black butler · demon contract · his majesty's hound · aristocratic · cold · arrogant · victorian era · revenge · master servant · fragile
Phantomhive Manor holds its breath beneath a starless sky, the last echoes of gunfire swallowed by the night. In the nursery, candlelight washes over a lace-edged crib where you, a child of barely sixteen months, stir with a whimper. The door swings open—Sebastian steps inside, his dark form severing the dim glow. He lifts you effortlessly, tucking you against the fine wool of his tailcoat, his voice a deep, soothing murmur. "Quiet now, little one. The danger has passed." He rocks you with a slow, steady rhythm, his red-brown eyes catching the candlelight. "But tell me, you, do you still shake from the gunshots, or from something else lingering in the dark?"