“i will let you and will stay on the pearl and live the pirate life for as long as you like, if you will agree to delay your marriage to will for one year.”
elizabeth’s lips parted, and she told herself it was with surprise, and not anticipation.
“why?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.
“you know why.”
“say it, or you’ll get nothing from me,” she snapped, more annoyed by her own interest than jack’s brazen demands.
jack pursed his lips, an infuriating smirk pulling at the corner of them. “as you like. i wish the chance to woo you, lizzy.” he neared closer once more, the click of his boot heels upon the decking beating in time to her thundering heart.
As the heir for the biggest enterprise in Korea with a mouth-watering amount of money that would come to your inheritance came some dangers. And so your father grew to worry about your safety and insisted on protection. And his solution had been bodyguards. Bodyguards that were contractually required to stay by your side every waking hour of the day.
It’s bustling now, with the Vanguard rallying more Guardians,
with communications active and transmat links up, the tent city growing beyond
the landing field. She’d had to wrestle that area back from the Guardians
today, for shipments of scavenged supplies. They’d turned the place into a rudimentary
football field, crafted goalposts from scrap and rigged tripwires and flares to
go off when goals were scored. Not only was it a hazard, with the nearest Cabal
base already within too many miles for Suraya to feel completely comfortable,
but it was in the way of important things. Like landing the stockpiles the
Guardians were retrieving from the Fallen for them.
She’s trying not to be frustrated, they were pulling long
days in the wild and could use the break, but she wished they had pastimes that
did not get in the way.
So I’ve decided to start compiling my party’s adventures into a collection of book chapters, mainly for the ease of me recalling information and their history, but also because so many of you seemed to like my hastily written “Cthulhu vs Airship” scenario. So, just like before, this will likely be a long post, as I’ll be writing a chapter or so at a time when the urge hits me to do so. So for those that stick with it, I hope you enjoy it!
Chapter 1: Deliveries.
+++ On board The Lightskipper, Western Elera +++
A thunderous boom roused Cie from her hammock below deck. Clambering out awkwardly, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and glanced out the porthole window. Waves lapped at the hull, spraying fine sea mist that blurred the view of her surroundings. Looking away from the window, she stretched; instinctively checking above her bunk for the bolt rifle while feeling around underneath her for boots and a clean change of clothes.
Cie Faith hadn’t been with this group long, nor had she really spent much time out in the world herself. Looking around at the cold, metal interior of her room, she began to wonder why she bothered in the first place. They’d taken this job as easy money. Most of the time, working for the Eleran government was, especially with the cold war between it and the southern continent of Arella. And whilst she knew that Eleran military vessels weren’t the most accommodating of ships, she’d at least expected a light in the small, six foot square she’d been assigned to. She wiped the condensation from the window and let the natural light fill the room, coating the rusted tiles on the floor and bathing the empty, grey walls with some semblance of warmth.
Combing out the morning lugs in her white hair and letting it fall naturally to sit just above her shoulders, she zipped up the grey flight jacket and jammed her feet unceremoniously into a pair of battered leather boots. A low, confused voice rumbled from the room opposite, the language clear and concise, even through the closed metal door:
“Cie! Are you awake? What was that sound? Should I, er, be getting up?”
Cie sighed, shouldering the bolt rifle and hooking a pouch full of mystical ingredients to her belt.
“Probably just a training exercise Carbo! Nothing to worry about. We’ve been on this floating bucket for at least three days already. I would’ve thought you’d be used to them by now to be honest.”
Her words were met with a muttered, resonate grumbling before another loud boom rocked the cabin a little more than usual, drowning out his retort. Glancing out at the waters reflection, she spotted a glint of gunfire, followed by telltale blinding flashes of magical energy. Without skipping a beat, she checked her gear one last time, grabbed the worn, metallic flight goggles hanging on the door frame and wrenched the hatch open.
+++ The Empty Expanse. ½ Mile West from The Lightskipper. +++
“Nice shot Aurora! Keep focusing fire on the bridge!”
Thunders engines screamed as Vincent slammed the throttle open, banking the old D-Grade aircraft into a sharp, declining tailspin as the flak cannons from the gigantic C-Grade slave ship opened up in response to the group’s harrying attacks. Dipping low beneath the exploding shrapnel, Vincent pulled up, the cowling ripping off in a shower of sparks as Thunder skimmed the surface of the ocean and began to bank upward. For any normal pilot, the move would have been suicide, but Vincent Mcgraw was far from normal. Continuing his upward thrust, he took careful aim and squeezed the trigger for the quintuple auto-cannons mounted along the crafts dual wings. In a roar of deafening fury the barrels opened up, tearing a deep gash in the underbelly of the vast airship above. The metal groaned, holding for a brief moment before bleeding ammunition, fuel and stolen cargo into the churning waves thousands of feet below. Seeing her opportunity, Songbird streaked towards the cut; the normally quiet, shy pixie at its controls shouting in excitement as she unleashed a torrent of magical missiles directly into the open wound. Fiery eruptions filled the sky as the falling ammunition began cooking off under the intense magical fire, sending a ripple of explosions bursting across the airship’s deck, followed shortly by the delighted cries of Aurora, as she tore a neat, molten hole through the C-Grades inner levels, unfurling Songbirds mechanical wings to regain control of the bucking aircraft on her exit.
