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#Iron Metal Craft
ironmetalcraft · 6 months
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Iron Metal Craft
Website: https://www.ironmetalcraft.com/
Address: 889 Clarkson Ave Suite 103, Brooklyn, NY 11203
Phone: +1 347-903-6763
We specialize in Welding, Fabrication, Window Guards, Storm, Gates, Fences, Handrails, Cellar Doors, Fire Escapes, Stairs and much more. We cater to both Residential and Industrial. We cater to both Residential & Commercial. We specialize in Welding, Fabrication, Window Guards, Storm, Gates, Fences, Handrails, Cellar Doors, Fire Escapes, Stairs and much more in Brooklyn NY.
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tonyglowheart · 1 year
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finally...hooked on? hooked off? hooked up? what is the crochet equivalent of cast on...
anyway lmao. finally uhhh started! what will be a giant bee (and... mayhaps... a beehaw? owo)
(Using this pattern)
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call-me-strega · 4 months
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Dc x Dp prompt #13: Hell to Pay
They say there are only two things certain in life: death and taxes. That’s why even the Joker doesn’t fuck with the IRS.
However, unfortunately for the Joker the other certainty is death and he has yet to pay his dues. Just like how he could only get away with tax evasion for so long, there are only so many times the Joker can dodge death.
Death is coming to collect, with interest.
And the Joker will have hell to pay.
~ A dark green cloud swirls over the city. From it, emerge three oppressive figures:
The one on the far left with flowing hair like white-hot fire. His vambraces made of (what appeared to be) molten glass stopped under his fingers, which then extend into into claws that seemed to drip lava. He had spiked obsidian pauldrons on his shoulders, fastening a luminous, stark-white cape to his shoulders. He wore a coronet of lightning and wielded a flail that appeared to be made of coal chains and a shrunken Red Giant star.
The second on the far right had a helm of dark iron wreathed in a plume of purple flame. His gauntlets and sword flamed with green hellfire. A pure black sheath seemingly made of void and a silver hunting horn were tied to his waist. He wore an armor forged of shadows and proofed with fear. He rode atop a mighty stead. An inky dark stallion with a curved horn and bat-like wings. His form was constantly slightly shifting depending on the angle which you viewed him making him appear larger and more slippery than he was, enhancing his disquieting nature.
The third stood in the middle, smaller but no less terrifying than her companions. Her hair was wild with movement, only just visible because it appeared as if someone had bound the winds to her head. She wore a tiara made of storm clouds and pearls. She carried with her a spear, the shaft crafted of amazonite and the tip of a clear quartz, almost reminiscent of sea salt. At her hip lay a whip made of a restrained gale and a sea glass knife. She wore armor that appeared to be Greco-Roman in origin: a chest plate made of some sort of coral-like material and a battle skirt decorated with metallic bronze feathers.
They slowly descent on the city, bringing down a sense of power and dread. They paused at the top of Wayne Tower, where the city's vigilantes had all gathered in an attempt to create and feasible plan of action to discern what these beings want. The young woman in the middle speaks and the wind carries her voice. She is not loud but it the whole of Gotham hears her words.
"Greetings, Heroes of Gotham. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Spirit, Princess and Head Diplomat of the Infinite Realms. This is Samhain, the Fright Knight, loyal knight to the king,” she gestured to her right before switching to her left “and this is Prince Wraith, current General in Chief of the Realms. We come to you as the King’s Guard and entourage. We have official business in your city and wish to civilly notify you of our presence. The King will be arriving shortly and your cooperation would be great fully received.”
Batman moved forward to shake her hand and address the situation.
“I’m afraid that we prefer not to have unknowns operating within the city. Would you be able to tell us what business you have here? Perhaps we could reach an agreement?” Batman tried to negotiate as politely as he could. He did not want to risk offending the evidently powerful beings.
Princess Spirit’s smile sharpened as she thrummed her finger against her knife. She spoke again with an unnervingly pleasant tone.
“It appears you do not understand. We are not asking for your permission.” Her grip around his hand tightened. “ We are informing you.” She finished releasing his hand.
Batman withdrew his aching hand and regarded her with the beginnings of a protest on his lips. She didn’t allow him to speak.
“ This is out of your jurisdiction Batman. This is a matter of the Realms and the Afterlife. Whatever worldly rules or morals you wish to impose on those who enter this city do not apply to us. We will do our best to work within them, so as to appease you and to attempt to maintain a friendly relationship but in the macrocosm of the multiverse and afterlives you have no official power over us. Additionally, we have direct permission to operate here however we see fit from the City Spirit herself, Lady Gotham.”
Batman’s shadow seemed to fluctuated. His and his team's shadows moved from beneath them, closer to the Princess. Lady Gotham, though not manifesting, was making her presence and approval known. Batman could not deny what he was seeing. His team shifted uncomfortably behind him. He appealed to her once more.
“ I see that we can’t stop you. We don’t want to get in your way either. Could you at least tell us why you are here?”
She smiled as if telling a joke, “All will be revealed in time”
Suddenly, there was a loud noise that sounded like tearing fabric. The green clouds mixed with purples and blues and began to churn faster. The cyclone emitted a flashes of bright light. In unison all three of the King’s Guard lifted up from the roof and took place underneath the eye of the wind storm.
Spirit holds her spear aloft. With one swift, commanding move she slams the butt of her spear down, creating a platform out of solidified air.
Wraith bellows out smoke and ash onto the platform to discolor it. With ferocious and precise movements his claws to carve in a sigil, leaving a soft orange glow against the black and gray.
Samhain sheathes his sword and pulls his horn from his waist. He wills his dark stead to rear up as he blows the horn, letting out one loud prolonged cry.
The three warriors stand at attention and Princess Spirit calls the winds to project her voice once more.
“ Now introducing the Ruler of the Infinite Realms, High King of the In-Between, The Great One, The Benevolent King, The Peace Maker, The Guardian of Souls, The One with the Cloak of Stars and the Crown of Frozen Light, The Perfect Balance, Ancient of Space and Reality, The Infinite King: Phantom!”
With a flash of white light a figure appear in the center of the platform. Simultaneously, the three knights bow in reverence.
The King has arrived.
As the Heroes of Gotham regain clear vision they are met with a striking figure.
There stood a toned young man appearing both boyishly young, yet wisened and weathered. He had side swept hair the creeped to the bottom of his neck. His skin was pale with an icy blue tint. He opened his eyes to reveal they shone an electric green. Upon his head rest a crown made of a crystalline material, reminiscent of an aurora. He wore a navy blue cloak that had a rich purple hood lined with stark white fur. The underside displayed a shifting galaxy pattern. His under suit was the same midnight black as Samhain’s. He donned golden arm bands and a gold chest plate in style quite similar to Spirit’s. His hand were covered in snow white gauntlets that matched Wraith’s vambraces.
They all stood in awe, beholden to the almost divine figure.
The king sent them a gentle smile. It was warm and comforting yet sent a chill down their shoulders.
King Phantom began to fly down toward the center of the city, his entourage fell into step behind him. He hovered several hundred feet over Wayne tower and looked down at the city. He then spoke in a booming voice, his tone kind but commanding.
“ I humbly greet the Lady Gotham, her champions, and her citizens,” the shadows curled toward him appreciatively. “ I am grateful for your cooperation in our effort to rectify a great injustice. As High King of the Infinite Realms it is one of my duties to preside over the afterlife. To bring guidance, peace, and justice to the souls under my jurisdiction. Recently, it has been brought to my attention that there is a soul among you who has not only dodged death, but caused great strife to a vast number of souls who call for justice.”
On the roof of Wayne Enterprises Jason and Damian both stiffen, but remain firm in their gaze toward the king. The king looks out at the city and sparing them the quickest of glances. He continues onward.
“ The man formerly know as Jack Napier, now called The Joker. He has avoided death on many an occasion but his life should have ended moment he fell into a vat of chemicals. Since then he has sent hundreds more to the afterlife. He has long yet to pay his dues. That is why on the behalf of justice, restoring balance, and of my subjects I officially condemn Jack Napier.”
“Jack Napier, you have been allowed 24 hours turn yourself into our custody in order to be put on trial for your crimes in the Infinite Realms. Should you fail to turn youself in, we shall take that as an admission of guilt and acceptance to be punished for your actions. After the 24 hours are up, Samhain shall use his horn to summon The Hunt and we shall track you down.”
His gaze passed specifically over Red Hood, one of the Oracle’s drones, Nightwing, Signal, Red Robin, and Batman before he spoke his next words.
“All those souls who have been wronged by the Joker, both living and deceased, who wish to have a hand in their justice have been invited to join The Hunt if they so choose.”
