#samoan characters

[thedisabilitybookarchive]

'Scar of the Bamboo Leaf'- A. M., Sieni

Disability Rep: Chronic Limp as a result of Limb Difference, Scarring

Genre: Romance, Contemporary

Age: Young Adult

Setting: Samoa

Additional Rep: Samoan MC, POC, F/M

For more information on summaries, content warnings and additional tropes, see here:

[bijouxcarys]

𝑻𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑩𝒊𝒏𝒅 ~ 𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

Main Masterlist

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘕𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘝𝘰𝘭𝘬𝘰𝘷, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘕𝘦𝘸 𝘠𝘰𝘳𝘬'𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘴𝘴, 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘢𝘭. 𝘈𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘶. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘙𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘙𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘴, 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦… 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵.

𝘈 𝘙𝘖𝘔𝘈𝘕 𝘙𝘌𝘐𝘎𝘕𝘚 𝘈𝘜. 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞. 𝘝𝘐𝘖𝘓𝘌𝘕𝘊𝘌 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘚𝘌𝘟.

𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘌𝘙 𝘋𝘐𝘚𝘊𝘙𝘌𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕 𝘐𝘚 𝘈𝘋𝘝𝘐𝘚𝘌𝘋.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

𝘗𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵:

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴:

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘦

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘸𝘰

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘹

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘦

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘦𝘯

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵��𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘹𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺

[xoxorealitygalore]

Nasty Dancer IV

Summary: Due to her unyielding confidence, Aphrodite earns her spot on the main roster, becoming The Bloodline's manager — or rather, Sefa's Special Counsel. His Wisewoman. But can she maintain her bold, unapologetic style when faced with her greatest challenge yet: working alongside her ex-boyfriend?

Taglist: @xbriexx @christinabae

Previous: Chapter Three

noitsreallyaphrodite ✓

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noitsreallyaphrodite A wise girl knows her limits, a smart girl knows that she has none 🖤

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Aphrodite made her way through the buzzing parking lot of Pechanga Arena in San Diego, the sounds of engines revving and fans chattering filling the air.

Tonight, Friday Night SmackDown would be filmed, and despite not making her main roster debut just yet, she’d been asked to show up. A part of her, though cautious and reserved, felt a spark of excitement. Her boots clicked against the pavement as she navigated through the crowd, her black leather jacket catching the light with each step. The energy of the arena loomed before her, alive with the promise of the night’s events.

She had a purpose here, though. Aphrodite wasn’t just another face in the crowd—she was a professional, here to work. Her role tonight wasn’t a grand one, but it was crucial. She had to film some exchanges with Jacob, Alipate, and Joseph, the latter being a figure that still seemed to hover over her emotions like an unresolved storm. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of him. She hadn’t seen him in days, and even though their relationship had been nothing short of chaotic, his presence was still like a tug on the strings of her memory.

Aphrodite pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on her steps as she entered the arena. The air smelled of anticipation, sweat and excitement. As she walked through the corridors, she could hear the sound of voices echoing, conversations buzzing from behind doors, and the faint sounds of laughter and distant music. She didn’t linger on any of it. Her eyes were set on her destination—the women’s locker room.

But just as she neared the hallway leading to it, a familiar voice cut through the noise, followed by a figure emerging from the shadows. Joseph. Aphrodite felt a jolt, a sudden surge of emotion threatening to break through her calm exterior. She stopped in her tracks, her gaze falling on him. He stood there, a bouquet of roses in his hands, his expression an odd mix of hope and regret. The sight of him, the gesture—so typical of his attempts to mend things—struck something deep inside her.

Joseph was always trying. Always apologizing. Always reaching out when it was too late. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, the regret etched into his face as he extended the bouquet towards her. For a split second, Aphrodite’s heart fluttered with a forgotten warmth, but it was quickly doused by the cold reality of their fractured relationship. The anger she’d worked so hard to suppress bubbled to the surface.

Without a word, she scoffed and tossed the bouquet into the nearest trash can. The roses made a soft thud as they hit the bottom, their vibrant red petals contrasting sharply against the black plastic bag in the trash can. Joseph's eyes flickered toward the trash can, his jaw tightening. His hands shook slightly as he took a step back, clearly frustrated but trying to hold it together.

"I'm trying to apologize for everything," Joseph said, his voice low, vulnerable.

Aphrodite crossed her arms, narrowing her gaze. "I don't need your apology, Joseph. I'm here to work, so leave all that shit in the past and focus."

The words hung between them, a suffocating weight. Joseph exhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling as though he'd been holding his breath for far too long. His next words were hesitant, laced with an emotion that felt raw, too honest.

"Just tell me why you didn’t tell me you were pregnant." His eyes locked onto hers, and there was a plea in them—a desperate need for closure.

Aphrodite blinked, the question hanging in the air like a sharp knife, cutting through the distance they’d spent so long building. Her mind flashed back to that time—the whirlwind of emotions, the sense of loss. She hadn’t wanted to burden him, hadn’t wanted to force him into a position where he’d feel obligated to be there. But hearing his question, she realized he needed an answer. Maybe, just maybe, it would give them both the closure they so desperately needed.

"It happened so fast, Joseph," she said, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside her. "One minute I was finding out I was pregnant, then the next minute I was losing our baby. I didn’t even think you would care, to be honest."

Her words seemed to resonate with him, the tension in his posture relaxing, if only a little. There was silence for a moment—an uncomfortable, heavy silence. But then, Joseph spoke again, and this time, there was an intensity to his voice that made Aphrodite’s heart ache.

"You’re wrong," he said, the words edged with frustration and regret. "I would care, I would have cared, Affie. I would have been there for you. Look what it did to you. You have nothing but anger towards me."

Aphrodite’s stomach clenched at the sound of her name. The familiar nickname, one that used to feel so warm coming from his lips, now felt like a reminder of everything they had lost. Her chest tightened as his words sank in, and she felt the rawness of the past rush in. The hurt, the anger, the confusion—it was all there, lingering in the background.

"I just—" Joseph’s voice faltered for a moment before he continued, his tone quieter now. "I deserved to know."

Aphrodite sighed, the weight of the conversation pressing down on her. The old wounds that she had buried deep inside her were starting to surface again. But maybe, just maybe, this conversation was necessary for both of them. To move forward, they needed this moment.

"Okay, I’m sorry for not telling you," she said finally, her voice tinged with a quiet sincerity she hadn’t known she was capable of. "Are we good?"

Joseph’s eyes softened, and for a brief moment, Aphrodite saw the man she had once loved. The one who had tried so hard, even when it was too late. He nodded slowly. "Yeah. We’re good."

And with that, Aphrodite turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Joseph standing there in the hallway, lost in thought. She could feel his gaze lingering on her back, but she refused to look back. This chapter of their lives, as painful as it had been, was finally over. She had come here to work, and that was what she would do.

When Aphrodite stepped into the women’s locker room, she was greeted with the familiar sound of laughter. Trinity and Pamela were chatting animatedly, their voices a comforting backdrop to the tension still hanging in the air. As soon as they spotted her, their faces lit up with excitement, and before she knew it, they were pulling her into a hug. Aphrodite couldn’t help but smile, the warmth of their friendship pushing away the remnants of her earlier conversation with Joseph.

"Girl, you’ve got to stop treating my brother-in-law like that," Trinity said, pulling back from the hug with a playful but serious look in her eyes. "He’s trying so hard to get you to like him again."

Aphrodite rolled her eyes, though there was no real heat behind the gesture. "Why is he trying so hard?" she asked, arching a brow. "Is it genuine, or does he feel guilty?"

Trinity grinned, clearly amused. "It’s genuine," she said with a wink before biting her lip as if debating whether to say more. "Look, Sefa still loves you. He never stopped. That’s why his other relationship didn’t work out. You were and still are on his mind, Dottie."

Aphrodite froze, her breath catching in her throat. "What?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Are you serious?"

Pamela, who had been quiet until then, nodded in agreement. "It’s obvious, do you not see it?"

Aphrodite shook her head, feeling a rush of disbelief. This wasn’t the conversation she had expected. The idea that he still had feelings for her was foreign, almost laughable.

Before she could respond, Bianca walked over, joining the conversation. "What are we talking about?" she asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Sefa still being in love with Dottie," Pamela answered with a smirk.

Bianca’s eyes widened, and she nodded knowingly. "Oh, girl, yup, he is still in love with you," she said, the words almost making Aphrodite laugh. "Matter of fact, he’s outside on the verge of tears over you throwing those flowers in the trash. Got the guys comforting him."

Aphrodite’s mouth fell open in disbelief. "No, he ain’t," she said, her voice disbelieving.

"Yes," Bianca insisted, taking Aphrodite’s hand and leading her out of the locker room. "Come on, I’ll show you."

As they rounded the corner, Aphrodite’s eyes fell on the scene outside—a group of men huddled together. Jonathan, Joseph’s older brother, was standing with a hand on Joseph’s shoulder, trying to comfort him. Jacob and Alipate were close by, looking awkward as they exchanged glances. Montez stood nearby, his arms crossed, clearly unsure of how to navigate the situation.

“She threw them in the trash like she could have at least done it after she walked away, but she did it in my face,” Joseph ranted, his voice full of frustration and hurt.

Aphrodite smacked her lips and let out an exasperated sigh. "Oh my God, Joseph," she muttered under her breath. She couldn’t help but shake her head. The situation, as ridiculous as it was, left her feeling both amused and exhausted.

But no matter how much she wanted to laugh it off, there was a part of her—deep inside—that felt the stirrings of something she hadn’t expected. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to the story than she had realized.

Aphrodite stood there, her eyes narrowing as she watched Joseph rant, his frustration evident in the way his fists clenched at his sides. His brother, cousin, and friends tried to calm him, but it was clear that his heart had taken a blow. She couldn’t help but feel a strange mixture of guilt and amusement. She had been angry—rightfully so—but part of her still cared, and seeing Joseph like this made that part stir uncomfortably.

“Joseph, calm down,” Jonathan said, his deep voice cutting through the tension. He placed a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, but it seemed to do little to ease the storm within him.

“I’m fine, Jon,” Joseph snapped, though his voice cracked slightly, betraying his emotions. “It’s just—everything’s just so damn complicated. She could’ve at least had the decency to walk away before tossing those flowers in the trash like I was some kind of joke.” His voice wavered again, the anger and hurt mixing with vulnerability.

Aphrodite felt the heat of his words, though she knew she had the right to act as she had. There were too many things between them—too much history, too many broken promises, too much pain for a simple bouquet to erase. Yet here they were, Joseph, standing there like he was genuinely torn up by the gesture.

Aphrodite’s lips pressed together in a thin line, and she forced herself to step into the scene. Bianca, noticing her approach, gave her a pointed look, as if urging her to step in before this spiral continued.

Aphrodite didn’t want to engage, but she knew she couldn’t just stand there watching Joseph fall apart. She hadn’t come here for this. She hadn’t come here to be wrapped up in the mess they’d left behind.

“Joseph,” she called, her voice firm but not unkind. The group of men froze as her voice cut through the tension. All eyes turned to her, and she could feel the weight of their gazes. Joseph’s eyes softened when he saw her, a brief flicker of something—hope, pain, regret—passing over his face.

She took a step forward, ignoring the way her stomach tightened with the familiar pull of old emotions. “You want me to be honest with you?” she asked, her voice quiet but unwavering. “I threw the flowers away because they felt like another attempt at making everything okay. And it’s not. Not yet. Not after everything. You can’t just waltz in here with roses and expect me to forget everything.”

