#the boys of jackson harbor

[a-french-coconut]

Drew Tanaka (Part 3)

She sees the hurt in Lacy’s eyes when she makes a cruel remark about her makeup. 

It’s impossible to ignore Mitchell’s glare when she throws away his used shoes, “making more space for better clothes”. 

She feels the dislike for her growing in Thomas and Héloise. 

Good, better for them to hate her. It will hurt less when they inevitably leave her. 

She knows she’s hurting them but one day they’ll understand that she did for good reasons. 

It’s laughable, irony at its finest. 

A child of Aphrodite scared of love. 

It might be the most beautiful thing the Fates ever crafted. 

Camp already didn’t like her, it doesn’t take too much effort for it to despise her. 

A little flirting over there then a charming smile here, some charmspeak and two campers are fighting, her standing in the middle, modern Helen as Menelaus and Paris fight for her. Here it is not Aphrodite, oh no she’s sure her mother is enjoying the view, but Chiron that separates the enchanted boys and girls. 

At the beginning, they forgive her. Put her despicable attitude on Silena’s death and that she’s allowed to grieve, that nobody blames her. 

Drew laughs, a cruel cold sound (such unlike Silena’s warm, inviting one) promising even crueler words. 

She doesn’t remember all the insults she hurled at her dead sister, Clarisse’s punch has been quite effective on her nose and memory. 

Months passes and Drew’s eyeliner gets pinker and sharper. Her makeup is an armor, one she wears every seconds of every day. 

While the demigods of Camp Half-Blood forget Silena Beauregard, Drew dreams of her every night, laughing over bodies aflame, hugging her and murmuring kinds words, talking to that damned bracelet. 

It’s not a healthy lifestyle. But Silena is true daughter of Love, consuming her very essence and mental health even in death. No amount of makeup is waterproof enough to resist her endless tears at night. 

Eight months after the battle of Manhattan, Drew Tanaka can finally go to sleep without seeing her dead sister. In the grand scheme of the universe, it’s not such a big deal, not when Percy Jackson disappeared and that Annabeth Chase is going mad trying to find him. But to her, it’s liberating. 

She still thinks about Silena from time to time. And every time her heart turns into a boiling inferno of hate and grief but now she has time to breathe, air enters her lungs and she isn’t suffocating anymore. 

Some campers see through her façade, Will Solace harbors no love for those who murdered half his cabin while Connor Stoll stills has to force a smile when a new camper asks him about Luke. 

She always admired Will’s capacity to forgive, to plaster a wide smile for every camper entering the infirmary, even the children of Ares who wished the death of Cabin 7’s residents during the war. 

If it was Drew, she would have screamed at them until her throat was raw and buried them under guilt and shame. 

She would also have kept that stupid chariot very preciously, not landing it to Annabeth Chase who had been manic, mumbling things about the Grand Canyon and a guy with one shoe. 

When said chariot crashes into the lake, ruining it completely, it’s funny to see Will loses his normally calm behavior, Annabeth’s promise to fix it doing nothing to calm him down. 

“Where’s Jackson ?” she asks, not seeing the son of Poseidon. 

“He wasn’t at the Grand Canyon, Hera just wanted to keep playing with me.” Grits Annabeth, “but we found these three.” 

She gestures at the three demigods behind her, a tall blond guy with electrical blue eyes, a small latino boy and a girl with horrendous chopped hair. 

“Woah, really feeling the love here.” Mumbles the latino boy, his hands fiddling with some strings. 

“Yeah, what’s your problem ? You’ve been looking at us, especially Jason, like we are the ones who kidnapped your boyfriend.” Adds the girl, crossing her arms defensively. 

“Nobody wants you here hun, you and the rat nest you call hair can leave for all we care.” 

Seeing her face reddening is most amusing, Annabeth’s scolding having no real effect on her but for the sake of her authority in Camp, she obliges and keeps her mouth shut. 

The latino boy, Leo Valdez she learns, is claimed really quickly. She had to say he doesn't have the typical built of an Hephaestus kid, all scrawny and elfish features.

She wonders whose children are Jason and Piper McLean, Jason could very well be one of her siblings while Piper is certainly not. Maybe Hermes, or Iris with those kaleidoscope eyes.

With one look, she can assert what kind of girl Piper is. She's the girl thinking herself superior for not caring about her appearance, for not wearing makeup.

She's the type of girl who hates girls like Drew.

Well, Drew has no problem hating back.

There is obviously something between them, the way Piper reaches for Jason's hand and-

Oh

He doesn't take it back.

Drew tilts her head curiously, looking straight into his blue eyes, trying to decipher his emotions.

Confusion, anguish, fear, a sentiment of not belonging, all of those are very common for new arrivals.

What is not, however, is the void. She cannot feel anything else, no joy or sadness.

It's like he doesn't have them.

"I don't remember anything except my name, sorry."

Or maybe he forgot them.

Drew frowns, missing completely the dialogue between Jason and Annabeth about roman names or whatever, not important.

It would seem he has amnesia, a severe one for even forgetting emotions. She's not sure she can help with actual memories but she could try to charmspeak him at a subconscious level, trigger the emotions back.

Her gaze shifts ever so lightly, enough to meet Piper's eyes looking at her with unhidden dislike, her hand tightening around Jason's.

Drew rolls her eyes, typical of that kind of girl, to think that every women looking at their boyfriend are interested.

But fine, she'll play the game.

She makes the sweetest smile she can and grabs Jason by the arm, the poor boy getting really confused at her actions.

"Come on, I'll show you Camp while Will takes Leo and Annabeth guides Piper. I'm much better company."

Jason, the oblivious type it would seems, nods and follows her. She smiles at him, winking at Piper behind them who's looking absolutely furious.

She first takes him to the Big House, where Chiron wanted to meet him, then shows him all the different cabins. When he asks her about Percy Jackson, she tells him about his quests, the battle of Manhattan and his perfect love story with Annabeth.

She doesn't make any flirtatious remarks, treating him like she would with a brother. Really she just wanted to piss off Piper, she has not romantic interest in Jason whatsoever.

When she finishes the tour, she leaves him alone with the Hermes Cabin and goes join Will in the infirmary.

"So, how's Leo ? Seems like the hyperactive kind."

"Spot on, poor Nyssa already had Harley to babysit and now him."

"You don't seem to like him that much."

"It's not that, he just asked questions about sensitive subjects. He had no idea about the battle of Manhattan, it was on national news how could he miss that ? And then, Jake gave him Beckendorf's bed, did you know they had secret rooms, and he was really inventive about it. I know, he didn't know it but come on, asking to specify how he died just to know it is wasn't on his bed ?"

As he rants, he organises the infirmary's shelves again and again, even though everything is already in order.

"Sup bitches !"

Connor strolls in, going to sit just next to Drew dodging easily the band aids coming his way.

"How's Jason ?" she asks him.

"Poor dude really got his memory messed up. You're interested in him ?"

"No, just wanted to mess with McLean."

"I bet she's your sister."

"Don't be ridiculous, she looks like she crawled out of a dumpster."

"Remember that for tonight."

"I'm siding with Connor on this one," Will chimes in.

"You are both wrong."

"Anyways, did you know that Piper passed out in Hera's cabin ?"

"Why didn't you start with that ?" panics Will, "does she need any help ?"

"Nah, Annabeth didn't call any of your siblings playing basketball just next to them, I figure she's fine."

They stay together until campfire, Drew and Will shamelessly teasing Connor about Malcolm, the son of Hermes blushing and yet denying their claims.

"You do know that Travis complains to me about how your pining, right ?" reveals Will.

"He's so dead next Capture the Flag."

Campfire goes as usual until Jason summons a lightning bolt and a quest is issued.

"Son of Zeus and brother of Thalia Grace," whistles Connor seated next to her, "I did not see that coming."

Drew doesn't pay him much mind, focusing on the prophecy announcing that a child of Aphrodite must go on the quest.

She's the oldest in the cabin, the most experienced fighter and more importantly, the only one with charmspeak.

Bright young Lacy with the cutest smile.

Heloise dreaming about her creations on the runway.

Thomas' aspiration to be a therapist, to help demigods deal with their feelings.

Mitchell who's got a little mortal brother waiting for him when he's old enough to survive in the mortal world.

What does she have ?

A father a little distant but who loves her dearly.

A letter of acceptation to Brooklyn Academy of the Gifted for next year.

She has everything to lose going on that quest, risking death.

"The dove obviously means Aphrodite. I volunteer to help Jason on his quest."

She resists the urge of scoffing at the wide eyes looking at her.

Drew Tanaka, doing a selfless and heroic act ?

All of them forget she was in Manhattan, fighting for Olympus as much as them.

All of them forget the beads on her necklace, giving her seniority over many seated around the fire.

All of them forget that Drew has once been a loving sister, always cold but never one to back down from protecting those she loves.

It's alright, she doesn't mind.

Even children of Love need someone to love them back.

"I'm the one going !"

Of course, dumpster girl is going to make this complicated, she groans internally.

"Oh, and with what experience ?" she asks Piper sarcastically whose looking very embarrassed with the whole camp looking at her, "do you know how to kill specific monsters ? Do you know how to fight ? No answer ? You arrived this morning, McLean, you're not qualified for a quest."

And no matter how much you get on my nerves, you don't deserve to die.

"But- Rachel spoke to me in Hera's Cabin !"

By Aphrodite, stop trying to get killed !

"And what do the rest of you all think ? Who should go on this quest ? Piper, or me ? Don't you think I'm more capable, I actually have training that will help me survive in the mortal world. I'm the best choice."

Sweetness coats her voice, all the campers agreeing with her words, a pale pink halo glowing around her.

She smirks at Piper.

I win, honey.

"Stop listening to her ! Don't you see she's tricking you ? Don't listen to her words."

Her smile's drops instantly, eyes narrowing on Piper.

Was that-

I can't be.

But she cannot feel her charmspeak on the campers anymore, the spell broken somehow.

It was then.

Piper just charmspeaked the whole camp and didn't even do it on purpose.

"I know I just got here the morning but I feel like I must go on this quest."

How infuriating.

"You're nor lightning nor forge sweetheart." she snarls at Piper, "And you are certainly not a daughter of Aphrodite."

At her mother's name, Piper glows pink as a holographic dove appears above her. When the glow diminishes, she is now dressed in a white peplos, golden jewels adorning her arms. Her hair is no longer the disaster it was when she arrived, now long and silky.

Chiron bows, the whole camp following his gesture, even Drew.

"All hail Piper McLean, daughter of Aphrodite !"

"Still convinced she's not your sister ?"

"Shut up Connor."

Part 4 posted !

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🌈 Queer Books Coming Out in February 2024

🌈 Good afternoon, my bookish bats! Struggling to keep up with all the amazing queer books coming out this month? Here are a FEW of the stunning, diverse queer books you can add to your TBR before the year is over. Remember to #readqueerallyear! Happy reading!

❤️ We Ate the Dark by Mallory Pearson 🧡 The Paper Boys by D.P. Clarence 💛 Skater Boy by Anthony Nerada 💚 Your Shadow Half Remains by Sunny Moraine 💙 A Vicious Game by Melissa Blair 💜 Clarion Call by Cayla Fay ❤️ Relit: 16 Latinx Remixes of Classic Stories edited by Sandra Proudman 🧡 The Absinthe Underground by Jamie Pacton 💛 Truthfully, Yours by Caden Armstrong 💙 Outsider by Jade du Preez 💜 Cross My Candy Heart by A.C. Thomas 🌈 The Tainted Cup by Robert Jackson Bennett

❤️ An Education in Malice by S. T. Gibson 🧡 The Imposition of Unnecessary Obstacles by Malka Ann Older 💛 Never a Bridesmaid by Spencer Greene 💚 The Rewind by Nicole Stiling 💙 Good Christian Girls by Elizabeth Bradshaw 💜 The Fox Maidens by Robin Ha ❤️ The Terrible by Tessa Crowley 🧡 Blood Rage by Ileandra Young 💛 Call of the Sea by Emily B. Rose 💙 Sign Me Up by C.H. Williams 💜 Ways and Means by Daniel Lefferts 🌈 Peaceful in the Dark by A.A. Fairview

❤️ We Are Only Ghosts by Jeffrey L. Richards 🧡 Dead Ringer by Robyn Nyx 💛 Somacultural Liberation by Dr. Roger Kuhn 💚 Stormbringer by Erinn Harper 💙 A Saga of Shields & Shadows by A.J. Shirley 💜 Ghost Town by R.E. Ward ❤️ I Heard Her Call My Name by Lucy Sante 🧡 The Night Alphabet by Joelle Taylor 💛 Remedial Magic by Melissa Marr 💙 Bloom by N.R. Walker 💜 Entwined by Alex Alberto 🌈 Queer Newark edited by Whitney Strub

❤️ Tristan by Jesse Roman 🧡 How to Live Free in a Dangerous World by Shayla Lawson 💛 Daniel, Deconstructed by James Ramos 💚 Of Socialites & Prizefights by Arden Powell 💙 Lost Harbor by Kimberly Cooper Griffin 💜 Hannah Tate, Beyond Repair by Laura Piper Lee ❤️ Bunt! Striking Out on Financial Aid by Ngozi Ukazu & Mad Rupert 🧡 How You Get the Girl by Anita Kelly 💛 Blackmailer’s Delight by David Lawrence 💙 Tile M for Murder by Felicia Carparelli 💜 Impulse Buy by Jae 🌈 Live for You, Die With You by Kalob Dàniel

❤️ Fairest of All by A.D. Ellis 🧡 Goddess of the Sea by Britney Jackson 💛 A Taste of Earth by Nico Silver 💚 The Moorings of Mackerel Sky by M.Z. Emily Zack 💙 How the Boogeyman Became a Poet by Tony Keith 💜 V is for Valentine by Thomas Grant Bruso ❤️ Crushed Ice by Ashlyn Kane & Morgan James 🧡 When Tomorrow Comes by D. Jackson Leigh 💛 Bugsy & Other Stories by Rafael Frumkin 💙 The White and Blue Between Us by Kiyuhiko 💜 Guide Us Home by CF Frizzell & Jesse J. Thoma 🌈 The Friendship Study by Ruby Barrett

❤️ Infinity Alchemist by Kacen Callender 🧡 Heart2Heart edited by Annabeth Albert 💛 No Time Like Now by Naz Kutub 💚 Bless the Blood by Walela Nehanda 💙 Vengeance Planning for Amateurs by Lee Winter 💜 Who We Are in Real Life by Victoria Koops ❤️ Prove It by Stephanie Hoyt 🧡 Mewing by Chloe Spencer 💛 Awakenings by Claudie Arseneault 💙 Born of Scourge by S. Jean 💜 Disciples of Chaos by M.K. Lobb 🌈 To Cage a God by Elizabeth May

❤️ Greta & Valdin by Rebecca K Reilly 🧡 What Feasts At Night by T. Kingfisher 💛 You Had Me at Merlot by Melissa Brayden 💚 Turning Point by Cathy Dunnell 💙 For the Stolen Fates by Gwendolyn Clare 💜 Season of Eclipse by Terry Wolverton ❤️ These Haunted Hills by Jana Denardo 🧡 Samson & Domingo by Gume Laurel III 💛 Lies that Bind by Rae Knowles & April Yates 💙 We Got the Beat by Jenna Miller 💜 The Diablo's Curse by Gabe Cole Novoa 🌈 Blessings by Chukwuebuka Ibeh

❤️ Out There by Iris Eliot 🧡 At Her Service by Amy Spalding 💛 Green Dot by Madeleine Gray

[rgr-pop]

i have a (unrelated) professional meeting in a few weeks with the archivist responsible for state prison records. you can request inmate files as a patron and i want to go through that process to see what it’s like (i do this for everything, not enough archivists are user services brained). i want the files on grandma fran’s brother in law, who spent a few months in jackson in 1914 or so for probably assaulting grandma’s sister. but he ended up getting out because they argued she was older than she said—exTREME old world messiness. his name is a name you would come up with if i told you to think of a jewish guy’s name as dead common in 1913 as it would be today. but he ended up changing it (name change petitions—another source i’ve never used but always wanted to, had a professor who wrote a book with these—later). i thought maybe to distance himself from the case, but his name was so wildly common it was already difficult to track him anywhere. (his wife’s name is fairly uncommon now but was insanely common for jewish immigrant girls then, so much so that his parents likely had exactly the same names as he and his wife.) so maybe for classic jewish name reasons—and they would go on, decades later, to convert to christianity. but: shortly after his case there was another jewish boy with exactly his name all over the news, he caught leprosy, i think he lived in the benton harbor jewish colony. my first thought was that i’d be relieved, if i wanted to run from my notoriety, if some guy with the same name did something flashier, and the public lost my trail. (seo brain maybe.) but then i found this article about how after the leper news, jewish guys in michigan with exactly this name (again there were many) were facing widespread discrimination on account of being mistaken for a leper. so who knows! anyway i’m gonna file my request for his papers now so maybe it’ll be a fun conversation starter at the meeting.

[a-b-riddle]

Pen Pals Chapter One: Welcome to the Internet

I feel like most girls who claimed they loved world history either had a hot history teacher or a Percy Jackson obsession. Well, I'm not like most girls. I had both. I may have been failing math, but when I tell you I was passing history with flying colors...

It was 2009: I was a freshman in high school and at 14 years old, I was very impressionable. Full disclosure: I was not groomed. Well, by my teacher at least. My history teacher wasn't like that weird, over-friendly coach with the students. He was just hot. Very incredibly boring, but hot by my standards as a 14-year-old who up until that point had only kissed two boys, but read some very questionable fan-fiction. 

Our semester closed on the unit about World War II. It was the week of Christmas, we just finished our finals and we watched a movie I highly recommend called 'Pearl Harbor'.

That movie just kind of fueled my obsession with World War II. It's like those little kids who had a really nice nurse when they were sick and they grew up wanting to be nurses. I saw Ben Affleck in a WW 2 uniform and was fucking SET. 

Now don't get me wrong, I actually enjoyed it besides the hot actors. I loved the stories. I loved the heroes. Second Lieutenant Audie L. Murphy: The most decorated soldier of the war. He was credited for killing over 200 Germans. Corporal Desmond Doss was a medic, never picked up a weapon and saved 75 men by lowering them down from a freaking cliff. I cry every time I watch his interviews and if you want to know his full story watch Hacksaw Ridge. Then there was Private Steven Grant Rogers. Started out as an E-1 and then promoted to a O-3 (or a Captain) and was renamed  Captain America.

Just like how people think of Tom Brady when they think of the Super Bowl, I did the same thing when it came to Captain America and the war. Now, I don't want to say I idolized the man, but I did admire the hero.

My obsession made me major in History and later get a Master's in Conflict Management. Now, I was applying to one of the biggest companies in the nation: Stark Industries. Now, that was partly because I could not find a job anywhere and someone that I went to college with started working in HR and was able to get me an interview. It didn't have to do with anything pertaining to my degree, but it had been a while before I was able to find a job that paid this well. 

I felt like I was running my sponsor dry with his support and I had applied several times to multiple colleges in the city. I mean I had a freaking Master's degree with intentions of pursuing my Doctorate for crying out loud and the best I could do was be a personal assistant.

I was going to be a secretary. Nothing important, but the pay was more than exceptional. 

Stark Tower was intimidating to say the least. Over 90 floors and reflective glass windows. It hurt my neck to look directly up at it. 

When I walked into the building, security instructed me what floor to go to. When I got there, I was greeted with an empty desk. I waited several minutes downstairs before a strawberry blonde woman with cute freckles came down to greet me. "Hi, you must be the secretary applicant." She smiled. "I'm Pepper Potts. So you're resume here is quite impressive and Harrison in HR highly recommended you."

"Yes, I was so excited when he told me you had a position available."

"Usually, I would be doing the interview, but I'm afraid I have to head out on some other business, so if you want to take the elevator to floor 82, Mr. Stark will be waiting."

"Of course." I said holding a folder that contained all the documents he requested I brought in.

"Hello, Mr. Stark." I greeted.

"You must be Pepper's replacement."

"Oh," I said. "Is she not-"

"She's been made COO." He clarified. "She can't leave that easily."

"Oh, good." I said. "She seemed really sweet."

"To you, yes. To me, I can't do anything. Don't put your life in danger, don't challenge terrorists." He mocked. "She's no fun." He walked further into what I assumed was a common room of sorts. It gave no indication that he lived on that floor. There was a full bar and it looked more of a place he hosted parties. "So tell me a bit about yourself." He began to pour himself a drink. "Something that isn't on your resume."

"Um, well, I'm taking a course in French and Greek right now. Just online classes, nothing too time consuming. I prefer dogs over cats because I think that its important if you die, for your pet to at least be sad and I am the first one in my family to live in New York, that I know of. I'm the first girl to graduate with their Master's. I plan on eventually getting my Doctorate, but not for a while. I don't like hot coffee and I'm terrified of snakes."

"Who would actually prefer cats over dogs?"

"Pepper?" I asked to which he laughed, even though it wasn't that funny.

"I like you." He took a sip of his drink. "It's not liquor. Pepper has this rule that alcohol should only be consumed during certain times of the day."

"I think 9:30 on a Monday is acceptable. I was debating on getting Mimosas after the interview if it went well."

"And if it didn't?" He asked.

"I would say tequila, but I got food poisoning from the limes once."

"Really?" He asked.

"Yeah," I said. "I had about 15 limes and felt terrible the next day."

"I prefer a good scotch myself."

"I like anything that doesn't taste like alcohol. I'm really impressed that a bottle of wine can cost thousands of dollar, but I guarantee it can't be as delicious as a Moscow mule."

"I haven't had a Moscow mule in forever." He said. "They were my go-to in college."

"Where did you go to school?" His response was to point at a wall that was covered in awards and accomplishments. "You went to Andover?" I asked looking at his degree.

"Seven years." He said. "I really liked the science department."

"I've given a few guest lectures there. It's a lovely school."

"What was the topic of discussion?"

"The North African campaign during World War 2, but specifically the Battle of Ramree Island."

"History nerd. Nice." Mr. Stark replied sarcastically when the elevator door dinged. "Speaking of historical nerds."

If my legs could have physically turned into jelly at that moment they would. None other than Steve Rogers walked in with a blonde following dutifully behind. "Tony."

"Capscicle and the ice queen." He whispered too low for them to hear.

"Rogers, meet our new secretary." Tony introduced and started to head toward the elevator.

"It is such an honor, Captain Rogers." I said taking his outstretched hand.

"Please, call me Steve." He insisted. The blonde beside him remained quiet and eyed me up and down with a stoic expression.

"Not that I'm trying to cut you off, but I'll let you two old ladies reminisce on the glory days." Tony clicked the elevator door and waited until it dinged opened. "I have somewhere to be. Congratulations. You got the job. Blah. Blah. Blah. Monday at 9, don't be late." He pressed a button I couldn't see and the doors began to close. "Or do. I really don't care, but if you're late, bring coffee."

"He's..." I began, but couldn't quite pick the right word.

"Arrogant." Steve finished.

"I was going to say interesting." I said.

"So what 'glory days' was Stark referring to?"

"Oh. I gave a few lectures about a few battles at the University he went to. Nothing exciting."

"Well Mrs.-"

"It's just Miss." I said. That was stupid. Why did I say that? That was rude to cut him off like that. "Sorry." I apologized. Why was I apologizing?

"Well, Ma'am. It looks like we'll be seeing you Monday morning. If you're late Tony gets a triple shot of espresso and a disgusting amount of sugar in it."

"Being late isn't really my style. My mother always said if you're not early, you're late." Why was a quoting my zealot mother right now. Jesus, stop it.  Not like Jesus Jesus. You know what, never mind. "I think I can find my way out." I said.

The walk back home I felt my cheeks burn the entire time. I haven't even started and I'm already flustered. Jesus, get a grip.

Suddenly my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was him.

*So how did it go?*

*I got the job* I replied back.

*That's wonderful. I'm so proud of you* I couldn't deny the pride that swelled inside of me at his praise.

