I wipe away the mansion's dirt!

"The housemaid shall purge the filth from this manor!"
Independent RP blog for Mey Rin from Kuroshitsuji. The artwork is not mine, but most of the icons are edited by me. I will RP with anyone, Kuro or non-Kuro, OC or canon. Don't be afraid to shoot me a message!
*semi-hiatus*

chocolatea-earl:

Ciel with sunglasses B)

Stranger in a Strange Land (Closed RP: entreri-artemis & thephantomhivemaid)

entreri-artemis:

Entreri watches with fascination as the other man pulls on a pair of extremely pliable gloves. They are thin, as thin as the finest leather, yet seeming to possess a surprising amount of durability. So intrigued is the assassin about the strange material that he almost doesn’t catch the rest of the doctor’s explanations. He is glad that his subconscious dutifully records events that he doesn’t consciously observe, for it gains him yet more information that he did not have before.

His ears perk up at the mention of the assaults. Although Entreri knows little about the doctor’s personal history, from what he has seen of Meyrin and her associates thus far, he suspects that the sort of things the other man would describe as “strange” would be quite outlandish indeed. He patiently waits through the unseemly long pause, his dark eyes weighing each twitch of the doctor’s fingers as they work so close to his own skin with shiny metal implements. The assassin can understand the care that this man takes in his profession, but nonetheless, all of the extra effort seems showy and unnecessary. However, Entreri reminds himself, things are different in this land, and to assume that he knows what is driving someone’s actions may very well lead to his undoing.

He stifles a wince as the old bandaging pulls free of his wound, ripping away skin that dried blood had adhered to the bandage despite the doctor’s gentle maneuvers. He perceives the other man start to ask a question, stop, and then make a query that is apparently not the one he originally intended to ask. As Entreri contemplates the implications of his observation, he replies, “Three.” Then, driven by more than simple curiosity, he asks, “What did the lacerations on the victims look like?” There is so much troubling information already, and the newest piece has the assassin feeling concerned. His survival depends on information, and especially with him in a weakened condition, knowledge becomes all the more desirable. He knows well the propensity of the multiverse to bring strange individuals and circumstances across his path, which brings him to expect that he will have to face whatever it is that is inflicting these “strange lacerations”. Blowing an internal sigh, Entreri turns over all the pieces that he has garnered already in his mind as he waits for the doctor’s response. He looks over to Meyrin, and is oddly discomforted to see that she looks as intrigued as he feels.

Meyrin is about to ask the same question when Entreri asks it first, earning an expression of confusion from the doctor, and Meyrin can tell he doesn’t quite know where to begin. 

"The injuries themselves seem to have been made by an extremely sharp weapon wielded by someone with some knowledge of human anatomy. If you can believe it, some people are theorizing the injuries are the cause of a sword!" he chuckles a bit, "Which is odd in itself! Those weapons have been out of favor for quite some time, except among a select few!"

Meyrin steals a glance at Entreri and offers a smile. If only the doctor knew! Thankfully, the doctor is the type to have a very narrow focus of attention, once he’s in front of a patient, nothing else comes into his line of vision unless it has to do with the injury or the patient. He doesn’t see Meyrin shifting her position to be in front of Entreri’s belongings and prevent the doctor from catching a peek at them, especially that jeweled dagger. He would likely think Entreri responsible for the series of incidents, and who would think otherwise given the limited information? 

Unlike the doctor, Meyrin does not suspect Entreri of anything besides what occurred at that very mansion. She can tell he is as curious as she, besides, he appeared to have literally just popped up where she found him, he looked that out of place. 

The doctor continues, “It’s not only the weapon that is thought to have been used, but the state of the bodies,” he mutters, applying ointment to Entreri’s wounds with a cotton swab. “I’ve said we have many at the hospital who are being taken care of. Those are the ones who survived. Some of the victims have been injured to a point beyond recognition. There were no defensive wounds. It appears as though they were unconscious when it occurred.”

This information bothered Meyrin. Strange people with strange weapons, and people being injured in such a way? She’d need to report this to Bard and Finny as soon as possible. There were quite a few implications of all this, the most important of which was to ensure the mansion continued to be protected. With Sebastian gone for a few days, it was the three servants. Meyrin was now thinking she may have to push forward her lessons with Entreri, teaching him how to properly use a handgun. The man would need to defend himself with something other than his odd demonic dagger. He had just described his injuries as a “3”, so she figured he could take it. 

"Doctor, how many people have been attacked?"

The doctor finished applying the new bandages on his patient before responding, “Twenty seven in hospital. Fourteen in the ground.”