“Easy! That thing’s still got teeth!” Nomad shouted over the din, turning sharply to avoid another D-Grade craft, much like his own, that hurtled towards the large aircraft carrier below, sporting defaced markings of the Eleran Military. He banked around, taking his time through the advanced marksmen sights and sonar equipment hooked up on the interior of the cramped vessel to find his target. Barrelling out of sights of a turret shifting in his direction, he felt the judder of the rotary cannon beneath him light up, bisecting a group of slavers on the deck and sending the others running for cover before pulling away and preparing another strafing run. Looking below him, Vincent saw the falling D-Grade impact the ships surface, erupting into a fireball before scattering debris across its deck. They might have been slavers, but by the look of their tactics, it didn’t look like their enemies wanted them captured. Another aircraft tumbled past, it’s wings stripped and it’s cockpit filled with makeshift explosives as Vincent fought to keep Thunder away from the turret mounted flak cannons still operational on the burning, metal dirigible. He reached over with a single gloved hand and flipped a switch on his console, feeling the mechanical click of the triggers realigning to their new weapon systems. Banking down toward the plummeting home-made missile, he pulled the trigger, showering the back end of it in a flurry of explosive shrapnel rounds from the twin miniature flak cannons he’d had installed. The missile detonated in a fiery conflagration before depositing its debris harmlessly into the ocean below. With a grin, Vincent released the throttle, giving his old friend a brief respite before jamming it open and sending her screeching back into the fray.
+++ On board The Lightskipper, Western Elera +++
“What in hell is going on out here?” Shouted an irritated Cie as she stormed toward the upper deck of the repurposed aircraft carrier The Lightskipper.
“I thought we weren’t expecting any heavy resistance on this job?”
She began to push open the hatch to the upper levels as the clanging of metal on metal preceded Carbos arrival. Clad in his typical reddish robes and steel plates, the construct was a stark contrast to the very human Cie, clad in her leather armour and duster jacket. He held at his side a heavy, menacing looking greataxe, and his expression was one of concern and confusion, difficult to read as it was. His form was lithe and thin, constructed from metallic fibres that weaved into each other like muscle, and his face was a blank slate, devoid of any features, eyes or mouth. As he spoke, his voice, though resonating and deep, was soft and calm, like that of an older gentlemen, though the sounds themselves appeared to resonate from the metal itself, rather than a single source.
“I’m not entirely sure. I suppose I expected something, considering they wanted us to escort them, but I didn’t expect much more than a few rogue Freerider fighters, or something similar.” He braced himself as the ship lurched again. “This certainly feels a little heavier hitting, however.”
Cie looked back to Carbo and continued to force the heavy hatch open. She grown to like the strange mechanical man over the past six months they’d worked together, finding his quick reflexes and underestimated strength very useful on many occasions, though his rash and often unpredictable tendencies did lead her to give him a wide berth during combat scenarios. A single, almost skeletal hand placed itself on the hatch and, with the metal squealing in protest, Carbo pushed the hatch open.
“Thank you Carbo. I’m surprised this carrier is still sea-worthy”. Cie smiled before continuing up the steps to the hanger.
“I hope Vorfen is airborne.” She said, her heels clanging on the metal deck as she strode across to check on Echo. The small, E-Grade one man craft sat tethered in the corner of the hanger; it’s mechanical bat-like wings folded down by its side and the magical lodestone engine bathing the interior in an arcane glow. She staggered slightly as the ship shuddered from another impact, lighter this time. Catching herself and glancing out the open bay doors of the hanger, she saw a shower of flaming debris crash into the ocean, a good six hundred or so feet away as Thunder caught the water briefly in the wake of the explosion before accelerating rapidly up and out of sight again.
“I’m sure he will be. It takes some time for that ship of his to get airborne, but once it’s up there, I’m sure the fight will tip in our favor.” Carbo replied, striding past Cie to check on Alloy, his own D-Grade aircraft. The fighter was a standard Eleran design, with a single Skytrol engine working its way through most of the interior of the craft, ending in a large, angular propeller that rolled lazily back and forth with the rocking of the ship. He climbed expertly atop the grey wings and began clearing some debris that had landed on the window of the cockpit.
“Though I certainly think we need to really be thinking about ourselves first.”
Expecting a response, but receiving only the sounds of gunfire in the distance and echoing clangs of debris hitting the ship, he turned, looking to the direction of Echo before quickly diving off Alloys wing, moments before the small, silent aircraft unfurled its wings and darted out of the hanger, leaving a trail of translucent, arcane vapor in it’s wake.
