#grelle sutcliffe fluff

[sleepingdeath-light]

female s/o with tattoos hcs ; reapers

requested by ; anonymous (22/03/23)

fandom(s) ; black butler

fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | reapers | antagonists

character(s) ; grelle sutcliffe, ronald knox, undertaker, william t. spears

outline ; “Heyy!

Bit of an odd one, but can I request how the Kuroshitsuji reapers (including Undertaker) would react to being introduced to a a heavily tattooed woman? As I know Victorian England was an extremely different time, especially when it came to general appearance!”

warning(s) ; none, just fluff!

grelle sutcliffe

first of all, grelle thinks your tattoos are hot as hell and the second she notices them she’s all but begging you (in her typical dramatic fashion) to show her each and every one

wants to know the stories behind each illustration, or if there isn’t one then just the thought process that led to you getting each picture inked permanently on your skin — and she’s a very active listener, asking questions, nodding her head, following where you’re pointing with her eyes, and so on, so you never have to worry about maybe boring her with your explanations because it’s very obvious that she’s invested in what you’re saying

oscillates between eagerly begging you to get a matching tattoo with her and fretting about whether or not she’d actually suit one — she’s very particular about her appearance after all and for as breathtakingly attractive as she finds you with your tattoos, she just isn’t quite sure whether they would look good on her

… but at the same time she just really loves the idea of having a matching permanent brand that shows everyone that the two of you belong with and to each other

oh the duality of woman

ronald knox

initially caught quite off guard because, naturally, you’re the first person he’s met that’s basically covered with tattoos — likes he’s seen and reaped people with one or two in the past, but you’re a whole other story and he thinks you look so fucking cool because of it

like grelle, he wants to know everything about your tattoos and he’s just as active of a listener — getting visibly invested in each of your stories, wincing sympathetically when you recall how much some of your more difficult pieces hurt, interjecting with questions here and there in a way that would be annoying if he wasn’t so earnest about wanting to learn, and even offering to help you plan out the style and placement of your next tattoo

really wants one of his own — something small but that just screams him — but because of the whole being dead thing, and because of how strict the dress code is for reapers, he unfortunately can’t get any tattoos… doesn’t stop him from discussing his plans with you though

(you will absolutely catch him staring at your tattoos and tracing them with the tip of his finger when you’re in bed together or when you’ve just come out of the shower… he just thinks they look nice, that’s all…)

undertaker

undertaker is actually pretty neutral about your tattoos — after all, it’s not like he lives the most traditional life either so who is he to comment on the choices you’ve made — but also isn’t afraid to let you know which of the pieces is his personal favourite

if you have any animals tattooed on you then he’s going to give them names… and yes they will be intentionally stupid as hell, even if the pictures themselves are intended to appear less cute and more intimidating or freaky — and he’s got a good memory so even years down the line he will still be calling them all the same names he gave them when you met

wouldn’t show it outwardly, but would be so very touched if you asked him to help you design your next tattoo — especially if it’s going to be in a very visible place. the idea of you wanting to basically be branded by something of his is just incredibly sweet to him and only endears you to him more

to calm himself down after a particularly rough nightmare, he’ll lay on his side and trace the inked patterns on your skin while watching you breathe — assuring himself that you’re still there, you’re still alive, and that you’re still his. and he can easily spend hours at a time tracing each and every one of your tattoos… it’s just so soothing!

william t. spears

extremely shocked by your appearance because of just how uncommon it is for him to see anyone with any number of tattoos in his line of work — hell he can’t even recall off the top of his head the last soul he reaped that had just one, let alone the number that you have — but that initial surprise is about all the reaction you’re going to get out of william

wouldn’t ask about any of them unless one particular illustration really caught his interest — such as a plant he happens to be very familiar with — but he will quietly listen to you if you want someone to rant to about your latest piece or the intricate details of the other tattoos you have… not really an active listener to the same extent as ronald or grelle but he will chime in where appropriate with an ‘interesting’ or ‘really’ or ‘what made you go for that, exactly?’

is quick to shut down anyone who tries to be rude to you because of your visible tattoos, doing so in his typical straight-forward fashion which never fails to leave the other person feeling mortified and ashamed to the point where all they can do is apologise to you both and leave

if you get any new tattoos during your relationship you can guarantee that william will be very intense about your recovery and following all of the advice given to you by your tattoo artist — like there is zero chance of you being allowed to slack off or getting away with scratching at any itches near the new piece until it is 100% healed

[jinisnuggets]

༊*·˚ 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖗 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖉

INCLUDES | Ciel, Sebastian, Grell, Undertaker, Alois, Vincent,

READER | Gn

GENRE | Fluff, Headcanons

WARNINGS | Mention of the word seductive in a non suggestive way

WORD COUNT | 0.3k (50ish per character)

A/N | Is there any other character from Black Butler who'd you like me to add to these headcanons? Please let me know :D

🪻 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖌

Sebastian

He's the loving type and there's nothing you can do to convince me otherwise. Despite being a demon, he'll make sure you're his queen and he's only ever doing what you ask of him. Of course, due to his personality, he'd absolutely love to tease you, but it's more of a love language for him.

Undertaker

His way of showing affection is far more seductive; teasing you often with heart-fluttering jokes and close proximity. He knows the best ways to edge you on and it's really what he wants, however when you do the same he'd tend to get more intimate (in a fluffy way).

Vincent

This man knows he's attractive and what's the least he can do than shower his S/O with gifts and love. He knows his partner's interests and likes, so it's quite simple to pick out good and high quality gifts, and although it isn't common, he doesn't mind physical affection such as hugs or kisses.

🪻 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖉

Ciel

What more can you expect from our tsundere king. Ciel isn't the best at expressing his emotions and because of it, it often causes him to come off as cold to his S/O.. however, he is an easily flustered boy, who will definitely become flushed in blush if his partner is just one step too close. He will often buy his partner gifts though.

Alois

He's been through a lot, so he doesn't enjoy the company of someone more than that of his S/O. Now, Alois is a great lover, fight the wall; but he's also quite clingy, and that is mainly because of his fear to lose yet another important person to him, so he'd often have nightmares where he'd need to cuddle up in between your arms.

🪻 𝕭𝖔𝖙𝖍

Grell

There's no need to say, they'd shower you with complements and absolutely die when you do the same. Their affection has no limit and they're willing to sacrifice absolutely anything for you, and of course, they love it when you show the same level of care and sincerity for them.

