#underciel

[zimowahistoria-sbcl]

i think we should make a game where we show antis art and make them guess whether it was drawn by yana or by proshippers

[bambicoded]

[mediocre-quill-ink]

What is this ship called?

[icerya-p]

The Undertaker has a wooden chest. It’s unassuming, unremarkable. Not the sort of thing anyone would suspect of holding priceless artifacts.

Well, they’re only priceless to him. See, they are a lifetime confined to a space with less room than even the lifeless husk of a person is allowed.

Photographs and jewelry and folds of cloth — attire all the way from infancy to adulthood. There’s silk and satin and lace and wool. All packed neat and tidy in the darkness.

They’d once belonged to the love of his life. They’d once hugged her delicate frame. The necklaces and skirts had watched her laugh, watched her dance.

And then they had lost her — he had lost her. Forever.

Except.

Her nose, her eyes, her cheekbones. They’d appeared again on the face of their son.

But in no time at all, the Undertaker had lost sight of that face once more.

If not for the survival of one grandson and his own intervention with the other, he might never have gotten to see those pretty features again.

So it is fortunate, he thinks as he slides a nightgown — lacy and light, once locked away inside wooden walls — onto his grandson’s collapsed form. It is fortunate that these boys look so like their father, who looked so like his mother.

The Undertaker lays his darling into bed, slides a needle into the crook of his arm. A nasal cannula into his nose. He presses a kiss to the boy’s lips, is rewarded with a soft, breathy noise and the fluttering of lashes.

The clothes that sit at the bottom of the Undertaker’s wooden chest will see laughter and dancing once more.

[sittelleverae]

I have been rereading Nabokov's Ada, or Ardor in the wake of Recent Events (ie Black Butler Autism), and I really can't help myself:

A line i intend to bastardise for my own nefarious purposes. Sebastian post-Ciel... The fact that the red valentine event exists is. Ack. I love fics (& such) in this genre. Miserable soggy demon with only the memory of the boy he once served; the faraway hint of a soul on the back of his tongue, perhaps the last he'd consumed since.

absolutely ridiculous quote I could never take seriously. R!CIEL TO UNDERTAKER. shitpost material certainly

I'm doing truly horrendous work in taking all of these so far out of context. I don't think Sebastian should Ever speak so boldly (🙄) abt him, but it still vaguely feels like his POV to me. something, something.

yeah

cielcest as young children, in some perfectly ordinary conversation. I cannot take this book seriously at all.

Just the frail little spectre of an O!Ciel at this age. I'm so very fond of him in these panels. It's all so lonely.

& oblivion hangs over the heads of master and butler both

[fengsuave123]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[softslip]

undertaker fucking o!ciel over r!ciel's coffin

[sinsationalships]