The king lifted his hand, calling the swirling green clouds to his gather in his palm. The clouds swiftly rearranged themselves into a smokey timer hanging in the sky.
An impish smirk graced King Phantom’s face as he let out a malicious laugh and gave his final decree.
“ Your time begins now!”
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togglesbloggle · 1 year
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It's interesting to me how much people struggle to intuit differences of scale. Like, years of geology training thinking about very large subjects, and I'm only barely managing it around the edges.
The classic one is, of course, the mantle- everybody has this image of the mantle as a sort of molten magma lake that the Earth's crust is floating on. Which is a pedagogically useful thing! Because the intuitions about how liquids work- forming internal currents, hot sections rising, cool sections sinking, all that- are all dynamics native to the Earth's mantle. We mostly talk about the mantle in the context of those currents, and how they drive things like continental drift, and so we tend to have this metaphor in mind of the mantle as a big magma lake.
The catch, of course, is that the mantle is a solid, not magma. It's just that at very large scales, the distinction between solids and liquids is... squirrely.
When cornered on this, a geologist will tell you that the mantle is 'ductile'. But that's a lie of omission. Because it's not that the mantle is a metal like gold or iron, what we usually think of when we talk about ductility. You couldn't hammer mantle-matter in to horseshoes or nails on an anvil. It's just a rock, really. Peridotite. Chemically it's got a lot of metal atoms in it, which helps, but if you whack a chunk of it with a hammer you can expect about the same thing to happen as if you whacked a chunk of concrete. Really, it's just that any and every rock is made of tons and tons of microcrystal structures all bound together, and the boundaries between these microcrystals can shift under enormous pressure on very slow timescales; when the scope of your question gets big enough, those bonds become weak in a relative sense, and it becomes more useful to think of a rock as more like a pile of gravel where the pebbles can shift and flow around one another.
The blunt fact is, on very large scales of space and of time, almost everything other than perfect crystals start to act kind of like a liquid- and a lot of those do as well. When I made a study of very old Martian craters, I got used to 'eyeballing' the age based on how much the crater had subsided, almost exactly like the ways that ripples in the surface of water gradually subside over time when you throw a rock in to a lake. Just, you know. Slower.
But at the same time, these things are more fragile than you'd believe, and can shatter like glass. The surface of the Earth is like this, too. Absent the kind of overpressures that make the mantle flow like it does, Earth's crust is still tremendously weak relative to many of the planet-scale forces to which it is subject- I was surprised, once, when a professor offhandedly described the crust as having a tensile strength of 'basically zero;' they really thought of the surface as a delicate filigreed bubble of glass that formed like a thin shell, almost too thin to mention, on the outside of a water droplet. On human scales, liquid is the thing that flows, and solid is the thing that breaks. But once stuff gets big or slow or both, the distinction between a solid and a liquid is more that a liquid is the thing that doesn't shatter when it flows. And it all gets really, really vague, which I suppose you'd expect when you get this far outside the contexts in which our languages were crafted.
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Just out in time to get a job!
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brewed-pangolin · 1 month
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This brain worm has been bugging me all week.
MDNI 18+
Mechanic Soap who you meet at your local body shop in need of a quick repair to your car's door. It's a hefty dint, needing structural repair and a few layers of paint. You know this and are prepared to face the irrefutable mumblings of a man who thinks you to be just some typical dumb blonde.
Mechanic Soap who doesn't beat around the bush, tells you as is that it'll take a few days to repair the inner framework and add the required layers of paint to make it seamless to the rest of the vehicle.
Mechanic Soap already meeting your standards in someone who doesn't see you as just some woman who doesn't know what she's talking about. Willing to go over, in an overly detailed manner, the mechancis and functionality of the repair and necessities to fulfill such a task.
Mechanic Soap who makes you spill out that you have a vintage '68 Shelby Fastback in your garage that you've been painstakingly putting back together. Peaking his interest while he goes over the cost of the door mend, mindlessly mumbling that he'd be willing to assist in said vintage restoration if you'd let him.
Mechanic Soap who starts hanging around your garage all hours of the day as he tends to the intricacies and overly detailed rehabilitation that had taken you years to achieve. Effortlessly bringing the rusted frame of the muscle car to life, the chassis glistening in the afternoon light as you do your best to attend to his needs while not gawking at his expert hand.
Mechanic Soap who asks for nothing in return for working on such a classic in vehicular engineering. Yet you shower him in nothing but your best of culinary skills. Feeding him after a days work with such delicacies that only a skilled baker could attain.
Mechanic Soap who starts staying hours after the sun had set beyond the horizon, making his way into the intimacy of your home as you regularly extended an invitation for him stay for dinner. Infiltrating your daily life in a way you had never dreamed. Pleading for him to keep you company as weeks steadily turned to months of courting.
Mechanic Soap who shows just how eager he is by splaying you out on your bed. Working you into a pleasured mess on his fingers and tongue before tearing his clothes away to finally bestow you a more thorough experience. His unending stamina on full display as he contorts you into every position known to man. And a few you had never even heard of. Using his well-earned physique to his advantage, pushing you to the limits of ecstasy and more than likely earning a fee noise complaints from your neighbors.
-
Mechanic Soap who finally displays his unending talents as he worked his calloused hands over your voluptuous curves. Kneading into your supple flesh as he spread you open to finally take in the feast he had been so desperate to taste. Lapping his tongue between your folds, focusing on your pulsing bud as you writhe in pleasure beneath his expert grasp.
Mechanic Soap who now makes you breakfast every morning before you go to work. Always has the coffee ready, mixed with your favorite creamer and lunch waiting on the table. Sending you off onto your day with a smile that could light up a whole city, and a peck on the cheek that stays with you for the entirety of your day.
Mechanic Soap who came into your life by accident but has now permanently etched himself into your daily routine. You can't recall what your days were like before him, and you dared not imagine them without him.
Mechanic Soap who doesn't buy you a wedding ring. He forges one from the metal bearings of a camshaft. The sparklng gem at the centerpiece is an expertly crafted piece of iron ore, polished and etched to a glistening surface that shines with an iridescence like no other.
Mechanic Soap who doesn't marry you at the altar. He proclaims his vows at a local pub in Glasgow. Whisking you away for a honeymoon in the Scottish highlands where he treats you like a Scottish queen and worships the very ground you walk on.
A happy accident that turned into a life of unending royalties, and you're in no mind to ever want to remove the crown he so helplessly placed on top of your pretty little head.
This is just a bunch of mumbo jumbo. But I had to get it out. Thanks for reading my mindless rambles.
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nasa · 8 months
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Let's Explore a Metal-Rich Asteroid 🤘
Between Mars and Jupiter, there lies a unique, metal-rich asteroid named Psyche. Psyche’s special because it looks like it is part or all of the metallic interior of a planetesimal—an early planetary building block of our solar system. For the first time, we have the chance to visit a planetary core and possibly learn more about the turbulent history that created terrestrial planets.
Here are six things to know about the mission that’s a journey into the past: Psyche.
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1. Psyche could help us learn more about the origins of our solar system.
After studying data from Earth-based radar and optical telescopes, scientists believe that Psyche collided with other large bodies in space and lost its outer rocky shell. This leads scientists to think that Psyche could have a metal-rich interior, which is a building block of a rocky planet. Since we can’t pierce the core of rocky planets like Mercury, Venus, Mars, and our home planet, Earth, Psyche offers us a window into how other planets are formed.
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2. Psyche might be different than other objects in the solar system.
Rocks on Mars, Mercury, Venus, and Earth contain iron oxides. From afar, Psyche doesn’t seem to feature these chemical compounds, so it might have a different history of formation than other planets.
If the Psyche asteroid is leftover material from a planetary formation, scientists are excited to learn about the similarities and differences from other rocky planets. The asteroid might instead prove to be a never-before-seen solar system object. Either way, we’re prepared for the possibility of the unexpected!
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3. Three science instruments and a gravity science investigation will be aboard the spacecraft.
The three instruments aboard will be a magnetometer, a gamma-ray and neutron spectrometer, and a multispectral imager. Here’s what each of them will do:
Magnetometer: Detect evidence of a magnetic field, which will tell us whether the asteroid formed from a planetary body
Gamma-ray and neutron spectrometer: Help us figure out what chemical elements Psyche is made of, and how it was formed
Multispectral imager: Gather and share information about the topography and mineral composition of Psyche
The gravity science investigation will allow scientists to determine the asteroid’s rotation, mass, and gravity field and to gain insight into the interior by analyzing the radio waves it communicates with. Then, scientists can measure how Psyche affects the spacecraft’s orbit.
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4. The Psyche spacecraft will use a super-efficient propulsion system.
