dadbastianweek2023

[dadbastianweek2023]

Dadbastian Week: Setting Sun

"Poetry you're a week late" I know, I had midterms this week and i was cooked alive. But I'm better now and I have this thing to make up for the fact that I skipped an entire day. My official (a week overdue) sendoff to Dadbastain Week 2023!

A huge thank you to @dadbastianweek2023 for organizing such a cool event and for all the participants who might be some of the most talented creators I've ever seen! Also thank you to everyone who helped my indecisive ass pick a name for the dog.

My Baby, My Baby

Escape had been impossible. 

Sebastian did not often make a habit of avoiding his young master, but he had to do what had to be done to maintain some semblance of peace. Then again, one of his (former) favorite things had always been his stubborn determination.

And all it took was cornering him in the foyer and ordering him to sit down to render him completely helpless. Now it was just him, Ciel, and the 14 page hand-written essay entitled “why we should get a dog”.

The essay was, as the title implied, an itemized list of every reason he could think for why the manor needed a dog.

Number one: A dog would offer an added layer of protection.

Number four: Dogs were very good for hunting.

Number fifteen: Ciel could not leave his dirty dishes in his study anymore since chocolate would make the dog sick.

Number twenty-eight: A dog would gladly eat anything that fell on the floor.

Number fifty-one: Ciel would allegedly never ever ever ask Sebastian for his assistance on a major purchase ever again.

Sebastian had scoffed at that one, realizing how serious Ciel must be to acknowledge his own lack of control over his pocket money so openly. Usually Sebastian’s status as the keeper of Ciel’s check book was something that the two of them did not discuss. After all, his young master was not a fan of acknowledging his own age and there was a little bit more dignity in pretending that Sebastian was put in charge of the Phantomhive finances by choice.

Regardless of pride, Ciel was still a child. And as a child, he needed Sebastian to sign off any and all money.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate your… dedication.” Sebastian had to cut Ciel off once they reached the part that the young earl had written entirely in broken German as a way to prove that his dedication to his studies would remain unchanged. “But could you not just order me to sign off on this?”

The idea of having a dog in the house made him want to gag, but Ciel’s German was simply where he had to draw the line. 

Ciel looked up from his paper, eyeing Sebastian as if he had said something unequivocally stupid. “Of course not, you would just buy the dog and then get rid of it immediately afterwards. Or you would make sure the dog is of poor health so that it wouldn’t last long anyways.” His gaze was steely and serious, a stark juxtaposition to the very childish conversation at hand. “I need you completely and fully on board.”

Sebastian sighed, cursing his consistency and communication skills for making his movements so predictable. “Then may we continue this discussion as I do the housework? I fear I can’t stay seated through- how many more are there?”

“Ninety-four.” Ciel didn’t even look back down at his paper. Which was somewhat terrifying.

“... Walk and talk.” He stood up from the chair(he did not understand why humans felt the need to sit for so long).

Ciel perked up (“Like a dog” is how Sebastian’s brain finished that sentence, which made him frown) and followed behind him as he carried on with his day.

Number sixty-six: Ciel would never complain again.

Laughable.

Number seventy-five: Ciel would never bother Sebastian again.

Again, hilarious.

Number eighty-three: A portion written and performed entirely in broken latin to further show his commitment, which was somehow worse than the German portion had been.

That one was… long.

Number ninety: Please.

Ok, now this was getting to Sebastian. 

Number ninety-

“Okay, stop!” Sebastian couldn’t take it. He couldn’t handle the… pleading and the voice and the any of it. Especially not now as he juggled pots and pans in the kitchen, trying to make sense of the mess Mey Rin had left behind in the wake of “preparing lunch” while Ciel ate said lunch in the kitchen with him, speaking even louder so that he might be heard over the sound of metal clinking together.

Ciel looked up, hopeful. As if he had been planning to induce a headache the entire time. “So you are in agreement?”

Sebastian bit his lip. This was psychological warfare and he was losing, goddamnit. His eyes settled on the box of eggs, still left out on the counter despite the fact that lunch had not needed eggs for its preparation at all. He smiled coyly before picking one up and handing it to the young master.

Ciel took it, confused. “What’s this for?”

“That,” Sebastian said pointedly. “Is to show me you understand the responsibility of looking after something too stupid to look after itself.”

It was meant to be a jab at him, but Ciel didn’t react. Instead, he held the egg gentler, staring at it as if it was made of gold. “How long do I have?”

“Until sundown.” Sebastian turned his attention back to the chores, relishing in how much quieter the kitchen had gotten.

“And if I give this egg back to you unharmed, you will approve the purchase of a dog without complaint?” He raised an eyebrow, like he was trying to unpack the ways in which this could blow up in his face.

“Mhm.” Sebastian was only half listening as he put the rest of the eggs away and began scrubbing the dishes.

Ciel stared at the egg suspiciously now. “And this isn’t a trick? I have your word that you-”

“Would you like me to change my mind?” Sebastian interrupted, the seriousness in his voice enough to make the boy shake his head and run off to provide a life for his practice pet. Sebastian sighed, eyeing a clock on the wall. He had bought himself at least six hours, plenty of time for Ciel to either break the egg or lose interest in the activity entirely.

While the idea of either cleaning the remnants of a broken egg or tracking down a rotten one weeks later did not appeal to him in the slightest, anything was better than having to deal with a dog.

In short, he had won.

---

He had expected Ciel to get bored after an hour or so. Either that or break the egg and give up on the whole ordeal. So naturally when the bell in the basement tripped, alerting Sebastian that he was needed in the study, he had thought peace was on the horizon.

What he did not expect was to see the young master seated at his desk, the egg sitting on a plush velveteen pillow. 

The egg had its own space on the desk, not too close to the edge and not too far from Ciel in case of an emergency. Ciel himself stared Sebastian down, his list of what appeared to be dog names completely abandoned the moment the door opened.

“Do you need something, my lord?” Sebastian asked after an abnormally long bout of silence.

“No.” He said shortly, still staring at Sebastian intently.

The demon blinked. “... You rang?”

“I did not ring.” Ciel said, still staring. “You must be hearing things.”

“... I see.” Sebastian wondered if behavior like this would warrant regular appointments with a shrink. His boy was staring at him and had an egg on a pillow. Even he found this disturbing and pondered on exactly what kind of monster he had created.

Ciel cleared his throat as the silence persisted. “The egg is well.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed as he understood what this was; An official declaration of war. “I see that.”

Ciel continued to stare. “It has a pillow.”

“I am aware.” Sebastian’s cold glare turned to the egg as he pondered ways to turn the tides in his favor. Clearly he had underestimated Ciel’s resolve. Maybe during tea, he could-

“I order you not to touch the egg in any capacity.” He had to be able to read minds. He had to somehow be in Sebastian’s head.

That little bastard.

Sebastian pursed his lips together in a tight, displeased line. “As you wish, my lord.”

Ciel nodded, his gaze a perfect mirror image of the cruel glare Sebastian had become so well known for. “You are dismissed.”

---

It had been Sebastian’s idea for Bard to offer to take Ciel hunting. Partially incentivized by an advance on the cook’s Christmas bonus.

“I’ll take ’im out without the bribe,” Bard laughed, a cigarette tucked between his teeth. “Jus’ not sure why you don’t want to come along.”

Because that was part of the appeal. A hunting trip with Bard (the significantly more fun chaperone) where Ciel was allowed to use the good guns that they kept in the cellar (which he was normally not allowed access to). A level of reckless, irresponsible fun that no teenage boy could refuse.

Evident by the way that he nearly jumped out of his seat, banding his knee against his desk (it did not knock the egg from its perch, sadly) before regaining his composure.

“I suppose, if it will pass the time.” He said passively, trying to rub his injured knee without anyone noticing.

It wasn’t until he looked back down at his desk that the boy seemed to realize why the offer had been made in the first place; The egg could not be left unattended.

He looked up at Sebastian in malice, who only smiled sweetly back. His master was not stupid. Surely he would see this hunting trip as a once in a lifetime offer and wisely abandon this silly egg game for more entertaining pursuits. Triumph at last.

All three men in the room stood in a triangle, each staring at the egg as it sat innocently on its pillow; Ciel in contemplation, Sebastian in cruel victory, and Bard in… confusion. Which made sense, seeing as no one had let him in on the egg deal.

A light bulb may as well have popped up above Ciel’s head as he grabbed the egg off of its pillow. “I shall return shortly.”

The boy bolted out of the room, leaving Sebastian standing there with a displeased glare.

“... Was that an egg?” Bard asked, but received no response from Sebastian as the demon butler glared at the door, waiting for his master’s return. “Why does he have an egg?”

Ciel returned only a few minutes later, a small bag used for carrying dice tied onto one of his belt loops with a secureness that only could have been achieved by Finny. So the boys were in cahoots… lovely.

“Ready when you are.” He announced with a triumphant grin.

Sebastian grumbled. Foiled once more.

---

“Dogs cannot sit at the table` At this point in the day, Sebastian was getting petty. But the hunting trip had not even broken the damned thing, and the only other option he could think of was having Mey Rin shoot the god forsaken thing off of its pillow (something she was disturbingly excited to try). So yes, he was taking some of those frustrations out on Ciel and the egg.

Ciel looked up from his dinner, which he had not yet gotten the chance to take a bite out of. “That wasn’t part of the deal!” He argued.

Sebastian shrugged. “It would prove your dedication.”

He was either going to put the egg on the ground and accidentally step on it, forget it, or finally give up. He had to. Sebastian had no other ideas for how to get rid of this thing (unless he took Mey Rin up on her offer, that is). His migraine worsened as he imagined the sound of barking joining in with the other annoyances of his day to day life.

He needed Ciel to either fuck up or give up.

Ciel glared, taking the egg (still on that stupid pillow) in his hand. Sebastian swore he heard angels singing as Ciel did so, assuming that his plan had worked. But then Ciel picked up his plate as well, and Sebastian watched in annoyance as he took both items over to the wall and sat down.

His stubbornness knew no bounds.

“I will not fetch anything from the table for you if you are going to behave this way.” Sebastian said, standing firmly by the table as Ciel settled himself comfortably on the floor.

Ciel placed the egg on the ground and his plate in his lap, taking a bite. “I don’t require anything anyways.”

Sebastian eyed the full glass of water still sitting on the table. “Hm.”

Ciel took a big, defiant bite of gravy-less chicken.

---

It was official.

This had possibly been the biggest mistake of his career.

The sun had just dipped down the horizon when he heard the distinct sounds of footsteps running down the stairs. Fitting for Ciel to catch him in the kitchen once again, like the boy was returning to the scene of the crime where he had brutally murdered Sebastian’s pride only hours before.

And in he came, like a bat out of hell, holding his intact egg up in triumph. He had won the war.

His face was bright as the sun, something that Sebastian found no pleasure in as he grappled with his fate.

“... I feel that this test needs another day.” He tried in vain.

Ciel shook his head. “You gave your word. No going back now.”

