Kuroshitsuji Fan Fiction ❯ Surface ❯ Awakening ( Chapter 1 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: tweekthetwitch13 
Anime/Manga: Kuroshitsuji Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Romance / Mystery / Drama | Type: Shounen-ai | Uploaded On: 06.08.2009 | Updated On: 06.08.2009 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.0K | Visits: 702 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Kuroshitsuji Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Romance / Mystery / Drama | Type: Shounen-ai | Uploaded On: 06.08.2009 | Updated On: 06.08.2009 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.0K | Visits: 702 | Status: Work In Progress
Okay so since the Finale of the anime I’ve had this idea stuck in my head. I’m sure I’m not the only one with a similar idea…but oh well. Here we go. (I’ve never written anything very dramatic before either. So there might be a few vaguely amusing things, but I’ll try to keep it true to genre)
Possible warnings? : SPOILERS FOR EPI …1-24. Aka the entire series. Canon to Anime plot line, made up from finale’s ending on. Homosexual relationships. Grell. Mentions of rape (Ciels past). Author with a total lack of knowledge on any of the places she mentions. Probable OOC-ness. Author tends to update every blue moon. (Mentions of Demons consuming humans! I don’t just mean souls. I don’t believe this counts as cannibalism, but anything eating people should probably be up on the warning section.) Un-Beta'd So much, very very much is probably horribly wrong. Sorry sorry.
Disclaimer; I do not own any of the characters from Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler. Get over it.
----- Awakenings.
Screams and bloody flashes burst forth into his subconscious, disturbing his slumber.
Flashes of memories that weren’t meant to be his flowed into his head, as an unrelenting storm of anger and hate.
Faceless hands grabbed and ripped him, destroying everything that was once sacred and pure.
The fire was too real, so bright, and so painful.
The monster that was birthed from the flames was inhuman and unholy and far too familiar.
In another bright flash everything was gone in an obnoxious white.
The white was gone in a flourish of black and wasn’t missed.
Red blossomed forth from his chest, dripping in a sickly way, but it welcomed.
Everything would be better now, so calm, and so right.
A caress.
Flowers flowed by like memories in a blue glow on the stilled waters that had once been his life.
---#
Ciel woke in a start, putting a shaking cold hand on his hammering chest. He would have looked around his room to make sure all was safe, but by now he knew there was nothing there. Nothing that could burn his everything away.
14 year old Ciel La Mer had been having these types of dreams since he turned 12. No one told him puberty would be quite this bad.
Telling his parents was out of the question. His father was a high profile French business man, his mother an ex- actress from Dublin.
They lived a very comfortable life with both incomes, in a large Yorkshire home. (Though Ciel and originally been born just outside of London.)
No, telling his parents and having it possibly get out due to the parasite like Paparazzi was not an option. However things were getting harder and harder to hide.
His mother knew there was something wrong anyway; Ciel had always been a fairly happy young lad. Acting like every other little boy, though albeit a bit smarter. So maybe not all boys preferred to stay home and play chess but otherwise he was perfectly normal.
Even when his father started leaving often on long trips it was alright. He had friends and his mother still.
However...when the dreams started it wasn’t long before it seemed to others as though he had become an entirely different person.
Demands, snide words and a general anti-social behavior were strong and came about fast as soon as the dreams arrived. Ciel realizing that if he didn’t want to end up under more scrutiny attempted to mend his behavior. But as he attempted to act like what seemed like the long ancient person he had once been, that his family and friends knew it became harder and harder to tolerate the nightmares.
He longed for someone to understand. Someone to be there for him all the time. Someone who had caressed his cheek so tenderly. Someone he knew in his dreams, this someone from another Ciel’s memories.
This someone with demonic red eyes and a cocky smile.
--#
It had taken quite some time for Ciel to fall back asleep after his latest mind attack. It wasn’t that he couldn’t fall asleep; it was that he didn’t wish to.
He had the dreams again, but this time not in the form that most would call nightmares. Times of shoes clocking on cobblestone streets of a London long forgotten and large roaming gardens.
In the morning he woke up, as usual, to the sound of an alarm clock. To most humans on this planet we live in this sound is something wholly unwelcome, to Ciel it was sweet relief to a world he wasn’t sure he wanted to see another night.
