#;;b: melting-snowflakes

[coffinseas]

"You didn't get me any chocolate? Me, your beloved roommate who you'd kill and die for?"

@melting-snowflakes

#;;v: world's sweetest party drug (modern). #;;c: song lan #;;b: melting-snowflakes

[seattlesellie]

⋆˙ ♡ b l u e b e r r y p i e ♡⋆˙

pairing: farm!ellie williams x fem!reader

an: drabble based on a small request but i cannot find it ᥫ᭡

warnings: smut (mdni), daddy kink, housewife kink, slight spit play, dom!ellie, sub!reader

ellie's breath hung in the frigid air, visible puffs of white against the backdrop of the forest. the thick layer of snow muffled her steps as she treaded cautiously, her boots sinking with each weighty stride. she gripped her bow tightly, fingers calloused, the biting wind whipped through the trees. she scanned the landscape with piercing eyes, hoping to spot even the faintest trace of movement. but the forest, remained still, its inhabitants hidden away. ellie's grip tightened on the bow, her resolve strengthening amidst the disappointment. she wouldn't return empty-handed; she wouldn't let her promise slip away like the snowflakes that melted against her heated skin.

the sound of her boots stomping against the floor enter the house before she does. you hear her steps, as she paces on the entryway— right on the porch. she takes a deep breath, opens the door and it creaks. it fucking sucked out there, it was bone chilling cold, she couldn’t find a deer to kill, not even a goddamn rabbit, and it dawns upon her. you had told her you’d wanted a feast, it was nearing on christmas time, and she failed, again. dough filled pastries and pasta is all you two were going to eat for the next two weeks, until the snow starts clearing up and the animal’s crawl out of their sheds.

she doesn’t need to huff, or to even mutter a word, for you to know the state that she’s in. all it takes is that deep sigh, as soon as the door bangs and shuts close behind her. she doesn’t greet you with her usual “look what i got, babe” wiggling her eyebrows— because she knows how much you dislike seeing her hold those animals whilst they’re hanging dead from her hand, their fur disheveled and spotted with blood. all she does is throw the keys on the table, and takes her mud filled boots off of her feet, placing them right besides the door. she crosses her arms over her chest, and watches you intently.

warm, vegetable soup is boiling inside the pot, and besides it, lay two warm bowls of white rice. it’s below forty degrees outside, and yet— your body is impeccably adorned with a milky white, frilly apron. two tiny cream-colored bows are nestled on the sides, right where your waist meets the string. her lips almost curl up to a smile, because no matter how cold it is outside, no matter how glossy her eyes get from the wind, nose red from the snow laying atop it, your home will always be warm— you, will always be warm, and truthfully? that’s all she truly cares about. you grant the soup one last swirl, before turning the flame down, and you give ellie a moment to herself too, before you turn around and greet her. you know she doesn’t like it when you see her upset. a moment passes, and then two, and there’s that deep sigh.

“hey” she murmurs, and her voice is a tad harsh, it has a raspiness to it from the weather outside. you do not respond, nor do you turn around. you signal her to come closer with your hand, and again— there’s that thing her lips do, when they curl up to a smile that she’s trying to hide. she’s not supposed to be smiling, she came home empty handed, but damn you, always making her body form those involuntary reactions. she paces towards you slowly, small steps as her socks meet the wooden floor, and again— it creaks, this place is so damn old.

you take a wooden spoon, give the soup another swirl, and this time, you scoop it out with some warm, liquid deliciousness for her to savor. you can’t help but smile, when she stands besides you with her hand on the countertop and her legs crossed together. “have a taste” you grin, and your voice is warm and saccharine and it makes her forget— that she came back home empty handed. she shuts her eyes for a moment, before blowing on the spoon. you swallow a giggle, as her red-from-the-cold lips form a small puckering movement, and she responds with a huff and a small giggle herself. she can’t help it, and a drop of the soup leaks out of the spoon from the air her nose blows.

she takes it in her mouth, and hums when it hits her tastebuds. “taste’s amazing”; and you know it does, but still, your cheeks heat up at the compliment. “thank you” you reply, and it’s small but it’s sweet. she wants to tell you that you’re fucking adorable, standing here in your apron and cooking her food, but she feels quite shitty, so she doesn’t. “and… made some rice too” you note, gesturing with a finger, poking at one of the bowls. she smiles softly, but its not a real one. she blinks, and breathes deeply. “i’m not really hungry”. ellie looks down, and tugs at the bottom of your dainty apron. you stand there for a while, and it’s a moment of understanding. she stares at the floor, and the corner of her mouth twitches. it’s gnawing at her, and you know it. she feels guilt ridden, and you know that as well. you don’t begin the conversation yourself, tiptoeing around it as if it doesn’t exist. “ellie…” you sigh, breathy— and she immediately turns her face around to the opposite direction. you’re presented with her left, freckles splattered cheek. you caress it with the pad of your thumb, slowly, delicately, her skin still cold, and she winces. her eyebrows furrow, and a small line forms between them. she grabs your hand, places her calloused one on top of it, and peels it off her face. she doesn’t get abrasive, she’s gentle, but she needs it off. she feels too culpable, to deserve your touch. “i feel fucking useless” she puffs, and she doesn’t look you in the eyes when she says it. her eyes are closed, her bottom lip between her teeth. you bring your hand over again, to brush a short hair strand away from her face, and it’s still wet from the rain, or from the snow— you wouldn’t know, it’s coal black outside, it’s only the wind that sneaks itself inside from the tiny hole on the window’s glass, that turns the weather in. you can't help but smile, a soft chuckle escaping from your lips. useless, would be the last thing you could describe ellie as.

“i’m sorry… ellie, you’re being ridiculous”, and this time, she doesn’t push you away, she lets your hand play with the loose strand of hair, twirling it around your finger. she sighs, and lifts her chin up. it quivers slightly, and she rolls her eyes. you notice a certain twinkling glisten in her them, and god— she’s trying to halt the tear threatening to stream down her cheek, and flow like a bantam river. it doesn’t leak out, just finds home on her waterline. before she replies, she shakes her head. “i’m not being ridiculous, you… you fucking do everything for me— you cook for me, and you fucking clean, and…” she stops, and finally, she looks at you. “and i know your fucking back hurts, because you hang the fucking laundry— every day“ she’s rambling, and you’re watching with a soft expression, tilting your head. “every day, you do all of these fucking things, and i’m supposed to provide for you” she points at your chest, and the tear on her waterline finally gives in and takes a drive— lands directly on her top lip.

you’re speechless, doe eyed. you know she’s wrong, but you let her finish. “you… were…” with your finger on her lip, you wipe the tear away. she sighs deeply, and takes your hand in her’s, intertwining her fingers with yours. “you were supposed to bake that… shepherds pie, for christmas. and you were so fucking excited about it, you told dina, and fucking maria and tommy and now—“ she stops, and looks down on the wooden floor. its killing her. “because of me, you can’t” you open your mouth, attempting to sneak a word in, to protest, but she doesn’t let you. she’s stubborn. “because i’m fucking useless” and it stings, but it also… tugs, at your heartstrings, in the warmest, possible way. a tear threatens to erupt from your form as well. throat feeling clogged, you want to coo at her, explain, again— how ridiculous she’s being. how much you love how she cares, this… this is better than a shepherd’s pie, her love is better than everything you’ve ever tasted, you don’t need anything, anything other than her. instead of telling her that, instead of bursting into tears in a declaration of love, you mutter something else. you know that she knows how much you love her— now, you need to be practical, find a solution to the problem she had created.

“blueberry pie”

her eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“blueberry pie?”

you bob your head up and down twice before continuing, and now— it’s getting harder to hide your smile.

“i’ll bake a blueberry pie.” your voice is even sweeter than you had intended for it to come out, dulcet, dripping with honey… and blueberry jam.

she scoffs and adverts her look to the side, before placing her forehead on yours.

“but you were so fucking… excited, about having maria taste your shepherds pie…”

you cut her off, again, and nudge her shoulder. “are you saying… my blueberry pie isn’t as good?”

she rolls her eyes, playfully, you know that’s not what she meant. “everything you cook is fucking delicious…” she takes a deep breath, and the soft smile plastered on her face washes off. she’s grounded with reality, again. “but… i just… feel fucking powerless, like i can’t do shit for you” it’s foolish, really— she had just fixed the doorknob in the upstairs bathroom, built a goddamn patio, all by herself, and… powerless? you about pout, taken back from what she had said.

“powerless?… oh, ellie…”

she sniffles, and she wants to reply, determined to explain, she is powerless, this is all her fault, no fucking shepherds pie, she practically feels like the grinch who stole christmas, but you won’t let her succumb to her own wrath. you plant a kiss, a small, delicate one, right on her cheek. your bottom lip strokes her skin before you pull away, only to form a nest on her the crook of her neck. when you breathe her in, she smells of mud, of leaves, leathery and smokey. you take her in, brush the tip of your nose on her pulse, and you can feel, and almost see— the fine hairs standing up. she shudders, and places a tremor held hand on the small of your back. with one palm on her left shoulder, and the other on her right one, you pull her in. her mouth airs a small noise, almost a whimper but barely a sigh— a mixture of both. it escapes from her throat, and she brushes her thumb on you waist, up and down.

“you are everything…” now, you whisper in her ear, and she shudders. “but powerless” you breathe in, and kiss that one sweet spot behind her ear, you know it’s her favorite. a low grunt escapes her lips, and she squeezes your waist. as you trail soft, gentle as butterflies kisses on the side of her neck, she closes her eyes, and lets you soak her in. your soft chest is pressed against her’s, and she feels that “powerless” feeling depart from her body, like a violent swarm fleeing her chest. “do you know… how much power, you have over me?” your voice is ever so soft, and ever so… submissive. oh, she thinks she knows, but she's not sure.

her hand, maneuvers itself from the small of your back to lay just above your ass, her palm just resting there, caressing the fabric of the soft skirt you donned. with her chin resting on your shoulder, you continue your submission. “do you?” you mewl, and you want her to say yes, to accept it, but she doesn’t. “no” she replies, and truthfully, she only yearns to hear you say it. you plant another kiss on her neck, but this time, it’s an open mouthed one, with your tongue poking out, the soft muscle licking her flesh, making ellie let loose of a long, suppressed groan, to bite her lip as her eyes roll back.

“i think you do know…” and you truly can’t find the words, not when you’re that close, not when you breathe in her scent— not when her hand is on top of your ass, kneading the flesh now, just above the skirt. you whisper, a soft, breathy string of “you know… ellie” and when she takes the soft globe between her fingers, and squeezes, you finally breathe it out, oh god—

“daddy”

the low, throaty groan escapes almost automatically, a knee-jerk reaction, she feels the obscene nickname send a lighting strike between her legs, in her heart, in her brain— this is exactly what she needed to hear. your daddy, the only fucking one who can make you go like this, go this dumb and this needy and this eager to please. a harsh, ringing slap on your ass, still covered by the soft material, follows that very same groan. her other hand moves lower to knead it between her fingers again, clawing at the flesh, marking it as her’s. you mewl it again, “daddy”, and its breathless now, unable to stop, longer and needier— and the ring of the word “fuck”, that she mutters as a response, is bordering on primal.

“yeah?” she voices, raspy and deep, and you know you have clouded her mind now. powerless… who? you hum, when she grabs your tit between her hand, tugs at it and squeezes, twitches the nipple right over your bra, she knows exactly where it is, and exactly how hard to pinch it for her to hear her favorite sound in the whole entire world, that high pitched moan of her name. “let me show you, y—eah?” you stutter, and although it is not even a question, it sounds like you’re begging. “say it again” ellie orders, and although it is phrased as an order, it sounds like she’s begging. “daddy…” you whisper in her ear, kissing and licking her lobe, making her whimper a long, breathy sound of your name.

it is again, primal— how quickly and fervently she peels off the straps of your top, letting the skirt cascade off of your body— and when it comes to the frilly, little apron; “keep it on”, only taking the top part of it off, so your tits can spill out, on full display for ellie. before she takes the soft, silky smooth mounds between her lips— she spits, letting the string of her own saliva stream on the flesh, before it reaches your nipples, teasing her and flowing oh so slowly, before making the tender, now-hard buds glisten with slick. with her forehead on yours, her gaze is fixated upon them. you can feel her heartbeat, growing faster and faster. “fucking christ” she huffs, before smearing her spit on your nipples with the pad of her thumb. you wince and squeal when she flicks them left and right. “so sensitive, s’fucking cute” she coos, before latching her needy mouth onto them, sucking them in, leaving dark, purple marks the harder she sucks. she takes the nipple between her teeth, bites— here’s that fucking squeal of yours again, so she moans, never neglecting the other tit, her fingers toying with the nipple, moving it in small circles so you fucking cunt can feel it. with a loud “ahh” sound, she takes the sensitive bud out of her mouth.

when she looks at you, staring into your eyes, with a look that’s so impatient, and hungry, with a look that says “you’re fucking mine”, and "i fucking own you", you bite your lip so hard it almost draws blood. doe eyed, she takes your chin between her index and her pointer. she doesn’t need to mutter a word, before you’re down on your knees, hitting the floor with a thud. that’s ought to leave a mark. nevertheless, she’d love it, all of it. when she towers over you, with that dark gaze and those burning green eyes, it’s hard not to feel small, and powerless. except, you have all the power in the world. letting her have this, have you, that’s more powerful than it all.

she pats the top of your head, rubs it, and waits for your next move. you place your head on her thigh, and caress it, letting the harsh material of her jeans burn through your cheek. “there she is…” she coos, teasingly so, and places her thumb on your lower lip. she grazes it from side to side, toying with the plush, damp flesh.

