#abuse_

apparently both t.wiiter AND tum.blr want to fuck my day today. x

───   jace herondale,    t h e   f a i r   f o l k

book and show mix of jace herondale  after day of atonement

                                                   jace closed his eyes for a moment as he played, it was an exercise he did since he was a child, close his eyes and feel the keys, instead of seeing them, and try to play perfectly the same tune again and again and again — see with his ears if he’d followed the sheets to a t.

the soft, gentle, tones of the piano filled the room, and he knew they were echoing beyond, through the hallways of the institute, for anyone passing to listen to, but he wasn’t thinking about that now. 

and now, my boy, you’ll know what it means to be a herondale. jace worked through the grave part of the song, lips pressed in a tight line.  h e r o n d a l e. he tested the name on his tongue, even inside his mouth. if yesterday was anything to measure by, he wasn’t so sure the herondale family would want him in their history. they’d be so proud of you. he tried to imagine that. but all he could think of was valentine smiling as he cut the strings on the back of the dummy just right, and the mannequin fell apart. it had been hours before he got it just right from the first plunge. it was gray and cold when they started, and black and cold when they finished. that was the kind of task he was good at completing, the way he knew how to make a parent proud. you have your mother’s looks. he frowned. his mother... had she loved him? his father, he was valentine’s right hand after luke was gone, but everyone had described him as a good man. was he just fooled by valentine like everybody else? like jace, himself, had been? was loving valentine a weakness in his very blood? 

jace kept on playing. don’t hesitate, jace. he worked his long fingers through the keys. when he was eight, he couldn’t reach all of them. yes, you can, i know you can. he’d never want to disappoint father, because when he disappointed father, father didn’t love him, and if father didn’t love him, who would?

to love is to destroy. don’t let your emotions cloud your judgement. can you pledge your loyalty to the clave? no. jace didn’t want to think it. didn’t want to dwell on it. but if that was really how his grandmother thought, felt, acted, was there really a difference between his new family and his fake one? you sound like valentine. what was so different between the way valentine acted, and what the clave did? was alec right and his new name just the other side of the coin to his old one? the clave could be argued with, his father couldn’t. could his grandmother be argued with? could she one day be an advocate for changes in the clave? somehow he doubted it.but he had to believe if he wanted to keep on fighting.

you’re a herondale, get used to the perks. was that what it meant now? that he wasn’t one of them anymore? did alec resent him for having been shoved into yet another family he never sought out? only he didn’t know if he hadn’t WANTED this one. for one moment, for one single moment, he had, actually. the moment that ring was placed around his neck, the weight of it cold against his chest, jace never thought he could have felt prouder, the feeling of belonging punched the air right out of him. now his grandmother was gone without another word, alec had looked at him the entire day before like jace’s very presence disappointed him, and he wasn’t sure he belonged anywhere. again. you were never a stray. wasn’t that what he’d always been?

jace you can’t do this. there was so much death. so much death on top of him. downworlders, shadowhunters, all now skinned alive and screaming. jace couldn’t save them. but he’d had to TRY. no. he’d begged but it wasn’t enough. he’d tried but it wasn’t enough. he couldn’t reach the keys — maybe if we snap the ligaments you’ll be able to stretch, would you like to try that? or would you like to try harder? 

you just let it happen?! he had before, hadn’t he? had let valentine happen, had let him keep on living, had let him activate the sword, had not even been strong enough to keep him from USING it. had let kaelie get completely out of control and take it out on his people. had never seen. had never noticed. had never sensed those same hands that ran over his skin would be the ones ripping it off his comrades, killing them with agony. 

jace tell her to stop, you know this is wrong. could he really? could he tell imogen herondale to do ANYTHING? and if he DID, would she stop? valentine never had. valentine would have hit him on the mouth for daring to speak up against him, punishment would be a lot more than that if jace had dared tried to tell him what to DO. imogen didn’t struck him as someone that would had restrained her hand if her child had done the same. and wasn’t that clue enough? but then again, maybe it was that jace just didn’t WANT to believe, just couldn’t make himself believe that the one family he finally got was this. that maybe he’d been better in valentine’s hands, and what kind of thinking was that? was his new family, the royal herondales, was it all that was left of its history really that bad? was every piece of jace that dishonourable? make me proud. he didn’t think he could.

i’m doing my best. and he was, wasn’t he? even when he was just trying to follow heavy orders in even heavier times, and had no actual, practical control over any of it, he was just trying his best. if he refused, what would have kept imogen from just picking another shadowhunter to do her bid? what would then be of the downworlders that were innocent and that jace wanted to make sure to save? were a few hours in a spacious jail cell really that hard to take, for clearance and tracking the actual killer a lot faster without wasting their efforts in keeping an eye on every damn suspect that came their way? jace didn’t think so, but then, maybe he was biased, he was used to being trapped in much smaller spaces than that, after all.

