#t;solana

[tcemvns]

𝕙𝕗𝕣𝕡𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥 📧 solána

taemin: this is going to come across as such a ridiculous moment but i'm a fan. i mean, i find your work to be inspiring. now that we're passed that awkward moment, hi i'm taemin. taemin: i'm king of the dad jokes and probably the most gullible person you will ever meet. so you know, you could definitely tell me something silly and i would still believe you. i'm also terrible at introductions, just to keep things real. @sirowe

[the-red-mafia]

The Lost

The whole mafia expected Velvet to be upset following her mysterious conversation with Zaeor. What Maroon and Thorn didn't expect, though, was her running off to break into the B.A.D. mansion all on her own. The two scramble to follow them and the trio unite to search for answers within the walls of Velvet's childhood home. Also available on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/TheRedMafia Next Update: [Updated] Word Count: 5910

A day after “The Thief”

Maroon knocked on Velvet’s door for the third time, anxiety taking over them. 

“Velvet, I know you’re upset at Zaeor, but can you just let me know you’re okay?” they pleaded, “No one’s seen you since dinner last night.” The older teen had been locked in their room since they had gotten back from the UPS headquarters, only emerging after Zaeor had left to grab food. The god had returned about half an hour ago and seemed completely unbothered by her lack of presence. 

“They’re too frustrated to be useful right now,” he had told Maroon, “It’s one of their flaws.” Maroon had ascended the stairs anyway, and now stood in front of the closed, silent door. 

“Velvet, I really don’t want to do this. But I need to make sure you’re okay.” Maroon took a deep breath and grew a mushroom on the other side of the door. It fidgeted with the lock before a loud clicking sound echoed in the hallway. The teen opened the door, the mushroom melting back into the floorboards. 

The window across the room was open, letting in a cold breeze that sent goosebumps down their arm. The red and black comforter of her bed was still tucked in as if it hadn’t been touched in a few hours. Several empty energy drink cans sat on the bedside table. Maroon walked over to them, spotting a handwritten note set precariously on the edge. They picked it up.

Velvet’s handwriting, they thought, I can’t tell what it says. Maroon returned back to the doorway.

“Thorn, can you come up here?” they called out. Footsteps thudded against the stairs before the other teen appeared down the hallway. Their purple flannel matched Maroon’s sweater, which still made them smile slightly. Maroon took a deep breath. 

“Velvie giving you trouble?” He asked, smirking. 

“No, they’re not in here.” Thorn’s eyes widened.

“They’re not?” Maroon stepped out of the doorway, letting Thorn pass. Thorn looked around the room for a few moments. 

“Huh. Where’d she go then?” 

“That’s what I need your help with,” they replied, holding out the note, “I found this on the bedside table. Can you read it for me?” Their friend nodded, taking the small piece of paper. Ae looked at it for several seconds before shaking aer head.

“It’s in some other language. Latin, if I had to take a guess. I can’t read this.” 

“Try and read it out loud, then. I’ll translate.” Thorn let out a groan.

“Gods, I hate reading Latin.” Maroon chuckled and sat down on the perfectly made bed. Thorn sat down next to them.

“Here goes nothing,” Thorn mumbled, “‘Zaeor, apud Unorem consilium quaero.’” Maroon’s eyes widened. “She’s going to Unor’s base?” they breathed. “Noli sequi. Necesse est ut sōla id faciam. Te vocābō posteā’. And then they just signed their name.” Maroon’s heartbeat raced as they took the note from Thorn. The older teen looked up at them.

“So what are we doing?” it asked. Maroon was quiet for a moment.

“We’re going after them,” they said, standing, “They probably took the Umbrella, but we can take Rhyme’s ship.” Thorn nodded, standing as well. 

“I’ll go get the others. We can leave ASAP-” 

“No,” Maroon interrupted, “‘Non sequi’. She doesn’t want anyone to follow her.”

“I feel like what she wants doesn’t matter in this case,” Thorn muttered. Maroon brushed the comment off and turned to the door.

“The two of us will go. What if they’re in danger? We have to help.” 

“I mean, I’m with you on that part. Even if it’s Velvet,” Thorn began, “But I don’t know how comfortable I am with just taking Rhyme’s ship.” 

“I don’t see another option.” Thorn closed their eyes for several moments.

“Yeah, okay. If you’re sure. Let’s go.” 

Velvet looked up and down the hallway before sprinting into the next door. They shut the door quietly and took a deep breath.

Just a few more offices until his, she thought, Hopefully I can find something before then. They were picking up a folder off of the desk in front of them when a loud alarm began to blare. Velvet immediately set the folder down, but the sound continued. 

Trapped folder? What’s in here- She picked the folder up again when the door slammed open. Velvet quickly threw Kil-layye Mo’ore towards it before turning around. A familiar squeak hit her ears. 

“Maroon?” They breathed. Maroon waved slightly, standing up. The door shut, revealing Thorn behind it. 

“Oh it's our lucky day, huh?” the prince began, “She was behind the first door we checked.” Velvet balled their fists and glared at Thorn. 

“What the hell are you two doing here?” 

“We found your note,” Maroon answered. Velvet’s eyes widened. 

“What? It was in Latin, how’d you-” Velvet looked Maroon in the eyes, who tugged slightly on the sleeves of their red sweater. 

“How long have you been able to understand Latin?” the assassin demanded.

“About 500 years,” Maroon mumbled quietly. Velvet groaned loudly, summoning her sword back to her hand. 

“Of fucking course. Listen, I don’t know what you’re doing-”

“We wanted to make sure you’re okay,” Maroon began, “You were upset last night and then suddenly you’re breaking into B.A.D. and- I just wanted to help.” 

“And I’m here too,” Thorn added.

“Ugh, okay. But I don’t need your help. I’m fine on my own.” Maroon placed a hand on Velvet’s shoulder and smiled.

“I know. But this way, we can make sure.” Velvet looked them up and down before sighing. 

“Fine, whatever. Did you two set off the alarm?” Thorn sheepishly raised aer hand.

“That one’s my bad. I didn’t realise the cameras were on.” Velvet blinked a few times. 

“How…what? Why would they be off?” 

“I don’t know!” Velvet groaned again and sheathed Kil-layye Mo’ore. 

“You’re an idiot, frūx.”

“Hey, we’re here to sav-” Maroon cut them off.

“Is there any way to shut it off?” 

There’s an off switch in Unor’s office, but that’s way too far away to reach without getting caught right now. Where’s the other one… Velvet’s eyes widened and they quickly turned to the door. 

“Follow me. We’ve got to go visit my mom.”

Solana sat awkwardly at the breakfast table in between Mad and Rhyme, taking a bite of her eggs. Their companions refused to meet each other's eyes. Rhyme pushed his eggs back and forth on his plate while Mad looked towards the ceiling.

“So,” the elf tried, “Those kids, huh?” 

“Mhm,” Rhyme mumbled. Mad stayed silent. Solana waited a few moments before setting her fork down. 

“Rhyme, how far do you think they could’ve gotten?” Rhyme looked up at them. 

“If they figured out the boosters, they could be two galaxies away already.” Solana sighed. 

“Let’s hope Zaeor can find them soon, then.” Silence took over the room again. Mad eventually stood and took Solana’s empty plate. 

“I’m going to my room,” Mad stated. Solana quickly stood up and jumped over the counter, blocking its exit.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said, crossing his arms. Mad looked them up and down. 

“Do you need something, Solana?” 

“More like you two need to talk,” the elf replied, “Now sit your robot ass back down.” Mad sighed.

“Solana, it’s really none of your business-”

“It’s either I do this, or Velvet does it when the teens get back. And I think you’d prefer me.” The droid was silent for a moment before returning to their seat. Solana smiled and hopped back on the counter, taking a seat in the middle.

“So, are you two gonna be able to mediate yourselves like adults, or do I have to sit here?” Rhyme looked up at Mad, who looked away. Solana rolled his eyes.

“Sitting here it is then,” they crossed their right leg over their left, “What happened at Eliza’s?” 

“Solana, really? Everything is fine-”

“Clearly not, if Rhyme here got as upset as she did on the UPS mission.” Rhyme’s cheeks became a light pink and she sunk deeper into her seat. Mad looked at her.

“Rhyme? What are they talking about?” The thief took a deep breath.

“Mad, I’m really really sorry,” he blurted out, “I fucked up really bad and I hurt you and I’d take it back if I could but I can’t and I just…” His voice faded out.

“You just…?”��

“I…don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you. You’re…well…” The teen looked up at Solana, who motioned for her to continue. 

“You’re the only person who has cared about me in, god, 5 years?” He chuckled nervously, “You’re my only friend. I fucked up, I know that, and I’m sorry. And I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Because I don’t think I could handle losing you.” Mad was silent as it stared at him. The two made eye contact, or as much eye contact as they could considering one was a robot. A minute passed before Mad spoke. 

“Rhyme…” they began, “What you did…in front of me…it really fucked me up.” Solana’s eyes widened. 

I don’t think I’ve ever heard Mad curse before, they thought, glancing at Rhyme. The teen seemed to be having a similar thought. 

“I know, and I’m sorry-”

“I’m not done,” Mad interrupted, “I can’t look at you without seeing her bleeding out on the floor over and over again. My programming keeps analysing it, looking for some way for me to change it. But I can’t. And you can’t change what you’ve done.” Rhyme looked to the floor, but nodded. Solana frowned.

“Mad?” the elf asked. Mad groaned.

“Could you two let me finish my thought?” 

“Shit- sorry.” Mad sighed and stood up. It took Rhyme’s hand and pulled her up to her feet. Rhyme’s eyes widened as he looked at them. 

“As upset and…frustrated as I am about it, I think I’m more upset at the situation than you,” it mumbled, holding both of her hands, “I mean, I’m still upset, but I care about you too. And…I can’t lose you too.” Solana smirked. 

“S-so, do you forgive me?” Rhyme asked, the light pink returning to his face. Mad chuckled slightly.

“Yeah, I guess I do.” Rhyme smiled brightly and pulled them into a hug. 

And that’s how you do it, Solana thought, Damn, if only that worked on Velvet. My life would be so much easier. 

“Don’t do it again,” Mad added before glancing up at Solana, “But that’s the most genuine apology I’ve heard in my entire time being with the mafia.” The elf rolled their eyes. 

“Hey, don’t look at me. What do I have to apologise for?” 

“My screwdriver.” Rhyme suppressed a laugh while Solana glared at the robot. 

“I didn’t fucking take your screwdriver.”

“I don’t believe Velvet snuck past all four of us without help.” 

“She’s the best assassin in the universe, of course she can!” Rhyme finally couldn’t keep it in anymore and broke out in loud laughter. 

“Have you seen her?” Rhyme pushed their face into Mad’s shirt to muffle her laughter. Mad stared down at him, wide eyes taking over the previously blank screen. Solana raised an eyebrow and jumped to the other side of the counter. 

“I think that’s my cue to go,” she said, gesturing to the door, “I’ll go check on Wyatt.”

“Solana-” The elf sprinted to the stairs, leaving the two of them in the kitchen alone.

 

Nala took a deep breath as she ran a brush through her hair. She pulled a section in front of her shoulder and stared into the mirror on her vanity. She was halfway through braiding it when there was a knock at the door. Nala frowned and checked her watch.

Unor’s not supposed to be here until 11:30, she thought, It’s only 10. 

“Who is it?” She called out. 

“Tua fīlia, mater,” A familiar voice answered. Nala’s eyes went wide. 

“Velvet?” She breathed. She quickly stood and opened the door, revealing her 15-year-old daughter in front of her. Two of her teammates, Maroon and Thorn if she remembered correctly, stood behind her. Nala pulled Velvet into a big hug. 

“Oh, Velvet,” she breathed, hugging her tightly. 

“Hi Mom. Can we come in?” Nala let go and smiled. 

“Of course.” The teens entered the room, Velvet shutting the door behind her.

“Hey Velvet’s mom,” The redhead, Thorn, said. Nala waved at him. 

“Hello, Thorn was it?” The teen nodded, so Nala turned to the other one, “And you’re Maroon?” 

“Mhm,” Maroon answered. She smiled.

“It’s lovely to see you two again. How have you been?”

“Good-” Velvet walked to the other side of the room, where a large computer set up sat. Nala looked at her daughter.

“What are you doing, Velvet?”

“Shutting down the alarm, give me a sec.” Nala frowned. 

“You set off an alarm?” Velvet groaned.

“No, those asinī did.” 

Asinī? I don’t think I know that one.

“Well I’m sorry I don’t know the entire B.A.D. mansion by heart,” Thorn apologised sarcastically, “I didn’t grow up here.”

“I didn’t fucking ask you to come-”

“Language,” Nala corrected. Velvet groaned.

“Sorry, mom. I didn’t ask you two to follow me. In fact, I think I explicitly said don’t.” 

“In our defence, you told Zaeor not to follow you,” Maroon chimed in. Velvet turned and glared at them. 

“‘Cause I was under the impression no one else spoke Latin. I guess I’m learning a lot today.” Nala chuckled and stood next to Velvet in the chair. The teen typed quickly and eventually got into the main security system. She paused on the screen for a few seconds.

“Left side, dear,” Nala stated. Velvet pressed the button and the bright ‘System Normal’ status blinked green. 

“Thanks, mater.” She clicked out of the security but pulled up the files application.

“What are you three doing here anyway?” Nala asked, turning to look at Thorn and Maroon as well, “And why didn’t you want your teammates to come with you?”

“Because she’s an angsty bitch,” Thorn mumbled. 

“Language.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Bolton.” Nala chuckled.

“Please, just Nala.”

“I’m looking into some information about something we found at a UPS headquarters. Do you know anything about Unor going to the station on Kenip?” Nala thought for a moment.

“I know he went there, but I’m not sure what for. I think it was just a routine drop-off he wanted to go on.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Velvet mumbled, “What about December 9th? Have you heard anything about something then?” At the same time, they typed the date into the search bar.

“That’s the day of our winter fundraiser.”

“Fundraiser?” Thorn asked, “Aren’t you guys like, rich?” Maroon put a hand on Thorn’s shoulder.

“Thorn-” Nala laughed and waved a hand.

“It’s alright, Maroon. It’s a fundraiser for a missing kid organisation, part of my plan to improve B.A.D.’s public image. It was also originally planned to help look for Velvet, but…” she gestured to Velvet, who rolled her eyes. 

“That’s sweet, how you never gave up looking for her,” Maroon said, smiling, “From the way Velvet used to talk about her parents, I thought you two didn’t get along.” Nala frowned and looked down at her daughter. Velvet, however, turned to glare at Maroon.

“I never said that.”

“I know. I just thought since you hated Unor so much-” Velvet looked back at the screen. 

“She’s just as much of a victim as we are.” 

“...we?” Maroon looked towards the floor, and Thorn took their hand. 

“That’s actually another thing I should look for,” Velvet mumbled under her breath. They typed Maroon’s name into the search bar.

“Velvet, that’s not what we came for,” Thorn said, “We don’t need to-”

“Shut it, Thorn.” The screen loaded for a moment before a grey ‘No Results’ tab popped up. Velvet sighed. 

“That’s about what I expected. Maroon, what was the name on the folder again?” 

“Project Rapio.” Nala paused.

“Now that name I’ve heard before,” she stated. Velvet looked up at her.

“What do you know?” 

“It’s been Unor’s new project for the past few weeks,” Nala sat down on her bed, “He didn’t tell me much, just that he would be redirecting resources to it for the next few weeks.”

“So the folder was right,” Velvet breathed. 

“What folder?” Velvet stood and turned to her teammates. 

“I have to search Unor’s office. Are you two coming with me?” Nala grabbed her wrist.

“Now wait just a second, young lady,” she said. Velvet looked at her.

“What, mater?” 

“First, drop the attitude. That’s no way to talk to your mother.” Thorn stifled a laugh as Velvet broke her wrist out of Nala’s grip.

“Sorry.”

“Secondly, Unor’s in a meeting there right now. You’d get caught immediately.” Velvet groaned.

“Do you know when he’ll be done?”

“11. Then he’s meeting me here at 11:30 so we can go make plans for the fundraiser.” Velvet mumbled something that Nala couldn’t make out. Maroon took her hand, drawing her attention. 

“We could stay in here until she leaves with him?” they asked, turning to Nala, “If you’re okay with that, Nala.” She smiled.

“Of course I’m okay with that. I’d never pass up a chance to hang out with my lovely daughter.” She pulled Velvet into another hug, one that she tried to wrestle out of this time. Nala won out, of course. She always did. 

“So, uh,” Mad began, looking down at Rhyme, “What was Solana talking about with the mission yesterday?” Rhyme lifted his head to look at the ground.

“Oh- uh- that was nothing.” 

“I can’t help but think that’s a lie.” 

“It’s not!” Rhyme said quickly, looking up at them, “I was just overwhelmed and thought you hated me.” 

“You know I can just text Maroon and ask, right?” Rhyme let out a strained laugh.

“Maroon won’t respond, they’re avoiding us.” Mad’s screen displayed a smirk.

“Maybe they’re ignoring you.” Rhyme narrowed her eyes. 

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“Maybe,” it said, “Maybe they talked to me before they left and I told them how to fly your ship.”

“Mad!” The droid laughed. 

“Why would you do that?” Rhyme demanded, “Where are they going, anyhow?” 

“That part they didn’t tell me. They just said Velvet ran off and they wanted to go after her. So I told them.” 

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t just tell them to take all of us,” Rhyme replied. 

“They said Velvet had said she didn’t want to be followed. I figured they could handle it.”

“But my baby-” Mad laughed again as Rhyme fake-pouted. 

“Your baby will be fine,” Mad replied.

“Well yeah, you’re right here,” Rhyme mumbled. Mad looked down at her.

“What was that?” Rhyme’s heartbeat raced and he blushed.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” Rhyme looked down at her hands, still in Mad’s. He quickly pulled them back and stuffed them into his pockets. Mad pulled out their phone and quickly typed a message. After a few seconds, it beeped. 

“Oh, they found Velvet. They’re with them and their mom now.” 

“Nala’s in on it?” Rhyme asked, “I shouldn’t be surprised, actually. She was the nicer of the two.” Mad nodded.

“I think she’s one of the only people I’ve heard Velvet talk about positively.” Another ding and a smirk appeared on Mad’s screen.

“Maroon said whatever you said yesterday was important.” Rhyme’s heart skipped a beat.

Dammit, Maroon. Fucking traitor. 

“I don’t think so,” Rhyme replied, crossing her arms. 

“Hold on, they just texted what you said.” Rhyme jumped forward, knocking the phone out of the droid's hand. Rhyme tripped over Mad’s foot, falling onto Mad. The two landed on the ground, Mad laughing loudly. Rhyme glared at the phone. 

“I was joking, Rhyme, I didn’t even ask them. I was just getting an update,” Mad said, looking up at her. Rhyme switched his glare to them.

“Scared the shit outta me, strange robot.” 

“Although, I might text them about it now considering that’s how you’re reacting.” Rhyme held Mad’s shoulders down and shook his head. 

“Can’t do that if I keep you here away from your phone.” 

“Are you sure about that?” Mad chuckled, “Rhyme, I’m a robot.” 

“Shit.” Mad laughed again, a bright smile appearing on their screen. 

“I’m just kidding. Maroon probably wouldn’t tell me, anyway.” Rhyme sighed, taking her hands off Mad’s shoulders.

“Good.”

“I am curious, though,” Mad added, “You don’t have to tell me, but I do wanna know.” 

“Maybe I’ll tell you. Eventually.” Mad displayed the eyes emoji, which promptly spun around. Rhyme stared at it before breaking out into laughter.

“What?” The droid asked. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Rolling my eyes.” That response only made the thief laugh harder. She set her forehead on their chest while she laughed. 

“Who…who told you to do that?” he asked through laughs. 

“Thorn. Why, does it look stupid?” Rhyme shook his head.

“No. Never stop doing that.” Mad shrugged as the thief sat up.

“If you say so.” The two looked at each other for a few moments. Mad’s screen changed to a smile, causing Rhyme to frown. It switched to a question mark.

“What’s wrong?”

“What did I just say?” Mad’s screen went blank.

“Huh? Oh- you meant-” Rhyme laughed again, shaking her head.

“No, I’m kidding.” Mad’s screen displayed the rolling eyes again anyways.

“Better?” it asked. 

“Better.” Mad laughed before looking Rhyme in the eyes.

“Can I stand up now?” Rhyme’s face went bright red and he quickly scrambled to get off of the droid. 

“Sorry-” 

“It’s okay. Are you gonna finish your breakfast?” Mad asked, gesturing to the full plate. 

“Right, yeah. Kinda got interrupted during that, huh?”

“That would mean you actually started eating.” Rhyme’s eyes widened. 

