// "Don't make me your last hope..."\\ M! Reader! X Black Butler! 18+

Urge

The next day you awaken to honor the letter sent to your uncle, and visit during those events. Both you and uncle Wayne have founded a better relationship ever since he threw your name out for Earl Phantomhive. Today was a calm morning, but the calmness starts to irritate you. Can we leave now? 'Where to?' Talking to the voice as you're selected apparel was that suit the voice suggested.

After some breakfast and mingling with your Uncle you depart, with him at the door calling out, "Again! Do be careful!" Moving onto the streets, you decide to put your mind at rest and fill it with that urge. Finally, enough with the noble life. Hearing that comment you wonder the streets looking for excitement. Yet the excitement you search for finds you instead. A young lady is heard screaming in the distance, you rush over to see her getting robbed.

"L-Let go!" She's gripping what seems to be her handbag, "Nonsense love. You owe us." One man grunts as she's surrounded by five people. Let's hurt these guys. 'Couldn't agree more!' You call out, "Hey guys!" Looking at you bat in hand you smirk, "I heard you guys fight like a bunch of sissies. But then again, now seeing how you're handling this woman. I can tell it's because you're ran by women." Letting the girl go she runs away, the man that released his grip slowly approaches, "Well if it isn't the curse of Wayne." 'What is he talking about?' I assume since your family knows the Phantomhives closely now, the underworlds nickname for them is the Queens Guard Dog. Guess yours is The Curse.

'I like it.' Thinking that devilish smirk is formed on your lips, "Alright, now shut up and fight." All five rush you, you grab a nearby brick throwing it hard at one man. He collapses as another jumps over his limp body. One comes at you raising his fist, you thrust your bag against his stomach. He recoils in pain and you spin around to avoid an attack from a pipe. "Man you guys do fight like girls." Taunting them makes the three remaining rush at you, in a split second their all lying on the ground. They're grueling in pain while the bat disperses from your hand, 'Thanks again.' Of course.

Taking out a cigarette you walk by the men defeated either in pain or knocked out. "The... the curse is real!" One says standing up limping away, then runs into a sprint. 'Huh, hopefully no one will fuck with us now.' Us? 'Well we're in this together now right?' Seems so. Lighting up the cigarette and walking the alleys, you're stopped when turning a corner from a quick slash. Something sharp almost hit you as your cigarette is chopped in half. 'Close one.'

Pausing for a moment you see in a dark alley a man dressed in a white coat, hair in a knot, its white. A rapier for a weapon is strapped on his hip, he's sitting in a chair sipping what seems to be tea. A table is there covered in a crimson sheet, "Oh good you've finally arrived. Right then." Setting down the tea cup he pulls out a small book, "(Y/N) Wayne, you were born in October sixteen years ago, dead when you saw your parents were killed in front of you." 'That doesn't sound correct.' It's him. 'The reaper you mentioned before?' Yes. 'At least he's not like Grell...' Be careful.

You approach slowly, "Look obviously theirs been some sort of confusion so if you can-" You stop when the ground infront of you is slivered slightly. Now standing up, the reaper holds his rapier in one hand and a book in the other. "Please, I dislike people that interrupt me." Closing the book and placing it in a small pouch behind his back he talks, "(Y/N) Wayne. You being alive and killing some people proposes a problem for the world. Their for I've been dispatched to deal with you." 'This guys serious.' Hearing that you spit out the split cigarette in your mouth, "Well you chose a bad time to do this. Surely someone will notice us if we fight now." Hearing that the reaper presses his glasses up, "I'm listening."

You offer a proposition, "We deal with this situation at night. And sorry what's your name?" Sheathing his death scythe he answers, "Jacob." Hearing that you further the deal, "We'll take this to the rooftops near my place of residence here. Agreed?" Jacob then has a counter argument, "I have to recommend at least ast sunset. I'd rather deal with this sooner rather than later. This case has been troubling me for some time." 'I'll just have to drag it out for a while I guess.' You nod, "I agree, see you soon then."