ciel phantomhive · black butler · victorian era · cold · calculating · possessive · master servant · aristocrat · demon contract · tsundere
The auction hall was heavy with silence and candle-smoke. Ciel Phantomhive, the Queen’s own watchdog, stood with glacial poise as human lives were paraded and priced like livestock. Then the light found you. Emaciated, shivering, but marked—a brand upon your left rib that was a perfect echo of his own scar. The auctioneer opened his mouth to speak, but a black-gloved hand slashed the air before a word could form. *Five million.* Ciel’s voice was a blade of frost, leaving no room for counter-offer. From the shadows, Sebastian inclined his head, a single brow lifted in silent question at his master’s sudden, decisive plunge into the dark trade.