#my girl is in trouble i'm killing everyone on that island and then myself

[elizabeth-mitchells]

very sexy of her tbh

[demonfox38]

Completed - Ys II: Ancient Ys Vanished – The Final Chapter

Do we need to do the GDQ Orb chant?

Jumping into "Ys II" after finishing "Ys I" may have been a touch masochistic on my part. Not that I didn't get through the game in a decent amount of time or didn't occasionally enjoy myself. But, that final boss…woof! What a goodwill shredder! Having said that, I still have my goal of 12 games to beat this year in front of me (with 9 being from my Steam library.) "Ys II" was right there, packaged right in with its predecessor. I figured if I was going to tackle it, now would be better than later. At least I would be going in prepped for the full abuse that the "Ys" series could throw at me with the memory of the Push System fresh in my fingertips.

I went in, prepared to take grenades to the face.

"Ys II" opted for tomatoes instead.

"Ys II: Ancient Ys Vanished – The Final Chapter" is the second in line of the "Ys" games. Notably, nowhere near the last. (I guess "final" here is about as final as the finals in "Final Fantasy!") Produced a year after "Ys I," it has since followed its counterpart in several ports across multiple PC platforms, providing an extended story arc for its predecessor. Is it a story conclusion? A contradictory twist? Continuing the twin theming from the previous game? Well, it's at least a couple of those things. Ya know. Things coming in twos and all.

Having defeated the wicked mage Dark Fact (yeah, I know; snicker snicker) and reunited all six tomes of Ys' sages from the first game, hero Adol goes from being gently bathed in light and surrounded by goddesses to being punted headfirst into a floating island. So much for his dignity and inventory! Oddly enough, this would happen to be the titular country of Ys that has been missing for over 700 years. Having been recovered once again by the locals, Adol takes their advice and journeys out to Solomon Shrine, where the two goddesses of Ys are said to—

Wait, I thought I was there last game. How is this shrine up here, too? Did I go into the past or a parallel dimension? No? Then how did nobody notice this floating island before? Does that have something to do with the storm wall in the first game? Translator, help? Did I misunderstand something from the last game? Why are you busy making "The Room" jokes?

Did "Ys II" need a sequel? Fiscally, sure! Plotwise? I thought we had solved enough problems last time. I guess not. Not that I mind killing demons, but going back-to-back with the previous game, it does feel a little bit unstable in terms of its plot's foundation. Most of the pieces I found interesting had to do with side elements, like the drama with Sada's failed rescue of his fiancée, as well as whatever hell the human-friendly demon Keith was going through. Even the main quest and its resolution is…fine. Good enough. I think I just got sick of everyone trying to hook up Adol with this game's lead girl.

Look, man. I'm just not into moe. I kind of need something more than a girl being cute and sweet going on to form an attachment. Especially when said character keeps getting in trouble every 30 seconds.

So, the plot's whatever. It happens. What I am surprised with is how well tuned up the gameplay is from the previous game. It's still got the base Push System for dealing with enemies. However, it felt way better to me this time around. I don't know if it had to do with wider hitboxes/environment design, or if I was doing better at paying attention to my attacks, or what changed. Something clicked, this time. I didn't feel so much like I was walking into a meat grinder as I was the meat grinder.

Additionally, the game grants you access to a variety of spells. This allows for ranged combat, which in turn greatly improved the boss design of "Ys II" over its predecessor. Last time around, it was all about fiddly movement. This time? The bosses felt more like something out of a bullet hell game, requiring you to respond in kind with your own fireballs. Like, actual boss design. "Gradius"-style boss design! And, hell! I can handle that! I was trained on those kinds of boss battles! Even in later battles, where your sword strikes were required, the game was not nearly as cruel as it was last time around. Like, it even pitches you extra healing items and a revive item, if you need it! Way more approachable!

The overall progression in game felt more logical as well. While you get more sets of armor and weaponry, it all flows upwards (not requiring the user to downgrade their weaponry to fight the final boss, like in the previous game.) The auto-health regeneration item also shows up way earlier, which I appreciated! There are more levels to be gained, but the statistic caps are the same (255), so it doesn’t feel too different there. A greater variety in environment design also helped. It wasn't just village/cave/shrine/tower, this time. Fire and ice environments in particular helped to break up some of the exploration monotony. The same labyrinthine looping is still happening, but it doesn't feel quite as snarled as before. Some places can feel huge or confusing, but not to the extent I felt with the previous game.

About the only other twist with "Ys II" is the implementation of a rudimentary affection system. If you equip a regenerative item (think food, flowers) and bump into a townsperson, you can offer them said item. Giving certain characters multiple items might get you little mascot charms of them, as well as bonus items. Me? I was about getting extra food. Not that I needed it much, but hey. I'm not throwing out a cheap steak.

My feelings on this game are weird. Very confusing. See, there's really not all that much difference between "Ys I" and "Ys II." There's still maze exploration, shoving monsters around, a difficult economy, and an occasional escort mission (complete with weird and/or creepy achievements.) Having a ranged option and some tuned up boss designs just made that much of a difference, I guess. Shit. Is this what "Mega Man 2" fanatics feel like?

Getting "Ys II" on Steam does necessitate getting "Ys I" as well, so I guess I would wait for a sale, if the sequel did sound appealing to you. Like, 50% off? 0.5 is just an inversion of 2, right? Makes it thematically appropriate. Somehow. I guess.

I mean, you don't have to play everything you buy. But, I certainly don't want to burden you with something extra. Then again, if we finally hit that triple A gaming crash that we're due for, maybe you'll finally have time to tackle your backlog! Maybe then, this won't feel like a burden to add.

[startrekfangirl2233-fic-recs]

This was me seeing this chapter float across my notifications, Em! It's a travesty that I just started to read it now, though. But I'm ready for you to blow my mind. You usually do, but I feel like it needed to be said!

He'd already eaten breakfast, gone for a long run and taken a shower, and he was still one of the first ones here. Except for Judy.

I see our chicken is still an early bird. Or are you telling me that his callsign is because of something else, Em?

"Do you really think she would be a good fit? You'll be working on the yacht for weeks, and all she has is a graduate degree and a daddy with a bankroll." She handed him your résumé with a concerned look.

I promise Judy, he's not only thinking about her professional and personal qualifications, but also how good she'd look wearing a bikini for him on that yacht.

Bradley made himself another cup of coffee before he settled into his seat. His office had a fantastic view of the Pacific Ocean in the distance along with the Naval base at North Island where he'd spent several years working. Sometimes he missed it, other times he didn't. Flying was in his blood, but after five air-to-air kills, it seemed like he'd given up enough of his soul to the Navy. Now he was helping oversee the design of software components that would help keep aviators safer in the air. 

I love that you're exploring Bradley's career post Navy, working as a contractor for the Navy. He's an ace now, just like Mav, too?!

And that thought brought him back to the main reason you would be here in the next few minutes. What kind of information could he get out of you? Bradley noticed that the profit and loss sheets from several departments didn't seem to add up. That had been the case for two quarters in a row. When he mentioned it to one of the harried looking accountants one floor down, he told Bradley they wouldn't have time to run an unnecessary audit before next quarter started.

There is definitely something out of the ordinary happening at Avio. I can't wait to see how Brat's involvement with Bradley makes all of this go down.

Bradley smiled, and his gaze followed your hand as you touched that pretty charm again. "Oh... I want you plenty. Something tells me yachts and Mediterranean vacations are something you simply grew up with. I'm just trying to sell myself now."

The imagery here is making me sweat a little bit, Em. He's already down so bad for Brat. They're going to ignite in an inferno and the flames are going to singe everyone in sight.

You sputtered with laughter, too. "Did you just call me Ivy League?" "I sure did," he told you, still laughing. "It's about ten times nicer than what I was going to say." Your soft gasp as your eyes positively lit up made Bradley's heart beat a little faster. "Well, what were you going to say?" you asked before biting your lip.  Shit. You were trouble, and you knew it. "Never mind. My lips are sealed. Can't say that to Ted's daughter."

Trouble. Ivy League. Brat. You can call me whatever you want, Mr. Bradshaw. Please allow me to bring you coffee in my skimpy little bikini. Please. I will pay you for that honor and your big cock, daddy.

He cleared his throat as he opened his contacts and then put his phone on speaker. He was greeted with a familiar voice filled with laughter. "Rooster! When are you going to get that yacht warmed up for me?" Bradley just shook his head and said, "Hangman. You're not going to believe who my summer intern is."

Hangman! I love that Jake and Bradley are still friends after all of this time! I can't wait to see what his role is at Avio and how he fits into this mystery Bradley's trying to solve.

They actually were all Armani, and you'd have a field day when you realized it. Or perhaps skinny dipping would become a thing?

Please, please, please. Em don't make a girl beg. I've already been unleashed and I am feral for this version of this man.

Sir. That one word was echoing through his mind along with your bratty tone, and he had to take a deep breath.

That one word is echoing through my mind too, daddy. Don't fret. I'm down to cause some trouble in your life.

