Hello Lovelies!

Oh how I've missed you! You have no idea. It's been terribly hard not to post sooner, but I couldn't. I can practically weep at the injustice of it all. As many others often do, I've been fighting with the ever merciless strands of Writer's Block. The bane of all writers as it were.

However, I've been working really hard to stay ahead. Not sure if I'm winning of not, but we'll see. I hope you like this chapter, you've waited long enough for it, but I promise there's still lots to come!

As always, I would like to offer a sincere thank you to all of my readers, and an equally warm thank you to the people who take the time to review. It makes my day(:

I don't own Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji.

Ta,

Majix

Cautious fingertips slid effortlessly back and forth over the pale skin of Ciel's back, careful not to wake the sleeping teen.

To say that Sebastian was lost in thought would've been an understatement. The course of their relationship had changed forever. There was no going back, no denying what'd happened. He could taste it, the faint corruption to the younger man's soul in their last few kisses. Regardless of whether or not Ciel chose to acknowledge what happened between them upon his waking, they would both know. They would both know that Sebastian had been inside of the Earl, that he'd taken him apart one stroke at a time.

For as long as the demon continued to exist, he would never seek to purge the look of absolute bliss that'd consumed Ciel's features during their coupling. Young features normally chilled with indifference and unwavering pride had twisted with pleasure, with vulnerability.

Sebastian looked down to his sleeping lover and took in the beautiful sight that he made. Fresh bruises slowly bloomed across milky while flesh from where the demon had gripped his hips to hard, sucked to roughly on his neck. The younger man still smelt of passion and lust mixed with his natural scent, but below it all lingered the faintest trace of sulfer. To any other human, it would go by completely unnoticed but to an immortal, it was a clear warning. This boy had been marked, scented by a demon, a powerful demon, and he was not to be touched by any other.

Gentle skimmings lead the immortal's fingers into the messy strands of Ciel's striking blue hair, slowly massaging his scalp. The revelation of the boy's love had been, by far, the biggest surprise of the evening. While Sebastian often prided himself on his observational skills, he had missed this one big deduction. Human emotions remained complicated in their own way. Almost always messy, but the demon had the advantage to see their complexity through the eyes of an outsider, a being that'd both experienced and removed himself from the situation, but in a certain sense, his ignorance to this one big surprise remained, within his mind at least, unforgivable.

How could he have overlooked something so absolutely trivial to his Master's daily life? The younger man liked to believe that he was above what he saw as the lesser human emotions. He often said that caring was not an advantage, that emotional investment only caused distraction, an opening for weakness, but like so many other mortals, the Earl had found a way to contradict himself.

Ciel Phantomhive had fallen in love with a creature of the night, a devil, a stealer of souls.

Sebastian could think of no greater disadvantage, no bigger form of sentiment, of clouding human emotion.

It wasn't the first time that one of his contracts had fallen for him, the darkness housed behind the barrier of soft human flesh, or the smooth baritone charm that dripped from his voice like ink from a quill. Though not common, as his contracts weren't usually lengthy, it did happen from time to time. Many of them thought that their love would quell his hunger, that he would spare their souls, yield to their emotion, that he would feel for them as well. It was not so.

When the time came, as it always did, their souls were all that mattered. The demon cared very little for their feelings, for the fear they suddenly found themselves faced with. In some ways it disgusted him, the things those mortals felt for him. Who were they to love him? What of him did they love? It was a facade, a gentle coaxing of thought that they loved. Each master told him who he was, what he was to become.

But this boy..

An inquisitive gaze once again fell upon the sleeping teen. Aside from his revenge, the Earl had sought only truth. He didn't ask Sebastian to be anything but what he was within the bluenette's company. He was harsh, demanding and cold, but beneath it all, Ciel was painfully human. Wracked with terror and unforgettable shame, left with a past that he could not forget.

But Ciel Phantomhive didn't try to forget, he strove to remember, to feed his hate, to let it drive him, and yet, it never consumed him entirely. There was something different about Ciel, something that had always stood out to Sebastian. He could never place just what that difference was, only that it sat there, staring the demon in the face. Even now he couldn't see what it was, what it'd always been.

