#i hate mothers so much. mine is homophobic as well despite her best friend being a literal lesbian. fucking I fucking hate old people

[whatdoscissorsdo]

twitter rant

#i hate myself omygof #ive been spending so much time on twitter that I almost told someone to kys #i didn’t though bc ik thats bad no matter the context but what the fuck someone’s mom on twitter logged on their account #and was tweeting about how their child talking about lgbt stuff is immoral #and the owner of the account- her child- committed and is currently on life support #and this mf is out here being homophobic on twitter #i hate mothers so much. mine is homophobic as well despite her best friend being a literal lesbian. fucking I fucking hate old people #can’t wait for until like 50 years when all these annoying old fucks stop existing #suicide tw #homophobia tw

[cristinablackthornkingson]

This Poor Unruly Heart.  A Thomastair fic.

Cross-posted to my AO3. 

***TW/CW**** Alcoholism. Homophobia. Homophobic slurs. (Shortened version of the F slur is used) Emotional abuse. Abusive parent. Abusive relationships. Mention of child loss.

It is a cold Winter’s day in late 1903, when both Alastair Carstairs and Thomas Lightwood, make the most terrifying and nerve wracking decision of their lives. After 3 months of being with each other they have decided to hide no longer, and come out to their parents.

Out of the two of them, Alastair is certainly most terrified, for so long Charles made him believe that he would always have to live in secret, he manipulated and twisted him into believing that everyone would be disgusted and hate him. Alastair knows his mother is a very traditional woman, and throughout his childhood he has heard his father throw around slurs and nasty words about people like Alastair.

However Alastair does not want to hide anymore, like he had to with Charles, he loves Thomas and wants everyone to know that, no matter what. With Elias still being in Idris for another day or so, Alastair will have a chance to speak with him privately, if all goes well with telling his mother.

Cordelia has known that Alastair is gay for a while now, she was the first person he came out to, and has been nothing but loving and supportive toward him, when he told her his plans to come out to their parents, she offered to be there for moral support. Alastair happily agreed, glad to have her to lean on.

So now he has found himself in the drawing room of Cirenworth, sitting on the couch next to Cordelia, across from their mother, who at 7 months pregnant looks more stressed, tired and ill than Alastair has ever seen her. He’s terrified of stressing her out and worrying her further, afraid of hurting her or the baby, but he refuses to have his baby brother or sister born into a world where their big brother is hiding a big part of who he is. If the baby is like Alastair, he wants them to have a good influence, someone to look up to and admire, like he has always secretly admired Anna.

“What trouble have you two gotten into now?” Sona’s tired but amused voice pulls Alastair from his thoughts. He smiles and lets out a breathy laugh, his poor mother having to deal with everything he and Cordelia and their friends got up to recently, hopefully the baby won’t be such a handful when they grow up.

“No mamán, we haven’t done anything, I... I need to speak with you about something, something I... discovered about myself.” Aalstair chooses his words carefully, trying not to fidget or let his nerves overtake him.

“Alright, what is it?” Sona asks, leaning back in her chair and folding her hands over her bump. Alastair gives Cordelia a brief glance and she smiles and slips her hand into his and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

Alastair holds tightly to Cordelia and takes a deep breath. He then looks straight at his mother, and calmly says

“I’m gay, I’m attracted to men, and I’ve been seeing someone, a man. Thomas Lightwood to be exact. We’ve been seeing eachother for a few months now and I wanted to finally tell you mamán, because it is a big part of me and my life.”

Sona leans forward in her chair and takes Alastair’s free hand in hers.

“Are you happy?” She calmly asks. Alastair wordlessly nods, not daring to get his hopes up. “And this Lightwood boy, does he make you happy, does he treat you well?”

“Yes.” Alastair says in a breathy tone. “I... I love him, mamán, he is the best thing that has ever happened to me, I have never been happier than I have been since I began seeing Thomas. He... he makes me feel so loved and important.”

Sona smiles warmly and brushes her son’s dark hair back from his face.

“Then if you are happy, I’m happy.” Alastair feels the tears of relief and joy well up in his eyes as his breath catches in his throat.

“R-really?” He stammers. Sona nods and brushes his tears away.

“Yes Eshgham, all I want for you, Cordelia and this baby, is for you to be happy and healthy. Nothing and no one matters more to me than you 3, and a little thing like the sex of the person you love, is not going to make a difference to how much I love you, Alastair.” Sona’s voice is soft and low, full of love but also firm, so Alastair knows how serious she is.

Alastair lets out a sob of relief and lets his head fall onto his mother’s shoulder, as her arms go around him, her hand running through his hair, while Cordelia rubs his back.

“I love you mamán.” Alastair sniffs. Sona presses a kiss to his forehead.

“I love you too Alastair joon, very much. I do want to meet this Thomas boy of course, to make sure he’s deserving of you, not just anyone is worthy of being loved by my son, you know.” Sona lightly says, as Alastair lifts his head and wipes at his tears. He laughs at the thought of tall, muscular Thomas being lectured by his small, heavily pregnant mother.

“He is James’ cousin, so I think you will like him very much.” Alastair laughs, knowing how much his mother adores James.

“Like who very much?” The sweet and happy moment is suddenly interrupted by a gruff voice from the doorway that makes the blood in Alastair’s veins run cold. He turns his head to see his father standing in the doorway, dressed smartly but with his hair greasy and ratty, months worth of stubble on his jaw, his eyes bloodshot with dark circles underneath them, and a poorly hidden bottle of whisky poking out of his coat pocket.

“Oh Elias, we weren’t expecting you back for another day or so.” Sona says in a somewhat surprised tone, pushing herself to her feet to greet her husband, going in for a kiss to the cheek but recoiling when she smells the alcohol on him.

Elias completely ignores his wife, focusing all of his attention on Alastair.

“Who and what were you talking about? It seems like you were in the middle of a rather serious moment.” He asks in a deadly calm voice.

“Papa not now, Alastair is tired.” Cordelia protests, wanting to do whatever she can to save her brother having to face their father unplanned like this.

“I was not speaking to you Cordelia, I was speaking to your brother. I will ask again, who and what were you talking about? If you told your mother, you need to tell me.” there is now anger and irritation seeping into Elias’ tone.

“I...” Alastair begins, not quiet sure where to go with this. “Um, well I...”

“Have you hit your head or are you honestly as dense as I always knew?” Elias spits out in acidic tone, horrifying everyone in the room. It’s not the first time he’s spoken so cruelly to Alastair, though he’s never done so in front of anyone else before.

“Papa!” Cordelia protests.

“Be quiet Cordelia. You, get on with it.” He growls, glaring at Alastair.

“I’m gay!” Alastair blurts, cringing at how abrupt and sudden it was.

Elias scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Don’t be ridiculous Alastair, you are far too young to know who you do and do not love, not that it is love, homosexuality is a disease, an illness of the mind.” He tells him in a dismissive tone. Alastair feels as though his heart may break in half. Nobody has ever said something so cruel to him before.

“No it is not, the love I feel for Thomas is just the same as any other type of love. He makes me happy and treats me well, I love him, it is one of the very few things in life I have ever been so certain of. I love him, father.” Alastair’s tone is tight as tears start to well up again, but there is also pride in his tone, and love at the thought of Thomas.

Before Alastair can comprehend anything else, his father is right in front of him, face to face, so close Alastair can smell the stench of alcohol on his breath.

“Elias let him go!” Sona yells, tugging at her husband’s arm, only to have him shake her off.

“No mamán don’t, you may get hurt, you or the baby.” Alastair tells her, holding his chin high and refusing to show his father any fear.

“Now you listen here boy.” Elias hisses. “No son of mine is going to be some disgusting fag, I will not have you taint the good family name of Carstairs. You are not irreplaceable, that child your mother carries could well be a boy, I could very easily replace you with him. And if you wish to have a place under my roof, you will shut your disgusting little mouth and never speak of this filth again!”

“Papa! Don’t speak to him like that, leave him alone!” Cordelia yells, trying to pull her father away, only for him to push her back, almost knocking her over.

Alastair has never been a violent man, despite his nasty attitude when he was younger, he would actually never harm a fly. However this time, Elias his gone too far. Alastair firmly places his hands on his father’s chest and with force, shoves him away so he is not in his face.

Alastair is about to respond, to tell Elias he’s free to replace him with the new baby, but Sona speaks up first.

“That is enough!” Her strong and firm tone rings clear through the room, stopping everyone and everything in their tracks.

“Elias Carstairs if you so much as ever lay a hand on my son again, I swear to the angel you will be sorry. You need to get off of your pedestal, you are not some all high and mighty holier than though member of society, you are a nasty, abusive man who refuses to get help for an addiction that has ruined everything. You ruined Alastair’s childhood with your alcoholism, I am not about to let you ruin the rest of his life with your homophobia.

I have put up with your nasty and abusive ways for the last 18 years, I have dealt with you calling me fat, lazy, useless, ugly, and many, many other things. I am done with it, no more. I took your abuse with the hope you would leave Cordelia and Alastair alone, and they could have nice normal lives. That is not how it works though, I know better now. I deserve better, my children deserve better.

I want a divorce, Elias, and I will be making sure you have no custody or involvement of this baby, as far as I am concerned this child is mine and mine alone, they have no father.”

There is a shocked silence throughout the room, following Sona’s pronouncement. Alastair feels guilty for feeling happy that his mother is leaving his father, and hopeful that he can escape him. He’s not meant to want his parents to split up, being the child of a divorced couple is shameful according to society. But why? Why is it shameful for Sona to escape her abuser, to give her baby a better chance at life and to take Cordelia and Alastair away from a toxic and abusive person?

The first to speak is Elias. He scoffs and sneers at his wife.

“Oh please, you need me Sona, you have nowhere to go and nothing without me.”