Starting his normal morning routine for the day, that honestly he wasn’t all that good at, he returned from his restroom after getting dressed to find his mother sitting on the edge of his bed. She stared at the deep blue carpet as though it was an ocean offering to swallow her up.
This probably wasn’t a good sign.
--#
And it wasn’t. To most people it would not be a good thing at all.
Deirdre McKinley-La Mer announced that her husband, Ciel’s father would be having his company’s headquarters officially moved to Montreal Canada.
And they [Deirdre and Ciel] would be moving to a large downtown Loft in New York City at the end of the week.
When asked why they not just move to Montreal as well, Deirdre replied that-
“We could, and I thought out it I did, but I realized I’d always wanted to live in New York. Can you imagine, Ciel? Downtown New York! You can make all sorts of new friends as well!”
“Yes, Mother. Teenaged British boys with French names always do well in big cities.”
“That’s the spirit, leanbh.”
Ciel decided this was a perfect opportunity. He had lost his friends in Yorkshire, didn’t have any friends in London, and did have a lot of memories connected to this home he’d rather not have.
Maybe a change of scenery would do his mind good. Or at least preferably not any worse.
That was until that night’s nightmare.
--#
It was as convoluted as always. Bits and pieces of memory would surface, but they were mottled. Like a smoke screen, or like a picture underwater. They were very rarely very clear, and the ones that were, were ones he’d rather not see. This dream was different from most, a voice clearly and loudly cut through the darkness and mess that was his night life.
This voice was smooth yet dark, hiding amongst the shadows yet never being undermined. The voice that said
“Ciel...Phantomhive...”
The face smiled, knowing, all without opening its eyes.
--#
Ciel sat up straight, like a shock of electricity had made its way through his body leaving him wide eyed and shaking like an autumn leaf.
He had never heard the last name before. No, only the first. Never, ever the last name, never the full name of his other self.
He had of course tried to look up this other person before, the person whose eyes he saw through in those horrible dreams.
But do you know how many boys named ‘Ciel’ there were at any given point in London’s history? Granted not tons, but Ciel, not knowing the date never found out anything remotely important.
..But ‘Ciel Phantomhive’? How many ‘Phantomhives’ could there possibly be?
Ciel found himself at 5:34AM on his laptop searching with almost a manic gleam to his eyes for anyone named ‘Phantomhive’ or more hopefully for a young man with a horrible past who shared his name.
He did find out there was a Phantomhive company in the late 1800’s. One that ended up disappearing completely sometime around the London Fire in 1888*.
More importantly...That it died along with the only heir, ‘Ciel Phantomhive – age 12. Perished in the second great fire of London.’
Ciel had to know more.
There was very little information out, which seemed odd to him. A large company, with a very young heir just disappears almost completely out of the history books, (Or in this case internet)?
If he couldn’t find the information he was looking for online then he’d search the libraries, he’d search London itself. He’d search anywhere he could, he had all the time in the world after all.
Except...He only had a week until he was moved to New York.
--#
It had been such a long time, and yet the demon who had been given the name ‘Sebastian’ knew that it had been so recent. For a demon, give or take a hundred years was like a blink of an eye. To an immortal the time he had spent with the young Phantomhive heir was nothing.
And yet…It seemed to be one of the longest periods of time in his immortal life. Yet at the same time it was far too short. Painfully short.
He knew getting attached would only end in a Shakespearian type tragedy. Not that it mattered much. The second he saw those eyes he knew the boy would be remembered.
He believed just getting to serve under such an interesting human specimen, the eternity afterwards would be worth it. He just never expected to become this attached, and never expected this…regret.
At first Sebastian had no qualms about fulfilling the contract and taking the boys soul. He was a demon after all, it’s just what they did.
That wasn’t to say he didn’t care for his young master at the time, oh no. He did all in his power to make sure the boy comfortable. Until the very end, he wanted to be the very best butler a demon could possibly be.
Ciel had other ideas of course, the boy never failed to surprise him. Who knew such a remarkable creature could live within the frail body of a 12 year old boy.
If he wanted pain, he would deliver the kiss of death in such an tragically intimate way even the Gods would weep.
Sebastian remembered it as clear as crystal, how the boy’s eyes became an unseeing milky color as the remains of his soul left his already deceased young body.
As the boy lay limp in his arm, Sebastian made a choice; one he had never made before, and prior to when he met little Ciel Phantomhive, would have never made.
