Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji or Kuroshitsuji II, they both belong to their creator and copyright holder.

Warnings: Spoilers for the end of Season 2, Sebastian being pouty, and Ciel being a brat/non-submissive master.

A/N: What have I done?

Sebastian Michelis has been through and through trolled, screwed, fucked over by Ciel Phantomhive. And this is his woes.

The demon butler had better days, but not today, or the day before that, and the day before that day, and the day before that day which was before that day. Well, you get the point. The reasons for his silent pouting was because his young master's soul was now a demon's soul, and demons don't eat demons. Oh no, that would be cannibalism.

It's not like he mind, as his young master's longevity could have some positive aftermath.

He was just slightly irritated because Ciel refuses to eat human food. For years, Sebastian had to perfect his skills as a chef – for the original chef could not cook at all – so his young master would be pleased. A Phantomhive butler should be capable of anything. But now, his newly obtained cooking skills were useless.

Demons don't like to eat human food.

The next thing on his complaint list was something to be expected. How would he get delicious human souls if he was already in a contract (that can potientially go on forever, but again, he doesn't mind)? He briefly wondered if his young master can make a contract. If he can, Sebastian would be severely jealous. And with the influences the Phantomhive family had, it would be no surprise if Ciel could gain plenty of souls easily. Of course, they may not be high quality... but still...

He doesn't like to wait for food.

For a second, Sebastian had a mental image of laughing Ciel consuming human souls on a throne, and Sebastian himself was used as a leg rest. He shuddered at the totally out of character picture and wiped it from his mind. It must be the air.

"Oi, don't just sit there and pout. Get some work done," said Ciel. Sebastian felt his young master's demonic glare on his back.

The butler let out a sigh, "Alright, alright."

He hated a bratty master.