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short-yandere-stories · 1 year

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okay so---i read the lil fic of reader friendzoning sebastian and i saw your requests were open so here I AM-

Could I get a fanfic of Sebastian with a reader who ✨does✨ have a crush on him but ignores his advances because she happens to have a rather low self-esteem and simply "doesn't want to get the wrong idea" —if possible? if you can't either way it's cool .u.

I am so glad you're here! :D And hoo boy I can recognize myself in that for sure and this would 100% be me hands down. Also sorry for the tiiiiime this has taken meeeeee ugh life is. Annoying. Something I do know for certain, however, is that a yandere Sebastian would not stand for any low self-esteem. Especially not from someone as wonderful and perfect as you.

This can be read as a standalone thing or sort of a continuation of the last one!

Yandere is mainly at the very end because it became just so nice and soft and aaaaahh

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

SFW, no major TW/CW, but mentions reader with low self-esteem feeling insecure and disliking themselves. :✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

"Not Good Enough for Me?"

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

"Milady, are you alright? You've been staring through that window for quite some time now." Jumping at the sudden voice, you turn around, gaze landing on the tall, elegant butler peeking in through your door. At your acknowledgment, he takes a step into your room, closing the door behind him with a soft 'click'.

"You have not moved from this spot since at least about half an hour ago. I saw you standing there while I assisted Finnian in the gardens." You look away, nervously picking at the skin around your nails. "I'm fine," you say with a forced laugh. "Just got lost in thought I guess." Slowly, Sebastian moves closer to you, making sure that you can clearly see him at any point. He closely monitors your body language, ready to stop the second he sees you flinching or turning away.

"Is it about my confession during the afternoon tea last afternoon?" He asks, hitting the nail on its head. He has to keep a chuckle in as you wince. "I meant no disrespect or harm, I can assure you," he continued. "And if I have made you uncomfortable with any of my advances, I-" "No!" You yelp, cutting him off. You snap around to finally look at him, eyes wide in a panic and hands thrown up in front of you, waving in dismissal. "I mean..." you continue in a timid tone, cheeks heating up at your outburst.

"You didn't make me uncomfortable at all, Sebastian," you say, eyes pleading with him to believe you. "It was actually really sweet and it made me extremely happy to hear. I just..." you trail off, looking down at the floor, unable to keep his gaze any longer.

"I just don't think you'd want to be with someone like me." Your voice grows increasingly quiet the longer the sentence goes on, and even Sebastian with his demonic powers and enhanced senses has to strain to catch your words.

"What?" he breathes, confusion and bewilderment etched on his face.

You turn back to face the window, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt of comfort, trying your hardest to keep the tears threatening to form at bay.

"I just... I'm nothing special. I'm not really pretty or smart... I'm clumsy and mess up, and I can't ever do anything right." Tears blur your vision as you try to keep your voice from shaking. "I don't know why you'd want to be with me," you confess, finally, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

"You deserve someone better than me."

If he had a heart in the same way that humans do, Sebastian was sure that it would have shattered upon hearing those words. How had he missed your feelings in regard to yourself like this? The anger he felt aimed towards himself for missing such a crucial thing had completely blocked out the meaning of your words for a moment until they finally registered. You loved him. More than that, you'd avoided his advances and tried to push him aside not because you didn't reciprocate, but because you didn't think you were good enough.

In a flash, he's by your side, wrapping his strong arms around you and pulling you into his chest. Your hands weakly cling to his waistcoat, tears wetting the fabric of his shirt. "Sweetheart," he whispers, raising one gloved hand to pet your hair.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not noticing how you felt about yourself and adding to that burden," he begins, holding your crying form close. "But you're wrong. About all of it." You cry harder and try to push him away, but he doesn't budge.

"You are special. So very special to me, darling, you don't even know half of it. You have the most beautiful soul of any person I have ever met. I love every single part of you. I love the color of your eyes, the way your entire face lights up when you smile. I love your mind and the way it works. Sure, you mess up sometimes, but every human does! It has never once made me think less of you. If anything, watching you trip over nothing only makes me see you as even more endearing than before." Relaxing his hold on you enough for him to bend down and look you in the eyes, he continues. "I love everything about you, flaws and all. I wouldn't change anything about you." One of his hands wipes away a few tears from your cheek before gently cradling it in his palm.

"There is no one that could be 'better for me' than you. You're perfect in my eyes. I hope that I can make you see that too, someday," he whispers.

More tears flow down your cheeks, and for a moment, Sebastian thinks that he has done something wrong, but then your face cracks into a smile. "Do you really mean that?" you ask meekly. "Or are you just saying it to make me feel better?" Instead of giving you a verbal answer, Sebastian leans in and presses his cold lips against yours. For a moment, you're unresponsive, frozen in shock. Then, your hands grab his shoulders, and you kiss back.

The feeling of your soft, warm lips against his is something Sebastian has dreamed of for so long. He can barely believe that it's happening. Your warmth, the softness of your body pressed against him is everything he ever wanted.

Possessive thoughts flash through his mind, solidifying what he already knew. This was where you belonged. By his side, in his arms. With him, forever. He would make sure that your thoughts never hurt you ever again. No matter how many times he had to reassure you, hold you, and help push those negative feelings aside, he would.

You were finally his. You finally reciprocated his feelings, and Sebastian would be damned if he let anything -- your own thoughts included -- hurt you.

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

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irides-solstice · 3 months

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‿̩͙‿ ༺ 🕷 ༻ ‿̩͙‿

You shriek as a tight pull on your hair forces you to lift your head. Your puffy eyes finally greeting his golden sunset like eyes. "Now darling was that so hard?" He droned out bored, caging his arms around you. He speaks to you in a tone dripped with scorn, before he sharply inhales to relax himself. You should have kept yourself in check. It's his fault really, how can he leave you alone for that long and not expect what was essentially a temper tantrum.

Yet you can't stop your heart from fluttering at the extra attention. Yes, you were acting like a brat, but really all you wanted was his attention... Despite his anger, the velvety texture of his voice was soothing to you.

Lulling you into a false sense of tranquillity. Seeing your lack of a response, his eyes only got that much sterner. Afterall, if you can't behave yourself in public... Perhaps he should lend a hand.

What good is an unruly pet?

‿̩͙‿ ༺ 🕷 ༻ ‿̩͙‿

#Ch: Claudiee 💝✨#Black Butler #kuroshitsuji #claude faustus #black butler imagines #claude faustus x reader #Kuroshitsuji imagines #Anime imagines #Manga #Anime #Brat reader #drabble #claude x reader #Claude faustus x reader #yandere claude #oops I forgot this acc existed and literally just realised I should post more-#Black butler x reader #ᴛʜɴx ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ 💟✨

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scribbleseas · 9 days

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in love & in war, drabble 2: the one where you meet him

Description: Join Ciel, the Earl of Phantomhive, as he embarks on one of the most difficult challenges of his professional life: getting you to fall in love with him in order to become the next chairman of TransAtlantica— your father’s vast shipping empire.

