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wineauntie · 4 months

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IT ISN’T THE END OF THE WORLD— q.hughes x hughes sister!reader

summary: three times that Quinn comforted you and one of the times you returned the favour.

notes: big brother Quinn is my Roman Empire, I can’t lie! You are five years younger than Quinn.

warnings: literally the fluffiest of fluffs, use of y/n and y/n/n, fem!reader.

word count: 3.5k+

1. being left out – aged six and eleven

You sat on the grass outside of your home, your knees tucked into your chest as tears dripped down your face. Ahead of you, Jack and Luke were skating around in rollerblades with a singular net set up on the tarmac as they played a game of hockey. You'd tried to join them, even going as far as strapping up your purple rollerskates but when you'd asked your two older brothers to join them, they'd outright told you that you weren't allowed.

"Y/n/n, this is boys only game," Jack had explained, half lifting you towards the grass and away from the road. "You can't play!"

"Yeah, you can't play," Luke piped up, fidgeting with his stick, his curls peeking out from beneath his helmet.

"But-" You'd tried to wiggle out of Jack's grasp as you reached the grass.

"Stay on the grass," Jack had urged, patting your head before he skated back towards Luke.

Your bottom lip trembled as you collapsed onto the grass beneath you, being forced to watch rather than partake. You couldn't understand why you couldn't just play with them. And as you cried, neither of the two boys noticed your tears or your splotchy face.

"Mom said dinner will be ready in an hour!"

Quinn's voice called out from the front door, in shock, you turned just in time for him to glance towards you. His face fell at the sight of your miserable eyes and he quickly shut the front door before making his way towards you.

"What's wrong?" His worried voice caused your lower lip to tremble once more. Even at eleven years old, Quinn was your protector. He was the one you ran to with every small problem, the one who'd sit you down and explain things and the one who you secretly favoured the most.

You cast a look over to Luke and Jack who continued their game, before you dropped your head between your knees. Quinn sighed and carefully sat beside you, his legs stretching out far beyond your own.

"What's wrong, y/n/n?"

That was what made you burst into tears again. A very startled Quinn rapidly put his arm around you, hugging you into his side. Your tears began to stain his shirt as he awkwardly patted your head.

"Jack and Luke won't let me play!" You wailed, as a small scowl crossed Quinn's face. "They said I have to stay here...I hate here!"

"C'mon now," Quinn tried to calm you. "We don't need to play with those two stupids." You let out a sniffly laugh as you rested against his shoulder.

"Mom said you can't call them stupid anymore," you croaked out, and now it was Quinn's turn to laugh.

"I know but I'll tell you a secret–they are!"

You smiled and looked towards your two brothers who were now fighting, pushing one another back and forth.

"How about you and me go in and have a tea party?" He suggested, scrunching his nose up as he watched Jack and Luke battle it out. "We can even dress up?" You jumped to your feet excitedly, dragging Quinn up with you.

"Please!" You giggled, pulling Quinn towards the house, your tears long forgotten. "I have a tiara for you!" Quinn painted an excited expression across his face, but very real happiness spread through his body at the sight of your joy.

2. the nightmares – aged eight and thirteen

You shot awake with a startled gasp, your small hands clutching your childhood teddy. You'd been getting nightmares for weeks yet you couldn't pinpoint where they'd begun— in reality, Jack had told you countless ghost stories about a small evil ghost lurking in your room, and you seemed to have taken that story to heart.

Tears welled in your eyes as you glanced around your room in terror, the light of a pink wall flower illuminated the majority of the room...yet the shadows that lingered left your body shaking. The horrors from your nightmares, which couldn't be remembered, haunted you and the thought of going back to sleep was virtually impossible.

Your bottom lip trembled as you clutched your teddy to your chest, and jumped out of the bed towards the hallway, not daring to look behind you. The light from the bathroom down the hall illuminated the darkness, as you stood dead centre with your head tilted slightly.

You didn't know where to go.

You'd already run to your mom and dad multiple times during the night and your little self felt rather guilty. You knew they needed their sleep– everyone did.

You stifled a whimper, your tears dripping down your face as you glanced down the hall, noticing a door slightly open. Without another thought, you rushed down the hall, your bare feet slapping against the wooden flooring as you entered the open door.

You slipped into the dark room, your teddy close to your chest as you approached the lump beneath the covers on the bed by the window. Soft snores echoed through the room as you crept towards the bed as quietly as possible. Your tears were still falling, as you sniffled and carefully tapped the lump's shoulder.

You watched as he stirred, and then a familiar voice broke through the darkness, "What time is it?" The voice was groggy with sleep, but the concern was evident.

"I had a nightmare again, Q," you whispered with bleary eyes, your voice trembling with pure fear and exhaustion. "I can't sleep. I'm sorry..."

Quinn sat up, rubbing his eyes before reaching out to pull you into a comforting embrace. "Shh, it's okay. C'mere," he yawned while reassuring you, his arms enveloping you in warmth and security. He lifted you onto the bed, his half-lidded eyes glancing towards his digital clock that blinked the time 3:45 am.

You buried your face into his chest, clinging to him as if he were your lifeline. His steady heartbeat beneath your ear offered a soothing rhythm, calming your racing thoughts.

"Want me to go tell Mom?" He asked, earning him a rapid shake of the head from you.

"Okay...do you want to stay here?" Quinn hesitantly offered with as soft of a voice as he could muster so early in the morning. He pulled you away from his ever so slightly so that he could look down at you. With a half-nod, you cuddled closer to him, letting him drape half of his blanket over your body.

"Just don't hog the covers," he grumbled, lying back down on the bed, his head burying itself in his pillow. "And don't wake up early."

You smiled and melted into the comfort of Quinn's bed, your head on the edge of the pillow you were being forced to share. The feeling of the weight of exhaustion finally pulled you under and as you drifted off to sleep, the nightmares seemed to fade away, replaced by the comforting presence of your older brother by your side.

The next morning, your mom had woken up, ready to bring you to practice, only to find your bed empty. A flare of panic shot through her body, all those horror stories of child abduction running through her mind as she exited the room with pursed lips.

Ellen peered into Luke's room first, her head sticking around the wooden frame. For a mere second, she allowed herself to stifle a smile at the sight of Luke sprawled across the bed like a starfish, his covers abandoned on the floor as soft breath escaped his mouth. She nodded slowly and closed the door before checking the room beside his.

Jack's room was messy. That was the first thing she noticed. Clothes were strewn across any furniture left in sight, with muddy shoes thrown into the corner. Ellen covered her mouth to stop herself from laughing at the sight of Jack sleeping. Jack, like Luke, was sprawled across his bed, only instead of actually being on the bed– Jack was hanging half off of it. His head was almost touching the rug on his floor — his toes the same. His head was thrown back with snores periodically escaping his mouth.

She shook her head lightly before closing the door quietly and moving towards the last bedroom in the hall. Quinn's door was ajar, allowing Ellen to silently slip in. She paused in her steps at the sight ahead of her. You curled up around Quinn, your teddy snug between you two, as his arm wrapped around your head protectively. The two of you were fast asleep, oblivious to the utter relief Ellen was feeling.

She watched the two of you for a few seconds before taking a quick picture and sending it to Jim with a soft smile. Ellen looked down at you two once more and fixed the cover over the both of you. She backed away slowly and slipped out of the room leaving the two of you to sleep in for the day.

3. sickness – aged 10 and fifteen

"Are you sure you'll be okay looking after her?"

Ellen grabbed a bag from the floor beside the couch Quinn sat on, a bowl of cereal in his hands as he watched a game. You had fallen sick two days prior due to the flu and were currently bed-bound. Your dad was out of state, and your mom had to take Luke and Jack to a hockey match in the next town over.

"Yeah, Mom, don't worry," Quinn answered through muffled words as he swallowed a spoonful of food. "I can take care of her for a few hours, it'll be fine."

Ellen bit her lip in worry glancing towards the stairs before ruffling Quinn's hair. "Don't start a fire or kill either yourself or y/n," she instructed, "she might wake up soon and might want food, only give her toast and water or she'll throw it all up."

"Mom, I got it," Quinn reassured her, standing up and gathering Luke's hockey bag in his arms. "I'll help you bring these out."

Your mom had left ten minutes after with Jack and Luke, leaving Quinn in charge of the house. You had woken up to the sound of Luke yelling and the door slamming behind him. Your throat felt raw from the amount of coughing you were doing combined with the fact you could only breathe from your mouth as your nose was blocked up.

You groaned into your pillow, your clammy hands clutching your uneasy stomach as you buried yourself beneath your covers. Quinn cautiously peeked into your room at the noise of you moving around, his eyes wide and careful as they landed on your paled face and shaking body.

Quinn hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. He had never been in charge of taking care of you while you were sick before. But seeing you there, looking so vulnerable and unwell, he knew he had to step up.

Taking a deep breath, Quinn quietly approached your bed, trying not to startle you. "Hey, it's just me," he said softly, his voice filled with concern. "How are you feeling?"

You managed to croak out a weak response, your voice barely audible. Quinn frowned and his eyebrows furrowed upon seeing how much you were struggling. Without another word, he hurried downstairs to grab a glass of water and a slice of bread for toast, just as your mom had instructed.

Returning to your room, Quinn carefully placed the items on your bedside table, as he helped you sit up, propping pillows behind your back for support. You moaned in discontent at the feeling of sickness that continued to roll through your body as he handed you the glass of water and a piece of toast.

"Drink slowly," he spoke carefully, watching anxiously as you took small sips and nibbled on the food. "You don't feel like getting sick, do you?!"

You shook your head weakly, placing the leftover crusts on your plate. You felt a tickle grow in your throat as another cough wracked through your body. Quinn jumped into action, running your back as he'd seen Mom do countlessly over the past two days. His warm hand lent you comfort as your body contorted.

Once the coughing subsided, you leaned back against the pillows, feeling exhausted but a little better with Quinn by your side. He stayed with you, chatting softly and making sure you were comfortable until you drifted off to sleep again, knowing that you were in good hands.

As you rested, Quinn kept a watchful eye on you, ready to spring into action at any sign of distress. Halfway through your unrestful nap, your body shook violently, yet your forehead was beaded with sweat. Quinn gulped in worry as he covered you with a blanket and wiped your forehead with a cool cloth.

He hated seeing you like this, it made him want to kick whoever had passed the sickness onto you.

Throughout the day, Quinn checked in on you regularly, making sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed. He even brought up some of your favourite books and movies to help pass the time when you woke, staying by your side until you drifted off to sleep again.

When your mom finally returned home with Jack and Luke– both elated from their win, she was relieved to find you resting peacefully, thanks to Quinn's attentive care.

"You did well, Quinn," Your mom smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he scrunched up his nose. "Thank you."

Quinn simply shrugged it off as he looked towards your sleeping figure. Despite his nonchalant expression, deep down, he felt a sense of pride erupt inside of him knowing that he had been there for you when you needed him most.

"Let's hope you don't get sick now," Ellen hummed, brushing a hand through his hair. Quinn pushed a smile onto his face, getting sick would be worth it as long as you were better.

4. moving away – aged 16 and 20

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow into Quinn's room, illuminating the chaos of packing strewn across the floor. Hockey jerseys, equipment, and mementoes from his years of playing for the local team adorned his walls, each item holding memories of victories, defeats, and the camaraderie of teammates. But today, there was a sense of bittersweetness in the air, a mixture of excitement and sadness, as Quinn prepared to completely leave Michigan behind and embark on a new chapter of his life in Vancouver. He had been offered the opportunity to play for the Vancouver Canucks, a dream come true for any aspiring hockey player. But with it came the prospect of leaving behind everything he had ever known – our family, our home, our tight-knit community.

You sat on the edge of his bed, watching him carefully fold his clothes, a furrow of worry etched on his brow. "Are you okay, Quinn?" you asked softly, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

He sighed, setting down the hoodie he was folding and meeting your gaze with a mix of apprehension and sadness in his eyes. "I don't know," he eventually admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. He ran a hand through his tousled hair. "I mean, Vancouver is such an incredible opportunity, but... I'm going to miss everyone and don't you dare tell that to the idiots out back."

You let a small smile grace your face at the thought of Jack and Luke catching wind of Quinn's unease. You found yourself nodding understandingly, feeling a pang of sadness yourself at the thought of Quinn leaving. He was not only your older brother but also one of your best friends, someone you had always looked up to and relied on for guidance and support. The idea of him being thousands of miles away was daunting, to say the least.

Even when he was in college he was only one measly phone call away and then another forty-minute drive. He was never thousands of miles away in a different country.

You nodded sympathetically, understanding the weight of his dilemma. Quinn had always been fiercely devoted to our family and friends, and the thought of leaving them behind was undoubtedly terrifying. But deep down, You knew he couldn't let this opportunity slip away – not when it was his chance to shine on the ice and pursue his passion for hockey at the highest level.

"Quinn, listen to me," I said, stepping closer to him and placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "I know it's scary to leave, but this is your dream we're talking about. You've worked so hard for this moment, and you can't let fear hold you back."

"You'll do great, Quinn," you continued to reassure him, with a cracked smile. "And we'll still be here for you, no matter how far away you are. Plus, Vancouver should be nice, and I've only been there twice, maybe I can visit with Mom and Dad?"

Quinn managed a small smile at your words, though you could tell the worry still lingered in his eyes. "I know," he said softly. "But it won't be the same without having you all there with me." He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. "I don't want to leave you all behind."

I smiled softly, feeling a swell of pride for my big brother. "We'll be okay, Quinn. Mom and Dad are proud of you, and so are Luke, Jack, and I. Hell, before you know it, Jack might be up there playing with you, who knows!"

A sense of calm washed over Quinn as your words sank in, his tense shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. He knew that no matter where his hockey career took him, your family would always be his anchor, his support system through thick and thin. You scooted closer to him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

"We'll always be here for you, Quinn," you whispered, feeling the weight of the impending separation settling over you both. "And we'll be cheering you no matter where you are, no matter what happens, every step of the way."

You sat there in silence for a moment, clinging to each other as if afraid to let go. But eventually, Quinn pulled away, a determined look in his eyes as he resumed packing his belongings.

"You're right," he sighed, his voice steady with newfound resolve.

"As always," you beamed with a laugh, as Quinn elbowed you playfully. You bowed your head glancing at Quinn briefly. "I'm gonna miss you, y'know?"

"I know," he hummed, "but like you said, you can come visit whenever you want and you can call or text me whenever you need to." You nodded silently, swallowing the lump in your throat.

You smiled, feeling a surge of pride welling up inside you. Your brother may be leaving Michigan behind, but you knew that he was destined for great things in Vancouver. And no matter where life took you, you would always be there for each other, bound by the unbreakable bond of family.

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 4 months

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⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ My Brother's Best Friend Is The Guy For Me

content: leo valdez x daughter of jupiter! grace! reader warning: language (you startin to see a pattern yet?), mentions of a bra, kissing ig, author's note: another day another fanfic idea that haunted me until I wrote it. I'm really just a victim of my own mind😣😣 Also, deepest apologies i could drop three fics rn but i don't wanna like flood the tags or other people's feeds. but, if you guys want me to, just say the word🫡🫡🫡 I'm a people pleaser to my bones. Oh, and this is very non-canon compliant, i know. I'm re-reading the percy jackson series first bc i like things to be in order, even tho my fav was the lost hero. my copy of the lost hero just sits on my bedside table, staring at me until i finish the other books. IM SORRY-

after arriving in new rome, piper and leo figured it would be best to drag jason around the city and see if they could jumpstart his memory with familiar sights. they got lost a few times and clearly news of jason being back had yet to spread, as every few feet there were shocked looks and questions thrown at the trio. jason answered them, always, but people were quick to move on. almost like he wasn’t even missed. piper and leo could both sense jason coming to this conclusion and were unsure how to rectify the issue. jason sighed as he desperately looked at some statue, hoping against hope that it would mean something to him and just allow him to remember. like percy had the second he’d seen annabeth. jason barely knew percy and he was already growing bitter towards the boy, seeing it unfair that he got all of his memories back while jason was still just working with just flashes of smudged faces and warm feelings.

“anything?” piper whispered and jason just shook his head. he sighed before nodding towards where the ship should still be.