*Thank you, although I did make a complete ass out of myself*

*How so?*

*Well, my new boss introduced me to one of his partners and I felt like I made a fool of myself.* I typed. *Not partner in the sexual way, but someone he works with. He called Mrs. and I corrected him and said 'no it's just MIss' like it didn't even matter, he was just being polite. Then I quoted my mother. I was just flustered, but I start Monday.*

C didn't reply after that. We were supposed to have a date tonight so I'm sure he would just finish the conversation later. I had a caprese salad, but ate mostly the mozzarella. I showered, shaved and waited until I got a notification.

 *Sorry. Something came up. Regardless, I think you'll do great.* I smiled at his message, but was disappointment that he was cancelling our date tonight. Well the closest thing we came to date nights which usually ended in me being in an unsavory position.

Initially, C and I met on a chat forum in 2016. I was working on my senior seminar and had sort of an open ended question regarding the war. It was something along the lines of taking the notion that if a war on that scale were to happen in today's world in what ways would American citizens contribute to the war effort at home? Back in the 40s most companies like Ford made strictly military equipment. It was an honor to have a government contract whereas now it's more like any other business deal.

I received a lot of interesting responses, but a user named CR0876 replied that shifting the current American ideal of self-preservation to what we had before which was sacrificing for your country was the only way in which today's America could possibly aid in a war. I messaged CR0876 to further discuss the topic. 

He wrote me: All I am saying is we now live in a day and age where you have people who won't vaccinate their children simply because they choose not to. They don't have an issue with you vaccinating your kids, but not theirs. We eradicated some of the deadliest diseases that are still present in some third-world nations and you have entitled people who don't trust science to preserve the health and well-being of not only their children, but everyone they come in contact with. The reason that our life expectancy has shot up isn't because of ground breaking medical break throughs like chemotherapy, it is for preventative measures. Getting vaccinated. Getting checkups. Wearing sunscreen. Washing your hands after wiping your ass. 

A few minutes later he sent an apology for getting so riled up in his rant and I told him that no apology was needed and I completely agreed with him. From then on our friendship started to blossom. 

Most of our conversations had something to do involving the war, but then it got more personal. I felt comfortable with him. I talked about my time at college and what I was studying. We went from a few messages a week to communicating everyday. Eventually when graduation came around, I offered him a graduation ticket. I was a little disappointed to find out it was too far for him to travel. He asked for my mailing address. That he felt guilty for missing such a big event and he wanted to make it up to me. I was a little apprehensive. I mean, we were taught to never give your stranger your address, but I was an RA in a college dorm. I would be out into the real world soon and he wouldn't know my room number or what I looked like.

So I sent it.

A few weeks passed and I got a pair of beautiful pearl earrings with a card that read. A beautiful girl always needs a set of beautiful pearls. Congratulations on all of your hard work. -C

Four and a half years later and I still have that card. We still talk about the war. I recommend him movies, while he recommends books then we both point on the inconsistencies. It was stupid, but it was fun. Now, I just sort of tell him about my day to day life and he tells me small tidbits about his. It was earlier in 2020 when the pandemic hit that things started to get... well things just changed.

I had just moved to New York in early February to start teaching at a local college. I was going to start with May-mester classes, but then Covid hit and the world stopped. 

I had moved in with little to nothing. I had a few pieces of stuff for the kitchen and a bed. It wasn't much, but it was mine and I was damn proud of it.

My pride was short lived when I got the e-mail. In a panic, I sent him a message.

Hey can you talk?

Sure. What's up?

Is there anyway you can call me? I'm kind of in a bad place right now and I really don't have anyone else to talk to. I felt guilty as soon as I hit the send button. I'm not like going to hurt myself or anything I am just super stressed and if you have the time and energy, I just need to unload some stuff.

Seconds later my phone began to ring.

"What's wrong?" He asked. I took a deep breath. I can't believe this was the first time hearing his voice. It wasn't what I was expecting. I expected almost a pompous scholarly tone in his voice. But instead he was borderline on being batman. His voice was deep.

"They rescinded my offer." I took a deep breath. "I just spent all of my savings literally to move to this stupid freaking city and they told me over an e-mail 'we are sorry to inform you that your offer for employment has been rescinded until further notice due to the impending pandemic and the unforeseeable circumstances it holds. We deeply apologize for the inconvenience and wish you the best in your future endeavors.' They said sorry and good luck." 

There was a pause and I heard him sigh. "Sweetheart, I am so sorry." 

"Thanks." I rubbed the back of my neck. "Looks like that chapter closed before it got any good. I guess I can see if maybe I can do virtual learning for a high school, but I don't know if my degree is enough. I think you need an education degree to teach."

"But you always wanted to teach college..." His disappointment matched mine.

"I know..." I looked down at nearly clear streets of New York. "But I need a job, C." I sighed. "It's either that or call my parents and I would literally rather be homeless than ask them for help."

"How much?"

"What do you mean?"

"How much was your job going to pay you?"

"80k a year starting." I said and felt another wave of nausea wash over me. 80k wasn't much to some, but it was a lot for me and it would be doing something I loved.

"Tell you what, that is about 6 and a half grand a month. I will pay you 7 grand a month if you promise me not to give up."

"What?" I couldn't believe this. "There is absolutely no way I could ever accept that kind of money."

"It's not like I don't have it, Princess." He can't be serious. That's crazy. He never mentioned having money or being well off. 

"And what do you want in return?" The butterflies in my stomach began to churn. God I hope he wasn't wanting to do anything... unethical. "Surely you wouldn't do that just because you want me to be a college professor."

"Nothing." He said. "Absolutely nothing. I just want you to be taken care of and pursue your dream."

"I really can't let you do that."

"It's only temporary." He tried to assure me, but I still felt guilty. 

"C-" He was always so argumentative and authoritative over messaging and he matched it over the phone.

"I promise." He interrupted. "It won't put a dent in my wallet."

"Only until I have a full-time job." I tried to say.

"Until you become a professor."

"No," I said. "As soon as I get a job and can support myself."

"Sweetheart, it's not polite to argue."

"I appreciate it." I said. "I really do."

"So does that make your day a little bit better?" He asked.

"It does."

"Anything else gone wrong you need help fixing?"

"No." I responded and felt like a child and and adult came up to fix the mess I had made.

"Good." I heard him sigh. "I'm glad that was easy to fix and now, that I got you on the phone... it's nice to finally hear your voice."

Chapter Two: Confessions

[elphiej]

Be My Light - Chapter 9: Welcome to The Magic Shop

*Genre: Mafia, Angst, Slow burn, eventual smut

*Warnings: Mentions of violence, abuse, and torture

Authors Note: I have risen from the darkness!!! To any of the readers who are in my tag list that are still interested, thank you so much. I completely understand with the inconsistancy but I promise to try better. Like I said in the alert, I really wanted to get this out before Jin’s enlistment, then Hobi’s and Yoongi’s birthday. But I was finally able to finish it before my own birthday. I’m so excited that it’s finished and I am so proud of how it came out. I do hope any who read this will enjoy it and be patient for the next. There is so much happening soon. If anyone is going to be going to the Chicago concert, I’ll be there and would love to say hello! Stream D-Day all, it’s giving me some new inspirations. I love and appreciate everyone. Please feel free to drop a comment, like, or anything. 

Tag list: @lolalalooo, @bangtan-sonyeonddaeng, @barbikatherine,  @mrsfortune1306, @lovesick-heart0, @iamnamjoonsbxtch, @deathkat657, @deeepvibes, @sugamonster22, @weiinihao, @hemmofluke, @rainbow-zebra-unicorns, @joyfullyobsessed-blog, @elvencantation, @thefreddieman, @whateveritis616, @crewzie-chan, @wyomingphantom, @killbillv1, @kyrah-williams, @utterlynuts, @ot7jellostan, @zahraaelamira, @shesaysweirdthings, @toriluvsfics, @emu007, @zae007live​

                                     Chapter 9: Welcome To The Magic Shop

          Jungkook loved the smell of the sea. It reminded him of his life before Bangtan. If he closed his eyes, he could see the sandy beach that was just outside his hometown that his family would visit every summer. He could almost feel the warm sand under his feet, the cool splash of the water, the sounds of his parents laughing and calling out to him. But when he opened his eyes, there was no sandy beach, and his parents were so far away. What he was looking at was the dark, murkiness of North Central Harbor, still and quiet in the dead of the night.

           Surveillance was not Jungkook’s favorite job; it left him too much time alone with his thoughts. He preferred to be as active as possible, surrounded by his teammates. But ever since the disastrous exchange with Choi and his band of idiots, RM had been giving him easy jobs until Jin cleared him of his injuries. He loved his hyungs more than he could explain, but they were smothering him more than usual. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying the extra attention, like Jin feeding him his favorite foods, lounging against Jimin while Taehyung played with him, or even curling up next to one of his hyungs in their room. And there, he’d be met with slow backrubs, feather-light fingertips brushing against his skin, being babied and worshipped in all the best ways. But he wasn’t allowed to do any fun vigorous activities or be on protection duty because they were worried that he’d hurt himself more. And with Choi rearing his ugly mug again, Bangtan had been treating him like that little boy who had they had just rescued from the Royals ‘recruitment’ van, like he was too pure and delicate to help. Like they were scared he’d get hurt or taken again. He wasn’t that nervous fifteen-year-old who was unprepared anymore. He was an experienced, highly trained fighter who was more than willing to do whatever it takes to get things done. He was missing the rough side of their love. And maybe when he got home, he’d use those skills to pin his hyung down and show them that he was tired of the gentle caress and slow, over-thought movement.

           But for now, here he was, alone, watching ships unload things that didn’t mean anything to him. He had been stationed at the docks for three days since Namjoon got word from Jackson that something of interest was coming in. But in true Jackson style, he never gave more details as to what or when. Only that it was very interesting. The harbor had its normal ships coming and going that had no affiliation to be seen. Jungkook had been able to hack into the harbors scheduling system and downloaded the documents of incoming and outgoing details. But none seemed worth their interest. The only thing that the young man thought Jackson could have found interesting was the ship that had docked itself just outside the harbor. Jungkook had recognized its flag instantly. While the majority of gangs and Mafia families were spread throughout the districts, a few had chosen to go the route of modern piracy. Under the signa of a red compass, the Ateez crew had made a formative name for themselves. Bangtan had had a few tussles with them in the past, but Jungkook wouldn’t classify them as enemies. As far as he was concerned, the pirates weren’t affiliated with anyone but themselves. They were only out for their own interest by stealing, selling, or trading whatever their community needed.

           For the past three days, Ateez’s black ship lay still on the outskirts of the harbor, with the members shuttling over on smaller vessels. From what Jungkook had seen, they weren’t doing too much more than shore leave. But why wouldn’t they bring the ship closer? This couldn’t have been what Jackson was talking about. It wasn’t interesting. The maknae was so bored of watching the pirates go to and from the town, chatting on what dive bar they wanted to go see. They hadn’t come to shore since the previous evening. And he would have gone insane with boredom had it not been for Jimin and Taehyung keeping him up to date on all that was happening at the hospital. Taehyung had informed him of what all had happened between you and Yoongi and how upset you had been. And while his elder hyung’s behavior didn’t surprise him, he was disappointed that he had hurt you. Jungkook couldn’t really explain it, but he enjoyed being around you, even if he had spent the least amount of time with you since that first night. He found you to be quite genuine and nice; someone he wanted to be friends with. And it had been some time since he felt so comfortable with someone that quickly since he had first met Namjoon. Hell, he had known Jackson for years and still didn’t fully trust that he wouldn’t send his hyungs on a wild goose chase.

           Jungkook had seen that Taehyung had added you to the group chat before he was given his assignment. But you weren’t very active in it, making simple or one-word responses to anything directed at you and nothing else. Jungkook thought about sending you a private text after he had heard what happened. But he wasn’t sure if he should. You weren’t responding to Jin or Taehyung when they had messaged you over the last few days, according to them, so why would he be any different? And what was he supposed to say? ‘Hey, how are you? My hyung can be a dick but don’t take it personally. I’m bored. Let’s talk.’ Yeah, that would go over well. Sometimes, he wished he was better at words. He hadn’t even been responding to the players on the online forum he was a part of who were wondering why he hadn’t been active in so long. His favorite opponent, ElectricLlama, had been sending quite a few over the last few hours. But he couldn’t very well tell them that he was currently on a stakeout and didn’t bring his gaming laptop. God, he was so bored.

           It was after 2:00AM when something started to happen.

           The Ateez boys hadn’t left the ship the whole day. Jungkook brought his attention away from a text from Hobi when the sound of engines firing up broke the silence of the night. While pirates never stayed in one place too long, something seemed off. The ship moved from open seas into an empty spot in the harbor. The crew had secured the ship in record time and started to unload some cargo. While this seemed normal, what they were unloading, and the twitchy way the crew kept looking around, was intriguing. It was no secret that the local dock workers were easily bought to unload the cargo and fake documents so they could easily blend into the rest of the ships. Of course, it wasn’t difficult since Ateez was known for bringing in high-end clothes and merchandise that most of these dock workers could only dream of having. But what they were unloading on their own was not high end; there were boxes of cheap cellphone accessories, anti-smoking products, and a few other random bits that just seemed odd for Ateez to have. It still wasn’t farfetched that Jackson may have been messing with them. Maybe they were just contracted to get random stuff for a high price?

           Then, a familiar black car rolled up that made Jungkook swallow his past criticism of Jackson. Yao stepped out of the car first, still bruised from their previous encounter. The Suit surveyed the work before moving to the back of the car. Choi stepped out, looking clean and pressed as always. And he was followed by another. The newcomer has their head down and hood up so Jungkook couldn’t get a good look at them even after he had moved closer to the scene. If he had to guess, it must be a new client of the Royals, or a new gang leader coming to partner with them. Or worse.

           Hongjoong, Ateez’s leader and captain, hopped down from the ship and came to greet them. The mullet-haired leader ushered the two towards the stacked boxes and opened one to be inspected. Jungkook had been taking pictures the entire time to send to Namjoon. He zoomed his camera in to see that the products in the box were indeed what was written on it and not some clever way to hide weapons. Choi turned towards the hooded one and received a nod of approval, before snapping their painted fingers. Yao responded to the newcomer’s signal and presented Hongjoong with a briefcase. Who ever this hooded one was, they had enough power to wordlessly order the Suits around. Once the pirate took the briefcase and bowed to them, Choi called out for his men to back a truck up and load the goods. And as quick as the transaction was, the Suits were packed and gone. Jungkook made sure to get clear pictures of the truck’s tags, the people moving them, and the boxes, and sent them to RM.

           So, he thought, Ateez is working with the Royals now? They must have been promised something big. But what would Choi want with such trash. And who was that with him?

           He didn’t have long to linger on that as RM sent back a quick response.

           Rapmon-Hyung: Great work, Bun. We’ll need to go over this with the others. Now get out there. You did very good.

           Me: good enough for a reward?

            Jungkook smiled at the text, knowing Namjoon would pick up what he was asking for. And if he said no, the maknae was not above going full brat-mode. He knew his hyungs well enough.

           Rapmon-Hyung: Well, you have been stuck out there for some time and been so good. What does my Bun want?

           Me: hard and rough? I don’t hurt anymore, and I miss you. The others don’t play like you do. They’ve been too gentle. Barely a make out session

           Rapmon-Hyung: Such a naughty bunny. I didn’t hear you complaining a few nights ago. And here I thought you like all that attention.  

           Me: But not like that all the time! I’ve rested long enough and been so good

           Rapmon-Hyung: We can talk to Jinie when you get back and see if he will give you the all clear. You’re not getting me into trouble with him.

           Me: I won’t tell him. I can be quiet. AND I promise not to bite too hard to leave a mark

           Rapmon-Hyung: Now we both know that is a lie. You can’t help it. I’ll ask later.

           Me: please Sir! I need you!

           That should do it. Jungkook knew exactly what to say to rile his hyungs up, knew each little thing that would affect them. He prayed Namjoon would just give in and not shut him down. Calling Namjoon ‘Sir’, even in text, always made his leader melt. Of course, if Joon drew the line, Jungkook wouldn’t push for fear of disappointment or even punishment. And not the fun kind. But if Namjoon said no, maybe he would switch his attention to Hobi or even Jimin. Sometimes it was easier to guilt and toy with them into giving him whatever he wanted. And Joon hadn’t responded as quickly as he had before. Jungkook was worried he was going to say no. Maybe he should have taken a less direct path, maybe wait until he was in person and tease until Namjoon lost control. Or a different tactic in general. Then his phone buzzed.

           Rapmon-Hyung: Meet me in my study and we’ll discuss what my needy Bun wants. And if he asks me nicely, I may just go against hyung’s orders and give him what he deserves.

           Jungkook could already feel his body reacting to that promise, practically hearing Joon’s husky response. To say he was excited was an understatement; if he wasn’t in public, and possible danger, he would have jumped up and danced in pure joyful ecstasy. It had been such while since he had been with his leader like that. The last time he shared a bed with Namjoon was a few days before he had been sent out with the others to the construction site. And even then, it had just been him curled up against his hyung reading a comic book while the other read his favorite psychology book. No sex, just being in each other’s presence until they feel asleep: it was nice and domestic, nothing more. But after all that had happened, paired with the heavy make out sessions and light touching that went nowhere fast that the others did under strict instructions of their resident medical professional hyung, one couldn’t blame Jungkook for being over stimulated and frustrated. And he was to meet up with Joon in his study? It wouldn’t be the first time they had gotten carried away. He could practically feel the surface of Namjoon’s desk against his back.

           Jungkook shook his head and took a deep breath, trying to clear his head of all the images a single thought spurred. He still needed to get himself to his motorcycle and get back to the Magic Shop. And he knew from experience that trying to drive it while hard was not a pleasant experience. He forced himself to think on the fact that he was going home, back to his own normalcy, and away from this dark, cold dock. He slid his phone into the back pocket of his black jeans and zipped up his leather jacket. His surveillance bag lay at his feet, carefully packed and ready to return home. He reached into the front pocket of the bag for his bike keys. Yoongi-hyung and Jimin-hyung had bought it for him as a birthday present, remarking how it fit his adventurous attitude. Jungkook had hidden it well amongst the covered equipment not too far from where he was stationed. He just needed to sneak back to it. Brown eyes moved back to the pirates, still milling about the dock. But thankfully, they were not paying any attention in his direction, too busy congratulating themselves and gathered around to look at the prize they had just received. It should be easy to get away. He slung his bag over his shoulder and turned away from the interesting, yet depressing site.

           Only to come face to face with one of Ateez’s high-ranking members, Seonghwa Jungkook remembered his name to be, who glared down at his with sharp eyes. And perched on top of upper railing like a cat ready to pounce, was the pirates’ most unpredictable fighter, San. Jungkook had gone up against San before, years ago when Ateez and Bangtan got caught up in a mild misunderstanding on territories. And from what he could remember, San’s was tough back then. He could only imagine how he had changed over the years. But Jungkook had been training too and he would love to see how they compared now. However, fighting was not on the agenda. RM had made that perfectly clear that he was only to observe, not cause trouble. However, if they started it, he was allowed to defend himself.

           “Well, well, look what we found here, San. A small, Bangtan rat hiding amongst the trash where he belongs,” Seonghwa said, stepping up to be nose to nose with Jungkook.

           “You’re a long way from home, little boy,” San sneered down. Jungkook almost laughed, seeing as he was two years older than the pirate.

           “To what do we owe the snooping? One would think you’d have enough decency to come make yourself known, like the gentleman you and yours always say you are.”

           “Yeah,” San agreed with his hyung, hanging further over the railing, “what are you doing hiding like a common rat? You’re lucky we didn’t shoot onsite. We sometimes do that on the ship when we get bored.”

           “And what a political nightmare that would have been for you,” Jungkook countered, shooting the cocky pirate a stunning look. “The docks are not under any territory. They are neutral grounds. Which means, you half-drowned idiot, I can be here for no other reason than I want to be. One might wonder what you’re doing here?”

         “Seems like you answered your own question,” Seonghwa retorted. “We are allowed to be here if we want too. Just here on holiday. Seas been kinda rough.”

           “Seems like more than that from where I was sitting.”

           “Ah, so you were spying on us. What would the other clans think about that?”

           “Nothing in the code says I can’t if I happen to already be in the area. I’m not blind, nor am I dumb. I was told there was something interesting and I came to investigate. And I found you lot and the Royals. You know how most of the Mafia families feel about that. Especially after what Choi tried to pull on our last meeting on Hallow Ground.”

           “Yeah, we heard about that. Shame,” yet Seonghwa’s voice sounded less than sincere. “And who said there was anything happening? We just had a business transaction. Nothing more. We have nothing to hide.”

           “Is that so? Then who was that with Choi?”

           “An old friend, I assume. My job wasn’t to question who I was meeting. If you were so interested, you should have come say hello. I’m sure they would have loved to have seen you face to face. The only thing I know about them, is there is something stirring up in the ranks.”

“Then as a business man, information can be bought. We can set aside our past for a price.”

“You’re money is worth less than you think. We wouldn’t stoop so low,” San snarled.

“But we will share this little secret with you for free.” Seonghwa retrieved a box of matches from his coat pocket. He slipped one out and struck it against his jacket, flame igniting with expert practice. Only to be blown out immediately, the smoke dancing around Jungkook in a telling way. “Misfortune is in your future. There’s a change in the air, whispers amongst some of the families, a change in perspective. Some of them are not too happy with how things are anymore. Not happy with how your little group has shifted the playing field. They say Bangtan’s all talk and lies. They’re starting to think that all that talk of what you did all those years ago with the Royals is all bullshit and that you paid for your allies to collaborate with your story. Especially with some new information being spread in the shadows. So, you best prepare yourselves. The tides are about to change and you better hope that you and yours don’t drown. Wait, doesn’t one of yours already have experience with that?”

Jungkook’s anger surged before he could control it, snarling as he pushed up against the smirking pirate. His fists were shaking as he restrained himself from breaking Seonghwa’s jaw.

“Watch it, tiger,” Seonghwa tsked in a condescending tone. “Looks like we struck a painful nerve. Tell me, cause we’re all a little curious. What’s hurts more to remember: seeing him under the water or hearing him scream after you guys revived him?”

“You better shut your fucking mouth,” Jungkook growled, teeth grinding as he tried to keep it together.

“Or what? You wouldn’t want to start a feud with us. How would that look to the masses you’re trying to keep on your side?”

“Oh, believe me, I won’t throw the first punch. But I’ll finish it.” Jungkook had promised RM that he wouldn’t start anything if he was discovered and act as diplomatic as possible. But the maknae was sure his leader would understand if he knew what the pirate had said. None of them would let that slide so easily. He knew the pirate was just trying to get a rise out of him to use against him. Though, anyone who knew the whole story would most likely understand. “You’ve heard what we’ve done to people who try and fuck with us. Hell, you’ve seen what we did back then. I can assure you, we’ve only gotten better. And we don’t need to pay anyone off. They know what we did back then. And we can do it again. So, don’t try me.”

“Well,” Seonghwa said, stepping back from the enraged boy, “from what our new friend can attest, you don’t know what you’re talking about. But who am I to ruin the surprise. Just remember the bigger they are, the heavier the smoke they’ll leave behind when all those lies go up in flames. You keep feeding into those stories your hyungs keep sowing. Meanwhile, we’ll do what we do best and ally ourselves with whomever can get us the farthest. Until we don’t need them anymore. Now, how about you run along home? I’m sure the Mad Leader will be wondering where his little toy is.”

“You wait, Seonghwa. Choi may be able to spin a web of lies that sound better than the truth. But once he gets what he needs, he’ll turn on you and wipe out your whole crew. He learned from Ji how to use people until they break. Then, he’ll move on to the next. Now that Ji’s gone, he’ll just keep the toxic cycle going.”

“Speaking of going,” San drew his fingers to his mouth and let out a loud whistle that cut through the silence of the dock, alerting his crew in a practiced cue. Instantly, everything behind Jungkook stopped and he could feel more than a dozen pairs of eyes on him. They didn’t move, waiting for the next signal to pounce. Jungkook knew it was just a scare tactic; he would have been attacked up by now if that was the plan. And while he was certain he could take a few of them down, he needed to be smart. He had enough information for Namjoon to work with, and still promised he wouldn’t cause any trouble.

