#brons - cast

[pealeii]

Six Korean Cast Appreciation 💜

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER ONE ━━ Move-in Day

❀ ━ pairing: paige bueckers x oc (jo jacobson)

❀ ━ word count: 5.8K

❀ ━ warnings: none except this shits so dialogue heavy it’s almost sickening

❀ ━ links: my masterlist, nobody gets me masterlist

❀ ━ author’s note: hiii so this is my new series!!! i lowkey hate this chapter SO much i’ve rewritten it three times and can’t get it the way i want so i’m just publishing it as is. this fic is going to be much more light-hearted than take me to church (lol), big big slow burn and if i get it right almost reminiscent of a romcom. i hope you guys enjoy this chapter more than i did LOL

THE EARLY afternoon light filters in through the half-drawn blinds, casting long shadows across the apartment floor. Paige stands in the middle of her new room, surveying the chaos of boxes, bags, and half-assembled furniture. It’s good to be back on campus—she’s been away for a few weeks, visiting her dad and Drew in Maryland and then her mom and siblings in Montana, and while she’s glad to have seen them, she can’t help but feel a pull toward the UConn, being with the team, practicing, basketball, all the above.

Her mind buzzes with excitement, anticipation for the new year, the new faces, the new challenges. She’s already mentally putting together how the season might go, how she’ll keep pushing herself harder, how she’s ready to lead her team. It feels like the first time in a long time that she’s been able to focus purely on basketball without the stress or rehab and recovery and she’s glad.

Her roommate, Josephine Jacobson—Jo—isn’t around yet. She’s a freshman, a sweet girl, the type that bleeds sunshine but can pull the demon out of herself on the court. Paige knows all about her, of course—how she’s a natural point guard, the number one recruit in the nation, will probably be the future of their team—but they’ve never really been close. Haven’t had the chance to be. But, as always, Paige feels optimistic about it. God put them together for a reason. After all, her past roommates have become some of her best friends. Nika and Evina her freshman year, and then Amari and Dorka last year. It just works out that way. Basketball bonds people, and she’s sure this year will be no different.

She moves one of the boxes to the side, careful not to knock over a stack of them as she does so. She arranges a pile of sweatshirts and sweatpants, making sure everything’s folded as neatly as she’s able to before moving on to the next task. This year, she’s determined to keep things organized, less chaos, more control. She wants her space to actually look nice, not like she’s some sort of slob. (She’s not sure how long this goal is going to last for).

Aubrey strolls in, another one of Paige’s boxes tucked into her hip. She’s already unpacked herself, having got here yesterday, and she’d offered to help Paige when she got here a little under an hour ago. Aubrey opens the box, seeing the bright purple comforter inside.

“Okay, P! I see color!” she says, a teasing grin on her face. “You finally given up on making your room look like a prison cell?”

Paige laughs, rolling her eyes. “Aye, my standards have rose this year. No more living in a box.” She gestures to the several LeBron and basketball posters filtering the floor in the corner of the room. “Decorating it nice this time, trust.”

Aubrey shakes her head, clearly amused. “Yep, I’m sure Bron’s face being the first thing you see when you walk in is gon’ make it real cozy.”

Paige just laughs again, stepping back to decide which corner of the room she wants her bed in. She tilts her head, looking back before deciding it’ll go best directly across the mirror-closet. For certain reasons she’d probably rather keep to herself for now.

“Who’re you rooming with again?” Paige asks, looking over at Aubrey, who’s taken the liberty of placing the millions of shoes Paige owns on the top shelf of her closet.

“Carol and Lili. It’s gonna be chill, for sure.” She shrugs before her eyes gleam a little, smirking at Paige. “Azzi’s gonna have it rough this year, though. Putting her with two freshmen is crazy work. They hyper as hell.”

Paige shrugs a little as she moves over to her bed. “Eh, Ines seems more quiet if anything. Ice, though, yeah. Azzi’ll be fine, though. She deals with me enough and I’m prolly just as bad.”

“Worse,” Aubrey corrects.

Paige rolls her eyes, opting to ask, “Can you help?” instead of responding to the jab. Aubrey nods, moving from her spot by the closet to stand next to Paige before the bed. “Where d’you want it?” she asks.

“Just in that corner,” the blonde responds, nodding her head to the other side.

Aubrey nods again and strides to the opposite side of the bed, the one near the wall. It’s a queen, so it’s too wide for just the two of them to carry, meaning they’ll have to just push it. Paige sighs before starting, her muscles straining slightly as she shoves her bed across the floor, the bed frame scraping noisily against it. Aubrey’s beside her, grabbing the other side with a grunt, their movements in sync but still awkward, both of them trying to be careful not to knock anything over or break anything.

“So,” Aubrey starts, breaking the rhythm of their movements, “what d’you think about yours? Jo. She’s a freshie, too.”

Paige doesn’t pause, her hands gripping the bed frame as she shifts it a few more inches. She’s thinking more about the layout of the room—where she wants things. After a few seconds, she shrugs, glancing over at Aubrey. “She’s cute,” Paige says simply, her voice light as she looks for the right angle to fit the bed by the wall.

Aubrey pauses. For a second, Paige doesn’t even notice—she’s too busy pushing the bed into position. But then Aubrey let’s our a low, exaggerated breath and Paige glances up, noticing the way she’s studying her with a raised brow.

Aubrey gives her a behave type of look. “You cannot fuck Jo Jacobson,” she tells Paige, slow and deliberate, like she’s really trying to get the blonde to understand this.

Paige’s head whips toward her, eyes wide, her grip slipping off the bed frame. “What?” she asks, voice higher than she intends. She looks at Aubrey, still not quite sure if she’s hearing her right. “What are you even talking ‘bout?”

Aubrey just stares, the expression on her face unwavering. “I’m saying, you can’t fuck her. Like, seriously, don’t even think about it.”

The words hit Paige like a slap, but it’s not the harshness of them that makes her heart skip. It’s the fact that Aubrey said it with such absolute certainty, like it was a rule she needed to lay down for Paige.

The blonde furrows her brows as she process what Aubrey just said. She opens her mouth, trying to make sense of it. “Aubrey, what? I—” she stops herself, trying to piece things together. The more she thinks about it, the weirder it all sounds. She barely knows Jo—hell, Jo hasn’t even gotten to campus yet. She’s literally just a sweet freshman, one of the new players. Of course, Paige isn’t thinking about anything remotely romantic with her. Not at all.

She can’t even fathom it.

“Aubrey, bro, are you seriously suggesting that I… What?” Paige repeats, still not believing it. “I—I don’t—no, no, that’s not even a thing.”

Aubrey exclaims, “You just said she was cute! You can’t be doing that, P.”

Paige shakes her head, laughing a little in disbelief, clearly thrown by the whole insinuation. “Yeah, like in a I-wanna-pinch-your-cheeks kind of cute,” she says, mimicking the motion with her hands. “Like she’s sweet, not like she’s fine and I wanna hit that. She’s a freshman and our teammate, bro—you know I ain’t do stuff like that.”

Aubrey, unfazed by Paige’s defense, just raises an eyebrow. “Ion know, your hook-ups have been kinda wild lately.”

Paige rolls her eyes as she reaches down, grabbing the corner of the bed and pulling it another inch into place. “That’s different,” Paige tells her. “That was like, months ago—”

“Three weeks ago,” Aubrey interrupts, but Paige doesn’t bother listening.

“—and that wasn’t even serious. I wouldn’t do that shit with Jo. She’s pretty, but—”

She cuts herself off, realizing how that could sound, and immediately backpedals.

“But she’s a teammate,” Paige finishes, nodding as though it’s the most logical conclusion. Which, it is. “I don’t see her like that. She’ll prolly be like a little sister or something. Seriously, you ain’t gotta worry about this.”

Aubrey doesn’t seem entirely convinced but just shrugs it off with a nonchalant wave. “Alright, alright. Just makin’ sure. Senior duties and all,” she says.

Paige rolls her eyes, nudging the girl in her ribs. Aubrey hisses, and nudges the blonde back. And then they return their attention to the bed, giving it one final tug, making sure it’s aligned just right.

Paige pulls away, taking a look with her hands on her hips. The room looks good, feels right. A good place to spend her next year. And even though she doesn’t know what that year might bring—how the team will play, how her body will hold up—it feels like everything’s in its place for now.

(Minus Aubrey’s odd assumptions, that is).

JO’S STOMACH flutters with a mixture of excitement and nerves as the car pulls into the parking lot right in front of what will be her new home. Her gaze drifts over the apartment building, taking in the sprawling complex that will be hers for the next year. The sun is high, casting everything in a golden glow, and it’s one of those perfect, early summer days—the kind that makes everything feel new and fresh. This is it. She’s finally here. UConn; her dream since forever. The place she’s watched on TV for as long as she can remember, watching them win championship after championship. And, now, it’s real. She’s actually here.

Her dad pulls into a parking space, the car humming to a stop, and Jo takes a deep breath, fighting back the lump in her throat. It’s not that she’s scared; it’s more that it feels huge. This is the beginning of everything. Her heart races a little, her palms tingling. She’s excited—so excited—but it’s all a little daunting, too. The whole what if she doesn’t belong here, what if it’s not everything she’s ever dreamed of echoes in her head, but she knows better than to entertain those thoughts. Despite this always being her dream school, she made sure to explore her options before committing. And, after everything, Storrs was somehow her favorite.

But it’s still a little hard to ignore the tiny voice in the back of her mind that whispers doubts. At least she has familiar faces here—her teammates. She can’t imagine coming here alone, without knowing anyone at all, without that built-in support system. It helps, knowing that the people she’s going to spend the next chapter of her life with are familiar faces, not strangers. Still, there’s a big difference between practice and living together, between seeing someone for a few hours on a court and sharing an apartment with them. The whole thing feels a little surreal.

“Ready, sunshine?” her dad asks, giving her a side-eye as he shuts off the car. His voice has a teasing, comforting quality that always makes Jo feel like everything will be okay.

Jo doesn’t answer right away, just smiles nervously, nodding as she unbuckles her seatbelt. “I think so,” she says, trying to sound more confident than she feels.

Her mom grins at her from the front seat, practically glowing with excitement. “Come on, it’s gonna be so great, Joey.”

Jo laughs softly, the sound easy and light, nodding. They get out of the car, opening the trunk, and Jo begins unloading her bags and boxes—the millions of them. She didn’t mean to over-pack, but somehow, her whole life had been crammed into suitcases and boxes. Her parents each grab as much as they can hold, but even the three of them can’t carry everything, so they head toward the building, the weight of it all already starting to feel like more than it should.

The hallway inside the building smells like fresh paint and clean floors, and it has that crisp, cool air of a place that’s seen its fair share of new beginnings. Jo’s parents chat with each other, but Jo can hardly keep her thoughts straight. She’s here, really here, and she’s not sure if it’s excitement or fear that’s making her heart beat so fast.

They trudge up the stairs together—her dad leading, her mom picking up the rear, and Jo in the middle. The stairs creak beneath their weight, and every step takes them closer to her new life. She tries not to think about how much this move means, how much it’s going to mean—because that’s just the kind of thing that could make her go a little crazy.

When they finally reach her apartment, Jo’s the first to pull out her keys. She opens the door, excitement bubbling in her chest, but as she’s about to step inside, someone is trying to step out, bumping right into her.

Paige.

She steadies Jo with a hand on her shoulder, looking down at the girl—she’s only got a couple inches on Jo, but it certainly feels like a lot more right now—saying, with a little bit of surprise in her tone, “Oh, hi, Jo.”

Jo stills for just a split second. She’s met Paige several times—throughout her recruitment, last year when she and Ice and Yanna were here for First Night, all the games she attended in between—but, for Jo, it’s still a little like, wow, okay, hi Paige Bueckers. She’s admired Paige and her game for years, so yeah, maybe she’s a little starstruck every time she sees her. But she realizes just as quickly how that needs to change immediately because they are going to be living together for the next year. She’s here for a reason, not to be starry-eyed over the blonde girl in front of her.

“Hey!” Jo manages, flashing Paige a bright, warm smile that’s always her go-to move, even if her heart is racing.

Paige’s gaze shifts from Jo’s face to her parents, then down to the ridiculous amount of luggage they’re all holding, and her eyebrows raise. “Wow,” she says with a laugh. “Over-packer?”

Jo laughs, too, feeling some of that initial awkwardness beginning to seep away. “This isn’t even all of it,” she admits, shifting her weight a little. She realizes how she’s being a little rude, not introducing her mom and dad, so she gestures to them and says, “These are my parents. And this is Paige.”

Jo’s parents exchange polite hellos, nodding toward the blonde, who’s already stepping aside to let them through.

“Lemme help you with that,” Paige offers before anyone can protest, already lifting a couple of boxes from Jo’s mom. It’s clear she’s used to helping out—comfortable in this setting—and Jo appreciates it, even though she knows she can manage. But Paige’s energy is infectious, and she can’t help but feel comforted by the ease in the older girl’s presence.

“Thanks,” Jo says gratefully. “It’s a lot of stuff.”

Paige shrugs, a casual smile on her face. “It’s all good. We’ve got time. I���ll help you get settled.”

The four of them make their way into the apartment, and Jo’s parents immediately make a beeline for Jo’s bedroom to drop off the bags they’re carrying. They work together, setting everything down in a neat pile before Jo’s mom turns to her with a warm smile.

“We’ll go get the rest of it,” she tells her daughter. “You start unpacking, ‘kay?”

Jo nods, trying to hide the way her heart sinks a little at the idea of being left alone for the first time in a new place.

But then she realizes, she’s not alone. Paige is still here.

Jo takes a deep breath, then steps further into her room, already eyeing the empty bed and the space where she’s going to have to build her new life. The door clicks shut behind her, and suddenly it’s just the two of them. For a moment, neither says anything. It’s a little awkward, that first silence between two almost-strangers who are about to be more than that—roommates, teammates, friends.

Paige rubs the back of her neck, probably feeling it too. Clearly, though, she doesn’t like that, and Jo watches as she lazily plops down into the standard-issue desk chair, making herself at ease. She grins at Jo, saying with a casualness that somehow manages to be both disarming and mildly intimidating, “So, how was the drive?”

Jo shrugs a little, leaning slightly on the bed frame. “Not bad,” she replies. “Boston’s only like an hour and a half away.”

“Oh, yeah,” Paige says, nodding her head in almost mock realization. “New England girl. I knew that.”

Jo grins, bemused and already starting to feel more comfortable. “Born and raised.”

“Nice,” Paige says, dragging the word out a little. “You got the accent and everything?”

“I don’t know, do I sound like I do?” Jo asks, laughing softly.

Paige’s grin widens as she spins in the chair. “Hmm,” she hums, eyes narrowing teasingly. “I dunno, talk more.”

Jo laughs again, looking at the blonde with a mix of amusement and disbelief. “What do you want me to say?” she questions, tilting her head as another small giggle bubbles in her chest.

“Like, something with an R. That’s what a Boston accent is, right?” Paige shrugs, gummy smile on full display and eyebrows raised. She leans forward a little, before saying with a terrible attempt at a Boston accent, “Park the car in Harvard yard?”

Jo can’t help but outright snort at that, stomach constricting as she laughs at the blonde. Paige laughs, too, scrunching her nose as she does so. “Oh my God, you did not,” Jo manages between giggles, eyes crinkling a little.

“I did,” Paige replies. “Now you gotta! Lemme hear the accent!”

“You’re not real,” Jo mumbles, shaking her head, in half disbelief at the pure unseriousness of Paige Bueckers. But it’s nice—that she’s already making her feel so comfortable. Jo sighs, before saying indignantly, “Park the car in Harvard yard.”

Paige claps her hands together, laughing loudly as she exclaims, “You definitely have one!”

Jo’s jaw drops a little, defending, “No one has ever told me I have an accent, you definitely just need your ears checked.”

Paige grins, shaking her head, saying, “Nah, it’s there. I heard it.”

“Fine,” Jo relents, rolling her eyes. “You should hear my dad, though. It’s really thick sometimes.”

Paige leans forward on the chair again, eyes lighting up with a bit of interest. “I gotta hear it. Maybe I’ll ask him to say it, too.”

Jo just shakes her head, rolling her eyes again as the corners of her mouth twitch upward despite herself. There’s something about Paige that makes it hard to stay guarded—not that Jo was trying to. She’s just… larger than life in a way that could definitely be overwhelming, but there’s such an ease to her too, a confidence that feels oddly inviting.

“Are you finished unpacking?” Jo asks, breaking the newfound silence as she gestures vaguely toward the blonde’s room behind the door.

Paige shrugs, her expression somewhere between proud and sheepish. “Mostly. Aubrey and I did it this morning, but I definitely cut corners. If you open any of the drawers in there, so messy. I got lazy.”

Jo raises an eyebrow, her lips quirking up. “Efficient, though.”

“Exactly,” Paige says, pointing at her. “You get it.”

And then the easy rhythm between them is interrupted by the loud, unmistakable growl of Jo’s stomach. Her cheeks flush immediately as Paige’s grin spreads wider, her laugh concerns again breaking the quiet of the room.

“Hungry?” she teases, spinning the chair one last time before stopping to slouch backward against it.

“Ugh, yeah,” Jo groans, pressing a hand to her stomach. “I haven’t eaten since, like, breakfast.”

“Same,” Paige says with a nod, pushing herself up out of the chair and stretching her arms over her head. “I think we’re all gonna get pizza tonight, though. Go up to Nika’s and hang out. She’s with Yanna and Amari. You’re coming, of course.”

Jo grins, raising her eyebrows as she says teasingly, “I don’t have a choice?” It’s just a joke, because, obviously, even if she did, she’d go either way.

Paige gives her a little look, narrowing her eyes jokingly as she leans forward, flicking Jo on the arm and telling her, “Absolutely not.”

Before she can respond, there’s a knock at the doorframe and Jo’s mom’s voice floats in cheerfully, “Look who we found!”

Jo turns to see her parents standing in the doorway, her dad carrying a suitcase while her mom holds the door open for someone else—none other than Ice Brady. Jo knows Ice well, the two of them having gotten easily close during different USA basketball gigs and through their shared commitment process. Ice grins broadly, a laundry basket balanced on her hip—clearly, she’s been put to work.

“Aye, hey guys!” she calls out, stepping into the room with an energy that matches her nickname—cool, but in a warm and easy way.

“Of course they roped you into helping,” Jo says, laughing as Ice sets the basket down with a playful groan.

“I was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” she says, shaking her head playfully as she glances back at Jo’s parents who just smile at her, shrugging.

Ice then leans in, giving Jo a little side-hug as she says, “Hey, JoJo.”

Jo rolls her eyes, swatting at Ice’s arm. “I told you, no calling me that.” While Paige, who’s now leant casually against the desk, exclaims, “Oh my God, like JoJo Siwa.”

Ice laughs saying, “Exactly,” as she leans over and daps Paige up with a grin. Jo gives both of them little glares, saying, “No, I am not JoJo Siwa! Jo or Josephine, nothing else.”

Ice shrugs, sniggering, “JoJo.”

“Isuneh!”

THE AIR in the apartment is warm and filled with the hum of overlapping voices. Paige sits tucked into the corner of the small couch, her legs crossed under her, a half-eaten slice of pizza balanced on a paper plate in her lap. To her right, Dorka’s mid-sentence, recounting some story from her summer that has Aaliyah laughing hard enough to cover her mouth with her hand.

It’s the first real team hangout of the year, the kind where the bonds for the season start to form, where they begin to really get to know the new guys. The absence of last year’s seniors—Christyn, Olivia, E—feels strange but not exactly heavy; just like a space waiting to be filed rather than a void that can’t be. Paige glances across the room at Lou, Azzi, and Ines, sprawled across the other couch. Azzi leans back, her ankles crossed on the coffee table, her focus more on her phone than the conversation, but Paige knows her well enough to see that she’s listening. Lou’s animated hands keep catching Paige’s eye as she gestures through some story, and Ines is nodding along, face lighting up with her adorable freshman-ness.

Paige’s gaze then drifts downward, landing on the scene on the floor. Jo is half-laying across Caroline’s legs, her dark hair spilling against Caroline’s leggings. Caroline, ever the mother, absently runs her fingers through Jo’s hair while chatting with Aubrey. Faintly, Paige is aware that Jo and Caroline know each other well, have been friends for years. Both grew up in Massachusetts, not far from one another, same AAU team if Paige’s memory serves her correctly.

The new guys—the freshmen and Lou—all already fit in well. Lou and Ines have already created easy bonds with each other and Azzi. Ice is playfully bickering with Nika and Amari at the table, the three of them leaning into a conversation that seems half-joking, half-serious. Jo’s a little quiet, looking more thoughtful than anything, but Paige can tell she’s completely comfortable as she lays on Caroline and listens to her steady stream of chatter. Yanna, too, though she’s also on the quiet side, pitches into Aubrey and Caroline’s conversation every now and then.

Paige shifts her focus back to her plate, taking another bite of pizza. It’s bland and overly chewy, a far cry from what she’s been craving. She doesn’t say anything, though. The conversation flows around her, easy and light, punctuated by bursts of laughter and the occasional clink of someone setting a cup down too hard.

“God, this tastes like cardboard,” Ice announces suddenly, holding up her slice with a look of exaggerated disgust.

“Yeah, it’s… not good,” Jo says with a little grimace, Paige watching as she glances at her half-eaten slice that she hasn’t touched in probably ten minutes.

“Tastes like cafeteria food,” Yanna says from her spot on the bar stool, though Paige can see that she’s eaten all of hers.

“Worse than cafeteria food,” Azzi chimes in, eyes still on her phone, tone a little dry. “School pizza pretends to have flavor.”

Nika nods at everyone’s words, looking like the pizza situation might as well be a tragedy. Which, to Nika, Paige knows it kind of is. “Yeah, bro, we gotta go to New Haven if we want any god pizza. It’s my biggest disappointment in life.”

Paige grins at that, leaning back into the couch as she watches the exchange. It’s funny to her how every year, without fail, the new players get hit with the reality of Storrs’ subpar pizza options. “Y’all gotta get used to it.”

Ice groans, and Paige laughs a little as she contradicts herself and takes another big bite of pizza.

Jo glances up from her spot on the floor, dark brows arching in amusement. “Nika, New Haven’s an hour away.”

“Worth it,” Nika insists, hands slicing through the air for emphasis. “Best pizza in the country, hands down.”

“Eh, debatable,” Ice fires back, smirking.

“Debatable?” Nika repeats, looking scandalized. “’Kay, no, see, now you gotta go. I’m takin’ you to Pepe’s or Sally’s, and then we’ll talk.”

The debate spirals from there, the room splitting into factions—those who have been to New Haven and swear by it, and the skeptics like Ice who clearly need convincing. Paige inputs a couple times, but other than that continues eating her cardboard pizza, taking the time to listen, which she doesn’t usually do. The topic quickly starts to feel like it’s been beaten to death, but that doesn’t stop Nika from gesturing wildly as Ice shakes her head, arms crossed like she’s already over it.

