"Mama...Mama!" a small child giggled cutely as he skipped inside his home. It was a little boy, possibly of age ten, who was searching for his parents. He had vibrant red hair that reached his shoulders and soft, olive eyes. He was wearing a loose-fitting, faded-red sundress and pretty sandals. Upon entering the house, he looked around, still smiling cutely.
"Mama?" he cried, forcing a higher tone to his voice to mimic a girl.
"I can't take it...!" a masculine voice rung from down the hall, "That is not my son! My son doesn't dress up like a girl and have tea parties with stuffed animals!"
"I know...I know..." a lighter voice sighed somewhat sadly, "What are we going to do?"
"I don't care!" the masculine voice was sounding quite angry, "He's not suited for this world..."
The boy blinked and walked farther into the house, hearing the voice get louder and louder. What was going on?
"M-Mama...?" he whimpered fearfully as he continued to search, finding no one. The sunlight slowly pulled away into a light blue blackness, the air suddenly chilled as those voices became a whisper that assaulted his ears. It was cold...The voices surrounding him in a fine mist and suffocating him with sadness and tears. There were shadows on the walls, growing bigger and bigger as the mist burnt into his eyes. It was cold and yet the mist was burning him like he was sliding on winter ice.
"Mama!" he cried, holding his arms against the assault of the horrible words, "Papa! Where are you?"
Covering his ears, he fell to his knees, sobbing loudly for his parents.
"Hi!" a small hand met his shoulder. It was still insanely cold but the warmth in the voice made him open his eyes, "What's your name?"
"M...My name is Gideon..." he mumbled back shyly, brushing his hair back effeminately.
"Wow, your hair is so pretty," the female child touched his hair, "Like roses."
"T-Thank you," Gideon smiled, the mist breaking apart into golden beams of sunshine as a lovely garden surrounded them as groups of children surrounded what appeared to be an orphanage.
"I'm gonna have a tea party with my dollies," the girl began sweetly, "Would you like to join us?"
"S-sure!" Gideon smiled, "I'd love too!"
"C'mon then!" the girl smiled sweetly, gently taking his hand and skipping to a small picnic area by the daisies and lilies.
On the blanket several small dolls sat with little porcelain tea cups in front of them with a small tea pot in the middle next to small plate of what appeared to be small cakes. Gideon gasped enthusiastically.
"Oh wow!" he giggled "This is all wonderful!"
The next thing he knew he was running around with some of the other girls, giggling and panting for air in a most playful matter as they played a game of tag. His wish had come true, he was surrounded by the red autumn in streaks of mother nature's femininity. He had finally been relinquished from fate's cruel grip...Or so he thought. That mist returned though as an invisible ghost of truth. The wind pulled the skirt up, covering his feminine face and narrow waist to reveal the disgust of his form. He heard a sharp scream of surprise before laughter filled the air around him. Blushing, he pushed the skirt down, squeezing his eyes shut. He could feel the stares he was receiving from some of the children, though most seemed to have their eyes closed as they howled in laughter. Tears formed in his eyes before he turned and ran away, sobbing in embarrassment and shame.
Next thing he knew he was in a corner, crying and forced into clothes that suited his gender. He hated it, the sleeves that suffocated his arms and collarbone and the belt that was keeping away the feminine narrowness of his waist. He hated it...Then applause, so much applause...He's singing, he's older...In a tutu! He's wearing the prettiest cosmetics with his fairly lengthwise, red hair up with clips and such fit for a woman. His body leaner and more shapely; a toned feminine form outlined by the pink of his uniform. A high voice, his own, a soprano-singing away the composition! The mist had dwelt away somewhere; in the ground but it had suddenly flipped over. He's dancing over it, dancing over the lies it held; dancing to a ballet and singing a coloratura's aria. He awed at his own beauty. Was this really him?
Unfortunately, it seemed it might not last...In the background, was the image of a very angry looking dancer. She hated how beautiful he was for a man, hated how his body could flex and stretch through destiny's grip. Roses and lilies are all around him; beautiful flowers smashed the mist into wisps of fading smoke. He blew the audience a kiss, picking the flowers up. They don't care for his gender, he's so beautiful on the floor; his body, his ballet, his voice-unbelievably feminine. After surviving a plethora of applause and praise he headed back to his room in the backstage area of the Opera house, another following him.