“suck”

oh, you do. you suck it so hard you’re almost biting it, your cheeks hollowing, keeping your eyes on her while the obscene noises of her thumb inside of your mouth fill the room, wet and nasty and loud. she stares down, nodding to you, her nods saying “that’s my good girl” but her mouth shut and formed in a tight line, groaning as if you’re sucking on her goddamn cock, making that tickling pain right between her legs, covered by too many layers of fabric, grow more and more distracting. you can feel it too— that sensation, deep in your core. its hard, it's almost impossible, not to begin humping the floor. her pupils grow even larger in size when you start moaning around her thumb, worshipping it, worshipping her. she watches you, her mouth agape, chasing your eyes, and when you close them ever so slightly, she takes a sharp breath. "look at you..." she coos, and you know she means look at how pathetic you are, look at the drool running down your chin, making a mess, all for her. she gives a hum of satisfaction, and takes her thumb out of your mouth.

when you look at her again, you're transfixed, mind foggy with your eyes lazily half shut. she nods her head up and down, because she knows what you yearn to do next. you don't have to say a word, before she yanks the belt off of her pants, in one swift motion, and then— undoes the button, and the zipper as well. ellie throws the belt on the floor, violently so, and it makes your whole body jump with a squeal.

"awh... did i scare you?" she coos, and caresses her hand slowly, from the top of your forehead, running it all along the pillowy skin of your cheeks, to the bottom of your chin. with her index and her pointer, she grabs your chin, and lower's your head over so your eyes fixate on her jean-covered cunt. poor you, you wait for her to take them off. except, she doesn't. with her hand on the back of your head, she pushes you forward, making the tip of your nose graze her heat, and you swear to god himself— you can smell her already, you know that she's soaking, getting off on you sucking her thumb like that, getting off on your absolute submission to her. she has to restrain herself from using you fully, from bumping your head forward and forcing you to get her to cum through her pants, she knows she can— but instead, when she looks right into your eyes, those poor, glassy eyes, she gets down on her knees to face you. her expression softens, and she rubs her thumb on your cheek. you almost purr, tilting your head so you fit perfectly in it.

"you're so good to me..." she whispers, and chuckles softly when she sees the curl of your lip. "so good..." she repeats, and you hum, accepting her praise. she plants a soft, loving kiss on your forehead. "pretty little housewife... always takin' care of me, huh?" you nod, accepting again, although now, it feels as if she's purely speaking to herself. "always" you whisper back, nodding your head softly. "you wanna make me feel good?... hm?" she murmurs, trailing small circles on your cheek, moving her finger downwards lightly, so that it grazes over your sensitive nipple, and again— she toys with the bud, awestruck at how sensitive you get, chuckling when the sweet little squeal escapes your lips again.

"yes..." you reply softly, and it's breathy, the eagerness oh so apparent in your voice.

"f'course you do..."

she gets up from her knees, bit by bit, and leans her back on the fridge. you look up at her, and place your thumbs inside of her jeans. she nod's softly, signaling you that it's time now. take them off.

when you do, you whine.

her grey boxers, perfectly tight on her thighs, have a delicious, wet patch right where the fabric meets her hole. "mhh'ellie..." you whine, and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, inhaling deeply. "you're so wet..." you murmur against her skin, taking in what you did. you're copying her, imitating, she knows that. "all for me...?" you whisper, and then she tsk's. "dont play with me" she breathlessly huffs— but why? it's so much fun, after all.

"are you shy, daddy?" you question, and she feels her cheeks burning a crimson red. "shut up" she murmurs, and it's a half chuckle— half threat.

"you're so cute" you tease, a soft, adorable smile when you speak. "hey... hey—" she takes hold of your chin again.

"quit being a fucking brat, ju— oh... my.... god" in the midst of her sentence, your tongue met her clothed clit. eagerly, you teased it up and down with the tip of your pink muscle, and you felt ellie shaking.

her whole body tenses, as soon as you begin flickering it, taking her button between your teeth, not once daring to break your eye contact. your eyes scream submission, but your movements— scream mine. you flatten your tongue against her slit and her knees almost give in. with a fist on your scalp, her body— involuntarily, slips down slightly off of the fridge, her ass meets the metal with a thud, she's almost squatting.

her mind is clouded with chants of "fucking needed this"

you kiss it, nice and wet. "you like it, daddy?" bold, full on cocky and bratty is what you are. you know you made her desperate so you have the power to dare— and tease her on and on. she doesn't reply, a choked out whine coming from her throat. she mumbles incoherently, something that sounds like "you wait for your fucking turn and then you'll see" before she pulls down her boxers, grabs you by the back of your neck and pushes you in.

"fuuuuu" she chokes out, barely able to continue her words, when your lips wrap around her swollen clit, messily sucking it in. "just like... fuck— just like that..." now, she's purely controlling your motions, grinding on you. you flatten out your tongue with a whimper and incoherently breathe out; "da— ddy". with your voice choked up, mouth swollen and used, she looks down at you, her eyes threatening to close, and yet, she smiles. darkly so, and teasingly. "such a—" she grunts, a "psh" noise escaping her lips, "good— fucking girl..."

you can't help but let your hand wander down your skirt, squeezing and pinching and caressing your thighs like she'd do, teasing yourself all over your panties, rubbing your leaking hole as she fucks herself on top of you. when she notices your little hand circling your clit, she wants to coo, wants to warn you— but she doesn't. she chuckles, "can't fucking help... fuck—" you barely let her finish her sentence again, before you take her clit between your teeth and gnaw at it gently. "s'fucking much— can't even fucking help yourself— can you?" every word that leaves her mouth feels as if it's being held hostage, trying to escape, sounding muffled and choked up.

of course you need to cum when your mouth is on her cunt, of course you need to cum when she's using you like this, it's so obvious, it's so... you, she attempts to be feigned by it, but instead, she laughs. "go on... make yourself cum— g-go on" she stutters, and when she does, you suck harder on the bud than you've ever sucked in your life, with a sweet, high pitched moan. you almost have to physically push your fingers out of your cunt, whining as soon as the feeling of being empty washes over you, and then— you push them deep inside ellie’s tight, warm hole.

she barely has time to response, jolting at the intrusion, muttering a string of curse words under her breath, pulling her head back. "dirty— fuckin'..."

your juices mix with her's, and the sounds that your mouth leaves are obscene, wet and sticky, moaning like you've never tasted anything better in your life— which you probably hadn't. "you gonna cum, daddy?" you probe, breathlessly so, and it's humorous, that brave attitude that washes over you when she's a mess splattered against the fridge, bucking her hips and— cumming. all over your mouth.

you lick it up, suck all of the juices in, from her tight hole and then all over her slit, swallowing every last bit.

before you manage to get up, she lifts you up.

you both stand there for a while, forehead to forehead, not talking, barely breathing on each other.

you blink twice, and then once more.

"powerless?" you quip, silently.

she's breathless, and before she replies, she attacks your neck with sweet, soft kisses.

"you fucking.... you fucking—", she picks you up and you squeal. she pushes you against the counter and she... giggles?

"how did i fucking..." she pecks your lips, and pecks it again, and again, and again— you can't stop laughing, she's tickling you all over and the tears start forming in the corners of your eyes.

"how did get so fucking lucky?" she pecks again, on your cheek now. "huh?" she repeats, and fuck— that smile.

"how did i get so fucking... lucky"

how did she, truly?

"go upstairs and grab it" she orders, but waits for your response. "what?" you speak, in between sweet as honey giggles.

"up... stairs"

"what's upstairs?"

she tilts her head, and smirks.

"what's upst—... oh"

oh.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #wlw smut #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams fanfic

[sister-lucifer]

Apology, With Tears 

Lucifer x Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst/Comfort

Summary: Lucifer comforts you during a hard time, and reminds you that your feelings are always welcome with him

Content/Warnings: Comfort, guilt, angst with happy ending, implied venting (the source of anguish itself isn’t specified, please project whatever issue you may be having onto this fic /srs)

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio! 

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

“I-I’m sorry….” 

Your voice was so small. Shockingly, terrifyingly so. For a moment Lucifer froze, unsure if he had really heard it. The words were as fragile as a single snowflake landing on the bare concrete, ready to break and melt into oblivion at any moment. They were as quiet as the coo of a dove in a raging thunderstorm, and yet they shook Lucifer to his very core. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I’m sorry, Lucifer…” 

There was a small part of him that thought maybe the repetition would bring clarity, but no such luck. Gently he hooked two fingers under your chin, tilting your head up towards him in a slow manner so that you’d have ample opportunity to resist him if you’d like. 

You did not. You allowed him to meet your eyes with his. 

That was the softest you’ve ever seen his gaze. 

The sharp brows that were usually taut with annoyance were furrowed just slightly in such a way that you could tell Lucifer didn’t even know he was doing it. He would never purposely let concern show so obviously, but it seems he was preoccupied with other, more pressing concerns at the moment. 

Something sorrowful in the swirling red of his eyes stabbed into your heart with a pang of guilt. To know you had caused Lucifer—the chronically overworked head of house—such worry brought a heaving sob from you. 

The last of your resilience disappeared like a flame in the wind. The tears flowed freely, and there was no stopping them. They ran fast down your cheeks and fell into your shaking palms and stained your shirt. They were shamefully, burning hot, like liquid fire on your face, but once they fell to your lap you could not feel them. You brought up an arm to cover your eyes, the tears soaking into your sleeve and soon after your skin. 

“I’m…I’m sorry, I—“ 

“Please, please stop saying that, my love….” 

The words are surprising, but even in your shock you can’t bring yourself to look up at Lucifer. 

“Why…” He begins, at a loss for words for the first time since he can remember. 

“…Why do you keep apologizing?” 

You thought you’d have an immediate answer, and yet when you open your mouth no words come. That should be an easy question. You knew why. 

Didn’t you? 

You have to search a bit more before you even think of speaking. 

“I just…I feel bad for…b-being like this—“ 

“Being like what?!” Lucifer interrupts, and now his confusion and desperation is showing through. He’s not raising his voice and yet his words hold a sense of urgency akin to that of a scream for help. He isn’t angry, but he is so overwhelmingly worried. 

“I…I-I shouldn’t…” You have to fish around in the word pool a bit more before pulling out the right ones. “I shouldn’t be…making you deal with this, i-it’s my problem, I can handle it, I…” 

The pause is heavy. Unbearably, crushingly heavy. 

“I shouldn’t be doing this to you…” 

It is in this moment that Lucifer’s black heart shatters into countless pieces. The larger fragments linger in their place, the smaller splinters go flying off in all directions. It is likely that he will never recover all of them. There is no way to when something like this happens. He knows that you have felt the same. You have lost many pieces of your heart along the way here. 

Fortunately, Lucifer has some to spare. 

“You aren’t doing anything to me, my love…” He assures you, taking your hands in his. His grip is loose, encouraging you to follow his movements instead of forcing you. 

“You talk about yourself as if you are some terrible, laborious thing that must be dealt with against all will. I’m not here because I am forced to or because I feel I must, or else. If I thought this wasn’t a serious matter I would have walked out of this room long ago.” 

He’s right. You know he’s right. Living with six unruly little brothers means Lucifer has a very high tolerance for emotional turmoil. You’ve seen him shoo his bickering brothers away or send an injured Mammon off with no more than a ‘good luck’ and a wave of his hand. He knew his brothers could deal with themselves. 

But you? You were not them, but he still knew exactly what you needed.

“You are not some heavy burden forced on my shoulders, I choose to be here. You have nothing to apologize for because I am asking you to seek me out for help.” 

A gloved thumb wipes a tear from your cheek, and for the first time you meet Lucifer’s gaze on your own. His expression is lighter somehow,  brows not pressed quite so tightly together. 

“Hardships cannot be endured alone, that is a fact. They are meant to be shared. So please, no more ‘sorry.’ Apologies are for when you do something wrong…like how a certain twin keeps eating the drywall in the common room…” 

You can’t help but laugh at that. It’s weak, hardly intelligible through your labored breathing, but Lucifer hears it. 

The smile that crosses his lips is merely a ghost, gone in a moment. 

But you see it. 

It comforts you in such a way that it destroys every defensive wall you had been fighting so hard to keep up. Suddenly you’re reaching for him, gripping onto his uniform shirt with aching fingers before pulling him to you. A loud sob echoes through you as you hide your face against his chest, hot tears leaving trails down his button up. 

If you were anyone else in any other scenario, Lucifer would probably be a bit appalled at how you were ruining his freshly ironed uniform. 