[bomber-grl]

Grell Sutcliff Dating Hc! —☆⋆｡𖦹🖇️

Pairing(s): Grell Sutcliff x Gn!Reader

Disclaimer! I’ve only watched the anime and I’m semi aware of how she’s mischaracterized (according to others(?)) in it in comparison to the manga. So, these hc are solely based on the anime

We’ve seen how she is when she’s interested in someone and so just imagine her in an actual relationship 💀

She’s constantly fonding over you at minimum and spouting profanities you’d rather not have to hear again at most

I mean the fact you’re together is obviously because you matched her freak

Anyway, the more surface level of her personality is her constant coddling, hugs, and overall lovey dovey self

If anything it’s just her reaction to hot people which i can’t even blame😭

Now, if you’re more shy leaning Grell thinks you’re so cute

The urge to trap you in a bone crushing hug deepens immensely

However, if you’re more bold and straightforward she’ll really play into it

Again, everyone just disregards when she’s like this so she really falls head over heels x 2

And if you pick her up? Deceased x2

Obviously she’s glad to have you around for practically forever if you’re a divine being but if you’re human

The angst 😭

You’re the first person she’s every genuinely connected with and felt understood by

Especially with her identity

So I imagine you dying had crossed her mind a few times before but the thought was too painful to ever actually continue thinking it

So the day that she saw your name amongst the people she had to kill- two words

Mental breakdown

Either you choose to die by her hand or kys to become a grim reaper, literally the only solutions

It’s like that one audio where it’s like “bye Abby, I’ll see you when you wake up, and if you don’t wake up, I’ll still see you cause I’m gonna meet you in heaven or whatever

Sorry I just realized these are supposed to be relationship hc and not so gruesome 😭

Anyway, regardless of your race (?) Your relationship is still very much existent and there’s nothing grell or you could do about it

I mean I mighttt be going boarderline ooc like the the far depths sort of level but if you’re in a committed relationship and anyone alludes to you trying to leave her

Let’s just say we hope they don’t or she’ll be extra possessive to a crazy extent💀

Also if you’re constantly surrounding yourself with grell then you’re bound to interact with Ciel and his lot

So what I’m trying to say is, you’re like that one stereotypical couple with over the top PDA where it’s sickening to them

Also if you don’t like it (pda) she’ll be a bit sad but she’ll try to respect it

Now if you’re a romantic she’s constantly happy

Especially when you go out on a picnic, get her nice things and do silly things like carry her

Despite these “happier” moments there’s eventual solemn topics (like her death) that she talks about with you

I mean she’s sharing personal things with someone she trusts but it’s still nervwrecking

Also, you Can’t tell me Grell wouldn’t absolutely defend you with her life(?)

Even if it ends with her being trampled 💀

[blondeaxolotl]

Ugly crying.... Since they both shed like crazy you can tell when they missed eachother because they'll walk into the room with the fur from the other on them.....

[catbread0]

How does grell like to give and receive affection?

Grell Sutcliff x Fem!Reader

Since you didn't specifically say what gender you wanted the reader to be, I made it a fem reader. If that's not what you wanted, please forgive me. Sorry for the grammar mistakes. I hope you like it

( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

Words: 992

Pure Fluff ♡♡♡

Blck Butler Masterlist

Headcanons: How she likes to receive and give affection

Giving affection:

- Grell would spend time going shopping with you. Both you and Grell would go shopping for clothes and makeup, which could last for hours, and she would give her compliments on everything you try on.

“Darling, that dress would go together with these heels better. If grim rippers could die, I think I would do so again by just looking at you.”

- Grell would love to talk about gossip while painting nails with you. 

“Apparently, Bassy's type is women who have large baps! I mean, that's so typical of men to look for in a woman, but REALLY? I mean, do men not look into anything else other than that- Oh hun your nail is chipped. What did I tell you about being careful with your nails?”

- When she would come home from working for hours, she would run up to you and cling to you as if she hadn't seen you in years. She would also spend hours cuddling with you.

“It feels dreadfully boring when I'm not with you. Especially when I have to look at people's boring records, it's always the same boring things with them, waking up, going to work, then going home, sleeping, and repeating. It doesn't help that Williams is extremely strict, always being rude to me as well.”

- Grell would give you kisses almost every time she sees you. In private or public, it doesn't matter to her. Bonus points to her if she makes you flustered in public.

“Would you mind doing that in private?” - Williams

- Grell would give you pet names

“My Rose” “Hun” “Darling” “Dear”

Receiving affection:

-You saw Grell eyeing a pair of heels through the glass of a famous shoe company. So the next day, while she was at work, you decided to buy the shoes and wrap the box into a gift.

“My Rose, I'm home! Oh? What's this, Darling?”

You chuckle, “It's for you, Love. Why don't you open it?”

“Oh you shouldn’t have dear, why just coming home- Oh my! These are the heels I wanted! How romantic of you, dear! You know how to capture a lady’s heart!” (She would probably then launch herself towards you and give you kisses all over your face.)

- While Grell loves giving physical affection to you, she also loves to receive it back. One day, she would be on a walk with you and talking about gossip or maybe about someone's record when all of a sudden she felt your lips on her cheek.

“And I said-” She stops walking dead on her track and looks at you,

“Oh, Darling, would you do that again, please, I love how your lips felt on my cheek! Why not a kiss on the lips this time!”

- While Grell loves being bought gifts, she also loves it when you give her a handmade gift. 

She was going to grab her death scythe. She saw a small key chain hanging on the handle. She looked closely, and it was a small rose. 

“Oh, my heart can’t take it, my Love. Receiving gifts from your heart can kill a woman in an instant. When I look at this key chain, I will always think of my Rose.”

-Grell cherishes and enjoys your compliments towards her. Whether it's her perfume, clothing, makeup, hairstyle, etc. She puts in a lot of effort when it comes to her looks, so when she hears you compliment her, she feels as if someone finally appreciates her efforts (she would crave more from you). 

“My goodness darling, if you keep complimenting me, I think my knees would melt from your sweet words. But continue, tell me what else you like about me today.”

In the end, she loves you to death♡

~Lilly's

[eijisnotebook]

Best friend! Grelle Sutcliffe x Depressed!GN! Reader <3

I just like her a lot and I think she's beautiful, so here's a oneshot I wrote about her!

⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+(This is also written on my Wattpad, the first chapter of my Grelle one shots book)｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+⁠*⁠.⁠✧—⁠☆

The world feels like it’s drained of color, like someone turned down the vibrancy of everything around you. You sit alone in your small, dimly lit apartment, staring at the patterns of light and shadow dancing across the walls as the sun sets outside. There’s an ache in your chest, a heavy weight that makes it hard to breathe, let alone smile.

A sudden, loud knock at the door startles you. You hesitate, wondering if you can find the energy to respond. But the knock comes again, this time followed by an unmistakable voice,

"Oh, darling, don’t leave me waiting out here! I might faint from the indignity!”