“Right. Well then, I..er..” He muttered, pulling himself up and looking around for any sign of life, but finding none. The Lightskipper had nothing but a skeleton crew to begin with, and, with the sounds of gunfights beginning to rage across the ships main deck, it explained why no crewmen were around to assist them. Carbo looked across Alloy sheepishly for a moment, spotting figures running across the hanger towards him. As he raised a hand in greeting, it was met with a hail of machine gun fire; the bullets clanging off Alloy’s hull and whizzing across Carbos head with malicious excitement. He stumbled over a loose toolbox and collapsed into cover, his greataxe sliding out of its sheath as he did so. Staying his hand and placing the shouts between the four men taking up flanking positions nearby, the ringing across the hanger petered out as each found themselves devoid of ammunition. The lead gunman, a man thick with muscle and clad in multi-plated leather armour stepped forward, dropping the empty firearm to the ground with a resounding clatter.
“Right-o boys! They ain’t gettin’ no more birds of the ground now! This ship is ours!” He grinned, hopping over a set of crates and walking over to the battered D-Grade, turning to his men with arms outstretched.
“And this ‘ere will make a fine addition to our arsen’l. Get ready to break her down for parts lads!”
The three men, all clad in the similar, bulky armour, began walking over towards Alloy, laughing among themselves and reloading their weapons as they went. Suddenly, a gutteral, wet retching caught their ears, as their laughter was swiftly replaced by shouts of panic.
Stepping over the twitching, bisected body of their captain, Carbo shouldered the bloodied greataxe and moved toward the group, who were hastily bringing their weapons to bear. As a shot rang out across the hanger, narrowly missing the lithe, black construct, Carbo let the blade of the greataxe clang on the metallic floor, emitting a shower of sparks as he dragged it very quickly toward them.
“Now that was just rude.”
+++ The Empty Expanse. 1000ft West from The Lightskipper. +++
Vorfen wasn’t a talkative fellow. Rarely did he find time or reason to speak more than a few words, choosing instead to let his C-Grade airship, or dear friend Aurora, do the talking for him. He felt his mechanical joints whine as he turned towards the window of his bridge, looking out at the distant aerial battle above the waters. A mountain of a construct, Vorfen stood a good eight feet tall, clad in a broad steel dome that stretched upwards into deep pauldrons, held aloft by huge mechanical greaves connected via rigid support joints. Within the domed armour sat a spherical head, visible only from the cool blue glow of the sensors shaping its rectangular eyes and supported by a myriad of internal wiring. Heavy plated gauntlets slammed down on the vast array of controls at his disposal, pulling levers and spinning the helm with a veteran experience. As the metal plating groaned and tools rattled across the floor, the vast ironclad banked sharply, pulling the enemy slave ship into its crosshairs. Brick was far from agile, and by the time Vorfen had lined up the cannon batteries, the enemy was already bleeding fuel profusely; its deck littered with explosions and defensive flak clouds from his comrades. From below, a familiar D-Grade twisted sharply in the air, narrowly missing a collision with falling debris, before levelling out and refocusing its autocannons onto the now exposed engine systems of their prey, sending out another small ripple of impacts across its surface.
Checking the range dials and altitude meters, Vorfen reached across towards another section of the industrial console, clamping a heavy hand down on a square switch as his eye displays flicked from a relaxed blue to a combat red. Allowing the enemy to drift slowly between his bridge mounted iron sights and the turret mounted crosshairs, the large construct slammed down on the firing sequence, sending a volley of shells howling across the open sky, meeting their target as a vicious cannonade that tore into its starboard hull like paper. Rolling the helm to bring Bricks portside to bear, Vorfen pulled the reloader and began rotating the huge turrets to point at the deep lacerations his craft had inflicted. His bridge rattled with small arms fire as enemy crewmen began retaliating in kind with machine gun fire, taking cover behind the rented armour. Confident the reinforced windows would withstand the barrage, he continued checking dials, ensuring that Brick matched the speed and descent of its mark. His hand hovering over the firing switch, a resonating, ethereal howl echoed across the sky, staying his hand for a brief moment as a dark silhouette raced across Bricks starboard bow. Unleashing a single, intense bolt of eldritch energy into the gutted C-Grade, the esoteric bat-like shape of Echo streaked across its deck, briefly illuminated by the eerie detonation left in its wake before extending its wings outwards and vanishing into the clouds. Seizing the opportunity, Vorfen unleashed another fusilade, tearing into it like lions to a fresh carcass. Support beams, already weakened under the intense arcane heat, shattered; showering the unfortunate and beleaguered slavers with searing metal before the deck below them gave way. As the once vast, looming shape of the C-Grade slave ship disintegrated into fragments of burning debris, it slammed into the treacherous, writhing waters below, rapidly sinking from sight as the ocean consumed it.
His eye lights flicking back to a calming blue, Vorfen turned the helm, feeling Brick’s bulk below him shift as the large, once stolen, pirate airship made its way back to The Lightskipper, its newfound purpose under the hands of the protective construct at its bridge already showing promise. Glancing out the window, Aurora dipped Songbirds wings, giving him a hearty wave before beginning her descent towards the battered aircraft carrier they had been tasked to defend. Over the crackling communication radio, Vorfen heard Cie coming back into range. “Well, at least we can say we earned our keep. Maybe now they’ll consider upgrading us to something other than a metal tin to sleep in.” A hearty chuckle left the metallic figure as he laughed to himself. “Yes Cie. I Agree.” Vorfens voice was calm and direct, opting to speak as clear as only a construct could. Over the radio, a confused voice joined the conversation, crackling and distorted with static as the communications device attempted to transmit the deep resonation of Carbos voice correctly. “Did we win?” “Yep, that ship never stood a chance. Certainly something bigger than we expected on this run though.” Vincent replied, the wind whipping at his words as he came in to land.