Even so, he knew that yet another thing had been added to that difference, that separation. Sebastian didn't find himself disgusted with the younger man's sentiment. Quite the opposite. The immortal found himself wondering when that'd happened. Had Ciel always loved him so? The demon assumed not, but it was always hard to tell with the prideful male. He was, after all, quite unique.

Sebastian also found himself quite startled that the teen had managed to hide such a thing from him thus far. The ravenette didn't consider himself without flaw, as much as he liked to believe he was, but he certainly wasn't a fool, let alone an idiot. However, the fact remained that he'd missed it.

Somewhere along the way, his Master had finally grown a heart, a heart that housed a dangerous secret within its beating walls.

An affectionate smile graced Sebastian's lips as he ran his fingers through his lover's hair, watching with nearly amused interest as the teen burrowed into the covers, rubbing his cheek against the soft cotton of his pillow. Sebastian couldn't say that he was surprised really, that the Earl had found yet another way to be special, to prove that his life was worth living. That very thought had crossed the butler's mind more times than he was comfortable admitting and with each day that passed, Ciel Phantomhive proved himself more and more worthy of the rebirth that he'd been given.

Most humans squandered their life. Going from place to place, seeing but not experiencing. They saw streets and shops and carriages, but it meant little to them aside from their daily lives. People died and new ones were born, the endless circle of continuation. So very few of them chose to actually live, to leave a mark.

The Earl of Phantomhive was a shadow, the strong and swift scalpel of the Underworld. He was tasked with cutting away the pieces that'd grown heavy with infection, the segments that threatened the whole.

Some of the truly elite knew of his profession, the darkness he held, but it was never spoken of in polite company. Many of the accomplishments made by the Earl himself, along with his ancestors, would never be known. But Sebastian knew.

The ripples of time were not always as linear as they appeared. While demons were not infallible or omniscient by any means, they were more savvy to the world behind the veil than humans. If Sebastian had learned one thing above all others over the course of his life it was that every single choice had an outcome. A consequence. It was almost ironic, the largest changes, the most disastrous events caused by the tiniest shift.

All it took was a simple choice to change the world.

Perhaps not all at once, in some cases it'd taken decades, centuries even, but the cogs still turned, and the world experienced change in the end. For really, that's what Ciel was. A changer of futures. Capable of both inflicting pain and remedying it, of taking life, and reshaping others.

It would be interesting to see what became of his unspoken legacy, to follow the ripples that he'd created over the course of time.

But the ripples kept coming. It'd started out with his parents, as many things do, and it'd grown. The road was unpleasant, full of angst and tears and pain, but there they were, along for the journey. Sebastian was merely a passenger, an observer along for the ride, watching, waiting for the pieces to fall as they may and it was close.

Sebastian didn't claim to know the future, to know how events would come to pass, but he could feel it. Of course, he already knew the truth behind the scenes, the nasty little secret that'd lingered unseen, festering and growing like a disease. He knew where it'd all begun for Ciel, how the fire had started, who made it happen. It was truly right under the Earl's nose, waiting to be found, and Sebastian had a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn't be much longer now.

The pieces were set, waiting to be played. All Ciel had to do was see them for what they were, to recognize the board and the pawns and ultimately, the other side's King. He could never be sure, but Sebastian had the deepest feeling that the circus would tell them many more tales than the one they sought. More than just missing children would be revealed below the stage makeup and the smiles plastered upon the faces of the performers.

The circus was due to arrive two days from now, they were set to preform that very night, and as the demon stared down at the restful figure of his companion, he couldn't help but to feel that it was, truly, the beginning of the end.

Broken and alone, Alois laid quiet and still within the sheets of his bed.

The stoic butler had eventually returned, dragging the defiled teen back to the tub. The maids were less rough with him this time, but he cared little for their "kind" treatment. His face remained blank, his limbs heavy. Time passed by in spotted chunks, gaps in his memory where the teen would simply disconnect, separating himself from the torment.

Often times, the blue eyed boy would "wake" and realize that several hours has passed without his knowledge, that he'd once again sunk beneath the dark surface of his conscience. He felt without thinking, concentrated on the texture of the sheets, the rhythm of his breath, the darkness of the canopy, and within moments his mind became blank. Free of fear and humiliation at the hands of Earl Trancy.

