#*not to say roman gets away with everything just. shiv would get away with it Less.

[wambsgansshoelaces]

heyy love, i love your fics so muchhh!! if ur requests are open, i was wondering if you could write this fun lil oneshot i thought of<3

(didn't really think much of the details but i imagined something like the episode with the pierce family, or u could change to what feels nice to u)

reader is like super hot/crazy attractive and the siblings are instantly interested. kendall and roman, being their idiot selves, start competing for her attention and trying to get her to accept going out etc. turns out, at the end of the day, shiv gets the girl, as she was the one reader wanted all along (gagged them)

Girls Get Girls

Siobhan Roy x fem!Reader

not gonna lie anon I feel like I didn’t do this too well so I’m so so sorry :( I still hope you enjoy even though I don’t really deliver x

btw I literally love you anon keep requesting

im so gay

Word Count: 2.893k

Mergers, acquisitions, stock, trade, liquidation. You couldn’t give a shit about any of it.

You’re not in the financial field at all, much to your parents’ disappointment. It’d brought you out of favor with them, brought your siblings closer to each other.

You usually don’t come to these things, but tonight it talk of selling the entire company. Leaving it all behind, cashing in the lotto, and fucking off. Your family had convinced you to come- despite your clear dislike for everything finance and business, you still hold stock and stake in the company. You were also going to get a pretty penny from your inheritance, so it would be wise to judge your potential buyer alongside your family.

You’re getting ready in your childhood bedroom, pacing the carpet as you put the finishing touches on your outfit. Your father had made it very clear: your job was to root out intention, then act accordingly. Regardless of whether you thought the Roys were worthy of the company or not is irrelevant at this moment. You need to be intimidating.

Intimidating, but also hot. Just for yourself.

A soft knock sounds at your door. “It’s me,” your cousin calls from the hall.

“Come in,” you call back.

She waltzes in, her blouse billowing behind her as she deposits herself on your bed. “Dad’s going to have an aneurysm.”

Even though you already know the answer, you ask, “Why?” You lean against your desk, facing her.

She snorts, knowing you’re trying to push her buttons. “He wants the company, dipshit. I still think all if this is to get on our nerves.”

��A chimp would do better as CEO than any of you,” you say, scoffing. What had started out as what you thought was joking was turning into something else.

“So why won’t you do it, then?” she asks, bitterly. “I don’t see why it has to be either you or someone out of the family entirely.”

“I’m not doing it because I don’t want to. My siblings also just… have no interest. We’re all off to bigger, better things.”

The two of you stare at each other until your father’s yelling draws you both from your trance.

“Up and at ’em,” he’s saying, pretty much to himself, once you’re downstairs. You brush imaginary dust from your sleeves as you make the awkward walk to the helipad. You and your brother share an exasperated look. Despite the fact that you’d been wedged apart over the years, you and your siblings share a lot of the same views and opinions.

“All this peacocking is fucking insane,” he mutters to you once you’re stopped a safe distance away from the pad.

“Just wait until you see them,” you mutter back.

Even though you weren’t involved in the business side of the company, you’d still been involved. You’d gone to dinners, conferences, galas. You were a bit of an outside source, as you held no real position in the company, but you knew you were vital.

At almost every event where someone with your last name was required to attend, there was also a Roy. You’d only ever seen them, never spoken to them

You hear the helicopter before you see it. Sunglasses perched on your nose, you look up. As it descends, your hair and jacket are blown vigorously back, and your hand goes to your scalp. The generated wind is aggressive, slicing over your skin, your clothing. The sound is now deafening, and you notice your sister clamping her hands over her ears. Your father gives her a look, something along the lines of don’t look weak, and your sister rolls her eyes in response, mouthing fuck you.

You have to suppress your smile. The helicopter’s landed, and people are starting to pile out.

“Logan, old friend,” your dad bellows jovially. While the two families had never met, never been close, you know your father and Logan Roy were actually the best of friends. You don’t know how they met. Your father spoke of Logan from as far back as undergrad university.

Your father steps forward, meeting Logan halfway as he leads the rest of his family towards yours. They envelope each other in a hug, and your brother snorts. He’s the only one who’s ever interacted with the Roys.

“It’s like he has a multiple personality disorder,” he’d told you the other day, talking about the enigma that was the head of the other family. “One second he’s laughing, then the minute Dad’s out the room, the guy’s raging over his kids or the people not doing enough work or whatever the fuck else is wrong with that stupid fucking company.”

He turns from your father to your mother, murmuring a warm greeting, then to the row of you, your sister, and your brother.

“Oh, look at the three of you! All grown and radiant,” he says heartily. So far, he doesn’t seem like the demon your younger brother had described him to be. But you know well enough that looks can be deceiving. He opens his arms out to you first, since you’re the eldest of the three. You give him an awkward hug, his hand clapping over your back in a friendly manner. “If only any of my children had the sense to get with you,” he mutters conspiratorially, earning a chuckle from you. He pats your shoulder, before moving on to your brother.

Logan’s wife is next. “Marcia,” she murmurs softly to you, taking you by the shoulders and air-kissing both your cheeks. You return the gesture as she does it, making sure to stay smiling. It’s all a flurry of names you’re sure you’re going to forget the second you need them. Connor, Gerri, Willa, Frank, Rhea. It’s really all just a bunch of letters bouncing around in your head.

Who you’re sure you will remember, though, are the siblings. The younger three. The important ones, your dad liked to call them.

As all of the ‘adults’ convened to chat amongst themselves, like they did when you were children, you and your sister are having a quiet conversation about your work. She’s in the middle of asking you to come out to her office to help you with something when you feel a hand settle on your shoulder. You turn, coming eye to eye with Kendall Roy.

“Hi,” he says carefully, small smile playing on his lips. “I don’t think we’ve met?”

“No, we haven’t,” you say back. “Y/N.” You offer him your hand to shake, like your father expects you to do with everyone.

“Kendall.”

“Yeah, I know,” you say awkwardly. He manages a laugh, withdrawing his hand, his eyes flitting over your face.

“I’m sorry it’s taken me this long, then, to, uh, put your name to your face.”

You’re not really sure what he means, but you don’t think you care that much.

“Move over, Kendall, you’re boring the shit out of her.” His brother comes over, bumping him with his hip. You have to stifle a laugh. “Roman.” You shake hands, offering him a polite smile. “He’s right, though. You’re a bit of a mystery to everyone.”

“Am I?” you ask, laughter seeping into your voice.

“Not to me.” Her voice is firm, clear. “I’m Shiv. I was at the conference you gave the Ethics presentation to. I know your work. My brothers are just stupid.”

You laugh for real this time. “Nice to meet you, Shiv. I’m familiar with your work, too. I’m just not so deep into the political sphere like you are.”

“I can help with that, you know,” she says, expression surprisingly soft. “I’ve been looking for someone that shares my opinions and… moral compass to work with. You need your rock, you know?”

The conglomerate of people slowly transitions inside. Roman and Kendall get roped into other conversations, your sister disappearing off to who knows where. You mill about in the dimly lit sitting room, watching everyone interact. Shiv’s still by your side.

“No offense, but I hate these things,” she says quietly, coming closer to you so you can hear.

You laugh lightly. “None taken.” You glance over at her to find that her eyes are already glued to you. You feel your face heat, her gaze flickering down your body before coming back up to your face. She has a sly smile on, but it’s quickly melting into one of real, soft emotion. You open your mouth to offer her something you’ll probably regret later, but are interrupted by your father clapping his hands together and waving everyone into the dining room. Instead, you give her an exasperated smile and follow the crowd.

Your father eyes you and your siblings as you all slip into your strategically chosen seats, making it so you’d all be surrounded by Roys. Your brother makes a face at you from the other side of the table. You ignore him, instead looking up at Shiv, who hovers by the chair at your left hand.

Almost shyly, she asks, “May I?”

“Please.”

A giddy smile spreads across her face as she sits, and you can’t help but mirror her expression. You look down into your plate, catching your sister’s gaze on you. Kendall takes the seat on your other side, Logan sitting directly across from you, right by your dad.

Roman and your brother are laughing over something as you get served the appetizer, your sister staring off into space while Connor talks at her rather than to her. Your mother speaks quietly with Marcia, and of course, your father and Logan are the loudest at the table, laughing and gesturing around.

Your cousin is on Kendall’s other side, overly-focused on her food. The conversation suddenly involves the entire table, Logan leaving forward. “What is it you do again, Y/N?”

You shrug lightly. “I work in media and risk analysis. Dabble a bit in economics.”

“So like Shiv?”

“Not really,” you and her say at the same time. You gesture with your fork, letting her continue.

“Our work certainly overlaps, and I’m glad it does,” she says, “but I’m more… political, she’s more… corporate.”

“If you dabbled in economics,” your cousin manages through gritted teeth, “we wouldn’t be here.”

“Neither would we if you did,” you retort calmly.

She scoffs. “I still don’t see why all of this is happening,” she says back, barely loud enough for everyone to hear. You look to your father, praying he’ll deal with it himself before she goes on some tirade, scaring off the buyer, but he makes no move. He simply glances at you, his gaze loaded.

Do it yourself.

You wait for a few moments, letting the tension strain the room. Maybe she’ll back off.

She doesn’t.

“The company is leaving family hands because of you, Y/N. It’s going to crash and burn because you refuse to fucking see what’s sitting in front of you.”

Logan’s lips press together into a thin line, and you know you have to recover. “I don’t want the company. Neither of my siblings want it. Don’t you think it’s a little telling you’re the only one lusting after it so loudly?”

“I don’t see what that has to say about me.”

“You want it, and you’re not getting it,” you say firmly. “You’re incompetent. The Roy name is not.”

Dinner is only silent for so much longer. Your brother, at his breaking point, asks loudly, “Why are you even here? You blew the Pierce deal. Fuck off.” Your father hisses something into your brother’s ear. He scoffs in response. “I’m sick of it, Dad. The three of us bust our asses to get this to go well for you and she gets to waltz in, do whatever the fuck she wants whenever the fuck she wants.” He quickly pushes back his chair from the table and makes his way out of the dining room.

Clearly, this is deeper than one stupid comment made at the dinner table. You throw a questioning glance at your sister. She gives a minute shake of her head. She doesn’t know.

Dramatically, your cousin follows your brother out. Roman is trying not to laugh, and all of a sudden, your father and Logan aren’t in the mood they were before.

You turn to Shiv, exasperated. She’s also stuffing a laugh down, and it’s contagious. “Is my juvenile family drama amusing to you?” you murmur to her questioningly, the soft clink of silverware and terse chatter filling the room.

“Yeah,” she says, nearly choking on a laugh. “This is so fucking stupid. How do you deal with it?”

“I never stay home.” You down the rest of the water in your glass.

“Hey, uh, Y/N,” Kendall begins, leaning towards you as you turn to face him. “I just wanted to say, I get how it feels.” He gestures vaguely around. “So if you want to, um, get some air after, I’d love to join you.”

You thank him sincerely, giving him a soft smile. Dessert finally comes out. You’re almost there. You turn back to Shiv, but she’s conversing with whoever’s on her other side, to your disappointment. You eat your cheesecake in silence, Roman catching your eye and giving you a wink. You didn’t know people actually did that, but he pulled it off nicely, you think.

When your father finally gets up, ushering everyone into the sitting room for drinks and chatter, you heave a sigh of relief. You trail behind the crowd, hoping to be able to slip away on your own.

You succeed. You sigh up at the high vaulted ceiling, padding towards the grand staircase up to your room.

“Hey, where’re you going?” comes a soft voice. You turn, Shiv, hurrying after you.

“Escaping,” you say jokingly, pausing on the stairs, letting her catch up to you.

“Can I come?”

“Yeah. You can.”

The sight of her sitting cross-legged on your bed does something to you. It sucks all the air from your body. But maybe that was just the sight of her.

"Your brother okay?" she asks, looking up at you.

"He'll be fine. Everyone's just a bit tense."

"Just so you know, your cousin's temper tantrum doesn't change anything."

"I'd hope it didn't."

"What would change things though," she tells you, "is whether you want to come on once we buy the company."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. I was serious when I was talking about how I need someone in my corner."

"What do you mean?"

"It's me. The company gets handed to me."

"Congratulations, Shiv. But really, I want nothing to do with it."

"I'd be running things. You'd just be my right hand woman. The very attractive right hand woman that I see every day."

You laugh, unable to suppress the grin splitting your face.

“My cousin’ll murder me,” you manage to say.

“So? Let her try. Not like you’ll go down or anything.” She smiles up at you. “I think that’s hot. You’re hot.”

Silence stretches between the two of you, both of you grinning at each other.

“You’re really pretty,” you breathe, believing she followed you for a reason.

“I’m glad you think so.” Her hands come to cup your jaw in the few instances it takes you to cross the room, slide onto your bed, and kiss her. “God, you’re so… so fucking gorgeous.”

“Yeah?” you ask against her lips, peppering gentle kisses onto them. “Stay the night.”

“I told everyone I went home,” she says, giggling.

Your hand flits to her hip, rubbing soothingly. Your kisses are slow, tender. You’re both enjoying yourselves. It feels so real. It feels like something more.

You slide off of her, off the bed, eliciting a whine from her pretty mouth. “Just locking the door, baby.”

You wake up, head buried in her chest. She’d borrowed some pajamas of yours, the shirt a soft cotton. Her breathing is light and airy, and it’s music to your ears. Her fingers are threaded in the hair at your scalp, her arm thrown over your back.

You drift in and out of consciousness until she wakes up, pressing kisses along your forehead. Shiv sits up, letting you stay settled in her lap. You press a hot kiss to her bare thigh, shorts hiked up her legs.

“You know,” she says, after a short while of silence, “Ken and Roman were drooling over you all night.”

You snort. “Were they?”

“I know them. They were. And here I am,” she says, satisfied with herself.

You let out an airy laugh. “Here you are.”

“I was drooling, too,” she admits.

“Can we stop talking about saliva?”

She pinches your ass, to which you don’t dignify with a reaction, instead smiling into her thigh. “I wanna keep seeing you.”

“I have to fly out to Italy for some work. Maybe I want you to come with me.”

“God, I love women.” Her hand cards through your hair. “Mind if I take a picture? I want to send it to my brothers.”

“Perv,” you mutter, but nod anyway. You smile at the camera from her thigh, pressing a searing kiss to the place where her leg meets her hip the moment she hits the button.

It captures her beautiful face in an ecstatic smile, yours in soft affection as you look up at her, not the camera.

[richeeduvie]

I love to stir the pot… imagine if when Logan and baby came out about her being pregnant, Kendall or Roman made some snarky remark about her getting an abortion

Glassed

Roman's looking like he's about to say something filled with blood, that it's about to burst on the tip of his tongue with his head low. His finger presses against his glass. You think he's been getting drunk, or...you know so.

You can't stop yourself from knowing him, even after all this time.

You don't catch Kendall's look or two at your bump. It's there, even in all it's slightness. You roll your head. Logan takes a bite of his meal. It's been a hard day for everyone. The pregnancy, perfectly difficult and cryptic means you're away from Waystar more often. So, you don't have all the details of what went down in the offices, but the tense, Roy routine silence and smooth but snarked banter tells you enough about the day. Logan's gone into another fight with his children.

