#yes grell angelina is all yours

[razbrry]

Grell with a vampire SO?

note 💋— grrrrrr!!!!! i love this prompt. D1 vamp lover over here. -> this is me trying to not go off the rails and make it a smut. my greatest apologies!

when you’re a vampire— ft. grell sutcliff

apart from this whole honor she has by the ripping grim reaper activities…

you’re her biggest flex!

way to keep the secrecy, grell. greatly appreciated.

she’ll be fawning over you.

grell would push her hair back to leave her neck bare for you to behold, purposefully tilting her head.

she’s soooooo obvious.

but so tempting!

you of course don’t want to hurt her, but that should honestly be the least of your concerns.

have you SEEN grell? she’s freaky.

“ou, and the sun today was so…! dazzling and sunny! oh, right, you’re more of a darkness connoisseur, aren’t you?”

oh, shut up grell. we haven’t seen you in daylight since the stone age.

(stone age=butler duties for angelina)

she teases you about your gargoyle-like tendencies as if she goes out every day out of pure productivity. YOU’RE NOT CUTE.

(that’s the fattest lie ever, shes the cutest.)

more on your nutrition,

both of your supernatural roles fit in surprisingly well!

she’ll lead you around discreetly while she’s over here absolutely ripping.

it *is* a regulation to not tamper with a corpse.

bit you’re not a grim reaper, are you?

free dinner!!!

grell feeds you well. <3

and the whole ‘being invited in’ phenomenon? she’s got you covered.

grell would try to coax the host/property owner to verbally let you in by the most over the top monologue.

“oh?! and you’re going to just let us waltz right in by ourselves like we’re some ordinary mortals?”

the host is all like ‘are you… not?’

one of you has fangs and drips of dark and broody… and the other has sharpened teeth bearing a chainsaw.

we are NOT the same.

so yes, entering royal estates is a royal pain with grell.

ciel is sick of you two.

you and grell are a match made in hell :3 she feels like she’s living a rom-com fantasy with you!

‘ooh, a VAMPIRE, how sexy☆!!’

oh, i can totally hear her say that.

[grelleswife]

Do you think if Grelle was in a relationship with Mey Rin down the line after she killed Angelina it might come up, like ptsd and because Mey Rin is human too? :(

Hi, anon! My headcanon is that Grelle bitterly regrets murdering Angelina—it was a crime of passion spurred on by a profound sense of betrayal, and, in hindsight, the goddess wishes she hadn’t succumbed to her blind impulses. She sure as hell won’t those repeat those mistakes with Mey Rin. Grelle’s not the type to reform into a complete saint, but she puts in the work to gain better control of her temper and is staunchly overprotective of the maid. Due to her toils as a reaper and her past homicidal exploits, she’s keenly aware of the ephemeral nature of human life, and can’t bear the thought of her dearest Mey Mey being snatched away prematurely. Since Mey Rin’s dangerous line of work is a source of constant worry to her, Grelle often calls in favors at the office so that she’s assigned to soul collection during attacks on the Phantomhive manor, ensuring that she’s close at hand to defend her lady. Although Mey’s obviously capable of fending off would-be assailants, she’s deeply touched by Grelle’s efforts.

The goddess slides into full-blown panic mode whenever Mey Rin is injured, regardless of how minor her wounds might be. What if the blood loss was too great, or her poor love gets an infection, or something equally catastrophic?! She’ll tirelessly devote herself to nursing the maid back to health, doting on her with infinite tenderness. “You make me feel like a princess, yes you do,” Mey shyly whispers.

“That’s because you are, mon ange,” Grelle replies, kissing her on the forehead. “And as your loyal knight, it’s my duty to look after you, non?”

I expanded upon this in further detail in a previous ask here, but the subject of Mey Rin’s impending demise, though painful, is one to which both women reconcile themselves. They get married (or at the very least settle down together) and focus on living in the moment, treating each day as a priceless gift that must never be taken for granted. Miss Sutcliff can’t fend off death’s cold grasp forever, but, rather than bewailing the inevitable, she’s determined to lavish all the love her heart can carry onto Mey Rin, and give her wife years overflowing with joy.

[the-letter-horror-lover]

Forever And Always by gamefreakwritesfanfics

Anime » Kuroshitsuji Rated: K+, English, Romance & Hurt/Comfort, [Madam Red, Grell S.], Words: 2k+, Published: Oct 23

"I know you hate it, but…I really love your hair."

Angelina Durless glanced up at herself in the mirror while her butler began to tread her fingers through her hair. But is that all I should think of her as? When she's so much more than merely my butler? Despite herself, she could not help but smile when Grelle smiled at her in the mirror. It had been a long day. It had been a painfully long day. Too much work. Too early of a morning. And, worse than that, it had been an exhausting day. Her gaze fell down to her hands. How long has it been since I - we - last killed one of those whores? She began to fidget with her rings. Has it really been ten years already since he died? Since I last wore my wedding ring? She closed her eyes, struggling to control the thoughts chasing her and leaving her senseless. She swallowed hard. Is this all I will ever be? A doctor who murders her ungrateful patients? Barely aware of it, she could feel her body beginning to tense. Then, it suddenly stopped. Two gentle but firm hands held onto her shoulders. She opened her eyes. In the mirror, again, Grelle was watching her, looking more and more concerned. Startled, she let go of Angelina, her own mind beginning to quickly wander, with increasing incoherence.

"Why?" Angelina finally said, turning around to face the reaper. "Why did you take pity on me, and, by your own admission, break every code of conduct in your profession?"

Grelle hesitated before shaking her head.

"You and I are much alike. The first thing I can think of is that neither of us can have children despite so desperately wanting to."

"Yes, I suppose that is rather important and upsetting to us both," Angelina stared up at her. "It's just the two of us," She said quietly. "You don't have to pretend you look like that."

Grelle raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you're alright? You usually are quite insistent on keeping up the -"

"Hush," Angelina reached over to take Grelle's hands in her own. "You and I both know that no one will be around for the next day and a half. I…"

"Will it make you feel better if I," Grelle winked. "'Drop the act,' as you might say."

"Yes," Her voice caught a little in her throat. "Yes," She repeated, regaining herself. "I should hope I know you well by now, Grelle. I'm well aware of how unhappy you can be pretending like this. Do you honestly believe I want to watch you suffer?"

Grelle eyed her closely. A few seconds passed between them in utter silence, with only the buzzing of street lamps just outside the barely open window permeating the silence. Not wanting to let go of her hands, Grelle lightly tugged only one of her own free. She ran her free hand through her hair, and the wig unceremoniously dropped to the floor. It was only a matter of seconds before her clothes and her glasses shifted, too, becoming the red she so very much adored. Angelina smiled a little. Red. It's a colour that suits few well, yet is so effortlessly beautiful on her. Her hands tightened around the one Grelle had not pulled away. I wonder…what do the lines on her hands have to tell? Does the practice of palmistry extend to reapers? Or is it one only suited for humans? She was barely aware of how intently she was staring at her hands as they held onto the one Grelle had allowed her to cling to. Then, startling her for only a mere moment, Grelle rested her other hand over Angelina's and her own other. The two women's gazes met. The widowed baroness. The reaper. Neither one of them seemed willing to let go of the other. Neither one of them seemed unafraid of what was out there, beyond the slightly ajar window.

"If what's out there is like what's in here," Angelina glanced warily at the window upon a few branches scratching violently against it. "Perhaps I ought to make myself disappear."

Almost too quickly to make a difference, Grelle let go of her just long enough to shut and lock the window. She was back at Angelina's side almos faster than anyone could blink.

"Are you afraid?" Grelle began to release the jewellery from around Angelina's neck and ears. "To see what the world could become, should we make a mistake?"

"Of course I am," Angelina said. "Can you even imagine what might happen to me? Or to us?"

"Unfortunately, I can," Grelle said, letting the necklaces fall loosely into one hand. "Your life would be over, and society would come crashing down around you."

"Precisely," Angelina bowed her head as Grelle began to unclasp her earrings. "I would…everything good I have done in my life would be overshadowed with the blood I have shed."

"Do you feel any regrets?" Grelle said, her fingers lingering around Angelina's ears. "About what we have done? What you seem to desire we continue to do?"

"Perhaps a little," Angelina quietly admitted. "But I have no idea what else to do. Every time I have to…I can see and feel nothing but my own loss."

Being able to have been a mother had meant everything to her…and she andI have become one in the same as we cannot have that one wish fulfilled.

"There is only one other option," Angelina paused before shaking her head. "But it is too obvious. It would be impossible to execute, or explain."

Grelle raised an eyebrow. "To what are you referring?" She said, finally pulling out and setting aside Angelina's earrings.

"If I were to let one of them live," She began, her voice wavering. "I could let them grow the baby, give birth to them, and, then, take the baby as mine. And kill the mother who had wanted to never be born."

"What would be so impossible about that?" Grelle watched her closely through the mirror. "It sounds to be almost the perfect way to enact vengeance. A longer game for us, of course, but still…"

We would be able to have a baby. Maybe a little girl we could hold the hands of through life, or a little boy we could even introduce to her nephew as something of a boy to mentor. Not that Ciel Phantomhive has ever been particularly affable to anyone.

"But how would we explain where we -" Angelina's voice caught in her throat again. "Explain where I came into the guardianship of a baby?"

Grelle considered that. "Well, I suppose -"

"All of high society knows I am incapable of having a child of my own," Angelina quickly blinked back tears, but her voice finally betrayed her completely. "I have been ridiculed for it. I have been accused of causing my own accident," Her speech quickened almost incoherently. "I have faced nothing but mockery by some for not being 'careful' enough while with child. I have been told that I ought not have ever left my home until the baby was born, or -"

"Ann," Grelle gently rested her hands on the baroness' shoulders. "It is of no fault of your own what happened to you. It never was, and it never will be."

She turned around to face the reaper once more, again taking her hands in Grelle's.

"They would find a way to demonise me if I ever have a child of my own," She whispered. "It would all come undone. I would never be able to be a mother, no matter how desperately I want to be so."

The two women stared at each other in silence. To the surprise of the baroness, the reaper knelt down just a little so that she could hold her face in her, for once, ungloved hands. Hands that were so soft despite how every day, side by side, she used her chainsaw, and the baroness used her knives. It was almost impossible, a constant refrain, it seemed, in the back of her mind. The baroness did all she could to shake the thought aside. It plagued her nightmares, too, and those were becoming more and more difficult to shake. Among the most cruel were the ones where it appeared her life had become the one she had always wanted. Always, she walked through what felt to be a lifetime of happiness, with her late husband, their late child, and more children with him she had always wanted. Always, something would shatter the happiness away into a nightmare. A fire. A storm. Anything, really, could happen in those dreams, with the cruelty of it worsening every night she had one. Barely aware, she was shaking so painfully again. The world was spinning. It was more than nightmares, but fear. Fear of what would happen should she be caught. Fear of the lack of understanding by the world. Fear of being -

"I wish there were more I could do," Grelle's voice softly cut into the rushing thoughts of the baroness. "If it were possible to do exactly what you have just laid out, I would help you execute it flawlessly."

Execute.

Execute.

Exe -

"Ann?" Grelle suddenly pressed one hand against Angelina's chest to calm her down, startled by how quickly the baroness' heart was racing. "Ann, are you alright?"

"They'll execute me," The baroness weakly whimpered. This is not like me. What is wrong with me? Her hands tightened around Grelle. "If I am ever caught - if we are ever caught - I'll be put on trial. I'll be judged not only by the high society, or the courts, but by my nephew. Ciel will judge me terribly."

"Does it truly matter what he thinks of you?" Grelle could not hide the pricks of betrayal in her voice. "I thought -"

"He is all I have left of my sister," Angelina suddenly snapped. "How can I possibly not be concerned by the potential for judgement by him?"

Grelle let go of her, both startled and hurt.

"I'm sorry," Angelina eventually said. "But, Grelle, I cannot fathom a loss like that. He is the closest thing to being my sister, and the closest thing to being my son."

"Would you be able to kill him, then?" Grelle asked, curiosity taking over her. "If you had no other choice to ensure that you would be able to be safe, and carry out your life as you've determined?"

Angelina hesitated, feeling dizzy. She closed her eyes, once again blinking back tears.

"Should I take that as a no?" Grelle stood up, somewhat uncomfortably beginning to pace. "Do you -"

"I could never harm him," She spoke softly, standing up herself. "You don't…you don't think he would hand me off to be executed…would he?"

"From the little I've seen of him, the brat," She paused when Angelina flinched. "He probably wouldn't take it well, to say the very least."

"Perhaps…" Angelina's hands tightened on the dressing table behind her, and she stared down at her feet, Her slightly overgrown bangs fell over her eyes. "Perhaps we could test the waters. Take a look at…how things are there. How not only he is doing, but what his thoughts on the matter are."

Grelle eyed her closely, leaning back against the wall. The reaper and the baroness, perfectly across from each other. When their eyes finally met again, Angelina managed a small smile while Grelle adjusted her glasses.

"How would you propose we do that?" Grelle said, meeting Angelina's smile with one of her own. "You seem to be thinking quite intently on it, now. Don't leave me wondering, Ann. You and I both know how I loathe not being in the proverbial loop."

"You may not like it, Grelle," The baroness coyly warned her. "As it would involve you…extending our facade a great deal further."

The reaper laughed. "Which facade in particular? That I'm a man? That I'm merely your butler? That I'm nothing but an acquaintance to you?"

"Never the latter," Angelina said, slowly stepping towards her, extending a hand. "The first two, however? I unfortunately have to ask that of you."

Grelle reached out and took her hand. "Do you think we should? Do you think it will help?"

"It will help…at least give me some sort of sign," She reached out to take Grelle's other hand in her own. "I need to know. I just need to know."

Grelle squeezed her hands as reassuring as she could.

"Would you…" Angelina's voice broke despite herself. "Would you be angry with me if it came down to me having to kill Ciel?"

"Maybe," Grelle confessed. "But not necessarily with you."

Angelina stared at her for a moment, her hands beginning to shake again.

"I would be angry because I wouldn't know what to do," Grelle continued. "And we both know that I act rashly when I haven't got a clue what I am to do."

"Yes, I know," Angelina sighed. "Grelle," She whispered. "Whatever happens, do not let them execute me. I cannot die that way. I cannot have my legacy be solely in my vigilantism."

"And how do you want me to do that?" The reaper pressed. "Ann?"

"If you have to…" Angelina lightly pressed her forehead against Grelle's. "Kill me. If there becomes no other choice…please be the one to kill me. It…it won't hurt if you do it, won't it?"

"Of course it wouldn't," Grelle paused when the baroness tightly embraced her. "Ann -"

"And you're certain?" She said, barely able to get the words out. "You're certain it won't hurt?"

"I'm certain," Grelle promised, her voice soft. I'm only like this with her. It's strange. But wonderful. "It also…would be an honour to be the one to see your cinematic record."

Angelina nodded. "I feel I've already experienced death," She said, all but falling into Grelle, who carried her to the bed they so secretly shared. "The accident. That night, I…I could have sworn I died. Then, to find that I had not, but instead had lost my husband, and my child…it felt like death, not even including the pain it left me in - physical and otherwise."

"You would feel no pain, Ann," Grelle fell silent again when Angelina curled into her. "I would never put you in pain. You do know that, don't you?"

Angelina sighed. "I'm sorry, Grelle. I shouldn't…"

"It's a reasonable question," She said, her fingers loosely treading through Angelina's hair. "But you know I never lie to you, never would, and never will."

"Good," Angelina shifted slightly to kiss her. "Even if you have to kill me one day, Grelle, I will always love you. You…you have taught me how to love again after all that has happened, after all that I have done. And I fear I haven't said that enough."

"You don't have to," Grelle replied, pulling off and setting aside her glasses. She laughed while her vision began to adjust into its natural, terrible state. "Ann?"

Angelina reached up to cup her lover's cheek. "Yes?" She murmured.

"I've already said it tonight, but I'll say it again," Grelle let her lips linger against Angelina's when the baroness kissed her again. "I really do love your hair. And I'm only reminded of it when it's one of the few things I can clearly see. The colour of it is…it's distinctive. And I find it to be absolutely gorgeous. Truthfully, Ann? You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known…and I…I love you."

She smiled. "Forever?"

Grelle nodded. "And always," She affirmed, sealing it with a kiss.

[blackbutlerbitch23]

��Now that I have some followers who cannot escape my feed and are forced to listen to me, I will rank my top 5 ships from Black Bulter from Worst to Best and explain why I placed them there. BTW my opinion is 100% correct, AND no, I do not take criticism. Buckle up your seat belts because this will be a long ride, and no, we're not gonna stop; you should have gone to the bathroom before we left. Now sit back, relax and HAVE FUN, EVERYONE!!!! 💖

5. Vincent & Madam Red

Aesthetically this couple is fantastic. Betrayal, drama, jealousy, and forbidden love. There's a reason why blue and red are often paired together. PRIME COLOURS, BABY. That's what the kids call colour theory 😎. ANWAY, this is the Angelica Schuyler (work, work) and Alexander Hamilton (lol, you defiantly threw away your shot) ship of the Black Butler community. Even the name Angelina looks and sounds similar to Angelica. They are a bisexual dream of "may I have a side of step on me" 👞👡. They would have been that couple. Yet, I gotta rate them at number five because even though they would be slaying it together (literally and figuratively *very clever jack the ripper and watchdog joke*🔪), it does reduce the intelligent and independent Madam Red into an "uwu notice me sempai" girl. She gets turned from girl boss (affectionate) into girl boss (unaffectionate). Like GURL, I know he is bad, but you are a Miranda in a world full of Nates. The Devil wears Prada because he has taste👠. He's not worth trying to stab an eye-patched child over.

7/10 - if I was Angelina, I would have poured red wine over Rachel's wedding dress because I'm petty like that👰🍷.

4. Mey-Rin & Ronald Knox

I KNOW WHAT YOU ALL ARE THINKING🧠. That's right, I'm telepathic AF. Call me Anya 2.0. "Didn't they only interact once?" Yes, and your point? I could sense the chemistry and potential oozing like a warhead from that singular interaction. When Mey-Rin said that was the first time she ever got hit on, I was shocked and appalled because that girl is a hot warrior queen 👑like some Victorian Hippolyta. If I was shot by Mey-Rin, I would thank her because that meant she noticed little ol' me. Ronald (lol nerd) may *technically* be a dead sociopathic playboy, but underneath all that, he is also a clumsy idiot with some pretty snazzy fighting skills like a certain maid ;)). They both rock the sexy geeky🤓 look, AND Mey-Rin deserves to be swept away by a man who understands the struggle of trying to impress your superior (and failing horribly) while cleaning out blood stains🩸. They are number four because I vaguely get some The Mister by E.L James vibes, which makes me break out in a cold sweat 😷🤢if I think about it for too long. Plus, they did only interact once. God, imagine having Grell as a mother-in-law.

7.5/10 - Call me captain because Imma go down with the ship like the Campania that brought these virgins together⚓.

3. Ciel & Sieglinde

Bubala, I want to get this out of the way before we proceed. I'm no Humbert Humbert. Miss me with that ❌Lolita❌ shit (although it's a fantastic book, shout out to my lad Nabokov). When I ship kids, it's in an "it would be cute in the future" way. I don't expect a thirteen-year-old and ten-year-old actually to date. Kapeesh? Anyway, this is also not a reflection of Elizabeth as a character. We can all agree that their relationship was doomed the minute Lizzy discovered that OCiel wasn't RCiel and proceeded to have one of the worst reactions possible™. She tried to kill Sebastian, ran away from home, and let a TEENAGER get arrested because she got Parent Trapped. Girl, you even knew he was innocent but go off sis🙄💅. You know, ✨everyday rich girl things✨. Sieglinde, our little green witch, adores Ciel for who is truly is, not the broken-down actor carrying around his brother's ghost. Our scientist saw OCeil at his lowest point and still came to respect him. She also was tricked by him but didn't try to get him arrested, so...🙄💅. I'm more of an On the grind 💪 appreciator than a girl boss, manipulate gaslight type. Gotta love a spider leg, girl.

Unlike Elizabeth, who has dealt with tragedy from a distance (and don't get me wrong, she hasn't had an easy ride. It's just more psychological/self-inflicted), Ciel and Sieglinde, these two pipsqueaks have been through hell and back but came out stronger. In short, they can relate to each other's pain more than others their age. Plus, she's super adorable and a genius who can keep up (and outsmart) Ciel and is unafraid to be herself. They might not win in a leg race, but they will destroy you on a chessboard♟️. The best girl in town deserves the worst boy in London 😈.

8/10- Don't witches 🧙‍♀️ love the devil or whatever? Hocus Pocus girl and contract boy can fangirl over the same demon together. Fandom goals

2. Diedrich & Vincent

Ah, Hello again, Vincent. You have shown up on this list more than the actual Manga. Anyway, WHEN I SAW THE PANEL, THE ONE WITH "THE DAYS SPENT WITH YOU ARE BURNED INTO A MEMORY," I WANTED TO CRY. OMFG. I LOVE IT SO MUCH 😭😭😭😭💖💖💖💖. They look so sweet together there🥺. I'm a bitch for dark English academia shit because I am basic AF. Like, don't come at me. I know dark academia has a somewhat problematic history, but Imma keep shoving it down my throat like how Diedrich shoves down those sandwiches😏. The relationship between Vincent and Diedrich is so angsty that I need some rain boots because it's pouring tears out here. Even years after Vincent dies, Diedrich remains loyal to him and tries to save his child (in his "I hate you but I serectly love you" way).

Now I can hear you exclaim, "well, Vincent basically enslaved German boy as his brother-servent thing," but let me tell you, if he wanted out, he could have just stayed in Germany, but that Guten Tag man kept visiting that fine British ass until the day that fine Britsh ass was burnt to a crisp. Vincent was hot until the day he died🔥. Diedrich even keeps a picture of their time together and thinks of it fondly, despite Vicent treating him like a lapdog. THIS MAN DIDN'T EVEN GET MARRIED!!!! WAS IT BECAUSE HE WAS TOO BUSY WITH VINCENT🤔🤔🤔???? Probably not, but for my sake, I will say yes. If Lana Del Ray's music was a couple, it would be this one. They are at number two because as much I love them, there is one ship I adore a bit more. Plus, Vincent has so many side pieces that I don't trust him to stay in a monogamous relationship.

8.5/10 - I wish I knew WHY Vincent chose Rachel over these icons. Like girl, we have no beef, but I need to understand how you collared Vincent🐕‍🦺.

1. Sebastian & Agni

HAHAHA, YOU MUST OF ALL KNOWN MY (DE)MAN WOULD HAVE TO BE A PART OF MY NUMBER ONE PAIR!!!! Oooooh, the scene where Sebastian said that Agni was the first person to ever call him a friend👌👌👌. Sebastian's first friend. Think about that. The AMOUNT OF ADMIRATION they had for one another. This is Sebastian "lol, humans are bugs I like to burn with my magnifying glass" Michaelis, who respects nothing but himself (and cats). Yet, he believed Agni to be an "exemplary butler" who lived up to his ~asethics~ and Agni, the literal right hand of Kali, reached out (no pun instead) to a DEMON and saw something worth appreciating. 

Sebastian even listened to his advice over Ciel's. His master and meal ticket. The guy he signed the bloody contract with. That's like if your lawyer turned to the opposition and said, "they make a fair point, and I agree my client is in the wrong." Like WHAT???? Seb values Agni's advice. A human. In Yana's own words, a species he views as nothing more than a cluster of pests. At best, they're amusing, like how a kid keeps an ant farm. Yet, Agni is different. Here the grasshopper has become the master🙇.

Their potential stepdad AUs were just up my ally. FOUND FAMILY ADMIRES UNITE! But I gotta admit, as much I love Soma, I would give him up for adoption if he was my kid. I can't deal with that level of extra. At the very least, he would go to theatre camp for the entire summer and boarding school, as is tradition for most rich British families. See, I'm not totally heartless😘! Talking about heartlessness, don't even get me started on Agni's death scene because I will ugly cry. When Sebastian dirtied himself with Agni's blood, even tho we all know that prissy bitch is more protective over his clothes than a runway model😔✊. That was the most upset we had ever seen him (outside of almost losing his son Ciel), and he seemed at least happy Agni died in peace. I doubt Sebastian can genuinely mourn, but now at least, he has double reason to hate Undertaker. 

In Conclusion, I just think they are neat.

9.5/10- YASS KING, WHISPER YOUR DEMON SHIT WHILE HE PRAYS TO KALI!!! However, I can't give this a perfect score because one half is dead, and I do not support necrophilia💀. I hope we get Ciel and Sebastian explaining to Soma that they did not kill his daddy and, in fact, were planning a family vacay🏖️. I swear to god, if they have Soma work with RCiel, Imma flip my lid like a fucking kettle. Overall, they would have been couple goals💏.

[sleepingdeath-light]

Relationship headcanons for madame red and/or Grell x reader.