And yet, the thought never even crossed his mind.

A tender hand strokes the back of your head, and the other ushers you up into a more comfortable sitting position in his lap. 

He doesn’t shush you, or tell you it’s okay, because it isn’t. But it doesn’t have to be. He knows you will calm yourself in your own time. 

Until then, he is more than content to stay right here. 

#angst #fluff fic #comfort #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me angst #obey me fluff #obey me comfort #lucifer obey me #lucifer x reader #lucifer x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #lucifer fluff #lucifer angst

[ilyuu]

hellooo i just saw your milestone event hehe

could i ask for "Character A laughing against Character B’s lips when they pull away before they go in for another kiss" with kazuha, albedo and tighnari please?

congrats on your milestone bby <3

warnings : suggestive, fluff, kith! kiths all over the place!

albedo.

you taste a sort of sweetness.

he presses his lips against yours and the heat of it melts the cold away. you couldn’t help but notice a touch of yearning to him this time and find yourself smiling into the kiss, a sort of haze clouding your sense of mind.

the cavern is eerily quiet, echoing only the quietest of sounds as chemicals of sorts seethes, the wind itself, shallow huffs for breath of air. it’s when he sees you trembling a bit does he let go.

he feels, sees, the puff of your breath waft across his lips, an inch from yours. you don’t know why, or where it came from, but a surge of joy courses in your veins as you let out all the energy to the air and him (and he finds himself entranced as he is all those other times.) as the snowflakes around the two of you falls onto your skin, melting, he then thinks that he, too, wants to feel your touch, your warmth yet again. his hand cups your cheek, and its heat flows into the palm of his hand, to travel to the nape of your neck, and when you feel his fingers rake your hair, the space the two of you share diminishes.

“let’s try this again, shall we?”

kazuha.

you taste cherries.

you swallow his sound of faint surprise, feeling the softness of his lips against yours and it’s all it took for the two of you to lose another in each other. the sea and its waves seems to fade into the backdrop. he softens underneath your kiss, tilting your head a bit so he could go farther - the lack of air could only do so much.

airy, a bit light-headed, but all is right in the world as you part from him, only to let out a huff when he leans in, following after you. in a haze, his eyes slightly hooded, he stares at the luster of your lips. a soft red stroking his cheeks, as he tries to compose himself. it’s tempting, intoxicating (and cute.) at that last thought, you rest your forehead against his and stay there for a bit, even with the quiet surprise all over his face with the sudden contact.

at his reaction, you chuckle, dripping with adoration and he can tell, if the way his skin reddens all over again. whether you expected it or not, he places a small kiss on your lips - chaste, gentle.

“only you can stir my heart as you do.”

tighnari.

you taste mint.

whispers of the wind stray through the leaves, shivering, as the wildlife all but surrounds you. all of his senses are heightened with every single shift of movement from you, tilt of your head or his, and he finds himself parting a bit before losing himself too deep.

his arms around your waist, he situates himself in your hold. he nestles himself in the nook of your neck, taking in your scent as he breathes in and out, slowly, softly. yet, it further proves to be fruitless as you let out a laugh - his hair is brushing the side of your neck, tickling you, and it takes all you have to at least bite back the feeling bubbling in your chest, breathless, yet in bliss (his ears flutter - he’s still too into the sound of you.)

he closes his eyes and lets the next few minutes go by in silence; so do you, that smile of yours still intact, and he can feel so a mile away.

it’s when he leans back a bit, enough to see you does he press a peck to the corner of your lips. there’s a second of stillness he takes notice of as he feels you warm up, you floundering for your words - all that left you was a soft sound that kept his eyes on you. this time, he huffs, the sound amused, as he closes the distance yet again.

“just one more, alright?”

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin impact drabbles #genshin drabbles #albedo x reader #albedo x you #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #tighnari x reader #tighnari x you #. . . icy kisses.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silver Lining 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, speech impediment, bullying and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: silverfox!Bucky Barnes

Summary: You have an unpleasant encounter with an older man.

Part of the Silverfox AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You turn onto the sidewalk, the world turning white with the snowstorm. Your boots slip, untied and loose on your feet, as you put your head down against the swirling flakes. All sound is dampened by the thick heaps on the ground and the continuous flurry all around.

It takes you a moment to get your bearings. You’re pretty sure you’re going the right way. You should’ve paid more attention on the drive over. There’s a lot of things you should’ve noticed before now.

You slip on a thick patch of snow and catch yourself on one knee. You blink as snow clings to your eyelashes as you peer around. Your ears are whistling but hot with the plummeting temperature and you can barely see the glove on your own hand. If the bus even comes, it won’t be for some while, and it will be at least one transfer to get back to familiar ground.

You squeak in fright as you feel a tug on the back of your coat, then a hand on your arm. You’re hauled back to both feet and turn to face your accoster. Bucky doesn’t wear a coat as his silver hair collects white powder and he squints against the wind.

“H-hey,” you try to pull away.

“It’s bad out. You won’t make it–”

“St-stop!” You holler in a pitchy tone, “I-I-I’m fine.”

“I can’t let you go out into this,” he insists, “look around,” he points to the house nearest but you can’t see much through the wall of white pelting down, “power’s out. Plows won’t be for a while. Come back, just until the roads are cleared.”

“N-no, I’m f-f-fine. I c-c-can take care o-of myself,” you wriggle free of his grasp.

“I know you can,” he puts his hands up as snowflakes melt into the fabric of his shirt, “please, they got travel warnings out. You can’t be out here right now.”

“Why w-w-won’t you l-leave m-me alone? Y-y-you don’t e-e-even l-like me,” you accuse.

He’s quiet, face contorted against the whipping snow, his cheeks tinged slightly with the cold. He shakes his head, “I never said that.”

“Y-you don’t g-gotta.”

“Well,” he grabs your elbow and yanks you around, “I don’t hate you.” He marches you down the walk, your soles slipping, making resistance perilous, “so get inside.”

“W-w-woah,” you stumble as he keeps a brisk pace, his soles mulching into the layers of snow, “s-slow–”

He takes you back down the walk towards his house. The pool of sick you spat up is already hidden. He shoves you ahead of him as you get to the steps and follows you closely, reaching around you, nearly flush to your back, to open the door. He points you inside.

You kick your boots off and clamour in onto the mat. You turn to face him as he snaps the door shut behind him. He combs his fingers into his hair, messing it up to shake off the snow. You ball your fists as you stare at him, dizzy from the suddenness of your return.

“You have no idea, do you?” He sneers. “You go out there without a thought. A storm like this is dangerous, you know?”

“J-j-jeez,” you chatter, “you s-sound like my dad.”

He growls as he rips his boots off, shaking his head, “sounds like a smart man.”

“B-B-Bucky, I would b-be f-f-fine–”

“I made you tea before the power cut,” he interjects, “drink it, wait for the storm to calm. Then you can tell me to fuck off. How about that?”

“I d-d-didn’t–”

“Are you so unused to people giving a shit about you that you can’t accept a single nice thing?” His voice rises, startling you. “I mean, I heard your mother on the phone, I hate to put my nose where it doesn’t belong but Jesus Christ–”

“H-hey,” you murmur meekly, but not loud enough to stop him.

“You’re a smart girl, you just don’t give yourself a chance because you got all these other idiots dumping on you,” he rants at you with his hand in the air, “you shouldn't listen to them. You’re thirty years old, goddamnit, and you wrote a damn good script.”

You blink at him dumbly. He cringes as he seems to remember himself, to recall that he’s a grumpy old man, and that you’re just some irritating bug flying around his head. He lifts his hand to the back of his neck and scratches as you sway and look at the carpet.

“Take your coat off and come get your tea before it gets cold,” he sidles past you, brushing closer than you expect. He stalks off behind you but you’re too nervous to look after him. You hear another raspy hiss, “fuck…”

You put your armful down on the low bench, your movements slow and slightly shaky. You wet your chapped lips with your tongue as you stare at the door. You shrug off your coat and hang it on the rack then leave your boots on the rack.

You turn to face the house and wring your hands. Somehow, he can make hospitality seem like an attack. You hear the gales battering outside the walls as the snow continues to trim the window frames. He’s right, you were just as stupid as ever to go out into that. You’ll never tell him that though.

You slowly traipse down to the kitchen and find him there. He has his elbow on the counter as he leans over a mug and a book. There’s a booklight clipped to the top of the page in the dim of the power outage. Another glow comes from behind him, a candle lit and flickering with the scent of burning wood.

As you approach, he slides a mug towards you without looking up. You thank him in a mousy voice and let the warmth of the porcelain soothe you. You inhale the scent, it’s an interesting flavour but still steaming too hot too taste.

“Gingerbread…” he intones without looking up, “it looked interesting…” he pauses and lets his eyes flick up, “seemed like a you thing.” He reaches to the front of his shirt, unhooking the wire framed glasses there. He wipes them with his sleeve before putting them on and refocusing on his book, “you can tell me if it’s shit.”

You’re silent. You don’t know what to say. You were more than prepared to disappear into the blizzard, but not this. The realisation slowly sinks in. You’re trapped here and not just by his indomitable will.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #silver linings #drabble #series #au #silverfox au #mcu #marvel #captain america #winter soldier

[kiwiana-writes]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the "early" (by which I mean it was the middle of Wednesday for me but well before WIP Wednesday usually kicks off) tag, @getmehighonmagic, and to @suseagull04 for one at a slightly more expected time 🤣

I feel a little mean for sharing this? I am asking y'all to a) trust me; b) trust the process; c) trust that any stylistic quirks or inconsistencies, both within itself and in comparison to the rest of my back catalogue, are part of the process. I guess that's all I'll say for now 👀

There were a great many things Alex did not enjoy about waking up.  There was the act itself, of course; blinking his eyes open only to be momentarily blinded by the sun pouring in through a crack in the curtains no matter how tightly he shut them the night before. There was the way his dreams slipped away from him as he woke, trailing through his memory like snowflakes, impossible to catch for more than a moment before melting into nothing. There was the immediate caffeine craving his body inflicted upon him, despite it having only been eight or so hours since his evening cup of coffee. Seven hours, perhaps. Certainly at least five, most nights. Though worst of all was the way his phone would light up with notifications—no matter how early he set his alarm, politics was a nonstop calling, all day, every day.   Still. Perhaps if Alex had known how few opportunities he would have left to do so, he could have found it in himself to embrace the sensations of returning to consciousness a little more.

Forever feeling feral for whatever y'all are up to, so tags below the cut and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

@affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @celaestis1 @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @cultofsappho @daisymae-12 @dumbpeachjuice @happiness-of-the-pursuit @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @hypnostheory @iboatedhere @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @inexplicablymine @leaves-of-laurelin @lilythesilly @myheartalivewrites @nontoxic-writes @orchidscript @rmd-writes @roseapothecary @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail @smc-27 @sparklepocalypse @ssmtskw @stereopticons @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland 

#wip wednesday #kiwiana-writes #wip: STFAU #I know at some point either someone will figure out what this is or I'll spill #but in the meantime I feel like I'm leaving a really patchy trail of breadcrumbs lmao #my writing mojo is weirdly busted at the moment so I'm just rolling with whatever appears at the ends of my fingers haha

[whoahoney]

The Big Bad Day

Steve Harrington x teacher!Reader

Summary: You’re a new teacher and your year has been hard, this day in particular, and your boyfriend Steve knows just what to say.

Content Warnings: children are dicks, hurt/comfort, mature language

A/N: for all of us that need to cry in Steve’s arms just for a little bit 🤍 requested by my dear @loving-and-dreaming

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You had had enough.

You were no stranger to difficulty or bad days, but this one would go down in the books.

Ever since you got the teaching position at Hawkins Elementary, you’d been optimistic about your days spent with the future of the world, teaching them their order of operations and proper sentence structure, eagerly imagining the books you’d read with the class and what crafts to make to decorate the door for each season and occasion.

But when it came down to it, it felt most days like they saw you as another child. Lessons were filled with thrown pencils, students getting up out of their seats to move around and bother their friends, as if you weren’t there, homework going without being filled out, literal 8 year old boys heckling you during your lectures,

And as if that wasn’t enough, your colleagues seemed no different. You were easily the youngest teacher there and staff meetings and lunch breaks were spent feeling invisible behind your coffee mug, no matter how many thoughts you tried to contribute. They always seemed to silence your words before they could manage their way out of your mouth.

Today, things amped up.

Richie Timmons incited a riot.

A full on riot.

The assignment was making paper snowflakes. You’d given a wonderful tutorial on how to fold and cut the snowflakes, you’d shown them the special glitter glue you’d bought with your own money, and passing out supplies seemed to go well and then they just… ruined it.

Richie decided today he’d crumple up the center pieces for their desk clumps you’d worked so hard on and start a snowball fight, leading everyone to use any and all paper to their disposal.

You’d tried to stop it, everyone throwing them at the quietest kid in the class first, but then their attention turned to you, and not in the way you wanted. Suddenly all the paper wads were smacking you in the face, with impressive aim and power, you noted.