Warnings: None, save for some explicit sexual content down the line! This is just a lighthearded series for fun! Think Bridgerton :)

Author’s Note: I’m sorry for the wait! I dropped this series premiere and academia decided to just become torture from then until basically now! But now I’m a bit more free to get some writing, and hopefully I can get my content consistent again! I’ve missed you all so much. I hope you guys like this drabble! I wrote it in one sitting so I will probably make some edits/additions down the line, you know how it is lol.

Also, if you would like to be put on a taglist for my fics, please comment and I will tag you for each update! Or if you only want to follow specific fics, you can let me know in your comment and I will make individual taglists for each fic :).

Happy Reading,

Dan <3

⇐ PREVIOUS DRABBLE | NEXT DRABBLE ⇒

Y/N Y/L/N

“You filled my entire dance card?” you lamented, feeling your resolve crumble as you scanned over the small piece of cardstock paper’s lineup of 20 names, each aligned with a planned piece from the ensemble: Lord Alexis Cuthbert, Mr. Nigel Crawford, The Honorable Geoffrey Wilson… The list included a plethora of noble lords and heirs to either significant corporations or well-respected aristocratic bloodlines.

“That is in accordance with the terms of the deal, yes,” your mother insisted, simpering at you while Daphne hooked long diamond teardrops in your ears, set in gold to match the thick necklace resting on your chest. “There were many house calls made about this specific inquiry, and they were all qualified young men.” By the tone of her voice, you could tell she felt she was doing you a favor.

But truly, meeting a man during a dance was excruciating. There was no respectable escape if the conversation was painfully dry or offensive. All you could do was pray for the ending measure of the music and make a swift exit.

You sighed, turning your attention back to the list: Mr. Jack Morrison, Lord Clarence Abery, The Honorable George Ackland…

“I understand. Thank you,” you surrendered, knowing fully well that there was no changing this list without disrespecting those on it already. You were fortunate that your parents were giving you the freedom to choose your suitor in the first place. Most of your peers had been betrothed since their birth, promised to a relative or a family friend as one half of a smart match.

Mr. Neil Gayton, Lord George Cuross…

You were the Earl of Richmond and founder of TransAtlantica’s only child. That was two inheritances—even if you couldn’t assume all control. Your positions should have locked you into a smart match from the start, but your parents decided to give you a chance at a love match, too. A chance at finding real love just as they did: through a cultivated list of requirements.

As painful and awkward the prospect was, it certainly wasn’t the worst outcome for a woman in your position.

“Lord Ciel Phantomhive?” your eye caught his name before you could properly descend through the list because you couldn’t believe it was there of all places. You knew the Lord Phantomhive to be incredibly private, skipping most if not all social gatherings and public appearances. The public rumored that he guarded his appearance closely because he was one of Her Majesty’s advisors and private investigators. You were most accustomed to seeing his name in stately cursive at the bottom of correspondences with your father and his associates.

“His butler called on his behalf the other day,” Daphne answered for your mother, smiling apologetically for interjecting. “He said he will be attending the charity ball tonight and wishes to meet you.”

“He is more than qualified and interested,” your mother said, “your father has always liked him.”

“Father likes his business strategy, no one knows him,” you answered, letting the dance card fall from your wrist limply. There was no merit in analyzing the names on it— you knew there was no escaping the evening.

Your mother rolled her eyes, unwilling to engage with your technicalities. “Come now. Our guests are trickling in. We should greet them with your father,” she offered her arm to you. You accepted, allowing her to guide you out of the suite with Daphne in tow. Whenever TransAtlantica co-hosted events at the Langham Hotel, your family rented the penthouse to finish preparations without having to make a commute from the estate.

. . .

CIEL PHANTOMHIVE

Acquiring TransAtlantica is not an option; it is an inevitability. Acquiring TransAtlantica is not an option; it is an inevitability, Ciel Phantomhive reminded himself with every step closer to The Langham Hotel’s grand ballroom, trudging through formalities and tepid greetings in the populated hall leading to it. It was the phrase he used to justify all of this unyielding frustration at each step: listening to Sebastian as he attempted to break down the confounding science of charming a young woman into comprehensible steps, and now, burdening his already-fraught calendar with unnecessary social appearances just to put himself in Lady Y/n’s path.

Unnecessary social appearances such as The British National Society for Aid and to the Sick and Wounded in War’s annual ball in partnership with TransAtlantica—one of many charitable foundations that the shipping company partnered with. TransAtlantica covered the costs of a lavish evening and invited their extensive networks of business moguls and the aristocracy to partake in raffles throughout the formal night. All proceeds went to the medical organization, and all publicity went to the company.

Until this year, Ciel was content with having Sebastian send his regrets to TransAtlantica alongside a hefty donation to maintain goodwill. But now, maintaining goodwill with this corporation and the family behind it would no longer suffice. He needed to make a personal appearance both at the ball and in the middle of Lady Y/n’s dance card. After Y/n cooly rebuffed him after moments of light teasing Sebastian made the appropriate arrangements with one of the maids to put Ciel.

While Ciel was well aware of the stubborn reputation proceeding her, few dared take such a tone with him. And for so little. Defensive, she was! Was it such a crime to be transparent about how it was careless to step onto a street without looking both ways? If Ciel hadn’t saved her at the perfect moment— even if Sebastian orchestrated the timing — she would have been hit!

“Find Lady Y/n when it comes time for your waltz,” Sebastian reminded Ciel as they entered the ballroom, “you are only on her dance card for a single number. The point is that you make a better impression this time.” The bloody butler prodded at Ciel’s lack of romantic finesse— a talent that a sleazy demon might have in surplus. Apparently, approaching her first and taking the time to see himself onto her dance card would prove Ciel’s interest in her.

“And of course, you must remember your apology, sir,” Sebastian’s words were coated in honey, the most obvious tell of his amusement. The prospect of his master having to express his regrets. “You bruised her pride,” he explained.

In response, Ciel sent him a fleeting gaze, heavy with irritation. Exhaustion after hours of coaching and correcting, endless explanations as to why Sebastian insisted that Y/n could never connect with him properly if he failed to acknowledge her grievances.

“I will,” he answered simply, clenching his jaw at the thought of verbalizing anything along the lines of ‘I apologize.’ He never had to apologize for his actions—not ones that were truly malevolent, and certainly not ones that were decently-natured. Although it seemed the exception was for the daughters of incredibly prominent figures whom he needed to charm. So much so that Sebastian had Ciel practice the series of words in front of a mirror.

Acquiring TransAtlantica is not an option; it is an inevitability.