Psyche’s solar electric propulsion system harnesses energy from large solar arrays that convert sunlight into electricity, creating thrust. For the first time ever, we will be using Hall-effect thrusters in deep space.
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5. This mission runs on collaboration.
To make this mission happen, we work together with universities, and industry and NASA to draw in resources and expertise.
NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory manages the mission and is responsible for system engineering, integration, and mission operations, while NASA’s Kennedy Space Center’s Launch Services Program manages launch operations and procured the SpaceX Falcon Heavy rocket.
Working with Arizona State University (ASU) offers opportunities for students to train as future instrument or mission leads. Mission leader and Principal Investigator Lindy Elkins-Tanton is also based at ASU.
Finally, Maxar Technologies is a key commercial participant and delivered the main body of the spacecraft, as well as most of its engineering hardware systems.
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6. You can be a part of the journey.
Everyone can find activities to get involved on the mission’s webpage. There's an annual internship to interpret the mission, capstone courses for undergraduate projects, and age-appropriate lessons, craft projects, and videos.
You can join us for a virtual launch experience, and, of course, you can watch the launch with us on Oct. 12, 2023, at 10:16 a.m. EDT!
For official news on the mission, follow us on social media and check out NASA’s and ASU’s Psyche websites.
Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!
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darkshelbyfiction · 2 months
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Debt Paid (Thomas Shelby Blurb)
Warning: Non-Con, Virginity Loss, CNC
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It was a Friday afternoon when you were sent to Thomas Shelby's office in Birmingham and you felt like lamb led to the slaughter, ready to be devoured whole. Your father's debts had piled up high – so high it blackened your mother's delicate complexion and buried your little brother's innocence from a pauper's upbringing. 
You had to settle these debts with nothing less than your innocence and purity. That is why you stood at the threshold of Thomas Shelby's office, your whole being shivering, your lungs collecting dust instead of air.
You could see that Shelby's office exuded rich mahogany furniture, intricately crafted wooden carvings on the walls, and large floor-to-ceiling windows offering views of Peaky Blinders territories below. Yet, despite the grandeur, it reeked of death and decay. Much like Shelby himself.
You stepped inside, softly like a cat, skulking into his presence.
Shelby looked up from the ledgers he was looking over, his dark hair falling into his piercing eyes. He was an intimidating sight, with a muscular frame and an air of authority that surrounded him like a cloak. You felt yourself shrinking before him, wishing you could be swallowed up by the large Turkish rug beneath your feet.
"You are quite a picture of innocence, eh" he said almost aggressively, causing you to shiver. "Come closer, Love," he ordered and you didn't move at first, rooted to the spot by fear and disgust.
"Please sir , I beg you not to do this. I will find another way, I promise." You said tearfully, uncertainty painted all over your face.
He didn't reply but rose from his seat, and you stumbled backward, trying to put distance between the two of you. But he moved swiftly, with a predator's grace, closing the space with each step.
He closed the door behind him and locked it, the metallic clatter of the key echoing in the silence that followed. Your heart hammered, fear gathering in your chest.
"I'm sorry," you murmured, squeezing your eyes shut as you walked towards his desk, shivering quietly. 
"Don't be sorry," he murmured back, so close behind you that you could feel the heat radiating off his body. You felt his hand on your shoulder, turning you around. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, terror written all over your face.
"Now, I don't have all day, so I need you to be a good girl and bend over my desk," Thomas Shelby ordered you , his voice cold and detached. The room spun around you as his powerful hands spun you roughly around. The air smelled of cigar smoke, whiskey, and beneath that, something you couldn't quite put your finger on—submission.
Thomas Shelby's office made you shudder, with its rich mahogany outfitting and the countless rows of books lining every available wall space. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the sprawling, prevailing Birmingham cityscape. It rendered you powerless beneath his iron grip, more vulnerable than ever.
"Please Mr Shelby. I don't - ," you whimpered, your voice wavering in desperation, but you were cut off by the gangster's hands who pushed you down against his Mahagony table.
"Sshh, quiet now," Shelby muttered darkly into your ear as he pushed you down, making you bend over against his desk. "Stay nice and still for me, Love."
Tears rolled down your cheeks as you began as you nodded in defeat while the much older man lifted up your skirt.
His calloused hands yanked your panties down your legs like a man possessed, causing you to wince in pain. His fingers found their way to your aching virgin hole causing you to stiffen and squirm beneath him. The sensation was foreign, as he slowly pushed his index finger into your dry hole.
"Fuck, Love. Your hole is so small," Thomas Shelby sneered as he continued to force his finger into you, drawing blood.  The smell of iron filled the room, but he didn't seem to care. His grasp tightened around your wrists, making you gasp at the pain.
A wave of disgust and shame washed over you as he pulled his finger out and wiped it on his handkerchief, before placing same on his desk. The white fabric was stained with blood — your blood.
You then heard the man undo his belt , followed by the loud sound of his zipper leaving you trembling as you waited for him to assault you. The clicking sound of his belt was oddly loud in your ears, and every second seemed to stretch on forever. The thought of what Shelby was about to do to you made you queasy, and the entire situation started to feel surreal.
He grabbed one of your thighs and pulled it towards him, taking his place between your legs. Thomas Shelby's erect manhood touched your behind, feeling hot and smooth against your porcelain skin.
"You know, I've been wanting to fuck you since the moment I laid eyes on you," Thomas Shelby growled before placing a hand on your cheek.
He then licked his fingers and slowly rubbed them against your dry pussy lips, wetting your hole with his spit.
"Good girl. Nice and quiet now ," Thomas Shelby whispered gruffly, positioning himself behind you and aligning his manhood with your tight entrance. "This might sting a little," he warned as his coarse, raw length poked delicately against you, teasingly. Your heart pounded in your ears as he began to apply pressure, pushing inside your dry hole without an inch of yourself prepared.
A sharp, painful intake of breath escaped your lips as Thomas Shelby finally entered you with a steady thrust. Your inner walls stretched wider than ever before as he drove himself deeper inside, your blood smeared on the tip of his shaft.
"That's it, Love. Fuck," he hissed, pulling back almost entirely and slamming harder into you. The sound of your bones meeting ripped through the room, obliterating any sensible thought. Every thrust was more excruciating than before.
Tears flowed freely from your eyes, staining the polished mahogany underneath you as you strained to break free, but Shelby kept you pinned in place, brutally pounding your aching, battered hole.
"You are so tight, Love. Bleeding all over my cock," Thomas Shelby groaned as he continued to ravage your inexperience.
With every piston-like drive, the pain intensified, yet your feminine core trooper on, responding to the intrusion with a rhythmic trembling.
And so it continued, Shelby plowing into your tightness like an untamed beast, indifferent to the silent wails you tried to silence. His crown hit your cervix with each thrust, making you feel like your insides were on fire, and your voice continued to grow louder, sobbing from the pain.
"Please, no more. It hurts, it hurts!" you cried, trying to escape the agony by inching away, but there was nowhere for you to go, caged and cornered by his overpowering presence.
"I am almost done Love!" He responded, like this was some sort of natural, everyday activity that you should be forced to put up with. Your pain seemed to excite him more, and his thrusting grew more vigorous and relentless. You were just a body to him, a hole to fill, a source of pleasure.
"Just hold still for me now so that I can fill you up with my cum, sweetheart," Thomas Shelby commanded hoarsely, his grunts and moans reaching a frenzied pitch. 
He took his time, savoring the sensation of your hot, wet pussy gripping him tightly. He closed his eyes and groaned, shuddering as he felt himself getting closer to reaching his orgasm.
"Fuck , yes, Love. I'm almost there. You're so fucking good," Thomas Shelby muttered through his gritted teeth, gripping your hips even tighter as, finally, he stilled.
He let out a low groan and you could feel the warm rush of his release as he filled you up, each spurt of his cum igniting another gasp of pain from you. He stayed there, buried deep inside you, as he caught his breath, before slowly pulling out.
You felt the mix of your blood and his cum drip down your thighs, leaving an undeniable mess on his expensive rug. Shelby stepped back, allowing you to stand up, wobbling on your feet. 
He then handed you his handkerchief and ordered you to 'clean up'. Numbly, you followed his instructions, your hands trembling as they tried to remove every stitch of him from your body. 
"Good girl ," Thomas Shelby commented, walking casually back to his desk and, after you finished cleaning yourself up, Shelby dismissed you with a flick of his wrist. "See yourself out," was all he said, as he returned to his papers, the loss of his attention sending you stumbling back to reality. Physically broken and emotionally decimated, the door slammed abruptly shut behind you.
