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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 2 years

Note

Is there any chance we could have a round up of the Circus? I am so lost on how the dominoes fell over the last 40 days

Okay this is not comprehensive, because (a) my husband the politics nerd is currently on his way to a gig in west Wales somewhere and so cannot chime in and also (b) all our political journalist friends are understandably quite busy right now doing political journaling, but I seem to have an influx of new followers who are also very confused and don't understand what's going on, so I shall try.

Alright so what we're seeing here is the Second Clownfall of 2022, the hotly anticipated sequel to the Adventures of Big Dog the Clown. However it revolves around the character of Liz Truss, and will use some terminology, so

Previous Reading

Important Terminology - Required Reading

What is a Whip?

How do Whips work?

Shadow Cabinet

Front Benchers, Back Benchers and the Cabinet

What do we need to call an early General Election?

The Adventures of Big Dog the Clown - Suggested Reading

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Elanor's Guide to Liz Truss - Suggested Reading

Character-based prequel

...okay I think that's everything. On with the show!

The Premiership of Liz Truss (2022-2022)

Week One

We begin our tale on September 5th, 2022. Coincidentally, that was also the date that I personally started my new job. Let's see which of us does better!

The Daily Mail is delighted, and runs a headline proclaiming "Cometh the hour, cometh the woman". Tory rag in a frock coat the Financial Times runs an op-ed:

So the results ARE IN! She will definitely fuck us up! But that's a good thing for vague reasons! Blitz spirit everyone. Tally ho, pip pip, shoot a servant and have sex with a wall, hey what. Good old Blighty.

(That's my best impression of Tories I'm good at their accents I hope you like it)

Truss does an interview with Laura Kuenssberg, and fellow guest and comedian Joe Lycett wildly and effusively applauds her every word. Even Liz realises no one would sincerely applaud her. Bafflingly, the entire right wing press and every member of the Tory party freak out about this, because they don't understand the function of a satirist and don't know how to defend against it. It is extremely funny. Joe Lycett announces he's a right-wing comedian now, and begins a new extended career bit effusively and sarcastically praising right wing politicians. They all cry extensively and call him mean.

SO, it's been a long hard leadership campaign! But she made it. For years, Tories have been blighted by the curse of the PM/Chancellor relationship, backstabbing and cheating and lying about each other to try and get power. But not our Liz, oh no; her Chancellor is Maths Mate and BFF Kwasi Kwarteng, an insipid and poisonous gnome known for three (3) things:

He once wrote a stupid book with Liz Truss about his stupid opinions on how he thinks economics work and everyone laughed at him and stuffed him in a locker

On the night of the Brexit vote he was overheard by a journalist gleefully saying “Who cares if sterling crashes? It will come back up again“ which are of course the words of a man who knows all about economics and how they work

This fucking bullshit back in July:

But hey IT'S OKAY! Everything is fine! Because Liz and Kwasi are BFFs who certainly never had an affair and are marching in lockstep and have each other's backs and both love maths more than their own children if they had any! Maths Friends!

Multiple resignations immediately follow.

Among them is Ben Elliot, the Tory Party chair, which is a pretty big deal from a man who just lived through the Johnson years; also, shockingly, Priti Patel, the deportation-happy Home Secretary, decides that even as an animatronic goblin she cannot support this nonsense.

It's not a resignation per se, but at ten to seven in the evening it's announced that Andrew Bridgen, the Troy MP for Leicestershire North West, has been evicted from his home and ordered to pay £800,000 in legal costs, and a possible £244,000 in rent arrears. Also described as "dishonest" by a judge.

This is not directly relevant to Liz Truss but look, it was a staggeringly weird day and this was basically the topper.

Anyway.

Liz goes to the Palace and is duly sworn in by the Queen, who promptly keels over and dies the very next day. Parliament is instantly shut down for mandatory mourning. As omens go, this one was not subtle.

This triggers the circulation of some very awkward footage of Young Truss talking about how she thinks the Monarchy should be abolished for being a gross relic of horrifying social stratification. However you must understand that it's not awkward because anyone thinks she murdered the Queen. It's because Liz Truss's attempts at public speaking are like sitting through a children's Christmas play when you're the only person in the audience and they can all see your face so you have to look encouraging for four hours when inside you are shrivelling into something approximating an apricot pit travelling to the core of Jupiter.

Take a look at her acceptance speech and wither.

Anyway we're now several MPs and a queen down so she's got to get on replacing those so she can focus on her real love: the much-anticipated mini-budget that she is preparing with Kwasi to save the UK from the harrowing quagmire of crippling poverty that Big Dog managed to drive us into (all while pretending it wasn't Big Dog who did it.)

Fortunately, she does not need to replace the queen! Monarchies take care of themselves, which many people would argue is very much the problem, of course. They had a proper reunion with Meghan From Suits and Meghan From Suits' husband, both of whom were banned from visiting Balmoral, and also the Nonce flew in, who was allowed to visit Balmoral. Such heartwarming scenes.

But the Cabinet, that's another matter. That's something Liz DOES have to do, and it's important she gets it right, Tumblrs, because you see, every time a Cabinet minister is replaced it's expensive and a hassle and it weakens a government by making them look all crumbly, like a packet of biscuits that's been rammed against a wall and now someone is opening it and everyone is bracing for Crumbs.

So, step forward to the Cabinet soulless ghoul Suella Braverman, the new Home Secretary. She immediately distinguishes herself by trying to legalise torture.

And then, naturally,

YEAH THAT'S RIGHT IT'S TICK TOCK TERF O'CLOCK also FUCK the sovereignty of the Scottish Parliament amirite ladies lol Girl Power uwu

Not that she can actually do anything at this point, of course. As I say: Enforced Mourning is in process, which means Parliament is shut down for ten days. No work, no speeches, no appearances, no announcements, just taxpayer's money going on legal fees to see if she can interfere with another nation's elected government in order to strip away the human rights of queer people.

However, while we all weep over the corpse of Queen Lizzie Two and beat our breasts in grief, the already-beleaguered pound is slowly bleeding out through this inaction. And this, to the Maths Mates, is unacceptable.

Two things get quietly slid into the news cycle.

Thing the First:

BIG YIKES LADS

Thing the Second:

Fracking ban in England lifted in bid to boost UK gas supply - BBC News

For those who don't know, fracking is an energy extraction process. Water, gas and dust are pumped at high pressure into shale bedrock to crack it open, releasing pockets of natural gas that can then be harvested for fuel. It's environmentally disastrous for multiple reasons, both direct (earthquakes, groundwater pollution, social impacts) and indirect (IT'S STILL A FOSSIL FUEL YOU STUPID CUNTS ARE YOUR SKULLS FUCKING EMPTY). The Welsh and Scottish governments have both banned it outright, a straight-up "Foot down no, petal". England, though, is the Tory paradise, so the ban was less complete.

However, this is still a Huge Deal - the 2019 Tory manifesto was very clear that fracking would only be unbanned IF "the science shows categorically that it can be done safely". In fact, most Tories don't like it either. Their constituents REALLY don't. Also in March Kwasi Kwarteng literally went on record and said it wouldn't lower European gas prices anyway; but not anymore! Now he thinks it's a zippy idea. Just spiffing. Top hole, pip pip (I'm so good at their accents :))

Scientists who have been studying the environmental impacts of fracking produce their report -

And it is quietly buried, so as not to offend the corpse of Lizzie Two.

Here ends the first four days of the Reign of Liz Truss.

Second Week

Anyway, royalists have gone insane and started a REALLY BIG queue to see a box that supposedly contains the rotting cadaver of the old queen. Multiple people have to be hospitalised because they join the Queue and don't take food, water, warm clothes, or essential daily medications with them, even though the Queue is literally days long. Some die. Many take the ashes of their own loved ones so they can wave them at the box for the thirty seconds they get to be in front of it, like a sort of play date for ashes.

Prince Charles, now King Prince Charles, starts swanning about as King, demanding everyone be sad for him and clap him to cheer him up. Someone holds up a sign saying 'Not my King' and gets arrested. This triggers a whole wave of protests and arrests as free speech slides out the window, until the Met Police chief has to step in and explain to the police like they're five-year-olds that they can't do that, actually, and need to cut that shit out.

But we can't wholly blame the police, because the main pressure to clamp down on protestors actually came from...

The government.

Meanwhile the country goes bat shit fucking insane. In order not to offend the fragile sensibilities of royalists, now so brittle they need to be treated with the same delicate touch normally reserved for unstable nitroglycerin, the UK sees supermarkets lowering the volume of self-serve checkout desks, people's funerals cancelled, vital operations and other medical interventions postponed, Centre Parcs cancelling holidays, FOOD BANKS CLOSING, Nintendo Direct cancelling its live stream in Britain (but not cancelling the release of the recording onto You Tube an hour later because as we all know Queen Elizabeth II was a MASSIVE livestream fan and would have been DEVASTATED to miss it but she was very 'meh' about YouTube), cycle racks being closed, and this unhinged shrieking harridan:

Very normal, lads. Very normal.

Oh and also they cancelled Owain Glyndwr Day so as a Welsh person I am now legally allowed to forcibly ram a daffodil into the urethras of the landed English gentry.

However, the protests grow as the suppression wanes. By the time King Prince Charles comes to Wales, he is met with silent protests, this guy who learned a sentence in Welsh specially for the occasion, and a petition to abolish the Prince of Wales title.

Except government is still shut down, so the petitions are all suspended.

But not to worry! That gives the Maths Mates more time to work on their special mini-budget.

Week Three

More of the same at first, really, but she finally addresses the nation to announce that the Queen was the "rock" on which "modern Britain was built".

Also someone finally spots that the necklace she always wears is a day collar, so that was fun.

BUT THEN

The moment we have all been waiting for, with baited breath.

On the 23rd September, 2022, the mini-budget finally arrives. The golden egg of Kwasi and Liz, their beloved, beautiful child, the crowning glory, the culmination of their economic beliefs and values. They are so proud of it, so sure of it, that they do not even submit it for the approval of the Office for Budget Responsibility. Why should they? This is the moment Kwarteng can finally show the world that he was right; that this is the way to do economics after all; that he alone in his brilliance and genius has reinvented the field and will lead the country to a new era of riches and prosperity.

And the pound does this:

Yikes.

Truss goes into hiding for a day and a half, during which time her aids claim all her relatives have died so she won't have to speak to the press, which is obviously a simply fantastic quality in a Prime Minister. Finally, she resurfaces by doing a series of radio interviews for regional stations around the UK, hoping they'll be easier on her, starting with Radio Leeds. The good journalists of Yorkshire eviscerate her and strew her corpse through Adel Woods. It's downhill from there.

Week Four

One poll puts Labour 33 points ahead of the Tories.

It can be a little difficult to translate polls, because the electoral system is complex, so I asked my journalist friends. They cheerfully informed me that, if translated into a General Election, the Tories would have just 3 seats left.

Except! Of course, naturally, that is me reporting naught but the most extreme result, Tumblrs, dancing upon the bones of my enemies as I chant the rites to make the Tory party die faster. If I were to be fair about this - and I am, of course, a journalist of Integrity and Morals - I would actually give the average poll result. And I am wise and fair to all, ancient rites aside, so I shall.

The average poll result is still 19 points ahead.

Tony Blair's landslide Labour victory in 1999 was 12 points.

Rounding off the day, Labour declare that they are backing a change to a proportional representation voting system in place of the UK’s archaic first past the post system. Funny that.

Anyway, that mini-budget is going poorly. Realising unlimited borrowing rather than tax cuts for the rich is maybe Bad Actually, the Maths Mates decide to get the money for their bail-outs some other way. Can you guess, Tumblrs? Can you guess where they decide to get the money from?

Naturally.

Week Five

In a fascinating little twist, the papers claim Liz banned King Prince Charles from going to the Climate Summit in Egypt. This is interesting for about a billion reasons, not least of which is that the papers seem very angry about this and yet also that it's an unsubstantiated rumour - the phrase "it's understood that _" gets a hell of a workout.

She then does not go herself. Makes sense. They'll probably be mean to her about the fracking.

She then loses the support of the Daily Mail, a paper that five weeks before were ecstatic about her rise to power :( so sad. But why? What made them change their minds?

Well. What else from Truss, but a massive and catastrophic u-turn on the economy?

And she does! The absolute nutter!

Plans to cut the 45p tax rate for those earning upwards of £150,000 were abandoned, as were:

abolishing the planned rise in corporation tax

cutting the basic rate of income tax

the two-year energy bill support plan

scrapping the planned dividend tax hike

VAT-free shopping for international tourists

freezing alcohol duty

easing of IR25 rules for the self-employed

ALL GONE! All gone. The mini-budget is not working so lol jk we'll think of something else, that's how government works, right? The pound promptly implodes further. Of all people, Nadine Dorries is the one to criticise

WE ARE IN A TOPSY TURVEY UPSIDE DOWN WORLD

The Daily Mail still finds a way to say it's all Michael Gove's fault, though.

Anyway, the 5th October dawns bright and beautiful and YouGov polls rural voters:

THIS IS HUUUUUUUUUGE, because farmers just will not fucking stop voting Tory, AND YET. Wowsers. Not just popularity. Voting intention. She might as well have personally infected every farm in the South Downs with foot and mouth disease.

Truss realises her popularity is plummeting and she needs a new audience. She tries to appear down with the kids and declares that she's the only PM to have gone to a comprehensive school.

This is not true. Gordon Brown and Theresa May both did. However, it's certainly true that all three of them became PM by ousting a sitting PM, so there's that I guess.

Week Six

At this point I can start putting in PRECISE DATEs just call ME Robert Peston.

13th October

News reporters start speculating that she'll be done by the end of the month as the first rumoured letter of no confidence reaches us. People realise that her competition for shortest serving PM was a guy who died in office of TB at about the four month mark RIP king sorry about your lungs.

(A reminder - normally, if MPs want to oust a party leader, they must send in 54 letters of no confidence. This makes the 1922 Committee - a bunch of back benchers who preside over this shit - hold a vote of no confidence. A leader who loses gives way - this is very rare. A leader who wins is then immune to another such vote for 12 months, but they almost always crumble within a month or two anyway - this is much more common.)

This is extremely funny, because a newly-elected leader of the party has a 12 month immunity to votes of no confidence, same as people who've won such a vote. Likes charge reblogs cast apparently. MPs are getting desperate.

Pressure mounts. Chancellor Kwasi Kwarteng announces that he is "Not going anywhere."

14th October

Chancellor Kwasi Kwarteng is sacked and blamed for the entire economic mess.

Incredibly, Liz does this without first planning a replacement, so it's several hours before Jeremy Cunt suddenly reappears like the spectre at the fucking feast.

Meanwhile here's Ed Milliband on Twitter

Seven and a half years he waited to retweet that. Seven and a half long years, look, to have the last laugh.

In the end, he still went too soon.

15th October

Deputy PM and also Health Minister Therese Coffey (side note - have they always doubled up in roles like that? Or are there just not enough of them anymore?) announces that she loves antibiotic resistance and dead kids and also breaking laws:

16th October

The Sunday Times calls for Extremely Corrupt Former Grand Vizier Rishi Sunak to take over, and then a General Election so that Labour can take the reins.

The SUNDAY TIMES

Calling for LABOUR

The Sunday Mail tries to stir up support for Ben Wallace taking over, because no one has heard of Ben Wallace so he needs the boost, but then accidentally publish their front page with a different man

In another YouGov poll for the Times, not a single political group, age group, area of the country, gender, or other demographic said that Liz Truss was the right choice for PM

This is the new predicted election graph:

Yikes

17th October

The projected election results are a Labour victory so complete the opposition would be the SNP. Legend suggests Nicola Sturgeon's cackle on finding out was so powerful she accidentally resurrected a witchfinder.

18th October

Meanwhile in the Senedd, Welsh Tory leader Andrew RT Davies, a sort of humanoid boil dressed in ham, tries to accuse placid and gentle First Minister for Wales Mark Drakeford's Labour of being responsible for long ambulance waiting times.

T'was a mistake.

youtube

19th October

Oh boy.

Well, first of all, Suella Braverman sends an official email from her private email address, and then promptly leaves the Cabinet at cannonball speeds as though she's seen a brown child about to be given citizenship. Was she quietly fired by Jeremy Cunt? Did she do it deliberately to resign? On her way out, she blames the true source of our problems - the Guardian-reading, tofu-eating Wokerati.

Nigella Lawson spends the day tweeting tofu recipes.

Meanwhile, Graham Brady, the Chair of the 1922 Committee, comes to Liz Truss to inform her that he has in fact now received 54 letters of no confidence. Normally, of course, that would be considered enough to trigger a vote in her leadership; but not now.

However, these are unprecedented times. So he changes the threshold - if half of the Tories send him letters, her immunity will be revoked.

But the thing is, Tumblrs, the thing is...

It is all about to kick off in the most spectacular and catastrophic fireworks since Guy Fawkes had a dream.

Because Ed Milliband, once accused of leading the country to chaos and now riding high on the joy of his well-timed Twitter jab of Some Days Ago, wakes this morning and chooses violence.

He has spotted, of course, that no one likes fracking; even the Tories are against it.

He has also spotted that Liz Truss is very stupid.

So he goes into the House of Commons, and he digs a big pit and covers it over with twigs and leaves so it can't be seen, and he bakes a big cake and he places it in the middle of the twigs, and he sets up a net to fall as well and a big stick of ACME dynamite, and he hammers in little signs everywhere saying CAUTION - TRAP, by which I am of course being metaphorical because what he actually does is table a motion to extend the moratorium on fracking. The signs aren't necessary, really. This trap is easy to avoid.

All Liz Truss has to do, you see, is not use a three-line whip on this vote.

The three-line whip, as you'll all recall, is the highest level of coercion. MPs cannot defy a three-line whip. MPs cannot even abstain on a three-line whip. MPs have two choices on a three-line whip: to vote as they're told, or to be removed from the party. You obey or resign. That's all.

For this reason, it's sometimes called a 'confidence vote', as it is effectively a stand-in for one. The vote is not about the issue at hand - this is now a vote of confidence in your leader.

(He's also laid lesser traps. Years back when fracking was first being heavily discussed, Ed was Labour leader and one of the main figures in those discussions. During today, before it all Kicks The Fuck Off, a Tory stands and challenges him on previous statements about fracking, trying to accuse him of hypocrisy.

He was fucking ready for it.)

