#sometimes considered death bringers

[prince-kallisto]

Vil, Meleanor, and the Virgin Mary: Crowley’s Obsession

I haven’t seen anyone talk about this, but it’s driving me insane: Vil and Meleanor’s design parallel each other SO MUCH that it’s not even funny. In fact, I think Vil is foreshadowing EVERYTHING about Meleanor’s fate and Crowley’s plans.

I know I’m just coping lol, but I think I finally figured out why Crowley is so obsessed with the Fairest Queen and Pomefiore if he was Levan. Here me out: Vil is the representation of Meleanor.

Vil’s Overblot form is what immediately caught my attention. The way his cape connects to his hands, the night sky on his cape, the corset and the gems. The way the edges of his dress looks like old, torn paper, like history long since forgotten. Not to mention how he has claws like Crowley and is wearing Crowley’s same exact shade of blue. Just…this entire silhouette with the sleeves and crown matches Meleanor more than Malleus’s Overblot does. Strange how both Vil and Meleanor are associated with stars, when Crowley has a lot of star designs on the curtains in his office.

In his dorm uniform, look how the gloves and the lace has a similar design as Meleanor’s. Not to mention how in this vignette, Vil is like a “Queen reborn” with “two knights” at his side. Hm?? Like Meleanor with Lilia and Baul, perhaps?

Something I’ve always found strange is how much Crowley dotes on Vil. In both his history and flight lessons, Vil comments a lot on Crowley when a Special Lesson is triggered. Doesn’t it feel…almost uncomfortable??? Vil feeling “eyes” on him specifically when Crowley is there. And there isn’t clarification if Vil is speaking to Yuu or Crowley, but when he says “I’m just fine,” it makes me wonder if Crowley was asking Vil how he was doing.

This isn’t just limited to the lessons. Although Crowley played a less significant role in Book 5 than I thought he would, doesn’t he sound very affectionate when he says this?? “What I’ve always taken you for”…he holds great pride in Vil and how represents the history and beauty of Pomefiore. Crowley has NEVER shown this much of a bias towards any student before. Only Vil.

I can hear some of you asking: Why in the world would Crowley/Levan care so much about Vil if MALLEUS and DIASOMNIA exists? Here’s the thing: Vil simply represents more of who Meleanor was as an evil, proud princess.

He is proud, he is beautiful, he truly understands the power of his beauty, how to make people submit to him with harsh truths. He has a certain charm and pride in his accomplishments that Malleus doesn’t.

But what REALLY got me was the religious symbolism in Vil’s Overblot form. @pianostarinwonderland made a really amazing post on the resemblances Vil has to the Virgin Mary and the Lady of Sorrows.

The Lady of Sorrows is another “form” of the Virgin Mary- which ironically enough, is depicted with SEVEN swords piercing her HEART. Sometimes she is depicted with only one sword- more on that later. The Virgin Mary is considered to be the holiest of saints- a figure of worship. She is also considered to be the “god-bearer.” Her death is referred to as the Dormition of the Mother of God, Aka the “falling asleep of the god-bearer.”

And back to the swords in her heart, the seven swords represent the Seven Sorrows, but the singular sword represents the Prophecy of Simeon.

The prophecy of Simeon said something like Mary’s child would be the RISE and FALL of many in Israel, and that a sword would pierce through Mary’s heart too, as an allusion to the crucifixion. Because Mary would suffer alongside her son, the one curse of motherhood. Stars are also significant in Christian mythology, like the star of Bethlehem to guide the wise men to the birthplace of Mary’s child. Another significant “star” is the Morning Star, Aka Lucifer. The Morning Star title is based off Venus, whose Greek name means “the light bringer” or “the DAWN bringer.”

If all of these things I’m saying reminds you about the imagery in TWST, I feel like this is purposeful! Lets back up and go over each of these points and how it relates to TWST (I am not religious, so if any of this is inaccurate, please let me know!)

Crowley in the opening seems to worship his “benefactor,” and I’ve been theorizing that it’s Meleanor whose trapped in the Dark Mirror. She is quite literally a figure of worship to him- the holiest of saints. And with Meleanor being the mother of Malleus, who is one of the most powerful mages in the world, doesn’t it sound similar to be a “god-bearer?”

The swords through her heart not only sounds like a connection to Meleanor’s death, but to Maleficent’s too. The sword of truth piercing her heart- but not only that, Vil’s Overblot crown LITERALLY has the design of a singular sword piercing through a heart. Yes, its a representation of the Evil Queen demanding Snow Whites heart, but why is Vil’s design combined with the Virgin Mary of all figures??

I bolded “prophecy” because I think Levan is heavily connected to prophetic powers, but doesn’t this prophecy sound A LOT like Meleanor’s blessing on Malleus? Malleus would be the benevolent star to the Fae, and an evil star to humankind. Like the Star of Bethlehem for the Fae, and the Morning Star for humans…and the Morning Star is heavily connected to the DAWN. Dawn Knight? Silver???

It doesn’t help that Dragon Fae seem to be ostracized by humans for their horns. Maleficent in Sleeping Beauty though, refers to her powers as “powers of Hell,” heavily leaning toward his demon like design.

Meleanor suffered to protect Malleus. She gave him up and fought an entire army to better his chances of survival because she loved him so much. And if Meleanor is trapped in the mirror and will be brought back to “life,” all of this suffering stemmed from the fact she sacrificed herself for Malleus.

SNDJDHSJSJDJD STOP IT TWST WHY DOES THIS ALL FIT TOGETHER SO WELL????? YANAAAAA HELP

But do you see what I mean on how I think Vil is slyly foreshadowing EVERYTHING? Not only that, but look at his Overblot design again. At his waist, there are sharp crystal-looking objects surrounding him. I think these represent broken mirror shards. This, combined with all the coffin imagery at NRC, Epel’s Unique Magic, and Malleus’s making everyone fall asleep like Aurora or Snow White…

Perhaps Meleanor really is trapped in the mirror, put in a death-like sleep…but one day she will be freed, like Aurora or Snow White with the power of true loves kiss. Until then, Vil is the closest representation of her to Crowley. Someone who understands the power of beauty to make others submit, someone to worship.

#twst vil schoenheit #twst vil #vil schoenheit #twst overblot #twst meleanor draconia #twst meleanor #Meleanor draconia #twst Crowley #dire Crowley #twst levan #Twst levan draconia #twst dire Crowley #twst theory #twisted wonderland #KallistoPost #crowley is levan theory

[originalaccountname]

along with the "was Chuuya or Oda more important to Dazai" debates (stupid question, why compare the impact of completely different relationships), I often see arguing over who was worst or better for him.

Putting aside for a moment that these are little imaginary guys in a fantasy setting that are vehicles for the story and themes and therefore their words and actions and their consequences are all meant to carry the story and themes, so applying 1:1 real-life logic is meaningless,

It's both. It's both, it's both it's always both. This is Bungou Stray Dogs, things are always messy and good things come from from the worst situations and good intentions create horrible dilemmas and things are unfair and people make mistakes and there is always love and perseverance and growth anyway.

Meeting Chuuya and having to fight through the events of Fifteen together gave Dazai the slightest drive to keep going, even if his reasoning ("to witness death from up close") was dubious.

Chuuya in Storm Bringer saw Dazai as a reflection of all his doubts and weaknesses. That hallucination in the lab, "you're like me, your birth was a mistake"? Those are Chuuya's insecurities projected on Dazai's passiveness that Chuuya can't stand. Dazai to Chuuya is what happens when you give up and stop fighting, and so Chuuya tends to see Dazai in a grimmer light, make a bigger monster out of him than he really is.

But Chuuya also serves as Dazai's wake up call (cue Dead Apple soundtrack) and keeps him from slipping too far. Yes Chuuya punched Dazai square in the face, but it was because Dazai was seeing an ally's death as an opportunity for him instead of a death. And it worked! Because Dazai then got into action not 2 days later to start on ending the conflict that had already been ongoing for over 2 months!

Meanwhile, in the world of death Dazai put himself into, Oda's single most important principle was not to kill. And he was such a strange man, near-impossible to guess, simply because he was so uniquely weird, even a bit stupid at times, which made him interesting to be around. He became a good friend (yes friend, not mentor or guardian) that always remained non-judgmental and asked almost nothing of the genius boy.

But Oda also saw himself as someone unworthy of criticizing anyone else. He had many thoughts about Dazai's behaviour and how he saw he was hurting, but wouldn't consider himself as someone who could do something about it. So he said nothing and did nothing while Dazai self-destructed. But he cared! When Dazai provoques the Mimic soldier into shooting him, Oda is scared! He just thinks he has no right to step in Dazai's head like that, and they come to an impasse.

And his last words. They may sound harsh, and really, they are, but they came from his own experience and were meant to force Dazai to reconsider his choices right now. It was the first time Oda spoke out on Dazai's issues, and he had limited time. No, there isn't gonna be a magic solution that will fix him one day. The time Oda was the most content was when he was taking care of the kids, that's why losing them was so hard. Saving people feels good and keeps you going. So he told Dazai to go do that, or things would only get worse. He knows his friend better than anyone else, and his friend suffers the same aimless life he was trying to escape himself.

Chuuya and Oda were both people Dazai found interesting and dragged into the mafia with him. They were both among the few people that weren't intimidated by his high mafia profile. They both involuntarily fed into his self-destruction, and they both did things that saved him in the long run. They both helped and destroyed him in different ways on their own time and it was messy and sometimes good and sometimes bad...

... but it's always both.

#oof i needed that off my chest #everyone is flawed and everyone is trying. also they are CHARACTERS and their actions' consequences are relative #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd analysis #bsd meta #bsd dazai #bsd dazai osamu #bsd chuuya #bsd nakahara chuuya #bsd oda #bsd odasaku #bsd oda sakunosuke #apparently i talk sometimes

[badgerbl00d]

yes, your highness

☆ characters: vinsmoke sanji

☆ up next: smoke sesh: stoner!law x reader

☆ summary: sanji has been your loyally devoted knight for over a year now, he knows you like the back of his hand and would risk his life for you without second thought... just how deep does his loyalty run?

You sat at your window sill, the thin cotton fabric of your dress draped over your body and pooled at your ankles. There was a heavy fog outside, leaving a generous layer of dew drops covering the glass window in your room. The quiet peace of midnight air slowly dragging your eyelids back down.

Knock. Knock.

A gentle knocking on your bedroom door snapped you out of your sleepy lull. Your feet stepped against the cold stone of your floor.

“Hello, Sanji,” you said.

“Ready for our walk? It’s already nearly two hours past our usual time,” Sanji’s warm voice woke you up.

“Oh! Yes! Yes! I’m ready, I just need a few moments to, uh..” you scrambled to your feet, throwing on your white linen undergown and frantically brushing your hair out, “To… get pretty!”

“Doubt you need to change anything,” he mumbled to himself.

After a glance in the mirror, you decided it was good enough. 

It was highly inappropriate for you to be alone with a man in only an underdress, but Sanji was your personal guard. He’d seen you in your undergarments before- albeit accidentally, but you were sure he’d have no issues with it. You paused for a moment, considering the risk, but your father was away on business for the week, so against your better judgment, you slipped out the door to greet your guard. 

When you stepped out Sanji had to physically calm himself. The sight of something as delicate, as beautiful, as kind as you in such… such improper clothing was more than he could handle.

“Y/n- Are you out of your mind?!” 

You giggled, “What?”

He felt himself getting lightheaded as blood rushed to his face. 

“Y-you’re barely wearing anything! The things people would say- What if someone sees you dressed like that?!”

“Someone already has,” you pointed out, grabbing his arm and starting to make your way toward the gardens. He sighed, praying you wouldn’t notice his more lewd physical disturbances tightening his pants, and desperately hoping no one else would be awake this late.

“And I’m not the only one dressed improperly,” you commented, gesturing towards his outfit made up of a white undershirt and cotton pants, and of course, a weapon or two just in case.

He usually wore his armor, which he kept perfectly polished, ready to defend you at a moment’s notice, but you both knew that it was an unnecessary formality and that even without armor there was not a person alive who would get past him. 

“Forgive me— I did not think metal armor would be necessary for our evening stroll.” 

“I like this look better,” you said, “It suits you more.” 

A bright pink blush flushed his cheeks, “I suppose I cannot say that I dislike your clothing. It looks- very.. very pretty.” 

You smiled, and kept walking, asking him which of your flowers he thought would be ready for picking, what he wanted for breakfast tomorrow, and if he wanted to go into town on the weekend. 

He’d been your royal guard for over a year now. 

His name was feared throughout the country before he’d taken employment in your castle- he was known across seas as a bringer of death, a terror with a blade, an unfeeling barbarian. 

You never quite understood why he- a man of such ferocity and dignity- agreed to your father’s offer, the relatively easy job of guarding a princess. 

A generous paycheck? A desire to settle down? You decided it didn’t really matter but you still couldn’t help that sometimes you felt bad that the most you could offer him were flower gardens and afternoons spent reading. 

Sanji had always assured you that he was perfectly content in his position. 

He accompanied you everywhere. Every day from the moment you woke up to the moment you’d slept he was by your side. You’d had a very liberated childhood, but it was lonely. Your older brothers were too preoccupied with their studies and training, and your father was far too busy to pay you any attention. 

When you finally came to appreciate your isolation, you were handed a companion. A man you’d never met to watch your every move and monitor you like a guard dog.

He was a paid companion whose job had nothing to do with being your friend, but still. Company was company. But it felt like too little too late. And it didn’t help that the premise of this companionship was supervision.

