#like i had 1920 yesterday

[tittyinfinity]

Has anyone noticed that their follower count doesn't go up when bots follow you? Or is that just me?

[writhe]

there are some things that inherently have a lot of Feeling to me and it's weird realizing that it's not unusual or uncommon for this to not be the case for people but it's also strange because it's hard not to react to things like old floorboards or old brick structures or the interiors of dilapidated houses. like, the self control it takes to not swoon in some sort of overwhelming reverence....what do you mean you don't feel it too

[spindrifters]

my nana died yesterday. she was 94, and beautiful. the boys at her university used to call her champagne. she was a leo. an actress. a youth counselor. a labor union organizer. a mystic. very much the main event. she got to live a long and fantastic life, and I will miss her so, so much.

but I want to talk about something.

my nana had a difficult relationship with jews. not her own judaism. other american jews.

she was sephardi in ashkenormative america to begin with, already had serious beef to start. the ashki temple in her city refused to bury her father in the only jewish graveyard because he wasn't a member. she was a microminority within a minority that had no grace at the time for her.

it didn't help that she was born in the 1920s and watched over the course of the 20th century and the aftermath of the horrors of the shoah as zionism went from an unpopular fringe movement to something that took over and corrupted the establishment of her faith. my nana was a staunch and vocal antizionist, like her parents before her.

it isn't lost on me, the irony of her maiden name.

israel.

something that long predates the establishment of the settler colonial state in palestine. it was never meant to be what it's become. did you know that jews didn't used to have last names? we had patronyms. christians forced us to take their idea of surnames around the 17th century. most ashkenazim picked their trades. gold or silver or cohen. for sephardim, it was popular to go with where they lived at the time or where they had once had roots. mitrani and lousada and taranto. maybe it was so they could find each other in the diaspora.

but my ancestors took it a step further. they chose to go with israel. the name of that diaspora. the unifying tribal name, that needs no physical land to identify itself. it means one who wrestles with god. it was something beautiful, once. like my nana. for her sake, I hope one day it could be again.

may her memory be a revolution.

[kitasgloves]

"A Secret for the Stars"

— ♬ Fyodor was a regular at the tavern you work at. But behind every polite smile and gesture, was a different man he'd rather not show you...yet.

— ♬ Fyodor Dostoevsky x Reader, SFW, 1920s AU, fem-bodied reader, Fyodor is kinda lowkey obsessive and unhinged on this one (I mean, when is he not?), 2.4k words, no beta

— ♬ hello, yes, I have returned to serve my first bsd fanfic and it's this russian rat, hope you guys enjoy though

The evening was particularly colder than yesterday. People occasionally strolled by in the streets, pulling their coats tighter and rubbing their palms to produce warmth. Pitiful beggars were reaching their dirty hands out to every passerby, their pathetic countenance left unseen by others, making it impossible to extract a little bit of sympathy. In rare instances, someone would look at a beggar's face, but it's either with unconcealed disgust or sheer sympathy. A man represents the latter, his gloved hand digs into the pocket of his coat and gives the beggar five coins worth of money. The beggar's face lights up significantly, eyes watering with heartfelt compassion at the male stranger as he thanks them silently with a weak nod. He nods back before resuming his walk.

He takes each step with confidence and certainty. Anyone who lands their gaze on him can tell he's a man of rationality. A man who knew how to form foolproof plans and had success etched on the palm of his hand. His ebony peaked cap rests comfortably on top of his dark head, his complexion rivaling the snow, and his slim but tall build utters grace. He had on a black coat with a dark waistcoat underneath, his white dress shirt and red tie peaked out. His charcoal trousers and boots were cleaned and polished. One would take him for a nobleman or someone with great importance.

Deep violet eyes scan the old tavern ahead, it was a place he frequented in after his daily 'affairs'. From the sufficient light through the windows, he deduces that the tavern was packed with drunkards this evening. Nonetheless, he enters. The scent of alcohol and tobacco filled the atmosphere, he merely gags. He strides to his favorite spot, near the back where nobody bothers to occupy. He removes his hat and takes a seat. His observant eyes watch the sea of drunkards hollering and insulting each other during a game of cards, a few were slumped over on their tables smoking, and some had managed to pass out on the disgusting wooded, beyond intoxicated.

Amid the chaos, he hears soft footsteps approach. He holds back a smile for he recognizes the owner of the footsteps. He carefully turns his head and his eyes meet the warmest [Eye color] orbs he has ever encountered.

"Good evening, Fyodor! May I fetch your usual?"

"Please, of course, my dear"

Fyodor replies with familiarity. You and Fyodor only knew each other by name and face, you two didn't have any conversations but only polite greetings. You worked as a waitress in this tavern. Amongst the rough faces available in the place, yours by far are the most comforting. Fyodor found you fascinating. He couldn't exactly point his finger at it but it had something to do with your indifference in your environment. You've served him the same drink for months to the point a routine was formed and became familiar.

An educated man such as he knows how to pay your service with the right amount of money and a polite smile, unlike most of the hounds that occupied the tavern. Fyodor could barely hide his disgust at seeing drunkards stretch out their arms in an attempt to snatch you into their laps, their greedy and dirty hands testified to their perverted minds. However, you remained unshaken. You avoided their attempts at snatching as you ignored their whistles for a 'pretty young lady' to come over.

If Fyodor were to be a lesser man, he would've agreed with those perverted drunkards. You had a gentle face and complexion. Your eyes glimmered like the stars in the midnight sky while your smile resembled the sunrise. Your body suggested a healthy shape. And your movements weren't one of a graceful swan, but rather, a woman who knew what she was worth. Fyodor had an assumption of your hidden intelligence, you must be one of the fortunate ones in this poverty-stricken city to have learned how to read and write. Though, he would like to understand why you have chosen this occupation. For your good looks, you could've become an actress at the local theatre, it could've landed you great opportunities to travel overseas if you performed well. Or you could've, like any beautiful maiden, been married off to a wealthy man and lived your life with effortless luxury.

But he thinks he preferred you this way, serving him his vodka. When you returned with his drink, you didn't wander off, instead, you stood there as if waiting for him to speak up. Fyodor's lips curl up into a smirk at this.

"Thank you, [Name]. How is your day?"

"It's as equally as exhausting as the previous days, but it is nothing I couldn't manage"

"Hm, I admire your resilience. After all, how is one to strive in an environment like this?"

Fyodor gestures to the wild atmosphere at the tavern, you only laughed and waved your hand off.

"It's only necessary for me to try and strive here. I cannot afford to lose this job"

"And why's that? Are there no other opportunities?"

"I'm afraid no, my friend. You see, I have an unfinished education and a massive family debt I am responsible for helping to pay off"

"I see, how unfortunate"

This was the first proper conversation Fyodor has had with you and he immediately absorbs all of the information you have unconsciously given him. He greedily wastes your time in thirst to know more.

"You look famished, my dear. Would you like to take a seat for a moment?"

"Oh, only for a brief while"

You accepted his offer and sat across from him. Fyodor keeps the conversation alive by inquiring about more about yourself through innocent questions. He's both surprised and amused that you're answering his questions truthfully. He realizes you weren't bashful or meek. He recalls encountering women and seeing them with tinted cheeks and silently batting their eyelashes at him, hoping he'd be the first to speak or to fall for them. How absurd! Yet you have never batted your eyelashes at him, from what he gathers from your mannerisms, you only view him as the only peaceful regular at this wretched tavern. His eyes narrowed when one of those stupid drunkards called you to serve him another bottle of alcohol. 

"If you'll excuse me..."

You say to him as you flutter away from his presence. You haven't returned to his table for a while and it's making him impatient. Fyodor was determined to stay until you came back, watching and enduring you get constantly harassed by those foolish men. It was nearly midnight when the tavern usually closes, you ushered every drunk customer out before you began to clean up. Fyodor was the last to remain, on purpose. While you haven't graced him with your attention since you left the conversation, he has finished scheming.

"Have you gone tipsy, my friend?"

You asked him when you finally approached his table. Fyodor shakes his head and smiles.

"Oh no, I am not drunk, my dear"

"Well, that's a relief! I'm afraid you have to leave for the tavern is about to close"

"Is that so? Oh, I have not realized how late it was! But how will you walk home at this late hour?"

You chuckled as he perfected the feigned concerned expression on his face, it had seemed to effectively fool you.

"I am comfortable with finding my way home alone, Fyodor"

"Nonsense, a lady without company at this darkest hour isn't safe. May I accompany you at least until the end of the street?"

"How kind of you, my friend! Yes, but let me finish cleaning up first"

You turned to tidy the tavern, completely missing the cunning smirk on Fyodor's face. He selfishly watches you move around the tavern, cleaning tables while humming a tune and bending over to pick up the fallen chairs. His violet eyes gleamed with greed as he etched each movement into his memory.

"Are you finished, my dear?"

"Yes, let us head out"

Both of you exited the tavern, a cold breeze greeting you. He watched you pull your worn-out coat close to your shivering figure as he walked beside you. The street was dimly lit, it was sufficient to hide the satisfied look on his face. Suddenly, you looked up at him with curiosity.

"May I ask what job do you have, Fyodor?"

"I am involved with the government"

There was a look of surprise on your features. Of course, Fyodor's reply was neither the full truth nor half a lie. He needed you to think highly of him.

"No wonder you dress with importance! I did not know one of our regulars was a famous man"

"I am well-known in some parts of the city, but I'm far from famous, my dear"

"Well, then you must receive a lot of invitations and love letters every day!"

You beamed at him, Fyodor admits that he adores your natural curiosity of him. He doubts he'd be willing to show you who he truly was. Because he was more than that polite customer you serve vodka to almost every evening. His acquaintances and enemies regarded him the same way; he was a cynical man with a skill for scheming. He's selfish when it comes to his personal goals. His name has caused the destruction of many that have dared to stumble in his way. But he chuckles and replies to you.

"How insightful you are. I indeed receive a lot of invitations and love letters, but I only respond to letters with important affairs"

"I hope you're not the kind that burns love letters to keep his bath warm"

You remarked as you gazed forward. Fyodor merely freezes at what you said. He knows he has no room for romance in his life. Rationality doesn't require emotions. He could choose to laugh and tell you that he does burn love letters but he doesn't use them to keep his bath warm. Though the love letters were sufficient enough to keep his bath warm, he sees no form of use for them. They are nothing but unreciprocated affections sprawled on paper.

"No, my dear. That would be heartless"

"That's a relief. I do not think you're a cruel man, Fyodor"

Oh, how quick you were to accept that false answer. Fyodor preferred you to perceive him as a harmless man and leave this pristine image of him unstained. You were talkative, and it was the first mistake you'd ever made, if anyone who knew him saw this, they would warn you. One shouldn't be at ease to open up to a man like Fyodor, he's the kind of man to use anything you tell him against you. However, you weren't an enemy and he wasn't planning on making you one. He liked what he had with you now, for the time being.

Halfway down the street, Fyodor thinks how he would like to suck the life out of you. The way you babbled on and on about the most trivial parts of your life gave an impression that you were begging him to ruin you. The pure nativity and innocence you displayed in your eyes made his throat dry. Behind the smile he's giving you was a dark thought, he was prepared to use you in any way he could. It was surprising how effortless it was to manipulate you.

As you both reached the end of the street, you peered up at him with a smile. The street was divided into two; the path you stood behind was filled with bright streetlights while the one on his side had faded lighting.

"Will I see you again tomorrow at the tavern?"

"Of course, you will, my dear"

"Thank you for walking with me"

There was a different form of a smile on your face, it looked tender, and it almost reminded him of someone's mother. Fyodor had always watched you for a long time, he'd seen every expression you had to offer but this smile was new. And something that wasn't part of his scheme, occurred: you have reached to the tips of your toes to place a chaste kiss on his left cheek. For a moment, his contemptuous thoughts of you vanish. A terrifying warmth blooms in his chest. Fyodor stares at you unblinking.

"Goodbye, Fyodor"

He couldn't open his mouth to reply as you walked down that street on your way home. What in God's name was that? With a gloved hand, he reaches for his left cheek and recoils back like he's been burnt. Why did you do that? Fyodor furrowed his eyebrows and frowned. How disgusting! Yet his skin kept tingling. His mind replayed every smile, every laugh, and every moment he'd shared with you. He shakes his head. Pathetic! He thinks. However, he imagined you sharing those moments with somebody else morphing his hands into fists.

Fyodor grumbles as he makes his way down the dimly lit street. His eyes stare up at the sky towards the stars. Those glimmering stars only reminded him of your eyes and he scoffs. The stars perhaps have an idea of the feeling forming in his bosom. The stars have witnessed every cry of a man filled with despair and every confession of a man filled with love. But in this instance, Fyodor would tell the stars a secret instead.

A secret of his desire to obtain you. They would know how he wanted to pull you by the hand and run his hands through your hair. They would know how he would inhale your scent and steal your innocence. The stars would know how Fyodor has fallen captive under the mysterious spell that has got him determined to have you. He would rather pluck his eyes out than fall on his knees in front of you. No, he would never beg. Fyodor knows better than to beg, to beg means to admit defeat. But if God decides to take you away from him, well...he must be prepared to be a heretic.

Only the stars know now of his cunning plans for he has muttered it up to the midnight sky. Fyodor knows that stars burn up and die in the end so his secret would be safe for as long as he's alive. He laughed to himself as he continued to walk down the street.

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

[mewhenimanangel]

cherry, eren jaeger

—synopsis. mikasa’s eighteenth birthday party leads to you and eren becoming a little something more

—chapter 6 ౨ৎ

𝜗𝜚 content!: au-high school, teen romance, black reader, underaged drinking, oral sex, vaginal fingering, make outs

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you decided you were going to skip practice today to save energy for mikasa's party.

after eren dropped you home on monday, he texted you all the details of the party and mikasa followed you on your socials.

you shamelessly stalked her page for pictures of eren. you never actually knew what their relationship was, you'd heard that mikasa was apparently adopted by eren's parents but you didn't know if that was entirely true.

you had went shopping yesterday for a white feathery boa and gold sling back heels.

currently, you were sitting at your vanity straightening your hair, you decided to bump the ends to try and match the 1920s hair trends. you'd been at it for 2 hours and you were finally almost done.

once you were done with your makeup you got dressed into the dress you'd shown eren and the heels you bought. you wrapped a gold chain headpiece over your head and put gold bangle cuffs on your arm.

you sprayed some perfume before you heard the doorbell ring. you went downstairs to answer it since no one else was home.

you smiled seeing eren waiting on the porch. he wore a white long sleeve button down with a black bow tie, black dress pants and dress shoes.

you noticed his hair was cut, it was still fluffy and long but no longer ponytail long. "ohhhh, new do?" you reached for his hair. he smiled as your nails combed through his hair. "yeah you like it?"

"i do actually, your barber must love you" he laughed before reaching for your arm.

"you look fucking amazing" he traced his hand down the curve of your waist. "this hair is so classy" he lightly brushed a finger though it before reaching to hold your chin. you subconsciously leaned into his touch "hm why thank you. you look very classy and handsome too"

"are you ready to go?" "yeah, just lemme grab my purse and my phone" you told him. he waited by the stairs as you ran up to grab your things.

once you were back downstairs, his hand found its place on the small of your back as you walked out the front door.

he opened the door to the passenger seat for you as you sat down. it was about a thirty minute drive to the place.

the house in question screamed pure opulence. it was a two story, old money style home with a pathed garden. there were a bunch of cars parked outside the home and lingering down the block.

"jesus whose house is this??"you scoffed. "jean's. he let mikasa throw the party here as some big gesture to ask her out." eren rolled his eyes. "what you don't approve?" you giggled. "not necessarily but it's cool" he shrugged.

"he's kind of an asshole sometimes but i guess he's toned it down a little lately" he scoffed, leaving the car. he opened your door and held your hand as you stepped out.

"thank you kind sir" you wrapped your arm around his. "you're welcome m'lady" eren put on an accent.

you walked up the path to the front entrance of this house. "god how does jean even have a house like this, this is insane" "his dad's the ceo of a stock brokerage company or something like that" eren told you "he makes like 300k a year or something like that" your jaw dropped.

sometimes you forget how rich some of the people at your school were. the school itself was expensive you knew that, but you were attending off scholarship. it's not like you were poor or anything, your situation just did not compare to some of your peers.

"that's wild" you scoffed. eren held open the door for you and you looked around at how beautiful it was inside. people were scattered around the foyer with drinks in hand, there were caterers scurrying to the kitchen and chefs in the back. the room was decorated with golden streamers, clear and white balloons, wine glasses, feathers, hanging lights, everything in the room was white, black and gold. there was a chandelier in the middle of the room, but you were sure that was just jean's regular house decor.

everyone was dressed in 20s attire - girls in long dresses, flapper dresses, feathers, and long jewelry. boys were in vests, suspenders, hats, and suits. you looked to your left to what looked like jean's living room, now without couches and instead tables for all the guests.

mikasa and armin turned around to see you and eren made it and made her way over to the two of you. "ugh finally you're here" she reached her hands out to hug eren from the side as eren dapped armin. "hi" he waved to you and you smiled, returning the wave.

mikasa wore a long champagne colored dress with jewels sewed onto it. her headband had a white feather sticking out of it and she wore a gold silk shawl.

"hey, you look so cute!" she smiled at you. "thanks you look amazing! happy birthday" she hugged you next. "thank you" she smiled. "this is all so.." she cut you off "over the top and unnecessary? i know, jean went overboard" she sighed. "actually i was gonna say beautiful" you laughed.

"well i'll see you guys, sasha just texted me asking us to meet her" she said, grabbing armin's hand.

"oh speaking of, lana told me to text her when we got here" you told eren and he nod his head, not letting go of your hand.

you texted her that you were in the foyer and saw her immediately head your direction with connie.

"oh my god you look delicious i could literally eat you out right now" she said, hugging you. "yo!" connie raised his eyebrows at her. "yall are so gay" he laughed.

"did you guys get drinks yet, jean's got drinks in the back to spike them" she told you. "oh shit don't let y/n get drunk like last time" eren laughed at connie's joke. "what? what happened last time?" you furrowed your eyebrows. "when you were shaking your ass on that table in front of everyone at jean's party" connie told you, lana flicked his hand.

"oh my god i did that?!" you looked at eren and lana. eren just laughed "at least you looked good" he smirked and you rolled your eyes.

