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jujumin-translates · 26 days

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Tsuzuru Minagi | [SSR] MANKAI Feature | Today’s Star: Merlin - Part 3

Tsuzuru: Phew…

Citron: Tsuzuru, what is it?

Tsuzuru: It’s nothing, I’m just glad I managed to get into this costume properly…

Tsuzuru: It’s kinda tight, so I have to try to stay in shape for it.

Citron: You are thin, so it is okay, Tsuzuru.

Tsuzuru: But it won’t look attractive if I’m too thin.

Izumi: We’re ready to start filming, but are you two good to go?

Tsuzuru: Yeah!

Citron: I am a-okay!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

???: “Aaah, how the world fades with each passing moment, the screams enveloping all…!”

???: “Humans, fairies… and the lowly failures alike… it is we who will triumph over--.”

Izumi: (In the darkness, an eerie voice echoes as an evil aura fills the atmosphere.)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: (The scene switches to the beautiful forests of Britannia and then to the royal castle, the sound of pages turning echoes through the air--.)

*Page turns*

King Arthur: “...!”

King Arthur: “That dream just now… I saw something rather unpleasant.”

Vassal: “Your Majesty!”

King Arthur: “What’s the commotion?”

Vassal: “The temple was attacked by a horde of demons, and the sorcerers who were gathered there for a meeting were completely annihilated…!”

King Arthur: “...!”

King Arthur: “Was the dream I just had not just a dream, but a prophecy?”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: (King Arthur tries to return to the castle through the forests of Britannia.)

Izumi: (The temple has been completely destroyed, as reported.)

Izumi: (Remembering the gruesome scene, King Arthur sighs heavily as he spots a young man lying in the shade of a tree…)

King Arthur: “You…”

Merlin: “Ghh…”

King Arthur: “He’s breathing. Lead him back with us.”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

*Magic is cast*

Izumi: (The young man King Arthur brought back is given medical treatment by the healers.)

Merlin: “I’m… Merlin… a sorcerer.”

King Arthur: “Why were you lying in a place like that?”

Merlin: “I managed to escape from the temple that had been attacked by demons.”

King Arthur: “Just as I thought… Regardless, I’m glad you’re unharmed.”

Merlin: “…Thank you so much for saving me.”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: (Sometime later, Merlin, now fully recovered, visits the throne room to meet with the king.)

Merlin: “I’m eternally grateful to you, Your Majesty, for saving my life. While I am inexperienced, I’m still a sorcerer, so please let me give you something as thanks.”

King Arthur: “Something as--.”

King Arthur: “...Gh.”

Merlin: “Is something the matter?”

King Arthur: “I just have a slight headache along with the troubling dreams I’ve been having lately.”

Merlin: “How unfortunate. Allow me to make you an elixir straight away.”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Merlin: “Now, let’s make a very special elixir, shall we? Please continue to wait, Your Majesty.”

Izumi: (King Arthur then regains his health thanks to the elixir Merlin makes.)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

King Arthur: “Merlin, I would like to welcome you as the sorcerer of this castle.”

Merlin: “I’m honored beyond measure. --I pledge my allegiance to you, my Great King.”

Vassal: “Your Majesty! There’s another horde of demons…!”

King Arthur: “Not again…”

King Arthur: “Take them down immediately. Bring Gawain.”

Vassal: “Understood!”

King Arthur: “My apologies, Merlin. I leave the castle to you.”

Merlin: “Please leave it to me.”

*Door closes*

Merlin: “Fu… ahahahaha!”

Merlin: “Poor, lowly, failure of a king…”

Merlin: “--.”

Merlin: “The pure white and blue-- the fairies have moved on.”

Merlin: “Come now… let’s begin our story--.” (1)

*Page turns*

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

*Beep*

Tsuzuru: An email from MIZUNO Enterprises…?

Tsuzuru: …Oh, they’ve started streaming it.

Citron: This is the spin-off from before!

Tsuzuru: Yeah. Seems like everything got approved and they’ve started distributing it.

Tsuzuru: Hoshii-san said it was good, and I got support from Tonooka-san, too… I guess we really did pull this off.

Itaru: Finally! That one unsettling line Merlin had…

Itaru: “Come now… let’s begin our story--.” God, he truly is the best at being the worst.

Citron: I was in the wings, so I could not see much! Tsuzuru, you are too good at being a villain.

Tsuzuru: Hey, can you please watch that in your room? It’s embarrassing.

Itaru: Tsuzuru, you’re the best. Thank you for playing Merlin.

Itaru: I still wish I could’ve been a part of it, though… no, but if I did that, it’d be a disservice to the entirety of the masterpiece that is KniRoun.

Citron: Correct. You had no part to play this time, Itaru.

Itaru: Ghrr…

Itaru: Playing KniRoun will fix me. Wanna join?

Citron: That is a good idea! Tsuzuru will join us too!

Tsuzuru: Ah, well… I guess I can’t say no.

[ ⇠ Previous Part ]

• • •

T/N:

(1) Up until this point, Merlin had been using watashi as a first-person pronoun, but here he suddenly uses boku, which is what he uses throughout the entirety of KniRoun IV. Going off what existing Merlin lore we have, the way Merlin seems surprised after he says “poor, lowly, failure of a king” as if he didn’t expect himself to say that, and Merlin saying “our story” specifically, my understanding is that that’s supposed to be an indication of like, the evil demon Merlin fully taking over the normal human Merlin. That’s just my interpretation of it though.

#a3!#a3! translation #tsuzuru minagi #citron #itaru chigasaki #// oh i am so ill over this

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alicent-vi-britannia · 27 days

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The narrative importance of the Ragnarök Connection

Charles zi Britannia believes that humans are liars. His ideology is based on the fact that the suffering of the world comes from deceptions and, for this reason, the Ragnarök Connection consists of destroying the set of masks that people use in front of others to force the people to be themselves. This isn't a hive mind nor the literal destruction of the world. It's about, in Jungian terms, destroying the Persona archetype (the face we decide to show to others, not the one we truly are). This way people wouldn't have to lie, they could understand each other and conflicts would end. Sounds good, in theory. The problem is that the emperor's plan involves eliminating free will and individuality, which reflects Lelouch's parents' rejection of human nature. Charles' view of humanity is quite simplistic, binary and dismissive. That's why Charles appears painted red and blue on a background of the world in the opening.

Lelouch and Suzaku reject this vision and this plan. Lelouch says that people still lie for good reasons (a purpose) and Suzaku agrees, claiming that they may lie to protect others like Euphemia and Shirley who kept Lelouch's secret. Lelouch understands that masks are necessary and are part of people's identity. He proves it in the last interaction he has with his father. Nunnally's smile is a mask, but that doesn't make it fake. It's her way of accepting her unfortunate fate and being grateful that she is still alive and is with her loved ones. Lelouch is aware of this and accepts her mask.