The phrase had Ciel’s shoulders relaxing into proper posture, his tense jaw relaxing with reluctance. He took a gradual inhale in, scanning the room for Lady Y/n. He found her in moments, catching her pale green gown and its gold accents shining in the warm chandelier light. She was engaged in a jubilant exchange with the wife of Selwyn Westley, the owner of a prominent watch company.

“Very good, my Lord,” Sebastian chirped, merely watching Ciel build his resolve. He’d seen the Earl tackle a number of more threatening offenses: vengeful angels, homicidal circus clowns, and corrupt monopolists with less agonizing. “There is absolutely no time to waste,” he added in reference to the rest of TransAtlantica’s suitors (they were longshot candidates, at best) as they readied themselves among their own servants. Several men’s eyes lingered on the small dance card that hung from Lady Y/n’s wrist, looking to secure a spot in the moments before the first dance started.

It was that particular thought that had the corner of Ciel’s mouth twisting upwards, satisfied. Courtship could never be left to chance. It was a strategy— a war. How could they hope to defeat him when they couldn’t even manage to get themselves in front of her?

. . .

Y/N Y/L/N

“And that’s when I told him: I think I left them in the carriage!” Inara Johnson laughed riotously, briefly touching your arm as you laughed, mirroring the young woman’s impish grin. She had been recounting a sordid story about her courtship with her husband since it seemed your mother was quite liberal in spreading the word about your season beginning. Even still, Mrs. Johnson was quite a breath of fresh air after you suffered nine suitors trying too hard to impress you.

“I can’t imagine what you could have done without a spare change of clothing!” You managed through laughs, ignoring the pinch in your cheeks after hours of simpering and entertainment. You were only about halfway through the merriment, the orchestra completing a lively movement to start transitioning to the first waltz of the evening.

You only had a few moments to find your next suitor: Lord Ciel Phantomhive.

“I should find my husband for this waltz! I certainly hope you find yours quite soon, my Lady, I’ll be looking forward to your wedding,” she chuckled, parting with you after a playful wink.

“Enjoy the night,” you nodded, unsure of how to start your search for a faceless man as Mrs. Johnson found Mr. Johnson in seconds. He’d only been paces away, engaged with your parents about something you couldn’t quite pick up.

You took another look at your card to ensure that Ciel Phantomhive was indeed your next dance partner, but just as your gaze caught his name again, the man who pulled you from the carriage approached you. The very one that you were content with never laying eyes on again.

“Lady Y/n, just the perfect timing. Were you looking to join this waltz now?” He dared to ask, his sapphire eye just as breathtaking as it had been, his lips turning in the same mildly amused manner. Trying to appear aloof. “Or were you uninterested in sharing your time with the likes of mediocre destitution such as myself?” he asked, repeating the words you threw at him.

Was he trying to get a rise out of you?

You felt your face warm from his attempts as you fashioned your falling expression into a sparking grin. The future-Countess-of-Richmond-grin that you relied on so much. There was no losing your temper in this environment without mortifying your family name.

“Unfortunately, my dance card is full,” you answered with false kindness, feeling the young man see straight through your pleasant deception. That was one of the only lines a young noblewoman had to tell a man to leave her to her lonesome; it was well-known by all of polite society. “Perhaps another time. Though I really do need to find my next—” you started, starting to take a step to walk around him, but he side-stepped in your path.

“—After I saved your life last week, I thought you might find time for a dance,” he interjected, causing the remnants of your Countess smile to falter. “That’s why I had my butler secure this waltz with you.”

Your blood ran cold, your smile finally melting off your face. He couldn’t be…could he? It would only make sense, you supposed. A person astute enough to even impress your father.

“I was scheduled with the Earl of Phantomhive,” you forced yourself to answer placidly. You readjusted your expression, unwilling to give the man the satisfaction of visibly surprising you.

“Then you found me already,” Lord Phantomhive replied, all too satisfied. You didn’t even find him! He found you!

You failed to conceal your thoughts, judging by the condescending mirth in his grin. “Shall we?”

. . .

CIEL PHANTOMHIVE

“I— yes, I suppose we shall,” Lady Y/n cleared her throat, despite herself. She laced her arm with Ciel’s as he guided her to the center of the ballroom, more than certain that they were attracting attention, even if most people couldn’t connect his appearance to his name. The very reputation that filled a room enough to substitute his physical presence, most of the time.

Technically, he didn’t have to bow to Y/n because he outranked her, but as Sebastian insinuated, apparently Ciel needed to nurse her shallow pride.

Acquiring TransAtlantica is not an option; it is an inevitability.

Taking Y/n’s hand, Ciel led her into the first steps of the waltz. She seemed more interested in studying him than starting a conversation, mechanically following the dance while her mind was elsewhere. He allowed her to dissect the performance he put on for her for a few long moments before speaking.

“I wanted to take this opportunity to extend my sincerest apologies to you, Lady Y/l/n,” Ciel said, visualizing the script that he and Sebastian formulated. He had to make the words seem genuine as if he’d given them enough thought to be considerate, but not so much that he was reciting them. He guided Y/n through a turn, feeling her back tense under his hand.

“I should have helped you find the man who took your things rather than demean you with quips that failed to land,” Ciel continued, taking her continued silence as a bid to continue. His skin crawled at his words, betrayal bristling down his spine. He didn’t apologize. It was fundamentally wrong. And yet, for TransAtlantica, he would. Perhaps this company was the Earl of Phantomhive’s only real love match. “I know I seem far from deserving, but I do hope for your forgiveness. If you give me the opportunity, I hope to show you that I can be,” he continued, fashioning a similar helpless frown that Sebastian used to appeal to frustrated women.

Y/n’s face was unchanged, the same politely engaged expression with clear notes of frustration layered beneath. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy—she was a petulant heiress unused to not having her way with people. She hummed, tilting her head as she took another moment to dissect his expression. The movement caused her long earrings to sway, drawing Ciel’s attention to the length of her neck and the complicated waves she had her hair styled in.

“You should have helped me,” Y/n agreed gruffly. “A proper gentleman would have, after all,” she mused.

Was the apology not gentlemanly enough? Ciel felt it exceeded expectations.

“I would…treasure the chance to prove myself to be a gentleman, then.” He answered, using part of a line Sebastian fed him. The demon did not have any foresight into the future, but after investigating Y/n with the intensity he would look into a criminal with, he had decent intuition regarding how these planned interactions would unfold. Sebastian accurately assumed she wouldn’t accept that apology.

“The chance to prove yourself?” Y/n repeated, her interest piqued at the proposition. Finally—a new emotion on her face besides detached politeness. “That sounds like quite the endeavor, my Lord.”

“It may very well be, should you let me accompany you on a promenade next week,” Ciel answered, watching her face redden. “If you might overlook my…” his mouth was drier than cotton, “deficiencies.”