"How can a MAN be so beautiful?" an angry, feminine voice rose, "I was the most beautiful before you ever came!"
He turned to her, as she entered his dressing room, glaring at him hatefully.
"I'm sorry..." he murmured almost nonchalantly, "Have I done something wrong?"
"You're NOT a woman! How can you be like one or even sound like one!" she raised a knife, charging at him, "Disgrace!"
He's frozen, the knife pushes into his chest and the flowers turn to mist. They crawl into him like thorns as the serrated edge leaves his chest. He's trembling, gasping for breath as the mist suffocates him in boughs of blue. The knives are inside him now and cutting away at the feminine body he had worked so hard to tone; the muscle memory frozen in shock and his ballet coming to a suddenly halt as his singing turns to screams. His creamy white skin suddenly frosted with death and his olive eyes glazed over with tears. Fate had come back for him again and the chains were dragging him down in the costume of his soul until he was naked.
Then suddenly there is light, a ribbon with pictures of his life bursting from his chest with others surrounding in twists and twirls. He's still but yet he's dancing, his life singing as he suddenly becomes animated. He's lost in the blackness of death and yet he's alive; the blood is still gushing out of his flat chest in a most animated way. Pressure is on his chest, a black jacket covering the bleeding orifice. He vaguely thought he saw someone standing over him. Cold green eyes glare at him behind glasses that are pushed up on his face. After a moment, he felt the pressure grow heavier on his chest. He coughed once or twice before blearily looking up at the figure.
"Wh-Who...are you..." he groaned.
"You're no normal human, Gideon Rozchek," the figure stated in a quite professional manner, "I can save you if you're willing to become what I am; give in to that power that was misplaced within you."
"What...is...that?" Gideon coughed up blood.
"A shinigami," the name was whispered, "Are you willing to have another chance at life?"
He looked up into this man's eyes, enchanted with their cold beauty. Shakily, he nodded.
"P-Please..." he panted, "G-Give me another chance at life..."
The man nodded and stood, leaving his now blood sodden jacket over Gideon's hemorrhaging breastbone.
"You must leave behind your old life," he instructed as though nothing were happening, "You may choose a new name for yourself or you can have one issued to you."
"A-Am I still dying?" Gideon breathed weakly, "What are you talking about?"
"Will you leave your life behind and take a new name?" the figured demanded.
"Y-yes..." Gideon shook, terribly cold because of the blood loss. The shinigami's cold, olive eyes were so beautiful; it sucked the pain from his injury. Destiny had given him a new choice; choose the fate of others. It was twisted and horrifically beautiful. He could see it in his savior's eyes; cold and swaying the warmth of mortality away.
"What will it be?" the figure asked.
"G-Grell..." Gideon shivered, his eyes closing as the figure clipped away at his mortal life, "Grell...Sutcliffe..."
That was the last breath he ever enjoyed as a mortal and oh how he savored it. His savior breathed a new life into him. The moment his eyes opened he could see himself graduating with very few students; the man-whose name he knew as William T. Spears, sitting in the audience with a rather satisfied look on his face. After the ceremony, Grell ran to William and embraced him happily. He'd been informed that he'd be working under the man who'd given him this wonderful new life.
William didn't come home that night though, as usual Grell put on his tutu and warmed his voice up. He did this a few time a week; unable to relinquish his old need for womanhood. He felt ancient staring in that mirror without ever expressing it...As a shinigami his muscle memory would always remain; his voice unchanging and his body as well-never would they release the memories and work imbued into them. Then, an hour into his exercise of womanhood his high notes pinched into a squeak as his mentor stood in the doorway.
"Why are you wearing a pink tutu, Sutcliffe?" he sounded stoic, and yet so very frightening.
"Eh...Gomen, William..." Grell pouted cutely, "I was practicing...I so love dancing and dressing like this...I'll go change..."
His superior grabbed his arm, looking him over in a bit of awe, "Y-you look very..."
The tone of his voice was so different, "Feminine...Your skin too, it's abnormally soft and smooth-hairless even...I never realized."