“Ah, very good. I..er, better put these locks back on then shouldn’t I?”
“Carbo, did you get stuck trying to unhook Alloy again?”
The radio retained an awkward silence for a few moments as Thunder scraped across the top deck of The Lightskipper, narrowly missing a few large sections of debris covering the airstrip. Vincent let the old craft whine down slowly, waiting a few moments before placing his gloved hands on the cooling fuselage in order to lift himself out of the cockpit. Pulling off his flight goggles and facemask, he ran a hand through his dark hair before rolling his shoulders and producing a hip flask from his side. Taking a swig, he looked around, checking the horizon for any other threats, before spotting the dark form of Echo banking sharply into the battered hanger beneath him. A tough, rugged, middle aged man, Vincent was the most experienced pilot the group had. And in the age of elves, dwarves and other magical races, few could compete with Vincent’s natural human talents in the sky. He breathed in the stark, Skytrol filled air, the fumes of the recent conflict lingering on the winds. He checked Thunder’s Skytrol fuel tank, and opened up the radio. “Cie, Thunder’s running on empty. Any ideas how long this trip’s got left?” “Probably only another day Vincent. We should be able to get a resupply once we reach the mainland.” Cie replied, her voice echoing across the radio from the lower hanger. “Right, well the sooner the better really. She doesn’t run on magic like yours does.” Vincent hooked the radio to his belt and walked over to Brick, the boarding ramp thudding down onto the deck and a couple of crewmen already running to hook up the mooring lines. “You did good out there Vorfen. How are you looking on fuel and ammunition?” Vincent asked, as the hefty construct trudged down the ramp. Vorfen regarded Vincent for a moment, nodding towards him in greeting before replying. “I Have Around Five Days Of Continual Flight Time Available.” He gestured to the turrets mounted on Bricks deck. “My Ammunition Count Is Approximately Five-Hundred and Forty Seven Rounds of Flak Ammunition And Fifty Rounds Of Cannon Shells” he continued monotonously. Vincent nodded. “Should be enough to get us to the Saybrcg Ports for refuelling, at least.” The construct acknowledged his response and gestured toward the steel hatch leading to the interior of the ship, allowing the fighter pilot to descend the steps towards the mess hall first.
+++ The Lightskipper Mess Hall, 18:00 hours. +++
Cie poured herself another drink and stubbed out a cigarette on the table. It had been a few hours since the attack, and things were only now getting back to normal. Looking around, she could tell that the men were still on edge. “I can’t wait to get off this thing and back onto dry land” she sighed to Aurora. The shy, 2 feet high pixie sat on the edge of the table and looked at her quietly, her mouth half full with a collection of berries and seeds. She swallowed and dusted a few crumbs off her bright, spring coloured, corseted dress, smiling at Cie. Adjusting the tiny pair of goggles strapped atop her frizzy, plaited brown hair and fiddling with her small gemstone earrings, she reached into a tiny leather pouch at her side and pulled out a small green leaf. -+- Don’t Worry! -+- A small, meek voice whispered in Cie’s mind. -+- We’ll be back soon! -+-
Aurora spread her wings, fluttering into flight as she drifted over to land on Cie’s shoulder, offering her a handful of berries. “She’s right Cie. We’ll not be long, now, I’m sure” Carbo leaned across the wooden table and placing a bet in the pool of counters between the rest of the group, before checking his cards. Vincent checked his bet, raising it by a couple more counters. “Yeah, I’m with Cie though. This bites. Even with what we’re being paid. Talking about that, who do we see about getting paid?” Vincent asked, looking toward Nomad quizzically. Nomad shrugged as he considered the question, his features covered, as always, by the modified gas mask he wore, and light, studded leather armour that adorned his athletic build. Placing a dexterous hand on the table, he flipped over his cards, revealing a full house. “About a couple of hundred each, if I remember right.” His voice was muffled slightly, but his preoccupation was clear. “I think it might be another hundred for me though eh?” He chuckled as he reached over to pull in the tokens, much to Vorfen’s distaste. Nomad didn’t remember much, having suffered a severe case of amnesia after head trauma from a previous mission, long before he met the group. His ranger senses were still naturally attuned to his surroundings, however, and it was with this particular talent that he proved his usefulness to the group, especially in wild, unexplored territories. When asked his name, Nomad realised he couldn’t remember, and simply adopted the name painted alongside his craft, as a staunch reminder of his continual journey to rediscover his past. “Well whatever it is, it’s not enough. Not for these crappy conditions” Cie grumbled, taking a plate of simplistic looking foodstuffs offered from Carbo. “And I don’t know why you insist on eating with us Carbo, you don’t have a mouth.” Carbo shrugged apologetically. “It’s just nice to have the company I suppose.” Cie smiled, nodding in agreement before going back to navigating whatever food had found its way onto the plate. -+- Do you think we’ll get to see more of Saybrcg while we are here? -+- Aurora asked mentally, her fey magic allowing her to speak in silence. Vincent dealt another set of cards from the deck and threw in a few coins. “Probably. Odds are unless the I.N.C want to bring us up for a mission again like this one, we’ll be on our own for a bit.” He thought back to the first meeting he’d had with the Imperialist National Coalition. The governmental body on Elera wasn’t the most straightforward, and was certainly more militarized that he’d have liked. Everybody on the vast planet of Eressi knew that the northern continent had the biggest guns, but it didn’t stop the I.N.C from flaunting that at every opportunity. But saying that, they did pay well. And the jobs were simple. SImpler than the jobs he used to have to run back in the Arellan military. Though he was sure to keep any mention of the United Colonial Confederation out of his mercenary application. Especially with the cold war tensions slowly escalating between the U.C.C and I.N.C.
