#Differential Gears

[pddparthi]

Unveiling the Power of Epicyclic Gearboxes: From Basic Principles to Advanced Applications

Introduction: The world of machines is driven by gears, and within this realm, the epicyclic gearbox, also known as a planetary gearset, stands out as a marvel of engineering ingenuity. This intricate system of interlocking gears offers a unique ability to achieve both speed reduction and torque multiplication, making it a cornerstone of various applications. Whether you’re fascinated by the…

[gwinverarrouz]

My object head OCs whomst I almost never draw, haha. I like them! They just... don't really have stories, so I don't think about them a lot compared to some of my other characters.

The last three were art pieces I made for past editions of the Object Head Zine (these ones are free for all, you can download them!), and the dates written on the first set actually correspond to when these were finished. So 2017, 2019 and 2021. ^^

The middle row is from last year's inktober, thought it'd be fun to include them too. Different styles~

[irregularjohnnywiggins]

Something I've been considering recently: the big storytelling difference between Hideo Kojima and Yoko Taro.

There's an obvious reason I've been thinking about this, I feel: both these guys are, on the surface, exceedingly similar. They're both well-known Japanese video game creators*, they're both known for their eccentricities, they both tell stories that run the razor-thin line between 'Violence is corrupting and immoral' and 'Okay, but that bit of violence was pretty sick, right?' really well, as well as throwing in some really funny 'Hey, what the fuck did I just watch?' energy, hell they even both had a game in their series directed by Platinum Games, I don't especially think this is an overreach, here.

But they are different creators, and I've been thinking about their differences (specifically in storytelling - obviously one makes Action-RPGs and one makes Stealth Games and Baby Postman Simulators) as I play MGS3 and Nier Replicant, and I think I've come down to this: it's in how they condemn violence, and especially war.

Kojima bases all of his stories in reality - a heightened reality, perhaps, but there's a reason multiple MGS games end with long lists of dates and events, Kojima's made-up ones slipped in-between the actual history. Kojima bases his critiques on things that are real and tangible - MGS3 itself, more than any bee-wielding supervillain or photosynthetic sniper, is about the Cold War, and it's no accident that the Boss' speech at the end isn't about the Philosophers, or Volgin, or Metal Gear (METAL GEAR?) it's about soldiers, their fates and their traumas. Kojima lives in the world of... not exactly reality, but allegory-through-reality, and it makes his games pretty explicit in their messaging - which in my mind is a good thing, because it means that people who fundamentally misunderstand MGS aren't just wrong, they're obviously wrong - show me an MGS fan who thinks they're pro-America and pro-military, and I'll show you someone who did not pay attention to MGS.

Yoko Taro, on the other hand, is entirely a creature of allegory. Yoko himself has said in interviews that he tells stories primarily as a way to get people to feel something, and all other things like connections to the other games or even internal consistency comes as a secondary concern (as someone who's tried multiple times to tie everything Drakenier related together - that's believable.) As an inevitable result of this, his stories aren't really 1:1 parallels to history or the modern day, they're very general conflicts that speak to a wide range of topics.

Put it this way: in MGS4, Kojima describes in great detail a situation that is the natural endpoint of the geo-political situation (especially re: America) during most of the early 21st Century, especially The War on Terror - instead of war being a means of obtaining resources to generate income for big corporations, now war is the means of income, and all the inherent flaws of American late-stage capitalism have been applied to it - to the point that soldiers have to pay extra to use someone else's gun. It's a heightened, at times absurd version of reality, but it focuses on specific issues and flaws with the subject matter - The War on Terror, and through them highlights issues with our current world - hell, Kojima may have predicted some of the issue we currently face with capitalism.

In Nier Automata, however, Yoko doesn't present an exaggeration of a real-world conflict to portray it's flaws and its hopelessness. Instead, he constructs an entirely hopeless war, a war that is literally pointless on every side, and explores how people react to that. As opposed to Kojima's slight exaggeration of the War on Terror, by the end of Automata Yoko has presented a proxy war fought on behalf of two races that died off millennia ago, between two groups that are, at their core, exactly the same, made from the same components, fought on one side because of a poorly worded instruction from their creators that necessitates eternal total war as a basic fact of their evolutionary cycle but also inevitably results in their evolutions being violently purged because any form of passivity is betrayal, and on the other as a grand Machiavellian scheme to kill off their own troops, thereby concealing the deaths of their creators – a scheme, it’s worth noting, conceived of by an android that no longer remembers conceiving it, because his own scheme necessitates his constant assassination by the person he cares about the most to prevent him from discovering his own plan. Kojima's wars in MGS4 are absurd and pointless for us because we know what the results of the War on Terror were, Yoko's war in Automata is kinda like an onion - every layer you peel back on it, you discover a new way that it's pointless, and every time you do, you're crying a little bit more.

So, wrapping this up before people realise I just used the ultimate cliche of poorly-worded food metaphors, if you were to ask me what the big difference between Yoko Taro and Hideo Kojima was... well, I'd still go with the gameplay genres, but I'd also say that it's a slight, but really interesting, difference in how they go about their metaphors. As for which is better... neither, obviously. They're both really talented creators, this is just a style thing. You seriously expect me to choose between a series that includes 'a man pretended to be possessed by the ghost of his crush's son because he grafted his arm onto him and everyone bought it' and a series that includes 'at some point the Earth stopped spinning. This has never been explained in any of the games'? What are you, a cop?

*albeit if Yoko ever heard someone compare him to Kojima he'd probably simultaneously die of embarrassment and make a joke about being a younger, hotter Kojima.

[robinsonprojection]

Ja'erengehi - The Old World

This is a partly incomplete map I thought was good enough to post, since I probably will not continue working on it. It was a valuable experience just drawing textures and figuring things out about compatibility and forest texturing as I went, since I did not plan any of this thing out beyond the basic borders, which are copied from a old map I drew like 7 years ago.

In any case, the world is a Pokemon themed one, specifically in the vein of Pokemon Mystery Dungeon games, where no humans are present.

Here are the two maps it is based on, the one on the right was drawn with crayon on note cards taped together, while the one on the right was an incomplete redraw/expansion that I never finished, but which charted out a bunch of stuff which is retained into the current one.

Feel free to ask me things about the world in the notes.

[kaatiba]

My cat had surgery and they took what they thought was a cyst out but. Turns out it's cancerous.

[rohirric-hunter]

Update on the Deadly Defender's Bow situation: according to the LotRO companion, there are a total of eleven bows that share this appearance. Two of them, however, I believe are not actually accessible in game, the Ashwood Recurve Bow and Tanglind, leaving me with nine options. I've put detailed information about each bow under the cut, but the short summary is this:

In Eriador, I might be able to find the Deadly Defender's Bow. It seems to be intended as a sort of Ultimate Weapon for level 40 characters, and has been in the game since very early in its development. My suspicion is that it was intended for "endgamer" players before Angmar was even open, and that I will actually find it on level 37-40 enemies, rather than 40 and above (as it isn't terribly uncommon in early game areas to find gear a few levels above whatever you're actually fighting, so you can "grow into it"), so I've been hunting around the endgame areas of Evendim and the Trollshaws, but without much luck on either count. Some challenges include the fact that the game doesn't appear to consider Gauredain to be "humanoid" based on the loot they drop (or rather the loot they don't drop), so I've pretty much been restricted to Angmarim and a handful of tomb-robbers in Evendim and the wights and hillmen in that one tiny corner of the Trollshaws.

In Moria and Lothlorien, there are 5 possible bows that might have the appearance I want: the Bow of Bluffing (58), the Masterful Bow of Extermination (52), two variations on the Supple Bow (59), and the Swift Bow (54). From my brief excursions into Moria I also think these might be found on enemies a few levels below the actual bow's level. Also, none of these names are unique. There are lots of bows with these names in Moria. There's more information about that below the readmore.

And in Mirkwood there are 3 possible bows: a different Bow of Bluffing (62) and two more variations on the Supple Bow (63). Again, these aren't unique names, more information below.

I'm not asking anyone to go on a hunt for this bow (I've been hunting for this bow for almost two years with no luck) but if you do see it, please let me know, and any information on where you got it from is much appreciated! This is the appearance I'm looking for:

(Low quality screenshot but it's the bow new Hunter characters hold during the first stage of character creation. And beautiful. Look at how beautiful.)

More information about each bow under the cut, as well as links to their LotRO Build cards for even more information.