Relationship Headcanons | Grelle & Madam Red

thank you for requesting, anon!

reader is assumed as gender neutral

recently rewritten and updated — see here

Grelle Sutciffe

grelle is a shamelessly affectionate and doting partner

in public and in private she’ll be all over you, flirting, teasing, touching - you name it

she values a partner who can keep up with her high energy and her dramatic nature, but also someone that takes the time to understand and respect her

she was the first to say “i love you” but you were the one to ask her out

yes, she flirted openly with you but she wasn’t confident enough to ask you outright or approach you without the dramatic act of hers

your first date was definitely to some type of outdoor area at night, like an almost empty park or somewhere that gave you a beautiful view of london

grelle took you there and pointed out each of her favourite places, giving short anecdotes about different locations where she could

the first time you said you loved her, she teared up slightly and went slightly red in the face before brushing it off with a cocky “i know” and kissing you on the nose

your first kiss was an accident, grelle was going to kiss your cheek when you moved to talk and, well...

at least it was enjoyable for you both?

she frequently skips work to spend time with you

her love language is definitely words of affirmation and she’ll go out of her way to reassure and compliment you in many different ways

of course there are the typical “i love you”s and compliments about your appearance

but also smaller things

how nice your shirt is

how good that dress makes you look

how stunning your eyes are

reminders that you’re one of the strongest and sweetest people she’s met

amongst many, many more

every day seems to start and end with an “i love you” with a half dozen relevant reassurances throughout

brags about you to anyone who will listen - be they colleague, assignment or otherwise

“my s/o is simply amazing, you know...”

“did i tell you what s/o did for me today?”

“look at how gorgeous s/o is!”

it gets old fast, but she’s always eager to flaunt how incredible you are to her no matter how mundane what you’re doing is

bake a decent cake for her? it’s the best cake to ever exist, nobody can do better!

braid her hair? she’s going to wear it to work because it looks so good!

draw something? draw her next! she loves your style.

she’s an incredibly active sleeper and the moment you start sleeping together you are going to notice

like you go to sleep holding hands and you’ll wake up tangled up with her - you didn’t move but she certainly did

sometimes she even falls out of bed - but it doesn’t bother her, so oh well?

you’ll probably wake up before her on most days as she values her “beauty sleep” and is incredibly difficult to wake up

but on sundays she tries to make sure that she wakes up early to make you breakfast in bed

granted she doesn’t always wake up as planned and her cooking isn’t the best, but she does what she can and you’ll appreciate it all the same (hopefully)

her favourite places to kiss you are on your lips, your nose and your jaw - with the frequency and fervour of each kiss depending on her mood

she’s incredibly dramatic and stubborn, which can lead to arguments - but you’ll usually have to either apologise or de-escalate the situation yourself as she can get rather... passionate... when arguing

and loud

in terms of gifts, anything in the realms of flowers, clothing or perfumes are always safe - and a handwritten letter doesn’t hurt either

grelle can be incredibly possessive over you and will start acting huffy or clingy when she feels you’re giving someone else too much attention

but, overall, she’s an incredibly affectionate and protective partner.

Madam Red

angelina is the type of partner that prefers to keep pda to a minimum

privately, she’s incredibly attentive and affectionate (she knows you and your needs/wants like the back of her hand)

but publicly she sticks to the occasional hand on the small of your back or holding your arm (or vice versa) - she has a reputation to uphold, after all

she values humour and honesty in her partner and herself, so as long as you’re honest with her and are able to crack a few jokes she’ll be more than content and will offer the same

prefers to kiss your cheeks and lips outside of intimacy and will kiss your bare shoulders/collarbones in the early mornings or evenings when you’re dressing

is very guarded early in the relationship and will only completely open up once she’s absolutely certain she can trust you

was the one to ask you out and the first to say “i love you”

the first time you reciprocated, she smiled and kissed you before you continued on your way

your first kiss was intentional and likely initiated by you. anne was talking about her work incredibly passionately whilst you were sitting in the garden, so you just leaned over and kissed her

she was incredibly flustered by it, but returned the favour a few minutes later

your first date was probably just going for a stroll through her garden, intermittently stopping to have a drink and something to eat before continuing on again

you likely stayed overnight and, in the early evening, stayed out just long enough to watch the sunset together before going back inside

love language is definitely touch; she’ll always be touching you in some way when you’re together

a hand on your arm whilst you’re talking to a client

resting her head on your shoulder whilst you’re sitting together in the garden

a hand on your thigh whilst you’re lounging in the bedroom

pecking your cheek every time she sees you

things like that

encourages you to pursue your passions and will shoo away anyone who says otherwise

doesn’t necessarily brag about you, but will speak fondly of you when given the opportunity

“well, actually, s/o and I visited that gallery the other day...”

has a number of random anecdotes that she shares with her family and peers

can’t help but smile when she says your name and she gets a soft, warm look in her eyes

(ciel finds it sweet but doesn’t bring it up)

she’s a peaceful and light sleeper

she prefers to sleep in such a way that she’s half on top of you, your legs almost linked together with your arms around each other and her head on your chest

it’s the most comfortable to her - but it makes things a tad difficult when she needs to wake up early the next morning and prepare for work

she always wakes up before you, but stays in bed for a while, watching you and admiring how peaceful you are

the mornings are where she feels the luckiest to have you, when she places a soft kiss to your cheek before untangling from you and writing a brief note to leave on the pillow beside you

breakfast in bed is a given on the weekend, where the staff prepare the meals you asked for the night before and you stay in your room for a few more hours than usual

most of your dates are spent wandering through the garden, dancing aimlessly in your home or just visiting various sites across the country and beyond when granted the free time

doesn’t get jealous, per say, but she will make a point to interrupt conversations when she sees a sign that the other person is crossing a line or that you’re uncomfortable by addressing you intimately and leading you away

“oh there you are my love, my dear nephew is waiting for us...”

she prefers handmade or sentimental gifts

expensive jewellery and tailored clothing she can buy herself, but the thought and effort behind personal gifts and messages just makes her melt

a hand carved sculpture

a personalised painting

a letter you wrote with her in mind

anything of that sort is better than what money can buy for anne

when it comes to arguments, they happen very rarely as she prefers to work out disagreements logically and calmly

but when they do occur, she keeps a calm, levelheaded demeanour and refuses to raise her voice - only getting noticeably agitated when you try to escalate things or insist on avoiding a rational discussion

overall, she’s an incredibly calm and attentive lover that knows you better than you know yourself

[unbe--weave--able]

The Dress and the Date

Sapphic Sutcliff Week: 

Wednesday - Dresses/Makeup

Pairing: Mey Rin/Grelle Sutcliff

On Ao3

Green eyes peered over the rack of dresses, staring at the unsuspecting red-haired girl at the tills. From beside her, her companion, her best friend Angelina, sighed and rolled her eyes. This was the third day this week that they’d come into the shop. And all so that Grelle could oogle at the new employee.

“Y’know...you could just go and talk to her. That’s an option.” An pointed out acerbically, pulling out her phone and opening up google; it looked like they were going to be in here for the long haul. Again. Honestly, Grelle was entirely hopeless. The other red-haired girl fell in love every other day with anyone and everyone who caught her fancy; though this one didn’t seem to be going away soon. And to be quite honest An wasn’t much certain that that was better. At least she could deal with flash in the pan romances. She didn’t want another Will situation on her hands, or a Sebastian; not when she was already dealing with her own longtime crush on her sister’s boyfriend Vincent.

Grelle gave her a surly look and elbowed her in the back of the head.

“And say what exactly? Hello, I’m Grelle Sutcliff, I sit behind you in science and have been since we were little but I’ve only just noticed how pretty you are and a lot of it has to do with me watching you shoot in PE the other day? That makes me sound silly and shallow...” She complained. “No. This is far better. I get to watch her being sweet and flustered without her entirely hating my guts.”

Angelina fought the urge to point out that Grelle had absolutely no way of knowing that this Mey Rin would hate her guts but she knew better than to say anything, she’d only get a dramatic monologue if she did. But at the same time, if Grelle didn’t get a shift on then she was certain that that younger guy...Will’s brother; Ronald? Was going to make a move on her. He’d been hanging around here almost as much as Grelle had, staring at the bespectacled cashier with as much longing as Grelle was.

It was all slightly ridiculous really. This was the second week of Grelle’s infatuation with the other girl and honestly, An had to admit to not seeing it. Though she was reliably informed that had she been there to witness the marvel that had been Mey Rin shooting targets then she would understand. According to Grelle it had been the hottest sight since that one time she’d gotten a glimpse of Sebastian coming out of the shower in all of his pale, skinny glory.

“Right...well...why don’t you...er...buy something?” The red-eyed girl suggested. “Buy something and go up to her till and start a conversation or something, you’re usually good at that sort of thing. Then, when she’s engaged, just ask her out. Otherwise I’m telling Will’s kid brother that he can go for her if he likes.”

It was almost awful of her to be threatening her best friend like this, but in her defense, the floor in the shopping centre was hardly designed to be sat on for long periods of time and they’d been here nearly an hour and a half now. Which was not what she’d been expecting when Grelle had suggested they go clothes shopping. She’d been expecting fun and shopping and trying on ridiculous outfits, not cowering behind a rack of frankly unattractive dresses and trying to convince her ridiculous friend to go talk to some girl she didn’t even know.

“Look, if you don’t pluck up the courage to go and speak to her within the next...ten minutes, I’m going to call Rachel and have her pick me up. This is boring Grellie…” Angelina complained. “Just go say hi. What’s the worst that’ll happen?”

“She could hate me! There’s just so much potential for disaster here Annie. She knows me! She’s known all mes...even...y’know...Anyway. If I don’t go in with a proper plan of attack I shall never get to know her...if you know what I mean.” Grelle gave her friend a lewd smile that made the other redhead roll her eyes. “And you can’t leave me here alone… Not when I need you to be my wingwoman.”

Oh...so she wanted a wingwoman did she? A mischievous grin crossed An’s face. She was going to show Grelle Sutcliff a wingwoman. She stood up.

With a cry of anguish Grelle watched with wide eyes as Angelina wandered over to a rack of dresses a way away and began happily browsing through them, seemingly oblivious to Grelle’s plight. From the smirk on her face, Grelle could tell that An could hear her perfectly well, she was just ignoring her. How dare she?!

Then, she did the unthinkable! An picked out a dress!

It was a red one, slightly too long for An herself but Grelle had a sneaking suspicion that that was entirely intentional. What was she doing?

With impossibly even wider eyes, Grelle watched as her friend made her way over to the queue, dress in one hand, phone in the other. The spying girl felt her pocket buzz and reached in.

Remember, you wanted me to be your wingwoman. X

Yes! Grelle thought, but not like this, whatever this was. An was going to ruin her carefully crafted plan of staring longingly at Mey Rin but not ever actually doing anything about it until her longing and love consumed her entirely and she felt she would burst from it all. At which point she would confess in a suitably dramatic fashion and then the other girl would reject her firmly and she could move onto the secondary plan of clinging and hovering until such a time that the girl gave in and went out with her. Just like she was with Will and Sebastian. Only...that didn’t feel quite right if she were honest. She didn’t want Mey Rin to be like them. She wanted the other girl to like her properly, to...well...love her. Be her girlfriend.

Grelle wanted to be able to go on dates with her and hold her hand and do all those lovely mushy romantic things that women would do in her stories. She wanted this to be sweet and caring and for Mey Rin to run her fingers through her hair and tell her that she was the most gorgeous woman she’d ever met in her life. An might ruin all of that! She was at the till now, handing over the red dress to Mey Rin. The bespectacled girl’s face was flushed, a lovely shade of pink staining her cheeks and making Grelle want to either eat her, or kiss the soft looking skin there...either one was good.

They were talking now, Grelle leaned over, trying to see if she could make out what they were saying. No luck! But then An pointed over to her hiding spot and she ducked down, face a bright red. That traitor! She was supposed to be helping not pointing her out! That wasn’t part of their best friend code!

She peered out again. An was no longer at the counter and Mey Rin was looking more flushed that ever. Practically scarlet in the face now even as she served the next person in line.

There was an impatient clicking of heels behind her and a piece of paper was thrust in her face.

“Her number you wuss. And she’s available to pick up on Friday after 7pm. You’re going to go out to dinner together. And you’re going to be wearing the dress I’ve just bought you.” An informed her with a patiently exasperated smile. “Now...can we actually go shopping?”

Grelle leapt to her feet with a loud, overjoyed whoop, throwing herself at her best friend and pulling her into a hug, a myriad of thank yous leaving her lips excitedly before she pulled back slightly, a shark like smile appearing on her face.

“Do that to me again Angelina Dalles, and I will kill you…” She hissed as menacingly as she could given the happiness in her eyes.

She had a date with Mey Rin!

[d0yenne-archived]

Angelina Phantomhive… Well, she’s definitely something, alright. Her face claim is Makise Kurisu. Her bio is a HUGE spoiler alert for my story, Demons, so beware~!! Also, trigger warning—suicide  

:Species and Basics

     Anne, like Lia and Kira, is a Hybrid, but a completely different type. Anne—and her twin brother, Leic—is a mixture of Demon and Grim Reaper. She used to be mostly human with the ability of fire manipulation and accelerated growing, but that all changed when she abandoned her family and became an official grim reaper.

     And yes, before we get into this, her parents are the most unlikely couple you will find in the Kuroshitsuji fandom—Grell Sutcliff And Ciel Phantomhive. If you have a problem with those two being Anne’s parents, maybe Anne isn’t the muse for you...!!

:Appearance 

     Before becoming a grim reaper (or in a verse where she never becomes a reaper), Anne’s eyes were a beautiful and rich blue just like her father’s and with his eyeshape too, but brighter and more feminine. Her bangs are just like his as well, but her hair color itself is bright red and is long and at some points messy. 

     After she became a reaper, her blue eyes became green and she now uses contact lenses. She has a very muscular build and is average height. She’s quite attractive, based on her father’s genes (and her mother’s in some areas).

     She typically wears a reaper suit.

:Personality 

Anne’s personality is a fiery one indeed, more so in her younger years. As she ages, she gets more and more like her father—prideful, collected, stubborn, more serious, pretty frightening if you ask me. And yet, when she’s around Lia (whom she’s in love with) she’s her funny, warm self.

     As a child, she was  the sun to her younger twin brother, Leic, and he was her moon. She loves him more than anything, and will protect him with her life. Or at least, that WAS the case. As adults, tension is terribly high between the two...

     She gets along best with her mom, Grell, and has always been iffy with her dad, Ciel. Nevertheless, even though she looks mostly like Grell, she has TONS of Ciel moments without even realizing it.

    Oh, and she was named after Madam Red.

:Past

     First off, she’s a reaper. She killed herself when she was only a few months old (hold on a sec, I’ll go into that). 

    If you want to do a rp with her, just tell me what age you want her to be. Let me show you what she’s like and what’s happened to her throughout the age choices you have. (Also, keep in mind I only do Romance Rps and Anne is a lesbian.)

    Born: Ciel was off at war, so she grew with only Grell and Leic, unaware of Reapers and Demons. She loved fire and, since she was the oldest, couldn’t wait to be the earl. 

    3 months old (looks like a three year old with the smarts of a eight year old): Ciel came back. Her dad was worried his kids would become dangerous and was about to kill them when Undertaker showed up and stopped him. Undertaker then stuck around and Leic began to love him, while Anne thought him to be somewhat familiar. Ciel told her she couldn’t be a earl due to her gender, which really pissed her off. She learned of her fire ability. She learned about demons and reapers. She found Grell’s chainsaw in her room with Leic. The chainsaw almost fell on her little brother, surely going to kill him, so she threw him out of the way and got a scar on her hand from the chainsaw as a result. She hit her head from the chainsaw incident and lost her sight. Ciel made a deal with her and restored her sight, putting his mark on her back, as well as on Leic’s. The reason for the deal? Only to protect his children, no issues. Ciel wanted to make her into a proper lady, and she wanted control over her life. So she killed herself the same way Grell did: by hanging herself.

    Three years old (looks like a fifteen year old only because she manipulated her appearance to match Leic’s, since reapers don’t age.): She became a reaper legend, and the best one ever. She ran into Grell and Leic and was overjoyed to see her family again. Still hated Ciel because she thought he was ashamed of her. She went back to the manor and came face to face with her dear dad. Long story short, he actually HUGGED her and apologized for not being the father she needed. Quite a few tears later, she forgave him. Then some shit got real and Ciel went crazy, trying to protect his family. Not that important. Anne can explain it to your muse in the rp.

    3 years old (just a few months later and looks to be sixteen): She comes back to the manor to see her brother again. Lia walks into her life, and Anne falls in love with her. But Leic loves Lia too, so Anne stays silent. Soon, Ciel tells her that Leic has gone a bit crazy and enjoys killing people. He asks her to be his heir to the manor AND to be the next ruler of the underworld. She agrees after a little while and begins her training. She soon goes to the Underworld with Ciel and Grell to continue her training, leaving Leic at the manor.  

    Eight (looks to be about twenty one): Super strong princess of the Underworld. But watching her brother be with her love (Lia) has made her go cold—like her father. What?? No way!! She’s a fucking inferno!! Well, not anymore for she’s gone cold, having lost her childhood kindness and is now focused on being the best damned queen of the Underworld. 

     So, that’s Anne! Tell me if you want to Rp with her!!

like this post if you have read it and agree to it, please.

[cruelbutnevercrass]

Running, her mind was constantly running these days. Everything in her life was mangled, loud, disjointed, and worse still she was quickly losing control. Her sanity was fractured, mind torn by grief, and infected by the anger of another more powerful influence. Dawn’s pale-yellow light filtered in through her open curtains, causing her drooping eyes to wince. He would be in any moment to check that she was up and ready for the day ahead, a constant flaming reminder of her sins.

As always, he greeted her with a sharp smile, blundering guise on hold when it was just the two of them. “You’ve two appointments this morning, Madam, one for a young girl sick from the workhouse, and the other is a woman who wishes to kill her child,” he murmured flippantly.

Angelina looked up from her morning tea, eyes cold at Grell’s crass description. She hated when he tried to rile her up so early in the morning. “I shall, of course, try to dissuade her from this course, Grell. Was there anything else.”

He fairly pouted, dropping all pretense to sit beside her. With a gloved hand he reached out, stroking Angelina’s chopped bob. “No need to be so cold, dearest. We both know she deserves a visit from Jack~”

Her hands curled into fists beside her, body tense. “Is it not worth more if the child can be saved?”

With a scowl he stood, nearly upturning the tray sitting on Angelina’s lap. “Don’t go soft on me now, dearest! Our work is not yet complete. Where’s that fire, Madam Red, that spark of passion?” He huffed, hip cocked to the side as he regarded his mistress. “I must attend to my own duties today, but I shall be back tonight. I hope this episode of misanthropy has cleared by then and you’re ready to begin anew.”

Without so much as a by-your-leave Grell Sutcliff had disappeared. Angelina suspected that was what made the redhead so terrifying, the seemingly godlike abilities he possessed and flaunted at will. Things were not done by halves with the Reaper, everything was a spectacle, and in the beginning Angelina had been caught up in his beauty, his grace and majesty. However, now it seemed monstrous. He claimed they were partners, a perfect pair destined to live forever for their great work. The women they butchered deserved it, after all, for throwing away so callously that which Angelina and Grell could not possess. They had the moral high ground, he argued, and everyone was terrified to step out of line lest Jack strike them down. Almost nothing provided relief for such turmoil, the anger and hatred she felt against the world, against God himself for all she had suffered, and the pain she inflicted upon those women, the madness Grell was spreading through her. But how does one tell a deity they wish to cease contact. That they want to try to pick up the shattered pieces of their life and move on? Surely it was a delicate matter, and one, she knew, that would anger Grell.

Perhaps tonight she would broach the subject.

…Then again, he seemed to see her as nothing more than a plaything. His contempt for human life didn’t stop at his partner. There were many times he had reminded her of her fragile nature, her inherent weaknesses, despite his proclamations of devotion and ‘love’ She was fearful of what the Reaper would do should she prove uncooperative. With a sigh she stood and dressed herself for the day; an arduous task since Grell had run off in a snit. When Angelina was ready she walked to work for a trying day. The patient Grell mentioned could not be convinced to keep their child despite Angelina’s offering to help. She performed the surgery, heart aching throughout the procedure. Perhaps Grell was right, these women were good for nothing…But then, what did that make her? Trudging home after work she was not surprised to see Grell lounging on the divan, swirling a glass of her expensive cognac.

“Have you come to your senses, darling?” he purred, sharp smile glinting in the firelight.

“Oh yes, my queen, I’ve learnt the error of my ways, and I feel my contrition terribly, sincerely, and down to the bone.”

His glowing eyes narrowed. “Watch your tone, Madam.”

She looked down, black lashes brushing her pale cheek. “Grell, I don’t wish to do this anymore.”

The glass and cognac went crashing into the fire, causing it to roar briefly as if as angry as Grell was in this moment. “Come again?” he asked, eerily calm.

“I believe you heard me, Grell.”

With a snarl he stalked toward her, heels clicking sharply against the wood floor. With monstrous speed he grabbed her by the arm, pulling her close. “I don’t think you understand, Madam. When I deigned to help you seek justice for those innocent souls, to avenge your anger against them, I thought you understood that you would be seeing this to its end.” There was none of the lilt or put on femininity in his tone now. It was a low, dangerous growl that made Angelina’s blood freeze.

She swallowed against the lump in her throat, and said to the red death, “Let me go; we’re through.”

His eyes widened for just a moment, glassy and full of rage, before his expression shifted so dramatically Angelina thought his skin might crack. “Darling, come now, there’s no reason to be so contrary. I know this is difficult for you; as a mortal you still have a misplaced sense of pity.” With a tug he pulled her into his arms, delicate white fingers playing with her hair. “B-u-t together we can make it all right. Come out with me, let’s paint the town red~”

With a whimper she melted into his arms, unable to escape him. “I want all this to end, I’m so tired.”

“I know, I know,” he cooed, shushing her gently. “But trust me, my love, life is so much better when lived to the fullest. Be bold and take back what should have been yours, what you lost so unjustly.”

          “Will you help me, Grell?” she breathed against his lapel, fingers clutching the fabric as if it could save her from drowning.

           A smirk flittered over Grell’s lips, and he replied with a soft, “As you wish, Madam,” before they disappeared.

           Blood.

           There was always so much blood. Sticky. The metallic scent clinging to one’s nose. She thought as a surgeon she would be used to it. But nothing prepared one for the stench of a corpse strewn about the room. Angelina had done her work quickly, hoping to prevent Grell’s more vulgar play. It did not stop him from tearing her apart until he called Angelina to his side to retrieve his prize.

           “Go on, my love, take it. They don’t deserve to have such a gift, you know it.”

           The blade glinted against the light, sharp and ready. Angelina hesitated for but a moment before she sliced into their victim.

           Angelina’s mind settled for a small space of time when the organ was finally excised. Everything was quiet. Grell stared at her with pride and devotion, and for a fleeting, glimmering moment, she felt happiness again. Then she looked down, reality crashing between her ears like a drum at the sight of their victim. Grief, helplessness, the contempt she had for herself pounding in her head in a mantra from Hell. Touching her shoulder gently Grell took them home.

           She collapsed against him as they touched down, trembling arms snaking around his shoulders. He released a simpering coo from between his bloodstained lips and held her close. “My darling Madam, stay with me a little longer…” She looked up at him with bloodshot eyes, mind spinning fifty thoughts too many. “There’s my good girl. Let’s get you to bed.” Stripping her of her soiled clothes he lifted her into his arms to carry his trembling murderess up the small platform and into her bed. Depositing a soft kiss to her forehead he turned to leave.

“No,” she gasped, vicelike grip upon his thin wrist.

He turned with a Cheshire grin, sharp and cold, loosening his tie. “As you wish.”

Their lovemaking was frenzied, filled with as much madness as the back alleys of White Chapel. Ruby hands stroked and polluted soft white skin, pulling gasps and moans from the divine and noble alike. Grell gripped her hips, leaving fingertip-shaped bruises along the jut of the bone. “You belong to me, mon petit…”

She realised with horrible clarity that this was the truth; he would never let her go. Her body, her life, her very soul would always belong to him. Fear coiled around her heart, squeezing until she couldn’t breathe. She clung to him with a cry as pain and pleasure pooled in her belly, and with a final thrust they released together in a white-hot climax.

Breathing heavily she stood from the bed as he sat up, confused. “Where are you going, pet?”

She shook her head frantically, needing to escape. Stumbling, she ambled toward the bathroom, slamming the door shut to fall against the heavy wood once safe inside.

Bemused, Grell rose from the bed, the red sheet wrapped delicately around him as if Botticelli would paint the red death god any moment. He approached the door and knocked softly, “I did not think myself too terrible, Madam. Though truth be told you’re not my type…”

Angelina wrapped her arms around herself as she rocked back and forth, eyes staring forward, unseeing. Grell continued to knock, the sound too loud; why was everything too loud?

“Darling, let’s not fight, whatever you’re feeling we can discuss,” came the simpering, lilt through the door. “Angelina open the door, please. I will not ask again.”

With a cry she opened the shears and dug them into her wrist, eyes raised away from the red immediately bubbling up from the blade. Quiet…quiet…quiet…quiet! She pulled the shears down the length of her forearm tearing into herself the peace she could not find elsewhere.  Everything was growing colder, Grell sounded farther and farther away; with a soft whimper she fell to the side.

