A/N This is the first fic I've decided is good enough to post, but characters will most likely be OOC.

Reviews and favourites will determine how often I update, so if you enjoy this story then please let me know~

Disclaimer:

Titanic belongs to James Cameron

Kuroshitsuji belongs to Yana Toboso, not me- if it did then Will and Grell would have gotten together instantly XD

This story features yaoi because yaoi is GOOD.

Chapter 1

With a sigh, I grudgingly followed Angelina up the gangplank; I didn't see why we had to leave the comforts of our own country just for a wedding.

"Grell," my father purred threateningly from right behind me, making me shudder in discomfort, "I will accept none of your childish behaviour or whining on this journey, you will act accordingly as a gentleman of your stature- you wouldn't want to damage our name, or embarrass Lady Durless, would you?"

As were the only concerns for such a man; he who cared little for the true happiness of his only son, and greatly for power, status, and money.

"Of course not, Father," I replied calmly, more than accustomed to his threatening aura.

I'd never been able to determine whether he simply had a foul personality, or was only so menacing because he was a demon- either way, he was not a man to be messed with.

"Then stop dragging your heels, straighten your back, and follow your fiancé as though you feel that way," he hissed, digging a claw into my spine, my ruby suit becoming a little too hot.

Fiancé, the word itself made me blanch- the very thought of marrying her sickened me.

It was, of course, a forced marriage arranged by my father, in which I had no say; I simply had to marry the woman to become equal in wealth, status, and power- which was just what my father wanted.

All that he wanted.

He would claim that we needed the money, as we had lost everything but our name when it was revealed that my mother had committed a great crime, and then been executed, or that a family union of Human, Demon, and Reaper would be beneficial to our position as the latter two were swiftly dying out.

His other excuse was that Angelina was just as fond of the colour red as I was.

I didn't care about any of that; my only wish was that he had been the one to die, not Mother- she would have never even considered forcing me into such a pained life.

Flipping a lengthy lock of crimson over my shoulder, I stepped aboard the ship that would be dragging me away to America: RMS Titanic.

It was meant to be the 'Ship of Dreams', but to me it was simply the vessel that would carry me to my demise.

That wedding would be the end of me, and I had no way of escaping; despite my years, I wasn't experienced enough to know how to open portals like most reapers- real reapers.

"Grell dear, come on," the red woman called from up ahead, making me skip after her to avoid a scolding from both her and my father.

In all honesty, the ship was indeed impressive; once I was aboard I finally realised what everyone had been gossiping about.

The interior was beautifully decorated, the walls embossed with brilliant wooden panelling that only added to the elegant atmosphere.

We were led straight to our quarters by one of the crewmen, caring little about waving our country goodbye.

I'd be back- no matter what it took, or how long it would be, I would lay eyes upon Big Ben once again.

"Hello there, Auntie," a young, arrogant voice greeted, stopping me in my tracks- no one had mentioned that he was coming.

"Oh, there you are!" Angelina beamed at the small, eye-patched, blue haired boy that cockily leaned in the doorway, "I was so worried that you weren't going to come."

"Hello Ciel," I nodded curtly to him, studying his rather basic dark green outfit consisting of a white shirt, a green jacket with matching shorts, a royal blue neck tie, his usual long dark socks, and a pair of dull brown shoes.

"Reaper," he acknowledged me with a one-eyed glare; apparently he'd lost the other one in a hunting accident and wore the eye-patch to hide the hole.

Grudgingly strolling into the room behind my betrothed, I stalked off into my private quarters, stating that I hadn't been feeling well on the journey to the port and needed to lie down, the only people permitted to enter my room being those carrying our belongings.

Angelina called out to tell me that we were about to cast off in case I wanted to watch, but I had no interest in waving farewell to my home; I knew that I'd return someday, with or without her or my father.

Preferably without.

That first day dragged on painfully; boring at first, livening up slightly when picking up passengers from France, before ending in a terribly dull dinner with the other first class passengers that were flaunting their wealth.

Some days I wondered if I'd be happier poor, but chose not to dwell upon that.

That was simply my life; endless, boring parties with the snobbish class that I was born into, being scolded and lectured by my egotistic father, and having to put up with my overconfident fiancé.

I doubted that Hell would be any worse than the endless loop of events that passed through my life, even big events such as getting married in America wouldn't have an impact on the high class way of life.

It was the same everywhere.

At almost noon the next day, additional people were picked up in Ireland, at which point my father constantly tailed me, as if he were subtly assuring that I wouldn't try to escape my fate with the lady in red.

To top off the mind-numbing boredom, I also craved what I shouldn't; I needed to kill, to feel my blade slice through flesh, decorating the walls with my favourite colour.

But, I couldn't, I'd have hell to pay for that.

It was late afternoon when I had headed out onto an empty section of decking above the main deck, letting out a long sigh as I leaned over the rail to observe the people below.

How free their lives must have been- no person bore a frown and everyone had someone at their side, no matter what relation they were to each other; some had most likely only just met, but the fact was that each of them had someone they could chat with.

And there I was, alone.

