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secretmellowblog · 6 months

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Les Mis Hidden Name Meanings: “Fantine” (posting here because it got popular on TikTok)

Every character in Les Mis has a name with a deeper symbolic meaning— here’s a video I made for the official @barricadescon TikTok about the meaning behind “Fantine!”

Transcript and Digressions I left out of the video, under the cut:

Every charcater’s name in Les Mis is either a pun, a reference to a historical/mythological figure, or had some deep symbolic meaning — and sometimes it’s all of them at on.

The name “Fantine” comes from the french word “enfantine” or “childike, infant-like.” Her name basically means “Baby.” And obviously this speaks to her innocence and niavetee. But also “baby” is kind of,.,, well it sounds more like an informal term of endearment than an actual legal name?

And that’s because– Plot twist– Fantine isn’t her legal name! What is her legal name? She doesn’t have one.

And the reason she doesn’t have one is directly tied to political turmoil of the era she was born into.

Fantine grew up an orphan living on the streets, without a family without parents. Hugo tells us the origin of her name:

“she bore on her brow the sign of the anonymous and the unknown. (...)She was called Fantine. Why Fantine? She had never borne any other name. At the epoch of her birth the Directory still existed. She had no family name; she had no family; no baptismal name; the Church no longer existed. She bore the name which pleased the first random passer-by, who had encountered her, when a very small child, running bare-legged in the street. She received the name as she received the water from the clouds upon her brow when it rained.”

This moment is adapted beautifully in the Manga adaptation by Takahiro Arai, which I recommend to anyone who loves Les mis, manga, or any combination of those things.

But now let’s talk about the Directory.

To wildly oversimplifly a lot of complex history: Before the French Revolution, the Catholic Church’s records of baptismal ceremonies were often used as a registry of people’s legal names. During the French Revolution, the Revolutionary government– including the Directory– put in place a series of policies we now call “dechristianization,” where they attempted to dismantle the power of Catholic church.

Fantine was born during the age of these dechristianization policies. So she was never baptised, her baptismal name was never recorded, so she has no recorded legal or family name. She’s slipped through the cracks of the legal system, and ended up completely anonymous.

It sets Fantine up as this anonymous child of the Revolution– a stand in for everyone who was left behind when the Revolution was left behind, and kings were restored to the throne.

Fantine’s namelessness is meant to show atomized . How she has NO support system. She has nothing to connect her to other people, nothing to connect her to a support system.

Finally, the way Fantine tends to “slip through the cracks” is something that follows her throughout her life. When she’s fired from her job at a factory, Maroy Madeleine never learns of it– Fantine has this tendency to overlooked and forgotten. She is born anonymous and she dies anonymous. At the end of the story, she is buried in an unmarked grave, with not even the name “Fantine” on her headstone.

It ties into novel’s questions about which people we consider worth remembering, whose lives are worth being records.

And obviously Fantine is not the only character in Les Mis whose name has a deeper symbolic meaning. If you have any other Les Mis character names you’d like to explain, leave their name in the comments below.

Thank you for watching!

From the description of the original tiktok, here are some things that were left out of the video for time:

How this all relates to Cosette’s name(s)

Fantine’s nickname “The Blonde,” and how this relates to the way she’s dehumanized by Tholomyes

How the 2018 Bbc series fundamentally misunderstands Fantine’s character, and how one sign of this is that they give her a full legal first and last name

How Fantine’s name shows up/is revealed is significant parts of the story (like when Valjean reveals her signature on a letter to Thenardier, allowing him to take Cosette away)

How Fantine’s inability to write ties into the way it’s difficult for her to record her own story

How some of Valjean’s last words are revealing Fantine’s name to Cosette

Thanks again for reading!

#les mis #les miserables #Fantine #:3 #tiktok #barricades con

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fillinforlater · 1 year

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Hello plz feel free to replace my Eunbi ask with a Rose daddy kink feet smut. She has maybe my fave feet for K idol and I dream of the day I can see this smut published. White polish Rose feet stuff, licking, sucking, tasting, feet fucking ofc, and also getting her pussy pounded cumming inside, but also cumming all over her feet. Plot line you can decide. Thanks QT.

The Interview

Male Reader x Roseanne Park

Length: 2188 words

Tags: feet kink, cheating, daddy kink, an interview gone wild, infidelity, fucking feet, feet licking, footjob, masturbation, creampie, hair pulling, cum drinking, rough sex, folding in half

TW: no editing lol

(A/N: the final request of my first request phase back in early 2022. This one is so old, sorry that you had to wait for so long buddy @sooyadelicacies. I hope you enjoy it lol)

"Are you not going to start the interview? Or are you just going to stare at my feet all day?"

"W-well, it's hard to focus, like, your legs are literally pointing down at them. Your sandals barely hide the rosie!"

Rose rolls her eyes. Slender arms folded like a pretzel, she leans back into the beige cushion of her chair, fifteen-hundred, made for her ass and her ass alone. In annoyance she watches her useless boyfriend put the back of his pen on her calves but even a heavy sigh does not stop his advance. In one continuous trail, he drags the pen to her knee before she stops him with a snarky remark.

"Will you stop it? This is important to me. I need your focus on this." She taps the clipboard in his hand, knowing all too well that his horny ass has not written down a single practice question. "Please practice this with me."

"Nah, I'd much rather practice with my cock in your pussie, Rosie~" he responds, face in a smirk so disgustingly self-satisfied at his pathetic attempt at a joke that no one would argue with him looking downright ugly. Rose turns to the side, arms entangled rightly.

"You don't give a fuck about this, hm?" Rose fires back and grips her boyfriend's wrist. "We can fuck afterwards, but not now. I need your help, so please, at least try to act like a journalist."

There he goes again, blank stare focussed on her feet, her face, turning to a smirk as he finds another horny rebuttal:

"I'm no journalist, I'd much rather be an explorer. I could write books about how smooth your legs feel and how tight your pussy is."

"He is a journalist, he can surely write better than you can ever dream off!"

Rose's shout makes the room go quiet. Not that there were more people anywhere near them—but it feels like every atom has stopped moving and only motionless, perfect silence remains. Her boyfriend sinks backwards into the couch, arms folded the same way she has, an eyebrow raised in more than light concern.

"Oh. It's a guy doing the interview?"

"Are you not going to start the interview? Or are you just going to stare at my feet all day?"

You straighten your neck, terrified at Rose’s carelessly spoken words. It was only for a fleeting moment that your eyes caught her bare feet, the way her slender legs seem to point down at them, it was impossible not to look. You could promise her that this was only because she decided not to wear any shoes, which would have explained it, but nonetheless, you are in deep shit.

“Excuse my behavior, please,” you quickly respond, beads of sweat forming at the side of your temple. “I was just spacing out. I know I shouldn’t, but please, forgive me.”

“You’re taking this too seriously,” Rose laughs and leans back into her chair. “Is this your first interview with…”

“With someone of your caliber—yes, though I have never felt nervousness rise in me to the point such a mistake happens. I really am sorry.” You bow your head to the idol, hoping to overplay any and every thought of her thinking that you’re thinking about her feet in all kinds of ways. “Shall we begin?”

You pull out your recording device, ready to hit play and make this the professional question and answer session it was supposed to be, but Rose interjects. God knows what she is thinking when she leans forward, slender fingers right above your thigh, voice husky and deep.

“You want them on your cock, right?”

“What?!”

“You want my feet around your cock, right

“Daddy?”

“E-excuse me?!”