“Madam…Angelina!” The pounding of his fist against the door mirrored the sound of her heart in her ears as blood pooled around her small frame. Her world darkened and with a soft breath she finally smiled as she shut her eyes.

“Fuck it,” he breathed, breaking the door down, pushing Angelina’s body further into the small bathroom. When his phosphorescent eyes gazed down upon his scarlet mistress he froze. “You fool,” he breathed, dropping to his knees beside her, staining his hands anew with her blood. With little effort he pulled her into his lap, holding her close. “I asked you to stay a little longer, idiot girl…Why couldn’t you see this through?” Small wisps of slate-blue record curled from her wrists, playing small scenes for Grell to see. With a sharp growl he clamped his hand upon her wrist, hoping to staunch the flow of Records.

He felt small pin pricks as the weak Records attempted to penetrate his skin and he chuckled humourlessly. “Trying to influence my heart even in death? Even Ophelia was not so cruel…”

Distracted as he was he did not notice one William T. Spears porting into the small space, looming over the too red scene, nose crinkling in distaste. “Dispatch officer Grell Sutcliff I’ve come to retrieve you,” he murmured coldly, gazing down at him as if he were the lowest being on Earth.

Shaking, he looked up at William, grin widening manically. “Perfect, just perfect. It would be you, wouldn’t it, darling? …You can’t have her…I won’t allow it.”

William sneered, disgusted with Sutcliff's behaviour. “You are in enough trouble, do not make it harder on yourself.”

Grell fought the immeasurable urge to take his mistress and flee, despite the records leaking from her body and playing around them in a cheap staccato Vaudeville show. “Will…please, I’ve never asked you for anything, but…don’t, don’t do this,” he gestured at himself then at William, “to her.”

Williams expression did not change, glasses glinting in the low light of the bathroom. “We will discuss this later,” he replied, readying his Scythe. Without warning or another word he struck, Scythe penetrating her chest; Grell did not move from beneath the mortal even as their crimes played for William’s judgement. The redhead glared up at William, as if blaming him for the outcome of their madness.

Unfazed and unamused William judged her Record accordingly and stamped the file. There were many things he might comment for the record, but they would have to wait until he got Sutcliff back to the Realm. He stepped forward, pulling one murderer from the other as Grell, defeated, put up little fight.

“You’re so cruel, darling,” he murmured dejectedly. He couldn’t say goodbye, couldn’t take a memento of her passing. She was just gone. He stood before his boss, glaring defiantly at him; William regarded him coolly, ignoring the roiling emotions within the depths of the redhead’s gaze. He always knew the other man to be mad, but for the first time in a century he saw the melancholy beneath the angry churning within his manic heart. The desire to be accepted, wanted…even loved. Had the mortal provided these, even in their shared lunacy? Is that why he clung to her even in death? The man who culled all from the highest aristocracy to the lowest personage without batting an eye, prideful of his impartial Reaper’s judgement. How had this unremarkable mortal woman swayed him away from their laws and regulations? It was unacceptable, and William would make sure he was punished for his transgression.

He grabbed Grell by the lapel of his coal black coat and hauled him close, weary he would flee. “We are Reapers, Sutcliff. We follow orders from On High; we do not get to deviate from this path we have chosen, we don’t ask questions, we don’t make errors.” With these cryptic words imparted he returned to the Reaper Realm with the deviant and a new soul for perdition. It would seem this would be a long night of overtime for one William T. Spears.

[thestarsofthenight]

Chapter 5: A Fine Laugh is the Best Medicine

Fandom: Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler

Pairings: mainly Ciel Phantomhive/Elizabeth Midford

Summary: “There is nothing more ridiculous than living in a country in which an orange-skinned man won an election,” Francis had said, ending the Midfords four-year-long stay in the USA. Three days later, Elizabeth lives in gloomy London, wishing to be back in sunny LA, when a murder case suddenly turns her life upside down, entangling her with Ciel Phantomhive, his duty to the crown, and his school-intern detective agency…

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“I love people who make me laugh. I honestly think it’s the thing I like most, to laugh. It cures a multitude of ills. It’s probably the most important thing in a person.”

― Audrey Hepburn

London, England, United Kingdom – November 2016

That was not what Elizabeth had awaited.

After seeing the look on Ciel’s face and hearing his ominous words, she had braced herself to go to a very strange place – like something resembling a witch’s house. But now, she and the others were standing in front of St Bartholomew’s Hospital – the oldest hospital in Great Britain, having been founded in 1123.

“I thought that we would go somewhere odd,” Elizabeth told Ciel while they entered the building through the back door.

“The place is not odd,” he answered her, not looking at her but keeping his eyes in front of him. “The person we are about to meet, however, is.”

They headed downstairs, and people who saw them only glanced at them before continuing to where they had to go. The hospital staff had indeed got used to seeing a twelve- or thirteen-year-old boy wandering around these halls, flanked by a weirdly mixed group of adults. If anyone of them was surprised to see Elizabeth, they did a magnificent job not to show it.

Elizabeth followed Ciel and the others into Barts’ morgue – a huge room in a sickening white with the doors of the containers on the walls and tables resembling operating ones here and there. Except them, there was nobody else in the room.

“I am not in the mood for your silly games, Undertaker,” Ciel said into the room, and Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at his words.

“Hi hi. I knew that you would come~” suddenly came a voice from somewhere around the room, interrupting Elizabeth who had just wanted to ask Ciel why the person they were here to meet was called “Undertaker.”

“Welcome, Earl…” continued the eerie voice, and one of the container doors opened. “Do you want to see how it feels to sleep in a container?”

Elizabeth got goose bumps when she saw a tall man with long silvery grey hair crawling out of the container. How morbid – a living person in a place for the dead.

The man wore a black suit which was a little bit too big for him and a black hat. The bangs of his hair were so long and unruly that they covered most of his face, but she could still see a scar running over his face and the wide grin on his face when he finally stood tall and odd in front of them. A glimpse at Lau, Angelina, and Grelle told Elizabeth that the man’s entrance had scared them more than it had her: They were staring at him with open mouths and Grelle cowered on the ground, completely horrified.

The man seemed to be quite amused by their reaction.

“Like I’ve said: I didn’t come here to play today,” Ciel replied with slight annoyance in his voice.

The strange man walked towards Ciel and pressed a finger against his mouth and only now, Elizabeth could see that he had very long fingernails which had been painted black and wore a ring on his left index finger.

“You don’t need to tell me. I know why you came. With just one look I can tell what is on your mind.” He giggled, and when he saw Elizabeth, his grin widened.

“You brought an interesting girl with you, Earl,” the man said. “And since you went out of your way to visit me, I’ll certainly do everything I can to help.” He walked to the morgue’s exit. “Please take a seat first; I’ll go make tea. It is all right when you sit on the tables. They were cleaned~” With these words, the man left the room.

“And this was…?” Elizabeth said, sitting down next to Ciel. Except for Sebastian who had positioned himself behind his master, Ciel had been the only one not to hesitate to sit down on one of the tables.

“Undertaker, yes,” he replied.

“Why is a forensic pathologist called ‘Undertaker’? I mean that cannot be his real name, right?”

“Because I am primarily a mortician, dearie,” the man, Undertaker, answered Elizabeth’s question when he stepped back into the room, a tray in his hand. “What I do here, I do for fun because I cannot get enough of the beauty of death.”

He offered them bone-shaped biscuits which he had stored in a jar looking like a cinerary urn, and Earl Grey poured into beakers.

He is like a darker version of the Mad Hatter, Elizabeth thought while eating one of the biscuits which were surprisingly quite delicious.

“Now then,” Undertaker started, sitting down himself, “you wanted to know about the Copycat?”

“No, I want to talk about the other prostitute-killing maniac walking around Whitechapel – Leather Bib,” Ciel replied, resulting in Undertaker starting to giggle.

“Sarcasm surely runs in your family, doesn’t it? It is always so refreshing to have a Phantomhive around~”

“If you do not start telling me soon what you have found out, you can as well start working on my funeral.”

“It would be a pleasure to put you in one of my custom-made coffins, Earl, but after the numerous times you have come to me have you forgotten that my services have a price?”

“I see, so that’s how it is. You’re very good at making business, Undertaker,” Lau said, trying to sneak into the conversation like he usually did. “How much money do you want for your information?”

“How much money?!” Undertaker exclaimed and jumped in front of Lau, startling him. His sudden movement and change in tone made Elizabeth flinch. What a Mood Whiplash.

“I don’t want any of the Queen’s money!” Undertaker snapped at Lau before walking back to Ciel, cradling his head in his hands. “Now, then, Earl… I only have one requirement…”

It has to do something with jokes! Elizabeth thought, eagerly watching the scene before her. Ciel implied that, and having got to know Undertaker’s nature it is quite likely!

“Show me a first rate laugh. If you do, no matter what you want to know, I’ll tell you!” Undertaker said with crossed arms.

100 points to Midford House!

“Fu, Earl, if that’s the case, let me handle this,” Lau said, stepping forward. “The sleeping tiger of the Shanghai’s New Year’s party, also referred to as my soul – this should satisfy you!”

And with a triumphant smile on his face, Lau told the lamest joke in the history of jokes in an insanely confident manner. Elizabeth was not even sure if this could still count as a joke as it had been so utterly terrible.

“It looks like he won’t talk, Lau,” Angelina said after recovering from the shock after hearing Lau’s excuse of a joke. “It can’t be helped.” She stepped forward. “Then, I, Madame Red, a beauty of high society, shall make my appearance now! If I ask him, he’ll sure be sure to tell us!”

“Madame!” Grelle yelled from the back, but Angelina already started to talk. Quickly, he covered Elizabeth’s ears, apparently knowing very well what would come now, and she saw Sebastian covering Ciel’s ears as well.

What could be worse than Lau’s “joke”? Elizabeth wondered. After an hour, Undertaker had enough of Angelina’s tale and wrapped a bandage around her mouth to make her shut up. He did the same to Lau – perhaps in the fear that he could make another “joke.”

“Thank you, Mr Sutcliff,” Elizabeth said to Grelle after he removed his hands again. He politely bowed at her.

“I guess it is your turn, Lady,” Undertaker announced, an amused smile on his lips.

“Leave her out,” Ciel interfered.

“Why should I? Let the Lady have her chance – maybe she can make me laugh?” He chuckled.

I am so in trouble, Elizabeth thought. After Ciel had asked her if she knew any good jokes, she had gone through the files in her mind – and had found not a single acceptable one. All she could think of had been silly rabbit jokes.

What do you call a happy rabbit? A hop-timist!

What did the rabbit give his girlfriend? A 14 carrot ring!

What do you call a rabbit transformer? Hop-timus Prime!

And so on.

I cannot tell any of them. But everyone stared at her, and her mind was blocked, and she ultimately blurted out, not forgetting to change her voice for the rabbit parts: “Comes a rabbit to a bakery and asks the baker: ‘Do you have bee sting?’ And the baker answers: ‘Yes, I do have bee sting cake.’ ‘Have to apply ointment.’”

In the silent morgue, the only one who giggled was Grelle.

This is beyond embarrassing – hopefully, this just stays a Big Lipped Alligator Moment.

Undertaker grinned at her. “Cute but not really suitable to cause laughing. You’re the only one left, Earl – it is your turn now.”

“Damn,” Ciel mumbled, but before he could start, Sebastian stepped forward. “It can’t be helped.”

“Sebastian?!” Ciel exclaimed, puzzled, and Undertaker said: “Oh, it’s the butler’s turn now?”

“Everyone, please step outside for a moment. You absolutely must not peek inside,” Sebastian said, and they dutifully obeyed.

Elizabeth, Ciel, Angelina, Grelle, and Lau stood in front of the morgue’s entrance for only a short period before they heard Undertaker’s hysterical laughter through the thick walls.

What has Sebastian done? Elizabeth asked herself when Sebastian opened the door for them and she saw Undertaker lying on the floor, his hair now covering his entire face, and holding his body in laughter.

“I have noticed that there are not enough ‘guests,’” Undertaker said after he had calmed down from his outburst and everyone else was seated on the tables again.

“Not enough?” Sebastian asked.

“Yes, not enough. Internal organs, of course. Don’t you think that the eternally sleeping ‘guests’ that lie in coffins are so cute? My hobby is to take out the organs for research.”

Immediately, Lau, Angelina, and Grelle stared at their beakers, turning white.

“They were autoclaved,” Ciel told them, annoyed.

“Ah, of course, they were,” Lau said with a knowing nod. “It is foolish to assume they weren’t.”

“You have no idea what ‘autoclaved’ means, right?”

Lau smiled confidently at him before he raised his hands. “Not at all.”

“To recite Wikipedia: ‘An autoclave is a pressure chamber used to carry out industrial processes requiring elevated temperature and pressure different from ambient air pressure. Autoclaves are used in medical applications to perform sterilization and in the chemical industry to cure coatings and vulcanize rubber and for hydrothermal synthesis.’”

Lau nodded at Ciel’s words.

“You still have no idea, right?” Ciel said, and Lau nodded. Ciel rolled his eyes. “It is a pressure chamber often used to sterilise things – this means that whatever you put in them, afterwards it is cleaner than CPR depicted in movies or TV shows. And this means that no matter what Undertake has done to these beakers, it is safe to drink from them.”

He turned to Undertaker. “Please, just continue.”

“Hi hi, of course, Earl.

“The prostitute, Anna Walker, isn’t a whole woman anymore – because her womb is gone. Just like the other three.”

“Interesting,” Ciel said. “The canonical five victims of the Ripper were badly-hit but only the second’s, Annie Chapman’s, and the fifth’s, Mary Jane Kelly’s, uterus was at least partially removed. But everyone’s, except Elizabeth Stride’s, abdomen was mutilated.”

“Indeed. Apart from that, the Copycat murdered their four victims – Courtney Alizarin, Molly Marrow, Erika Weikopf, and Anna Walker – in the same exact manner as the original Ripper did.”

“This could indicate that Jack the Rip-off’s real objective is to remove the uteri of these women but, for some reason, they made it look like it is the work of a maniac, only wanting to re-enact this famous crime.”

“Perhaps they want to pin the murder on a very desperate Ripperologist?” Elizabeth suggested.

Ciel looked at her like he had forgotten that she was still here before he spoke. “A nice suggestion, but flawed. After all, this would mean that the Copycat does not only either hold a personal grudge against these women or even needs five uteri for some reason but also that they also hate a Ripperologist whom they may or may not know. However, until now, there weren’t any hints suggesting that one – or all – of these overenthusiastic fanboys and wannabe detectives could be the culprit. Furthermore, if the Whitechapel Copycats indeed planned to pin the murder on a Ripperologist – don’t you think that they would have done a better job with the re-enacting? The dates of the murders are wrong, the times too. No letters have been sent so far. And, of course, there’s still the aspect of all four victims missing their uterus. A real Ripperologist wouldn’t have made such mistakes. And it’s not like it’s hard to find information on Jack the Ripper on the internet.”

“There’s something which makes me wonder: the CCTV cameras,” Elizabeth began. “London is one of the metropoles with the largest CCTV network. There are thousands of them, hidden in every corner. How could none of them have filmed the crime?”

“CCTV cameras could not prevent the bombings of July 7, 2005 – they may be everywhere, but the system is not flawless. In case of the Copycat Murders, there were cameras at the crime scenes but, mysteriously, all of them malfunctioned at the time of the killing. I do not know how but they somehow managed to manipulate the system.” Ciel shook his head. “If they had used my new, improved cameras, such a thing might not have happened. I showed them to some higher-ups, but, of course, they refused my offer. I work in the dark – and do a better job than them. Of course, they would not accept it if I invaded their beloved CCTV business.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Doesn’t Funtom only sell sweets and toys?”

“Yes, it does. Designing and building electrical devices is a hobby of mine – I created my cameras during an especially boring German lesson.”

“Ciel, why am I sending you to school if you don’t learn?” Angelina said, shaking her head.

“Because you refused to let me be homeschooled so that ‘I could learn how to socialise,’” Ciel replied.

They sound like Artemis Fowl and his mother whose name is, coincidentally, Angeline.

“Can I continue my report?” Undertaker said after a while. “Yes? Very well, hi hi.

“The Copycat may not have followed the Ripper’s moves until now, but the removal of Anna Walker’s left kidney could suggest that they will follow the original crime’s procedure more closely now.”

“And why should a cut-out kidney hint such a thing?” Angelina wanted to know.

Ciel blinked at her. “Don’t you remember? I had told you quite a lot about Jack the Ripper when you came over for dinner a few years ago.”

“You did? I guess, it slipped my mind.” Angelina shrugged.

He sighed. “After Jack the Ripper killed his fourth victim, he sent his famous letter ‘From Hell.’ Many letters have been sent by people, claiming to be the Ripper, but this particular letter is one of those which could truly be from Jack the Ripper themselves. ‘From Hell’ was sent to George Lusk, the chairman of the Whitechapel Vigilance Committee, on October 15, 1888, alongside half a kidney because the letter states that the Ripper ate the other half of it.”

Grelle spitted out the biscuit he had just been eating into his beaker.

“Gross, Ciel,” Lau remarked. “People are eating here.”

“We are in a morgue, sitting on operating tables, eating bone-shaped biscuits, and drinking tea out of beakers while discussing a serial murder case.” Ciel looked at Undertaker. “Please, just continue.”

“The wombs and the kidney were removed with odd precision, signifying that no regular person could have committed these murders. Besides, if we compare the double event of November 21 to the original one of September 30, 1888, it is also evident that the killer is someone experienced. After all, just like Elizabeth Stride and Catherine Eddowes, Erika Weikopf and Anna Walker died around an hour apart from another. Unlike the original victims, Weikopf and Walker were not in possession of their uteri when they were found. It is impossible for someone not familiar with the handiwork to remove them with such precision and carefulness in such a short time like our Copycat did. After all, Weikopf and Walker did not die next to each other.” Undertaker poked one of his long fingernails into Ciel’s cheek. “You should have been able to figure that out too, Earl.

“It’s very likely that the murderer is an expert – in today’s world, there are numerous people possessing this very knowledge. This information will not cut down the list of suspects. Maybe if he knew you were here, it could lure them out. They will keep committing crimes, they definitely will, unless someone stops them. Can you stop them? Aristocrat of Evil, Earl of Phantomhive?”

“The world of darkness has the world of darkness’ rules. They wouldn’t murder random people for no reason. There must be an influence manipulating them from behind,” Ciel responded to Undertaker’s words. “I won’t be scared. No matter what tricks I have to use, I will solve this crime.

“Thanks for the tea and biscuits and providing information, Undertaker. It is time for us to go now.”

  ***

  It was already quite dark when they returned to the townhouse after leaving Lau in East End, and right before they could get out of the car Ciel’s mobile phone rang. He got it out of his coat pocket, and Elizabeth leaned in a bit to take a glimpse at the message he had received:

Come to my house, ASAP! S7616.

“Aunt Anne, we cannot discuss the information we have received just now,” Ciel said to Madame Red, putting away his phone. “I have to go to McMillan’s now.”

“Can I come with you?” Elizabeth asked.

“You should take her with you,” Angelina interjected before Ciel could say anything. “She is part of your team now, and it wouldn’t be gentlemanlike at all to leave her out.”

“Wouldn’t it be more ‘gentlemanlike’ to bring her home before it gets even darker than it already is?”

Angelina just wanted to reply something when Ciel’s mobile rang again. He took it out and read the message.

Just take Lizzy with you. No time to argue with DD.

I barely knew McMillan but… What is he? A psych?

Ciel sighed and put his phone away again. “You can accompany me, Lady Midford. Good evening, Aunt Anne, Mr Sutcliff.”

  ***

  “There you are!” McMillan greeted Ciel and Elizabeth when they entered his house, closing the door behind them.

The McMillan house was an old Victorian building, flanked by similar looking edifices. The façade was greyish-white, but lovingly raised flowers left and right on the way to the entrance, a friendly doormat telling you to ring the bell and visit them as well as colourful curtains hanging in the windows let the old house shine with life.

“My parents are not at home, and Niall and Nuala are at a sleepover,” McMillan informed them while they took off their coats.

“How is the party organisation going?” Elizabeth wanted to know.

“It’s going well. Thanks for asking. And, Lizzy, how was meeting Undertaker?”

“He’s a very interesting person,” Elizabeth replied.

McMillan chuckled. “Yes, he is. And he bakes the best biscuits. I always ask him to give me the recipe, but he keeps refusing.”

Undertaker’s cookie recipe is something even McMillan does not know? What is happening to the world as we know it?

“Lizzy, you can give me your coat, I will put it away for you.”

Elizabeth handed it to him. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. C?”

So cute. They call each other by the first letter of their names.

Ciel also gave him his jacket, and in the few minutes McMillan was gone to hang up the coats somewhere, Elizabeth could take in the inner beauty of the house.

Everything about it was narrow. In every corner were books, books, and more books; here and there were toys. Everything was stuffed with signs of life, and still, Elizabeth did not feel claustrophobic – the house might be narrow, but the building’s warmth made you forget how small everything was. It was such a stark contrast to the wide and cold Phantomhive townhouse – just like the vibrant McMillan was the opposite of the cynical Ciel.

They climbed the stairs to McMillan’s room after he had returned. His room was just like the others – narrow and crammed to the ceiling.

“So… why did you tell us to come, N?” Ciel wanted to know, sitting down on McMillan’s revolving chair.

“There are two things I want to talk about,” McMillan said, putting a piece of paper and a box on his desk. Elizabeth moved closer to join the boys at the table.

McMillan folded out the piece of paper and revealed that it was a map with four crosses on it which had all been connected. “The first thing is this.

“While pondering over the case, I got the sudden idea to mark on a map where the crimes happened. When I marked the places, it did not come to my mind but, naturally, I had to connect the crosses – how could I not do it after all these maths lessons with Mr Boone? He literally screams at us to do this whenever we work with graphs.

“Well, I unconsciously connected the dots, and when I looked at it again, I noticed something odd.” McMillan ran his right index finger over the red line. “Do you see that? It could be nothing more but a coincidence, but when you see the linked marks, you see that these women were killed where they were killed in order to form a certain letter: ‘J.’”

“This could be helpful to determine the last crime scene,” Ciel said, and McMillan nodded. “But the ‘J’ looks a bit strange – the upper line is a little bit too round.”

McMillan nodded again. “Yes, I noticed that too. And then I experimented a little bit and…” He turned the map upside down. Ciel’s and Elizabeth’s eyes widened at the same time.

“Apparently, our culprit does not only want to carve in stone that he is indeed a copycat of Jack the Ripper but also wants to give you a message: ‘I know that you are there, Ciel Phantomhive,’” McMillan spoke out what all of them had thought.

“A game,” Ciel said, clenching his hands. “This is a game to them.”

“The Copycat is mocking you,” Elizabeth pointed out.

“They are, but I will not lose this game – I never lose a game.”

McMillan nodded. “You should see how often Ciel beats me at chess or Uno, Lizzy. And don’t get me started at Cluedo.”

“And what is the second thing you wanted to tell us?” Ciel wanted to know, and McMillan raised the box. “This was sent to me this afternoon.”

Elizabeth and Ciel shared a quick glance – The letter and the kidney – before they turned their attention back to McMillan who opened the box.

“I know what you are thinking – it has to be the Lusk letter, how can it not be the Lusk letter? I was thinking the exact same thing when the postwoman gave me a package without a sender, but I have to disappoint you. Well, at least, sort of.” He showed them the content of the box – a picture printed on a double sheet. Ciel took it out and put it on the desk.

On the right, the picture showed the image of half a kidney; on the left, there was the photographed letter “From Hell.”

From hell.

Mr Lusk,

Sor

I send you half the Kidne I took from one woman prasarved it for you tother piece I fried and ate it was very nise. I may send you the bloody knif that took it out if you only wate a whil longer

signed

Catch me when you can Mishter Lusk

“At least, this is more readable than the original letter,” Ciel remarked.

“It is,” McMillan replied. “Whoever our killer is, he or she might have copied the real Ripper’s letter with all its terrible spelling and grammar, but they did not have the heart to mimic Jack’s terrible handwriting.”

“But where is the real letter?” Elizabeth said. “The only reason I see for the Copycat not exchanging the name of the letter’s recipient is when the recipient’s name is Mr Lusk.”

“Hm. Possible. I will ask Sebastian to find everyone in London named Lusk and ask them if they received the actual package,” said Ciel.

“Uh, is that not a quite inconvenient and time-consuming procedure?”

“Sebastian can do that,” McMillan assured her. “He is one hell of a butler.

“There’s one more thing I want to point out.” He tapped on the bottom left corner of the paper on which the letter had been written. “It’s very small, but it is still a clue – a very small clue the Copycat themselves have missed: A tiny, tiny emblem belonging to Aleistor Chamber.”

Something clicked in Elizabeth’s head. “Aleistor Chamber? The Viscount of Druitt?”

McMillan nodded.

“I have once heard my mother talking about him,” she said excitedly. “She said ‘Which moron gave the Viscount of Druitt a degree in medicine? How could we end up living in a world in which even the biggest of idiots can become physicians?’