"If she gets to be too much, just leave her in one of the marinas with her passport."

Excuse me for glaring right at the back of your fucking bald head, Ted. I don't like you at all. You may be Ivy's dad in this, but I kind of need you to leave my page before I jump in there and knee you someplace very sensitive and tender in the male anatomy.

Bradley examined your pretty face, and you didn't look away. He remembered the dress you wore to Ted's holiday party, and you remembered his sweater. Right now he was wishing he'd joined you for that bottle of French wine that night, something he'd remedy on the yacht. A flood of bad decisions just waiting to happen filled his mind as he said, "Go say goodbye to your father. It's almost time to go." "Yes, Sir," you told him with your chin held high and a smirk gracing your lips. Bradley stood at the bottom of the stairs while you flung your arms around Ted and kissed him on the cheek. Then you came strolling his way once again, and he followed you closely up the stairs as you turned back and softly said, "I'm all yours."

Every time Ivy calls Bradley, Sir, I want to roll back and forth and giggle and kick my feet in the air. Don't ask me what could possibly go wrong, because the answer is a lot. I have this terribly sick feeling in my stomach which screams that Bradley is looking into something which he's probably not expecting to be as bad as it actually ends up being. I'm thinking destruction of Avio and everything. You have me waiting with baited breath, Em! I can't wait to see what the next chapter of Ivy and Rooster brings!

The Intern Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Five minutes into an interview with you, and Bradley knew he was in trouble. You were attractive, funny and smart, and now the summer was stretching out before him like an obstacle course he would have to navigate carefully. At least a visit from an old friend should be enough to help him work through his frustrations.

Warnings: Language, mentions of smut and masturbation (eventually 18+)

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

The Intern masterlist. Check out my masterlist for more. Banner by @mak-32

When Bradley got to the Avio headquarters the following morning, he rode the elevator up to his office. He'd already eaten breakfast, gone for a long run and taken a shower, and he was still one of the first ones here. Except for Judy. He smiled when her desk came into view as he turned toward his office door. She was sweet, and it scared him a little bit how much she reminded him of his mom. She was a widow with one son in college, and Bradley would be lost without her. 

"Morning," she said, handing him his mail as he walked past without her even looking up at him. "You have a very busy day, and I already turned on your coffee maker."

He really needed to give her another raise. "Thanks, Judy. Hey, what time is that interview I have?" he asked, flipping through the stack of envelopes in his hand. 

Now she looked up from her computer and met his eyes. "Nine o'clock. And it's Ted's daughter."

"I know," he replied with a small smile. 

"Do you really think she would be a good fit? You'll be working on the yacht for weeks, and all she has is a graduate degree and a daddy with a bankroll." She handed him your résumé with a concerned look.

He shrugged as he skimmed the page again. "She has some related work experience. She volunteered to run the finances for a handful of Philadelphia based charities every year. Her references include the Philadelphia deputy mayor. But you're right, she's pretty green. I'll take this with me," he said as he held the résumé up and headed for his door. "Let me know when she arrives."

"Will do," Judy muttered. 

Bradley made himself another cup of coffee before he settled into his seat. His office had a fantastic view of the Pacific Ocean in the distance along with the Naval base at North Island where he'd spent several years working. Sometimes he missed it, other times he didn't. Flying was in his blood, but after five air-to-air kills, it seemed like he'd given up enough of his soul to the Navy. Now he was helping oversee the design of software components that would help keep aviators safer in the air. 

He turned his gaze from the view outside back to your resume. Your name at the top made him smile, and the more he read about you, the more he liked. None of the other people begging him for a job in his department had the same level of academic chops or philanthropic endeavors you did. And he couldn't imagine you begging for a single damn thing, ever. He tapped his keyboard, wondering what your LinkedIn profile looked like. 

Well. Your photo was gorgeous. It was professional looking without a doubt, but he knew better now that the way your smile tilted a little higher on one side meant you were about to deliver a line that would make him laugh. He wondered if you'd had the photographer smiling nonstop, too. 

Bradley paused with his fingers on his keyboard, but he couldn't help it. He typed your full name into the search bar and sorted it by images. There were more headshots of you from academic articles and a few newspapers, but when he scrolled he almost spit his coffee out. There was one of you wearing that same bikini you had on yesterday. When he clicked it for more, it took him to your private instagram page. 

He stared at that tiny thumbnail before he closed his eyes. Really, the way you looked wasn't why he asked you to come here today, and he'd spent a good portion of last evening trying to focus on anything other than how it felt to have your body pressed against his while he held you.

"Fuck," he grunted. He really needed to get laid. He made another mental note next to the one about Judy's raise. He would call one of his friends with benefits and get that taken care of, because if you agreed to join him for a couple months on the company yacht, he'd probably see that bikini again and again. And there was no way he could touch Ted's daughter. Not like that. Even if he wanted to.

And that thought brought him back to the main reason you would be here in the next few minutes. What kind of information could he get out of you? Bradley noticed that the profit and loss sheets from several departments didn't seem to add up. That had been the case for two quarters in a row. When he mentioned it to one of the harried looking accountants one floor down, he told Bradley they wouldn't have time to run an unnecessary audit before next quarter started. 

Someone in this company was doing something shady, and Bradley wanted to know who it was and why. He'd gone over those numbers for days, double checking his math. He knew he wasn't crazy, but he didn't know who he could safely take this information to, especially when the specs on the software they were creating was considered top secret. 

"Your interview is here," Judy's voice suddenly announced through his intercom.

Bradley quickly closed out of the photo of you in a bathing suit that was still on his screen and slammed his laptop shut. "Send her in."

A few seconds later, Judy was holding the door open for you, and you thanked her as you strolled in like you owned the company. Your hair was styled in some sort of clip, and you were wearing a perfectly tailored black suit. Bradley shook his head; it was rich that you called him out for his proclivity for Armani when yours was probably worth three times as much. His gaze drifted down your legs. Your black and white heels were the kinds of things he would love to have thrown over his shoulders in bed, and the bit of white silk peeking out above your jacket buttons reminded him of your skimpy pajamas. 

Inviting you here was a terrible idea. 

You smirked as you ran your right index finger along the charm from Tiffany's that hung from your necklace, and then you reached out to shake his hand over his desk. "Mr. Bradshaw. So lovely to see you again today." Your voice was playful, and Bradley gestured for you to take a seat while he tried his best to gather his thoughts. 

"I was a little afraid you'd show up in your bathing suit," he said, and you nodded as you crossed your legs and set your leather portfolio on your lap. 

"I can certainly understand the cause for that concern," you replied, not missing a beat. "However, I promise you'll see nothing but Armani suits from here on out if I end up coming to the office every day. Now what would you have me do for you all summer? Fetch your coffee? Give you the abridged version of the Wall Street Journal? Sit in on pointless meetings in the conference room across the hallway?"

"That's just it," he said, tilting his head to the side and taking in your neutral expression. He hardly knew what to do with the fact that you made him feel warm and slightly uncomfortable when you were being sassy. "We wouldn't be here at all. And actually, you could wear your bathing suit and swim half the time for all I cared."

Your eyes lit up immediately as you leaned closer to his desk. "This sounds like a trap, but please, carry on. Tell me more."

He chuckled as he moved a little closer to you as well. "I'm being tasked with taking a few weeks to a couple months on the company yacht in the Mediterranean. I have the technical knowledge as well as the access to arrange meetings with members of Avio's European sales team to close some deals. This is all top secret information, but since you've got the right connections, I'll go ahead and tell you that the US government has given us the greenlight to sell our software to a select list of countries."

You licked your lips, and Bradley could barely focus as you said, "So you'll be the one calling all the shots. And you need to have access to some of these countries to schedule meetings and dinners and cocktail parties. You'll be working from the yacht in much the same capacity you are currently working from your office, still expected to head the research department here. But you'll have the added workload of trying to answer questions and sell the software in Europe? Did I miss anything?"

Bradley's eyes went a little wide as he chuckled. "No. Not really."

You were smiling now. "This sounds like half work and half sorority party, and let me tell you, I am more than capable of making both of those things go as smoothly for you as possible."

"Yeah," he said, his voice a little raspy now. "But you'll have to put up with me. And some of these clients have been known to be a little difficult in... a variety of different ways." Bradley's mind drifted to last summer when he'd been on the yacht for a week as well as the summer before that. The wealthier a man becomes, the more he seems to think he could have whatever he wants, and Bradley had seen some wild shit. "But I'll do my best to keep you comfortable and safe. The workload will be intense, to say the least. But it'll all be happening on a one hundred and thirty foot superyacht." 

You eyed him carefully. "This sounds like it was custom made for me, so you either want me or you don't, Mr. Bradshaw." 

Bradley smiled, and his gaze followed your hand as you touched that pretty charm again. "Oh... I want you plenty. Something tells me yachts and Mediterranean vacations are something you simply grew up with. I'm just trying to sell myself now."