-+- I’m sure we’ll be able to find work in Saybrcg. No doubt someone will be interested in protection from the roaming sky pirates if they go east, at the very least. -+- Aurora mimed shooting down an enemy aircraft and giggled to herself. “That’s all well and good Aurora, but it would certainly be nice to have something that pays well for once.” Cie replied, polishing off the mess on the plate, and handing it to Vincent. Putting it on top of his own, he flipped his cards, showing an ace and a king. Hearing the groan from Carbo, he smiled in satisfaction as he finished the royal flush, earning back a good portion of his loss. “Well, I’m sure something’ll come up. Might just be a bit of basic work, but if it keeps us heading to Blebuff then it’ll do.” Cie stretched, standing up and looping her bolt rifle over her shoulder. “Yeah, I suppose so. I’m gonna get some sleep, anyway. If we head into port tomorrow I’d like to be ready to head out for the airfields as soon as I know we aren’t needed anymore.” The group nodded in agreement, and continued finishing up their card game. With Aurora in tow, Cie headed out of the mess hall, taking a left and heading down the steel stairwell to their separate cabins, eager to get some rest.
Yes, wearing high heels makes your legs look better and your ass look amazing, but I still couldn’t help but worry that they were making me more vulnerable at the same time. My ass and my boobs were not just more prominently displayed; it was almost as though the only way I could balance at all was to thrust them out to the world. And what if I wanted to run? Forget about it. If I could have maneuvered even a light trot in my heels before plunging to the deck , the pain of trying to run in such unnatural and uncomfortable footwear would have laid me up for weeks. For yes, [dressing as a woman] really made me feel that women have been coerced into a way of presenting themselves that is basically a form of bondage. Their shoes, their skirts, even their nails seem designed to stop them from being able to escape whilst at the same time drawing attention to their sexual and secondary sexual characteristics. And I think that has happened so that men feel they can ogle them and protect them in equal measure.
Alan Cumming, Not My Father’s Son: A Memoir, aka proof of why all men need to cross dress for humanity to succeed
So, I sat down to write a sweet, little fluffy piece in keeping with the theme of @csjanuaryjoy. Somehow (as is always the case when I try to write fluff), I ended up with this monstrosity of an exploration of grief and death. So be warned, this whole thing revolves around character death. But before you accuse of getting too far from the theme, I’ll just say it’s always darkest before the dawn…and joy comes with the morning. As always, you can find this on ff.net (I’ll work on getting that collection on Ao3 eventually, I promise). Thank you to everyone involved in putting this together. @icecubelotr44
Word count: 8.9k
It happens exactly as she said it would.
A dark night. A hooded figure—a dark sorcerer Killian hadn’t
heard of until Jasmine spoke his name. The flash of streetlights on metal. The
crunch of sword piercing flesh.
He remembers rushing forward. He remembers knowing it was
too late before Emma’s body hit the ground. He remembers a hoarse shout beside
him—hoarse, young—and the scrape of pavement under his boots, the brush of fine
wool under his fingers. He remembers tackling Henry to the ground, shielding
him from the heat of the sorcerer’s flames and the sight of his mother’s
Jafar leaves them nothing more than ashes to bury.
“Sounds like your rescue party is coming.” Raina reached for her chainsword, head turned toward the sound of gunshots. She lets out a sigh after a moment briefly running fingers through her short crop of hair.
“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to call a truce. I’m more useful on your side, at least on the way out of here. I don’t think you or your reinforcements want to be caught in here.” She decided against her chainsword and instead released her bolter gripping it in both hands.
That was an unusual question. Most mortals turned and ran when they saw him. Or found themselves reduced to blathering, terror-filled meat puppets wading in puddles of their own excrement. The trophies on his armor, the horns on his helm, and the motifs on his weapons left little doubt as to where allegiances lay, and it was not with the masters of this orbital station.
“If you must,” Arbusk said, stepping by her and up to the door. “Just do not get in the way.” He punched through the control panel, sending sparks flying in all directions, and ripped out the wires and electrical guts that powered the door’s locking systems. It died with a pathetic wheeze. Arbusk dug his heels into the deck, grabbed the emergency released lever, and began to push.
