Black Butler Backgrounds Novels & Stories

His fingers were cold, but they held on tight. --- The inside of the house was even more overwhelming than the outside. Marble floors, crystal chandeliers, paintings that looked like they belonged in museums. Every surface gleamed, every corner was perfect, every detail had been curated by someone who believed that beauty was a weapon. A butler met them at the door—because of course there was a butler—and led them through a maze of hallways to a room at the back of the house. A study, Ella realized as they entered. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with leather-bound volumes that had probably never been read. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting warm light across the Persian rug. And beh

What they face was not the weak and helpless ant-like cultivator as they had expected but the wrath of the grim reaper in a black butler tuxedo wielding a rapier. “Sir, I’m afraid you’re in the wrong and at the wrong time. Might I suggest you evacuate out of here at once? Otherwise, I’ll need to forcefully remove you from this world.” The butler in the black tuxedo said toward the invaders in a British accent. The invaders look at each other before some of them rush at the Butler and get turned into thousands of slices of meat cubes as they fall to the ground that was littered with their blood, innards, and organs.

The next was a servant girl, her face was the representation of serenity and tranquility, her eyes were crimson like freshly spilled blood and she had divided pupils like those of a feline; her skin was unnaturally pale like a corpse's, her maid outfit was a combination of traditional nun dress and Victorian maid outfit. Followed by the previous maid, there was a peculiar butler, he wore a white long-sleeved shirt and on this was a sleeveless tuxedo vest of a peculiar light pink color, his hair was white as snow and to demonstrate his nature Inhuman on his head was a pair of ears similar to those of a fox and in the small part of his back a fluffy tail wagged slightly.

Alex . . Black…Black…Black…everything was fucking black. The walls that stretched from the tall ceilings, the two large sofas that faced each other, and the curved staircase that led upstairs—all black. I had no idea what Benjamin was thinking but this was depressing. I adjusted on the black stool at the inbuilt bar in one corner of the wide living room. My eyes fixed on the amber liquid glistening in the glass—the only source of color in this house. Each of Benjamin’s steps landed heavily as he drew closer, the thuds echoed in the almost empty house.

Then I hurried to Kuroyuki, who was maintain the wall from the silhouettes. "Kuroyuki— is that what I think it is…?" I asked. "…They— are us," Kuroyuki answered. The silhouettes are August (sword silhouette), Blaze (armbar silhouette), Kuroyuki (spear silhouette), Persia (black card silhouette), Rumelia (black string silhouette) and Kronos (black bullets silhouette). "They are one person short— so it's me who's not in there, huh. What is the meaning of this…?"

Only a few strands of silks coved the metal-looking flooring. As they strode, Murry smoothed his robe shirt and patted the invisible crease in his silk Nebos pants. He'd told the Nebos he was meeting a king and asked for a color that didn't make him look like a clown. Today the Nebos choose black. -I choose black to match my mood.- Petey murmured in his brain. -I'm not pleased with this situation nor you walking into unknown dangers.- -Don't be so dramatic. It's not unknown dangers.- Murry grinned. Petey sometimes sounded a little like Keltrix, except he used contractions.

“She said to bring the black one.” “I did,” I replied, trying not to laugh. “But sweetheart, none of these are black.” She looked down at them again. “I know. But they look black,” she muttered defensively. “They do not look Black,” Dante corrected gently, walking to where she was and crouching down to her level. “This one is a dark shade of blue. This one is brown. This isn't black; it doesn't even look close to it. And this one…” he picked up the fallen bag, “is definitely not black.”

In his mind, it will be suicidal to contradict my mate in front of me. We don’t have much time to take in the splendour around us. The Blakes may be dying out, but their money isn’t. After what feels like hours, the Butler finally opens the white doors that lead to the parlour. I almost collapse in shock. The fear flutters away like a dying butterfly.

- River lies on his couch, pondering the ceiling while E Business plays on the television set—showing an ad for some random moisturizer. He checks his phone, then lays it back on his chest, not even a grimace on his face for he was too weary. A second later, the advertisement finishes and begins playing live coverage of Sebastian Black, speaking to the press outside of the Black & Co. building.

“I'm just here to ask if you're comfortable with your room. If there is anything that you would like to change, just tell me.” “Ah, about that, it was good. I'm comfortable with the room, especially the bed, however, I'm not comfortable with the curtains. Could you please change those red curtains to white? Also the bed sheets too, it was red that which made me think that it was a bridal chamber. I don't like the color so I have to trouble you to change it to white or it would also be good if it's black.” I started with a polite smile. The butler was silent for a minute as if he was thinking about whether he should change it or not, then after he decided, he smiled at me again and answered,