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ichorai · 1 year

Text

hell, yeah ; roman roy ; part three (m).

pairing ; roman roy x f!reader

synopsis ; pain was an old friend for the both of you.

words ; 14.4k

themes ; fluff, angst, drama, slowburn, suggestive, childhood friends to lovers

warnings / includes ; depictions of mental and physical abuse, talks of sexual misconduct (cruises incidents), mentions of death, a lot of sexual/suicidal jokes and general foul language, a lot of business talk, roman’s implied demisexuality, kendall is Losing it this chappie, fucked up family dynamics, imaginary dead cats & real dead sisters <3

a/n ; tumblr is being a bitch and not letting me turn off beta editor so :) what was originally going to be one massive chapter of s3 is now going to be broken down in shorter pieces!

series masterlist. main masterlist.

“Logan Roy was personally and fully aware of the crimes committed aboard Brightstar Cruises,” said the news reporter. “Kendall Roy says his father paid millions of dollars to hide and cover up criminal activity at the cruise line.”

You shut the tablet off, pinching the space between your brows as you drew out a deep exhale.

“This is fucking insane,” Roman muttered under his breath as he scrolled through Twitter, under his brother’s trending hashtag. “He’s gone off the rocks.”

Leaning forward, you asked the twins, “You guys don’t think he’s telling the truth, right?”

Rome shot you a quizzical glance. “Kendall doesn’t know how to tell the truth. It’s against his biological nature.” After a moment, he let out a high-pitched, “But…”

“What?” asked Shiv.

“I may not be team Kenny here, but, uh… Dad isn’t exactly unsqueezable right now,” he said. His eyes met yours. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m wondering if Kendall just fucked us over. Again. I mean, obviously I didn’t want him to be the scapegoat for cruises but this is—this is just something else entirely.” Then you nudged Shiv. “What about you?”

The woman screwed her lips into a purse. “I’m thinking we just need to back Dad right now. But… what am I actually thinking?” She lowered her voice to a whisper you could only barely hear. “I’m thinking, ‘Is he toast?’”

Her brows pulled together, wondering if she should’ve divulged that information to either of you.

“Yeah,” you said, clearing your throat. “I think there might be a chance that he could be burnt.”

The three of you stood in silence. Roman closed the stupid bird app before he could see another edit of his brother to a Lana Del Rey song, and slid his phone into his pocket.

It was then that Hugo and Gerri strode up, expressions grim. A Kendall-shaped bomb was dropped on them, and they were all scrambling to get things together whilst Logan stared angrily out of a window.

“Hi. Listen, I’m drowning in calls,” said Hugo. “I just want to deny, you know, any kind of speculation. So, uh, I’m just checking—we’re all good if I say, for a starter, that he never hurt anyone and he never touched anyone personally?”

Roman scowled, as if it was a ludicrous question to even take into consideration, and Gerri answered on everybody’s behalf. “You can reassure on that, Hugo.”

A second later, Logan’s voice rang out from across the room. “Did you know?” he asked. “Connor? Roman? Shiv? Did you know?”

Apprehensive, the siblings crept closer to their father, who still had his back turned to them. You crossed your arms and listened on from behind Roman.

“Did you know he was going to do that?” he queried once they were all close by. “I was wondering.”

“Obviously not, dad,” Rome said.

A muscle in Logan’s jaw twitched. “Uh-huh.”

Roman scratched at the back of his head. “Kendall’s mentally ill. He’s insane.” He needs help, he wanted to say, but wisely bit down on his tongue before it could slip.

There was a long moment of silence. Shiv eyes darted from her father to her husband.

Finally, Logan turned to face his children. “Everyone. Gather up! Battle stations—let’s go.”

The small group rounded around a table with Logan at the very head. It was Gerri who started with a proposal, all heads turned to listen to her.

“I suggest I call the DOJ, and we right away let them know how horrified we were to learn of these allegations. We can tell them we intend to form a special committee and we can inform them which white shoe law firms we are considering to thoroughly investigate and promptly report back their findings,” said the woman.

Shiv watched her godmother with mild unease. She was a woman to look up to, she was competition, she was better than anyone else here, and she was an accomplice. Then, her eyes darted to you, your fingers silently drumming along the table’s surface. There was no doubt Logan would be forced to announce his successor soon. Would you be competition for the throne, as well? You’d certainly make for a formidable CEO.

“Do we cooperate?” asked Logan.

There was a brief moment of puzzled silence.

Gerri’s brows furrowed as she replied, “With the government? Uh, yeah. I think we’re gonna have to cooperate. I mean, we were under pressure already—”

“Unless we don’t,” Roman cut in.

“That’s ridiculous. Not cooperating would be like shining the fucking spotlight right onto us. This is a public company—we tanked privatization in Turkey,” you vehemently protested.

To that, Gerri agreed. “We don’t know what they have or what they might get. There’s only one real play here.”

“What if I don’t want to pull down my panties so fast?” grumbled Logan.

“Then we pull up the draw-bridge. The story would be that he’s exploiting these poor women—and that’s very sad. Twitter would tear him apart. You were grooming him for the top and, wow, would you look at that? He relapsed, and he blew it,” Roman said. Both you and Shiv exchanged worried, distasteful glances. “He’s a bitter fuck-up that needs to be psychiatrically evaluated. Of course, you’re the big baddie, so everybody jumped on board.”

Brows cinching, Shiv asked, “What about these papers he says he has?”

“Uh… fake. Or stolen, if they even exist. Are we even worried about these papers? We’ll go after him for corporate theft, then,” he spouted off. “This is—you know—not a nice thing to say about your son, but maybe chop him up into a million pieces and throw him into the Hudson?

You destroy Kendall, it falls apart.”

It was strange to think, just twenty-four hours ago, the two brothers were quite amicable with each other. As brotherly as people like them could be, at least. Now they were on opposite sides of the chessboard, waiting for the play.

Frank and Karl started listing off a couple stats, and Shiv sat forward in her seat.

“Kendall’s changed the game,” she said. “Noncooperation now, it wouldn’t—it’s just too hot out there. I think it’s very high risk.”

“Everything’s high risk if you’re a pussy,” Roman said, picking at his nails.

You frowned. “If we don’t cooperate, it’ll just make us look all the more guilty.”

And what if we are? The brief thought crossed your mind. What if everything Kendall said was true?

“If I stop picking at scabs and saying sorry, who knows where we’ll end up. Admissions of wrongdoing—that’s billions out the door,” Logan said.

His words made your expression falter just a little bit.

“Get the raisin,” your godfather told Hugo, referring to the American president. “Let’s go to the top.”

The planes heading back to New York were readied soon after. Just as you stepped out of the car that took you to the tarmac, your phone began to buzz in your pocket. To your relief, Roman was busy chattering to Gerri, and you were able to step away from the group to pull your phone out.

Kendall’s contact name stared right back up at you. You sucked at your teeth in thought, before swiftly answering.

“Hello?”

He sang your name then, in a pitch too high for his caliber.

“What do you want?”

“What do I want?” he parroted. “I want you in, Y/N. You’ve got a premium spot right by my side, in the new company I’m going to build. You’re the glue, dude. You are.”

A shifty glance back at Roman and Shiv, Logan and Gerri. You took a few steps closer to the plane.

“Is it true?”

“What?”

“What you said on TV. That Logan knew about cruises and paid it off.”

A brief pause.

“Obviously,” he said. “Obviously it’s true. I’d never lie to you, Y/N. You’re like—you’re like a sister to me, you know?”

“Have you called Shiv? Offered her a place, too? Roman?”

A longer silence.

“No,” he finally said.

It was a lie, you knew it clear as day. But you didn’t know exactly which part of it was a lie.

“I can’t trust you,” you murmured into the phone, shifting the device in your palms. Roman’s eyes were now on you. He waved, and you waved back, shooting him a thumbs up when he gestured to the plane. “You understand that, right? I can’t trust you, as much as I want to.”

Before he could respond, you abruptly hung up, and quickly shoved your phone back into your pocket to jog to the rest of the group.

“Who were you talking to?” Roman asked once you caught up with him, mildly suspicious.

“Karolina,” you quickly lied. “She wanted to know what the play was.”

“Mmh. Right.” He nudged his shoulder into yours. “We’ll be okay.”

“I’m not so sure.”

Roman’s eyes searched yours, but you averted them when his dad approached the group. His sunglasses were perched high on the bridge of his nose—you could see your worried reflection in them. He asked for a lawyer: a good one, preferably a woman.

Lisa came to mind, one of the most reputable lawyers in the country, conveniently a friend of Shiv’s.

“Shiv, Roman, Gerri, Y/N—you’ll all go back to manage New York,” said your godfather. “No need for me to go running back like a slapped girl. Looks weak.”

Pursing your lips, you offered him a nod. “We’ll take care of it.”

“Good,” he said, patting your cheek affectionately. Once, then twice, then his hand fell back down to his side. He used to do that when you were a young child, sporting pigtails and scraped knees. “Good.”

Then, he ruffled Roman’s hair. “Fuck off down there, Tumbledown Dick.”

And with that, the two of you, along with Shiv and Gerri, boarded the plane.

“As I step back temporarily…” began Logan, surveying Karl, Frank, Hugo, and Tom in front of him, “who do we like as CEO?”

They stared at him blankly.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Logan huffed in exasperation. “It’s name plates. Come on! Brain dump. Speak, and let a hundred flowers bloom.”

Unsurprisingly, Frank and Karl didn’t hesitate to offer themselves up first. Tom watched the older men apprehensively. The two were quick to be pushed to the side, and Logan snapped his fingers.

“Who else?”

“I mean, I imagine you’re looking at a kid. Or Gerri,” said Frank.

“Yeah. Yes. I’d like a kid, obviously. So—Shiv or Roman. But we’d love a woman. So, Shiv or Gerri. But I’d like experience. Which would be Roman or Gerri.”

Leaning forward in his seat, Hugo cleared his throat. “Well, there’s one obvious person who’s got all three of those. Y/N, she’s young, she’s a woman, and she’s experienced. A perfect candidate.”

Silence stretched thin between the men. Logan tilted his head in thought. Tom quietly excused himself to run to the bathroom.

On the plane heading to New York, Shiv’s phone began to ring, and she excused herself to the back where neither you, Roman, or Gerri could hear her. Gerri pushed her glasses further up her nose as she studied a text message on her phone. Silent, she gestured to the two of you to take a look.

A message from Frank. They were picking a new CEO, right then and there.

When Shiv came back quiet as a mouse, Roman started up a bitchy catfight with his sister for not sharing with the group.

“How come Frank called you and how come you told them?” Shiv asked her godmother.

Gerri shrugged. “I’m just a very straightforward person, Shiv.”

“What’d you hear?”

She glanced at her phone once more. “Just that there’s a number of names in contention.”

“All of us, probably,” you said with a mild grimace.

Roman slung his arm over your shoulders, jostling you ever so slightly. “Care to make it interesting? Throw a bit of money on the table?”

“I’m already pretty fuckin’ interested,” Shiv replied, nose wrinkling. “I think I’m good.” With that, she turned to her side to look out the window.

Drawing in a shallow breath, you loosely intertwined your hand with Roman’s. “You think you’d be ready to take on the mantle if you got the job?” you quietly asked him.

“Fuck, yeah. It should be me, right? I’m the most logical option.”

You stared at him for a moment, wondering how much of what he’d just said was utter bullshit.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

Roman tapped your nose twice and you fixed him with an exasperated look. “Like you don’t agree with me. But you do, right?”

“I don’t know, Ro. I don’t think what Kendall pulled means you should suddenly be crowned king,” you muttered. “I don’t think any of us should.”

When you eventually passed out beside Roman, your legs thrown over his, he waved a hand in front of your face, just making sure you were actually asleep. As gently as he could, Roman slid away from your legs to get up and set them back down on his seat. He bent at the waist to kiss your forehead and you murmured something in your sleep, but thankfully didn’t stir anymore than that.

He made a bee-line for the plane’s bathroom, locking the door behind him.

Then, he called his father.

“Oh, Romulus,” Logan’s voice buzzed through once he answered after the second ring.

“Hiya, Dad. Can I just—can I speak to you for a moment? You free?”

“Sure.”

Roman leaned his weight against the sink. “Well, um, it’s already getting out what you’re thinking about so… I just wanted to throw a couple things in the ol’ lobster pot.”

“Mhm.”

Squinting at his warped reflection, Roman said, “I think it should be me. It’s my time. I can do it, I want it, and I think I can pull it off.”

A long silence.

Roman scratched at the back of his head, a bout of nerves suddenly scratching within his chest. “Uhm, yeah, I think it should be me. But… if you don’t think I’m ready, which, uh, totally valid, I would completely understand, and I’m not saying I’d agree with that, but, you know—maybe it could be Y/N. She’s… she’s a good, fresh face for the company. She’s good at this shit. All the corporate managing shit. And if—if she doesn’t work, Gerri is a prime contender, too. A couple years under her, then maybe… maybe it could be me.” He cleared his throat and drummed his fingers along the faucet. “And, listen, I know you’ve been sweet on Shiv. I love her like a brother, seriously, but I just don’t think that it’s time for her, you know? For whatever reason it ain’t Romey time, then, uh… maybe it’s crony time.”

He winced.

“Mmhm,” was all Logan said.

“I hope I haven’t, uh, overstepped here.”

On the other end of the line, Logan smiled. “Nope. Thank you, son.”

“Okay. Alright. I’d love it, but, uh, you know, I’d understand if—I do want it, though. No hard feelings if, uh…” He was rambling. Logan never liked it when he did that. One time when he was thirteen, Logan gripped his cheeks so tightly that it ached and snarled out a warning that if he heard another uhm come out of him, he’d toss him to the fucking wolves. Good times. “Yeah. Love you, Dad. Bye.”

“Uh-uh,” Logan said, and hung up first. He locked eyes with Frank. “Roman’s out.”

When the plane landed, Shiv got a call from Logan.

“What?” asked Roman. “What’d he say?”

“He wants me to go get Lisa to be his lawyer,” she said. “He told me to tell you guys to wait airport adjacent, though. He might need someone to fly to Boston for investors.”

You frowned. “Fuck. I thought I’d be able to go home for a bit.”

Shiv arched a brow. “You’re more than welcome to. But, you know, Dad wouldn’t like that very much.”

That kept the rest of your complaints quiet.

Once the four of you disembarked the plane, Shiv took a car to head after Lisa, and the three of you were taken to a fancy hotel nearby.

Gerri got her own room right beside yours, and she told you to shoot her a message if anything of importance came up. You gave her a half-hearted smile and a nod. You were rooting for her, really.

Roman took a step in the direction of your room despite having his own across the hall, shooting Gerri a smirk and a salute before she could make her way in. “If you hear the bed rocking through the walls, that’s us having wild, passionate sex. Feel free to drop in if you want.”

Rolling her eyes, Gerri shut the door in Roman’s face.

The hotel was large and spacious, and you were quick to shed your outer layers, sinking onto the bed with a groan.

“I miss home,” you said when Roman kicked off his shoes and loosened his tie. “I’ve been held hostage in a different country and then stuck on a fucking yacht with the most dysfunctional family for way too long. I wanna go home.”

He laid down beside you. He couldn’t really understand how you were feeling. His house was mostly empty and lacked any true life. It didn’t actually feel like his home.