“I can see you drooling.” Rose captures a string of saliva with her thumb, blowing away your coverage behind decency, and spreading it over your dry lips. “I can see the want in your eyes when you look at my feet. Aren’t they pretty?”

“R-Rose, this is highly—”

"Inappropriate?" she asks, a look of brattiness and disappointment on her stunning features as her pointy, purple painted nail pokes your cheek. “Inappropriate, like staring at a lady’s feet while fantasizing about them?”

“I-I told you I’m sorry. A-and I was not fantasizing in the slightest.”

Your explanation ends with a wince. The pointy ends of Rose’s delicate fingers sink into the skin of your neck. You throw your head back. The pain is sharp, severe enough that you want it to end, but your hands still tightly hold onto the clipboard and recording device.

“Now you’re lying, Daddy.” Rose repeats that damn word without care. “Why can’t you admit that you like my feet?”

“Because…” you stammer, trying to escape the idol by sinking deeper into the couch, but Rose gets closer to you. Her face right above yours, her thighs trapping yours, her other hand is right on your—

“Because then I wouldn’t be able to hold back!”

Rose is gone, the small of her back back in her seat, her entire body far away from yours. Her entire body? No. You could never forget about her bare feet, which she raises from the carpet and places them on your piping hot bulge. In an attempt at torture, she giggles while rubbing you in between her tiny toes, curling them, pressing them against the head of your hidden cock.

“What if I don’t want you to hold back?” she whispers and fiddles with the top of her dress.

“Rose, I—”

"Don’t talk, Daddy, just

“Take me.”

Drop these useless devices, there will be no record of what is about to happen. Rose’s last sentence has ended the interview before it even started. If you can’t talk with your mouth, your hands will have to do the talking. Nothing stops you from popping open your dress pants, yanking them down your legs, your bulge the only real(ly massive) obstacle, and getting a hold of Rose’s feet.

She smiles, pale cheeks blushing at your sight and the feeling of your cock on her soles. You adjust them, making a perfect pocket to thrust into, but before you can jerk your hips upwards, Rose has taken the lead with this absolutely dreamy look in her eyes.

“Oh Daddy~” Rose moans and moves her feet up and down your length. “You are so big and girthy. Let me worship you with my feet, pretty please.”

“I-I… you’re already doing it, Rosie,” you hiss, her soft soles feeling incredible, yet you wish for some kind of lubrication for things to go smoothly.

Rose nods, her breathing getting more rapid by the second: “It’s just that I—I can’t hold back anymore. Daddy, I need to make you cover my feet, Daddy!”

Not holding back, not holding back, not—you grab Rose’s left calf and as she still yelps in shock, you put her toes in your mouth. With all manners thrown out of the window, you slobber all over her pretty little foot, spit covering every inch of her spotless skin. Rose starts to moan, her other foot teasing the sensitive underside of your shaft, forcing droplets of clean precum out of the tip.

Done with one foot, you take the other and everything leads up to this vicious cycle of covering one foot in drool while the other massages your member, smearing it with your saliva. You take a second to open your eyes and look at the idol before you. She has melted into the chair, biting the fingers of one hand while the other is rubbing her clothed crotch.

"Take them off," you mindlessly groan, before your tongue twirls around her toes. "Take off your clothes for Daddy."

Rose is eager to nod at you using the uncalled for, yet not unwanted nickname. Her eagerness does not stop there however, as she is quick to get rid of her tight white outfit, the thin strings fly over her head, her skirt travels down her legs. Before they reach her feet, she starts to jerk you off, keeping you hard and horny the few short seconds without stimulation.

"Daddy, please plaster your thick cum on my feet!" Rose moans as she inserts two fingers into her cunt.

"I won't hold back."

Pull her ankles close to you. Rose almost falls off her chair, eyes in surprise, then bliss. She is piercing herself open, her fragile legs weak, fully under her control. She loses her mind, you help her lose it and you lose your mind, she helps you lose it and you lose your train of thought—fuck it, fuck her feet.

"Daddy, y-you really seem to like me feet~"

"Fuck, they are the softest."

Move your hips back and forth, her ankles forth and back, squeeze them tighter around your cock. Watch your tip poke through it, watch Rose's finger move in and out, watch her tongue fall out of her mouth. It's all getting you closer, your breathing is rapid, Rose's too. Is she also—

"Daddy, I'm so~close~" the idol mewls and you thrust faster.

"Finger yourself stupid!" you command. "Watch me paint your feet, fuck!"

Rose's eyes tremble. She can barely focus on your erupting cock as her own sex explodes in a violent, squirting orgasm that leaves her thighs and chair in a messy, wet puddle. A deep, echoing, dumb sounding scream comes from her wide open mouth. She is the opposite of you, quietly relishing in the bliss of a climax that sends strings of cum all over soles, feet, even up to her legs.

Before the tremble of Rose's legs makes your semen fall off of them onto the carpet, you quickly fold her in half. The surprisingly flexible woman now has her cum-covered feet dangling above her delirious, glowing face.

"Open your mouth, baby girl," you whisper and watch Rose instinctively stick out her tongue. Your cum drips from her thin legs and feet straight on her face. Rose licks off whatever she can get in desperate desire, while you poke her exposed labia with your stiff cock.

"How does it taste?" you jokingly ask, ready to penetrate her pristine pussy.

"Is this really the first question to your interview?"

"There was an interview?"

Oh fuck.

"Oh fuck!" Rose vocalizes your inner thought as her pussy engulfs your entire length. You can feel her sensitive walls wrap around you, cling onto you, like she wants to squeeze more of your initial load out of you. No, you first have to get there, but with this incredible tightness and her insanely lewd expression as she swallows your dripping cum, she will have you cumming in no time.

"F-forget the interview," Rose whines. "I'll send you the answers per, per mail."

"No, we'll do the interview. Now," you growl at her, fingers tightly grabbing her small thighs. "You'll answer truthfully, baby girl."

"Hng, I-I can't think!"

"No need to. Just tell me: who fucks you better?"

"Wha—ah!"

Rose screams, laughs when you tickle her feet by spreading the remnants of your first load over her soles. Through all of it you start to thrust slower but harder, the depths of her cunt spread widely by your tip. You watch Rose throw her head back and decide to ask again.

"Who fucks you better, Rose? Your boyfriend or me?"

"You, oh God, you!"

"And who did you wear this white polish for?"

"Y-you, I'm only fucking you."

You ponder for a second, resting a hand on her throat. Rose suddenly has these puppy eyes that lack lewdness but increase your desire to dump a ridiculously large second load in her tight cunt.

"God, you look so breedable," you groan and lean down to her face, strands of rose-gold hair not hiding but increasing her stunningness. "But remember: I'm the one fucking you."

"Yes, Daddy." Rose seems to brace for a hard final fucking, but you don't want to give it to her. You feel great, fully inside her small pussy, her juices around you, keeping you wet and warm.

"Final question, Mrs. sluttiest idol:

"Where do you want my seed?"

"I need it in my pussy, Daddy~"

"You need it?"

"Of course, Daddy~ Fill me up!"

A loving thumb crazing her cheek, that's your final showing of mercy. Her ponytail in one hand, clit pinch with the other, you start to jackhammer into Rose's pussy with all the power the word 'Daddy' has given you. You won't be able to keep this up for long, but Rose is already a mess, nothing compared to the powerful idol from before.

She wants to be the little messy nothing on the chair, drilled by a big cock, her painted feet high in the air, her pussy convulsing. That's the way she wants to milk you, get your seed, and with a final thrust (and final, very harsh pull on her hair) you start to cum inside her.