The Ragnarök Connection involves the elimination of the effort that humans must make to learn and empathize with them. Consequently, no new experiences are forged and nothing evolves. And, if nothing changes, life loses total meaning and becomes empty. An empty life is a life without a future or hope or purpose. That's what Lelouch explains to CC and Rolo.

Lelouch tells CC in the seventh episode of the first season: "Until I met you I was dead. An empty corpse existing behind a false guise of life, a life in which I did nothing real. Day to day, I merely went through the emotions of living as if I were a zombie. And I always had the feeling that I was gradually dying. If I’m condemned to go back to that, then I’d rather…"

And then he tells Rolo in the fourth episode of R2: Rolo, what is the future? The future is hope. Without hope, your life is on hold, empty, waiting. And you have no hope beyond your mission, Rolo. If you capture C.C., what sort of future will it open for you? Things will just go on as they are, and nothing will change.

Code Geass often uses Lelouch to emphasize the importance of having a purpose in life, even if all the characters demonstrate it in one way or another. It is one of the main themes. For Lelouch, Zero/the Rebellion was always that future. However, in this episode everything is questioned because Lelouch discovers that one of the reasons for his revenge is false because his mother is alive and, furthermore, his rebellion was part of his parents' plan (and CC to a lesser extent). Given this, he reaffirms his individuality and his will.

God/C's world is the human will, which means that it is a collection of the wills of all the people who have ever existed, including Lelouch's. He activated his Geass, not to use it on God, but to influence it. At that moment his will was so powerful that he not only convinced God to stop his parents, he also increased the power of Geass and unlocked it in his other eyeIt's important to note that he made a wish, instead of using Geass, because that differentiates him from his father. While the Emperor intended to bend the C's world to his will, Lelouch doesn't want to do so. He saw himself reflected in his father. They both suffered in the past and wanted to change the world for the better. The thing is Charles was trying to impose peace and although he had good intentions, it was an evil and selfish act. Lelouch realized he was doing the same thing with Zero, technically.

In this way, Lelouch understands that the end doesn't justify the means since his parents sacrificed everything for their ends and, as a result, lost themselves and their motivations. Humanity's sake or, what is the same, "reunion with those from whom we are separated" was the lie that Marianne and Charles used to convince themselves that they were right and were the scapegoat to justify all the sins they committed and allowed to be committed. Lelouch reveals their hypocrisy by pointing out the unconsciousness of their statements. Although Charles and Marianne took Lelouch and Nunnally away to protect them, they didn't seek justice for the crime committed, instead, they became VV's accomplices by using Charles' Geass on Nunnally and then they did not stop the war between Japan and Britannia because they wanted to get the Thought Elevator on Kaminejima Island for their plan. In the same way "Nunnally" was the scapegoat and the lie for Lelouch in his rebellion, however, Lelouch is honest with himself and recognizes that his true motivation was to protect the people he loved. This sincere display is what persuades Suzaku to work with him once again.

One of the main unknowns of the series is "do the ends justify the means?" Suzaku says, "No, the means determine the ends and that's why I will follow the right path by trying to change the unjust regime from the inside while keeping my integrity intact." Lelouch says, "Yes and I can be this manipulative, control-freak leader over these 'pawns' if it means stopping Britannia/saving Nunally." The series answers that neither is completely correct and that both have their advantages and disadvantages. Lelouch and Suzaku end up realizing it here. Suzaku says, "If you want to achieve that end, you must act." And Lelouch says, "Yes, the means to that end requires me to reject something." That is, both must sacrifice something to achieve their goal.

In short, the narrative objective of this scene is to show us that Lelouch and Suzaku understand what humanity wants and establish themselves as defenders of free will, as well as accepting the virtues and defects of the human condition. It's in the nature of men to lie and be confrontational, but they also dream of a tomorrow. Ultimately, the Ragnarök Connection is the final stage for Lelouch and Suzaku's evolution. Thanks to this plan, they perfect their ideals, manage to unite and are able to save the world. It's an important moment that solidifies all the themes of the series and sets the foundation for Lelouch and Suzaku's final plan: Zero Requiem.

PS: If you think this analysis blew your mind, hope you see it from the perspective of Joseph Campbell's monomyth :P

#code geass #code geass: hangyaku no lelouch #code geass: lelouch of the rebellion #lelouch lamperouge #lelouch vi britannia #lelouch #suzaku kururugi #suzaku #charles zi britannia #marianne vi britannia #nunnally vi britannia #nunnally lamperouge

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yandere-romanticaa · 2 days

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i bestow upon thee the ultimate ender of the lelouch vs light battle:

lelouch wins.

Yes. Jut YES.

This is not even a debate, let alone a comparison, come on now. I've watched Death Note and Code Geass and Light Yagami just can't compare to the magnificence of Lelouch vi Britannia.

While they do have some common factors - such as being highly intelligent, attractive and ambitious individuals - it all feels hollow and shallow because at their core, Light and Lelouch are two very different people.

I won't lie, it was beyond entertaining to watch Light Yagami and his schemes (all hail the potato chip scene) but deep down he was nothing more than a self obsessed maniac who cared about no one other than himself. He had the world in the palm of his hand but he lost it just as easily.

Lelouch meanwhile... Gosh. I could talk about him for ages. For a bloody eternity. He's such a beautifully multilayered character that it just takes my breath away.

He is flat out just not a good person. He has messed up, he has gotten hundreds of people killed, he has allowed for his pride to take over when he really should have known better and yet.

And yet despite my upper statement, he has a good heart. A soft heart. A gentle heart. A heart that bleeds for the people that he cares for, a heart that weeps for every single person that he lost and then some. He'll fool you into thinking that he's the most vile creature on the planet if it means that you will stay alive and well. Lelouch has goals and ambitions that are so much more than his ego and pride.

While on the surface Light appears to have the same motives, if you bother to look deeper you just know that it's not the case.

Besides, at the end of the day, even if you do like Light more, you can't deny that Lelouch just did it better. He actually accomplished his goals and set the world straight before he croaked. It's not even fair to compare the two because Lelouch would wipe Light away like a god damn fly.

All hail Lelouch vi Britannia.

#♥️ girlie says #🖤 anemochii

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sgiandubh · 5 months

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National personification

The UK has Britannia. France has Marianne. The US have Uncle Sam. National personifications, summing up supposed collective qualities and passing on a message, both to citizens and foreigners alike. Instantly recognizable by just about anyone. To be found everywhere, from city halls (busts, frescoes, tapestries) to subway walls (Army conscription posters - of course it rings a bell!).