“We should be getting back,” he murmured, already walking away from the pair. leo and piper shared a glance, frowns deep set on their faces.

then, the clatter of metal on brick was heard, causing all three of them to jolt their heads towards the source of the noise. there stood a girl, probably their age, swords and spears scattered around her feet as she just stared at them. her hair was the color of golden straw, maybe a shade or two darker than jason’s. leo could tell tears were pooling in her eyes, her…shockingly blue eyes. leo’s eyes widened as he connected the dots before glancing at jason, who stilled and his eyes glazed over like he was lost in thought. she was dressed in the typical roman demigod attire, a purple shirt just peeking out from under a toga of sorts. she, admittedly, looked a little worse for wear; her hair was tangled and desperately pulled back into a ponytail, her eyes had bags under them, and she had clearly spent many recent nights awake.

“jason?” she asked in a broken sob, her chest heaving and the tears beginning to leak out of her eyes. jason’s eyes stayed on her before he jolted forwards, like he’d been struck by lightning. something snapped inside him, sending the boy rushing towards the girl, years and years of memories flashing before his eyes as he pulled her into a strong and loving embrace. memories of growing up together, training together, laughing and crying together. memories of his twin sister; no, memories of his baby sister. yes, yes, he was older. he remembers now. he knew he was still missing large chunks of his life, but getting his sister back was the only thing that mattered in the moment.

“y/n,” he gasped out as the girl cried against his chest, her hands desperately grasping at his shoulders. jason cried too, curling around her like she was the only thing that mattered, that protective older brother feeling coming back and filling his chest once more, slowly chipping away at the hole that juno left there.

“i- i looked for you. i didn’t give up, even after reyna put me on camp arrest. i knew you wouldn’t just leave, i knew it. they gave up too quickly, they just gave up,” the girl cried against his chest, pulling back to look at her brother, who had been gone for far too long. jason nodded at her, giving her shoulders a squeeze and offering her a comforting smile.

“it’s okay, y/n, i’m here now. and i remember you, which is more than enough for me,” he told her and her matching smile slowly slipped off her face.

“…you forgot me?” she whispered out, new tears brimming in her eyes. jason opened his mouth to reply but only sounds came out, his panic to comfort his little sister becoming overwhelming.

“it’s a long story. i’m piper and you must be jason’s sister?” piper cut in, saving the poor roman boy as she stepped forwards, her hand held out. some of her hair was standing up on its own, the moment the siblings collided sending a minor shockwave through the area causing both leo and piper’s hair to fly upwards from the static. y/n pulled her eyes from her brother, turning to the beautiful girl before her, bashfully acknowledging the flyaway hair. she let go of jason, promptly straightening her back out and shaking piper’s hand with both of hers.

“yes, yes. sorry, where are my manners?! i’m y/n grace, jason’s twin sister. lovely to meet you, piper,” she stated, a composed and diplomatic look taking over her face, which still had tear-stains but it didn’t make her appear any less regal.

piper smiled sweetly at the girl, the roman-ness of her basically radiating off like static electricity. though…she had a feeling the girl before her had a rebellious streak, based on the nike blazers on her feet instead of the standard sandals. y/n then turned her attention to leo, who quickly pulled himself out of his daydreams and took her hand into his, promptly flipping it over and pressing his lips to the back of her hand with a dazzling smile. the girl flared with a blush, looking away and slowly pulling her hand back, resting it flat against her stomach.

“leo valdez, at your service, princesa,” he mused as jason shot a glare at leo, who just smiled cheekily and pretended not to see it. he couldn’t help himself; it really wasn’t in his nature to ignore pretty girls, even if they were his best friend’s sister.

“come on, y/n, we’ve got a lot to talk about,” stated jason, nodding his head towards the streets of new rome. y/n’s eyes seemed to brighten at the prospects of getting updates on her brother and she quickly scooped up the swords and spears, leaning them against a bench before scampering off after her brother.

“i’ll meet you two at the boat later,” jason called, smiling widely at the pair, who waved him off. they shared a look, their smiles matching jason’s in size. they were just happy he was happy, assumably finally gaining back some memories.

piper shoved leo before turning around and heading in the opposite direction of the grace siblings and towards the argo ii. leo followed for a moment before looking over his shoulder, being met by the sight of the youngest grace doing the same. their eyes locked for a moment, the girl offering him the softest and sweetest smile he’d ever seen. leo beamed back at her, hoping she couldn’t see the steam rolling off him from so far away. they held each other's gaze for as long as they could before the daughter of jupiter disappeared behind the block. leo stopped, feeling the pounding of his chest and hearing the roar of his heartbeat in his ears before piper tugged him down the block with a glare.

“you cannot,” she hissed at him and leo gave her an innocent look as they started to walk towards the boat.

“i don’t know what you're talking about,” he lied, easily, averting his eyes from hers and pretending to take in the views new rome had to offer.

“i know when you lie, repair boy. you can’t date jason’s sister that he just got his memories back of. that’s, like, totally against bro code,” she huffed at him and leo rolled his eyes.

“you don’t even know bro code.” “i know enough. she’s off limits, valdez.”

and leo just smirked, wanting her more now that she was forbidden fruit. and based on how she looked at him, he had a feeling this thing wasn’t one sided.

over the next few days, while they were conversing over what to do and how to proceed as a group, leo went out of his way to immerse himself in the grace family. originally, he will admit, leo simply got close with y/n because he thought she was super hot, apparently forbidden, and totally out of his league. but, as he grew closer with the daughter of jupiter, he grew more attached. instead of focusing on her shiny hair, he found himself looking forward to her dumb jokes and they way she threw her head back when she laughed, desperately trying to cover her mouth with her hands. he quickly forgot - not entirely, of course, with a girl that attractive it’s kinda hard to miss - her dazzling figure, instead finding comfort in the soft looks she gave him when they spent too long planning the quest and boredom was starting to set in. his yearning for her was rapidly turning into something more solid, something more love-adjacent. he was certain that the princess of the gods was going to be the death of him…that being that jason didn’t get to him first.

it was one late evening when it happened, the breaking point between the two. most everyone had turned in for the night after a long day of arguing and training, the teens just wanted to sleep. save for y/n, who was sitting on the railing of the ship, her legs dangling over the edge and swinging through the sky. her eyes were trained on the setting sun, vibrant oranges and yellows shooting out from behind some mountain, turning to deep blues and lavenders as time continued to pass. jason told the girl good night, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before walking away. her eyes followed him for a moment before turning back to the sunset.

“careful, wouldn’t want you to fall,” leo joked as he walked up, resting his forearms against the railing next to her and keeping his eyes on the sun too. y/n laughed lightly, glancing at the curly-haired boy next to her.

“yes, you're soooo right, i'd have no way to save myself at all,” the girl mused, swishing her hand purposefully and causing a breeze to rush through leo’s hair, just teasing the beginning of her powers. he laughed lightly, looking over at her. she held his eyes for a moment before flirting them back to the sun.

“it’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she questioned. “yeah. gorgeous,” leo murmured back but his eyes weren’t on the sun at all but rather locked on her, enjoying the way she looked drenched in golden light.

y/n turned at his distracted tone and caught that his eyes were locked on her. she blushed and had the urge to look away but refused to do so, even pulling the courage from somewhere to move closer to the boy. leo shifted slightly, pushing himself closer and higher up so she wouldn’t have to bend so much to meet his gaze. his eyes flirted down to her lips before returning to her eyes, tilting his head the slightest bit in question at her. y/n swallowed nervously but she still reached her hand out, allowing her fingers to dance along the junction between his shoulder and neck.

“i wasn’t talking about the sunset,” admitted leo, his eyes staying trained on her as she leaned closer, mere centimeters between their lips. “i know,” she whispered and he felt the puffs of breath against his lips.

they weren’t sure who jolted forwards first, all they knew was that their lips were finally meeting. leo’s hand slid up her legs to her waist, his fingers desperate to feel her, to hold her close. her hand moved from his neck to his cheek, pulling his lips impossibly closer. leo was sure he felt sparks, but he just wasn’t sure how much of them were imagination or the daughter of lightning. leo pulled back first but her lips chased after his without much control. he chuckled at her, causing the girl to flush once again. she was easily embarrassed, leo found out. he also discovered that he loved the red hue on her face more than most things.

“jason’s gonna kill me,” she gulped, her brows furrowing and a panic flashing across her eyes as she looked at leo. leo reached up, cupping her face in his hands and he watched the fear slowly melt off her features.

“oh, to hades with jason. i like you…like, really like you. he can just get over it…saying that you like me, too,” replied leo, glancing down as he finished his sentence.

“hey, it’s not every boy that’s got me sparking, you know,” cut in y/n, causing leo to notice the sparks that flew off from her hands and hair every now and then, “i like you, too, leo. i thought that was obvious.”

“just checking,” leo stated with a dopey smile, which y/n managed to match with her own.

“no, but really, we’ve got to talk to jason,” she told leo firmly, who went to shrug her off again.

“talk to jason about what?” the man of the hour questioned as he walked back out onto the deck. y/n instantly paled, sputtering out vowels and constants but unable to form any words. leo subtly moved away from y/n, trying to remember what distance is acceptable for friends that totally didn’t just kiss and confess that they might love each other.

“What- what are you doing out here, jase?? i thought- you said you were going to bed,” the girl managed to spit out, finally. jason glanced between the two before reaching forwards and grabbing his jacket from the back of a chair, presenting it to the pair.

“piper accidentally left this up here…what’s going on? What did you have to tell me?” jason pushed, crossing his arms and glaring at the both of them. y/n shared a glance with leo, who’s eyes told her not to say anything before she turned back to her brother.

“jason, i- i really like leo. and i know you’ve got this whole protective streak thing but he-” “it’s cool,” jason cut in, shrugging his shoulders. y/n halted to a stop, frowning before cutting her eyes back up to her brother. leo nearly fell on his face with how quickly he turned to look at the son of jupiter.

“What?” they questioned in sync. “like, we’re good. leo, you’re my best friend. honestly, you’re probably the best guy to date my sister. though, if you even so much as think about hurting her, i'll deep fry you, got it?” jason added, turning and giving leo a cutting glare. leo’s back straightened out and he faked a salute at his friend.

“i have no plans of doing that, sir,” leo joked, using a largely fake sargent-like voice. y/n cracked a smile, hiding it behind her hand with a shake of her head. she then turned her attention to jason, who glanced between the two with a warm look.

“great! i’m actually off to bed now. sleep well, the both of you,” stated jason, waving a hand over his shoulder as he walked away. y/n turned back to leo, waiting a few seconds before promptly shooting forwards and pressing her lips against his. leo smiled into the kiss, knowing jason had nothing to worry about; he didn’t have plans on letting her go any time soon. as they pulled apart, y/n’s eyes trailed upwards and they widened near the top of his head.

“um, leo?” “yeah?” he questioned in a nearly dreamy voice. “your hair is on fire.” “oh, gods, not again,” he groaned, reaching and rapidly patting at the tiny flames with a roll of his eyes. y/n chuckled into her hand once more, watching all this with an amusing glint in her eyes.

“oh, yeah? you find this funny, princesa?” he bit out, jokingly glaring at her. she rolled her eyes at him as he leaned forwards and pressed his lips to hers.

then he did something unexpected, allowing his fingers to toy with the hem of her shirt. there was a moment of pause, just enough for her to push him away. When nothing happened, he slid his hand under, allowing his fingers to dance over her skin, slowly but surely climbing upwards and upwards the tip of his middle finger just barely brushing the bottom of her lace bra-

“that’s it! both of you, separate! i was cool and now i'm very much not cool,” jason shouted, causing the two to jump apart as jason stormed up to them, grabbing a hold of y/n and steering her towards the stairs to go below deck. he spun around, pointing at leo as they went.

“and keep your nasty paws off my sister!” “jason!” y/n cut in with an exasperated groan.

“don’t talk to your brother-in-law that way!” leo called back with a smirk before a gust of wind knocked him on his ass. he shouted greek and spanish curses at jason, who couldn’t understand them but it didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was saying. With a final battle of middle fingers, jason once more began to pull y/n below deck.

leo stood back up, rolling his eyes at the older twins' antics as y/n shot a look over her shoulder, just like the first day they met. her eyes glimmered at leo and she smiled a megavolt smile that only she could master, causing leo to return with a smile of his own. and as he watched her disappear from view, he couldn’t help but smirk, knowing that he’d do anything in his power to keep the daughter of jupiter by his side. he’d do anything for that smile, for that laugh, for that girl. even kissing ass to her brother for a few weeks.

author's note cont. : i feel like this was such a cute concept but my sleep depraved brain could not produce at the level i wanted smh 😭😭😭 but i also needed it to be done. but, c'est la vie! i think it's cute and sweet, but also rushed and held together with blood sweat and tears. anyways, good vibes and juju to everyone all over the world. kisses from covey😘😘😘

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #leo valdez x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo #percy jackson #pjo #jason grace #pjo fandom #leo valdez #heroes of olympus

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somewhereincairparavel · 2 months

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What would the seven wear? - Fashion Style analysis ( HOO Girls Ver.)

as a kid I used to want to be a fashion designer so making this post healed my inner child <3 enjoy ~

HAZEL LEVESQUE - okay okay omgg this girl would have the best fashion sense out of all of them (imo) because she is influenced by SO many fashion aesthetics, like her style would be vintage and modern at the same time! I feel like she would love long flowy dresses because it was the most common clothing women would wear in the 40's, she would love floral patterns sm because they are so cheery and it lightens her mood, this would bring out her "adorable" style more. also. JACKETS. this girl is OBESSED with jackets and cardigans, particularly in the colors brown and black. Overall her style is a mix of cheery, cute but she has that pluto edge to her style aswell with the jackets.

PIPER MCLEAN- honestly as much as she would hate to admit it, i feel like Piper would LOVE pink, pale pink takes up the majority of her palette. Her style is very youthful and it's a mix of rebel indie kid and soft coquette core. LOVES LOVES LOVES denim shorts, they are like a must in her wardrobe. Also, She loves jewelry, whether it be tassel earrings, beady bracelets and necklaces, rings etc. like she defo cares more about accessorizing than the actual clothing. she wears baggy white shirts a lot for some reason, but it suits her so well. Crop tops are a must, specifically pink or purple ones with a cute image on it, remember she wore a hello kitty crop top? yeah like that. I feel like her style is the most fresh and childlike without it being over the top, it is so cute. i love her style sm.

ANNABETH CHASE- Annabeth's style is super elegant tbh, she LOVES wearing grey, orange and white imo, also, i feel like she LOVES light blue/dark blue jeans. Ofc Annabeth loves caps, its like super dear to her, she doesn't have a specific "style" she just loves changing it a lot. Annabeth LOVES long dresses especially if they are white/warm brown. Her style is just super chill and modern. Percy is down bad when she wears baggy shirts tho cuz she slays so hard in them Annabeth loves knitted lace jackets because it gives off very homely vibes. Overall her style is super authentic and fresh tbh.

REYNA AVILA RAMIREZ ARELLANO- i have a feeling that reyna would love dressing up. it brings her comfort, she was the hairdresser in circe's island after all, Reyna is just straight up royal core. she likes wearing corsets, and silk gowns, Her color palette is gold, black, white, violet, and dark maroon tbh. Reyna LOVES large gold earrings that just dangle y'know? it makes her feel and look regal. She also loves circlets that you wear on the head. uggh she has got that roman classiness y'know. Super fancy and enjoys wearing long robes and skirts, i love my fancy shmancy queen <3

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crownofgildedlilies · 2 months

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tellin' myself i can always do with out it -> cool about it [3]

in which: a son of jupiter can't remember the life he lost to time and circumstance. or the daughter of mercury he lost, too.

pairing: jason grace x daughter of mercury!roman!reader

warnings: cursing, angst, threats of violence, actual violence

word count: 6.6k

a/n: I simply cannot talk enough about this fic. also, reminder, this has a nonlinear plot!

one two [three] four

Thunderstorms sent your blood singing.

The drop in temperature, the racing winds, the sound of torrential rain and striking lighting. You loved it all. When you were little, sometimes the only sense of stability and routine you had would be the clap of thunder following the bolt of electricity arcing from the skies.

You loved thunder.

But thirty seconds ago, there hadn’t been a cloud in sight.

You had noticed the change in the air instantly, maybe even quicker than your half-siblings seated around the Mess Hall table with you, arguing over where the best vacation spot would be, if demigods could safely vacation.

"Somewhere warm!"

"Somewhere with a view!"

"Somewhere with lots of tourists to pickpocket."

"This is why us kids of Mercury have a bad name, Reggie."

The storm was centralized over the field set aside for War Games, which piqued your curiosity even more, because you knew Jason volunteered to oversee the group assigned to clean the shrapnel from the grass.

There had been some disgruntled comments over the fact that you hadn’t been assigned clean-up duty, considering it was entirely your doing during the last games that led to so much damage on the field. Jason had stepped in to settle the issue, and somehow ended up leading the group.