“Yeah, I’m fucking exhausted.” he said nonetheless. Then he tugged you closer and pressed his nose against the side of your head. “But I’m not too tired, if you catch my drift.”

“I’m not having sex with you in a random hotel with Gerri next door,” you deadpanned, though there was a slight laugh to your voice.

Roman snapped his fingers. “Would you prefer to have her here, watching? You little sicko.”

Finally, you laughed, and shoved him away. “I’m tired, Ro. I’m gonna go take a shower and knock out.”

“Hm. Can I join?”

“You tell me,” you said, knowing that Roman wasn’t ready for that just yet.

The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds. Roman shrugged. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

You kissed his cheek quickly, before pushing off of the bed.

A steamy shower later, you stepped out of the bathroom in the comfier clothes you made sure to pack. Roman sidled past you to wash himself up next, but not without pinching your side on the way. He shut the door and locked it before you could retaliate.

You waited until you heard the spray of the shower start up.

Only then did you grab your phone, dialing Logan’s number. You hoped he was still awake.

To your relief, he picked up after the third ring.

“Hi, Uncle Logan.”

“Hello, dear. You and Romulus are doing well in the hotel, I hope?”

You sat down on the edge of the bed. “Yeah! Yes, he’s just in the shower right now. So, I just wanted to clarify some things.”

“Go on.”

It felt as if there was a heavy weight on your chest. “I just… I know that you’re in the middle of picking a new CEO, and I know I probably look like a pretty good option to get the company out of hot water right now. But…” You exhaled softly. “I love you, Uncle Logan, but I don’t love this company. And I—I just don’t want to be the face of it.”

You drew your knees up to your abdomen and wrapped an arm around them.

“Mhm,” Logan said.

“I hope that doesn’t, uh, hinder your perception of me in any way, but… yeah. I don’t want it. I’m perfectly happy with the job I have now. And—if you ask me, I think Gerri is the best person for this role.”

“Hm. Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate your honesty.”

Well… that was certainly a better response than you anticipated. You half-expected him to get angry and cuss you out.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek. Did you do the right thing?

“Bye, Uncle Logan.”

“Sleep well.”

With that, the call ended.

Five minutes later, you got a text message from Gerri. Two words, and that was it.

It’s me, it said.

Another one pinged through a minute later.

Shiv blew it with Lisa.

Your brows raised. Roman was certainly going to have a field day once you told him.

You shot her a reply.

Congrats, Gerri. I’m glad it’s you.

The next day, Shiv was nowhere to be seen. She wasn’t answering her phone, and she’d turned off her location. Logan was beyond furious, yelling through the phone at both you and Roman to keep a watchful eye on Gerri and to try and find Shiv. Once the call ended, the two of you gave each other meaningful glances. There was only one place Shiv would go after she felt slighted.

She’d gone to confront Kendall. Maybe to scope out what he was doing for Logan. Or maybe just for herself. You didn’t quite know her motif just yet.

“So… we’re going to Kendall?” Roman asked you.

“That’s where she’d be,” you replied. “But let’s not… tell your dad yet.”

“Sounds good with me,” he snorted. “He’d have a fucking heart attack.”

Before the two of you got into the car, Roman mumbled something about not wanting to turn up empty-handed, and bought a box of a dozen fresh cinnamon rolls from the airport.

The drive there was quiet and tense. Roman began anxiously drumming his fingers on the car seat, then moved to doing it on your thigh and you didn’t bother stopping him. You pulled out your phone and shot Shiv a text, though you were nearly certain she wasn’t going to answer.

Everyone’s looking for you. I hope you know what you’re doing.

Once you got to Kendall’s base—which was just his ex-wife Rava’s house, because he had nowhere else to set up—Jess was the one to greet the two of you on the lower levels.

“Kendall’s a bit busy at the moment, but he’s told me to just send the two of you up.”

“Thanks, Jess,” you told her, not unkindly. Sometimes you felt bad for the woman. She was bright and intelligent and a hard-worker, and it was clear that she had so much potential. It was a shame she was glued to Kendall’s side.

An elevator ride later, the two of you stepped into Rava’s living room. And, to none of your surprise, Shiv was right there on one of the clean grey couches.

“Oh, wow. Lookie, lookie. Alright, okay,” deadpanned Roman. “How come you’re not answering your phone?”

Shiv lifted one of her shoulders nonchalantly. “I’ve had it off. No agenda.”

“Right. No agenda.”

“How is he?” she asked.

“Fine. Worried about you,” you said. You took a seat on the couch across from her and Roman took to wandering around, touching just about every single piece of decoration he came across.

The red-head narrowed her eyes at you. “So, uh, how are you feeling about Gerri as CEO?”

“Great. I think she was the best choice.”

“Uh-huh. And you didn’t want it for yourself?”

“No.” There was no hesitation to your answer.

“Right.” Shiv laughed as if she didn’t believe you. “Of course you didn’t.”

Roman’s lips twitched as he leaned against the backrest of the couch, leering over his sister. “What’s your fucking game? What are you even doing here?”

“Why? What are you guys doing here?” she shot back.

“Here looking for you,” said Rome.

“Sure.”

Rolling his eyes, Roman haughtily said, “As far as you know, that’s the fucking truth.”

Before anyone could say anything else, there were echoing footsteps down the hall, and Kendall appeared, a silly smile plastered across his face.

“Here he comes,” said Roman. “The attention whore.”

“Hey, Rome. Y/N.” He stood in front of his brother, glancing back and forth between you and him. “How are you guys doing?”

Tilting his head, Roman replied, “Great. Thanks for asking. It’s just been a really—great few days. You know, being a hostage held at gunpoint, and then my brother decided to fuck the family company over on a whim. It’s been great. How about you?”

“I’ve been good!” said Kendall, propping his hands up on his hips. “Certain amount of regret, but you know—pretty cleansed.”

It took all you had in you not to heave out a grand sigh. “Cleansed,” you mumbled. “You could’ve just gone on a spa retreat for that. Didn’t have to pull all this shit. I think a clay mask would do you good.”

Kendall shot you a mildly amused look. “I needed to do this. And yeah—I still meant every word of what I said to you.”

You frowned. He was clearly alluding to the phone call where he was offering you a spot with him. “Right. Oh, and, uh—Ro brought you those cinnamon rolls from the airport.”

“That’s so sweet. That’s kind. Thanks, Rome,” said Kendall, glancing at the blue little box on the table.

“Shut up. Just eat ‘em or don’t,” Roman said, standing behind the couch and patting your shoulders. You reached over and rubbed his hand.

Finally, Kendall rubbed his palms together and addressed all three of you. “Look, guys, can we start on a clean slate? You didn’t like how I handled things with Dad. Sure. Whatever, I’m sorry. But that’s for me and him. Here’s the thing… he’s over, so let’s work together to take the company over and help him move on out.”

Roman wrinkled his nose. “Uhm… well, I’m just here to spy on Shiv, so—”

“And I’m just here to get you to back down,” Shiv told her older brother.

The four of you fell silent when a group of Kendall’s busy worker-bees crowded into the living room, holding stacks of files and papers and binders.

Shiv blew out a sigh. “I’m sorry, I’m trying to tell you how much of an asshole you are, but can we do it somewhere we don’t have to fold in Rava’s dog-walker?”

“Yeah. Sorry, yeah. Follow me. Uh—we can go into her room. Sophie’s room.”

Roman helped you up off the couch and snorted, “I’m surprised he remembered his kid’s name. Uh, which one was she? Right! Sophie. Or was it Sophia?”

The two of you snickered under your breath, and filed into the room behind Kendall and Shiv.

“Don’t touch any of her shit,” said the oldest out of the four.

Of course, Roman reached out and brushed his hand along all the little toys and trinkets lining her desk and drawers. You were the last in the room, and you didn’t even get the chance to reach out and shut the door behind you before Kendall was rubbing his hands together.

“Okay. So… uh, it’s pretty simple, really. Let’s gang up on dad and take him down.”

“Well, fuck. At least wait until the door’s closed,” you said, just before kicking it shut. Patting Roman’s shoulder, you took a seat near the foot of Sophie’s bed while Shiv made her way to the very top.

Kendall grinned sheepishly, though you could see the apprehension in his eyes.

“Why didn’t you come to us before?” Shiv asked. “Because look—it’s a real fucking mess now.”

You thought back to the yacht. How Kendall was offered up as the sacrificial lamb, unexpectedly. Of course he’d have no time to confer with any of you.

The grin on his face seemed to taper away. “It came together in my head a bit late. And, you know—I mean, I knew what I was gonna do, but…”

Roman’s brows furrowed. “That was spontaneous?”

“Well, I spoke with a lawyer—”

“Oh, wow! He spoke with a lawyer?” Roman parroted in a mocking tone.

“But they advised against it. I don’t wanna rehash it all but—I was effectively acting alone.”

The words made Roman roll his eyes so far into the back of his head it was a wonder he couldn’t see his brain. “Right. A spontaneous, heartfelt out-pouring of thoroughly lawyered emotion.”

“You guys can think whatever you want, in the end, of me. My offer still stands.” His eyes were on Shiv, then on you.

You drummed your nails against Sophie’s soft blanket. “Kendall… you can’t just expect us to drop everything and trust you blindly. Do you understand how much we’d be risking? You have to give us something to work with here.”

Scoffing, Shiv said, “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m here to get him to back down.”

“On Dad’s behalf,” Roman added. Was it a question or a statement?

Kendall nodded twice. “Right. Uh-huh. So if I say that I won’t back down and I’m not interested in negotiating any deals, you’d just call him and tell him to take a hike?”

Before anybody could say anything else, there was a knock at the door, and Jess’ head popped through.

“He’s here,” said Jess.

“What? Who?” asked Roman.

“Con. Yeah, send him in,” Kendall said. The grin was back on his face.

Roman laughed under his breath. “Right. Thought I heard a clown car pulling up.”

“Ideally I’d like to make a media appearance. All of us,” Kendall told the three of you.

Immediately, he was met with noises of protest and sour faces.

“Sweet,” Roman droned. “Are we gonna be wearing costumes that you have designed, asshole?”

“Yeah. That’s not happening,” Shiv chimed.

More hesitantly, you added on, “That sounds like an awful idea, Kendall. No offense.”

The door opened again, and Connor came in with a wide smile. He greeted Kendall with a hug, then swung his gaze to the rest of you.

“Pop’s looking for you guys, you know,” he said. He sat down beside you and rubbed your shoulder comfortingly. “You okay? You look tired.”

“Could be better, Con. Could be better.” You spared him a half-hearted smile, then shrugged.

Shiv leaned back against the headboard. “We’re here on his behalf.”

Connor laughed, and sent his half-sister an amused glance. “Oh, sure, honey. Me too. All about Dad. That’s why we’re all here.”

Bored, Roman began wandering around the room, glancing and poking around in Sophie’s walk-in closet. He pulled out a frilly pink t-shirt and held it up to his chest. “You think this color suits me?”

“Put that back,” Kendall admonished dismissively, but didn’t bother to take it away from him. Instead, he continued right on with the topic of conversation, taking a seat on an ottoman. “Okay, can we just—can we turn off the devices and get into this? If this shit was just epiphenomenal, maybe it could be ridden out. But these incidents are symptomatic of a foundational sickness within our father and this company.”

Roman snorted. “Hmm, don’t he use that tongue prettier than a twenty-dollar whore?”

Chuckling, Shiv tilted her head. “So what’s your point?”

“My point is… the milk is going sour. You know, the great whites from politics to culture, they’re rolling off the stage. It’s our time.”

“You mean us?” Roman asked, giggling. “The multi-fucking-ethnic transgender alliance of twenty-something year-olds we got here?”

You shot the man an incredulous look. “Kendall, you’re a rich, middle-aged white man. I’m sorry if your image doesn’t exactly scream woke extravaganza.”

He waved the two of you away. “Okay, listen. Big picture, we’re at the end of the long American century. Our company is a declining empire inside of a declining empire. People are killing themselves with guns or dope so fast that we’re losing pace. We’re, uh, we’re fat-fingered fucks and we can only live on cream. US supremacy is waning—”

“Why is that a bad thing?” you cut in, nose wrinkling.

Kendall held his hand out, as if to gesture at you to keep quiet. “What I think is, within that context, we can become omni-national and reposition. Because actually, we’re not tied to anything culturally or physically. So, we’re actually in a great position to leapfrog tech. Information is going to be more precious than water. Combine all our news operations, and become the global news information hub.”

You winced. It was a bad idea. A terrible idea. It reminded you of the Pierce acquisition but just… a hundred times worse. And what the hell does omni-national even mean?

“Amazon is twenty years old, and Gates is an old geezer. Detoxify our brand, and we can go supersonic.”

Silence. Utter silence.

You and Roman stared at each other, as if trying to reassure each other how bullshit everything he was saying sounded.

“What do you say?” Kendall asked. “Are we interested?”

Roman hummed. “Mmh. There’s just something about betraying our father that doesn’t sit well with me.”

“He’s a central player in a rotten cabal that has basically eaten the heart out of American democracy—”

“Rotten Cabal is a good name for a band,” Roman chimed.

“Dad’s not on trial for that, though, Ken,” said Shiv.

Hotly, Kendall defended, “Maybe he should be.”

“If he didn’t do it, it would’ve been someone else making the same dollar off the same shit,” said Roman.

Leaning his weight onto his knees, Kendall turned to look back at his brother. “Yeah, maybe. Maybe we’re all irrelevant. Maybe there’s always going to be death camps and maybe the planet is going to fry, and there’s nothing we can do. Or maybe… maybe people make a difference. I don’t know. Do you think human beings matter, Rome?”

The conflict danced across Roman’s eyes clear as day. It disappeared quickly once he crossed his arms and said, “I’m just gonna say it now—I’m a spy and I’m gonna go back and tell him everything. I’m with Dad, so… fuck you.”

Kendall frowned. “Fine. Fine. I actually don’t give a fuck. I can perfectly well do this alone. I’m actually just trying to be open-hearted and invite you in here. I mean, it’d actually probably be simpler to go alone, but I want to offer you guys a fucking ticket to the escape pod.”

“Nice fucking guy, huh?” Rome chortled.

Finally, the ball dropped. “You’re happy he went over your head and put in Gerri?”

Roman’s expression fell. You knew he’d wanted the job. “I think Gerri is a good choice.” Shiv laughed, and Roman defensively spat out, “What?”

“Defend Dad all you want, but Gerri can look after herself.”

“Yeah, I know that, I’m not defending Gerri, I just—”

Shiv sat up straighter. “You can’t hide under the covers with Mommy.”

Roman shifted back a step. “Oh, fuck off, Siobhan.”

“No, no, let’s talk about it. You always need someone to hold your fucking hand. You use Gerri as protection, and then you run off to Y/N every time something just barely inconveniences you. You just love showing your pee-pee to everyone but someday, you know, you’re actually gonna have to fuck something.”

His nose twitched. “Fuck you. Bitch.” With that, he made his way to the door and stormed out of the room.

You and Connor both called after him, but he was already gone.

“Okay… that was… that was low, Shiv,” said Con, frowning.

“That was an overreaction!” she exclaimed.

Huffing, Connor shook his head. “Can we just try to keep things nice? Yeah?” He patted your shoulder again. “I’ll go check on him.”