Alone in a terribly crowded life.

My eyes rested on one particularly interesting looking group of people that were just arriving at the outer rail.

Two of the men wore plain black suits, one with chestnut hair that hung neatly at the sides of his face, and a pair of plain oval glasses, the other with elegant black hair that was tightly combed sideways and backwards so that not a single strand was out of place, and certainly not in the way of his face that bore a pair of silver rectangular spectacles.

Such perfection in both of them, though the black haired one a little more so; there was just something about that divine perfection that made me want to untidy him, to scruff up that flawless exterior and find out who he really was.

Who knows, perhaps behind that proper face hid a scandalous man- someone I wouldn't mind getting to know on a more personal level.

Or not.

That wouldn't be right at all.

But, deep desires never are.

Also in the gathering was a pair of bizarre looking men wearing identical shocking yellow suits; clearly very wealthy to afford such finery. One of them had blonde hair on one side and brown corn rows on the other, and the other sported wild blonde hair at the front and black at the back, the first of the duo wearing oval glasses with a slight blue tint, the second with pentagonal ones similar to my own but larger and black instead of red.

They both looked so carefree with their bright colours and wild hair that dared people to question it.

Though, my hair and clothing were hardly tame, but I was forever caged.

The fifth and final member of the group seemed more than slightly ominous; I couldn't quite tell if they were even male or female due to the long silver-grey bangs that covered their face, and the long black robe and grey sash that hid any identifiable chest protrusions, though I was leaning more towards male at the black top hat that was perched atop their head, a lengthy piece of shadowy ribbon from it flowing down the silver locks at the back.

A curious group indeed.

"I can't wait to see what kind of party they're holding here tonight!" the blonde and black haired man grinned, leaning casually against the rail, "What was last night's like?"

"Parties aren't exactly our type of pastime I'm afraid," the brown haired one smiled slightly, nodding a head to the other black suited man.

"Really?" the man with the corn rows gasped, and then threw an arm over his yellow suited friend, their grins mirroring each other as he winked at the brown haired man, "We partied so hard back in Ireland that we had to leave in case we destroyed the place!"

At this, the grey haired person burst into hysterical giggling, making three out of four of them jump out of their suits.

"Looks like we've got a couple of party reapers here!" the unidentified person laughed in a high, yet most definitely male voice.

Reapers?

Without letting another second pass, I hopped up on top of my rail.

"Excuse me?" I called quietly, knowing that if they were indeed reapers, they'd be able to hear me without a doubt.

Three pairs of double green eyes and a mass of silver hair looked up at me, the black haired man seeming not to hear by his delayed reaction, just following everyone else's line of sight, dim two tone green eyes widening when they met my own.

I gave an excited giggle; I'd finally found others of my kind.

Sort of.

"Looks like we've got a lady reaper," the grey haired man grinned, most likely a reaper himself or at least someone who knows what reaper eyes look like, "how can we assist you, my lady?"

A musical little laugh slipped from my lips at that.

I'd never been called a lady in such a sincere way before, even though I regarded myself as a woman, and I did seem female with my long and exquisitely well kept red hair, red and black high heeled shoes, and general personality.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I've never seen other reapers before," I grinned at them all; even the one that didn't seem to be one, exposing my daunting shark-like teeth to them.

"A lonely god of death, dyed crimson by the blood of her victims," the robed man sighed, "our numbers are indeed dwindling."

"Regardless of species, one such as yourself shouldn't even be talking to third class citizens," the black haired man snapped, glaring at me with such cold eyes, piercing into my very heart like a needle.

That icy look was so powerful, similar to the burning glares that my father gave, and that is what truly angered me.

"I'll speak to whomever I wish," I growled at him, my voice lowering menacingly, "most people of my stature wouldn't even look at the likes of you, but you're no better than them and their judgemental ways with your immediate rejection!"

Naturally, I had no control over my temper.

"Please excuse my brother, Miss, he's been in a foul mood recently," the brown haired reaper quickly apologised, shooting the black haired man a glare, though it was nowhere near as fierce as the one that was directed at me, "William, you owe this woman an apology for your unacceptable manner towards her."

The expression of the man that was so coolly glaring at me darkened considerably at his brother's words as he turned on the black suited reaper.

"Don't believe for one minute that you have any authority over me because you are with your own kind. No matter what happens, I am your older brother and should have your respect," William stated, his voice monotonous despite the anger in his eyes, sending strangely pleasant chills through my body, "or have you forgotten all that father taught us?"

The brown haired reaper's eyes narrowed as he gave a smirk.

"Do you recall the lesson about reapers having higher authority than humans?" he snapped, and then panic crept into his eyes as he threw a hand over his mouth as though it would undo what had just been said.

Apparently that had been a grave mistake, as William's fist flew towards his younger brother's face before another word could be exchanged.

The reaper quickly summoned his scythe to defend himself, the rectangular blade flat in front of his face to deflect the power.

Instead of letting his hand smash into the otherworldly metal, the black haired man halted his fist, and instead kicked the pole of the scythe upwards.