He nearly choked on the word. Bloody Hell.

“Perhaps I might find time,” Lady Y/n answered, and Ciel’s heart soared for all the right reasons. He had a chance at the corporation, after all. It seemed acting was just as suspiciously close to lying as Sebastian had insisted.

Acquiring TransAtlantica is not an option; it is an inevitability.

. . .

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pop-roxs · 9 months

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hiiii idk if i wanna post this on ao3 or not so you guys tell me pleaseeee

relationship(s): grelle x reader words: 533 extra: no warnings should apply, reader is just a sickly little guy and grelle takes care of them(noooo i didnt write this cuz im sick rn wdymmmm)

reader is gn!!!

You laid in bed, lips slightly parted, which allowed you to breathe, as you heard footsteps drawing closer to you. You felt a weight be placed on the edge of the bed you laid nearest to, and a hand touched your forehead. You opened your eyes.

“Hey, sweetheart. Are you feeling better yet?” the redhead asked. You shook your head, and she frowned. “I’m sorry…”

You were going to speak up, to tell her that she had nothing to apologize for, but your clogged nose and itchy throat decided that you weren’t going to speak comfortably for a little while. You moved her hand from your forehead down to your cheek, and she leaned down to kiss the spot where her hand previously was.

“Do you need me to get you anything? You have water, tissues, and medicine when need be… Do you need something warm to eat?” You nodded. “Alright, darling. You wait right here.” Grelle stood up from the bed, walking out of the room and presumably to the kitchen. You turned over to close your eyes again.

You couldn’t help but feel a bit bad about all of this. You got just a little cold, and now Grelle is all over the apartment trying to make you feel better. You didn’t like these thoughts, so you let your body relax, and you drifted into a nap.

Grelle slowly opened the bedroom door, and once she saw you asleep, she made sure to be extra quiet as she made her way around the bed and to the side you were sleeping on. She gently placed the bowl of soup she had made on the nightstand next to you, crouching down in front of your burning face. She pouted. “Poor dear,” she whispered, as she caressed your hair and placed a few kisses along your cheek. She paused when she heard you grumble and saw your squinted eyes

“Good morning.” It was 1:24 PM. “You look awful. I wish I could do more to help.” You reached your arms out to her, beckoning her to join you in bed. “Oh, really? You’re so sweet to me. Of course, ma cherie.~”

You scooted back to make some room for her, and she gently pulled up the covers, sliding underneath them and holding you close. She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, both your arms around each other. Her smile was sweeter than ever. You pulled her closer, resting your head against her chest, but she could tell that you were trying hard to not get any mucus on her.

“My love, you look uncomfortable. As your partner, it is my sworn duty to look after you when you are sick. Don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself.” You looked up at her for a moment, before sniffling, and deciding to just tuck your face into the crook of her neck.

She pet your head once more, holding you tight and whispering in your ear, “I love you so much, my dear. You’re safe with me. Rest, now. I’ll take care of you.” So you closed your eyes, drifting into another nap, this time feeling as if you’ll have sweet dreams.

im gonna die right here also yes. i reused the grelle divider from my valentines fic. leave me alone i couldnt be bothered to go looking for a good panel to take a picture of

#i think all the fic writer in me needed was to be sick because this is the second drabble ive written while being a suffering little guy #grell sutcliff #grelle sutcliff #grell sutcliff x reader #grelle sutcliff x reader #grell x reader #grelle x reader #black butler x reader #kuroshitsuji x reader #black butler #kuroshitsuji #sick reader #sickfic #fanfart #water posts

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blackbutlerbrainrots · 22 days

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First post!! This all started with a brainrota and ended with a full on fic😭😭😭 Anyways, there will most probably part 2

WC: 1.8K

Now imagine this, you were the oldest daughter of the Phantomhive household. You had everything you would ever want. A caring mother, a responsible father, new set of clothes everyday and you were basically spoiled rotten. Given that you were Vincent and Rachel’s first daughter and child, Angelina (Madam Red) was very fond of you. Luckily, you didn’t inherit your mother’s asthma and that made your mother’s worries disappear.

You were a perfect mix of Rachel and Vincent. You have your mother’s overall attitude while you have your father’s cunning and calculative mindset.

At a young age, Vincent knew you picked up a few traits of his manipulative side. He taught you just like how he would teach himself, although not that harshly. You are after all his only daughter that he wishes to cherish. Vincent taught you all the ways he could, teaching you how to be the next Queen’s loyal guard dog.

On the other hand, Rachel was nothing like her husband. She saw you as a child, flesh and blood, who was naive and kind. In which, you are but in her perspective, you were one of a kind child who was obedient and honest. And she would like it that way.

Both Rachel and Vincent are somewhat isolating. Vincent knows that he should let you out of the manor but Rachel was very adamant about you staying. Lest you get dirty by all of those… nobles.

Everything changed on your 8th birthday, where the couple announced that Rachel was pregnant. You were happy, of course! You would get another sibling that you’ve always wanted! But there was this sinking feeling deep in your chest that what if…

“What if I’m not their favorite anymore?”

You know it was childish of you to think of that. Even if all the attention you got from your parents were to move from you to your unborn sibling. You often thought about whether you hated your sibling. After all, all the attention that you got was stolen away from you.

How wrong you were.

You never once hated your siblings, much less your younger brothers. They were everything to you. Your parents were glad that you accepted your brother’s even with the age gap. They were relieved to know you accepted your brothers warmly. And it should’ve stayed that way.

Until… That happened.

Fast forward to the twin’s 10th birthday party. You grew up to be a carbon copy of your father. Whether it may be your gestures, how you talk, even all the way to how you sit. Vincent thought every time he saw you, he felt like looking at a mirror. You were just like him. Not that Vincent himself was complaining. Oh no, no, no! He was proud of you for being just like him. Although you were still just like your mom in different ways too.

You were known in high society as the fashion queen. All the noble girls envy and admire you all the same. There was even one time where you despised a noble who was throwing a banquet and openly said;

“I’m not stepping one foot towards that… rancid place”

You said it in a calm manner. More like a threatening tone. Ever since you found out that the noble who lives there was a secret pedophile, you never wanted to go everywhere it went.

Who knew you saying a statement will get a harsh blow into that noble's reputation?

Not a single noble lady that was invited showed up at the designated time. And that is where it hits the Queen. You were no ordinary Lady, it would seem like it.

And from being a spoiled Phantomhive, you were known as the Queen’s goddaughter. The Queen was very fond of you, and she makes sure it shows.

It would seem like you had everything you ever wanted. Until that happened.

—--------------------

You were in your room, getting ready for the twin’s 10th birthday party. You were excited to see the Twin’s reaction to your gift. You know that the younger twin has asthma, inherited from your mother. And you tried all the best ways to make sure that he was included in everything you all did as a family.