Deadly Defender's Bow Rare item Item level: 42 Min. level: 40 Bind on Acquire

Ashwood Recurve Bow Rare item Item level: 75 Min. level: 75 Bind on Acquire Note: The LotRO Companion includes a table of scaling information for this item which I believe it didn't include a few months ago (though I could be misremembering), showing scaling information from level 45 to 140. It's possible it's in incorporated into scaling loot tables, possibly to facilitate item drops in missions, though unlikely, as it still has the -10% Fire-arrow Miss Chance attribute, which still, as far as I can tell, doesn't refer to an actual skill in game. LotroBuild seems to indicate that this is a Hunter skill of some sort, but I have no idea which one, and still categorize this item as "probably obsolete" and "most likely just the item that the character creator screen references." (Besides, why would there be a level 75 bow with specific references to Hunter skills when level 75 Hunters ought to have a LI? That would be silly. Although to be fair I got all the way to 120-something before I sat down and really put work into getting myself a proper LI.)

Bow of Bluffing I* Rare item Item level: 58 Min. level: 58 Bind on Equip Note: According to the LotRO Companion, this item can sometimes be found in level-appropriate wooden chests.

Bow of Bluffing II* Rare item Item level: 62 Min. level: 62 Bind on Equip Note: According to the LotRO Companion, this item can sometimes be found in level-appropriate backpacks, corpses, and wooden chests.

Masterful Bow of Extermination* Rare item Item level: 52 Min. level: 52 Bind on Equip Note: According to the LotRO Companion, this item can sometimes be found in level-appropriate wooden chests.

Supple Bow I** Rare item Item level: 59 Min. level: 59 Bind on Equip Note: According to the LotRO Companion, this item can sometimes be found in level-appropriate wooden chests.

Supple Bow II** Rare item Item level: 59 Min. level: 59 Bind on Equip Note: According to the LotRO Companion, this item can sometimes be found in level-appropriate wooden chests.

Supple Bow III** Rare item Item level: 63 Min. level: 63 Bind on Equip Note: According to the LotRO Companion, this item can sometimes be found in level-appropriate backpacks, corpses, and wooden chests.

Supple Bow IV** Rare item Item level: 63 Min. level: 63 Bind on Equip Note: According to the LotRO Companion, this item can sometimes be found in level-appropriate backpacks, corpses, and wooden chests.

Swift Bow** Rare item Item level: 54 Min. level: 54 Bind on Equip Note: According to the LotRO Companion, this item can sometimes be found in level-appropriate wooden chests.

Tanglind Legendary item Item level: 35 Min. level: 35 Bind on Acquire Note: This is a Hunter class item. It's also the only non-rare item on the list. A level 35 legendary item is already a bit odd, but it gets odder; it appears to be part of a set of level 35 legendary weapons that all share similar brief descriptions along the same lines: Tanglind's is, "Bow Song, legendary Elf-bow of Forest of Brethil." There is also a crossbow, Ferediron, which is class-restricted, but aside from that none of the other weapons are class items, although a few of them are unique. My suspicion is that this series of weapons were meant to be rewards for some kind of quest or deed in game that was never implemented, especially since the inconsistencies in construction make me feel like the series isn't even properly finished yet. And nobody I've talked to has ever found any of these weapons in game. (I wonder if they might implement them as rewards for class deeds, now that you don't get trait points from that anymore? Or something similar, anyway.) In any event, I'm not spending any time looking for this one.

*Items marked with a single star do not have unique names. There are lots of bows in the game with this name. However, if they only have a single star they can be differentiated by their level and rarity: the only rare quality bow of that level with that name has the desired appearance. **Items marked with two stars cannot be distinguished by their level and rarity: there are several rare quality bows of that level with that name and not all of them have the desired appearance.

[parasolids]

the other day my dad asked me if i knew what a car differential was. i am a car engineer i was like of course i know what a differential is. and he was like ok what's a differential then but the thing is id just gotten off overbooked/missed/delayed flight hell and had spent 24+ hours awake so i started explaining the transmission to him, realized my mistake, and then just stared blankly at him while my brain played mental images of car wheels turning at different angles and gave me the word "ackerman" and absolutely no other words i could get out of my mouth to prove to my dad that his car engr kid does in fact know what a differential is

[broken-clover]

Could we get hcs about how ky got yassified in strive? Like, who did this to the good christian boy /j?

Pfft, I guess that's a decent enough question. Although as someone who originally came into the series with Xrd, Ky's Strive design definitely felt like a hard step back into more 'masculine' traits than I was used to! To be honest, I still think he looks a little weirdly broad, but that's sorta how everyone looks in Strive, so not like it's too bizarre. Maybe he's just finally getting some food in him for once.

The fact that the whole Xrd series and onwards is set so close together makes any changes significantly funnier, like within a month and a half of adopting two daughters and thawing out his wife Ky decided to dive headfirst into his Hot Dad Era (although saying it aloud, maybe he did actually do it for Dizzy...?) I'm certainly not complaining, though it does very much feel like a sudden, drastic change for him wearing dark, skintight outfits with cleavage when we're so used to see him in clothes that were both almost always white and very layered and flowy. I wonder what made them decide to go in that direction? Sol certainly didn't have a change that drastic, so I can't say it was that they both switched. My semi-serious answer is either that Dizzy thought it was cute and/or Sin thought it was cool and Ky wanted to impress them.

Tbh I blame most of the characters looking so pretty in strive on the hair physics. I mean, come on. It's nuts. Everyone's so shiny and silky and it just makes me mad that I can't touch it. Even Axl got the fabulous hair treatment, and he's supposed to be the resident dumpster ferret

[coconut-window]

wild how the new diablo season is starting literally right when my semester ends

[copperbadge]

AI Scraping Isn't Just Art And Fanfic

Something I haven't really seen mentioned and I think people may want to bear in mind is that while artists are the most heavily impacted by AI visual medium scraping, it's not like the machine knows or cares to differentiate between original art and a photograph of your child.

AI visual media scrapers take everything, and that includes screengrabs, photographs, and memes. Selfies, pictures of your pets and children, pictures of your home, screengrabs of images posted to other sites -- all of the comic book imagery I've posted that I screengrabbed from digital comics, images of tweets (including the icons of peoples' faces in those tweets) and instas and screengrabs from tiktoks. I've posted x-ray images of my teeth. All of that will go into the machine.

That's why, at least I think, Midjourney wants Tumblr -- after Instagram we are potentially the most image-heavy social media site, and like Instagram we tag our content, which is metadata that the scraper can use.

So even if you aren't an artist, unless you want to Glaze every image of any kind that you post, you probably want to opt out of being scraped. I'm gonna go ahead and say we've probably already been scraped anyway, so I don't think there's a ton of point in taking down your tumblr or locking down specific images, but I mean...especially if it's stuff like pictures of children or say, a fundraising photo that involves your medical data, it maybe can't hurt.

If you do want to officially opt out, which may help if there's a class-action lawsuit later, you're going to want to go to the gear in the upper-right corner on the Tumblr desktop site, select each of your blogs from the list on the right-hand side, and scroll down to "Visibility". Select "Prevent third party sharing for [username]" to flip that bad boy on.

Per notes: for the app, go to your blog (the part of the app that shows what you post) and hit the gear in the upper right, then select "visibility" and it will be the last option. If you have not updated your app, it will not appear (confirmed by me, who cannot see it on my elderly version of the app).

You don't need to do it on both desktop and mobile -- either one will opt you out -- but on the app you may need to load each of your sideblogs in turn and then go back into the gear and opt out for that blog, like how you have to go into the settings for each sideblog on desktop and do it.

[kyumisyumi]

Tentacles and Tendrils

Shaking off the rust and giving monster smut(writing in general) a shot again.

Prompt: monster partner is in rut/heat and the partner has to deal with it

Rating: 18+

Monster type: M!Merfolk x F!Reader

Word count: 6k

~Taking requests~

     You stare out at the unending, blue horizon. The cool ocean breeze preparing you for the temperatures of its water as you linger along the edge. You wore the company certified diving gear: a wetsuit, mask, BCD, the works. A spear weighed down one hand while a cylindrical container weighed on your shoulder. Hope and pessimism fought to be at the forefront of your mind as you scan the empty waters with heavy disappointment. This area was always relatively vacant, but not too far off you can spot a duo entering the water with matching gear. Their actions take you out of your haze, and with another gauge check you finally approach the water. Getting a feel for the sea's surge, you make your way in. And with practiced hands you slipped on your fins before turning to greet the seas with outstretched arms.