Romania has this:

This is Revolutionary Romania, as seen by C.D. Rosenthal, an Austrian painter who found both friendship and an avid clientele among the Romanian young rebels who tried and failed to overthrow the corrupted Ottoman rule, in 1848. Following them in exile and probably also spying on their behalf, Rosenthal was finally arrested in Budapest and tortured to death by the Imperial authorities: a normal occurrence in troubled times. His memory went on and on and on, because the same friends were soon to come back home and become ministers, bankers, newspaper owners: a modern democracy slowly emerged.

This is his most famous portrait and it quickly became our Britannia of sorts. Ceaușescu had it placed in his office, for inspiration - it did not help much, though.

The woman painted by Rosenthal holds the red, yellow and blue flag and is dressed in a Southern peasant costume, as it was worn at the time. She gazes with strength, determination and confidence towards a future that spells free press, parliamentary elections, industrialization and capitalist speculation. In real life, she is Maria Rosetti, a personal friend and sponsor of his. The wife of C.A. Rosetti, an authentic Prince of Genoese and Greek stock, one of the leaders of both the rebellion and the future Liberal Party. Also a many times removed relative of this blogger - but let's not insist. 😉

There is a catch, however, in all this fine and dandy story. Our national personification, the woman I just mentioned, is Scottish. Her life begins in Guernsey in 1819, as Marie Grant, the daughter of Captain Edward Grant, a ship-owner businessman and member of the Clan Grant of Carron and Spey and Marie La Lacheur, a French Huguenot woman.

These people, who fought as Jacobites at Prestonpans and Culloden and whose motto was 'Stand Fast':

Marie came to Wallachia, or what is now the Southern part of Romania, around 1837, following her younger brother, Effingham Grant, who just managed to find a lucrative job as the private secretary of another Scot (Glaswegian, even), Robert Gilmour Colquhoun, the newly appointed British Consul-General. At the time, these were long term postings, not unlike a long sojourn on a space station of sorts: Colquhoun remained in Bucharest from 1835 to 1854, when he eventually was posted to Bosnia.

Because she needed to support herself, Marie found a well paid live-in job as a governess for the family of Ion Odobescu, a high ranking Police honcho (also a far removed relative, this time on my maternal grandmother's side - the world is really, really small). The rest was easy enough: having met Rosetti through her brother, they fell in love, eloped to Plymouth and got married there, for what was to become a life long equal political and business partnership. Because they owned several newspapers, she is our first female journalist. A truly remarkable woman, a philanthropist and an indispensable voice advocating for the dispossessed. Effingham went on to establish the biggest foundry in the country, along with a real estate company, a tobacco manufacture, an orchid greenhouse and a bread factory - all prospered beyond any expectations. A heavy traffic steel bridge in Bucharest still bears his name. Enduring legacies.

For those brave enough or bored enough to look for more, here is the best detailed account on her I could find, based on Guernsey sources (but not only): https://www.priaulxlibrary.co.uk/node/386 .

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racefortheironthrone · 5 months

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It's command to refer to pre Norman English Kingdoms as Anglo-Saxon, but would the people /kings have considered themselves as such? Or was there still a separate Saxon / Angle / Jutish identity?

The answer is that it changed over time. After you had the Saxons, Angles, and Jutes, you had the Heptarchy, and so forth. So for many years, people would not have considered themselves Anglo-Saxon and probably had never heard that word used in that way.

However, one of the major long-term ideological projects of the House of Wessex was to promote a broader identity beyond one's local region, as part of their project to beat back the Danes and eventually unify England under their reign. Thus, Alfred the Great started his reign as the King of Wessex, but in 886 CE started styling himself as King of the Anglo-Saxons after he had reconquered London from the Vikingers. His son Edward the Elder continued that claim, using it to leverage his claims to Mercia and East Anglia.

Then with Edward's son Æthelstan the Thunderbolt, you get the first of the House of Wessex to style himself as King of the English, which is really where you start to see an attempt to construct a unified "English" identity, although he also used the title "Rex totius Britanniae" (King of all Britain) after defeating King Constantine II of Scotland and forcing him to swear vassalage.

#history #english history #house of wessex

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skippyv20 · 3 months

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JAN MOIR: Harry and Meghan are like two eager limpets sucking nutrients off the rusty hull of the Royal Yacht Britannia

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librathefangirl · 8 months

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When the War Is Over (How Do We Rebuild Ourselves)

ao3 (One-Shot; 3.8k+)

With their father finally gone, Meliodas and Zeldris try to move on as brothers. Meanwhile, the Seven Deadly Sins are horrified to learn that someone actually enjoys their captain's cooking. (Written for @ficwip's 5k 2023)

It is finally here! My Meliodas Can Cook (Demon Food) AU! Also shout-out to @hihopelessromantics and the mutuals for helping me decide on the Commandments' cooking skills XD

Read on ao3 or under the cut!

Ban watched the scene unfolding before him with growing horror. You’d think that by now – after a Holy War and Purgatory and fighting the Demon King himself, multiple times – he wouldn’t really be fazed. This, however, was different. A whole other kind of horror.

The horrifying part was, surprisingly, not the new demon currently inside the Boar Hat. The demon sitting awkwardly by one of the tables was a startling contrast to the demon Ban had seen before. He still looked the same, sounded the same, glared the same – but without the constant murder attempts and trying to conquer Britannia in the name of the Demon King, he seemed… kind of tame. To be honest, he reminded Ban a bit of a grumpy kitten. His reaction to Meliodas ruffling his hair as he passed by did him no favors. Seeing Meliodas dodge his brother’s fist with a wide grin was also a nice change, especially compared to the look he’d had talking about Zeldris back in Purgatory. Meliodas ignored Zeldris’ mutterings, letting out a laugh as he jumped over the counter into the kitchen.

Now that was the horrifying part - and it only got worse the longer Ban watched him. Meliodas in the kitchen had always been scary, ever since the first meal Ban had tasted. Today, somehow, was even worse. Meliodas was bustling around the kitchen, happy and unrestrained in a way Ban hadn’t seen him before. Raw meat of various animals and spices that Ban could swear he had gotten from Merlin’s lab were scattered across the countertop. Actually, the most horrifying part was the realization that during all these years, Meliodas had been genuine in his attempts at cooking. Watching him now, Ban knew that to be true. Restricted in ingredients and whatnot maybe, but genuine.