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Prehistoric Figurine of a Harp Player, from the Cyclades (Greece), c. 2700-2300 BCE: this figurine was shaped from a block of solid marble and then slowly sanded into form using pumice and emery
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The figurine depicts a musician with a frame harp, an instrument that originated in the Near East and then later spread to the peoples of the Aegean. A sound box forms the section along the base of the instrument, and a small protrusion can be seen near the top of the harp's frame; some experts have argued that this protrusion might represent an ornamental carving of a waterfowl's head, while others argue that it represents a musical extension that facilitates the projection of sound (a feature that often appears on the stringed instruments of the ancient Near East).
This piece measures 35.8cm (about 14 inches) tall.
Musical performances like this are rarely depicted in Cycladic artwork. Depictions of male characters are similarly rare, representing only 5% of the Cycladic sculptures that are known to exist. When male figures are depicted, however, they are frequently shown playing musical instruments, as seen here.
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Figurine of a Harpist, c. 2800-2700 BCE: a similar example of a Cycladic sculpture that features a musician with a frame harp
The Museum of Cycladic Art provides a more detailed explanation of the process by which these figures were created:
As we can deduce from the few unfinished figurines that have been discovered so far, the first step in the process was to roughly shape the raw piece of marble into a figure by the impact of a mallet. Emery powder was then used to abrade the surface until it obtained the desired shape and size. Once the desired shape was achieved, the surface was smoothed carefully before the fine work of carving the details started. At the end, the figurine was polished to a high degree that is still amazing.
And according to The Met:
Many of these figures, especially those of the Spedos type, display a remarkable consistency in form and proportion that suggests they were planned with a compass. Scientific analysis has shown that the surface of the marble was painted with mineral-based pigments—azurite for blue and iron ores, or cinnabar for red.
The Cycladic Islands (also known as the Cyclades) are a group of about 30 separate islands in the Southwest Aegean, off the coast of mainland Greece. These islands contain a wealth of natural resources, including marble, emery, pumice, obsidian, and an assortment of precious metals. The prehistoric peoples of the Cyclades made use of these resources for many different purposes, but the marble figurines/sculptures that they crafted during the Bronze Age are perhaps their most famous creation.
The vast majority of these figurines are stylized depictions of the female form. The cultural significance of the sculptures remains unclear; they may have simply been created as decorative pieces/artwork, without any additional function, or they may have been used as fetishes, totems, religious idols, grave goods, or votive offerings.
Sources & More Info:
The Getty Museum: Figurine of a Harp Player
The Met: Cycladic Harp Player
The Met: Early Cycladic Art and Culture
The Museum of Cycladic Art: Techniques
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melanthaeunomia · 1 month
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A Metal Romance -Leo Valdez x Reader (Established Relationship)
A/N : Just a few drabbles of Leo, This is a late post, I've been busyy, im slowly but surely writing the stuff you guys requested, i'm so sorry this request has been in my inbox for like weeks now but i hope you enjoy!!
Wc: 1.1k
Warning : Kisses, Suggestive, fluff
"His girl" D1 (!Sweet) "Looking for a distraction" D2 (!suggestive)
Riordan verse Masterlist⚜️
"His Girl"
Skipping through, and peacefully humming as you were on your way to go to arts and craft, you were assigned to lead the class that day. until a hand from the trees pulled you by your arm twirling you as you go, a startled noise escape from your lips, making you stumble into a broad chest "Boo" "Leo!" you breathe a sigh of relief, realizing it was only your boyfriend "Don't do that!" you playfully hit him, "You should've seen your face!" He chuckled, the sun glistening on his curls as he rolled his head back, making you roll your eyes, crimson lush printing your cheeks, "why are you here?-" you cupped his face wiping a line of leftover grease with your finger "heh- i uhm.." he gulped a lump in his throat, flustered eyes maintaining contact with yours.
normally by this time he would've grabbed your waist, embracing you. but as your eyes shifted to his lower half, you noticed how he kept his hand out of sight. seemingly gripping onto something on his back, you raised your brow "i made something for you." he whispered kissing your cheek, before pulling out his hand to reveal a delicate locket resembling a a real beating heart. Intricate details that was made with precise hands "I-i thought you'd like it.." He mumbled, cheeks flushed, looking down, not being able to see how hard you melted with his gesture, taking in the metal in your hand examining the rust brown color as if a patina of ancient iron "Leo.. Its beautiful..." The pupils in your eyes itself turning into a heart shape, cheeks like the color of it. "Turn it around" he stuttered now hiding his face in his hands, you tilt your head slowly turning the locket onto its flat side, Your heart eyed pupils widening as you read the words engraved "Leo's girl" and you looked back at him, surprised when his attitude changed to being flustered into a smug look with a shit eating grin "Leo's girl?" You repeated your cheeks bursting out blood "well you are aren't you?" The corner of his lips curling into a wider smirk "Now c'mon" He took the necklace and clasped it on you himself "Its so pretty.." Your compliments only making his ego grow and his hand found its way to your waist, lips pressing a soft kiss to your cheeks "thank you.." You wrapped your arms around his neck, his hands keeping a tight but gentle grip on your waist.
"Looking for a distraction."
You were heading back to your cabin when you bumped into Charles, Who was rushing and looked panicked, carrying 6 wrapped packages "Oh! whats up?.." You asked, the boxes almost towering over you, and he apologized for his rushed antics "I-im sorry, chiron got me running errands all day, have to deliver things" He sighed almost dropping one of the box but quickly balanced it back to its position, "are you by chance going to the cabins?" he asked with a trembling smile, you nodded "Oh! good good! Perhaps you could drop this off to cabin 9?" he referred to a box that was more disheveled than the others, a box full of wires, metal scraps, and you thought for a moment, You were already debating if you should go by cabin 9 earlier so why not? "Sure!, you seem to have a lot on your hands, figuratively and physically" You chuckled and grabbed the box with the sound of metals clanging into each other "God, Thank you!" He sighed and ran off to deliver other packages
The door creaked open and you stepped inside, Your skin was hit with a gentle warmth, Then you noticed Leo, Sitting on his desk a red pen on the side of his ear peaking through his wet curls from sweat, He was focused on his work, eyes narrowed as he used his tools with precision and skill. His arms were flexing under the strain of working, his muscles rippling with strength as he put his all into the job, like a sight for sore eyes, adding to the heat of the moment. Out of focus, You hazily dropped the box, missing the table it was supposed to land on, the metal scraps hitting the ground with a loud clash and startled you out of your day dreams "who's there?" he turned his head back, a smile curling on his face seeing how you quickly gathered the scraps back into the box. "What are you doing here?" He asked heading over to help you "Oh uhm-" Your breath hitched as you noticed the way his stained shirt was clinging onto him, showing off his muscles, You coughed, clearing your throat "I-i was just dropping off a package" You managed to utter out, cheeks red as a rose. He fake pouts "awh? so you weren't here to visit me?" he said fighting a smirk, You grew more flustered as he helped you off the ground "M'kidding Amor" He chuckled, God you despised that accent and the way it makes you shiver.
"Are you busy?" You asked, Going over to examine what he was working on his desk "Quite" He whispered, Towering over you from behind, his hands rested on your waist "Though.. I wouldn't mind a distraction" he smirked turning you over to face him, his hands grasped your waist and lifted you, You squirmed under his grip "Leo-" You screeched, then he brought you up to sit in his desk, whatever tools there was before, now dropping down on the ground with a thud. "warning please! god.." You groaned, and he laughed "M'sorry," The two of you close enough that your breath brushed his nose, He couldn't help but grin as he looked at you, those eyes seemed to lure you in with ease "You look pretty" Leo reached over to run his hands on your thigh, a shiver running through your spine as your cheeks turned flush red. Your legs subconsciously wrapped around his waist "I always do" You snickered, pulling him closer "Indeed.." he leaned forward, his hand on the edge of the desk for support and the other gently gripping your thigh "What do you suppose we do now?" He whispered near your ear, pressing a kiss to your jawline making you squirm.
"Well.." your breath deepened, as he traced circles on the side of your thigh "Mmm~ I'm listening" He hummed placing soft kissed on your neck, a gasp escaped your lips, Your fingers absent-mindedly run through his Damp hair "L-leo.. no.. we shouldn't" You sighed deeply, His eyes shut tight from the feeling, “mmm~ you’re right… we shouldn’t.” He mumbled before leaning down to whisper again, his breath hitting your neck with each syllable, “we shouldn’t… do this…. Without locking the door.” He grinned, Your eyes widened, and you lightly push him away hiding your flustered face "Relax, i was just teasing you" He giggled when you playfully hit him, and he pressed a soft 'innocent' kiss on your lips.