     Beneath the blue your body instantly goes into autopilot. Swimming was as natural as walking and these seas might as well have been a second home; a wayward beauty that will switch it's mood at a moments notice but home nonetheless. You took it all in, familiar as it may be, the ocean never stopped being a sight to behold. A world beneath our own full of wonderful blues, outstretched greens and terrifying blacks. The current had a bit of force behind it but nothing near the cruelty you knew any large body of water could deal. Your darting eyes couldn't help but search around, scanning everywhere for even just a hint of... There! You moved with haste. As much as you could as a land dwelling animal in aquatic terrain. You didn't get far before the shape you eagerly chased revealed itself to be just a particularly thick and unruly swatch of seaweed. You sigh internally before resolving to begin your original task.

     Nearing a gorgeous station of coral, you couldn't help but linger and watch the busyness. Schools of varicolored, itty bitty fish swimming through the equally colorful pseudo-flora. Despite your love for marine life, you never quite learnt the names of all the little guys much less how to differentiate between them, say for a handful that stick out. Your interest was usually for the larger lifeforms mother nature had to offer; you smiled as you watched a wary grey eel eye you with suspicion. Soon your eyes fell upon your reason for being here. It's bright red colors were slightly muted by the depths, with white tiger stripes outlined by black to break up the pattern. Its form was lined with spines and frills that flowed and fluttered with each graceful swish of it's body; an absolutely gorgeous creature. You readied your spear. The black strap trigger pressed into your skin as you carefully aimed, hoping not to hit anything but the target. It helped that the lionfish lingered in one spot before you speared it. You moved to put it in the container before opting to offer it to the eel you saw earlier. As gorgeous - and delicious - as they were, these guys were invasive here and the effects of their persistence was a constant strain to the native wildlife. They seemed highly concentrated around this sandy patch of substrate, driftwood and dead coral. It didn't take long after the first few kills for one of your friends to make their way over. Gently, you caressed the top of the nurse shark eyeing your spare eagerly, this one you named Lisa... or maybe it was Madeline. It was no surprise your face blindness extended to animals as well, even the cute ones that made your dives feel a little less lonely. The creature began gliding and swirling around you. You liked to believe the fondness was mutual but it was equally likely they were just in it for a meal. You speared another lionfish and offered it to the grey and white cutie.

     The spot you were in. The shark. The scenario. It brought back the memory of the first time you saw him.

     Back then you were collecting lionfish, same as now with a duo of nurse sharks tailing your every movement. At the time you were overly cautious, so you'd sit in one place, removing the venomous spines of the fish before handing them over. You could see him out of the corner of your eye, he'd been there for quite a while, watching you. From his position partially behind the rocks, you'd think he was hiding -or rather, on the defensive- but you just can't imagine something that big and powerful hiding from tiny 'ol you. Yes you had a spear but you doubt it would do you much good if he decided to attack. Merfolk. Given your job at the Aquatic Wildlife Center you were relatively familiar with them. Your company was more than welcoming when programs were made for them- as well as the other species- who showed interest in coexisting during the realm migration. The Merfolk you were familiar with, however, had to undergo numerous lessons on etiquette and culture to live among humans. The one near you now... The word 'feral' came to mind. You didn't quite like using such an animalistic term towards something that looked a little too human, someone that you knew had equivalent intelligence. His skin was primarily muted greens with a burst of parchment white down his chest and undersides of his arms. Unlike the fish tails merfolk were known for, this one's body ended in a myriad of tentacles, not unlike an octopus. Height wasn't exactly something you could measure but in terms of body mass he was more than twice your own. He seemed to tense any time you held direct eye contact so you settled on keeping him in your peripheral and keeping your movements slow and measured. You're not sure what he wanted but if he was content to just watch you, you didn't mind.

     The next time you went out for a dive he'd made another appearance, this time resting on the rocks instead of behind them. Looking at the way his tentacles gently swayed against the current, you realise the way they'd writhed restlessly the day before may have been a sign of anxiety. It tickled you that somehow, in his mind, you were a threat to be worried about. You'd never even been in a proper fight. His relaxed demeanor gave you a bit of courage and you contemplated offering him one of the lionfish but ultimately chose not to. Doing so would feel as though you were treating him like an animal at the petting zoo. Then again, he was watching you like an animal at a regular zoo, keeping his distance as if he thought you'd lash out at any opportunity. You focused on the task at hand. Either the sharks had developed more patience or they were full from yesterday, this time they seemed more interested in dawdling around and getting pets than playing Russian roulette with your spear. You'd gotten into a rhythm of pull, aim, release as you moved slowly across the sandy substrate with him never too far behind.

     On the third day he was almost as close as the sharks were. There was still a respectful distance but you'd only have to reach out your hand to touch him. Despite your determination to hold strong as he approached there was a hint of fear in your eyes when he first got closer. He wasn't threatening but the size difference was all to blatant up close, his chest so broad and arms so thick you didn't doubt they could snap you in half like an oatmeal cookie. In response he seemed to try to make himself look smaller, drifting at a lower level so that his head wasn't much higher than yours. This gave you a good look at his features, he had round pupils unlike the rectangular slits you associated with octopi, his sclera was a light grey and his irises a saffron yellow on downturned eyes. He didn't seem to have any patchwork of iridescent scales like your work colleagues. His eyes aside, everything about his face was sharp, from the hooked nose to the prominent chin and brow bone. As curious as you were, you tried not to look any lower than the slits along his neck; gills, in case your gaze made him uncomfortable. You briefly wondered if he'd try to say something once he got closer but he didn't, he just looked back with a gesture you interpreted as 'continue'. So you did.

There actually weren't anymore lionfish nearby so you decided to take a moment to clip the spines of the one on your spear, hoping to feed it to Joel the eel... or maybe this was Geoffrey. He took this lull in your movement as an opportunity to interact. You stared wide eyed as his hands reached out. It looked as though he was going to reach for your spear but thought better of it and reached out for your free hand instead. He took your smaller hand into his much larger ones. He inspected each finger, pulling them apart and tracing the curve in between, where his held a thin membrane. He ran a thumb over your blunt nails, where his held thick black claw. His movements were slow - cautious - and you get the feeling that it was more for your benefit than his. Wary as you were, you were equally enthused to learn more of the  man... fish... octopus being before you.  He inspected the sleeve of your wetsuit, running his fingers over the material. When it seemed like he was going to pinch the fabric between two claws you tugged your hand away, shaking your head in hopes the gesture was universal. Thankfully he understood. He then circled you to take in the rest of your form, a possible sign he understood touching anywhere else on your body might be unwelcomed. 

Unsurprisingly, he took particular interest in your legs, watching the way they swayed to keep you afloat. He didn't touch you yet you somehow felt pressure over every inch his eyes laid upon. Was this how your coworker felt during those awkward introductory meetings where there would always be one person asking to touch their fins. The memory made you giggle and the merman suddenly shifted his focus from your legs to your face. Your breath caught as his eyes focused on yours, it was mesmerizing how they looked as fluid as the ocean; the colors swaying as the black center zeroed in on you. For a moment you wondered what did you look like through those eyes. He raised a hand to rest his knuckles against your cheek. His gaze then lowered to your lips. Your body -so ready to flee when he first approached- now froze. No matter how much you tried to reinforce that his actions were of innocent curiosity you couldn't stop thinking they weren't. Or maybe you just hoped they weren't. Oh dear. Before you could figure out where your head was at, he pressed a thumb against your lips. There was a subtle shift in his features as he stared at you intently. A question? Was he asking to kiss you? Your heart sprinted. He wanted to kiss you... and you- you were actually considering it. You must be insane; yes you thought he was gorgeous in a unnatural -captivating- way but you weren't going to kiss a creature you haven't known for more than a few hours. You hadn't even exchanged words with him. Words... Oh! That was it! You would've face palmed  if your hands weren't occupied. He wished to speak, and prior knowledge reminded you that merfolk could adapt a language through lip contact. Well, that cleared your brain a bit. If that's the case surely you could spare your lips for a moment. It wouldn't have to be long, just the slightest peck was enough. A fraction of a second. He was patiently awaiting your answer, somewhat pulling back as if to tell you 'no' was a more than acceptable answer. With a tad more hesitation you finally nodded. You pulled out your mouth pieces, angling it downwards to prevent excess air loss. Trying to show some initiative you moved closer but you just couldn't bring yourself to close the kiss. Graciously he did and your lips met. Your rushing blood brought heat straight to your cheeks. It was such a minute amount of contact but your body responded as if he was already tongue deep inside. You felt... something. Like faint streams of electricity that moved from the corners of your lips to the center before vanishing. You figured it was the magic at work, now would be the time to move away but your body and brain can't seem to get on the same page. Or maybe they were on the same page and the voice telling you to move away was something foreign, something unwanted. You opened your eyes to see his, half lidded but looking at you with an intensity that couldn't be misconstrued. Neither of you wanted to break the contact. You're not sure where the confidence came from but just as you moved to press closer to him, your lungs reminded you where you were. They called for oxygen. It took more effort than you would like to admit to pull away from him and return your regulator to your mouth. You looked back at him to see his fingers pressed against his mouth, eyes swirling with mixed emotions. Maybe it was your eyes playing tricks on you but you swear he licked his lips. His adam's apple bobbed in his throat and he moved his lips as if testing the motions.