"Are you okay?" Grell cupped his cheek, "You look paler..."
He sighed as he placed his hand on Grell's, enjoying the feel of his subordinate's soft skin.
"Grell..." he breathed, closing his eyes as he breathed in the scent of cheap perfume. Grell shivered as William's lips met his wrist, tracing the soft flesh as they ventured downward to his elbow. The younger pulled back a bit with a deep blush.
"W-William..." he began to shiver as his mentor pulled him closer, his free arm tracing the abnormally curved lines of his sides. Will cupped his cheek, gazing down at him breathlessly. The younger was frozen completely as his lips were joined with his savior's in a kiss. He fought slightly, the shock was intense but he relaxed into his superior's embrace. He didn't even mind that William was groping his feminine features; his ability to feel was set on his lips. He shivered, leaning up into the kiss and moaning a little. His superior pulled away suddenly, panting slightly as he sat down on the bed and pulling Grell into his lap. He traced his soft throat before allowing his lips to assault the blushing flesh as he slowly pulled the leotard and tutu down a bit.
"Pink truly suits you," William sounded so relaxed, "I take it you're a virgin then."
Grell blushed, "Yes, I'm a virgin..."
William looked up at him, licking his lips as he began suckling on his subordinate's neck.
"Ah...W-William!" Grell cried, shivering at the intimacy, "Wh-What are you doing?"
He gasped as the teeth broke the skin somewhat.
"I'm sleeping with you tonight," he smirked somewhat, pulling the leotard away just enough to see his subordinate's lean chest, "When I first saw you I could've mistaken you for a woman..."
He laid his subordinate down on the bed, eyes studying him as he peeled away the rest of the tutu and leotard. Grell blushed, covering himself.
"I refuse to let anyone else take what I have made," Grell shivered at the domineering tone. The red head whimpered in fear as he tried to struggle.
"P-Please, Will!" he cried, "Please, don't do this!"
"Shhh..." William held finger to lips, "Just try to relax Grell."
"Don't..." the next thing he knew his superior was holding his hips in place in his lap. He struggled slightly as his superior positioned him, "I don't know if I can...Please..."
He was crying at this point as his body shook in anticipation of what to come. William had taken the strange and painful pleasure of-partially-preparing him for this. His head sobbing and moaning as it lulled about in the nightmarish reverie of what was to come.
"Just try and relax," William kissed along his jaw before slamming him around his member.
Grell didn't know whether to scream or moan as he clenched his savior in the most intimate embrace, he gasped-clawing and scrapping at his superior's shoulders as the masochist in him awoke while he became a puppet in his master's lap. It felt so fulfilling yet as if he was being torn down the middle. He moaned as Will shoved him down onto the bed, thrusting harder and faster.
"Grell..." his superior moaned, not minding the blood that began to lubricate his subordinate's passage further, "Relax..."
The next buck was particularly harsh, driving the younger to scream his twisted pleasure into the night; a whore's moan.
"Ah...William!" he cried, tears ravaging his face as his operatic voice ravaged the room with shrill moans like the whisper of a knife slicing through the cold, winter air, "Come..."
Gritting his teeth, William let go with one final, almost violent thrust that wrought forth another shrill cry from the red head beneath him. Grell found himself feeling that wonderful release as well as he clutched the sheets tightly; his knuckles turning white as he squeezed his eyes shut. Lavishing in the muscles cleaving his love so close and the blood consecrating it he released, warmth filling him and leaving him.
"You are mine," William spoke blatantly as he pulled away; blood has trickled down the back of Grell's thighs and a twisted grin laid upon the younger's face. Yet he was shaking horribly, his body hadn't wanted it to be so sudden. Grell panted heavily as Will lay beside him, pulling his subordinate close to him.
"A-are we lovers now?" Grell asked softly, tracing circles on William's chest while his superior rubbed his back lightly. William paused in thought before glancing at him.
"Yes..." he breathed, removing the red head's glasses and setting them on the nightstand before removing his own, "I suppose we are, lovers..."
