Slow PRIDE filled Life

Link to article: Slow PRIDE filled Life.

```
.text-blur { filter: blur(.175rem); }
```

font-family: Grenze Gotisch ; font-size: 1.25rem

```
text-blur
```
```
text-blur
```

[[include :scp-wiki:theme:oceanbound]]

[[module css]]
.text-blur { filter: blur(.175rem); }
[[/module]]

[[include component:preview
text=It was the first day of pride month. And that meant every night for the next 30 days, they were going to feast. They were going to love. And they were going to grow. ]]

[[>]]
[[module Rate]]
[[/>]]

The waves crashed on the shore as [[[Medea Filicidium| M]]] watched the setting sun in the distance. A deep red moon was rising into a sea of shimmering lights, the Milky Way flowing overhead. She felt the ripple of [[[Swallowed by a Prideful, lesbian sea |Carissa's]]] rematerialization before she heard her boots hit the ground. There was a pause, but even with a wall between them, M could tell she was stretching.

Carissa's fading footsteps announced that she had moved deeper into the cottage, to a place where she couldn't hear her anymore, but the feeling of soul, the burning of [[span class="text-blur"]]Artemis'[[/span]] thaumaturgic fire within her never dulled.

M pressed the glass of wine to her lips, sipping lightly.

She blinked, realizing after a minute the flames were gone. Her eyes widened slowly at the implication before arms wrapped around her middle as Carissa reappeared behind her. [[span class="text-blur"]]Artemis'[[/span]] flame suddenly burned brightly in her minds eye, tracing the full outline of her lover. Her wife's chin rested on her shoulder as they leaned against the railing.

She had her eyes closed, her ears went limp on the top of her head. The deep rumbling of a //purr// bloomed within her chest, as it pressed into M's back, vibrating them both. M tilted her head, resting it against her lover's. She closed her eyes, and basked in the warmth of her partner in the chilly air of New Zealand's winter.

There were no words. They didn't need them.

A dull //thump, thump, thump// filled the air. They both opened their eyes, fireworks bursting over Christchurch miles and miles away. Rainbow colors draped the horizon in slow falling waves. Gently, M guided Carissa over to the outdoor swing sofa.

Carissa briefly untangled, arms sliding past arms, fingers brushing against hips and thighs parting. She sat on the couch and then gently reached out and grasped M's hips, pulling her down into the catgirl's lap. The warmth of Carissa's breath rolled across her flesh. Then the gentle press of lips sank into the warm crook of her neck, lingering for a moment. They traced upwards to her cheek, as Carissa resumed purring.

Then Carissa pressed her lips to M's, a long slow kiss that burnt the night air like a bonfire.

The kiss slowly parted. M sighed with contentment.

They rested their heads against each other and watched the stars and the fireworks.

This was everything she had ever wanted. And that was enough.

-----

[[[All in All You're Just A 'Nother Brick in the Wall | Sherry Andrew's]]] stepped out of the haphazardly arranged bedroom in a shiny black dress, her crimson hair done up in curls, and heels that clicked on the tile. This was the one time of the year she would dress up: their anniversary. She only wished it wasn't at the tail end of an exhausting work week. The look on her spouse's face told her everything she needed to know.

The sandy haired, round faced enby's jaw dropped when she walked into the room. Despite the makeup, Sherry could see the purple bags underneath her eyes. Leep had cleaned up well in spite of her exhaustion: she was doing a fabulous job of working the tunic and knee high boots she currently wore.

"Hey hot stuff," Sherry said, her tired eyes roving over Leep's form. "Ready for our first date?" Sherry felt a warm ache in her chest. She quite enjoyed the reset, the roleplay they did every year. Treating the anniversary date like it was their first. But tonight? The ache in her chest? She just wanted to be held.

Leep blushed redder than a tomato. "Always," she said, standing and slinging a purse over her shoulder. The motion was almost hesitant.

"Long week?" Sherry asked with tired amusement.