With a mask of unbothered ease, Jungkook waved off the pirates, grabbed his bag from his feet, and made his way away from the docks. The two only watched after him until he rounded the corner, then he could hear them laughing as they returned ship side. The sound rubbed the maknae the wrong away. How he wanted to wipe that grin off of Seonghwa’s face, especially after what he said. But there were more pressing matters. Jungkook stopped in front of his motorcycle, hiding amongst the cargo. He pulled it out and mounted up, bringing it roaring to life. It was time to get home and let Namjoon know what he just found. As he tore out onto the road, on a confusing route to throw off anyone who may have been trying to follow him to the Magic Shop, he replayed the interaction over in his head. Ateez had always been neutral, no matter who they fought against. Even when they had gone against Bangtan, the pirates made no sign that they held any ill will against them. There were so many neutrals who maintained their stance to only work for the good of their people. But it would seem like Choi and whoever the shorter person was had been able to manipulate Ateez into believing something that turned their allegiance. He could only hope that whatever Choi was doing wouldn’t spread to other gangs. Jungkook hoped Namjoon could make sense of it. He just had to believe.

                                     ***********************

 “I can’t believe you wrestled me away from the cashier just so you could pay for me,” you hissed at J-Hope with no real venom attached, trying not to smile at the situation. “I don’t think I can ever show my face at Holli’s Café again.”

J-Hope laughed at you as the two of you made your way out of the hospital elevator towards Yoongi’s room. He took a sip from his coffee as he bumped his hip against yours. “No, I can’t believe that you still won’t let us pay for you. It’s been two weeks now.”

“Okay, well,” you countered, trying to continue this game, “I can’t believe that you won’t let me use the money that you pay me. I’m pretty much caught up on my rent. I would love to actually enjoy it.”

“Well,” J-Hope said, “I can’t believe you don’t realize how much money we actually have. And how nice it is for us to spoil someone that’s not us. And there are more of our drinks here than yours,” to emphasis his point, he lifted the drink carrier in his left hand. “So, it only made sense to pay for it. And, if you had just let me pay when I first said, I wouldn’t have to lift you up and spin you away. So there.”

You sighed. “I can’t even win a word game with you. You guys have paid for everything: my food, my tea, this coat. One of these days, I’d like to use my pay.”

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. Those eyes may work on Jimin, but I have three boys at home who use those same eyes on me when they want something. I’m not falling for it. Don’t fret so much. Most girls love to be pampered. I mean, didn’t your old boyfriend ever pamper you?”

You paused just outside the door. You hadn’t mentioned anything to them about the past you could remember, let alone your miserable excuse of an ex. And why should you have? That wasn’t professional or necessary, no matter how friendly you had gotten. Thinking back to when you could remember, Daniel had been nice at one point to you but still never did anything like what they were doing. Sure, he bought things, but they weren’t specifically to be sweet once you actually looked at it. He bought you flowers once. But that was after he had said some nasty things to you. You couldn’t consider that? But hadn’t he taken care of you when you were recovering from the accident? Did that count? You weren’t even sure anymore. Surely your father had before the accident. But it was all a blank. But Amber must count, right? She had given you a place to stay, consistency, a friend. She bought you coffee sometimes but would let you pay, too. Or was that what she did because she knew your background or was it because she knew you needed it? It felt different.

“I don’t know,” you answered, slowly, as you felt his gaze on you. It was a calculating gaze that made you wonder what he gathered from your silence and expression. Taehyung was the same way on the first day. “I wish I could remember from before. I must have. But I can’t really say that I have. And I’d rather not think about my ex if you don’t mind. I’ll just say this whole having people be like this is a new experience for me. It’s a little weird. I feel a little bad excepting all of it sometimes. I know you all keep saying its nothing, but all these things must add up. I don’t want to cause any trouble. Sometimes, I feel like I’m just taking and taking like some parasite.”

“Oh, that’s not true. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up some harsh memories. I forgot about the…um.. condition. But honest, we like taking care of things. It’s like our love language. And after all you’ve done for us, we want to say thank you. We’re so used to each other just taking it that I guess we forget that it can be overwhelming. I’m sorry if we made you feel that way. But it really doesn’t bother us. Trust me. I forget that this can be a bit much to people who never had someone do these things. Back when we first got together, we barely had enough money to afford a one-bedroom studio and food. We struggled a lot in the beginning. I remember when we first got Jungkookie, it was around his birthday. So we scrimped and saved to buy him some graphic novel he had been looking at. He was so sad when we gave it to him because he thought we starved ourselves. But we wanted to make him happy. Even now, buying gifts for each other is more about what’s behind it than the gift itself. And it’s not like we go around buying diamonds and oil rigs every day. We are smart with our income. We invest and save. Hell, we donate to charities all the time. Anonymously of course. So, we don’t mind. But we can try to be more considerate of your feelings.”

“Does that mean you’ll let me buy lunch today?”

“No, but not for the reason you think.”

As he gave you a reassuring smile, you couldn’t help but think about what he said. Who had heard of a Mafia lord donating to charities or being so thoughtful about their gifting. There wasn’t much information about Bangtan’s beginning that you could find through the internet or newspapers. Did they really struggle? Was turning to drugs the only way they could survive? But they seemed so wholesome when they were with you.

You swung open the door to Yoongi’s room and were caught off guard by what you saw. There was a strong smell of chemicals erupting from the room. And Taehyung was snapping off a pair of used gloves, covered in something orange. Next to him on the table were a few bottles, gels, a mixing bowl, and an application brush. Yoongi sat on the bed, a towel draped over his head. The younger smiled at you as he rubbed the towel across his hyung’s hair.

“Hobi-hyung, Y/N, what do you think of my masterpiece?”

With a flourish, he yanked the towel away. Yoongi groaned, clearly over Tae’s dramatics, as he tried to smooth down his damp hair in a more pleasing way. His platinum blond hair was now a ginger color. Once it dried, you were sure it would look very natural against his pale skin. You tried not to stare but he didn’t make it easy on you looking the way he did. He had, also, changed into more normal clothes: a pair of jeans and a white sweater. His sling was on, meaning he and Taehyung must have done it after the shower Yoongi must have taken, judging by the residual steam coming from the adjacent bathroom. Doctor Na must had been by before you got there and removed the IV from his arm. You supposed the doctor deemed it unnecessary since Yoongi was healing quite well.

“Oh, my goodness, Hyung looks so cute! He reminds me of that tabby cat that hangs around the Magic Shop,” J-Hope all but gushed, running over to inspect Yoongi’s hair closer.

Yoongi reached down for a handheld mirror that was laying on the bed. “You couldn’t have made it black like I asked for?”

“We’re out of it. And with all the missions Namjoon-hyung’s been sending me on the last few days, I haven’t really had the time to order some more. So, I had to work with what I still had in supply. Luckily, I had some of this red left over from when I did Hobi-hyung’s.” Taehyung placed his hand on Yoongi’s forehead and tipped it back so he could stare down into the elder’s eyes. “Be thankful. I could have gone with the pink that I have from dying Jin’s hair.”

J-Hope gasped. “He would look so cute in that too. He looks good in any color. But with his pale skin and pink hair, he would have been our resident cotton candy! So sweet and tempting.” You were sure had Hobi been on Yoongi’s other side, he would have been hit with more than just a glare.

“Very tempting,” Taehyung said, “but I think the red suits you more. You definitely have the temper to match it. Besides, you always go black or brown. I think this makes you look so sexy. The guys are going to love it. And I needed something unexpected yet natural enough not to draw attention.”

Yoongi grumbled something that you couldn’t hear. But Taehyung laughed and released his hyung while he looked for something in his bag. His dark eyes fell on you and a tinge of color erupted in his cheeks when he caught you staring.

“What do you think, Y/N?”

You snapped out of it. “I think it looks nice on you. Very suiting.”

“She definitely means sexy,” Taehyung teased as he returned to his work, combing his hyung’s hair. Now both of your faces were turning red.  

You cleared your throat, trying to hide your embarrassment. “So, were you a hairdresser before or just got bored and he couldn’t escape?”

“Hardly,” Taehyung laughed. “Just a street artist looking at a different canvas.”

“Taehyung always helps us when we want to change our look. He’s got an eye for it. Besides, we can’t keep the same look for long. The enemy would have an easy time finding us if we kept our hair the same for more than a couple months. Choi’s men will be looking for a platinum blond when we leave. This will help us blend in. They haven’t seen me since my color faded. And Tae can hide his under a beanie. It’s all pretty simple.” J-Hope handed Yoongi his Americano and Taehyung a hot chocolate before hopping up from the bed and picking up some items from the room.

You reached for the charts and looked through everything to get you prepared for the day, not that you weren’t already in a routine; morning medication with something to eat, followed by some physical therapy with Yoongi’s shoulder, then some down time before lunch and more medicine. Maybe you could convince Yoongi to get out of this room and go for a walk around the hospital again. He was already dressed in warmer clothes; perhaps he was looking forward to it. You left the room for a moment to grab the medication from the counter. What was odd was there were very full bottles waiting for you. Normally these were for when the patient was going home. But you hadn’t heard of Yoongi being discharged. It wasn’t in his file. You supposed it was a mistake, or it was just to be readily available for when he did eventually leave, and your contract was over. You took up the medication bottles and shoved them into the pockets of your jeans. Since the guys had insisted that you could be more relaxed in your dress code, you had dressed for the cold and donned a pair of warm black jeans, a grey thermal shirt, and the purple coat Yoongi had given you. You always had a pair of extra scrubs to change into if needed hidden in your backpack.

“Alright,” you said as you reentered the room and handed Yoongi his medicine for the morning, “after we get some food in you, how about we work on some new exercises for your shoulder? You seemed like you may be up for it yesterday. Then perhaps a nice stroll around the hospital wings again?”

You were met with a deafening silence and three sets of confused eyes that stared back at you. The three exchanged glances with each other, communicating with raised eyebrows and head tilts that meant nothing to you. But with years of practice, they seemed to understand.  

“What,” you questioned. “We don’t have to do that if you don’t want. I was just suggesting…”

“Did Namjoon speak to you,” Hobi asked.

“No,” you said, warily. “I haven’t spoken to Namjoon since the first day. Why? Did I miss something?”

Yoongi ignored your question and looked between the other two. “Didn’t Namjoon say he was going to explain everything a few days ago? Or was I high on pain meds?”

“No,” Taehyung dragged out. “Point one: you haven’t been that doped up since that time that Jin-hyung was so tired that he doubled our doses after the Big Fight. And point two: Namjoon-hyung definitely said he was going to tell her a few days ago at dinner. He swore he would explain everything and get it set up.”

“To be fair, it seems like he started to. But with all that’s been happening over the last few days,” Hobi interjected. “I mean, what with all the extra assignments he’s had to monitor, the conferences he’s had to deal with, the information Jungkookie came home with…”

“Not to mention Jungkookie…,” Taehyung smirked, only to have J-Hope reach out to smack him on the back of the head. You didn’t try to understand why as you were still trying to figure out what they were alluding to in regard to you.

“For a genius, he can be such a dumbass,” Yoongi groaned.

“Either way, he’s been a bit stressed out. We can forgive him for forgetting. He must have gotten his days confused and didn’t set a reminder to tell Y/N.”

You stomped your foot to grab their attention. “Please, can someone fill me in on what I’m supposedly missing here?”

The three gang members, suddenly, looked so small, almost like they were all trying to figure out how best to explain. You wondered if calling Namjoon would have been easier.

Yoongi cleared his throat. “Look, I’ve been in this hospital for almost two weeks. That’s too long. And the longer I’m here, the more dangerous for the innocent people who are here it becomes. The Royals have been scouting out this place, just trying to get a glimpse of any of us. Not to mention you. So, I’m leaving today. That’s why Taehyung had to dye my hair quickly and make me look as inconspicuous as possible. I can do the rest of my healing back at the Magic Shop, under Jin-hyung’s care. Doctor Na already came in and said things were ready to go.”

And that was why the full medicine bottles were there, you realized. You looked about the room and finally noticed that all the things they had brought Yoongi was missing. All his papers were placed in a file, sitting neatly on the table next to all of Taehyung’s supplies. All of it pieced together in your mind. They were actually leaving. That meant that you were free of them, right? Your contract must end when Yoongi set foot off the property. Of course, you were relieved. But you would be lying if there wasn’t a small part of you that would miss them. Despite how you felt at the beginning, they had treated you very well and gave you a lot to consider. Though, there was main part of your brain that reminded you that they were purposely keeping their real work from you, the U4-1A part. You couldn’t wait to be free of that stress. You were thankful for all they had done and would take that as full payment for this ‘life-debt’ they kept saying they owed you.

“Oh,” you said, composing yourself as you would for any patient that was leaving your care, “I see. I didn’t realize. Well, I’m sorry to see you guys go so soon. Here, let me make sure everything is in order. I have all your medications here; the instructions are on the bottle. But I’m sure that Jin will know what to do. Let me double check all the paperwork before you go to make sure Doctor Na printed out all the correct things. I’m sure there’s no release papers since all this is hush-hush.” You made your way over to the folder and flipped through it, blind to the confused faces that stared after you. “Oh, he didn’t print out the instructions for your shoulder exercises. I can do that really quick. You remember how to do them right? I mean, you have my number so you can call me at any time if you have questions. It was quite the adventure meeting you. I hope the next time we meet it’s under different circumstances.”

“Wait, Y/N, I think you’re confused,” Yoongi said, grabbing your attention. “I’m just leaving the hospital for everyone’s safety. But there is still treatment needed. We are just changing locations. Besides, we still need to keep an eye on you. There are reports of Choi’s men still trying to locate you. And you’ll be safe at the Magic Shop. No one but us knows where it is.”

“Wait, what?”

Taehyung smiled. “You’re coming home with us. You’ve been promoted to in home care.”

“Your contract is until Hyung’s treatment is complete,” Hobi reminded you. “And all of this can be done in the safety of the Magic Shop. Don’t worry. Jin-hyung basically has a fully stocked hospital room set up with all the things you will need. Plus, it will be easier to keep an eye on you there. By the time we get there, lunch will be ready. See, I told you it wasn’t for the reason you thought.”

“I’m not so sure about this,” you said hesitantly, nerves suddenly rising. “I never realized that I would be working outside of here.”

“It’s going to be okay, Doll,” J-Hope assured you, dropping a new name for you that rolled off his tongue with such ease. “Everything will be ok. Everything is still the same. You’ll still go home afterwards. But instead of this boring hospital room, you’ll be with us. And we have everything at the Magic Shop to occupy yourself.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung said, practically bouncing on his heels with excitement. “You’ll love it there. I’ll give you a tour. And the others are home, and they will love to see you again. It’s gonna be so nice. And I promise, nothing will change. We will still keep the bad talk down.”

“Please, Y/N,” Yoongi added, voice so calm, it soothed your nerves against your own judgement. “I promise everything will be ok.”

You met his eyes.  And just like every other time, you felt compelled to trust him. You couldn’t explain it. Maybe it was just a well-practiced trick he had acquired over the years. But that one part of you that wanted to believe him, clung to that feeling that he cared. The tension and apprehension left your body. You gave a defeated smile and nod, knowing that there was no use trying to disagree, and not just because of how you felt.

Taehyung and J-Hope made quick work of collecting the items and moving them out. Yoongi kept his eyes on you, trying to come up with something to say that could remove that defeated look you wore. He wanted to make you understand them better. When he had snapped at you when you had tried to ask about his past, he didn’t see the point at the time. After a few days, he understood it would strip the idea of this dangerous, violent killer that the media and public had described him. He had struggled with deciding on what to say, or if it would help, when to try and talk to you. But each time, he decided against it. While it would probably help, it wasn’t something he enjoyed talking about. Even Bangtan knew not to bring up certain things with him. Only Joon, who experienced much of the same and was there for him in some dark moments, was able to talk him through some tough nights. He needed to be brave. Though, he was still trying to understand the pull you seemed to have on him. He had been around many different sorts of people and none of them affect him the way you did with a simple look. No one else, except his own Bangtan.

While the other two were taking the last of their things down to their cars, you grabbed a stray jacket on the bed and helped slip it over Yoongi’s shoulders. “Mind your shoulder,” you said as he slipped his good arm into the sleeve. “It’s supposed to be cloudy and cold today.”

“We’ll be alright once we get to the Magic Shop. It’ll be warm and safe.”

“I can’t see how a shop that sells magic wands and trick cards is safer than the hospital,” you grumbled. He started to laugh, low and soft. You stood before him with your hands on your hips. “What’s so funny?”

           “You’ll see soon,” was his cryptic response. He reached out to touch the trim of your purple jacket. “Looks good on you.”

           “Thank you. Taehyung knows how to pick a good one, doesn’t he?” It was your turn to laugh at the sour look the crossed his face. “I’m kidding. You picked out a really nice jacket. I can’t thank you enough. It’s beautiful.”

           “Yes, it is. And so are..”

           “You two ready to go?” Taehyung was leaning against the door frame, pulling a black beanie over his grey hair.

           Yoongi praised Taehyung’s impeccable timing before he had said something he hadn’t realized. Thankfully, you didn’t seem like you had focused on it. You shrugged your shoulders and gave a defeated nod, still uneasy despite your joking behavior a moment ago. The two of you fell into step behind Taehyung as he swung the last of the bag over his shoulder and started down the hall. Yoongi couldn’t wait to get out of this hospital. But his joy was overshadowed by your uncertainty. He trailed behind you and Taehyung as the three of you made it to the elevator, and he could see how tense your shoulders were, the way you clenched your hands. He could practically hear your thoughts.  He had known this was going to be a difficult experience for you. Namjoon, Jin, and him had discussed it prior. Joon and Jin thought that with time, you would be more open to their presence and joining them at the Magic Shop would be an easy topic to bring up. But they were too optimistic. Yoongi knew about anxiety, and yours made his assumption very clear. While you were more comfortable with them during the schedule they had made, there were many safe places and familiar people. Now, you were going to be in unfamiliar territory with only them. The stench of fear and uncertainty rolled off you. If only Joon had remembered to talk to you before today, maybe they could have eased you into this.

           As the elevator door opened to the parking level, Hobi turned to the group once he determined the area clear. “Okay, here’s how we’re going to do this. Yeonjun has been scouting all morning and reported there’s been some Royal goons hanging out front. So, Taehyung is going to take the SUV and pick up the decoy we have coming out front. I’ll text Huening Kai once we split up. And when they follow them, Tae’s going to lead them in circles until they lose him. Meanwhile, I’ll take Hyung and Y/N in the town car. We’ll take the long way home just in case.”

           “Don’t worry,” Taehyung said, squeezing your shoulder in assurance, “this is the easy part. I’ll be there just in time to give you a tour of the Magic Shop.”

           You didn’t know what to say. All of this was happening too fast for you to process. Before you knew it, Taehyung was darting over to the familiar SUV you had used this morning with Hobi while you were being led to a car that was made to look like a fancy taxi. The inside was spacious with leather seats, dark, wooden finishing with soft lighting across the roof that looked like stars, and a partition that separated the driver from the passengers. The windows in the passenger’s sections were tinted so dark you could hardly see the other cars parked nearby. The windows were, also, thick with a shutter in between the panes. You climbed into the back of the car and were followed by Yoongi. Suddenly, your world was closed in, and you felt so hopeless. Hobi whispered something to Yoongi before shutting the door and hopping into the driver’s seat.

            After departing from the parking structure and pulling out onto the main road, all seemed like it was going well. There was plenty of traffic and other luxury taxis from you to blend in without a thought. In the light of day, you still couldn’t make a lot out through the heavily tinted windows. However, as you pulled around to the front of the hospital, Hobi pointed out Taehyung’s SUV was in place. You squinted and could make out the familiar frame leaning against the black car, waving at someone. As your car came to a stop at the light just adjacent to him, you could make out someone walking over to him dressed in a large, hooded coat with platinum hair sticking out, and holding his arm to sell the fantasy that this was Yoongi. Had he not been sitting next to you, you would have been fooled. Taehyung played his part well; he ran up to the decoy and hugged him, fussing and ushering him to the SUV while looking about for anyone who may be watching.

           “Will Taehyung be okay,” you asked as the SUV pulled away.

           “Don’t worry,” Hobi said as he shifted the car and followed the stream of traffic. “If the Royals follow him, Taehyung knows how to get away. He’s gonna have them following themselves by the end of it. He knows these streets better than anyone. I’m sure by the time we get to the Magic shop, he’ll be right behind us. Speaking of, I’m going to close up the windows back there. Nothing personal Doll, but we can’t let you know where we’re going. You understand, right?”

           “I understand. It’s not as if I already don’t know where we are. I only know a small part of the city. But I get it.”

           The car fell into an uncomfortable silence after that. Once the shutters in the back rolled down, the lights from above turned brighter. You wrapped your arms about yourself to keep from panicking. It was this same yoyoing situation you kept battling when it came to anything Bangtan related. Yes, they kept reminding you that they were going to protect you. But you still felt trapped. All the random turns Hoseok made were making you sick. From what you could see from the front windshield, you couldn’t tell where you were at. You hadn’t been lying when you said you only knew a small part of Central; you followed the same route every day since you had arrived. Central was so vast, Amber had told you it was easy to get lost if you didn’t know where you were going. So, she helped you learn the simple bus route from her place to the hospital, and from your apartment. You were already confused about where you are. And that didn’t help your anxiety.

           It only intensified after twenty minutes of twists and turns when Hobi’s phone rang. He announced he needed to take this and started to roll up the partition to give him more privacy. Just before it was fully rolled up, you heard Hoseok state, “yep, we got her. It’s going according to plan.” What plan? While a part of you tried to justify what he said, one part of you started rotating through every horror option it could come up with.

           “I can almost see smoke coming out of your ears,” Yoongi’s voice cut through the silence of the car and stopped all the cycling in your mind. “Everything is going to be fine. We already told you this. He’s just talking to Jin-hyung. He’s checking in on us. He must have already talked to Taehyung. You’re going to be fine.”        

           “You guys keep saying that. And as much as I want to believe you, this is so much for me to take at one time. I don’t know what’s going to happen, if I’m going to wind up in some locked-up room until this contract is up. And then what happens? It’s not like I can just walk away, right? Isn’t that what the movies get right? Am I going to get scared into silence or bought, or drugged, or…”

           “Hey,” he reached out and put a hand on your shoulder, “nothing like that is going to happen. We’re not the monsters here. Just calm down. I promise you’re not going to do anything that isn’t ultimately going to help you. Just take a breath and enjoy the ride.”

           “Oh, that’s so easy to do,” you said as sarcastically as possible. “Every time I start to let my guard down, I get thrown into another scary situation that just reminds me of who I’m dealing with. You guys don’t understand what I’m feeling.”

           “Sure, because none of us were ever forced into something. At least you get to ride in a car with someone trying to make it easy. At least you have people who are trying to explain it to you and show you some kindness. And ultimately, you have people who are changing everything they would normally do to make sure that you are comfortable. Your life isn’t broken and cut off; you still get to see those you want and go home at the end of the day. I would have killed for that. So, trust me if anyone in this car knows how you feel, even just a bit, it’s me. You’re allowed to be unsure and nervous. But know that you are in better hands than I was. You are much safer than I was.”

           He took his hand away and turned to stare at his own reflection in the covered windows. The car once again fell into an uncomfortable silence. You found yourself remembering that day in the hospital when you two had fought. You remembered him telling you that he didn’t have a choice and how angry he got. Maybe he did get it. He wasn’t dismissing your feelings as it may have sounded to any passerby; he was giving you a different perspective. You turned to look at him and saw him struggling with himself, like he was trying to find something else to say but nothing was working. He let out a deep sigh, coming to a resolution after a long moment.

           “I never wanted to do this. Never wanted to join a gang, you know. I really don’t like having to explain this…”

           “You don’t have to tell me anything,” you interjected. “I’m sorry, it’s been hard and I just couldn’t handle my own emotions. I should have taken those anti-anxiety pills Dr. Na wanted me to try. But please don’t feel like you have to tell me things just to make a point.”