“I will go to The Institute, The Herondales will welcome me. I have plenty, Elias, I have savings you know nothing of, I have valuables I can sell should I need to, I have clothes for the baby, nappies are not hard to come by, I have everything I need, I most certainly do not need you.” Sona’s tone is impassive as she steadily holds Elias’ gaze. She then turns to her children, her gaze softening slightly.

“Alastair, Cordelia, you are of course welcome to come with me, wherever I find a home you will have a home, but if you wish to stay with your father then I will not be hurt or upset, and you will still be able to see your little brother or sister when they are born. The choice is yours.” Of course Sona wants her children to come with her, but she knows forcing them to if they do not want to, will not make her any better than Elias.

“I want to go with you mamán.” Cordelia immediately says, the love and respect she has always held for her father now shattered into pieces, never to be repaired.

“Me too, and I can help you with money mamán, now that I am old enough to receive earnings from The Clave.” Alastair says, leaning into his mother, who smiles and cups his cheek.

“Thank you Azizam, but you most certainly do not have to.” She then links her arm through with his and puts the other around Cordelia’s shoulders. “Come along, we can come back for our things later. For now I would like to meet your Thomas, Alastair. I am sure he’s a good boy if he’s related to James, but I need to be sure, as I said, not just anyone is deserving of my son’s heart.”

Alastair smiles brightly, his heart lifting and his pain easing at the thought of introducing his mother to Thomas, and having a peaceful and calm life at The Institute, where he will be free to love Thomas and be himself.

Meanwhile, in the Lightwood London townhouse, Thomas is nervously sitting in front of his parents in the drawing room, preparing to come out to them. He is sure they’ll be loving and accepting, they love and accept Anna, but maybe it will be different with their own child, especially their only son. Perhaps his father expects him to carry on the Lightwood name, what with Christopher having no interest in romance or anything of the sort, and little Alex only being 3.

“What’s going on Tommy? What do you need to talk to us about?” Sophie’s concerned voice pulls Thomas from his thoughts, and he lifts his head to look at his parents, sitting side by side, their hands entwined, both of them looking concerned.

“Uhh...” Thomas begins in an unsure tone. “Well... I’m... I’m gay.” Thomas blurts out, wanting it over and done with, holding his breath as he waits for his parents to react.

Immediately they both visibly relax, Gideon’s shoulders slumping in relief and Sophie placing a hand on her chest and letting out a sigh of relief.

“Oh love is that all?” Sophie asks with a hint of amusement in her tone. Baffled, Thomas nods.

“You gave us a fright Tom, we thought something was dreadfully wrong.” Gideon laughs, relieved beyond words that all is well with Thomas. He could not lose another child, Barbara’s death almost killed him, loosing Thomas or Eugenia would certainly be the end of him.

“We’ve always known that about you my darling, do you think we haven’t noticed you gawping at all the handsome men we pass on the street, or how you just loved hearing about your sisters' courting conquests and always asked for details on the men?” Sophie laughs, remembering 11 year old Thomas sitting with his sisters and listening intently as Barbara recounted her first outing with her first boyfriend.

“It... it doesn’t bother you?” Thomas asks in a hopeful tone. Could it really be this simple and easy? Could he be so lucky?

“Not one bit.” Sophie assures him.

“Just don’t steal Eugenia’s dresses if you want to wear women’s clothes, she loves you but she will not be pleased if you steal her dresses.” Gideon says in a light tone, earning a laugh from Thomas.

“I would not dare get between Genie and her dresses, though I have no desire to wear one myself, they seem rather uncomfortable.” He says.

“You do not know the half of it my love.” Sophie laughs, squeezing Thomas’ hand. “Is there anything else you wish to tell us? Remember, we’ll always love you and support you.”

Thomas bites his lip and takes a few seconds to think, before looking at his parents again.

“Well... actually, I am seeing someone. Alastair Carstairs to be exact.” Thomas nervously admits.

“Oh he is a lovely boy! Good to know your good sense continues through to the romantic aspect of your life.” Sophie grins, shocking Thomas.

“You like him? But mama he was the one who spread those nasty rumors about you a few years ago.” Thomas quietly says. He knows Alastair has changed and grown since then, but does his mother?

“He was a child, a scared child who was going through a lot of trauma, he made a mistake for which he is clearly very sorry. And besides I think it is quiet obvious that he at 16 did not just suddenly decide to spread rumors about strange adults who had nothing to do with him. I would not be surprised in the least if he was repeating what he heard from his father.” Sophie quietly says, trying not to let her anger escape. She is not angry with Alastair, but she is angry with Elias, who has said very unkind things about her before, some to her face and some behind her back.

Before Thomas can reply, there is a rap on the dinning room door and Scarlet- the Lightwood’s maid- steps in.

“Sorry to interrupt M’am, Sirs, there are guests here to see you, Mrs. Carstairs and her two children.” Scarlet quietly says. Thomas’ heart begins to race. Why is Alastair here? Is he alright?

“Oh, please do send them through Scarlet, thank you.” Sophie says, wondering why the Carstairs’ have turned up here. It’s not as if they are very close friends or anything of the sort.

A few seconds later Sona Carstairs steps into the drawing room, followed closely by Cordelia and Alastair.

“I am very sorry to intrude and interrupt, we can leave if we are inconveniencing you.” Sona says in an apologetic tone.

“No no nonsense, you are very welcome. Please, sit. Would you like something to drink or eat? Would you like to put your feet up, Sona?” Sophie kindly asks, remembering how easily her feet swelled up when she was pregnant all 3 times, by the time she was 7 months pregnant with Barbara she couldn’t fit into her shoes anymore and had to buy new ones specifically for pregnancy.

“Thank you, you are very kind but a simple seat will do, I get so tired so easily these days.” Sona says in a breathy tone, as Cordelia helps her sit in a nearby armchair.

Thomas and Alastair, meanwhile, share a delighted look at seeing one another. Thomas grins and quickly strides across the room and slips his hand into Alastair's.

“Mama, papa, this is Alastair, my boyfriend.” He proudly says, grinning at his parents.

Sophie immediately joins them and pulls Alastair into a hug, taking him by complete surprise.

“Don’t break his heart, alright?” Sophie softly says when she pulls back, placing a hand on Alastair’s cheek. Alastair smiles and nods.

“I promise, Mrs. Lightwood.”

Sophie smiles and squeezes his hand before stepping back to let Gideon talk to Alastair.

“Our Thomas is a sweet boy, with so much capacity to love. I’m sure you already know this but it is an honor to be loved by him in anyway. Never forget that, alright?” Alastair nods.

“Of course not Mr. Lightwood.” He assures him. Gideon smiles and holds his hand out for Alastair to shake.

“Good, and if you ever need some fatherly advice or a man to man talk, I am always here.” The offer almost makes Alastair tear up again.

“Thank you Mr. Lightwood, I very much appreciate that.”

“Now you just have to meet Genie, I think she will like you too.” Thomas lightly says, laying his head on Alastair’s shoulder. Alastair chuckles and puts an arm around his boyfriend.

“Well now it is my turn to introduce you to my family. You already know Layla, but you haven’t met my wonderful mother yet. Mamán this is Thomas, my boyfriend.”

With help from Cordelia Sona stands up from her chair and beams brightly at Thomas. She pulls him down for a hug and squeezes tightly.

“It is so lovely to meet the boy who has made my Alastair happy again. Treat him well.”

Over the next few months the Lightwoods and Carstairs grow very close. Gideon helps Sona begin proceedings for her divorce and also helps her make a case against Elias having any custody of the baby. They have plenty of evidence of him being an unfit parent and a danger to the baby, so it only takes a matter of weeks for it be agreed upon by The Silent Brothers and The Clave that Elias has no legal rights to the baby and will not be allowed around them at all.

Sophie helps Sona through the rest of her difficult pregnancy, having had a hard pregnancy herself, with Thomas.

Thomas and Alastair grow closer and fall even more in love, and Cordelia finds a new friend in Eugenia.

2 months later on a rainy February day, Cordelia, Alastair, Thomas and Eugenia are all nervously waiting outside the Institute infirmary, waiting for word on Sona who went into labor in the early hours of the morning. Brother Zachariah came right away, and has been doing a wonderful job of helping Sona through her labor while also keeping everyone else updated.

8 hours after Sona went into labor, the silence of the infirmary waiting room is interrupted by the squeaking of the infirmary door opening.

The 4 teenagers turn to look at the doorway, where Brother Zachariah now stands, his hood drawn back and his hands folded neatly in front of him.

“Uncle Jem.” Cordelia leans forward, eager to hear what he has to say. “Is mama alright, and the baby?”

Yes everything is absolutely fine Cordelia. In fact, you have a healthy baby brother, congratulations.

Cordelia gasps and shrieks in delight, turning to hug Alastair tightly.

“A boy! It’s a boy Al, we have a baby brother!” She gleefully exclaims. Alastair laughs in delight and holds his sister tight, picking her up and spinning her around twice, unable to contain his utter glee and delight. His mother is alright, his baby brother is alright, everything is alright.

“Two against one! You are done for, Layla!” Alastair teases, setting his sister down and affectionately tugging at a lock of her hair. Cordelia laughs and playfully swats him on the arm.

“Not a chance! I’m going to go hold him first!” she quickly turns on her heel and hurries into the infirmary after Jem.

“I always wanted a little brother, I’m quiet envious!” Thomas lightly says, slipping an arm around Alastair’s waist. “I am very happy for you.” Alastair beams at his boyfriend and kisses him.

“I love you.”

"I love you too."

#thomas lightwood #alastair carstairs #Cordelia Carstairs #sona carstairs #elias carstairs #gideon lightwood #sophie collins #sophie lightwood #anna lightwood #james herondale #will herondale #william herondale #tessa gray #tessa herondale #christopher lightwood #alexander lightwood #the silent brothers #Brother Zachariah #jem carstairs #james carstairs #charles fairchild #eugenia lightwood #barbara lightwood #thomas x alastair #alastair x charles #SophiexGideon #the infernal devices #the last hours #the shadowhunter chronicles #tsc

[deadlifts-and-derrida]

Well, it's been a while since I posted any long form writing here. So how about I do that now? Let's get UNCOMFORTABLY CLOSE.

