Disclaimer: I own neither "Kuro," nor these prompts.
Author's Note: SIIIIIIGH~
So, after my "That Butler Grocery Shops (and That Master Rides in the Cart)" picture, my dear lj user="neocloud9" and I joked about me writing an AU where Sebastian is Ciel's adopted father. And I said I wouldn't.
Ha.
But because I don't have enough time to actually write this as a series, I decided to go the mini-fic/sentence route. These prompts come from the "Avatar: The Last Airbender" community, so if they look familiar… well, that's why.
Also, I heartily invite anyone who wants to continue this AU to do so. Because I'd love to see more of it. XD
Warnings: AU. OOC-ness, due to the AU-ness. Fluff. Not my best work. Lack of a chronological order.
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Adoption Papers
A Collection of AU Sentences and Ficlets
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01: Comfort
Sebastian Michaelis wasn't used to dealing with children, let alone frightened ten-year-olds who had recently been orphaned. Telling the young boy he was sorry for his loss sounded so callous and impersonal; babbling platitudes was meaningless and patronizing. And while he had no desire to remain sitting in an awkward silence with the boy, Sebastian had no earthly idea how interact with this petite stranger.
It'd help if the child would give some indication of how he felt about… well, the entirety of this situation, but no—he remained blank-faced and mute, choosing to simply watch the winter countryside go by beyond the window.
Sebastian's gloved hands tighten around the car's steering wheel. "I suppose I should introduce myself, shall I…?" he ventured warily, auburn eyes flicking between the highway and the child beside him. "My name is—"
"I know who you are," the boy intoned flatly, gaze decidedly locked upon the English landscape. "You're my father's old butler. And you got dumped with me because no one else in my family wanted to take me in."
Sebastian blinked swiftly, a little taken aback by the bitterness in his new charge's tone. "But that's not entirely true, is it?" he corrected, trying to sound gentle. "It's not that the Middlefords did not want you, it's that your father left explicit instructions that you should be left to m—"
"Don't lie," Ciel snapped, curling his thin arms more tightly around his person. Coiled up as he was, he almost looked too small to be sitting there without a booster seat… "I lived with them for a while, you know. I know they didn't want me. They were liars, too… and I hate liars."
Another hush, uncomfortable and heavy. Sebastian considered turning on the radio, but thought better of it; he didn't want the child to think he was attempting to shut him up.
"…so are you still a butler?" the little one asked after a few moments. The query was accompanied by a brief perusal with a single sapphire iris; Ciel's right eye was hidden behind a gauzy white bandage. Apparently, he had been injured when the robbers had broken into his family's home and…
Sebastian cleared his throat. "I am."
"That's a rather archaic job," Ciel mumbled, dismissive. Sebastian almost missed the curtness; he was rather busy being impressed by the pre-teen's vernacular. "Are you quite certain you can afford to keep me on whatever meager salary you're making?"
And—finally— there it was. It was faint, but Sebastian was quite proud of his hearing… and he knew what he had heard: a subtle but definite crack in the child's voice. Weak and masked, but true emotion (true trepidation) nevertheless.
The butler smiled softly, feeling himself relax a bit. For all of his thorns, he was still just a scared child… "Not to worry, Ciel," he reassured soothingly, shooting the boy another brief glance. "I won't be sending you anywhere else. You're home, now."
Ciel arched a single, sardonic eyebrow.
"…well, you will be, once we reach the manor," Sebastian corrected, sounding somewhat sheepish.
The boy snorted, muttering darkly under his breath. But even as he grumbled, his thin lips betrayed him: they had quirked into a tiny grin, growing as his tensed body visibly relaxed.
02: Kiss
"Um…"
Sebastian watched the squirming twelve-year-old with an expression of mild curiosity painted upon his features. Before him, Ciel was blushing brightly, almost writhing in his dinosaur-print pajamas. His toes curled and uncurled in his drooping socks; his hands were fisted in the fabric of his shirt. He was clearly a man on a mission, but what sort of mission was, for now, a mystery.
"…yes?" the butler prompted after a spell, his feather duster pointedly half-raised—just like his brow.
Ciel swallowed. Whined. Turned a darker shade of magenta. And then—
With a violent tug of his caretaker's front, the little boy yanked Sebastian down to his level; thrusting himself onto his tiptoes, he briefly brushed his lips over the older man's cheekbone.
"Good-night-Sebastian-sleep-well-see-you-in-the-morning."
