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cerastes · 3 months

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Do you think at some point early on in Arknights the intent was to be a buildup to a more critical look at Rhodes as more morally grey than it first appears? Because when I started the game I was so sure that's where it was going. Popukar probably being one of the first characters you get, the idea of SWEEP, the understanding I had at the time of darknights doctor and y'know, the villains being who they are. I just thought it would be more of a thing.

I don't think necessarily, I think the intent was always to posit Rhodes Island as "as good as you can get while still being a relatively major power but not quite as big or resourceful as a state". I do think it bears mentioning that child soldiers/children and teenagers with a job as a concept don't seem to really carry a stigma as they do in the real world: The only real times in which these are painted in negative lights are when the conditions or results of these decisions end up in something negative:

Popukar was clearly indentured labor at the lumberyard. The part that's condemned is that she was miserable and practically a slave, not really that she was working per se, and she's given a job by RI later after Kal'tsit personally gets her out of there.

Frostleaf's being a child soldier even before Rhodes Island isn't really all that condemned, the effects it had on her psyche is.

Absinthe, just orphaned, is made a Rhodes Island Operator. This notion isn't rejected or truly contested, no more than "maybe we can send her somewhere proper for care". Hell, all the Ursus kids also get made into Operators.

Even outside of this, we hire children frequently: Bubble, Suzuran, Shamare, you name it. Sure, each has a context, especially Shamare who is Fucking Haunted, but the matter of the fact is that Rhodes Island isn't just housing them, it's also showing no real qualms with them taking the Operator Testing Battery and, if they succeed, hiring them. It's mentioned several times that Rhodes Island has many non-combat roles -- Angelina used to be a Messenger for Rhodes Island before taking the Operator test, Orchid was offered a desk job at Rhodes Island initially, and Weedy was a Rhodes Island researcher who explicitly worked out and trained so she could pass the physical components of the test -- but there's no real turn of eyes when a child says mmmm yeah I'll do the Battlefield Supporter Battery please, thank you.

Amiya is, you know, the CEO of Rhodes Island, and that IS pointed out in a "damn, fucked up" way, but what's being lamented is not her having a job, it's her having a BIG difficult job. I think no one would bat an eye if Amiya was a regular Operator under Theresa instead (granted, because she's the owner's daughter, but even without that link).

These are some examples of in-universe logic regarding the whole child soldier and kid with a job. I'd wager it's because life expectancy in Terra is pretty damn low from what we've gathered: Armed conflict, crime, Catastrophes, Oripathy, there's plenty of ways to kick the bucket in Terra, much like it was in Ye Olde Ages in real life, which is coincidentally an era in which by 16 you already were an adult and were expected to start having adult responsibilities.

Pre-Amnesia Doctor was definitely not a stellar person but it's always understood that they weren't bad as much as broken: Scout put it best that it broke his heart to have seen this kind educator and fun, loving individual become a heartless tactician. Even when described this way, though, it wasn't like Doc became this Brooding Evil Mass, it's still mentioned plenty that they were pretty beloved by most people and a person they liked being friends with -- Ace, Scout, and Amiya all corroborate this, and in flashbacks, you have Theresa being pretty warm with Doc -- but if you were a footsoldier, Doctor was probably your worst nightmare because you were disposable -- W, Ines, Hoederer and Flamebringer can tell you as much -- so we had less a villain or a vile individual and more a broken individual who was remolded into someone that could withstand the immense psychological pressure that came with having their role. That's not to sanitize pre-amn Doctor, it's to echo the game's own words on them as per the characters in the setting that knew them from back then, and who held both positive and negative opinions on them.

Looking at all of these from an in-universe lens, they all have coherent in-universe explanations. I also think they would have foreshadowed any sort of Rhodes Island Insiduous Vileness with characters or actions by now: Less than stellar, antagonistic high command, dubious orders to do some vile stuff, other such things. The closest we get to this is Kal'tsit hating Doctor's guts, but also Kal'tsit is a really good person and her hatred of Doctor stems from her knowing them pre-amnesia, seeing how that happened, and what Doc did in those times, particularly one big event that's pretty lore relevant.

You may have noticed the elephant in the room [SPOILERS FOR PEOPLE NOT DONE WITH THE REUNION ARC YET]: I didn't address the enemy part yet. That's because that's the part that I still have some conflicted feelings over: The real enemy, in the end, isn't Reunion's ideals -- which are shared with Rhodes Island -- but rather it's what Reunion has become, a false flag operation for the Ursus Empire to justify a war. On one hand, I like that, on the other, I do think it's something that should've been more graciously hinted at in the very early chapters, because in those very early chapters, you REALLY are rent-a-cops in essence, putting down the people you set out to help. Of course, it's not that simple and there's a nuance as to why and the business dealings and all that, but given the relative simplicity and pace of the early chapters, it really is easy to see it come across that way.

It does, however, ring consistent with what we were previously talking about, though: The essence of, more than the act or thing in itself. Or, in other words, in Terra, the onus of things seem to be placed on the result or context surrounding something more than that something in itself: Child soldiers are fine, unhappy and in-risk child soldiers are not. Teenagers with jobs are fine, teenagers with huge stressful jobs way out of their league are not. Revolutionary movements are fine, revolutionary movements with civilian casualties are not. And so on. There is DEFINITELY commentary that can be had about this, mind you, but that can be for another post in another blog.

With this in mind, I go back to what was first said in this post, I think the idea was always to posit Rhodes Island as "as good as you can get while still being a relatively major power but not quite as big or resourceful as a state".