Joseph's expression faltered, and the corner of his mouth twitched, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. His chest heaved with the weight of his emotions. “I’m not trying to make everything okay,” he finally said, the rawness in his voice shocking her. “I just… I just wanted you to know I’m sorry, Affie. For everything.”

The mention of her old nickname again struck her like a wave crashing against jagged rocks. “Don’t call me that,” she said, her voice low and sharp. She hadn’t been called Affie in so long, and it made her feel like the girl who had trusted him all those years ago. The girl who had been heartbroken when things fell apart between them.

Joseph swallowed, his throat bobbing with the effort of trying to maintain some composure. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “I can’t undo the past. I can’t fix it, but I need you to know that I’m sorry. I should’ve been there for you, especially when you needed me.”

Aphrodite stared at him for a long moment, the silence between them thick and suffocating. She hadn’t expected him to be so vulnerable, so raw. There was no denying the pain in his eyes, but it was hard for her to accept. To trust that the apology wasn’t just another fleeting gesture.

Finally, she spoke, her voice softer but still guarded. “I don’t need you to fix it, Joseph. I just need you to let it go. Let me go. I’m here to work, and that’s all I’m going to focus on.” Her eyes flicked toward the arena in the distance, the hum of activity behind the walls reminding her of why she was here. “This,” she gestured between them, “this is not my focus anymore.”

Joseph looked at her, his jaw tight, as if trying to hold onto something that was slipping away faster than he could grasp it. She could see the conflict in his eyes—the desire to hold onto the past, to hold onto her—but she wasn’t the same person she had been when they were together. She wasn’t that girl who had begged for his attention, who had desperately wanted him to choose her.

Aphrodite took a deep breath, mentally steeling herself for what needed to happen next. “So, I’m going to walk away now, Joseph. But don’t think for a second that I don’t see the effort you’re making. You don’t need to keep trying to fix what we had. We’re past that.” She let the words settle between them before she turned, her back to him, and walked away.

The silence lingered long after she had left the scene, and she could feel the weight of his gaze still heavy on her, even as she distanced herself from it all.

[islandtarochips]

Call of Duty OC: Tiala “Malie” Toa🦈

Commission Art done by @temeyes 🔼

A young female First Sergeant, who joined the U.S. Marines Corps to honor her older brother’s name. Who sadly passed away from one of the toughest missions. Working long and hard to save civilians from being captive by terrorists or any dangerous enemies. She’s the woman who would get the job done.

UNIVERSE: Modern Warfare 2/Modern Warfare 3

General:

🦈 Name: Tiala Toa 🦈 Alias(es): 

Tiala

Tia

Ala (her family and closed friends called her that)

Toa

Malie

Lie (lee-eh)

Shark

First Sergeant/Sergeant Toa

First Sergeant/Sergeant Malie

First Sergeant/Sergeant T (Only her team or closed friends are allowed to call her that)

Sharky (Only close friends can call her that)

Alpha 5-0

🦈 Gender: Female 🦈 Age: 24 (MW2), 25 (MW3) 🦈 Birthday: November 19th, 1997 🦈 Nationality: United State National (American Samoa) 🦈 Place of Birth: American Samoa 🦈 Home: Kahaluu, Hawaii (Moved there to where the base are at) 🦈 Spoken Languages: English, Samoan (Native), Spanish (Learning) 🦈 Sexuality: Heterosexual 🦈 Occupation:

First Sergeant of the Marine Corps

Second-in-Command of the Warriors Task Force

Sniper

Appearance:

🦈 Eye Color: Dark Brown 🦈 Hair Color: Black 🦈 Height: 5’7”/170 cm 🦈 Scars: 

Wounds: Bullet wounds on her right shoulder where her burnt scar was at (caused by Callie Graves), even on her left hip (caused by one of the Shadow Company members)

Scars: Full burnt scar on her right arm where her tattoos were at (caused by the enemies who she got kidnapped), some small scars on her left arm (suicidal while being kidnapped)

🦈 Face Claim: Auli'i Cravalho

Favorites:

🦈 Color: Ocean Blue 🦈 Food: Samoan Oka and Hawaiian Poke 🦈 Drink: Water 🦈 Flower: Red Hibiscus 🦈 Hairstyle: Braided (during work time) and either putting her up in a bun or hair down (out of work)

Affiliation:

Warriors Task Force:

- General Alana Kalani

- Captain Kanoa Toa

- Sergeant Agnes “Blast” Falagi

- Dr. Aelan Kalani

- Sergeant Nigel “Squirrel” Harrison

- Tama Nikau

- Special Officer Emma Tabua

Specters/Team Charlie: ( @deeptrashwitch )

- Captain Alicia “Origin” Marchant

- Lieutenant Luke “Harlem” Michaelis

- Sergeant Jackson “Doc” Blackwell

- Sergeant Edward “Eager” Jackson

- Corporal Noah “Cobalto” Garcia

Mexican Special Forces/Los Vaqueros:

- Colonel Alejandro Vargas

- Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra

- Special Officer Alyssa Martinez ( @alypink )

Task Force 141:

- Captain John Price

- Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley

- Sergeant John “Soap” MacTavish

- Sergeant Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

- Charlotte “Jade” Le Jardin ( @sleepyconfusedpotato )

- Sergeant Major Hannah “Sparrow” Clayton ( @revnah1406 )

- Sergeant Annabelle “Kit” Pham ( @applbottmjeens and later joined in the Shadow Company)

Para Special Forces: ( @welldonekhushi )

- Captain Arjun

- Sergeant Aditya Tripathi

- Staff Sergeant Yuvraj Chaudhary

Shadow Company:

- Annabelle “Kit” Pham ( @applbottmjeens )

Second Commando Regiment: ( @kaitaiga )

- Captain Lachlan Jones

- Sergeant Damien Whitlock

CIA:

- Station Chief Kate Laswell

Personality:

🦈 Myers Briggs Type: ISTJ If you want the job done right away. Tiala is there to finish it. Whatever task that you have she’ll do it even if it’s small. She just wants to assist to make things easier for her friends and comrades (if you're trustful enough for her).

🦈 Strict but Caring: Just like her father, who used to be in the military, she is very strict when it comes to training. Making sure that the recruits are not just lacking or sitting around. She made sure they DO things. But she is very caring for her comrades. You can say it's called "Tough Love" (learned that from her parents).

🦈 Judgmental: Tiala had a habit of judging people at first glance. Of course, she doesn’t show it when meeting someone during work hours. But OUT of work? She’ll just give you that look. The look that says it all.

🦈 Stubborn: Tiala is usually a stubborn gal. She doesn’t usually ask for help. It was really concerning for others to see her working by herself very hard without any assistance. But if you’re a close friend with her. She’ll reconsider.

🦈 Reluctant: There are times that Tiala will hesitate when it comes to deal with people who has families. Should understand she has her OWN family back at home. So that will hold her back at times. 

🦈 Bad Driving Skills: She doesn’t have a very BAD driving skills. She can drive nicely! BUT. When it comes to the situation that someone is rushing her or annoys her WHILE driving. She’ll just swerve the car a bit. As long as you let her focus on driving then everything will be alright. Just be silenced and enjoy the ride😊 (And she had a driver’s license)

Skills and Abilities:

🦈 Fighting Style: Hand-to-Hand Combat, Martial Arts and Boxing

🦈 Weapons: Mk 13 rifle, M4A1 and Benelli M4

🦈 Distinct Weapon: Gerber Gear Knife and Glock G43X

🦈 Special Skills:

Sharpshooter: A very skillful sniper who can take down any targets. From near and far.

Swimming: I know most people can swim but for Tiala. She can swim and goes down under water for over 20 minutes. How deep? About 50ft down.

Planning: She always has great plans to succeed in their missions. Even have a backup plan in case. If you need someone to plan ahead for any special occasions. Tiala is the woman you need.

Family:

Nakoa Toa (Father, Alive)

Elei Afoa Toa (Mother, Alive)

Hōne Toa (1st Eldest Brother, Deceased)

Sami Toa (2nd Eldest Brother, Alive)

Serah Johnson Toa (Sister-in-Law, Sami’s Wife, Alive)

Penny Toa (Niece, Sami’s eldest daughter, Alive)

Dinah Toa (Niece, Sami’s baby daughter, Alive)

Rangi Toa (3rd Eldest Brother, Alive)

Kanoa Toa (4th Eldest Brother, Alive)

Hemi Toa (5th Youngest Brother, Alive)

Iosefa Toa (4th Youngest Brother, Alive)

Tamah Toa (3rd Youngest Brother, Alive)

Fetu Fetuao Toa (2nd Youngest Brother, Alive)

Iona and Kiona Toa (Youngest Brother, Twins, Alive)

Pets:

Fin (Tiala’s Kitten, Alive)

Teine (Kanoa’s dog, Alive)

Unnamed Dog (Sami’s Dog, Alive)

Unnamed Puppy (Tamah’s Puppy, Alive)

Maliu (Tiala’s Cat, Alive)

Trivia:

🦈 Tiala’s last name, Toa. Means ‘Warriors’ in Samoan. So you could see that these families REALLY represented their names. By joining the military. 🦈 Love Sharks and the oceans. She secretly has a shark plushie back at home (Kanoa got that for her). 🦈 HATES the cold. It always makes her nose runny and needs a lair of coats and scarfs to keep her warm. 🦈 Heat doesn’t bother her. Even wearing long sleeves and putting her hair down under the heated weather. She lives in a "Tropical Island". What do you expect?

Background Story: (WARNING: Might mention about Sexual Abuse and Kidnapping)

In American Samoa on November 19th, 1997. Tiala was born. And she was the youngest one in the family.

After two years of Tiala being born, her older brother (Hōne) had left to the Marine but he would always come back home to spend time with his family.

When Tiala turned 16-years-old, it was her birthday. She had received very sad news from Kanoa. Kanoa came back from the Marines to tell them the news that Hōne had sadly passed away from the mission that he was sent to. Which really upset Tiala. She could feel her heart was crying out for her dearly older brother. For he had promised that he’ll come back home on her special day. So she hadn’t celebrated her birthday much since then.

During her Sophomore Year in High School, she was still 16. Tiala had a crush on a boy who was part of the football team. And she was trying to ask him out before their Christmas break. And to her excitement, he accepted. She had thought that she had found love in her life. But little did she know that her happy love life would turn out dark.

After the summer break, Tiala is a Junior in High School. Her boyfriend has been acting pretty touchy lately. NOT in a good way though. More like touching the part that she doesn’t want him to touch. Which made him upset. And she doesn’t want him to be upset. So she let him have his fun.

Until the year of her being a Senior, her boyfriend had been getting a bit more possessive than being lovely. And it worried her that she needed to talk with her family. But that’s when he pulls the threats on her if she EVER tells anyone about this. She hesitated and didn’t tell anyone. Except that her little brother, named Hemi, saw what her boyfriend was doing in the back of the school. Hemi was being sent by their parents to check on Tiala that they’re there to pick her up. He was going to tell their parents but Tiala begged him not to. So he just gave in and didn’t tell their parents.

And on the night of the Senior Prom. The school let the Senior students bring some of their family members to join in this special occasion. So Tiala happily invited her parents and some of her brothers. Which is only Rangi, Kanoa and Hemi. The night was going so well until Tiala’s boyfriend wanted to take her away from the party so they could have their “FUN” which she doesn’t want to. And that’s when he started to get very pushy at it. Which caught Hemi’s attention to see his older sister being pulled away. So calling the two older brothers. Kanoa and Rangi quickly came in and took Tiala back before warning the boyfriend to stay away. Soon the whole crowd’s attention was on them as the boyfriend was getting pissed off. Starting to yell at Tiala and blaming her for being such a boring kind of partner. And that’s when he confessed that he cheated on her with another girl. Which fueled Kanoa’s anger but instead of HIM beating the boyfriend up. Everyone was surprised to see Hemi ran in and tackled him down. Beating him up instead. One of the teachers pulled the two boys away and ended the party.