Graham Brady pops his head back around the door. He's changed his mind - a third of the party is all that's needed now to trigger a vote of no confidence in Liz Truss. And legend says he's only 17 off.

This is presumably the reason for what comes next.

Liz panics. Liz sees she's desperately unpopular. Liz sees that she has to do something to shore up support; and she sees that her important fracking rule, which her party hates her for, is now being challenged by a former Labour leader, and if he wins (which he will) she'll lose all credibility and maybe they'll take her nice office away and tell her she was a Bad Girl.

And so, with the inevitability of gravity on the now-leaden pound sterling, she makes it a three-line whip, and a confidence vote in her government.

INSTANT CHAOS.

There is uproar! There is rage! There is blinding fury! Tory MPs are standing up in the Commons and snarling and pissing and moaning! No one likes fracking except Jacob Rees Mogg! For TWO HOURS they shriek and scream and gnash their teeth, yelling at Liz Truss, demanding to know why this is happening.

(Legend has it chaos-deity Ed Milliband simply leaned back, put his feet up on the chair in front, and made Christian Wakeford hand-feed him grapes and fan him with a palm leaf, but this is unsubstantiated.)

And then, at 6.55, FIVE MINUTES before voting is ready to begin, the Tory Minister for Climate Graham Stewart stands up and declares that everyone should vote how they want because it's not a confidence vote.

Did I say there was chaos before?

Lol. Lmao, even. Rofl, in fact.

Now Tories leap to their feet and basically all scream one long, unending breath of WHAT-DO-YOU-MEAN-IT'S-NOT-A-CONFIDENCE-VOTE-WHAT-THE-FUCK-IS-HAPPENING-IS-IT-OR-IS-IT-NOT-A-CONFIDENCE-VOTE and so Stewart gets up again and says, right to everyone's faces, "It's not for me to say whether it's a confidence vote or not," which is an even faster and more spectacular u-turn than Truss herself could pull off given that he literally just said it wasn't and did so while being a minister.

And then the voting starts. MPs are now milling about like chickens who've sighted the hawk, clamouring to know if they're going to lose their jobs unless they vote for Satan. The Whips - specifically Chief Whip Wendy Morton and Deputy Chief Whip Craig Whittaker - descend upon them like fucking wargs on the hunt. They don't just spit vitriol and blackmail into MPs ears. They fucking bodily drag people into the right voting lobby. MPs are legitimately screaming. Grown men are crying literal tears. Labour's Chris Bryant reports holding multiple Tory MPs as they sob into his shoulder. Multiple MPs report similar scenes.

And Tories still don't know if this is even a damn confidence vote, or if they should just knock the Chief Whip's teeth out.

And then the Whips, filled with bloodlust and frenzy, suddenly realise that NO ONE IS LISTENING TO US, YOU'RE ALL SUPPOSED TO LISTEN TO US SO WE FEEL POWERFUL -

Cue sudden meeting in a locked room with Liz Truss. For over HALF AN HOUR.

So is it a confidence vote? No one is sure. Deputy PM Therese Coffey thinks so, so in the absence of the Whips she decides physical assault is her job now and is seen by David Linden MP (SNP) physically carrying someone into the voting lobby. Jacob Rees Mogg thinks not and starts yelling "It's not a confidence vote!", to which his colleagues reply, "Fuck off." Meanwhile the Whips have possibly resigned, no one is sure. It is still uncertain if this was a confidence vote.

And Ed Milliband basks in the chaos, playing the fiddle while it all burns around him.

Finally, voting concludes. The Whips reappear to lurk.

The votes are in - the government wins, and fracking will go ahead. But.

32 MPs abstained.

And one of those is Liz Truss.

Which is WILD??!? What possible benefit could she get from that??? No one knows. Everything is uproar again. Guess who else abstained? Well, riveted reader, here's a list with important names highlighted:

Nigel Adams, Gareth Bacon, Siobhan Baillie, Greg Clark, Sir Geoffrey Cox, Tracey Crouch, David Davis, Dame Caroline Dinenage, Nadine Dorries, Philip Dunne, Mark Fletcher, Vicky Ford, Paul Holmes, Alister Jack, Boris Johnson, Gillian Keegan, Kwasi Kwarteng, Robert Largan, Pauline Latham, Mark Logan, Theresa May, Priti Patel, Mark Pawsey, Angela Richardson, Andrew Rosindell, Bob Seely, Alok Sharma, Chris Skidmore, Henry Smith, Ben Wallace, Sir John Whittingdale, and William Wragg.

Kwasi still smarting about that p45, I see.

In any case it then turns out that Liz DID vote, but incompetently, because her voting card didn't read properly, which is actually fair given that she was being screamed at by angry Whips waving Graham Stewart's severed dick and balls around while they demanded power and authority. While she's clearing that up, the press are understandably waiting open-mouthed for comment, but don't worry Liz! Your old pal Jacob Rees Mogg is here to fill in for you!

And thus it is that JRM willingly chooses to go on the live news and calmly confirm to the nation that no one knows if it was a confidence vote or not.

Chaos. Chaos again. Unbridled chaos. The Whips are furious. Everyone is furious. The rebels are now in limbo, unsure if they're now out of a job. Tories are weeping, trying to work out if Rees Mogg WANTS to sink the party. Back bencher Charles Walker MP delivers a frank interview to the press absolutely SHIVERING with rage, like the drummer in a Fleetwood Mac concert. Ex-Lib Dem leader Tim Farron, a bland man known only for the time he himself willingly chose to go on the news and calmly explain that he's a homophobe without provocation, tweets that Liz Truss is a Lib Dem sleeper agent they sent in to destroy the Tories, sparking what is likely to be a whole slew of conspiracy theories by next week. No one knows what is going on. They all decide to sleep on it.

The good folks at Wikipedia ultimately decide to make three separate pages for the UK 2022 government crisis, and to label them with the month "to leave room for another by the end of the year."

Ed Milliband skips all the way home, and treats himself to a bacon sandwich.

20th October

Okay, Liz thinks, the morning after. Okay. Last night was bad. But today will be better.

So first... the vote.

Because there's bad news for Tories who like money and good news for people who like liveable planets - there are problems with the vote. For one, the vote counts are being called into question. Are the results reliable?

For another, the Speaker of the House of Commons calls for an investigation into the reports of, um, assault. So will the result stand?

It's so unclear! And so is that ongoing issue of whether or not the damn thing was a confidence vote. Angry whips say YES, JRM says NO, Downing Street refuses to pick up the phone to the BBC, but does send ITV's Robert Peston a text at 1am to say it was definitely a confidence vote and, unrelatedly, the Whips aren't resigning :)

I think we have found the price paid to keep the Whips.

Meanwhile. Let's see what this has done for Liz's leadership stability!

13 letters of no confidence are confirmed submitted by Sky, 5 of which came in overnight. The 1922 Committee reconvenes the coven to discuss matters. Simultaneously, the One Nation Conservatives reconvene their coven to discuss the same. Presumably there is much "Girl what are YOU doing at the Devil's Sacrament?"-ing and "Same cloak, how embarrassing"-ing. MPs are CLAMOURING for her head. It is VICIOUS. It's like cartoon piranhas in a supervillain's lair; which is highly appropriate, because that's exactly what Tory MPs are.

Graham Brady, head jester of the 1922 Committee, demands to see Liz Truss.

He walks into a room with her, and the doors are closed. Half an hour later, he walks back out of the room.

Ten minutes later, she calls a press conference.

45 days after being appointed, Liz Truss breaks the record, and becomes the shortest-serving British Prime Minister.

#politik #the second clownfall of 2022

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burgeoning-ambition · 11 months

Text

Business Japanese Review Part One: Emails!

I'm not sure how many posts I'll make about Business Japanese, but probably more than one so I say the part one is warranted, haha.

Feel free to add anything or any questions in the notes! Like I said, this isn't a fully comprehensive infographic. Also, what do people think of the lined paper style background for the title page/intro? I think they look kinda cute for the introduction, but not for the informative parts...

One thing I will add that I couldn't fit on the slides: I think some textbooks don't have super clear distinctions between 「謙譲語Ⅰ」　「謙譲語Ⅱ」 and 「ていねいご」, so I only specifically mention 謙譲語 broadly here. Parts of 謙譲語Ⅱ and ていねいご are both described as "extra-modest" in some things, for example! Just keep in mind that my post is a simplification, and if you're interested in formal language, maybe start at learning all of the different keigo categories and what they involve!

Vocab list note: The set phrases in the greetings and closings are all comparable to set phrases in English for greetings and closings of emails. I'm putting these set phrases in their entirety in the list, with a comparable English set phrase as the definition. Do not take these as equivalent phrases! They have a similar feeling, but I am not asserting that they have identical meanings. I'm just offering something comparable in case it helps a person make more sense of them!

The full vocab list + a transcript of the post is under the cut!

Vocabulary List

試験（しけん）－　Exam, test

質問（しつもん）－　Question

食事会（しょくじかい）－　Dinner Party, Dinner Meeting/Lunch Meeting/etc.

お知らせ（おしらせ）－　Notification, Notice

会社（かいしゃ）－　Company

営業部（えいぎょうぶ）－　Sales Department

部長（ぶちょう）－　Section/Department Head

「いつもお世話になっております」　－　This is a basic email greeting, similar to "Good afternoon" or "Hello, [name]" even though the meaning doesn't match at all!

「だんだん涼しくなってまいりました」　－　Similar to "I hope this email finds you well"

さて　－　Now, Well, Then

謙譲語（けんじょうご）－　Humble Language / Extra-Modest Language

下記の通り（かきのとおり）－　The Following

返事（へんじ）－　Reply

「お待ちしております」　－　Similar to "Awaiting your reply"

「よろしくお願いいたします」　－　Similar to "Thank you"

「取り急ぎお返事申し上げます」　－　Similar to "Please get back to me soon"

申し上げます（もうしあげます）－　To Offer, To Extend (thanks, congratulations, greetings, etc.), To Do, To State（謙譲語）

以上（いじょう）－　Since, Seeing That, Above-mentioned

なお　－　Furthermore, In Addition

日時（にちじ）－　Date and Time

午後（ごご）－　PM (Time)

場所（ばしょ）－　Place, Location

集会室（しゅうかいしつ）－　Meeting Room, Assembly Room/Hall

#original post #japanese #japanese study blog #japanese langblr #japanese studyblr #language learning #langblr #studyblr #keigo #business japanese #japanese language

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aheathen-conceivably · 2 months

Text

Dearest Zelda,

First let me say what a joy it was to receive your latest letter! Truly I was so delighted upon seeing it in the mailbox that I ran straight for Isaiah. He is not one to worry, but when our latest contact to the address we had for you in New Orleans once again went unanswered, I fear even he had begun to grow concerned.

I am delighted to read that your silence was not without good reason, and to see the wedding portrait you sent of you and Antoine as well as the photo of your daughter. How she has grown since we last saw her! She is not much younger than our eldest now, who I fear every day is so like your brother there is simply no one thing in this world that can tame her.

It does sound like your Violette is much the same, and how much joy it brings me to think that perhaps it is Florence’s spirit manifesting through them.

Our youngest have also begun to grow like weeds, much to my chagrin. Does it ever seem like sometimes you awaken and it’s as though the grass has grown a foot overnight? That is oft how I feel looking at them, and Rosalie seems to desire all the independence of her namesake.

She wasn’t but a day over six when she began poking into Rosella’s old room, curiously pulling forth toys and books from the gathered dust like a miniature treasure hunter. Truthfully, I could not tell you why your brother and I had yet to bring the room back into the light of day. Once you took the portrait from it it was like a pall had lifted, but I feared that stirring it would upset your brother’s long-standing grief over your mother, so I daren’t say a word.

But as children often do, Rosalie saw little of that other than a space to call her own, and we have now finally found the heart through her to give it a new life. I do hope your sister would love to see her in there, playing dolls and writing grand romantic stories for them aloud to her ever attentive twin. It is a joy to see them rediscover the beauty in the world that pain often hides, is it not?

Have you written to Virginia as well? I fear she may not be quite as conscious of the time that has gone by. With the dissolution of The Women’s Political and Social Union, her work has turned increasingly to involvement with the Women’s Labor League, eventually coming to the attention of the Labor Party themselves.

I will admit that I am not as informed on the goings on of London as I perhaps should be, but even still it came as no surprise when the party nominated her as their candidate for Member of Parliament. As she so painstakingly explained it, the party itself has suffered great losses from their prominence in the 20s, what with the general bias of their associations with the communists and their seeming inability to stop the rampant unemployment that has taken hold even here.

I suppose she is fully aware that this was the cause for her nomination, as she was able to run more on the merit of her charitable associations than the negative reputation the party has recently taken on. Yet if she was surprised that this platform worked, she has never let on; but her work in the House of Commons has all but taken over her life since her election in 1931. How I do miss her and Wally, but that doesn’t stop me from wishing that she keeps her seat in the upcoming election of ‘35, even if it means we will see less of them than ever.

I imagine that what little free time she has is now spent nearby at Oxford, where Wally was accepted upon his graduation from secondary school. While I’m sure being the son of a governing member of parliament was not a mark against him, I have no doubt he was accepted there on the merits of his intelligence alone. Even from the small amount of time he spent here in his teen years, it was clear to me what a bright boy he was.

I am told he is majoring in physics there, a field that even in the briefest explanations Virginia has given me is quite beyond my comprehension. I suppose what else are we to expect with Virginia as his mother? I’m sure he’s had but the most informative, intellectual upbringing, even when it must have been colored by the high expectations that I can only imagine your sister set for him.

Despite her near constant work and best attempts to shield her vulnerability, there are moments when we speak and it seems as though Wally's departure brought forth much of the buried sentimentality within her. I suppose under it all she is but a mother like us all, proud of her child and yet sorrowful as his life grows beyond her own.

Before I sign off your brother has instructed me to ask you to include the most minute of details regarding your predicaments with the soil in your next letter. He has also asked me to attach a veritable field guide of advice, although I have told him that everything you have written points to the fact that you are in waters we could not navigate any better even if we tried.

I must admit that when I hear the word soil I think simply of the ground beneath verdant green grasses or darkened Bramblewood canopies. It makes me realize just how little of the world I have seen, but also how lucky we have been even in the throes of what seem to be such tumultuous times. I can only hope that such good fortune will last in England for many years to come, and that some of our knowledge may bring success to your efforts as well.

I must once again thank you for the photo of you and Antoine on your wedding day. We’ve placed it in our living room next to the photo of your mother and father when they were wed, as seems only right. In return I have also included a photo of all of us when we were last together to visit Wally’s new home in Oxford; although I’ll be the first to admit I do hope we spend the next high holiday together in Henford instead. Anything that close to London makes me long for the forest more than anything else.

Your mother once told me that she sent you every photo we took, and that you have been collecting them over the years. I hope this can make a welcome addition to such a tradition, and do always know that you are welcome here should you ever find need of solace in the place you once called home.

Your sister in marriage,

Summer Darlington

#1933 #sims 4 historical #ts4 decades challenge #ts4 historical #sims 4 decades challenge #the darlingtons #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy #sims 4 story #ts4 story #summer darlington #Isaiah darlington #Annabelle darlington #Virginia darlington #Wally Webber #1930s

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adonis-koo · 1 year

Text

wicked • 15

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 13k

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tags: jungkook really loves grabbing mc’s throat, dirty talk, breath play, dom!kook, possessiveness, clit play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation (m & f), vaginal fingering, squirting, wet humping...? is that a thing? slight size kink

Note:I’m so excited to announce chapter 15! I hope you all love it as much as I do, inbox is open for asks and I would love to hear everyones opinions bc im sure yall are gonna be feeling some type of way by the end.

“How dare you accuse my maid of such a thing!” You hissed out from your seat, glaring into Di Jin with a venomous glare, “She is no such thing as an assassin and you should be utterly ashamed of yourself for even thinking of such!”

Di Jin slammed his hands on the stable snarling at you, “Then tell me why she’s been missing from several of her shifts the last month? The only person who would be able to get into your room late into the night with guards posted would be her? There was a second attempt, was there not?”

You shook your head, trying to not let your jaw slackened at the blatant disrespect, “Because I authorized it! Her mother has been deathly ill over the last month and I’ve given her time to be away from the castle to tend to her!”

Di Jin’s nostrils flared as he leaned back in his seat, as he stared at you for a long moment as if a predator sizing its prey, “What a convenient cover, tell me Princess, have you ever seen this sickly mother?”

“I-”

“Have you taken the time to track your servant’s whereabouts when she had stayed out even later than you authorized?” Di Jin growled.

“I will not have my wife being interrogated,” The doors opened once more, Jungkook who had barely been held back on the other side had managed to break in once more, his father still arguing with him, “Not if I have anything to say about this.”

Dae Seong had yanked him back by the shoulder, “You’re going to listen to me boy! Let him do what he needs to if you value her safety at all.”

Jungkook had retaliated by grabbing him by the collar, yanking him closer as he snarled quietly, “If you value anything we still have then you’ll let me be by her side.” Jungkook shoved him away before swiftly walking up to the table.

Di Jin didn’t even attempt to watch their squabble as he stood up from his seat, hands on the table as he leaned in, “Or have you knowingly let her do this?”

“Oh yes,” You sneered standing up as well, challengingly glaring back, “It makes much sense that I’d be the orchestrator behind my own attempted assassination. I may be an outsider and I may not know all the in’s and outs of Penumbra but I will not sit here and let you dictate to me who I am or who my servant is!”

Jungkook puffed a breath in satisfaction at the tongue lashing you were giving the old codger as he went to wrap and arm around you, “We’re going, if you’re finished.”

Di Jin’s nostrils flared at the interruption as you took Jungkook’s hand which had been extended in an offer to help you out of your seat.

“This isn’t over Princess.”

Your eyes burned into his, “You’re right,” You placed your hands on the table as you leaned in closer to him, your voice deathly quiet, “This is just the beginning Di Jin, tread carefully where you walk in these halls.”

Jungkook’s arm found its way around you once more as you allowed him to guide you out of the room, anger visibly trembling off your body as you tried with every breath to calm yourself down.

“We need to speak to the others.” You forced your voice to quiet as you both stepped out of the frigid room.

“I’ve already asked Taehyun to retrieve them all, we’re meeting in Namjoon’s quarters.” Jungkook answered steadily, “We’ll get her back Y/n.”

“I can only hope.”