In those moments of silent stillness, Alois could momentarily forget the disgusting feel of clammy hands against his flesh, the brutal treatment of his body and the way it felt when the Earl violated him, ripping past his defenses with little thought. The blank sense of self pushed away the loss of his family, the blood of his brother, the pain of his broken body. It promised escape, but the moment his conscious returned, it flooded back tenfold, drowning him within the terrifying sensation of recollection.

Alois pulled the sheets more tightly around his body. Regardless of his disgust, the blonde couldn't bare to think of himself as Jim Makken any longer. That part of him was lost, destroyed by violence, blood and smoke. He would never again be a carefree child, untainted by the darkening world around him, he would never be pure.

Unadulterated rage coiled tightly in the pit of the teen's stomach and all he could think of was the building hate, the countless fantasies of murder that housed themselves within his ever beating heart. Alois longed for revenge, so much so that he could almost seem to taste it with every breath he took. There was nothing else but that. No family to return to, no home to run to. He was alone in the world, guided only by himself, his own choices.

Once upon a time, Jim Makken had prayed beside his bed, asking for forgiveness from the Almighty, the Father of all creatures, but as Alois laid curled against himself, all he could think was that the players had found themselves on opposite sides of the board. It was God who should now be praying for his forgiveness, the Almighty creator that should be groveling before him, apologizing for all he'd suffered under his watch, for the pain that'd been inflicted, for the anger that festered just below the flesh, for the hate that'd taken over his heart, for the fear that consumed him like the relentless strains of plague.

But in this moment, Alois cast away the absurdity of that thought. There was no God, no higher power that watched over the human race, playing the silent protector. And if there was, why should Alois make room for such a merciless God in his heart? A seemingly omnipotent being that'd watched as he suffered, as he screamed in pain, as he was brutally used and cast away for the sheer pleasure of the struggle, the agony and the sadistic bliss of rebellion.

No, in this moment of silence, of clarity and darkness, Alois wished with all his heart for something sinister, for malicious intent and pain. Within the embrace of his sheets, Alois Trancy wished for the power to hurt, to break and extract his revenge, to let his rage unfold and destroy all that remained in his path. Under the cover of darkness, Alois wished for the ability to commit murder in the name of a God that had abandoned him to the wolves.

It was then that the shadows began to grow, twisting and writhing in the most unnatural of ways. The previous sense of wrath evaporated, chased easily from the room by the growing darkness, but Alois was not afraid. He watched with rapt attention as the figure of a man was born of the shadows, walking from them with all the graceful silence of oil sliding across glass.

He was tall, taller than most mortals with curling black hair that refused to be tamed. Pale skin sat in high contract to his black uniform clad body. As the being approached the awestruck boy, Alois took in the details of his face. A fragile set of glasses sat perched on the elders straight nose, bringing out the high shape of his cheekbones and the regal look of his face, but beneath it all was a dark look of indifference that chilled the blood within his veins.

It reminded him of the man on the horse, the dark nature that remained hidden, masked behind blank uncaring features that spoke little of the man they belonged to, and as Alois looked up at the figure before him, he could think of no better irony. The indifference that'd destroyed his life, invaded his dreams and haunted his every waking thought would be used to bring his enemies to their knees, to instill fear in their hearts, to destroy what precious moments they had left.

They would feel what he'd been forced to endure, they would answer for their crimes and the pain they'd caused. His innocence would be avenged.

"I have been called, that much can never be taken back. For this, your soul shall never pass through the gates of heaven, but if you turn back now, you shall not know the raging inferno below the ground humanity walks. Choose, mortal."

For the briefest moment, Alois considered what the being said, the words he spoke. He thought of Heaven and Hell but regardless of the warning he'd been offered, Alois Trancy could not find it within himself to turn away the offer that'd been presented to him. For wasn't that what he'd asked for? The power to hurt, to seek revenge. His wish had been heard, answered by the Dark King, of whom he'd always been taught to fear. But it was not God that had saved him, that'd responded to his pleas for help, his cries for mercy. It was Lucifer, the fallen Angel that'd heard the echoes of his heart, that'd seen the darkness he wished to cast upon the world and granted him the means to extract his revenge.