"So, Pop - are we going to find out if Roy number five is a girl or boy or we'll they pop out as a genital-less surprise?"

Connor smiles sheepishly. You smile at him, taking Logan's hand.

"I've left it up to the patriarch of the house to decide."

"Each one of you were left up to chance, the next one will be no different."

"Abortion at the gender reveal would be fun."

Roman's soft and standard humor hits your heart like a baseball bat. Things clink and go quiet.

Except for your baby, who kicks - it would be something to celebrate and your muscles feel it so, but not with the silence. Not at this moment.

You turn over your fork, looking at the way Roman doesn't look at you.

"Let's not talk about abortion when the pregnant party is very willing to give this family another little member, Rome-"

Connor tries, turned to Roman. Roman clicks his head to the right as he scratches his cheek.

"You have a lot of material. Throw yourself a gender reveal party and when you and Dad cut into a cake - I mean, just imagine it, a coat hanger and baby bits in black and red icing-"

Before Roman's words can really hit you, his words are broken by the way glass crashes and cracks against the wall - just past him and his curled up upper body.

Clinking and yelling and everything else ensues. You realize your hand isn't holding Logan's anymore.

"Dad! What the fuck?"

"Jesus Christ."

Kendall's up and in Logan's face, Shiv's wide eyed with Tom's arm around her shoulders. Pissed, everyone's pissed or in panic.

"You okay, sweetheart?"

It's Frank's hand on your shoulder. "It wasn't me who was almost glassed. I'm fine, you okay?"

"I-"

"I'm fine! I'm fine, not the worst thing Dad, I'm fine, Dad. But not the worst thing I've ever said either. That gets a glass?"

It takes a one-second glance at his father, at your low-browed husband who still sits in his chair.

"Sorry, sorry - enough with the snaps. Fuck."

"What business is it of yours to defend his words, you want to stare down at me?"

"Throwing a glass during fucking dinner? Are you-"

"Everyone, just calm down!"

"I'm going, I've got chips in my ear."

Roman's himself when this type of thing happens to him. And it has, over and over and over. He pulls on his ear on the way out. You forget, with a hand to your stomach, that it's not Caroline or Marcia that has to settle Logan.

It's you. But you just swallow instead.

"I have to-I have to use the bathroom."

Logan barely listens with all his redden eyes baring into his second eldest son. You move out quickly, heels clicking against the floor.

You make your way to the bathroom. Your heart beats against little kicks.

Somehow, this is where you're the small one out of the two of you. The white and gold-trimmed door creaks and puts the sight of Roman dabbing his ear in front of you.

"Fuck your baby. Look what your baby did. If I was the one that stuffed you, it would've gotten my humor, but it'll probably get Dad's aim. It was better when we were younger, right?"

"...I think they found it funny. Do you wanna feel?"

Anything to make him feel better. It's instinctual.

You swallow. Roman looks at you through the mirror. He blinks and holds his bloodied tissue up.

"Wanna lick?"

"This is the second time they've kicked. They know how to take a joke, I think."

Then he's not looking at you and you would know what he thinks, even then - but the moment where both of you exist, unfortunately...you just want him to touch you.

Platonically, to feel his sibling kick. To feel him.

You watch Roman's throat bob and turn. His eyes follow your hand to your bump.

His throat bobs again as he kneels. He presses the red of his ear to your stomach.

He presses in. You watch his quick, uneven blinking at each kick - each flutter.

"At least someone can get that I'm the only one that says what we're all thinking."

[motions1ckness]

“Don’t Call me Kid.”

Summary: Roman get’s a bit too drunk at Kendall’s birthday. (03x07)

Content: established relationship, f!reader, angst, age gap, degradation, insecurity, verbal abuse(?), humiliation, mention of Logan Roy

{This is my first fic so i hope you enjoy!)

*Update:pt 2 “SweetHeart” is up rn!!

Roman had you on edge the whole night. You had never seen him this snide or aggressive before. You blame the immense amount of alcohol he consumed, mixed with him talking to Mattson. So, when you caught Shiv getting more agitated with Roman, you knew he was spewing bullshit.

Though you didn’t feel the most compassion for Kendall, you had spent the night with Shiv and Roman and you couldn’t help but pity the man. It was his birthday and his siblings showed up for Mattson, not him. Time had passed from your arrival, and you stood at a distance from them, far enough that you weren’t in the conversation but you could still see what was happening. Roman sat while Shiv stood in front of him. You could tell he was getting under her skin but thought it was best to stay out of it. In doing so, you had to act like you were listening to this brainless celebrity talk to you about god knows what.

You get snapped out of your head when you hear Shiv call for you, wanting Roman's power trip to end.

“Can you get over here and deal with your mess?” You walked over to them and noticed they had also roped Kendall in this mess.

You took a second to study Roman’s face. He was refusing eye contact with you. Probably out of shame and not wanting to face the consequences. His eyes appeared dark, and his demeanor was unfamiliar. He’s just drunk. He’s just drunk. You tell yourself, hoping you didn’t just find out who you were really dating.

“Oh great. Are you trying to get me in timeout or something?” Roman joked, his eyes flicker over you for a moment. “Whatever, you know Kendall, I already talked to Mattson, who hates you by the way,” He laughs at his own demeaning remark. Everyone is uncomfortable. Kendall turns to Niaomi, who's trying to comfort him by holding his arm and rubbing his hand between hers. You couldn’t stand the way Roman was acting. Sure, he makes quippy remarks all the time, but this time he was just being an asshole.

You clear your throat slightly, uncomfortable with the situation, “Roman, I think you should stop.”

Your eyes lingered on him the whole time, hoping adding yourself into the conversation would defuse the situation and you two could forget about this.

When Roman heard your voice, he finally met your eyes. Turning to face you and sneered “Oh I’m sorry sweetheart, did I hurt your feelings?” You knew Roman was in defense mode but you couldn’t figure out why. No one was attacking him.

The heat from your face felt more apparent. “I’m just saying, I think you’ve had enough tonight and we should head back.” You hoped this offer would be enough and you'll deal with this in the morning. Roman rolled his eyes and leaned back further in his chair. “No, 'cause you know what, I’m having fun at this depressing shitfest. Why don’t you and Shiv talk about what lipstick has the cuter packaging or whatever.” He said with a shrill mocking tone attempting to dismiss you from the conversation.

Shiv scoffed, beating you to a response, “What the fuck Roman? If you’re going to take anything away from this pathetic conversation, listen to y/n," Shiv looked at you with her best attempt at a comforting grin.

Roman glared at her “Oh fuck off Shiv. You’re such a fucking cunt.”

The conversation wasn’t de-escalating and you felt your blood boiling. You were sure everyone could see how much you were seething. “Rome enough. You’ve had your fun. Now let’s go before you embarrass yourself anymore,” You weren't sure if your response was too harsh, but you remained patient with him long enough.

Roman snorted, now full attention on you because you fell into his game, “That’s fucking rich coming from you. You’re always so goddamn sensitive about everything.” He kept a cruel smirk on his face, waiting for your retaliation. Roman knows you hate arguing, but he wanted to push you tonight. Wanting to pull a reaction out of you, lose your composure. Shiv, Kendall, and Niaomi are still present, just speechless. You and Roman had been arguing more since Logan started stringing him along. The three of them felt stepping in would only worsen the situation and decided to stay quiet, not wanting to escalate it anymore.

You fought the urge to reveal any weakness. “I’m not being sensitive Rome, you’re being a dick, Let’s go.” You were biting the inside of your cheek, trying to abstain from your anger. You tried to grab the glass out of his hand before he quickly yanked it toward him.

His grip on the glass tightened as he swirled the last bit of champagne. “Yeah, right, perfect fucking y/n. Trying to control everything.” The tension was evident. Roman wasn’t backing down, not caring if you were the only person that loved or understood him. He just wanted to inflict damage on you at that moment.

Your body was stiff, arms crossed against your chest, hiding your tightened fists. You tasted how the inside of your cheek was bloody, trying to suppress the growing anger, taking a shallow breath from your nose. Trying your best to remind yourself, He’s just drunk. He’s just drunk. “I’m not controlling anyone. Please Rome, you’re drunk and acting insane-”

His eyes narrowed as he took a sip from his glass, muttering under his breath, cutting you off, “Well, maybe if you weren’t so young-”

“Excuse me?” Stumbling over your words a bit, trying to comprehend what Roman just said. Kendall tried to step in, but Niaomi and Shiv decided it was better to leave you two.

He put down his glass, adjusting his view, maintaining intense eye contact, “I’m just saying, maybe this would all make sense to you if you knew how the world works. But you don’t.” His lips curled into a slight smirk like he was proud of what was said.

You felt your breath quicken. Yes, you were younger than Roman and the rest of the company, but you had repeatedly proven you were qualified for your position. You weren't aware Roman acknowledged your age gap enough to bring it up in an argument. “My age has nothing to do with this.” You couldn’t think of anything witty to say in retaliation. You felt so betrayed.

Roman leaned closer to you, the alcohol taking full effect. He didn't understand he was jeopardizing your guy’s relationship with this. He pressed on, “Sure kid. Keep telling yourself that.” Maintaining that pretentious smirk on his face.

All you could do was shake your head and mutter, “You know I hate when you call me that.” Tears had been prickling in your eyes at this point. You refused to cry fuck, fuck, fuck.

Roman rolled his eyes “Welcome to the real world sweetheart. I’m not going to change who I am, so don’t fucking expect me to. I'm not getting any better. Get over whatever savior complex you have that makes you think you can fix me. It’s not going to work.” With that, you felt a new layer added to this betrayal. And Roman felt it too.

You had no control over emotions anymore. Your heartbeat was already beating furiously and irregularly. Your limbs had lost feeling, and you knew your lip was quivering. All you could feel was the stab in the heart Roman left and tears pooling in your eyes and down your cheek. “Fuck you, Roman.” You didn’t need to say anything more. You wanted to, but you knew you still loved him. You made a straight path to the nearest exit. You didn’t give the staff your phone, so you texted your driver you’ll be out in 5.

All you could hear over the horrid music calling from behind you was “See you around, kid.”

[romulusfuckingroy]

the hit in argestes is still one of THE most heart-dropping/shocking/nauseating scenes in the whole show.

like. we’ve known these characters for a season and a half. we know how this goes. we know how logan acts when one of the kids makes him angry. so we see him walk into the room and we cringe because we know he’s gonna ridicule and belittle shiv.

and then he walks in, and he’s completely silent. and the look on his face is full of rage. marcia speaks for him, and suddenly everything is tense- even more than we’re used to. logan isn’t one to quietly seethe- or, he hasn’t been so far. so we begin to feel like somethings off.

ken agrees with marcia that shiv went too far, and logan nods, just slightly. so that gives us the impression that this anger is solely for shiv. shiv starts to argue back, and we feel like, “stop, he’ll explode on you any second-“ and then roman makes one joke, one joke in favor of logan’s side- and then out of nowhere logan backhands him.

and the composition of the scene is so stomach-churning. the way logan continues to shout at roman after he’s hit him, like this wasn’t just a split-second accident. the way roman fucking recoils, the force of the hit making him stumble a few steps back and then him falling to his knees, clutching his mouth, completely unable to put on his usual persona of going-with-the-flow, because that fucking hurt and his brain needs a second to fucking process what the fuck just happened. the THEME MUSIC kicking in, eerie and unsettling, like it’s mocking the “family images” we see at the beginning of every episode, as if saying “THIS is how it really looks, THIS is the real family.”

and the fallout just makes it worse. ken comes forward and yells at logan, physically gets between him and roman and tells him not to fucking touch him. marcia puts a gentle hand on Logan’s shoulder to guide him away, but when ken gets up in his face, she holds him off, valuing logan’s emotions more than roman’s safety. gerri jumps in the only way she knows how, by placating logan, appealing to his business side- “it played well!” logan leaves with the two women silently, not even staying to see if rome is okay, not even apologizing, not even doing a million other things a father should do in this scenario. tom looks on in horror- we know his parents are, like, the sweetest people alive, so to see his wife’s father just smack his own son and walk away like that, it stuns him.

and then the three siblings. shiv fluttering around them like an anxious butterfly, asking “ro” if he’s okay, knowing it’s sorta-kinda-maybe her fault? and ken holding roman’s shoulders, trying to get a good look at his face, assess the damage. meanwhile roman is trying to get up from the ground in the least humiliating way possible, deciding the best option is to act like it didn’t actually hurt. but when he stands up, with a calculatedly casual look on his face, suddenly he realizes something’s wrong with his tooth. so then the next best option is to just get his siblings off his fucking back, walking away quickly and laughing it off in a voice that sounds more like holding back tears.

and then the scene just fucking ends. and all we hear about roman for the rest of the episode is that he’s not coming to the comedy roast with the rest of the family.

the scene goes so quickly from normal, to tense, to pure chaos before we know it, and we as the audience couldn’t have possibly have predicted where it would go. roman wasn’t even the one he was fucking mad at! and it’s just such a well-executed, visceral scene, and it reveals so much about these characters without spelling anything out or really explaining anything at all.

[hughiecampbelle]

Random Headcanons About Baby Roy:

Warning/s: addiction, addiction mention, drugs, alcohol mention

A/N: I think about Baby Roy all the time, lol. I just love them. I thought some fun headcanons would be nice :) Based on these headcanons and this fic series!

Baby loves screamo. Anything and everything screamo. Also any alternative artist! The more raunchy, the better. Any car or room they're in, they're listening to it or humming it or playing it in their headphones. Everyone's come to expect it and ignore it as best they can. Especially Karl and Frank, they hate it. Gerri just shrugs. it's not hurting you or anyone else, leave it be

It absolutely drives Connor insane, especially when you and Roman gang up on him and recite verses. Roman doesn't love your music, but it's so worth it to watch your other siblings cringe and get all uncomfortable

"That d*ick tastes like yankee candl-" I love Ashnikko lol

"Y/n, please."

"You wanna hear a so-"

"No."

Baby unironically plays Where's My Juul?? by Lil Mariko in front of Connor who has no idea what a juul actually is lol

Baby has a wicked sweet tooth. Kendall's been sneaking them candy since they were little, but it seems like you always have something sweet. A lollipop, gumballs, gummy bears, etc.

"You'll get a cavity."

"This is my one vice, let me be."

Shiv is always holding out her hand for whatever you've got. She doesn't ask, she just expects it. You never mind, it's nice to share with her. Besides, it makes her feel like a little kid, too

Baby loves gory movies. Growing up, when all the kids were together, they'd have movie night. When it was your turn, you always chose the goriest thing you could find. Rome would sit with his hands over his eyes and Connor would hold a pillow, But you, Ken, and Shiv would be totally into it

"Just wait! His head gets ripped off!"

"This can't be appropriate."

Baby is actually very smart. Despite all the partying, their grades were perfect. Logan had no need to worry. Maybe you weren't showing up to class, but you were there for tests and that's all that mattered. You throw your intelligence in your brothers faces

"Can you even spell egotistical?"

You make endless jokes about your sobriety that none of them like except for Roman. The others shoot daggers at you with a look that says "not funny" You think it's funny though, and that's all that matters

"I'll be at the bar, you guys chat. Kidding! I was kidding, jeez."

"Does anyone else need a strong drink right about now?"