Not to mention the pencils, crayons, and eventually scissors that flew about the room, causing you to lose your cool.

And to top it off, the wicked witch of the west hall shows up to the staff meeting talking about hearing it all from the other side of the school.

This earned you so many dirty looks from your peers, not to mention the principal. Your cheeks heated as you stared into the bread of your sandwich so lovingly prepared by your boyfriend, wanting nothing more than to melt into the floor and disappear.

You wanted to quit.

But what about Sarah H and her cursive? She’s almost got it!

Or Corey B and his separation anxiety from his mom? He’s shown some real courage lately, and another change in his routine could just mess it all up.

You laid in bed that night waiting for your boyfriend to come home to your newly shared place, trying to get the tears out before he showed up.

But they wouldn’t come.

Your body wouldn’t allow it. You felt it, so strongly, the urge and pressure to burst into tears, but the cries were buried deep in your chest, not allowed to erupt for whatever reason. Instead, you curled up on your side of the bed with a massive tension headache.

Right as you thought you might fade into restless sleep, the front door clicked open and your heart leapt.

Steve’s home.

He worked late a couple evenings a week, tonight being one of them. As you heard him drop his keys onto the counter and shrug off his jacket, you weighed the options of talking to him about it all or pretending to be asleep to not bother him.

But then the bedroom door creaked quietly, clicking closed behind him. Steve had mastered the art of walking silently, practically floating across the floor as he whispered hopefully, “Are you awake?” He reached out to touch your shoulder, his fingertips grazing it before you turned over to face him.

Of course he looked this beautiful, he always did. But why did he have to look at you like that? Like you were special, like he longed for you though he already had you.

The sight alone made the dam you spent your whole day building crumble. With your brows knit together and a pout on your lips, his face melted into concern as he scrambled into bed, pulling your pliant body to him and wrapping you up in an embrace.

“Sweet girl, what’s wrong? What happened?” He whispered just above your ear. You felt your hands against his bare chest, the contact soothing you some. His hand found its way into your hair, his fingertips stroking your scalp as you heaved and sobbed. “I got you, it’s okay, I’m here.” He said intermittently.

When you found yourself blurry eyed and stuffy, and your sobs had ceased, you found yourself laying with your head on Steve’s chest. His hand stroked up and down your back while the other kept your hair from falling in your face.

After giving you a few regular breaths of quiet, he wrapped his arms back around you, “Do you wanna talk about it, baby?”

“My dream job sucks.” You sniffled against his warm skin. “And I suck at it.” You whispered.

“What??” Steve craned his neck to look her in the eye.

“No one respects me. Ever! Not even the other teachers. It’s embarrassing, everyone else has great classes and cute artwork they’ve gotten their kids to collaborate on, but when it comes to 8 year olds?” You shook her head, “I’m hopeless. I chose the wrong career path.” You shrugged.

“That’s so not true, are you kidding? You’re kidding, right?” He asked, searching for the light ‘just kidding’ after your usual self deprecating jokes. But it didn’t come.

“Maybe I’m just not cut out for it.” You shrug, sliding off his chest and situating yourself on your side, his hand reaching out to hold yours.

“Babe, I’m sorry, but I don’t think you could be more wrong.” He sighed, his finger coming up to trace your cheekbone.

You closed your eyes in avoidance, you’d already made up your mind. “There’s a little boy being bullied in my class. He’s shy, smart as a whip, though. But today we were making snowflakes—” Steve smiled, remembering you sitting at the dining table, meticulously folding and cutting paper while he cooked your dinner, “—and Richie,” Steve rolled his eyes at the mention of the kids name, “just got all these kids to gang up on him! And me! Can you believe that? And it took forever it felt like, to get everyone to stop throwing shit, and yelling. Thankfully, he came out unscathed, but—“ your breath caught, “he’s gonna remember that forever. He may not want to come to school tomorrow. And it’s my fault. I’m the freaking teacher and I can’t get them to— I’m a freaking joke, Steve.”

“—You are not a joke!” He said without hesitance, his tone laced with offense taken from your words. You froze. “Do you.. do you not see how much time to spend putting lessons together? Or hear how much you talk about your kids? How much you care? You love your job. Your job is just hard and overwhelming, and you’re new at it! It’s gonna be really hard for a few years, don’t you think? But once you settle, things are gonna get so much better.” He nodded as he spoke softly, just above a whisper in the quiet apartment.

“The year’s halfway over,” he continued, “If you hate it by the end of the year, then quit! Find somewhere else, and we’ll go, but don’t quit now.” He pleaded.

The tears pouring from your eyes were steady and quiet, his message received as he ran his thumb over your cheek. You nodded. “You’d come with me?” You asked.

He nodded, “Of course I would. I’ll go wherever you are. And wherever we end up, I’m gonna come visit you in your classroom. And I’m gonna bring you lunch and flowers, and someday your kids are gonna have to start calling you Mrs. Harrington, instead.”

You sniffle and chuckle airily at the thought. “It’s all gonna be okay. And if you decide you don’t wanna teach and do something else, I’m more than happy to cheer you on in your next venture. No matter what.” He implored.

You nodded as he leaned forward to kiss your forehead. “I want you to sleep. Okay? And tomorrow you’re gonna go to school, and try again. Because that’s what you do. And I’ll be here when you get home waiting to hear all about it, yeah?”

You nodded, tears filling your eyes once more.

“And if you need to, call me at lunch. Okay? My whole day’s open, I’ll be home.” He nodded, “You aren’t alone. And you aren’t the worst. If anything, I think you’re the best. The greatest! Y’know if you were my teacher in fourth grade I would’ve been so happy to listen to you.” He traced around your brow and down to your cheekbone, ending at the tip of your nose as you chuckled. He wiped your tears away.

“S’gonna be okay, baby.” He whispered.

You nodded. “Thank you, Stevie. I love you, so so much.” You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“I love you more. Tomorrow’s gonna be better.” He assured you, pulling you close again and holding you until you fell asleep in his arms.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

As you wait for the call to go through on your lunch break, you hear a knock at your classroom door, making you jump and hang up the phone. You smooth your hair and open the door, only to find Steve standing there with his brightest smile, a vase of daisies in one hand and lunch in the other.

“There’s my girl! How’s your day?” He asked before kissing your cheek and stepping inside.

-

-

Taglist darlings 💖

@loving-and-dreaming @newshade

#steve harrington comfort #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #Steve Harrington x teacher!reader #teacher!reader #boyfriend!steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington requests #Steve Harrington x fem!reader

[aanoia]

Snow?

JJ Maybank x reader

Summary; the Outer Banks becomes a winter wonderland

Warnings; swearing

Words; 648

In honor of the snow my home is getting 🙏

Requests are welcome and encouraged! I have an anon submission box and you can ask in comments!

I shivered as the arms around me tightened their grip, pulling me in closer. I slowly opened my eyes, squinting as they adjusted to the light. It was colder than usual in the Outer Banks, temperatures reaching down to 28 degrees at the lowest, which was very unusual for us. The weather forecasters had toyed with the possibility of snow -which excited the pogues to no end- but deemed it unlikely due to the low chances of rain.

I strained my neck to look out the window and my breath left my body as my heart sped up in excitement. With a wide smile I shook JJ awake as he groaned.

“S’too early. Five more minutes,” He groaned, throwing his free arm over his eyes.

I laughed, making a small smile come across his face, “JJ, it’s snowing.” I whispered and his arm went back to his side as his eyes shot open.

“No shit, actually?” He asked, wide awake.

I nodded, “Look.”

He sat up and looked out a window. Immediately a large smile came across his face and excitement filled his eyes. He looked like a little kid on Christmas morning. He shot up from the bed and to John B’s room, accidently tripping over Pope in the process, which made me laugh as Pope grumbled angrily.

“Pope, wipe that frown off of your face. It’s snowing.” I told him with an open mouthed smile.

He looked at me in disbelief. “Yeah right, snowing in the Outer Banks?”

I put my hands up, “If you don’t believe me, look for yourself.”

“Ugh, could you guys be any louder?” Kiara groaned from the floor.

“Yes we can!” JJ and John B yelled as they ran out of John B’s room and out the door. I laughed as I swung my legs off the bed and put on my shoes.

I hugged my body as I left the chateau, the cold air nipping at my skin as I watched JJ and John B dance around in the snow, already throwing small, wet snowballs at each other. There wasn’t much snow, most of it already melting by the time it hits the ground, but we’ve never even seen it before so this is mind blowing.

I was brought out of my thoughts as cold erupted in my face. I brought my hands up and wiped away the snow/water mix. I looked at the two boys as they froze and both pointed at each other.

“Oh I’m gonna get you guys.” I said as I ran down the steps and began gathering snow. Kiara and Pope came out, layered up, and joined our snowball fight.

We fought and laughed for a while, everyone chilled down to the bone. Kiara, Pope, and John B all went inside to warm up and make everyone hot chocolate. JJ pulled me close to him as we looked into each other's eyes.

Snowflakes had landed on his eyelashes, only making JJ more beautiful. I smiled at him.

“What's the smile for?” He asked with his own smile.

I moved some hair from his face, “You’re so pretty.” I whispered.

He paused before shoving his face into the crook of my neck, small giggles falling from his lips. I thread my hand through his hair as we stood there, swaying side to side. After a few moments, he lifted his head and placed his hand on my cheek before leaning in and connecting our lips.

His lips were cold, and slightly chapped, but still soft. The kiss was soft and sweet, filled with nothing but love. The kiss lasted a few moments before we pulled away and rested our foreheads together with our eyes closed.

“I’m so in love with you.” He whispered.

I smiled and opened my eyes, “I’m so more in love with you.”

He laughed and opened his eyes as well, “Nah.”

#JJ Maybank x reader #outer banks #JJ Maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank #jj mayback imagine #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank x reader #obx imagine #obx x reader

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

3. "Try not to shit yourself Gary. It's just an open door."

GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "What could it be about?" He frets to himself, not taking your advice. "I probably talked too loud. In the Whirling. About some theories I had. Whatever it is, I'm done with it."

"I won't do it again." He looks around nervously. "If there's anything I can do to assist you -- or the Union -- just ask, okay? I'll try to help if I can."

+5 XP

HALF LIGHT [Easy: Success] - This scared him proper. He's positively *melting* from fear. Has to prop himself up with a lot of anger to keep it together.

KIM KITSURAGI - "The weather vane has turned," the lieutenant remarks with a smirk. "He cannot be un-turned."

EMPATHY [Trivial: Success] - He clearly liked his squirming. He may even have changed his mind about the whole door-opening operation.

+1 Reputation

4. "Thank you for your cooperation." [Leave.]

We're going to look for Morell's traps while we keep exploring the coastal area.

🎵 Disco Elysium

No boat in the boat house today.

Snow's really starting to pick up.

OVERSIZED SUPERSTAR SUNGLASSES

+1 Savoir Faire: Dazzling reflexes -1 Visual Calculus: The mirror lies

Is your own stardom too dazzling for your eyes? Can't bear to look at your own fabulous reflection in the mirror? Then these classic oversized sunglasses are for you.

TRAP: BOATHOUSES - There's a trap in the reeds at your feet. Looks like the same one you saw Morell set before -- same mesh, same wiring.

Look around.

Reach for the trap.

[Leave.]

TRAP: BOATHOUSES - Behind you, the ruins of a residential building loom over the reeds. They whisper amongst themselves confidentially. Snowflakes cling to their shivering stems.

SHIVERS [Medium: Success] - When this district was booming, the reeds were kept at bay. Nothing obscured the freshly painted façades, nowhere for drunks and adventurous teenagers to hide. Now only the wind blows...

2. Reach for the trap.

TRAP: BOATHOUSES - Locusts are crawling around in the trap, confused but uneaten. You see no carnivorous *reed-phasmid* gorging on them.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Big surprise." The lieutenant grins mirthlessly. "Anyway -- one down, three to go."

"Damn, I was hoping it would be in the *first* one."

"No need to grin. I'm not *expecting* to find anything. I'm helping some citizens and getting some fresh air."

"It'll be in the next one. *Surely*."

Say nothing, just put the trap down.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Surely," he repeats and looks at the sea, then at you putting the trap back on the ground. "Anyway, the air is nice and fresh here..."

2. [Leave.]

The boathouse is shoddily constructed. A strong breeze might blow it over.

Ancient paint is peeling off the roof of this shaded bench, covered in rust.

The sign says: "Entrée interdite".

An old ticket-taker booth. No longer in operation.

People paid money to park here? No one would pay now...

The door is not only barred shut -- it is inaccessible.

FALN "PIPO" PIPO

+2 Logic: Ultimate peak focus -1 Perception: Eyes on the road

The small wire framing inside this futuristic-looking FALN pipo-hat gives it the aerodynamic shape of a swoop-skiers helmet, but none of its protective qualities. Covers the wearer's ears and eyebrows to bring down the drag coefficient.

🎵 Martinaise, Terminal B (muted)

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) - A scattering of bullet holes is spread across the cracked wall, reaching from one corner to the other.

"Look, Kim. Even more bullet holes. Something's definitely gone down here."