While your personal maid was doing your hair, you both heard a loud crash outside. You were about to get up, but it seems like your maid beat you to it.

“Stay here, my lady. I would check it out quickly and come back here as soon as possible. You already look splendid in your necklace and rings. And just look at you! You’re going to make the gentlemen swoon head over heels for you~!”

You sigh. “I sometimes envy your optimistic attitude, Lily.” The said maid giggled cheerfully. “I’ll be right back!” She said as she was leaving. You then look at the mirror in front of you. You were covered in jewels, most are probably gifts from the Queen herself.

You were left alone in your room and it was quiet. You put your hand on your forehead. “I know it should be quiet, but not this quiet, no?” You asked yourself. You often find yourself talking to yourself whenever you are alone. And you have a point there. It was a birthday party but the eerie quietness made it feel like a funeral instead.

5 minutes…. Turns to 10 and that turns to 20..

“Just where the hell is she!?” You weren’t one to be irritated easily. But you aren’t fond of being late, especially to your younger brother’s birthday.

You stood up from your chair to find out why she took so long.

And you consider yourself to be smart. But that decision might’ve been the worst one you ever made.

Outside, you saw Lily’s detached head on the stairwell. You put a hand on your mouth to prevent you from screaming. “What is going on!?” Your first thought was to make sure your younger brothers were alive and well. You tried to move quietly and swiftly but your dress makes it more difficult.

You also found your jewelry in the way of you moving quietly so you quickly took them off. Except for your earrings and ring. They were a gift from your family so how could you ever throw it away?

“Is mother and father safe? Are they with Ciel!?”

You heard some voices getting closer and closer to where you were so you ran as quietly as you could in a room.

“Man, can’t we already just snatch those boys up?”

“Don’t yer get impatient now, boy! We still have to find that brat!”

You heard one of the men, who you were sure was not a servant, talk, having a deep scottish accent. You put both of you hands on your mouth to control your breathing and to prevent yourself from getting a panic attack. You couldn’t afford to get caught now.

You heard the voices get further and further again and you sighed. Your breathing has become more steady and calm. Just as you were about to open the door-

“What a delectable birdie we findin’ today boys!” It was unexpected. “B-but I thought-!” The man giggled, it was disgusting and horrible to your ears. “You thought wrong sweetheart! Let’s get you all nice and sleepy, now, would you?”

And that was the last thing you remembered ever since you got kidnapped and was put into a slave auction a few weeks later.

You were in a cage, a metal choker with chains to prevent you from escaping. If anyone were to see you in this state, they would have never thought that you’re a noble. Well, was once a noble, that is. Your parents are surely dead, the twins were kidnapped and you? You’re in a slave auction ready to be bought by people in this… cult. You don’t know how to explain where you are. But it was definitely a cult. A cult obsessed with your family, that is.

You were just in this cage, all alone. You tried remembering what happened the first time you got here.

—--------------

DAY ONE

You groan as you try to sit up from the cold wet floor. Your head started pounding; ‘Just what happened?’ You tried to open one of your eyes, despite the aching of your head.

You hissed and closed your eyes again. You don’t know where you are but it was too bright. As you tried to open your eyes slowly, you heard a voice.

“Now ladies and gentlemen! Let me introduce you to this special specimen!” You heard some woah’s and just over all sounds of fascination. You heard the voice call out again. “Why is this specimen so special? Because this is the only and eldest daughter of the Phantomhives!” And at that, you heard shoutings.

“5 thousand!”

“Enough! I’ll bid 100 thousand!”

“I bid 500 thousand!”

‘W-what..? What are they..’ You knew what they were doing. But perhaps you were questioning what exactly they were doing was some type of coping mechanism. You fully opened your eyes and that was the moment where you couldn’t believe your eyes.

You were in some kind of cage and you had your wrists and ankles bound with shackles, both connected so it made it more difficult to escape. You couldn’t exactly see what’s ahead because of the cage but you could definitely see the person announcing you as if you were some kind of item to be purchased. He wore a mask for a masquerade party and had a tuxedo. What really sets him apart from all the other guests was his oddly bright red ribbon.

He was dressed like it was a celebration. If you saw him alone, you might’ve thought it was. But it wasn’t. Because you were obviously in a…

“...A slave auction?” You questioned yourself. Even when you couldn’t hear yourself because of the loud shouts (Bidding) of the people that were wearing cloaks. And the masks. They were wearing masks. And that’s when it fully hits you.

‘I’m the one they’re bidding for… They’re…. Buying me..’ You found yourself shaking at the thought.It was so unbelievable. Really. You couldn’t fully move because of the shackles that were bound to you. But either way, there was no escape. Too many eyes are on you. You wouldn’t really mind that most of the time. As you were the Queen’s favorite and the eldest daughter of the Phantomhives so of course eyes were on you.

“One million!”

“One million and 500 thousand!”

‘They really are… Do they want me that much..?’ You knew your value. Time after time again, your father always tells you about your position in high society. It was your duty to always remember your worth. And even when your father didn’t remind you, everyone reminded you. Of who you are as a whole.

“5 million! Sold!”

Your heart sank. Were you really worth that much?

You heard some people grumbling in frustration. About why they didn’t bid higher or why they didn’t bought more or…

Before you could think, you saw your now master. And that’s when realization fell on you. You aren’t the Queen’s goddaughter or the eldest Phantomhive.

You’re now a slave and the man in front of you is now your… “You can call me Master, my belladonna.”

#black butler #drabbles #kuroshitsuji #yandere black butler #yandere #platonic #ciel phantomhive #ciel black butler #yana toboso #black butler angst

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kisakis-boyfriend · 1 year

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Good boys get rewarded

Pairings: Sebastian x reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom!reader, sub!Sebastian, teasing, shibari

Genre/Format: Smut; Drabble

Author's Note: Kicking off this blog with something I wrote last year. Plz be nice I haven't written anything in 2 years

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

Watching Sebastian come undone as you tease him. He's sat in your lap, blindfolded, gagged, nothing except pretty red rope adorning his pale skin. The rope digs into his wrists, restricting his movement

You run your fingertips along his arms and place a sweet kiss on his exposed shoulder. He wants to relax, but it's nearly impossible since he can feel your growing bulge underneath him. He wants to move — to feel you press up against his ass — but he holds still like a good boy

Your hands find his hips and his back arches slightly. “So pretty, and so well-behaved. Where should I touch you first?” you whispered. Sebastian moaned around the gag, unable to answer your question

You slid your hand down to his thigh and squeezed. “Here?” your other hand moved to his chest. “Here?” your hot breath hit the shell of his ear. “Or maybe...right here?”