"come on, let's go get drinks and then i'll show you guys where we're sitting" lana grabbed your hand as connie and eren followed behind.

lana poured a drink in a glass and handed it to you before showing you to your table. "the food better be good" lana said. "right" you laughed.

armin, mikasa, jean, marco, and sasha joined you all at the table. there was music playing and people dancing, everyone had gotten their food after the chefs opened the kitchen to everyone.

carla and grisha got up to make toasts to mikasa, followed by eren and armin. the music paused for everyone to sing happy birthday to her and take pictures. by now you had 3 shots worth of alcohol in your drinks, thanks to lana.

also thanks to lana, everyone at the table joined the crowd of people in the middle of the room dancing and jumping around.

the alcohol in your system was a comfortable level of drunk, you weren't drunk to the point of a hangover the next day but you were drunk enough that your limbs felt a little loose.

'fancy' by drake was playing on jean's speakers with everyone singing along and dancing. "how are your feet not hurting?" sasha asked you and lana, taking off her heels. "pointe shoes prepared us for this" lana laughed.

eren was with you this time, also a little drunk himself. his bow tie was off and his shirt was unbuttoned three buttons down, your boa and head piece were discarded at the table. he sang along with you, hand refusing to leave your waist as you danced along with lana.

he admired how carefree you were when you got like this, every time you danced it's like you were a different person, or maybe an extension of yourself. you danced so freely and even when you whined your hips you were graceful.

your arms were up in the air as you twirled your hips. eren held onto them as he felt your butt graze against the front of his pants. he tried to ignore it and continue dancing but you kept doing it. his grip on your waist held tighter, he saw the sly smirk on your face as you slightly turned your head.

he felt you push your ass further back on him and he bit his cheek to distract from letting a certain something grow behind you.

"y/n come with me i have to go to the bathroom!" lana dragged your hand, quickly looking for jean's restroom. "i'll be back" you turned to wink at him.

he scoffed and shook his head with a dumb grin on his face. jesus, everything about you just left him wanting more. you really knew how to make him chase.

lana bunched up her dress and sat down on the toilet while you fixed your hair and checked yourself out in the mirror. "broke the seal?" you asked, giggling. "broke the seal...." she sighed.

she moved you over so she could wash her hands. "i have to go send my mom proof of life" she told you. "you can go, just give a second" you told her.

she gave you a kiss on the cheek and left the bathroom.

you dug in your purse for your lip gloss and perfume, freshening yourself up a little bit. you opened the door to go back to everyone. you startled when you saw eren standing off to the side on his phone.

"are you following me?" "maybe" he smiled, leaning up off the wall to stand closer in front of you. "you smell good" you watched his chest rise as he inhaled to smell you again. "mm thank you" you looked up at him. "so why'd you follow me, i was coming back you know...miss me that much?" you grinned.

he just stared at you for a moment "i wanna kiss you again" the want in his voice sounded so earnest. "so do it.." you barely got the full sentence out before his lips were on yours and your back was against the wall. you stopped for a moment before melting into the kiss.

you moved your hands to hold the side of his head, letting your nails run through his shortened hair. eren loved it.

his hand rest on your hip while the other grazed down the side of your body to hold your thigh through the slit of your dress. he held up your leg to rest on his side while his leg bumped forward between your thigh. you groaned feeling his knee brush against your panties.

"been wanting to kiss you again since that night. all i've thought about" eren met your eyes before moving to kiss your neck. you were thankful that this bathroom was concealed by jean's stairs, but you were still worried someone might come over and you put a hand on eren's chest telling him to wait.

eren paused. "i'm worried someone might come over here" you told him.

he looked around for a moment before grabbing your hand and pulling you toward a door at the end of the hallway. he opened the door to find a small study on the other side. you entered, looking around for a moment while eren closed and locked the door.

eren grabbed your arm and you slipped your purse off your shoulder letting it land on the desk. you threw your arms around his neck and pressed your lips back on his. he walked you backwards until the back of your thighs bumped against the desk. he eased you to sit down, placing himself in between your legs.

he kissed down your neck and across your shoulders, leaving a deep red mark on your clavicle. now you'd have to cover that up, but it was worth it.

he looked up at you for the go ahead as he pulled the strap of your dress down your shoulder. you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and nod your head.

his eyes were full of lust with a sly grin on his face as he pulled the top of your dress down, revealing your bare tits. "damn, how are you this perfect?" he seemed a little hesitant to put his hands on you, hands slowly easing up your waist so you grabbed his hands and put them on your boobs.

"don't be shy, i won't break. i want you" you whispered against his lips before kissing him. your breath hitched when you felt his calloused thumb rubbing against your nipple. he gave you one last peck on your lips before moving to put your tit in his mouth.

your eyes closed and you hummed in pleasure. this was the first time anyone else has ever touched you like this. you moaned as you held the back of his head in your hand. you brought your hands to his chest, beginning to unbutton his shirt. his stomach and chest were toned but note over muscly, he had little freckles and a beauty mark. you let your hands trace over his body.

you looked down to see there was another mark on your boob, just above your nipple. god he was really setting you up.

"eren...i want more" you whined. you could feel yourself getting wet, panties clinging to your vagina. all you wanted was his mouth on you. "hm? what do you need pretty girl?"

you held his hand and trailed it down to your panties. "need you right here" you had a teasing grin on your face as you held his hand over your clothed clit. "anything you want baby" he smirked.

he moved your dress, bunching it up at your waist as he brought your ass closer to the edge of the desk.

he kissed you again as his arm dipped between your bodies, rubbing a finger along your slit through the fabric of your panties. you moaned as your lips smashed together.

he reached for the waistband of your panties and began to slowly pull them off of you. you eagerly lifted your hips to help him get them off.

"you still good princess?" you knew he was asking if you were still up for it, which you most definitely were. you nod your head "i wanna hear you say it" "yes eren, i want you to fuck me"

hearing those sultry words come out of your mouth make eren's head spin. if he wasn't hard before - which he was, he was definitely hard now.

he gathered your slick on his finger before slowly pushing his middle finger inside you. you immediately let out a string of moans as he began to curl his finger inside you. it was much longer and way more pleasurable than awkwardly trying to angle your own fingers just right. you felt your face getting warm.

he add his ring finger into the mix, curling and pumping them inside you just right. you held on his shoulders tight as your moans and hums filled the room. thankful for the music playing outside the room, you knew you weren't being too loud.

"feel good princess?" he kissed your forehead. "so good" you groaned, voice light and airy.

"want you to go down on me ren...wanna feel your mouth" you looked at him, eyes pleading.

eren felt his cheeks warm and knew he was definitely blushing. god, how'd you manage to make him blush. he was almost nervous.

"i've got you baby" he kissed you before lowering himself to his knees in front of you. he anchored his hands on your thighs, spreading open your legs. 

he kissed down your thighs until he was face to face with your core. he pressed light feathery kisses against your lips before licking a stripe along your folds. you shuddered, you swore you could've came off that alone.

you got whiplash from how quick eren want from kitten licks to eating you like you were his last meal.

he sucked against your puffy clit, face practically buried in you. he licked his tongue in and out of your hole, before swirling it against your clit too.

his soft tongue worked over your folds, it's like he was trying to explore every crevice of you with his tongue. you couldn't help but grind your hips against his face, following the flow of how he ate you out. a moan ripped out of you as you felt his tongue go inside you again, you leaned back to anchor yourself on the desk with one hand while the other gripped his hair.

"fuck ren~ feels so.." you couldn't even get your sentence out when you felt him press his thumb against your clit, continuing to work his tongue over you.

you looked down to see him looking back up at you, eyes filled with lust and pride.

the combination of his thumb circling your nerves and his tongue prodding against your entrance had your mind blank. nothing you'd ever done on yourself felt this good.

your hand gripped his hair tighter and he let out a groan that sent goosebumps over your body.

the knot in your lower stomach grew tighter an tighter and before you knew it, you were cumming. your chest rose and fell as you held yourself up on your arms, head thrown back.

eren lapped every drop before coming to his feet again. "god you're....so fucking good at that..." you were practically out of breath. "you taste just as good as you look princess" he kissed you again and you could taste yourself against his lips.

the moment was over though when your phone began ringing. you sighed before reaching to answer it. it was lana, you put her on speaker, your body was so worked out you didn't feel like holding up your phone.

"dude where are you? i thought i was taking you home??" her voice was frantic. "yeah you are just give me a few minutes. i'll meet you outside" you told her. "why do you sound so out of breath, were you off running a marathon or something"

you looked at the teasing look on eren's face and rolled your eyes. "okay bye me and connie will meet you out front" she said before hanging up.

"sorry i didn't you know..help you out.." you looked down at the tent in his pants. "nah don't worry about it. just glad i could make you feel good" he kissed you. "and you definitely did. that was my first time getting eaten out, my first time doing anything actually" you admitted.

eren's eyebrows raised "for real?" you nod your head. "why didn't you tell me? that wasn't even my best best work for real. let's go. round two" he peppered kisses on your face making you giggle.

"lana's gonna be irritated if i keep her waiting" you said, pulling the sleeves up on your dress, eren rolled his eyes. "but don't worry, i definitely want there to be a part two" you whispered in his ear before leaving the room.

[bijoumikhawal]

I mentioned this in the tags of a post the other day, but since NK is high profile and getting a lot of videos shared, and I saw someone today decry a short speech one of their rabbis gave as "extremist", I guess I'll make a post too

Neturei Karta is a Litvish Ultra-Orthodox/Haredi antizionist group. In my experience, they are the most high profile antizionist group that ties that stance to their religious practice within Judaism, but they are not the only group (the Satmar are also generally antizionist, and they're a larger group, but they don't like NK).

As I mentioned yesterday, there was an incident with Iran- one of two, actually, but this one gets brought up more- where NK sent speakers to a conference specifically for the purposes of defending the existence of the Holocaust, as several Holocaust deniers were in attendance. The speaker specifically chosen had his grandparents die in the Holocaust. However, he also was blunt in stating his opinion that Zionists used the Holocaust to oppress others, Zionists had been collaborators and thwarted efforts to save Jewish lives. This prompted the Chief Ashkenazi Rabbi to call for their excommunication, essentially, and for the Satmar and broader Haredi movement to tell people to stay away from them. These remarks are complicated; many incidents one could classify as collaboration were Zionists trying to move Jews out of Europe, to save lives. However, when the speaker said the third statement, I'm fairly certain he was genuinely expressing his own intergenerational trauma. Early Zionists did indeed, have a fair amount of animosity towards Orthodox Jews. At one point Theodore Herzl (a founder of the modern Zionist movement) did express the opinion that Jews should convert en masse to Christianity, and the feeling was that the Orthodox who refused should be left to their fate. This accusation is a response to a very real tension among Jews that existed at the time. And the collaborationism was not always about saving lives; the Lehi gang, which committed the Deir Yassin massacre, sought out an alliance with the Nazis on several occasions, and expressed a desire for a totalitarian nationalist state.

Another incident was one where NK met with heads of state in early 2006, particularly Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, after criticizing other Jews for referring to remarks he made as antisemitic, and did an interview with Iranian press where they stated the Holocaust was used as a political tool by Zionists, that Zionism is "not Jewish, but political", and that not all Jews are Zionists. They also clearly stated that when they say they are not Zionists, they do not mean withdrawal to 67 borders, but a full dissolution of state, where Jews still can live with Palestinians. Later on in 2006, Ahmadinejad made comments about the reality of the Holocaust that prompted Haroun Yashayaei, one of the most prominent members of the Iranian Jewish community, to publicly speak put against him (and no, he didn't get arrested over that. He actually is also a movie producer and got an award in 2008).

It should be noted that in West Asia and North Africa, Iran is one of only a few countries that still has a significant Jewish population. The others are Turkey (14,500), Azerbaijan (7,200), Morocco (2,100), and Tunisia (1,000). For those unaware, this is significant because during the 1920s and 30s, many colonial governments stripped WANA Jews of citizenship, and in the 40s-60s, many post colonial WANA countries forcibly expelled local Jews. As a result, the centuries long presence of Jews in countries such as Egypt or Syria is down a hundred or fewer individuals in many cases. Ideologically, I do not support Iran's government because it's a theocratic state that treats Kurds like shit, but all of NK's interactions with Iran must be contextualized in light of this. This is not me using WANA Jews as a rhetorical device either: my paternal country, Egypt, which I wish I could so much as visit, is such a country. The 2016 Iranian census puts the country's Jewish population at 9,826. That's a number that I would weep to see reported in Egypt, and the second highest of any West Asia or North African country.

Personally while I hold no serious ideological disagreement with NK over antizionism, I do not wholly support them for other reasons (gender/sexuality politics reasons primarily). I bring up these incidents with Iran because in the past I've seen people claim they are Holocaust deniers, or that they think Jewish people brought the Holocaust on themselves. I have never seen a NK member say ANYTHING of that sort, and the idea that Jews bring antisemitism in any form on themselves is in fact an actual belief Herzl held. The closest I've heard is when NK distributed leaflets after a Chabad was attacked in Mumbai where they criticized Chabad for being in bed with Zionists. I'll be linking some articles in the replies of this post about this, including the text of the actual speech given at the Tehran conference so it can be read in full.

[serasfanfiction]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3| Part 4 | Part 5| Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

CW: For Valentino being Valentino. He doesn't do anything, but he does say some things.

oOo

The closer they came to V Tower, the more loud everything became.

Paper posters gave way to bulletin boards. Every street was lit with flashing signs and arrows, pointing the way to different businesses down the main strip. Advertisements were nearly plastered on every single available surface, competing with each other in a cacophony of bright colors and promises to make all of one's troubles go away, if only one bought the product.

Sinners wandered the streets, some glued to their phones as they typed out a text message, watched a video, or shouted at someone on the other end of a phone call. Some sinners loitered around various shops selling televisions, each screen showing an advertisement for the latest gadget VoxTek was selling.

The Vees made it ridiculously easy to learn their faces, as none of the trio were shy about plastering their likeness all over their wares. Vox was clearly unafraid to throw his reputation behind anything he supported, one advertisement proclaiming, "I'd buy it." Valentino left nothing to the imagination - figurative or literally - on what he was selling, with various larger than life posters that featured the moth scantily clad and in suggestive poses. Velvette was significantly more reserved, in comparison, with only a billboard advertising her perfume, named, Love Potion.

Quite frankly speaking, it was all a bit overstimulating.

Walking nonchalantly at his side, Alastor barely gave any of bombastic sights around him a second glance. He had made little commentary since they had set out from the hotel earlier in the day, falling silent as they had entered the Vees territory. Where all of this technology was practically invented yesterday, as far as Lucifer was concerned, Alastor had lived on Earth when most of the technology around them was still in its infancy stages. Advertising, likewise, was hardly new. Humans had been shouting at each other to buy this or to buy that since they'd first come up with the idea of selling a product. They may not have had flashing lights in the 1920s or 30s, but there had been posters, billboards, and radio ads.

Modern technology just made everything more... flashy.

Lucifer watched a group of sinners standing before an electronic shop, TVs stacked up in the window. Each TV was showing the same thing: an advertisement for the latest cell phone. He was a little surprised he still cared enough to be sickened as Vox straight up hypnotized the viewers into buying the phone. He shook his head in disgust a they passed group turned mob making a mad dash into the store. "Quite the salesman, Vox is," Lucifer commented, not trying to hide his judgmental tone.

Alastor snorted. He glanced at the group scampering out with their new cell phones as he drawled, "Vox has always had a... persuasive sales pitch."

It was Lucifer's turn to snort as they passed another poster of Vox, this time just the overlord and his VoxTech logo. His ever present slogan, Trust Us, curved around the logo. "You mean he hypnotizes people into doing what he wants." It was good to know in advance. No one had ever tried to hypnotize the Devil himself before and he wasn't keen to find out if it was possible.

"Hm," Alastor hummed in agreement. "Just so."

V Tower was easy to spot, even with all the noise going on in the background. The number of surveillance cameras also began to increase the closer they got to the trio's headquarters. Lucifer eyed one as it followed their trek down the street. "So much for keeping our arrival a surprise."

The redhead smirked, obviously pleased about something. Sing song, he assured, "I wouldn't be too sure about that."

The blonde sighed. He was walking right into it, he knew he was. He was going to do it anyway, because damn his curiosity. "Oh?"

Alastor twirled his staff around his fingers like a baton. "All the cameras we've passed so far have been laughably easy to take out." With a practiced hand, he caught the staff, it's tip pointing at the offending camera. As they passed it, the little button on the side of it blinked from green to red. "Vox isn't paying attention to his little toys. Dear me, he must be away from his surveillance room."

Lucifer squinted at the camera dubiously. "You can tell we're not being watched, by, what? The camera not coming back on?"

Alastor laughed, short and cutting. "Oh, it's more than lack of interaction." He leaned in close, as if he were parting with a juicy secret. "I can tell when Vox is watching." His smile was sharp and cruel and said everything about how pathetic he found the overlord in question. "His attention has a certain... desperation to it."

Lucifer wasn't certain which part of all of that to focus on first: the fact that apparently Vox had flat out stalked Alastor to the point Alastor knew when he was being watched or the fact that Alastor clearly found the whole thing hilarious.

Father, these sinner could be fucked up sometimes.

Lucifer grinned, unable to pass up the opportunity he'd just been handed to needle the deer demon. "Didn't do much about the camera that recorded the fight."

Alastor's expression soured around the edges. His ears flattened as he resumed his previous position, snide as he pointed out, "Yes, well, I was a bit distracted by doing all the work. You should try joining in next time."

Alastor hadn't let him get involved in any of the attacks, insistent that he had everything covered, and they both knew it. Lucifer had let him because he always half hoped someone would kill the asshole.

Lucifer let the conversation drop with little more than a roll of his eyes, his mind drifting as he processed this new information. If Alastor could indeed tell when Vox was watching (which, creepy) and had been surprised by one of the attacks being filmed, one could infer that Vox was keeping the hotel under a certain level of constant surveillance.

After returning from their day out, he had hauled himself up in his room as he scoured the news for mention of any attacks. Had tracked down the news reports Rosie had mentioned. There had only been a number written reports and many more reposted written reports, with a single video dedicated to the subject. The video itself contained footage from the first attack, despite the news articles having all been posted fairly recently. Judging from the general comments under the articles and the video, few people were interested in the hotel itself beyond wanting to know if it still stood or not.