Sebastian groaned, hiding his face behind his hand as he sunk down into one of the kitchen chairs. He sighed, gesturing across the little table to the chair right across from him. He listened as Ciel shuffled over, taking a seat and setting the egg down on the table with a soft plunk. The kitchen table of negotiation.

“... I have conditions.” Sebastian said plainly, taking his face out of hiding now that he was sure he didn’t look on the verge of tears. 

Ciel nodded eagerly and receptively, a much more enthusiastic audience than he usually is. 

“The dog will not share the same name as me.” He said sternly, despite it being a ridiculous request.

“The name is already picked out, so there will be no trouble there.” Ciel said, leaning forward excitedly.

Sebastian sighed, still in disbelief that he was agreeing to this at all. “You said you wanted a hunting dog, so you will get a hunting dog. We will go to a proper breeder and collect one that is already housebroken. No puppies, am I understood?”

Ciel did not look disappointed in the slightest. He nodded just as eagerly as before. “Anything else?”

God this receptiveness was disturbing.

“It will not go on any furniture that you would accept guests.” Sebastian said sternly. “I will not have people leaving the manor covered in dog hair.”

“Understood.” Ciel agreed, watching him intently. Sebastian narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what else Ciel wanted.

“... Those are my only demands.”

But he still stared at him, almost like he was losing confidence. It took Sebastian a while to realize that he was waiting for the explicit confirmation, something to set this plan in stone. He sighed. “We will leave in the morning.”

That smile was back, just as bright as the sun.

---

They left first thing in the morning, with Ciel already up and laying out clothing on his own by the time Sebastian opened the door. So he was capable of such behavior. What a miracle.

Sebastian had taken some comfort when they arrived at the breeder’s, who trotted out his most well behaved dogs that he had deemed “fit for an earl” (Sebastian was happy to have an ally in this situation. God knows Bard hadn’t been any help).

But of course, the one that caught Ciel’s eye was a wild-tempered greyhound who nearly topped him over trying to lick his face.The boy had laughed, only half-way trying to push the dog off of him while the other scratched behind the beast’s ear encouragingly.

The breeder, who had initially apologized profusely for the dog’s behavior, laughed at the sight and said “I suppose the Earl is just a boy.”

A traitorous leech if Sebastian had ever met one-

So of course the wretched creature came home with them.

On top of being nearly uncontrollable, the cursed little thing was ugly as could be. Long in every sense of the word and fairly pathetic looking. The only silver lining that could be found in this was that the beast had the decency to ignore Sebastian entirely, lavishing all his ghastly affection on Ciel instead.

This affection did seem to delight Ciel though, who Sebastian had never seen smile as much as he did that day.

So maybe the dog wasn’t so bad.

“He cannot be on the bed!” Sebastian protested, attempting to wave the creature off of the comforter and pulling his hand away when the damned thing snapped its jaws at his sleeve as if Sebastian’s arm was the rope toy that Ciel had wasted his whole afternoon throwing across the garden.

Ciel’s head popped through the top of his nightdress and his attention went right back to the dog (as if it hadn’t been there all day). “I don’t take guests in my bedroom, so he can be on the bed.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, watching in disgust as the thing dragged its ham bone from dinner on the bed right next to it. Ciel climbed in, petting the dog behind his left ear and delighting in the way it threw its head back affectionately, trying to reach the boy’s face in order to lick it. “Good boy, Detective!”

“Call him by his proper name,” Sebastian scolded, lifting the boy up by the armpits and tossing him onto the sheets so he could pull the comforter up to his chin. The dog bounded up after him, letting out a bark that made Sebastian flinch back in disgust with his hands up. “He will never respond to it if you keep calling him ‘Detective’.”

The dog also didn’t deserve such a title. The lights were not all on upstairs.

“Alright then,” Ciel scratched the top of the damned creature’s head as he settled down on top of the comforter, as close to the boy as he could manage. “Good boy, Sherlock.”

Sherlock Holmes was the dog’s full, legal name. Which made Sebastian roll his eyes. “Don’t praise him for such behavior, he wished to take my hand as a souvenir.”

“He would never harm a fly,” Ciel cooed unbecomingly, snuggling closer to the animal. “Would you, boy?”

The dog groaned, both his and his little master’s energy seeming to have left their bodies like a lightning flash leaves a stormcloud. Sebastian moved about the room, picking up the clothing that had gotten scattered around the floor by Sherlock himself, who seemed to think everything but eating and sleeping was a game. In a sense, he supposed that meant he fit his master perfectly.

He could feel Ciel doze off, falling into a deep sleep at an alarming speed. His soft snores filled the room, making Sebastain smile fondly.

“You pulled the wool over my eyes once again, Young Lord.” He whispered, depositing the clothes into a small hamper for washing while the rest of the house slept. “Equal parts clever and cruel.”

Even he couldn’t shake the pride, watching the boy smile in his sleep after his victory. In a way, cruelty was their way of being kind. Not the excessive kind, but the kind that forced their days into a chess game of sorts. And when Ciel was able to pull the rug from underneath Sebastian, it made him feel… significant.

Which was a ridiculous thought to have. He was already plenty significant.

But seeing himself reflected back, growing sharper and harsher, and somehow better than him by the day… It was almost a purpose on its own.

That pride melted away to annoyance when the boy turned in his sleep, his eyepatch still on. Honestly, it was like Sebastian had to do everything.

He set the laundry down, walking over to the bed and reaching his hand towards Ciel’s sleeping form.

That was when a set of sharp teeth snapped down on his hand, forcing him to jump back. He propped his hand away, blood undoubtedly dripping onto the carpet as Sherlock let go of him with a vicious snarl. Sebastian immediately removed his glove, attempting to use it to reduce the mess as he swore under his breath.

He looked back up at the dog, who stood over his boy protectively as he growled lowly at Sebastian. His teeth were bared, still showing evidence of the attack he had given as a warning. 

Sebastian went to scold the damned beast when his eyes fell on the contract seal, painted red and exposed now that the glove was removed. It made his voice drop into his stomach with a heavy kind of thud. He supposed in a way, he had been very wrong  about Sherlock. He was just smart enough to protect his little master.

And he knew a threat when he saw one.

“Good boy, Detective.” Sebastian said sadly as the dog laid across Ciel’s torso, not once taking his eyes off of Sebastian. “Good boy.”

#dadbastianweek2023 #dadbastiansettingsun #thank you so much for the entry even if it was a week late its always welcome #and GAH was this one worth the wait #so sweet.

[dadbastianweek2023]

There's a weeklong grace period where I'll subtly check the tag, in case anyone had any entries they didn't get the chance to finish. That being said THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! I saw so much talent, so much depth, so many fascinating aus, and so much heart poured into this dynamic. whether it be through neglect and misguide of a faltering fake human, or through the enigmatic mind of a traumatized child THANK YOU! There was enough hugging, crying, comforting, yelling, terrorizing, and other -ing to clog my fic recs and give me something to smile about on a rainy day. THANK YOU! Do yourself a bow!

[dadbastianweek2023]

Had a lot of fun during the Dadbastian week, everyone is sweet and talented. I'm glad I was able to write a little again and I'm grateful for kind words I received even when I'm not 100% secure on my writing all the time sooo, thanks

#it was so lovely and wonderful to have the treat of your writing severals day in a row

[dadbastianweek2023]

dadbastian week day 6 & 7:

NEEDED ADVICE/SETTING SUN

me when i finish my last piece for @dadbastianweek2023 half an hour before day 7 ends (i did not have time to do two pieces sooooooo you get one that's a bit longer eheh)

fun fact of the day: kuro II is the only anime in this series i've seen :] i read all the manga, but i just haven't been able to watch the anime ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#dadbastianneededadvice #dadbastiansettingsun #these are all so DAMN CUTE #your writing makes me want to hug a pillow and throttle it #thank you so much for making an entry for every single day #very good job and thank youu :))

[dadbastianweek2023]

NOVEMBER 4TH - SETTING SUN

(read this on AO3 here)

final day of dadbastian week! i come bearing gifts (soul crushing angst)

this one is… well the prompt is setting sun, what else was i supposed to write? a heartwarming conclusion? i'm an evil creature, what can i say.

in which the contract's last day comes. sebastian gets one thing he wanted from his young master, at the cost of everything else.

enjoy!

The initial plan for the day is to let the young master sleep as much as he would like to.

Unfortunately, he is up before dawn and screams himself hoarse at the mere sight of anyone in his room, so Sebastian stands by the door in the darkest hour, waiting for him to discern the present from the memories. It takes a long time, always, but he eventually opens the door.

“I don’t think I’ll go back to sleep. Should we get ready for the day?”

His voice is both brave and fragile, but his still glistening cheeks make the scales tip in favour of the latter. Sebastian carefully wipes the tears away, as he always does.

The day is… odd, as expected.

Sebastian offers to play any game, go anywhere, eat anything at all, and the child agrees without much enthusiasm, even if he seems to enjoy some of it, at the very least.

The oddest part is that he talks, and talks, and Sebastian cannot help but feel like he is the one being comforted. He most ardently wants to say that it is futile and unneeded, as he is not the one who dies today, and that loss surely overshadows any mixed feelings he may feel about it all. But every time he considers telling the boy he is fine, his voice refuses to cooperate and he feels the familiar constriction of his oath, like his own hand around his throat warning him not to lie.

He persists through the day with those feelings unspoken.

As Sebastian hesitates to tuck him in, his young master grows quiet, pensive. With his — quite understandable — propensity for sombre moods, it usually is no cause for concern. Nothing is usual about this day, and the silence weighs heavily on Sebastian’s mind. It is with the urge to lift that that he thoughtlessly speaks.

“Any concerns?”

It sounds like a pathetic attempt at addressing the thousand regrets of the day, laughably concealing them under the veil of doubt. As if any question, any answer, could rid the end itself of its finality. Oddly lenient, the boy does not point it out.

“Many. I am… afraid? Isn’t it odd to be afraid of something I wanted?” he asks, and he somehow looks exactly like the child Sebastian first met that day. The sight is disconcerting, to say the least. Even more so considering that there isn’t much fear in him, comparatively.

Sebastian has seen him afraid before, has terrified him himself many times, but he has never quite looked like this — it is hard to see any fear in him in the complete absence of fight-or-flight, hard to put an adequate name on this aimless and dulled terror, and the calm facade reigning over it all. Sebastian would once have found it fascinating. He is now appalled at the lack of fight left in his young master.

“I would love to say something nice and heartwarming. In another world, I think I would have told you I hope to be born again as your son this time.”

He sighs and leans back into the pillows, and the pallor of his skin makes him seen gone already.

“But we both know my soul is not going anywhere.”

Sebastian wants to tell him many things, but not a single word comes to mind. He only knows human emotions by name, and recognises them only from an observer’s standpoint, for a manipulator’s purpose. None of this knowledge helps him put words on the sinking weight in his limbs currently at war with his hunger — one tells him to stay, stay and watch over his boy, and the other whispers promises of devouring a soul worth his patience, his work, his attention. For reasons he doesn’t understand, Sebastian does not want to think about what he would do if he had an actual choice.