“The Copycat cut out the wombs of these women with the precision of an expert – and Chamber has a master degree in medicine. He certainly qualifies as a suspect.”

“This is a huge mistake on the killer’s part,” Ciel said. “And we cannot be certain that this is not a red herring. But a clue is a clue, and we should follow every one we can find. I heard that Chamber’s hosting a party Sunday evening, but you need an invitation to get inside.” He looked at McMillan. “Do you think you can get us a handful of these invitations until Sunday or do I have to ask Sebastian? After all, you still have preparations to do.”

McMillan shook his head. “This is a child’s play; it won’t take too much time and is even a nice warm-up.” He grinned. “There’s nothing easier than that.”

[sunset-wishes-upon-hill]

The Liars and The Soothsayer chapter 5 (Part 2)

Most patients that went and out through the doors were prostitutes. It wasn’t quite difficult to distinguish them. They all wore some sort of trademark that denoted their status as the ‘women of the night’. It could be the way they dressed that hinted more skin than it was socially appropriate, or the obvious thick make up than other women, or sometimes you didn’t know. It seemed her daily life as a doctor consisted of killing unborn children more than treating the patients. It was why she snapped, Yuri remembered, watching them throwing away something that was forcibly denied from her was something that would unravel anyone.

Yuri shifted in her seat, her legs resting on the seat and her arms crossed upon the top rail and supporting her chin. Her eyes gazed toward the constructing Tower Bridge. The scenery was a nostalgic one as she remembered walking across them with her friends as they chattered about their school works, friends and problems while sipping their milkshakes. Many things, she realised, took for granted. But it was too late to regret now.

She fell asleep. She didn’t realise until her head slipped down the chair and bumped into the next rail. There was few patients waiting but they seemed to be seen by the other doctors.

“Angelina?” She knocked.

No answer.

She knocked again, this time a bit harder and louder. Her chest tightened as ominous feeling rushed through her.

It can’t be. Yuri opened the door only to find her chair empty. She rushed out of the hospital, asking the passing by nurses and doctors if they saw Angelina in the last few hours. They seemed to not notice her absent. She didn’t blame them. They were busy attending to their patients. She froze. Wait a minute… Yuri turned around and headed back to her office. There must be some clue about the next victim. Her victims were her patients. That was her MO.

She quietly slipped and locked the doors. Heading to her table, she pulled out the cabinet and the files in it. They were always females. Yuri separated the files into two categories: males and females. They had abortions. She deducted them from the female category but there were still more than a handful of them and too little time to visit all of them. Limit it to last week to today, she was left with two. She checked the dates and the name ‘Mariah Gales’ caught her attention. She underwent abortion today. Yuri took down her address and ran out, ignoring the puzzled stares from the bystanders.

She must have looked like a crazy woman in the street, soaking wet from the rain, asking every woman she saw if they knew and saw Mariah Gales. Finally, a breakthrough came when a young prostitute pointed to the dingy flat in the corner of the street. Yuri wished she wore trousers. She missed her simple t-shirt, jeans and sneakers. She skidded to a halt as she saw the two tall figures standing in front of the flat. Something glistened in the moonlight and she knew it was a knife.

“STOP!”

One smaller and feminine-looking figure went rigid in its track. Her eyes met the woman’s almost crimson coloured eyes.

“Yuri…how…?”

“I-I know who you are.” She revealed, her eyes never leaving the real threat of the duo. Her butler, “Grell, the Death God.”

The said butler, Grell, swirled to face her completely with a tilted head.

“Oh…” His wide, joker-like grin revealed his inhumanely sharp teeth. It sent shiver down her spine, “I’ve been caught…I thought my acting was good.” He pulled out his ribbon that held his hair into a neat ponytail, took off his round glasses, wiped away the fake lashes and put on his rectangular spectacle.

All the while, Angelina was wordless in the background, studying the tension between them. Then brattle, screeching sound that deepened into a throaty grind pierced through the rainy night and Yuri gasped in soundless scream as she saw the chainsaw grinning toward her. Her eyes clenched shut for the ripping pain that was about to come. Few moments have passed and the sound of chainsaw revving up seemed to become louder as if trying to saw through a solid wall. Her eyes met the dark cloak of a tall man, his dark hair dampened with rain.

“..Seb..astian?”

“Had I not followed you, you would have been dead.” He told her in his usual bored, monotone as he effortlessly pushed the weapon and its handler back to a reasonable, safe distance, “The Death God’s scythe is really a troublesome thing..” He sighed.

“It is a shame, Madame Red…from the very beginning your name was in the list of suspects. However, your alibi was really quite perfect.”

“How horrible, Ciel.” She scoffed as her role of diligent, caring doctor and a kind, philanthropic noble crumbled, “You would suspect one of your own.”

“As long as there is a possibility, I don’t care whether that person is a blood relative or a friend. In the list of suspects, any ‘human’ could not have done it. The same goes for you, of course. But, if the co-criminal was ‘not a human’ then that is a different matter. To be able to access the victims’ room without anyone noticing or to disappear from the party for a few minutes is something people would not notice. The ones able to be ‘Jack the Ripper’ would be the both of you. Aside from the victims being prostitutes and left with no ovaries, they wer all your patients at the Central Hospital you work at. All of them underwent a ‘certain surgery’ and,” He held out a list of paper containing names all crossed out except for the one on top, “The order in which the victims died correspond exactly to the patient on your operation list.”

A bitter smiled appeared on her crimson lip, “How unfortunate…to stand here today against each other…if you haven’t discovered this, we should have still been playing chess together. However,” She clenched her hand into fist, “I’M NOT GOING TO GO EASY ON YOU ANYMORE!!”

Ciel’s eyes tightened as Grell came striking down toward him with his chainsaw. Sebastian quickly blocked the attack by sandwiching its bars between his palms.

“Death Gods should quietly capture the souls that are about to depart from this world. butlers are supposed to follow their master like a shadow. To violate these two principles like you have, makes me want to throw up.”

Grell pouted, as if he was genuninely hurt by his cold, scathing words, “Hey, I really tried my best as a butler to serve my master! I even worked without my makeup or dressing up!”

“How shocking. And you still call yourself a butler?”

Grell smirked, “Even if I’m like this, I’m still the butler of Death!”

“Enough wasting time.” Ciel interrupted as he shook off his medical eye patch, “In the name of Her Majesty and my own wretched name, I command you. Capture them!”

“Yes my Lord.” Sebastian shook of his coat before throwing it toward her, “Please look after young master.”

From the corner of her eyes, she saw Angelina slowly backing up around the corner as the greatest enemies of their kinds were distracted with their own fights. Yuri dumped the coat on Ciel as she ran toward the path in which she disappeared into.

“Hey!” Ciel called after, joining the chase.

She yelped, narrowly missing the knife that shot out from a blindside of the wall edge.

“Angelina, please!”

“You shouldn’t have come here, Yuri!” She screamed as Yuri avoided the knife once again. She stumbled back into Ciel, causing him to fall onto the floor.

“You don’t want to do this!” Yuri dived toward Angelina’s abdomen, knocking out the knife out of her hands. Angelina scrambled toward the knife and Yuri clutched onto her ankle, pulling it toward her and away from the fallen knife.

“Please, Angelina! Don’t put him through this again! PLEASE!” Angelina managed a kick to her arm and the moment of pain was enough time to grab her knife. Angelina stood up as she aimed the knife down toward her nephew, “IF YOU HAD NOT BEN BORN, THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN THE BEST!”

“Young master!”

“NO!”

Suddenly, as if overwhelmed with great shame and guilt and sorrow, the sword slipped away from Angelina’s hands and buried her face with a guttural sobs that came out more like a cry of an animal in immense pain.

“STOP IT, SEBASTIAN!” The demon’s deadly claws halted only a mere inch away from Angelina’s skull, “Don’t kill her!”

Sebastian heaved heavily, pressuring the bleeding wounds as his tattered uniform revealed the extent of his grave injuries even for a demon.

“Madame Red!!” Grell called and her shoulders noticeably stiffened, “Kill that little brat already! If you don’t kill that little brat, it’ll be your turn to be killed! And you have a death god helping you too!”

She flinched and whirled around, her arms protectively caging them both, “But this child is…”

Yuri felt undeniably compel to grab Ciel and Angelina by the waists and pull them down to the floor with her as Grell’s chainsaw stabbed the wall that would have been Madame Red’s chest if she hadn’t pull down her with them.

“Sebastian!” Ciel shouted as Grell attempted his attack again and they were vulnerably trapped in between the psychotic Death God and the wall. Sebastian grabbed the Death God by the ruff of his shirt and threw him over to the other side of the wall.

“Don’t hesitate! Hurry up and finish him!”

Heaving herself up, she checked the unconscious Angelina for any fatal wounds. Fortunately, the scythe had missed her only by an inch and the weapon has only managed to sever the ends of their hairs and the black and red strands were scattered like feathers. Clenching her trembling fingers into a fist, she turned to Ciel, “A-are you ok?”

“I’m fine.” Ciel dismissed in nonchalant manner. His eyes scanned her up and down, “Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, I-I’m ok.” She lied.

A polished black oxford came into her view, her eyes travelling up the trousers cladded long legs up to his suited chest until she met his glass rimmed eyes. Yuri quickly got up pulling Ciel along with her as she acknowledged the Death God in front of her.

“You’re…William?” She had forgotten his last name and knew him more by his first hence the awkward familiarity.

“Are you all injured?” He asked as his sharp eyes detachedly scanned the three in front of him.

She shook her head as Ciel narrowed his eyes and stepped forward protectively in passive aggressive manner.

“Who are you?” He demanded, “Don’t tell me you’re like him.”

Before he could answer Ciel’s question, the red haired Death God crashed onto the stone ground with a violent crack, just few feet away from them, bloodied and utterly defeated, his impact creating notable sized crater around and beneath him. A normal human being would and could not have survived such fall but the fallen man groaned and stirred in great pain. Yuri felt sick and had to swallow the acidic lump back down. She looked away.

Sebastian was without mercy, wielding Grell’s own weapon as he swung back to deliver a fatal blow to Grell’s skull, William’s own scythe that was pruner, rather dull in colour. She thought the monotonous shade of his weapon suited his serious disposition. Sebastian looked displeased by the untimely interruption as he eyed William with those cold, calculating gaze. Walking past her and Ciel, one of his shoes came to rest on Grell’s head, drilling it further into the ground with his supernatural strength.

William sighed, exasperated by the commotion his subordinate was making. This only meant more paperwork and pressure from the higher-ups on his seeming incompetence on disciplinary. Retracting his weapon to his side, he introduced himself in a civil manner, “I am William T. Spears of the Dispatch Management Division of the Death Gods. I am here to pick up this Death God.” William nodded toward the man under his foot.

Opening a book in his other hand, he read out the number of offences committed, “Dispatch member Grell Sutcliff, you have broken the rules. Firstly, you have killed people whose names are not listed on the Death List, and also, you used your scythe without permission and even modified it without following proper procedures.” With one last stomp to Grell’s head, he dragged him away with a pull of his red hair, “Please return to the main branch to submit your reflection letter and report.”

“Hey! Wait a moment!!” He managed out even with his bloodied face and battered lips, “I was almost killed just now!! You are so cold and unfeeling––“

“Shut up.” He intoned, using his hair as a momentum to throw him over his shoulder and onto the ground. The nonchalance in his violence and the indifference in which Ciel and Sebastian regarded the scene greatly disturbed her.

William turned, bowed before handing a small rectangular plastic card onto Sebastian’s palms, “Oh, this is my name card. This thing has caused you a lot of trouble this time round.” Then he seemed to mutter something under his breath with a distasteful look on his face and for a moment the temperature seemed to drop as Sebastian’s expression darkened. As William turned his back on Sebastian to leave with Grell, with a flick of his arm too quick for anyone to see, Grell’s chainsaw chattered toward William. Much to her surprise and shock, the chainsaw stopped in mid-air and vibrated violently between his index and third fingers.

They exchanged stares and she thought the airs around them slowly evaporated until there was no breathable molecule.

“..You left this behind.” Sebastian kindly said with a cordial smile.

“Thank you. In that case, I shall take my leave.” William and Grell disappeared within the darkness of the alley.

Sebastian sighed before turning his attention to his master, “My apologies, I allowed the other one to escape.”

“Forget it.” He muttered as he stared at unconscious Angelina, safe and unharmed, “It’s not important anymore.”

“You two must be cold. Let us quickly make our way back to the city’s mansion. I will prepare some hot milk.”

Ciel took a swaying step and Sebastian reached out as support but he put his hand up to stop him.

“I can stand by myself. I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”

“I remembered specifically telling you lying to me won’t be tolerated.” His sharp tone of his voice sent a chill down her spine.

Yuri gulped, unable to look at him in the eye. Despite her being taller than him physically, she has never felt so small, “..I-I know…but I just couldn’t–I didn’t want to be the one telling you Madame Red was responsible for…them.”

“How much do you know about me? Us? This world?” She couldn’t see his face, having turned his back on her as he stared out the window of his study. His hands, tightly curled into balls, were beginning to turn unhealthy white in colour.

“Um..”

“Tell me!” He banged his fist against the window and for a moment, she was scared that it would shatter under the force. There was a desperation and…fear in his voice, as if she was withholding her knowledge of a dark secret he harboured.

“I don’t know much! You’ve got to believe me, I-I only knew about your aunt being responsible for the murders. Just that, a-a-and that something about the Undertaker being untrustworthy..”

“Undertaker?” His head slightly turned but she still couldn’t make out his expressions.

“I just know you shouldn’t trust him too much.” She said, “I remember he was doing something…some sort of experiments.”

“Experiments?”

“With the bodies I mean. I think.” She narrowed her eyes as she desperately tried to catch flashes of information in her mind.

“Bodies?” He paused, “Is that all?”

Yuri wished she paid attention to her friend’s then-insignificant blabbering, or had some sort of drama world miracle where the main character would remember vital information in the time of desperate needs. But as the life would have it, her mind remained blank despite the extensive internal search.

“No…but if I remember it…”

“You’re useless.”

Yuri’s eyes narrowed sharply and her lips pursed tightly and her tempers flared. A breathy laughter left her mouth.

“Am I your puppet? Your chess piece? Without me, your aunt would have died; I saved her. If I hadn’t, you’d have been walking the aisle of your aunt’s funeral!”

He turned around, his face set in stone, “You’re right. You’re my chess piece. You weren’t foolishly mistaken I offered you my home in an altruistic gesture, were you? I thought you were well aware our relationship is solely based on business. I asked you to do your part, which is helping me! Not Madame Red, not anyone! You simply failed to do your part sufficiently. Do you have anything else to say?”

“Yeah I have something to say.” Yuri retorted, fully knowing the question was rhetorical and he expected her quiet and docile, “Who do you think you are to judge someone like that?! Useful or useless, is that what people are to you? You, who ––out of pure luck–– were born with a golden spoon in his mouth and lived life so easily up to now, don’t have the right.”

The paper underneath his fingers crumpled, trembling as his eyes widened with rage. “Are you done talking? How dare you…”

She returned the glare with all the anger she could muster, displaying a kind of resiliency that resembled the movement of small waves of water as they echoed across the surface of a calm sea,  “Not everyone acts like you just because they get hurt. What’s the point of having all that money and title? What’s the use in being covered in expensive custom designed clothes from head to toe? You as a person need to be high class!” She took a step forward, her chest puffed up with confidence, “And I’m much older than you –– watch how you talk to your elders! I’m so embarrassed I can’t even lift my head up every time you open that mouth in front of others! It’s disgusting, you two-faced, materialistic, self-absorbed brat.”

She hated nothing more than waiting to hear his reply which would probably be her body six feet under and a nameless tombstone. She might even be lucky if she had a tombstone. Probably not. Her feet carried her to her room and she pulled out her bags from the bottom of the bed and was about to head back out when the door stopped half way. Yuri glanced back at the room, her breathing still rough from unleashing her diatribe just few minutes ago.

She dumped the luxurious furniture on the pawnbrokers table, “I want a nice deal.”

The old man, Tobias, adjusted his glasses as he picked up a small gold hand mirror, examining it under the dim light.

“These ar’ quite expensive item y’got there.” He suspiciously said then gave her his firm glare, “I don’ buy any stolen goods.”

“It’s not stolen,” She lied, “I ran away from home.” Quick thinking, “They tryna sell me off to this old guy that I have to pretend to love and be physically attracted to. He taught me that regardless of age or height, anybody can be a life hating sociopath, y’know.”

The man frowned, regarding her dubiously, “Socio-whut?”

Maybe she got carried away too much. Waving her hand dismissively, she said, “Never mind, I just need to be far away from that house.”

He perused through the priceless trinkets, his eyes scanning her clothes in a blasé manner as if trying to search for lies in her story. Thankfully, her attire happened to be one of the expensive ones from her room’s closet because Mey-Rin’s dresses were all in the washing. It was plainer and lesser ostentatious ones in both design and colour, but from a quick superficial glance, she looked from a well-off family.

“I’ll give ya a good deal.” He said as he took them back into door behind the counter, “But I’ll warn ya, ya won’t last long with this if this is all you have. Ya better go back home and just do as ya parents tell ya and live a comfy life, unless ya wanna work like those girls out there.”

Yuri looked out the window to realise he meant the prostitutes, eyeing their potential customers among the walking passersby with a flirty smiles. She simply smiled, shrugging his concerns as she inwardly thought that it was still a work and they were just trying to get by with what they can. They had more independence and freedom than those people laughing and eating caviar with their champagne up in their little castle anyway.

“I’m more of a live fast, die hard type of girl.” She said, earning another quirked look from the owner.

He slid a five pound note to her. Yuri frowned, unable to separate modern world currency and the era she was in. The five pound in her world would have probably brought her a meal deal or some snacks. She didn’t know how far five pound would go in this world.

“That’s all I can afford, girl. These items are far too expensive for me to buy at its right price. Ya’d have a much better luck in ‘em auction.” He shook his head when he noticed her frowning, mistaking her confusion and flustering for ungratefulness.

“No, it’s fine. I was thinking about something.” She took the note, “Thanks.”

He eyed her bags, “Interesting bags ya got there.”

“Thanks. It’s a gift from mum.” She gave him a final smile before walking out.

Deeply inhaling as she stared onto the grim side of the London, flocked with destitute and crime; now what was she going to do? A tear silently trickled down her cheek. No use in crying, she thought. She headed down the road, toward the dock.

Yuri had propped herself on one of many wooden storage box scattered among the dock as she watched many faces passing by. Unwarping one of the sweet, the maker’s name read ‘Funtom’ and immediately felt her appetite drop. She clenched her eyes, cursing the fact she chose, out of all sweets available in the shop that she chose his company’s product. For a second, she contemplated in throwing away the chocolate before taking a bite out. In the end, her hunger had won.

“..Well, it’s delicious…” She muttered, “But 2 shillings for this? What a rip off! If McDonald exists here, it’d be less expensive than this piece of diabetes!” She ripped the bar with her teeth, imagining the chocolate was the brat’s head.

Her eyes wondered back to the oncoming ships. Many of them were fishermen, some passersby, others were travellers that had recently returned and others were departing. She was content musing herself with novelty of 19th century scenery when she heard an odd cry, clearly in distress, a distance away. A woman, bare except for few flimsy course materials for decency, and chained in rows, trembled on the ground as a rather large man stood, imposing with a whip in his hand. It took a moment for her to realise she was seeing slavery first hand. Her jaw dropped, flabbergasted, as she stared, wide eyed, and found herself darting off to the direction with the chocolate in hand.

“WHAT YOU DOING?!” She yelled.

The whole world seems to still in shock, their heads turned toward the outburst.

“What are you doing?!” Yuri repeated, standing in front of the quivering children, women and men.

The man, caught off guard, quickly recovered and pushed her away, “None of your business, wretch!”

“Wretch?!” Yuri glowered as the man raised his whip holding hand once again, “Stop unless you want this wretch to cut your hands off!”

The man faltered.

“Who are you to treat her like that, you dumb shit of fat fucking donkey with a face of a blobfish!” She growled.

The man stuttered at the vulgarity of her insults, “Watch your mouth, bitch! They’re slaves and they’re my property.”

“No matter how blind you’ve become with greed, you should at least have some moral! Do you think people are things to be bought and sold?! How can you sleep at night?!! If I were your mum, I’d be fucking ashamed to even lift my face! Your existence is as significant as a pigeon shit in Trafalgar Square!”

The man’s face was becoming more red as if he were suffocating and about to pass out at the climbing blood pressure. Then his arm pulled back, the whip building its momentum and Yuri acted fast. Her leg swung up to kick him in his family jewel. Immediately, his face scrunched up in pain, knees locked in and stumbled back. It was clear, his subordinates and others were content watching in the back as the scene unfold than intervene. It meant good and bad––that meant she won’t be outnumbered but on the other hand, she was on her own to get out of this messy situation and the blobfish didn’t look like he was going to walk away with a tail between his legs without a good fight.

The man groaned in pain, clutching the area as he used his free hand to point at her, “What you useless dunce standing around for! Grab her!”

They seemed to snap out of the stupor as the two men hooked her arms with theirs, sandwiching her in the middle. She desperately wiggled in their grab, bringing her legs up to her chest in effort to bring them down with the gravity but her weight was more than light for two grown men to support and she just remained there, awkwardly dangled.

“STOP RIGHT THERE!” A loud voice intervened.

Our heads all turned to the source; two Indian men, dressed in their decorative traditional garbs. One looked to be her age with long, dark wavy hair worn loose to his shorter; part held up by gold clip, the other was much more taller and although, young, were much mature looking with short, stark pale hair.

“Unhand her!” The shorter man ordered.

“Get outta here, brat! None of your business!” The slave master held up his whip as a warning before turning his attention to her.

“You will pay for this.” He growled, “And I’ll make sure ya forever regret this day.”

“Did it hurt? Fucking sue me.” She spat.

Before the man could land a slap, in the blink of an eye, the taller man appeared behind him, grabbed his wrist and twisted it back painfully. He yelped out, calling for help and other workers darted toward him. In swift, lethal movements, the fifteen men, including the ones holding her hostage, were all lying, some motionless and some groaning, around the taller Indian man. She couldn’t identify what style of fighting it was other than he seemed to target, what some she recollected as pressure points and limiting gravitating from his centre point. Having fallen along with them when they had relinquished their support, she looked up to the tall man as he approached and helped her stand up.

“Are you alright?” He asked, kindness radiating from his voice and expression.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks.”

“What had happened?” The teenager asked, “Why were you fighting?”

“Because he was about to hit her!” She explained while pointing to the chained people instead, “Then had the audacity to think he has a right to do that like they are some..things!”

The young boy blinked, then quiet. “Agni.”

“Yes, my prince.”

Yuri’s eyes widened like a deer caught in a headlight, backing away from the boy, Prince?

“Free them.”

“Yes, my prince.” The taller man, now known as Agni, retrieved the key from the slave master’s pocket and began to unlock the chains.

“Hey! They are mine! I brought them!”

The young prince took out a few notes and trinkets and dropped them in front of him. Our eyes widened a little more.

“This should be more than enough.”

The man quickly gathered up the money and gems into his arms, and stood up, glaring at her.

“Fuck off.” Yuri bared her teeth.

The slaver master reacted as if to hit but then the young prince cleared his throat and the man shrugged as he walked away, ignoring his subordinates.

“Thanks for your help.” She said.

“No problem.” The teenage prince nodded, “I’m Soma Asman Gandal, but you can simply call me Lord Soma or prince.”

“Yeah, and I’m princess Yuri Park of Alderaan(!)”

He frowned, “I never heard of such place.”

“Look, ‘prince’, thank you for saving me and all but just what kind of idiot do you think I am? Prince? What are you a prince of? Prince of Bengal?” Yuri giggled, finding the whole situation ridiculous, “Look, I don’t have time for role play; I just need to find a way to get these people home.”

“But I am a prince of Bengal…” Soma muttered.

“Lady Park, this person is the 26th child to the King of the princely state of Bengal, prince Soma Asman Gnadal.” Agni pressed sincerely.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She dismissed them with a wave of her hand. Kneeling down to the woman, wondering if she could speak English she asked, “Are you ok?”

The woman, rightfully weary and scared, flinched away from her touch. She mumbled something quiet under her breath that she couldn’t quite hear. Everyone didn’t speak up. Either they were too scared or they were taught not to speak.

“Hey, blopfish!”

“What?!” The man, much to her surprise, answered with irritation.

“What the fuck did you do to them?!”

“I did nothing, bitch!”

“You obviously did something! Don’t you dare give me that ‘they were born mute’ crap!”

“You are a one loony bitch!”

“I’ll shoot you and say you fell in the sea!”

The man tensed up, hugging the money and trinket in his arms like a father finding his lost child.

“Where did you take them from?”

“We didn’t take them –– they came on their own! To make money.”

“Don’t give me that crap, not even a Trump supporter would believe that–– where are they from?!”

“…Barbados.”

Yuri turned to Soma, who had shuffled away during her little scuffle with the master, “Uh, I hope you can help them return home.”

“O-oh…of course but I’m looking for someone at the moment and––.”