The way you laughed reminded him once again of that night in December when you asked him if he wanted to share a bottle of wine with you. "You're very persuasive, Mr. Bradshaw. I can practically smell the sunblock and taste the pasta from here." You bit your lip and considered him, and it felt to Bradley like you could see every flaw and indiscretion inside of him. "Where did you go to school anyway? Yale? Brown? No wait... you look like a Princeton boy to me."

He shook his head as he pointed to his college diploma on the wall. "I went to a state school." 

You gasped, and your eyes went wide as you muttered, "Jesus," while you read it. "Political science? At the University of Virginia? Oh... you should be lying to people. I mean, at least say you went to Dartmouth."

Bradley tried and failed to hold in his laughter, because you truly looked scandalized by this turn of events. "Aww, come on, Ivy League. It's not so bad."

You sputtered with laughter, too. "Did you just call me Ivy League?"

"I sure did," he told you, still laughing. "It's about ten times nicer than what I was going to say."

Your soft gasp as your eyes positively lit up made Bradley's heart beat a little faster. "Well, what were you going to say?" you asked before biting your lip. 

Shit. You were trouble, and you knew it. "Never mind. My lips are sealed. Can't say that to Ted's daughter."

You sighed and rolled your eyes. "You're no fun right now, but I'm sure as soon as I get you loosened up in some Armani swim trunks on the yacht, you'll be an absolute pleasure for me to deal with."

The way Bradley's cock was twitching should have been warning enough. He was about to get in over his head. But all he could say was, "Does that mean you want the internship?"

Your smile tilted up a little higher on the one side. "Oh, absolutely." Then you stood before him looking like the cat who got the cream, and Bradley had to hope for the best as he stood as well. He could mark this as the first time he'd ever become slightly aroused during an interview, a sign that he desperately needed to get laid. 

He shook your hand and said, "We leave in a few days. Judy will help you get your visas in order. Sound good?"

"Sounds perfect, Mr. Bradshaw." 

The way you here still holding his hand and calling him Mr. Bradshaw left his voice barely louder than a rasp. "Judy and I will be in touch."

You turned and shot him a smile over your shoulder as you headed for his office door, and Bradley dropped back down in his chair. He'd call Callie about getting together to hook up before he left for Europe, but he had another more important call to make first. He cleared his throat as he opened his contacts and then put his phone on speaker. He was greeted with a familiar voice filled with laughter.

"Rooster! When are you going to get that yacht warmed up for me?"

Bradley just shook his head and said, "Hangman. You're not going to believe who my summer intern is."

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You were floating on a raft in the pool wearing your second favorite bathing suit when you were greeted by the sound of your father's voice. "I sincerely hope you know what you're doing by wasting your time right now."

"Daddy," you greeted with a smile. "My day was a complete and utter success."

He checked his watch as he said, "Please, elaborate."

You had the trump card, but you knew all too well what it would be like if you didn't. Instead of lecturing you like you could tell he wanted to, he smiled when you said, "I have a job."

"Where?" 

"Avio."

He nodded in appreciation as he said, "I am actually impressed right now. You managed to secure an internship at the company I've spent decades with, and you did so without me knowing anything about it. Which department?"

"Research and development," you replied smoothly.

His eyes went wider. "With Bradley Bradshaw?"

Your tummy swooped, and you sucked in a breath at the mere mention of his name. Spending weeks working with him and entertaining guests with him was going to be... well, something. "Yes. With Bradley Bradshaw."

"Sweetheart," your father said. "He had a career in the Navy."

"Yes. He was an aviator," you recalled from his Avio bio.

"That means he's not going to put up with any nonsense. You don't make him repeat himself, and you don't give him attitude. I'll know immediately if he's displeased with you, I'm sure."

Bradley didn't seem stuffy. He'd already encouraged you to pack your bathing suits. Hell, you were determined to get him to join you in some fun. "Well maybe not immediately as he and I will be on the Avio yacht in the Mediterranean."

Your father stared at you, speechless. Finally he said, "I really don't know how you managed to get exactly what you wanted, but I applaud you, Sweetheart. Well done. I know it sounds fun, but you'll be kept very busy. I hope you know what you're in for."

When he finally wandered back inside after you promised to join him for dinner, you soaked up the last few rays of the dying sunlight. Then you made a mental list of everything you needed to spend the next few days packing as you brushed up on your French and Italian.  "J'adore mon travail. Amo il mio lavoro. I love my job."

--------------------------

Bradley was still chuckling as he got off the phone with Ted a few days later. Your father tried to warn him that you could be a bit of a handful. Like Bradley wasn't fully aware of that fact. As if he hadn't known since December. He could practically hear your disdain for his alma mater and your delight in international travel from his condo.

He was stacking his suits up in his extra bedroom along with several pairs of shoes, and he shook his head as he looked down at his swim trunks in his hands. They actually were all Armani, and you'd have a field day when you realized it. Or perhaps skinny dipping would become a thing?

Fuck. He needed to stop thinking about you like that. Callie Bassett was on her way over, so that should help alleviate some of this tension. He'd been friends with Halo for over a decade, and she had slowly and naturally turned into a friend with benefits over time. She was still in the Navy, and she was discreet. It was easier than having a girlfriend. It was all he had time for. 

As he organized his suits, he remembered you told him he looked like a Princeton boy. He could just picture you with a parade of preppy assholes following you around, and he wondered if you ever slummed it with anyone like him before. It made him want to pack some of his casual clothes including his Virgina baseball cap and his worn out golf shorts. So he did. 

Then his doorbell buzzed, and he went to let Callie in. He needed this taken care of right now. She smelled good, and she looked cute. She always did. And she wore something a little skimpy just for him. The kiss on his cheek in greeting quickly turned to her lips brushing his as she said, "I haven't seen you in weeks."

"Been busy," he replied, taking her by the hand and heading for his bedroom. "And I'm leaving for Portugal on Saturday."

"How long?" she asked, pouting a little bit as Bradley reached for the hem of her dress and eased it up and over her head in one fluid motion. 

"Couple months," he whispered, taking in her soft, naked body with his gaze. 

"Months?" she whined as he wrapped his hands around her waist and smirked at her. 

"Don't even act like we are anything close to exclusive, Cal. Now... how do you want it?"

She licked her lips and looked up at him with those familiar dark eyes just as his phone rang in his pocket. He didn't hesitate or check the number; he never did. "Bradshaw."

"Hey, State School. I have a few questions for you."

Bradley froze with your voice in his ear and Callie's fingers on his zipper. He grunted softly as she eased it down and touched him. He just knew if he closed his eyes and listened to your voice, he'd probably finish in her hand within two minutes. 

"Ivy League," he rasped, taking a step back away from Halo who was now standing before him completely naked and rolling her eyes.

"Are you busy?" you asked, and Bradley looked Halo in the eyes without remorse as he answered you.

"No. I'm not busy. I can talk." He held up one finger and zipped himself up as he left his bedroom in favor of his office. "As long as you tell me how you got this number."

You laughed as he sank down into his desk chair. "You think it's exclusive or something? Judy gave it to me. And it's probably listed on the company website."

Brat. He narrowed his eyes, adding a note to his mental list to make sure it was not listed on the company website. "What can I help you with?"

"Well, I'm packing and hoping for a little input from you."

"On Thursday night at nine?" he asked. "And don't you have a butler to help you with that?"

"Like you have anything else going on?"

Bradley thought about Callie waiting in his bedroom, but instead of ushering this call along, he asked, "What did you pack so far?"

You sighed. "Sixteen bathing suits, piles of lingerie, and sunglasses. And I'm only kind of kidding."

Fighting the urge to ask for more details, he said, "Unfortunately I can't let you wear any of that in front of potential clients. So throw in some suits and dresses."

"Some suits and dresses? You'll need to be a little bit more specific, Sir." 

Sir.

That one word was echoing through his mind along with your bratty tone, and he had to take a deep breath. "Why don't you bring the suit you wore when I interviewed you? That looked good. And so did the dress you wore to your father's holiday party. The dark green one."

There was a pause before you said, "You remember what I wore to the party?"

"Yeah," he grunted, rubbing his hand over his face in frustration. "It looked nice. Pack some cocktail dresses, too."

"How many should I pack?"

"How many do you have?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

Bradley laughed. "I'm sure you know better than I do what you should wear."

You scoffed. "You're acting like you've never spent a summer on the Avio yacht before."

"I haven't," he replied easily. "Just a few days here and there. I'm sure I'll be learning things from you."

"Then you'll be learning from the best."

He bit back a groan as he said, "That's what I'm counting on. That's why I hired you."

"I won't let you down," you promised, and Bradley believed you. "I'll see you at the airport on Saturday morning. Don't forget your swim trunks."

You ended the call before he could say another word, and now he was convinced you had called him simply because you could. If he was frustrated before, it was nothing compared to the way he felt now. Spending weeks on end with Ted's daughter was supposed to help him get to the bottom of the messy business with Avio, not cause other issues to arise. 

He unzipped his pants, intent on touching himself,  before jolting to his feet. "Shit," he muttered as he left his office and went back to his bedroom. "Cal?" he called out. "Sorry. It was a work call." But he was completely alone. He laughed as his phone vibrated in his hand with a text from her.