           “Stop,” the command had no harshness or power behind it. It was more of a plea. “You had asked me before and I blew up because I was angry and thought you were just being intrusive. But once I thought about it, I figured it would help you see us for what we really are. To see we’re not what people think. This isn’t a fun subject for me. Hell, I don’t think I told the others until a few years after we all got together. I think only Namjoon and Hoseok knew the whole story first. It’s been so many years, you think I would be over this. But just now, I found myself struggling to find the words. But I need you to understand us. I want you to see why we’re here and that you are in safe hands. Safer than I was.”

           You nodded, giving him your full attention.

           “My family lived in a small town outside of Central. My family was poor but hard working. It was just my parents, my older brother, and I in a small apartment. My parents worked all the time just to make ends meet. I assume they cared about me. They never beat me or anything like that, but I wasn’t their primary focus. My brother could do no wrong in their eyes. Whereas I couldn’t meet their expectations. I would come home with B’s, he would have A’s. Nothing I ever did measured up to him. When he graduated, he told my parents he was going to move to Central and open a restaurant. They were so happy. After he was gone, they had asked me what I wanted to do when I was done with school. I wanted to pursue music. I had always loved it and found myself writing lyrics or playing on a piano that was in the lobby of our building. Yes, I was good at it. You can imagine how disappointed my parents were. They told me I needed to find something practical, a job that benefited society. They figured it was a phase and I would come to my senses. But I could never make them happy. After a while, they just ignored me. I think they hoped that I would drop everything to get their attention again. By the time I was thirteen, they had completely given up on me and just considered me a lost cause. I was just a shadow living in their house.”

           “I’m sorry you were made to feel that way,” you told him.”

           “The funny thing was, I was doing so well in school and everything else that I was in line for a scholarship to college, something my brother hadn’t done. My teachers were telling me that I was a genius, that I was going to make it. But there was still a part of me that wanted to make my parents happy. So, when I was fourteen, I started working odd jobs to help them pay the rent. I tried to buy their love and attention. My brother had written to me over the years, supporting my ambition and telling me how hard he was working. He told me once that once he made it, he would help me in my dream. And I believed him because I loved my brother more than my parents or music or myself. I was so stupid back then to believe him.”

           “I was fifteen when my brother had come back to our apartment. Said he was taking a break from work to come see us. He had worked in a bunch of places before using all his savings to buy a place in the high-end part of Central. My parents were so proud that they didn’t even think to ask how he was making it work. They were just so excited to tell the rest of the building how successful their son was. But my brother wasn’t ready to open this place. He didn’t know how to run it. He was in so much debt. He had sold all his belongings to try and save himself. When that didn’t help, he borrowed money from my parents, and they didn’t question it. He should have started smaller or keep learning for a few more years. But he ended up making a deal with the head of the Royals, Ji. My brother didn’t read the fine print where they were to be paid back with interest or they’d take it back in other ways. So, when he came back to our apartment, I knew something was wrong by the way he was acting. Ji and his team came banging on my parents’ door. I suppose my brother thought he could hide but they found him. They came barging in, breaking up the place, and began beating my brother. Ji planned on taking back his money either in cash or in years under his thumb as a slave. My parents begged Ji to spare their son. They were so desperate that they offered to pay his debt. But my parents didn’t have the money. But they had a spare to send in his place. I was younger, could work harder than my older brother, be a better asset to Ji than a broken body who could only cook and gamble away his money. My parents called me out and told me to go with Ji. They said, ‘if you love our family, you’ll finally be useful’. They promised once the debt was paid, we would be a family again. I thought they were crazy, how could they do this to me? But Ji decided he liked the idea. So, I was dragged out of the apartment, screaming and begging for them to do the right thing. But they didn’t. I was thrown into the trunk of a car and taken to their headquarters, where for days I was starved and beaten until I agreed to do whatever they wanted. That’s how they get people to agree to join the Royals, you know. You either die or join.”

           “You really didn’t have a choice,” you concluded with a shocked expression. “That’s awful. How did you survive all that?”

           “I had to adapt. I held onto hope that my brother would start working again and buy my freedom. I held out hope for a few months. But I gave up on them like they had with me. I needed to survive so I did whatever I needed to. I changed my name to hide myself. I learned to steal, shoot, intimidate people into giving me what I needed. And when I was weak, they would make an example out of me for any new person. Choi’s favorite way to punish kids was to beat them until they were on the brink then lock them in a freezer. He’d let you out just before death took you. They thought it would create this dependency on them, brainwash you into believing you needed them to survive. That was Ji’s philosophy. The other three generals were just as bad if not worse. Sol was the one who monitored everything for Ji, making sure it didn’t go too far. He was the one to go out and find the new ‘recruits’. Then, when we were being punished, he would whisper to the new ones how lucky they were to be with him and not with Choi or D or the other. Choi was all about physical punishment. D was sadistic. Someone said he went mad a long time ago and reverted to this childlike state. He made this ‘playroom’ which was a torture chamber, and we were the toys for him to use. He had a tank of water to drown you with, or things to stretch you. Too many things. The youngest general liked to use drugs to mess with you. Meanwhile, Ji would come in and make himself the savior, so you’d swear allegiance to him and escape the pain. I tried not to lose myself. I put up so many walls to protect myself for years. I never stuck my neck out for anyone because no one was going to do that for me.”

           “Then I met Joon. He was kidnapped from some club he had gone to on some school trip. He was so smart but also so dumb. I found myself in him, I suppose, and wanted to protect him. He was just a kid, not yet full of anger like me. And he was always watching and learning. I figured he could be useful. So, I would pair up with him a lot. And for the first time in a long while, I found someone I could rely on. He saved me from falling into the darkness, supported me. We, even, bonded over music together. I guess you could say that we became really good friends in that shit hole. We tried to run a few times. One time we made it to a police station. But Ji already had them in his back pocket and they were just as bad as the Royals. We were put in jail for a few nights before they delivered us back to Ji. And we got in a lot of trouble. But as long as we were still together, we could endure it. After a while, we figured there was no real out except advancing. So, we worked together to keep our real selves from disappearing like Ji wanted.”

           “So how did you get out? Did you just advance enough?”

           “I was eighteen when we finally got out. Three full years for me, two and a half years for Joon. We had learned a lot, had plans. But the one thing neither of us did was kill someone in cold blood. We had learned to shoot, but we had only been in fights where we had to defend ourselves. We had been teamed up with some younger kids to go collect some protection money from a store in the poor part of town. And Sol was with us to make sure we passed his test. The family didn’t have enough to pay and Sol dragged out their kid. Must had been no more than eight years old. Sol handed his gun to Joon and told him to shoot the kid to send the family a message. It would have destroyed Namjoon to do that. Despite what you’ve seen, Namjoon isn’t a coldblooded killer. He’s this big kid just trying to keep it together. And I’m sure Sol wanted to destroy that innocence. He tried to reason with the General, but Sol pushed him. Said if he didn’t shoot him, then Joon would take his place. I didn’t want Joon to do it, couldn’t see him be destroyed or killed. So I pushed Joon out of the way, took the gun, and shot the father in the leg instead. I tried to reason with Sol that shooting the kid wouldn’t make them pay us back, just make them fall further behind in their grief and that wouldn’t pay the bill. I justified that us taking mercy and giving the father a wound as a reminder would be enough. But he didn’t see it that way. He saw disrespect, an act of disobedience that the newer members would learn from. And weakness from Namjoon. So, I was sent to Choi for my punishment. I was always Choi’s favorite to hurt because I’d fight back or say something to fuck with him. And he wanted to be the one to put me in my place. He beat me with fists and metal pipes. Anytime I would pass out, he would wait and then start up again. This went on for hours. Finally, he dragged me to a walk-in freezer and locked me in. Either I would freeze to death or succumb to my injuries, or he would start all over again until I gave in. Unless Ji took mercy on me. He told me that Joon had been sent to somewhere where they would break his mind and leave him there. And I was going to live with that guilt forever. I can’t tell you how long I was in there, but I was so sure that I was going to die.”

           “The next thing I remember was someone shaking me back to consciousness. They picked me up from the frozen ground and brought me out into the detention center and started to wrap up the worst of my wounds. They even put a coat on me. I guess one of the Suits had a change of heart. Couldn’t tell you why. I didn’t recognize him at the time. Probably could now if I saw him. If he’s still alive. But he had told me he was proud of me for saving the family and my friend. Said he saw how I was still human after all that time. I remember telling him that I didn’t care what happened to me but if anyone needed to be saved it was Namjoon. I begged him to rescue him instead. Then he said to me ‘you two are so alike, caring more about each other than yourself. That’s why you’ll be a great team and survive’. He had already rescued Joon. He was waiting outside for us. The man helped us get out of the Royals’ detention center and through the fences that secured it. Once we were in the city, he gave us money and told us to never look back, to find our light of hope. After that, we met Hoseok, and he helped us hide for a while. Then, we started meeting the others and came to the same conclusion that we wanted to make sure the Royals couldn’t continue doing this to others. And Bangtan was formed. We started by intercepting their kidnapping circuit and freeing the kids, then their supply lines, then performing rescue missions. We started protecting, selling, and creating just to destroy them. The rest is history. We led an uprising, the Royals fell, and Ji is dead.”

           You sat there in silence, digesting every word he had said. You couldn’t believe what he had been through. And it made you want to learn about the others’ journeys. But it also made you realize how you had really been letting the preconceived image of them affect you. They weren’t these murdering, drug peddling thugs that you assume all gang members were. They had been tortured but still trying to do something against a greater evil. While you still didn’t approve of the selling of U4-1A, there was so much more to them than you had thought. You felt so bad for him for all the years he had gone through. No wonder he was so angry at the police when you brought it up. Had your father been around back then, you were sure he wouldn’t have been bought by that monster. And Yoongi didn’t have anyone else to turn to but those who had been in his shoes. There was so much more to them than you thought.

           “Did you ever see your family again?”

           His eyes shifted to you for the first time since starting his story. Of course, he had tried to see them again. The first time he had escaped he was almost home when he realized that they wouldn’t want him back. Sol had found him and showed him his brother’s debt, told him how his family hadn’t tried to come for him or buy him back. He, even, drove him to the apartment which had been sold not long after that night. While he had hoped that this was just some mental trick by Sol, three years had made it hard. Then after they had started to make a name for themselves, Bangtan had tried to have some closure with their pasts. He could remember walking on the dirt road to a small house that his family had moved into after that night when he was taken. Jin had pulled some records for him, not that he had asked the elder to do so. Hobi had driven him out there. Said it would be good for him to make amends or something. Actually, all of them had pushed him to see his family again just to help him close that chapter of his angry life. The others had reached out to theirs, whether for good or not. Yoongi remembered seeing his brother’s beat up truck out front as he made his way to the door and knocked on it. He didn’t want to do this. He was still angry, still hurt. He didn’t want to have a family with them anymore. He had found a family that actually wanted him. Why come back to this? Yoongi was about to leave when his brother had opened the door. After five years, his brother hadn’t changed. He looked tired and worn, but the same. But Yoongi looked different, dressed not in hand-me-downs as he had for years, but in expensive clothes he had bought himself with the money he had made from Bangtan. It took his brother a good minute to recognize him. It was the first time he recalled seeing his brother cry as he reached out to hug him.

           “Little brother,” Yoongi remembered him crying, “you’re alive! I’m so happy to see you!”

           “So happy, yet you didn’t try to get me out,” Yoongi had retorted, voice turned gravel over the years of anger and abuse.

           “I know, Yoongi. Trust me, I wanted to so bad. I tried. They didn’t make it easy. I wanted to get you, but I had to get things right. After all the medical bills and the move, it was hard. But I promise you I was trying. I never stopped thinking about you. Eomma and Appa are working but they are going to be so happy to see you when they get home.”

           “I doubt that. They were so ready to give me away. Why would they care if I survive? You can stop pretending like this was some mistake. I’m not here to stay. I just thought you’d like to know I got out without your help. Not that you were actually doing anything. I’m just here to let you know I won’t be around anymore, so you don’t have to pretend.”

           “No, please, it’s not like that. I swear, I was trying. They were trying. They knew they made a mistake that night. I didn’t know that’s what they did until it was too late. We wanted to get you back, but they kept raising the interest on my debt. Every time I thought we were close, it doubled. We asked them to tell you we were trying. We tried asking to see you, but they wouldn’t let us. I filed with the police, but they came up with nothing. Please come inside. Let’s talk about this. You’ve grown up so much, I didn’t recognize you. You’ve been through a lot.”

           “And all because of you. I took a punishment for you because of your stupidness. If you had just done what you were supposed to do, none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t have had my life taken away because I was the screw up spare. You were the screw up. But Eomma and Appa loved you more. I hope you enjoyed your life because I paid for it. Tell them the screw up paid your debt and is now going to be more successful than their favorite. Tell them that I don’t need them because they made me that way. They never cared about me. Ever since I told them I wanted to follow my own dreams, I was nothing to them. Well, they get their wish. I’m now a full member of society, just not how they wanted, I’m sure. You didn’t try anything; I saw the debt you still owed. So, don’t try to sell me this bullshit of how you tried or how you loved me. If you did, I wouldn’t have spent all those years in Hell. If any of you cared, you would have not taken that money or gone in my place like you should. For years, I survived beatings, starvation, and torture all for you. And what do I get out of it? Knowing that for all these years, my parents valued a failure over someone who had a college career laid out for him so he could be someone they could be proud of. Some family. And yet, I’m still doing things for you. Here,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope full of money, “I paid your debt for you. And I’m buying my freedom from you. Spend it, burn it, gamble it for all I care. But you tell them that I, the screw up who was useless to this family, made it by working harder than you ever did. And there is more there than you could have made in a year at your little restaurant. You know, the one that closed in a month because you had too high ambitions and not enough sense. Just had to make them proud and prove you were better than me. Well, now you’re the only son. And I’ve once again helped you out of debt. My final gift to you is a clean slate. There’s enough there to get you to a comfortable state. But if you waste it again, you won’t have me to save you.” He couldn’t stand there anymore. His anger was gushing out like a bleeding wound. It was taking everything in him to not break down. Because that’s not who he was in this moment. He wasn’t the younger brother who was upset with his family for forgetting him. He was the monster who was fueled by the hate of being abandoned for all those years. The person he had to become to protect himself. His members had worked so hard to help him, and this was supposed to be the clousure to help with his pain. He wanted to go home. He turned from his stunned brother to head back to the car.

           His brother grabbed his arm and turned him back, throwing the envelop to the ground. “Yoongi, please…”

           Faster than his brother could anticipate, Suga had yank his arm free and had his older brother pinned against the door frame, with a gun pressed under his chin. “Min Yoongi is dead,” he screamed! “I killed him because of you! My name is Agust, not Yoongi. Not anymore. He’s dead. Your baby brother is dead and gone. Only I remain to tell his story.”

           Yoongi snapped himself out of his memory and back to the present. He hadn’t seen or tried to reach out to his family since. He hadn’t kept track of them either. Yoongi had fallen into a depression after that where the others had to struggle to pull him out of it. But they were there for him, and they were his family. He hated remembering that day just as much as his time with the Royals. But Yoongi needed to remind himself that he had grown from that, and he was fine. He was not ever going to be abandoned again.

           “No,” he told you after taking a second to compose himself. “I know who my family is.”

           At that moment, Hoseok rolled down the partition. You had never seen this part of town before and were sure you had almost crossed into another country at this point. He smiled in the rearview. “You two doing ok back there?”

           “How much longer are we going to drive in circles? Pretty sure she has no idea where we are and if anyone is still following us, I’ll be surprised,” Yoongi asked as he slouched down in the seat.

           “Relax, you grumpy kitty. No one followed us. Taehyung thinks he had someone following him for a bit, but he’s been in the clear for the last twenty minutes. We should be at the Magic shop in ten. You ready to see the Magic shop, Y/N?”

           “I suppose I don’t have a real say in it. But I’m ready for anything at this point as long as I can stand up for a bit.”

           “Don’t worry, Taehyung’s really excited to give you a tour of the place,” Hoseok rolled the partition back up with one last smile to you.

           True to his word, the car came to a halt after ten minutes. Yoongi had fallen silent again, leaning heavy against the window. You figured that trip down bad memory lane had been a lot for him mentally. At one point, the car sloped down and there was a hollow echo as if you had entered an underground tunnel. Was the Magic Shop so well hidden from Choi because it was underground? But how could that be? Then, the car pulled back up and leveled out again. But this must be normal as Yoongi didn’t react to it. The sound of the road changed from the familiar sound of pavement to gravel before coming to a stop.

           Then, Hobi opened the door.

           You weren’t sure what you were expecting but it wasn’t an abandoned, run down train yard paved with gravel stone and packed dirt with weeds. You weren’t sure where in the city you were, but this place looked as if it hadn’t been touched for years. Looking behind the car, you could see the road you had driven in on led to a tunnel that traveled under an elevated part of the old tracks that led all over the yard. Old, rusted strips ran as far as you could see with old, forgotten train cars scattered here and there covered in rust and age like a dead homestead. You swore you could make out a few people shifting between the cars; homeless maybe? There was a long chain length fence that surrounded the stretch of land with ripped and mended privacy tarps and caution signs. You could make out the words ‘condemned by order of the city’, ‘do not enter’, and ‘no trespassing’. Where were you? Looming ahead like a chilling shadow was a building to match the signs. It was large, an old attempt at a train terminal you assumed. The windows were boarded, there was rusted scaffolding leaning heavy against the exterior. The building must have been planned to be a grand travel sight with its arching roof and high clock tower. The three-story building had seen better days. The grounds were unkempt, with vines and weeds taking over. It appeared that the side of the building was covered in more fencing and tarps to hide its decay from the elements. Dead electrical wires lay broken against the structure. Bricks were broken or missing entirely. You could make out layers of graffiti from years of vandalism. And trash littered everywhere. The whole place was dying, taking a final breath before being forgotten by time. The sound of dogs barking echoed across the emptiness of the abandoned yard. You couldn’t hear any cars from the street or any sounds of the city. How far away were you from civilization?

           That feeling that you were about to be left for dead came back.

           “We found this place a long time ago,” Hobi said as he took a look about the place with a fondness you couldn’t understand. “Seokjin said that about seventy years ago, some rich bastard wanted to make a lavish station with shops and a hotel, where trains from all over the country could come. There were some drawings in some old records that showed crown molding, stained glass windows, marble everywhere. It was going to look like a palace when it was done. But there was a bankruptcy, or a fire, or it changed hands too many times, I can’t remember. But it was forgotten. It fell into ruin and the city sectioned it off. They were gonna demolish it a while back after some people got hurt sneaking in for a prank. But it was forgotten during the first big gang war. Now, it’s just an eye sore in this part of town. Not that there’s much around here. It was perfect. After Jin blackmailed his father, he bought it for us.”

           “I don’t think I understand. It looks like it’s about to come down. This can’t be where you live,” you said, hugging the straps of your bag closer to you.

           “Well, it wouldn’t be a good hideout if it looked like a mansion.” Well, he got you there.

           From the other side of the monstrous building, the familiar SUV came into view. Taehyung parked it by an overturned shipping container that must have fallen from one of the transport trains years ago. He hopped out of the car, followed by the decoy Suga. Without the tinted windows in the way, you were able to get a better look at him. He was young, much younger than you anticipated. Without the hood up or the act, he looked nothing like Yoongi up close. And he was taller. He had a boyish shyness to him as he greeted the others. How young did Bangtan start recruiting? Yoongi had been fifteen when he was taken by this Ji they had referenced before.

           “Any problems,” Yoongi asked, falling into his ‘Suga’ tone of voice you had started to differentiate. This was more authoritative, calculating, and colder. Whereas Yoongi was quieter and calmer.

           “Not too much. The Suits were definitely watching us. We were followed for about twenty minutes before I lost them in NCT territory. Baby Kai did his part well didn’t he? Trained him myself, Y/N.” Taehyung threw his arms around the boy, who shrank into himself from the sudden attention.

           “Tae, stop teasing him. Kai, can you take care of the cars for us? I think I saw Taehyun and Beomgyu down in the shipping containers. They can help if you want. Then start doing some rounds. I assume Soobin is still in the lab, so just do the basics.”

           Heuning Kai gave another bow to Suga before taking the keys from Taehyung and moving the SUV out of sight.

           “Can we go in now,” Yoongi grumbled as he ran his good hand through his now red hair. “I’m still hurt if you all forgot and would like to lay down.”

           “Sorry, Ahjussi,” Taehyung sighed, earning a glare from his hyung. “Come on, Y/N. It’s even prettier on the inside.”

           You wanted to question his statement- in fact, you wanted to question a lot of things- but he presented you with his arm and a boxy grin that compelled you to follow the three of them up to the large entrance. Off a small staircase to the concrete platform, there was a large set of double doors, highly embossed brass arching doors from a vintage design plan. There were wooden planks nailed across the frame that towered above you, making it impossible to open the door from the outside. Before you could ask what magic word they had to speak to get the door to open, Hobi balled his fist and knocked hard on one of the boards near the middle of one of the doors. Your eyes widened as a small square of the old wooden board swung open on a hinge. It was a hidden panel that hid an old keep pad and a doorknob. There was no seam, so they had to know exactly where to hit it and you were sure with years of practice, they knew what they were looking for. Hobi’s fast fingers typed in a code that seemed to have too many numbers before you heard a loud click that made you jump. Taehyung couldn’t hide his laugh and you could have sworn you saw Yoongi smile too before you brought your attention back to Hoseok. He gave the knob a quick twist before shutting the panel, and it disappeared from your sight as fast as it appeared.

           And a normal sized door swung open before Hobi, just as magical as the panel had been. You weren’t sure how it could be possible for it to be so well hidden. Hobi and Yoongi stepped in without a thought, disappearing into the inky blackness beyond the door despite the sunny day. Taehyung gave you a reassuring squeeze before trying to take a step towards the door. But your feet stayed rooted, too scared to follow. But he was patient, still giving you an encouraging nod. He stepped partway into the door, slightly disappearing into the darkness, and presented his hand out to you. This is so crazy, you kept saying. But there was nothing behind you for an escape and you had to trust them, right? You took a deep, uneasy breath, adjusted your bag across your shoulders, and took Tae’s hand. And he pulled you into the darkness.

           The door swung closed with a heavier clang than you expected that sent you stumbling into Taehyung’s arms. You felt his whole chest vibrate with a silent laugh. You held on tighter as the biting chill of the room set upon you. It must have been more than twenty degrees colder in the sealed room than outside. There were small streams of light flooding in through broken pieces of ceiling above you. As your eyes adjusted to the hazy shadows, you could make out a small entrance space with arching columns lining either side with broken benches leading to closed off doors that seemed just as sealed as the double doors you had just passed through. The floor was a dusty tiled mosaic that you were sure would have looked beautiful in the light from the glass roof and crystal chandelier had either of those been uncovered or well maintained. The streams of light seemed to all verge on the same thing at the end of the room; a small, caged ticket window that was currently occupied by a masked and hooded figure that made you gasp and hold on to Taehyung more.

           “See hyung,” Hobi’s cheerful voice cut through the suffocating silence, “I told you that old mannequin would be good there if anyone broke in. Gives the place a real haunted vibe. And it scared someone other than me and Jin-hyung.”

           Yoongi ignored him and looked back at you. Through the dim lights, you could have sworn he looked concerned about you. “It’s okay, Y/N. This is just the façade to scare trespassers away. Not that we have many anymore.”

           “Yeah, we don’t come in this way too often. We usually go in through the garages. But we wanted to give you the full show,” Taehyung said, sounding almost giddy, like he was proud of this.

           “Well, I’m officially freaked out. I’m supposed to be trusting you with my safety and I get a horror show. Is this why it’s called the Magic Shop? With appearing doors and haunted house effects?”

           “Not necessarily,” came the response, but from who you couldn’t tell as Taehyung started to move you forward. As you got closer to the caged ticket booth, you could just make out an old plaque hanging on it. You could just make out a few words, ‘Wanted to become your comfort and move your heart, to take away your sadness and pain. Open the door and this place will await, it’s okay to believe’. You weren’t sure what it meant but for some reason, it eased your fear in a way you couldn’t explain. The four of you stood in front of the sealed door to the right of the booth with seemingly no place to go. Hoseok turned to you with a grin.