Paige’s gaze shifts from them to Jo and Caroline, who are directly in front of her across the room. There’s a mischievous tilt to Jo’s smile as she watches Ice and Nika, and Paige feels a pang of curiosity. Jo looks like she’s got something to say, and sure enough, a beat later, she interrupts with a voice that carries just enough weight to make everyone turn her way.

“Ice,” Jo interrupts, her tone deceptively innocent, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Let’s quit talking about pizza and talk about your new little goal you’ve got.”

The room collectively seems to perk up at that. Paige sits up straighter, interest piqued. She glances at Ice, who immediately shoots Jo a warning glare.

“No,” the Brady girl says firmly, voice clipped.

The refusal only makes Paige more curious. She leans forward, elbows on her knees now, eyes wide with a playful insistence. “Oh, no, you gotta tell us now,” she exclaims, grin wide.

Aaliyah, beside her, says, “Yeah, Ice, don’t leave us hangin’!”

Ice shakes her head, clearly unwilling to budge. But Jo, apparently unfazed by the glare the Brady girl has set on her hard, sits up slightly, her smile turning almost devilish. “Ice said she wants a sneaky link by next week. It’s her number one goal now that she’s on campus!”

The reaction is instant and explosive. Loud laughs and little screams of exclamation erupt from everyone as Ice’s face twists into a mix of betrayal and outrage. Paige finds herself laughing so hard she has to lean back into the couch, her head tipping toward the ceiling as her shoulders shake.

“Jo!” Ice exclaims, her voice a biz of exasperation and disbelief. She grabs a napkin from the table and chucks it at Jo, who barely flinches.

Caroline picks the napkin up and tosses it toward the trash can, her tone scolding and motherly as she says, “Ice.”

But Ice doesn’t listen. Instead, she points an accusing finger at Jo, her eyes narrowing. “JoJo, you’re such a traitor.”

Jo’s grin only widens. She shrugs, looking utterly unbothered as she settled back into Caroline’s lap. “Hey, we’re all willing to help you find a fuck buddy, don’t you worry.”

Ice glares even harder and it makes Jo laugh again. Paige can’t help but let her gaze linger on the brunette, her chest still tight from laughing. Jo’s giggles are unrestrained, her cheeks flushed with amusement. There’s something about it that Paige finds infectious. The way Jo lights up when she’s laughing feels almost magnetic, like she’s carrying her own little pocket of sunshine.

“Oh, Ice,” Nika says, pulling Paige’s gaze away from Jo. There’s a familiar glint in Nika’s eyes. “If you need help finding a sneaky link, Paige is the expert. She’s got you covered.”

Paige’s mouth falls open, eyes widening as she stares at her twin. “Yo!” she exclaims, sitting up.

Amari snorts from her spot at the table, her expression one of barely-constrained amusement. “P, be for real.”

Azzi, who hasn’t looked up from her phone in a while, adds in without missing a beat, “Paige is a man-whore, if that wasn’t obvious.”

Paige gasps dramatically, her hand clutching her chest like she’s been mortally wounded. “I ain’t even a man!”

“You act like one,” Caroline chimes in, voice calm but teasing.

Paige just stares at all of them, her mouth slightly open, as if she can’t believe what she’s hearing. “Man, what’s all this gangin’ up on me for?” she asks, her tone half-offended, half-playful.

Eventually, the room’s energy slowly shifts as the teasing dies down. Laughter fades into soft chuckles, and everyone starts settling back into their spots. Paige stretches her legs out again, her socked feet brushing lightly against the coffee table. The buzz of the conversation has left her grinning, though her cheeks still feel warm from all the ribbing. She’s content to let the chatter flow around her now, her focus drifting as she scrolls on Instagram until Aaliyah leans forward from the couch and throws a spark back into the room.

“Jo,” Aaliyah says, tone playful, “since you were so quick to expose Ice, you got anyone you’ve been wanting?”

Paige perks up at that, curious despite herself. Sue her if she’s nosy. She glances toward Jo, who’s still sprawled on the floor, her head now resting against Caroline’s knee. Jo’s expression doesn’t change much, maybe softens slightly.

“No, she doesn’t,” Ice says quickly, annoyance lacing her voice. Paige can tell it’s because she can’t humiliate Jo like she’s just exposed her. Ice gestures at the Jacobson girl with her pizza crust like she’s making a point. “Girl’s already met her damn husband.”

Paige raises an eyebrow, intrigued by the certainty in Ice’s tone. She watches Jo carefully now, noting the way a faint smile tugs at her lips. It’s not the cheeky grin she’s been wearing most of the night; it’s something softer, quieter, like the thought of this so-called future husband of hers is enough to soothe her, ground her.

Amari leans forward from her chair and tilts her head. “Aw, Jo, you have a boyfriend?”

Jo nods, that same small, telling smile still on her face. Paige notices how her cheeks turn just the slightest shade pinker. It’s… different. Softer, almost vulnerable.

Damn, Paige thinks, watching her. She must really love that boy.

The room seems to erupt again, this time not in laughter but in a cascade of questions and exclamations. Nika asks, “How long you been dating?”

Jo shifts a little, clearly embarrassed, mumbling, “Eighth grade.”

Paige feels her eyes widen, almost so wide they might as well pop out of their sockets. It’s impressive—a middle school relationship lasting that long.

But then Caroline adds with a knowing smile, “Yeah, but you’ve loved him since you were, like, four, Jo.”

Jo’s face flushes deeper, and she buries it briefly against Caroline’s leg before mumbling, “Yeah, we’ve been next-door neighbors our whole lives.”

The whole team seems to aw at that, exclaiming how cute. “Jo, that’s like a movie!” Azzi says softly, a hopeless romantic. Paige has to admit they’re not wrong. It’s that perfect, golden sort of story people write novels about—the girl-next-door falling for the boy-next-door.

Except Paige doesn’t really think it’s all that cute. Maybe it’s because she’s too gay, but she doesn’t get how anyone could be into a boy, especially for that long. It just seems… exhausting. Still, she keeps her mouth shut, letting the conversation roll on without her. It’s uncharacteristic.

Ines, eyes wide with interest asks, “What’s his name?”

“Asher,” Jo answers, voice soft but steady.

Dorka, next to Paige, claps her hands together. “Let me see a picture, Jo!”

Jo hesitates for a second, her blush depending, but then she sits up and pulls her phone out of her pocket. She unlocks it, turning the screen toward Dorka—and toward Paige, who can’t help but sneak a glance.

Paige hates to admit it, but it’s… cute. The way Jo’s looking at him in the picture—it’s soft, unguarded, like the rest of the world could fall away, and she wouldn’t care as long as he’s there.

Paige doesn’t know if she’s jealous that Jo has a love like that and she doesn’t, or if she’s disgusted by the whole prospect.

Dorka coos, smile wide. “So cute!”

Jo laughs, a little bashful now, and Aubrey pipes up from her spot on the barstool by the kitchen. “Where’s he going to school?”

“Penn State,” Jo answers.

Paige catches the the slight shift in Jo’s posture, the way she tenses a little, the way her smile falters ever so slightly. That kind of distance is hard, especially for a young relationship.

Paige leans back into the couch, her gaze still lingering on Jo as the conversation continues. She wonders if they’ll last. Not in a mean way—Jo clearly loves the guy—but Paige has seen it happen before. Everyone has. High school sweethearts falling apart once they hit college, the distance and the changes proving too much.

Still, something about the way Jo smiled at him in that photo makes Paige hesitate. Maybe they’ll be one of the lucky ones.

Or maybe it’s not her place for even thinking about it at all.

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + thirty six

authors note: see at end of chapter.

cw/tw: angst, graphic violence, gore, torture, attempted and real violence against women and children, scenes depicting sexual assault.

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

***gif credit goes to @romanreigns ***

cast+ masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 16k 

The minute the call with Domingo Lopez ends, the shock of the unexpected alliance and support weighs only for a couple minutes among the group. And, then it's gone. They can process that shit later. Roman can process that shit later. Right now, it’s time to plan and strategize.

And, they do, Steve eventually coming back in the room, only to remind them that whatever weapons, whatever guns, whatever they need from his massive collection, is theirs for the taking.

It’s deeply appreciated.

And, the assistance doesn’t stop there. 

Because as the group begins to gather around the table, the front door is opened, an almost deep yet feminine voice sounding from the foyer. “Dad, why the fuck are there—”

Roman takes in the sight of a young woman, tall in stature, defined muscles evident in the all black, gothic outfit she wears. Short black hair frames a pale face that’s covered in dark makeup. She looks skeptical of the group until she sets her gaze on Dwayne, of all people, smiling almost immediately. “Uncle Dwayne.”

At that, Roman scowls. 

Uncle Dwayne?

What the fuck?

Dwayne chuckles, stepping forward offering a hug to the witch looking kid. “Rhea.” He pulls back, shooting her a wink. “You brutalize anyone lately?”

“Among other things,” she smirks, gesturing to the group. “What’s all this?”

Putting two and two together, Roman would gather that this Rhea woman is Steve’s daughter. How, given she has a thick ass British or Australian sounding accent, and Steve is a country boy from Texas through and through, Roman hasn’t the slightest clue. 

Nor does he really care enough to try to figure shit out. 

“I’m in.”

Rhea’s statement directs his attention back to the scene at hand. He looks over at Dwayne. “What?”

“Women and children have been taken, right?” She asks, looking directly at Roman, not an ounce of fear or trepidation in sight. If not for the nature of his current situation, Roman might be a little impressed. Elvira's long lost daughter has got some balls. Rhea scowls. “Men already piss me the fuck off, but men who go after the innocent deserve a special place in hell.”

She looks between Dwayne and Roman, vowing, “you need an extra killer. You got one.”

Roman’s reluctance is clearly evident, as his older cousin gives him a slow, knowing nod. She’s good.

Once more, Roman finds himself having to lower his defenses, accepting and allowing help from the least expected sources.

“Fine.”

Not even twenty minutes later, the group, including Rhea, sans Austin, hover around the dining room table, planning and strategizing. “Alright,” Dwayne starts, iPad in hand showing a dated map and layout of the plant. The same layout that’s on the screen of both laptops on the table, providing all with a view. “Looks like there’s a couple entrances in and out of this place, but this one right here…..” He points to the largest space that provides a direct line to the biggest building on the property. “That’ll be our best way in. The core group.”

Santos is in deep thought, offering a valid question. “You don’t think we should utilize the the other entrances.” All eyes settle on him as he clarifies, “feels too obvious to use the front door. We’d be stepping right into heavy fire.”

“No, we won’t,” Roman supplies. It’s the first thing he’s said in a good ten minutes. “He wouldn’t risk killing me on the spot. He wants to make a spectacle of it.”

No one needs to ask who the he is. 

“I hate to say it, but he’s right,” Cody speaks up, and Roman makes zero effort in hiding his displeasure. “Bron and Solo want an audience. Killing us the minute we step foot there would deprive them of that.”

Dwayne nods, continuing to strategize. “Main team uses the front door. Several other teams will use the alternative entrances, work their way in to take out as many men as possible.”

“We’ll need snipers,” Matteo speaks up, arms crossed as he too carefully studies the map. “Solo might be stupid to underestimate Roman, but he’s not an idiot. He’ll have snipers in place.”

Roman says nothing, silently agreeing. 

The Bloodline has some of the best goddamn snipers around. If Solo was too dumb to think they’d be useful, he can almost bet Rikishi talked him into it.

“That won’t be a problem,” Santos speaks up, gesturing to the two men who arrived with him. “Angel and Berto are some of the best long range shooters you could ever come across. They don’t miss.”

“Neither do I,” Afia chimes, a knowing, telling, almost graceful smirk on her face as she looks over at Rhea. “How’s your aim?”

Rhea smirks, answering without a beat and with all the confidence that seems to match. She just looks like a person who can back up anything and everything she says. “You give me a target. I’ll get you a hit.”

Afia nods, saying nothing but believing it fully. The young woman reminds her a lot of herself in her youth. Ravenous and blood thirsty.

She’ll be a great asset for the mission.

“Looks like we got that sorted,” Matteo chuckles darkly, though not surprised at his wife’s proposal. As much as Afia enjoys motherhood and her retirement, he can’t imagine her spending as much time as she did out in the field and not missing some aspect of it. Not to mention, this is personal. He knows how close his wife has gotten to Solana, and she would be torn up if something happened to her.

But, even more, she’s livid that Solana was taken in the first place and wants her pound of flesh.

A shared sentiment.

“We still need to figure out our teams,” Dwayne announces, keeping everyone on track. A necessity, as the reinforcements should be arriving in a little under an hour. “Obviously, myself, Roman, and Matteo—Afia, you and Rhea can join us when you’re done lighting up the bastards from the sky.”

The two women share a smirk and fist bump, the younger of the two acknowledging, “with pleasure.”

Dwayne shakes his head, keeping his comment to himself as he continues to plan, “Rhodes, you’ll also be with us—”

“The fuck he will.” Roman shuts that shit down immediately, all sets of eyes on him as she practically growls, “he’s not fucking coming with us.”

“The fuck I’m not,” Cody is quick with the rebuttal, not allowing anyone else time to intercede and defuse. “Bron has my wife and daughter!”

Words that go in one ear and out the other, the true Tribal Chief acridly dismissing, “you think I give a fuck about that?” There’s a level of complete disinterest Roman has in anything regarding Rhodes and the Rhodes family right about now. His one and only concern is Solana, and he reiterates as such. “They could fucking die for all I care. This is about rescuing my wife. Not your family.”

And without skipping or missing a beat, Cody’s dark, chilly retort is delivered without any hesitation. “The same way you rescued your family that night?”

It’s nothing short of a miracle the way Dwayne is able to intercede, blocking Roman from flipping over the table and using Rhodes as target practice for what he plans to do to Solo.

Matteo extends an arm across Cody, who stupidly seems unaffected or bothered by Roman’s full intent to murder him right here on the spot.

“That’s enough,” Afia’s voice cuts through the chaos of Roman working to break free from his older cousin and wipe that smug smirk off Rhodes fucking face.

Or just blow his head off altogether.

Either option is equally acceptable.

She says something in a language he can’t understand but can guess by the scowl on her face is nothing nice. “You’re acting like children. Now, there’s clearly a story here, but I don’t give two fucks about that story. Do you want to know why?” She points to the table where the laptops remain open. “Because three innocent lives are at stake. Your families have been taken. The women you love.” Her gaze softens a bit. “Children.”

It’s that last single word that has Roman’s full attention. It could easily be a reference to Cody’s daughter. A general statement, but Roman knows better.

Afia knows Solana is pregnant.

Knows that Roman stands to not only lose his wife but his unborn daughters.

It’s a brutal but necessary reminder of what’s at stake and the importance of the situation.

“She’s right,” Matteo speaks up, taking over for his wife, lowering his arm at the same time Dwayne releases Roman. “You two can hate each other until kingdom come after all of this is over, but until then, shut the fuck up, swallow your fucking pride, and let’s get back to business.”

There’s something about Matteo’s tone, final and almost parental, that reels in the divergence from the main goal at hand.

He’s right. Roman knows as such.

He will forever hold a special, unhealthy amount of hatred in his heart toward the man across from him, but that’s not important right now.

He can’t allow that unforgiving, unrelenting, pulsing hatred to distract him from what’s most important. And, what’s most important is bringing Solana back home, safe and sound. 

Alive.

Bringing her back alive.

Dwayne continues to spearhead in a sense, with occasional suggestions and ideas from the group, with Roman only chiming in when someone mentions Solo.

“He’s mine.”

A command that no one dares to defy. No one questions, and no one objects. Universal recognition that the only one who will spill Solo’s blood and be the one to cause him to take his final breath is the man most harmed in all of this.

Roman.

This is Roman’s kill to make.

A life for his to take.

In every brutal, gruesome way he can imagine.

Other than Roman’s one interjection, occasional head nods of agreement or acknowledgment, he’s silent and remains that way as he slips away while Steve offers the group their selection of whatever firearms and weapons they feel appropriate from his sizable armory. A separate building on the property.

But, Roman remains in the main house, finding his way outside as he sits on the steps and looks at his phone for the first time. 

A phone that’s been lit up with unaddressed notifications all day. Primarily from two people.

Jimmy and Naomi.

Calls, texts, voicemail messages. Several, multiple, outreach attempts, a brief perusing of some of the texts revealing intense and urgent concern. From the messages alone, it would appear that they have no idea what’s happened.

The betrayal that’s occurred.

A part of Roman believes it. A part of him can’t. He can’t because Roman knows how close that family is. They’ve always been close-knit. Primarily Rikishi and his sons. Thus, Roman can’t conceptualize how Jimmy could truly be in the dark, even Naomi. 

He wonders if it’s a ruse of sorts but can’t figure out why and for what reason. Solo knows Roman is coming. He wants Roman to come, so what reason would there be for him to have his brother play dumb, borderline harassing Roman with question after question about what’s just going on.

It’s confusing as shit, and while he hates to admit it, it bothers him.

It shouldn’t, but it does, and Roman knows that he needs answers. He needs answers to melt away the cloudy haze that sidetracks his vision. 

He has to know if the betrayal truly was full circle. If everyone he once thought he could trust is now forever stamped with the bleeding, red letters that spell out traitor.

Roman navigates to Jimmy’s contact, hitting dial without second thought.

Time is not on his side, and he needs to get this done. He needs to get it done now.

Two rings later and a flustered, panicked sounding Jimmy. “Roman?” 

The Tribal Chief hesitates, eventually offering a simple, “it’s me.”

Jimmy curses on the other end, immediately shouting for Naomi before returning his focus. “Man, I been trying to reach you all damn day. What the hell is going on?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, anxiously listing off all the things. “ I went to your office, and all they could tell me is you left this morning and ain’t nobody seen or heard from you since. We saw there was an attack at the library where Solana works, and we tried to go over there, but wasn’t nothing but bodies. Solana ain’t answering the phone, and Naomi is worried sick. I can’t get in contact with—”

“Did you know?”

Simple. Straight to the point. Necessary.

Jimmy pauses on the other end. “Know what?”

Roman runs his hands over his face, switching to speaker so he can rest it on the step next to him as he tries his best to compose himself. A difficult task, to say the least.

“It’s a coup,” he supplies. Roman isn’t exactly sure why he’s telling Jimmy from the start what’s occurred. What’s happening. In a more perfect world, he’d wait it out, see if his cousin would inadvertently reveal his own hand. But, this is far from a perfect world, and mentally, Roman is all over the damn place.

He doesn’t have the fortitude to navigate that shit right now.

He just wants to know.

He wants an answer.

“Rikishi, Solo, Jey, and what feels like the entire fucking Bloodline are trying to overthrow me. They’ve all turned on me and have kidnapped Solana in order to draw me out.” Roman leaves out the part where they’ve formed an alliance with the Nightmare Factory, wanting to keep some things to himself, to not reveal everything that he knows. “And, I need to know if you fucking knew about this shit. If you’ve betrayed me, too.”

Because that’s what this whole phone call is about. It’s not necessarily about scoping out information or alleviating concerns, it’s about finding out the truth, once and for all.

Jimmy scoffs, as if in disbelief. “What?” 

And then a more frantic voice, feminine and familiar. Naomi. “What do you mean they’ve kidnapped her?” Roman says nothing, providing no additional information as Naomi continues to pry for information. Maybe from genuine concern. Maybe from and for an entirely different reason.

Because, he hasn’t forgotten about the argument she’d had with Solana while on the girls trip. An argument that resulted in Solana asking her to leave.

And now, Solana has been kidnapped. 

“Oh my God, is she hurt? Why would they take her?” Naomi continues to shoot out question after question, her voice cracking. “We—we have to get her back!”

“We will,” Jimmy assures, clearly trying to console her on the other end. “Roman, where are you? What’s the pla—”

“Answer the question, Jimmy,” is Roman’s harsh, cold interruption. A reminder of his initial statement. “Did you know?”

“Wait a minute…” Jimmy trails off, voice shifting to something close to anger. “You think I had something to do with this?”

Roman doesn’t skip a beat with his reply. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“Roman…” Naomi sounds hurt almost. Not that he cares. Her feelings are of no concern to him. “You know us. You know Jimmy. How could you even think—”

“I don’t know anything anymore!” Roman snaps, the tight grip he had on his emotions for this conversation starting to loosen. “All I know is that my wife has been taken, my fucking family has betrayed me, and the people who were supposed to be on my side have turned on me!” He closes his eyes, head tilted back as he rolls his neck and regains his composure. “I’m only going to ask one more time….did you know?”

Roman isn’t quite sure what kind of answer he expected from his cousin. He just knows he wants an answer. Good or bad, it doesn’t matter at this point.

The truth is all that matters.

“I knew….I knew they were thinking it was time you stepped down.” Jimmy finally answers after a good minute of silence. “Mostly Solo and my pops. They thought you’d become too distracted and wanted to meet with the Elders about stripping you of the ula fala.” Roman closes his eyes, doing his best to not allow the blow of Jimmy’s answer to extract from him another blow-up. “They wanted me and Jey to come with them, to go along with them, but I said hell no. I said—”

“So, you knew.” Because, that’s all Roman is hearing right now. He’s hearing that Jimmy knew tensions were high enough to where his dad and brothers wanted to see Roman dethroned, and he said nothing.

“I ain’t know they were planning this shit!” Jimmy defends, clearly emotional and frustrated.

It’s going around.

“Roman, we would never do anything to hurt you or Solana—”

“You should have told me. You should have fucking said something.” Roman completely dismisses Naomi. This isn’t even about her. This is about Roman and the man he thought he could trust. 

The family he thought he could trust.

“Roman, I’m telling you the God’s honest truth. I had no idea they were planning to do this.” To be fair, Jimmy sounds as genuine as he probably looks right now, but if there’s anything this experience has taught Roman, it’s that it’s sometimes the people closest to you who can say exactly what they know you want to need and hear. 

All while stabbing you in the back.

Jimmy had continued talking, while Roman sort of tuned him out in a sense, only to latch onto one attention-grabbing sentence. “....I thought my pops let this go years ago….”

Now, Roman is the one pausing. “What?” Silence. “What are you talking about?”

A heavy sigh followed by a clearly reluctant answer. “When we was younger, my dad used to talk to us about how it would be an honor if one of his sons could be Tribal Chief. He thought…he thought we should have challenged you for the ula fala.”

Roman’s jaw clenches, his chest a tight cage for all things heavy and uncomfortable. 

The shit just gets worse minute by minute.

“Is that why Jey did?” Roman asks, though something tells him he already knows the answer. 