He's always sticking up for her, a daughter of Mars named Janis that followed after Octavian like a leashed dog had muttered. It’s not fair that the Praetor has favorites.

And though Janis had meant to insult you, you took the comment with a smile full of sharp teeth. Because you couldn’t exactly deny that you were one of Jason’s favorites, and the fact was so far from upsetting.

"All you, Centurion," Your half-sister snickered, shoving your shoulder in the direction of the vicious storm. And really, you couldn't deny that you were probably the only one capable of breaching the gale force winds to calm the source at its heart.

Meaning, no one but you could get close to Jason when he was in such a state.

"Pride of the Praetor!" Another sibling shouted as you stood, and they should have counted themselves lucky that you were more worried about finding Jason and not launching the remains of your lunch at them in retaliation. Your face flushed, but you didn't give any reaction beyond your middle finger extending over your shoulder as you turned to leave.

You would be lying if you said that you didn't walk just a little faster than typical towards the source of the storm. The alarms hadn't been raised, so it wasn't an attack, but the wind had picked up and rain was hammering the ground in an almost perfect circle, a ring of soaked Romans clad in purple standing at the edge.

"It's bad, this time," Rico, a fellow member of the Fifth Cohort, winced when he saw you approach, his dark hair stuck up in every direction from the wind, his hands wringing the rain from hem of his shirt. "Like, bad. You sure you want to go in there?"

You made a low sound in the back of your throat, almost like a hum, more similar to a warning. Through the haze of the rain, you could see Jason hunched on the ground, right in the eye of the storm. Head tucked between his knees, shoulders heaving with his heavy breaths.

"You think this is bad?" You settled on asking, tone almost scoffing. Rico shot you a glance, like he couldn't believe careful, curated Praetor Grace could get much worse. "You should have seen him after Krios almost killed me."

Rico shuddered at the mention of the Titan, killed only a few short months back. Or maybe it was at the memory of war, but maybe it was at the memory of how Jason had nearly torn down all of Mount Tamalpais after the battle, searching for your injured body in the rubble.

"Henry almost got blasted just now." Rico tried to counter, after a moment, nodding his head in the direction of the storm crackling with lightning every few seconds.

"Henry probably deserved it," You said flatly, not missing a beat and tugging an elastic from your wrist to tie back your hair. It wouldn't do you any good, flying around in your face while you fought to get to Jason through the storm.

A dozen feet to your left, Henry let out an offended 'hey!', but you had already grit your teeth and stepped into the bubble of chaos.

Towards Jason. Always, to him.

Rico murmured something about you being crazy, probably for being stupid enough to dive headfirst into one of angry Jason's thunderstorms, but you had never really seen him as a scary son of Jupiter.

The myths about the king of the gods were… less than flattering. Egotistical, paranoid, cheating, lying, lord of the heavens, Jupiter.

But your Jason? He was all that was good in the world.

A protector, a fighter, a total sweetheart. Real pretty, too.

And yet, as he sat in the middle of swirling winds and torrential rains that no one wanted to get close to, you saw his father in him.

The anger, the depths of power. It was, always, all in Jason. Hidden, yes, under his bright smile and caring temperament, but there, nonetheless.

The anger wasn’t enough to scare you off. You weren’t sure anything about him would be enough to do that. Besides, hadn't you shown him time and time again just how relentlessly angry you could be?

And he still stayed. Still paid for your coffees in New Rome and let you borrow his books on military strategy, which you would have found unendingly dry if it weren't for his annotations, written in blue ink in the margins. Sometimes, you found yourself reading his thoughts more than the actual text.

Once, he’d written your name at the bottom of the page, next to a star, and when you had asked him about it he had flushed and claimed it was a reminder to himself to ask your opinions on the strategy listed.

You could have kissed him right there. You should have.

He wasn’t a bad guy. He just had rotten luck in fathers and temperament when pushed too far.

So you planted your feet in the dirt and fought against the winds and rain to get to him. You didn’t even care that you had an audience, or that your clothes stuck to your body with the sudden onslaught of rain and storm chilling you to the bone.

All that mattered, ever, was Jason.

Reaching where he sat, tucked tightly in on himself, you dropped into the spot beside him, so close your knee dug into his thigh.

The moment you joined him, he turned to face you with red-rimmed eyes, and the sight was enough to clench your heart in a cold, fearful fist. Anger knitted his brows together, a wolf’s snarl on his lips, but it all softened when he saw it was you beside him.

You had expected him to be angry, yes, but you had rarely ever seen the total fury that now shone bright in his eyes.

"Jase?" You had to shout to be heard over the wind, but your voice still came out quiet. Instantly, the winds died around you, though they raged in the greater circle around the both of you that you had already fought through, creating a bubble of peace and serenity between you and nosy Roman onlookers.

Silence roared in your ears, a dozen sets of eyes burned holes into your back, waiting to see how Fifth's most violent calmed New Rome's most powerful.

"I don't—" Jason started, voice tight, but you stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Hold on," You murmured, then twisted in your spot to face the drenched crowd at the edge of the storm. They couldn’t hear you, not as wind and thunder still raged around the bubble Jason had granted you, but they could see you.

More importantly, they could see your middle finger, raised once more.

Fuck off and leave us be, you said in your own form of sign language.

Rico got the message first, started shoving the other Romans in the direction off of field and back towards main camp without further prompting.

“There. Better.” You hummed, turning back towards Jason. You knew things were bad, this time, like, bad as Rico had so eloquently put it when Jason didn't even humor you with a teasing, chastising grin.

You're not going to make any friends that way, he had once shook his head and smiled, fist knotted in the back of your shirt between your shoulders as he practically dragged you away from Octavian's gaggle of brainless bruisers. You had long since given up on trying to fight back against him, because he was bigger and stronger and had thoroughly kicked your ass in sparring once that day already.

Good. I don't need any other friends. I already have you, you had spat, letting yourself be led like a feral kitten picked up by the scruff of their neck by some heart-of-gold animal rescue volunteer.

Might not have me forever, Jason had suggested, and you dug your heels so deep into the ground you actually managed to force him to stop.

Don't even joke about that, Jason Grace, you had seethed, voice tight, and you had watched the panic cross his face at the lethality of your glare, the silent promise of what you would do to him if he kept making comments about his exit from your life.

Sorry, soldier. Won’t happen again, he had promised. I’ll be by your side forever.

Point was, even when he didn't exactly approve of your actions, he still granted you the privilege of his scar-flecked smile.

“Jase,” On instinct, your fingers carded through his soaked hair, moving it off his forehead for just the chance to touch him. “Baby, what happened?”

“You only ever call me that when you’re worried,” He pointed out, dodging the question. You frowned, tilting your head towards him involuntarily, as if you could physically see what was bothering him if only you moved closer.

"I am worried." You told him flatly, still trying to get him to meet your eye, wondering if maybe it would be affective if you tried to physically smooth away the anger living in the knot of his brows. "Forecast said we weren't supposed to have rain until next week."

"I don't want to talk about it," He grunted, holding his head between his hands. You told yourself it was because he was growing overwhelmed by his fury, not that he did so to stop your fingers from brushing comfortingly across his skin.

"What did Henry do?" You took a shot in the dark.

"Henry?" He asked, momentarily startled out of his frustration by the sudden, out-of-place question. He lifted his stare towards you, confusion briefly breaking up the anger displayed across his face. "Nothing."

"Right, remind me to apologize to him later." You kept your voice light, praying to gods that only ever picked and chose when they listened that he would take the bait and grin along with you.

It didn't work.

"Don't make me kick your ass for keeping secrets from me," You puffed out your chest like you ever had any hope of being intimidating to Jason. Sure, a good chunk of Camp Jupiter groaned and lamented when they learned they were going up against you in the War Games, but Jason had never.

He ducked your gaze, and your patience started dangling on a very thin thread, so you leaned to the side and placed your chin on his shoulder, proving to him that you weren't giving up so easily. Not that he needed the reminder. He had once seen you, for weeks, track down the legionnaire that had unintentionally taken your unassigned assigned seat in the Mess Hall, slightly inconveniencing her every chance you had.

Romans were known for their relentless dedication, after all.

"Jason Grace," You tried again, forcing a feigned disappointed edge to your voice. Your next step was to start whining, then maybe you would set your hand on his leg, the shortest inch above his knee. That always got him flustered, and you enjoyed rosy-cheeked Jason far more than you cared to admit. "Give me a name, at least. I wanna know who we're mad at."

He sighed, and even though he still wasn't looking at you, you took that as a victory.

"Damien," He huffed the name, hands flinching into fists atop his knees and scar flexing as he spoke.

"Oh, that dick," You cursed, grinning, because sure Damien might have been the most obnoxious son of Venus you had ever met, but he was leagues above Octavian in terms of summon a thunderstorm types of anger inducing. Jason grunted, in agreement, and you dug your chin harder into his shoulder, a silent reprimand for not looking at you. Maybe you should kiss him there, as punishment. "Why are we mad?"

We. It wasn't even a question. If someone pissed off Jason, chances are you were already plotting their demise. And if someone pissed off you? Well, that was just an average Tuesday, but Jason still had your back.

"Don't make me say it," He pleaded, the broken edge to his voice shattering through both his anger and your chest, rocking you to your core.

"Humor me." You asked, because the alternative was tracking down Damien and beating the truth out of him, but you had searched out Jason with the intentions of helping him calm down, not riling him up more.

Even if you were probably going to find Damien the moment you left the field, anyways.

He sighed, again, and lifted his stare to yours. His blue eyes were still cracking with lingering fury and rain raced down the slant of his nose, dripping off the end and falling into the soaked grass.

They said lightning never struck the same place twice. But Jason's did, scorching your heart each time he caught his gaze against yours.

And maybe that was only a metaphor, or all in your head, but his real lightning blasted a crater into the dirt thirty-some odd feet to your left, in a spot you were pretty certain had been the same one in which he had used a bolt to shred apart a water cannon during War Games, once.

“It can’t have been so bad." You reasoned, because if you stayed silent any longer, you would have done nothing but stare into his eyes for the rest of time. "I hit Damien too hard over the head during training a few weeks ago for him to think of clever insults.”

Jason offered you a dry chuckle then, darting his stare to his fists, still clenched atop his knees. Without thinking of the consequences, you settled your hand over one of his.

"He called you annoying,"

"I am annoying," You stated plainly, face twisted in confusion. While Jason had always refused to play along with your whole self-depreciating bit, he had never gotten so worked up over it. "That can't be all he said."

"I'm not saying the rest," Jason shook his head, clenching his jaw so tight you had to knot the hand that wasn't covering his fists in the hem of your shirt to keep from tracing the carved edge of it. "But it was... horrible stuff. And I would have beat the shit out of him, right here in the fields, except that new boy, Sammy, was watching all of it."

Any other day, you would have grinned and called out the Jason Grace for cursing and fighting, but the anguish in his voice was almost too much to bear. Clearly, he wasn't only mad about what Damien said about you, which was a relief.

You could fight your own battles. You didn't need the praetor doing that for you, no matter how pretty his smile was.

And you knew what he was worried about, too. Sammy was the camp's newest arrival, and the youngest they had seen in a while at only nine. You had seen him around, wobbling lips and watering, frantic eyes.

Sammy was scared, of camp, of the monsters he had already seen, of the big kids with big swords he saw at every turn.

You couldn't blame him. You had been the same way, too.

"He looked... so scared when I started yelling," Jason's voice shuddered, his face once more pinched in anger and anguish. "I didn't want him to be any more scared, and especially not of me. I'm his praetor, and I got worked up and scared him. He's going to think I'm some brute he can't trust, and—"

"I'll talk to him, later," You interrupted, because as much as you talked badly about yourself, you couldn't stand when Jason did the same. "Alright? I'll make sure he understands that Damien is a dickhead and you are the sweetest, smartest, safest fucking person in the world, who just happens to have a built in lightning show attached to his emotions."

Slowly, the remaining thunderstorm tapered out, until even the light drizzle disappeared and you were left with your golden boy under the rays of sun, just like the forecast had predicted.

Jason's shoulders briefly shook with a silent chuckle, the corners of his lips curling up the slightest bit as he turned to face you, eyes still rimmed with red but not quite as distant anymore.

"Maybe don't use those exact words. The kid's only nine." He teased, bumping his shoulder into yours and causing you to roll your eyes, a familiar and well-loved chain of events.

"I was worse when I was nine," You countered, taking his fist from his knee and pulling into your lap, eyes tracing the outline of his skin against yours.

"I can imagine," He fired back, voice quiet, distracted, as he watched you slowly ease his fist open, splaying his fingers and pressing your palms together, heels lined up, so you could see just how much larger his hand was than yours.

An old trick, but it made your face warm all the same.

"Fine," You hummed, studying how nicely his hand slotted against yours. "I'll tell him that you're the most dedicated praetor to exist—Reyna included, so she doesn't get mad at me. I'll tell him that you insist on checking my armor for me at the start of battle, even though I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself."

You sent him a pointed look, because you were capable of doing your own armor, but it was more a part of Jason's routine than any distrust of your skill, anymore.

"I'll tell him you walk me to my bunk each night to make sure no one is ever messing with me, even though the teasing comes after you leave." You made that comment just to watch him flush, finally threading your fingers through his. "And I'll tell him that your hands may summon lightning, but they are also kind and gentle and not meant only for hurting."

You turned to face him, but he was only watching how your hands fit together like they were always meant to, a conflicted look on his face. Lips slightly pursed, you had the sudden urge to kiss his pearly scar.

It was far from the first time you had dreamed of doing so, but never had you felt so close to saying fuck it and committing.

Instead, because you knew your self control hung on a thread, you leaned close to his ear, voice dropping and warm breath brushing against his damp skin.

"Besides, I think it's hot when you get all protective of me," You whispered, then blew a puff of air into his ear that had him flinching away from you, startled by the sensation.

Your head tilted back in a laugh so loud it would have carried all the way back to camp if Jason's winds had willed it. There was a flush on his cheeks, lips moving as he grumbled out complaints about you, none with any real heat, none that ever crossed any of the boundaries that protected your heart.

Still, you jumped to your feet and sprinted away from him, knowing his retaliation would be swift, imminent, and lethal. As expected, Jason stood, too, ready for the chase.

He was smiling, though. So you considered it a victory.

There had been some complaints, some valid arguments made, when you declared that you would be joining the party that would follow the Greek trireme.

"You won't be able to make the hard choice, when it comes to it," Rico had murmured, voice dropped low. Dakota wasn't stupid enough to say it to your face, but you knew he felt the same. Most of the legion did.

How could they not?

The hard choice in question involved killing Jason Grace, and you had yet to remove the key to his bunk room from around your neck, even as you readied your eagle for flight while Rico desperately tried to talk you out of it.

"Centurion, just listen to me, for a second!" He pleaded, your back to him. Takeoff was any minute now, you knew, and if you wasted time kicking Rico's ass for what he was suggesting about your Roman loyalties like you wanted to, you would miss it. Besides, you couldn’t even convince yourself where your Roman loyalties laid. "You don't have to do this to yourself—"

"Legionnaire," A commanding, familiar, and almost haunted voice called out to you. Reyna. "Leave us."

Rico nodded his head and left, and for a horrifying moment you thought that Reyna would tell you that she was ordering you to stay behind. That she bought into the fact that Jason had, of his own free will, left with the group that had destroyed the only home he ever knew, the one he knew held you.

And maybe he didn't exactly remember you, but you had to trust that his instincts ran deep. He would never hurt you.

"Rico has a point," Reyna stated, and the only thing tethering you to your body was the massive but you heard silently tacked onto the end of her sentence. "You and I both know what's at stake here. Beyond Jason Grace, beyond the borders of camp."

"Gaea is rising. And she won't care whether we're Roman or Greek when the killing starts." You confirmed. You hadn't stopped to let yourself think of anything other than the news of war the Greeks had brought. What it meant for you, for your chances of tracking down Juno and pummeling the shit out of her until she relented and gave you your Jason back.

It was a good distraction, you had to admit. And you trusted the Greeks, because Jason trusted them.

"Then I know you will do what is necessary when we find the trireme." Reyna nodded, and just as fast as she appeared she was gone, leaving you with more questions than answers and a heart made of lead.

Reyna's words echoed in your mind on a loop, all the way to Charleston.

And suddenly, you were standing in the harbor, searching through the chaos for Jason and the others, hoping against hope that after the Roman chariot had just collided with Jason midair that you would find him in one piece.

That you would find him.

Because you were certain no one else received Reyna's cryptic message.