They had been lucky the fight had forced the drone to retreat or risk being destroyed. Distance had rendered the video quality poor enough his bleeding hand wasn't visible for all of Hell to see. Everyone already knew angels could be harmed, killed even. It wouldn't do for anyone to get it into their pretty little heads that angel weapons might work on him or Charlie, however.

(Lucifer tried not to think about the main image he had seen, again and again, in those news articles. Tried not to think about how reverent Alastor had looked like as he reached his hand out to the Devil, as if he were the only God the sinner would ever be able to touch. The framing of the image had made it appear like it was something so different than it had really been.)

Light pressure on his shoulder drew him out of his thoughts. Out of the corner of his view, he caught Alastor withdrawing the hand he'd used to get his attention. It was a good thing he had, as it took a second for the sensor above the door to register their presence and trigger the door to open. He could only imagine what the media would have thought if a camera had caught Lucifer running right into the front doors of V Tower while lost in thought.

They stepped through the doors into a lobby themed in oranges and reds with purple accents. Hearts were definitely a motif, accenting arches and their support columns. Purple lanterns dotted every other column, more decoration than function. Lucifer took in the additional advertisements, some on the walls, some on a-frames. A large, flat screen tv displayed the VoxTek logo, but there was nothing currently playing on it.

There were a number of employees dotted around the lobby. A sheep sinner carrying a precarious stack of tablets raced off in one direction, while a horned rabbit sinner ran in another direction with an armful of clothing. A trio of sinners loitered off to the side, whispering back in forth in a frantic, hushed argument about what sounded like bottom lines and stocks. Near the back of the lobby, a blue and yellow sinner shouted about "messy actors" and "shitty wardrobes" as he frantically slammed his finger into the up button of the elevator.

At the center of the lobby, themed similar to the surrounding columns, was a welcome desk, currently being run by a white haired, fuchsia skinned sinner. Her tiny bat wings fluttered and drooped as she fielded calls. Distracted as she was, she failed to notice anyone had entered the lobby until Alastor and Lucifer had already reached the desk.

"One moment, please," she said to them, showing that she had at least noticed they were there. "Now where did Velvette say she wanted her calls sent to today...?" She bit her lip, finger hovering over one of a quite frankly insane number of optional extensions. Her eyes darted back and forth between two of them, before she shrugged and for all intents and purposes flat out guessed which one to send the line to. "Thank you for waiting," she said in a practiced, albeit polite monotone. "How may I... help..." She trailed off as she finally laid eyes on who had walked into the lobby, eyes going wide. She gaped as she recognized Lucifer but went completely blank as she took in Alastor's presence. The blonde was fairly certain that if he could read minds there wouldn't have been a single thought going through her head at that moment.

Lucifer fixed an equally practiced polite smile on his face. "Excuse me, miss," he began, only to pause when she failed to regain her senses, apparently still too flabbergasted by his companion. Brow twitching, he rapped his knuckles sharply upon the marble surface of the desk.

The noise seemed to do the trick, the sinner snapping out of her trance to jerk her head around. "Yes! Um." She swallowed, casting one last nervous glance at the Radio Demon. Between looking at Alastor and looking back at Lucifer, he could see her clawing her professional mask back on with the kind of experience that came from needing to remain calm when one's life was on the line. "How may I help you, sirs?" Her voice didn't even shake a little.

Noting the reaction and shelving the topic for later, Lucifer said, "Please let Vox know we are here to speak with him."

The sinner blinked, disbelief clear as day on her face despite her best efforts not to show it. "You..." Lucifer had the distinct impression the 'you' here was Alastor, even if she wasn't looking directly at him. "Wish to speak with... Vox?" Her tone suggested that had she not been speaking with Lucifer Morningstar, the literal king of Hell, she might have asked him if he was smoking something.

The noise, or lack there of, reached his ears. The general hustle and bustle of when they had entered had completely died down to be replaced by whispers and murmurs. Even without turning, he could feel all eyes on them. Lucifer glanced at Alastor, whose Cheshire Cat grin suggested he was internally laughing at all the fuss his being here was causing. His ears flicked to and fro as he followed different conversations.

Smile fixed in place, he affirmed, "Yup!" He waggled his fingers in the direction of her phone. "Now, please."

The receptionist stared off into the middle distance, the same blank look in her eyes he'd seen on soldier's who'd died at war. In the fatalistic tone of someone who didn't expect to have a job (or possibly be alive) in the morning, she said, "Whelp, this job sucked anyway."

Someone, a little too loudly, stage whispered, "Oh, I would not want to be in her shoes, right now."

Without turning, the receptionist flipped the person off with one hand while picking up the phone with the other. She pressed a seemingly random button as she put the receiver to her ear, a down right manic smile crossed her face.

Lucifer (and likely everyone in the lobby, as well) could tell the instant the phone was answered on the other end. A voice that matched the one's he'd heard in the advertisements bellowed, "WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT INTERUPTING MY MEETINGS?"

Taking advantage of the fact that it sounded like Vox was a sinner who needed to breathe on occasion, the woman said, voice picture perfect cheerful, "The King of Hell and the Radio Demon are here to see you, sir."

A very long, audible pause, both on the phone and from the lobby around them. Then, "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN ALASTOR'S HERE??"

Lucifer raised an eyebrow at the redhead, incredulous. Seriously? What kind of history did these two have that Alastor showing up at V Tower was causing this kind of fuss? It was almost enough to make him forget he had been totally overlooked in that last statement.

Around them, every camera in the lobby suddenly came to life, zeroing in on them. Lucifer could tell by their synchronous motion, someone was likely watching them. Alastor's whole posture changed as he turned on one of the cameras, head tilted just so and smile lazy as he waved at it.

As one, those very same cameras began to sizzle and pop as they were all taken out.

Lucifer noted the redhead looked far too pleased with himself for that to have been anything other than deliberate. He knew Alastor hated being recorded, but that was just petty. Turning his attention to the receptionist, it was only because of his heightened sense of hearing that he was able to hear Vox, voice considerably more in control and at a much more reasonable volume, telling her to send them down.

"At once, sir." She set the phone down at leisure, as if she hadn't just had her eardrums tested by her boss shouting in them. Still looking at something only she could see, she said, "Vox will see you now." She pointed behind her to a set of elevators. "Please use the elevator on the right, as this is the only elevator with access to Vox's personal office." Placing her hands on the desk in a deceptively casual way, she finished, "Please have a hellish rest of your day."

"You, too," Lucifer said on reflex. He watched her as they made their way around the desk, throwing glances over his shoulder after they'd passed it. Under his breath, he asked of Alastor, "Think the hotel needs a receptionist?"

They had a front desk, didn't they? And a land line? Maybe? There was no mail service in Hell and Alastor had to get communications somehow, seeing as he refused to touch anything more modern than a radio. He'd check on it when he got back.

"Ha!" Alastor side eyed him. "Come now, your Majesty, you don't want poor Husker to be out of a job, do you?"

Lucifer belatedly remembered that apparently Husk doubled as not just their bartender, but also as their receptionist. He guffawed. One the one hand, Husk was indeed an great bartender, even willing to be a patient ear for one's troubles, if he tolerated them. He was certainly an exceptional judge of someone's character. On the other, was he a good receptionist? No offense meant to the avian feline in question, but, not in the slightest.

Lucifer added the mental note to check in on the receptionist later to his growing list of things to do.

The elevator opened without them pressing any buttons, suggesting that Vox, the creep, had other ways of keeping tabs on them. Lucifer and Alastor stepped in, the former not thrilled with how tiny the elevator was. There was just enough room for the both of them to stand side by side with little to spare. Insult to injury, the most obnoxious elevator music he had ever had the displeasure to have inflicted on him played over head. There were no buttons to chose from, but there seemed to be none needed as the elevator began its decent on it's own.

Lucifer reiterated: what a creep.

More to fill the silence and distract himself from the growing need to destroy the speaker putting out that horrible noise, he asked, "You ever been here before?"

In the same way most people would say, 'I'd rather die, thanks,' Alastor scoffed. "Absolutely not! I'd never inflict such poor company on myself willingly." Still, it wasn't hard to notice the little ways Alastor was on high alert, very much aware of the fact that he had walked willingly into enemy territory. His ego didn't allow him to worry, but it still paid to be alert to potential surprises.

Thankfully, the elevator didn't take long before reaching its destination. This new room was vast, with a color scheme nothing like the lobby's. Where the lobby was warm shades of orange, red and purple, this room was all cool shades of blue, red, white. The room was dark, only illuminates by dozens upon dozens of screens, most glowing with white light, a handful with red light. Red light filtered up from what appeared to be a deep pit surrounding a bridge-like walkway. Attached at the end was a round platform and attached to the platform was a seat surrounded by even more monitors.

This wasn't an office. This was a surveillance room.

Walking down the walkway was none other than the founder of VoxTek, Vox himself, striding along with all the confidence of someone who was at the top of their industry and knew it. His smile was wide and Lucifer immediately pegged it as the fake kind he usually saw on car salesmen. "Your Highness! Welcome!" Vox greeted. When he was close enough, he offered his hand out for a handshake.

Lucifer eyed it, just long enough to make it look like he wasn't going to take it. He didn't expect anyone to actually bow to him in greeting, but something about this guy left him half tempted to push for it now. Taking the hand, he allowed Vox to shake it to be polite.

When it came time to greet Alastor, the TV demon merely gritted his teeth and said, voice dripping with venom, "Alastor."

Alastor didn't appear bothered in the least by the rude greeting. Matching vitriol with amusement, he merely said, "Vox."

Lucifer looked from Vox, to Alastor, and then back to Vox. Man, he was so sorry he hadn't asked for more details on these two before they'd gotten here. Predicting this could go on a while if they were left to their own devises, Lucifer pointedly cleared his throat.

Vox's smile smoothed out, salesman mask back on place. "Yes, of course. Now, your highness," the sinner held out his hand towards the bridge, indicating he'd like them to come into his "office" proper. Lucifer didn't fail to notice there was only one seat down that way and it was meant for Vox. "May I call you Lucifer? Lucifer--"

Oh, absolutely not. They were going to have to nip that in the bud. Even Alastor, who had somehow become his rival for his place in his daughter's life and literally lived down the hall from him, was smart enough not to call him by name.

"The word you're looking for is 'Majesty'."

Vox paused, body tensing. The fallen angel got the impression he wasn't used to being interrupted. "Excuse me?"

Lucifer effected a bored stance, one hand settled on his cane as he explained, deliberately just this side of hostile, "Your Highness is how you would address my daughter." He looked Vox dead in the eye, making it pointedly clear he was deadly serious and there was going to be none of this BS about who was calling the shots. "Your Majesty is how you address your king."

Vox interestingly grew more calm in the face of his king's ire. "Of course, your Majesty," he said, immediately correcting course. He offered they move the conversation to the platform again. This time, Lucifer nodded. He followed as Vox lead the way, noting how the TV demon never quite turned his back on them, seemingly uneasy having Alastor at his back, even this deep into what was his own territory.

Lucifer took the time spent crossing the bridge to exam the pit around them. While the red light obscured the bottom itself, he was able to make out what appeared to be a very large tank behind equally large glass walls. Swimming around without a care in the world were what appeared to be several glowing sharks. He followed one as it made its way from one side of the pit to the other, able to sense there was nothing natural in their design. These creatures may have appeared to be alive, but they were all circuits and wires, through and through.

When they reached the platform, Vox showed sense by not going for his chair. He did stop in the center of the circle, a subtle attempt to regain some control of the situation. "Now, your Majesty," he began, just sincere enough it was impossible to tell if it was fake or not. "Please, tell me how I and VoxTek can be of assistance today."

Lucifer watched him. Watched the way his face was turned to Lucifer, but his eyes kept ticking to Alastor. Noted the way his body was tilted ever so slightly in the redhead's direction, as if drawn by a magnet he couldn't resist. Vox may have been putting on a show of talking to Lucifer, but he very much only had eyes for Alastor.

Someone was obsessed.

Someone was obsessed really badly.

Something that felt suspiciously like possessiveness reared its head deep within his chest. Lucifer had no more of a claim on Alastor than Vox did, but Alastor had chosen to live under his roof and was his daughter's hotelier. Finicky to the last, with all the loyalty of a feral, stray cat, Alastor was theirs.

Smile all teeth, eyes gold on red, Lucifer raised his free hand until they were right under where Vox's nose would be if he had one. He snapped his fingers, once, twice, sharply.

Vox nearly went cross-eyed, as he zeroed in on the offending digits, leaning slightly back.

"I know Alastor is very eye catching," Lucifer drawled, voice deepening as he let his displeasure seep in. "But you are talking to me. Do you understand?"

The TV demon had the grace to raise his hands, not necessarily in surrender, but certainly in a pacifying manner. It was easy to see him cycling through possible responses, as he fished for the one that would deescalate the situation the fastest. "I apologize, you Majesty, for any offense," he settled on, tone so polite it reeked of falseness.

Lucifer let him have it because it seemed Vox was finally cottoning on to the fact that there was a larger predator in the room then either of the two sinners. The reluctant king withdrew a step, pleased when Vox's eyes followed him, with not a single glance at Alastor. Now that he had the CEO's full attention, he decided it was time to get this show on the road. "I have a message for everyone in the Pride Ring. I've noticed how many people have a TV or a cellphone. I've also noticed VoxTek's reach." Lucifer said this last part only because it was true. However they had managed it, VoxTek has even managed to make it's way into the other rings.

For the first time since they'd arrived, Vox's smile actually appeared real. It put into stark light how fake the one he had been wearing up until this moment had been. "We would be thrilled to feature you on one of our television shows, your Majesty." He was smart enough not to look at Alastor, although it was obvious the next part was directed towards him. "Our viewership ratings have been going through the roof over the last few years. Statistics show that almost every household in the Pentagram City has a TV these days."

It was a good sales pitch. It might even have been true. The hotel had even had a TV, although Lucifer had explicitly forbidden anyone from bringing one into the palace, the exception being the live-in servants' personal quarters. Regardless, Vox hadn't said that to try and sale anyone on anything, he'd said it to rub it in Alastor's face that Lucifer had chosen to pass his message along over Vox's medium, instead of Alastor's.

Although they hadn't discussed it ahead of time, Lucifer found himself saying, in all the casualness of it having been a given, "If Alastor wishes to broadcast the message simultaneously over radio for our viewers who prefer the medium, he's more than welcome to do so, but we're not here to discuss that." He was fairly certain, even without turning around, that Alastor hadn't given it away that this was news to him.

The idea was reinforced by the way that Vox's eye twitched before he could regain control over it. "Yes, of course we want it to reach all of the intended audiences." Hands coming to rest at the small of his back, the TV demon attempted to steer them back on course. "Now, about the content of the message."

Lucifer tilted his head to the side. "Does it matter what the content is? Unless you prefer I go somewhere else to do this." Something that was also true. Mammon may lack any talent of his own, but he knew a cash grab when he saw one. He jumped onto the bandwagon that was television sets, TV shows, and moving advertisements as soon as the technology had hit Hell. The only reason none of his products where seen in the Pride Ring was because Lucifer limited his exposure to sinners were ever he could. If he gave him the green light, Mammon would topple VoxTek within a matter of months, if not less.

Vox paused, sensing he was in troubled waters, but not quite sure from which direction. "No, no. We here at VoxTek simply prefer to make sure that all the content we put out is content we stand by--"

Lucifer leaned in. If his tail were out, it would have been thrashing. "Are you saying your king could say anything VoxTek wouldn't support?"

Vox's screen left eye widened ever so slightly, the sclera going from a solid red, to more hypnotic red and black. It was there and gone in the blink of his eyes. His voice sounded glitchy as he gritted out a, "No."

"May I suggest something, your Majesty?"

Lucifer broke off what was quickly becoming a staring match with Vox to turn his attention to Alastor. The redheaded sinner had been standing behind him, seemingly content to watch the drama unfold from the side as Lucifer took the lead. Considering their rivalry, Lucifer was a little hesitant to allow Alastor to enter the fray, lest he potentially make things worse. However, he did appreciate the fact that these two knew each other better than he knew either of them.

Giving away the floor, at least for now, Lucifer gave a single short nod, for him to proceed.

Alastor stepped up until they were side by side.

Unable to resist now that the redhead had center stage, Vox immediately shifted to face him, Lucifer all but forgotten. He frowned, almost all pretenses of being a businessman all but thrown out the window. "What are you doing here, Alastor?" He snipped at the redhead. "I know you'll take any opportunity to move up in Hell, but I didn't take you as a kiss ass."

Alastor smiled at him, as if he were a short sighted child. "We hadn't gotten to that part, have we?" He gave his staff a little spin, noting the way Vox's eyes narrowed as he took in it's repaired state. "His Majesty asked me to stand with him as he gave his address."

Vox snorted, doubtful. "You'd never agree to appearing on screen." He actually started to laugh at the idea, until he realized Alastor was completely serious. "Wait, you said yes?" Gaping, he turned on Lucifer, seeming in his shock to forget who he was talking to. "What the hell did you do to get him to agree to show up on TV?" He glared back and forth between then, baring his teeth as he asked, "What, are you two fucking or something?"

Lucifer narrowed his eyes, lip curling back. In one fell swoop, Vox had just reduced himself to less than scum on the bottom of his boots. The only reason they were continuing this conversation was because he didn't feel like dragging Valentino down to the Greed Ring. "Maybe you just don't know how to speak his language," he snipped back, mouth moving before he could think about what he was saying or how much it gave away.

Before Vox could think too deeply on it, the redhead cleared his throat. For all that he preferred to be an unseen voice on the radio, Alastor did how to play his audience in person. "Let me sweeten the deal," he said, his hand running down the pole of his staff, eyeing the TV demon as he did so. "If you agree to broadcast our King's message, I'll do that one little thing you wanted me to do when you asked me to join you." He pointed the microphone end at Vox, the tip perilously close to his screen. "From when you agree to the end of the broadcast."

Vox stared at the microphone. Slowly, he raised his eyes until he met Alastor's. Something that looked suspiciously like sadness peaked through his anger, although Lucifer was certain they weren't supposed to see it. "You'd really do that. For him?"

Alastor withdrew his staff, tucking it under his arm. With his free hand, he reached out until a single claw rested under Lucifer's chin. Encouraging him to look up at him, Lucifer let Alastor tilt his head up and around to meet that fond expression on the redhead's face. "As his Majesty said, he knows how to speak my language."