“Yes.” Fuck. “My dad put a lot of pressure on him, encouraged him that he could do it, but when he lost, I thought pops had moved on from that. I had no idea—”

Whatever Jimmy planned to say next will never be known. It’ll never be known because Roman hits the end button.

And, he sits there. Alone. Thinking. Dwelling. Ruminating. All cognitive roads leading to one damning answer.

Traitors.

They’re all traitors.

For years, seeds and discussions of dissension have occurred, plans to dethrone him made and disregarded until one finally came to fruition. 

And, no one said a damn thing. 

Dead. 

They’re all dead to him. 

—------

Thinking is a difficult, arduous task when every path one conceives could lead to an untimely demise.

It’s a heavy realization Solana is slowly coming to as she sits propped up against the wall, gently stroking Brandi's hair as she sleeps on her lap. An unexpected position and situation that few would expect the women to be in. But, it was in Brandi waking up and screaming, clearly reliving her recent trauma, that Solana moved to console and comfort her.

She’s been there. 

She knows exactly what Brandi is experiencing, thus Solana working to soothe her back to sleep.

Solana doesn’t mind, because while she sympathizes with the trauma from the assault, she can’t imagine how devastated Brandi must be at being separated from her daughter. Not knowing where she is.

What’s being done to her.

It’s awful.

And, it’s why Solana is currently wracking her brain, trying to come up with a plan, preferably one that helps them get to Emma. 

To Solana, that’s the most important thing. Protecting the children.

It just unfortunately happens to be the hardest thing as well.

To the best of her abilities, Solana tried to observe and memorize the halls and make of the building. Tried to commit them to memory, but with each possible path to a rescue and escape, she was met with guards.

Armed guards.

And, with a pocket knife being her only available weapon, Solana knows it won’t get her far. She needs one as well. A gun, at the very least. 

Both herself and Brandi. If they’re going to escape this, and they will escape this, they have to be armed, too.

It’s just the how of it all that keeps stumping her.

Solana jumps and is immediately alert and cautious when the door turns, and though unsure, she's unwilling to show any fear at whoever it is entering. 

Especially if it’s Solo or Rikishi.

It’s not.

But, it's still that same level of anger and resentment she holds and feels staring at the person who remains in the doorway, tray of food in hand, guilty, almost contrite expression on his face.

Jey says nothing at first, closing the door behind him as he walks in. “Ya’ll should be hungry.”

Solana remains quiet, offering no reply as he moves closer, and she holds onto Brandi. Protectively.

Jey sighs, walking over to the desk, carefully placing the tray down. “You should probably eat—”

“How could you do this?” Jey’s nonverbal expression is an immediate, immense amount of guilt. And, that only pisses Solana off even more, makes her fist form at her side. “How could you betray Roman like this?”

Because as much as she hates this for herself, she hates it for her husband more. 

Hates that someone he viewed as a brother could do this to him. Could betray him like this. 

“Solana, you gotta believe that I had no idea they were planning to do all this,” Jey tries to explain, running his hands through his short hair, gesturing to a still sleeping Brandi. Solana hopes she remains asleep for the whole conversation. She needs the rest. So does Solana, but she needs to know the why more than she needs sleep. “Kidnapping innocent women and kids? That’s not me.”

“Isn’t it?” Solana challenges, jutting to the tray. “Because instead of bringing us food, you should be trying to help us out of here. That’s the Jey I know. Not some henchman bitch for his evil dad and brother.”

He’s initially quiet, Solana knowing she hit below the belt, but it’s hard to care in this situation. It’s hard to care anything about the man before her.

And then, a reply. “They got Nicki.”

Solana pauses. “What?”

She hates to admit it, hates to acknowledge it, but she can see it. Can see the distress that marks his features. Can hear how distraught he is. “Apparently, they had a feeling I would “turn” on them, so they took Nicki to make sure I “don’t forget” which side I chose.”

It’s a lot to take in. The last thing Solana expected to hear was that another innocent woman has been dragged into this nightmare, let alone Jey’s wife. But, while her heart goes out to Nicki, Solana has a hard time not focusing on Jey’s words.

“Exactly.” She finally speaks, voice low, heavy with exhaustion. Mental and physical. “You chose your side.” She lifts her chin, her tone leveled and solemn. “Now, you have to live with the consequences.”

Solana is well aware that Jey is able to read in between the lines of her response. As much as she feels for Nicki, she can’t think about that. Can’t be concerned when she already has so much on her plate. 

Jey did this. Now, he has to deal with it.

A grave realization that clearly overcomes the man as he leaves out without another word.

—------

 Roman has never feared death.

Not really.

Come close to it a handful of times in his almost 40 years on this earth, but the closest and maybe the only time he was ever really scared was the night his family was murdered. 

After that, fear became an emotion he had to bury when it comes to the end of life.

It’s not even something he’s really thought about, even in those moments where a brush with death was putting it lightly. He’s just never really cared. It’s also so systematic for him.

You’re born, you live, and you die. That’s just the order of things, and as a pragmatic person, he accepts that. It makes sense to him.

But, for the first time, in a long time, there’s a thought, a feeling, about finally meeting his maker—or not—that feels a lot more of a reality than it’s ever been.

Feels like it could very well be a possibility. An outcome.

And, it’s something he’s accepted.

He’s accepted it, because he’s also accepted that there’s nothing he won’t do to make sure Solana makes it out of this alive. 

That’s what’s most important to him. That’s the goal he has to have and keep in mind. 

Nothing else matters. 

He can’t and won’t be concerned with himself. That’s secondary. His wife and unborn daughters are his only concern, because he can’t conceptualize or even allow himself to think about any alternative.

He just can’t.

After grabbing an extra magazine and loading it into his vest, Roman’s heavy footsteps carry him from one room to another. And, the door is barely opened when Dulce lifts her head from where she lays on the bed. Tail wagging, her ears flop down when he moves over to the end of said bed. 

Roman chuckles, seeing the way her eyes close after he walks over to her, and she licks his hand, settling and laying back down. “You ended up being not so bad, after all, you know that?” Dulce shifts, rolling onto her back, exposing her stomach, her way of requesting a belly rub. 

He obliges.

One last time.

“You’ve always looked out for her…” He trails off, incapable of thinking back to how this tiny little creature potentially saved Solana’s life in more ways than one realizes. “Don’t ever stop that, alright?”

Dulce, innocent and oblivious, just continues to enjoy the belly rubs until they stop. Roman stands up and goes to walk away, only to hear her tiny bark. He turns around to see her jump off the bed, walking in his direction. “No. Stay.”

Instantly, her ears are back down as she whimpers, laying down, watery eyes never leaving his.

Roman swallows, offering a quiet, “bye, Dulce” before shutting the door.

Moving down the hall and over to the stairs, another familiar face waits for him at the bottom.

Ava waits until he’s right across from her to speak. “I should be going with you.”

Maybe. Roman can’t deny she’d be a valuable asset, but it was ultimately decided she would stay here with the children, them feeling significantly more comfortable with her and Austin versus just a strange man they don’t even know.

“You’re needed here,” is the only reply Roman offers as he adjusts his vest, rolling his shoulders.

Ava watches him. “Everything’s gonna be fine, Roman.” He looks at her. She offers a small smile.  “Okay?”

He doesn’t say anything, but he does reciprocate the hug she offers. Squeezes her a little tighter than usual.

When they pull apart, she hits him on his arm, half joking, half serious. “Go fuck em’ up, big ears.”

He chuckles, appreciative of her. Of all their times together. “Still not as big as that big ass forehead.”

Ava’s response is to flip him off as he walks out the house and onto the porch where Dwayne stands, also in full tactical gear, watching as Matteo, Rhodes, and Santos work together to instruct the recently arrived reinforcements on the game plan.

In the distance, Rhea, Angel, Berto, and Afia converse, also ironing out their strategy.

Roman says nothing at first, eventually swallowing, voice heavy. “Dwayne.” When nothing is said in response, Roman moves right into it. “I need you to promise me some—”

“No.”

An unexpected, blunt single word response. Not entirely unsurprising. Roman closes his eyes. “Dwayne.”

“I already know what you’re going to say. What you want to ask me.” Dwayne crosses his arms, turning toward Roman. “You want me to promise you that once we get Solana, we leave, even if that means leaving you.” The silence is all the answer needed. “And, I’m telling you no, because I can tell you that wife of yours would rather see us all dead before she lets us leave you behind.” He takes a step forward, comforting hand on Roman’s shoulder. “We go in together. We leave together. Aiga.”

Roman’s jaw clenches.

Family.

Aiga means family in Samoan.

The only problem is that Roman just isn’t quite sure just what family means to him anymore.

Not with all the betrayal.

Nevertheless, he can’t think of that right now.

He needs to be focused.

Matteo soon walks over, one foot on the step, the other on the ground. He directs his statement between the two men. “We’re ready.”

Two words.

One meaning.

Roman rolls his shoulders, walking down and forward, a man on a deadly brutal mission.

“Let’s go.”

—--------

Solana is startled awake when the heavy door across from her is sprung open with an unfamiliar level of aggression. She’s partially expecting Jey or even Rikishi only to be met with the cold blue eyes of the Caucasian man seen earlier in the day.

Brandi sits up, also startled, scooting back against the wall. “What do you—”

“Not you,” he dismisses. It’s only then as he moves toward the two women that Solana notices he walks with a sort of limp.

But, that’s farthest from her mind when he leans over and yanks Solana up by her arm. 

Goosebumps sprout up all over her, Brandi beating her with the question. “Where are you taking her?”

“Mind your business,” he grunts, Solana looking back at Brandi, partially trying to tug out of his grasp, only to fail epically. Her tug is no match for his brute strength.

Solana sees Brandi’s eyes fill with tears. “Don’t hurt her!”

The door slams shut too soon for Solana to try to console her, let her know that it’s going to be okay, even if Solana feels the complete opposite. 

She knows something is wrong. Can detect, even feel, as such while being led down the hall. She does her best to distract her tingling spidey senses by examining the space. Still no cameras. None that she can spot, anyway. Expected given the obvious age of the building. 

That could help a ton.

For what exactly, she doesn’t quite know. But, it’s one less thing for her to worry about when she does finally formulate a good, solid plan. And, she needs to do so sooner rather than later.

Stopping outside a door, Solana hesitates when he opens it and motions for her to go in. She doesn't, which clearly upsets him, as he shoves her in there. Improved balance prevents her from falling, Solana looking around the room to see it’s not much unlike the one she was just snatched from, including the cot in the corner that’s a bit neater than the one in her cell.

Like someone had prepped it a bit.

The sound of the door closing redirects Solana’s attention as she turns around and realizes he’s staring at her.

And, it’s unnerving as hell, to say the least.

Naturally, she does her best to put as much distance between them as possible, slowly backing away.

He makes a sound and whistles. “Ya know, Bron kept going on and on about Rhodes girl, and she’s pretty alright, but me?” An unexpected country voice is tinged with something borderline malicious and eerie. He gives her an uncomfortable one-over. “I always liked me a girl with some meat on the bones.”

And, it’s in that one sentence, Solana realizes her spidey senses weren’t just tingling just to tingle. 

They were a warning sign.

Her heart is beating through her chest as she somehow manages a shaky, “what are you doing?”

He says nothing at first, just steps forward, continuing to undress her with his eyes. Solana’s anxiety goes from bad to catastrophic when her back collides with the old, gritty wall. 

She has nowhere else to go.

Disgust fills her when he spits off in the corner. “That husband of yours fucked up and ruined my life, ya know.” There’s something about that statement along with his country accent and big build that reminds Solana of something. A conversation. A conversation with Roman she had not too long ago. 

Brock.

This man has to be the Brock they’d talked about in bed that day. 

She gasps loudly, realizing he’s directly in front of her. “Seems only right I fuck and ruin his pretty little wife as payback, don’t you think?”

No.

Solana’s first instinct is the one she works on. Foolishly, she attempts to dart past him, screaming out when he grabs her and picks her up.

“NO! LET ME GO!” Fighting and thrashing against him, Solana is a mess of nerves, terror, and determination. “HELP!” 

Her screams feel like they fall to the void, and she winces loudly when thrown onto the ground. 

On the cot.

Solana briefly shuts her eyes, having to ignore the pain in the back of her head. But, she’s forced to return to the terrifying scene unfolding before her when Brock straddles her.

“A feisty thing, ain’t you?” Words that send chills down her spine and travel her back to an earlier time in life. Easily, one of the darkest days of her life.

The day she was raped.

His statement is eerily similar to the same thing her rapist said to her as he started ripping off her clothes, while the other one held her down.

Something that forever changed her life in all of the worst ways.

Something that she swore would never happen to her again.

Solana promised herself that she would never let another man hurt her, and she meant that shit.

It’s a promise she can’t break.

Borck’s disgusting, meaty hands groping at her breast through her sweater, Solana knows she has to think fast, think smart, and without even realizing it, she’s stammering. “I’m—I’m on my period!”

It’s the first thing that comes to mind, and she’s immediately regretting it, because no way will he believe that.

She needs something else.

Solana has never felt as much disgust when she forces herself to offer, “but, I—I can—I can give you head.”

It’s nothing short of a miracle that she doesn’t throw up on the spot. A desire that grows exponentially seeing him smirk and his eyes light up at the offer of her doing something she hasn’t even done with her own husband. 

But, it’s the only thing that comes to mind that will get them to switch positions, that will allow Solana to be on top.

Because she knows what she has to do to keep that promise. 

To save herself. 

Wordlessly, Brock climbs off her, relieving the weight Solana didn’t realize was settling on her chest. She scrambles to her knees, again praying with everything in her that she can continue to hold back the vomit begging to be released as he moves in front of her, his crotch uncomfortably close to her face. His musty scent does nothing to help that nausea, Solana shutting her eyes and blinking the tears back. 

This is the only way. 

Disgust isn’t the right word, but it’s an accurate one nonetheless. Solana wills herself to place her hand on the buckle of his jeans, her eyes darting up to see him looking down at her with excitement and anticipation. 

It’s revolting. 

But, the moment he tilts his head back, rolling his neck, as if preparing for the pleasure that will consume him by defiling her, Solana takes it.

She takes the opportunity.

With impressive speed, she slides the pocket knife secretly tucked in the back pocket of her jeans out, unsheathes it and hesitates not one second to drive it into his crotch. 

His roar of pain is music to her ears as she yanks the knife out, quickly remembering the, now, most important part of the conversation she had with her husband. 

The unknowingly key part he’d shared.

“.....I speared him, he went down badly on his right leg, the dominant one, and fucked it up real good…..”

That same right leg she drives the knife into. Close to his knee, carefully avoiding bone but effectively severing muscle. More cries of agony as blood seeps out of both the orifices, and Solana retracts her knife, quickly jumping back to her feet. 

“I’ll kill you, you fucking bitch!” He shouts, going to grab for her, only to fall down when she moves out the way, paving the way for said fall. 

Somehow, someway, Brock rolls over to his back, revealing the blood that stains his pants, continuing to pour out of him at an abnormal pace. A pulsing blood flow.

Good.

A sense of joy fills Solana as she realizes she was effective in her aim. His artery. She went for his femoral artery. A major blood vessel. 

A critical one. 

The same way she once again doesn’t hesitate as she hovers over him, lifts her knife once more and rams it into the side of his neck, not stopping until it reaches the hilt. She watches his eyes bulge from his head and expertly dodges the spurt of blood that shoots out of his gaping wound when she removes said knife.

Panting, heart racing, Solana stumbles backward, watching how his mouth opens, as if he’s trying to issue one last threatening, hateful message before bulging eyes shift into nothingness followed by a stillness of his body.

Solana waits a good minute, ensuring he’s clearly dead before reaching and snatching the gun off his holster. Moving back once more, bloody knife in one hand, gun in the other, the reality of what’s just happened smashes into her with all the weight of finality.

She killed him.

Solana killed this man.

And though her eyes fill with tears, and that weight on her chest returns, it’s not exactly what she expected to experience after taking a life.

He was going to hurt her.

He was going to rape her. 

She had no choice. 

She did what she had to do to protect herself. 

To protect her babies.

There’s pain and trauma but also relief at carrying through on her promise. 

No man will ever hurt her again. She said that shit, and she meant it.

She stood on it. 

She stood on business.

Solana nearly jumps out of her bones when the door is suddenly open, prompting her to aim the gun in one hand and lift the knife in the other up, as if ready to attack the person who enters.

And someone does. A man of a stocky build, with a complexion similar to that of her husband and his family members. Red and black locs that hang freely, blocking some of his face, but it’s the way he immediately lifts his hand, as if defensively that has her intrigued.

“Hey, look, I’m not here to hurt you,” he starts off, gaze falling to Brock’s bloodied, dead body. He scoffs. “Good. I was gon’ make sure his ass ain’t make it out here alive anyway.”

A statement that both shocks and confuses Solana, but she doesn’t show it. Neither does she lower either of her weapons, all the while keeping the gun specifically aimed for the middle of his head.

“Look….” Gaze back on her, this unknown man continues to speak, sounding almost desperate. “I know you probably not gon’ believe me, and I don’t blame you. But, I had no idea none of this shit was gon’ happen. Tribal Chief had me shadowing and working with Jey the past few months, and he just told me to come along with him, cause Solo had some shit to share with us. But, I had no idea—” He stops, looking off into the corner. “Roman gave me another chance to prove myself after I fucked up a few years ago. None of this shit is right. Solo ain’t no damn Tribal Chief. Roman is the Tribal Chief, and to team up with the Nightmare Factory after what Rhodes did to our family?” Anger fills his eyes and voice. “To go after women and kids? We don’t do that shit. I got 5 daughters. I would lose my shit if someone did something like this to them.”

Words. They’re a bunch of words stringed together that Solana is following but not fully comprehending. Not sure what to believe, if any of it. Eventually, she finds herself asking, never lowering her only forms of defense. “Why….why are you telling me this?”

He maintains his repentant expression. “Cause, it’s not the whole Bloodline in on this shit. Just the weak-minded motherfuckers who ain’t got no spine. It’s a group of us that ain’t with this shit, cause ain’t no way Roman not about to come up in here and rain fire.” The first sentence to leave his mouth that makes her feel something. A sense of pride. A lot of fear. A level of hope. He vows, placing his fist over his heart. “We loyal to the only Tribal Chief, and that’s Roman Reigns.” He juts his chin in her direction, adding on almost proudly, “And that includes the Faletua.”

It only takes Solana a minute to realize why the term, though not in a language she’s fluent in, is a word she knows.

She remembers Dwayne referring to her as such before.

The wife of the Tribal Chief.

“Our job is to protect you, so that’s what we gon’ do.” He rolls his shoulders, nodding to himself.  “That’s what I’m gon’ do.”

Solana isn’t sure just why or how, but at some point in his explanation, the suspicion settled into relief. The doubt at his words was chewed out and tipped away by belief. She doesn’t know how or why, but she believes him.

Believes that he truly means her no harm.

And, that’s a relieving feeling to have when surrounded by the complete opposite. 

Finally lowering the gun and knife, she asks, probing. “And Jey?”

Regret fills his face. He looks and sounds a bit torn with his answer. “Jey seem like he ain’t know it was gon be all this, but he knew it was gon’ be something.” Solana doesn’t say it or show it, but she feels the same way. Maybe he didn’t know the full plan of this coup, but he knew something was being concocted. And, he did nothing to stop it.

That makes him just as complicit in her book.

The man whose name she still doesn’t know continues, adding almost regretfully. “Regardless, I don’t think we can trust Jey to be on our side, cause Solo got his wife.” 

Solana’s stomach drops. A part of her wondered if Jey was just saying that as a manipulation ploy. But, obviously, that wasn’t the case. “Nicki really is here?”

He nods. “I guess Solo had a feeling Jey might be on some shit, cause he got her locked up somewhere. Jey been trying to find her.”

Solana nods. She understands. It makes sense Jey would want to find and free his wife from this nightmare.

The thought urges her to make something clear. “Brandi and Emma need to get out of here.”

As somewhat expected, he looks at her with obvious disagreement. “All due respect, ma’am, you’re the pri—”

“I’m the Faletua, right?” He nods. “Well, Roman isn’t here right now. I am. So that means you answer to me, and I say the priority is getting that little girl and her mother the hell out of here.” And, she means that. 

Solana knows she also needs to find a way out, but her heart aches with knowing Brandi has been violated and traumatized in the worst way possible while simultaneously being separated from her only child. It’s a bit of maternal instinct and empathy that has her prioritizing the mother/daughter duo over herself.

They have to get out.

“Aight’,” he finally agrees. Solana is slightly confused when he steps out the door only to return with something black in hand. “You gon need this.” He steps forward, Solana handing him the gun—she keeps the knife—in exchange for what she realizes is a vest. 

A bulletproof vest.

“You know how to shoot?” He suddenly asks, turning around and allotting her the privacy to change. She’s appreciative, lifting her sweatshirt off to put on the vest. Over her sweater would work, but something about it being concealed seems to make more sense.

“Well enough,” is her answer. She takes a second to feel her belly, eyes briefly closing as she once again reminds herself why.

Why she has to fight. 

Finished changing, vest secure, sweater on again, it’s only then she asks, telling him he can turn around, “what’s your name?”

“Jacob,” he answers. Jacob. She commits it to memory, because when they make it out of this, and they will make it out of this, she owes him.

She owes him her life. 

—------

By the time the groups arrive, it’s nighttime, the dark of night aiding in the arrival of heavily armored trucks and equally armed men. Soldiers ready for battle, for a war that they have full intentions on winning. For Roman, it’s less a war, and more of an extermination. 

The map found online serves as an accurate, helpful guide, allowing the carefully cultivated plan, tactical and methodical, to proceed just as planned. The plant, as predicted, is heavily guarded and secured. The perimeter swarmed by both Bloodline and Nightmare Factory men. It all makes no difference to the groups. 

Targets.

They’re all nothing but intended targets.

It’s why they send in a number of men, elite Cartel assassins to sweep the outside perimeter, the use of silencers aiding in their silent takedown. Bodies dropping, aiding in the undetected entrance of the group of snipers to aid in taking down men from above, while the rest make their way through on the ground.

Ready and hungry for blood, Bayley rolls her shoulders, looking over at the group, questioning, “everyone knows what the plan is, right?”

A number of various types of acknowledgment, Santos speaking in Spanish to Angel and Berto before looking amongst the group of them, specifically the faction of snipers. “It’ll only be a matter of time before the pendejos make their way up to you.”

Afia’s eyes burn with the bloodlust. “I’m counting on it.”

Matteo chuckles. It truly is a tossup as to who will leave tonight with the highest kill count. His wife or his brother. Something tells him Afia might tip the scale in her favor.

Not only did the bastards enter her home, but they’ve gone after someone who she fully considers to be family. A sister.

A dire, lethal mistake.

Cody speaks up, Roman intentionally drowning him out, still deeply disliking the fact that he’s even present. Avoidance is the best and only way, however, to deal with that.  “We need to be prepared for….injuries.”

