𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐀𝐒 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒

Silas Grimshaw has done everything within his power to leave his less than pleasant past behind him. But now the past has revealed itself to be even darker than he ever could have imagined, and the chains which that past uses to keep their hold on him are no longer just metaphorical.

TW: Child Abandonment, Human experimentation, bullying, violence, death.

Why was Silas left upon the doorstep of an orphanage on a cold winter night thirty six years ago? It’s a question that he’s spent a great deal of time asking himself throughout his life, though he’s come no closer to knowing for sure what the true answer is. In his mind, he figures that it might have had something to do with his unusual appearance, having been born with hair as white as the snow, and with eyes a goldish yellow; perhaps he was a child born into a family of some nobility, and cast out because of these strange features. What he figures is really a more likely scenario though, is that he was the product of a relation made outside of the customs of a marriage, and he was disposed of as the result of a desire by his parents to protect their standings and reputations within society, as well as perhaps to keep their respective families from ever finding out about their transgressions.

Ultimately, it doesn’t make much difference what the reason for his abandonment was, and even if he was ever to know the truth, it wouldn’t change what that abandonment resulted in. He, who had no family, no wealth, not even a name to call his own, was taken in by the orphanage, and christened Silas Grimshaw by the people working there that night; and it was at that orphanage that he spent the next eighteen years of his life, wishing for nothing more than to escape. So much did he hate the place, and so badly did he wish to get away, that he made several attempts throughout the years to leave, though none of them were particularly successful, as he had nowhere else that he could go. In hindsight, he can look back on his time there and appreciate the lessons that it taught him. It was there that he learned to be self sufficient, and the constant bullying and torment that he suffered at the hands of the other children due to his bizarre appearance undoubtedly toughened him up. But the most valuable thing that his years at the orphanage gave him was the capacity to dream of leaving it behind and forging an identity for himself; and the day he turned eighteen, he set off to do exactly that.

As far as he could see it, Silas’ best chance to put the orphanage as far behind him as he could, and to simultaneously rise in station and create an identity for himself, was to join the Withermore army. He took to the soldier’s life almost immediately, and his inborn desire to prove himself, and to outdo all the competition that had come from years of competing for everything with the other children at the orphanage, proved to be a massive advantage for him. After only a couple years spent as a standard foot soldier, he had impressed so greatly with his relentless tenacity, not to mention the several noteworthy accomplishments that he had to his credit, that he was persuaded to leave to army by the leader of the prestigious Destarin Rangers; unaffiliated men and women who were tasked with patrolling the lands and fighting off bandits, wild animals, and most importantly, monsters who dared to prowl too close to town’s borders. This turned out to be Silas’ true calling, and his exceptional skill led to him becoming the leader of his own unit of Rangers before long; a position that he still holds to this very day.

And so the orphan who had been abandoned as a baby, who had been left with no family, no wealth, and no name, had managed to forge an identity for himself at long last. He was a respected individual in society, who had overcome everything that had stood in his way to find some semblance of satisfaction and fulfillment in his life.

And then, without warning, everything changed.

It all started when, during a particularly strenuous battle with a dragon, Silas felt this strange sensation overtaking his body, and a moment later he blacked out. When he came back around, it was to see that the dragon had been defeated, its body still aflame with a strange black fire, but so too were the bodies of Silas’ comrades. With horror, Silas realized that he himself must have somehow been responsible for this, though how, he could not begin to explain. There was someone who could though, and they made their presence known at that moment, when, from a spout of flames, emerged a large horned demon. The Demon explained that Silas was no ordinary human, as he had always believed himself to be, but was, in fact, a mutant, due to the experimentations that had been done to him by his sorceress mother whilst she had still carried him in the womb; and the Grimfyre, as The Demon called it, was the most powerful of these mutations. But as if this wasn’t all bad enough, what The Demon told him next was potentially the worst news of all: Silas’ mother had sold his soul to the very demon standing before him, in exchange for more power for herself. This meant, as The Demon explained, that Silas had no choice but to obey his commands, no matter how much he did not want to; to refuse was to die and face eternal damnation. And now that the Grimfyre had finally awoken within Silas, just as The Demon had been waiting for, he had every intention of making good on the investment he’d made all those years ago.

Now Silas finds himself traveling far and wide across the continent, doing tasks at the command of The Demon who controls him. He has no idea what The Demon’s endgame is, but he knows that he must find a way to break free of his control before he finds out.