"So warm, Daddy, ah!"

Fuck the interview or Fuck: The Interview? you think as you see you either losing your job or having the most incredible career of anyone in this industry.

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kaijuno · 10 months

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In light of Fall Out Boy’s GARBAGE cover of the song. Let’s learn about the original. Notice how they’re actually in chronological order instead of just random references 😒😒😒😒

1949

Harry Truman was inaugurated as U.S. president after being elected in 1948 to his own term; previously he was sworn in following the death of Franklin D. Roosevelt. He authorized the use of atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in Japan during World War II, on August 6 and August 9, 1945, respectively.

Doris Day enters the public spotlight with the films My Dream Is Yours and It’s a Great Feeling as well as popular songs like “It’s Magic”; divorces her second husband.

Red China: The Communist Party of China wins the Chinese Civil War, establishing the People’s Republic of China.

Johnnie Ray signs his first recording contract with Okeh Records, although he would not become popular for another two years.

South Pacific, the prize-winning musical, opens on Broadway on April 7.

Walter Winchell is an aggressive radio and newspaper journalist credited with inventing the gossip column.

Joe DiMaggio and the New York Yankees go to the World Series five times in the 1940s, winning four of them.

1950

Joe McCarthy, the US Senator, gains national attention and begins his anti-communist crusade with his Lincoln Day speech.

Richard Nixon is first elected to the United States Senate.

Studebaker, a popular car company, begins its financial downfall.

Television is becoming widespread throughout Europe and North America.

North Korea and South Korea declare war after Northern forces stream south on June 25.

Marilyn Monroe soars in popularity with five new movies, including The Asphalt Jungle and All About Eve, and attempts suicide after the death of friend Johnny Hyde who asked to marry her several times, but she refused respectfully. Monroe would later (1954) be married for a brief time to Joe DiMaggio (mentioned in the previous verse).

1951

The Rosenbergs, Ethel and Julius, were convicted on March 29 for espionage.

H-Bomb is in the middle of its development as a nuclear weapon, announced in early 1950 and first tested in late 1952.

Sugar Ray Robinson, a champion welterweight boxer.

Panmunjom, the border village in Korea, is the location of truce talks between the parties of the Korean War.

Marlon Brando is nominated for the Academy Award for Best Actor for his role in A Streetcar Named Desire.

The King and I, musical, opens on Broadway on March 29.

The Catcher in the Rye, a controversial novel by J. D. Salinger, is published.

1952

Dwight D. Eisenhower is first elected as U.S. president, winning by a landslide margin of 442 to 89 electoral votes.

The vaccine for polio is privately tested by Jonas Salk.

England’s got a new queen: Queen Elizabeth II succeeds to the throne upon the death of her father, George VI, and is crowned the next year.

Rocky Marciano defeats Jersey Joe Walcott, becoming the world Heavyweight champion.

Liberace has a popular 1950s television show for his musical entertainment.

Santayana goodbye: George Santayana, philosopher, essayist, poet, and novelist, dies on September 26.

1953

Joseph Stalin dies on March 5, yielding his position as leader of the Soviet Union.

Georgy Maksimilianovich Malenkov succeeds Stalin for six months following his death. Malenkov had presided over Stalin’s purges of party “enemies”, but would be spared a similar fate by Nikita Khrushchev mentioned later in verse.

Gamal Abdel Nasser acts as the true power behind the new Egyptian nation as Muhammad Naguib’s minister of the interior.

Sergei Prokofiev, the composer, dies on March 5, the same day as Stalin.

Winthrop Rockefeller and his wife Barbara are involved in a highly publicized divorce, culminating in 1954 with a record-breaking $5.5 million settlement.

Roy Campanella, an African-American baseball catcher for the Brooklyn Dodgers, receives the National League’s Most Valuable Player award for the second time.

Communist bloc is a group of communist nations dominated by the Soviet Union at this time. Probably a reference to the Uprising of 1953 in East Germany.

1954

Roy Cohn resigns as Joseph McCarthy’s chief counsel and enters private practice with the fall of McCarthy. He also worked to prosecute the Rosenbergs, mentioned earlier.

Juan Perón spends his last full year as President of Argentina before a September 1955 coup.

Arturo Toscanini is at the height of his fame as a conductor, performing regularly with the NBC Symphony Orchestra on national radio.

Dacron is an early artificial fiber made from the same plastic as polyester.

Dien Bien Phu falls. A village in North Vietnam falls to Viet Minh forces under Vo Nguyen Giap, leading to the creation of North Vietnam and South Vietnam as separate states.

“Rock Around the Clock” is a hit single released by Bill Haley & His Comets in May, spurring worldwide interest in rock and roll music.

1955

Albert Einstein dies on April 18 at the age of 76.

James Dean achieves success with East of Eden and Rebel Without a Cause, gets nominated for an Academy Award for Best Actor, and dies in a car accident on September 30 at the age of 24.

Brooklyn’s got a winning team: The Brooklyn Dodgers win the World Series for the only time before their move to Los Angeles.

Davy Crockett is a Disney television miniseries about the legendary frontiersman of the same name. The show was a huge hit with young boys and inspired a short-lived “coonskin cap” craze.

Peter Pan is broadcast on TV live and in color from the 1954 version of the stage musical starring Mary Martin on March 7. Disney released an animated version the previous year.

Elvis Presley signs with RCA Records on November 21, beginning his pop career.

Disneyland opens on July 17, 1955 as Walt Disney’s first theme park.

1956

Brigitte Bardot appears in her first mainstream film And God Created Woman and establishes an international reputation as a French “sex kitten”.

Budapest is the capital city of Hungary and site of the 1956 Hungarian Revolution.

Alabama is the site of the Montgomery Bus Boycott which ultimately led to the removal of the last race laws in the USA. Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King, Jr figure prominently.

Nikita Khrushchev makes his famous Secret Speech denouncing Stalin’s “cult of personality” on February 25.

Princess Grace Kelly releases her last film, High Society, and marries Prince Rainier III of Monaco.

Peyton Place, the best-selling novel by Grace Metalious, is published. Though mild compared to today’s prime time, it shocked the reserved values of the 1950s.

Trouble in the Suez: The Suez Crisis boils as Egypt nationalizes the Suez Canal on October 29.

1957

Little Rock, Arkansas is the site of an anti-integration standoff, as Governor Orval Faubus stops the Little Rock Nine from attending Little Rock Central High School and President Dwight D. Eisenhower deploys the 101st Airborne Division to counteract him.

Boris Pasternak, the Russian author, publishes his famous novel Doctor Zhivago.

Mickey Mantle is in the middle of his career as a famous New York Yankees outfielder and American League All-Star for the sixth year in a row.

Jack Kerouac publishes his first novel in seven years, On the Road.

Sputnik becomes the first artificial satellite, launched by the Soviet Union on October 4, marking the start of the space race.

Chou En-Lai, Premier of the People’s Republic of China, survives an assassination attempt on the charter airliner Kashmir Princess.

Bridge on the River Kwai is released as a film adaptation of the 1954 novel and receives seven Academy Awards, including Best Picture.

1958

Lebanon is engulfed in a political and religious crisis that eventually involves U.S. intervention.

Charles de Gaulle is elected first president of the French Fifth Republic following the Algerian Crisis.

California baseball begins as the Brooklyn Dodgers and New York Giants move to California and become the Los Angeles Dodgers and San Francisco Giants. They are the first major league teams west of Kansas City.