You opted for a sword, because you always found it more useful during single combat than a lance. The moment you jumped off the back of your eagle, you had slipped from the group, knowing that you couldn't even convince Dakota that you were doing the right thing.

Fort Sumter was one hell of a piece of military history, and if you had cared much at all about American history you would have been jealous that Jason had already visited the site once before, instead of being jealous that Reyna had been the one to go with him.

But, standing on the paved walkway, your back to the trireme with Jason, Frank, and the Greek named Leo at your front, you were jealous of the screaming mortals, able to run away from the scene, guilt-free.

Jason was ten feet in front of you. The only time you had ever been on the opposite side of battle than him had been in drills. It hurt, far more than you would have thought, to have Jason hold his sword out and study you for weaknesses he should have already known about.

You favored your right side, moved your feet around too much. Dropped your elbows, too. He should have known about those factors, because he had been the one to point them out to you.

"'Morning," You called out, voice tight and knees locked, shoulders back and shield raised. And though Jason trusted him for reasons you were yet to understand, you couldn't help but pin your glare on Leo and snarl. "You blew up my city."

Children lived there. Families you knew and vowed to protect, who had humored your constant streams of questions about Jason's whereabouts and never, ever, made you feel like a monster.

You sure as hell felt like a monster, then, at the look on his face.

"If it helps, I didn't mean to," Leo called back. You barely remembered hearing him when he had spoken back in New Rome, but his tone was the same. Light, joking, not taking a damn thing seriously. Or maybe you didn't know him well enough to hear the strain in his voice.

"Maybe when I kill you, it will be an accident, too." Gods, it was like you were ten again. Making threats you didn't mean, hating people because people had always hated you.

How quickly had you reverted to the person you had been before, when Jason was no longer around to calm your temper.

"You don't mean that," Jason commented, though it sounded more so like a question than the truth that it was. "I don't know how I know, but I do."

You wanted to scream and swing your sword because Jason did know how he knew that. Years and years of following at your elbow, of teasing and conversations and comfort taught him when you were being serious and when you were bluffing.

"The killing me part or the accident part?" Leo asked, darting a glance to Jason as Frank looked like he wanted to be anywhere but beside him. "Because I'd like some clarification on which part she doesn't mean."

"We need to get to that ship," Jason ignored Leo, his stare locked on you so tightly you wanted him to close his eyes. "Please,"

"It's three against one," Leo glanced at his friends, confused, pulling a hammer from his tool belt you were beginning to realize was magic. "Frank doesn't even need to go elephant mode, and we're home free."

"Are you kidding me?" Frank glared at Leo. You could only watch the boys carefully, hands never wavering on your sword or shield as they decided on their plan of attack. You didn’t want to hurt any of them, but you would if they tried you. "You've never seen her fight. We'd be dead before I could even think of an animal to become."

"She's got powers?" Jason murmured, like the idea didn't sound right to him, but the possibility was still there. There was shouting in the distance, Romans trying to find where the three traitors standing before you had ended up.

"Skill," You clarified. And maybe your Mercury blessed speed might have counted for a power, but you would never wield it against him maliciously. You would never wield anything against him. "We've got about two and a half minutes before someone finds us, and I stop being so nice."

"Nice?" Leo questioned, darting another glance to Jason. "Bro, first Khione falls in love with you and tries to freeze you forever in her palace, then Medea wants to get me and you to kill each other because you've got the same name as her old boyfriend. Now, your old girlfriend thinks it's nice to threaten to murder me? Dude, what is it with you and scary girls?"

"Leo," Jason hissed through clenched teeth, and you knew he saw the hurt and shame and embarrassment crash over your face, but what you didn't know was if he knew what it all meant. "Shut up."

"Yeah, maybe I'll try that."

You didn't have it in you to see the humor in the situation.

"If you know me as well as Hazel claims, then you'll understand why I need to leave." Jason reasoned, taking a step towards you, and gods if you weren't trying your hardest to not be bitter.

How had you forgotten about Hazel? The sweet young girl who had been the only one on the trireme that had seen you and Jason together, and then your downfall after his disappearance. If he had wanted to ask about you, she had plenty to say, no doubt.

But Hazel had only ever seen the two of you from afar. She hadn't been privy to the ways you and Jason had seemingly shared a mind and soul.

"I know you better than anyone, Jase." Your voice was more ragged than it had been the last time you had spoken. Somehow the conversation and Jason's almost indifference had taken a physical toll on you. "Apparently, better than you know yourself."

"Look, I'm sorry for not remembering." He apologized, as if any of it was his fault. The wolves, the bullies, the monsters, and the wars. The gods that always needed his help for just one more thing, dangling the promise of a few months respite in front of his face like it was a reward instead of the norm.

Your lip curled in a snarl, then softened into a frown. Anger had always been easier than vulnerability for you, but never when it came to Jason.

"They will kill you if you're caught," You warned, because maybe he didn't remember that, either. Almost of its own accord, your sword lowered. "Then they'll kill me, for this."

You stepped to the side, nodding your head in the direction of the trireme in the near distance. Leo and Frank took off at a sprint past you, but Jason's pace was slower, stopping at your feet like he had never once feared the weapon in your hand.

No matter how many times you had pointed it at his throat during trainings.

"Thank you," His voice was sullen but strong, like he was upset it had come to such a point though he would never back down. Little soldier Jason, always doing what he must despite how he felt.

You wanted to berate him. To take his face between your hands and hold him until he remembered you, your touch, just how deeply you meant to him. It was embarrassing, really. How much Roman training did he manage to override in you, with only his stare and few words?

"Save the world for me," You ordered, deflecting. Giving directions to others was easy. You were a centurion, after all. But making yourself listen? That was a trick not even Jason had quite figured out, yet.

And now, maybe he never would have the chance to keep trying.

"Gods, I wish I remembered you." He muttered, voice almost pleading. The sound was like Aphrodite herself cracked open your chest and carved out your heart. You had half a mind to track down Juno that very moment. "When I get back, we'll figure this out."

When I get back.

Because he was still leaving you.

This time, at least, you would know where he was. But the Ancient Lands were forbidden from you. If something happened to him on such a wildly dangerous quest, you might break off to find him, sure, but you had no way of getting to him.

You might have known where he would be, but he was still just as removed from you as before.

"Do me a favor?" You tilted your chin up defiantly, the same way you always did whenever someone questioned you. Jason nodded, like the sweetheart he was, had always been, eager to help you with whatever you needed. "Don’t think about me any more than you have to."

Because you weren't naive enough to believe that his missing memories of you wouldn't be wildly distracting for him, especially after whatever Hazel shared, and you couldn't live with yourself if he got hurt on his quest.

"I can't just not—" Panic flooded his devastatingly handsome face, obscured only by a few scrapes that would heal in no time.

"Go," Interrupting, your gaze settled on the Fort behind him, shouts from your fellow Romans growing louder, closer. If he stayed, you would have no choice but to fight him when the others appeared.

You didn't give him the chance to argue, turning from him before he could hurt you more.

It was easy enough to fake your injuries, considering you already had real ones nobody knew about.

Your battered ribs were already a mess of bruised skin and you simply exaggerated the limp you had been sporting since the giant army attacked New Rome.

But then Octavian, Dakota, and Rico joined your cluster of Romans after the trireme fled into the open water. They were soaked from no doubt an unintentional swim in the harbor, and maybe you could have have been more convincing.

You were claiming you had tried stopping Jason, Frank, and Leo, but they simply got the better of you. Some of your party believed you. Most refused to comment.

Octavian, of course, refused to shut up.

"He should not have been able to get past you, Centurion!" The augur chastised, like anyone, anywhere, would have been able to stop a determined Jason Grace.

You had said it before, and would say it a thousand times again. The world should have been grateful Jason was not as cruel as his father.

"You let Percy get past you," You countered, chin raised and glaring. "And you weren't alone."

"How did you end up alone, searching for Jason?" Octavian purposed, taking at step closer to you. Somehow, with a control of yourself you had never felt before, you didn't draw your sword from the sheath at your waist and hold it to his throat. "Perhaps looking to follow him? We all know how much of that you did back at camp."

Reyna stepped forward, but so did you, each one of your muscles clenched tight and ready to snap.

"Perhaps no one followed me. I'm our best shot at getting to Jason, aren't I?" You tilted your head to the side, two inches at most, in an act so condescending Octavian turned purple. The implication was there, that he would never be able to capture Jason, because Jason couldn't stand him.

But you?

"Do you really think that’s the same Jason Grace that was in love with you?" Octavian sneered. "The Greeks have changed him for the worse. Whatever future you had planned for yourself with him is gone."

From the time you were a small child, you had lived in a perpetual state of anger. Sometimes, it was simmering low under the surface, barely seen through your smiles and loud laughter. Sometimes it showed itself in short bursts during battles or Senate meetings when other members got too mouthy.

And sometimes, your anger burned so hot you couldn't see straight.

The last time it happened, you had found out a stupid son of Mars named Mark had been harassing little Sammy.

Another, younger, camper had told you of the bullying one evening while you readied to meet Jason for dinner. You had calmly stopped what you were doing, exited the bunk house, and trekked all the way to the Mess Hall on your own.

You didn't even say a word to Mark as you tackled him to the ground, he on his back and you straddling him to lay punch after punch to his face.

You had expected to take him to the ground, but not so soon. Mark's inability to fight was suddenly made very clear, highlighted by the fact that he had been trying to harass a nine year old kid instead of someone in his own weight bracket.

You might have sent him to the infirmary unconscious, instead of on his own two feet, if Jason hadn't arrived. Sweeping in like the hero he was, pulling you off Mark and muttering promises to fix whatever had happened.

I've already fixed it, right Mark? You had spat at the dazed son of Mars, the entire Mess Hall watching in silence as Jason struggled to lead you away, untold violence almost a promise in your eyes. No more beating on children, 'cause it sucks to be the weaker one, huh?

To someone who didn't know what had just happened, you calling Mark the weaker one looked a little ridiculous. He was twice your size.

But you were twice Sammy's size. And you threw a punch a hell of a lot better.

You spent the night in the brig, had to dig trenches for a week, but Jason had held your chin in his hands and told you that he would have done the same if it were him, so it all evened out in the end.

Whatever future you had planned for yourself with him is gone.

Octavian had pushed you past your breaking point.

You launched forward, hands gripping the edges of his armor to pull him close so you could get in his face without him being able to get away. He tried, struggling to wriggle free and pull your hands off of him, but you held fast.

"If you ever talk to me that way again, I will gut you like one of your stuffed animals." You hissed a promise, fury contorting your face into something that had sent plenty of enemies running on the battlefield. "Let's see if you can read the auguries in your own entrails."

Octavian was spluttering out half-sentences, shocked by how lethal your voice sound, when Dakota and Rico managed to haul you away from the augur. Your friends each had an arm locked around yours, and you struggled to free yourself, anger and venom still dripping from your every movement.

"Let her go," Reyna ordered. At once, Dakota and Rico dropped you, and you wasted no time in pinning them both with glares. You knew they were only trying to help you, but you had felt so far beyond help, lately. "We need everyone for our next step."

She sounded tired, weary. You wondered if you were the only one who heard her.

"Next step?" You heard someone ask, and somehow the question seemed to take several years off of Reyna's life. You remembered how haunted she had looked when she spoke to you before leaving camp, and now you wondered if she knew it would come to this all along.

Because you had studied war strategies for years. You knew what came next before Reyna had the chance to say it.

"We go North. To Camp Half-Blood."

a/n: tried to do an anger parallel with them, but idk if it worked so well bc duh jason's not there to comfort reader at the end, like she was to him. they just get each other so well! also, if you asked me to be on the taglist, and ur not, plz let me know! I could have sworn somebody else asked but I cannot for the life of me find the notif

tag, you're it! @aezuria @tayswiftlovebot @bonnie-tz @folklorefantasies14 @sunshine-of-ur-life @irwinchester @bellamysnatblida @saph-nic @auroraofthesun1 @helloimamistake @maybxlle @p-rspective @lauptimist @dontstopxx @apollosfavkiddo @ebony-reine-vibes @poppysrin

#jason grace #jason grace fanfic #jason grace x you #jason grace fanfiction #jason grace x reader #jason grace x y/n #heroes of olympus #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #pjo

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yutopia-eleftheria · 2 months

Text

That's not my Neighbor Characters Informations

Floor 1 :

Roman Stilnsky :

ID Number : 483924059684

Apartment : F01-01

Apartment Phone # : 1152

Occupation : Public Accountant

Relations : Lois Stilnsky {Wife}

Age : 42

Birthday : May 24th 1913

Zodiac Sign : Gemini

Height : 6'3" (190 cm)

Weight : 194 lbs (88 kg)

Blood Type : O-

Origin : Russia

"Anthem" : Breaking The Habit by Linkin Park

Appearance :

LISTED :

Big Nose

Scar on Right Chin

Long Face

One Eyebrow

Wears a Hat

2. OTHERS :

Black Short Curly Hair

Light Green Eyes

Grey Suit and Hat

White Shirt

Red Necktie

Lois Stilnsky :

ID Number : 894569723651

Apartment : F01-01

Apartment Phone # : 1152

Occupation : Housewife

Relations : Roman Stilnsky {Husband}

Age : 38

Birthday : February 11th 1917

Zodiac Sign : Aquarius

Height : 5'2" (157 cm)

Weight : 198 lbs (90 kg)

Blood Type : O+

Origin : Bielorussia

"Anthem" : Trustfall by P!NK

Appearance :

LISTED :

Big Lips

Mole on Left Cheek

Round Face

Short Hair

2. OTHERS :

Purplish "Violine" Hair Covering her Eyes

Pink Dress and Hat

Round Silver Earrings and Necklace

Robertsky Peachman :

ID Number : 114652289730

Apartment : F01-02

Apartment Phone # : 2668

Occupation : Shoemaker

Relations : Albertsky Peachman {Older Brother}

Age : 36

Birthday : January 11th 1919

Zodiac Sign : Capricorn

Height : 6'7" (200cm)

Weight : 165 lbs (75 kg)

Blood Type : O+

Origin : United States

"Anthem" : Peaches by Justin Bieber ft. Daniel Caesar & Giveon

Appearance :

LISTED :

Long Neck

No Eyebrows

Big Nose

Has a Goatee

2. OTHERS :

Ginger Curly Hair

Yellow Coat

Blue Scarf

Albertsky Peachman :

ID Number : 146512986354

Apartment : F01-02

Apartment Phone # : 2668

Occupation : Shoemaker

Relations : Robertsky Peachman {Younger Brother}

Age : 44

Birthday : April 14th 1911

Zodiac Sign : Aries

Height : 5'8" (173 cm)

Weight : 183 lbs (83 kg)

Blood Type : AB-

Origin : United States

"Anthem" : My Name Is Stain by Shaka Ponk

Appearance :

LISTED :

Has a Moustache

Prominent Chin

Big Nose

Big Eyebrows

2. OTHERS :

Ginger Hair

Blue and White Shirt

Angus Ciprianni :

ID Number : 565003698845

Apartment : F01-03

Apartment Phone # : 5513

Occupation : Businessman

Relations : Unknown

Age : 33

Birthday : February 3rd 1922

Zodiac Sign : Aquarius

Height : 5'10" (178 cm)

Weight : 146 lbs (66 kg)

Blood Type : A+

Origin : Italy

"Anthem" : Risky Business by Jorge Blanco

Appearance :

LISTED :

Long Neck

Wears a Hat

Has a Moustache

Small Eyes

2. OTHERS :

Short Brown Hair

Purple Suit and Hat

White Shirt Collar

Red Necktie

Elenois Sverchzt :

ID Number : 845323014956

Apartment : F01-04

Apartment Phone # : 6996

Occupation : Model

Relations : Selenne Sverchzt {Twin Sister}

Age : 22

Birthday : March 1st 1933

Zodiac Sign : Pisces

Height : 6'2" (188 cm)

Weight : 106 lbs (48 kg)

Blood Type : B+

Origin : Germany

"Anthem" : Fancy by Iggy Azalea

Appearance :

LISTED :

Mole on Left Cheek

Small Pointed Nose

Slim

Long Neck

2. OTHERS :

Short Curly Hazel Hair

Yellow Dress, Orange Stripes

Ahoge Curl to the Right

Triangle Golden Earrings

Selenne Sverchzt :

ID Number : 785613269514

Apartment : F01-04

Apartment Phone # : 6996

Occupation : Model

Relations : Elenois Sverchzt {Twin Sister}

Age : 22

Birthday : March 1st 1933

Zodiac Sign : Pisces

Height : 6'2" (188 cm)

Weight : 106 lbs (48 kg)