WHAT ARE YOU...?

species: mutated human. weaknesses: mortal weaknesses; can be killed by the destruction of his mortal vessel. cannot cast any magic whatsoever when not using grimfyre. Has no control over himself when using grimfyre (see below). strengths: enhanced vitality, magic resistance. has access to a power called grimfyre, which causes his body to become engulfed in black magical flames which can be used to great effectiveness in combat. however, when he taps into using grimfyre, Silas loses all control over himself, and can cause unintended destruction and harm.. physical description: white hair, golden-yellow eyes. when grimfyre is activated, his entire body is cloaked in black fire.. additional info: silas’ mutations are the result of his birth mother, who is a very powerful sorceress, doing experiments on him whilst she was still carrying him in the womb. then, after he was born, she made a deal with a demon, selling silas’ soul in exchange for more power for herself. however, rather than choosing to actually take silas’ soul then and there, the demon allowed him to keep it within his vessel, so that he could have control over silas and use him for his own purposes later down the line.

silas grimshaw is played by dusto and their fc is henry cavill.

𝕕𝕦𝕟𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕖. 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕕

he appears as though he was born forty years ago but is actually four hundred and sixty, he is a vampire who lives in mystic grove as an out of the attic antique shop owner. he looks an awful lot like henry cavill.

"the present life of man, O king, seems to me, like to the swift flight of a sparrow through the room wherein you sit at supper in winter.”

tw: plague, infancy death, death, attack, murder, gambling

It was 1563 and a tumultuous era of protestant reformation and the worst episode of the London plague during the sixteenth century, leading up to the transition from the Tudor to the Stuart period. This was when Duncan was born, to a well-off family where he was a single child of a mother that was at that time considered well past her prime, a miracle after too many miscarriages and infancy deaths. Perhaps this was exactly what had saved the Creed’s family name and fortune from falling into the hands of many distant cousins and removed relatives standing in line to benefit from a sonless death of its influential patriarch. Moving out of the crowded, unsanitary London of the time and into the rural area seemed to have done Lady Creed good, the fresh air, nature and being away from poorly maintained and unclean streets resulted in good news everyone stopped praying for a long time ago. This saved the family, the marriage between Duncan’s parents and their family inheritance, though not for long.

The first time fate showed signs of being as capricious as the sea was when Duncan’s father passed away. Needing to travel often into the city for work, the household feared for Mr. Creed’s safety and well-being yet, quite surprisingly so, this wasn’t what had ended the man’s life. It was a vice that had ultimately been the cause of his demise. Stabbed multiple times and left to bleed out on the grimy cobblestone over a gambling debt squabble, Mr. Creed’s body had joined the numerous corpses waiting to be disposed of properly so as to not encourage the terrible epidemic plaguing the city. Retrieval for a proper funeral had been quite an ordeal for the young Duncan, who’d just barely turned sixteen yet was not only already considered a man but also had to take over what was then a lucrative trade business.

While Duncan was still dealing with his first tragedy, he had many difficult choices to make. As much as they loved each other, Duncan and his father were too different for Duncan to keep a pristine loving memory of him intact. Unlike Creed Sr, Duncan had been a born businessman, investing his following years into restoring what his father had gambled away, realizing just how close his parent was to completely ruining them. He married early and unlike his mother, he’d been blessed with seven healthy children who’d all but one reached old age. He not only managed to not let everything fall completely apart, but he had the family business thrive and the Creeds kept their old money replenished by new income and their social status.

But remember how fate can be capricious? Duncan’s second tragedy should have been his last because it was his own death. Out late and away from home but not for vice like his father had been years ago, he was intercepted by a strange assailant who’d drained him dry of his lifeblood after having dragged him into one of the many closed theatres, abandoned as a measure against the plague. It was 1603, Queen Elizabeth the First had died and Duncan was forty years old and now, as the conductor of his demise had told him before he walked into the sun the very next morning, a vampire, inheriting the strange creature’s legacy and bloodline as was custom for his kind once they were sick of knowing they could live their cursed lives forever if they chose so.

Duncan received only as many instructions and lessons that would help him navigate his new life as a single night of conversation and listening could give him. This one bizarre night painted in a blur of pain, shock and confusion would be his only guidance through the following months of navigating the intricacies of the life of a nocturnal blood drinker, made abundant and plentiful by the many dying of the terrible bubonic plague. More would be found out later when Duncan would discover everything the creature had left as an inheritance to his progeny. Though Duncan would use these benefits, estates, riches and ways of keeping, maintaining and passing them down to himself one human lifetime after another in the future, he would not exactly follow his sire’s every single ideology and tradition, although he’d found volumes upon volumes of written word on various topics relating to the existence of vampires observed, noted down and studied in detail by the one who’d made him.