     "Can you understand me?"

     You nodded in the affirmative. And by Gods, the smile on his face could outshine the sun on a clear summer morning.

     This opened up the pathway to your budding friendship. Underwater, you couldn't have full conversations but with the barrage of questions he had there was hardly a need to speak. It especially amused you that he had to confirm that you were indeed human. Do humans walk everywhere? Do we forms pods? Do we dream? Do humans fly was a weird one to answer under the limitations. It was an eye opener to the fact that you were as alien to him as he you.

     At some point you remembered that you were on a timer and though there wasn't really a quota, resurfacing with only four lionfish would definitely not look good for you. You went back to spearing, trying to be quick while he asked about this and that. It only got better when you finally resurfaced. You perched on the old abandoned dock, it was barely more than a couple planks of wood hanging on for dear life. You were especially glad that this area remained as vacant as when you left so you didn't have to worry about worried/wondering gazes at the two of you.

     Unfortunately diving was only something you could do 2 maybe 3 times a week, it was essentially a freebie session offered to break up the office work you dread. Still, even after you clocked out, you'd take a stroll to that same dock where he'd be waiting beneath the surface. You learnt that, though most merfolk would declare otherwise, his species wasn't rare. Just distant and reclusive. The only reason he was close enough to the shore to spot me was because he seeked a precious stone to complete a trade. Based on his description you believed it was Larimar or Blue calcite, which you may have in your personal collection. When you asked why he decided to approach you, his answer was a sideways glance and a shrug before quickly changing the subject. There were moments, you noticed, when he'd rest his arms along the wooden planks and caress your overhanging legs. The movements were slow and feather light, almost absent minded. It made your mind fuzzy, you wished to just close your eyes and focus on nothing but the feel of his skin against yours. Occasionally, he would gently rake a claw over your soft skin and you'd try your best not to trip over your words. In return, you'd run your fingers over the mix of tentacles and tendrils that sprouted from his head- similar to hair. The prehensile limbs would wrap around your fingers. The gestures were unmistakably intimate but neither of you spoke against it. Amongst the many questions and conversations would be these moments of content silence, these you treasured most. His hands on you, your hands on his, as you both enjoyed the world around you and each other.

     Now those memories fill you with a hollow feeling in your chest. It's been almost a week with no sign of him. What had you expected, really? He has a life down below that he has to attend to after all. Even you have missed a day or two. What if he's hurt? The question gnawed at you many times these past few days; you despised the small part of you that preferred that outcome over having been left behind. But then the idea that somewhere down there he was facing unknown perils that you'd have no means to help him with would solidify in your mind. No, you'd rather the hurt of having been abandoned. Summoning your mental fortitude, you aimed to focus on the task at hand before you accidentally harm one of the sharks by being distracted. There was a new face this time... at least you thought they were new. They nuzzled your body as if sensing your distress and to your delight; it helped

     Seconds dragged into minutes then hours before it was time for you to get out. You wished you could say you were strong enough to just go but instead you swam around for a bit; hoping. Praying. But there was nothing around except you, the water and your pitiful heartache.

     Above land you safely shed the equipment. The smart thing to do would be to go home as soon as possible. To finish your day, change your clothes and curl up in blankets while playing some video games. However, you've always been a creature of habit so instead you sat at the old dock. Alone. The sun was so warm but the winds were relentless, they licked at your skin as if trying to shoo you away. Maybe this was Poseidon's way of telling you to get over it. It's not like there was anything between the two of you. You'd only known him for a handful of weeks after all, that's barely enough time to form a friendship much less... As if shutting down the thought, your brain replayed a memory of him pressing his face against the palm of your hand with pure bliss etched into his features. As if your touch alone could push away all his problems. Then there was the time you touched your forehead to his during a momentary spur of boldness. The look he gave you spoke so loud in the silence. You would've kissed him then if not for your shyness winning  out. That was one of the last moments you'd shared before his disappearance. A treasure in your heart that now caused you pain. Packing up your things, you got up to leave, however something clutched your ankle. Something, rather, someone you recognized all too well.

     You gasped violently as you were dragged down. Thank goodness you did because it was all the air you'd get to take with you in your rapid decent below. He shifted so instead of being pulled by his tentacles, you were fastened to his side by a firm arm. He stared straight forward as he swam, allowing you only to see the tendrils whipping around the back of his head. You could hardly process how fast you were going down the bottomless blue. The water shifted from a bright, comfortimg azure to ultramarine as you went deeper and deeper. Your panic rose the further he swam, which did your lungs no good. Was he trying to drown you!? You couldn't call out, couldn't scream so you tugged and pulled at his thick, unyielding arm, trying desperately to get him to stop. He turned to you then, there was a look of pained and haunted thoughts scribed into his face. The lovely grey of his sclera had darkened into a soulless black making the yellows of his eyes that more vibrant, almost glowing in the waters inky depth. The word 'feral' again came to mind as he blinked his second eyelids. He looked at you and looked at you and looked even more. As though his eyes processed one thing but his brain was stuck on something else. It took a moment but he finally said your name. Not said, growled it. His usually velvety deep voice was now strained through gravel. He pulled you closer to him and buried his face in your hair, your heart would be fluttering were it not currently banging in your chest wondering where the hell was the oxygen it ordered. You tried, you really did, to struggle against his hold. Hoping he'd wake up from whatever spell he was under and bring you back to solid ground. Hell, you'd make an attempt to swim for it, knowing how futile it would be. But once his long tongue was on your throat you became putty in his arms. You feel three distinct fingers rake against the other side of your neck as he nipped at you. You can't tell if your breath hitched or your lungs made another vain attempt to reach for air. You raised a trembling hand, trying to alert him to your situation but he seemed solely focused on tasting your skin.

     "Breathe." He spoke in-between licks, his tongue venturing down to your clavicle, and you wondered if he'd actually gone mad. His hooded eyes met yours and he repeated the word.

     It didn't matter anymore, the choice was no longer yours. You had held onto that final breath for dear life but it was time for that life to come to an end. A stream of bubbles left your horrified lips as you now fought not to breath in; that was a far shorter battle. You inhaled, preparing for the sting of water invading your airways in it's rush to your desperate lungs. For your body to heave and cough as the waters reminded you you were not it's friend but a guest who had overstayed their welcome. Would your body float up to be picked at by birds or sink to be fodder for the sea floor scavengers? You waited and waited. But... It never came. You, somehow, were breathing air. Opening your eyes in confusion, you looked around to see if you were suddenly back on land, if all this was some dream or hallucination spurred on by your guilt and heartbreak but no. You were still surrounded by the open seas and all it's inhabitants. Your breaths felt slightly strained but you weren't going to complain about life saving miracles. Especially when a giant tentacled man was tracing his finger down your spine. Now that your life was no longer at risk(mostly) you calmly rest your palm against his head, trying again to get answers out of him. He stilled, dissolving into your touch as he had many times before. You saw a bit of clarity in his eyes before he closed them.

     "I'm sorry." He said after a moment, his voice was lustful and strained, like a warning sign dipped in want and desire. "It started; my heat. I tried to stay as far away as I could but when all sense had escaped my mind the only thing left were thoughts of you." He pulled you closer, his eyes remained closed as if one look at you would break the little control he had. "I thought I had overcome it when I began searching for... Methods for you to survive beneath the waters. But the moment I had my answers it overtook me. It possessed me. It still does. I want you...desperately but only if you'll have me."