“I thought you weren’t looking at me earlier?” Mad shook their TV.

“My camera was looking at you, the TV wasn’t.”

“‘Course, how silly of me.” Mad nodded as the thief sat down at the table. It joined her, this time sitting to her right. Rhyme smiled and took a bite.

“How is it?” 

“Perfect,” Rhyme answered.

Just like you.

Velvet led the way down the hallway, Thorn and Maroon following behind. Nala had cleared out the area a few minutes before, but Velvet had Kil-layye Mo’ore drawn anyway. They passed down a set of brown double doors with several stickers on it. Thorn looked at them: a rainbow, stars, and the letter c sat in the middle. It looked like there were more letters, but they had fallen off. 

“What’s in there?” Thorn asked. Velvet didn’t even turn around to look at the door before responding.

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” 

“Drop it, frūx,” Velvet hissed. The prince put their hands up. 

“Right, got it.” The trio walked for another minute before Velvet stopped in front of another set of double doors. These ones were blank, and a deeper brown than the other ones. Velvet took a deep breath. 

“We’re here.” Maroon looked down at her. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with this, Velvet?”

“Of course I’m fucking not. But we don’t have a choice, now do we?” 

“I’m sure we could figure something else out. We could ask Nala-” 

“No,” Velvet stated coldly, “She’s endangered herself enough today. I’m not letting her get hurt again. Let’s just get this over with.” Maroon frowned as Velvet pushed the big doors open, Kil-layye Mo’ore raised. They creaked slightly but revealed an office with a large black desk ordained with various trinkets and papers. A laptop sat on top of it, open. There were three chairs around the desk: one on the side of the laptop and two with their backs towards the door. 

Paintings lined the walls depicting old buildings and other people, presumably older members of the Bolton family considering their similarity to Velvet. The walls were a deep, blood red with black sigils lining the middle. Thorn pointed them out.

“Any idea what those say?” He asked out loud. 

“Don’t look at them for too long. They’re a form of security.” Thorn quickly looked away.

“Unor’s got a lot of magic access for a mortal,” ae mumbled. 

“It’s really not that surprising. He’s not that far off from becoming a fake god.” That sentence caused Maroon and Thorn to stop dead in their tracks. 

“...what?” Maroon breathed. Velvet turned back to look at them. Her red hair fell out of the clip, so she adjusted it while she talked. 

“You didn’t know?”

“I think you conveniently forgot to mention that part,” Thorn replied through gritted teeth. Velvet just shrugged. 

“Well now you know.” 

“What do you mean ‘not that far off’?” Maroon asked. Velvet sat down in the main desk chair and typed something into the laptop.

“Same fucking password, what a fucking idiot,” they mumbled, “I mean he’s not far off. He’s got four and a half of the five souls he needs, so he’s almost there.” 

“Souls?” Thorn demanded, “How exactly does one become a fake god?” Velvet groaned.

“Did I really forget to explain this?” 

“I wouldn’t be asking otherwise.”

“I don’t know, you’re you,” the assassin mumbled, “To become a fake god, someone needs to collect one soul of each type. Unor’s got four and a half.” Maroon took a step forward. 

“Half?” Velvet refocused on the laptop, typing more into the keyboard. Maroon opened their mouth to say something more but stayed quiet. 

“Damn it, this is wiped clean,” they mumbled, “It’s almost like…” Thorn stared at her.

“If you say what I think you’re going to say, Velvie…”

“He knows we’re here,” Maroon said in a small voice. Velvet quickly stood from the chair and joined the duo.

“How could he know we’re here?” Thorn asked, “There’s no way.”

“He must have found out about the UPS break-in and put two and two together,” Velvet answered. They pushed the doors open again, this time a loud alarm blaring again. 

“So that whole planning thing with Nala was bullshit?” 

“Maybe not. I hope it wasn’t. I hope he’s not here and is just hoping his guards will be able to capture us.” 

“The guards that are also him,” Thorn muttered. Velvet nodded and stepped out into the hallway, making a run for it back where they came. The other two quickly followed.

“If we can get back to Nala’s room, could we-” 

“Too dangerous,” Velvet interrupted Maroon, “There’s another security panel in the library, but that’s way further. I don’t know if we’ll make it.”

“And there’s no chance they’re gonna fall for the false alarm from Nala for a second time,” Thorn added. Velvet nodded. Footsteps began thudding behind them, voices shouting in various languages Thorn didn’t know. Velvet glanced backward.

“One of you, make a wall.” Thorn obliged, a wall of vines growing and blocking the hallway behind them. They added a horizontal layer as well, just in case. In front of them, a large metal door slammed shut. Velvet quickly stopped in their tracks, breathing heavily.

“Fuck,” they said. 

“W-what’s that mean?” Maroon asked. 

“Full lockdown’s been activated. We can’t get out that way. Or any way, for that matter.” 

“Then what’s the plan?” Thorn demanded. Velvet glared at him.

“I’m fucking working on it, Thorn.” The voices behind the vine wall grew louder as Velvet scanned the hallway. A few feet ahead stood the sticker-covered doors once again. The assassin’s eyes locked on it right as Thorn’s did.

 

Maroon looked at their two friends as they both looked ahead. They followed their gaze to the door from earlier, the one Velvet had dismissed. 

“Fuck, okay,” she breathed, running forward. Maroon and Thorn followed. Velvet slowed in front of them and carefully tried the doorknob. The door gave way, warm sunlight fading in from the large bay window on the opposite side of the room. Maroon glanced at Velvet, who had her eyes closed tight. She took a deep breath and, once Maroon and Thorn were inside, shut the door. 

The room was well-lit from the window alone, a pair of blue curtains hanging from the rod above them. The right corner had a large canopy bed, decorated with blue and purple bedsheets. There were four pillows on top and an extra blanket folded neatly at the end. Pictures of butterflies and various star systems sat above the bed, forming a star. 

A large rug was in the middle, a blue flower. The opposite side of the room from the bed had a desk with a textbook open on top of it. The chair was pushed in and a layer of dust had begun to form on the pages. A closet was pushed up against the wall the door was on, slightly ajar. 

Velvet slowly turned around, taking in the scene. Maroon watched as they walked towards the window. 

“Who’s room is this?” Thorn asked, crossing his arms. Velvet sat down at the window, looking out. Maroon walked towards the open textbook. 

“This is- was. This was a friend of mine’s bedroom.” Maroon looked down at the book, wiping the dust off. There sat a name.

“Caran?” Maroon read, “Oh…that’s who Caran was.” Velvet nodded, standing again. 

“Try not to touch anything, okay?” Maroon wiped their hand on their trousers. Velvet joined them at the desk and glanced down at the book. 

“‘Course that’s what he was reading,” they mumbled. Maroon looked down at them.

“What is it?” 

“Algebra.” 

“What’s…algebra?” Velvet stared at them for a few seconds.

“I’ll let Mad handle that one.” Maroon nodded but kept their eyes on Velvet. The assassin slowly opened a drawer and their eyes widened. 

“Jackpot,” they breathed. They pulled out a laptop, similar to the one from Unor’s office. They sat down back at the window and opened it up. Maroon sat next to them and Thorn joined on the other side of Maroon. 

“His laptop?” Thorn asked, “How’s that gonna help?” 

“Unor’s not going to limit a dead person’s access to classified documents. That’s his one weakness: he’s cocky. He killed someone, so there’s no point controlling what they can see.” Maroon’s heart skipped a beat.

“He killed Caran?” Maroon asked.

“Of course he fucking did. Are you even surprised?” 

“...no.” Velvet typed in another passcode and smirked. 

“And we’re in. Project Rapio…” They clicked on a file and quickly scanned it. 

“That looks like the one we found at the UPS,” Maroon commented. Velvet nodded. 

“It is.”

“Anything new?” Thorn asked. Velvet closed the document and opened up the next. 

“I’m looking, give me a minute.” Thorn looked around Maroon to read the screen.

“That’s in English?”

“Yeah. It must be the memo he sent to the lower-ranking operatives. They typically can’t read Latin.” Thorn was quiet for a moment before his eyes widened. 

“Unor’s trying to capture us for one of our souls?” it exclaimed. Velvet slammed the laptop closed and stood. 

“We should get out of here,” she mumbled, “We’ll have to break the window.” Maroon glanced at Thorn, who was staring at Velvet.

“Velvet, did I read that right?”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about, Thorn.”

Soul? If he already has 4 and a half, why would he want… their eyes locked on Velvet, Oh. 

“Velvet, that half a soul Unor has,” Maroon said quietly, “It’s yours, isn’t it?” Velvet turned back to glare at them.

“So what if it is? It doesn’t change anything.” 

“Oh my gods,” Maroon breathed, “Velvet, I’m so sorry-”

“Is that why you’re so…you?” Thorn asked. Maroon stared down at them.

“Thorn-”

“What? That was the nicest way I could think of.” 

“Just fucking drop it, will you?” Velvet demanded, “It’s not that big of a deal.” She jumped onto the window seat and drew Kil-layye Mo’ore, using the hilt to break the glass. Maroon and Thorn quickly moved out of the way. 

“It is a big deal, though. You’re missing half of your soul, your personality, your…emotions.” Maroon let the last word hang in the air as Velvet sheathed her sword again. Thorn looked between Maroon and Velvet.

“So all this time, I’ve been calling you a bitch for ignoring your emotions,” the prince began, “But you haven’t been. You just haven’t had emotions?” 

“I’m done talking about this with you two. Just forget you ever figured this out, okay?” 

“Velvet, stop.” Maroon grabbed their wrist, forcing them to look back at them. 

“What do you want, fungus?” 

“How long has your soul been broken?” Velvet groaned.

“Are we really going to do this?” 

“The quicker you answer our questions, the quicker we can leave,” Thorn added. Velvet glanced at each of them before sighing.

“Fine. Since shortly after my 14th birthday.” 

Nearly two years, Maroon thought, Dear Ailuj-

“Does Zaeor know?” Velvet scoffed.

“Of course he fucking knows. He’s what stopped him from taking the whole thing.” Maroon’s eyes widened. 

“So that’s what you meant,” Thorn said. The two of them looked towards him.

“What?”

“You keep saying that he saved your life. I thought that was after you started working for him, but it's why you’re working for him.” Velvet rolled her eyes.

“That’s what you choose to focus on?”

She’s been like this since before the mafia was formed. How did no one notice?

“I don’t control where my brain goes, Velvie.”

Does anyone in the mafia know? We…we could’ve…I could’ve…

“Do not fucking call me that, especially-”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Maroon blurted out. Velvet turned to them.

“What do you mean?”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone? Me, Mad, anyone. We could’ve helped you sooner.” Velvet narrowed their eyes at them.

“Because there’s no way to help me, Maroon.” The youngest teen’s heart skipped a beat again as they looked at her. 

“There has to be something.”

“There’s not, Zaeor’s checked. I’m stuck like this for the rest of my life.”

“Fuck, that’s morbid,” Thorn muttered. Velvet sent a glare aer way. 

“So is my entire life. Get used to it.” 

“What if Unor was dead?” Maroon asked. The two teens refocused on them, Thorn’s eyes wide.

“What are you talking about, Maroon?” Thorn asked. 

“If Unor was dead, wouldn’t all the souls be released? Couldn’t you get it back then?” Velvet frowned.

“In theory, but there’s no guarantee-”

“But it’s possible?”

“Maroon, are you saying we should-” Velvet cut Thorn off.

“Yeah, I guess it’s possible.”

If killing Unor could fix Velvet’s soul…after everything he’s done, what’s stopping us?

“Then let’s attack Unor first,” Maroon stated, “We’ve been on the defensive this whole time. The day he’s actually planning on attacking us, we attack first. Stage a full assault on this base. Take it over and end this.” Velvet stared at Maroon for several moments. Thorn took their hand but Maroon didn’t take their eyes off of the assassin in front of them. 

“You’re right,” Velvet finally replied, “That’s what we’ll do.” Maroon took a deep breath and nodded. 

“Mushroom, are you sure you want to-”

“Yes. I’m sure.” Velvet held a hand out to Maroon and the three teens stood on the windowsill. Thorn had a concerned look on his face as he stared at Maroon. 

“One of you want to make something to get us down?” Velvet asked. A giant mushroom sprouted from the ground, stopping right in front of them. Maroon led the way onto the pileus.

It’s time to end this.

[trippinsorrows]

my all + oneshot

authors note: this is all deranged, dysfunctional, toxic, and unhealthy. i condone none of the shit ya'll are about to read. none. inspired by this ask.

words: 8.7k

song inspo: 'my all' by mariah carey. because solana is just as down bad as mariah was singing this shit about a young derek jeter.

warnings: smut, violence, some angst. age gap relationship (10 years). a bit of a daddy kink. breeding kink. blink and you'll miss it cum play. toxic relationship. rough sex. roman is dominant and possessive. solana is passive and a bit of a nympho for him.

Solana Miller knew the minute she laid eyes on Roman Reigns that he would be trouble. Without even knowing his story, his case, or the reason he was serving a 10 year sentence, she just knew he would be a problem for her. 

It started with the first man that he sent to her infirmary. Badly beaten. Multiple cracked ribs. A ruptured kidney. Eyes swollen shut. 

The reason for the vicious attack?

Because he could.

The man ended up needing care beyond what Solana could provide, hence being transferred to the main hospital.

And that was just one of several. Over the course of four weeks, several men who found themselves on Roman Reigns' bad side—if a good one even exists—laid on her bed. Bloody, beaten, unconscious. The more inmates she saw, the more severe the beatings. His cruelty seemed to know no limits.

And, Roman himself wasn't even the one who'd caused such mayhem. He had people working for, and inmates doing his dirty work for him. Even behind bars, he was still running shit.

It was the final inmate to need intense, urgent medical care beyond her clinic that Solana had to ask, had to inquire as to why. The how this kept happening. How Reigns hadn’t earned himself at least a good month or two of solitary confinement.

The answer?

“He’s untouchable.”

That was the only answer she received from her direct supervisor, the medical director of the prison, Dr. Trish Stratus.

And, it made sense. Because one look at Roman and one just knows he’s bad news, anyone who’s anyone knows exactly who Roman Reigns is.

The Tribal Chief. 

The Head of the Table.

The Capo.

He has many names, many titles, but all lead to one thing.

Danger.

Roman Reigns is the personification of danger.

The feared, brutal leader of two of the biggest crime syndicates in the world. His stint in federal prison only occurring due to betrayal from within his inner circle and a freshly appointed DA who thought he was hot shit by bringing down “The Big Dog.”

Solana knows it’s only a matter of time before he “mysteriously” disappears. Any sign or trace of him most likely to be found in the form of scattered body parts. If anything at all is to be left. 

Just like she knows it’s only a matter of time before Roman is someway, somehow released. A man as powerful as him can only be kept in chains for so long.

It'd been a little over a month since Solana first locked eyes with Roman Reigns in passing as he was being escorted to his cell. A brief, powerful, memorable thing. The faintest hint of a smirk on his handsome face as she redirected her gaze to her shoes.

Avoid.

Solana was determined to avoid him at all cost.

A difficult, almost impossible thing to do when one day she walked into work to find him sitting on the patient bed in her room, waiting for her almost, wearing a smug expression. 

The reason for his presence?

“Said his chest was hurting.”

Solana had never felt so disgusted with a person before when she received that bullshit answer from the guard. The guard who not only left her alone with Reigns, door closed, left him alone, completely unshackled. No cuffs on his wrists.

It was….unnerving, to say the least.

She’d heard the gory tales of his brutality. Knew what he was capable of. And, she’d been left alone with him. 

Wonderful.

Solana swallowed, doing her best to show no fear as she placed her bag on the hook behind the door. “Take your shirt off for me.” She issued her command while washing her hands, taking longer than what was necessary, already knowing she was bound to be distracted by the sight of such a man shirtless.

And, damn, was she correct.

Roman sat, still smug, shirtless, rippling muscles on full display. His tattoos, almost entirely tribal in nature, decorating half his body. A beautifully sculpted body.

Solana’s resolve had never been tested as much as it was in that awful moment.

“What’s your name, pretty girl?” It was the first thing she heard him say, the deep timbre of his baritone voice shaking her in an unsettling way.

Solana managed to avoid eye contact, drying her hands and answering. “Solana.” Throwing the used paper towels away, she added, “you can call me Nurse Miller.”

Roman shook his head, a teasing smile growing. “I like pretty girl better.” Fuck. “What’s a nice, young thing like you doing working in a place like this?”

“What are your symptoms?” She asked, somehow, someway maintaining professionalism despite the burning of her cheeks. She’d never been spoken to so boldly. 

Roman’s gaze was assessing, causing Solana to suddenly regret bypassing picking up a new set of scrubs. Having gained some weight over the past few months, she found her work uniform a little too snug in all the places one wouldn’t want attention in. The same places his eyes seemed to focus on. “You’re too innocent to be here.” He spoke, proudly and easily not answering her questions. “Too pretty. Too damn fine.”

Solana cleared her throat. “Mr. Reigns—”

“Roman,” he interrupted. “Call me Roman.”

Oh, fuck.

Solana’s suddenly shaky hands moved to grab the stethoscope off the counter as she walked over to him, managing a quiet, “just relax.” The same advice she tried to tell herself in being so close to him, the scent of his cologne, strong and masculine, just as distracting as his perfect face and body. Solana assessed his vital signs, hearing nothing abnormal. 

Clearing her throat, she moved to step away only for him to grab her. She froze as he tugged her in between his spread legs.

Her stomach dropped. “Mr. Rei—”

“Shhhh.” His index finger moved against her lips. “Roman.” He corrected once more, just as his eyes lowered to her chest. His tongue dipped out, licking his bottom lip. Solana utilized all sense of self-control to keep her thighs from clamping together from such an innocent act. 

Eyes never leaving her, he stood up, slowly. The height difference between them enough to make her head crane back to maintain that contact. Why she would even want to maintain it? She hadn’t the slightest clue. 

Solana’s mouth went dry as Roman grabbed his orange discarded shirt, laying it on his muscled forearm. She went to back away, the distance between them too suffocating, too cumbersome. 

But, the minute she did, his hand was on the small of her back, holding her, keeping her near him. 

Her eyes shut when he lowered his head, mouth near her ear. “I’ll see you around, pretty girl.”

A whispered promise followed by a light slap of her ass before he separated from her, walking out the door without another word.

—------

Solana would love to say that was the one and only time that happened. 

But, that would be a lie.

A big, fat lie, because that man earned himself an undeserved visit to her medical bay more often than any other patient she’d ever had. And not once did he come with any medical necessity. His reason always the same. 

“I wanted to see you.”

To her credit, she tried her best to maintain those boundaries. Corrected him every time he called her “pretty girl.” Ignored him whenever he made an inappropriate comment or innuendo about her body. Avoiding him seeing the blush on her cheek when he referred to indecent acts.

She truly did her best, but with each visit, her resolve crumbled. A straight face slipped into a small, shy smile. Physically assessing him with her hands, while limited to the usual, medically approved checkpoints, shifted into something else. When he grabbed her wrist and slid her palm over his heart, it rested there for longer than what was necessary. 

The personal questions he asked shifted from being ignored into being answered, though some information was omitted.

And, the physical distance she did her best to keep between them minimized with each encounter. He was breaking her, and he knew it.

She thought of going to Stratus. Even briefly considered asking for a transfer. But, something about it, something about him, prevented her from doing so. Prevented her from putting an end to it all, because another part of her, a stupid, naive part liked it.

She liked the attention he gave her.

She liked him.

And almost a month into this game of cat or mouse, it all came to a head. 

—----

It was the usual routine of him lying and forcing his way into her space, but the air about it was different. It felt different. 

Right away, she knew he had other intentions.

Roman’s big body eclipsed her last glimpse of the door closing, the two guards outside of the room instead of one inside and one outside, as protocol dictated. 

A protocol that’d been disregarded from the moment he stepped foot into her infirmary.

But, instead of sitting on the bed as usual, he remained standing. Nearing her, watching and studying her.

Nothing but lust and desire dancing in his beautiful eyes. 

Solana swallowed, partially already knowing what was about to happen.

Didn’t stop her from asking.

“What—what are you doing?” A question that should have been laced with fear and concern. Roman is a monster. A cold-blooded killer whose ledger is soaked and dripping with blood. 

He was also standing directly in front of her. 

He said nothing at first, head tilted as he effectively backed her against the patient bed. Solana’s ass bumped into the end of said bed, preventing her from going anywhere. He had her boxed in. 

“Giving you exactly what you want.”

His answer was hard enough to process, followed by his big hands reaching down and grabbing her, lifting and placing her onto the edge of said bed. Solana gasped, going to scold him, “Mr. Reigns, this is inap—”

“Shut up.”