You can’t help the small, reluctant smile that tugs at your lips as you stand and head to the door, opening it to reveal Grelle Sutcliffe in all her flashy, bold glory. Her red coat, vibrant hair, and crimson lipstick make her look like she’s stepped out of another world and brought its color with her.

Without waiting for an invitation, Grelle steps inside, her sharp eyes immediately taking in the state of your apartment—and of you. She softens instantly, closing the door behind her with an unusually gentle touch. “Oh, darling,” she murmurs, her gaze tender. “You look like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

You sigh, feeling exhaustion settle deeper into your bones. “It… feels like that,” you admit quietly, not meeting her eyes.

In a rare moment of silence, Grelle reaches out, pulling you into a warm, unexpected hug. She smells like roses and something deeper, like the warmth of a bonfire. She holds you tight, letting you simply exist in that comforting embrace.

After a moment, she pulls back, one hand lingering on your shoulder as she looks you over with a look of fierce protectiveness. “You know, I have impeccable taste, and I choose my friends wisely,” she says with a small smile. “Which means I can say, without a doubt, that you’re magnificent—even if you can’t see it right now."

Her words cut through the fog surrounding you, and something in her expression tells you she’s not just saying this out of kindness. She means every word.

Grelle grabs your hand, her eyes twinkling with the glimmer of an idea. “Come with me, love. Just for a little while. Let me show you a piece of the world through my eyes.”

Before you can protest, she’s pulling you out of the apartment and down the street. You find yourself weaving through the city, her presence beside you a steady anchor. She chats with you about anything and everything—distracting you with wild stories, dramatic commentary, and sly jokes that actually pull a few reluctant laughs from you.

At some point, you end up on a bridge overlooking the city lights, and Grelle leans over the edge, a grin spreading across her face. “Look at this, darling! All these lights, all this life. You’re a part of this world, and it’s lucky to have you.” Her eyes glimmer as she looks at you. “I’m lucky to have you.”

For a moment, the heavy weight inside you feels lighter, like Grelle has managed to lift it a little with her presence alone. She turns to you with a mischievous smile, her eyes filled with that infectious spark of life.

“So, here’s what we’re going to do. Tomorrow, I’m coming back, and we’ll do this all over again. I’ll be your annoying, fabulous best friend, and you’ll have to put up with it.” She winks. “Who knows? Maybe tomorrow i can help you see a little bit of what I see in you.”

You can’t help but smile, a real one this time, small but genuine. And as you look at Grelle, standing there in the glow of the city lights, you realize that maybe—just maybe—things won’t always feel so heavy.

And as she pulls you into another fierce hug, you feel that sliver of hope settle in your chest, thanks to the friend who refuses to let you be anything less than cherished.

[grellsutcliffno1fan]

can you write um redcliff and where where they are umm umm uh OH WHERE theyre like. madam comes home after a rough day of work and grelle comforts her a/o takes care of her :revolving_hearts: pleas

Of course! I definitely need to write more redcliff so on this day I will grace your feed with a fluffy redcliff ficlet.

But You Still Have All of Me

Pairing: Redcliff // Rating: General // Word count: 901

Anyone who worked in healthcare would tell you, early nights were something you sacrificed when you took the Hippocratic Oath. Angelina Dalles could attest to this much. 

Weariness had long since settled into her bones by the time she stepped out from her coach. She could feel the weight of the day pulling at her face, her pores. She yearned to strip herself from her dirtied uniform and cozy up in her drawing room in her most delicate wrapper, the fire blazing beside her and a glass of bordeaux in hand.

She was already halfway through undoing the tie at the back of her bloodied apron as she stepped through the threshold into her townhome. Being the widow of a Baron, she kept an estate in the countryside–as most nobility did–but she hadn’t returned to the manorhome there in quite some time, not when her work kept her in the city. The door was held ajar by a footman, whom she did not care to acknowledge, nor recall the name of.

Her apron was hung on a hook by the door to be fetched by the laundry maid in the morning, to be bleached and starched for the following day’s labour. She had set about toeing off her work boots and slipping into lounging slippers when she heard an oh-so familiar and beloved call from the staircase landing, capturing all of her attention in two shrill syllables.

“Angie!” 

Perhaps, to an outsider, who didn’t know any better, and only knew Grelle Sutcliff as Angelina’s faithful butler, this would be an appalling breach of appropriate conduct between mistress and servant. But to Angelina, Grelle was anything but a servant, a butler, and anything but a man.

She stood stooped over the staircase banister, in all her scarlet glory, human disguise forgone for her immortal glamour, long legged and longer hair still. The sight of her brought a smile to Angelina’s spent face. It didn’t dim, not even when she caught sight of crimson viscera splattered across her cheekbone. It made her all the more beautiful, all the more otherworldly, its shade stark against her pale skin, the ghost of poorly concealed freckles scattered over her nose-bridge.

As exhausted as she was, she found herself mustering what little energy she had to call back, “Grelle, darling! Busy evening?”

Grelle was at the base of the staircase but a moment later, helping Angelina back onto her feet once she had stepped into her slippers. “You know how it is, An, being in such a gory line of work.” She replied, her painted lips stretched wide around a smile that was too sharp and all teeth.

Her hands were warm around Angelina’s, still a stiff, pale white from the nip of the cool late-night air, but it was a warmth that quickly left them as she instead moved to cup her rosy cheeks. She tucked a few stray hairs behind the shell of Angelina’s ear, so much strength held within each gentle touch.

“You’ve had a longer day, I’m sure.” Grelle’s voice didn’t exactly do soft, but it was a damn-near thing. “I was just running a bath– I was sure you’d be home any minute.”

When she leaned in, there was a hint of amusement in her eye, a knowing look shared between them. “I’m supposed to be playing butler, no?”

Angelina allowed a tired chuckle to escape past her lips, “It’s not exactly a butler’s job to wait on his mistress. I have a lady’s maid for that matter.” She corrected, reminded at once of what station Grelle had held in life. Angelina, in contrast, had been born with a silver spoon in hand.

“Well, nevertheless, I thought it’d be nice to treat my lady to a warm soak after a long day of work. It’s the least I can do for the one I adore so.” Grelle insisted, dropping her hands to prob on her waist, cocking her hip, “I even had your maid show me where you keep all those fancy oils and perfumes of yours!”

“I’m sure that was very difficult for you.” Angelina shot back, allowing her tone to take on a playful hue. Grelle seized her hands once more, guiding her toward the staircase, and now that Angelina considered it, she could faintly smell a whiff of rosewater, even here, in the hallway.

