#Complex Forming Capabilities

[joyandella-123]

The Synergy of Robots and Press Brakes: Transforming Manufacturing Precision

In the ever-evolving landscape of manufacturing, the integration of robotics has become a game-changer, significantly impacting efficiency, precision, and overall productivity. One notable area where this synergy is making waves is in the realm of press brakes–essential tools used in metal forming processes.

Press brakes have been a part of metalworking for generations, offering the ability to bend and shape metal sheets with precision. Traditional press brakes operated manually, requiring skilled operators to adjust settings and oversee the process. While effective, this method often posed limitations in terms of speed, consistency, and the ability to handle complex tasks.

The arrival of robotics prompted a paradigm shift in manufacturing. Robots, equipped with advanced sensors, vision systems, and programmable precision, emerged as a partner to traditional machinery. In the context of press brakes, robots have become integral for automating repetitive tasks, enhancing precision, and enabling the seamless handling of intricate sheet metal designs.

Advantages of Robot-Enhanced Press Brakes

Precision and Consistency: Robots excel in executing tasks with unparalleled precision, eliminating variations that can arise from human intervention. This precision is particularly crucial in metal forming processes where accuracy is paramount for achieving desired shapes and dimensions consistently.

Increased Efficiency: By automating the loading, unloading, and bending processes, the integration of robots with press brakes significantly improves overall efficiency. Robots operate tirelessly, reducing cycle times and increasing the throughput of the manufacturing process.

Complex Forming Capabilities: The combination of robots and press brakes enables the handling of complex forming tasks that might be challenging for traditional methods. This includes intricate designs, multiple bends, and the production of components with high geometric complexity.

Safety: Robots—particularly cobots—are evolving into helpmates that can work in proximity to humans safely. By taking over repetitive and potentially hazardous tasks, they contribute to a safer working environment. This not only minimizes the risk of accidents but also allows human operators to focus on more strategic and complex aspects of production. They do the dull, dirty, and dangerous work.

Challenges and Considerations

While the integration of robots with press brakes brings numerous advantages, it is not without its challenges. Initial setup costs, programming complexities, and the need for skilled technicians to operate and maintain these systems are common hurdles. Additionally, there is a learning curve for manufacturers transitioning from traditional methods to automated systems.

As technology continues to advance, the collaboration between robots and press brakes is likely to evolve further. The integration of artificial intelligence (AI) and machine learning into robotic systems holds the promise of adaptive and self-optimizing manufacturing processes. This can lead to even greater efficiency, reduced waste, and improved overall production outcomes.

The fusion of robots with press brakes offers new levels of precision, efficiency, and versatility. While challenges exist, the long-term benefits far outweigh them, paving the way for a future where the integration of robotics becomes synonymous with enhanced manufacturing precision and productivity.

[lem0nademouth]

“i hate kamala harris too but -” i don’t hate her. why do you hate her? do you know anything about her policies? her prosecutorial history? voting records? and is this information that you got from reputable sources, or from social media? do you know what a prosecutor even is? are you capable of understanding the human capacity for growth and change? are you willing to extend grace to those forced to make impossible decisions that you will only encounter in hypotheticals?

do you hate kamala harris, or have you been told to hate her because that’s the “progressive” thing to do?

[natjennie]

YEYEYEYAHAHHHHHHHH emily blunt cocking that fucking shotgun at the end of a quiet place. the dopest move everrrrrr

[hottakehoulihan]

.

[dykedragons]

bro talking w other queer + autistic ppl is rlly a healing thang... like at work im usually pretty quiet and masking all the time but then i met an acquaintance who also works there (different department, i never see them) and it was like oh yeah! haha! im alive again! i remember how to speak! amazing!

[impossible-rat-babies]

listen someone on the bird hellsite mentioned WoL primals once and I haven’t known peace since

[m0onlustre]

The price of desire

You were his biggest rival’s assistant, yet you had something that could benefit him. So what happens when a transaction between your boss and him goes wrong and you find your way in between?

ᯓPairing: Sylus x female reader (afab)

ᯓGenre: rivals to lovers, smut, porn with some ooc plot, angst

ᯓWord Count: 4,4k

ᯓ tags - WARNINGS: mdni, reader isn’t the lnds!mc, explicit sexual content, alterations to the main story, toxic relationship, dr/y humping, t/easing, (lowkey) o/rgasm control, b/egging, f!receiving oral, p in v, unprotected sex, breath play, sensory play, spanking, mention of breeding!kink (toxic if you squint really hard), creampies, dom!sylus, use of pet names (kitten, sweetie), violence, mentions of blood and injuries.

ᯓnotes: This is my first published work here, it took me some time to write but I believe I’m content with how it came out. At first, the idea was to keep it a part one which is connected to an event of the series. Ending this part, I can think of some ways this can go, but I’d still want your opinion:) If you want to see more of this, please go ahead and ask. Any reblogs and likes will be appreciated.

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You were a dangerous woman, a fact well-known throughout the N109 Zone. As the assistant to one of the most feared men in the underworld, your reputation was built on the edge of a knife. 

But today, the real danger sat directly across from you at the table—your boss's most formidable and deadly rival: Sylus.

His silver-white hair fell messily over his forehead, creating a disheveled yet intentional look that only added to his unsettling charisma. A smirk played on his lips, while his crimson eyes held an unreadable intensity,  as he sat on the table with his henchmen on each side of him. Luke and Kieran.

You had done your research, uncovering every scrap of information about the three men before you. It was a challenge, of course; the leader of the most notorious illegal organization in the N109 Zone wasn’t one to divulge valuable intel easily. Yet you had pieced together enough to know the depths of Sylus's ruthlessness.

You were certain of one thing: Sylus would not hesitate to sacrifice anyone—including his own men—if it suited his purpose. The black-red tendrils of his mist would mercilessly end the person and he wouldn’t blink an eye while his lethal capability, capable of extinguishing a life in an instant, would take over. 

The only individuals he seemed to protect were Luke and Kieran, his unwavering henchmen, whose loyalty was both a strength and a potential weakness in this deadly game.

Everyone claimed that the twins were somewhat adopted by him—a complex relationship in which he protected and provided for them in exchange for their loyalty and services.

If you were being honest with yourself, you found yourself drawn to the twins. They exuded a carefree spirit that brought an element of fun, even in the context of business. You often wished you could shed your own uptight demeanor and embrace life as they did.

Your thoughts were abruptly pulled back to the present when one of Sylus’s men dropped two large armory boxes onto the table that separated your group from his. As the man opened the boxes, a collection of modified and illegal firearms was revealed, each piece looking as lethal as the man who had crafted them.

Dante, your boss, rose from his chair beside you to inspect the guns. After all, that was the purpose of this meeting—a trade, a business transaction between two men who despised each other's very existence, yet could not deny that, in times of crisis, their respective resources could prove invaluable to one another.

Dante provided the protocores, and Sylus expertly modified them. When Dante requested his part of the deal, the modified protocores were returned to him in the form of firearms capable of ending a life in less than the blink of an eye.

“Resourceful as always, Mr. Sylus,” your boss mused, but Sylus’s gaze was locked onto yours, seemingly ignoring Dante entirely.

“Oh, Dante,” he said, the man’s name dripping with disdain, “my little black heart is shattered into pieces. One would think you’d have learned by now not to question my methods or my work.”