(Everyone was alright. Just Hemi’s knuckles were being bruised up and he was 11-years-old! Can you believe that?)

After graduation, Tiala had started to plan on joining the Marine Corps with her two brothers. To honor for Hōne. So they started packing and the two older boys took her to Hawaii. Where the camping of the Marine soldiers will be at. She had worked long and hard to finish her test and training. Which was worth it for she had passed all of it. And the two older brothers were very proud. She was 17-years-old when she joined.

So Tiala had taken the position as Staff Sergeant after serving for 4 years and she had made quite a few friends. But her two main friends who she had met are Staff Sergeant Ela Anand and Master Sergeant Herman Black. The two had always made her feel so welcoming ever since she joined in. And the three had been picked by an unnamed Colonel who needed soldiers to help assist to stop the human trafficking. And he did warn them about how dangerous this could be. The three friends were excited for this mission but Tiala’s older brother, Rangi, disapproved of this. He had his concerns for her as this was her FIRST mission and were afraid that something bad might happen. Kanoa had reassured Rangi that she’ll be fine. He will go with her to keep her safe. Tiala agreed with this term even the Colonel agreed as well.

They have traveled to Baja California. The borderline of part Mexico. The team had gotten an intel about Human Trafficking in that area. They have believed that the Drug Cartel is making deals with the other Trafficker who was doing Human Trafficking. So they have to act fast to stop them. The Colonel had already made orders to separate two different teams. Which Tiala is going with Ela and Herman and the others. But Kanoa cannot go as he is going with the Colonel and the other teams. Tiala had reassured her older brother that she’ll be fine since she’s going with her two friends. The two different teams had already split up as they went to look for the Cartel. But Tiala and her team have been ambushed and kidnapped by them. This was in May 2017.

3 months later. Tiala and her two friends are the only ones who are still alive. They don’t know what these cartel people do to their other team members but they have to stay strong and hope that the other marines will come to their rescue. But after a few weeks, Tiala had seen Herman had been dragged out of his cell first and was being pushed by the men. She doesn’t know what they’ll do to him. But her question has been answered by the sound of guns shooting and some people screaming. Her eyes widened at this and felt Ela hugging her and trying to comfort her. They need to get out of here and FAST.

At the very last week of the month, Ela had already had a plan to escape. And Tiala agreed to go through it. The two had already escaped from their cell and put down most of the enemies who were blocking them. And all they have to do is to go over the wall. Ela wanted Tiala to go first and was about to boost her up before being shot. Tiala was devastated and shocked as she saw her only friend had died in her own blood. She was taken back and was dealing with her PUNISHMENT. Which you will know of how she got her burnt scar on her tattoos. And already losing her virginity.

2 months later, Tiala was slowly losing her emotions and her insanity as she kept working for those bastards. As they were having their fun. And today was her last day to be living in this cruel world. FINALLY. Before they could even take her, there was a sudden shooting in the area. And even BIG explosions. Who could it be?

It was the Marines. And her brother Kanoa was the one who was leading and had found her. So he took Tiala quickly to the medical area back to the base. October 2017.

Tiala was released from the Marines just to let her rest and hopefully recovered both mentally and physically. She wasn’t the same from then. She didn’t want any of her brothers or her father to come near her. Even though they are her family she couldn’t get the images about those MEN out of her head. Every time they come near. She’ll scream or flinched when they are present. Which really hurts their hearts.

It’s been 2 months that Tiala has to recover and still didn’t let any of her brothers or her father come near. Until, Kanoa had an idea. While Tiala was just resting on her bed, looking through the window. She suddenly hears someone singing outside of her room. So curiously, she slowly walked out of her room and into the living room before seeing Kanoa was playing the guitar while singing their favorite church song. Called “A Pei Se Vaitafe” (Like a River). And she slowly walked over to Kanoa as memories flowed through her mind of how Hōne used to sing that song to her. And sat down next to him as she softly sang along with him. Her whole family slowly peeked in to see this and was very touched to see Tiala had finally come out to her family.

Before the Summer starts, in the year of 2018. Tiala had come back all fresh and new. For she wanted to continue to serve for her lost friends and brother. And then she heard that Kanoa was making a Task Force. She was also being asked by the General, named Alana and the one who was helping Kanoa to form a team for his Task Force, if she wanted to join. So she didn’t hesitate to take it and was placed in to be Kanoa’s Second-in-Command. That’s when she met the other two new members of the team. Sergeant Agnes “Blast” Falagi and Dr. Aelan Kalani. The two soldiers who were the one who helped Kanoa to save her. And she had given her thanks and accepted them into their new team.

MOOD BOARD

More of Tiala "Shark" Toa posts

[matchbet-allofthetime]

Mauga makes me so happy

Like he's Samoan- and he is COVERED chest and arms with tatau! It's intricate, beautiful tatau that are so tenderly designed and I just- *melting*

AWASUGH and he's so pretty?? And playful and his teefies are so cute ohmyfuckinggod

He's also against the law, which is fucking brilliant as part of a minority group (which I think should be talked about more, bc that's so realistic and I love it! Meaningful little addition in my mind)

Anyways I'm not normal about him but I don't think anyone should be

[cardinal-island]

Mauga

[nogetron]

Maui, the great Polynesian hero. Maui was birthed stillborn, his mother distraught and in grief, wrapped her child in her hair and cast him into the ocean. Instead of drowning him in the abyss, the ocean cradled Maui and breathed life into him, granting him the status of demigod. The ocean carried Maui until he was found by a great chieftain who was able to deliver him to his mother safely. Maui was the youngest of five brothers, due to Maui’s stillbirth he was smaller and thinner than his brothers. Maui’s brothers refused to let him fish with them, even after Maui managed to sneak onto their canoe they still refused to let him bait his hook. In response Maui baited the hook with his blood and threw it out into the water. Each of Maui’s catches pulled the land of the earth from the depths of the sea, much to the astonishment of his brothers. Maui performed many more feats of greatness, like pulling the sun, stealing fire from the underworld, creating coconuts, lifting the sky and making birds visible.

Maui is celebrated as a hero among a vast amount of Polynesian peoples, such as the Māori, Hawaiians, Tongans along with many others. Among the Samoans, Maui was called Tiʻitiʻi, though some posit that they’re separate. Maui’s most popular myth is of his lifting of the land, this myth is nigh universal in Maui’s many depictions and is seen as his greatest achievement. Like many other culture heroes, Maui was seen as a trickster. It’s theorized that the archetype of the trickster exists both as a comparison between right and wrong and as a way to challenge the traditional cultural norms and values. His status as a trickster links him to many other beings, such as the African Anansi, the Irish Lugh, and the Native American Nanabozho and Coyote.

[theartsyjuicebox]

Research for a tattoo my friend wanted (result below)

[ronnyraygun]

I could not tell you why I like Buzz so much. He’s just??? So??? Idek!!! Y’know?

[xanderxciv]

The Yin Zodiacs: The Whale Zodiac, rival to the Pig.

[nicos-oc-hell]

Fankids appreciation week: Day 6- football team

Fell asleep before I posted this yesterday

Most of the ppl on here are related and then Xanxus was the leftover oc (no offense). Jason is the son of Ayas, the father of Viktor, the grandfather of Jr, Pietro and Anatoly. Xanxus is one Dimitri’s children and he’s the youngest.

Jason owns a magical creatures sanctuary, he and his best friend, Israel, take in injured creatures and nurse them back to health. After that it’s up to the creatures if they want to leave or not.

Viktor Sr grew up in Egypt with his maternal grandparents before he moved to Scotland so he could attend Hogwarts and actually remember meeting his paternal grandparents. During Hogwarts his best friends had joined the death eaters so he did too, like maybe 5-6 years into it they all eventually deflected and became spies. He now teaches Alchemy at Hogwarts to the students who choose to take it during the 6th and 7th years (the potions professor is an ex death eater, the alchemy professor is an ex death eater and the both of them are spies…Dumbledore clearly has a type)

Viktor Jr was a little shit growing up so it was a surprise to everyone when he got into Hufflepuff, all of them forgetting loyalty is the trait of hufflepuff not niceness. His father pissed him off day so on a whim he joined the death eaters with Lucius who was forced to join seeing as Voldy was permanently in his house. Viktor was mainly a lawyer and didn’t do most of the dirty work that came with being a death eater. He is also a vampire.

Pietro is my aroace non-binary (they/them/he/him) vampire baby, their career is really on a three-way fence right now between a chef, a doctor or living off of his inheritance. Unless there is family drama (Anatoly and their father for the most of it) Pietro does not care for their family besides their mother and grandparents. He usually distances himself from them until they specifically ask for him in which he’ll be there but not happily.

Anatoly is a happy baker in New Zealand and crochets in his free time. When he’s not doing one of those two things, he is playing with his sons in the backyard or teaching them how to play board games/card games. And when he’s not doing that, he’s bothering his wife with his countless antics

Xanxus is a little underdeveloped but he’s got a few traits about him so far. You can’t really see it in the picrew above but he is wheelchair bound and has a hearing aid for his left ear from an accident when he was 12. He likes to collect Pokémon games like they are the cards and spends most of his time playing on his pc whenever he’s home for the summer.

Event hosted by @endlessly-cursed

[itsmcp100]

After many redesigns, I think I've finally settled on the final look! Meet Zo' La! Daughter of the Dragon Chief whose name I haven't decided on yet.

Her dragon tribe has tattoos that not only represent their culture, but can also glow whenever they're fired up!🔥🔥🔥 Zo' La likes living on the edge, & wants nothing more than to make her family proud & to protect the people she cares about.

[bijouxcarys]

𝑻𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑩𝒊𝒏𝒅 (𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒔 𝒙 𝑶𝑪) - 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑵𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏

Masterlist

Character Profiles/Face Claims

Playlist

A/N: she's back again. hope you enjoy this one as always, please leave me replies and likes n shit because it helps with the motivation and i love talking to people about it gahhh

CW/TW: light angst, mentions of violence, and Seth Rollins. he needs a warning on his own.

Tags: @empressdede @thetribalqueen @heauxvibez @bigsimperika

@cyberdejos2 @keyaho @headoftheetable @jstarr86 @southerngirl41

@tshepisho @cry1nwhileimcumm1n @maeb99 @thedesireds @dzdndcnfsd

@expert-texpert @niknakbucks92 @sillyteecup @trentybenty @pittieprincess22

@electronicwitchsandwich @thefairywithboots

(If you want to be tagged in any future Roman fics, just let me know!)

Eight years.

Eight. Fucking. Years.

Pushing a decade since Roman Reigns had last seen Seth Rollins. And now, after all that time, he was headed straight for a meeting that felt uncomfortably like stepping into a cage with a venomous animal. A serpent, slick and coiled, lying in wait.

The SUV hummed steadily beneath his hands, the engine a low growl that matched the tension curling in his chest. Beside him, Nate sat with a distant, unreadable expression, her fingers tracing slow, absent-minded circles on the fabric of her jeans. Her usual veneer of sharp, calculated confidence had been replaced by something raw and unpolished—like a blade that had been sharpened too many times and now threatened to snap. The incident with Boris and Alexei ganging up on Katya… and the vicious switch in her father’s disposition during their last encounter. It all shook her—more than she let on. But even now, she carried herself with a quiet intensity that made it clear she wasn’t fragile. Whatever storm churned behind her eyes, it hadn’t broken her.