you know, not too long ago, everyone thought you had demon blood. if you weren’t a herondale, she’d be locking you up too. that one had hurt most of all, hadn’t it? clary’s eyes unforgiving as she lashed out the words, and jace’s mind filled with every excruciating thought that had crossed his mind on those weeks he spent thinking he was a monster (in the very words of the woman he thought was his mother), and every bad thing he ever did, had now a cause and explanation. he’d been more than willing to destroy himself, then, to make sure all of those people that were now under suspicion, were SAFE. he had failed then of, course. so maybe that was what clary meant. that no matter on what side he was, he couldn’t make things better, that his best wasn’t good enough, and might never be, because he was cursed, as valentine had always known, because he couldn’t bring anything to the world other than death and misery, demon blood or no demon blood. 

it had been so easy, after all, for clary to stop loving him, and he never quite saw it so clearly until that moment. clary couldn’t love him, and why had he thought different? clary was loving, strong, not damaged at all, courageous and moral. she’d seen all of his flaws, all of his darkness, after all, there was no way she could had ever wanted a part of it. how could he ever blame her? clary was right. and this new name, this new family he had foolishly thought would maybe one day be a reason for pride, and dare he say, how stupidly he thought, happiness, was just another bitter, foul, gift, wrapped and handmade by valentine. valentine delivered him to imogen like a prize, knowing full well how it’d end, the herondale name damaged and jace remembering every lesson valentine had taught him on that ship about the clave. 

you deserved it. he had no answer for it. he did. he always did. didn’t he? if only you had tried harder. i really didn’t want to do this, jonathan. do you see what you put us both through when you fail? he had failed, had failed all of them. the song got faster.

he hadn’t seen alec anymore, hadn’t heard from him, hadn’t talked to him, had felt nothing but confusion and hurt through the bond, and then an odd surge of happiness. his phone had stayed silent. clary had taken simon away and hadn’t called either, hadn’t had reason to.

was that why he went? fix it, fix it. if he couldn’t fix it for anyone else... the wall, hands, claws. his fingers stumbled and then clashed on the keyboard. jace stared, panting, and for a second expected the blood, expected the blow. this is it, the end of the line. do you think you did well, jonathan? it didn’t come.

───   jace herondale,    t h o s e  o f  d e m o n  b l o o d

                                  prove it. 

it could’ve been said he’d never backed down from a challenge. but maybe it was that he had. that every other thing he’d tried to man up to, had just slipped right through his flimsy hands lately. as though every time he tried to FIX it, if you’ve made a mess, FIX it, jonathan, he was right back into the endlessly deep, bone-cold, gray, and he couldn’t beat the tide, no matter how hard he swam. he couldn’t breathe enough to keep moving, he couldn’t even get his head to stop spinning, under the pushing forces, for long enough to remember what to DO next. the whole day’d felt like a swim in the trash choked hudson, but that was becoming nothing new. what would a shadowhunter do, jonathan? fight. but for what? what is love? weakness. she’s making you weak. the only time he’d ever been wrong about him. not because jace wasn’t weak. but because he had turned himself weak, because maybe he’d just never been made of anything else but an impressive facade. it had never been clary. and he’d known it almost from the instant those words had made his knees buckle, and the nauseating disappointment in that baring stare had made him stop breathing.

finding out about his seemingly true lineage, had been the first time he’d felt maybe, just maybe, he could amount to something more than living his life in blood and death, until it caught up to him. since before his father died left him. since before his father had finally realized no amount of grooming, and making him better, would ever be enough. that even michael couldn’t make him great. michael, not valentine. never valentine. herondales work for what is good and just. had he actually believed it? he felt the urge to laugh like a maniac. he should had known better. when did anything that came from HIM came down to any good? he should have known he couldn’t trust her words. that he couldn’t trust this. or the ring around his neck. the ring that had made him feel like a fire alight inside him, and now felt like a dragging weight. a concrete symbol of everything he’d never be, just another house of cards, far from a home. he should have known valentine would never GIVE HIM anything that wouldn’t make him feel sick for having it, eventually. and yet, somehow, with the weight of the ring around his neck, he’d still hoped it’d last a little longer than that. what a stupid, stupid, thing to do. 

you deserved it. the shove was familiar. so familiar it startled him into days past, and for a second he was paralyzed. memory-foam, like the brick wall hitting his back, hitting the air out of him. crack, made his back on the wall. crack had made his nose, jaw, ribs, countless times under the force of fists just like these. he gasped in air when his hands were pinned up, but it didn’t reach his lungs. water, water, water in his lungs, burning, burning like the ties around his wrists. helpless. bound. blood, thick and syrupy down his throat. did he taste like it, or did her? he kissed her harder to find out. 