“It’s not my fault he’s got a sex thing,” Shiv laughed. “Was I too harsh?”

“You kidding? He loves it. He’s probably out there jerking off, wearing my ex-wife’s panties.”

You buried your face in your hands, pulling exasperatedly. “You guys are fucking assholes. You’re fucking two-faced, Shiv, and Kendall, you’re just… you’re just using us. Fuck. “Media appearance”? Give me a fucking break.”

With that, you stood up from the bed and made your way out of the room. Worry scratched away at your chest for Roman. You stepped into the living room, expecting to see him lingering around there, but you heard Connor’s voice echoing down the hall. He was standing in front of the closed bathroom door, a hand on the gilded doorknob, the other rapping against the wood lightly.

“Rome?” he asked. “You okay?”

“Go away,” his muffled voice replied from the other side.

You stepped forward, right next to Connor. “Hey, Romeo?”

There was a pause. Then the door swung open.

“Hi,” you said, mustering up a tired grin.

“Hi,” he said. Roman tried his best to mirror your smile, but failed miserably.

“You okay, Rome?” Connor asked again.

He shrugged, scratching at the back of his head. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just needed to piss. Am I not allowed to do that?”

Finally, you ambled another step forward and enveloped Roman into a tight hug. “What Shiv said isn’t true, you know. I’m the one that ran to you this time.”

Roman mumbled something into your shoulder, but you didn’t quite catch it. Maybe it was an off-handed thanks. At least, that’s what you hoped he said.

Connor smiled at the two of you with a huff, clapping a hand on each of your shoulders. “Maybe it’s time to head back. I don’t think we’re done discussing things. Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

With that, you let go of Roman and nudged him back in the direction of Sophie’s bedroom.

As soon as he made his way back in, Shiv met his gaze with a half-beam, half-grimace etched across her features. “Sorry,” she said. She didn’t really sound all that sorry.

“For what? I went to the bathroom,” Roman dismissively replied. “I don’t give a shit. You whore.”

Shiv smiled, and he grinned back. Haughtily, he snatched up your hand and crowded you into sitting down on the loveseat with him. He swung a leg up to throw over your thighs and you traced aimless circles along his shin.

“Here’s how I see this,” Kendall started up, “Dad is complicated. But he did, or he let, bad stuff happen. Yeah? And now it’s a part of us and our sickness, and we have to take responsibility because we knew. This is our chance to pay our dues and wash our hands for absolution.

You narrowed your eyes. Knew?

Thinking along the same lines as you, Shiv snorted out a derisive sound. “Okay, well… I didn’t know.”

“Sure, whatever, but—yeah, you did,” Kendall said.

“No, obviously we didn’t know,” Shiv exclaimed. “Did you guys know?”

“No,” you were quick to say. “What kind of question is that?”

Roman leaned further back into the seat. “No, we didn’t know.”

Incredulous, Kendall rounded his gaze onto the two of you. “The fucking pipeline of sad dancers who got used and abused and promised some Hollywood bullshit? We all fucking knew.”

Brows cinching together, Roman acquiesced by saying, “Yeah, well, I kinda knew about… you know, that there was some—but I didn’t know about any of the actual fucking… the fucking shit that went down. I really didn’t.”

“Come on, guys,” Connor said. “We knew.”

“Maybe you guys did,” you protested. “But I didn’t fucking know. I was a kid! We were kids!”

“But we still fucking knew! Okay? And I—I don’t like all this fucking bullshit!” Kendall propped his hands on his hips, staring down at his siblings.

“What did we fucking know?” Roman asked.

“Yeah!”

Leaning closer to his sister, Connor said, “Listen, I’m obviously not saying that you guys are responsible. But, come on. The guys, Dad, Mo—the wolf pack.”

“We knew,” Kendall parroted. “All those jokes and the weird vibes to the women and to the grubby fat-asses who took the cruises. The blind eyes and the pay-offs and the hush-hush about Dad’s pals or foreign workers who got crushed like—like meat in a fucking grinder with zero training! And, you know, no, it wasn’t our fault. And if you want to pretend that your shit doesn’t stink, be my guest, but we fucking knew.”

Solemn, Connor nodded. “We knew what those guys in Dad’s study were laughing about.”

Hotly, you said, “How many times do I have to say it? I didn’t know that the dancers were being sexually harassed! That—that fucking workers were being grilled under terrible work conditions! And I sure as hell didn’t know anything about these million-dollar pay-offs you love to parade around without actually showing us.”

Shiv drew in a breath. “We didn’t know what they were laughing about.”

“Don’t get in the pool with Mo?” Connor asked. “Remember that?”

“Well, yeah, that just sounds like fucking common sense,” you replied. “It was all so… grey. There were so many rumors. I just—I didn’t know if what Mo did actually happened or just a part of a huge fucking joke.”

“Yeah. And I didn’t get in the pool with any of those creeps,” said Shiv.

Kendall nodded, “Yeah, because he let those creeps run cruises.”

“No, Kendall, because I was fifteen!” Shiv finally asserted. “Y/N said it before—we were kids! Y/N was barely fourteen! We were hardly ever around them, and when we were, they were talking about shit we didn’t understand, and we didn’t want to understand. Because we were teenagers, and they were creepy old men that constantly told us about how mature we were for our age. Obviously we didn’t know what they were talking about, because we didn’t even want to know.”

Waving his sister’s words away, Kendall stressed, “Well, you know now, right?”

“Of course I fucking know now, that’s why we’re here in the first place!” Shiv yelled.

A beat of silence.

Kendall’s shoulders squared. “This is all a sidebar. Okay? All I’m asking is for us to move forward from a position of truth.”

“Are we excluded from this kingdom of heaven unless we accept the one true truth?” Shiv asked.

His phone dinged with a text message, and Kendall reached down to pull it out of his pocket. His kids were here.

“Look, I just wanna go hug my kids. Okay? I’ll be right back.” He started back out, making his way to the door. “We don’t even need to get into this. This is just sideshit.”

Once he was gone, Roman’s hand rested against the side of your face, gently pulling your head down to rest against his shoulder.

“We were kids,” you mumbled tiredly. Blurry memories of leering, smoking men and jaunty laughter crossed your mind. “How could I have known?”

Roman hummed, but he said nothing more.

“So… where are we at?” Shiv asked. Her question seemed to be directed at anyone in particular, but her eyes were on you.

“I don’t know. I don’t trust him. He clearly doesn’t trust us,” you said, pursing your lips.

Roman nodded. “We’re just hearing him out—then we report. It’s simple, Siobhan.”

“Right. Yeah. We gotta protect Dad… because if we knifed him now, he’d just bleed out, so…”

Roman reared his head back. “Hm. I don’t know about that.”

“Well, it’s just true. It’s a statement of fact.”

“Is it, though?” Roman wrinkled his nose. “It’s not necessarily true. This is Dad. He’s like fucking—fucking Moby Dick. He could take us all down with his back riddled with harpoons.”

Scoffing, Shiv arched a brow. “Yeah? You think he can take on all of us? If we back Ken, he’s toast. I’m not saying we should do it—we just need to decide what the fuck we’re gonna do because this is our moment.”

Finally, Roman’s features softened. He gave you a nudge. “What do you think?”

You bit down on the inside of your cheek. “If all of us back Kendall, that’d spook Karl and Frank onto our side. Gerri, maybe. The board… they’ll be split at first, but I think most of them would be swayed with enough convincing. I don’t know. It’s hard to gauge.”

“It’s very hard to imagine him surviving if we allied,” Connor agreed.

“Yeah. Sure, it’s his board, but it’s a lot of fresh blood. A lot of fear. I think if we pulled a pin today, and tomorrow, we got a spooked board. We could win.”

Tilting your head, you asked her, “I’m confused, do you or do you not want to back Kendall?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“On you guys!”

Roman shook his head. “My only concern with stabbing Dad in the back—it might actually kill him.”

You thought back to how scared and worried the two of you were when Logan was in the hospital. Certainly not something you wanted to relive.

It was then that the door opened once again, and Kendall stepped in. “So—where are we?”

“Okay. Let’s say you win, and take Dad out. I don’t see us coming through in the proxy battle. Shareholders don’t like confusion—they’ll pull out the moment they realize the condom ripped. How does the family stay in control?” Shiv asked.

“We give Dad the revolver, show him to the office, proxy battle is over,” Kendall stated matter-of-factly. “Sandy and Stewy will back down. I’ve spoken with them.”

“Busy fucking bee,” Roman snorted.

Bobbing his head, Kendall said, “If Dad went fast enough, we’d have a settlement. Look, guys, I don’t know what I think about Dad. Uh… I love him, I hate him—I’ll outsource it to my therapist. But he was going to send me to jail, you know. He’d do the same to you, Rome. Con. Shiv, I don’t know. Maybe. Don’t you guys see that? Y/N—he’ll… he’ll fucking throw you to the sharks if he needed to. I mean, how many years have you been scurrying around doing all of the yardwork for him?”

You met Kendall’s intense gaze, but you remained silent.

It was Roman who spoke instead: “Well, what would the shape of this new fucking reality be, anyway? Us leapfrogging Amazon?”

“Oh, yeah. We’re looking at 323 BC, naturally. Alexander’s dead. I take Asia, Rome takes Egypt, Shiv takes Europe, Y/N has the Americas, North and South. Con—the rest of the world.”

Connor smiled. “Thanks.”

“Separate divisions. I could oversee us as CEO on paper as we shift to these spheres of influence and evaluate what the core is. We move forward—”

A migraine began to pulse in Roman’s temple and he rubbed his head gingerly. “You’re overseeing us?”

A second of silence. “I’d offer my leadership initially as a—as a necessary part of a transformation process, yes.”

“You’d do that for us?” Roman mocked in a baby-voice. “Oh, you’re so generous! Thanks, Ken!”

“No! In your position, it just doesn’t work,” Shiv protested.

“It’s a stretch,” winced Connor in agreement.

“Stretch?” Roman scoffed. “It’s a fucking scrotum over a timpani drum!”

Shiv straightened her posture. “If I were to back you against Dad, I would need to take over.”

Both you and Rome made noises of surprise.

“What? Woah!” Roman chuckled and you drew in a cold inhale through your teeth.

“Shiv, I’m sorry, there’s absolutely no way you’d be able to steer us out of this mess—” you began.

“What? And you could?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, thinking back to the phone call you had with Logan in the hotel. “But I’m not going to. I don’t want the fucking top job. I’m looking at this from a neutral perspective, okay? You wouldn’t work.”

Kendall nodded vehemently. “You don’t have the experience, Shiv. It wouldn’t be possible. I wish it was, but it isn’t.”

“Come on, you’re a busted flush! I’m the only person who can reform!”

“You’re too divisive,” Kendall said. Shiv’s lips parted in offense. “I mean, I don’t see you this way, but people see you as the token woman, wonk, woke, snowflake. I don’t think that, but the market does.”

“Jesus Christ,” you mumbled, pinching the space between your brows.

“What? That’s bullshit!” she bit out, volume raising a notch.

Snickering beneath his breath, Roman said, “It’s true, I just spoke to the market. That’s exactly what they think.”

“Guys, listen. We’d get new directors, and a clean broom. And then we can figure out how to split the spoils.”

Shiv pursed her lips. “I have some calls to make,” she finally said, getting up from the bed. “But this stays in here, yeah?”

“Absolutely,” Roman said.

“Yeah,” both you and Connor mumbled.

With that, she left the room.

Roman slipped away from you, saying something about taking his own call. You watched him go curiously, though you were already pretty certain he was going to call Gerri for her opinion, seeing as she was CEO now. With a nod to Kendall and Connor, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

You strode down the hall and shut the door behind you. The mirror above the sink’s reflection stared back at you, nearly unrecognizable. You looked so tired. Clothes wrinkled, hair disheveled, eyebags dark. All you wanted to do was go home and crawl into your own bed.

You sniffed, though you weren’t crying. You wanted to cry, though. A cry-session sounded really nice right about now. You blinked once, then twice. No tears, still.

Dejected, you went about your business, before rinsing your hands clean and stepping out to the rest of the siblings gathered in the living room now, all standing around a white box of donuts.

“Someone ordered dessert?” you asked with a mild laugh, quirking a brow at Roman.

“Wasn’t me,” he said, jerking his head to Connor, who had a card in his hand.

“Dad sent donuts. Perfectly innocent, safe-to-eat donuts,” the oldest of the group announced. He lifted up the card. “He wants us all to have a nice tea party.”

Shiv glanced around shiftily. “What the fuck? Ken—did you tell him?”

“Shiv, come on,” he replied. “Why would I tell him?”

“To make him distrust us and force us to back you?” you offered, peering over at the donuts. Connor reached over to take out a glazed chocolate one from the center.

“I wouldn’t eat that,” Shiv told his brother.

Incredulous, Connor said, “You really think he’d send poisoned donuts to the house of his grandchildren?”

“Yeah, I’m, like, ninety-eight percent sure those aren’t poisoned,” Roman chimed.

Kendall shook his head. “Okay, guys. These aren’t relevant—”

“Oh, no. No, no, no, these are really relevant donuts,” Roman protested.

Ignoring him, Kendall held up his phone. “Do we wanna? Guys—are we in? I’ll make the call right now. We can say it tonight. It’ll be over. New dawn.”

A terse silence settled over the rest of you.

“Con, stop staring at the fucking donuts, man. Focus!”

With that, the eldest sibling dropped the card on top of the donuts. “I’m out,” he said.

Kendall’s eye seemed to twitch. “Alright, then. You’re irrelevant, anyway.”

“Hey, fuck you.”

“Go on. Leave. You’re not wanted. You’re not wanted, Connor! Leave!”

“Don’t be fucking mean, Kendall,” you snapped.

Roman shook his head. “Yeah, as if he hasn’t heard that enough already.”

“I just don’t wanna destroy Dad. I’m a national figure. It’s not right to kill one’s father.”

“Yeah, you’re a prick!”

You shot Connor an apologetic glance, but he simply shook his head, gathered his jacket, and took his leave.

Kendall then rounded on his younger brother. “Roman. Come on, man. Let’s do this.”

“Uhm… pass.”

“Pass? Why?”

Roman pulled a sour face, as if he’d just licked a lemon. “A number of reasons, really.”

“Like what? You think I can’t win? Dude—we can win this together. We’ll fucking win! There’s enough for us all, Rome.”

“I told you. I’m with Dad. I always have been.”

Shaking his head, Kendall spat out, “You’re a fucking moron.”

“Don’t call him that!” You bristled. He sounded just like his father.

Kendall looked to his sister. “Forget them, Shiv.”

“I’m with Dad,” she said, plainly. Roman laughed, and Kendall’s expression fell.

“Why?” he asked.

She crossed her arms and shrugged. “Why? I don’t need to tell you.”

“Yes, you fucking do! Is it the goddamn donuts? Have you been spooked by fucking donuts? That’s pathetic, Shiv! Why? You owe me an explanation!”

Shiv tossed her head back and laughed at the irony. “Oh, yeah! Because you’ve always been so careful to keep me informed.”

“What is it? You don’t believe me?” he asked. “Obviously, you believe me! So you’re literally doing the wrong thing over the right thing here?”

Her eyes were intense on her brother. Exhaling lowly, Shiv said, “I can see that you’re angry, but don’t project your disappointment onto me. I should go.”