Vox's eyes widened, a dawning expression coming over him. Real horror followed shortly behind it. "Holy shit," he whispered, staggering back. Lucifer tore his gaze away from Alastor's just in time to see him drop into his chair as if his strings had been cut. Dragging a hand down his face, Vox said with absolute certainty, "You actually made a Faustian Bargain."

He said it like this was his worst nightmare came to life.

Beside him, Alastor practically radiated smug triumph. It was all the affirmation he needed to give.

All of the fight hadn't been been cut from Vox just yet. Unhappy as he was with this set back, Vox was already trying to figure out how spin this in his favor. An elbow resting on each arm of his chair, the knuckles of his joined hands pressed to his lips, he countered, "Alright, Alastor does his thing and I'll broadcast whatever you want." His grin took up most of his screen, all pretenses of friendliness dropped. "Give me an hour to prepare the studio for you."

Before Vox could run off, Lucifer placed one last little condition on him. "Vox. Make sure the other Vees are in attendance." At the TV demon's questioning tilt of his head, the blonde merely said, "I wouldn't want anyone to miss my message."

Whatever Vox thought of this was hidden behind his joined hands. Instead of bothering with any of the usual ways out of the room, Vox transformed into a bolt of electricity, disappearing into one of the monitors.

Silence descended over the room. Then, "You two have history."

Alastor snorted. "You know how to use your eyes, your Majesty. I'm impressed."

Lucifer ignored the sarcasm and the insult in favor of observing his companion. The redhead's brows were furrowed with concentration, eyes closed and the very air around him warped to a noticeable degree. To Lucifer, a creature who had existed before physical matter, picking up on the way Alastor was enhancing certain electromagnetic waves around him was child's play. Hoping to kill two birds with one stone - learning more about their shared history while figuring out what the sinner was doing - the little king gave into his curiosity and asked, "What did Vox want you to do?"

Alastor didn't answer for a moment, whatever he was doing taking quite a bit of his concentration. Lucifer patiently waited him out. Several minutes ticked by with nothing by the hum of the monitors and the swimming of the sharks to keep him occupied. Cracking open a single eye a slit, Alastor reached a point in whatever he was doing where he could split his attention. Lucifer noted the pupil of the visible eye was a dial.

"Do you know how the technology in that silly little device in your pocket works?" Alastor asked by way of response.

The only things Lucifer tended to carry on his person were his cane, which was in his hand, and his cellphone, in case Charlie tried to call him (rare that it was). His cellphone, which was indeed in his pocket. Fishing it out, he eyed it. He knew it worked. He knew how to work it. Did he really need to know more? Besides, it wasn't one of VoxTek's cellphones, which made him less wary of it. Confused as to where this was going, he said, "It works, isn't that all that matters?"

"Such a pedestrian response." Alastor hummed, his microphone coming over to point at the little device. "You device works because it's able to transmit data via radio waves." He used his staff to gesture to the room around them, his eye falling shut now that he no longer needed to see to engage in the conversation. "Vox's specialty is electricity. He can interact with anything that uses it."

Lucifer remembered the way the TV demon had disappeared into his monitor, a chill running down his spine as he imagined what all else he could likely interact with.

"Radio waves, on the other hand, are my specialty," Alastor continued. This fit with what Lucifer had observed both in the current moment and back at the radio tower. "Usually I simply use them to connect myself to any radio in Pentagram City, but I can also enhance them." His edges of his smile tightened. There was no strain in his posture, but Lucifer was suspicious they might see hints of it if this carried on too long. "When Vox wanted to introduce wireless technology to Hell, he suggested that we team up. He would create the technology and the demand, and I would enhance his reach." His expression sharpened into a sneer. "I had no interest in being a mere tool in elevating him to the top."

Judging from the short interaction he'd observed, Lucifer was suspicious Vox had wanted much more than just to use Alastor as a tool. Vox had done little to hide the depth of his anger and hatred, and no one reached that level of emotion without having swung in the opposite direction first. Lucifer wondered if Alastor had really turned Vox down because of his own lust for power or if Alastor had seen the way Vox had looked at him and hadn't been interested.

Since that question was more likely to shut down the conversation then receive an answer, resigned himself to never knowing. Either way, he supposed he should be happy that Alastor had turned Vox down. Lucifer didn't want to think about what they could have accomplished if they had somehow found a way to work together.

Instead, he went with, "So, you can interact with anything that receives radio waves, then. Not just radios?"

In response, his cell phone dinged. The screen lit up to the lock screen, showing he had a new text message. Though it should be improbable, there was nothing in the place of a sender's name. Lucifer silently frowned at it, suspicious of who was the sender, but unwilling to open anything he didn't know who it came from.

As if sensing his distrust, Alastor crooned, "Go on. I promise it's not spam."

Lucifer was still wary, but he unlocked his phone. If this was malicious ware, Alastor was getting him a new phone.

The text message was indeed not spam. When he opened it up, there were simply two words:

You suck!

Lucifer glared at the message. "So, what? How would this help Vox?"

Alastor wagged a finger at him. "I'm currently high jacking every TV and cellphone with it's WIFI turned on. 666 News has never been more popular than it is right now." He paused, as if searching for something. "I excluded most of the phones in the hotel, but I do have Angel's."

Lucifer whistled, giving credit where it was due. That was honestly incredible. Terrifying in it's reach, holy shit, but incredible. A thought crossed his mind, an unholy grin slowly spreading across his face as he wondered, "Wait, if I reply to this, will the message go straight to you?"

"Ha!" Alastor shook his head, using his microphone to bop the top of Lucifer's hat. An impressive feat, considering his eyes were still closed. "Sorry, but I'm merely a transmitter and an amplifier. My abilities don't work that way."

Lucifer straightened his hat, half tempted to try anyway, just to see if it were true. Perhaps he would another time.

He was interrupted from any further questions by one of the monitors coming to life over Vox's chair. A moment later, the sinner himself reentered the same way he had left. Vox settled back in his chair, legs crossed and significantly more calm than when he left. "The studio will be ready for you in half an hour." He glanced once at Alastor, who had opened his eyes upon the TV demon's return, before returning back to Lucifer. "Let's relocate there now, shall we?"

Lucifer nodded. Instead of leading them towards the elevator they'd come down in, Vox merely joined them in the center of the platform. It became apparent why when the very middle suddenly began to rise, revealing there was yet more ways in and out of the surveillance room. Once they were back in the lobby, he led them over to elevator on the left, only sticking with them long enough to press the button of the floor with the studio, before pulling back out of it. "I'll meet you up there."

The door closed, once again leaving just the two of them and that horrible elevator music.

Lucifer glanced at Alastor. He still looked fine, but he was definitely putting out a lot of power. Feeling concerned (Alastor had agreed to do this for him) and wary of insulting him, he asked, checking in, "You doing okay, still?"

Alastor's ear twitched, the widening of smile showing he wasn't insulted, but rather amused. "Oh, don't worry your little head, I'll be just fine, your Majesty." Eyes aglow with more than just the power it took to carry out his promise, he added, "But I expect a reward when we return to the Hotel."

Lucifer felt a jolt run up his spine. The chain around his neck didn't manifest, but he could feel it tightening ever so. Alastor was invoking their deal, officially giving him his 12 hour notice. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised, as Alastor had yet to actually invoke the deal since making it with him. Tilting his head so his hat hid his expression from both Alastor and the camera's gaze, Lucifer grumbled, "Should have known you'd do nothing for free."

The doors to the elevator opened, illuminating the redhead's sinister grin. A few sinners had paused to catch a glimpse of them as the doors opened, only to pale at the expression on Alastor's face. They quickly scurried off to carry out their tasks. Lucifer stepped through the doors, taking in the chaos in front of him. Numerous demons were running around, similar to the frantic energy he'd seen in the lobby, everyone getting the studio ready. A stack of papers and angry shouting from a blonde woman in a red dress (what was her name? It started with a K) suggested that something else had been planned for this hour, but had been cancelled due to Lucifer's abrupt interruption.

Lucifer might have felt bad, if it weren't for the fact that he knew without a shadow of a doubt this particular reporter was likely going to find some way to verbally eviscerate him later. He may not have remembered her name, but he did remember her particular brand of cutthroat journalism and the outright nasty things she had said about his daughter in the past. And her casual abuse of her co-reporter.

As if sensing she was being watched, the reporter turned her head a full 180 degrees, her smile down right unhinged and full of promises.

Not for the first time since landing in Hell, Lucifer almost wished he was still capable of creating Holy Water. There were some situations one just needed a spray bottle full of the hard core stuff for.

"Your Majesty," Vox pipped up, appearing from seemingly nowhere. The only reason Lucifer didn't jump was because he was still caught in a glaring match with a literal reporter from Hell. "This way, please."

Lucifer carried on glaring at her, right up until he physically couldn't. "I don't care who you've got sitting with me, I don't want her anywhere near me."

Vox followed his gaze, snorting when he saw who he'd been making a stink eye at. "Oh, no worries." He turned his own glare on Alastor. "I'll be copiloting right along with you."

Lucifer took in the two chairs. If he was sitting in one and Vox in the other, Alastor was going to be left standing. Judging from the gleam in the TV demon's eye, this was on purpose. Vox pulled out the seat on the right, the malicious reporter's coworker's usual seat, a smile so fake one would have to be blind to think it sincere spread across his screen. "Just a few more finishing touches, and then we'll be ready to begin." He turned on his heel and disappeared back into the bowels of the studio.

Lucifer blinked down at the seat. He could already feel the sheer number of eyes from the people in the studio, watching and waiting to see what he was going to do next. This was the first time almost every single one of them had ever seen him in person. He already hated everything about this. It was more than enough to make him want to retreat back to his room at the hotel and not come out for the rest of the month.

A gentle brush, an almost tickle, against the back of his neck, the feeling almost shockingly intimate, startled him. He inhaled sharply, not having noticed that he had stopped breathing. Instinctively, he turned his back on the growing crowd, his hand coming up to half way, before he aborted the motion. Turning to face him, Lucifer noted that Alastor appeared to have not done anything, standing in that default pose he favored. The only reason Lucifer could tell it had been him that touched him was from the way the redhead was watching him.

"Smile, your Majesty," Alastor murmured, voice pitched low and soothing. "The hardest part is almost over. I'll be with you the whole time."

How out of sorts had he been that even the Radio Demon was taking pity on him? That the reassurance was a comfort?

Lucifer breathed in slowly through his nose, breathing out even slower through his mouth. His racing heart began to calm, as he reminded himself that he had taken on far more terrifying beings than a room full of nosey sinners. This was all for Charlie and the safety of her dream, and for that, he could handle anything.

He dropped into the offered chair, the anticipation of a battle falling over his shoulders like a weathered cape.

A door opened off to the side, one that he hadn't seen anyone coming and going through. Stepping through were none other than Valentino and Velvette themselves. Velvette was typing away on her phone, muttering about an interruption to her photo shoot.

Valentino paused as he caught sight of Lucifer and Alastor. "Oh! If it isn't papito, himself!" The grin spreading across his face and choice of wording caused the blonde's skin to crawl. Sauntering over, Valentino nearly draped himself over desk, bringing his and Lucifer's faces far too close together. "You wouldn't want to hang around after this little show for some one on one time, now would you, mi pequeño rey?"

Lucifer had barely managed to do more than lean back in his chair, trying to escape the heavy stench of smoke and hard drugs that hung around the Overlord like a second skin, when a weigh settled heavily on his shoulder. He glanced up, finding that Alastor had stepped up beside him, hand placed in such a way that it wrapped possessively around shoulder and was beginning to snake around the back of his neck.

"Valentino." Alastor's filter was grating, a warning despite his pleasant smile.

Valentino lazily blew out a thin pink, heart shaped mouth of smoke. It hit Alastor in the face. His smile was filthy as he gave the deer demon a once over. "Don't be jealous, venado, my offer is still open to you, too."

The static glitch of a record screeching. It wasn't hard to pick out Alastor's distaste with everything from the offer to the Overlord himself. "Pass," he quipped back, shotting down the offer with extreme prejudice.

The pimp shrugged, viewing it as his loss. He turned his attention back to his original target. "What do you say, papito? We could--."

"Val." Vox's voice was barely recognizable through whatever filter he was using, the noise causing Lucifer to flinch as it grated at his ears.

Valentino pouted, somehow making it look aggressive. "Vox, querido, what have I said about using that tone with me?" He twisted around in a way that accented his figure. "Don't be upset because the Radio Demon's already turned you down."

"The show is about to start, Val," Vox pointed out evenly and sternly, despite the dig. Lucifer was beginning to pick up that when it was anyone other than Alastor, the TV demon might actually be able to keep a cool head. "How do you think it will look if we don't start on time?"

Valentino's pout to edge in the direction of a normal pout. "Spoil sport." He leaned back until he was facing Lucifer. He reached out, running a single finger along the underside of the blonde's chin. "Call me if you change your mind." Offer made, he thankfully, finally got off the desk and made his way back over to Velvette.

Lucifer was going to take a long, hot shower when he got back to the hotel. With acid. Regrow some nice, new skin that Valentino had never touched.

Alastor pulled him from his thoughts, giving the back of his neck a squeeze. Lucifer was almost sad for the loss of contact when he pulled his hand away so he could resume his prior position.

From where he stood, Vox watched the two of them, his expression unreadable. Several minutely later, the blue and black themed sinner dropped into his own seat, calling out to the cameraman as he did so. "How's the camera holding up?"

The cameraman peaked at Alastor, indicating this question was because of the redhead's tendency to take out anything with a camera around him. The sinner studied his monitor and then gave a thumbs up.

Vox clicked his tongue. "So," he gripped, irritation heavy in his voice. "You can be recorded without destroying my electronics."

Lucifer couldn't see Alastor from where he was standing almost directly behind him, could only hear the tapping on his fingers on his microphone. His taunt was malicious as he came back with, "We both know I can be photographed ...when I want to be."

The TV demon grimaced, the hit landing where it obviously hurt. He had little time to recover, as the cameraman began his countdown. As he hit zero, Vox's smile was back in place, just a lot less real.

"Top of the hour, folks!" Vox's voice was loud and boisterous, the rhythm and pace almost break neck. "Breaking news: in a rare interview, we're joined by none other than the King of Hell and the Devil himself, Lucifer Morningstar!" Vox leaned over, holding a hand out to indicate the fallen angel sitting beside him. "Please, give your people a little wave, your Majesty."

Lucifer resisted the urge to flip him off. Gave the camera a little wave with little enthusiasm.

Vox carried on, unphased, "Equally rare and unlikely to never happen again, fellow sinners, we also have radio talk show host, the Radio Demon himself, Alastor!"

Alastor didn't wave. He grinned straight into the camera, as if staring into the very souls of the views, eyes and teeth alight as reality itself threatened to warp around him.

The camera gave an alarming whine. The cameraman gave an alarmed cry as it threatened to give out.

Point made, Alastor seemed to remember he was supposed to be behaving. The camera stopped whining as reality returned to normal.

Vox's eye twitched. Smile strained along with his chipper tone, he said, "Your Majesty, I assume your being here is because of the attacks on the hotel your daughter is running?"

Lucifer gave him his own chipper smile. "You mean the attacks you only know about because of your voyeuristic habits?"

Vox laughed, a touch nervously. "You've clearly never dealt with the paparazzi, sire. One has to cross a few boundaries if they want to get the exclusive first."

Was that what he was going with?

Either blind to it or ignoring it, Vox glossed over Lucifer's offense, moving on to, "Please, tell us, do you have any idea who's behind the attacks? We're dying to know."

Lucifer highly doubted that. Or at least, doubted Vox cared. It was more likely he wanted the hotel to fail or get taken out, judging from his poorly concealed eagerness. He leaned his elbow onto the table, chin resting on his palm. "I'm not here to waste my time nor the listeners' with an interview." He took delight in watching Vox falter for the first time since the interrogation began. Over his shoulder, he called sweetly, "Alastor?"

Alastor's voice was just sweet and still more bloodthirsty. "Yes, sire?"

It was a show of how in tune Vox was with Alastor's moods that the TV demon was already beginning to sweat. He was doing a good job of hiding it, Lucifer would give him that. It was a pity he was sitting beside someone who could see right through him, when he chose to make the effort. Lucifer rose from his chair, the blue and black sinner nearly taking a screen full of wings as they manifested. "Be a doll and make certain Vox doesn't get any ideas. Like interfering."

"With pleasure." Alastor's words were nearly lost to his filter. The air around them crackled, the shadows in the corners of the room growing unnaturally dark. Vox dropped all pretenses of pretending he wasn't unnerved, leaning back as much to avoid the wings as to distance himself from the redheaded sinner.

Red and white wings fluttered, giving Lucifer the lift to make stepping up onto the desk look effortless. Papers flew everywhere and a few people made startled noises as they were hit with a few errant pages. His wings fanned out, allowing him to gracefully fall into a seated potion on the other side of the desk. He leaned to the side, placing his weight on the hand braced on the desk, head rolling until he was facing the other two Vees. "Velvette, if you value your life just sit there and look pretty for a bit."

Velvette narrowed her eyes to slits at him. "What the hell?"

Valentino waited to see what advice he had for him. When he received none, the pimp blew out a lung full of pink smoke. His expression turned sultry. "Nothing for me, pequeño rey?"

Lucifer didn't respond, not wanting to give the game away too soon. Relaxing his control over his form, he allowed the full extent of his corrupted, angelic form to appear on full display for all of the viewers to see. Far too many eyes focused in on not just the camera, but the cameraman and the sinners directly around him. Each of them instinctively shied away, hindbrains warning them they were out in the open and too exposed. Vox attempted to push his chair back, the area around the desk suddenly a little too hot, only to be stopped by the end of Alastor's strategically placed staff locking the chair in place.

Lucifer rolled his head back around, until he could easily stare into the camera. "Now, to clear up a few things: I could care less about sinner politics." He grinned in that way he knew looked off, even for a creature of Hell, leaning into the fact that he wasn't human and had never been human. "How you decide to throw away the one good thing you stupid, stupid little humans have going for you is up to you." His pupils were lost in a red glow as his temper spiked, the flame of hellfire blazing between his horns. " What I do take issue with is someone sending hitman to threaten my daughter over something as silly as potential lost contracts."