To tell the story of my first boyfriend, I need to tell the story of coming out to my mother.

I came out to my mother the week before I left to begin university. It didn't go as I hoped it would. I chose mom instead of dad because I thought mom would be easier. Girls and women seemed safer than boys and men. To teenaged me, active homophobia seemed mostly a masculine trait.

I'll stop there. I don't want to set mom up like she had the worst reaction. She didn't get mad. Mad, I could have handled. I was a bold, righteous, outspoken teen; I was equipped to deal with anger. Mom wasn't mad - mom was sad. As if a precious object had dropped to the floor and was now damaged - even if it could be repaired, the crack would always be there.

I couldn't handle sad. It was like I told her I had an inoperable cancer. That's a homophobic attitude just as much as throwing your kid out is, but it's… subtler. How do you respond to it? If you get angry she'll just get sadder. Her sadness hurts you to witness. You wish you hadn't spoken up, because you love your mother and you don't want to make her sad. You regret ever opening your mouth. By you I mean I.

I left for university a week later having had no follow-up discussion, having stuffed myself back into the closet, more or less. When I got to university I would be free to be as gay as I wanted, and I intended to be very. Very. Very. Gay.

Why do I need to tell this story before I get to Matthew? (His name was Matthew). Well. I guess I'm trying to explain why I was the way I was, and I'm hanging the blame on Mom. It's not really fair. Her reaction was bad, and it hurt me, it didn't give me the support I needed at a critical moment. But all of it - her reaction, the fact that I needed the support in the first place - is because of our damned stupid homophobic society, right? Mom and me, we're both just products of the hate machine that spat us out, right? Right?

I love my mother. I forgive her. She danced joyfully at my wedding. It's all fine. Everything is fine. The precious thing got repaired so well you can only really see the crack if you know where to look.

So Matthew.

I spent all of highschool wanting a boyfriend and sex. Unrequited crushes on unattainable men. But the fear. That was real, too. Not just fear that if you got caught checking out the wrong guy he'd gaybash you - although that was a real, potent fear. But also the fear that if you got caught checking out the right guy, then you'd have to go through with it.

Isn't that crazy? Being afraid to go through with the thing you want to go through with! But it's true. Actually attainable men? No. There was one other gay guy in my high school class, and we shared a friend group, although the two of us never really clicked. I was too weird and he was, for want of a better word, too basic. I was also very unfortunate-looking in high school. But in addition to all of this - there was the sense that I couldn't be attracted to him because if I was then something would have to happen and I wasn't ready for that.

But I wanted to be ready for it!

So Matthew, again.

When I got to university, free from my mother's terrible sadness, free from my high school self, I wanted to shed my skin like a snake and slither my way into a new me. Now that I was out and lived in a city (a small city, but the biggest one we had), I really femmed up. Glitter. Tight clothes. Limp wrists. Hair dye. Even eyeliner, sometimes. I wanted the world to know. In part because I was signalling to whoever around me who had the correct receptors: I'm here, I'm queer, for the love of god please do something about it.

Matthew picked up on that signal. He was a (female) friend's best friend. He was in his last year of high school in a town about 90 minutes away, but he made trips in on some weekends to see his best friend. One of those weekends, only a couple of weeks into my very first semester, he and I fell into each other's gravity. Nowadays, I know the sensation well. I'm sure most people will, too. You feel this tug between you and someone else. You draw closer. You look at each other. Closer. A few touches, at first passing it off as innocent. Then more touches. Closer.

We were so close our lips were brushing each other's as we spoke quietly. I don't remember how long the lip brushing lasted before it became kissing, but despite everything, despite the utter hell Matthew would eventually unleash on my life, I still think this is probably one of the best first-ever kisses on record.

(It wasn't his first-ever kiss. He already had an ex-boyfriend. I was his second. But it was my first-ever kiss).

Matthew wasn't my type. He had a shrill, harsh laugh. He had a giant mop of curly hair that he liked to dye. It was kind of like a clown's wig. I was still unfortunate-looking myself, please understand. He wasn't active, didn't exercise - which is fine, except all of my sexual fantasies focused on very muscular, large men. "Being young, gay, and mean isn't a personality," as the line goes. Matthew had a bit of that. But he was smart and funny, too. I shouldn't pretend he wasn't.

But I was so ready. Over-ready. I needed someone to fuck me, already, and I figured I would be lucky if anyone, anyone at all, would ever be willing to do it. So. It was Matthew because he was the first one who stepped up to the plate. Although attempts at sex were always awkward and we never really quite figured that out.

He became my boyfriend. It lasted for about four months. Because he lived 90 minutes away and was still in high school, I only saw him on weekends, but not every weekend. Maybe one weekend a month. This was 2001. Smartphones weren't a thing. Texting wasn't even really a thing. I wouldn't even own a cellphone until 2005. We messaged each other on ICQ and spoke on our landlines.

He broke up with me in January.

Did I love him? I don't know. I think I did. Or I loved the idea of him. I loved the icon I had built in his shape, a representative of all the things I wanted to achieve by Having A Boyfriend. I wanted it to affirm my sexuality. I wanted it to mean I wasn't unlovable. I wanted it to refute my mother's sadness.

It felt like a failure that I couldn't keep him. When he got a new boyfriend before I did, that felt like a failure too, like it had been a race to see who could land a new man first. Why was I thinking this way? Looking back, it's awful. I instrumentalized him, made him a symbol, and made relationships and sexual experimentation into some kind of… clout game. It wasn't about having fun and enjoying myself - it was about proving something, something to myself, something to my family, something to the world. Sex? A boyfriend? Things to acquire.

But maybe I did love him. I cried a lot, and it wasn't just over the insult to my ego and the setback to my plans. I remember distinctly walking through the underground tunnels that joined buildings on campus, thinking to myself - well, we're still friends, maybe we'll get back together in a few years. It was a story I told myself to comfort myself. It wasn't a forever breakup - he'd come back to me in a few years if I was just patient and kind, if I just waited.

When he got a new boyfriend, I needed to get one too. I found a guy on the gay.com chatroom, which is the closest thing we had to apps back then. He… had problems. Valentines was a couple of days after our first date and he got me an ostentatious bouquet of roses, an over-the-top gift that made me more uncomfortable than charmed. He already showered me with the l-word.  I remember waking up in his bed, the one night I spent at his place, him slipping his dick into me. It's this hazy nocturnal memory and I'm not even sure if it's real or false. If it's real, it was my first time successfully bottoming. If it was real, he didn't use a condom.

A few days later he told me that if I ever left him he'd kill himself. I didn't know what to do. I just turned very cold, hoping he'd break up with me. It worked. He dumped me after another few days. The whole thing didn't last more than two weeks.

Matthew was still with his new boyfriend and they seemed very happy together.

So. It's clear I reacted badly.

Around the time we broke up, I moved into a basement apartment with his best friend (remember, she was also a friend of mine) and a third party who was also a good friend. Our apartment was a bit of a party house. Matthew would come into the city on weekends, and he'd stay at our apartment - because his best friend lived there, and I lived there too, and even though we had broken up we were still friends, right?

I don't know what I did to deserve what he did to me. I don't think I was ever malicious to him. If I was ever cruel, it was a clueless and unintentional kind of cruelty.

He was staying with us. I was out of the house. He went into my bedroom and went on my computer. He snooped around and found folders of niche porn that I enjoyed. Should I say what sort it was? Is it pertinent to the story? It wasn't all that weird. It was basically bodybuilders. Muscle men. Some of them photoshopped to be bigger than would otherwise be possible (some much bigger). Some of them with exaggerated genitalia (some of them very exaggerated). I also had an interest in fat guys and I know there were some pictures of that nature in there too (some of them very fat).

But he was 17 and mean and judgemental. He showed my friends my secret porn in a deliberate attempt to humiliate me. He shared it around. He let everyone know, in a cruel, mocking way, about sexual interests I didn't yet feel strong enough to share with the world. Sexual interests I still felt a lot of shame about.

I only learned about this because my other friend who shared that apartment took me aside and told me what he had done. She did this because she thought it was wrong of him.

Despite this show of support from a friend who had the good sense not to follow the current of cruel mockery, I was beyond mortified. The shame was galling.

My new gay life ended there. My clothes became drab, baggier. My manner less femme. I stopped transmitting "I'm gay!" to the world. I stopped trying to fit in with the gay crowd Matthew had introduced me to. They all had a name for me now, anyway. Psychael. Like, psychotic Michael. How could I fight a battle when the first strike was nuclear? I quit. It seemed like the only move available to me.

It was 5 years before I'd kiss another man. I fled back into the embrace of my family. My coming out was never mentioned. I basically went back into the closet. At least the people in there loved… some version of me that I could maintain without that much effort. Just… close the door on the seven months when I had been an out gay man and pretend the whole thing didn't happen. Easy.

I don't hate him.

We were both very young.

We were both inexperienced.

I would hate for someone who only knew me as an 18 year old to think of me now, in my mid thirties, as if I was the same person. So I don't think of him as he was when he was 17. He's 34 now. He's probably a much better person.

Maybe he feels sorry.

Maybe he doesn't.

I wish I could have those years back. The long years I spent frightened to be myself.

I wish I had been strong enough to look him in the face and say "so what?" I wish I had been strong enough to own my sexual interests, none of which are immoral or wrong or even all that strange.

But I was weak. I was weak and alone. And wishing doesn't get you anywhere.

I don't know if there's much point to this story.

