Chapter 2

1K 33 8
                                    

(Icarus being mentioned in each chapter so far wasn't planned, but I did enjoy the theme it added to the character of the reader. And yes I did make the myth of Icarus far gayer than most which isn't surprising given any of my stories, but I always hated the fact that people write poems describing his goal of reaching for the sun a man chasing a women when in Greek myth the sun would be Apollo or Helios and one of those is a very bisexual man or maybe even both given Greece's treatment of sexuality.

Also I'm putting this in both of my Black Butler stories but I am writing Grell, and using Grell instead of Grelle cause that's how I first saw it spelled, as a man. He's going by He/him pronouns and will be treated as such, this is mainly because this is a gay male reader insert and is designed for self indulgence. Grell, to my knowledge, has never been confirmed as anything other than that unofficial comic that depicts Grell as a trans woman, and the other characters refer to Grell with male pronouns and one can easily make the argument that Grell refers to himself as an actress in the same way a drag queen does. But I'll admit that I'm a trans guy not a trans women so I asked friends who do identify as trans women and they said that they all considered Grell to be a very feminine gay guy with a thing for dramatics. Either way this is just self indulgent gay bullshit so head-canon/interpret Grell as gay/trans/cis/bi/non-binary/etc.

So, I hope you all enjoy this aforementioned gay bullshit.)

Title: When life gives you anything just toss it away and start anew. It won't help you without a price. But people show up for different reasons, don't they? I wonder...

-

I am writing this under an appreciable mental strain, since by tonight I shall be no more. Penniless, and at the end of my supply of the drug which alone makes life endurable, I can bear the torture no longer; and shall cast myself from this garret window into the squalid street below. Do not think from my slavery to morphine that I am a weakling or a degenerate. When you have read these hastily scrawled pages you may guess, though never fully realise, why it is that I must have forgetfulness or death.

It was in one of the most open and least frequented parts of the broad Pacific that the packet of which I was supercargo fell a victim to the German sea-raider. The great war was then at its very beginning, and the ocean forces of the Hun had not completely sunk to their later degradation; so that our vessel was made a legitimate prize, whilst we of her crew were treated with all the fairness and consideration due us as naval prisoners. So liberal, indeed, was the discipline of our captors, that five days after we were taken I managed to escape alone in a small boat with water and provisions for a good length of time.

When I finally found myself adrift and free, I had but little idea of my surroundings. Never a competent navigator, I could only guess vaguely by the sun and stars that I was somewhat south of the equator. Of the longitude I knew nothing, and no island or coast-line was in sight. The weather kept fair, and for uncounted days I drifted aimlessly beneath the scorching sun; waiting either for some passing ship, or to be cast on the shores of some habitable land. But neither ship nor land appeared, and I began to despair in my solitude upon the heaving vastnesses of unbroken blue.

The change happened whilst I slept. Its details I shall never know; for my slumber, though troubled and dream-infested, was continuous. When at last I awaked, it was to discover myself half sucked into a slimy expanse of hellish black mire which extended about me in monotonous undulations as far as I could see, and in which my boat lay grounded some distance away.

Though one might well imagine that my first sensation would be of wonder at so prodigious and unexpected a transformation of scenery, I was in reality more horrified than astonished; for there was in the air and in the rotting soil a sinister quality which chilled me to the very core. The region was putrid with the carcasses of decaying fish, and of other less describable things which I saw protruding from the nasty mud of the unending plain. Perhaps I should not hope to convey in mere words the unutterable hideousness that can dwell in absolute silence and barren immensity. There was nothing within hearing, and nothing in sight save a vast reach of black slime; yet the very completeness of the stillness and the homogeneity of the landscape oppressed me with a nauseating fear.

The Queen's Cat (Seme Male Reader x Black Butler)Where stories live. Discover now