     You listened to his words, in confusion then understanding. Then you actually understood! Oh! Suddenly your body had forgotten all it's woes, focusing on your core instead. He wanted you. You bit your lip in thought, noticing that the water couldn't pass some unseen threshold of your mouth. You wanted him, you couldn't even pretend to deny that but... Was there a 'but'? You searched your tainted mind for excuses but your brain and your body were again in unison, the only outlier was you. You slid your hand up his face and caressed a cranial tendril, he opened his eyes and you felt his body vibrate. Purring.

     You didn't have the courage to look him in the eye when you spoke. "I will." You consented.

     He was on you instantly. His lips crashed into yours with reckless need. There was no slow build up, no questioning nor tentative tongue touches. His tongue snaked pass your lips and devoured you in kind. His large hands ran down either sides of your body, meeting when they both grabbed at your ass. There they lingered, kneading your flesh through the stretchy materiel, before one devious hand ventured even lower. You felt him slide a finger along the fabric covering your sex. Back and forth, his finger glided creating a nice little friction that almost touched your eager clit. Your hips moved on their own, seeking the contact. You craved more of his touch and suddenly the thin, synthetic rubber was a dense barrier. As if hearing your thoughts, there was the slightest pinch against the crook of your behind before a sudden coldness seeped in. You could feel him carefully swipe his claw to just above your clit, creating a opening in the fabric. The new sensation of cold wetness against you warm sex made you gasp but it was soon replaced by the warmth of his... hand? No, the texture was far different. Before you had a chance to investigate, the feeling of suction against your clit gave you all the answers you needed. Something between a gasp and a moan left your lips, the sound must've pleased him greatly because he tore himself away from your mouth to look into your eyes. The limb covered your whole sex, with the tip lightly teasing your entrance but it was that one suction cup upon your clit that was really putting in the work. It took a rhythm that was brain meltingly pleasant against the sensitive bud, thoroughly teased by his phantom touches prior. A sudden surge of pleasure began to build causing you to reflexively try to squeeze your thighs together. However, the  action was impeded by two tentacles quickly wrapping around your legs to keep them parted. They squeezed as if to reaffirm their hold on you. He took your chin in his hand and watched you intensely as you came undone from the stimulation. His grip was light but unyielding when you tried to turn away. Closing your eyes would lead to him stopping completely until they fluttered open again to meet his. He would take in every dip in your throat, every curve in your lips, every crease beneath your eyes and flush upon your cheeks. He wouldn't miss a moment of your first orgasm at his hands. His gaze was dizzying, as if whatever possessed him was now reaching out for you.  Having him inspect you with such cold fondness only made the experience that more salacious. The rising tide of pleasure finally crashed and you were left a buzzing, panting mess. With a look of gratification he released your chin, wrapping his arms around you once more to knit your body to his.

     "You're so beautiful." He cooed before trailing off into words of his own language.

     You didn't get a moment to say anything back before you felt something probe against your opening. One of his tentacles slid inside you fully, welcomed and aided by the slick lube of your still pulsing walls. You shuddered in his arms, thankful for the support. It was a comfortable fit and suddenly you're reminded that it's been ages since anyone has had you like this. It made the experience slightly more alien atop the fact that you were being intimate with a lust driven sea-beast. Rather than the expected thrusting, the appendage grazed along your insides. It twisted and pushed as if getting a feel for you, learning you before pulling back out. The sudden emptiness made you whimper, you looked at him, ready to beg if need be but it didn't come to that. You felt your entrance being prodded again. It was the familiar tip of a tentacle, ready to enter you once more. However, the more it pushed, the wider it got; so very much wider. And Gods, it held a bumpy texture that was absent before. Just as your mind went hazy you realised it was two of them, wrapped around each other. It finally gave you the thrusting motion you desired, it's ribbed texture grazing parts of you that remained untouched for too long. Your movements were limited but you attempted to grind against each wonderful thrust, moaning your delight with feather light whispers. This was all too good, soft and pliable enough that it writhed inside you but firm enough to press against your hungry womb.

Despite all senses seemingly being focused on your trembling hole you felt something press against your stomach, forcing it's way into the tiny space between your body and his. You peek downward to see the spearheaded tip of what you assumed was his cock. Suddenly, his preparation of your cunt made sense, you'd expected him to be big but geez. It was identical in color to his body, darkening at the tip in a similar fashion to his fingers. It throbbed and twitched as he began to grind against you. Even with two tentacles stretching your insides, your greedy eyes craved the feel of it. Craved the connection to him. You reached down and grasped it at the base, shock almost pulling you out of your haze when it wrapped around your hand. It tightened as if begging for more of your touch. You acquiesced and began running you hands up and down his massive length, taking great pleasure in the way his body vibrated with resonating groans. His thrusts inside you growing wilder, taking you further and further and you were determined to take him with you. His voice held a softer, pleading tone as it goaded you on, praising you between strained hisses. His cock swelled and hardened, his words devolving into senseless mumbles. The limbs inside you became more erratic as his pleasure grew. His grip on your body tightening to the point of leaving small tears in your suit and nicks in your skin. He released a long animalistic huff as he coated your arm in slimy white fluid, your body responded by coating his tentacles with your own. You rest your head against his chest, moving in time with his heavy breaths, counting them as you both recovered. You're not sure when he began moving you but suddenly you were face to face. He kissed you. Slowly. Gently. Tasting and savoring you.

     "Do you think you could take me, my treasure, or do I need to stretch that greedy hole of yours even more?" He asked between kisses.

     Words were beyond your tired brain so you just nodded. As spent as your body was, this moment would not feel complete until he was inside you. Slowly, as if moving you too much too quickly could break you, he turned you around so that your back was pressed against his chest. He snaked his hands around you -he really did seem to love having his arms on you-, one hand moving to grope your breast while the other traced a line down your stomach to caress your mound. You feel his lower half angle itself to bring his leaking member to your slick opening. Oh so slowly you feel him slide into you, spreading you wider with each inch. You couldn't help but try to squirm against him but his hands held you steady. He was only half way in when your body began to show resistance. He started pulling out slowly and thrusting into you, getting a little bit further each time.

     "You're being so good for me." He whispered just above your ear, his voice held a lovely cadence. Singsong; as if haunted by a melody that compelled his body to move.

     You couldn't hear it but you felt it, it rang through your body with each sway of your hips and out your lips with each whine. Down to the way he held you, like an instrument to be adored. Every moan a crescendo and every voice stopping bite at your neck a diminuendo. He was playing you and you were loving every moment of it. In and out, in and out like he was timing bars on sheet music. That was up until the flat, tapered tip hit the deepest part of you; he'd hilted. Then everything stopped. Fermata. You're only warning for what was to come were the tentacles that slithered around your legs to ground you. You hardly even felt him pull out, just the force as he thrust fully into you. The sound that left your mouth was a guttural whine of shock and pain. He kept going.  Slamming. Pounding. Taking your body over and over. It hurt and yet you desired more. He fucked you like he was craving this moment his whole life. Your body eased and the pain slowly dissolved into pleasure, never quite leaving but become something more. Something better. Something wholy obscene. Your body was an inferno in the cold, dark water. Pleasure overtook you; you no longer felt like a person, just a mass of emotions and senses. You could hear his grunts and growls behind you, the sounds he made were truly animalistic. Wild. Primal. Savage. As though he couldn't fathom being anything but a creature of vulgarity. Couldn't fathom doing anything but driving himself into you. Desired nothing more in the world than to fill the emptiest parts of you. Your walls tightened around him, as if intending to learn every bulge and vein of his cock. Pulling and sucking him in with no desire to let him go, that was where all your strength went. You felt the recognizable build of another orgasm and judging by way his pliable member was now a hardened monolith, he wasn't far off.  He no longer needed to lead, you danced with him as you both came together. His seed seeped out of him, filling every bit of (nonexistent)space inside of you before oozing out. He continued to thrust, making sure you milked his cock for everything he had. It's throbbing was like a heartbeat inside you.

     You collapsed against him, laying your head flat against his chest, your cheek barely touching the flesh above his heart. After a moment you looked up to see him already staring down at you, the affection in his eyes fueled your already thrumming heart. A moment of tenderness as the tainted waters surrounding you both whisked your indecencies away.  His sclera lightened to their usual soft grey. An eagerness popped up on his face as he seemingly wanted to ask you something then but thought better of it. A somber look taking over his features instead. Using what little strength remained in your body, you turned fully to him. He immediately took your head in both his hands and rest his forehead against yours.