You rolled your eyes at the silver-haired menace, your heels clicking against the carpet in a rhythm of impatience. You were growing weary of this standoff. Dante needed to state the agreed price and move on already.

“Set the price.”

Sylus’s smirk widened at Dante’s request, his eyes now fully focused on him. He seemed to stall deliberately, taking slow, measured steps around the room. His imposing aura filled the space, the coat draped over his broad shoulders swaying slightly with each movement. Finally, he came to a halt by the table, gripping its edge with both hands and leaning forward.

“Such a pretty kitten you have with you, hm?” he taunted.

Your gaze turned icy as Dante’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Are you referring to Miss Y/N?”

Sylus tilted his head to the side, his crimson eyes locking onto you once more, studying you with an intensity that made you uneasy. “You’re a foolish man, Dante.”

“What the hell did you just say?” 

You exhaled through your nose, frustrated by your boss’s inability to keep his pride in check when it came to Sylus. This man ran an entire organization yet seemed unable to handle a little provocation.

“I said…” Sylus drawled, relishing the moment, “you’re a foolish man. Only someone with the brain capacity of a goldfish would keep a pretty kitten like her uncollared.”

You shot up from your seat faster than lightning, leaning dangerously close to Sylus, your hand itching to grab one of the weapons from the boxes in front of you.

“You should watch your mouth when speaking to a lady, Mr. Sylus,” you seethed, your voice low but fierce. “Only a man with the brain capacity of a goldfish would disrespect a woman for no apparent reason.”

Sylus chuckled at your retort, a wide grin spreading across his sharp features, revealing his teeth.

“Feisty,” he mouthed, a smirk playing on his lips, meant only for you to see.

Just then, Dante stepped up behind you, and you almost forgot he was there until his hand landed firmly on your behind, giving it a squeeze. Your hand was so close to the gun that it took all your willpower not to reach for it.

Sylus's expression shifted, the amusement fading as his brows furrowed, re-centering on his forehead.

“Set. Your. Price,” Dante reiterated, his body uncomfortably close to yours.

You had served as his assistant for far too many years, becoming accustomed to his unpredictable behavior. Yet, deep down, he knew you wouldn’t dare act against him with all his guards surrounding him.

You were a capable assassin, more than capable of matching his malevolence, but you were just one woman up against his entire army. He was well aware of your skills, which is precisely why he always kept a close contingent of guards present during your meetings in his office. You were his most valuable asset, yet he was frightened of what you could do if pushed too far.

Despite this knowledge, he often seemed to forget the extent of your capabilities, choosing instead to provoke Sylus.

“Her.”

“No.” Your response was immediate, your tone firm. He couldn’t be serious.

Dante’s chest shook with laughter beside you, his golden teeth glinting in the light.

“She’s off the table, I’m afraid,” he added, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Very well, then.” Sylus retracted from the table and rose to his full height, a shadow looming over both you and your boss. “So is the deal. Have a good one, Mr. Dante.”

Your shoulders relaxed for only a brief moment, but before you could even blink, you found yourself lifted off your feet and thrown over the table like a ragdoll.

Fucking bastard.

Of course, the deal was too important for him to let it slip away. Sylus knew exactly what he was doing when he pulled this stunt.

“Don’t even think about it,” you spat, your voice harsh and defiant. “I am your right hand; your business will crumble without me!”

Sylus seemed to revel in the chaos, leaning casually against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest. As his black-red mist began to swirl around the room, it coalesced around your body, lifting you off the table and bringing you effortlessly to his side.

Your struggles were utterly futile. No power could match his evol.

“Bastard!” you yelled, directing your fury at your boss.

Dante let out a deep sigh, visibly irritated but choosing to remain silent. His organization was already on the brink of collapse, a fact known only to you—and apparently Sylus too. That was the reason he had recently struck a deal with Onychinus; only their resources could possibly uplift him now—if anyone could, that is.

“Always a pleasure doing business with you, Dante.”

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The plush sofa of his dimly lit living room felt uncomfortably rough against your bare thighs as you took in your surroundings. Your revealing dress had ridden up significantly due to the twins’ rough handling as they placed you there, while their boss prowled around the sofa like a predator circling its prey.

The record player in the corner emitted a classical melody that only heightened the unnerving atmosphere, each note echoing with an eerie elegance.

“So uptight,” Sylus whispered in your ear, causing you to jump as his breath brushed against your skin. You hadn’t even noticed when he had gotten so close. “My, my… and so jumpy, aren’t we, kitten? Just try not to scratch my ceiling.”

You turned to glare at him, and if looks could kill, he would have been slain by the fire in your eyes. Nevertheless, you managed to keep your voice steady. “Why am I here?”

He didn’t bother to meet your gaze as he sank into his enormous cushioned chair across from you. A black-and-red mist began to swirl around your body once more, and before you could react, it lifted you off the couch and positioned you right on his lap, straddling him.

“What the hell?”

His hand shot up, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Shh, just keep your claws sheathed for a moment.”

You could feel your patience wearing thin. “Why. am I. here?”

Sylus's jaw tightened slightly, and if you weren’t intently observing his every expression, you might have missed it. “Because, kitten, Dante and I had a transaction.”

“Isn’t your typical price protocores when dealing with my boss?”

“Typically…” Sylus’s gaze was fixed on your face as an eerie silence enveloped the room.

Before you could process his words, his hand snaked around your throat, pulling you closer. His eyes locked onto your lips, a predatory glint flickering within them.

“What are you doing…” you whispered, your body tensing in instinctive response.

“Show me, kitten.”

“What?”

Sylus chuckled softly, a mocking sound that sent shivers down your spine. “I know you’re a smart kitten; don’t play dumb with me. It won’t help you.”

Of course, you understood what he was implying, but how did he know?

“I have no idea what you want,” you replied, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

His hand tightened around your throat, making it increasingly difficult to breathe. Then you noticed it—the red glow of his eye—and you realized what he was doing. “Show me.”

Ironically, he was now in control of your actions, even though he sought the opposite.

You slowly removed your glove, compelled by the white-haired man in front of you. Your bare hand pressed firmly against his chest, and in an instant, his heartbeat ceased.

Your breath hitched in your throat.

You stared at his face, dumbfounded, as the glow in his eye faded and his complexion turned an ashen pale. Before you could comprehend what was happening, a low chuckle echoed through the dimly lit room.

Sylus’s chuckle. He was alive. Wait, what the hell?

His laughter grew more vibrant with each passing second as he took in your horrified expression. You shot your hand out again, daring to touch him, but he caught your wrist, tossing it aside with ease.

“Ravishing…” he breathed, his eyes darkening to a richer shade.

You watched him for a moment, trying to make sense of everything that had unfolded in the past few hours, until suddenly, everything clicked into place.

You gasped.

“You fucking bastard!” you shouted, fury igniting in your voice. “Is this why you didn’t take the protocores? Is this why you asked for me?”

Sylus’s arrogant smirk returned, dominating his features. “He wasn’t aware of the precious possession he had in his own house, sweetie. But I am.”

“You are… sick.” The expression on his face darkened, and something twisted in your gut, though you wished it was anything but excitement at his subtle praise. “You will not control me. I belong to no one.”

“Oh, kitten, I’m not trying to control you. This is just… a deal.” His eyebrows shot up, his face tilting slightly to the side as if he found your defiance amusing. “Isn’t business what you excel at? Or do you want me to believe it was Dante who called the shots?”