Blood Type : B+

Origin : Germany

"Anthem" : FASHION by Britney Manson

Appearance :

LISTED :

Mole on Right Cheek

Small Pointed Nose

Slim

Long Neck

2. OTHERS :

Short Curly Hazel Hair

Orange Dress, Red Stripes

Ahoge Curl to the Left

Square Golden Earrings

Floor 2 :

Arnold Schmicht :

ID Number : 778566219322

Apartment : F02-01

Apartment Phone # : 5123

Occupation : Writer

Relations : Gloria Schmicht {Wife}

Age : 49

Birthday : October 21st 1906

Zodiac Sign : Libra

Height : 5'0" (152 cm)

Weight : 179 lbs (81 kg)

Blood Type : A-

Origin : Germany / Afro-American

"Anthem" : À La Faveur De L'Automne by Tété ft. Jérémy Frérot

Appearance :

LISTED :

Big Eyebrows

Prominent Mustache

Wears a Hat

Round Face

2. OTHERS :

Short Curly Dark Brown Hair

Green Suit and Hat

White Shirt

Red Necktie

Gloria Schmicht :

ID Number : 698522341150

Apartment : F02-01

Apartment Phone # : 5123

Occupation : Banker

Relations : Arnold Schmicht {Husband}

Age : 40

Birthday : August 22nd 1915

Zodiac Sign : Leo

Height : 5'1" (155 cm)

Weight : 218 lbs (99 kg)

Blood Type : O+

Origin : Hungary / Afro-American

"Anthem" : Money, Money, Money by ABBA

Appearance :

LISTED :

Round Face

Mole on Right Cheek

Short Hair

Round Nose

2. OTHERS :

Short Curly Dark Brown Hair

Yellow Eyes

Round Yellow Earrings

Purple Scarf

Izaack Gauss :

ID Number : 456985512369

Apartment : F02-02

Apartment Phone # : 7332

Occupation : Reporter

Relations : Unknown

Age : 39

Birthday : July 23rd 1916

Zodiac Sign : Leo

Height : 6'5" (196cm)

Weight : 209 lbs (95 kg)

Blood Type : A+

Origin : Germany / United States

"Anthem" : American Idiot by Green Day

Appearance :

LISTED :

Big Eyebrows

Big Smile

Prominent Chin

Big Nose

2. OTHERS :

Short Black Hair

Blue Eyes

Dark Grey Suit

White Shirt

Dull Blue Necktie

Margarette Bubbles :

ID Number : 103268014590

Apartment : F02-03

Apartment Phone # : 6431

Occupation : Seamstress

Relations : Unknown

Age : 56

Birthday : July 10th 1899

Zodiac Sign : Cancer

Height : 5'11" (180 cm)

Weight : 225 lbs (102 kg)

Blood Type : AB-

Origin : United States (Wisconsin)

"Anthem" : Bubbly by Colbie Caillat

Appearance :

LISTED :

Curly Hazel Hair

Deviated Left Eye

Round Nose

Big Smile

2. OTHERS :

Pearl Necklace

Yellow Dress, Orange Dots

Round Yellow Earrings

Nacha Mikaelys :

ID Number : 789653665413

Apartment : F02-04

Apartment Phone # : 1346

Occupation : Chef

Relations : Anastacha Mikaelys {Daughter}

Francis Mosses {Implied Ex}

Age : 29

Birthday : November 13th 1926

Zodiac Sign : Scorpio

Height : 5'3" (160 cm)

Weight : 121 lbs (55 kg)

Blood Type : A+

Origin : United States

"Anthem" : Careless by Neffex

Appearance :

LISTED :

Right Eye Blue

Left Eye Green

Curly Brown Hair

She has Freckles

Round Face

2. OTHERS :

Purple Hair Tie and Shirt with White Collar

Anastacha Mikaelys :

ID Number : 132698534462

Apartment : F02-04

Apartment Phone # : 1346

Occupation : Student

Relations : Nacha Mikaelys {Mother}

Francis Mosses {Implied Father}

Age : 13

Birthday : May 26th 1942

Zodiac Sign : Gemini

Height : 4'11" (150 cm)

Weight : 99 lbs (45 kg)

Blood Type : A-

Origin : United States

"Anthem" : Ma Chérie by Stéphane

Appearance :

LISTED :

Tired Eyes

Two Ponytails

Brown Hair

Small Nose

Round Face

2. OTHERS :

Purple and White School Uniform

Purple Hair Ties

Pink School Bag

Floor 3 :

Mia Stone :

ID Number : 789564525115

Apartment : F03-01

Apartment Phone # : 1425

Occupation : Teacher

Relations : Dr. W. Afton {Fiancé)

Age : 27

Birthday : September 15th 1928

Zodiac Sign : Virgo

Height : 5'6" (167 cm)

Weight : 132 lbs (60 kg)

Blood Type : A+

Origin : England

"Anthem" : Thank U, Next by Ariana Grande

Appearance :

LISTED :

Long Blonde Hair

Small Round Nose

She has Freckles

Oval Face

Thin Eyebrows

2. OTHERS :

Pearl Necklace

Round Silver Earrings

Pink Eye Make-Up

Red Shirt

Dr. W. Afton :

ID Number : 250489656214

Apartment : F03-01

Apartment Phone # : 1425

Occupation : Physicist

Relations : Mia Stone {Fiancée}

Age : 31

Birthday : June 25th 1926

Zodiac Sign : Cancer

Height : 5'5" (165 cm)

Weight : 150 lbs (68 kg)

Blood Type : A-

Origin : United States

"Anthem" : Valentine by Maneskin

Appearance :

LISTED :

Robust Eyebrows

Wears Grey Glasses

Short Blue Hair

Round Nose

Square Head

2. OTHERS :

Green Shirt with Many Pockets

White Shirt Collar

Red Necktie

Francis Mosses :

ID Number : 235569418995

Apartment : F03-02

Apartment Phone # : 4122

Occupation : Milkman

Relations : Nacha Mikaelys {Implied Ex}

Anastacha Mikaelys {Implied Daughter}

Age : 30

Birthday : April 23rd 1925

Zodiac Sign : Taurus

Height : 5'7" (170 cm)

Weight : 170 lbs (77 kg)

Blood Type : A+

Origin : United States (Pennsylvania)

"Anthem" : Strangers by Lewis Capaldi

Appearance :

LISTED :

Long Nose

Thin Chin

Tired Eyes

Short Brown Hair

Wears a White Hat

2. OTHERS :

White Shirt

Black Bowtie

Steven Rudboys :

ID Number : 565845455965

Apartment : F03-03

Apartment Phone # : 4242

Occupation : Pilot

Relations : Mclooy Rudboys {Father}

Age : 28

Birthday : November 24th 1927

Zodiac Sign : Sagittarius

Height : 6'1" (185 cm)

Weight : 205 lbs (93 kg)

Blood Type : B+

Origin : United States (Texas)

"Anthem" : Children Of The Sky by Imagine Dragons

Appearance :

LISTED :

Big Nose

Wears Grey Sunglasses

Short Brown Mohawk-Like Hair

Small Head

2. OTHERS :

Green Pilot Jacket with Badges

White Shirt

Military Necklace

Mclooy Rudboys :

ID Number : 964516184611

Apartment : F03-03

Apartment Phone # : 4242

Occupation : Retired

Relations : Steven Rudboys {Son}

Age : 71

Birthday : May 16th 1884

Zodiac Sign : Taurus

Height : 6'0" (183 cm)

Weight : 190 lbs (86 kg)

Blood Type : O+

Origin : United States (Texas)

"Anthem" : Shotgun by George Ezra

Appearance :

LISTED :

Has a Grey Moustache

Big Nose

Has a Grey Goatee

Smokes

ALWAYS Wears a Hat

2. OTHERS :

Grey Short Hair

Light Grey Shirt, White Sleeves

White Hat

Red Scarf

Alf Cappuccin :

ID Number : 120548096347

Apartment : F03-04

Apartment Phone # : 4258

Occupation : Lawyer

Relations : Rafttellyn Cappuccin {Wife}

Age : 64

Birthday : October 12th 1891

Zodiac Sign : Libra

Height : 4'7" (140 cm)

Weight : 161 lbs (73 kg)

Blood Type : A+

Origin : United States (New Jersey)

"Anthem" : Where The Streets Have No Name by U2

Appearance :

LISTED :

Big Nose

Prominent Grey Moustache

Use a Golden Monocle

Wears a Black Hat

Round Face

2. OTHERS :

Grey Sideburns Hairstyle

Black Suit with White Shirt Underneath

Red Bowtie

Rafttellyn Cappuccin :

ID Number : 568554596329

Apartment : F03-04

Apartment Phone # : 4258

Occupation : Housewife

Relations : Alf Cappuccin {Husband}

Age : 46

Birthday : September 29th 1909

Zodiac Sign : Scorpio

Height : 5'9" (175 cm)

Weight : 154 lbs (70 kg)

Blood Type : A+

Origin : Italy / United States

"Anthem" : Would I Lie To You by Texas

Appearance :

LISTED :

Long Face

Big Nose

Straight Bluish Purple Hair

Wears a Light Pink Headband

2. OTHERS :

Small Yellow Earrings

Pearl Necklace

Red and Green Dress with Flower Motif

Brown Leather Handbag

210 notes · View notes

the-lonely-crow · 5 months

Text

10 days till the magnus protocol

Everyone close your eyes and pretend i posted this while it was still the 9th ok I missed it by 20 minutes :((

[Image ID: digital portrait of jon sims from the magnus archives from around mid chest up. He has brown skin and dark curly long hair shot through with gray. He looks very tired. He has ten eyes across his face, three on his left cheek, four on the right side of his forehead, one on his right cheek and two in the more traditional center of the face placement. All the eyes are bright green. The two eyes in the normal place have deep bags under them and a black tear streaming from the right one. There is a cluster of three worm scars on his lower right cheek and a slash across his throat. They are all leaking the same black liquid coming from his eye. He is wearing a white dress shirt under a burnt-orange sweater. On the right side of his sweater there are two pins, one with the black-gray-white-purple asexual pride colors and the other with the pink-blue-purple bisexual pride colors. He wears a pendant necklace with a stylized eye in the center of it. There is an orange boarder with a Roman numeral 10 (X) at the top. /End ID]

#the magnus protocol #The magnus archives #tmagp #tma #jonathan sims #jon sims #crows-art

217 notes · View notes

ichorai · 9 months

Text

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

pairing ; roman roy x f!reader

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

words ; 10.9k

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

warnings / includes ; depictions of mental and physical abuse, mentions of death, a lot of sexual/suicidal jokes and general foul language, a lot of business talk, unprotected penetrative sex, roman’s implied demisexuality, dick pics and weddings

a/n ; and that's the end of s3!

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Roman had gotten into the habit of sending you pictures of his dick every now and then. Apparently, having sexual intercourse with Roman also entailed an afterparty consisting of dick pics and filthy messages. Not that you weren’t enjoying them, he really had a pretty cock—but you were growing increasingly paranoid that people, maybe hackers, maybe curious coworkers looking over your shoulder, were going to find out about the salacious pictures and texts he’d been sending you. And how bad would it look to have people find out your boss was sending you pictures of his penis?

Maybe it was his way of getting you to stay. Really, it just translated to: Hey, look at my dick! Remember this? We fucked, do you remember that? Do you like it? Please tell me you like it.

You found it strangely endearing, in a way. A lot of emphasis on strange.

And now, as you were just settling into the lovely, spacious room in Italy for Caroline’s wedding, your phone buzzed in your pocket.

Another dick pic. How lovely. You smiled down at your screen as you replied with:

looking great ro :)

A second later, you asked: you going down for welcome drinks?

Yup, he texted back. I’ll come by.

Not three minutes later, he swung your door open without bothering to knock, peeking his head through. He was dressed in rather casual attire for a wedding event—pale blue slacks, a white shirt, and an unbuttoned canary-hued top.

“You dressing down as a way to tell your mom you don’t approve?” you queried as you smoothed down your own pantsuit, a soft shade of purple over a cream turtleneck.

“Fuck you. You look great, by the way. Like a jizzed-up grape,” Roman snorted, linking your arm with his when you stepped out. “I need to talk to her about getting a prenup—this Munion character is a walking fucking sinkhole. Shiv is being an avoidant bitch about it.”

A hum fell from your lips as the two of you began making your way downstairs and out to the gardens, where the event was taking place. “Shiv’s always been more prickly when it comes to Caroline. It’s a warped mirror to her, you know?”

“She’s my mom, too. I get it,” Roman said with a shrug. He didn’t, not really.

The two of you spotted Caroline chatting with Peter, and you nudged Roman into their direction. After pleasant greetings were exchanged (well, less pleasant on Roman’s end), you excused yourself from the rather tense atmosphere to go walk around and grab a few drinks and bites of food. You knew Roman would be confronting Caroline on the prenup and his distaste for Peter, and you really didn’t want to be around for that hot mess.

Instead, you found yourself engaged in a lovely conversation with a pretty, raven-haired woman about the last book you’ve read, genuinely interested in what she had to say. The joy was short-lived, however, because Shiv stormed up to you, only barely apologizing to the woman before dragging you away.

“What? What’s going on?” you asked, incredulous.

“Check Matsson’s Twitter. Jesus. What the fuck is going on, do you know? Is this a move of some sort?”

Pulling out your phone, you quickly opened up his profile, reading the latest tweet.

Going to Macau. Feeling lucky.

You narrowed your eyes. Soon enough, Gerri and Roman appeared, the former looking apprehensive and the latter in more denial.

“It could be nothing,” Roman said, which made Shiv narrow her eyes. “Fucking social media fireworks.”

“He’s always been one to tweet bullshit when he’s high off his ass,” you tried to reason, reading the five words over again. “Remember that time he said he was going to release his sex tape? That blew over in a few days.”

Clearing her throat, Gerri argued back, “Well, yeah, it could be bullshit. Or it could be him trying to up his price.”

“Is he just rocking the boat or is he trying to blow up the deal?” Shiv asked.

From behind his wife, Tom chimed in, “Maybe he’s just going to Macau, and he just happens to feel lucky.”

Roman stepped away to leave Matsson a voice message, because none of his calls were going through. You sucked in a breath, wondering if you wasted an entire evening at Kendall’s disaster of a birthday party just for Matsson to fuck you over the ass.

God, you hated him.

After sending a few messages, Roman popped up beside you. “I don’t know, he’s a fucking trickster. It’s nothing.”

“Mmkay, so is he going to steal our watches and saw the fucking deal in half?” Shiv deadpanned.

“Hm. Maybe,” Roman reluctantly drawled.

A frown pinched her lips thin. “You’re supposed to be inside this, Roman.”

“I am inside this. Leave it. Why don’t you go find someone else’s dick to tug on? Oh, sorry Tom, didn’t see you there.”

They were bickering like children, as they often did. Tom blinked in mild confusion.

“Hey, okay, why don’t we get in contact with his PR team instead of him? They’re supposed to be working with us on this. None of this should be leaking onto personal accounts until the deal is met,” you calmly said. Gerri nodded, sending message after message to Karolina to get on their asses.

Though, it was far harder to stay calm when Kendall approached the group, face sullen, his phone held out to show Matsson’s twitter. To your surprise, his head was now shaven.

“Matsson going nut-nut, huh?” It was said as if it was supposed to be a joke, but his voice was monotonous, and his exterior cold. “Keep a hold of that shit, bro.”

“It’s all under control, motherfucker,” Roman hissed. “And where are you off to? Going to go score some junk in Naples?”

Kendall didn’t show any reaction to that. “No, just our mother throwing me out of her party.”

“Oh,” Roman replied. “Nice.”

“Where are my kids?” Kendall asked, before wandering off to go search for them.

Rolling his eyes, Rome snickered, “What a surprise—Ken doesn’t know where his kids are.”

“SEC is going to be all over this,” Gerri said, shaking her head.

“Ooh, gummy love bite from the fucking toddlers. I’m so scared,” Roman scoffed. “I think he likes us, I do. I can feel it in my gut.”

Pulling a sour face, you told him, “I really don’t think we should be banking the future of the company on your gut, Rome.”

It was then that Matsson tweeted again. This time, it was just three emojis: a game controller, crossed fingers, and an eggplant.

“He’s fucking us,” you muttered, which made Roman’s head jerk in your direction.

“Nah, come on. Don’t be so paranoid—we’re good. I think we’re good!” Roman insisted.

Brows raised, Shiv asserted, “Yeah, well if he blows this deal, then who is left for us, exactly?”