The first few weeks, you’d made clear that you didn’t appreciate his presence. Any efforts he made at conversation were ignored or belittled, and he spent most of his time trying to get you to at least acknowledge his presence. 

One night, he’d been instructed not to let you leave castle grounds and informed you that you’d stay put in your room for the night. What were you- a child with no ability to defend yourself or make your own decisions? You still remember the suffocating frustration you felt, pacing back and forth around your room while your knight attempted to talk to you as he guarded your closed door. 

You’d finally tired yourself out and decided to sit by the window when you had an idea. 

It took at least twenty minutes before Sanji noticed that the shuffling and whining coming from the room had stopped. 

“Your highness?” he’d called. When you didn’t answer he knocked, “I’m coming in- Make yourself decent if you aren’t already.”

A cool breeze hit him as he opened the door, panic spreading through his body as he saw a trail of tied sheets leading down through your opened window. 

He’d found you nearly two miles from the castle, sitting by a stream. You were shivering from the cold, not having bothered to put on shoes or a jacket. 

He put a hand on your shoulder, which you jerked forward. 

Hot, angry tears poured down your cheeks. 

“Leave! I can defend myself!”

He stepped back, not wanting to further upset you. 

You turned to face him, “I don’t need a chaperone! I am not a child.” 

You had started to yell, and a worried look crept onto his face. He raised his hands, trying to urge you to be quiet. 

You scoffed, “You’re telling me to be quiet? How dare you- I am a princess-”

A branch snapped and Sanji’s blade was drawn within seconds. 

Fear froze you in place, the hairs on your neck raising. 

“Get behind me.”

You obeyed without a second thought. 

“Stay here. Don’t move.”

He walked in the direction of the sound, leaving you where you stood. 

Your breathing quickened. Thick forest surrounded the castle and countless animals lived there- it was probably just a bear, you’d told yourself. Yet, a persistent nagging feeling had you looking around, nervous something was going to pop out at any moment. 

Another moment of unbearable silence passed. And another. 

You wanted to call out for him but you knew better. 

Suddenly the sound of metal against metal echoed out from where Sanji had disappeared. 

Your breath hitched and you felt your stomach sink- you knew he was strong but… what if? 

The struggle continued for a few moments and you stayed put, not daring to move. 

Murmuring silent prayers under your breath you waited for him to reemerge from the wood. 

From behind you, another sound rang out. The crunching of leaves under a heavy boot. 

Your breathing was quick and erratic, as goosebumps flared up on your skin. 

You felt a hand wrap around your mouth and pull you back- your scream getting cut midway. 

You were jolted around roughly, but felt your captor’s strength falter when he bent down to reach for a bag. 

You bit his hand- hard, feeling your teeth break the skin. He let out a cry of pain, but before you could make it far something heavy hit the back of your head. 

The last thing you remembered was the sight of a bloodied Sanji, running toward you. 

He’d stayed with you for the entire process of your recovery, refusing to leave your side.

When you finally mustered up the strength to ask him what had happened, he simply said that it wasn’t anything for you to worry about and he was happy you were okay. 

After you’d fully recovered a few days he apologized for his behavior, “I realize how belittling it must feel to be constantly supervised. If I am ever overbearing, please don’t hesitate to tell me. I wish only for your happiness and well-being.”

You felt immense guilt and frantically responded, “No! No! It was my fault completely I was being childish and immature- You- you saved me. I am forever indebted to you.”

You became more appreciative of your time together after that incident and realized how much you enjoyed his company.

He didn’t speak down to you the way men normally did. He treated you, not just like a princess or a pretty girl with nothing of note to offer to a conversation, but as a friend. You felt valued and seen. He even shared secret information with you and asked for your opinion on his battle strategies. 

You became inseparably close.

You’d always been a fan of evening walks, it was your favorite time to pick flowers and the castle’s inhabitants would be asleep until morning.

It helped that you also loved being alone with him. You could speak freely and honestly. There was no pressure to look or act properly. The longer you’d known him, the more you yearned for uninterrupted time with him. To be around him, to talk to him, and be with him was a reward like none other. 

He held your arm in his, walking with you toward the greenhouse. 

You noticed he was quieter tonight than usual.

It wasn’t uncommon for Sanji to listen to you talk and only offer some insight when asked, but something seemed to be augmenting his silence.

It had been a long day for the both of you, as it always is when your father goes away on business. Leaving things in your brothers’ hands was always a risk he was hesitant to take, and therefore he had begun to include Sanji in the daily responsibilities when he was gone. 

He’d been running around all day making sure that everything was in order and exactly as the king had left it. 

“Miss Y/n,” Sanji’s voice snapped you out of your daze. He spoke your name with an odd sincerity like he was savoring the way it sounded on his tongue.

“Hm?” You looked up at him, leaving your arm hooked onto his, “You know you don’t need the ‘Miss’. You already speak my name so sweetly, it needs no titles attached when coming from your mouth.” 

He ignored your comment entirely. Perhaps you shouldn’t have said that. Did it sound too forward?  

“There is something I’ve been meaning to tell you, though I am hesitant to do so.” 

You giggled, “You know that you can tell me anything. I am more than happy to listen. It is the least I can do for you after you’ve endured months of my rambling.” He seemed more tense than usual and was avoiding responding or laughing at any of your comments. Your stomach turned, something was wrong. 

“Your father- His Majesty has offered me the position of Grand Commander.”  

You froze and let his arm go, unnoticed by your guard who continued forward for several steps before noting your absence. 

Grand Commander? So soon? But your father easily had over three hundred men to choose from… Why yours? Would he be leaving soon? Who would replace him? The very thought of him leaving made you sick-

“Oh! Has he?!” The disappointment in your voice was evident.

“Erm, yes. I was notified of the opportunity yesterday morning.”

An inexplicable hurt ebbed in your chest. You’d barely see him anymore. It was the highest position a royal guard could be offered, and the greatest honor imaginable. If you ever saw him it would likely only be at ceremonies but even then, he’d be on duty. Aside from a quick glance, you wouldn’t be able to even acknowledge one another.  All the mornings you’d spent picking flowers, the afternoons spent reading and napping with him… Would he remember them?

“That’s fantastic,” You fought back the painful lump in your throat, “Anything less would really be a demotion.”

Sanji lightly laughed. 

You couldn’t hold this against him. He was your friend, and should one not want the best for their companions? He had been hand-selected for the Royal Guard and once he’d become a member he had always had his heart set on this position. To achieve it in so little time… You should be proud. A slight pang of guilt spread through your chest at your jealousy.

Was it normal to hurt like this over the loss of a friend? 

“I have a week to decide if I’d like the position,” his voice was quieter than usual, more monotone, “His Majesty has allowed time for.. accommodations and such.” 

“I see,” you stated. 

“I don’t-” he started, seemingly unable to get the words out, “I don’t want to be inconsiderate of your feelings.” 

At this, you let out a bitter laugh. By now your contempt was no secret.

“My feelings? I don’t quite understand what importance I have in this decision. 

Though I suppose I don’t understand what good an inexperienced knight who spent most of his time in the company of a princess would do.” 

Sanji inhaled sharply, turning back to look at you with an unexpected venom in his stare, “You think it was by choice? Do you truly think that I assigned myself to flower picking every morning? That I want to spend my time reading? I am the strongest man in this castle- by far. And to think I’ve spent my time with a girl who’s never had to worry about a single thing in her life!” He spat his words out at you. 

Every word he said left a bruise on your heart. But your sadness had long given way to anger.

You walked faster, passing him and ducking beneath vines to step onto the gazebo, but he followed in close pursuit. 

“I came here with the sole intention of rising through the ranks. I’ve worked for years, trained for years, and given everything! My entire life has been dedicated to the refinement of skills necessary for the very position I’ve been offered. Do you think that I serve only as an idle companion? That I am only good for accompanying you as you lounge and fret around all day?” 

“Then go,” your vision was entirely blurred by tears that you were fighting to keep where they were. You would not cry in front of a man who had wounded you the way Sanji had. 

“Go and never let me hear of you again.” 

Silence hung in the air, still and heavy. 

You bit back sobs, inhaling and exhaling through your nose, trying to keep the flood at bay. 

Still, no sound. Sanji stayed put in place. 

You whipped your head around to look at him. 

“Do not torture me like this. This is what you’ve always wanted!” You raised your voice, anxious and increasingly mad at your confusion, your inability to understand him.

“It has always been what I’ve wanted. But I cannot accept it.”

“Why?! Why not?! Why would you force yourself to stay and suffer with me? Since you have such adamant hatred for your current position?!”

“Because! Is it not obvious?!”

You said nothing. Sanji continued, “ If you are not feigning innocence and truly mean that you do not know then you are a bigger fool than I previously believed.”

You both were quiet. And tears ran freely down your face. 

“I have- Y/N, since the first time we met I have felt for you things I’ve felt for no other.

I have loved y-” 

“Don’t!  Do not- Do not say that,” you spit the command out with more intensity than intended.

Sanji quickly closed his mouth. He held onto eye contact for another minute before turning his gaze down. 

Fuck. You’d hurt him.

No pain was worse than interrupting that sentence, but if someone knew, if anyone found out? You’d never recover from the scandal. A young lady and her knight? You’d be sent to one side of the country and Sanji to the other. You’d really never see him again.

“If I may speak freely,” he started, speaking barely above a whisper, scared that if he spoke any louder he might be stopped, “I never want to leave your side.”

He paused, letting the sound of night fill the closing space existing between you. Somewhere distant there was laughter. The wind picked up, as if on cue, and petals littered the ground. Chills were sent up your spine. The silence was suffocating.

“Every day I would wake you up with tea. 

Every night, kiss you to sleep. 

I will care for you.

I will make you soup when you are ill and I’ll blow out the candles in the evening so you mustn't waste your pretty breath. 

I would forsake my name, my title, and my home.

I will gladly take yours- and, and if you refuse to have me then we can create new ones. 

To be yours, to have you-” Sanji paused only for a second, carefully reading your expression. He saw the sadness on your face, the surprise, the regret.

“Please do not ask me to stop now, you know I will heed your every command. 

If this is- If this is truly my last chance to tell you how I feel then let me say it all.” 

You nodded, allowing him to continue. Your heart tugged wildly in your chest and the pools of tears resting on your eyes began pouring down your face.

“From the day I met you, the minute I took your hand to my lips, the second that I swore my oath to protect you… You have been nothing less than my entire purpose.

To see you laugh, hell, to even have the tiniest chance of seeing you smile, is compensation more than any salary, any honor, any position your father could offer me.

I have thought of nothing, of no one, but you. 

Most beautiful, most kind, most loving Y/n. 

I love you.”

Your tears poured freely and you ran into his arms, sinking into his embrace when he hugged you. He sat down, bringing you with him. 

“S-Sanji, I love you too-” you gasped between sobs, “B-but what if s-someone finds out? We’ll never see one another again!”

He placed countless kisses on the top of your head and rubbed your back.

“It will be perfectly fine,” he said, his voice immediately calming you, “Do you trust me?”

You buried your head in his chest, covering his shirt with tears, and nodded.

He pulled your face up to look at him, wiping the tears from your face. 

“I love you,” you sniffled. 

He laughed and kissed your forehead. 

You crossed your legs and sat between his, bringing your hands to either side of his face. 

“I only wish we’d done this sooner,” you said softly, “Then I wouldn’t have had to wait so long for this.”

You kissed him, wrapping your hands around his neck. 

His lips were soft and he tasted like rain. 

He wrapped his arms tighter around your waist, pulling you into him.

You pulled away slightly, a string of saliva connecting your lips. A soft moan escaped you, driving Sanji absolutely insane. 

Your half-lidded eyes and puffy lips had him seeing stars. 

Once more he pressed his lips to yours, lightly running his tongue over your bottom lip and slipping it into your mouth. 

You moaned into the kiss, sending blood rushing directly to his cock. 

He pulled away before it escalated any further, much to your (very obvious) disappointment.

“Shall we return? It is late,” he said, pressing kisses to your cheeks, still holding you. 

You nodded, accepting his hand as he helped you up. 

He placed a kiss on your hand and trailed them up your arm.

He stood back up and you reached towards his lips one more time, standing on the tips of your toes to be able to reach him.

The walk back was lovely. The air was cool and Sanji held your hand in his for the first half, sneakily adjusting so that he could wrap an arm around your waist.

You talked carelessly with one another. 

“And just so you know,” he said, laughing, “Being your guard is no easy work.”

“Oh, I’m sure! Nothing is more strenuous than picking flowers for me,” you responded.

“I’m referring more to the four kidnapping attempts and the singular, dreadfully planned assassination attempt. Aside from the one I saved you from.” 

“What!? So it was a kidnapping!” 

Sanji laughed, teasing you about your obliviousness, and you simply argued that he must be good at his job because you truly had no idea. 

You arrived back at your room and stood at the door. Sanji, leaning against the wall, was silent. 

You’d stayed out much later than expected. The background noise of the town had died down, and it felt like the entire world was sleeping. It was cold and the stone floor was like ice under your bare feet. 

You both were under the influence of nighttime boldness- that feeling of courage that lets you speak freely so long as it is dark out and you are alone.

“I-,” Sanji spoke.

“I’m quite t-,”

“My apologies, go ahead,”

“N-no you spoke first,” 

Sanji continued, “I do really, truly love you.” 

“I love you,” you avoided his gaze, hiding the furious blush on your face, “I- I wish I had told you sooner…..” Your voice trailed off.

“It is past midnight,” he mused, “And though I love you, I still have the responsibility of seeing that you are in bed at a sensible hour.” 

You laughed, opening your door. 