Meyrin couldn’t help but think perhaps this is what was keeping the Young Master and Sebastian in the city. 

Have some dancing skeletons.

image

Send me ₩ for my muse to sit in your muse’s lap

clanked:

yeah a boyfriend sounds nice but a supreme enemy you can make out with sometimes in secret sounds a lot more hardcore

Send me “Suck my dick.” For my Muse’s reaction to yours demanding this to them.

Kuroshitsuji / Shina Himetsuka: Doujinshi ; 666 Days / Ciel Phantomhive

kit-kat-sb:

iraffiruse:

HURR DURR DURR IMA DOG

I DON’ USUALLY REBLOG SHIT LIKE THIS BUT I LAUGHED SO HARD IT ECHOED

mayaukato09:

That’s why humans are interesting. (I think it’s scary sometimes, that I could recall certain quotes from the manga, from memory). XD

hirakawa-sama:

If you don’t want a transparent picture of Sebastian Michaelis disguised as a sexy hot teacher on your blog, you’re lying to yourself.

In Sickness and in Health ~ RP @bardalicious

bardalicious:

thephantomhivemaid:

Meyrin knew it must be very painful for everyone present, but she couldn’t get herself to react as the kids, one by one, had begun to demand their father’s attention. She thought back to other times, other Welcome Home celebrations, and half expected Bard to somehow remember and begin to act like a father again. That he would hug the children, lift Tommy into his arms and over his shoulders and then she’d cook whatever he asked for.

That was not going to be the case.

And when she heard Bard’s request it all came crashing down. She should have kept the children away from him perhaps, or taken him straight up to their bedroom so he could sleep.

She swallowed hard, the knot in her throat making it difficult, but she nodded slowly.

"I’ll drive you," she said, her voice small as she grabbed her keys and purse from the countertop.

Melody’s face had fallen too, and she looked like she was trying her best not to cry, while Tony made a noise that sounded like a sigh. As Meyrin looked at her son, she noticed he too looked disappointed.

"I’m going to my room," he announced. "See ya later," he waved at Bard before going upstairs, grabbing Melody’s hand as he went. The girl followed, but not before pulling away from her brother quickly to give her father a quick hug.

"I’m glad you’re home daddy," she said, letting go of him and running upstairs.

Meyrin searched Bard’s expression for any sign of recognition.

"We’re all happy to see you home in one piece," she held back from running and stealing a kiss from him, blinking the thought away. "I understand if you need extra time to get used to this chaos," she forced a weak laugh, looking at his directly then. "I love you. And I know you don’t remember but you love me too. So, if what you need is to be away from here, I’ll be happy to take you to a hotel."

When Melody hugged her, his natural instinct told him to back away. But the way she trembled made him turn that away, and awkwardly he returned the hug. He was confused, he didn’t know what to think and though he knew they were trying-he wasn’t sure about their intentions and why they were his family.

His ‘wife’ seemed too good for him, and could he be sure the children he saw today were his? But looking at the little girl holding onto him, though she wasn’t little now-there was no doubt. She had his eyes, his everything-the only separating them was gender. 

"Okay," He responded after a moment, "I’m sorry, I’m just confused." 

Meyrin shook her head and approached him, stopping close enough to where she could reach out her hand to his cheek gently. “I understand,” she gazed into his eyes. She couldn’t begin to imagine how difficult this all must be for him. 

She gave him a small smile and withdrew her hand, walking to the living room. Atop the chimney there was a family portrait, taken when the twins were toddlers. It was not large, only about 5x7, so Meyrin took it and walked back to her husband. 

"Take this with you," she said, picking up one of his bags, one of the ones she knew he usually packed clothes in. "Maybe it’ll help you remember," she smiled. 

She led him to the family car and got in the driver’s seat, and waited for him to get in. 

Addicted ~ short fic thingie

This is a thing I wrote a long time ago and posted to another website. I am no longer as active on that other site, but I was looking through my old stories and found it. Here it is now. It is #NSFW, be warned. ~~~~~~~

There was a time when she was normal. Before she joined the Phantomhive household, leaving her career as a professional sniper to protect the estate. She was relatively normal.

Free.

Ignorant of the desperation that comes from wanting someone so badly you could feel your mind tearing apart from you at the mere thought of losing yourself to that passion.

That person.

Him.

From day one she saw something in him that stuck with her. He was more than just a perfect butler, he was perfection.

From day one he saw something in her that struck him. It was just a look, just a gaze.

Fire.