“Is it cowardice or avarice? I just wanna know,” Kendall called out. “Is it because you won’t take over? Is that it? Good luck with sleeping on that, Shiv.”

“Fuck you, plastic Jesus.”

“You’re a fucking twat.”

“I was the one you wanted. Rome and Connor don’t even matter to you,” she said.

“Yeah, because you’re the fucking token girl! Girls count double now, didn’t you know?”

“No, I know.” There was a crack in her voice. “I fucking know.”

“It’s only your teats that give you any value! You’re calling it wrong, Shiv. You’re fucking over the victims. I hope you know that! Well done, you dipshit!”

She shot you and Roman narrowed glances, before sauntering out of Rava’s apartment.

Finally, Kendall turned to you. His last hope. He stepped closer to you, until he was just in front of you. “Y/N, just listen. You—we could make this work. You’d be the fucking—the fucking glue. The brains. You’re good at this. You know people, you have connections. It could work. You don’t need them.”

“I don’t trust you,” you whispered.

And there it was. There were the tears. Stinging the corner of your eyes and just barely blurring your vision. Only this time, you didn’t want to cry. Not in front of Kendall.

Kendall took your hands loosely, and you couldn’t find it in you to pull away just yet. Roman watched on with part caution, part disgust.

“Remember—remember when we were kids and I told you that I would be leading the company one day? That you could be there with me? Remember that? And you made me swear to give you all the fucking strawberry popsicles you wanted. You could have it all, Y/N. It’s so fucking close.”

You remembered. Of course you did. “I don’t know, Kendall. I don’t remember.” Swallowing, you pulled your hands away from his. “You’ll just use me, Kendall. You’ll just use me and then toss me to the side.”

“That’s what Dad is doing to you right now. I’m not like him. I won’t do that.”

Your expression hardened and you wiped away the tears. “I can’t back you.”

For a moment, you wondered if Kendall was going to scream.

“Fine,” he said, eerily quiet. “You’re an asshole. Both of you.”

Roman took your hand and began to tug you to the elevator.

“You’re all pricks. Fucking idiots. You don’t know what the hell you’re doing!”

He kept calling you and his siblings a variety of colorful insults, but they all blurred into white noise when Roman hurried you into the elevator, his arm wound around your waist.

“Home?” you asked. You were so, very tired.

He nodded. “Home.”

“Will you stay over?”

He kissed your head, chaste and barely there. “Yeah. Sure.”

The company’s annual shareholding meeting started early in the morning. It’d been a few weeks since the eventful night at Rava’s place, and you’d been swamped with work ever since then. Shiv had been promoted to President of Domestic Operations—which was just a fancy title that meant little to nothing—and shortly after, the FBI had raided the company building.

Yeah. All sunshine and rainbows at Waystar right about now.

A vote would completely be slanted away from the Roys, and that only left them with the option of negotiation with Stewy and Sandi.

“We’re gonna lose the company,” said Shiv, hands propped on her hips. “We’re going to lose the fucking company today.”

The rest of you were sitting around on the couches, waiting for Logan to arrive. He was late, as he often was nowadays.

Roman tugged at the lapels of your dark blue pantsuit, wrangling your attention back to him. He offered you a wry smile. “Say, if I lose my job here, do you think I could find work behind a cash register at Target?”

“Haven’t you heard? All those jobs are being taken up by broke college students with at least two bachelor's degrees under their belt,” you dryly replied. He barked out something akin to a laugh. Since he was straightening out your suit for you, you reached out to fix his loosely-knotted tie. Once you were done, you patted his cheek fondly and pulled your hands away.

It was then that Logan came ambling through the entrance, clutching a dark cane in one hand and Kerry right behind him.

“There he is. The big beast,” Roman said. “Ready to kick ass with his ass-kicking boot.”

“You heard?” Shiv queried him, without bothering to even say hello. “You know where we’re at?”

Logan stared at his daughter for a good few seconds. “Uh-huh,” he finally said, stoutly. Then, he looked to senior management. “Karl? Gerri?”

The man shrugged. “Uh… I guess we have to delay the vote. Squeeze Sandy and Stewy’s airtime. Run the long versions of the speeches. ”

Gerri spoke up, “I emailed a list of assigned shareholders for last minute persuasion.”

“Good, good. Yes,” Logan said. He sounded winded.

Brows furrowing, Shiv incredulously asked, “That’s it? There’s nothing else we can do?” There was an anxious lilt to her voice.

“What about the Raisin?” Logan asked. The president.

Shiv, Tom, and Cyd scrambled to answer for him, and he barked out a few more orders, before taking a seat.

Gerri’s phone began to ring, and her eyes widened when she checked the caller ID. “It’s Stewy Hosseini,” she said. “Should I take it?”

Wordless, Logan nodded once.

The call was short, but brief. Gerri’s eyes were narrowed and calculating when she hung up.

“They want to meet up,” she announced. “They have thoughts.”

Head tilting, Roman asked, “Thoughts? What kind of thoughts?”

“Ideas for a deal space around a settlement,” Gerri told the group.

“Fucking A! That’s great!” exclaimed Roman, before he was cut off by his father.

“Why have they suddenly decided to settle?” he asked, voice low.

Shiv replied, “Well, because they know it’s the smartest move?”

“Or they’ve had bad news,” Logan said. “What do they know that we don’t?”

You bit down on the inside of your cheek. “Well—we’d find out when we speak to them.”

Logan shook his head. “No. I’m not doing a tap dance. Shiv, Karl, Gerri, Y/N, Romulus—go and report back.”

Lifting a hand, Frank offered, “I think that’s smart. Yeah. But, uhm, Gerri should be out front helming, so should I go?”

“We nail you to the cross, Frank, alright?” Logan dismissed. “Let Sandy do the soft shoe. He’s wriggling. Let’s screw them out.”

The hotel you were meeting them at was lavish and over-the-top—you expected nothing less from Sandy and Stewy.

Inside the elevator up, Roman queried, “Does Sandy really have syphilis? What if he has sores all over his body? What if his groin’s all eaten away and the top half of him just falls off?”

“That’s disgusting, Rome,” you said, wrinkling your nose.

He stuck his tongue out at you. “You’re disgusting, fuck-face,” he shot back, childishly.

Gerri hummed. “I think we started that syphilis rumor.”

Raising a brow, you exchanged a look with Roman, neither of you all that surprised. Gerri was a cutthroat, cold-stoned bitch (in Roman’s words), and she’s definitely done worse than starting up a few nasty rumors.

“Late stage symptom is dementia, I believe,” said Karl, tucking his phone away into his back pocket.

Roman laughed. “You been doing some late night, panicky googling, Karl?”

With that, the elevator doors slid open, and the group filed out down the hall. A hotel employee showed you into one of the larger suites, where Sandy, Sandi, and Stewy were situated amongst plush seats.

“Hey,” Sandi greeted with a cautious smile. “Thanks for coming. My father is very excited to see you all.”

You glanced at her father, who was slumped over on a wheelchair and silent. It seemed his condition had worsened much more than you expected. You took a seat beside Gerri, and Shiv stiffly eased down next to you. Roman lingered behind, far too restless to sit.

“Look,” said Stewy, pulling your attention away from the older man to him, “after careful consideration, if we can make a deal here, we’re willing to agree to a standstill. No takeover. Provided we lead on deal-making options moving forward, we’ll accede to a continuation of combined Chairman and CEO roles, so that’d be all yours.”

“I think that sounds reasonable,” said Gerri.

“And the three board seats?” Stewy asked. His eyes darted from the siblings, to you, to Gerri and Karl.

Nodding, Shiv said, “Including yours? We can do that right now—I have my dad’s authorization to go there.”

“Would you be willing to sign off on this?” you asked. Stewy’s gaze met yours, mildly amused. “We’d like something physical to hold onto.”

Sandi then leaned forward when her father began to mumble under his breath, too quiet for you to decipher from where you were sitting.

“He wants our costs covered,” Sandi finally said. That was reasonable. Then, she added, “And… veto right over any Roy family member ever taking over as CEO.”

Your brows furrowed. Gerri seemed just as taken aback by this condition as you were.

“Stewy?” she asked, hoping he’d give some sort of clarification.

“That’s what the man said,” Stewy replied languidly. “It’s a very important protection for us.”

Wincing, Roman scratched at the back of his head. “I feel like I just have to put it out there and say it, since there’s a eighty-five billion dollar baby on the table here… how do I know he’s not your… meat puppet?”

The term made you think of Kendall before he’d waged war on his own father.

Sandi smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I just do what my dad tells me, like you guys.”

“You mind if we take a beat?” Gerri asked, standing up. You stood with her, following her to the next room. Stewy said something snarky, but you consciously chose not to listen.

Karl ducked his head and whispered, “Well, I mean, other than the new proposal, it’s a very, very attractive prospect.”

Shiv frowned and incredulously bit out, “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing to discuss. It fucks us and it’s designed to humiliate dad!”

“It’s all just optics,” Gerri defended. “I’m not sure it’d even stand up.”

“You could probably work around it if it ever came to it!” Karl piped in.

“Uhm, with all due respect, Gerri—get bent,” said Roman.

Shaking her head, she reasoned, “I know it’s humiliating, and I’m sure your dad would agree, but given where we’re at, I have to check in with him. Sorry, excuse me.”

With that, she stepped away to call Logan.

“Is she gonna fuck us?” Shiv asked.

Roman pulled a face. “No. I don’t know.”

“Logan’s not going to say yes,” you murmured. “He wouldn’t allow it. It’s pride over everything, no?”

Shiv shot you a sharp look, but she didn’t say anything. From farther away, Gerri hung up the phone and made her way back to Stewy.

“We will meet your costs, but… no veto,” she told them. Of course—Logan wouldn’t refuse to be the first to bend the knee.

Sandy began murmuring again, and Sandi leaned in to listen.

“We need the veto,” she said once she backed away.

“Is there no alternative shape here?” Gerri queried, shaking her head.

Growing frustrated, Shiv said, “Come on, Sandi. We all want this to work.”

With one final lean-in, Sandi nodded her head at her father’s mumbled words.

“We’re gonna go have a think. But, uhm… it’d be a shame if all this hard work is destroyed over a small detail,” she finally concluded. “Thanks for coming to see us.”

You blew out a breath and scratched at the back of your head—a habit that you seemed to pick up from Roman.

The two of you began walking out, and Gerri caught up, just a step behind. “Sorry, about back there—”

“About what? Trying to fuck me over to consolidate your position?”

“No. It just seemed to make sense. Business-wise.”

Roman shot her a glance over his shoulder. “Throwing me overboard to drown? You picked your prince, Gerri, don’t fuck it up now.” He began to walk faster, and you gave her an apologetic shrug.

“We got this in the bag, Gerri. Don’t—don’t worry about Roman.”

She patted your shoulder with a reassured smile. “I can count on you to keep him in line, right?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

With one final nod, you jogged ahead to catch up with Roman, linking your arm with his.

“Hey, stompy,” you greeted, bumping your hip into his. “Stop pouting. Gerri was just trying to broker a deal. It’s not her fault they suddenly wanted a veto right.”

“I know. I’m just fucking—worried that I’m making the wrong choices all the time.”

“Yeah. But you’re doing okay. We’ll be fine. Everything’s going to blow over in a few months, just watch.”

The corner of Roman’s lips tilted into a lopsided smile, and hummed out that hyena-laugh of his. “You are so fucking fake. Y’know what the fucking Gen-Z’ers are calling it now? Toxic positivity. That’s what you are. A barrel of toxic, radioactive, neon-yellow smiley emojis. I love it. Never change.”

He kissed your cheek then, sounding out an obnoxious ‘mwah!’ before tugging you into the elevator.

By the time you rejoined Logan, Karolina, and Tom (hell, even Greg was there), Gerri’s phone began to ring again.

“It’s Sandi.”

“Which one?” Connor asked.

“The one that can talk,” Gerri deadpanned. She gave Logan a confirming glance, before answering it. Her expression rippled with incredulity and apprehension. “Uh… are you sure about that? Alright, but—seriously?”

With one final sigh, she hung up the call.

“They have one more proviso,” she told the group. “They want to take away the private jets.”

“What? No!” Roman protested.

“They said it’s elitist and out of touch.”

A frown crossed his face. “Duh-doy, but—no. They’re just trying to humiliate him.” He gestured to his father, who was slumped in a chair, eyes staring aimlessly at the ground.

“Was it real or were they just basting the turkey?” asked Karl.

“I don’t think Sandy’s the kind to be pulling a prank on us, Karl,” you said, pinching the space between your brows. “It’s gotta be real.”

Gesturing emphatically, Shiv said, “Let’s just eat it, Dad. You can tell them to fuck off later.”

“Yeah, we can just offer to cut personal use, or put on a mileage cap,” offered Karl.

“No!” Roman protested once more. “We give them this—first they come for the PJs and we say nothing, then they come for the outsized compensation payments, you know? This is—no. This is bullshit. They’ll back down, they won’t blow it over this. Right?”

He looked at you, and you lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. They’re fishing for something here, but we still have to take them seriously.”

“Dad?” Roman asked.

The older man was silent for a long time.

“Hm.” He paused, glancing around. His eyes were glazed over. “I need to piss.”

“Oh,” said Shiv, uncertain. “Do you… do you need some help, or should I reach out and call—?”

Logan ignored her, and pointed at Tom. “You.” He loosely gestured at the rest of you. “Stay.”

“You want to make a decision now, before you go? Dad?” Shiv called out after him, but he was already walking away.

“Is he—is he okay?” you whispered into Roman’s ear. “He doesn’t look too good.”

Roman pulled a sour face. “He’s fine. He looks fine. Why, you think something’s wrong with him?”

“Well, I don’t know, he’s just acting so weird. This is—this is a big fucking deal and he’s been shrugging it off like it’s chopped liver.” At Roman’s worried look, you gripped his arm and squeezed comfortingly. “I mean, I don’t know, though. Maybe he’s okay.”

Nearly fifteen minutes later, you were about to eat your own words.

Logan was most certainly not okay. When he came back, he was out of breath, and his eyes were unfocused.

“What’s it gonna be, Logan?” Gerri asked. “We need an answer.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What do you think? Yes or no?”

A staggered exhale and a wild look around. “Fuck ‘em,” he finally spat out.

Shock spilled over the group. Shiv made noises of protest.

“Fuck ‘em!” he repeated, gruffer this time.

“I—are you sure, Dad? That’s… you sure you wanna do this?” Shiv asked.

His breathing was getting heavier and heavier. It was clear to you that business was the last thing Logan should be thinking about right now. You stepped forward, concern splayed over your features.

“Uncle Logan, are you okay?” you asked, under your breath. He didn’t give you an answer, but you took his arm to slowly lead him to a seat. It didn’t go past your notice that he was sweltering hot and trembling quite a bit—you could feel the heat and the quaking through the fabric of his suit.

Despite the fact that he was in no state of mind to be negotiating, Gerri and Shiv pushed him. “Do you know something, or…? That’s a big call you’re making.”

“Pills!” Logan hissed to Colin, who came forward immediately.

“I just gave you some, sir. You need something else? Tylenol?”

Logan nodded, mumbling incoherently beneath his breath.