#arknights

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understanding-hold-on · 8 months

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a complete list of Blackbeard's crimes for anyone wondering.

initially shared by Lindsey Cantrell, part of set decoration department(linds_cantrell on insta), but I found it on firiel14's page:)

all of these are so fucking funny. not just "communism", but "communism(whatever that is?)"

everybody is referring to how awful and bad Edward's crimes were without Stede, while he was just delivering babies without permission from the government. how could Stede resist.

id under cut.

[ID: a very beaten up piece of yellowish paper, with a list of crimes in various orders:

"SHOPLIFTING - HORSE RUSTLING

IMPERSONATING A VICAR- DISTURBING THE PEACE

CLIMATE CHANGE DENIAL

TRESPASSING-BEAT POETRY

SMART CASUAL ATTIRE AT A FORMAL FUNCTION

EXCESSIVE SPEED WITHIN A HARBOUR

IMPROPER USE OF A DIVE SIGNAL FLAG

OFFENSIVE SEMAPHORE

UNLICENCED MIDWIFERY

WEARING A WIG AS A HAT

PROPPING UP A MINOR DICTATOR

FAILING TO SIGNAL AT A ROUNDABOUT CHANGING THE WORD "GOD" TO "DOG" IN "GOD SAVE THE QUEEN"

COMMANDERING A COFFIN

EXCESSIVE MIRTH AT THE FUNERAL OF A WORK COLLEAGUE

FLASHMOBBING

PARDONING A WAR CRIME

IMPRISONING A CAT

DEFACING THE PYRAMIDS

CONSPIRACY THEORISING THE SACRED GEOMETRY

ATHEISM

PROLIFERATING RELIGIOUS PROPAGANDa

"COMMUNISM" WHATEVER THAT IS

WITCHCRAFT

POTTING IRONIC ASHTRAYS

BOOTLEGGING ABSINTHE

DILUTING GUNPOWDER

BREAKING CURFEW

CREATING CURFEWS

PLAGIARISM

IMPROPER CITATIONS IN AN ACADEMIC DOCUMENT

NEITHER CEASING, NOR DECISTING

PROVIDING INEQUAL OPPORTUNITES

STICKING IT TO "THE MAN'

BEARING FALSE WITNESS

CART RENTAL UNDER A FRAUDULENT NAME

ECHIDNA TRAFFICKING

GENOCIDE (PROBABLY)

RENTING OUT AN UN-INSULATED ABODE

INCITING (A) RIOT(S)"

end id]

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd 2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd s2 #edward teach #blackbeard #and his henious crimes #(he did prop a dictator but they were a minor so i think everyone was okay)

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shoezuki · 2 months

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I dunno why but I feel like Gepard can handle liquor. Like Sampo has the gift of bein smart knowin his limits and what to drink and when, so he gives off the vibe of being able to handle a lot but he's not that heavyweight. He's jus big brain conman XD. Get enough in him n he'll go down like the rest.

But Geppie. Man's sippin vodka from the bottle and not even slurrin his words. When he was a trainee the older guards decided to prank him with a glass of absinthe n called it a weak alcohol only for him to get halfway and not even bat an eye, only stopped cuz it tasted like ass. Dude takes the path of preservation seriously. Even his liver is beyond destruction XD.

Which is why I find two situations very freakin funny, which I'd love your opinion on:

1) Sampo starts up a drinking competition with him. It's on one of his guardian mandated holidays, so Gepard doesn't have to be responsible, and Dove 3 in 1 won't leave him alone anyway, so he agrees. Partway thru Sampo realises he's losin but Gep insists on gettin the drinks so he can't even cheat his way to victory. Cue Gep having to drag a very drunk, incredibly flirty Sampo back to Natasha but he keeps running off. Even being drunk doesn't stop him from havin smoke bombs up the wazoo.

2) Sampo manages to cheat, scheme, girlboss his way to victory. He comes out on top but now has the problem of an incredibly drunk, dangerously curious Silvermane Captain who won't stop flooding him with the oddest of questions. "Why are your eyes so green? Is your hair natural? What happened to the rest of your shirt? Do you really enjoy crime or is it jus something you fell into?" Whi- okay that one was oddly specific and he doesn't have the capacity, as tispy as he is, to answer.

He really needs to get him back home, before he asks the wrong person the wrong question, but isn't cognitive enough to face being questioned by Bronya and would sooner die than face Serval. So he opts into takin him to one of his more obvious hideouts which poses 10 million problems in and of itself when he keeps freakin touching everything!

ANON YOURE RIGHT YOURE A FUCKING. GENIUS. I been thinkin bout this A LOT ACTUALLY prob cuz for some reason fandom seems to lean towards gepard bein a horrific lightweight (i mean i know Why the lightweight trope is very much seen as 'cute' and childlike n whatever but i digress). But tbhtbhtbh i agree w u 100% like.

Gepard is a Tank of a Man. Homie can handle anything. Mfer the living embodiment of preservation like dude could be like 'serval this drink sucks' and hes gulping down perfume, unaffected. Dudes prob ate weird shit out on the front lines n questionable rations. The stuff in his fridge is expired n hes jus shrugging and eating it anyways.

I think w sampo its like. He SEEMS like he can handle his liquor. And hes not bad w it. But hes an Actor. Mfer could be plastered and you wouldnt know. Dude could convince a breathalyzer that hes only a Little Tipsy. But theres a threshold for him where he jus Caves at some points. Like u said tho man is Always competent w bombs. Like drunken boxing but w daggers dude could be blown over by a gentle breeze but still kicks ass.

I imagine that gepard doesnt Usually drink in that he jus. Doesnt care much. But absolutely his drink of choice is the hard shit. He jus has whiskey w ice or vodka w tonic water like a freak. Maybe a white russian if hes feelin zesty. When his guards convince him to go to the bar n challenge him to take shots he shrugs n jus packs them back no big deal.