“You’re more thoughtful than you’re given credit for, my darling.” Angelina murmured, allowing herself to be pulled along toward her ensuite bathroom, upon the second floor of the townhouse.

Grelle’s smile softened, ever so slightly, less vicious. “I wouldn’t call myself entirely selfless, I do intend on joining you to steep.” She was unabashed at the confession, though it made Angelina flush ever so slightly, but Grelle continued, “But I know your work is the grueling kind, and my beloved deserves a chance to relax after a tiring day. It is a butler’s job to take inventory of the cellar, and I even took it upon myself to select a vintage for the two of us to share.”

Angelina sighed, her eyes softening at the corners, her stomach swooping and heart swooning, “What would I do without you, my dear reaper?” She asked, not quite directed at Grelle, not quite expecting an answer.

Grelle laughed, a sweet giggle, lik the chime of a bell, “The real question is what would I do without you, An?”

[kywaslost]

Maternal Affections - Grell Sutcliff

A/N: When I tell you I slaved over this one, I SLAVED over this one! @idyllic-affections asked that someone write this for them, and I liked the idea so I decided to give it a shot. Usually, I knock out requests or ideas in one sitting, but this, this piece took DAYS. I worked on it every day for hours and ended up falling in love with this. I really hope yall like this one! And as a reminder, I haven’t read the manga yet so I’m sure there are things in this that aren’t canon at all.

Request:  fanfic writers, i NEED you all to write grell PLATONICALLY taking care of a young (16-18 kind of age range) non-binary reaper and being like a mother/big sister figure to them. just... her knowing what it's like. her knowing and truly understanding how much pain they were going through in life, how bad it must have been for someone as young as them to end up as a reaper. her making damn sure absolutely no-one treats them like that again because god knows grell is hard to handle normally; lord forbid someone genuinely piss her off. grell just taking a young lil non binary reaper under her wing, it would be so sweet.

Warnings: mentions of suicide, sh, drowning. Proceed with caution please <3

The line between reality and unconsciousness was such a blur you weren’t 100% sure you knew where you were. The last thing you could remember was sitting on the edge of the dock, looking out over the endless sea. Then the feeling of water flooding your lungs as you slowly lose consciousness. You remembered there being a warm breeze, but now you seemed to be cold. You couldn’t grasp your surroundings, floating in and out of consciousness.

Then there were voices. Your breathing stalled for only a moment, fearing you had been found before you could die. And that’s when you began assessing your physical state. You weren’t in any pain, not like you were before you lost consciousness. In fact, you felt just fine, as if you had only fallen asleep instead of attempting to take your own life. And you were lying down. Did you wash up on shore? Last you remembered, you were too far under the surface of the water to be seen.

“Well, good morning dear,” you heard someone say to your right. “You’re finally waking up!” 

You stilled, unsure you wanted to open your eyes just yet. You didn’t recognize the voice, and feared it was a nurse, or a doctor, that you’d open your eyes just to see a hospital room. 

“You can open your eyes, you know,” the voice spoke up again. 

You slowly opened your eyes, only to groan and close them again when you were met with a bright light. Blinking back the tears that formed from the light, you rubbed your eyes and sat upright. The room you're in didn’t look like a hospital room, which made you feel a bit better, until you realized you had no idea where you were, and the person beside you was a complete stranger.

They had bright red hair, dressed in extravagant red clothing. They sat in a cushioned armchair in the corner of the small room you were in. Their legs were crossed at the knees, and they smiled widely.

“Hello, darling.” There was a slight accent to their words.

“Where am I?” you groaned softly. Looking down, you saw a thin blanket covering your legs, and suddenly you were grateful for the fabric. You fiddled with the hem of the blanket as you asked, “Who are you?”

The stranger smiled even wider, bearing sharp, pointed teeth. “Why, I am the infamous Grell Stufliff, the most beautiful reaper around if I do say so myself.” The reaper flicked her long red hair over her shoulder, looking over to you. “Welcome to HQ. You’ll be spending a lot of time here, reviewing souls and whatnot.”

You were so lost and confused. You couldn’t believe what was going on. Surely this wasn’t true. Maybe you were hallucinating from lack of oxygen. Maybe you haven't died yet, but in the process of doing so. But why were you dry?

“You’re confused, that’s common,” Grell said, pushing up off of the chair. “Follow me, and I’ll explain.” She walked over to the door, turning her head to look at you over her shoulder. “Coming, dear?” Snapping out of your thoughts, you pulled the blanket off of your lap, tossing your legs over the side of the bed and lowering yourself to the floor. You had no shoes, like you remembered, and you could feel the cold linoleum floor through your socks. Stumbling to the door, you followed Grell out into the hall.

“Am-am I dead?” you asked hesitantly, pulling at the hems of your sleeves. Grell turned around, walking backwards in order to talk to you. 

“Well of course you are darling, how do you think you got here?” She smiled kindly, leading you into a busy room, crowded with people trying on different outfits, much like a clothing store. “This is where people go after they end their lives.” Grell beamed at the sight of red, gripping your hand suddenly to drag you over to them. “Now, first thing’s first, a uniform. Most reapers wear black, but really you are allowed to pick whatever you like.” She let go of your hand to flick through the various tops, taking one off the hook and holding it up to your shoulders. “Oh, red suits you so well, darling! Positively stunning!”

You cleared your throat nervously. “Um, I’d prefer a different top, please.” 

Grell frowned, but nodded understandingly. “Aw, alright. I’ll help you, and explain more about why you are here.” 

As Grell helped you look for a new outfit, she also explained why you were with her, as well as what you are now. She explained the purpose of reapers, what to expect on the job, and the works, such as death scythes and the death schedule. You didn’t say anything, just taking in her words as you tried on various articles of clothing. 

You didn’t understand how you could feel so calm. You’d think waking up in a strange place with an unknown ‘human’ beside you would freak you out, let alone finding out you’re now a supernatural being. But death does that to someone, you think. You already felt safer in this new environment than you did back when you were still living. 

It wasn’t until you were dressed in your new clothes and led back down the hall that Grell asked for your name.

“Oh, I’m such a terrible woman!” She shrieked dramatically, falling onto you as you walked beside her. You pushed her away quickly, uncomfortable with her touch. She was still a stranger. “I haven’t asked for your name!”

“Oh,” you said quietly, looking at the ground and shrugging. “Y/N. Y/N L/N.”

And it was now that Grell finally took in your appearance. Your slouched posture, as if you were trying to hide within yourself. You let your hair fall into your eyes, and avoided eye contact. You wouldn’t say much when you spoke, and had such a soft voice it was hard for ehr to hear you sometimes. It left her wondering how old you were.