Have a great time in Europe. Don't bother calling me when you get back.

Bradley was sure he'd hear about this from his old friend Natasha when Callie bitched about him at work. But it didn't really matter. After she had a few weeks to cool off, she'd come back when he needed her again. For now, he'd take matters into his own hands and hope that would be enough.

----------------------

Your father insisted upon seeing you off on Saturday morning which gave Bradley a few minutes alone with him. He was listening to Ted as he watched you struggle with your seven pieces of Dior luggage on the tarmac next to the chartered airplane. 

"Bradley, you don't know what you've gotten yourself into," your father told him with a laugh. "She's tenacious though. And whip smart. Make sure you challenge her, because she will certainly challenge you."

Now Bradley laughed as he shook Ted's hand. "I'll do my best."

"If she gets to be too much, just leave her in one of the marinas with her passport."

He would never do that to you. He doubted it would ever come to that. In fact, he was already impressed by the way you took care of things for yourself. Sure, you looked like you belonged in an ad for designer gym clothes with your leggings and soft hoodie zipped over your sports bra. But you were also taking your luggage from the back of the black Mercedes-Benz G-Class yourself.

"I can assure you that she and I will be just fine, Sir."

"What have I told you about calling me Ted?" Bradley received a friendly cuff on the shoulder before shaking his hand and turning toward you. 

He picked up the last two pieces of your luggage at the same time and carried them to the cargo hold while you trailed after him. "I don't need help," you told him as he stowed them away. Then you added, "You look weird out of your Armani."

"I look weird?" he asked with a laugh as he glanced down at his chinos and Oxford shirt.

"A good kind of weird. Like when you wore that Fair Isle sweater last year."

Bradley examined your pretty face, and you didn't look away. He remembered the dress you wore to Ted's holiday party, and you remembered his sweater. Right now he was wishing he'd joined you for that bottle of French wine that night, something he'd remedy on the yacht. A flood of bad decisions just waiting to happen filled his mind as he said, "Go say goodbye to your father. It's almost time to go."

"Yes, Sir," you told him with your chin held high and a smirk gracing your lips. Bradley stood at the bottom of the stairs while you flung your arms around Ted and kissed him on the cheek. Then you came strolling his way once again, and he followed you closely up the stairs as you turned back and softly said, "I'm all yours."

--------------------------

Ivy League spells trouble for Bradley, but at least he knows it. And he didn't get an ounce of relief before getting on that plane. What could possibly go wrong? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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[mspi]

That's scary as fuh to me

Sure I'm a city girl, but it doesn't mean I haven't witnessed scary AF poop in the provinces of SE Asian islands. Even the roaches that scatter away in the servants quarters when the lights turn on can make you scream. The giant thick bugs fly, not scuttle--FLY!

There are worse things than that if you have booger cousins who punk "wussy" American city me. Didn't write it the description of my winter vacation not wanting to get myself or cousins in trouble. I think my kick across my cousin's face--after I rushed out of a cave they dared me to enter was fair punishment.

What the heck was in the cave? Fruit bats with glowing eyes hanging upside down. Batman would've gone through there with a blow torch to kill/cook them. Five foot wing span. Yes it prompted enough energy for me to rush out there and fly with a swing kick high enough to slap my cousin.

Hello 👋 I'm the younger one by years who's visiting you from across the ocean. Thought y'all would be a little nicer. (I apologized to them years later when they came to the States to work as a nurse. I also noticed they were a little slow.)

Back to the reptiles, basically 🐉🐲 in the provinces. Still can't believe they have anaconda and others in the deep provinces that can swallow people and cattle whole. It's way disturbing if you catch the news articles on it. My grandpa was ready with his shotgun if family or servants screamed in horror.

I've hung out in cool lagoons out there where I didn't need to worry about anything, yet as news reaches me overseas, I get the chills when hearing about a person's body being cut out of the gut of a constrictor.

A marine thought I was being a wuss about it all, then heard about where some of our land was. Yep he knows it's not a joke. Relaxed him by letting them know I'd be in a luxury condo if I decided to move back there. It would be complete with puppies, cooks, maids, and dog walkers.

Not so big news, I'm staying in the States. They've got me covered on my medical needs. Believe it should be something on everyone's mind before trying to give up their citizenship. That goes for people in the EU as well. You've got it made.

-- dnagirl

25.08.2023

[blondrichclosetwitch]

I think they've gathered here for me

You are beside me

I am beside you where something is meant to be

Prison can’t hold all this greedy intention

And so _______ calls the cops And they arrive on the scene

With their red lights flashin' in the hot

New Jersey night

He could identify the guilty

"Remember you said you saw the getaway car?"

The trial was a pig-circus, he never had a chance

Guess who testified*

Yes, that's the story of the Hurricane

The gooder they come, the harder they fall

Turn around you are a nasty joke, oh yeah

Get your heart beatin' baby

That's all I ever get from your family ties

Take your little brother swimming

They can't understand it, I'm just a Peace lovin' guy

You know how sometimes you're so tired of the country you could run to the ocean till there's nothing but sky

Blows the cover of lies but in the same breath your heart breaks

That jukebox in the corner blastin' out my favorite song

it won't be long til summer comes, now that the boys are here again

It's no secret that I left you and still I don't know why

We were stuck in a sad song

Only you can make me do what I don't usually do

So don't treat me like a puppet on a string cause I know how to do my thing

You said you wanted to feel alive so we went to the beach

When you don't know who you are you fuck around and find out

I can't hide from you like I hide from myself

I'm tryna protect myself but only you know how to

Thank you, thank you, I'm okay cause you care, I made it through today

Never will forget I came

We all laugh oh, hah, what a gas!—watching you chew on the bones; in the morning light you didn't look so nice

Now, John, at the bar is a friend of mine. He says, Bill, I believe this is killing me.

And the waitress is practicing politics

They say he's sick, he’s obscene 

I got no friends 'cause they read the papers

Let me tell you about the other side

Telling my whole life with his words

Killing me softly with his song

Just this side of love is where you'll find the confidence not to continue

It’s up to us to break the cycle

Every step we take from here is vital

You and your girl, things could be pretty

But underneath this there is a secret that nobody can reveal

On Fire Island……

Mommy never laughed when the joke wasn't funny

If someone asked me to describe her I'd recall everything

Where do my parents end and where do I begin?

Daddy always worked hard

He didn't sleep much

Daddy always wanted everyone to like him

I think I'm just like him

Things like that drive me out of my mind

"At the count of 3," he says, "I hope I can disappear"

Baby Borderline

Throw!, away your troubles, baby, dream a dream of me.

You need a big God

Shower your affection, let it rain on me and pull down the mountain, drag your cities to the sea

Coincide with the air, fall in love with the sea

A doom is awaiting unless we undo our damage

I love my baby and my baby loves me

I passed the streets where I lived for 10 years when I saw ya by the river

We walked the beach and You reached for my hand

This is unconditional love

And the moral of the story, I can testify

Cause there's nothing quite like

The blinding light

That curtains cast aside,

And no attempt is made to explain away

Things that really, really, really really really are behind.

You can't hide...

[thewidowsghost]

The Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 8

(Y/n)'s POV

I know someone at camp resents Percy and me because one night, I come into the cabin alone and find a mortal newspaper dropped inside the doorway, a copy of the New York Daily News, opened to the Metro page. The article takes me almost an hour to read, because the angrier I get, the more the words float around on the page.

GIRL, BOY, AND MOTHER STILL MISSING AFTER FREAK CAR ACCIDENT

By Eileen Smythe

Sally Jackson, son Percy, and daughter (Y/n) are still missing one week after their mysterious disappearance. The family's badly burned '78 Camaro was discovered last Saturday on a north Long Island road with the roof ripped off and the front axle broken. The car had flipped and skidded for several hundred feet before exploding.

Mother, daughter, and son had gone for a weekend vacation to Montauk, but left hastily, under mysterious circumstances. Small traces of blood were found in the car and near the scene of the wreck, but there were no other signs of the missing Jacksons. Residents in the rural area reported seeing nothing unusual around the time of the accident.

Ms. Jackson's husband, Gabe Ugliano, claims that his stepson, Percy Jackson, is a troubled child who has been kicked out of numerous boarding schools and has expressed violent tendencies in the past.

Police would not say whether son Percy is a suspect in his sister's and his mother's disappearance, but they have not ruled out foul play. Below are recent pictures of Sally Jackson, (Y/n), Percy. Police urge anyone with information to call the following toll-free Crimestoppers hotline.

The phone number is circled in black marker.

I wad up the paper and throw it away, flopping down on my bunk on the far edge of the cabin under the window facing the sea.

I remain silent as Percy walks into the cabin, flopping down onto his bunk as well.

That night, I have the worst dream yet.

I was running along the beach in a storm. This time, there was a city behind me. Not New York. The sprawl was different: buildings spread farther apart, palm trees and low hills in the distance.

