“Such greed for one your size”, the beast had praised him before scarring his left eye with its mark, thereby sealing his fate — before it proceeded to encourage the boy to bestow upon it his very first order.
CONTEXT WARNINGS: O!Ciel’s original name is assumed to be “Sirius” here. | The context of this piece is drenched in a WIP of mine for a longfic in which O!Ciel shares his body as vessel with Sebastian as opposed to having him serve as a human butler.
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“Now that you have obtained the power of a demon,” it stated, perched besides Sirius upon that cursed altar, the unexpected tender hold its hands offered while cradling the child’s bloodied face contrasted with the sharp ends of its claws against his soft skin, rendering the boy dumbfounded “you shall never have to bow down to anyone ever again.”
In what seemed to be the kind gesture of wiping a child’s tears in attempt to provide comfort, the demon ran one of its fingers underneath his left eye, smearing the blood that dripped down from the wound it had inflicted across his young master’s cheek. “You may be as proud as a king, and as loud as a beast.” it cooed, and if not for the whole context of how that moment came to be and the nature of the creature in front of him, Sirius could have easily let himself believe it had a heart. “Release your inner desires and fulfill your wildest dreams!” It encouraged, suddenly letting go of him — and so it shifted back to what it was, what it should be, bearing that viciously sharp smirk it had before.
“Now…” it growled, with a look of hunger in its slitted eyes that stared right into the boy’s own “say it!”
So he did.
After a brief moment contemplating the cold metal chains that held him in place, the threat he had made — the one which summoned the beast that stood before him — came into mind.
“Kill…” he mumbled, his whole body trembling under the weight of the rage that flowed through his small form, before shaking his head.
“No.” Sirius whispered.
He had to do it himself.
He had raised his head again, meeting the hunger in the demon’s gaze with his own, the expression on his face distorted like that of an enraged hound.
So then, as the previously deep blue of his left eye turned a dark shade of purple and the sigil within it started to glow, the child growled back at his distorted version of a savior “Grant me your power!” he demanded, as loud as a beast, and though new tears of anger blurred the figure before him, he felt its grin grow wider “I wish for the strength to kill all of them with my own hands!”
With what seemed to be a twisted sense of pride, a sinisterly breathed out laughter escaped the demon. “Oh, I might’ve underestimated you, young master.” it purred while the dark essence slipped out of its abnormally tall body and begun to engulf both the fiend itself and its prey, the thudding sounds and confused yelps echoing outside the shadowy shield around them suggesting it had let go of the cultists. “Very well.”
Before any questions could be uttered, the humanoid form of the creature dissipated back onto the darkness that surrounded him, but the boy had been granted no time for processing any thoughts that might’ve happened. Soon enough the shadows grew even closer, engulfing Sirius’ frail body in a hellish warm hug that made him feel like his skin could melt into his bones, the pain and confusion too much to bear.
“Do not fear the darkness within, little one.” The devil’s hoarse voice echoed through his mind as he felt the eye in which he now carried the proof of his corruption twitch, unable to force it closed. Something flowed through it, causing a throbbing sensation that was most unpleasant and agonizing as the beast merged its essence with his “For this is the weapon you shall yield from this day onward.”
Even through the unbelievable amount of pain and confusion, these words echoed inside his mind. Visions of the last month emerged from deep within, the prays they had cried out in the middle of the night — the begging and crying for help and mercy. The silence they got in return.
If no blessing had been offered to him, then the curse would have to do.
The boy had clenched his fists, taking a deep and difficult breath and letting the pain and wrath that flowed through him run wild, to fuel the literal beast inside that weak shell of a body that had been given to him. To reshape him in its likeness.
A twisted, distorted and cruel laughter that surely didn’t belong to Sirius alone bursted from his lips as the shadows slipping from his body formed a new pair of clawed hands atop of his own. As his own teeth grew and sharpened, his pupils became slitted and his body began to move as if he were a wild creature, he now could hear and see and smell the desperation and fear coming from the leeches who dared hurt him and kill his brother — and it tasted delicious.
With a sudden thrash, his shackles had been shattered, and then no much time had passed before those pesky insects had turned to puddles of blood, minced meat and displaced limbs on the floor of that disgraceful building.
“Well done, master.” The voice of the demon praised him as the boy, having come down from his berserk state, stared silently at the result of his bloodthirsty rampage. He stood drenched in blood from head to toe — as well as teeth and hands, even after returning to his normal appearance. The shadows around clang to him, dancing around his small frame.
He smiled at the compliment, looking down at his bloodied hands. Even though the vision and the thought of the carnage should make him sick, —and perphaps, in some level, it did — he had done it with his own hands. He had proved himself to no longer be that weak child inside the cage.