A general statement that needs no elaboration. He’s talking about Solana, Brandi, and Emma. It’s truly a hope for the best, prepare for the worst when it comes to that. Especially given they all witnessed how Solo had zero hesitation in order Solana to be waterboarded.

To be tortured.

“I have that handled.” Santos supplies, offering nothing more, a shared look and nod between himself and Dwayne and Matteo.

That much Roman notices, but he says nothing, because he needs to make something clear.

Something he’s not willing to compromise on.

“If any of you get to Solana before I do, you all take her and you get the hell out of here.”

It’s a bold, demanding statement that draws several looks of skepticism. 

Bayley is the first to speak, or to try, at least. “What about yo—”

“You heard what I said.”

Another valorous, brazen reiteration, the fierce, dark look in his eyes—and voice—indicating there is no room for objection or argument. And Roman confirms as such, directing his next statement solely to Matteo and Dwayne, “that’s an order.”

It’s a final statement. 

A last decree.

Still an order that’s met with reluctant acceptance, none of which can be moved beyond disagreement because Santos presses a finger to the comm in his ear, earpieces they all have to aid in communication. He nods, expression spoiling his next statement. “It’s clear.”

Afia nods, sharing a look with Rhea as the women fist bump. “Let’s go.” She shoots her husband one last look, an unspoken be careful, before the group moves out, disappearing into the night, each already knowing which building they intend to enter and climb, moving to the top to settle into position.

Restlessness is felt and slightly visible for everyone except for Roman and Cody. An irritating similarity but one Roman can’t deny nor can he entirely not understand.

They’re both men on missions, determined to rescue and right the egregious wrongs that have been done between them. 

Vengeance. 

And, minutes later, when a single sniper shot enters the night, the restlessness slips into something of dangerous silence.

Go time.

It’s a slow, steady thing as the remaining men, led by Roman, Dwayne, and Matteo guide the core group and fleet of soldiers by foot. The Tribal Chief is the one to issue the first shot, to see the body plop to the ground. Several more follow as gunshots rain from the sky, aiming and hitting Bloodline and Nightmare Factory men alike. 

And when the numbers even off just enough, Roman ditches the gun, opting for something more brutal. 

Something that fills him with a sick sense of satisfaction, that eases into the bloodlust that consumes him. 

With brutal and gory efficiency, Roman advances through the men, knife slicing deep, hitting bone in some instances. Blood squirts from his expert cuts, the sick sound of them choking on their own blood silenced by the stomp of his boot on their neck, a sickening crunch sound deafened under the hail of gunshots and mayhem surrounding him.

Roman is all machine and no human, as he brutally disarms and murders man after man, soldier after soldier, uncaring and unwilling to give a single fuck whether they wear the Bloodline or Nightmare insignia. It doesn’t matter.

They’re all fucking traitors, no matter what way one looks at it. 

They all deserve to fucking burn.

Around him, the brutality he extends to his comrades, is reflected in those fighting alongside him. Out the corner of his eyes, he sees Bayley yank a man backwards as she puts the gun to his head, pulling the trigger, brain splatter flying across, landing on other men who continue to drop, falling against the onslaught of the elite killers.

It’s a bloodbath.

At some point the gunfire from the top ceases, indicating Afia and company have been reached, and it’s confirmed as such when a body comes flying from the sky, landing grotesquely, limbs distorted, face grotesque from being blown off. 

Another of many victims the night still has yet to claim.

Roman can even spot Rhodes, deranged look on his face as he yanks a bloodied knife out of someone’s eye socket only to lodge it in the throat of a man honing in on him. Dwayne and Matteo work almost in synch, covering each other, gunning down man after man, resorting to lethal combat when necessary.

A loud battle cry of sorts is all Roman overhears as he turns just in time to seeing Afia use a hunched over, injured soldier as a makeshift spring board as she contorts hers body, legs wrapped around another man, flipping him over onto his back. She slices a large hunting knife across his throat, blood spurting out, flying wildly at the same time she uses the gun in her other hand to take down three other men. 

Not even seconds later, she’s back on her feet, brutally murdering another set of several men in under a single minute. 

The Opo has truly arrived.

Similarly, Rhea clears an almost path of sorts, expertly gunning down bastards, the dagger in her other hand suddenly being thrown across the way, somehow perfectly landing in throat of yet another dead fucker.

She smiles in sick satisfaction.

The same satisfaction that's seen on Santos face as he yanks a knife out of one dead man only to lodge it into yet another, now, dead man.

It’s obvious everyone is on the page.

Extermination.

This is a fucking extermination.

—-----

For Solana, the first order of business is getting to Emma, making sure she’s safe. Once she has Emma, they can retrieve Brandi and proceed with whatever plan Jacob has for trying to get them the hell out of dodge. She’s skeptical but somewhat eased by the other Bloodline guards who seem to have loyalty still to her husband, given their going along with Jacob using the excuse of Solo wanting to see the abductees.

Solana is slightly surprised at how he’s believed, but she doesn’t question it. 

What other option does she have?

Her heart is beating through her chest when they arrive at a door, Jacob dapping up and speaking in Samoan to the two guards who shoot her nasty looks. Solana diverts her gaze to the ground, recognizing her glare or look of indifference could potentially set them off or attract the wrong kind of attention. 

She has to continue to play the role of the scared, taken woman. And to be fair, it’s not entirely an act. She is scared. This is unfamiliar territory. Truly life or death.

It’s just that Solana has decided to give death the middle finger.

She’s not ready to die.

Not tonight.

Not anytime soon. 

Especially not like this.

The door opens, and she has to stop herself from pushing past Jacob to go in and gently coax Emma out. But, she can’t. Again, if this is going to work, she has to play her role, and it has to work.

But, the minute Jacob comes out with a crying, sniffling Emma, Solana can’t help herself. She instantly reaches for and pulls Emma into her chest, eyes shutting when she the little girl hold onto her.

“I want my mommy and daddy,” she cries, and Solana has to force back the tears.

“I know, sweetie. It’s gonna be okay.” She strokes the top of Emma’s head, vowing. “I promise.”

Because not only is she not dying tonight, Solana refuses to let anything happen to the little girl in her arms. 

No matter what.

“Let’s go,” Jacob barks, forcing the two apart. Solana can see the unspoken apology in his eyes as he guides them down the hall in a different direction from where they came. Solana holds Emma’s hand, whispering words of comfort, doing her best to offer any type of solace she has to give. 

However, the more they walk, the more audible sound becomes. Muffled, clearer with each step they take. An altercation, a brawl of some sort, but then it becomes evident it’s a lot more than just a brawl.

Gunshots. 

Solana hears gunshots.

Naturally, she moves to duck, covering Emma with her body as the men around her begin to shout, most speaking in Samoan until an English voice calls out with all the panic.

“Roman is here!”

And just like that, Solana’s stomach drops.

He’s here.

Roman is here.

She doesn’t have much time to think or process this piece of information, because Jacob is shouting at her, telling her to follow him. She does so, never once letting go of Emma’s hand as he leads them to a place unknown.

But, they’re stopped, two guards questioning Jacob about where he’s taking her and Emma, and he gives the same answer he gave before. Except this time, it’s not believed. Solana can tell the moment the man looks at her, neutral expression morphing into a glare. 

And then she's suddenly being shoved out of the way, almost knocking Emma onto the ground. Seconds later, a gunshot.

But, it’s not in the distance. It’s right before her.

“Get Brandi and get them out of here!” Jacob yells, gun in hand, walking over the body, two men flanking him as he shouts, shooting down and effectively dodging the onslaught of bullets.

Still, Solana is in fight or flight mode as three Bloodline guards keep a sort of circle around herself and Emma, leading them away from the shooting, away from the violence. Emma’s cries of terror absolutely gut Solana, and she’d give anything to try to comfort her right now, but that’s not the priority. They have to get out of here first.

Led down a staircase, the door is kicked open, and a left is made, leading to a large space filled with rusted equipment and other dated, deteriorated machines and items. Solana is about to pick Emma up, her little legs unable to keep up at a proper pace, when more gunshots ring out. 

Solana shouts and moves to tug Emma near her when she’s suddenly thrown shoved down, something, someone ramming into her. Solana’s head bounces off the ground, an instant, sharp pain slicing the back of her head.

Cut.

She’s been cut on something. Unsurprising given this space seems full and filled with potential hazards. 

“Got you now, you little bitch,” Eyes shut, Solana trying to ignore the pain, she doesn’t need to use her vision the person to know who it is. “I’ve been waiting for this day a long ass time,” Samantha hisses, Solana finally willing her eyes open to see the woman standing over her, gun in her hand. She smirks, looking up and walking away, “but first, I kill the kid.”

Seconds. It takes only seconds for Solana to register what’s happening. What’s about to happen.

In the distance, guards continue to spar, allies versus traitors, too consumed in their own battle to help her.

She’s on her own. 

With a sudden, burning rage, Solana moves up off the ground and runs behind Samantha, grabbing her by her hair and slamming her face into a nearby pillar.

Samanath cries out in pain, falling to the floor, the gun also tumbling out of her hand. Solana is quick to kick it to the side, chest heaving, fist forming, rage boiling.

Marching over to her, Solana sneers, eyes burning with unbridled determination. “You should have killed me when you had the chance, hoe.” Jumping on top of her, one hand takes a fist full of Samantha’s hair to hold her still, the other rains a direct punch onto her face, aiming for her nose.

Samantha continues to cry out, to try to push Solana off as she rains hit after hit onto her, grabbing her by her face and slamming her head repeatedly into the ground. The anger, the rage, the hurt, the everything Solana has felt in the past twenty-four hours racing through her veins, serving as fuel. 

The desire to survive. 

The desire to protect.

The desire to live.

Samantha manages to move her arm just enough, grabbing some inanimate object and bashing Solana over the head with it.  

Solana gasps, eyes clenching shut from the pain. It’s not sharp like the cut was, but it’s dull and heavy and forces her to roll off the other woman onto her side, as she grips her head.

Samantha stumbles off the ground, landing a kick into Solana’s back. "You took everything from me!" Naturally, Solana moves into a fetal position, protecting herself. "Now, it's your turn to suffer."

A nearsighted Samantha opts for a more final method of assault, turning away, wide, crazed eyes searching for the gun. Blood drips down from scalp, onto the cotton of her shirt. Her lip is busted open, also bleeding, the evidence of the brutal assault visible for all to see.

Solana, however, rolls onto her back, sitting up and seeing Samantha. Seeing her trajectory. Solana also sees the location of the gun, and she times it. It’s all done so quickly, too quickly for most people, but she’s a woman determined. And with that determination, lip curled, a loud roar of sorts leaves her mouth as she moves to her feet, charging for the other woman. Samantha is barely able to turn around when she's knocked to the ground from the impact of Solana’s spear. 

Quickly, Solana rolls off of Sam, grabbing for the gun that’s now in her hands. And the minute Sam tries to scramble to her feet, Solana aims, shoots, and lodges three bullets into her. 

One in the shoulder.

One in the chest.

And one in the head.

Samantha’s dead body crumples to the ground, still and unmoving.

Solana closes her eyes, placing her free hand over her chest, taking a deep breath. The pain of the fight, the throbbing in her cheek something she has to set aside as she throws the gun to the side, needing to find Emma. Opening her eyes and moving back to her feet, she sees all of the guards previously fighting all laying dead, too.

She swallows.

It’s just her and Emma now.

Solana’s anxiety spikes a bit as she prays Emma didn’t wander off too far. She starts walking in the direction she saw the little girl run.

“Emma!” She shouts, hoping the violence she displayed didn’t cause the girl to fear her as well. That’s the last thing needed right now, but it could very well be the case for such a young child. “Emma, it’s ok–”

Solana is both interrupted and silenced when someone grabs her from behind and slams her up against a nearby pillar. She tries to scream, but a hand is wrapped around her throat and something else is pressed against her stomach.

Eyes open, she’s met with vicious, burning glare and snarl of a man she immediately recognizes as the person who intended to waterboard her. On Solo’s orders, but still. 

Her fingers attempt to pry at his grip as he cuts off her oxygen, but true fear fills her when she drops her eyes to see what’s pressed against her.

A gun.

He has a gun pressed against her stomach.

“I just watched my brother get his brains blown out because of you,” he hisses, warm breath fanning her face. “All of this chaos for an ugly scarred bitch like you?” Solana closes her eyes, feeling the most helpless she’s felt all day.

Please. Her brain cries out for mercy what cannot leave her mouth. Her heart aches for Emma, aches for herself, aches for her husband, aches for her dog, aches for her daughters.

It can’t end like this. 

It can’t.

“You—” He stops, snarling and shouting. “Take any step closer, and she’s a dead bitch!”

Confused at why he’s shouting, the confusion is short-lived when she’s instantly spun around, his grip on her throat releasing, his forearm covering her neck as the gun is lifted from her stomach and pressed into her temple.

She would cry out if not for the fact that she’s now face to face with none other than Matteo. His gun is aimed toward her, but his eyes speak what he cannot verbalize.

You’re safe.

“Easy,” he cautions, and Solana clenches her eyes shut, needing to calm her nervous system from her anxiety that’s all over the place at this point. “I’m not here to kill you.” He pauses. “Just to distract you.”

At that, her eyes shoot open at the same time a loud gunshot sounds out. One that’s closer than anything she’s ever experienced. Naturally, she drops to the ground, covering hands over her ears as she coughs violently, gasping for the air that was previously deprived. 

And suddenly, hands are on her, prompting Solana to scream, fists beating at and trying to pull away from whoever is trying to pull her close. A natural, normal response. Something she continues to do until the ringing in her ears settles, and she can hear it. Can make out not only that something is being said but what is being said.

“Look at me.” 

It’s not a threat of unspeakable violence, it’s not a violent declaration or a promise of pain. It’s a plead, almost pained plea, of the most simplest nature.

So, she obliges and nearly falls apart.

It’s not void, dark eyes intent on murder. It’s warmth. 

It’s home.

She can barely breathe, her voice hoarse and battered from hours of screaming and crying. “Roman?”

He doesn’t move, just continues to stare at her, stroking the top of her head, willing her to calm down. “You’re safe.” Her eyes shut. “I’ve got you.”

It’s that last statement that nearly strikes up a panic attack, the emotions of the day tumbling over as she throws her arms around him, holding him, cradling him by the back of his head. 

“It’s okay,” he continues to reassure her, kissing her cheek, holding her. It’s a type of relief and comfort that she could never describe. Not accurately.

Her face pressed into his chest, hands grabbing at shirt. "You're here," she cries. "You came." He’s holding her, tightly, and she makes no effort to move away.

To let go.

Never. 

Never again.

He’s saying something, gently, but she can’t make it out. Not with her current emotional state. 

Eventually, he’s able to stand them up, separating them just to brush her tears away. A deep scowl falls on his face, as he assesses her, one hand feeling the back of her head where she’s still bleeding. His other hand goes to her stomach where he lifts her sweater just enough to see the bulletproof best. 

“You’re hurt.” He frowns, anger and regret dancing in his eyes. “Listen to me.” His eyes are now scanning over her, surveying her injuries no doubt. Solana can see his rage amplifying. “You’re gonna go with Matteo—”

She’s instantly protesting, shaking her head, “N-no–” It’s then Solana realizes and remembers, breaking away, only to call out, “Emma!” She can feel Roman and Matteo close behind her, not allowing too much distance be created between them. “Emma, it’s okay—it’s—it’s safe!” She points to Roman, “this is my husband. He’s—he’s here to save us, sweetie.”

It’s then quiet footsteps and sniffling can be heard, Emma’s little body emerging from the shadows.

“Oh honey,” Solana walks over, leaning down hugging her. “It’s okay.” 

Emma cries into her as Solana lifts her up, walking her back over to where Matteo and Roman, each wearing different expressions. Matteo seems sympathetic. Roman seems torn. He's not looking at a little girl.

He's just looking at a Rhodes, and while she can understand why, it causes her to ask him a simple but powerful question.

“What if it was one of our daughters?”

Roman closes his eyes, nodding, acknowledging the uncomfortable truth. With reluctance acceptance, he turns, speaking to Matteo. “Get them both out of here.”

But, it's his lack of self-inclusion that has Solana frowning and shaking her head. “You’re coming with us.”

He walks over, his hand goes to the back of her neck, caressing her skin. “I have to finish this, Solana.”

Solo.

He’s talking about Solo.

He has to kill him.

All of this she understands, except for the fact that it makes Solana literally sick to think about walking out of this place without her husband. Her eyes start watering all over again as Emma continues to cry quietly into her shoulder. “Roman….”

He steps forward, kissing her temple, “I’ll be fine.” She wants to believe that. She wants more than anything to believe that, but there’s a niggling feeling in the pit of her belly that she can’t shake. “I’ll meet you all in a bit.” He looks over at Matteo, the two sharing some kind of unspoken exchange.

Her voice cracks. “Roman—”

“I love you.”

His hand lingers on her cheek, his eyes burning into hers once more all of his adoration and devotion. And then, he’s gone, turning on his heel, seeking to end this once and for all. 

Solana has a hard time looking away, has an even harder time walking away, even at Matteo’s gentle hand on her shoulder, urging her to follow him. She does, never once letting Emma down, but her mind remains focused on Roman.

She can’t shake the thought that a dire mistake is being made in letting him go alone. She knows he’s just as capable as any when it comes to fighting, but this day has been unlike any other. While she knows she’ll have her fair share of trauma to process from the experience, something tells her his hasn’t been any easier. 

As Matteo leads them into turning a corner, Solana is met with yet another unexpected sight.

A group of people.

There’s too many of them to focus in on just one. Dwayne. Afia. Bayley. Santos.

Cody Rhodes?

And, it’s the latter of which who is the first to speak, his previously fierce gaze softening when he sees his daughter. “Emma…”

Emma’s head lifts up, as she turns around, her crying intensifying all over again. “Daddy!”

Solana offers no protest when the little girl starts wiggling in her arms, wanting to get down. The minute her feet hit the ground, she’s rushing over to her father who takes her, picking her up, eyes shut as he cradles the back of her head. “Emma.”

It’s a heartwarming sight for sure, Solana seconds later being pulled into a hug by Bayley.

Solana sniffles, shaking her head, assuring, “I’m okay.”

“Hell yeah, you are,” Bayley squeezes a little tighter before Afia tackles her with a hug, pulling back a bit sooner than anticipated.

She brings her hand to Solana’s face. “I told you that you were a fighter.”

A powerful little reminder. But, not just her. The people surrounding her by now all came together to help her, to help Roman. 

Family. 

This is her family.

And, family sticks together.

Matteo nods, taking the lead. “We need to get go—”

“We’re going back,” Solana announces, drawing all sets of eyes on her. Her focus though, is primarily on Matteo and Dwayne. “We’re not leaving Roman.”

There’s something close to agreement that flashes in Matteo’s eyes, but his words contrast that. “Solana, Roman made his wishes clear. Once we got you—”

“I don’t care what he said,” Solana dismisses. Because, she doesn’t. Roman’s priority, she’s almost certain, was rescuing her. And now that he’s done that with obvious help, he thinks he has to handle the rest of it on his own. But, he doesn’t. And, he won’t.

Chin raised, Solana motions to herself. “He’s not here right now, but I am.” A look of pride comes over Afia and Bayley, even Santos who looks almost impressed by her display of assertiveness. Of authority. “I am the the Faletua. I make the call, and I said we’re going back.” A beat. “That’s an order.”

It’s not familiar territory for Solana, speaking so boldly and authoritatively to such a set of people. Of some of the best, trained killers in the world. But, for her husband, she’ll do it. 

She’ll do anything for the man she loves.

Because not only does she have no plans to die tonight, she has no plans on him dying either.

Dwayne suddenly makes a sound, rolling his shoulders, rallying the group. “You all heard her. The Faletua has spoken.”

Solana smiles, grateful for the nods of approval and agreement. She then turns to Cody, voice softening as Emma continues to cry into his shoulder now. 

Her heart breaks for the years it will take for her to heal from this trauma.

She swallows, directing almost sympathetically. “Get Brandi and get out of here.” A bit of emotion fills her as she offers a small, sad smile. “Take them home.”

Shock flashes in his eyes, as well as something else she can’t place her hand on. But, he nods, swallowing deeply.  “Thank you.”

Solana says nothing, simply walking closer to gently stroke Emma’s cheek. “You are one brave little girl.”

Emma doesn’t say anything, but Solana doesn’t expect her to. She just needs her to know that. To know that in all of this, she possessed strength and courage.

That she survived.

As Cody walks away, Solana looks around at the faces of those staying and remaining, willing to stand with and by her. 

Friends.

Family. 

She nods, determination and adrenaline racing through her blood while accepting the knife from Afia extends to her. 

“Let’s go.”

—--------

Not an iota of shock fills Roman when he finds Solo in a large open space in the building similar to where he found Solana.

No, he knew Solo would be waiting for him the second his younger cousin realized that not only had he come, but he came with an army. An army that’s almost entirely decimated the traitorous bastards who chose to stand against Roman.

A fatal decision, clearly.

“Gotta hand it you,” Solo starts, standing up from the chair where he sits. “Well played.”

Roman says nothing. He simply starts removing his vest, ridding himself of what is not needed.

No weapons are required for this. This is deeper than two enemies coming to face off in a final round.

For all intents and purposes, this is tribal combat, and the only things needed for that are anger, motivation, and determination.

All of which Roman has an abundance of. 

Solo stands up and also starts to remove his tactical gear as well as the red ula fala around his neck. Both men rid of the necessities, there’s a sort of predatory dance that occurs between them. Solo chuckles. “You know it’s not too late.” He has the fucking audacity to raise his chin, a sense of faux supremacy lacing his voice. “Acknowledge me, and I might spare your ass.” 

If not for the rage that almost feels too much for Roman to function properly, he might laugh. This fucker is straight up delusional. 

The hell would he ever acknowledge this son of a bitch.

It’s difficult for Roman to not lunge first, his fist burning at his side to break every bone in Solo’s body. He will, he most definitely will, but it’s always worked best for Roman to allow his opponents to get the first hit. To make them think they have the upper hand by landing the first blow.

And, Solo is no different. 

He charges at Roman, the older, taller man allowing him a punch to the face.

And nothing more.

Roman returns the blow, Solo’s body nearly jerking back to the floor from the single hit that’s effectively broken his nose. It doesn’t stop there, because Solo’s second of delay, that moment where he’s frazzled from such a powerful punch, is all the in that Roman needs.

Spearing him down to the floor, Roman channels all of his emotions—heavy, light, somewhere in between—into the onslaught of violence being directed toward the man he once considered family. 