#me

[the-sapphire-general]

My Thoughts and Feelings About Sephiroth

Hello guys! Now I don't usually make discussions or rants, but this is Tumblr. I can express my opinions. As you can see, this post will be about Sephiroth. Sephiroth, the One-Winged Angel from Final Fantasy 7, the FF game that pretty much made the franchise’s popularity skyrocket in the first place back in 1997. I love FF7, and like a lot of fans, I love Sephiroth, the main villain, and possibly the best video game villain I'll ever love (with Final Fantasy 15's Ardyn being second). Allow me to include a picture of the man himself.

What do you think? Does he look badass? Sexy? Cruel? Insane? Yeah, he's all of those things. However, it has come to my attention that Sephiroth is loved by his appearance more than everything else about him. I don’t know how many people do, but I am told it’s a lot. Yes, I know this doesn't seem like a big deal, but really. Is Sephiroth just simple eye candy? Here's my answer. No. He is eye candy, yes, I can't deny it. He has a perfect, muscular physique and is incredibly alluring in appearance and he also has a deep voice that makes me swoon (I'm not kidding lol). But Sephiroth isn't just a walking sex god with great abs and muscles. A friend of mine, which I will not name out of respect and privacy, told me about this, and to be honest, it's sad. What about his backstory? His personality, both before and after he went insane?? What about his fighting abilities? His intelligence? There’s more than just his appearance.

Sephiroth is a complex character who was once a good guy only to be driven to insanity once he discovered his origins all because of everyone lying to him about everything. I may not be a longtime Sephiroth fan for I am technically a late bloomer that was introduced to him (and FF7) about two years ago, but I love Sephiroth for more than just his looks. I admit I fell in love right when I first saw him since I'm prone to love at first sight, but my focus on just his looks lasted only about a week when I checked out Crisis Core: Final Fantasy 7, the prequel to FF7. I did love Sephiroth for his appearance, but in time I actually got to know him as a person. In CC, Sephiroth was once a good person who grew up never knowing who his parents were (only knowing that his mother's name was Jenova), and was raised as a weapon without his knowledge. He was cold and distant, he was not one to express his emotions much, and he had only a few close friends, and guess what? I was able to relate to him. As I went through CC online (I don't own a PSP so I didn't get to play the game), I was able to see myself in Sephiroth before he became the villain we all know and love. He lost the only friends he had when they simply abandoned him and he didn't know why. It made me feel for him because I could sense how it bothered him. I mean, he didn't want to kill them when he was ordered to find them. Wouldn't you feel the same with your own friends if you were told you have to go after them? I also sympathized with him because people saw Sephiroth as just a cold man who kept his distance from others and this caused them to feel intimidated by him, but in reality, they didn't know the real Sephiroth. They didn't look past his appearance. Who knows how their opinions may have hurt him? Assuming things about others can hurt, you know. As the game progressed, his looks, the reason why I even checked him out in the first place, was no longer the main reason why I love him. I fell in love with his personality as I got to know him, and of course, this includes the truth about his past.

Sephiroth discovered his origins in a place called Nibelheim. One of Sephiroth's former friends, Genesis Rhapsodos, made him question himself when he and Zack Fair went to the mako reactor for a mission and found monsters in capsules. Finding out that he may be a monster isn't something a person can handle without feeling overwhelmed. Sephiroth, knowing that he was always different from everyone else, was in doubt about what Genesis said to him. That he was a monster. However, Sephiroth went to the ShinRa mansion's library in order to see for himself. And of course, after a week of endless investigation without sleeping or possibly eating, Sephiroth snapped. He lost it. Discovering that he was an experiment meant to serve ShinRa and manipulated all his life, out of pure hate and rage, Sephiroth burned Nibelheim, killing almost everyone in the village in cold blood.

Remember when I said he knew his mother's name was Jenova? Well, that's not true. His real mother is Lucrecia Crescent. His father is Professor Hojo. Jenova is an alien, or "the calamity from the skies" that arrived to the planet millennia ago and murdered the Cetra, beings who could communicate with the planet. But because Sephiroth has gone insane, he believes Jenova is his mother since Hojo injected her DNA into Lucrecia while she was pregnant with Sephiroth. However he thought he was a Cetra at the time. He later realized Jenova is “the calamity from the skies”, but that didn’t make much of a difference in his already unstable beliefs. Whether or not Jenova really is Sephiroth's mother considering they have a striking resemblance that even I can't deny anymore, I don't know. Maybe? But Lucrecia did give birth to him, so she is his biological mother. Back to the Nibelheim Incident. Sephiroth, believing that the humans stole the planet from Jenova, declared himself the chosen one to rule the planet. 

Zack failed to stop Sephiroth, so Cloud Strife, who was one of the infantrymen that followed them to Nibelheim, defeated Sephiroth by throwing him to his death. But that didn't stop there. Sephiroth revived himself in Final Fantasy 7, now wanting to destroy the planet after realizing Jenova isn’t a Cetra and that he gained a lot of knowledge when he was in the lifestream...He basically became more cruel, insane, and just evil. He summoned Meteor to wound the planet in order to absorb the lifestream and become god of the planet, and have everyone “become a part of him”. Of course, he was defeated again by Cloud. In the movie Advent Children, he sent his remnants, three men that represented parts of him, to reclaim Jenova's head. His goal was to return to life, destroy the planet, and use it to travel through the cosmos and find other planets to destroy. Kind of like Jenova tried to do. Cloud defeated him again, and although the Compilation of Final Fantasy 7 hasn't continued since Dirge of Cerberus and Sephiroth himself didn't show up in the game (other than in an image of the Nibelheim Incident), it's certain that Sephiroth is determined to return and won't stop until he gets what he wants: the planet and the destruction of humanity. I apologize if I summarized some parts. Final Fantasy 7 is a massive game, and so are the other installments in the Compilation, so it’s a lot to cover. But I think I got everything in here.

Wow, that was a lot to type, but it's worth adding it to make my point. Sephiroth is more than just a sexy man, and unfortunately people overlook everything else about him. He's cruel, cold, calculating, distant, intelligent, cunning, arrogant, murderous, and vengeful. He used to be good but lost the only friends he had and everything he ever knew turned out to be nothing but a life of betrayal and lies. He discovered his origins and lost his mind and now wants to destroy everything. Seeing him as only an attractive man means that nothing else about him matters. That’s just shallow thinking if you like someone for only one thing. Outward appearances is fine to notice, but what about what’s underneath???

How do I see Sephiroth? Well he's attractive, yes, but he's not just that. Sephiroth's backstory got to me because he's a lot like me. Distant, quiet, intelligent, had a few friends, wasn't social, and that he was betrayed by those he trusted. It was like looking at a mirror, and I don't have to be an experiment, have others deceive me my whole life, or become insane just to identify with him. I don't have to try to rule the planet just to identify with him. I don't have to be cruel just to identify with him. Sephiroth and I may be vastly different, but that doesn't mean we don't have similarities. We do, and even some of the similarities we have can be different. I was betrayed by a few people while Sephiroth was betrayed by everyone he knew, for example. He descended into madness, and I was furious beyond how angry I usually get but I had people who care about me that stopped my anger from taking over. Despite that, in a way I developed a dark side towards certain people, but at least mine is less of a danger than Sephiroth's.

I love Sephiroth for both his appearance and personality. I also love how badass he can be alongside his sexy physique, and I am attracted to both his voice and intelligence. So I like a lot of things about him that aren't just related to his looks. Speaking of his personality, I find it annoying whenever I find Sephiroth acting out-of-character in some stuff. Now I'm not saying that whatever things that people write for him are automatically OOC such as him liking lemon drops or pears. I mean, besides what we know about him, Sephiroth is pretty much a blank slate in some aspects. That's what headcanons are for, to make our own portrayals of Sephiroth. I’ve seen several of them and they are pretty good. In fact, some people may find my Sephiroth a little OOC, but it doesn't matter. I do try to keep him in-character, but again, some aspects about him are unclear such as what he likes to eat or do during his free time (besides destroying and killing and fighting Cloud or anyone else lol), so it's my job to add to it. But that doesn't mean that everything I can include in him is okay. Making Sephiroth into a rapist is OOC to me. Making him act sexist, racist, or homophobic is OOC to me (unless he learns that it's wrong if this is Crisis Core Sephiroth; I grew up thinking that being homosexual is bad, for example, but I learned better). And making him hypersexual 24/7 is OOC to me. Yes, I have noticed these three examples, plus Sephirothslave's horrible portrayal of Sephiroth in her "stories". She's old news, however, so I will not discuss any of that.

Now it is said Sephiroth is seen as just a sexual being by others. As much as I enjoy making him sexual and love checking out sexy Sephiroth stuff, that isn't his entire character. I personally believe he would be sexual to someone who understands, supports, and loves him for who he is and not just for his appearance. Many people don't see him as being sexual at all, which is fine. I'm not attacking those who portray Sephiroth differently. I'm just saying that there's more to Sephiroth than just being sexy. He should be treated as a character, not a sex toy. It's an insult to Sephiroth and the fans who see everything that's behind his appearance, and even he wouldn't like this kind of attention. Then again, he wouldn't like a lot of things, but that's not the point. The point is don't judge a book by its cover. Sephiroth may be sexy, but when you look past appearance, you can see what he's like, and it’s clear he's not sexual in personality.

I now realize the sexual thing may be one of the reasons why I don’t do shippings on my Sephiroth blog. Yes, I don’t like him with anyone else since I get jealous. It’s silly, but hey, that’s one of my reasons. It doesn’t mean I hate the characters he’s with, I just don’t pair him up with anyone. I don’t want to do shippings because I could wind up having to act out sexual fantasies way more than RPs that actually have plot and character development. Doing that sort of thing could get tiresome. Sexy RPs every once in a while would be fine, but again, I’m not going to add shippings because I get jealous, I’m not interested in porn without plot 24/7, and I don’t want to be forced into going out of my comfort zone just to satisfy others. I’m not breaking my own blog’s rules. Also, I’m not confident in adding Sephiroth in romance yet, so I’m still practicing on my own regarding romance with a character of mine. I’m not saying I’ll include shippings eventually, but I don’t mind if others pair him up with anyone they like. I’m just not one of those people who ship him with Cloud, Vincent, Zack, Tifa, etc., but I’ll respect those who do. Just don’t shove them down my throat, please. If, and I mean IF I were to ever include pairings on my Sephiroth blog, I’ll let you know.