“It just doesn’t make sense,” Namjoon shook his head as he looked through the records that covered the small table of his office where everyone sat, “It does look incriminating,” He frowned at your pitiful state as you rubbed your forehead, “And it doesn’t help that you’ve given her unsupervised access outside the gate’s Princess.”

You sucked in a harsh breath as you shook your head, “Had I known Di Jin was going to do this I would’ve had someone go with her…Is Taehyung’s word nothing? He helped her mother after all.”

“Seer’s are not allowed into politics and worldly affairs.” Jungkook shook his head, his hands resting on the arm’s of his chair but seemed to twitch at the way you restlessly shifted in your seat, sitting a hair too far away for his liking, “Even though Taehyung can consort with us in private, his words would be seen as invalid to the court.”

This made your lips quiver into a frown, the one person who could possibly save her was considered…invalid?

“Not only that but Taehyung could potentially jeopardize his position on the Guiding Hand if he tried to speak to court.” Hoseok chimed, leaning back in his chair in thought.

“And if Di Jin snoops about and Taehyung chooses to speak out regardless, he could accuse Taehyung of being another accomplice of hers, putting him in a cell right next to her.” Jimin seemed painfully sullen, his hand resting on his cheek as he frowned.

“What about her mother? Surely we could speak to her?” Hoseok asked.

“They’ve taken her into custody as well,” Jimin replied once more looking as though the whole situation disturbed him, “By possible accomplice of her, and since her mother has been cured of blood rot Di Jin suspects it was never there to begin with.”

Just his words made your hands curl in anger, “This is ridiculous!” Everyone looked at you as you hissed the words out, “What is the meaning behind this? Truly? There has to be an ulterior motive from Di Jin to accuse her of such a thing.”

It was silent for a long time before Namjoon sighed, “Many things are hidden to us right now, perhaps for a reason. All we can do is focus on freeing Wheein.”

“Still,” Yoongi grabbed his chin, “It would be worthwhile to see Wheein’s mother, and someone should speak with Taehyung about this, I’ve yet to see him since the whole incident.”

“I’ll speak with him,” You volunteered yourself, “I’m sure he’s taken the news hard, and I’d like to see too it personally to assure him that we’ll find a way to keep her safe.”

“I’ll go with you then.” Jungkook also spoke up, “Taehyung has likely not taken the news well, and knowing him he’ll want to speak with me directly.

You frowned at this, your heart dully aching at the thought, “The least I can do is apologize to him for letting this happen.” You looked away from Jungkook as you heaved a deep sigh, “This is my fault after all.”

You just wanted to be kind…especially when it was something you could help with, how could it end this way? Wheein had been nothing but kind to you the moment she introduced herself, and this is what she got in return.

Had you been looking at Jungkook you would’ve seen the way his fist curled, aching to reach out to you, to do something, anything to try and ease the severe stress and guilt you were under right now.

It was silent for a long moment before Jungkook spoke, thinking over his words carefully before he redirected himself to the men at the table, “Namjoon, I want you to look back in past schedules of who was on rotation during the nights Wheein went out and I’d like you to speak with them if you feel they’re allegiance is with the Jeons.”

“Hoseok I want you to keep track of Di Jin from now on, try to be covert about it and Jimin…” Jungkook looked across the table at Jimin who seemed to be staring at the wall, as if purposely ignoring the prince, “I know…your relationship with him is distant at best…” Jungkook frowned, “But if there’s any way you could talk to him, make him believe you're on his side…we need to figure out why he’s doing this.”

“Jungkook…” Jimin sighed softly, looking at war with himself and for a brief moment you were confused until you remembered the words Wheein ushered to you many months ago.

‘Jimin was the bastard son of the Head of the Guard’

The pieces were all slowly fitting together, Di Jin having been the old head of guard, which meant he was Jimin’s father…You sunk in your seat, oh dear what a mess things were quickly becoming…

Jimin relented, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.” Jungkook’s words were sincere, “There’s nothing else to discuss at this time, don’t let me hold you all from your duties.” He waved to them all as everyone stood up, yourself included as you made your way to the exit.

Yoongi opened the door for you as you quietly thanked him before stepping out, an odd absence filling your chest at the realization that Wheein was no longer escorting you to where you went, nor would she stay with you when you asked her too.

The rest of your day felt like a void, you still had your duties to attend to the project in the Market, you had to talk and be social with various businesses, walking them through their future new stores and making arrangements with various vendors about what to get for each shop.

The day had passed before you knew it and yet all you could think about was Wheein, her tear stained eyes and whimpers when you saw her.

It snapped your heart like a twig to even think about, out of everyone, why did Di Jin have to choose her as his target? It just didn’t make sense. And you firmly believed you were not being fooled here, Wheein had been easily the kindest person you had ever met in Penumbra.

Arriving at your and Jungkook’s room it was quiet and chilled in the room making you tremble as you shut the door, only a few candles lit making it difficult to see as you glanced around, realizing you had nobody to help you change.

Your eyes glossed over as you inhaled sharply, you could call for another maid, you should call for another maid. But your stubbornness wouldn’t let you as you stretched your arms towards your back, trying to haphazardly undo the back making your muscles begin to ache and twitch as you huffed.

This went on for several minutes before you finally stopped and frustratedly dropped your arms letting out a quiet sob as you pressed your hands on your eyes, the one person who you trusted with your entire being was being falsely accused of your own attempted murder.

Stress filtered your body once more as you hurriedly tried to push back your tears at the sound of the door opening.

Jungkook had a handful of papers he was reading through when he walked in at the unsightly mess of you halfway dressed and the unmistakable look you always had when you were crying.

He lowered his papers as he looked at you for a long moment.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Your eyes filled with tears once more before you finally gave up trying to hold them in, closing your eyes as you defeatedly let the warm tears trickle down your cheeks.

Jungkook sighed, setting the papers down at the desk before he walked over, “You look pitiful.” Standing in front of you he gently cupped your cheek, pushing the tears from your cheeks, “You should’ve called for a maid.”

“I have a maid!” You hissed out, “And she’s in a dungeon right now for something she didn’t do!” This made you weep once more as you shook your head, “Why would they do this Jungkook? Why? I don’t understand! There isn’t a soul sweeter than Wheein, why would they claim the assassin was her?”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook frowned, “But if I had to take a guess, it’s because they want to place distrust among us from the inside,” Jungkook replied steadily, “If we can’t trust even our most loyal servants, how can we trust each other? The seed of doubt eventually blossoms in its own time. I’m not sure how, but the Rosewood’s are most likely the cause of this.”

He gently turned you around before he began to undo the back of your dress, albeit a bit clumsy, but with patience the material slipped off.

“Not only this but if we let this distract us they might be stirring to do another attempt soon.” Jungkook frowned as you turned to face him, “If you die in Penumbra it’s going to trigger a shattering throughout the entire continent. War will be all we know until we’re the last kingdom standing.”

“If that's what it takes for Wheein to live I will gladly die.” You inhaled sharply.

“You will not.” Jungkook grabbed your chin harshly, his eyes glaring into you at your words, “I know you miss her, but crying about it and being unnecessarily self sacrificial isn’t going to get her back.”

His words stung, and the prick of hurt they caused made you shove his hand away, “You may be right but you don’t have to be so cold about it.”

Jungkook tucked his tongue into his cheek as he scoffed, “Well princess, somebody needs to tell you, otherwise god only knows what you’ll do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean!?” You snapped back, not appreciating his bluntness right now, you had come to terms with the fact that Jungkook was nothing like that last love you had known, Seokjin was always dripping in honeyed words and sweet nothings.

He loved to coddle you and dote on your feelings. Jungkook did no such thing, you had for the most part become accustomed to this, but in these moments of vulnerability it stung having your feelings coldly told to stop.

“It means the last time you let your feelings overcome your logic this happened.” Jungkook snapped, grabbing your hand and lifting it as he shook it, the marks on your hands still freshly healed and scars evident, “You were unconscious for two days Y/n. Two days! If you hadn’t been so emotional you wouldn’t be wearing gloves every time we step out of this room.”

It was silent for a long moment as you snatched your hand from his grip as if he had been the one to burn you, eyes watering now but they were glaring at him in hurt and anger and he let out a long sigh, as if realizing he perhaps, went too far.

“As a Eunoian, we are kind and expect no kindness in return. You might look at me as nothing more than an emotional woman, but I would never turn anyone away who needs my help, that is not who I was raised to be, that’s not who I am. Yes it scarred me and no I may not remember all of those events, but I know I helped, I know I made a difference even if it was only for a few people and I will not let you stand here and chastise me over it.” You stared at him for a long moment indignant.

How could he stand here and insult you like this?

Jungkook looked away from you with a briefly strained expression, and you were familiar with it because he always made that face when he was holding his tongue, it made you scoff, “Well you might as well say what you want too, go ahead, get it off your chest since I’m being so emotional.”

“You know what you sound like right now Y/n?” Jungkook chucked bitterly, “You sound like a martyr,” He pointed a finger low at you, “Nobody is asking you to do that here, not a single person. Whether you like it or not you’re the Crowned Princess, your life does matter more then a peasants because the whole fucking world decided to weaponize the little Eunoian Princess nobody would dare hurt as a political tool to make us heel like a bitch.”

Your lip twitched at his words, “Oh I’ve been well aware for the last three damn years what I am to the world! Don’t stand here and try to educate me on that, I knew from the moment I was told I had to marry you that my life didn’t matter more than just being a good bitch to the crown!”

Your eyes watered once more, “That’s what you said on our wedding night and you were right. But it doesn’t change what I believe or how I feel and if that makes me a martyr then so fucking be it! I watched as my own people sent me away with smiles on their faces all pretending as if they hadn’t exiled me from my own country as if I hadn’t given up my studies as a young girl to aide as a healer during the five year war as if I wasn’t allowed to eat if the people were hungry and when we were supposed to celebrate our holidays, we stopped to mourn the burning piles. I knew since I was a child that my life didn’t matter to anyone aside from what I could do or what I could give.”

“It fucking matters to me!” Jungkook’s patience had finally worn, you were suddenly pressed against the wall, his hand wrapped your throat with the most delicate grip as his forehead pressed against yours, “Don’t you get it you stubborn, hard headed woman? Your life matters to me, I don’t care about any tradition or belief you have if it has anything to do with dying. I just got you, I’m not letting you go.”

It was silent for a long moment as you felt his thumb tenderly trace against your windpipe as you sniffled.

“You could’ve just said that without picking a fight. And you didn’t have to be so mean,” Your eyes stung with tears, “Your words do hurt, I know crying won’t get Wheein back, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m terrified of what they might do to her.”

Jungkook’s expression softened ever so slightly as you closed your eyes, a few stray tears trickling down your cheeks, “I would never cry with anyone else like this, so let me do it with you, let me share the deepest parts of my heart with you, my deepest fears and concerns, my doubts and insecurities. You say you want me, that you don’t want to lose me, then show me you want me, all of me, even the parts you don’t like, even the parts you hate.”

“I could never hate you.” Jungkook ushered out quietly, his hand moving from your throat to your cheek, “I’m sorry.”

He kissed your tear stained cheek somewhat hesitantly, “I’m not used to navigating feelings, or emotions, or women…” This made a small smile tug on your lips, one he mirrored briefly as his hand moved to your chin with a little squeeze, “But you talking about willingly letting yourself die makes me upset, anxious and angry, the rest of the world might look at you as nothing more then I tool but I don’t. So value your life, because I know I’m not the only one who feels this way, Wheein would be the first to agree with me.”

It made your lips quiver painfully as you glanced down, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be a martyr, but I would do anything to get her back Jungkook,” Your throat strained painfully “Anything.”

Jungkook kept having these impulses every time he looked at you when you were sad, and he hadn’t noticed it until today, but finally, he caved into the feeling of just wanting to hold you.

His arms wrapped around you, letting your head bury into the crook of his neck, your body relaxing into him as he pressed a kiss against your head making your arms squeeze around him tighter, “I know.”

You were already scared and upset with the whole situation, you didn’t want things to be worse if you and Jungkook couldn’t settle your own arguments in the process.

You had hoped maybe a good night of rest would make you feel better, but opening your eyes had only made you feel worse and Jungkook had taken a bit more of a gentle approach today at trying to get you out of bed.

“We’ll need to speak with Taehyung before the morning is over.” Jungkook laid beside you as you tugged the blanket back over your head, rolling your back to him, “He’ll be busy tending to whatever the Seers do during the day. Y/n,” He sighed in exasperation, “I don’t mean to sound like a cunt when I say this but sulking is not going to help. And refusing to talk isn’t helping me.”

Your hands curled around the blanket as you relented with a sigh, “I just…feel overwhelmed by everything, life has to continue on even if Wheein is in the dungeon and even if Di Jin keeps harassing the castle.”

You turned back to face him, “It’s not that I don’t want to do something about it, it’s that I have so many other things I don’t want to do that I have to do, that so many people are counting on me making sure I get it done. It’s hard to be enthusiastic about starting the day knowing I can’t dedicate all of my time to finding a way to help Wheein.”

“There’s only so much you can do about that situation regardless princess,” Jungkook wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest as he buried into the crook of your neck, “I’ll make sure everything goes accordingly with Wheein.”

You still let out a sigh, curling a little at his hand dragging from your waist down to your thigh as he whispered in your ear, “You wanna know what will make you feel better princess?”

“What?” You mumbled, your curiosity peaked at his tone.

“An orgasm.”

“Jungkook!” You immediately sat up right as you twisted around at the cheeky grin on his face, “This is what you want to focus on when we’re in a situation like this!?”

Jungkook shrugged, “Well I don’t see anything wrong with it, as you said before, life has to continue on and I’m being honest,” He sat up with you, “The first step to getting anything done is letting yourself relax, this is stressful enough as it is, you shouldn’t make yourself anymore taxed then necessary.”

His lips attached to your exposed shoulder, your thin slip that you seemed to wear more often to bed these days didn’t do you much service as the thin strap fell off your shoulder. He moaned softly into your skin as his hands slid to your waist, “Let me make you feel good. Consider it another apology for last night if you must.”

You felt obligated to say no, feeling guilty for even feeling desire at the moment when you were in such a perilous situation, but your head betrayed you, slowly tilted upward to expose your neck as his kiss traveled up, leaving a small trail of love bites along the way.

“Is it…really okay to do this?” You whispered.

“Only if you’re comfortable.” Jungkook pressed a small kiss on the lobe of your ear, “We don’t have too, but I do think it would make you feel better.” You glared at him playfully as he winked.

You shifted a little before you sighed, “Well, what would you have us do?” You shifted a little nervously, there would never be a perfect time to get further intimate with Jungkook, and you would admit, something to take your mind off of things would do you some good, even if for a few minutes.

Jungkook sat up before letting his back rest against the headboard as he gestured you closer, confused you scooted a little closer to him only for his hands to attach to your hips making you squeak in surprise at the way you were suddenly jostled.

You were roughly manhandled into his lap with your back pressed into his chest once more as he pressed another tender kiss to your neck, “Tell me Y/n, have you ever touched yourself before?”

The question caught you off guard making you sputter, “I- what?” You could hardly focus at the sight of his hands resting on top of your thighs, how could you be married to him for nearly nine months and only just now realize how big his hands were.

His fingers were long and thick and his palms were rough and calloused against your soft skin, his fingers curled around your inner thighs, “Have you played with yourself before,” Jungkook let a wicked smirk curl on his lips, “You can’t tell me you haven’t ever been curious about your body.”

Had it always been this warm in the room? Because it felt like you were burning up at the moment, “I mean yes but- I wouldn’t…Call it playing.” You tried to not squirm in his hold as he suddenly parted your legs, your night slip hardly covering your panties.

You had been curious about your body in the past sure but you had never really understood the idea of sexual interest, and therefore you never took part in it, not understanding what the big deal was about.

Jungkook let out a hum as he let his hand stroke from your inner thigh that had you twitching, to your night slip hooking a finger against the fabric as he lifted it, it didn’t take but a small movement to reveal your panties, a shameful damp spot revealing how much your body was receiving him.

“You like this?” He teased lightly, a hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing lightly making a breathy noise escaping you and your legs instinctively parted further for him, “You like putting your cunt on display for me?”

“Jungkook…” You had to shut your eyes at the lewd sight, your shoulders scrunching in embarrassment, why did he have to be so crass?

“Take your panties off.” Jungkook’s voice a few tones deeper and a little raspier than normal as his grip on your throat tightened making a more strained moan escape you shook your head, “No?” He snorted at your defiance, his free hand stroking your thigh down to your cunt making you jump before he cupped it, his palm digging into your clit making you whine out sharply.

Your hips lifted immediately, trying to grind into his hand unsuccessfully.

“If you want me to play with this pretty clit you have to take the panties off sweetheart,” Jungkook said, amused at the sight.

“Jungkook, this is embarrassing!” You whined quietly to him, “What if somebody were to walk in right now?”

“Let them.” He scoffed, “See if I give a damn who watches. In fact I hope somebody does,” Jungkook’s grip suddenly tightened on your throat making you wheeze a heady moan as he growled in your ear, “So they can see who you belong to. I wasn’t lying when I said this was my cunt, so take off the fuckin’ panties and show me who it belongs too.”

The sudden guttural demand in his voice had you scrambling to obey as you shaky fingers curled around your panties, peeling them off before you awkwardly kept your legs closed. This however changed quickly at Jungkook’s hands, once more finding their way to your thighs as he pried them out making you whimper out at the cold air seeping against your cunt.

“Fuuck.” Jungkook moaned against your skin and you could feel his heavy, thick cock harden against your lower back, “Your soaked baby. Look.” He didn’t give you a choice as he grabbed you by a thick chunk of hair making you whine as he forced you to look down.

Your face felt like it was on fire at the sight of your body contorted in such a lewd position, your cunt was indeed on display and for a brief moment you couldn’t think of something more unsightly than this.

This was what men were attracted to? Your lips were puffy and parted covered in stickiness, pubic hair sticking out unfrayed and your clit was engorged, throbbing at just the fact you were actually able to look at it.

Jungkook’s lips pressed in your neck with another moan, “Fuck princess, you have such a pretty cunt, and nobody has ever played with it at all?”

“No,” You whined out, “I already told you Jungkook, I’ve never been with someone intimately, at least for myself. Do you have to..stare?” You felt self conscious on display like this.

“When it looks good enough to eat how can I not?” Jungkook scoffed, his free hand unable to resist the urge to drag along your sticky slit, your cunt puffy and wet as his fingers reached your clit.