Behind them, the low murmur of voices from the backseat added a strange counterpoint to the thick silence up front. Jimmy and Jey were mid-banter as usual, the rhythm of their exchange as natural as breathing, while Sami—wedged awkwardly between them—offered occasional nervous laughs. Solo, however, was silent, his presence brooding and heavy, as if he could fill the entire vehicle with his sheer displeasure.

Roman’s gaze flicked to the rearview mirror, catching his enforcer’s watchful eyes. The unspoken tension between them was a steady undercurrent, but Roman chose not to address it. It wasn’t worth it.

Not yet.

“I’m just sayin’, man,” Jimmy piped up, leaning forward with a grin. “Two weeks before Christmas is a hell of a time to be dragging us out like this. You know what I could’ve been doin’ instead?”

“Ain’t no better time for business than now,” Jey replied, nudging his twin. “Half these fools too busy kissin’ under mistletoe to notice what’s really goin’ on.”

Sami chuckled anxiously, his eyes darting over at Nate as if seeking her approval. “I mean… it’s intense, right? Meeting Seth Rollins. The guy is—”

“A snake,” Roman cut in sharply, his voice like a crack of thunder in the confined space. His jaw tightened, and his fingers flexed on the wheel. “Seth’s a snake. Always has been.”

Nate’s lips twitched, a flicker of amusement that didn’t quite form into a smile. She didn’t need to ask for details; Roman had already told her the whole story in his rare moment of unguarded honesty the night of Alexei’s engagement celebration. How Seth’s betrayal had nearly cost him everything—not just regarding business, but his pride.

She could understand that. Hell, she could even empathise. Traitors weren’t just dangerous—they were personal.

“I-I know it’s not my place to ask,” Sami ventured hesitantly, “But… you sure about this, Boss?”

Roman didn’t bother looking at him. His eyes stayed locked on the road, the stretch of asphalt ahead illuminated by the harsh glare of the SUV’s headlights. “We do what we have to,” he said flatly. “If Seth has something we could use, we’re gonna take it. End of story.”

Sami shrank back slightly, his nervous energy radiating like static. Beside Roman, Nate stirred, her voice low enough that only he could hear.

“Before we get there,” she murmured, “A warning.”

Roman arched a brow, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “Oh? You think I need one?”

“I think your pride has a nasty habit of making decisions for you,” she replied evenly, cool but not unkind.

The twins exchanged a glance in the backseat, Jey arching an eyebrow at Jimmy as if to say, “She’s really pushing it, huh?” Sami, ever the peacemaker, tried to lighten the mood with a small chuckle.

“You really know how to keep him on his toes, Nate,” he offered.

Nate didn’t even glance back, her focus fixed on Roman. “Seth’s not here to settle a score,” she continued. “He’s here because his wife’s convinced him to offer information. And you’d better make sure to keep any ego on a leash before you let it get the better of you.”

Roman’s grip on the wheel was almost death-like. But he didn’t snap at her. Not this time. Instead, he just let her comment hang like a taut wire about to break.

Jimmy let out a low whistle, leaning back in his seat. “Man, I ain’t ever seen anyone talk to you like that before, Uce.”

“Shut up,” Roman muttered, though there was no real venom in his voice.

As the SUV slowed to a stop at their destination—a deserted parking lot on the outskirts of the city—Roman scanned the area with a practised eye. The single streetlamp overhead cast long, spidery shadows across the cracked pavement, and the only other vehicle in sight was a dark sedan parked a safe distance away.

Nate was already unbuckling her seatbelt, her movements quick and efficient. “Stay here,” she said without looking at Roman. “I just need to make sure they’re ready for… Uh, well, you.”

Roman’s gaze narrowed, his lips curving into a faint, wolfish grin. “You actin’ like I can’t handle myself, Volkov.”

“I’m acting like someone who knows a shitshow when she sees one,” Nate shot back, her tone edged with just enough sarcasm to make him pause. “Give me five minutes.”

He stared at her for a long moment, the weight of his scrutiny pressing down on her like a physical force. But to her credit, she didn’t flinch.

“Fine,” he said at last, leaning back in his seat with a sigh. “But don’t take too long.”

As Nate stepped out of the SUV, the twins exchanged a look of disbelief.

“You see that?” Jey whispered, elbowing Jimmy. “She’s got him on a leash, man.”

Jimmy grinned, shaking his head. “Ain’t no leash. She’s jus–”

“Enough,” Roman growled, cutting off their laughter with a single word.

But even as he said it, he couldn’t shake the strange sense of unease coiling in his chest. He watched Nate approached the sedan, her silhouette sharp and unyielding against the harsh glow of the streetlamp.

“Man, she’s somethin’ else,” Jey muttered under his breath.

“Yeah,” Jimmy agreed quietly. “But, uh, you think she’s… worth it?”

Roman didn’t answer. Instead, his gaze remained fixed on Nate, his thoughts a tangled web of doubt, frustration, and something dangerously close to admiration.

In the rear end of the car, Solo shifted, his eyes narrowing as he also watched Nate, but with an intensity that bordered on hostility.

“She’s takin’ liberties,” he hummed.

“Yeah?” Roman said, eyeing Solo in the rearview mirror. “You got a problem with that?”

Jaw tightening, Solo refused to reply. The silence that followed was heavy and oppressive—Roman practically felt the heavy tension between them, thick enough to choke on.

Nate adjusted her jacket against the chill of the evening as she stepped out and away from the SUV. She needed this meeting to go well. She knew that there’d have to be some… discussion prior to bringing Roman into the equation, but she wasn’t prepared for just how much the idea of explaining Roman’s involvement to Seth would feel like walking into a minefield.

Seth Rollins wasn’t exactly known for his restraint, and based on what Roman had told her about their history… it wasn’t going to be a friendly reunion.

As she approached them, Becky noticed her and gave a sly smile. She had one arm casually slung around Seth’s shoulders, leaning into him like they were in their own world. Seth, meanwhile, glanced at Nate with open curiosity and mild suspicion.

“You’re finally here,” Becky said. “Thought maybe you’d changed your mind about meeting the second-best architect in New York.”

Nate raised an eyebrow. “Second-best? You finally admitting defeat?”

Becky laughed. “Not a chance.”

Nate’s attention turned to Seth, who studied her carefully. He wasn’t what she expected—not entirely, anyway. His sharp eyes gave him an air of unpredictability, and his grin held a touch of mischief. But there was something grounded about it, too, like he was the only one keeping Becky tethered to reality. And… possibly vice versa.

“And you must be Seth Rollins,” Nate offered a hand. “Thanks for coming. Becky told me… a bit about you.”

Seth clasped her hand, his grip firm but not overbearing. “Yeah, well, Becks tends to leave out the boring parts. So what’s the deal? She said you needed help, but she wasn’t exactly handing out details.”

Nate hesitated. She wasn’t one for oversharing, but there was no avoiding this part. “We’ll get to that,” she said, glancing at Becky for support. “But first… I just need to let you know… something.” She cringed a little at her inability to correctly construct what was sure to be a groundbreaking revelation for both of them. “The other… person I’m working with. It’s… Well, it’s someone you’ve… known before?” Nate clasped her hands together, furrowing her brows at Seth.

Becky immediately straightened, sensing the apprehension in Nate’s voice. “Oh, God, Nate, who?”

Nate looked between them, weighing her words carefully. “Uh… Roman Reigns.”

The reaction was instant. Seth stiffened, his jaw tightening as he pulled his hands up to his head like he’d been burned. “Nope,” he said flatly, stepping back. “I’m out.”

Becky blinked, caught off-guard. “Seth—”

“No way,” he cut her off, pacing a short distance away. “I’m not working with that guy. Are you serious, Becky? You couldn’t warn me about this?”

“I didn’t know either!”

Nate held up a hand, trying to calm him. “Look, I know—”

“No, you don’t know,” Seth interrupted, pointing at her. “That guy? He’s a control freak. Thinks he’s better than everyone else. Hell, he probably still thinks he owns the damn universe.”

“Hang on, that’s not fair,” Nate said curtly, surprising even herself with the edge in her voice. Seth’s eyes snapped to her, but she didn’t hesitate. “Not based on what I’ve been told, anyway.”

“Ohhh of course, he’s told you everything, right?”

“Seth–”

“He’s told you allll about the times he got all the credit, he got all the adulation from everyone we ever came across. And all about the time I was told, I was promised, an out if I took him out!”

“No, he hasn’t told me about the charisma he clearly possesses more than you do, but he definitely told me all about you pulling a gun out on him out of nowhere after years of loyalty,” Nate gritted her teeth, swallowing her words as soon as she said them. 

Seth’s brows angled downward as he glared at Nate. He was already ready to go back into his hole and crack open a beer. But his wife had dragged him here, meaning it had to have been important. But still…

“I’m not getting dragged into whatever ego trip he’s on this time.”

Nate took a steadying breath, reining in her impulse to defend Roman further. She wasn’t here to argue; she was here to get Seth on board. Focus.

“Look,” she said, lowering her voice, “I’m not asking you to be his best friend. I’m asking you to help me. My family could be in danger—my little sister could be in danger. People are already dead because of this, and if we don’t get to the bottom of it, there’ll be more.”

Even though Seth’s expression hardened, he didn’t walk away. So Nate pressed on, sensing an opening.

“I get it,” she said softly. “You don’t like him. I’m not asking you to. But this isn’t about Roman—it’s about stopping this mass assassination. A military-grade shipment of weapons stolen in plain sight. Damian Priest. Gone. Bad Bunny and his men. Gone. Some of the most powerful people I’ve personally ever met. Whoever is behind it, has the balls to take out an entire underground, and I’ll be damned if my family is next. My sister is twenty-years-old. Barely experienced the world. I’ve protected her up until now, but who knows how much further that can go?” She licked her lips, taking a tentative step toward Seth.

“Surely you must know what that feels like… the need to protect your family.”

She let the words hang there for a minute, knowing the implication would hit him. Seth’s gaze moved to Becky, who was watching him carefully. The subtle shift in his expression told Nate she’d struck a nerve.

“You don’t play fair, do you?” Seth muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re just like her.”

Nate glanced at Becky, who smirked at her husband. “Told you she was a smart one,” she said. “And for the record, she’s not wrong. This is bigger than any grudge any of us have.”

Seth sighed, looking between the two women. “Damn it,” he grumbled. Finally, he turned to Nate. “Fine. I’ll help. But don’t expect me to be nice about it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Nate said, a small smile on her face as she did.

Seth squinted his eyes at her, but there was no real malice behind it. “You better know what you’re doing,” he said.

“I always do,” she replied. Then, after a pause, she added, “Thank you. Really.”

Seth waved her off, already walking back toward Becky. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t make me regret this.”

“Noted,” Nate agreed with a nod before swiftly turning and heading back to the SUV to retrieve Roman. A small wash of relief took her; convincing Seth to work with Roman, even if brief and loose, would never be an easy feat. But she’d done it.

She pulled open the car door and slid halfway inside, immediately sensing the anticipation dwelling on the inside, with Roman sitting stone-faced and the rest of his crew watching her expectantly.

“Well?” Jey asked first, leaning forward slightly.

“It’s… complicated,” Nate admitted, looking directly at Roman. “It’s probably best if you come alone. Seth’s already skittish, and adding more of an entourage won’t help.”