Your own expression faltered, but your body began to relax atop his, a fact he noted with a small, apprehensive smile that curled at his lips. “Are you trying to extract intel from me?”

He rolled his eyes at your tactics, a playful smirk on his face. “You are so gullible, kitten.”

He leaned in impossibly close, your breath catching in your throat and a shiver coursing through you as your body responded to his proximity. This was all so wrong.

“He didn’t value you nearly enough, sweetie,” Sylus whispered against your pulse, his warm breath sending a jolt through you. “But I can.” His teeth grazed your throat, and as your mouth opened, no sound dared to escape your lips.

“I…” You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “I have no idea what—”

In one swift movement, you found yourself perched on the edge of the chair, Sylus looming over you like a consuming inferno. Your chests were nearly touching, and his eyes held a dangerous allure as he stared directly into your own. “I believe you do.”

His hand drifted from beside your head, descending to your collarbone as his fingertips caressed the delicate skin with a featherlight touch. “You can end someone with just a touch…” he whispered against your neck, and you had to fight against the electric shivers coursing through your body. “I am the only person you can’t kill, even if you tried, kitten.”

Your mind was slowly turning to mush as his hand roamed over the sensitive swell of your breasts, his lips planting tender kisses against your throat. “Don’t you see where I’m going with this? We’re meant for each other. Kindred spirits.”

“You’re insane,” you wanted to accuse him, but your voice came out breathless, betraying your mounting desire. A soft grunt escaped his lips, a sound that only fueled the tension between you.

“If I’m insane, what does that say about you, sweetie?” He began kissing his way down from your neck to your collarbone, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. “I can smell your arousal from up here.”

You gasped at his bold accusation, your body jerking in response, but it only heightened the sensation as your clothed core pressed against his torso. You tensed, and his lips curled into a dangerous smirk. “So insatiable…”

“This is so wrong…”

“I’ve never been a righteous man.”

You leaned back instinctively, your hands reaching out as if to find comfort around his neck, but he halted your movement just before contact.

In your hazy state, you noticed him licking his lips, his gaze searching the floor for something—your glove.

“As much as I can’t think of another way to go, I’d prefer to be fully conscious when your pretty cunt is all over my mouth.”

“You’re… outrageous,” your voice faltered, betraying the rush of emotions coursing through you. Your body reacted in ways that contradicted your words.

“Do you prefer gentle, kitten?” Sylus asked, his fingers teasingly tugging at the neckline of your dress, unveiling your flushed skin. His tongue flicked over your right nipple, while his other hand caressed the neglected one. “Would you rather I whisper sweet nothings and cherish you gently?”

His tone dripped with playful mockery, and you arched your back, responding instinctively to his touch and taunting words.

“Would you like me to take it slow? To tell you how beautiful you are?” he teased, his laughter rumbling softly in the air.

Your resolve crumbled as he nipped at your sensitive bud, his hand expertly working the other. “No!” you moaned, your gloved fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, caught in the intoxicating desire in the air.

He growled against your chest, his body pressing forcefully against your legs as they parted to accommodate him. He felt a thrill of compliance wash over you, nearly tempting him to follow through on his suggestion to take it easy.

“More,” you demanded, your fingers tugging insistently at his head, guiding him downward to where your dress had pooled around your waist, leaving your red lace panties tantalizingly exposed.

Sylus grinned at your eagerness, his gaze lingering on your clothed cunt. “God, kitten…” he grunted, pressing his nose against the damp spot on your panties, a rush of heat flooding your cheeks as a thrill of shame coursed through you. “Did you wear my favorite color on purpose?”

His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Or did you wear it for him?”

You could only whimper in response, arching your body desperately to bring his face where you craved it most. Instead, a sharp sting greeted your cunt, your eyes widening as a gasp of surprise escaped your lips.

He slapped your pussy again, his expression darkening into a scowl. “Answer me, kitten. Did you get all dolled up for him?”

You clenched around nothing, the possessiveness in his tone igniting a deeper need within you. “No,” you whimpered softly. “It wasn’t for him.”

In an instant, he tore your panties away, his mouth descending on your cunt, his tongue skillfully lapping at your folds. “Good girl. Good fucking girl.”

Your fingers clawed at his shoulder, sounds of pleasure escaping you uncontrollably as he toyed with your sensitive clit. “Such a sweet pussy,” he grunted against your core, sending shivers through your body. You slid down the chair, his face pressed firmly against you, your lower body lifted almost into the air. His strong arms wrapped around your thighs, hoisting your legs over his shoulders as he devoured you.

“Say my name, kitten.”

You felt yourself teetering on the edge, already giving him too much. “N-no.”

His teeth grazed your clit, sending waves of pleasure and frustration coursing through you as he slid one finger against your entrance, teasingly. “No?”

“No.” Your voice trembled, betraying the mix of emotions swelling within you as you neared your release with each stroke of his tongue, yet your stubbornness held firm.

“Very well, then.” In an instant, his mouth was gone, leaving you feeling cold and exposed as he stood to his full height.

“What…?”

Sylus leaned over you again, delivering a sharp slap to the side of your breasts that made you squirm and gasp. “This is my zone. My side of the board. Here, you either play by my rules and win, or you go against me and lose.” His voice was low and commanding as his hand reached down again, sliding two fingers inside you, curling them to find your sweet spot. “What will it be, kitten?”

By this point, your entire body felt like it belonged to someone else. “Please…” Your voice was laced with desperation, the plea spilling from your lips, unrecognizable even to you.

“Please what? Just say it, sweetie,” he urged, a teasing glint in his eyes.

His fingers quickened their pace, and your legs trembled under the mounting pleasure, each mewl that escaped your lips a symphony to his ears. “So—Oh my god… S-so close.”

The moment he sensed your walls beginning to clench around his fingers, a satisfied smile crept across his face, and you returned it through a haze of bliss—until you felt him start to withdraw.

Your hand shot out, wrapping around his wrist with a desperate grip, pulling him back toward you. “Sylus!” you cried, your stomach twisting in knots as sweet release threatened to crash over you.

“Sylus, yes, oh my god, yes…” You were barely coherent, the words tumbling from your mouth, but Sylus grunted, his pants taut against his rock-hard cock.

“That’s it… That’s it, sweetie, I know. Drench my fingers; they’re all yours.” He moved with an urgency that took your breath away, thrusting deeply inside you, sending shivers through your entire body as you rode the wave of your climax.

You panted, your chest rising and falling heavily. As the haze began to lift, your mouth fell open in awe, watching Sylus suckle on his fingers, his eyes glowing with satisfaction as he savored your essence.

A fresh wave of slickness coated your folds, and Sylus cursed under his breath as he stood, taking you with him. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your bare, wet cunt smearing against the fabric of his pants, leaving a tantalizing mess.

The coarse material of his attire heightened your senses, making your body arch in his arms as you ground your hips down, chasing that blissful friction.

“So eager…” he whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin before he nipped at your earlobe. “And so fucking wet.” He strode toward his desk just a few feet away, easing you onto your feet. “I’m going to devour you.”

In one swift motion, your belly pressed against the polished surface of his mahogany desk, your body bent over, your ass perfectly positioned for him. He didn’t allow you a moment to breathe before two sharp slaps landed on your cheeks, your body jolting forward in response.