And with that garbled goodbye, Ciel scampered into the darkness, leaving a very confused—and equally pink—Sebastian in his wake.
03: Soft
"That kid's turnin' you soft," Bard snickered, casting Sebastian a knowing glance from over the many pots and pans on the kitchen stove.
The butler, in return, shot the chef a withering glare. "He is doing no such thing," he retorted with a haughty sniff.
"Whatever you say…" the blonde snorted, rolling his eyes as he lit a cigarette. "But two months ago, you would have killed anyone who'd tried to put a ribbon in your hair…"
Sebastian coughed, clearing his throat with a flush and a glower. "It was a present," he explained (protested) weakly. "And he said it matched my eyes."
04: Pain
"Bashed your knee on the coffee table? Did you hurt the table? Oh, I'm teasing… no, Ciel, don't cry. See? You're okay. Let me put a band-aid on it… There. All better."
05: Potatoes
"No dessert until you finish your supper," Sebastian decreed, even as Ciel hissed and spat. "And you can sit there until you've cleaned your plate."
"But I hate potatoes!" Ciel complained, kicking and fidgeting in the dining room chair. His caretaker ignored him, choosing instead to begin clearing his own dishes; noticing this, the child saved his energy, and instead began sculpting a castle out of the white globs of mashed spuds that he refused (on principle) to eat.
06: Rain
"Wake up on the wrong side of the bed, did we, Ciel?"
The eleven-year-old glanced briefly up from his soggy cereal, glum of face and pouty of lips. "No…" he grunted in response, twisting away from the sweatpants-clad Sebastian and his mug of fresh coffee. "It's raining."
His caretaker cocked his disheveled head. "So?" he prompted, taking a careful sip of his steaming beverage. "What's that got to do with your sour attitude?"
Uh, everything. "You said we could go to the park today," Ciel explained— in a tone of great exasperation, for wasn't it just like an adult to be so stupid? "But we can't if it's raining."
"…why not?"
Ciel tilted his head to find Sebastian looming above him, looking genuinely confused. "There's no rule that says we have to stay inside," the older one pointed out, shrugging vaguely. "I didn't buy you that raincoat for nothing. Besides, I bet we have the whole park to ourselves in weather like this."
Sebastian beamed, amused by the child's expression of awestruck wonderment. "Right, then," he concluded, setting aside his empty coffee cup. "Finish your breakfast and get ready."
Ciel did so with great enthusiasm.
07: Chocolate
"Ciel! I said no dessert until you finished your supper! Get out of the candy cupboard!"
08: Happiness
His knees were scraped, his clothes were muddy, and his eye patch was starting to slip… But the eleven-year-old was too excited to notice, squealing as he raced down the soccer field and jumped into his coach's waiting arms.
"Did you see, Sebastian? Did you see— I made a goal!"
Sebastian—too choked up to speak—nodded, and cheered, and swung the laughing boy in exuberant circles, so proud he thought he might cry.
09: Telephone
"Hello?"
"Yes, is Sebastian Michaelis available to speak?"
"I'm sorry, he's out right now. Can I take a message?"
"Oh, are you his son?"
"…"
"Hello?"
"…yes. Yes, I am."
10: Ears
"I cannot believe you pierced your ears, Ciel!"
"You didn't have to drag me out of the mall! You totally embarrassed me!"
"I embarrassed you? You look like a girl!"
"I do not!"
"You didn't even ask permission, first…"
"I'm fifteen! I can do what I want!"
"Think again, young man!"
11: Name
"Dad, can you please pass the salt?"
"Of course, here you g—"
Sebastian froze, salt shaker in his hand and arm half-extended. He blinked once, startled.
The fourteen-year-old, in turn, shot his surprised caretaker an inquiring glance, face contorted in the classic 'are you insane?' expression that all teenagers utilize at least once a day. "…are you okay?" Ciel then asked, as if the significance of the moment had been entirely lost upon him. And perhaps it had; perhaps he hadn't even noticed what he'd said.
But Sebastian had, and he was finding it more and more difficult not to smile like a crazy person.
"Yes, I'm fine. Fantastic, really. I apologize; here you are…"
12: Sensual
"Who's she, Sebastian?"
"Ciel!"
Sebastian (as well as his guest) leapt about a foot in the air when the little head popped up from behind the couch, dressed in footie pajamas and toting a large stuffed rabbit.