But you didn’t want to leave him. Not tonight. 

You walked into your room, lingering at the entrance.

“Stay,” you whispered, “Sleep with me.” 

In an instant you felt his arms around you, he was pressing warm, fervent kisses to your neck and cheeks- still in disbelief that it was your soft skin, he felt against his palms. 

“You do not know how long or how desperately I have wished to hear those words.”

You blushed and walked him towards your bed.

He sat, looking up towards you, his hands resting on your waist. He looked at you with a flattering adoration, enamored with your presence, wanting to take you in, your smell, your voice, your presence. 

“I’d pray to you, you know.”

“And I’d answer your prayer,” you bent down, softly kissing his lips, running a hand through his hair.

Sanji removed his shoes, as well as his shirt, slowly peeling it up and over his head. Your heart skipped a beat, seeing how sculpted he was.

This was to be expected of a man of his skill, but his armor hid it so well that you felt shocked by his form. 

You’d never before seen him so exposed. Scars littered his arms and chest, markings of his experience. 

You took a seat on his lap, lightly tracing the bigger ones, and pressing kisses to his neck.

His hands ran up and down your back filling you with an eagerness for more.  

Silence fell upon you again, though this time the tension within it was different. 

This time, neither of you was hiding resentment or yearning for the other. It was a warmer, more indulgent tension. One that you were both desperate to break. 

His lips were parted, and his half-lidded eyes looked up at yours with anticipation you had started to feel yourself. 

Arousal pooled between your thighs, the sight before you was too much to handle. You bit your bottom lip and looked at Sanji.

“Untie my dress,” you whispered. 

He stayed silent but he turned you around on his lap, his strong hands easily picking you up so that your back was toward him. 

You savored the feeling of his calloused fingers digging into your flesh. 

You were shaped divinely, and he felt pressure start to build in his pants. 

He pulled at the bow, letting the string come loose. He pulled the corset backing open and slipped his fingers under your sleeves. 

You pulled the dress down and let it fall to your waist, the cool air let in by your open window snapping you out of your dreamlike state. 

You were suddenly very aware of your position.

Sanji brought his hands around to your exposed breasts, softly circling his fingers around your hard buds. 

You gasped and melted into his lap, softly panting as he created new sensations you’d never experienced. Your skin felt electric, his hot, quick touches blurring your thoughts. 

“S-Sanji….,” you whispered.

“Take off the dress.” 

His voice had dropped an octave and there was a neediness in his tone that had you melting.

You slowly stood up, letting your clothing fall to the floor, and turned to look at him. You were blushing uncontrollably, the warmth in your body spreading to your cheeks. 

You were entirely exposed to him.

He brought your hand to his lips, “Now your panties.” 

Your brain nearly burst from the overwhelm this request brought. 

Never had you taken orders from him- not unless you were in danger. “I-...,” you did not know what to say, “Could you? F-for me, I mean.”

Sanji nodded, slipping his index finger under the waistband. You stepped out of your undergarments, giggling when he slipped them into his pocket with a wink. 

He pulled you closer to him, kissing your lower stomach and thighs, circling just around your dripping heat.

Never in your life had you felt such desperation. He was so close to touching where you wanted, but it wasn’t enough. You let out a whine, earning a chuckle from your knight.

“What commands does the princess have for me tonight?” he asked, looking up with a sly grin on his face.

“Only to do as you please.” 

Softly, and so, so slowly, Sanji licked a stripe up from your belly button to your sternum, closing his eyes as he savored how you tasted, how sweet your warm skin tasted on his tongue. You gasped, taking a handful of dirty blonde hair into your fist, not-so-gently trying to urge him downward.

A light laugh escaped his throat as he finally relented. 

“Lie down, your highness.”

Sanji guided you down to your bed, leaving his wide hand on the back of your head until it was comfortably rested on a pillow. 

He sank to the floor, every so softly parting your legs. 

A moan slid past his lips at his view. Your pussy was as hypnotizing as you were, so wet that you were dripping onto the sheets. He watched your hole tighten at the mere anticipation of being touched.

Unable to play the patient lover any longer, Sanji pressed his tongue to your hole, moaning again at your taste.

He ran his tongue up and down your soft folds, savoring your wetness.

You let out an angelic whimper, grabbing a fistful of his hair.

The knight slowly slid his tongue up, covering your cunt in your arousal. 

Your grip tightened against his scalp when he reached your clit, it was aching for some kind of stimulation, which Sanji gladly provided.

He lapped at it, simultaneously sliding a thin finger into your hole. 

You were already a moaning panting mess under his touch, unable to form a solid thought, only wanting more. 

Gradually, he picked up his pace, lewd, wet, slurping noises filling the room, clouding your thoughts. He slid in another finger, feeling your pussy tighten around him even more. 

His tongue swirled in lazy circles around your clit, and your stomach started to twist most deliciously. You saw stars. Sanji’s moans and whimpers blending with your own. 

“S-Sanji,” you panted, interrupting yourself with your moans, “More.” 

He curled his fingers, hitting a spot inside of you that set you on fire from the inside out.

Your back arched against the bed, the coil in your stomach tightening. 

His pace picked up, he gave you no time to adjust as you blinked back tears and took everything he was giving you. 

In an instant you gushed onto his fingers, soaking your sheets, moaning his name.

Sanji slowly removed his fingers, sucking the liquid from your thighs and hole. He stood up, leaning over you, pressing chaste kisses to your lips.

“Satisfactory?” he hummed.

You nodded, out of breath, and unable to form words. He tasted like you, a tart, salty flavor spreading on your tongue.

“Can you continue? Would you like more?” 

Sanji’s own desperation began to slip through his tone, the slight whimper in his voice gave away his bluff.

Eagerly you nodded, “Please, Sanji.”

You watched as he pulled his pants off. 

You gasped at the sight, unsure you’d be able to fit him anywhere in you.

Sanji laughed at your amusement, “How flattering, Princess. Don’t worry, my love, we’ll go slowly.” 

He rubbed his head against your clit, ever so lightly, so as to only tease you. 

You nodded, placing your hands on his shoulders as he lined his length up with your slick-covered pussy. 

He bent down to kiss you as he slowly pushed past your puffy lips, his tip slipping in. 

You whined as he slid more of himself in, needing a moment to adjust with every inch he slid in.

His muscled tensed and flexed as he used all his self-control to not slam into you. 

You bit your lip, nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders, as he picked up his pace, as you took deep breaths and fit more and more of him into you. 

He finally bottomed out, a low groan escaping him as his entire length felt you throbbing and pulsing around him. 

“T-taking it so well,” he praised, “So tight.”

He started to thrust in and out of you, the firm tug of your pussy leaving him dizzy.

You blushed, the pleasure intensifying as he stared hungrily at you, going fast enough now that every time his hips slammed into yours a loud smack resonated throughout the room.

You writhed around Sanji, moaning into his mouth as he brought his lips to yours, gladly swallowing the delicious sounds you were giving him. 

A thin layer of sweat covered his forehead as he neared his climax, his hips starting to falter in their steady rhythm. 

He sucked harshly against your neck, leaving your mind hazy.

“Sanji!” you cried.

The sound of his name coming from your honeyed voice pushed him to the edge and with a strained moan of your name he finished. 

He gushed inside of you, feeling his seed pouring out and onto your ass and thighs snapped the coil in your stomach and you pulled him against you as you came a second time. 

Sanji struggled to hold himself up, not wanting to put all his weight onto you. 

He slowly pulled out, watching as your cunt leaked onto the bed. With one finger he pushed it back in. 

“How is my pretty girl?”

You were breathless and exhausted. Your hair was messy and your chest was marked with wine red spots all over. 

He helped you sit up and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“Let me know you’re okay, sweetness,” he asked, his thumb resting on your chin. 

Your eyes were half closed and your chest rose and fell with deep breaths. 

“‘m okay,” you said. 

“Wait here.” 

You nodded, feeling sleep spread over your body.

Within a few minutes, he was back with a damp washcloth, a glass of water, and a new blanket. 

He let you drink as he knelt in front of you, parting your legs and cleaning you up, pressing soft, loving kisses up and down your worn-out body. 

“You really are as stunning as they all say you are,” he commented, kissing your thighs, while rubbing your back, “Your beauty is every bit as heart-stopping as everyone believes it to be…”

You laughed, running your fingers through his hair, bringing a band underneath his chin, and bringing his gaze up to meet yours, “So are you.”

Sanji helped you into a new nightgown, carrying you to your window seat while he changed out the blankets.

“We’ll have someone clean that in the morning,” he said, a sly smile on his face.

He carried you back to bed, placing you gently onto the mattress, and bringing the blanket over your tired form.

Crawling into bed next to you, he pulled you into his chest, spooning you. 

He kissed the back of your head, relishing in your hums of satisfaction. 

A warm silence filled the room, neither of you felt a pressing need to say anything. 

“How is my Princess?” he asked. 

“Tired…,” you mumbled.

Sanji laughed.

“And in love,” you finished. 

Sanji turned to blow out the candles.

Darkness enveloped the room, but Sanji's firm grasp on your body never faltered. 

Closing your eyes, you heard soft snores coming from the man behind you.

Perhaps tomorrow morning you’d have croissants with him.

Tired and in love, you slept.

#sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji vinsmoke #sanji one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #knight!sanji #princess!reader #sanji one piece headcanon #sanji smut #sanji fluff #sanji drabble #sanji headcanon #sanji imagine #zoro x reader #zoro x you #law x reader #law x you

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

♤RAMPAGE♤

Episode 1: ♤AGGRESSIVE♤

{WHERE a young teen screams out her aggression with heavy death metal for a boy she barely knows.}

[Warnings: Yandere Aqua, will add more Warnings later.]

《AGGRESSIVE: Pursuing one's aims and interests forcefully, sometimes unduly so.》

♤

Aquamarine Hoshino was a strange type of person...

He was a liar, a scoundrel at best.

Yet he was a young man. With simple and unhinged desires.

Meeting you didn't change that.

What attracted him to you like a bear to honey? Was it your sweet smile and compliance? Or your features that made him feel like he was gonna melt into a puddle?

"Uh-umm, you okay?" Your voice captures his attention as you gave him an awkward smile.

"Yes." The blonde replied smoothly as he watched you nod unsurely.

"You were talking about how you felt bad for not getting in the assignment for one of your classes, right?"

You look at him blankly... Then, eruptly bang your head against your desk. Comically, whining as your female friend, laughs at you robotically.

"It's not funny!!" You cry fruitlessly.

Aqua studied you like a new breed of animal.

You weren't much of an attention bringer, yet so ordinary to the eye, while also being so secretive and polite.

People wanted to be close to you, good or bad.

He was one of those people.

Aqua believed it was possible that you held that 'star-power' that he, Ruby, and his mother had.

And you did.

But instead of showcasing it to the world with pride. You kept to yourself, going as far as tl screaming your lungs out a simple karaoke room across town.

Aqua.. Wanted to see you shine like Ai. But the selfish part of him relished the simplicity of your relationship with him.

Of course, it was held together by thinly veiled lies. But not so detrimental to his plans.

Deceiving had become easy, was this how Ai felt when she showed her "love"?

Aqua would never know. Yet he yearned to, one day.

"Hey, (Y/N)? Wanna join us for drinks at a new cafe we found?"

Aqua narrows his eyes slightly at your male friend. His blushing and humble appearance ticks the blonde off.

"Maybe it'll help you keep your mind off it?"

You groan miserably at your friend.

Aqua, used to this, expected you to decline. Yet raised your head and sighed.

Don't tell him you were considering-!

"Maybe another time.. You guys should go.. Lunch is almost over.." You mumble distracted and off into your own world.

"See you guys.."

You don't bother to get up as you shove your face back on the desk.

Your male friend eyes you worriedly as he says goodbye while your female friend taps something on her phone. Before glancing at you and Aqua.

"You'll get over it," she said simply, "you always do.." She sighed agitatedly before leaving the classroom too.

"She could of been a little nicer.." You grumble before leaning your back against the chair, a calm sigh leaving your lips as you pull out your school book.

"Hey.."

You look away from your task, giving your sorta, new, school friend, attention.

"Yeah? What's up?"

"If you need help studying, maybe you should-"

"Please don't give me advice," you said sweetly.

Ah.. He could tell your rage was rising.

Good.

"Sorry," he mutters, looking away.

Noticing his aloofness, you quickly scramble up an apology for him.

"Wait! I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean it!"

You try to back-track your words.

"It's just.. I'm suprised, you didn't really give advice.. So.."

"You think I'm not wise?" Aqua acted offended as you squeak and raise your hands, hoping for mercy.

"No-!"

"You know.. You can just ask the teacher for easier work." Aqua said in a monotone voice, hiding his smile as he sees your composure slightly crack.

"HAH... FUNNY JOKE." You grit out, your lips pulled together into a gummy smile.

Alright, Aqua knew when to quit, and he rather be kept in your good graces... For the mean time.

"I wanted to ask you something.." Aqua said seriously, his bright blue eyes giving off a small gleam.

You look at him expectedly and curious, capturing your full attention once more.

"Yeah..?"

-

You huff, exasperated at the end of the day. Your normal shoes padding down the pavement calmly as you stride with a purpose.

Finding yourself in front of a familiar Kareoke Club, the clerk nods to you.

"Party of one?"

...

Typing in the numbers to the kareoke machine, you take a single breath.

"WHAT. THE. HEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLL~!!!!!"

♤

{Hi! So.. This will be a slight mini project for me, and I would love for some feedback and such! Comments and art are always appreciated! Thank you!]