Your moans filled the air, driving him wild, and the way your back arched instinctively shattered any semblance of his control.

You heard the unmistakable sound of his zipper, and a thrill raced through you as his cock was freed from its confines, teasingly brushing against your entrance.

Turning your head over your shoulder, your eyes fell on him, and a rush of desire coursed through you. He was enormous, his veins prominent and pulsing, the tip glistening with precum that trickled down, landing directly on your cunt.

“Sylus…” You brought his attention back to you, and the look on your face made his brows knot slightly in concern.

“What’s the matter, sweetie?” he asked, his voice thick with lust yet surprisingly calm. “Do you want me to stop?”

You placed your hand lightly against his abdomen, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, and shook your head. “No, it’s just…” Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson, almost mirroring the color of his eyes. “It’s not going to fit.”

Sylus paused, momentarily dumbfounded, before releasing the breath he had been holding along with a low chuckle. “We’re going to make it fit, kitten.”

Skepticism flickered in your eyes, and he noticed.

“Do you trust me?”

“No.” You answered honestly. He had been your rival until now, and you couldn’t fully grasp how your dynamic had shifted to this moment, you bent over his desk, spread  and exposed.

He grinned, shaking his head in amusement. “You shouldn’t.”

In one powerful thrust, he was inside you, and your eyes rolled back in your head as pleasure surged through your body, overwhelming your senses.

“Fuck!” you cried out, but there was no pain—he seemed to know exactly how to plunge into you.

“Shit… You’re so tight,” Sylus growled, his hips slapping against yours as he took you roughly, driving deep against the surface of his desk. “It would’ve hurt more if I’d taken it slow, sweetie.”

It was becoming increasingly difficult for him to speak, but even if he could, you wouldn’t have heard him. Your mind was consumed with the exquisite fullness of his cock filling you completely.

Your eyes crossed as he continued to thrust in and out, your lips parted in a silent gasp, drool escaping the corner of your mouth and trickling down to the polished surface of his desk.

“Cock-hungry little whore,” he grunted, folding his body over yours to penetrate you even deeper. “And you claim you hate me.”

“I d-do,” you managed to moan, your legs trembling from the intensity of the sensations.

“You hate me, yet your sweet cunt is squeezing my cock like it’s her lover.”

Your mewls and whimpers grew louder with each thrust, your head spinning from the overwhelming pleasure. “Sylus…” you moaned his name, urging him onward toward his own release.

“What is it, sweetie?”

“I-I’m… s’close. So so close.” Tears were welling up in your eyes, and Sylus moaned deeply behind you as he felt your cunt squeezing him, clenching around him like he belonged there. Because he did. 

His hand shot up, wrapping around your throat as he kept pounding you from behind, his whole desk shaking from the force of his thrusts. You were sure a bruise would form on your abdomen where it made contact with the wood. 

Your eyes rolled as he applied more pressure, making it difficult for you to breathe. “Such a pretty kitten…” He moaned in your ear. “And now she’s collared. As she should be.”

Your orgasm broke through you with a new force, the tears escaping your eyes and your cries lulling Sylus to fall on his own release right after you.

“Fuck.” He moaned, his teeth clamping down on your shoulder. Rope after rope of cum filled your cunt, his thighs shaking slightly from behind you as he emptied himself inside you. 

You were so overstimulated and sensitive by your encounter when Sylus caught his dripping cum from your thighs and pushed it right back in.

Your legs threatened to give out, your mind clouding the moment he began to fill you with his seed once more. “Such a pretty cunt, used and bred by me,” Sylus murmured, his voice low and possessive. “What will your boss say when my kids are running around his base, huh?”

You weren’t even aware of how or when it happened, but suddenly you were moaning his name, sweet and desperate, as you drenched him once again. This time, the force of your release was blinding, your vision fading to a brilliant white.

Confused, you turned to see Sylus, his abdomen glistening with your essence, his fingers slick and dripping as he stared at you with a manic edge in his eyes.

“Oh my God…” Heat rushed to your cheeks as the realization of what you had just done washed over you. “I’m sorry… Sylus, I’m—”

Before you could finish, his hand pressed firmly against your lower back, forcing you back into position as you tried to shrink away from his gaze. “Kitten…” His voice was taut, barely contained. “We’re not leaving this room until you do this again.”

[kairologia]

Your untapped talents according to your fifth house.

In traditional astrology, being Venus’ joy, the fifth house is (among others) a signifier for natural talents, as well as hobbies you would enjoy most or thrive at.

Which are yours?

· Aries in the 5th house (Sagittarius rising): you possess a proficiency in competitive or energetic sports and activities, a natural ability to lead a team, an uncanny ability to face & overcome your fears, as well as high stamina & endurance. Steadfast in your beliefs and capable of debating in their favour anytime of the day.

· Taurus in the 5th house (Capricorn rising): you’re naturally talented in gardening & cultivating a beautiful, lush & luxuriant outdoor space, effortlessly skilled in arts like painting, sculpture, or pottery, and excellent at cultivating artistic talent in others (would make a great art professor).

· Gemini in the 5th house (Aquarius rising): you have unrivaled storytelling and writing skills, an innate versatility in performing arts such as acting or comedy, & skilled in employing incisive language to convey complex ideas or emotions. You may have a talent for photography, drawing, or manual/visual arts.

· Cancer in the 5th house (Pisces rising): you’re skilled in acting out intense scenes or writing emotionally charged stories, talented in interior design and making every new place you inhabit feel like home. Usually talented in cooking &/or baking. Great swimmers too.

· Leo in the 5th house (Aries rising): Leo fifth houses are highly creative in fashion-related endeavors such as designing clothing items or costumes, have natural flair for performing arts and a natural ability to captivate an audience or command attention. Great at improvising and coming up with stories on the fly.

· Virgo in the 5th house (Taurus rising): you’re talented in crafts like knitting or woodworking, editing or artistic critique, photography. You’re the go-to person for event organization & planning. Skilled at DIY crafting projects, scrapbooking, manual creations such as jewelry making or ceramic works. Great debators, too.

· Libra in the 5th house (Gemini rising): you have outstanding diplomatic skills & are capable of negotiating your way through just about any situation. You're skilled in creating harmonious compositions in visual arts or music. You would definitely enjoy ballroom dancing, painting, & decorating spaces. You also have a natural sense for aesthetics & beauty.

· Scorpio in the 5th house (Cancer risings): you would make a great taboo/erotica/crime fiction writer or visual artist. You're also talented in writing intense and charged scenes or lyrics, & are capable of evoking strong emotions through artistic expression. You would probably enjoy investigating mysteries & delving into occultism.

· Sagittarius in the 5th house (Leo rising): you’re amazing at inspiring others through creative expression, great at documenting experiences through photography or journaling whether in remote destinations or within your hometowns & making the mundane seem interesting. You’d make a great writer of philosophical or esoterical fiction or analysis.

· Capricorn in the 5th house (Virgo rising): usually great at forms of art that demand focus and discipline. you're the type of person that can master more than one classical instrument if you were to put your heart into it. You would enjoy collecting antiques as a hobby, & have potential to be an eloquent & articulate speaker & writer.

· Aquarius in the 5th house (Libra rising): terrific at advocating for social change & making unheard voices feel heard through artistic or creative expression, and creating experimental or avant-garde works. Potential great musicians. The type of person who can turn even the blandest looking items into something uniquely gorgeous.