Instead, the first years Duncan had spent in hiding, repulsed by the way he was now, hiding in that same closed and barred away theatre whose extended shadows provided refuge between audience seats, balcony booths and backstage rooms. He might’ve wasted away years there if concern for his family who likely had no news of him for all this time had not drawn him out, making him undertake the journey back to their countryside manor where he found his widow had never remarried and was struggling with sons away, daughters unmarried and cousins looking to scavenge their wealth like vultures again. It started as leaving little clues to his wife - finding proof of others’ treachery and scheming and leaving it on her bedside table before sneaking away into the night again, rearranging the items in their home to point things out that would give her bright new ideas on what to do, supplying books she didn’t even know they owned that could educate her and give her clever mind more information on how to run the family business, whom to contact for help, how to fend for herself. Until she’d caught him doing it, which was unsurprising and only a matter of time.

And what was even more surprising was that she accepted his story and everything that he was now. Yet the final conclusion was that it would not be wise for him to reemerge as he was now after years of absence. So, Duncan remained in the shadows but by his wife’s side, saving the family’s status yet again with co-joined forces until yet another tragedy which was an expected yet nevertheless a painful one struck - he’d outlived his wife, and eventually his children too, of which only two perhaps doubted that their mother had a benefactor much too kind to them to be a mere stranger. Yet Duncan’s ties to his family would not end there and he would continue to watch over his line as it spread out into many roots and branches, whether they stayed where they originated from or moved elsewhere, making his presence known to only rare few.

When things with the family were calm and steady, Duncan would travel, the advancements of humankind and technology making this more possible and easier with each passing century. He knew Europe like the back of his hand, been to the New World and the far East. If there was a descendant that needed to be followed up on in whichever remote part of the world for whatever reasons they’d ended up there, Duncan would follow, checking in periodically over the span of years, depending how settled and happy they seemed. The happier they were, the less likely was Duncan to hover near. However those who had been down on their luck would perhaps experience an unexpected turn of events not possible to be explained except by maybe having a guardian angel watching over them. Or a devil bringing bad luck.

Duncan had been a resident of Greywood before but had, at one point, moved away to one of his many travels, leaving for what was now over forty years - a blink of an eye for an immortal with centuries behind him. Now it was time to return to it, reclaim the piece of property he’d left unattended where he took in lost or discarded things faded by time, use or neglect. He polishes and restores them to their former glory as much as possible and occasionally finds a brilliant, priceless gem underneath. Most he donates, if their worth is of any cultural value. Others, less legendary, he keeps in his small antique shop he was in the process of reopening upon his arrival, once again filling it with beautiful, intricate things with stories to tell and history to unravel. If you ever pass by ‘Out of the Attic’ antique store in Greywood, go right in. The ‘closed’ sign is always on just because the owner forgets to flip it.

“what power did he attain when settling in greywood?”

Duncan’s Greywood-acquired power is that his ability of not going into frenzied bloodlust even if he goes without drinking blood for long gets enhanced to a point where he does not feel hunger for blood or anything at all really but he still must drink it in order not to slip into the so-called ‘stone sleep’. Can be inconvenient as he has to actively remind himself to feed. Aside from other usual consequences of starving, the longer he remains unfed, the paler his hair and eyes become until they turn almost completely white

penned by... sandra

Discord and roleplayer.me based.  Send us a message here if interested.

Name of Character: Qhuinn Fontenot Name of Connection: Up to player (she never knew his name) Faceclaim: Henry Cavill or UTP Species: Werewolf Description of Character: UTP Personality: Can be UTP for the most part, but as he sexually assaulted then attacked/turned Qhuinn there should be a part of his personality that would reflect that kind of violence. How do they know each other?: He’s Qhuinn’s maker. They met at a bar where they had a one-night stand that turned violent. Qhuinn knocked him out and managed to get away but he found her in his wolf form and attacked and bit her.

                           𝖉𝖚𝖓𝖈𝖆𝖓 𝖊. 𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖉

he appears as though he was born forty years ago but is actually four hundred and sixty, he is a vampire who lives in bowden as an antique shop owner. he looks an awful lot like henry cavill.

"the present life of man, O king, seems to me, like to the swift flight of a sparrow through the room wherein you sit at supper in winter.”