He slid off the desk, the sinners in front of him all collectively taking a step back. Only the cameraman stayed in place, too frozen to move. "Perhaps it's my fault, I've been away a while." He held out a hand, fingers searching until he found the particular contract he was looking for. "Perhaps it's yours for never reading the fine print." His hand closed around his desired target, a chain made of pink, translucent smoke, deceptively fragile, coming into being. One end led out the doors. The other end led off to the side, leading over to a certain Overlord.

Valentino's and Angel's contract.

The pimp held up his wrist, confusion evident on his face. "The fuck?"

Lucifer's grin was all teeth. He wrapped his hand around and around the chain until he had a nice, solid grip on it. Without warning, he viciously yanked on the chain.

Valentino was pulled so hard, his shoulder nearly popped out of its socket. The pimp yowled like a cat dropped into pool as he was sent crashing to the floor. Lucifer didn't give him the chance to recover, reeling him in like a particularly resistant fish, the Overlord shouting and cursing as he was dragged across the floor. The Devil gave no quarter, even when he had him where he wanted him, pressing his heel into Valentino's back and twisting moth's arm until it was just short breaking.

"You see," Lucifer carried on, tone bored and voice raised over the slew of insults being thrown his way, "There's this little clause in your contracts that say I have the final say in every single one of them."

"You little shit!" Valentino hissed, twisting in a way that should be impossible for someone who purportedly had a spine. "We had nothing to do with the attacks on that shithole your hija is running."

Lucifer pulled on the chain until he could hear the shoulder pop. The sinner's claws dug into the ground beneath him, glare baleful. "Maybe," Lucifer said, almost nonchalant. "But you're the lowest kind of sinner: the kind that profits on selling human flesh and locks people into contracts so they can never escape."

The moth demon snarled, composure gone. "Every one of those whores came to me willingly. I made them stars. They would be nothing without me."

The Devil peered down at him, unmerciful. All of Valentino's sins where on display for him to see and judge and he found him wanting. "Nothing gives you the right to abuse another human being."

Lucifer returned his attention to the camera. He wrapped his free hand around another section of the chain, pulling the links tight between his two fists. "Let everyone remember that your little deals mean nothing if I say so."

Without further ado, he pulled almost effortlessly on the chain, Valentino's strength that of a kittens next to his. A link, just off center, gave, pulling apart until it shattered. Each one of the links similarly followed suit, falling from his hand like crystalline shards. They vanished like the smoke they had originally appeared as before they could hit the ground.

Valentino's arm, free of the chain, fell to the floor with a heavy thud.

Lucifer stepped off his back, releasing him. Stepping around the desk this time, he held his hand out to Alastor. The Radio Demon blinked back at him, something delighted behind his gaze.

It looked a little like victory.

He took Lucifer's hand.

"The Hazbin Hotel and every one of its residents are under my protection," Lucifer declared into the stunned silence, voice projected loud and unearthly, raising the hair on ever sinner's head, save the one in front of him. He looked upon each of the sinners in the room, gaze coming to rest on the camera lens. "I will not have mercy upon anyone looking to cause my daughter anymore trouble."

To his right, a portal appeared. Without another word, he stepped through it, pulling Alastor along with him.

As everyone continued to stare, the portal vanished and they were gone.

tbc

Translations:

-Papito: Little daddy

-Mi pequeño rey: My little king

-Venado: Deer or venison. I chose this word as a way for Valentino to make a dig at the fact that Alastor's demon form is a type of food source.

-Querido: Darling, used if you love or like someone. Chosen as a shoutout to the affair they're clearly having.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

thistle, part one

a/n: I'm posting the next part in a few days, so you won't have to wait too long to find out what happens next ♡

summary: “A title that’s been true since the moment I was born, but there are also a few others that are just as real. I am a son, I am a brother, I am a soldier. I am still the exact same person you spoke to only yesterday. I haven’t changed one bit, so please don’t act like I have. Please, at least call me James.”

warnings: James Potter x reader, royal au, prince!James, servant!reader (lady's maid), forbidden romance, secret relationship, historical au (beginning of the 1920s), references to WW1, surely extremely historically inaccurate but this is just for fun, lovesick!James, weapons, grief, death, smut, kissing, attending a ball, dancing, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, cockwarming, oral

word count: 6148

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series masterlist - next part

Marching up to the bespectacled man exiting the stables, his clothes all ruffled and dirtied from the ride he’d presumably just taken on this drizzly day, “excuse me, sir?” he slowed his trek at the sound of your soft voice, turning his head to look at you in surprise, “do you know the way to the servant's entrance? I seem to be a bit lost.”

“Um, yeah,” he blinked a second, taken aback by your question as he gave you a quick once over, “it’s just down that path,” he pointed towards the east side of the castle, “green door, can’t miss it.”

“Thank you,” you nodded, tightening your grip on your suitcase and began to move in that direction. 

“Are you new here?” he asked swiftly, halting your movements. 

“Kinda,” you said, “I’m the queen mother’s new lady’s maid.”

“Oh,” a genuine smile bloomed on his face, “I didn’t know grand-, I mean, her majesty Delilah was coming for a visit.” 

“Well, I’d imagine you as, I presume, a groundskeeper,” you guessed, squinting your eyes at the helpful stranger in front of you, “isn’t exactly first on the list of people who need to be notified of such things.” 

Choking out a small chuckle, neither confirming nor denying your guess, he simply glanced down at his muddy boots, “yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Looking back over your shoulder at the large castle looming over you, “I’m sorry, but I should really get going. Her majesty likes to freshen up quite a bit after a long trip such as this.” 

“Oh, yeah,” he exhaled, clearly not ready to part ways yet, “you go take care of that, I’ll see you around.”

“See you!” you shouted over your shoulder as you made your way towards the discreet green door. 

“That’s pretty,” a smoky voice from out of nowhere made you jump and promptly stop your soft humming, dropping the small bouquet of wildflowers you had picked but a moment ago. Turning to see who else could be out here in the forest, you spotted the helpful figure from the day before, leaning against a tree.

“Jesus! You gave me a fright!” a hand came up to clutch your chest. 

“Sorry,” he smiled, shifting the bent hunting rifle that rested over his burly forearm. 

“It’s fine, no harm done,” you exhaled slowly, “just need to make my heartbeat understand that as well…”

Watching as you momentarily bent down to pick the dropped flowers off the forest floor, “you out on a walk I presume?” he pushed off the tree and stepped closer.

“Yeah, well,” you rose back up, “the weather finally cleared up, so I thought a bit of fresh air might do me well,” you said, gliding one of your cold hands down into your coat pockets, “plus I’ve heard so much about the grounds here, I wanted to see them for myself.” 

“They are quite something, aren’t they?” he smiled warmly down at you. 

Feeling heat begin to rise in your cheeks from his unwavering glare, you coughed lightly and glanced down at the humble bouquet clutched in your grasp, “and, um, you’re-”

“Hunting,” he filled in before you could manage to finish your guess.

“Oh, am I getting in your way?” worry filled your voice, imagining that bullets could start flying over your head as soon as a bird flew by, “is it safe for me to be out here? I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware-”

“Nah, you’re good,” he waved a reassuring hand, “I split up from the others a while ago and then when I heard you, I wandered even further away from the rest.”

“You followed me?” he noticed your eyes flicker down towards the weapon he was carrying. 

“I-, oh god,” he winced, scrunching his expression up in regret and bowing his head, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I am a stranger to you with a deadly firearm, not a harmless bunny rabbit,” you could literally see the imaginary whip he was punishing himself with, “I’m sorry I scared you, I’ll just go-”

“No!” flew out your lips before you had a chance to think, “It’s fine, you can stay if you want.” 

Gazing into your eyes a moment, he then exhaled, “thank you, miss.” 

“Y/l/n,” you told him, “my name is Y/n Y/l/n.”

“Y/n,” the corners of his lips curled up as he tasted your name on his tongue. 

“And your name?”

“James,” he said, then stressed, “just James.”

James… like the youngest of the two princes? You shouldn’t act too surprised; it was a common enough name after all. 

“Can I ask you something?” he spoke as you wordlessly agreed to go for a stroll together among the birch trees.  

“Sure.”

“How long have you been the queen mother’s lady’s maid? It’s just, I remember her previous one, the one she had before the war, and I feel like I would have noticed when you came along.”

“It’s been about 6 months now…” you answered rather sombrely. 

“You don’t sound pleased about that.”

“No,” you glanced in his direction to underline your statement, “I love the job, don’t get me wrong, it’s just-,” you choked on the bitter fact and opted to say, “it’s complicated.”

“Is it too complicated for a man like me to comprehend?” he offered with a gentle smile. 

Letting a low sigh flow out, you spoke, “that previous one you remember?” he nodded in confirmation, “that was my mom.” You tried to ignore how your bottom lip began to quiver, “she had me out of wedlock and later in her life, so not many people knew about me. But her majesty Delilah did. She’d always been very fond of my mother, so she let me grow up there at Cudworth palace. She-,” you let out a shaky breath, still finding it difficult to vocalize, “she became ill a few years back, so her majesty made the decision to let me inherit the position. Made sure I was set up for a good life, I guess… My mother trained me for as long as she could till I was nothing short of flawless. It’s been 6 months… 6 months with the job and 6 months without her…”

“Yes, I think the sapphires will do quite nicely for tonight,” Delilah purred as her weathered fingers brushed over the jewellery spread out in a presentational fashion on the vanity she sat at. 

Wrapping a silver lock around your finger, you carefully pinned the last piece in place, securing her intricate updo. Glancing at the finished product in the reflection, you then agreed, “sapphire it is,” plucking the precious stones off the doily-clad table and gently adorning her earlobes with them. 

“Beautiful work, dear,” Delilah gave your hand a small pat as you secured the last earring, momentarily catching your eye in the mirror. 

The dragon lady. That’s what people called her. Though, through all of your life, the intimidating queen mother had been nothing but kind to you. It was clear that she had a soft spot for you, though you’d never dare to confirm that suspicion.

“Thank you, madam,” a soft smile quickly warmed up your features as you checked her hair one last time, “I hear the prime minister will be attending dinner tonight.”

“Oh, well, I guess I couldn’t avoid him forever. Hopefully, they won’t seat him beside me this time, it was so awfully boring last time, kept on talking about cricket.” 

“Could always be sneaky and pretend that you can’t hear him,” you suggested with a sly grin. 

“Wouldn’t that be something,” her crow's feet framed eyes glinted with a youthful mischievous glow. 

Your shared giggle was interrupted as the door to her champers creaked open. Turning to look, you saw none than your helpful stranger.

“Grandma,” James simply sauntered in as if he owned the place, “I was wondering if you could-,” both his words and his brisk pace fell short as he spotted you, “oh, hi,” your presents promptly brought a fluttering smile to his lips. 

Just as you were about to speak up, your eyes wide enough to burst at his audacity, Delilah bellowed, “good lord, James, it’s been enough time, you really must shred that army brashness and start entering a room the way you were raised to. This is not a war room, it’s the castle’s peacock suite!”

“Right,” he chuckled lightly, his eyes never staying on his grandmother for long before flickering back to you, “sorry granny.”

Why was the groundskeeper referring to the queen mother his grandmother? It couldn’t be because-

“Y/n,” Delilah turned in her comfortable chair, “I don’t think you’ve been acquainted. This is my dear James,” she presented with an outstretched arm, “the youngest of my two grandsons.”

Swiftly averting your flabbergasted gaze, you curtsied timidly and gasped, “your highness,” your terrified eyes darting across the Persian rug. 

You’d only gotten to know the prince’s likeness through old paintings of him as a child. The battle-scared man standing before you now looked nothing like the bespeckled young royal captured in the portrait you’d passed countless times before. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you miss,” he smiled warmly, bowing his head slightly at you in return. 

“Now,” Delilah reached for her cane and slowly pushed herself up to her feet, “what was it you needed?” 

“Yeah, um,” he thought for a second, seeming awfully distracted, “it was-… I’m sorry, I completely forgot what it was.”

“Well, maybe you’ll recall during dinner, my boy,” she slowly moved towards the door, “shall we go down?”

“You go ahead,” James gesticulated, “I just need Y/n to send a message down to the kitchen for me. We wouldn’t want them to hold back on the wine now that prime minister Ferrell is joining us.”

“Oh, bless you,” Delilah grinned before disappearing out of the room, “that’s why you’re my favourite.” 

Closing the heavy door behind the former monarch, James gently grabbed you by the elbow and guided you further into the room. Preparing yourself for the worst, you immediately promised, “I’ll go relay the message at once,” your head still bowed, not daring to look him in the eye. 

“You don’t really have to, I already sent word down an hour ago. I simply said that to get a moment alone with you,” he lowered himself in an effort to catch your cautious gaze, “Y/n,” breathing out your name as if it weighed a ton, “would you please look at me?”

Only momentarily flickering your eyes up to meet his, you blurted out, “forgive me, your majesty, I swear I didn’t know,” your heartbeat was so strong you could hear it pounding in your ears, “I would have never spoken to you in that manner if I knew who you were!”

“Please do not apologise,” goosebumps bloomed on your skin as you felt his fingers briefly caress your arm, “I was so grateful that you didn’t just stiffen up like everyone else, you talked to me like any other man. So, for that, I thank you and beg you to please not change it now that you know.”

“What? I-I couldn’t do that! It isn’t proper, it isn’t right!”

“Why not? You did it before.”

“Well, I didn’t know you were a prince before.”

“A title that’s been true since the moment I was born, but there are also a few others that are just as real. I am a son, I am a brother, I am a soldier. I am still the exact same person you spoke to only yesterday. I haven’t changed one bit, so please don’t act like I have. Please, at least call me James.”

“Your majesty, I couldn’t.”

“Why not, Y/n? It’s just my name, it’s not gonna bite you, didn’t before and I promise it won’t start doing it now.”

“Thomas,” king Fleamont glanced up from his papers to address his eldest son, “we’ve invited a few eligible ladies for tonight. Please actually talk to them this time, don’t just sulk in the corner with your brother.”

“Christ,” James' brother groaned, “papa, I thought this ball was just a little get-together now that granny is in town. Must I truly have to be paraded around every chance there is?”

“If that’s what it takes for you to find a wife, yes,” his father said sternly, then returned his attention to the crisp newspaper.

Grumbling, Thomas slumped back, huffing beside his brother on the tufted couch, “let’s hope they at least push their tits up to the heavens above,” he muttered under his breath for only James’ ears to receive, “that might make it tolerable.”

Chuckling at his sibling’s pout, James then suggested, “since this is for grandmama, why don’t we extend the invitation to Y/n?”

Furrowing her brow over the small fluffy dog in her lap, Euphemia questioned her son’s bold idea, “who’s that?”

“Granny’s lady’s maid,” his words awoke a severe expression to all but one of his family member’s faces. 

“Why that’s a wonderful idea, James!” Delilah cheered, “she does indeed deserve a bit of fun.”

Leaning in closer, Thomas hissed in his brother’s ear, “have you gone quite mad? A servant at a ball? Look at a calendar, brother, it isn’t December yet.”

“She isn’t that bad,” James defended, a storm quickly brewing in his chest, “plus, you know, granny’s not that young anymore, it might be a great help for her to be there as support. Just as a precaution.” 

“But I have nothing to wear!” you protested, “I didn’t bring a gown, let alone own one.”

“I know you don’t,” Delilah said calmly, not taking any of your blubbering to heart, “that’s why I had a few maids go through an old trunk of mine that I never brought with me to Cudworth,” she snapped her finger at the butler in the corner as he swiftly presented the dusty box he was balancing, “you are gonna wear this,” the top slipped off and you caught sight of the most stunning lavender beaded gown you’d ever beheld in your entire life. 

“Your Highness,” you marvelled at the way it sparkled in the low light, “I can’t wear that.”

“I know it’s not the latest fashion, but it’ll do a lot better than that frock you’ve got on now. I only remember wearing it once at a ball back in 1861.”

“I-…” you tried to protest, though nothing came out. 

“Y/n, this is not a proposition, you are gonna wear that gown and that is final.”

“God, this soiree is even more ghastly than the last one,” Thomas glanced back over at the cluster of young women fanning themselves and batting their luscious eyelashes at the eligible heir, “you think people would notice if we sneaked off?”

Ever thankful that he didn’t receive the same level of unyielding attention, James cocked his brow at the man half-heartedly attempting to hide behind him, “I don’t think that’s an option, brother,” then snatched up two tall flutes of stary bubbles and handed one off, “here, have another glass of champagne.”

“Thanks, but I’m gonna need a lot more in order to survive the 12 dances I've been swindled into later tonight,” he pouted and took a large gulp. Just then, as the crown prince swallowed down the stinging carbonated beverage, he caught sight of the figure that appeared at the top of the wide staircase. “Wait,” he elbowed his brother, ushering him to glance in that direction, “who’s that?”

Recognising you immediately as you timidly ascended the grand steps, clutching onto the side of your lilac dress, lifting it off the tile so as to not have to trip over it, James uttered through his growing smile, “that’s Y/n,” and nothing whatsoever could stop his unwavering gaze.  

“Really?” he scoffed, “that’s the scullery maid?”

“That’s her…” James replied dreamily. 

“I gotta admit, in that dress, you could almost mistake her for a real princess.”

“Yeah…” James uttered softly, not hearing a word of what he had just agreed with. “Hold this, will you?” without looking, he handed his glass off to his brother and left his post as the crown prince's unofficial shield. 

“James!” Thomas hissed, standing there in alarm, one glass in each hand, not sure if he should follow or not, “where are you going? Don’t leave me alone! I’ll be swallowed whole!”

Catching sight of James’ determined approach, you let out a deep and shaky exhale. 

“Y/n!” he smiled, coming to a jovial stop right in front of you, ignoring every merry man trying to catch his high-regarded attention. 

“Your highness-” you started, but his voice cut in, breaking your greeting in half. 

“James,” he corrected you, the glint in his eye promptly sending a shiver down your corseted spine.

“Good evening.”

“I hope it’s not too forward of me for saying this, but you look absolutely beautiful tonight.”

Your breath got caught in your throat as you blushed over his honeyed words, “thank you, your highness. Though I wouldn’t dare take any of the credit, this was all your grandmother’s doing. This is actually one of her old dresses,” you glanced down at the elegant gown, carefully playing with the skirt and presenting it. 

Looking over the fabric just as you did, his earnest words nearly didn’t catch your ears, “I wasn’t complimenting your dress…”

Blinking up into his warm eyes, you found yourself speechless, clueless of how to respond to such flattery by someone of his stature. 

