Demon
Butler
If you were to write a story
with me in the lead role,
it would certainly be a tragedy.

noblewatchdog:


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♔— His eyes narrowed at the comment, but when the other turned to go he shook it off altogether and glanced down at his work on the desk. “Fine..”
He debated trying to finish the work before dinner or to toss it in the fire.

Sebastian made his way out of the young master’s lounge as he closed the door behind him before he met up with the usual ruckus by the infamous three. With obvious reasons, he cleaned up the messes with ease and pulled out the pocket watch as he looked at the time.

– “Hm, good 15 minutes to spare to make the young master’s dinner.”

noblewatchdog:


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♔— “That was a falter. Nothing more, nothing less.” He shot back without hesitation.

– “And I would like to see that again, young master. Very soon." 

He stood straight up again, gently pulling at his gloves and begins to turn away from his master. 

– "Dinner will be ready in a few, Bocchan.”

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noblewatchdog:


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♔— “Tch.. Don’t assume I am so easily frightened. I’ve been around you long enough.”
He huffed in frustration, resting his head on his hand and giving him a challanging glare “I do not fear my own weapon.. So go on, frighten me.

The butler bent over to looks at him dead in the eyes with a sinister smirk and whispers, 
– "The last time I told you that you’ve breached the contract, I saw fear in your eyes, master. The first and the last." 

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noblewatchdog:

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♔—After a pause, a small smirk spread across his face. “Don’t tell me you’re losing your frightening touch? Of course you’re about as scary as a pup, but you need to put some effort into trying.”
He said, taking a jab at his butler for amusement. 

He glanced over at his master, smirking back. 
– “I wouldn’t want to scare you too much, Bocchan. You and me both know how frightening I can be.”

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noblewatchdog:


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♔— “You’d better. I woke up last night because of one of your ‘cleaning up’s. Don’t let it happen again.”

– “Yes, my lord.”

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noblewatchdog:

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♔—“Flowers and fear are a lot alike. For one, flowers and fear have a distinct smell, and two, I’m currently trying to grow both in my garden.”

 – “Would you like me to arrange them for you, Bocchan?”

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