Fanfiction: "Snow White" - Sebastian/Ciel
Fandom: Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler)
Pairing: Sebastian Michaelis/ Ciel Phantomhive
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Character Death; Kissing; Vague Sexual References; Spoilers for the latest Kuroshitsuji Chapters; OOC-ness
Summary: Sebastian's Funeral is possibly too grand for one of his stature...
Author's Note: Just a drabble written months ago while hanging out at a friend's house.
Snow White
Hair as black as night, and skin as white as snow..
.
Sleeping peacefully among the roses...
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
T'was not uncommon for grand funerals to be held. However, it was uncommon for such a grand funeral to be held for a Butler. Butlers are meant only to serve their master and therefore are below that of nobles. And yet, this Butler was given the honor of a funeral grand enough for the queen herself.
The grand guest of honor was such a quixotic character. His title that of a Butler, but he had beauty that surpassed even that of nobles. Inside the open mahogany casket of the finest wood, he laid hands clasped over his chest. The casket painted a shade that rivaled the beauty of its owner; Lined in the finest crimson silk that rivaled that of the owner's eyes. Upon his left lapel over his still heart lie the precious polished crest of the family he served. He had been meticulous in keeping it clean and polished it reverently daily. His soft black hair lie curved around his face daintily, and his countenance feigning sleep. Were it not for the white roses that rivaled his flesh's tone, surrounding him, and the manner in which his body was stiff he would have seemed he were just resting his eyes for a short while.
Ciel was the only one here in the church.
How ironic. A demon getting a funeral within a church. Ciel chuckled grimly.
The demon inside the casket, had he been alive, would have smirked maliciously at the concept. However, he was not alive. He was dead. Cold, unfeeling, dead.
In his life he too had been cold and unfeeling emotionally, but he was soft, warm, and alive. He had smirked at his Young master's actions, and groaned in exasperation at the servants who messed things up more often than not. When Ciel had a nightmare, the demon would brew his master the finest chamomile tea to soothe his nerves and would stay by his side loyally holding his candelabra. When Ciel was in danger the demon would willingly move the young teen out of the way of harm and take the full brunt of it himself. When they encountered enemies, the demon would simply eliminate them. When Ciel just needed the simple reassurance for his sorrow, the demon would comfort him with smooth gloves and caresses.
Ciel leaned over the coffin still in disbelief. Demons don't die. They're immortal.
More often than he'd like to admit Ciel has seen the demon become a living shooting range, a grim reaper's scythe sharpening post, and many other horrible things. Yet the demon had live through such occurrences. However, a fireplace poker through the chest and a bash on the head, had rendered him dead?
Ludicrous.
Impossible.
Yet here he was, leaning over the coffin, staring at the demon's beautiful, peaceful face. It still looks soft and warm. Ciel carefully, slowly, gently brings his hand up. He lightly brushes the back of his knuckles against the cheek. It is still soft he notices, but to his chagrin, it remains like ice. He continues to stroke the cheek. It is a form of a comfort.
Is the demon's contract still engraved into his right eye? He brings his hand up to touch his eye patch. Yes, it is. What about the demon's left hand. Does it still remain there?
Ciel carefully pulls back the edge of his glove. Hoping to see just even a smidgen of the black tattoo like mark. With trembling elation he finds the very edge of the contract. He has no hope though.
With the contract in place the demon would have to obey every demand of Ciel. When he ordered the demon to wake up, upon finding his corpse, the demon didn't move.
Tenderly, Ciel had held his blood stained face with his own blood stained hands. He begged the demon urgently with his tone of voice and desperation, but with his words it was clearly a command. Yet, the demon disobeyed his one belief. His aesthetics. It was within the demon's belief that he is to never go against his aesthetics, being his master killed, him arriving on time to wake the master, or even disobeying a single order from his master. So Ciel knew that the demon had to have died.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
Ciel remembered the moment he found the demon. It had been replaying over and over, looping for eternity as if it were the only thing he could remember. He was sure it would be the only thing replaying on his cinematic record were he to be killed now.
When he had found the demon he found him lying on his back in a puddle of his own blood. Jutting from his chest grotesquely was a fire place poker, shining starkly against the black and red. The demon's eyes had been amber at the time due to his human disguise, but they had been opened wide as if in shock, the pupils dilated. His mouth, that had smirked so very often was open wide as if he had been taken by surprised. There had been dried blood on the edges as it ran down his chin and his ivory neck. Some blood seemed to have come from his tear ducts as there had been a trail leading from it down his cheek towards his ear.