he breathed in when his hands were freed. a wave of air as dizzying as the lack of it. and he clasped fingers on her, hoping she’d do the same, and leave bruises on his limbs, again. bruises to remember her by. to make it last. to make his proof alive and black and blue. soothing. like the ones he so desperately sought out when those first hands that had held him and punished him, left him astray. lost like he felt under the weight of sudden responsibility, scraping by just to tell himself he still belonged in the new found warmth of the chain around his neck, in the name so fondly whispered to him, just barely acquired. lost like stepping on the pool of a body’s red stream. his father’s one. imogen, alec, clary. alec. he’d give that one stupid hope back, all of it, in exchange for never being slapped with the confirmation that where he truly belonged was exactly where he’d always feared to be, exactly from where he, deep down, had always known he could never escape. and as he opened his eyes, he saw older, knowing ones, looking back, and felt his skin crawl under the wanting touch. 

her hands on his fluttering stomach, familiar like the claws that had gutted it under her supervision. he wished she would. rip out his rune and leave the gaping flesh behind. all those shadowhunter children he’d fought with, known, cursed with the touch of his hand or a glance of his eyes, left stripped bare by the same hand that had many times traveled his skin, just like this. the hand he had cursed too, because maybe the taste of him was the taste of death. all because he’d fallen back into valentine’s hands like he always did. why hadn’t she got him? maybe his blood would had been enough to drown her need for more, maybe it was what she’d needed all along. maybe his blood could finally sate the infinite piles of bodies growing all around him, suffocating him, trampling him, screaming, screaming into the night, even after death. now skinless, frozen in expressions of terror, a terror, precedence might just make him inclined to believe, the touch of his lips inspired. 

the back of his head hit the wall again when her mouth found his, pounding just like when his hands had slipped as he tried to stumble his way through the alley with that same maia hot on the scent of his dripping blood. each hard kiss exploding like the fists on his face, when he could feel alec dying, dying, dying. and just as satisfying as just now, when he’d actually begged her again not to, but didn’t even try to escape, when he knew with sweet liberation, that he had it coming all along. the former, the only moment in which he could ever recall feeling what it was like to actually desperately grasp at his own life. they’d made him feel so blaringly alive then. while his brain swam in the pulsing blood of his racing heart, trying frantically to keep him awake, for alec, for just one more second, and his ears ringed with the blows he couldn’t dodge. when so many hands were gripping at him, blowing up and cracking dents on him. and he wanted more. 

that was the type of connection that felt like home. the most essential, raw, way to be connected to someone, after having them beat the walls out of you, the walls that made you even slightly human, and they’d been there, already. the hands that cracked him, had always been the ones that caught him better when he fell, after all. 

why would that change anything? 

why indeed. why had he ever even thought he was entitled to an ounce of clary? clary with her endless kindness, unbroken strength, attested purity, and that heart of fire he’d dare anyone not to want to be closer to, just to feel warm. he’d never blamed simon for it. how had he ever thought that ANYTHING in her belonged with him? by blood or love. with his death covered hands, and slippery steps on the wrecked path. no. this was where he belonged, choking on the tongue pushing his, on the punishment implied, choking on all the blood. choking on the disgust inside the eyes all over him, all day, when he’d dared think he could actually accomplish- when even valentine had tossed him away because he’d realized jace would never be the leader he had been, the leader he wanted and needed. that all those years had been for NOTHING. that he wasn’t meant to lead. had never had. and these days he finally knew what even alec had come to realize, he wasn’t meant for much of anything that wasn’t given to him, and he managed to break anything that was. 

teeth on his jaw, teeth on his throat, teeth like fangs slicing down his skin like hot butter, and jace grunted as he took it - so grateful for every sore muscle, and mixed, strained, memory that washed away his sins, by the hands of someone else. relief, relief like clary’s gentle touch had never quite brought him. he knew it now. relief like the illusion of her love had only stole away from him, with the ever present knowing parts that chanted themselves hoarse, every time they’d kissed and he’d tried to burn himself onto her, reminding him he’d never deserved it. 

she touched him like she hated him too. and it was incredibly comforting. like something about him just ticked her off. like she too was trying to wash out sins on the drag, shove, pull, and marking of him. but not her own. like he was every bad thing that had ever happened to her, every hand that had ever touched her wrong, or locked her away, and the rush of finally getting the upper hand felt just good enough to fall apart over. and definitely too good to let go. he could hardly blame her. she’d hunted him down before, and now she had him. he’d given himself before, too, but this was so much better than swift nothingness. he’d done too much, caused too much, to have earned that. 

hate on her fingertips, hate on her lips, just enough hate on both of them to make it feel, to make it last, make it last, hate imprinted on every inch of his skin. just enough to feel like he was good enough to want. oh yeah, this was easy. and he moaned. this he had always been good at.