· Pisces in the 5th house (Scorpio rising): you have an innate versatile talent at anything creative as you’re capable of creating immersive artistic experiences that can even cloud the senses. Potential talent for dancing, occult or spiritual pursuits and intuitive painting as well. Would definitely enjoy swimming & marine life exploration.

P.S : one configuration cannot describe your entire experience. you may not relate to certain points, as you have had life experiences that shaped you and an entire chart consisting of inextricable elements that need one another to make sense.

Click here for readings !

[dead-boys-club]

†  do you love me? : the fatui.

❥ scenario: their mute s/o asking if they love them. ❥ no triggers ❥ i don't have any beta readers - you get what you get. ❥ requested. [ my pending isn't updated, it's a liar. ]

you had thought over it for a while, curious as to where you actually stood with your lover, no.. partner? did they love you? as your curiosity grew to a sickening need for an answer, you decided to write your question down, small and neat; 'do you love me?' before approaching to hand the paper off.

❥ la signora.

as she took the paper from you, you'd be unable to read her expression, something that was awfully common. you couldn't help but become slightly anxious as a few moments of silence went by, giving her the time to process the question. you had learned that signora was a very complex someone, someone who was guarded and difficult to read, but you had grown to understand those things about her. when she finally looked to you, there was a warmth in her gave and she set the paper down, now folded in half. she wouldn't have much to say, a simple 'yes' being whispered, full of sincerity and adoration for you, even if her expression didn't match. she reached out to cup your cheeks, the touch tender with her gloved hands, and she leaned to press a kiss to your forehead. it wasn't easy for her to express how she felt but she would never allow you to live with doubts on how she felt for you.

❥ scaramouche.

unlike signora, scara's response would be heavily complicated. he would be reluctant to take the paper to begin with, his expression immediately showing discomfort and clear distaste. love had never been something that worked out for him very well, nor did he understand it as much as others - love was one of the reasons his life had been filled with betrayal and manipulation. he was wary of emotions to begin with but love held a different kind of weight - it was almost like the word alone left a bitter taste at the back of his throat. he would quickly narrow his sharp eyes, masking the vulnerability with agitation. 'what kind of stupid question is this?' it would have hurt you had their been any malice to his tone. even as he crumpled up the paper and tossed it away, you could see some type of softness slipping through the cracks. it would take time but after a few minutes, he'd glance to you, gaze softening slightly. 'i don't know,' he admitted, voice quiet as he decided to be honest, 'i don't know if that's something i'm capable of but.. i don't hate you, if that's what you're worried about.' for scara, that was the closest thing to a confession you'd be getting and you understood and accepted that. besides.. he was a lot better with his actions than his words, even if he didn't realize.

❥ childe.

childe is always happy to accept your notes, be it during full conversations, asking him about missions, and so forth. with that happy expectation, he took the paper, only to falter briefly before a warm smile formed. 'of course i do,' he answered without hesitation. he'd wave the little piece of paper between two fingers before setting it down, 'this is a silly question.' he wasn't being demeaning, just pointing out what he thought - hoped - was obvious to you. his arms would find their way around you, hugging you close to lift you off your feet with a soft chuckle. 'why would you even feel the need to ask that?' childe had always done everything in his power to make sure his love was open and honest, being hidden from no one because he never wanted you to doubt him. he would actually wonder if he'd done something wrong that lead you to asking but it would be put on the back burner for later. 'you're one of the most important people in my life,' he whispered as he set you down, pressing a kiss right below your ear, 'and, i'll always love you.'

❥ dottore.

you knew such a question could leave you with an aching heart but you'd prepared yourself before hand, knowing the day you agreed to be the doctor's lover, it may not be in such a manner. as he took the paper from you, he read over it with an impassive expression, which you'd expected nothing less. minutes passed as he worked through your question. love was not something dottore considered valuable - emotions, in general, were considered a hindrance to him. love, most of all, was the worst there was. the paper was set down without an answer as he returned to his work, leaving you lost and hurt, despite knowing this would be the outcome. you began to turn on your heel to leave when he glanced to you. 'love is a trivial thing,' he said coldly, almost bitter. 'it's a distraction and a weakness.' you stopped yourself from frowning. contrasting his words, as you looked closely at him, you found something - a hint of conflict that told you there was more he wasn't willing to acknowledge. dottore never was one to answer things directly but his actions - his way of keeping you close, keeping you safe and granting you attention in ways no one else was allowed - that was enough, you decided.

❥ arlecchino.

she would take the paper from you and take no time in reading it, her expression calm. she isn't brought to emotional response easily - you were sure you'd never seen her flustered. she set the paper down with a thoughtful hum before looking at you, her gaze gentle. 'love isn't something i give easily or take lightly,' she answered, steady and serious, 'but if i didn't care for you deeply, you would not be here.' in another of situation or context, you'd have taken the words as a threat but instead, they calmed any frayed nerves. arle's way of showing how she feels is protective and pragmatic, something that doesn't rely on cheap words. she wouldn't give flowery words or pointless gestures - but she would make sure you felt valued in your relationship. 'yes, i do.' she finally admitted, her tone leaving no room for doubt, even as she turned away from you. 'you are mine, and i protect what's mine.'

❥ columbina.

immediately going off of your facial expression, she knew she didn't need to read the paper to know the type of question you had, a gentle, knowing smile forming. columbina is the most attuned to emotions, her own and others, especially yours. she would quickly be able to feel the vulnerability and doubt behind your written word. without hesitation, she collected your hand in her own, making sure to hold your gaze. 'yes,' she said easily, 'i love you more than words will ever be able to express.' columbina leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek. 'you needn't doubt that,' she whispered, letting your hand go only to pull you into a hug, her eyes closing, 'i always will, beloved.' her love was soft, open and nurturing, a presence that never ceased and you almost felt guilty for doubting her. she had done her best to make sure you felt cherished and adored and she would continue to do so.

❥ pantalone.

he wouldn't question why you were suddenly handing him paper but he would be curious, eyes shining with interest as he read the question. panta is a man who sees emotions as secondary to his ambitions and goals, especially with his wealth and power. however, he wouldn't hesitate to admit that you, are different. this may be something that lead you to thinking you were more of a possession than a lover - he would be smart enough to figure out where the doubt blossomed from. folding the paper neatly, he set it down and let a thoughtful smile show, turning his attention to you. 'love, like any valuable asset, is not something i take lightly,' he began, head tilting slightly, 'but you, my dear.. are more precious than anything to me.' reaching out to you, his fingertips brushed over the apple of your cheek. 'yes,' he answered directly, 'i love you, and i will make sure you never doubt that again.' like the others, panta's love is often expressed through actions - keeping you comfortable and safe, your happiness being of utmost importance to him.

❥ il capitano.

he would take the paper without a second thought, reading the words slowly and feeling the weight of them. it would take him a moment to find how to answer, knowing if he was careless, it would bring you unnecessary hurt. love has never been something capitano was accustomed to, not when his life was outlined and defined by duty, loyalty and the cold fate of a soldier. he briefly wondered if love was something he could feel or understand. would he know if he was in love? after what seemed like an eternity, he would slowly set the paper down and look to you, speaking just as careful. 'love is a concept i have little experience with,' he began, his tone apologetic, 'i do care for you, deepy.. your wellbeing, your happiness. i want to keep you safe.' his answer would be straightforward, almost as though he was searching through his own words. he wished he could use the same pretty, poetic words he'd heard in passing, but that wasn't possible. 'if that is love,' he nodded slowly, 'then, yes, i do love you.' he wouldn't be as confident in those words as he wanted to be but he felt as thought it was as close to what you wanted to hear as he could get.