He decided not to eat him.
Demons would not only eat the souls of humans, but the often times the bodies as well. Sebastian was in fact one of those demons. Once a contract was fulfilled the soul of the person in question along with their body would be given to the demon. In all normal circumstances the same would have been true with Ciel Phantomhive. His body hadn’t been badly mangled before his death, in the end it probably came out more unscathed than his spirit.
Sebastian had claimed he ‘only wanted his young master’, and yet as the cold lithe body laid there he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
It seemed even after death, Ciel Phantomhive was the only being able to bring out his own ‘human’ side.
--#
In the years following the death of Ciel, Sebastian went where the depravity went. That was, when he was on Earth and not in the Underworld.
He had been to every major city on the planet , with the exception of never returning to London except once*. While London and the surrounding English towns had been some of his favorites on the planet he no longer felt the need to be there. He had been there for the Great London Fire of 1666, but he couldn’t go back and walk the streets and look at the quaint shops without imagining the young Phantomhive by his side.
(*The only time in which he had returned back to England was right after the Blitz)
Currently he resided in New York city.
He spent a fair amount of time in Japan and China as well, going to large bustling cities. Large amounts of humans in small spaces meant a better chance for him to claim a meal. Unfortunately none were quite so interesting as one single dead British boy named after the heavens.
He preferred places such as New York or Tokyo where he could be as…unique as he wished without getting a single odd glance. A place where he could blend into the background, disappear in the steam coming from the sewers beneath.
However it would be far less difficult to ‘blend’ if he didn’t have a loud, longhaired, blood red bouncing ball of obnoxiously gay Death God following him around.
A Death God who would simultaneously tease him for acting ‘too human, or ‘getting soft in your old age’ and offer him sexual favors. Which was in fact just as annoying the first time as it was the eight thousandth.
Apparently it was quite difficult to shake off Grell Sutcliffe, even if you say…go to the Underworld only to reappear on Earth on the opposite side of the planet. Repeatedly.
Sebastian didn’t let Grell ‘hang around’ him because he liked the company, or missed his Bocchan so much that he’d put up with any reminder of their past. No. In fact he quite hated that about the Death God.
It was just that if he killed said obnoxious man he’d end up in trouble with the Death God higher ups. While it wouldn’t be troublesome to kill a few Death Gods (And some might even appreciate getting rid of Grell once and for all) he wouldn’t be able to take them all on. So, for now he put up with it, or more correctly practiced his ‘Ignoring all annoying and troublesome noises’ technique. This technique is equally useful just for living in New York city.
“Mou~ ….Sebas-chan~! Hey! Sebby~!... OI!”
“I should have never let you follow me to Tokyo.”
Well it worked sometimes.
--#
Getting his mother to let him go to London wasn’t very difficult, Ciel decided. In her current state, she could be guilted into just about anything. Besides not moving to the United States, of course. Ciel, however had a plan. He would get the information he was dying to know before they went or his name wasn’t Ciel La Mer. Though in his current situation that might not be the best phrase to use.
--#
His first stop was to a large public library to check their records, where the most helpful information would probably be located.
He found the situation was the same in the British Library along with the London Library and various others in the London area; while they did in have fact have extensive records and more books than anyone could possibly wish for…When it came to anything on the Phantomhives past and more importantly Ciel Phantomhive all the records were gone.
While this was obviously very troubling to Ciel to have the records missing, but even more troubling was in many books it looked as though pages had been violently removed. These certain pages should have contained information on Ciel Phantomhive exclusively. Ciel couldn’t find so much as an Obituary.
He also checked newspapers for any information, and there were of course many papers and articles that came out on the 1888 London Fire. However certain parts seemed mysteriously blacked out, some had burn marks in P list of the people who had perished in the fire. And like with the book records, some pages were missing altogether.
For the moment he’d have to deal with the small bit of information he had gleaned from the internet.
This, of course wouldn’t stop Ciel. The people who knew Ciel best knew, that even when the boy was little and cheerful, he had a mean stubborn streak. If they didn’t have the information he wanted in a library, he’d check every Antique store in London.
---------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------######## Till next time~
Author Note;I should have written more, but I decided to end the chapter here. Sorry. Alot more will be happening next chapter.