(Ps: The Ai Hoshino series is on my Qoutev.}

#aihoshino #aqua hoshino #ruby hoshino #yandere boy #yandere idol #aqua x reader #aqua hoshino x reader #aqua x you #aqua x y/n #oshi no ko x reader #oshi no ko #oshi no ko aqua #oshi no ko fanfic #oshi no ko fanart #yandere aqua hoshino #aquamarine #aquamarine hoshino #y/n #onk #onk aqua #onk anime #onk manga #oshi no ko manga #oshi no ko anime #onk ai #onk ruby #onk fanart #onk fanfic #aqua hoshino x y/n

[artemis-potnia-theron]

Artemis + her relationships with other Theoi 🌙🏹🦌

One of the amazing things about Lady Artemis is how versatile her domain is. Here are just some of the prominent theoi she is connected to.

Artemis + Ares 💥

- These two were celebrated together during Kharisteria/Charisteria ('thanksgiving'), which took place on the sixth day of Boedromion.

- Goats were sacrificed jointly to Artemis and Ares for their roles in battle and war.

- Even though Artemis is not technically a 'goddess of war', her role as the (sometimes brutal) hunter gave her an association with battle and death. They were also both patron deities of the Amazons.

Diana of Versailles (original attributed to Leochares)

Artemis + Apollon 🎼

- Perhaps her most famous connection is to that of her twin brother. They are opposites but are also, in a certain sense, two sides of the same coin.

- Apollon is the warmth of the sun, Artemis is the light of the moon. (They also shared the epithet 'light-bringer') They compliment each other while contrasting.

- They are day and night, city and country. They complete a cycle, making them almost inextricably interconnected in myth. Yet they also share domain over hunting, healing, death, and even music.

- The muses, who were led by Apollon, were often seen accompanying Artemis and her nymphs as she danced through the forest. Dance and music were also vitally important in her rituals.

Artemis Hymnia=Of the Hymns

Artemis Hegemone=Leader of Dance/Choir

Diana awakening Apollo (Carl Bertling)

Artemis + Dionysus 🐆

- Artemis and Dionysus are both deities of the thin line between us and animals/'beasts.' They symbolize our own wild nature and what it means to succumb to it.

- They historically shared in rituals of 'frenzy', release, and estastic dance. Both are deities of revolutionary liberation and freedom.

Artemis as 'Potnia Theron' on the François Vase

Artemis + Hekate 🔥

- These two goddesses are so heavily connected that many conflate/synchronize them. They are both deities associated with the night, the moon, and for their roles in protecting the young/children.

- The Roman goddess Diana Trivia is sometimes thought to be a syncretism of Luna/Selene, Artemis/Diana, and Hekate/Trivia.

- They were both known to hold torches and snakes, and some say that it was Artemis instead of Hekate who used her light to guide Demeter to Persephone during her search. Although most still contribute this part of the story to Hekate, it shows how conflated the two goddesses are.

- In some versions of their stories, Iphigenia was 'turned into' Hekate by Artemis. In others, Artemis 'became' Hekate as a companion of Persephone after her descent into the Underworld. Variations of Hekate's name were also epithets of Artemis.

Artemis Hekatê/Hekate = Far-Shooting, Shooter from Afar, or Worker from Afar

Artemis Hekatêbolos/Hecatebolus = Far-Shooting, Far-Darting, or Hundred-Shots

Artemis, Hekate, and Leto from the Pergamon Altar

Artemis + Persephone 🥀

- It is said that these two were raised together, perhaps with Athena, prior to her descent into the Underworld. They also share domain over nature and vegetation.

- In the Homeric Hymn II to Demeter, (and many other sources) it is said that Artemis and Persephone were picking flowers (sometimes with Athena) when she was taken.

- When Persephone returns from the Underworld, we can only assume that the two sisters and childhood friends are reunited just as she is reunited with Demeter.

- Hekate is also considered to be Persephone's companion in the Underworld. So if one syncretises the two, Artemis-Hekate would be her companion year round!

Diana's Bath (Louis Devedeux)

Artemis + Demeter 🌾

- As well as being deities of vegetation, Artemis is connected to both Persephone and Demeter in their roles in the Eleusinian Mysteries (Hekate also had a prominent role in this tradition).

- The mysterious goddess Despoine, also central to the Eleusinian Mysteries, is thought to be Persephone, Hekate, Artemis, or some syncretism of them.

- The sanctuary of Despoine, which was vital to the tradition of the Eleusinian Mysteries, was in Arcadia. At this sanctuary, Pausanias stated that multiple representations of Artemis could be found; including a 'six foot tall bronze statue' which stood guardian in front of the entrance to the mystery cult.

- A theory states that Demeter is actually the mother of Artemis, while Leto is her 'sister' or 'nurse.' Pausanias claims that "Artemis was the daughter, not of Leto but of Demeter, which is the Egyptian account."

Artemis with a Dog (Munich)

Artemis + Selene 🌕

- It is traditionly stated that Selene is the personification of the moon itself while Artemis is a goddess of the moon.

- At some point, the two were congealed/synchronized as Artemis became more and more heavily associated with the moon. The Roman goddess Diana almost certainly involved syncretism between the two.

Diana and Endymion (Jérôme-Martin Langlois)

Artemis + Pan 🌿

- Artemis and Pan are both deities of the wild, pastures, woodland, animals, and the country. Rural deities with connections to dance and music, these two have a similar untamed persona.

- Pan gave Artemis a pack of seven hunting dogs as a gift, showing their companionship. Pan also famously had a love affair with Selene, so syncretism between Artemis and Selene also connects her to Pan.

Diana the Huntress (Gaston Casimir Saint-Pierre)

Artemis + Zeus ⛈️

- Artemis has always been a favored daughter of her father. Perhaps their most famous interaction occurs from Callimachus when Artemis, still a child, presents Zeus with a list of requests - including her 'eternal virginity'.

- Zeus is happy to oblige and gives her all that she desired and more. This unconditional love and acceptance illustrates Zeus' affection for his feral daugher of the forest.

Diana the Huntress by Guilluame Seignac

Artemis + Athena 🦉

- Artemis and Athena share many similar qualities, including their 'chasity' and their choice to remain 'virgins' (in the historical sense of the word).

- As mentioned above, Persephone, Athena, and Artemis are said to have grown up together and were seen picking flowers together.

- As with Artemis' connection to Ares, Athena's domain of war, battle, and death are also connected to Artemis. Their sterness, intensity, and ability to commit violence when deemed necessary connect the two deities.

Diana as Huntress by Bernardino Cametti

Artemis + Hera 👑

- While these two were often in conflict with each other in myth, they still share connections. In historical celebration and ritual, women/girls progressing to adulthood and/or entering into marriage were ceremoniously passed from Artemis' protection to Hera's. They shared space in the context of transitions.

- In addition, Artemis has been heavily conflated with Eileithyia, a goddess of childbirth and daugher of Hera. 'Eileithyia' has even served as an epithet of Artemis.

(From The Theoi Project - theoi.com)

(From She Who Hunts: Artemis: The Goddess Who Changed the World by Carla Ionescu)

#artemis #diana #goddess artemis #artemis goddess #artemis deity #artemis devotion #artemis devotee #hecate #hekate #apollo #apollon #hera #zeus #athena #pan #pan deity #selene #selene deity #demeter #persephone #ares #hellenic pantheon #hellenic polytheism #hellenic gods #hellenic community #hellenic pagan #hellenic paganism #hellenic polytheist #hellenic worship #diana deity

[ashthemadwriter-archived]

Chuuya Appreciation Club!

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairings: Chuuya X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: Dom!Chuuya, Sub!reader, Some suggestive/NSFW shit under the cut, cussing done by me

Word Count: 1.6K

A/n: Head empty thinking about Nakahara fucking Chuuya

↳SFW

§ Ok I think we all believe that this guy is the best partner ever. I literally can never- NEVER see him as a yandere character and I always find yandere shit written for him ooc.

§ Chuuya can never be considered as a red flag. He is hella understanding, respects your boundaries af, will does his best to cheer you up if he catches the slightest sign of discomfort coming from you and last but definitely not least, his loyalty has no ends.

§ This guy has suffered a lot. You only need to read the novel "Storm Bringer" to get me. Like you have no idea what amount of patience he actually has. Sure, everyone considers him as short tempered and they aren't wrong, but the case is not the same all the time.

§ TBH this dude is a literal angel (of death). Have you guys watched the CD dramas? How he cares about Akutagawa and talks to him about Dazai, telling him to take care of his health properly so that he'll be able to work on gaining his tutor's acknowledgment. Or how he asked Kenji about Kyouka about whether she was alright in the agency. Chuuya hates betrayal, but still, that didn't stop him from caring about his underling, even though she was mafia's enemy now.

§ Have you... Have you seen that fucking body of his? 🚶🏻‍♀️IDK what to tell ya all this dude is flawless. His waist, those fucking abs of his, his hand, HIS COLARBONES HELP-

§ Caring and understanding af. Yeah he might not be like Dazai, reading people's mind in a glance, but he's no dumb either. At least he gives a fuck about how other people feel =| (Yeah fuck you Dazai lmao)

§ (I'm still a Dazai simp don't get me wrong but I'm just stating some real ass facts)

§ He's no yandere or sadist. He will cherish his S/o af, and I mean this. He will shower them in compliments, gifts, affection, anything he's able to do for you.

§ MATURE AF. He will never be in a relationship unless he knows he can make time for his S/o. If he's too caught up in mafia shit then he will try to ignore his feelings and might try to keep his distance from you, regardless of how painful it might be.

§ Reference to the wan ep where he was crying over a dog movie. He loves them so much but because he's always away from home he doesn't plan on getting one.

§ The most husband/boyfriend material of all the bsd boys. Like, you don't have to worry about him manipulating you, using you to get his way, or leaving you after he got tired. He's there for you all the time, unless you don't want him to be.

§ Have you seen the amount of responsibility this guy has? Just give him one task, and he will do his best to make everything perfect. Even when the task is cooking. He will do his best or might make his underlings to be in charge of the food but still-

§ Will never harm you. In anyway. He might snap out sometimes and say some mean stuff, but he'll be feeling like shit afterwards so prepare for a hell of an apology with whatever it takes for you to forgive him. I'm not saying it's a good thing, but at least he's actually sorry =|

§ Tbh I can't see him having a breeding kink cuz as I said, he doesn't see himself in place to be ready to get a pet, let alone become a father. But if that happened? He'll be there for you and the baby.

§ BEST DAD IN THE WORLD. Thought you gotta look out for the baby cuz they might be spoiled a bit too much.

§ Loves you with his life. All he thinks about throughout the day is when he'll get home and make himself comfortable in your arms. Likes to be in charge, but there are some times when he's softer than usual and if you bring it up, he won't deny you. After the first time, he will be the little spoon half of the time, cuz he needs it and you both gotta receive love equally, right?

§ CUDDLES. CUDDLES. CUDDLES.

§ Cuddles with this man is life. I mean please he smells so good T^T if I ever get my hands on him Imma stick to him like his personal Koala bear for the rest of my fucking life.

§ His hair omg his hair omg please😭😭😭 Caress it. Brush it. Inhale its scent. Wash it when you're in the bathtub with him. Tbh he will be jealous of how you're obsessed with his hair lmao, but who's he to complain? As long as he's receiving attention and care from you :>

NSFW Content under the cut fuck off minors. (I don't give a shit if you read it I was no better myself when I was younger just don't interact lmao)

↳NSFW

§ Where do you think this man's height went, huh? That's right! His penis! 🚶🏻‍♀️

§ MF is so big lmao. Your reaction when you see it for the first time is soooo satisfying to him. He'll smirk at how you're looking at it being shocked, scared and excited.

§ "What is it doll? Like what you see huh?" "Can I suck you off Chu?"

§ SUCK HIM OFF

§ PRETTIEST MANLIEST GROANS EVER.

§ The only thing slipping out of his mouth is low pitched moans and endless praises. I mean how can he not praise you? You look so pretty down there, bobbing your head up and down on his length while staring at him with your pretty eyes.

§ "Look at you doll- Fuck, How could I ever be this lucky to have a filthy angel like you by my side? S-shit! Calm down a bit princess! We have all night and I'm not going anywhere"

§ He loves brat taming. Having control over you while you're shivering from his slightest touch? He's in for it.

§ Likes degrading, but will never cross your boundaries. As I said, you're his princess and you gotta be treated like one, hm? It's not your fault that you're head over heels for his fat ass cock, we all are and nobody can blame you 🚶🏻‍♀️🚶🏻‍♀️🚶🏻‍♀️

§ Can we talk about his stamina please? ENDLESS. ENDLESS.

§ MF is strong af. Won't give up unless you reach at least three orgasms. Whether you want more after that or not, it's all up to you; but those three first orgasms are a must for this man.

§ King of aftercare. literally. Will do whatever, WHATEVER you ask him to. You're in the mood for food? will go out and buy you some. Care for a shower? You're in for it babe. Wanna chill in the bathtub with him? Oof! You might even have another round there. You just wanna get some sleep afterward? Help yourself! Rest your head on his arm and leans against his chest to hear his heartbeat getting faster and faster.

§ I think he would be into bondage. Your moans are the prettiest melody he's ever heard of, why not hear them a bit longer while enjoying the sight of you squirming under him?

§ But you're not gonna get yourself off completely tho. The only one who can make you come is him and only him. No man or toy has the right to do that except him.

§ IDT he would be into Heavy BDSM. Light spanking, blindfolding and tying you up is satisfying, but the rest is a no no. Doesn't like to see you in pain. If you're a masochist he might give you what you want, but the idea of hitting you isn't really arousing to him.