In his long life as a demon he’d never played with what humans called ‘love.’ He became curious for the first time. He wanted to touch the fire. Her fire.

He hates idle time. He needs to occupy himself with something.

Addiction.

The word itself tends to have a negative connotation. But when you’re a demon and sleep is a luxury, well, what can you do in the hours between putting the master to bed and getting dressed for the following day.

He became addicted.

To that first night, one week after her arrival, when he’d knocked on her door and she’d let him in. He said he wanted to congratulate her on adjusting successfully to her new life. Then he saw it again, the gaze, the fire in her eyes. He had to touch it.

He’d kissed her. When she didn’t pull away, he disrobed her, and then let her return the favor. He’d wanted to touch her everywhere, and so he did. She didn’t try to stop him. She welcomed everything he did to her that night, even when he took her and he could see she was in pain.

She never tried to stop him. Not once.

That night everything changed.

He was hooked. Addicted to every encounter that followed that night, always, always in the darkness of her bedroom. Each night he showed her something new about her body, some new pleasure to be had. She hungrily took anything that he wanted to do to her.

She was hooked. Addicted to his hands, the flicks of his tongue, the nips at her shoulders, her neck, her mouth, the hands on her hips that like to hold her in place as he thrusts inside, whether with his cock, his tongue, or his fingers, as if telling her that she is going nowhere else but wherever he wants her to be.

This is their little secret.

Her body drips with sweat, her fluids drip down her inner thighs, as she pants and squirms under his body, or wherever he might want her to be at any given time. Moaning his name in the middle of the night, as he drives her to ecstasy again, and again, and again, making her truly believe from the bottom of her heart that he simply cannot be human.

He loves it.

He loves the effect of her body to his hands, his tongue, his cock. It drips with excitement at the thought of being inside her again, and give her what she wants. He loves how easily he slips into her, how she tears at his body with her fingernails upon its entrance, how only he can go this deep inside her.

Human or not, she is his woman. And he would not let her forget. Never. The night is theirs.

Each time he notices a glance from another toward his woman, be it by Bardroy, Finnian, or any other guest, each time she makes some comment about another man, he makes her remember why she continues to long only for him.

He knows just what to do every time to keep her hooked on it. Hooked on him.

And when morning comes, everything goes back to normal.

viwan themes
t. You can move the credit to another page, as long as it remains on the blog. -->
I wipe away the mansion's dirt!

"The housemaid shall purge the filth from this manor!"
Independent RP blog for Mey Rin from Kuroshitsuji. The artwork is not mine, but most of the icons are edited by me. I will RP with anyone, Kuro or non-Kuro, OC or canon. Don't be afraid to shoot me a message!
*semi-hiatus*

chocolatea-earl:

Ciel with sunglasses B)

Stranger in a Strange Land (Closed RP: entreri-artemis & thephantomhivemaid)

entreri-artemis:

Entreri watches with fascination as the other man pulls on a pair of extremely pliable gloves. They are thin, as thin as the finest leather, yet seeming to possess a surprising amount of durability. So intrigued is the assassin about the strange material that he almost doesn’t catch the rest of the doctor’s explanations. He is glad that his subconscious dutifully records events that he doesn’t consciously observe, for it gains him yet more information that he did not have before.

His ears perk up at the mention of the assaults. Although Entreri knows little about the doctor’s personal history, from what he has seen of Meyrin and her associates thus far, he suspects that the sort of things the other man would describe as “strange” would be quite outlandish indeed. He patiently waits through the unseemly long pause, his dark eyes weighing each twitch of the doctor’s fingers as they work so close to his own skin with shiny metal implements. The assassin can understand the care that this man takes in his profession, but nonetheless, all of the extra effort seems showy and unnecessary. However, Entreri reminds himself, things are different in this land, and to assume that he knows what is driving someone’s actions may very well lead to his undoing.

He stifles a wince as the old bandaging pulls free of his wound, ripping away skin that dried blood had adhered to the bandage despite the doctor’s gentle maneuvers. He perceives the other man start to ask a question, stop, and then make a query that is apparently not the one he originally intended to ask. As Entreri contemplates the implications of his observation, he replies, “Three.” Then, driven by more than simple curiosity, he asks, “What did the lacerations on the victims look like?” There is so much troubling information already, and the newest piece has the assassin feeling concerned. His survival depends on information, and especially with him in a weakened condition, knowledge becomes all the more desirable. He knows well the propensity of the multiverse to bring strange individuals and circumstances across his path, which brings him to expect that he will have to face whatever it is that is inflicting these “strange lacerations”. Blowing an internal sigh, Entreri turns over all the pieces that he has garnered already in his mind as he waits for the doctor’s response. He looks over to Meyrin, and is oddly discomforted to see that she looks as intrigued as he feels.