King sent him a more than half-panicked look, quickly backed up by Diane’s frightened one. Ban sighed. Guess making something edible for the rest of them would be wise. Pushing his way into the kitchen earned him an eye-roll from Meliodas. Though only a half-hearted one. Meliodas’ focus kept straying from his cooking to his brother, the joy on his face dimming a little every time. From his new position, Ban had a better view of the other demon too. The awkwardness was palpable. At the same time, he seemed at peace with what Meliodas was doing. It was kind of scary. He seemed uncomfortable with being in the Boar Hat and unsure how to act around them all, but completely unconcerned with the fact that he was about to eat Meliodas’ cooking.

“Hey!” Ban called out, pulling Zeldris’ attention, as he decided to offer up another mercy today. “You don’t have to eat that… thing .”

Ban gestured towards the plate Meliodas was preparing, nose crinkling as he squinted at the food. He could have sworn it just moved . How the fuck the captain continuously managed that was beyond Ban’s comprehension. He had even watched him prepare this dish, there wasn’t anything in it that should still be able to move. Uncooked, yes, but still very, very dead.

Nobody should have to eat the captain’s food. No matter who or what they were – including murderous, awkward, grumpy kitten little brothers.

“I could make you something too,” Ban offered with a shrug. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Meliodas freeze, eyes going wide as he looked over at him. Zeldris stared at Ban too and for a moment the tavern was completely silent. Zeldris’ brow furrowed deeply, fingers fidgeting nervously on the edge of the table. He opened and closed his mouth once. His gaze flickered tentatively between Meliodas and Ban. Meliodas, however, had snapped out of his stupor and was now too busy glaring at Ban with a hand dramatically placed over his chest to help his poor brother figure out if Ban was trying to trick him or not.

“Why wouldn’t I eat Meliodas’ food?” Zeldris finally asked, breaking the silence. Meliodas didn’t miss a beat, smacking Ban soundly across the arm.

“Yes, Ban, why wouldn’t he eat my food?” Meliodas echoed, countering his own statement by stealing a piece of the food Ban was preparing. He quickly dodged the punch Ban threw his way, leaning back, just out of reach. Ban sighed. He gestured at Meliodas’ food again as if it was enough of an answer – which to any sane person it was.

“Because it tastes like garbage!”

Meliodas’ offended gasp only partially drowned out King’s mutter of “-understatement. It’s more like if garbage died and came back to life half decayed.”

“Hey!” Meliodas protested, glaring at King as he waved his knife around enough to force Ban to suddenly duck beneath a splatter of… something. “‘Just because you two have terrible taste-”

“Not just us.”

“-doesn’t mean my food sucks,” Meliodas continued, ignoring King’s interjection. “Gowther likes it!”

Gowther looked up at that. He was seated beside Zeldris, clearly having been paying more attention to the awkward demon than the conversation happening around them. Now he tilted his head, regarding their captain for a moment. If he took Meliodas’ side, Ban was going to smack him.

“I’m a doll. I have no sense of taste,” Gowther reminded them, earning a grin from Ban and a disappointed sigh from Meliodas.

“He was also modeled after a demon by a demon,” Merlin pointed out before Meliodas had the chance to defend himself further. “So even if he had a sense of taste, he would probably actually enjoy your particular flavor of cooking, Captain. But he’d be the only one.”

Meliodas sighed again, more dramatically, “Why do you guys hate me?”

“Nah, only your cooking, buddy,” Ban said, wrapping an arm around Meliodas’ shoulders. As he did so, he took the time to look over at Zeldris again. He continued to fidget subtly, eyes a little too wide and brow still furrowed. Even from over here, Ban could tell he was tense too, back as straight as an arrow, and he wasn’t the only one. The captain was masking it a lot better, but Ban could feel the tension in Meliodas’ body. This wasn’t just a casual family dinner – if such a thing even existed for the two sons of the (dead) Demon King – this was a big deal for them.

“Speaking of which!” Ban unwrapped himself from Meliodas and picked up his half-prepared food. “Don’t want the only edible thing in here getting corrupted so – King, gather some firewood! We’re going wild style with this one.”

“Oi, do it yourself!” King shot back as he followed Ban and the rest of the Seven Deadly Sins out the door, leaving Meliodas and Zeldris alone in the tavern.

It wasn’t the most subtle of withdrawals, but Meliodas was grateful nonetheless.

The joyous carefree atmosphere disappeared along with the others. Instead, a tense silence filled the air. It almost reminded Meliodas of being back under his father’s roof. Except the silence in the Demon Realm’s castle had come with the imminent threat of danger and violence. This one only came with the reminder that Meliodas didn’t know how to do this anymore. He wasn’t sure he had ever known. If life had been merciful, Zeldris would have been given the big brother he deserved. Life wasn’t merciful though – Meliodas had learned that long before he and Elizabeth had been cursed – so all he had was Meliodas. That would have to be good enough.

This was a time for new beginnings, for Britannia and for the demons, maybe even for them.

“Hope you’re hungry!” Meliodas shouted, plastering on a bigger smile as he grabbed two plates of food and made his way over to Zeldris’ table. As Zeldris looked at the food, a small smile flashed across his lips before he could stop it. It was only there for the briefest moment, but Meliodas saw it, feeling a bit more confident in what he was doing.

It wasn’t too complicated a dish, something you could do away from home if you so wished. Mixed meat sauce topped with berries. It had been one of Zeldris’ favorites growing up, which was why Meliodas had chosen to make it. He’d had to make some adjustments, of course, Britannia’s supply of meat and berries differed from the Demon Realm’s, and while Merlin’s stash was quite extensive, it was focused on experiments and not cooking. Meliodas had to make do with what he had. It wasn’t like the food would be the crucial part of this day anyway.

“Hope you like it,” Meliodas said after a few moments of silent eating. “Unfortunately there’s no dragon meat, Britannian dragons are kinda lacking.”

Zeldris snorted, “Yeah, no kidding.”

Meliodas grinned, feeling himself relax. This all felt so… normal, in a way the two of them had never really had. Here they were with no war, no father, not even Chandler and Cusack breathing down their necks. Just two brothers sharing a homecooked meal. Meliodas used to have dreams just like this.

“It’s not bad,” Zeldris mumbled, that half smile flashing across his face again. “All things considered, I mean.”

Oh. Meliodas knew that tone. He might not have heard it in 3,000 years, but he would recognize it anywhere. It was ingrained deep in the part of him that could never see Zeldris as an enemy.

"No. Zel, don’t you dare." Meliodas’ protest was only met by a gaze that clearly said he was absolutely going to go there. “If you say that Cusack’s is better, I am going to throw you out the window.”

“Pfft!” This time the grin didn’t disappear as Zeldris crossed his arms over his chest. “As if you could.”