"I love you, William," yet even in his new life the mist returned; hardening the callous warmth in his savior's eyes. As the years passed they became too different-too opposite. The mirror that Grell's reflection loved to lavish in became ravished and old with dust. They drifted apart; Grell professed in playful promiscuity-innocent little flirts and games that abated the need for affection in him. It was affection his superior could not give and how William began to hate it. He dominated the red-head and when Grell left William he felt something pull at his heart; he craved love and acceptance for who he was.
That didn't stop William however-protesting the over the move and professing in the physical intimacy. There wasn't romance any more-neither knew it could exist and neither wanted to accept it. The masochist in Grell vibrated like the serrated edges of his scythe; the weapon that had carved the affliction down to its most profound and red depths. That's how he wanted it to be...The mist struck again and blew him into the same house it started in; it's cold and terribly suffocating. He tries to remember he doesn't need to breathe but it's suffocating him...He blows his cover and they recognize him in their dying moments amongst the flames that have engulfed their home.
"S-son?" Grell snapped from the mist, the crimson flames dancing like sprites on his scythe. He screamed in anguish as he slashed the two of them, ignoring their magic plays. He's slashing until the flames are doused by their blood; he's singing Opera and screaming and moaning as he is bathed in it.
"Sutcliffe!" Grell didn't pause, crying and screaming as he splashes and slashes until their corpses are in shreds. Their blood baptizing him in his fate, in his new life...In the years they wasted abandoning him. It had been taken back; the vibration of his scythe colliding with their bones the backdrop with the crisp staccato of the flames and his dramatic legatos.
"Sutcliffe!" fire, at least what's left of it, is reflected in William's eyes...Mist...Suffocation...He's alone again...He feels so full and yet torn apart and empty...Nothing...
"Grell!" Will's voice cried, echoing in his mind, "Grell!"
"Grell...! Grell...!" the voice was changing, becoming softer and gentler, "Grell!"
Grell gasped as he bolted upright, panting heavily.
"Grell," Seba hugged him tight, "Are you okay? You're crying..."
"I'm not alone?" Grell wept, looking around hysterically as his tears became more abundant.
"Of course not," Seba solaced, pulling away to look him in the eyes, "You're here with me. Are you alright?"
"Oh Sebby," he sniffled, "I-I keep having this horrible dream...When things are right this horrible blue and black mist comes and tears it up...It takes me back to my childhood...I'm haunted by it..."
He wept harder, "I was never wanted as a child..."
"What?" Seba gasped, "How awful...Why weren't you wanted?"
"B-Because...I-I wanted-I acted...Like a girl..." Grell sniffled.
"H-how terrible!" Seba held him close and rubbed his back, "Will you tell me about it?"
"W-Well...At the beginning of the dream...I'm running inside looking for my mother..." Grell explained as he pulled away, staring down at his lap, "And I hear her arguing with my father...He's yelling about how I'm such a disappointment to him because of the way I am..."
"How horrible..." Seba pouted.
"And then...I'm at an orphanage...I was happy there for a bit until a fateful breeze lifted my skirt up..." Grell sniffled, "I was a disgrace and I ran away from that place after being ridiculed...But then...I-I was a ballerina...An Opera singer..."
He smiled a bit.
"Everyone loved me..." he breathed, "Everyone thought I was so beautiful."
He sighed, his smile faltering.
"Well...ALMOST everyone..." he murmured.
"What happened?" Seba urged him to keep going.
"Another dancer...She was jealous...Stabbed me here..." Grell whimpered as he rubbed his chest, "And I died..."
"Grell?" Seba inquired softly, "I'm confused..."
"I haven't been honest Sebby..." Grell sniffled, "I was human once...I had a human name-Gideon Rozchek...I never told you about it...It was on Earth I became a ballerina and singer...I was taken into the Opera House after running away from that horrible orphanage...Does Sebby hate me now because I lied?"
He wept a bit harder, "I just hate the past so much..."
Seba frowned as he hugged him tight.
"I could never hate my Grell-kun," he breathed, "Grell's had it so rough...It's no wonder you'd want to hide all that...It's all so sad."
Grell sniffled, "Thank you...Sebby...I'm so glad I'm not a human anymore...So I can be with you now."
Seba glanced up at him curiously, "H-How did you become a shinigami?"