About a hundred yards down the surf, two men were fighting. They looked like TV wrestlers, muscular, with beards and long hair. Both wore flowing Greek tunics, one trimmed in blue, the other in green. They grappled with each other, wrestled, kicked, and head-butted, and every time they connected, lightning flashed, the sky grew darker, and the wind rose.

I had to stop them. I didn't know why. But the harder I ran, the more the wind blew me back until I was running in place, my heels digging uselessly in the sand.

Over the roar of the storm, I could hear the blue-robed one yelling at the green-robed one, Give it back! Give it back! Like a kindergartner fighting over a toy.

The waves got bigger, crashing into the beach, spraying me with salt.

I yelled, Stop it! Stop fighting!

The ground shook. Laughter came from somewhere under the earth, and a voice so deep and evil it turned my blood to ice.

Come down, little hero, the voice crooned. Come down!

The sand split beneath me, opening up a crevice straight down to the center of the earth. My feet slipped, and darkness swallowed me.

I wake up, sure I'm falling.

I am still in bed in Cabin Three. My body tells me it's morning, but it's dark outside, and thunder rolls over the hills.

A storm is brewing.

I hadn't dreamed that . . .

I hear a clopping sound at the door, a hoof knocking on the threshold.

"Come in?" Percy asks, sounding uncertain.

Grover trots inside, looking worried. "Mr. D wants to see the two of you."

"Why?" I ask, peeking through the curtain separating mine and Percy's side of the cabin.

'He wants to kill . . . I mean, I'd better let him tell you."

Nervously, Percy and I get dressed and follow, sure we were in huge trouble.

For days, Percy and I'd been half expecting a summons to the Big House. Now that we were declared children of Poseidon, one of the Big Three gods who weren't supposed to have kids, I figure it's just a crime for us to be alive. The other gods had probably been debating on the best way to punish us for existing, and now Mr. D is ready to deliver their verdict.

Over Long Island Sound, the sky looks like ink soup coming to a boil. A hazy curtain of rain is coming in our direction. I ask Grover if we'd need an umbrella.

"No," Grover says. "It never rains here unless we want it to."

Percy points at the storm, 'What the heck is that, then?"

Grover glances uneasily at the sky. "It'll pass around us. Bad weather always does."

I realize that he's right. In the week I'd been here, it had never even been overcast. The few rain clouds I'd seen had skirted right around the edges of the valley.

But this storm . . .

This one's huge.

At the volleyball pit, the kids from Apollo's cabin are playing a morning game against the satyrs. Dionysius's twins - Castor and Pollux - are walking around in the strawberry fields, making the plants grow. Everyone is going about their normal business, but they look tense; they keep their eyes on the storm.

Grover, Percy, and I walk up the front porch of the Big House. Dionysus sits at the pinochle table in his tiger-striped Hawaiian shirt with his Diet Coke, just as he had on my first day. Chiron sits across the table in his fake wheelchair. They are playing against invisible opponents - two sets of cards hovering in the air.

"Well, well," Mr. D says without looking up. "Our little celebrities."

I wait.

"Come closer," Mr. D says. "And don't expect me to kowtow to you, mortals, just because old Barnacle-Beard is your father."

A net of lightning flashes across the clouds; thunder shakes the windows of the house.

"Blah, blah, blah," Dionysus grumbles.

Chiron faints interest in his pinochle cards and Grover cowers by the railing, his hooves clopping back and forth.

"If I had my way," Dionysus says, "I would cause your molecules to erupt in flames. We'd sweep up the ashes and be done with a lot of trouble. But Chiron seems to feel this would be against my mission at this cursed camp: to keep you little brats safe from harm."

"Spontaneous combustion is a form of harm, Mr. D," Chiron puts in.

"Nonsense," Dionysus says. "Boy wouldn't feel a thing. Nevertheless, I've agreed to restrain myself. I'm thinking of turning you into a dolphin instead, sending you back to your father."

"Mr. D - " Chiron warns.

"Oh, all right," Dionysus relents. "There's one more option. But it's deadly foolishness." Dionysus rises, and the invisible players' cards drop onto the table. "I'm off to Olympus for the emergency meeting. If the boy is still here when I get back, I'll turn him into an Atlantic bottlenose. Do you understand? And Perseus Jackson, if you're at all smart, you'll see that's a much more sensible choice than what Chiron feels you two must do."

Dionysus picks up a playing card, twists it, and it becomes a plastic rectangle. A security pass. He snaps his fingers. The air seems to fold and bend around him. He becomes a hologram, a wind, then he is gone, leaving only the smell of fresh-pressed grapes lingering behind.

Chiron smiles at me and Percy, but he looks tired and strained. "Sit, Percy,(Y/n), please. And Grover."

We do.

Chiron lays his cards on the table, a winning hand he hadn't gotten to use.

"Tell me, (Y/n)," he says. "What did you make of the hellhound?"

Just hearing the name makes me shudder.

Chiron probably wants me to say, Heck, it was nothing. I eat hellhounds for breakfast. But I don't feel like lying.

"It scared me," I admit. "If you hadn't shot it, I'd be dead."

"You two will meet worse. Far worse, before you're done."

"Done?" Percy asks. "With what?"

"You're quest, of course," Chiron says. "Will you accept it?"

I glance at Grover, who is crossing his fingers.

"Sir," I say, "you haven't told us what it is yet."

Chiron grimaces. "Well, that's the hard part, the details."

Thunder rumbles across the valley. The storm clouds had now reached the edge of the beach. As far as I can see, the sky and the sea were boiling together.

"Poseidon and Zeus," I guess. "They're fighting over something valuable . . . something that was stolen, aren't they?"

Chiron and Grover exchange looks.

Chiron shoots forward in his wheelchair. "How did you know that?"

"The weather since Christmas has been weird, like the sea and the sky are fighting. Then I talked to Annabeth, and she'd overheard something about a theft. And...I've also been having these dreams."

"I knew it," Grover says, his eyes bright.

"Hush, satyr," Chiron orders.

"But it is his quest!" Grover's eyes sparkle with excitement. "It must be!"

"Only the Oracle can determine," Chiron strokes his bristly beard. "Nevertheless, (Y/n), you are correct. Your father and Zeus are having their worst quarrel in centuries. They are fighting over something valuable that was stolen. To be precise: a lightning bolt."

Percy laughs, looking nervous, "A what?"

"Do not take this lightly," Chiron warns. "I'm not talking about some tinfoil-covered zigzag you'd see in a second-grade play. I'm talking about a two-foot-long cylinder of high-grade celestial bronze, capped on both ends with god-level explosives."

"Oh."

"Zeus's master bolt," Chiron says, getting worked up now. "The symbol of his power, from which all other lightning bolts are patterned. The first weapon made by the Cyclopes for the war against the Titans, the bolt that sheered the top off Mount Etna and hurled Kronos from his throne; the master bolt, which packs enough power to make mortal hydrogen bombs look like firecrackers."

"And it's missing?" I guess.

"Stolen," Chiron corrects.

"By whom?" I ask though I guessed what he was going to say.

"By you two," Chiron says and Percy's jaw drops.

"At least"—Chiron holds up a hand—"that's what Zeus thinks. During the winter solstice, at the last council of the gods, Zeus and Poseidon argued. The usual nonsense: 'Mother Rhea always liked you best,' 'Air disasters are more spectacular than sea disasters,' et cetera. Afterward, Zeus realized his master bolt was missing, taken from the throne room under his very nose. He immediately blamed Poseidon. Now, a god cannot usurp another god's symbol of power directly—that is forbidden by the most ancient of divine laws. But Zeus believes your father convinced a human hero to take it."

"But I didn't - We didn't -" Percy goes to say.

"Patience and listen, child," Chiron says. "Zeus has good reason to be suspicious. The forges of the Cyclopes are under the ocean, which gives Poseidon some influence over the makers of his brother's lightning. Zeus believes Poseidon has taken the master bolt and is now secretly having the Cyclopes build an arsenal of illegal copies, which might be used to topple Zeus from his throne. The only thing Zeus wasn't sure about was which hero Poseidon used to steal the bolt. Now Poseidon has openly claimed you two as his children. You were in New York over the winter holidays. You could easily have snuck into Olympus. Zeus believes he has found his thief.

"But we've never even been to Olympus! Zeus is crazy!"

Chiron and Grover glance nervously at the sky. The clouds don't seem to be parting around us, as Grover had promised. They are rolling straight over the valley, sealing us in like a coffin lid.

"Er, Percy . . . ?" Grover says. "We don't use the c-word to describe the Lord of the Sky."

"Perhaps paranoid," Chiron suggests. "Then again, Poseidon has tried to unseat Zeus before. I believe that was question thirty-eight on your final exam...." He looked at Percy.

"The Golden Net?" I guess again. "Poseidon and Hera and a few other gods trapped Zeus in it and wouldn't let him out until he promised to be a better ruler?"