“Mmph!” Sebastian jolted slightly as your hand moved from his thigh to his cock. He suppressed the urge to buck into your hand immediately. If he behaves, he'll get what he wants so badly

#my writing #kuroshitsuji smut #black butler smut #sebastian smut #sebastian michaelis smut #sebastian michaelis #drabble #dom reader #sub sebastian #sebastian x reader #male reader #kuroshitsuji

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dadbastiandisaster · 1 year

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The servants know Sebastian isn’t human.

They have seen him return with bullet holes on his clothes and found no wound beneath, caught the way his eyes glow like a cat’s when they bump into him in a dim hallway, wondered at how expertly he can move when it’s pitch black outside. He could run fast as the wind, take entire rooms of gunmen out with nothing but silver-wear, and do things that should have taken him days in just a few hours. He never ate, he never drunk, he never even seemed to sleep, he just kept on ticking night and day, seemingly running off nothing. If you dropped a pin at the other side of the manor he would almost certainly hear it.

But he was also very particular about where things went in the kitchen; they had seen him cry over a cat on not one, not two but three occasions, and he was absolutely insistent that he wasn’t long-sighted and that the glasses were purely decorative even thought it had been proven multiple times that he couldn’t read something unless it was at least two feet off his face.

They all had secrets, and if he wanted to tell them he could do it in his own time, no good in trying to pry it out of him. For then, he made incredibly good food and frankly his most offensive aspect was his inability to give clear instructions.

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #sebastian michaelis #drabble #idk just kind of obsessed with the idea that the servants all know he isn’t human #species wise #and are all just humouring him #bc theyre all just so used to him being weird and creepy #that at this point they are completely unfazed by it #sebastian thinks he has them all completely fooledd tho #he thinks he is doing such a good job of being a human #a+ in being human #none of them have the heart to tell him #think of how disappointed he’d be #but on the other hand he is very human and sometimes very dumb #and they love him for it #skjdjsidjfkffhjhkfdks #original post

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blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk · 11 months

Note

Sleepy kisses with Sebastian and the p4 please!

Kisses 45. sleepy kisses

since this one has more than three characters I did short and sweet! <3

As it happens, sleepy kisses are EDGAR’s preference.

He’ll move if you ask, but he’s more content to simply lie there and let you do whatever you want.

He responds excellently, of course. Lying on top of him, his arm comfortably encircling your waist, as soon as you press your lips to his, he’s loath to part.

There he stays. For as long as he can. He drifts in and out, too tired to stay alert.

Every time he wakes up, you’re treated to languid, stretched-thin kisses that last minutes rather than seconds.

Love you more, he whispers inside them.

Mostly GREGORY likes to be left alone in the morning. Exhausted as he is, he wants to sleep in.

You make it very difficult. Pressing in against him, nudging your lips against his, a lazy arm thrown over his hip.

It’s romantic, isn’t it? To be gently kissed awake.

It makes him feel like some kind of fairytale prince, roused by true love’s kiss. Maybe that’s silly. He doesn’t really care.

He should write a poem about this later. For now he just returns your kisses… all the while mumbling about how incorrigible you are for not letting him sleep.

God, shouldn’t you be asleep now…? HERMAN is tired himself, ready to fall into the embrace of unconsciousness.

Here you are, though, peppering his face with soft kisses as the two of you lie in bed. His eyes are trying to flutter shut, but every touch of your lips makes them open again.

When you catch the edge of his lips, he stops you to return the gesture.

Perhaps this is the best way to ease oneself into sleep.

He holds you, and he kisses you again, and before he knows it, the world has gone to a quiet dark.

LAWRENCE doesn’t know for certain whether it’s too late or too early.

All he knows is that your affectionate touch has woken him up several hours after he remembers going to bed.

He’s not complaining. Even with his vision blurred from the absence of his glasses, he kisses you back. Why you’re kissing him in the middle of the night doesn’t matter. It just matters that you are.

His eyes slip closed. He doesn’t need his sight at the moment anyway.

And he’s more than happy to fall back asleep like this, with you in his arms, sharing a kiss.

The only way SEBASTIAN sleeps during the night is next to you.

Abysmal creature that he is, he doesn’t require sleep. But your presence slows his breathing, stills his heart, quiets his mind.

Even the way you kiss him coaxes him into the arms of darkness. Like a broad stroke of paint on canvas, your mouth lingers on his. It’s with a chuckle that he has to pull away, delicately reminding you that you need air.

It doesn’t seem to bother you.

You simply take a breath, and come back for another kiss.

How lucky he is to have you.

#Black Butler #Kuroshitsuji #Edgar #Gregory #Herman #Lawrence #Sebastian #romantic #reader insert #drabble #fluff #domestic #UGHHHH I'M SO FUCKING SOFT P L E A S E #one hell of a queue

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bapydemonprincess · 3 months

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Picrew used: https://picrew.me/ja/image_maker/2279033

"I do not understand. Why are we out here, and just lying here, again?"

"Shh, little Sebas. Just stop questioning things and settle down. Just relax. Close your eyes and listen to the wind going through the trees. Through the grass..."

"But.. but why? Whatever could doing this accomplish?"

"You will see once you do it, silly demon."

...

....

"....Well?"

" *whispers* This... this is..."

"Yessss..?"

".....The most peace I've felt in centuries...."

"Hee I know. I know it is. ❤️ This is just what you needed my sweet anxious little raven. ❤️"

"*blushing profusely* G-Grelle..."

"Mhmmm?"

".....Th-thank you for.. this... I suppose.."

"You're very welcome mon cher. ❤️"

#kuroshitsuji #sebastian michaelis #grelle sutcliff #sebagrell #sebagrelle #oops accidentally wrote an emotional drabble #grhdjykgyklui

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officialundertakersmoocher · 1 month

Note

Headcannons for Grell having an SO who does acting either as a hobby or career?

GN pronouns for reader please

i love this because i've been doing theatre for years!

Grell would love your involvement in the theatre so much, it's very much her vibe

she would often surprise you at your shows or even surprise you by hacking her way INTO the shows

and god help anyone who dare become your love interest for a role

oh no! they have suddenly disappeared and grell has replaced them! what a shame.

please indulge me by imagining that you are playing one of the leads in romeo and juliet and you are overjoyed to have gotten the role!

Grell is so happy for you...!