the kind of love he’d always been good at. 

breaths mingled, as clothes were yanked open and tossed aside or pulled down. her eyes on him making him dizzy as memories overlaid: the eyes in the hospital that wanted nothing more than to rip his throat apart, the eyes at the bar like he was every confirmation she’d ever needed about his people, the blazing eyes now as his pants were down. he let her take the lead without struggle, but grasped her when she needed him, and sunk his fingers onto her thighs just enough to make her nails sting down his back in turn. he shouldn’t even be touching her back, didn’t earn as much, but he did. he did hoping she’d punish him further, and again, ad again, that they’d do this longer; that the warmth of her body would consume him until everything he’d ever broken with his hands, didn’t matter anymore. her hold on him, like the hold before the strike. werewolf fists blending without a difference to the shadowhunter ones in the ship. being awaken by the taste of his own blood, just like he had then, with cold water pushing it down his throat, instead of the glass smashing under his face, washing through the numbness and making him breathe it in, until it finally reached his lungs. 

he sunk into her and she pinned him voraciously.

to love is to destroy. and he needed to be. 

FULL NAME: Sebastian Philippe Smythe PRONUNCIATION: ˌ səˈbæsʧən fɪˈlip smaɪð MEANING: The name Sebastian is a Latin baby name. In Latin the meaning of the name Sebastian is: Venerable; revered. The twin brother of Viola in Shakespeare's Twelfth Night. REASONING: Sebastian got his first name from his French mother. Alice wanted him to have a strong sounding name that had personality, and the meaning seemed to fit perfectly for her purposes. On an additional note, the Twelfth Night play and the way Viola dances between the male and female representations and the confusion with her brother Sebastian, makes an interesting correlation to this characterization of him, in which he was born intersex. NICKNAME(S): Seb, Bas, Bastian, Bast, Sebby. PREFERRED NAME(S): Bas or Sebastian (Bast only by Magnus Bane). BIRTH DATE: April 12th, 1995. AGE: 16-17 (canon), 19-24 (regularly) ZODIAC: Aries. GENDER: Male (true gonadal intersex, female genitals). PRONOUNS: He/Him. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Mostly Homoromantic, at times Biromantic (leaning towards men). SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual (leaning towards men). NATIONALITY: French.  ETHNICITY: Caucasian. CURRENT LOCATION: Westerville OH, USA (canon). New York City, NY or Cambridge, MA USA, Harvard Law School (regular). LIVING CONDITIONS: Boarding school dorm (canon). A New York flat or a Cambridge flat. TITLE(S): (Co)Captain of the Dalton Academy Show Choir Warblers, Captain of the Dalton Academy Lacrosse Falcons. Harvard Law Graduate. (Familiar of the High Warlock of Brooklyn.)