A moan suddenly strangled through your parted lips, whining softly at watching his digits circle your clit as your hips buckled into him with another whimper as he moaned, “Fuck baby, you’ve never touched your clit?” He said it as if he was genuinely in confusion at how you possibly couldn’t have touched yourself before.

“I have,” You whimpered out, “It just didn’t feel good.” It didn’t feel like this, that was for damn sure, just watching his fingers skillfully glide over your clit at your back trying to arch, before they quickly started rubbing back and forth, playing with your clit like it was a little toy.

Jungkook switched from that to suddenly squeezing it between his pointer finger and middle finger, making another raspy, desperate noise escape your hips started to lift up to chase after the friction, “Jungkook please! Please don’t tease me.” You whimpered out desperately.

Jungkook chuckled at this, releasing your clit from his fingers just to pinch it once more with his thumb and pointer finger, “You’re so needy, every time I try something new you moan even louder.”

He pinched it even harder making you yelp at the painful pleasure that washed over you before he roughly circled it again, “Keep moaning sweetheart, it lets me know what you like and what you don’t.”

That's when you realized he meant what he was saying, his eyes were low but inquisitive, as if trying to figure out what made you tick, what made your body squirm the hardest, what made you moan the loudest, your body was a map he was determined to not only study but memorize.

Your hand frantically found his as you whimpered, “Right there! Kook, right there! Please.” The pleasure had your muscles clenching as the pad of his finger kept rubbing that sweet spot on the side of your clit that had your back arching and whines becoming increasingly loud.

Jungkook chuckled in your ear, “Look at you, using my hand to make yourself cum, that’s a little greedy for a Eunoian. Are you gonna cum princess?”

He watched, mesmerized by the way your body contorted and bounced as you grinded against his fingers, which were completely soaked in your arousal as he feathered his pad over your sweet spot.

The straps to your slip had finally fallen to your shoulders, causing your top to finally slip down, making your tits fall out as you fell apart on his fingers, your eyes squeezing shut and your body convulsing at the pleasure that was blossoming so quickly in your cunt.

“Cum baby, I know you want to.” Jungkook teased, “I know that little clit feels good, let yourself cum princess.”

Jungkook let out a grunt at the sight of your lips falling slack, moans suddenly ripping from your throat as you whines became high pitched, hands suddenly clawing at his neck, yanking at his hair as you came.

“Mmm what a good girl.” Jungkook moaned into your neck, his cock throbbing so hard he felt like he could pass out, it was one thing to imagine these types of moments with you, but to actually be able to experience them was a different kind of pleasure he didn’t even know could exist.

Your mind was so hazy from your orgasm you hardly noticed his fingers stroking your cunt before a single digit circled your entrance, playing with it a little as Jungkook carefully coated his finger in your arousal before he pushed in it.

“Ow!” You suddenly yelped in a very unsexy way, jolting up right and out of your hazy post orgasm feeling as you whimpered out at the sight, “Jungkook! Ah…! It hurts!” You whined in complaint, his finger felt foreign inside of you and just like you knew, it was thick and bigger then your own and the stretch made your cunt dully ache.

“Wow, so Seokjin really never touched you?” Junkook said it as if he was examining to see if you were actually telling the truth.

You lip curled as you snapped, “Did we not establish that I was a virgin on our wedding night? Why are you so hyperfixated on this?”

“Because,” Jungkook rested his chin on your shoulder, pulling his finger from your cunt making you sigh in relief as he dragged it back up to your clit, tapping it, “The idea of anyone- let alone him getting to see this makes me want to travel all the way to Kimhae and fucking kill him.”

He pushed his finger back in but much to your surprise it didn’t hurt, you seemed almost taken aback by this, watching in morbid fascination as his thick finger sunk deeper into your cunt, your legs parting a little further for him.

You moaned quietly at his finger testingly pushing up before he thrusted it a little inside you making you whine as your hips lifted and lowered a little to chase the feeling.

“Just the idea of him getting to see this pretty little fucked out face makes me livid,” Jungkook whispered, unable to even be angry at the moment before of the expression your wore, your pupils were blown out and your lips parted at the sight of his finger now rhythmically pumping into you before he pushed a second one in.

It made you wince at the uncomfortable fit, before Jungkook pulled both fingers out and pushed them back in making your lips tremble at watching them sink deeper and deeper into your cunt, your walls clenching around him as he buried them both until his knuckle were flush against your skin.

“Fuck…” You whimpered out, closing your eyes at the overwhelm of being able to feel his fingers so deep inside your cunt, Jungkook, “‘s not fair, wanna make you feel good too…”

“Sweetheart, shit, you are so fucked out on my fingers, imagine what it’s gonna be like when you’re taking my cock.” Jungkook moaned in your ear, feeling your walls wrap tight around his fingers at his words as he pumped them in a little rougher, making a point to rub his fingertips against the top of your walls.

It felt as if he was searching for something and you didn’t realize what it was until you felt it, his fingers pushing particularly deep this time, hooking as pleasure suddenly shot through your body making you lurch and a loud moan rip from your lips.

“Fuck there it is, that’s it sweetheat.” Jungkook’s fingers viciously began to attack this spot, rapidly lifting into the spot as his thrusts began short and rough.

The pleasure had you contorting in painful positions as you whined slurred words out, “Wanna make you feel good too, Kook! Please, please!”

“Dammit sweetheart, this is supposed to be about you.” Jungkook growled in frustration at how hard his cock was because you kept moaning about this.

“Wan’ it.” You whined out moaning loudly, his fingers unforgivingly hooking into that spot roughly, you could feel his other arm against your back maneuvering in awkward ways and though you were very pleasured it was difficult to not notice.

You didn’t understand what he was doing until you saw it, or more like it saw you. His cock suddenly appeared just inches below your cunt, it bobbed a little, smacking against you making you jolt in shock, even with pleasure still blossoming in your body your mouth dried.

It was so…big

You had felt it before but you had never seen it, and it was so thick and fat, just like his hand, his cock had the prettiest thick vein and it curved just slightly, his head was fat and bulbous, a painful shade of red showing just how hard he had been this whole time and precum kept dribbling from his slit.

“You wanted it that fuckin’ bad.” Jungkook grabbed your hand before, guiding it past your cunt to wrap around his cock, “Wanna’ feel that wet little cunt.” He guided your hand to give it a few tugs, before he lowered your body a little, your cunt pressing against the top base of his cock, making you let out a breathy moan.

His fingers started properly thrusting into you once again as you body twitched, eyes nearly rolling back into your head at the stimulation of the feeling of his fat cock being covered in your arousal, your hand giving sloppy, frantic tugs against his cock making him moan into your shoulder.

Your hips quickly start trying to rut into his as you grabbed his hand, forcing his fingers out of your cunt as you rubbed it against his shaft, letting your clit press against it with a loud whine, reaching down to squeeze his fat balls.

“Fuck, fuck fuck baby, ‘m gonna cum.” Jungkook moaned into your neck as his hips started to rut into you, his eyes hazily watching his cock slide between your glossy lips, arousal messily covering his cock as his tip roughly dragged over your clit making slurred moans escape you.

“Wan’ you to cum.” You mewled out watching in desperation at the idea of this being inside of you, how would you even be able to take it without being torn in half? His fat tip reached your belly button.

Your hand wrapped around his cock, holding it against your cunt as Jungkook’s hips became more frantic, “Gonna fuckin’ cum all over you if you keep saying that sweetheart.”

“Cum! Cum, cum please! Wan’ you to cum all over my cunt.” You whined and begged at the sight of precum dripping from his tip.

Jungkook swore out with a growl, his hands digging into your hips, “Bet you wish this was your cunt right now I was fucking, this little cunt is so tiny I don’t even think you could take half of my cock sweetheart.”

“Kook!” You whimpered out at his forceful, frantic thrusts, one hand lifting your leg up further as his fat tip rubbed past your clit once more.

“Oh don’t worry baby, I’ll fuck you in this exact position.” Jungkook smirked wickedly against your neck, “I’ll make you watch every fuckin’ second of it too. Fuck princess,” He moaned his hips began to slow, eager to drag out the last moments before he’d finally cave, his cock sliding through your lips once more, he could feel your engorged little bud as he bulbous tip rubbed against it making you whine before let out a deep moan.

Cum spewed from his tip as your mouth dried at the sight, his thrusts stopped in nirvana but your hand kept tugging his cock in awe, wanting every last drop he had to offer as he moaned wetly against your skin.

His thighs clenched as he moaned, “Fuck princess, that’s it, yeah fuck, just like that.” He moaned encouragingly in your ear as you stroked his shaft, causing another gob of cum to spill from his tip, this time dribbling down onto your stomach as you reached down further to play with his fat soft balls while using your other hand to tug at his base.

“Fuuck baby.” He moaned into your skin his cock trying to soften but he showed now signs of stopping you despite the increased sensitivity before a spurt of cum shot out before he started swearing out, biting his lip as the pain and pleasure heightened.

Jungkook let out a breathy moan at the pain of your hand wrapping around his cock, roughly thrusting as he jolted and jumped but at no point did he stop you, in fact he seemed to enjoy the pain and just like magic, you watched his cock start to harden again.

Growing just as monstrous as it was before.

You moaned raggedly before you shifted a little, setting yourself upright before dragging your cunt along his shaft, your hips dragging against it with a loud moan as Jungkook growled out, “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum again baby, relax.”

You let out a breathy giggle, collapsing your back against his chest as you spread your legs once more, resuming your original position as you pressed his cock back against your cunt, pumping it rapidly, his muscles twitched rapidly before his hips caved.

Roughly thrusting up into you again as his cock slid between your cunt once more before cum suddenly spurted once more, covering your already messy stomach in even more cum as you moaned, gently tugging his cock to coax more cum, it dribbled and leaked, not nearly as big of a load this time as Jungkook moaned his hips swiveling to prolong his orgasm.

His cock began to soften and his hand suddenly grabbed your wrist to stop from trying to get it up again, “This was supposed to be about you,” Despite his post orgasm haze he still growled in displeasure, “Fucking brat.”

One moment his hand was wrapped around your wrist, the next it had released it and shoved two fingers inside you, suddenly fucking you hard and fast making you whine out loud, his thumb somehow managing to rub into your clit causing your back to arch and a loud moan to escape.

“Yeah? Doesn’t fuckin’ feel good after the first one.” Jungkook taunted you as he roughly thrusted his fingers inside you, his thumb teasingly circling your sensitive clit as your thighs twitched, your eyes glued to the way he was buried knuckles deep into your cunt.

“Fuck, fuck, kook, ah…! Ah.” Your whines were getting louder and louder much to his delight, your walls getting tighter and tighter each time his fingertips jammed into your g-spot and his thumb found that sweet little spot on your clit with each pass.

“Doesn’t feel nice cumming so fast does it?” He growled out, “Go, cum like you made me. Get it everywhere. Can feel this little cunt squeezing around me, you gonna squirt all over the bed? Bet you don’t even fuckin’ know what that is babydoll.”

The pleasure was becoming so strong it started to become uncomfortable in your cunt, your walls suddenly began to rapidly relax and squeeze at each of his fingers thrusts, his fingertips rubbing into your g-spot and his thumb dragging over your clit.

“Feels weird! Kook’ ah..! You whimpered out, body frantically contorting and your cunt blossoming in a weird pleasure.

“I got you sweetheart,” Jungkook moaned in your ear, “‘s gonna feel so good princess, c’mon ‘s gonna feel so fuckin’ good.”

You rapidly shook your head, your walls rapidly clenching and your muscles spasming as Jungkook’s thrusts became short and rough, his thumb rubbing rough circles into your abused clit, “Cum.”

The single word made a scream rip from your throat, tears tricking down your face as you came, liquid suddenly spewed from your tiny hole as Jungkook moaned, “Good girl, fuck, get it everywhere baby, fuck yeah, that’s it.”

The pleasure was so intense you were in tears, sobbing out moans as his fingers pulling out of you, to rub your clit making you throw your head back against him before his fingers shoved back inside you rapidly thrusting making more liquid spew from your hole as your body convulsed, “F-fuck!” You cried out loud.

You were positive you blacked out for one blissful moment before Jungkook released his fingers from you with a long moan, his hands comfortingly rubbing down your waist.

“Fuck princess,” He kissed your neck with feathery kisses, “My good girl did so good. Good girl.” Your eyes felt heavy at the feeling of his kiss.

Just his words drew a whine from you, his hands coaxingly rubbing your thighs as he pressed a wet kiss against your neck, “Mm, we need to get dressed.”

“You can’t just do this to me and then leave me.” You whimpered out, grabbing hands to wrap them back around you once more.

Jungkook snorted at this, another kiss traveling further up your neck, “We’ll be leaving together in case you forgot.”

“I don’t think I can walk.”

“You are, without a doubt, the most stubborn women I’ve ever met.” Jungkook mused, “And possibly more than I ever bargained for.”

You could indeed walk, though a bit awkward at first while Jungkook helped you dress, it didn’t surpass your eyes, the tug on his lips in amusement with every wobble or need to grab his shoulder to stabilize yourself.

If this was the aftermath of him only using his fingers, you can’t possibly imagine when he…Just the thought made you suck in a deep breath. Jungkook eyes flickered to your form, your arm hooked around his as you both made your way through the castle.

“Have you noticed?” He asked, eyes lingering on you only for a moment longer before looking ahead once more.

You could only assume he was insinuating at everyone’s stares and whispers.

“It’s rather difficult to not.” You muttered.

After exiting the courtyard and passing through the meadow to the entrance of the forest, only after you passed through the tall oak tree’s, did you feel you could breath. The sound of birds trilling and the sun lazily peaking through the naked branches gave you a sense of peace you had nearly forgotten about it.

Leaves crunched beneath your feet as your eyes wandered over the vastness of the forest that seemed to stretch on and on, now that the tree’s were naked it seemed the forest was so much more barren than before.

“Does it look like this? In Eunoia?” Jungkook asked, noting your gaze that seemed to wander.

“Somewhat,” You admitted, “Winters are mild at best in Eunoia- at least in comparison to Penumbra. The most we get is a bit of a frost on the coldest days, just enough for leaves to fall- not all though. Many still stand their ground.”

“Frost on the coldest days?” Jungkook’s head snapped to look at you as if you said something bizarre.

This caused a reluctant smile to tug on your lips as you curled your arm around his further, “Yes, some have called Eunoia the capital of the Sun. Our days are always sunny and warm, we’ve never known a true winter.”

“I can tell,” Jungkook replied, his eyes drifted from yours to your attire, “Is that why you’re dressed like it’s already snowed?”

You looked down at the thick warm sleeves of your dress,they were dramatically long, going far past your hands though a slit made it easy to use your hands if needed, the color a deep maroon that could be mistaken for black if one didn’t pay attention.

“There was frost on the ground this morning.” You replied, a huff escaping your lips, “I suppose the odd looks the servants gave me when I requested my winter wardrobe make sense now.”

You were too embarrassed to admit you were still cold, even in a winter gown, your dress even collared around your neck, making you feel admittedly strangled but any warmth was welcomed.

“How will you survive winter here if you can’t make it past the first brisk frost without one of the thickest gowns in your wardrobe?” Jungkook mused, making you glare at him, a pout sporting on your lips.

“Thickest gowns? This?” You gestured to yourself making him chuckle as he shook his head, “Well that simply won’t do at all, I’ll go to the seamstress myself if I must, I may be married into Jeon royalty but I don’t carry your northern blood.” The pout was still prominent on your lips, “Your brisk day is one of Eunoia’s coldest days, need I reiterate?”

Jungkook shook his head but the smallest of smiles tugged on his lips, “As if you didn’t have enough gowns as it was, I’ll be sure to let the seamstress make your request known.”

“Well you’re the one that handles my wardrobe,” Your pupils narrowed, “Now that I think about it, why shouldn’t I be the one in control of it? After all, I am the one wearing them.”

“Because i’d like to think in someways-” You gasped at suddenly being pushed against the thick, tall oak that stood proud, “You enjoy giving me control.” Jungkook’s hand snaked around your head, grabbing a fist full of hair as he gave it a small yank, “If your display this morning was anything to go by.”

“Jungkook.”

It was not your voice who said his name however, within a second Jungkook had let you go, the air around you both sobering by the second as Jungkook looked over his shoulder, “Taehyung.” He nodded, a frown setting on his lips as you somewhat flusteredly brushed off your dress.

Just seeing the look on Taehyung’s face made a tidal wave of guilt wash over you. How could you stand here and act like a girl with a crush when someone’s life was at stake?

You peered from behind Jungkook and one look was all it took for the sickening feeling to rush back into your stomach once more, Taehyung looked vehement, his eyes tired and anger evident if his icy glare was anything to go by.

“Have you both come to celebrate? Now that you’ve finally captured the assassin.” Taehyung’s lip twitched as his eyes burned into you.

“Celebrate?” You echoed in hurt, immediately stepping past Jungkook, “Taehyung I would never celebrate this! We are doing everything in our power to get her back I-”

“Well you were the one who let her go to begin with,” He hissed out lowly, his glowering from his hooded figure, “How am I to know that maybe this wasn’t just a calculated tactic?”

You felt your throat dry at his words, it was one thing to handle Jungkook when he was being unfair to you, but how would you deal with another? Let alone one of the first of Penumbra’s kin to show you kindness.

“Calculated tactic?” The hurt in your voice was evident, making Taehyung’s nostrils flair.

“Yes, after all rumors of you-”

“Enough.” Jungkook’s voice cut through the air like ice, an arm wrapped around you pulling you closer to his side, “We’ve come in grief and sobriety to apologize this is happening and that we are going to get Wheein back. I understand you’re upset, within reason to be,”

Jungkook’s pupils narrowed as his voice grew as cold as the chilled wind that blew by, “But heed your words to my wife and your future Queen.”

You were too stunned to even speak, hurt still expressed on your face at the insinuation that you had purposely done this to her, you would never!

Taehyung’s lip twitched, “Is that a threat, Your Highness?”

“My words are plain,” Jungkook replied, his eyes cutting low, “Take them as they are, we’ll leave you to be.”

“That would be for the best.” Taehyung’s hood lowered if only a little, those gray eyes glaring into you and even when you walked away from him you could feel his gaze burning into your back.

To say you were horrified, was an understatement.

While Jungkook did not wish to depart with you he had reluctantly done so, but not before trying to ease your distraught at Taehyung’s words, what was he going to say if Jungkook had let him finish?