Charles Starkweather Homicide captures the attention of Americans, in which he kills eleven people between January 25 and 29 before being caught in a massive manhunt in Douglas, Wyoming.

Children of Thalidomide: Mothers taking the drug Thalidomide had children born with congenital birth defects caused by the sleeping aid and antiemetic, which was also used at times to treat morning sickness.

1959

Buddy Holly dies in a plane crash on February 3 with Ritchie Valens and The Big Bopper, in a day that had a devastating impact on the country and youth culture. Joel prefaces the lyric with a Holly signature vocal hiccup: “Uh-huh, uh-huh.”

Ben-Hur, a film based around the New Testament starring Charlton Heston, wins eleven Academy Awards, including Best Picture.

Space Monkey: Able and Miss Baker return to Earth from space aboard the flight Jupiter AM-18.

The Mafia are the center of attention for the FBI and public attention builds to this organized crime society with a historically Sicilian-American origin.

Hula hoops reach 100 million in sales as the latest toy fad.

Fidel Castro comes to power after a revolution in Cuba and visits the United States later that year on an unofficial twelve-day tour.

Edsel is a no-go: Production of this car marque ends after only three years due to poor sales.

1960

U-2: An American U-2 spy plane piloted by Francis Gary Powers was shot down over the Soviet Union, causing the U-2 Crisis of 1960.

Syngman Rhee was rescued by the CIA after being forced to resign as leader of South Korea for allegedly fixing an election and embezzling more than US $20 million.

Payola, illegal payments for radio broadcasting of songs, was publicized due to Dick Clark’s testimony before Congress and Alan Freed’s public disgrace.

John F. Kennedy beats Richard Nixon in the November 8 general election.

Chubby Checker popularizes the dance The Twist with his cover of the song of the same name.

Psycho: An Alfred Hitchcock thriller, based on a pulp novel by Robert Bloch and adapted by Joseph Stefano, which becomes a landmark in graphic violence and cinema sensationalism. The screeching violins heard briefly in the background of the song are a trademark of the film’s soundtrack.

Belgians in the Congo: The Republic of the Congo (Leopoldville) was declared independent of Belgium on June 30, with Joseph Kasavubu as President and Patrice Lumumba as Prime Minister.

1961

Ernest Hemingway commits suicide on July 2 after a long battle with depression.

Adolf Eichmann, a “most wanted” Nazi war criminal, is traced to Argentina and captured by Mossad agents. He is covertly taken to Israel where he is put on trial for crimes against humanityin Germany during World War II, convicted, and hanged.

Stranger in a Strange Land, written by Robert A. Heinlein, is a breakthrough best-seller with themes of sexual freedom and liberation.

Bob Dylan is signed to Columbia Records after a New York Times review by critic Robert Shelton.

Berlin is separated into West Berlin and East Berlin, and from the rest of East Germany, when the Berlin Wall is erected on August 13 to prevent citizens escaping to the West.

The Bay of Pigs Invasion fails, an attempt by United States-trained Cuban exiles to invade Cuba and overthrow Fidel Castro.

1962

Lawrence of Arabia: The Academy Award-winning film based on the life of T. E. Lawrence starring Peter O’Toole premieres in America on December 16.

British Beatlemania: The Beatles, a British rock group, gain Ringo Starr as drummer and Brian Epstein as manager, and join the EMI’s Parlophone label. They soon become the world’s most famous rock band, with the word “Beatlemania” adopted by the press for their fans’ unprecedented enthusiasm. It also began the British Invasion in the United States.

Ole’ Miss: James Meredith integrates the University of Mississippi

John Glenn: Flew the first American manned orbital mission termed “Friendship 7” on February 20.

Liston beats Patterson: Sonny Liston and Floyd Patterson fight for the world heavyweight championship on September 25, ending in a first-round knockout. This match marked the first time Patterson had ever been knocked out and one of only eight losses in his 20-year professional career.

1963

Pope Paul VI: Cardinal Giovanni Montini is elected to the papacy and takes the papal name of Paul VI.

Malcolm X makes his infamous statement “The chickens have come home to roost” about the Kennedy assassination, thus causing the Nation of Islam to censor him.

British politician sex: The British Secretary of State for War, John Profumo, has a relationship with a showgirl, and then lies when questioned about it before the House of Commons. When the truth came out, it led to his own resignation and undermined the credibility of the Prime Minister.

JFK blown away: President John F. Kennedy is assassinated on November 22 while riding in an open convertible through Dallas.

1965

Birth control: In the early 1960s, oral contraceptives, popularly known as “the pill”, first go on the market and are extremely popular. Griswold v. Connecticut in 1965 challenged a Connecticut law prohibiting contraceptives. In 1968, Pope Paul VI released a papal encyclical entitled Humanae Vitae which declared artificial birth control a sin.

Ho Chi Minh: A Vietnamese communist, who served as President of Vietnam from 1954–1969. March 2 Operation Rolling Thunder begins bombing of the Ho Chi Minh Trail supply line from North Vietnam to the Vietcong rebels in the south. On March 8, the first U.S. combat troops, 3,500 marines, land in South Vietnam.

1968

Richard Nixon back again: Former Vice President Nixon is elected President in 1968.

1969

Moonshot: Apollo 11, the first manned lunar landing, successfully lands on the moon.

Woodstock: Famous rock and roll festival of 1969 that came to be the epitome of the counterculture movement.

1974–75

Watergate: Political scandal that began when the Democratic National Committee’s headquarters at the Watergate office complex in Washington, DC was broken into. After the break-in, word began to spread that President Richard Nixon (a Republican) may have known about the break-in, and tried to cover it up. The scandal would ultimately result in the resignation of President Nixon, and to date, this remains the only time that anyone has ever resigned the United States Presidency.

Punk rock: The Ramones form, with the Sex Pistols following in 1975, bringing in the punk era.

1976–77

(An item from 1977 comes before three items from 1976 to make the song scan.)

Menachem Begin becomes Prime Minister of Israel in 1977 and negotiates the Camp David Accords with Egypt’s president in 1978.

Ronald Reagan was elected President of the United States in 1980, but he first attempted to run for the position in 1976.

Palestine: a United Nations resolution that calls for an independent Palestinian state and to end the Israeli occupation.

Terror on the airline: Numerous aircraft hijackings take place, specifically, the Palestinian hijack of Air France Flight 139 and the subsequent Operation Entebbe in Uganda.

1979

Ayatollah’s in Iran: During the Iranian Revolution of 1979, the West-backed and secular Shah is overthrown as the Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini gains power after years in exile and forces Islamic law.

Russians in Afghanistan: Following their move into Afghanistan, Soviet forces fight a ten-year war, from 1979 to 1989.

1983

Wheel of Fortune: A hit television game show which has been TV’s highest-rated syndicated program since 1983.

Sally Ride: In 1983 she becomes the first American woman in space. Ride’s quip from space “Better than an E-ticket”, harkens back to the opening of Disneyland mentioned earlier, with the E-ticket purchase needed for the best rides.

Heavy metal suicide: In the 1980s Ozzy Osbourne and the bands Judas Priest and Metallica were brought to court by parents who accused the musicians of hiding subliminal pro-suicide messages in their music.

Foreign debts: Persistent U.S. trade deficits

Homeless vets: Veterans of the Vietnam War, including many disabled ex-military, are reported to be left homeless and impoverished.

AIDS: A collection of symptoms and infections in humans resulting from the specific damage to the immune system caused by infection with the human immunodeficiency virus (HIV). It is first detected and recognized in the 1980s, and was on its way to becoming a pandemic.