Grell paused, blushing a bit, "T-That's the next part..."
"What happened?" Seba asked, furrowing his brow.
"As I was dying...I saw William," Grell explained, "He offered me another chance at life. Oh, Sebby, he took pity on me and made me a shinigami...I was so grateful to him...So happy...but...once again, that wasn't to last."
"What do you mean?" Seba gasped, "Did something happen between you two?"
"O-One night...Well...I just couldn't leave myself behind to the dead. When William wasn't home I shirked my studies for a bit and practice ballet and voice. H-he caught me one night though," Grell blushed a bit, "H-He wasn't angry-it was kind of scary how...Feeling...his voice sounded. He looked as if in daze when he saw me in the pink tutu, saying how I looked so feminine in it and so..."
The blush grew deeper, "...Virgin..."
Seba shifted somewhat uncomfortably, "D-did he hurt you?"
Grell nodded sadly.
"I mean, I really did enjoy it at the time..." he shrugged, "But William didn't hold back when he took me...He mad me bleed so badly...What's worse is that he even told me after it was over that we were lovers...Obviously, he lied..."
Grell took a shuddering breath, "As time lapsed by...We grew apart...He became entangled in that coldness I had fallen for. He wanted it to consume me...But...I couldn't; I was still warm inside like fresh blood...After so long I left him and was on my own. I liked it; I was free to goof off with my cohorts and such. William was still rather insistent I was still his even if not in the workplace...I think he might've been jealous about my promiscuity...He stopped after a while..."
He kissed Seba's cheek, "After I met you...I think he finally realized I don't love him like that anymore...He hasn't bothered me since."
Seba blushed, "W-what happened next?"
Grell paused, "William gave me an assignment...That drove me mad...It was the first time he ever punished me for insubordination...It might've been revenge for my leaving him..."
"W-What was the assignment?" Seba asked uneasily.
"I...I had to reap my mom and dad..." Grell sniffled.
Seba gasped.
"How awful!" he pouted, "What happened?"
"I-I went crazy...The home I grew up was consumed in flames and I let them see me...My father-the father who hated me called me "son!" They recognized me Sebby...I slashed them up...Not even bothering to reap their souls...There was so much blood," Grell sniffled, "I fell in love with the color red that day; it made everything so beautiful; the flames, the blood...My hair...I felt so complete and yet as if I had been torn in half...Like, I had gone half-way to happiness...William stopped me though when their bodies were no longer recognizable..."
Seba pouted and embraced him, nuzzling him.
"Poor Grell-kun..." he breathed, "That's so sad..."
"I just don't know why the dream keeps occurring..." Grell sniffled, "Is Sebby going to leave me? Is that why this dream keeps reoccurring?"
Seba's eyes widened in surprise.
"Leave you?" he gasped, "I'd NEVER!"
He nuzzled the shinigami affectionately.
"I love you..." he breathed, "I know what it's like to be abandoned too...I would never to that to you after all that's happened..."
Grell smiled a bit and returned the embrace softly, "Thank you, Sebast..."
He paused, "You never really did tell me what happened to your mommy and daddy...Will Sebby tell me so he can get it off of his chest?"
Seba frowned.
"It was more or less the same..." he shrugged, "They didn't love me anymore so they abandoned me...I was probably about seven years old...or younger...I don't really remember...I mostly remember being in the monastery with Nancy..."
Grell nuzzled him, "I won't ever leave you, I'll always be there for Sebby like the moon to the sea. Even if you can't see me I'll keep you moving."
Seba blushed a bit as the shinigami kissed his cheek. With a content sigh, Grell lay besides Seba, keeping him close.
"I love my Sebby..." he sighed happily.
Seba giggled, "I love my Grell."
Grell squealed excitedly.
"Ah, Sebby!" he cried, hugging him tight, "I so love hearing you say that!"
Seba giggled and nuzzled him, "That's why I keep saying it; because I love hearing you say that you love me saying 'I love you'."
Grell sighed happily as he curled up next to Seba.
"Ah...Sebby..." he sighed, nuzzling him and kissing his cheek.
"My moonlight," Grell smiled, closing his eyes to enjoy a sweet dream, "How you bring light to the darkness in my head."
