After (yet again) another long hiatus, "His Butler; My Master" is finally back for more chapters!
My first shot at writing a Kuroshitsuji fanfiction. I do not own any of these characters, and they belong to their rightful owners.
This is just a fantasy outcome I wrote as a continuation of the series shortly after Season 1 completed, so I hope you enjoy it. As warning to younger audiences beneath 18, mature scenes to occur as story progresses.
In case you were wondering: Folie means Madness in French.
The door to the attic finally yielded to persistent force, as the reaper's shoulder rammed it one final time. The wooden frame shattered, as Grell finally burst into the screaming room, and beheld with wide emerald eyes the root of the chaos that was causing the manor to shriek and quake. The chamber danced; every piece of furniture rocked from side to side, wallpaper tore and curled, singed at the edges by some invisible flame, and various objects littered the floor like debris. The single small oval mirror had shattered; the face burst out from the center as if someone had punched it through the back frame, while the ceiling rained dust from long open cracks, like fresh wounds inflicted by some massive clawed animal, and at the epicenter of the madness, lying where Grell had last left him, was Ciel.
The boy's fingers were scrambling to find some firm purchase, the sheets beneath him torn to shreds, and the mattress bore deep wounds from wicked fingernails. The wall beside him was decorated with garish symbols of dried blood, which upon closer inspection, were all the same design; a star within a circle of thorns. The air was hot and dry, as if all of the moisture had been stolen from the room, but what occupied the small space the most was the screams. Like Hell's Choir, the piercing cries that spilled forth from the youth's lips pierced every wall, and seemed to echo, filling the space like a vocal tornado. Ciel's spine curled, lifting his torso up as high as he could go, the crown of his head pressing hard into the mattress until his spine snapped straight again, dropping him back down to rest firm on his back.
It didn't take much examination for Grell to know exactly what his servant was experiencing, and he approached with a mixture of awe, excitement, and strangely, concern. There was no blood coming from the boy, and yet the wailing that filled the room seemed more painful than any wound that could ever be inflicted. It was a symphony of insanity that somehow coaxed the sadistic reaper's eyes to develop tears, and cause his hand to shake slightly as he reached out one daring hand to touch the poor victim.
Ciel's spine curled again, his fingers clawing at the air, stretched out on each side as if his wrists were fastened to the bed. Another scream tore from his throat, as Grell's fingers lingered only inches from the tormented boy's shoulders, and suddenly, Ciel fell still, dropping back onto the bed stiff as a board. The reaper's eyebrows pinched in confusion, before he finally touched the human lad's collarbone. The skin was boiling hot and clammy, pale as bone china despite the feverish condition. He lay like a corpse, eye closed and chest barely rising with each slow, shallow breath. What's more, the chaos of the room had instantly shut down, leaving only a blanket of silence and eerie stillness.
The scarlet reaper's eyes scanned Ciel's form, taking it all in like a museum exhibit. Despite the situation, the reaper did not take joy from the display; in fact, he examined it as if it was a rare disease. He had only heard of possessions; and any reaper knew the damage that was inflicted upon the soul as a result. Whereas Grell drank in the beauty of the mutilation of the body, damage to the immortal soul was enough to make even the passionate reaper shudder. It was like the raping of one's existence; to have another entity tear into the fabric of your being and shred it apart, wrestle it into submission, and claw throughout your core. There was no escape, no pacifier, that could quell the pain of a demon's possession.
Then, Grell's lips curved into a small smirk, "Hehe... looks like you haven't quite lost interest in him after all, have you, Sebaschan?"
Suddenly, Ciel's eye opened. It was slow, his eyelid like a curtain rising over a stage, and as Grell caught sight of the small action, his own eyes widened with surprise, as a single scarlet orb flicked over to him, and locked directly onto his sight. It was wide, and seemed to bore into his soul.
"Good morning," Grell smiled awkwardly, a little nervous, as that single garnet stared up at him. The reaper felt compelled to step away, as a strange feeling began to creep over his skin, an itch that caused the reaper's flesh to tense unconsciously, but Grell was entranced, like a moth to a flame, a flame that danced within that eye, and seemed to catch the reaper's very core on fire. The boy did not respond to the reaper's salutations, but slowly, he began to rise up, keeping his sight locked directly on the red head's face, unbroken.
The feeling of danger was beginning to scratch at the back of Grell's neck, like a finger dragging a nail from the base of the scalp and down the spine. As the boy sat up completely, he seemed to slump forward, almost as if he didn't have a complete grip on his own body mechanics.
