His Butler, LustfulMore Like This
The rightful head of the household stares distastefully at himself in the mirror as his faithful butler happily tugs folds and creases into crisp edges. The young earl's small lips turn into a frown as his single blue eye surveys the atrocity of an outfit Sebastian clothed him in-a large mass of blue and white frills and lace courtesy of his 'fiancée.' Exhaling he feels his body stiffen as Sebastian fastens a hat with equal decoration atop his master's head, a smirk tugging on his lips dying to burst into laughter.
"Sebastian " Ciel growls, meeting the butler's red eyes in the mirror, " what is this?"
"Party attire." The butler replies simply, as if his master had asked what day it is today, "Miss Elizabeth insisted you wear this to her party."
"A party I've been trying to veto for the past three days." Ciel sighs, his frown sinking, "Whatever was she thinking, holding an extravagant party in my home, a place of business not play."
"I think she just wants to spend some t
His Butler, DesireMore Like This
He's falling into darkness, into nothing without so much someone to catch him. To save him from this eternity of nothingness. He opens his mouth, knowing the words he has to shout for salvation but none come. Struggling he tries again, the dark ground approaching quickly, the fires of death growing on the horizon. Still no words, not even the slightest squeak.
As he approaches his doom he can hear the screams of his parents, his own and his aunt. One last try, that's probably all the time he's got until he dies. Just one more time to see if he can overcome this sheer fear that's engulfed him to try and push through it and save himself.
And his soul.
"SEBASTIAN!" He cries, his voice loud and powerful, ricocheting around him.
Nothing. His servant does not come, but his death does.
Sebastian may have not come in the dream but he bolted into Ciel Phantomhive's room right as he heard his master's bloodcurdling scream. Thrusting the door open he prepares to see the worst, maybe one of
His Butler, BrokenMore Like This
He finishes the last aesthetic touches on today's dessert for his young Lord-a simple chocolate cake with elaborate icing detail and fruit. Smiling fondly Sebastian places the cake on the silver platter along with the other pieces needed for Ciel's afternoon tea.
Creaking open the door he sees the young man slumped over atop his desk. The boy didn't get as much sleep needed as he should have. Feeling a bit guilty for his master's lack of energy Sebastian sets the small meal down, approaching Ciel. His one exposed blue eye is closed in sleep, his chest rising and falling rhythmically as his dark black almost blue hair cascades down the right side of his face-almost completely masking his eye patch.
Placing a gentle hand on Ciel's shoulder Sebastian gives him a slight shake, leaning in close memories of last night still brushing through his mind. "Lord " he whispers in Ciel's ear, "Ciel you have fallen asleep, it's time to wake up "
Wearily Ciel pries open his single eye,
One Hell of a Butler - Part 3More Like This
The Butler Red
The Spring breeze kissed my face as I sat back in the garden chair, my hand rest gently against my stomach.
I had just eaten my fill of the best chocolate and raspberry parfait that I would ever consume in my lifetime. Sure, now I was bloated and felt somewhat sick, overendulging in the sweet, sugar soaked goodness, but at least the overwhelming feeling concerning Sebastian had disappeared.
I immediately felt the urge to curl up into the seat, tiredness overwhelming me. I was exhausted and for what reason?
Closing my eyes I found myself slipping further back into the chair.
"Sebastian..." My voice wavered, resounding as no more than a whisper, my eyes remaining closed.
"Sebastian, I'm tired..." Still no reply. Lacking the patience, I give up and relaxing completely I mutter to myself sleepily before dozing off.
Dreamed of blood, murder and death.
These dreams were an every
Dance With The DevilMore Like This
The music floats through the air, happily and lazily without a second thought. Every note wafts into the listener's ears as the hourglass figures of elegant women pressed to dashing men flit around. Women's skirt fabric shifts in my ears as does the shuffling of the men's feet. Everything seems like it's out of a fairy tale, like the kind mother would read to me if I behaved that day. All the girls perfect, the opposite sex their mirror image but in what they desire, everything seems so perfect.
As it should, after all this is a Phantomhive ball held at the newly restored Phantomhive manor. Why shouldn't they all glide around the floor like the meaningless pawns they are, mere decoration in my vile name. Let them dance, let their ignorance scar me further for tonight is a night of 'celebration' as my Aunt Red calls it. To be honest I have no idea what could possibly be 'celebrated' in the return of my person. She calls it a blessing I call it another adjective. Either way one slices it