           “Are you ready to see what’s next?”

           “I don’t think I have any other choice. So, show me.”

           “I’ll show you.” And he reached up and yanked on a dusty wall sconce that was shaped like an old hourglass.

           The door swung open into a huge atrium that must have once been designed as the main lobby for the massive train station. It was so bright from the stained-glass skylight that it took your eyes a moment to adjust before you could take in everything. The whole grand room was bathed in a beautiful array of colors, with dimmed lighting fixtures you could only assume would brighten as the sun went down. The room was warm and comforting. Compared to the outside that was modeled with a vintage flair, the inside was so new and modern. There was a grand stairway in the center that led up to the second floor made from white marble and iron that arched in a fine design. Where outside there were dying plants and rusted facades, inside there were beautiful, green plants and art work hung about that gave it a revitalized feel. Where you could assume based on their descriptions of what it was supposed to be, on the second floor there were three open archways that led into halls that may have been meant for shops and lounges, and down on the first floor there were passageways on either side of the stairs that must have led to the train platforms at one point. You could see a small sitting area just by the stairs, and another set of stairs leading down beyond it. Maybe those lead to the garages Taehyung was talking about. You felt Tae slip out of your grasp and step away, admiring your shocked expression as you took it all in. It was like you had stepped into a fantasy. All fear that you had dulled as you let the curiousness of the place overwhelm you. There had to be some magic at work for this to be possible.

           Before you could form a question, you heard footsteps echoing from one of the halls on the ground floor. From the hall to your left, Namjoon appeared reading a book, thick glasses perched on the end of his nose with his white hair messy and falling across his gaze. He was dressed in a baggy, white t-shirt and black sweatpants, a very relaxed homebody look that didn’t give off the air of the ‘heartless leader of a notorious gang’. There was a steaming cup of coffee in his other hand. Perhaps that way was where the kitchen was? Nevertheless, he didn’t really seem to notice you all had entered. Could they be so sure that no one would find them that this was normal? By the way that Hobi rolled his eyes and Yoongi gazed at the other, this seemed normal to them. They watched as Namjoon continued to make his way across the atrium, muttering the words on the page to himself in a gruff voice, the corners of his lips lifting in an amused smirk that you couldn’t help but find cute. As he got closer, you started to notice little marks that could just be seen from the laxed collar of his shirt; fresh bruises on one side of his neck and a few on his wrist. And on the other side of his throat, it almost seemed like there were faded bite marks. Had he been in a fight? Was that why you hadn’t seen him or why he had forgotten to talk to you? But he seemed fine now. He was all smiles and relaxed. Unless this was, also, normal for them.

           As he was about to walk past the four of you, he seemed to finally sense that there was someone else there. His warm eyes glanced up at you before he returned to his book. “Hey hyungs, Tae. Morning Y/N.” And he continued to walk, as if nothing was odd or unexpected. He made it to the main stairs before his body jolted to a stop and he slowly turned back to face you all with a look of pure confusion and dread. His eyes darted around like he was trying to search his brain for an answer to some many questions. His whole posture shrank in a sheepish way that was almost adorable for the large man. “What day is it?”

           “It’s Wednesday, Namjoon-ah,” Hobi chided. “You know, the day you decided we were gonna bring Y/N here. We talked about this.”

           “Shit,” the leader grumbled as he snapped his book closed and deposited it on the stair banister along with his coffee. “I’m so sorry. Things just got so caught up. I thought it was still the weekend. With all these meetings and Jungkook coming back from his mission. I was still waiting for Jackson to get here and give me the report I asked for. I lost track of time and got the days confused-”

           “You know,” Yoongi interrupted, “for someone who is revered for being a genius, you sure are a dumbass. But I guess that’s one of your lovable qualities.”

           Namjoon’s cheeks turned a cute shade of red as he pulled his glasses off his face. “Nice to have you home, Hyung. Y/N, I’m sorry. I wanted to talk to you about this to make sure you were going to be comfortable with this. I hope the guys eased you into it.”

           “I mean, they tried. It was a bit of a shock. But I promise to get over it. I’ll make sure not to mess up your home. This is definitely not what I expected.”

           “It never is. Especially when you see the outside. Most of the time, we blindfold people until they’re inside. But we decided to trust you more. Since you did save Hyung’s life and all.” He stepped down the stairs and came up closer to the rest of you. You could see the marks better then. The bruises were definitely fresher than the faded bites on his neck. Bruises were something you were quite familiar with. The one on his wrist was more defined, almost resembling a handprint. “Sorry, if I had remembered what day it was, I would have dressed better. I just rolled out of bed.”

           “Oh,” you said, tearing your eyes away from his neck and trying not to blush, “it’s fine. I mean, this is your home after all. I don’t want to intrude on anyone’s habits.”

           “Don’t let Jimin hear you say that,” Taehyung whispered behind you. Even Yoongi snorted out a laugh.

           “Are you okay,” you asked, trying to sound as clinical and professional as you were supposed to in your role as in-home care. “Those marks look pretty bad. Did you get into a fight?”

           Namjoon’s hand flew to cover the deepest bruise on his neck, suddenly looking very nervous. Hobi put his hands on his hips in a very direct way and Taehyung leaned forwards over your shoulder, like they were expecting a very interesting answer from him. Yoongi eyed the younger man with a very intrigued look that dared Joon in a way you couldn’t decipher.

           “This? Oh, um… it’s nothing really. This is a… CrossFit injury. Yeah, CrossFit.”

           “CrossFit,” Yoongi echoed. “Really?”

           Taehyung leaned over to Hobi and whispered, “CrossFit, that’s a new nickname for Jungkookie,” which was hidden over Hoseok’s loud laughter.

           “No, really,” Namjoon defended, cheeks so red, “I had a CrossFit session with Jin last night. It’s a good stress reliever but can leave some… odd marks.”

           “Jin? CrossFit? Oh, this I have to see. Maybe we can catch an encore session? See if we can get some pointers?”

           “You guys, knock it off,” Namjoon hissed, voice raising in a more serious way that only seemed to encourage Hobi and Taehyung more. “Don’t listen to them, Y/N. They love to fool around.”

           “Us fool around? Maybe we should ask Jin and Jungkook?”

           “It’s okay,” you said, not really sure what all the fuss was about, other than the others getting a chance to rile their leader up after his embarrassment. “I think I’ve read something about that. That CrossFit can leave bruises on beginners if they don’t do something right. I’m sure the hospital has seen a few cases here and there.”

           “Seriously,” Joon had a look of disbelief on his face before he seemed to realize what he was saying. “I mean, yeah. I knew that. I read about it. That’s why I knew that.” He cleared his throat. “Anyways, what are you all planning to do? I should probably call Jackson and see why he’s taking so long.”

           “Yeah, nice save.” Yoongi pushed past Namjoon and started up the stairs. “I’m going to lay down for a while. No one bother me unless someone is dead or it’s time for my medicine.”

           “Hyung, let me help you to your room at least. Wouldn’t want you ‘accidentally’ locking yourself in the Genius Lab to work when you shouldn’t,” Hoseok dashed up and took ahold of Yoongi’s good hand. Yoongi growled something you couldn’t make out, but it made Hobi laugh again. You watched as they ascended the stairs and disappeared through one of the halls.

           “Come on, Y/N,” Taehyung said with a bounce in his step. “I promised you a full tour of the house. That’s okay, right Joon-hyung?”

           Joon looked like he was contemplating some factors that you didn’t know. You were about to suggest that Taehyung just show you where you were going to be set up and not bother with anywhere unnecessary, but he smiled.

           “I was going to wait for the report. But I think it’s fine. Just the main parts. I wouldn’t like to know what the guys’ rooms look like right now. Especially this grubby one,” Joon shoved Taehyung, who grabbed his arm with a playful wail.

           “Ow, you bulking behemoth! I’m so delicate! Besides, my room is immaculate. You’re the dirty one.”  

           “It’s called controlled chaos. And at least I know where all my stuff is.” Namjoon went back to collect his coffee. He turned back to you before he left with his arms stretched out in a grand manner.  “Have a good tour, Y/N. Welcome to the Magic Shop.”

[usermischief]

♜Pairing: Briles ♜Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Brett Talbot, Lydia Martin, Jackson Whittemore, Liam Dunbar ♜Tags/Warnings: getting together, cocky Brett, oblivious Stiles (kind of) ♜Words: 3,132

ao3

---

There are multiple reasons Stiles despises returning to Beacon Hills, the supernatural shenanigans are just a small fraction of it. Mostly, it’s the memories too many places here harbor – and then there is his love life, or rather, the walking and talking reminder of the lack thereof.  

“You’re staring.” Lydia taps a finger against her red cup and studies him with a quirked brow and a slight smile. They might be best friends for years now, but he will forever be unsettled by her stares.

Stiles purses his lips. “I’m not.”

“Sweetheart,” Lydia sighs and leans back in her chair, “you’ve been staring at Brett since he walked in, and instead of going over to him, you’ve been sulking next to me.”

“I’m not sulking.”

“Oh, please.” Jackson collapses in his previously vacated chair. “It’s like you’re taking personal offence to Talbot being in the vicinity, which, if you’re asking me-“

“I’m literally not-“

“- is ridiculous,” Jackson continues as if Stiles never even opened his mouth. “You could have anyone here, but you chose Talbot?” Typical, the guy just loves to hear himself talk.

Stiles lets out a breath before emptying his drink. This conversation feels like he should consider going home. He’s got to pick up his grandparents from the airport tomorrow anyway. “I’ll head home now.”

“But it makes sense.” Lydia crosses her legs, eyes roaming over the other partygoers in the living room. “Brett is just one more person Stiles believes to be unavailable. It’s easier to go for someone like that otherwise he might have to let someone in again.” Her smirk is uncomfortable enough that Stiles nearly jumps out of his chair.

Smiling as politely as possible, he shoves his chair under the table. “There are at least fifteen other people you can psychoanalyze, sweetheart.” Stiles glances around the room, briefly studying the more or less wasted teenagers and college students. They’re mostly Liam’s friends and cousins. Nobody is particularly interesting, but Stiles also doesn’t know a lot of them. If he’s entirely honest, he doesn’t know the name of at least half of them.

“Oh, don’t be silly.” Lydia takes a sip of her drink, still smirking at him with that annoyingly cooked brow. “Nobody here is nearly as interesting as you are.” Which also means, fucked. If she didn’t have a point, Stiles would be offended. But, to be honest, nobody here is as interesting as Brett Talbot, who has, as of right now, never left his field of vision. Even though they haven’t spoken since they greeted each other three hours ago, Brett has never been as long around him as he’s been now.

Still, that Brett is even here, feels like a giant joke of the universe but by the looks of it, they managed to put their differences aside.

Much to Stiles’ chagrin.

“I’ll call you tomorrow.” Stiles waves his friends goodbye before pulling his phone out to order an Uber. In any other city, he’d walk home. But he’s not going to risk anything in Beacon Hills.

“Love you,” Lydia calls after him.

Rolling his eyes, Stiles leaves the kitchen to Jackson’s snickering. He dodges Nolan and Gabe, having one of their usual spats in the middle of the hallway, and pulls up his app. There aren’t a lot of Uber drivers in Beacon Hills, much less ones who are willing to drive around this hellhole at 3am in the morning. People may not know about the supernatural world, but they do know that something weird is going on in this town.

He's willing to wait for a while, especially outside and way from—

“Hey, Stilinski.” Brett passes him in the entry and walks through the front door facing him. It really shouldn’t be all that impressive, but all Stiles can think about is that he would’ve broken at least four bones in his body — one on each stair.

Stiles lowers his phone and takes the other boy in like he’s done all night, tight black shirt, tight blue jeans and a crooked grin that makes Stiles feel all kind of things – none of them PG. Fuck, he really needs to get laid again. Fuck. He blinks. “Hey.” Swallowing, he taps his thumb against his phone. The longer he hesitates to call an Uber, the longer he’ll have to stay here and run the risk of either being psychoanalyzed even further or make an utter fool out of himself. The latter seems a lot more likely as long as Brett is grinning at him like a kid in a candy store.

“Going home already?” Brett raises his brows, twirling keys around his index fingers.

Humming in agreement, Stiles raises his phone. “About to call someone to pick me up.” He’s aware he makes it sound like somebody is waiting for him. Lydia would probably call it a defense mechanism.

She might be right.

But Brett doesn’t seem too concerned about that. “I could take you home.” Ever so confident. It shouldn’t be that fucking hot.

Taking a deep breath, Stiles is raising his brows. “You’re drunk.” Or at the very least, Brett has been drinking alcohol in the past couple of hours, and he’s sure Liam spiked most of the drinks so even the werewolves around are able to get wasted.

“I’m not drunk.” Brett actually looks offended for a second. “Satomi would rip me a new one, if I ever got behind the wheel wasted.” Sounds like someone would get along beautifully with his dad.

Stiles bites the inside of his cheek. Call an Uber. Just call the damn Uber, Stilinski. He lets out a breath. “Prove it.”

Idiot.

“And how,” Brett asks as he’s stepping closer with a smirk now firmly set in place, “would you like me to prove that, Officer Stilinski?”

“Special Agent, actually.”

“Damn,” Brett breathes, his soft looking lips parting.

Stiles really wants to kiss him right now.

Fuck.

Fuck.

“Impressive.” Brett twirls his key around his finger again. “But you still gotta tell how to prove to you I’m sober enough to take you home.”

The words are ringing in his ears, so loud that Stiles has to clear his throat to hear his thoughts again. Take you home. Those three fucking words shouldn’t have such an impact on him. It’s a simple statement, no need to freak out. “Close your eyes, touch your nose.” His voice is nowhere near as steady as he would like it to be.

Chuckling, Brett steps away and does as he told.

Of course, he nails it.

Stiles gets the feeling he will end up in Brett’s car tonight. His stomach flutters. He tugs on his shirt, suddenly feeling very restricted in his button-up, and bites his bottom lip. That’s what he wants. It’s what he’s been wanting for a while. Besides, if he ends up going home with Brett, he can prove Lydia wrong.

Because she’s wrong.

He’s not afraid of letting people in. Not at all. He doesn’t go on dates because his job won’t let him. That’s the only reason.

And it’s not like he does have to let Brett in.

Emotionally, at least.

Stiles pushes his phone in the pocket of his jeans and folds his arms across his chest.

Brett blinks his eyes open, smirking. “And?”

“Stand on one leg,” Stiles orders, unable to break eye-contact – even as Brett follows the instruction without any hesitation.

He doesn’t even look annoyed about it. Instead, he keeps smiling as he perfectly balances on his left leg and continues to twirl his key around his index finger. “You’re really strict about this.”

“I spent a lot of time in hospitals and police departments.” It’s the truth, but Stiles wastes time to find a way out, or prepare himself for the inevitable. He’s not sure. If he let his body have its way, he’d jump Brett the moment they’d step into his car. But his mind is a jackass. Life without anxiety could be so fucking peaceful.

Brett nods slowly, and although his grin gives way to contemplation, he still doesn’t look inconvenienced by the request. “Some things stay with you,” he sounds like he knows exactly what Stiles is talking about. Perhaps he does. After all, Stiles isn’t the only one who went through something traumatic as a kid. “That why you’re afraid of emotional connections?” Raising his brows, Brett puts his foot down again and cocks his head.

“I don’t know,” Stiles replies, rolling his eyes. Of course, werewolves are too involved of other people’s business. At this point, he shouldn’t be surprised. “Is it why you refuse to date?” Two can play this game. Plus, Brett’s dating history – or the lack thereof – isn’t exactly a secret around town. As far as Stiles is aware, the guy has never slept with the same person twice. Another reason why Stiles should stay away from him. He’s not good with one-night stands. His heart gets attached too quickly.

“Touché.”

Stiles pushes his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “You always listen in to other people’s conversations?”

“Only the ones who’re playing hard to get.”

Stiles opens his mouth then snaps it shut again. Playing hard to get. He should feel offended by this. He really should. He’s not playing hard to get. He is hard to get. The two relationships he’s had in his life have taken forever until they started. “Walk. A straight. Line.”

Licking his lips, Brett raises both hands. “Okay, Special Agent.” He shuffles a few steps back until he’s halfway down the driveway. His tone is still soft, and he’s grinning again – as if this whole thing is nothing more than a joke to him. Perhaps it is. At this point, they both know he’s sober.

Stiles walks down the last few steps, brows raised expectantly. Brett’s going to ace this as well, there is no doubt about it, and if he does – then what? Stiles will have no more excuse. He’s going to walk with Brett to his car, get into the passenger’s seat, and let the night run its course. Then he can deal with the fallout while driving to the airport tomorrow. All is going to be great.

Rolling his shoulders, Brett starts walking towards him. One foot in front of each other. He isn’t even looking where he’s going. His gaze is fixed on Stiles, never breaking eye contact, not for a single fucking second. His smirk broadens.

The bass of the music drums to the rhythm of his heart. Time seems to bend and stretch around him as Brett makes his way towards him, blue eyes bright and beautiful. He captures his attention, stealing his breath away. Stiles swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. The air shifts as Brett keeps approaching him. His steps, first perfectly lined up, changed into something Stiles can only describe as predatory.

He hasn’t felt like prey in a while.

Stiles opens his mouth, and his breath catches in his throat.

Without warning, Brett wraps an arm around his waist and cups his cheek. He doesn’t allow him to speak or even think. Which is probably a good thing because Stiles would’ve managed to fuck that up royally. It’s his specialty, really.

His eyes flutter close before Brett’s lips even brush against his for the first time. But when they do- fuck. He’s gone. His lips are so soft. So unbelievably and undeniably soft that the gentle touch makes him gasp quietly. In an instant, Brett’s fingers curl into the back of his shirt even though he pulls away again. A second passes. Then another.

Stiles can hear him take a deep breath before he’s finally crashing their mouths together. The sensation makes his head spin. Every part of his body has ached for this. He grabs the back of Brett’s neck, pulling him closer as he parts his lips for a curious tongue. It tastes like coke. There’s not even a hint of any alcohol.

His stomach flutters again, and Stiles breaks the kiss unable to stop the chuckle from falling from his lips. “You planned all along, didn’t you?”

Brett responds by shoving him against the fenced front porch. A low growl fills the air between them, but a grin is tugging at the corners of his mouth. “For months,” he mutters, brushing their noses together in a surprisingly gentle display of affection. “Convincing Liam to invite me to his little birthday party was a hassle. But I played nice-” he pushes both hands almost shamelessly in the pockets of Stiles’ jeans and squeezes his ass “- and it was worth it.”

It was worth it.

Stiles’ breath catches in his throat and resists the urge to press a hand to his chest like a swooning Disney princess. He forces air into his lungs, eyes darting back and forth.

Chuckling, Brett leans closer again. “Cat got your tongue?” he whispers, capturing Stiles’ lips again. He pulls him so close nothing could fit between them.

Stiles curls one hand around Brett’s waist, and he tangles his fingers in the blonde strands, keeping him as close as physically possible without crawling into him. His whole body is burning. This isn’t enough. Not at all.

“Yo, Mason!”

Stiles jolts away from Brett, but the guy’s grip on him merely tightens with a huff. His eyes narrow slightly as Stiles cranes his neck. Heat creeps into his cheeks when he catches Liam’s eye.

Leaning against the door frame, the young werewolf stares back at him with a blank face and his arms crossed. “Tell Lydia, I want my hundred dollars by the end of next week.”

Stiles’ mouth drops open. What the hell?

Brett scoffs.

“Don’t think I did this for you, Talbot.” Liam pushes away from the door frame and shakes his head. “The engagement ring for Hayden is fucking expensive, man.” With a wave of his right hand, he turns away and slams the door shut behind him.

Not before Lydia’s what is audible despite the music, however.

Stiles whips around and pushes Brett off him. “Let’s go,” he urges, heart slamming in his chest as if he’s just finished running a marathon. “Let’s go. Let’s go.” There’s no way in hell he is going to face Lydia now, not when she’s lost a bet while still be able to rub his nose in the fact that she’s been right all along.

Brett barks out a laugh, but he relents and grabs Stiles’ hand as he steps away. “Your place or mine?” Smirking, he intertwines their fingers, nearly turning Stiles’ legs to jelly.

“My dad’s working the night,” Stiles whispers, and he struggles to breathe properly. This is happening. This is really happening. Because he’s not afraid of hooking up with people or letting someone in. Not at all. Lydia has been wrong about that.

Totally.

“I’ll have to pick up my grandparents from LAX tomorrow, though.” Stiles bites the inside of his cheek. Maybe this isn’t the best idea after all. “So, I don’t know. Maybe-“

“Road trip,” Brett grins down at him and pulls them flush together again. “Sounds fun.”

Stiles squints at him. “I’m picking up my grandparents.”

“I’m a family man.”

“Listen, I-“

“No,” Brett cuts him off, even having the audacity to cover his mouth with his hand. “You’re not doing this.” Doing what, exactly? His expression must’ve been pretty clear because Brett continues, sounding as if he’s resigned himself to a fate Stiles has no fucking clue about, “I didn’t spend a whole evening with Liam’s family and friends, so you can tug tail and run just because some idiot broke your heart, or you’re insecure and think you’re fucked up because of the shit that happened to you.”

Stiles opens his mouth, closes it and frowns before he pulls Brett’s hand away. “I don’t know if I should feel flattered or insulted.”

Red creeps into Brett’s cheeks, and Stiles nearly combusts with the need to kiss him again. “I’m… not well versed in the whole romantic confession thing.” Drawing his brows together, Brett rubs the back of his head.

“Really? Thanks for telling me, man,” Stiles drawls, pressing a hand to his chest in mock-surprise. “I never would have noticed.”

Brett grabs his chin and kisses him, “asshole,” he mutters against his mouth.

It really shouldn’t be one of the hottest things that’s ever happened to him – it shouldn’t even be in the top three – but his love life has been a disaster. Stiles would be lying if he said this didn’t make him want to drag Brett in the backseat of his car. He’s easy, sue him. But Liam might kill him, so he behaves. “Don’t let Babcia Agnes hear you call me an asshole. She will throw you out of a moving car, werewolf or not.”

“Noted.” Brett nods, scrunching his brows together adorably. “Babcia?”

“Oh, grandma.”

“Right.” Brett considers him for a moment then, “grandpa?”

Stiles smiles. “Dziadek.”

Another pause. A bit of helplessness creeps in. “Do they speak English?”

“They’re fluent, actually.” Stiles barks out a laugh when Brett lets out a sigh of relief. “I thought you’re a family man?”

Brett grimaces. “I lied.” He opens his mouth again, closes it and pulls his shoulders up.

Stiles doesn’t push it. Instead, he presses a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Dziadek Mieczysław loves everyone. Adress Babcia Agnieszka as Pani Gajos. She’ll instantly tell you to call her Agnes. Then eat a healthy portion. That’ll remind her that I need to eat more, and you’re off the hook.” Although Stiles can tell by the look of mild horror on Brett’s face that he is questioning his life choices, he hasn’t run away yet. “You don’t-“

“Don’t even try.” Brett wraps his arms around his waist, pulling him even closer – something Stiles didn’t know was even possible. “You’re leaving for Quantico in a week. We’ll have to speedrun if we’re compatible.”

“Compatible,” Stiles echoes and raises his brows. Call it a hunch, but something tells him Brett is very new to the dating scene. Smiling, he runs his fingers through the blonde strands. “How about we figure out how compatible we are at my place? And then we’ll go from there?”

Brett hums and tries, but fails, to hide the grin that’s already tugging on the corners of his mouth. Then he grabs Stiles around the waist and all but throws him over his shoulder. “Let’s do that.”

“I hate werewolves,” Stiles mumbles under his breath. “I hate werewolves.” And their constant displays of strength. The guy is lucky Stiles doesn’t mind a bit of manhandling.

Brett squeezes his ass in warning.

Stiles slaps his in return. For some reason, he has the feeling that they’re more than compatible.