He landed a hard kick on his brother's chest as William caught the scythe.

The man with the rectangular spectacles leaned one foot on the reaper's chest, pinning him down, and swung the blade at his neck, stopping just short of making contact with the flesh.

The rest of us stared in shock at the display before us; each one dazed by the sudden turn of events.

"Still have the notion that you are superior to me?" William hissed at his brother, making him wince and shake his head as much as he could without cutting his neck on his own blade, "I want to hear you say it. Tell me, Alan, how someone like me can so easily overpower and force you, a reaper, into submission."

If the circumstances were any different, I'd have loved to let him try to force me into submission, but there was a time and a place for such thoughts.

No, there wasn't really any time or place for thinking of that with someone I'd literally just spoken to, and hadn't even gotten a friendly response from.

I couldn't help but feel impressed at the man's disarming skill, and the speed at which he could have killed his brother, and the absolute show of dominance over him.

Sweet dominance.

In all honesty, that was the type of person that I needed to keep me in check and deter me from any sudden urges to kill; there was only so long my father's intimidation would strike fear into me.

Alan let out a lengthy sigh, and a slight nod of surrender.

"Fine, you win; you may not be a reaper, but you are better than me," the downed brother proclaimed with a huff, eyeing his scythe, "I'm sorry for what I said, it was out of place."

With a satisfied nod, William straightened his glasses with the pole of his brother's scythe, before lowering it to help the younger man up.

"So, if everybody is finished being so violent," the silver haired man growled, flicking his hair aside to glare pointedly at William, who had simply returned to his stony state, with authoritative, aged dual green eyes.

It was considered rude to stare, but I couldn't pull my eyes away from that cold man; his looks alone were enough to drive me insane, but knowing that he held such strength and fury within that perfect body made my temperature rise by a few degrees.

"Perhaps this lady is into that sort of thing," the cornrowed reaper grinned, nudging the other yellow suited reaper, who also grinned at me with a nod.

"Perhaps indeed," I laughed; not one of my usual restrained laughs, or even an insane one, but a free, musical sound, "I'm Grell Sutcliff, a reaper to die for; it's great to meet you all."

"The name's Ronald," the reaper with the pentagonal frames chuckled, and then poked the reaper at his side, "and this is my brother, Eric."

"Everyone just calls me the Undertaker," the oldest of the group giggled, sending ripples through that silky grey hair.

"My name's Alan, it's an honour to meet you, Miss," the young brown haired reaper smiled, though his tone seemed edgy as an after effect of his brother's assault.

It warmed my lonely heart to hear such honest warmth directed at myself after so much neglect.

"Ah, I should tell you now to avoid awkwardness later, that I'm actually a man," I admitted, sounding abashed as I rubbed the back of my head, "though I know perfectly well that I look female, so don't worry about it."

"Oops, sorry, Mr Sutcliff," the Undertaker apologised anyway, only for me to wave it away with a smile, "you certainly aren't someone to ever be defined as normal, are you?"

"Of course not; that'd just be ridiculous," I giggled, thoroughly enjoying the strange conversation that separated me from the world I was trapped in.

Maybe I wasn't really trapped after all.

"Grell, you aren't causing trouble out here, are you?" Angelina's falsely whimsical voice reached my ears as she walked up behind me, wrapping her arms over my shoulders.

My eyes widened in sheer panic at the sudden feeling of unease; there went my moment of freedom and happiness.

I was too busy panicking to really notice how William's eyes narrowed at the sight of Madam Red behind me.

"Of course not," I chuckled, the tone sounding honest to her, but was only as true as the smile I wore in her presence, my discomfort obvious to the group before us.

"Make them jealous of you," she whispered into my ear, unaware that the majority of the other men were reapers and perfectly able to hear her demand, "make me look more desirable than any other."

I knew exactly what would happen if I were to disobey.

I grimaced at the ocean, scrunching up my eyes in distaste before painting upon my face the faux smile that I had perfected.

I turned to my fiancé, hopping off of the rail to wrap one hand around the woman's waist, and ghost the other across the soft skin of her cheek.

I cursed myself into the deepest pits of Hell as I pressed my lips to her ruby painted ones, and then pulled away after a second, not meeting her scarlet eyes as I saw her dark smile.

"Thank you, my bloody darling," she murmured as her eyes raked over the astonished group.

I didn't utter a word after that, not meeting anyone's confused gazes as she dragged me inside.

"Grell," I heard one of the men mutter, only empathy in his tone, before the outside world disappeared behind closed doors.

After a lecture about not socialising with the 'commoners' from my father, I was pulled away to get tidied up and dressed for dinner.

The ballroom was filled with its usual arrangement of painfully boring people, plus a few others that had been picked up in Ireland.

My father and fiancé shared the details of my doom referred to as a 'wedding' with the other aristocrats over glasses of champagne and a plate of caviar.

In the end, that was all that my life would or could ever be.

I felt the bile rise in my throat as I stood from the table, stating that I was feeling seasick and needed to rest, before brusquely leaving the ocean of dress suits and gowns for a more welcoming sea of darkness.