Here's something that I don't think anyone in this fandom has attempted to cross so here goes: "How To Train Your Dragon" and "Kuroshitsuji". Yes, you read that right.

Disclaimer: I don't own "How to Train Your Dragon" or "Kuroshitsuji."

My name is Ciel Phantomhive.

The boy cringed inwardly. This was a stupid idea. At least Dagger's not here to see this; he'd never let me live this down. Gulping, he brought the pen down yet again, and with perfect (his peers had called it girly) penmanship, continued to write. Fireballs rained from the sky over his roof.

Firstly, I'm going to become the Queen's Watchdog very soon so whoever finds this, you better think twice before making fun of me. Now that that's out of the way, let us finish introductions.

"Die demon!"

That was definitely Bard's voice. Ciel rolled his eyes; the man was probably throwing bombs in an outrageously hammy fashion at the assaulting demons. A tremor shook the ground below him.

I live in London Village (it's not exactly a city yet), under the protection of death gods (or shinigami if you want the Japanese term; yes, I know, I'm too intellectual for my own good). I'm actually learning how to become a reaper myself- a human reaper; here, humans and death gods live together. Apparently, we have to unite against a common enemy: the demon.

"Grell, start that scythe! Maylene, prepare the holy water!"

Ciel scowled. His father was again leading the army of reapers (which was about three fourths of their village) against the hoarde. He could picture it now: the dark haired noble in all his glory, silver armor mounted, bringing comfort to all. That was something Ciel, with his asthma and frail build, would most likely never do.

A tremor almost sent him tumbling to the ground. Ciel crouched beneath the table, securing himself in its shadows.

My father is the great Vincent, the Earl of Phantomhive, respected by all (except maybe my aunt Frances- I think she has the ability to massacre the whole village if she wanted to). Anyway, he's the Queen's current watchdog and the person with the most political power in our village; even the death gods have to obey him. I think he's ashamed of me, the boy who's never done anything right (in his opinion anyway).

"Young master, what are you doing down there!"

Ciel looked up as Tanaka reached and pulled him out from under the desk. The old man miraculously had the strength to drag his charge out of their house by the collar (either that or Ciel was just really light). Ignoring the cries of panic from his fleeing neighbors, Ciel continued to write.

Right now the sky is raining hellfire. Red eyed demons are trying to burn our village; the sky is black and cloudy, mixed with a lot of red and orange. How scary. I'm used to it by now, though. Back to the main point, my father doesn't care about my ability to play chess or my ability to invent. That's why tonight I'm going to prove myself to him. I'm going to use my brain, not my muscle, to kill a demon.

Vincent threw his sword (the famous Excaliber) into the air, piercing a flying demon's heart. He barked at his men to shoot the holy water. They obeyed.

"Master Vincent!" Tanaka called, "the young master is next to me- he's alright!"

"Wonderful news, Tanaka!"

Another slew of devil corpses crashed to the earth. Several lenses flashed against the flames as Vincent's group of reapers cut through the remaining demons. Cinematic records shot through the sky. The earl rushed over to his son's side, effortlessly catching the Excaliber with one hand as it fell toward the earth.

"Father," the boy started.

"Ciel, I hope you learned something from observing."

"I did. Father, list-"

"Now go home and prepare for tomorrow. I heard that you were failing your physical courses."

"Father-"

"And tell Tanaka to make the bacon extra crispy tomorrow and to never ever under no circumstances let Bardroy cook."

"Father! I'm going to kill a demon!"

Vincent stared dumbfounded. Ciel did his best to look expectant, but his face only came across as jaded.

"Don't be silly, son. Go home and prepare."

Ciel's face fell and still came off as jaded. You have so little faith in me. Fists clenched, he ran past his father and the flaming wreckage, ignoring the earl's calls for him to return. All he needed was one chance, one risk-it-all endeavor.

"Ciel, get back here! Get back here!"

The village became a series of blots in the distance as Ciel found his legs carrying him across green fields and past tall trees. He stopped to catch his breath before finding his way around a large rock. Gasping from the effort, he managed to push a smaller rock out of the way, uncovering a man-made hole in the ground. A series of contraptions lay in it.

Quickly, with all the speed of a master chess player, the earl's son assembled a makeshift catapult, which unlike his villagers', could also shoot out nets. Good thing I already doused this thing with holy water. He jossed down one last note in the little notebook.

I'm writing this as my memoir, in case I don't make it back. At least that way, everyone would know I died trying.

Tucking the book in his pocket, Ciel began to push the machine toward the open field, again grunting from the effort. When he reached the center of the grass, the boy inspected the sky. Nothing. That's odd, they should be swarming by now.

Something appeared. Ciel squinted his eyes. The thing had wings, big wings. And it was coming toward him fast. Tensely, he put his hand on the machine's lever and pushed down. It jammed. Uh oh.

"Come on, come on."

He could see the burning red eyes. "Come on! Come on!" he urged himself. Crank.