Crack cocaine use surged in the mid-to-late 1980s.

1984

Bernie Goetz: On December 22, Goetz shot four young men who he said were threatening him on a New York City subway. Goetz was charged with attempted murder but was acquitted of the charges, though convicted of carrying an unlicensed gun.

1988

Hypodermics on the shore: Medical waste was found washed up on beaches in New Jersey after being illegally dumped at sea. Before this event, waste dumped in the oceans was an “out of sight, out of mind” affair. This has been cited as one of the crucial turning points in popular opinion on environmentalism.

1989

China’s under martial law: On May 20, China declares martial law, enabling them to use force of arms against protesting students to end the Tiananmen Square protests.

Rock-and-roller cola wars: Soft drink giants Coke and Pepsi each run marketing campaigns using rock & roll and popular music stars to reach the teenage and young adult demographic.

Short summaries of all 119 references mentioned in the song, you’re welcome.

#look fall out boy is one of my fave bands but this is inexcusable #fall out boy #Billy Joel #music #Spotify

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infraredmag · 2 years

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ELEINE 'Acoustic In Hell'

@EleineOfficial new album 'Acoustic In Hell' out on 10/14 via @atomicfirerec Preview it now at: www.InfraredMAG.com #NewMusic #NewMusicFriday #NewMusicAlert #Eleine #AcousticInHell #AtomicFireRecords

ELEINE Acoustic In Hell October 14, 2022 Atomic Fire Records (more…)

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#Acoustic In Hell #Atomic Fire Records #Eleine

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kenpiercemedia · 2 years

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Helloween Announces North American Tour with Hammerfall Supporting

The Press Release: Legendary German heavy metal icons HELLOWEEN will return to the US and Canada this Spring as part of their ongoing United Forces world tour alongside supporting special guests, HammerFall. The trek will commence on May 13th in Dallas, Texas and wind its way through a total of thirteen cities, the journey drawing to a close on June 3rd in San Francisco, California. Fans can…

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#andy deris #announcements #atomic fire records #concert tours #daniel loble #david wallin #fredrik larsson #hammerfall #helloween #joacim cans #kai hansen #markus grosskopf #michael kiske #michael weikath #oscar dronjak #pontus norgren #sascha gerstner #tour announcements #tour dates

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lucidfallacy · 16 days

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* König x Reader 18+ *

It's about twenty meters high. I survey the dauntingly short distance between me and a guaranteed spot as a sniper on the esteemed firing-squad. One last wall of rock and destiny to earn the privilege of fighting alongside the Colonel's 4 man fireteam. Truth be known I'm really just vying to be near the soft spoken Austrian death-bringer, König. That fateful name, meaning king in German and spawning fear among the toughest of men across the globe. And maybe it's sad, but I would gladly bow to him. After the things I've witnessed him do... His interrogations alone feel like a damned strip tease. Even though I still don't know what lies under that ragged executioners hood cloaking his head and maybe I never will. But I do know that his eyes are bluer than a vile of Kortac's sparkling lethal injection. Which I've seen him administer on quite a few occasions. I also know he is utmost respectful, looking and speaking to me as if we are equals. My attraction to him is quite the opposite of atomic and the repercussions if I followed through with my desires are nuclear. I'm just hoping that serving him will be enough to quench this insatiable thirst I have for his approval.

The trials have been exceedingly treacherous and I'd be lying if I said I didn't love it. I've fought for everything I own. My rank, my reputation. Today's challenges must have been crafted in soldier heaven just for me. We started off early as sin this morning with bare knuckled knock out boxing. Not usually my first choice for breakfast, but it was entertaining at least. By no means am I small and still they underestimated me. Should've guessed that I wouldn't go down easy just from how fucked my body looks. Did they get a good look at all my bruises? The scars? I spent my teenage years fighting for my life as I wandered the streets of Chicago. It's a part of me I've gladly left behind, ever since I joined the military on my eighteenth birthday. I had not a single doubt in my mind about it, but that was years ago and I was young. I mean, who was around to tell me no? The routine here was good for me in the end. But I'm no less grateful for the lessons I learned in that chapter of my story. I was stuck believing that I could only ever be worth the life I was born into. That's until I found my purpose.

They all see me as "just another bitch in the way." Well, that's how my 'comrades' put it. That's why it was almost too easy, contorting Zero into that arm bar earlier. He wanted this position so very badly too, but obviously not enough for a broken arm. I'm still reveling in the way his shoulder popped right before he tapped out. Wish I could've recorded it for the next time he pisses me off. But I will admit, he had me sweating there for a second. In the end, his teeth sunk deep into my thigh as my legs wrapped around his hopeless neck. I wrenched his arm back into a devastating hold, pulling harder as we fought an unspoken battle of "No, you let go first." König stood just outside the cage with his men in the shadows, studying us. Arms folded across his imposing 6'10 stature and unmoving with every crushing blow to we laid to each other. The abandoned building was filled with our groans and grunts as we fought for dominance. The spotlight almost blinding while we rolled around in each other's sweat on the makeshift ring's floor. But as my blood pooled around Zero's mouth he licked his lips and I cried out in pain. I'm almost certain I saw the Austrian death himself fucking twitch. Soon I'll know why.

After winning, I was bagged blind and thrown into the barbed wire mud pits. There was only five of us left. It would've been courteous to warn us about those friendly crocs who damn near took one of my shoes in the process. Anyway, 3 of us made it through without any major issues. Next was a 10 mile run through the god damned jungle, weighed down by 50 something pounds of equipment and muddied fatigues. It pushed me to my limits, knowing he was watching from afar. Letting him know the lengths I'd go just to please him. My boots are still lined with the uncomfortable grittiness of the dried dirt and as night falls. The air has dropped to a bone chilling temperature. This something I'm used to. Being disgusting, cold, hungry even. During this entire trial, my colleagues were not ones to spare any fairness or sympathy for me. I've been pushed, trampled, spit on. And I expected it. If anything it's fucking welcomed.

I leap onto the first notch of the rocky wall, my nimble calloused hands making it easier than expected. Droplets of rain begin crying from the forming dark clouds and my opponents boots trample through the mud behind me, so I quicken my pace. Something slides out from the corner of my vision as I ascend, sounding like the grind of two cinderblocks. Soldiers are meant to be adaptable, but a decaying rock wall was not something I had expected. My hand slips on the next peg as it falls below. I twist my torso, catching my weight on a smaller peg to the right of me with my opposite hand. Too fucking close. I would say I'm about halfway up at this point and I peer down to my opponents below. The loose rock that was determined to make me eat shit is now laying beside an unconscious Velilkan in the mud puddles below. Unfortunate really. To get this far, just to be knocked out by a pebble. Operator Nikto and agent O'Connor are hot on my ass, kicking and pulling at each other like two bickering children. I giggle at the sight. O'Connor falters a bit, brandishing a nasty bite on his bicep from one of our reptilian companions earlier. It's commendable that he actually made it through the whole lockjaw and death roll routine.

But here I am only meters away from the golden bell at the top. The resounding ring will be a testament of my strength and resilience. I begin daydreaming about my future on the team. How I will be their right hand and all seeing eye for impending danger. How I will finally feel like I am enough and maybe even- My fingertips can almost graze the knotted white end of the bell's rope, before I know it. I can't even hold back my elation as it floods over my expression. This is the first time I've truly smiled in what feels like ages. A single bright crack of lightening tears through the night sky. The rain continues to beat down violently on my face as if its a ritualistic cleansing to start anew.