"Sebastian? Is that you in there?" Grell ignored his better instincts and took a step forward to grab Ciel's shoulder and turn him to face him. The red eye had looked down at the floor, as if staring into space. His mistress shook him twice, "You're being very naughty, barging in like that! He's my property now, you know? Tough cookies if you think for one second you're going to eat his-"
A sudden burst of laughter stopped Grell's words cold, as the reaper looked down at the boy who was now shaking with mad giggles. The eye had returned to look at him, wide, laughing maniacally along with the voice. Grell's brow furrowed, when suddenly, he felt a powerful shove against his chest that sent him falling back onto the ground and against the dresser. Shocked, the reaper lifted himself off the floor to see his butler standing before him, his body shivering all over, rigid in motion, but still giggling sinisterly.
"When Will finds out what you did, you're going to regret it, Sebastian," Grell stood up at full height. The possessed boy's laugh only intensified, shivering all over and joints twitching occasionally, "You think yourself so clever? Making us believe you've lost interest in the boy only to sneak into my house and try to eat him from the inside out? Well, you have another thing coming... just you wait..."
"Wait for what, you disgusting wretch?" Ciel's voice was sinister, "Are you going to cut me down again? Watch me bleed for you? I know how much you like red..."
Suddenly, there was a flash, and Ciel launched himself forward, bringing his hand down in an arch. Grell gasped as he saw a quick white glint, a ribbon of scarlet, succeeded by a white hot pain. He looked, shocked, at the boy who stood before him, clutching a shard of glass that was kissed with blood. The reaper reached up to his face, and pulled his hand away; the tips of his fingers were painted with a deep garnet liquid.
"You little bastard! You cut my face!" Grell screeched angrily, and prepared himself to launch at the boy, but Ciel laughed again and ran forward, plowing himself into the reaper and pinning him up against a wall. Grell caught the arm that was trying desperately to stab him with the shard, but his eyes widened with surprise as the usually weak lad was somehow slowly overpowering him. Was it Sebastian's power that allowed the weakling to gain such strength and agility? There was no way it had been there before... perhaps that was why his instincts were blaring that the possessed boy was a force to be reckoned with; with demons being the only enemy to a reaper's purpose, it made sense that he would be on high alert. Usually, Grell delighted in the rush of adrenaline that came with being locked in battle with a devil, but there was something different this time. With his direct orders being that no harm should come to the boy while he was a hostage, and this obvious renewed interest in him from the demon, Grell was presented with a conundrum. If he killed the boy, it could mean his license again, if not worse. However, Ciel was quickly, surprisingly, becoming a critical threat.
Grell twisted just enough to throw Ciel off balance, and whipped around, sending the boy stumbling backwards. However, there was another hot sting, as the shard somehow became lodged in his shoulder. Hissing angrily, the reaper reached over to pull it out, and looked over at the boy, who was laughing from where he stood, his posture rigid,
"I wonder... How do you kill a reaper?" Ciel's voice was chilling, as he mused, "I know that forks can tear your flesh... if I cut you up to bits, will you die, or will you still live as a pile of quivering cubes of meat? Let's experiment, shall we?"
The room suddenly shuddered again, and Grell narrowed his eyes, his razor sharp grin blooming upon his face, "Oh Ciel, a boy after my own heart... if you'd like to play with mommy, let's play."
The reaper went for the door, and ripped it open. Orders or not, he was not about to let the little insolent brat carve him up like a roast. In the attic, there were no suitable weapons, other than the bloody shard, but even that had somehow fallen under the demonic powers manifesting within the possessed youth's aura. Grell stopped dead in his tracks, however, as the floor suddenly gave out in front of him. The house began to tremble again, and the reaper looked around himself as he saw wicked cracks spread over his walls and ceiling. Turning around, he saw the corridor leading up to the attic's stairway. The walls had somehow become scorched black, and the cracks were like tendrils branching out from the darkness, like some insidious disease. The house began to smell like smoke and blood, and Grell's eyes widened as he saw a pale white hand emerge from the darkness behind the wall. He turned and backed up, before jumping across the expanse. The floor gave way again as soon as the reaper's heel found purchase, sending the red head plummeting to the ground floor flat on his back. He groaned upon landing, touching his back as it pulsed red with ache. He rolled onto his hands and knees, and staggered up to his feet, hand on the small of his back as he tried to pop his spine back into alignment.