"They say the food is like crack, but I know crack and this isn't that."

"I used to take handfuls of pills to this song. Now look at me, I've become a monster."

Connor is horrified. Every time you say anything, he's speechless. Shiv gets very serious and Kendall spirals, but Rome likes it. If you can't joke about it, what good is it?

Baby has lots of tattoos and piercings. It's the only socially acceptable way to self harm that isn't drugs and alcohol. Logan hates them and Connor thinks they're unsightly, but you don't really care. Gerri always wants to see the new ones you got, though she prefers they be covered up in the office

"I like that one, that one's very cute."

"Thanks, Mommy."

She hates when you call her that. For you, your and Gerri's relationship, it's not at all sexual like it is with Roman. She is genuinely your mother figure. She is warm and caring and only wants the best from you. She can always tell when things are getting bad again

"Oh honey, you don't look so good."

"Mommy, I don't feel so good."

She really does love you. Someone has to. She knows your mother and Logan don't. Someone has to be there for you

Both Karl and Frank are afraid of you. Between the music, the addictions, the tattoos, the piercings, everything is intimidating to them. You're not competing like your siblings, that scares them the most. You want nothing to do with the company

"Think they're rabid?"

"Might be."

You love it, the way they always back away when you get too close, like you're demonic or infected

Baby, I think, would write a lot. Not just your feelings, which are so hard to put into words, but good things that happened, reasons to stay sober

You have a notebook or something that they use to write in. You've brought it to every rehab you've ever been to and constantly reread it over and over. No one knows about it, and if they notice, they don't bring it up. It's yours

Reasons To Stay Sober: Connor, Kendall, Shiv, Rome. Connor, Kendall, Shiv, Rome. Connor, Kendall, Shiv, Rome. Connor, Kendall, Shiv. . .

You have a sobriety birthday and every month you bake a cake. It always turns out shitty, lopsided, and burned and runny at the same time, but decorating it makes you feel like a kid again

You're always wearing your siblings clothes. You're always stealing someone's jacket or socks or shirt or sweater. You like it. It makes you feel close to them

They've just come to expect it

"You look better in that shirt than I do, keep it."

"I was going to anyways."

You have those moments of deep regret and embarrassment and self-consciousness that always end up in tears, but your siblings are there to pick up the pieces

Connor especially will just hold you as long as you need and listen to everything you have to get out

You feel so deeply sorry for hurting them and scaring them so much. You just wanted it to stop. You wanted not to he angry anymore

They tell you they understand, but you know they don't. Not really. They can't unless they've felt the way you have

Baby falls asleep on all the siblings. Even Roman will let them get away with it, but no one else. You snuggle into them and have the best sleep of your life

"Quit moving."

"Don't use me as a pillow, then."

You get away with (mostly) everything because you're their baby and they love you so much. They love you so much it's gross

Connor still prides himself on the way he raised you. There were bumps in the road, but you ended up perfect. Absolutely perfect

They all pride themselves on how they raised you. It wasn't always good, they weren't always there, but they're making up for all that now. Logan is gone. Slowly they're breaking the cycle, for you and for them

Things will get better. You've hit rock bottom so many times and always found a way out. This is that. This is your out

[jeniffercheck]

hairline fracture (is it me that you'd run after?)

shivlina oneshot: argestes, but have roman and shiv switch places -- set during 2x06 (argestes), shivlina are established affair partners, closely follows the canon of s2. CWs below the cut.

words: 9k

for @shivvroys as part of the shivcord winter fic exchange xx

read here or on ao3

cw for domestic violence & implied/referenced domestic violence. It is a prevalent theme throughout the entire fic & injuries are described quite a few times but it does not get graphic. the shown domestic violence does not stray from canon. please let me know if you think i've missed anything!

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Karolina grips her glass loosely, a lousy mix of the worst 2000s house beats and party guests shouting over the music reverberating through her ears. Shiv stares at Tom across the room, her eyes turning into something more of a scowl compared to Karolina’s entertainment.

“You’d think he’d have a little more tact than trying to get with a competitor,” Shiv says.

Shiv is obviously using a loose definition of the word competitor, the woman being some executive from a privately owned firm that Karolina can’t recall ever being involved in news or theme parks, but she laughs quietly at the comment, unable to ignore the irony in the complaint.

“The fact that he’d even consider speaking to another woman in public in a way that could even hint at a business deal—” Karolina says. “It’s horrifying.”

“Whatever,” Shiv says, taking a sip of her drink. “We’re different.”

“Because…” Karolina lets the word hang in a question, not one that she really needs an answer to, but one she’d like to indulge in anyway.

“Because, I don’t trust them,” Shiv says, finally tearing her eyes away from Tom. It’s the unsaid that Karolina revels in when she pokes and prods, this time around being that Shiv trusts her.

“Although—” Shiv starts.

“Here we go,” Karolina sighs, bracing her arms on the table for impact.

“At least Tom has the decency to laugh at everything she says,” Shiv looks over at the pair again, and Karolina follows her gaze, an animated Tom laughing obnoxiously at whatever the woman has just told him.

Karolina leans closer to Shiv and whispers delicately in her ear, “Maybe she’s just funnier than you.”

She bites back a smirk as Shiv looks at her again, eyes sharp and eyebrow quirked.

“You think I’m jealous,” she states.

Karolina shrugs. “Are you?”

“No,” Shiv says immediately. She rests an elbow on the table and leans her head into her hand, an insufferable smugness taking over her features. “There are more pressing matters in front of me.”

Karolina lets her hair fall in front of her face, if only to hide the growing redness from the eyes of the surrounding crowd. If anyone were to ask, she’d say it was the alcohol. If anyone were to know, well, they’d know that Shiv Roy has Karolina Novotney wrapped around her fucking finger; annoying conversations about her husband be damned.

“Glad you came?” Shiv asks.

While glad is certainly not the word that Karolina would use for her last-minute attendance at the Billionaire Boys Club annual reunion—waking up to the news that her employer has hundreds of accounts of heinous crimes and illegal cover-ups headed right to the press is really not her preferred way to start the work week—it’s always nice to spend time with Shiv in a place that doesn’t feel so shrouded in secrecy. Still, there’s work to do, whether she wants to have that conversation or not.

“I’ll be glad if we can make it through this panel in one piece,” she admits.

“Well,” Shiv says, suddenly agitated. “Take that up with Kendall and Roman.”

“I’ll be taking it up with all three of you tomorrow,” Karolina says. “I need you all on your best behavior.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Shiv says. “Regret, responsibility, and remedy. Condemn and move on. Are we missing anything? Maybe, daughter and doormat?”

Karolina frowns. She’d assumed Shiv’s being here was something she wanted—a strategy to stay in the game, not another instance of being walked over. Karolina lowers her voice, suddenly conscious of their position in the room, a pit of wandering eyes and ears.

“Shiv, I won’t let them make you the face for this, you know that, right?” she asks. “If it all goes crashing down—”

“You wouldn’t,” Shiv says, her expression softening. “But I can think of about ten other faces who would.”

“Every one of those faces would have to go through me,” Karolina affirms.

Shiv is weary in her silence, and despite her instincts, Karolina grabs her hand from underneath the table.

“It’ll be fine,” she says. “All of them know how integral it is to have a female voice on the panel tomorrow. We can’t have Rocket Man and Rape Me fronting a situation like this, can we?”

Shiv looks down, worrying her lip slightly.

“What is it?” Karolina asks.

“It just—” Shiv shakes her head, “It feels like I’m losing favor. This can’t go wrong.”

Although Karolina’s entire job is influencing public response—she’s not entirely clairvoyant. She can’t know what people are going to think about Shiv Roy stepping into the role of the spokesperson for a company she doesn’t work for without it looking entirely pandered, and she doesn’t know how it’s going to look internally—despite the fact that nobody’s opinion below the executive floor matters much anyway��but, she does know that this is a huge deal, and huge favor, and the people who really matter shouldn’t take it lightly. Shouldn’t is always the keyword.

“You’re ready,” Karolina says. “We’re going to murder board the hell out of you three tomorrow. You’ll have a response to everything. Just stick to the script.”

“Stick to the script,” Shiv says. She leans in closer, suddenly smirking, “Got any other scripts you want to show me?”

Karolina squeezes her hand and then drops it, biting back a smile as Shiv shifts in impatience.

“If this panel goes well, I might just think of something.”

If.

“You sure there aren’t any we can workshop right now?” Shiv asks. She lowers her voice. “I’d really like to see that murder board you mentioned.”

“No,” Karolina says, though she knows she doesn’t sound confident. “We’re getting up early tomorrow.”

“Oh, come on,” Shiv says. “You really want to spend the rest of the night watching Tom cockblock himself?”

“And here I thought I was in the clear of hearing about him for the rest of the night.”

“You know he’s been talking about buying a vineyard?” Shiv asks.

Karolina downs the rest of her drink.

“If I take you to my room, can we please stop talking about Tom?”

Shiv can’t hide her smile.

“Only one way to find out.”

—

Karolina isn’t sure how it starts.

From her perspective, the panel goes well. It’s not entirely what they planned, what, with three conflicting personalities sharing one stage, but it worked. They got the message across: Waystar is taking the matter seriously, and they’re not leaving it in the hands of the same kinds of people who buried it under the rug all those years ago. Simple, effective. Condemn and move on. Except, if there’s one thing about the Roy family, it’s that none of them know how to fucking move on.

She’s in the corner of the room with a few members of her team, working on their rapid response plan for once word of the panel inevitably gets out. She’s only half-listening when the siblings re-enter, unsurprisingly still arguing about the events onstage. It’s the usual, Kendall mad at Shiv, and Shiv mad at Kendall, and Roman instigating so it seems like he did anything at all, the conversation not grabbing Karolina’s attention when Marcia’s voice peaks out from the group, a scolding for Shiv, of all people.

Karolina makes her way to the other side of the room, but there’s a building chaos in the short walk and she knows she’s too late to calm any of them with positive public response or statistics. It’s several voices escalating in volume until Logan’s rises above them all, and then there’s a loud crack, and suddenly Roman’s holding Kendall back, a jumble of “Don’t fucking touch her!” and “What the hell, Dad?” and Gerri’s eyes are flitting between Logan’s and Karolina’s, a frantic sort of resolve seeping out of her as she asks, “It played well, right Karolina? They’re saying it played well.”

“It played well,” Karolina automatically confirms, her heart pulsing through her throat as she shifts her eyes on Shiv, hunched over and gripping the side of her face. She doesn’t know what to do with her hands as Kendall and Tom attempt to inspect the wound, a futile effort anyway as Shiv finally regains some composure.

“It’s fine—I’m fine,” Shiv says, dodging the flurry of worried arms and voices as she escapes the room. “Someone get him a fucking Quaalude.”

Broken bits of Shiv’s, now fallen, champagne glass crackle under Tom’s steps as he trails behind her, and it’s only a few seconds between the door slamming shut and Gerri taking charge. Marcia takes Logan away—where to, Karolina doesn’t want to know—and Karolina feels a light tugging on her elbow, and suddenly Gerri’s pulling her into a corner. Gerri looks annoyed, and Karolina wonders if it’s at all similar to the seething sort of rage that’s simmering around in her at what they were just forced to witness, or if it’s closer to inconvenience—another tally on Gerri’s shit-list that she’ll never actually do anything about.

Gerri searches her eyes and under the scrutiny, Karolina crosses her arms, if only to hide the light tremble that she knows is coursing through her hands. Gerri, knowing her better than anyone, knows this as well, reaching out and gripping Karolina’s forearm. She rubs her thumb soothingly up and down, a peace offering before the barking of orders.

“I need you here,” Gerri says softly. Karolina clears her throat.

“I’m here,” she says. Gerri looks guilty for a moment after she’s said it, and Karolina can imagine why, because this isn’t the first time they’ve been in this situation—Karolina troubled by the Logan of it all and Gerri silently pleading with her to keep it together for just another hour—and it’s not unlike the other times Gerri’s sent her the same apologetic regret, as if Karolina’s career at Waystar is something she should’ve stopped all those years ago rather than encouraged. She didn’t always understand it, Gerri’s self-imposed debt felt owed to Karolina, but she thinks she’s starting to now.

Shiv never would’ve been here today if it weren’t for her. She never would’ve been on that stage, saying those things, pissing Logan off enough to do that, if it weren’t for decisions that Karolina had made, had said were good, foolproof even. She’s at fault, a backhand by proxy that she can almost feel pulsing in her own knuckles—an apology she’ll never be able to fulfill, a regret she will never live down.

“I’m here,” she says again, if only to ground herself, and Gerri looks wary, but she nods anyway.

“Okay,” Gerri says, sighing. “Okay, just—go see if Tom needs any help. He still has appearances to make if it can be helped, so—”

“I’ve got it, Gerri,” Karolina says. “Comms will get started on Logan’s statement regarding the panel, if asked. Once that’s briefed, we need everyone on the same page.”

Gerri’s visibly relieved at Karolina’s assertiveness, and she uses that reaction to anchor herself further as Gerri squeezes her arm once more and returns to the leftover crowd, giving everyone firm orders as Karolina leaves the room.

She spots Tom a few halls down, knocking repeatedly on a door that’s clearly not going to be opened.

“Tom,” Karolina says, his worried gaze meeting hers. She doesn’t know what he knows, doesn’t know what he suspects, but he doesn’t look at her with the same kind of threatening contempt he usually does. Right now, it’s just concern. Karolina speaks low, not wanting to be heard through the door. “She say anything?”

Tom shakes his head. “Hasn’t said a word.”

“Okay,” Karolina sighs. “Look—obviously this is, extenuating, but Gerri is requesting that continue the conference as planned—”

“Karolina—”

“Tom—”

“I’m her husband,” he hisses, and they both freeze. Karolina doesn’t want to say it, doesn’t have to say what she is to Shiv, because it’s her hesitation and his response to it—that flash of recognition that if it were Tom, Shiv wanted, he would’ve been through that door already. She’d almost feel bad for him if he wasn’t actively keeping her from getting Shiv help. “Just—keep me in the loop.”

She waits until he’s gone to knock on the door.

“Shiv?” she calls out. “It’s just me.”

It’s a little while before the lock clicks, and Karolina opens the door carefully, unsure of what she’ll find. It’s not entirely unexpected—bloodied towels on the counter, a disheveled Shiv going back and forth between rinsing out her mouth and attempting to apply pressure—but Karolina doesn’t think any amount of bracing could’ve prepared her for the sight anyway. She locks the door behind her.

“Here to serve the gag order?” Shiv asks, and Karolina has enough humility left in her to feel ashamed that it’s not out of the realm of possibility. Still, she doesn’t dignify the comment with a response.

“To check on you,” she corrects. Shiv pauses in front of the sink, her hands resting on the porcelain bowl. The injured side of her face is hidden from Karolina’s view, and if it weren’t for the splotchy mascara and the red tint of Shiv’s nose, Karolina might not have known anything was wrong at all.

“He meant to hit Roman,” Shiv says, as if it makes the situation any better. Karolina’s not so sure it does, but Shiv sounds sure of it, as if the knowledge that the backhand was meant for someone else can somehow absolve her of experiencing it like she’s the one who got hit. But she was.