“Oh…” Meliodas matched Zeldris’ pose, leaning forward in his seat, “Why don’t you try me, little brother .”

And just like that, the spell broke.

Both of them suddenly realized what they were doing, what was happening. The smiles fell from their faces as they remembered they weren’t allowed to act like this anymore. This was how brothers acted. They hadn’t been brothers for over 3,000 years.

“I, uhm…” Meliodas cleared his throat, struggling to meet Zeldris’ eyes. “You’re probably right, Cusack’s might be better.”

“Yeah…” Zeldris avoided looking at him too. Instead, his gaze found the window. Through the uncomfortable silence in the Boar Hat, you could just about make out the bustling sounds of the others: muffled shouting and laughing; as chaotic as ever. “Doesn’t mean it tastes like garbage?”

Meliodas smiled at the questioning tone in Zeldris’ voice. It made sense that he would be confused about everything that had transpired in the tavern before. After all, his experiences of the Seven Deadly Sins came from the battlefield, which wasn’t an incorrect image, just an incomplete one.

“Oh, don’t mind them,” Meliodas shrugged, feeling more at ease again. Even with the others outside, he still could feel the comfort of their presence. “They’re just messing about.”

Zeldris frowned again, glancing out the window once more before turning back to Meliodas. He raised an eyebrow at him, the confusion giving way to the curiosity of the Sins’ skewered opinion of Meliodas’ cooking.

“They sounded quite serious.”

“Well, they were,” Meliodas admitted. “Just, ah, got terrible taste, the whole bunch of them. They can’t appreciate good food when they get it. Plus, you’d be surprised how many things can poison a human.”

Zeldris’ brow rose even higher, “So why don’t you just make, I don’t know, human food?”

“I do! Sort of. Well, at least food that won’t poison a human, but…”

It was a good point, one Merlin had made countless times over their years together. Meliodas probably should have done that. Completely adapting to human cuisine. The Boar Hat definitely would have been more successful if he had. At the same time, there had always been something stopping him. He’d given up so many things from where he came from and hadn’t really considered he might ever go back to the Demon Realm, but he’d never manage to give up the cuisine. He’d started making food with human-friendly ingredients, even cooked it in human ways, but there had always been something demon about it, it seemed.

“Everyone thinks you’re a bad cook,” Zeldris finished his sentence.

“Yeah,” Meliodas shrugged. No human had ever called him a good cook. He had tried and failed and a part of him had been relieved. The part that had always held onto those memories of him and Zel and cooking together far away from the castle like a lifeline on the verge of bursting. Being branded the worst cook in Britannia had been a small price to pay to keep that. “Ban’s under the impression my cooking is so bad it could kill an immortal.”

Zeldris snorted again, poorly hiding it behind his hand, “Then he should try Grayroad’s cooking.”

“Oh yeah? I don’t think I’ve ever had Grayroad’s cooking,” Meliodas questioned, feeling himself slipping closer to that forbidden comfortable zone once more.

“Oh!” Zeldris looked up at the ceiling as he thought, nose crinkling up in the way it always did when he tried to suppress the too-big feelings. "Imagine if… Melascula tried to teach Galand how to cook.”

“Damn!” That was a horrifying thought. With Melascula being an actual snake, her cooking had always been considered exotic even to demons, and Galand had just been bad at it the few times he’d tried to cook something by himself.

“Exactly,” Zeldris said, chuckling under his breath.

And there they were again. Acting like brothers, an easy atmosphere Meliodas longed to keep wrapping around them. Maybe Zeldris did too, because while he averted his gaze again, poking around at the remains of his food, the smile was still there in the corners of his mouth. The ghost of what they both wanted – for things to just go back to how they’d been way back, except without their father or the war pushing them apart. The way things were supposed to be. Or should have been, if they had been any other brothers, if the last 3,000 years of hurt and guilt hadn’t existed.

“So, that's why he tried to save me from your food?” Zeldris asked, gesturing towards the door.

Oh, it would have been so easy. So, so easy to just go along with it, keep this thing going, and not let reality break it apart again. But Meliodas knew exactly what they were doing. Deflecting. Avoiding. Trying to pretend they weren’t those two brothers with millennia worth of regrets.

Meliodas could have done it too. Over the years, he had gotten really good at deflecting; questions, conversations, even his own emotions. He’d managed to keep his demon past a secret for 3,000 years for a reason. This, however, wasn’t something he could allow himself to deflect. If he did, he could risk losing his little brother all over again.

“Zel…” Meliodas mumbled softly, seeing the way Zeldris tensed up at his tone. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t play along and let himself be led into those easy, insignificant conversations. They needed to talk about this. “You didn’t come here to talk about my cooking.”

“No, I didn’t,” Zeldris agreed, the smile falling again. He made no move to continue. A new silence fell over them, tense and pushing for the words they’d left unsaid for so long.

Well, if Zeldris wasn’t going to talk, Meliodas would have to. He was the big brother here. He might not know how to be that, but he still was. And he was not going to lose Zel. Never again. At the same time, he’d spent 3,000 years avoiding this conversation. Besides Merlin, nobody had even known that Meliodas had a brother, not until the seal was broken and everything was revealed anyway. Despite all the years, it all still felt too raw. Meliodas knew how to be a traitor. He did not know how to be the brother Zeldris needed. Let alone the brother he would accept.

Meliodas took a deep breath, the words needed to be said forming on his tongue, but when he opened his mouth, deflection fell out of it instead; “So he is really dead, huh?”

“It… it doesn’t feel real,” Zeldris mumbled. Meliodas sighed, looking out the window.

“I know what you mean.” For so long their father had been a shadow hanging over his life, the blade cutting his hearts, for him to truly be gone, it felt surreal. Meliodas had been the one to deal the final blow but he still couldn’t believe it. Even long before the curse, the Demon King had been this relentless violence consuming his life. Now, he was free. They were free.

“Zel, I’m sorry.”

The words hung in the air, heavy yet cautiously hopeful; an olive branch in a decimated forest. Zeldris’ gaze flickered around the room, looking everywhere but at Meliodas. His hands tightened around the utensils until it seemed like he would break them in two. When he let go of them, it was to wrap them together in his lap in a forced casual way.

“Did you ever regret it?” Zeldris asked quietly. He didn’t need to specify, they both knew what he was talking about. The event that had probably kept them both sleepless at times. Meliodas wished he could give Zeldris the answer he wanted, the easy one, but nothing about this was easy.

“Some of it.”

“But you’d do it all again, wouldn’t you?” Zeldris’ voice didn’t hold any accusation, just a hurt resignation. Now this was the real kicker, wasn’t it? It wasn’t just the actions Meliodas had done in the past, but the knowledge that given the chance he would repeat.