"Like the rest," the thickly accented Russian agent bellows to me through the raging storm. The former FSB operative digs his gloved fingers into the lip of my boot. "Just a corpse."

Nikto yanks me downwards with all his might, almost taking himself out in the process as he hangs one armed off a peg. The rope slips through my needy fingers and fear strikes through me, mocking the way lightening rips into the clouds. My screams are drowned out as I claw the air, grasping for anything to break my fall. My stomach is in ruin, tossed and turned all sorts of ways in my descent. The fall may be 20 meters, but it's scarier to think of as 65 feet. A plummet that most certainly could kill me, or leave me paralyzed nonetheless. I ease my panic and straighten my body, colliding with an unknowing O'Connor who has valiantly climbed about halfway up. My arm latches around his throat in a sort of goofy headlock and just before I gather my bearings, his pegs give way to our combined weight. We wrestle in each others arms through the air only 30 feet to go now, a short-lived battle deciding who will break the other's fall. Less than a second later, the wind is knocked from my lungs as the bell tolls and I collapse in a plank-like position over the two soldiers bodies beneath me. There's no room for me to think about the ache of my potentially broken ribs, or how my wrist twisted the wrong way underneath me upon landing. All I can feel is the pounding high of adrenaline laced with a fervent hatred. And just like that, the trials are complete. And god am I a sore fucking loser.

Embarrassing is the first word that crosses my mind, thinking about how I limped back to base on shaky legs like a newborn fawn. My entire being feels sprained. Fractured even, by one simple mistake. My skull throbs as I lift my forehead from the tiled shower wall. I'm fighting a bitchin' headache which is only amplified by the bathroom's blue fluorescent lighting overhead. It's bright enough to annoy even a blind man. The scalding hot water steams inside of the barbed wire gashes along my spine so I gnash my teeth, attempting to stifle a cry. Soldiers of Kortac aren't allowed to cry, or feel anything really. It's one of the 3 big rules around here. And though I'm alone, having my own special pity party, I'd rather not test the waters. Every soldier on base is celebrating that son of a bitch at the mess hall right now. Well, that's if they're not shacked up in the infirmary. I can hear the echoes of their victorious chants in all sorts of foreign languages from across the barracks. I can imagine Nikto now as he begins a speech, beer in hand at the middle metal lunch table. It should be me up there. Is he happy for Nikto? König watched on as each of us trained for this position over the past year. He probably had one of us in mind, but the trials are only fair. And I know he's passionate about this. Would've been his specialty if he wasn't so... vertically challenged? No, he's just freaking massive.

Now, would I have received the same commendable treatment from my peers? Probably not. But still, I refuse to stuff my face in front of that cheating bastard, let alone congratulate him. All he deserves is the crusted crocodile shit on the bottom of my combat boots, as far as I'm concerned. I pump some of the citrus orange colored soap from the shower wall dispenser and lather it through my hair. I work around the forming goose egg on my crown with a wince.

"Stupid. So fucking stupid" I whisper to myself as I yank my hair in frustration. A sob begins to creep up my throat.

It's an unfamiliar sensation I can't ignore, stinging across my cheeks and nose bridge. The oncoming snot hinders my breathing. My chest and hands tremble as I try every coping skill in the book to sooth my anxiety. Last time I had a panic attack was probably high school... Grabbing a rag from the shower's hook, I decide to focus on getting myself clean rather than irrational emotions. I whimper at the mix of soap and friction against my lacerations. Not a single square inch of skin was sparred by the elements. I scrub into my arms, but no matter how long or hard I chip away at the dirty feeling across my body. It seems I will never get clean.

"Useless. Just another corpse," I cry to myself, replaying Nikto's words in my head.

My skin becomes reddened and raw from my self inflicted abusive cleansing. My next victim is my chest as venomous tears seem to poison my bloodstream. I'm overcome with a wracking sob that reverberates through the bathroom. The slow tread of heavy boots make their way to my open cubicle in the back corner, but I'm too occupied in my own head to notice. I only stop scrubbing myself as a shadow looms over me, blocking all recesses of light and swirling thoughts in my mind. The rag slips from my hand, hitting the cement floor with a wet plop as I slowly turn to meet the warmth of steel blue eyes. I suck in another shaky breath, wiping the snot from my face as I stand at attention. I'm barren to him, covering my breast with one arm to try and remedy my naked state.

"Colonel, sir," I sputter out wide eyed.

The Colonel has now seen me cry, no König has. And I will harbor this shame for the next century.

"What troubles you, soldier?" König asks, voice thickly accented and rigid with concern.

He grabs the arm covering my bare chest, flipping my wrist to examine my forearms. His gloved thumb grazes my raw sensitive flesh I scrubbed away just moments ago. The shower runs cold, but my body has heated up beyond a boiling temperature. He cocks his head, and I can tell his expression furrows beneath the material of his hood.

"I know what it's like, you know," he whispers. "To be seen as small. To never be enough." König drops my arm, his knuckle reaching up to graze against my streaming faucet of tears. "If you take a foolish man's words to heart, it'll end up consuming you little Maus."

His touch is kind and unexpectedly welcoming. I wanted him to make an example of me, scold me for feeling anything other than cold indifference. But this? It's validating. My lip quivers, understanding his thoughtful words.

"I wanted it so bad, sir. I- wanted you," the words spill out of me before I can think.

I might as well have driven a stake through my own heart, realizing what I've done. Covering my truthful lips, I try rushing past him. But this human blockade of a man traps me in and I bounce off of his solid chest, like he's sandwiching me between self-doubt and excitement. And I think I might be sick in the head from how slick my pussy is in arousal. It's just the close proximity, I tell myself.

"Don't hide away from me, Sonnenschein," he groans, fingers traveling from my navel and between my breasts to my neck.

His thumb presses on the underside of my jaw as he grips my throat. He backs me into the wall, the frigid water baptizing us with an intoxicating sensation. His tan trousers part my thighs and the material makes me shiver with terribly filthy expectant thoughts.

"You've wanted me, the same way I've needed you Y/N?" he says shakily, those steel blue eyes never leaving mine.

He's drinking in my thoughts and expressions, not just my body.

"Yes-" I admit, trying to comprehend his feelings.

He exhales a quick excited breath and I can imagine the way his nostrils flare. König leans in, licking my tears away through the hood's material. His other hand snakes in between my folds, pinching and rolling my swollen clit. I gasp, my hips bucking as he grinds into me. Maybe I'm drunk off of the hypothermia, but I need for him to fuck the anxiety out of my pitiful head. His eyes dip down, urging me to touch him too. As I reach up and trace the outline of his bulge, I realize how hopeless my situation really is.

"Shit König, that's-" I moan.

"Help me out here, Y/N" he hums against the crook of my neck, rubbing small circles around me.

My hands are unsteady as I work towards freeing him from the confines of his trousers. I get quickly frustrated in anticipation, unable to undo this complicated belt fucking fast enough. My fingers dip into the waistband of his underwear and I jerk downwards. König's reddened cock slaps against my stomach at full attention, already leaking from its slit. My thumb runs over the sizeable head, smearing around his precum as I feel the throb of his racing heartbeat. He twitches, just as he did during my match with Zero. In a fell eager swoop, he reaches under my bare ass and thighs, hoisting me up to his level as if I weigh nothing. My back arches against the hard coldness of the tiles. His elbows fit like a puzzle piece underneath the crook of my knees as he lines himself up with my entrance.