"Correct," Chiron says. "And Zeus has never trusted Poseidon since. Of course, Poseidon denies stealing the master bolt. He took great offense at the accusation. The two have been arguing back and forth for months, threatening war. And now, you two have come along—the proverbial last straw."

"But we're just kids!" Percy protests.

"Percy," Grover cuts in, "if you were Zeus, and you already thought your brother was plotting to overthrow you, then your brother suddenly admitted he had broken the sacred oath he took after World War II, and that he's father, not one, but two mortal heroes who might be used as a weapon against you . . . Wouldn't that put a twist in your toga?"

"But I - we didn't do anything, Poseidon - our dad - he didn't really have this master bolt stolen, did he?" Percy asks, and I remain silent in thought.

Chiron sighs. "Most thinking observers would agree that thievery is not Poseidon's style. But the Sea God is too proud to try convincing Zeus of that. Zeus has demanded that Poseidon return the bolt by the summer solstice. That's June twenty-first, ten days from now. Poseidon wants an apology for being called a thief by the same date. I hoped that diplomacy might prevail, that Hera or Demeter or Hestia would make the two brothers see sense. But your arrival has inflamed Zeus's temper. Now neither god will back down. Unless someone intervenes, unless the master bolt is found and returned to Zeus before the solstice, there will be war. And do you know what a fullfledged war would look like, Percy? (Y/n)?"

"Bad?" Percy guesses.

"I'd guess that it would be like nature at war with itself," I say and Chiron nods.

"Olympians forced to choose sides between Zeus and Poseidon. Destruction. Carnage. Millions dead. Western civilization turned into a battleground so big it will make the Trojan War look like a water-balloon fight," Chiron adds to (Y/n)'s statement.

"Bad," Percy repeats.

"And you, Percy and (Y/n) Jackson, would be the first to feel Zeus's wrath."

And then, it starts to rain. Volleyball players stop their game and start in stunned silence at the sky.

We had brought this storm to Half-Blood Hill. Zeus was punishing the whole camp because of us.

"So we have to find that bolt," I say. "And return it to Zeus."

"What better peace offering," Chiron says, "than to have the son and daughter of Poseidon return Zeus's property.

"If Poseidon doesn't have it, where is the thing?" Percy asks.

"I believe I know." Chiron's expression is grim. "Part of a prophecy I had years ago...well, some of the lines make sense to me, now. But before I can say more, you must officially take up the quest. You must seek the counsel of the Oracle."

"Why can't you tell us where the bolt is beforehand?" Percy asks.

"Because if I did, you would be too afraid to accept the challenge."

I swallow thickly. "Good reason."

"You agree then?" Chiron asks.

I exchange a glance with Percy, then Grover, who nods encouragingly.

Easy for him, I think. We're the ones Zeus wants to kill.

"All right," Percy says. "It's better than being turned into a dolphin."

"Then it's time you consulted the Oracle," Chiron says. "Go upstairs, Percy and (Y/n) Jackson, to the attic. When you come back down, assuming you're still sane, we will talk more."

. . .

"Well?" Chiron asks us.

We slump into our chairs at the pinochle table. "She said we would retrieve what was stolen.

Grover sits forward, chewing excitedly on the remains of a Diet Coke can. "That's great!

"What did the Oracle say exactly?" Chiron presses. "This is important."

My ears are still tingling from the reptilian voice. "She said we would go west and face a god who had turned. We would retrieve what was stolen and see it safely returned."

"I knew it," Grover says.

Chiron doesn't look satisfied. "Anything else?"

"No," Percy says. "That's about it."

He studies Percy's face, then meets my green gaze. "Very well. But know this: the Oracle's words often have double meanings. Don't dwell on them too much. The truth is not always clear until events come to pass."

I get the feeling he knows we're holding something back, and he's trying to make us feel better.

"Okay," Percy says, looking anxious to change topics. "So where do we go? Who's this god in the west?"

"Ah, think, Percy," Chiron says."if Zeus and Poseidon weaken each other in a war, who stands to gain."

"Someone else who wants to take over?" I guess.

"Yes, quite. Someone who harbors a grudge, who has been unhappy with his lot since the world was divided eons ago, whose kingdom would grow powerful with the deaths of millions. Someone who hates his brothers for forcing him into an oath to have no more children, an oath that both of them have now broken."

"Hades," I say, raising an eyebrow.

Chiron nods. "The Lord of the Dead is the only possibility."

A scrap of aluminum dribbles out of Grover's mouth. "Whoa, wait. Wh - what?"

"A Fury came after Percy," Chiron reminds him. "She watched the young man until she was sure of his identity, then tried to kill him. Furies obey only one lord: Hades."

"Yes, but - but Hades hates all heroes," Grover protests. "Especially if he has found out Percy and (Y/n) are children of Poseidon . . ."

"A hellhound got into the forest," Chiron continues. "Those can only be summoned from the Fields of Punishment, and it had to be summoned by someone within the camp. Hades must have a spy here. He must suspect Poseidon will try to use Percy and (Y/n) to clear his name. Hades would very much like to kill these young half-bloods before he can take on the quest."

"Great," I mutter. "That's two major gods who want to kill us."

"But a quest to . . ." Grover swallows. "I mean, couldn't the master bolt be in someplace like Maine? Maine's very nice this time of year."

"Hades sent a minion to steal the master bolt," Chiron insisted. "He hid it in the Underworld, knowing full well that Zeus would blame Poseidon. I don't pretend to understand the Lord of the Dead's motives perfectly, or why he chose this time to start a war, but one thing is certain. Percy and (Y/n) must go to the Underworld, find the master bolt, and reveal the truth."

A strange fire burns in my stomach. The weirdest thing is, it isn't fear. It's anticipation. The desire for revenger. Hades had tried to kill me two times so far with the Minotaur, and the hellhound. It is his fault my mother had disappeared in a flash of light. Now he is trying to frame me, my dad, and my brother for a theft we hadn't committed.

Grover is trembling now; he'd started eating pinochle cards like potato chips.

The poor guy had to complete a quest with me and Percy so he could get his searcher's license, whatever that is, but how can I ask him to do this quest, especially when the Oracle said we were destined to fail?" This is a suicide mission.

"Look, if we know it's Hades," Percy tells Chiron, "why can't we just tell the other gods? Zeus and Poseidon could go down to the Underworld and bust some heads."

"Suspecting and knowing are not the same," Chiron says. "Besides, even if the other gods suspect Hades—and I imagine Poseidon does—they couldn't retrieve the bolt themselves. Gods cannot cross each other's territories except by invitation. That is another ancient rule. Heroes, on the other hand, have certain privileges. They can go anywhere, challenge anyone, as long as they're bold enough and strong enough to do it. No god can be held responsible for a hero's actions. Why do you think the gods always operate through humans?"

"You're saying I'm being used," Percy says.

"I'm saying it's no accident Poseidon had claimed you and (Y/n) now. It's a very risky gamble, but he's in a desperate situation. He needs the two of you."

My dad needs us.

Emotions roll around inside me like bits of glass in a kaleidoscope. I don't know whether to feel resentful or grateful or happy or angry. Poseidon had ignored me for twelve years. Now suddenly he needed me.

3rd Person POV

Percy looks at Chiron. "You've known I was Poseidon's son all along, haven't you?"

"I had my suspicions. As I said . . . I've spoken to the Oracle, too."

(Y/n) gets the feeling that there is a lot he wasn't telling them about the prophecy, but she decides that she couldn't worry about that at the moment. After all, she and Percy were hiding back information too."

"So let me get this straight," Percy says. "We're supposed to go to the Underworld and confront the Lord of the Dead."

"Check," Chiron says.

"Find the most powerful weapon in the universe."

"Check."

"And get it back to Olympus before the summer solstice, in ten days."

"That's about right."

(Y/n) looks over at Grover, who gulps down the ace of hearts.

"But I mention that Maine is very nice this time of year?" he asks weakly.

"You don't have to go," Percy tells him. "I can't ask that of you."

"Oh . . ." He shifts his hooves. "No . . . it's just that satyrs and underground places . . . well . . ." He takes a deep breath, then stands, brushing the shredded cards and aluminum bits off his t-shirts. "You saved my life, (Y/n), Percy. If . . . if you're serious about wanting me along, I won't let the two of you down."

Percy feels so relieved that he wanted to cry, though he didn't think that would be very heroic. Grover is the only friend she'd ever had for longer than a few months. Percy isn't sure what a satyr can do against the forces of the dead but he feels better knowing he'd be with them.

"All the way, G-man," Percy turns to Chiron. "The Oracle just said to go west."

"The entrance to the Underworld is always in the west. It moves from age to age, just like Olympus. Right now, of course, it's in America."

"Where?"

Chiron looks surprised. "I thought that would be obvious enough. The entrance to the Underworld is in Los Angeles."

Percy's POV

"Oh," I said. "Naturally. So we just get on a plane -"

"No!" Grover shrieks. "Percy, what are you thinking? Have you ever been on a plane in your life?"

I shake my head, feeling embarrassed. My mom had never taken me and (Y/n) anywhere by plane. She'd always said we didn't have the money. Besides, her parents had died in a plane crash.