Then, he heard something that made his blood freeze in his veins. It was a familiar voice, one that he usually beheld with reverence and endearment, like a good friend that filled his life with purpose and pleasure, that took his hand in warm embrace and purred happily. Now, it was a roar that filled the house with echos of hunger, and caused a stone to drop into the reaper's stomach. It roared again, and the house trembled with fear; a metallic scream that made Grell take a step back and shake his head with a thought, 'No way... It's not possible...'
His thoughts were answered with the sounds of footsteps, and the emergence of the familiar, wicked razor edged grin, clutched in the grip of the crimson eyed entity, who stepped out from behind the wall. Ciel's head turned, almost mechanically, to look at the reaper, his eye widening upon finding his prey, and his lips curling into an insane smile that seemed to match the dead chainsaw that hung from his hand.
"Hehe... look at what I found..." Before Grell could make a dash forward to take back his friend from the possessed Ciel's hands, the chainsaw roared to life, as the delicate white hand tore the starter chord upwards. The roar of the metal caused the reaper to freeze in his tracks and whirl about face, and run the opposite direction. As Sebastian had said, only a reaper's weapon could destroy a reaper itself, and Ciel had found the only death scythe in the house. At that moment, Grell cursed himself for ever thinking it would look good over the fireplace mantle in the reception.
Deciding that trying to avoid the scythe within the house was a terribly silly thing to do, Grell made a bolt for the garden door, but the house shook again, and deposited a cascade of debris to fall in front of the door, effectively blocking the reaper's path. Turning around quickly to backtrack, he suddenly felt the air slice beside him, as the whirling teeth of the chainsaw carved the space only inches from his turning shoulder. The red eye glinted with a sadistic light, as Ciel whirled around in pursuit and pulled his weapon back to throw towards the reaper's retreating back.
Grell narrowly avoided the second attack, as he ducked down just in time behind a cabinet, a hail of wood chips taking the place of blood splatter. He scrambled around the dining table, picking up chairs and flinging them aside to impede the rampage, but the chainsaw ate through every obstacle with reckless abandon. Even as Grell grabbed ahold of another chair and was able to hurl it directly at his pursuer, Ciel brought the scythe down upon it, cutting it in half before it even made contact with his body.
"Oh come on!" Grell cried out, angry. It was all fun and games when he held all of the cards in his hands, namely the one that was able to reduce the other cards to itty bitty pieces, but this was not fun anymore. If he took a gamble and tried to throw himself at the boy to wrestle the chainsaw out of his hands, it could all be over with one wrong move. What's more, his scythe did not run on fuel. Ciel would be able to go on for ages, chasing him around until either he finally reduced him to minced meat or passed out from exhaustion.
Grell gritted his teeth, preparing himself for his escape plan, and overturned the table, throwing it at the boy. The temporary barrier between the chainsaw and himself was enough to allow the reaper to burst out from the dining room and into the kitchens. He looked around for a weapon, and found the knife block. The pairing knife and cleaver rested in place; neither very affective in any sort of combat. He realized that the carving knife was missing, and cursed angrily. Remembering that it was in the lounge, he made due with taking out the cleaver, and turned around just in time to have a shower of sparks rain down upon him. Metal upon metal screeched as the chainsaw gnawed at the poor cleaver clutched in Grell's hand, and the reaper looked beyond his arm at the insane red eye and warped smile, which seemed already filled with malicious victory.
"Time for mistress's just desserts, don't you think?" Ciel pushed down on the chainsaw, Grell's arm quivering under the applied weight and bringing the roaring metal an inch closer to the reaper's face. Grell could feel the whirr of his scythe's teeth nip at his bangs, and he gritted his teeth before lifting one foot up and kicking Ciel square in the stomach. The boy staggered back only slightly, though it gave Grell enough time to slip out of the weapon's reach and bolt for the door again. The reaper slammed through the swinging door into the corridor, and he looked back and forth, looking for an exit. He took a left and ran toward the foyer, only to have a have a roar of metal swing at him horizontally from the intersecting corridor. Grell ducked down just in time to avoid it, shaving off the tip of his bangs. Ciel whipped the saw around again, this time in a vertical arch, and nearly sliced into his victim through his side, but Grell narrowly escaped rolling to the side and scrambling up to his feet again. Ciel staggered after him mechanically, laughing wildly in his mad pursuit.