Roman’s expertise and experience is blatantly obvious. He moves methodically, predatory, and borderline animalistic. He uses anything in the vicinity to slam Solo’s body into, enjoying the cuts and blood that starts to mar his cousin. His blows are brutal, Roman’s blood boiling with every crunch and crack sound that echoes throughout the space.

He’s every bit focused on maximizing the pain and prolonging the torture, knowing he can’t make this son of a bitch suffer as much as he deserves, but with the time he does have, he’ll use every bit of it.

One hand wrapped around his neck, Roman slams Solo down into a nearby, deteriorating wood table, Solo’s shout of pain from the splinters that enter his body from the collapse of the desk under his weight are music to Roman’s ears. He could bottle that shit up and play it for all eternity, because no amount of physical pain could ever equate to the pain that son of a bitch has caused him.

Roman’s big body heaves as he notices a slab of wood with nails and other sharp objects. His next source of torture that he stalks toward, fully intending to break it off into Solo’s fat ass.

“It was me, you know.” A new voice, familiar but not present. Not previously, at least. Roman spins around to see none other than a smirking Rikishi. Roman starts stalking toward him, instantly adding him next to the chop block list. “I helped Dusty plan the hit on your family.”

It takes a lot to pull Roman from his focus, to deter him from his mission, to get him off his game. 

And that….that is most definitely one of the things. 

“What?” He takes another step, confusion mixing with anger. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Rikishi smiles. “Might as well have said I killed them. Killed them all. Well, everyone except you and that bitch, Fetu.” Each word that leaves his mouth is like a dagger to Roman’s chest. He doesn’t believe him, he doesn’t want to believe him. But, it makes sense.

Rikishi’s hatred has to be beyond the incident with Solana. It’s deeper than that. It has to be.

But, if what he’s saying is true, if he was a part of the plan that killed Roman’s family, that almost killed him, there’s a certain hurt and pain with that that cuts almost deeper than any of this.

A sort of evil Roman can’t truly comprehend in this moment.

“Your father was a weak man who didn’t deserve to be Tribal Chief. Just like you don’t.” Riksihi laughs, salt on an open wound, drawing Roman’s attention back to him. “Tell me, is it true you could hear your sisters screaming for help as they burned alive?”

Roman moves to lunge forward when something sudden, sharp, and piercing stops him. He grunts, pain shooting through his body when he looks down to see Solo holding the knife that he just stabbed into Roman’s side. A knife he jerks out, prompting Roman to fall to his hands and knees, face turned up in pain.

Pain that intensifies as Solo kicks him on his side, forcing him onto his back. Solo lands a blow onto Roman, but that adrenaline fuels the older man as he gains the upper hand, fighting through his pain and landing a blow on top of Solo when a loud sound and another type of pain hits him.

Gunshot. He’s been shot through the shoulder. A loud curse tumbles out of his mouth as he moves his hand over the area where he was shot only months earlier.

Out the corner of his eye, he sees a smirking Rikishi, gun in hand, but it’s a temporary focus point, because seconds later, there’s something pressed against the back of his head. 

Another gun.

“Don’t make me do this, uce.” 

The situation drastically shifts, taking yet another turn and twist that Roman could have never anticipated. 

Jey’s voice drips with regret, but he remains unmoved, standing with a gun to the back of Roman’s head.

His cousin.

His supposed brother.

“You son of a bitch,” Roman grits, groaning from the pain of both sets of injuries, feeling the blood from where he was stabbed soaking his shirt. 

“Pull the trigger, Jey,” Solo goads, coughing up blood from where Roman remains straddled on top of him, pinning him down. “Blow—blow his fucking head off.”

“You embarrassed me once, Jey,” Rikishi scolds from behind, voice cold and uncaring. “Don’t do it again.”

At that, Roman’s eyes shut, they shut from a lot of things. From the information told, from the information learned, from all that’s happened. But, they shut mostly because of one person. 

Solana. 

Her face is the only thing he sees. The only thing he thinks about in such a moment when maybe his focus should be elsewhere, like how to get out of this situation. But, it’s nearly impossible. He’s hurt. Badly. And, he’s cornered.

This realization, this forced acceptance of some sort leaves him one desire and one desire only. His wife. He thinks of his wife. She’s safe. His daughters are safe. And for Roman, that’s all that matters.

He fulfilled his goal, upheld his promise. 

His wife and children will live. 

So, if this is truly it, if this is truly the moment where he meets his end, he can die content. 

He can die happy.

“What the fuck are you waiting on, Jey?” Rikishi scolds, frustration brewing. “Fucking ki–” His demand is cut off, the sound of the gun clanking to the floor accompanied by his head tilted and forced back due to the knife pressed dangerously close to his throat.

“One fucking move, and I can cut your jugular vein, leaving you dead in minutes,” Solana hisses, pressing the knife she has aimed into his back further in, cutting through the material of his suit jacket. “Or, I can sever your artery of Adamkiewicz, which could also leave you dead in minutes. Plain and simple? You move as much as an inch, and I’ll gut you like a fish.” She swears, pushing the knife just a little deeper, mouth near his ear, voice mocking, “how’s that for an uneducated, stupid bitch?”

Roman tenses, floored but mostly confused at his wife’s presence. She shouldn’t be here. He told them to get her the hell out of here. Out of harms way. 

Now, she stands directly in the line of fucking fire. His stomach drops, physical pain dulled by a newfound sense of concern. “Solana—”

“You drop that gun from my husband’s head right now, Jey, or I swear to God, I’ll kill him.” She threatens, completely ignoring Roman, entirely focused on Jey and maintaining the deadly corner she has Rikishi in. “Drop the fucking gun, Jey!” 

One look at Jey, and torn isn’t the right word to describe what’s written all over his face. Nevertheless, he doesn’t drop the gun. “Solana—”

She screams, her shout echoing throughout the room, slamming and bouncing off the walls. “DROP IT!”

Rikishi suddenly chuckles, voice haughty and mocking. “You don’t have the guts—” He winces loud enough to gather the attention of both sons as Solana presses the knife at his back just enough to draw blood. 

“You have no idea what I'd do, the lengths I'd go to, to protect that man,” she vows, never once stuttering or wavering as she gives Jey one final warning. “I’m not gonna fucking say it again, drop—”

This time, Solana is the one whose silenced, dread filling Roman as he sees Nia appear behind her, gun in hand.

The same gun she has pressed against the back of his wife’s head. 

And, she’s not alone, several sets of Bloodline guards, traitors, hone in, guns drawn on both the true Tribal Chief and his wife.

“You should have stayed your ass outside, Princess.” She sneers, smile evil and malicious. “Coming in here alone? What kind of stupid are you?”

Roman can’t look away, can’t bring himself to do so, even as he feels his body weakening on him.  And, it’s because he can’t look away, he sees the almost smirk on Solana’s face as she asks in the calmest voice, “who said I was alone?”

Not even seconds later, Nia is jerked back, her big body falling to the floor from the emergence of Afia. Afia, who is suddenly on top of her, large knife in hand that she slashes across Nia’s throat. Nia is barely able to process what’s just happened when Afia pulls out her gun and shoots her directly in the middle of the head, killing her instantly. 

It’s not the only death that occurs. Bayley, Santos, Matteo and Dwayne, all appear, taking down the guards by both bullets, knives, and the sickening sound of a neck snapping. Courtesy of Bayley.

Rikishi's forehead is glazed with sweat, as is Solo’s, revealing strong indicators of growing nerves. Of the reality of the situation setting in. 

And yet, Jey still hasn’t dropped the gun.

Hence why Dwayne has his aimed directly at his cousin. “You don’t want to do this, Jey.” He’s slowly stepping forward. “Put the gun down, son.”

Jey’s expression is one of pure indecision, his voice frazzled sounding as he informs, “they got Nicki, Roman.” He informs, as if this makes it right. As if it gives him a reason for his betrayal. “My kids can’t lose their mother, uce.”

“We can find her, Jey,” Bayley pleads, knife in hand as she moves close to Solana, same as Afia, both women serving as buffers. “This isn’t the way.”

Jey’s bottom lip trembles, the weight of this moment weighing on him. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, man!”

“It doesn’t have to be, Jey,” Matteo’s voice is dangerously calm as he zeroes in on Jey from another angle. “Just put the gun down, and we can—”

It all happens so fast. Rikishi attempts to reach for the gun on the floor near his feet, an arrogant, fatal mistake, because it’s a mere matter of seconds that pass in between the time he’s reaching and when he’s gasping for breath, one hand over his now cut throat as blood streams out. In two areas, because there’s also a large wound in his back where Solana ran the knife through, making good on her threat.

“Dad!” 

Jey shouts, finally lowering the gun and moving towards Solana and Rikishi, whose big body drops onto the floor as he continues to look wide eyed, unable to speak nor process what’s just occurred. He seems entirely focused on his father, on his father who now lies dying in his arms.  

But, it’s a risk no one is willing to take. 

Not with the move he just pulled.

A shot rings out and Jey jerks back, cursing loudly, falling to the floor, holding onto his shoulder where he’s been hit.

Hit by Dwayne. 

Non-fatal, but grounding.

And with both his dad and brother now down, one with mortal wounds, Solo is also distracted long enough, aiding the true Tribal Chief with exactly what he needs. 

Roman easily grabs the knife out Solo’s hand and juts it into his shoulder, intentionally avoiding a fatal spot, joy filling him at the howl released. 

Jey grunts, holding onto his bleeding shoulder, sitting near his gasping for breath father. “Roman, please—”

But, it’s the Tribal Chief, not Roman, who methodically, lowers and lifts the knife over and over into Solo’s face and body, severing off his nose, practically sawing off his lips, cutting off his ears, Solo’s agonizing sounds of pain only silenced when Roman lands the knife directly into Solo’s heart.

His body jerks, a sound, a gasp is made, and then nothing.

Just the stillness of death.

Only then does Roman drop the knife and roll over onto his back, exhaustion from his injuries catching up to him.

“Roman!”

Solana shouts, running over to him. On her knees, she pulls him up, face paling with a devastating realization. “No….”

She’s not certain, can’t be sure, but by the amount of blood he's losing, he was stabbed close to an artery.

If not in an artery.

Her eyes water, as she caresses his face. “You’re gonna be okay, mi amor.” 

Solana moves quickly, pulling off her sweater, leaving just the bullet proof vest covering her thin blood stained tank top. She uses it to apply pressure to stop or hold off as much of the bleeding as possible from the stab wound. Gaze lifted to Dwayne and Matteo, she pleads, “help me get him up.” An unnecessary request as they were already moving to do so, helping a weakened Roman stand. 

As she goes to walk behind them, staying close to Roman, she overhears Jey’s loud curses at Afia, Bayley, and Santos who only try to help him up. He swats them away, denying their assistance, remaining with his now deceased father and brother. 

Alone.

—-------

Getting Roman outside the building and loaded into a truck takes much longer than Solana likes. It all takes too long. Dwayne and Matteo opting to go with her, the former driving as Matteo sits in the front seat after they help Roman into the back where he leans into Solana. The time it takes for her shaking hands to remove her bulletproof vest, wanting to feel her husband against her, body to body. 

Even the rushed goodbyes as the others load into different SUVs heading elsewhere or maybe following them. Solana isn’t sure. She just knows it all takes too long when time is not on their side. 

She holds him, his large, heavy body leaning into her, his breathing haggard, both his shirt and her own soaked and drenched with blood, the same as her sweater that she keeps pressed against his wound, doing her best to buy them as much time.

She doesn’t ask how far they are away from the hospital.

She won’t.

Roman’s voice is pained and weakened almost. “Solana—”

“No.” The most perfect combination of emotional and stern. A single word that’s the equivalent of someone standing in front of a door that’s threatening to burst at the seams, completely overwhelmed to the point of explosion. And, the explosion would be Solana’s calm, her sanity, because she cannot fathom nor will she even entertain what he might be trying to tell her. “Just–just rest.”

Trembling hands move up and down his shoulders. “Don’t talk. Just—just listen.” A quiet, still stern command that’s both for his physical wellbeing and her mental stability. And, while his silence might be the worst thing ever for most people, for her, it’s calming in a sense. 

Solana moves her hands to his head, stroking his hair, loose and wild. She keeps it out of the way, makes sure none of the blood that seeps through his shirt and onto her own clothing makes its way onto his silky mane. “It’s tonight,” her voice cracks, as she reminds him, “I–I told you I would tell you tonight.”

A night unlike any she’s ever experienced, she won’t let it pass without making good on her promise.

She doesn’t care about the presence of the other two men, doesn’t care what they overhear, what they learn.

It doesn’t matter. 

The only thing that matters is keeping Roman awake.

He can’t lose consciousness.

“I—I wanna use the money to create a foundation,” she starts off, having to revisit the many exciting realizations she’d stumbled across while on her trip. A trip that seems so long ago now. “I want to open up domestic violence shelters for women and children. One here and one in Mexico.” Solana holds him a little tighter, does her best to make him as comfortable as one can be in this situation. She knows the friction of the truck speeding through uneven terrain doesn’t help, but she hopes her words and information can allot him some type of solace. “And, I—I wanna name the foundation after my mother.”

That last part was something that took her a minute to settle on, the confusing, unresolved feelings of hurt, anger, and resentment towards the woman who loved and cared for her for the first ten years of her life, partially clouding her judgment. Solana had almost forgotten why that was an area she’s so passionate about.

Because while her mother wasn’t perfect and didn’t make all the right decisions, she was still a victim, too. She, like so many other women, lost her life in trying to make a better life for her daughter. For Solana. Alma didn’t do everything right, but in the end, she made the ultimate sacrifice.

And, Solana knows countless other women like her mother are out there, and she wants to use the time she has left on this earth to make it so that the number of women trapped in domestic violent relationships, along with their kids, have the help and resources Alma didn’t.

“I’m gonna double major in nursing and business, so I have that business knowledge, too.” She strokes his lightly bruised cheek, adding in a light voice. “You might have to help me sometimes with homework and stuff.”

Roman’s quiet chuckle is hard to appreciate with the grimace that follows it. He’s in pain. She knows it, and she hates it. Hates that she can’t miraculously heal him from his injuries. Can’t make the truck go any faster than it’s already going. All she can do is continue to try to soothe him with her words, distracting and informative. 

Another wave of emotion hits as Solana transitions to the more sentimental realizations. “Cataleya….I want…I want her middle name to be Alma, after….after my mother.” Scenes and flashes from the dreams of the quieter of their girls, her soft smile and warm eyes. “Because she…she has my mother’s gentle, pure aura about her.” Solana shifts just enough, moving in sync with Roman who groans quietly. “Catalina…” Solana is the one to chuckle this time, sharing, “her middle name will be Fetu.” Solana can feel it, she doesn’t know how or why, but she can feel the way he tenses almost in her arms. A tension that melts into something close to calm. “Because she has that fire in her like her daddy and her great aunt.” Flashes of their brave, strong little girl with nothing but determination and resilience.

Just like her daddy.

“And our son.” Her voice cracking reveals the toll of the situation that’s finally making its impact on her known, but Solana shoves it away. Forces it back. Not right now. “I want to name our son after you.” Solana angles her head to look at him as she gently caresses his cheek. “I wanna name him Tamasa.”

Roman’s eyes are shut, a small almost solemn smile on his face. "Yeah?"

She nods, eyes watering once more. "Yeah."

Because, she can't think of a better, stronger, kinder man than to name their firstborn son after.

It would be an honor. Truly.

Something settles in Roman's gaze, something distant and somber. His eyes close, his voice low and exhausted. “I love you.”

For the first in her life, those are the three words she doesn’t enjoy hearing. Not from him. 

Because she knows exactly what he’s saying.

He’s saying goodbye.

“No.” Solana can’t breathe. She can only shake her head, moving her hands to his face, slapping him lightly. “Roman, stay with me.” She’s only slightly relieved to see his eyes fluttering, a sign that he’s still fighting, still breathing. “You can’t leave me, okay?” He says nothing, just continues to look at her with that sad, solemn grin on his handsome face. “We have to build our house, remember? We—we have to have our big family.” Lips trembling, she presses against his temple, murmuring and crying against him, “you’re going to be okay.” 

A promise to him. A promise for herself.

For their daughters in her stomach and the children they’ll have after.

Because, Solana refuses to accept anything else.

She’s been through hell.

Roman has been through hell.

Their story won’t end this way. She won’t let it.

But, then the truck stops. Stops moving altogether, and she nearly loses it.

“What are you doing?” Solana sounds every bit as frantic as she feels. “Drive! He’s losing too much blood, we have to—we have to get him to the hospital!" Speaking aloud the uncomfortable truth and reality is a crushing, cumbersome thing. Because the reality is that while her words soothed him in some ways, it didn’t stop nor slow down the blood that continues to soak him, her, and the seat of the car.

A devastating reminder that time is most definitely not on their side. Every fucking second is precious, and she won’t stand for any of it being wasted.

“Drive!” She screams once more, nearly hyperventilating when both Matteo and Dwayne hop out of the truck. A nervous breakdown is right around the corner until the side door is ripped open, and a blinding light forces Solana to look away, protectively cradling her husband. 

But, it’s not just the light, there’s sound. It’s loud. Familiar. Chipped, intermittent. Deafening in some ways. 

The light is eclipsed by two bulky figures, Matteo and Dwayne. 

Solana realizes they’re pulling Roman away from her.

And, the panic sets in.

“No!”

“Solana, look!” Matteo’s voice is urgent and pressing, one hand restricting her, which only exacerbates her anxiety and anger.

But, she does look, and when she does, it’s an instant switch. 

The panic that filled and threatened to overwhelm her is melted into an abundance of relief as she takes in the scene before her, nothing short of a miracle.

A helicopter with the same color patterns as the local hospital, the star of life, blades moving rapidly, as if ready to take off at any moment. Bright lights on and doors opened, two medical professionals rush out to meet Dwayne who’s helping Roman remain upright and on his feet.

“We knew someone would be needing medical attention,” Matteo informs, as she looks over at him wide eyed and bursting with appreciation. "So, we prepared ahead of time." He gestures to where Dwayne can be seen talking to the paramedic, likely explaining the nature of Roman’s injuries.

If not for the situation, Solana would 1000% express to Matteo her immense gratitude. For everything. For it all.

But, in this moment, her only concern, the only thing she can think about, is being with her husband.

Solana is once again a frantic mess as she moves to climb out the truck, her legs carrying her over just in time as she tells, not asks, the flight paramedic, “I’m going with him.”

She’s met with zero protests despite the tight space, Roman’s big body taking up more space than the average person. Of that, she’s sure.

But, none of that matters. 

There’s a bit of a blur around her, as they work to get an IV into Roman, talks of tourniquets, hemostatic dressings, blood transfusions, while they work to get him as stable as possible as the helicopter lifts off, carrying them to the hospital where he’ll get the medical treatment he needs.

The treatment that will save his life. 

And, that’s what matters to Solana. That’s what has her finally sobbing, her hand in his, both caked in old and fresh blood, the same blood that stains her clothing and body, some splatters on her face. It’s all irrelevant. All immaterial.

They’re safe.

Roman is safe. 

He’s going to be alright.

He’s going to live.

She’s safe. 

She’s going to be alright.

And most importantly, their babies are safe.

The girls are going to be alright.

It’s a welcomed, cherished, moving thing and scene that contrasts the backdrop of a sudden loud boom, a painting of orange and yellow hues that paint the night sky miles behind and under. An explosion at the same plant where they just were.

Where some still remain.

--------

a/n: these two have been through enough. to kill off either of them would be trauma porn. not to mention, neither would ever really, truly recover if they lost one another. it would make all their progress null and void.

[ellswritings]

Masterlist ;)

*= smut

The Hunger Games

Imagines

Finnick Odair

Wasting All These Tears On You

Don’t Be Late

Love and War

Peeta Mellark

They Don't Know About Us

Katniss Everdeen

Johanna Mason

Haymitch Abernathy

Worse Things

Cato Hadley

Marvel Sanford

Clove Kent

Coriolanus Snow

Sejanus Plinth

Series

none yet :(

Teen Wolf

Imagines

Scott McCall

Stiles Stilinski

Derek Hale

Jealousy, Jealousy

Peter Hale

Chris Argent

Lydia Martin

Issac Lahey

Allison Argent

Malia Hale/Tate

Liam Dunbar

Kira Yukimara

Series

Lupus Nox- S1 Cast, Prologue, S1 E1, S1 E2, S1 E3, S1 E4, S1 E5, S1 E6, S1 E7, S1 E8, S1 E9, S1 E10, S1 E11, S1 E12

S2 Cast, S2 E1, S2 E2

The Maze Runner

Imagines

Thomas

Newt

Minho

Gally

Aris

Brenda

Sonya

Harriet

Series

none yet :(

Marvel

Imagines

Steve Rogers

Sparks Fly

Tony Stark

Snowflake

Bucky Barnes

Loki Laufeyson

Natasha Romanoff

Clint Barton

Logan Howlett

Peter Quill

Misery Loves Company

Gamora Ben Titan

Peter Parker

Peter Parker (TASM)

Thor Odinson

Michelle Jones-Watson

Wanda Maximoff

Pietro Maximoff

Series

none yet :(

Once Upon A Time

Imagines

Regina Mills

Emma Swan

Killian Jones

David Nolan/Prince Charming

Peter Pan

Rumplestiltskin

Neal Cassidy/Baelfire

Series

none yet :(

Bridgerton

Imagines

Anthony Bridgerton

How To Be A Heartbreaker

Colin Bridgerton

Benedict Bridgerton

King George

Simon Bassett

Eloise Bridgerton

Series

none yet :(

Harry Potter

Imagines

Harry Potter

About Time

Ron Weasley

Hermoine Granger

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Remus Lupin

Sirius Black

James Potter

Like I Can

Draco Malfoy

Lucius Malfoy

Tom Riddle

Luna Lovegood

Bellatrix Lestrange

Series

none yet :(

Glee

Imagines

Finn Hudson

Sam Evans

Jesse St. James

Quinn Fabray

Santana Lopez

Brittany S. Pierce

Rachel Berry

Mercedes Jones

Mike Chang

Noah Puckerman

Series

none yet :(

Criminal Minds

Imagines

Aaron Hotchner

Undercover Heat

Spencer Reid

Derek Morgan

No Place Like Home

Emily Prentiss

Jennifer Jareau

Matthew Simmons

Luke Alves

Kate Callahan

Series

none yet :(

9-1-1

Imagines

Evan 'Buck" Buckley

Eddie Diaz

I Knew You Were Trouble

Bobby Nash

Athena Grant

Howard 'Chimney' Han

Maddie Buckley

Series

none yet :(

Gossip Girl

Imagines

Chuck Bass

Nate Archibald

Dan Humphrey

Serena Van Der Woodsen

Blair Waldorf

Carter Baizen

Series

none yet :(

Pitch Perfect

Imagines

Jesse Swanson

The Flirting Game

Beca Mitchell

Chloe Beale

Bumper Allen

Cynthia Rose

Benji Applebaum

Donald Walsh

Fat Amy/Patricia Hobart

Series

none yet :(

WWE

Imagines

Roman Reigns

Relinquish Control

Cody Rhodes

Fight Me

Fight Me Pt. 2

Shake It For Me

Jey Uso

Just Friends?