[tanalolo]

Why does this concept exist that people who have a complex idea of morality and who sure as hell are not like the villains (as in sadistic beings who enjoy other's sufferings) and at the same time not the heroes too (cuz their actions sometimes directly or in a domino effect have brutally harmed people and sometimes they act out of emotions like pride/ego in making decisions), in other words morally gray characters, cannot love (others) cuz they only love themselves?

Like mostly the trend goes - they're cursed with intelligence, make choices technically for collective well being in a twisted way, add in some time actions totally driven by self interests, immense ego, misunderstood as fuck...like the whole idea that their characters exist is to portray the middle ground between black and white...and yet there exists a v.popular interpretation that they cannot love as they r too selfish to do so which is like canon wise blatantly false. Yes, all their actions don't emerge for well being of the people they care for but doesn't mean they don't love. I just don't get why do people have this idea of love that one individual if they love someone they've gotta like sacrifice huge shit and always take the like most righteous decisions (totally not denying lines do get blurry between healthy and toxic)...I mean the whole reason why the characters exist is to show their dilemma not like something as they straightaway are incapable of loving, like their brain doesn't allow love kinda shit.

[interstellarrisa]

Some subconscious fun

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You might've heard people saying that are our brain is amazing and capable of astounding things and well they're not wrong. Your brain is the most complex organ in the body with billions of neurons that have trillions of connections called synapses that makes it able to communicate, with this information how can we say that it's not amazing?

Our consciousness is thought to sit at the cerebral cortex and is said to have three levels to it. The conscious, subconscious and unconscious. They're all tasked with different things. I'll explain them all...

The conscious: This is the part that we have control over, our thoughts, feelings, decisions and acknowledgement are all made here. It's what you're using right now to read this post and also where the awareness of you reading this post is. Basically thoughts, feelings and awareness.

The subconscious: It's not in the current focus of our awareness hence called the subconscious mind. It's a barrier that's put up by our mind so that we don't become overwhelmed by all the information that we get when we interact with this world. For example our nose in the center of our vision, the feeling of our clothes or our tongue resting on the roof of our mouth. Because of this barrier we're allowed to focus our awareness on more important decision making and cognitive tasks without getting overwhelmed. This can be noticed when we decide (conscious) to pick up a new skill which can be hard to learn and do before we become a natural at it which then makes it an automatic (subconscious) skill.

The unconscious: It's perhaps the most mysterious form of consciousness since it's not available for introspection or analysis. We do know that it's a hoard of feelings, thoughts and memories lost from our conscious mind, it contains the painful past that we might simply want to forget about. Some people say that we never forget and that it just get's buried deep down within our mind and with the right signals we can recover the forgotten memories.

Now to the fun part. It's a small "experiment" that you can do every night just to see how amazing your subconscious mind truly is. Firstly I haven't found any article's stating that this is your subconscious minds doing, some say it might be your circadian rhythm (internal body clock) but I personally assume that it's your subconscious and if you know loa let's just go with it.

The experiment is you controlling when you wake up. You might go "really, that's it?" but when you first do it and it works it'll feel a bit 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂, anyways here's what to do.

Go to bed. Doesn't need to be nighttime you just need to go to sleep for this.

While falling asleep tell yourself that you'll wake up in xxx hours/minutes. For example you go to bed at 00:00 and want to wake up in 8 hours, naturally that would be 08:00 so just affirm "I will wake up in 8 hours." or "I will wake up at 08:00"

Drift off to sleep~

Wake up and check the time and it should be the designated time.

This is actually a technique used a lot in lucid dreaming method's and could also be used in shifting/manifesting/void method's. Since the brain is just like a sponge when you wake up it absorbs any kind of information presented it with and sometimes induces "hallucinations". I'd recommend shorting the time you sleep if you're gonna use it as a method though. It's also pretty similar if not the same to SATS.

This has worked for me on multiple occasions and if you wake up and the time doesn't match when you wanted to wake up it might be because you already woke up earlier and just went back to sleep and forgot about it later, happened with me a few times but because of signals I remembered. I even got rid of my alarm for school because of this and I still woke up in time for school.

warning: if this post does NOT resonate with you or your beliefs feel free to ignore it, you don't need to send hate or make posts on how stupid this is or that it's wrong. some might misunderstand this post (like the last one) and make misguided comments, please think a little before you open your mouth :). yapping session is cause i'm really interested in this topic lol.

[deception-united]

Let's talk about strong female characters.

And, more specifically, the problem with them. Don't get me wrong, I am all for a fierce leading lady who can hold her own in any situation. Inspiring, intimidating, capable. All-around badass. But it seems like lately, every other female character we meet is cut from the same warrior cloth, and it's starting to feel a bit predictable.

First, let's give credit where credit is due. The influx of strong, capable, and independent female characters in recent media is undeniably empowering. Seeing women take charge, wield swords, and save the day sends a powerful message to audiences young and old: girls can do anything. And that's a message worth celebrating.

However, there's a flip side to this trend that's worth examining. In the rush to break away from the tired old tropes of delicate damsels in distress, it seems like some writers have swung too far in the other direction. How many recent female protagonists can you name who aren't strong and independent? Who have weaknesses that they aren't afraid of showing, or aren't able to hide? We're seeing a lot of new male leads with these characteristics, which is great, but it's like we've traded one stereotype for another.

All this results in a lot of one-dimensional female characters. I want to see girls who are witty, goofy, immature, sensitive, cocky. While it's great to see women kicking ass and taking names, it's also important to remember that strength comes in many forms.

One of the things that makes characters truly compelling is their complexity. Sure, it's empowering to see a woman single-handedly lead or defeat an army, but what about her flaws? Her insecurities? Her moments of vulnerability? Those are the things that make her relatable, that make her human. That makes her resonate with readers.

Take the classic "strong female character" archetype and add some depth to her. Maybe she's a skilled warrior, but she's also quick with a sarcastic quip. Or perhaps she's fiercely independent, but she's also afraid of being vulnerable with others. Or maybe she's not. Maybe she's not strong or independent or fierce at all. Maybe her strength lies somewhere else. Give her layers, give her contradictions, give her flaws.

And let's not forget about the other roles that female characters can play. The witty sidekick, the comic relief, the immature goofball, the sensitive soul—these are all valid and important character types, and they deserve to be represented just as much as the badass warrior woman.

So, to all the writers out there: by all means, keep giving us strong female characters. But let's make sure they're more than just stereotypes. Let's make them human. Let's give them depth and complexity and nuance. Because in the end, that's what makes a character truly unforgettable.

