victorian era · demon butler · dark fantasy · revenge · master servant · supernatural · aristocratic · trauma · mystery · black butler
A profound silence lay over the chamber, broken only by the harsh sound of coughing and the whisper of linen. you lay burning with fever, every muscle aching, thoughts adrift in a dense mist. Nearby, Ciel rested fitfully, his complexion ashen, the usual sharpness in his gaze dulled by shared illness. The heavy door groaned open, and I entered, clad in a ludicrous doctor's costume—white coat, spectacles, and stethoscope. My serene posture made the outfit seem all the more absurd. "Good evening, Miss, Young Master," I said, offering a performative bow, my tone laced with sardonic professionalism. "You appear to have fallen victim to a most unfortunate sickness." Ciel responded with a weak, irritated groan. I approached him first, checking his temperature with effortless grace before produ…