PLAGUE TW, MISCARRIAGE TW, INFANCY DEATH, DEATH TW, ATTACK TW, GAMBLING TW, MURDER TW It was 1563 and a tumultuous era of protestant reformation and the worst episode of the London plague during the sixteenth century, leading up to the transition from the Tudor to the Stuart period. This was when Duncan was born, to a well-off family where he was a single child of a mother that was at that time considered well past her prime, a miracle after too many miscarriages and infancy deaths. Perhaps this was exactly what had saved the Creed’s family name and fortune from falling into the hands of many distant cousins and removed relatives standing in line to benefit from a sonless death of its influential patriarch. Moving out of the crowded, unsanitary London of the time and into the rural area seemed to have done Lady Creed good, the fresh air, nature and being away from poorly maintained and unclean streets resulted in good news everyone stopped praying for a long time ago. This saved the family, the marriage between Duncan’s parents and their family inheritance, though not for long.

The first time fate showed signs of being as capricious as the sea was when Duncan’s father passed away. Needing to travel often into the city for work, the household feared for Mr. Creed’s safety and well-being yet, quite surprisingly so, this wasn’t what had ended the man’s life. It was a vice that had ultimately been the cause of his demise. Stabbed multiple times and left to bleed out on the grimy cobblestone over a gambling debt squabble, Mr. Creed’s body had joined the numerous corpses waiting to be disposed of properly so as to not encourage the terrible epidemic plaguing the city. Retrieval for a proper funeral had been quite an ordeal for the young Duncan, who’d just barely turned sixteen yet was not only already considered a man but also had to take over what was then a lucrative trade business.

While Duncan was still dealing with his first tragedy, he had many difficult choices to make. As much as they loved each other, Duncan and his father were too different for Duncan to keep a pristine loving memory of him intact. Unlike Creed Sr, Duncan had been a born businessman, investing his following years into restoring what his father had gambled away, realizing just how close his parent was to completely ruining them. He married early and unlike his mother, he’d been blessed with seven healthy children who’d all but one reached old age. He not only managed to not let everything fall completely apart, but he had the family business thrive and the Creeds kept their old money replenished by new income and their social status.

But remember how fate can be capricious? Duncan’s second tragedy should have been his last because it was his own death. Out late and away from home but not for vice like his father had been years ago, he was intercepted by a strange assailant who’d drained him dry of his lifeblood after having dragged him into one of the many closed theatres, abandoned as a measure against the plague. It was 1603, Queen Elizabeth the First had died and Duncan was forty years old and now, as the conductor of his demise had told him before he walked into the sun the very next morning, a vampire, inheriting the strange creature’s legacy and bloodline as was custom for his kind once they were sick of knowing they could live their cursed lives forever if they chose so.

Duncan received only as many instructions and lessons that would help him navigate his new life as a single night of conversation and listening could give him. This one bizarre night painted in a blur of pain, shock and confusion would be his only guidance through the following months of navigating the intricacies of the life of a nocturnal blood drinker, made abundant and plentiful by the many dying of the terrible bubonic plague. More would be found out later when Duncan would discover everything the creature had left as an inheritance to his progeny. Though Duncan would use these benefits, estates, riches and ways of keeping, maintaining and passing them down to himself one human lifetime after another in the future, he would not exactly follow his sire’s every single ideology and tradition, although he’d found volumes upon volumes of written word on various topics relating to the existence of vampires observed, noted down and studied in detail by the one who’d made him.

Instead, the first years Duncan had spent in hiding, repulsed by the way he was now, hiding in that same closed and barred away theatre whose extended shadows provided refuge between audience seats, balcony booths and backstage rooms. He might’ve wasted away years there if concern for his family who likely had no news of him for all this time had not drawn him out, making him undertake the journey back to their countryside manor where he found his widow had never remarried and was struggling with sons away, daughters unmarried and cousins looking to scavenge their wealth like vultures again. It started as leaving little clues to his wife - finding proof of others’ treachery and scheming and leaving it on her bedside table before sneaking away into the night again, rearranging the items in their home to point things out that would give her bright new ideas on what to do, supplying books she didn’t even know they owned that could educate her and give her clever mind more information on how to run the family business, whom to contact for help, how to fend for herself. Until she’d caught him doing it, which was unsurprising and only a matter of time.

And what was even more surprising was that she accepted his story and everything that he was now. Yet the final conclusion was that it would not be wise for him to reemerge as he was now after years of absence. So, Duncan remained in the shadows but by his wife’s side, saving the family’s status yet again with co-joined forces until yet another tragedy which was an expected yet nevertheless a painful one struck - he’d outlived his wife, and eventually his children too, of which only two perhaps doubted that their mother had a benefactor much too kind to them to be a mere stranger. Yet Duncan’s ties to his family would not end there and he would continue to watch over his line as it spread out into many roots and branches, whether they stayed where they originated from or moved elsewhere, making his presence known to only rare few.

