Hello Simply Hopeless, ak.a. Assassin's Kiss here wishing everyone a Happy Valentines and all that stuff. I didn't think I would right something like this or the other story I am putting out now, at this time. I was going to update it later at different times but after seeing a deviantart picture of an adult ciel holding a chibi Sebastian in his lap, this had to be written. I love Ciel in control and if I can't find any fics like that I'll just have to create my own because honestly this pint-sized aristocrat was born to rule over someone like Sebastian. So I hope you guys enjoy and please review. I want to know what you think and if I should continue.

Wicked Lovely

Amethyst seemed to greedily drink up the hesitant garnet gaze of his newest toy before the garnet hid themselves behind pale lids and a fan of soot black, lashes.

He was enchanted.

He wanted to see more.

His others birthday gifts were quickly forgotten, the happy prattling and clinking of silverware from his relatives were muted as he stood from his honorary birthday chair to look at the lovely demon child that his Aunt, Madam Red, had gotten him.

The demon's garnet eyes were glowing embers in a bed of pristine snow. Black, choppy locks formed an inky nimbus cloud around his head and did little to hide the delicately shells of his pointy ears. Nor did they hide the wicked ram's horns that blossomed from his hair to coil tightly into deadly points on either side of the demon child's head.

He was a little, slip of a thing. His delicate frame and slightly translucent complexion were clear signs of malnourishment, probably used by his handlers to keep the untamed creature under control. There was evidence of bruising under his eyes from lack of sleep and odd shape bruises like hand prints that gripped too hard around his exposed forearms.

The birthday boy wouldn't be surprised if there were more signs of rough handling if he dared to lift up the child's over-sized shirt that hung five sizes too big. The crisp, black men's shirt seemed to devour the small frame so that the demon child swam in it; his sleeves were rolled up several times so that the child could have use of his hands. The tail ends of the shirt fell way pass his knees to hit the shins of his bare, stocking feet. The shirt, stockings and the big, floppy, scarlet bow that was tied around the poor thing's neck, which dribbled down his chest like spilled blood, was clearly signs of his Aunt's attempts to make her gift as presentable as possible until he was properly measured for new clothes.

He had more than likely been filthy, naked and crawling with whatever filth the demon child was forced to sit in. His body locked in an iron-wrought cage, overflowing with others of his kind that dreamt of freedom and blood-soaked revenge until his Aunt had come to purchase and clean him so that he could be a plaything for a sixteen-year-old for his birthday.

There had been rumors of these dens of ill-repute that summoned and caged demon children, for the amusement of the rich. It was the devil's dumb luck that not all of these demon handlers had yet to have hell rain down its' cold fury down on these overzealous occult heads. His father's shadier business partners had just finished a bit of gossip about a den of this type being found by the policemen with the store's floor soaked and piled with the bodies of the demon handlers. Satanic books, a summoning pentagram, deceased, cloaked men in masquerade masks, bleeding in barely recognizable lumps, were some of the things reported at the crime scene. But even though the birthday boy knew that the charitable and sane thing to do would be to feed, give the demon child some proper clothing before sending it on its' way, he couldn't.

Not just because it would hurt Aunt Angelina's feelings. She knew the risk of bringing such a temperamental and controversial party favor. But because even though he knew this child's soul, if it had one, was as dark as sin and might contaminate his own; it was still too lovely to behold to just simply give him up. The birthday boy doubted he'd ever get the chance to be this close to anything so beautifully dangerous, that he could truly say he owned. No, he could never give up this fledgling beauty.

"Ciel? Ciel, sweetie, are you okay?" his Aunt called out hesitantly to him. Her red, painted lips slowly deflated from its' smile to a more demure frown of concern. Her dearest nephew had been staring a little too long at the present she had just revealed. Sure, she had been pleased that Ciel had immediately become fascinating by her most recent purchase for him. But he had yet to say a word as he silently and carefully crept close to his gift, as if it would vanish at any moment.

The demon child cowered at such intense scrutiny. His small, lithe frame quickly ducking behind the voluminous, scarlet skirt of Madame Red's to hide his scantily clad person. His dainty hand tipped in long, dangerous claws, clutched feebly at the skirts, practically shredding the fabric in his nervousness, even as he bowed his raven head against the natural curve of the woman's hip.

"Look what you did Ciel. You scared the poor thing," Madame Red, chided lightly. She tried to sound jovial despite all eyes watching Ciel's reaction and interaction with the demon child.

"I… I didn't mean to," Ciel finally said, apologetically. He looked sheepish, straightening so that he was no longer eye level with the demon child. He hadn't even realized that he had involuntarily crouched down to get a better look at the specimen.

