posted 5 months ago with 106 notes

posted 6 months ago with 106 notes

posted 6 months ago with 106 notes

"What did my arms do before they held you?"
✗ Sylvia Plath (via theunquotables)
posted 10 months ago with 106 notes

posted 10 months ago with 106 notes

theshinigamiwilliamtspears:

reapergrellsutcliff:

Grell has to focus considerably to calm his fits of giggles enough to be able to hear what the Undertaker has to say, in reply to all the questions that were presented to him. His breathing remaining heavy for a short time from the exertion of laughing; but mostly because he is trying to stop those humorous hysterics from happening all over again.

"Heavens! My heart goes out to the reapers that had to make do without any corrective lenses at all." Distraction is a good tactic to keep from laughing, when he focuses on this segment of the conversation.  "I understand that if it’s all you know, and don’t have any other option, that it wouldn’t seem abnormal. …But I fear that I would get lost trying to cross the room, and poor William wouldn’t even make it two steps out of bed!" More giggles spill forth. Grell’s own eyesight is quite bad, but he knows that William’s is much worse; and he enjoys teasing their hawk on any topic whenever he gets the chance.
His expression turns thoughtful as he regards the direction of Thomas’ voice. “This must be why you don’t find it to be too abnormally difficult to go about without any glasses at all; when like the rest of us, you could no doubt benefit from them.”

Grell looks a bit shocked with what his grey owl goes on to say concerning his past, the beard Thomas apparently had, and the remark about women; which makes the red one instantly picture the bearded lady in the circus sideshow.  Grell doesn’t even want to think about himself with facial hair, let alone any of the women that work at their Library, that is just too damn weird! …And then those same mental images of before come creeping back to him, and he cannot contain the humor he finds in the whole situation. Laughter carrying in his voice as he speaks, “I am glad you came to that decision, my darling. I enjoy being able to see your handsome face.”  Ignoring, once again, William’s annoyance in the things he says or does.  “The only reapers I can think of now that have any sort of facial hair are Pops and Slingby. ..Ronnie once tried to grow a goatee, about fifteen years ago.” Another explosion of giggles, as Grell flail-fans himself with his hand, trying to calm to continue what he has to say. “Lets just say he wasn’t very successful.. and it didn’t look as good on him as he expected it to.” He snickers, “I shaved it off of him one night while he slept.”

What the Undertaker states in reply to William causes near immediate silence in the redhead. Looking quite intrigued, and emotionally touched to hear this. He just stares at the blur that is his silver haired lover for a long moment to let the notion of this sink in, before looking up at William as a wide and loving grin splits his features.  “Aww… William~!” He squirms some more in the supervisor’s lap, as he makes these odd little pleased whining sounds. “You -do- love me!” He turns to wrap his arms around the dark haired man as he leans to nuzzle happily against the side of Will’s neck.  Another joyous whine is exhaled, when as predicted the red one’s mind burbles with more questions. His speech now slightly muffled since he doesn’t bother to sit up when asking, “Was William my Death?..  When I was mortal, was he the one to reap me?  Ooh! That would be so romantic!!”

Asking such questions almost feels as if he is asking about someone else’s dream.  As far as he and William know, the first soul their reaped was that of the young writer boy, and they had reaped him together.  But in another ‘life’, so to speak, the existence he and William had before their memories and records were tampered with, they had a much deeper connection.

William scowls even more when the redhead in his lap dares to tease him about his own poor eyesight. It is no secret, but it doesn’t mean that he enjoys being a resource for humour. Grell is testing his patience at being allowed to remain so near him. His jaw clenches, speaking through his teeth in reply to the Undertaker in a flat tone, doing his best to ignore Grell’s remarks. “More tea would be lovely, thank you.”

The supervisor’s high annoyance that is nearing anger is disrupted momentarily when Grell recalls the event of Ronald attempting to grow facial hair. He doesn’t comment on it, but he is silently thankful that the red one took matters into his own hands and forced the blonde to be rid of that fashion statement. He cannot even imagine the younger reaper looking that way, nor does he want to. Not reacting to the Undertaker’s own little teasing remarks on the topic. Though it would be odd enough to imagine his creator looking that way as well.

William resumes his quiet brooding, or at least he intends to, that is until Thomas makes that remark on the past that William himself has no recollection of. His eyes widen slightly behind rectangular framed lenses. He has been told before by the retired reaper that he, in those forgotten bygone moments, had shared a close relationship with both of these reapers near him now. That he had a hand in Grell’s development as a new reaper. But, he hadn’t entirely realized just how involved he had been; to actually be the one to select Grell’s soul, and to assist in his creation. That is a very personal position to hold.