Solana would be lying if she tried to deny she hadn’t thought of what it would be like to kiss Roman. A monster he may be, but ugly, he most certainly is not. Visually speaking, tall, strong, dark, and handsome, he checks off every single box a woman could be looking for.

Except, she didn't push him off when he smashed his lips onto hers. Didn’t shove him away and scream for help, for one of the guards to restrain him and keep him away from her.

She pulled him closer, ignoring the smirk of his full lips into their passionate kiss. A kiss she found herself not wanting to end as he shoved his tongue into her mouth the same way he’d shoved himself into her life. Without request and without protest.

Solana moaned when his hands moved down to squeeze her breast, his thumb peppering over her hardened nipples that felt brick solid, poking against the fabric of her scrubs. 

Her attraction for him and enjoyment in their passionate make out couldn’t be denied even if she tried. So much so that she doesn’t bat an eye when that same hand previously groping her big breast jumped down to start tugging her pants off. 

Solana moaned into the kiss, as Roman expertly rid her of her scrubs, ripping them past her sneakers, that he also removed, all items discarded onto the floor. He pried his mouth from hers, full lips swollen, pink tongue darting out and glossing over his bottom lip. 

“Lay back.”

Two words. A single command. One response.

Never mind the consequences, the repercussions, the career ending outcome that could stem from such a major fuck up. A mishap or mistake were too watery of terms to use. Too downplaying of what should easily be the biggest regret of her life, because so much, all, stands to be lost with just one knock or entrance of the right—or wrong—person.

Fraternizing with the prisoners was one thing, but sexual conduct with said prisoners was entirely different.

Solana could lose her job, could lose her license, could lose everything she’s worked so hard for.

And, yet none of that prevented her from doing a damn thing to stop this man. 

Solana laid back on the patient bed, sitting up and resting her weight on her elbows as she watched him drop to his knees before her. Heart rate erratic, she lifted her hips just enough when he started tugging down her underwear. As expected, they were thrown to the wayside, just as her pants and shoes were. 

An inconvenient obstacle preventing him from his destination. 

His warm eyes lifted to hers at the same time he grabbed her by her calves, forcing her down on the bed and right onto his waiting mouth.

“Oh, fuck!”

Solana had always enjoyed this part of sex. Tried to enjoy it, at least. Consistent good head had always been hard to come across. It’d be great at first and lackluster every time after. Or, the usual of way too much theatrics and not enough actual performance.

None of that was the case with the man before her. 

Roman didn’t ease into anything. It seemed like a trait that felt applicable across several areas of his life. Including with sex. Because, he ate her pussy with a ravenous, carnal, sinful need. The sounds of him sucking and licking on her clit battling with the moans that left her mouth and the withering of her body on the bed. 

The minute his thick, talented tongue circled her sensitive nub, Solana was off her elbows and on her back, head reclined from the delicacy of his exquisite mouth on her most sacred parts. 

“Oh my God.”

Solana was too caught up in the bliss of it all to care when he pulled back, humming almost. “That’s it, sweetheart.” He brought his fingers to toy with her arousal, thick finger teasing her tight hole. “Fuck my face.”

It was only then Solana realized how her body moved against him, how one hand fisted in his hair, holding him right where she wanted him. To stay.

Forever.

“Shit, Roman,” she cursed when he went back to work, sucking and kissing her pussy like it was the best thing he’d ever been blessed to experience. “Don’t—don’t stop.”

He moaned against her, hands moving under her ass, tugging her even closer. Solana cried out from the euphoria of it all, continuing to grind against him, an eager, needy nympho for his fix. 

And, he continued to provide it, continuing to grace and grant her with a level of delight she never knew possible. Roman ate her out within an inch of her life, Solana’s attempts to pry him off her only met with him forcing her hands away, further burying his face into her safe haven. He continued to torture her, never retracting or stopping, even as her orgasm coursed through her, practically knocking the wind out of her.

Never in her life had she come so hard. 

Or so much. 

She was a discombobulated mess, the only thing pulling her from that post orgasmic daze was the sight of Roman lowering his orange pants and black boxers, freeing what had to be the biggest dick—outside of porn—that she’d ever seen.

The excitement and libido was momentarily altered by an understandable amount of trepidation.

“I—” Solana wasn’t quite sure how to say it, especially as he rubbed the massive mushroom head of his equally massive sized cock against her slippery, wet folds. “It’s—it’s not going to fit.”

She knew this well. Basic science and common sense. Maybe some fear as well.

A lot of fear.

There’s no way he could get that inside of her. Not without her landing in someone’s emergency room from vaginal tearing. If not worse.

But, her apprehension didn’t extend to him. Roman smirked in response to her overt concern. “Yes, it will.” He prompted with his chin, one hand stroking that beautiful, long dick. “Lay back.”

She swallowed. “Roman.”

“Trust me.”

Her eyes widened slightly. Trust him? She shouldn’t have even be doing that with the man, let alone trusting him to fuck her without causing great bodily harm. It was crazy. All of it. One of the most dangerous men in the world, serving a ten year prison sentence, a man who had run this place like he owned it since starting his sentence. A man who’d gradually made his way past her wall, albeit weak from the get-go, standing before her, about to fuck her in the infirmary where she was supposed to be working. Like the guards outside the door who were also supposed to be working but had turned a blind eye, like almost everyone has with Reigns’ outrageous conduct.

It was fucking ludicrous.

And yet, she did exactly as he directed.

She laid back, demonstrating an undeserved and unearned amount of trust. 

Her stomach doing all kinds of somersaults, also in battle with the desire that still coursed in the depths of her belly. The wonderful sensations that came from him continuing to coat his dick with her essence, their makeshift lube in absence of the actual product.

Not once did she think to ask about protection. Or anything else, really, because all she could think about and focus on was the immediate, almost painful feel of him as he started to enter her.

Her eyes clenched shut, her fingers gripping the bed underneath her. “Shit.” An almost burning sensation, something similar to what one experiences when being split or cut open.

An accurate description. 

Solana felt a shift and a sort of weight on top of her, followed by Roman’s soft, full lips on hers. Nasty, tongue kissing accompanied the gradual descent of him inside her, providing a salacious and needed distraction. Inch by inch, he stretched her walls, forcing her cunt to accommodate his big dick.

Solana clutched onto his shoulders, moaning into his mouth when he spoke against her lips, “that’s it….let me in, baby girl.” Her eyes didn’t need to be open to see the haughty expression on his face. It seeped through his deep voice. “Let me ruin you.”

Concerning words that should not evoke the kind of moan it did. But, it did. The same way Solana couldn’t stop herself from realizing at some point the pain and discomfort of her taking someone of his size and girth transcended into something delicious and pleasurable. That it moved into her rocking against him, eager for more and all of him.

Something most definitely noticed by the man above her.

“Am I in there?” A possibly rhetorical question that was followed up with a more demanding question. “Where am I? Tell me, baby.”

An easy question, but one that was a struggle to verbalize as Roman had eased into a slow and steady pace. Solana hugged him closer as one hand moved under her ass, holding her up a bit while he fucked her. 

“My—my stomach, oh my God.” The only answer she could provide, the one that felt the most truthful, cause God, he was so deep. If not for rolls and pudge of her belly, even more profound from the position they were in, she’s certain she could have seen his sizable dick driving into her. Balls and stomach deep.

“That’s right,” he growled. Solana’s head fell back, wincing when he kissed and bit down on her neck. Equally painful as it was delightful. “Can’t nobody fucking beat your shit up like this but me.”

Another true statement she couldn’t deny or even try to. Solana couldn’t do much of anything with the way he was pounding into her. Wild, animalistic, uncontrolled. 

Fucking into her with a sense of need and urgency. “Fuck, your pussy feels amazing.” He grunted, leaning over, sucking on her neck. “Tight ass cunt….”

Her thighs locked around his waist, hungry for him, begging to feel his dick continue to dive into her. She’d never had a sexual partner hit and feel as deep as Roman was and felt in her. “Keep fucking me like that.”

Roman’s smirk was loud and proud. “This what you been wanting?” His tone cocky and knowing as he flicked her nipples through her top. “Me to stretch this pussy?”

Her response was a moan as she gripped his arms, holding him tighter and closer. “Y–yes.”

He made a sound, hiking her up further, Solana crying out from the angle of the thrust. The tip of his dick repeatedly knocking into and nudging her g-spot. “God, yes, right there.” Words in Spanish tumbled out of her mouth at the way he rocked into her, over and over again, driving her mad with delectable ectasy.

“Pretty girl just wanted me to slut her out on my dick, huh?” More bragging. Well deserved, because the way he was digging her out, pounding into her, should be studied, framed, and preserved for all eternity. “Wanted to be fucked by a real man.”

Another undisputed fact. 

“Fuck.” His hissed curse drew her gaze to him, Solana biting down on her bottom lip at the sight. Eyes shut, tension evident by how he was clenching his jaw, he looked like he was enjoying it just as much as she was. And there was something empowering about that, something that got her off even more. Knowing that a man as powerful as him, in all the ways, could be brought to this level of bliss because of her.

It had to be what emboldened her to bring her hands to his face, forcing their swollen lips to lock once more as she demanded, “you like how my pussy feels, baby?” Such an uncharacteristic thing for her to say, in the middle of being fucked numb, or not. Regardless, it’s exactly what she said. 

Roman’s response was to grind his hips against her, as he answered almost darkly. “Yes.” Solana nearly came right then and there from a single answer. “The Tribal Chief loves it.”

Another orgasm inducing acknowledgment that had that familiar sensation building and budding inside her. “Roman…”

“I know,” was his only response. He could feel it, too. “Not yet.” He said more to himself than her. “I’m not ready...”

Solana had a good feeling about what he was referring to, but it did nothing to slow down the autonomous response of her body. Unless he stopped fucking her like that, there was no stopping it. 

A whimper left her mouth as she dug her nails into his cheek, their foreheads pressed against each other. “I can’t….”

“Yes, you can,” he encouraged, slowing down the pace of his thrusts. She couldn't tell if that helped or hurt. “Don’t come on daddy’s dick just yet, pretty girl.” The ‘pretty girl’ most definitely didn’t help. It never did. “Let me feel this good ass pussy a lil’ longer…”

She wouldn’t be opposed to feeling his good ass dick inside her a lil’ longer as well, but wants oftentimes can’t stand up against needs. And, what she needed was to come.

More than she’d ever come before. 

It felt almost impossible, but Roman talked her through it. Kept her from tipping over the edge just long enough, so that he could catch up with and reach her, where they could climax together. And, they did. God, they did. Solana holding onto him, mouth ajar, connection to reality momentarily severed. Her orgasm was otherworldly. Too good and grand for her to even put into words, to be fully, physically, emotionally, and spiritually present.

All so earth and world shattering that it never even occurred to her how Roman came inside of her. Ropes of his cum, combined with her own, filling and spilling out over her used and battered pussy. 

She was partially cognizant to when he eventually pulled out of her, dazed look in his eyes as he brought his finger to her vagina, pushing some of their cum back inside. 

But, she was very aware when he used that same hand and brought his hand to grab her jaw, squeezing just enough to force her mouth open. That same hand, those fingers, still with their juices on it, entered her mouth. The unspoken command obvious. 

Solana sucked his fingers dry. 

Imagining it was that big, beautiful dick of his instead.

His look of pride at her obedience was followed by him removing said fingers. His mouth back on her, Solana shared the taste of them on her tongue and lips. An erotic, nasty exchange of sorts that had her pussy fluttering. 

It was all so kinky.

Roman broke the kiss, looking down at her with something she couldn’t name, but something that had her both aroused and fearful. 

And with all the conviction in the world, he laid his claim. “You’re mine now.”

—-----------

That first time was the start of something inescapable and avoidable.

Something sinful and forbidden.

An affair.

Four months deep, even if Solana wanted to get out, she couldn’t. It’s a known, open secret among several of her coworkers and colleagues. Something that once shamed her, embarrassed her. Now, she can’t seem to think or see straight beyond Roman. 

Even now, as she sits in the trailer, the place intended for prisoners who have an exemplary record, who have completed the Extended Family Visits (EFV) Program, that allows prisoners to have family time with loved ones in this separate space on prison grounds. 26 hours to live as normal a life as possible.

It’s a resource Roman has now commandeered for their alone time, adding to their visits that still happen at least three times a week.

For almost four months now, this has been the routine. Short, not as long meetings in the prison followed up with the Friday into Saturday she spends with him in the trailer almost weekly.

The closest sense of normalcy she’ll ever receive in such a fucked up situation.

But, the moment Roman arrives, she knows. 

Knows that something is wrong.

He’s upset with her. She can tell from the minute he walks in. Big body and tall frame almost too large for the trailer. Nicer and even bigger than the average, it’s just too small for him. Too simple. Too basic. A man like Roman demands and requires only the best of things. 

A difficult task, however, given the situation he’s in.

The situation they’re in.

He heads straight to the shower, which is the norm for him. However, what’s not the norm is the way he doesn’t even ask—or tell—her to join him. That’s usually how they kick things off. In the shower. Her washing him. Him washing her, and then her legs wrapped around his waist as he pounds into her her, her on her her knees, her body propped up against the wall, then on the bathroom counter, and eventually into the bedroom.

The normal trajectory of things. 

But, not tonight.

No, tonight is clearly bound to be different.

For a minute, Solana considers just leaving. It’s obvious he’s in a mood, and she doesn’t feel much better herself. It’s probably just best if she goes home. The smart thing. The right thing.

She doesn’t do it.

She remains there, sitting and waiting on the bed, wearing an old Selena shirt, a gift from her cousin back when they were in college.

And, she waits. For what, she’s not entirely sure anymore.

She just waits.

Roughly 25 minutes pass from the time he entered the trailer and the minute he walks out of the bathroom, nothing but a thick white towel wrapped around his waist. He’d clearly used another to dry his hair as best as possible given its damp, but not wet, appearance.

He stands at the end of the bed, ringlets of water dripping and traveling down his body, that sculpted, divine, fine work of the Gods. And, he looks at her. Says nothing. Just looks.

Suddenly exhausted and minimally frustrated, Solana runs her hands through her blown out hair. “Roman—

“Did you fuck him?”

And now, she’s looking at him. Of all the things he could say, of all the things he could ask, that….that was most definitely not on her list.

Confused, but maybe not, she asks, “what?”

 “You should know by now I don’t like repeating myself.” His expression is hardened. The perfect match for his voice. “The same way I don’t like when people lie to me.”

Both things that she knows. Solana has treated the brutal, gruesome wounds of the men who had to learn one or both of those lessons the hard way. And yet, she remains staunch in her partial confusion. “Roman, I don’t—” She’s silenced by him grabbing her ankle, yanking her down to the end of the bed. The action causes her shirt to scrunch up, revealing her blue thong.

His favorite color.

Not that she wore it for him. No….not at all.

Roman’s gaze briefly drifts to that same thong, and she sees the flash of desire that builds only to be squashed by frustration. “Don’t test me, Solana.” A dangerously delivered warning combined with his hand loosening its hold, only for him to gradually move it upward. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

Her eyes never leave his traveling hand. “F–find out what?”

He stops only for a second. “You’re a terrible fucking liar.”

Solana says nothing, unable to disagree. She’s heard variations of the same thing over the years. Doesn’t mean she’s willing to cave.

“I know you went out last weekend with your friends.” And, there it is. Though startled, she remains unmoving. “That you went clubbing.” There’s an undeniable disdain in his delivery of that last word. A marked contrast to his hand that’s now in between her thighs, fingers hovering around the perimeter of her thong. “That you were dancing and talking to some piece of shit.”

All things she can’t and won’t deny, partially because it’s true, mostly because it’s practically impossible to focus with his hand so close to her pussy.

“So, I’m only going to ask you one more time, sweetheart.” Her eyes shut, lips parted, mouth drying as he travels his thick, long fingers past the band on her thong, collecting and playing with her arousal. “Did you fuck him?”

The him comes out at the same time he moves two fingers inside of her, evoking only a moan for a response. 

It’s the wrong answer. 

Solana cries out in protest when he hastily retracts his fingers, leaving her yearning and wanting more. 

“Ro—”

“Shut up.” An angry silencer accompanied by his big hands moving to grab her hips, tugging her forward even more and hurriedly turning her over. Solana is hoisted up on the bed, guided on her hands and knees. 

“Ro—”

Solana is once again silenced, but not by his words this time. By that same big hand coming down on her backside, the sound echoing throughout the room, her ass jiggling in the recoil. 

“I said shut the fuck up,” he reiterates. There’s not going to be a third repeating. A mixture of confusion and excitement fills her at feeling and hearing him move behind her. The drop of the towel from around his waist, the way he snatches and rips her underwear clean off her body. His moan that’s followed by her own as he drags his thick dickhead up and down her folds, collecting her arousal.

It’s all so dysfunctional and wrong.

And, she loves it all.

A loud shout and moan falls out her mouth the minute he plunges his long, girthy dick inside of her. No build up. No preparation. Just the massive intrusion of his sizable member in her tight opening. 

And, he’s relentless. 

Solana’s body jerks back and forth from the force of his thrusts. Angry. Possessive. Jealous. 

“Roman,” she moans. “Baby, please.” One hand reaching back to push him away is quickly snatched and held against her lower back as he starts fucking her harder.

“You’re mine,” he growls, leaning over, deepening the feel of the delicious dick inside of her. It hurts so good, feels so bad in all of the right, wonderful ways. “You belong to me.”

More possessive statements accompanied by his hips slamming against her big, round ass, jerking in and out of her, like each thrust is another assurance of his ownership. “Your pussy is mine.”

A decree followed up with a switching of his pace. Roman opts for slower, deeper thrusts, his hips grinding against her as one hand goes to slap her ass once more.

Solana moans, head down on the pillow, her other hand snatched and restricted behind her back. He’s got her pinned down as he continues to fuck into her like a man on a mission.

“Did you give him my pussy?” There’s an edge to his voice, like anything but the right answer could easily send him over the edge.

And, it just might. 

“N–no,” she finally answers, praying the truth of her response translates despite the weariness of her voice. He always fucks her in a way that makes her feel so exhausted. “It’s—it’s your pussy, baby.”

His. All his. Every part of her. The good, the bad, the somewhere in between.

His.

“That’s right,” he grunts. Solana’s eyes burn with unshed tears. Never in her life has she been fucked like this. Fucked so good. It’s almost impossible to resist. To deny him this. To deny herself this. “Who do you belong to?”

She’s about to reply when he frees one of her hands only to fist her hair, forcing her up, head back, burning gaze on her. “I asked you a question.”

An easy answer but a difficult answer given how he’s fucking her right now. “Y—you, baby. I’m—I’m your—shit—only y–yours, Ro.”

“Damn right,” he huffs, releasing her hair. Roman moves her shirt up, exposing her big, heavy breast, gripping them, fingers playing with her nipples. “My pretty girl is mine and only mine.”

Eyes fluttering closed from being fucked numb, she can only blindly nod and agree, stuttering from the impact of his unforgiving his pace. “Y–yes, daddy.”

Head lolling back against his chest, Solana moves her hands atop his as he continues to grope and play with her titties.

His mouth near her ear, kissing and nibbling, his deep voice rumbles, “you’re gonna give me a baby.” If not for her sex fueled haze, Solana would have done a double take. Eyes wide, mouth ajar for an entirely different reason. “Gonna fill this tight, little cunt up with my seed and put a baby in you. My baby.”

Crazy.

She should call him crazy. Delusional, even. But, she can’t. She can’t, because his statement isn’t also sex fueled, the result of being caught in the throes of passion. 

It comes from her.

Came from her.

Was a request straight from her mouth.

Solana had asked Roman to give her a child, to give them a child. Has done nothing to prevent said child from occurring organically given the numerous times she’s let this man come all in her without a single form of protection.

“That’s what you want, right?” He taunts, his heavy balls slapping against her from the force of his thrusts. “Me to put a baby in you? Why you let me come in you every time?”

Truthful words that should bring her to shame. But, they don’t. They just turn her on even more.

“Yes, Ro.” She moans, ass moving in tandem with him, swallowing his dick with the hunger the fills them both. “Oh, fuck, you fuck me so good, baby.”

“That’s right.” His hand squeezes her booty, jiggling and slapping it once more. “My pretty girl is a dirty cum slut for me and only me.”

Continuance of filthy truths that reveal all the ugly, tainted things about herself that only become evident when she’s with him. The secrets of her desires that could only come to the light because of him. The things she’s not sure how to get back into the box.

Or, if she even wants them to. 

As he does most times, Roman puts her in any and all positions he wants to. On her hands and knees. Propped up on his dick as he watches her ride him. From the front and back. On her back. On her knees as she deepthroats him till she's on the brink of vomiting. Her knees up against her chest, juxtaposed to her ears. One leg over his shoulder, the other held up against his waist as he relentlessly pounds into her. It never stops. His sex drive is endless, his hunger and desire for her is insatiable. Always has been.