§ He will not get his way unless he hears you screaming his name. You have to moan ok? If you don't he's gonna feel like you're not enjoying this. He needs to hear you whimpering over how his cock is hitting your G-spot, how his fingers are running a marathon in your pussy or how his tongue is made for your swollen clit. If he catches you holding back your moans? Well, challenge accepted man. Will arouse you and arouse you until you're a crying mess. Crying of pleasure btw.

§ Speaking of his tongue on your clit...

§ FACE SITTING.

§ You have to come on his tongue at least once. I mean you look so pretty with your face all flushed up, desperately moving yourself on his tongue to get yourself off like a fucking whore, and your taste is more addicting than any kind of alcohol he's ever drank; you gotta give him at least one orgasm like this, right?

§ Say his name when reaching your orgasm and he will go feral.

§ His grp on your waist gets tighter and his pace faster than before, earning loud screams from you when thrusting into you through your orgasm. Likes to shut you up by kissing you, cuz your moans sound even hotter like that, silenced by his hungry lips.

§ Kissing is a must during the act. You're lips are never leaving each other unless you're in a position where your mouths are unable to make contact.

§ The man appreciates every inch of you, regardless of how your body shape is. Doesn't give a shit about looks tbh, as long as he loves you and you love him back, he's in for it :)

So yeah, let's worship the fuck outta this man together🚶🏻‍♀️

#chuuya x reader #Chuuya smut #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd imagines #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs headcanons #bsd headcanons #bsd hcs #nakahara chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya x y/n #chuuya imagines #chuuya scenarios #chuuya headcanons #chuuya hcs #bsd smut #bsd fluff #bsd scenarios #AshTheMadWriter #chuuya fluff

[museqmeg]

Reporter’s Notes - Epilogue

A vashmeryl fic

————————————————————————————————————

Meryl stared down at the newly printed Bernardelli issue. The heat from the press still warming her hands, seeping into her skin, and stoking the fire within her. That boiling-hot anger at what she read made her face flush. Her eyes scanned the words, not her own, but her’s and Roberto’s information wholly taken out of context…

“HUMANOID TYPHOON TURNED ANGEL OF DEATH DESTROYS JULAI

A team of investigative journalists from Bernardelli witnessed the destruction and death of JuLai firsthand. They traveled with the Humanoid Typhoon for two months, starting with the disaster at Jeneora Rock until the devastating loss of JuLai. Unfortunately, one of our long-time senior reporters, Roberto de Niro, was caught in the Typhoon and lost to us. (His career highlights and obituary can be found on page 4.)

How could someone kill one of his traveling companions? He is clearly a devil, a bringer of death, with no value for human life. Officials and rescue parties at the site of what is left of JuLai have found few survivors and no trace of the monster known as Vash the Stampede.”

Meryl couldn’t continue reading the article. Her rage at the damning words they used to describe Vash and the untruth written before her made it difficult for her eyes to focus. They had it all wrong. It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t Vash at all…

She looked at the photo they used for him. One of the only things they took from her to include in the story. It was also completely out of context. She remembered that day, they had stopped to camp for the evening and Vash expressed the need to exert himself and stretch after being in the truck for hours. He had taken off his coat and glasses, stretching his body and warming it up before snapping into a flow of combat movements, his gun out and part of his body…

—------------------------------------

Meryl walked over to Vash’s practice area, finding a rock to perch on and watch. She always considered him graceful in his movements, if not a little silly sometimes. It was probably his tall frame and long limbs. Whenever she saw him in combat or practice, she felt like she was peeking into something she shouldn’t be looking at. She couldn’t look away, the lines he created with himself were mesmerizing. It was rare when she caught him without his coat and in combat mode. While she knew his true nature, she couldn’t help but think how intimidating and dangerous he looked. His tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular body was on full display. His movements with his gun always perplexed her. He wasn’t using it as a gun. He swung it around, spinning it in his hand. Most times, it was in a strange position flush against his forearm as he wielded it. She couldn’t understand his use of the weapon and her voice spoke out before she could think.

“Hey, Vash?”

He stopped mid-lunge, turning to face her as he lightly panted and his face glistened with sweat. “Yeah, Meryl?” He locked eyes with her, his gaze was intense from the mental state he must have been in as he worked himself through his motions.

Meryl gulped. He looked so intimidating and the teal cerulean of his eyes were piercing her without his glasses. She realized that the round lenses really softened his face. “Why do you use your gun like that?” She pointed to it as it hung loose at his side, still angled up his forearm.

He looked down at it before looking back to her and softening his gaze. “Because it’s better than me shooting someone.” A little half-smile came across his face as he angled his head.

Meryl nodded, that made sense with his character, “Yes, but why do you use it like that? The way you handle it is strange…”

His eyes brightened as he realized the true meaning of her question, “Oh! I use it as a tonfa.”

“A what?” She tilted her head, confused.

“A tonfa… it’s a type of weapon used in martial arts. Like a baton.” He gave her an encouraging smile.

“Oh, okay… Where did you learn that?” Her voice was curious.

He shrugged, “Years ago… I wanted the option to disarm someone that didn’t require me to really hurt them if I could prevent it.”

Meryl nodded but then stopped, realization dawning on her… He was always actively holding back. She looked at him, thinking about how he presented himself and treated others. He knew he was dangerous and had to actively keep it quelled. He repressed that part of himself unless he was forced to use it. These little exertions were a way he kept himself in check and precise. While the thought made her a little uneasy, she smiled back at him, nodding that she was done asking him questions and he could continue.

He smiled at her before spinning on a heel, lowering himself as he went back into a lunge. She continued watching him flow through his movements when an idea struck her. Her hands went to her camera resting on her hip, the strap over her left shoulder. She checked the lens and adjusted the settings to a faster shutter speed to capture his movements.

With her eyes in the lens and zoomed in, she was too focused on keeping him in frame until she heard the crunch of his boots in the rocks and sand directly in front of her. He must have heard the clicks of her shutter. She lifted her head from the camera and found his face in front of her, teal gaze intense, his body still in combat form but directed at her. She gulped, accidentally snapping that photo of him, unable to move or look away as he slowly brought his fisted prosthetic forward, lightly bumping her stomach.

His face split into a wide grin as he said, “Gotcha!” Throwing himself into a fit of giggles at his prank.

Meryl spluttered, air whooshing from her lungs now that she could release the tension he had caused. “Vash! That wasn’t funny!” She glowered at him.

He continued laughing as he tucked his gun in its holster before plopping himself next to her on the rock. He wrapped his prosthetic around her waist, squeezing her against his body. His other hand grabbed the camera from her as he brought his face down to her level, pressing her cheek against his sweaty one, and turned the lens to face them. He grinned wide as he snapped a photo, Meryl’s face surprised and eyes wide.

He was still chuckling when he handed the camera back to her and stood up. “Make sure to give me a copy of that one when you develop the film!”

She watched as he walked away, her face beet red and still in shock at his antics. He collected his red coat and amber glasses from where he left them. She could still see his shoulders shaking from his laughter as he walked over to Roberto and Wolfwood sitting at the campfire.

—------------------------------------

She felt like a failure. She had promised that she would clear his name. She looked down at the photo Bernardelli printed with the article. It was the one before he had accosted her camera and snapped a photo of them both. The Vash in that photo was the real Vash, not the deadly intense one looking at her now. At least not the version of himself he liked to present. She should have never taken any of those pictures of him in combat, practice or not. She felt guilt and shame for doing it. Especially when that innocent moment was being used to drag his reputation and memory through the mud.

When she returned to December and the Bernardelli headquarters months after losing Vash and Roberto, she was determined to write Vash’s story and share his sunshine with the world. Angry tears welled up at the memory of her boss telling her that story wouldn’t sell papers and that they had the December government breathing down their neck. With JuLai gone, December was now the largest of the six cities. December’s government quickly made an address to blame Vash and upped his bounty to sixty billion double dollars, dead or alive. Had Meryl not seen him plummet and hit JuLai herself, the pain and fear at his new wanted poster even asking for him “dead,” still made her chest seize with pain. In a small way, it was a mercy that he had died at JuLai. Meryl couldn’t bear the thought of how much more difficult his on-the-run life would have been when the humans he loved so much now hated him enough to want him dead. Life had been unspeakably cruel to Vash. He didn’t deserve any of it. A voice tore Meryl out of her thoughts. It was her boss.

“Meryl, would you come to my office please?”

She wiped her eyes before turning to face him, “Sure.” She followed, ignoring the looks from her coworkers. They had all read her draft of the Vash the Stampede story, of what really happened in JuLai, yet they quickly believed the story they concocted together off her words. She crinkled and fisted the article in her hand. Lies…

They entered his office and she sat in the seat in front of his desk, looking down at the floor.

He sat down in his chair before speaking to her, “Meryl… I know you’re angry about the Humanoid Typhoon story, but we needed to partner with December’s government. They have just been hit with the burden of what the JuLai government shouldered… This was the best way to give the people who lost so much from the incident a chance at peace.”

Meryl’s head shot up, “Peace? Adding kindling to their flames of contempt and revenge is peace?”

Her boss grimaced back, trying to be gentle with her, “Meryl, he’s dead. He’s not around to feel the contempt and hate. December needs someone to blame and… Vash the Stampede was already a familiar face. No one knows this “Millions Knives” you wrote about. Not to mention, your story around him was too humanizing.

December needs a villain. Humanity needs a villain. The loss of JuLai wasn’t just about the people that died there… Humanity lost thousands of plants. Our survival is now more precarious than ever.”

Meryl clenched her fists resting on her thighs, knowing in some way, Vash would accept this blame put on him. Even welcome it. He was so self-sacrificing and he loved humans that much. It broke her heart… How Vash always sought to see the best in others. Even though she didn’t truly know Knives and he had tried to kill her, Vash still tried to save him. Vash had still loved his brother. She had believed and trusted in Vash. As hard as it was, she believed in both of them, for Vash’s sake. Even if Knives was so wrong in how he went about his convictions. It was the right way to honor him.

She looked up, “So what now? What will you have me do?”

He gave her a small smile, “We’d like to make it up to you… for twisting your story. When you joined us, you mentioned wanting to be at the news desk. We’d be happy to offer that to you.”

She shook her head, “No… I want to continue to be an investigative journalist. I want to continue Roberto’s legacy. I also want the truck and trailer that was assigned to us.”

He nodded, understanding, “Consider it done. Meryl, please know that I’m deeply sorry for how all of this played out.”

“I am too.” She stood, leaving his office and ending the conversation.

—————————————

Vash walked.

The desert sand under his boots gave way to his weight and unsteady gait. His only hand clutched his broken ribs as each step sent pain coursing through him.

He remembered how angry he was that his body awoke and healed parts of itself. He really had hoped that the darkness that consumed him would finally be eternal, complete oblivion. The pain of living on after what had happened was more than he could bear.

He had made himself get up. Not wanting someone to find him, take pity on him, and help him. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t want it. It was moments like this that made him hate what he was as a plant. His powers not allowing the human parts of his body to simply die. It was miserable, being this. A long life and a healing body were not the dream humans talked about when they referred to the “fountain of youth.” It was a curse. It was pain. It was suffering.

Now his only hope was that he stayed conscious long enough to walk the energy and life out of his body. It was taking everything he had to hold the plant abilities at bay. He pushed it down, cursing it to stop healing him.

He reached up to his face, ripping off his cracked glasses and throwing them in the sand. It wasn’t like he could use them anymore. Peace Bringer was gone, absorbed into that demonic arm of his with the cube and the violet hue was all wrong for shooting. Not like he would raise a gun again. He had taken too many lives, caused too much pain.

Vash also took off his earring, it reminded him of her. Thinking of her hurt too much. He was going to throw it, but it felt like a betrayal. He would never throw her away. Instead he clumsily opened his inner breast pocket with one hand, tucking it into his pocket holding her reporter’s notes and violet geranium. He continued walking as he slowly felt his body start to break down. Could this finally be it? Could the pain finally go away? He took another step as his legs crumbled beneath him. He landed face first in the sand, unable to get up as a heavy darkness blanketed him.

——————————————

Eriks walked behind Lina, watching the young girl bounce and bob as she animatedly chattered about the meals they were going to make with the food they both carried. They were on their way home to her grandmother’s from their little errand in town. He was half listening when his teal eyes stopped at a news stand, a familiar name calling out to him. He froze, unbelieving, as his breathing stopped. He took a cautious step closer, not daring to allow the hope to rise in his chest.

Lina turned when she didn’t hear his footsteps behind her. “Eriks?” Her eyes found him at the news stand, staring. She approached him, “Did you want to read that?”

He nodded without thinking. He never asked them for anything… but that was the problem when it came to her. He was incredibly selfish.

Lina brightened, excited that he wanted something for himself. It had been a year since they found him in the sand and he had never been assuming or wanting of anything. She was only twelve, but she could see that he went out of his way to not bother anyone and always did what was asked around the house, never complaining. Honestly, it annoyed her sometimes and made her feel guilty when she rebelled against her grandmother. He was too much a goody-two-shoes. She loved him dearly though. He was so kind to her and her grandmother. His thoughtful words to her filled a hole in her heart. She had always wanted siblings, but since her parents died and her grandmother took care of her, that would never be. That is, until she found him.