Before Roman could reply, you all caught sight of Logan making his way through the crowd, Marcia hanging off one arm and Kerry trailing behind the two of them.

“Jesus. He really doesn’t give a single, solitary fuck, does he?” snickered Roman, gaze following after his dad.

Caroline wove through to stand in front of you and Shiv, inviting the two of you to the bachelorette party. Shiv fumbled with protests, but Roman had insisted she went. When Caroline looked to you expectantly, you nodded your head and told her you’d be there, but not without a reluctant glance in Roman’s direction, who rubbed your back in an almost consoling manner.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be spying on you guys with a pair of binoculars,” he leaned forward to whisper.

“Not creepy at all, Roman. You sure know how to charm me.”

Nearly an hour later, the bachelorette party set off a little ways away from the hotel. There were drinks, there was gossip, and there was laughter. By nightfall, the party began to fizzle away, and you were more than ready to head back to the hotel. Find Roman and rope him into sleeping next to you, like he often did.

Though, as you descended down the stairs of the building the bachelorette party was occupying, you weren’t all that surprised to see Roman leaning against the bannister, a rogue smile on his lips.

“Have fun up there?”

“Mhm.” You kissed his cheek once, then another time for good measure. He smelled like limes and expensive cologne. You liked the limes more than the cologne.

“Not too much fun, I hope.”

You snorted. “Were you waiting for me here?”

“No, I just really like loitering around Italian streets at three in the morning.”

There was a warm sort of feeling simmering within your chest. “It’s only eleven o’clock, Roman.”

“Close enough.”

Roman rather liked the way your hair had gotten a little more tousled as the night passed on. You muffled a yawn, leaning against him as the two of you set off for the hotel.

“Matsson?” you asked tiredly, voice hoarse with overuse.

“He left me a message—said the tweets were just fucking around. You were right. As always. Lawyers gave him the spooks—he’s flying back to Switzerland.”

You hummed again, pleased. “Good. You did good, Roman.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you told him, soft. “And what about your dad? How’s he taking it?”

“Gerri says Dad thinks Matsson is trying to fuck him. I don’t know. He’s just gotta ride it out,” Roman said, shrugging. “They want me to go save the deal. Go see him.”

“You’re leaving me alone in Italy?” you crooned, laughing slightly.

Without hesitation, Roman offered, “Come with me. Can get you away from Mumsie and her nosy little fingers.”

You pulled a wince. “Mmh, no thanks. Didn’t like the way Matsson eye-fucked me the entire time I sat near him at Kendall’s party. Don’t want a repeat of him getting distracted.”

“Good to know I didn’t just imagine that,” Roman murmured. His head drooped, hair dropping over his forehead.

There was a moment of silence, interrupted only by a few people passing by, cheering in broken Italian. Drunk party guests, you assumed.

“What’re you thinking? Like—is Matsson… is he good for us?”

“No,” you said, much quicker than Roman had expected. “I don’t like him. He’s a flight risk. But he’s big—it would be a huge fucking deal acquiring GoJo. As in, change the company fundamentally, kind of a big deal. Could be good for the company in the long run, maybe. I don’t see us working well with Matsson, though.”

Roman studied your side profile, eyes roaming the bridge of your nose, your drooping eyelids, your parted lips. It was dark, but the moon’s glow seemed to light up the most beautiful parts of you. Or maybe it was just the Italian air.

“Well, I guess we’re just gonna have to see.”

“Yeah.” You yawned again.

“Okay, yeah, come on, sleepy. I don’t have the arm strength to carry you there.”

Matsson wanted a merger of equals. You should’ve guessed, with how he was talking at Kendall’s party, not wanting another man’s shadow looming over him. And… asking about Logan’s death.

“I hate that guy,” you mumbled to Roman as the two of you walked to the meeting room, where Logan had called for everyone to assemble. “The nerve of him…”

“I think it’s off the table but… Gerri’s pressuring me to push the deal forward. I’m already so stressed I’m jerking dust.” He rolled his shoulders and frowned. “Think Dad’s gonna eat it?”

You spared him an unsure glance. “I mean, what other choice does he have?”

With a heavy sigh, Roman swung open the glass door and the two of you filed into the meeting room. Logan waved for you to take a seat. Around the table was Gerri, Kerry, Shiv, and Tom—Karl and Frank were on call, displayed on a big screen TV. You sank down beside Gerri, with Roman across the table from you.

“Now, before we get the whole circus here, I wanna get a sense of what’s going on,” Logan announced. “Is he a Twitter panty-flasher? Or is he a serious person?”

“Uh, well, he is a serious person,” Roman said, which earned him a disbelieving scoff from Shiv. “But, Dad, he thinks there’s value that hasn’t been priced in yet. He’s gunning for a merger of equals. So I guess that kills it, right?”

“What? A merger of equals?” Shiv parroted, staring at her brother as if he’d grown a second head.

“Well, yeah. He’s got, like, twelve of the prime Asian sports leagues under GoJo’s belt, and he’s gonna fold it all into the platform. Live sports, games, betting—it’s a fucking growth bomb.”

Narrowing her eyes, Shiv hesitantly broached, “Okay, but… fifty-fifty board, all stocks? Dad, what, splits control?”

“Yes, Siobhan,” Roman exasperatedly said. “That’s what he wants.”

Everyone looked to Logan, who was silent for a few moments. There was a contemplative look to his gaze.

“But the guy isn’t a fuckhead?” he asked Roman.

“Oh, no. The tweeting was a move.”

Logan leaned forward, resting his large hands on the table. “He’s not some big baby who shits for clicks?”

“No, Dad. He’s, uh, he’s—I know people, Dad. I’m a fucking people sniffer.”

Shiv was glaring at her brother, and you pursed your lips.

“Because I can win any round with a boxer fuck, but I don’t know how to knock out a clown,” Logan deadpanned.

“He’s not a clown, he’s a tough motherfucker,” Roman insisted. “It’s what you would’ve done, right? He just maximized his leverage.”

Still not happy with the whole ordeal, Shiv shook her head. “Yeah, but merger of equals? That sounds ridiculous!”

“No such thing,” Logan gruffed.

Tom, by his right, nodded in agreement. “Always a top dog.”

“Family stake will be seriously diluted,” Karl warned, his voice crackling on the call.

“Could be just an on-paper thing,” you added. “Real control rests on the family if we negotiate who gets board seats.”

“Yeah. We could still be the puppy-fuckers here,” said Roman. “I think Matsson would let us craft it so that we keep balance of the board. He just wants the freedom and the status. GoJo Royco, I mean, who gives a fuck? Let him have the logo, we take the wheel.”

Sensing her father was being swayed, Shiv finally caved. “I mean, it would be real-scale. It’s a legitimate way of staying relevant.”

Frank and Karl weren’t happy, seeing as a merger of equals would threaten their positions with newer, better replacements. You almost laughed upon seeing Frank’s pixelated, unsure features.

“Dad and Gerri, you guys would stay with your hands on the tiller. Their price rise is real! It’s a proper fucking streamer. Would save that sector of Waystar completely. The future is really boiled down to: movies, TV, music, games, sports, eSports, VR, AR, betting—fucking everything for everyone, and Matsson can get us there,” Roman argued.

With a slight dip of his head, Logan said, “We can’t afford to walk away now. This is our crutch. Must be worth a conversation, son. Call in the team. Let’s get the banker fucks on this.”

Roman grinned victoriously, his eyes meeting yours.

You smiled back, pulling out your phone to shoot him a text.

you’re a fucking champ rome

The GoJo bankers began to file in, and you put your phone away. Roman’s buzzed on the table, and he glanced down at the screen, beam unwavering. He shot you a sly look, before tapping his keyboard a few times, deciding now was a good time to send you the picture of his hard dick he’d taken early in the morning, while you were still asleep.

dinner to celebrate? eat this, fuckface

He watched you expectantly, but you were busy greeting one of the bankers, shaking her hand. And then, his father’s phone buzzed. Logan slid on his reading glasses, clicking on the new text notification from his son.

Dread sank down to the pits of his stomach once he realized what he’d done.

Oh, fuck.

Logan stared angrily at his son, who sunk further down on his chair. You were still chatting to the banker, but halted the conversation when Logan suddenly stood up.

“I need five,” he said.

And with that, he was gone. That was the quickest you’d seen him walk in a long time.

Shiv shot you and Roman a confused look, before following after him.

You excused yourself, too, rounding the table to put a hand on Roman’s shoulder. To your confusion, he seemed to jerk away from your touch.

“Hey, what—? Rome, what’s going on?”

He sucked in a breath, letting you pull him out of the meeting room. The two of you stood in the hallway, just a few feet away from the conference room Shiv and Logan had disappeared into.

“I maybe might have sent Dad a, uh, a picture of my dick,” Roman nervously said, scratching at the back of his head. His arms seemed to shake.

“Oh,” you replied, far too stunned to say anything else. “Were you… was it for…”

“Yeah. It was for you. Fuck.”

The two of you stared at each other.

“Will he… oh, Rome. Fuck.” You didn’t know what else to say. Logan wouldn’t hurt Roman with GoJo right in the next room, right?

But you weren’t so sure.

Inside the conference room, Shiv winced to her dad whilst handing his phone back, “Yeah, he sent you his dick by mistake.”

“Well, that was pretty obvious.”

“It was meant for Y/N,” she said. “He calls her fuck-face all the time.”

Logan’s brows furrowed. “Y/N?”

“Yeah, they’re… they’re weird with each other. Everyone knows. Frankly, I think it’s fucking disgusting.”

“Yeah? They fucking?”

Shiv spluttered for words. “I don’t really—I don’t—I mean—” She shook her head. “Regardless, this… this is grounds for a potential lawsuit. Boss sexually harassing his employee kind of situation.”

Logan took his glasses off. “Isn’t this Roman just being Roman? They’ve been good pals since babies.”

Shiv chose her words carefully. “No. No, Dad, I think this could be a potential problem. This could be bad for us, you know. Y/N could use this as blackmail if she wanted to. And Roman, he’s… he’s a loose canon. People say he used to get jerked off by his personal trainer.”

It was then that Logan bellowed Roman’s name so loud, the very walls seemed to shake. Roman flinched, and you gently patted his arms, urging him to go.

“Put in a good word for you,” Shiv told her twin as he hurried in.

Roman twisted his hands nervously, only barely managing to catch the phone that Logan angrily slid over.

“Are you a sicko?” Logan asked, voice harsh. “What is this? Why do you send them?”

“Jesus, Dad…” Roman sucked in a breath. “It’s just—you know, we’re… it’s like, here’s my dick, or whatever.”

His brows cinched. “What? Like a ‘fuck you’?”

“No, it’s just… people send each other pics of their dicks. It’s no big deal.”

“No big deal?”

“Yeah, it’s fucking normal. You ever heard of dick pics, Dad?”

Rolling his eyes, Logan retorted, “Well we do publish a number of popular newspapers, so yes, son. We probably invented the fucking words. But why?”

Roman’s mouth opened and closed. He shrugged. “I don’t know, Dad. It’s just something people do.”

“You have a problem, son?” Logan asked, watching Roman like a hawk would its prey. “What happened to that nice piece of tail you were with?”

“Uh, Tabitha? Yeah, she’s… she’s not really in the picture anymore. We had a few issues.”

Logan frowned. “She wasn’t messy. Y/N is messy. She’s a good girl, don’t get me wrong, but she’s messy.”

“Well, uh…” Roman shrank under his father’s glare. “I like her.”

“Oh, you like her? Fucking solves everything, doesn’t it? It’s one thing for you two to be plastered all over gossip tabloids. It’s another thing entirely for it to be real. And I don’t like things going on that I don’t know about.”

It didn’t go past Logan’s notice when Roman’s voice cracked a bit. “It’s all fine. Nothing’s going to happen. We’re… we’re friends.”

A terse second of silence. Roman worked a hand over his jaw.

“Go on. Fuck off.”

Roman made his way to the door. “So, what’s… what’s going to happen?”

“You end it. Or you fire her. Whichever is easier for you, son.”

A pained look crossed Roman’s features. “Well, uh, I’m not a radical feminist or anything, but I think, maybe, we shouldn’t fire her for getting pictures of my dick?”

“Then you end it.”

Roman cleared his throat. He lingered by the doorway as if he had something else to say, but he eventually turned on his heel and left the room.

Meanwhile, Shiv had beckoned you out of the hall to sit in a different room, her expression contorted into one of false security.

“What’d he say?” you asked her. “Is he… did he get a—?”

“Yeah. Roman’s dick. Real classy,” she replied, before beckoning you out of the hall to sit in a different room. “So… I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

You tilted your head. “Uh, yeah. It’s fine, Shiv, really.”

“Uh-huh. Has this kind of thing happened before?”

You studied her, eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. Can’t really remember.”

“Right, yeah, of course. But if it did… did you ask him to stop?”

Fed up, you held your hands out. “Listen, Shiv, I’m not going to give a statement to you. I wouldn’t jeopardize Roman or the company like that.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like you were welcoming these, right? Because that would be… an abuse of power on Roman’s end, wouldn’t it?”

You drew yourself back. “Roman and I are friends. Nothing happened.”

“Okay. Yeah, sure. Things are just really delicate right now. Can’t afford to fuck up, right? Do you want to make a formal complaint about this situation? You’re the victim here, Y/N.”

“Woah, uhm… can I have some time to think about it?”

Humming, Shiv nodded. “Of course. Just know that… you should really report this to HR. It’s a big deal, this.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Shiv.” You hesitantly turned away, biting down on the inside of your cheek anxiously. You stood out of the meeting room for a second, trying to compose yourself. Plastering on a professional smile, you swung the door open and stepped inside.

Late that night, long after the meeting had ended, Roman slipped into your room, making sure nobody was around to see.

He kissed you then, fingers cradling your face as if he was expecting you would crumble away right in front of him. When you pulled away, hands lightly pushing at his chest, he mumbled that he needed this.

And so you let him pull you apart. Kissing you, touching you, holding you.

Your clothes were gone at some point—you hadn’t even registered taking them off, and he guided you over his lap. You rode him then, slow and steady, his hands roaming over your sides. Your foreheads were touching, the both of your moans muffled into kisses.

It was much more intimate than the last time the two of you had sex—Roman shook beneath the pads of your fingers, rife with fear. Sex was fine, but intimacy… that scared him more than anything. But he felt safe with you. It felt right with you.

And, this time it didn’t feel like Roman had a point to prove.

He came first, his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, teeth sinking into the flesh of your breast, panting wetly against your skin. You were close to follow, shuddering against him, your hips slowly rocking to a grinding halt.

You left to clean yourself up a minute later, and came back to Roman sprawled over the bed, half-asleep.

You laid down beside him and brushed the hair away from his forehead.

“Dad told me to fire you,” he mumbled, almost slurring his words. “If I didn’t want to break up with you, that is.”

“Break up?” you echoed. “But we aren’t together.”

“Right. Sure, yeah.” He sounded hurt, but he wrapped his arms around you, nonetheless.

With no hesitation, you curled your leg up over his. “You gonna fire me, Romey?”

“No. You’re the only thing that makes sense in this fucking shitstorm.”

“Okay.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead. You were never really worried on that end. “Then I guess we’ll just have to be less… open and affectionate in public. It’ll blow over eventually. We’ll fade away, and nobody’s going to care.”

Roman squeezed his eyes shut. “Okay.”

The two of you fell asleep like that, entangled in each other, dreaming of tooth necklaces and strawberry popsicles.

The next morning, you heard from Shiv that Kendall had nearly drowned himself in the pool while everybody was at the meeting, and he’d stayed over at the hospital overnight. At your worried expression, she reassured you that he was fine. One too many limoncellos, apparently.

To make matters all the worse, GoJo’s market cap had overtaken Waystar’s, and they were apparently also considering other options. Roman and Logan were off to go see Matsson to make sure he wasn’t pulling the plug. You mumbled a low good luck to Roman, not wanting to do or say anything else with his father watching the two of you like a vulture.

Hours later, when he returned, there was a slightly panicked look to his eye. He pulled you into the gardens, where it was mostly empty, save for an elderly Italian couple sniffing the roses a good distance away from you.

“No more merger of equals,” Roman hurriedly whispered to you, which made your eyes widen. “Matsson insinuated that GoJo eats Waystar—and he stays top dog.”

Your brows cinched. “What did your dad say?”

“Nothing. Told me to leave. But Matsson said he’d go with a handsome settlement.” The distress was clear across his features. “And where does that leave us? Fucking—kicked out to the curb with bread crumbs and cardboard boxes.”

“Jesus,” you breathed out. “Well… did he offer you an out?”