“Some of it,” Meliodas admitted softly. “I would change some things, do things differently, but yeah… I would make the same choice.”

“Because of Elizabeth.” This time, there was a sharp edge to Zeldris’ words; a residual anger to the event the goddesses’ meeting with his brother had caused. Meliodas just shook his head, smiling sadly.

“Can you blame me?” Zeldris reacted as he’d expected, gaze flickering outside, towards the forest where Elizabeth and Gelda had disappeared for a walk earlier. He might not agree with what Meliodas had done, but Meliodas knew Zeldris understood his reason. “And it wasn’t just her. I-... Elizabeth made me believe there was another way, another life. One without wars and killing and hate. Even if I could have stood the idea of killing her, I don’t think I could’ve gone back to the way things were.”

Zeldris nodded his head, mutely, gaze still averted. To Meliodas, it still felt like they were skirting around the real topic. Meliodas turning against the demons had, of course, been a betrayal that hurt Zeldris, but it wasn’t the one that broke their brotherhood. No, that one was a lot more personal, a lot more painful. One that neither of them knew how to actually voice – one that needed to be addressed if they were ever going to move on together.

Meliodas would bare every one of his hearts if he had to, to get to be Zeldris’s brother again. So, he took a deep breath, the words slowly forming on his tongue, the deflections being pushed out of his mind; “I was going to come back for you, you know.”

Zeldris didn’t know. It was clear in the gaze that met Meliodas’. Without the darkness covering them, Zeldris’ eyes had always been so expressive, showing the emotions he masked everywhere else.

“I-” Hope. Pain. Betrayal. Longing. “What?”

“I was coming back for you,” Meliodas repeated. He needed to tell Zeldris those words just as much as Zeldris needed to hear them. “I wouldn’t- couldn’t just leave you with him like that. I shouldn’t have let you walk away that day.”

“Then why… Why didn’t you come back?” It wasn’t a question asked by the future Demon King, it was one asked by the little boy who’d just been told their mother wasn’t coming home. Meliodas closed his eyes, feeling the guilt cut through him all over again.

“I wanted to,” Meliodas promised. “I just… At first, I didn’t know how to. You had made it clear where you stood. I wasn’t sure if you would even listen to me if I tried talking to you, nor how to get the chance to talk to you alone… We talked about it a lot, me and Ellie, about how to protect you and Gelda, but before we could do anything, well…”

“You pushed the gods too hard and paid the price.”

Meliodas couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him at that. It wasn’t funny, but it all sounded so stupid when put so bluntly. How naïve an idea it had been really, the two of them going against gods to bring peace to all races – but at the same time, they had all just gone against a god and were the ones left standing. Maybe the naïvity was thinking they could still do it all alone back then. If they’d had people by their sides that night then maybe…

“Yeah,” Meliodas mumbled, any remains of humor fading away as he met Zeldris’ gaze. “When I woke up, everyone was gone. Elizabeth, you, everyone.”

Silence fell over them again, but this one was different, tense with the heaviness of their memories, yet warm with a newfound understanding.

“I, uh,” Zeldris hesitated for a moment. “I should have heard you out when you first told me you were leaving.”

Meliodas gave a small smile at that, feeling a weight lift off his chest. Maybe, just maybe, he did know how to do this after all. Maybe they still could. “Yeah, well, that’s the past, right? We have the whole future to listen to each other.”

“The future, huh…”

Zeldris’ gaze wandered over to the window again and Meliodas knew even before he looked over that the girls had returned; Zeldris’ smile said as much. Elizabeth and Gelda stood outside, side by side, talking with the rest of the Seven Deadly Sins.

“You know,” Zeldris started again after a while. “They seem to have gotten pretty close, maybe you- I’m sure Gelda would want Elizabeth and you to come visit us in the Demon Realm someday.”

Meliodas couldn’t have stopped the smile even if he wanted to; “Yeah! That- that sounds nice.”

“I- I mean,” Zeldris’ cheeks flushed a little when he glanced back at Meliodas, “somebody has to show you how to prepare this properly… brother.”

Too many emotions collided at once; the indignation of yet another person joking about his cooking, the shock of hearing his little brother call him that again after all these years, the overwhelming feeling of them all finally getting to be happy. The only sound that made it past Meliodas’ lips was a strangled gasp. However, before he could find his voice properly, the door slammed open loudly.

“Yes, yes! I’ll get it, gods , calm down, Diane-” Ban stopped in his tracks, clearly realizing he was interrupting a moment. “Whoops.”

Then his gaze fell to Zeldris’ almost empty plate, a look of horror overtaking his face.

“Oh my god, you actually do like his cooking!”

#ficwip 5k 2023 #nanatsu no taizai #seven deadly sins #nnt #sds #7ds #demon bros #meliodas nnt #zeldris nnt #ban nnt #libra writes #my fics #nnt fic #demon bros fic #meliodas can cook (demon food) au

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theyareweird · 13 days

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Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion, Emperor Lelouch —Aesthetic

Emperor Lelouch vi Britannia's Reign

At eighteen, Lelouch became the 99th Emperor of the Holy Britannian Empire. He abolishes all the oppressive laws and class systems of Britannia. Lelouch frees every colony, thereby abolishing the concept of "Numbers," and puts down all resistance to his goals. However, the benevolent acts are a smokescreen for his intention to take over the world, the Zero Requiem. Eventually, with no one left to oppose him, Lelouch becomes ruler of the world. Later, he arranges the public execution of the Black Knight leaders and the U.F.N. representatives. Suzaku, disguised as Zero, interrupts and kills Lelouch, the culmination of the Zero Requiem as they had planned. By directing all the hatred of the world onto him, Lelouch's death will serve to facilitate peace, while simultaneously redeeming his and Suzaku's sins by having them impose the greatest punishments on themselves: death for Lelouch who wishes for a tomorrow with his sister, life for Suzaku who wishes to atone for his sins through death. When Lelouch falls near Nunnally, she takes his hand and realizes he had sacrificed himself on purpose for her dream and world peace. Lelouch dies smiling in the arms of a crying Nunnally, saying he has destroyed the world and created it anew. Suzaku is left playing the role of Zero. In reality, Lelouch leaves the country, having faked his death to live out his immortal life with C.C. as the two are seen on a hay cart in the Japanese version. He gains the power of "Code" from his father, Charles, who got it from V.V. Lelouch was able to kill Charles since his Geass was fully evolved. But before doing that, he used his powers to transfer Charles's Code to him. Shortly before dying, Charles grabbed Lelouch's neck with his hand that bore the Code Geass brand. As such, the brand transfered to his neck, thus why he started wearing typical clothes beyond his school uniform, which conceal his neck.