But oh my god like. The 2nd scenario. I imagine it in order like first sampo realizing gepard has an Inhuman tolerance n making it his missiom to get the good ol captain fucked up. N it takes a while but like. Gepard jus gets more... blunt. But in a strange soft questioning way where he asks the things he wonders bout but never says aloud. The kinda soul reads like 'sampo youre a criminal not because you need to be but because you enjoy the thrill and attention right?' N sampo is just like holy fuck. But its like his inhibitions are gone and hes so Curious about everything and everything. He hangs onto sampos every word n it drives sampo crazy

#alcohol mention #sampard #anon im holding you. we r holding hands.#i like gep being a sturdy lad. like. a tank. nothing shakes him. someone tries to poison him but he doesnt notice #getting stabbed is a mild inconvenience ok. all the silvermanes get food poisoning from the cafeteria food one day except him.#except wine fucks him up a lil quicker #who knows why bsbsvdjddh #anon #ANOTHER ALTERNATIVE: gepard is the 'can i have a sip of your water?' 'its not water' 'what' 'its vodka'

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kai-anderson-whore · 1 year

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The evans (what they're like drunk)

•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•..•°˚˚°•.•¤❅¤•.•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•. .•°˚˚°

Tate Langdon:

okay so I feel like tate would be so fun to get drunk with

•until he thinks of something sad then your his shoulder to cry on

•you'll probably end up crying too

•but besides that he'll play nirvana on repeat and will make you dance with him to about a girl

•you will definitely make out at Somepoint during the night

•that's the type of friendship you both have

Kit Walker:

•now kit is a pretty relaxed when he drinks which in my mind is probably like a few beers at night once the kids are asleep

•I'd imagine him with a record on probably elvis or sinatra sitting on his chair with you in one arm a cold beer in the other

•he'd be more loving when he has a drink or two in him placing kisses on your shoulders telling you sweet nothings

•just blissful

Kyle spencer post- death:

•now as we all know Kyle is a frat boy so he'd be a mess if he's completely hammered

•but he's the responsible one so that doesn't happen often

•he'd make sure your safe and that his frat brothers don't do stupid things

•but if he get so drunk he'd be like "y/n do you know how much I love your cute face" with smoochy lips 😘😘

Jimmy darling:

•we've seen it in the show he has his moment when he's drinking

•like tate one minute he can be happy singing songs that pop into his head without a care In the would to being all sad or angry if its missing his mother or just something stupid that pissed him off

•his hands will be all over you without a doubt he's a horny drunk

•you would tell him no if you are sober but if you drank with him then your going at it all night let's just say

James patrick march:

•Now as we all know james likes his whisky and absinthe and being dead he could literally drink anyone under the table

•he doesn't get wasted probably thinks it's distasteful but he did a few times before and let's just say he's a helpless romantic even drunk

•would literally shower you with live and affection and if you don't let him he's a whiny bitch

•"darling What's the matter please hug me" "James you reek of booze" "this is an outrage"

Rory monaghan:

•Rory will bombard all his social media platforms with videos of a night out like he would post every detail of the night

•instantly regrets it in the morning when he's hungover

•will definitely do weird dad dances and would want you to join him so he's not alone

•I feel like he's the type of drunk that would need to be on one of those backpacks kids have so they don't run away because the second your eyes leave him he's off and it will take ages to find him

•he would be one of those drunks that ask so many weird questions no one knows the answer to like "how are humans actually put on this earth it doesn't make sence"

(Kai Anderson)

•Now kai would stop drinking because he needs to stay sharp for the cult but if he's having a very bad day he would drink his problems away or fuck his stress out of you

•he's an angry drunk for sure would constantly snap at anyone in sight and throw glasses in the room

•if your there you could possibly calm bim down sometimes it's a no go but you try your best

•would definitely try and get into your panties but you say no because well he's drunk but kai is consistent and will not take no for a answer

(Jeff pfister)

•Jeff wouldn't drink since he's always off his tits with the coke but he might mix them both on occasion

•he would blackout not remember a single thing at all

•probably would make out with mutt since he's completely wasted

•would wake up the next morning with mutt not remembering a thing which freaks him out because he could had probably committed a crime and he wouldn't know but you were there the next morning with a photo gallery full of videos from the night before

(Austin sommers)

•Now we all know austin likes his alcohol but he also likes to still be fully aware of what's going on around him

•but once in a blue moon he would get hammered which he would never be away from karaoke singing all the cheesy hits like cotton eye Joe or barbie girl

•once your both home he would ask you to pamper him with face masks and what not, so you both lay on the bed with a face mask on some more whisky laughing and joking (I think this could be a fic?)

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my-52-weeks-with-christie · 4 months

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Absinthe: Why "Absinthe made me do it!" Never Caught On, IMHO

Amongst the treasure trove of Golden Age mysteries, we find Sherlock Holmes enjoying his seven percent solution, Philip Marlowe’s prodigious drinking makes the characters in Mad Men look like teetotalers, Elizabeth Daly pitted Henry Gamadge against a heroin addict in Somewhere In The House, and Dorothy L. Sayers engineered a plot where Lord Peter Wimsey broke up a cocaine ring in Murder Must…

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#Absinthe #absinthe made me do it #Absinthism #agatha Christie #book cover #book photo #book pic #Craig rice #Georgette heyer #golden age mysteries #mistresses of mystery #my 52 weeks with christie #mystery #mystery trope #queens of crime #wild books

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cookie-crumblr · 2 months

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The Ghost of New Burrows

F!Reader x Masked Yandere OC

Part 5~

His Info📂☕️

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: FEM READER, Reader has a vagina, reader smokes and drinks, unprotected sex, p in v, rough sex, breath play, pet names (good girl, ), public sex (kinda. in a separate room), Creampie, exhibition for a sec,

Note from Cookie: I was listening to this for this part,

06:38, The Mesosphere, South Elegance District, New Burrows

“Detective,” His feathery breath against your lips, and his hand wrapped dangerously tight around your throat.