“Awesome. Let’s plan what we need to do.”

It turned out sending back free slaves back home weren’t as simple and straightforward as they hoped. She was reluctant to believe the blopfish’s words and there was no guarantee they would actually return home and not be snatched away by another slave master in the duration. She was happy she managed to get one man to confirm they were from Barbados and it was left to them to find a way to get them home before the night fall. The winter nights were the most dangerous killer to the poor and the unfortunate.

Soma seemed restless the whole time as if he had somewhere to be while Agni was distressed at the sight of it.

“We can simply pay for someone to sail them back home, yes?” Soma suggested.

“Yeah, but it’s expensive.”

“I have the money.”

Although they did look rich, she was still suspicious about them being a prince and a servant.

“You said you’re looking for someone right?” Yuri asked.

They nodded.

“I’ll help you find her if you help me with this. I’ll owe you.”

That’s all that was needed for Soma to immediately have the ship ready to sail back to Barbados. Apparently the guy was very rich. And powerful. The helmsman were given half of the full payment and were promised the remaining half when they came back and presented an evidence.

Yuri took the man, who seemed to be the speaker for all his fellows, and gave him instructions. Handing him a blank piece of paper, she told him to draw a star if they arrived at their home country or numbers aligned with the alphabets naming the country they’ve arrived. The man nodded, “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” She said, “I hope you get home safely.”

Then he handed her something, “She wanted me to give this to you.”

It was a simple handmade wooden and raisin bead bracelet with carved with various animals like grasshopper, birds and mongoose.

“It’s for good luck.”

“Thank you.” Yuri said before handing her own belonging, a spare chocolate she brought earlier on.

She watched as they began to board, this time as free men. The woman glanced back and Yuri waved goodbye. She could only pray that they arrive home safe and sound. She hoped she could find her way home quickly too.

“Her name is Nina.” He handed her a poorly drawn portrait of what it seemed to be a woman. They were currently in an inn for the night. After paying five shilling for her room and stay, she was left with a little over four pounds.

“Well, you’re not gonna find Nina with this piece of paper, that’s for sure.” Shaking head, she flapped the paper in her hand, “You’re supposed to be the prince and you can’t even afford a decent painter?”

“Hey! I believe Nina’s beautiful features are well presented in this portrait!” He asserted with a prideful puff of his chest, “Even my teachers applauded my painting skills!”

She took a bite of her chip and looked at him absurdly, “Were they blind?”

“Hey! You still don’t believe I’m a prince do you?!” Soma pouted.

“A prince who can’t afford a decent painter? I rather believe climate changes aren’t real!”

“What is a climate change?” Agni frowned, puzzled.

“Something that is apparently now a subject of controversy of whether it exist or not. Don’t worry, not many people gets it either.” Yuri commented, “Anyway, so why are you looking for her?”

“She was one of my maids and she was forcibly taken away to England! I came to retrieve her.”

“Ok…so she’s like your girlfriend? The Bollywood version of Romeo and Juliet kind of thing?”

“Your way of speech is so…”

“21st century?” She finished it for him.

“What?”

“I’m saying is she your lover?”

Soma and Agni gasped at the implication and Agni stepped in. “He had known her ever since he was a young child and she were his nanny. To him, she is a family. A lost family, which is why he had come to find her.”

“Family, huh…” Her voice wavered, the portrait blurring into the image of her family photo hung up in their home living room. Yuri cleared her throat and studied the portrait again. “Um, I know a guy, he’s an arsehole but I’m sure he’ll help you if you’re a ‘prince’.”

“Wonderful!” Soma sighed in relief, “Thank you, Yuri.”

“Princess Alderaan.” She corrected.

“Are you really a princess?”

“No.” She laughed.

The two men looked at each other before they laughed along. The small pub inside the inn glowed warmly in the candle lit light and freckles of snow began to fall outside in the dark winter night. Yuri was momentarily captivated at the sight out of the window. The winter has arrived.

[grelleswife]

I could see other ladies that are questioning or definitely aware of being into other ladies like Meyrin and Sieglind looking at Grelle and Madam Red for advice and stuff ❤️

If Madame Red had lived, I can easily envision the doctor taking Sieglinde under her wing. An intelligent, driven young lady in STEM? Even if Siggy wasn’t already friends with her nephew, Angelina would have immediately declared herself the girl’s surrogate auntie. So imagine that, one day, Madame is visiting Sieglinde’s lab to discuss the German prodigy’s latest research findings. However, she notices that the girl seems distracted, absentmindedly fidgeting with a set of forceps while gazing off at nothing in particular. Sieglinde eventually lapses into silence before blurting out, “Auntie An…when did you realize you had feelings for Auntie Grelle?” (In this AU, Grelle and Madame abandoned their murderous escapades in favor of a relatively peaceful life together) All in a rush, the girl explains that she thinks she might have a crush on Lizzy. She’s never felt this way about anyone before…but how on earth is she supposed to classify these baffling new emotions? And then Madame sits Sieglinde down, patiently answering her questions and assuring her protégée that she can always count on her love and support.

I can also see Mey Rin asking Grelle for relationship advice over tea, pouring her heart out to the reaper. Maybe she’s about to go on her first date with Paula (Paulamey is cute and valid, and that’s a hill on which I’m fully prepared to die), but she’s nervous as can be, yes she is! What’s the proper decorum for the beginning of a courtship? What should she wear? Where should they go on their first outing—and how do they fly under the radar of bigots who might take umbrage at their relationship? The glamorous goddess is happy to share her wisdom with darling Mey Mey, even helping her pick out a dress and assisting with hair and makeup for the special evening.

OR…perhaps an extremely flustered Mey seeks Grelle’s counsel on a different matter: Confessing to a certain lady. She’s beautiful, witty, strong, and perfect as can be, yes she is! The maid fears that the object of her affections will surely turn her down, as she probably has an army of suitors clamoring at her door, she does, but Mey Rin’s determined to shoot her shot! 😤 Miss Sutcliff encourages the mortal not to despair—one ought to be bold when it comes to matters of love! “And don’t sell yourself short, darling; whoever your fair lady might be, she’s a lucky woman,” the reaper adds, a touch of wistfulness clouding her brilliant green eyes. Mey Rin blushes—little does Grelle suspect that she’s the very woman the maid’s been pining after!

[the-letter-horror-lover]

Apples & Arsenic

KittehBoesternchen

Summary:

Since the demise of his parents, Ciel's aunt has kept him locked up inside and taken over everything he held dear. He manages to run away to try to save himself, his family name and fortune, on the night the maid is certain Ann will make away with the Phantomhive heir.

Fortunately for Ciel, the circus is in town and headed right where he wants to go. Unfortunately, he doesn't have any circus skills.

But the circus's director, a tall dark (handsome) man named Sebastian, takes pity on and a liking to him.

A chase begins, halfway across the country, with death waiting spectacularly at every turn.

Notes:

Guys! So!! I got way too excited again and am posting this early, much earlier than I thought I would. As some of you guessed, yes, this plot will very loosely follow the plot of Snow White. I also already stated in the later chapters of BotB that con season starts, so updates will probably be a bit slower than with the last story.

This being said, enjoy!! And I love hearing your thoughts and opinions! <3

Chapter 1: Far into the Forest

Chapter Text

Run

Ciel’s breath was hard and burned like fire in his chest.

Run, Ciel, you have to go

Gasping for air was loud and painful but he kept on running, sneakers hitting the concrete like claps of thunder.

She will kill you, Ciel, run

The maid’s urgent whispers still rang in his ears. It couldn’t be true, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

RUN!

He took a left at the end of the driveway and another left turn which would lead him onto the forest path close to the manor. Once he deemed the darkness around him deep enough, he allowed himself to stop, all but collapsing into a bed of ferns, dry heaves shaking his small frame. The cocktail party aunt Ann was throwing was still in full tilt. No one was missing him yet – especially since he wasn’t actually invited to the party. He’d merely used the party as a diversion to flee once Mey-Rin had unlocked the door of his bedroom and ushered him out of the house via the servants’ pathways. He wore shoes and a jacket, a bit of money tucked into the inner pocket. He hadn’t dared to bring his cell phone out of fear Ann could have it traced. He had remembered to bring his inhalator, at least.

Every rustle made him tense and hold his breath until he was gasping, coughing, fingers scrabbling at the cord around his neck until he could push his inhalator between his lips and inhale, deeply. Immediately, the scratching and squeezing in his chest stopped. Drops of cold sweat ran down his temples and wetted the hair curling around his ears. The moment Ann noticed he was gone, she would send her pet maniac after him. Ciel shuddered at the mere memory of the scarlet haired man. Grell was aloof enough towards him, barely even noticing him usually, but the sight of that shark grin, teeth filed to horrible points was still giving him nightmares. Every cry of an owl now was sounding a lot like the revving of a chainsaw to Ciel, making him duck deeper into his ferns.

There were no called out taunts though, no blade swiping over his head. Nothing but the settling night and all its inhabitants coming out and going about their business.

Ciel sagged back. Now what? The money he had managed to hide wasn’t enough to sustain him. He owned nothing but the clothes on his back – if you didn’t count the hefty trust fund he couldn’t access until the matter of his parents’ will wasn’t settled. If he ran, he would miss the appointment with the notary and solicitor. If he didn’t…well, he was sure Mey-Rin hadn’t been exaggerating. If she had chosen this particular night to scurry him out of the manor, she must have overheard something. He was a bright boy usually, even hidden away as he was, and…ah.

He smiled lightly, raising his head over the tips of the ferns again. If he could make it to the appointment, he could relay his version of this story. It was two weeks from now, Angelina had told him in passing, in the notary’s office in Dover. Right now, he was just outside of London, which made a distance of just short of a hundred miles. Quick by car of train, but Ciel had to ration his funds. If he drove down to Dover immediately, there would be little left over for lodging or food and he didn’t know how well the solicitor would take his story. Angelina had been sure not to bother any of his father’s friends in this topic; Ciel didn’t know the man.

That left walking. Ciel sighed and got up, brushing off his pants. At least he wore warm clothes. He didn’t dare run anymore, his strength had to be rationed as well. First stop would be London, of course, if only to find a Tesco and buy breakfast as cheaply as possible. Ciel had been sheltered before, but never kept inside forcefully like in the last three years. He wasn’t even sure if the townhouse still belonged to the family – or where exactly it was. This would take some careful planning. And he really didn’t want to walk all the way to Dover. Following the faint lights he could see through the trees, he was soon out of the woods on the other side of the bit of forest surrounding many of the manors of British nobility, a class he belonged to by principle. Not that he felt much like it.

Fate did him one better. Down at the base of the hill, just at the outskirts of London glittering around the broad band of the Thames, spotlights did slow turns around a large, colorful tent surrounded by smaller tents and a short train of transporters. A crowd had gathered at the entrance to the fenced off areal, waiting for the show to begin.

Ciel smiled slowly. The circus was in town.

**

“This is so odd”, sighed the freckled girl when the show was over and everyone was in the large tent behind the show arena where the crew usually spent their time off. “I know I had some biscuits here. Someone must have taken them from my plate.”

“Guys, my cup has been used”, the tall man beside her sighed, pushing his mass of dyed-orange hair back. “You know I don’t like it when someone drinks from it!”

“We were all out in the show, Joker, calm your tits”, grumbled the woman in the tight corset. “It wasn’t one of us.”

“Someone moved my chair!”

“I can’t find my knife…”

“Guys”, said the tall, bald man. “It seems someone was here that wasn’t supposed to get back here. An intruder.”

“An intruder?!”

“How?”

“Who could it be?”

“I am going to ask Sebastian what to do”, said the freckled girl and got up from where she had sat, staring mournfully at her empty plate.

“He isn’t back yet though, is he?”, asked the small brunette girl in a voice that sounded too old for her little frame. “Although if he is, he’s probably in his tent, Doll.”

The freckled girl nodded with determination and strode off towards the tents that housed the crew members. Each had their own, each a different color and always put up in a tight circle around a pure black one. The one in the middle belonged to Sebastian, who was with all intents and purposes the owner and director of the circus. Towards the dark one Doll hurried, pulling aside the tent flap. “Sebastian?” She didn’t get an immediate answer, but there was someone laying on the cot put against one wall of the tent in the darkness of the tent. Frowning, she crept inside quietly. Whoever it was, it was unlikely this was Sebastian…for one, the director was much taller, and second, he would never just go to sleep without telling anyone he was back. She reached for her phone clipped to her belt and pushed the button to turn on the screen, using the dim light to find her way around towards the cot.

Curled up on it lay a slight boy in socks, jeans and a big hoodie, with a face as pretty as a girl’s. She blinked at the sneakers on the floor…and spotted crumbs on one sleeve. So this was the biscuit thief, at least. Rocking back on her heels, she frowned and sucked on her lower lip in thought. Without making a move towards the boy, she turned and walked back out, carefully closing the flap. If there was someone sleeping in Sebastian’s tent, it would be best if she waited until the director was back to ask him lest she throw out a friend of his. That would not go over well.

Doll returned to her toggle of friends, telling them only Sebastian wasn’t back yet.

**

Ciel stirred with a small hum when his bangs were brushed back from his forehead. He blinked sleepily into the dimness above him and jerked back when he found someone standing over the cot he had curled up on.

After finding the circus, he had skidded and slipped down the hill, getting his sneakers even muddied in the process. There was no cover on his way down so he had hurried, resulting in him scraping a long, lightly bleeding welt against his shin when he had tripped and fallen to hands and knees; the balls of his palm were scraped and ached as well. Once at the bottom of the hill, he had hurried into the crowd of tents, only then casting a fearful, panicked look behind himself.

The line of trees stood dark and quiet, sentinels at the grounds line of the Phantomhive estate. There was no flash of red hair, no gleam off of a metal blade. There was no one following him.

Ciel sighed in relief and loosened his grip on the laminated fabric of the tent. Slowly, he ventured deeper into the circus grounds. He didn’t encounter anyone; not with the show almost starting, everyone was busy. He found a tent that had one wall completely rolled up that had tables and benches in it…and on those tables…

Ciel’s stomach growled loudly in protest. The prospect of food alone made him feel faint, so he chanced only a guilty look around before snatching the biscuits off the plate and shoving them into his mouth. Chewing furiously, he spotted a cup a bit away and reached for it, gulping deeply to force down the dry crumbs. There was a strange, almost sour taste to the liquid in the cup but lunch had been hours ago and he had had to leave when Mey-Rin had brought him dinner because only then she had been given the key to his bedroom. There hadn’t been time to eat or even grab it before she had hustled him out of the manor. He put the cup back and turned, knocking a chair back a bit when he ran right into it. Something clattered from the table to the ground. Ciel fled the scene and chose the darkest tent to hide. His belly was barely filled, so the wine he had drunk went straight to his head.

Hiding from possible psychos chasing him turned into a nap.

And now he was staring up into warm but curious garnet eyes, throat constricting with panic. “Someone’s sleeping in my bed”, the man murmured with a private smile, as if quoting something Ciel didn’t know. The boy squirmed off the bed, only to be caught. “Easy. It’s alright, you won’t be punished.” Ciel stared up again with huge, blue eyes, darkened with panic. “NO, you need to let me go, I need to….I….” He swayed in the grip, suddenly dizzy. Sitting down, now that the man gently nudged him back onto the cot, didn’t seem like a bad idea right now. “What’s your name, little one?”, asked the man kindly, lowering himself to one knee so they were almost face-to-face. The man was really tall, Ciel noticed.

“I’m…” There had been a time in which Ciel had stated his name happily and proudly, aware of the tight net of family to catch him should he fall. That had been before a freak accident had killed both his parents and Aunt Ann had been given custody over him. That was before he had found out Aunt Ann was a psychopath, herself. Now, telling a stranger his name with the probability of said stranger returning him home was a terrifying prospect. “Um…”

The man smiled, stroking down his upper arm. “It’s alright. We were all runaways once”, he said, as if he had read the boy’s mind. “I’m Sebastian. You don’t have to be afraid, I won’t call the police over a few crackers.”

“Ciel”, he replied in a small voice. Surely only his given name wouldn’t give his identity away. “But…um…I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone.” Sebastian gave a small nod. “You have my word.”

There was a beat of tense silence between them, garnet locked on navy blue, before Ciel averted his eyes. His cheeks were flushed due to the alcohol he’d unwittingly drunk, lips plump from being bitten with nerves. “I’m sorry…”

“No. No, you don’t have to be sorry. Joker’s cup can be cleaned, and biscuits can be replaced. Though you…” Sebastian looked at him thoughtfully. “Do you need a place to stay, or were you just passing through?” Large blue eyes turned back to him, luminous in the porcelain face. “Would you let me stay? You’re leaving this area soon, yes?”

“We’ll pack up two days from now; get to the other side of London, then south along the coast. We’re taking the Dover ferry in two weeks, our tour continues through France.” He smiled easily. “Why, did you want to come along?” Frantic nodding answered that question.

It was near perfect, although it would probably take too long to get down to Dover to take part in the appointment. If he turned up a little later, however, and talked to the notary, maybe something could be altered still. How better to hide than here on his way; he wouldn’t have to walk or hike and he probably would be fed. And once he was the heir to his parents’ legacy again, he could easily reimburse them a hundred times over. “I always wanted to join the circus”, he told the kind man sweetly. “I ran into some trouble here so there’s a change of plans in my life…quite abruptly so.” Sebastian chuckled. “You will have to try out, but that can be done tomorrow. The tests aren’t that hard and you can stay until then. Now. Are you hungry?”

Ciel’s belly answered that question for them both.

**

“Guys, this is…”, Sebastian started and trailed off at the tug on his sleeve. Looking down, he found those huge eyes look back up at him with fear etched into them; Ciel was terrified of anyone finding out his name, that much was obvious. “…Smile. He’s very sorry he caused all that confusion earlier, but he’ll be staying with us for a while.”

“Will he try out?”, Beast asked, one of her thin brows arches. “If he doesn’t pass, I can still feed him to Betty.”

“That’s her tiger”, chirped the tiny brunette girl. Ciel blanched. “Her…tiger?”

“Beast is our animal trainer”, Sebastian explained, fixing the woman with a firm look. “And she was kidding. Wasn’t she.” The woman just rolled her eyes and leaned back into the man next to her. “This is Joker, he’s an expert in juggling. Peter and Wendy work the flying trapeze. Doll walks the tightrope, and Dagger handles the action-filled knife shows. Jumbo is our strongman, he usually works between shows in the attractions exhibit.”

“What do you do?”, Ciel asked.

“Yes, what IS it that you do?”, Wendy chimed in with a giggle. Sebastian chuckled. “I make sure we don’t starve. Speaking of. Dinner?”

Dinner turned out to be a raucous affair. It was almost eleven at night and the commons tent was filled to capacity; Ciel was snugged in between Sebastian and Doll, who kept drawing him into light conversations with her calm voice. Yet the closer the clock ticked to midnight, the more nervous Ciel became.

He felt when the clock finally did strike midnight, he could hear his aunt’s enraged roar echoing over the valley.

No one else heard anything, apparently.

Ciel was given to Doll after dinner although he dutifully helped clean up the commons tent first. Doll’s tent was in the inner circle but boasted two cots instead of one. She claimed she didn’t like sleeping alone usually. Ciel was just glad he could finally stretch out. His feet hurt, his scrapes hurt and there was a dull throbbing in his temples that was entirely unpleasant. The moment his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light.

Chapter 2: With a Smile and a Song

Notes:

As stated in BotB, con season starts and I'm on vacation from today until next week. I'm sorry, but I don't think a chapter will be posted in this time, but shortly after of course!

I'm very ecstatic to tell you that there could be a printed version of Beauty of the Beast very soon, with an amazing artwork as cover page. A good friend of mine offered to paint it and put the piece into print with the fictions and artworks she's having printed. Go check her work out, her FB page is www.facebook.com/YaoZaru

Let me know if you'd be interested in something like that and I'll try to make it reality. Also, as usual, feedback of all kinds is very welcome :)

Chapter Text

The day was bright and sunny and filled with dismay.

At least for Ciel it was. He didn’t quite enjoy the sun as much as the others….where the crew was calling out to each other happily, training in the sun and rolling up their sleeves, Ciel kept to the shadows cast by the tents. He had had breakfast in the sun and his ears and the tops of his shoulders were already stinging with burn.

“You’re too pale”, Sebastian chuckled when he had gone to complain to him. “I can’t turn off the sun, Ciel, I’m sorry. I believe first you need clothes that…cover you more.” Ciel glanced down at himself. His jeans were torn and dirty by now, and the shirt he wore he had worn to bed when Mey-Rin had come for him; it had cap sleeves and a wide, round collar. Looking up again, he noticed how Sebastian’s eyes were drawn to the expanse of smooth skin, following the line of his collarbone. The man cleared his throat and smiled again. “Let’s get you some, and I’ll put balm onto the burns. Don’t worry, that’ll clear right up.” When he offered Ciel his hand to take, the boy took it gladly.

Even though he had been in Sebastian’s tent before for his impromptu nap, it looked a lot different by day and when he wasn’t being hunted. Not quite as dark and ominous, less a cave he had hidden in. He could make out the cot he had had curled up on, the chests, the vanity with the large mirror each of the crew members had in their tents to prepare for the shows. The dimness inside the tent felt balmy opposed to the bright sun outside and Ciel had to blink a few times to adjust his eyes to the change. Sebastian was already bent over one chest. Ciel stared for a moment at a shapely behind and long legs, then flushed and averted his eyes. Fortunately, his blushing wouldn’t be noticeable…his face was red from the sun already.

When bid, he sat down on one of the chests close to the vanity. Sebastian flipped on the lights that were set around the mirror, making the area a little brighter, and knelt in front of him. In his hand was a palm-sized pot of something that smelled fresh and felt cool and gel-like when soft fingertips gently applied it to the bridge of his nose. Ciel watched quietly. “You’re pale as fresh cream”, Sebastian mused, spreading the gel-balm over the boy’s cheekbones to both sides, eyes on the task. His ears were next, then the cool fingers slid down his neck, keeping the touch instead of letting go and starting new where his shoulders and the curve of his nape were tinged pink. Despite the balm and his fingers being cool, Ciel felt warm – very warm. He couldn’t remember the last time someone touched him as carefully; his mother, possibly, when she still had insisted on bathing him herself. She’d stopped though when he turned ten. He had felt so mature then.

Ciel gave a minute shake of his head. Dwelling on the past wouldn’t help him in any way now. He couldn’t help the soft mew that escaped him when Sebastian brushed over the back of his neck. The darkhaired man blinked up at him in surprise. “Did that hurt? I’m sorry.” Ciel shook his head lightly again. “No, just….cold. I was in thought. It surprised me.” When Sebastian moved on to the tops of his shoulders, both of them were a little flushed.

**

“Absolutely not”, Ciel said in a deadpan tone. He was hot in the longsleeved shirt he wore to protect his delicate skin, even with how light the fabric was, his fine hair already stuck to his neck. Summer was truly awful. At least in his room, it was always comfortably cool.

His thoughts abruptly crashed to a halt. He would not wish himself back into captivity, no matter how hot it was here. Absolutely not.

He shook his head when Doll pulled at his hand. “It’s easy, come on! I’ll help you.”

“I’m not getting on that rope. No. That is way too high up! What if I fall?” The brunette groaned. “Smile, my dear, you’ll never get an act here if you don’t dare to try everything. What if you’re a natural? Huh? You could be amazing on the high rope and you’ll never know it, won’t that be sad?”

“I can still use him as fodder, you know”, Beast butted in, walking past in that moment. Ciel gave her a glower from under his bangs. “NO thanks.” The woman chuckled. “Suit yourself, Snowy.” She’d been making fun of him non-stop since he had gotten sunburnt first thing in the morning. Ciel believed he didn’t like her much.

He had already endured Dagger’s confused questions as to why he didn’t hit the target – as if he had used his time in captivity to train his muscles. Right. The daggers he’d been given were excellently balanced, the target merely ten feet away and he still didn’t manage to throw that far. Every blade had fallen to the ground, uselessly, before even coming close to the target.

Joker had tried to teach him to juggle after that. It resulted in a throbbing headache when the balls had dropped onto his head one after another instead of falling back into his palms.

He hadn’t even tried to lift Jumbo’s weights, that notion was just ridiculous.

And Beast, that mean bitch, had pushed him into the tiger cage without so much as a word, which had been terrifying. Fortunately for Ciel, Betty the tiger had been fed just a little ago and wasn’t interested in a snack. She’d merely nosed at him where he was pressed against the bars, then yawned wide and lie back down. Beast had let him out, but he’d been trembling so bad he couldn’t even stand for a while. At least he’d had the pleasure of watching Sebastian yell at her.

Sebastian himself had taken him under his wing after that, asking him if he’d help with lunch. Ciel had happily agreed, because it sounded relatively safe. Half an hour later, he had managed to reduce the potatoes by half from peeling them too thickly and the bread had burned under his watchful eye. Like honestly going up in flames. It was fine one moment and Ciel thought one more minute would be good to have the crust a little browner and then…whoosh. He’d barely gotten to save his eyebrows.