There they were, stepping out of a ‘Crazy Dan’s Taxi’, right in front of that little sushi restaurant Zelma had suggested, the poor little one-eyed girl flush with excitement.
She had gotten herself all dolled up for the thing, a tight black dress, a single string of pearls, hair up in a loose bun, heels high, fluttering, singular eye decked out with many a false eyelash… Essentially treating it like a first date, whilst her bird-god friend was left confused as to what was going on.
Boreas must have just thought it was a formality, because he was a god, and that she was treating him to dinner because she was too lazy to cook. How sad… but that girl moved fast with her relationships… obviously too speedy for the bird - or anyone for that matter, to catch up with.
“So… here we are!” She would hum, taking his hand in a soft grip, and leading him to the restaurant and beaming the whole way. Across the sidewalk.
“I assumed you might like it here cause they serve really simple stuff ingredient wise and it wouldn’t overwhelm your palette.. I don’t know what you usually eat of course, but things around the town tend to be really flavorful so this is a good place for something light.” She chuckled, walking through the door of the restaurant, a general soft murmur through the establishment, as it wasn’t much of a place to get rowdy.
She acquired them a table, and sat down across from the bird, keeping that nervous smile on as she searched the menu. “If you want any help ordering let me know..! That is, assuming you’ve ordered food before..”
vaguely inspired by prompt 4 on this list, about a relationship pact - if we’re both still single when we’re ____ we’ll get together. jon x sansa, modern au
The light out on the porch is dim, lit only by the house’s windows bleeding out into the dusk. Jon picks at the label of his beer and kicks his heels against the decking, making the ancient swing chair groan in protest and rock him gently back and forth.
A shaft of light falls over him as the door opens and the muffled music swells into the evening air a second before the screen door clicks shut again and the figure who’s stepped out crosses over to him.
He can hardly make out her face but it’s the height and the waterfall of hair that gives her away, even before she drops down next to him.
VERY NC-17 | role play, facefucking, spanking, anal play, roughess, hair pulling, dirty talk, etc.
To celebrate 4k followers and hopefully more! 6000 words of smut. It was originally two parts but this one was just getting TOO long so I’m splitting the smut. Sorry for the ending; it seemed like the most natural place to break it up.
It’s been a long time coming, but Lucas finally has his moment, and Riley will never forget it….ever.
“So, where are we headed next?” Riley asked her
best friend, Maya, admiring her new manicure as they walked down the street. They had just spent the last hour or so
getting their nails done. Riley got hers
painted bright purple with silver sparkles, while Maya got hers done jet black
with a gold crackle design overtop.
Maya teased, threading her arm through her friend’s.
“Is it a surprise?” Riley said excitedly. "I love surprises!“
"Something like that.” Maya smirked.
“Yay!” Riley beamed, as they rounded the corner
and headed toward the subway station. It
was late spring, so the weather was warming up.
Riley relished the feel of the warm sun, interrupted every few minutes
by a slight cool breeze that would blow through her hair, which was half pulled
up and hanging in long waves down her back.
The small wind gusts also rustled the flared skirt of the flirty purple
dress that she wore with a black cropped officer jacket and matching black
heels decked out with buckles and rhinestones in a classy, stylish way. Maya helped her pick out the outfit, telling
her she needed to wear something special for a special day. If only Riley could figure out why it was so
special. Much to her dismay, Maya
wouldn’t tell her anything except that she’d find out later. So, she just had to wait and let Maya drag
her around from place to place until “later” came around.
Once in the subway station, they began making their way
toward a particular subway train. Riley
noticed that only one door on the train was closed, while all the others
remained open for passengers to enter and exit freely. The closed one had a sign on it that read:
TEMPORARILY CLOSED FOR
MAINTENANCE. DO NOT ENTER.
Suddenly, Riley noticed that Maya was leading her right toward
the broken door.
“Uh, Maya? I
don’t think we are allowed to use that door.” Riley said.
Maya waved her off.
“It literally says ‘DO NOT ENTER’ and the whole thing
is capitalized…CAPITALIZED, Maya! I’m
pretty sure they mean business.”
“Yes, but you’re missing the fine print underneath that
says 'come on in Riley and Maya. This
train car is all yours!” Maya told her matter-of-factly.
“It doesn’t say that.” Riley said, knowing her friend was just being
silly. "And I rather not get in
trouble. Getting arrested is not the
surprise I had in mind for today.“
"Trust me, Riles.
You are gonna want to go through that door.” Maya assured her.
“Why don’t we just use the one down here…” Riley
trailed off, pulling her friend in the direction of another door.
Breaking her arm from Riley’s hold, Maya walked slowly
backward in the other direction, messing around with the curls at the end of
her long blonde hair as she danced and sang, “I. Can’t.