Good Gods how did you get here…

“Detective,” Fiorentino gets your attention.

05:04, Outside The Mesosphere, South Elegance District, New Burrows

Even in the daytime, even without the rain, New Burrows is shrouded in hazel grey darkness from the smog that blurs the horizon, and blots out the sun.

Crime and seduction doesn’t wait for the night to happen here. It doesn’t have to.

He offers his arm to you, His suit jacket exposing his loosely worn watch, a dare to all to just try and steal it, see what happens.

“And where were you just now, Detective?” A soft smile adorns his lips, an unusual sight to you, since you’ve only ever known this man as evil.

You take the offered arm, “I don’t even know to be honest.” You cant recall what you were thinking about. Probably absinthe, and your next cigarettes and one night stand. You chuckle.

“I was going to accept your answer, but now you must tell me,” He leans down to reach just above your eye level.

Your face warms, “Get away, hah,” you playfully push him, you are his date tonight, and he’s not exactly making you uncomfortable.

This whole thing is just…

Weird.

But,

Maybe you’re not too good for the Underworld…

“alright,” he relents, “by the way, The dress looks amazing on you. Thank you for obliging an old man like me,” He takes his turn laughing.

He bought you probably the most expensive article of clothing you’ve ever seen. Of course you’d wear it. You didn’t want to look out of place, but with this dress you might look too expensive for even this event. Whatever it is.

oh well, better to look more, than less.

“I’d of been a fool not to, and i don’t even know how you got my measurements correct, it must have been some work,” You tell him.

“I’m good at more than a few things, Detective.” His head remains high on his broad shoulders as he escorts you inside.

05:49, The Mesosphere, South Elegance District, New Burrows

You were light headed as soon as you stepped foot inside the establishment. Never have you breathed air so fresh, even with most of the patrons smoking something in here.

They can afford to cycle fresh oxygen in a place this large!?

And is that… The sky?! You’ve never seen a blue so pure… The floor to ceiling windows all around you display the real sky! the sun, the white fluffy clouds you read about as a girl, the whole shebang.

He walks you over to them, hand on the small of your back, it’s truly breathtaking.

You remained constantly flabbergasted as the servers practically roll out the red carpet for this man. Attending to his every need, no matter how ridiculous it sounds to you.

A feathered cushion for you, whole bottles of expensive (and real) wines, crystal ashtray, you name it this man just made this place a second home. or third… “How many do you have?” you ask absently before thinking to stop yourself.

“How many what?” His smile is playful.

“Homes… do you have?” You make a somewhat shy gesture, for some reason you feel nervous around him.

“I only have one, but i do have a few offices” He takes a long drag of a real cigar.

You think of how unfair this world is, and all the innocent people you can’t even protect, living in poverty. You almost blurt something about it out before the lights dim.

Some people with masks eerily similar to The Ghost’s enter the stage, wheeling out something large under a thick cover.

“What’s—”

“Auctions” He answers simply. Smoke spills from his nostrils, like he’s a large, greedy dragon. You take note of his red jeweled rings, set in gold bands. One silver with an emblem that looks like it could have been a wax seal. You don’t recognize the symbols, but you try to memorize it to sketch later, and research.

Your attention is drawn back to the stage when they start to remove the thick black velvet cloth.

In a dramatic motion a cage is revealed, and inside…

Your eyes widen, as your heart pounds.

“What’s going on!?” You whisper loudly to Giovanni, “Why is there a person in a cage!?”

“You’re the detective,” suddenly his smile is much colder now.

You sip your wine, and look away, nerves becoming too much to bare. Your cloth napkin falls over and you notice something’s written on it.

It’s facing away from Fiorentino thankfully, so you take the advantage of his next distracted moment to subtly read it without moving it around too much.

“green door at 6” it’s written in a script that looks classy enough to be anyone here. They’re left handed, or at least ambidextrous, judging by a small smudge in the fabric.

“I have to use the restroom…” It’s already 05:58 now, if you want to find that door you need to, now.

His huge, thick hand pulls you back down, landing you in his lap. “Do you now?”

“Yesss, sir,” You squirm and give your best pout trying to endear yourself and really sell it. “I reaally have to go!”

He relents, but, “The bathroom is that way, Degective. Don’t go wandering now.”

Damn.

“Thank you!” You try and sound relieved and think it works. He’s back to his cigars, and auctions.

Thankfully, you spot the green door, it’s right next to the bathrooms!

You look at your watch, 06:12.

He’s in a mask, but his mouth is exposed.

It’s him.

Your ghost.

You almost want to… Hug him?

“You were supposed to be here at 6” His lips move hypnotically.

You don’t know what comes over you in that moment, but you are undoubtedly drawn into him.

Your mouths almost collide, when you feel that familiar slender hand in your hair, yanking you back. He closes in around you with his body, bringing his mouth to your now exposed throat.

“Y/N, you think you can cheat on your date with me?” He tuts, grazing his teeth against your exposed skin.

“I… Can’t stop thinking about you…” You admit.

“What a good girl, admitting that to me,” His voice takes on a cutesy kinda lilt.

“Please…” Your body is burning, had you been expecting it to be him in here waiting for you?

You certainly hoped so.

You don’t even think about the human on stage right now, you can’t fathom it. Not right now.

In the city you tried so hard to protect… What horrendous things happen just behind the hideous guises of pretty faces and classy dresses. They’re animals.

You’re a star, he makes you burn like one, he orbits you like another. Right now the rest of the people outside are just the debris of planets, and moons, and asteroids revolving around you both.