Jimmy and Jey exchanged glances but didn’t argue. Sami nodded diplomatically. “Yeah, probably doesn’t help if we roll in looking like we’re about to start a turf war.”

Solo, on the other hand, scowled. His arms were crossed, his usual stoic demeanour giving way to something closer to frustration. “You want him to go alone?”

“It’s not ideal,” she carefully accepted. “But it’s the best chance we have of keeping things somewhat civil. Neutral.”

The enforcer’s glare shifted to Roman, silently challenging him. Roman exhaled through his nose, the barest flash of irritation crossing his face. “I’ll be fine,” he affirmed, locking eyes with Solo. “You don’t need to babysit me.”

“Ain’t about babysittin’,” Solo stiffly countered. “It’s about makin’ sure you safe, Chief. That’s my job.”

Roman’s gaze softened just enough to be noticeable. “And you do your job better than anyone… But this ain’t a fight, Solo. It’s a conversation. Let me handle it.”

Solo hesitated but eventually nodded, though his posture remained rigid. On guard. Nate noted the exchange but didn’t comment, instead nodding toward the door. “Come on, bol’shoy paren’,” she said to Roman. “Let’s get this shit done.”

They both stepped out into the cool night air, the silence between them stretching as they walked. Nate glanced at Roman, noticing how his jaw was already clenching as he caught the distant sight of his former brother, and let out a heavy sigh.

“Don’t be a bitch about this, alright?” she breathed, her tone light but pointed.

Roman shot her a sidelong look, one dark eyebrow arching. “You think I’m incompetent, Princess?”

Nate smirked, a spark of mischief lighting her eyes. She tilted her head slightly, her British accent dropping with playful mockery. “Oh, I definitely don’t think you’re incompetent, darling.”

Roman’s lips twitched, his expression briefly cracking with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. He didn’t miss the way she emphasised the word, the memory of their most recent encounter whispering between them like a live wire. “Watch it,” he teased, the heat in his tone anything but malicious.

They reached the middle of the parking lot, where Seth and Becky were waiting by their car. As soon as Roman and Seth locked eyes, the tension skyrocketed. It was like watching two apex predators sizing each other up, neither willing to back down. Roman stood tall, his presence commanding as always, while Seth leaned casually against the car, his smirk a deliberate provocation.

Nate exchanged a quick glance with Becky, who looked equally bewildered by the sudden standoff. “What the fuck…” Becky mumbled under her breath, looking between the two men.

“Don’t ask me,” Nate replied quietly, crossing her arms. “I think this is just… testosterone.”

The silence stretched out uncomfortably until Nate finally decided to intervene. “Right,” she said, clearing her throat. “What have you got for us, Seth?”

Without breaking eye contact with Roman, Seth pushed off the car and gestured toward the trunk. “Back here.”

Roman frowned. “Why?”

Seth glanced at him with an unreadable facade. 

“Because I’m going to kill you, put you in my trunk, and piss on your corpse,” he said with a deadpan delivery.

Becky audibly groaned, her head falling into her hand. “Jesus, Seth…”

It was hard to tell if the emotion that caught Roman was amusement or annoyance.

“Charming,” he said dryly.

“Hey,” Seth shrugged, “Just getting it out of my system.”

“Done yet?” the Samoan asked flatly.

“Not even close,” Seth shot back, opening the trunk.

Becky sighed, leaning toward Nate. “This is going great, don’t you think?”

“Oh, swimmingly,” Nate snorted, thick with sarcasm. Roman and Seth could continue their silent battle of wills if they wanted, but for now, she was more concerned about keeping the night from devolving into chaos.

Seth motioned toward the open trunk, revealing a stack of folders and a laptop that looked like it had seen its fair share of back-alley dealings. He picked up the top folder, flipping it open too casually, considering the weight of the information inside.

“Here’s what I’ve got,” he began, his tone switching to professional. “I’ve been keeping tabs on movements that feel… off. Have been for years, call it a… hobby of sorts. Funds shifting around, old accounts suddenly waking up—things that don’t scream ‘legit.’” He glanced at Roman, smirking a little. “So, when exactly did this shipment of yours go missing?”

“September,” Roman replied.

“Hmm,” Seth murmured, pulling out a piece of paper with a handwritten timeline. “Figures.” He looked at Becky briefly before continuing. “You said Damian Priest was taken out during the same event, right? What’d it look like? Close quarters? Long range?”

Roman exchanged a look with Nate, acutely aware of her close connection with some of The Judgement Day members. “Sniper. Precise. A single shot between the eyes.”

Seth’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Interesting. That’s not just skill, that’s money—serious money. You want that kinda precision, you’re not hiring your cousin’s buddy from down the block. You’re bringing in someone with credentials.”

Roman crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. “Professional. Just like we thought.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying…” Seth gave him a look that screamed obviously, before pulling out another folder, opening it to reveal a printout of a bank statement. “Now, here’s where it gets fun. I’ve been tracking some weird transfers—big ones. They’ve been popping up since late August. All routing through an account I haven’t seen active since 2015.”

Nate leaned forward slightly, looking down at the statement. “And the account belongs to…?”

Seth tapped the paper with a finger. “Back in the day, it was listed under the name ‘Shattered Dreams Armory.’ A nice little alias for weapons trading. But now?” He flipped to another page, showing a different name associated with a recent transfer. “It’s going under ‘Viper Machinery.’”

Roman’s brow furrowed, and he exchanged a quick glance with Nate, who was visibly processing the information. “Viper Machinery,” Roman repeated under his breath before shaking his head slowly. “I’m not sure I’ve heard of it.”

“Not surprising,” Seth said. “Whoever’s running it is smart. They’re keeping their tracks covered. But these transfers?” He pointed down at the statement. “They’re big. Someone’s moving a lot of money, and they’re using old channels to do it. Feels like someone’s waking up old ghosts to pull this off.”

“You got specifics? Dates? Amounts?”

Seth rolled his eyes at Roman, needling his tone somewhat. “Do I look like I half-ass this kinda thing? Of course I’ve got specifics.” He flipped the page again, showing the detailed breakdown of the transfers. “August, a hundred grand. September, another two-fifty. October, half a mil. All to this account.”

Roman reached for the folder, but Seth didn’t hand it over immediately, instead holding it just out of reach. “You’re welcome, by the way,” he said sarcastically.

Roman’s jaw tightened, and Nate groaned loudly. “Chert voz’mi, bozhe moy,” she muttered, stepping between them. “Can we not do this right now? Just give him the bloody folder, Rollins.”

Seth relented, but not without a small glare from Becky, who was clearly unimpressed with his antics. Roman opened the folder, scanning the contents quickly. His face scrunched up as he processed the information. Shattered Dreams Amory… So familiar, yet so far out of his grasp of recollection. 

“You’re welcome,” Seth repeated smugly, leaning against the car, like he couldn’t help himself.

“For what?” Roman looked up at him. “Doin’ the bare minimum?”

Seth grinned. “For not charging you, big guy. Information like this doesn’t come cheap. You should be thanking me.”

“Thank you,” Roman said dryly, making it more than obvious that he didn’t mean a bit of it.

Nate pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes before holding a hand out between the two men. “Are you two done measuring dicks, or do I need to referee?”

Seth chuckled, as though he’d just heard the funniest thing in the world, which prompted Becky to roll her eyes and nudge her husband. “For the love of God,” she said. “You’re not twelve.”

“I’m just saying,” he replied innocently, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

Roman ignored the banter, flipping through the folder in his hands, before glancing back up at Seth. “Anythin’ else?”

Seth actually hesitated for a fraction of a second, blinking at Roman like he wanted to say something more but thought better of it. Instead, he confidently shook his head. “On them? Not yet. But if you’re dealing with someone who’s willing to reanimate a name like Shattered Dreams, you’re in deep. And not the fun kind of deep.”

“Great,” Nate mumbled, her patience wearing thin. “Just what we needed to hear.”

Roman closed the folder with a snap. “Let’s keep this movin’.”

Becky leaned against the edge of the sedan, producing a brown envelope from inside the trunk. “Alright,” she began, glancing between Roman and Nate, “My turn. After we agreed to meet, I took it upon myself to make a few calls. Got in touch with a couple of lads who owe me a few favours.”

Nate’s head snapped towards her, sharpening her features. “You what? Becky, are you serious? Why the fuck would you bring more people into this?”

The redhead raised an eyebrow, completely unbothered by the outburst. “Relax, Sherlock. A shootout in a warehouse isn’t exactly the kind of thing people overlook. You think nobody was gonna notice? Someone was bound to find out something happened there eventually.”

“And who, exactly, did you talk to?” 

“Finn Bálor,” Becky said calmly, “And JD McDonagh… You know them.”

“That’s exactly the problem!” Nate hissed. “I’ve already had Rhea down my throat, Beck, I didn’t exactly want the rest of Judgement Day sniffing around. I’m pretty sure they already think it was my dad who did all thi–”

“Was it?” Seth flat-out asked. Nate glared over at him, taking a heavy breath through her nose.

“Listen, Rollins, I already don’t like y–”

“Would you relax?” Becky cut her off, holding up her hands. “I was smooth about it, okay? Finn and JD know how to keep things quiet, and you know damn well Finn doesn’t give a shite about anyone but himself.” She folded her arms, staring Nate down. “Besides, I’ve known Finn for years, you think I’d go around shouting your business? Give them some credit.”

Unbeknownst to Seth and Becky, Roman had slid his hand down to Nate’s lower back, giving her a little squeeze firm enough to get her attention. “Chill, Volkov, you’re good,” he said quietly. “Let her finish.”

Nate exhaled sharply, eyes flicking to Roman briefly before crossing her arms over her chest. “What did Dumb and Dumber find then?” she grumbled.

Becky reached into the envelope in her hands and pulled out a clear ziplock bag, holding it up for everyone to see. Inside were several shell casings. “Finn and JD went back to the warehouse to scout for anything left behind. Turns out, there were shells from both your weaponry,” she said, nodding toward Roman, “And the Volkovs.”

“Wow, look at Captain Obvious…” Nate mumbled, huffing a little.

Ignoring the jab, Becky proceeded to pick out a single shell from the bottom of the bag, holding it up between her fingers. “Except this one.”

Squinting his eyes, Roman leaned in to take a good look at it. “And that is?”

Becky handed the shell to Seth, who held it up like he was examining a rare artefact. “This,” Seth began, “Is a casing from a Barrett MRAD sniper rifle. High-calibre, precision-focused, and expensive as hell. Not the kind of thing you pick up at your average black-market arms dealer.”

Nate tilted her head, face contorting slightly. “And where does that get us?”

Seth’s smirk was complacent. “It gets us here.” He opened up yet another folder and laid out a piece of paper on the floor of his trunk with what looked like a transaction log. “This particular rifle? It was registered in 2013 to Shattered Dreams Armory. And we already know that whoever’s behind Shattered Dreams has rebranded into this Viper Machinery nonsense.”

“So, whoever pulled the trigger on Priest…” Roman started, “Used a weapon they got directly from Shattered Dreams.”

“Exactly,” Becky confirmed. “Whoever’s pulling the strings here has been at it for years. They didn’t just steal your shipment and take out Priest on a whim. This is methodical. They’ve got resources and connections that go way back.”

Nate’s hands curled into fists at her sides. “Perfect,” she huffed. “So we’re dealing with a ghost who knows how to cover tracks.”

“You’re not wrong,” Seth said. “But now you know what to look into. Viper Machinery is your link. Find out who’s using it, and you’ll find out who’s behind all of this.”