It’s only when she tells him she’s too sore, that the pleasure is completely gone, pain and discomfort the only sensations she has left inside of her is when he lets up off her. A constant thing. The minute it’s no longer pleasurable for her has always been his stopping point. 

As intense and dominating he can be in the bedroom, he’s always been mindful and respectful of her consent. When she says stop, he listens. 

Every single time.

When she taps out for good, he accepts it.

And, she is completely tapped out. 

Roman carries her to the bathroom where he turns on the shower, bringing her under the running water as he washes her and then himself. A type of gentleness that’s a stark contrast to almost everything else about him, but a normal thing when it’s just the two of them. Both clean and cleansed from the mess they’d made of themselves, he kisses her forehead and brings her back into the bedroom. An extra blanket is laid over the bed, over the other mess that was made.

He lays her down first before climbing into bed with her, another clean blanket on top of them. Solana presses her naked, clean body against his own, head on his chest as he kisses her temple, encouraging her to rest.

And while her body enjoys the much needed respite, her mind cannot.

She can’t find a way to settle her many, racing thoughts at this. At all of it.

Madness.

This whole thing is a type of madness that makes no sense when she’s not with him and all the sense when it’s just him. That’s the power this man has over her. Solana can’t see or think straight when it’s Roman. He’s clouded her judgment, turned her into a version of herself even she can’t recognize.

She’s yet to tell if that’s a good or bad thing.

It’s all bad, according to Jade, Solana’s older cousin and confidant. 

Well, prior.

Because the minute Solana made the mistake of confiding in the woman she thought she could tell anything, she learned just how wrong she was. 

“Solana, have you lost your goddamn mind? You’re fucking a prisoner? A mafia boss at that?”

That was probably the nicest of the response she received. Everything else was a lot of judgment and lack of understanding. Or, trying to understand, at least.

Needless to say, the conversation didn’t go well, and every outreach attempt Solana has made in the weeks that have passed have gone without a response.

It hurts. For sure. But, Solana can understand. 

Jade also works as a nurse in the local hospital and most likely doesn’t want it to get out that she knew about this illegal, forbidden affair and played any part. Distance is probably for the best.

But, the conversation and aftermath did get Solana thinking. Forced her to consider all she stands to lose should this ever reach that point, and not even her professional standing and achievements.

Her family. 

What would they think of her? They’d be disappointed for sure. 

The child her family never had to worry about suddenly boosted to the top of that worry list.

A dangerous thought that led her stumbling into even more dangerous territory.

Solana will never say she has a bad family. Ever. She loves her parents. Loves her siblings. Her family is good.

However, the youngest of five siblings, some of them hitting rough patches at various points in life, there were definitely moments where she just felt….there. Like, she was just another member of the family. Another Miller kid. The “good” Miller kid. The one who always had it together, for the most part, thus not needing as much attention from her parents who were already stretched thin from their other children. 

And, that was pretty much the dynamic her entire life. Solana did well, did okay, and that was that. Her parents would acknowledge they were proud, but it almost always felt like a distant thing. Like, they were saying it as a pleasantry, distracted, too busy helping out DJ with his custody battle for his daughter. Occupied with finding Isabella a good therapist for her anxiety. Stressed out by Zuri and her refusal to comply. 

Solana was just the child they never had to worry about which, unfortunately, translated into her being the child that often felt forgotten about.

Enter: Roman Reigns.

The attention of a man like him is one thing. The interest is something entirely different. 

And, she’s managed to nab both. He should be the last person she wants to see and be intrigued by her, but that’s exactly what’s happened. Not only does Roman make her feel seen and heard, he makes her feel wanted, something she didn’t realize she lacked so deeply until him.

He makes her feel cared for.

Protected. Another, interesting, sad thing she also never realized she was missing, wanting, yearning for. 

Like the guard, Knight something, who continued to pester and bother Solana, even going as far as groping her ass as she walked past him one day. An impossible, unavoidable situation as he’d been there for years compared to her six months. Something she just accepted she’d have to tolerate.

She was wrong.

Because not even 24hrs after Roman happened to catch a glimpse of the harassment she was dealing with, Knight was found dead in a prisoner’s cell. Beaten to death. Castrated. Eyes gouged out. 

A gruesome ending for a man she couldn’t find herself feeling sorry for after learning he had a record of harassing nurses. And sexually assaulting female inmates at the prison he worked at before then.

Ignoring his willingness to kill or have people killed for her, which probably should disturb her more than it does, Solana could talk to Roman for hours and never tire. Because his gaze is always on her, eye contact consistent, attention devoted solely to and on her. She can’t count how many times she’d be trying to talk to her parents or siblings about something, anything, only for them to always find something more important to redirect their focus to. 

“I’m sorry, Sola.”

“There’s just a lot going on, sweetie.”

“Can we talk about this some other time? We will. I promise. I’m just….”

Reasons, when she was younger. 

Excuses, now, at 27. 

And, she doesn’t fault them, isn’t upset with them. It’s just realizing what void that caused for her is such an experience, especially when that void has been filled—and more—by a man ten years her senior and miles beyond what and who she usually goes for.

Amenable. Introverted. Lover of the arts. All qualities she could use to describe her exes, none of which could describe Roman.

Strong. Quiet. Brutal. There’s a strength about him she admires and gravitates to that has nothing to do with his massive build and rippling muscles. A story behind those warm brown eyes she could most definitely get used to waking up to. A man beneath the thing that is Roman Reigns. 

A…..a man who, in the throes of chaos and destruction, sometimes seeks the silence and calm. A space she knows she provides him. 

“It’s simple with you.” He’d once said as they lay in bed together, his strong arms around her, her head on his chest. Her fingers danced across the plane of his stomach.

Something told her he wasn’t talking about the silence of the room they lay in, either.

At the very beginning, she tried to tell herself he didn’t care. That she was nothing more than a source of entertainment for a man who has nothing better to do while waiting to be released from a sentence he “shouldn't” even be serving in the first place.

That thought process helped her justify her outrageous behavior just a little.  

But, it was a thought that quickly started to be debunked when things started happening. 

Like her being at home, in her quaint little apartment, only to receive a knock at her door one day with a delivery. Beautiful pink roses from the local florist. A card attached that simply read.

For my pretty girl.

-R

Moving past the shock of such a thoughtful gesture, Solana chalked it up to a singular act of kindness. Underserved, in her mind. But, appreciated, nonetheless.

And, then it happened again.

More flowers. 

Flowers morphed into gifts. Expensive gifts. Someone who had a few select Kate Spade bags and a Michael Kors backpack gifted during college, Solana found herself on the receiving end of designer brands so fancy she couldn’t pronounce. And, the flowers remained a weekly thing as well, something she valued slightly more than the six to seven figure gifts. 

Because he’d asked her what she liked, and she’d told him flowers. She told him, and he remembered. Not only did he remember, but he’d seemingly made it a mission of his to make it a thing. To make a small act of kindness a thing of normalcy. 

And while she tried her best to not make too much of it, a man in prison showing her more adoration and appreciation compared to any of her exes, who were most definitely not serving a decade long sentence, is something she can’t avoid. 

Can’t not acknowledge.

Doesn’t mean she hasn’t tried, because she has.

Solana has tried to break free from the addiction that is Roman Reigns.

Tried to avoid him as much as possible. A difficult thing on so many levels. Especially when he always seems to find a way inside of her infirmary and especially inside of her.

It was why she went out last weekend. Willing to test out that age old theory regarding how the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. 

It didn’t work. It was, somewhat, even as she made out with the random man whose name she can’t really remember. Melo, or something like that. But, the minute he started “stroking” her and boasting about how good it probably felt, it was a wrap.

Her thigh. He was stroking her thigh.

Solana went home alone that night, left early, needing to just be away from it all.

But, the fact that Roman knew about some of it, clearly not everything, comes at no surprise.

She knows he has people watching her. Has noticed the cars parked outside her parking complex. Seen the men that are almost always in not too far distance whenever she goes out. Even at the club that night.

He has a security detail on her. 

Has had one on her for a while now. 

Ever since that happened.

A fight broke out among inmates. Nothing out of the norm. A few were injured, hence several being transferred to medical. For some reason, she’s still unsure as to exactly how, a few of the prisoners weren’t properly secured. They weren’t shackled or cuffed, and it was as Solana went to disinfect a cut on one of them, he headbutted and punched her so hard that it knocked her out cold. 

Solana came to hours later in the local hospital where she wasn’t released until the next morning, being treated for what she considered minor injuries. Though the nasty bruise that marred the left side of her face was far from minor.

As recommended by Dr. Stratus, she took the next few days off. It felt a bit unnecessary. Solana didn’t feel too impacted by what occurred. Having been in the nursing field a few years now, she’d seen and experienced a lot. It wasn’t necessarily the first time she’d been hurt on the job, but it also wasn’t something that kept her up. That had her feeling traumatized.

There was some level of anxiety when she returned to work a few days later, but it quickly subsided when she learned that same prisoner who attacked her was dead.

Found tortured and murdered in his cell.

That shook her a bit. But, not as much when Roman was brought to the infirmary, her room, and the first thing she noticed was the scraped skin of his knuckles. For all of the many times he finessed his way into coming to see her, never had he actually come with anything requiring any kind of medical attention.

And even then, there wasn’t much that needed to be done outside of some disinfecting.

But, he didn’t seem to give two shits about that. 

He only seemed concerned with her. The minute the guards closed the door, he was before her. His big hands gently cupping her face, carefully turning her head to the side, examining the bruise that not even her most full coverage foundation could conceal.

His expression was a mixture of fury and regret. But, the fury couldn’t be felt not one bit as he pulled her into him, Solana initially confused but easily melting into comfort. She relished being in his strong embrace.

He kissed the top of her head, holding her, voice low and heavy with something unknown. “I’m sorry.”

To this day, she doesn’t know what exactly he was sorry for. She just knows that ever since that day, she’s had a security detail. It felt a little unnecessary and not even applicable, given she was injured on the job. Her “bodyguards” of sorts can’t really do anything to protect her when she’s on the clock.

But, Roman can.

It’s why she put two and two together, realizing Roman himself killed the man who hurt her. Every other life he’d claimed had been done indirectly. He’d used and ordered other people to carry out his fatal orders. But, this time….this time, he took it into his own hands.

He used his own hands to end the man’s life. Violently. Brutally. Graphically.

Why?

For her.

To send a clear message regarding what happens to anyone who dared to touch or try to hurt her.

Solana isn’t entirely certain, but she has a nagging suspicion that that was the moment it happened. 

The moment she realized she was falling in love with Roman.

Roman, for all his faults, and there are many, is good to her. He protects her and gives her a sense of belonging. Makes her feel wanted, something she didn’t really realize she was craving so deeply until him. 

Where she always just felt one of many with her family. With him, she’s one of one. She’s all he sees and all he wants. 

The same way she feels about him.

While the sex is phenomenal and in the plenty whenever it’s just the two of them, he talks to and with her. Asks about her, about how she’s doing. He’s always been so interested and intrigued about all the things that make her her. And, he commits it all to memory. Locks it away for sake keeping and points of retrieval. If she casually mentions working on an art piece, the next time they’ll see each other, he’ll ask how it’s going.

If she mentions not feeling the best during an interaction at the prison, their EFV visit won’t be used for a “sexscapade.” They’ll talk, she’ll learn more about him, he learns about her. It’s almost entirely domestic. He won’t touch her, unless she asks, and even then, he’s intent on making sure that she’s sure it’s what she wants.

And, it’s those moments that make her realize somewhere along the way, she stopped falling in love with Roman Reigns. 

She’s in love with Roman Reigns.

It’s all so fucked up. Everything about it. But, she’s too far gone, too deep into it to turn back now. 

And a part of her still worries that this is all performative. That he’s saying and doing all the things he knows she wants to hear and receive just to get what he wants from her. That the moment Roman is finally released will be the moment she never hears or speak to him again. He’ll be back on his throne, and she’ll be left all alone, heartbroken, life in ruins, trying to put it all the shattered pieces back together.

Potentially with a baby in her stomach.

It’s a reality she should probably consider more than she does, if at all, but it’s a reality she refuses to acknowledge. 

If that ends up being the devastating case, she’ll cross that bridge when they get there. When she gets there. Until then, she’ll enjoy this. Enjoy him. Enjoy them.

Because she’d give her all for him. 

Even if just to be a distant memory.

[loveydcves]

dove: STOPPPP that's so sweet of you to say omg dove: tbh you're the gorgeous one hands downnn

lana: something about your instagram pulls me in everytime, i don't know what it is but i love it lana: you're simple gorgeous and i'm jealous!

[s0ulsice]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒔 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

  (‘Fun facts abt me’ has been edited due to stuff changing irl!)

  ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

  ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

  ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Angel

𝘽𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙧 

𝙏𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 

𝙂𝙤𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩, 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 🏹🤍

About The Writer

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ✯ Solana/18/capricorn

(sola, sol, ana, sunny, etc.)

┊ ┊ ┊ ✯ I surf 🏄‍♀️

┊ ┊ ✯ art and film student

┊ ✯ Zuni, Apache, Black, and Trinidadian/Caribbean

✯ Benedict Bridgerton is everything to me .

𝓕𝓤𝓝 𝓕𝓐𝓒𝓣𝓢

☆I’m currently living in the US but I’ve kinda lived all over.

☆The last place I lived was New Zealand, and I travel a lot with my partner who studies cultural architecture. 

☆ I use my real name lol. feel free to call me Sol, or Lana, or whatever!

☆ I live with my roommate, and my two dogs (one of which is a psychiatric service dog)

☆ I speak French, Spanish, English, and Shiwi (Zuni Language.)

☆ I study art and film, specifically story structure and cinematography. 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

✮I write for any gender x any gender reader inserts.

☽ y/n will most likely be poc coded (non-euro centric features described, etc.)

R U L E S     A N D    D E T A I  L S

Nsfw is aloud but nothing crazy. (By that I’m not calling any of anyone’s kinks “crazy” what I mean like super, super intense bdsm, knife play, gun play, blood kinks, incest, stepcest, (let’s just say anything ending in ‘cest’ is a no.) and everything MUST be consensual.)

I’m a bit hesitant about writing human x na’vi nsfw and I probably won’t write human reader x na’vi fluff. It’s just I have a hard time visually imagining a human and a na’vi having sex without an avatar body. I am not against the idea in any way, but the general concept does throw me off a bit (I always imagine some type of detrimental injury occurring bc we are so smol compared to na’vi)

In all, I’m not the biggest fan of writing for a human reader, and will probably turn down requests for a human x Na’vi fic.

I will however, absolutely write for avatar reader x na’vi character of any sort! Or even a half-human half na’vi reader or some kind of biracial na’vi? (I’ve seen that concept a few times in the fandom an it’s honestly so much fun)

I do allow things like comfort for self harm, abuse, traumatic experiences, racism, etc. but these things will never be romanticized.

Y/n won’t have a name. Sorry, I just don’t see the point in x reader if the reader has a name. I will always refer to them as Y/n.

I write for a female reader for the most part but please, if you want any other pronouns please let me know in your request.

Y/n will always be of any size! That includes plus size or on the skinnier size. If you would like me to specify that in your request let me know.

I do age up my characters. If you don’t like it you can head out.

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ ⋆˖⁺‧

T H E      H  E A V E N S

Details: Each character has their own sky object or natural phenomenon. Works and fics are found underneath the collages.

(important! This masterlist is not yet finished! More characters will be added later!!)

 Ａｖａｔａｒ Ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒ Ｗｏｒｋｓ⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙⋆｡°✩ ⋆

"Everything is backwards now, like out there is the true world, and in here is the dream."

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ๋࣭݁ ⭑🪩๋࣭ ⭑. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ๋࣭݁ ⭑🪩๋࣭ ⭑. ݁₊ ⊹

Kiri Sully-

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼

Sky object: crepuscular rays, Neptune 🌀

Works:

None, currently.

Lo’ak Sully

“Lo’ak was an anarchist of his own recklessness. His gaze grazed with fire unapologetically unable to sit still. 

Sometimes the smoke and ash become a haze of intangible adrenaline. preservations for one’s safety wither away under the charred sky.”

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼

Sky object:

Mars

Rainstorms

Works:

None currently.

Neteyam sully

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼

Sky object:

Golden hour

Sun rays 

Works:

Diphanous part 1

Diphanous part 2

Virago Series 🏹:

Spotify playlist

Chapter 1: Day the sky turned red

Chapter 2: The son sun made out of stone.

Chapter 3 part 1: Cupid wears a blindfold

Chapter 3 part 2: Aim your arrow at his heart as he holds it out for you to ruin.

Chapter 3 part 3.: Surrender to his saubade, he has set his soul and sin ablaze (to be yours)

Chapter 4: Nice going, Romeo.

Chapter 5: Honey, you’re familiar

Chapter 6: She was a bird, I was an arrow

More characters coming soon!

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see here for some stylish pro-Palestine jewelry!

[xann-z-the-artsy-enby]

OOO I LOVE THIS QUESTION TYSM GANG

Short answer; PLACES. PLACES SUCK FOR ME TO NAME. Character names are far and away easier for me and just more fun to come up with

More yapping below:

Now for the LONG ANSWER....

I think character names are so easy for me because I've taken in a lot more of them than place names. What I mean by that is I had a phase around a year ago where I would check pinetrest/Google RELIGIOUSLY for character names, and I think some of the randomness I'd find from there kinda rubbed off on me

Plus, honestly, it's just easier for me to get character names that SOUND like they fit for the character, because at least I can experiment a bit more with syllables and creativity when it comes to people. For example, here are the full names of the main eight characters (4 MCs and 4 secondary MCs) in Realms Beyond The Rift:

Enzo Chaldis

Jax Solace

Vaera Lightgale

Brynn Winters

Wilte Yvannis

Amber Blight

Flint Theller

Khalani Laik

My biggest tip? Don't shy away from taking inspiration from media you know!! Amber Blight, for example, ofc sounds a lot like Amity Blight from The Owl House, and though I didn't plan for both of their names to start with A I did LOVE the surname Blight so I wanted to make it work! Same with Jax Solace and Will Solace from the Percy Jackson series (and no I haven't seen like any of pjo but I heard the name and liked it!)

The key with these, though, is still finding character individuality. You gotta separate the inspiration from the end result or else it feels like a knock off. A completely different character appearance helps, but also adding in some in-universe reasoning to the name can do wonders too! Back to Jax, the surname 'Solace' is now a reworded version of 'Soless,' the name of a religion which is a mix of two Deities, Solana and Oressi, because Jax's ancestors were Solesstan prophets, hence the new Solace name.

Another tip would be to HOLD ONTO names that you've used for abandoned OCs! I've had Brynn sitting in my head for around four years now, I believe initially that name went to a ghost boy OC, then moved onto a wizard character, then sat idle for around a year til I got the idea for this story!

Now for PLACE NAMES... I wish I had a better tip but I don't so it's as "simple" as just trial and error.

For Realms Beyond The Rift, for example, their realm of Oxspia was once Oxspell, and even Galavann or Galvann. It just took a while for me to scrounge around my head and get a good name, and sometimes it's just like that!

But sometimes you can luck out like I did with Laquendria, a fantasy series I'm in the planning process of atm, that I'm also co-writing with two friends.

TL:DR; character names, to me, are easier than place names, so sorry for the ppl who wanted tips on place names, all four regions in my story have yet to be named so we'll just be struggling together T-T

[sunlights-daughter]

☀️ – MEET SOLANA WILSON.

"Can't Stamp Out the Light of a Child Of the Sun God!"

Hey, hey! I'm Solana Wilson! I'm technically the Head of Cabin 7, but I have my little brother Will in charge of said Cabin when I'm gone on quests! Nice to meet you, come ask me any questions, xoxo.♡ – Sola.

Solana Iris Wilson, Daughter of Jasmine Wilson and Apollo. 20. Poly-Pan. Fem. (She/They). Black-Greek. 5'5. Aliases: Sola, Lana, Sunshine, Sunny, Pretty Girl.

Your local Hermes-like kid, is actually an Apollo kid. Is also an accomplice to any pranks. It's always her somehow.

☀️ Appearance – Curly black hair, usually she presses it and puts it in a ponytail, twin tails or just down and it's natural curls. Golden-like yellow eyes and freckles. Hoop earrings and nose piercings, doesn't matter the type. Her nails are usually painted black and she wears ripped jeans, converse, a turtleneck and a yellow jacket (Outside of camp), and a Camp Half-Blood T-shirt, studs and shorts with tennis shoes (Inside Camp.), but she always has her golden bracelets.