Their gravity isn’t oppressive while you’re a binary star with him.

His hand wraps so tightly around your throat, that you see spots immediately, and your gasp is cut short before he loosens, and tightens again.

his mouth trails bites down your front, he’s moving the slit of your V neck dress off your shoulders and exposing you. Teeth graze your rib cage and you’re already drawing blood from your bottom lip. Eyes squeezed shut tight, as if you’re shy, and head turned to face away.

How does he make you feel like this?

You can’t even bring yourself to ask him any of the questions on your mind. Some detective you are, and right now you don’t even have a smidgen of remorse for it.

“Detective,” His feathery breath against your lips, and his hand wrapped dangerously tight around your throat. “I want you here with me right now.” He growls. “You’re always somewhere far away. Stay with me.” His hand tightens, and your mouth hangs agape for air you cannot get.

His lips take yours, tongue dancing with yours, making you so dizzy, you’d fall if he wasn’t holding you up with his knee between your legs.

Traveling down now, his fingers find the slit in your dress and tickle you on their way to your sex. They press down on you over your panties, rubbing hard between your already wet slit.

“You weren’t this wet last time,” He smiles into your kiss. Suddenly he picks you up and your dress is hiked around your waist, you’re on top of his erection and you grind down letting out pleasured moans, not even caring how loud you are.

The ghost chokes you again, this time as he bucks up into your core, a squeak is all that comes out of you, and he lets out an airy chuckle, at how cute that was.

“Last time…” You say, as he’s moving your panties out of the way and rubbing his thick head against you, prepping you for his entrance.

His breath chills your bones as he steals yours, staring into your eyes, his amber spheres through the mask hold you as if wrapping around you and squeezing like his hand on your throat, his eyes constrict something in you as well. You can’t help but keep staring back, as he slides up into you, and sighs into your open mouth, giving you the only air you can get. it tastes like him.

Dangerous, and intoxicating.

You wish this moment could last forever, have you ever felt this good? while the world around you crumbles, you’ve found something at least with this man.

He pulls out fast and thrusts up faster, you bounce onto him. He is leaning against the wall for more leverage as he fucks up into you with an increasing pace.

Before you know it you’re coming onto his cock, and he immediately slows down to an almost painful pace, picking you up and sliding you back down.

“How’s my good girl feelin’?”

“‘m not yours” You mumble as your head lols backwards, and sways to his rhythm.

He lets out an airy chuckle that has you clamping around him.

“If you stay this tight I won’t be able to move”

You clench just to spite him.

He smacks your hip hard.

In a split second he’s moving again, spearing you so deeply, you want to cry. His hot tip kisses your cervix with every upward thrust, and without even realizing it fully you’re coming again.

The way your spongey walls contract and pulse around him has him groaning into your ear now.

“‘Wanna stay inside you forever,”

“Then do…” You just say it, “please take me there… The Island” You gasp and moan but get the words out the same, and he slows down again this time seeming to contemplate.

“you mean it.” He seems to tell himself that.

His thrusts get jagged and swift, pelting your guts in just the way you always wanted, he has you screaming now.

“Gabriel.” He grunts.

“What?”

“My name. Say it.” his voice is a gruff snarl. Your brows peak with pleasure and your toes curl so hard you may cramp. “Say it.”

“Gabriel! Gabriel!! Gabriel!!! Fffuck!!!” You scream to the Mesosphere. The sunlight outside, not filtered through smog, the blue sky through the windows as you came in.

He comes loads into you, hot, thick ropes of his seamen paint your walls a beautiful new shade.

He’s still pummeling you, with splashes of your mixed juices hitting the floor, when that green door opens, and it’s your date standing in the way, napkin in hand, and eyes ablaze.

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sitp-recs · 1 year

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hi love! how's your day? do you have some pics where draco is a seer? thank you

Hello anon! Sure, I do know a few fics with seer!Draco. Hope you like these:

Love has left a printed trace by @maesterchill (M, 1k)

In France, in bed, they are one.

Phoenix by @iero0 (T, 2k)

It’s salvation, it’s redemption. It's what it takes for Harry and Malfoy to be reborn.

The Seer's Flat by @vaysh11 (M, 3k)

A Seer in love is a dangerous thing.

suburbia by @iero0 (M, 3k)

A street full of houses. All look the same. Red brick, white frames, dark roof. House after house, front lawn after front lawn. Suspicious peeks through curtains, ill-disguised. Dogs bark and cats roam. Draco's ability, the Sight, is the worst in areas like that, where what’s on display is so disgustingly different from what’s hidden behind closed doors and minds.

A Malfoy Always Pays His Debts by Candamira (E, 9k)

I owe Potter and a Malfoy always pays his debts. Even when doing so comes at a high price.

Déjà Vu by @maesterchill (E, 11k)

After being released from Azkaban, Draco Malfoy begins having peculiar visions, which turn out to be premonitions. Gradually, with the help of his unusual gift, Draco becomes a rather useful member of society. He also has dirty fantasies about Harry Potter, but that's nothing new.

embrace the deception by swoons (M, 13k)

Draco Malfoy shouldn’t feel like the stable one, not when he spends his days pretending to have clairvoyant powers and solving mysteries with Neville Longbottom. Harry Potter, however, seems to be on the edge of a breakdown, and he’s growing increasingly obsessed with his former rival.

Visions No. 33 to 35 by Ischa (E, 17k)

In which Draco is a Seer and artist, living with Pansy and Luna in a secluded house, working on occasion with the Ministry of Magic (not that he's thrilled but solving crimes from afar seems like a worthy cause on some days) until Vision No. 33 brings Potter to his doorstep.