"Scheduling pride activities, logistics requests, grant reviews. It never ends."

"Yeah." She stepped over and took Leep's hand, gently kissing the knuckles and making her spouse blush an even deeper shade of pink.

"The reservations are at 8," Leep said. Her posture loosened.

"Just enough time for us to get interrupted right?" Sherry said with a small snicker.

"Wouldn't be surprised. That's been the theme of the last few weeks." Leep's chuckles faded into a sigh.

A moment of silence, the weight of the past month weighing over the pair.

"I guess we should get going," Leep said in tandem with Sherry. They looked at each other, laughed, and stepped in for a short kiss.

"Do you really want to go out tonight?" Leep asked, holding her wife's hips.

"No, but you did already make reservations," Sherry responded, with a smile. Sherry looked into Leep's deep blue orbs. Past the horizons into her brilliant mind.

"I did... but it would be so easy to cancel." Leep squeezed her hand and hip affectionately.

"I don't know, it's really hard to get reservations to //Sotto//, you know, the best Italian restraunt in the city." Sherry squeezed back, her eyes crinkling in an affectionate smile.

And then the roll of thunder echoed in the distance. The turbulence of the Alabama summer setting in as the pitter patter of rain drops clinked against the glass.

They looked out the window as the rain started small and began coming down furiously. Mother nature seemed to have made the decision for them.

"Well that's an Omen," Leep said with a small laugh.

"Yeah I'd say not even mother nature wants us to go out. Raincheck then?" Sherry smirked at her own pun.

Leep laughed. "Rain check, lets light some candles, order a pizza, and watch a movie."

"Now that, sounds like a date."

-------

"Where are we going?" [[[Lets Get Physical | Triemedes]]] asked [[[Hotter than Hell | Alva]]], as they walked along a platform of endless asteroids shifting between dust and metal and rock. Nebulaes and stars swirled overhead, caught in an endless dance of rebirth and death. At their feet, next to the entirely illusory walkway that Alva conjured as they moved, a swiftly flowing stream of gas, rocks, and even stars flowed in the opposite direction of where they were walking.

"It's a special place," Alva said cryptically, and mischievously. Some things never changed.

They stepped through a nebula, the thick gasses obscuring all but a few feet ahead of them... though they weren't really feet. They were millions upon millions of miles. Triemedes reached out and took Alva's hand, not wanting to lose her in the fog of gas. The goddess squeezed her hand, looking back with those four golden eyes, crinkled in a way that matched the upturned corners of her lips.

Triemedes' chest burned with a hot flame that rivaled any of the stars they passed by or through. In that moment of looks she felt so impossibly soft. Vulnerable. It was that vulnerability that had hooked her so long into Alva's net.

They stepped out of the Nebula and found themselves facing the source of the river. Two great swirling galaxies above their heads, suspended on pillars of condensed rock, the force of their collision ejecting stars, rock and gas which fell down in great sheets, washing across a pool of sorts. It was bound by platforms that only really seemed to exist when they stepped within the area.

Lights danced across the plunging stream, rippling rainbows of emission. Alva lowered herself, taking a seat on the edge of the platform, and dangled her legs into the depths of the starstream.

Triemedes joined her, her long golden scaled legs dipping much further in. It was warm, surprisingly so, like a hotspring. The starstuff bubbled, the collison of particles thundering gently in front of them.

An arm wrapped around Triemedes' scaley waist, Alva's arm. The goddess looked at her with all that care, affection and flaming passion that had driven them both so long ago. This was the only love Triemedes ever wanted or needed.

"I missed you," she said softly to the Goddess.

"I missed you more," Alva responded in kind.

Caught up in a moment of emotion, and really not very good at dealing with it directly, she deflected and snorted. "What is this, a competition?"

Alva's lips curled up at the corners and her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. A smirk. "We could make it one."

"We could, that's true." Triemedes' cheeks colored as she teased back.