Explanations; 1: La Mer means Ocean in French. Ciel means Sky/Heavens. 2: When his OC mum says 'leanbh' it means child/baby in irish gaelic. 3. Uh..Okay there was no fire in 1888. There was one in 1666, that is probably what the author of Kuroshitsuji was going for.
Please review! I'm trying to keep everyone in character, and probably failing..but any reviews (including contsructive are very much welcome) with the exception of flames are welcome.
I don't usually like putting japanese into fanfiction if I can help it, but oh well. If people hate it I'm sorry.
Possible warnings? : SPOILERS FOR EPI …1-24. Aka the entire series. Canon to Anime plot line, made up from finale’s ending on. Homosexual relationships. Grell. Mentions of rape (Ciels past). Author with a total lack of knowledge on any of the places she mentions. Probable OOC-ness. Author tends to update every blue moon. (Mentions of Demons consuming humans! I don’t just mean souls. I don’t believe this counts as cannibalism, but anything eating people should probably be up on the warning section.) Un-Beta'd So much, very very much is probably horribly wrong. Sorry sorry.
Disclaimer; I do not own any of the characters from Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler. Get over it.
----- Awakenings.
Screams and bloody flashes burst forth into his subconscious, disturbing his slumber.
Flashes of memories that weren’t meant to be his flowed into his head, as an unrelenting storm of anger and hate.
Faceless hands grabbed and ripped him, destroying everything that was once sacred and pure.
The fire was too real, so bright, and so painful.
The monster that was birthed from the flames was inhuman and unholy and far too familiar.
In another bright flash everything was gone in an obnoxious white.
The white was gone in a flourish of black and wasn’t missed.
Red blossomed forth from his chest, dripping in a sickly way, but it welcomed.
Everything would be better now, so calm, and so right.
A caress.
Flowers flowed by like memories in a blue glow on the stilled waters that had once been his life.
---#
Ciel woke in a start, putting a shaking cold hand on his hammering chest. He would have looked around his room to make sure all was safe, but by now he knew there was nothing there. Nothing that could burn his everything away.
14 year old Ciel La Mer had been having these types of dreams since he turned 12. No one told him puberty would be quite this bad.
Telling his parents was out of the question. His father was a high profile French business man, his mother an ex- actress from Dublin.
They lived a very comfortable life with both incomes, in a large Yorkshire home. (Though Ciel and originally been born just outside of London.)
No, telling his parents and having it possibly get out due to the parasite like Paparazzi was not an option. However things were getting harder and harder to hide.
His mother knew there was something wrong anyway; Ciel had always been a fairly happy young lad. Acting like every other little boy, though albeit a bit smarter. So maybe not all boys preferred to stay home and play chess but otherwise he was perfectly normal.
Even when his father started leaving often on long trips it was alright. He had friends and his mother still.
However...when the dreams started it wasn’t long before it seemed to others as though he had become an entirely different person.
Demands, snide words and a general anti-social behavior were strong and came about fast as soon as the dreams arrived. Ciel realizing that if he didn’t want to end up under more scrutiny attempted to mend his behavior. But as he attempted to act like what seemed like the long ancient person he had once been, that his family and friends knew it became harder and harder to tolerate the nightmares.
He longed for someone to understand. Someone to be there for him all the time. Someone who had caressed his cheek so tenderly. Someone he knew in his dreams, this someone from another Ciel’s memories.
This someone with demonic red eyes and a cocky smile.
--#
It had taken quite some time for Ciel to fall back asleep after his latest mind attack. It wasn’t that he couldn’t fall asleep; it was that he didn’t wish to.
He had the dreams again, but this time not in the form that most would call nightmares. Times of shoes clocking on cobblestone streets of a London long forgotten and large roaming gardens.
In the morning he woke up, as usual, to the sound of an alarm clock. To most humans on this planet we live in this sound is something wholly unwelcome, to Ciel it was sweet relief to a world he wasn’t sure he wanted to see another night.
Starting his normal morning routine for the day, that honestly he wasn’t all that good at, he returned from his restroom after getting dressed to find his mother sitting on the edge of his bed. She stared at the deep blue carpet as though it was an ocean offering to swallow her up.
This probably wasn’t a good sign.
--#
And it wasn’t. To most people it would not be a good thing at all.
Deirdre McKinley-La Mer announced that her husband, Ciel’s father would be having his company’s headquarters officially moved to Montreal Canada.
