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TheRoguePrince
Dust
- Joined
- Mar 7, 2019
Demons from the past... (A Black Butler AU RP):
My mother always used to tell me that when our family lived in England, we were nobility. Not like, a king or a Duke or anything super impressive, but definitely nobility. We had an Earl in our family, or a Baron or something. And then she would show me the rings.
They were very pretty rings; one was wrought in gold with a crest on it. Mother said it was something called a signet ring and used to stamp wax seals, acting like a signature when a letter was sealed. Plus, you'd know who sent it just by looking at the wax.
The other was beautiful, and probably worth a lot of money. Made of silver that never seemed to tarnish, it housed an emerald-cut sapphire of the deepest blue I'd ever seen. Sometimes she would let me try them on and I would go around calling myself 'M'lord' and bowing to my mother, asking if she'd 'care to daaaahnce'. Oh, and I'd use the worst English accent I could... because our family was English, you see.
Well, it made sense in my head!
I'd tried to trace our family tree, but I was never able to find much information on them. Mum said it's because we changed our name when we came to emigrated and all the old records with the old name had been destroyed. Now we were known as the Fantom's. And we weren't nobility anymore. I went to a public high school, for God's sake.
In fact, in anything, my life was painfully normal. School, homework. More school. More homework. Bullies. Chess club. Bullies. The normal, you know? Having an ancestor that was an Earl certainly wasn't helping me survive tenth grade.
Every day was like the one before (but I wasn't in a poor, provincial town).
Until one day, it wasn't...
I had just got off the bus and was on my way down my driveway when the front door flew open and my mother, looking as though the devil was on her tail, came flying out to meet me. She pressed a velvet box in my hand; the box that the rings were kept in, and told me to run.
"Mum! What's going on!? What's happ--"
"Run!" She practically screamed at me, pushing me back down the driveway just as two other men emerged from the house. I couldn't see their faces, but they had guns.
Guns!? They had guns!
"GO!" She screamed again and I didn't know what to do. I took off running, but I was no track star. I pumped my legs as hard as I could but as two shots split the air behind me. My mother screamed again, and then fell silent. I stumbled and fell shoulder-first in shock. Hitting the ground hard, I had the breath knocked out of me, but I didn't have time to try and recover. I had to scramble to my feet again *keep* running, I had to keep running because I heard the clatter of feet behind me, of people shouting, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. Probably telling me to stop, but I couldn't stop. They *shot* my mother!
What the *actual* **fuck** was going on!?
Still running as fast as I could, I jumped a fence, ducked into an empty backyard and pressed myself back under a large flowering bush. I kept raking my hands through my thick, black hair, rocking back and forth and trying my best not to hyperventilate.
"Help! Oh, someone ... anyone! I need someone's help, please!"
I could hear the two voices; they sounded like they were still in the street, but getting closer with every second. If they each picked a side, and flanked around the house, I'd be fucked. There'd be no one for me to run.
My breathing was faster now, I was wheezing I was breathing so hard. "Please, please, please, I need help. I don't care who, please, just help me!" I could hear the desperation in my voice voice, thick with tears that I was trying to hold back...
And then... then the air becomes strangely quiet. I can hear the voices of the two men, but they sound far away, like they're talking through water. When I look through the branches of the bush, it's as though the sky has gone dark, shadowy, like dusk. But it's barely four PM.
Cutting through the quiet is the click of heels on the concrete patio stones. I can't see a face, only two legs that seem to stretch up forever
"You have summoned me here. I heard the desperation," a voice from above me speaks smoothly and cooly. He speaks as though he finds my terror delicious, "and it drew me to you. That can never be changed."
I press a hand against my chest in an effort to calm the galloping of my heart, but my heart just races faster. I'm cold; it's like the temperature has dropped by at least ten degrees. "Who are you!?"
"I'm the one who will help you. But know that what is sacrificed can never be regained." That sibilant voice pauses. There's a note of predatory anticipation in his words. Like a carrion bird waiting to feast on the dead.
What is going on!? Am I in a dream? Or, maybe, a nightmare? I can't tell. But there's a man... or something... standing there, wanting to help me!
"Choose!" The voice hisses impatiently.
The sounds of the two men are growing closer. They sound much nearer than they were even a few seconds ago. "I-I... "
Choose!"*
"...Help me, please! I choose to accept your help!" I don't know who this man is. I don't know why he's here, but he IS here. I need him.
I hear him chuckle as though something amuses him and a white hand appears in the bush, outstretched as though he's waiting for me to take it. I lean forward to extend my hand but those long, slender fingers curl around my neck instead.
And then: pain. Searing hot and searing cold at the same time. I try to scream but I can't make the noise and then, as soon as it happens, it's over. I fall back, gasping, tears welling and then dripping down my face.