[Visual Calculus - Heroic 15] Why this many bullet holes?

Walk away. [Leave.]

KIM KITSURAGI - "Hmm, correct." The lieutenant examines the wall closely. "The density of the bullet holes is unusual, even in a general *average bullet hole frequency in Martinaise* sense. Grim affairs."

"Meaning, this is *a lot* of bullet holes." He brushes the wall with his hand. "Looks like fully-automatic rifle fire. Something you don't see these days..."

"Why not?"

Say nothing, just nod.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant also nods. It is quite a scene -- the two of you standing next to the broken wall of an abandoned building... nodding. Nodding along.

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Medium: Success] - Two officers of the law against the world. Nodding in unison. It is your source of power. The bond of camaraderie between you... is palpable...

Nod even more.

Shake your head.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant is nodding so hard it looks like his head is about to snap off his neck.

Don't stop nodding.

Stop nodding.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant matches your nodding pace. He's a true professional at this.

ENDURANCE [Easy: Success] - The nodding's reaching critical mass! You can't take this much longer, captain!

Keep nodding, goddamn it! Stay the course!

Stop nodding.

KIM KITSURAGI - A small bead of sweat runs down the side of the lieutenant's face as he maintains his nodding...

Just one more nod.

Stop nodding.

KIM KITSURAGI - As the lieutenant takes out a handkerchief and softly taps the sweat off his temple... a faint crack echoes through the coast...

ENDURANCE - Abort! Abort! No... shit, it's too late!

-1 Health

"OH SHIT FUCK HELL!"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Busted the neck, did you?" He cranes his neck left and right, stretching. "Glad I stopped when I did... my neck was really starting to hurt. Don't worry, it'll mend... now, we should get going."

Hold on...

2. [Visual Calculus - Heroic 15] Why this many bullet holes?

+1 Bullet holes on the plaza. +1 Bullet holes in the back yard. +1 Know about the revolution. +1 Know about Feld Electrical.

VISUAL CALCULUS [Heroic: Success] - A row of ghostly shades stand facing the wall. There are many of them, a dozen at least, their heads lowered and eyes blindfolded. It's quiet. No sound, no movement.

Ten metres away -- other shades are lined up in an orderly manner, automatic rifles primed. A gust of wind blows by -- the coats of the firing squad flap slowly in the breeze. A single person stands on the side.

The morning sun rises beyond the horizon, radiating the first light of the day. The order was carried out at dawn.

A long time has passed since the moment of this fusillading. Rain and brine have since washed all the blood away. Not a trace remains.

What *is* this...

VISUAL CALCULUS - The abundance of bullet holes leads to two options: either an inordinate amount of executions were performed here, or they did not use a *conscience round* -- where only one soldier has the loaded rifle. Looks like this was a mass execution with everyone fully armed.

+5 XP

Look at the people against the wall.

Look at the line of soldiers.

Look at the person standing on the side.

"Kim, who was who in this execution?"

Good bye. [Leave.]

VISUAL CALCULUS - A host of men, probably in everyday clothes -- ragged from the conflict and covered in dust. They were not sitting (a common practice for executions in some nations), as demonstrated by the height level of the bullet holes.

They stand, facing the wall... It's impossible to discern any details about their personality or background.

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Easy: Success] - Ordinary people -- familiar, each and every one of them.

Who were they?

ESPRIT DE CORPS - Comrades. The forsaken, the wretched, who tried to rise against the horrors of the world.

2. Look at the line of soldiers.

VISUAL CALCULUS - Seven men in combat uniforms and dark coats, holding automatic rifles aimed at the people. Soldiers from some side... but from which one?

AUTHORITY [Medium: Success] - Men of duty. Dark duty.

Who were they?

AUTHORITY - Murderers. Twisted by orders. Young boys forced into killing.

3. Look at the person standing on the side.

VISUAL CALCULUS - The commandant -- the one who gives the order. Machine gun fire crackling through the air, the lights of the muzzle flashes dancing on his face...

4. "Kim, who was who in this execution?"

KIM KITSURAGI - At first the lieutenant doesn't say a word... he just stares at the wall. "I don't know," he says finally. "I don't know who died here, lined up beside that horrible wall. It could have been any of the parties involved in the Revolution."

"Perhaps the ones executed here were the loyalist-conservatives -- killed by the communists at the start of the civil war. Or it could have been the communists, put to death during the last stretch of the conflict by the Coalition forces."

LOGIC [Easy: Success] - Remember what Trant Heidelstam said about Feld.

"What if it was the Feld personnel when their assets were being seized by the revolutionaries?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Another likely scenario." The lieutenant nods.

REACTION SPEED [Easy: Success] - Or maybe...

"What about people from the Coalition? The so-called moralists?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Yeah... it's very unlikely the Coalition forces were the ones who died here. They were always the *last* ones against the wall."

"To be honest, if a Coalition member was anyone in this situation -- it was the commandant. The superior giving the orders."

+5 XP

5. Good bye. [Leave.]

VISUAL CALCULUS - A cold sea wind blows away the figures.

🎵 Disco Elysium

This section of the coast hasn't been used in decades.

We've been looking at that wall long enough for Gary and Morell to have left.

TRAP: MORELL - This is the trap Morell just set. Checking it over, he said, is just a *technicality*, but...

Look around.

Reach for the trap.

[Leave.]

TRAP: MORELL - The reeds by the abandoned camp site hiss and shake.

SHIVERS [Easy: Success] - The later it gets, the colder. Remnants of the camp can still be seen in the sand, the fire that's gone out... you feel strange, somehow.

2. Reach for the trap.

TRAP: MORELL - This trap is also full of panicked locusts. No sign of any cryptozoological beast inside.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Another empty trap," the lieutenant takes a note -- more out of habit than duty.

"Let's keep going. The next one is the *lucky* one."

"How are you enjoying the cardio, lieutenant? I'm quite enjoying it myself."

"I want to make it clear that I don't *actually* believe the phasmid exists, okay?"

Say nothing, just put the trap down.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Always up for a good jog -- otherwise, would I still be *on* this case with *you*?" He smiles and raises his collar. It's windy.

2. [Leave.]

We're going to double back now, starting to head northeast along the boardwalk - past where Trant and his son are.

Someone must have worked hard to smash the plastic dome.

Buzz. Hum. The electricity flows through the wires with audible power.

RAILING - Someone has left an unidentifiable article of clothing on this railing. It smells really bad.

Touch it.

Take a closer look.

Maybe later. [Leave.]

RAILING - The cloth, if you can still call it that, makes a soft crunching sound as you thrust your finger into it.

2. Take a closer look.

RAILING - It's streaked with dried seagull shit and tangled with pieces of seaweed. A dangling arm suggests that there might be a jacket beneath the crust of filth.

LOGIC [Medium: Success] - It seems likely that it was left in the surf until someone laid it out on this fence to dry out. Unfortunately that just seems to have stiffened it into a shapeless mass.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Please tell me you're not taking that with you."

"I think this is the jacket the Idiot Doom Spiral Guy wanted me to find."

"Why not?"

"It might be a clue."

KIM KITSURAGI - "A clue? You think our suspect is a seagull who's been defecating on unsuspecting jackets?"

"No."

"Yes."

"It could have been multiple seagulls."

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant sighs.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - A poet could write a dozen verses and still not begin to capture the profound vexation in that sigh.

INTERFACING [Trivial: Success] - You should still take it. It's probably Doom Spiral's.

A makeshift roof. Vagrants have tried to make the boardwalk habitable.

That tarp will keep out neither rain, nor snow, nor wind.

A coin operated weighing machine. Hasn't been used for a decade.

MEGA-BINO'S PRESCRIPTION LENSES

+2 Encyclopedia: Discover your inner bino -1 Perception: Nausea inducing hell-glasses

Whose idiotic idea were square and beige plastic frames anyway? Beige is a colour that does not look good on *anyone*. Not to mention that seeing the world through these exceedingly thick lenses feels almost nauseating...

FILTHY JACKET

This filthy rag has been at the mercy of the elements for quite some time. It's streaked with seagull shit and abnormally stiff from god-knows-what natural processes. You can't even tell what brand it is.

>INTERACT

FILTHY JACKET- As you hold it in your hands, it makes an uncomfortable crunching sound...

Man, how did this jacket get so disgusting?

Let's not think about that right now. [Put the filthy jacket away.]

FILTHY JACKET- It's a sordid, filthy tale, not for the weak. Are you sure you can stomach it?

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - Some secrets are better left uncovered. Don't even try, seriously.

But the *content*!

Think about it.

Don't think about it.

FILTHY JACKET- It occurs to you that you're not even *holding* the jacket itself, but rather the thick crust of jetsam and seagull shit that ensconces it.

PERCEPTION (SMELL) [Medium: Success] - It smells like a dead sea creature, tangled in grey strands of seaweed. It must have spent quite some time in the water before the tide deposited it ashore...

Gross.

Okay, but what's the crust *made* of?

FILTHY JACKET- Somehow it was carried or dragged to the boardwalk, if not by human hands than perhaps the feral dogs that prowl the beaches at night...

VISUAL CALCULUS [Medium: Success] - The faint impressions of many footprints are also present, though it's impossible to tell what kind or how many. Suffice to say, the jacket spent some time on the ground before someone draped it over the railing...

Okay, that's pretty disgusting. I've had enough.

What happened once someone put it on the railing?

FILTHY JACKET- The crust is hard. This jacket spent at least a day baking in the sun. Who knows what happened to it then?

SHIVERS [Medium: Success] - Somewhere, high above the city, a pair of seagulls trace loops through the air...

They are like the bombardiers of the aerostatic brigades, gliding above a *target-rich environment*...

All of a sudden, the bomb bay doors open, and their white glittering payload rushes to the ground...

*SPLAT*. An explosion of white on a man's shoe. A curse goes up, but the birds do not hear.

Why did I just spend all this time thinking about seagull shit?

I feel like I really understand this jacket now. [Put the jacket away.]

COMPOSURE - It's too late! You've already thought about it. And now your hands are covered in muck!

Ew, ew, ew! (Flick your hands.)

Maybe if I wipe my hands on my pants?

COMPOSURE - Now you're just flicking that shit everywhere! This is a disaster. You'll never get the smell out.

-1 Morale

Vagrants have recently painted the tarp red. Water drips from it.

POSTCARD "COURON '33"

This one has 'HELL' written on its back. It could not be further from the truth. It's the boom years, and Couron, the nicest district in Revachol West, is enjoying a sun drenched day. Tall and handsome buildings rise from the riverside: steel, iron and yellow limestone, with cloud shadows sliding on the facades.

A big wine canister -- it's open and empty.

Hm, I've hit image limit. I think I'll close this post here and continue in a new one.

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #harrier du bois

[kingmaker-a]

Heat Waves | Kim Lip

Non-idol AU

Previous | Next?

BestFriend!Reader x Best Friend Kim Lip

Warnings: Continued mentions of unrequited love.

Word Count: 1k

Premise: Even in her absence you can't help but think about her.

A/N: The sequel no one asked for except for the brain rot inside my head.

You float, you drown endlessly in the monotony.

A washed grey, blooms with scattered rain as you sulk in your apartment.Your brain catches disparate echoes like snowflakes on your tongue.

At least the snowfall was beautiful.

Dreary rain? 

Not so much.

You can still hear the echo of laughter, ribbed laughter when you suggested you’d be a Slytherin.

There’s the lackadaisical roll of her eyes, “yeah right and I’d be nothing but a troublemaker.”

It feels warm, to bask in memories from a far less complicated time.

Well, before you complicated things.

You definitely weren’t Gryffindor that was for sure, not a day goes by where you wish you had the strength to confess.

To burn the bridge once and for all, just so it’d give you some semblance of peace.

Still, you remember the way her hands would roll through your hair, a hitched laugh as she remained engrossed in whatever movie you decided to torture you both with.

Popcorn is the only respite from her pterodactyl-like cackle, still it warms a smile against your lips.

In spite of whatever B-grade plot was going on.

It’s comfortable resting your head in her lap, a delicately decadent comfort that you never received.

It aches deep at your core.

Only now could you pick up the tension in each finger brushed stroke of her hand, the rigid pause that hangs deep into the air illuminated only by your TV.

It’s the cold hard blue light that punctuates the moment deep into your soul.

There’s a roiling turbulence to her features as you tempt the briefest of glimpses, a pause held deep in her head. A tense nip of her bottom lip.

Her eyes dart to you like a poisoned dagger.

“...Have you ever been in love?”

It’s deadly in its aim, cracking the sugar glass of your heart.

Perhaps you should’ve known then, that there wasn’t a chance.

Her gaze is like a sweltering heat wave, melting through you with each lingering second.

You’d been friends for many years, deep conversations weren’t unheard of. Yet, there had always been a wall almost unspoken of, a veiled shield to protect you from the nature of your vulnerability.

Your tongue tenses against your teeth, your heart dancing on a razor’s edge.

“It’s hard to tell.”

There’s that quirk of her eyebrows, that almost looks like thinly veiled disappointment, though she did always have a piercing cold look sometimes.