She decided to back off a bit for the rest of the night, calming down in hopes of making you feel more comfortable. She helped you pick out the perfect pair of glasses, and even recommended death scythes. In the end, she had finished walking you through the beginning steps of becoming a reaper, and it was beginning to get late into the night. Grell was growing tired, and she could see that you were as well.

“Every reaper is assigned a trainee from time to time,” she explained, leading you to yet another unknown location. “So each reaper is assigned a housing unit with spare rooms for the trainees to stay until they become fully-trained.” Grell smiled as she pushed open another door and led you inside. “Welcome home! Mi casa es tu casa, as they say.” She opened yet another door, revealing a decently sized bed with a small closet, and even a desk tucked away in one corner. “This will be your room for the next few months. Make yourself at home!”

The next week passed too slowly for your liking. You learned more and more about becoming a reaper each day, and to be completely honest, you didn’t mind becoming a reaper. Sure, you were lonely, and it looked like a tedious job, but it seemed much better than the life you had when you were living. At least here, there was some understanding of pain between everyone.

You wouldn’t admit it, but having Grell by your side almost 24/7 really helped. She trained you hard. Enough to challenge you and leave you sore, but not enough to hurt you in any way. Every night, once you both returned home, she would make your dinner while you showered and changed into your night clothes.

One night, sleep eluded you. You layed in bed for hours, tossing and turning, but you just couldn’t seem to fall asleep. So you decided to get some fresh air. Grell’s apartment had a small balcony, with the entrance in the living room. So you snuck past Grell’s room, hearing her snores from the hall, as you slipped into the living room and out into the balcony. There wasn’t any furniture, so you settled in the corner, leaning your head against the railing.

Breathing in the fresh air, you closed your eyes, letting the gentle evening breeze caress your face. There was a slight chill in the air and you shivered, curling into a tight ball. 

“Darling, what are you doing out here?” You jumped, not hearing the balcony door slide open. Shooting your head up you saw Grell standing in the doorway, blanket draped over her shoulders and another one bundled in her arms. “Mind if I join you?”

You didn’t say anything, only moving your feet slightly so the reaper could sit across from you. She leaned over you, tucking her second blanket around you before sitting in front of you. She let you sit in silence for a moment before speaking again. “Is something troubling you, dear?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you muttered, pulling the blanket tighter around you. “I’m sorry.”

Grell smiled kindly. “There’s no need to be sorry, love. Would it make you feel better if I stayed with you?”

You thought for a moment, then nodded. “Please?”

“Of course, darling.” Grell took this moment to analyze you again. You looked so young compared to the other reapers-to-be, and you were so quiet. The more she thought about it, Grell realized that she really didn’t know much about you. She only really knew your name, not your age, or how you died, or what caused you to become a reaper. 

“How old were you?” Grell asked quietly, also leaning her head against the balcony railing. 

“Hm?” you hummed, raising your eyes to meet Grell’s bright green ones.

“When you died. How old were you?”

There was a moment of hesitation before you answered. “18. I was 18 when I died.”

Grell inhaled sharply. “Oh, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve to die so young.”

You shrugged, closing your eyes again. “I did. I deserved to die. But it’s ok, it’s nicer here.”

Grell placed a comforting hand on your knee. “No you didn’t. No one deserves to be pushed to kill themselves so young.” She received no response, and that’s when the reaper realized that you had fallen asleep. She sighed out of grief for you. She didn’t know how you died, or what pushed you to do so, but Grell had grown fond of you over the past week.

She could never have kids of her own, but she felt so protective over you in this moment, so motherly towards you. So much so that she carefully picked you up, carrying you back to your room and tucking you in. Stepping out only long enough to grab a pillow, Grell returned to your room, making a make-shift bed on the floor beside your sleeping form.

Two days later and you were running off of no sleep. You’d spent the last two nights staring at the ceiling, not daring to sneak back out onto the balcony. By the second day, Grell could notice that something wasn’t right. You were much quieter than usual, and your movements were growing sluggish.

The reaper quietly made two cups of warm tea, bringing them to your bedroom during the early hours of the morning. Knocking softly, Grell slowly opened your bedroom door. As soon as she entered your room, however, her heart sank. Your back was towards the door, but that didn’t stop her from hearing your quiet sobs as you cried into your pillow.

“Oh, darling,” she said quickly, rushing over to the bed. Grell lowered herself to sit on the bed by your hips, then placed the two mugs of tea on the nightstand. “It’s alright, dear. I’m here with you.” She rubbed your back gently as a means of comfort, letting you cry ‘til your heart’s content.

When your tears were reduced to soft hiccups and stuttered breaths, Grell spoke again. “What’s troubling you darling?” she asked softly. “You can talk to me, you know?”

You sniffled, moving so you were laying on your back. Grell brushed the hair from your eyes. You looked like you wanted to speak, but you wouldn’t say anything. With a sigh, you pulled your blanket up to your chin then sat up, leaning against the wall behind you. “I thought that once I die, I would be ok. I wouldn’t have sleepless nights or anything to worry about. I’d be dead.”

“Oh, love,” the reaper cooed. “I understand how you feel. I was once in your shoes. It’s hard to understand the supernatural world while also coping with memories of your past life.”

Tears welled in your eyes again but you refused to let them fall, wiping them away with your sleeve. “Haven’t I struggled enough? I mean, it was so bad I had to kill myself, wasn’t that enough?” You hid behind your hands as you began to cry again. “I suffered for so long, I just wanted it to end.”

Grell slid to sit beside you against the wall then wrapped her arms around you, pulling you against her chest. You let her hold you, stroking your hair and whispering comforting words into the crown of your head. She held you like she’d hold a small child afraid of the monsters under their bed. 

While rocking you back and forth slightly, your sleeves slid up just ever so slightly. Grell expected as much, the scars on your forearms showing just how much pain you were in in your past life. She had them too, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt her seeing your scars. When you noticed her green eyes staring at your arms, you quickly pulled your sleeves back down, crying harder.

“Honey, it’s alright,” she cooed. “You don’t have to hide them, I have them too.”

After what felt like years of crying, you lay against Grell and she ran a hand through your hair. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the fact you felt so comfortable with the reaper at the moment, you began telling your story. 

“Drowning,” you muttered into Grell’s shirt.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that dear?” she asked quietly. “I couldn’t hear you.”

You repeated, “Drowning. I drowned myself in the river.” Grell’s grip around you tightened. “I’ve always loved water. It’s so calm and I feel like everything will be ok. It’s a nice distraction. So I drowned myself so I could finally have peace.”

