Novel & Cerita Black Butler X Modern Reader

The butler exchanged a worried look with Mathilda while both their eyes flickered, apparently mindlinking before Mathilda went aside with her head low and the butler came and pulled Evelyn behind him. Evelyn could feel the butler's tensed nervousness, and that came a little surprising to Evelyn because the butler was obviously also a werewolf. Though in his forties, Evelyn doubted that would put an adult male werewolf at such a disadvantage against a woman in her twenties. "Maybe you would not mind letting me take care of this on my own?" Evelyn asked the obviously struggling butler as politely as she could. She didn't want to refer to his obvious fear too plainly.

Emily Parr. Blankenship threw himself into his chair and closed his eyes. His anger was a living, breathing creature, burrowed deep in his chest. Its bloody claws raked his insides and its beady black eyes fixed on his soul. He challenged the beast, pinning it inside the dark place in his head. He still had control, for a while yet. The butler entered with a decanter of brandy and poured a glass, setting it on the counter. "Will there be anything else?" Baltus wheezed.

** ** Omniscient Narrator ** ** With one of his hands still put against the wall, Mr. Blackwood grabbed Anna’s ass with the other and pulled her closer to him; he could feel her heartbeat against his bare chest as he gently squeezed her butt. Anna swallowed hard, trying to avoid eye contact with him, with both hands placed against his chest, struggling to not touch him, she was nervous.

Saying that, his long eyelashes lifted steeply, and his black eyes were incomparably deep, locking onto the old man on the opposite side. Boom! Xia Butler's heart exploded with explosions! What was the meaning of this? How could mister ask him such a thing for no reason? With a thousand thoughts in his heart, the old butler did not answer immediately. Shen Xiujin's dark pupils became even more hidden.

The space feels alive—exposed stone walls etched with faint storm runes that glow softly when the wind picks up outside, mismatched couches dragged into a loose circle, a low table scattered with half-empty mugs of tea, spell textbooks, and a deck of tarot cards someone left mid-reading. A record player in the corner spins something low and moody—old blues filtered through a modern vinyl crackle. Thorne Alexander Blackwood lounges on the arm of one couch, long legs stretched out, black leather jacket slung over the back. His dark hair falls into storm-gray eyes that still carry the faint red rim of vampire lineage, even in daylight. He’s sipping black coffee—straight, no sugar—watching the r

“I’m so fucked, Cal. I have to go.” Cal? Hana didn’t know a Cal. “What are you even up to?” Cal asked. “I’ll explain later. Bye.” When the call ended, Hana cleared her throat. The man raised his head, and a sigh of relief escaped her. He was not old. “Mr… Mr Black?” she whispered. He laughed. “Yeah. Miss Kent?” Hana nodded, and he pointed to the empty seat across from him. “Please have a seat.” Charles Black was not old. In fact, Hana could consider him handsome. Not as hot as her Kyle, but he wouldn’t lack female attention. She dropped her purse on her legs, forcing her lips into a polite smile.

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.

I cannot sum up the strength to ask any questions so I remain silent admidst the quiet rumble of the plane's engines and his thoughtful gaze. In that moment, I make another vow. I will be back. And I will kill that Russian Enforcer with my bare hands. I will wreck havoc on all he held dear. I feel my soul shed its colour.I feel it become blacker as the plane gains altitude.I feel it harden like steel, until I have to fist my hands over my chest to dull the ache. My name is Luca Blackstone going forth. And God so help anyone with negative affiliations with the Russian mafia that crosses my path. Death is a small mercy they would always beg for.

Flashback Scene - College Days The library of Blackwell University was as silent as a tomb, thick with the scent of old paper and paasion. Students parted like the Red Sea as Lucian Blackwell walked through the rows. The tall, sharp-eyed business heir, dressed in black. His reputation always entered the room before he did. Lucian Blackwell, the untouchable, brilliant and brutal cold prince. No one dared speak to him. No one… except her. “Maybe if you smiled once in a while, people wouldn’t think you were a grumpy vampire," Isla had said the first time they met sliding into the leather chair across from him, her stormy eyes lighting up with a smirk.