“Explain.”

Your lips purse, locked in a dance with your thoughts, simple though they might be you needed to hide certain truths.

“As far as I can tell… yeah, I’ve been in love.”

There’s the slightest press of a frown, the weight of heavy thoughts.

“How’d you know?”

“I-They’re all you can think about.”

A pointed smirk is all you needed to see, the gnarled edge of her teasing grin the prelude to no doubt ceaseless poking and prodding.

That’s when her phone rings, the echo like the blaring sharp edge of a morning alarm.

Suddenly she’s gone without so much as a word, like she was nothing but a figment of your imagination. A truly tortuous construct of radiant beauty, so close yet just out of reach.

It’d felt like months since her last visit to your apartment, you were to blame. You were nothing but a slowly fading apparition in her life.

Yet it was only a couple of days.

Rain patters against your windows, the slow build up of a storm backed by a deep grey fog.

Dreary.

Your phone rumbles deep against the floor, a discarded afterthought. In recent days it’d rung with its own pulse despite your abandonment.

Worried texts and calls from friends and family.

You just needed a breather.

Still, it burns against your ears, jarring and grating, hushed only by your tightened death grip against the power button. 

Your attention returns to whatever drivel constitutes mainstream appeal on your TV, god knows how many of your favourite shows had been cancelled already.

Still, you only needed it for white noise, a shield against the lingering shards in your own mind.

You relax against your coach, it echoes with a loneliness that you try not to think about, your eyes slowly drift shut as you slowly drown in the dreary air.

A knock rattles against your door, fierce and unabated. 

Perhaps the storm had brewed against your very door? 

A figment of your mind, you hadn’t ordered delivery, at least not yet.  A habit that you’re reminded of by the various takeout containers strewn about in your apartment in recent days.

The door rattles once again, dancing with a desperate almost angered edge. Too angry to be any type of door to door bullshit.

Your fingers scratch at your scalp, pulling and tugging at the strand of annoyance in your mind,  a sigh parts through your lips as you trudge to the door.

You were just about to finally get some sleep.

Your door rattles once again, only hattled by the sound of your door knob as it catches against the door frame. 

One of the few problems with your apartment.

Still you wonder if it was too late to tell whoever decided to bother you to fuck off, or at the very least if they could give you two business days to reconstitute yourself into something that was vaguely human shaped.

As the door cracks the slightest bit open you catch the whiff of beer in the air, only the slightest hint crests the air but it’s unmistakable nonetheless.

Your brain flashes with all the potential dangers, a rouge belligerent or a lost drunkard.

Annoyance swells in your throat at the hassle. 

Still you slowly peel the door open, your brain picks up shades before shapes. Dull neutral greys and blacks, soaked, rain slicked with the slightest hint of red.

Flowers, worn crinkled and destroyed.

You can hear the slow drip of water padding your floor, too focused on the rain soaked person in front of you.

Somehow someone had managed to beat you in being pitiful, tears glisten differently in the blue hued light cast by your TV.

“Jungeun?”

#kim lip scenarios #kim lip #kim lip x reader #loona x reader #loona imagines #loona scenarios #kim jungeun #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios

[coffinseas]

The ad had been posted over two weeks ago, and he was starting to lose faith that anyone would answer it. Were people really that well-off that they didn’t need to split the rent? Were they are in college dorms? If they were, wouldn’t they rather have a nice, cushy apartment with their own room? It was in a pretty good area, too!

Well, sort of. It was near campus, and close enough to a few busy streets, but just a block down was home to a few dilapidated buildings. Maybe that was what was putting people off?

Maybe they just thought it was too good to be true?

Whatever it was, he was starting to get frustrated. His hot chocolate remained untouched as it rested on the edge of the couch, and all he was doing was staring at the ceiling. 

Then, just as he was beginning to fall asleep, his phone vibrated right on its perch — his chest. He snatched it up immediately, staring down at the notification flashing on his screen.

Someone wanted to see the place. Someone wanted to see the place!!! 

He sat up and furiously texted back, asking the person when they’d like to come over, date and time. Then, without waiting for a response, he jumped off the couch and got to tidying up the space.

@melting-snowflakes

#;;new donation (thread). #;;b: melting-snowflakes #;;c: song lan #EEEYAAHYHEYYEAHHH #;;v: world's sweetest party drug (modern).

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Hakuoki Ginsei Saito Story 2

tiny bit late sorry.... but i kinda took a nap after watching picard lol. -.-

Hakuoki Ginsei B’s Log 2020年4月 Saito Short Story “Kisaragi (如月)” [meaning the 2nd month]

Translation by KumoriYami

It was snowing.

Kyoto, Nishi Hongan-ji Temple. I was alone in the courtyard looking up at the sky, which looked like it had been dyed white by the snow.

"This could be the last time I get to appreciate the snow at headquarters…?"

The words spewed out became a white mist, melting into the cold February air.

…Do I have any thoughts about leaving/Do you not want to leave the Shinsengumi?

When Ito-san spoke the other day, I answered that I did.

Which is why in not so distant future, I will be parting with the Shinsengumi and leave headquarters with the Guardians of the Imperial Tomb.

"…Everyone, I'm afraid that everyone will get angry…."

But that is how it should be.

For those who had been there since Shiekan and supported our comrades until now, there can be no crueler betrayal than this.

Souji will appear to say nothing, but if encountered on the battlefield, he will certainly kill me without the slightest hesitation.

If it was Sano and Shinpachi, they would definitely blame me for leaving.

I'm afraid that the rest of the members will be the same. Although everyone's reaction will be different, they will angry with my disgraceful actions.

But, if there was someone not like that, then it would be—

"….Yukimura. Will that girl grieve too?"

That kind-hearted girl, will she get angry or cry because of my betrayal?

If it's for some other person, their reaction can be imagined, but for some reason, only that person's reaction cannot be predicted.

"...Don't think too much about it."

Showing any mercy to the Shinsengumi will cause problems for this mission.

Shaking my head to dispel this senseless melancholy, I turned my gaze towards the falling snowflakes once again.

"...?"

In the corner of this silver world, there was a faint burst of red.

Inside the courtyard, it appeared that there were colours aside from white.

As if fascinated, I quietly extended my hand through the snow.

Buried in the snow was a blooming and cold camellia, tinted in a red that was lighter than blood, but brighter than that of sakura.

"...It blossomed beneath this snow?"

My outstretched fingers brushed the snow away and gently touched its soft petals.

I couldn't help but put a smile on my face.

Before I knew it, those feelings I had been thinking about, graudally erased themselves from my mind.

"....My bushido, is with the Shinsengumi."

Yes. Even if I am considered a traitor, there is no need to grieve.

Regardless of how much one's thoughts are covered in the ice-cold snow, deep inside, there will indeed be a bright red camellia blooming.

---end---

#hakuoki #hakuouki #hakuoki other translation #saito hajime

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[camels-pen]

Snaked

Summary:

/snaked/ 1) To get stabbed in the back or be generally screwed over by someone 2) Stole or stolen. 1. That fucker just snaked me. / I thought he could be trusted but he snaked me. 2. I just snaked that dude's wallet.

Danny and Sam learn Tucker has a fear of snakes. He also happens to steal Danny's hard earned prize. Oh, and Danny turns into a dragon.

based on @bellsandmischief's prompt "Danny and friends are yeeted via portal into a medieval/mythical universe, and now have to defeat a Hydra (or other mythical beast) to get the "key" to get home."

Ao3 Link

“Hark! Wake the girlies from their sleep, there’s a beast afoot!”

“That’s not how it goes,” Sam said. “And get off of there before you make it notice us.”

“So sue me, I haven’t read the book,” Danny grumbled, floating to the ground. “And I was just trying to lighten things up.”

“And while I appreciate that, how about we lighten things up after we get Tucker back from the massive hydra?”

“Seconded!” yelled a tiny voice in Danny’s ear. He winced and turned down the volume of the Fenton Phones. 

“Well, it’s not like he’s in any real danger at the moment, and you were starting to get a permanent scowl on your face.”

“I’ll put a permanent scowl on your face.”

“Guys, can we please do this later?! I think the hydra’s trying to ask me out and I don’t know how to say no without getting eaten!”

Danny hummed, leaning back against the massive stone wall. “Try—” He made the sound of a train whistle, followed by shredded paper.

“Ow! Did you have to say that so loud?” 

“Wasn’t any louder than your yelling earlier.”

“Hey, Danny,”—Sam squinted at him—“what exactly did you say?”

“Why?”

“Because it sounded like ‘you have faces only a mother snake could love’.”

Danny clicked his tongue. Damn Sam and her growing knowledge of Ghost Speak.

“I’m not saying that!” Tucker screeched. “That’s like a guaranteed ticket to its stomach!”

Danny put a hand to his chin. “I think it’d be ‘stomachs’, plural. Since it’s got a bunch of heads it probably has—”

“Not helping!” Tucker yelled.

“Ugh, fine, fine. I’ll drop it.” He craned his neck up to watch the massive green hydra above them, Tucker sat atop one of its yellow scaled heads while the others dote over him. “How’d you even get this thing to want you so bad? Did your stinky cologne finally work on someone?”

“Okay, A) it’s not stinky it’s funky fresh, and, B) I. Don’t. Know!” he wailed.

“Have you found the gem, at least?” Sam asked.

“Well, I would have if I wasn’t preoccupied with NOT GETTING EATEN!” Danny put a hand over his eyes, squinting through the sunlight. It looked like one of the heads licked Tucker. He heard him shudder. “Eww, gross.”

“You’ve been up there that long and you still haven’t found it? Amateur.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, have you ever been held hostage by a hydra before? Hmm?” Sam looked like she was about to answer, but Tucker barely gave pause. “I didn’t think so. So how about we trust the current expert on hydra kidnappings and believe him when he says THIS IS TERRIFYING!”

“I still don’t think it exists,” Danny said with a shrug. “I mean it’s way too good to be true.”

“Well, you can go back to the castle and ask the stuck up king again, but I think he’d just start yelling about cutting off your head for coming back empty handed.” 

“Yeah, I’m not gonna do that. Especially not when my powers are still messed up from that portal.” Danny held open his palm imagining a fiery blast of ectoplasm appearing. There was a little puff of smoke followed by a fart sound. “But neither of you find it weird that when we asked if they knew any ghosts or magic that could get us home, they said ‘hey, the hydra’s got this shiny green rock, maybe that could help’ and shoved us at it?” 

“Obviously it’s suspicious, but we don’t exactly have any other leads here!” 

“Oh, c’mon Tuck, I thought you were into monsters and stuff,” Danny said, trying for his ice next, but ending up with a single snowflake. It quickly melted in his palm.

“I am a strict werewolf lover, thank you very much!”

“I don’t know if ‘lover’ is the right term—”

“I’m never letting you download MCR songs on my PDA ever again.”

“Hey now, no need to be unreasonable. We’ve got a plan to get you down and everything,” she said. She turned off her Fenton Phone then turned to say, “I can’t afford to lose my battle music. We need to think of a plan.”

“I can still hear you through Danny’s mic!”

Danny sighed. “I’ve been trying to think of stuff, but without my powers working—and since those cheapskates from the castle wouldn’t give us any weapons—I don’t really have any ideas.”

“Damn, none of your powers work?” 

“I’ve been cycling through them, but yeah. Nothing except flight.” Danny picked up a hefty rock, examining it before holding it up. “You think I could just fly up and dump a bunch of stuff on it and hope to kill it? Maybe use a sharp stick to cut off its heads?”

Sam made a face of disgust. “We’re not killing it. We’re better than that.” She shook her head. “Besides, hydras in Greek mythology grow two new heads for every head cut off. Or something like that.”

He gasped. “You? Not sure about creepy monster mythology??”

Sam smacked his arm. “It’s been a while since I read my big book on myths, okay? Shut up.”

“Still about to be eaten here!”

They both looked up. Saw a few of the heads rubbing their cheeks against him. Looked down.

“You think his fear of snakes is new?”

“Maybe. Though it could just be a fear of giant snakes.” Danny hummed. “Probably new either way though. Also, we should probably get him down before he faints or something.”

Sam sighed. “It’s a shame we can’t just ask it to give us Tucker back.” She paused. “And the gem.”

Something pulsed in Danny’s chest. He rubbed at it. “Huh. That’s new.” 

“What? Are your powers working again?”

“Something like that, I think.” He opened and closed his hands a few times, feeling the bones shift at his command. He smirked. “Oh yeah, this’ll work.”

Danny closed his eyes, imagining the massive creature in his head. Thought of changing, shifting, becoming.

“Holy FUCK! Sam, what is he doing?!”

“I don’t know! Maybe he’s allergic to something here?!” 

“Quiet,” he growled, voice much deeper than before. “Need to. Concentrate.”

Danny felt himself grow taller, longer, stronger. He felt something tough and scratchy sprout from his skin, felt his nails growing longer and sharper, felt two little sharp things poke out of his forehead. His bones restructured themselves until he was forced forwards onto his hands and feet. It wasn’t exactly pleasant, but he was grateful it wasn’t painful either.