It made you anxiously pick at your nails, hardly able to even focus on your book as you heard a voice clear making you glance up. Namjoon gave a small bow and a sad smile, “How have your studies been coming along Princess?”

“Terribly,” You admitted with a sigh, “How do you not let something consume you Namjoon?”

It was a rhetorical question you had been asking yourself all day as you stared up at the ceiling, murals of battles painted in glorious displays, ones you had seen while walking in but had never paid attention to until now.

“I think,” Namjoon paused as if to gather his thoughts, “Love is a worthy contender to be consumed by.”

This made your gaze shoot back down at him as you cocked your head to the side as he smiled wryly, “Apologies, I enjoy a good tragedy every now and then. Love can consume, but it can also save, you should honor your emotions where they’re at. These are unprecedented times.”

“That is a particular choice of words.” You mumbled staring down at your book but no matter how hard you tried, words were simply words, not a sentence nor a passage that gave your mind any relief to its occupied thoughts.

“They are, but it’s the truth,” Namjoon frowned as he looked away, “Princess…” He paused as if debating his words, “Many things are afoot right now, the expansion on the East has officially been put on hold, the west is stirring with restlessness, and now Di Jin has been enlisted to reopen a fresh wound of Mabon.”

“What is it you are trying to say Namjoon.” You sighed as you looked up at him, you wished everyone would stop speaking to you in riddles, why was it you could not hear Taehyung’s full words? Even if they were hurtful, you had the right to know.

“I am saying…that though we may not fully understand why these things are happening, to be prepared Princess.” Namjoon gave you one last smile before he stood up and gave you a small bow before departing.

You sank further into your seat as you let out a small sigh, “Fucking hell.”

“That kind of language is not befitting of a Princess.”

You jumped upright in your seat once more at the voice that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, your eyes darted to your right where the beautiful- yet ugly sight of the Rosewood Knight Claudin appeared from.

“Are you here to just mock me?” Your voice grew cold as your eyes glared at him, time may have moved forward but his attempted assault on you and siding with Seohyun was not easily forgotten.

This made a thin, snake like smile tug on Claudin’s lips, “Anything but, Your Highness.”

Your hands slowly curled into fists as your patience wore thin, you had been known by your family to have a temper your whole life- this was without a doubt true, but to consider violence? This was a first, and right now Claudin’s face was looking more and more like a punching bag each time he spoke.

“You’re tired of everyone speaking to you in riddles? Isn’t that right?” Claudin strolled closer to you making you frown but did not speak further. He paused for a moment only to smile once more, your curiosity was piqued.

“Then let me speak plainly to you Princess,” He kneeled down in front of you, “Penumbra’s trust in you is failing, immensely with each passing day. They no longer trust you. Dare I say some never did.”

It was an ugly truth that made you want to vehemently deny it, “What have I done to warrant this!? I have done nothing but try my best to become a Penumbrian.”

“I know Princess,” Claudin’s voice is oddly soft, as if laments for you, “But it is not what you’ve done, it is what Eunoia has done.”

“...What of my homeland?” You frowned, your gaze weary and catious, could you truly trust anything that came from this man’s mouth?

Jungkook hadn’t mentioned anything about Eunoia to you.

Claudin frowned at this, “I thought you would’ve heard Princess…” He paused for a moment as if gauging your reaction, “Eunoia has enlisted their kingdoms people into fortifying an army with Kimhae.”

“Eunoia would never-”

“I am merely telling you what’s been running rampant on the streets,” Claudin replied calmly, still kneeled at your feet, “Telling you what nobody else dare does, you want plain words, here they are. It’s come across to Penumbra, that Eunoia is conspiring with Kimhae. Why else would they need an army?”

“What source did you get this from?” Your lip twitched in anger.

“Source?” Claudin smiled in humor, “This is common knowledge Princess. Or has the Prince just really kept you this in the dark? And from your own kin at that...”

You don’t even know what possessed you in the moment but your temper had finally gotten the best of you, slapping him right across the face, “Enough! I won’t listen to any more of these lies of your weaving,” You stood up, towering over him as you glowered, “I don’t know what game you’re playing Rosewood, but it’s going to get you killed.”

“But these are not lies Princess,” Claudin gritted his teeth, his hand grabbing your wrist making you try to yank away, “If you do not believe me, then perhaps you should go out into the streets yourself. Learn the truth nobody else in this castle will tell you.”

You only managed to escape his grip from wringing your hand from the silk black glove you wore. The material still in his hand as you briskly walked out of the room.

What did he know anyways? Eunoia, conscripting an army? Only the coldest day in hell would see that through.

Even long into the night you still laid awake, mind restless as you shuffled in bed, laying down as you glanced at the dark hair of your husband who had been exhausted from the day, soundlessly sleeping beside you.

His hair was darker then you remembered upon first meeting him and it was a fair bit longer too, now brushing over his lids as he slept, moving a little as if discontented, his hands extended out in reach of something.

Your eyes stared at his hand, only an inch away from where it had been resting on your waist previously before you had shifted for a little space to move about without disturbing him.

Just because you couldn't sleep didn’t mean he didn’t deserve too.

Had he really been withholding information about Eunoia from you? You had been aware from the beginning that being in the castle kept you isolated to a certain degree, and that you would slowly become out of the loop of politics of the outside world due to being an outsider and Jungkook’s wife.

But you…something swelled in your chest, there was no denying you and Jungkook had grown close over these last few months, if you both sharing a bed willingly every night was any assumption to go on.

So surely he would’ve told you this information had he known it, and he would have to know this, because he was the Crowned Prince, heir to the throne, which meant, Claudin was surely lying.

Yes, Claudin was simply lying to get under your skin and weasel his way to further his agenda, whatever that was.

You closed your eyes contented, intending to shuffle a little closer to Jungkook once more, who’s brows were pinched, still in a sign of discontentment.

‘Meet me in the Fool’s Barrel at past 2 if you seek the truth’

Your eyes snapped back open at the memory of the single sentence left on a piece of parchment at your nightstand earlier before you finally got up, quietly standing before you glanced back at Jungkook, the night was long after all, and surely he wouldn’t miss you in the time you’d be gone.

With that you shuffled through your wardrobe for something suitable for the occasion before going over to Jungkook’s side of the bed, grabbing the sheathed knife from his stand before pressing a gentle kiss atop of his head.

The parchment was rolled tightly in your grip and your dull brown hood was pulled low as you managed to sneak out during the guards rotation and Yoongi was talking with a fellow guard at the corner of the corridor.

The halls were dark and dim and just as this morning you felt stifled here, at the gates of the courtyard did you finally consider that this was reckless, if not entirely stupid.

Did it truly matter whether you knew or not?

Your hand nearly crumpled the paper in anger, it did matter to you, it was your right to know what people thought of you, good or bad, and nobody had the right to keep that from you.

Your hand ghosted over the dagger strapped to your waist before you fixed your hood once more stepping outside the gate.

The tavern was lively and bustling, unshocking for this hour, nobody paid you any mind with your hood as low as it was, unsuspecting that they were amidst their princess, searching through the tavern, the very same one you had made a total fool of yourself in earlier in the year, you found the person you were looking for.

Claudin was leaned against one of the wooden beams, a hood on himself and a cat like smirk coiling on his lips as he held up your missing glove, “Here to take my offer Princess?”

You snatched it from his hand, “If you so much as even put a hand on me, I will slit your throat.” You whispered to him.

This made him chuckle as if amused, “So the Eunoian bitch really does have a temper to match the title. Follow me Princess.”

The Eunoian Bitch.

You weren’t that familiar with the title until you had come to Penumbra and your husband had made you well acquainted with it, and though you never inquired further about it to Wheein it wasn’t difficult to tell how the title had come about.

You wouldn’t deny your temper, Jungkook had gotten to see it in full force when you first married, the title once upon a time insulted you but you had grown past it at this point, you wouldn’t be insulted, it seemed men loved to call you a bitch because you were not a pushover.

Men were allowed to throw tantrums all the time without the blink of an eye, Dae Seong was living proof of it and yet nobody gave him a title for it.

You had followed behind Claudin closely as he exited through the backside of the tavern and led you down the increasingly narrow halls of the city that you didn’t even think existed, it was as if he was leading you to something of secret.

And after Claudin had weaved and webbed his way through these increasingly dark and unsettling alleyways did you realize, this was exactly what he was doing, you heard the commotion before you saw it.

Exiting the alleyway to reveal a well lit area of what looked like a crowded market place, though the stalls could hardly be seen as such.

Claudin looked up from his hood towards ahead and then at you, “Welcome to the Underside. If you want information, this is where you shall find it.”

Your eyes had gone wide at all the spectacles as you followed beside Claudin, fixing your hood a little lower as you watched a man breath fire from his mouth and the loud cackling of women before the shouts of a thief that shoved between you both.

It was clear, you were in the belly of Penumbra’s criminal activity, just the thought made your hand ghost over the wickedly curved dagger strapped to your hip. You had never shed blood other than your own before, you had taken an oath to never kill when you had first become a healer during the five year war, not only this but as a part of the royal family of Eunoia you had to vow that not only would you never kill but you would never devour as your earlier predecessors once did.

You could hardly stomach the sight of watching someone be killed, let alone killing someone yourself, but Penumbra had a certain way of hardening you these days. After all, you did just threaten to slice Claudin’s neck open if he tried anything on you.

This was unsafe, and surely reckless, but you wanted answers and you wouldn’t back out now to get them. Claudin seemed delighted by the sternness in your expression, refusing to back away from the danger of this perilous situation as he guided you through the rowdy streets.

Rounding the corner there was a crowd ahead making you tilt your head as you glanced at Claudin who only nodded ahead, both of you coming closer to the spectacle that you immediately deduced was a mockery of…you.

Your lip twitched in simmering anger at the mockery dress and hair of a man who’s voice pitched high, annoyingly so as he flounced about with the narrator, vacillating between ditsy and vexing.

“This is how they view you,” Claudin leaned in at your side as the crowd cackled at the man, “A predator dressed as prey, a Eunoian spy, here to cause our downfall.”

“Now whatever shall our Bitch do!? Attempted murder afoot but wait! What is this between her breasts!”

Your expression was deadpan as you watched the man grab a scroll from between his fake set of breasts, one even falling out revealing a bundle of cloth making everyone gag, “Ahem!” He coughed out high pitch, unrolling it as he read, “Oh dear husband! It appears my kingdom is on our borders! How could you not have seen? This was my plan all along!”

They placed a crown on his head which warranted boo’s from the crown, “Down with The Eunoian Bitch!” Someone cried from the crowd.

You shook your head unable to watch any longer as you brushed past Claudin, eyes darting between the various sights on the streets, a group of four men continuously kicking a young boy, the prostitute against the wall with a man, and on the far side a crowd of people cheering as they threw darts and knives at wall, a poor imagine of your face as the target.

“You’re upset.” Claudin followed after you with a remark.

“Of course I’m upset!” You hissed out, whirling around, “I’m being accused of something I didn’t do! My entire country is being accused of something we didn’t do- haven’t even done! Take me back to the castle.”

Claudin shifted his foot with exasperation but was cut short with the cold metal pressing into his neck, “I said take me back to the fucking castle, now.”

Claudin held up his hands in a mock of surrender, “You and your husband share an odd similarity of barbarously threatening me.”

Your lip twitched and your grip on the blade didn’t relent, “Maybe if you weren’t such a cunt that wouldn’t happen to you. Castle. Now.”

“If you so wish, my Princess.” Claudin resisted no more as you sheath your weapon following stiffly behind him the whole way home.

A spy…they thought you were a spy sent by Eunoia? You had learned to ignore the slanders thrown your way, but to have your whole kingdom’s credibility question? As if Eunoia didn’t house the fallen kingdom of Seoul? As if Eunoia wasn’t held responsible and damn near torn apart by the continent when Penumbra raised?

It was beyond just an insult, it was treasonness to even think about it.

The castle was…much busier than when you had left, Claudin departed with you at the gates as you dismissed him, arriving by yourself only to swear at the sight of your knight walking towards you with hell's fury.

“Where the hell have you been Princess!” Yoongi hissed out, grabbing your arm vehemently, “Do you want the Prince to kill me?”

“Shit,” You ushered out, “What’s happened?”

Yoongi gritted his teeth, “You mean to ask what’s going on after you snuck out past hours without telling me or anyone else, let alone your husband, what’s going on?”

You deserved to be reprimanded, you knew that much but that didn’t mean you wanted to deal with it, you groaned, “Did he call for a search?”

“Of course he did, Jungkook nearly had my head on a pike when I told him I thought you were with him,” Yoongi ran a hand through his hair, “Where were you?”

“...” You said nothing for a long moment, your expression troubled as you sighed, Jungkook was not supposed to wake up to find you missing, how were you supposed to tell him you went into the depths of a crime ridden area only to discover many ugly truths tonight, ones he had most likely kept hidden from you.

“Where did you go Princess?” Yoongi ushered, now concerned.

“I went to the Underside.”

“Fucking hell!” Yoongi ran a hand through his head again, “Do you know how incredibly stupid that was! Without anyone to protect you!? Penumbra may not be as pious as other kingdoms but rumors still run rampant.”

“Yes,” Your gaze grew cold, “I’ve become aware as much.”

Yoongi frowned at this, and you could tell by the look on his face he knew, they all knew, didn’t they? “Come along Princess, let’s get you into the parlor, the others are trying to keep Jungkook from ripping the city apart to find you.”

You felt a stab of guilt at his words as you followed alongside him into the castle where residents all gawked at you as you kept your hood up, covering your face from their judgmental looks.

Yoongi weaved his way through the corridors before the doors of the parlor were opened, the first person to whip around being the distraught figure of your husband.

“Y/n.”

Your hood was pulled down before he immediately embraced you, his muscles which had been previously tensed had relaxed as he pressed a kiss against the top of your head, “You worried me sick,” He chastised you, “Where did you go? You should’ve told Yoongi- better yet taken him with you!”

Jungkook cupped your cheeks as he pulled you away a little to inspect your face, making sure you were uninjured, “I’m sorry,” You mumbled, lips quivering only a little in both hurt and confusion at everything you were digesting.

“Where did you go, Y/n?” Jungkook asked you once more, this time his voice was a little more calm, releasing you upon hearing you try to clear your dry throat.

Walking over to the table where a pitcher of water was, you poured yourself a glass, glancing between your husband to the two other figures in the room, both his aunt and uncle, Areum and Jeong Dae as the least wanted person at this time walked into the room.

“Ah what coincidental timing.” Di Jin had walked in behind you, everybody's eyes staring at him for a long moment, “Because I just received word that the Princess was spotted coming out of the Underside.”

The room erupted into worse chaos then you could have expected. “My wife would never step foot in that pit you caused.” Jungkook snarled out.

“It’s true.” You muttered, unable to see the two men baring teeth at one another and despite your low tone it caused silence throughout the whole room.

“Out. The lot of you, these are matters for the family only.” Areum’s voice followed after you as her eyes narrowed on both your friends and servants alike and with that everyone departed.

“Feeling honest, are we Princess?” Di Jin looked haughty at you.

“Y/n,” Jungkook’s voice was wrought with anger, though it was obvious he was trying to keep himself calm, “Why?”

It was like the dam you held your anger in snapped out, rushing out and into every vein in your body as you slammed your cup down, “Why don’t we talk about how everyone’s been keeping me in the fucking dark!”

Everyone looked taken aback by your heated glare, “Talks of Eunoia raising an army and sending me as a spy while consorting with Kimhae!?” You spat out glaring at all of your in laws.

And the oddest thing happened, it could’ve been a trick of your eyes, but you could’ve sworn you had seen Jungkook visibly flinch at the words.

His eyes were like steel as you glared at him.

“And you knew it! Didn’t you?” You pointed an accusing finger at him as he looked away from you.

Di Jin let out a loud laugh bringing your attention to him, “Well let’s be honest here dear, everyone in this room has suspicions of you being a spy.”

“Stay out of this.” You snapped, “My affairs with my husband are no concern of yours.”

“Oh but it seems they are.” Di Jin had a sneering smile on his face as he held up the paper he held in his hand.

“Di Jin.” Jungkook’s voice was low in warning.

You snatched the paper from his hand before Jungkook could even stop you walking away from him and closer to the fire, the only noise being the snaps and crackles as everyone looked at you tensed.

The more you read the tighter your grip became as Di Jin spoke, “Interesting, how even your husband assumed you were a spy? Was it not?” He hummed innocently, “I’ll be watching you very closely from now on girl, lest a case of treason be opened against you.”

Your eyes only glared down at the paper, Jungkook’s royal emblem no mistake and the date an even harsher blow to your heart as tears of wrath began to blur in your vision, “Leave. Now.”

Di Jin frowned at this, perhaps hoping for a more expressive reaction from you, as if he was trying to get you to dig yourself a hole, but you would not submit yourself to that, you would not allow him to weave his little web of instigation any further.

“You heard her Wolf.” Areum frowned deeply, walking to stand in front of him as her eyes burned like coals, “Your duties are done for the evening..”

“You're welcome.” Di Jin sneered one last smile before exiting.

The door shut quietly behind him as your lips quivered and your nails nearly torn through the paper, trying to calm your breaths down but truthfully, you were rendered speechless. Everything you had become accustomed to, the delicate, tender blossom that was slowly growing between you and Jungkook felt as if it had been abruptly yanked from the ground and stamped under a boot.

Jungkook had grown anxious at your expression, you were abhorrently livid, if your body language was anything to go by, “Y/n,” He finally sighed out, “What did you expect me to do? It’s no secret that the court has doubted you from the very moment-”

“This isn’t about the fucking court!” You hissed out, every ounce of self restraint thrown out the window as you marched over to him, “This isn’t about Di Jin, this isn’t about anyone but you! What the fuck is this!?” You cried out shoving the parchment into his chest, pain wrought in your expression, eyes glaring with rage and betrayal, “After everything we’ve been through together!?”

You ran your hands though your hair trying to calm down your rapidly beating heart, tears vehemently stinging your eyes as you shook your head, “I’ve have bared my soul to you, again and again, I- I have tried my best to understand Penumbra, your culture, you. For months! And I…”

You closed your eyes, letting the defeated tears trickled down your face, “I genuinely believed that you…” You couldn’t even bring yourself to say the words that squeezed too tightly in your throat, a sob finally bubbling from your lips, “Why!?” You whimpered out, finally staring at him, “Why did you not tell me about Eunoia? Or the rumors, or…or any of it!”