     "I- Did i hurt you?"

     "Did-" You gave him a droll look. "Did you hurt me??" You flicked his head. Well, you tried but there was less than no force behind your fingers. "Of course you did. Lucky for you I enjoyed it."

     "I'm so sorry, I'll be gentler next time." He sounded genuinely apologetic. "If you would allow for a 'next time'."

     "There better be."

     "And a time after that?"

     "Don't push your luck, ocean boy."

     You felt him smile against you. It may have been an innocent one but you couldn't help but wonder if he was already plotting.

     He took you above land after that and you thanked the Gods above that your towel and pack was still waiting for you. At least you could walk(limp) to the company building without catching a charge for indecent exposure. He watched you from his usual spot on the dock. His downturned eyes hooded by his lashes had him looking like a distraught child watching their best friend board a plane to unknown lands. Did he think he scared you away? That you'd never return? Maybe as a bit of revenge you'd let him believe it.

((You also had to deal with the urge to sink into the floor at the knowing and amused looks on your merfolk coworker's face every time they saw the marks on your neck D:))

[bumeksgear]

Follow: @bumeksgear Bumeks Gear Industry Location: Konya, Turkey 🇹🇷 Transmission, differential and axle gears for European trucks and Construction Equipment. Aftermarket parts for Volvo, Scania, Renault, MAN and Mercedes-Benz trucks. Also, parts are available for VolvoCE and ZF-powered construction equipment.⚙️ Types: Wheel Loaders, Wheel Excavators, Backhoe Loaders, Compact Loaders, Graders, and Dump Trucks. We support machines with wheels and axles, not on tracks. ZF-Powered construction equipment: Volvo, Hyundai, Doosan, Daewoo , JCB, John Deere, New Holland, Case, Caterpillar, Liebherr, Hidromek, Cukurova, Samsung, Hitachi, Sennebogen and other machines with ZF transmission and axle systems. Follow: @bumeksgear for more updates. WhatsApp: +905551934569 Gmail: bumeksgear@gmail.com www.g.page/bumeks DM, email or text for questions or inquiries at anytime of the day. Bumeks Catalogs: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/137sWkcg7cQVbSANHT9wBbIqoFb1Oqfbt?usp=sharing #aftermarket #spareparts #gears #shaft #carrier #brakedisc #volvo #volvoce #volvoconstruction #scania #truckparts #parts #constructionequipment #heavyequipment #repair #transmission #differential #axleparts #factory #repuestos #recambios #cajadecambios #ricambi #euroricambi #maquinariapesada #camiones #baumaschinen #спецтехника #шестерни #engrenages *Disclaimer: Bumeks Gear is not an OEM manufacturer, nor an official distributor of the above mentioned brands. (at Bumeks Gear Factory) https://www.instagram.com/p/Chom2pOqWB3/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[megahomedesignsblog]

Differential gears and pinion - Ringgearpinions

Differential gears and pinions and their uses can be found almost everywhere. They are used to transfer rotation from one gear to another, which allows for the efficient transmission of power. They are also used to change the direction of rotation of a wheel or a motor. The differential gear is the most common type of differential, which is the main component of a vehicle’s transmission.

[memorycycle]

if u gave lego gears to a baby it would immadietly start constructing a perfect model of a differential but any older than 4 months and they forget how to do it and just chew on the pieces

[inphront]

thinking tonight about griddlehark as doomed by not seeing power and control as linked/trying to have one without the other.

harrow is desperate for control over every aspect of her situation, breaking down the moment anything happens that she can't predict or change or have agency in, but she's consumed by guilt and horror at the idea of being in power. she takes so much pride in necromancy as an element of her world and life where she is capable and a genius and in control, and it's a massive source of internal contention because one of the biggest gears turning her character is the cost of that control, and the fact that necromancy is inherently caught up in power dynamics. ianthe notices this about her in the epiparados: she's used to having her hands on the reins, can't cope when they're taken off, and doesn't have the personality to put them back on. harrow wants to run the ninth for the sake of having control over it, but situations like her birth where she has clear power over it make her want to die. she wants control over gideon, but is horrified by the power differential involved within necro/cav relationships. harrowhark deals horribly with uncertainty. she doesn't want power, just certainty, and therefore control. much of her arc involves the recognition that it is impossible to control an equal, which is her fundamentally impossible want: to be gideon's equal without giving her the right to leave, to be necromantically capable without the leveraging of power over her house that this requires, and the ability to align the world with what is just without the social position or the force so often involved in making meaningful change.

meanwhile, gideon has never felt important to anyone. her most fundamental desire is to be important to someone, and this manifests in her military fantasies and rebellion against authority as a desire for power. she wants the status and the catharsis of being at the top of a podium she's spent her life crushed underneath. but she doesn't put much thought into actually using any of this power she wants so badly. gideon doesn't want power for the sake of agency, but for the sake of admiration, which is how she ends up as a figurehead-- someone theoretically in a position of total power, with no control over even her own body. even her self-actualization as a cavalier was, to some extent, an acceptance of a title and a position within the empire under the understanding that she would be used. expressions of power, such as killing crux, don't feel good to her, but the concept of power itself, of having important parents and prestige and a big sword and recognition, do.

and how can they explain this to each other? they're both trying to take opposite halves of a mutually inclusive set. it's no wonder, then, that the tragedies of their relationship are desperate attempts to give each other things they don't want: gideon's death makes harrow far more powerful under terms harrow can't control. harrow then attemps to control those terms, and by extension to give gideon back her life and her agency, which gideon interprets as revoking the power she had over harrow's emotions and memory (as well as her imperial title, which may not indicate much power but sure does mean more than "indentured servant to the ninth"). for much of gtn, harrow had both power and control, while gideon had neither, and i expect this to switch when they interact in atn because it is impossible to only have one. in this way, their relationship raises a lot of questions about power structures as a whole: what do you do when changing the world requires you to leverage power against other people? what do you do when positive recognition inherently comes with a responsibility to be cruel? when relinquishing your capacity to hurt people limits your capacity to help, and when getting out from under the boot means putting it on? how do interactions with power and control interpersonally reflect systemic influence?

idk mostly i just shake them

[dollfacefantasy]

And If the Sun Comes Up

pairing: vampire!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon knows that you and him are meant to be. if the only way to show you that is to sneak in during the night, then that's just what he'll have to do.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering, somnophilia, non-con, biting, blood, reader is tied up, spitting in mouth, overstimulation

word count: 4k

a/n: hey everyone. when he fucks u so good, u think u love him, am i right? i wanted to get one more done for halloween and i'm kinda late, but it's still halloween here so idgaf. i hope everyone enjoys. also i'm trying a new style with the header image so yeah. as always i really appreciate reblogs and comments <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz

i made a playlist of songs i listened to while writing here.

It’s the middle of the night with moonlight shining down through the slits in your blinds. You’re sleeping off a stressful week tonight. You lay between your soft blankets with your head resting on your cool pillow. You had been in a peaceful, dreamless slumber, but now whimpers erupted from your unconscious form as you felt a persistent sensation between your legs.

You still aren’t fully awake. Your eyes briefly flutter, and your hips shift, trying to alleviate the disturbance that was disrupting your rest. A long whine escapes your throat as cold hands wrap around the tops of your thighs and keep you in position.

You gasp softly as your mind struggles to differentiate dream from reality. When you try to close your legs, you’re met with resistance. You start to come to as your limbs tug more forcefully on whatever was keeping them spread. You could vaguely feel the sensation of restraints around your ankles. It’s difficult to see in the darkness of your bedroom, but you can hear something unfamiliar. Soft grunts and groans emanate from the bottom of your bed.

You weakly lift your head to figure out what was happening. Your eyes were still sleepy, and your mind was still fogged from returning to lucidity, but you could still recognize the sensation of someone lapping at your cunt like it was their final meal.

Looking down between your thighs, you see a mop of blonde hair. At first, the sight brings you mere confusion. It didn’t make sense, and you struggled to process it. But as the gears in your brain began sliding into place, terror coursed through your veins.

A strangled cry leaves your lips, and you thrash harder to get away. You realize your arms are bound too, connected together by your wrists that were secured at the level of your navel. The adrenaline in your system makes you much more alert. You could now see the long, toned body of this stranger. He wore tight, black clothing that allowed you to see his definition. His strength was obvious from that alone if you couldn’t already feel it from how he held you in place so easily.