Nate’s shoulders stiffened, and her voice rose slightly. “And how exactly do you expect us to do that? It’s not like they’re advertising their services on Craigslist.”

“Nate,” Roman stepped in. She looked up at him, her breathing quick and shallow, irritation boiling over. His eyes locked with hers, steadily. Grounding her. “We’re gon’ figure it out,” he reassured. “You’re no good to anyone if you’re workin’ yourself up too much to think.”

Her lips parted as though she wanted to argue. And she did. God, she could argue with a brick wall if it was laid wrong. But the quiet authority in Roman’s tone—and the way he wasn’t looking at her like an opponent but a straight up ally—made her pause. She breathed out slowly, nodding at him. “Okay,” she said softly.

Becky’s brows lifted as she watched the exchange with great interest. “Huh,” she chuckled. “Look at that… He’s not a total arse.”

Seth scoffed a little but didn’t comment, instead gesturing to the folder still in Roman’s hands. “That’s all I can give you for now. But if you want my advice—”

“Did we ask for it?” Roman interrupted.

Seth grinned. “Yeah, yeah, acknowledge me, I get it. Just don’t screw this up, Big Dog. Because if you do, it’s not just your ass on the line. It’s hers too.” He nodded toward Nate.

If this were under any other circumstances, Roman may have just floored the guy. But, adhering to Nate’s requests, he just cleared his throat and tucked the folder under his arms, turning to her. “Let’s go.”

As Roman began making his way back to the car, Nate took a quick moment to give Becky an appreciative glance, mouthing a silent thank you in the process before catching up to Roman with a small jog. Walking back to the SUV, she caught the tiniest flicker of a smirk on the Samoan’s face.

“What?” she asked defensively.

“Nothin’,” he replied, the smirk only deepening. “Just nice to see I’m the one who can shut you up.”

“Don’t push your luck, Reigns, we’re barely back to the car yet.”

Nearing the SUV, Roman’s stride began to slow, casting a wary side glance at Nate. He stopped just shy of the vehicle, and his hand lightly caught her elbow, stopping her in her tracks too.

“You good?” he asked evenly, though sharp eyes scanned her face like he was reading between the lines of a book in a language he couldn’t decipher.

“Fine,” Nate answered quickly, perhaps too quickly. Her guard was up, her tone clipped in a way that Roman didn’t miss. Couldn’t miss. In fact, he hadn’t missed it all night.

“Uh-huh.” 

Roman didn’t buy it for a second. The slight tilt of his head signalled he wasn’t going to let her brush him off this time, folding his arms across his broad chest, the folder securely in one hand. “You headin’ back to Tribeca tonight?”

She hesitated, which already told him more than her eventual answer. “Yeah. But I can make my own way if it’s inconvenient, if you’ve got something else going on.”

That stumped him. “What?”

Nate squinted her eyes, confused as to why he was looking at her like she’d just spoken a foreign language. Maybe she’d just spoken in pure Russian and didn’t realise.

“I mean… You’ve got things going on, right?” she shifted uncomfortably, dropping her voice, “I don’t need to–”

“Hold up.” Roman’s tone was calm, but weighty enough for her to happily shut the fuck up. “You don’t need to what? You worried ‘bout me all of a sudden? ‘Cause that don’t sound right, Princess.”

She bristled, a small scoff escaping her. “I’m not worried, I’m just—”

“You’re just…?” He leaned slightly closer, his voice dipping lower. “Go on. Finish that.”

“I’m being practical,” she huffed with a roll of her eyes.

“Yeah, okay…” He was clearly unconvinced, shaking his head and muttering under his breath, “Practical, my ass.”

Nate wanted to argue, even started to part her lips to refute his dismissal, but he cut her off before she could. “We’ll drop everyone off back at my place first, then I’ll take you to Tribeca.”

“Why not just stop at Tribeca on the way?” she frowned. “Makes more sense.”

Roman’s eyes locked onto hers in that stern, cold way they did when he wasn’t willing to negotiate, to argue. “Because I wanna talk to you.”

Brows knitting together, a flicker of confusion crossed her. “About what?”

“Just get in the car, Volkov, or I’ma leave you here.”

Nate stared at him for a moment, debating whether or not to push back, but ultimately sighed heavily and started her way round to the passenger’s side of the car. “So bloody infuriating…” she mumbled.

“Heard that,” he called from the other side of the SUV, the signature smirk back on his face as he climbed into the driver’s seat and instantly turned toward the back seat to pass Jimmy the folder. “Take this. Focus on two names: Shattered Dreams Armory and Viper Machinery. I’ll break the rest down later, but for now, I need you on it. Both of you,” he added, looking between Jimmy and Jey. “We’ll get Tamina on it too.”

“Got it, Uce. We’ll take care of it,” Jimmy agreed, pursing his lips as he perused the documents with Jey attempting to lean over Sami to get a look at it himself, as though he couldn’t just ask for the folder when his brother was done with it.

The drive to Roman’s house was steeped in a quiet friction. Sami and Jimmy chatted quietly in the back, with Jey and Solo inputting here and there, but it wasn’t difficult to feel Solo’s wandering observation, even from all the way in the rear. But the Tribal Chief knew how to handle his enforcer, so he just ignored it for now, focusing on the road.

When they pulled into the long driveway leading to the house, Roman brought the car to a slow stop and cut off the engine. The Usos, Sami, and Solo climbed out, though the latter lingered, gripping the door frame as he glanced at Roman. His eyes flicked over at Nate, seated quietly, her form more withdrawn than usual.

“You’re not comin’ in?” Solo asked.

Roman shook his head firmly. “I’m takin’ Nate back to her place.”

Solo furrowed his eyebrows, narrowing his eyes inquisitively. “Why can’t she–”

“Solo,” Roman interrupted carefully. “Make sure everyone’s good inside. Hold it down ‘til I get back. Won’t be long.”

For a moment, Solo didn’t move, and focused back on the outside in the passenger seat. Unlike earlier, when she might have met his stare with defiance, she simply looked away blankly, as though her attention were somewhere completely unrelated and distant. The shift that even he noticed, left Solo frowning, but his cousin’s authoritative presence was enough to prevent further questioning.

“Yeah. Alright,” he grunted with a reluctant nod, before stepping back and shutting the door.

Roman shifted back into gear and eased the SUV back down the driveway, soaking up the silence that took over the space. It was thick. Not heavy, per se. But it was more… elusive—uncertain, fatigued.

Nate leaned her head against the cool glass of the window, her eyes fixed on the blur of city lights as they made their way toward Tribeca. She wasn’t one to sink into a foreigners space comfortably, but it was hard not to with the exhaustion that began to seep into every inch of her being. The need for solitude pressed on her greater than the need for compliance.

Surprisingly, the large Samoan beside her didn’t push her to talk, his hands steady on the wheel. He’d give her this time, at least…

But, like always, tranquillity never found peace in the lap of a Volkov; a faint, unmistakable growl broke through the monotony—the sound of a stomach protesting its neglect.

Roman glanced sideways, one brow lifting in amusement. “That your stomach?”

Nate sighed, a reluctant smile forming despite herself. “Maybe,” she admitted gently.

The corner of Roman’s mouth curved upward, and he let out a low chuckle. “Damn, you got a beast in there or somethin’?”

The moment felt fleetingly normal—just two people sharing a bit of levity in the aftermath of intense conversation. Nate rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the airy laugh that left her lips.

“I think it’s trying to mutiny,” she dryly jested, that classic British edge that only some could detect as humour.

“You hungry? We can stop somewhere. Grab somethin’ real quick.”

The question caught her by surprise, and she hesitated before shaking her head. “No, I’m fine.”

“You sure?” he asked, looking at her for a beat longer than necessary before he returned his focus to the road. “Your body’s tellin’ you somethin’, Volkov, probably a good idea to listen.”

The ease of the previous exchange simmered down slightly, the smile on Nate’s face now just a vacant chime of a grimace as she straightened in her seat. “It’s past six.”

Roman frowned. “What, that like a rule or somethin’?”

“Something like that.” She didn’t elaborate, just continued to watch as the road came toward them and disappeared under the car.

The instinct to understand Nate’s habits and the reasons behind them seemed to gnaw at Roman’s psyche; he wanted to press further. Wanted to figure her out. Entirely. But the way she adjusted her posture—the way her shoulders tensed—put a stop to his curiosities. Maybe it was cultural, he reasoned, some family thing he had no right prying into.

“Alright,” he simply said, letting it go.

The SUV fell back into silence, but this time it was softer, less oppressive. Definitely less oppressive than one would expect after such a strange exchange. But Nate’s mind drifted, like it always did in times of energy depletion and thinning patience, but she couldn’t deny the foreign sense of ease she felt sitting there beside Roman. Beneath the complete instability of home, he provided a quiet kind of… security. 

A sensation of safety that eluded her elsewhere.

Roman parked the SUV a few buildings down from Nate’s apartment, just far enough to keep the vehicle out of the view of security cameras at the front of her complex. They were out of the way enough that they wouldn’t be interrupted, save from the occasional hum of passing traffic in the otherwise still night.

Neither of them moved for what seemed like the longest minute of Nate’s life. His hands were still on the wheel, knuckles rolling a little as he adjusted his grip. His jaw; tense as he prepared for a conversation he wasn’t entirely sure how to start.

Nate shifted slightly in her seat, fingers brushing against the door handle. The exhaustion had deepened during the quiet drive, and all she wanted was the sanctuary of her own space—a moment to shut the world out, Roman included. Too much on her mind. Too many emotions bubbling beneath the surface.

A few glasses of whiskey, blasting some music, and a hot bath seemed like, at that moment, the best thing in the world.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said softly. It wasn’t too much like her to express gratitude so easily, but it felt different tonight. Tonight, she just felt like a massive burden. A bout of deadweight nobody truly wanted to drag around with them. Like she was in the way, yet… never there when needed.

She made a quick move to open the door, making it clear she wasn’t looking for further conversation. “I’ll head in from he–”

Roman’s hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around her wrist firmly, but not so much that it would hurt her. She froze, breath catching in her throat. There was no malice in the touch, but his authority—his… insistence was what stopped her as effectively as a wall would.

“Not so fast.”

Turning her head slowly, her eyes met his, noting the sharp angles of his face highlighted by the streetlight beside where he’d parked up. The furrow of his brow, the set of his jaw. He didn’t speak at first, his hand sliding up from her wrist to her forearm, a clear goal in mind. Her body practically stiffened as it stopped just short of her shoulder before moving upward again. 

When his thumb brushed over her cheekbone—light, reverent—she flinched. It was slight, but Roman noticed it.

His fingers lingered, barely cupping her face now, and his thumb traced the faint but unmistakable cut along her skin.

For a man like Roman, who could be cruel and brutal when necessary, the tenderness in his touch was jarring.

“What happened?” he asked quietly. It was calm, but the undertones were anything but.

Nate tried to turn her head, tried to move out of his hold, but his hand didn’t budge. “It’s nothing,” mumbled. “Really. Just… I slipped, that’s all.”

“Don’t lie to me.” He narrowed his eyes at her.

She sighed, shoulders slumping a fraction in the process. “It’s not a big deal. Things happen, Roman, let’s ju–”

“I said, don’t lie to me,” he interrupted, his tone sharper this time. His thumb brushed over the cut again, eyes darkening as he did. “You expect me to believe you ‘slipped’ and landed on your face? C’mon, Volkov, you’re better at lyin’ than that.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her silence speaking louder than anything she could have said.