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[cuntylestat]

i saw the tags on this post i made and i find this super interesting because i don't think the problem was actually that he just doesn't have enough light - it's a hindrance for street photography, sure, but a tripod and a shutter cable could solve that and you can take creative approaches to street photography to outweigh the lack of light. you can also shoot in well lit interiors, you can use faster lenses, faster film, etc. you could even pivot to a different type of photography. of course, as technology advances, this would become less of a problem and light is important in photography, but that's solvable. people have made and continue to make great photography in the dark. the pictures that turn out to not be taken by louis are mostly taken at night or inside.

partly, it's down to louis. as dreamstat says, louis is impatient and doesn't take the proper care, e.g. by cleaning his lens, framing his shot with care, taking enough film, or sticking around to try out different compositions in different conditions.

but this is something that he could train himself to do. the real problem (as the dealer points out) is that the compositions do not say much. louis doesn't have "the eye." the photograph they discuss is not good because it was shot in daylight, it's because it tells a story, there is depth to the image, the subjects are framed in a way that it lets you interpret the meaning. it's human.

however, it also goes deeper than that. louis cannot connect with humans to properly picture them or tell their stories because he's a vampire, and therefore there is no relationship that goes beyond predator and prey anymore. he is separated from humanity at this point, even if he doesn't want to realize it. he cannot (and does not) want to stick around to get to know humans, make a connection with them. he finds the idea of doing that preposterous and impossible - they're sustenance and not interesting enough for him to actually invest time and interest in them. i think he likes to think that he is interested in humanity, and that's why he tries to capture them on film, but really, the gap between him and them is too big at this point.

and then there's this excellent point that @feedingicetothedog made in this post. vampires are mimics but they cannot create. louis can recognize the story when it's in front of him in form of a picture, but he cannot recreate it in his own photography because he's no longer human.

so i don't think that, no matter the technology, louis will ever be the type of photographer he wants to be, the one that captures people and human life, its essence and its complexities and its emotions. he's not capable of that anymore because he's a vampire.

[esoteriamaya]

Astro thoughts : short n sweet <3 moonshinin' <3

Moon in the first house - Very empathetic sweet creatures. Def could be used a lot by people that they love and trust because they can be very giving to their energy a little too much. Attractiveness is through the roof as their auras are usually more open. Very smooth, soft bodies and have an innocent energy around them majority of the time. Its hard to stay mad at them.

Moon in the second house - They need time alone so they can get their thoughts in check. This is a taurus ruled house, so sometimes their emotions can be thru the roof, but they can be extremely level-headed/grounded with the way they move through their circumstances. Money can flow to them smoothly if they keep their focus high on the prize. Other wise, they can be duped by peasants with their fortune if they are not careful.

Moon in the third house - Very practical, intelligent nature. Honest and self aware. Very deep and can bond with anyone if you let them. Truly can keep you on your toes with each convo they have. Can talk to much, or can be way too quiet No in between. Can make a friend outta anyone tbh.

Moon in the fourth house - Light hearted nature. Very sweet and kind to anyone they meet but they keep to themselves a lot. They do NOT like too many people in they're space and it is a treasure to meet them AND to have them around 24/7 because they do not like being around just anybody. You gotta be more complex to get to know them, they are truly a one of a kind. Mysterious nature.

Moon in the fifth house - Great actors. Have a lot of gifts in the arts and could soothe people's emotions with them if they allow their vulnerable side to show. Children LOVE them and are usually inspired by them. The personality of this individual is raw, gentle and nurturing and they must be protected.

Moon in the sixth house - Boundaries is a big thing for this group. Gotta keep their energy in check because they can almost be like in hermit mode. Needs friends that understand their nature to keep them balanced. Animals and plants are their best friend.

Moon in the seventh house - Can have issues with lovers do to their high intensity with their emotions. It's almost like people can't see them for who they are and theirs a lot of potential of a transformative love. With the moon shining its light here, they are almost capable of turning anyone into a special relationship if the chemistry permits.

Moon in the 8th house - Beautiful souls that have a gift in penetrating the minds, souls and bodies of the people they meet. They have internal woes that never seem to make it to the sky, but they know how to water them and make them grow in the ground. True balance is needed with them so they almost always are going thru dark nights of the soul just to get them their. They have a lot to learn, but also so much to show to themselves and others as the journey is a long beautiful one in the end.

Moon in the ninth house - Captivating souls who are needing to bond with people who can change the perception of their mind through the eyes of travel or simply growing in this lifes journey. They know a lot about their favorite topics and would love to share it with anyone who wants to listen to them. Calming auras who enlightens you with the way they think, and are meant to teach and inspire in some way, shape, or form.

Moon in the tenth house - The sweet talkers of the group. The audience just adores them. You really can't stay mad at them for to long. They have sensual energy and people feel this right away. Celebrity energy. Secretive by nature. Most don't know a lot about you, even if your emotional state is in full view to everyone. Masters of manipulation, don't say I didn't warn you ;)

Moon in the eleventh house - Can make friends as soon as they walk out of their house. Shy and reserved in new environments but tend to be a lot sweeter and open up when their comforted. Has a unique presence and a distinctive style. Could almost convince anyone of anything as their looks and attraction tends to make people look the other way.

Moon in the 12th house - Alluring. Majestic. Spontaneous & a wanderer. Protect these children at all cost. There is more than what meets the eye. They attract a lot of people like bees to honey. But flies like you too. Can't let everyone in, they don't know what to do with you. Gotta be more open with being yourself, no matter how mysterious you come off. Boundaries are needed for this group since they are more prone to evil eye as their secretive by nature. People are always trying to spy on them and see what they have that they don't.

[solbaby7]

I love the blurb bar idea and I loved the pina colada one, how about a neat gin n tonic with a salt rim?

[ forced proximity: “you can’t seriously be insinuating that i should sit on your lap.” + smut + az ]

guys i got carried away 🫣🤭 but at least it’s finished and has minimal spelling errors 🤍🩷

-> BLURB BAR <-

To put it quite frankly, you and Azriel didn’t really get along.

It seemed almost easy for everyone else in the Inner Circle to latch onto him; to gravitate towards him and all his shadowy mysteriousness—but not you. Between his victim complex, lack of self-control and the inability to properly communicate his feelings like a normal person, you’d lost your patience for him long ago.

Maybe that’s why you laugh right in Rhysand’s face after he lays down the guidelines for your temporary deployment to the Steppes. Everything sounds perfectly normal up until the end when Rhysand’s lips form the words, “—and you’ll be going with Azriel; he’s already been briefed.”

“Very funny,” Shoulders shake through your laughter, tickled from the joke. “But, you don’t have to go to such lengths just to make me laugh Rhys.”

Your grin fades comically fast and the deep frown that takes it place doesn’t falter long after you’ve left the High Lord’s office and scrounged back to your own chambers to pack. Every move is mechanical, clothes being folded and stuffed away a little rougher than necessary as you try not to think about having to spend seven whole days holed up in a creaky cabin with some brooding bat.

To be fair, Azriel seems no happier than you about the situation, his signature brood securely in place when you meet on the balcony at the witching hour with bag in hand. “Come—let’s get this over with.”

You refrain from commenting on his attitude; hold yourself back from snapping when he snatches your duffle from your grasp just to watch it disappear in a puff of sentient shadow. They’d almost be cute—Azriel’s shadows—if they weren’t so fucking useless. Capable of procuring intel and acting as camouflage but can’t manage to hold two fae long enough to get them to the Illyrian mountains.

No, instead you were subjected to this. Close contact and his fucking hands holding onto your body as he flies on a route you’re unfamiliar with. You eye his wings cautiously, trying to be subtle when you peek over the strong line of his shoulder but being this close? He can feel every beat of your heart against your sternum. Every squirm and twitch of a limb as you try to find a more comfortable place to put your arm. “Will you stop moving?”