"I thought you wanted to give me your heart, Grell," the reaper ran up the stairs, as the boy's mocking rumbled throughout the house, "why don't you let me have my present now?"
The reaper rounded a corner and tried to formulate a plan. He saw the broken floorboards, and waited a moment until he heard the sound of the chainsaw grow close. As soon as Ciel was on the landing and just about to turn the corner to see his prey, Grell jumped down through the floorboards. He crept quietly towards the foyer, where he saw the front door looming beyond the debris. Finally, he made a break for it, only to find out that the door knob had been sliced clean off, along with the lock knob, effectively locking him in. He would have pounded at the door, only he could hear the returning roar of the chainsaw from the second floor landing, and had to think quickly. He dove into the room beside the door; the dark room where the crematorium resided beside the boiler. Yanking the small iron door open, he slid into the chamber quickly, being quiet to shut it behind him. In the blackness, Grell crouched low, and silenced his breathing altogether. He waited in the dark, listening. The crematorium had to be lit from the inside after being stocked with wood, and If Ciel were to look inside the chamber and try to come in for him, he would have to crawl inside and leave the chainsaw. If he tried to stick the chainsaw in first to wave about and slice at Grell, all he would have to do is catch the wrist and yank the scythe free. He pressed himself back against the side of the hole, trying his best to flatten himself against it, despite his crouching position.
He listened intently for the sound of the saw, but it seemed to be gone altogether. Grell's eyebrows narrowed, and his shoulders tensed further, as he strained to hear any evidence of the boy's whereabouts.
There was a strange smell that seemed to creep up from within the chamber; it was not the scent of death or decay, but smoke. He covered his nose, and looked around. He had ceased to breathe, but he could feel the smoke fill the chamber quickly, and along with it, came a building heat. It pulsed, like the beating of a heart, rising in temperature until Grell could feel his body begin to perspire. He wiped his brow, and looked all over the chamber. There was no fire, but the heat was growing to unbearable temperatures, and he was beginning to panic. Ciel had obviously discovered he was in the crematorium and was trying to smoke him out so that he could behead him like Marie Antoinette as soon as he emerged from the little iron door.
The heat escalated to the point that Grell could smell his own hair sizzling. His skin was beginning to sting, his eyesight seeing red with every new wave of pain from the heating room. The reaper lightly hit his head against the wall, as if trying to drum out a plan, and coming only to two words, 'I'm doomed.'
He sat back into the ash, and tried to hold back frustrated tears. He slumped, his hands falling to his sides, before he felt something sharp touch the top of his hand. He looked down and picked up the item in the dark, and though he couldn't see it, he explored it with his fingers. The bone was splintered in several places, forming a few razor sharp points. Finally, Grell lifted his head with determined eyes. If he was going to die, it wasn't by some snobby little brat, and certainly not by his own scythe. He gripped the bone tightly with one hand.
'No more miss nice girl,' Grell thought, affirming his decision, and he braced himself over the exit, before finally crawling out. He looked around cautiously. The boy was nowhere to be seen, the corridor beyond the dark room dead silent. Not letting his guard down for a minute, an ash coated reaper slunk out from the crematorium, before crawling along the floor and looking around the corner, clutching the bone with one hand as a dagger. He looked around cautiously, and slipped out into the foyer, body poised like a cat ready to strike. Suddenly, he turned towards the door, as the roar of metal sprung to life again. The laugh of the boy and the chainsaw twisted together in a double helix of madness, as Ciel began walking towards him, staggering like a drunk man and carrying the scythe poised to strike.
It was with this that Grell shot forward with one last Hail Mary, and ducked beneath the chainsaw, plunging the bone through Ciel's side. The boy suddenly froze with shock, the saw still eating up the air above the reaper's head. He looked down at the protrusion that began to ooze blood like a loosened stopper to a wine bottle, and then looked at the reaper's twin emerald eyes, which were one again laughing with a victorious, delighted air, before his eye narrowed into a deadly red slant, and he brought the chainsaw sideways and hit the side of Grell's head with the body of it at full force, sending the reaper careening into the opposite wall. The red head collided with it, and tried to get to his feet again, before Ciel stood over him, still pierced by the shank of bone and bleeding all over the floor. The youth seemed utterly unfazed by the wound, but instead of screaming in pain, he rose his weapon in rage. His smile returned, and the sadistic, madness infused laugh spilled from his lips as he held the scythe aloft, ready to bring down upon his victim and tormentor.