Once he notices you’re awake, his head pops up. Your eyes widen as they connect with his piercing irises through the dark. Fear moves through you in sickening waves. Every cell in your body yearns for him to just get away.

“Shhh, sweet one. It’s alright,” he whispers. He rubs his fingertips on your inner thigh in an attempt to soothe you. His voice is husky yet familiar, and his eyes are glazed over with arousal. From what it looked like, he had been doing this for a while.

You don’t stop squirming. Your heart pounds so erratically that it feels like at any moment you’ll go into cardiac arrest. As your breathing picks up and becomes shallow, your cries become breathless. 

His brows furrow momentarily at your response, but then his expression softens. You felt like you recognized him, but you couldn’t be sure.

“My darling, there’s no reason to be afraid,” he says and presses a few small kisses to your thigh, “Calm yourself, my love. I’m not going to hurt you.”

You’re still so freaked out by the fact that this is even happening that your brain fails to formulate a response. You stare at him in horror as your squirming becomes weaker and your muscles begin to freeze out of fright.

“Good girl,” he whispers and caresses your hip, “This is for your pleasure, angel. Just relax. I know I may have startled you, but there’s no need to carry on.”

He leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your clit causing you to softly yelp in both protest and pleasure. He chuckles and pulls his face back. His thumb begins lazily swiping through your folds, up and down. As soon as he cracks that smile, you’re able to place him.

“Leon?” you ask, your voice still raspy from sleep. Your drowsy mind couldn’t figure out why the man you’d seen only in passing at your job as a waitress was eating you out in your bedroom in the dead of night.

“Yes, beloved?” he answers, looking up at you with genuine curiosity as if nothing was off.

Now that you know the identity of your mysterious trespasser, your fear fades, and anger takes its place.

“Leon, what the fuck? What are you doing? And what are you doing here?” you say, your voice wavering. You try to stay focused and not let yourself be distracted by his thumb sliding around your slick. He doesn’t seem too fazed by your reaction.

“What does it look like I’m doing, pretty baby?” he whispers, “Making you feel good. You had a hard week, little doll. Let me make it better. Then I’ll explain.”

With that, he returns his head to the junction of your thighs. He parts his lips and begins making out with your pussy. Your eyes widen at his words, but the feeling of his tongue on your most intimate spot pushes your protests back down your esophagus. Instead, you whimper and take your lip between your teeth.

Erotic, wet noises from his lips and tongue working on your cunt spill out into the bedroom. Your cheeks heat with the shame of how good it felt, but there was really nothing you could do but take it. His tongue circles and laves at your clit with intense dedication before gliding down and fucking into your dripping hole.

His fingertips trace soothing circles onto the soft skin of your thighs while his mouth continues working you to the edge. He starts grunting again like he had been doing when you were sleeping. From the sounds alone, it seemed like he was getting as much pleasure from this as you. His breathing was heavy. You could feel it fanning across your pelvis.

You whine, your physical resistance dying down as release gets closer. You can feel his smug grin against your skin.

“L-Leon…” you stammer out through moans.

“Hush, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “Let it feel good. Your body knows it’s right. It knows what you need.”

He flicks his tongue on your swollen bud a few more times before you come undone. You jerk and spasm against the restraints on your wrists and ankles. Broken whimpers fall from your lips as your head fogs with the euphoria of release.

He watches from below with wonder. “There you go, pretty girl,” he breathes while thumbing your clit, “Give it all to me. You don’t need to worry about anything else.”

You ride out your release on his tongue. When you finish up, you look down at him with half-lidded eyes. He continues to gaze up at you with a look of love, his pupils dilated and his chin covered with your arousal.

“Leon. Explain,” you say, trying to sound firm, but your voice was hazy from your release.

“Why so many questions, little one? Did that not feel good?” he asks, “Did that not feel like everything you needed?”

“Leon. What are you doing in my house at three in the fucking morning… touching me like that?” you say, your voice picking up some of the intensity you initially intended.

He sighs and shakes his head, but still sports that smug smile. “You’ll see in time, my love. I know you’ll feel it too,” he says.

My love. Those two words struck you like an itch you couldn’t scratch. All these weird pet names. You barely knew him. He was always nice to you, but in a cordial kind of way, remembering your name and little things you’d told him about your day when you gave him his order. You weren’t even friends. You definitely didn’t consider yourself to be his love.

“Feel what? What are you talking about? You sound crazy,” you say.

“You’re my mate, sweet one,” he responds. He looks at you as if it’s a fact and speaks as if this was the most normal conversation, like you weren’t tied up and nude from the waist down.

You blink at him in disbelief. The words ring through your mind.

“Your mate?” you repeat incredulously, the only response you could think of.

“My mate,” he confirms, “I know you can’t understand it now. But you will. I’ll-”

“I barely know you!” you raise your voice, “Just cause I smile at you and can remember your order that doesn’t mean I want to fuck you! And it sure as Hell doesn’t mean we’re mates.”

He remains calm as he continues to speak. “You may not know me, but I know you, sweetheart. I love you, but you aren’t the most observant. I’ve been watching, and I know we’re meant to be. I know it’s right for you.”

The thought of him watching you while you went about your life, clueless as ever, disturbed you to the pit of your stomach, but you tried not to let that show. 

“Oh my God, you’re delusional. Fucking delusional. You think we’re soulmates? Like what? Like we’re written in the stars or something?” you mock.

“No, darling. Not written in the stars. It’s written in our DNA, something tying us together. I can sense it. You have the sweetest smelling blood I’ve ever come across.”

Your eyes widen at his explanation.

“What… What are you talking about? You can’t smell my blood, Leon,” you say.

“If only I couldn’t, maybe then I wouldn’t have to do this,” he says, his voice growing more hushed, “But I can. You have to understand, little love. I’m not a man of normal appetites.”

The way he spoke freaked you out. Various horrific ideas ran through your head about what he meant by unusual appetites. Your anger was slowly exiting, and your fear was seeping back in. Your limbs tremble as you try again to pull yourself out of your bindings.

“Sweetheart, all throwing a tantrum will do is tire you out,” he chides, "And while it’s not required, I would prefer if you were conscious to see how good I can make you feel.”

“You’re fucking insane!” you exclaim with a shaky voice, tears of terror pricking at your eyes, “I don’t know what gave you this sick fantasy that we’re true love and meant to be or whatever. But that’s all it is. Leon, I-”

“Enough,” he says, his voice dropping to a more commanding tone, “If you’re not willing to understand, I’ll just have to make you more agreeable.”

With that, his mouth returns to your cunt. He sucks your clit between his lips and flicks his tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves. One hand holds your thigh like it was before while the other comes between your legs and prods at your entrance.

You’re whimpering in no time, still being tender from your previous release. Your hips squirm and writhe as he pumps two fingers in and out of you.

“Quit moving,” he growls and tightens his grip on your thigh.

The gravelly harsh tone lights the pool of arousal in your belly like a match falling into gasoline. You clamp around his fingers and mewl softly. A sharp exhale leaves his nose and smirks.

“Good baby, deep down you know you want this. You’ve only had my fingers so far, and she already knows to get nice and tight for me,” he breathes before returning his attention to your pussy.

His fingers continue working you open, scissoring inside your hole as they move back and forth. The whole time he relentlessly plays with your clit, flicking, sucking, circling. Short, strained cries come from you as your back arches off the bed.

“There we go, pretty baby. Cum again for me,” he purrs, “I doubt you’ve been with a guy who could make you cum even once.”

You didn’t even fully register his words because you were so wrapped up in the throes of ecstasy. Your body convulses as release washes over you again. You shiver in waves, whining and babbling as he continues pleasuring you through the high.

As you come down, he doesn’t ease up on you. His fingers tease you a bit before applying enough pressure to overstimulate you. He adds a third finger into you and continues maneuvering them skillfully, hitting all the right spots.

His mouth doesn’t stop either. He spits onto your pussy and dives back in, licking up your slick and flattening his tongue to massage you into bliss.

He brings you at least two more peaks, eating you out until your mind is nearly melted and you’re a whining, drooling, nonsensical mess.

When he finally feels that you’ve had enough, he moves up, coming face to face with you in a blur. You flinch at the quick movement, and draw a chuckle from him. His hand wraps around your throat while his eyes give you a predatory scan. He lowers his head to the crook of your neck and inhales deep.

“Smells like cherries,” he mutters before laying a few soft kisses up your neck and behind your ear.