So that’s all for this rant. Sephiroth is a character that I love a lot. Opposites attract! I do hope others start seeing the full picture because he’s a compelling character to me. All the FF7 characters are (except Hojo, fuck him), though Sephiroth is my favorite one of all. I may love Ardyn as well, but Sephiroth can’t be dethroned from my heart.

#sephiroth #just a random discussion/rant #final fantasy 7

[pancake-howlter]

All This Time - Chapter 1

AO3 link

genre: fluff and angst, friends to lovers

warnings: little homophobia

Knock Knock. Dab Howlter tapped on the window, brushing his wild, jet black hair away from his face. He had climbed up the big oak tree outside the Pancake's residence, and was now out on the balcony, waiting by the glass doors. He could see his best friend getting out of bed, rubbing his eyes and putting on the glasses that lay on his bedside table. Once he saw Dab, however, Evan rushed to the balcony door, unlocking it from the inside and ushering Dab through. "Hey Cutie." Dab smiled cheekily once the door was shut behind him. Evan blushed, as he did every time Dab called him by a pet name. "You shouldn't be out here. It's passed midnight and freezing outside - you're still in your pijamas!" "Couldn't sleep, I was bored, and you weren't answering your phone." Dab complained, albeit cheerfully. He then crossed the room and flung himself onto the expensive single bed. "Now come lay down with me." He demanded. Rolling his eyes, Evan followed Dab, getting under the covers as Dab did so as well. After removing Evan's glasses for him, Dab cuddled up to him, his wild hair tickling the boy. "Do you remember when your mum cut it short for you?" Evan chuckled, starting to play with Dab's hair. "It grew back in less than a week. Have you even cut it since?" "Don't think so." Dab replied, closing his eyes. His arms wrapped around Evan's waist, hands sliding under his shirt slightly. "Christ, Dab, your hands are cold!" "Warm them up for me, then." Dab murmured sleepily. Evan curled into Dab's body, sighing softly at Dan's welcome embrace. "Tomorrow, should we do something?" Evan asked, not ready to drift off just yet. "Like what?" "We could look for frogs in the park again, or go swimming in your back garden. Or, you could play with my science set." Evan suggested. A fond memory made Dab chuckle; the last time they used the science set, Dab was having so much fun mixing chemicals that he definitely wasn't listening to his friends probably essential advice that they had almost burnt the house down. Of course, Evan's parents were pretty well-off so they didn't have much trouble with replacing it, but Bob was still infuriated. "I'm not sure me and chemicals mix so well." Dab admitted. Evan giggled, remembering that too. "Let's just hang out. Anything, as long as we're together." "Yeah." Evan piped down for a while. There was still more to say - there always would be - but there was something in particular on his mind. Something he needed to tell Dab. Something he'd known for a very long time. Something his best friend should have known for a very long time. Maybe now was the best time for it? "Dab?" Evan whispered. Dab hummed in reply. "I need to tell you something." Silence prompted him. "I'm gay." Evan waited, but Dab didn't respond. "I'm gay, Dab," he repeated. When, again, there was no reply, Evan looked at Dab properly, now noticing the way his eyes were fully closed, his mouth slightly open and his brows relaxed. "And I think I'm in love with you." He said quietly, looking back up at the ceiling. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise. That morning Dab woke up to Eliza Pancakes turning the light on and the rain outside pattering against the patio. She smiled at the sleeping Evan cuddled up with him, and Dab grinned back sheepishly. "When?" she mouthed, and Dab shrugged. He was about to mouth "not yet" back to her, but the large frame of Bob Pancakes blocked the light in the doorway. "What's he doing here? Did you let him in?" Evan's father asked Eliza. "No, Dear, but there's no point in keeping them away from each other, it's cruel." Eliza replied, ushering him into their own bedroom. Dab got out of bed, making Evan stir slightly at the sudden rush of coldness, and stood by the half-closed door. "You know I don't like that faggot coming over, he'll turn our son!" Bob's voice drifted in far too loud. "Bob, you cannot just say things like that! I do not appreciate you being such a homophobe, and I have a good mind to kick you out of the house." was Eliza's reply. "This house is mine, I pay for it with my money since you are simply a housewife and a mother. If you want to keep this house, you'll need a job. So yeah, divorce me all you want, I'm still your only income." Dab shut the door. Loudly. Evan was crying, curled up into a little ball under the covers. As soon as he noticed, Dab rushed over to his best friend. "Don't cry, Ev. It's okay. Your parents might even get a divorce soon, weren't you listening? No more fighting after that." His arms found their way around Evan again, hugging him tightly to let him know he was safe. The rain picked up, getting louder and louder until going quiet again, but Evan was still crying. "Hey, Love, let's go to my place? My mum'll be making breakfast round about now, and it's just down the road so we wont get too wet." Dab suggested, and Evan nodded. "All right then, d'you wanna get dressed first?" Evan shook his head. "Fair enough, mi casa su casa. We don't care for decency. Come on, Sweetie." Helping Evan out of his bed, Dab quickly jammed his bunny slippers onto his feet and threw Evan his plimsolls. Together, they crept down the stairs, trying not to be caught to avoid questions like where they were going, and why they were in their pyjamas. It was best that way. As they opened the front door, Dab cursed himself for forgetting about the rain. Despite it being morning, the day was dark with grey clouds and harsh raindrops- it seemed even worse than it was compared to looking through the window. He then had an idea, and a cheeky grin spread across his face. "Let's run for it." He suggested, a glint in his eyes as he watched for Evan's reaction -  who was finding that Dab's excitement was infectious. He nodded, very nearly smiling too, and Dab grabbed his hand, closing the front door behind them. From under the limited shelter of the front porch, Evan braced himself and Dab pulled him out and into the rain. Evan screeched in a mix of shock and delight, all problems gone as long as Dab was guiding him through the murky, soggy street. The two reached the Howlter residence easily, since it was only a short distance away, and both took a second to catch their breath once getting inside. Neither really minded that they were soaking wet and shivering on the carpet - not as long as Dab's hand was in Evan's. "Dab? Is that you?" The voice of Tabitha Caspar approached them from outside. "Yeah it's me, plus Evan." Dab called back in reply. His mother entered the house from the back door, her pregnant bump entering before her, and Dab frowned in confusion. "Mum, why were you outside in this weather?" "Why did you leave the house at roughly two a.m.?" She shot back. Dab rolled his eyes. "Okay you win. Now can we have breakfast?" Evan was trying not to laugh at the familial exchange going on between mother and son. Tabitha was clearly exasperated, but amused enough to let it slide. And Dab's charm? Unbeatable. Dab... Dab was a quirky boy. A good stereotype of an artist, especially since he aspired to be one; he was creative, charismatic, carefree. Then again he was also soft, sweet and silly. The house he lived in felt like a perfect representation of all that. The living room, kitchen and study were all combined in one big room, since the Howlters preferred open living. There were three other rooms; the bathroom, the master bedroom, and Dab's room. "I'm making pancakes, you two can go and play in Dab's room and I'll call you when they're ready. Have fun!" Tabitha told them. Evan used to try and call her 'Mrs Howlter', but soon gave up after she downright refused to respond to such formalities. He never even bothered to try and call Dab's dad 'Mr Howlter' - it was clear from the very beginning that it would never work. "Come on, Ev." Dab pulled him along once again, noticing Evan's blush upon their linked hands as well as the not-very-secretive wink his mother passed on to them. Sticking his tongue out, Dab left the watchful eyes of his mother and ushered Evan into his own room, closing the door behind them. Evan grew silent again. "Hey, what's wrong? You still worried about your parents?" Evan shook his head, feeling more and more like a child as he did so. "Something else on your mind?" He didn't want to reply, but it would be babyish not to. "Yeah, I guess so." Evan replied vaguely. "So? What's up?" When there was no reply, Dab said, "If you really don't want to say, I wont force you or anything, I just want you to know that I'll always be here for you, no matter what." That made Evan think. Wasn't that mostly what he was worried about? Dab staying by his side was always the most important thing. He was his best and only friend and losing that would be the end of the world for Evan - but Dab had never failed a promise. "D'you promise you wont hate me? Or ignore me?" Dab looked seriously at him. "I swear it on my life. I will always, always love you." This choice of words made Evan's heart skip a beat. Deciding it was the best thing to do, Evan closed his eyes and started talking. "Um, the thing is, I'm gay, and uh, I'm gay for you." His eyes stayed closed. "Ev, Sweetie, open your eyes." Dab said softly. Evan did so with great reluctance. "I feel the same way! I love you, and not just as a friend. It's always been like that; you've never had to worry about it." Throughout all of this, Evan's eyes grew impossibly wider behind his glasses. "Y-you mean that? You really mean that?" Dab nodded. "Yup! Do you think, maybe, you'd like to be my boyfriend?" It was the first time Evan had seen Dab nervous. He was shifting around on his feet and biting his lip and it was so damn cute. Evan nodded. Dab broke into huge smile, teeth and all. "Can I kiss you?" he asked, and Evan didn't hesitate to nod again.