Suddenly, the boy's body crumpled to the floor, the live chainsaw skittering across the floor, narrowly missing Grell's body. The reaper jumped with a shocked yip, trying to escape it quickly, before looking up at what exactly saved his life. His eyes widened in surprise as he saw a familiar face, reclining against his own death scythe that was parked up against his hip and shaking his hand that had just rendered the human boy unconscious once again.
The two toned reaper finished flexing his hand, before offering up a little smirk, "Qui, mon ami. What would you do without me?"
He offered his hand to help his senior associate up, which Grell delightedly took, as if he was his knight in shining armor. Ronald ended the illusion rather quickly, looking down at the boy who lay bleeding on the ground, "Well, so much for that... William's going to kill you."
"He was trying to kill me!" Grell barked, before kicking the fallen boy in the kneecap, hard, "Little bastard."
"He is possessed by a demon, ," another voice came from the ruins of the doorway, which had been reduced to bark chips by Ronald Knox's versatile lawnmower. William T. Spears stepped out of the debris, and looked down at the fallen youth, rolling him onto his back to fully examine the damage. Looking down at the sliver of bone, he clicked his tongue and shook his head, before glancing over his shoulder at his incompetent coworker who stood in the foyer dressed in a ripped up night gown and coated in ash.
"Will, it wasn't my fault he turned into a maniac and chased me around my own house," he crossed his arms, pouting, "he could have killed me... that's enough to file for workman's compensation."
"Well, if you hadn't used your death scythe as decoration, then you might have had a claim," William said rather bluntly, fixing his glasses as he took out a pen and notebook from his jacket pocket. He scratched down several notes, examining several aspects about the fallen boy's condition. Grell caught sight of "Injury induced by associate Grell Sutcliff, right side of torso, non-fatal, yet person in question in critical condition due to negligence. Investigate further and file report of possible disciplinary action."
Grell groaned with protest, before Ronald interjected, "If you had taken the class on how to deal with special cases of possessions, you might have figured out how to properly handle this situation..."
"Stop calling me incompetent, Ronald!" Grell stomped his foot, "How am I supposed to handle this? First, the kid starts destroying my house, and then he wakes up laughing his head off, then he cuts my beautiful face, and then chases me all over the place with my own scythe! I had to hide in the crematorium, god damn it."
Ronald waved his hand over his nose, "I noticed... you smell like burnt hair."
The scarlet reaper balled up his fists, opening his mouth to retort, when William spoke again, "Well, first of all, we will have to dress the wound so that he doesn't die. Then, we will have to put him somewhere so that he can rest. Until Sebastian re-emerges from Ciel Phantomhive's soul, we must not disturb him further. You say that he woke up mad, ?"
Grell nodded with affirmation, and looked down at the boy accusingly, "Mmhm... he woke up utterly round the bend... started laughing like a maniac, and he was quite quick and strong, despite being one of the weakest little runts in the world..."
"I wonder," William tapped his mouth in thought, considering the information, "if this hasn't gone completely wrong. When a demon possesses a soul, he will try to fuse the soul with himself until he not only owns the skin that housed it, but the very essence of the victim itself. If Ciel Phantomhive was successfully possessed by Sebastian Michaelis, I doubt he would have shown such sloppy decorum. If that demon wanted to kill you, he would have had no trouble."
"But he had red eyes when he woke up," Grell interjected, which piqued his superior's interest and caused him to turn around
"Is that so?" He looked perplexed, and turned his attention back to the boy. Reaching one hand out to touch Ciel's eyelid, he pried it open just a tad. Instead of a blazing scarlet, a crystal blue eye was rolled back into the youth's head.
Ronald took a quick glance as well, before looking back at his filthy and albeit disgruntled coworker, as he tried to dust off his beloved ruined nightgown in vain, "Well, either you were seeing things, or his eye magically turned back to blue again."
"What?" Grell quickly moved around the pair, dropped to his hands and knees, and opened Ciel's eye again, examining it for himself and seeing the blue rim beneath the cage of black eyelashes. His expression was not only one of frustration, but also disappointment, as he sat back on his calves and pouted at the loss of that brilliant scarlet jewel that had looked utterly beautiful in that twisted face. After the ordeal, Grell began to feel the euphoric rush of it all, the beautiful chase throughout the house, the shattering of the manor around them like a passionate ballet... it dawned upon Grell that it was quite possibly one of the most romantic experiences he had ever had in his life, and he touched the side of the dangerous boy's face with an expression of tender nostalgia.