(He fears, deep down, that even if there were loopholes in the contract, he would have given in to his hunger.)

He has been waiting for this day — it was written into the contract, after all, even if he hadn’t expected to suffer from more than hunger pains in the final hour.

Is this loss, he wonders, or perhaps grief? Would those words ever fit the emotions of a being who is more of a force of nature than its own individual? They might, he thinks, as the thought of eternity without this master makes flesh collapse into an aching void where his heart might have been, if he had bothered to give his body more than the appearance of something arguably human.

Unaware of Sebastian’s turmoil, or perhaps unwilling to do much to acknowledge it, the boy looks up at him, tense and expectant.

“It is time, isn’t it?” he asks as airily as if he wanted tea and not death in his cup.

It is, in fact, time — as much as it will ever be. Sebastian is… unsure of how to proceed. Back in the earlier days of the contract, he planned to make it hurt — that was, after all, the best way of consuming a soul — but now… would he hesitate, if the boy cried? Screamed? Pleaded? It is yet another question he wants no answer to.

“Sleep,” he hears himself say, and he is surprised to hear the faintest tremble in his own voice, and to see it mirrored in his unstable hand brushing hair out of the boy’s face. “I will watch over you until the end.”

He looks… stunned — as if the tenderness behind the offer of a painless end and the gentleness in touch and treatment were inconceivable, grounds for stupefaction. Sebastian realises that the kindness he himself perceives as the dominating force in his spirit is still an odd, uncharacteristic behaviour in the child’s eyes. That even though his soul has known easy, freely given affection in his youngest years, it has also faced storms and tidal waves of pain too great not to submerge and taint the memory of every single past act of love, no matter how immense his daily joys once were. That Sebastian himself once was a devastating flood, regardless of his current efforts to be the sun his young master needs.

All at once, he is overwhelmed by the desire to bargain for another day, another month, another year, anything to right past wrongs and give his boy enough warmth for happiness to freely emerge once again. But the sun sets already.

In the quiet that follows, Sebastian tells himself it is the soul’s sorrow he feels, and not his own — as he is, of course, incapable of such emotional depth — even as sobs too loud to be the fruit of imagination echo through the Phantomhive manor. Not that anyone will ever know, either way.

#dadbastianweek2023 #dadbastiansettingsun #OKAY OTA THAT MADE ME CRRY #THAT WAS MEAN #I KNOW I WROTE THE PROMPT BUT THAT WAS MEAN #beautiful writing ough im going to be savoring all of this good food for so long afterwards

[dadbastianweek2023]

Protector - Black butler AMV (dadbastian week)

I made this for the last day of #dadbastianweek2023 

I did it really fast but the concept of dadbastian is too precious to not participate in a way !

Last day is setting sun so I choose an adequate shot for my amv :)

#dadbastiansettingsun! 

#dadbastianweek2023 #dadbastiansettingsun #THIS IS INCREDIBLE #and such jsut a genuinely well made amv #WONDERFUL job GREAT JOB thank you so much!!!! #and also a great song choice #its them!

[dadbastianweek2023]

us dadbastian believers: look, sebastian is a bit of a caretaker

the demon in question:

#FOR REAL #dadbastianweek #happy dadbastianweek ! #look thats a picture of kronos and HIS SON AND HIS SON AND HIS SON AND HIS SON #he may be eating him but they are still father and son uwu

[dadbastianweek2023]

Dadbastian Week Day 6/7: Needed Advice and Setting Sun

Happy final day of Dadbastian week, my fellow fans. This was a wild ride, and I had so much fun seeing all the creations everyone came up with to celebrate! It may be the end of the seven days, but you can certainly expect more Dadbastian content from me in the future regardless. Let's keep the party going 😎

This "drabble" was better intended for yesterday's prompt, but I sort of shoehorned in a sunset so that I could post this on the final day. I would have liked to craft a story for each day of Dadbastian week, but sometimes that's life! And at 5.2k, this one's length is basically worth two prompts anyway.

No major warnings needed, but perhaps a small note that this story takes place when Ciel is still only ten years old. He engages in some regressive behavior as a way of coping with his trauma, and Sebastian handles the situation very Sebastianly. So it feels weird to say enjoy but uh... enjoy!

How many souls had Sebastian devoured in the centuries before he met this one?

Two or three hundred, approximately. But how many of them had stood out as especially worthy? Perhaps one or two – and those experiences were not so remarkable. Merely different from the norm. Ask a human every meal they’d eaten over the course of their measly lifetime. Even they would laugh. Impossible! They could scarcely remember what they’d eaten last week. Perhaps a particularly delectable trifle or perfectly roasted guinea fowl would stand out. But would even a hundred meals? Of course not. Don’t be silly.

How old was Sebastian? Perhaps as old as the universe; perhaps as old as the wheel. He was amorphous. Time did not mark him with crow’s feet and gray hair. Time had no power over him at all, and Sebastian did not need to consider it. It was a concept built for mortals. And though Sebastian had a vague idea of how long he had been a greater demon, of the moment he had stopped lapping up other demons’ scraps and began forming contracts of his own, such knowledge didn’t intrigue him. The only span of time that had ever mattered was “soon.” When was his next meal? Soon. Always soon, because humans were easy to please and easy to trick, and Sebastian was well-suited for pleasure and trickery.

It had been over a month since Sebastian had thought the word “soon.”

Today marked the hundredth day of his contract with “Ciel” Phantomhive, a ten-year-old boy who was, without question, the youngest person Sebastian had ever played the shadow of. Ten years old: why, ten years was nothing to a demon. In the amount of time it had taken Ciel to merely exist, Sebastian had done nothing but sit patiently waiting for the right moment to strike, to bargain with just the right human. A hundred days ago, he and his future meal at last crossed paths.

This is the most curious and enticing soul I have found so far, Sebastian remembered thinking that day, and it will be mine in mere moments. For how could a frail, wounded, sniveling orphan possibly take longer to cultivate than a monarch, or a prodigy, or a megalomaniac?

Sebastian denounced them all. They were games, comparatively, to this real test of will he was engaged in now. For yesterday’s orphan was today’s earl, and the guidelines of this contract would not allow for a swift victory. Though Sebastian had never known hunger so intimately before this contract, now he was also getting to know patience – and hunger and patience would work together to transform this soul into a dining experience Sebastian had never known the likes of before.

And yet... often Sebastian found himself thinking, This is the soul clever enough to test my cunning? This is the one?

For the boy was still just that: a boy. And the boy’s childish habits were still so wildly out of control, it was a wonder he had ever been a noble’s son.

“You’ve been picking at your skin again,” Sebastian scolded at bathtime when he noticed the little pink marks freckling those skinny arms. “You mustn’t do that. The areas could become infected.”

“Young master. Are you listening to me?” Ciel’s gaze would often drift to the window in the middle of a lesson. “Repeat what I just said. …Yes, that’s what I thought. Pay attention.”

“Leave that alone,” Sebastian said when Ciel would play with the string of his eye patch.

“You must sit still,” Sebastian said at dinnertime and teatime and any time Ciel was in a chair.

“Rings stay on your fingers, unless you’re sealing an envelope.”

“Look me in the eye.”

“Stop tapping your foot.”

“Sit up straight.”

“No fidgeting.”

“Smaller bites.”

“Don’t yawn.”

“Don’t scratch.”

“And take that out of your mouth this instant.”

That last sentiment was by far the most awful one to consider, and, alas, the most persistent. In the privacy of his own home, Ciel chewed on things relentlessly: his fingers, his nails, his own hair, a pen he might be holding. His teeth, still a subtle mismatch of adult and milk teeth, longed to keep busy. When he wasn’t eating, they sought out other objects to masticate and weren’t picky about what that object happened to be.

“Are you a rodent?” Sebastian asked him one afternoon when he caught Ciel nibbling at his own sleeve.

Ciel blinked at him. “What?”

“Or a teething puppy?”

Ciel blushed angrily. “No.”

“Then I can think of no reason why you should be unable to keep your clothing out of your mouth,” Sebastian said distastefully.

Ciel glowered at him and stopped in the meantime. But the chewing was incessant. He always went back to it as soon as he thought Sebastian’s back was turned.

“I struggle to comprehend,” Sebastian confided to Tanaka one evening, “how the young master got away with such deplorable behaviors while he was growing up.”

Tanaka looked at Sebastian sadly from the servant’s table. The two were in the kitchen, Tanaka drinking green tea while Sebastian stood at the counter, polishing silver. “The young master did not have such persistent habits before you knew him… I believe this developed during that month he spent alone. That month we know so little about.” Tanaka pressed his fingers into the warm ceramic of the yunomi cup, staring into its depths. “There are three empty spaces in his heart now… and for a boy so young, it’s hard to know how to fill such space except with distraction. We must be gentle with him.”

But “gentle” took patience, and gentle took time, and there was no reason to spend it when a smart rap on the wrist would do just as well at a fraction of the speed.

Most of Ciel’s habits had been defeated with a rap on the wrist. The chewing was not so easily thwarted. What was worse, after a week of testing various objects in his mouth, Ciel seemed to have decided that the hems of his sleeves were his top choice. Sebastian’s irritation grew when he saw the state of Ciel’s shirt one evening before bed, the sleeves crimped and wrinkled from what seemed to be a whole day’s worth of suckling.

“This is flagrantly infantile,” he hissed lightly as he gripped his charge by the forearm. Ciel was looking hard at the floor and flushing with defiance. “What should anyone think of an earl with such deplorable attire? You’d do better without teeth than with sleeves like this.”

“It’s not like I do it in front of anyone!” Ciel argued with a heat that came from embarrassment.

Sebastian’s frown quirked. “It is pathetic to defend this behavior. You will stop, or there will be consequences.”

Ciel snorted, smirking now. “Consequences? What are you going to do? Hit my palms with a ruler till they bleed?” It was clear the boy wanted to recover some dignity. “You can’t stop me. I might have a bad habit, but I bet you don’t really know how to stop me from doing this.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Don’t I?”

“Well then, what are you going to do about it?” Ciel shot back.

The butler hesitated, then started unbuttoning the young master’s shirt up by its rounded collar. “Continue this charade, and perhaps I shall have to decide.”

“When we were younger and Edward would do something wrong, I remember Aunt Francis would take away his pocket money,” Ciel continued matter-of-factly as Sebastian slipped the nightgown over his master’s small head. “But you can’t take my money away from me. And you can’t force me to stay in my room until I repent, like my parents would.”

“No, perhaps not,” was Sebastian’s even answer.

“Well, good luck, then!” Ciel challenged, and Sebastian could swear that just before he extinguished the candle and turned to leave, the rotten brat was bringing his sleeve toward his mouth for a repeat performance.

It was clear Ciel thought he had won. Let him think that. It would only make the consequences of his actions all the more shocking.