Jimmy Uso

Solo Sikoa

CM Punk

A Gift for the Victor

My Hero

Seth Rollins

Double-Booked*

Rhea Ripley

AJ Styles

Damian Priest

LA Knight

Sami Zayn

Bron Breakker

Dominik Mysterio

Drew McIntyre

Series

None yet :(

Miscellaneous

Chandler Bing

New Years Eve

We Can’t Be Friends

[xoxorealitygalore]

Love Thy Neighbor 3

Bron Breakker x Black OC

Summary: Bron’s petty feud with his next door neighbor, Bluma evolves into something deeper as he begins to develop unexpected feelings for her.

Previous: Love Thy Neighbor 2

⸻ November 10, 2024

The morning sunlight filtered through the tall glass windows of the airport terminal, casting soft rays on the polished floors.

Bluma's footsteps echoed as she walked through the bustling crowd, her suitcase rolling smoothly behind her. The weight of the past few days lingered on her shoulders from a whirlwind of meetings, discussions, and a never-ending flow of paperwork.

As a patent attorney, her life often entailed swift travel to meet clients in various cities, juggling deadlines and negotiations in an ever-pressing race against time. This trip had taken her across the country to meet a prominent client about a pending patent, and the burden of that work had left her feeling tired and a bit overwhelmed.

Despite her exhaustion, a sense of anticipation began to bubble within her as she neared the exit. She couldn’t wait to see Bron. Their relationship has been growing to become a delicate balance of love, trust, and understanding, with Bron always showing up when she needs him the most and vice versa.

Bluma’s heart skipped a beat as her eyes scanned the waiting crowd for his familiar face. And there he was, standing by the entrance with a huge bouquet of pink roses in his hands. His face lit up the moment he saw her, a warm, genuine smile spreading across his features. He looked effortlessly handsome, his casual yet put-together outfit mirroring his easy confidence.

Bluma’s exhaustion seemed to melt away the instant their eyes met. She walked towards him, her heart lifting with each step. As soon as she reached him, Bron extended the bouquet of roses, their soft petals shimmering in the sunlight. "For you," he said in his usual warm tone. Bluma took the flowers with a delighted gasp, feeling the soft, fragrant blooms brush against her skin.

"I love it," she said, smiling widely, her voice filled with appreciation. The sight of the roses felt like a sweet declaration of love, one that spoke volumes without uttering a single word.

Without saying much more, Bron wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. The warmth of his touch seemed to envelop her, providing the comfort she had been yearning for over the past few days. As they stood there, the world around them faded into the background, and all that mattered was this moment, this quiet, tender reunion after time spent apart.

“Let’s get you settled,” Bron said softly, pulling back just enough to take her suitcase and lead her to the car. He helped her into the passenger seat before getting in on the driver’s side.

As Bron steered the car through the busy streets, Bluma gazed out the window, letting the cool breeze brush her face. She couldn’t help but reflect on the love that had blossomed between them. It was a love that transcended time and distance, one that had endured the challenges of their demanding careers and their differing worlds.

And now, as they drove toward their next destination, Bluma could feel the familiar flutter of excitement in her chest. Bron always knew how to make her feel special.

Their destination was a luxurious spa, nestled in the heart of the city. Bron had booked an appointment for Bluma, knowing she needed to unwind after her busy days of meetings. Bluma had always loved the soothing atmosphere of the spa, where the hum of gentle music and the smell of essential oils created a sanctuary of calm. She smiled as they pulled up to the entrance.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Bluma said, her voice warm with gratitude as she turned to look at Bron. “This is so sweet of you.”

“I know you’ve been working hard,” he replied, glancing over at her with a caring expression. “You sounded so stressed out when we talked last night. I just wanted to make sure you had some time to relax.”

Bluma felt a rush of affection for him. He had always been in tune with her emotions, anticipating her needs before she even voiced them. She leaned over, placing a soft kiss on his lips. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes about the love and appreciation she felt for him.

When the session at the spa concluded, and Bluma was fully relaxed, Bron returned to pick her up. He handed her a steaming cup of apple tea, which she gratefully accepted, the warmth of the drink seeping into her cold fingers.

As they made their way back to the duplex they shared, Bluma’s mind wandered to the small, intimate moments that made their relationship so special. She felt safe with Bron, safe enough to let go of the stress of her job and the constant pressure she was under. And Bron, in his quiet way, always made her feel like she was the most important person in the world.

But before Bluma could head to her side of the duplex, Bron stopped her. “Wait a minute,” he said, his eyes gleaming with something mysterious. “I made dinner for you.”

Bluma raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “What did you make?” she asked, the exhaustion of the day now replaced with a flicker of excitement.

“It’s a surprise,” Bron answered, his lips curling into a playful grin.

With a sense of intrigue, Bluma followed him to his side of the duplex. He unlocked the door and ushered her in first before following behind her. As they stepped inside, Bron led her straight to the kitchen. They both washed their hands, the sounds of running water mixing with the soft hum of the evening.

When Bluma approached the stove, she was met with an unexpected sight. The familiar aroma of spices and cooked vegetables wafted toward her, and she was surprised to see two large pots on the stove, their lids securely fastened.

She lifted the lid of one pot, and her eyes widened in disbelief. There, steaming on the stove, was a pot of Owo soup, accompanied by boiled plantain. “What? How did you make this?” Bluma asked, her voice laced with genuine astonishment.

Bron smiled, his eyes twinkling. “I had help from your mom. She was very excited to teach me,” he explained.

Bluma couldn’t contain her shock. She knew that Nigerian food especially her mother’s recipes was no small feat to master. Her mom had taught Bron how to make Owo soup so quickly. Bluma couldn’t believe it. Her sister-in-law, Hazel, had waited six months before she learned to cook alongside her mother. Even Shalom, her oldest sister-in-law, had waited a year before she felt comfortable sharing the kitchen with her. But here was Bron, who, in just a month, had learned to recreate one of the most beloved dishes in their family.

Bluma shook her head, still in disbelief. “Of course, she was. My dad always cooks for her, and that’s one of the main things she told me to look for in a husband. A man who cooks for his wife is a good man. A caring man. That’s what she always says.”

Bron chuckled, understanding the weight of Bluma’s words. “That explains a lot of her excitement then,” he said with a grin.

Bron’s smile deepened. “Sit down, and I’ll bring it to you.”

Bluma sat down at the kitchen table, still marveling at what she was witnessing. “I can’t wait to eat this. It looks so good.”

She nodded and waited patiently as Bron plated the food, carefully arranging each serving before bringing it over to her. As he set the plate down in front of her, Bluma looked at the steaming dish with a smile that reached her eyes. “I hope she told you that this is my favorite dish,” she said, her voice filled with affection.

Bron nodded. “She did. She told me to memorize the recipe if I wanted you to marry me,” he said with a teasing grin.

Bluma giggled, her heart swelling with warmth at the thought of her mother’s involvement in this small act of love.

Bron led them in prayer, his voice calm and reverent as he asked for blessings over their food. Bluma closed her eyes, grateful for this moment of peace and gratitude amidst the chaos of her life.

As she took her first bite of the Owo soup, her eyes closed in sheer delight. The rich, savory, and spicy flavor exploded on her tongue, and she moaned softly in appreciation. “Oh my goodness,” she murmured, her eyes rolling back in pleasure. “This is incredible.”

Bron watched her, his gaze was soft and loving. “Is it good?” he asked, his voice filled with curiosity.

Bluma nodded enthusiastically. “You followed her recipe, this is so good. I may never cook again. That’s your job now,” she teased, her smile playful and full of affection.

Bron chuckled, his heart swelling with pride. As he sat across from her, watching her savor every bite, he knew that this simple meal was more than just food. It was a symbol of love, care, and the effort he was willing to put into making her feel cherished and loved.

And for Bluma, it was yet another reminder that she had found someone who truly understood her, someone who could make her feel at home, no matter where she was.

⸻ November 30, 2024

Bluma had found herself amid yet another WWE event. It was becoming a familiar scene for her, a regular fixture now in the backstage area, offering support to her boyfriend, Bron. Survivor Series WarGames was one of the year's most highly anticipated events, held at the Rogers Arena in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada.

The electric atmosphere inside the venue was palpable, and for Bron, the night was set to be monumental. He was defending his prized Intercontinental Championship in a triple-threat match against two of WWE's most formidable competitors: Sheamus and Ludwig Kaiser. It wasn’t just any match, it was one of those defining moments in a wrestler’s career, the kind that could change everything.

Bluma was no stranger to the glitz and glamour of the wrestling world. Over the months, she had become a regular face in the backstage scene, her presence just as anticipated as the wrestlers themselves. Staff members, fellow wrestlers, and even the production crew, all greeted her with familiarity, respect, and warmth.

The harmony that existed backstage was evident, and Bluma had woven herself seamlessly into the fabric of the WWE family. She was always there when Bron needed her, cheering him on, and supporting him through the highs and lows of his career.

Tonight was no exception. She had made sure to clear her schedule, determined not to miss the big event. Bron’s match was crucial, and she wanted to be there. Front and center, not just physically but emotionally as well. She couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride when she watched him compete. His success in WWE was hard-earned, and every title defense, every match he won, felt like a personal victory for her too.

The backstage area was buzzing with energy as wrestlers prepared for their matches, staff members scurried about, and a sense of anticipation hung thick in the air. Bluma found herself roped into a conversation with a few of the WWE crew members. The topic turned to the idea of her ever stepping into the ring herself, following in the footsteps of many other wrestling partners who had, at one point or another, been involved in storylines.

“I don’t know if I have the right reaction time to be involved in a storyline,” Bluma mused, her tone thoughtful as she looked around at the group gathered around her.

She had never considered herself a wrestler. Bron’s world was one of intense physicality, aggression, and calculated strategy. It was a world she admired from a distance but never truly thought she would be part of. But as the question lingered, she couldn’t help but entertain the thought.

“What if I get hit too hard, though? I mean, I might forget that it’s all a show, and I’d try to take the person out,” Bluma added, her voice carrying a touch of seriousness.

She wasn’t entirely joking, and the others in the group recognized that in the sharpness of her words. The room burst into laughter, but Bluma wasn’t done. She sat there, imagining the scenario, envisioning herself in the ring, caught up in the chaos of a scripted fight, but in her mind, it was far from fake.

Trinity, ever the tease, was the first to speak up. “Oh yeah? What do you think you’re capable of doing?” she asked, a playful glint in her eyes. Bluma’s response, however, took everyone by surprise.

“Don’t let this sweet face fool you now,” she said with a sly smile, her tone shifting into something more confident, more assertive. “I’ll get active.”

Jon, who had been leaning against a nearby wall, laughed heartily. “Oh, she got some bass in her voice, y’all!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with mock astonishment.

The group erupted into laughter once more, but Bluma’s words lingered in the air, a testament to the side of her that few truly knew. Behind the elegance and charm, there was a fierce, trained side that had been honed over years of boxing and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. She was no stranger to discipline and strength, having earned her purple belt in Jiu-Jitsu, and though she wasn’t a wrestler, her athletic background gave her a deep understanding of physicality.

“Oh, you’re trained in BJJ?” Bianca asked, raising an eyebrow.

Bluma shrugged, a casual but knowing grin on her face. “I’ve been training for years. I just don’t show it off unless I have to,” she replied.

The mood shifted once again, this time into a more teasing territory. Joshua, who had been listening intently, suddenly piped up. “So, would you ever marry Bron?” he asked, his tone curious but with a hint of playful challenge. The question took Bluma by surprise, but she wasn’t one to shy away from personal topics.

The conversation shifted from wrestling to something far more personal. “You’re Nigerian, right?” Joshua continued. “I’ve seen how y’all weddings go down. Would you go all out with Bron, or just go to the courthouse?”

Bluma let out a light laugh at the thought. “I’m sorry, the courthouse will never happen. Especially not with my mom involved,” she said, shaking her head as if the very idea was absurd. “I’ll probably have a white wedding first, and then maybe do the traditional wedding another time. You know, with Bron’s schedule and all that.”

The group chuckled, but Bianca’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, so you’ve thought about marrying him?” she asked, teasing Bluma a bit.

Bluma paused for a moment, her gaze softening as she considered her answer. “Well,” she said slowly, “when a man learns how to cook your culture’s dishes, you have to think about marriage.”

The room burst into laughter once again, but it was clear from Bluma’s tone that her words weren’t meant entirely in jest. There was a level of sincerity behind them, a quiet acknowledgment of the bond she shared with Bron.

“Oh, Bron can cook Nigerian food?” Joshua asked, his voice filled with curiosity. “When did this happen? Why haven’t I been invited over for these meals?”

Bron, who had been standing nearby, couldn’t help but overhear the conversation. He walked over with a sheepish grin on his face, knowing exactly what was coming.

“I can’t cook for you all,” Bron said, his voice joking but with a touch of pride. “I only cook for Bluma.”

“Awe, not you gatekeeping,” Trinity said with a playful pout, but Bron wasn’t having any of it.

“Yup,” he replied, his voice full of mock seriousness. “You don’t know how hard it is to cook Nigerian food. I’m working out just to be able to stir the pot.”

Bluma laughed at his words, loving the playful banter that often surrounded their relationship. It was moments like this, the lighthearted teasing, the camaraderie, and the laughter, that made her appreciate the world she had entered. It wasn’t just the glitz and the spectacle; it was the people, the genuine connections, and the shared moments of joy.

Later that night, after the event had ended and the adrenaline of the match had subsided, Bluma and Bron found themselves back in their hotel room.

The night had been a success for Bron, he had successfully defended his Intercontinental Championship against both Sheamus and Ludwig Kaiser in a thrilling triple-threat match. Bluma had been ringside, cheering him on, her heart racing with every near-fall and every near-miss. She had watched as Bron spearheaded his way to victory, retaining the title in a match that showcased his power, agility, and determination.

Now, in the quiet of their hotel room, the world outside seemed far away. The noise, the chaos, the crowds, they all felt distant. Bluma emerged from the bathroom after a refreshing shower, the soft scent of her body wash lingering in the air. She wore a short silk nightgown, its delicate fabric brushing against her skin, the material shimmering faintly in the dim light of the room.

Bron, who had been sitting on the bed, tried his best to pretend he wasn’t looking at her. But Bluma, ever the playful one, had other ideas. She walked over to his side of the bed, her movements slow and deliberate, drawing his attention. As she climbed on top of him, her body close to his, she looked down at him with a mischievous smile.

“What are you doing?” Bron asked, his voice filled with a mix of confusion and amusement, though he couldn’t help but feel a flutter in his chest.

“I want you to see my nightgown,” Bluma answered her tone light but carrying an undeniable undertone of flirtation.

Bron let out a soft chuckle, though there was a hint of warning in his voice. “Bluma, you’re testing me,” he said, his eyes narrowing playfully as he tried to keep his composure.

Bluma, however, was unbothered. She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, “What? No.” But the glint in her eyes told a different story, one that promised more teasing and perhaps something else entirely.

It was moments like this, when the world outside faded away and it was just the two of them, that Bluma cherished most. Here, in this quiet hotel room, surrounded by the remnants of the night’s excitement, she felt a sense of peace.

And as Bron wrapped his arms around her, the promise of what was to come in their relationship hung in the air filled with love, laughter, and a little bit of mischief.

⸻ December 25, 2024

The holiday season was a bittersweet affair for Bluma and Bron. Christmas, usually a time spent with loved ones, was going to be different for them this year. The relationship was still new, still blossoming, but circumstances had them separated for the holiday. Bron was with his family, celebrating the occasion in the familiar surroundings of his home. Bluma, on the other hand, was at her parents’ house, surrounded by the warmth and tradition of her own family’s Christmas celebration. They both missed each other, no doubt, but there was no sense of distance in their hearts just a longing for the day when they could share moments like these.

Though the miles between them prevented them from spending Christmas in the same place, it didn’t stop either of them from going all out for the other. The joy of giving, the excitement of surprising one another, was something neither Bluma nor Bron could resist. Despite the physical distance, they were determined to make the day special. And so, as the morning light filtered softly through the windows of their separate homes, each of them found themselves waking up to the quiet buzz of anticipation for what Christmas morning would bring.

Bron had just finished enjoying his Christmas breakfast when he sat down to unwrap his presents. The familiar hum of excitement, and the scent of pine trees and cinnamon filled the air. He had gathered around the tree with his family, feeling the warmth of their togetherness.

But as his hands moved to the first gift, his thoughts were entirely with Bluma. What would she think of the gifts he had spent so much time picking out for her? Had he done enough to make her feel loved? He wasn’t sure, but what he did know was that she had made him feel something he had never felt before, utterly seen and valued. And that alone made this holiday one of the most memorable of his life.

Bluma’s reactions were a big part of the excitement for him. He had carefully chosen each present, knowing the meaning they would carry for her. The gifts weren’t about grand gestures or expensive things though she did get some very thoughtful and luxurious presents, it was about showing her how much he cared, how much he wanted to make her happy. The thought of her reaction made his chest tighten in anticipation.

As he reached for his phone, his eyes immediately went to the screen, hoping to catch her response to the gifts he had arranged to be delivered to her family’s house. He had been in constant communication with the delivery team to ensure everything arrived on time. Bron had wanted this to be perfect for her. And now, as his finger swiped across the phone, he could see her face light up as she unwrapped the presents.

There she was, sitting in the living room of her parents’ house, surrounded by the warmth of family and the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree. Bluma’s eyes sparkled with joy as she looked at the array of gifts, each one thoughtfully wrapped, each one a reflection of Bron’s love. She laughed in surprise when she pulled out the first gift, a carefully curated collection of books that she had been eyeing for months. Her excitement was palpable, a bright smile lighting up her face as she exclaimed her thanks, her voice full of genuine happiness.

Bron’s heart swelled with pride as he watched her. He had worked so hard to make this moment special for her, to show her just how much she meant to him. As the phone camera captured her reactions, her voice crackling with laughter and joy, his family watched him closely, smiling at the obvious affection he held for Bluma.

“You must have spent a fortune on her,” Bron’s mother commented as she looked over at her son, her voice filled with both curiosity and admiration.

Bron grinned, his eyes never leaving the screen. “She’s worth it,” he replied without hesitation, his voice low and filled with certainty. He wasn’t even thinking about the price tag. To him, the gifts were an expression of his deep feelings for Bluma, a way to show her how much she meant to him, how much she had become a part of his world in such a short time.

His mother smiled warmly, clearly pleased with her son’s happiness. She had seen Bron through all the ups and downs of life, and this new love seemed to be a bright light in his world. “You look so happy, son,” she said, her voice soft with affection. “I think she’s the one.”

Bron paused, looking down at the screen for a moment. It was true. Bluma had a way of making him feel at peace with himself, something he hadn’t felt in years. She brought out the best in him, and in the quiet moments when they talked or laughed together, it became abundantly clear to him that she was someone special. His heart warmed at the thought, and he nodded slowly. “I think so too,” he said, his voice filled with certainty.

His father, who had been watching the exchange with a knowing smile, chimed in. “She’s a keeper, son. She is.”

Bron chuckled softly and gave his father a nod of appreciation. He knew his parents only wanted the best for him, and their approval meant the world. But it wasn’t just about his parents’ approval, it was about what he felt when he was with Bluma. The joy, the laughter, the way she made him feel seen and understood, it was unlike anything he had ever experienced.

As Bron began to unwrap the gifts in front of him, his eyes glinted with surprise. He knew Bluma was thoughtful, but the next gift he pulled out of the pile completely took him by surprise. He opened a small box and was met with a key, just a simple, unassuming key. His brow furrowed in confusion as he stared at it, trying to make sense of its meaning. He looked at the note inside the box, and as he read the words, his heart skipped a beat.

The note read: Congratulations, Bron. You’re the proud owner of a fishing boat. May this be the start of many adventures.

Bron blinked in disbelief. A fishing boat? She had bought him a boat? His mind raced as he processed the words on the paper. It was an unexpected gift, something he had never anticipated in a million years. He had always dreamed of having a boat, of being able to spend more time out on the water, casting a line, and relaxing in the serenity of nature. But to have one, to know that Bluma had made that dream a reality, it was almost overwhelming.

The room fell silent for a moment as Bron’s family looked on in stunned amazement. His brother, who had been quiet up until that point, couldn’t contain his excitement. “Oh, she’s the one,” he said with a wide grin, his voice full of admiration.

Bron let out a breath, his chest heavy with emotion. He was speechless, unable to find the words to express how he felt. The boat was just the beginning of the journey, a symbol of the many adventures he would share with Bluma. But it was also a symbol of how much she cared for him, how deeply she had listened to his wishes and dreams. It was a gift that went beyond material value, it was a gift of love and thoughtfulness.

“I can’t believe it,” Bron finally said, his voice thick with emotion as he looked at the key in his hand. He couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it. The gesture was just so perfect, so Bluma. She knew him in a way no one else did, and the way she made him feel loved and cared for was something he would never take for granted.

As he opened the rest of the gifts from Bluma, it became clear just how much thought and care she had put into every one. Fishing gear like new rods, tackle boxes, and everything he could need for his next fishing trip was among the items, as well as a few more personal items that reflected her understanding of his life and his interests.

There were also a few surprises, little inside jokes, and shared memories from their time together. Each gift felt like a piece of her, a reminder of the bond they had quickly formed. It wasn’t just about presents, it was about the connection they had, the way they had already woven themselves into each other’s lives.

With a smile on his face and a heart full of gratitude, Bron excused himself from the family room and stepped outside to call Bluma. His fingers trembled slightly as he dialed her number, his heart racing in anticipation of hearing her voice. The phone rang, and just as he was starting to feel a bit anxious, she picked up.

“Hey, baby,” Bluma’s voice came through the phone, warm and full of affection. “How’s your Christmas going?”

Bron’s heart swelled at the sound of her voice. He didn’t even need to say anything right away, he just wanted to hear her. “I love you,” he said softly, his voice full of meaning. The words seemed so simple, yet they carried so much weight at that moment. He had never felt this way before, and it was all because of her.

Bluma’s laughter echoed on the other end of the line. “I love you too, Bron,” she replied, her voice tender. “Did you like your gifts?”

“Bluma,” Bron said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ve completely blown me away. I don’t even know what to say. You’re incredible. You really are the one.”

Bluma’s voice softened, filled with sincerity. “I’m so glad you liked it all. I wanted to make your Christmas as special as you’ve made me feel every day since we met.”

The words hung in the air, a promise for the future, a reminder of the bond they shared. Even though they weren’t spending the holiday together, it felt as if they were right there with each other, their hearts intertwined.