The hawk becomes lost in his own thoughts as he stares at the silver haired one across from him. Only jolted away from the inner workings of his own mind at this high pitched sounds Grell is making. He looks to the redhead when he feels those eyes upon him; the way Grell is looking at him makes William wish that the smaller reaper wasn’t presently in his lap. He would brace himself if he only had time. But before he can stop it from happening Grell is clinging to him. His body goes rigid, and he is unable to stop the blood from rushing to the pale skin of his face with the way Grell is nuzzling his neck.  He has no idea how to react to this, what he should say, or even do.  So he resolves to just sit there, being tense and uncomfortable, not breathing.

Thomas simply appears amused as Grell continues to laugh and wiggle, always pleased to see his lover happy, even if it is at his own expense this time. He is far too old to mind such things at this point. Smiling idly at the commentary. “You do not miss what you have never had, my lady. We might be a fair amount ahead of the human world with some of our technology, but up until fairly recently, all of us, human and reaper alike, had to make do with what sight we had, relying on memory when our eyes failed us.” A soft chuckle. “It is true that our hawk’s eyesight has always been poor, but you must remember, he is quite a bit older than you, and as such, his eyesight is that much worse, as mine is worse than his.” He shrugs. “He has not let that stop him; he is still one of the most distance-accurate reapers I have ever seen. Most need to be quite close to their target to land a blow, but he has honed his distance skills admirably.” He sets his beaker down upon the coffin and uncrosses his legs as he continues, “I find eyeglasses useful, of course, but I cannot allow them to be a crutch. I would rather rely on skills that cannot be taken from me; I had my glasses broken in battle once, and it was part of why I lost something very important as a result.” Not mentioning what or who that could be. “I vowed then that I would stop relying on them and learn to trust my other senses, since you cannot lose what is a part of you.” He chuckles and lifts the end of his braid, toying with it idly as he muses. “It just seemed the thing to do at the time. One of the things that we can do to be able to judge humans with impartiality is to stay with one foot planted in their world, and to change with the times. Beards fell out of favour, and drew more attention than we needed. One needs to blend in with humans, not stand out, So, I shaved.” He shrugs. “It matters little to me otherwise.” He lifts hidden brows in mild amusement at Grell’s renewed giggle-fit over his partner’s inability to grow facial hair. Truly, he finds more to smile about at Grell’s pleasure in it than the situation itself, which is something he hardly has an opinion on.
He smiles again to see Grell climbing into their hawk’s lap, and the inevitable annoyance that crosses William’s face when the redhead does so. It is both humourous and sad, really, that one that craves contact so very badly fights that very need. However, that is his William’s way now, to fight what he needs and desires, to deny himself even the admittance of the need for it. Does he think it makes him weak? Perhaps. However, it does make the supervisor’s rare displays of affection all the more treasured. Moving to prepare more tea for William, enjoying the quiet surprise from the other at his little revelation; he always enjoys being able to catch the surly reaper off-guard, to catch those flashes of his actual personality in those nanoseconds before the wall rises again, and the dark-haired reaper becomes a proverbial statue as Grell clings to him. Not looking up, the mortician murmurs, “for heaven’s sake, mon faucon, just breathe and put your arms around him. He’s not going to try and eat you or strip you at the moment. He just wants your affection.”

posted 10 months ago with 106 notes

theshinigamiwilliamtspears:

reapergrellsutcliff:

Grell smiles wider when the grey owl speaks of them visiting this new -well, new to him- person soon. The redhead enjoys social visits, and looks forward for the chance to do something out of the ordinary; and possibly get out of working extra hours all at the same time.

Absently he hands his empty tea beaker to William, as he has no wish to hold onto it any longer. Not taking into account that both of Will’s hands are occupied with tea, and keeping Grell from toppling over.

The red reaper’s brows lift at the description the Undertaker gives concerning this person that his piqued his curiosity before he has even met the man. “He sounds intimidating.” And there is that thoughtful, curious look again. Thomas most likely knows well by now that when Grell gets that expression, to prepare himself for another barrage of questions. “You lot didn’t bother with glasses back then, hm? …Was the eyesight of shinigami better then than it usually is now? Or did you simply make do without glasses because it wasn’t an option?” Unsure of exactly what sort of year span ‘back then’ is referring to.