.....until two seconds later when she realizes that your love interest just so happens to be some famous, handsome broad from the town

He had no chance.

the next thing you knew, that Grell in all her glory shows up to your next practice and blows everyone away with her talent

(and maybe a gruesome story in the paper)

who could complain?

she will also somehow always seem to land herself the best spot in the house, screaming your name and showering you with flowers at the end of the show

you should also be prepared to find yourself embarrassed if you ever happen to show up to her workplace because she has a tendency to brag about her oh so famous s/o!

you can expect some jokes to be passed around about how much she brags about you

after practice gossip sessions are a must. grell knows all of the drama involving your coworkers your co-workers and you know all of the office gossip

and being the flamboyant little lady she is, she will have no issue putting in her opinion about the directors choice of dance or costume

she will also make herself your personal caretaker and make sure you're lavished with clothing and food during your practices

she will cry at every single one of your shows because she is just so proud of you ��❤️

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deevotee · 10 months

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They have fallen into this bed together enough times that Finny doesn't need the light to know Ciel's body anymore. He's careful, of course he is, but as soon as he's on top of the younger boy he has his lips and his hands in the spots that will make Ciel moan without being able to hold back. Maybe he's a little too quick, a little too eager, but the sound is too beautiful to not indulge them both.

A hand in Finnian's hair and one curling around his neck, fingers splayed over his label and making him shudder. "More," he hears whispered in his ear. He gives without hesitation, like he always does and always will.

When he's laid between Ciel's legs, looking up at him from between his thighs, he cannot help but think of all the things he would give up to stay here forever. Like the sunlight.

If he could knock the sun out of the sky so they would not have to go back to being servant and master in the morning, Finny would do it without remorse, without care for the flowers in the garden.

But the night will fade away eventually, so he pulls Ciel's legs tighter around him and makes the most of the time they have.

#idk how to format drabbles but heres this #i was listening to de selby and couldnt get this out my head so #i have too many wip to make this longer tho lmao #cielinny #ciel phantomhive #finnian #cielfinny #black butler #kuroshitsuji #drabbles #devo writes #my fics

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grelleswife · 10 months

Note

50 with Bard and Lau Breaking the Rules >:) i loved their dynamic sm platonic or not!

(From this prompt list)

3 rules of London’s underworld and how Lau broke them.

1. Trust no one—

But letting master cook into his bed is a matter of indulgence, not trust; base instinct prompts his body’s response to those often clumsy yet always tender caresses, and any sincerity to the whispered conversations that ensue once they’ve had their fill of each other is a meaningless lapse in Lau’s judgement.

2. Don’t drop your guard—

He groggily rests against Bard’s shoulder the morning after as they sit side-by-side to enjoy a quiet breakfast, tea for Lau, black coffee for master cook, because the chef visits his quarters frequently enough to warrant Lau keeping some at the ready.

3. Never, if you value your life, form attachments—

They share a cigarette before Bardroy leaves; under the pungent tang of ash, Lau detects the flavor of whim ripening into habit, and habit crystallizing into routine.

The smoke fill his lungs regardless, and, when the chef offers him an infectious grin, what can Lau do but smile back?

Holding Bard’s hand, he commits the gravest trespass of all—he dreams of routine culminating in a future, a lifetime of mornings perfumed by coffee and cigarettes.

#kuro asks #kuroshitsuji #bardlau #lau #bardroy #bard #my fic #my writing #drabble prompts #suggestive #a little nervous about how this one turned out #but i hope the bardlau nation accepts my humble offering! 🙏💛🖤

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irides-solstice · 2 months

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ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ: ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴅᴅ ᴘɪᴄᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ꜰɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ.

★彡[ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇ ɪꜱ ɪɴꜱᴘɪʀᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴍʏ ɪɴᴄʀᴇᴀꜱɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇꜱᴛ ɪɴ ʙᴀᴋɪɴɢ, ᴍᴀɪɴʟʏ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ ᴘʀᴇᴘᴀʀᴇ ʙᴀᴋᴇʀʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅꜱ. ɪ ɢᴏᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪᴅᴇᴀ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ 내복곰 ɴᴇʙᴏᴋɢᴏᴍ'ꜱ ʙᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴠʟᴏɢꜱ]彡★

✧･ﾟ☆｡˚🍮⋆ ˚ ☆

You watch silently as the quiet whisking of cream echoes in the silent kitchen. It was close to 3am, yet both you and the Trancy butler were wide awake. One would assume you two were up to some... um inappropriate behaviour. It was quite late after all. But contrary to popular belief, Claude was not always up to nefarious actions. Sometimes, it's the simple day to day activities that would end up gaining his interest. Like crocheting in the garden with a cup of tea long after the master of the manor had gone to bed. Or other times, tending to the garden, maybe even a game of chess against himself...

The clinking of bottles provided the perfect ambience as he mixes various different ingredients in an attempt to rid out the taste of lemon. He's a bit of a perfectionist. So, when he accidentally added a tad bit too much, while chatting with you, he became hell bent on fixing it. Yes, it is almost unnoticeable, the lemony touch, but he refuses to let it go. So, you sit there all quiet and pretty in your knee length nightgown, your legs swinging back and forth as you try not to laugh at his apron. His eyebrows furrowed as he focused, with an intimidating glare in his eyes. Yet you could hardly feel yourself scared when looking at him due to his attire. A small white bandana holding his hair back from his face, makes him look….funny. Not that you’d ever admit it. You swallow a chuckle at his attire. Not wanting to distract him anymore. Pfft, you weren't sure how much more teasing he'd tolerate from you.

For all his indulgence in meaningless human activities, he never once thought he would be sharing these moments with another. To demons, said activities are useless after all. No need for said food, and even if needed, there was no need to craft it himself. Yet he does. Perhaps he even seeks it for his own enjoyment. That would explain his insistence on perfecting his baking techniques... Yes, this late at night, because when special interests arise who's to stop him? Who with the authority to hold him back anyways. But perhaps he yearns for someone to share it with.... That would explain his lack of irritation towards you when he accidentally added a bit too much of an ingredient. Getting carried away when listening to you was quickly becoming one of his worst traits.

However, as you struggle to stifle a yawn as your teary eyes forbid you from staying awake any longer. Vision becoming blurry but just as you were about to cave to your slumber. His voice rings out. "That seems about right. Here, try it." Before your eyes have even opened properly, he's shoving his index and middle finger inside your mouth. The tips of his gloved fingers covered in a small sample of the cream he just prepared. You gag and immediately hold his wrist in weak protest. But his glare quickly stops any intention to push him away. Eyebrows raised as if daring you to stop him. He knows you won't though. "Go on, tell me what you think." Swirling your tongue around to taste the whipping cream about to be used, you watch a small grin creep onto his face. Your eyes roll back to your head with a quiet groan. It actually tasted quite nice. If he could be arsed to, guests would flock to the Trancy manor to taste his pastries.... As you mull over the thought of advertising his cooking to your friends and family, his eyes begin to dart to the newly whipped cream, and then back at you. Low lidded eyes suddenly glowing as he watches you. Perhaps he won't reserve it for the croissant, his mind quickly finding a new better use for his newly prepared assortment. "So? Don't tell me you've forgotten the task at hand already... Well, that's a shame I thought I taught you better."