☀️ Personality – She's as sunny as they come, and optimist to a fault. She's almost always snarky, always up to something and mischievous but she hides it behind a cute smile. Despite how untrustworthy she seems, she's an experienced Half-blood and the most reliable on quests for directions, the sun usually always guiding her. (And her compass-) She gets emotional when it comes to her friends, willing to risk her life or worse for them. Under her outwardly sunny personality, she wishes everything wasn't hell.

☀️ Powers / Weapons – Healing, Precognition, Disease Transfer and Nosokinesis (basically the same but with plauges.), Heliokinesis (Solar Manipulation), Photokinesis (Light Manipulation), Heat Control, Audiokinesis (Music Manipulation), Vitakinesis (Healing Control), Rhyming Curse, Injury/Vital Sensor, Pain Transfer/Absorption.

– Her Golden Bracelets, they have the power to transform into her bow and arrow.

– A dagger that her older sister, Eventide, made her.

– Her bare ass hands

Relationships Currently:

– Telemachus (@ithacas-prince): The love of my life, sweetest thing since chocolate, and my handsome fiance. ♡ (Engaged.)

– Telemakhos (@telemakhosofithake): A bit violent and murderous, but he's my husband, he's sweet to me (and its hot), so it doesn't matter. ♡ (Husband.)

– Lex de Santos (@punkeropercyjackson) I'm the Sunlight to help their Garden! (Best Friend.)

– Warrior! Penelope (@imnotaman) Tele's Soldier Mom, she's an amazing mom. (Mother Figure and Mother in-law.)

– Amphinomus (@princeofdulichium): My love! My teddy bear of a husband! ♡ (And his weirdass twin I guess.) (Husband.)

Rules:

– No NSFW.

– You can trigger my muse. (How? You'll just have to find out~! –Sola)

– Suggestive things are allowed.

– You can ask Past and Present Solana!

Tags –

☀️ Here Comes the Sun! – Solana, General Tag.

🌥 – Shadows Overcast Ahead. – Angst Tag.

📜 – Sunshine's Prophecies. – Talking, Tagging.

🏹 – Solar Range. – Fight Scenes.

💛 – The Sun Proposed to the Moon. – Ship Tag.

💭 – Camp Inquires. – Asks.

💕 – Mod. – OOC Tag.

Tagging: @punkeropercyjackson (finally finished her blog melts into concrete)

[miazims]

Here is my CC townie makeover of Billie Jang.

CC links under the cut.

Hair: The Sims Resource - Summer Festival - Solana Hair

Outfit: The Sims Resource - T-shirt and overalls with ribbons Child

Bracelet: The Sims Resource - Y2K Cute Bracelet Child

Sandals: The Sims Resource - Bow Sandals Kids

[nikamuhlsrealwife777]

Here's just a bunch of fics I'm gonna start on Wattpad....the playlist are up if y'all wanna get the vibe

[mariacallous]

As President Donald Trump was sworn into office as the 47th President of the United States on Monday, grifters and opportunists were already seeking to cash in on the new Trump era—including the president himself.

Just days before he took office, Trump launched a memecoin called $TRUMP to “celebrate our win and have fun," warning that it was “not intended to be … an investment opportunity.” Trump announced the launch on X and Truth Social, with many wondering if the president’s accounts had been hacked.

However, within hours, thousands had invested in the cryptocurrency. The sale was so successful that, at billions of dollars, it accounted for almost 90 percent of Trump’s overall wealth. However, like a lot of memecoins, the $TRUMP coin’s price fluctuated wildly and dipped significantly on Sunday, with the price drop continuing into Monday.

At the time he was sworn in as president on Monday, the $TRUMP memecoin was worth just shy of $50 billion, with Trump retaining 80 percent of the coins. The coin, which is built on the Solana blockchain, allows anyone anywhere in the world to funnel money directly to the US president.

First Lady Melania Trump also launched her own memecoin on Sunday, and while it hasn’t reached the level of Trump’s memecoin, the $MELANIA coin was worth almost $8 billion on Monday.

The president and first lady were far from the only ones seeking to cash in on the buzz around Trump’s second term, and the inauguration weekend in particular. Since his first term in office, Trump has been a magnet for all types of grifts and cash grabs, many of them endorsed by the president himself, and including everything from guitars and shoes to trading cards and coins.

Religion has also been on the table. Lee Greenwood, a country singer, said on Sunday that Trump could use a special edition of the “God Bless The USA” bible for his swearing in—the same bible the singer has been selling with Trump since last March.

The “Inauguration Day Edition Bible” has been on sale on Greenwood’s own website—alongside hot pink and camo versions of the bible—for $70 for the last week, but as Trump took office on Monday, the bible appeared to have already sold out.

A raft of other commemorative items are on sale, ranging from dozens of “Inauguration Day” t-shirts and hats being sold on platforms like Amazon and Etsy to a special “Inauguration Edition” roast from Victory Coffee. A Texas-based jeweller is even offering to gift the president an 8-carat diamond in the shape of his head in what appears to be a marketing bid.

And because Trump’s inauguration was moved indoors due to severe cold weather, tens of thousands of people who had been sent tickets to attend the event were unable to use them. People have attempted to cash in on those tickets, with dozens of listings on eBay offering the unused tickets for up to $200 each. The tickets were distributed free by members of the House of Representatives and feature a hologram and the signature of the representative whose office issued them. Many of the listings have already been sold, with some sellers offering multiple tickets.

A specific website offering commemorative inaugural tickets was also set up, with some tickets offered for as much as $900. It is unclear who is behind the page, but the site is ranked as the second result on a Google search for "commemorative inauguration tickets.”

Grifting and cash grabs in Trumpworld are nothing new. Ever since Trump came to office in 2016, he and his sycophantic supporters have embraced a wide variety of schemes. With Trump support, many figures have made entire careers grifting on topics like stolen elections or COVID denialism.

[praetoravila]

World Building Wednesday for Wren? <3

B A S I C S

full name: wren elizabeth pasqualina

gender: cisgender female

sexuality: straight (unfortunately)

pronouns: she/her

O T H E R S

family: olive pasqualina (younger sister), rafael pasqualina (father), mara pasqualina (mother), carolina pasqualina (grandmother)

birthplace: solana beach, ca

job: actress + waitress

phobias: spiders and failure

guilty pleasures: wine, childrens movies (land before time!!) and chocolate

M O R A L S

morality alignment?: lawful good

sins - lust/greed/gluttony/sloth/pride/envy/wrath

virtues - chastity/charity/diligence/humility/kindness/patience/justice

T H I S - O R - T H A T

introvert/extrovert: extrovert

organized/disorganized: disorganized as HELL

close minded/open-minded: open-minded

calm/anxious: calm!

disagreeable/agreeable: agreeable

cautious/reckless: reckless

patient/impatient: impatient

outspoken/reserved: outspoke

leader/follower: leader

empathetic/unemphatic: empathetic

optimistic/pessimistic: optimistic

traditional/modern: modern

hard-working/lazy: hardworking

R E L A T I O N S H I P S

otp: wren x guitar dude

ot3: wren x guitar dude x billy (her coworker)

brotp: wren & olive or wren & logan

notp: wren x any of the btr boys

[starwalkerisim]

“ 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒊'𝒎 𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒅. . . “

𝓢𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐀 𝐀𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐙

𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑦’𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑢𝑛 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑.

CHAR . INFO ׅ⎖

‎ SOLANA ALVAREZ

‎IN MY PORTRAYAL、 SHE’S NINETEEN .

‎ EX — ARASAKA STUDENT , MERC IN NIGHT CITY , NOW THE IDOL OF THE YEAR OF 2077.

FC / VC :: SZA

‎BISEXUAL、 SHE // HER PRONOUNS.

‎MULTI SHIP OR SINGLE SHIP.

𝑃𝐸𝑅𝑆𝑂𝑁𝐴𝐿𝐼𝑇𝑌.

Solana is a kind soul with a hard side. for a kind soul and person who grew up and got it from the mud. Solana is a graceful girl and has a passion for leaving the city to fetch out her dream that leads to her fame. She is very kind, warm, and sees the best in people. For example, when David was confused about the cyberware being ‘stolen’ —— she told the crew especially Maine to go easy on David especially when he first wanted to join the edgerunners to pay off the Sandevistan.

However, she does have a hard side to herself—— she doesn’t show this tough love and stuff to be an asshole. She only does it to keep her from being vulnerable in Night City, Now that she sees the issues that are occurring in the city. She learned that Night City isn’t nice place to be in especially what she had to go through. She felt like if she was vulnerable, she’ll keep hurting herself or possibly others so she tend to keep her moves silent and she tries not to overshare things. However, she doesn’t take shit from people and she doesn’t ALWAYS stay inside the guidelines due to her having a rebel-like character. She can’t stand the fact of being talked down to by people who seemed to be above them.

For example she gave Faraday the same treatment whenever he came to the celebration and tried to crash it. On the other hand , she’s a chill , Ambiverted girl who enjoys seeing her friends happy even if she has to talk to them to relate to some of their issues. Even if hers is buried. But as time went on , she learned to face her insecurities and try to be opened with others. Now, she’s open minded and still a kind soul reaching out to people who are hurt. Just like her.

𝐵𝐴𝐶𝐾𝑆𝑇𝑂𝑅𝑌.

Solana wasn’t originally born in Night City . She was originally born in the Dominican Republic. At the age of three years old , Solana had to deal with heavy financial and medical issues with her family, especially her mother who was propounded to be very ill. As Solana grew older , She was helping her mother around. She was big on helping people especially if it came to her family members who were sick or not mentally stable enough to handle the issues. When Solana turned six her mother died of cancer the family were in grief after they heard the news about her mother’s death. However, while that was happening a big news was going around on everyone’s TV.

Apparently , Corpos from night city were taking children who were six years old and up. They were using them for a netrunning program/ project that was prepared for them. The family were shocked and they tried to map out to escape but by time they could even do so . . It was too late for them . Her family weren’t willing to give up Solana but they had to face their fate . . . BANG ! BANG ! . Shots fired at her family members and they were brutally murdered in front of Solana.

This tragedy left a big scar upon her. Of course, they took her away from her home and she was enraged by the actions however, there was nothing she could do. At the age of ten she was put up for the netrunning project . . They were set in the virtual space where kids thought they could play. . . However, it was deadly. Kids started dying from the wrong moves that were made in the VR space. Sadly to say , but Solana was the only one who made it out alive.

But , it wasn’t just her, it was a girl who seemed to be her age who soon revealed herself as Lucy. One day , they decided to plot an escape with a couple of other kids who were planning to leave with them. However, when they had a chance to run away kids were getting shot and all Lucy and Solana did was close their eyes and run while shots were being fired. Of course, they ran at a far distance and agreed to go their separate ways and head off into hiding in a city of ‘dreams‘ which was known as Night city.

At the age of twelve, Solana was put up for adoption and she had to be with a family in Watson which is located in the far distance side of night city . The family was very nice and they were rich . Eventually, they gave her a little chrome. And they placed her in therapy and came to find out she had severe depression & PTSD . Eventually, the foster family moved from Watson to Santo Domingo where she met a boy who went by the name David Martinez. She enjoyed the boy's company and his mother‘s as well. Their relationship with each other was very special and somewhat powerful. They went to the same school which was araska and they shared a lot of interest. Until that specialness broke between them.

Solana had to move away for a while and she promised David to come back when she was of age or in her teen years. They kept that promise until they came back. Years later at the age of eighteen she came back as an edgerunner and she’s known under the title of ‘The Sun Child of Night City’. in the crew she’s known to be a netrunner however, there’s many other things that she’s known for. After the Death of David Martinez , she buried him and kept what’s only left of him and she moved on to see her dream through just like Lucy. Now, she’s night city’s Idol. . .

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + thirty one

authors note: foreshadowing? planted seeds? twists? who knows.

cw/tw: angst, fluff, and drama

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

cast+ masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 12k

“You know we should probably be getting up soon.”

“Probably.”

Solana waits for him to move. He doesn’t, but neither does she. “Ro?”

“Hmm?”

“You haven’t moved.”

He makes a sound, hands shifting just a bit, clearly trying to be mindful of the Saniderm still covering one of her new tattoos. “Neither have you.”

Solana opens her mouth to protest, but she can’t, because he’s right. They’ve been in this position for a good hour now, him laying on top of her, in between her legs, hugging her, head resting comfortably on her chest as she plays with his hair that’s down, free, in its natural state. 

It’s comfortable, to say the least. She enjoys being laid up with him, being close to him, but she also knows that they have a long day ahead of them, a day that can’t start as long as they’re still in bed together.

Even Dulce who snores quietly in her newest princess bed.

“True,” she agrees. “But, I can’t move unless you move, so….”

Roman grunts quietly, adjusting himself on top of her. “I’m not moving.”

“Ro…..”

“How have you been feeling?”

Somehow, Solana knows exactly what he’s referring to despite it being a general, almost vague question. 

“The morning sickness has gotten a little better.” Thank God. That constant feeling of nausea as well as having to vomit every morning was becoming borderline unbearable. “No bleeding….” Her voice lowers. Solana doesn’t really like talking about that situation. Regardless of everything being, hopefully, okay now, it was still a terrifying experience that she’d rather not revisit. 

And something tells her that her husband feels the same way. 

“Good,” he murmurs, hand moving to the side of her, finger moving in absent, shapeless motions. When he says nothing, Solana finds herself giggling, small smile growing on her face. 

“You’re really not gonna move, are you?”

A second of delay. Like he’s really considering it. Like he’s actually going to move. “Naw.”

Rolling her eyes, Solana once again is reminded that as big and strong as her husband can be, he most definitely has his “big baby” moments.

And speaking of baby….

“So, I’ve been thinking—”

“Yes?”

“Until we go public with the pregnancy, or start telling people, if I start to get sick—”

At that, he lifts his head, gaze focused on her. “Sick?”

“Morning sickness,” she clarifies, keeping her hand in his hair, her fingers massaging his scalp. “I need to be able to tell you without….ya know….telling you.” 

He nods. “I agree.”

“So, I came up with something. At least…at least for tonight.” Because keeping this pregnancy a secret for at least the next 2 or 3 months will most likely continue to be a challenge that they have to navigate together. “If I sit on your lap—”

“I like it already.”

She rolls her eyes, ignoring his sly remark. “—and I squeeze your thigh—”

He makes a sound, dipping his mouth to kiss the top of her chest. “I really like that—”

“Then I’m starting to feel sick, and we need to leave.” She bites down on her bottom lip, suddenly unsure if what she’d come up with makes sense. “Is—is that okay?”

Roman chuckles. “Baby, you had me sold at sitting on my lap.” Of course, she did. “Are you sure you want to do this today?” 

This refers to two things. One being meeting and speaking with her biological father, and the second being her informing the rest of her maternal family of their kinship.

She's nervous as shit about both, but she also knows that she needs to do this.

For herself.

"I am," she answers, nodding to herself. "I have to."

He doesn't say anything, and she's grateful. Grateful that even if he doesn't outright agree, he's still being supportive, because that's just who he is to her. A support system.

And it's one of the man reasons she loves him.

When the silence continues, Solana decides to switch gears a little. Take advantage of this time they have together. “Well, since you still haven’t moved….” Her voice is initially teasing before slipping into something more serious. “I know you don’t want me training during this pregnancy, and I agree, but I don’t—I don’t want to stop learning altogether.”

He sighs. “Solana—”

“I want to learn how to shoot,” she cuts him off, unsurprised when he lifts his head to look at her. “I’ve been texting Afia, and she—”

“Afia?” Finally, Roman sits up and moves off her, but it’s not for the reasons she was hoping. “Since when do you talk to her?”

“Ro…..” She’s careful with her words, trying to be respectful of Roman’s boundaries but also recognizing her autonomy. “She’s your brother’s wife. My sister-in-law….” Solana’s hand drops to her stomach. “Their kids will be the girls' cousins. If you….if you aren’t ready to try to build a relationship with Matteo, that….that’s fine, but—I like Afia. She’s nice, and we get along well. And she’s been going to the shooting range, and I wanna go with her.”

Roman looks away, and Solana readies to say something else, but she stops when she sees that he’s clearly deep in thought. Most likely trying to combat logic with emotion. Trying to find a balance between what he wants and what she wants. 

“I don’t know, Sol. I don’t know her well enough to trust you with her.”

“That’s why you’ve gotta trust me,” is her soft response. Solana scoots over to him, holding onto his muscular arm. “Trust my judgment.” Eager to help him further consider her perspective, she points out, “not being able to train at all is going to be hard for me, Ro. I need something.”

It’s already been hard for her. Solana has gotten used to the routine and empowerment that comes with feeling herself grow stronger, psychologically and physically. And sure, once her pelvic rest restrictions are lifted, there’s a small chance she could continue to train, just in a different capacity. However, she doesn’t want to take any chances, and she knows Roman feels the same way.

Thus, this feels like an appropriate substitution. Because truth be told, being his wife, and not even knowing how to properly hold a gun, let alone use it, feels almost like a crime. Solana doesn't like weapons, especially guns, but it feels naive and almost irresponsible to not at least know how to use one.

Even if she prays that day never comes. 

“What if I teach you?” He suddenly suggests, eyes almost hopeful. “If you want to learn, it should be from the best.”

Solana doesn’t doubt that. She’s heard people talk about as such. Not only does Roman excel at hand to hand combat, which she’s seen for herself, his aim is impeccable.

He never misses.

“I’d be okay with that,” she agrees, voice trailing. “But, I want to learn from Afia as well.”

He sighs. “Solana—”

“Just like training with a woman is different from training with a man, I think…I think learning how to shoot might be the same.” Perhaps. She’s not entirely certain, but it leads into her next point. “And, I would just feel better learning from the both of you.” She kisses his shoulder, a small smile forming on her face. “But, if it helps, I really want to learn the spear from you. Only you.”

Solana is relieved to see his small grin as well. “You still on that spear obsession?”

She pouts, defending herself. “It’s not an obsession. It’s just….it seems effective. Like…like a finishing move, almost.” 

When coming from her husband, at least. She’s certain she could never inflict nearly as much damage as he could, largely because of the differing experience. Mostly because Roman is fucking huge. 

Almost 300lbs of pure muscle coming at someone with all that weight and speed?

Yeah….recipe for disaster. 

Or worse.

The thought pattern cause her to ask something she’d heard but hasn’t had a chance to inquire about. “Is it true you ruined someone’s career with a spear? Brock something?”

It’s not missed on her how he tenses a bit. “Yeah. Old college football rivalry that bled into the ring.” Roman scoffs, his hand moving to her knee, thumb caressing her skin. “I’ll admit. Fucker was the most physically challenging opponent I’ve ever faced.” Her eyes widen at that. Roman being challenged by anyone in that way seems and almost feels impossible. “We went at it a couple times, but the last one, I speared him, he went down badly on his right leg, the dominant one, and fucked it up real good. Ended any chance he had at going pro.”

Solana nods, taking it all in. “He wasn’t….he wasn’t in….ya know, the business?” For some reason, it feels almost strange asking about that. Asking about someone’s affiliation, membership, or lack thereof, in the crime world. Mostly because Solana was always left out of these conversations by Xavier, her preference at the time. 

Not necessarily, anymore. 

Roman scoffs, shaking his head. “He tried, but he was a dumbass farm boy who didn’t have the mental capability to make it or be successful." She winces, partially feeling bad. 

Curious, Solana inquires, “whatever happened to him?”

Roman shrugs, answering, “last I heard he bought a shit ton of land and does farming. I don’t know beyond that, and I don’t really fucking care to be honest with you.” Fair and expected for her husband. “What I care about is you and keeping you safe.”

His smooth redirection back to the conversation at hand is impressive, but as is the case with most things Roman Reigns related. “I will be safe, Roman. I just….training also helps me to feel safe, so I need something else to help me with that in the time being.” And when he looks at her, partially concerned, she already knows what he’s thinking. “You always make me feel safe, Ro. The safest I’ve ever felt in my life, but I—I also need to be able to provide that for me. Learning how to fight and defend myself has been so good for me. Please….please let me keep it going.”

Solana watches and waits quietly, allows and prays her words settle into her overprotective husband. She can understand why this could be hard for him, but she hopes his faith and trust in her overpowers any mistrust he might have in Afia.

“Alright,” he acquiesces. “If this is really what you want—”

“It it,” she speaks up, excitement growing at the possibility of his approval. “It really is.”

He runs his hands through his hair. “Then you can do it.” Solana giggles and holds his arm, hugging him. “But, I want Bautista with you at all times—”

“Of course.” An easy thing to agree to, Solana readying to ask Roman why and if Solo will ever return to being included in her personal security detail when he transitions the topic.