A brief pause when another realization moves through him. “Wait… ” He peers at the mortician across from them, even if he cannot see much more than blurry shades of silver and grey. “You said this reaper looks as you all did back then? …. And that he has a beard.” Grell smirks.. “Does this mean -you- used to have a beard?!” He pinches his lips tightly together, smiling, but that smile spreads to a grin, and soon he cannot contain the laughter that erupts from him at the thought of this.  Giggling madly, able to speak between gasps of breath a short time later. “I’m sorry! .. I’m sorry.. I don’t mean to laugh at you.. entirely.” More snickering, “It’s just that… with the way you often wear your hair now.. all in your face.. if you happened to have a beard as well… you would be nothing but hair!” Laughter takes over his verbal abilities again, rocking and squeaking in each struggled breath. The visual images of that is just too hilarious. He knows it is unlikely that Thomas had the same hairstyle back then that he wears now; but regardless, he can’t help find but humor in it. Thankful that his lover is a generally easy going man, and wouldn’t become personally offended over the red one’s remarks, as other certain grumpy reapers would be.

William files away this ancient reaper’s full name in his memory to research further later. Nodding his head subtly with acknowledgement to what his elder explains.
A sigh of annoyance is expressed when Grell passes the empty beaker to him, having to move his own partially full beaker to catch the glass so it will not merely drop. Balancing Grell’s on top of his own he leans forward to place both upon the small coffin currently serving as a table. He would have said something to reprimand Grell for this, but the Undertaker was speaking and he did not wish to interrupt. Near silent grumbles will have to do.

The supervisor returns to a more comfortable position; beginning to question just why Grell is still being allowed to remain in his lap, when the redhead is obviously no longer upset and could easily be sitting of his own accord.  He would never admit that he secretly enjoys the contact.

William isn’t the sort of man to speak unless he has something worthwhile to say. So for now he is content just to listen. Grell does enough talking for all three of them anyway.
He could partially answer the question the enthusiastic reaper asks concerning spectacles; but since the inquiry was not directed at him, he makes no effort to do so.

However, the reaper dressed in black’s stoic silence is broken due to the absurd correlations between present and past that Grell strings together, concerning Thomas’ hypothetical appearance. Exhaling an exasperated sigh, “Honestly, Sutcliff.”
Scowling in annoyance at the hyperventilating sounds the redhead is emitting all the while squirming in his lap. Causing William to give serious debate to the option of pushing Grell off onto the floor.
He scoffs as his eyes meet the Undertaker’s face, “He is your childe, I blame his sense of humor entirely on you.”

Undertaker continues to watch the pair with open amusement, gesturing absently to the beakers when they are on the coffin before him. “Let me know if either of you wish more tea, the water should still be perfect for it.” He chuckles at the thought of his Nicolai being intimidating. “I suppose some could call him imposing, but if I ever thought him as such, I quickly outgrew it. He is stern, yes; but there is a gentleness there as well. One does not live past a certain age if one walks hand in hand with anger, after all.” He leans back, pleased by Grell’s questions, and entertaining them with answers - at least for the time being. “We didn’t bother with glasses because they had not been invented; no more, no less. We did have ways to protect our eyes. We would wear masks when working, first with very thin slices of clear obsidian, then, as technology progressed in the human world, we moved to glass. However, spectacles themselves, and their ability to assist sight - that is a thoroughly modern invention. We made do with what we had, as the humans were doing as well.”
He watches Grell as the redhead begins to laugh, looking more amused, eyes glinting behind the veil of silver that hides them. “Yes, in fact, I did have a beard. We pretty much all did. Including some of the women.” He smirks, making it hard to tell if he is joking or not. “Mine was nowhere near as impressive as Nicolai’s, and I eventually shaved it off as time and styles moved on. Whatever it takes to fit with current times and human styles.” He is not offended by Grell’s amusement at the idea of him having a beard; he is simply glad to hear his lover’s laughter and to know that he is happy. It does him good to see these two close, and to not have William pushing Grell away, as he so often does.
He looks back to the hawk at his comment and snorts, “I will have you know that you were the one to find and choose his soul, and you assisted in his creation, so the blame lies equally between us.” He teases back, knowing that what he has said will only raise more questions - as pretty much is the norm with these two. He remembers all the way back to his human life so clearly that it is unfathomable for him to comprehend what it must be like to have so much of one’s important memories simply accessible, as has happened with the pair before him.

theshinigamiwilliamtspears:

reapergrellsutcliff:


The red reaper’s curiosity is never entirely satisfied on any topic, it is simply his way. Either that, or he is just nosey and has to pry into other people’s business. The interest Grell has in this new topic shows through with his smile, “Mostly.”  Able to hear the amused tone in his lover’s voice. He has entirely ignored William’s prior reprimand regarding his wiggling around. Used to being corrected by the man he is enjoying being near. Grell sits in quiet thought for a moment as he finishes the rest of the sweet liquid in his beaker, but as soon as his mouth is no longer occupied with tea he speaks again. “When will we be going to talk to him? …. What does he look like?”
Since Shinigami are essentially immortal, a lot of things in day to day life can become mundane very quickly. Though Grell isn’t as tired of the world as some older reapers can become, the chance of having new experiences creates high amounts of enthusiasm in the redhead.