“Would you care for a dance?” he asked unexpectedly, evidently not caring about the improper nature of the request, and looking at you as if you were the only person in the entire ballroom. 

“That’s very kind of you, your majesty, but I’m afraid I would just embarrass you,” you averted your gaze, “you see, I don’t know how.”

Briefly glancing back at his parents, checking to see if they were watching, James then grabbed your hand, it seeming so small and dainty in his, and uttered, “come with me,” discreetly guiding you out into one of the vacant side chambers. 

Following his lead, looking back over your shoulder in fear that someone might notice, it calmed you ever so slightly to see that everyone else was entirely enraptured by the dazzling event. 

Shutting the door behind you, his hand still holding yours, he gently turned you around to face him once more. Hearing the string quartet still loud and clear through the walls, the prince smiled, “so, miss Y/l/n,” asking you once more, now in a more private setting, “may I have the honour of this dance?”

Lifting the back of your hand up to give it a small peck, eye contact never wavering, you answered, “the honour would be mine,” blinking up at him through your lashes, “yes, yes you may.”

“Okay, so you just put your left hand right here,” he grabbed it and slid it up, past the many shiny medals adorning his chest, to rest upon his broad shoulder, “and keep the right one where it is,” you inhaled sharply as you felt his free palm slide into place on your waist.

“A-alright,” all the hairs on your body stood up at the intimate proximity, “and now?”

Your right hand entirely engulfed in his, he glided his thumb over it, delicately swiping over a few of your fingers, “now you just let me lead,” noticing how your jaw clenched, he reassured you, “don’t worry, love, it’s easy,” you felt your tense muscles begin to relax a bit at his deep soothing tone, “I’ll do all the hard work, you just trust me, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you offered him a small nod as he gently began to move, taking you with him as he fell into the song’s rhythm as if it was second nature to him. 

Simply swaying softly at first, it didn’t take long before he had you flowing to the music, slowly making your way deeper into the room, dancing further away from the lines of light the closed door cast. 

When you eventually felt him gain more confidence and move your body around freely, you followed the instinctual reflex to briefly glance down at your shoes. Feeling his hand let go of your waist momentarily, he whispered, “don't look at your feet,” and lifted your chin up so you could meet his gaze, “look right here.” 

Letting his finger drop back down into place, you felt his palm move and slide around to your lower back, drawing you in just a little bit closer. Feeling yourself disappear into the warm eyes veiled behind his spectacles, completely enraptured by his being and entranced by the way he moved you, you felt his hitched breath hit your skin as he leaned in close enough for your lips to graze against each other. 

But just as your eyelids fluttered close in anticipation of his eventual touch, the sound of the door, now a good ways away, creaking open halted your dance at once. 

“James?” you heard the crown prince call out, music now more vibrant as it didn’t have to travel through walls anymore to reach your ears, “you in here?”

Acting quickly, James pulled you around the corner and settled you into the little alcove there, pushing you up against the plate mail stature decorating the small corner and cloaking your figure with his own. His bulky frame swallowed nearly all of the starry light streaming in from the tall windows scattered around the chamber, causing you to be able to see him and only him. 

“Seriously brother, you have to get out here before pa realises that you’re gone!”

Disregarding his sibling’s warning, James stood his ground, completely enraptured and sharing your breath as he pressed himself up against your voluminous gown. You weren’t sure if it was because of the proximity or if your fingers simply followed the magnet calling them, but you found yourself pressing your palms against the silky fabric of his detailed jacket, feeling his taught abdomen expand with every shaky breath. 

Dilated pupils flickering down towards your lips, you found your own mirroring his, fearing that you might faint in the intensity of it all. 

His lips pressed against yours before you even had the chance to fathom that it was actually happening. The prince was kissing you. His lips were brushing against yours not in curiosity, but in genuine yearning.  

“Come on James, stop messing around, I know you’re in here!”

A small string of saliva followed as James reluctantly pulled back, thumbs brushing over each one of your cheeks as he stared deeply down into your hazy eyes. 

“Come to my room at midnight,” he whispered breathlessly, restraining himself to dive back in. 

“Your highness, I-”

“Please,” he interrupted desperately. 

You didn’t give yourself another moment to think before giving him an answer, being completely spellbound, you uttered, “yes.”

And with a bright smile, he let go of you and backed away, still staring as you had to reach out for support against the wall in order to not tumble back against the ornamental armor. 

“Just hold your horses, Thomas,” he called out to his frantic brother, eyes still locked with yours, “I’m coming!”

Hearing the rapid beating of your heart thumping in your ears, you let out a shaky breath. It took you a long moment to finally mustered up the courage and let your fist come into contact with the prince’s door. 

Almost instantaneously was it ripped open as if James’ fingers themselves had already been mere inches from the silver knob, impatiently lying in wait like a lion on the hunt, the action was so swift that it startled you. 

Face lighting up as he saw you, nervously standing outside his chambers, he promptly grabbed onto your wrist and pulled you inside. 

As the door shut behind you, “h-hi,” you offered him a meek smile and stood in the dim room as if it was a china shop. 

Elatedly biting down on his plump bottom lip, he echoed, “hi,” sliding his fingers down to weave through your own. Using the hold as leverage, he gently pulled you in closer, his other palm ready to catch your cheek before confidently pressing his lips against yours. 

When he momentarily pulled away, you squeaked, “your majesty-,” hindering him from taking your lips once more.

“James,” he corrected you breathily, keeping his eyes shut and nuzzling his nose lightly against yours. 

“James…” you tried to keep your head levelled, “what am I doing here?”

“What do you mean? Do you not want to be here?” he took the hand still enveloped in his and pressed it against his chest, “here, with me?”

“I…” this was wrong. The list of punishable things to stray away from in your line of work was extensive, but this one was certainly at the top, “James…”

“Christ, that sounds good coming from your lips,” he groaned, seizing your lips again and flexing his fingers on the side of your head, lightly messing up your primly pinned hair. 

Feeling yourself melt under his touch, the kisses began to wander, scattering down your goosebump-ridden neck. 

“We…” your breathing was heavy and ragged, “we can’t… What if someone finds out?”

Pulling back, he gently shook his head, “they won’t,” dark eyes boring into your very soul. 

“But I can’t-… Y-you’re-…”

“I?”

“You are-…”

“I am just me… Just James,” he stared down at you, begging you to stay. 

“But-”

“I am yours,” he promised you earnestly, a hint of fear glinting in his golden eyes, “I am all yours.”

Choking down a sob, you then found yourself pulling him down for another kiss, letting his overwhelming vow sink in and dim that warning light pleading you not to venture any further. 

Soon clawing at the silky fabric of his jacket, your fingers caught in the two rows of shiny buttons, restraining yourself from just ripping them clean off. Letting out a quiet whimper as James suddenly detached from you, taking a step back, gazing down at your heaving form, not giving in as you reached out for him to return. 

Eyes fixed, his own fingers slowly found the buttons along his torso and began to undo them. Tilting his chin up, he watched you closely as he carefully unveiled every inch of himself to you. Moving your fingers up to mirror his actions, he swiftly spoke up, “wait, let me do it,” stopping you before you’d truly begun, “please.”

The wish made you suck in a breath in anticipation, slowly lowering your hands back down to either side of your skirt, clutching onto the heavy lavender fabric for support as you gave him a small nod. 

For a moment, you thought he was gonna bear it all to you right then and there, perhaps he did as well, but his fingers stilled right at the waistband of his underwear when only they remained. Blinking sluggishly as you tried to take in his breathtaking visage, in what felt like a millisecond, James had moved to be back into your proximity. Walking around to stand behind you, his fingers then began to work at the numerous buttons and laces, freeing you of the unusually extravagant ensemble. 

You hadn’t even noticed how you’d stopped breathing till his lips pressed against your exposed shoulder and let the first layer fall. 

Little by little, the weight you carried was lightened as he tossed more and more fabric to the cold floor, creating quite the poofy puddle. When the corset fell off, James quickly replaced the stiff restraining item with his large warm palms, feeling your waist through the last thin layer remaining, inhaling deeply against the back of your neck. 

Gently turning you around, he slid his hands up your sides, promptly lifting your arms to stay above your head. Not dropping his eyes from yours, he glided fingers down to gather up the material of your delicate chemise, only lifting it over your head when the whole length of it was bunched up in his fists. 

Not being able to wait any longer, you let your arms fall, draping them around his broad shoulders and pressing your bare body up against his, the palpable tent in his briefs twitching against your stomach at the contact. 

Kissing him deeply, you nearly didn’t register when he scooped you up into his arms, the action seeming so effortless for the prince. Thighs enveloping his hips, it was first your heel that attempted to rid him of his last remaining clothes, though when it only worked to push them an inch off his hips, you impatiently dropped a hand down to yank them down the rest of the way, letting him step out of them as his slow stride closed in on the plush bed on the opposite side of the chamber. 

Feeling the bedframe soon halt his footsteps, your lips didn’t fall from his as he leisurely turned and planted himself on the mattress, taking you with him still securely wedged against his body. 

With his hands already rooted on your rear end, now that he no longer needed to carry you, they started to explore your body, palming at every pillowy curve within his reach. It only took one measly little rock of your hips against his thighs for him to needily yank you forward, landing your sobbing centre directly on top of his hard length.

“Your highne-, James,” you whimpered, the intoxicating contact making you detach from his lips and hide your blushing cheeks in his sturdy shoulder, still reciprocating his forward actions and sliding your dripping heat all along his throbbing length. 

“Please, let me have you,” he groaned into your hair, his hot breath blowing back some of the unravelled hair framing your face, “let me feel your warmth,” he pressed a palm on the small of your back, making you arch it and causing all of the delicious pressure to always be directly on your buzzing little pearl, “just let me in, love,” his fingers caressed your spine as you moaned against his neck, bucking desperately against his hardness, “let me have you, let me have all of you just like you have me.”

Reaching down between your bodies, you grasped onto James’ cock and lifted up your trembling thighs, though his large palms swiftly scooped under you, granting you some more security as you swept the bulbous tip through your folds, parting the wet petals over and over again till your quivering hole was screaming for attention. And then, still with your face buried in the crook of his neck, you sank down, eyes rolling back in your skull as your creamy pussy slowly swallowed all of his length. 

“Fuck,” James cursed, his chest rapidly rising and falling underneath you. 

Clinging onto him for dear life, you slowly began to ride him, shakily bouncing in his lap. Lewd squelching noises reverberated off the palace walls as he let you find your rhythm, eventually finding a slow but intense pace, first raising yourself nearly completely off, till just the memory of his girth remained, and then slamming your hips down against his own so hard that it actually made you see stars with how deep he got. 

“Let me see that beautiful face of yours,” you felt his fingers come to rest on each side, in no way attempting to force your head back, simply pleading with you sweetly with every gentle sweep of his thumbs against your cheeks. Your hips faltered as you timidly crawled out of your hiding spot and blinked your heavy lids at him. 

The shyness eventually melted away as you registered the adoring look in his eye. Gradually resuming your hips moments, you watched as his head tilted back ever so slightly in pleasure and gaze down at you through his lashes, “there you go, darling,” you let out a loud moan as you felt his palm accompany his praise, swiftly landing it upon your bottom, encouraging your bouncing and causing you to get back on track that much faster. 

Rapidly nearing the end now that his soulful eyes were locked with yours, you found yourself completely lost in the euphoric feeling, eventually welcoming James’ desperate aid as he dug his fingers into your hips and rocked you in his lap, essentially just using your body as he would with his own fist at night, lifting you off with such ease and fucking into you till you were both absolutely wrecked by the perfectly synched orgasms that rocked your realities. Though still, even as the pace slowed, he still kept on bouncing you in his lap, pushing his load deeper within you with every needy thrust. 

Breathlessly, both of you still completely enveloped in each other, your arms sluggishly draped around his neck and his wrapped around your sweaty body, keeping you pressed up against him. 

Slowly blinking his eyes open and staring back at you through his glasses, which had long ago glided so far down his long nose that they were now on the verge of falling off, he sighed contently and pressed his forehead against yours.

“Promise that you’ll write to me,” he whispered, his deep rumble making your sensitive body tingle and your walls clamper down on his softening girth. 

First giving his nose a light nudge with yours, you then brushed your lips against his, rapidly developing the innocent peck into a kiss so passionate that the time might as well have stopped. 

“I will,” you breathed, feeling the most blissful of tears roll down your cheek, “I promise.” 

“Y-your majesty!” you gasped, throwing your head back in ecstasy, nearly bumping your head against the doorframe you were balancing against. 

Detaching his lips from your swollen clit with a pop, he glanced up at you from his kneeling position and corrected, “James…” chuckling lightly as his fingers still clutched onto your dark skirt, bunching it up at your waist, “love, it’s been a whole year, thought you’d shake that habit by now.”

“Has it truly been a year already?” a shaky breath escaped your throat as he planted a kiss on your gleaming petals that was way too soft for how close he had you to the edge. 

“Happiest year of my life…” he beamed, right before diving back in, eating you out so as if someone could walk in and interrupt your fun at any moment, which was completely probable seeing as he hadn't waited for you to be behind closed doors for him to have a taste, simply whirled you around a corner and told you to be on lookout while he had his fun. 

“Fuck!” you weaved your fingers through his hair in an effort to keep him steady as the fireworks set off inside your belly, “James, I’m gonna-, don’t stop!” 

Bucking against his tongue as he stared up at your pleasure-filled face in awe, his mouth eventually eased into light pecks, loving the way your sensitive form jumped against his lips. Eventually rising back up to his feet, he pressed his slick-covered lips against yours and let your dress fall back down, covering the mess he had made. 

“Thank you,” he smiled brightly, lifting his thumb up to clean the glistening lower half of his face, swiping the finger over his chin only to bring it back up to his pillowy lips, licking the rest of your essence off and enjoying every last drop you’d given him.

“…It was an automobile accident…”

“W-what?” James uttered breathlessly, haven not heard a word of what his father had said after the bomb had been dropped. 

Tightening his jaw in an effort to control his own unbearable emotions, the severe king repeated, keeping his voice clear and stern, “your brother, crown prince Thomas, died last night. The authorities found him this morning a few hours away from here, in his car, which had crashed, tumbled over completely. I don’t know how long he was out there, trapped beneath an entire ton of metal, waiting it out, all alone… I-…” he let out a shaky breath, momentarily closing his eyes in order to centre himself, “the funeral will be held on Monday. That should give people a chance to get here in time.”

“Monday…” James’ unfocused eyes flicked around the room as he tried and failed to breathe in a world without his big brother, “granny will be able to get here in that time… that’s-…” he noticed how his glasses were now completely fogged up by his agonising tears, “she-, she should be here…” 

“My dear boy, you know what this means, right?” he exhaled, trying to catch his son’s glistening eyes, “as of last night your life will never be the same. It’s time for you to step up as the next rightful heir to the crown.”

next part

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[kookblurx]

1920 - jjk [ chpt 6. ]

→ SUMMARY: a photo of a beautiful smiling boy; an old tree in your grandparents garden ... and a feeling of sadness. all those things are connected to each other ...

→ GENRE: time travel au; changing fate au; rencarnation au; university au; death; sickness; historical setting; trigger topics; smut; dirty talk; switching between present and the past.

→ chapt. 5 / chapt. 7

→ RATING: 18+

→ NOTE: HUGE DISCLAIMER, this story plays in a fantasy setting. the world YN lives in doesnt exist, neither jungkooks. so please dont mention anything just because its not historically correct. this is piece of art. so yes, jungkook wears armor like a knight and no there are no guns in his time period. thanks.

JUNGKOOK MASTERLIST ♡.°₊ˎ PLAYLIST FOR THIS CHAPTER

The Present

a grunt escaped your lips as the sun peeked through the half open yellow curtains. squinting one of your eyes, sun only became more brightly with each second. a bit clumsy you tried to reach the digital clock on the top of your nightstand. while doing so your phone got knocked on the ground, for the time being this wasnt something which bothered you. another grunt left your lips as the clock showed 8am in the morning, it was still too early to be awake. the events from last night werent present in your mind as you climbed up onto your bed. surrounded by your fluffy blanket, you cuddled deeper into the mattress. as soon as your eyes finally gave in to your tired body something shifted beside you. you didnt even had the time to turn your body around as someone grabbed your right wrist. with a strong pull, your body was turned onto your bed. automatically your eyes widened as you looked into the face of a young man who was hovering over your body. still sleepy you couldnt tell who this man was and how he got into your room.

"its really bold of you to sneak into the bed of a man like this"

his voice was husky as the corner of his lips curled up into a small smile. you heard that voice before, that soft voice. the back of your neck grew hotter as your eyes try to make sense out of this situation. slowly they travelled down on the man's body, as they reached his abdomen and you finally saw the bandages, everything clicked. last night came back into your mind as you looked back into his face. there it was, the cut on his cheek.

"I-I didnt mean to ... wait this is actually my-!"

jungkook still had his smirk on his face as he moved closer to you. one of his hands cupped your cheek before he rubbed with his thumb over your ear a bit. right now you could die out of embarrassement. the back of your neck grew hotter with each inch he came closer to you. by now you were even able to feel his breath on your skin.

"Ugh ..." escaped from your lips as your whole body twitched.

no guy ever touched you like this, at least not on your ears. while you were wiggling underneath him, jungkook clearly enjoyed the few. his thumb travelled down from your ear to your neck.

"You are really cute ... i should thank you properly for saving me yesterday" so he knew who you were, he wasnt playing around.

you were to embarrassed to even move or pushing him away. with every inch he moved closer your whole face heated up more. you surely must look like a tomato right now. before his lips could touch yours the phone on the ground suddenly started ringing. that was the moment when you regained your senses back. with a strong push you managed to get rid of jungkooks body as he fell to your right side onto the bed. but before you were able to grab your phone from the ground, Kook grabbed your wrist again. this time he pushed you behind his back as he had one of your scissors in his hand.

"Stay back Y/N! Whatever this thing is .. i wont let it harm you!" you couldnt see his face but he sounded serious.

of course he would be worried .. jungkook never saw a smartphone before, let alone ever heard of one. with a soft chuckle you placed your hand onto his wrist before you slowly remove the scissors.