#Dan and Phil #dab x evan #devan fics #Devan #dab howlter #evan pancakes #gay fics

[nycttophilic]

Grelle Sutcliff

=BASIC INFO= FULL NAME: Grelle Sutcliff  NICKNAME(S)/ALIAS(ES): Red Reaper PRONUNCIATION(S): Gr-elle AGE: over a century old looks to be in mid twenties GENDER: Trans woman  SPECIES: grim reaper BIRTH DATE: May 30th SEXUALITY: Pansexual =PERSONALITY= PERSONALITY: Teasing, flirty, trouble making, twisted, bloodthirsty, depressed EMBODYING QUALITY/IDEA: A god of death, one for a lust for blood and a knack for causing trouble.  LIKES: Blood, red, drawing, fashion, sewing, singing, makeup, shopping, fighting, her chainsaw, love, romance DISLIKES: Paperwork, uniforms, rules, boring people, weak people, getting in trouble (caught breaking rules more like), getting told “no”, overtime, her work as a reaper, being a man, people who call her a male, transphobic and homophobic people FEARS: Never finding love WEAKNESSES: She has too much of a heart—or at least, she’s too quick to jump into love. She also just does whatever the hell she wants to do.  STRENGTHS: is really tough and stubborn with her beliefs, is open to new ideas an experiences, is supportive of anyone and everyone’s sexuality and preferred pronouns despite living in an era where that’s unheard of SPECIAL/SIGNIFICANT BELONGINGS: Grelle adores her custom made death scythe, a red chainsaw. She also commonly wears red, and will most likely be donning the coat of her late mistress, Madam Red. =PHYSICAL AND HEALTH INFO= HEIGHT:  5′9 WEIGHT: 146 BODY TYPE: Slim body with toned muscles hidden under her clothes. She’s quite strong and muscular, just doesn’t seem that way.  JEWELRY: Earrings, necklaces, bracelets, whatever she can find or buy in her spare time. She loves to look beautiful.  PIERCINGS/TATTOOS: She doesn’t really have piercings, or for long at least. There have been a few times where she pierces her ears, nose, lips, and other areas over time. However, if she leaves the hole open with no ring, it will fill up in a day due to her being a reaper.  SCARS/DISTINGUISHING MARKS: She has various scars along her body due to cuts with her own death scythe when she was training with it. She also has lots of freckles on her cheeks and nose, as well as shoulders, but she covers the ones on her face with makeup and the ones on her shoulders with clothes.  =RELATIONSHIP INFO= RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Verse dependent  PARENTS: Élisa Sutcliff (mother, deceased), Maurice Sutcliff (father, deceased) SIBLING(S):  Christine (eldest sister), Sophia (second oldest sister), Rose (third oldest sister) – BEST FRIEND(S): Ronald Knox, Madam Red, verse dependent FRIENDS: William T. Spears (?), verse dependent ACQUAINTANCES: Ciel Phantomhive, Sebastian Michaelis, Undertaker, the Midford family, verse dependent ASSISTANTS: Verse dependent GUARDS: N/A ALLIES: Verse dependent  PETS/SPECIAL ANIMALS: Verse dependent – ENEMIES: Ciel Phantomhive, Sebastian Michaelis, Undertaker, herself, her parents, verse dependent MAIN ENEMY(IES): Sebastian Michaelis, verse dependent MOST HATED: her parents, verse dependent =STORY INFO= STORIES THAT THIS CHARACTER APPEARS IN: Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji STATUS: Alive (well…dead, but alive) BACKSTORY: Grelle was born in late 18th century France, way out in the country. Her family lived on a farm, and she was the youngest out of four children and the only boy. As being the only son, she was forced to do all of the hard and draining chores. Her parents didn’t care about her in the slightest and only thought of her as someone to take care of the farm, not as their own child. Her sisters loved her though, and they would play dress up with her and play fun games that most little boys would cringe and complain about. But Grelle (or just Grell at the time) loved it. However, when she grew older, she found that she just didn’t feel…right in her own body. And to make matters worse, she seemed to have developed feelings for some of the boys in the nearby town. Way back then, homosexuality was a crime punishable by death, and being trans was just unheard of. So, Grelle had to keep it a secret from everyone. When her family finally found out, she was kicked out and told to go die somewhere. She stole some of her parents’ money and used it to go to London, as the English always fascinated her and her sisters had begun to teach her how to speak the language. There, she became a murderer and killed happy women who were in a happy relationship, something Grelle would never have. When she was almost caught, she hung herself in the hopes that she will be reborn as a woman. But that never happened. She awoke as a grim reaper, still in her male body, and has been trapped like this ever since. – PLACE OF BIRTH: France PAST LIVING QUARTERS: France, London, Madam Red’s Manor CURRENT AND FUTURE HOMES: Reaper world – NATIVE LANGUAGE(S): French LANGUAGES SPOKEN: French, English, German, some Russian, some Japanese. =TALENTS/OCCUPATION/EDUCATION= OCCUPATION/JOB: Grim Reaper BOSS: Reaper Council TALENTS: An excellent student back in her academy days, and an excellent fighter. She would be a great reaper if she would just do as told. YEARS OF EDUCATION: No formal education, was in the Reaper academy as a grim reaper for eight years LEVEL OF EDUCATION: Graduated the reaper academy =COMBAT= SKILLS/TECHNIQUES:  Fights typically with her death scythe, a heavy chainsaw that requires two hands to hold. She’s better with heavy weapons and uses that to her advantage. Her style of fighting is a bit more barbaric as she goes straight for her enemy and will swing relentlessly at them. SPECIAL POWERS: As a grim reaper, she has super strength, speed, agility, and endurance. Also, and this is a headcanon of mine, all grim reapers have a secret and special ability that is unique to them and how/why they died. Grelle died with the hope of changing who she was. As a result, she was born with the ability to manipulate her appearance. However, grim reapers don’t know of this power to prevent an uprising. Grelle knows faintly of her ability to change her appearance, but just assumes all reapers can do that. She doesn’t have many friends to ask about this power to. She also doesn’t know of the extent of this power. WEAPON(S) OF CHOICE: Her customized death scythe, a red chainsaw (of death~~) STRENGTHS: Heightened Speed, agility, strength, and pain tolerance/healing speed. WEAKNESSES: Since her weapon is so heavy, her attacks are a bit slower and leave her vulnerable mid attack. But her reflexes are so fast that it almost doesn’t even matter.

like this post if you have read it and agree to it, please.

#{ About } #~whαt‘ѕ wrσng wíth вєíng cσnfídєnt?~ [Grelle Sutcliff]

[amontilladont]

Character solidifying: Lucien

So I used this handy list to create a good masterpost of headcanons about my lucien! I will ofc put this under a Read more, but if you want to know more in-detail about my specific Lucien, this is a good read!

1. How does your character think of their father? What do they hate and love about him? What influence - literal or imagined - did the father have?

Lucien has a super close relationship with his dad, but Due to being a teenager, he at times Prefers to act neutral about him. Lucien knows his Father has struggled, being a single father, struggling balancing a job, dealing with his, at times, reckless behavior, and pursuing his passions of historical life. He looks up to him, and is proud of his father's journey, and success in living as somsone he is comfortable with, and loves him alot.

2. Their mother? How do they think of her? What do they hate? Love? What influence - literal or imagined - did the mother have?

Lucien have very, very few memories of Damien pre-transition, but he doesn't look back on those years, as he knows the person from back then is not his Father, and his father prefers to not think of that time, other than remembering his birth. It's a silent agreement in the small family to not bring up those years, unless talking about Lucien's birth, and childhood.

3. Brothers, sisters? Who do they like? Why? What do they despise about their siblings?

Lucien is an only child.

4. What type of discipline was your character subjected to at home? Strict? Lenient?

Lucien was raised rather leniently, as Damien believes more in diplomatic parenting than authoritarian parenting. however, he can get upset if Lucien endangers himself or others, and understands that most times, Lucien has no ill intentions.

5. Were they overprotected as a child? Sheltered?

Lucien, being an only child, is of course Damien's Treasure, but he's never been extremely sheltered, and more allowed to experience life himself. Of course, he'd not get left alone for hours, but he wasn't sheltered, or hidden away.

6. Did they feel rejection or affection as a child?

Lucien, when he was 5-6 years old, was very alone, seeing as his Father got very busy with transitioning, therapy, and work, so Lucien spent most of his very young years alone, with Mary, or other babysitters, rather than with his father. Lucien doesn't remember alot of this time, but he do remember when things got from lonely to better, and when his father started to change, appearance wise and mood-wise, when he got more confident, happy with himself, as due to his transition going well. He does not remember feeling very rejected, but he does remember loneliness, or late nights of staying up and waiting for Damien to come home, often staying up long past his bedtime, just so he could see Damien before going to bed. The very few times he didn't, he had nightmares, or bad sleep.

[AVAILABLE TO BE CHANGED DEPENDING ON WHO I AM ROLEPLAYING WITH]

7. What was the economic status of their family?

They are currently rather well-off, but there are often mishaps coming along with being a single parent.

8. How does your character feel about religion?

Lucien doesn't like religion when used to spread hate, homophobia, etc, but he is very open to people from different religions, not judging people, and tries his best to respect people with dietary needs due to religion.

9. What about political beliefs?

Lucien strongly believe in anarchy, he doesn't like politics dictating people's lives and choices. He'd also beconsidered a liberal, but he never claims he is either or another.

10. Is your character street-smart, book-smart, intelligent, intellectual, slow-witted?

Lucien is very street-smart, and due to his upbringing, has a lot of historical knowledge, but sometimes people think he is uneducated due to his uncaring attitude to what he considers "useless" subjects, aka math, and of course, sociology.

11. How do they see themselves: as smart, as intelligent, uneducated?

Lucien sees himself as a free spirit, willing to do whatever for his self-expression. his sense of self is extremely important for him.

12. How does their education and intelligence – or lack thereof - reflect in their speech pattern, vocabulary, and pronunciations?

Due to Lucien's upbringing, he CAN, if he has the needs to, dribble out a speech that could Rival Orcar Wilde, but in daisly conversations, he has a rather single way of speech, keeping his sentences short, unless he has to explain things.