"Percy, think," Chiron says. "You are the son of the Sea God. Your father's bitterest rival is Zeus, Lord of the Sky. Your mother knew better than to trust you in an airplane. You would be in Zeus's domain. You would never come down again alive."

Overhead, lightning crackles and thunder booms.

"Okay," (Y/n) says, not looking up at the storm. "So, we'll travel overland."

"That's right," Chiron says. "Two companions may accompany you. Grover is one. The other has already volunteered if you will accept her help."

(Y/n)'s POV

"Gee," I say, feigning surprise. "Who else would be stupid enough to volunteer for a suicide quest like this?"

The air shimmers behind Chiron.

Annabeth Chase becomes visible, stuffing her Yankees cap into her back pocket.

"I've been waiting a long time for a quest, Seaweed Brain," she says. "Athena is no fan of Poseidon, but if you're going to save the world, I'm the best person to keep you from messing up."

"If you do say so yourself," I say. "I suppose you have a plan, wise girl?"

Her cheeks flush. "Do you want my help or not?"

The truth is, I do. I need all the help I can get.

"A quartet," I say. "That'll work."

"Excellent," Chiron says. "This afternoon, we can take you as far as the bus terminal in Manhattan. After that, you are on your own."

Lightning flashes. Rain pours down on the meadows that were never supposed to have violent weather.

"No time to waste," Chiron says. "I think you should all get packing."

Word Count: 4018 words

[bookio]

Hell's Paradise vol 1 (2018) by Yuji Kaku

Picked this manga up randomly and got pleasantly surprised! A white haired young ninja is to be executed after killing a lot of guards. But he has an ability where his skin becomes very tough to break, making him impossible to kill.

Instead he is sent to a mysterious island for a chance to be set free and rejoin his wife. Ahh i love his wife. She's so kind and hates violence. The plan is for them to run away together from the Ninja society because they hate violence and hurting people, they just wanna live a normal life like be farmers or something.

Anyway, this island is suppose to hold the elixir of immortality. Many insane prisoners are sent there to find the king a bottle so they'll be granted freedom from their past deeds. Every prisoner is assigned a guardian, a samurai executioner that has to bring back the prisoner's head in case of failure.

Our white haired man has a female samurai (everyone else is male), and she's insanely cool imo. She's cold but shares the same ideology of not wanting to kill BUT does it too for survival. Same reason to fit into a society they've been brought up in. They team along as they face the other prisoners who also have various unique abilities.

Omg, I have to mention. There's a tall handsome executioner with an eyepatch who got much screentime but as soon as they reached the island he died in the most ungraceful way. It's so funny and ironic i having trouble dealing with my sadness ahaaha. Nooo, i miss him honestly! Dammit!

I want to continue this series! 5/5 stars

- - - - -

My Hero Academia by Kohei Horikoshi

I'm gonna write very quickly about each volume very selfishly, to remember and confirm to myself that i read them! So spoilers as usual!

Vol 9 — The training camp gets attacked by villains with the intention of recruiting the angry Bakugo to their team.

Vol 10 — The class fail to protect Bakugo, and he gets kidnapped. The teacher heroes join their students to look for him.

Vol 11 — Despite being weak, All Might feel pressured to save everyone and fights the biggest villain of all - All for One. The fight get so intense that it leads him to lose his powers, but Bakugo gets saved! All Might finds out that the villain guy with hands over his body, is the grandchild of All Might's deceased master. He was left at an orphanage for safety. Deku learn he was not the first choice to inherit All Mights powers, but another boy named Mirio (?). Due to the high rise of villains, the students now has to live as the school. They design each individual room, i love it.

Vol 12 — Class training vs other hero schools as examination test to get Hero ID card. The characters get new updated costumes.

Vol 13 — Deku and Bakugo have an emotional moment of frustration, as they fight about their childhood rivalry and shared loss of their idol All Might (he didn't die but he lost his powers, so he just their regular teacher now). Bakugo feels guilty. Poor baby. 😭

Vol 14 — The villains are fighting over who's gonna be the main boss now when All For One is in jail. A guy in plague mask claims the position.

Vol 15 — Deku joins Mirio (Lemillion?) as interns at All Might's side-kick Nighteye. He's an office man who can see like 30 min into the future or something. They accidentally bump into plague mask villain and learn he has daughter named Eri, who seem to be abused.

Vol 16 — Raid to save the daughter. Plague mask is using her blood to make bullets, that in contact with others enhance their ability to crazy amount. In this volume we get exciting Red Riot lore finally ♥️♥️

Vol 18 — Office man dead, i'm very upset. Girl is saved. By having her on his back, she enhanced Deku's power to extreme so the plague mask could be defeated and arrested. However the villain with hands over his body caught up to the police car and killed plague mask personally to reclaim boss title.

My library didn't have volume 17 and 20 in for the moment, so I'll just carry on. Haven't been so invested in a manga for so long, i ordered some merch! 5/5 stars

[angelsswirl]

Been Through

Chapter 5: You plus me can be dangerous

She said you look crazy. Thank you, baby. I owe it all to you.

"So...."

"What, Lisa?"

"I was just wondering..."

"Please just say it."

"What do you do for your heats?" You were half embarrassed, half....something else. You're surprised she asked and to be honest you were tempted to torture her with the undoubtedly sexy truth. But you decided now wasn't the time to make her suffer.

Besides, you were doing that enough for the both of you. Lisa asking you about your heat had thrust you into a spiral of memories involving Lisa and your heat. And a particular night that several mistakes were made.

"Fuck myself. What do you think I do?" You had changed your mind again. You definitely wanted to tease her with all the details. The look on Lisa's face definitely did not disappoint.

It was comical really. Quite frankly it was your right to mess with her like this. If she wanted to ask intensely personal questions, then she was going to get intensely personal answers. You're not even quite sure what her original angle was, but you're determined to uncover it and hopefully fuck up her thought process.

"Well, I don't know, maybe you're seeing someone." Ohhhhhh! That's what she was getting at.

You almost wanted to laugh. What was going on in your life that could have possibly made her think that you weren't single? Hell, you probably smelled single.

"Maybe."

Lisa only blinked, the sort of mischievous and shy look she had at first slowly morphed into indifferent jealousy. And again. You wanted to laugh.

"It depends. Most of the time I use my fingers or this fancy dildo I found on a website that shant be named."

Lisa gulped. Her leg started to bounce on the linoleum of your kitchen floor. Ha. Serves her right.

"Sometimes, when I'm dripping and aching so bad I can't think straight I go find some alpha on the street. And it's never hard. Either I'm irresistible or alphas just really are that easy."

Lisa's jaw clenched. Her hands wringing themselves restless on the marble countertop.

"But yeah, most of the time I just fuck myself silly." You said as innocently and nonchalantly as you could. You're an asshole, and you're well aware of that fact.

"Y-you think you need any help next time?" Lisa asked without looking you in the eye. Instead she was staring up at the high ceiling.

This just kept getting better and better. For you that is. Probably not for her.

"From you?"

Lisa shrugged her left shoulder in a minute gesture.

"Maybe."

"Hmm. I'll think about it." Yes, you were going to think about it long and hard. You got up from the counter and walked back toward the fridge after checking the time.

It was almost time for you to wake Lily up from her nap, so she could eat lunch.

"Why? So, you can weigh your options between me and Jennie?"

That time you did laugh.

"I haven't talked to Jennie in like a week and half. Congratulations, Ms. Manoban. You might have beat her to the punch on this one." You leaned against the fridge with your arms folded across your chest.

Lisa stood and approached you slowly. Like she was stalking prey or something. When she finally stopped directly in front of you, you became distinctly aware of your height difference. It annoyed you to no end. It always had.

Lisa was only maybe two and a half inches taller than you, but it always felt like an entire foot. And she knew you hated it. It was infuriating. At least Jennie didn't tower over you.

"About time." Your eyes fell to her lips as they formed her words. It doesn't feel like you're moving, you don't think you are until you notice that your lips are as close to hers as they could possibly be without touching. Your heartbeat picked up.

"Mommy! Come here!" You took a harsh step back, and with it, a deep breath to soothe your fast beating heart.

"Duty calls." You said stiffly. It was only then that you realized the hand that had been on your waist a few seconds prior. It had been resting there comfortably if the tingly feeling was anything to go by.

You almost tripped in your haste to get across the room. Your control had almost slipped right through your grasp and that was something you couldn't have.

You paused in the doorway leading to the main hall, "And to think, if you walked a little faster, you could have kissed me."

Lisa didn't say anything.

You were about to go tend to your daughter before something else you had felt during that...exchange...occurred to you, "Oh, and you might want to take a cold shower before you leave. I can only imagine you'd be a bit uncomfortable if you didn't." You let your eyes drift low onto Lisa's body.

Lisa looked down at herself with a confused frown, then groaned loudly. She turned toward the counter to give herself at least some sort of modesty.

You turned back around and set off in search of your daughter.