Requests!⚜️ Riordan verse Masterlist⚜️
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cowgirlcherrie · 10 months
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❍ ACERBUS ! ━━ ellie williams.
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⤹ pairing: vampire! ellie x slayer! reader
synopsis: the undead is restless, and an immortal blood sucker arrises for her last dance on earth. Beholding a slayer who has greater plans to lower the blood hungry vampire back into the ground
content: 18+ MDNI! blood mention. death/ talks of death. violence. betrayal. gaslighting. manipulation. hunting/killing. v similar to buffy the vampire slayer. kissing. talks of sex but not directly smut, smut adjacent honestly. vampire! slayer! abby but strictly platonic to the reader. L-Bombs. betrayal. weapons (no guns just daggers n stakes). Ellie is super damon salvatore + katherine coded in this. food play(with cherries). biting. sub-ish loser! ellie. Toxic/dark! ellie
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Adficio. To weaken, discourage. To damage or to break.
Adficio was your finger. Coated in the saltiest vibrant red, gooey, and thick. Liquids dripped down the sides of the cushioned flesh and flowed never-ending through you. It tasted metallic, iron pulsating through the liquid; and salty, overly salted. Your tongue ran over the edge of your finger at your paper cut. It stung miserably but you had to get back to work.
As if it wasn’t already late, the sun setting with a musky burnt orange across the sky peeking through the rounded church glass windows of the artifact museum you were ecstatic to go home. Excited to take the warmest shower until the water was scorching hot against your skin and sleep comfortably in your queen-sized plush bed.
You weren’t expecting any more customers this evening, especially with recent town curfews due to mysterious deaths you were preparing to leave right after the key twisted in the lock. With 20 minutes left until closing, you finished dusting off the case of the bookshelf, putting the cream coffee-tinted paper (with your blood still tinting a corner) away into the hefty black book with gold embedded in the spine. 
It was an interesting piece of literature, somewhere amongst the lines of old-town supernatural lore and purely fiction but you loved it. It made you hungry, yearning for just a bite wanting more, wanting to sink your teeth into your own flesh. It was important and delicate thin papered copies; and faulty legal documents about a vampire who was rumored to live forever. Pictures; missing from the pages with the name scribbled out in white out. No gun, no knife, no magical life-threatening injury could kill her and she was forever cursed with the pain and treachery to live forever. Although you knew it wasn’t real you still felt yourself being a conspiracist and empathetic. Almost remorseful for the forever young vampire who didn’t ask for a life of immortality. Everything was a little unfair, even for the mundane. 
A bell chimed, signally that someone had walked into the museum. Thick-soled boots against the dark wood, creaking beneath them with every step. Shunned light on a lanky and average-height girl, drenched in black from head to toe. You naturally ignored her presence, that was what the bell was for; for questions and giving you the excuse to actually be bothered. So you continued your lonesome activities as proceeded. Picking up your thick wool scarf, wrapping it around your neck in loops; turning off the monitors, and locking the registers. 
DING! 
Ellie hit the bell with a toothy smirk on her face. Eyeing your figure almost as if you were a bakery-crafted treat as Ellie ran her tongue against the tip of her pointy canines. 
“Hi” 
Just Hi? You scrunched up your face in confusion at the girl’s rather awkward and sudden intro, her voice was raspy yet soft n direct but she kept her communication clear. If you were being honest she looked dead. Skin pale and drained of any colors besides her cheeks and the root red on her lips, sunken circles around her green ember eyes. She didn’t even look real.
“We are about to close so any prolonged question can wait until tomorrow.” you confessed, keeping it short and sweet, as the girl in front of you only frowned. 
You turned your back for a second, reaching into the mini locker behind the desk to grab your coat and your keys, pulling the fabric closer to your chest, when amidst the silence —
DING! 
Ellie hit the bell again, making you groan as you turned slowly to look at the auburn-haired girl showcasing a sarcastic smile before reverting her face to a serious expression. 
“I am Ellie, and you…you look like you can help me” Ellie whispered sweetly; playfulness rang in her voice as she looked down at the black book that are on the counter. Drool almost dripped out as she looked at the book with her lips parted. 
“Did you miss the part where I said we were—”
“Closing soon, yeah yeah I got it. Don’t care, Listen I just need this book and I promise, I’ll be out of your hair” Ellie pleaded bringing her hands up in a prayer position as she gave you a pout. Slowly gliding her ring-coated fingers against the book, making you rush to pull on it from the other end.
“Sorry not for sale! This isn’t a library” 
“But it’s…fiction, right? You can make another one” Ellie pulled it into her more, her hands slightly overpowering the grip you had on the book.
“Rules are rules, nothing leaves this museum if it’s not rented” 
“So what I am hearing is I can have it?”
“For $100”
Ellie gasped.
“For free? thanks!~” Ellie gave one final tug loosening the book from your very hands and pulling it into her chest. 
“I’ll be back! [HEY!] Don’t worry! Don’t stress probably not with the book! [That’s stealing!] Not if it’s rented! Thank you for your help!” Ellie shouted as she bolted out the door, sticky fingers webbed around the book as she ran out.
Making you let out an exacerbated sigh at the odds. You were so going to get fired. 
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Adiuvo  To help or to aid, to assist
If someone told you that the museum book thief would be your girlfriend you would have told them they were lying. It’s been 3 months since the two of you met; 2 that you have officially started dating, although it didn’t feel like it. 
Ellie was more secretive than you thought. A mansion to herself where she lived alone which was oddly dark and gothic, you were for certain she would have caused a black paint shortage. Her house was emblematic of a period piece from the 19th century almost a screenshot of a fragment of time. The only odd thing was the mirrors being covered in every corner. A black satin cloth draped over the gold ribbed mirrors almost stapled there with a DO NOT TOUCH! 
Ellie hated pictures, she hated phones and settled on a rather outdated Blackberry where she really could only text and make important calls.
Ellie also disappeared often during the day, you only ever really saw her when it was rainy or pushing 8 pm. She’d go ghost on a sunny day but made up for it by pampering you with gentle kisses until you were coated in purple at your neck. 
For all of her cons; sins and flaws; aka the disappearing act she made up for it every time. She made it impossible for you to leave. Caging you in by gifting you things that only a fool would leave behind. She gave you a gift of a dainty necklace, as her hands rubbed against your neck to your shoulders placing it right at the center, locking the clasp, and begging you to never take it off. Ellie’s hands didn’t move from behind you when she gave you the necklace that night. It was almost as if she tempted to choke you with it until you listened to her. So you nodded, grabbing onto the little charm, before bringing up a hand to your nose; scrunching your face up at the weird smell the necklace was emulating. Almost like rosemary, thieves, and rotting onion. But you didn’t ask questions, you couldn’t before she whisked you away with a brief kiss to your lips, nibbling at your moisturized lips. 
“You love me, right?” 
You loved her. With all your precious human beating heart you loved her. Loved her so much that you allowed her to get vulnerable with you that night in the bedroom.
Bashful yet bitchy and sarcastic Ellie became demonic, rough, and perfectly submissive. Ellie was a sucker for fruits. The one human food that didn’t make her stomach queasy and the only thing that could satisfy her cravings for your blood. Preferably all red to enhance the eroticism of the taste.
Ellie found passion in draining the juice out of cherries, swirling her tongue over the plump treat poking her fangs out, before dipping her head down gliding the juices amongst your neck from her tongue.
Ellie repeated this action again. Taking the gentle cherry and squeezing it over your neck, swirling its juices onto your skin with her slender fingers before chewing it whole. Licking her finger tips as she swallowed the fruit whole tossing the pit to the floor.
Ellie watched as your neck dripped the dark crimson liquid, rushing to lick it up; before any of it reached your sheets to leave a fresh splosh stain of red. Ellie was drunk off of the sight of you. Licking over you like a lollipop as her tongue scraped your neck, getting close to your ear.
Ellie lost control.
between the bittersweet taste of the cherries, your fresh and loud perfume it was driving her crazy. Ellie thought her head was screwed on tight, but smelling the scent of one she would call her lover Ellie wanted to do nothing more than cover you in her own. Mask you from the world, hiding you away in greed and hunger.
Her hands gripped at the sheets, fist balled up as she masked a moan struggling to do so when your hand was in her pants. Ellie unfolding like a red lace satin ribbon until she was nothing but a soul. Climax rising deeper…and deeper. You were rubbing up and down in between her folds as she shuttered to hold herself up. Your fingers wet and covered in her juices enough for the wetness to fill the room with a simple pat.
Ellie took the initiative to dig her own hand in between your sleep shorts, mirror your hand motions as the lewd sounds escaped your lips in pure appeasement. Clawing at her back like a cat with your freehand.