"What do you require me to do? What do you... command?" The voice is back to being chilly and formal, almost blasé except for an undercurrent of anticipation.
"Command? I command you to kill those men! The two of them; kill them!"* I manage to choke the words out as my shaking hands touch the spot just above the hollow of my throat, where the pain seemed to absolutely infuse my flesh.
"As you wish..."
Just like that, it was as though light and color and *sound* flooded back into the world. The voices of the two men were close; they were nearly in the back yard now. I had no idea what was going to happen so I pressed myself back against the wall, drawing my knees to my chest and covering my ears. Even so, I couldn't drown out the the wailing shrieks of the two men, followed by two boneless thumps on the ground.
Still thinking this was a nightmare, I slowly pulled myself out of the bush to see who *exactly* my mysterious saviour was....
[So, I wrote this as a prompt that was inspired by Black Butler. Think of this as an modern AU thing with an original character who is a descendant of the Phantomhive family.
How?
Don't think too hard about it. It's an Alternate Universe
So my character is now on the run and needs protection. On the run from who, you ask? Haven't decided that yet. Maybe they're... oh, I don't know... cultists? They need a descendant of Phantomhive blood to take back to England for nefarious purposes? Regardless, they killed my character's mother (father died a long time ago. Suspicious, you ask? Oh, quite possibly. Those cultists playin' the *long* con!) and now my character seeks both vengeance and answers.
Oh, and I'm not married to the cultist thing. If you have any ideas, definitely let me know!
Anyway, my character is quite in over his head and needs help. That's where the demon comes in. You. You're the demon. If you *want* to be Sebastian, awesome! If not, and you have an original demon, also awesome! Look however you like, not picky there.
I'm looking for story with this RP, not just smut. Though smut will definitely be a thing if we want it to! I'd also like your demon to be the slightly more aggressive and dominant of the two, though he still can't disobey a direct order, he finds loopholes and ways to skirt around things that *aren't* commands.
Whew ... what else. I should probably stop writing before I too much, but I think that ship may have sailed.
Kinks: Cuddling, romance, discipline, being talked down to, teased, sarcasm, intrigue, story, angst, danger, kidnapping, chloroform, etc. Things like that. I'd like a more story driven RP, but like I said, smut is not off-limits!
Limits: feet, unrealistic sizes, extreme gore (a moderate amount is fine!), scat, things like that.]
My mother always used to tell me that when our family lived in England, we were nobility. Not like, a king or a Duke or anything super impressive, but definitely nobility. We had an Earl in our family, or a Baron or something. And then she would show me the rings.
They were very pretty rings; one was wrought in gold with a crest on it. Mother said it was something called a signet ring and used to stamp wax seals, acting like a signature when a letter was sealed. Plus, you'd know who sent it just by looking at the wax.
The other was beautiful, and probably worth a lot of money. Made of silver that never seemed to tarnish, it housed an emerald-cut sapphire of the deepest blue I'd ever seen. Sometimes she would let me try them on and I would go around calling myself 'M'lord' and bowing to my mother, asking if she'd 'care to daaaahnce'. Oh, and I'd use the worst English accent I could... because our family was English, you see.
Well, it made sense in my head!
I'd tried to trace our family tree, but I was never able to find much information on them. Mum said it's because we changed our name when we came to emigrated and all the old records with the old name had been destroyed. Now we were known as the Fantom's. And we weren't nobility anymore. I went to a public high school, for God's sake.
In fact, in anything, my life was painfully normal. School, homework. More school. More homework. Bullies. Chess club. Bullies. The normal, you know? Having an ancestor that was an Earl certainly wasn't helping me survive tenth grade.
Every day was like the one before (but I wasn't in a poor, provincial town).
Until one day, it wasn't...
I had just got off the bus and was on my way down my driveway when the front door flew open and my mother, looking as though the devil was on her tail, came flying out to meet me. She pressed a velvet box in my hand; the box that the rings were kept in, and told me to run.
"Mum! What's going on!? What's happ--"
"Run!" She practically screamed at me, pushing me back down the driveway just as two other men emerged from the house. I couldn't see their faces, but they had guns.
Guns!? They had guns!
"GO!" She screamed again and I didn't know what to do. I took off running, but I was no track star. I pumped my legs as hard as I could but as two shots split the air behind me. My mother screamed again, and then fell silent. I stumbled and fell shoulder-first in shock. Hitting the ground hard, I had the breath knocked out of me, but I didn't have time to try and recover. I had to scramble to my feet again *keep* running, I had to keep running because I heard the clatter of feet behind me, of people shouting, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. Probably telling me to stop, but I couldn't stop. They *shot* my mother!