"Well, what does it mean then?" Ronald asked as he looked at his seniors for their analysis.
William stood up, and pushed his glasses up to sit properly on his nose, "It may be one of two things... one, Sebastian Michaelis has failed to properly fuse himself with Ciel Phantomhive's soul, or two, his soul is trying to absorb the intruding demon's essence to become a demon himself. I believe the second is most likely. Possessions are horribly dangerous for both the victim and the participating demon. The soul is sought out for a reason, and like a body to an invading disease, it will try to absorb the attacker and convert it into something beneficial. I suppose that is what Ciel Phantomhive is unconsciously attempting in retaliation. As Sebastian spends more time inside the soul, he will grow weaker as the soul begins to absorb his essence, which would explain the sudden demonic energy that radiated from the boy and caused him to go on his mad spree. Of course, if Sebastian's soul is absorbed, it will be less than ideal. If we lose him, then all of our resources and work hours will be severely wasted. As much as I want to punish him for this violation of our agreement, there is nothing we can do until he removes himself from Ciel's soul. Until then, we will simply have to watch over Mr. Phantomhive until this condition concludes itself."
"This all could have been avoided if somebody had been watching Sebastian more carefully," Grell glared at Ronald, as the blonde reaper raised his hands up in his defense, "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Speak for yourself, senior. I have been stuck watching that demon for the past six years! Given our history, it has been one hell of a shit job. Do you know how difficult that is, let alone creepy? Every night I think he's going to assassinate me... Hell, I haven't had a decent night's sleep since this assignment began. I keep sleeping with my death scythe, and that is not comfortable! Also, I haven't even enjoyed a single night drinking with friends or meeting fine Parisian ladies... this is a trip wrongfully wasted, I tell you."
"This is not a vacation, , this is an assignment; one that you seem to have been neglecting as of late. Ever since your recent transfer to the Parisian Division, you have been slipping up too much for comfort. I have had multiple reports that Sebastian Michaelis had left the compound and was seen wandering free in the city, along with the witness report by Ciel Phantomhive himself regarding the Dahlia Sutcliff incident. That is probably the reason that fell into this dismal state. The plan was that the demon was not supposed to locate him, let alone torment him while he is in our custody. This is a mistake that will be examined when it comes to your annual review."
Ronald opened his mouth to defend himself, but groaned in defeat, as Grell smirked at him with an expression that read 'serves you right',
"And you, ," William turned, which stripped the scarlet reaper of his smile, "Not only did you go against your instruction and harm the boy, but you let this all go way out of hand. Perhaps I made a poor judgment giving this assignment to you. This will also go to your probation hearing."
Grell's expression was a doppleganger of Ronald's, before he hung his head and nodded, "Understood, Will..."
The bureaucratic reaper nodded and tucked away his notebook and pen, before instructing his associates to take the boy into the kitchen for some amateur treatment. As Grell took the upper half and Ronald took the legs, Ciel's body hung limp as a rag doll, his head lolling lazily from side to side, his stillness masking the madness that continued to rampage throughout his entire soul.
Chapter 35 everyone~! Two chapters? Oh my goodness! It's like the old days!
Anyways, this one has been a lot of fun to write... and finally, Ciel gets a little revenge for all the shit that Grell has put him through. About time, right?
Also, you may have noticed that TADA! Ronald Knox makes an appearance here!
Now, this one was the only major change that I made to the story. During the first year I wrote this, I don't believe had been written in the manga yet. Either way, I decided that his personality would probably work in the place of my original character, Albel von Rhys, who was originally going to be the reaper in charge of watching Sebastian. Since he is one of my friend's favorite characters, and I spend a lot of time RPing with him, I decided he needed a cameo in "His Butler, My Master".
I'm sorry if he wasn't written very well though... I never had a hand in writing for Ronnie myself... so it's all new to me. Still, I thought it would be fun to add him.
Anyways! The songs that I listened to while writing this one were pretty random, but they fit the mood for when I conjured up this chapter: "Bad Romance" by Lady Gaga, "Bloody Mary" by Lady Gaga, "Bird from a Worm" by The Used, and "Hizamazuite ashi wo Oname" from the Princess Resurrection OST. ^_^ Anyways, stay tuned for more chapters!
Thank you for your wonderful reception and great support!