Roman ran a hand through his hair. “No. Just—just don’t tell Shiv, okay? We’ll stick to the merger of equals story.”

“Okay.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing in what you hoped to be a comforting fashion. “C’mon. It’s time to face Mr. Poseidon. Shiv and Con are already waiting.”

“Poseidon, huh? And who does that make me? Hades?”

You arched a brow. “Hermes. Duh.”

The two of you made your way out of the gardens, to the fancy little tables Caroline had set up. Shiv and Connor were sitting near the balcony, bearing a particularly breathtaking view of the Italian countryside. Rolling green fields and slanted, multi-hued rooftops. It wasn’t too bad of a place to get hitched, you wistfully thought, shooting Roman a glance. If Shiv had noticed anything between the two of you, she didn’t say anything. To that, you were grateful.

He was explaining the merger of equals situation to his siblings (save Kendall, who still had yet to appear), and Connor grew angry with the fact that he wasn’t informed. He didn’t like Matsson, but for a wildly different reason than you.

“Okay, well, if you guys don’t mind, I’m a little churned up about my big brother trying to kill himself, so I can’t really think about that shit right now, thanks.” Roman made a high-pitched noise, before leaning forward and snatching a piece of garlic bread off of Connor’s plate. “I’m fucking starving. Can we get some more food here?”

“It’s a buffet, you dipshit,” Shiv told him.

Before Roman could get up to grab food, Kendall turned the corner, stiffly making his way to his siblings, and you. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of expensive, brown-tinted sunglasses, doing a great job of hiding the bags beneath his eyes. He hadn’t slept a wink at the hospital.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hello,” Roman chirpily greeted. Only Roman could somehow make the word hello sound sarcastic.

Kendall’s hands twitched at his sides. “So, what is this?”

“Take a seat,” Shiv said, and Connor patted the head of the empty chair beside him.

Kendall scoffed, but sat nonetheless.

“So,” Shiv started, looking awfully uncomfortable being somewhat emotionally open with her brother, “we just wanted to get together and let you know that… we love you.”

A soft breath, and a tilt of his head. “What?”

Connor nodded. “I love you straight up.”

“We care about you, Ken,” you added, feeling mildly guilty that the last time the two of you spoke, you were yelling at him about something as stupid as a popsicle.

“I suppose I don’t want you to die,” Roman lamented, pouring himself a glass of wine.

“What is this, guys? What’s the angle?” Kendall asked.

In a placating tone, Connor said, “No angle. We were just worried that you… consciously or subconsciously tried to… you know…”

“Are you trying to shut me down?” gruffed Kendall.

“Uhm, you kind of tried to kill yourself, dude, and that’s not cool?” Roman inputted, avoiding eye contact.

“I fell off an inflatable.”

Clearing your throat, you gently said, “You were drunk. And your kids were there. Comfrey had to fish you out. I heard that Soph was crying behind the rose bushes, Kendall.”

At his daughter’s name, Kendall’s face seemed to twist with an unmistakable sort of anguish. “Is this a fucking intervention? Why do you guys get to do an intervention on me?”

“Seriously?” Roman asked.

“No, well, maybe you need an intervention.” He gestured to Shiv. “You need an intervention, Con. You two need one, too.”

“Yeah, totally, but, like—you’re kind of the top of the pile, right now. We can do me tomorrow, yeah?” Roman said.

Shiv pursed her lips in agreement. “Suicides kind of jump the line.”

“I fell off my fucking floatie!”

“You’re an addict,” Shiv stated plainly. “You’re addicted to booze and to drugs and relationships and sex and work and family drama.”

The siblings decided to argue a bit more, until Connor, fed up, exclaimed that he was the eldest son, and that he loved all of you, and he’d proposed to Willa and nobody even bothered to congratulate him. Your face fell with guilt, but you didn’t try to stop him as he stormed away. The conversation died out after that, with Roman complaining that he was too hungry to think straight, leaving for the buffet table, and Kendall straight up leaving without even saying goodbye.

Not wanting to be left alone with Shiv, you shot Roman a message saying you’d be in your room, and left the table.

The wedding started two hours later. You’d managed to squeeze in a nice nap and a quick shower before, meeting Roman at the lobby with a refreshed smile.

“You look great,” he told you, genuine. His hands seemed to reach out for you, but he winced and pulled himself back. “Now that we’re not supposed to be all over each other, I suddenly have this inexplicable, caveman urge to raw dog you in front of everyone.”

Your lips twitched in amusement. “You are so romantic, Roman.” Careful not to draw attention, you bumped your hip into his, and the two of you began walking to Caroline’s wedding.

Shiv met you at the entrance, pestering Roman on where Logan was (which he clearly didn’t know himself), and also making several incessant japes about Roman’s lost chance to marry his mother. A part of you wondered if she was amping it up because you were there, as if to try to goad a reaction out of you.

“Well, I’m just worried about the prenup,” Roman hotly defended after Shiv made fun of him for not liking Peter Munion.

“She has a prenup, Rome,” Shiv said while rolling her eyes. “She had her lawyer look at it because she wants to keep the London flat Dad gave her.”

“What if he poisons her? Or pushes her down the stairs to get this flat he so desires?” Roman quipped, crossing his arms.

Shiv snorted. “Oh, yeah. And what if worse—he fucks her with his dick. Fucks her so good that she dies?”

A group of giggling children passed by, and you muttered a quiet apology to the parents glaring at the three of you.

“We should get going,” you told the twins. “Must be starting any minute now.”

They halted their quarreling for the time being, and followed you into the building.

The ceremony was delayed around half an hour—you suspected it was because Logan hadn’t shown up, and Peter Munion sure wanted to brown-nose some more—but it carried on without him. You wondered if Logan wasn’t here because of what Roman had told you.

GoJo eating Waystar. That would make headlines for a good few months.

After the ceremony came a lovely little banquet, decked with long white tables lined with sweet-smelling flowers, beautiful flutes of champagne and wine passed around. Waiters flitted to and fro like busy worker bees, serving up course after course. There were seventeen dishes total, you counted. Roman said there were actually eighteen—you missed one when you briefly disappeared for the bathroom.

“You don’t have a fucking clue where Dad is, do you?” Shiv prodded at Roman’s shoulder, and he shrugged her off.

“Just relax, will you?”

Connor came up to the three of you then, a wary smile on his face. You and Shiv took turns apologizing to him, wearing guilty expressions. He’d always had soft spots for the both of you.

“No, no, it’s okay. Forget about it.”

“Mhm,” Roman said. “Forgotten.”

“So, guess who’s getting married to the greatest gal in the world?” Connor announced, a wide smile overtaking his features.

You grinned, congratulating him with a hug, Shiv and Roman slapping their older brother on the shoulder. When you pulled away, Connor pulled up a shriveled little brown bulb out of his pocket.

“Oh, ew. What is that?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“It’s a dried penis from one of the great men in history, correct?” Roman postulated, poking it before wiping his hands onto you.

Pointing at it, Connor said, “This is maca root. It’s for Dad’s smoothie.”

“Mhm?” Shiv asked, not quite getting it.

“He’s working on his baby batter!” Connor reiterated. “Maca root, almond butter! Dad’s putting together a more adhesive, potent gloop.”

“Ew,” you said, grimacing. “He’s eighty fucking years old. The baby practically pre-ordered the daddy issues themself.”

Utterly confused, Roman asked, “Are you fucking with us right now? That’s disgusting!”

“No, I’m not! Look at all the walnuts he’s been munching! He’s gonna be rocking sperms like a little catfish.”

“Oh, my fuck. Dad’s scrambling the fighters,” Roman guffawed, batting away Connor’s hand when he waved the maca root closer to his nose.

With a final laugh, Connor clapped Shiv’s shoulder, before bidding adieu, in search of his now-fiance.

“We gotta find a way to kill this baby,” Roman muttered.

“Yeah, finally you’ve got a worthy adversary,” laughed Shiv.

It was then that Tom made his way to the three of you, his arm curled over her waist. You eyed the fluid motion, wishing you could have something of an open relationship like theirs. Though, you weren’t sure comparing yourself to Tom and Shiv was the best way to go.

Tom let it slip that they were planning on having a baby, too—but by freezing an embryo.

“Congratulations,” you told the two of them, though Shiv didn’t look all that happy.

Roman chortled and made a few jokes about how Tom would have to poop out his own baby, and you nudged him harshly.

“That’ll be your niece or nephew, you know. Just don’t be that weird, creepy uncle they avoid at family gatherings.”

“Can’t make any promises,” Roman whistled, though he fell silent when Gerri strode up to the three of you.

It was just as you thought. She’d heard Logan and Matsson were meeting with financiers—which meant Logan was going through with the flipped deal. GoJo swallows Waystar, Logan leaves with his pockets full, and everybody aboard the sinking ship is left to fend for themselves.

“Why would Matsson need financing for an all-stock deal?” Shiv asked, though she was beginning to get an inkling of what was truly happening on her own.

Gerri suggested splitting up to cover more ground. Roman would get Kerry, Shiv handled Marcia, Gerri tackled Frank, and you were left to call in a few of Roman’s lawyers to see if they could rifle through anything that could block Logan from plowing into GoJo full-steam.

“I think Frank and Karl are in Europe,” Roman told Shiv, his phone pressed to his ear. “It’s got the fucking Euro ring.”

“What?” Shiv demanded. “Rome—are we being fucked right now?”

Roman hung up once Karl lied straight through his teeth that he was in America. Just before, he’d seen Gerri and Kerry speaking to each other in hushed tones, before Gerri quickly walked away. Was Gerri knifing him, too?

He turned to stare at you, speaking to his lawyers on the phone about voting power for the next CEO.

“Okay, well, I should probably tell you,” Roman said, scratching at the back of his head. “Matsson did float, just as an idea, that maybe they’d buy us.”

There was a momentary pause. Shiv’s eyes flared wider, her lips pinching tight. “Right. And what did Dad say?”

Roman shrugged. “Fuck off!” he said, in his best Logan imitation.

“Mhm. And he stuck around?”

“Yeah. Yeah, he did.”

Abruptly, Shiv shoved him so hard that Roman stumbled back into a table. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me this earlier?” She stomped off then, making her way to Kendall, moping by the edges of the gardens.

You hung up the phone, walking back to Roman. “Dead ends. They’re going to have to look through fucking everything—signing heir contracts, settlement conditions, the divorce clauses. Might be something there that gives the three of you a hand on the steering wheel.”

“Great.” Roman sucked at his teeth, hesitant. “Hey, as it turns out, I don’t think I can trust Gerri.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, and—I can trust you, right?” He scuffed the grass with the heel of his expensive boot, anxious.

The two of you stared at each other for a long moment. Man and woman, microphone and stand, dog and chew toy. You ran your tongue along the back of your teeth.

“I love you, Roman. You know that,” you told him, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Okay. Yeah, okay. Yeah. I trust you.”

“Hurry the fuck up!” Shiv yelled, startling the two of you away from each other. She began making her way around the building, towards the deserted back, where nobody was around to hear what the four of you were discussing. Slow on her heels was Kendall, dragging his feet along glumly.

You and Roman were only barely able to exchange comforting glances, before hastening after her.

“Okay, so—Dad is doing us dirty, right?” Shiv said, a tad too loud for your comfort, seeing as there were wedding guests only around the corner.

“Can you not make it a whole thing?” Roman protested, nose wrinkling. “We actually don’t—we don’t know anything yet. Matsson pitched to Dad the idea of them eating us, but I think he was just flying a kite.”

“Financing wouldn’t be there if it was just Matsson jerking off. Karl and Frank wouldn’t have bothered unless it was real. You know that, Roman,” you said.

The man merely raised his tense shoulders, kicking at a rock on the sandy ground. “Dad kind of shut it down,” he replied.

“He kind of shut it down?” pressed Shiv. “A moment ago, you were telling me that he told you to fuck off!”

Frowning, Roman told his sister, “Well, I didn’t keep track of the exact number of expletives he used, Siobhan. Okay? I’m not a fuckometer.”

There was a crackling silence for a few seconds. Kendall wasn’t facing the three of you, opting to stare away into the distance, hands propped on his hips.

“Our market caps have tipped,” Shiv vehemently put forth. “The local town’s been bought out by a new set of advisors. Something has flipped!”

It was clear that Roman was the only one still clinging onto his father’s leg. He watched you and Shiv with scrutinizing eyes. “Dad would never sell, would he? Hey, asshole, Dad would never sell, right?” Roman directed the question to Kendall.

Kendall’s shoulders moved just a tiny bit, barely a twitch. “I don’t know,” he muttered.

“I see him doing it if the buy-out settlement is large enough,” you said, expression grim. “A handful of billions in his pocket, and he’d walk off satisfied.”

“But Dad… he…” Roman itched at the back of his head. “What about us?”

“Okay, yeah, the question is—would we get fucking protection?” Shiv demanded, as if the three of you had answers to give her.

Kendall looked up at the bright Italian sun. He was feeling thirsty.

“Can you guys just do this without me?” he asked, voice dejected. “I can’t—I don’t really wanna get into it.”

Narrowing her eyes in suspicion, Shiv hurled out an accusation, “Wait a minute, Ken. Do you—you have an angle on this? Are you speaking with Matsson?”

Kendall laughed. He paused for a second, thinking on Shiv’s words some more, before laughing again. Then, he sank to the sandy ground. There were sharp rocks poking his legs, a fine layer of dust coating his ass and the back of his thighs.

“Is he okay?” you whispered to Roman, who just shook his head and murmured something you couldn’t quite catch under his breath.

“Ken, can we just talk?” Shiv asked.

“Shiv, I’m not here,” he said. His knees pulled up to his chest, and his head rested upon them.

He wasn’t okay, that was plainly clear. Tentative, you took a step forward, exchanging uneasy glances with Shiv. The redhead crouched down and soothed a comforting hand over her older brother’s back. You kneeled in front of Kendall, uncaring of how dirty you were getting your pants. Lingering a little farther back was Roman, stressed out of his mind, studying the three of you contemplatively.

“Hey, you okay?” Her voice was far more soft this time around.

Kendall shook his head, a heavy exhale slipping past his slightly-chapped lips. The familiar sting of salt welcomed the corners of his eyes.

“Talk to us, Ken,” you said, your shoe nudging his.

His mouth trembled. “There’s something really wrong with me. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me.”

“Uh, well… it’s okay, Ken…” Unsure, Shiv looked up to you.

“I just—I’m not feeling very connected to my children or my endeavors right now. And, uh, I can’t get one thing right with another, you know?” His voice broke near the end. A warble, a shake, a lilt.

Roman stepped closer. To anyone who didn’t quite know him, he looked as if he was angry. But you knew—you knew that that was concern splayed across his features. He was worried for his big brother.

“Kendall, we can get you help,” you tried to reassuringly say.

“But I can’t,” he replied, on the verge of tears. “I don’t know what happened. I tried to do something. I tried, I really did. Really.”

For better or worse, Roman attempted to diffuse the tension by saying, “I know, man. You fucked it.”

You and Shiv glared at him, while Kendall merely laughed. It was painful and grating. His throat ached.

“I took a shot, but it’s like it didn’t matter,” he said.

“It’s just business, okay?” Roman told him, trying to downplay the situation. “We’re all fucked. Everything just sort of got… mixed up.”

When Shiv stood up, her legs aching, Kendall’s eyes slid shut. “I thought I had an out. I could see it—I could see the way markers, and I thought I could, out of all our shit, I thought I could take us all out of it. I tried, guys. I did.”

Roman hummed. Shiv stayed silent. You watched him, pensive.

“I don’t know,” said Kendall. “I’m not a good person.”

“Well, whatever,” Roman said, miffed. “You’re… fine.”

“I’m… I’m bad.”

A few tense, sparse chuckles. Roman shot you a confused look, as if to say, is he for real?

“Lighten up, glum-glum,” Rome said.

Kendall blinked down at the sand. “I killed a kid.”

“Hm?”

“What?” you quietly asked. What was he talking about?

Shiv laughed a bit, wondering if this was all an elaborate joke. After all, it was hard to take anything Kendall did seriously after his disaster of a birthday party.

“I killed a kid,” Kendall repeated.

“Like… metaphorically?” you queried.

“No, I… I killed a kid. And, yeah, they’re… they’re coming for me. They’re gonna come for me.”

Your mouth fell open and shut, shocked and uncertain of what to do, what to say.

“Is this—?” Shiv looked around wildly. “Is this real? What the fuck?”

There was a sharp inhale. A warm breeze blew by, and Kendall found himself swallowing around what felt like dust. Glass shards. All the same.