Her grandmother was frustrated and worried when she and a group of men hauled Eriks into their home. She had brought home sick puppies and kittens before that her grandmother wouldn’t let her keep. Lina was so happy when her grandmother took one look at him and rushed to help. They nursed him back to health and learned that he had no memory of what happened to him. Over time, they both saw how caring and compassionate he was, even if was sullen and sad. They settled into a routine together and became a family. Lina was overjoyed to keep him finally have a big brother. He was so much better than a lost puppy.

Her heart filled with warmth at that memory as she said, “I’ll buy that for you if you want. It’s only two double dollars.”

He nodded again and she excitedly got into her coin purse, so happy to finally get the opportunity to gift him something.

Eriks spoke softly, “Do you think we can get a subscription to this publication?” He was pointing at the paper with the name, “Bernardelli” at the top.

Lina’s eyes brightened at his request. Even though it was such a small ask for a yearly newspaper subscription, it was most he ever requested from them. She felt like he was finally opening himself up a little.

She eagerly reached for the bills in her purse, walking up to the stand to purchase the paper and register their household to its subscription. She turned to Eriks when she was done, plucking the paper from the and handing it to him. “For you!” She smiled brightly at him, her grin so wide it made her eyes squint and close. Lina felt his only arm wrap around her, hugging her to him and the low rumble of his tenor against her as he softly said, “Thank you.”

She hugged his tall frame around his waist, burning her face into his front as she nodded. It made her so happy to give him something he wanted.

——————————-

Ericks was back in his room at Lina’s and her grandmother’s home, clutching the newspaper to his chest. He had excused himself from dinner and shut his door behind him. He held it out in front of him and let his eyes fall onto her name… Meryl Strife. His eyes scanned down to her photo above the article she had written. She had his earrings on. Their silver bars and hoops glinting from the camera flash. His breath caught and his legs gave out. She was alive… he didn’t kill her. He hugged the paper to him as if he was clutching her, little choked sobs coming out of him. He kneeled and cried softly like that for a long time, relief and joy consuming his body for the first time since he saw Wolfwood rescue her from her fall in JuLai. Wolfwood had gotten them both out. They both were alive…. Did Roberto get out too? He held the paper out in front of himself, looking at her again. She was still so beautiful, the kindness still in her eyes.

He read her article, a little story about a small town struggling with their plant and having to resort to wind power to lighten the load on his sister. It was a success and their plant was able to recover. He chuckled, smiling through the tears. Meryl had stayed in that town until the issue was resolved. A little happy sob came out of him, knowing she probably helped too. She was still an investigative reporter and using her little bit of influence to help others. He was so full of love and pride at seeing her and reading her story.

He stood up and walked to his dresser, pulling out a pair of scissors to carefully cut out her article with his one hand. He kneeled down to his bed, crouching to reach the box he had stored underneath. His hair was shaggier now, his undercut scruffy like his teenage years and his lighter, blonde waves falling in front of his eyes as he pulled out the box.

He opened it after a year of tucking the box away. Inside was his Project SEEDS coat, still black and violet from JuLai, but he kept it to hold his precious memories of her. He pulled the box to himself, bowing his head down to the left breast pocket where her notes and geranium lay. Another happy sob escaped him. This coat was no longer a grave for her. He sat up, pulling the coat to himself and hugging it closely. She was alive. He sniffled, setting the coat back down to open the pocket and place her article inside with his other treasures of her. His right hand palmed over the pocket, bracing his body with his arm as he curled over it, crying with relief.

He was still guilty for what happened in JuLai, for killing everyone else and his brother. But he was selfish, he allowed himself to be happy that her life was spared. He would never be able to thank Wolfwood enough. Not that he’d ever allow himself to see either of them again. He didn’t deserve to after what he had done. He still felt terrible about lying to Lina, her grandmother, and this town about who he was and what he didn’t remember. He was just a coward. He remembered. He chose to lie about his past and who he was.

Now, he was just trying to atone by doing whatever he could for this small family. They had saved him and loved him, he owed them anything they needed from him.

He loved them too. That was also the reason he lied. It was always his selfish need for love, but he was the most selfish when it came to Meryl. He longed for her touch, her comfort, but knew he didn’t deserve it. He would only allow himself his memories of her with him, what lay in his coat, and the articles that would be coming each week with Lina’s gift.

He hugged the coat to himself again, silent tears falling as he thought of Meryl living and breathing, her heart still beating like his was now.

—————————————

Meryl drove, leaving her memorial of Vash and Roberto behind in JuLai. While she was excited to get her own “newbie,” being back there had dampened her mood. Yes, two years had passed since losing them both, but it still hurt. She still grieved. She sighed, feeling some tears well up and slowed the truck down to a stop. She rested her forehead on the steering wheel, her hands gripping it above her head, letting the silent tears fall.

Zazie’s words didn’t help matters, reminding her of the villain humanity painted onto Vash. It’s what her main focus was as an investigative journalist, her promise to clear Vash’s name. She followed leads and claims of sightings of “Vash the Stampede,” driving out to each location. Most of the time it was outlaws using his name to their benefit. Whether it was to steal or kill, the mention of the Humanoid Typhoon had a powerful effect, especially after JuLai. She had to work so hard to debunk those claims and unveil the truth… but slowly, with each town and person she met, she was able to share the real Vash with the humans he had loved. That’s how she honored his memory… by following through on her promise. She always took it step further and did her best to convince people to believe in him as she had, turning the unrequited love he had for them into reciprocation. It was very few who bought into her story, but with each person that openly listened to her, she felt like she was doing her best to carry out his hopes and dreams. The ones he had shouldered from his mother, Rem. She would do that for him until she no longer lived.

She sat up from the steering wheel, reaching over into the seat next to her to grab a thick envelope. She always kept it close, especially for moments like these. Her tears were done and she breathed, opening it to pull the memories of those impactful two months. Meryl smiled down at them, cherishing each moment in those snapshots…

—————————————————————————————————————

Thank you all so much for reading my little vashmeryl fic! Donuts to all of you who made it to the end!

It would mean a lot to me, now that it is finished, to hear your favorite moments from Reporter’s Notes and Sheets. ❤️

I have some special news to share….

I am writing a filler fic to this filler fic, that will be titled, “Snapshots” - see what I did there? (Check out the last word of the fic.) I still have some fluffy vashmeryl moments I have tucked away in my pocket that can be inserted into Tristamp, but they’ll be quite light and won’t have as much weight as the chapters I wrote in Reporter’s Notes.

Also! I am currently illustrating ALL of the chapters in Reporter’s Notes and Sheets. I will post on my Twitter and Tumblr accounts when those chapters are updated with art. You can follow me on either @museqmeg to get the updates.

Once Snapshots and all the illustrations are done, I will be releasing Reporter’s Notes as a comprehensive fic via eBook to download for FREE.

Again, thank you all! This was the first fanfic I ever published and your support was so heartwarming!

#vashmeryl #vashmeryl fic #vash x meryl #vash the stampede #meryl strife #trigun stampede #trigun

[ragesin]

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

[priestessofcreation]

Persephone & Athena

The Moonology Oracle - Yasmin Boland

Did a reading recently to find out that I have both Athena and Persephone with me. I have always wanted to work with Persephone, but I have always hesitated with Athena. Only because she is a highly logical individual and if I am going to work with any goddess, it would have to be someone who understands my heart. I have been cast aside by "logic" for most of my life and I don't have patience for it.

But every time I get close to Persephone, Athena shows up. She did in 2017 and she is now. It was quite visceral really, but not necessarily invasive.

I was told that they are working together with me. The card above is what showed up when I got that message.

I just want to write what that is like:

When Persephone and Athena work together, it is admittedly rare. They are just so different from each other. Persephone has a deep darkness inside of her that reaches down into the depths of the earth and yet somehow she can bounce back to the flower maiden bringing life and joy back to the world. Athena, on the other hand, is a child of the Heavens and she doesn't tend to waver in that perspective. She is sharp, strategic, direct, and very often correct. She has a weight of power upon her that she carries like a queen.

But that's the word, isn't it?

Queen.

Persephone's story of gaining that title is not pleasant among the Greeks and has been a matter of debate for every generation leading back to when the myth first entered the world. The interesting thing is that Persephone never wavered from that role. Over the millennia, she had plenty of chances to walk away and become something completely different.

Yet, to this day, she is Queen of the Underworld.

Almost as if she likes it.

And Athena has been the valued daughter of Olympus from the beginning. The highest of them all and no one supports heroes more than she does. She raises her sword up high and it glows in every direction for everyone to see. Bright-eyed. Master of War. Strategy. Goddess of Wisdom. Master Guide.

Sometimes she glows brighter than Zeus.

Athena is of the stars. Her sister, Persephone, is of the land and the depths down below. One can see the immortal world for all it is, so high up on her peak. The other is below on her throne, watching soul after soul pass through her halls. One is privy to all of creation and the other is privy to every soul that has ever existed. A bird's eye view and a very personal view.

In one way or another, they are both privy to divinity.

And they come together as one, here. As queens, they understand the sacredness that comes with those who work with them, especially considering that there aren't many people who do that anymore.

Braiding together into a force to help an individual in particular for the simple fact that she likes them both.

And once again: Queen - the bridge that forms between them.

No, Athena is not Queen of Olympus. Instead, she is what I call the Queen of Peace. She fights wars to reach peacetime. She stands for wisdom to protect life. She created economy and crafting and government to built meaning outside of war - that there is value in peace. Goddess of Wisdom and War, for she doesn't like senseless violence.

Persephone, on the other hand, is Queen of the Underworld. Her kingdom down below that she can rule just as well as her husband, but she stands as a bridge to remind everyone that life exists as well as death. As she rises and falls, the life cycle turns with her. Without her, there is no spring. Without her, there is no hope. She is so full of life that she brings it down with her to her kingdom. She is the queen, because she reminds everyone that life and death are one.

Persephone is the Bringer of Life & Death and Athena is the Goddess of Wisdom & War. And just as Athena stands for Protection of Life, Persephone reminds that Rebirth will Always Come.

~FIN

#spirituality #magic #deity work #mythopoetics #greek mythology #mythology #athena #persephone #beauty in her duality

[annonmaly]

Let's talk about these creepy masked dudes, or as their official name, The parade of Charlatan. In my mind, I never considered these guys as an imagination or a nightmare. Sometimes, I think that they are lost souls of dead vampires. Other times I think they are the victims of the catastrophe that resulted from the babel experiment. However, the thought that's winning in my mind now is that these creepy masked dudes are the "stolen true names" If you're bored and have lots of to spare for my 3 am rambling, you may continue reading. If not, scroll ahead.

If we think about it, Naenia's goal is to steal true names of the vampire, not to kill them. According to the dictionary stealing is to take (another person's property) without permission or legal right and without intending to return it. Therefore, these names must be in her possession, and maybe it's in plain sight, like maybe, they become part of the Parade. This idea is heavily inspired by FMA (I'm rereading the series, but part of my mind is still thinking about VnC, well, alchemy is also incorporated in vnc so this is inevitable)

This is the scene where Ed realized that there's hope after all, there's still a chance to achieve their goal of bring back their original body. (If your not familiar with FMA, google it) Now, to sum up Ed's very long explanation.

The soul inside Armor Al is a real soul since he has past memories before becoming a walking empty armor

Al is creating new memories even though he's just a soul inside an armor, he has no physical brain where memories is stored.

Conclusion: Al's physical body is still existing out there.

Also note that Ed mentioned that the mind is the one connecting the body and soul.

Ed mentioned that in alchemy there are three things in humans, the soul, body and mind. This is actually a real principle in alchemy called "Tria Prima". The Tria Prima, also known as the "Three Primes" or "Three Principles," is a concept rooted in alchemical philosophy. It represents the fundamental elements of all matter and is attributed to the Swiss physician and alchemist Paracelsus (Now you know why I'm inspired). It suggests that everything in the world is made up of three fundamental elements: Salt, which is the solid part like the body; Mercury (Memory), which is the fluid and changing part like the life force; and Sulfur, which is the fiery and active part like the emotions and soul. Balancing these elements is believed to lead to transformation and harmony in both substances and ourselves. Just like in alchemy, where the balance and harmonization of the Tria Prima lead to transformation and enlightenment, achieving a balanced state of these three principles within the human body is considered vital for overall well-being and personal growth. In holistic approaches to health, understanding and addressing the physical, energetic, and emotional aspects of individuals are often seen as crucial for promoting optimal health and vitality.

Going back to the parade of Charlatan, we know that the memories, body, and soul (true names) is important. And I think that the true names (soul) can't be stolen by just rewriting one's formula. So, I think the their modus is:

Naenia will curse the vampire by tampering the formula within them

The cursed vampires would be beheaded, separating the brain where the memories is stored (Remember Ed said that the mind is the one connecting the body and soul.) We know that Ruthven is part of the group and he has a high ranking position in the vampire world so he has the power. Therefore, they may created the rule that the cursed vampire could only be beheaded to help their scheme of stealing names.

Without memories, the true names (soul) of the vampire will be part of the parade (Yeah, I'm pushing the Louis is still out there agenda)

Back in Gavaudan, when Chloe tried to give Naenia a physical body, Vani specifically warned her that they shouldn't make the former who she is, because as revealed later, the death bringer is Faustina. Additionally, as shown by Amelia and Thomas, they can't remember anything when their malnomen is acting up. This is just a proof that someone that's part of the parade or on the process of being one, has their memories cut off to disconnect the body from a soul. This may also be one of the reason why Naenia can't easily take Noe's name since the latter has a problem with his memories.

Now, why does the charlatan collect true names (souls)? The answer that I could think of is that Ruthven and co. need to use them as an ingredient for their goal. They may want to rewrite the humans formula and transform them to be a vampire or vice versa, revive someone, commit genocide, or etc. However it is clear that there are preparation needed to do what they want, like the crazy doctor's experiment, the thing they stole in Gevaudan, and maybe the true names they stole are included.