And now they wanted him to go up there. The tightrope was looming above him in a dizzying height; there was a net below it during training, but he knew by now that Doll didn’t use it when she performed. It was that prospect that terrified him most of all. “I really can’t. Please…”

“Smile”, Doll sighed and took both his shoulders, taking her hands back quickly when he winced with her squeezing his sunburn. “Look, kid, you have to do something around here if you want to stay…why are you here in the first place if you don’t want to perform?” She gentled her voice when she saw the hurt and despair cross his face. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. I just meant…why the circus? You’re not from a circus family, you don’t have any specialty. Wouldn’t something else be easier for you?”

For a moment, he was tempted to tell her everything. That his parents had died and left him millions, but the will hadn’t been opened since he wasn’t quite eighteen yet and his aunt, who was his legal guardian was a crazy bitch that would probably sacrifice him to Satan one day. Or give him to her maniac to play with. That he had run away to save his life and had to get to Dover as soon as possible and that the circus was the only way to go, that he didn’t want to be a performer. That he planned to use them for as long as they were useful, then leave.

The thought put a sour twisting in his belly. These people were nice, for the most part, had taken him in without prying into his past, only asked that he contributed to the show in return. They didn’t want money, they weren’t abusive. Ciel might have been an introvert, but he wasn’t an asshole.

“I….”, he began, looking down at the dirt between their feet. “I….ran away from home. I can’t go back. It’s not a home, anyway.”

To his surprise, Doll smiled at him. “So did I.”

“You did?” Doll shrugged, pulling him aside so others could more easily pass through the tent flap. “Yeah. Isn’t that the cliché? Runaway kids always head for the circus. Dead pets, too, that’s what your parents tell you. Because they love you, I guess, and don’t want you hurt. All that doesn’t count when you grew up in an orphanage and a dozen foster homes.” She shook her head when pity crossed his face and his mouth opened. “No, don’t. It’s okay. Just know, I understand where you’re coming from. I know it’s not easy.”

Humbled, Ciel sagged a little. He’d been so preoccupied with his own problems that he hadn’t even thought about how others would have ended up here. “Sebastian’s really nice”, he replied softly in return. “He sure is!” Doll said happily. “Now, about that rope? Let’s start with a lower one, come on. Don’t look at me like that, I wouldn’t have put you up there on your first try!” Ciel grumbled. “Could have fooled me…”

The lower tightrope was a mere foot above the ground. Ciel took a deep breath and steeled himself; he wouldn’t hurt himself if he dropped from there. The ground was soft with grass and the sawdust they had sprinkled liberally over it. He set his foot onto the rope, shifted his weight onto it…

And dropped to the floor on the other side, face first into the sawdust. Behind him, Doll laughed raucously.

Ciel found himself smiling in return.

**

“Well…”, Sebastian sighed softly as Ciel sat on that chest again after the show, wincing as more balm was put over his sunburn as well as a dozen scrapes along his arms and legs. There was a bruise on his hip that throbbed with his heartbeat, his knees looked like he’d been dragged behind a car and he thought he’d twisted his ankle. “I suppose you haven’t found your calling yet?” Ciel shook his head mutely, looking down. Surely the man would send him away; he wasn’t useful at all. Instead, Sebastian lifted his face and brushed his bangs away from his eyes, looking thoughtful. “You’re not the most athletic person, pardon me for saying”, he told him gently. Ciel had to nod, he really wasn’t. “I’ve been thinking about where to apply you all day”, the director continued, a fingertip smoothing balm over the bruise high on his forehead where the juggling balls had hit him. “It’s unbecoming to rough you up every day just to force you into something you don’t want. So I thought…maybe we can put you in the sideshows. You know, where Jumbo works, to entertain the patrons before the show starts.”

“I tried the weights”, Ciel replied in a small voice. “I couldn’t-“

“No”, Sebastian interrupted. “No weights, goodness, no. But I believe I have the perfect thing for you.” He left him sitting there and got up, walked to another chest to open it, and pulled out clothing. A costume, by the looks of it, deep blue and cream, frills and valances, something his aunt would have loved if only it had been red. The cut was flattering, but….”This is a dress”, Ciel noted even as he held out a hand to feel the fabric. “It is, yes. In older times, the sideshows included artists that were able to stay very, very still in their costumes, like dolls or statues, only moving their posture every now and then. I believe that would be great for you.” He smiled at him. “Will you try it?”

Ciel looked at the dress in his hands, stroked the fine, silky fabric. Dark blue silk and grey brocade, a hint of cream white petticoat. “I can be very still”, he replied. “I had to, when…” Sebastian smiled gently when he trailed off. “Wanna tell me what all this is about? Because I don’t quite believe you always wanted to join the circus.” The man was more perceptive than Ciel had calculated. He dropped his eyes again. “I can’t…”

“I’m sure that’s not true. Hey, look at me…” Gentle fingers lifted his chin so dark crystal eyes met up with garnet ones halfway. “I won’t send you away, and I won’t turn you in if you don’t want to. But I believe I have the right to know what happened and just who you are, don’t you think? If I let you come along, I mean?” It took a moment of consideration, but Ciel took a deep breath.

“My aunt is planning to murder me.”

Sebastian rocked back, eyes wide in surprise. “I’m sure that-“

“No, don’t tell me you don’t believe it. I know it. The night I came here, our maid freed me from my room and told me to run because she had overheard something. I didn’t want to believe it, but I have to trust her, at least. If I go back, if she finds me…I’m dead.”

The silence between them was so oppressive Ciel began to squirm. “I can find somewhere else…”

“No.” Sebastian interrupted him. “No, Ciel, you don’t. You’ll stay here.”

“Thank you.” Ciel could see Sebastian seriously struggling with himself before he spoke again. “Just what happened that she wants you dead?”

The boy looked up at him. “I’m Ciel Phantomhive.” It seemed that was enough for the man to understand the situation; everyone knew about the tragedy of that noble family. Both parents dead in one night, a bloodbath if there ever was one, the case still unsolved. The only heir returning from public school, never to be seen again. No wonder, if the boy’s aunt had kept him locked up inside. “I suppose it would be best if you stayed with us until the matter is settled”, Sebastian told him gently. “And I believe you will be splendid in your costumes. Those will efficiently hide you in plain sight, as well, should someone come looking for you.”

“Just don’t trust anyone in exaggerated red.”

**

It felt weird at first, wearing a dress, but Ciel quickly got the hang of it. Eventually, it felt quite natural and it didn’t even take long for him to be comfortable. He was set into a wagon that had a glass pane instead of one wall to mimic a cabinet where one would store such old, expensive dolls; Wendy had gone to town earlier and found tresses in a costume shop that matched his hair color, which were clipped to his short hair to look like pigtails, long and curling elegantly at the ends. His face had been powdered so the healing scrapes and bruises wouldn’t show, the dress fit him perfectly as was draped around him as he sat in a little armchair with curled armrests and intricate wood carving for the back. He was glad he didn’t have to walk in the high heeled shoes on his feet. Wendy had put him in there the very next day after breakfast without the costume so they could see how long he would be able to sit still in one pose, how ajar the door had to be for him to have enough air. It turned out Ciel was very good at being a living doll, even if the wagon made him feel as if he was in a glass coffin.

His lashes had been darkened with mascara, eyeliner making the deep blue of his eyes stand out even more, he even endured the light pink lipgloss Wendy had dabbed onto his mouth. Doll had taken a picture with her phone and showed it to him. Ciel had to admit he was impressed.

And he had fun watching the people milling in front of his cabinet. More often than not, they stopped in front of the glass and discussed whether he was real or just lifelike; in those moments he changed his pose, so when they looked back at him he would be seated differently, have his eyes closed or open or smiling. Some people were creeped out at first, and that was a lot of fun too.

It was the last show in this spot, the next day they would move on to London’s other side, then down the coast. Ciel felt quite safe…but then, something too red appeared.

It took all his control not to flinch and bolt. Twenty feet away, Grell stopped and watched Jumbo lift a weight that was as large as Ciel’s body and much heavier.

No, no, no…he couldn’t be here. His plan had worked so well so far, why was he here? Cold sweat ran down the back of his neck and disappeared into his dress, trailing an icy finger down his spine. He had to sit still. Don’t move, don’t move…Grell turned, and Ciel closed his eyes.

Maybe if he didn’t have his eyes open, if he canted his head down as if sleeping, the maniac wouldn’t recognize him. It also put out his vision, of course, and his fingers cramped around the curved handrests. The next thing he knew, the door to his cabinet opened and he bolted so harshly he smacked right against the glass. Joker blinked at him in mild alarm. “Goodness, kid, it’s just me, relax…were you in the zone?” He held a cup of water in his hand. “The show’s starting, thought I’d let you know. No one will be around for a while, but some patrons like walking the grounds in the break and after the show, so stay here, kay? I’ll have someone bring you a snack if you’re hungry.”

Ciel took the cup, hands trembling so badly the water spilled and darkened his gloves. “Joker, I…did you see a man all in red?” The other laughed. “That was a man? Yeah, he’s watching the show. Why, you know him?”

“N-no, I…I just…” His fingers tightened around the cup. “He can’t see me. He can’t, or something horrible will happen. Please, just….”

Concerned, Joker stepped inside. “Alright, it’s alright, here, sit down. Drink. Did he do something to you before?”

“You can say that…”

In truth, Grell had never done anything to him, really. The redhead wasn’t interested in him and what little conversations they had had been short and rather polite. But Grell was loyal to the Madam, and the Madam wanted him dead. “I’ll keep an eye on him”, Joker promised. “I’ll tell Sebastian, if you want. An’ the others. We’ll keep him away from your box.” Relieved and grateful, Ciel nodded. He finished the water and the light snack some of the helpers brought him a bit later, anxiously waiting for the show to be over.

Before Ann, he’d been happy. His parents had been doting, if busy with their charities and his father’s business, he had adored the servants and they had adored him. His favorite cousin, Lizzie, had been over so often he was rarely without her. He’d had a big hound he had loved. Even his aunt had been nice to him, though she was seldom around.

Everything changed when the police had picked him up from school one night, telling him his parents had had an accident and his aunt was his guardian now. He was to finish his education from home because she wanted it like this. They had moved into the country manor and Ciel had been forbidden from going outside, even just into the gardens. Ann kept him inside and locked in his room if she thought he’d misbehave, with enough food and water so he wouldn’t starve and enough books to keep him from going insane from boredom. He had a TV, a computer, a library. Lizzie hadn’t come back. His hound was gone, too. And the maid eventually told him after relentless pestering on his side that his parents had been cut apart in their bed by what seemed to have been an electric knife.

It just so happened that Grell loved his chainsaw.

Ciel had had no opportunity to explore the possible involvement of his aunt in his parents’ death but he had no doubt she’d had them killed. He really didn’t want to be next.

He was so lost in thought that he almost jerked back when that repulsive red was seen again…standing right in front of his wagon. Bright green eyes studied him with interest. “How pretty”, Grell murmured, putting a palm against the glass. Ciel didn’t dare move, even though he was sure the redhead would see his pulse racing under his skin. Dread kept him immobile.

He was saved not a blink later by Sebastian. “Sir, this part of the exhibit is closed after the show. Come along, you can take a look at the animals instead.”

“Closed, you say! That’s unfortunate”, Grell cooed, looking the tall man up and down. “My my, director, you’re a handsome guy…I’d love it if you had a bit of exhibitionist inside you.” His smile curved sharp and predatory, turning from the wagon to put a hand on Sebastian’s chest. “As it happens, I’m a bit of an exhibitionist…and I have a bit that would fit inside you just fine.” Disgust crossed Sebastian’s features before he had himself under control again. “A tempting offer, but I must decline.”

“Must you, really?” Grell clicked his tongue. “Too bad. Where did you get this exquisite doll, might I ask? It looks quite real.”

“One of my coworkers and a bit of make-up, I’m afraid. Come along.”

Sebastian managed to lead Grell away, but it didn’t calm Ciel’s heart. The hunter had found him. He had no illusions that a bit of make-up and long tresses would deter Grell from his prey.

Maybe being put into a glass casket for people to gape at him hadn’t been the best idea how to hide him.

Chapter 3: Like a Dollhouse

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Ciel did his best to help with packing up when the crew packed up the next morning, but he didn’t get much done after all.

The sun was beaming down as bright as yesterday and before long, his shirt was damp and clung to his skin. Ciel enjoyed the work, though; it seemed real, and honest, and these clothes, ill-fitting as they were and far inferior in quality than what he usually wore, felt just as good as the dress had last night. His parents as well as Ann had always insisted on him being dressed impeccably, although his parents had had more reason to seeing as he had been allowed to go out then. Ann had just been petty. Of course he couldn’t just sit on his bed in his pyjamas to read a book, no, he had to be dressed in a button-down and slacks and shoes, for heaven’s sake, just because she wanted to see a doll instead of a teenager if she happened to stop by.

Ciel shut this destructive train of thought down immediately. He didn’t want to think about Ann; doing so would remind him of Grell and that flooded his system with panic.

“Smile, sweetie, are you okay?”, Wendy asked in concern when she walked by and saw him just standing there frowning and shaking his head slowly. He jerked his head up and blinked at her owlishly. “Huh? Yes. I’m fine. Thank you”, he replied, giving her a light smile. It felt good to smile at people. He wasn’t in the habit of showing his emotions but these people were so open and friendly and quirky he couldn’t help but feel comfortable. “Leave the heavy lifting to Jumbo”, she winked at him, nodding to the flag he held in his hands. “Maybe you can help Beast with the feeding and penning, that’s not so strenuous.”

Ciel found he actually liked Beast. Yes, she ordered him around and glared a lot and seemed gruff, but when he arrived in the area the animals were hosted, she was sitting in on a trunk in the sun, Betty’s large head on her lap, scritching the tiger’s cheeks and ears. The large cat gently huffed in enjoyment every few breaths. He stopped to watch for a moment, but Betty’s ears were already twitching with his approach. The long, striped tail described a lazy half circle over the grassy ground and Beast’s chocolate eyes opened to look at him. “Come to feed some animals, kid?”

He smiled at her. “Wendy said you might need help.”

“Betty needs some juicy steaks. Are you volunteering?”

“If you tell me where they’re kept I can go get some”, Ciel offered and Beast smirked, lips twitching, then laughed at his obliviousness. “Alright. No. Come here.” Hesitantly Ciel stepped closer and was immediately charmed; behind Betty’s large body, curled up in the sun, were two tiger cubs napping. Betty watched him with alert eyes but didn’t make a move to attack as the boy leaned over, lips parting. “How precious…”

“You can pet them, if you want. Betty doesn’t mind I’m sure.” Ciel wasn’t so sure, but he inched around the trunk Beast sat on to crouch down next to the cubs, reaching out a hand to stroke the silky, fuzzy fur. The cub stretched and curled up around his hand so he could pet the soft belly. Ciel found himself smiling again. He looked up at the young woman. “How come they’re so friendly?” She chuckled, reaching down to grasp the other one efficiently and lifted the cub onto her lap for a cuddle. “They’re going to be circus tigers. They need to be used to humans so they don’t attack them either out of fear or aggression, so we make a point to interact with them from an early age. These two are three months old now.”

Ciel ended up feeding both of them with a bottle, one after the other curled on his lap and into the crook of his one arm, while everyone else packed up. Betty was watching him lazily from her travel cage but didn’t protest his handling of her babies. Eventually, a shadow fell over him.

He looked up to find Sebastian standing over him. “There you are. I was looking all over for you”, he said, but he didn’t seem angry fortunately. His eyes were drawn to the cub in Ciel’s arms, but he made no move to touch them. “Beast asked me to…” The tall man shook his head, smiling. “It’s alright. I’m sure they were very hungry.” Now he reached down to touch the fuzzy head of the baby; from her cage, Betty growled, getting to her feet. “She doesn’t like you much, huh…”

Sebastian smiled sadly. “Unfortunately not. I seem to have displeased her in some way.” He stood straight again and looked down at Ciel. “Will you ride in the truck with me?”

Of course he did. The circus was packed up into five trucks, all of which pulled an animal compartment also. Sebastian led the way in the one he drove, Ciel strapped into the passenger’s seat. The ride was slow and careful, due to the delicate equipment and live cargo, so the trip from one end of London to the other took longer than Ciel had remembered it. He could barely believe that the next show would be that evening already, packing up had taken at least four hours and it would take just as long, if not longer, to set everything up at the next grounds again. Downtown London was packed with cars and buses and they stood on one of the bridges for the longest time. Ciel found himself humming along to the song playing on the quiet radio.

Sebastian smiled over at him. “You’re pretty relaxed for someone stuck in traffic.”

“Well, I’m not the one having to drive”, Ciel grinned over. Sebastian chuckled. “Would you like to?”

“Even if…” Ciel spread his hands and shrugged. “I don’t have a license. I’ve never been behind the wheel of a car before.” The elder looked at him with brows raised. “You’re…”

“Not quite old enough to have learned before, and besides, if I do go somewhere, I’m usually driven…”

“Or you go by foot”, Sebastian teased him. Ciel gave him a small smile. What could have been seen as a barb didn’t sting at all. “Only if I have to run.”

“I’ll teach you myself. We have a one day layover before we get to Canterbury. We’ll make a day trip to the sea and you can try to drive.”

That sounded pretty nice actually. “You know we’ll be in a world of trouble if we’re stopped by the police.”

Sebastian’s grin was close to demonic. “If. You mean if we’re stopped.”

**

To his loathing, Ciel’s dress that night was pink. He made a face as Wendy helped him get dressed and made up. “I don’t like this one.” It was perfectly doll-like, with a full skirt that hung in drapes, a bodice waist and long black gloves that matched the applications on the skirt and chest. Wendy chuckled. “It’s apricot, Snowy.” Ever since Beast had begun calling him that for his sunburn, one by one everyone else had done, too. Ciel supposed it fit him better than ‘Smile’ anyway. “It’s pink. And it’s horrible”, Ciel complained, pouting when the short girl stepped onto a stool to clip in the long pigtails he would wear. A cloth flower was clipped into his bangs to hide one side of his face. The other side was already made up, eyeliner and mascara making his eye huge in his pale face. Wendy purposefully didn’t use blush on him, she had said, to make him seem more fragile and dolly. Atop the flower came a hat in the same color as the fabric of the dress. Ciel had liked the one from the day before much better; at least it had been a color that wasn’t an eyesore. “See how pretty you are! We should sell pictures of you. And calendars.”

Ciel didn’t think that was a very good idea, but smiled and thanked her anyway. He was put into his glass casket and settled into his little chair comfortably, eyes closed for the first pose. He’d be tempted to follow the patrons with his eyes if he didn’t, trying to find red in the crowd. It would stress him more than necessary.

He was a little disappointed he wouldn’t be able to see the crew perform with his new job; he could hear Sebastian’s deep voice though when he announced the acts, amplified by the microphone clipped to his ear, his words rolling over the grounds. As he sat and waited before changing his pose, he had a lot of time to be alone with his thoughts; instead of scary, as he thought it would be, Ciel found that very meditative. He felt oddly peaceful despite the bit of panic running through him at the prospect that Grell could find and recognize him; in his fantasy, the redhead would smash the glass with his chainsaw, making splinters rain on Ciel sharply, grasp him by the neck, drag him back screaming and slaughter everyone that tried to stand in his path.

Doll. Wendy. Betty the tiger and her babies.

Sebastian.

Ciel grimaced and shifted into another pose to hide it. He chose a spot in the middle distance and let his face go blank. He was putting all of them in danger; something he hadn’t thought he would care about but found that he did. He wasn’t even sure how this would play out, maybe the notary wouldn’t even listen to him, maybe Ann had gotten to him before. What if she had figured out his plan already and made the necessary steps to spoil it? She wasn’t stupid; as a doctor and a first grade manipulator, she was more than apt to see through his plots. He could only hope that she believed the circus to be so far beneath her noble-born nephew that she wouldn’t even consider it.

The circus crew was good people. They were a little dysfunctional, but they were kind and caring and they had taken Ciel in without a second thought.

Guilt crept in to hang out with his paranoia.

He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if Sebastian was harmed because of him.

**

Ann was throwing another fit. Grell took a step to the side calmly to dodge another heavy paperweight she threw in his direction. The color in her cheeks matched her hair, furious beautiful red. He loved watching her get all riled up. Fury was even better than arousal, he found.

Sure, he had thought he’d found the little brat. He hadn’t told her. For Ann, the boy remained lost.

To be fair, Grell didn’t have anything against the boy. Certainly not his type, too young and too twinky, all pale and gloomy up in his tower – but Ciel had never been cruel to him or treated him with anything but politeness. He was quite smart, too. In his heart of hearts, Grell found it a travesty what Ann planned to do to the boy. It would be so much easier to treat him like family, get a huge chunk of the trust fund when the kid turned eighteen and live as beloved aunt. That certainly was nothing to sneeze at. The kid was kindhearted enough that he’d support her until the end with anything she could want. It wasn’t like Ann was broke, anyway.

Grell dodged yet another object – a stapler, this time. “I’m sorry, madam. I’m sure I’ll find him soon.” Not too soon, though. As much as Grell loved spilling blood, paint everything a glorious red, the tiny thing wouldn’t have enough inside him for even a small room.

That’s what he told himself to justify the lie.

“You’d better! The appointment is next week and the full moon just a day after that. We can NOT lose time like this! I want him back here by his birthday!”

“Yes, madam.”

“You have to find him before he starves. I need him alive. For a while.”

“Of course, madam.”

“Ugh, just go find the little bitch. Quickly.”

Grell bowed at the waist and left the room, throwing an impassive glance at the body chained to the wall that Ann was approaching now. Poor girl.

The maid wasn’t quite dead yet, but he assumed this would be the last time he’d see her breathing.

He left the manor, then the grounds, passing the frantic little gardener and didn’t pay him any attention. The manor had gone very quiet ever since Ciel had run – if Mey-Rin wasn’t screaming, that was. Beautiful screams. Grell enjoyed them very much although he wasn’t allowed to play, not until he had found the boy.

Tracking him should have been easier. The boy was clumsy; his path through the foliage should have been obvious. As it was, Grell had found nothing but a little pressed down patch of moss in a nest of ferns. Nothing more. Nothing less. Could have been badger for all he knew.

The circus grounds had been promising. There had been a kid that looked a lot like the Phantomhive heir, but Grell hadn’t been sure. He normally didn’t care if it was the right victim as long as he could rip someone open…but he wouldn’t be allowed to play with Ciel anyway, and there would be hell to pay from his mistress if he brought her the wrong child.

Now if he’d only paid more attention to what the little brat actually looked like.

This evening, he went out without his beloved saw, taking only two knifes. Easier to hide. When he came to the circus grounds, deciding to look at the living doll more closely, the little valley was empty.

Bright green eyes blinked once, twice behind redrimmed glasses. “Uh.” They were gone.

**

“You did really well tonight, Snowy!”, Dagger clapped him on the back so hard Ciel almost choked on his biscuit. “I didn’t actually do anything…”

“Now, don’t be modest, you’re really pretty in drag”, Doll winked at him from across the table. Sebastian chuckled as he put a large pan into the middle of the table. “Alright everyone, here’s your reward for a well-done job! It’s apple and raisin crumble. Enjoy!” He cut the still hot dessert and put piles of it into small bowls. When he set one down in front of Ciel, the boy shook his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t eat that. I’m allergic to apples.” Here were disappointed and sympathetic exclamations all around. “Like, a pimple or two allergic?”, Joker asked and Ciel shook his head again. “No, it’s really bad. My windpipe would swell shut in moments. It’s really unpleasant.”

Sebastian was quick to exchange his crumble for a plate with a few oatmeal cookies. He was rewarded with a smile so radiant it managed to outshine the period of sunshine they’d been graced with so far. It was redirected too quickly when Wendy tangled Ciel up in a conversation about how she had looked through the large costume chests and was sure she could alter some of them to fit the boy for more variety in his show outfits. Ciel actually seemed interested in that.

The director sat down, the chatter a din around him that he could tune out easily as long as no one was talking directly to him. Ciel was glowing across the table; there was a slight blush in his cheeks, lips pulled into a permanent light smile, the beautiful seablue of his eyes reflecting the candles and lanterns they had put up for their after-show dinner. He seemed at ease here. He looked happy.

Sebastian’s eyes followed the delicate line of the boy’s neck down to where it curved into the line of his soft shoulders.

How he wished he could keep him.

Notes:

Uh oh, someone's falling I suppose :) I'm sorry posting this took so long. If you wish to know, the first convention of the season was completely amazing. I had a very nice week of cosplay building, spending time with good friends (and having way too much sushi, if there is such a thing!) As improbable as it is, if any of you guys are ever on an anime convention in Germany, tell me! I'd love to chat :D

Chapter 4: A special sort of Death

Notes:

We're amping up the drama in this chapter! Before the week is out, A&A will be completed I assume. I have a few days all to myself, the weather is nice, so writing will go smoothly! I apologize for there not being any smut yet - it didn't fit the flow of the story. The next (and last) chapter will probably have some in one way or the other. If you positively can't live without steamy sex, check out the other WIP I just had to post early: Bittersweet!