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In England, the bird pepper was best known for its importance in making the highest quality cayenne. It was a thin, red capsicum that shone as bright as a warning. The human stomach knew no particulars: surely this coloration was nature’s way of advertising danger, but humans were the one species that delighted in spice, cultivated it, and celebrated the flavor of this irritating chemical. Sebastian was not sure if he found this act unnaturally stupid or minutely impressive. But it meant he would have easy access to the drought that would curb his master’s behavior.

Once delivered to the manor, the capsicums promptly had their piths removed and jarred in water to soak for a few days. The water took on a slightly orange quality, but was diluted with a bit more water until it was nearly clear. Finally, that water was painted on the sleeves of one of Ciel’s nightshirts using a basting brush and left hanging for another day until perfectly dry and unassuming.

Between the night Sebastian had decided on his plan and the evening he was able to execute it, Ciel’s habit had somewhat abated, but only somewhat. Sebastian’s warnings had grown sharper, and thus Ciel’s emotions towards the warnings had become more dramatic in response. He would grow absentminded, his eyes glossing over in the middle of a lesson, and then he’d automatically fall into his old pattern. Sebastian would rebuke, “Stop that,” whenever he caught the young master in the act, and Ciel would startle back to reality with a fleeting look of bewilderment. Then the shame and contempt would take over, and Ciel would shoot his butler such a scathing glare that Sebastian felt no sympathy whatsoever for what would soon come to pass.

“I must advise you, young master, not to go about biting your sleeves after I leave the room tonight,” Sebastian said at bedtime as the hands were threaded through the innocuous, soft pajama sleeves with perhaps only the slightest aroma of scarlet truth. “I will know if you have disobeyed; I have my ways. You must understand that it’s for your own good that I do whatever it takes to stop you.”

Ciel’s watchful eyes fell to the floor, and his shoulders slumped. For a moment, he looked just like the child that he was. “I’m trying, all right? It’s hard.”

“Ridiculous,” Sebastian huffed, planting his hands on his hips. “If your sleeve is in your mouth, take it out. This is all that you have to do. You would really have me believe such a thing is hard?”

“As if a damn demon would understand!” Ciel whined, though his face looked red again. “It’s not… Ugh, never mind! I’m trying, so you can stop treating me as if I’m not already!”

“If you really are trying, then I have faith that tonight will be different,” Sebastian said, with just a single thread of slyness stringing together his words as he pulled away the covers and draped them back over the curled-up troublemaker. “And who knows, you may just be rewarded if you manage to follow through.”

“... What kind of reward will I get?” Ciel asked.

Sebastian paused briefly at Ciel’s look of earnest curiosity. The ‘reward’ he’d meant was really ‘a lack of punishment.’ Would a reward actually be a worthy incentive when the boy was misbehaving? “We shall discuss it in the morning, but only if you manage to keep your sleeves away from your teeth all night. That is the first obstacle. Now then, will you be needing anything else before bed?”

Ciel stuffed his hands beneath his pillow. “No.”

“Very good. Then… I wish you luck, and goodnight.”

The light in the room was snuffed out. Sebastian left and went immediately to the kitchen to prepare the glass of milk. He had no faith the sleeves would remain untouched for very long. Mortals were driven by instinct, even to their own detriment. It was any wonder they managed to exist as a species. They could not go without their little vices. Even Ciel, who was too young and too coddled to have ever been introduced to alcohol or tobacco, had come up with a crutch all on his own. Sebastian snickered under his breath as he poured the cold milk into the teacup from the bottle he’d kept cool in the pantry. A human struggling to escape his own nature, also made to feel guilty for his own nature… Sebastian couldn’t lie and tell himself it wasn’t a positively delicious notion.

And yet… a full hour passed by with no outcry. Sebastian was minutely surprised. He had kept the cup of milk ready to deliver as he went about tidying up the kitchen for the end of the day. But eventually he had to admit to himself that the young master must have fallen asleep without indulging in his habit. Sebastian tutted as he poured the undrunk milk back into its bottle. He hadn’t meant to look forward to it, but it was a little boring to consider that his plan wouldn’t unfold after all… Oh well. Perhaps now was the time for some of the more encompassing chores Tanaka had warned him came with spring. Apparently replacing all of the winter curtains in the manor with a muslin set was only one such nuisance to consider…

It was two a.m. that brought the scream.

Sebastian knew this scream well. It was not the disgusted surprise of a boy who had tasted something unappealing, but the anguish of a soul bursting free from a nightmare. It was a sound all too familiar in this household. Sebastian dropped what he was doing to attend it at once. But perhaps he had been too unhurried all the same, because along the way, an actual summons was issued as well, then again, with all the persistence of a lost little lamb.

The lamps in their sconces flared to life as Sebastian entered the sitting area of the master bedroom. “I am here, young master. There is no need to call for me twice. I can guarantee you will be heard no matter how quiet you must be.”

Sebastian strode to the bedside casually nonetheless. He was never too harried in these cases. They were nearly always the same. Ciel would be hiding in a cave of his own blankets. Sebastian would produce a few whimsical promises for closeness, for security. Ciel would eventually drift back off and never mention their encounter in the morning. But tonight, the script was not being followed.

Ciel was sitting outside of the covers. He was bolt upright and rubbing at his face abrasively with his sleeves. “My eyes,” he said in a voice that was liquid and hollow. “S-Something is wrong with my eyes.”

Sebastian felt his insides give a lurch. Suddenly this was serious.

“Drop your hands at once.” He didn’t wait for the command to be followed. He snagged the little wrists and pulled them away. Ciel stared at him with wide, blinking eyes that were fringed pink with irritation. Sebastian clucked his tongue, disapproving. “Ah, look at this mess… What ever were you doing this for?”

Ciel’s face lit with the terror of an innocent. “It’s not my fault! I didn’t do anything! My eyes just started burning, and they won’t stop no matter what I do!” Ciel struggled in his butler’s grip, desperate to touch and rub and unwittingly worsen the situation. “It hurts, let me go—”

“Settle yourself down. Or am I unable to leave you alone for even a mere moment to retrieve the antidote for your suffering?” Sebastian said sternly. Exasperated, he freed one hand to pull the handkerchief from his lapel pocket. “If you must touch your eyes, do so with this. Your sleeves are the issue, so do not return to them. Do you understand me?”

Ciel was already busy grinding the clean cloth into his eye sockets. When Sebastian repeated himself, the young master immediately whined, “Yes, I get it, just help me already!”

To be so ungrateful when he’s at the mercy of whoever will come to his aid… Sebastian snorted a breath as he returned to fetch the milk from the kitchen. It was serving a different purpose than Sebastian had expected… and though it wasn’t as perfect a solution here as it was for taste buds, it certainly had to be better than that horrid paste of lead sugar and rainwater that other humans seemed to think was an acceptable cure for ocular inflammation. He returned with it and a clean cloth in less than a minute.

Ciel was still pressing the handkerchief into his eyes with both palms as if it would do any good. “Allow me to see now.” Sebastian pulled the child's hands away from his face without waiting. Ciel made a small noise of frustration in the back of his throat and swatted off the manhandling. There was a brief tussle of arms as both fought for control of the situation, but when the cold relief of the milk-soaked cloth touched his lids, Ciel froze beneath his butler's hand. The tantrum became a forgotten thing. All at once, Ciel sat as still and silent as a fawn while Sebastian dabbed at his eyes with salve.

Finally. Sebastian sighed loudly in relief. “There, there we are. Isn’t that better?”

“... What’s wrong with me…?” Ciel’s voice was thin and exhausted, the tension of a crisis finally flooding out of him.

Sebastian put on a wry grin. “If you hadn’t been indulging in your chewing habit, this wouldn’t have happened,” he said as he continued to tend to the site. “I soaked your sleeves in capsicum water a few days ago, so that if you tried putting them in your mouth when I had my back turned, the taste would repel you and I would know what you had done.”

“H-Huh…?” Ciel was half-awake and still working through his fear. “You… You did this?”

“You did this,” Sebastian corrected. “I was only trying to help you with your habit, and now here we are… Ah, but what were you rubbing your face for? This was not supposed to end up in your eyes.” A new, clean section of the cloth was selected and dipped in the milk.

Ciel stared at Sebastian, puzzled, bewildered. “This happened because of you?” His voice was picking up understanding, alongside volume.

“How could I expect that you would touch your eyes?” Sebastian huffed in exasperation. Ciel leaned away when he came at him with the cloth this time. “Young master, honestly…”

“Let me do it myself!” Ciel snatched the fabric away and began treating his own eyes, which were still rimmed in pink and watering in the aftermath. Sebastian watched him, narrowing his gaze. What a pathetic scene. The boy looked as miserable as a child who hadn’t gotten his way at a game and, in a show of disapproval at the injustice of life, let out a great bout of crocodile…

… tears.

“... The young master was having a bad dream before all of this, yes?” Sebastian asked.

Ciel had the entire upper half of his face hidden in the cloth now. “What do you care?”

“You were touching your eyes with your sleeves because you were crying.” No need to ask this time.

Ciel’s shoulders seized up. “Wh-What does it matter why I did it! It’s my clothing! I can do whatever I want with it! I don’t need to explain myself to you…” Then, with his eyes still covered by the cloth, Ciel dug down with his chin, slipped it beneath the collar of his pajamas, and clenched the material between his teeth to begin chewing.

Even after all this drama, he hasn’t given it up.

With nothing left in his arsenal, Sebastian simply observed for a moment in defeat. The boy was pressing a milk-soaked cloth to his face while gnawing the front of his nightclothes and sniveling relentlessly. It was no proud moment for either of them. Right now, they were not Earl and butler at all. They were again rendered the child and demon of their earliest days.

What was left to be done? Shaming his charge hadn’t done any good in destroying the habit, nor had this punishment. It was forcing Sebastian to assess if shame had really ever been useful to him beyond acting as a seasoning for a soul. It hadn’t changed this situation at all. Nothing Sebastian had tried so far had. If he wanted something to change, he had to try a different method. But what method would that even be? And how would that method serve to flavor the soul?

Sebastian did not have a clue. This was entirely new ground.

… Hmm. Something new.

Interesting.

“Let me take a look at your eyes now.” Sebastian nudged Ciel’s hands until they were finally lowered. The irritation was ebbing. Fortunate, but it made sense too: there couldn’t have been very much dried capsicum juice in those sleeves, really. “The skin looks improved. We should flush with water now instead.”

Ciel’s own personal irritation hadn’t gone anywhere. He said nothing, but he radiated anger and humiliation in equal measure from his person. Sebastian rinsed the cloth in the bathroom sink and returned with it still damp to press into the young master’s eyes next. Ciel sat and received this treatment like a kitten with raised hackles being bathed by his mother. This thought warmed Sebastian to the caretaking quite astoundingly.

Ciel let the collar of his shirt fall from his mouth to speak. “You can never do something like this to me again. Such tricks are barbaric and unacceptable for a butler.” His fingers were spread wide and nails clenching into the mattress as his pain was tended to.

Sebastian hummed a laugh. “So I will not. But surely this habit of yours must come to an end either way. How would you suggest I help you if not with force?”