It would be one thing if he had this investigated when you had first arrived in Penumbra, but he didn’t, this was recent, too recent. All of your fresh memories with him spiraling in your head, the intimacy you had nervously shared with him.

“Because, what if it was true?” Jungkook’s jaw clenched, “I don’t take any pleasure saying that Y/n! But I needed to be sure that you weren’t playing a game with me.”

Your lips trembled in disbelief as warm tears dripped down your face, “No I said those words to you!” You pointed an accusing finger at him, “I asked you those same words and you looked me in the eyes and lied to me!”

“I wasn’t lying to you!” Jungkook immediately hissed back, “I’m not in a forgiving position! I needed to know you were on my side for certain and those words I said were not a lie! I don’t expect you to understand, nor do I expect your forgiveness, but I did what I had to do!”

You stared at him for a long moment in disbelief, tears dripping down your chin as Jungkook sighed, cupping your cheeks as he brushed the tears away, “I’ve meant every word I’ve said to you, and the feelings I have, it’s all real.” He pressed his forehead against yours, “But you can’t expect me to have zero doubts in your credibility, you were going to marry the Prince of the kingdom that took great pleasure in slaughtering my people.”

“That isn’t fair Jungkook!” You tried to bite back your sob, your heart as if it was being torn to shreds, “Everything you’re saying isn’t fair! You know it isn’t!”

“Life isn’t fair and it isn’t kind Y/n,” Jungkook frowned at the new tears that dripped down your face, “I’m only sorry that I’m the one having to tell you this.”

“Fuck you!” You spat at him, shoving him away, “Paint it how you want, but it doesn’t change what you did, you choose to not trust me. You choose to have me investigated and you choose to look me in the eyes and tell me this was not a game to you.”

“Y/n-”

“No.” You snapped sharply, looking up at him as your voice trembled softly, “Me and you, we’re done. You’re right, you don’t deserve my forgiveness nor my understanding. The only thing we have left is the fact that we’re both bitches serving the same crown. You are nothing more than a liar Jungkook.”

“You don’t mean that.” Jungkook shook his head, his jaw clenching.

“I mean every fucking word.” You seethed.

You turned around, shoving the doors open to the room as you shoved the tears from your eyes, everyone had looked at you in baited breath but you only walked over to Yoongi, “Take me to my room. My room, please.”

Yoongi had parted his lips but said no more, doing as you asked as you shoved the tears from your eyes, trying to pick up the broken pieces of your heart that laid cracked and shattered from Jungkook’s heartless words.

He really was as wicked as they said he was.

#bts #bts fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader smut #jungkook scenario #bts imagine #bts x reader #bts au fic

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ellipsiseffervescent · 7 months

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I am once again going to talk too much about Rebellion

and how people don’t understand Homura. Here I would like to address the reasons why people call Homura evil/the antagonist, which is usually their reason for disliking Rebellion. My blog has basically morphed into an obsessive discussion on why that movie is my favorite and elevates the story, so I’ve covered a lot of these topics before, but I hope to make things more comprehensive here.

I’ve seen some people call Homura “corrupted” by the part of her that is a witch. Two thoughts on that:

Rebellion goes out of its way to show you that witches are not inherently evil. They have experienced serious pain and are spreading that pain before Madoka’s sacrifice. However, if this meant that witches were inherently evil, then why are Sayaka and Nagisa not? They are still witches- that’s why their witch forms are still a part of them.

Also, in Rebellion, Sayaka warns Madoka’s essence to not fear Homura, as “she’s the one who’s most hurt”.

I think that people misunderstand the theme of what a witch is overall. A witch is an inevitable reality of magical girls because being a girl in a patriarchal/Kyubey system is CRUSHING. The transformation into a witch is a coming-of-age step into womanhood. It comes from the culmination of mistreatments and systemic oppression girls inevitably become overwhelmed by. This isn’t to say that all women are forever overwhelmed, but it is an unpleasant reality that most women become awoken to. Think of the resolution of the Barbie movie, for instance, where (BARBIE SPOILERS) the characters need to “wake up” the others to the suffocating reality of living in a patriarchy. Same principle, honestly.

I also think that people sometimes interpret the Christian imagery in a stereotypical “good vs evil” way than looking at the situation, especially when it comes to Homura’s demon label and Madoka’s sacrifice.

I’ve talked about this a lot so I won’t go into too much detail, but I believe that the series is going out of its way to create its themes around the dark reality of the self-sacrificing nature of girls. For a brief recap:

Making wishes for someone else is considered taboo

Madoka mattered as a girl. Throughout all iterations of pmmm and its sequels, Madoka laments on the tragedy of magical girls vanishing from the world without anyone knowing and says in Rebellion that she would never want to go anywhere where she couldn’t be around her friends and family. Her mom had plans for them when Madoka grew up, her brother remembers her, and it drives Homura insane that she’s the only person who remembers the other timeline. Madoka was always worried that she wasn’t good enough at anything to have a place in the world and I truly have a hard time believing that this series is saying that young girls who don’t feel they have value anywhere else are best served to sacrifice themselves into oblivion. That’s basically been the history of women, forever.

Homura calls herself a demon because, “[Madoka] was sacred as a god and I couldn’t help but pull her from heaven and undermine her.” Throughout the Wraith Cycle, Homura commits herself to honoring Madoka’s sacrifice and new world order, so the phrase “and I couldn’t help but pull her from heaven undermine her” is, I think, more of a reflection of her self-loathing for going against Madoka’s wish and less of a true admission of evil, because I don’t think that Madoka’s erasure from the world was ever an okay thing. I think people get too hung up on “demon-bad” without thinking of the nuances of the imagery. I don’t believe that Madoka’s godhood is inherently good, and I don’t believe Homura’s demonhood is inherently bad. I think that Madoka’s godhood is more an alignment with self-sacrifice, and Homura’s demonhood is an alignment with desire, and I think that too much of either is a bad thing. It’s why they both needed to come together to eviscerate the Kyubeys.

I think that the label of “demon” makes Homura irredeemable to people and I think that people are deeply unforgiving of the not so pretty things that make us human. I’ve seen that a lot of what I assume are younger users are completely unforgiving to girl characters who go through things and make mistakes. I’m not even talking about Azula defenders (though I think there is a nuanced conversation there) but the Catra-type haters. As others have pointed out, ya’ll about women’s wrongs until a girl suffers a time loop to try to save the love of her life (who, lest we forget, begs Homura to shoot her in one timeline) and her friends and almost loses her mind by being the only person to remember the love of her life in the timeline that ya’ll think was the good one. I even hesitate to call it “toxic yuri” until the last movie comes out. Now, this isn’t to say that Homura has made no mistakes. I think the fact that her rewriting of the world to include the Kyubeys is going to be a BIG mistake on her part, and she did pull the identity of Madoka away from the Law of the Cycle against her wishes. But I think that to take everything Homura has done to try to save Madoka and even give Madoka the power to become the Law of the Cycle and say that she is irredeemable or toxic because she is traumatized…. It’s heartbreaking to me.

Moreover, this perception of Homura as irredeemable flies in the face of all this Christian imagery. Throughout the entirety of Rebellion’s ending (and as you’ll see further down) Madoka assures Homura that she loves her no matter what, that she is always there for her. Madoka in her fullness can see in intimate detail what Homura endured for her- literal YEARS of suffering yet never giving up- do you really think Goddess Madoka can’t and shouldn’t forgive Homura? Are the “good” guys in Christianity not all about forgiveness?

And finally, the real reason I made this long ass post: Homura and Rue from Princess Tutu are parallels. For those who don’t know: in Princess Tutu, the character Rue transforms into an “evil” persona- Princess Kraehe, daughter of the Crow. While Rue is convinced that she is now an agent of evil, the main character Ahiru/Duck insists that she is not. Also important to note is Rue may not rewrite the universe, but objectively commits more women’s wrongs than Homura. She rips the shards of emotion from her lover’s breast and tries to sacrifice innocent people’s hearts to her father, but the story does not paint her as condemned or irredeemable. She’s been lied to, groomed, and traumatized. She’s not an evil person, she’s a girl trying to navigate horrible circumstances, like Homura. Rebellion creates these parallels because Homura is forgivable and it wants you to know that.

So anyway, first parallel is the outfit. Demon Homura is SOOOOO inspired by Kraehe it HURTS:

And finally, Rebellion went so hard to reference this scene:

PLEASE put on sound they translate it differently but here she says "homura chan is homura chan"

so yeah if you stuck around thanks! love u muah

#madoka magica #homura akemi #puella magi madoka magica #pmmm homura #pmmm #princess tutu #princess kraehe #Princess Tutu spoilers #support womens wrongs #but actually support them #madoka kaname #madoka magica rebellion #walpurgisnacht rising #walpurgis no kaiten

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ghosts-and-glory · 3 months

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Imma be honest, Narinder deserved purgatory more than his siblings. I'm glad you gave him the fate he deserves, and I'm excited to see what horrifying abomination had taken his place in the cult. (I desperately hope it's Nothing There from Lobotomy Corporation, but that's wishful thinking lol.)

I’m sorry bestie but I’m not the Nari anti you think I am, I just like putting my faves through the horrors™️

In writing tragedy I want moments of catharsis. Narinder is a character destroyed by his own actions and punished beyond human comprehension. I don’t have a desire to write his infinite torture, more to play with the questions the post game leaves me with. I honestly can’t help but read the stories Narinder and his siblings as one of tragedy, where they are ripped apart by their flaws and reduced to play things in the cult.

Honestly what we know about the crown bearers there’s an argument to be made that Narinder has committed the least atrocities. His ass is the only one who hasn’t done a war crime in facilitating a genocide against the lambs. We are never given in cannon what he did to get banished or how the betrayal went so I can only theorize on the severity of his past actions. The conclusion I have come to based on mostly his, ??? (Mystic seller or whatever you call it, to me it’s Kevin) and Shamura’s dialogue is that he did something to attempt to reverse the natural order of things, mostly like relating to death.

I’m gonna ramble cause I’ve been chewing at the bit waiting to be asked about my au. There’s also some art under the cut. Hehe hoho I’ll be so normal with my interests.

Going into my au, that I really really need to name, The Lamb executes Narinder after he’s defeated. Partly for revenge, for their dead family and for damning them to serve the crown, but at the same time they feel empathy for him, as a servant of death they know that to die is to rest. What The Lamb did not forsee was that killing Narinder would damn him to purgatory just as it did his siblings.

I have a early concepts of, who I’ve affectionately dubbed Not-Narinder, with Purged Narinder.

I don’t wanna divulge too many details on my plans for the au, but Narinder does eventually end up in the cult. After two thousand years in service of the crown, another thousand years in chains, and then a hundred years in purgatory stripped of his senses. To some level the cult grounds are its own prison but does he not deserve a chance to carve out his own life? I will however tease a half written script and doodle of The Lamb and Narinder’s conversation after he’s freed of purgatory.

Unfortunately for me my thoughts and plans for the au go back thousands of years before the plot of the game and then another few thousand years after. It’s like the Star Wars timeline, as in its a big mess.

#cult of the lamb #cult of the lamb narinder #cult of the lamb au #my art #my post #I think he’s fucked up in a endearing kinda way #Tw blood #Tw gore #no devotion au #ask

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tired-but-willing · 6 months

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I wholeheartedly do not understand the take of "Luke is Padmés child"/"Leia is Anakins child". I understand it's very popular within the fandom, and it's a way for fans to create a connection between characters— but I just don't see it.

Long-winded rant coming. Hope it makes sense. No spoilers for recent Star Wars media, but I do briefly talk about the Original Trilogy, the Prequels, the books (Legends and Canon), and the comics.

The biggest argument that I have seen for both sides is temperament. "Leia has Anakins temper" "Luke has Padmés calm". But really, that's not wholly accurate. Every time that we see Leia becoming angry, it's righteous anger. She's been taken captive. Her planet has been threatened. Her planet has been destroyed.

Now compare that to Anakin. He's mad Padmé won't return his advances. He's mad the council doesn't trust him— for good reason, but we'll touch on that later in a different post.

A major difference that sits between Leia and Anakin (aside from the obvious), is timing. Leia knows when the time for sarcastic quips is. She knows when the time for angry comments is. And she also knows when to shut it down. If you want to compare her to anyone out of the family, it should be to Padmé; but I'll do you one better. Leia's temperament is all Bail and Breha Organa.

It's plenty sweet to want to connect the twins to the mother they lost, but truthfully, they don't get their personality traits from her. If Leia were to take after anyone, it would be the parents who raised her. The ones who brought her up to be good and kind and care about the people of Alderaan. I went off on a tangent: Leia does not have Anakins temper. Not even close.

Compare her moments of righteous anger to his outburst in the council chambers. Mace Windu— quite fairly, in my opinion— tells Anakin to sit down when his adult self starts throwing a temper tantrum for not becoming a barely-out-of-teens Jedi Master. He's entitled. He thinks he deserves the position, regardless of meeting very few qualifications. I'll likely make another post about that as well. The main point of this paragraph being; for Leia to share Anakins anger, it would need to come from a place of entitlement. It does not.

Now onto Luke. I see people attempting to mould him into Padmé for a multitude of reasons. Some want to, as I said, connect the twins to their mother in a way that is easy. They want a parallel to Padmé and Anakin that can be found in their children. Others, I'm sure, just want to make Luke "softer" (though Padmé is far from soft; some people just lack media comprehension). Luke is not some patron saint of patience. He CAN be patient, yes; but it is not his defining character trait. Throughout the movies, books, and comics, Luke has had outbursts. He's not some holier than thou figure who never gets angry. He just works to overcome that anger. Maybe that is a bit reminiscent of Padmé; but do you know who it reminds me of?

Beru Lars.

The same way his stubborn determination (look at him, look at me in my eyes, and tell me he's not stubborn) reminds me of both Owen and Beru.

There's no crime in comparing the twins to their biological parents. I understand the want. I love parallels in media as much as anyone else. I only wish that Star Wars fans would quit labeling Leia as "just Anakin's daughter" because she got a little angry That One Time when That One Thing happened, and quit labeling Luke as " just Padmé's son" because he's a Cool and Collected Jedi. There is so much more to their characters than just their biological parentage. I am begging people to read more into the characters who actually raised them and gave them love for nineteen years of their lives.

Long-winded and incomprehensible rant over <3 ty for reading.

#luke skywalker #leia organa #padme amidala #anakin skywalker #star wars #meta #ft: bail and breha organa #ft: owen and beru lars

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werewolves-are-real · 6 months

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Time Travel Temeraire snippet

At first, Laurence assumes he's dead.

It's a natural conclusion. He remembers dying, after all.

He and Tenzing were at a function hosted by Wellesley. They were mostly there to support the dragons. Temeraire had long abandoned them to quarrel with Perscitia in the courtyard, with half a dozen ferals watching like it were a jousting match. Wellesley had laid out his grounds to allow room for dragons and men to mingle, but a good portion of the guests retreated inside to avoid the raised voices of the dragons.

Laurence wonders how Temeraire felt about that, later. About not seeing.

He was stabbed. He barely remembers it – just a quick pulse of pain in his chest, looking down. Red blooming over his coat.

Then he was on the floor. People screamed. Tenzing appeared, grappling with a tall and finely-dressed man; he used a dinner-knife to punch a hole in the stranger's throat, in a fantastic spray of blood, and dropped the body at once to kneel by Laurence's side.

He remembers Wellesley barking orders – bandages, water, a hot knife. Have to cauterize it, he'd shouted. Keep pressure -

But Tenzing never spoke. Just pressed down on Laurence's chest, over the wound, without particular panic. Laurence still remembers the grim resignation on his face; Tenzing knew what was coming. Laurence was glad to have him there when he died.

Then Laurence woke up.

The world sways in a familiar way, a rhythmic motion that Laurence registers on a soul-deep level. He's on a ship. But why? Where is Tenzing, Temeraire? Why would they put him on a ship?

“I think the fever's breaking,” says a voice. A naval doctor, disheveled and salt-stained, with long scars down his bared arms. “Oh, and awake too!”

“Well thank Christ,” says another man. One Laurence recognizes.

It's Captain Gerry Stuart – but he looks different, younger than the last time Laurence saw him, with smooth skin and dark curly hair.

Gerry died two years ago.

“Well, Lieutenant! You gave us a scare – how are you feeling?” Gerry asks.

“It's Admiral,” Laurence corrects rather than all the other things he does not dare ask. He hates the title foisted upon him; but it's at least more comprehensible than Lieutenant, and he clings to that rather than demand where did you come from.

Stuart throws back his head to cackle, though the concern doesn't leave his face. “Still perhaps a bit feverish, I think!”

“That might be the laudanum,” says the doctor, also amused. “Why don't you sleep a bit more, Lieutenant?”

“But where is Temeraire? Or Tenzing?”

“I can only assume you had some very vivid dreams,” Stuart chuckles. “You were babbling and babbling for Temeraire – isn't that a ship?”

“Perhaps the flagship of his fleet,” suggests the doctor, and Stuart laughs again. “Get some rest, Mr. Laurence. Holler if you need me.”

They both exit the sick-berth. Laurence stares blankly at the door.

What?

Laurence pats his chest. No wound. He looks down, startled by the pale thinness of his fingers, his youth-soft skin.

Well; not soft. Callouses cover his hands. But even these patterns are different – hard skin in places where he would hold a sword, or pulls ropes. His hands should be more wrinkled, yes; but these callouses faded years ago.

“Where am I?” he asks when the doctor returns. “And what is the year?”

“The year? 1793. You don't remember?”

1793. Laurence was 19 in 1793. A lieutenant for two years, on the Shorewise.

The doctor narrows his eyes. “What's my name, lad?”

Laurence swallows. His stomach churns; for the life of him he can't remember.

The doctor rushes off to retrieve the captain.

_____________________________

Laurence is diagnosed with brain fever, and partial amnesia. Gerry is horribly guilty about laughing, earlier; Laurence could not care less. He is given strict orders to stay on bed-rest for another week, in hope his strength will recover – and his mind.

Laurence doesn't think he'll have any issues working – he's forgotten many of the people around him, true, but he may never forget the way to run a ship. He's far more concerned with learning what happened.

From all appearances, it is indeed 1793. France is undergoing riots, and declared war against Britain in February. Temeraire has not hatched. Napoleon is probably a corporal or general himself, at this point. If he exists at all. God knows, perhaps Laurence is only mad.