“Okay,” Karolina says, even though she doesn’t believe her, and she’s certain Shiv doesn’t either as she turns on the faucet, eyes focused fervently on her hands as she scrubs at imaginary filth. The blood is already gone, so it must be the feeling.

Karolina makes it about fifteen seconds into Shiv’s erratic scrubbing until she can’t watch any longer.

“Shiv,” she says calmly, placing a hand on Shiv’s back. Shiv falters slightly, tensing under Karolina’s touch but not stopping, scrubbing at her nail beds as if she’d spent the entire day digging. Sometimes it’s all Shiv seems to know how to do; dig until her fingertips are raw and her head’s gone too far under far too quickly for Karolina to keep up. By the time Karolina gets there, the hole’s been filled. Whatever Shiv has buried is deep, and whatever Karolina hopes to find will take a lengthy excavation of her own, but that’s usually. This time around, Karolina doesn’t have to search for what Shiv’s trying to bury. It’s red and it’s angry and it’s in the shape of a human hand across the side of Shiv’s face, and Karolina saw it happen. Shiv knows she saw it happen.

Karolina shuts off the faucet before she even really thinks about it, and Shiv pauses, her hands still hovering in the sink. Karolina reaches around her and grabs a clean towel, drying Shiv’s hands wordlessly. She’s surprised that Shiv lets her, surprised that Shiv hasn’t run off already, adamant that she doesn’t need this, that she doesn’t need Karolina, and she’s surprised when Shiv turns around, her arms crossed and thousand-yard stare piercing the entirety of Karolina’s gut. She can see the wound in full now, harsh on Shiv’s pale skin and only getting worse by the second.

And what can she say? I’m sorry he did that. I’m sorry he used you in the face of scandal and then got mad when you tried to make it better. I’m sorry that you were only doing what you were told. I’m sorry that I’m a part of it. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

How many times can she apologize for the things she can’t control? How many times will she have to look Shiv in the eye and apologize for being a bystander to it all anyway?

“Can I look?” she asks. She doesn’t think she has to; the sound of it was enough to know that the hit would leave a mark, and though it’s not a lot of blood, she wasn’t expecting as much as there actually is.

“Please?” she tries again, like Shiv would be doing her a favor. She thinks Shiv would be, because it’s Karolina at fault here—Karolina’s fault they said yes to the panel, her fault they even let Shiv on that stage—and Shiv lets out a deep, uneven breath and turns slightly, allowing Karolina access to the injury. She winces as Karolina pokes and prods, opens her jaw when Karolina asks her to open it, closes it when she asks her to close it. She discovers the main source of the blood—a loose molar and a chunk of skin missing from the inside of Shiv’s cheek, both of which feel terrible to call lucky, so she doesn’t call them anything at all.

She grabs the wet towel, slowly dabbing at Shiv’s face to clean the lingering mascara and blood, and Shiv closes her eyes, letting Karolina work.

“You did everything right,” Karolina eventually says, because she can’t bear to bring up blame.

“Doesn’t fucking feel like it,” Shiv mumbles.

“I know,” Karolina says. She sets the towel down, her hand coming to rest on the unharmed side of Shiv’s face, thumb grazing the soft skin lightly. Shiv opens her eyes, narrow and distant in the name of resolve, and it’s only a moment before the weight of it all catches up to her and takes her down. She drops her head into the crook of Karolina’s neck, her cries coming out like silent pleas to just make it fucking better, and Karolina doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to start helping beyond the logistical mess of it all.

If they started driving now, how fast could they get back to the city? Should they charter a helicopter instead? How long before the pain sets in Shiv’s brain catches up to the loose molar? How soon could they get something heftier than extra-strength aspirin? Should she take something non-drowsy? What if she has a concussion? Can she take a fucking horse tranquilizer? Is there something that can make her forget? Something that can send them back in time and do everything differently, change whatever’s allowed them to make it to this point?

She holds Shiv tighter, like maybe the more of her that’s touching Shiv, the better she can absorb all of the hurt and replace it with something else. Dull it, at the very least. She’s still unsure of what to say, the right things all seemingly evading her. The simple ones come to the forefront, like what you’d ask a child with a freshly skinned knee, screaming their head off in the middle of the street. Are you injured or are you shocked? But Karolina’s not a mother, and nobody ever bandaged up her scrapes and bruises. It’s a level of comfort she dreads being asked of, something she and Shiv had successfully avoided throughout their entire entanglement, but Shiv didn’t ask for this, and Karolina doesn’t think she’s ever really had anyone to bandage up her bumps and bruises either, so if Karolina is the person Shiv’s letting through that locked door, she’s going to do what needs to be done.

“Does it hurt?” she asks once it seems Shiv’s calmed down a little. She’ll do the job; she just never said it wouldn’t be done poorly.

“What do you think?” Shiv says, pulling away.

Karolina sighs, pulling out her phone. “We need to get you to a dentist.”

“No,” Shiv immediately says. “No—I’m not going to some fucking hokey emergency dentist out here in Bumfuck. I’ll go to my dentist in the morning.”

Karolina doesn’t have to do the math to know that’s far too long to sit with a loose tooth without any medical intervention. Beyond the possible concussion, or jaw injury, or infection risk—

“We need to get you checked out, Shiv,” Karolina says. She must sound serious, because it’s enough for Shiv to lock eyes with her, and it takes all of Karolina’s resolve to stay calm as the tears begin to pool in Shiv’s eyes again. Somehow, she holds her gaze, ignoring the light drum in her stomach when Shiv huffs, her eyes moving to the ceiling.

“As if this isn’t already humiliating enough,” Shiv mumbles. She looks back at Karolina, a wordless sort of pleading that Karolina doesn’t know how to say no to. “I just want to go, Karolina.”

Karolina grips her phone, swallowing down her concerns. She nods, knowing it’s not the time to pick a fight.

“Do you want to see Tom first?” Karolina asks. Normally, she’d be thrilled by Shiv's response. Right now, it’s just sad.

“No,” Shiv says.

“Shiv—”

“It’s fucking embarrassing,” Shiv whispers. “Okay? I just—I just want to leave.”

It’s the unsaid that Karolina clings onto, that somehow Karolina has positioned herself in a place where Shiv is comfortable, a place where the embarrassment is dulled and she’s free to feel, despite Karolina’s perceptions of herself, despite her job, despite her role in all of this, and she won’t let Shiv down. Helicopter, she’s decided.

“I’ll go talk to him and get the flight situated,” she says, but then she stops at the door.

“Shiv—” Shiv looks at her, and Karolina doesn’t know if this is the first time this has happened, if every strike that was meant for Roman actually went to him, or if this is just another occurrence on an itemized list of occurrences, but words sit at the tip of Karolina’s tongue, things she wishes someone had been around to tell her all those years ago, things she wishes she could have understood sooner, first time or not. “It’s not humiliating. It feels that way, but—they all care about you. They do, and they don’t think any less of you.”

Karolina leaves before Shiv has to come up with a response, and she’s grateful that their exile goes smoothly. In some twist of fate, Tom still has to show face at the conference, so she lets him feel useful by having him call in an emergency fill of a narcotic for the ride. She’s hedging her bets on no concussion, supported by the fact that Shiv hasn’t had any claim of a headache and by her refusal to even stop by the summit’s medical staff for a quick check-up. Shiv’s out by the time the helicopter is in the air, and Karolina tries multiple times to get some rest herself with no success, her eyes continuously drawn to the sleeping bundle of red hair on her shoulder, not in her lap because she dazedly agreed to at least wear the seatbelt on the flight if she was going to make Karolina commit fifty other acts of negligence in one night.

Shiv wakes drowsily when they land, and she gets her way in the car when Karolina lets her forgo the seatbelt in favor of resting her head in Karolina’s lap. Karolina spends the duration of the ride brushing her fingers through Shiv’s hair, careful not to touch the swollen skin as it stares up at her. She has the driver go straight to her apartment, because she doesn’t know where to go, but Karolina’s place seems like the safer option, away from prying eyes, away from Tom.

Karolina knows they’ve been distant lately, half of her conversations with Shiv filled with verbose rants over him. If she were Tom, she’d feel pretty shitty right now, but she can’t blame Shiv. It’s hard to seek comfort from someone who’s got one hand in yours and the other in the one that hit you. She’s not entirely sure what makes her different from Tom in this case; they both know that if what happened tonight leaks it’ll be Karolina crafting the narrative, it’ll be Karolina reminding the world that Logan Roy is a tremendous father and while he’s been recovering smoothly, we’d all do well to remember what a strain the past year has been on Mr. Roy’s health.

A confused old man accidentally hits his daughter. It’s a tale so old she actually thinks it might be better for the Roy family if it did leak, tugging on the heartstrings of the American public in the midst of a scandal. See? They’re victims too. All of them. Then, the car runs over a hefty pothole just a block down from Karolina’s building and Shiv winces deeply in her half-slumber, the pads of her fingers digging lightly into Karolina’s thigh, and Karolina regrets thinking it at all.

Maybe that’s the difference; if Karolina were to dig deep, she’d be one hand in Shiv’s and one hand adjacent to Logan’s, and right now, the hand that’s adjacent to Logan is full of a shaking kind of vitriol that she doesn’t think Tom could ever stomach holding over him. Condemn and move on. How can Karolina move on from this? The thing that isn’t, finally in front of their faces, and splattered across Shiv’s in shitty red splotches.

When they pull up in front of Karolina’s building, she drags her feet waking Shiv up. Her doorman gets their bags, and she waits until she imagines he’s about halfway to her front door when she starts kneading her hand into Shiv’s arm, murmuring a soft, “We’re here,” as she does so. Shiv stirs slowly, and Karolina instantaneously feels bad as Shiv’s brows furrow, her whole body tensing up in Karolina’s lap. That means it hurts, and there’s not much else they can do about it at this hour.

“Can you make it up?” Karolina asks, silently hoping that the answer is yes, because the only other alternative is Karolina tipping her doorman to carry Shiv up, and she isn’t so sure which one of them would hate that more.

“Yeah,” Shiv says, her voice nearly sick with pain as she slowly rises from Karolina’s lap.

Karolina steps out of the car first, relieved when the change in lighting seems to have no effect on Shiv. She holds out a hand and Shiv takes it, eyes hanging low as they make their way up to Karolina’s apartment. When they get in, Shiv’s got the bathroom first, Karolina digging around in her medicine cabinet for anything they can mix with what Shiv’s already taken.

Her mind wanders to how normal it is, Shiv’s toothbrush hidden in a drawer, Shiv’s extra clothes with their own shelf in Karolina’s closet, the side of Karolina’s bed that grows colder every night she spends alone. It feels normal, except Karolina’s rummaging around in her medicine cabinet to find a suitable secondary painkiller so Shiv doesn’t spend the entire night writhing in pain because her father nearly knocked her teeth out. Karolina takes a deep breath as she pours out a dose. Her phone lights up out of the corner of her eye every few minutes, likely texts from Gerri and emails from her assistant, and she puts it in her pocket without glancing at the screen, taking the pills and a cup of water to the bathroom.

She finds Shiv with a clean face, inspecting the damage under the harsh light. She sets the water and the pills on the counter, engulfing Shiv in a hug from behind. Shiv instinctively closes her eyes, leaning some of her weight against Karolina as they stand there. Karolina finally has a better look at the fully bloomed wound as well, Shiv’s skin a myriad of different colors trailing from her jawline toward her cheekbone. The worst is on the lower half, swollen slightly, no doubt in part due to the loose tooth. Karolina wishes she were good for anything more than damage control, better at anything other than closing doors and sweeping under rugs, but reasons that’s maybe what Shiv does need—someone to help her clean up the mess.

“Take these,” Karolina says, holding the pills in front of Shiv. Shiv sighs as she grabs them from Karolina, not meeting her eyes through the mirror, and she washes them down with a wince that Karolina assumes is downplayed based on the fact that Shiv didn’t even open her jaw wide enough to let anything more than the pills in. Karolina tries not to dwell on it. She kisses Shiv’s unharmed cheek lightly, and Shiv squeezes one of Karolina’s hands before escaping the embrace to go into the bedroom.

Karolina takes her time as she cleans up, somewhat selfishly she feels as she listens to Shiv rummaging through drawers all alone in her bedroom. It’s not the violence itself that’s still making her hands a little too clammy and her heart beat a little too fast, maybe more so the reminder. It’s like you’d ask a child, are you injured or are you shocked? Karolina would venture to say shocked. Fathers hitting their daughters, a tale as old as time, but it’s not so much a tale when it’s right in front of her. And now it’s in her home. It’s snuck its way under her door frame and into her bed, and it feels somewhat like the first time, a ripe eight-years-old and powerless as her mother cries, so confused as to why any of this is happening at all and terrified to so much as make a move, might she make it all worse somehow. In this case, the only thing she can do is keep moving, keep going forward in the event that something she does can make it better.

Shiv is already in bed by the time she returns to the bedroom, drowning in one of Karolina’s old sleep shirts, and she shakes off the feeling of yet another thing being tainted—her bed, her mirror, her shirt, her pillow, her Shiv. It doesn’t feel fair to say, because Shiv has always been wounded and it’s never changed much. She’s always walked around with a gaping hole in her chest whether she ever wanted anyone to notice or not, but the difference now is that she can’t hide it, and Karolina can’t choose to not look at it.

She climbs in bed next to Shiv, careful not to disturb her too much as she settles down, unsure of how close she’s wanted, but Shiv immediately leans back into Karolina and she assumes she’s wanted plenty, dropping a light kiss to the crown of Shiv’s head.

“How does it feel?” she asks.

“It’s bearable,” Shiv says, and bearable doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt, so Karolina just smooths Shiv’s hair, waiting for Shiv to fall asleep.

—

Shiv doesn’t talk about it. Not really. She wakes up the next morning and she makes an emergency dentist appointment, and she doesn’t even ask Karolina to go with, not in those words entirely, but she does say they’ll likely have to put her under, and Karolina doesn’t have to think twice before saying that she’ll call the driver and go with, just in case.

It’s a uniquely infuriating kind of feeling, having Shiv curled up on her couch with perpetually teary eyes and an ice pack hiding a mess of bruising that had only gotten worse overnight. Karolina had felt sick when she woke up and saw it, as if she’d been tricking herself into believing it wasn’t as hard of a hit as it actually was, a lighter bruising even pooling under her eye.

Karolina’s grateful that it’s a scheduled travel day for the executive team, hoping the pseudo-day off will give her the time to figure out how she’s going to face Logan when she returns to the office. How she’s going to pretend that Shiv doesn’t mean anything to her this time around, that her loyalty is to Waystar and by extension Logan, and that his image her top priority even though every time she thinks about him the only thing she can see is her own father’s backhand racing down for a strike. She knows it’s a mess of her own making. No one gave her the handbook, but she saw the signs, and she stayed. She welcomed it into her life and made herself a part of it. She tricks herself. She lets Logan yell at her until her legs feel like Jell-O and her tongue is crawling down the inside of her own throat and then an hour later, she laughs about it by the coffee cart as if it’s just all just some small misunderstanding. They all do it, they downplay and they pretend, because it’s easier than dealing with the truth.