Ciel grit his teeth. “If you don’t know what to do, then don’t do anything! Just leave me alone! If I just do this in private, who am I hurting anyway?”

“Your clothing and your reputation, certainly…” Sebastian mumbled. Ah, right; no more shame. “However, I have noticed that you only do this when no one but myself is watching. Thus, you clearly understand that this isn’t acceptable behavior.”

Ciel flushed. He lowered his chin. “O-Of course I know… I just keep doing it without thinking about it…”

That was surprising. Sebastian took the towel away. “Really. It is involuntary?”

Ciel blinked starrily in the lamplight. He glanced down at the bed. “Sort of.”

“You do not mean to do it, nor want to?” 

“I don’t mean to start…” Ciel furrowed his brow. “But when I notice I’m doing it, I don’t stop either.”

Hmm. “Why do you want to do this?” Sebastian had trouble keeping confusion out of his voice. “It is very unlike you and it is quite unseemly. Lady Midford would have a fit if she knew.”

Mortification washed over Ciel’s expression at the mention of aunt. “I don’t want to do this,” he explained hastily. “It’s just that I can’t stop. It feels good for some reason.” And then Ciel nearly put his sleeve in his mouth again, but flinched away at Sebastian’s warning. “See! I don’t mean to!” he cried, blushing again. He looked at Sebastian helplessly, indignantly, from the tops of his eyes. “I don’t mean to, all right… I don’t mean to…”

Sebastian was very surprised. All this time, the two of them were on the same page. Ciel didn’t like the behavior either. He was simply at its mercy. Was that why shaming him had had no effect? Because it already a matter of shame, not a matter of pride?

And ��� granted the previous was the case — if shame removed pride, then would pride remove shame?

There was only one way to find out.

“Let us get you into a new nightshirt,” Sebastian said. Ciel opened his mouth, and Sebastian interjected, “There will be no tricks this time. It is late, and the important thing now is getting you back to sleep so that tomorrow’s schedule isn’t a wreck. If you chew your sleeves tonight, then so be it. We will work out a new strategy in the morning.”

The boy’s posture slumped. “… Mmn. Fine.”

Ciel was subdued as the pajamas were swapped out. He kept touching his eyes, which were improved but likely rather dried out from their ordeal. He looked like he wanted to be angry still but wasn’t sure how to go about expressing it in this circumstance. As usual, he had not choice but to rely on the being that would one day claim his soul, and it likely left him feeling disturbed. Sebastian at least knew that much from prior contracts. What he didn’t know was what their ‘new strategy’ for stopping the sleeve-biting was going to be.

“Would you still want me to stay here until you fall asleep?” Sebastian offered as he walked his charge back to bed.

Ciel climbed delicately onto the enormous mattress that was meant for a married couple, not a single small child. He rubbed his contract eye and glared at Sebastian with the blue one. “Fine. But that doesn’t mean I’m happy with you,” he said at last. “You’re going to make up for this stupid prank. It was cruel. It goes completely against a ‘butler’s aesthetic,’ or however it is you put it.”

Sebastian narrowed his gaze but decided to concede. They shouldn’t fight anymore right now. “… Perhaps you are right. I went too far today.” 

“You definitely went too far.” The boy might’ve meant to sound angry but it came out as more of a plea.

Sebastian stood against the wall and waited for Ciel to tuck himself back into bed before extinguishing the light from the room. “Tomorrow, we will discuss a plan. Until then… I hope you are able to dream pleasantly. Goodnight, young master.”

Ciel curled up in bed. He stayed awake for longer than usual, nearly half an hour. But eventually there was a very careful shifting sound, and Sebastian registered that Ciel must be chewing his sleeves again. As promised, Sebastian did not put an end to the behavior, and very soon after the habit started up, the young master slipped off to sleep.

This proved that the action soothed him. It wasn’t just mindless incivility: it served a purpose, even for a half-grown child. How fascinating… and yet, it certainly could not continue. The soul of a wretched little orphan was no worthy meal. If Sebastian wanted to dine on the soul of a confident earl who left childhood behind him and never looked back, it meant Sebastian had to do whatever it took to instill that confidence. Even if that included being kind and understanding — temporarily, of course.

So then: where to begin?

▬▬▬▬▬ι═════════════ ☼ ═════════════ι▬▬▬▬▬

“Oh, goodness… Young master, do hold still for a moment. You’ve just managed to sully your right cuff with frosting.”

At the prompting of his butler, thirteen-year-old Ciel Phantomhive did not hold still. He instead curved his wrist around to analyze the situation for himself. “Oh, blast. Well, I had better not waste perfectly good chocolate.” Assessment complete, the boy unceremoniously opened his mouth and lipped the swath of frosting right off.

Sebastian could not refrain from grimacing. “Young master, must you forget your manners…”

Ciel was undaunted, smug even. “It’s my clothing, so I can do as I like.” He then held out his arm for Sebastian to have a chance at the remaining smear. “Here.”

There was nothing that could be done now though. “I’m afraid yellow soap and a turn at the washboard is the cure for this. We shall have to return to the bedroom and get you a new shirt.”

Ciel waved him off and continued with his dessert. “It’s already after dinnertime, so who cares. The servants won’t. And now I don’t have to worry about eating so carefully either…” Ciel licked the end of his finger almost cheerfully and helped himself to a heaping forkful of amandine cake.

Sebastian wanted to show more disapproval, but a memory stirred that turned one corner of his mouth up instead of down. “Young master, do you recall when chewing on your sleeves used to be a habit for you?”

Ciel swallowed and pinkened slightly with either embarrassment or disdain (probably both). “Are you seriously asking if I remember the night you put a spicy substance on my pajamas and allowed me to burn my eyes with it?”

Sebastian’s smile became sheepish. “Yes, that was the event, wasn't it… I still had plenty left to learn about how to treat children back then. Speaking of which, I don’t suppose you also remember how we came about helping you with your habit?”

Ciel lapped the prongs of his fork as if he were holding a lollipop. “Now I do. You asked me what I thought would be the way to handle it, and I said that you should reward me with dessert for breakfast if I stopped chewing whenever you asked me to.”

Sebastian nodded slowly, affirmatively. “To your credit, it did do the trick. It only took a few weeks for you to give up your habit altogether after that.”

“But there’s no chance you would ever let me have dessert for breakfast now,” Ciel snickered.

Sebastian followed with a chuckle of his own. “As I said, I had plenty yet to learn about how to treat children.” Ciel rolled his eyes, probably sour about being referred to as a child. Sebastian was in opposite spirits. “I don’t believe I ever properly apologized for the way I treated you back then.”

Ciel stared. Behind him through the window, the sun spangled through the tree limbs on its slow descent below the horizon. “You mean to tell me that you’re actually sorry about it?”

“What pride is there to be found, in tricking someone so young and vulnerable?” Sebastian bowed his forgiveness. “It was a shameful display. I should like to do better in the future.”

“...” Ciel glanced away after a few moments. “Apologies don’t become you. They only make you look all the more twisted for the things you don’t apologize for.”

“Ah, well, that is probably true.” Sebastian straightened up, feeling a strange sort of fondness.

“Besides,” Ciel made a mischievous expression, all too comfortable heckling a demon, for better or worse, “the old Sebastian was much smarter than the current Sebastian in one way.”

‘Current Sebastian’ tilted his chin inquiringly. “Oh? And dare I ask what way that is?”

Ciel scraped the last bit of cake off of his plate with his fork. “The old you knew that the best way to apologize is with chocolate.”

After a moment, Sebastian raised both eyebrows high. “Hmm, is that so? What a relief it is, then, that you have stated that apologies don’t become me.”

“W-Wait, wait, I only meant verbal apologies. Cake apologies are another matter.”

“Very good. Then I shall be sure to learn a recipe with semolina and chard for next time.”

“Chard? In a cake? Ugh, what a revolting idea. Surely your butler aesthetic would never let you serve that. Especially not as an apology.”

“Then perhaps the young master should not request any further ‘cake apologies’ lest he want to find out for certain. Now, let me clear your plate, and then it’s back to your vocabulary textbooks for a little evening practice. There are only three days remaining until we leave for Germany, and the young master’s pronunciation yet leaves something to be desired…”

#dadbastiansettingsun #dadbastainweek2023 #adrienne i ADORE the way you write sebastian #i adore the way your prose feels very sebastian-like #like his personaltiy digs into the descriptions and everything #its fantastically high level writing #and this was such a cute story sebastian you IDIOT

[dadbastianweek2023]

Dadbastian Week Day 7 : Setting Sun

Thank you so much for this week, it's been really fun, you're all very talented! I actually made myself a bit emotional on this one lol? It wasn't my intention, but here it is!

“It’s been a living of Sebastian tucking you in every night. When Sebastian ceases to exist, he will blow the candles one last time and cover you with night itself.”

The butler wished he could say his master wasn’t leaving alone. But he was still bound to the rules of contract, forbidding lies. His master was in bed and will pass away with dignity. It was all the butler could do, show appreciation for the gift of learning. This could never be undone. You cannot take back table manners once they’ve been taught, even to a monster. 

“I have no regrets, Sebastian.”

Such a privilege to have the right to lie. How human to desire decorum until the end. The boy chuckled at the butler’s expression. 

“I mean it.” Then this was a sad confession to make. 

“Do you have any?” the boy asked,

“Anyone reaching my age would get past such things as regrets. The transient pain we feel has lost meaning after a few centuries. But do not envy me, the torment of eternal beings is something you cannot fathom. Mortal or eternal, we cannot escape.” the demon explained,

“I do not envy you.”

“What a wise master were you,” Sebastian smiled at the small thing in a comforting way, “I hope I get the honor to meet another you in a few hundred years.” The master rolled his eyes and then, they both stayed silent. Turning back to a serious tone, the man broke it.

“Master, it’s time”

Time it was, for the butler to cover his master for the night.

—

Come come, boy, it’s time to bear the consequences of your choices. You chose a path where sins could not be atoned for, thus they became dead weight. Pain constant to this day. You chose a path of solitude and in this quest, made many allies. Many lives poisoned by your own curse. Many lives will dive learning your death. In the end, loneliness seeks, seeks, seeks for embrace, even if you do not. And it usually finds. How funny, I pity all of you. Exactly how much will sink back to me with you after your relief? I wonder. Whether it is worth the pain is no business of mine, no concern of yours anymore, the curse is passed down and will bear many children. 

I must warn you now, dying is not easy but nothing ever was to you. 

Saying this, into the woods The wolf carries the lamb, and then eats him Without any other why or wherefore. - The wolf and the lamb, Jean de la Fontaine

#dadbastianweek2023 #dadbastiansettingsun #YOU'RE MAKING ME CRY TOO... #THIS IS SO SWEET #i love the return to the poem #it really ties everything together very very nice;y

[dadbastianweek2023]

Day 5: Needing Advice

Sebastian works hard cooking up a storm in the kitchen, the birds chirping just outside the kitchen window as he slices some apples and pears.