“At your wedding,” he said.

“What?” Shiv asked, voice hardened.

“Horseshit,” said Roman, though he knew it, deep down, none of it was horseshit.

Rapidly, Kendall blinked. “The kid. That kid.”

“Uh, you mean the… the waiter kid?” Shiv clarified.

A soft, nearly horrified exhale slipped from you. “That was you?” you asked, voice much smaller than it had been only minutes ago.

“I was high,” he began to explain, miserable. “I was trying to score, and I was drunk, I was fucked up, and I drove. He saw something and he snatched at the wheel. We went into the water.” His voice trembled. “And then I left him in there and I ran.”

“Uhm, okay, we gotta… we gotta get you inside,” Shiv started, but Kendall’s shoulders began to shake.

His head lowered further. “It’s fucking lonely,” he quietly sobbed. A tear fell down his cheek, slipping into his mouth. “I’m all apart.”

You weren’t quite sure what to do, so you reached out and kept a steady grip on one of his knees. It grounded him, in a way, because his sobs seemed to dullen after a few seconds.

“I mean, if it pleases the court,” Roman began to say, which made your stomach roil in fear of what other abrasive comment he might spit out, “it sounds like you didn’t really kill him. Sounds to me like… he killed him.”

Your brows cinched. Kendall ran away from the kid and drove under the influence, which made him largely at fault. But you also knew it wasn’t… wholly on his shoulders. It was an accident, first and foremost. Besides—what choice did he have than to keep quiet, with his tail pressed beneath Logan’s thumb?

“Rome, I’m a piece of shit, man,” Kendall sniffled, shaking his head.

“The road and the water killed him,” offered Roman. “That’s what it sounds like.”

“What he’s trying to say,” you interjected, voice slow and placating. “Is that it was an accident.”

“Yeah, seriously. You crashed, and then, what? You ran?”

“No, I mean… I tried to get him. I dived a few times.”

Roman spread his arms out a bit. “See? That… that sounds like the story of a hero to me. That’s more than I would’ve fucking done. Seriously, I would’ve been out of that water like a tabby cat from a bath.”

Pained laughs from Kendall filled in the space between the four of you, which dissolved into cries. “Don’t, man. I’m… I’m a killer.”

Scoffing, Roman groaned out, “Fuck you. Come on, bullshit. At worst you’re an… a fucking irresponsibler. Okay? You’re bigging yourself up.”

“I don’t know, you guys,” Kendall hiccupped. “I’m blown into a million pieces.”

“Okay, uhm, we gotta get you out of here,” Shiv said, rubbing his shoulder.

“We could bring him back to the chapel,” Roman offered. “Stuff him into a confessional. That might fix him.”

It was then that your phone started ringing, the lawyers calling you back. You gently apologized to the siblings, before stepping away and answering. Not long after you, Shiv’s phone began to ring with Laird’s caller ID, and she pulled off, as well. Leaving just the two brothers.

Roman sank down to sit beside him. He tried, and failed, to comfort him. But he succeeded, too. Somehow.

“I’m sorry,” Kendall croaked.

Wincing, Roman said, “You know, one waiter down makes a bit more sense. Took me forever to get a fucking drink at that wedding.”

“Please, man, I can’t—”

“Yeah, no, I’m just saying. Who’s the real victim here, you know? I waited three quarters of an hour for a gin and tonic.”

Both you and Shiv hung up your calls at the same time, making your way back to the brothers.

“You first,” you told Shiv. “What’s Laird know?”

She nodded. “He was inside the deal, then got cucked out of the lead. He’s bitter and bleating. GoJo buys Waystar. They pay a premium, Dad cashes out—cash and stock, maybe a title and a few assets, but it’s Matsson’s fucking board.”

“Can we trust that? Is that even real? Laird is a fucking prick. I know this—I was stuck as a hostage with him pissing buckets next to me,” Roman spat.

“Look, Kendall, I know you’re in a tough spot right now, but we have to talk about this now. I’ll call the car. Let’s just get the fuck out of here,” Shiv said.

The eldest of the four burst into another raucous sob. Roman got up from the ground and placed his hands on his brother’s shoulders, squeezing. Shiv palmed his buzzed head. You took your previous spot, crouching down in front of him and patted his kneecaps.

No more words were exchanged about the accident. It was time for war.

“What’s your news?” Roman asked. “My lawyers?”

You offered them a small, bitter smile. “There might be a gun in this knife-fight.”

In the car, you explained to them how the lawyers had found a clause in the extensive divorce settlement between Logan and Caroline: the kids would have veto power to any changes in company control.

If all the kids objected, there was legally no way Matsson could buy Waystar.

The siblings were reunited on the same side for the first time in what felt like decades. Despite this, Roman still felt uneasy about the whole ordeal.

“These are still all just rumors,” he said from beside you. “So I’ll have to talk to Dad alone first.”

Indignant, Shiv scoffed. “You think you’re close to him? You’re just his little rat fucker.”

“I’m just saying, as a matter of fact, that Dad and I have been working closely lately and I don’t want to go in too aggressive,” he heatedly defended. “I’m not busting in there crying Team Shiv, okay? We don’t know how this is going to play out yet.”

“You think Dad is protecting you?” Shiv hissed. “No, we let Matsson take control, that is Dad slamming the door! It means he doesn’t think that we will, can, or should take over.”

“All this time he’s spent braying about family,” you whispered, staring out at the rolling Italian fields flashing past. “And he’s the one who drives the knife in.”

Roman bit down on the inside of his cheek. “I just don’t think we should be aggressive. Can we even actually stop him with this one clause?”

“Yes,” Kendall said. “A change of control needs a super majority in the holding company. He’d need us to agree to it.”

“Exactly,” you said. “Just one of you, it wouldn’t work. That’s why he wasn’t threatened when it was just Kendall. The three of you, though… that’s the golden goose.”

Roman nodded, uncertain. “Right, well. I’m not sure I want to pull a move like that. Maybe I just… I stick with what I got.” He looked at you, expecting your support on this, but you pointedly pursed your lips.

Shiv gritted her jaw. “Which is what, exactly? A hard drive full of dick pics you send Y/N? Where exactly do you think we fit on Matsson’s new org chart, Rome?”

In a calmer voice, Kendall said, “He’ll gut you like a pig, Rome.”

Roman’s brows knitted together.

“Rome, you know Dad is never going to choose you because he thinks there’s something wrong with you,” Shiv said. “I’m sorry, but maybe it’s time we said these things to each other. Instead of just airing it out to Vanity Fair.”

There was a roll of his eyes, but you could tell that her words hit close to home. A home he never felt safe in, perhaps.

“Hey, Rome,” you said, taking his hand, uncaring that Shiv and Kendall were there to see. They’ve seen far worse, after all, and you were nearly certain they already knew what was going on between the two of you. “You might not have a place beneath Matsson. You know that, right? And… and neither would I, I don’t think.”

This seemed to tip the scales over for him. The thought of not having the company to keep you close by his side anymore—to tether you to him—made him far more scared than he cared to admit.

Finally, Roman tentatively broached, “The holding company move… if we do that, that’s real?”

“He can’t sanction a deal without us. That’s legal fact,” Kendall said. “Block him and he’s fucked.”

With an air of finality, Shiv said, “Okay, we just rip the band-aid right off. Push him out. Get him on his own, say it was his urinary tract at the shareholder meeting—say he’s out of it. He’s fucking a twenty year old, and he’s planning for babies in jars. He’s gone loopy, and he’s tried to sell the shop while fucking his assistant. If we tell the board all that, he’s toast.”

“Burnt,” you agreed.

“Full coup,” Kendall said.

“Yeah. We have, say, Ken, chair? Rome or me, CEO? The other, COO, or whatever they want—studios, movies, TV. Equal.” There was a hopeful glint to her eyes. “Y/N takes CFO, maybe director of operations, maybe president of relations. Whichever floats your boat.”

You were quite happy with your quaint little title as general branch manager, but you nodded along to Shiv’s words, not wanting to argue with semantics.

“Okay, but really equal. Like, actual equal. If we do this, I don’t want you two cunts trying to big-brother me out of my fucking piece, okay? And I want the dick pic stuff with Y/N cleared. We do shit like that. We like each other, alright? Deal with it.”

Shiv eyed you warily, but found herself in no position to turn him down, especially not with him in such a precarious position. You shot Roman a flattered smile, squeezing his hand. This was the most open Roman’s been about his relationship with you… ever.

“We can fight all the details out,” Shiv reassured. “It’ll… it’ll be fun.”

The siblings laughed, genuine and chesty.

“Oh, fuck,” Roman breathed out. For a second, it seemed like his eyes seemed to glass over, but it was gone with his next blink. “I do think that, even though this literally makes me want to vomit and I wanna kill you both every day and it’s all going to end horribly… I do think that we—puke—could make a pretty good team.”

“So how do we feel about killing Dad?” Shiv asked.

Kendall smiled. “Pass me the fucking shotgun.”

By the time the four of you reached Logan, the sun had only barely set, and a heavy sort of darkness started stealing away the clouds. The rooms were full to the brim and bustling about with a frantic atmosphere. Lawyers and financiers and other powerful figures from the companies flitting to and fro.

Logan, however, was in a separate room. Empty, save for the few people at the very top.

He called for the four of you to come in, all false smiles and honeyed tones.

“Hey. Hi, everyone,” Roman greeted, high-strung. “We’re just feeling a little out of the loop, Dad.”

“Oh, of course. Things have moved very fast, yes. Sit down, all of you.”

None of you sat down, but Roman stood across the table from his dad. “So, yeah, we’re, uh… we’re hearing some rumors about GoJo?”

“We heard that we might be the target now,” Shiv said in a far colder tone in comparison to her brother. “Is that right, Dad?”

Logan nodded once. “Okay. I’ve been looking at a few options.”

“Right. We might be affected with our positions, so we just wanted to get some clarity,” Shiv said.

A harsh glare was sent in Kendall’s direction. “Absolutely, but do you mind not with him in here giving me the fucking doggy-evils? Can you take him out, Romulus? I’ll fill in your sister and give you the angles.” Logan gestured vaguely at his second-eldest son. “I don’t trust him.”

Roman swallowed uneasily, unmoving.

Logan stared at him expectantly. “Roman?”

“You can tell us together, Dad,” Kendall said.

“I thought we had this figured out,” Logan deadpanned, fixing his angry glare onto Roman instead of Kendall.

Five different emotions seemed to flash across Roman’s face at once. “Yeah, no, we just… it might be better. If all of us heard.”

A steady breath. Finally, Logan acquiesced. “Okay. The market capitalizations of our firm have been on the move. Ours is a declining business. There’s a wave of consolidations happening, and that means this is the optimal moment, in my opinion, to make a deal with a serious tech operation like GoJo. That’s what I’ve been exploring, okay?”

Shiv stiffly put forth, “Okay, so, I would like to say, on behalf of all of us, can you ease up and let us in? Stop this until we see how exactly we’re impacted?”

“No, it has to be now,” Logan said.

“An hour to negotiate positions wouldn’t hurt,” you said, far icier than you were anticipating to be.

Logan leveled his gaze with you, simultaneously curious and angry. “Aren’t you supposed to be fired? Or did Romulus have the balls to fucking sever things?”

You reared back a step, teeth gritted. Roman sucked in a cold breath.

“Why does it have to be now?” Shiv demanded.

“Because I can feel it in my bones,” said Logan. “And, at the end of the day, it’s all I fucking got.”

Shiv angrily narrowed her eyes. “Well, you know that’s bullshit.”

“Look, this is the best moment to sell. If I don’t do the best deal at any given point, what’s the point of anything? I don’t get out, I leave five billion on the table,” the father explained.

“Come on, Dad. What are you gonna do with the five bil?” Kendall prodded. “Huh? Put it on your pile with all your other fucking bil?”

Logan frowned and nodded. “Mhm. Probably.”

“And what are we supposed to do?” Kendall asked.

“Make your own fucking pile,” hissed Logan. Then, after taking a pause to collect himself, Logan continued, “I know this is an adjustment, but our blood’s in the water and I need to make moves fast in order to control the situation and get myself and all of you assurances in the future.”

“Assurances?” Shiv echoed. “Once Matsson is calling the shots, we’re fucked!”

A dismissive wave of his hand. “No, nah. He rates you. And this is an opportunity for you kids to get an education in real life.”

“With you at the top, we can take over, but without you, we’re fucked,” Shiv said. The brothers stood side by side, quiet.

Abruptly, Logan stood up from his seat. “Come on, Roman. Let’s get away from these Jacobins. I’ve got you. We can discuss this.” Roman looked to you, and Logan clocked the exchange. “Y/N, my dear. We’ll work you in, of course. You are such a valuable asset to the company. The glue, as I recall all the papers we publish calling you.”

You stepped closer to Roman, putting a hand on his elbow.

This spurred him into saying, “Hey, look, Dad, I know what Matsson said, I was there. But, uhm, with Matsson calling the shots, we’re… we’re strung up in the town square.”

“No!” Logan asserted, making his way closer, standing less than an arm’s length away from Roman. “He likes you! You have my word. This is an opportunity son. A bit of fucking grit. Adversity, like me. You can trust me.”

These days, Logan Roy’s word seemed to mean very little. It was his money that held the power.

“You can’t trust him,” Shiv said, voice straining.

Roman’s hands shook. “Uhm…” His voice went all soft, almost a husky whisper. “We’re here to say, to ask, please… do not do this.”

Logan tilted his head. “And what if I decide not to listen to you?”

“We can stop you,” Shiv said. “And we will. Blow this up.”

“Kids have voting power over company control,” you told your godfather. “From the divorce.”

“Yeah,” agreed Shiv. “You need all of us. You need a super majority, and we can kill it.”

This time, Logan yelled, voice bellowing. “You’re playing toy fucking soldiers!” Roman flinched back into you, and you rubbed your thumb along the inside of his forearm. “Go on! Fuck off, all of you! I have you beat! You f—morons!”

Nose twitching with contempt, Shiv protested, “Well, no, because you need a super majority—”

Logan roared out a mocking imitation of Shiv’s voice, somehow still terrifying. He sighed then, pulling a hand over his weary features. He turned, asking Kerry something. Something you didn’t quite catch.

Then a phone was being pulled out, and you heard Caroline’s voice crackling through the line.

A heavy pit sunk down your stomach. It clicked for you before it clicked for the siblings—mostly because they were probably in such heavy denial.

Caroline had renegotiated the divorce agreement, effectively robbing the children of their say. Their voices. All three of their faces fell, crestfallen, as the weight of the realization slammed into them.

Shiv seemed the angriest of them, muttering expletives and yelling angrily at her mother through the phone. Caroline apologized, saying it was for the best, but she wouldn’t hear a single word of it. The call was hung up a second later.

“Dad,” Roman said, disrupting the eerie, tense silence. “Please?”

He was a child asking for a dog again. He was a teenager asking to come home from military school again. He was a young adult asking for his dad to stop hitting him again.

“Please?” Logan parroted, almost disbelieving.

“Please,” he repeated, voice breaking.

“The seat sniffer gets a fucking leg up,” his father scoffed. “That’s a deal. What have you got in your fucking deck?”

“What have I got?” Roman asked. He reached back so the hand you had rested on his elbow laced with his. “I don’t know. Fucking… fucking love?”

When Logan repeated that word—love—it sounded so childish on his tongue. So frivolous and fanciful, as if it couldn’t possibly exist.

“You come for me… with love? You bust in here, guns in hand, and now you find they’ve turned into fucking sausages. You talk about love?” He worked a hand over his jaw. “You should’ve trusted me.”

Tears filled Roman’s eyes. “Dad, why?”

“Why?” Logan swept his gaze over his children, his goddaughter. “Because it works. I fucking win.

A beat of unbearable silence. Your nose stung, a familiar sensation.

“Go on, go on. Fuck off. You nosy fucking pedestrians.”

A wave of nausea rolled over Roman. He called out for his father as Logan stormed off, disappearing behind the doors. Then, he rushed over to ask Gerri to help them out, as Shiv stressed on who had tipped Logan off that they were on their way to see him.

Gerri dismissed Roman, brushing him off as if he were a bread crumb on her jacket. Tom arrived then, asking if his wife was okay. Shiv seemed to piece something together that you didn’t quite understand yet.

Roman sank to the ground, and Kendall put his hands on his brother’s shoulders, just as Roman did for him hours ago. You sat down beside him, your side pressed up against his.

“I want to go home,” Roman muttered. “This was all for nothing. It meant nothing.”

“Okay, Rome,” you whispered in return. “We’ll go home.”

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