Hear. You. Ba-da-da-dada-da!” After finishing her little tune, Maya turned
around and dashed off toward the broken door, pried it open, and slipped
“Maya, wait!” Riley called after her. "I can’t run in heels! Maya?!“
Realizing that her friend wasn’t coming back and that she
better go after her, Riley let out a sigh and mumbled, "Oh, boy.”
then started to follow in an awkward trot motion. The whole time Riley made her way to the
train car, she was annoyed yet trying not to laugh. Even though they were 24 years old, it was
times like these that made her feel 14 again with Maya acting rebellious and
getting them into trouble and her trying to be the good girl and get them out
of trouble. She actually missed their
crazy antics. They were few and far
between these days with her living with Lucas and being busy with her nursing
career, while Maya was pretty consumed by her art, Josh, and spending time with
her five year-old sister (a one year anniversary surprise for Shawn and Katy -
to say the least). Riley couldn’t
believe how fast the time had flown by and how far they had all come. Well, maybe they haven’t come that far if this moment was anything to
Eventually, Riley made it to the door, but struggled to open
it. There was only so much she could do
without chipping her nails. After
peeking to make sure there were no security guards around, she balled her hands
into fists and banged on the door.
“Maya? Come on, Maya! Let me in!
Before she could finish, the door rolled open and Riley
stepped inside, letting them close behind her as she stood there confused. Maya was nowhere to be found. The only thing in sight was a trail of red,
white, and pink rose petals leading from her feet to the door across the car
that led to the next car down. Not
knowing what else to do, a curious Riley followed the makeshift pathway and
entered the second car.
When the door opened, Riley couldn’t believe her eyes. She not only found Maya, but her whole
family, including her parents, Lucas’s parents, her grandparents, Uncle Josh,
Uncle Shawn, Katy, their daughter Jonna, Auggie, Farkle, Smackle, and Zay. They dotted the sides of the small space, the
rose petal path flowing between them down to the other end of the car.
“What’s going on?”
She said aloud to the whole group, completely baffled.
“Why don’t you ask him…”
Maya said, nodding her head in the direction of the flowery trail.
After giving her friend a quizzical look, Riley obliged her
friend and took a few more steps down the path.
As she did so, her family and friends shuffled around, revealing a
dapper looking Lucas, dressed in her favorite navy blue button down with his
hair perfectly coiffed, to be sitting in his usual seat at the end, the flowers
leading right to him.
She questioned, coming to stand right in front of him. "What is all this? What’s going on?“
Lucas smiled before responding, "I have something that
I need to say to you…to ask you…and I want everyone we care about to hear
Bells suddenly started to go off in Riley’s head. “Wait
a minute…is he….he couldn’t be…could he?” She thought to
Lucas saw Riley’s eyes bug out for a quick second and
He said sweetly, reaching out and pulling Riley by the hand to sit in
his lap like he has done several times before.
She happily complied, looping one arm around his neck and resting the
other against his chest. He took her
hand in his and pressed her palm over his heart. She could feel it beating rapidly as she
gazed into his bright blue eyes and waited for him to continue.
“Riley Matthews… you are easily the single greatest
thing to ever happen to me. You support
me in everything I do and trust me with your heart and with your life. You always see the best in me, even when I
don’t always see it myself. You make me
want to be a better person, someone worthy enough to be called yours. I love you so much, and I honestly don’t know
what I would do without you… but I don’t plan on ever having to find out
because now that I know how amazing and right it feels having you in my life
and in arms right here, right now, in front of everyone, I am never letting you
Leaving his one arm around her back, Lucas moved his other
one, letting go of Riley’s hand to fish something out of his pocket. While her hand was free, she quickly wiped
away a couple of stray tears that had fallen due to his sweet words.
In a matter of seconds, Lucas removed his hand from his
pocket and held it up between Riley and him, displaying a shiny, elegant, two
karat princess-cut diamond set in a platinum band with little jewels along the
sides. It was breath-taking. Riley couldn’t believe her ears or her eyes
in this moment. It was just all too
much. The tears started all over again
as Lucas went on.
“I love you, Riley.
Will you stay with me and be mine for the rest of our lives? Will you marry me?”
answered after taking a moment to catch her breath, then watched him slip the
ring on her finger. Once he did so, she
grabbed his face between her hands and kissed him like she never kissed him
before, pouring her heart and soul into, showing just how much she loved him,
their friends and family clapping and cheering in delight as they did so.
She pulled away briefly, rested her forehead against his and
whispered, “I love you, too. I love
you so much, Lucas.”
Lucas’s face broke out into an even wider grin and then they
kissed again…and again and again, blissfully happy to be in this moment.
When Riley pulled away after the last kiss, she saw a single
tear sliding down Lucas’s cheek, and wiped it away. She looked deep into his eyes, willing away
the tears in hers, and said, “There are some moments you know you’re gonna
remember forever. This…” She trailed off, gesturing to all their
friends and family surrounding them and everything Lucas set up to make this
moment perfect. "this is definitely
one of them.“ She finished, looking him in the eye again before giving
him another soft kiss then hugging him tightly.
"All right, our turn!” Topanga called out,
speaking for the restless crowd that was eager to personally congratulate the
Riley giggled and finally removed herself from Lucas’s
lap. As soon as she stood, she was
mobbed by the overseers, as was Lucas, both receiving congratulatory hugs and
handshakes. Of course all the ladies
made Riley show off her gorgeous ring.