Late autumn is a pleasant season for him. He greatly enjoys the slightly colder weather as the red and orange leaves dry up and shrivel down as the clouds grow thicker and colder until snow covered the land, he adored the ways hearts swell and beat in one motion as the sounds of crispy winds hit against the now bare dark bark trees, he loved the fun hunting seasons he used to attend alongside his kind before leaving Hell.

But now, he enjoys the hunt just as much.

With a small hum on his lips, the butler made his way upstairs to the young Earl of the house in the grand study of a room, the afternoon a calming affair around him as he walked his way down the hall.

His gloved hand reached out and knocked on the door softly before he entered the room, a habit he’s used to throughout the years. Upon entering the office, he sees the bluette Earl sitting at his desk staring at a letter of sorts in his hands. The butler smiled softly,

“Did Earl Trancy write to you again, Young Master?”

Ciel sputtered and “hid” the letter by shoving it to his chest, his lone blue eye glaring at the demon as he wheels the cart to the side of the desk and pouring some sweet smelling tea. “Today’s afternoon tea is a vanilla tea blend from the town’s market, and as a snack I have prepared some sliced apples drizzled in caramel sauce for you.” Said the man in black with an innocent yet knowing grin as he placed the tea saucer and cup next to the papers in front of the teen, the plate of apple slices coming afterwards.

He took notice of the Earl’s pink cheeks and still glaring eye and chuckled out, “Some friendly advice, My Lord, I say invite him over to a chess game. He’s a person, like you, who enjoys games even if he isn't quite good at them. I can even request Miss Doll to come too if you so order.”

Ciel blushed harder and practically slammed the paper down at the desk. “Oh, shut up!” He growled and took an aggressive bite off an apple slice, earning another soft chuckle from the demon beside him.

—

The afternoon rolled around carefully as Sebastian finally took notice of the rain that’s creeping up beside the human race. A smile comes to his lips as he looks to his Master where he pauses. Has Young Master been this tall before? Indeed, the once little Earl of the manor seems to be marching around proud with his height just easily noticeable and not just mere inches. He grins and shows off his peacock feathers to the butler as if sensing the surprise on the demon’s face. “What is it Sebastian?”

Sebastian blinked and chuckled a bit, “I just did not realize you’re actually becoming an adult now, My Lord. Though surely your legs are hurting, shall I put a kettle on?” The master shook his head, his hair slightly longer than the ears’ ends, swaying softly against pale skin. “I’m fine.” He said, a smile on his lips still as pride is obviously filling his chest. The butler smiles at this expression, “Very well then, My Lord.”

—

Snow falls down from the night sky as Sebastian walks down the halls of the manor, the scent of roasted chestnuts still lingering in the air alongside in perfect harmony of the soft pine that still hangs beautifully around the corners and every inch and bend of the stairway, the soft glow of candle light giving the halls that were once dead and haunted a warm welcoming glow of happy blissful memories in contrast of the once gloomy ones from the past. A cart with a small plate of chocolate cake and a warm iron kettle wheels in front of the butler as he walks past the frosted windows that face the illumination white landscape in front of the dark black canvas of the sky. Finally, he reached to a door and knocked softly, “Young Master, I have brought over your midnight snack.” Said he as he turned the glittering knob and entered the room. Instantly, the sound of a whine catches his attention.

Red eyes watch the scene of a grown adult dressed in pajamas that fit his age now but still have some ribbons and frills of youthful pasts cradling a little human of light brown locks of hair in his no longer small and weak arms, behind him seated in the lounging chair of the bedchamber is a blond fellow who softly sings to a wee infant with soft brown locks barely showing pass the blanket that wrap them up like a gift from God, and just beside the first adult is a woman with shoulder length brown hair who’s not having a so soft image like the two but instead dealing with the fussing dark haired toddler on her lap. Sebastian smiled softly in amusement at the scene and started to pour the sweet brown liquid of hot chocolate in three cups for each. “Is Little Albert fussy Miss Doll?” He asked, a small smirk hidden away showing he knows that boy is a fussy mess. The lady giggled softly at the tease and accepted when the cup of cocoa was handed to her, her golden band of marriage glittering under light. “Thank you Sebastian.” She said, her voice a sweet honey tone, kneeling the cup to the son in her arms who slowly took some careful ships and relaxed into her bosoms. The demon walked to the lounging chair to the blond man and offered the cup, pausing when a hand reached up in a stop motion. “Maybe later Sebastian, little Rachel is finally resting.” Said he, a smile full of love and happiness on the beautiful face as icey blues stared down at the soft skinned face of the sweet little babe in the cotton blanket. Sebastian smiles, “Of course Lord Trancy.” He turned to the final adult, and before he could open his mouth to ask, he spoke out before the butler, “You know I’ll never say no to your hot chocolate Sebastian.”

Sebastian chuckled and gave the cup to his master, smiling at the look of the little boy dozing off against his shoulder. As the three adults enjoyed the finally calm energy of the room, the butler gave Ciel a slice of cake and carefully took hold of baby Rachel from Alois so the man could enjoy a cup of cocoa alongside his partners. The demon stared at the small resting face in his arms and smiled, looking to the three who carefully moved the two boys onto the bed after they both tuckered out with little to no protests at all as they tuck them under the blankets at last. With a soft hum of his lips of a ditty from long ago, he carefully and gently places the littlest one in a lovely wooden carved cradle right by the room window, smiling softly at the view of dark lashes curled against pale eyelids. Carefully lifting the glass barrier, Sebastian snuffed out the candle light that lit the room and left the chambers with the parents with care.

The butler walked alongside the three who now show their tiredness fully as he helps them to their rooms as if something were to happen if he wasn’t along their sides at night. After they snuggled into the large bed that usually is only reserved for the husband and wife but have long since been used and worn by the Earl and his wife and their lover, they drank the remains of the warm cocoa and nibbled on the cake slices. Sebastian watched as his master yawned, smiling softly at the forever image of his small frame bruised and thinner than the icicles outside drinking some warm milk and honey even though now he’s grown and far past the little hurt lamb he was in the past. After accepting their dishes and bidding them a good night, the butler soon left the three be, and back again was he walking down the hall to return the dishes to the clean state they were prior. It’s almost strange to imagine these walls covered in cinder He thought as he walked and admired the manor he grew used to thanks to a certain small child rich in revenge and pain, smiling as he does as red eyes show warmth. Have a good rest, My Lord. May you dream of happy memories and the future.

I had a lot of fun this @dadbastianweek2023 thing! I hope to do this again!

#dadbastianweek2023 #dadbastianneededadvice #the internal thoughts in red is a very interesting touch #i like it!!!

[dadbastianweek2023]

(Late) Dadbastian week: October 31st-Trick or treat

I could've finished this sooner if I had done something quicker, but I really wanted to put more effort into it and make something more elaborate. We don't really celebrate Halloween in my country (at least not like in other places) so I've never been as enthusiastic about it, but I do enjoy making some spooky season art once in a while, and what better chance than a fandom week dedicated to my favorite duo? This also will probably be my last entry as I have exams soon (I should've started working on my Dadbastian art ages ago but, y'know, adhd 😞). But hey, if I pass these exams I'll have the whole summer free which means more art 👀 I'm just happy that I was able to participate, even with just a few entries, and I still plan to make and post the art I had in mind for the other prompts some day 🙂

Anyway, hope y'all enjoy my third entry for @dadbastianweek2023! I tried to emulate the style of those official illustrations by Yana but with my own personal touch 🎃

Babey wants to be just like his dad 🥺 (Don't worry, he's already forgiven Sebas for half-blinding him when he tried to eat him while in a feral state ✌️).

#dadbastiantrickortreat #dadbastianweek #I AM SCREAMING THIS IS SO CUTE #this is such a perfect costume for the two of them #they look so slay

[dadbastianweek2023]

Dadbastian week day 5 : Friendly advice

Uuh, that one was late too. Fortunately I had a bit of that one already written so it helped. Posted TrickOrTreat/Different Kids on the same day. I'm tired lol.

-

As always the manor is silent, though today that silence never broke. 

“I rarely had the chance to see you so calm and disposed, Sir.”

Sebastian’s taunts are not reciprocated, unsurprisingly. He was puzzled over Faustus’ letter, calling for advice over a situation he wasn’t able to handle and once again when he met a living doll lying on the bed where the master should be sleeping, confirming the nonsensical words he read on paper. Alois Trancy usually had a vibrant aura, an odd power of bringing life where emptiness found its nest. However, that gift seemed to have slipped out of his body and left an empty shell. Or it probably sunk deep within and made a cocoon of some sort, that would be more appropriate of an analogy. There, tucked under covers, his once alert eyes remained unfocused, vague. Was he even aware of his surroundings? If he was, the boy did not say any word, nor made any sound to protest Sebastian’s presence. If the Phantomhive butler was to take his arm, the boy would simply let him do so, and let it collapse as soon as it was released. 

“It’s not an uncommon state of his,” Claude explained, as if the boy was absent or napping between. Even if those heavy bags under his gaze indicated his state was far from being soothing. “Usually, it happens for a few minutes, hours on bad days… It never lasted this long, though.”

If Sebastian did not feel that sense of bitterness in the spider’s voice, he would probably have made a comment about how rested everyone must be. It’s been more than a few days since he received a letter, therefore just about the time to get concerned. Alois would only get up for absolute necessities, wouldn’t feed unless he was helped during the process, and even though he would mostly nibble, take a bite, then stop. He would say a word or two at most, wouldn’t scream at Hannah when she tried caring for his hair or tucking him in, wouldn’t scream at the triplets when they looked at him with curiosity and whispered at each other, wouldn’t scream at Claude for not paying attention. He wouldn’t scream anymore. It was started to be missed, in some ways.

The demon doesn’t need to explain the obvious. Sebastian had himself dipped his hands in the rusted cogs of human malfunctions once. A creature is a creature, none of them wants to feed on a starved corpse, but on a heart just when it reaches the right beat. Those types of reactions triggered a sense of fear to them, especially since humans were so tricky to help. An annoying puzzle in which each move could break it even more. Logical reasoning wouldn’t work here. He could understand in some ways, though his own master was far from catatonia in his times. He had used unconventional methods that happened to be working… But couldn’t in good conscience recommend them to the spider, since the Phantomhive earl was so different. Maybe Alois would retreat even further in, and never break in his state, ever, if he was to get brutally ripped out of his shell. Sebastian did not need another thousand years of feud with another demon. If he was the same as he was before, he would advise him to accept it as it is, just eat the fruit unripe and move on. He learned however, to tame himself, maybe the other butler did or was on the path. Explaining the humble call for help.  

“Was he seeing people?” He asked, carefully. 

“He was seeing us everyday” 

Sebastian chuckled, “This is not what I meant.”

“Then, he…” Claude paused, “was not for a time. We did lose track of such things.”

“You cannot lose track of such things.”

“I am aware.”

Other events surely did happen, but even this wasn’t a sure thing. A small silence set.

“Sir Trancy, would it please you to play with us?” questioned the Phantomhive Butler. 