Or, at least, it wasn’t until he felt something explode outward from his back. He yelled—roared, [That fucking hurt!]

He blinked his eyes open and found himself face-to-face—er, faces—with the hydra. A trembling Tucker was sitting atop one of the heads, hands desperately gripping onto one of the thick horns protruding out from the back of the head. 

“If he’s allergic to something then why did he turn into a dragon?!”

[Because I didn’t want the headaches that would come with having 7 extra brains, obviously,] he said. Sam and Tucker continued to bicker as if he hadn’t said a word. [And now they’re not listening to me, great.]

[It’s a simple hivemind,] a higher pitched voice said, scoffing. [And of course humans can’t hear our mother tongue.] Danny looked around for the source of the voice. But there was no one here other than the three of them.

[Hello? I’m over here.] He followed the voice to—[Honestly, youth these days are so melodramatic.]

The hydra. The very cuddly hydra that liked Tucker for some reason. Could talk this whole time?

[Why didn’t you say anything before?]

[I believe I just explained humans can’t hear our mother tongue.] Each of the heads sniffed in unison. [I’ve been speaking the whole time.]

[Well, then how can I understand you now?]

It rolled all 8 pairs of eyes. [Look for yourself.]

Danny looked down. His eyes widened. [Holy shit.]

From head to toe—head to paw? Whatever—Danny was covered in dark black scales, with a small patch of white ones on his chest. His hands and—he craned his neck back—yup, his feet too, were turned into huge scaly paws with large white claws. He turned in place and curved his neck around to look over his shoulder. There were big leathery wings too, the joints covered in scales, but the inner parts a bright green colour. 

He tried to imagine flapping them, and they actually moved. Though it was more of an awkward flailing that hit his face.

Now that he’d paused to notice all the changes in his body though, he could feel two identical weights on his head. When he reached a paw upwards, he felt large horns attached to his forehead.

Something felt… off though.

[Shouldn’t I have a tail or something? I thought all dragons had tails. Or, at least, all the cool ones anyway.]

The hydra snickered. [Oh, you’ve got a tail alright.]

Danny turned further to try and catch sight of it. [Where? I can’t see anything.]

[It’s a little cottontail. The ones you would see on a small prey animal.] Like a rabbit? Ugh. Of course a new ghost power wouldn’t work right on the first try. He should’ve figured.

“Hey, Danny! If you can hear me, I think you need to grab Tucker, he doesn’t sound too hot!” Sam’s tiny voice yelled up at him. He couldn’t completely make out what she was saying, but he did hear something about Tucker and the guy was looking a lot wobblier on his perch on the hydra. He better hurry up.

[Uh, hey, listen hydra guy, we’re just trying to get home. So do you think we could borrow your rock for a little while?]

[Rock?] The hydra tilted all of its heads to the right. Well, 7 of its heads. It thankfully didn’t move the head holding Tucker.

[The magic glowing gem.]

[That? Pah, you can take it.] The hydra started to make a gagging noise from one of its mouths and spat out a saliva coated glowing gem on the ground. 

[Cool cool,] He lifted a paw to point at Tucker. [I’m also gonna need my friend back.]

The hydra pressed closer to Tucker, the unoccupied 7 heads falling into a circle around him. [Why? I’d take good care of him. You can leave him with me.] 

Danny didn’t like the way it talked about Tucker like a pet. He changed tactics. [Why are you so hung up on Tucker anyway? Is it his smell, or…?]

[Oh heavens, no,] it said. [This human’s red top and yellow scales remind me of my sister. It’s been ages since I’ve seen her.] It bumped one of its heads into Tucker’s chest, sticking a forked tongue out to lick the air. Tucker froze the moment its jaw opened and when the tongue appeared he was out like a light. He started to fall backwards, Danny jolting up to catch him, but the hydra beat him to it, quickly wrapping around Tucker’s torso to hold him up. 

[See?] it said. [I’m great at this.] Its head tightened around him. [Now leave us alone.]

[Nah, I think it’s time you took a little trip.] Danny lunged forward, turning just as he ran past and flaring his wings. He meant to sweep the hydra’s legs out from under it, but instead ended up falling over his new and unfamiliar limbs, his wings getting terribly bent and, at one point, stepped on. It still got the job done, but—[God FUCK that hurt, jesus CHRIST.]

“Tucker!” Sam yelled. Danny jerked his head around, watching Tucker fall and start to get dangerously close to the ground. He couldn’t stretch out his wings in time and his paws were tipped with claws! How was he supposed to—?!

An idea hit him. 

Swiftly, he scrambled backwards and stuck his ass straight into the air, hoping he was right.

He felt a small weight land on his backside, on fur instead of scales. Danny breathed a sigh of relief.

Carefully, he lowered himself to the ground, waiting until Sam was close enough to grab Tucker before sitting down completely.

[That was a little too close for comfort,] he said with a laugh. [We should probably grab the gem and get out of here.]

[You will regret doing that, little dragon.]

The hydra stood once more, all of its eyes thinned to slits and their yellow scales fluttering up as if it was a cat with raised hackles.

[I’m so rattled,] Danny said as he moved to stand above his friends. [Ha! Snake pun!] He looked down to watch for Sam’s reaction before remembering his current state of being. Damn. [Why is it that when I’m finally able to come up with good puns in this dimension, you guys can’t hear them?] he grumbled. Sam, of course, had no response for him.

[I am no simple snake,] the hydra hissed. [At worst I am most similar to a Greater Lizard!]

[Either way, Tucker’s more of a wolf guy.] Danny growled, [So how about you beat it before I get serious.]

[You really expect me to believe you can beat me? When you fell over your own front paws while taking the human back from me?] The hydra laughed, one head laughing a single time, followed by another and another. [I’d like to see you try.] Each of its mouths opened in unison, eight balls of crackling electricity growing bigger and bigger in their jaws.

Danny sighed. It was always electricity. 

It did give him an idea though. 

He opened his own mouth and concentrated on the feeling of his ice powers. As soon as he felt it crawl up his throat, he blasted them outwards. Small uneven balls of ice pelted the hydra, hitting noses, eyes, horns, and, eventually, one of those glowing balls of electric energy. 

It exploded in the mouth of one of the heads and it roared, out of sync with the other heads that were still charging. It knocked into the two other heads on either side of it and the head on the right accidentally let off its charge, setting the ground at its feet on fire.

The hydra heads kept knocking into other heads and setting off their electric charges too. Also, the bottom half of the hydra was jumping around, trying to avoid the fire. It was quite a sight.

Eventually, the hydra ended up within arm’s reach of Danny. He grinned.

[You know, you’re a pretty fun guy. Hissssterical, even.] He stood up on his hind legs. [But it’s time for my fist to give you a little goodnight hiss.] He pulled back his hand and punched one of the middle heads, the one that had been constricting around Tucker earlier. 

The Hydra went down with a cry of pain. It twitched a little, but after a while it thankfully didn’t get up again.

Danny looked down at his friends.

Now how to change back. Hmm—

As if responding to his thoughts, his body started to shed its scales and shrink down. He felt the wings on his back start to disappear, followed closely by his other draconic traits.

By the time he’d turned by into his regular halfa self, Tucker was awake and sitting on the grass looking drained. Sam was standing right behind him, practically holding him up with her legs as she examined the gem.

When he looked up at her, she tossed the gem to him. “I think it works on ectoplasm. Give it some juice.” 

Danny nodded. “Sure thing.” He tried again to create a ball of ectoplasm in his palms, smiling when he found his powers working like normal. “Huh, guess the dragification shook whatever was blocking my powers loose.”

“So, what the hell was that all about anyway?” Sam asked. “The becoming a dragon thing.”

Danny shrugged. “It wasn’t exactly what I was going for, but I needed to get big enough to grab Tucker and probably beat the thing up, then I felt my bones shifting—no, no I promise it’s not as bad as it sounds—anyway I just ‘thought big’ and then something funky in my chest just started making me change.”

“We’re gonna circle back to that bone thing.” Sam glared at him. “But, I mean, it was a pretty good first try for turning into a dragon.”

“A good try for a dragon, yeah, but I was just trying to make myself bigger. I didn’t mean to do the whole shapeshifting into a huge mythological creature thing.” He grinned. “It was pretty cool though.”

“Very cool,” Tucker said. “Very big fan of the tail. That thing was a real lifesaver. Great for saving someone a hare’s breadth from death.”

“Wow, beating Danny to making the first pun in a new dimension? I’m impressed, Tuck,” Sam said.

“What the—he did not. I made a pun earlier! Several!”

“You mean when we couldn’t understand a thing you were saying and were otherwise preoccupied with the hydra?” Sam asked. “And you just happened to remember this now?”

“Well, when you put it like that it sounds bad, but it’s true!” he insisted. “I made a snake pun!”

“Sssssure you did, Danny.” If he wasn’t concentrating on the gem, he would so punch Tucker right now.

Sam leaned down to give Tucker a fist bump. “Nice.”

“Thank you, thank you, I’ll be here until Danny hurries his ass up and makes a portal home.”

“I hate you guys,” Danny grumbled.

#danny phantom #phic #phic phight 2023 #phic phight #nemo the writing ho

[walkswithdave]

The God Machine II: Fractal Video Feedback Kinetic Sculpture (Ty and Dave Edition)

Three high definition camera feedback loops and beam-splitter glass, combined with an Insanity Mode of a feedback loop between feedback loops themselves, mix together to create fractal sets within other fractal sets, cell structures, strands of DNA, trees, insects, tentacled primordial creatures - a combination of movements and settings that result in never identical ephemeral visual output.

See the Device here: https://youtu.be/3uzxcl_d8uk?si=Q-cYhc1KMaQuETWv

See the entire Light Herder project here: https://www.thelightherder.com

Switching quickly between an input and the camera looking at that input on a screen instantly "traps" that image within the system, now cycling 'round and 'round between camera and screen, contorting with each iteration.

Watch a video about images "trapped in the wires" here: https://youtu.be/3Sm0H_8Z7uc?si=b_7vYLGf4qxepH-B

Made of maple, mahogany, aluminum, three cameras, five HD feedback monitors (with hue/saturation/brightness analog knobs), three Roland video switchers, two viewing monitors, two sheets of beam splitter glass, and a video input, the mechanism makes high definition analog video feedback as never before created.

Dedicated to Douglas Hofstadter, who taught me to love all things self-referential.

Feedback loops are all-important, and are present in ecosystems, geological systems, social systems, biological systems, and it’s no wonder the images created using the structure are so organic looking. Gazing into this feedback allows for insights into the magic of recursion.

But where do these images come from you might be thinking, and why do they actually exist? Once initiated, they come from themselves, and exist because they exist.

Imagine a dark room where a camera is looking at a screen which displays the output of that camera. The screen will stay void of an image forever until a “spark of life” (say the lighting of a match) brings forth an image, which will then continue on and on, changing through iterations. That pattern now exists within the wires of the system, long after the original spark is gone.

See an example of feedback started with a "spark of life" here: https://www.thelightherder.com/2010/01/feedback-machine-test-number-three.html

But, then imagine something blocks the camera’s view of the screen, just for an instant. All of a sudden, the image goes out, and the camera sees a dark screen again, which displays what the camera sees, etc… now blackness replaces the pattern. It would be impossible to find these feedback images by looking at the wiring of the system, by dissecting the cameras and monitors.

This may be like the mind - you can't find consciousness just by inspecting the nerves and connections of the brain. The mind is a pattern that grows through feedback, iterations over time. Once that pattern is interrupted (something blocks the camera's view of the monitor), the pattern disappears, leaving just the organic mechanism.

So this may answer the question "where do we go when we die?" - the same place the snowflake's pattern goes when the snowflake melts?

Light Herding by Dave Blair and Ty Hardaway.

Music: Thee Oh Sees, Black Chems

For The Video Feedback Kinetic Sculpture complete build history:

Forward Chronology: https://walkswithdave.tumblr.com/tagged/videofeedbackkineticsculpture/chrono

Reverse Chronology: https://walkswithdave.tumblr.com/tagged/videofeedbackkineticsculpture

#videofeedbackkineticsculpture #light herder

[esther-dot]

How do you think j0nry@ stans got the idea that j0nry@ would end up canon? I cant seem to rap my head around the concept because at least jonrice has some “stuff” to point to their ship but j0nry@ has very little stuff that makes any sense besides the theories from self insert ar/ya stans

I’ll tell you about what I’ve seen, but I think you’ll regret asking 😂

For starters, they have the original outline. I know we all laugh because the story has changed so much, but I actually have some sympathy for this because I think the fact that Martin apparently always intended for Bran to end up king is really interesting. Obviously the context/meaning of it changed, but I’m not sure why fans act like the details being different means there isn’t anything to be gleaned from the outline. Also, I do think it matters that Martin liked the idea of a Jon x Stark girl romance because a) it means everyone arguing he’d never consider Jon/“sister” pairing can be ignored. The idea was very much in his head at one point! b) it means he thought fauxcest was commercially viable. Anyway, at one point he did say Jon would have a romance with Arya.