Peeking behind the Curtain by @wellhalesbells (M, 23k)

Draco sees things he really, really wishes he didn't. If only to get out of all the homework that comes with it.

tissue of silver by fearlessdiva (M, 76k)

A love story concerning possessed furniture, black silk pyjamas, courtroom drama, premonitions of doom, assassination attempts, Death Eater yoga, absinthe, bare feet and a sensible werewolf.

all the western stars by @oflights (E, 78k)

Draco is a Seer who has been struck with terrible, uncontrollable visions of the deaths of everyone around him, triggered by touch. He retreats to an Unplottable Black family cottage to research his condition and fix it. Things are going relatively well until Harry Potter shows up at the cottage with a furry condition of his own.

Bonus: fake seer Draco 👌🏼

i demand to dig my own grave by @bonesliketambourines (M, 21k)

Draco finds himself in hot water with the Aurors, and in a burst of panicked inspiration manages to wiggle out of it by claiming to be a Seer. There's just one little problem– Senior Auror Harry Potter, the Prat Who Lived, who's known him for a decade, knows full well Draco doesn't have a single psychic bone in his body and seems determined to pull him up for it.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #seer Draco

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styrbear · 7 months

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The Red Anise Runners.

I decided to make my Lackadaisy OCs into their own little crew. specialising in selling a very unique liquor, a bright red Absinthe, because if you are already going to break the law, might as well SUPER break the law with a drink that was already outlawed.

Also! There is a new boy on the block. Setsuna, a Japanese immigrant with a past in the Yakuza. He wants a quiet life, but he just can't seem to shake the life of crime. Edward and Bella you've seen before.

I am gonna try keep working with this concept, maybe some micro comics.

#lackadaisy #lackadaisy oc #crime #gang #trio #lackasona #lackadaisy fanart #red anise runners

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is-the-19thcentury-man-okay · 7 months

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How do I keep my 19th century man from drinking too much absinthe and moving into a brothel full time?

Ah, the age-old question of how to prevent a 19th century man from setting a course for dissipation and decadence!

There certainly is a good selection of temperance literature out there. You might try to warn him of the destructive power of alcoholic spirits with a powerful set of illustrations like 'The Bottle' (1847) by George Cruikshank.

The 1848 sequel by Cruikshank, 'The Drunkard's Children', shows the effects of prostitution and crime on the same unfortunate family.

A prisoner lies dying in his bed, his life ruined by earlier frivolity. Coloured etching by G. Cruikshank, 1848, after himself.

They're highly melodramatic and were huge media successes in their day—and hopefully, Cruikshank's cautionary tale can make a difference with your 19th century man. Good luck!

#is the 19th century man okay #asks #1840s #george cruikshank #the bottle #the drunkard's children #dissipation and decadence

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dingbat-fonts · 8 months

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The back of Blackbeard's wanted poster

Plain text:

Shoplifting

Horse Rustling

Impersonating a vicar

Disturbing the peace

Climate change denial

Trespassing

Beat poetry

Smart casual attire at a formal function

Unlicensed midwifery

Excessive speed within a harbour

Improper use of a dive signal flag

Offense semaphore

Wearing a wig as a hat

Propping up a minor dictator

Failing to signal at a roundabout

Changing the word "God" to "Dog" in "God Save the Queen"

Commandeering a coffin

Excessive mirth at the funeral of a work colleague

Flashmobbing

Pardoning a war crime

Imprisoning a cat

Defacing the pyramids

Conspiracy theorizing the sacred geometry

Atheism

Proliferating religious propaganda

"Communism," whatever that is

Witchcraft

Potting ironic ashtrays

Bootlegging absinthe

Diluting gunpowder

Breaking curfew

Creating curfew

Plagiarism

Improper citations in an academic document

Neither ceasing, nor decisiting

Providing unequal opportunities

Sticking it to "The Man"

Bearing false witness

Cart rental under a fraudulent name

Echidna trafficking

Genocide (probably)

Renting out an un-insulated abode

Inciting (a) riot(s)

Please air further grievances below

#ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd s2 #ofmd #our flag means death season 2 #our flag means death #blackbeard #plain text

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skarlette1 · 5 months

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Pearl Girls: Where I Belong

--The final chapter of the Pearl Girls series.

Can it really be a single semester since I was given a pearl necklace that turned me into an unwilling sex worker? It seemed like the ordeal had gone on for years. But it was finally over. Finally.

That seductive necklace had turned me from Alexis Ames, PhD, adjunct professor at Skarlette City University (and secretly the superheroine Argent) into “Professor Pearl Girl”. As a mind-controlled tool of Club Absinthe, I had spent the last few months as little more than a sex toy at the beck and call of the Club’s pearl-level members. I hadn’t conceived of any way to avoid that fate until three days ago.

The last seventy-two hours since Yvonne Yates had broken my necklace and set me free had been a whirlwind of activity. As Professor Alexis Ames, I’d helped the police to liberate of all the Pearl Girls of the Chloros Neriada Sorority. Although most of the girls had tried to destroy their necklaces before they could be removed, we’d managed to recover a few pieces. Some would be used as evidence in the prosecution of the pearl-level members of Club Absinthe that had benefited from the Pearl Girls’ services. I’d also delivered several necklaces, well-sealed in reinforced titanium cases, to Libido League Tower. Platinum Panther and Sammie Sims would study their circuitry so they could protect us from threats like this in the future.

I’d given hours of testimony to the police and district attorneys about the inner workings of the Pearl Girl network and its infiltration of the highest levels of Skarlette City University. Dean Dickinson had already resigned in disgrace and it seemed likely that most of the trustees would do the same within the week.