“Since we’re talking about shit…” Roman moves off the bed, Solana frowning and watching him walk over to his dresser. He opens up the top drawer, pulling out two letters that she focuses on as he climbs back on the bed. Handing them both to her, she reads her name on both letter as he shares, “these are for you….”

The confusion grows, weighing down her furrowed brows. “What—what are they?” Her question is premature as she notices the sender. 

Pacific Life

Her frown deepens. 

“What…..”

Roman nods gently. “Open em’.”

Solana still has so many questions, but they’re questions that clearly can only be answered by opening said letters. 

And, that’s exactly what she does.

Solana has always been a quick reader, so it doesn’t take long for her to come to some level of understanding. Pacific Life is clearly a life insurance company, and said letters both say the exact same thing, with the main difference being the names listed on each.

One is Xavier Miller, and the other is Wesley Miller.

And both include checks. 

“Oh my God…..” Solana’s hand slaps over her mouth, her eyes widening as she takes in the amount. The same on both checks.

$15,000,000.00

Wide eyes darting up to her husband, she drops her hand, mouth ajar. “I dont…..what?”

Roman moves his hand to her cheek, voice as gentle as his gaze. “I settled Xavier’s debts to keep them from coming after you—”

Solana’s stomach flips. “Roman—”

“And clearly, Xavier had Wes as his beneficiary for his life insurance policy and vice versa for Wesley. With them both dead and you last of kin, that makes you the beneficiary of both policies."

Nothing he’s saying is any different from what’s included in both letters outside of Roman paying off Xavier’s debt, something she both hates and loves. Hates her husband did anything for that man but recognizes and loves that he did it for her, did it to keep those debts from being sacked onto her.

But, regardless, there’s something so mind-blowing about opening two letters and finding oneself is now thirty million dollars richer.

“I don’t—I can’t—” Her words are choppy, similar to her many, fleeting thoughts. “I don’t want anything from them.”

Roman sighs, his response calm and supportive. “I figured you’d say that, and I respect it. I’ll respect whatever you decide to do.” It’s obvious there’s more, that he has additional thoughts, thoughts that he goes on to share. “But Sol, they put you through hell. You deserve this and so much more. It doesn’t change what happened, but maybe with this, you can do something good.”

Solana listens to him. Listens to the valid points he makes. This money most definitely doesn’t take back any of the horrors she experienced at the hands of those men, but the money….the money could be used for something, as Roman pointed out, good. 

A thought crosses her mind, as she suggests almost tentatively, “Like starting a college fund for the girls?”

Roman’s smile is small and slightly amused. “I don’t think we need to worry about paying for college, Sol.”

Fair. Sometimes, Solana forgets her husband is an actual billionaire.

A similar thought arises. "Or what about my schooling?"

"No." He shoots that down almost immediately. "I'm paying for that for you." Which makes sense, yes, but if she can afford it now with all this money, why not?

Roman shakes his head. “Just take some time and think about it,” his encouragement is gentle. “That and what you want to do with the house, too….”

Her eyebrows furrow. “The house?” Roman says nothing, but the way his expression softens almost sympathetically is all the answer she needs.

“Oh…..” 

The house she grew up in. The house that holds so many memories. Good. Bad. Some unidentifiable space in between. 

Yeah... she most definitely has to think about that.

“Okay.” A quiet, single word of agreement. Roman leans forward and kisses her temple, his hand settling over her stomach. 

His conciliatory touch is conjoined with a gentle, “let’s get ready.”

—----

The meeting with Darnell takes place at a restaurant. One Roman had cleared out just for this reason. A meeting she's instantly regretting the moment she walks in, her husband close by her side.

Her eyes land on the table where the other man sits, nervously bouncing his leg up and down. She takes a brief second to search his face, searching for any signs of similarities.

Nothing stands out to her.

And when they're close enough to him, Darnell also stands up and sets his focus on her, his eyes widening and instantly softening as he takes her in, studying her from top to bottom. Solana diverts her gaze and unconsciously leans into Roman’s solid, protective frame.

“Wow….” He finally speaks, volume barely above a whisper. “You….you look so much like her.”

Solana says nothing. What once would be considered a compliment is now a thing that only further confuses her muddled emotions. 

He moves to take a step forward, but Roman is already on it. “That’s fucking close enough.”

It’s appreciated, the parameters being set for her as Solana continues to go back and forth with herself regarding if this was a good idea or not. 

The answer changes from moment to moment. 

Disappointment flashes in his face, but he says nothing, simply nodding as he retakes his seat. 

It’s only then Solana speaks again, not to her biological father, but to her husband. Turning around, having to remind herself to be mindful of her interactions with him, she simply states, “I’m okay.”

Roman’s fierce gaze switches from Darnell to herself. An unspoken ‘are you sure?’. She nods, smile small but voice firm. “I’ll be okay.”

Bloodline security surrounds the place. Bautista is right outside the door. Darnell would have to be an idiot to try anything. 

Especially with Roman present. 

Roman’s disagreement is noticeable, Solana opting to place her hand on his chest, quietly repeating, “I’ll be okay.”

And it’s on this final reiteration that it locks and settles in for him. Roman gives her a small nod of acknowledgement, then turns his icy stare on Darnell, an unspoken threat and promise of violence should he try anything.

“I’ll be outside,” Roman informs. She offers him a final, small smile before he disappears, leaving her alone with Darnell. 

Solana takes a deep breath and sits down in the chair opposite him. She doesn’t say anything, and neither does he. Not for a good five minutes at least. 

“How?” It’s a practical whisper followed up with a firmer, “how did you find out?”

Solana looks away, partially unsure why eye contact is so difficult. “I found…I found a letter she wrote me explaining….explaining things.” She’s tempted to say everything but ultimately decides against it, as everything has not been explained, hence why she’s sitting across from the man in front of her.

He nods, eyes searching and studying her. “What—what exactly did she tell you?”

A lot. So much. More than one person should have to process and deal with at any given time. 

Still, Solana does her best to answer his questions, despite the fact that she only asked for this meeting so she could ask her questions. “How….how she met…..Xavier. How…how she met you…..the….the plan—”

“To leave, right?” All she can do is nod, finally looking over at him to see the devastation painted all over his face. “I never—I never found out…how….how he learned of the plan—”

One of her questions suddenly answered without her even asking. It’s not, however, the answer she was looking for. Granted, it’s obvious someone betrayed them. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that much.

“I have to admit. This….this isn’t how I imagined this conversation going.” A quiet admission filled with undeniable sadness and regret.

Curious, Solana inquires, “how—how did you think it would go?”

He shakes his head. “Not like this.”

Silence

"I've waited....waited so long to meet you, to meet my daughter—"

"Please—please don't call me that." A whispered request, one that makes his countenance dim but something needs. It's bad enough she already feels unwell about this whole thing but him referring to her as that, even if true, it just....it feels too soon.

Continued silence until he speaks again, shattering it.

“Solana…..” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “I—” He stops, pulling out his phone, clicking around, turning it so she can see. One look at the screen, and Solana knows right away what she’s looking at. 

Who she’s looking at.

The resemblance is strong and striking. The same smile. Same brown eyes they clearly inherited from her mother. Similar complexions.

This is her brother. 

“This….this is Shawn,” she lifts her gaze from the phone to Darnell who wears a small smile. “This is your brother.” Her eyes shut, as he continues to explain what she most definitely has not asked about. “He’s in his second year of residency. Working to become a pediatrician. He just got engaged—”

And because she can’t take it, can’t hold it in any longer, Solana asks. Has to ask. “Where were you?”

If she was looking at him, she’d see the quick and unmistakable way his smile shifts back into a frown. “What?”

From some place, a place unknown, Solana starts to find her voice. Starts to tap into the reasons and emotions that drove her to schedule this meeting in the first place. “You—you knew about me, right?”

There’s an undeniable sadness in his eyes. “From the moment your mother told me about the pregnancy.”

For some reason, that doesn’t help her to feel any better. To settle the influx of emotions rising within her. “And you—you knew that—that the plan failed, that….that she was killed.”

His eyes shut, and he looks away. A quiet, pained, “yes.”

“But that….that I survived, that….that I was still with him, in that—in that house.” Emotion betrays her, stirring and rising, resulting in choppy sentences that somehow manage to alert the man across from her just where she’s going with this. 

“Solana—”

“So where were you all these years?” A devastating question that needs, deserves, an answer. “Where have you been?” Betrayal paints her face as she issues her next icy question. “Or were you too busy being a dad to the child you wanted?”

There's a good, solid minute of absolute silence as Darnell clearly works to choose the right words.

“Solana, I always wanted you. There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by in all these years that I haven’t thought about you, thought about trying to get you, but…..sweetheart.” Solana's nails scrape against the table. Something about that nickname doesn't settle right with her. “There was no way for me to try to take you from him that didn’t put you in danger. If he found out who I was, about me, he’d have no doubt either killed me or you. And then what?” A rhetorical question as he shakes his head. “I couldn’t save you without risking—”

“So you just left me there with that monster—”

“I didn’t have a choice, Solana—” His voice is desperate, eyes pleading. “I—I always hoped he would marry you off to someone, and then maybe I could reach out, and he did, but it was to that other monster Roman—”

And that is when Solana's anger reaches a dangerous level.

Her voice is unwavering and borderline threatening. “Don’t you dare talk about my husband.” She points to the door. “He is the first and only man in my life to not hurt me. To protect me. He protects me the way you should have—”

“Solana—”

“But, you didn’t. You left me to the real monster, and then you want to show up after all these years, showing me pictures of the sibling that I never knew I had, the sibling who I’m sure you gave a good life to, meanwhile, I spent over twenty years in hell—”

“Sol—”

“Do you know how bad it was for me?” Her throat is heavy and chest feels weighed down. “The things—the things they did to me—” Solana's voice breaks. “The things he let people do to me—”

“Sweetheart...." To be fair, Darnell looks sympathetic, but his explanations somehow contrasts that. Seems invalidating. Justifying. "I couldn’t risk losing you, too." He closes his eyes and shakes his head. "If I tried to take you from him, he would have killed y—"

“Being dead would have been better than being in that house!” It’s a dark, heavy thing to say, but it’s how she feels. Or, maybe it’s how she feels in this moment. To be fair, she’s feeling a lot of things. A lot of confusing, conflicting, overwhelming things. It’s too much. 

This is all too much.

She thought she was ready. She wanted to be ready, but it’s evident by the way her face is warming up and her chest is tightening that she was wrong.

“I can’t do this,” she finally announces. Solana looks over at Darnell whose shoulders drop at her exclamation. “I—I can’t do this right now.”

Solana moves to stand up, but so does he. He also reaches across the table, his hand just centimeters away from touching her. “Solana, please—”

“I—I can try on a different date, but—but—this—it’s too—it’s too much.” She shakes her head, closing her eyes and forcing herself to take a deep breath. It’s only then she recognizes where this is headed. She’s on the path to a panic attack, and for so many reasons, primarily the two lives growing inside of her, she has to get the hell out of dodge. 

Darnell circles around the table and finally makes contact, grabbing her forearm. Solana is taken back by the fact that she doesn’t panic or jump at the action, that him touching her doesn’t elicit another layer of anxiety.

Still, she requests, “let me go.”

His voice is dripping with desperation. “Ten minutes. I’m just asking for ten—”

“—let me go.”

“—please. I’ve waited for so long—”

“Let me go.”

“—if you—”

“Roman!” 

It practically defies logic and the science of how time works, because one minute she’s shouting for her husband, a natural thing that comes to her in the space of this fear, and the next, he’s back in the room, roughly barking at her father to get away from her. Solana reaches for Roman, grabbing his arm, redirecting his attention back to her instead of Darnell who’d stepped back, hands up in a defensive manner. 

“I just wanna leave,” she whispers, Roman moving his hands to her face, clearly assessing for any sign of injury. “P–please.”

Roman nods, ushering her out of the restaurant, but not before he issues a cold, steel warning to Darnell. 

“Stay the fuck away from her.”

Solana doesn’t know if she agrees with that. If she wants, overall, for Darnell to leave her alone. There’s still so much for them to discuss, but as of right now, mentally, it’s not something she’s ready for. Not something she can handle. So, for now, distance is the best thing.

Only time will tell if that changes. 

—-------

Solana is dangerously close to calling off the whole thing. From backing away from the plan to inform the rest of Bayley/her family of the kinship. The meeting with Darnell messing with her so much that Roman has to stay with her for the rest of the afternoon given her spiked anxiety. He’d asked if she needed him to call Gayle for an appointment, but she turned it down, leaning on her coping skills learned in therapy as well as his support.

She’s not entirely sure what she expected to hear or how the meeting would go, but her reaction and how deeply it impacted her definitely took her by surprise. And, if she’s being completely honest with herself, anxiety isn’t the only emotion that came out of that meeting.

Jealousy.

Jealousy is something she also left with, jealousy that a sibling, her twin, of all people got to live a normal life. Probably got to do all of the normal things that kids should be able to do. Darnell probably taught him how to ride a bike.

Xavier once pitched hers into the street and rolled it over in front of her because she didn’t clean the house “good enough.”

He probably got to have playdates with friends.

Solana went to maybe one or two, each one ending with Xaxier screaming at and beating her mom for allowing her to do so.

He probably went to homecoming and prom.

Solana spent both of those in the ER from injuries sustained from Xavier and Wes’s beatings.

He’s a doctor.

Solana is just going for her bachelors at 29.

There’s just so much unfairness. Her twin lived the best life while she was stuck in the depths of hell.

And no, it’s not his fault, because he was a child just like her. But, that doesn’t take away from the fact that she’s jealous that this sibling received the life she deserved and angry at her father for not saving her and giving her that same kind of life. 

“Hey.” Bayley’s kind voice and soft voice pull Solana from her inordinate thoughts. “You still thinking about that meeting?”

Solana nods. Hard not to. “It just….it wasn’t what I hoped it would be.”

Bayley presses her lips together before offering. “I get that, and I hate that for you, too, but just because that didn’t go well, doesn’t mean that this won’t.” She places down the brush she was using to set Solana’s face with powder. “Solana…” Bayley joins their hands, eye contact unwavering. “You are family. They’re not going to be upset or deny you or turn you away. They’ll have questions, maybe, sure. But, it’s not going to be this massive, hurtful thing. If I had any feeling it would be anything but accepting, I would be trying my damn hardest to talk you out of this. But, I don’t, so I’m not.” Bayley lifts one hand to touch up an unruly strand that’s shifted from the bangs she cut for her cousin not even an hour earlier. "Everything's going to be okay.”

The words are helpful. Immensely. And so greatly appreciated. More than Bayley could ever know. Especially following the day Solana has had.

“Thank you,” she whispers. Solana also manages a smile. “It—it means a lot to me.”

Bayley makes a sound. “Don’t mention it, prima.” Bayley grabs the brush once more, dusting it over Solana’s nose before assessing her work. “I must say, while the canvas is breathtaking, I do some damn good work.” She steps to the side allowing Solana a final view of the finished product. “What do you think?”

Solana thinks and feels a lot of things looking at her reflection.

Different.

It looks and feels like a different person. The bangs framing her forehead, brushing the top of her eyebrows and somehow highlighting the beautiful gold eye look Bayley did for her. Bayley’s magic continues and spreads from the highlight atop her cheek, the red lipstick on her full lips, even to the red, floral dress Solana is wearing. Initially something she thought a bit too revealing but something her cousin talked her into.

The emotion is undeniable as she finds herself almost unable to look away from herself. “I love it.” She turns to Bayley, standing up from the chair and pulling her in for a hug. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll invoice that rich ass husband of yours.” Bayley’s comments makes Solana laugh and helps her to push back the tears. She can’t ruin this stunning face. “Speaking of….”

The two break apart, and Solana sets her gaze on her husband who’s just walked in. 

Naturally, she studies the way his eyes widen slightly when he sees her. “Damn…”

Giggling, Solana walks over to him and moves her hands to his chest, asking almost nervously, “do you like it?”

She hadn’t told him about the plan to modify her dyed hair yet again by cutting bangs, wanting to surprise him. He just thought she was going to Bayley’s salon for the two to get ready together. And while that definitely happened, this happened as well.

“I love it,” he finally answers, his eyes sweeping her over. “You look beautiful, Sol.” It doesn’t matter how many times he says it, it never gets old. Never fails to make her heart swell and stomach flutter. 

“Thank you,” she murmurs, and turns her head when he goes to kiss her, reminding with a giggle, “don’t mess up my makeup!” 

He makes a sound and kisses her neck, murmuring, “I’d mess up a hell of a lot more if I could.” His big hand snakes down to grab her ass, prompting her to lightly push on his chest. 

“Behave,” she scolds, unable to deny there’s a part of her that feels the same. Pelvic rest is absolutely necessary, at least for another week or two, but the lack of that type of intimacy between them, the inability to have it has been….something, to say the least. 

Needing a distraction, she turns to Bayley while speaking to Roman. “She did an amazing job, didn’t she?”

However, it’s only then Solana sees the way Bayley rolls her eyes, not at her statement, but at Roman who is also now looking with utter boredom. 

Shoulders dropping, Solana realizes it’s time to address this issue. 

“Guys.” She pulls away from Roman, crossing her arms over her body. “This has to stop.” She looks between them. “I love you both, and I know—I know what happened was hard, and I’ll never stop being sorry for putting you two in that position, but—” She looks at Roman, “Bayley is my cousin,” she then switches her gaze to Bayley, “Roman is my husband.” She shakes her head, asserting, “neither of those facts are going to change. Ever. So, I want, I need you two to drop this. I need us all to be family.” Realizing that may be too much, at least for now, she compromises, “at least be cordial.” An assessing gaze between the two of them reveals some crumbling of steel resolve, prompting her to pull out that card. “For me?”

That does it, both Bayley and Roman looking away, revealing her final play’s success. “Fine.” Bayley is the first to speak. “I’ll try to be nicer to him.”

Roman looks like he’s almost in physical pain as he forces out a steel, “same.” 

Bayley scoffs. “Like you know how to be nice to anyone other than Sol—”

“Don’t fucking push it—”

“Guys,” Solana cuts in, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Please.”

Muttered, reluctant ‘sorry' from both of them as she shakes her head. There’s still a ways to go, but it’s a start. 

One issue tackled. Sort of.

Another major one left to go.

—------

Sitting in front of them shouldn’t be so intimidating. Shouldn’t have her tapping her foot on the floor, her attention briefly diverting to thoughts of Roman. To wondering if she should have had him stay instead of standing outside. Solana does her best to remind herself of why she initially told him that. She can do this and is capable, and she doesn’t need her husband right beside her to feel his support.

Especially when she’s got Bayley right next her.

“Thank you for—for meeting with me.” The second meeting of the day, this one, hopefully, going much better than the one from earlier. “I—I don’t know how much Bayley told you.”

Juanita offers a small smile. “Just that you needed to speak with us about something….in private.” She gestures around the vacant restaurant, the only other bodies present are the ones back in the kitchen, preparing for the night’s event.

Santos says nothing, his gaze watchful and studying. Bayley’s recommendation for him to be included and invited to this “reveal” was something she was unsure about, Roman definitely against, but something she eventually agreed to given Bayley’s valid points. He’s technically Solana’s cousin too, Melina’s partner and the father of their child, not to mention the tension that exists between him and Roman. With all the connections they share, prior to even officially meeting, it makes sense to start easing into that transition now. 

And truth be told, from the moment Santos walked into the restaurant and shook her hand and just from the little she’s seen, Solana can see why he and Roman don’t get along. It’s probably the same reason Roman is indifferent, borderline hostile to his brother. 

They’re too much alike. 

Santos exudes a strong, commanding, almost mysterious presence similar to her husband. But, there’s that almost charismatic element to him that reminds her of Matteo. 

She can only hope the three of them being under the same roof tonight won’t bring about anything bad. 

Returning to the conversation at hand, at Juanita’s statement, Solana nods and nervously clears her throat. “I’m sorry if it was any inconvenience—”

“Not at all,” Bernardo dismisses with a wave of his hand. “We are curious what this is about though.”

A fair statement. One Solana knows only she can handle.

She takes a deep breath. “I—I love to write. I—I always have. It’s—it’s something I inherited from my mother. We used to—we used to write to each other all the time.” Solana prepares to take another deep breath when Bayley places a comforting hand on her knee. Solana offers a small, appreciative smile. 

It’s the subtle, non-verbal reminder she needs. 

She nods to herself. “It’s—it’s a long story, but I was….I was sorting through her journals and putting them away in my library at my home, and I—I came across a letter she wrote me before—” Emotion catches her, Solana’s voice wavering slightly. “Before she was killed.”

Her fingers taps against the exposed skin on her thigh, as if going to reach for the letter. A letter she opted to not share in its entirety. Just the portions that confirm her mother’s true identity. 