Roman’s jaw tightened, his patience fraying. “Was it… what’s his name, Alexei?” he asked. Voice dropping an octave.

Nate shook her head immediately.

“Boris?” he asked next, the faintest trace of confusion colouring his words, like the concept made little sense.

Again, she shook her head.

Roman paused, his hand still on her cheek, thumb still tracing small circles near the edge of the cut. His eyes searched hers, and for the first time during this particular conversation, he hesitated.

“...Dimitri?”

It felt heavy on his tongue, almost too vile to say aloud.

She didn’t nod. She didn’t shake her head. Didn’t move at all, in fact. And the silence that followed was deafening.

Roman’s hand dropped from her face as if her skin had burned him. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes locked on her. The shift in his expression was progressive. The anger rising within him was like a tidal wave, slow and inevitable.

“Your father?” he repeated through a low tremble that barely contained his impending fury.

Nate didn’t respond, just had her hands clasped together tightly in her lap. She couldn’t even look at him in her time of weakness. To her, it was… pathetic.

“What kind of man,” he began, “Puts his hands on his own daughter? Huh? What kind of… pathetic, weak bastard thinks that’s okay?”

She stayed silent, her head tilted downward, but she took in every syllable of what he was saying.

“You’re his daughter,” Roman continued, the words tumbling out now, fuelled by a rage that only seemed to grow. “His blood. You don’t hit your own, Nate. You don’t raise a hand to any woman, let alone your own damn kid. What the fuck’s wrong with him? What kinda sick—”

His voice broke off, and he slammed a hand against the dashboard, the sharp sound echoing in the confines of the car. Whilst Nate didn’t flinch, her chest began to rise and fall a little faster now, a shallowness forming in her breath.

Roman shook his head, running a hand over his face. “I’d never–” He stopped, his throat tightening and his teeth gritting painfully. “I can’t even think about doin’ somethin’ like that to Ava. I’d cut off my own fuckin’ hands first. That’s your daughter, you protect her. You don’t…” He trailed off, hands clenched into fists.

He just… couldn’t shake the anger simmering beneath his skin. The thought of a father hitting his daughter—it wasn’t just foreign to him; it was repulsive. It dug at something primal, something deeply ingrained in his core, and the more he thought about it, the harder it became to let go. But it wasn’t just the abstract idea of it anymore. It was Nate.

And that’s what finally made him pause.

She was sitting next to him, as still as a shadow, staring out of the window like she could somehow dissolve into the night if she tried hard enough. The cool, unflappable Natalka Volkov, who never so much as blinked when the stakes were high, had tears streaking silently down her cheeks.

Roman blinked, as though his mind needed to catch up with what his eyes were seeing. She wasn’t sobbing, wasn’t shaking, wasn’t even making a sound. It was quieter than anything he’d ever witnessed, but it hit him harder than if she’d broken down entirely. She wasn’t just crying. She was breaking—right there in his passenger seat.

For a moment, he just watched her. The sheen of tears clinging to her lashes, the way her chest rose and fell like she was trying to breathe through a knot in her throat. It dawned on him, slow and heavy, that he’d never seen her like this. Ever. Nate didn’t cry. She snapped, she fought, she drank, she laughed. But she didn’t cry.

Not until now.

And it wasn’t just the tears. It was what they meant. It wasn’t lost on him that her guard was always so airtight, so impenetrable, and the fact that she’d let it slip in front of him of all people—that told him everything he needed to know. Whatever was happening with her, whatever had driven her to this edge, it was… bad.

Roman’s nostrils flared in his disgust, his anger, as it rose back up in his chest again. But it was different now. Before, he’d been mad at the idea. The principle. Now, he was mad for her. For Nate.

How bad was it over there?

For years, he’d painted the Volkovs—and every Russian tied to them—with the same brush. Ruthless, cold-blooded criminals. They weren’t people to him; they were obstacles, enemies. And when Nate first came into his life, that’s exactly how he’d seen her. A means to an end. A pawn in the game.

But now?

Roman exhaled sharply, leaning back in his seat and dragging a hand over his jaw. Damn it. He meant it that time he told her she wasn’t her family. She wasn’t like Dimitri. And that was part of the problem. She’d spent so much of her life fighting to impress her father, maybe even to be a better, more powerful version of him, and now Roman hated the fact that he was starting to care.

Care.

Forbidden territory, that’s what she was. The daughter of his enemy. A woman he wasn’t supposed to feel anything for. And yet here she was, unravelling before him. He hated the way it twisted his insides. Hated the way it made him want to protect her, to keep her from whatever hell she was facing at home.

This wasn’t who he was supposed to be. He didn’t care about the women he fucked. Hell, he didn’t even think about them after the fact. Yet since that night at the safehouse, he hadn’t been with anyone else. Not once.

The realisation hit him like a punch to the gut, and it only made him angrier. Just another thing to add to the mountain of bullshit piling up around him. 

Letting out a sharp breath, he looked over at Nate again. Her face was angled toward the window, but her hands were clenched tightly in her lap. He could see the faint tremor in her fingers.

“Nate,” he said finally, yet a little rougher than he intended.

She didn’t turn.

“Nate, look at me.”

So she did, albeit slowly with her eyes still shining with unshed tears.

“How did it happen?” he asked.

She held off on an answer. Half-wishing that this conversation never even started in the first place. Then, as if the dam had cracked, she breathed out and began to speak.

“They told Katya,” she said quietly, distantly, “That she’s going to marry Alexei in February.”

Roman tilted his head. “Alexei,” he repeated. “The guy your old man’s pushin’ into business?”

She nodded, her gaze drifting again, as though she were replaying the memory in her mind. “She’s so sweet, Roman,” she murmured, almost to herself. “She’s not like us. Not like me. She’s… pure.” Her breath caught, but she kept going. “I’ve tried so… so hard to keep her away from all of this. But now they’re dragging her into it, and she doesn’t even know what she’s being dragged into.”

He noted how her voice softened when she talked about her sister, how her hands tightened in her lap as if trying to hold herself together.

“You told them no,” he half-asked.

Nate nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Of course, I told them no,” she said, her voice finally gaining some edge. “But no one tells my dad no. Not without…” She gestured vaguely toward her cheek, her meaning clear.

Roman’s eyes narrowed as the pieces clicked into place. “You stood up to him.” A hint of… pride, perhaps—creeping into his tone. She shrugged, the facade slipping back into place, though not quite as solid as before.

“Someone had to,” she said matter-of-factly.

He let out a low huff, almost a laugh, humourless and dry. “You’re outta your damn mind,” he shook his head. “You know that?”

She smirked faintly, the first real emotion that touched the realm of positive, he’d seen from her since they parked. “Yeah. I’ve been told.”

“You’re not like him, y’know,” Roman suddenly interjected, the caught-off-guard expression on Nate’s face more endearing to him than it should’ve been. “You’re not like your old man,” he repeated. “I know I told you that before, but I meant that shit.”

Even though she didn’t respond immediately, it was noticeable how the tension in her shoulders, and all the way down her back, softened. Like… she was relieved. And he didn’t elaborate, didn’t push. He didn’t need to. She’d been getting better at seeing through him, and she saw through him now. Whatever else he felt—anger, frustration, pride—he buried it under the same stubborn mask he always wore.

And she let him, because she got it.

And the quiet that stretched like the one after a storm that promised another was on the horizon, wasn’t awkward. Just heavy. Roman rested his hand on the steering wheel, his gaze fixed on the street ahead, while Nate sat motionless beside him. At first, he thought she was about to leave, but something stopped her.

Her eyes narrowed a bit, a slight furrow in her brow as her teeth caught the edge of her bottom lip. She was thinking, deeply, about something; he saw it in the harshness of her swallow, in the small, involuntary twitch of her fingers against her lap.

Shifting in her seat, she leaned back before leaning forward again, clearly unsure of how to approach whatever was on her mind.

“Nate,” Roman said, cutting through her thoughts. “What is it?”

She faltered, tightening the muscles in her jaw. Then, with a minute, shaky breath, she spoke.

“Could you…” She trailed off, biting at her lip again before starting over. “I was just wondering if—actually, no. Forget it, it–”

“Nate,” he interrupted firmly enough to stop her spiral of second-guessing.

She exhaled sharply, shoulders deflating as she tried again. “Could you do me a favour?” 

Roman arched a brow, glancing at her out the corner of his eye. “Depends on the favour.”

“Nothing… crazy,” she rushed to explain, a nervous edge creeping into her words. “And honestly, if you can’t, it’s fine. I get it. You’ve got your own stuff, and I don’t want t–”

“I’ll do it.”

She blinked at him, startled by how quickly and definitively he’d agreed. “You don’t even know what it is,” she tilted her head.

“Does it matter?”

“You love to play the hero, eh?” she huffed through a soft, incredulous laugh.

He shot her a look that was half-warning, half-amused. “I’m not a hero. What d’ya need, Princess?”

Fidgeting with one of the buckles on her leather jacket, she hummed. “I uh… I need you to put me in touch with Tamina.”

“Tamina?” Of all the things she could’ve asked, that wasn’t what he expected.

“Yeah.” She looked up at him, already seeing the question in his eyes before he could ask it. “I need to sort something out,” she said. “I need information on someone, and Tamina… she’s the best at finding things, right?”

There was no hesitation when he nodded almost instantly. “Alright.”

That simplicity caught her off guard. “Just like that?” she asked, squinting at him like he had an ulterior motive.

“Just like that,” he confirmed.

Honestly, she was expecting to have to go into details, to convince him to let her talk with Tamina, but apparently not.

“O-okay,” she finally uttered. “Can you give her my burner number?”

“Your burner?”

She nodded, glancing away briefly before meeting his eyes again. “I can’t leave any trace of this. Not at home, not on my regular line. Nothing. I’m being serious, Roman, this needs to stay off the radar.”

As much as she expected him to press for answers, he wanted to. It was just part of who he was; the constant need to be aware of everything that’s going on, not content with the thought of not being in the know about something he is indirectly aiding. But Nate clearly had her reasons, and if those reasons meant she had to go to these lengths to actually ask him for help, he wasn’t about to argue it.

“Fine,” he mumbled, reaching for his phone from his pocket to make a note for himself. “You’ll hear from her soon.”

“Okay…” Nate sat in silence as she watched his long thumbs move over his phone screen, her thoughts clearly still racing, her own fingers drummed lightly against her knee. She couldn’t help the shifting in her seat, and the need to take slow, deep breaths. 

Eventually, her hand hovered near the door handle, but she didn’t open it yet. Instead, she turned toward him, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Thank you,” she whispered, carrying a note of sincerity even he wasn’t prepared for. He raised an eyebrow, now averting his gaze back to her.

“For what?”

“For… I don’t know.” She stumbled on her words, then let out a small laugh, muttering to herself, “Ya chertovski nenavizhu sebya…” She cleared her throat. “For not making this harder than it already is, I guess. For just saying yes without asking too many questions.”

Roman shrugged, placing his phone on the dashboard. “You needed somethin’. I said I’d do it.”

There it was again—that simplicity. So infuriatingly matter-of-fact. Nate felt a warmth bloom in her chest, but she shoved it down before it could spread too far and too wide. She leaned forward slightly, taking in the details of his face as if trying to decide whether or not she should do what she was thinking of doing. What her body was telling, ordering her to do.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she proceeded to lean in closer, her lips brushing softly against Roman’s cheek, just above where his beard meticulously bordered the rest of his face. A kiss so quick and delicate that it almost didn’t happen.