From the most reasonable to the most disturbing reason…swords are common phallic imagery. Can I stop there? No? Jon gives Arya a sword in AGOT. Jonry@s have metas about how that means they will eventually have sex.

Actually, maybe this is more disturbing. The argument that they will fall in love is supported with quotes about their existing love, as in, they think their sibling bond is foreshadowing for romantic love. That’s why they harp on how rarely Jon and Sansa think of each other and talk about how Jon doesn’t love Sansa—because the absence of the sibling love (in their minds) sinks romantic Jonsa which is funny because that’s what a lot of us look at and think is what would make it possible. Anyway, that means that a common thing to do is to think of this moment--

Arya ran to him for a last hug. "Put down the sword first," Jon warned her, laughing. She set it aside almost shyly and showered him with kisses. (AGOT, Jon II)

--as a shipping moment. They use it in their metas/shippy fanart.

The other thing I’ve seen them point to are the comparisons of Ygritte to Arya:

Ygritte watched and said nothing. She was older than he'd thought at first, Jon realized; maybe as old as twenty, but short for her age, bandy-legged, with a round face, small hands, and a pug nose. Her shaggy mop of red hair stuck out in all directions. She looked plump as she crouched there, but most of that was layers of fur and wool and leather. Underneath all that she could be as skinny as Arya. (ACOK, Jon VI)

and

Ygritte trotted beside Jon as he slowed his garron to a walk. She claimed to be three years older than him, though she stood half a foot shorter; however old she might be, the girl was a tough little thing. Stonesnake had called her a "spearwife" when they'd captured her in the Skirling Pass. She wasn't wed and her weapon of choice was a short curved bow of horn and weirwood, but "spearwife" fit her all the same. She reminded him a little of his sister Arya, though Arya was younger and probably skinnier. It was hard to tell how plump or thin Ygritte might be, with all the furs and skins she wore. (ASOS, Jon II)

Look, you asked, and I did warn you. They take those passages and say, (I’ve seen this multiple times by different Jonry@s), “Why are you thinking about Arya naked, Jon?” You brought this on yourself anon. You have to live with that.

So, to them there is the author’s intent in the original outline followed by a promise in the first book of the two later having a romantic relationship, the “erotic subtext” continued with the comparisons to Ygritte which all culminates with this:

Jon flexed the fingers of his sword hand. The Night's Watch takes no part. He closed his fist and opened it again. What you propose is nothing less than treason. He thought of Robb, with snowflakes melting in his hair. Kill the boy and let the man be born. He thought of Bran, clambering up a tower wall, agile as a monkey. Of Rickon's breathless laughter. Of Sansa, brushing out Lady's coat and singing to herself. You know nothing, Jon Snow. He thought of Arya, her hair as tangled as a bird's nest. I made him a warm cloak from the skins of the six whores who came with him to Winterfell … I want my bride back … I want my bride back … I want my bride back …(ADWD, Jon XIII)

To them, Jon is talking about Arya being his bride. A lot of these fans think Arya will be QitN, so it’s possible they have a theory about Jon marrying her to unite his claim with a Stark post parentage reveal, just as Jonsas argue? I really don’t know because they tend to hate Sansa so I’ve blocked a lot of them. But, that's the proof/argument I saw before I filtered the tag.

I responded to an ask from a Jonry@ once here, and explained why I didn’t think it was happening.

#anti jonrya #ask dot #< tag to filter

[sirnotsircos]

A Very Sapphic Chrimis

🎄🎄🎄

Hey Ho! I've been dwindling away on my own falling head over heels for these silly lil sapphic OCs. I was supposed to be actual plot writing today but a "Christmas in a countryside castle" playlist auto-played on youtube and well now I've written some fluff instead.

MAN DO I WISH I COULD DRAW IT COULD A CUTE LIL COMIC BUT NOOOOOO 😩

So instead here's the same scene from both POVs

B/c there's no context what-so-ever here's a brief low down:

Denali: Ex-high Demoness, Hell ex-pat (it's hell in hell), stoic tall willowy mommy with a muted color pallet.

Nephili: Half-Angel ghost hunter, stout, curvy, and a bubbly mess of wonderful curly hair.

(these are neither of their real names, but celestial and demonic rarely translate well to earthly languages)

A Very Sapphic Chrimis 1.0 (Denali)

Delani gazed up at the granite mansion through the fog of her hot breath hanging in the cold winter air. She was quite proud of this estate, she hadn’t even had to kill anyone for this one. No, she’d earned it all on her own…after her dear friend Fredrick had passed away and left it to her.  She did not kill him, nor have him killed. She didn’t do that sort of thing anymore. 

The murky glass windows glowed warm with lamp light, the trails of deep green cedar branches Nephili had woven along all the running trim of the first level was lit up with string lights. The heavy iron planters Denali had never bothered to fill were now over flowing with greans and stray brancnhes, curling and twisting sprigs of deep red roots and great big red and white star shaped flowers. Denali’s heart was swelling at every twinkle light, ever colorful bobble and ribbon, her home had never quite looked so homey. 

“Dens?” Nephili’s voice chimed through the silence of the snow covered world. 

“Yes, Darling?” Denali turned to her love, knee deep in snow with her dark sprawling hair dotted with snowflakes like stars take to the night sky. 

Her glasses had been solved up into ther hair, sleet painting the lenses. Denali knew she’d be untangling them later.

“What’s your full name?” Nephili had been off in the woods all day collecting foliage for the house, the hounds prancing around her melting trails in the snow with their flaming breath. She hadn’t even come inside to warm up before getting to work. Her nose was red and runny, and her cheeks pink from the cold, but still she smiled and her eyes were shining. 

“It’s dreadful,” Denali frowned, “I have to make my tongue all long to say it.” 

“Oh,” Nephili chewed at her bottom lip, and consideration crossed her features, “I’d still like to hear it. Even if it’s just once.”

Those big dumb golden brown orbs grew tree sizes and Denali had to remind herself it was infact below freezing and she, an ex-high demoness would not be melting at the feet of this half morta- oh who was she kidding. 

“Fine,” Denali rolled her eyes in faux annoyance to cover for her weak will, “I suppose it has been an awfully long time since even I’ve said it out loud. I-well, I’m going to-”

Denali considered her words.

“Get kind of toothy,” she regretted the words she chose immediately.

“Toothy?” Nephili eyebrows went up.

“Yeah, for the long tongue to like move aroun- you know what,” Denali sighed, “I’ll just show you.”

Denali thought hard about her face, how it used to look when she occupied hell as nothing but a spawn, she had no will over her form. She could feel her jaw drop and elongate, her already fanger teeth shunted all which ways, skewing to make odd irregular gaps. Next was her tongue, long like a serpent dripping in drool and ichor, lashing around her knew jagged maw. 

It really sounded alot like hissing and gargling and two to three coughs and not at all as short and sweet and Denali. There were six-teen syllables in all and Denali wondered how she and her family had ever used to get it out so quickly and casually in the first place. Should she ever see her again, she’d need to have a long talk with her mother. As the name settled it’s time on her tongue, Denali began to focus on her new face, the one she’d grown most accustomed to. 

“Huh,” Nephili quirked her head to the side, her eyes dragging along the long lashing tongue before her, “that was long as fuck.”

Unable to speak just yet Denali nodded and blinked in aggreance. She was right, even for demons it was a lot.

“Sweetheart?” Nephili’s voice rang sweet as a bell.

Denali had just about finished contorting her face back.

“Keep the tongue out for a bit,” Nephili rose to her toes and pressed a chaste kiss to Denali’s cheek, turned and started towards the house, “you haven’t thanked me for decorating the house yet. I think I’d like a go with it.”

Denali’s tongue, which was in the process of shrinking, stopping in it’s tracks. Bright red blush bloomed across her cheeks and she found her eyes fell, most depravedly on her loves ass as he swayed up the steps. 

This was going to be a most merry Christmas, indeed.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

A Very Sapphic Chrimis 2.0 (Nephili)

Nephili trailed behind the dogs as they zigzagged deep melted paths through the snow, yipping and panting happily at the cool sensation of the snow on their bodies. The good boys loved it up here in the winter, even for hell hounds there was a limit to how much heat they really enjoyed. She’d been sending them to and from the house all day to clear a path for her as the snow kept falling. Annoyingly enough Denali seemed to just be able to do some demon magic shit to walk stop the snow as if it were little more than an inch deep. Whereas Nephili guessed it would be up to her knees by now if she didn’t have the dogs and perhaps her waist by the time it was done flailing in the morning. 

Nephili toted the last cluster of greens for one of the giant iron planters at teh front door in a bundle behind her. The tips of her toes were just now starting to feel the cold creep in, her angelic blood kept a lot of her more mortal weakness at bay for longer periods of time than a normal human but still her cheeks were raw and if she screwed her eyes up just right she could see how pink her nose was. She’d long since shed her glasses, her breath had frozen across the lenses and refused to defrost with a wipe of her mittens. 

Denali’s slender form bowed to and fro across the lit windows of the mansion as Nephili approached. From here she couldn’t see what exactly Denali was doing but she was milling about the kitchen and judging from the grace with wich she moved she was in a good enough mood to be levitating. Nephili hoped dearly she was baking. Her macarons were out of this world, made purely with ingredients found in this world Denali had assured her. Oh, or maybe it was one of those orange walnut cakes, or-  Nephili’s stomach growled. 

With a new found determination and efficiency Nephili arranged the greens and red roots and bobbles,  and threw lights in whatever depths of the planter would take them. By the time she was done a warm smell had starter the waft through the old unsealed windows and Nephili’s stomach was positively dancing at the thought of what could be rising in that oven. So, she called out for her love and scurried back several paces until the house was in full view, her sweeping garlands and woven lights all perfectly arranged.

Denali stared, and stared, and then stared some more. She stared so long that Nephili ended up staring at Denali while waiting for a reaction. She stared at the demoness for so long that her mind strayed into every thought that barely grazed her peripheries. Did Denali like it? Did she even like Christmas? Has she celebrated christmas? Are we going to send out cards like as a couple? Because if we do I’m going to need to sign my name name instead of Nephili. Does Denali have a name name. Wait, of course she does. She said she need a long tongue for that. How long. And big teeth. Can she just do the tongue. How useful is it?

“Dens?” Nephili’s voice reach out before her train of through had even come to a safe and complete stop.

“Yes, Darling?” Denali turned to her, her long silver hair flowing like a stream of crystal water and her fiery eyes glowing like embers. She likes the house. 

Denali had come out in her “at home only” suit, which was a drapey satin pant suit with no structure that she often wore with no blouse underneath so that the glow of her blade she’d pressed into her torso as a tattoo for the time being. Easy access to the blade…amoungst other things. Nephili tried to clear her head. 

“What’s your full name?” Gods she wanted to see that tongue.

“It’s dreadful,” Denali frowned, “I have to make my tongue all long to say it.” 

“Oh,” Nephili chewed at her bottom lip, she already knew that “I’d still like to hear it. Even if it’s just once.”

Nephili had one trump card, it was reserved for only the most dire of circumstances. She looked up through her thick lashes, and her eyes grew. Not so much that she looks like a cartoon but enough so that she could see that fragile demoness willpower begin to crumble. It took six seconds. New record.

“Fine,” Denali rolled her eyes in faux, “I suppose it has been an awfully long time since even I’ve said it out loud. I-well, I’m going to-”

Denali paused, thinking.

“Get kind of toothy,” she finished with a frown.

“Toothy?” Nephili eyebrows went up.

“Yeah, for the long tongue to like move aroun- you know what,” Denali sighed, “I’ll just show you.”

Nephili watched as Denali’s face began to changed, her jaw elongating and growing monstrous. The skin on her cheeks stretched taunt and hollow, great big fangs forming and shifting around. And then came the tongue. It as long and agile, flicking around in skilled arcs. Huh. Nephili bit down on her bottom lip and rolled out her neck to remain respectful. That familiar pull on her lower stomach doing its best to thwart that effort. 

Denali finally spoke and boy was it horrendous, not because it wa a demon name but because her mother was a psychopath and it was sixteen syllables longs and halfway through there was a choking noise that had Nephili genuinely concerned for a breath. Now she understood why Denali didn’t use it. 

“Huh,” Nephili quirked her head to the side, her eyes dragging along that glorious tongue, “that was long as fuck.”

Unable to speak just yet Denali nodded and blinked in aggreance, her face already smoothing back out to that definitivel regal face Nephili had grown so used to.

“Sweetheart?” Nephili smiled sweetly.

Denali had just about finished contorting her face back.

“Keep the tongue out for a bit,” Nephili jumped up to her toes and pressed a chaste kiss to Denali’s cheek, smiling as she watched Denali’s feet lift just off the top of the snow, “you haven’t thanked me for decorating the house yet. I think I’d like a go with it.”

Nephili started back towards the house happy there was still a semblance of a path left by the dogs for her to walk though. It would be much easier to weaponizes her hips of she wasn’t having to trudge back through knee deep snow. 

She was going to get laid and then eat some damn cake.

This was going to be a merry Christmas, indeed.

#oc #ocs #oc writing #original writing #original character #sapphic ocs

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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