↬  INTRODUCTION VIDEO

BACKGROUND

BIRTH PLACE: Maternité Saint Félicite. HOMETOWN:  Paris, France.  SOCIAL CLASS: Sebastian comes from two traditional families, one American, from his father’s side, and one French, from his mother’s side. His mother was a Lyon graduate, History major, a ballet dancer, and a professor. His father is a Harvard graduate that worked at a French firm after his wedding to Alice Lefevre, and, following his wife’s death, returned to America to work as a prosecutor (in the same office where he’d interned at in his first years after graduation, and where he’d grow to be a District Attorney). Sebastian has a comfortable social position, wealthy, though not wildly so. His father owns a couple of winery states from his mother’s inheritance, and other properties in France and America, from his own family side. And Sebastian has an additional trust to the one his parents saved for him, from his mother’s will, that he will get at the age of 21.   EDUCATION LEVEL: Complete HighSchool. Harvard Graduate.  Sebastian had a French education up to age 8, and then he was brought to America with his father, and raised in American boarding schools to age 14, when he was sent to live with his grandparents for two years in Paris. Due to his behavioral issues in that time, his father thought it was best for him to return to America to finish his education in Westerville, Ohio, at Dalton Academy. He has a refined education, and due to his father’s strict expectations, and his own drive to succeed, he is well read, and well versed in almost all school subjects, but chemistry. He was taught the piano by his mother and grandmother when he was a child. He is a Lacrosse Player, and knows some of Polo. He knows how to ride, and was taught about wine production by his grandfather.  FATHER: Philippe Smythe. MOTHER: Alice Lefevre. SIBLING(S): N/A BIRTH ORDER: N/A CHILDREN: Unknown. Alice Charlotte Smythe. PET(S): N/A, but has a love for dogs, and has been known to take his one-night-stand’s puppies out for jogging before said owner would wake up. One of his longest and most successful relationships was with one of those dogs, before the owner moved. OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIONSHIPS: [1] Blaine Anderson. In most, if not all, verses, canon or otherwise, Blaine Anderson will remain as Sebastian’s first true crush (first love) and first heartbreak. He was the first person Sebastian ever felt immediately connected to, that made him feel like he belonged somewhere, and before he knew it, he was way in over his head with his emotions. Even in verses where he falls in love again, Blaine will always be important to him, one way or another. (Sebastian’s current Blaine Anderson is @pianokeysandbowties.) [2] Hunter Clarington. Hunter got to Dalton during Sebastian’s senior year at the Academy and was appointed Captain of the Warblers by the dean. In most, if not all, verses, Hunter will likely be mentioned, as either a former boyfriend, or current best friend, or both. Hunter is in most verses the first time Sebastian experienced what it was like to love and be loved back, regardless of the exchange, or lack thereof, of love confessions. [3] Magnus Bane. In both Sebastian’s Shadowhunters based verses, he will have some connection to Magnus Bane, the more important one, being the one where he is the High Warlock’s familiar, or in other words, soulmate. Shadowhunters players are welcome to interact with him in that verse, under request. (Sebastian’s Magnus Bane is @magnusbanedfromperu.) [4] Patty(Pat) Spivot. In all of Sebastian’s DC Universe based verses, he will likely have some connection to Patty Spivot. she will be mentioned as either current/past fling, or best friend, and is a safe way to start a connection between Sebastian and any DC Universe based muses. In his female gendered verse, for Sidney Smythe, Pat Spivot will most likely take on Blaine’s spot as Sidney’s first crush and first recurrent relationship. (Sebastian’s Pat Spivot is @goodbyebarry​.) [5] Lydia Martin. In most, if not all, verses, canon or otherwise, Lydia Martin will/might be mentioned as Sebastian’s one and only childhood best friend, and is a welcomed connection to mention. In some cases, she will be mentioned as Sebastian’s first kiss. (Sebastian’s Lydia Martin is @bansheecried​.)  [6] Steve Rogers. In all universes, regardless of age or species, Sebastian is a fan of Captain America, and has some sort of crush on him. As a child, growing up, he felt like Steve Rogers would never judge him for who he was or how he’d been born and that was important for him, while settling into his identity. But on the actual Marvel and or Captain America universes, Steve is more than his hero, they have a established ongoing relationship, and met and started dating when Sebastian turns 19. Sebastian is fiercely protective of him.  (Sebastian’s Steve Rogers is @formercapsicle​.) IMPORTANT EVENTS: When Sebastian was born, his parents first took him as a girl, however further medical tests revealed he’d been born a true gonadal intersex child with clear female genitals but the strong presence of xy chromosomes. His father took the news with a lot less grace than his mother did, and his first instinct was to raise him strictly as a girl, and keep the truth from him as much as possible. His mother was unhappy with those plans, but accepted them, until Sebastian turned 4 years old. She realized even from that age that he wasn’t happy as a girl, and after much talk with her husband, they decided to try raising him as a boy, instead, under the name of Sebastian Philippe. Sebastian was visibly more comfortable and immediately happier under his new identity, growing from a shy child to an active, friendly one, and after a couple of years his documents were all legally changed accordingly, before he entered kindergarten. A year later, his mother got sick, and died of bone cancer. Before her death, she made her husband promise to her he would respect Sebastian’s wishes, and she told the boy the truth in terms he’d understand, leaving it to his father to explain the details once he’d grown up some more. For a brief period, Sebastian’s father considered altering his identity again, since he had never been comfortable with it, and now alone and scared he didn’t exactly know how to handle it. It took less than two months of Sebastian’s absolute misery and outrage during Summer, for his father to realize that he had to follow through with his wife’s wishes. And though his uneasiness never went away completely, and he sent the boy to a boarding school as soon as they moved to America, he accepted she was right.  When Sebastian turned 14, his father caught him making out with a boy on his bed, and sent him to live in France with his grandparents for a while, attributing his behavior and acting out to his busy schedule, and boarding schools education, and thinking that a more controlled and family involved environment would be in his best interests. Sebastian lived in Paris for two years, during which he lost his virginity, got drunk for the first time, got high for the first time, got his first fake id, and drowned missing his mother, and his self doubts into reigning all over the city.   At age 16, his father had had about enough of his trouble-making, specially when his grades started to fall towards his junior year, and brought him back to America, to finish his studies at Dalton Academy in Westerville, Ohio, the original hometown of his family, and where Sebastian had visited numerous times before. At Dalton Sebastian met his first love Blaine Anderson, a former Dalton student, and his first boyfriend, Hunter Clarington, who graduted with him in 2012. Sebastian got accepted to Yale, after his High School graduation, where he went to get his major in Political Science and later apply to Harvard Law School. MY SEBASTIAN SMYTHE HEADCANONS COMPILATION ARRESTS?: At least once during his two years living in Paris for underage drinking. PRISON TIME?: One night.