"Nicolai.." William repeats the name as his brows knit a little, a sign that he falling into focused though. Enjoying the moment of peace when Grell is neither squirming or rambling. The supervisor searches the recesses of his memory to recall if he has heard anyone speak of a reaper by that name, or seen any texts about him. It isn’t a common name in their area, so it is unlikely that he would confuse this person with someone else. However he doesn’t seem to be remembering any information on him. It can’t hurt to inquire, "Is he still on record?"  There is a slim chance that there would still be some text on this man somewhere, in a dusty untouched corner of the Library, or a branch thereof. Though he knows that some of the ancient ones take their own records with them when they depart.
Not taking notice of how amused the Undertaker seems to be by both of his creations bombarding him with questions.

Thomas watches his curious lovers with a smirk, finding their expressions and questions entertaining. “We will talk to him soon, my dear. I have as yet to set a specific date. His looks? Ah…” He muses, drumming his talons on the side of his beaker. “A bit taller than our hawk, but aside from that, much as we all looked then, at least the males of us. Monk’s robes, Russian in design, long hair and the beard to go with it. Could stare down a wolf at fifty paces and make it cower. Doesn’t bother with glasses; none of us did back then. Those have been a modern addition to our uniform.” He has more tea and turns his atttention to the other reaper. “Yes. Nicolai Vasilevits. I doubt if you will find much of anything on him in the records; he was old when I was created and I have little doubt that all of his own records are long in his own safekeeping. He’s been retired for a very long time.” Not seeming to mind indulging their curiosity, at least not for the moment. If anything, it is amusing him to do so. He does enjoy the art of telling people what they want to know without actually revealing anything, after all.


I told you a secret that night. And you were quiet. And I was quiet. But it was so strange, that the rest of the world wasn’t quiet with us. The rain kept pounding at the windows and the wind kept howling and I am sure the Earth kept turning. But we were quiet because life had stopped for us.

I told you a secret that night. And you were quiet. And I was quiet. But it was so strange, that the rest of the world wasn’t quiet with us. The rain kept pounding at the windows and the wind kept howling and I am sure the Earth kept turning. But we were quiet because life had stopped for us.

posted 11 months ago with 106 notes

theshinigamiwilliamtspears:

reapergrellsutcliff:


"But Will~ I couldn’t have asked you to hand my tea to me, you were talking, it would have been rude to interrupt!" Grell smiles, and has another sip of his tea. Seeming quite pleased with himself that he has been able to remain this close to William for as long as he has. Cherishing each one of those little caresses the dark haired reaper gives to him. Moments like this happen.. well.. never. His earlier emotional breakdown didn’t happen merely for attention, it was honestly felt, but it doesn’t mean that now he has calmed down that he won’t enjoy the comfort he is receiving.

Remaining quiet and still as he listens to the two higher ranking reapers’ conversation, brows lifting as he looks at the blurry shape that would be his silver haired lover sitting across from them. “This reaper has known you for the entirety of your existence?! …. Heavens..” He cannot even fathom how long that is. The Undertaker is the most ancient Shinigami Grell knows, and if this other person of topic has known the owl for his entire life as a reaper, it means this other person is either just as old, or older. A smile of curiosity comes to the fore at the invitation he receives, “Ooh.. I look forward to meeting him!” Someone that his beloved prizes so high that he would not only trust him with these matters, but has also never kept anything hidden from must be important indeed. And, he is eager to meet someone that has known the Undertaker for that long. “Where does he reside?”

William scoffs with Grell’s reply. “Your wiggling about wasn’t enough of an interruption?” His sharp eyes follow the Undertaker’s motions, and once the tea egg is removed from the beaker that is functioning as a tea cup, he accepts the beverage. “I must say I am impressed by this person you speak of before I’ve even met him, due to the high regard in which you hold him.” If there is anyone’s opinion he trusts above all others it is this silver haired retired reaper’s.