Even now, molar hanging on by a literal thread, any emotion Shiv’s carried over from the night previous has been replaced with an it’s fine, it’s not that bad, and Karolina knows that’s what Shiv is accustomed to. Knows that Shiv shutting her eyes tight and talking as normally as she can through a tight and swollen jaw while on the phone with Tom is all she knows how to do. To satiate everyone else completely. Forget that it’s a big deal, just move on.

Karolina doesn’t understand how not to make this a big deal, but she doesn’t want to make it more difficult for Shiv. She doesn’t shove another ice pack in Shiv’s face when she gets off the phone, doesn’t question why the pills she left out are sitting untouched on the nightstand, doesn’t even bother to tease Shiv over wearing another item of clothing from Karolina’s closet like she normally would; she barely wants to breathe, afraid to mess up whatever semblance of equilibrium is left in Shiv’s orbit in case anything at all turns out to be the last straw.

She briefly wonders if it’s worse this way, dancing around the hard truth that Shiv Roy is a human, not immune to having pierceable skin and breakable bones, but she figures this is how Shiv wants it; downplayed. If Shiv doesn’t take a pill, then Karolina doesn’t have to know that it hurts.

The only thing is that Karolina does know that it hurts. She can feel the sharp pain that splinters from the hinge of her jaw to the base of her neck. Understands the earache, the weary, tired eyes, the persistent taste of iron in her mouth, and the way that everything seems to move a little slower, feel a little less real. She knows so much yet so little, because she’s not inside Shiv’s mind and she can’t tell what Shiv’s thinking, so she doesn’t hover. She just does what she’s asked, and she does what she can, and she doesn’t pressure Shiv into doing what she can’t.

She ignores the too-pale hands that clutch around her arm on the way down to the car, doesn’t pull out her phone when it buzzes a dozen different times because she doesn’t want Shiv to see all the names of the people who have let her down in the last thirty-two years as they come up on her caller-id, and puts on her most dazzling smile inside the dentist’s office as Shiv recounts the story that’s caused her ailment; an embarrassing tumble during some turbulence on the private jet. I should’ve listened to the stewardess—guess it’s one way to make time for the dentist, right?

Karolina makes sure to write the cover story down in her notes. It’s not the first she’s ever had on file for a Roy, and it’s not even the first that’s left her feeling wrong and wondering if she’s ever had any morals to begin with, but it is the first that she can’t reason with. She can’t decipher a why she’s doing it at all, the only lingering explanation is that it’s for Shiv. She’s doing what Shiv wants. What Shiv needs. She recalls Shiv’s quiet confidence walking into the examination room with the dentist, like she hadn’t been squeezing Karolina’s hand up to the very point that the car door opened outside the building, and she wonders what else she’s missed, how many other things she’s allowed Shiv to shrug off without question.

She swallows down the thought, settling into the private waiting room that she imagines the hokey dentist in Bumfuck wouldn’t have had. She pulls out her phone, searching for one voice on the other end of the line.

“Prognosis?” Gerri asks. Karolina’s relieved to hear her voice, relieved to hear anything beyond Shiv’s pain-induced silence and her own racing thoughts. She can hear fading voices in the background of Gerri’s end, meaning they’re likely not on the road yet.

“That we don’t get paid enough,” Karolina can’t stop herself from saying, even though she knows deep down that at this point, there’s no world where her debt with Shiv requires any payment at all. Because wasn’t it just a few weeks ago that she was wiping blood from Kendall’s nose? Getting him blow because even though they all know he should be the last person contacting shareholders, she did it anyway? She’s a cacophony of transactions, but she’s losing sight of a number that excuses any of it. Gerri sighs on the other end.

“Negotiations are off,” she says.

Karolina knows it’s wrong that her immediate reaction is satisfaction, because she also knows how much this is going to impact the shitstorm that’s already clouding each of them, but she can’t help it. It feels like some sort of check and balance in the name of a restorative justice that will never be served, and she holds onto it. It’s something.

“And the article?” Karolina asks. Gerri makes no note of the fact that it’s Karolina’s job to know.

“We’re moving to internal investigations,” Gerri says. “We’ll be outsourcing a firm—no word yet on who our lucky match will be.”

“Great,” Karolina says, and even though it’s a private room, she still speaks lower. “Your bases are covered, right?”

“Blindsided by the article,” Gerri feigns. It’s another painful reminder of who they are and what they do, and though Karolina was blindsided, a part of her always knew. The rumors about cruises were inescapable in the PR department and there are no rumors at Waystar that come without basis.

“I don’t know when I’ll be in the office, but there’s no official communication that doesn’t go through me,” Karolina says. “We have enough messes.”

She hates to refer to her current predicament as a mess, because it’s nothing she feels burdened to clean up. Nobody’s forcing her to sit in this dentist's office, and certainly nobody’s forcing her to open her apartment doors, and her bed sheets, and her top left dresser drawer, but she can’t say that. Not even to Gerri.

“How’s our archeologist?” Gerri asks.

“Undergoing a root canal,” Karolina says. “They can save the tooth, so, some good news, I guess.”

“Good,” Gerri says. Karolina can hear papers shuffling in the background, and she’s dreading the amount of catch-up she’s going to have to do just from missing one day in the office. “Where’s her head at?”

“I think she’d like to pretend it never happened,” Karolina admits. Shiv hasn’t said it yet, but she can’t imagine this being the hill that Shiv Roy would choose to die on. Gerri hums on the other end, and Karolina can guess how the rest of the trip is going. She can only hope someone did actually get Logan a fucking Quaalude.

“Logan would be pleased with that,” Gerri says, and even though she says it sarcastically, the sentiment alone is enough to crack Karolina’s outward indifference.

“Well, as long as Logan’s pleased,” she snipes. Gerri’s silent on the other end for a moment and Karolina waits for the usual lecture, that Karolina cares too much and you’re not their babysitter, Karolina, just do what’s in your purview and nothing more, which is always cheap talk coming from Gerri anyway, but it doesn’t come.

“And how’s your head?” Gerri asks.

Karolina sighs, running a hand over her eyes. They both know this call was never about business. “Haven’t had any complaints, Ger.”

“Very funny,” Gerri says, and Karolina can’t find it in herself to be too satisfied, but she can picture the look of fond disdain in Gerri’s silence, and she finds a little bit of comfort in the image. “Seriously, Karolina…if you need the cavalry to step in—"

“It’s fine, Gerri,” Karolina says. “I’m fine.”

Because Gerri knows. She’s heard the stories and she’s seen the remnants herself. She’s the first pair of eyes on Karolina the second Logan’s a little too aggressive and the first voice in her ear when she thinks Karolina’s about to crack, but it’s different this time. It’s not about her, it’s about being there for Shiv.

“She’s not your responsibility,” Gerri finally says. It’s an act of protection, Karolina knows this, and she can rationalize Gerri’s point of view—Karolina inserting herself into a ticking time bomb of a family, putting herself right at the center of something she’s spent her entire adult life trying to escape—but Karolina had never done anything to earn Gerri’s protection. It was something Gerri decided on, something she felt she could give, and it shouldn’t be any different for Karolina. Gerri’s right, Shiv isn’t her responsibility, but Karolina still owes her something. There’s a sense of security that Shiv is now cashing in. If Karolina were to break that, what would it make her?

“I think we both know that’s not true,” Karolina replies.

Gerri doesn’t have anything to say to that.

—

Karolina’s created an entire action plan for monitoring news about cruises and drafted up about four different press releases by the time Shiv gets out (her favorite is the one where she’s announcing Hugo’s retirement).

Shiv seems to be in a lot less pain after the procedure, hunkering down on Karolina’s couch as soon as they get back to the apartment. Karolina’s still trying her best not to hover, but there’s also a part of her that can’t settle down, so she compromises by sitting on the couch adjacent to Shiv and opens her laptop for the first time in over twenty-four hours. She forwards the action plan to her team for review and does a few indirect searches regarding Waystar and the news. It’s not as bad as she was fearing. There’s a bit of a rocky perception from the conference that’s mostly shrouded in inconsistent messaging, but it’s nothing she can’t work with.

It’s a while before Shiv stirs, and Karolina doesn’t take the time for granted, ordering soft groceries and panic-searching everything she can about root canals and molar splinting and if there’s somehow still a risk of concussion even though it’s been a full twenty-four hours and Shiv has never even once complained about a headache.

She left a pair of pills out on the coffee table, a light prescription from the dentist should Shiv need it, and she pretends not to watch when Shiv finally sits up and analyzes the display as Karolina types away. Shiv takes them, Karolina glad that she’s no longer participating in whatever emotionally charged abstinence she was displaying earlier in the day. Shiv leaves the room wordlessly, and Karolina distracts herself with work while she waits for Shiv to return, careful to listen out for any signs that might make her needed. She’s about to give in and check on Shiv when she appears back in the living room, a pillow from Karolina’s bed in her hand, and she lays down right up against Karolina. Karolina instinctively drops a hand in Shiv’s hair, scratching lightly as Shiv gets comfortable again.

“You need anything?” Karolina asks.

“Just this,” Shiv says quietly. “And to not have wires poking my cheeks like I’m fucking fourteen.”

“I can only help with one of those things, unfortunately,” Karolina says, brushing back a lock of hair.

“Really?” Shiv hums. “You’re supposed to be a fixer.”

It’s not meant to be a jab, but Karolina can’t help the way it hits her. Fixing something like this is out of her depth, no matter how much she wishes it wasn’t.

“How’s the rest of it?” Karolina asks. The dentist checked out Shiv’s jaw, figuring it was most likely just sore from the hit, but did refer Shiv to a specialist in case there are any lasting issues. Karolina, naturally, is on edge about the possibility of another complication, but Shiv doesn’t need that from her. She needs reassurance, a strong hand to hold. Not shaky.

“Hurts,” Shiv says. “Maybe Dad’s true calling was the ring.”

Shiv can’t see Karolina, so she doesn’t even attempt feigned amusement. She doesn’t think that’s what Shiv was going for anyway, what, with the deadpan tone and the fully deepened bruise. It’s then, that Shiv’s phone rings from the coffee table. They both look at it, Dad, popping up in big bright letters on the caller ID. Shiv’s knuckles pale as her hand clenches into a tight fist, her thumbnail worrying itself into the skin of her fingers.

“You don’t have to answer it,” Karolina reassures. Shiv nods, digging a hand into her eyes. She must hit her bad eye the wrong way, because she yelps out in pain before her entire body goes rigid under Karolina’s hand.

“What is it?” Karolina asks worriedly, sitting up. Shiv exhales slowly, her body releasing some of the tension as she does so, but her face still clearly expressing the discomfort she must be feeling as she attempts to breathe through the pain.

“I just—moved too fast,” Shiv says.

“Okay,” Karolina says. “That’s okay, let’s just take it easy. I’m going to get some ice.”

Shiv nods and Karolina carefully gets up, once again pushing back the immediate concern that comes with Shiv not denying care. She returns to the living room with the ice pack and kneels in front of the couch, brushing a thumb across Shiv’s forehead as she hands it over. Shiv hesitantly holds it against the side of her face, and Karolina continues to brush Shiv’s hair, waiting patiently for her breathing to return to a normal pattern, and she’s relieved when it does.

“Why don’t we get comfortable in bed?” Karolina asks, and Shiv shakes her head lightly right away.

“No,” Shiv says. “Can we—will you stay here?”

“Of course,” Karolina says. It’s not often Shiv asks her for anything—she’s barely asked anything of Karolina throughout this entire ordeal—and even if she did, Karolina would never say no. “I’m wherever you want me.”

She gets back on the couch, and Shiv settles against her once more. Karolina draws light patterns along her side, only pausing when her laptop dings with an email, and she closes it before they have to hear any more.

“I’m sorry,” Shiv says, her voice thick with exhaustion.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Karolina says. “And you don’t have to talk to me right now, either.”

“It’s fine, I just—forgot about my eye,” Shiv says. Forgot. As in, Shiv’s not used to having shiners that she has to be careful not to touch, and she shouldn’t be. She shouldn’t even have one to be careful with in the first place. Karolina tries not to dwell on that part of the conversation, doesn’t want her anger to seep through the comfort that she’s supposed to be supplying.

“Just, don’t push it, Shiv,” she ends up saying.

“That’s my big skill, Kay,” Shiv says. Karolina’s heart lurches at the nickname, Shiv’s voice far too frail and far too defeated.

“You did what was asked of you,” Karolina says. What I asked of you. “You tried to make things better.”

“I don’t even know why I did,” Shiv says. “I should’ve just let Kendall have his fucking moment.”

“With that plausible deniability bullshit?” Karolina asks. “You said some hard truths, Shiv. That isn’t a crime.”

And the punishment certainly didn’t fit the bill.

“Still, I should’ve known better,” Shiv argues lightly.

“Should’ves won’t get you anywhere,” Karolina says. “You could’ve read a script Logan had written himself, and this still would’ve happened.”

Shiv is silent as she mulls over the words. They both know Karolina’s right, that nothing is good enough for Logan Roy unless it’s his words coming out of his own mouth. Shiv removes the ice pack and Karolina reaches out to put it on the table for her. She intertwines their hands, shivering slightly at how cold Shiv’s is.

“I don’t know where to go from here,” Shiv eventually says. “What to say to him.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Karolina tells her. “This isn’t your mistake to fix.”

“You don’t know what it’s like with him. Everything is our fucking fault.”

“I know what it’s like—”

“To work for him,” Shiv interrupts. “Not to have him as a dad.”

Karolina brings Shiv’s hand to her lips gently. Shiv’s skin still smells like the lavender body wash she likes to steal out of Karolina’s bathroom, and it’s nothing like blood, or sweat, or angry fathers.

“I had my own dad, Shiv,” Karolina says. “Nothing was ever good enough for him, either.”

Shiv stills, her fingers fidgeting in Karolina’s hand.

“I mean, but did he…” Her voice trails off, but Karolina doesn’t have to work very hard to figure out what the question is supposed to be.

“He did,” Karolina says quietly. “And thinking about everything that I should’ve done—it never made anything better. There’s no world where he wanted to be anything other than what he was. It took me a long time to accept that.”

Shiv sits up and Karolina meets her troubled eyes with a calm gaze. Shiv looks her up and down as if she’s inspecting her, like she can’t quite imagine the Karolina she knows ever having any man-made imperfections. Karolina knows when a light scar catches Shiv’s eye, remnants of a thinly split brow in ’98, one that’s difficult to notice unless you’re searching. It was a humiliating affair that left her facing reality for the first time when she was a doe-eyed intern at Waystar and a certain member of the legal department who’d taken her on as some sort of mentee inquired why she came back from the Thanksgiving holiday roughed up. Karolina said she had brothers; her background check didn’t add up.

(Then came a small note on the inside of her planner reading that she’d have to get better at cover-ups if she wanted a future in PR. The next half was an address, and an open invitation for the winter holiday should she choose not to spend it with her brothers.)

Shiv brushes her thumb across the scar, faded and not Karolina’s biggest takeaway from that period of her life, and Karolina grabs the hand, bringing Shiv’s knuckles to her lips once more. Shiv’s eyebrows are furrowed in a pitiful sort of sadness that she doesn’t mind too much coming from Shiv. Coming from someone who understands.

“What are you thinking?” Karolina asks.

Shiv shakes her head lightly and sniffs. “That I’m tired of this bullshit,” she says, attempting to keep the tears at bay. “That I don’t know if I can walk away.”