[raging-violets]

Re-Introducing Big Time Rush OCs - The Jacksons

Hi @happinessismagicc! We saw your question to @partiallypearl here and wanted to answer your question about giving more info about Rhuben. At the same time we realized that some more people have been liking our BTR/OC stuff that may not know who the Jacksons are so we decided to make a post to reintroduce them! Sorry for the long wall of text ahead! Tagging @ceruleanmusings and @witchofinterest as well!

First thing to know is that we've written the Jacksons as multi-fandom OCs since 2004ish or so (we believe) but they're probably them most well known in the Suite Life fandom but even more so in the Big Time Rush fandom where we've written them since 2010. I think exactly a few weeks after seeing BTAudition.

The Jacksons are an Australian-Japanese-American family consisting of Riley, Rhuben, Patrick, Noah, and Sydney Jackson. They are a band called the DarkElements in their home of Australia who have had major success but are trying to break further into the American market. They are contracted/employed by Rocque Records to work with Big Time Rush and quickly get sucked into Big Time Rush's hijinks and craziness while changing their band name to Jax. Through shortly after they meet the boys, the boys find out they're being abused by their manager/foster father Robert, as their parents died when they were young.

Riley Rose Jackson: 16 (S1), 17 (S2), 18 (S3), 18/19 (S4)

Riley is the oldest of the Jacksons and it shows in her leadership of their family dynamic and of their band, despite only being a few minutes older than her twin, Rhuben. This is evident in the way she tends to play parental role to her siblings. She's outgoing, outspoken, stubborn, witty, charming, courageous, flirty, and, honestly, a bit of a jerk with a temper to match; the more positive side of her qualities being seen once Robert is arrested for abuse and she can be her true self. She protects her heart as much as she protects her family; fiercely. Riley is the most adventurous and mischievous of her family, always looking for a good time, which tends to get her in trouble. She reads people really well and can see right through people and their motivations quickly and will brutally call people out to their face without a thought and without a blink. But as much as people see her flaws, they see she just wants to be liked and is an amazing friend. She plays lead and rhythm guitar (sometimes bass) for Jax, sings lead and backing vocals, plays the piano, writes songs, and is the stylist for her band as well as Big Time Rush. She is close to all of her siblings but especially Rhuben and Patrick.

Ship: Kendall. Right when they first meet each other there's a spark between them that everyone sees and no one can deny. They bond over enjoying guitar and sports (him hockey, her baseball and surfing) but she keeps him at an arm's length from her out of fear. He is one of the main drivers of the guys and others figuring out hers and her siblings' abuse and want to save them...because his father turns out to be Robert's lawyer (of which he harbors a lot of guilt over). He at least insists that if they're going to be co-workers they should be friends to make things easier and she cautiously does. It's clear to everyone around them that they like each other, but with her distance, Kendall sets his eyes on Jo. It's not until season 2 where their friendship grows into them being best friends that Riley consciously realizes she goes to the Palm Woods and Rocque Records more without her siblings to hang out with Kendall that she has a crush on him...and feels guilty about it. Primarily in that he's with Jo, who is her best girl friend, but also because she knows he likes her, too. So she sticks to being his best friend...and gives him multiple mixed signals in the process. After Kendall breaks up with Jo in season 2, they grow even closer to each other through season 3 and almost get together, but Lucy arrives to where Kendall pivots to her after thinking that Riley doesn't like him/rejected him. By this point all of their friends and family continuously talk to the two of them that they like each other but they both insist they're only friends and the other one isn't interested (with Kendall dating Jo and going after Lucy while Riley continues to give him mixed signals). Through their friendship they continuously toe the line between being very close best friends and flirting with each other until Riley gets tired of him jerking her around and directly confronts him over his feelings for her, to which they admit their feelings for each other in a yelling fight during BTSurprise/BTDecision. However, they don't officially get together until BTCamping where Riley has a manic fit that Kendall saves her from. Season 3 and beyond, they have a great relationship as they take their friendship within it seriously and have a lot of respect for each other and are willing to help each other through their father issues and hard pasts. But when they fight, they can fight. They always makeup and forgive each other well, but they can have some really bad fights. As friends, she and Kendall hang out and talk a lot; they are always excited to tell each other stories about tour or their day, and she has a habit of giving Kendall advice with his problems and have him open up to her without him realizing it's happening. Key Notes: Loves to surf and spends a lot of time at the beach, has 1000+ nicknames for Kendall, has bipolar disorder, signified by the color red

Rhuben Skye Jackson: 16 (S1), 17 (S2), 18 (S3), 18/19 (S4)

Rhuben is the dreamer of the family and while she and Riley have the same sense of energy, she's seen as more introverted than her twin. This due in part to her ambition at being the best at anything she does that she'll disregard others' feelings - aka, she can really experience tunnel vision. Stepping in as a mother/father figure and taking care of/helping to raise her brothers is always a top priority for her. This also means she's known to keep her anger, frustration, and hurt feelings to herself before it reaches it's peak and she let's it all out in a single explosion described as a "verbal demolish" - carefully and purposefully using her words to "make people hurt" in retaliation for those that hurt her; compared to Riley's quick and blunt honesty in the moment. Perfection is something she strives for. She is ambitious, confident, spunky, coy, playful, and a risk taker but is also impatient, self-centered, and petty. Music and dancing are her life so it's not hard to find her working on a drumbeat or working out some choreography. She is the peacemaker of her family and is always up for a good time. She plays the drums for Jax, plays piano, writes songs, sings lead and backing vocals, has an interest in music production, and is the choreographer for Jax and Big Time Rush. Closest with Riley and Noah.

Ship: Logan. Riley, Rhuben, and Logan first meet as kids when the Jacksons briefly lived in Texas before they moved to California and Logan moved to Minnesota. Logan had always insisted that he knew DarkElements/Jax the band over the years, but no one believed him. They reunite when the Jacksons start working with Big Time Rush and Rhuben helps with choreography – specifically with Kendall and Logan who are not as confident with their dancing. Logan wants to jump back into their friendship but finds Rhuben more serious and standoff-ish then she was when they were kids. They both have a drive to succeed, ambition to reach heights with their careers, and a realistic look on life. With his dream of being a doctor, he’s one of the first to notice the Jacksons’ excuses for their injuries and how they acted around Robert. The two slowly rebuild their friendship over Logan’s first two years in LA. Through season 2, they are each other's sounding boards for their frustrations, insecurities, and needing the hard truth told to each other - making sure not to throw it in each other's face even in arguments. It's Logan's overall growing confidence through the swagger app, and how close they had gotten that helps Rhuben realize her crush on him. BTCrush/BTRocker/BTReturns has him start to realize he was building feelings for Rhuben as his brief interest in Lucy, crush on Peggy, and Camille method acting for “Spy High” made him start to notice how similar it is to Rhuben’s true nature after Robert is out of her life (Peggy), her over all look/style (Lucy), and her coy and alluring personality and love of life (Camille as Mila). Talking around admitting their feelings for each other, Rhuben tells Logan that nothing will happen between them if he continues to be indecisive about Camille and running to her with his problems. She is crushed upon seeing his obsessiom with Camille's tackle in BTReturns, and guilty for not being truthful to Camille as she is one of her best friends but still supports their on/off relationship. Logan looks towards understanding where his commitment issues come from and decides to take a step back from relationships until he’s figured it out. BTCameo has Rhuben finally breaking down upon seeing how Coco.0's Dara’s stepmother forced her to restrict her food (and slapping Kendall) and reveals to everyone her eating disorder (except James who she told in BTPromKings) and Logan supports and assists with her recovery; though it is rocky as he first is very heavy handed with "the literature" before realizing how she wants to be supported. His unwavering support solidifies her feelings for him as all in all Rhuben just wants to be loved in spite of people knowing the good, the bad, and the very ugly parts of her life and her past. They start dating in BTRides when they realize they’re trying to hold onto how their relationship was as children and not looking at it as the teenagers they are due to the safety they felt in childhood, leading them to take the leap into uncharted territory of a true serious relationship. Key Notes: Has an eating disorder, dancing is her life, signified by the color purple.

Patrick Bailey Jackson: 14 (S1), 15 (S2), 16 (S3), 16/17 (S4)

He's the jokester of the family and is the older and more outgoing twin to Noah. He likes to make people laugh with a silly joke or a tinge of stupidity but in general likes to make people smile. He'll be the one to cue up Backstreet Boys' "I Want It That Way" in karaoke but sing Weird Al's "Ebay" instead. But don't let his comedy fool you, he's actually very intelligent and uses his sense of humor to hide how angry he is inside at how his life turned out as well as the pressure Robert puts on them for the band. He enjoys surfing and working out and wants nothing more than to have a good time and to party. He doesn't always think before he speaks, which can either be hilarious or cringy. Patrick plays the bass for Jax (and sometimes guitar), sings lead and backing vocals, plays piano, writes songs, and enjoys coming up with concepts for music videos. He's closest with Noah and Riley.

Ship: Katie. He likes her as soon as he meets her...and has no idea what to do with it. He likes girls and has kissed them many times before, but has never had a girlfriend. So he has no idea what he's doing with Katie and they try to figure out all of their firsts together. But that doesn't mean he doesn't know how to flirt, he flirts with her a lot (often calling her 'sweetheart') but then seems not to know what to do after. They often shyly state how much they like each other...but get stymied on moving forward until they finally kiss and start dating. Kendall isn't happy about it and tends to try to intimidate Patrick but Riley quickly calls him out on it. *(Key thing to note is that in our fics we've aged up Katie from 10 to 13). Key Notes: Has IED, loves to surf, can't read music, signified by the color yellow. Can harmonize the fastest. Is the screamo singer of the band. Can imitate most voices. Wears glasses (mostly contacts. Noah does not.)

Noah Liam Jackson: 14 (S1), 15 (S2), 16 (S3), 16/17 (S4)

Noah is the quietest and most mature of the Jacksons, but that doesn't mean he won't quickly jump in and join his siblings or the guys in their hi-jinks and adventures. He doesn't need a lot of attention but is quick to point out when he's being overshadowed or overlooked, often becoming very strong in himself when needing to speak up for himself, which can shock others who mistake him for being a pushover. He's very sarcastic and deadpan, but is the one most people to go when they need someone to listen. He plays the drums for Jax, sings lead and backing vocals, writes songs, plays piano, and often is the one to come up with the melodies for their songs. Is the "product tester" of the band: He can re-work and edit lyrics, gives a different POV for choices on music video edits and style choices, etc. He is closest to Rhuben and Patrick.

Ship: Lizzie Zevon (OC). The younger sister to superstar Dak Zevon, Lizzie is the life of the party. She was one of the first people in LA around Noah's age that he and his siblings befriended and semi-worked with. She's very talkative, fun loving and just as easy going as she portrays herself to be on social media. Lizzie is the type of girl that pulls anyone and everyone she wants into her world and make them feel like the only person there. And her project was getting Noah to just simply talk to her – mistaking his being quiet for being shy. Noah has liked her from the beginning, and often would ask her to be his date to contracted social outings like award shoes and appearances when it called for a date, but didn’t exactly know how to cross the bridge into dating someone, (as he had girls usually take the lead in that area and he wasn’t using his sisters’ relationships as a roadmap, no offense to them) until Lizzie got impatient and kissed him. A conversation was never really had about their feelings for each other or asking each other out on a date, they were just together after that point. A true Noah move; with as little fanfare, attention, and drama as possible. She does have moments of wondering if he even likes her since he doesn't say it much, but he points out his actions prove he does. Key Notes: Patrick needs him more than he needs Patrick, has selective mutism, compared to his quiet nature he sings beautifully and has a very loud laugh, signified by the colors silver/gray/white. Enjoys solitude as much as being active and doing something fun. Doesn’t need/want attention all that much, which is why he doesn’t have a problem being “in the back of the band” but also doesn’t want to be overlooked. Due to being quiet, it means he’s taking in everything around him: he pays attention to people, their feelings, a great listener and the best person to go to for advice – some advice sounding wiser than his years.

Sydney Adrian Jackson: 10 (S1), 11 (S2), 12 (S3), 12/13 (S4)

Being the youngest of his siblings, Sydney tends to be spoiled and is fairly smug about it. He knows he's the favorite of the family. He's also smug about how much smarter he is than everyone around him. As he grows older he has a sense of arrogance to him but it is offset by his sheer friendliness. He knows he can get away with it until he's knocked down a peg. Nevertheless, he is incredibly sweet and likes to spend time with the people he likes. His genius level intellect (he's part of MENSA) makes it that he doesn't have friends his age and he's lonely due to that. So when he meets the boys he latches onto their hi-jinks very fast, often figuring out how their plans will go wrong long before it happens, but going along for the ride anyway. He plays piano/synthesizer, violin, and rhythmic guitar for Jax, sings backing vocals, writes songs, and tends to lean more towards the business side of their band, often projecting what ventures and promotions and sponsors will be better for them. He is close with all of his siblings but is also close with Kendall.

Ship: None Key Notes: Has panic attacks and separation anxiety, may be somewhere on the spectrum but we haven't decided yet, signified by the color blue. Is the only member of his family with dimples in his cheeks.

[justrandomfanfictionskh]

Technically it's the 2nd Battle of New York

(Just a fun one shot, for all the Percy Jackson fans out there. This is going to be the first story, for a series I'm doing called the Percy Jackson Multiverse! Just a bunch of random crossover stories that I'm doing in prep for the show. Let me know if you want a specific crossover and I'll try to get around to it!)

Percy laughed as one of his subordinates, Mike slipped on the sea spray and landed hard on his but in the middle of the deck. Mike was their newest crew member, just barely a full fledged seaman, and so naturally every little mistake he made was met with never ending teasing and hazing from every other crew member on their little Recuse and Response Boat. But there was nothing cruel about it, just some light hearted joshing for a light heart day. As proven when the Chief Petty Officer stepped forward to help the young man up, with an amused smile and a kind word before ordering everyone back to the stations.

Following the order with a smile Percy turned back to checking the rescue lines, and watching the view. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of this. The glistening green waves of the bay. The sea salt breeze in his face. The music of a lively harbor. And the grandeur of the New York City skyline as seen from the sea. It was beautiful, and peaceful, and all Percy could have ever hoped for. Especially on days like today, when the weather was fair and there were no missions planned. They simply patrolled the harbor, laughing in the sun, and appreciating the view, until it was time to head in. 

It was the perfect job for him! He got to spend all day on the water, where no monsters would dare touch him. He got to help people, and no one cared that he had barely finished high school. He was stationed in New York, which meant he was easily accessible for any of his friends that might need help. And, aside from the odd night shift, he got to go home to Annabeth every evening and wake up with her every morning. 

Yep, life was pretty good for First Petty Officer Percy Jackson. And since he had finally extracted a promise from the gods to leave him alone! The Hero of Olympus was happy to say that he was blissfully retired from questing, and ready to live the rest of his life in peace. So naturally everything just had to go horribly wrong, because of course the fates hated him. And it happened as he was talking to his Chief as they looked over the harbor.  

“Have you ever thought of rescue diving Jackson?” the Chief said simply. “It’s hard and dangerous for sure. But it’s better pay and more benefits. Plus you get to travel around, see the world. Seems like something you might enjoy. I mean, you’re like a shark in the water.”

Percy shrugged. He’d considered it of course, but that’s not what he wanted right now and he said as much. “All I want, Chief, is a steady paycheck and to go home to my girl at the end of the day. I’ve seen as much of the world as I care to, right now I just want some peace.”

The Chief barked a laugh, “Peace? Boy, you're Twenty years old! You can’t even drink yet! You’re too young to be thinking of ‘peace!’ Besides, this job isn’t exactly low stress, so maybe you should consider reexamining your priorities.”

Percy chuckled and shook his head. “I’m happy right where I am,” he said simply as he leaned against the ship's railing, the gentle sea spray brushing his face like a gift from his father. “If that changes, we can talk. But I’ve got a wedding to plan, and a fiancé keep happy. And right now, that means staying in the city for as long as possible without getting into any more trouble.”

The Chief chuckled and nodded, turning back to the bridge. “Fair enough, just remember, that at the rate you're being promoted you're likely to find yourself pigeon holed into a desk job before long. Unless you're trying to make Admiral before you're fifty?”

Percy smiled slyly and said, “Actually I was thinking forty, but who cares, I’m not in a rush.”

They both laughed, and would have continued their good natured discussion of Percy’s future, if at that moment, the world hadn’t changed forever. One minute the sky was as clear as it could be, and then a noise like thunder echoed over the city and across the bay. Every eye was drawn to the skyline, and the swirling patch of space that hung ominously above Stark Tower. 

“Holy shit,” the Chief muttered in awe, and Percy spun to look at him. He and every other member of the crew were staring up at the portal in awe and terror. And Percy cursed in Greek. The mist wasn’t hiding this. Every single mortal that Percy could see was staring up at the sky in wonder, obviously seeing the portal (because what else could it be) for exactly what it was. 

“So,” he thought bitterly, “ Either the gods have messed up big time, or this isn’t them.” But Percy wasn’t putting his money on this being anything, but a major godly screw up. That was until the giant space mosasaurus flew out of the portal with a reverberating cry, and began to descend on the city. From where their boat was idling, Percy could barely see the thousands of specks flying around the giant space, dinno shark like flies, and then he cursed again. He had just lost his bet with himself, because while Percy Jackson was not always the brightest tool in the shed, he knew his world. And this monster and its swarming army, was not of his world. 

“Sir,” Percy said firmly, jolting his Chief out of his reverie. “We need to move, I believe we are being invaded.” 

The Chief Petty Officer snapped to attention, nodded once to Percy in thanks and then immediately began barking orders. There was a battle in the city and thousands of civilian boats in the harbor and bay, and they would need to be escorted to safety or rescued from the debris. Their peaceful day had just become a lot more stressful, but they were the Coast Guard. This was their job, and they would do it. 

Percy sent a quick prayer to Poseidon and Hestia, two of the few gods who actually liked him, that they would keep his family safe. He then sent a prayer to Athena, Nike, and (after grimacing) Ares to give humanity a chance at victory. He hesitated for only a second as he saw the bright red speck that he assumed was Iron Man, fly up to challenge the leviathan. But he shook his head and focused on his crew.

It looked like most of this battle would take place in the air, where he was less than useless. And unless the Fates themselves showed up and demanded that he take part, he was going to stay where he was most useful, and help as many people as he could. It grated against every protective and battle instinct he had. He wanted to run to his family, to Annabeth. He needed to know they were ok, and safe. He wanted to find the idiot responsible for this and punch them in the teeth. They had ruined a perfectly good day! And all of his training was demanding that he jump into the water, and take charge of the battle. 

But he did none of those things. He had a job to do and he would do it. He had to trust Annabeth to protect his family. He had to trust Iron Man and whatever forces he had in stock, to deal with the aliens. He had to trust, and if he saw a chance to kick some alien butt along the way? Well, none of his crew would blame him. 

Annabeth stuffed as many people into the boiler room beneath their apartment building as she could. She met Sally Jackson’s eyes as her husband Paul hugged little Estelle tightly to his chest. A soft determination came over Sally’s face and she nodded to Annabeth, silently telling her to go. The greatest mother the world had ever known, turned to the frightened, noisy, crowd and began to take command. Annabeth didn’t wait for Sally to get things under control. Instead she ran up the stairs, taking three at a time before returning to her and Percy’s apartment, and slamming open the door. She didn’t even hesitate as she ran for where her Drakon Bone Sword was on display in their living room before throwing on the spare breastplate, grieves, and helmet they kept in the closet. 

She only briefly paused to consider taking her Yankees cap before caving, and stuffing it into her back pocket. She then threw herself down the fire escape, and rolled out into the chaos that was now midtown Manhattan. However, the panicked masses parted for her easily. They understood the significance of a person running the wrong way, and dared not to hinder a person going toward the danger. The only road block she might have faced were the panicked policemen struggling to put up a barrier in a desperate attempt to contain the chaos. But they were all too focused on the literal aliens, falling from the sky to notice the young college woman with a deadly weapon running past them and into the battle. 

The aliens, however, had no such blindness. The beasts saw Annabeth easily, and charged her. The daughter of Athena gritted her teeth, and lifted her sword. She silently cursed herself, for running blindly into a fight without a plan and prepared to fight for her life. She didn’t even know if these creatures would be affected by Drakon bone! Or if they had special powers, or weaknesses. What if they were like hydras and could regenerate? It was such a Percy thing to do, that her scowl turned into a grin, and she bared her teeth like a wolf about to rip out their throats. She began to dance with her sword, something she had been training to do since she was seven. 

Her grin turned manic, as the alien monsters attacked brainlessly and fell easily. The sword she had claimed from the depths of Tartarus cut through them like butter, and their armor was like match wood beneath her strikes. She quickly evaluated them as she fought, and realized a few things immediately. First of all, these “soldiers” only had the most basic level of combat, and relied completely on their superior weapons and numbers. Second, they were clearly some type of hive mind, since their insensible growls and screams had no semblance of language, but they were far too coordinated to not be communicating. And third, there were too many of them. 

They fell before Annabeth like wheat before the scythe, but like the waves of the ocean, there was always another one to take its place. So while these creatures were nothing compared to the monsters she was used to fighting on a daily basis, she knew that eventually they would wear down her stamina and kill her without a second thought. And that was perhaps the most concerning fact. These creatures showed no fear. She cut them down without thought or hesitation by the dozens, without taking a single scratch, but none of them even hesitated to challenge her again, and again, and again. Even monsters had more sense than that, which only confirmed her brainless hive mind theory. 

She needed a plan, but for it to work she needed to know who their allies were, where Percy was, and what government organizations were mobilizing to help clean up this mess. That morning, Percy said that he would be patrolling the bay until five, and she assumed that his crew would need him to help rescue civilians and get them off the island. So she decided to cut her way to the Empire State Building, and see what godly intervention she could scrounge up. And they couldn’t say no. They owed her.

Annabeth pulled up short as a great roar echoed through the streets causing some of the windows to shiver. That was not the sound of the alien’s living ships, so it was either a magic beast, or a third party. Annabeth picked up her pace, until she saw the great green form of the Hulk jumping from building to building and smashing every alien he could get his hands on. “ Well,” she thought grimly, “ That explains the roar. ” 

Annabeth skidded to a halt and cursed right as she got to the overpass in front of Grand Central Station. A squad of fifty aliens, ten of which were on those strange speeders, had seen her and begun to charge. Needing the high ground, Annabeth scrambled up the bridge support faster than she’d ever climbed the wall at camp. Of course the fact that the bridge wasn’t shaking, or spewing lava definitely helped her speed. She vaulted the barrier, and fell into a battle stance as the aliens tried to follow her. 

The good news, the squad of fifty was slowed and dispersed by the climb, and she dispatched the speeders, as easily as evil harpies. The bad news was that she was now on an exposed plan, and she could already see two more squads in the distance moving in to flank her. Annabeth scowled, and looked to where she could just barely see the Empire State building peeking out from behind the towers surrounding her. Then her mouth dropped open in shock, because there standing on the spire, was a figure in armor. It was barely distinguishable, but whoever it was, was clearly directing lightning at the portal, stemming the flow of the invaders and giving the forces on the ground a chance to regroup, and organize. 

“Zeus?” She whispered in awe. Was the overstuffed drama queen actually helping? And was he actually being smart about it?!

“Thor actually. Watch your back!” A voice called behind her and Annabeth spun to see a woman with fiery red hair, and dressed in black leather, shoot an alien trying to sneak up on her. Annabeth cursed herself (she was doing a lot of that today it would seem) and put her back to the mortal warrior and cleared a space for them between two overturned cars, that they could use as cover. 

This gave them a brief respite, where the two women turned to look at each other with an accepting suspicion. They didn’t know each other. They didn’t trust each other. They clearly had a lot of questions for the other. But at that moment, they were on the same disadvantaged side, and therefore needed each other. So Annabeth lowered her sword and held out her hand, “Annabeth Chase.”

“Natasha Romanof,” the woman said without emotion, but still taking Annabeth’s hand. She then gave Annabeth’s armor and weapon a quick once over and then silently groaned, “Don’t tell me the Greek gods are real too.”

“What do you mean?” Annabeth said slowly, careful not to confirm nor deny anything the woman said. 