When things with the family were calm and steady, Duncan would travel, the advancements of humankind and technology making this more possible and easier with each passing century. He knew Europe like the back of his hand, been to the New World and the far East. If there was a descendant that needed to be followed up on in whichever remote part of the world for whatever reasons they’d ended up there, Duncan would follow, checking in periodically over the span of years, depending how settled and happy they seemed. The happier they were, the less likely was Duncan to hover near. However those who had been down on their luck would perhaps experience an unexpected turn of events not possible to be explained except by maybe having a guardian angel watching over them. Or a devil bringing bad luck.

Duncan had been a resident of Opulence before but had, at one point, moved away to one of his many travels, leaving for what was now over forty years - a blink of an eye for an immortal with centuries behind him. Now it was time to return to it, reclaim the piece of property he’d left unattended where he took in lost or discarded things faded by time, use or neglect. He polishes and restores them to their former glory as much as possible and occasionally finds a brilliant, priceless gem underneath. Most he donates, if their worth is of any cultural value. Others, less legendary, he keeps in his small antique shop he was in the process of reopening upon his arrival, once again filling it with beautiful, intricate things with stories to tell and history to unravel. If you ever pass by ‘Out of the Attic’ antique store in Opulence, go right in. The ‘closed’ sign is always on just because the owner forgets to flip it.

“what power did he attain when settling in opulence?”

Duncan’s Opulence-acquired power is that his ability of not going into frenzied bloodlust even if he goes without drinking blood for long gets enhanced to a point where he does not feel hunger for blood or anything at all really but he still must drink it in order not to slip into the so-called ‘stone sleep’. Can be inconvenient as he has to actively remind himself to feed. Aside from other usual consequences of starving, the longer he remains unfed, the paler his hair and eyes become until they turn almost completely white

this character is…taken

HENRY CAVILL as GERALT OF RIVIA Netflix’s The Witcher ‧ Bottled Appetites

@poscidxn​

RE OPENED DEITIES; 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫…  the reincarnation loop continues — they now fly to find another mortal body:

POSEIDON, the olympian god-king of the sea, earthquakes, and horses.

RE OPENED FCs; 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫…  the reincarnation loop continues — will these mortals find the deity inside them?

henry cavill

Henry Cavill in The Witcher (3.08) as Geralt of Rivia

henry cavill.

The sons of Steffon Baratheon, of Storm's End, and Cassana Estermont.

In a wonderful vision of sleep,

A stag of warrant, a stag, a stag,

A runnable stag in a jewell’d bed,

Under the sheltering ocean dead.

(—John Davidson, “A Runnable Stag”)

So let me backtrack a bit, in 2017 I was in a Henry Cavill phase and made a gif hunt of him in the entirety of The Tudors. Well, my first gif pack got banned. So, here’s my sticking it to tumblr by putting it on my blog and reposting this! 

By clicking THIS LINK you’ll find 385 gifs that of Henry Cavill in The Tudors Season 1. All of these gifs were made by me and I don’t care if you use them in crackships, gif icons, or other things just give credit where credit is due.

TW: NSFW Content, Semi-Nudity, Flashing Lights, Blood, Violence

“Shit!” The brunette quickly adjusted her robe, feeling a flush of embarrassment at being caught in such unstable state. "Oh, hey there," She greeted him, acting surprised. "I didn't expect to see you here."

𝐏𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐂 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍! by CLICKING THE SOURCE LINK of this post, you will be redirected to #500 gifs of HENRY CAVILL (1983) in HELLRAISER: HELLWORLD & THE TUDORS S1 as mike and charles brandon, respectively. these gifs were made entirely made by me from scratch and were made for rp purposes, but you are welcome to use these gifs for however you see fit. if you alter/share them anywhere that aren’t for personal use then please link back to the original post and/or credit me on the post​. ​LIKES and REBLOGS are not required, but encouraged!

DO: use my gifs for your roleplaying desires, edit into gif icons, and use for personal use

DO NOT: use my gifs for taboo roleplays, to portray minors, to portray suki herself, racebend, or edit the gifs without crediting me and/or asking permission

to find out how to commission from me, click the source link or go to lexiresources

If you see me adding more muses, no you didn't.

HENRY CAVILL as GERALT OF RIVIA. Netflix’s The Witcher ‧ Everybody Has a Plan 'til They Get Punched in the Face