Meyrin is about to ask the same question when Entreri asks it first, earning an expression of confusion from the doctor, and Meyrin can tell he doesn’t quite know where to begin. 

"The injuries themselves seem to have been made by an extremely sharp weapon wielded by someone with some knowledge of human anatomy. If you can believe it, some people are theorizing the injuries are the cause of a sword!" he chuckles a bit, "Which is odd in itself! Those weapons have been out of favor for quite some time, except among a select few!"

Meyrin steals a glance at Entreri and offers a smile. If only the doctor knew! Thankfully, the doctor is the type to have a very narrow focus of attention, once he’s in front of a patient, nothing else comes into his line of vision unless it has to do with the injury or the patient. He doesn’t see Meyrin shifting her position to be in front of Entreri’s belongings and prevent the doctor from catching a peek at them, especially that jeweled dagger. He would likely think Entreri responsible for the series of incidents, and who would think otherwise given the limited information? 

Unlike the doctor, Meyrin does not suspect Entreri of anything besides what occurred at that very mansion. She can tell he is as curious as she, besides, he appeared to have literally just popped up where she found him, he looked that out of place. 

The doctor continues, “It’s not only the weapon that is thought to have been used, but the state of the bodies,” he mutters, applying ointment to Entreri’s wounds with a cotton swab. “I’ve said we have many at the hospital who are being taken care of. Those are the ones who survived. Some of the victims have been injured to a point beyond recognition. There were no defensive wounds. It appears as though they were unconscious when it occurred.”

This information bothered Meyrin. Strange people with strange weapons, and people being injured in such a way? She’d need to report this to Bard and Finny as soon as possible. There were quite a few implications of all this, the most important of which was to ensure the mansion continued to be protected. With Sebastian gone for a few days, it was the three servants. Meyrin was now thinking she may have to push forward her lessons with Entreri, teaching him how to properly use a handgun. The man would need to defend himself with something other than his odd demonic dagger. He had just described his injuries as a “3”, so she figured he could take it. 

"Doctor, how many people have been attacked?"

The doctor finished applying the new bandages on his patient before responding, “Twenty seven in hospital. Fourteen in the ground.”

Meyrin couldn’t help but think perhaps this is what was keeping the Young Master and Sebastian in the city. 

Have some dancing skeletons.

image

Send me ₩ for my muse to sit in your muse’s lap

clanked:

yeah a boyfriend sounds nice but a supreme enemy you can make out with sometimes in secret sounds a lot more hardcore

Send me “Suck my dick.” For my Muse’s reaction to yours demanding this to them.

Kuroshitsuji / Shina Himetsuka: Doujinshi ; 666 Days / Ciel Phantomhive

kit-kat-sb:

iraffiruse:

HURR DURR DURR IMA DOG

I DON’ USUALLY REBLOG SHIT LIKE THIS BUT I LAUGHED SO HARD IT ECHOED

mayaukato09:

That’s why humans are interesting. (I think it’s scary sometimes, that I could recall certain quotes from the manga, from memory). XD

hirakawa-sama:

If you don’t want a transparent picture of Sebastian Michaelis disguised as a sexy hot teacher on your blog, you’re lying to yourself.

In Sickness and in Health ~ RP @bardalicious

bardalicious:

thephantomhivemaid:

Meyrin knew it must be very painful for everyone present, but she couldn’t get herself to react as the kids, one by one, had begun to demand their father’s attention. She thought back to other times, other Welcome Home celebrations, and half expected Bard to somehow remember and begin to act like a father again. That he would hug the children, lift Tommy into his arms and over his shoulders and then she’d cook whatever he asked for.

That was not going to be the case.

And when she heard Bard’s request it all came crashing down. She should have kept the children away from him perhaps, or taken him straight up to their bedroom so he could sleep.

She swallowed hard, the knot in her throat making it difficult, but she nodded slowly.

"I’ll drive you," she said, her voice small as she grabbed her keys and purse from the countertop.

Melody’s face had fallen too, and she looked like she was trying her best not to cry, while Tony made a noise that sounded like a sigh. As Meyrin looked at her son, she noticed he too looked disappointed.

"I’m going to my room," he announced. "See ya later," he waved at Bard before going upstairs, grabbing Melody’s hand as he went. The girl followed, but not before pulling away from her brother quickly to give her father a quick hug.