But he doesn't feel mad. His memories are too vivid to be mere fever-dreams. A man cannot dream up twenty years of life!

But neither can a man go back to his youth, and live it all again.

I have a dragon, he thinks of saying. There is no war, because I captured Napoleon – an unknown man who makes himself emperor.

Mad. It sounds mad even to Laurence himself. But to imagine that Temeraire was a fever-ridden dream... Tenzing and Granby and China, all of it...

Laurence doesn't share his turmoil with anyone – not even with Gerry, who checks on him fretfully. After a week the doctor declares him well enough, physically. He's paired always with another lieutenant for the first few days on duty, and his shipmates watch him carefully for signs of permanent debilitation; but aside from a moment or two of hesitance, Laurence competently resumes his duties. The oversight lessens.

Laurence thinks about writing letters.

He thinks about writing to Tharkay's late father, who ought to still be alive, inquiring after his son. He thinks of writing to Prince Mianning, asking about the health of Lung Tien Qian. He thinks of writing to young Midshipman Granby, his unwed brother, his dead father...

Not all of them would reply. But he could ask questions. Could verify the truth of things. Unless this, instead, is the delusion.

Is he in 1793, imagining the future? Is he in the future, imagining the past? Or maybe he is already dead, and this is the reality of hell. He came here burning with fever, and now he burns with fear. Surely that is it's own form of torture.

Laurence is ironically given the task of tutoring the midshipman and lieutenant-hopefuls more than any other duty as the weeks pass; his crewmates still look askance, and the more eager of the midshipman become protective. Laurence remains perfectly capable of command; it is only that he can't help but be absent-minded, sometimes, staring at all the crewmen that pass him like they are nothing but moving paintings. Images of a world that no longer matters.

One evening the midshipmen drag him away to a meal with the other officers. It's a noisy crowd; Laurence would find the friendly bustle comforting in another life.

One of the senior officers, Lieutenant Moore, waves him down as Laurence enters. Evidently they used to be friends, given his notably concerned behavior of late. Laurence can't remember the man, and has a sneaking suspicion he died too soon to make a lasting impression.Moore jostles him when Laurence sits at the long table. “Will! Did you get any letters with the last batch?”

A patrolling gunboat brought a satchel of letters just this morning. “I did not,” Laurence says. He's grateful for the fact. He'd found a few pieces of correspondence in his quarters that he dutifully sent on; he cannot imagine writing a letter now, in this confused state.

“Then you've had no news! Robespierre has gone mad. Madder than before, I suppose.”

“Robespierre?” asks Laurence blankly.

Lieutenant Moore double-takes, as does everyone else around them. “Good lord, Will, please tell me you remember Robespierre?”

Right... Robespierre's reign was brief, but this is when he led France. Some of the things the papers published...

Well, at least Laurence has a well-worn excuse for his ignorance. He plays up his malady: “Yes. I think I recall he was... French?”

Groans of horror mixed with amusement echo around the table. “...Well you aren't wrong,” says Moore, looking pained. “He has styled himself the 'President' of their Assembly, which is some stupid way of being king; the French are all mad about removing and adding words right now. I don't know how they expect anyone to hold a conversation.”

“We should... probably educate Mr. Laurence about the war at some point,” some midshipman mutters. Laurence doesn't recall his name.

Moore sighs again. “Anyway. Robespierre is a tyrant, of course. But he's elected someone else to rule France! Barely more than a boy, too.”

Laurence frowns; he doesn't remember what Moore's talking about. “Why would he do that? Did they capture one of the Bourbons?” Declaring himself regent of a child-prince would at least make sense.

“Well, at least you remember them. No; it is some nobody, a young soldier. Not even French! I cannot fathom it.”

It feels like Laurence has been dunked in ice.

For a moment he can't respond. “What was his name? The soldier.”

“Napoleon Bonaparte. He has been chosen as head of their new heresy, the 'Cult of the Supreme Being,' they're calling it; and now de facto head of the government, too. Must be a priest? I don't know, nothing the French are doing makes sense. I expect his little group will be as short-lived as everything else about these riots.”

But Laurence doesn't think so. “...Excuse me; I'm feeling a bit poorly,” he says, rising on wavering legs.

“Yes, you look it! Go on, we'll tell you about the war later...”

Laurence flees.

#posting bc i have no idea where this is going or if I'll do anything with it #it's just a funny stupid idea #Laurence travelling in time: I have gone mad. I am plagued by visions. God is punishing me for my Sins. This is purgatory.#Why is this happening? What moral course of action can I take under these circumstances?#Napoleon travelling through time: No idea how this happened. Neat. Time to hijack a cult and rule my country even earlier.#basic concept is Laurence has an ongoing existential crisis about his Place In The Universe #but also he is determined to stop Napoleon #who is delighted and fascinated they BOTH came back and sort of indulgently lets him try #basically resulting in Laurence becoming Napoleon's unwilling advisor frantically trying to do damage control in between bouts #of philosophical dread and despair #“Poor Mr Laurence was loyal before the brain fever we swear”#meanwhile Laurence is in France just trying desperately to make Napoleon Stop #etc etc #Temeraire

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adeptune01 · 1 year

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alright sorry to go on a supernatural rant in 2023 but...

it makes me feel insane.

Not to beat a dead horse or anything but like destiel will be it for me. Nothing else will ever compare to it. Like a man is raised by an absent father- a father who demands to be obeyed without question. A father who praises guilt, who tells the man that he is his brother's keeper. That he is responsible for all of his actions and those actions affects on others. The weight of the world is on his shoulders and he must bear it alone.

This man, the one that is single-handedly trying to save himself along with everyone he's ever crossed paths with, fails. He sacrifices himself to save his brother and he dies. He's sent to hell, a land of eternal punishment. 'No less than I deserve' he probably thinks.

But then he is saved. Not because of anything he's done. Not because of a deal he or his brother or his father has made. He is saved by a cosmic being of unfathomable power because of his nature which has been deemed by THEE Abrahamic God as being fundamentally good. The man who has hated himself his whole life for not being enough, not doing enough, is declared to be good.

And he feels guilty as hell. He didn't deserve this. Of those hundreds of people he's helped over the years...one of them...ANY of them is better than him. If he's God's strongest soldier then God is going to lose. He is going to fail God just like he failed his own father.

The man spirals while the heavenly power that saved him watches from afar. The power understands the man. He understands what it's like to hold Father to the highest esteem. He understands what it's like to blindly follow orders, hoping for the best. He also understands that the man has the brightest hope-filled soul he has ever seen.

So the power decides to help, and to do so he breaks away from the rest of heaven's contingency. He grows into his name- Castiel. The shield of God (I am not joking that is what Castiel means), created to protect humanity. AND become a pair with the Michael Sword- the man who believes he is unworthy- DEAN.

Through the years- DECADES- there's ups and downs. Divots and cracks in the Almighty's plans. But nothing they can't handle. They grow close and become more than allies in the fight against ghastly horrors beyond comprehension, they become best friends.

They have wild west movie marathons in the basement room designated as Dean's own "Fortress of Deanitude". They hang out late at night at crappy diners eating crappy pie. They go out cruising the town. They listen to the same music. They play pranks on each other. They learn about and remember each other's interests.

Their relationship grows deeper.

They fight. They lie. They attempt to kill each other. They raise a son together. They try to mentor a daughter. They leave. They come back. They mourn. They celebrate.

Together.

Two beings- one human, one angel- who were alone- whose defining characteristic was who their fathers were- prove that it's possible to break free from predestination, from circumstance. Their love, first as friends, then as something more, is as strong as the force that binds the universe- stronger, even.

And then they die.

Separately. Both convinced that the one thing they've wanted, the unnamed thing they've been fighting for, is the one thing they can't have. Because their fathers said so.

Despite everything, in the end, their fathers won. Dean died on the job he couldn't quit from an accident he couldn't help. Cas died obeying the first and most important commandment his Father gave him- to love and protect humanity.

THAT story is what I will never be able to get over. Not mentioning the gothic Americana aesthetic, the clear Protestant 'for by faith' message, the criticism of hyper-masculinity, the exploration of the 'American Dream'.....

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pianistbynight · 5 months

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What are your top study strategies with piano? I'm a self-taught pianist that most started because of my love for your lie in April and how music moved people so I am always trying to improve!!!

hi! first of all, i'm sorry this took a while, i wanted to make sure i had as complete a list as possible without being too overwhelming! also not sure what level you're at, so i'm going to assume you're just starting out and you're looking to play classical music. 🙂 also this is more of a "do as i say, not as i do" bc i really struggle to do some of these consistently 🙈

try to learn some basic music theory as soon as you can. just enough to be able to read sheet music (how to read treble and bass clefs, accidentals, time signatures, basic rhythm, and key signatures) if you haven't already. that's something i regret not doing at the beginning bc the vast majority of music and all of classical music are written in sheet music and you get so much more info from it than you can from the best of synthesia videos. beyond that, knowing music theory -> pattern recognition, so it can help with sight reading and memorization. this is the youtube series i learned the basics from. it's pretty comprehensive although i find he's sometimes hard to hear and goes off on a tangent. at the very least, you can use it as a guide for what to type into the search box to get a more concise explanation as there are lots online!

familiarize yourself with the basic technical exercises (scales, arpeggios, triads, etc.) in every key bc those patterns and fingerings appear all the time in classical music.

practice sight reading. (yes, i know it hurts the brain, it hurts mine too, but it will really really speed up the learning process when learning new repertoire so we can focus on the more fun aspects of music! 😆😅)

practice every day! and not just moving your fingers, your mind needs to be present and your ears need to be listening (e.g. are you playing with the right dynamics? are you moving in a way that will get the right tone? how is your posture?). sometimes it's a lot to be thinking about as you're playing, so it helps to record yourself and listen back. once you feel yourself losing focus or making the same mistakes over and over again, maybe it's time to take a little break bc practice makes permanent and you don't wanna injure yourself 🙂

on that note, playing an instrument is kind of like playing a sport in that you need to make sure you use proper form so you don't injure yourself (using bigger muscle groups like your arm and gravity rather than forcing the sound through blocky fingers)! if you play on a digital, the keys will generally be lighter than on an acoustic (highly recommend trying to play on both to compare!), so making a conscious effort to play the way you would be forced to on an acoustic is all the more important.

i hope this helps! my ask box is always open if you have any more questions or just wanna talk music 🎶💗 i'm really excited for you! expressing yourself through music and sharing it with others is so fulfilling 😊

#musicblr #music student #music studyblr #studyblr #studyspo #study motivation #asks #classical music #study tips #study advice

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littlemisslipbalm · 8 months

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Demonology: Me & My Dog

Series Summary: A new demon has come to Nashville. Josh and Jake's ways of life have been thrown off by her arrival. The angel and demon have lived with an understanding of one another, but with Y/N stirring up trouble and asking questions, they're forced to work out a new normal. And why is she so powerful for a human turned demon anyway, that's unusual, right?

Jake Kiszka x f!reader and Josh Kiszka x f!reader

A/N: This will be at least three parts! This first part is more about Josh and the reader, the second will be more Jake and then we will see with part 3 what is to happen. Please let me know what you think with comments and reblogs and messages to my inbox!! I want to talk about this bc I have been so excited to share it!!

Word Count: 5.4k | Warnings: alcohol consumption, strong language, allusions to sex - minor descriptions of sex but not descriptive smut (still 18+!!), dubious comprehension of angel/demon mythology, like this is fiction fr so if it does not make sense i am sorry but idc (but am also open to suggestions thx)

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Part 1: My & My Dog

When being told to stir up some trouble on Earth, Y/N was more annoyed that she had to go back at all than excited that she was moving up in the ranks. Afterall, she’d only died 50 years ago. It was already time to go back? She thought she had eternity down here.

From what she’d heard from other members of the underworld, it’d just gotten worse since she’d left. Prior to 1976 had been a riot for her (1976 was not her favorite, but dying usually wasn’t in people’s top ten greatest moments), but now it sounds worse than Hell itself.

Still, like a good little demon soldier, she trudged through the dim back rooms to find the dull office that would provide her with the necessary documents to take a corporeal form and inhabit the physical sphere for an extended period of time.

“Can I bring my dog?” She asks, kicking at a piece of garbage on the floor. It littered the entire ground around her feet.

“Dog?” The servant of hell inquired.

“Chupacabra,” She corrects.

“Sure,” Their eyes raise from filling out the paperwork to the little animal beside her. “Extra form you need to both sign. Says he’ll suck the blood of at least five animals per earthly week while he’s there. We don’t do ESAs here.”

“Fab,” She sighed in relief and scratched behind the ears of her dog that she had re-encountered shortly after arriving in Hell.

The chupacabra placed his paw in some mysterious blood that had formed in the pewter catch-all dish sitting beside the papers and then pushed it onto the form. Signed, sealed and soon to be delivered. They were getting out of Hell.

When she materialized on Earth, she wasn’t sure where she was exactly. The home office didn’t give that information, you just had to figure it out yourself. She had been hoping for her hometown of Los Angeles or another major city center she’d never been to before. Maybe London or Tokyo would be a fun change of pace.

After walking what felt like 20 miles, but was probably half of that given that she wasn’t used to physical legs anymore, she came upon a sign as to where she was. A mural to be exact.

It had only been woods and fields for the first half, but then there were more buildings. Coffee shops, bagel shops and something that was called a ‘Vape’ shops. Everything advertised themselves as historic music sites. But it wasn’t until 1504 Demonbreun St. that she fully ascertained she was in the heart of Nashville, Tennessee.

“Welcome to Nashville”

“Fuck yeah,” She smiled. A friend back in the day had been from here and told her about it a few times. It wasn’t a major capital city or home, but it was a city alright. And where there was nightlife, she was sure there could be trouble.

She spent the rest of the day checking around her surroundings. Finding the place Hell had given her to lodge in. It wasn’t much but she remembered earthly delights and planned to spruce it up, give it a vibe. She wrote a note on the wall with a deep red pen she had brought with her a list of items she needed. Couch, rug, bed, posters, an electric guitar and lots of wine and clothes. The ink dripped down the wall and she smiled, swiping at it and placing it to her lips.

She passed the rest of the daylight hours with great displeasure for the living people around her who barely seemed to notice her. Not that she looked any different than them, but it just bothered her that no one was as friendly as when she’d last been here. No one bothered to say ‘hello’, all they did was stare or talk into their rectangular devices she had realized were portable telephones half way through the day.

Broadway St. seemed to be the place Y/N thought she’d find the most possible trouble. It was lit up like the Sunset and if it weren’t for all the horribly dressed people surrounding her, she would’ve felt right at home.

At one of the bars, she got free shots from the bartender with a flash of her eyes. From the regular dark brown iris, they flashed an entire eternal glassy black. He smiled dreamily in the abyss and walked away after she winked at him. She swung back the shots and made her way to the dance floor.

Raising her hands above her head, she began to dance. Her black lace dress hugged her curves and shifted with her. Her silver jewelry glinted dangerously as she moved. The lights in the bar shifted to stay red instead of the flashing multi-colors that had bothered her when she entered. She moved her hips to the music and slowly it transformed from a poppy song she didn’t know to Led Zeppelin.

Robert Plant’s voice got everyone dancing the way they should and the vapes transformed into cigarettes and she smiled to herself feeling alive for the first time in a long time. Maybe being back wasn’t so bad. She drank more and danced more and saw people getting drunk and making out in corners and thought debauchery worked as trouble. Job done for the day.

She relaxed into the sway of the music, writhing around like a snake as her skin grew dewey with perspiration. A tug at her arm brought her out of her euphoric state. All night she had made sure no one would bother her, but whoever this was didn’t seem to follow her rules.

She opened her eyes, fully black once more as she stared at who was holding her wrist. She tugged back but his hold was secure. He pulled her to the side of the dancefloor, a space conveniently opening up.

“Get your hands off me! What the fuck, man?”

“You can’t be here,” He spoke calmly.

She narrowed her eyes at him. He had on a white plain t-shirt and light wash jeans, with opalescent beads hanging around his neck. His eyes were an oddly familiar light brown. His hair was shaved on the sides, creating a sort of mullet that she mildly appreciated if he hadn’t been so rude as to pull her away from her fun. That mullet exposed the golden earrings in his pointy ears.

There was something different about him. None of it was in his physical form but she felt it, vibrating and extending around him. As if he had invisible light passing around and through him even in the dark dingy bar lighting.

“Says who?” She finally tugged her arm free from his hold and crossed her arms across her chest, pressing her breasts up in the process.

His eyes flicker to the movement before pressing his lips into a thin line “Says me.”

She rolled her eyes, unimpressed. “And you are?”

“Joshua. I protect this town," he says. He wrings his hands around the gold bracelets on his wrists. “You can’t come into these bars and just mess with everything about them. It’s wrong.”

“Yes I can, Josh,” She smirks. “I’m a demon as you clearly already can tell. I can do whatever I want.”

“Oh my God,” Josh sighs, exasperated already. “There’s already a demon here.” He knew the other one quite well and was at least able to keep him in check. A newcomer would mean more work.

She shrugged. “Not my problem, angel. Hell sent me up here, guess they’re not happy with the other one’s performance.”

She moved to go back to the bar for another drink when Josh looked like he was a million miles away. He’d really killed her buzz. Josh’s mentioning of another demon made her stop and ask as an afterthought: “What’s this other demon’s name?”

“Jacob–er, uh, Jake,” Josh corrects himself. He hadn’t gone by Jacob since, well, since before, even if Josh wished he could just call him Jacob.

“Groovy.” Her smile is wicked, her lips painted a red so deep it resembled dried blood. “Displeasure meeting you, angel. Come find me if you ever want to have a real good time.” She kissed his cheek before disappearing behind a group of people.

Two weeks later, Y/N was seated on a bench in the park with her legs kicked up. She looked like she was a dead body–which more or less, she was, but the way she was sitting was unusual for someone who was supposedly alive. Her dog was perched unnaturally along the backrest, soaking in the sun he had missed. They looked out of place.

She had come out in the midday to see if she could start any fights in the park. She’d quickly learned that malfunctions with their little handheld phones really upset the modern humans so she liked to mess with wifi and electrical connections every odd day or so just to keep up the no-good work.

Her black RayBans covered her eyes as they surveyed the green grass for potential targets for a bit of a row. She sat as far away from the people as possible, so she had enhanced her vision as if using a zoom function. But soon something white blocked her vision.