13. Did they like school? Teachers? Schoolmates?

Lucien's feelngs when it comes to school in general is that it's a sort of prison, with forced education, and removing of indvidulity, and in a sense, he sees teachers as the ultimate authoritary, and he is very anti-authority. He often is very defiant when it comes to school, causing troule, skipping classes, vandalizing, and pulling pranks that ends up getting him suspended, and a few times risk expulsion. His classmates aren't very noticeable for him, except his close friends, or the other kids at the cul-de-sac.

14. Were they involved at school? Sports? Clubs? Debate? Were they unconnected?

Lucien strongly refuses to join clubs, or partake in activities that are established by others.

15. Did they graduate? High-School? College? Do they have a PHD? A GED?

Lucien is still in high school, but did go through elementary and middle school with no trouble. Only last year of middleschool did he start getting difficult.

16. What does your character do for a living? How do they see their profession? What do they like about it? Dislike?

Lucien goes to school, and has no part-time job, but he does sell Oregano for Molly, who works at the record store downtown, which evolved due to an incident that started as a joke on Ernest, and now has evolved into a scam, and sometimes selling actual weed. He keeps that as a deep secret.

17. Did they travel? Where? Why? When?

Lucien is a bit of a freeroamer, and often disappears during long weekends or schoolbreaks, and oftentimes doesn't talk about where or why, but often he goes with friends, getting in trouble or going to concerts out-of-state.

18. What did they find abroad, and what did they remember?

^see above answer

19. What were your character’s deepest disillusions? In life? What are they now?

smallest disillusion: That the Victorian era was filled of happiness and beauty. He learned later on about all the horrors and discomfort of the old era.

biggest disillusion: That people could be evil enough to hurt, attack, or even murder people just for who they were born as. When he discovered Transphobia and Homophobia he at first believed it was a rare event, but later learnin that there were full-on political movements trying to stop people from being happy as themselves, he realized the world is not so accepting.

20. What were the most deeply impressive political or social, national or international, events that they experienced?

The first time his father 'passed' with him, aka the first time people immediately called Damien Lucien's 'Father' intead of 'Mother'.

21. What are your character’s manners like? What is their type of hero? Whom do they hate?

Lucien was raised to be very polite, but he intentionally acts rude as it fits into his personality more, but he seldom pushes it, and often only needs to be told once to behave himself. he does often behave in a sarcastic manner, but a quick frown from Damien can stop him from insulting anyone.

22. Who are their friends? Lovers? ‘Type’ or ‘ideal’ partner?

Lucien's friends at school is the stereotypical 'goth gaggle', a group of five other kids that share his interests, and style. He is also very close to all the kids in the cul-de-sac, but Ernest is considerd his closest friend, living next door to each other and getting in trouble together means they have bonded to the point they are inseparable, and often, i you find one of them, the other is not far behind.

23. What do they want from a partner? What do they think and feel of sex?

Lucien doesn't really care about relationships, seeing as he pefers to be alone, but if he would have a partner, he'd mostly just ook that they wouldn't stray too far away from his personality. He'd not want to date someone who's a big snitch. He wouldn't demand they matched his aesthetic, or is lifestyle, but he'd want them to be open-mined, and obviously, not transphobic/homophobic.

24. What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually?

Lucien's social life mostly involvs his goth group, and with them he often either hangs around at Maple Bay mall, outside the school to cause trouble, or at times goes to concerts with them. With Ernest, or any of the cul-de-sac kids, he's often very different. being the oldest he ften ends up sort of guarding them, despite being very incapable of fighting, he watches over them. They mostly spend time during Joseph's Barbeques, talking to each other, and trying to avoid the grown ups.

25. What are their hobbies and interests?

Lucien has some hobbies he only shows with certain people. If he's alone at home, he can easily get sucked into a book, ending up reading for hours. He does like going to the movies with his dad, but he would much prefer going with his friends. Lucien has some musical hobbies as well, going to concerts, hanging around the local record shop and sometimes even spending time at the coffe spoon with Ernest to study together.

26. What does your character’s home look like? Personal taste? Clothing? Hair? Appearance?

Due to Damien's aesthetic being victorian gothic, Lucien's style has ened up in a more modern way of life, dressing more like the late 2000's gothic, or punk style, but he also fits into the grunge scenery. He's very into body modification in the form of pircings and tattoos, and dyed hair. Lucien's bedroom is actually very unlike the rest of their house, Damien working hard on the home's aesthetic, making LUcien's room, and even door, shine out as odd.

27. How do they relate to their appearance? How do they wear their clothing? Style? Quality?

^see above answer

28. Who is your character’s mate? How do they relate to him or her? How did they make their choice?

N/A

29. What is your character’s weaknesses? Hubris? Pride? Controlling?

Lucien has a bit of an over-expecting personality, expecting others to have the same views as him on alot of things, and sometimes, when he pushed his pranks onto others, he doesn't understand why someone would get offended at his michief.

30. Are they holding on to something in the past? Can he or she forgive?

Lucien can never for give any person who has ever insulted his dad, wether minor or major insult.

31. Does your character have children? How do they feel about their parental role? About the children? How do the children relate?

No, Lucien is 16. He does not have children yet.

32. How does your character react to stress situations? Defensively? Aggressively? Evasively?

When lucien gets stressed he tends to have two reactions. He either gets agressive, answering people in a quick, angry tone, which often means he snaps at well-meaning people, like his dad or his friends. Other instances though, he goes quiet and locks himself away, aviding socialization until he feels better.

33. Do they drink? Take drugs? What about their health? [DRUG USE TW]

Lucien tends to sometimes drink wine, when he's alone at home, but he does so very rarely, and nly very little. He has only gotten drunk twice in his life, during weekends out with his friends. Lucien has smoked weed a few times in his life, smokes cigarettes at times, and when with Ernest, vapes, but he tends to avoid doing such around Damien, not wanting him to worry, or get angry.

34. Does your character feel self-righteous? Revengeful? Contemptuous?

With everyone describing Lucien as different things, he often is contemptous about being put into labels, such as 'Rebellious', 'delinquent' or other Negative phrases, but he's also very apathetic to them, as he has ore of a sense that, people can think what they want, but he knows what he truly is, and if they are right or wrong.

35. Do they always rationalize errors? How do they accept disasters and failures?

Lucien often tries to avoid failures, due to his pranks, failure can mean ending up getting in trouble, and he has a sort of anxiety about failing, and tries to plan ahead to avoid it. Smetimes he fails though, and he can end up getting slight anxiety attacks when it happens.

36. Do they like to suffer? Like to see other people suffering?

Despite Lucien often pranking people, he's not a spiteful person, and doesn't like t see anyone suffer, except if they have hurt his dad, minor or majorly. He tends to prank people in a personal vendetta, but tries his best not to cause genuine harm. Of course, sometimes things go roughly, and he ends up harming someone, and he ends up often feeling extremely bad about it, unless he talks to his dad about it.

37. How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories?

Lucien has a habit of when he listes to music, he phases out, and disappears in a sort of trance. His imagination isn't verly imaginative, as he doesn't really enjoy fantasy, so his daydreams often ends up being more realistic, and the few times he does end up on a bit of a surrealistic side, he often tries to steer his daydreams into a more realistic zone.

38. Are they basically negative when facing new things? Suspicious? Hostile? Scared? Enthusiastic?

Lucien is a bit of a mix between hostile to new things, and enthusiastic, he values the outcome of the new thing, it can be listening to a new music band, travelling to a new place, pranking a new person, etc. He tried his best to figure out a plan to get the best utcome of trying new things, and when it goes badly, he shuts down and refuses to try it again to try a new outcome.

39. What do they like to ridicule? What do they find stupid?

gullible people, he often takes advantage of people not knowing things he does know, to twist things and cause confusion, r scare people. He also liked to be mrbid and clzim, ex. that the cul-de-sac is buit over graves of innocents, or that his home is haunted, or that he sometimes sees people dragging bodies around and burying them in their yard.

40. How is their sense of humor? Do they have one?

^see above

41. Is your character aware of who they are? Strengths? Weaknesses? Idiosyncrasies? Capable of self-irony?

Lucien is aware that he can be rather selfish at moments, and in other moments that he cn react rather harshly to small matters, but the problem is he can be very apathetic to the damage he may potentially cause, via being rude, or harming people. he can also come off as rather reckless at times, and the few people who are allowed to see his vulnerable side, can see him as gentle and sympathtic, or even kind. Lucien denies all of it, though.

42. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?

Lucien wants understanding, and acceptance. His wants mostly go with being who you want to be, and not being forced to do certain things based on who you are. He mostly just wants a right to express himself freely.

43. Does your character have any secrets? If so, are they holding them back?

Lucien's secrets are mostly secrets he hs because the truth would get him in trouble, such as his Oregano scam-weed dealing, his troublemaking, or his wanderlust tendencies.

44. How badly do they want to obtain their life objectives? How do they pursue them?

Being a teenager, he doesn't have a lot, or barely any lifelong goals.

45. Is your character pragmatic? Think first? Responsible? All action? A visionary? Passionate? Quixotic?

Lucien can be called irresponsible, reckless, quck-tempered and very ill-temepered at times, but he ften change based on who he is around. Damien often clls Lucien responsible and well-mannered, but most people only know him as grumpy.

46. Is your character tall? Short? What about size? Weight? Posture? How do they feel about their physical body?

Lucien has a tall-slender build, having had some problems being underweight. He is 5'7" at age 16, and is still growing. he desn't feel too bad about his body, other than that he doesn't have enough body modifications, aka  piercings and tattoos.

47. Do they want to project an image of a younger, older, more important person? Does they want to be visible or invisible?

He wants to be consideed mature, but often fails due to his quick temper, and his apathy.

48. How are your character’s gestures? Vigorous? Weak? Controlled? Compulsive? Energetic? Sluggish?

Lucien moved very slowly, and isn't very epressive on his bosy language other thn facial expressions, and while there aren't alow of significant expressions, he doesn't stop himself from expressing what he feels.