#vnc #vanitas no carte #vnc thoughts

[literatureismyentirepersonality]

Plastic Theatre In Prose: Aşk-ı Memnu

For a while I’ve really enjoyed reading what I can only describe as ‘Plastic Theatre’, not simply in plays, but in prose.

Plastic Theatre is known as a technique used by 20th century dramatist Tennessee Williams, known for A Streetcar Named Desire, The Glass Menagerie and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof among other plays (these three that I have read/seen are excellent). It involves a symbolism that borders on the surreal and a heavy awareness of the spaces that characters operate in as representative of their inner states or relationships. If the curtains are blue, there’s a very good reason.

I haven’t, however, been able to find any criticism that makes the jump from Williams’ on-stage Plastic Theatre to its mirrors in prose. (If anyone knows of any, please direct me to it)

Margaret Atwood is the author who I saw it in first. She is an incredibly deliberate author, playing with language constantly, and so, of course, when she describes a space, she does not do so without good reason. The constant and intoxicating symbolism of The Handmaid’s Tale may be forgotten sometimes in favour of its high-concept, but one must note that the actual plot of the novel is very limited (just as our narrator is very limited). It is the prose, the linguistic entanglements and the imagery of flowers, of eggs, of corpses, that sustains engagement and creates such a powerful and meaningful story.

Angela Carter’s The Bloody Chamber (which I have some issues with, plot-wise) is linguistically and symbolically incredibly rich. Where I was tired by the constant returns to that (I don’t want to talk about it; if you know, you know) as apparently the only means of darkening a fairy tale, my interest was maintained by the cleverness of the prose and the richness of the text. As with Atwood, every detail has a secondary meaning or a hundred secondary meanings.

Halit Ziya Uşaklıgil’s Aşk-ı Memnu seems also to have an element of plastic theatre in its construction, gesturing not only to symbols of space, dress and action but also to genre. Plastic theatre in Aşk-ı Memnu is not so sustained as in the works of modern writers, but equally it is more sustained and intrusive onto naturalism than its contemporaries.

Firstly, Halit Ziya is luxuriously heavy-handed in the names he gives his characters; even in the text, he cannot help but inform us that ‘through a strange irony she was taller and more slender than her name’, a playful hint not at all distant from Williams’ Blanche dissecting her own name so falsely in A Streetcar Named Desire. Beşir, bringer of good news or prophet, seems almost to give the game away before he has begun.

Yet Halit Ziya does give the game away before he has begun. Forbidden Love and the immediate rendition of Firdevs’ history sets up Bihter’s fall from the very beginning and, like all adulterous women in such novels, her death feels inevitable (I am feeling very tempted to write another post about the agency dynamics of why these women must, narratively, at least, end in disaster). There are few narrative surprises in Aşk-ı Memnu. What is there in abundance, however, is linguistic and symbolic art.

I will only consider the first chapter in detail, but to do so will require much ranging across the text regardless.

From the first chapter, Halit Ziya puts perhaps excessive emphasis on the colours around the Melih Bey set, ‘Melih’ alluding to charm and beauty, the white of Bihter’s veil and the white of their boat against the mahogany of Adnan Bey’s— the innocence of Bihter and the stately rigidity of grief that her marriage to Adnan Bey will bring— and Firdevs’ wish to erase the whiteness of her own hair to prevent the returned innocence and what she perceives as the neutered sexuality of old age.

When ‘[Firdevs’] husband’s name was erased’, this is reflected in the narrative by the literal absence of him or his name. He is subsumed into Firdevs’ in the same way Nihal’s mother is into Adnan and part of Adnan and Bihter’s conflict is perhaps that neither can swallow the other into their world entirely until Bihter is dead.

The scenes between Firdevs and her husband are incredibly rich. The letter in the bouquet not only foreshadows Firdevs’ letter to Behlül, but also renders an image of Firdevs’ nature: a beautiful exterior which conceals an interior of unknown substance. Halit Ziya is a writer; he treats word and narrative as powerful (see the semantic field of literature, narrative and the physical object of the book when Behlül discusses his romantic feelings). No matter how grotesque Firdevs’ external pursuit of beauty becomes, she is notable for having the power of word and falling into the trap of its becoming revelation. She keeps her love letters in the yonic drawers and her husband savagely destroys in what can be read as an attempt to wrest back the masculinity that was lost in the erasure of his name, but when he is dead, Firdevs reasserts herself as masculine in power. She will hunt for a yonic ‘purse’, predatory, though unsuccessful.

The dynamic between public spaces and private spaces is also masterfully utilised. It is in the semi-public space of the river and the boats that Adnan Bey and Bihter’s relationship is born, but it is also there that Firdevs is first revealed to her husband. Forests also function in a similar way— a space where social convention is briefly confused, as in Chapter Seven’s picnic and Chapter Nineteen’s magical forest, oozing with the mutability of a Shakespearian or folkloric forest.

Outside, the narrative concerns itself with fashion, with known histories, with reputation and with mere flirtation, but when Nihat Bey brings the women inside, into their private sphere, the narrative immediately switches to domesticity and marriage. Where the externally focused Firdevs had managed to dominate the novel’s opening, now the internal world belongs to Bihter.

The more the narrator retreats, with Bihter, from the outside world, to the interior of the house, to her own small room, the more aware of her interior thoughts we become and the more tightly she seems to be bound by circumstance.

The early imagined ‘rainbow [...] deluges of green, blue, yellow and crimson, [...] sunshine composed of emeralds, rubies, diamonds and turquoises were being poured’ seems to signify a point of multiple paths, but also becomes the world of her relationship with Adnan. Like Stanley and Stella’s coloured lights in Streetcar, colour becomes dualistic in Chapter Eight, the luxury of jewels and silks becoming the oppressive greens, blues, yellows, and reds flowed over the shadows, creating and destroying each other. These colours of experience, pulling her from her initial ties with white, will once then again morph in to become an emblem not of Bihter and Adnan Bey’s relationship, but of her independence. Reconfigured, Chapter One’s rainbow is now representative of Bihter’s escape from Firdevs, just as Chapter Eight’s is her escape from Adnan into the arms of whatever love she can grasp, be it from herself, or later from Behlül.

Note also that the main item of jewellery Bihter will eventually receive is emerald green as Halit Ziya employs literary shorthand to emphasise Nihal’s envy.

The final confrontation of this chapter takes place on the şehnişin, a space neither inside nor outside, private nor public. Firdevs is most comfortable in the public arena, she wishes to draw Bihter outside, at least partially; it is in this space that Bihter assumes a ‘demeanour peculiar to children’, emphasising her own initially liminal state between childhood and womanhood. It is a ‘dark night’, yet through ‘half-closed eyes’, Bihter watches ‘a speck of light’. Halit Ziya refuses to allow the pair to exist certainly in any capacity.

Even in a single chapter, so many symbols and generic references are invoked. Later, Nihal will repeatedly signal the gothic and the folkloric without the narrative ever truly becoming either of these; Mlle Courton, in Chapter Three incessantly invokes the French sensibility tradition, yet this too, cannot overtake the narrative. Behlül persists in his romance. Yet, in death, Bihter reclaims the genre of the book for her own, enforces her own story. Nihal can try to evade it, try to pretend that she is the heroine who survived the wicked stepmother and her wicked prince, but Bihter’s stamp on the novel cannot be erased. She could not swallow Adnan Bey into the Melih Bey set, but she could swallow his narrative into her genre: the domestic drama wins out.

(I feel like I have to make a little addendum because this is a Tumblr post and not an academic essay; I write with excessive confidence as a stylistic choice. Every single point made here is up for debate.)

#Aşk-ı Memnu #plastic theatre #tennessee williams #margaret atwood #angela carter #halit ziya uşaklıgil #the handmaid's tale #the bloody chamber #a streetcar named desire #symbolism #lit crit

[call-of-the-cascades]

Welcome to Stormclan! ⚡️

Stormclan was founded by Stormstar, formerly known as Storm, a proud and meticulous silver tom. The clan's journey began in a quiet twoleg village where Storm, along with his friends Tide and Moss, led peaceful lives as kittypets. It was Moss's curiosity that initially led them to venture into the nearby forest, where they met Gale, a mysterious cat who shared stories of clans and life in the wilderness.

However, as the seasons changed, tensions grew within the group. These tensions culminated in a tragic confrontation involving Moss, during which she was fatally wounded while trying to intervene, ultimately leading to her death.

Haunted by visions of Moss and consumed by guilt, Storm, Tide, and Gale decided to part ways, with each of them leading their followers in different directions. Storm and his group journeyed north, into the rugged mountains, where they established their territory with large lakes, mountain peaks, meadows, and ice-melt streams. The memory of Moss and the fateful confrontation continued to weigh heavily on Stormclan, shaping its history and the direction they took after parting ways with their friends.

Common Physical Characteristics

Stormclan cats tend to be tall and have sturdy, muscular builds.

Fur length tends to be medium / long to help keep them warm in their mountainous territory.

Coat colors tend to be light. Various shades of whites, silvers, gingers and tans are common.

Large paws and long tails help Stormclan cats when it comes to traversing their territory.

Common Personality Traits

Positive

Adventurous - Stormclan cats thrive in their mountainous territory, exploring its rocky terrain with an unquenchable thirst for adventure.

Brave - When danger strikes, Stormclan cats exhibit unwavering courage, standing firm and facing challenges head-on to protect their clan and territory.

Charming - Cats from other clans often consider Stormclan felines to be some of the most beautiful, with their striking appearances and alluring charm capturing the admiration of many.

Determined - Stormclan members are marked by their determination, never giving up in the face of adversity and tirelessly pursuing their goals.

Negative

Arrogant - Stormclan's self-assuredness can sometimes border on arrogance, as they take pride in their looks and abilities, occasionally leading to conflicts with other clans.

Indifferent - Stormclan cats are often indifferent to the concerns and affairs of other clans, showing little interest in external matters.

Reckless - Their love for adventure may drive Stormclan members to be reckless at times, as they take risks that can put themselves in danger.

Stubborn - Stormclan cats are known for their unyielding determination, but this determination can sometimes morph into stubbornness, making them resistant to change or alternative viewpoints, even when it might be for the best.

Stormclan Culture

In the heart of a diverse and breathtaking territory, Stormclan stands as a shining example of grace, beauty, and formidable strength among the three clans. These cats take immense pride in their looks and resilience, earning their reputation as the most beautiful clan. Their ever-changing territory spans from soaring mountains to tranquil meadows, and dense forests, preparing them for any challenges nature may present.

Stormclan apprentices have the option to choose between two unique roles when they begin training to become warriors. These sub-ranks are known as the Storm Chasers and the Thunder Bringers.

Storm Chasers are agile hunters and weather scouts, ensuring their clan never goes hungry and remains prepared for storms. Thunder Bringers, the protectors, and sentries, work together to tackle formidable adversaries and are known to create a thunderous symphony with their pawsteps when they unite.

At the heart of Stormclan's culture lies unity and loyalty. Cats here understand that their individual strengths are enhanced through collaboration and mutual support, much like their diverse territory. Proud, graceful, and steadfast, Stormclan cats are a force to be reckoned with.

#warrior cats roleplay #warrior cats rp #discord wcrp #wcrp #new wcrp #discord rp #warrior cats #warrior cat roleplay #warrior cat #wc rp #wc roleplay #wc roleplays #call of the cascades

[archerofchaos]

Ya know what while I'm on a roll of being mildly pissed let's talk hellinic polytheism/ paganism.

We're talking about Artemis for a minute. Artemis is a goddess of women, children, childbirth, hunting, the wilderness, chasity, and archery. She's sometimes associated with nighttime, shes always been associated as a sort of opposite to her twin Apollo (who's the God of so may different things that could be summarized as civilization/culture, as well as protector of men, fugitives & children). Together the Divine Twins (as some call them) were considered bringer of death and disease.

Everything I see someone (unsurprisingly mainly radfems) saying 'Artemis is the goddess of lesbianism/ for the lesbians/ect' I kinda get pissed. Occasionally its just a bad joke but usually its just someones bad take. I don't really approve of people labeling gods anyway but you are entirely diminishing the variety Artemis encompasses.

#signed a tired hellinic pagan #i don't discuss religion like at all but im annoyed

[bapydemonprincess]

want to know your HC for how Grell and Rin got togther to have Zoe!

My brain might be a bit pudding-ish rn because I'm at work and running on fumes and also Hands Cold syndrome so it's hard to type, but let me see if I can write this out, as I HAVE discussed my general idea of how she was eventually conceived with @grelleswife, my partner in plotting crime. 💖

At that point of Grelle and Mey's relationship, they'd been together quite a while, and even though it was still canon times and Mey was still at the manor and Grelle still slipping away from her job to see the maid, they'd gotten pretty like reckless with their meet ups and couplings. No longer just meeting at night, but meeting during day times and sometimes while Mey WASN'T at the manor for fun outings. Much like the time grelleswife and I wrote their Valentine's Day Date! ❤️

Basically: EVERYONE KNOWS THEY ARE TOGETHER.

And again, because Grelle realized that fact, she grew a bit careless in bothering to only come every once in a while, and to only kiss and cuddle so much with her darling maid.

She just couldn't resist wanting to faire l'amour to Mey Rin as much as she could!

And so... well.. even a bringer of death can create life, Grelle has discovered..