Grell was silent for a moment. “I know you may have talked about it when you were living, and it did nothing to help you, but you’re here now. Whatever, or whoever, hurt you is not here anymore. So if you’d like to talk about it, maybe you can finally put it behind you. And if you tell me, maybe I can help you, dear.”

You rubbed your eyes, putting your full weight against the red-head. You then proceeded to spend the next two hours spilling your life story to Grell. You told her about anything and everything, from how you were treated by the world, to how you felt about yourself. You told her about the time leading up to your death, what your thought process was and how you were feeling during that time. The best part was the fact that she didn’t judge you in the slightest. She only held you firmly, rubbing your back or running a hand through your hair. 

By the time you finished your tale, you were practically asleep in her arms. There was so much she wanted to say to you, but she couldn’t bear to wake you, and she couldn’t decide what she’d even say. So she just continued to hold and rock you, resting her head on your own. She was definitely keeping you home for the day. There was no way she was going to risk the other training reapers hurting you, either physically or emotionally, while you were in this state. 

For your remaining life as a reaper, Grell took you under her wing. She was unbearable most of the time, you learned after speaking with William once. But you learned how to handle her and her crazy personality. After officially becoming a reaper, Grell requested that she be paired with you, and you with her when either of you were scheduled to work. And when she wasn’t paired with you, she’d follow you, hidden within arms reach at any point in time.

When you were given your own apartment, you were lucky enough to be next door to your favorite reaper. You were still young, afterall, and didn’t fully understand how to live on your own in this new world. You still spent a few nights a week at Grell’s place, especially if you had a particularly hard day or weren’t feeling well. 

Once, Grell caught wind of some of the newer reapers talking about you and how you dressed. Oh boy, they began praying real quick when they saw Grell storm over, chainsaw propped up on her shoulder. Needless to say, those reapers were out of commission for a while, and Grell came home so pissed off you had to force her to go on a walk with you to cool off. 

Now that she knew your whole story, and just how young you were when you died, Grell kept an eye on you at all times. If you had a bad day and she knew before you came to her, she’d make sure she makes your favorite food for dinner, as well as have your favorite warm beverage on hand. Her quest room was always prepped and ready in case you wanted to stay with her. 

If you had to be gone for long periods of time due to work, she’d clean your apartment and do your laundry, making sure everything was clean by the time you returned home. Grell saw you as her own personal child, one she couldn’t have on her own. So she made sure to look after you and take care of you in any way she could.

[wiltedveins]

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 "𝐈 𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐭, 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐚 𝐰𝐞𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬..𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟!"

Grell Sutcliff x trans male reader (Black Butler) Romance/fluff

words 1,686

Contents : Possesive Grell, slight gender dysphoria, love

Note: I am so bad at doing reader x cannon characters, due to my overuse of names. I also must admit, I am rusty to this anime, so bare with me. It's been..a while  😭 So, without further ado, do enjoy. Disclaimer: Grell is a TRANS woman. Black Butler takes place in the past, before bottom surgery was a thing. So, even though Grell and reader do not have the bodies that align with their gender (not that body parts are mentioned, but some refuse to call Grell a she). They are still man/woman. Trans women are women, and trans men are men. Trans rights are human rights.

.˚⊹. ࣪𓉸 ࣪⊹˚..𖥔 ݁ ˖.˚⊹. ࣪𓉸 ࣪⊹˚..𖥔 ݁ ˖.˚⊹. ࣪𓉸 ࣪⊹˚..𖥔 ݁ ˖.˚⊹. ࣪𓉸 ࣪⊹˚..𖥔 ݁ ˖.˚⊹. ࣪𓉸 ࣪⊹˚..𖥔 ݁

Nobles are always hiding something under their ruffled collars. It's something people have come to learn.

And here he was, to oversee the nobles at a masquerade ball hosted by a shady Viscount suspected of human trafficking. He's charming, quiet, observant; the perfect wallflower who sees everything.

Grell was there on a separate-or more overlapping-assignment from the Reapers. Souls had been vanishing unnaturally from high society, as though whisked away before their time, before proper paperwork could be filed. A nuisance. A mystery. Delicious and in her alley of mischievousness.

Paths cross and shiver away until nothing more than dirt, but maybe tonight, a new path shall form.

He stood against the marble pillar like a carved statue, unmoving, carved from ivory and shadows. The soft white of his shirt glowed faintly in the chandelier light, every fold pressed to perfection, every thread carefully placed. A deep red cravat, like the first bloom of blood from a paper cut, peeked out beneath the dark lapels of a tailored coat. His vest was the same red-- crimson and gold embroidery catching the light like filigree on fine china, and gloves as black as the night sky. And beneath it all, Grell saw it. Or rather, sensed it.

The careful posture. The tension just beneath his ribs. A corset, no doubt. How dashing of the man.

She swept into the ballroom like a storm dressed in velvet. Her gown trailed behind her like spilled wine, clinging to her frame in every place it ought to. Burgundy silk bloomed from her hips in cascading ruffles, each one catching hints of black lace underneath. Her bodice hugged her ribcage like a lover, the lace sleeves feathering into her long crimson gloves. And her hair-oh, her hair-was twisted up high, ornate pins glinting like tiny scythes, a few loose strands curling just right to frame her face.

And then there were her eyes.

They found him instantly.

He wasn’t laughing like the other men. He wasn’t leering. He was watching.

Her favorite kind of man.

When he began moving through the room, it’s with practiced poise. Not arrogance, but the quiet strength of someone who watches more than he speaks. But that red? That red catches Grell’s eye like a moth to flame.

He’s at the edge of the ballroom, watching the crowd like a hawk, despite moving towards the drink and food bar. The chandeliers above reflect off his cravat, off the gold thread in his vest. Then Grell quickens her pace-- a splash of crimson against ivory marble. She catches him in her sights, and the crowd fades. Music swells.

Their reds practically mirror each other. Her gown, loud and lush, his vest, precise and guarded. Two kinds of fire; and she wants to be burned.

"Who is that?"

Grell purred to Madam Red, nearly dropping her fan. She had made rushed movements to gossip about her eye candy to the other red woman, her gloved finger pointing across the room to the almost..stiff man.

The lighting hits him just right-- sharp suit, gloves, leaning by a pillar as he watches the room with a calculating gaze. Grell starts narrating a fantasy wedding before even learning his name.

"We're not too sure on his name. It appears he might work with the likes of people such as Sebastian. Or, entirely the Phantomhive Household."

Madam Red had pulled herself away from another conversation, giving her attention to the other lady in red.

Grell made a noise; somewhere between uncomfortable and happy.

"He works with Bassy? I might be able to get my hands on him well enough.."

Her fan had opened once more, to fan across the rising heat in her pale face, before dramatically flailing herself against Madam Red, receiving a grunt.