At first Ciel had thought him to be playing dead, as he had before when he'd become riddled with bullets. However, after ordering him once, and receiving no answer he proceeded to anchor his foot on the demon's collarbone. Pressing down hard to the point it was painful he recited his order again. As before he received no response. His teeth ground together, and he yelled out at the demon's insolence. So he grasped the handle of the vile weapon protruding from the demon's torso and wrenched it out violently. The demon did not bleed further, nor did he move. Ciel had thrown the accursed thing across the room and straddled the demon's stomach, wrenching the demon up by the lapels of his jacket, yelling command after command. Again the demon did not reply so he raised his palm and slapped the demon repeatedly. Insubordination would not be tolerated in his household. The servants no longer able to take the sight of the young master's grief stopped him from beating the corpse further. Bardroy had knelt down and closed the demon's eyes. Let him rest in peace now.
The idea had begun to sink into his head. In disbelief, his body trembled, even as his hand reached out to cup the demon's face. Ciel asked the demon beneath him if he was really dead, not believing for a second that the demon who had helped him regain his sanity and sense of comfort; his security- was dead. He remembered the feeling of the demon's neck as he leaned over him, still straddling his stomach, and burying his head in the demon's neck. His peach hands stained with blood turning white from clenching the lapels tightly. Unrelentingly. It was cold. Unbearably so. Was it not just the night before that he had gingerly ran his warm hand over Ciel's thin frail wrist, before clasping the damned shackles? He missed the warmth. The flesh beneath him was stiff. Rigor mortise must have set in. He tried to prevent his tears from leaking out, but one solitary one fell from his eye and ran down the demon's neck, and fell down into the dip of his collar bone beneath his shirt.
All too quickly the servants tried to wrench Ciel off of the demon. He writhed and struggled, kicking his legs, grasping the lapels tightly. Before he was wrenched off completely, he managed to take the Butler's pin. He was dead. What did he need with a pin claiming he worked for and belonged to the Phantomhive household?
With the blood stained hands he turned the pin over to the former butler, and tried to move on.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
The criminal was found shortly after, and turned over to the law.
Ciel didn't care.
Before the funeral, Tanaka, his current Butler, turned the pin back over to Ciel and told him it was better that Sebastian keep it.
So while the Undertaker prepared the body, Ciel had carefully reapplied the pin to the lapel.
The Undertaker had done a great job. It was hardly believable that the demon had been pierced by a poker and had his head bashed in. The demon looked as he had lived. The hole repaired, the bash hidden beneath the freshly cleaned and shampooed hair. The faint rouge to his face made him appear warm to the touch. His countenance relaxed.
He looked beautiful.
As always.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
He just wanted the demon to wake up. At the very least gain back the comforting warmth.
Ciel knelt over the demon further, pressing their foreheads together. The temperatures clashed. Ciel shivered. It was discerning to know that this demon would never be warm again.
He exhaled and felt his breath bounce back in his face. There was no other breath mingling with his own. This demon was ultimately dead.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
This serpent of a demon had offered Ciel a juicy red apple, filled to the brim with promises.
However, the apple had been poisoned and had taken from him what little sanity he had remaining.
With the demon's black hair, and skin as white as snow, Ciel had believed him and graciously eaten the apple.
Now the poison set in and stripped him bare.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
Ciel brushed his lips softly against the demon's as he had done many times before. But this time in goodbye, and prepared to close the casket and leave the church. However, the demon's eyes opened to reveal beautiful crimson irises and slit pupils. Ciel's eyes opened wide in shock.
"Oh my, oh my, it appears something has happened, Young Master," the demon smirked sitting up, his bones creaking slightly from disuse.
Ciel uncaring of how the demon would react later threw himself at the demon and hugged him tightly around the waist.
The demon was shocked, but smiled none the less and wrapped his arms around Ciel gently. Careful not to break the frail boy.
The boy was happy the demon was alive.
He pulled back from the demon, and raised his palm high in the air. The demon expected this and smirked. The young master let his hand fly and smacked the demon hard across his cheek. Ciel noticed the cheek gaining the warmth he so desired. The demon's head that had turned from the force of the slap turned to face the young boy. His smile a grimace.
"I didn't want to leave you either, Young Master," he spoke truthfully and quietly.
Ciel thought it amazing that the demon showed some semblance of emotions. However, what emotions there had appeared to be on the demon's face was promptly effaced with a smirk. Ciel was pulled into another embrace, and the demon leaned down to brush his lips against his.
It was good to have Sebastian back.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
With black hair as dark as night, and skin as pale as snow; beauty unparalleled.
The demon had slept as deep as death.
With a brush on the lips with a kiss, he awoke.
The poisoned apple festered, waiting.