“Well,” Natasha said with a barely perceivable smirk, as she pointed to the figure summoning the lightning, “That is Thor, a Norse god straight out of mythology. So I assume all of the other ancient myths are based on some facts.”

Annabeth allowed her smirk to be easily readable, she had a feeling she was going to like this mortal. But all she said was, “A logical deduction, but hardly proof.”

“You’re trained, with abnormal strength and reflexes based on how easily you cut through the Chitauri. Also that,” Natasha pointed at Annabeth's sword, “Is hardly a common weapon, and you're dressed in ancient armor. In other words, you’re enhanced, with a connection to the ancient world, and assumed Thor was Zeus. So, yes or no, are the Greek gods real, and what is your connection to them?”

Annabeth grinned from ear to ear. She really liked this mortal. She had to be one of her mother’s favorites. Plus she could see through the mist. “Yes,” Annabeth said coolly, “They're real, and they live in the Empire State Building.”

There was only a brief widening of Natasha’s eyes at this revelation and a glance at the famous monument, but otherwise she remained stoic and sharp as Annabeth continued saying, “I am the daughter of Athena, Greek goddess of wisdom and battle strategy. No, I’m not a god, my dad is a human mortal. Yes, technically Athena is a sworn virgin. No, I don’t want to explain how I was born. No, I don’t know if they're going to help us. Yes, I do have a plan to end this. Are you willing to listen to me?”

Natasha stood silently for a moment, before she spun to kill a chitauri trying to sneak up on them. She then gave Annabeth another searching look. She seemed satisfied with what she saw, because she nodded, raising her weapons to face down the coming aliens. “Let’s hear it.”

“First,” Annabeth said once more, putting her back to the woman. “Give me the rundown. Who are we fighting? Who are our allies? Do we have support?” 

“These buggers,” Natasha yelled over the noise of her guns. “Are the Chitauri. They’re being led by Loki, the Norse god of mischief. He wants to rule the world. On our side we have Captain America, Thor, Hulk, and Iron Man, you know them?”

Annabeth choked as she sliced off a chitauri’s arm. “Captain America is alive!” She then stabbed the alien in the heart. Natasha nodded to her in confirmation, but her eyes brightened in approval at Annabeth’s viciousness. “Ok,” Annabeth said, shaking her head. It wasn’t the weirdest thing that had happened in her life. “I know the rest, who else?”

“Clint Barton—”

“I know him.” 

This time Natasha froze as an alien corpse collapsed in front of her. “How?” Her voice was cold and demanding. 

Annabeth noted the woman’s change, and only hesitated to consider Clint’s situation before asking, “Are you in communication?” 

Natasha handed Annabeth an earpiece, and showed her how to turn it on. Immediately, unseen strangers were shouting in her ear. But Annabeth ignored them all in favor of the one she hadn’t heard since she was ten years old, begging him not to leave her. “Clint?” she said softly. 

Immediately the voices stopped. A voice full of a soldier’s command was the first to speak, “Who are you? How are you on this channel?”

“Clint Barton, Mr. Brunner sends his regards,” Annabeth said, ignoring the questions.

“Holy Hades,” Clint whispered, “Annie? Is that you?”

“Yeah,” Annabeth said slowly, “I’m here with Natasha Romanof. We’re holding the overpass by Grand Central Station. She knows my truth, and she accepts it.”

“Oh,” Clint said, “Um ok…well…this…isn’t ideal. Do we have to do this now?” 

“I have a plan to end this, and I need your team to trust me.” 

“I’m sorry,” a voice filled with disbelief and condensation filled the earpiece. “Will someone please explain who this child is? And what Legolas is keeping from us? I thought we were past this, people!”

“Can it Tony,” Clint growled over the comms, and Annabeth heard an explosion in the background. “The only person I trust more than Annabeth is Nat. She has been through more wars than Cap, and she was a leader in all of them. If she has a plan, we shut up and do what she says. And don’t even pretend that you don’t have at least thirty skeletons in the closet that we don’t know about. Annie, I’ll tell Nat everything after this. Just tell us what to do. Also, please tell me your boyfriend’s here! We could use him.”

Annabeth blushed at the complements, but shook the embarrassment away before saying, “He’s with the Coast Guard. Unless one of you goes to get him, he’s going to focus on getting civilians away from the battle. But we don’t need him for this to work. Thor, how conniving is Loki?”

“He is one of the most cunning minds in all of Asgard,” a deep, accented, and formal voice declared. “But please, a moment, Sir. Barton has referred to you as Annabeth. You are not the famous Annabeth Chase by chance?”

Annabeth couldn’t help the swell of pride at being recognized by a deity from a completely different pantheon, and said. “The one and only.”

“I suggest that everyone listens to the Warrior Chase,” Thor declared immediately, “Her skill, and wisdom are legendary across the nine realms and further. And if it is true that the Perseus Jackson is nearby—”

“Wait!” Iron Man interrupted again, “Why is she Warrior Chase, while we’re all sirs and ladies? Who is she? And how old are you? You sound young. That’s not just me right? She sounds young?”

“Focus Tony,” Cap said again. And as he spoke, he joined her and Natasha on the overpass. He narrowed his eyes at her, and at first Annabeth was afraid that he would agree with Tony about insisting on her age. But she didn’t give him time to.

“Listen,” she said and she used the chitauri she was fighting as a shield against the blast of the others, before kicking him into his companions, knocking them down before she decapitated all three of them in one fell swoop. “The chitauri are a hive mind.”

“How do you know that?” Tony demanded. 

“Not now Tony,” Natasha, Clint, and Thor all shouted at once. 

“We need to separate them from their source,” Annabeth continued without missing a beat. “Loki’s smart, so he’ll keep the source as far from the main battle and his enemies as possible.”

“So, on the other side of the portal,” Clint groaned. 

“We’ll never get to that,” Natasha agreed as she took a chitauri’s staff and began to use it against him. 

“But Loki’s on this side of the portal, correct?”

“He just hoped on a speeder,” Clint said, the hatred in his voice as plain as clear as his hatred for the gods. “My arrow just blew him up, but I don’t think it did much.”

Annabeth nodded, more pieces of the puzzle fitting into place, as she bisected another alien. “Ok, whatever is keeping that portal open needs to be shut down as quickly as possible. The natural distance could cut off the connection, but if not then it will be easier to contain and beat the army. Then we need to capture Loki, and either kill or contain him.”

“I would rather you didn’t kill my brother.”

“Natasha, Clint,” Annabeth said ignoring the god, as was her want, “One of you needs to get to the gate's power source.” She could hear Iron Man begin to protest but she cut him off saying, “Mr. Stark, you, Captain Rogers, and whoever doesn’t go to that monstrosity of a building—”

“Hey!”

“Needs to continue supporting the police and National Guard in defending the city. Thor, you or Hulk need to deal with Loki. I don’t care if you do or don’t kill him. Just make sure he is no longer commanding his forces. I’m going to go see if I can’t call in some extra firepower to speed things along.”  

“It’s a good plan, Tony,” Rogers said as he watched Annabeth leap off an exploding car, grab a speeder by the handle, and twist it is that it and its passengers went careening into the side of a building, before dropping down onto an alien twice her size, and plunging her sword into its chest. 

“I just saw Loki, I’ll try to drive him back to the Tower, before heading to the tesseract. Steve, give me a boost.” Natasha said, before using the Captain’s shield as a springboard to take control of a speeder going overhead. Ok, Annabeth really liked this mortal. 

“I would follow you to Loki,” Thor said with a grunt, “But I am currently facing three leviathans over the harbor.” 

“HULK SMASH!” A voice bellowed over the comms, and that answered Annabeth’s question on whether or not the creature could understand human speech. She smiled, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Captain America flinch at the deadly glee in her eyes. 

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” she said. 

When the leviathan crashed into the harbor and sent a giant wave crashing over, Percy’s boat, Percy willed the water to not harm the civilians, but allowed the current to sweep him away and into the sea. He felt slightly guilty leaving his crew to think he was drowning in battle, but that was offset by the looks of astonishment that they would surely have when he showed up perfectly fine at the base camp in Brooklyn that the first responders were setting up. Besides he had been with the Chief since he was an Apprentice, he knew that Percy was a “strong swimmer” and would be fine. 

He had stayed with his crew for as long as he could, and they had almost completely cleared the water of all of the civilian and commercial craft. Now it was a matter of getting the civilians from one shore to the other. A process that he could expedite by talking to the River Lords to convince them to help the boats. With that done, he began searching for overboard civilians and silently shifting the currents to be in their favor. And if anyone began to drown, then he got a little more hands on with their rescue. By bringing them to an abandoned dock, not too far from the base camp, and pulling the water out of their lungs. 

The fish helped as much as they could, but they were terrified of the unfamiliar monsters sinking beneath the waves. However, with the help they were able to give, and the blessing of the sea constantly rejuvenating him and giving him strength, more people were saved than lost. After delivering a boy who didn’t know how to swim to the Brooklyn shore, Percy paused and looked over at the battle. The portal was still open, and the aliens were still coming in droves. However, the National Guard, and Army had just arrived. Skiffs full of marines and seals, were pulling into the bay as fast as their fastest boats could go. 

But Percy had an eye for war. He had led armies in two great wars before the age of eighteen. And he could tell that it was going poorly. Even with the reinforcements, the island was about to be overrun. Percy closed his eyes and prayed to every god and pantheon he knew for the people he loved and their safety. Yes, even to Hera and Zeus. He didn’t care. He just needed them safe. 

A great roar echoed over the water, as two leviathans turned from between the towers and began to fly over the river straight towards the base camp. People began to scream, and Percy cursed. Enough was enough. He jumped into the river, and torpedoed to the bottom and summoned the Spirit of the East River.

“Help me!” he demanded. And where once the Spirit might have grumbled and complained, now he only bowed to the son of Poseidon, who had walked through Hell, and prepared his currents to whisk the mortals to safety, even as Percy began to summon his strength. And although the land was screaming with the chaos of the battle. Under the waves all was silent, as the River god, and the demigod prepared their power. 

Then Percy screamed, and thrust his hands up and above his head. Mimicked by the spirit, the East River surged up and a wall of water formed between the two banks. The water grabbed the leviathans by their jaws and pulled them down and into the bay. The great waves formed by the creatures crashing into the rivers and being crushed by the angry guardians of the city, would have, should have, flooded the banks, destroyed the rescue boats, and drowned every individual in the water. But it didn’t. Every nymph and spirit of the waves and the sea, heard the call of their Prince, and their Lord, and surged to protect the innocents in their waters. When the river returned to normal, the piers of Brooklyn were as silent as the depths as the people stared in wonder at the absolute display of power that protected them. Still it didn’t take long for the Captains of the boats to rally and continue their rescue operations. 

Percy smiled as he watched the beasts and all of the creatures within them sink into the harbor, before swimming to the center of the bay. The Spirits of the Hudson and the East joined him, and prepared to repeat the feat should any more monsters attempt to leave the island. 

Thor choked on air as the river calmed as if nothing had ever stirred them. Had…had a mortal demigod, just done that? He knew that the young hero had power but that…that was the feat of a god! 

“Ahem, Warrior Chase,” Thor coughed into his primitive com device.

“Yes, Thor,” the Daughter of Athena said casually. 

“I believe, your beloved has joined the battle…he just drowned two leviathans with the help of the river.”

The sounds of astonishment echoing through the comms was enough to soothe Thor’s own ego, before flying off, but the Warrior Chase only chuckled softly and said, “That’s my Seaweed Brain. How are we doing on Loki and the portal?”

“Puny god,” Hulk’s gruff voice grumbled, drawing a laugh and chuckle from the rest of the team. 

“Guys,” the Black Widow called, “I’m at the tesseract. I can close it.”

“Do it!” The Captain shouted. 

“Hold up guys,” Tony called, “I got a nuclear warhead coming our way. And I know just where to put it.”

The Warrior Chase cursed so colorfully in Ancient Greek it made Thor blush, before she demanded in a tone that brokered no argument, “What idiot fires a nuke at their own city?!” 

…

Annabeth watched the SHIELD Agents swarming Stark Tower and carting off every piece of alien tech and biology that they could get their hands on. Many times, the gruff looking men with guns and the shifty little men in lab coats tried to approach her, but she just gave them the Wolf Stare that Percy had taught her, and even the largest of them did a one-eighty to avoid her gaze. 

“Hey.” Annabeth turned to see Barton watching her with a mix of pain and sympathy. She fixed him with the stare, but when he did no more than grimace, she sighed and turned away. Taking that as the vague acceptance that it was, Barton leaned against the wall beside her and watched the rest of the “Avengers" and Agents begin to transport Loki out of the Tower. “I’m sorry,” Barton finally whispered, “If I had known that the prophecy was coming—”

“How did you learn about them?” Annabeth interrupted, refusing to soften her voice. She was furious with him. Had been for years, and he was not getting out of this. Barton just sighed and said, 

“Will showed up a few weeks after the Second Giant War,” he said softly. “He needed a place to grieve, and he didn’t think he could do that properly at camp, because—”

“Because at camp,” Annabeth finished finally softening with her own grief, “He is a leader, a healer, and needs to be strong for the others, so that they could heal.”

Barton nodded solemnly. “Gods,” he muttered, “I never wanted to see any of my siblings like that. Crumbling under the weight of two wars. That shouldn’t have happened, to any of you, you're just kids.”  

“I haven’t been a kid since I was seven years old,” Annabeth said simply, without condemnation or bitterness, just a simple statement of fact that no one could deny.

Barton nodded gravely and said again, “I’m sorry. I never should have left. I just…I was just so angry with the gods, with Chiron. He did his best, but…it wasn’t enough. They weren’t enough. Their empty platitudes and false promises. I couldn’t take it any more. I had to leave before I snapped.”

Annabeth nodded, “I know. And…I understand…I didn’t then, but…I do now. And I’m sorry to, I should have searched you out a long time ago.”

Barton didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around the young woman. They didn’t cry, or sob, or laugh. They just silently held each other in grim understanding of their world and their place in it. The play things of gods, of parents, who barely knew how to care much less love the mortals they had sired. Finally, Barton pulled away and said with a soft smile, “Hey, we’re all going to get shawarma. Care to join us? And Percy of course! I find I’m suddenly really nostalgic for camp, and I would love to hear how everyone is doing.”

Annabeth nodded and cleared her throat. “Yeah,” she said, “That sounds great.”

“So, Barton is the son of the sun?” Tony said rubbing his temples in a vain attempt to ward off a headache, “The Sun’s Son if you will?”

Barton rolled his eyes lazily and said, “Yes, Stark I’m the Sun’s Son. Sorry I couldn’t tell you, but you wouldn’t have believed me anyway. Happy?”

“No,” Stark said weakly, and dropped his head into his hands. 

A chuckle drew Natasha’s gaze back to the two other demigods and Thor chowing down on their shawarma as if they would never eat again. They were completely unfazed by the fact that they were surrounded by gods and legends, after having faced an army beyond their imaginations. But if half of what Clint, Thor, and these kids had said was true…then this was just another Tuesday for the young adults in front of them. Still, Natasha believed them. The weight of command surrounding the girl. The aura of power circling the boy. The hidden under currents of grief and horrors lurking behind their eyes. These were kids who had seen the worst of the world and had conquered it. And still, every time Natasha looked at them, Annabeth in her dirty armor, and Percy in his tattered Coast guard uniform, she couldn’t help but think, “ They’re too young for this life. ” 

Steve seemed to think the same, because he leaned forward and said, “So how old were you during your first war?”

“Fifteen, actually turned sixteen during the final battle!” Percy said around his shawarma, “Unless you're asking about how old we were when we first started training. In which case, I came to camp at twelve, and Annabeth when she was seven.”

“But,” Annabeth said after whipping her mouth, “Percy faced his first monster at…three?”

“Snakes in the crib,” Percy agreed. “Freaked my mom out. Not that I can remember it of course.”

“Spiders in my sleep,” Annabeth shivered, “I was six.”

Barton shook his head in commiseration, “Yeah, I was lucky. Harpy when I was ten. That’s when I went to camp too.”

“Are…are you ok?” Banner asked softly looking between the three of them with utter pain in his eyes. 

“Oh you know,” Percy said, finally swallowing his food, “Aside from the anxiety, paranoia, PTSD, and occasional death quest because the gods still won’t leave me alone! We’re just peachy!”

Everyone except Thor and Clint stared at them in horror, but Annabeth just waved their concern aside saying, “Look this is just the life of a half-blood. It sucks. But we deal with it. And believe it or not, it’s actually getting better.”

Percy nodded emphatically, and pointed at Clint with his fork saying, “You really need to come back to camp. So much has changed. No one’s unclaimed any more. There's cabins for the minor gods. Annabeth designed this awesome temple that’s going to represent literally every single known Greek god. It’s absolutely beautiful. They started building it last month, and it’s already looking incredible!”

“Percy!” Annabeth hissed as she tried to hide her blush, but her boyfriend just kept going. 

“Oh! And we’ve expanded the border, and we’ve started building housing for adult demigods who want to live in safety. They commute to the city and other mortal towns in Long Island for school and work. It’s not perfect. But it’s the first step in building a place where demigods can actually live their lives in peace from birth to grave.”

The look of pure joy on Barton’s face was so bright it was almost blinding, and Natasha had no problem believing that he was a son of Apollo. “That’s wonderful! What started that?”

“Oh, the Roman demigods have had their own city for generations,” Annabeth said dismissively, “It sounded like a good idea. So we convinced the gods to expand the border and provide the materials for all of the building projects as a reward for defeating Gaia. They call theirs New Rome. So we were thinking of calling our city, New Athens, or New Sparta, or something like that.”

Clint laughed saying, “Let me guess, cabins five and six can’t agree on which one?”

“They won’t stop arguing!” Percy groaned as he drew his hand over his face. “Capture the Flag has become an all out war trying to decide!” Clint burst into laughter, as Natasha turned her questioning gaze to Annabeth.

“The children of Ares and Athena,” Annabeth explained with a slight smile.

“You all do realize there were more Ancient Greek cities than Athens and Sparta right?” Bruce said slowly. 

“Wait!” Tony cried, waving his hand wildly, “Go back. Roman demigods?! Just how many pantheons are there?!” 

Percy and Annabeth shared a look that sent a pit of dread into Natasha’s stomach, and Tony’s head thumped onto the table in defeat.  

[mollyzhuang]

Location: Ocaquatics Community Pool Featuring: Molly Zhuang and River Jackson ( @riverxjackson )

If you were to ask Molly, today was perhaps the busiest July 4th the Kismet Harbor Fire Station had in years. Accidents during a national holiday were to be expected, but this was the sixth incident taking place during the day. This time, they were called in to save a pair of brothers from drowning after being trapped inside a fiberglass cover of the pool when they snuck in after closing the night before. The night janitor hadn’t noticed they were there beneath the glass, nor heard either of the young men when they screamed for help until she heard a punching sound almost twelve hours later. Unfortunately, the glass was stuck in place, keeping the boys locked in for longer.

After being left with no choice, but to break the fiberglass, one of the brothers was brought out without much trouble, but the other had being unable to hold his breath once the five minute mark passed, which pushed Molly dive into the deep part of the pool to bring him out just in the nick of time for other paramedics and EMTs to pull the two of them out. Once the pair were brought towels to dry themselves up, Molly was ordered to step aside to recover, so her co-workers could treat and revive the boy she saved. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, the shivers were beginning to set in.

Truth to be told, the water in the pool was much colder than Molly expected it to be, but in that moment, she couldn’t afford to wait until she got used to the temperature. As she loudly sneezed, however, she realized she might be in the process of catching a cold before she saw River approaching her. ‟Hey, how’s the kid doing? Is he okay?” She asked her friend.

[antiquatedsimmer]

Silas, now a teenager, was granted additional privileges and responsibilities on the farm. However, as he embraced these new opportunities, he couldn't help but feel a tinge of sadness that his education had come to an end.

No longer attending the schoolhouse on a daily basis, Silas found solace in working on the farm during the day and working on his electrical projects late at night, after his father had fallen asleep. Whenever Daniel Coombes paid them a visit, Silas made an extra effort to impress him and engage in conversations about industrial advancements.

While his father, Eddy, remained skeptical about Silas's fascination with technology

he was pleased to see his son actively participating in discussions when guests arrived.

Silas couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as he watched his friend Jackson being thrust into the world of higher education. While Jackson attended a lavish preparatory school, Silas yearned for the same opportunities that seemed to come effortlessly to his friend.

Silas made the journey to visit Jackson several times, riding the distance to catch glimpses of his friend's new life. Each time, he listened intently as Jackson shared stories of his experiences in the classroom and the camaraderie among the boys in the dormitory. It stirred a deep longing within Silas, wishing that his own father could afford such luxuries for him.

In his heart, Silas couldn't help but harbor a sense of resentment towards his father, Edward. He wondered if things could have been different if his father had taken a more proactive approach to their farm. Instead of tirelessly tilling the land without a clear business foundation.

Silas made a conscious effort to push aside his frustrations and focus on enjoying his time with his friend. He knew that dwelling on jealousy and comparisons would only dampen their moments together.

[softdykellie]

Hey girlie! Happy to see a new person in the fandom! I am really interested to know which tlou girlie fall in love with me.

I am an Aquarius cis-lesbian who is very feminine. I like to nurture things and take care of things like planets and little animals I see in nature. I am a relatively cheerful and I am someone that makes a lot of jokes, but also I can be kinda aloof and distant when things touch on things I don’t want to talk about. Like the past or things that I regret. I am a kind, gentle, and cheerful person with a sad soul. I always try to make others feel loved even when I don’t 💔 and just to reference the show, I would be the protected kind of person like frank.

Okay, thank you for reading that edgy mess! 🐰

ellie doesn’t like you at first but she claims it’s not that she doesn’t like you, it’s that you make her uncomfortable, the way you were drawn to gentleness and beauty in a world where that seemed nearly impossible to harbor, she felt like watching a walking sunshine every time you had similar gigs around jackson and her only sane reaction was to cover her eyes. until she saw you crying by the horse stables for the first time. you hadn’t noticed her at first and she deeply debated whether or not to approach you – you weren’t close and maybe you just wanted to be alone – but the way you tried to stiffle your sobs in your hands left her heart aching, she understood pain too well. she cracked a joke out of nowhere which completely startled you at first before she attempted to soften her approach and talk to you, despite your nature you allowed yourself to tell her a little of what ached you and ellie had since then taken upon herself to take care of you. her walking sunshine crying? unacceptable. she didn’t even notice the romantic feelings growing until she saw a stable boy flirt (he wasn’t flirting, he was literally just saying how good you were with animals) with you and the girl was fuming. two days later she asked you out, extremely anxious you might deny her.

[samxbradford]

THE INTRODUCTION.

NAME: Samuel Wade Bradford ALIAS/NICKNAME: Sam, Sammy (only by friends and family), Seven AGE: 32 RESIDENCE: Astra Heights, Downtown, Kismet Harbor, OR TIME IN KISMET HARBOR: since 2020 OCCUPATION: Club Promoter and DJ at High Pulse & part-time mechanic at Extra Mile Mechanics FACECLAIM: Jannis Niewöhner

THE BASICS.

tw: abuse, physical assault, death, substance abuse (drugs/drug overdose, alcohol)

DATE OF BIRTH: APRIL 18th, 1992 HEIGHT: 6'1" HAIR COLOR: Brown EYE COLOR: Blue/Green TATTOOS: One on the left side of his neck, one on his back - more Info will be added later PIERCINGS: None PLACE OF BIRTH: Chicago, IL GENDER / PRONOUNS: Cis-Male (he/him) SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Heterosexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Heteroromantic RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single POSITIVE TRAITS: loyal, protective, creative, honest NEGATIVE TRAITS: abrasive, impulsive, disrespectful, tactless, loud-mouthed SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English, Korean ALLERGIES: Bullshit ILLNESSES/IMPAIRMENTS: Asthma, sensory processing sensitivity (not officially diagnosed)

RELATIONSHIPS.