"dont worry, it wont harm me ... or you. See?" as you moved over to the edge of the bed you took the phone into your hands.

jungkook widened his eyes as you were pressing something. as you finally held it to your ear he came closer. of course on the other line was none other than jimin:

"hey jimin, what is it?" "hey ... i just wanted to check if .. last night was a dream or if hes still with you?" "well, i wish it would had been a dream but he's here and healthy as it seems ..." ".... can i come over?" "sure. you will be more of a help than i am ... you know more about his family and stuff. might be helpful" "got it. see you later"

after you hung up jungkook still looked at you like you were some kind of alien. unfortunately you didnt had the time to explain to him what that phone was. it was probably better for him if you were planning to send him back. who knows what such knowledge would cause in the past.

putting the phone away on the nightstand you finally was faced with a bigger challenge: how on earth should you hide him from your grandparents.

"is ... everything okay?" jungkook sounded worried as he moved closer to you, to the edge of the bed.

it was really suprising how he wasnt confused about this new place. suddenly you remembered that he lived here, in this same mansion. maybe this place wasnt too strange to him.

"let me ask you something ... do you know where we are?" your head turned into his direction.

"... hm ... i would say we are in my mansion ... i looked out the window earlier and saw the tree but ... " for a moment his eyes looked around your room "i guess ... im not really home?"

it nearly broke your heard because of his last sentence. thats right, he was home but at the same time he wasnt. with a sigh you stood up from your bed and walked over to the closet. luckily your grandpa stored some of his "old clothes" in your closet, so you wouldnt need to steal from him. hopeful that they would fit Jungkook you chose a pair of jeans and a basic black Tshirt. of course he was wary of the pants and the shirt. jungkook was a knight and only wore linen clothes. with your help he managed to change his clothes without opening his wound again. even helping him to get dressed was embarrassing because of the stuff that happened earlier.

you couldnt ignore how well build his body was and how his biceps flexed while putting on the shirt. but that wasnt enough. the pants fitted just fine, the shirt on the other hand was too small and flattered his tiny waist too well. gulping you rushed over to the door, making sure that your grandparents werent near. in the meantime you scolded yourself for acting like a damn teenager in front of a grown ass man. yes, he was good looking but that wasnt a reason to crush on him like this.

"w-wait here for a moment okay?"

after jungkook nodded you slipped out of your room and down the stairs. the foyer was empty so you made your way into the kitchen. no one there, good. after checking the big garage you finally came to the conclusion that your grandparents must be away at the moment. with fast steps you ran back into your room, ordering jungkook to follow you down into the library. even if they would came back, that was your space. while you were here they would never disturb you by walking in.

Inside the Library:

"woah ... this is huge! ... but wait, normally it shouldnt have this much of books" jungkook walked around the various shelves as he raised an eyebrow. "can you ... maybe tell me what is going on here?"

you this question would come up sooner or later but you would have preferred it when Jimin was here. with another sigh you sat onto the ground were some of the papers were still scattered around you. slowly you picked one of them up. it showed his photo, all smiling. it was this damn photo which ruined everything. you just wanted to jump to the moment were this photo was taken. instead you ended up on a battlefield. curious jungkook sat down beside you and snatched the paper out of your hand.

"hey! wait!" you wanted to get it back but to no avail.

jungkook's face grew serious as he studied the paper "... those are ... informations about me. where do you got all these?"

"thats ... okay listen. this might be crazy but i brought you here .. this isnt 1920 ... you are in my timeline and ...here you are already ..-"

"dead."

the word sounded so bitter that it gave you a sting inside of your heart. at the same time you prayed that this revelation wouldnt change something drastically in his timeline. before you could reach out your hand, something got thrown against the balcony window. this must be jimin. leaving jungkook with the papers you ran over to the window to open it. outside you helped Jimin climb up again but as he managed to stand on solid ground again, he didnt walk inside. instead he grabbed your arm, looking at jungkook who was still reading through the various papers

"its really him huh? fuck ... i dont know how you managed that but i think we are in big trouble ..."

"you dont need to tell me that ... im already trying to find a way to bring him back as soon as possible .. but for now its good you are here" slowly you pushed jimin inside before closing the doors.

"huh? why? you mentioned something similiar over the phone earlier"

"its ... Park Jimin is you ancestor and he was Jungkook's best friend. you two look really alike and share the same name ..."

"ah i see .. you want to give him some comfort huh?"

you nodded as you watched how jimin walked over to the confused looking jungkook. as he tapped him on the shoulder a jolt went through jungkook's body. to your suprise he immediately hugged Jimin. expecting that jimin would refuse that hug you were more suprised as he hugged kook back. the scene in front of you was really sweet but at the same time your mind drifted back to earlier as kook ran his fingers down your neck. your cheeks began to burn again as you shaked your head. this wasnt the time to think about such things.

the moment you sat back down next to the guys, jimin already explained to jungkook that he isnt really the jimin he was looking for. somehow jungkook seemed to understand this much.

"so ... that must mean jimin found a nice girl and had a family with her huh?" a smile spread across jungkook's face

"uh yeah you could say that" jimin on the other hand rubbed over his neck, slightly nervous.

"what about me? are there any ...great grandkids or something from me? do i find a wife for myself!"

jungkook seemed so excited as he looked at the both of you. at the same time jimin and you could only look at each other. the fact that jungkook's family tree ended with him, made your heart feel heavy. you didnt want to tell him the truth. that he needed to die without every finding love.

"jungkook listen you-"

as jimin started to speak he suddenly froze mid sentence. confused you waved with one hand in front of his face but there was no reaction at all. this could only mean one thing. the fairy was back. suprisingly jungkook wasnt frozen and looked as confused as you.

a book got knocked from the shelve as the fairy revealed herself. her blonde hair was messy and strands of it fell into her face. quickly you stood up just to take her into your hands

"oh god what happened ... you look horrible"

"we ... we have a big problem ... HUGE PROBLEM .... " the fairy was completely out of breath.

jungkook also finally stood up from his place and walked closer to the two of you "what happened?" compared to your shaky voice, his was more serious.

slowly the fairy finally lifted her face "we are doomed .."

"what do you mean! talk to me finally!" carefully you shaked the fairy in your hands a bit

"its .. its jimin"

Taglist:

@junecat18 @hellbornsworld @stupendouscookiehumanmug

[remembertheplunge]

We cannot unsee what we have already seen--the 1980's

April 28, 1988

It’s now a Thursday—

Some post scripts from somewhere in the “last” night and from yesterday by Judge David Vander Wall “The 1970’s don’t seem that long ago. The 80’s are just passing me by…” DA Mike  Stone replied “The 70’s weren’t worth anything anyway.”

I watched last evening “a A Walk Through the 20th Century with Bill Moyer. The 1920’s" :

Flappers and fun flanked by Fraud and Famine. Poo Poe Pee Do! The truth was that the poor (in the 20’s) didn’t realize they were poor until long after they weren’t!. They had a general feel of contentment despite their financial situation.

What about us in the 1980's? In the KPFA Radio Folio program guide,Life in 1968 is compared with life in 1988. The 80’s were condemned as the 1950’s relived. 1988 Yuppies are the men in charcoal grey suits. Ahhhh! But, what bridged the years is the depth of awareness setting in. We cannot unsee what has been seen. We close only to heal and tp grow internally. The individual reform we know is the only true change. Only true “life” takes place on an individual basis. More and more we learn "..oh..when I had the Mercedes and miserable marriage I was poor. Now, I am…,Me!" 

To me, 1980 or 1981 were just about like 1988 in terms of styles, attitudes, money, etc. Pretty much the same. Music hasn’t changed much. Nothing has really. And yet, imperceptibly, everything has irrevocably changed, improved. Come a bit more into its own. 

Only you, the future, may be able to give it perspective. What, if anything, do the 80’s mean to you? Don’t forget us. We are a part of your past and thus a part of you.

I offer up this diary entry to you as a revelation of one person- traveler’s time notes written during  his time-space journey.

End of entry

Notes: 9/21/2024

I love the fact taht I included the line “We cannot unsee what has been seen” in the above 1988 entry. 

That has been my fight song passing through these turbulent times where the Republican Right is attempting to cancel our collective progressive progress. They can ban and burn our books and the Supreme Court can strip us of our rights. But. We have seen. We know. We will continue to live our lives and assert our  values despite and because of their orders. We have seen. We will act. We have agency.

I also think that it’s interesting that I said in the above entry that there was not much difference between life in 1980 or 81 and life in 1988. In 1980, I was not yet a. Lawyer, I was way in the closet and Aids was not yet publicly known about. By 1988, HIV  had been  known about for 7 years in which time it decimated many lives. In 1986, I began working as a volunteer helping men with Aids through their illness and death. I had been a lawyer for 7 years by 1988 .I had been emersed in the heavens and hells of criminal law defense. I had married in 1982 a woman who I left in 1984 as I began to emerge as a gay man. By 1988, I was fully out. So, actually I was a much more evolved person in 1988 than I had been in 1980. But, maybe because the evolution took place slowly over  years, I wrote about the decade as if very little had happen.

Judge Van Der Wall was a judge in Modesto California. I spent my 40th birthday in a murder trial in his court. His clerk, Linda, gave me a happy birthday cup cake that birthday morning in court! They have both since died. I just thought Judge Van Der Wall and Mike Stone’s  take on the 70’s and 80’s was interesting. Time was  just passing them by. Have you noticed the no one now in the mid 2020’s ever talks about the 20’s? I mean the 2020’s. We are living it . We can’t see it This now has no name . It just  is. But, I imagine in 20 years, they will be screaming about “The Outrageous 20’s!"

Flappers were the early forerunners of the women’s empowerment movement. They wore shorter dresses than their predecessors had and advanced women’s rights through word and action. 

Bill Moyers was a Public TV host. He did stories on interesting people and events past and present.

Per Oxford Languages Dictionary, a Yuppie was "a young person with a well-paid job and a fashionable lifestyle."

[iodrawsandtalks]

Criticism of Penacony and why i think HYV shouldve quit while they were ahead.

//vent towards the end, references to suicide while those references are quest spoilers Recently I've been doing world quests and grinding out the new region and been repeatedly finding myself walking straight into microagressions and slights to the point where it's been jarring enough for me to put my game down. As a black dude playing HYV games i know well enough not to act like the stupid billion dollar game company cares about appealing to minorities but its 2024 man.

First off, the obvious issue. Penacony has been repeatedly mentioned by the devs themselves to be based off of the Jazz Age from the U.S. a few decades ago.

The Jazz age was a period of time in American History between the 1920's and 1930s where the popularity of Jazz just boomed from being like an indie type of music to one of worldwide popularity. Obviously, Black people in that era are wholly responsible for Jazz itself.

So yeah, Penacony takes its origins from a key black history movement. Penacony, the region that released at the start of February. Black History Month. Star Rail is arguably one of the most popular games right now in terms of outreach because it's free, its new, and its colorful/futurisric etc.... And yet....

Just like with the rest of the HYV games that take real world inspirations, they fucked over black people and their stories.

In Honkai Impact 3rd, basically we had this one black girl who's like sandpaper brown and complains about how much her DARK SKIN ruins her look and how she bleaches her skin using various products to keep it lighter. She is ashamed of her DARK SKINNED mother who's a military woman. Her father is absent. Her mother is also a grown adult who is a B-rank soldier(main character white teenagers are S-rank for reference). Carole Peppers is her name if you want to go further down that rabbit hole.

In Genshin Impact, besides the fact that people with different skin tones are CLEARLY sectioned into certain regions(no seriously there's no real reason why i shouldnt see a black person in any of the existing regions.), and besides the unnecessary amount of whitewashing and besides the perpetuation of the idea of melanin NOT being natural, every single brown/black character in the game has awful playstyles and/or poor matching with weapons/artifacts, inaccessibilty, and they NEVER make it to the top of any meta tierlists. I'm not outright saying they're bad they're just harder and almost never get specialized weapons.

The only previously relevant example in Star Rail was Arlan, a lightning/destruction character. He chews through his own HP and unlike characters like blade/clara, does not have resistance or healing to handle that. Serval, the other lightning 4 star, out-dps's him veryyyyyyy easily. So yeah, the ashy black person character basically dies if you use him for too long and is never relevant TO ANY quests except where he needs to be the sidekick.

sometimes these games have dragons, animals that can understand and process english, or magic.... but then not black people...

Penacony has no black main characters. No black stories of relevance. Yesterday found an NPC whose name was detracted from chocolate and the player had the option to let commit suicide.

yeah ill get to that 💀. This large mass of at least 4 supernatural looking characters and yet no black person. NOT EVEN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS FROM penacony itself are black.

so yesterday I was grinding clockwork quests and had to help out some apathetic shopkeeper named Cocona. Her story was almost a bit sad but midway into going through her background i realized her name is one letter off of cocoa. now imagine being on a creative team coming up with a name for a melanated NPC and somebody decides on fucking CHOCOLATE with an extra letter. before anybody implies that one was something i shoehorned, think about how itd go if i had a bunch of POC characters and one white girl named crackerella.

Cocona and her once again sad backstory reach a hard tipping point as the player follows her to the edge of a building and can either grab her to stop her from jumping or simply let her end her life jumping off the building.

Yes we've seen how this game lets you make choices and watch the consequences of your actions, but there have been established rule-breaking predecents. Take Ruan Mei's quest where you have no choice but to eat the cake she offers you and once again lose the ability to make a choice on saying anything related to her. or any time the trailblazer gets pushed into a fight and cannot de-escalate. ....with this in mind consider why was saving the cocoa girl from killing herself NOT a forced option.

normally id be the kind of silly person looking for lore bits and stuff and making theories, (like how clockie is from the path of elation :v)but as a black dude this whole region is disgusting. THEY ARE GENTRIFIYING JAZZ AND COVERING UP ITS BLACK ORIGINS idk who said HYV cared about their audiences they fucking dont.

wouldve posted this on reddit but whoop dee do i am NOT getting doxxed today.

[laurelindebear]

Finally saw the Mummy 25th anniverary release in the cinema yesterday and AAAAAAAAHHHHH IT'S SO GOOD ON THE BIG SCREEN. I know it's not all accurate (either to the various parts of ancient Egypt or 1920s Egypt/North Africa) but it's just gorgeous, from the opening shot of 'Thebes' to the golden desert panoramas to giant 15-foot-tall Ardeth on a huge screen aaaaaaaaaaah I'm dead.

I had cuddly baby Horus and his handmade tagelmust with me the whole time, I wore my Key of Hamunaptra earrings, I wore my Medjai necklace, I wore my Ardeth t-shirt. I've never been to the movies alone but I loved every second.

I can't remember if I've even been to the cinema since Covid and I think I missed it more than I realised. I'm not a huge film buff, and we've got a big tv (my partner is an avid tv viewer). But when it comes to some shots, the panoramas, the detail in the close-ups, the shots that are there for unabashed visual aesthetic - like maybe my favorite shot of all time, Wall-E reaching out to touch the swirl of ice/rocks as he clings to the Axiom - the cinema screen gives an immersiveness the tv can't match.

I'd seen it last week again as well, with a friend who'd never seen it, and between the two I noticed some things I hadn't before, or had forgotten. So this is gonna be long and rambly and full of questions and observations.

The brownface and imperialism is bad. Some of it I guess is period-accurate, and partly to indicate that certain characters aren't great people/are earning their grisly deaths (Chamberlain and the Americans). But a lot of it is inexcusable. Omid Djalili's performance is pretty over-the-top (and he is afaik Iranian and not Arab), a lot of 'Egyptian' characters clearly aren't (even beyond the main cast, all of Imhotep's priests look like White guys in gold paint to me. Some of the Medjai eg the one with the hook are also in brownface.)

A lot of local diggers and Medjai are killed in the Medjai raids and the plagues and it's not really acknowledged much. You'd think Ardeth would still have some hard feelings about Rick/Evy/Jon having killed people he's known all his life but maybe you have to develop a different view of violence and death when your whole life is centred on stopping the end of the world.

When the heroes are fleeing from the museum, they crash the car and run a short distance away. Rick, Ardeth and Jonathan escape via a manhole to get to Winston at the airfield. When they arrive at the airfield, they seem to be in the same car. How?

Why does Evy seem to be waking up on the slab? When we last saw her she was wide awake and chastising Beni. Feels like something was cut here.

The Medjai with the hook also has the following tattoos on his cheek: Gardiner's sign U6 or U7 (mr) and 2x H6 or (I think) M17 (y or j). What is ymr or mry? 'Beloved'? Is Anck's name in there too? What do they all mean? I must know! Would it be weird if I tried to write to the designers and artists from the film about it?

Some of the Medjai (or other workers) performing the Hom Dai have no tattoos on their arms. Most of the Medjai have tattoos which include one of the eye symbols (Eye or Horus or Eye of Ra) on their shoulders. Sidenote, I think Ardeth should have worn the old-timey Medjai outfit just once, for science. (Good thing we have the amazing @minilev to imagine it for us.)

The Hamunaptra cat is really totally out of the bag by the end of it. Not only is there treasure and archaeological finds (sadly not the Book of Amun-Ra, dammit Jonathan 😜) but Cairo had about 5 simultaneous (super)natural disasters. Ain't no covering that up. They're gonna need to recruit a lot more Medjai. (I volunteer! It will not go well for me though. I would be the worst Medjai of all time.)

Did Patricia Velasquez play the mummified version of Anck as well?

Who was Imhotep going to sacrifice the first time? One of his priests?

Was already thinking about this before I rewatched it but...the law is distinctly that no other man may touch Anck-su-namun. Has anyone written an AU where Anck and Nefertiri fall in love and escape Seti together? 👀 (I know he treats Nefertiri ok but Anck is clearly not a happy and willing participant in their relationship.) I would read that. (No, me, you already have half a dozen stories you'll never finish. Don't even think about it.)

Where are the camels at the end from? Didn't they all get ridden back after the first time they left Hamunaptra? And I thought there were more horses than camels, anyway.

Ardeth really was supposed to die, it was so clear. He was fist-fighting mummies and then had dynamite thrown at him. I'm not even slightly sad he survived (it's my favorite plot hole of all time!) but...how. Thank you Stephen Sommers for your vision. 🙌

Jonathan's face-journey for his 'Iiiiimhooooteeeeep' line is even more amazing on the big screen. I remember why my sister and I loved it so much. John Hannah and Jonathan are very underrated IMO.

Kevin J O'Connor also underrated. Beni is a weasel through and through...but Kevin plays him so, so well.

What does Beni say in ?Hungarian when Rick confronts him in the egyptologist's office? And how does he understand Imhotep - magic? I can buy he'd learn protective prayers in 10 different languages, but translating Middle Egyptian is another thing entirely.