The rest of the group discussed what the next steps were, and a part of you wanted to join and offer your input, but you stayed by Logan’s side.

When Colin returned with the Tylenol, you furrowed your brows and told him, “He’s, uhm, he’s really hot. Like—feels like he’s burning up. Can we—do we need to go get him a medic, or…?”

“I’m fine,” he said, waving away your words. But then he smiled at you, and that was the most surprising thing of all. “Thank you, dear.”

“Okay. Just let me know if you need anything.”

“What’s going on with the Raisin?” he asked.

Gerri, overhearing, stepped closer with cinched brows. “I’m sorry, with—with the President?”

“Can we get Ravenhead on air?” Logan queried. “Call Michelle-Anne. Tell her to get the SEC to shut this meeting down.”

It was clear that Logan was spouting out utter nonsense, and you exchanged several confused looks with the rest of the group.

“Okay… we’ll look into that,” said Karl.

“I need a piss,” Logan announced once more. Hadn’t he gone just a few minutes ago? “Where is he?”

Tom pointed at himself. “Who, me? Again? Yeah? Sure—okay.”

Greg, who had just returned from sending off a note to Frank on stage, came bounding back to the group, sweat and hair slightly disheveled. “You guys going off to the bathroom?” he asked Logan and Tom.

Logan stared at his grand-nephew incredulously. “What fucking business is it of yours?”

You and Roman glanced at each other. “Jesus. You were right. He’s off his rocker,” Roman whispered.

A few minutes later, Logan staggered back with Tom helping him, and Shiv came forward to ask if he was alright. To everybody’s surprise, Logan called his daughter Marcia, and then started rambling on about a speech he was meant to give.

Tom came up to the rest of the group. “Hey, uh, hey everybody—Logan’s not really himself right now.”

Shiv rushed back after phoning Kerry. “He’s got a fucking UTI.”

“That explains it,” you said, glancing back at Logan, still murmuring something to a nodding Colin.

“Well, is that—I mean, no, it isn’t. It’s not that fucking serious, is it?” Roman asked. He was worried, you could see it clear as day.

“At his age? That can make you crazy!” said Connor. “Reagan had one and nearly nuked Belgium.”

“What?” Shiv asked, incredulous. “How long has he been like this? What the fuck?”

Brows furrowing, Gerri chimed in, “Was he like this when he risked the whole company?”

“Nobody hears about this,” Shiv warned, voice steely. “What do we do?”

“Get a doctor,” you said, as if it were obvious.

“Can’t we just get him some cranberry juice and ask him about the deal again?” Roman asked.

Tom shook his head. “He was just asking for Caroline.”

“Oh,” said Roman, mock-pouting. “Aw. He misses mom.”

“He’s gone mad,” Shiv blew out.

“Well, we don’t actually know when he got this way. We don’t!” Roman said.

“No, no, I think he’s been piss-mad for quite some time,” Tom interjected, glancing back at Logan. “Shiv, do you think—should you overrule him? Go back to Sandy and Stewy and say we’ve changed our minds?”

You sucked in a deep breath. “Logan’ll be furious.”

“How can he be furious when he can’t even tell me apart from his wife?” Shiv shot back.

Haughtily, you told her, “I’m saying when he’s gotten through it, he’ll be angry that you went over his back—!”

Before you could finish, Hugo came running up. “Guys—he insists that he still has to give his speech.” He hurried off when Logan called his name. Or, a garbled version of it.

“Can he give his speech?” Karolina asked.

“What? The demented fucking piss-mad King of England?” Roman responded with a scoff.

“He could say anything up there. No fucking way,” Shiv asserted. “I say we drop it. Right?”

“But at the very least, he should be onstage,” persisted Gerri.

Karl nodded along. “It would be great to get the body up there.”

“Right. Like a human fucking spectacle,” you said, cocking your head. “You don’t think people would find it weird that he’s up there and not saying anything?”

“Okay, we’ll just push it as late as we can, and maybe if we can just get him on stage, that’d be enough?” Shiv proposed.

Connor laughed. “Oh, yeah, maybe send him up through a trapdoor surrounded by dry ice.”

“Where is this doctor, anyway?” Gerri asked.

With no time for anyone to reply, Hugo hustled back to the group, expression twisted with uncertainty. “Uhm… he’s concerned there is a dead cat under his chair.”

Everybody blinked, clueless.

“Great,” said Shiv. “That’s great.”

“Well, is there anything under his chair?” Gerri whispered, ducking her head to check herself.

You stared at your godfather from afar, watching as he vehemently gestured down below his seat.

“He says that, uh, he doesn’t want Rose to see it,” said Hugo. “And he wants Colin to take it out.”

Rose. The name sounded familiar, something you’ve surely heard in passing, but you couldn’t quite place who she was.

Clearly, Roman was beginning to grow more and more agitated, and he gritted out, “Fine. Have Colin take it out. Jesus Christ.”

Finally, Kerry arrived, hurrying to grab her bag, mumbling something about doctors and pills and secrecy. As if to make it even worse, Kendall appeared out of nowhere, and Shiv let out a long and loud string of curses.

“Great—hey, who invited you?” Roman sneered at his older brother.

Kendall ignored him. “What the fuck is going on? He’s squashing the fucking deal?”

“It’s fine! It’s fucking fine—we got it under control,” Roman vehemently pressed, though it didn’t sound too convincing with Logan in the back yelling for the cat to be carried away. The cat that didn’t, in fact, exist.

“You have to turn this around right now!” Kendall yelled.

“We’re figuring it out,” Shiv told him.

Logan screeched again and grumbled incoherently, shifting on his chair.

“What—what the fuck is going on with him?” asked Kendall.

“The doctor’s coming, Ken,” you tried to reassure him, but he shook his head.

“No, no, I want to know what’s wrong with him!”

Colin hurried away with an empty box—supposedly holding the dead cat. A part of you wondered if this dead cat was a distant memory from Logan’s past. Maybe he was trapped in a fragment of time he could never quite move on from.

“What is that?” Kendall took a few steps to follow after Colin, but halted to look back at his siblings in utter confusion. “Guys, what—?”

“Can you just leave, please?” Roman hissed. “That is an imaginary cat, now can you please fuck off?”

Raising his voice, Kendall addressed the entire group, voice stricken and strained, “Listen to me very carefully. This is you throwing it away. You think they’re bluffing? They’re not fucking bluffing! And you’re putting everything I have fought and bled for on the fucking edge and I am not gonna let that happen! Do you understand me?”

“You’re not welcome here,” Shiv said, cold. “You have no right to be here.”

“Fucking fix it!” he yelled. Kendall sounded like his father.

“You may go! You’re excused!” Roman told him. “Thank you very much for your concern, please go.”

You and Connor stayed silent, watching the other three scream at each other.

“Go! You’re fucking delusional!” shouted Roman. “There’s a fucking delusional man leaving here!”

Kendall began to walk away, but not without screaming back, “Figure out a fucking doctor or I’m calling mine!”

“Thank you so much for your concern, like you give a flying shit!” Roman spat back. “You probably slipped him something, Putin! You piece of shit! Fuck off!”

It was a game of tug-of-war, and both sides were backing into a cliff’s edge.

Roman was taking out his frustrations and his fear onto his brother, and you stepped forward, placing a hand on his chest.

“Hey, Rome, that’s enough. He’s—he’s leaving, okay? Bye, Kendall.” You brushed a stray strand of his hair away from his forehead. “It’s fine. You need to… you need to take a beat.”

Roman pulled a pained expression, his features crumpling under the weight of stress. He nodded several times, before crossing his arms and walking off to get himself a swig of water.

When the doctor finally arrived, you pointed him towards Logan, quickly explaining what he’s been like for the past half an hour. He nodded and got to work, pulling out a few medical instruments to check up on Logan.

“So—how is he?” Shiv asked the doctor.

“I’ll put him on some fluids to hydrate him—it should be pretty quick.”

“Will he definitely be okay?” Roman asked

The doctor didn’t have the chance to reply when Shiv cut in, “But how quick, exactly?”

“Well… he’s not a cup of instant noodles.”

“Sure, but can we speed it up? Like a—a blood bag or an adrenaline shot?”

Roman scowled. “Geez, take it easy. You wanna give him a fucking Tabasco suppository?”

“Fuck you! It’s what he’d want,” Shiv defensively replied.

“Fuck you, too. The main thing is that we look after him, okay?” Roman slung an arm over your waist and you leaned into him with a sigh.

“Obviously, I agree.”

“Oh, do you, though? Sounded like you want to jumpstart our father like he’s a fucking pick-up truck!” Roman uneasily glanced at Logan, who’d fallen asleep on the chair. “Shit. Can you guys call us when he’s less… scary?”

With that, Roman dragged you away from the group. You could still feel Shiv’s angry eyes burning into your back.

“Where are we going?”

“Bathroom.”

“And do you want me to aim your penis for you?” you asked, laughing slightly. “Why are you making me come with you?”

Roman shot you a loose grin. “I could come up with twenty different sex jokes with what you just said. But I’m not going to, because I’m a gentleman.”

“He says, as he shoves me into the men’s bathroom,” you scoffed, before striding in and locking the door behind you. “I hope you’re not looking for a quickie here. I don’t think it’s very sanitary.”

Laughing nervously, Roman’s grip on your hand left so it could curl over your hip, tugging you close.

“You don’t want a little distraction? Just give me five minutes,” he mumbled. His head dipped forward to kiss the junction between your neck and your shoulder.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” you whispered, so low that Roman only barely heard it.

In truth, he didn’t know, either.

“Besides, I don’t think we’d have the time, anyway. The floor is fucking lava out there,” you murmured. “Also, I wouldn’t want our first time together to be in a bathroom at a shareholder’s meeting.”

Roman smiled, almost shy, almost disbelieving. “First time? Wow. Is this your way of telling me you want to have sex with me?”

“As if you wouldn’t throw yourself on your knees begging for it,” you bit back, wrinkling your nose affectionately. Then, you cupped his face and kissed the side of his nose, leaving a faint mark of lip tint against his skin. You smiled at that. “You’re cute, Romeo. But I know you. If you wanted to have sex, you’d be dry-humping me against the sink as soon as we stepped foot in here. What is it you actually want to talk about?”

Roman blew out a heavy sigh. His hands fell away from you as he hoisted himself up onto the sink and leaned against the pristine mirror. “I wanted to come clean to you. No secrets right? During the plane ride back to New York, I called Dad. I told him I wanted the top job, but I also told him that… that you and Gerri would be my second choices if he didn’t think I was ready. I just—I wanted to know if you maybe gave him a call, too?”

There was a moment of silence.

“I did.” You bit down on the inside of your cheek. “I told him that I didn’t want it.”

“Oh.”

“And I told him that Gerri would be my choice.”

Roman’s eyes met yours. They twitched with incredulity. “And you didn’t—you didn’t mention me anywhere in there?”

“I didn’t.”

“Wow. Great fucking friend you are.”

“Rome—”

“You chose the croney over me?”

Your features hardened. “Rome. Fuck, I just… I told him I didn’t want it because I didn’t want to be marked as the token figure that roped the company out of hot water. And I don’t want that for you, either. Don’t you get it? Not to mention it’d ruin your relationship with your siblings.”

“So you just—you don’t think it’d ever be me?” Something in his voice broke.

“It could be,” you admitted. “But I don’t want it to. Not now, at least.”

There was a longer silence. Roman pulled at his face tiredly.

You opened your mouth again, but he waved you away. “I know, I know, you didn’t offer me up because you love me and you’re trying to protect me. Thanks, fuck-face.”

He hopped off from the sink, cradling the back of your head so he could give you a chaste kiss on the forehead.

“You still up for that quickie?” you tried to joke, nudging him with a half-hearted smile.

“Sorry, I’m saving myself for Marcia. Nothing like fucking your father’s leftovers, I’d say.”

The two of you laughed and linked arms, unlocking the bathroom door to walk out and make your way back to the group.

It seemed that the two of you came back at the perfect time, because Shiv was worriedly telling everyone, “His moans are getting louder.”

“Okay, but can he do that on stage?” Hugo questioned.

“Is it a wheel-on and wave situation?”

“Fuck, no. We’re not gonna make the piss-mad bear dance with fucking cattle prods!” Roman angrily put out. “We need to be looking after him.”

Shiv propped her hands up on her hips. “So he’s not gonna do his speech? Is that it, though? Do we just—does that mean we go down? We’d fucking give up?” She hurriedly turned and asked one of the analysts what the stats on the vote were. “God, okay. I think we should just go back to Sandy and Stewy and try to save the deal.”

“No, no. You can’t. Dad said no deal,” Roman reminded her.

“Dad didn’t say shit, Rome!”

“He said no deal! Are you fucking deaf?”

“No, he didn’t! His urethra had wrestled control over his brain! I could at least talk to them, right? If we go to the vote, we’d probably… we’d lose. Karl? Frank? Tom?”

They all babbled incoherently—mostly in agreement.

“Y/N?”

You pursed your lips. “Yeah. I think you should try.”

“Rome? You back this?”

Roman pinched the space between his brows. Sucking in a deep breath, he said, “Go on, yeah. Go fuck it up, you moron.”

With that, Shiv rushed away, pulling out her phone to give them a call.

Before the shareholder meeting ended, the President called and the group had Roman answer, since Logan was currently… unavailable. He was extremely upset with Logan and said that he wouldn’t be running for another term, which was a major blowback for the company, since he was the stilt to Waystar’s political survival.

It was safe to say that things were going to shit.

Then Shiv called to say that she’d finessed four seats out of the board, which was a good fucking deal, so—maybe things weren’t all that shit.

Roman wasn’t happy with going against Logan’s wishes, but he frustratedly nodded. “We’re good. We’re all good. Hold the voting.”

Everyone cheered and sighed in relief.

When Logan came to, Gerri filled him in with all the details. He didn’t like what Shiv did, not at all, despite her defensive arguments that she’d saved the company. He yelled at her then, and everyone was quiet for a moment.

But Logan smiled at you, and patted Roman’s shoulder minutes later. He was fine, right? Things were fine.

Things were going to be okay.