“It’s unnecessary, he won’t answer you.” Claude replied for him, raising an eyebrow. 

“He does listen however, don’t you?” he finished the sentence, turning his head to the blond boy who simply blinked back. 

They left and placed a few books and games in the bedroom. Sebastian gave one book to the spider, hoping that by this time, he would have got where he was coming from. And every time they talked, the Phantomhive Butler made it so the boy would be solicited. It’s a lot of work for such a sick human but a necessary evil. Sebastian was scolded before for his unthoughtful decisions regarding his master’s health. He just couldn’t leave the great opportunity to now take that role with pride. Faustus, there's no doll in this house, no corpses either. Therefore your master is there and shall be treated as if he was. If as ill, then it would be as an ill, living human. 

“Master, would you still like to have tea with a light snack? It is getting late… But I will allow it this time,” Claude asked.

A soft answer escaped the boy’s lips, which mere humans would have trouble hearing. Obviously those men did not. Still, Sebastian would ask for a bit more work from him today. 

“We did not hear you, little one.” he said, as the spider side eyed him.

“...”

Alois glanced at him for a few seconds, then, with a little annoyance in the voice he finally repeated,

“I said… It must be Tea Time somewhere in the world still…”

This was quite the long yes. The Phantomhive Butler wasn’t unhappy to get a bit under his skin. This bratty display wouldn’t work with him. Truly, Claude could sometimes be the softest of those two. Knowing his time to come home was approaching, he bowed and paid his respects to the master of the house. 

“You might receive letters soon, I hope you will soon get well enough to read and answer them all!”

He then left the room, escorted by Faustus where they could finally talk as two. Putting his coat on, Sebastian said, “You might need some patience, but I do hope this is the right path.”

“I mastered patience quite well, I will be able to handle the rest of it” the other servant replied, 

“Good… You understand then.”

“Indeed.”

They exchanged a long stare. This now was a word, creature to creature, since the servants and the caregivers already found their answers.

“Never let them escape, Faustus.”

#dadbastianweek2023 #dadbastianfriendlyadvice #highkey obsessed w this one actually Oh my GOD #NANA YOUR WRITING IS SO GOOD #I FORGOT HOW MUCH I MISSED IT

[dadbastianweek2023]

Alois in my Trick or Treat prompt was like

#dadbastian week #dadbastiantrickortreat #ABSOLUTELY

[dadbastianweek2023]

Dadbastian week day 3&4 : Trick or Treat and Different Kids (late)

I'm late :( Meep.

That one is a bit odd. I fought with it for days and I'm not sure I like the final result but I was not going to throw every away. I hope yall still like it.

Slight warning for mention of alcohol and bleeding.

Butlers and masters were placed around the table, looking at the board laid down on it. It felt old looking, colorful squares following each other and spiraling around like a happy snake. The boys looked over lazily, still occupied by their candy fishing activity. 

“Would you please try and pay attention?” Sebastian sighed at them both, going over the instructions again. He was wearing a simple dark costume which Ciel had difficulties to recognize what it might refer to. So was Alois’ butler, who was quietly sorting pieces. 

“What are you?” Ciel asked, pointing his finger at his own butler. 

Sebastian blinked, a surprised look on his face. 

“Master,” he began, frowning, “Isn’t it obvious?”

Another pause followed his question. Before any answer had the time to form, he changed tone and subject completely, coming back to the board in front of them. It was a simple Game of Goose with a little twist – the boys would be playing the part of pieces and move along inside the manor as they progressed within the game. 

Alois clapped his hands in excitement, his clothes bouncing cutely. He was enveloped in soft tissues, all pink, making it seem as if he would dissolve in a cup of tea. His large blouse was tied up with ribbons on the sleeves at several places, his bloomer shorts paired with lace tights and boots complimented a long train of tulle, that could almost be mistaken as a dress from afar. The tulle joined in a fluffy bow on the back. A pointy hat finished the look of an ethereal fairy. Ciel wore a dark headpiece covering most of his head which was tied up in a bow under his chin. Two little fabric demon horns pointed out at the top and the piece framed his face with cream frills in such a way that it made it almost heart shaped, only leaving some strands of hair escaping from the cap. His long, flowy blouse blurred his shape and was paired with a darker vest, covered by a long coat. They were contrasting adorably. 

It was decided that Ciel as the youngest would be starting. He rolled his red dice and made his piece travel back and forth, meeting hardship on the way. It finally ended somewhere. 

“The Well. You will be starting in the Garden!” Sebastian explained and in doing so, gave Ciel his own dice, plus a miniature version of the board to take with him (he put it all in his pocket) and a lamp. The boy felt like he was about to travel to some unknown place. 

“And then?” he asked,

“And then, you’ll see.” Sebastian gently smiled at him. “Good luck, young master.”

The man gestured towards the door and Ciel blinked, not sure of what to make of such a dramatic display. Thinking of it as a part of the game, he left the warm room and was swallowed by the dark corridors. The sound of laughter and lights slowly faded as he continued to progress inside the manor until everything got quiet. Darkness was early on its schedule, indicating the winter was coming soon. However that contrast made the boy uneasy, it felt like the place had sunk somewhere or maybe he himself walked away, getting far as he felt the room earlier. Well, it’s all idiotic, he was far too old to be impressed by silence and lack of lights wasn’t he? 

The Well

Aimlessly wandering outside with the sound of his boots disturbing the wet grass as company, he started to feel lost.  

“And then,” he repeated to himself.

“Then,” an unexpected response came, from nowhere, “Your next stop is deeper”

Looking over for the voice, his eye landed on a tall figure with recognizable gold eyes. He was holding an umbrella, and it was at this moment Ciel registered the thin rain.

“Faustus”

“This is who I am,” the spider answered, unexpressive.  

“What are you supposed to be?” Ciel asked out of the blue. 

“At some point, during your childhood,” the butler began, “you probably had an irrational fear your parents couldn’t make sense of. Usually something from outside threatening to take you away, deep in the woods’ belly.” he paused, “I am that very thing, from inside the woods’ belly. I hope my answer satisfies you.”

The boy did not answer. Assuming he had no complaints, Claude pointed over to a small passage leading deeper in the gardens which he followed with unsure steps. At some point Ciel looked back. The spider was gone. What an odd interaction he just had. In the middle bushes he found it. An arranged area with a single, white table at the end. The only thing on it was an upside down tea cup. He reached for it. 

“Young Master! Young Master! Wait for us!”

He was again a bit startled but started to get used to the idea. Looking to the bushes he saw three red things rising, like gigantic plants coming to life. It took some eye rubbing to understand he wasn’t dreaming them. He deeply sighed, annoyed.

“You scared me!”

“Scare you? Why would we?” asked his servant Finny, with a puzzled expression.

“You should feel safer!” Meyrin followed.

Ciel raised his eyebrow analyzing their odd costume. They wore those enormous red hats, dotted in white, the rest was a beige puffy ensemble. 

“Don’t worry! We’re the kindest Amanitas!” the gardener chuckled, as if it was the cause of his master’s fear. 

“Quick quick, roll the dice, your friend got ahead!” Bard said, pressing him. 

Ciel shrugged, did as he was told and moved his finger on the miniature board, following the progression. He landed on the Labyrinth. Flopping the cup over, a folded message was found inside. 

“Congratulations on your first steps! You were wise enough to not poison yourself. What you are looking for might be in the Kitchen.”

“You have a long journey to go through,” his maid smiled, Ciel noticed the white freckles and added blush they were all three wearing to complete the full costume. “And we cannot escort you, but we’ll protect you from here!”

“You can count on us! We look inoffensive enough. The right people will know not to touch us! We’re very sweet mushrooms after all!” Finny added,

“And for those who do not,” Bard followed,

The gardener's eyes darkened, “It’s too bad for them.”

The Labyrinth

Ciel was like a tiny moth in search of fire. He saw an ominous light glowing from inside and the sound of something stirring, something being torn. Peaking a look inside, he caught the vision of his blond friend sat down on a chair, elbows on the table where candy filled carved pumpkins sneered at him. The tulle covering most of his back, he almost didn’t see how he was sitting on his knees in some kind of suckling way. The little devil slowly approached him and tapped his shoulder, hoping to startle him a little. It curiously did not. The boy wasn’t feeling like it

“What’s with the sad face? I thought fairies were all kind and joyful.”

“They’re not.” The cold tone of the blond teen shifted the mood of the scene. Alois mindlessly reached for candies again inside the pumpkin, the wrapped papers surrounding them like transparent butterflies… or used tissues after a crying night. Sebastian had prepared candied strawberries earlier and Alois had seemed to take a liking to them since the beginning of the night. 

“Now now, aren’t you a grumpy witch…” the youngest said, rolling his eyes at him. 

“Maybe I am. What is a witch but a lonely fairy” the blond boy replied softly.

They stayed like this for a moment, the silence only broken by the sound of Alois unwrapping the treats. He was tearing them apart more than he was eating them really.  

“Ugh, I had so much it’s rotting in my stomach.” 

The devil did not know what to do with the fairy’s mercurial temperament. Maybe one day, a long time ago he did, however tonight they were such different people. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the fairy’s hands, slamming the table. 

“You are here to take my place, so I have to move backtrack,” he chuckled, “It feels like it happens often. That’s okay though, someone has to be the very bad fairy no one wants to play with.” he shrugged. And it felt sad, listening to these words coming from such an angelic shell. 

“I am not the nicest either.” Ciel admitted, blushing. Well did he have actual horns on the top of his head.  

“Aw. Don’t pity me.”

The fairy got up. 

Revealing a nightmarish show. The devil gasped. 

“Alois, you’re… bleeding” was the only thing he could articulate. And bleeding he did, paying attention to the surroundings, it all dripped from the chair to the floor, following the steps like grotesque fairy powder. I did compliment the clothes nicely. 

Alois watched lazily, a wound gushing from his side, hidden by the layers of fabric. He watched it pour over his tulles with wonder and smiled as if Ciel was being silly. 

“This?” he rubbed his gloved hand on the stain, spreading blood like a messy child staining jam on their Sunday best. “Oh! So I was rotting inside then!” he shook his head, giggling quietly at first until a louder laugh followed, louder and louder until tears appeared on the corners of his eyes. 

“I feel… I feel like sleeping in the woods for a very long time… I can become a nice fairy again...” He left, walking out of the kitchen, and Ciel tried to pursue him but as soon as Alois got out, he was completely gone. 

Feeling a presence behind him he turned and saw an upside down cup on the table. He looked inside, finding another message.

“You reached the Labyrinth and defeated the witch. Roll the dice and turn me around”

Landed on the Prison square.

“How unfortunate! wait in the corner until someone frees you. Maybe think about what you’ve done.”

The Prison

He found said corner somewhere in the long corridors, feeling stupid as he placed himself like a punished student. The little devil wished he followed the fairy but couldn’t make sense of most of his actions tonight. Whether it was his own or his.  

Quickly a voice came from behind.