Now enjoy, my lovelies, feedback is always appreciated <3

Chapter Text

„Sebastian“, the redhead said with relish as the tall darkhaired man frowned down on him. They were almost of an height, but the director had an inch or two on Grell that the redhaired man seemed to find incredibly titillating. “What a gorgeous name. Fitting, for such a gorgeous man as yourself, I suppose”, Grell cooed, running a hand up Sebastian’s chest. Sebastian grimaced, barely managed to turn the expression into a polite, if forced smile. “Well. I can’t answer that without sounding conceited, can I.”

“Ooooh you’re modest too!!”

It wasn’t the fact that Grell was a man that put Sebastian off – far from it. It was the garish color he wore from head to toe; Sebastian didn’t like red, really. Nor did he like such…forward people.

He especially didn’t like him because this was the man Ciel had told him would come to drag him back.

Sebastian had a hard time wrapping his mind around Ciel’s story. He believed him, naturally, but he found it very hard to believe that anyone would want such a delightful young man dead, especially his own aunt. Ciel was introverted, yes, but Sebastian wasn’t sure if that hailed from being locked up the last few years in a room with only books as company or if he’d always been naturally quiet. He enjoyed Ciel’s company.

The world would be a little darker without him, he believed. He would not let that happen.

“Would you like a tour of the grounds?” Take one for the team, Sebastian – make the guy happy, he’ll leave soon enough. It was better than ignoring him, people like that were notorious for hanging around where they weren’t wanted. Ciel was hidden; by now all the crew knew this red man meant trouble, so whenever someone spotted him, they ran to grab Ciel and hide him somewhere. The rest of the crew would then begin to distract the redhead. Today it was Sebastian’s turn. He bore the pain of the redhead grabbing onto his offered arm and walked a slow circle around the circus grounds.

Three shows were planned in Canterbury. Around them, the crew had already begun putting up tents and equipment, unloading the trucks. Their one-day layover in the small town close to the sea had been pleasant; Ciel had begged out of driving, too nervous what would happen if they were stopped and once Wendy had overheard them talking about going to visit the sea, Sebastian had been forced to drive half the entourage there. Joker and Jumbo had stayed behind to watch the trucks, crew and animals; the rest of the active performers had piled into a rented SUV. Beast had ridden shotgun because she claimed if she sat next to Dagger he’d molest her, so Sebastian hadn’t gotten to talk to Ciel much on the drive. Doll and Wendy had sat in the far back on either side of the boy, chattering over his head, but the kid had looked content there. Sebastian didn’t have it in him to tell them to be quiet, anyway. Once at the beach, he’d had the pleasure of watching Ciel light up like Christmas; the salty air had tousled his fine hair and put a healthy flush into his cheeks, a smile on his face as he watched the waves hit the beach. The day had been beautiful; Ciel had been, too. Sebastian had found he couldn’t look away. In the evening, when everyone had come back to the circus grounds happy and tired from playing and the mini adventure, Ciel had grasped Sebastian’s sleeve and looked up at him with those large, clear eyes. “Thank you. That was very nice.”

Sebastian had felt there was more to that gratefulness than a mere trip to the beach, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he had smiled and leaned in to kiss Ciel’s forehead. “You’re very welcome.” This time, the flush in Ciel’s cheeks hadn’t been the wind or sun.

Sebastian grimaced now as the redhead clung tighter to his arms, coming on to him so hard it was close to awkward. Despite Grell’s exotic looks and the waifish cast to his face, pretty enough, he wasn’t attracted to him one bit. That was a little odd; Sebastian could have overlooked all the red. Normally, he wouldn’t have hesitated to take someone if they flirted with him that excessively.

That had been before Ciel, however.

Eventually, Grell left, promising him to be at one of the next show to watch it, whenever he could get an evening off. Sebastian hoped that wouldn’t be any time soon.

Ciel blinked at him like a little owl hit with the beam of a flashlight when he opened the large trunk he had hidden him in. It was large enough that he could sit somewhat comfortably, knees bent and pulled to his chest, a few magazines of Beast’s jammed inbetween the trunk and the lid so Ciel could breathe. Sebastian smiled at him kindly. “He’s gone. You can come out.” He held out a hand to assist the boy and Ciel grasped it with both hands, letting the man pull him up. The visit had taken close to an hour; his legs had fallen asleep about half an hour ago already and were too numb to support him now. He sagged against Sebastian the moment he tried straightening up.

Sebastian, of course, caught him. The boy weighed close to nothing, the darkhaired man thought as he supported the slim body with one arm around his waist and his free hand against the round of one delicate shoulder. His fingers were long enough to complete curl around Ciel’s arm – or maybe the small biceps was narrow enough to allow it. The fact, however, put a strange heat into Sebastian’s belly. Large blue eyes peered up at him from underneath a wispy fringe of slate colored hair soft as kitten fur. “Sorry….”

“Don’t be.” His hand let go of his shoulder to stroke the back of his knuckles against a peach cheek. With his gloves on, he mourned the fact he didn’t feel Ciel’s skin for a second. Ciel’s eyes halflidded, the thick fringe of his dark lashes putting shadows onto his cheeks. Garnet caught navy and held it for a long moment.

“Sebastian, we…uh….sorry?”, Joker blinked at the two of them, having dragged the tent flap aside to peek inside. “Should I come back later?” His brows curved up amusedly, then gave a brief wiggle. Sebastian sighed. “No, that’s fine. What is it?”

“There’s an issue with the electronics and Wendy asked where Snowy is. The first patrons will arrive in less than an hour for the afternoon showing and she wants to pretty you up before”, he said to the blushing boy. Ciel nodded and squirmed out of Sebastian’s arms, stepping from the trunk and heading off, weaving like a drunk. Joker chuckled. “What’s with him?”

“Legs fell asleep. Show me what’s wrong”, Sebastian replied with a light smile. He wasn’t mad about the missed chance to kiss the lovely boy. There would be more of those, he was certain of it.

Ciel hurried to find Wendy, not even wincing at all the tools and colors lying around her vanity table anymore. He sat down and lifted his face for her to start her work.

“Green today”, she said happily, indicating to the heap of fabric she had lay out on her cot. The sleeveless bodice and the full skirt were a poisonous apple green, bright satin, the bodice covered artfully with black lace, full sleeves of the same fabric. More lace trailed down the back half of the skirt, forming a train behind. Matching high heeled shoes stood next to the cot. Ciel sighed. “Those shoes again…I’m not walking or anything, can’t we leave them?”

Wendy snickered. “No, silly. Be happy you don’t have to walk around like the rest of us. Those things are uncomfortable even if you’re used to them!” Wendy was the only person shorter than Ciel in the crew. She was tiny and petite and beautiful with her bright cognac colored eyes and long brown hair; Ciel figured she’d like wearing heels to make herself seem a little taller. The usual gunk was plastered onto his face; tinted lotion, matte pale powder, eyeliner, a hint of green and grey eyeshadow. Those dreaded little brushes that glued his lashes together. “I have a hard time believing girls do this willingly”, he complained, trying not to blink. Wendy smiled at him and kissed his cheek. “We like to be pretty for you guys, you know. Girls are vain!”

“You’re pretty without make up”, Ciel sighed, making her coo all over him. “You’re such a sweetheart, Snowy! Now, for your flattery, I’ll allow you to walk to your casket without shoes. Shoo! Go on!”

Ciel was draped into his little chair and Wendy helped putting the shoes on, tiny things that squeezed his toes and made him pout. “Aw, Snowy, I’ll go get you a cookie, okay? There’s a few minutes left yet until the gates open.” Not that there were actual gates, but every afternoon at four p.m. Sebastian would draw back the rope that closed off the actual grounds for the masses so the patrons could walk around, look at the sideshows, buy snacks and drinks and generally flush their pockets with more money than their tickets alone. The tiger cubs were especially popular, though Beast refused to let the patrons touch them. They were welcome to watch them nap or eat or cajole around with their toys however. From where Ciel sat, he could watch Jumbo with his impressive weights, the fortune teller in her little tent, the entrance of the ominous looking tent that housed their snake charmer. Few people dared to go in there, most of them wanting to prove how tough they were or reptile enthusiasts. They got a lot of those in the larger cities, though in smaller towns like Canterbury, there was only a handful.

Ciel settled into his quiet meditation as he got as comfortable as he’d get. The springs under the chair cushion pressed into the backs of his thighs as usual, the shoes squeezed his toes, the lacing of the bodice constricted his breathing a little, but he felt calmer already just sitting here and being useful to the people that had taken him in so kindly. And Sebastian had announced lasagna for dinner tonight, something he was looking forward to very much, Sebastian’s cooking was excellent…

The small door opened without him having seen anyone pass by his glass wagon. Curiously he turned his head to see a vaguely familiar face smile back at him. “Wendy said you wanted something sweet”, a croaky voice said as the old woman held out a small plate to him. On the plate sat the most delicious looking scone Ciel had ever seen, moist and golden and the perfect size to enjoy and not feel too full after. “Thank you”, he said politely and took the plate.

“Just put it down under your chair when you’re done, we’ll clean up later”, the elder woman crooned at him, nodded and smiled, and stepped back. Now where had he seen her before…?

Ciel glanced at the large clock the circus attached to the largest tent. Ten minutes to go – better hurry. He took a big bite out of the scone. It was incredibly delicious, slightly tangy and sweet, a very fresh taste. He chewed and swallowed, turning to the woman in the entryway to ask if Sebastian had made this today – and found he couldn’t.

His tongue felt too large for his mouth.

The bodice was too tight, he couldn’t breathe – no, that wasn’t the dress. Ciel let the scone drop and clawed at his throat; the sweet pastry fell onto his skirt, shifted, dropped to the floor. Panic darkened the edges of his vision as the woman grinned widely, her mouth red, much too red…

His kicking foot caught the front pane of his glass casket with enough force to shatter it. The sound was loud and startled the woman into gaping; already, Jumbo came running, alarmed by the breaking. “Ambulance!”, he hollered, scooping Ciel out of the shards without regard to the sharp glass bits cutting into his forearms. The woman hissed and took a few steps back; when more people came running, she turned and ran away. Within moments, she was gone, impossible to find in the chaos that followed.

Sebastian arrived just as Ciel’s vision went black; he reached for the man, pleading, and Sebastian caught his hand just as it fell limp.

**

Outside the grounds, Grell watched his mistress approach in a hurried step. “You’re alone”, he noted. Ann glared at him, pulling strips of latex the color of her make-up from her face. “That’s a small set back”, she replied, panting slightly. “The ambulance is already on their way; they will check him into the hospital under a fake name, I assume, but I can easily drop a hint to Scotland Yard to where he may be. He’ll be fine to come home for his birthday.” She smiled widely as they walked back to where Grell had parked the car and got in.

“There’s a few minor preparations to make still. We should return to the manor; I want a shower as soon as possible. That whole place stank like manure.”

“Well they do have horses there.”

“I realize that, Grell.”

“Just saying.”

She glanced at him as he backed the car from the grove of trees they had hidden it in and pulled back onto the road. By car and without delays, the trip was a little over an hour. Ann used it to peel the latex off of her face in long and short strips, watching herself in the vanity mirror of the passenger’s seat. “You seem a little put off, my love, what’s wrong?”

Grell huffed, brows drawn low over his expressive green eyes. Eyes the color of Ciel’s dress, she noticed. It had looked very pretty, especially with the damned brat gasping for breath. “You finished off the maid girl without me.”

“And you didn’t tell me you found Ciel almost a week ago already. What’s your point?” The redhaired man stayed silent. Ann shrugged. “If you had completed your task the way you were supposed to, I would have let you play.”

“Why, though?”, he asked her. “Why does he have to die? If it’s about the money, I’m sure he’d be happy to support you. It’s not like you’re broke.”

“Oh, my love, that’s not it at all. That kid should have never been born.” She picked at a stubborn piece of fake skin that made her look like a leper the more she tried to remove it. “My sister was a fucking bitch, you know. I hated her. Vincent was my boyfriend and she had nothing better to do than ride his dick even though she knew how I felt about him.” She grumbled at the piece and pulled harder. “Naturally, the little harlot became pregnant and Vincent felt obligated to marry her. I just want all of her legacy to go away. And if it benefits me in any way….why not?”

“That’s not his fault, though. He’s a sweet kid.”

“Don’t tell me you’re growing a conscience”, she scoffed. “How repulsive.”

The rest of the drive was silent. Once home, Ann left Grell to do whatever he felt like doing and took a long, hot shower; after, she toweled off and opened the hidden passage door without bothering to dress. It wasn’t like there was anyone liable to be back here besides maybe Grell and he certainly knew what her tits looked like naked. The roughly hewn stone steps were cold under her bare feet, the stale air cool and damp, pebbling her nipples and pulling her skin into goosebumps. It was a short flight; the hidden room she had found sat smackdab in the middle of the manor’s main wing on ground level. Next to it was the kitchen, a larger sitting room on the other side; where there should have been a door the grand staircase had been set. It was only accessible via the door hidden behind a bookshelf in the study that sat on the first floor above the mentioned sitting room. It was a nifty construction. She had often wondered what the original owners of the manor, some obscure Lord centuries back, may have intended to use this room for. She figured the original idea had been somewhat along the lines of hers.

The stairs stopped in the living room sized room; the walls were rough, bare brick, the ground rotting wood over dirt. It didn’t matter to her what the room looked like, really. What mattered was the large pentagram painted onto the floor in the middle with the low altar set into the middle of it. It had taken her almost half a year to build this; the construction people were often put off by the demands, figuring she was a satan worshipper, and had to be quieted permanently.

Of course, she quieted those that were willing to work on it too – just a precaution.

“This will be your final resting space, my lovely little nephew”, she murmured with a pleased smile, turning in a slow circle. The knife was sharpened and lay ready on the stone. Candles had been out into the appropriate spots already.

All that was left was her sacrificial lamb and the years of pain would finally be over.

**

The drive to the hospital passed in a blur for Sebastian. Although everyone was worried and frantic, he had left the crew behind, Joker in charge to go through with the show as per usual; he himself had gotten into the ambulance with a gasping Ciel who was steadily turning blue and had finally passed out. The young woman on duty, a very pretty blond who seemed nice but no-nonsense had steadily pushed a tube into Ciel’s mouth, down his swollen throat very carefully, and into his windpipe far enough so the machine Sebastian sat next to could breathe for the boy. Still, Ciel wouldn’t open his eyes.

“He received an anaphylactic shock”, the blonde, whose nametag identified her as Dr. Midford had told him. “Unconsciousness can happen; we should prepare for him sleeping for quite a while, really. Do you know what could have caused this?”

“He’s allergic to apples”, Sebastian had told her numbly. “There must have been some in the last thing he ate.” Although how that could have happened was a mystery to Sebastian; he had banned apples in all prepared dishes, although there were still whole fruits for everyone to enjoy if they so wished. Ciel wouldn’t have eaten an apple, not voluntarily.

Now he sat by Ciel’s bedside, redrimmed eyes fixed on the tiny lump his body made in the hospital bed; he had missed the first show and the second. This morning, the crew had visited to see how they were; they had brought presents, mostly self-made cards and candies, Dagger bawling and clutching a few limp flowers he had stolen from a frontyard on the way to the hospital.

Sebastian stayed.

The plastic chair was uncomfortable, but he didn’t feel it. The coffee tasted like it had been brewed by a dishwasher, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t hungry. He didn’t sleep. When he went to the bathroom, he hurried so much he had more than once banged his elbow or knee in the cramped space.

On the afternoon of the third show, Beast came to visit alone.

“What do you want us to do?”, she asked him, holding his face in both hands so he would look at her. “Goodness, Sebastian, you need sleep. We have to be in Dover by tomorrow evening. You have to make a decision.”

“I’m not leaving him.”

“So you’re leaving us?”

He sighed and closed his eyes. “No. No, of course not. But…”

Beast glanced at the boy on the bed; on his back, eyes closed, hair lank, a tube in his mouth going who knew where inside him and needles in his arms. “Who is he, exactly?” Sebastian smiled and let his forehead sink against her abdomen. She curled her arms around his head. “He needs my protection. If I’m not here, who knows what will happen.”

“That’s what the doctors are here for, aren’t they?”

“No…he ran from his family for a reason. If they find out he’s here and come to get him…and I’m not here…”

He looked at the boy. “I may never see him again.”

Beast sighed. “Alright. We’ll manage to get to Dover without you, but Sebastian, we can’t go to France without you. You’ll have to find a solution until then.”

When she was gone, he got another cup of coffee, sat back down. Relocated to the edge of his bed.

“I won’t allow anything to happen to you, Ciel”, he said softly to the sleeping boy. “I promise. You can sleep however long you need to get better, but please…” Sebastian closed his eyes, his throat tight. “Please come back to me.”

Canting his head almost awkwardly, he leaned in, brushing his lips against the corner of Ciel’s mouth. The tube prevented him from kissing the boy fully; else he would have done it.

Next to him, the steady, slow beeping of the machine monitoring Ciel’s heartbeat sped up loudly.

Chapter 5: Forever After

Notes:

Wow, this is the second fairytale that's finished now! A third one is in the pipeline already and I hope I'll get the first chapter up before the weekend.

And exciting news! This weekend, I will be on a convention with printed copies of Beauty of the Beast. Keep up with me on www.facebook.com/fatgirlcosplay or my tumblr: fatgirlcosplay-kitteh, I will be posting pictures of the actual books when they arrive, which should be today. Depending on how many I can get rid of this weekend, I may do a drawing for a copy to send to you. I'll draw among the reviews for BotB I believe! (So if you haven't reviewed but still want to win, go on and do it ;) )

Anyway, the next thing I will post is either the spin-off to Bittersweet, a story about how that universe's Ciel and Sebastian met (and how Ciel got Sebastian into bed in the first place), or the first chapter to the new fairytale, which will be called Red-Handed. I wish I could give you a teaser like I did with Apples & Arsenic, but frankly, I haven't actually started writing yet. (Can you guess which fairytale will be featured?)

Chapter Text

In a blink, all hell broke loose.

The moment Ciel’s heartrate monitor began beeping so loudly there was a flurry of activity; there was the barest glimmer of ocean blue from beneath the fall of the boy’s lashes, the soft intake of a deeper breath, then Sebastian was pulled back from the bed by a harried nurse, almost dislodging the air tube that fed Ciel oxygen with the hand he’d had cupping the soft, cool cheek, and stumbled back a few steps until the windowsill stopped his path. The nurse was followed by a doctor, both working efficiently and quickly, but blocking Sebastian’s view of the happenings.

Fear gripped him; he had spent three days and nights at Ciel’s bedside, watching the boy sleep, worrying about if he ever got to see those beautiful eyes again, pensive when he figured out Ciel wouldn’t wake up until he was good and ready. Sebastian knew what stress could do to a human body and mind and the boy had had a lot of it over the last week; running away from home, away from his only remaining family member that wanted him dead, having to adjust into an environment he was unfamiliar with. Knowing he’d have to be on his guard for the rest of his life. No matter how kindly they had taken Ciel in, the boy was sure to be distressed.

But this…this was not Ciel’s mind and body resting. The hushed, urgent whispers of the doctor and nurse proved that. The nurse left and returned with a syringe, injecting the IV with the liquid in it.

Little by little, the heart monitor calmed down to its steady beeping. The doctor was still talking, but this time, it wasn’t to the nurse or even Sebastian.

He was talking to Ciel.

Sebastian’s heart missed a beat. Ciel was awake – that meant he had to be better. The doctor smiled down kindly at the boy while the nurse turned to Sebastian. “Mr. Michaelis…” Sebastian stepped forward as if called to attention. “Yes?”

“Your nephew is awake. He will be disoriented for a bit, but he will get much better from now on.” She smiled at him. “He wants to see you.”

They had admitted Ciel under a false name and Sebastian had paid a small sum up front so the hospital wouldn’t ask insurance right away. He had been worrying about that, too, how much longer he could keep under wraps that he held the Phantomhive heir, knowing the country was looking for him all over the place. He’d seen the articles in magazines and newspapers, read the theories what could have happened to him. Of course his aunt would have called the police when she figured out he was missing. They had been lucky so far.

Sebastian let out a relieved breath he hadn’t known he was holding and approached the bed. The nurse stepped aside for him and navy eyes, dark with fatigue, looked up at him. The doctor had removed the nasal tube and the one in his mouth; the corners of Ciel’s mouth were slightly cracked having wrapped around it for so long. His lips were chapped, he was too pale, his hair matted.

He couldn’t have been more beautiful to Sebastian.

Without words, he stepped close to the bed, cupping one cheek, bent down until their foreheads touched. A wave of emotion rolled over him and gripped his heart tightly; for a moment, he could not breathe. Ciel was awake. He was canting his face up against his although his eyes had closed again. Sebastian tried hard not to cry. “You got us all a little worried,” he said softly into the minimal space between them. Ciel’s mouth curved into a faint smile. “Sorry.”

“No,” he protested, cupping Ciel’s face with both hands. “No, don’t be sorry. I should have cared for you better. I never wanted you to get hurt.”

“This isn’t your fault-“ Sebastian’s lips came down on his in a dry, firm press that was all desperation and relief. “I’m never taking my eyes off of you again.”

Ciel was released that afternoon. A nurse had helped him shower although he had insisted on trying alone, but too dizzy still to properly do it by himself and Sebastian had called Joker to have him bring some clothing for the boy as well as pick them up. Ciel was dressed and held between the men as they made their way to the parking lot. “Thank you,” the boy told the both of them sincerely. “No, really, thank you. I know you didn’t have to do this. I’ll reimburse you for the hospital cost.”

Joker smiled indulgently and told him not to worry about it – he didn’t know who Ciel was, after all. Sebastian merely looked down at him thoughtfully. “Are you well enough to go see your notary?” Both of them looked at him – Joker confused, Ciel pensive. “I’m a little nervous,” Ciel admitted, but he nodded. “It’s better to do this right away.” Then he frowned. “Just…where are we, exactly?”

They dropped off Joker at the site the circus used here and took the car to drive to Dover. Straight to the town, it was a matter of twenty minutes by car; less than half an hour in which Ciel twisted the seatbelt in his hands nervously. “I don’t know what to tell him…”

“You’d tell him your story, of course.”

“Yes, but…how? It sounds a little fantastical, if I think about it.”

The notary, a tall, frankly weird man that had long ashwhite hair, a penchant for giggling at inappropriate times and too long fingernails, didn’t seem to think so. Upon dropping his name to the man’s assistant, they were ushered inside the brownstone house and up the stairs to a large study, complete with bookshelves floor to ceiling on all sides, dark wood furniture and a desk that, oddly, reminded Ciel of a coffin the way it was shaped. He was handed a cup of strong tea and a few cookies that were shaped like dogtreats but turned out to be shortbread instead of pet food and rather delicious, and sat in one of the leather chairs in front of the desk. Sebastian sat next to him, a steady, reassuring presence.

“My dear boy!” the Undertaker, as the man had introduced himself as, said jovially as he sat down across from them. “You grew quite a lot, huh? Last time I saw you, you were this tiny little thing. Eyes bigger than the rest of your body.”

“You…know me?”

“Of course I do! I’ve done business with your father in the past. Not so much in the latter years, but before, ah yes, before…we had quite the friendship.” His mouth curved in an odd little smile that made Ciel frown. “My aunt is trying to kill me,” he replied. The Undertaker barked out a laugh. “Hah! Yes, she’d do that, wouldn’t she. Crazy old bat. She still hanging out with that redheaded guy?” Ciel nodded softly and the man chortled and shook his head. “Bad crowd, that is. Bad crowd. I read in the papers you ran away from home.”

“Yes,” Ciel said, curling his fingers around the warm cup and looked down into the amber liquid. “I had to. Our maid overheard her saying something that made her believe I wouldn’t survive the night. My aunt sent her…her friend after me to catch me, but he never did. And then they tried to kill me with an apple scone – I’m allergic.”

“And here you are. Impressive, kid. Really impressive.”

Ciel was a bit surprised, but not unpleasantly. Yes, the man was odd. But he had known his father, had been on friendly terms with him, even if he himself had never heard the man’s name before. He would have thought Angelina would pick another notary to finish this business, but maybe…

“Is there a will?”

The Undertaker blinked at him through his long fringe. “Huh? Oh, one your father made? Of course. Vincent wasn’t an idiot. It’s ironclad, too.” He rustled through one of the large drawers of his desk and pulled out a folder, flipping it open. “Says right here, should anything happen to them, your aunt will be your legal guardian until you turn eighteen, then you inherit the company, the estates, your trust fund. Everything basically. Ann would get a small pension…I say small, but it’s only really tiny in comparison to your portion. She’d live quite comfortably with it, truly. If you died, however…she’s the only living family left, so she’d get all of it.” He shrugged and shoved the folder over so Ciel could take a look. “You a business savvy like your father, kid?”

Ciel sighed. “No…I spent the last three years locked up in a room. I’ll have to finish school.” He slowly flipped the papers inside that folder; his heart clenched painfully when he saw the elegant, curvy signature of his parents on the legal documents. There was even a picture of the three of them in it. Ciel drew his fingertips gently down his mother’s beautiful, smiling face and felt tears burning in the back of his throat. “I…miss them very much.”