OCCUPATION & INCOME

PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME: Sebastian’s trust fund created by his parents before he was born. SECONDARY SOURCE OF INCOME: Sebastian’s additional trust fund from his mother’s will. TERTIARY SOURCE(S) OF INCOME: Sebastian’s earnings during his Law Career. APPROXIMATE AMOUNT PER YEAR: Unknown. CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: Sebastian first decided to become an attorney solely so he could prove to his father that he could. He had proved his father right on his worst assumptions his whole life, but for once, he wanted to feel like he could accomplish something other than doing his best to still baffle him after all those years. His goal was not to make his father proud as that was something he’d given up on very early in life, but to feel like he had the power to get where his father had, before, without changing who he was. Throughout the years, however, Sebastian really found his place in Law. The work of a lawyer, he found, fit his personality, his skills, and his charms perfectly, as well as his need to be in constant movement and to be constantly challenged, which was how he ended up on the top of his class, and never thought of doing anything else. PAST JOB(S): N/A brat. SPENDING HABITS: Contrary to popular belief, Sebastian is less of a spender than it would seem. He does like his expensive liquor and some frequency to his nights out, as well as a nice wardrobe, but that’s about it. He never bought anything wildly expensive, since his impromptu French yacht party that he threw at age 15, when his father said he couldn’t come over for his birthday. His style is tasteful but simple, and a lot of his modern French education influences his preference towards clean, open, designs and a simpler day-to-day life than his peers are used to.  MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: Sebastian’s most valuable possession ought to be a picture of him and his mother that he got from his grandmother when he went to live with her.

SKILLS & ABILITIES

PHYSICAL STRENGTH: Good physical strength, from years of Lacrosse, though not excessive. OFFENSE: Sebastian is not much of a fighter, but he’s been beaten enough to have learned some skills, he can throw a punch, but he prefers to be on the offense with his sharp tongue than get physical, he actually hates outright violence, he thinks it’s for people that can’t use their brains for something better, and it’s crude. DEFENSE: As said before, Sebastian got beat a few times during his childhood and teen years so he picked up a few things, and he knows how to defend himself from most attackers, if they’re not too much bigger than he is, and most importantly, how to avoid getting to altercation, or when to run. Evasion is his best defense. SPEED: Sebastian is fast. Jogging and running are his favorite types of  exercise. He was in Criss-Cross before, and he earned his position in the  Lacrosse team in grand part due to how fast he could cross the field unnoticed. His long legs and height also help him.  INTELLIGENCE: Highly intelligent and also intuitive, though most of times growing up he used that intuition to guess people’s fears and secrets, he also can understand them pretty well and use it for good, if he allows himself to care.  ACCURACY: Sebastian has great accuracy, his lacrosse shots tend to land in the goal with an almost 100% success rate. Accuracy is also needed for his dance moves and tricks.  AGILITY: Sebastian’s agility go hand in hand with his speed, it also is influenced by the fact he is a dancer. His dance moves, loose hips, and graceful steps helped him to the top of his athletic performance.  STAMINA: Sebastian has good stamina, built a lot from his running routine, though he tends to go more for the run fast and burn out approach in life.  TEAMWORK: Sebastian can work well in a team, even when he’s not directly in a leading spot. He’s shown that by being part of a sports team, and by being part of a show choir, equally. He, in fact, may prefer, if he trusts the leader, to be in the background, since with the major responsibility off his shoulders, it leaves him free to invest in his talents and use them to help boost the team to their top performance (i.e. when Hunter was made captain of the Warblers, and Sebastian designed them even bolder choreographies than ever before.) TALENTS: Dancing, Singing, playing the Piano, playing Lacrosse, Debate.  SHORTCOMINGS: Focusing for long periods of time, Heavy lifting, Assembling things, Cooking, Cleaning, Doing Laundry, Domestic tasks, Craftsman work, Fixing things.  LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: French (native), English, Italian, Spanish.  DRIVE?: Yes. JUMP-STAR A CAR?: Yes. CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: No. RIDE A BICYCLE?: Yes. SWIM?: No. (see phobia) PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?:  Yes, the piano. PLAY CHESS?: Yes. BRAID HAIR?: No. TIE A TIE?: Yes. PICK A LOCK?: Yes.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS

FACE CLAIM: Grant Gustin. EYE COLOR: Fanfiction Green. HAIR COLOR: Light Brown. HAIR TYPE/STYLE: Many, mostly longish coiffed hair. GLASSES/CONTACTS?: Glasses for reading in College. DOMINANT HAND: Right. HEIGHT: 6′2′’ feet (or 188 cm) WEIGHT: Unknown. BUILD: Slim, lean muscles, tending to the thinner side. EXERCISE HABITS: Nearly daily running and other Cardio exercises, takes on Yoga after High School, hates Lifting Weight, but does it for lacrosse. SKIN TONE: Pale, white. TATTOOS: N/A. PIERCINGS: N/A. MARKS/SCARS: A small scar on his ribs from a guy with a broken bottle. Some others from lacrosse and his active childhood, as well as some other altercations. NOTABLE FEATURES: Striking green eyes, freckled skin on his entire body, specially on his shoulders and nose, bright smirk, long legs. USUAL EXPRESSION: Charming, smirking, smug. CLOTHING STYLE: Classic clothes, suits, blazers, sweaters, cardigans, social attire unless he’s out for exercising, or alone at home.  JEWELRY: N/A. Wedding ring, verse dependent.  ALLERGIES: N/A BODY TEMPERATURE: Colder than average, Sebastian is always a little cold. DIET: Highly inconsistent. All take out, since he doesn’t cook (specially French). Doesn’t like Indian or Mexican that much. His favorite food of all are eclairs. Lots of wine. Takes coffee with courvoisier. PHYSICAL AILMENTS: N/A

PSYCHOLOGY

JUNG TYPE: ESTP ENNEAGRAM TYPE: Type 3. The Achiever ( Ego fixation: Vanity. Holy idea: Hope, Law. Basic fear: Worthlessness. Basic desire: To feel valuable. Temptation: Pushing self to always be “the best”. Vice/Passion: Deceit. Virtue: Truthfulness, Authenticity. Stress: 9. Security: 6.). MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral growing into Chaotic Good. TEMPERAMENT: Sanguine. ELEMENT: Air. PRIMARY INTELLIGENCE TYPE: Interpersonal. APPROXIMATE IQ: Unknown. MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: Low Self Steem. Unable to discern abuse to a degree. Isolates himself emotionally. Doesn’t believe he is worthy of love, or that love is for him. Fear of commitment. Fear of depending on anyone else. Fear of happiness. Creates many of the rumors and lies about himself partly to amuse himself, and partly to control what people focus on, about him. Shocks people to test them. Blows things up for himself for fear of it not working out.  SOCIABILITY: Sebastian is very sociable. He likes to be in large groups and to be the center of attention. He’ll talk on and on about himself, for he hides behind over-sharing, instead of in being private. He’s a master of diversion, and can create a riot or excitement in a crowd in seconds. Likes impersonations and to make people laugh. Likes to create an impression wherever he goes. Is extremely well versed in high society interactions, and can be charming and proper if it interests him, but he hates it. The younger he is in the verse, the more prone to chaos for chaos, and creating social trouble or stir out of boredom.  EMOTIONAL STABILITY: Sebastian is actually pretty calm, or rather chill. Few things get a rise out of him after all he’s been through. He’s used to douchebags and he’s used to being talked down to, so he’s able to respond with sharp banter but without anger behind it, he actually finds it rather stimulating depending on the case. Somethings are specially touchy, of course, such as Blaine (and even then he cooled off quickly, as soon as he screwed up, and after he realized he was out of control he was nothing but supportive and generous) or his father. Hunter is a rare exception to this, and gets Sebastian’s blood boiling in a second. But other than that he is not usually jealous, possessive or an angry person. He takes surprises in stride, and adapts easily to new situations. The stronger the emotion he has, the harder it is for him to process it, since he’s used to not having to.  OBSESSION(S): Feeding his own bad reputation (as a teen), Proving he can actually amount to something if he just wants to (as he grows up), Being out of any and all social boxes and labels people try to put on him, doing whatever he has to to make sure they know he’s not gonna put up with it. Not letting people tie him down. Being free and independent. PHOBIA(S): Large bodies of water. When Sebastian was little, while his mother was sick, he felt alone and bored a lot, since his father was always working and the entire house staff was working around the clock to help his mother’s nurses. He ran away from home one day to walk around by himself. They were living by the French countryside then, to try and give his mother some more comfort, and he found his way to a frozen lake. He fell through the ice and very nearly drowned, being saved by his babysitter at the last minute. He’s never learned to swim, and he’s hated large bodies of water ever since, as well as the cold.  ADDICTION(S): None (sex in a way). DRUG USE: Recreational pot, very rare cigarette. ALCOHOL USE: Sebastian drinks a lot, and he’s under extreme stress it can become a problem. Otherwise he drinks wine with dinner, when he can, and goes out drinking when he’s feeling bored, fidgety or anxious, or wants to avoid a feeling. He can hold his liquor pretty well, but he enjoys getting drunk and doing stupid things. It’s led to murky sexual encounters, and he’s woken up in beds he didn’t recognize but he grows out of it slowly with age, though he never quite quits his wine, it reminds him of his mother and it’s almost like comfort food. PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: Not at all. Sebastian is all about the bark and not about the bite. Hates violence and will do his best to avoid getting to that point.