"That is the man I shall marry, even if I must eliminate every rival on this wretched dance floor!"

Something-an emotion so thick it threatened to drown her-filled Grell. Was it anger? Or jealousy? Neither were quite sure, but Grell's chest felt coarse, her bodice feeling all too tight in the moment, causing her to stand upright and away from the other woman. She wasn't even able to finish a mere thought before a trio-three wretched women-surrounded him. Asking questions, giggling, leaning way too close. Her man.

"My goodness, you poor darling,"

Grell loudly cooed as she practically teleported to his side.

"Ladies, ladies-- do show some decorum. You’re embarrassing yourselves in front of a gentleman."

Her smile was forced, her sharp teeth exposed to the now startled woman, and oh-- one of the ladies dresses have been torn. However could such unfortunate events happen so soon? The party had only begun less than an hour ago.

As the woman scattered, some muttering their disdain towards the new woman, the other worrying about her broken threads, Grell took it upon herself to hear his voice. His name.

"My my, such elegance. Tell me, what is your name?"

He was still holding himself firm, despite the previous, and now current lady(s).

Oh, he was hers.

"I don't believe my name is a necessary thing to know."

His voice spoke to her like dove swans, flooding her ears with his sweet nectar. Like the fluttering of wings.

The moment she spotted him, it was curtains up. She didn't just fall, she had plummeted into obsession. He’s everything she adores in a man: serious, mysterious, handsome, and somehow immune to all the simpering ladies throwing themselves at him.

"Oh, but it is the most important detail. Such a lavished gentleman as yourself being all alone just doesn't sit right with me. Might I stay for company?"

Grell had felt the unease radiating from him. His posture was careful as to not expose his corset too much, his eyes holding a gentle danger that filled the red woman with adrenaline like no other.

She knew what he was.

"And if I expose my name, will you tell me yours?"

It was careful, guarded. Oh, she liked this. Like a game of cat and mouse-- But the cat fears the mouse instead.

"It's Grell darling."

Her movement shifted closer. She was still awaiting a response. He had muttered his own name; she had heard it well enough to not ask another time.

"I suppose I do not mind company."

His careful hands shifted to grab two glasses from the moving butler, and offering the glass. How delightfully charming of him.

.˚⊹. ࣪𓉸 ࣪⊹˚..𖥔 ݁ ˖.˚⊹. ࣪𓉸 ࣪⊹˚..𖥔 ݁ ˖.˚⊹. ࣪𓉸 ࣪⊹˚..𖥔 ݁ ˖.˚⊹. ࣪𓉸 ࣪⊹˚..𖥔 ݁ ˖.˚⊹. ࣪𓉸 ࣪⊹˚..𖥔 ݁

As the night continued, Grell had managed to get him to speak a little more. His voice was soft-- a pitch too high for his own liking.

“A lady must always be ready for a dance or a duel,”

She purred in reply to his remark of her own loose clothes, running her finger along the rim of her champagne glass. Though her eyes were locked entirely on him. He was a being unlike her- entirely human, entirely what she craved.

Though, ironic, because she wasn't fond of humans.

Grell seemed to have him cornered by the balcony. The stars were out, and she’s less dramatic now-- but it's still very her.

"Your eyes- they're sharp. And my, how you do not drool like the other men."

She complimented his sharp eyes, how he doesn’t drool like the other men, how he's different. Her voice brings forth something repressed. She touches his lapel gently and murmurs,

"You don’t have to hide what you are from me, darling. I’ve always adored men with a little danger under their cuffs."

He shifted under her gaze, that corset tightening with every breath he didn't want to take. The night air was cooler out here, quieter, but the pressure of being seen-truly seen-was louder than anything.

“I am..not sure I know of what you mean,”

He tried again, his voice quieter this time.

But Grell didn’t flinch, didn’t tease him this time. Instead, she reached out, slow and patient, and gently fixed the collar of his coat-- hands lingering, reverent.

"Darling,"

She started, voice like warm silk,

“I’ve worn more masks than this masquerade could ever dream of. But the best ones are the ones we peel off for the right people.”

He blinked at her, unsure whether to speak or flee. But then she added, softer still,

“I know what it feels like to ache in your own skin. And I know what it means to choose who you are. I see you.”

For a moment, silence stretched between them like ribbon. The stars above blinked faintly, as if holding their breath, awaiting their silent confessions.

Then-tentatively, just a brush of fingers-he took her hand.

“You really don’t drool,”

She added with a grin, that signature mischief glinting in her eyes.

“No.”

He began, a small smile tugging at his lips. Something uncanny to his typical hidden nature.

“But I think I’m starting to swoon.”

That earned a delighted gasp from Grell, and she leaned in, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand, as if he were royalty.

To her, he might as well be.

“Oh, my dear...What a deliciously dangerous man you are.”

She hovered there a moment longer; long enough to give him the choice. To step away, or forward.

But he moved closer.

Their lips met under the starlight, soft and curious at first-- no performance, no dramatics. Just two people trying to taste something true for once. His gloved hand brushed her cheek, and she melted into it like dusk into night.

It was not a kiss to claim. It was one that understood.

And later, when the masks had all been set aside and the ballroom emptied of its lies, two silhouettes remained on the balcony.

Laughing quietly. Planning escapes. Sharing names like secrets of children behind playground trees in a schoolyard.

[sleepingdeath-light]

autistic s/o hcs ; grelle

requested by ; anonymous (06/05/23)

fandom(s) ; black butler

fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | specific

character(s) ; grelle sutcliffe

outline ; “Hi!! i saw your autistic s/o with claude headcanons and i was wondering if you could do the same thing but with grell? thank you ! <33”

warning(s) ; none, just fluff!

she thinks that your physical stims are adorable — well, she thinks all of you is adorable — but she won’t really comment on it

verbal stims, like echolalia, are something that she’s neutral to and she’ll generally just respond to whatever you’re saying as she would regularly

if you need objects to help you stim and focus properly, or if you’re a sensory seeker, she’ll go out and try and find something for you — either taking you shopping with her or just asking you to make a list of the specific textures/objects you need for her to get

she’ll encourage you to infodump about your interests and hyperfixations — always happy to listen and engage with responses and questions (looking things up on her own time to make sure that she can keep up with what you’re interested in)

if you have a specific hobby that’s really stealing your focus then she’ll make sure you have whatever you need to pursue it (read: steal) — whether that’s wool for knitting, beads for jewellery making, pencils for art and so on

if anyone dared to speak or act cruelly towards you because of your autism — as many would during her era — she’s not afraid to get a bit rough

hell, she’s a reaper, it’s in her nature to be violent and murderous

so it’s barely even a doddle for her to go about torturing and killing those who lack what she would deem as appropriate levels of empathy towards those with divergent minds

she fully understands sensory aversions to certain colours and textures and lights — and she’ll happily adjust meals, outfits and such to accommodate you

she insists that no proper lady would let her love go uncomfortable for the sake of appearances — what a gentlewoman!

all in all she’s incredibly supportive in everything you do and isn’t afraid to throw hands for you — what a wonderful girlfriend you have

[eijiswritingbouquet]

Hello!!