Karolina takes a deep breath, attempting to not let the conversation get to her the way it feels like it is, poking and prodding at her gut.

“You don’t have to,” Karolina says. “You don’t have to do anything. All of it, it’s your choice.”

“But you walked away?” Shiv asks, as if Karolina has the right answer. She wishes she did.

“Shiv, my father…there was no room for conversation,” Karolina says, unable to control the slight shake in her voice. “If I kept going back—”

She doesn’t like to think about it, the way his anger kept building the less it seemed she needed him. Just like she doesn’t indulge in should’ves, she doesn’t like to think about the what ifs. Staying just wasn’t an option.

Logan seems to carry the same propensity for rage, but with a level of regret that sucks everyone back in. She doesn’t know what she would do in Shiv’s position either; it’s not hard to go back to someone who understands that they’re supposed to say sorry. And maybe that’s why she’s put up with Logan for so long herself. It’s nice to imagine a father who knows what he does is wrong, even if that doesn’t make it right.

“I’m sorry you went through that,” Shiv says, but the words sound wrong coming out of her mouth.

“I’m sorry, too,” Karolina says. Then a nagging question appears on her tongue, one that’s been eating away at her from the moment she stepped into that bathroom. “You said—that he meant to hit Roman?”

Shiv looks away then, as if guilty of something.

“He wouldn’t—I mean, it wasn’t often, but he—” Shiv stumbles through her words. “I mean, we were kids. It wasn’t like this. It wasn’t me.”

Her voice cracks at the end, and Karolina gently pulls Shiv into her, holding her tightly. She can imagine how confusing it must be, to go your whole life feeling some sort of distance from the violence, even if it was occasional. It’s not like Shiv has been spared any of Logan’s mind games, but even then, there’s a level of comfortability that she most likely reached in it. Whatever her normal was with Logan, he destroyed that.

“Have they just been carrying this with them their entire lives?” Shiv asks.

It’s a loaded question, one Shiv deserves an honest answer to. Karolina doesn’t like to believe it’s something she’s always carrying. It’s there, and it affects her in ways she wishes it didn’t, but she doesn’t think it has total control. She laughs, and she cries, and she still can’t stand the scent of Lucky Strike Reds without it making her skin itch a little, but she loves the scent of the Marlboros Shiv loves to pull out at the end of a long and drunken night at a Waystar event. It’s give and take, things come and go, but she’s still her, regardless of what she’s carrying and how much.

“Shiv, it all fucking sucks. Whether he’s spitting your name or spitting in your face,” Karolina says. She rubs a comforting thumb along Shiv’s arm. “Haven’t you already been carrying things your entire life, too?”

The question brings a discomfort to Shiv that she can Karolina immediately. It’s not normally her place to point out the flaws in Shiv’s upbringing, and it’s not a topic they’ve ever broached until tonight, but it needed to be pointed out. Shiv thinks this is the first time she’s suffered under Logan’s hand. Karolina would argue that Shiv doesn’t know what it’s like to not suffer under him.

“What do you think I should do?” Shiv asks, ignoring Karolina’s question. Karolina hates when Shiv does this, when she looks at Karolina like she has all the answers. Like whatever thing she’s about to say is an absolute that Shiv will let herself be ruled by, despite acting like she doesn’t ever really want anyone’s input at all. That’s where her responsibility lies, in being honest with Shiv. She thinks Shiv knows that, or at least, Karolina hopes she does.

“I think that wounds heal and scars fade,” Karolina says, piecing together her thoughts. “I think…that your father isn’t someone who’s going to change, but I think he might say that he’s sorry. It’s not a bad thing, if you’re willing to let it go. It’s not a bad thing if you can’t forget it, either.”

“I’m tired of being terrified of him,” Shiv whispers through a teary breath.

“I know,” Karolina says.

“If—if I walk away,” Shiv swallows, “What happens to this?”

This. Karolina’s not even sure she can define what this is in the current moment, but she can still recall her life without Shiv in it, and Karolina knows one thing is certain.

“Absolutely nothing will change.”

[kencoded-kengirl]

LOOOOOOL KRANK THAT SOULJA BOY 🔥💯 LMFAOOOO OLD MAN YAOI frank is every bit as bad as stewy is with kendall when it comes to logan. he can only see the nice parts. he knows logan isn’t a good man or even a good father but he’ll love him forever anyway. he could get fired a hundred thousand times and he wouldn’t know how to stay away. that’s how they are. he hates caroline because logan pays her so much attention. he hates marcia because logan trusts her so much. even, sometimes, he hates gerri, because logan wanted her like a lover and he’ll never, ever, want frank that way, no matter how long he waits or how much he parents logan’s children. and gerri is so ungrateful for it. she doesn’t even want his attentions, how can that be? it’s like logan doesn’t think anything of him anymore, even though when they were twenty-eight, logan would tell him everything.

he would tell him about uncle noah and keep telling him until his voice got scratchy and his chest got tight, which was something he usually only did with women he had become obsessed with. of course that made frank feel special, even though he knows it can never mean anything. he’ll never be logan’s real wife, or kendall’s real father, or ceo. logan has always known there was something strange about him, something queer, something that prevents him from being more than just loyal confidante and underling. does anyone ever tell you guys that you’re kind of obsessed with him? karl asks, new blood in the legal department, and gerri and frank glance at each other. he’ll learn soon enough.

he doesn’t, though. karl is always so placid with logan, nodding along when he’s bullied, smiling flatly, being just funny enough. he does his job and doesn’t get made into anybody’s godfather. frank waits for thirty years for something to change, but, in a way, the four of them are mountains, and thirty years is not enough. frank is sitting in the cabin of an airplane, staring at gerri, who is staring at karl, who is staring at him. for gerri, god is dead in the next cabin over. for frank, the realization that every minute he lives now will be without logan is dawning. karl is thinking absently of who might be made interim ceo. frank feels like he might have been sitting with the two of them in this airplane since he was twenty-eight.

no one spirals. it’s too obvious to do that. the kids need them. the company needs them. karolina needs them. and they’ve always had each other as a constant comfort, even if they’ve never been anything more. at matsson’s retreat, frank takes one look at the sauna and says, good luck getting me in that thing. karl says, i can’t agree more. the kill list feels far away and meaningless as they sit together, breathing in the cold air, laughing at hugo in the same way they’ve been doing together for ever and ever. the grief feels almost meaningless, too.

little shiv, who used to sit at the end of the long dining table in the hamptons doing summer school and tell frank every detail of her life because roman and kendall think they’re too grown-up for me, now, asks them at the funeral how bad was dad? frank can’t answer honestly. karl’s honesty is too dry. she walks away. when she does, karl brushes his knuckles against frank’s, and even though they never tried this once in thirty years of being in each other’s business, frank knows without having to be told that he’s supposed to tangle their fingers together and hold on tight.

maybe they should have cared more about the kill list, though. tom fires them. he has to. he does it together, the three of them in logan’s office, killing two birds with one stone. it hurts frank more than logan’s death did, and it’s the best thing that ever happened to karl. the two of them are standing side-by-side outside of the temple that is waystar, waiting for their drivers to take them away for the last time. did we ever meet up outside of work? karl asks, because he actually can’t remember. when was the last time either of us did something outside of work? frank counters, and karl chuckles. you wanna give it a try? frank does want to give it a try. he’s forgotten what it’s like to spend an evening without one of logan’s children, or mistresses, or siblings, or apprentices, or disciples within his line of sight. somehow, karl has completely avoided becoming any of these things.

the house in the country is many times too large for two. frank reads shakespeare in the sunroom and drinks tea. karl walks in and says, can we go to the pond tomorrow? and frank says, no, i’m meeting kendall for breakfast tomorrow. karl doesn’t roll his eyes. okay, can we go to the pond on wednesday? the ducks will miss us, karl tries again. you make me feel old, frank says, happily.

you gave him too much credit, says karl, finally, on wednesday, tossing stale bread into the duck pond. you never gave him enough, says frank. i didn’t have to. he was just my business partner, says karl. and he was the love of my life, frank says, but in saying it, he’s proving it wrong. logan would never have fed the ducks with him, or encouraged frank to idolize him less. FROG AND TOADDDD 🔥🔥🔥😂😂🔥 LMFAO COMPRESSION SOCKS

[teamkenbaby]

k i’ve been trying to articulate this in the right way for a while. but i feel like after last episode, i’m going to try.

a recurring theme of succession is the cyclical nature of abuse and history and with that comes the popular fan theory that the ending for the three youngest roy siblings following the pattern of logan and his siblings, rose and ewan.

so with that, i’ve been trying to decide if that were to happen, who would be who. and i’ve come up with multiple scenarios:

kendall as rose - death

the easiest option for a sibling to die is ken. not saying i want this (DEFINITELY NOT) nor believe it (i think it might be too easy)

with that you get two options:

shiv as logan and roman as ewan or

shiv as ewan and roman as logan

HOWEVER ANOTHER SCENARIO THAT I THINK WOULD BE ALMOST MORE TRAGIC IS

roman as rose - death

i think roman presents as an interesting case to be the sibling that dies because it would be the end result of logan’s lifelong abuse towards him and even noah’s abuse of logan. roman’s death would also complete kendall’s and shiv’s arcs. hear me out, if roman dies (out of guilt for his dad, sadness, or something else), it would destroy both ken and shiv, but in different ways. roman’s death would serve almost as a catalyst for both: kendall to fully leave waystar behind and become a cynic of the world for taking away his little brother, someone who he wanted to protect. and for shiv, it would reaffirm her drive to be the ceo because she wouldn’t be able to focus on roman’s death without it destroying her. rather she would put that energy into work and being the best. so with kendall’s arc throughout the series, we see him struggle with being the chosen son, juggling his family’s wants versus his needs. but with roman’s death and his dad gone, he would finally be able to walk away. to get out. while shiv’s arc, on the other hand, has been her struggle to gain power as a woman. she is as good, maybe even better, than logan at waystar but people don’t respect her because she is logan’s daughter rather than son. but with her brothers out of the picture, that clears the path for her reign to begin.

so all together, there is only one way it goes if roman dies:

shiv as logan and kendall as ewan

in no situation do i see shiv being rose or kendall being logan because that’s not in their character. shiv is too much of a dynamic character rather than a tragic one for me to see her as rose. and with kendall, the whole reason he hasn’t been able to become (permanent) CEO is because he isn’t like logan. those self hating and self destructive tendencies make it incredibly difficult for ken to become like logan.

ultimately, i think this next episode is CRUCIAL for predictions on the rest of the season. and in reality, i want none of them to die and instead, for them to all be happy running waystar and i guess pierce?? together. with romangerri and shiv in her satisfied, content single era and kenstewy.

ps i might be completely wrong in everything i just wrote but just my thoughts

[tyranasauruslex]

i love your christmas dinner prompt and now i’m thinking about kenromeshiv dinner but lukas actually wants to join (or them pushing roman to bring lukas too)

I think it would take a good long while before Roman even entertains the idea of bringing Lukas along to a sibling dinners. Mostly because he can’t trust any of them, Lukas included, to behave themselves around each other, nor does he want his relationship to be put under the microscope. That is until Lukas gives him the sad Swedish puppy dog eyes when he goes off to meet his siblings and he floats the idea to the other three about bringing him along next time. Secretly, Lukas mainly wants to be invited just so he can decline the invitation to annoy Kendall but also because its a side of Roman he doesn’t get to see, and he wants to know every single thing there is to know about his boyfriend. Unfortunately Romans suggestion of bringing Lukas is met with a resounding no. They either think he stole their dads company from them (Kendall) or are still embarrassed that they fell for his “bricks of blood” story (Shiv).

I kind of live for the idea that Kendall not-so-secretly wants Lukas to be his cool tech bro bestie and is still bitter that Roman “stole” him at his birthday party and keeps giving ridiculous reasons as to why Lukas can’t come to family dinner. When he finally relents and extends an invitation, Lukas declines because he’s busy, which only infuriates Kendall even further because he’s used to everyone bending over backwards for the Roys. It takes him a while to understand that Lukas is an entirely different entirety to the other spouses - he has his own friends for one and unfortunately that doesn’t include his boyfriends brother. So Kendall puts his Lukas Ban back in place only to have his feelings hurt when he finds out that Conner has secretly had him and Roman over dinner more than once.  

Conner has that (somewhat) stable dad energy and really pushes for Lukas to be included even if the other two aren’t keen. He tries to bond with Lukas by bringing up his experience with a mentally unwell parent to the point where Roman, Shiv and Willa have to tell him to stop before Lukas reports him for harassment. Undeterred, Conner keeps trying to add Lukas to the family group chat which Lukas promptly declines until he realises that Roman is rather hurt he doesn’t want to be involved. Once he’s in, Lukas actually finds the family chat a great source of amusement - the siblings are so easy to wind up. Most of the inane chatter he ignores because unlike the rest of them, he actually has a job to do and when he does reply it’s either in Swedish, meme form or simply hearting all of Roman’s comments. He lasts three days before Kendall boots him from the group and is promptly added to a NOT KENDALL side chat with Roman and Shiv. It’s because of Lukas accidentally-on-purpose revealing the existence of the NOT KENDALL side chat that Conner gets out voted when he suggests inviting Lukas to the next sibling dinner. 

Shiv and Lukas have the trickiest relationship - mostly because Roman tells her everything and her proximity to Tom. Being a private person, Lukas doesn’t want everything he says or does in his personal life to become office gossip, nor does he want Shiv to know all the goings on in his relationship. Then there’s Shiv, who is clinging on to Roman tighter than ever now that he’s breaking away from the family and her own relationship with Tom isn’t great. Roman ends up in a bit of a tug of war between them as they both clamour for his attention which he initially finds very difficult to navigate until Shiv relents, and says Lukas can come to dinner as long as he doesn’t act like “a giant dork devoid of human emotion.” The invitation is ultimately rescinded when she finds out that Lukas has stolen Roman away to the Caribbean for a break meaning he won’t be available for their weekly bitching session. 

It takes Roman inviting the other two over for take out knowing full well that Lukas will be arriving home midway through dinner to get them all in the same room. It’s incredibly awkward, mostly because Lukas is midway through taking his office clothes off before he notices the extra people sitting at the table, and then Kendall throwing a hissy fit over being lied to. For once Roman manages to stick up for himself and yells at them all that Lukas is coming to the sibling dinners from now on so they better start getting along. 

[mermaidsirennikita]

so what did you think of each of the roy sibs ending?

I think it was a great finale and while there were twists and turns I didn't expect, I feel like it was totally right for all of them.

Kendall--Right NOW, I'm ending on a pessimistic vibe for Kendall wherein I agree with Jesse that this is the defining event in his life that he'll never get over... I don't see Kendall being a good, like... father. I don't see him being a whole person. I see him as being less of a destructive force than his father (simply because, though I imagine that someone with his wealth and connections will build something again, it will never be on a Waystar level) but I don't think he'll ever be happy and recognize the freedom he has been given for what it is. Kendall wants to be shackled.

[insert my "the Roy siblings would all be a lot better off if they just channeled their intense emotional issues into safe, sane, and consensual kink (not with each other)" spiel]

I also think the fact that Kendall was willing to throw out the one thing that haunted his conscience since season 1, the one thing that brought true empathy from his siblings (the cater waiter thing) in exchange for Waystar... That is why I don't think he's going to get over this for a looong time, if ever. He was willing to sacrifice everything for this; he did; and he lost.