What the *actual* **fuck** was going on!?
Still running as fast as I could, I jumped a fence, ducked into an empty backyard and pressed myself back under a large flowering bush. I kept raking my hands through my thick, black hair, rocking back and forth and trying my best not to hyperventilate.
"Help! Oh, someone ... anyone! I need someone's help, please!"
I could hear the two voices; they sounded like they were still in the street, but getting closer with every second. If they each picked a side, and flanked around the house, I'd be fucked. There'd be no one for me to run.
My breathing was faster now, I was wheezing I was breathing so hard. "Please, please, please, I need help. I don't care who, please, just help me!" I could hear the desperation in my voice voice, thick with tears that I was trying to hold back...
And then... then the air becomes strangely quiet. I can hear the voices of the two men, but they sound far away, like they're talking through water. When I look through the branches of the bush, it's as though the sky has gone dark, shadowy, like dusk. But it's barely four PM.
Cutting through the quiet is the click of heels on the concrete patio stones. I can't see a face, only two legs that seem to stretch up forever
"You have summoned me here. I heard the desperation," a voice from above me speaks smoothly and cooly. He speaks as though he finds my terror delicious, "and it drew me to you. That can never be changed."
I press a hand against my chest in an effort to calm the galloping of my heart, but my heart just races faster. I'm cold; it's like the temperature has dropped by at least ten degrees. "Who are you!?"
"I'm the one who will help you. But know that what is sacrificed can never be regained." That sibilant voice pauses. There's a note of predatory anticipation in his words. Like a carrion bird waiting to feast on the dead.
What is going on!? Am I in a dream? Or, maybe, a nightmare? I can't tell. But there's a man... or something... standing there, wanting to help me!
"Choose!" The voice hisses impatiently.
The sounds of the two men are growing closer. They sound much nearer than they were even a few seconds ago. "I-I... "
Choose!"*
"...Help me, please! I choose to accept your help!" I don't know who this man is. I don't know why he's here, but he IS here. I need him.
I hear him chuckle as though something amuses him and a white hand appears in the bush, outstretched as though he's waiting for me to take it. I lean forward to extend my hand but those long, slender fingers curl around my neck instead.
And then: pain. Searing hot and searing cold at the same time. I try to scream but I can't make the noise and then, as soon as it happens, it's over. I fall back, gasping, tears welling and then dripping down my face.
"What do you require me to do? What do you... command?" The voice is back to being chilly and formal, almost blasé except for an undercurrent of anticipation.
"Command? I command you to kill those men! The two of them; kill them!"* I manage to choke the words out as my shaking hands touch the spot just above the hollow of my throat, where the pain seemed to absolutely infuse my flesh.
"As you wish..."
Just like that, it was as though light and color and *sound* flooded back into the world. The voices of the two men were close; they were nearly in the back yard now. I had no idea what was going to happen so I pressed myself back against the wall, drawing my knees to my chest and covering my ears. Even so, I couldn't drown out the the wailing shrieks of the two men, followed by two boneless thumps on the ground.
Still thinking this was a nightmare, I slowly pulled myself out of the bush to see who *exactly* my mysterious saviour was....
[So, I wrote this as a prompt that was inspired by Black Butler. Think of this as an modern AU thing with an original character who is a descendant of the Phantomhive family.
How?
Don't think too hard about it. It's an Alternate Universe
So my character is now on the run and needs protection. On the run from who, you ask? Haven't decided that yet. Maybe they're... oh, I don't know... cultists? They need a descendant of Phantomhive blood to take back to England for nefarious purposes? Regardless, they killed my character's mother (father died a long time ago. Suspicious, you ask? Oh, quite possibly. Those cultists playin' the *long* con!) and now my character seeks both vengeance and answers.
Oh, and I'm not married to the cultist thing. If you have any ideas, definitely let me know!
Anyway, my character is quite in over his head and needs help. That's where the demon comes in. You. You're the demon. If you *want* to be Sebastian, awesome! If not, and you have an original demon, also awesome! Look however you like, not picky there.
I'm looking for story with this RP, not just smut. Though smut will definitely be a thing if we want it to! I'd also like your demon to be the slightly more aggressive and dominant of the two, though he still can't disobey a direct order, he finds loopholes and ways to skirt around things that *aren't* commands.
Whew ... what else. I should probably stop writing before I too much, but I think that ship may have sailed.
Kinks: Cuddling, romance, discipline, being talked down to, teased, sarcasm, intrigue, story, angst, danger, kidnapping, chloroform, etc. Things like that. I'd like a more story driven RP, but like I said, smut is not off-limits!
Limits: feet, unrealistic sizes, extreme gore (a moderate amount is fine!), scat, things like that.]