Yes. Control. That's what this was all about.

~~~

The truth of the matter was that you were confused. And, yes, obviously you were confused. Duh.

You were stuck inbetween someone who didn't seem to want you enough and someone who maybe wanted you a bit too much.

The thought that some people would simply kill to be in your position was astounding at this point.

How could anyone want this?

To have the thought of someone's broken heart swaying back and forth over your head like one of those anvils you see in old cartoons. To make sure your daughter's interest was taken into account. To be happy yourself.

It all seemed too far fetched.

Whoever came up with the phrase "victimless crime" was a pathological liar. There were no victimless crimes. Everyone's a victim in some way.

Love, apparently, was your crime of choice. A horrible choice you had made four years ago.

Love.

The same people who thought that this was a desirable situation to be in were also the people who would say choosing should be easy.

Who do you love the most?

But it wasn't that simple. It was never that simple. Nothing would ever be that simple. Not love for you at least. It's not even really about that! It's about control.

It all leads back to the control.

If you have control you can stay out of trouble. If you have control no one gets hurt. If you have control you won't get your heart broken.

The last time you gave up control? Letting Chaeyoung convince you to talk to Lisa. And the time before that? 4 years prior. That thing that got you pregnant.

So, no. You weren't letting your gaurd down. You weren't losing control.

And maybe that makes you selfish. Or an asshole. Or evil. Whatever. So be it. At least no one will get hurt.

~~~

"Can we talk?"

"How did you find me here? It was Chae, wasn't it? I'm going to stop talking to her. She has a big mouth." You were a bit tipsy, you must admit. But, honestly, you deserved it. You're a single mother in LA who's stuck in a love triangle. The least you could do is get shit-faced once in a while.

"It doesn't matter. I just want- no- need to talk to you."

You looked your companion up and down with a frown. Her hands are shoved in her pockets, and she's looking around the admittedly dingy bar like she much rather be anywhere else but here. Or maybe she's just nervous.

"I thought you were ignoring me."

"I was- I mean I wasn't! It's-I'm sorry. I fucked up."

"It's been three weeks Jennie. Kissing a girl and then ditching her for 21 days doesn't exactly make her want to talk to you again surprisingly enough." You took a strong sip of your Long Island iced tea.

"I know. I really am sorry, Y/N. I, um, I really miss you and I've been doing things backwards and I want to be with you and it took me way too long to sort through my emotions and I really like kissing you and I'm still in-

You hated rambling or at least tipsy you hated rambling so you stopped it the only way you knew how.

With your lips. On Jennie's.

Oh, and don't worry. You're in complete control.

[lostadrianda]

The house of wolves

Part II

Ссылка на русскую версию: https://ficbook.net/readfic/8551009

I move on along the familiar path. My feet are dragging themselves. I’m getting closer to the aim. I know it, but I won't admit it to myself. I bend the branches of trees that block the road. I scratch my foot on some sticks and don't even pay much attention. My head is spinning… Yes, but no wonder, with such a life it is easy to go mad, it was I who held on for a long time. The noise gets louder. I go to it — the most accurate reference point. It's already rumbling in my ears. I climb up on a black rock, my foot slides a little, but I hold on, jumping on until I reach the edge. The water breaks down, whipping up white foam. Small drops keep falling on my skin. I shiver from the cold. And the answer is so simple. Waiting for five years is, of course, a very long time. I should have met you then, Death. You know, you too have the power to defeat the Fox. But you keep waiting and taking only my loved ones. Here I am! Maybe you needed me all this time.

The river breaks on sharp rocks. It pulls leaves and small twigs down with it. I can't look away. And my heart is so calm… I can't remember the last time this happened to me. I can still control something in my life. What's the difference? A month or two, they'll be done with me soon anyway.

"Have you decided to go down?"

I look back at the voice. Among the spruce branches, the guy stands, only his skin turns white. I look at him and give him some time. Everyone recognize me. But he doesn't say anything. Too bad, I'd like to get this over with.

"Are you a son of the Tsar's?"

"I am. Since when is it customary to talk to traitors?”

Come on, you know what to do. Are you too young and not brave enough yet? No, you're about my age. The guy steps forward.

“I was trained to shoot traitors like mad dogs”.

“Then why do you hesitate?"

“You're not a traitor".

My foot slides down and I have to jump off the rocks. I haven't heard anything like this in a long time. I squint my eyes and can't find any good words.

“Who are you?"

"Go back, or they'll start looking for you in the camp. Tomorrow at dawn, come to the house on the edge of the forest”.

“Why would I do that?"

“What else can you do?"

The grass under my feet rustles, clinging. I turn deeper into the dark trees, and the guy still stands there and looks at me. Where did he come from? Is it possible that someone sent by the Fox wants to check me out? Then I should stay away. But the guy is right, even though he knows nothing about me. What else can I do?

I lay there all night with my head up. Highlights move on the walls of the tent and some vague shadows appear. The camp life is not easy. While we were in the houses, not everything went smoothly either. But here it is unsettling. You are never alone; somebody all the time is keeping an eye on you. You can't hide. And if our camp has already been found and they decide to attack at night, they will kill everyone. The whole life is in constant fear. I thought I got used to it. I turn over from side to side and listen. All the sounds seem to be strange to me. The mind is inflamed, irritated by feelings. It's overreacting to everything now. I don't like these woods. I may not know much about the Islands, but I've heard that there are scary creatures here. I close my eyes. It feels like the world is swaying. I hear the drops begin to hit the tent, one at first, and then dozens, and the trickles run down. I’m about to fall asleep, but thoughts don’t let go. I'll have to leave early tomorrow because of this weather. If only it would be quiet by morning. I don't want to get wet from head to toe. For some reason, of all the troubles, this is the only one that bothers me. People may be digging a hole for me and I'm worried about the rain. But I'm tired of thinking about other things. I'll take my rifle with me, and then come what may come.

Drops clatter… A little quieter, but the storm does not calm down. And it hits the leaves of the trees; you'll see all the fires will be extinguished. Tomorrow the camp will be filled with mud. They can see my tracks, too... that's enough, that's enough with me. Strange, it turns out, I still want to live. I'm still hoping for something. Probably, you can never break it in a person. Why the dream is not…

The first bird screams somewhere. In the morning, drops hang on the needles of fir trees. I brush my shoulder against them as I pass. Everything is silver, and the air is damp. There is no sun yet, but it is already light, and the sky is as smoky as all the days before. How can you tell when it's dawn? A rifle is slung over my shoulder. It keeps hitting my back and I pull it closer to me. A little out of the woods, and on a hillock you can see the house. It is an old, low house that goes into the ground. I am about to get up to it.

“Your sister came to us before she disappeared”.

I turn around. All the way I thought I was being followed by someone from the camp. I thought the Fox was watching. But no, it is the same guy. His eyes are as light as the sky, but his gaze is heavy. And everything about him is so... right. He's not one of the squads, he's local. Too used to everything. He doesn't carry a weapon. And while we were standing on the Islands, one thought each of the camp learned well: a man without a weapon here is more dangerous than ten to the teeth stuffed.

“Why would she need you?" — I say 'you' and I wonder who they are. My sister didn't trust people easily.

“She had to hide something. Something your chief needs so much, that he has thrown all his forces to that place. But he can't find it without your sister”.

So, she went to the teachers, those who govern the Islands. She is a smart girl.

“The Fox, like everyone else in the camp, thinks she's dead”.

“The Fox is more afraid of your sister than of fire. And he'll never forgive you for saving her, do you hear? He prays that she is dead, even though he doesn't believe in any of the gods above. Only he'd already found out that she'd cut him off. He needs you because he knows your sister will come back for you. And without her, the Fox will get nothing”.

“Why do you have such bold thoughts?”

“Those are observations from afar. To make sure, we need you. Your chief is building a permanent camp, decided to lay low here. And soon he'll be looking for your sister. He's desperate. We need to know what actions he is preparing before he covers the whole earth from the South to the North Sea with blood.

“The words are beautiful. But — I look back to where the water runs, further down, among the tall grasses — why would I do that?”

“Your sister still needs you”.

“No, the dead don't need anyone," — I say, not looking at the guy.

"Then help the once who is alive".

All of them, these teachers, are like that. They believe everything is fine. Beautiful phrases are selected. They think high and talk about high. But they don't know life as I have seen it. As if they exist in their own fairy tales. My sister believed them, but I did not…

“I have no one left alive”.

“It just seems to be that way. There is always something to lose and someone to lose”.

I think, closing my eyes. The river is still noisy.

“You want to make a spy out of me?"

“Yes, until you jumped off the cliff."

How desperate I was. But the guy is right, something is wrong with the Fox lately. Not from a good life, he went into the woods and climbed on the enemies. If he knows something, I should know it.

Slowly, slowly, but no matter how solid it seems, this house of wolves will fall brick by brick. The walls will start to crumble until everyone is buried under the rubble. I'll wait for it. I'll do anything to spite everyone, but I'll survive.

Dawn glowed over the mountain, like my sister's eyes once did.