It would take affect one day soon...
XXX
End
Pairing: Sebastian Michaelis/ Ciel Phantomhive
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Character Death; Kissing; Vague Sexual References; Spoilers for the latest Kuroshitsuji Chapters; OOC-ness
Summary: Sebastian's Funeral is possibly too grand for one of his stature...
Author's Note: Just a drabble written months ago while hanging out at a friend's house.
Snow White
Hair as black as night, and skin as white as snow..
.
Sleeping peacefully among the roses...
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
T'was not uncommon for grand funerals to be held. However, it was uncommon for such a grand funeral to be held for a Butler. Butlers are meant only to serve their master and therefore are below that of nobles. And yet, this Butler was given the honor of a funeral grand enough for the queen herself.
The grand guest of honor was such a quixotic character. His title that of a Butler, but he had beauty that surpassed even that of nobles. Inside the open mahogany casket of the finest wood, he laid hands clasped over his chest. The casket painted a shade that rivaled the beauty of its owner; Lined in the finest crimson silk that rivaled that of the owner's eyes. Upon his left lapel over his still heart lie the precious polished crest of the family he served. He had been meticulous in keeping it clean and polished it reverently daily. His soft black hair lie curved around his face daintily, and his countenance feigning sleep. Were it not for the white roses that rivaled his flesh's tone, surrounding him, and the manner in which his body was stiff he would have seemed he were just resting his eyes for a short while.
Ciel was the only one here in the church.
How ironic. A demon getting a funeral within a church. Ciel chuckled grimly.
The demon inside the casket, had he been alive, would have smirked maliciously at the concept. However, he was not alive. He was dead. Cold, unfeeling, dead.
In his life he too had been cold and unfeeling emotionally, but he was soft, warm, and alive. He had smirked at his Young master's actions, and groaned in exasperation at the servants who messed things up more often than not. When Ciel had a nightmare, the demon would brew his master the finest chamomile tea to soothe his nerves and would stay by his side loyally holding his candelabra. When Ciel was in danger the demon would willingly move the young teen out of the way of harm and take the full brunt of it himself. When they encountered enemies, the demon would simply eliminate them. When Ciel just needed the simple reassurance for his sorrow, the demon would comfort him with smooth gloves and caresses.
Ciel leaned over the coffin still in disbelief. Demons don't die. They're immortal.
More often than he'd like to admit Ciel has seen the demon become a living shooting range, a grim reaper's scythe sharpening post, and many other horrible things. Yet the demon had live through such occurrences. However, a fireplace poker through the chest and a bash on the head, had rendered him dead?
Ludicrous.
Impossible.
Yet here he was, leaning over the coffin, staring at the demon's beautiful, peaceful face. It still looks soft and warm. Ciel carefully, slowly, gently brings his hand up. He lightly brushes the back of his knuckles against the cheek. It is still soft he notices, but to his chagrin, it remains like ice. He continues to stroke the cheek. It is a form of a comfort.
Is the demon's contract still engraved into his right eye? He brings his hand up to touch his eye patch. Yes, it is. What about the demon's left hand. Does it still remain there?
Ciel carefully pulls back the edge of his glove. Hoping to see just even a smidgen of the black tattoo like mark. With trembling elation he finds the very edge of the contract. He has no hope though.
With the contract in place the demon would have to obey every demand of Ciel. When he ordered the demon to wake up, upon finding his corpse, the demon didn't move.
Tenderly, Ciel had held his blood stained face with his own blood stained hands. He begged the demon urgently with his tone of voice and desperation, but with his words it was clearly a command. Yet, the demon disobeyed his one belief. His aesthetics. It was within the demon's belief that he is to never go against his aesthetics, being his master killed, him arriving on time to wake the master, or even disobeying a single order from his master. So Ciel knew that the demon had to have died.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
Ciel remembered the moment he found the demon. It had been replaying over and over, looping for eternity as if it were the only thing he could remember. He was sure it would be the only thing replaying on his cinematic record were he to be killed now.
When he had found the demon he found him lying on his back in a puddle of his own blood. Jutting from his chest grotesquely was a fire place poker, shining starkly against the black and red. The demon's eyes had been amber at the time due to his human disguise, but they had been opened wide as if in shock, the pupils dilated. His mouth, that had smirked so very often was open wide as if he had been taken by surprised. There had been dried blood on the edges as it ran down his chin and his ivory neck. Some blood seemed to have come from his tear ducts as there had been a trail leading from it down his cheek towards his ear.