#roman roy x reader #roman roy fanfiction #roman roy smut #roman roy fluff #roman roy series #roman roy ff #roman roy angst #roman roy x you #roman roy fanfic #succession roman #succession roman x reader #roman roy #succession fanfiction #succession x reader #roman roy imagine

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devildomwriter · 1 year

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Obey Me Nightbringer: All That We Know

Game Mechanics

• Cards and Grimm and devilpoints from original game will not transfer over

• This game will have a VIP membership separate from the original game

• The calls will focus much more on romance

• You are able to replay levels without affecting your relationships

• Both the brothers and side boys are dateable, the new characters are not YET

• While the story mainly takes place in the past, the new game features mostly involve our current time line

• Something for Thirteen, Raphael, and Mephistopheles is in the works for the future (Possibly songs)

• No prior knowledge of obey me is needed for Nightbringer

• Their will be more voiced line in this game but it’s not fully voiced

• Dating just one is more fleshed out but you can still date multiple

• Several apps within the game include Fab Snap which is like their social media; Ruri-Tunes a rhythm battle

• We will see a blue print of the house of lamentation

• We will have phone calls, room dates, SNS, face time

• We won’t have alternative outfits in the initial release but it is planned for later on

• We will see how other characters react to our relationship with a specific character

• They originally wanted to add all of this to the original app but the size would’ve made in near impossible for many people to play it so they put it into a separate app

Characters & Story

• There will be more in depth story for Simeon and Solomon but especially Solomon

• Chapter 81 picks up in Nightbringer

• The story takes place in the past, Solomon is under the same roof as everyone else

• There is more Barbatos Lore

• While he may not appear Michael will be mentioned much more often

• We will get more information on Mephistopheles’ brother and Thirteen’s sister

• We will see how Lucifer and Cerberus met

• We will see how leviathan and Henry 1.0 met

• We will be learning ALOT about the celestial war

• We will be making pacts with the brothers again

• The brothers will act more like how they did as angels since they’ve only just become demons

• Diavolo will talk more about his dad and why he is sleeping

• There will be more scenes involving the angels and the celestial realm

• We will learn why Satan loves cats

• Little D’s having similar appearances to the brothers might be touched on more in the future

• We will be seeing a lot more of their everyday lives thanks to the Fab Snap app which is akin to their social media

• We will see more about how the brothers really felt about falling (Asmo wanted to go back to being an angel, Leviathan was terrified, etc)

Extra

This is literally all I’m talking about the next few days. I literally took the 12-13 off of work for this game and saved up for the sales. So you will be getting all the details of if ;)

#obey me nightbringer #it’s tomorrow #get ready #I will not shut up about it

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1-49 · 7 months

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hit by luck

pairing: f!reader × chanyoung, sungchan ⁝ tags: rain. tokyo. & love at first sight / fluff. gets lil angsty. wc. 3.1k

note: this has been in my drafts ever since those two pictures dropped, & basically, this whole thing is just an extension of what sorta of mood they inspired. ik it’s kind of late but i love the atmosphere, so im posting it anyway.

All this waiting ─── Holding out for the storm to pass. Stuck in traffic and waiting. Waiting for the bus at a crowded bus stop.

Since the idiotic weather app on your phone was unable to foresee such a severe downpour, you are without an umbrella. You find yourself standing like a cat caught in the rain after spending a perfect sunny afternoon exploring Tokyo’s streets.

Neither the metro nor the two buses that have come & gone are going in your direction. More room and privacy for yourself as the majority of passengers board the buses and lessen the crowded, small, glassed station—for which you are grateful. After trying your luck twice, you are stuck waiting for the third bus.

The peculiar scent of rain on asphalt fills your nostrils as you accept your bad luck & attempt to take solace in the rain, the foggy lights of the passing traffic & the bright neon signs that give the city its unique flavor. There are a variety of sounds in the street, ranging from soft and loud to melodic and even disorienting.

You seem like such a loser out in the rain. The end effect of running so fast and not caring where you step is clumps of hair and muddy shoes, followed by ten minutes of waiting. You are glad you didn’t wear too much makeup for today’s walk because you’d have looked like a total wreck. Smugly, you try to adjust your mascara and eyeshadow in your little mirror and pretend it’s fine.

And so, you concentrate on the raindrops as they land in a specific dip in the pavement, creating tiny air bubbles that rise to the surface like bubbles in a champagne glass. This little world seems to be what fascinates you about Tokyo at the moment, despite its vast size.

That is when the two giants casually stroll into the safe haven you have found in all the fast life.

The two towering frames jostle one another in this terrifying performance that the sky is putting on, laughing at something so ridiculous that you have to wonder how they can do it. The evening sky is practically ripping at its seams, but they do not seem to notice.

Their laughter is contagious as they battle for space under a transparent umbrella that the taller one is holding. Their bodies are too broad for the protective gear, and they seem to lose simultaneously because most of their opposing shoulders and arms are soaked. For the tiny spaciousness they seek but don’t find, the pair comes across as endearing and humorous. You realize there is beauty in the fact that neither of them seems to mind. They remain upbeat and truly unaffected, which is inspiring.

That they are close friends is highly likely. They are even dressed alike. One is wearing green cargo pants and the other over-dye jeans, both with black upper apparel.

They could be mistaken for twins due to their dangerous synchronicity. Not like born together. Not fused like the two sides of an oyster encasing a precious pearl. However, exactly opposites, much like the two sides of a mirror. Equally stunning, and in their case, the pearl is their friendship.

The sounds of the city fade, and you feel every nook and cranny in your body thudding as you witness them make the spontaneous decision to wait for a bus.

The ‘polar twins’ resemblance they give off is unfair.

While the cargo boy’s carefree demeanor gives hours of silly photos and odd Tik Toks, funny videos, and Twitter drama, the headphones hanging around his neck pay close and serious attention to music, which you thoroughly appreciate. This particular aspect of him almost instantly makes you fall in love.

But the taller boy doesn’t fall behind either;

he closes the umbrella as soon as he enters the glassed area. His hand clasped around his brown cashmere cardigan radiates warmth and comfort, and his strikingly bare collarbones radiate needs and dreams. His contradictory aura clouds your judgment and prevents you from making further assumptions about his interests in basketball, games, and literature.

The tip of the umberlla accidentally bumps into your arm when he closes it, revealing his slight clumsiness.

His regret is evident in his eyebrows even before he says, “Sorry.” His eyes widen with it. Lovely and compassionate, with a hint of mocha. Like there is freshly brewed coffee swirling around inside his crystals.

Sparks shimmer up your arms as you watch and listen to his apology and say that it’s nothing.

The music boy’s position is to your left, as the ‘clumsy’ guy shifts to your right, which he does not realize until he apologizes.

With obvious happiness, the music boy inserts himself and begins to tease him. “He acts that way all the time, so don’t worry. If his good looks don’t work to get him noticed, he will try playing on his clumsiness.”

You can be sure that the ‘clumsy’ guy is pouting and sulking over the nonsense that was just said, even though your eyes are finally turning to the person who is seeking them.

There is an eternal smile on the face of the goofier of the two. One of those smiles that can break through the clouds and stop the rain. A ray of light, really. He breaks through the barriers of your heart with his quiet voice too. The fact that he can capture your heart with such ease and beauty is just a crime.

They may have looked the same in one frame, but now that they are essentially standing on either side of you, they are starting to show more of their charm. It gets harder to be between two extremely attractive giants as their individuality starts to emerge.

You have a sneaking suspicion that the boy you are looking at is the younger one.

And while the bright colors of the city match his mischievousness, his confidence has a short fuse. This becomes apparent when he stops coming up with new jokes for his friend and stays staring at you for longer than fifty seconds.

Before you know what the two of you are doing, his smile spreads across your face like sunlight does on tulips in the early spring. It’s an inadvertent eye lock until he realizes it’s too much. It really melts your heart to discover that he is a shyer one, and you end up melting right into the rain puddle that is at your feet.

You then take up your previous posture, facing forward. For a brief while, they distracted you from the fact that you were waiting for a bus to the hotel. As you take a big swallow, there is an odd quietness among the three of you.

You cannot help but wish that some of them would speak up and say something. Why you want this to go on is beyond you, but you want it to. Their bodies radiate a warmth that suffocates you while simultaneously providing warmth against the chilly autumn breeze. This brings you back to the point where you’re mentally cursing your app for tricking you because you were totally unprepared for today’s outing.

‘Soft eyes’, as in literally, hands you the sweather he was holding as soon as he notices that you’re shivering.

It pains you to try to turn down his offer, but you do.

Still, he refuses to accept it. “You can give it back as soon as one of our buses arrives. Keep it till then.” Ignoring your protests, he carefully places the soft wool in your hands. You have no choice but to comply with his insistence. “Besides, I don’t need it.”

You raise your gaze to him and once more meet his eyes—this time with a smile added.

You remember that when he bumped into you, he was trying to hide a smile so that he could apologize more sincerely, which means you haven’t been a witness to his smile just yet.

However, his smile has the same profound effect on you as the guy on the other side. You are sure the sun is in his heart too, just as much as it’s in his eyes. His kindness is his beauty. Very soft; almost as soft as a ball of cashmere, or similar to his cardigan’s overly long sleeves as you play with them.

Given their earlier recklessness, you would never have trusted two random boys to be this kind. So gracious as to lay you two of their favorite accessories in your possession.

One is keeping you warm, and the other, after being prodded to share the song he has been working on, is putting his headphones on you and letting his joy seep through your ears to your bones.

Feeling a little more shy, his breath hits your face, tense and warm as he’s inside. He is pulsing with understanding so as not to invade your personal space while practically failing. As if you couldn’t have done it yourself, he decides to put his headphones on you abruptly. A current is all that is moving him, and not a single conscious brain cell is applying any kind of brake.

The color hits his cheeks when your gaze meets halfway again. He’s being cheeky, though, when he asks, “Are you ready?” while towering over you.

He presses play on the song he composed after you nod with equal enthusiasm.

With the ‘soft guy’ on the right, you’re a little more confident, but when it comes to the ‘shy boy’ in front, you are a complete mess. The prospect that he’s equally as wreaked as you are is the primary cause of your emotions. They are deeply affecting you both, and even though you would prefer to hide in the next bush, you are pursuing each other naively and playfully.

Your smiles are getting bigger as you gaze at one another, but his is weaker, more fragile, as in ‘until the piece I composed gets your pass, I am afraid.’

You close your eyes because you don’t have enough in you to match that.

The outside world ceases to matter as the ambient composition intensifies and begins to resolve inside you.

You explode at the slightest touch from a ‘soft boy’ who leans in close and tries to listen through your headphones.

Since he also expressed dissatisfaction over never having heard the music, you try to be understanding and let him into your space too. He was unable to listen to it earlier due to the ‘it is not completed’ statements. This was his chance. And so, you acknowledge that this evening, everything came together to allow the two of you to feel the excitement of being the first to hear something so exquisite.

The storm itself, you can swear, ceased.

Though the sound of life is muffled by the composition in your eardrums, you can somewhat hear three heartbeats pounding in time with the music. It feels as though nothing matters and yet everything has led up to this.

‘Music boy’ watches your reactions as both of you remain silent, neither of you speaking to disturb the bliss.

This rescue is slow-moving and pleasant compared to Tokyo’s fast life. You find a brief moment of inner tranquility after so much running, fury at the weather, and anger towards the electronic device in your back pocket.

Entirely, you lose yourself in the song, and the way your lashes curl to soften the likely pictures that appear beneath your lids is proof of this. It seems that even in Tokyo, things can come to a stop.

Like a drop of rain in the countryside, your smile is sincere and pure. That is what he has composed, and that is what this is. He has awakened that within you.

Clarity and translucence—opposing to the densely scented city air, which is heavy with the smell of burned street meat and motor oil.

As distinct as the boys standing next to you, everything has a raw beauty.

When you turn to face the taller one, you find that your noses are almost in contact because of how close the headphones have brought his face to yours.

His most beautiful features are dripping with admiration as he gives you the thumbs up. Although you find the signal confusing, you nod because you think it is abrupt and cute.

Upon turning to face the musical prodigy as you currently perceive him—you having no prior knowledge of him—he grins more than ever.

With great anticipation, he asks, “And!?”

“I wish I had a better word to describe it, but it is rather majestic. The melody is lovely and seems to pour love and tranquility indefinitely. It made me feel better. Basically, thank you, is all I have to say.”

“It truly did the same for me,” remarks the tall guy, nodding. “You know, he never lets us listen to his music,” he adds, moving in closer to give the younger person a sweet shoulder shake. “This guy!!”

They both laugh it off, just like they did when they walked in beside you. They are unaware that, with those smiles, they have taken everything from you. However, as soon as you peek at the bus in the distance, read aloud your hotel’s street address, and confirm that it is your route, their smiles become lifeless and hollow almost instantly. In the same instant, the hope that they both brought about vanishes. There is a bittersweet sensation.

Even though you all know the end is near, it seems like no one anticipated it.

All of it comes crashing down: the rain, the hope, the magic, and all three of your desperate sets of eyes that cannot stop staring into each other’s faces. Each microsecond, millisecond, and second matters. Everything was brief at first, then prolonged, and finally just brief again.

“It’s time to return this,” you utter as you remove the cardigan.

Given how chilly the owner’s hands are once you skin-brush them, the wool should feel even warmer in his hands after you return it.

“You must have frozen because of me,” you point out, brows knitted in concern. “I am so sor—”

“No, I am fine, don’t apologize,” he cuts in, unlocking the umbrella as he comes to his senses and accepts the arrival of reality. To protect you from the rain until you board the bus, he says, “Here,” giving you room to move under the umbrella.

Initially, you pout, believing that rejecting him would be best, but eventually, you stop yourself and follow his instructions exactly. It’s time to savor every moment, even if it’s just spending a little time together under an umbrella, before you part ways with them and never see them again.

You remove your headphones and give them back to the cutest prodigy you have ever met. “You should start having more faith in the things you create. That was really beautiful.”

“Thank you!!” The umbrella boy exclaims in his name. “Someone at last to make him begin to realize.”

The younger boy defends himself, smiling, “Shut up.” And, even though he’s well aware that the umbrella was never meant to fit both of them, much less three people, he’s still attempting to squeeze himself under it.

You guys are all biting smiles; there is such innocence and purity to the compressed situation all of you are in. This feeling is far more intense than what you experienced as a teenager witnessing your crash in the hallways. Greater than the scorching feeling you experienced on your first kiss. Which, on the other hand, makes this even more heartbreaking than the first time your heart broke. There is something odd about it all, and it has been a long day at that.

You stay sandwiched between their bodies, which rise on both sides of you as sturdy as a brick wall. You regretfully realize that you cannot be imprisoned between them forever, even though for a brief moment you wish you could.

You can sense the peculiar chemistry has subdued the storm, and it even appears to be stopping the rain. And as it draws near the bus stop, the bus finally lets out its sharp, piercing ‘pissss’ sound. You’re thinking somewhere in the back of your mind about how this sound is going to become your least favorite sound. The noise that will always bother you the most because it’s ruining something so beautiful.

When you look into their faces, all you see is gold dust smeared in their eyes. “I’m glad our paths crossed,” you eventually admit.

They return with the same admiration, though with a sorrowful smile.

They wait until after you get on the bus. They wait for you to get comfortable, knowing that you will take their side and catch your farewell look out the window.

That is precisely what you do; you approach the first seat with that same thought in mind. Rain cascades down the glass, and the windows are a little foggy and difficult to see through due to the warmth inside.

Inside and around your heart, there is a heavy, funny feeling. You make an effort to clear the fog from the window but the moment feels so so hopeless as the bus starts to move. In actuality, all you’re doing is wiping the mist as you attempt to wave goodbye and get a good look at them for the last time. Still, it’s too late.

All that is left to do is gaze for a brief while at the vanishing landscape, registering absolutely nothing.

Finally, you tilt your head back and sigh at the biggest sigh ever. There is a distant echo of a Japanese woman’s voice coming from the bus radio. When you turn on your phone, the first thing you see is your camera folder.

It’s inexplicable why you thought it was necessary to take a picture of them with your phone while simultaneously taking one with theirs. You are left puzzled, staring at the most recent two pictures in your folder.

‘Love is a captured moment,’ you used to say. You get the impression that life is making fun of you.

It becomes really annoying to swipe between the two photos. Their boyfriend vibe is unmatched. Imagination takes over. It seems as though you have never desired anything more.

You carefully touch the screen to enlarge the images, capturing their faces with your fingertips. The attractive strangers in the photos are names you will never know.