#lelouch #lelouch vi britannia #lelouch lamperouge #emperor lelouch #anime #dark anime #thriller anime #supernatural #aesthetic #art #moodboard #kingcore #royalcore

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historia-vitae-magistras · 1 year

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Did their mother leave Rhys the sword specifically? Or How did he get it?

This is based on the very vague idea that religion and displacement killed Britannia, and this is probably the second wave of Anglo-Saxon invasions, so I refer to the Jutes to try and be specific but eh???? This takes place as the Germanic invaders come to close around the family hillfort, I fucken guess. Idk, There was one Celtic British tribe called the Brigantes in Ireland, Scotland and England and maaaaaybe in Wales. It's a fucken reach, but I'm basically writing fantasy at this point anyway. But anyway, as the Romans pulled out in the 5th century, that transformed into the Kingdom of Rheged in what is now Northern England and Southern Scotland. Arthur is about ten, Rhys is probably sixteen, Alasdair and Brighid about 18. Alasdair has been stabbed, and Brighid was sent away to her her own territories. None of this makes fuck all historical or chronological sense ngl but this scene gripped me by the neck and wouldn't let go until it was on paper. TW for offscreen violence and... consensual implied???? murder.

The Jutes breached the steep sides of the earthworks on the seventh day. The carnyx made their harrowing cries, and Rhys shoved a Jute down and pried his sword from the man's neck, whipping around as the carnyx blew two short notes and a longer third, the signal to summon him to mother. Arthur was on the inner walls with the other archers. Rhys saw his youngest brother flick blood from his fingers as he nocked another arrow and slipped between the maze of stone battlements as fast as his legs would allow him. Arthur glanced down, a frown on his face as his arrow flew, and then he was off the gallery, hanging from the beam and running next to Rhys for home.

"Go back," Rhys said. "Go back, I'll come for you after."

"Mother summoned you," Arthur said, keeping pace. His tunic was wearing thin at the elbows, all the wear of firing, and Rhys ached. He would have to find his baby brother a new one soon and find his cloak before winter closed in.

"Yes," Rhys said.

"I'm coming."

Rhys slowed, stopped for only a moment, his momentum nearly tipping Arthur over as Rhys gripped his arm.

"They breached the walls." He said and Arthur nodded, his too-large eyes watering.

"I know."

"Do you understand what comes next?"

"I... I want to say goodbye. Please. I'll go if you say, but I need to say goodbye."

Rhys squeezed his eyes shut, taking a breath, pain he had ever scarcely imagined twisting in his body. "When I say go, you go."

Another nod, more tears. Rhys held his brother's trembling hand. He was still so young, sandy hair still fine. He kissed his brother's forehead.

"I won't let anything happen to you today." Rhys said fiercely. "But you have to go when I say."

They moved again. In the stone hall, they found mother on the yew throne before the altar where she had once been worshipped.

"Mother!" Arthur leapt into her lap, crying freely now. Her hair was loose, streaming over her shoulders in firey spirals, so like Brighid's. He sobbed into her arms, and Rhys could barely keep his grip on his sword. Not even his own, Alasdair's old one. He'd lost his brother in the fray and Alasdair had not responded to the call. His mother cradled her youngest son and stared at Rhys, searching his face.

He nodded, and his understanding of his duty seemed to give her more strength than she'd had in decades. She gripped Arthur tighter.

"Don't go! Don't leave." Arthur cried and then in a much smaller voice. "Don't leave because of me."

Mother cradled his face, her war torc glinting. "It is not your fault. This is not your fault, sweet boy. All things must journey beyond the sunset. It is only my turn now."

"Where?" Arthur trembled. "Where will you go?"

Rhys had to close his eyes. The world had changed so much, Arthur could not immediately recall where they went in the end.

"West, my love. Beyond the sea and the sunset. With all those gone and all those yet to be. West."

Arthur clutched her tunic in his small, trembling hands, but his small mouth set in a line.

"Someday," She said and kissed him. "In some form. You will find me again, my love. My sweet boy. I love you. I love you so much. Find your cloak, find your bow and live, my sweet boy. Stay alive." She set him on his feet again.

"No," Arthur shook his head and his control broke complete, sobbing. "Mother no, please don't make me go."

"You must," She touched his cheek. "You must find your siblings and you must go. I will see you again."

"Wait for us, Mama." He cried. "Don't go too far west, please. Please."

"I will see you again." She said firmly, and her tears broke over her cheeks. "Go, my boy. Go now."

He wouldn't. He screamed and kicked. Rhys had to lift Arthur as he beat on his back and tossed him from the hall, slamming the doors behind him as he howled. His mother was in tears, beautiful and trembling. The great golden war torc around her neck glinted.

"I am sorry," She said and she gripped his hands. "I am so sorry I have to ask this of you."

"I know." He whispered.

"I won't die under the hooves of the Germans," She said, fiercely, her nails puncturing his palms. "I will die as I lived."

"I know," He said again, unsure how he had managed to keep his sobs boiling in his belly and not rising to spill out.

"You have to keep the peace, my love." She said. "You have to keep the peace between all of you."

"I will." He said and that was what broke the sob open. He dropped Alasdair's old sword. "Don't hate me when I fail. Please. I'll try but I---"

"Never." His mother flung him on her and held him like he was newly weaned and tiny again, clinging to her as all light and life and warmth in the world. "I will never hate you. I will love you and your siblings still when the fire in the sky goes out, Rhys."

The cacophony had grown louder, shouts and screams and clanging metal. She gripped him.

"My torc goes to your sister. What's left of the gold you can divide amongst yourselves." She lifted her hands from him and he went cold without them. She reached behind her seat and lifted her sword. "And this, this will have to be yours."

"Is this..." He stared at the leaf-bladed sword he had watched her wield all his life.

"Yes." She said and pressed it into his hands. "Through my heart, my love. The blood will soak the soil, but my cloak can cover the wound. Wait for your sister to bury me in the barrow. It's cold enough. You know where."

Rhys sobbed. They poured out of him in the rush of the great rivers. One, two, three great gulping sobs, and then he shook his head, rubbed his eyes and looked at her, breathing hard.

"It is time. Remember what I told you." Her dreams of her youngest son, her wisdom for Rhys, her love for all of them.

"Keep the peace. Arthur will one day build impossible iron ships. You love us."

"More than anything, I love you." She said, and he knelt before her on her throne. Her hands were white. She opened her cloak to reveal her tunic, and he lifted the sword.