Evy and Rick doing the 'I love you' 'I know' thing with just their eyes when Evy goes with Imhotep to try to save them. SO GOOD.

Has Brendan Fraser ever been hotter than when Rick first catches sight of Evy after her Bedouin makeover? (Which, coincidentally, has been living rent-free in my head ever since...it's almost an anti-niqab since the sheerness and beading on the veil arguably draw more attention to her and her eyes but...damn girl. 😍

Evy's delight at getting to Hamunaptra on her camel and finally getting to do field work is delightful, it's infectious, it's a pure joy to watch. As a female lead who could so easily have been an ineffectual trophy, she holds her own and carries the film as an equal protagonist to Rick in her own right. And I love her for it.

Evy and Jon are one of the better portrayals of siblings I can think of offhand. They have just the right mix of ride-or-die familial bond and squabbling.

Ardeth Bay's cheekbones cut more deadly than his sword tbqfh. (oops. but it's true.)

I should stop talking because this is so long. But if anyone wants to talk about anything Mummy-related, my inbox is very open!

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

Hi M, how are you? Coming after the high of Shogun's yesterday's win at the Emmy's made me wonder if you have a favourite historical movie or tv show that is underrated or in the category more-people-should-watch-this? Hopefully you indulge in this type of movie. 😊

For example, for me, one such movie is "Master and Commander: The Far side of the World" :brilliant ensemble cast all across the board, good chemistry between the main leads, engaging story, very good soundtrack, fx that still hold, 99% hystorically accurate 😂 but despite this not many have heard or watched this movie.

Have a nice day!

P.S. can't believe that tomorrow the last episode of AYS will air 😭.

Hi @shimako! Sorry for answering your question late, but I postponed it because I kept trying to think of a list. And honestly, I saw the words historical drama and forgot the underrated part so this is a bit of a disaster, but I'll make it work. Let's just say this is an incomplete list of tv shows that had an impact on me at the time and ages that I had when I watched them. And you'll see that I barely remember the plot, but I sort of know how I felt.

1. Rome

Is this underrated? Hell no! But perhaps in today's age of tv, a lot of people have forgotten about that show. Only two seasons, but it was among the first batch of prestige tv in the middle of the 2000s. I liked it so much that it made go to the bookstore and buy a book about Caesar. If I went through my Egypt phase in middle school, then my Ancient Rome period came in high school.

2. The Borgias

At the time of its runtime, I think it was pretty big. Although I don't think it won many awards. I also remember it being used as an example on scholarly papers about Hollywood using Eastern and Central European studios because of cheap labor and good locations. Budapest and Prague can replace Florence, lol.

The Borgias was naughty. And it had Jeremy Irons who is a fantastic actor in my opinion. Eventually they actually leaned heavily into the siblings relationship which I thought was daring. They went there 👀. And the costumes were so beautiful!.

3. The Tudors

I remember this show through the eyes of a 13-14 year old that developed a massive crush on the actor portraying Henry the VIII. This was like the rock'n'roll version of the story. And it was sexy. A bit over the top. A stepping stone for some actors that would become a lot more famous in the years to come. I think it was on HBO so probably not underrated at the time, but mostly forgotten nowadays.

4. Versailles

I can't remember if it's French or they talk in English. But it was lots of fun. And really gay. They didn't stay away from that. That's all I remember, but give it a try.

5. Taboo

This is that show with a really brooding Tom Hardy who remains like that throughout the story. But if you're interested in 1800s London and England's imperialist plan and its effects on colonized territories, this might be it.

6. Babylon Berlin

I don't know if this fits into the list, but it is a great portrayal of 1920s Berlin. A period in which artistic freedom and experimentation was at its height, but also juxtaposed with political unrest, creating this environment that would lay the ground for the rise of the fascist party. It's a german show, an HBO production and I like that it's not glamourized. You can see it in their clothes, their hygiene habits, their visible sweat and run down outfits they wear in clubs. It feels real.

7. Black Sails

I first heard of this when I wanted to watch more Toby Stephens movies/series but I almost stayed away because it was a Michael Bay production. Black Sails is so smart. At first, it might lure in the wrong audience, even based on the first trailer. It looks like a pirate show full of action sequences and machismo. And then you actually watch it and it flips that exact narrative. It is a direct critique of imperialism. It is also such a good case for any film and gender & queer studies analysis. But more than that, what really sealed the deal for me in what is considered a grade B series with grade B actors, is the meta-textual discourse on storytelling. It's about creating those pirate legends, of creating narratives to protect themselves against the empire. And all that is unfolded through brilliant lines of dialogue. It still remains a 10/10 tv show for me and the actual underrated one.

[hongtiddiez]

much ado about shin

so i wanted to put my thoughts and feelings down on the trajectory of Bake Me Please yesterday but i had a splitting migraine and couldn't thoughts well, so here it is today.

i've said it in the past but Shin doesn't know how to give affection, he doesn't know what it means to love, because he's never had proper examples of what that looks like. we're modeled by our environment and Shin has grown up very isolated from everything, so he's wildly out of his depth when it comes to more tender feelings. i said last week i believed we would see Shin try and use food, the only instance where he does understand love, to try and apologize to Peach and i was delighted when it turned out i was right.

this doesn't mean i'm not still infuriated with Shin, though. his constant ego is tiring, the fact he thinks he invented the fucking torta caprese (i don't think you were around in 1920 Shin, sorry,) the way he called Peach's dream stupid, the fact he doesn't understand why Guy would leave to pursue his own dreams (again, i wonder if Shin has ever had a dream,) and the way he just doesn't. fucking. listen.

we did see a glimpse this week, a little nod that Shin has changed. he grows defensive around Peach because that's the source of his hurt right now but when he was alone in the kitchen with Atom he didn't lash out, wasn't rude to him, he was soft and kind and even vulnerable as he hid his tears. Shin is changing, he's keeping good habits for the most part, which is good to see. now if only he could be that way around Peach.

while i don't understand why we're supposed to keep giving Shin our patience and understanding (the narrative really hasn't done much to redeem him in my eyes) i do appreciate from a narrative standpoint that we're being shown that impulsively falling into bed with someone with little communication or understanding does not a good relationship make.

Shin and Peach had no discussion of their feelings for each other before or after sleeping together and it became very clear very quickly that they still don't even really know each other. Shin had no idea about Peach's dream, barely knows anything about how he grew up, and has shared very little of himself with Peach - and even asks Peach to keep their relationship a secret with zero explanation. (i don't know what you expected him to think Shin you fucking doorknob.) they're good at flirting, at falling into bed together, at being playful, but they're absolutely dog shit at talking.

you know who isn't bad at talking?

here i go again. but honestly, Guy has always talked to Peach about what bothers him, what he likes, what he wants to do with his life. this is the number one reason i won't classify Guy as an incel "nice guy" character (Oab) because he does genuinely care about Peach and what goes on in Peach's life. he's listened to Peach complain about Shin, watched them get together, and has comforted Peach numerous times. he knows Peach better than his own boyfriend, fling, whatever does and i think that's probably what is fueling so much of his frustration and petty actions.

i also think this relationship between Peach and Guy is why so many of us would rather see those two get together. they communicate, recent events not withstanding, they have fun together and have genuinely really liked each other (platonically) since episode 1. your partner should be your best friend and aside from Atom i believe Guy is the best friend Peach has. they would probably work so well together, support each other, and make the most amazing bakery of Peach's dreams together - if only Peach could stop giving a shit about Shin.

and like, the heart wants what the heart wants or whatever. sure. but i'm genuinely very concerned we're going to see Peach apologizing to Shin in the finale and Shin taking no accountability or it being brushed off as "that's just how Shin is." i need to see Shin apologize, whether with words, actions, or something, for calling Peach's dream stupid. above everything else that absolutely needs to be addressed because that's something Peach will remember forever. our brain has a funny way of latching on to the worst things people have said to us and rotating them in a microwave.

i would respect the show so fucking much if Shin and Peach didn't get back together, if they went their separate ways. is it a cute ending to a love story? absolutely not, but it would be so realistic and even healthy. sometimes you meet someone and it's fun and the sex is good but it's just never going to work and you can't change people (they can only change themselves.) i would even appreciate if they went a 'right person, wrong time' approach; maybe a time skip where Peach has his dream shop, Shin walks in, and they can try again.

all i know is i REALLY don't want to see this all put on Peach's shoulders, and i don't really want Guy to be pigeon holed into being a villain either. Shin's being fucking goofy and i think Guy's antics are the wake up call he needs (when he wakes up from his.. heart attack? embolism? stroke?) to get his shit together and treat Peach right.

but if he shoves Peach one more time i'm ripping his arms off and beating him with them, that's for sure.

[sirenofthegreenbanks]

🐞🦗🪳

hehe someone stepped into my trap mwahaha

🪳 recommend a great AU!

falling til four in the morning by phnelt. MDZS, The Untamed, modern au, wangxian, T. 90s AU where lan zhan and wei ying meet through analog media. its been a while since i read it but i have a weakness for analog media, especially tapes, and these things really get to shine here.

widow‘s weeds by travelingneuritis. MDZS, The Untamed, modern cultivation, wangxian, wlw, comphet, E. very fun AU about wei wuxian being engaged to jin guangyao, and lan wangji, the landscape gardener wei wuxian hired for her wedding, suspecting that wei wuxian has been killing her former husbands (plural). jin guangyao has only a small role here but i liked how the author has written him and his incidental cahooting with wei wuxian!

but the wind keeps blowing by morwen. WOH pre-canon/canon divergence, wenzhou, amnesia, ghost valley, M. a man without a name wakes up in a place without a yesterday. on his travels to find out who he is, he picks up two interesting companions with their own agendas. a really cool stab at zhou zishu’s and wen kexing’s and gu xiang's pre-canon selves, and a look at how wen kexing‘s coup for the throne of ghost valley might have been like, now with zhou zishu thrown into the mix. i especially loved how the department of the unfaithful plays into this. this fic is written in german!

the remains of summer by nirenhuang. WOH modern AU, wenzhou, fluff, T. zhou zishu and wen kexing are students in the Berlin of 1920-30. this is a bilingual fic (german, english). due to the time this is set in, some of the places that show up here dont exist anymore, they were destroyed during the third reich or ww2. i loved how the author interweaves these aspects and creates this rich tapestry of culture, identity, language, queerness, and finding your crowd, in the years just before hitler comes into power. (politics have no impact, though.) this is a rewrite of a similar fic by the same author in mandarin, and there is a sequel! predominantly written in english with some german phrases!

🐞 recommend a favourite fic or several from one of your friends OR a fic author you really look up to!

how to be ravenous by caffeineaddict94. WOH modern au, Ride or Die AU, wenzhou, wlw, E. zhou zishu and wen kexing reunite after years of not speaking with each other. their complex relationship is unravelled over the course of wen kexing comitting murder for zhou zishu and their subsequent escape from the authorites. a story about want and yearning and these hidden things lodged deep inside that even if u dont acknowledge them, still have the power to ruin your life—or change it for the better.

one of the moments i cant stop thinking about:

Her fingers fit perfectly around Zishu‘s throat, right against her windpipe. Zishu studies Kexing‘s flushed face and vicious eyes with no reservations. Serenity washes over her like a deep ocean as her pulse beats rabbit quick beneath Kexing‘s fingertips. “You didn’t have to get my hopes up,” Kexing seethes, grip tightening just enough to make it difficult to swallow. “I was over all of it. I was over you but you had to pop up again, you selfish asshole!” “Kill me then.” That throws Kexing off balance.

written by my wonderful, talented friend!!!! read it!!!! if u want to feel, like, a little gutted!!! for fun!!! read it!!!

🦗 recommend any fic, wild card!

so pretty but your heart‘s got teeth by livinginaworldofnoise. WOH modern au, wenzhou, crack, G. zhou zishu‘s terrible and chaotic neighbour wen kexing devises a masterful plan to woe zhou zishu, much to zhou zishu‘s chagrin. that plan includes feral kittens and lots of atrocious ignorance of boundaries. nothing at all goes wrong (lie). i reread this one recently and it was great :D

bug me for fic recs!!!!!! seriously im begging u

[burguesinha24]

An Unlikely Alliance: Part Five

(WOHOO BITCHES I'VE GOT MOTIVATION)

(Uses my OC Victoria and @virydia's OC Estelle)

Warnings: cursing

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Alastor let out a long, dramatic and aggravated sigh. He was honestly stupid for believing Vox could do something as simple as ripping his wife's best friend away. It was pathetic, really.

"I don't see how this is a problem." He mused, playing with the cord of the telephone as he held it against his ear. Vox's distorted, loud voice caused him to hold the telephone to the ceiling. He stared at the wall with an unamused glare.

"YEAH BECAUSE YOUR WIFE DIDN'T LOOK UP AT YOU LIKE HER FUCKING WORLD WAS FALLING APART YOU TWO-FACED LITTLE BITCH-BOY OF A 1920s FLAPPER." Alastor sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose and inhaling deeply before pressing the phone against his ear again.

"How... creative." He grumbled, rolling his eyes and examining his nails.

"Listen," Vox huffed, taking a deep breath to call himself down. "I know that we hate each other, and that this whole thing is so that we don't have to be around each other anymore, but I frankly don't give a fuck anymore." Vox's voice broke a little at the end of his sentence. "I can't see her like that ever again. I love her much more then I hate you. So back the fuck off." He growled, and then the line went dead. Alastor blinked in surprise, holding the phone in his hand for a few moments before gently setting it back down on the desk.

Well, I'll be damned.

He frowned, standing up and dusting off his suit jacket. A strange feeling tugged at his inky black heart. Remorse? Sadness? Trepidation? Guilt, even? He shook his head, plastering on a smile once more. The Radio Demon didn't do guilt. He didn't do remorse. He was the fucking Radio Demon. What he said went...

Right?

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Victoria stared down at her phone, narrowing her eyes at Estelle's contact. She took a deep breath, one hand curled around her phone while the other was clutched tightly to the shark plushie Vox had gifted her on their second anniversary.

"I can do this." She chewed on her bottom lip as her thumb hovered over the call button. "I can do this. I can do this. I can do this." She glanced down at the plushie (her name was Vark, courtesy of Vox's super creative mind.) Vark stared blankly at her. Victoria's ears drooped down and she groaned, falling back onto the soft mattress beneath her. "Why am I so bad at this?" She grumbled, holding Vark close to her chest. "I got this. Just get it over with." She quickly pressed the call button, staring down at her phone with wide eyes. As usual, Estelle answered before the third ring.

"Hey! I was wondering what happened. Busy day?" Victoria's breath caught in her throat as Estelle's voice sounded from the other side.

"Um, is was fine." Victoria's usually loud and confident voice was now much more quiet and nervous.

"Whoa, what's wrong? You're never this timid, dear." Victoria sighed at Estelle's worried tone.

"I don't know if you know this, but you played one of the songs I sent you on your show yesterday." The words tumbled out of her mouth in a hurry, and Victoria hid her face in Vark's chest fluff, waiting anxiously for Estelle's response.

"What?" She repeated what she had said again, this time more slowly. "What?" This time Estelle's voice sounded angry. Victoria breathed out a sigh of relief.

"I knew it wasn't on purpose! Oh I was so worried and I felt so betrayed and-" Estelle cut off Victoria's happy rambling, her voice rising to a shrill, high-pitched scream.

"ALASTOR!" Victoria tilted her head, letting Vark fall comfortably to her lap as she stared down at her phone.

"Um, is everything oka-"

"No. It's not." Estelle's tone had turned icy, and Victoria grinned. She loved it when Estelle went batshit feral. "Alastor is the only one who's magic can cut through my airwaves. The only way any other broadcast would have come through is if he played it." Victoria blinked in surprise. It seemed so unbecoming of him. Wasn't he... a gentlemen? Or he at least wanted to appear like one, right?

"Well, why would he do that, though? I can't imagine that he would like my style of music, and there's not really a reason for him to broadcast it unless he was trying to start some feud in between us..." Victoria trailed off, her eyes widening in realization.

"I'm going to kill him." Estelle's voice was much more calm, but Victoria could tell she was seething on the other end. Victoria laughed, covering her mouth with her hands as she giggled into her pillow. "I fail to see how any of this is amusing."

"Stella, your husband is so bothered by Vox that he's willing to break up our friendship just so they stop hanging out. Wouldn't it be so funny to see them think they're on the brink of breaking us up and then seeing how they failed?" Victoria explained, still giggling as she moved her hands in the air. Estelle was quiet for a moment.

"That's brilliant, my dear friend." She finally said, giggling along with her friend. "They'll never know what hit 'em." Suddenly Victoria's phone pinged. It was a notification for a new VoxTech article. It was posted on the gossip forum in regards to Victoria and Estelle's relationship.

"Oh fuck!" Victoria squealed, doubling over in laughter.

"What? What happened?"

"Vox just published an article about us. It has a bunch of quotes where I say that I hate you." She said between giggles, hiding her face in Vark's fluff and muffling her laughter. Estelle joined her giggling, sighing.

"Those imbeciles. I'm going to go to Alastor and convince him that I'm positively wrecked." Victoria took a deep breath to calm down her laughter before nodding.

"You do that, babe. Fuck, this is going to be so funny."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alastor panted, collapsing on his bed and groaning. Since Vox had refused to help any further, it was up to him to initiate the second phase of the plan. Vox's firewalls were difficult to breach, but Alastor was able to weave his way into his website and publish the little gossip column he had wrote. But now, of course, Alastor was beyond exhausted. His head snapped back as the door opened, his sclera black and his pupils turning into radio dials. He instantly calmed down once he saw Estelle in the doorway, her eyes welling with tears. His smile softened, and he tilted his head.

"Oh love, what is it?" Estelle sniffed, burying her face in her hands.

"Victoria has said the most cruel things about me online!" She wailed, flopping down on the bed dramatically. Alastor's eyes widened. Oh shit. He wasn't expecting her to react so passionately. He immediately got up, scouring the room for some tissues, water, chocolate, anything. Estelle's shoulders were shaking, and she buried her face in the mattress to hide how hard she was laughing.

"Well, I never did like her, darling." Alastor said, still pacing about the room to try and find something to calm his wife down. She wailed even louder, hitting the mattress with her fists. He shoved some books to the side, grabbing an old napkin and handing it to her. Estelle took one look at it before sniffing and sobbing even louder.

Shit.