“Angel,” She practically growled. Her dog actually growled, sitting up.

“Mind if I sit,” Josh asks pleasantly, eyeing the dog with caution. It looked like a normal dog, but a clip in his right ear and a strange red shimmer in his eyes made Josh think there might be something hellish about him.

She took her feet off the bench and pushed her sunglasses up off of her face. “Finally want a taste of what you’re missing?”

“No,” he states flatly. His eyes were still wandering between the creature and the demon. She was dressed in all black, typical. The dog was between cream and the lightest brown he’d ever seen, atypical. “Is this your dog?”

“Yeah.” She smiles softly for the first time. Her hand goes to pet him between his ears and down his small snout. “He was waiting for me in Hell back’n the day. They made him a chupacabra for me as a ‘Welcome to Hell’ present.”

Josh’s eyes widened in surprise. What had she done in life to receive a present in Hell? “They like you down there?”

“Eh…I think I’m just a descendant of many a troublemaker. They knew I’d be an asset, especially when I arrived so early.”

Her dog slipped into her lap. For a moment, he shifted as he stared at Josh. Big ruby eyes glowered at him, all his hair was gone, leaving something more resembling a pale soft dog-rat. Disturbing and wretched, nonetheless. He wrinkled his nose at Josh.

Josh tried to smile, feeling awkward. Jake had insisted he find this demon Josh had encountered, needing more information about whether he was really in trouble or if it was procedural. Why Jake wouldn’t do it himself, Josh never got as many answers as questions he asked.

“Do either of you have names?”

She grinned. “Is this twenty questions? Why so interested in me?”

“Just want to get to know my opposition,” Josh says lightly, praying for her to feel extra kind today. Afterall, she was a demon who was originally human and it was only a little while ago from what she seemed to like. He was pretty sure she’d only been down in Hell for 50-60 years, that was barely a human lifetime—and yet it was longer than hers. Far less than Jake. Maybe he could neutralize her, get her to see the bright side.

“His name is Rune, now, but it used to be Rori.” She rubs over the dog’s hair, happy that he was softer on Earth. “He responds to both–for me. Not sure what he should be called now we’re back.”

Josh waited patiently. The breeze was cooler than usual and looking at her, he had to assume it was her as well. She seemed far too powerful for a run-of-the-mill demon who used to be human. But she also seemed extremely unlikely to answer his questions if he got too personal.

With her eyes uncovered, Josh watched them move around as she thought about something. It was almost like she was tracking something or doing some long form math equation in her head. Like she didn’t know what her name was and was looking for the answer.

“Mine…well, now you can call me Sal.” She winks and Josh straightens in his seat, feeling strange. “Gonna write about me in your diary now, Joshua?”

Josh pretends to laugh with a clipped “ha ha.” She smirked again, sliding closer to Josh on the bench. Rori grew annoyed and hopped off her lap, slinking off to climb a tree in hopes of finding a squirrel. Sal extended a delicate hand to Josh’s shoulder, beginning to play with the fabric of his shirt. He smiled tightly, not having anywhere to go if he wanted more answers.

“You said you arrived early?” Josh’s voice is high as he feels her touch moving down his arm. Thankfully, being an angel kept him from feeling her entire influence, but her physical touch was enough to feel something…unholy. He didn’t want to imagine her abilities on mortals. “What did you mean?”

“You’re fun,” She beamed. “If I show you some tricks I picked up in Hell, will you show me something?”

“It depends what you want to see,” Josh tries to be diplomatic.

Her head throws back in laughter. “Not that. No, I want you to want me to see that.” Her hand wanders to his wrist and toys with the bracelet before slinking to his thigh. Her voice was low and sultry, lips pressed to his ear. “Desperately.”

Josh was starting to feel like he might have to leave. His breathing had turned shallow and he couldn’t stop staring at the carnelian stone hanging between her breasts. Her hand’s touch left him and she laughed again bringing him out of his reverie.

“Hell, you’re pretty cute…I was a 27 club member.” She shrugged, turning away from Josh to stare out at the people again. “Had my heyday in the late 60s/early 70s and went out the same way I lived. Fast.”

Josh thought about the 60s and the 70s. He’d admit those decades were a bit of a guilty pleasure for him. Nashville had been fun, not as crowded. He watched her again, seeing her eyes narrow looking at the couples and the groups of friends.

“You weren’t from here?”

“LA. Broadway’s kinda like the Sunset Strip, just a bit more loser-y…NashVegas, just like Liv said.”

Josh was about to protest, but refrained, letting her reminisce. She did miss her friends from back then. They’d gotten up to so much trouble. Sometimes too much.

“Best of times, worst of times kind of thing y’a dig?” She tapped the heel of her boot like she was trying to shake off something unpleasant. “Just glad I had my dog for most of the time. He followed me everywhere and everyone’d let ‘im in because he was such a doll. Died ‘bout three years ‘fore me.”

The more she spoke the more her accent of a bygone era of California popped up. Josh couldn’t deny how sweet she sounded when she spoke about that thing, demonic as the pair of them were.

“How long’ve you’ve been up–er, down here?” She asked, barely realizing she had to correct for him.

Josh cast his eyes to the sky, thinking. “Since the beginning. That’s like, 8000 human years, I believe.”

“Get the fuck outta town!” She exclaimed, jumping in her seat to face him. Her eyes were alight with hellfire. “You’re a proper angel then?”

Josh chuckled. “They don’t really take new hires upstairs, I’m afraid. Only very special occasions. It doesn’t happen much these days.”

She regarded him for a moment, inventorizing him again now that she deemed him far more interesting than before. “Yeah, I was on a special list when I came down. Only a few others in my line, everyone else had to wait in this huge waiting room. It was…repulsive and I’ve been in the alley behind the Whisky.”

Josh tilted his head, looking over her once more. He felt like he should know her, but he couldn’t understand from where. She looked so familiar. Her hair seemed to shift every so often and he couldn’t be sure if it was the light or mood dependent. He didn’t prod at her mentioning the special treatment in Hell, didn’t want to alert her to the fact, that from what he knew, that was extremely rare.

“Have you told your demon friend about me yet?” She asked.

“He’s not my friend,” Josh responds automatically.

Her eyebrows raise as she turns her head back to him, scanning him for understanding. A killer upon its prey.

“Secret lover?” She guesses.

Josh can’t hide his face of disgust. “Jesus! No!”

“Homophobic?” She asks with a look of distaste. Not being for the gays was so not groovy. Half the musicians she hung out with back in the day were gay. And she wasn’t one for choosing when it came to sexuality.

“No!” Josh cries. “I am more than an ally to that cause, not that angels really have sexualities…it’s just.” He sighs, rubbing at his neck confusion. “He was, is–I don’t know, my twin.”

“Oh!” She beams, eyes once again lighting up in intrigue. She enjoyed learning things, it helped for using it against people at the end of the day. “So he’s also a proper demon. Fell and all that.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me.” He sounded pained, as if he was reliving the entire thing.

“Wow…” She blows out a breath. “That must be funky.”

She continued when Josh said nothing. “Y’know ‘cause he’s your brother but also he’s–” She finished her statement by sticking her pointer fingers through her hair and wiggling them around.

“Yes, I am aware.” Josh shakes his head.

She stood up and stretched her arms over her head, revealing her stomach below the flowy lace top she was wearing. “Great catch up, I guess, angel. Wanna trade tricks later? I’ve already worked through most of the main bars here and I’m getting bored.” Nothing was keeping her interest, since every place she had to transform into her liking.

“You want to hang out with me? You want to hang out with an angel?”

She grinned, turning around herself once before dropping her arms and stalking back towards Josh, standing directly in front of him. She leaned over him, watching him straighten his neck and swallow thickly. His eyes flickered from her face to the carnelian again.

“Everyone else is too easy around here. I need a challenge.” Her lips were right in front of his. “You seem like the perfect remedy for a wayward soul like me.”

Josh wasn’t exactly sure why he agreed to meet the demon at some speakeasy she said she needed to try. He wasn’t fully sold on calling her ‘Sal’, something about it felt off to him. She didn’t even really seem to care for it either. Jake, he knew, was vehement that he wished to be called Jake.

Jake was probably why he had come to the back door of a pizza joint that was actually the door to the underground speakeasy. He’d asked for more information on her. When Josh had inquired why Jake couldn’t just do it himself, his twin finally fessed up that he was actually not currently in Nashville at all. Leaving the heavy lifting to Josh, like always.

Begrudgingly, Josh entered another bar with plans to meet a demon. Heaven forgive him. It was smokey inside the brick-walled cavern. Small candles lit the tabletops and narrow bar top. A small dance floor was packed as people danced slowly to a jazz band. In the corner of the room, he saw her hair almost glowing in the dark and he made his way over.

She was dressed in a black pantsuit, with no undershirt, just a black lace bra and her same necklace. Rori wasn’t present, from what Josh could see, but based on their conversation earlier he had a feeling the demon dog was around, lurking.

She groaned when she saw what Josh was wearing.

“Angel, man, do you have any other clothes besides that?” She shook her head in disappointment.

“Of course I do,” Josh huffed, looking down at his clothes not understanding what was wrong with them.

“Change.”

“I can’t perform miracles just to change my outfit. That’s wrong.”

“That’s wrong, it’s wrong,” She parrots what she thought was becoming Josh’s mantra. “God, Heaven sounds so stifling.” She rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers with impatience.

In an instant, Josh was dressed in a red velvet jumpsuit with sequins around the neckline. His arms were on full display, muscles bulging while the velvet hugged his torso and lengthened his height. He smooths at his hair and feels something come off his skin. On his hand, he sees glitter. He looks at her again and then down at his new clothes. She was eyeing the bulge veering to his right thigh.

“Much better.” She grins.

Josh rolls his hand in front of him quickly, almost like a benediction, and once again his outfit has changed. Now, he was in a cream and grey jumpsuit that was far less flashy of his own with his favorite sigil emblazoned on the chest. He left the glitter and sat down.

Her unamused look makes Josh feel a little hot with shame.

“A little miracle to make sure I don’t look like a demon can be forgiven.”

“You looked foxy but whatever.” She rolls her eyes and flicks a hand at the table, producing a bottle of red wine for both of them. “You drink, surely. C’mon, don’t act like your demon brother hasn’t corrupted a few of those precious angel feathers.”

Josh can’t help the smile that falls over his face. Not sure what was so endearing about her at this moment. The romantic jazz might have something to do with it. He loved jazz. He takes the drink gratefully and they sip in companionable silence. She was subdued.

With one bottle down, they start a second and this is when she offers to show Josh a trick if he’ll show her something again. He shrugs in compliance, feeling well on his way to drunk.

“But won’t the other people in here see?” He adds.

“No, they all know to mind their own business. Plus, it’s dark in here.” She winks and suddenly Josh is staring at only her head.

He can seriously only see her head and neck. She moves closer to him and now Josh is certain, she’s made her body disappear. She was a dishonest-to-god floating head. Her head glowed gold for a moment as she twirled in a complete 360 to really show herself off. Josh’s eyes were as wide as possible trying not to cry out in amazement. Then the rest of her body reappeared, straddling Josh’s lap. With her arms draped over his shoulder, her all black soulless eyes gazed into Josh’s, practically paralyzing him with her fiery warmth and intensity.

“So what do you think, angel?”

“I, uh,” Josh stuttered. He placed his hands firmly on her hips and moved her off of him. “That’s impressive. What’s it good for?”

“S just fun,” She shrugged, undetered by Josh removing her from his lap. “Let’s dance and then you can show me your wings or something.”

Josh didn’t have time to protest, as she grabbed his wrist with one hand and their second bottle of pinot noir in the other.

She took a swig before letting it float in the air beside them. Her body swiveled around the dance floor, placing herself in Josh’s arms as he swayed respectfully. She sighed and sunk into the movement, drinking from the bottle every so often. When the song changed, she turned to face Josh, handing the wine to him. He drank obediently, which she felt was a triumph.

Hands draped over his shoulders again, she pressed her body against his. He was strong, she could feel his toned stomach. Her regular eyes met his and she tipped her nose against his. He looked stoicly back at her, determined to be friendly but not fall into the trap she was so clearly laying for him.

“You’ve got so many defenses up,” She whispers. “Why not do what you want for once? Loosen up. Indulge.”

Josh smiles down at her and moves his lips to her ear. Polite as ever, he speaks soothingly. “I am having a lovely time with you, Sal.”

She groans, pressing his hands to her hips again, where the curve of her ass was. “I can gaurantee you’ve never had what I’m offering you…”

Josh smiles knowingly, unconvinced. “I’m afraid I’m above your temptations. Is seduction your main area of expertise?”

She glares at him, but there’s a glint in her eye. She loved the chase. The difficulty.

“Debauchery in general, but with how many people wanted to have sex with me in my first life I have a specialization in seduction and desire.”

He shrugs, moving his hands to a respectful place on her waist. His touch is light, but she feels the pressure of his thumbs pushing at the exposed skin. She smirks and snakes her lips up to his ear.

The gold hoop glints and she flicks her tongue over it. “I could just show you what you’re missing. If you’d allow me to put it in your mind, we wouldn’t actually do it. You’d be in complete control. Halo intact. C’mon just a few images…it’ll be informative.”

Josh sighs as the tug of her teeth on his earring. She was bad. Terribly good at her job. He understood why she was here. Jake wasn’t even in town. Damn him. If he did his job a little better, Josh wouldn’t be contemplating allowing a demon into even a small recess of his mind. But, Jesus, did he want to just see it. If it wasn’t real, it wasn’t really a sin to indulge.

She stares at him, waiting for his response. Her hands run over his shoulders and chest. The music swells and Josh’s hands tighten on her waist as he looks up to the ceiling, praying for forgiveness.

“For educational purposes,” He starts and she grins. “I will allow you to show me how you do your job. So that I may be able to thwart your wrongdoings better.”

“It’s just a little sex,” She licks her lips. “Igniting passion in people makes more babies for you to teach heavenly values or whatever. God likes sex, Josh.” Her voice is sickening, it was like she was dripping in a delicious scent that Josh can’t get out of his head. Twisting his values and her intentions into something evil that somehow made wicked sense.

He’s been careful to only open up a small piece he knows he can close, but he almost loses his footing when he finally feels her stinging lips on his. She licks into his mouth and he’s about to protest before the images begin to flow through his mind.

‘Good thing your brother doesn’t have to transfer information like this, huh?’ Sal says within Josh’s mind.

Guiltily, he feels himself laughing. Though his physical body is still locking lips with her.

The room she brings him to in his mind is dark, a red lamp in the corner where two bodies are rolling around. Sighs of ecstasy filling his ears. The smell of sex hanging in his nose.

‘You’re really missing out, angel. Could show you the best thing life, and death, has to offer.’ Her voice is softer in his mind.

The scene changes. He’s staring up at her above him. Her hips are working over him steadily as her naked breasts bounce in front of him, her necklace is the glowing light now. Her voice is sinful as she moans praises for Josh. How good he feels, how big he is, how strong he is. The scene changes and he’s driving into her with her legs over his shoulders, she’s smiling sweetly up at him with her mouth open, repeating his name like a prayer. It shifts and she’s pressed face down in the grey silk pillows, her body spread out for him as he grunts and growls, thrusting ceremoniously into her as she screams for him to keep going. It’s melodic, every bodily sound and the scene of their physical bodies uniting is hypnotic. Like it was pre-ordained that he would fit so well inside her. He feels euphoric as it shifts once more. She is back on top, his hips press up into her as she grinds down. Their faces are pressed together as Josh holds her body close to him. Arms enveloping her fragile frame. The room is quiet as they are pressed skin to skin, her lips meeting his gently. Sharp gasps escape their trembling lips.

‘Okay, enough,’ Josh pushes away from the scene, feeling both aroused and confused.

In the speakeasy, she pulls back from the kiss with a wipe of her lips. She runs her hands through her hair as she watches Josh. She had shown him every one of his fantasies, placing herself at the center of them. They weren’t particularly raunchy, it was all about connection to him and for once she didn’t tease.

“I like you, Joshua,” She says, truthfully, allowing him to pull their bodies a little apart.

He was flustered and confused and embarrassed, but he also didn’t want to run. She had kept her word, shown him a few things and left. He didn’t fully understand the words she had just spoken.

He shakes his head, an awkward smile on his lips there on accident, and she stares at him wistfully.

“I haven’t had someone in my mind in a very long time.”

“It’s okay,” She soothes. “You really are an angel. Maybe on this earthly plane for too long since you clearly have carnal desires, but they were sweet. Every man’s mind I’ve looked into had vile and cruel desires…” She paused, looking past Josh. “Even in my first life, all the men I knew wanted to hurt the women they supposedly loved.”

Josh’s eyebrows shot up in shock.

“The closest you got to dirty was having me in do–”

“Okay!” Josh cut her off. “I think it’s time to call it a night.” He turned and walked swiftly through the crowd, parting easily for him–definitely not a misuse of his miracles.

“Fine,” She grinned wickedly and whistled for Rori, sauntering after Josh.

Back on the street, it could’ve been daytime with all the lights compared to the speakeasy. She squinted her eyes in distaste, thriving in the dark and wishing she had brought her sunglasses.

Josh was turned away from her so she tapped on his shoulder, wanting his attention. Wanting to see him again. He turned slowly and the look on his cherubic face was troubled. She frowned, about to ask what got his wings in a twist.

A shadow stepped into Josh’s light. His hair was long and messy, in need of a wash. His silver jewelry shined heavy on his tanned chest. His black button up was almost completely open exposing his torso and he held a wide-brimmed black hat loosely in one hand and a guitar case more carefully in the other. His eyes flashed yellow when he spotted Y/N.

She straightened her posture under his gaze and gave him a defiant look. Rori growled, but stayed behind her legs.

Jake ran his tongue over his bottom lip, taking in the woman shaped devil before him. “You must be the new demon in town.”

She tilted her head at him and looked between Josh and Jake. “And you must be your brother’s keeper.”

He took a menacing step closer, narrowing his eyes at his angel of a brother before returning his gaze to her. “Something like that. Now, farewell…or don’t, I don’t care.”

She opened her mouth to speak again but no sound came out.

His eyes flashed again as he turned on his heel and said tersely, a command, “Josh.”

The pair disappeared into fog that had appeared as suddenly as the older demon along the nighttime sidewalk and then she watched it dissipate moments later, leaving no trace of the creatures. The men. The angel and the demon.

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