Freezing for half a second, Roman’s body came to a stop at the unexpected gesture. She lingered just long enough for him to feel the warmth of her spearmint breath, the faint scent of her perfume protracting in the process. And the shampoo she used, clear-as-day vanilla with the smallest hint of rhubarb, coming together with the cocoa butter lotion left as an after-aroma. 

Intoxicating.

When she pulled back, there was something gentle behind her honey eyes—something vulnerable. “Thank you,” she said again, more as a mumble this time.

He didn’t answer, just kept the dark fix of his gaze locked on her with an unreadable countenance. 

Alas, she cleared her throat once more, straightening up as she reached for the door handle again. “Keep me in the loop, okay? About those folders Seth gave you. I want to know what else is in there.”

Roman nodded once, curtly and with an air of finality. “You’ll know.”

Nate opened the door and slipped out of the car, the cool night air hitting her as she turned back to face him. 

“Goodnight, Reigns. Don’t get yourself killed,” she said, a smirk appearing in the limited light. He mirrored, switching on the engine and resting his forearm over the steering wheel.

“G’night, Princess.”

With one last tight-lipped smile, she shut the door and made her way toward the apartment building, her figure disappearing into the shadows. Roman sat there, staring at her fading form in the side-view mirror, the faint impression of her kiss still lingering on his cheek like a ghost.

He didn’t even move until she was completely out of sight, until he knew she’d gotten inside the building, and it wasn’t even until he was halfway home that he realised she’d played on his mind the whole time. Never once left a single iota of brainpower for anything else. She was getting under his skin in ways he hadn’t anticipated, more than she ever had done up until that moment, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

All he knew was that, for reasons he didn’t want to admit, he found himself admiring her all over again.

[islandtarochips]

Kanoa and Tiala's Tattoos

Just wanna show of how Kanoa and Tiala's tattoos look like. Ok, here is what Tiala's and Kanoa's tattoo would look like on their arms.

That's what it looks like on Tiala's RIGHT arm and Kanoa's LEFT arm.

And that's....where the burnt part was at from the enemies that Tiala got kidnapped by. Only a few burnt part on the tattoos.

Like I said about Kanoa having the similar one on his left arm as well, even going up to his left peck. Like this way:

Their two older brothers, Sami and Rangi, have tattoos on them too.

These older siblings was just representing their culture for their ancestors. And their tattoos tells many stories of it too. That's what I heard from one of my Uncles when I saw his tattoos. It tells stories. And imagining Tiala had lost those marks about her cultures. It was only a few part that was burnt. Making her feel like half of the stories has been erased. Even her emotions. It's a very hard design, yes. But that's what make their culture more special and creative!

So yeah, that's all I have for now.

[zabchan]

Big Moana 2 Spoilers ahead. Beyond the cut is the Samoan to english translation of maui's 2nd song for moana. (And the context it appears in)

ladies and gents of the moana fandom, thanks to the effort of samoan speaker @yuki685 on youtube, and my buddy @rykierykerman for hooking me up with the text and screenshots

what i'd like to discuss with yall today is not only sharing the translation for this song, but some of the character implication this has for maui, especially when you look at how his OG legends depict him.

LYRICS:

(Maui singing in Samoan):

Aue, aue, le faigata / Aue, aue, how difficult it is

Ua pa'ū fa'anoanoa / Falling into sadness

Aue, aue, fa'ataga ola / Aue, aue, please allow this life to continue

Lenā La'u talosaga / This is my prayer

---

(E manu malo) / May there be blessings

(Opataia Foa'i and Te Vaka singing in Tokelauan)

Tele tele mana e o te vavau (Vavau) / Great, great power of mana

Tau ke tu ke Manumalo / Fight, stand tall and be victorious

Ke Manumalo / Be victorious

---

(Grandma Tala)

Aue, aue, mana e o te vavau / Aue, aue, the power of mana

Tau ke tu ke Manumalo / Fight, stand tall and be victorious

Ke Manumalo / Be victorious

Ke Manumalo / Be victorious

Ke Manumalo / Be victorious

_____

The piece that made me flip my shit when I read it was the confirmation that this song is a PRAYER

when I first heard this song before the movie I assumed it was a funeral rite. a dirge, followed by a choral revival. during the film, when maui and then the ancestors sang it over moana's lifeless body and I had no subtitles to go on, I thought perhaps it was a spell, or maybe a lullaby from Maui's far distant past, then taken up by the ancestors as a comfort to the grieving Maui- then back to the spell theory as Moana awoke to the powerful music and emotion channeled by tala and her crew.

even my first google translate search of the lyrics missed the word prayer, which goes to show that AI translation is no match for native human insight.

Maui's song being a prayer is a friggin big deal.

Maui's stories span the width & breadth of the pacific islands, and each culture arising from those island tells variations on that legend. some emphasize his rebellious side, others his inventiveness, still others his drive, his humor, his ingenuity, his pride. But a common theme in most is that this man, this demigod- he does NOT get along with the majority of his ancestors or the gods. Even when he's not outright malevolent to them, he's tricking them or undermining their effort. He's usually stubbornly self-sufficient, if he gets help from someone divine, its usually because he tricked them into doing it. Maui does not beg, he does not plead. (at least, not with any lasting sincerity). he's a charmer, a schemer.

But here he is, his tattoos stripped away, his hook gone, his beloved Moana growing colder and colder- he's out of tricks. he's out of time, out of power. he's as helpless as the day he was thrown into the ocean to save her. rock bottom, figuratively and literally.

he does the absolute last thing he can, born of pure desperation. pure grief, pure need. He prays.

he prays not expecting an answer. he prays, knowing that the gods and all his family would relish the chance to tell him to fuck all the way off. he prays, even if to no one but moana's lifeless body.

i often joke that maui is bad at feelings. but really what i mean is that maui is bad at regulating his feelings. he represses them as hard as he can, denies them, wraps them in humor and when that fails he straight up tries to out run them. its a maladaptive coping skill he's had to pick up over his immortal 3000 year lifespan because otherwise, he'd be wallowing in endless grief as friend after friend either dies or lives long enough to become his antagonist. boy has some serious trauma built up and no good examples of how to handle it in a healthy way.

until moana.

moana provided an example of how to be vulnerable without being weak. a safe space where he could share his heart and be met with understanding and validation. we see him mature, even fractionally, and in the sequel he's not nearly so closed off. he worries openly about moana, admits his concerns about the mission, even returns moana's favor from the first film and gives her a sincere, supportive pep talk.

but all his progress in processing his emotions seems to backfire in this moment. the first time he'd opened his heart to a fragile mortal friend and here he is, exactly as he feared, devastated at her passing. He had invested real time and care and attachment into this human and he's utterly shattered that its all coming to an end so fast. that he'll never experience her voice or her smile or her wit ever again.

she's precious to him. he cant bear to lose her. his sadness in more crushing than the ocean he's surrounded by, denser than the rock he kneels upon. even if he got his powers back, even if he pulled up a million islands, if Moana isn't there to land on them...there's no point.

less than 10 minutes ago he was ready to die for her.

3 minutes ago in movie time, maui faced his own mortality. powers stripped bare, down to his last ounce of strength, frying in impossible lightning heat, he kept struggling. the first look he gives moana is fear, raw and unfamiliar on that handsome face. but in this penultimate moment, his eyes meet moana's. his grimace gentles, eyebrows lift, gaze softens into a regretful, heart melting smile. he finds small comfort in seeing moana for one last time, seeing her unhurt, hearing her call his name. the rope slips from his grip, and somewhere in the milliseconds between lightning flashes, he relaxes, relief skitters across his features. perhaps he thinks "ahh, at least she's ok." "at least she'll outlive me". perhaps he has a moment of acceptance for his fate, knowing she's proud of him, knowing he did his very best. maybe he thinks ,"this way ill be sure to meet her again, in the afterlife. its for the best."

or maybe, just maybe, he thinks

"see you out there, moana."

but now, 3 minutes later, its once again the worst case scenario. any relief he had in that last smile at her is obliterated in the wake of his grief. its once again the worst case scenario. he's not thinking now of the curse being broken or his hook or his tattoos. a world that she's not in, whether he be human or demigod, is not a world he can stand to exist in. he cant do this without her. he needs her.

so he digs deep inside himself, through the pain or losing her, through his own family trauma and antagonism towards authority, and pride, to beg, on his knees for help from a higher power. its unclear to us if he's intending to pray to the gods or to his own ancestors or both or neither. to anyone who can help. to anyone who will listen.

and its neither of those sources who answer, at least, not as directly as matai vasa or tala do. its moana's kin, her loved ones, (eventually including the ocean), who answer from the great beyond. he looks them in the eyes and they weep with him. they sing power over moana and the impossible happens.

(salacious handholding occurs)

the stars are put back in maui's eyes, the sun back into his sky.

does this mean...

yes.

his tattoos are still cooler than hers.

even when theyre mad at him. (same, little guy, same.)

bruh.

now kiss

[cyber333angel]

MASTERLIST !

• OUTER BANKS •

jj maybank-

morning with jj drabble

mechanic!jj

sucking jj off

camboy!jj

eyes on me

periods with jj

overstimulating jj

jj mood board

seeing them off to work

sitting on jj’s face

rafe cameron -

frat!rafe mood board

spread your legs

size kink

rough!rafe + headlock

tapping out

making it up to you

rafe x reader x barry

step!bro rafe

needy for rafe

fluff/sitting on his lap

somno with rafe

stepbro!rafe who

hate sex with rafe

drugdealer!rafe

pretty pink butt plug

eyes on me

glasses kink with rafe

seeing them off to work

sugardaddy!rafe

rafe spanking you

water sports with rafe

older brothers best friend rafe

rafe x spoiled!reader x barry

rafe and barry putting it in at the same time

car s*x

john b. routledge-

john b asking care of sick!reader

pope heyward-

pope p*links

• WOLVERINE •

logan howlett -

logan x sweetheart!reader

always touching

more logan x farmersdaughter!reader

coquette!reader x logan moodboard

lumberjack!logan x farmersdaughter!reader

brushing logans hair

older!logan x girly!reader

somono with wolverine

older!logan x jamaican!reader

logan x drunk reader

older!logan x reader

brat tamer!logan

gothic girl x logan moodboard

minecraft with logan

dress to impress with logan

nsfw & sfw alphabet

hyperfem!reader x logan

lumberjack!logan x reader moodboard

p*links of logan pt2

p*links of logan + wade

want to hear you

step-dad!logan

logan x samoan!reader

website p*links

p*links of logan pt4

logan eating you out

logan x plus-size!reader

older!logan x latina reader

plushie

older!logan howlett x south asian!reader

girly reader x logan moodboard

blow off steam

baby with logan hc

dolled up for bedtime

p*links of logan pt3

• THE LAST OF US •

ellie williams-

ellie williams + her strap + praise

twitter p*links

abby anderson-

abby anderson + her fingers

twitter p*links

abby x virgin!reader

abby x housewife!reader

• ARCANE •

sevika-

sevika and kitties

twitter p*links

sevika + ice play

don’t move, hold still

sevika x camgirl!reader

more p*links part 2

violet-

don’t move, hold still

• VARIOUS ANIMES •

toji fushiguro-

dadsbestfriend!toji x virginblack!reader

toji mood board

toji taking care of sick!reader

riding toji

nanami kento-

nanami mood board

married!nanami x married!reader

• MISCELLANEOUS •

blackdolly!reader moodboard

richie fingering you

kenji sato fingering you

clark kent x reader

gambit p*links

p*rn links for various characters

nicholas chavez p*links