You shiver at the gentle contact and a quiet whine escapes you. Your nipples are hard beneath your top from the countless highs he brought you and the fluttering of his lips against your skin. It’s not long before his other hand is sliding up your body to squeeze and fondle your breasts, his thumb teasingly swiping across the hardened buds a few times.

“I don’t need you to understand this, my love. I don’t expect you to. It’s a little out of your depth anyways,” he whispers and nips at your earlobe, “What I expect is for you to take it like a good girl and let me show you what you need. I think you can already see that you’ll be begging for more by the end of the night whether you understand it or not.”

Your thoughts are too muddled to formulate an actual response. Instead, you just watch him with your blissed out stare. He leans back and pulls off his shirt, exposing his muscular torso and chest to you. The moonlight coming through the blinds illuminates him just enough for you to feel more desire building in your abdomen. He smiles at your impressed reaction, and that’s when you see it.

He has fangs.

It’s only a glimpse, but you would swear on your life that it was the truth. His canines are clearly sharper than normal, it can’t be your imagination. And with all his talk about blood… You felt like you were losing it. There was no way he made you cum so hard that you’d believe in vampires.

“What is it, precious?” he asks softly as he undoes his belt and starts lowering his pants. His tone projects innocence, but the look on his face makes you think he knows exactly what you’re fixated on.

“Nothing, I- I- it’s-” you stutter. Your jaw almost drops as his hard cock springs free from his boxers. It was long and thick and you weren’t even sure that it would fit.

He climbs on top of you again, his strong, thick arms boxing you in on your bed.

“What’s the matter? Like what you see? Or is it that you don’t think I have a pretty smile?” he asks, flashing his teeth again. The fangs are in clear view now. Their existence is undeniable.

He can hear your heartbeat speeding up and your breathing getting shallow. It brings him a twisted sense of pleasure that he doesn’t dwell on. He lazily strokes himself in preparation to enter you.

“What are you? You… you can’t be…” you say, your voice dropping to nearly a whisper.

“A vampire?” he asks, “That’s probably the term easiest for you to understand, so yes, my little doll. I am a vampire.”

Your eyes widen. Your fearful gaze locks onto him.

“It’s not like a movie, baby. I can eat garlic and clearly I don’t need to be invited into your house,” he explains, almost as if he’s trying to lighten the mood, “But I have a bloodlust.”

You’re stunned. This couldn’t be real. “So what? I’m like your personal blood bank or something? Is that what being your mate is?”

“No,” he scoffs, “Being my mate is what it sounds like, angel. In all my years, I’ve never met another who makes me feel like you do. You’re my love, the light in the darkness I’ve been existing in. My personal heaven and hell wrapped into one perfect vessel.”

Your head is spinning with everything you’re hearing. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips before leaning back onto his knees and positioning himself at your entrance. He stares at you with his eyes, glossed over with lust. He reaches for your confined hands and brings them to his lips.

“It will all make sense soon, darling,” he says, “Soon enough we’ll be together in this.”

He takes one of your fingers into his mouth, keeping eye contact with you the entire time. One of his fangs presses into the pad of your finger, and draws a small drop of blood. You wince at the pain, but you’re quickly distracted by the guttural groan Leon emits as he smooths his tongue against the warm liquid.

He pushes inside you and tilts his head back. Your finger slips out of his mouth and smears some blood on his lips.

“Tastes so fucking sweet too, Christ,” he grunts as he begins thrusting.

Despite the circumstances, he felt good. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say it was the best you ever had. He filled you up perfectly. A string of whines and whimpers expel from your mouth into a long moan.

“That’s right. You know it’s perfect,” he mutters, “Soon, it will be just me and you. For all of eternity. No one else. The entire world could burn, and you and I could fuck on top of the ashes.”

Your own head falls back, and he sucks your finger back into his mouth to taste more of your blood. He moans around your digit, his hips beginning to piston with more intensity. His hands lock onto your hips, so he has a firm grip to slam into you with.

You felt a mix of shame and fear, but you started to believe him. You felt something inside you that told you this was right. This was what you longed for. What you needed.

He starts leaning over you more. He had to see you, had to see your mind changing about him, the look in your eyes shifting from fear to lust. One of his hands rises to hold your jaw and direct you to look at him.

“Open your mouth,” he commands, eyes boring into you.

You do it with no hesitation. Your lips part and your tongue lolls out obediently. He smirks, still rolling his hips as he slowly spits into your open mouth. His saliva leaks from his lips, lands on your tongue, and starts sliding to your throat. The feeling combined with that look in his eyes almost made you cum on its own.

He feels the same. Watching your pretty eyes become unfocused as you accept what’s happening had him digging his fingers into the flesh of your cheeks in order to hold on. Once he felt you had enough he pats your cheek.

“Swallow,” he grunts and reverts his primary focus to fucking you into the mattress.

And you do this too. You swallow it all. A garbled moan erupts from you afterwards, and your eyes roll back as he strokes all the sweet spots inside of you.

“Good girl,” he coos with a low tone, “Taking it perfectly. Just like you’re meant to do.”

You lift your arms and loop your bound wrists over his head to pull him closer. He follows your guidance, but his face looks almost pained. He keeps his face further than you want. You whimper and try to pull him down to the crook of your neck more.

“Sweet baby, you have to be careful. I can’t… I have to make sure you’re safe my love. I don’t know if I can control myself if I’m that close,” he breathes.

“What? Control how?” you babble, still not really focused because of how his cock is battering your insides at the moment.

“Your blood, baby. It’s too strong. I won’t be able to hold back. I could hurt you,” he says.

That almost snaps you back to reality for a moment. “Like what? You wanna bite me?” you ask with a curious expression.

For a change, this time he has no words. He nods, still maintaining eye contact.

It wasn’t your smartest moment, but you don’t hesitate as the words leave you.

“Do it.”

His eyes flash with a look you can’t read in your state.

“Sweetheart, I… I want to, but it’s not safe,” he whispers, but you can hear the desire in his voice.

“If we’re really mates then you should be able to stop yourself. Prove it to me. Prove that I’m yours and you’re mine,” you say, your voice taking on a whiny quality from how close you were getting.

He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t resist when you were asking for it like this. He slowly lowers himself to be level with your neck. His thrusts become slower but deeper. He takes another deep breath of that scent before baring his teeth and sinking them into your flesh.

You gasp and pull your arms around him as you feel the punctures. At first it hurts, but then he begins to softly suck, coaxing your blood into his mouth. You both let out simultaneous moans. His eyes flutter now and his grip on your hips tighten.

He’s getting lost in his own world of euphoria now as he feeds off of you, gulping down that sweet, hot liquid. You tremble as pleasure courses through you too. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. It was light and airy while being grounding and all consuming. You couldn’t hold on for any longer.

He growls as you cum, the feeling of your cunt latching onto him is almost too much. He manages to hold it together for a handful more thrusts. His breathing is rough as he cums and his thrusts are sporadic. You feel his muscles tensing as he groans into your neck. He spills rope after rope of cum into you.

When you’re both done, both of your bodies are trembling. Your sweaty skin is pressed to his which is still ice cold. He goes limp on top of you, breathing deep as he comes down from the high. You could feel blood trickling down your neck as his mouth disconnects from your throat.

You didn’t know what to say. The fog of lust was clearing and while you didn’t regret your decisions, this was still weird. You remove your arms from him, and he takes that as a signal to pull out and roll off of you.

He pushes his disheveled hair out of his face and gives you a crooked smile. His mouth was still red with your blood. He reaches over and starts untying the restraints around your hands. You watch him quietly.

“So you said soon… we’ll be in this together?” you ask awkwardly.

He lets out a short laugh as he gets the bindings off and drops them to the side. He runs his fingers through your hair and kisses your forehead before getting out of your bed.

“Soon, sweet one, I’ll change you to be like me. A vampire,” he says, using a teasing tone for the last word, “But not yet. I know you’re not ready, and my goal isn’t to scare you. I truly love you.”

You just nod because you honestly didn’t know what to say to that. Even if you felt something for him, you wouldn’t say it was love. Yet. 

You watch him put on his clothes as you reach down to start untying your ankles.

“So… you’re just leaving?” you say, almost sounding disappointed.

“Yes but don’t be too sad, my love. You’ll see me as soon as the sun sets again tonight,” he says.

He finishes putting on his clothes and leans in to give you one more passionate kiss before he leaves. You could still taste your blood on him.