But both of those thoughts of entanglement, of dancing to each others beat on a bed of impossible size fell away. "What were you doing all this time? When I was... in the orb."

"A lot of things," she said with a sigh. Her green tinted skin was flush with heat and warmth. The texture soft and smooth. Alva turned her attention back to the starfall, and leaned her head into Triemedes' arm, and then chest when the Finnfolk warrior queen moved her arm to wrap it around Alva's hips. "All of it in the name of preserving life."

"Why don't you tell me about it?" Triemedes asked softly.

"In a little while, not too long. I want to sit and enjoy you for awhile." Alva closed her eyes.

"We can do that," Triemedes said.

She held her close as they watched the colors of the universe stream down.

------

Queen [[[Where There is Desire There is Gonna be a Flame | Hege Aquailian]]] of the Finnfolk walked slowly across the lawn of the palace. She walked away from the scaffolds and pillars of crystallizing metal that composed the reconstruction of the Royal Library. A number of books were tucked into her golden scaled arms. The inbuilt heaters had been cranking up for weeks now to emulate the summer their ancestors would have once felt under the true sun.

With the increasing heat and zest of summer, a certain atmosphere had settled over the city and the palace.

It was summer, and that meant that the Mither's boons were rising. One of those boons was fertility. With only a few hundred thousand of her people having survived the events 7 years ago, every birth counted. She'd put out mandates and economic boons for families that had lots of children in a very short time period. It was fortunate that the large number of returning military personnel had, in fact, been young couples still in the ripe ages for reproduction.

And her Advisors were desperate for her to produce heirs. Of course, how her father had never told any of them about her peculiarities she didn't know. They'd been quite shocked when they discovered her reality.

It wasn't that she didn't know what making love was, or what went into making children. It was that she just wasn't interested in the act.

She walked past a couple on the steps of the palace, they were kissing each other's gills. She almost didn't notice, as she was so lost in the thoughts and excitement about the books in her arms.

The climb to her quarters, a segmented tower entirely to herself, was unimpeded. The palace and Finnfolkaheem was... so empty. Of course Brynhild had been shadowing her the entire journey, but she always did.

"Have a good night your Majesty." She said, as they came to a stop at Hege's door.

"I will, Brynhild. Go, find yourself some fun. 'Tis the season," Hege said with a rare knowing smile that provoked the coloring of the other Finnfolk's cheeks.

She slid inside her abode denying her guard a retort. Further still she climbed up the tower, but deviated from the normal seclusion in her workshop.

Her bedroom called to her today.

She carefully removed her twine-like robes, exposing her scaled body, the scars of Aldrnari's symbol burnt into her torso born into the light once more. Her fingers traced the shape it had seared into her scales and flesh, and then down to the other scar. The slicing kiss of a cold metal blade shearing through soft tissues had left this one.

She sat on the bed and swung her legs onto the silken algal thread sheets, and pulled one of the books open next to her. Carefully, she removed her undergarments. She'd chosen wisely: a romance novel. It was a recommendation by one of her courters. A nice young Finnwife of a quiet nature.

Even though Hege was uninterested in the act, she had physiological needs.

So she set to work once more.

-----

"How did I let you talk me into this?" [[[SCP-4700 | Silus Smith]]] grumbled, as they walked into one of the few LGBTQ+ bars that wasn't a cramped hole in the wall. He wore tight pants, nice shoes, and a polo top.

"It's the same way every time. I offer to buy you booze and serve as your wingman. You help me attract danger." Jane was wearing black leather pants, platform heels, and a leather motorcycle jacket. Her eyes darted left to right scanning the bar occupants for any worthy of being her quarry.

Silus sighed, resigned to his fate. "What are you after tonight Jane?"

"I'm feeling a little adventurous," Jane said, her lips curling up. The eyes of most of the women in the place traced to her. She had her long black hair down out of its usual bun, brushed out, shampooed and conditioned.