Roman--I mean, I think a lot of people are gonna go into the baby Romey stuff, and I won't excuse Kendall getting physical with him. in the hug.... But lol, I do think we can all say we wouldn't lose our shit over someone saying our non-bio kids aren't "real bloodline"... and then we'd lose our shit. Do I think that was ALL about the kids for Kendall? No, of course not. But that is a *hell* of a trigger. And yes, for sure there's some ugly Logan-fostered macho shit going on there (I interpreted that dialogue as Sophie being adopted and Iverson being biologically Rava's but conceived with a sperm donor because Kendall is infertile) but also... those are his kids, man. And frankly I think the fact that Roman clearly agreed with Logan on that is the 50 billionth dog whistle about Roman's core political leanings that he TRULY believes in that we've gotten since s3. The guy who said the "blacks and the Jews" line now caring a good bit about "true Roy blood"????

I also feel like Roman is just not gonna work and idly waste away in his millions, never able to be honest about his sexuality, his desires, or his trauma in a straightforward way. He will never be able to have a healthy relationship.

Shiv--The tragedy of Shiv is that she became her mother, and I did see a lot of that coming, and I don't agree with the "this is anti-feminist" takes because a) Shiv has always been complicit to acts of extreme misogyny, so it makes sense that she'd fall prey to it b) I think the point that the show was trying to make is that even if Shiv was fit to be CEO (she wasn't) she still wouldn't be selected because of this culture of extreme misogyny that is Waystar.

I think that in the end, Shiv does have a sick love for Tom, and the shock of him being the potential CEO rocked her and put her in a place where she was like "it's going to be HIM???" And she both wanted to be with him, tbh, if he was going to lead anyway... and could justify her desire to be with him as a strategic move while receiving validation from him (because Shiv is so desperate for male validation, always). Shiv couldn't handle the idea of Kendall being CEO because at the end of the day, the siblings view that seat in a very childish way. Kendall with his "I'm the eldest boy", Roman with the "but why couldn't it be me" as if it's just something you get because it's there, and Shiv with the points system of fairness in her head.

So it makes sense that in the end, someone who had far less emotional stake in it (who perhaps began with more but had that whittled away over the series) like Tom would "win". Tom didn't need to be a sole ruler--he was willing to compromise with Matsson because it served his purpose and got him power he can use another day, maybe. Tom registering Matsson wanting to fuck Shiv with clear anger, then brushing it aside for his goals, when s1 Tom was devastated when she cheated, when her sleeping with other people has always been such a huge crisis for him... chilling. But that's why he won.

Also, the reality is that Logan was right about none of the kids being able to rule the company (Kendall has the business training but emotionally he could never distance himself enough to be truly rational over it) but the issue is that this was HIS FAULT LOL. He never wanted them to be on his level. He wanted to lord over them. And he was upset when the people he designed to fail... failed. Something Kendall basically pointed out in s1.

So Logan created this company that in theory should've been a family legacy, but ultimately began and ended with him, because he couldn't bear to share it. And I think that's such good writing.

[finalgirlkateausten]

📚

ANOTHER DAY ANOTHER DRAMA

A 1960s Succession shivlina AU ~ 897 words ~ rated E

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Shiv paces, barefoot on Roman's stupidly ornate carpet in his stupidly ornate sitting room. She knows her brother, and doubts he ever uses this room. It's all the height of luxury and simultaneously not his style at all. Still, his staff keeps everything clean, and she sinks her toes into the soft, thick carpet as she runs her hands over the back of the velvet couch. She's antsy like she gets when she smokes with Kendall, and she's done this enough times that she shouldn't be, but the whole situation is anxiety-inducing and she can't stop worrying that this time will be the last straw and, perhaps worst of all, her set-up requires her to trust her brother.

As if summoned by her thoughts, the front door opens noisily and she hears Roman yell down the long front hall. "Shiv! She's here! Pay me!"

Shiv pulls her white slip down as if she can make it fall below mid-thigh and grabs a wad of bills from her purse. Roman is halfway down the hall when she steps out, an annoying grin on his face and his arm around the waist of a tall, shapely brunette. Shiv hands him the money and he steps away from the woman as if he's been burned, bowing ridiculously to them both and then passing Shiv to exit out the back door, probably off to enjoy his own deviant sexual escapades.

Thirty years old, and Shiv can't pay for her own fucking prostitutes.

It's just a risk she can't take, like the clubs she'd frequented in her youth that she'd had to abandon once she obtained a husband who would question her whereabouts. New York is a big city but a small world, and enough of her father's associates utilize these sorts of services that she can't risk word going to the highest bidder that Logan Roy's daughter beds women semi-regularly.

Karolina slips her hand into Shiv's with a mona lisa smile, and as soon as they touch Shiv's anxiety fades away. She pulls Karolina into her even as Karolina tries to lead them back into the sitting room, and they end up kissing against the door frame. Shiv crades the back of Karolina's head so that she doesn't bang it on the wood, eager to muss her neatly-styled bob.

"I've missed you," she says, breaking the kiss with a smile.

Karolina's eyes flash as she returns the gesture. "I've missed your daddy's money."

"You are terrible," Shiv breathes, her voice getting husky at the zest in Karolina's rebuttal.

Karolina pulls her leg over her hip, rucking up Shiv's slip and sliding her hand under the hem of her panties. "Mhm? Then what does that make you?"

Shiv kisses her viciously for a few more minutes, until she can feel her pulse dizzy in her head and banging against her chest and hot in her cunt. Karolina's hands are everywhere, but her touch is too much and not enough all at once, and Shiv doesn't know what she wants and thinks maybe she doesn't-- can't-- want this, not right now. If she wanted someone to fuck her hard just to give her an orgasm and be done, she wouldn't pretend to be asleep by the time Tom got to bed.

"Lina," she gasps, the nickname a necessity born of her empty lungs and not truly an endearment, "let's move somewhere else."

Karolina just looks at her, with her dark eyes and slow smile. She runs her finger down Shiv's neck until she's pulling at the neckline of her slip, exposing the red trim of her red-and-white lingerie. "Whatever you want, Siobhan."

Shiv hadn't told her her full name until their third meeting. She hadn't expected to like it, in such an intimate but theoretically detached way. And then she had.

To be honest, this isn't as detached as she'd hoped either. There's a lot of things she hadn't expected about Karolina.

"You're a work of art, sweetheart," she coos as she leads Karolina into the sitting room. "Let's get you out of this dress... I wanna see all of you."

Karolina smirks over her shoulder at her as Shiv pulls the zipper down. "Well, maybe you should get undressed too.

Shiv drops Karolina's dress to the floor and obeys, removing her silk slip to show off her flattering ensemble, stark and clean with trim almost matching her hair.

Karolina is in an all-black set that feels much more severe, and it takes Shiv's breath away. She lifts herself to sit on Roman's chessboard, pieces scattering. A king rolls off the table and comes to a rest at Shiv's feet. She steps over it, placing her hands around Karolina's wrists and kissing her deeply. She sinks to her knees, watching Karolina's dark eyes flash as she moves her hands from her arms to her thighs.

"Please let me," she says softly. "I need to."

"That's what I'm here for," Karolina purrs, cupping Shiv's cheek and tilting her chin up so that they're making eye contact. The hanging lamp is giving Karolina a halo, a reddish-orange light thanks to Roman's absurd fixtures. Karolina's nails dig into Shiv's skin a bit as she finishes her sentence. "...to give you what you need."

When she lets go, Shiv buries her head between Karolina's thighs until she's able to forget about the outside world entirely.

[richeeduvie]

The sibs are in the private jet on their way to meet their dad/the old guard for a working “vacation” somewhere in Europe during Kendall wins.

It’s Shiv, Tom, Roman, Kendall, and Baby.

Roman watches Kendall and the only woman he’s ever loved as he makes her laugh. What the fuck? Kendall isn’t even funny.

Several hours in everyone is more or less settled in for the rest of the trip. Kendall takes the opportunity to take Baby to the bedroom in the back of the plane. What the fuck. No one except Logan even uses that bedroom.

Roman considers jumping out of the plane as he moves to a sofa farther away from where he was trying to sleep (his usual spot near that bedroom) and to the front of that cabin. He doesn’t want to hear anything more. But he still can’t move his eyes from the door even from so much farther away.

Roman's about to slice Tom's shifty, beady eyes with his fingernail, but he will not cry. He'll dig his nail into his palm, his short life line. You taught him about palm reading. Fuck you. Fuck this. He knows all of him is wrong, but what did he do to make you hate him like this?

Why do you hate him now? Because he asked too many times? Because he believed you do and you're just now listening? That's wrong.

Why do you love his brother? Why did you fall into what he was always fucking afraid of?

"Rome, you're the embodiment of a coyote with Parkinson's right now. Slow your muscles."

Roman says nothing. Fuck Shiv too. He gets up, his neck jolting slight as he moves to the front of the cabin. He wants to yell out, a punchy cry - but maybe he'll just roll out the plane and splatter and it'll be your fault. You'll finally see him after so long, and maybe you'll love him enough to make Kendall distant.

As he moves, he thought Kendall making other sounds come out of you would be what cracks him open, what makes him want to drag his nails into his skin and peel the pink of his muscles. Or to be plain, easy, what makes him want to kill himself, but it's not. It's just more laughter from the room, at least at first.

Roman curls up in his chair before his throat feels tight, like he's five and about to cry. When did you decide to was easier to hate him than to love him? What about him made you decide that?

Everything, probably.

[ithinkofnealcassady]

what makes you think stewy has a significantly deeper capacity for love than the roys? in the context of them all being part of the same parasitic landscape it kinda feels like comparing a guy who's 85% soulless to the guys who are 96% soulless which ig is still a difference but not rly a meaningful one

no yeah that’s a valid perspective! i think that (a small part of) stewy is in denial over how much he cares, which makes him “fit” w the roys and the professionals that surround him more seamlessly (always a performer); he knows how to act to get what he wants (something the roys do not know how to do all the time). he shows his love with varying degrees of “social normalcy” (physical touch vs for example the trojan horse) just as the roys do (any of the times they kiss each other upon meeting up vs hug of death to put roman down in the finale). a lot of this comes down to performance vs honesty. the siblings’ love for each other, for all their other neuroses, tends to be honest. we don’t know enough about stewy to absolutely say the same.

we could dissect every second of screen time to determine the ways kendall roman and shiv are able versus unable to “perform” or “exhibit” love per social standards and structures and we still wouldn’t have clear answers—**and it really doesn’t fucking matter how they show the love because the love is undeniably there!!!!** the tit-for-tat would be endless: stewy does show his love in socially typical ways (which is up to interpretation as well!! you could think he’s being primarily manipulative when he touches ken on screen. i just don’t think that personally); the roys MATCH HIM in that sense—a hug after daddy dies, holding hands to tell their brother the news: the tragedy of losing someone who they needed MORE THAN ANYONE ELSE to love them is the inciting action for them falling onto the next most similar form of love: their siblings. thus the development of the sibs’ relationships through s4, clinging then pushing away, kissing and biting, their father’s children all the way through. we don’t get to see stewy with anyone other than the roys, sandies, the old guard, hired staff, and briefly & from a distance josh. so there’s not much in the source material to prove he has a greater capacity for love! which is why i totally understand where you’re coming from!

i really don’t want this to seem like i think all the roys are is monstrous. if you’ve spent 2 seconds on my blog you know i don’t think that so i am assuming you’re asking this in good faith!!!!

to pivot slightly, when i write about kenstewy’s love specifically, i’m not saying stewy’s love is “better” or “worth more” or “realer” than the roys’, but i think STEWY feels like it means that—specifically he thinks he loves kendall better than anyone else does. since i write so much from stewy’s perspective i bet it seems like i’m saying that all the time lol, and when i write from kendall’s perspective i write him in a way where he’s obsessed w how much he loves stewy & stewy loves him, because to his father/family it WAS quantifiable. ratable. whatever

**for the sake of this discussion, i will say again that i don’t think for a moment such a thing as love/an amount of love can be literally numerically quantified!! & to be super clear i also strongly believe it has NO relation to one’s morality.** so i’m not saying stewy is a better person. everything i’ve said on this topic is meant to support the thesis that the enormous amount of love the roys invest in their father impacts the way they are able to show love to all other characters. i think stewy loves the shit out of his family; i also think kendall is the most important person in his life. i think kendall loves the shit out of stewy; i also think his family are the most important people in his life.

i don’t have super concrete views on the topic, as i think this answer demonstrates!

tl;dr the real reason i feel this way is because of the soul arian instills into the performance. it’s less what’s on paper and more what he brought in his dark lambent eyes

[seoafin]

when it comes to shiv i’m like in between thinking what happened was a better outcome for her or the shittiest one for her. sorry this is random. but like shiv didn’t intend to free kendall n roman she just did the younger sibiling thing (at least how i interpreted) and realized she couldn’t stand the idea of kendall getting it. when she rlly fucking wanted it. like she wanted it to be her or no one. especially as the only girl in a family full of boys you are never not competing like i so get her. so i think she’d rather tom have it cause it would mean by association she’d have it too. something how the only times she allowed power is through the men in her proximity idk. and i do think this in some sense is better for her cause kendall would’ve been a lose fucking cannon we constantly see him promise his sibilings stuff then rip it away from them. at least when tom is talking to hugo n asking for karolina we get a sense that they’re somehow aligned. especially knowing that hugo is kendalls dog and even tho if she just asked kendall to get rid of hugo he wouldn’t done so in a heartbeat. but that’s the thing she didn’t wanna ask. it just fucjing sucks that it HAD to be tom like i hate his ass. it sucks that the dynamic in her relationship ultimately changed like someone said she’s always gonna have an angry man in her house now. idk if tom yet is this amalgamation of her father that the general public has saddled her with cause he still has to answer to lukas n lukas told her point blank he wanted to fuck shiv n my mans just said sure dude whatver u want no it doesn’t bother me at all!! like i still tom is a pussy but i also know that money corrupts n chnages u so that very well could chnage. which is smt i think succesion banks a lot on the idea of giving u the now and letting u guess what happens in the future. i know i just sent a whole essay so i definitely care about shiv but i am to my core a roman girlie so it is kinda nice not to have a dog in this fight idk!!