Ellie was heavy breathing as her pitch got louder and higher, hips bucking as her hair clung to her forehead in fits of sweat.
Ellie turned into nothing but a moaning mess that night. Shrouding her head in your neck pampering kisses until she couldn’t control the cobra shake of her sharpened fangs pricking her tongue, offsetting her tastebuds. No, she couldn't.
Ellie's mind was shouting a mixture of no's and yes's as she tried to pull away only for you to pull her closer. Ellie let out an animalistic growl muttering an oh fuck before she sunk her teeth into your neck.
“Fuck…wait” Ellie moaned out. She was glad you couldn’t see her face, eyebrows furrowed but her eyes a deep red as veins started to crawl through her skin preparing her to finish off the feed.
Ellie knew if she fed off of you she wouldn’t be able to stop. Until you were one of her, a vampire and your beating heart stopped. Like Ellie needed you, she needed the book; she was going to complete the prophecy.
It starts with you, her perfect pawn.
You tasted like a rich pomegranate in the summer, Ellie’s fangs pulsating as it was deep in the flesh on your neck. Shaking your tender flesh in between her teeth like a dog.
Ellie didn't draw blood but punctured the skin, wincing at the sound of your skin separating between her fangs through her gentle ears. You pushed her away squeezing your eyes closed in pain. Skin pulsing and stinging as her mouth left your neck.
“Ow!- did you just…did you just bite me?”
The redhead stopped, freckles coated a red flush amongst her pale skin, Ellie rambled a hundred sorries. Like a deer gone hunting the cherry juice stained her chin and around her mouth as if she had been messy eating and playing into a ruby lipstick. Stumbling and tripping over her feet as she rushed to put her shoes on and head for your front door as you shouted her name behind her.
Her hair was frazzled, her leather jacket discarded, and her fly unfortunately down.
Leaving you in a mess of saliva and cherry juice; with a pulsating bite mark in your kneck.
48 hours and a complicated reddit search later, with Ellie out of your hair; due to her shame and embarrassment was enough time for a blonde hair slayer to play witness protection.
You were steadily growing frustrated at the repetition of the doorbell ringing as the person on the other end was hitting it like a childish teenager playing ding-dong ditch. Rushing to the door slamming it open to be met with a tall buff blonde who was giving you a perfect smile. Likewise to Ellie, she was notably pale, the color drained from her face almost fading away to her hair making her look like a stoned statue. Thick raybands on her eyes as she held up a terribly condition detectives badge.
“Sorry to cause a disruption, but are you y/n?” The girl spoke up, leaning into her one arm that was posted up against the door creating a distance before the two of you. 
You remained silent pushing your knit cardigan closer to cover up your chest in the nippy pre-winter air. 
“I’m Abby, Abby Anderson and I believe you know someone who is being a threat to this town.”
You froze, eyeing Abby in front of you as she dug around into her leather jacket pocket, plucking out a very old square picture. Placing the picture face down into your hands allows you to unveil it as if it were a gift. Curiosity got the best of you, aching and throbbing fingertips as you vastly whipped it over to view your lover. Your heart felt as if a chain wrapped tightly around the delicate artery feeling as if the wind had knocked out of you. It was Ellie. Your Ellie but this time she was wearing Victorian clothing, a white blouse peeking through as it was a perfected headshot photographed with just the right amount of dusting and age. She was the missing piece of the book. The name scribbled out it was all her -- the book was all hers.
“I don’t…” you begin flipping the picture back over and putting it in front of Abby, with your hand out “I don’t know who this is. . .”
“I knew you would say that”
Abby snickered as she looked down rubbing her boots against your welcome matt, 
“I think its time we chat. Could I have a glass of water please” Abby sends a smile as you prepare to turn your back on the blonde in front of you
Abby was always ahead. Ahead of Ellie, ahead of you, she had been hunting for years. After an accidental bite forced her to succumb to vampirism, life only got hard. Abby shrouded herself away finding comfort in putting down ruthless bloodsuckers who had no better job than to compel humans and make them into a tasty blood margarita. Abby didn’t want the same fate for you. Watching Ellie like a hawk; perhaps a stalker. It was all for a good cause. Ellie was awfully sloppy with how she carried the people she fed from. Sinking her teeth into an innocent being as she drank…and drank until their bodies fell cold and limp against the pavement. Ellie let out a sly moan in satisfaction as she watched the life get sucked out of her victims. The blood dripped down her chin, blood-drunk as she laughed in satisfaction as she licked the blood off of her fangs, and from around her lips being careful not to waste a single damn drop. 
Ever since you got in the picture, Ellie’s sloppiness got worse than normal, her drinking patterns have gotten sloppier, and parts of her brain toyed with her. As she strolled the streets at night looking for her midnight snack, sucking the salted liquid through her fangs with her luscious eyes closed, fluttering against the tip of the apple to her cheeks. Ellie saw you. When her eyes closed she pretended that they were you, hell she would never actually do this to you but she couldn’t get your toxic scent out of her mind. Moaning into the neck that she feeds whispering your name as her fangs dig in deeper and suddenly she loses all control, killing the being in the process. Ellie was deeply flawed; allowing a human to get in between the priorities of her stone-cold heart, but whatever she wanted she was certain she would have. 
“I think you have to invite me in first, it’s impolite for me to walk into your wonderful home without permission” Abby confessed, lying straight through her teeth, she didn’t care what was right or wrong she just needed permission or else she wouldn’t be allowed in. 
Deja vu hit you, remembering how Ellie made the same statement the first time she came over to visit you apart from the museum. 
“You may come in”
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Acerbus  Bitter, gloomy, and dark. 
Vampire. 
That was a word that was enough to make your stomach curl up into a million knots.
The cold ones. 
No one could have prepared you to put your girlfriend to rest. The person who you saw forever with, wanting to get married and have a couple of children too, was all nothing but a lie and impossible. It was so refreshing to you, like a kiss of air, and nature healing itself, but slowly your emotions and your joy turned into a rotting flower, decaying along with all of your emotions tinted black. Over the course of a few weeks, you’ve sharpened your knives and coated your doors in some kind of vampire repellent given to you by Abby. The blonde has taught you how to hunt and detect vampires, the power of the stake, and what unfinished business Abby had with taking down Ellie.
Ellie on the other hand, you haven’t seen in a few days. Maybe it was because you were distracted; the auburn girl turning to nothing but a whisper and rattle of the leaves, spiraling into another one of her disappearing acts. 
Now you stood at her very own tombstone, which seemed rather distasteful; bless you, but you were trespassing. Trailing behind Abby like a lost puppy as she took a hammer, drawing back her arm to slam onto the lock that was Ellie’s above-ground grave. Abby came up with a bright and elite plan on how to trap Ellie back at the museum, but the two of you couldn’t have done it without the weapon that knocked her into a stone coma for ages. No, it doesn’t kill her, but it would slow her down and freeze her until it was time for her to be brought back; which would be never. You thought it was beautiful, fresh marble and sleek black with roses surrounding the front entrance into her small 4x4 square, which the main entrance was blocked by a gate — with a hefty lock which you assumed was where Ellie’s casket had been placed. 
“The roses are fresh, I think it’s best if we hurry” Abby whispers, matching the tone of the wind that was spirling above the two of you.
Abby took her hands dragging them down at the lock which opened the gate to Ellie’s tomb. The inside was barely lit, with unlit candles surrounding Ellie’s coffin that had the lid wide open with chains dangling from it. Modern-day gothic– and eerie to the touch. As you took careful steps walking around it; it seemed almost impersonal. You wanted to cry and shrivel up, that the way you’d been living for 3 months was a lie, running your hands around the perimeter of her coffin as if you were looking down at a body inside. But there was nobody and you knew the worst would have to come for Ellie to soon return to her rightful place. Abby however got right to work, brushing past you to tap every corner of the brick, reaching for Ellie’s casket, and digging through the built-in cushions. Abby grunts until she stops when her fingers prick a sharp tool. 
“Ow!... I got it” Abby hissed as she pulled out a thick and sleek shiny silver dagger with Latin scriptures engraved into the handle and metal of the knife. Abby briefly wiped it against the leather, twirling it in her hand before taking a bag of mercury and dipping the tip of the knife into the material. All you could do is watch, stake in the back pocket of your jeans that was covered by your jacket. 
“So what now?” you pushed, putting a hand on your hip.
“We get the fuck ou—-”
Abby stopped talking briefly pulling you into a shadow, blocked by a pillar making you go unnoticed.
“What are you—” 
Abby shushed you, reaching a hand up to cover your mouth as you now heard what Abby was hearing. Strong, sloppy footsteps, walking into the tomb as the gate to the entranced creaked.