And on that note, I headcanon that would absolutely not be the first time such an oopsie has happened to Grelle Sutcliff. BUT, it definitely is rare, considering her male to female lovers ratio is typically more on having male lovers..

But that's another reason why it hasn't happened MUCH, because the lady death only finds a fellow sapphic once in a blue moon.. And well, her last lady before Mey had clearly been Angelina, and if you know her story, you know there was no possibilities there.. 💔

Back to our present loving ladies; I suspect like in many scenarios like this, they had no CLUE right after, and a day or two maybe went by...

Grelle may be a being that collects souls, but that doesn't mean she has some grand power to sense a new soul that has just been made!

So just like her Mey Mey, she was oblivious for a time of what they'd done in one of their best nights of passion, and perhaps, if not for another immortal being who CAN sense new souls, she would have remained oblivious up until the signs of a pregnancy in progress started to show up.

However Sebastian Michaelis, despite being a creature known for SIN and VICE, was quite displeased with this new development, under this very important roof and in this very important noble house.

He was in Mey Rin's bedroom as Grelle arrived in a typical fashion to see her love, and he informed her that they needed to talk right now.

And as he actually grabbed her wrist to drag her out in a particular direction, the reaper's mind went to an extreme direction with all this, and IMMEDIATELY attacked the butler, assuming he was holding back information on something that had happened to Mey Rin, perhaps such as their finagling had lead to her getting punished by this bastard and his bratty master!!

But the butler interrupted her shrieks of outrage, informing her he was taking her directly to Mey Rin, as they were BOTH in need of discussing something very important!

"Fine," the reaper huffed and pulled away from him where she'd pinned him down and shaken him, gripping his jacket violently, "then take me to her, tout de suite, demon!"

And rolling his eyes and getting up and brushing himself off, Sebastian continued.

Mey Rin was just in the kitchen. And just sitting in a chair, fiddling with her hands, also looking confused and uncertain of what was going on.

However seeing Sebastian return, but with her lover Grelle, Mey Rin practically flew out of that chair, knocking it to the floor, to jump into Grelle's relieved arms.

"Oh Grelle, oh I hope everythin' is okay!! I dunno why Mr. Sebastian was really persistent he was that I stay here an' wait fer 'im t'come back, an' an' he'd said he was gettin' YOU but I didn't know 'OW he was an' WHY an'--"

"Oh darling, hush now, I'm sure we'll sort this out, surely it's nothing too serious that genius ladies such as ourselves cannot work together to fix!"

A clearing of a throat.

"Ladies.. please sit so we can proceed.. and get right to the issue at hand."

Both ladies were semi hesitant to humor the butler, considering despite letting them be, he was quite miffed every night he had to endure overhearing them have their fun in the maid's quarters.

But Sebastian's extra serious expression could not be denied in this matter and they slowly parted and carefully sat, eyes darting from each other to him constantly and silently.

The butler actually took a breath, at first, before looking upon the ladies with something bordering mild concern.

"Beforehand I wish to say it is entirely up to you both how you'll handle this. You are both adults, and though this will be.. strange territory, especially to you Mey Rin," He looked upon her with an especially concerning look, "I will leave it entirely up to you on how to work this out."

"What the devil are you talking about, Bassy??" Grelle shrieked, letting annoyance cover up her fear of the unknown, "is this something to do with other reapers coming to muck about and try separating us?? Just describe what they look like and I'll take care of them myself!"

Sebastian raised a hand firmly.

"No, nothing of the sort. There is no outside parties trying to separate you, and this is an issue much more.. internal than that."

Grelle went quiet, and even more deadly serious herself, lips a thin line, her eyes shining behind her glasses.

"Then what could it possibly be?"

Sebastian closed his eyes almost solemn-like.

"I am a demon as you both know now," he started. (Side note: I of course headcanon by now that Mey Rin knows of this as she knows Grelle is a reaper)

"And one of the most obvious abilities of my kind is being able to sense souls. From the old and dying kind.. to the new and having just been created kind.."

He opened his eyes and looked from the reaper, slowly over to the maid.

"And so you see, on one particular night, about three days ago mind you, I sensed the.. creation of a new life."

He paused and let that statement linger, observing them, watching as both ladies' faces changed from confusion and fear and paranoia to... more confusion, more fear, but.. not exactly paranoia.

"L... like a... b... baby??" Mey Rin squeaked, barely choking out the last word.

Sebastian nodded once, and as he spoke again found his voice softer, gentler. Perhaps out of... sympathy for the young woman?? He wasn't sure himself..

"Exactly. A baby. A human infant had been.. conceived. Though I know some humans do not consider it much of a baby at that point, if at all. It depends on the human's--"

"WHERE??!!" Mey Rin suddenly shouted with excitement out of the blue, standing and smacking her hands down on the table, "WHO IS HAVIN' A BABY, MR. SEBASTIAN?! WE- WE AIN'T AROUND MANY FAMILY HOLMES OUT HERE, NO WE AIN'T-- M-MAYBE IT WAS ACTUALLY AN ANIMAL LIKE A COW OR-- OR--"

"N-No, Mey Rin, that's not--"

"Oh, p-poppet.." Grelle's much more emotional voice cracked out, interrupting Sebastian as he'd interrupted Mey Rin.

Sebastian's eyebrows flew up as he looked over at the reaper, and beheld a look he'd.. sworn he'd never seen on Grelle Sutcliff before.

Her gloved hands were over her mouth and nose firmly, in a familiar way to restrain sobs from coming forth.

Her phosphorescent eyes that were usually animated were practically drowning in held back tears.

These traits, combined with how she'd spoken, drove home that.. Grelle was not taking this situation the way Sebastian had assumed she would.. Considering..

In fact...

Grelle Sutcliff seemed rather...

Ecstatic!

"Wh-whot's wrong, luv??" the maid asked immediately, still not yet comprehending the full situation.

However instead of verbally answering Grelle was scooping up the other woman in seconds flat, holding her tightly, as her tears finally escaped her eyes and streamed down her rosy cheeks. She kissed the woman all over her confused little face and pet her hair and when she was finally FINALLY able to talk, she was lowering herself, on the floor, on one knee, looking up at Mey Rin.

"Mey Rin... FORGET what Sebastian said about it being up to BOTH of us-- It's your body. Not mine. Not his. Not ANYONE elses. Just..Just know.."

She had to take a breath.

"If you choose to keep this baby, I will stay right here beside you, for the entirety.. I will see this out, through thick and thin--"

"W.. wh.. what.." Mey was barely able to squeak out, but clearly now she'd understood the gravity of this ordeal, and it was clearly currently sinking in, as she stared down at Grelle before her, like one of those grand knights in fairy tales, swearing to protect and honor her princess paramour.

"You're pregnant Mey Mey!" Grelle told her, no accusation in sight. Simply getting to the point.

"I'm.. preg.. nant??" Mey blubbered out, eyes getting as watery now as Grelle's.

"With MY baby!! ...OUR baby!!!" Grelle continued, insisting with a hint of pride to her tone now, for she knew for certain there was no way it could be any other...

Considering she'd been the very one to deflower the sweet maid herself!

"I... I.... I'M SO..." Was all Mey could manage, before practically falling out of the chair she'd sat in this whole time, all because she wished to fall into Grelle's arms as she sobbed and sobbed.

...

Overall, just as written, both ladies took this news from the demon butler surprisingly well, and began at once to plot out how they would handle this.

Seeing as it was still an era of pregnancy being quite dangerous, especially if foisted upon a lady that was not married nor a noble of some sort, both maid and reaper had to keep mum outside the manor.

Of course this meant the others within the manor were brought in the know, but as mainly they were all on Mey Rin's side, even the Earl himself (though he might have.. threatened the reaper a bit after confronting her..), they all planned to help the ladies however they could with the process.

And speaking of marriage..

It was one f the first things on Grelle Sutcliff's mind after learning of the situation!

By Hell or high water, she was going to make this RIGHT, dammit. She was going to MARRY Mey Rin!

And proceeded to find the most gorgeous pink crystal heart engagement ring to present to Mey Rin, asking for her hand.

Which was of course accepted! 💖❤️

And again, all of this; the wedding and the pregnancy remained under wraps very tightly, under the secure watch of Phantomhive.

And after nine intense but seemingly swift dizzying months, on a foggy early English morning, after eight grueling hours of pain and tears and fear aplenty...

Mey Rin and Grelle Sutcliff got to meet their new daughter, a new life, that they had created together...

A Grim Reaper and human maid...

Zoe Sutcliff.

#varioushues #my oc #kuroshitsuj oc #kuroshitsuji #Grelle Sutcliff #Mey Rin #Grellerin #Grellrin #Zoe Sutcliff #Thank you so much for the ask!!!

[marine-indie-gal]

According to Ancient Greek Lore, Persephone’s name actually means “Bringer of Death”. However, her Second Name, “Kore” (sometimes spelled “Cora”) means “Maiden”.

I figure why not draw Persephone and Proserpina in their fierce mood since the Wives of Hades and Pluto are described being more powerful than their own husbands, even Greeks and Romans feared the Goddesses of Spring back then more than the Lords of the Underworld themselves.

Long before I made my own designs/takes on the Gods, at first, when I first heard about the true name meaning behind the name, “Persephone” I was deeply in shocked yet surprised to see on how that the name of Hades’ Wife had actually something to due with death (which is weird considering that she is the Goddess of Spring). Maybe Persephone is also part Death Deity like her Husband since she is known to be the Second Ruler of the Underworld by her Husband’s Side. 

I honestly imagine that if Greek/Roman Gods were in the show, Persephone and Proserpina would definitely take down Burger Beard and The Flying Dutchman.

Persephone/Proserpina (c) Greco-Roman Mythology

SpongeBob SquarePants (c) Stephen Hillenburg

#spongebob squarepants #the spongebob movie sponge on the run #sponge on the run #Greek Mythology #Roman Mythology #Greco-Roman Mythology #persephone #proserpina

[warriors-rewritten-chaos]

Warriors Rewrite- The Tribe Rewritten: The Lunar Feles

So I’ve recently stumbled across a post addressing exactly why a lot of people consider The Tribe of Rushing Water to be a collection of racist stereotypes. Knowing what I’ve learned from that post now, I cannot keep the Tribe in my story as it’s presented in canon. And since this is sort of my “fix things the Erins did wrong” rewrite, I want to change it to be less offensively stereotypical towards indigenous people.

However.

I myself am not an indigenous person and I do not believe that I would be able to correctly and accurately portray an indigenous culture. So therefore I have changed it to be something closer to what I believe I can pull off without falling into offensive stereotypes. If any of this still falls into any offensive stereotypes please tell me.

So here we are!

Name Meaning

The name Lunar Feles essentially just means “Moon Cats” in Latin because I’m uncreative. The reason behind this name change will be explained below.

Stoneteller      Druid

The Celtic religion was led by spiritual leaders known as druids. Since the Lunar Feles define themselves by their worship of the moon as the bringer of life and their general leader is also a spiritual one, I thought Druid was the best option to name it after.

Unlike Stonetellers in canon, Druids don’t change their name when they become Druid.

The Druid gains an incredibly strong power from Lady Half Moon when they ascend to their position. Specifically, they gain the ability to see the future. This is in contrast to the nine lives StarClan grants their Leaders. Druids are mentally and spiritually tethered to their goddess and constantly receive visions. They live nearly their entire lives in a special cave with a hole above showing the sky to better pick up on these visions.

Other Changed Roles

Not much has really changed here besides the addition of a Healer role (called Cleric) and that Prey-Hunters are renamed Rangers, Cave-Guards are now just Guards, Kit-Mothers are Guardians, and To-Bes are Squires.

Naming Conventions

Since the Lunar Feles are the remnants of the precursor Tribe (called the Caelestia Feles in this AU) that led to the Clan cats, why not keep the Ancient Clan-adjacent name conventions and style?

Here are some examples of some changed canon names:

Brook Where Small Fish Swim = Small Brook

Rain That Rattles on Stones = Rattling Rain

Night of No Stars = Sightless Night

Dark Shadow on Water = Dark Shadow

Territory and Lifestyle

The Lunar Feles make their home in an expansive cave system near the top of a mountain. While the cave system provides them with water and safety, it has little to nothing in the way of food. Therefore a class of hunters leave the caves each day to catch prey. While their main sources of food are either scavenged carcasses from kills made by larger predators or small rodents and birds, the Lunar Feles have adapted a method of hunting large birds of prey as well. While they rarely use it as the method is incredibly dangerous for the cats involved, it is sometimes necessary (mostly in times of famine). 

Rangers (the hunters) are the only Tribe cats who ever leave the caves. Guards will spend their entire lives in the caves.

Spirituality

The Lunar Feles worship a goddess known as “Lady Half Moon”. Half Moon was the first Leader of the Tribe of Rushing Water as appointed by Jay’s Wing in the books, but here she is an all-powerful entity that takes the form of a black cat with stars in her pelt and half a moon for a face. She is an eldritch goddess of death and rebirth in a cycle, something that I imagine that cats who live in such a dangerous place as the mountains are very familiar with. While StarClan and the Dark Forest are held together by large groups of cat spirits, Lady Half Moon is capable of holding her own pocket of space-time open for her loyal worshippers to contact her and go when they die.

Once upon a time, though, there were two gods worshipped by the then-called Caelestia Feles. In addition to the Lady Half Moon, there was also the god of fate, whose name has been lost to time. But who knows, he may be still around...

#Warrior Cats #warrior cats rewrite #the lunar feles (the tribe of rushing water) #worldbuilding #while researching for this I learned that cats are also scavengers #which is where the carcass thing comes from #also the mountain has very little food in general so they take what they can get