"He's beautiful," he choked out suddenly.

"So I did choose well for my precious nephew," Madame Red said, beamingly. Her chin raised just a little in superiority over the little baubles that were shunted to the side and forgotten after the birthday boy had unwrapped them.

"Yes, yes," Ciel murmured distractedly. His patience was clearly worn thin because just then his fingers reached too quickly to touch the bowed, raven head, only to have them start bleeding as tiny fanged teeth clamped down on his hand, refusing to let go. He swore colorfully, earning a scandalized gasp from his fiancée Elizabeth and hearty chuckles from one or two of his Uncles.

The demon child glared, eyes flaring pink, iridescent black wings expanded to their full feathery wing span in warning to the impudent human that dared to brazenly touch his person without his permission. He may now be owned by this blue-haired man with the startling blue eyes, but that didn't mean he would easily kowtow just because he had been given a few pieces of clothing, a simple meal, and a proper bath.

He had been ripped from his home by humans. Forced into cramped quarters and fed scraps like something that wasn't highly intelligent and capable of destruction if given full reign.

This situation was just slightly better than the previous one because as aforementioned he was cleaned, clothed, fed and allowed to stand up properly. He was still in chains, even if that chain was a thin runic leather collar hidden under his bow that lead to a gold chained leash wrapped around his purchaser's wrist. Even his primary feathers had been clipped off to prevent him from flying out and escaping; although he was fortunate compared to those demons in captivity whose wings were sawed off, leaving feathery stumps growing from their backs because of their many attempts to escape.

"CIIIEEEELLLL!" squealed out a young blonde woman dressed in too much lace and frills for someone of her age. She had rushed to the blue-haired Ciel's side as soon as she got over the shock of him cursing. Her big green eyes tearing up as she looked at his captured hand before she glared at the hellion that did this.

"Lizzy, please don't cry. You know I can't stand tears. Look I'm not crying and I'm the one being bitten," Ciel explained between clenched teeth. He looked warily at the demon child, unsure how he could unlock the child's jaw without risking having his fingers being bitten clean off for his struggles. All he knew for sure was that his fiancée squealing in his ear and jostling his arm was not going to help the sixteen-year-old aristocrat at all.

"Eximo!" Madam Red, said with all the authority that was afforded her blue blood.

Suddenly the runes on the demon's collar glowed a faint yellow as soon as the order was called out in perfect Latin. The demon child was forced to unhinge his jaw. His pouty lips smeared red with the blood of his new master.

"How did you? What did you do?" Ciel demanded, looking from his bleeding knuckles to his Aunt and then down to the demon child that dared to bite him.

"His collar has been spelled so that a lower-class demon has no choice but to obey its' handler. It's how so many have been captured with little to no incident. Just speak the words in Latin and he'll have no choice to obey. However once he gets bigger you'll have to get a stronger spelled collar or earn his trust enough that he will obey you willingly with no need of a collar or a contract," she instructed carefully so her nephew could take her words to heart.

"Are you sure she still want him, son?" Vincent asked, as he clapped his big hand on his son's shoulder. His voice was colored with both amusement and concern for his only heir. They were Phantomhives and their pristine aristocratic lifestyle tended to be stained with their ties to the underbelly of London. But the current head of the Phantomhive line had dared to dabble and the occult.

"Really now Angelina, that was such a careless gift to give your nephew," Ciel's mother and Madame Red's big sister chided the red-head even as she took up her son's bloodied hand. She pulled out her handkerchief and carefully wrapped it up until their family doctor could properly look at it.

"I have one of my own. You've met Grell. I thought if I could tame mine somehow than surely Ciel could—" Madame Red began, defending herself. Although it was clear she was unsure whether she did right by her nephew if he had already come to harm. Just like any pet, each one had a different personality and one as dangerous as a demon, needed to be taken care of carefully. Even if they made the perfect accessory once they were tamed properly.

"Sebastian." Ciel suddenly spoke up into the sudden storm of opinions being thrown out, including one relative offering to take the demon off his hands.

"What?"

"Huh?"

"Come again?"

Were the sudden reply of several uncles and aunts, along with a curious gaze from his parents and fiancée.

"That's going to name my new toy, Sebastian," he said firmly, his decision made as he reached for the leash with his uninjured hand.

"You are naming him after your deceased dog, Ciel? Isn't that a bit mean?" Elizabeth said in a staged whisper. Her big, green eyes looked down at the hellion before quickly looking away as soon as the garnet orbs began to narrow in anger.

"He needs to know his place like a dog would. So no, Lizzy, I think the name is just perfect for him," a hard smile tossed at the newly seething demon child. He was determined to tame him because he was Ciel Phantomhive and once his, always was his.