Black Butler Oneshots/Lemons

Sebastian and Ciel

This is a short story I had to do in my writing class, I thought it'd be great to publish here

I'm sorry for not updating, I recently got a new phone so I'll be able to update more and I've run out of ideas.

I have a few requests but I'm not sure how to fulfill them.

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The burning red eyes of the crow watch its prey, a boy, just a regular boy about to lose everything. The same boy will summon him, soon he thought, the boy who lost everything, his house, his family, his future. He will call for him.

Ah, to hear the terrified screams of the boy as he runs through the halls of the burning mansion, the same mansion where the boy was born and raised, desperately searching for his parents, a servant, anyone. Not yet though, it's not quite time for the crow to be called, shouting cursed words into the dark abyss, only then will the crow appear.

The boy is searching hard now, smoke is filling is weak lungs as the raging fire claims and destroys the boys home. Two hands suddenly grab the boy, large and strong they hold him still as he struggles to escape their grasp, he calls out for help only to receive no answer. The boys' piteous cries of help amuse the crow, the crow is watching, listening and waiting patiently for his time to act. It sounds demonic, the amused sound the crow makes, ah, but that's what it is. Demonic.

The boy is knocked unconscious by a hand that holds a chemical drenched rag, the hand presses it against the nose of the small boy and his body falls limp. His weak and powerless body is vulnerable, along with that soul of his. It's sweet and pure but soon to be lost to the darkness; a tasty treat for the crow.

The same boy will awaken hours later in a cage, surrounded with other boys and girls his age, all of which have lost their will to fight, knowing that all escape is impossible. Hands grab the boy again, he struggles as he's pulled out of the cage, more hands grab him and push him to the ground, his face is pushed into the grimy tiles. The hands are replaced with chains, chains that the boy struggles against before his shirt is pulled up, panic floods the boy's mind even further as he sees a white-hot branding iron being raised from a fire. The branding iron is pressed against his left side, eliciting a scream of pain and terror that the crow finds most amusing, it only feeds the crows amusement more when he sees the boy cry out in pain, his form struggling away from the iron in a desperate yet pointless attempt to escape the pain.

When the iron is removed a mark is clearly visible on the boys left side, red and angry, daring the boy to touch it, which the boy's shirt does. The boy is thrown back into his cage, the cage he will call home for a month, the only food the boy will get is what's fed to him through a funnel that is held in his mouth and pushed through the bars on the cage.

Only one other boy is left with him in the cage, the other boys and girls already being killed, that boy is his twin brother. They're twins, mirror images of one another and all that the other has left.

On one special day, the men and women who own the boy will gather, a sacred ceremony is to be held, a ceremony that requires a victim. The cage is unlocked and the boys brother grabbed, they call to one another as the boys twin is forced to lay on a slab. The crow watches in amusement as a man wielding a dagger chants words that mean nothing, words that are hoped to summon a demon. The dagger is plunged into the stomach of the boys brother, the boys eyes widen and he shouts the cursed words, the crow chuckles darkly to himself. Now. Now is the time for him to act, to appear to the boy and supposedly save him.

The crow appears to the boy in a swarm of black shadows, shadows darker than the darkest black, the crow chuckles as the boys eyes widen more than they were, the boy gazes upon the shadows that hide the form of the crow. He reaches out to the crow, desperate for help, the boy eagerly forms a contract with the demon, the goal of gaining revenge. Revenge, a stupid thing that the boy chose to keep him alive.

Once the contract is made the crow changes forms, one that would be more suitable for the young boy to look upon, he changes into a butler, raven hair and pale skin. The only thing that truly remains of the crow is the burning red eyes, grinning he bows to the boy, his very own little master and utters three words as he puts his hand where his heart should be if it weren't centuries dead.

"Yes, my Lord."