The stranger groaned before letting out a sniff into the air. 
“Y/n I know you’re here.” Ellie croaked, her voice slurring as she limped towards her own casket hovering over it with a loud creak as your body shook beneath Abby’s gentle touch. 
“The cats out of the bag babe, fuckin’... let’s just talk c’mon” Ellie pleaded as her boots squeaked against the floor as she was visibly pacing. 
You shook your head as Abby briefly turned your body around whispering to you.
It’s the only way. 
With that Abby pushed you out from the hiding spot making you let out a yelp as you stumbled onto the floor in front of Ellie. She looked demonic, unreal almost. Blood dripping down her chin spread against her chest, and her hair was a filthy mess. Her once-green eyes glowed a sweet red under the pale moonlight as she watched you crumble on the floor trying to stand up.
“There you are~” Ellie teased as she took a few steps towards you making you crawl back.
“Thought we were gonna have to play hide and seek glad you’re so smart” Ellie taunted as she turned around kicking over a few candles surrounding her casket. 
“What did you do?” You shouted, groaning as you used the nearby wall to push your weight up.
“Who did you kill?” 
Ellie laughed. You frowned; disgustedly watching as Ellie only laughed at your panicked state. She thought your fear was funny, she could smell it off of you. 
“Why? You scared?” Ellie jabbed tilting her head with a really? expression on her face. 
Ellie reached her arm out for you to take which you stared at as if she was infected, so she took it back rolling her eyes. Ellie slid off her leather jacket and threw it onto the floor at your feet giving you a perfect view of her spaghetti-strapped cami and the tattoo on her arm.
“I think of you when I feed you know…as my teeth sink down into someone so innocent, like a deer…”Ellie began as she walked towards you slowly making you walk backward moving away.
“Get away from me” you gritted taking the stake out from your back pocket and crossing it over your front pointing side up.
“Ooh~” Ellie teased as she walked even closer until the stake was lined up with her heart. “What are you gonna do, kill me?” Ellie whined giving you a false pout similar to when you first met her in the museum and she stole the book.
“Not even a kiss goodbye?” Ellie taunted, as her body hovered over yours pressing deepening to the stake that was carving into her shoulder.
“Only you could hurt me like this, god what are you doing?” Ellie whispered, with that the waterworks came through as you started to cry, sobbing viciously letting out cries of “get away” as she was in front of you.
“Shh…Shh…Shh” Elie started grabbing at your arms with a firm hold from the base of your wrist gripping tightly. “Don’t cry” Ellie comforted you as she kept one arm around yours holding the dagger and another one up at your temple to which she leaned in giving you a kiss on the cheek staining your cheek with blood. Not her blood or your own but someone else, making you cry even more.
“I don’t- I can’t…we’re over Ellie” You cried out, sniffling in between sobs as your head dropped in defeat. 
“I’m sorry I lied to you. . . I’m sorry for what I did. . .I can’t control it, you know that right?” Ellie took a large gulp as she backed away from you shaking out her hands. Ellie was suddenly getting nervous, panicking at the way you were crying.  “I just get these urges, I only feed when I want to feed off you so I don’t hurt you. Babe, please listen to me”
“I have to kill you.” You dropped the bomb as Ellie’s sudden panicked state turned defense; she was getting angry and hostile. “I let you into my home…I let you kiss me, I let you fuck me and you didn’t think once to tell me who you really were”
“How is that fair?”
Ellie was numb, staring at you; her lover with a deadpanned expression on her face, deprived of any emotion, she was being straightforward “If you are gonna kill me don’t use that it’s not gonna work” Ellie spat, backing away as she walked over to her coffin staring down at the white cushioning inside. Finally wiping her chin with the back of her hand. 
“You’re gonna let me kill you?” you inquired, lowering the dagger by your waist as you watched Ellie watch over her own coffin.
“Only you. Because I know eventually you’ll miss me and take it out and set me free.”
“You don’t know that” you shook your head.
“But I do, I always do” Ellie took the initiative to reach into the coffin similar to how Abby did when the two of you first entered the tomb, patting the bedding as her eyes scrunched up in confusion as she looked away from you.
“Wait where is it”
You knew what she was looking for.
“Y/n what did you do with the dagger that was in this coffin…god what is that smell who is in here with you” Ellie was growing pissed off; anger nagging at her as she was looking control again, fangs poking out on instinct as she grew hostile within the room.
“It’s just me…” 
Ellie shook her head closing the coffin. “No someone else is here I can feel them” 
“Ellie…it’s just me” you whispered, trying to convince her as best as you possibly good. There was no way she would buy it, but you could lie your ass off and hope she wouldn’t sniff out the hound. 
“You can’t kill me with that, I say you just go for it and let whoever took the main piece finish me off” 
“Ellie I can’t—”
“I love you!”
You froze, you were her lifeline her weakness. The tether that kept her together as your soul was indefinitely embedded in her own. I love you, so sentimental and meaningful you didn’t wanna use it lightly and in this moment you knew she wasn’t using it against you. 
“Hey…shhh don’t cry, I love you” 
You had no time to prepare, lost in her lustful green eyes, pupils dilating at the sight of you. As Abby snuck behind her, stabbing Ellie in the back making the both of you let out a gasp. Ellie looked down to her chest seeing the dagger poking through the other side of her body. Black blood pooled out and meshed with her black camisole. Ellie tilted her head to look at you, who had your arms steady around her shoulders so she wouldn’t tip over. Your Ellie gave you a faint smile. Your fear-stricken face, eyes wide as you looked at Abby who paced around Ellie to see if the dagger even worked. 
“H-have…fun”
“What?” you jabbed, face scrunching up in confusion. Ellie didn’t look afraid to die, hell she knew you would need her. Her words slurred as she was slowly succumbing to an endless slumber. 
“Have fun, my blood is….blood ‘n your veins…I’ve put…I put my blood in your tea. Good luck being a vampire baby fangs”
Baby fangs. 
Abby shouted NO! Behind you, but it was far too late. Ellie took out her hidden arm revealing a similar dagger to her very own; raising her arm up reflexively to jab it into your own neck as your blood started to pool out. No, it wasn’t going to kill you permanently. However, it would trigger a death into human you and allow you to become what Ellie was. What you tried so hard not to be. 
A bloodthirsty vengeful vampire. 
You panicked at your slow-beating heart; transcending you into a state of permanent drowsiness and immortality. Beats moving slower and slower as if your heart was put in a freezer locker and your body was chilling over. There was nothing you could do, it was too late. Tears pricked your eyes as a salty clear tear dripped down your face as you felt yourself lose consciousness collapsing on top of your already stoning lover. She betrayed you, the sneaky sly fox was ahead of you. A wolf in sheep’s clothing 
“I told you I loved you.”
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© cowgirlcherrie
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honeyed-latte · 5 months
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Thinking about a Hiccup that ran away with Toothless after the episode in DoB where Berk thought the Gods were angry at Toothless.
After his electrocution did nothing to prove to the others that it was the metal, Hiccup instructed Stoick to remove the posts- and ran. If Toothless wasn't welcome, then neither was Hiccup, which suits him just fine.
Hiccup spends all his time rescuing Dragons, hoping from island to island to help, and he forms a sanctuary of his own in a way. He and Toothless head it as a two-man defacto Queen.
The island that would have been Dragons Edge becomes Hiccups Sanctuary, this brings his warpath to The Hunters front door and after skirmish after skirmish, hunt after hunt, auction after auction is upended and the dragons all freed. Money and men being lost by the handfuls, Viggos attention is most thoroughly snagged by who his men are calling "The Black Blight".
He doesn't believe them at first, who would? A man in all black on the back of a Night Fury pushing back all their operations away from the east, getting all too close to their bigger centers for Viggos comfort.
He comes face to face with this Blight not long after he confirms the mans existence, he knew where he'd hit next and patiently waited for the mystery man to rear his head and eureka, there he was, right on schedule.
It's surprisingly less violent then Viggo anticipated for a warrior his men had taken to calling such a... resonating moniker, but it was fitting that his guest is so sure of himself.
Hes a tall, slender thing doused in blackened sturdy armour, the kind of creature that moved with confidence and calm assurance even surrounded by Viggos Hunters. He was impressed by the candor and the mind that lurked beyond the empty, inscrutable eyes of the sleek helm, but they have mush to discuss if this was going to end in a way that favoured them both.
Viggo isn't surprised when the Dragon Master agree's to talk things over as opposed to battling it out, neither of them are unreasonable after all, but he is surprised when he takes off that intimidating (and beautifully crafted) helm and the man under it...is hardly a man at all.
A boy, rather, a feral and beautiful boy with eyes as quick and green as his Night Fury's.