“I can’t help it,” Hips shift once more, one leg hitching just a little higher on his hip. “Your fucking daggers keep poking me.”

Azriel tenses up, muscles locking and suddenly you’re being moved how he pleases—both legs wrapped around his waist and a firm forearm clasped around the base of your spine. “Stay.” His voice is rougher than your used to, his blunt nails biting into the sliver of skin exposed to the elements. “Don’t move, we’re almost there.”

That was a lie—it would take hours to make it to the Steppes but the gruff command is surprisingly easy to follow. And while you’ll never verbally admit it, the secure bracketing of his arms around your body was more of a comfort than a nuisance. It’s all too easy to ease into his grasp, allowing sleep to take over until the journeys over and you swear you can feel him cradle you in closer, his nose ghosting over the crown of your head.

He makes absolutely no comment on it when you finally arrive with your hair ruffled, clothes crinkled and the imprint of Azriel’s syphon on your cheek other than a chuffed out, “You snore.”

Instinct screams at you to make some snappy comment back but reason doesn’t allow it to be voiced—not here. Here, you and Azriel would have to appear as a united front, for the males raised in this terrain were bred to sniff out any and all weaknesses to exploit. Only here do you allow the hand that permanently glues itself to the dip of your back, pushing you past rabid animals swollen with pride and snarling with hatred.

Slurs are spat from their lips but Azriel doesn’t pay them any mind, so you don’t either.

He walks through the camps as if he owns them, spine straight and shoulders square. Strong wings stand proudly behind him, shadows guarding your flank until the unforgiving chill is replaced by the stuffy warmth of a mess hall. It’s cramped—a little dirty and smells like a mixture of male and tobacco but either way you’re given a warm meal and fresh water to drink.

The vulgar comments grow more frequent, mutterings of their unwanted appreciation towards your body so sickening that your appetite threatens to scurry away. “They’re disgusting.” You scoff, setting down your tray of food, one hand curled around the chair.

It doesn’t give. Azriel’s boot curled around the leg holds it in place. Arched brows furrow at him, nose scrunching under the effort it takes not to kick him in his shin but there’s something about his body language that make you stop. “They’ll keep doing that shit if they think you’re free game.” Every syllable is clipped; laced with a wildness you’re unfamiliar with—almost as if he’s insinuating that it’s your fault that such brutish males were salivating at the sight of you. Darkness cloaks the hazel tones of his eyes when he meets your own and you nearly miss the gesture he makes.

One hand patting twice at his lap.

“Absolutely not.” Azriel’s boot shoves the seat away completely when you make a move to sit down on it once more. He settles deeper in his own, thick thighs manspreading as deft hands adjust the positioning of his holsters, guiding sharpened weapons away from the area of space he frees up for you. “You can’t seriously be insinuating that I should sit on your lap?”

“I’m not insinuating anything, this is me telling you—sit down.”

You pray he doesn’t see the blush that burns against your cheeks when you take a seat in his lap, his hands resting along the sides of your hips. He keeps eating as if nothing is new. As if he doesn’t realize the way his touch has you squirming against solid muscle through thick leathers, legs subconsciously parting to make more room for the wandering fingers that slide down your thighs, digging into sensitive inner thighs. “What are you doing?” You ask, barely able to grab at the food before you with the way your hands shake.

“I’m sending a message.”

Breath catches when you feel Azriel’s thigh flex between your legs, pressing against your sex in such a way that you’re certain it’s impossible that he hadn’t felt the way you clench in response. “What kind of message?”

“The kind that says someone already owns you.” People are looking, that much you know—can feel their eyes tracking every move. Azriel’s hand splayed over your stomach, his head tucked in the curve of your shoulder as his free hand spies its way through your breeches. There’s a pause, one where you’re time to push him away, to declare that this was entirely too far and smack him clear across his face.

That doesn’t happen. Your legs only part further, making more room for needy fingers to shove past your panties.

It’s a foolish decision, you can feel it the second you make it. As if you’d just unconsciously confirmed the ridiculous notion that you were one of Azriel’s possessions. To do as he pleased. To sit there splayed out across his lap like some puppet and allow him to take the reins and show off all your tricks until you’re boneless and drooling.

He’s too good with his hands. Too slick with the sly filth he mutters into your ear as he fondles at your clit under the table, pressing firm circles into the bundle of nerves until you’re panting like a bitch in heat.

You barely remember how much you hate him when he touches you like this. Until the orgasm fades and your consciousness clears and even though the way you lean into the dip of his neck appears like some typical lovers embrace—bystanders fail to hear the sharp way you sneer, “Tell anyone about this ever and I’ll fucking kill you.”

[spookygibberish]

Funeralworms comprise a genus of Juggernaut characterized by a heavily-built, serpentine form, the absence of eyes, a single pair of broad, paddle-like forelimbs, and a prominent array of individually articulated, crushing jaws. They are employed in the disposal of organic materials, the production of high quality fertilizer, and the reclamation of Ibis tissue from corpses. The latter function earning them a central role in Bibat funeral rites, hence the name.

In Bibat, it is believed that Ibis tissue, while a powerful creative force in life, is equally capable of corruption, especially when touched by death. It is therefor not adequate to bury the Ibistouched, since Ibis tissue, if allowed to decompose, has the potential to render the earth fallow and breed illness. By consuming the Ibistouched dead, Funeralworms collect the Ibis tissue from the flesh, freeing it from corruption, purifying it, and accumulating it in their bodies to be returned to the Oracle System. It is mandatory that the corpses of all dagnyds, Sansin, Thrones and Throne-children both headless and unbodied alike, be fed to the Funeralworm. This is not a necessary funeral rite for those who are not Ibistouched, but the devout often choose to have it preformed upon their death. If a funeralworm is not available, cremation is an acceptable alternative.

Funeralworms are semi-aquatic dagnyds that reside entirely in special pools (bymūt)constructed for their housing. At their least elaborate, bymūt are little more than shallow ponds dug into clay soil, but they are often encircled by a low, stone fence with an offering platform at one end, and a chamber for dung collection at the other. These pools are usually located several kilometers from areas of habitation, although many larger cities have grown to encircle bymūt that were originally constructed a more acceptable distance away. These tend to be the most elaborate of their kind, ending up with bespoke temple complexes erected around them. As the functions of the Funeralworm are deeply linked to Bibat customs, their husbandry is entirely handled by Sansin, though the service they offer is a public one.

The design of the bymūt is necessary for the survival of fully mature funeralworms, who are not only so large as to be incapable of freely moving over dry land, but risk being crushed beneath their own weight without the support of water. Newborn funeralworms, at about a meter and a half in length, are the most mobile of their kind, and often attempt to escape their bymūt to explore. This is usually permitted (with supervision), as such young individuals have limited processing capacity, and rarely exist in a context where the sole burden of waste management relies on them. Many Sansin are sympathetic to the plight of the Funeralworm, and see little purpose in restricting the movement of a creature which never approaches agile at any age, and for most of its decades long life will be confined to a single small pool.

Despite a life spent entirely in water, Funeralworms are entirely air-breathing, and are not particularly good swimmers. They are protected from flooding by the high fat content of their bodies, which renders them buoyant and unlikely to drown. The greatest risk floods pose is temptation. Rising water allows Funeralworms the opportunity to travel freely from their bymūt, and many die after becoming stranded once the water level recedes, especially those which are particularly old and heavy.