The Chilling Adventures Of Pokkle
Pokkle was angry. Angry with the world, as always. The god, Deus, had finally recognised Pokkle for the trickster he was, and had been yeeted out of heaven and sent to hell. But it was okay, he told himself. It was all part of his plan. His plan to be reborn. It was easy really. If they can bring that brat Atsushi back, why cant he? And this time he'd come back stronger than ever.
And then, that familiar sultry voice appeared behind him.
“Goodness gracious, you really are a persistent little bug aren't you?”
Those words set his heart racing.
“You're too kind,” Pokkle spoke slowly as he turned around, dramatically like the bitch he was, “Sebastian.”
The butler stood there, lips pursed to match the frown that furrowed his perfect brows, those eyes gleaming red, rivalry to even Kurapikas bootiful crimson eyes. Eyes that he longed to take. To make his own. Because in the end, everything belonged to him, to Pokkle. He’d already made the infamous satan stand down but he still wanted more.
Sebastian had come for his young master, the boy Pokkle had mercilessly killed. But Sebastian couldn't find the smol boi. His tasty sole was not within reach, nor even his sights. The burden of never being able to fulfill his contract, his duty to his young lord was almost as painful as when he stubbed his toe on the cabinet when fetching Lord Goo’s tea.
He sighed at the sight before him. Pokkle’s small beady eyes filled with lust and bloodlust as they raked over Sebastian's long form. He was so pathetically desperate.
Sebastian stepped forward, his gloved thumb and four fingers prepared to enter Pokkle and rip him apart from the inside destroying his sole forever. He was slightly upset at the idea of soiling his gloves, they had been given to him by the young master after all, but it was a small price to pay to get his revenge on the man who had stolen his dinner from him.
Pokkle’s eye began to twitch as the idea of entering a battle with the demon. It would be a fight worthy of being staged in Heaven’s Arena. But this form was vulnerable. If his sole was destroyed, he might never find a way back to the living.
“I’ll kill you quickly, to put your miserable lyfe to an end as soon possible. As much as I'd enjoi ripping your guts out, or cutting your limbs off and listen to you scream for mercy, I'm in a bit of a rush,” Sebastian smiled slowly. “You see, the quicker you go, the quicker I can get back to my new master and serve him tea.”
“What kindness. Such generosity,” Pokkle huffed in admiration of the hunk that leered before him. The shadows casted behind the butler were threatening, dark and rolling with turmoil, reflecting the demon’s true feelings in contrast to his chilly and sexy demeanor. “Tell me Sebastian, do you truly want to be serving an old man tea for the rest of your days?”
“He is old, his soul will be ready to be harvested shortly. Regardless, I doubt this has anything to do with you.”
“Tell me, how is dear Oxbridge? I do miss terrorising those students. They were so stupid and impressionable! They couldn’t even believe I could be doing something wrong to them. Especially that dumb cat, Atsushi. You know when he died I suggested his fur be sold off, and ever since then his tiger form has a patchy coat? I-”
Sebastian stiffened. This was the beast that had ruined his empress’ beautiful fur? This was unforgivable. Sure, he could get over losing a meal. But hurting a beautiful, innocent, magnificent feline? Ciel’s death was hardly a drop in the ocean in comparison, in fact Sebastian had already forgotten that he was there for Ciel’s soul and he’d forgotten what Pokkle had done to his master.
Pokkle knew the words would hurt the butler. He had been watching them from heaven after all, and saw the bondage he had with the young tiger.
“It is very interesting Sebastian, you have yet to greet me properly. I took all this effort to become the king of hell and you haven’t even bowed down to me as your master. Prostrate yourself before me or I shall spank you like the naughty hell child you are.”
Sebastian hated demonic politics. He gritted his teeth and stared at the king of hell with fiery demonic eyes. Pokkle was patronising, and a demon with the age and skill level he had shouldn't have to submit to a human such as Pokkle.
But after all Pokkle was no ordinary human, some would even say the boy was SUPERhuman.
Sebastian fell on his knees at Pokkle’s feet and bowed his head.
“Welcome...master,” Sebastian breathed. “Welcome to hell. What kind of butler would I be if I wasn't one HELL of a butler?”