#hws brittania #hws england #hws wales #my writing || cacoethes scribendi #Arthur || stone set in the silver sea #Rhys || my word for heaven was not yours #Eirian || into the nightlands #Britannia and her children || they made a desert and called it peace #historical inaccuracy? in my historical fantasy? more likely than you think

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probablyasocialecologist · 1 year

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For all the talk of the end of fossil fuels, the boom in electric vehicles and the rise of renewable energy, the role of oil in the UK economy remains vitally important. As things return to ‘normal’ after the pandemic there are still as many trucks on the road and almost as many planes in the sky, there is still as much plastic in the kitchen and pesticides on the fields. Yet the control of this bloodstream of our society is now in the hands of a very few wealthy men entirely hidden from public view, beyond the reach of politicians, trades unions or civil society groups.

Those that own the private equity companies want from Britain the highest return on their capital and the lowest taxes possible, with the least stringent regulations. The last thing they desire is for limits to be put on the sale of fuel as a way to tackling climate change. Whereas the heads of BP, Shell and other corporations may profess a commitment to decarbonise to appease an alarmed public, the private equity men are hidden from view and pressure.

James Marriott and Terry Macalister, Crude Britannia: How Oil Shaped a Nation

#Crude Britannia #oil #fossil fuels #energy

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ragesin · 3 months

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YOU KNOW MY NAME

The first born son of the King of all Demons is a person of many names, good and bad, collected over his unending lifespan.

Meliodas.　His first name. A gift from his mother given after his birth and one cherished dearly by him. It's intended meaning — the one inspired in his mother when she first laid eyes upon him — is honeyed grace, for his flecks of fledgling hair was as gold as honey. However there are other ways to interpret his name, two of which he accepts: pleasant song and beloved / praised king. The nickname stemming from it, Mel, simply means honey. Given the connotations in most cultures, he considers it an extremely intimate term and he only really lets people call him that when they're very close to him ( using honey on it's own in whatever context is fine, explicitly calling him Mel is when this guarded restriction applies ). Overall, Meliodas is his preferred and, as far as he's concerned, real name. The one he tends to introduce himself as and the one he wants to be remembered by — to be known as his mother's son, not his father's. ( side note: Aliadus and Meliadus are name variations he sometimes employs in place of Meliodas. Rouland, Rivalin and Felix among a number of different names has been used as aliases for him throughout the years )

████████.　The "true" name bestowed to him by his father, a brand etched into his soul and forever signifying his nature as one with the dark. Given that it was spoken into being by a god, it functions as his Other name. It originates from archaic Dieflig, so it's mostly unpronounceable to those not versed in the infernal language. When derived into the common tongues, it can be written and spoken as Tallwch. The most common interpretation of the name is "power", but it is also ascribed as pride and darkness. It's his name as much as Meliodas is and once upon a time he was proud to carry it. However, it is one that has come to be stained with disdain, contempt, and regret over the many years of his life thanks to the inherent association with the Demon King and as such has fallen largely into disuse by Meliodas himself. He will almost never refer to himself by this name.

Noctifer / Lucifer.　A part of the clan's culture surround the stars in their home realm. They regard them in a sacred manner as the final sparks of deceased demons who have long since passed on, and those born underneath them are watched over by honored ancestors. Many aspire to become a star when they die, so star imagery is not uncommon. However, things were turned on their head when Meliodas was born. A brand new, violent spark came into being, emitting near frightening light as the brightest object in the night sky. It was a phenomena a hitherto unseen: the creation of a star coinciding with a birth rather than a death. A living star. It appeared just before dawn and later on shone equally as fiercely on the cusp of sunset, although it never appeared to reach the apex of the sky. In time, it came to be known as the evening and morning star, Noctifer and Lucifer respectively for each aspect, safeguarding the night from the light of the day. His star personified him and he in turn embodied it. Thus the two names are able to be used interchangeably with Meliodas. Noctifer had more popular usage among demons, but Lucifer was the name that truly stuck for others beyond the demon realm. Following his betrayal and subsequent association with the Goddess Elizabeth and Stigma, the name took on entirely new meanings and he was mockingly known as the fallen angel. Far and wide, the hated name of light bringer became synonymous with God's most beautiful son, a prideful rebel who sinned by aspiring to be independent of Him, a devil traitor who's act of free will caused his fall from grace.

Inanna.　Lucifer is not the only name assigned to Meliodas due to the appearance of his star. Continuing to be an oddity, it also can be seen in the skies of Britannia and beyond, leading to many cultures around the world coming to their own conclusions about it's appearance. Some direct titles are related to some of the appearances he made in other parts of the world during the earlier warring days of his life. In one such place, the people there started calling him Inanna ( then Ishtar later down the line ) meaning Lady Of The Heavens, and he was known to them as the ancient Mesopotamian goddess of love, war, and fertility. Women in particular worshipped him by baking sweet cakes for him. The goddess image they held of him there led to Meliodas being inadvertently associated with many gods and goddesses that fall under his star which, in modern times, became conflated with Venus.

The Beast, Helel.　The Goddesses gave the name of Lucifer their own vehement spin, labelling him as Helel. It held different two meanings: shining one and the one the goddesses intended for Meliodas, to lament as in to wail or howl ( like a beast ). They viewed him as an ill omen upon the world and referred to him as a wicked star, a false light, and a dark messiah of the forces of evil. Essentially they viewed him as the equivalent of the antichrist before it was even a prophesied thing in the Book of Revelations.

The Destroyer.　Abaddon, Apollyon, Exterminans. All these terms refer to the same title given to Meliodas by his father that denotes him as the Apostle of Destruction. It was derived from his birth prophecy that said Meliodas would be an end of things to come. To some, he's viewed as the personification of apeiron, as the "angel of the abyss" and destruction.

Belias ( Satan ).　Belias is a word used to characterize the wicked or worthless and Satan means accuser, adversary or opponent. The terms are mostly used in reference to his father, some of the Demon King's own many and varied names, but often times Meliodas was viewed as an extension of the king, a harbinger and enactor of his divine will. The Demon King in a mortal vessel, an incarnation of the highest demon, the son and the father as one. In a sense the names are just as much his own. If Meliodas had a true family name, this would be likely be it. When he calls himself Belias or Satan, or uses it in place of a last name, it's always with a tinge of scornful irony and spiteful mockery.

#⁺✧⠀⠀`⠀headcanon⠀﹕⠀❪ both rage and tenderness. ❫#( not me pulling every title ever used to refer to Meliodas that i could find in the manga #and every bit of symbolism i could glean - intentional or not - from nakaba's hands like a starved creature #if i think of any more or come across something else in the manga i'll add it to here )#religion tw

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