49. What about voice? Pitch? Strength? Tempo and rhythm of speech? Pronunciation? Accent?

Lucien' voice is often very low, and he doesn't like speaking long sentences, preferably using shrugging of the shoulders, nods, and grunting noises rather than long phrases.

50. What are the prevailing facial expressions? Sour? Cheerful? Dominating?

Lucien's expressions are few, and he has a very significant scowl on his face most of the time. He does have some smug expressions, but thse are rare, and only really Damien is able to get a genuine smile out of him, or seen him cry.

#[headcanon] #[character development]

[nycttophilic-a]

Grelle Sutcliff~

=BASIC INFO= FULL NAME: Grelle Sutcliff  NICKNAME(S)/ALIAS(ES): Red Reaper PRONUNCIATION(S): Gr-elle AGE: over a century old looks to be in mid twenties GENDER: Trans woman  SPECIES: grim reaper BIRTH DATE: May 30th SEXUALITY: Pansexual =PERSONALITY= PERSONALITY: Teasing, flirty, trouble making, twisted, bloodthirsty, depressed EMBODYING QUALITY/IDEA: A god of death, one for a lust for blood and a knack for causing trouble.  LIKES: Blood, red, drawing, fashion, sewing, singing, makeup, shopping, fighting, her chainsaw, love, romance DISLIKES: Paperwork, uniforms, rules, boring people, weak people, getting in trouble (caught breaking rules more like), getting told “no”, overtime, her work as a reaper, being a man, people who call her a male, transphobic and homophobic people FEARS: Never finding love WEAKNESSES: She has too much of a heart—or at least, she’s too quick to jump into love. She also just does whatever the hell she wants to do.  STRENGTHS: is really tough and stubborn with her beliefs, is open to new ideas an experiences, is supportive of anyone and everyone’s sexuality and preferred pronouns despite living in an era where that’s unheard of SPECIAL/SIGNIFICANT BELONGINGS: Grelle adores her custom made death scythe, a red chainsaw. She also commonly wears red, and will most likely be donning the coat of her late mistress, Madam Red. =PHYSICAL AND HEALTH INFO= HEIGHT:  5′9 WEIGHT: 146 BODY TYPE: Slim body with toned muscles hidden under her clothes. She’s quite strong and muscular, just doesn’t seem that way.  JEWELRY: Earrings, necklaces, bracelets, whatever she can find or buy in her spare time. She loves to look beautiful.  PIERCINGS/TATTOOS: She doesn’t really have piercings, or for long at least. There have been a few times where she pierces her ears, nose, lips, and other areas over time. However, if she leaves the hole open with no ring, it will fill up in a day due to her being a reaper.  SCARS/DISTINGUISHING MARKS: She has various scars along her body due to cuts with her own death scythe when she was training with it. She also has lots of freckles on her cheeks and nose, as well as shoulders, but she covers the ones on her face with makeup and the ones on her shoulders with clothes.  =RELATIONSHIP INFO= RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Verse dependent  PARENTS: Élisa Sutcliff (mother, deceased), Maurice Sutcliff (father, deceased) SIBLING(S):  Christine (eldest sister), Sophia (second oldest sister), Rose (third oldest sister) – BEST FRIEND(S): Ronald Knox, Madam Red, verse dependent FRIENDS: William T. Spears (?), verse dependent ACQUAINTANCES: Ciel Phantomhive, Sebastian Michaelis, Undertaker, the Midford family, verse dependent ASSISTANTS: Verse dependent GUARDS: N/A ALLIES: Verse dependent  PETS/SPECIAL ANIMALS: Verse dependent – ENEMIES: Ciel Phantomhive, Sebastian Michaelis, Undertaker, herself, her parents, verse dependent MAIN ENEMY(IES): Sebastian Michaelis, verse dependent MOST HATED: her parents, verse dependent =STORY INFO= STORIES THAT THIS CHARACTER APPEARS IN: Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji STATUS: Alive (well...dead, but alive) BACKSTORY: Grelle was born in late 18th century France, way out in the country. Her family lived on a farm, and she was the youngest out of four children and the only boy. As being the only son, she was forced to do all of the hard and draining chores. Her parents didn’t care about her in the slightest and only thought of her as someone to take care of the farm, not as their own child. Her sisters loved her though, and they would play dress up with her and play fun games that most little boys would cringe and complain about. But Grelle (or just Grell at the time) loved it. However, when she grew older, she found that she just didn’t feel...right in her own body. And to make matters worse, she seemed to have developed feelings for some of the boys in the nearby town. Way back then, homosexuality was a crime punishable by death, and being trans was just unheard of. So, Grelle had to keep it a secret from everyone. When her family finally found out, she was kicked out and told to go die somewhere. She stole some of her parents’ money and used it to go to London, as the English always fascinated her and her sisters had begun to teach her how to speak the language. There, she became a murderer and killed happy women who were in a happy relationship, something Grelle would never have. When she was almost caught, she hung herself in the hopes that she will be reborn as a woman. But that never happened. She awoke as a grim reaper, still in her male body, and has been trapped like this ever since. – PLACE OF BIRTH: France PAST LIVING QUARTERS: France, London, Madam Red’s Manor CURRENT AND FUTURE HOMES: Reaper world – NATIVE LANGUAGE(S): French LANGUAGES SPOKEN: French, English, German, some Russian, some Japanese. =TALENTS/OCCUPATION/EDUCATION= OCCUPATION/JOB: Grim Reaper BOSS: Reaper Council TALENTS: An excellent student back in her academy days, and an excellent fighter. She would be a great reaper if she would just do as told. YEARS OF EDUCATION: No formal education, was in the Reaper academy as a grim reaper for eight years LEVEL OF EDUCATION: Graduated the reaper academy =COMBAT= SKILLS/TECHNIQUES:  Fights typically with her death scythe, a heavy chainsaw that requires two hands to hold. She’s better with heavy weapons and uses that to her advantage. Her style of fighting is a bit more barbaric as she goes straight for her enemy and will swing relentlessly at them. SPECIAL POWERS: As a grim reaper, she has super strength, speed, agility, and endurance. Also, and this is a headcanon of mine, all grim reapers have a secret and special ability that is unique to them and how/why they died. Grelle died with the hope of changing who she was. As a result, she was born with the ability to manipulate her appearance. However, grim reapers don’t know of this power to prevent an uprising. Grelle knows faintly of her ability to change her appearance, but just assumes all reapers can do that. She doesn’t have many friends to ask about this power to. She also doesn’t know of the extent of this power. WEAPON(S) OF CHOICE: Her customized death scythe, a red chainsaw (of death~~) STRENGTHS: Heightened Speed, agility, strength, and pain tolerance/healing speed. WEAKNESSES: Since her weapon is so heavy, her attacks are a bit slower and leave her vulnerable mid attack. But her reflexes are so fast that it almost doesn’t even matter. =VERSES= ~hσld чσur вrєαth αnd cσunt thє dαчѕ; wє‘rє grαduαtíng ѕσσn~ [High School Verse]—A modern day high school Verse!! Grelle is a popular and outgoing theatre girl who loves drama, on and off stage. Everyone knows her, but no one REALLY knows her. She’s also transgender, but doesn’t talk about it much so most people don’t know.  

~í‘vє gσt α вlαnk ѕpαcє вαвч; αnd í‘ll wrítє чσur nαmє~ [Death Note! Verse]—Grelle is a Shinigami in the Death Note universe, so naturally this au is divergent from DN canon. For instance, there is so Ryuk or monsterous Shinigami. Instead, they are all humans that committed suicide and became reapers. I’ll explain in further detail if you’re interested~

~ѕσund σf mч hєαrt; thє вєαt gσєѕ σn αnd σn~ [Band Verse]—Grelle is a human who loves to play the drums and sing—as well as try to find a lover who gets her love for music. But finding a band who’ll accept her weirdness may be harder than she thought.  

~í’m α crєαturє whσ‘ѕ up tσ nσ gσσd; í‘ll lσvє чσu líkє α vαmpírє wσuld~ [Vampire Verse]—This verse is very simple and the same for all of the muses that have it: the character is a vampire. This verse is very flexible, so if you have ideas please let me know so we can incorporate it into the thread!! But it’s nothing major, I just love vampires lol

~íf í tσld чσu whαt í wαѕ wσuld чσu turn чσur вαck σn mє?~ [Monster! Verse]—An AU where the world is humans/monster hunters vs. monsters. Grelle is a flamboyant and messy vampire who loves to tease and play with her food before drinking their blood. She doesn’t really care about monster hunters as she is excellent at avoiding them, and so she tends to mind her own business a lot. 

~í cαn вє hαppч wíth чσu; вut í cαn‘t вє hαppч íf í‘m dєαd~ [Simulation Verse]—Do you want to ship your muse with one of my four girls? Then this is the verse for you!! That is, if you’re prepared for some REALLY messed up shit and triggers like suicide, abuse, murder, blood, and many others. This verse is not at all for the faint of heart, and it’s best if you don’t really know what you’re in for. If you want to learn a bit more about this verse, you can find it here.

~wє‘vє вєєn ѕpєndíng mσѕt σf σur lívєѕ lívíng ín thє gαngѕtα‘ѕ pαrαdíѕє~ [BSD! Verse]—Taking place in Bungou Stray Dogs, Grelle works for her cousin, Anne, as a Reaper. Grelle goes to different places and takes note on the Abilities in that region. Find more info here.

~tαkє mє thrσugh thє níght; fαll íntσ thє dαrk ѕídє~ [Villain! Verse]—Grelle is a villainess that mostly does mercenary work. Loves killing and making a mess of it all. Her quirk allows her to change her appearance, so you never know if she actually looks like herself—which she doesn’t, all the way—and people also can’t track her down.

like this post if you have read it and agree to it, please.

#Grelle Sutcliff #~🥀I’m super bored (OOC)🥀~