"How patient have you been little Maus? How long have you waited for me?" König growls, reveling at the sight of me bent to his will.

It was the first of August, 2022. I was just a trainee then, five painstakingly long years ago. There I was, uselessly watching on as König, the insertion specialist, snuffed out twelve Al-Qatala members single-handedly. I held my breath with each shot he took, eyes glued to the drone cameras from a sentinel truck parked on the outside of town. This man saved fifteen women that day. And promised myself I would be just like him.

He teasingly smears my wetness up and down my lips with the head of his cock awaiting my answer. Up and-

"Since Berlin," I finally confess.

"Fuck-" he whines, forcing himself inside to the hilt against my pussy.

He's like a human fucking battering ram. And I'll let him use me. Break me down. He's pounding and pounding, his ragged moans altering into gravely cries. We are both balls of convoluted nerves, forced to mask ourselves and freed by each other's embrace. And once again I'm crying. Not from anger or my failures. It's because we share the same burdens and have finally found solace, in a raw emotional fuck.

My fingers dance around my clit, finding rhythm in his thrusts. His dick fills me completely, hitting every spot I never knew existed. I'm gasping for air in between sobs and the freezing shower's torrential downpour invading my lungs. Our foreheads press together as we warm our faces with moaning breaths. His musk still smells of a busy day's worth of sweat and mahogany, a delectable combination that'll haunt me. A reminder of the man who has now completely ruined my expectations for sex. But maybe this isn't it for us.

"Can I cum little Maus? Please god-" he whimpers, death gripping my thighs with no consideration for my sensitive bite mark.

I hiss at the pain, but it sends me over the edge. My cunt tightens in spasms around his cock.

"I'm- yes oh my god König," I cry out as he pins me up higher against the tile and unravels into me.

White stars flit across my vision and I hear ringing as if I'm in earshot of an oncoming train. I'm completely spent, slumping over onto his stiff body as my arms loosely grasp around the girth of his neck. I feel empty when he pulls out of me, but he stuffs his still hard member back into those tight khaki slacks. An ungodly amount of semen and my fluids to drip to the floor and wash away. But the water begins to run red. I tip my head back knocking against the shower wall, but the pain is dulled as my vision dilutes. Those steel blue eyes are struck with horror, staring at his bloodied gloved hands. I smile tiredly.

"Mein Liebling, you're bleeding. I'm so- shit, shit," his cadence reminding me of my own self deprecation.

König cradles me as if I'm some injured puppy he has rescued off the side of the road, delicately wrapping me up in my white towel from the railing.

"I can fix you. I'll fix all of this." he sniffles out.

I groan, cold, wet, and sore in his loving embrace. I'm a soldier and yet he's allowing my vulnerability just as he is allowing me to witness his. The ambiance shifts as his heavy boots pick up their pace in the hallway. I can somewhat recognize each corner we turn and the different floors he treads upon. We aren't going to the infirmary? König kicks open a creaky door with a thud, striding in as he caresses my head. In my weakened state I'm none the wiser, but I relax when he lays me down upon the pillowy grace of a mattress. I hear the unfamiliar grumble of a man from across the hazy room.

"I didn't know you had it in you, ya fuckin' animal," the blurry man says blowing out a puff of fragrant cigar smoke and giving König a firm slap on his back. I catch undertones of a British accent in his inflections. I'm freezing but a light sweat clings to my forehead, so Konig pushes my drenched messy hair out of my face with a sigh. I begin fading in and out with every other word of their conversation.

"Quit your bitchin'. I'll take good care of her. Now hurry up and go get rid of that sorry excuse for a sniper before he gets too comfortable," the mysterious man orders.

I blink, lightheaded and attempting to focus as the man turns my chin towards the dim light. He's illuminated enough for me to see his tight black mask concealing the entirety of his head. Half of a skulled face mask is fixtured at the top. His dark eyes hold a sinister mischievousness, but his touch is gentle as he begins dressing my wounds.

"I'll be honest with you girl. We already had our pick of the litter for the team," he chuckles, tearing away at the tied gauze on my arm with his teeth. "And he wanted you from the start."

#call of duty #konig x reader #fanfic #ghost cod #ghost x reader #cod #konigxreader #ghost reader #callofduty

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slrmagazine · 10 months

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Togolese Metal Quintet ARKA'N ASRAFOKOR Unleashes New Video/Single “Walk With Us”

Togolese Metal Quintet ARKA'N ASRAFOKOR Unleashes New Video/Single “Walk With Us”. #arkanasrafokor @Arkanafrika

Togolese metal quintet and recent Atomic Fire Records signees ARKA’N ASRAFOKOR [Asrafocore = “Music of the Warriors”], are in the final stages of preparing the release of their upcoming sophomore album. In the meantime, today the band unleashes new video/single, “Walk With Us,” showcasing what will await metallers around the globe both sonically and visually. ARKA’N ASRAFOKOR comments…

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#ARKA&039;N ASRAFOKOR #Atomic Fire Records #Music of the Warriors #Walk With Us

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rockyoushow · 1 year

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German Metal Legends U.D.O. And Doro Release Singles On The Same Day

The legendary Doro Pesch has released a powerhouse anthem called ‘Time For Justice’ and Udo Dirskschneider’s U.D.O. also released a lyric video called ‘Forever Free’ from the upcoming album “Touchdown” to be released on August 25 through Atomic Fire Records. Doro’s upcoming album comes out on Nuclear Blast as is entitled “Conqueress: Forever Strong and Proud”. Udo Dirkschneider frontede Accept…

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#Atomic Fire Records #Doro #Nuclear Fire Records #U.D.O.#Udo Dirkschneider

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horrorpatch · 2 years

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CEMETARY Sign To Atomic Fire Records!

Swedish metal band CEMETARY has announced its signing with Germany’s Atomic Fire Records! The band has also announced a new album, Come To Ruin, set for release later this year on the new label. Keep reading for more details on this exciting news below. From The Press Release Atomic Fire Records is proud to announce the signing of Swedish cult metal band CEMETARY, one of the most exciting bands…

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#Atomic Fire Records #Cemetary band #Come To Ruin album #Death Meal #Doom metal #Gothic Metal #Mathias Lodmalm

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orphicrose · 7 months

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The Co-Host (Alastor x FemReader) VII

< >

Summary: You are Alastors Co host in life, perhaps more. But are separated by a sudden death. When you are finally reunited in the under world, it is up to Alastor to figure out why you don’t remember him.

Warnings ! ! Mentions of Death and Bl00D

@cannibalcoyote @kahlan170 @sugxryratz @multifandom-superlover

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Satan had left a very clear message, a warning that slacking will kill those that y/n cares for. The two had sat there for close to an hour, holding each other. Not knowing how to move forward. At some point they moved off the floor, and Alastor had pulled up a chair for y/n. Taking it upon himself to clean the messes of corpses littering the once lively office. Documents of clients stray everywhere and desks turned over, laid out over pools of crimson. Alastor waved his hand and in spawned a group of little demons from the pits below, rushing around like a cleaning crew to restore the building to it's former glory. Covering the scene of the crime like it had never happened.

Y/n sat there, staring out into space and clutching at her arms. Nails digging into her skin. "Miss l/n" Alastors hand carefully placed on her shoulder. "Maybe we should get you home?"

She looked up at him, wide eyed, for the first time since this happened. Rage slowly filling the bloodshot whites in her face, almost scaring the deer. "This is my fault" she scanned the room around her, reliving the first time she had walked in. " This is all because i sold my stupid soul to the devil. I never should have let that green eyed bitch into my life" She mumbled to herself.