At first Ciel had thought him to be playing dead, as he had before when he'd become riddled with bullets. However, after ordering him once, and receiving no answer he proceeded to anchor his foot on the demon's collarbone. Pressing down hard to the point it was painful he recited his order again. As before he received no response. His teeth ground together, and he yelled out at the demon's insolence. So he grasped the handle of the vile weapon protruding from the demon's torso and wrenched it out violently. The demon did not bleed further, nor did he move. Ciel had thrown the accursed thing across the room and straddled the demon's stomach, wrenching the demon up by the lapels of his jacket, yelling command after command. Again the demon did not reply so he raised his palm and slapped the demon repeatedly. Insubordination would not be tolerated in his household. The servants no longer able to take the sight of the young master's grief stopped him from beating the corpse further. Bardroy had knelt down and closed the demon's eyes. Let him rest in peace now.
The idea had begun to sink into his head. In disbelief, his body trembled, even as his hand reached out to cup the demon's face. Ciel asked the demon beneath him if he was really dead, not believing for a second that the demon who had helped him regain his sanity and sense of comfort; his security- was dead. He remembered the feeling of the demon's neck as he leaned over him, still straddling his stomach, and burying his head in the demon's neck. His peach hands stained with blood turning white from clenching the lapels tightly. Unrelentingly. It was cold. Unbearably so. Was it not just the night before that he had gingerly ran his warm hand over Ciel's thin frail wrist, before clasping the damned shackles? He missed the warmth. The flesh beneath him was stiff. Rigor mortise must have set in. He tried to prevent his tears from leaking out, but one solitary one fell from his eye and ran down the demon's neck, and fell down into the dip of his collar bone beneath his shirt.
All too quickly the servants tried to wrench Ciel off of the demon. He writhed and struggled, kicking his legs, grasping the lapels tightly. Before he was wrenched off completely, he managed to take the Butler's pin. He was dead. What did he need with a pin claiming he worked for and belonged to the Phantomhive household?
With the blood stained hands he turned the pin over to the former butler, and tried to move on.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
The criminal was found shortly after, and turned over to the law.
Ciel didn't care.
Before the funeral, Tanaka, his current Butler, turned the pin back over to Ciel and told him it was better that Sebastian keep it.
So while the Undertaker prepared the body, Ciel had carefully reapplied the pin to the lapel.
The Undertaker had done a great job. It was hardly believable that the demon had been pierced by a poker and had his head bashed in. The demon looked as he had lived. The hole repaired, the bash hidden beneath the freshly cleaned and shampooed hair. The faint rouge to his face made him appear warm to the touch. His countenance relaxed.
He looked beautiful.
As always.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
He just wanted the demon to wake up. At the very least gain back the comforting warmth.
Ciel knelt over the demon further, pressing their foreheads together. The temperatures clashed. Ciel shivered. It was discerning to know that this demon would never be warm again.
He exhaled and felt his breath bounce back in his face. There was no other breath mingling with his own. This demon was ultimately dead.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
This serpent of a demon had offered Ciel a juicy red apple, filled to the brim with promises.
However, the apple had been poisoned and had taken from him what little sanity he had remaining.
With the demon's black hair, and skin as white as snow, Ciel had believed him and graciously eaten the apple.
Now the poison set in and stripped him bare.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
Ciel brushed his lips softly against the demon's as he had done many times before. But this time in goodbye, and prepared to close the casket and leave the church. However, the demon's eyes opened to reveal beautiful crimson irises and slit pupils. Ciel's eyes opened wide in shock.
"Oh my, oh my, it appears something has happened, Young Master," the demon smirked sitting up, his bones creaking slightly from disuse.
Ciel uncaring of how the demon would react later threw himself at the demon and hugged him tightly around the waist.
The demon was shocked, but smiled none the less and wrapped his arms around Ciel gently. Careful not to break the frail boy.
The boy was happy the demon was alive.
He pulled back from the demon, and raised his palm high in the air. The demon expected this and smirked. The young master let his hand fly and smacked the demon hard across his cheek. Ciel noticed the cheek gaining the warmth he so desired. The demon's head that had turned from the force of the slap turned to face the young boy. His smile a grimace.
"I didn't want to leave you either, Young Master," he spoke truthfully and quietly.
Ciel thought it amazing that the demon showed some semblance of emotions. However, what emotions there had appeared to be on the demon's face was promptly effaced with a smirk. Ciel was pulled into another embrace, and the demon leaned down to brush his lips against his.
It was good to have Sebastian back.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
With black hair as dark as night, and skin as pale as snow; beauty unparalleled.
The demon had slept as deep as death.
With a brush on the lips with a kiss, he awoke.
The poisoned apple festered, waiting.
It would take affect one day soon...
XXX
End