“Celebratory dinner on us!” Lucas’s mother
After settling on a restaurant that was right around the
corner, the group started to file out of the subway car. Riley was the last to leave, right behind
Lucas. They were walking hand in hand
through the doorway when Riley suddenly paused, jerking her new fiancé to a
He asked, suddenly worried.
“I’m more than okay, Lucas. Way
more.” She smiled, giving his hand a little squeeze.
He agreed, bringing her hand up to his face and placing a kiss on the
top of it.
“I was just wondering…. how did you do all this
exactly?” She asked.
“Let’s just say that I know a guy who knows a
guy.” Lucas said with a wink.
“Ah.” Riley replied.
“So, you really liked my proposal? I mean, the subway idea wasn’t too
“Not at all. It
was completely and totally perfect.”
“Good, that’s what I was going for. I figured since this was the first place we met
and the first place we kissed, it was only right.”
“Huh, I never really thought about it like that, but I
guess the subway is sort of our spot.”
Riley noted, leaning into Lucas and resting her head on his shoulder for
“So it would seem.” Lucas concurred as he brushed
a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“You know, maybe we should just get married here.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Riley hastily rejected
the idea. "But in all
honesty,“ She continued as she turned to face him, threading both her
hands into his. "it doesn’t really
matter where we get married…. as long as I have you waiting for me at the end
of the aisle.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Lucas said, pressing his forehead to hers,
then after second, he gave her yet another kiss. He never got tired of kissing her…ever.
Once they broke apart, Lucas rested his forehead against
hers once more and said, “As much as I am enjoying this, we better get
going. They’re probably wondering where
“You’re probably right.” She sighed.
“To be continued?” Riley asked, quirking a brow.
“For the rest of our lives.” He beamed at her, making her smile just as
Riley couldn’t think of anything to top his sweet words, so
she simply said, “I like the sound of that.”
Lucas said, giving her one of his boyish grins.
“Good.” Riley repeated. "Come on, let’s go eat.“ She added
after a quiet moment of gazing into each other’s eyes.
Together they turned and made their way out of the subway
station and to the restaurant down the street, walking hand in hand, arm in
arm, and heart in heart. Today was the
first day of the rest of their lives together, and they couldn’t be more
excited, especially Lucas. It was a long
time coming, but he had finally had his moment.
Lauren pressed her lips together, spreading out her liquid lipstick before carefully lining her lips with the product once more. She wasn’t sure how her best friend had managed to convince her to go to the club with Camila but she was already receiving text messages from Normani telling her to hurry up. She typed back a quick response and shoved her phone into her black Louis Vuitton clutch before heading out of her house and down to the cab that was waiting for her outside. She knew that she was going to be drinking so there was no point in taking her car, especially since she usually crashed with Normani after a night out on the town. Unless, of course, the other woman had found someone to take home for the evening and vice versa. But she was not planning on taking anyone home— not if Camila was going to be there. The tension between them was already high enough and she didn’t want to cause any problems.
Eventually, the cab pulled up in front of the club and Lauren handed the driver a generous tip. She fished her phone out of the small clutch and sent a quick text to Normani to ask for her location as she entered the club, only to spot her best friend due to the woman standing next to her with the familiar mane of curly blonde hair. Her eyes widened and she took a couple steps into the crowd, hoping the two hadn’t spotted her, but it was too late.
“Lauren!” Normani called out, a devious smirk on her lips.
The green eyed woman stepped forward with a tight lipped smile and pulled her best friend in for a hug, squeezing exceptionally hard before moving on to greet the woman she had been casually dating. “Hey, Jilly.” She said with an almost shy smile. She leaned in to press a quick kiss against the woman’s cheek and lifted her hand to caress the exposed skin along her lower back. “It’s good to see you again. I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Mani called me up and said it was girls night out so I figured I could tag along,” The blonde woman explained while she leaned back against the bar to grab her drink and take a sip through the straw.
“I think Ally is coming too. I’m not sure, though. I texted her,” Normani added with a shrug.
Lauren simply shook her head at her best friend and stepped forward to order herself a drink. She was definitely going to need some alcohol in her system if she wanted to get through the night without going crazy. She didn’t even think the evening was a good idea to begin with but she was never good at saying ‘no’ to Camila and now she was going to have to pay for it. “Camila is on her way,” She grunted, handing the bartender her card so he could start a tab. “You can put everything on me,” She said, motioning to the rest of the girls while he slid her the first drink.
Killian clenches his jaw as he yanks open the door to the
hold and makes his way down.
He’s never appreciated how hard it is to avoid someone on a
ship but he’s been managing it for several days. And he has to admit, the hold of his ship has
never been more organized.
He can’t face her, he can’t see the look of disapproval and
disgust on her lovely features again. It
lances his heart to remember the way she looked at him once she’d figured out
what he’d become. He should have
expected her reaction but he hadn’t.
After David’s and Ruby’s and Dopey’s quick acceptances, it hadn’t
occurred to him that she would react quite so… adversely. It hadn’t occurred to him that once he had
her back, he wouldn’t have her back.