**Spoilers for Seasons 1 & 2**

So, I recently watched both seasons Kuroshitsuji and promptly fell in love with the whole premise and characters. But I was a little let down when I found they had entirely rebooted the show with Book of Circus. There was so much potential for the whole demon!Ciel story arc that they threw away. So, this is my idea of what would have happened if the writers had continued with that storyline. It's an idea I've been playing around with lately. Let me know if you think it's worth pursuing. I hope you all enjoy!

He had never been to this part of Hell. In fact, most demons went out of their way to avoid it. Had he not known exactly who he was seeking, and been very desperate, the demon would not have even bothered. But he did know who she was and he was desperate. And she was the only one who could, and even remotely would, help him.

Her home was composed of a stone so dark it made the sky and desolate land around it look pale grey in comparison. It was a castle that reached high into the deep night sky with its severely twisted towers and sharp angles. He stopped before the large double doors, trying to force down the urge to run that threatened to drown his rational mind. Or perhaps it was his irrational mind, as this errand was certainly not one any sane being would attempt.

The doors slid open without warning, revealing a pristine white that very nearly blinded him. The difference was startling and the demon took a minute to allow his eyes to adjust. Everything within the black exterior was the same shade of white. White tile floors, white paint on the walls, white vaulted ceilings accompanied by white chandeliers letting of soft white light from white candles, even the few furnishings were white. His nose wrinkled in distaste as he realized how much his presence resembled a stain in her home. It was probably how she regarded him, anyway.

His black boots clicked across the floor, echoing through the hall obscenely. She knew he was there, of course, and was waiting for him. He dreaded coming face to face with her. It was his situation, which had given him no other options, that drove him to dance with a death that would be far more than painful if he missed a single step. As he walked, specific doors slid open as if leading him to his destination.

He found her in the parlor, her back turned to him as she gazed into the white flames of the fireplace. She, too, wore the white that surrounded her. It would have been a beautiful gown, it's back plunging down to the base of her spine before flowing into a shining material that could have been sewn from water and starlight, had it not been for the long tears it had that traveled the from the hem of the skirt to mid-thigh. The rips allowed the skirt to fan out around her, revealing glimpses of the skin-tight trousers and sharply-heeled, knee-high boots. Her silvery hair hung straight as a sword all the way down to her waist.

There were no windows in her home, blocking out the dark light that would have otherwise filtered in and sullied her pure atmosphere. He noted her favorite weapon, a beautiful torture device consisting of three wickedly curved claws hooked to the end of a long chain, on the dais close to him. It didn't fool him, though. She could easily tear him apart with her bare hands if she wanted. It was why she was a Prince of Hell.

Biting his tongue, the demon knelt before the woman. It was a gesture he had only ever offered those who he held a contract with. But he knew it would be foolish not to give her the same respect. It might prolong his survival infinitesimally. She acknowledged his move with an almost imperceptible turn of her head.

"Good evening," she said, voice like steel beneath velvet. "It's quite the surprise to find you here. I never took you for a fool."

The demon grimaced, "Fate forces one into terrible situations."

"What are you calling yourself this time?"

"Sebastian Michaelis."

Her laugh rumbled through the room like the purr of a cat, "The French inquisitor and prior who wrote a classification on demons? You always were one for wordplay and clever tricks."

He waited silently, uncertain as to whether or not she was going to turn around and kill him within the next few seconds. He could hear the smile in her voice when she spoke again.

"Why so quiet, Sebastian?"

His name rolled off her tongue viciously. Each syllable seeming to be dripping with poison. For the first time since he was given the name, he found he was not so fond of it. She laughed again and the demon winced visibly.

"I know you have come to request something of me," she remarked. "Name it and I will continue to mull over how I shall end your existence."

"I would ask your aid in a…personal matter."

Her words were sharp when she said, "I had thought we already established such. Do not dawdle, old friend. It doesn't suit you."

"It is about my contract."

"What do I care for your tainted human souls?"

Sebastian smiled for the first time that afternoon, knowing what he had to say would capture her attention, "Ah, but that is why I chose to form a contract with him. His soul has steeped in wrath and envy, even tasted revenge twice, and yet it is still pure."

Her head cocked to the side, revealing a sliver of alabaster skin, but she still did not turn towards him.

"Then it is quite a feast he shall make for you," she said, her voice carefully apathetic.

"He would be, yes, were it not for a slight complication," he countered. "A demon by the alias of Hannah Anafeloz transformed him into one of my kind by the order of her human master."

"You believe this Hannah was a demon?"

Sebastian faltered at her words, "She called herself such."

There was another laugh, this one high and cold, "A mere demon has no such power. Only angels and certain powerful pagans have the ability to succeed in such a feat. Surya is the true name of the creature you met. She was a goddess before she found being a demon was more liberating. Tell me, did she travel with three men?"