"I’m glad you’re home daddy," she said, letting go of him and running upstairs.

Meyrin searched Bard’s expression for any sign of recognition.

"We’re all happy to see you home in one piece," she held back from running and stealing a kiss from him, blinking the thought away. "I understand if you need extra time to get used to this chaos," she forced a weak laugh, looking at his directly then. "I love you. And I know you don’t remember but you love me too. So, if what you need is to be away from here, I’ll be happy to take you to a hotel."

When Melody hugged her, his natural instinct told him to back away. But the way she trembled made him turn that away, and awkwardly he returned the hug. He was confused, he didn’t know what to think and though he knew they were trying-he wasn’t sure about their intentions and why they were his family.

His ‘wife’ seemed too good for him, and could he be sure the children he saw today were his? But looking at the little girl holding onto him, though she wasn’t little now-there was no doubt. She had his eyes, his everything-the only separating them was gender. 

"Okay," He responded after a moment, "I’m sorry, I’m just confused." 

Meyrin shook her head and approached him, stopping close enough to where she could reach out her hand to his cheek gently. “I understand,” she gazed into his eyes. She couldn’t begin to imagine how difficult this all must be for him. 

She gave him a small smile and withdrew her hand, walking to the living room. Atop the chimney there was a family portrait, taken when the twins were toddlers. It was not large, only about 5x7, so Meyrin took it and walked back to her husband. 

"Take this with you," she said, picking up one of his bags, one of the ones she knew he usually packed clothes in. "Maybe it’ll help you remember," she smiled. 

She led him to the family car and got in the driver’s seat, and waited for him to get in. 

Addicted ~ short fic thingie

This is a thing I wrote a long time ago and posted to another website. I am no longer as active on that other site, but I was looking through my old stories and found it. Here it is now. It is #NSFW, be warned. ~~~~~~~

There was a time when she was normal. Before she joined the Phantomhive household, leaving her career as a professional sniper to protect the estate. She was relatively normal.

Free.

Ignorant of the desperation that comes from wanting someone so badly you could feel your mind tearing apart from you at the mere thought of losing yourself to that passion.

That person.

Him.

From day one she saw something in him that stuck with her. He was more than just a perfect butler, he was perfection.

From day one he saw something in her that struck him. It was just a look, just a gaze.

Fire.

In his long life as a demon he’d never played with what humans called ‘love.’ He became curious for the first time. He wanted to touch the fire. Her fire.

He hates idle time. He needs to occupy himself with something.

Addiction.

The word itself tends to have a negative connotation. But when you’re a demon and sleep is a luxury, well, what can you do in the hours between putting the master to bed and getting dressed for the following day.

He became addicted.

To that first night, one week after her arrival, when he’d knocked on her door and she’d let him in. He said he wanted to congratulate her on adjusting successfully to her new life. Then he saw it again, the gaze, the fire in her eyes. He had to touch it.

He’d kissed her. When she didn’t pull away, he disrobed her, and then let her return the favor. He’d wanted to touch her everywhere, and so he did. She didn’t try to stop him. She welcomed everything he did to her that night, even when he took her and he could see she was in pain.

She never tried to stop him. Not once.

That night everything changed.

He was hooked. Addicted to every encounter that followed that night, always, always in the darkness of her bedroom. Each night he showed her something new about her body, some new pleasure to be had. She hungrily took anything that he wanted to do to her.

She was hooked. Addicted to his hands, the flicks of his tongue, the nips at her shoulders, her neck, her mouth, the hands on her hips that like to hold her in place as he thrusts inside, whether with his cock, his tongue, or his fingers, as if telling her that she is going nowhere else but wherever he wants her to be.

This is their little secret.

Her body drips with sweat, her fluids drip down her inner thighs, as she pants and squirms under his body, or wherever he might want her to be at any given time. Moaning his name in the middle of the night, as he drives her to ecstasy again, and again, and again, making her truly believe from the bottom of her heart that he simply cannot be human.

He loves it.

He loves the effect of her body to his hands, his tongue, his cock. It drips with excitement at the thought of being inside her again, and give her what she wants. He loves how easily he slips into her, how she tears at his body with her fingernails upon its entrance, how only he can go this deep inside her.

Human or not, she is his woman. And he would not let her forget. Never. The night is theirs.

Each time he notices a glance from another toward his woman, be it by Bardroy, Finnian, or any other guest, each time she makes some comment about another man, he makes her remember why she continues to long only for him.

He knows just what to do every time to keep her hooked on it. Hooked on him.

And when morning comes, everything goes back to normal.

viwan themes