Seeing him like this broke Sebastian’s heart a little more. He reached out and stroked the backs of his knuckles down Ciel’s soft cheek, then turned to the man. “Is there anything we can do? His aunt kept him locked up and tried to kill him. Can we call the police on them?”

“Oh, absolutely. Sure,” the Undertaker nodded. “I’d advise it, even. I mean, it would take some weeks to conclude the final evaluation, yes, but until then, Ciel would be safe. He’s of age now, so we can’t put him up with any foster families, but-“

“Can I stay with Sebastian?”

Both men looked at him in surprise. “You’d want to stay with me?” Sebastian asked softly. Ciel gave him a smile. “He took very good care of me,” he told the notary, reaching over to take Sebastian’s hand. Their fingers tangled. “And I still have to work off the debt I owe him, after all. He paid for the hospital visit.” Navy eyes fixed in garnet ones. “I owe him my life.”

The Undertaker snickered. “Oh, you are too much. Look how cute you are. Yes, you can stay with your boyfriend.” Both of them blushed to the tips of their ears. “We’re not- I mean…um…” Sebastian had to laugh and gave the small hand in his a squeeze. “I would absolutely be your boyfriend if you wanted me to.”

**

Sitting in a courtroom was an experience that was completely unreal. Press had been denied access, so the room was almost empty and very quiet. Ciel sat next to his solicitor, a stern looking man that had introduced himself as William T. Spears, who had been an associate of Vincent’s as well. The Undertaker had set them up shortly after Ciel’s visit, when the police had searched the townhouse and the manor and arrested Ann and her pet.

His aunt was glowering at him from across the room, all but chewing her cheek to ribbons as not so say anything wrong. The charges laid against her were horrifying.

Sebastian had been allowed to come and sat in the audience with some of the witnesses, his eyes on Ciel as the charges were laid out against the only living member of his boyfriend’s family.

Unlawful detention. Emotional abuse of a legal ward. Torture. Murder.

The police had found the body of the maid in the manor, still hanging at the wall of the study like a trophy, skin peeled, fingers and toes amputated and stuffed into any bodily orifice one could think of. With a tight throat, Ciel had looked at the less wild pictures and confirmed that this woman had been the one to usher him out of the house that night. No one made the comment that this was probably the reason she’d had to die, but everyone thought it. There had been more bodies, buried deeper. There had been a room that they had found only because someone had forgotten to fully close the hidden door, which the officer on duty had described, in a haunted, tired voice, as the theatre for satanic rituals. A large pentagram on the ground that had been confirmed was painted in human blood, black candles, books on the occult. A cage with two skeletons of human children aged between fourteen and eighteen. Ciel’s blood ran cold. The theory was offered that Ann had been practicing to sacrifice her nephew in a horrific way. The comment her redheaded friend made about the full moon being a very important factor cemented that.

It didn’t seem to Ciel that Grell was all that worried about having to go to jail. He’d face a lesser punishment than Ann because they weren’t able to prove he actually had done anything, so he got off with a few years in prison for knowing what was happening, which he didn’t deny, and not telling anyone about it.

Ann was a different story. Quiet and angry, she eventually snapped at Ciel across the room. “I hate you,” she snarled. “You stupid little bastard. You should never have been born in the first place.” Her mania must have been strong, because she closed her eyes and leaned her head back as if imagining something soothing and pretty. “You would have looked so much prettier dead.”

Ciel was shaken when the trial was over. It was wrapped up rather quickly with everyone confessing and not even denying what they had done; Ann was brought to an institutional prison in which she would spend the rest of her life medicated. They didn’t believe she’d ever rehabilitate. Grell winked at Sebastian and mouthed ‘call me’ when he was taken away in handcuffs. Ciel stepped up beside the tall darkhaired man and was curled close immediately, a kiss dropped onto his head.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” Sebastian asked worriedly, rubbing a hand up and down Ciel’s back. The boy nodded, shakily. He’d turned eighteen the day they had visited the notary for the first time and when the crew had found out, they had baked a huge cake and scrounged up presents. Today Ciel was going to tell them the truth and reimburse them. He had been given full control over the company, the funds, the estates and belongings and the title of Earl of Phantomhive that had last belonged to his father. It was a lot to take in. “I’ll be fine,” he replied and smiled up lightly. Sebastian leaned down and kissed him gently. “Let’s go then, you have a party to go to.”

Ciel wasn’t able to fully enjoy the party; having to tell his friends the truth about himself felt like a betrayal. He had lied to them, after all. After today, the circus would have to take the ferry to France; their tour had been delayed a few days because of his trial, something else Ciel felt bad about. He was planning to donate a hefty amount of money to the circus as soon as he got his hands on the bank accounts. He was also planning to turn the Phantomhive manor into a museum. The art and old furniture in it were priceless, and the trial and what Ann had done had spurned myth and scary stories from the locals that connected the family to many serial killers of the past, most noted Jack the Ripper. Ciel didn’t feel bad at all about exploiting that a little; there was no harm in it and it would please the Londoners, who were on fire for scary, dark things.

But he would miss Sebastian terribly.

“It’s just half a year,” he told him…or rather, Doll and Beast, who were hanging onto him in the harbor and hugged him tight enough he had trouble breathing. “Guys, seriously, I will stand right here the moment you return. I promise.”

“Snowy,” Doll wailed. “Are you sure you can’t come along? Please? I need you!”

“Yes,” Beast said. “Betty’s babies need someone to feed them! Just when I got used to you. Life is rough.”

“Oh let the kid breathe,” Peter rolled his eyes as he strolled past, patting Ciel on the back. “I’ll see you in six months.”

One by one, they said their goodbyes and went onto the ferry. Sebastian was last.

“I’ll miss you,” he said, cupping Ciel’s cheek. The boy smiled up at him. “And I’ll miss you. Call me when you get settled for the evening.” Sebastian leaned down to kiss him. “I will.”

**

A lot was done in the half year Ciel could concentrate on his business. The company had done rather well even without guidance from Vincent and he left it in the hands of a very capable man called Agni, who had run it as chairman in the last years. Ciel, always having been a smart kid, finished his A levels with top grades; he’d done nothing but read the past years after all. By the time Sebastian returned to Britain, he was enrolled in university for his business degree and interning for Agni, so he could take over the company eventually. The manor had been cleaned and opened for the public and was a great success. Ciel had gotten his driver’s license, too, something Sebastian had lamented for a long time when he’d told him about it on the phone.

Ciel was beaming as, half a year after seeing them off, his friends returned, hurrying down the ramp so they could tackle-hug him. He had rented two large houses for their winter break so they could relax.

Sebastian was another matter.

When Ciel had proposed to him that he could stay with him in the townhouse, just one street over from the rented ones, Sebastian had been worried first what would happen to the buildings if he didn’t keep his crew under control…but living with Ciel was too good to pass up.

Sebastian was almost asleep already in the bed they shared that evening when Ciel scooted closer and nestled in against his front. “Sebastian.”

“Hmmm?” Ciel smiled and kissed his throat. “I missed you a lot.” One garnet eye cracked open in interest. “Oh?”

“Mhmm.” Soft kisses rained up and down his neck. Then there was a little, playful bite and Sebastian growled, turning them over so he was hovering over the boy, who smiled up at him brightly. “You weren’t tired yet, were you?”

Ciel looked amazing even in nightclothes; Sebastian pushed a hand beneath the soft cotton shirt to feel satiny skin. He leaned down to match up their lips, brushing his own over the soft, plush ones beneath his. Ciel moaned and curled his arms around his boyfriend’s neck, fingers tangling in dark hair. Their kiss became deeper, wetter, and Sebastian shifted so he could comfortably occupy the space between Ciel’s spread thighs.

It didn’t take long for them to lose all clothing. Cocooned in the blanket and comforter, their warm skin grew hotter against one another; Ciel mewled when Sebastian’s mouth found the curve of his neck and kissed and sucked it until the spot was pink, matching the color of his nipples, which the older found next. He kissed and licked the tender nubs until Ciel’s breath hitched and he squirmed beneath him. “Seb- oh…” Ciel’s excitement rubbed up against Sebastian’s flat stomach and the other couldn’t help but smile as he sank down further to lick that, too.

When Ciel was near insensate with pleasure from Sebastian’s mouth and relaxed and wet from his lubed fingers, Sebastian turned him over onto his front. “It’ll be easier this way,” he murmured against the curve of Ciel’s back, a growl in his voice. Ciel was so tiny still that he feared he’d break him if he folded him in half on his back. The boy still whimpered when he came over him and carefully pushed into the snug, upturned ass, but each of his thrusts rubbed Ciel’s cock into the soft sheets beneath them, so pleasure very quickly outpaced the discomfort. “You’re soft,” Sebastian purred against the back of his boyfriend’s neck, fingers grasping the sheets hard on either side of Ciel’s head so he wouldn’t just ram up into the fresh hole. To keep his mind off the need to completely claim the boy hard and fast, he busied himself kissing Ciel’s neck and shoulders.

It was rewarded with a series of mewls that grew into cries as soon as he was fully inside and putting pressure against Ciel’s deep, sweet spot. “You can…oh, god….please, Sebastian, move,” panted the boy, hanging his head until his fringe brushed the mattress. He did move. Sebastian shifted so he had more traction, allowing Ciel to spread his legs wider too, and sped up until he was ploughing that sweet behind and Ciel was moaning loudly, clawing at the sheets. The boy came before him, whimpering and biting his lips, and Sebastian allowed the pulsing of Ciel’s orgasm to pull him over the edge as well.

He rolled over to let Ciel cuddle up to him, watching the pretty face, how his dark eyes were hazy with pleasure, lips bitten pink and plush. “I love you,” he told him tenderly, brushing dark hair from his forehead.

Ciel’s smile was the sun.

“I love you too.”

Series this work belongs to:

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[fandomlife-giver]

His Maid, Chance Encounter: 2/ At The Funeral: 1

Summary: The red spider lilies blazing in the fields. The red cardinals singing in the trees. All must eventually wither and die. Falling prey to the deadly laws of nature. Please excuse me. I cannot allow myself to be affected by such vulgarity. I shall have to dispatch him in a deadly efficient way.

Next time on Black Butler: "His Maid, At the Funeral." You see, I am simply one hell of a maid.

Pairings: Eventual Sebastian x Demon!reader

@wintersdoll

Warnings: Violence, character death

Word Count: 2760

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Grell had immediately began to attack Sebastian after his statement. He swung his chain saw at him, but Sebastian had moved and dodged it every time. "Ooh, yes! Please run away! We can play tag, Bassy!"

Sebastian jumped back, only for the chain saw to come right near his face. He quickly caught it, which made him get backed up against a wall. "But see what happens if you're not fast enough—you get cut. It's more fun when it hurts a little bit though, isn't it?"

As their fight progressed, you had turned your attention to Madam Red and focused on the task of protecting Ciel. "You're still the Queen's guard dog, which means that now I'm your prey." Madam Red stated as she stood in front of you both, Ciel only looked down, while you shielded him.

"But if it's hunt or be hunted..." She began as she pulled out a dagger. "There's only one thing I can do!" She shouted as she ran towards him.

You pushed him to the side, resulting in her blade slicing the side of your arm. You yelped and moved back, clutching your arm in pain.

Wait. Pain?

You looked down and sure enough, you had blood running down your arm from the fresh wound.

And it hurt, man! Wtf?!

You looked over at Madam Red, who was hunched over and noticed her blade already had blood on it. She must've used the same blade to kill the prostitute. Hopefully, she wouldn't get anything important, or you would be screwed. The blood of the dead was like poison to you if it collides with yours, you weren't exactly sure why, but you had a feeling it had to do with your mixed genes..

Sebastian had glanced at you, his eyes widening in surprise at your pained reaction to the injury.

"You're a doctor! How could you do it?!" Ciel questioned in shock.

"You wouldn't understand if I told you!" She said, without facing him. "You're just a child!" She yelled as she turned around.

She went to grab Ciel's throat, but you pulled him away. She growled and instead, grabbed your throat. You stared at her as she snarled at you.

"Let her go!" Ciel demanded.

"You... You brat..." She muttered as she turned to Ciel. "You shouldn't have been born in the first place!" She yelled as she swung the blade down, stabbing you in the chest. You gasped with your eyes widening as Ciel stared in shock.

"(Y/N)!" You heard Sebastian yell.

She was breathing heavily as she stared down. You used all of your strength to grasp onto her arm, making her look at you. "Angelina...do you honestly believe you can murder the son of your sister?"

Her eyes widened as she looked back at Ciel. "Sister!"

She pulled the blade out of you and backed away just as you heard the sound of something slicing and blood splattering.

You looked over and saw Sebastian running towards Madam Red. "Stop, Sebastian! Don't kill her!" Ciel yelled, making him stop just as he reached out for her. She dropped the blade and backed away.

Sebastian deeply exhaled and dropped his hand, grasping his arm that now had a large gash on his shoulder. "My, Sebastian, your arm..." You muttered.

"Oooh, how sweet you are, Bassy!" Grell said as he pulled out his chain saw from the wall and turned to him. "Really, what a prince. Sacrificing your own poor limb to save our beloved N/N..." He began to walk towards Madam Red.

"On the other hand, you're a disappointment, Madam! Come now. Hurry up and kill the brat already!" He said as he stopped in front of her.

Madam Red buried her face in her hands and started to cry, before looking up at Ciel with watery eyes. "I loved my sister... I loved her husband... I loved their child..." She muttered, before clutching her stomach. "I can't. I can't kill him. I can't kill their beloved son..."

"Really? You're getting soft-hearted on me all of a sudden? After all those deaths?" Grell asked with a shrug. "If you don't end him, he'll end you!"

Ciel stared at her. "Madam..."

"But... this dear boy..." She said, before turning towards Grell. "This child is my—Ugh!"

She was cut off by Grell, who had ran his chain saw through her heart.

All of your eyes' widened. "Too late for that! How disappointing!" He then pulled it out of her, making her body land on the ground.

"What use do I have for you if you're just another woman!?" He said just as strands of cinematic tape began to come from her wound and roll; it displaying pictures of her.

"Is that her?" Sebastian asked as you clutched your chest and moved over to stand next to him.

"A part of the reaper's job is to replay and examine the memories of those who are on the To-Die list. From that, we determine what kind of person they were, we see from their own perspective what kind of life they lived, and we decide whether they should live or die..." Grell stated as you watched it roll.

"Their lives flash right before their eyes." You summed up.

"Oh please, that's such a pedestrian term! It is so much more than that. This is the reaper's true power: the Cinematic Record!" Grell exclaimed as her Cinematic record began to play.

Flashback...

"Rachel, Angelina, come say hello to our guest, Lord Phantomhive and his maid, (Y/N)." Rachel's and Angelina's father stated as he gestured towards Vincent, who was sitting on the couch, with you behind him.

I had hated the red hair I inherited from my father.

"Your hair is very beautiful, An. The color of spider lilies. Red suits you very well." Vincent said with a smile as he stood next to her out in the garden.'

But I came to love it after all. I came to love the color red. I came to love him.

"An, I have wonderful news!" Rachel exclaimed as Angelina walked in to see Rachel and Vincent smiling and laughing on the couch, holding hands as you stood behind them with a smile.

My sister...Once again, I hated the color red. But... I could never bring myself to hate them. Eventually, I, too, met a man and got married.

As it played, you walked away, towards the room where you had found the body. You didn't want to stick around and hear it, because you've already witnessed everything, plus you were weak and needed to feed. You crouched down to the body and stared at it, before opening your mouth, retracting your fangs and leaning forward.

"What do you think—a boy or a girl?" An's husband asked as he was crouched down and rubbing her stomach.

She laughed. "Men are so impatient. How would I know that yet?"

It didn't happen at all in the way I wanted it to, but still, I thought I'd found happiness...

"That carriage hit someone! Call a doctor, quickly!"

Then it all slipped away...

"Your husband died instantly. And in order to save your life, we were forced to remove your uterus and your unborn child with it. I'm sorry, but we had no choice..." The doctor informed as An sat on the hospital bed.

Everything... Everything slipped away from me...I lost the man I had learned to love... and the child I loved so dearly before it was even born. The stain spread...It covered everything...That color I so hated... the color red...My sister was buried with the man she loved. If only... If only my heart had been buried in the ground along with them.

"Honestly, a child would only be in the way. I don't know who the father is, and my customers wouldn't like a child hanging around." The prostitute said as she flipped her hair while sitting in front of An.

I had lost everything in my life. That woman had what I wanted most... what I would never get the chance to have again...And she threw it away without a second thought. I wanted to stain her too...I decided to stain everything red, with my own hands.

"My, my! That was quite a little show!" Grell stated as he walked up from behind her while she was crouched down in front of the prostitute's body.

That's when I met my blood-red grim reaper. A few months later, my missing nephew suddenly reappeared. With him, he brought a butler dressed in black...a butler that was a spitting image of the maid I grew to love as family. I got at least one thing back.

The child of the man I loved... and my sister. If this child could come back, then why couldn't my beloved? If his maid could come back, then why couldn't my sister? Why wasn't I the one he chose to marry?

I finally decided that I would right all the wrongs I had been dealt. You've taken everything!

As the record finished, so did you. You looked down at your arm to see it had already started healing. You sighed as you stood up, wiping the blood that was now covering your mouth and licking it off your fingers. Your fangs retracted as you walked back outside, seeing her record had ended.

Ciel stared at you, but you didn’t look at him as you walked back over to Sebastian, with your wound healing and your strength returning.

"How beautiful you were dyed crimson covered in your victims' blood. I loved you so." Grell said, before he removed his coat and threw it somewhere as he walked over to her body. "What a disappointment you turned out to be in the end. You don't have what it takes to wear red." He said as he took the red coat she had been wearing and slipped it on. "Your cheap little melodrama ends now. It's over, Madam Red. Goodbye." Grell picked up his chain saw and walked away, with you and Sebastian staring after him.

'Are you alright?'  Sebastian asked inside your mind.

You said nothing and walked over to Ciel, staring down at him as he closed Madam Red's lifeless eyes. "Well, what are you waiting for?" He questioned, making Sebastian stop as he walked over. "I thought I ordered you to put an end to Jack the Ripper."

"Well, in all honesty, young master, you never gave me that order." You recalled.

"I'm ordering you now! It's not over yet." He stated, making Grell stop walking. Ciel turned around and looked up at the two of you. "One is left. Both of you, stop standing there and kill him!"  

You both looked at each other and smiled, before looking back at Ciel. "Certainly." Sebastian said, before you both turned and walked to stand behind Grell.

"I was going to spare you—professional courtesy and all that— but if you insist, I'll send you both and the boy to heaven all together!" He yelled as he started his chain saw and turned around, swinging it towards your heads.

You both ducked and smiled at him. "Heaven? You're joking." You said as you both swiftly jumped up, landing on the roof of a building behind him. Grell's eyes went wide. "We know nothing of heaven." You said with a laugh, before he turned around, only to get a kick in the face from Sebastian, who jumped down and landed in front of him.

"You would kick a lady in the face?! Where are your manners, sir?!" Grell scolded.

"Yes, Sebastian, that is not how a gentlemen acts." You added with a smirk as you jumped down and landed behind Grell.

"You're right, (Y/N). Terribly sorry. You see, I am simply one hell of a butler." Sebastian said as he turned around to face Grell.

"Ha! You think two demons like you can beat a reaper?" Grell said in disbelief.

"Certainly. You see, if our master tells us to win, then we shall win." You said as you looked back at Ciel.

"You care a lot about that puny little brat, don't you, (N/N)?" Grell questioned. You didn't answer, and only looked at Ciel, who looked back at you.

"I'm jealous. Demon or not, you both shall still be destroyed if I reap you with my death scythe. Aren't you frightened?"

Sebastian smiled. "Not at all. You see, we both belong to our masters. Our own soul and our body, down to the last hair are theirs. Our contracts remain, so we follow their every order."

You looked back at Sebastian. "That's what it truly means to be a servant." You finished as you looked at Grell.

He grinned and rose up his chain saw, running towards the both of you while laughing. You both moved and jumped up as he swung at you. "Here we are, a demon and a reaper!" He said as you both looked down at him, landing on the ground.

You went to kick him, but he jumped up. "I suppose we'll never resolve this, Bassy." Grell said as you both also jumped up towards him. "These feelings that we have are forbidden. Oh, my! It's just like Romeo and Juliet!" Grell exclaimed as he and Sebastian grew closer, until Sebastian gave a face of disgust.

"O my dear Bassy! Wherefore art thou my sweet love Bassy?" Grell said as he clutched his heart with a smile.

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at Grell and shot up, punching him in the face. Grell landed back on a roof top, with you and Sebastian landing on the roof opposite from him. "If you would deny thy master and refuse thy name, I know that we could be happy together..."

Sebastian smiled. "The moment my master uttered my new name, the word became our solemn contract. I was re-baptized as his, and his alone. At least, until (Y/N) will give into her being my mate for all eternity." He added as he looked at you.

You sighed. "Now is not the time, Sebastian." You said in annoyance as you looked at him.

He clicked his tongue and looked back at Grell. "From that day, I have been Sebastian. By yonder moon I swear it."

"To swear by something inconstant as the moon, how I can believe your words?" Grell questioned, he then stared at Sebastian's eyes that were his usual demonic pink-slitted. "Yet I see your eyes and know that they do what your lips and hands long to do. You caress me softly with your unworthy, devilish gaze!"

"Oooh! It's too much, Bassy! I would bear your children if only you let me!" He gushed.

This time, it was you who gave a look of disgust, because the very image of that made you want to throw up. "Honestly, would you please stop that... It is revolting."

"Urgh, you treat me so coldly, (Y/N). I imagine it is only your own act of jealousy." He said as he started his chain saw again, all of you beginning to run towards each other.

"Beautiful tyrant!" Grell exclaimed as he swung the saw underneath Sebastian, who jumped and spread his legs.

"Fiend angelical!" Grell swung at you next, but you leaned back.

"My dove-feather'd raven!" He swung at Sebastian's face, but he blocked and grabbed Grell by the collar.

"Oh, Bassy!" Sebastian held the chain saw in place with Grell still holding onto it. "Bassy my love... If only cruel morning would never come! Then the two of us might go on like this forever. Our love permanently lit by the moon's seductive glow." He stated before leaning forward and in Sebastian's face.

Grell suddenly roughly hit Sebastian on the forehead with his. "But, no, I'm afraid our adventure ends here. Shall we part with a passionate kiss?" He said as Sebastian fell back. "No, then good night, my love, a thousand times good night!" He revved his chain saw and sliced Sebastian across the stomach.

You growled and went towards Grell, but he had sliced your side mid air and kicked you off the roof, making you fly through the air and land on the ground near Ciel.

"There now, surely your Cinematic Record would be far more interesting than any human's!" Grell said as strands of cinematic tape came out of Sebastian, like it had to Madam Red.

"Mmhmmm..." Grell hummed with a grin as Sebastian's cinematic record began to play.

A flash of a past memeory of Tanaka, sipping tea popped up. "Mmm?"

[grelleswife]

My Kuroshitsuji OCs

Thought I’d share a few picrews of some of my Kuroshitsuji OCs, since I don’t talk about them enough!

The first three are my beloved Sebagrelle OCs: Rose, Xander (or Rhea, depending on how they feel), and Viola Sutcliff-Michaelis

Next, we have Countess Rachel Angelina Phantomhive, my Cielizzy OC. Yes, she inherited Vincent’s beauty mark. :3 Sweet but feisty, and a badass lesbian swordswoman.

The lady with the playing card is Giuseppa Ricci, an Italian reaper OC who will eventually be shipped with Grelle. An opera singer and mafia hitwoman in her human life, she’s bold, passionate, flirtatious...and deadly. She may not have her glasses on, but she could still slit your throat with that card if she wanted to!

The OC depicted in the last two picrews is a newcomer who I haven’t discussed at all before now. This is Penelope George...or Stella Georgiou...or Ruth Anne Donadieu...she has powerful enemies, so she’s acquired a few aliases over the years. Generally, though, she goes by Penelope (or “Penny/Pence” for short). Penny isn’t entirely human; she’s one-fourth demon, and traces her lineage back to hell’s gentry. Although I still haven’t settled on who her demonic grandparent is, I’m pretty sure they’re mentioned in the Key of Solomon and claim a higher rank than Sebastian. Penny wields the power of the evil eye (or mati, in Greek), and hence is capable of cursing people with a single glare. However, due to her partially mortal nature, using this power causes her to weep blood and leaves her weak and depleted. She can also grow fangs and claws and wields a modest amount of demonic magic. Though she has superb vision, she wears enchanted glasses in public to avoid accidentally laying a curse on someone. Penny tries to live a quiet life, writing novels under various pen names and flying under the radar of nemeses who want her dead. But the night Grelle Sutcliff appears to reap her maid’s soul, Penny falls head over heels for the goddess and finds a new muse. Things become still more complicated when Penny’s enemies are implicated in one of the Watchdog’s cases, which brings her into contact with our earl and a certain devilish marquis...

I have no clue what I’m going to do with her yet, but she’ll eventually wind up in a poly relationship with Grelle and Bassy if I ever write something for her!

Picrew link for most of these is here.

Link to the picrews with the book and the card here.