I’d also told the authorities about the theft of antiquities that Lyta Leasch was supposed to be delivering to the museum, although I couldn’t quite bring myself to speak her name. The police were easily able to identify Lyta as the archaeologist in question. Unfortunately, she’d already withdrawn her life savings and left town for parts unknown. Even her husband, Grant Kerry, had no idea where she might be—at least none he was willing to share with the police. I’d considered approaching him as a colleague to encourage him to help with the investigation. But, after all that I’d done to him under the influence of the pearls, I was certain that I was the last person he would want to see.

Even though Treasure Tartarus looked likely to escape justice for her part at the center of all of it, I’d wracked my brain for ways to make her pay for her crimes. But the thought just kept sliding out of my head. It was mainly because I was so very tired, but to be honest, some of it was because of how much I still wanted to kiss her.

By the time the authorities had asked me all their questions, even my superheroic stamina was flagging. It was the middle of the night and there was nothing left for me to do but head back to my penthouse, collapse on my bed still dressed, and sleep. My dreams were twisted visions of glinting pearls, ruby lips, and smoking-hot sex—proof that all those months as a Pearl Girl couldn’t be wiped away as easily as crushing a necklace.

I awoke with the sun already high in the sky, my muscles stiff, and my crotch sticky. The mists of my dreams melted in the morning sun like the memory of how passionately I had been desired as “Professor Pearl Girl.” I dragged myself into the shower and let the streaming water wash away the physical residue of my ordeal, cleansing my body from scalp to toes. The emotional fallout would be much harder to scrub away. I let the water flow over me for a long, long time. Its soothing hiss and warm caress slowly helped to center me in the here and now: The first day of my post-Pearl Girl life.

Looking at myself in the mirror, the difference from four months ago was striking. Argent’s short, no-nonsense, honey-blond hair had become long, platinum tresses that reached nearly to my waist. Alexis Ames’s thickly arched eyebrows that enhanced her look of intelligence had been plucked down to thin lines that made my whole face look weak. Tentative. Needy.

Worst of all was the lost confidence in my eyes. As a professor, I knew my subject area, inside and out. As a superheroine, I knew my powers and how to use them to help people. But I didn’t see any of that in my eyes—only a woman filled with regret at her past failings, and profound doubt that she had the strength to avoid them in the future. Now that I was free, I had no idea what I wanted, other than stopping those who had taken advantage of me. Did I want to return to the classroom, where so many of my transgressions had taken place? Did I want to return to active duty with the Libido League, where I would constantly worry that my fantastic powers would fall into the service of a supervillain due to my weak will? Did I want to try some other path altogether?

My stomach growled. I guess at least one part of me knew what it wanted. I wrapped a silk robe around me and headed toward the kitchen. The Italian tile was cool on my bare feet. Halfway down the hall, I was greeted by the smell of fresh coffee. I had barely been here during my time as a Pearl Girl so I couldn’t believe that the coffee maker was still functional.

I walked into the kitchen and found Crystal Creese—my personal shopper and sometime domme—standing at my stove. Wearing a stylish burgundy sweater, black leather skirt, and crimson leather boots, she was … cooking. “According to the news, Alexis, you’ve been through one hell of a semester. Exceptional circumstances call for exceptions to my rules, especially about how I treat you going forward. In addition to your closet, I’ve stocked your pantry. Pour some coffee and fetch the plates. The frittata will be ready in a minute. I’m sure you need some protein. Then you can tell me all about it.”

I stood with my lips parted, unsure of what to say. I wasn’t surprised that she’d gotten into the penthouse, I had given her a passcode for the private elevator weeks ago. I was slightly surprised that she was cooking—she didn’t seem the type. I definitely was surprised that despite whatever she’d heard about me on the news, she still came over to help, or even wanted to associate with me at all!

“Snap to it, Alexis!” Crystal said. “Recovery from brainwashing means I cook you food, it doesn’t mean I set the table.”

“S-sorry, Crystal.” I hurried to prepare the breakfast nook and pour the coffee. Crystal brought over the frying pan and plated the frittata. I forced myself to take a bite. My mouth was awash in sensation. “My god, Crystal. This is the best thing I’ve tasted in months!”

“Don’t act surprised that I know my way around the kitchen.”

“It’s not that. I just realized that I’ve barely been tasting my food for months. Whatever else that Pearl Girl necklace was doing to me, it must have been focusing so much of my attention on sexual pleasures that my other senses were dulled. It’s like every single experience of the past few months was twisted by those glimmering, white pearls.”

Once I started talking, I couldn’t seem to stop. As we finished the frittata and sipped the coffee, I told Crystal nearly everything about my life as a Pearl Girl. From the way I was first tricked into donning the pearls, to my earliest services to pearl-level members, to the way I used Grant Kerry’s feelings against him, my arrangements with Dean Dickinson and the other trustees, and how I’d nearly brainwashed my lover Yvonne into sexual slavery. I even confessed that I’d only started a relationship with Crystal because I had mistakenly believed she was a pearl-level member (she got a hearty laugh out of that). The only things I held back were my secret identity as a superheroine (for obvious reasons), any mention of Lyta Leasch (I’m not sure why), and how much my desire to kiss Treasure Tartarus had shaped all of it (I was still ashamed of how much I still burned for the touch of her lips).

The afternoon shadows had grown long by the time I finished my tale. Crystal’s attention never wavered. She had never struck me as the warm and understanding type, but her presence made me feel seen in a way I couldn’t quite explain. Losing the pearls hadn’t just changed me, its effects were even rippling through those around me, even through someone as strong and unyielding as Crystal Creese.

When I couldn’t say another thing about the last few months, I looked to Crystal—Crystal who had every reason to leave me a distant memory, but was still sitting across the table from me. “So, what do you think?”

“I’ve got a hell of a vocabulary, Alexis, but I can’t find the words to describe how wretched your ordeal was. That’s one of the reasons I’m here.”