“What is your name?” it questioned, and he somehow felt it was smiling, even if it didn’t have an outward appearance he could look at anymore.
What a weird question to ask, he thought. Because of course it knew. It had to know, given that it was speaking to him from inside his head. The child smirked down at himself before mumbling out a lie: “…Ciel.” He stood, looking over at the corpse of his brother, still laid atop of that stone slab.
A boy and a beast stood in front of a mirror, staring at the child who stared back at them. The sky, staring at the stars, staring at the sky.
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CONTEXT WARNINGS: O!Ciel’s original name is assumed to be “Sirius” here. | The context of this piece is drenched in a WIP of mine for a longfic in which O!Ciel shares his body as a vessel with Sebastian as opposed to having him serve as a human butler.
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The child in the mirror was not just a reflection of himself, but a phantom image of who he pretended to be, for the Fates had been feeling particularly cruel the day he was put inside the same womb as him.
And yet, just a moment moment ago, when he had caught himself saying “We have much to do tomorrow, so we should go to sleep.”, he meant him, the Earl, and the fiend who lived inside his head — which was foolish since Sebastian did not sleep, but also made him freeze in place because…
Who was we?
When had him grown so accustomed to sharing that mortal shell with the demon who was to one day devour his soul, that “we” was how he referred to himself? And who was this “himself” it had merged with, anyway?
Was it the weak and lonely child who cursed this world and denied God, the one he had chosen to leave behind? Was it the mask of the heir he had chosen to wear since that day? The strong-willed and proud noble who stood tall and didn’t bow to anyone?
…Had Ciel ever been like this mask he had built in his honor at all? — It brought tears to his eyes when he realized he didn’t know the answer to that question. That was the image he held of him, for sure, but both of them had been only ten. Did the boy he pretended to be even existed? And if he didn’t… did he? Did them?
“We shouldn’t worry ourselves with the tiniest things, my lord.” the low and melodic voice inside his head finally made itself known again, pulling him in to the present. A shadow hand emerging from behind the mirror cradled his face, but he knew it was coming from his own body, he could feel it too. “It will bring you no good to dwell on such details. It matters not to me who you were then, only who you are now.”
The boy in the mirror smirked at his brother, his foolish, naïve younger brother, as the shadows embraced him like a father would his own child, and he accepted.
How very strange was it, to feel like he was embracing himself, but also being embraced by another. “You are not the same either, Sebastian.” he declared, reaching for the shadow hand that held him so gently with his own tiny human hand. “You have changed, too.”
“I suppose I have.” He obliged, unable to lie by the bounds of their contract, though the crimson glow that came from the boy’s reflection suggested the demon was not up to the discussion.
He knew why.
He felt the beast’s conflict at the pit of his stomach whenever the boy reminded it that he was its prey. That at the end of their contract, it would have to claim its payment and abandon the name of his dog, that he was nothing but a rabbit being raised by a wolf.
They never again had a full conversation about that truth after he made it swear on bringing him his victory, after the Queen had given him his brother’s title and his family’s duties.
And although the version of Sebastian who looked like a soft-featured, elegant lean and tall butler existed only within their dream and headspace interactions, he sure had begun to sound more and more like Tanaka, and sometimes very much like Vincent.
“Let’s go to bed, young master.” the voice insisted again, this time blocking the vision of the mirror from the boy’s eyes by raising black shadowy smoke in front of the glass, forcing him to break the spell he had lured himself into. “Tomorrow is a busy day, and we can’t have you wasting precious sleeping hours having an existential crisis.”
“Fine.” the Earl rolled his eyes, finally giving in. “But we’re not done with this.” He shooed the shadow hands off his face, demanding one of them help him get up instead. It was comically confusing, as he did not know how exactly that worked, and neither did the demon care to explain it.
As he climbed upon his bed, wrapping his body with the thick blankets and closing his eyes, he heard the rustling of cloth, the blankets hugging him in a more tight manner, and felt a clawed but tender hand caress his gray-blue locks, the voice inside his head lulled him to sleep. “Good night, young master.”
He wanted to protest, to tell Sebastian to cut it out already, but he felt too heavy, too sleepy to do so. His brain felt tired from all the guilt, from all the thinking. So instead, he let Sirius, the boy he had once been, speak.
Letters to Milena – Franz Kafka | Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides – Anne Carson | Unknown Source | blasphemies at the 5th street station – S. Osborn | The Monster You Created – Jinx
If anyone wants a dadbastian&sonboy playlist… here, take mine! It is my inspo playlist for my wip longfic (which I haven’t decided on a good name yet, so that’s what he gets for now).
Edit: I just fucking realized my mistake with the fucking “/“. It’s a dadbastian&sonboy playlist, not /. Anyway.
#project hail mary
#lana del rey
#photography