MANNERISMS

SPEECH STYLE: Talks smoothly and purrs on his “rs”. Uses nicknames and petnames constantly. Likes to drawl out words and uses a lot of witty and cheeky or downright dirty remarks. Mixes in French expressions with his speech occasionally as well as British terms. Likes to quote pop culture, and involve people with his words, be it in a sensual or in an aggressive way. Never stutters, mixes casual with proper speech. Uses expressions a lot. Talks with his whole face. ACCENT: Has a slight residual French accent. QUIRKS: Smirks a lot, winks when being cheeky or specially provocative, looks people straight in the eyes, speaks with his eyes, and only looks down when anxious, or unsure, which is rare. Has dimples. Crinkles his nose when he’s being coy. Raises both eyebrows when surprised or impressed, and one when he’s being ironic or sarcastic. Speaks boldly and is straightforward and direct. Doesn’t like beating around issues, unless they’re about his own feelings.  HOBBIES: Reading, playing the piano (he stopped after his mother’s death and didn’t pick it back up until after High School), jogging, learning new things, having fun. HABITS: Going out drinking, eating take out, staying up late and sleeping in, being messier the more anxious or troubled he is, eating eclairs as hangover breakfast, drinking coffee every morning, eating sweets when he’s anxious, running to clear his head, going to the park. NERVOUS TICKS: Presses the bridge of his nose, shakes his head, grimaces, looks away, tilts his jaw, tightens his chin, swallows his words, shrugs, crosses his arms.  DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: Outdoing himself and others, proving himself the best at everything (including at being a bad boy), being accomplished.  FEARS: Letting someone in and being abandoned. Depending on someone to catch him and falling. Getting too attached. Not being good enough and really being the lie he created for himself. Not being actually good for anything but sex. Not being able to commit. Dying alone. POSITIVE TRAITS: Enthusiastic, Calm, Resilient, Forward, Charming, Curious, Supportive, Open Minded, Excitable, Free, Spontaneous, Understanding, Forgiving, Committed and Loyal (despite his beliefs), Honest. NEGATIVE TRAITS: Self doubting, Reckless, Speaks before he thinks, Self harming (with alcohol and sex), Out of control when he’s afraid, Afraid of love, Unsure, Afraid of the future, Takes on people he cares about but is still afraid to give himself to them, Mistakes sex for all he has to give. Daddy issues. Doesn’t know how to handle grief. SENSE OF HUMOR: Sarcastic, ironic, dirty, forward, fun, intelligent, cheeky. DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: Yes, in all languages. CATCHPHRASE(S): “Do I look like a freshman?” “It’s all fun and games until it’s not.” “Hey, Blaine, hello everyone else.” “And as sexy as that sounds.” “Doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you.”  “Super hot.” “I can't stand the stench of public schools.” “You think you’re that bad?” “I’m tired of being nice.”  “Being nice sucks.” “That’s the beauty of the internet, it stays with us forever.” FAVORITE QUOTE: “Last time I was there I met the man of my dreams on the dance floor. We broke up about twenty minutes after we met.“ FAVORITE QUOTE (ABOUT): “I like messy people; people who don’t fit in a box or stay between the lines, but whose integrity is greater than any rule book and whose loyalty is stronger than blood.” — Jim Wern

FAVORITES

ACTIVITY: Fun-seeking, sex. ANIMAL: Dogs. BEVERAGE: Wine. BOOK: The Little Prince (his mother used to read it to him). CELEBRITY: I think Captain America / Steve Rogers counts. COLOR: Green. DESIGNER: Many. FOOD: French/Eclairs. FLOWER: Daffodil. GEM: Emerald. HOLIDAY:  Halloween. MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: Car. MOVIE: Captain America franchise. MUSICAL ARTIST: Many. QUOTE/SAYING: “Selfish people live longer.” SCENERY: Urban. SCENT: Minty, cologne, coffee. SPORT: Lacrosse. SPORTS TEAM: Dalton Falcons. TELEVISION SHOW: Queer as Folk. WEATHER: Summer. VACATION DESTINATION: France.

ATTITUDES

GREATEST DREAM: Feeling accomplished GREATEST FEAR: Failing, not being worthy. MOST AT EASE WHEN: Surrounded by people, having fun. LEAST AT EASE WHEN: Cornered. WORST POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN: Everyone deciding he really has nothing else to give, and him having it proved to him by failing at his future. BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: Believing in himself. BIGGEST REGRET: Throwing that slushie at Blaine. MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: Being kept from seeing Blaine in the hospital. BIGGEST SECRET: He craves to be someone else, doesn’t think he is a good person. TOP PRIORITIES: Proving himself, rattling society, gathering attention, feeling wanted, being impressive, not fitting social norms.