"Yes," he answered, remembering the triplets well.

"She always did love her harem," the Prince muttered. "I still do not see what this has to do with me?"

"Before he was transformed into a demon, my master gave an order that I was to be his butler until the day I consumed every last fragment of his soul."

The silence that permeated the room was practically tangible. Sebastian remained in his kneel, waiting for her response. The room shook with a laugh that rivaled even the Undertaker's, though her voice remained soft, and the demon was visibly taken aback.

"Forced to be a lowly butler until Judgment Day," she chuckled. "I could not think of a more befitting fate myself. I see no reason why I should help you."

The demon grit his teeth, "I would rather die than serve any master for the rest of eternity-"

"Precisely why I shall do nothing," she pointed out.

"If you were to reverse the transformation," he spat out, "you could not only keep Ciel's soul for yourself, but use it as a bargaining chip to regain what was taken from you. You could return to your home."

Sebastian gasped as a hand tipped with long talons closed around his throat and lifted him from the floor. His human façade fell away at the woman's grip and his clawed hands tugged at the arm holding him above the ground. Gone was the beautiful Prince who had stood at the mantle. Instead, he was met by a skeletal creature with white silk bound over where its eyes should have been and rows of needle-like teeth. It ripped off the silk ribbon with its free hands, revealing white flames burning deep in its eye sockets. The entirety of Hell seemed to shake as it spoke, though the words were no more than a low rumble.

"After all you have done, you dare traipse into my home unannounced and flaunt such hollow promises to me? You, who instigated the wrath of those who made me into this. You, who turned and walked away as they took everything from me. I should rip your very essence apart and scatter you for the hounds of this godforsaken world to devour."

The demon floundered in the grip of the Prince, swirling burgundy eyes wide as he watched it. He had fought angels and reapers, but the creature before him was so much more. It had the ability to draw out a number of long and torturous states of being that barely qualified as living. Not only did it have the means, but it had a damn good reason to do so, as well. For the first time in his existence, he was afraid.

"Give me one good reason why I should trust you," it snapped. "Or I shall find such a way to punish you that Lucifer himself would be envious of the ingenuity."

This was his chance, he realized. This was the moment in which Sebastian could play his trump card. It was uncertain whether or not it would work, but it was the only piece of information he had left. The idea was a long shot, but the alternative was certainly much more unpleasant.

"My master, Ciel Phantomhive, is but a child."

He hit the floor faster than he had expected. On his hands and knees, Sebastian gave a cough before looking up. The creature had returned to its form of a beautiful woman. Her features were sharp and delicate – fey was the word humans would use, he knew, but she was a far cry from the fair folk. Her irises were pale silver that was only distinguishable from the rest of her eyes by a ring of pure black surrounding them. Her full lips tugged up in the most elusive smile he had ever seen.

It took all his strength to keep from smiling triumphantly. In the time he had known her before she had become a Prince, she had always had a soft spot for children. She had often punished those who went through abortions or committed infanticide. If the rumors were true, she had continued to do so in Hell. It seemed that some things would never change.

She looked down at him with a cold smile and empty eyes, summoning a rose into existence with the flick of her wrist. The nail of her index finger grew until it was one of the needle-like talons that had held his throat a minute before. She wasted no time in slitting her wrist and letting a few drops of golden blood drip onto the white petals.

"I will help you," she stated, holding out the rose to him. "I will save you from your fate in exchange for Ciel Phantomhive's immortal soul. You will not protest when I take it. If you attempt, in any way, to renege on your end of the bargain, your blackened soul will be mine to do with as I please. Do you understand?"

Sebastian pulled off his glove with his teeth as she watched him, revealing the contract mark on the back of his hand.

"I understand," he replied.

Raising his arm as if in offering, Sebastian watched as she ran the claw over his wrist. Red blood welled from his skin and ran down his wrist before falling onto the rose. It mixed with her own, causing it to glow like the sun before fading to a shining copper. She tucked the rose into his lapel, capturing his bleeding wrist before he could pull it back.

Kneeling down to his level, she traced the line of blood with her tongue before placing an open-mouthed kiss on the cut. The demon hissed in pain, snatching his hand back from the woman. She chuckled softly at his reaction as she stood up once more. Her hand trailed over his cheek and down the length of his jaw until she could tilt his face up with two fingers under his chin. His eyes shone scarlet, the color swirling as his pupils narrowed to slits.

"I accept your contract," she whispered, the scent of his blood on her breath. "However, there is one thing you must do before we begin."

"Anything you wish," he breathed, his own voice hoarse, though he would never dare acknowledge the true reason as to why.

That elusive smirk crossed her lips once more as her fingers carded through his black hair, "Sebastian Michaelis, give me a name."

The demon looked up at her reverently, a smile of his own gracing his features.

"Yes, my lady."