And they [Deirdre and Ciel] would be moving to a large downtown Loft in New York City at the end of the week.
When asked why they not just move to Montreal as well, Deirdre replied that-
“We could, and I thought out it I did, but I realized I’d always wanted to live in New York. Can you imagine, Ciel? Downtown New York! You can make all sorts of new friends as well!”
“Yes, Mother. Teenaged British boys with French names always do well in big cities.”
“That’s the spirit, leanbh.”
Ciel decided this was a perfect opportunity. He had lost his friends in Yorkshire, didn’t have any friends in London, and did have a lot of memories connected to this home he’d rather not have.
Maybe a change of scenery would do his mind good. Or at least preferably not any worse.
That was until that night’s nightmare.
--#
It was as convoluted as always. Bits and pieces of memory would surface, but they were mottled. Like a smoke screen, or like a picture underwater. They were very rarely very clear, and the ones that were, were ones he’d rather not see. This dream was different from most, a voice clearly and loudly cut through the darkness and mess that was his night life.
This voice was smooth yet dark, hiding amongst the shadows yet never being undermined. The voice that said
“Ciel...Phantomhive...”
The face smiled, knowing, all without opening its eyes.
--#
Ciel sat up straight, like a shock of electricity had made its way through his body leaving him wide eyed and shaking like an autumn leaf.
He had never heard the last name before. No, only the first. Never, ever the last name, never the full name of his other self.
He had of course tried to look up this other person before, the person whose eyes he saw through in those horrible dreams.
But do you know how many boys named ‘Ciel’ there were at any given point in London’s history? Granted not tons, but Ciel, not knowing the date never found out anything remotely important.
..But ‘Ciel Phantomhive’? How many ‘Phantomhives’ could there possibly be?
Ciel found himself at 5:34AM on his laptop searching with almost a manic gleam to his eyes for anyone named ‘Phantomhive’ or more hopefully for a young man with a horrible past who shared his name.
He did find out there was a Phantomhive company in the late 1800’s. One that ended up disappearing completely sometime around the London Fire in 1888*.
More importantly...That it died along with the only heir, ‘Ciel Phantomhive – age 12. Perished in the second great fire of London.’
Ciel had to know more.
There was very little information out, which seemed odd to him. A large company, with a very young heir just disappears almost completely out of the history books, (Or in this case internet)?
If he couldn’t find the information he was looking for online then he’d search the libraries, he’d search London itself. He’d search anywhere he could, he had all the time in the world after all.
Except...He only had a week until he was moved to New York.
--#
It had been such a long time, and yet the demon who had been given the name ‘Sebastian’ knew that it had been so recent. For a demon, give or take a hundred years was like a blink of an eye. To an immortal the time he had spent with the young Phantomhive heir was nothing.
And yet…It seemed to be one of the longest periods of time in his immortal life. Yet at the same time it was far too short. Painfully short.
He knew getting attached would only end in a Shakespearian type tragedy. Not that it mattered much. The second he saw those eyes he knew the boy would be remembered.
He believed just getting to serve under such an interesting human specimen, the eternity afterwards would be worth it. He just never expected to become this attached, and never expected this…regret.
At first Sebastian had no qualms about fulfilling the contract and taking the boys soul. He was a demon after all, it’s just what they did.
That wasn’t to say he didn’t care for his young master at the time, oh no. He did all in his power to make sure the boy comfortable. Until the very end, he wanted to be the very best butler a demon could possibly be.
Ciel had other ideas of course, the boy never failed to surprise him. Who knew such a remarkable creature could live within the frail body of a 12 year old boy.
If he wanted pain, he would deliver the kiss of death in such an tragically intimate way even the Gods would weep.
Sebastian remembered it as clear as crystal, how the boy’s eyes became an unseeing milky color as the remains of his soul left his already deceased young body.
As the boy lay limp in his arm, Sebastian made a choice; one he had never made before, and prior to when he met little Ciel Phantomhive, would have never made.
He decided not to eat him.
Demons would not only eat the souls of humans, but the often times the bodies as well. Sebastian was in fact one of those demons. Once a contract was fulfilled the soul of the person in question along with their body would be given to the demon. In all normal circumstances the same would have been true with Ciel Phantomhive. His body hadn’t been badly mangled before his death, in the end it probably came out more unscathed than his spirit.
