A/N: Welp, this is just a oneshot I wrote for Father's day a long while back. Featuring of course, everyone's favorite pink-eyed baby, Shellobeth Crevan. P.S: She is one year old at this point, sorry for some of the jumping around but ages are hard to keep track of.

P.P.S: This was originally a one shot story but after a while I decided to add it to this story because I've got a few things I want to rattle off real real quick and just couldn't think of any other chapter!

1: Shellobeth in Wonderland photos have been loaded onto my Deviant Art under the folder(s) Black Butler, and Fanfiction scenes.

2: If you want to see more of this then please get your friends to read it also and keep up the views and reviews for this story.

3: Please offer suggestions for other chapters you want to see in the future.

4: Yes, there will be a build up to the Jack the Ripper arc, so there will be a section of this story in which Shellobeth is mentioned just not present. This starts now, well actually after this slightly modified chapter dubbed 'Father's Day.'

With adulthood being such a stretch away, and her toddler years quickly approaching her, the young child of the humble morgue of England, often found herself occupying her free time with what ever her young mind would allow her to take in as a device. For example, she could toddle from one room to another at will, had enough words in her vocabulary to sing a few lines of the church hymns she would catch every Sunday during her daily walk, as well as a knack for finding the materials suitable for making make-shift gifts what ever holiday would catch her ear.

With that being said, the one year old child now sat among a pile of paper, colored inks, quill pens, a pair of scissors (Don't tell Grell, she stole them from him) and several small tubes of glitter and a pot of glue. Her small pigtails, which had been tied up by herself with loose pieces of cloth to keep her hair out of her eyes, were as messy as her bedroom floor but she took no notice of it. What she was working on was far more important than anything at the moment.

"F-W-A-H-T-E-R." She sounded out slowly, reading from the calendar she had taken from the front parlor earlier that day, as her pen scratched at the sheet of parchment, though due to her day in age as well as her being left handed, the spelling of the word wasn't even close to how the word was actually spelled. Grinning widely at the mess of ink, the child turned quickly to a black jar beside her hip, and reached inside, feeling around for something as her free hand took a quarter of a handful of paste and pressed it against the parchment. Finally, she withdrew a torn bat wing from her jar, as well as a handful of spider bits and tossed them down on the card half hazardously, creating a painting of mismatched parts and colored ink.

"Perfwet!" She cheered happily as she finished up what she was writing and then snatched the paper up off of the floor and toddled off, at the same moment her adoptive father was coming to check on her.

They collided a tad, ending with the baby being knocked onto her arse, and then flat on her back as she looked up at the older reaper and held out her card. She smiled her inhuman grin and carefully pressed a spiders leg back into its sticky prison of glue when she saw that it had slid out of place.

"Hello Shelly, what have you got there?" He asked, tilting his head to one side as he picked her up.

"Perfwet!" She cried as she held up the parchment in her hand, cackling loudly there after.

It was a small, cracked heart shaped piece of paper with scribbles of silver and pink made to look like two people and small skulls on it. In the top corner of the heart an attempt at writing 'Happy father's day' (which came out with all the Ys being backwards and father's looking more like a word that the child should be scolded for) and a small scribbled curl which was known to be the child's signature. A remains of a bat and the limbs of a few spiders were mixed in with the golden flakes of silver the child had added. It was a father's day card.

"Aww, thats very nice, Shelly." Her father cackled, taking both her and the card to the front parlor and setting her on a nearby coffin and the card on top of that body sculpture he always seemed to have laying around.

"Yeah! Perfwet!" Shellobeth cooed happily, watching in wonder as her father swiftly went to a nearby coffin and flipped the lid open, followed by a very loud clatter as the lid hit a nearby wall, sending some bits of it from the floor and shaking the wall's structure.

The sounds of rummaging soon filled the near empty morgue as he searched for something, and soon he withdrew a mallet and a metal stake. Nonchalantly, he walked back over to where the card was placed and re-angled it so that the top corner of the heart was now placed against the body's forehead and put the stake against it. With one hit, the bit of metal was driven through both the card and the head as Shellobeth giggled wildly. After this, she was picked back up by her father and placed on top of his top hat so that she could see her work of art, now with a stake driven through it.