Once they're properly introduced, they talk.
And talk.
And talk.
And drink.
And talk...
Until they find common ground, until they find agreement; Viggo will learn how to more reliably supply his economy with trade, non-lethally and without the selling of dragons while letting the dragons he currently housed free, and in return Hiccup will help Viggo expand his reach to make up for the gap in his gold and stop attacking all Hunter ships.
The sun is high up when they sign their names to the document outlining the agreement, its a thing that makes the feral scoff, what good is the name of an Exiled viking really, but who cares if it makes Viggo stop hurting dragons.
They work together, closely together, to make sure neither of them goes back on their word. True to form, Hiccup teaches Viggo how to appeal to a dragons gentler nature, and Viggo opens up Trade in the east- scaled armour, recycled metal and scrap from traps, Gronkle Iron, weaponry.
They help eachother scout new dragons, forge new inventions to trap and release them. They end up being a Team more often then not as the Hunters undo their years of harm, and Hiccup undoes years of loneliness (in Viggo and himself.)
Slowly, Hiccup and Viggo enter a more romantic relationship as well, they're a perfect match and together they build a stronger empire. Hiccup is free to come and go as he pleases, he saves even more dragons with Viggo as his partner, and having Hiccup around further soothes Viggo's people- he's a kind man after all, helpful. Even if Ryker loathes him, even if Viggo is at risk of assassination at the hands of old allies, even if Hiccup see's Berk less and less. Its all worth it, because they have eachother and they're making the world safer for dragons.
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dungeonmalcontent · 10 months
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In d&d, goblinoids are in this weird place.
They're crafty and cunning, but most lack intelligence (representatively, at least). They're in tune with nature in a weird way, and they're technically fey, but they're almost never portrayed as fey. They're capable of industry and wickedly clever designs but are not masters of craft or artisans.
They are the creatures originally intended for cannon fodder that players of ttrpgs kinda fell in love with. They represented a lot of bad tropes, and so we tried to change them but we were not fully capable of washing away the complicated history on them.
When I run goblins as a society. They aren't lesser. They aren't stupid. They aren't bad. They just haven't been given opportunity as a culture. They're outcast as a race of beings, never welcomed in to communities where they'd learn things and have resources due to how different they are. They also tend to be what happens when you get a very diverse heritage (in a sort of roundabout description way). Elves and orcs and dwarves and gnomes and everything. You get fey pointed ears, you get darker green and brown skin tones, you get this thin figure that's surprisingly durable and hardy, they're short, they're nimble, they're good with they're hands, they can work iron. The list goes on. Heck. Sometimes I give them horns.
I also like to rule that they do the best with what they're given. They can't get access to raw materials, so they scavenge what they can. They get metal from slag dumps and pan out the useful bits. Thier cloth is a mixture of scrap hide and recycled trash. Goblin alchemy is slightly more refined because they can gather most of what they need from nature, but glassware is almost always unavailable and so they are limited in what they can make.
And this whole thing makes goblins frustrated. Why are they the ones left out? Are they just monsters to the rest of the world? They have aspects of every other type of humanoid to them, but they just don't have enough of any one thing to be welcome among the other cultures. But when given the chance to shine, goblins can really show that they're diamonds in the rough. And not really all that rough to begin with. Not rough at all. Just a diamond cut another way.
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vermutandherring · 5 months
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The original building is located in Lviv, Ukraine. Rich Renaissance architectural forms combined with Baroque motifs are the main features of the building of the former Galician Savings Bank. The construction of the savings bank, managed by Zygmund Kendzerskyi, was completed in 1891. Since 1951, the building housed a museum, which today is the Lviv Museum of Ethnography and Art Craft.
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The facades are decorated with rust made of broken stone, yellow brick, majolica, forged metal decorations, which were made by the Lviv factory of Piotrovich and Schuman. Attention is drawn to the large metal grills on the windows and the wrought-iron gate, made by the Lviv workshop of Jan Dashek.
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The corner semi-cylindrical dome is decorated with Leonard Marconi's allegorical sculptural group "Frugality", symbolizing the economic progress of Galicia.
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It's hard to believe but I didn't use any pose packs while making screenshots. I tested the gameplay and, surprisingly, sims sat down at the tables normally, and the waiters delivered the food and cleaned the dishes.
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This moment was too funny to ignore it.
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The rest of the restaurant is occupied by the bar, but sims hardly hang out there.
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More info, screenshots and DOWNLOAD HERE (always free).
Custom content by @syboubou @felixandresims @thejim07 @lilis-palace @teanmoon @sims41ife @pinkbox-anye @blueteas @hydrangeachainsaw @annachibisims and others~
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kentstoji · 4 months
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ㅤㅤCRYSTAL.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤparing. platonic hotd x reader. + male!oc x reader.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤsetting. house of the dragon. ㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤtype. headcanons (tw. future yandere)
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤthe battle of a woman was waged in her birthing bed, surrounded by blood and sweat. alicent hightower forced herself to accept this reality when her father officially made her a political pawn in an endless game of manipulations. the prize was the hightower blood immortalized in the twisted metal of swords forming the iron throne.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤaegon was an easy birth, without concerns. fragile helaena presented herself to the world silently, carrying a tranquility that would follow her later. and y/n was fire and blood —perfectly embodying the words of her house, her father's house.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤconsidered a jewel in the eyes of the court and engraved in the memory of popular imagination, y/n was the third child of the union between viserys targaryen and alicent of house hightower. she inherited her father's gentle and pacifistic nature, trying to cling to blood ties to avoid conflicts.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ(and when her mother whispered in her ear that helaena—or even she—would be the queen, the young girl looked away, coldly ignoring the treacherous poison. however, in her heart, she lacked the strength to stop loving her mother.)
ㅤㅤㅤㅤshe was often seen in the company of her siblings, helaena and daeron. despite loving and respecting her relatives equally, aegon made her feel disproportionately uncomfortable, and aemond easily left her aside, seeking acceptance from rhaenyra targaryen's children for not having a dragon.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ"no, thank you!" y/n declined with a plastic smile when her mother suggested accompanying aegon to keep him in line. "i promised to help my sister, with little joffrey."
ㅤㅤㅤㅤand, as usual, she pretended not to feel the dissatisfaction emanating from the queen at the mention of the realm's delight.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤcriston cole made it his personal mission to escort the princess to the vicinity of princess rhaenyra's chambers. and she had to admit that he at least tried to conceal the growing disdain in his stern features. he even managed to control his cruel tongue, much to the young princess's relief. deep down, she was aware of the vision cole had crafted regarding her: immaculate, chaste, and flawless.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤthe maiden herself.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤy/n's confidant, addam celtigar, chuckled upon hearing the youngest princess's account. his broad shoulders shook violently as whispers flowed through her lips, revealing an unpleasant revelation.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ"and who will protect our little princess from criston cole?" addam inquired, not losing his characteristic good humor.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ"you're terrible!" there were no courtesies or falsehoods between them. there never were.
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thestuffedalligator · 11 months
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Once upon a time there were seven dwarves.
They were the dwarves’ dwarves, the grey-bearded masters of their trades. They were the craftsmen of such crafts you never see today, and they had come together to make a machine.
An autonomous, mechanical miner, they said. A machine that will never fear falling stones or firedamp. It’ll revolutionize the industry, they said, change the face of history.
Plans were drafted, gold was soldered, and in the heart of the mountain they bent metal around their dream.
It was a masterpiece. Iron black as ebony, mithril grey and glittering as a winter morning. In its head, gold circuitry clung to crystals as blue as the belly of icebergs. It was a thing of beauty.
It was also alive; worse, it was kind, and gentle, and unfortunately easy to love. And one day as it babbled through its language processor, it said, “Dad!” and seven heads perked up in a moment of mutually embarrassing recognition.
From that moment on, the seven agreed to raise the machine as their own child. And the seasons passed happily around the mountain until one bitter summer.
It was never known where the apple had come from. A jealous craftsman, possibly, or a seriously waylaid sorceress. But one day the dwarves came home to find it locked in the steel grip of the sleeping mechanical girl.
Cunning and clever as they were, not one among them knew how to wake her. Wizards and warlocks were sent for, and each walked away pulling their beards in frustration.
But at the last – truly last – there was a young magician, who knelt and whispered in the ear of the mechanical girl.
The cavern held its breath. Even the stones were listening. Then gears began to spin. Gold circuitry crackled. And all at once she woke. The dwarves fell amongst themselves, sobbing happy tears into their beards and holding their mechanical child.
And from the clowder, one asked the young magician how they had done it, where wizards and warlocks and the great craftsmen of the dwarves had failed.
“All you had to do was uninstall apple,” they said.
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