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stitchthelilo · 1 year

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LOOK AT THEM THEYRE SO CUTE

#the battle cats #the battle cats app #the battle cats game #battle cats #battle cats app #battle cats game #app #game #videogame

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quiverpaw · 1 year

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things i’d like to see more frequently in the wcue roleplay scene: (long post)

-sharing tongues (cats gossip in wcue like no other. but they don’t actually share tongues! this includes sharing tongues with a cat before they are buried.)

-vigils apon becoming a warrior (this is NEVER done. it’d bring a new air to the roleplay, i think!)

-elders burying cats. (usually the leader, medicine cat, or a random warrior will do in rp.)

-elders and queens in general. this includes den dads and early retired cats!

-apprentices travelling to the moonstone with the leader. (this used to happen in the early arcs. since most wcue players are only knowledgable on these arcs, this would be a great thing to pick up on doing)

-proper battle training, battles in general. (most apprentices either never recieve a mentor or only go on the occasional hunting or border patrol. battle sparring never actually includes learning new techniques most of the time!) (battles straight up do not happen. skirmishes do. Usually with rogues!)

-a more even spread of cats. Usually most of the server will flock to one clan (80%), 15% will become rogues or loners, and 5% are either non-cats or kittypets.) with the addition of more clans comes more interesting conflicts! (taking territory, battles, gatherings, tresspassers, forbidden love.) ideally in a 60 people server, there’d be 12-15 cats in each clan, or in a two-clan server, 20-30, with the rest going to outsiders/non-cats.)

-more time for deputies and leaders. A deputy in wcue is far more important than the leader in almost every way, which is NOT a good thing. a deputy should be able to appoint patrols, be able to join said patrols, and still have time to talk before they have to sleep. the leader usually has to officiate ceremonies and talk about allowing in outsiders, as well as recieve reports. leaders should be able to join patrols as well.

-apprentice’s assessments. this is, in my opinion, the least utilized aspect for app players. when a cat reaches close to warrior’s age (in wcue, this is 12 moons), the leader (or deputy) talks with the app’s mentor and haves said apprentice go on a solo hunting mission. if they bring back enouh prey, they’re granted their warrior name. usually the deputy or leader also conducts regular normal assessments to check the progress of the young cats.

-more diverse personality types. in wcue, there generally are only six personality types: charming, ‘evil’, quiet, aggressive/rude, kind, and nervous. most cats don’t go into depth beyond these core traits, and i think it would be really nice to see a more diverse cast of personalities. there’s plenty of generators online for personality types if needed!

-medicine cat apprentice appointments. just straight up- this does not happen. they have their own special moonstone ceremony! why wouldn’t you utilize that? and on second note:

-medicine cat gatherings. also straight up do not happen.

general parts of fandom changes i want to see

-the stop of use of names like ‘blindkit’ or ‘lostsight’. this is pretty obvious.

-not using overly complicated words to seem experienced! this is a big one. part of the exp/luna debate, many players like to have over-complicated names, use words people straight up don’t know, anything of the like to seem sophisticated. warriors itself does not use words like orbits or cranium. stop

-stop the hate around younger players. generally, in wcue, there’s a INSANE, and i mean INSANE hate for younger players. given a cruel nickname like ‘luna’ because it’s a common name for young kids to use, people make fun of little kids who are just learning about roleplaying. how is a kid supposed to become experienced if you’re just being cruel. instead, the least you can do is void them, or at least teach them a thing or two.

-less apprentice groups. (this is a bit nitpicky) these usually only exist because people find teenage drama interesting, but apprentice groups are pure terrors to the rp scene. they usually don’t take a mentor, refrain from training- only hunting occasionally, and are very unaware of the ongoings of the rest of the clan because of their personal interdrama. these groups will flock in around 7-10 apprentices, which insanely disrupts a clan’s balance. a apprentice friend group should be a natural thing- one that occurs from training or patrolling together, not sitting and camp and crushing on each other.

(also nitpicky) -less magic schools. i know you’re trying to roleplay harry potter. stop. don’t do that

-roblox groups dedicated to organized rps! many people don’t have discord- it’d be more accessible to younger people as well.

#wcue #warrior cats ultimate edition #hi guys. does nayone want to make a shadowclan rp with me

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crowsandturtlesandbatsohmy · 13 days

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Anybody want some Haikyu!! party headcannons?

‘Course you do, here have these *shoves my Headcannons out of my notes app*

For context clues, anytime I say “idiots three” I’m referring to Tanaka, Noya, and Hinata.

NO ALOCHOL. THEY’RE UNDERAGE. It’s just punch.

• Daichi is just vibing honestly. He dances, he chats with people, he enjoys his punch, he keeps an eye on the idiots three but mostly leaves them alone. He and Suga sometimes have dance battles. He also keeps an eye on Asahi and makes sure he’s okay, and sometimes tag teams with Suga to try and get Asahi out of the corner to come dance. • Speaking of dance battles, sometimes they’re serious, sometimes it’s a competition to see who can goof off worse. They’re a staple of any parties for the Karasuno team, and they all take their responsibilities as judges very seriously. Tanaka and Noya stopped speaking for a day because they disagreed on who won until Coach Ukai yelled at them to get it together.

• Suga is always dancing. Always. He might be talking to someone, but he’s still swaying to the music and bopping his head. And he’s really good at dancing! He divides his time between vibing with the idiots three, hanging out with Daichi, and trying to coax Asahi into joining the fun. • Addition: The first time someone new (first years, other teams they’re hanging out with, etc.) get to see Suga dance they’re usually surprised, and he just gives them the most smug chesire cat smile ever and continues on his merry little way, happily lost in the next song as soon as he turns around.

• Asahi stands in the corner with a drink and talks to people. He hangs with Tsukki a lot, so it’s usually a lot of talking at Tsukki tbh, but sometimes other team memebers will come chat with him. He always tries to hide when Suga and Daichi get that look on their faces and start coming his way, because he does not want to dance. They might get him for one, and then he goes right back to hanging with Tsukki, who thinks it’s funny.

• Noya is alternating between actually dancing, goofing off with Tanaka, and jumping around with Hinata while screaming lyrics at the top of his lungs. • Noya strikes me as someone who would have learned bits and pieces of hip-hop and breakdancing but only pulls his knowledge out at a legit party, so then people forget until the next party.

• Tanaka bothered Kiyoko for a bit and then gave in and went to hang out with Noya and Hinata. He also can dance, but only knows a few moves, so he spends more time goofing off or keeping an eye on Kiyoko. • Really wants a slow (re: breather) song to come on so he can go get Kiyoko to dance with him.

• Ennoshita is also keeping an eye on the idiots three because he’s prepared to step in if he thinks he needs to. He’s for the most part pretty relaxed and just kinda hanging out in the “tall, dark, and introverted” corner with Kageyama and Kiyoko. He’s also keeping tabs on Kinoshita and Narita as they record the party.

• Kinoshita and Narita are just chilling and running around with a phone so they can record their friends. They take breaks in between to kinda bop around for a song or two, and then they go back to recording. They especially like to record the idiots three, who have the tendency to do ridiculous things like attempt the lift from Dirty Dancing. • Narita likes dancing and is happy to just vibe, but recording the party is also fun and it seems more Kinoshita’s speed, so he’s going along with it. • Kinoshita would rather record the party and make fun of Tanaka and Noya than dance, but he can dance, and will as long as Narita dances too so he doesn’t “look stupid alone”

• Kageyama is watching the idiots three and wishing he actually knew how to dance so he could join them because they look like they’re having fun. Instead he settles for being on guard duty with Kiyoko and Ennoshita because he’s too awkward to ask someone to teach him and everybody else just kinda assumes he isn’t interested. • Suga does eventually start teaching him after Kiyoko says something to him, and he apologizes for not stepping in earlier saying if he knew Kageyama wanted to learn he’d have been thrilled to teach him. Kageyama is just happing he’s getting to learn now tbh.

• Hinata is jumping around shouting lyrics, admiring the others’ dancing, or he’s watching Tanaka and Noya do the Dirty Dancing lift. • He can’t dance. Noya’s working on it.

• When Tsukki isn’t acting as DJ, he stands in the corner with a cup of punch and judges everyone. He does not dance other than the occasional subtle head bop. He tends to keep an eye on Yams just to make sure he’s doing alright, and he lets Asahi talk at him, but that’s about it. He snickered every time Daichi and Suga come to drag Asahi out of the corner, until he narrowly dodged Noya’s attempt to do the same to him. Now he’s slightly more sympathetic and only snickers on the inside.

• Yamaguchi is vibing with a drink and talking with Yachi. They kinda dance together (but not together together) off to the side where they won’t be noticed. He’s actually enjoying himself!

• Kiyoko is hanging out with Kageyama and Ennoshita, just standing off to the side by the drink table together. She doesn’t feel comfortable with the idea of dancing in front of the others, so she’s just people watching. It’s nice that Ennoshita and Kageyama aren’t talking, so she doesn’t either. • Kiyoko suspects Kageyama wants to learn to dance and eventually pulls Suga aside and says something to him. • Also she actively avoids Tanaka when slower songs come on by mysteriously disappearing to go refill the punch bowl.

And last but not least!

• Yachi is vibing with Yamaguchi and dancing a little. She’s shy, but so is he, so they’re off to the side somewhere people won’t really notice them. She’s also keeping tabs on both the idiots three and Kiyoko.

Bonus thought: When Tanaka and Noya do the Dirty Dancing lift (they pull it off flawlessly by the way) Daichi is torn between scolding them and running over to try the same thing with Hinata. Suga eggs him on and he gives in and sprints over, much to the chagrin of Ennoshita, who was going to yell at Tanaka and Noya until he saw the look on Daichi’s face. (Daichi and Hinata also pull it off, albeit a little sketchily, after multiple tries and zero help from Noya and Tanaka.)

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gatitties · 1 year

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hello! can i ask for one punch man headcannons with mitsuri-like (demon slayer) s/o? they could be a hero with love based powers, like for example when they fight their powers make their opponents fall in love with them. of course they also have mitsuri's personality; very cheerful and full of love and admires basically everyone! (plus, the only reason they became a hero was to find a lover, just like mitsuri lol)

i'd like to request this with saitama, genos and garou please! thank youu :3

- 🫧 anon

─Saitama, Genos & Garou x mitsuri!reader

─Summary: some headcanons of you being you trying to find your loved one

—Warnings: none

ohhh more content for opm, ty 🫧 anon!

—You met him during the entrance exams, you were only there because you thought it would be easier to find a fiancé.

—Though you ended up taking the tests and becoming an S-class hero unintentionally.

—At first you're like Genos, although you weren't looking for someone to train you because you were already someone with good resistance and fighting qualities, you liked to admire Saitama.

—The interactions were rather dry on his part, he still doesn't know why you flatter him so much if you ever meet in battle.

—Because you were so insistent, he let you go to his house from time to time for tea or coffee.

—Though whenever you start spilling information about your quest for romance, he ignores you.

—Let's face it, Saitama isn't interested in love right now, so if you ever confess, it's going to end up being a refusal on his part.

—But if he sees you too discouraged by his harshness (because this man doesn't know how to say things tactfully), he will cheer you up by saying that he will help you find husband material.

—Poor bald man, he's going to lose his eyelashes trying to help you, but at least he made you happy knowing you'd have help.

—Extra points because he will make comments about your physical appearance affect you less.

—You met in a meeting with all the S class, Genos being the new one greeted you without knowing that inside your mind you were fantasizing about marrying him.

—Just look at him! He's a cyborg, what more could you ask for? He sounded perfect and his steadfast and peaceful demeanor only made you fangirl more.

—He definitely doesn't understand your occasional blushes when you look at other heroes, he will ask you on more than one occasion if you're sick or something.

—He admires your strength and sometimes he asks you to train with him, you don't need more, as long as you can spend time with a possible future fiancé you will be there.

—Unfortunately, Genos isn't focused on love, his only goal is revenge.

—Although that will not prevent you from continuing to admire him, filling him with praise in your mind.

—He is much softer than Saitama with words, but his problem is that he can express himself badly.

—It's okay, he'll also promise to help you find the right person, he'll register you on all the existing dating apps before you know it.

—Don't worry about what other people think about your appearance either, Genos will be throwing his worst look at them and he will tell you that external appearance is not a determining factor when it comes to maintaining a love relationship.

—He was looking for S-class heroes and he ran into you, with the bad luck that he had fought and been badly off before.

—You defeated him and he became unconscious, despite being a villain, you felt bad so you decided to take him to the hospital at the very least.

—Garou is an attractive guy and despite being on the opposite side, you were not going to underestimate his beauty and fighting style.

—He will look for you after that because he feels that he has been humiliated by someone not as recognized as some other heroes.

—You won't take his evil character seriously because you saw him interact with a child in a completely peaceful way the day before.

—You will play cat and mouse constantly, you started fantasizing about a 'forbidden romance' because of that.

—Garou will soon notice how you actually like seeing him, confused as fuck because you look happy that he's spending another night trying to hunt you down.

—You feel admiration to see how determined he is with his goals despite not being your same ideals, seeing someone so passionate makes your heart race.

—Unfortunately you know that Garou isn't that interested in you, let alone romantically for now, but that doesn't stop you from fantasizing about him.

#opm #one punch man #one punch man x reader #request #reader insert #reader is not specified so...#male reader #gn reader #fem reader #x reader #sfw #headcanons #one punch man headcanons

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ellesthots · 3 months

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Fateful Beginnings

XVI. “sweetener”

parts: previous / next

plot: after months of rejections, a certain offer crops up with such sweetener you can’t possibly resist… though you wish it was under better circumstance.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, talk of death, grief, cancer, angst, unintentional weight loss

words: 3.9k

The next two months were a blur. Your days melted together, only distinguishable by doctor's visits and which job rejected you that day. The economy was in shambles; going on Indeed you were seeing hundreds of applications to a single Dunkin' barista job. You tried your best to forget about Bruce Wayne, and kept replaying the conversation over and over in the week following. His promise not to hurt you, the vague sense of safety and danger you got when you were around him... but it was soothing knowing that he was all the way on the other side of the US. This relief went away when it was deep into the night and you remembered he had all the money, all the tech, all the opportunity to hunt you down if he wanted to, but you did your best to trust the humanity he fronted with. You kicked yourself for forgetting to bring up the loan thing, adrenaline having been coursing through your veins blocking out any real coherent thought outside of the direct moment. It couldn't have been him, it could've been another donor. Maybe it was even Alfred checking my texts when I’d gone to the bathroom or some shit.

The days still blurred together however, and secretly you relished not knowing what day it was; not knowing meant you didn't know how close the draw was. Your mother's clinical trial started beginning of August, and would be a biweekly shot... if she was accepted. At each and every appointment leading up to that fateful day the staff engaged in tempering assurances, albeit assuring hardly anyone would make it into that trial. For a split second whenever a doctor or nurse mentioned it at the end of her appointments you felt a white-hot rod in your throat that froze you in your tracks. The doctors said this was her only hope. And only if she avoids placebo.