Solana then moves to grab the papers out of her purse, handing them over. In a low voice, she directs, “you—you can read for yourselves.” 

All three wear confused expressions, but Bernardo is the one to accept the two pages, Santos and Juanita nearing closer to also gain visual access. 

Meanwhile, Solana goes to pick at the material of her dress when Bayley shifts her hand, placing it over hers. Another nod of support, her warm brown eyes converting every bit of, “it’s going to be okay.”

Solana squeezes her hand, telling herself the same thing. 

It’s going to be okay. 

A minute or two passes before the first sound of response. 

“Mio Dios…..” It’s Bernardo, and he has a closed fist covering his mouth as his wide, emotional eyes lift to Solana. “You’re Alma’s daughter?”

Juanita gasps, eyes watering. “She had a child?”

Santos looks between her and the letter, as if trying to make the connection. “How? Is it—is it just you? Are there any other children she had?”

It’s difficult to breathe, let alone respond, but Solana finds it in her to do so. “I—I apparently have a twin brother—” More gasps of shock, as she explains, “I don’t—I didn’t know until the letter. There’s a lot more in there, and it’s all so confusing, and I know it’s a lot just what you read, so if you need time—”

“No.” Again, Bernardo is the one to speak, his tone firmer. “For years, we’ve wondered what happened to my niece. Ricardo—he died of a broken heart after losing your mother, he died not knowing what happened to his only daughter. We’ve all lived with that grief, and now here you are, have been here all this time….” He stops, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry we didn’t—we couldn’t do anything to help her. To help you.”

It’s an unexpected ending that has her eyes watering. Solana replies with just as much emotion. “You—you didn’t know.”

“But, we know now,” Juanita says, wiping at her eyes. “And now that we have you, that we know who you really are….” She stops, laughing a little, “well, I can’t even call you newfound family, cause you’ve already become that for us.” Solana sniffles, not even realizing she herself has started crying. Juanita's eyes widen as she looks over at her husband. “Paloma—”

He closes his eyes, going to speak again. “Your grandfather, my brother, is no longer with us, but his widow is. Paloma—”

“I know,” Solana interrupts in a quiet voice, unsurprised at their shocked expressions. “My–my husband took me to Isla Mujeres for my birthday a couple months ago, and I—I actually met her.” Her voice breaks again, Solana blotting at her eyes as Bayley hugs her from the side. “I—I haven’t told her because—because I’m scared, and I—I didn’t know if you guys would accept me or believe me.”

“Accept you?” Bernardo echoes. Solana watches as he stands up from his chair and walks over, extending a hand. Unconsciously, she stands up, Bayley releasing her, as Solana accepts it. He gives a small squeeze. “Solana, you are family. My great niece. Mi familia.” 

What happens next is unexpected, and months prior, could have easily sent Solana spiraling and triggered the absolute hell out of her.

Bernardo pulls her into a hug, holds her, his hand cradling the back of her head. And Solana doesn’t panic, doesn’t freeze, doesn’t feel triggered. She feels safe. The comforting, almost parental, fatherly embrace is all so unfamiliar but nice.

It’s such an interesting dichotomy. With Darnell, Solana found explanations. With Bernardo and company, she’s finding empathy. Sympathy. And it’s not really until this moment that she’s realizing maybe she wasn’t looking for answers from her biological father as much as she was looking for comfort. For validation. 

For this.

Pulling away, she wipes at her eyes, laughing when Juanita pulls her into a hug that’s even tighter. 

Motherly.

Releasing her, Juanita blots at Solana’s eyes as Santos crosses his arms, taking in the sight.

“So, the great Solana Reigns all my family kept raving about is actually also family,” he says with a small chuckle. Solana turns to him, lips pressed together, listening and watching closely. “Well, welcome to the Escobar family.” His eyes narrow just a bit. “You know what this also means, right?”

“No.” Solana gasps, turning around to see her husband whose intense gaze is on Santos, Bayley standing not too far behind him with her arms crossed. She'd clearly went to get him, to invite him back inside. “Tell me.”

Naturally, Solana walks over to Roman, holding onto his arm, his gaze never once leaving Santos. 

Bayley's cousin, err, Solana’s cousin, however, doesn’t even bother to look Roman’s way. “You’re an Escobar. That means you're under the protection of the Legado Del Fantasma. The Cartel as well.”

Solana frowns. She’s heard through Bayley and even brief mentions from Jimmy and Jey about the Legado Del Fantasma, but the Cartel? That’s…..news to her, to say the least. But juxtaposed to her confusion is Roman’s anger. 

Solana has to subtly tighten her grip on his arm as he moves forward, growling, “Solana is Bloodline.”

“She’s Bloodline by marriage,” Santos corrects, swiftly. “She’s Del Fantasma by blood.” 

Bayley steps forward, breaking her silence and also the pending standoff. “So basically, Solana has protection on both sides. Through family and marriage." 

It’s such a strange thing. To go from being unprotected and subjected to all kinds of horrors for years into this space where the protection is abundant. Being told she is under the protection of two of the most feared crime syndicates in this hemisphere, maybe the world, is….something, to say the least. 

“She doesn’t need your protection,” Roman cuts in, his voice steel, Solana wishing she could do more to comfort and calm him right now. “I don’t need anyone’s help to keep my wife safe.” 

Thankfully, the role of peacemaker is taken up by her tía.

Juanita speaks up. “Let us not do this right now. This is a happy occasion. I won’t have it ruined by ego and pride.” She looks between Roman and Santos. “We will have a nice, celebratory night.”

It’s the ‘celebratory’ that reminds Solana of her stipulation, if you will. “I—I’d prefer this…this stay between us.” She motions around the room, adding, “until I—I can tell Paloma.”

Bernardo nods, agreeing. “It shall remain between us, sobrina nieta.”

The term. Great niece. It warms Solana’s soul, returns the smile on her face.

Familia. 

Family.

—--------

Roman feels out of place.

Truth be told, he’s always felt a bit out of place. But, especially in this setting, because as guests arrive and as Solana socializes and speaks with what she now knows to be her family, he just sits at the table, watching and surveying. A normal thing for him, especially considering none of these people are his friends and family. 

Except then Jimmy and Naomi arrive, Naomi invited by Bayley and Jimmy naturally tagging along. And that initial exchange is awkward, but Jimmy reminds Roman that while he has his moments, he knows when to leave shit at the door.

“I know a lot is going on, but tonight ain’t about that.” Was Jimmy’s “surrender” statement of the evening. 

Before he went to go see what food he was ordering. 

Some things never change.

Regardless, Roman feels a bit better seeing Dwayne, is slightly surprised to see Ava, who’d he previously spoken to and settled his issues with regarding her interference. But, it’s when Matteo arrives with his wife and children that it really hits Roman.

Two boys and a little girl. His biological niece and nephews. And Roman hasn’t a single fucking clue how to feel about that, doesn’t know what to feel seeing the way Matteo is attentive to both his wife and kids while still maintaining that dangerous aura about him.

He smiles and even laughs with his little girl, slaps his wife’s ass, and high fives his sons all while never coming across as weak.

He balances it all so well from the outside looking in, something Roman feels at a complete loss to.

Especially as he watches his wife. Solana, kind and loving, is all smiles and laugh. Matteo’s children seem to naturally gravitate to her, same with the other children in attendance. Like Melina and Santos son. Another business man who manages to tend to his family while maintaining his reputation. 

Meanwhile, Roman can’t even think about fatherhood without feeling all fucking weird.

It’s miserable.

And, it’s not even just them, even fucking Jimmy is going around the restaurant calling people “cousin this” and “tia that.” People he met less than an hour ago. Is singing some Selena song on karaoke with Bayely and Solana even though he doesn't know a lick of Spanish and sounds like Lucille fucking Ball.

Still, he just blends. 

They all do.

Jimmy.

Matteo.

Dwayne and Ava even, striking up conversations with people.

And Roman is just…..there.

And that’s when the overthinking hits him. Is this how it’s going to be for him as a father? This emotionally unavailable person who can’t even connect with people on a basic level. Who has to rely and depend on his wife to fulfill his kids; emotional needs, cause Lord knows he can’t.

Solana even tries to get him to dance with her, comes to sit on his lap and talk with him for a few minutes. And he declines in the subtle way he must use to avoid giving off any indication of what she means to him. And she understands, he knows she does, but it doesn’t make him feel any better. 

Especially when he sees Matteo dancing with his wife, sees Solana playfully interacting and dancing with his biological niece. People she just fucking met and is already almost bonded with. 

Something Roman is starting to think he can never have or achieve.

Even with his own children. 

Stepping away is a bit of necessity. He needs to not be surrounded by it all, by the taunts and reminders. 

Reminders of what he can never have. 

Roman stands outside, in the back patio portion of the restaurant, leaning against the brick wall, thoughts all over the damn place. 

“I know your ass is getting old, and I’m just over the hill, but even I know all the fun is happening inside.”

Dwayne’s voice, playful and teasing, pulls Roman from his thoughts as he looks over at his cousin who sports a beer in one hand. 

Roman chuckles, looking off over the terrace. “You know this isn’t my setting.”

“And yet you’re still here,” Dwayne assesses, knowingly. He steps closer, asking, “why?”

An easy answer. “You really think I was about to let her be here by herself? Around Escobar?” 

That’s another thing sitting on and weighing on him. He’s happy Solana has discovered her family. She deserves that. He’s just unsure how he feels about Solana suddenly belonging to and, rightfully, having protection from an organization he can’t control.

He’d heard whispers that Legado Del Fantasma was rooted in the Cartel, that there were connections there, some even being through Santos father. But, the Cartel has always been notorious about keeping identities for certain factions and members a secret. Helps them keep an advantage. 

Similar to the Bloodline. 

But, hearing it confirmed is something different, and Roman is now wishing he’d have not pushed off those meetings with Cartel representatives to see about forming an alliance or something of the sort.

It sure as hell would be helpful right about now. 

Dwayne makes a face. “According to Jimmy, that’s her family though.”

At that, Roman’s gaze hardens. “What?” 

Dwayne chuckles, taking a sip of his beer. “Don’t worry. He told me not to tell anyone.”

“I’m trying to figure out how the fuck he kn—” Roman stops himself, pinching his nose. It’s always something. “Yes, turns out Solana and Bayley are—”

“Cousins, right?”

Ava’s voice cuts in at the same moment Roman’s blood pressure skyrockets. 

“How the fuck do you know?” He asks, already knowing the damn answer. 

Ava shrugs, also with a beer in hand. “Jimmy.” Roman looks away, absolutely needing to count to ten to keep from killing his damn cousin. “But, don’t worry, he told me—”

“Not to tell anyone. Yeah, I know.” Roman runs his hand over his face, needing to count to ten, something Lita had brought up to help when his anger starts to rise. It sounded stupid as hell at the time but may be necessary at this moment.

 This is why he fucking hates people. 

Ava rolls her eyes. “Look, I’m only out here cause Solana asked me to check on you.”

Dwayne makes a sound. “She asked me, too.”

Hearing that somehow calms Roman a bit, reminds him of why he needs to get his shit together. For Solana. Tonight is supposed to be about and for her. She doesn’t need to be worrying about him, especially in her condition. 

“I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” Ava and Dwayne say in sync. Roman rolls his eyes. The two of them at one time is a kind of stressor he doesn’t need right now. He appreciates them both, but he’ll always appreciate solitude more. 

Especially when he needs to think.

Especially….especially when he doesn't have Fetu to talk to any more. 

“Just thinking about shit,” is the answer Roman settles on. It’s not very telling. At all. But, it’s an answer nonetheless. 

“Well, can’t say we didn’t try.” Ava shrugs, sipping more of her beer as she lowers her voice. “Hey, what’s the update on the…..ya know?”

No. Roman doesn’t know, and he asks as such. “What?”

Ava sucks her teeth and punches him on the arm. “Don’t be a dumbass. You know what I’m talking about.” His face must indicate his continued confusion as she murmurs something in Samoan. “For Solana?”

At the same time, both Dwayne and Roman are clued in.

“Oh shit, yeah,” Dwayne says first, rolling his shoulders. “You still gotta let me know the dress code.”

“Anything but white. Duh.�� Ava suddenly second guesses herself, looking over at Roman for approval. “Right?”

Roman’s answer is multifaceted. “I don’t know.” And before his annoying ass cousins can get on his ass, he clarifies. “I don’t—I don’t know if I’m still doing it.”

Both wear shocked expressions, but Dwayne is the first to comment. “The fuck you mean you’re not doing it? You have to, brother.”

Ava’s expression softens. “Roman, you know….you know it’s what Fetu would want.”

Roman looks away, knowing. Knowing that Ava is right. Fetu was so excited to attend, to be a part of it, and while her absence will kill him, he also knows his aunt would probably take a break from terrorizing people in the afterlife to haunt him if he doesn't go through with it. 

“I will. I just….I think I have to change the timeline.” 

“Change the timeline?” She shakes her head, protesting. “No. Roman, the dates you chose are literally perfect. What’s better than Christmas and Valentine's Day?”

Dwayne gestures to Ava with his thumb. “She’s right. Women love that romantic shit.”

Roman closes his eyes, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he mulls over what he’s about to say, if he should. He knows what Solana said, but something tells him she wouldn’t care in this moment. That she’d be okay with it.

Which is why he goes on and says it. 

“Solana’s pregnant.” 

A loud gasp from Ava and dropped mouth from Dwayne. “Oh my God, seriously?” Ava asks in a voice of almost awe. “Holy shit, Roman, congratulations.”

A strange sense of pride fills him at the response, a stark contrast to the confused, conflicting feelings he has towards everything else regarding this pregnancy. 

“It’s about goddamn time,” Dwayne claps him on the shoulder, pointing out, “was starting to worry you were going to fuck up our family’s reputation for being fertile as fuck.”

Roman rolls his eyes. “This coming from the man who swore off kids.”

Dwayne shrugs. “Ehh. My offspring are better served swallowed.”

Roman cracks a small smile as Ava looks utterly disgusted.

“I fucking hate men,” she spits, glare switching to something inquisitive. “How far along is she?”

“Two months,” Roman answers. Solana is closer to three months than anything, but that specific of an answer seems unnecessary. “But, I don’t—I don’t know if she’ll want to do that while pregnant.”

Ava seems to be doing the math Roman himself did when coming to his decision. “I mean, if she’s two months now, she’ll be due in May, and if you do it in February, that’ll put her at like, what, six months?” Ava shrugs. “She’ll definitely be showing, but—”

“It’s—” Roman cuts in, unsure why his voice is low, weighed down with something indistinguishable. “Twins. She’s—she’s having twins.”

Ava’s eyes double in size. “Oh shit, okay.”

Dwayne makes a low whistle sound. “Two at the same fucking time? Your ass is about to be knee deep in baby shit and piss.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Ava dismisses, voice switching to something more serious again. “I can get why you’re thinking of putting it off, but honestly….I think you should still stick with the original plan and timeline. Pregnant or not, Solana is gonna love it, regardless.”

He says nothing, trying to push away the negative, doubtful thoughts. When the idea first came to him, while he was trying to figure out what to do for her birthday, he was certain of it. Certain that it would definitely be something she’d appreciate. And as he worked out the specifics, bouncing ideas off Fetu, even Ava, navigating the logistics with Dwayne, it all seemed to be coming together almost perfectly.

And then things started to fall apart and unravel, and while they’ve been working hard to put everything back together. There’s still work to be done, and progress to be made. 

A pregnancy.

That’s really the biggest thing that’s had Roman second-guessing himself. If Solana would still be as happy and appreciative if he were to do this while she’s with child, and there’s always going to be some doubt, but Ava’s words help to settle some of the indecision. 

A lot of it, actually.

“I’ll think about it,” is the answer he settles on. “You already know this shit—”

“Stays between us,” Dwayne finishes. “Well aware.” There’s a gleam in his eyes, something similar to concern. “Are you sure you’re al—”

“Hey.”

The cousins are interrupted by another voice, another person. Matteo. 

And he looks irritated.

“You might want to get in here.”

There’s something about Matteo’s expression and the almost concern in his voice that makes Roman the first to head that way, his cousins shortly behind him. 

His stride is purposeful, the Tribal Chief heading back into the restaurant where he immediately sees and knows why Matteo called for his attention.

“Son of a bitch…..”

Roman is focused solely on his wife, on the way she's almost sandwiched between Naomi, Afia, Bayley, and now Ava, all of the women watching closely as Jimmy stands in front of Jey, arms up as if trying to block him from entering farther into the restaurant. 

And it’s as Roman gets closer, he can see why Jimmy is trying to restrict his twin. 

The smell of liquor radiates off Jey’s frame. Once in the vicinity, Roman doesn’t have time to acknowledge his wife who he can feel looking at him. 

“What the hell are you doing here, Jey?” Roman’s question is calmly and coldly delivered, his fist at his side clenching and unclenching because what the fuck?

Jey’s glazed eyes fall on him as he makes a sound. “Ah,h shit, there he is, Mr. Tribal Chief himself.”

Jimmy glances at Roman. “I got this, Roman.”

“Obviously, you don’t,” Roman snaps, refocusing on Jey. “You need to leave.”

Now. Immediately. He shouldn’t even be there in the first damn place.

Jey makes a sound and snatches his arm away from Jimmy. “Man, I ain’t going nowhere. This some b–bullshit. Ya’ll tryna—tryna ice me out and shit!”

“Jey.” Roman turns to see Solana has stepped forward, Afia and Bayley both watching Roman's drunk ass cousin the whole time, as if wanting to see if he’s going to do anything. Protectively, almost. Naomi, however, just looks so frustrated with it all. Understandably so. “That’s not—”

“Oh look!” Jey’s volume increases. “It’s—it’s the queen herself! The one who—who started all this shit!” He smiles and laughs, Roman rolling his neck, sensing Matteo and Dwayne who now stand closely behind him. Also protectively. “Shit, Soso, I used to think—to think me and you was—was cool.”

“That’s enough, man,” Jimmy’s stern voice is conjoined with him once again trying to guide his brother out the restaurant. “This ain’t the time or place.”

“It certainly isn’t.” Santos joins in, Roman not missing the men that move behind him, clearly ready and waiting. He looks over at Roman, nodding, “get him out of here, or we will.”

It’s a threat. Obviously. Clearly. And Roman can’t even be upset with it. Jey coming on neutral territory trying to start some shit is unacceptable. 

Embarrassing

“I ain’t going n–nowhere—”

“The hell you aren’t.” Roman turns to see Dwayne walking past him, bypassing Jimmy as he aggressively grabs Jey by the collar of his shirt. “You’re fucking embarrassing yourself, Jey.”

Jey’s inebriation is even more evident as he goes to take a poorly aimed swing at Dwayne who easily dodges as such, instead taking the opportunity to spin Jey around and start pushing him out. “Let’s go,” he barks, Jimmy moving behind him, trying to talk some sense into his hotheaded twin.

“Man! Fuck ya’ll! I got something for all ya’ll asses!”

It’s that last sentence that makes Roman’s jaw clench. Whatever leash Jey had on his temper all these years has clearly been dropped. Roman hasn’t seen his cousin this reckless since they were in their twenties. 

But, as soon as Santos steps forward, inches away from Roman, Matteo moving to stand directly beside his brother, Roman already knows what’s about to be said. “Anything fucking happens on this territory—”

“I’ll handle it,” Roman asserts. He’s pissed, livid, and not even at the man before him. Santos is doing what anyone in that position would do. Reminding a potential enemy what potential consequences await should anyone be stupid enough to try anything.

Someone stupid like Jey.

Santos simply nods, saying something in Spanish causing his men to disperse. 

“Jey’s becoming a problem.” Matteo speaks in Italian, clearly wanting the umbrella of privacy. Roman turns to look at him. “This can’t continue.”

Roman hates being told what he already knows, but there’s something in this that makes him simply agree. “I know.”

“Roman.” He looks down to see Solana now on the other side of him, realizes she’s holding onto his arm, looking up with eyes that give away what she wants before even saying anything. “Let’s go. home”

And just like that, the anger slips into guilt. Guilt that what was supposed to be a nice night for her has turned into this shitshow. Looking around, he sees the crowd has dispersed, Naomi nowhere to be seen as Bayley and Afia talk amongst themselves. The band resumes the music, and it appears as if they’re trying to resume like nothing happened. But, something did happen, and it’s ruined whatever enjoyment Solana was having.

Fuck.

“Solana—”

“It’s fine,” she interrupts, voice low and almost subtle. God, he fucking hates this. “Let’s—let’s just go….please.”

It’s that last word that pulls him over. “Alright.”

She gives a small nod of appreciation and turns to walk away, clearly to tell everyone goodbye, starting with Bayley and Afia and the latter’s kids who have come hovering near their mother.

“So….” Matteo speaks again, crossing his arms over his chest. “How are you going to handle this?”