Next: Love Thy Neighbor 4

[bikinibottomdayz]

APRIL 10, 2025 RELEASE

All my videos can be found here, full release under the read more!

ORDER FORM HERE

This release includes: Boop!, John Proctor is the Villain, Oh, Mary! with Tituss Burgess, The Jonathan Larson Project, Pirates! the Penzance Musical, Real Women Have Curves

BOOP! March 26, 2025 | Broadway | 4K MP4 (9.78GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Jasmine Amy Rogers (Betty Boop), Faith Prince (Valentina), Ainsley Melham (Dwayne), Stephen DeRosa (Grampy), Angelica Hale (Trisha), Erich Bergen (Raymond), Phillip Huber (Pudgy), Christian Probst (Malcolm Carter), Colin Bradbury (Arnie Finkle), Morgan McGhee (Cheryl King), Anastacia McCleskey (Carol Evans), Aubie Merrylees (Oscar Delacorte), Ricky Schroeder (Clarence), Ryah Nixon (Mascot), Lawrence Alexander (Ensemble), Tristen Buettel (Ensemble), Joshua Burrage (Ensemble), Victoria Byrd (Ensemble), Daniel Castiglione (Ensemble), Rebecca Corrigan (Ensemble), RJ Higton (Ensemble), Nina Lafarga (Ensemble), Gabriella Sorrentino (Ensemble), Derek Jordan Taylor (Ensemble), Lizzy Tucker (Ensemble) Notes: Excellent 4K capture of this new show! Some heads are visible at the bottom but don’t block off anything. Some wandering and unfocusing throughout. Some washout on wider shots. Includes curtain call, audio fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjC6VcZ | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL OCTOBER 2, 2025

JOHN PROCTOR IS THE VILLAIN March 28, 2025 | Broadway (Previews) | 4K MP4 (8.37GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Sadie Sink (Shelby Holcomb), Nihar Duvvuri (Mason Adams), Gabriel Ebert (Carter Smith), Molly Griggs (Bailey Gallagher), Maggie Kuntz (Ivy Watkins), Hagan Oliveras (Lee Turner), Morgan Scott (Nell Shaw), Fina Strazza (Beth Powell), Amalia Yoo (Raelynn Nix) Notes: Excellent 4K capture of this new production! Minor head obstruction on the bottom, doesn’t block off almost anything. Some wandering and unfocusing throughout. Includes curtain call, audio fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjC7djm | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL OCTOBER 2, 2025

THE JONATHAN LARSON PROJECT March 24, 2025 | Broadway | 4K MP4 (6.38GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Adam Chanler-Berat, Taylor Iman Jones, Lauren Marcus, Andy Mientus, Jason Tam Notes: Excellent 4K capture of this show during its closing week! Minor obstruction on the far left from the speaker that blocks off very little. Increased wandering and unfocusing throughout. Includes curtain call, audio fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjC6FRS | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL OCTOBER 2, 2025

OH, MARY! March 27, 2025 (M) | Broadway | 4K MP4 (5.52GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Tituss Burgess (Mary Todd Lincoln), Phillip James Brannon (Mary's Husband), Chris Renfro (Mary's Teacher), Bianca Leigh (Mary's Chaperone), Tony Macht (Mary's Husband's Assistant) Notes: Excellent 4K capture of Tituss in the lead role! Some bar and head obstruction on the bottom but doesn’t block off much. Some wandering and unfocusing throughout. Includes curtain call and the post-show BC/EFA speech, audio is fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjC72Ne | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL OCTOBER 2, 2025

PIRATES! THE PENZANCE MUSICAL April 4, 2025 | Broadway (Previews) | 4K MP4 (9.19GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Ramin Karimloo (Pirate King), Jinkx Monsoon (Ruth), David Hyde Pierce (Gilbert / Major General Stanley), Nicholas Barasch (Frederic), Preston Truman Boyd (Sullivan / Police Sergeant), Samantha Williams (Mabel Stanley), Kelly Belarmino (Ensemble), Cicily Daniels (Ensemble), Ninako Donville (Ensemble), Alex Dorf (Ensemble), Rick Faugno (Ensemble), Niani Feelings (Ensemble), Tommy Gedrich (Ensemble), Alex Gibson (Ensemble), Afra Hines (Ensemble), Tatiana Lofton (Ensemble), Shina Ann Morris (Ensemble), Dan Hoy (Ensemble), Ryo Kamibayashi (Ensemble), Nathan Lucrezio (Ensemble), Tyrone L. Robinson (Ensemble), Bronwyn Tarboton (Ensemble) Notes: Excellent 4K capture of this show’s first preview! Some head obstruction on the sides during the second half of the first act, but are mostly worked around. Increased wandering and unfocusing throughout. Includes curtain call, audio fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjC7ScN | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL OCTOBER 2, 2025

REAL WOMEN HAVE CURVES April 8, 2025 | Broadway (Previews) | 4K MP4 (8.7GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Tatianna Córdoba (Ana), Justina Machado (Carmen), Shelby Acosta (Prima Flaca), Aline Mayagoitia (Izel), Florencia Cuenca (Estela), Carla Jimenez (Pancha), Mauricio Mendoza (Raúl), Mason Reeves (Henry), Jennifer Sánchez (Rosalí), Sandra Valls (Prima Fulvia), Zeus Mendoza (Newspaper Editor/Ed Wilson), Monica Tulia Ramirez (Mrs. Wright), Ariana Burks (Ensemble), Omar Madden (s/w Ensemble), Christopher M. Ramirez (Ensemble) Notes: Excellent 4K capture of this brilliant new musical! Some minor head obstruction that almost never blocks anything. Some wandering and unfocusing throughout. Includes curtain call, audio fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjC8uA3 | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL OCTOBER 2, 2025

[georgiapeach30513]

One of the comments my father made while watching knives out was noticing how smart ransom is but what a shame he used his smarts to do bad instead of good. Like you said, it’s like people don’t necessarily realize what he did requires an insane amount of intelligence along with cruelty.

I really don’t think rian johnson expected to create such a fun character as he did with ransom. I think he was writing it with Marta and Benoit in mind and ransom was just supposed to be both a red herring and the culprit with a throwaway ending because he “really did suck as much as his family said he did.”

But I think Chris made the role. I really do. I don’t actually think someone else could have done it. I mean, maybe if they had casted someone else in the role it would have been fine, but I really think having him be ransom right after the world saw him as Steve just turned the expectations upside down.

Ironically, I’m usually an ed Norton fan (I even preferred him as the hulk LOL than mark ruffalo) but miles bron in glass onion didn’t really do it for me. His ending was very anticlimactic and I def don’t think he’s the knives out villain people will be talking about when both movies get rewatched and rediscussed years down the line.

I still wonder sometimes what ransom is doing in jail. If he’s plotting his escape or something else. I also wonder about that house of his. I wonder about how he was like in school. I wonder about his dating life, if he had one, and if he was the one ghosting people or if he was getting ghosted. wonder what he’s like at parties - when they played the mafia game during Fourth of July.

For someone who hates his family he still shows up for family events. Does make you wonder if maybe he does still want to be around these people but everyone else just rejected him. Kind of sad now aw

(lol sorry for the mini tangent. I just love the movie and the character so much!)

I agree with all you said, and I also need to know everything about Ransom. Chris did such an amazing job with Ransom, and he gave him so much, well character. He was the shining part of that movie, with so many great characters. I think had Rian known what he had on his hands, things might be a bit different. I hope eventually we will see Ransom again. And I think Ransom had the potential to be so good. He was Harlan's favorite for a reason.

[edvinception]

Could you recommend some Swedish series to watch? Like stuff that is not on Netflix because I already watched all of them.😅 Just got a VPN and would like to dig into some of the local streaming services. Thank you!

Say no more, anon!

I'm gonna sort them by streaming platform. Some of these might not work for you but I'll list the ones I can think of.

SVT Play (these shows are free)

Händelser vid vatten (1 season, complete)

Creepy af, made me super uncomfortable but not in a bad way. Pernilla August is in it. Good acting. A thriller. Also based on a famous book.

Bron (4 seasons, complete)

BEST SHIT EVER!!! This one is the best of the best. Swedish/Danish crime drama. Soooogood. Must see.

Kalifat (1 season, complete)

Dark AF but sooooooooooo good. It will pucnh you in the gut. It's about a young woman who lives in Raqqa with her radicalised husband that is an IS warrior. This has been on netflix so my appologies if you have watched it already.

Fröken Frimans Krig (4 seasons, complete)

I've not watched this but Edvin is in it. It's mainly about women's fight for their rights in the early 1900's.

Other shows I've not watched but I've heard good stuff about

Springfloden Jordskott Taelgia Vår tid är nu Innan vi dör

TV4 play (former Cmore)

Gåsmamman (6 seasons, complete)

Had to include gåsmamman, of course. Because Edvin is in it and because I love the story. Scandi crime, very dark and violent.

Nattryttarna (1 season, complete)

Also very dark, based on true stories. Takes place at a fancy stable where alot of young horse girls work but get abused sexually by the owner. Frida Argento has a small role in it.

Ondskan (Evil) (1 season, currently airing)

Based on the book by a famous Swedish author. Takes place at a fancy boarding school during the 50s. Also dark and depressing.

Estonia (1 season, complete)

Based on the real Estonia accident. Estonia was a large Swedish/Estonian ship that sunk in a huge accident that killed around 900 people. The story focuses on the aftermath of the accident and mainly the investigation process.

Knutby (1 season, season 2 in the making but they are stand alones)

Knutby is also based on real events that took place in 2024. I dont want to say too much and spoil it but the story takes place in a very religious setting, in a christian church.

Viaplay

Älska mig (2 seasons, complete)

A comedy, with some darkness (but not really). Very funny. Edvin has a role in the second season. I love this series. I highly recommend

Heder (3 seasons, not sure if there will be more)

Heder is about four strong female lawers that work with female victims and has their own law firm. Of course nothing is smooth sailing with them and there is alot of drama. I love the cast of this one.

Thunder in my heart (2 seasons, not sure if there will be more)

A comedy/drama with a mix of comedy and darkness. Not my favourite but critics love it.

Leva life (1 season, I think complete)

I've not seen this but it's about a young woman living her best life when she gets diagnosed with cancer.

[thegremlininyourcloset]

so. I'm writing a fanfic. (series actually) the first chapter isn't out yet. It's a Kouyou-centric canon divergence au

have some songs that fit the major characters of the series.

keep in mind it's an au, so the songs might not fit the characters in canon.

The songs are selected based off vibes, themes and lyrics.

Ozaki Kouyou

King by Florence + The Machine

LABOUR-the cacophony by Paris Paloma

Oh No! by MARINA

Are You Satisfied? by MARINA

Eleanor Rigby by Cody Fry

Numb Little Bug by Em Beihold

Wait for It by Leslie Odom Jr. and the Original Broadway Cast of Hamilton

Everybody Wants To Rule The World by Lorde

Joke's On You by Charlotte Lawrence

Producer Man by Lyn Lapid

Brutus by The Buttress

Girl With One Eye by Florence + The Machine

Shake It Out by Florence + The Machine

Elise

Teacher's Pet by Melanie Martinez

Show & Tell by Melanie Martinez

Control by Halsey

Pure As A Lamb by Baby Bugs

Brave as a Noun by AJJ

idontwannabeyouanymore by Billie Eilish

HUMANS by GEN.KLOUD

Pumped Up Kicks by Foster The People

Just A Girl by No Doubt

Dance To Forget by Tryhardninja and Nina Zeitlin

Losing My Mind by Mystery Skulls

Dollhouse by Melanie Martinez

Yosano Akiko

NYMPHOLOGY by Melanie Martinez

Man's World by MARINA

Show Your Fangs by The Crane Wives

Would've, Could've, Should've by Taylor Swift

All The Things She Said by t.A.T.u.

Dream Girl Evil by Florence + The Machine

Army Dreamers-2018 Remaster by Kate Bush

Eat Your Young by Hozier

I Disagree by Poppy

DEATH OF A PREDATOR by Banshee

the AUDACITY by emlyn

the fruits by Paris Paloma

Yumeno Kyuusaku | Q

Body by Mother Mother

Play Destroy by Poppy and Grimes

Disobedient by Steven Universe and Kate Micucci and Michaela Dietz

Lights Out by Mindless Self Indulgence

Problems by Mother Mother

parents by YUNGBLUD

TRRST by IC3PEAK and ZillaKami

Body Terror Song by AJJ

Exorcism by Creep-P

BLAME IT ON THE KIDS by AViVA

Izumi Kyouka

Free by Mother Mother

I Am Not A Robot by MARINA

Hayloft II by Mother Mother

brutal by Olivia Rodrigo

as good a reason by Paris Paloma

The President Has A Sex Tape by K. Flay

Baby Hotline by Jack Stauber's Micropop

Cool Kids by Echosmith

Nakahara Chuuya

Family Line by Conan Gray

Wrecking Ball by Mother Mother

Brand New City by Mitski

Gasoline by Halsey

Bad At Love by Halsey

To Be Human by MARINA

Cigarette Ahegao by Penelope Scott

Lucy Maud Montgomery

Mad Hatter by Melanie Martinez

all-american bitch by Olivia Rodrigo

Entropy by Awkward Marina

Discord by The Living Tombstone and Eurobeat Bron

pretty little psycho - by Nightcore (the OG Version)

dumb dumb by mazie

all the good girls go to hell by Billie Eilish

Pantsuit Sasquatch by Mollylele

Wonderland by Caravan Palac

Animal by Sir Chloe

Hello Kitty by Jazmin Bean

Edgar Allan Poe

An Unhealthy Obsession by The Blake Robinson Synthetic Orchestra

Rule #21-Momento Mori by Fish in a Birdcage

Soulless Creatures by AURORA

Charlie's Inferno by That Handsome Devil

overwhelmed by Royal & The Serpent

The Consequence Of Imagination Is Fear by Junie & TheHutFriends

Songs for Everyone

The Fine Print by The Stupendium

Rät by Penelope Scott

Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land by MARINA

Bang Bang Bang Bang by Sohodolls

[tkrbthree]

I started playing my first ever TTRPG a year or so ago.

Last week I was kicked off the table because I stormed out after being made to feel unwelcome and stupid and not listened to. It wasn’t cute. It happens.

What I’m most sad about is that my character is just in limbo now. He didn’t get to say goodbye. He won’t be just killed off.

He’s just a shadow.

The host/GM refused to let me send a little goodbye story I wrote, so I’m gonna post it here.

•••••••••••••••••

Tavish opened his eyes and looked around his room in the Otari village. It was very early in the morning. He stayed still for a moment and listened to the breathing of his companions around him. Every now and then Zoro would let out a great snore that made the others stir, but no one moved. It had been an exhausting day as they fought their way deeper into the Gauntlight.

It had been harrowing. The dark corridors; locked door after locked door; not knowing if a being they found was a friend or, more often, a foe. Always going deeper and deeper underground, getting closer and closer to the source, closer and closer to Belcorra’s secret.

He sat up slowly in bed. Those stealth lessons he had been taking from Mitoh had started to pay off. He didn’t think anyone stirred. And if they did, he’d tell them to go back to sleep, that he was just going to the bathroom or some residual terror was coming back from the day.

He didn’t expect the life of a hero or an adventurer to include so much death, so much murder, so much abject destruction. He knew there would be battles, he wasn’t that naive. There were forces of good and creation in the world and there were forces of evil and destruction. He hoped that he had at least been putting some good into the world. But he wasn’t so sure anymore. It was starting to feel more like the influence of Belcorra was taking over the group.

He swung his feet out over the bed and found his boots. These boots had seen so much destruction. So much just murder for murder’s sake. How many times did he cast a spell at something in the dungeons because it was ugly or scary? How many times did he murder someone who just wanted to get home at the end of the day?

He tied up his boots nice and tight and grabbed his pack. He looked around at his companions and he found odd bits and bobs of his. Some of the faces were still strange to him. He had always been friendly but honestly couldn’t remember a conversation with many of them. Did he remember their names? When was the last time he had an actual conversation with Twink? Who even was Argot? Rhymar was the newest to the crew and things hadn’t gone well between them. But there was no time to dwell on that.

Zoro’s quiet but bullish nature was always a comfort. He was a steady rock of the group. Sure he was often distracted by something shiny, but he was always ready to hit back if one of his friends was down.

His favorite little mushroom, Morel, was the heart of this group. Constantly ready to defend and laugh at whatever stupid joke was said.

Bron was the bitchiest, but that worked so well for him. Tavish smiled as they called themselves the Backdoor Queens, always being at the back of a hall because they just did better from that vantage point, reveling in the work and vigor of their companions.

Mitoh was new, but was proving such a worthy ally. Swift and deft, they could move around and surprise you in the best ways … or the worst ways if he was helping you out.

Tavish had reached the door and felt a tiny tug on his pant leg. He readied the dragon claws, afraid that one of the newer companions was actually a spy. He turned around and saw no one there, just the sleeping crew. He looked down and saw that it was Bron’s raccoon familiar. He looked at home with big eyes. Tavish swung his pack around and found a morsel of dried food to give him. The raccoon was grateful and waddled away.

Tavish looked at his companions and pulled his cloak close around his shoulders. He was going to miss them, but they were going to be fine. There were so many of them now. Belcorra should worry.

This is not how he wanted to leave. He thought for sure that he would die, and he nearly had, before he just left, absconded in the middle of the night, but he knew no other way forward.

He closed the door behind him and went out to find a new adventure.

[gremoria411]

I’m currently at Episode 22 of Gundam Iron Blooded Orphans: Urdr Hunt, I’ve got about two episodes left and since it seems to be a two-episode finale kind of deal, I figured I’d take a break and note down some thoughts up till now, then maybe do another post after the finale. Though I haven’t really arranged these, so I’m probably just gonna ramble.

*The following contains spoilers for episodes 1-22 of Gundam Urdr Hunt*

I’m liking a lot of the Mobile Suit Designs, Gundam and Grunt. Plus, it’s nice to see old favourites again, like the Grimgerde and Hyakuren. However, I do feel like some could be better utilised - The Asmodeus is a cool design, and it works as a lancer to the Hajiroboshi, I just feel like it could have been used more.

Similarly, is is odd how a lot of the major threats are lead-from-the-front characters, since obviously they have to function as bosses. I dunno, it’s just strange compared to all the non-action opponents from the original series.

I really enjoyed Range and Katya’s inclusion as characters, since they’re just sitting there providing a good general basis of what the average citizen of Post Disaster knows - Katya knows a lot of insider knowledge of Gjallarhorn for example, which the others remark on regularly. While Range is sceptical of the existence of mobile armours and views the Asmoday as just a particularly strong mobile suit. So they provide different ends of the same spectrum, I suppose.

I like how each of the maids/guides has their own personality, and I like seeing how they interact with each of their charges. But I do wish we saw more of them. Part of its because they feel like they have that potential to shine very well, and it’s also quite a large cast, so not everyone gets an equal share. I also found it interesting that they were all stated to have been “bought”, so they’re all former Human Debris. Unfortunately, Parstai (blue, with Foundling) is the only one it really comes up with, but presumably the others had full and interesting lives beforehand. You get hints of it with Batch and Tagging (the two that go with Cyclase), with Tagging being an excellent mobile suit pilot, and Batch having experience in ship command and a cautious bearing, but we know very little of the others prior lives.

I didn’t expect to vibe with the Zan Brothers as much as I did, that was weird.

Kouzou Mendou’s pretty rad. A genuine Archeologist, hoping to reveal the causes behind the Calamity War, and just generally seems to be a decent fellow. He does admittedly score points because he very clearly understands how dangerous Mobile Armours were/are, and is the first character to really articulate that. I kinda wish he’d told us, the audience, some new information about the Calamity War, but that’s not really a criticism at all.

Cameos from other Ibo Characters - mostly I can take or leave them, but I’d be lying if I didn’t get pumped when Mcgillis (as Montag) showed up in the Grimgerde to fight Londo Bron. I also loved seeing Isurugi going around, being generally competent.

Actually yeah, Londo Bron. For my talk about Cyclase Mayer at the start of this, I found myself really enjoying Londo Bron, surprisingly so even. He’s a good pilot, he has noble intentions, and he feels like a really good example of an Antagonist, but not a villain. He’s only really opposing Wistario because he wants to restore the Issue Family, and Katya is the best way to do that (I might do a proper post on him some other time).

Another character I really like, despite their short screentime would be Major Bradley. He’s essentially the perfect picture of a colonial administration officer - he’s corrupt, he’s unreasonable, he’s pretty solidly classist, and it all just works. He’s not even cartoonishly evil, he’s just the sort of corrupt Gjallarhorn Official that illustrates the failings of the organisation. Obviously he shares a lot of DNA with Coral Conrad, from the original series, but the boredom, the arrogance with which he carries himself just makes him memorable. Plus he just looks obscenely British, furthering the colonial parallels.

I am absolutely loving the fight scenes in this. Yeah, a lot of the fighting is supposed to be for the in-engine graphics, so they could have totally phoned it in. But they didn’t. If only other shows that cut out background, story, plot and characterisation to ostensibly focus on the fights *cough* *cough* Build Divers *cough* could do that.

I do love how absolutely shameless Cyclase is. Just like “Oh boy, how do I get out of this one? I know, Betrayal!” It works into his character and it’s really fun to watch, but it’s just kind of hilarious how he makes at least like five betrayals in the space of the show. Very efficient.

Character Designs’ still top-notch. I don’t really have any specific examples that I haven’t already mentioned but yeah. It’s good.

Ah, I mentioned that I was considering getting the Hajiroboshi kit? The thing is, a lot of the time I can really like a character, and that can end up selling me more on their mobile suit’s model kit. This is the first time that’s ever happened with a mechanic. In brief; I don’t want the Hajiroboshi because it’s the mobile suit Wistario Pilots, I want the Hajiroboshi because it’s the mobile suit Denmer maintained all these years.

I do have two more points - one positive, one negative, but I’m gonna pull those out as separate posts, simply because I want to consider them separate from everything else, and I feel like I’ll want to follow them up separately after the finale.

In a nutshell, I’ve generally liked Iron Blooded Orphans: Urdr Hunt - it gives a good showing of the world of Post Disaster besides what we’ve seen with Tekkadan and Tanto Tempo, and a lot of the side characters are interesting. The only issue is that some characters and mechanics feel somewhat under-utilised.

(Though maybe that’s my own fault for hyping myself up for the Asmodeus).

[fearsmagazine]

MONKEY MAN (Red Band) | Trailer & Poster

Oscar® nominee Dev Patel (Lion, Slumdog Millionaire) achieves an astonishing, tour-de-force feature directing debut with an action thriller about one man’s quest for vengeance against the corrupt leaders who murdered his mother and continue to systemically victimize the poor and powerless.