SORRY THIS IS LATE I JUST SAW THIS

i actually disagree! i think shiv DID want to free kendall and also roman from the cycle of abuse and she did exactly that. i think the phrase that really sticks to mind is the i love you but i cannot stomach you quote from shiv to kendall. i think the saddest thing about it all is the fact that shiv is in the exact position she spent the entire show trying to avoid: being the wife and giving birth to a baby that will probably continue the cycle of abuse (and i think what hints at this is when roman says that shiv is the TRUE bloodline not kendall because kendall's kids aren't his). i honestly think it's a mix of the fact that she didn't want to give the position up to anyone AND she saw what it had done to the three of them. like i'm not going to say she was being entirely selfless but also i do think she loves kendall and roman. and in the ending you could say she's in a position in closest proximity to power in contrast to kendall and roman but it's not an enviable position. she's a mother and wife and that's all she'll ever be. tom is the man she wanted him to be. the man she tried to shape into. i think in a way it's a self fulfilling prophecy in regards to her and tom. also she was never going to escape unfortunately.

and YEAH i don't like tom i might even hate him but i can't even fault him every single person in this show absolutely sucks balls. Except Gerri. I forgive her crimes. She's so hot. like i can't even blame him for doing everything he could do rise to power. he's no different from kendall shiv or roman. he just didn't have nepo baby power. but yeah i think he and greg are two spineless pussies but so is everyone else LMAO

[hughiecampbelle]

Dependence Pt. 4 (Roy!Sibling x Roy Family)

((SUCCESSION SPOILERS))

Character/s: Connor, Kendall, Shiv, Roman, Logan

Word Count: 2,538

Warning: addiction, drugs, alcohol, death, grief

Inspired By: I Bet On Losing Dogs by Mitski

Tag: @locke-writes

A/N: This was one of the best and one of the most heartbreaking episodes I've ever seen. That being said, omfg. All I could think of was Baby Roy. My heart broke for Roman. It was beautiful and an honest portrayal of grief, but I was not ready at all. I wasn't planning on writing anymore parts, but I just couldn't help myself. This episode was too good to leave it be. I'm really happy with how it turned out! this has been my favorite series to write, Baby Roy is so fun to write and it makes me so happy to know you guys like it too!!! Thank you!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Dependence Pt. 1 / Dependence Pt. 2 / Dependence Pt. 3 / Dependence Pt. 5

Being The Youngest Roy Would Include Pt One.

Being The Youngest Roy Would Include Pt. Two

You can still taste the whiskey in the back of your throat. It’s a familiar burning. It’s something you shouldn’t welcome with open arms, but when have you ever turned away from a love that could kill you? When have you been shown any other kind of affection? Their hugs always came with a stab in the back, right between your vertebrae. They were always intentional with their strokes, never wanting to waste a moment, a movement. What you wouldn’t give for a drink right now. Salted rim. Ice. Something bright, something colorful, something to make this all go away. You were so close last time, tip toeing on the edge. Where he fell, you flew, dragged back by the skin of your teeth. You didn’t want to be saved, you wanted to be free. The memories are hazy, but your throat was scratchy, voice patchy, as if you’d been screaming. As if you’d been begging. No one explained, though you had a feeling they all heard. They looked at you differently now. You knew what they said behind your back, your fathers old posse, what they thought of you. Suicidal. Maybe. What did they care about? Now you started what could have been. The casket, the rows and rows of nameless faces, most never shedding a tear over your old man, over you. The violins, the church, the halo effect the light gives as if anyone in this room were remotely holy. You hadn’t had anything since the incident, nothing to drink, nothing to use, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t still feel it, want it. After the charcoal, the sick, after that, it seemed like you could never get rid of that boozy taste in your mouth. Faint, but there. Mocking you, your sobriety. What your father would have said to you after the incident plays on loop in your mind. That if you wanted to cry he would give you something to cry about, if you wanted to die he would give you something to die about.

Too late, you think, you beat me to it. 

Your mother sat beside Caroline and Kerry, making the ever rare appearance in the world to grieve her ex-spouse. She hugged you as she came in, doing the same with your brothers and sister, reminding you this wasn’t the kind of event that came with an open bar. You smiled, unsure of what else to do, unsure of what to say, struck as if you’d been slapped across the face. She wasn’t there. She didn’t see you, in that bed, in that condition. You hadn’t even attempted to call her in that haze, you’d gone to your dead father instead. You knew. You knew even as you lay dying that she would not offer the comforts you so desperately wanted. She would not let you go in peace. Someone must’ve filled her in, though by the look in her eye you’d never know it. She was as jaded and hostile as ever. She seemed satisfied with herself, her quip, moving on to your sister and her big news. Your eyes stung. Someone put their hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Connor or Kendall. You never found out who. Suddenly you were drained. Of life, of everything, wanting to lay down on the pew and sleep forever. You let your siblings talk. You let them wander off to their prospective parties, sticking by Connor like a little kid, becoming his shadow. Since that night he hasn’t let you out of his sight. He takes care of you. He makes sure you’re doing okay. The others call, checking in more than they ever have, all of them feeling guilty. You didn’t mean to. You didn’t mean to make such a mess. You were just so angry, so alone. You were tired of fighting this thing inside of you that could not be controlled, that threatened to burn you alive. 

Time passes strangely. There are gaps in between. You don’t remember sitting down or watching them carry him in, only that he rests in the aisle and you cannot stop yourself from holding your breath. You can’t take your eyes off the casket. He’s really in there, you think, he’s really gone. Part of you still thinks this is all one massive trick. That he’s going to pop up and laugh, making a fool out of all of you. You wait, but he does not stir. Despite their best efforts, Ewan takes his place at the podium. He talks of his brother and sister, Rose. Of Logan's life before you, before the money. You’d never heard any of this before. Your fathers life was a series of scattered bits of information and assumptions to fill in the gaps. You only had a handful of real facts about him, ones that weren’t superficial like his age and birthday. The realization seeps into your skin: you never even knew him. You watch the same thought in your siblings' expressions. The quiver of Roman’s bottom lip. The glazed over look in Kendall's eyes. Even Connor, your oldest brother, the one who knew him the longest, stared forward as if he were desperate to breathe and Ewans words were the only oxygen in the room. All of you hopeless without him, without this story, as if you were hearing about him for the first time. The man you wanted to be loved by so frantically was nothing but a stranger. He kept all of you at arms length, not wanting to get hurt again. Now here you were, hurting, missing out on a father, a real father, because of his fears. You dug your nails into your palms, wanting to scream. 

You watched him crumble before you. He’d been so confident, so manic, you should have known. You should have known all that pre-grieving was masochistic bullshit. His words catch in his throat, his hands shuffle his cards around, until finally he needs to step down, the tears glistening in his eyes. All of you reflectively stand, meeting him at the bottom of the stairs. He is sobbing now, trying to keep it all in. Is he in there? He asks. Can we get him out? Connor steps in front of you, taking his little brother by the arm, as if he doesn’t want you to see this, as if he can protect you from their pains, their sorrows. Roman holds his hands in front of his face, shielding himself from the fury of a ghost. Through your siblings, you grab his cards from his shaking hand. I can do it, you say, catching their eyes. Even Roman, his puppy dog eyes wide and scared and sad, are surprised. I got this. You sound more confident than you feel. None object, though you watch Ken and Shiv share an argument with just their eyes. You smile at Roman, assuring him it’s okay. You have to be there for them, too. You have to be there for them like they’ve been for you. Your tiny crowd dissipates, all of them sitting around him. You take your place at the podium. There is such a huge turnout you can’t see everyone's faces, though you have a feeling you know what they’re thinking. Frank leans over, whispers something to Gerri. You clear your throat, looking over what your brother has written. Fuck. Clutching the cards, you think quickly. The silence hangs in the air thick. I didn’t know my father, you start. Not well, at least. He wasn’t, uh, he wasn’t an easy man to get to know. Some chuckle. He spent most of his time at work, with all of you. Even as a little kid, I thought that’s where Dad lived, in the office. I had no idea uh, I had no idea they lived at home with their family. More laughter. You cannot look at anyone else but your siblings. They nod at you, encouraging you to go on. Someone got Roman water. You offer a sympathetic smile at him, knowing this will haunt him. Tears are welling up in your eyes as you speak, laughter catching in your throat. I, uh, I still can’t believe it, you know? You swallow a sob. I keep thinking that he’s going to come out of nowhere, that this was just some joke he’s playing on us. That we’ll hear his laugh out of nowhere and he’ll be back. It’s not though, it can’t be. It's too real now. Your hands begin to shake, the concerned faces of your brothers and sister blurred by tears. You catch your mother wiping her dry face with a tissue. Kendall inches forward, ready to come to your rescue. I didn’t know him well, but I miss him every single day. I miss the way he used to yell and that disappointed look he gave when we messed up. I miss his condescending tone and the way he danced around an apology. I miss him. We all do. He wasn’t uh, he wasn’t an easy man to love, but who is? 

Connor takes your hand in his, giving it three squeezes. Kendall went up, then Shiv. you can’t hear their words, you can only watch them try to keep themselves together. They share stories of your father, from a childhood before you. You liked hearing about it, as sad as it may be. You were grateful they had each other, that they didn’t grow up so alone. Your head rests on Rome’s shoulder, his sniffling quiet, cautious, as if your father could hear him. On the other side of the church, your mother sobs loudly. The rest of Logan's wives and girlfriends come to her rescue, comforting her, despite not a single tear being shed. You roll your eyes, wishing the day over as fast as possible. You keep close behind Connor and Willa, who are thanking the sea of nameless faces for coming. People you’ve never seen before, people you’ve seen in passing, in Christmas cards, others you have the terrible feeling that they came only to check that the old man was, in fact, truly dead. You take the car with them all the way to the graveyard where his mausoleum stands tall and daunting. Crisp, harsh lines draw you into where he hoped you would all be buried alongside him. If they hadn’t brought you back, if they hadn’t found you when they did, would you be in there now? Would you have taken the first available slot, destined to share eternity with a man who fucking hated you? A shudder goes through your body. Shiv mistakes it for grief, holding your arm. It is cold and sterile, the very place you would have expected him to be. The ground, the bugs, that’s too dirty. Too much. He never would have been cremated either. He didn’t want to rot, you think, as if this place could prevent that. Roman stands near the doorway, not wanting to go in. You wait beside him, not saying a word. Too much empathy, too much compassion, and you’ll drive him away. No, he just needs his time. You watch Connor place his hand on the places in the wall, as if he has already claimed it on his own. You drop your gaze, trying to stop the thoughts from coming. What if, one day, you’re the only one left? What then? How will you go on without them, all of them? Tears fall silently down your cheeks. You couldn’t do it without them. They were your mother and fathers, they raised you, they saved you. Without them, without them you would be nothing. You never would have made it this far, seen this many years. Despite their faults, despite everything, you owed your life to them. You always would. 

Your brother disappears before you can stop him, shutting himself into isolation, into the car. None of you move, none of you get up to get him, your eyes all transfixed on what’s being done before you. Settled into his final resting place. All that anger, all that rage, where does it go? Does it come back to you? Does it belong to you now? You haven’t been angry since that night, not like how it was, your rage replaced with gratitude. You weren’t happy to be back, to be here, but it was better than the alternative. If they’d had to bury you too, you’re not sure what they would have done. Before you thought your absence meant nothing. That they’d known how to function in a world without you before, they could do it again. The way they looked at you when you woke up, when you cried, you realized just how much you’d put them through, how they seemed to age decades under those fluorescent lights. You apologized profusely, but they wouldn’t hear it. They blamed themselves, all of them. You didn’t want to be here. You didn’t want to be tied back to this life, this meaningless existence, but you couldn’t let yourself hurt them anymore.

The reception is crowded, everyone sharing their condolences. Kendall gets you a water before disappearing to talk to Mencken, Roman following obediently. He makes sure you’re okay on your own, that it’ll only be a minute. You assure him you’ll be alright, really. How he would have hated this, you smile. All these people pretending to have known him, sympathizing with his children. As far as he was concerned you deserved nothing. You deserved less than nothing. You wade through the room. They’re off, doing their own things, trying each and every one of them to one day take over. You never wanted that, you never thought it was your rightful place. You know what you want and it doesn’t involve this. It doesn’t involve schmoozing, it doesn’t involve high stakes and high stress. What wouldn't save your family from this, but it’s too late. It always was. They were pitted against one another before you were even born. You sip your water, forever wishing it were something stronger. The impulse is still there. It always has been, always will be. It didn’t leave just because he did. It didn’t escape you just because he did. It sits in the middle of your chest and it is bitter for being ignored. You did it once, a whole year, you can do it again. You will do it again. If not for yourself, if never for yourself, then for them. For Connor, for Kendall, for Siobhan, for Roman. For the people who have always loved you, always will. Logan is dead. He will be. He didn’t care then and he won’t care now, but they will. It’s up to you to do better, be better, stay sober. It's not easy, it never has been, it never will be. But don’t they deserve that? Don’t each of them deserve that from you? You watch them, each of them, laugh and roll their eyes and try to find their way in this world without him. If they can do it, if they can find a reason to show up, to be there, so can you. Right?

[good-realtor-bad-realtor-dynamic]

Living+ and That Gleam in Kendall's eye

Succession 4x6. Why does almost every new episode this season end with me feeling both sick to my stomach and buzzed to all hell? My hands are still trembling.

I have so much to say!

About Kendall and Roman watching their dead father insult them on videos played on loop whether real or edited, Shiv finally confronting her brothers like I always wanted her to instead of bottling up her hurt over their betrayal, the cheapening of the siblings' hug as everything "real" becomes repackaged as a negotiating tactic, ...

... Roman's spiralling grief and insecurity manifesting as he pushes people away and carelessly fires any woman who appears to question him and his place as Logan's son, Gerri noticing something off and giving him a reality check only for him to turn on her so viciously, ...

... the rekindling of Tom and Shiv's unconventional romance when they play "bitey", tease one another and she lets him in with Matsson, Tom's greatest strength being his honesty and his ability to show vulnerability in admitting that the money does matter to him but also calling her out in the process, ...

... Ken's event-planning fact-fudging number-cooking night of chaos and Hollywood mania, his businessbro techspeak jargon at an all-time high, Karl confronting him and trying to straighten him out with a dose of reality, only for Kendall in his Maverick-from-Top-Gun-inspired flight jacket to brush him off, unphased, ...

But I just have to talk about IT.

The gleam in Kendall's eyes.

Kendall's presentation was somehow more harrowing, more painful, more ridiculous and just all-round worse than L to the OG.

The sincerity with which he lays himself bare before the world — "big shoes, big big shoes, big big shoes" big nervous breakdown — the palpable second-hand embarrassment from watching him try to talk to an edited deepfaked video of his father to gain some kind of closure after death — the sickening nature of enterprises like Living+ which take advantage of people's fear of their own mortality and prey on the elderly — the horrifying realization that creeps up on you as you realize while watching this play out, that Ken is exploiting and commodifying his grief and confusion over his father's death, his vulnerability and fragility here functioning as manipulation, as a marketing tactic, whether he knows it or not — all as the world watching him (incredibly) applauds his stark raving mad proposal because nothing is ever sacred to these people.

It's the funniest and worst thing all at once.

And somehow — and this really says something about the state of the world — when these cringe billionaires hopped up on their own hype, hallucinations and delusions of grandeur, especially the ones in tech, make outlandish promises even a child would know better than to take seriously, the world feeds their egos, cheers their cults of personality and allows them to get away with anything because they're not insane! They're just eccentric visionaries, maybe even geniuses. It's genuinely frightening.

Hey, but at the very least, when Number 1 Boy walks into the ocean, an image that had my heart leap into my throat and fill with foreboding, he's floating up with his head facing the sky.

(When this new high inevitably fades, he will definitely sink, and I can't bear to watch it.)

And yeah, of course Lukas Matsson tweets disgusting Holocaust "jokes". Fuck him.

Oh, and was I the only one who thought I might have been watching behind-the-scenes footage or a special feature by accident when the episode first came on with Logan Roy against a green screen? I really though it was just Brian Cox for a second there and thought HBO had fucked up!