Sebastian had claimed he ‘only wanted his young master’, and yet as the cold lithe body laid there he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
It seemed even after death, Ciel Phantomhive was the only being able to bring out his own ‘human’ side.
--#
In the years following the death of Ciel, Sebastian went where the depravity went. That was, when he was on Earth and not in the Underworld.
He had been to every major city on the planet , with the exception of never returning to London except once*. While London and the surrounding English towns had been some of his favorites on the planet he no longer felt the need to be there. He had been there for the Great London Fire of 1666, but he couldn’t go back and walk the streets and look at the quaint shops without imagining the young Phantomhive by his side.
(*The only time in which he had returned back to England was right after the Blitz)
Currently he resided in New York city.
He spent a fair amount of time in Japan and China as well, going to large bustling cities. Large amounts of humans in small spaces meant a better chance for him to claim a meal. Unfortunately none were quite so interesting as one single dead British boy named after the heavens.
He preferred places such as New York or Tokyo where he could be as…unique as he wished without getting a single odd glance. A place where he could blend into the background, disappear in the steam coming from the sewers beneath.
However it would be far less difficult to ‘blend’ if he didn’t have a loud, longhaired, blood red bouncing ball of obnoxiously gay Death God following him around.
A Death God who would simultaneously tease him for acting ‘too human, or ‘getting soft in your old age’ and offer him sexual favors. Which was in fact just as annoying the first time as it was the eight thousandth.
Apparently it was quite difficult to shake off Grell Sutcliffe, even if you say…go to the Underworld only to reappear on Earth on the opposite side of the planet. Repeatedly.
Sebastian didn’t let Grell ‘hang around’ him because he liked the company, or missed his Bocchan so much that he’d put up with any reminder of their past. No. In fact he quite hated that about the Death God.
It was just that if he killed said obnoxious man he’d end up in trouble with the Death God higher ups. While it wouldn’t be troublesome to kill a few Death Gods (And some might even appreciate getting rid of Grell once and for all) he wouldn’t be able to take them all on. So, for now he put up with it, or more correctly practiced his ‘Ignoring all annoying and troublesome noises’ technique. This technique is equally useful just for living in New York city.
“Mou~ ….Sebas-chan~! Hey! Sebby~!... OI!”
“I should have never let you follow me to Tokyo.”
Well it worked sometimes.
--#
Getting his mother to let him go to London wasn’t very difficult, Ciel decided. In her current state, she could be guilted into just about anything. Besides not moving to the United States, of course. Ciel, however had a plan. He would get the information he was dying to know before they went or his name wasn’t Ciel La Mer. Though in his current situation that might not be the best phrase to use.
--#
His first stop was to a large public library to check their records, where the most helpful information would probably be located.
He found the situation was the same in the British Library along with the London Library and various others in the London area; while they did in have fact have extensive records and more books than anyone could possibly wish for…When it came to anything on the Phantomhives past and more importantly Ciel Phantomhive all the records were gone.
While this was obviously very troubling to Ciel to have the records missing, but even more troubling was in many books it looked as though pages had been violently removed. These certain pages should have contained information on Ciel Phantomhive exclusively. Ciel couldn’t find so much as an Obituary.
He also checked newspapers for any information, and there were of course many papers and articles that came out on the 1888 London Fire. However certain parts seemed mysteriously blacked out, some had burn marks in P list of the people who had perished in the fire. And like with the book records, some pages were missing altogether.
For the moment he’d have to deal with the small bit of information he had gleaned from the internet.
This, of course wouldn’t stop Ciel. The people who knew Ciel best knew, that even when the boy was little and cheerful, he had a mean stubborn streak. If they didn’t have the information he wanted in a library, he’d check every Antique store in London.
---------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------######## Till next time~
Author Note;I should have written more, but I decided to end the chapter here. Sorry. Alot more will be happening next chapter.
Explanations; 1: La Mer means Ocean in French. Ciel means Sky/Heavens. 2: When his OC mum says 'leanbh' it means child/baby in irish gaelic. 3. Uh..Okay there was no fire in 1888. There was one in 1666, that is probably what the author of Kuroshitsuji was going for.
Please review! I'm trying to keep everyone in character, and probably failing..but any reviews (including contsructive are very much welcome) with the exception of flames are welcome.
I don't usually like putting japanese into fanfiction if I can help it, but oh well. If people hate it I'm sorry.