FATHER: Isaac Bradford (estranged) MOTHER: Bernadette Beauchamp † (estranged) SIBLINGS: Dae-Hyun 'Daniel' Kwan (older half-brother) PARTNER: None CHILDREN: None EXES: TBA FLINGS: Aurora Jackson (late 2023 - early 2024) FRIENDS: Genevieve Hernandez, Maverick Bennett, Molly Zhuang, Nora Sinclair, Orion Blakely, Rhys Morgan (anonymous pen pal), Verity Wagner, Archie Morgan FRENEMIES: TBA COWORKERS: Maverick Bennett, Maddox Cage ANNOYANCES: Simon Heywood, Rhys Morgan PETS: Goldfish named 'Trevor' † (2001 - 2010)

BIOGRAPHY.

Bernadette Beauchamp had never been good with handling loneliness. She hadn't asked for much in life. Just enough to have her life contently. A husband. A child. A white picket fence. Though fate had different plans for the young woman, who'd had her first son at the age of twenty, with a man who would not live long enough to see his son grow up. Living in Chicago, she raised her oldest son by herself, tried to offer her boy everything she could, though her loneliness still reigned her heart and made her search for love in all the wrong places. Stumbling from one relationship to the next, she settled for things she did not deserve. Mistreatment and toxic behavior were her life for the following years to come. This all seemed to change however, once she'd met Isaac Bradford. He seemed different than all the others. He was loving and attentive, caring and willing to provide for her and her son. Four years after meeting, they welcomed their first and only child together - Samuel.

Sam was a bright child, inquisitive and sweet and his world consisted of daydreams and adventures. He was especially close to his father, who taught him to appreciate music and art. So, the family of four lived in Chicago and Bernadette's dream seemed to come true, until Isaac, ten years after Sam was born, ended their relationship without much of a warning or an explanation. Moving not just into a different city but a different state entirely, Sam got to see his father every once in a while. Though as the years passed the letters and visits became less and less, until Isaac's efforts had come to an end completely.

Now only a family of three, Sam's brother stepped in, supported their mother and aided her in raising the young boy, who, ever since his dad had left, had gotten more fussy, more disobedient. His brother was the only one who could manage to talk sense into Sam, when he started lashing out, though as Sam had reached his teenage years, not even his brother could get through to him, most times. In the meanwhile, his mother had not learned from her mistakes, stumbling from relationship to relationship. Sam had forsaken any true endeavors to build any relationship with the men his mother had dated. Barely bothering to remember their names, as he knew they would not stay around for long. And still, it didn't keep him, as well as his brother, from needing to step in, when first signs of abuse in the relationships arose. And still, Sam was always the shoulder for his mother to cry on.

Sam had paid quite a few visits to the juvenile detention center during his adolescence, always for minor charges. This, as well as being expelled from two different schools for repeated misdemeanor, Sam only finished High School at age 20. Working various different jobs afterward, he moved out. Living in a small apartment, Sam spent his spare time partying. Drugs and alcohol flowed freely and although he was never truly addicted, these substances aided him in coping with everything. The hatred aimed toward his father. The hatred aimed toward the men his mother brought home. The helplessness, when seeing his mother so lost and torn.

It was a usual night, a usual party Sam, now in his mid-twenties, went to with a couple of his friend. The booze was flowing and substances were running high in their systems, though his best friend seemed to have overdone it. As Sam tried to aid him on his way home, his best friend collapsed. Trying his best to keep his best friend awake and alive, he called for an ambulance, though the medics could only determine his best friend's death. Sam refused to be taken to the hospital, chose to wander Chicago's streets instead, until the sun had already risen. It was mere hours after the incident, mere hours in which he hadn't managed to even begin processing what had happened, when he received a phone call by his mother. A rustle on her end of the line was subsequently followed by a loud thud and a scream. Instead of calling for police, Sam took care of the situation himself. His mother's black eye was nothing compared to the injuries he'd caused her current boyfriend. Injuries severe enough for him to be sentenced for four years in jail for aggravated assault. Four years, of which he'd served all.

Upon his release, Sam realized that the tides had shifted and life would never be the same again. His mother had grown distant, shocked to have witnessed what her youngest boy was capable of. Friends had turned their backs to him, for their lifestyles were no longer compatible with his. No longer compatible with the one of an ex convict. The only one who had Sam's back (as always) was his older brother, who suggested Sam leave Chicago. Move to a different place. A quieter place, so he might stay out of trouble. A new beginning.

Living in a Downtown apartment for three years, Sam began working as a mechanic at Extra Mile Mechanics, though has reduced his hours to a part-time position since being promoted to a club promoter and DJ at High Pulse. He still drowns his sorrow in substances and parties. In making music and working out. Trying to stay out of trouble proves to be difficult for Sam, as his abrasive and impulsive demeanor oftentimes get the better of him. Act and speak first, think second. To family and friends, Sam is fiercely loyal and would stop at nothing to ensure their happiness and safety, making others a priority. There are only few things Sam genuinely cares about, which reflects in his behavior. Love him or hate him - there are only few who fall in between.

TIMELINE

1992 - Sam was born 2001 - Dae moves to NYC for his internship 2002 - Isaac leaves the family 2003 - Dae returns to Chicago 2012 - Sam graduates High School 2013 - His niece Kim is born 2015 - His nephew Lee is born 2016 - Elliot dies 2016 - Sam gets arrested and sentenced to jail 2018 - His niece Song is born 2018 - His brother's family is in a car crash, of which only Dae makes it out alive 2018 - Has a mental break, believing his brother is dead, spent some time in solitary confinement and the prison's psychiatric wing 2020 - Gets released from jail 2020 - Dae takes him to South Korea 2020 - Sam moves to Kismet Harbor 2023 - Bernadette gets sick and passes away 2023 - Dae moves to Kismet Harbor

[brady-bunch02]

Songs that remind me of Louis de Point du Lac ✨🧛🏾

Cry Me a River - Ella Fitzgerald

Evergreen - Omar Apollo

The Bomb - Florence + The Machine

Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child - Mahalia Jackson

A Pearl - Mitski

Where Is My Mind? - Pixies

Man Of The Year - Schoolboy Q

Weight in Gold - Gallant

Babybird - Chloe x Halle

Die For You - The Weeknd

A BOY IS A GUN* - Tyler, The Creator

Wicked Game - Chris Isaak

My Mind - Yebba

Quiet, The Winter Harbor - Mazzy Star

[romanrhodes]

relationships | wanted connections | wanted & ongoing plots | aesthetic | home - rhodes farm

Hey, look! It’s [ ROMAN RHODES ] at [ THE DIRFTWOOD DINER ]. Did you know they work there as [ OWNER & CHEF ]? I guess they’re from [ KISMET HARBOR, OREGON ] and have been in town for [ PREVIOUSLY TWENTY YEARS, NOW ONE YEAR ], living in [ HAWTHORE HIDEAWAY ]. I also heard they’re a little [ STUBBORN & IMPULSIVE ] but also very [ PASSIONATE & FEARLESS ], which makes sense. [ LEE PACE | 43 | CIS MALE | HE/HIM ] 

BASICS.

full name: Roman David Rhodes nickname(s)/goes by: Ro, Chef, Chef Rhodes, Tomato-Head, The Moose pronouns & gender: He/Him & Cis-Male sexuality: Bisexual age: 43 birth date: April 19th, 1980 birthplace: Kismet Harbor, Oregon arrival in East Haven: 1 year (previously 20 years from birth) housing: Rhodes Farm, Hawthorne Hideaway occupation: Owner & Head Chef workplace: The Driftwood Diner, Driftwood Haven family: Eric Rhodes - Father (70), Pamela Rhodes - Mother (43, deceased), Ryan Rhodes - Older Brother (45), [Wanted Connection] Younger Sister (38) relationship status: Recently Broken Up with Andrew Jackson (36)

PHYSICAL.

eye colour: hazel with blue and green hair: warm brunette, wavy, growing longer facial hair: between stubble and a short beard height: 6'5 | 196cm body type: tall, lean, athletic

PERSONALITY.

positive traits: strong, bold, fearless, confident, energetic, passionate, driven, creative, artistic, romantic, observant, loyal negative traits: stubborn, selfish, reckless, impulsive, sensitive, idealistic, emotional, sarcastic, distant, hyper-independent

astrology: Aries Sun | Cancer Moon | Capricorn Rising

hobbies & interests: baseball, wild swimming, fishing, sailing, hiking, camping, cooking, baking, vegetable gardening, orchardry, foraging, cider brewing, gin distillery, raising chickens, road trips.

AESTHETICS.

character inspirations:

Carmen Berzatto, The Bear (2022)

Carl Casper, Chef (2014)

Julian Slowik, The Menu (2022) - but with a lot less murder and insanity. 

pinterest board: https://pin.it/5ArUK31 

BIOGRAPHY.

trigger warnings: mentions of cancer, death, homophobia

Roman David Rhodes was born on April 19th, 1980, the second child and son of Eric and Pamela Rhodes. His childhood was a happy one - he grew up at Rhodes Farm, in a gorgeous farmhouse and lots of land, and spent a huge amount of time at The Driftwood Diner. Owned and run by his grandparents, Roman bounced between the farm, the diner and school. He was the yin to his elder brother Ryan’s yang - while his brother was the extroverted, popular kid who went on to become the captain of the baseball team and Prom King, Roman was the introvert who preferred growing vegetables and herbs with his mother, searching the land and nearby woods for mushrooms and wild garlic, and baking with his grandmother. Being young, he didn’t understand he ‘wasn’t supposed’ to like doing those things, because he was a boy and boys liked sports, fighting with sticks and causing trouble. His father tried to encourage him to try sports, and practice throwing and batting baseballs with his brother - and Roman enjoyed it because, despite their differences, he looked up to his brother and enjoyed getting his attention. He knew from when he was young that Ryan was the golden child, that his father favoured him and overlooked Roman’s accomplishments for Ryan’s… he didn’t care, as long as his brother was good to him. 

While his father overlooked him and struggled to connect to him, his mother was close to him. She encouraged his un-boyish side - the cooking, the baking, the vegetable growing, the mushroom harvesting. She spoke to his father, and made him see it as an asset - Roman could grow to be interested in the farm and the diner, and work with his brother when Ryan inherited. Roman was given a job at the diner when he turned fourteen, as soon as he could. He was just a Saturday busboy, clearing tables and wrapping cutlery - but it meant he could learn about the diner, and how it was run. He could watch the cooks, and his grandmother encouraged his knowledge of her recipes and processes. As he got older, he progressed to a server, and finally, a cook. To some, a job flipping burgers was an insult, but to Roman, it was great. He understood that cooking a great meal could be fulfilling and that people appreciated the work. By this time, he’d hit his growth spurt and being 6’3 at fifteen meant that the guys at school stopped bothering him, but it did cause a weird tension with his now shorter older brother. 

Roman’s simple life suddenly got a lot more complicated when his mother was diagnosed with cancer, very late stage, and very terminal. She was old enough to see Roman graduate high school, but a year later, she was gone, and it hit the family hard. Roman put off going to college to be able to stay with her as long as he could, and after she died, he was lost, adrift. His dreams and ambitions had outgrown Kismet Harbor and the diner - he wanted to go to culinary school, to travel to Europe and learn and work there. His father was against it initially - his son leaving so soon after his wife - but Roman’s grandparents talked him around… and Roman had the money to fund himself, as he’d been saving since the first day at the diner. And so, he left. He went to culinary school, and he went to Europe to train and work. Over the years, he would come home for holidays and as many birthdays as he could afford. And every time, his dad asked when he was coming home to become the head chef at the diner, and Roman asked if he would own it. This surprised his dad - Ryan was the oldest son, so he would get everything. That wasn’t enough for Roman… if he got the diner, he wanted to make changes. He wanted to keep the heart and soul of the place, and take care of it because people loved it… but he wanted to make it his own, to leave his own mark, to serve his food. His grandparents didn’t want anything to change, and after their death, his father wouldn’t allow it either. And Roman knew that if Ryan owned the diner, he would keep things exactly the same… 

Over time, Roman started to learn more and more and worked at various restaurants across Europe until he returned to America, to work in New York. He worked from place to place, until he found himself at Michelin-star restaurants. His work had transformed from traditional home cooking to high-concept, avant-garde menus reserved for the rich and affluent. He was an award-winning chef, primed to become the head chef of a Michelin-star restaurant, and he thought he’d finally done enough for his father to be proud of him. But every time he went home, his family felt further and further away. His mother was gone, his grandparents had died, and no one understood his work or his passion. They poked fun at him becoming too big for his boot, high and mighty, wondering who he thought he was… And he realised unless he contorted himself to fit into the small box his father had always had in mind for him, he would never be accepted - and he would never be praised and thought of like his brother was. They had a huge fight - Roman, his father, and his brother. Painful and hurtful things were said, and Roman left, going no contact. He honestly thought he might never go back to Kismet Harbor. 

Of course, there were things he was hiding from his family. He’d known from a young age that he was attracted to more than just girls. His first love had been a boy in Kismet Harbor, but he’d been raised Catholic. His family had always talked about him getting married to a woman and having children, and even though that was a possibility… Roman hated suppressing another part of himself, so he could never tell them. 

After five years of not speaking to his family, Roman reached the end of his rope. His career had reached incredible heights, but the mental and emotional burnout was taking its toll on Roman, his relationships and his work. After a disastrous review from a revered, infamous food critic, Roman was given a verbal strip down by the owner of the restaurant, and he was fired. Untethered and unemployed, Roman didn’t know what to do… when he got a call from his father’s lawyer. His father was too ill to continue living at the farm and running the diner, and his brother had left Kismet Harbor two years previously, leaving only a letter behind. Roman inherited everything. It was a shock to the system… Everything he’d always wanted, and now he had it… he wasn’t sure he wanted it anymore. But he had to leave New York, and so he went. It at least gave him something to do. So, in January 2023, he moved back to Kismet Harbor, to restart an old life.

SINCE HIS RETURN.

Since his return to Kismet Harbor, Roman has turned his life around and settled into Rhodes Farm as his home. He's slowly worked, thanks to the help of his neighbours and friends, at fixing up Rhodes Farm - repairing the barn, putting in new fences, and building a chicken coop. He now has chickens, a herb and vegetable garden and he's growing new saplings for the orchard. He has plans for ducks for the pond, a butchering shed and potentially goats, and taking on a farm hand and seasonal fruit pickers in the next year.

At The Driftwood Diner, Roman has successfully integrated a new menu, pulling inspiration from his grandparent's original menu and his own tested recipes. He's opened up the old food truck, taking it out to town events, and has plans to set it up for full-time residence. The diner was closed for renovations in January-February 2024. He's built a great team at The Driftwood, some of whom he would consider his friends.

Roman has rekindled old friendships and built new ones with various people. The most significant relationship he's developed is with Andrew Jackson, a man in his mid-thirties who appeared one day at his rundown farm and offered to help, free of charge. Roman gratefully accepted his help, fed him, and had the biggest crush on him. Out of his own fear, he never told Andrew or approached the subject of same-sex attraction due to his own religious, family and teenage trauma, but his feelings grew into something more. Around Easter, Roman followed Andrew into a chapel after witnessing an argument between Andrew and Andrew's father, where Andrew told him he liked men. Roman confessed and they kissed, but Roman was trying to deal with the issues from his past that living in East Haven had brought back. On his 43rd birthday, the grief of losing his mother came rushing back, and he knew he needed professional help.

Roman and Andrew started dating a month later, and their relationship developed quickly. Roman injured himself to protect Andrew from a firework at the Kismet Harbor 4th July disaster, and to aid his recovery, he asked Andrew to move in with him. After his recovery period, Roman realised he didn't want Andrew to leave, and asked him to officially move to Rhodes Farm at the Wagner wedding. Andrew left him in early March 2024, telling Roman he wasn't happy living at the farm, and that he couldn't make him happy because he didn't want to have children. Roman has been heartbroken since.

Around Mother's Day, Roman decided to reach out to his father through a letter. The older man reacted with a telephone call, asking Roman to visit him. The two have slowly rebuilt their relationship, acknowledging the damage and hurt done on both sides. They are both in a good place, spending Thanksgiving together as a combined Rhodes-Jackson family, and reconnecting with his son has even bettered his father's health.

Roman reconnected with his younger sister, in October 2023. Their relationship has become strained and painful, but Roman is determined to rebuild his connection with her.

[jcknxlibrm]

jackson lieberman was born in kismet harbor, oregon and works as the bartender at high pulse & pt at access athletics. they have been back in kismet harbor since september 2024 and lives in cresthill meadows. they identify as cis male and go by he/him pronouns. (TW: alcohol, death, abuse, drugs)

Stats

Name: Jackson Edward Lieberman

Faceclaim: Jacob Elordi

Gender & Pronouns: Cismale, he/him.

Age: 27

Birthday: August 1st, 1997

Occupation: Personal Trainer @ Access Athletics & Bartender @ High Pulse

Neighborhood: Cresthill Meadows

Time in Kismet Harbor:  A week.

Hometown: Kismet Harbor, OR

Favorite Song: My Life by Billy Joel

Personality:

Zodiac Sign: Leo

Positive Traits: Charismatic, Upbeat, Charming.

Negative Traits: Reckless, Impulsive, Manipulative

Hobbies: Working Out, Running, Playing Hockey, Partying

Likes: Tequila, Sports, Pop Music, Iced Coffee

Dislikes: Early Mornings, Cold Weather, Cheap Clothes, Cats

Biography:

If someone were to to ask Jackson Lieberman about his childhood he would probably say he doesn't remember much of it and swiftly change the subject, which in reality would be complete and utter bullshit.

His mother left home before Jackson had even learnt to walk and even though he was far too young to really understand it all, he could never remember being shown any love or warmth from the parent he had left. When he was around three years old his father was involved in an accident that ended his life, leaving Jackson and his brother in the care of their aunt, who showed the boys the care they had always been severely lacking thus far.

Having never really known his mother or much his father, Jackson grew up feeling a strange sort of guilt. He knew his mother left shortly after he was born and Jackson couldn't help but feel he was to blame for that in an indirect sort of way. Maybe if he hadn't been born his mother would have stayed and been there to look after Jeremy, and maybe if she had stayed his father wouldn't have been the way he was. He never shared any of these thoughts with anyone though, knowing how ridiculous it would all sound. He just dealt with his feelings in the only way he knew how, straight up denial.

These thoughts kept Jackson awake most nights. Unable to sleep as he laid awake thinking how different things could have been. He struggled in school because of this. He could barely stay awake in class, and even when he could, he just couldn't wrap his head around any of it no matter how hard his teachers tried.

The only place he did do well was in gym. Jackson was naturally athletic, he excelled in almost all sports and was especially good at football making it onto the school team his Sophomore year.

Naturally being one of the school's star players came with a certain level of popularity and with that popularity came parties. Jackson garnered a bit of a reputation for being the ultimate out of control party boy. He'd drink the night away and often land himself in a bit of trouble thanks to his drunken antics. finding himself getting a ride home in the back of a cop car most nights, much to the displeasure of his aunt.

Somehow he managed to get accepted into a college a couple of states away thanks to a football scholarship. He was going to miss his brother and his aunt, but other than that knew he couldn't wait to see the back of his hometown and make it big.

He settled quite well into college life but soon enough the drinking, partying and bad antics got the better of him and after one particularly drunken night he found himself in more trouble than he had ever been in before and kicked out of college.

There was no way Jackson was going back to Kismet though. He just couldn't face his brother and the disappointment he'd like cause him. So he didn't tell him he had been kicked out. He was bad enough at texting and calling home anyway, so it was easy to keep the lie going. He got a job near to campus and when that got old he travelled along the coast.

Eventually though the lie was getting a little hard to maintain and since he was only supposed to be at college for a couple of years he knew Jeremy might start to get suspicious if he stayed away from home any longer. So it was time to bite the bullet and return to Kismet. Seeing it as only a temporary stop off before he was out on the road again.

In Summary:

Born and raised in Kismet Habor.

Jeremey Lieberman's little brother.

Sports stare in high school.

Party boy/Chaotic Youth.

Left for college but got kicked out.

Didn't tell anyone he was kicked out.

Travelled around for a few years.

Only back in town to avoid telling his brother the truth about college.

Extras:

Other Stuff(Head Canons):

He lies a lot. He has a weird habit for bullshitting, be it about something as small as where he works, to something as big as where he's been for the last four years. He rarely owns up to his bullshit and isn't entirely sure why he feels the need to be untruthful.

Nobody knows that he got kicked out of college. He knows how quickly things can spread in Kismet and the last thing he wants is for his brother to know that he hasn't been at college the last four years.

He's a massive lightweight. He is known for his party boy antics but it still only takes one or two vodka tonics to get him tipsy, meaning it doesn't take long at all for him to get blackout.

Drives a 1997 Jeep Wrangler. Black. His car is his pride and joy and though it was beat up and old when he bought it and even worse off now, he refused to sell it.

Has cheated in every relationship he has ever been in. He sucks at ending things with people so this often leads to him just straight up cheating, though as with most things Jackson is very rarely honest with the other person about it.

tbc

Wanted Connections

School Friends: People who knew Jackson in High School, he was pretty popular, but not necessarily well liked by all as he could be a bit of an asshole/bully.

Ex: Could be someone he dated before he left for college, an ex hookup/fwb or someone he has had a fling with since arriving in town.

Drinking Buddy: He still parties like he's twenty one and needs someone to match his vibes.

ANYTHING.

[kismetharborapps]

application

ooc information

name: jc

preferred pronouns: he/him

age: 28

timezone: gmt

activity level: 7/10. I try to get on as often as I can.

triggers: none

anything else?: nope

character information

name: Jackson Lieberman

faceclaim: Jacob Elordi

gender & pronouns: cismale he/him

age: 27

birthday: 08/10/1998

place of birth: Kismet Harbor, OR

occupation: Bartender at High Pulse & PT at Access Athletics

neighborhood: Cresthill Meadows

time since arriving in kismet harbor: Since September 2024

filling a wanted connection?: yes, filling Jeremy Lieberman's younger half brother connection.

biography: 

tw: abuse, alcoholism, death

If you were to ask Jackson Lieberman to describe his childhood to you, he would probably say it was happy, normal, and care free and swiftly change the subject. This would be, as with most of the things Jackson says, complete and utter bull.

His mother left home before Jackson could even walk and his father was an abusive drunk. Often taken his frustrations over his wife's departure out on Jackson and his brother Jeremy, who often took the brunt of it. The abuse didn't last long though and when Jackson was almost ten years old his father was involved in a tragic accident, meaning the boys went to live with their aunt in Cresthil Meadows.

Jackson felt a strange sense of guilt for his father's death. Even more so for the abuse his brother had to endure leading up to it. He felt responsible for it all and the guilt carried with him his entire childhood. He struggled to sleep. Constantly being kept awake by his constant ever growing guilt. This lead him to struggle in most of his classes. The only place he did do well was in gym thanks to Jackson's natural athletic ability. He excelled in almost all sports and was especially good at football making it onto the school team his Sophomore year.

Being one of the school's star players came with a certain level of popularity and with that popularity came parties. Jackson garnered a bit of a reputation for being the ultimate out of control party boy. He'd drink the night away and often land himself in a bit of trouble thanks to his drunken antics.

Somehow he managed to get accepted into a college a couple of states away thanks to a football scholarship. He was going to miss his brother and his aunt but other than that he was happy to see the back of his hometown and make it big elsewhere. Jackson settled quite well into college life at first but soon enough the drinking, partying and bad antics got the better of him and after one particularly drunken night he found himself kicked out of college due to bad behaviour.

There was no way Jackson was going back home. He just couldn't face his brother and the disappointment he'd likely cause him. So he didn't tell him he had been kicked out and kept the facade that he was still in college going. He got a job just off campus and when that got boring he moved on travelling down the coast, stopping in random towns for a few weeks before he got bored again and moved on to the next.

Eventually he realised that he couldn't keep up the college lie for much longer and knew Jeremy might start to get suspicious if he stayed away from home forever. So it was time to bite the bullet and return to Kismet. He didn't have much of a plan, other than to track down his brother's place, find a crappy little job, and someday be rid of this town again, sooner rather than later.

other: here

pets: no pets

town activities: none(yet)

draw of luck: Yes