It was darkness that answered his beck and call.

"I accept."

A malicious grin cross the golden eyed demon's lips as the teen waved away his warning, "What is your wish, child?"

Alois crawled from his sheets, approaching the male at the end of his bed. Darkness radiated from the immortal's snowy flesh in thick waves of promising power. It was intoxicating and as sky blue eyes gazed up into the seemingly endless pools of gold, the blonde could think of nothing else but his revenge, of the pain he longed for.

"Serve me until my revenge is complete."

A malicious smirk twisted the elder's lips as he looked down into the face of his prey. The demon could practically hear the boy's thoughts, his power induced greed. It coated his senses like a balm, melting any previous worries he may have housed within his blackened soul. This boy would be his, he would rip the soul from the blonde's shell, leaving him empty and hollow before moving on to the main course, his ultimate goal.

In the Spider demon's mind, Alois Trancy wasn't worth his time. He was a tool, a means to an end, just as he'd been to the merciless Earl just hours before. The blonde teen was his bridge to Ciel Phantomhive, a gluttonous indulgence that he couldn't help but to capture. Already, the immortal had put more effort into him than he'd originally wanted to, but he'd had no other choice.

And to be honest, he enjoyed the agony he'd caused the teen. It served as a revenge of sorts. Though the immortal wasn't killed in this timeline, he'd still been bested by Alois in another time, another life, and that couldn't be allowed to go by unanswered. Alois would never know what he'd done to deserve such a fate. If the golden eyed male had his way, Alois would never come to find out that anything was amiss.

The blonde would complete his revenge, or at least, he would believe that it'd been completed. He would willingly let go, giving the Keeper his soul, and he would pass on into the Inferno. If the Spider demon had his way, Alois would never know of his impending betrayal, the pain he sought to cause or that he'd been the cause behind his misfortune. The blonde could never know the truth behind Luka's death, the part the demon had played in it.

Normally, the golden eyed immortal would ask his mark where they wanted the seal. It was a point of begrudging courtesy among demons and their human contracts, but this really wasn't a contract to him. It was a quick meal, a lie in the making. He wasn't really fulfilling the boy's wish, he was merely making him think that the revenge had been completed.

As such, the demon had no problem darting his hand out to grab a fist full of the teen's hair, pulling his head down and exposing the back of his neck. The skin was surprisingly unmarked by the violence that'd left its various reminders across the blonde's body, but it wouldn't be for long.

"W-what are you doing?!"

Calm golden eyes looked down at the startled face of his prey and he smirked, "Hush child, it will be over in a moment."

With practiced ease, the demon pricked his finger, watching with detached interest as his blackened blood pooled against his skin. Nervous anticipation radiated from the teen below him in thick waves, and the sadistic male took a brief moment to enjoy it before pressing his finger to the sturdy column of Alois' neck.

The effect was instantaneous. Blue eyes shot open in startled panic and a raw scream ripped itself from his throat. Desperate fingers clawed helplessly against the teen's skin, leaving dark red welts as the fire spread, sinking into him with surprising speed. It was as if his very flesh was being burned away, leaving the muscles exposed to unyielding pain.

Nothing in the blonde's life had prepared him for this experience, the seemingly endless pain that enveloped him in a smothering and inescapable fog. He could feel it, the darkness carving itself into his very soul as the demon marked him.

As quickly as it'd begun, the blinding agony evaporated, leaving the teen to pant helplessly before falling to the sheets. Sweat slicked his skin, making the teen feel uncomfortable and mildly sticky, but he managed to look up at his demon, catching the sinister look that'd crossed the creatures features.

Alois opened his mouth to speak, but found that he could barely get any of his words out. They all shook, falling apart against his lips before he could utter them.

Without a word, the dark haired male handed him a glass of cool water and Alois gladly accepted it. The first touch of the cool liquid against his parched lips felt like absolute heaven and before the teen knew it, the glass was empty and his demon was taking it from him with graceful fingers.

Shaky fingers pushed the damp blonde strands from his face and Alois looked up to his protector, "What do I call you?"

Golden eyes met sky blue as the demon kneeled at the edge of his bed, "Claude Faustus at your service, your Highness."