"So?" He waited patiently as they stopped at the bar proper and ordered their drinks. Silus ordered several shots of tequila. Jane ordered some abomination of mixed alcohol and fruit juice.

"Surprise me, big boy. What are you after?" Jane asked.

"No bears," Silus said.

"Got it, twinks and femboys only." Jane grinned at him evilly.

He rubbed his face and temples. "Jane, you will be the death of me."

"Death by snu-snu is the most powerful way to go out," Jane insisted.

Silus put his head on the bar and groaned. "I should have gone into the private sector."

"But then you wouldn't get to have the joy of being around me."

Someone cleared their throat behind the two, and Silus sat up, turning his head to look. An attractive but twig of a man with chestnut brown hair and green eyes was standing there nervously. The anxious man worked up the courage to ask, "Uh... would you like to dance?" Silus could do much worse.

Jane's lips curled into a smirk. "Didn't even have to do anything. Have fun," she said teasingly, as she strutted away to a cute little blonde in one of the corners, who turned bright pink at her approach.

Silus turned his appraising gaze back to the young man, evaluating him. After a moment he rose. "Why not." He took the younger man's hand and guided him to the dance floor.

-----

Neon lights burned on the front of the building, pulsing music throbbing and audible out into the street. The Neon strobe on the front of this bustling and active nightclub spelled out 'The Evening Star'. It was an odd building, as it had been decorated to spoof an ancient mud-brick compound despite the blatant and obvious modern technology integrated in.

The dance floor within pulsed with light, hidden speaker thumping with bass and electronic tones as people of all walks of life danced, ate, drank, and laughed. Sitting in a booth on a dais on the second floor overlooking the entire club, and in turn visible to the entire club was Aleah Im-Immaru. She watched the floor below. A young man and woman clung to her arms, eyes closed, drinks half-downed. Aleah was warm to them, a furnace of comfort and affection.

She watched her sister. Abigail Im-Immaru leaned against the bar below, talking up several women at once. Abigail and Aleah were near identical, well defined jawlines, prominent noses, dark hair and deeply olive toned skin. Dark hair cascaded down their backs, and framed their large chocolate eyes.

The only difference between them? The lines on Abigail's face were more prominent, imparting a sense of being more aged and worldly. Lights danced on and under their skin, across their whole bodies. Neon limelights seemingly carved into the flesh and throbbing and changing with the changes of the light in the club.

Abigail was talking with a particularly shy blonde woman. The way her cheeks kept flushing told Aleah everything about the conversation. A subtle shift in body language, more openness in the way she held her arms. She was warming up. Aleah closed her eyes and basked in the affection radiating off the two people currently cuddling her, slurping it into her, feeling it bubble and flush her fingers with tingling power.

She turned her head and gently kissed the redhead, who was clinging to her arm. The woman let out a soft and surprised noise, leaning into Aleah's probing lips. The enby's hand went to the man, a feminine little thing, and stroked his hip, every touch of her fingers drawing more of that power into her authority. The lights dancing across her body pulsed as she swallowed their affection, their love and passion down.

She could feel Abigail below, her own flame, authority, pulsing with the power of the club. The way they were projecting that power outwards, there would be a cascade. It wouldn't be long before the entire premises broke down into couples sloppily making out. Of course they wouldn't let it get farther than that, at least not without closing the club down first.

The thought brought a small smile to her lips. Lips that were soon preoccupied pressing against the Redheads'.

It was the first day of pride month. And that meant every night for the next 30 days, they were going to feast. They were going to love. And they were going to grow.

Emily was going to have a fit.

But Aleah didn't care. Love was love.

[[span style="font-family: Grenze Gotisch ; font-size: 1.25rem"]]**Happy Pride.**[[/span]]

[[include :kaktuskontainer:drbleeps-author-sandbox-2]]

[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box]]
[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end]]

Slow PRIDE filled Life

Module Styles

Inline Styles

Includes

CSS Classes

Page Source