Amanitus
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Vincent knelt down, holding up the kid's t-shirt, and he was level with the bruises. With his son’s kitten nipples, sharp and pink and shadowed with splotched purple. Marked. Bitten, and Vincent pulled the t-shirt down again. He looked up at Ciel’s closed white face.
‘What,’ he said, ‘the fuck is this?’
‘Nothing,’ said Ciel, again, and he opened his blue eyes wide and wet and fluttering. Faltering.
‘Where were you? When I was looking for you?’
‘Garage.’ Concrete scuffs, raw on his bare knees.
‘With who?’
‘Mhhm,’ said Ciel. His little pink mouth was pressed closed. His chin was crumpling. ‘Nobody.’People are talking about Vincent's kid.
Vincent doesn't like it.
He doesn't like the way Ciel looks at his daddy's grown-up friend, either.It's a vent fic. Lacking any possible moral redemption. The tags say it all, really.
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The child had destroyed himself. Or been destroyed, a little every day. He would become something else. Dying and waking. Is this what it meant, those words? His precious Stoics. Their contemplation of death. Look squarely at the things you fear.
Perhaps that’s why the boy had always met his servant’s gaze so steadily.
In the wake of the Campania's disastrous voyage, Ciel Phantomhive has plenty to cause him anxiety. His health, his betrayal by the Undertaker, and Easter lunch with his family.
And despite recent injury, his demon appears to be in the mood for games...Series
- Part 4 of Flowers of Evil
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Oxford University.
A star student. His professor.
An unexpected text message.
And a tasty lesson in Ethics from Dr Michaelis...
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Shinji knows the countdown intimately.
Even with his eyes closed, his body knows its point in space—recognises the tilt, the angle of suspension. Feels each movement around him, the slow immersion of the pilot plug. The sharp hiss of hydraulic satisfaction.
The head-rest braces him firmly. Tenderly. He is in his father’s hands, here as everywhere.A plotless little warmup piece I recently found in my WIPS. Why the heck not?
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Sebastian drained his glass and followed his master. And it was a pity that alcohol had no effect on his body, it truly was, because the sound of low laughter and clinking glass and swirling conversation was surging in his blood, and it was dangerous. He was alert. He was very much in the mood to do something pointless and interesting.
The Earl of Phantomhive is (supposedly) on holiday. Sebastian is (predictably) determined to make the most of it. And they both get a little more than they were expecting.Series
- Part 3 of Flowers of Evil
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{The Garden of Earthly Delights} Prepositions Ficlets by Amanitus
Fandom Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
26 Jul 2020
- Words:
- 2,555
- Works:
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- Bookmarks:
- 1
Recent bookmarks
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Bookmarked by Amanitus
20 Jun 2026
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In the wake of their German expedition, Ciel confronts Sebastian about his attempt to consume his soul. And accepts some home truths.
Bookmarked by Amanitus
12 Jul 2025
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Paris, 1967.
A free-spirited French bohemian meets a young, wealthy aristocrat.
The first thing that Sebasitan noticed about him was that he looked like he didn't belong here.
Too proper. Too prim. Clad not in the dark uniform of the bohemian intelligentsia, but a fine, stone-colored brocade shirt with a crumpled collar.
The second thing that Sebastian noticed was that he was beautiful.
Large blue eyes. Cheeks full with youth. Pale skin. A rosy tint just beneath the surface of it, like a drop of blood rubbed into white silk and spread across the entire arc of his features. Streaks of grey ran through his dark hair, and the startling contrast only made him more beautiful.
The third, and most interesting thing was not something Sebastian saw so much as something he felt, curiously enough.
Palpable apathy.
Bookmarked by Amanitus
04 Oct 2020
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Oftentimes Ciel feels self conscious about his small frame and his weak limbs in contrast to his butler's hulking form (an unnecessary size, really, even for a grown up), but late at night, when the crickets sing and the moon hangs high, and Sebastian engulfs Ciel with every inch of himself, the boy thinks having such a massive butler caring for him might just be okay.
(Prompt XV: Size Difference)
Series
- Part 4 of Sebaciel's Kinkmas in July 2020
Bookmarked by Amanitus
18 Jul 2020
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“Young master,” Sebastian has the gall to say, “it’s not yet time.”
This demon doesn’t make any bloody sense. “What the fuck? Let me finish.”
Sebastian smiles. “No.”
Ciel blinks. “Shall I order you to do it?”
“If you must fall to such lows, young master,” Sebastian says with a sigh. “That would be rather unrefined, wouldn’t it? Just like your pleasure…”
Bookmarked by Amanitus
13 Jul 2020