Walter was growing increasingly anxious as well. Walter refused to leave her side to the point you had called the office to see if they would ever make an exception to bring a cat inside. No. Allergies. Your dad had taken to staying home with him, otherwise he would go on a food strike. It would take hours of petting and cooing to him to make him comfortable enough to eat again if your mom ever got out of his sight. It was better with your dad there, though. Instead of three hours of cuddling, it might take two for him to eat again. You tried not to think about what would ever happen if your mom's battle ended... poorly.

Your dad started going back to work, only part time. You made sure to spend all the time possible out in the living room with your mother and Walter while she knit and pulled pieces of yarn from Walter's teeth, and watched some sort of romcom. When your dad came back you would all start cooking dinner, then eat, engage in some sort of discussion (your dad had taken to downloading an 'icebreaker' app and would pull one question each day from it) and then you'd spend the rest of the night submitting job apps. It was monotonous, a bit draining, but also sweet. It was such a far cry from Gotham that at just over a month gone from the city, you'd started to wonder if you'd dreamt it and you'd actually been here with them all along... until the day before the clinical trial announcement when you'd woken up to a particular email.

Dear Miss Y/L/N,

It is at the referral of Gotham City University President Dr. Janay Vry that we extend to you an offer of employment in the position of JOURNALISM DEPARTMENT ASSISTANT for the academic year of 2024-25. This is a part-time position requiring 20 hours of on-site time per week including outreach of no more than 5 hours per week. Duties include management of a public column in the Gotham Gazette and various office responsibilities as-needed. Compensation includes a housing stipend of fifteen-hundred dollars per month and an hourly rate of forty-three dollars and forty-five cents.

Please respond before Friday, August 2nd at 5pm. There is a mandatory meeting on Monday, August 5th at 12 noon in Challey Hall, Room 245. Flight and one-week hotel stay will be provided upon acceptance.

We look forward to hearing from you.

Gotham City University Faculty Administrator

You stared at the screen as if you'd seen a ghost. For weeks you hadn't had to worry about Gotham; the crime, the sleazes, Bruce Wayne. I'm balls deep in rejections and now Gotham sweetens the deal. You kicked the sheets off of you then paused, horrified, before remembering Walter didn't sleep in your bed anymore.

Breakfast was as usual. Your dad made omelets and the three of you made small talk about the happenings of the day ahead. Today your mother was getting a visit from Debra, her old friend from the Y back when she volunteered there on weekends. Your dad was working the same shift—10am to 3pm—and would put steak on the grill when he got back. "Looks like it might hit a hundred if we get lucky."

"Y/N," She asked after taking a sip of coffee. "Can you make sure Walter's water is filled? I think I might go to Debra's to get out of the house." You looked under the table to see Walter slurping up the last puddles of his water and rose to fill it. You grabbed a few ice cubes so it could stay cold just the way he liked it; a sobering thought of leaving this for Gotham threatened to sever your spine. After pouring a few cups into his bowl and giving him a proper pet, your dad followed up on your job search. "Any luck on those applications?"

More than anything you didn't want to tell them about Gotham. But as your parents had talked, the more you began to mull over the money in your mind. Free housing. 1500 would be enough for a good studio. 800 a week. A plane ticket's 200 round trip. I could visit, easy. I would visit. It would only be temporary, I wouldn't probably last the whole year before I got offered a position at home. What if Mom doesn't get into the trial? What if she does and she gets placebo? How long does she have? Will it be painful? Do I need to think about a job right now? It would look fucking great on a resumé, which would increase odds of getting ahead of the job seekers in WA quite significantly...

"Hun? Any offers?" Your dad turned to look at you and you blurted out the contents of the email. A second of silent surprise then an uproar of celebration. "Thank heavens, that sounds wonderful! Did you already accept?"

You looked back at them with shock, your mouth hanging slightly open. What? Walter finished his food and brushed against your legs as he wandered to your mom, looking pitifully up at her slices of bacon. "Well, no. It's Gotham. I thought it was too dangerous." You guys nearly prohibited me from even going to Gotham in the first place...

"That was before we visited!" Your mom was ecstatic; she rose to come and give you a big hug, and your dad tried to swat Walter away from jumping on the chair to sneak a bite. You wanted to think it was cute, but your mind raced. How could they be so supportive? Unquestionably? "It's Gotham, Mom," You took her hug not in celebration, but in an effort to commit the feeling to memory.

"How much is the pay?" Your dad pulled in the chair so he couldn't jump and walked over to the sink to put his plate away. You shut your eyes and hid a sigh. Once they know how good the pay is they won't let me stay. "Good, I guess."

"What, 15, 16 an hour?" Your parents eyed you expectantly and you shrugged. "A little more. Than that." You followed the linoleum's vertical lines to where it met the carpet. "And a housing stipend." You cringed. They weren't going to let this opportunity go.

"Wowza, honeybee!" Your dad called you that when he was particularly pleased, which only served to coil your stomach lining. Gotham? Gotham. This was over Gotham. The place we got into screaming matches over me going to only a handful of years ago. "I don't know,"

"Why not? It sounds perfect." Your mom was a foot away from you boring her eyes into your soul. Does she really have no idea why I wouldn't want to leave? "Mom,"

"If this is anything about my cancer," So she did.

"Don't say that," You tried to play it off and stuttered something about how you didn't particularly like Gotham anyway, you could keep looking for jobs here, but she wasn't having it.

"No no. I want you to live your life, sweetie. This is a spectacular opportunity!" Her singsong tone was back and you suddenly wanted to throw up. You wanted to blurt HOW MUCH TIME IS LEFT WITH YOU?? I CAN'T MISS IT! But, you didn't say anything and walked out of the kitchen back to your room. You didn't quite slam the door, but didn't make it silent. While your mother's selflessness was admirable, it was also frustrating. I only get one mom. You sat on the edge of your bed with your head in your hands. Whispers wafted from the kitchen but you couldn't make them out. The sound of footsteps, a pause, and then knocking on your door. "Hun, let's talk." It was your father.

"Dad, no, I'm tired,"

"You just woke up honeybun, I'm not buying that." He sat beside you on the end of your bed. It sagged a bit, not used to the extra company. He placed a hand on your shoulder. "What you're feeling about your mother, I've felt it too. I had the same conversation with her before going back to work.”

"I'm sure she was receptive." You rolled your eyes. He squinted at you. "Now, where is this attitude coming from?"

"I don't want to tell her because it'll make her sad. But. I. I have no idea how much longer she has left. And working would just take time away from her."

"Have you thought about how that might make your mother feel? Her life has changed enough. She's already reminded enough about her... illness."

"Cancer, Dad. Cancer." He never said the words. He shuddered but continued on.

"Her life has been turned upside, over, and back around. She does not need more reminders of how sick she might be."

"How sick she is." You shot a glare at your father, just then realizing how much contempt you felt toward him. It came rushing out of you. "You didn't even think to tell me her mobility changed. I had to see her frail and in a fucking wheelchair,"

"Now, calm yourself!" He snapped at you and took his hand off your shoulder. You scooted a little further from him, annoyed. Your voice was softer but the rock in your chest remained. "You didn't even tell me. She's lost so much weight. Her hair changed. You didn't even tell me. You won't even say the word 'cancer'." Your voice was starting to raise and he stood up. "Talk to your mother."

"Why? Didn't you say that'd just add extra stress? Remind her of her 'illness'?" You stood up and watched him walk to the door. "You weren't in the room with the doctor when he told me. He said it's this trial or fucking nothing."

"Don't use that language in my house!"

"It's my house too." By this point your mind was racing and your palms were sweaty and clammy and head hot, hands shaking. "If she doesn't get into this trial and this medicine doesn't work she's fucked."

He paused with his hand on the doorknob. "If you brought it up to her... maybe you'd see she's come to more peace than you have about it." With that, he left.

At 1:13pm the next day the phone rang. You hadn't talked to your mom about it as she was already headed out the door to see Debra, and didn't come back until late in the evening when she was visibly exhausted. Your dad helped tuck her into bed and she fell asleep quickly. Breakfast the next morning was fine, but tense; you were all anxiously awaiting this phone call. Your dad had stayed home from work just in case, and now your mom picked up the phone. "Yes, that's she. Yes. Yes, that's correct." And just by some small miracle, she'd gotten in.

Debra joined the party that evening. After a tearful raucous she was the first one your family called. Not ten minutes later she had arrived with a pie. "I baked it this morning. I figured we'd want something sweet no matter what."

The logistics were as-follows: your mom was going to be receiving her first shot of the drug (or, terrifyingly, a placebo) the following Friday. She would keep a diligent record of any side effects, even if they didn't seem related. Two weeks later she would receive her second dose and turn in the side-effect sheet, and that would continue for the following month until switching to once a month injections for the rest of the year. The first week of the new year your mother would get another scan, and that would be the first check-in. "They told me if everything goes how it should with the medication, I could not only see growth stunted, but be on the road to remission." Seeing how happy your parents were the rest of the evening only made the offer in Gotham more inviting; she'd been accepted, and if the results were, god forbid, horrendous in the new year, you would come home and help with the money you'd saved.

Clutching the laptop with white knuckles, you sent the acceptance email at 4:50pm the next day, ten minutes before the deadline. Half an hour later you were booked for your flight that Sunday at noon. Saturday was filled with laundry and packing bags; now Walter didn't want to leave your side. That night you hardly slept, staying up to pet him on the couch while your parents nodded off to a TV movie. The phrase mutually assured destruction came back to haunt you—you hadn't meant that to be a threat, but what if it was? You'd planned on never having to see him again... but the city was big. You could avoid him. And if you were going to trust him, he had said that even if you had written the exposé he wouldn't have hurt you.

You planned to come back once a month, leaving Thursday night and returning Sunday night. It fit well with your mom's trial schedule for the latter portion of the year, and you'd be able to come with her to her appointments. When you got on the plane and tucked your carryon under the seat it didn't feel so terrible. It felt less like leaving and more like a weird vacation. But as soon as you woke up in Gotham a rock hit the pit of your stomach. Fuck. I'm back.

The W was the hotel Dr. Vry had set up for you, only a floor below where you'd stayed with your parents the last time. You had one week to find an apartment, and Dr. Vry said to list her on any applications to 'speed up the process'. While waiting on the Uber to pick you up in the airport you'd sent one application to a place in North Gotham, a gorgeous gem of a spot with a full-size tub and in-unit washer dryer. Just as you pushed the key into your room at the hotel, you received a confirmation email with the date to retrieve your keys. Fuck, they made it too easy.

With a lot of time on your hands and a new neighborhood to explore, you abandoned your room and wandered around the blocks surrounding. You went more north this time, to avoid any fleeting memory of Bruce and whatever the hell he'd been up to.

Northern Gotham was certainly more family-friendly. You saw couples taking their babies out on walks instead of throngs of people clustering around the various clubs on every block. There was only one club you'd seen so far, and that one allowed minors until seven pm. You'd lived more downtown, central city, and never had reason to go further north until now. The apartment you'd been in was less than a thousand a month, which made sense how riddled it was with crime. It wasn't even close to Washington, but this didn't quite feel like the Gotham you knew close to campus.

You noticed a cute themed coffee shop on the corner ahead and went in. There were a few people and a couple sitting around the small room, working on their laptops or reading a book. It really felt like it wasn't Gotham, like you'd been transported back home for a quick moment. You went on Maps and saw that your new apartment was only three blocks east of the cafe. Safety. Serenity. Never thought I'd find a crumb of it here. You resigned to coming here as often as possible. You ordered a macchiato and sat on a leather loveseat as you waited. Your jeans bit into your stomach and you adjusted uncomfortably, the leather loud as you wiggled. I guess this is why this seat was empty. You were called up for your drink quickly and thanked them as you walked out back from whence you came. Though you hadn't been in the store for five minutes, it was already raining. Even Washington didn't rain in August, but you couldn't be too pressed. The rain was nice when it wasn't forcing you to be locked in the city mansion with the... no.

Bruce doesn't own this city. There's millions of people here. With your coffee in hand you made the trek back to the hotel, and after hopping into the giant bed you sat with your thoughts for a moment. Challey Hall... that wasn't the journalism department. The term started three Mondays later, and alongside the fifteen-hundred stipend for rent and utilities, Dr. Vry had emailed you with an extra thousand in the form of a digital check. In her words it was a 'settle-in fee'. Monday would be the meeting and then Dr. Vry would give you a tour of the places you'd be frequenting. You'd receive your schedule, and Tuesday through Sunday would be reserved for settling into the apartment and getting items for it so it wasn't an empty box. Why are they being so generous with the money? It didn't feel right, not when there was so much inequality in the city. You'd make sure to cut some costs and offer whatever was left after your first paycheck to the houseless people around campus.

As you walked back you couldn't help but think about how gigantic the city was. When considering whether or not to accept the position, you had vastly underrepresented the impact of the sheer size of the city on your psyche. It made you feel completely unimportant and equally as lost. It only served your insecurities, making you feel like even more of an outcast than you already felt in your small town just outside of Seattle. Mar. You could call Mar. She could come over, and you could tell her about Bruce. That would be a good icebreaker. Open up to her about why you'd been so MIA, about your mother's cancer, about why you left and why you came back. You needed someone to talk to.

An hour later you and her were sitting on the hotel bed eating takeout noodles. "So you're saying you stayed in Bruce Wayne's HOUSE, then he helped you pack up your apartment, then dropped you off at the airport," Her face was scrunched together, deep in thought as she recounted the last hour of conversation. Some broth from the noodles was on the top of her lip. "Then he was the commencement speaker at your graduation, he talked to your parents after, then later that night he found you again and talked to you?"

"When you say it like that it sounds like stalking." You shrugged and took another chomp of noodles. Mar stared at you. "If it sounds like stalking,"

"It's coincidence, I promise." You hadn't completely kept out the part where you two hated each other, you made sure that was clear, but you sure as hell kept out the why. Mar was trustworthy, sure, but you didn't even want to remember he was Batman. It made you anxious and nervous to think about him in the suit. Then you would've had to explain that you and Bruce were now circling each other with ammo pointed at the other's chest if one of you stepped out of line.

"I don't know, it sounds creepy. What if he shows up here in the middle of the night..." Mar trailed off when she saw you look away. You hadn't told Mar about your mom yet, and didn't know if you wanted to for fear of it becoming more real. You wanted to leave that out of Gotham. Leave the trauma, leave the guilt, leave it for the weekends when you would fly back. You shrugged and made a joke about getting to be associated with a billionaire. "Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he got papped here. Might boost my journalistic impact." The conversation moved away from Bruce after that, and you and Mar spent the rest of the evening talking, eventually laying in bed scrolling Scypher on your respective phones. The second you loaded the app, however, you saw a Dior ad everyone in Gotham was swooning over, and couldn't hold back your gasp.

He had not only been photographed often by paparazzi, it seemed, going on regular walks to downtown shops and local charity events, but this was his first official campaign. Mar leaned over and nodded, saying 'everyone' was talking about the photo. "I thought you'd already seen it, that's why you brought him up."

"No, I haven't." You scrolled through the comments trying to hold back a cringe.

He can top me

BARK BARK BARK

y did he keep his BEAUTY FROM US FOR SO LONG???????????

daddy

when is the rest of the campaign dropping asking for a friend

You turned your phone off and rolled over in bed. You told Mar goodnight (she decided to spend the night since she hadn't seen you in so long), murmuring something about having to be up the next day for your orientation. Bruce Wayne. Billionaire playboy. What the fuck happened with him?

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