“What do you mean, Crystal?”

“I mean that I’m breaking my own rules. I have clients who are just clients. I have clients that become friends. I have clients, like you, who sub for me. Never the twain shall meet. While I might be friendly with my subs, and my friends might think I’m a bitch sometimes, it doesn’t change the fact that my subs are never my friends. But when I heard what happened to you, I realized that today of all days, you needed a friend.”

“Thank you, Crystal. It means more than you know. I don’t know how I’m going to get past this.”

She leaned forward. “You’re going to get past it by putting it in the past, Alexis. You’re going look at what this experience has given you that you can use, and fucking use it. Forget the rest.”

“What did being a Pearl Girl give me that I can use?”

“Me, for one thing.” I let out a small laugh, but Crystal cut me off. “Seriously, those little pearls thrust you into all sorts of situations you never would have tried on your own. Some of them you hated, sure. But some of them you didn’t. Be honest with yourself. Some of the things the pearls made you do were some of the most intense experiences of your life. You know who you are so much better than you did before the pearls, Alexis. Build on that and move forward.”

“It’s not that simple, Crystal.”

“Make it that simple. You’re free of the pearls, so act like it. Choose for yourself what you want to do, and do it. Decide who you want to be, and be it. Become that version of Alexis, right now. Don’t worry about the repercussions. Let the past die. Let tomorrow take care of itself.” Her eyes flashed with that intense passion for life I had seen so often in the bedroom.

“You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s as easy as dressing for the life you want to live, Alexis. In fact, you should go get dressed right now. I’ve filled your closet with beautiful clothes. I can’t wait to see what you choose—what version of Alexis I get to meet. Go in there and put on the first outfit of the rest of your life.”

I opened my mouth to answer but realized she was right—about getting dressed, at least. Crystal looked amazing and I was wearing nothing but a silk robe, my knees pulled up to my chest with my bare feet resting on the seat of the chair. With a little nod, I rose and padded down the hall to my bedroom.

My closet has been completely reorganized. There were stylish but serious suits for academic wear; slinky dresses to go clubbing; a leather catsuit (obviously for the bedroom but that wouldn’t look out of place fighting crime); and lingerie that was more ribbon than silk. Which outfit was right for the first day of my post-Pearl Girl life? Which version of Alexis Ames would I be? The professor for my students? The heroine for the city? The loving domme and mentor for Yvonne?

What could I be for Crystal? Sub? Lover?

Friend?

Today was nice. I’d never had many friends. But it would take more than a stylish sweater to prepare me for Crystal’s “friend” category. Is that even what I wanted? Her rule was that friends were never lovers. Could I bear to never have sex with her again? To never see that hunger flash in her eyes as she gazed over my body?

I studied the gorgeous clothes for a long time, trapped in indecision. Then, a single question bubbled up in my mind:

Why do I need to choose? If Crystal can keep her subs separate from her friends, why can’t I have an outfit for every mood? A persona for every relationship? Of course I could. I already had one secret identity as a superheroine; what did a few more matter?

But who would I be with Crystal?

Time for the first decision of the rest of my life. “Crystal? Could you come here?”

The heels of her boots click-clacked their way down the hall. “Have you made your decision, Alexis?”

“Yes ...” I turned to face her, my head hung low. “... and no. I’ve decided not to decide. You have far better taste than I do. You selected all these beautiful clothes. How do you want to see me tonight ...” I drew circles in the carpet with my big toe. It was now or never. “... Mistress Crystal?”

Crystal gasped. “I was hoping you’d know a good thing when you had it, Alexis.” She sauntered over to face me. I could see how much she wanted me just by the way she rolled her hips with each step. “This is a lovely robe, but it’s last year’s fashion. Take it off.”

“Yes, Mistress.” I unknotted the belt and let the robe hang open a moment. I loved the smile that played across her face as Crystal’s eyes drank in the strip of flesh peeking between the lapels. Inch by inch, I shrugged the silk off my shoulders until it slid down my back with a whisper.

Crystal let out a soft moan. “You’re like a work of art, Alexis. A work of art I love to kiss.”

“Yes, Mistress.” I leaned over, my lips parted—even barefoot, I was a bit taller than Crystal in boots. Her lips were just as warm as I remembered.

Her hand made its way up my neck. Grabbing a fistful of my long hair, Crystal pulled me deeper into the kiss. Her other hand glided across my breasts, teasing my sensitive nipples to stiff peaks. She took her time, coaxing the passion from my body. I was moaning in her mouth by the time her hands trailed lower, claiming every inch of me along the way.

Pushing me back against the floor-to-ceiling windows, Crystal broke the kiss. Her brilliant eyes flashed, pinning me to the glass like a butterfly under her passionate inspection. Her fingers explored the folds of my sex, playing my body like a virtuoso. A high-pitch whimper escaped my throat.

“There you are, Alexis. I see you. Cum for me.”

I came, shamelessly riding her hand. Like an all-seeing goddess, Mistress Crystal bore witness to my passion.

When my legs grew too rubbery to support me, Crystal guided me to my knees. I shuddered against her thighs as she stroked my hair and told me what a good girl I was.

After months of being forced to give myself to anyone who wanted me, my first choice as a free woman was to give myself to one woman in particular. Before the pearls, I would have sworn I didn’t have a submissive bone in my body. But as Mistress Crystal petted my hair and whispered her praise, I couldn’t deny there was only place I wanted to be:

On my knees before her.

--The End (for now)

--It’s been quite a ride since the first chapter of “Pearl Girls” in July 2021. I hope you all have enjoyed reading it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it!

---

Like what you read? Will you buy me a coffee and request something rich to sink my teeth into? Or peek into the depths of my longer fiction?

#skarletteone #mind control #flash fiction #superhero

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