✧･ﾟ☆｡˚🍮⋆ ˚ ☆

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lokabrenna-writes · 2 years

Note

I've got a Dadbastian request! Idk if this will make sense but I had a scenario in mind where another miscellaneous demon breaks in and almost/does attack O!Ciel for his soul and his dad comes in and saves him.

Ooooh I like this one! Also the fact that Sebastian always has Ciel close his eyes when he’s in his true form because he doesn’t want Ciel to see him “so improper/unsightly” (which I translate to “my true form will probably frighten you and I can’t have you any more traumatized than you already are”), but another demon couldn’t care less. Time to traumatize my favorite character again (I’m so sorry Ciel, I promise this isn’t personal)

TW: restricted breathing/demon attack, panic attack, ptsd attack, description of Ciel’s month long capture

~~~

One of the most frightening factors of this whole ordeal, was how quickly it happened. Sebastian had just tucked him in and left him to sleep. Ciel couldn’t be sure if he had actually fallen asleep or was just about to when he felt something covering his nose and mouth.

The lack of air caused his eyes to quickly open as he felt tightness in his chest. The object restricting his breathing was a large, pitch black hand that had sharp nails that were digging into the side of Ciel’s face. The room was consumed by black smoke with blood red eyes visible all around him. He tried to scream, to call for his butler like he had countless times before, but all that could be heard were ineligible squeaks.

“Quiet.” A voice snapped, and that was the last thing Ciel heard before slipping into darkness.

~~~

There were voices whispering all around them. There were to many speaking at once for Ciel to decipher what they were saying, but the voices kept getting louder and louder. It was overwhelming. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. As the blurriness he had seen began to clear up, he felt his heart stop.

The metal of the cage was cold and rough. His clothes were dirty and worn; they did nothing to keep him from the cold that was heavy in the room. The lights were blinding and the whispering was still growing louder.

“Se-!” Ciel tried once more to call for his butler, but his voice would not speak his butler’s name.

‘Sebastian, help me! Get me out of here! This is an order, do you hear me? An order, an order, an order!’ Ciel tried to scream, but the best he could do was have the command play in his head.

Finally, the whispers began to quiet down; however, booming footsteps began to make themselves known. They belonged to a tall man whose face was hidden by the hood of his robe. The man began to speak, but Ciel could not determine what he was saying over the sound of his heart beating. He tried so hard to move, to scream, but his body would not respond to his commands. He just wanted-.

"Young Master? Can you hear me?" Sebastian's voice cut through the noise. Ciel wasn't sure if his mind was playing a trick or not, but he would grasp on to any glimmer of hope.

'Sebastian!' Ciel tried once more to speak, but the best he could do was let out another squeak followed by coughing.

"My apologies, I'm afraid this will be most unpleasant." Sebastian's voice said. Ciel didn't see how anything could be worse than his current situation.

Ciel felt something he could not see wrap around him and pull him forward. Yet, his body was not moved, his soul was. He felt like he had been ripped out of his body. Lights flashed, the world was moving past him at the speed of light, noises rotated in volume, and the world around him was freezing cold.

Suddenly, the world around him came to a crashing halt and his screams finally left his mouth. He could feel an arm holding him to a familiar chest as the other hand strokes through his hair.

"Shhh, it's alright. You're alright."

Sebastian words did little to sooth him. His tears flowed and screams rang through the manor, causing the other servants to rush to his room.

“Bloody hell! What happened in here?!” Bard yelled in shock.

The curtains had been ripped from the wall, the window was shattered, books and various other items were thrown about the floor, and the bedding was ripped to shreds. In other words, Ciel’s bedroom had been destroyed.

“I’m afraid the Young Master had a late night visitor. As you can see, said visitor was less than pleasant.” Sebastian explained before turning back to Ciel.

“Let’s get you somewhere acceptable.” Sebastian said, cradling Ciel to his chest has he moved to leave the room. Ciel had managed to stop screaming, but was still hyperventilating and would not remove his face from where it was buried in the crook of Sebastian’s neck. However, it was probably best that he didn’t see the full extent of his damaged room.

“If the three of you could begin cleaning this up, it would be a big help.” Sebastian said as he shut the door behind him.

Sebastian made his way to the sitting room in a calming silence (which was soon broken by Bard’s yell of, “Who the hell has this many eyes?!”).

Once Sebastian reached the sitting room, he attempted to place Ciel in his chair. Ciel made his displeasure of the attempt clear by tightening his hold on Sebastian and shaking his head.

“Alright, alright. I suppose we’ll just stay like this for the time being.” Sebastian murmured. Silence fell between the two again.

While Ciel was too shaken to feel anything other than fear, Sebastian felt awkward. In his defense, demons aren’t exactly known for comforting children. He didn’t have any experience when it came to children outside of his current contract. The best he could think to do was to attempt to mimic what the parents in the stories he often read to Ciel would do. He did make a note to mimic the good parents instead of the evil ones.

“There, there. It’s over now.” Sebastian said while using a hand to cradle the back of Ciel’s head.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

After a moment, Ciel finally removed his head from where it was buried in Sebastian’s neck and looked up at him. He had calmed down, but a few stray tears still fell.

“Is that what it’s going to be like?"

"What do you mean, my lord?" Sebastian asked, raising an eyebrow.

"When you take my soul... Is that what's going to happen?"

"Oh, no. Not at all. I can't lie, so I won't say that you will be exempt from any and all pain; however, it will be nothing like that." Sebastian hesitated for a moment before adding, "I promise."

Ciel briefly studies Sebastian before deciding to believe him.

"Okay." Ciel finally said as he again rested his head on Sebastian's shoulder.

No more words were spoken between them. They stayed like that for about an hour before Tanaka knocked on the door to inform them that the mess had been dealt with. Sebastian carried Ciel back to his room and attempted to place him back into his bed, but Ciel had other plans. He shook his head and tightened his grip on Sebastian again. The message was clear, "I don't want to be in here."

Sebastian thought for a moment before deciding to take Ciel to one of the guest bedrooms. Despite how shaken Ciel may be, he's still a human and needs to at least get 8 hours of sleep. The last thing Sebastian wanted to deal with was a sleep deprived master.

Luckily for Sebastian, Ciel seemed to be content in the guest bedroom and was willing to try to sleep. The only condition was that Sebastian had to stay and watch over him for the rest of the night.

Luckily for Ciel, Sebastian had already planned to watch over him.

~~~

Sorry this took awhile to finish, I had a few different ideas and it took a bit to choose one 😅

I hope you liked the story, Anon! And for anyone else reading who may have enjoyed, please send me any requests if you have them (I get bored in class a lot 😂) 💜💜💜

#dadbastian #black butler #sebastian and ciel #kuroshitsuji #sebastian michaelis #ciel phantomhive #short fic #drabble #black butler ciel #black butler sebastian #anon ask #anon request

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