"What are you doing down here? I put you to bed three hours ago!" Sebastian snapped, scowling at the little boy who was now busily attempting to scramble over the back of the sofa. With a wriggle of his tiny behind, the tiny ten-year-old toppled (rather pointedly) between his caretaker and the brunette stranger, giving the curly-haired lady a suspicious once-over.
"…she looks like she's part of the circus," the child sniffed disapprovingly. He scooted all the closer to Sebastian, as if trying to guard him, or hide him from sight. "She wears enough makeup to be a clown."
"Ciel!" Sebastian scolded, trying to simultaneously frown at the boy and shoot his date an apologetic look. "That was both rude and uncalled for! Tell Miss Beast you're sorry."
"No."
"N—? Now, you listen here—!"
"It's alright, Sebastian," Beast interrupted with a flustered half-smile, apparently unsure whether she should be offended or amused by the boy's antics. As she made her decision, she busily adjusted the straps of her top, making sure they were all properly fastened… "I'm sorry, Ciel. We've never been properly introduced, have we? My name is Beast. Sebastian has told me all about you."
"Has he?" Ciel's retort was as biting and cold as his one-eyed glare. "Funny. He never mentioned you."
Beast lowered the hand she'd jovially lifted; her smile was becoming decidedly more forced. Sebastian, meanwhile, was hiding his head in his clenched fists.
"Well… um…" The young woman cleared her throat, and she tried to play nice. Tried to remember that this little boy had recently gone through a great deal of emotional trauma; tried to remind herself that it was only natural that he should be so protective of his new guardian. It would be in everyone's best interest if she tried to be his friend... "You were actually right, earlier. I do work at the circus."
"Are you part of the vanishing act?" the little boy drawled, unimpressed. "Because I'd sure love to see you disappear."
Beast's pale face instantly became as red as her lipstick. "…alright, well, let's call it a night, shall we?"
13: Death
"Do you know what day it is?"
"Mmm."
"Did you want to… go visit their graves?"
"Not really."
"Alright."
"…would you come with?"
"If you wanted me to."
"…okay."
14: Sex
Sebastian blanched as soon as the question had fallen from Ciel's lips. He knew this day would come, but oh, how he had dreaded it…
"Er, well… when a man and a woman… um… care a great deal about each other…"
15: Touch
"I don't care if you want to or not—you are going to hold my hand as we cross the street, and that's final."
16: Weakness
Mayelne tried—with very little success—to hide her giggles behind her hand. "I like your new hair bow, Mr. Sebastian," she complimented with a grin, and was tickled all the further when her coworker blushed and muttered something about his adorable new charge.
17: Tears
"… you know," Sebastian said quietly, lowering himself onto the edge of Ciel's bed. "It is okay to cry, if you wish. I know you must miss your mother and father…"
The ten-year-old glanced up from his poetry book, head tipped in evident bewilderment. "Why would I cry?" he asked, genuinely puzzled. "I mean, I have you, don't I?"
18: Speed
Sebastian hadn't known how fast he could run until he heard it— the scream, the crash, and the sickening silence.
19: Wind
"Look at the kite I made in art class, Sebastian! Can you help me fly it?"
20: Life
"Alright, first you spin the spinner, and then move your little car token."
"Should I start on 'college' or 'career'?"
"College, of course! In today's day and age, you need to obtain a proper education if you ever hope to—"
"Sebastian?"
"Yes?"
"I wanted to play a game, not be lectured at."
"…sorry."
21: Jealousy
"Alright, Ciel. Look at me— look at me—that's better. Now, tell me honestly. Why don't you like Miss Beast?"
22: Hands
Sebastian's shoulders slumped as he sighed, eying the multi-colored handprints that made a mosaic of the wall. "Did some finger painting today, did we, Ciel?"
The little boy (who's face boasted more hues than a melted rainbow) looked duly impressed. "How'd you know?"
23: Taste
"It's delicious!"
"You're lying."
"No, really. It's very good!"
To prove his point, Sebastian stuffed another spoonful of Cocoa Puff-infused scrambled eggs into his mouth (choked back a grimace) and swallowed. And Ciel, bedecked in an oversized and food-stained apron, couldn't help but smile.
24: Blood
"Ciel, are you alright?"
Dazed from his fall and decidedly winded, Ciel turned his bleary eyes from the tree he'd been climbing and instead focused on Sebastian's panicked countenance. There was a teardrop of blood seeping from his temple, oozing slowly down the pale expanse of his face; the child hazily remembered smacking his flailing elbow into something seconds before a pair of arms caught him. There'd been a crack, and he remembered half-thinking of how painful it had sounded…
"Sebastian…?" he croaked dizzily, trying to hear his caretaker over the pounding of his adrenaline-charged heart. "Are you okay?"