The supervisor takes a sample taste of his tea, not commenting on it, but the flavour does cause his eyes to close briefly in appreciation. One arm remains around the redhead in his lap to keep him supported, while the other holds his beaker. Thankful that Grell has finally stopped squirming.

"I will be apprehensive to speak to someone I am unfamiliar with, concerning a topic that is so personal to Grell and I." Not only is he a highly private man, but this is his way of being protective of their falcon without otherwise verbalizing it. “However, if you have trust in him, I will be willing to speak of it as long as he keeps the information confidential." From that statement it seems that the hawk has accepted the invitation. He would never admit it, but curiosity has caught his attention as well. And he cannot help but wonder why he has never heard mention made of this trusted reaper until recently. “What is this man’s name?"

Thomas looks amused at the curiosity of his creations, lifting his own tea and setting the egg aside, watching them, not bothering to repress the grin that brightens his features as he does so. “Ah, but you two are amusing! So many questions, you would think neither of you enjoys mystery or surprises.” He takes a long drink from his beaker and sits back, hidden gaze moving from one reaper to the other. “His name is Nicolai and he lives in our Realm, in the equivalent of Russia. He is long retired, but acts as a Guardian of some of the oldest records in existence.” He smirks. “Does that satisfy your curiosity?”

posted 11 months ago with 106 notes

theshinigamiwilliamtspears:

reapergrellsutcliff:

Without Grell’s glasses being worn, he cannot see the serious and unsure expression the Undertaker wears as he addresses him; however he can easily hear it in his voice. His own mood mirroring that of the mortician’s, with concern in place of unsure. After a moment of pondering he squirms some more in William’s lap to sit up enough to be able to safely drink his tea without dumping it all over himself and his boss. William may be putting up with him for now, but the redhead knows if he accidentally poured tea all over Will that no amount of sweet smiles would convince the dark haired one that he should be allowed to cuddle with him ever again.  “This person you wish to speak to about it, are you sure they are someone that is trustworthy?” Not that he doubts Thomas’ judgment, but this is a rather personal matter after all.
Grell looks to the table… er. coffin? that he knows his tea rests on.. but all he can make out are blurry blobs. So he wraps one arm around William for leverage and leans down close to the table to peer, squinting at the items on it. The red reaper grins triumphantly when he finally locates the warm beaker of delicious liquid, and uses William to pull himself -and the tea- back into place as he was before. Sipping from the beaker before he continues with what he was saying, “I assume the person must be a fellow shinigami… and shinigami are curious by nature. They probably won’t tell you anything unless you tell them why you want to know first.”

"I wouldn’t fathom letting you go after him alone." William regards the Undertaker with a seriousness in his eyes, “Even if it was your intention to hunt him down on your own, I would be at your side whether you liked it or not." He is very stubborn, and wouldn’t dream of missing out on this retribution.
When the old owl speaks to the red falcon in his arms, his hand moves in an idle caress along Grell’s hair. Perhaps a gesture of reassurance. Exhaling with an annoyed sigh a few seconds later when the redhead starts to squirm all over again; can he not sit still for two seconds? Doing his best to ignore Grell’s moving about, he looks to the retired reaper. “He poses a very good question, Thomas. The matter of our memories having been tampered with isn’t something I wish to have aired. If you tru…..” He huffs, “..Damn it Sutcliff, what the hell are you doing?!” Scowling with the way Grell is squirming, pawing, and pulling at him all in an effort to reach his tea. “Honestly.. you could have just asked me to hand it to you.” The supervisor adjusts his spectacles, and sets his vision back upon the mortician across from them. “As I was saying… If you trust this person you speak of, I will by default fall in line. However I am sure you understand my reservations.”

Thomas chuckles humourlessly at Grell’s question, leaning to lift William’s beaker, sniffing at the tea and removing the egg within, speaking as he does so. “Seeing as how he has known me the entirety of my existence as I am now, there is none I can trust more than he. I have never kept a secret from him, and I have no reason to begin now. He will either assist us or stand aside and allow us our mistakes, if he feels our choices foolish. It is simply his way.”

He looks over to the dark reaper, mildly amused at his annoyance of Grell’s wiggling; the more things change… “He will be curious about your memories being tampered with, of course; such things were only done to traitors too important to destroy in the times before my own.” He sets William’s beaker down and slides it toward his hawk, continuing to speak. “You are both welcome to meet him before I speak to him of this, of course. I would actually prefer it.” He looks to William. “Your kestrel is included in that invitation.”