This is a continuation of @eijisnotebook! (I couldn't get into my account><)

<3

I'm Eiji!

He/him 🌟

I write 🤍

Check tags to see some fandoms I write for/am interested in!(I promise there's more)

[ar3-y0u-l0st]

》 🄱🄻🄰🄲🄺 🄱🅄🅃🄻🄴🅁

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Fandom: Black Butler

Release Date: 02/10/2008

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CIEL PHANTOMHIVE

SEBASTIAN MICHAELIS

GRELL SUTCLIFF

WILLIAM T. SPEARS

EDWARD MIDFORD

TANAKA

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Item Count: #006

TOTAL:

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(*) Will not, under any circumstances, write smut

(**) If you're into them then I won't deprive you ig

[hahahahhahaha-1234]

Hi!!

I’m Salem(also known as Eiji) and I write fanfiction!!

My old fanfic writing accounts were: @eijisnotebook and @eijiswritingbouquet

I can’t get into either of them!!

Some HNK fans know me<3 there are some asks I haven’t gotten to

But check me out!

I’ve written for: Bungo Stray Dogs, Houseki No Kuni, Yuri!!! On Ice and Black Butler so far, but I can write for many other fandoms as well!

(And not just anime)

I’m a male, he/him pronouns, and when im writing fics that aren’t requested, I’ll usually either do a gender neutral reader or a male reader. But you can request ANY gender reader you’d like!

Have a good timezone!! <3

Dni: Trumpies, zo0philes, p3dophiles

[bapydemonprincess]

Picrew used: https://picrew.me/ja/image_maker/399481

Miss Grelle Sutcliff may seem the outrageously flirty and raunchy type, but when it comes to the Phantomhive Maid, she suddenly becomes much more tender and.. softer with putting on the moves and wooing the other lady. Which appears to be appreciated and reciprocated 100% ❤️

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Platonic Grell and child reader

not really got any thoughts on how I want you to do this just some fluff really (say like child reader is like 13 or something)

no worries, I gotchu!

maybe kinda based on my Reaper the Kid AU, reader is a child Reaper and has been basically adopted by Grell~

You’re not allowed near GRELL’s field work. You’re pretty sure she would be fine taking you along, but her supervisor expressly forbade it. (He’s such a stick in the mud. You’re sure he has his reasons, though.)

What you’re allowed to do is hang around in her office until she gets back. Then you’re allowed to watch her do paperwork… which the both of you hate. She’s insistent that it must be done, because she’s gotten in enough trouble over the paperwork which brought you to the Dispatch in the first place that any slack Will gave her before has been reduced to nothing.

It’s soul-crushing, honestly. You’ve done nothing except sit round here all day, reading and chatting with her coworkers, and now you’re expected to just watch her fill out forms before she can take you home?

As much fun as Ronnie is, even he has a job to do, so nobody can really entertain you. Day in and day out ever since you got here, all you’ve done is sit. Your memories are blurred and itchy, and you don’t particularly like being stuck with them while stupid grown-up things have to be done. Even Grell doesn’t want to do her paperwork, so why are they making her do so much of it?

“This is boring,” you finally speak up from the sofa you’ve been resting on in her office. Having exhausted all the other positions you could take, (including sleeping for about an hour earlier), you’ve decided to lay with your head on the floor and your feet propped up on the back of the sofa. It’s making blood rush to your head; at least that relieves the numbing greyness that’s threatening to take over your whole being.

Grell huffs and hits another key on her typewriter. “It doesn’t become any less boring with every time you say it, you know. I’m working as fast as I can.”

You move your feet in time with the pendulum of the clock hanging on the wall. “I want to go home.”

“Yes, well, you’re not the only one!” She peers over her glasses at you, allowing you to see the fraying edges of her exhaustion. “How do you think I feel? I’ve already spent hours doing field work, only to have to come back and fill out paper after paper whilst my brat of a charge repeats how boring it all is! Don’t you think I know it’s boring? I’m the one doing it!”

You spread your arms as if in surrender. “Must every T be crossed and every I be dotted?? Can’t you tell Mr. Spear-Up-His-Arse that you’ll finish it tomorrow?”

“And what’s stopping it from being not exactly as boring tomorrow as it is today? It has to be submitted before I leave for the day or else.”

“Or else what? He’ll poke you with his Scythe?”

Her hands slap down on the desk in frustration. “Or else he’ll take you away from me, (Name)! His one condition for my training you was that I had to prove I’d be responsible enough to handle it by doing all my paperwork. If I slack off, he’ll train you himself, and that means you don’t get to come home with me every night. Do you want that? I don’t!”

You… don’t really know what to say to that. Something in the back of your mind aches, like a memory of a mother you can’t remember. Ever since you were reborn as a Reaper, Grell’s sort of become your mother.

It didn’t occur to you that you might have become her child.

“… It should only take me another twenty minutes, then we can go home,” she sighs. Her shoulders sag down, cheek resting in one hand as she looks at you again. This time, her gaze is softer, more understanding, less irritated. “Unless you’d rather go be with Will. In that case, I’ll just finish this all tomorrow.”

You quickly push yourself up to give her a mock glare. “Are you batty?! Nobody would ever rather be with Will over… anyone! Especially you! I’m not going anywhere!”

The tension drains out of her in an instant, and she snorts. “You’ll come home with me, though, won’t you? Or would you prefer I lock you in the office overnight?”

“Nooooo… oh, my God…” You let yourself fall, landing face-down in the carpet. When you speak, your words are muffled. “This stupid office is probably haunted. Lousy with ghosts.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Ghosts, darling?”

“Yes. The ghosts of all the other people who died of boredom doing paperwork.”

“If only paperwork could kill me,” she mutters, but she’s smiling this time.

“Maybe tomorrow I can bring in some sage and burn it. We’ll get rid of the ghosts.”

“Oh, heavens, no, sweetheart.”

“Huh? Why not?”

“Well, why do you think Will keeps the ghosts around? He makes them do overtime so he doesn’t have to!”

You both start laughing, and suddenly, sitting around while Grell does paperwork doesn’t seem so boring anymore.