Alastor remained silent, forcing her up by her shoulders. "Lets get you out of here, today is a sick day"

"If i don't start getting those souls to him, he will do worse. Alastor, i can't leave" Her voice was pleading, desperate. She fell to her knees, grabbing at any documents she could. Scanning through the files like a computer. "I need to catch up. I can't lose anyone else"

Alastor sensed that sentence came from a deeper place, one she wasn't conscious of. He had also realized there was no convincing her out of this. Her only escape was to be ridded of her owner, but that was another impossible task. Before he had the chance to get another word in, he was suffocated by a mass of purple mist. When it cleared, she was gone. Evaporated into the atoms of the air. He let out a gentle sigh, frustrated with his lack of options or ideas.

Perhaps there was information he could gather on her, find out why she had erased her own memory. There must be some way he can help. It was a good starting point nonetheless.

Her home was relatively far from the constrictions of her job, way outside of the city. Living life similarly to a cowboy. Her home had links to her passed life, radios scattered in every room and a record player as the mantle piece above her familiar fire. Life was littered around her home, perfectly displaying her as a person. Trinkets she had collected on display, colorful art work painting the walls. And hundreds and hundreds of diaries hidden around her room like subconscious clues to who she used to be. In most of the journals, little doodles. From when she was bored, to when she first landed in hell. A good way to pass the time. And in others, entries about little encounters she had. Like an inanimate therapist. Interesting, he thought.

He made his way through the house slowly, taking in every little detail he could find. Like a detective. But nothing seemed to give him a clue as to why she erased everything, even her entries. They were so simple and innocent, describing silly things like her funny looking regulars at her first job at the night club.

Above her bed sat a delicately painted picture of a small buck, being hunted by a man. It caught his eye, the colours bold. Unlike everything else in the house, it was crookedly placed. Intrigued, he pulled the frame from the wall, revealing a small hole carved into the wood. There, sat a small mahogany box. Hand carved with intricate patterns and smelling like an old furniture store. Obviously, he opened it. Sat on the bed with it in his lap. Inside was well kept documents, leaflets and a tiny journal stuffed at the bottom.

Again, pages and pages of doodles and innocent entries. Mostly about her first experiences in hell. This must mean something to be this well hidden. No one apart from her usually enters this home, so who was she hiding it from if it wasn't herself. Then his fingers stopped at a page, eyes glimmering with hope as he read the first few words.

"I was finally haunted with the presence of satan today" he mumbled to himself, reading the curved handwriting. Finger following the line he was on. "He found me. I knew this day would come but not this soon. I was a stupid teen, once upon a time. I only with i could say i was like every other stupid teen but i was worse. Life was hard, and instead of working for what i wanted, i cheated. I made a deal with the devil. My soul in return for power, for fame. And now, because of my greed, i will be stuck for eternity in this ses pit. Doing to others what he did to me. I cannot hate myself enough for it. What would he think of you, y/n? What would your mother think of you." The entry went on for another three pages, cursing herself out for the damned deal she made. Alastor had enough, setting aside the box. Holding back tears for the first time since he had lost her.

Part of him was relieved that it wasn't because of him. But a part of him was eating away, telling him everything was a lie. Everything was set up, it was never supposed to happen. She forced her hand and got everything she wished for, while he worked for it. But he could care less about that, if he was honest. Everyone did what they needed to during that time, to survive. She wasn't a bad person, she was a human.

But what made it worse, she never knew of the atrocities he had committed. She died believing he was a good man, and forgot about his existence before she could find out who he was. How would he ever break that to her. How could he break her curse, and wake her up to the painful truth. The truth that he was a monster through and through. The old y/n died, believing in her heart, that he would be up there protecting her mother. How would he ever come back from that.

Tears welled in his eyes, refusing to let the, spill onto his cheek as he looked up. His shadow by his side, attempting to offer a sincere hand to his shoulder with a sad look in his face.

"What have I done, old friend?"

Over a hundred souls claimed in less than an hour must have been a new record for y/n, poofing in and out of existence like a gene. She was exhausted, black rings circling her eyes as her body began to slow. Not properly grieving anything that she had lost, ever. A voice in the back of her head screaming at her to slow down, but she ignored it. Making up the numbers as best as she could. Hours passed by before she knew it, managing to break a daily number. If only she had a team to celebrate with. She never realized it at the time, but she truly cared about a vast majority of her staff. Regretting how poorly she treated them at times, she had to stop. She needed to think. Just a second to gather her thoughts.

The door to her empty home slammed behind her, everything as she left it. Her body fell to her bed like a brick. legs flying up like a cartoon before landing on the bed. Finally being able to breath. Blood had hardened around the tips of her nails from the morning, not being able to shake that feeling of loss. So many thoughts and feelings suffocating the demon, till her eyes hit something stray on her floor. Tucked under her bed as if to hide. Something she didn't recognize. A small leaflet. On the front, a photo of her with a younger gentle man. His eyes matching the brown on his hair, and his slim nose supporting a pair of hand crafter glasses. She didn't remember ever taking this photo, so why was it here. What made it stranger, her skin had colour to it and her hair looked alive. This was not in hell.

The title read "Tune in to 'Alastor and his Co-host, speak easy night!". 'Alastor' she thought, picturing the tall red deer. Then looking again at the handsome man in the photo, how uncanny it was. They looked far to similar. She gripped her head as if in pain, as if she was trying to suppress what she had been keeping a secret from herself for far too long. Her mind went back years, to when she first obtained power. Just before she had forced herself into amnesia.

There was a night where her heart missed him too much to go on. She needed to see him. Y/n figured that with her new ability to form on earth, it wouldn't hurt to check in on him. His home was empty in the night, strange. But it wasn't uncommon for him to visit the radio tower when he was thinking. Her body materialized into his room, falling into the trap of crying uncontrollably when his scent hit her nose for the first time in a long time. Suffocated with her need for his touch. But he couldn't see her. She didn't want to scare him.

Wondering around the empty house, she reveled in their memories together. Collecting some trinkets to keep with her in the afterlife. Like a few of his jumpers, he wouldn't notice, a small polaroid photo of the two which she would later lose; and a leaflet. She was surprised to find it casually lying on his dining room table. Since it was an advertisement for one of their first broadcasts years ago. She spent her time staring at his face, missing that darling smile, when the door slammed in the distance. His familiar footsteps crawling closer and closer. Y/n was desperate to see him one more time, hiding behind the pantry door. Leaving a small crack to get a good view of her love.

In he walked, brown hair glowing with specks of red, which trailed down and had stained his once white shirt. Sleeves rolled up like he had been sweating, but his body shaking as if he was cold. That look of glee and innocence was gone, replaced with a psychotic charm. His smile one of a killer, not a idol. Y/n stood, confused and frightened. As if she was going to be a victim. Forgetting she could disappear whenever she pleased.

"What have I done?" The man laughed, visually pleading with himself internally to stop. He was conflicted with his own mind. Like jekyl and hyde. This wasn't Alastor anymore. She didn't know who he was. But she knew she wished she never found out.

Y/n sat in her bed, holding the leaflet. Hands shaking like they did that night. There was so many holes in her memories. She still didn't fully believe this was of her own memory, but something made up to scare her. What was her relationship to him, why does she feel so compelled to be by him. But so frightened of his name, of that image of him in her mind. Were they destined to meet in hell?

"I need to find him"

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