Roman just looks at him and says nothing. 

He says nothing because he has no idea. 

He has no idea how he’s going to handle this. 

—----------

The drive home is mostly silent, not much conversation transpiring between husband and wife. Once in the safety of their humble abode, Solana works to get Dulce settled as Roman heads straight to the shower, eventually finding himself sitting outside, wanting, almost needing the distraction of the beautiful night sky.

But, it’s after Solana has also showered, she finds and joins him on the balcony of their master bedroom. Wordlessly, she climbs onto his lap, hands to his face, her eyes and voice pleading. “Talk to me.”

Roman closes his eyes, saying nothing, prompting her to clarify, “and don’t try to say it was the Jey situation. You….you were off before that even happened.”

“It didn’t help,” he mutters. An honest thing. Roman needs to figure something out, because Jey’s behavior tonight was unacceptable. It was embarrassing. Embarrassing to him, but more importantly, embarrassing to the Bloodline.

And as the Tribal Chief, Roman can’t have that. Thus, he needs to find a way to resolve this shitshow. And fast. 

He opens his eyes, looking directly at her. “Solana—”

“Roman.” Her voice is firmer, her gaze never leaving him. “The truth.”

It’s difficult to lie to her. Always has been. It was just what he felt he needed to do at certain points, but in this moment, in a stark contrast to prior ones, he almost doesn’t want to. He wants to get this off his chest. 

So, he does.

With a heavy sigh, Roman does his best to explain all of the many things he’s been feeling the past few weeks. “Solana, I don’t—I don’t know how to do it.”

She frowns, her thumb brushing over the apple of his bearded cheek. “Do what, baby?”

His jaw tightens. “Be a father.”

Roman sees it. Sees the way her shoulders drop, sees the sadness in her eyes. “Ro….”

“I watched you tonight. I watched how you…..you connected with everyone. Connected with the kids. It’s—natural for you.” Roman closes his eyes, the words continuing to roll out almost autonomously from this place of rare vulnerability. “You’re a good person, Solana. You—you have a heart. A big heart. You were made to be a parent. A mother. I don’t—I don’t think I was made to be—”

“Don’t,” she cuts him off, her voice a perfect mixture of emotion and conviction. “Don’t say that. Don’t you ever say that, Ro.” Her eyes are watering as she gives him an emotional smile. “Roman, you have a heart, too. A big heart. You just….you’re not allowed to show it as much as I do, not in public at least, because of who you are. But, I see it all the time, I feel it all the time when we’re together.” She shakes her head, moving her hand to push back some of his hair. “I always feel so loved with and by you, and that’s exactly what our girls are going to feel.”

He swallows. “Solana—”

“What kind of father are you in your dreams?”

A valid, fair question that takes him back. Roman starts to protest, starts to push back on her, but there’s a fiery determination in her gaze that tells him doing so won’t do anything but make her push back on him even more.

He thinks about it, finally answering, almost reluctantly. “Fine.”

“Bullshit.” Another taken back expression. It feels almost wrong to hear his sweet, innocent wife curse, but she does so without hesitation. “They adore you, don’t they?” He says nothing, sensing she’s not done. “Always want to be around you, and Lina wants to be just like you, huh?”

Right away, he’s hit with flashes of scenes from the collections of dreams he’s had. Smiles. Laughter. Love. All things from two small children who are the perfect combination of himself and Solana. 

Twin girls. 

Their girls.

Catalina and Cataleya Reigns. 

But as quickly as that arrives, reality sets in.

Despite the turmoil within, his hand on the small of her back continues to rub soothing circles that do more for him than her. “Solana, those are just—they’re just dreams.”

“No.” She shakes her head, voice softening to another level. “They’re visions. Visions of our future. Of the lives we’re going to have. Of the family we’re going to have. Of the father you’re going to be.”

“I should feel something though, Solana,” he stresses. “You’re pregnant, and I don’t….I don’t know how to feel about it. I’m not upset, but I’m not….I don’t feel what you do.”

It’s a sad, almost scary, embarrassing thing to admit. To tell his wife that he doesn’t know how to feel about a pregnancy she’s ecstatic about. But, he does. Because he owes her that much.

Owes her honestly.

“That’s okay, Roman.” The surprises continue, because her response, the tone of almost sympathy, are most certainly not what he was expecting. “I know feelings are hard for you, and I know this is a new experience for you. That’s….that’s okay. What’s not okay is you thinking or even believing you can’t do this, because you can. And you don’t have to do it alone. We’re going to do it together.”

Roman inhales deeply, trying his best to let her words penetrate his strong exterior. 

And then she continues to show her sainthood, continues to show just how she’s far too good for him. “Roman….” Her eyes shift downward, and so do his. Only then does he realize while one hand is on her back, the other is planted on her stomach. Her hand over his. “I’m—I’m carrying them, so I think….I think that makes that bond stronger, easier even.” Roman doesn’t say anything, but it’s impossible for him to not think about how that’s exactly what Lita had said to him.

“What if I can’t connect with them?” A quiet, almost hushed escapee from that deeply embedded box of fears he keeps tucked away. It consists of only a few things, very few, and that most definitely happens to be one of them. “If I can’t—bond with them like you?”

“You won’t bond and connect with them like I do, because I’m their mother. That relationship between mother and daughters is always going to be different from that of father and daughters. There’s something….something special about that. Something you’ll have with them that I can never have because it’s just different, but I promise you, Roman. It’ll be there, baby.” Solana shifts her body on his lap, leaning into her chest, hugging him, laying her head in the crook of his neck. Naturally, Roman holds her, kissing her temple, thankful for her words, for her support, for her belief in him, for her.

“And maybe…maybe it won’t be now.” She moves her hand up and down his chest, a comforting gesture. “Maybe it won’t really hit for you during the pregnancy, and that’s okay, because I know, the minute you hold them for the first time, it’ll click. You’ll feel it then. Feel that love.”

Love.

Once something that was unfamiliar and foreign to him, now something that overwhelms him with its depth and weight whenever he’s around this woman. And it’s that thought, that thought of how Solana managed to completely turn his life around in the best way possible that convinces him maybe, just maybe, she’s right.

“Thank you.” Another whispered thing that emanates from the deepest part of him. “Thank you, Solana.”

She makes a sound and kisses the underside of his bearded jaw. “Never have to thank me for loving you, Ro.” It’s a natural thing for her at this point. Something that feels like it was always meant to be.

They were always meant to be.

—-------

Blood. 

So much blood. 

Too much blood.

She has to save him.

Spewing, streaming, bleeding from open, gaping wounds. So many wounds, the blood saturating the dark, bulky armor that he wears. Armor that, no matter how much she tries, she can’t get off him. And she needs to get it off to treat him, to help him, to do what no one else will.

Because no one else is there.

It’s him, and it’s her, and she has to save him. 

There is no one else to do so.

But try as hard as she can, for all of her efforts, Solana’s hands and clothes continue to stain red from the blood that continues to pour out of him at an alarming rate, much quicker than anything she’s ever seen, which is how she knows there are several bullet and/or stab wounds

She has to save him. 

Her mouth opens, words of desperation and pleas tumbling out as works endlessly to treat him, begs of mercy to God, to whomever, to anyone, to hear her cries. Blood soaked hands that intermittently go to shake him, to keep him from drifting, but she knows this scene. Knows it all too well. 

Has seen it play out before.

And, it guts her.

“Stay with me, okay?” She gasps, her chest feeling like it’s about to explode at any moment. “Just—just stay, okay? You’re—you’re gonna be okay.”

He says nothing, has said nothing, just continues to lay there, rendered silent to his injuries. Injuries he’s slowly succumbing to. 

“I’m gonna s—s–ave you,” she promises, going back to trying to remove the goddamn armor for him only for it to not bulge once more. She shouts out in frustration, gasping violently, using her forearm to wipe at her eyes. The tears blurring her vision serve as a barrier she can’t afford. “It’s—Roman?” Breathing halts. Time stops. Existence ceases. “R–Ro?” A trembling hands digs through the material covering his neck to feel for his pulse, Solana immediately gasping and snatching back her hand. “N–no.” Solana shakes her head, moving to shake him. “R—Roman, wake up. Please—please wake up—” Her please of mercy are a stark contrast to the empty, vacant look in his eyes. A look she’s only seen once before on the only other day of her life where it all ended.

The day her mother was killed.

The sob escapes from the back of her throat, as she moves her body over his, still trying to shake him awake, refusing to lose him to the devastating grips of fate. “W–wake up!” Her cries echo in the void of the abyss that surrounds him. “You–you can’t leave us. W—wake up!”

“Solana!”

Solana shoots up with a violent gasp, immediately hyperventilating, eyes wide and forward and focused on nothing in general. Not at first, at least. It’s only when Roman hits the light on the nightstand and moves his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks, Solana starts to come down from the shock and into the hysterics.

She moves her hands to his bare chest, feeling around, needing to feel and see for herself.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” His voice finally registers, as she realizes he’s been trying to talk to and calm her down this entire time. “Solana—”

“It felt so real,” she cries, unable to shake the violent imagery away. “You were—” She can barely get the words out, something Roman seems against as he tries to settle, seeing how talking is even more distressing for her. “I couldn’t—I couldn’t save you.”

It’s only then he seems to understand why she’s so upset, knows the content of her dreams, “baby, I’m fi—”

“I can’t lose you,” she gasps, moving her hands to his forearms, holding him. “I can’t lose you, Roman.”

“You’re not going to, Sol,” he vows, hand cradling the back of her head. “Baby, I’m fine. Nothing is going to—”

Solana continues to shake her head, one hand dropping to her stomach. “I can’t—I can’t raise the girls without you.”

“You won’t,” he promises, expression sympathetic. “Solana, I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

“Promise me.” Her voice is sudden and desperate, her eyes wide and filled with tears. “Promise me nothing’s going to happen to you.”

There’s hesitation, only for a second, but not enough to draw her attention. “I promise nothing’s going to happen to me, Solana.”

Words. A sentence. But, it does something for her. Clearly and visibly decreases her spiked anxiety. Solana nods, closing her eyes and moving herself into Roman’s chest as he guides them so that they’re laying back down, her body pressed into his.

Unaware that at the same time Roman tries to comfort his wife, elsewhere across town, various notifications arrive. One a text, the other an answer. 

One of departure from one group. 

*Jey Uso has left the Operation RoSo conversation*

One informing of arrival into another.

Jey Uso: I’m in.

[ridefm]

i  want  to  ,  first  and  foremost  ,  say  how  insanely  grateful  i  am  to  every  single  one  of  you  for  applying  and  joining  me  here  .  i  did  not  anticipate  this  much  interest  in  the  group  but  i'm  so  happy  so  many  of  you  were  interested  enough  to  click  on  the  blog  let  alone  apply  .  i  can't  wait  to  start  writing  with  everybody  and  see  all  your  beautiful  ,  gorgina  ,  fantastic  muses  in  action  .  the  discord  server  link  is  in  the  source  so  join  me  over  there  and  let's  have  a  ball  !

gabriela  vargas  (  priscilla  quintana  )  ,  played  by  ev  !

emine  tokas  (  hande  ercel  )  ,  played  by  emmy  !

carter  morgan  (  leo  woodall  )  ,  played  by  emmy  !

adan  vargas  (  jd  pardo  )  ,  played  by  tommy  !

camryn  morgan  (  finn  cole  )  ,  played  by  tommy  !

natalia  bello  (  greta  onieogou  )  ,  played  by  kali  !

dakota  harrison  (  lily  rose  depp  )  ,  played  by  kali  !

robyn  howlett  (  mikey  madison  )  ,  played  by  kiwi  !

kivanc  tatlitug  (  emre  yilmaz  )  ,  played  by  kiwi  !

joaquin  mendoza  (  carlos  miranda  )  ,  played  by  marie  !

jamie  kuiper  (  michiel  huisman  )  ,  played  by  metric  !

león  sepulveda  (  clayton  cardenas  )  ,  played  by  metric  !

wallace  b.  hayes  (  aaron  pierre  )  ,  played  by  veda  !

selena  rojas  (  yaya  dacosta  )  ,  played  by  veda  !

marianne  dellmount  (  sophie  thatcher  )  ,  played  by  paige  !

tyson  shaw  (  travis  fimmel  )  ,  played  by  j  !

richard  robles  (  danny  ramirez  )  ,  played  by  j  !

august  evensen  (  austin  butler  )  ,  played  by  riles  !

vanessa  socorro  (  melissa  barerra  )  ,  played  by  riles  !

soline  durand  (  adele  exarchopolous  )  ,  played  by  e  !

caroline  hawkins  (  grace  van  patten  )  ,  played  by  lynn  !

emilia  acosta  (  maia  reficco  )  ,  played  by  lynn  !

eloisa  marie  acevedo  (  jenna  ortega  )  ,  played  by  boo  !

samiye  burakgazi  (  devri  özkan  )  ,  played  by  kayla  !

aurora  thatcher  (  kathryn  newton  )  ,  played  by  sarah  !

milo  parker  (  harrison  dickinson  )  ,  played  by  mira  !

cassiopeia  johnson  (  hunter  schafer  )  ,  played  by  beth  !

helena  santos  (  jordana  brewster  )  ,  played  by  kayla  !

diago  alcaraz  (  peter  gadiot  )  ,  played  by  skye  !

calanthe  rivera  (  christina  nadin  )  ,  played  by  t  !

solana  hira  (  simone  kessell  )  ,  played  by  rie  !

camille  king  (  savannah  lee  smith  )  ,  played  by  rie  !

easton  underwood  (  barry  sloane  )  ,  played  by  lucy  !

elijah  moore  (  aldis  hodge  )  ,  played  by  lucy  !

westley  thorn  (  penn  badgley  )  ,  played  by  june  !

savannah  hill  (  madelyn  cline  )  ,  played  by  e  !

seung  jia  (  bae  suzy  )  ,  played  by  e  !

diego  chihuán  (  benjamin  bratt  )  ,  played  by  ray  !

rhea  blakely  (  keke  palmer  )  ,  played  by  ray  !

rian  washington  (  aaron  taylor  johnson  )  ,  played  by  dani  !

mikaela  morales  (  adria  arjona  )  ,  played  by  bri  !

nadia  amira  young  (  jenna  dewan  )  ,  played  by  bri  !

emiliano  echer  cárdenas  (  alex  meraz  )  ,  played  by  alice  !

oisin  riordan  (  kieran  culkin  )  ,  played  by  bunny  !

arthur  castle  (  daniel  kaluuya  )  ,  played  by  bunny  !

alexis  tamer  (  laura  harrier  )  ,  played  by  day  !

lynette  woods  (  katheryn  winnick  )  ,  played  by  budgie  !

apsara  tuan  (  davika  hoorne  )  ,  played  by  xan  !

soledad  valdéz  (  ana  de  armas  )  ,  played  by  tea  !

esra  yildiz  (  ayca  aysin  turan  )  ,  played  by  tea  !

marilou  miller  (  michelle  randolph  )  ,  played  by  j2  !

ri-na  nam  (  lee  dahee  )  ,  played  by  loma  !

katerina  chihuán  dankova  (  angelina  jolie  )  ,  played  by  loma  !

layla  ferguson  (  meghann  fahy  )  ,  played  by  em  !

mikhail  rhodes  (  emilio  sakraya  )  ,  played  by  nala  !

rhys  blanco  (  sean  teale  )  ,  played  by  nala  !

darlene  wyman  (  taylor  russell  )  ,  played  by  cornelia  !

kristian  bartlett  (  katy  o'brian  )  ,  played  by  efka  !

ryker  boone  (  rory  culkin  )  ,  played  by  ghost  !

jay  lozada  (  michael  cimino  )  ,  played  by  maya  !

madhavi  nandamuri  (  sobhita  dhulipala  )  ,  played  by  maya  !

wanphen  suthamphong  (  namtan  tipnaree  )  ,  played  by  natty  !

isobel  amelia  rhysling  (  cailee  spaeny  )  ,  played  by  nina  !

lokpreet  virk  (  dev  patel  )  ,  played  by  k  !

jordan  lewis  (  omari  hardwick  )  ,  played  by  k  !

[bumblepony]

Okay, it's getting colder here and I need warm thoughts. I demand you share with me three Tommy/Maria autumnal headcanons.

(I demand politely with hat in hand). xx

Oh this is a lovely one and strangely enough one I've thought about. I'm actually going to give you six as a bonus. Three Canon verse HC and Three no apocalypse verse HC.

No Apocalypse Verse

1. Tommy is a huge apple cider fan—all things apple cider, the drink, the donuts, the scent. If it's fall, it's apple cider. Maria is a Pumpkin Spice girl. Fall is all things PS all the time. There are wars in the T/M household on what is better. Tommy once spent a week on the couch when he changed out all the candles in the house to apple-scented candles when Maria wasn't looking. Maria once had to buy Tommy two jugs of apple cider when she changed his Starbucks order to a PSL on the app instead of an apple cider macchiato as a joke.

2. They love fall foliage tours. They've been up to the Adirondack every year to take the train ride that goes through the mountains. They are major leaf peepers, and it drives Joel crazy because every year, they try to get him and Tess to go. Joel could care less about the turning of the leaves, and Tess could care less too, honestly, but she loves to fuck with Joel, so she'll set them up to go just to drive him crazy.

3. Once they have their first son Mateo, who just so happens to have been born in the fall, (which was not in any way orchestrated by Maria keeping meticulous track of her cycles so she could make sure when the best moment for conception would be) they do a photoshoot of him in a pumpkin each year. Then, when they have their daughter Tilly (also born in the fall, hmmm, Tommy's starting to ask questions), the tradition continues. By the time little Solana is born also in the fall (okay Maria this is gettin' ridiculous darlin' how did I not notice you were doin' this.) It's a whole thing: baby, toddler, and kid in a pumpkin. It's getting harder and harder to find big enough pumpkins. When the kids are all grown up, they get together to do a joke photoshoot of a reenactment of their first group photo as kids for Tommy and Maria's anniversary gift. Tommy laughs so hard he snots whiskey out of his nose. Maria laughs too but she also gets Teary-Eyed at seeing all her babies so grown up. It goes on the living room wall in a place of honor and never comes down.

Canon Verse

1. Maria is the one doing all the fall activities in Jackson, she loves it, it's one of her favorite times of year. When Tommy comes along he wholeheartedly throws himself in as well. It's actually how they end up falling in love. One late night while Tommy is helping her get the sting lights up for the fall dance, he turns them on and she looks so beautiful in the glowing bulbs that he can't help but tell her and then fate is set.

2. Tommy hates Halloween, always has. Part of it could be the time he snuck down to watch the Halloween movie from the stairs when he was 8 years old, and his big brother, at 13, was watching the movie with his then-friend Shawna, who he very much wanted to be his girlfriend in hopes that she would cuddle close to him during the jump scares. She did, and they were blissfully together for a whole week; Joel even got his first French kiss from it. But all Tommy got was nightmares about Micheal Meyers trying to break into his house on Halloween to kill him and his family. So yeah, Tommy doesn't like Halloween. But every year, he sucks it up and puts on the brave Uncle Tommy face and the goofiest of costumes to make first Sarah happy and then Ellie 20 years later. Because that's what good uncles do. Maria knows, though, and she does everything she can to try and make the holiday as stress-free as she can for him. They have no decorations inside the house, and what they do have outside is the bare minimum, and it's all silly, not scary.

3. Tommy and Maria still love the fall foliage. Their favorite thing to do is to sit outside on their porch in Jackson, Tommy siping his hot apple cider and Maria siping her PS coffee that she makes herself, and they watch the seasons change. Both of them are secretly happy that their little community ended up in a part of the US that has the change of the seasons. On beautiful fall days, Tommy likes to take Maria outside of Jackson into the woods with all the leaves, and they pile them up and dance in them. Ellie lets them borrow her walkmen so they can each put one headphone in one ear each and listen to the music as they sway together.

[sunlights-daughter]

Telemachus didn't know how he got here.

One second, he was with Iris and Penny. And then another, he was in an orange T-shirt with a backpack on his shoulders, standing in the middle of what seemed to be a camp.

When he spotted Solana, he thought of Iris. Weird. And... Oh, goodness. She noticed him.

- @banished-tele

"Oh!" Solana ran over and examined him. He didn't look familiar, but she got some feeling in her gut. Nothing like pure absolute dread, but a strange feeling.

But like always, she dismissed it.

"Welcome to Camp Half-Blood! I'm assuming you're new?" She tilted her head like a curious puppy. "Your rugged face makes me think.. maybe Ares or Hephaestus? Or were you not claimed yet? Though that'd be strange.." she narrowed her eyes, but she shrugged.

"I dunno! Anyways, I haven't seen you around! Did I technically already say that?-"