Inspired by the legend of Hanuman, an icon embodying strength and courage, Monkey Man stars Patel as Kid, an anonymous young man who ekes out a meager living in an underground fight club where, night after night, wearing a gorilla mask, he is beaten bloody by more popular fighters for cash.

After years of suppressed rage, Kid discovers a way to infiltrate the enclave of the city’s sinister elite. As his childhood trauma boils over, his mysteriously scarred hands unleash an explosive campaign of retribution to settle the score with the men who took everything from him.

Packed with thrilling and spectacular fight and chase scenes, Monkey Man is directed by Dev Patel from his original story and his screenplay with Paul Angunawela and John Collee (Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World).

The film’s international cast includes Sharlto Copley (District 9), Sobhita Dhulipala (Made in Heaven), Pitobash (Million Dollar Arm), Vipin Sharma (Hotel Mumbai), Ashwini Kalsekar (Ek Tha Hero), Adithi Kalkunte (Hotel Mumbai), Sikandar Kher (Aarya) and Makarand Deshpande (RRR).

Monkey Man is produced by Dev Patel, Jomon Thomas (Hotel Mumbai, The Man Who Knew Infinity), Oscar® winner Jordan Peele (Nope, Get Out), Win Rosenfeld (Candyman, Hunters series), Ian Cooper (Nope, Us), Basil Iwanyk (John Wick franchise, Sicario films), Erica Lee (John Wick franchise, Silent Night), Christine Haebler (Shut In, Bones of Crows) and Anjay Nagpal (executive producer of Bombshell, Greyhound).

Serving as executive producers are Jonathan Fuhrman, Natalya Pavchinskya, Aaron L. Gilbert, Andria Spring, Alison-Jane Roney and Steven Thibault.

Universal Pictures presents a Bron Studios production, a Thunder Road film, a Monkeypaw production, a Minor Realm/S’Ya Concept production, in association with WME Independent and Creative Wealth Media.

From Universal Pictures, in theaters April 5th, 2024.

[wordsandrobots]

Another episode fansubbed by @trafalgarlog! We're back to Wiz and co for this outing, as Londo Bron closes in, certain heartfelt realisations are arrived at, and Lord Okina's hiring decisions are as plot-relevant as they are ill-advised.

Hajiroboshi  (Part 1, Part 2)

Departure (Part 1, Part 2)

598 (Part 1, Part 2)

Corridor of Betrayal (Part 1, Part 2)

Holder of the Ring (Part 1, Part 2)  

Unexpected Encounter (Part 1, Part 2)

Venus’ Worth (Part 1, Part 2)

Brothers’ Ship (Part 1, Part 2)

Horn and Flower’s Shadow (Part 1, Part 2)

Family Bonds (Part 1, Part 2)

Jumping straight into the action, we find Wistario and Range engaged in battle with a bunch of Gildas. No, it's not the Zan Clan come to make trouble again but rather a mercenary group hired by the Issue Family for the express purpose of tracking Katya down.

Our heroes are able to prevail, of course, however it's rapidly becoming clear that the Issues are pulling out all the stops to get their hands on a potential heir. There's no way to continue the Urdr Hunt under these conditions and the gang is running out of hiding spots. Plus, with their comms most likely being intercepted, they can't even call on their allies for help.

Sinister and Dexter have found another option for lying low: a colony nearby that has been 'undergoing refurbishment' for many decades now. It's basically abandoned and might work as a place to retreat to.

Since they've no way of telling if it really is safe, Range floats an alternative idea: what about taking advantage of the Issues needing Katya? If she was installed as head of the family, they (the Afam gang) could use the power of a Gjallarhorn Seven Star house to get what they want. They could buy Radonitsa without bother with the rest of the Hunt!

Katya point-blank refuses. She'd never take the name of those who abandoned her mother. Her mum only told her about the Issues at all after falling ill -- apparently to protect them as much as Katya. Even after being cast out, she wanted to safeguard the family's name, and even if it's selfish, it seems Katya can't stand the idea of having dealings with people who'd turn their backs on someone so loyal.

Wistario is on her side all the way. They're heading to the abandoned colony and that's final. He even rounds angrily on Range when the older man tries to press the matter. They aren't losing anyone! Wistario decides what happens on this ship and anyone who can't follow orders should get off the bridge!

In a rare (and more effective for it) contradiction of his young charge, Demner tells Wiz he shouldn't talk like that. A captain is not a dictator. Visibly distressed, Wistario agrees he's right, but can't bring himself to change his mind. They are going to keep trying to hide Katya.

Anyway, smash-cut to McGillis ruminating about blood. No, we've not crossed wires with a vampire!AU; he's thinking about how people can be raised in completely different circumstances and yet be fundamentally connected. Out loud, in his office on Glaðsheimr One.

Isurugi -- back to his normal job as 'guy who puts up with this kind of thing on the regular' -- correctly deduces Macky means Katya. Apparently there was something in the girl's eyes that reminded McGillis of Carta, though Isurugi is more concerned with whether it's a good idea to let her roam around free with Wistario.

McGillis states there will be a Seven Stars meeting in two months' time, at which he believes Okina Uroka plans to reveal the new heir to the Issue Family. If they can thwart that, the Fareeds will be able to fold the Issues into their own family and thus gain more power. (Possibly this option is opened up by Iznario being Carta's guardian? It's not made clear how McGillis intends to go about taking over the Issues' remaining assets.)

With this in mind, the situation regarding Wistario and Katya is perfect for wasting Uroka's remaining time.

Ever the voice of the thumpingly obvious, Isurugi posits that Uroka will do everything in his power to get Katya bad. But the General isn't perturbed. He already took steps to ensure Londo Bron's unbending sense of justice will get in the way of that...

Note here -- it's not clear if the meeting referred to here and throughout the episode is *the* meeting we see taking place at the start of Season 2. That could be the intention, I think, given the Urdr Hunt has been eating through the months like nobody's business. We might indeed be nearing the start of PD 325 at this point. But it's not confirmed yet.

Aboard the Issue Family Skipjack-class command ship, the other side of this game of five-dimensional chess is receiving a list of 'potential replacements', including civilians they can call on immediately and those belonging to other organisations. Okina Uroka is short with the officer who brought it in (I think this is the first time we've had a female Gajallarhorn grunt on screen in IBO?): just pick one. They need to have everything ready by the time Katya has been captured.

It's at this point that Londo Bron marches in, in all his statuesque glory. He should be out leading the hunt for Katya, but he's returned on account of an anonymous message informing him that Lord Okina is forming a unit of pirates, mafia and other unsavory types.

And like, number one, real subtle, Macky. But number two, Okina's reaction is basically 'yes and . . . ?'

Bron is incensed. Recruiting criminals would bring shame on the Issues' name! Entirely unmoved, Okina reminds him the Outer Earth Regulatory Joint Fleet was destroyed by Tekkadan. They've lost most of the Issue Family' top officers. Therefore, they need to replenish their strength however they can.

(I find this a bit peculiar if I'm honest: Tekkadan's fight with Carta's fleet was largely restricted to mobile suit combat. None of the Halfbeaks were sunk and even Akihiro putting a few shells through an aircraft carrier didn't appear to lead to any high-ranking fatalities. Surely Carta's elite guard don't account for the entire crop of promising soldiers? Or is it simply a matter of loyalty? Perhaps Tekkadan managed to shank everybody personally loyal to the Issues and the rest have jumped over to McGillis' side already?)

Pride hurt, Bron insists his troops have been training extremely hard to pick up the slack. Is that not enough?

Okina states that once they have Katya, they need to hold a massive ceremony to inaugurate her. It must be glorious, broadcast far and wide. In effect, it would appear this shady unit is intended to make up the numbers, showing the Issues are still strong.

Bron questions moving ahead with such reorganisation without regard for Katya's input as the new family head. A single mistake could lead to the Issues being . . . the sub is 'privatised', which in context I assume refers to what McGillis was talking about earlier? If the Issues screw up, their holdings will be taken over by another family. Okina assumes the good captain he is acting entirely in Katya's interests. But they have to be ready for the meeting in two months. And isn't it Bron's duty to finish tracking the new heir down?

Saying he simply wished to discuss the above points first, Bron strides out. Once he's gone, Okina mutters about being unable to talk to warriors who know nothing of politics. He wonders if Bron means to denounce him and it's clear the man will be an obstacle to the Issue Family's restoration sooner or later.

Welp, time to start looking for a new henchman. Okina consults the list, which features a certain maroon-haired personage we -- and he -- recognise. He never thought he'd see that name here. And he orders his aide to contact this man as soon as possible.

Back on the Erda II, Range asks Demner to confirm Wistario was acting weird earlier. It's clear the pressure is getting to him and he's being overly stubborn about Katya's situation. Even Dexter agrees.

Range is blunt: screw this up and they could all die. Shouldn't an adult be the one in control at this point? Demner insists Wistario isn't just a kid . . . but he must be working through complicated feelings. Range is not impressed with the conclusion that they need to watch and have faith, but is interrupted by Wiz and Korunaru bursting in.

Katya is missing! They've searched all over the ship and can't find her. But Sinister pipes up, saying the young lady told him she was going for some fresh air . . .

Inside the disused colony, we find a landscape of sand and tumble-down buildings. Obviously the refurbishment work stopped at 'clear the ground'. It's rather nicely done, I think, with the structure of the O'Neil cylinder visible through the blue haze of the artificial sky and everything gone a bit Wild West with desertification.

Katya wanders along wrapped in a cloak, until she hears aircraft engines closing in. Hajiroboshi lands before her in a cloud of dust, Korunaru clutched in its hands, and Wistario calls out. He tells Katya she can't go off on her own and she apologises. But is it OK if she stays on the colony?

This is all her fault. If she wasn't with them, they could continue the Hunt without any problems. Korunaru is shocked to think this is why she left the ship. Katya, however, explains that the first time Gjallarhorn came for her, she was at school. She ran away without knowing if she'd see her friends or teachers again. She came to think she'd be running from place to place for the rest of her life. Which is why she was so happy when they said she could stay with them forever. Even Range! It was kind of like family . . . like home.

Korunaru says she's been feeling the same way. Being with everyone feels so warm. Katya agrees. For all that they've not known each other long, it feels like this is where she belongs. But that's exactly why she doesn't want to bother the people she loves with her troubles.

Wistario's brain has gone 'ding' during this conversation and he suddenly gets what he's been feeling all this time. A family! That's what they are! He can't hand her over to the Issues because she's part of his family. He forced himself to believe he had no choice except to be lonely as his old friends left Venus one by one. Only, since the Urdr Hunt began, he's made more and more new friends, and he thinks if he'd thought of his friends on Venus as family, then maybe he wouldn't have lost them. He's not going to give up again!

Which is not necessarily an entirely healthy attitude and certainly Katya is a bit lost. But Wiz says that's fine. He understands and that's because of her.

However, right as they're all about to head back to the ship together, Bron's forces surround everyone, both Hajiroboshi and the Erda II. Once more, the captain says they are here for Katya and asks her to please come with them. Once more, she refuses, in spite of Bron trying to assure her of her importance and even offering to welcome her friends as honoured guests. Katya is furious at being asked to help those who never once helped her or her mother. Even if there are good people among the Issues, she still doesn't want anything to do with them.

Wistario interrupts Bron's continued appeals to say that the Issues aren't the only ones who need Katya so can they just back off already? Bron identifies him by name and thanks him for protecting 'Lady Katya'. However, they cannot leave her with Afam Equipment. The three hundred years of Issue Family history hinges on getting her back. What does Wistario need her for that compares to that?

Katya is Wistario's family. That's it, that's the whole reason.

Losing his temper quite rapidly, Bron insists the Issues are her real family, since the blood of their head is in her veins. Some 'pretend family' is not equal to that. Wistario is equally insistent that it's not pretend, which causes Bron's two brain cells to knock into one another and reach some rather alarming conclusions. Just what exactly does Wistario mean?!

Rolling with it, our protagonist announces he and Katya are going to get married, causing Katya to stare in open-mouthed shock while Korunaru tries very hard to keep from bursting out laughing. Bron's blood-pressure reaches orbit, and back on the ship, everyone on the bridge is equally stunned.

Wistario keeps going, saying Katya will be a member of the Afam family, so the Issues will have to give up. Unfortunately, Korunaru is the only one to twig this as a stalling tactic. Katya continues to be flabbergasted, Dexter worries about her taking it to heart and Range laments over another missed memo. Sinister, meanwhile, has the look of a man already planning place-settings.

Unfortunately, to say Bron takes the news badly would be to understate things drastically. As the gang rallies around Wistario's determination to 'have it all' as Range puts it, the captain loses his rag at the thought of his lady ending up with a commoner. He orders his troops forward, to eliminate the crew of the ship and take Katya by force. Wistario continues to hold firm, refusing to choose between his companions.

And Katya leaps off Hajiroboshi's hand, whips out a knife labelled with the Issue crest and holds it to her throat, demanding that nobody move.

She announces she's going with Bron, thanking Wistario for protecting her to the end. Knowing he cared that much, she could die happy here and now. So it's her turn to protect him and everyone else. Because that's what family does, right?

A little while later, Okina receives the good news. All that's left is for them to leave the area with Katya. He asks his aide if she's gotten word from the candidate? She has, and more besides. Okina is very interested to hear that Cyclase Meyer has abandoned Omden and killed all his subordinates. As usual, the man is unpredictable. Time to put him to work.

And later still, a distraught Wistario and Korunaru watch Londo's Halfbeak sail off. Wistario swears not to give up. They are absolutely going to get Katya back.

So there we have it. A downer ending for this installment, with Katya suffering the fate she has been running from all this time for the sake of her new-found family. But it's not the end and with Lord Okina bringing Cyclase in for reasons-yet-to-be-revealed, things can surely only heat up from here.

I remain on tenterhooks to find out if Okina actually is Carta and Katya's dad or some other relative. I'm not saying it seems out of place for a Gjallarhorn lord to be this cold towards his progeny, but clearly the man is at odds with the likes of Bron, and his overt maneuvering raises the question of where Carta got her fanatical sense of doing things by the book. Hopefully it will all be explained to Katya and therefore us before too long.

Bron himself is evidently trending towards doing what McGillis wants and wrecking everything, especially with his various bouts of loyalty to Katya throughout this episode. However, he might have to be quick about if he doesn't want Cyclase to beat him to the punch. Very, um, bold of Lord Okina to hire someone whose resume is literally 'murdered or attempted to murder everyone he ever worked with and for'. Still, I'm sure the resources of a Seven Stars command ship will come in handy for breaking into the Highly Mysterious Top Secret Zone of Doom.

Over with the protagonists, Korunaru's lack of backstory or character development is really starting to bite. She kind of feels like she's just there to echo what everyone else says, and not in a manner that becomes a character trait in its own right. I sincerely think this would not be the case if the game was fully animated, because I have the impression they're going for someone whose personality is conveyed by what she does, rather than what she says. The bit with her doubled over giggling at the idea of Wistario just proposing to Katya out of the blue works well in contrasting her to the others. But sadly, with so much of this as static game cut-scenes, we lose a bunch of places where we could have more of that.

As a result, I don't feel this declaration of family lands as well as those from IBO proper or even Moon Steel. We're circling back to my general criticism that Wistario is described as being a lot more magnetic than I personally feel he's been portrayed as. Certainly there is a part of me that wants to home in on how self-centric his view of family is, in a way I'm not yet convinced is intentional.

However, as rote as it was, I do appreciate that Katya ended up finally taking control of her situation, to at least a small degree. If she can get Bron on side, and survive whatever havoc Cyclase is bound to unleash, there's even a chance she'll solve the Issue plot entirely on her own, which I'd definitely be here for.

[aspirationalbrand]

eleanor bron when casting calls for the most grating woman on earth

[disappointingyet]

Two For The Road

Director Stanley Donen Stars Audrey Hepburn, Albert Finney, Eleanor Bron, William Daniels  UK/USA 1967 Language English, French, Italian 1hr 51mins Colour

Surprisingly enjoyable snapshots of a relationship going from carefree fun to stuck-in-a-marriage agony

Joanna (Audrey Hepburn) and Mark (Albert Finney) are a well-off but very unhappy English couple about to catch the air ferry* to France. Their plane flies over a sea ferry on which Joanna and Mark are about to meet for the first time – as we’ll see repeatedly, he thinks he lost his passport and she knows where it is. 

That version of J&M will also cross paths with a recently wed version travelling in a station wagon with his American ex (Eleanor Bron), her numbers-obsessed husband (William Daniels) and their spollt daughter. Then there are two more iterations as they move from being broke but mostly happy to well-off but constantly sniping at each other. 

In a way, Two For The Road foreshadows One Day, (500) Days Of Summer and the Before trilogy as we catch up with the state of a relationship by checking for a few days at a time, but until any of those we’re constantly returning to each of the timelines. It’s very deftly done – we can clock where they are by the form of transport they’re in (from hitchhiking to a Mercedes), the changing styles of Joanna’s hair (Mark’s stays the same) and how much they like each other at that point. 

There are two obvious paths for this: one – which Finney’s performance rather leans into – is that this marriage has turned fully toxic and they are only doing damage to each other by staying together. The other is one of those stories where it’s clear that these two crazy kids will remember who they were before the grind of adult life got in the way and joyously reconcile. But the film takes the tricky middle ground – giving us plenty of harsh moments and bad behaviour on both sides at the same time as showing us when it was truly fun.

I say both sides, but although Joanna is not blameless, Mark is more of the problem. He’s an architect, a profession that as so often in the movies is shorthand for obsessive and arrogant. And when they first meet, she’s not even the member of her all-female choir that he’s after – that’s Jackie (Jacqueline Bisset) (honestly, fair enough.) There’s an asymmetry there from that start that continues. (Incidentally, in real life Hepburn was seven years older than Finney, though was often cast in parts younger than her age, as here.)

All of which makes the tonal balance director Stanley Donen manages very impressive. The film manages to skip along while not shying away from nasty arguments. I guess helps that we’re on holiday with the characters all the time, it’s all sundrenched and touristy France even when things are otherwise grim. From the start I felt happy to be with this pair even though they are not happy together.**

Two For The Road is a 1967 European-set film made by a veteran Hollywood director – it could feel either try-hard hip or hopelessly old-fashioned. I think it’s neither. It looks properly great, plenty of good location shooting (which also meant that much of the dialogue has clearly been replaced during editing, but that’s OK.) I would say it’s lightly post-Godard – more free-wheeling than traditional American movie making but never near to a cringeworthy level. The most obvious sign of the times are the great-but-kind-of-batshit clothes and sunglasses Joanna wears in the latest of the timelines.***

If you’re after something that could only be 1967, then I’d refer you to the other film Donen had out that year – the Peter Cook/Dudley Moore faustian comedy Bedazzled, particularly the unbeatable scene with the title song.  

I first watched this film a long, long time ago and had remembered liking it. Recently, it had sat on my list of movies to revisit for a while before I was prompted to watch by the episode about Donen in the Old Man Is Still Alive series of Karina Longworth’s (mighty) You Must Remember This podcast. Coming back to Two For The Road, I was anticipating I would find it grim but interesting. It turns out I found it enjoyable and actually better than I remembered. 

*An air ferry, you might be asking? You used to be able to pop your car in the hold of a passenger plane in Kent and nip over to France. The film takes place near the end of when those services operated – my guess is that they were killed off by the introduction of cross-channel hovercraft. 

**Maybe it’s because I’m not married that I can freely enjoy movies like this or Journey to Italy  or Before Midnight (yes, I know Jesse and Celine are not married but you know what I mean). ***Oh, and also the fact that Mark's rich patrons have phones that can be plugged into the sockets that they seem to have everywhere in their house and out on the terrace.

[citrusmeadowrosegarden]

Valentina lived in a magnificent estate, a sprawling haven that her family called home. This charming residence, adorned with a harmonious mix of modern architecture and vintage accents, was nestled beside the lively Playtime Co. factory, where the hum of industry blended with the laughter of nearby children. Surrounding the estate were meticulously manicured gardens, bursting with vibrant blooms and lush greenery, creating the perfect backdrop for endless explorations and imaginative adventures. In their younger days, Valentina and her spirited twin brother spent countless afternoons at the Rainbow Friends Play Place, a delightful locale alive with color and joy. It was a place where their adventures intertwined with those of their close friends, Hayleigh and Bron, filling the air with echoes of laughter and excitement. However, as the seasons changed and they matured, their focus shifted towards urban exploration. They became captivated by the allure of the forgotten, venturing boldly into abandoned buildings and derelict structures. Each outing revealed hidden gems and curious artifacts which they eagerly collected, treasures laden with stories of bygone eras. At school, Valentina's life took a fascinating turn in the bustling hallways when she met EN, a charming individual whose quick wit sparked her interest. Their initial conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with shared laughter and intriguing exchanges that ignited a connection. This chemistry blossomed into the idea of a dinner date, where they could savor delectable dishes and delve deeper into each other’s lives. The promise of what could evolve from this budding friendship lingered tantalizingly in the air. After graduation, the four friends—Valentina, EN, Hayleigh, and Bron—attended a splendid masquerade ball. The venue glittered with the brilliance of grand chandeliers, casting a warm glow over the joy-filled atmosphere. The air was electric with energy as they dove headfirst into the vibrant festivities, where laughter danced harmoniously with the enchanting waltz played by a skilled string quartet. Each member of the group wore exquisite costumes—Valentina and her friends donned breathtaking masks adorned with intricate feathers and shimmering sequins, while EN stood out handsomely in a classic tailcoat, his jeweled mask glinting mischievously in the soft light. As they mingled among a sea of elegantly dressed guests, their excitement surged amidst the whirlwind of colors and rich fabrics that surrounded them. Glistening gowns sparkled like constellations, commanding attention alongside sharply tailored suits that exuded sophistication. Together, they exchanged witty banter and thrilling stories, fully immersing themselves in the enchanting atmosphere of the night. Their hearts soared as they danced joyfully, celebrating the camaraderie and electric energy that defined their memorable evening. However, the next morning took an unexpected turn when Valentina started her shift at a luxurious hotel as a receptionist. During a routine moment, she overheard a peculiar sound coming from a nearby colleague. When she approached to investigate, she was suddenly enveloped in shadows, transforming her into a shadowy figure herself. Panicked, she dashed to the rainbow Friends Play Place., only to find her twin brother had transformed into a camouflage rainbow friend. Upon arriving back at their estate, they discovered their home eerily quiet. Their uncle, with a mysterious glint in his eye, informed them that their parents had gone on vacation. In reality, however, they’d been turned into toys, lost in a world beyond Valentina's comprehension. As she woke up from this bizarre dream, her heart raced. She immediately rushed to her friends’ house, only to find them living together blissfully, surrounded by ten children—five spirited boys and five lively girls—each echoing the laughter and joy that once filled their lives.