“Hehehe.. You seem like you’re having a lot of fun, Earl. Maybe not right now though.”

Ciel turned around, seeing a long white haired man dressed with a doctor blouse laughing at him. 

“I am not the only one having fun. I don’t remember calling you over.”

The man did not get offended by the comment and continued,

“My my, I am only passing by to help you! I am a known Doctor who brought life to death. You surely know which one, you’re a very smart boy aren’t you!” he laughed again, the boy’s unimpressed face indicating he probably got it. “There's a big difference between us two however. He failed and I did not. We know why he did, so there's no reason for me to repeat the same mistake!”

“The same mistake?”

The man took a more serious tone, “he was horrified by what he made and doomed himself from the start, you see. I am quite proud however... Therefore I won’t fail,” he paused, "Why reject someone you made?" he quickly shook his head and looked at the tiny earl. “But it’s none of your concern for now is it? Let’s get back to your game. I hope you keep having fun, because I sure do!” and with a last giggle, he left the corridors, only leaving a cup behind. 

Without any ceremony, Ciel followed the same procedure, landing in the Hotel. 

“Rest in the master bedroom”

The Hotel

Entering his room slowly, this time he directly read the message on his night stand, as no one was there to instruct him.  

“Please wait for your turn to come. The end is coming soon enough.”

Ciel sat down on the bed kicking his feet, thinking his exhausting night over. A sense of sadness rose he couldn’t point the finger on. Maybe it was being in his room. He wanted this all over. Laying down the boy listened to the clock ticking, almost falling asleep. 

knock knock. 

He looked everywhere. It didn’t come from the door. 

knock knock 

A chill ran down his spine as he understood the sound was coming from inside the room. Everything became deadly silent at the end of each knock. At the third one he understood with horror. It might have come from under the bed. Stuck in his position, the boy did not answer hoping whatever was knocking would drop it and disappear maybe.

“Boo!” a muffled voice came from the same place.

It couldn’t be possible, again, a lot of impossible things happened today. But that one couldn’t actually be possible. 

“Oi! I said boo!” repeated the voice, annoyed at the lack of reaction. It couldn’t be possible. It would even be stupid to ask. He needed to try though, the intuition was stronger. 

“..C..Ciel..?” he asked, unsure. 

Without any kind of suspense, the voice simply answered, “Of course it’s me! You don’t recognize your own brother?” If his twin said anything, he did not hear it, so he continued, “I can’t show myself yet.” he paused before laughing, “I want my little brother to see me when I am ready. We don’t want you to get all sad and cry over me don’t we? I am a ghost for Halloween, this is why you cannot see me, let’s just agree on that!”

The little devil had so much to say, none of it came up. Pure shock ran through his body, disorienting his mind. At the same time, it felt like it made sense in a way he couldn’t explain. Like a natural event within the game. It felt as being in a drunken state. Suddenly he heard something rolling from inside the bed to the floor outside. It has a pair of dice again. 

“Oh! You got Death”

“Ciel, wait–”

“We’re not supposed to meet tonight, don’t be greedy! You need to finish quickly so we can see other soon!”

“I.. hm.. I m..” words came in with difficulty. And he never had the time to say all of them. 

“No,” Ciel cut him like he read his mind “I did.”

Then, no words. Getting out of his state of stupor, the boy slowly got up and got on his knees, looking under the bed. 

Empty space. 

Death 

He walked back to where he began mindlessly. The reverse phenomenon happened, where it seemed like getting out of a sunk world and coming back to earth, meeting everyone inside the warm, lighted out room. His servants waved at him before coming back to their loud games.  

“Congratulations Young Master!” his butler greeted. Congratulations? Wasn’t the Death square basically a loss?

Ciel growled, feeling like his butler got his entertainment for the year to come. His eye laid on Alois who was knocking his head against Claude’s chest, looking tired. 

“Alois are you okay?” he asked, concerned, as the memories from the kitchen came up again.

“Ughhh, too many strawberries…”

“Who cares! The wound, you idiot!”

“What are you talking about?” the blond boy’s face turned to him, looking completely normal. 

“The.. Kitchen..” Ciel began and slowly reached the conclusion that it wouldn’t matter. 

“I don’t remember seeing you there! Maybe you had too much of those liquor chocolate, I saw you stealing some!” the blond boy giggled, bubbly as usual. How. 

The boy glanced towards his butler, arboring his most mischievous smile. 

Of course. 

Square 63

The same night, Sebastian tucked his little master in. 

“Did you appreciate tonight’s festivities?” he asked,

“Some of it were in poor taste,” Ciel said with quite the annoyance on the tip of his tongue, “we probably don’t see eye to eye in the concept of a friendly game. But why would I be surprised, coming from something like you.” Turning his back to him, he clicked his tongue. 

“My my, someone really had too much liquor chocolate.”

Sebastian blew off the candle after addressing some few apologetic words. Walking away, he glanced one last time at the sleeping figure, smiling. 

“Torment is all I know and all that entertains me. Apologies young master, happy halloween!”

#dadbastianweek #dadbastiantrickortreat #dadbastiandifferentkids #!!!!!!!!!!!!

[dadbastianweek2023]

Dadbastian Week 2023 - Setting sun

“Seeing my little bluebird grow up into a fine young man shows that I’ve been one hell of a father.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Let’s end this week off on a bittersweet note. This has been really fun, but I’ll let you know that I’m not done with this AU yet. 😊

This is clearly based on an ending that I wish could happen in canon but probably won’t.

-

Yes, I accidentally made Lizzy take most of the bottom frame but I really liked drawing her wedding dress.

#sad but adorable #dadbastainsettingsun #a lovely conclusion to your little storyline!!!!

[dadbastianweek2023]

Thank you all so much! You have been amazing. This week has been amazing. #dadbastiansettingsun #dadbastianweek2023

✿NOVEMBER 4TH - SETTING SUN✿

"Farewell to a very long day."

[dadbastianweek2023]

NOVEMBER 3RD - NEEDED ADVICE

(read this on AO3 here)

dadbastian week day six! the penultimate entry, already?

this one is... there is not much going on. one of my sillier renditions of sebastian being an idiot in agni's vicinity, essentially.

in which sebastian asks a good friend for help when his young master gives him the cold shoulder.

enjoy!

When his friend opens the door, Sebastian doesn’t give himself any time to back out of this — it is not quite a matter of life or death, but being inherently exempt from both, he feels that the situation is dire enough to warrant the same kind of attention.

“Mr. Agni, I need your help.”

“Mr. Sebastian, is it nice to see you… alone? How unusual. Is your young master—”

“He is well,” Sebastian immediately cuts in. “I… have been dismissed for the day.”

Agni stares at him in disbelief, but after a few seconds — long enough for Sebastian to feel uncomfortably seen, scrutinised, and dissected — he seems to accept it as the truth it is.

“…I assume this has something to do with your visit, then.”

No time like the present. “He is terribly mad at me.”

The following silence is awkward in a way that forces Sebastian to interpret it as a call for further explanation.

“And this wouldn’t usually be a problem, especially since he doesn’t ask anything of me that interferes with my duties as his butler, or the oaths that bind me to him.”

Silence, again. Sebastian thinks Agni looks very unimpressed with the formal, impersonal phrasing he chose, so he adapts.

“…But I don’t like it.”

This is going to be difficult, Agni thinks. Though he holds a particular fondness for his friend, the theatrics of his constant bickering with the earl are migraine-inducing on a good day. It has only gotten worse as he has grown warmer and more affectionate towards the boy — which is going about as well as it possibly can, so terribly. 

Not for the first time since he met him, Agni wishes Sebastian could be less obtuse.

“The first step to redeem yourself in his eyes is quite simple, my friend.”

Silence stretches between them as Sebastian merely watches Agni realise very few things are quite simple when it comes to his… social relations. To his credit, he does get back on track quite fast.

“If you’ve truly done wrong, then an apology is in order. Reassure him of your intent to do better in the future, and hopefully he will believe and forgive you.”

“I have already tried that, actually.”

“Ah. I must say I’m glad to see so much personal growth, even if it apparently hasn’t gone too well?”

“He refuses to hear a single word from me, and insists on having me dismissed as soon as the bare minimum of my work is done.”

Sebastian does not want to think about what he must look like right now, defeated and resigned by a moody child’s refusal to talk. Part of him knows it is understandable to feel this way, as this is not any child, but one he would almost dare to consider his, but most of his thoughts revolve around the sheer ridicule of the situation.

Agni gives him an undoubtedly pitying look and Sebastian feels a bit like a wounded, confused animal. Something small, with a fast heartbeat. The thought gives a warm tinge to his embarrassment.

“What you need is a peace offering,” Agni eventually says, in that light and clear tone of his that means he wants Sebastian to listen and learn. “Of course you’ll run into closed doors if you make no effort to open them.”

“…Are you recommending bribery, of all things? I thought I’d never see the day.”

“Not bribery, no, it’s… extending an olive branch, of sorts,” Agni corrects, though he looks somewhat flustered at the accusation. “The ideal branch being something that he likes, but cannot have without you providing.”

“There is not much he can get without me, really.” Surprisingly easy. Do all emotional problems come with odd but simple solutions?

“...Right. One of these days, you and I are going to have a talk about that.”

As that sounds particularly unpleasant, Sebastian immediately starts coming up with ideas instead.

Eventually, they come to agree that Sebastian should bake whatever sugary monstrosity his young master likes the most. Agni watches with no small amusement as Sebastian stands, and almost reaches for his coat, but seems to remember something. After blinking slowly at the clock for a few seconds, he turns back to Agni, looking most contrite.

“I am also essentially banned from the manor for the next… six hours, still.”

Agni sighs. How does such a small child hold grudges so fiercely?

He truly considers ignoring his own morals and being unhelpful for the sake of having a peaceful day. However, his exasperation is far outweighed by his fondness and sympathy for his friend, who is in clear need of a helping hand — despite his… rather intense love for cats, Sebastian reminds Agni of a dog left in the rain on most days. So, he decides to provide.

“…You may stay and use the kitchen here, if you’d like.”

As Sebastian returns to the manor, his steps are light with the feeling of a job well done.

Even though the “cake” would be better described as a condensed block of all kinds of chocolate, he knows it is to the earl’s taste — as in, too sweet to be reasonable — and will please him greatly.

When, at last, nothing but a door stands between him and his young master, he can’t help but think of the incredible irony of feeding delicacies to the boy who essentially is his very own chocolate cake. It is a ridiculous thought. Perhaps the hunger is getting to his head.

(It would be more accurate to say it has been getting to his head for more than a handful of years now, and these days he can’t quite distinguish the ache of hunger pains from his newfound yearning. Not that it will matter, in the end.)

Sebastian cautiously knocks. No answer.

“I’ve come with cake. Your favourite, specifically.”

“...Come in.”

Naturally, the child is still mad despite the cake, as these things take time. However, the offering is enough for Sebastian to be given back the right to stay by his side as usual, and that is more than enough.

The relief he feels makes Sebastian understand his boy’s love for all things sweet.

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