Sebastian's response was a bone-crushing hug.
25: Sickness
Knock, knock.
"Sebastian?"
Knock, knock.
"Sebastian…? Are you okay in there?"
Knock, knock.
"Did you catch my flu?"
Knock, retch.
"…do you need the Puke Bucket?"
26: Melody"What are you humming?"the gardener suddenly asked.
Ciel, pulled from his thoughts, looked up from his collection of Legos. If it had been anyone else, he might not have answered… But he liked Finny—he was funny and kind and would play with Ciel during his lunch break. So he told him: "A song my mother used to sing."
"…Oh."
"It's very pretty," the nearby maid complimented, speaking over Finnian's guilty murmur.
"Yeah," the child agreed. He liked Maylene, also—she was pretty and smelt nice and gave him candy when Sebastian wasn't looking.
"Does it have words?" the chef pressed, crouching down to add a green brick to Ciel's plastic construction.
Ciel was rather fond of Bard, as well (which explained why he allowed him to help with his tower); he was strong and brave and made things blow up—which was pretty cool. "Mhm."
"Would you teach the lyrics to us?" Finny requested, grinning widely as he joined Ciel on the tiled kitchen floor.
The child's face immediately scrunched into an expression of suspicion and uncertainty. "Why?" he demanded, even as he shared his bricks with the gardener.
"We'd like to sing along," Maylene explained, offering the eleven-year-old an encouraging smile.
"If that's okay with you," Bard tacked on.
Ciel regarded all three with a look of solemn consideration. And then, with a brusque nod, announced: "…alright. It goes like this…"
27: Star
Ciel didn't believe in magic (not really), but that didn't keep him from wishing on the evening star every night.
"I love my new home," he'd whisper as he stared at the heavens from his open bedroom window. "Please let me keep it, this time."
28: Fear
"Ciel… I'm angry at you because you broke the vase. That does not mean I hate you, or that I am going to give you away. It just means that I am mad."
29: Lightning/Thunder
Little hands quivered and trembled as they clutched Sebastian's quilt, giving the coverlet (and the man beneath it) a pull-tug-shake; the butler jolted awake to find a frail, terrified face mere inches from his own, his pallid features glowing in the plasma afterglow of a lightning bolt.
"Ciel…?" Sebastian yawned, sparing a moment to glance at the clock. 2:34 AM. "What's the matter…?"
"Sebastian…" the little boy whispered, jumping as another crash of thunder ripped through the stormy spring sky, "I, um… know that thunderstorms are frightening… so if you want, I thought I could sleep in your bed with you. And— eep!— keep you from getting scared…"
For a brief moment, Sebastian didn't respond. Rather, he couldn't respond—he was afraid that if he opened his mouth, he might not be able to keep himself from chuckling. But a few moments was all he needed to compose himself; soon, he was nodding somberly, and scooting over so as to let Ciel clamber into bed next to him.
"However did you know that I needed you here, Ciel?" he inquired—somehow able to keep enough affectionate sarcasm out of his voice so as not to alert the boy to the fact that he was teasing him. In response, the child curled close, burying his face in Sebastian's chest and cuddling into him as if he were a giant teddy bear.
"I'm just smart like that," the boy then informed with a yawn.
Sebastian rolled his eyes as they both drifted back to sleep.
30: Market
"I want cookies."
"We're not buying cookies, Ciel. You do not need them."
"…then can I get cereal?"
"If sugar is not the first ingredient listed."
"Hmph."
"Don't pout—and don't kick your feet, either! You're shaking the cart, and you're going to hit me."
"Well, then, don't get that tomato! I don't like tomatoes."
"You like tomato sauce."
"That's different!"
"You don't say."
"I do say! And I'm not gonna eat that if you buy it."
"Well, then, you'll have no dessert tonight."
"What? I hate you!"
"As you say."
"…"
"…"
"…"
"…"
"…Sebastian?"
"Hm?"
"…I don't really hate you."
"I know."
"But I do hate tomatoes."
"Too bad. It's still going in the cart."
"Sebastiaaaaaaan!"
"Don't whine. And get your hand out from under the produce sprinkler—you're going to get all dirty."
"I really do hate you!"
"…"
"…"
"…"
"… I really don't."
"I know."
XXX