A flash, an explosion, ripped the air. Burnt feathers fell to the ground, some tangling themselves in Ciel's hair.

"I- I did it," he whispered to himself. Since there was no one in sight, Ciel Phantomhive jumped for joy. He would never be able to do that in public.

Ciel found himself trudging down muddy hills and generally making a mess of his shoes as he followed a trail of black feathers. He had forgotten that the most important part of his mission was to bring his father the demon's body because without it, the venture was pretty pointless. And now he was paying for it.

"Are you out there?" he asked. Like it's actually going to reply you, dunce.

Sapphire eyes widened, bulged.

In a small thicket, the remains of a charred net were visible. Caught in the net was a humanoid bird? person? thing? and it looked like it had been spat out of the depths of hell itself. Shaking (slightly), Ciel approached the fallen figure, taking note of its crumpled wing. Wait, wing?

It was missing a wing. Ciel's pale complexion turned even more pallid as he saw the claws and talons on the creature. This was definitely a demon. And its chest was heaving up and down. So he hadn't killed it.

It's now or never. I can't stop now.

"Alright, demon, it ends now," he muttered, reaching into his jacket until his fingers wound around the hilt of small knife. He pulled it out.

And froze. The thing had opened one crimson eye, and it was staring warily at him. Ciel glared.

"I- I shot you down. I'm the one that's going to kill you."

Shutting his eyes tightly, Ciel brought the knife down and winced as... it met nothing. He opened his eyes. The demon lay unharmed before him and the knife sliced at empty air.

Father will kill me. I'll be hanged and burned at the stake. Then they'll play my cinematic record for all to see and Mr. Spears will fail me for life and Lizzie will be heartbroken and Alois will laugh.

Ciel cut the remaining cords of the net, lamenting his fate. It must have taken over an hour but he managed to pull the remains of the net off the wounded demon. Wounded. Now he'd have to nurse it back to health or there'd be no point of sparing its life.

Why do you have to make everything so complicated, Ciel? Shut up, Ciel.

The demon rolled to its side, making an inhuman noise of pain in the process. And Ciel winced as he saw the gaping bloody hole where he assumed its wing must have been. His logic must have steadily deteriorated because the next words that left his mouth were: "stay here. I'm going home to get some bandages." And he must have caught cannot-shut-up syndrome because he then said: "my name's Ciel. You can trust me."

The demon's red eyes clouded. It made a noise. Ciel backed away from it, fearful of the garbling sounds. Maybe trying to save it was a bad idea. The place where the monster's mouth was formed a shape and the sound that came out was clear, almost humanly clear.

"Ciel," it said.

That was it. He had to save it.

"Really, young master, master Vincent's really really mad at you," Finnian commented nervously as he handed Ciel the roll of bandages.

"Please, Finny," Ciel (pretended to) begged, doing his best to look at the gardener with watery eyes. It worked.

"Oh, don't do that, young master!"

"Thank you, Finny."

Ciel gave his servant a (fake) smile before opening his window and crawling out. "Be back soon, young master! And I hope that dog you found is alright!"

If it wasn't for the holy water, the demon would probably have regrown its wing. But at the moment, it was crippled, and Ciel wasn't exactly sure what to do with it. Wrapping the bandages had resulted in many bruises and abrasions (he'd have a hard time explaining that to Tanaka). Now both he and the demon were too tired to argue.

"What should I call you?" Ciel commented aloud.

"..."

"Come on, talk to me. You said my name didn't you?"

"Mu-mah, my... na-, name."

"Yes, your name."

"Yes."

He was proven wrong. The demon couldn't actually communicate; it could repeat noises though, and Ciel had a feeling that given the right teacher (himself), it could learn to communicate through the English language.

"I once had a dog- he was killed by a demon."

"Daemon."

"Yes, demon, that's what you are."

Ciel sat in front of the one winged demon, and both made no sound, staring at one another. Then slowly, strangely, the one wing receded. Feathers fell, lots of feathers fell, all its feathers fell. You're not molting, are you?

Talons became toes, feathers became hair, dark became ivory. Lips formed, claws became fingers, and the face became more and more defined.

Ciel stared, mouth gaping.

"Daemon," the demon, man repeated.

Ciel nodded dumbly. Save for the bandages around the man's shoulder and torso, he was completely nude, and Ciel was not comfortable staring at the less proper parts. But that was nothing compared to his shock at the demon (?)'s face. Raven locks hung over the head of a Greek god, more accurately, someone Grell would go crazy for.

Sucking in a breath, Ciel extended a hand to touch the thing before him, to make sure that this was real. The demon growled, shrinking back. Ciel bit his lip.

"I'm sorry."

He left his hand meeting the air. And slowly, the demon bowed his head, in a motion slight enough for his forehead to touch the boy's palm. Ciel felt the silky hair against his fingers, the smooth skin beneath his touch. It was real.

I'm staring in awe, reverence, ironically. What means that? That'll be his name.

"Sebastian, I'm going to call you Sebastian."

Silence. The sun was rising behind them, an orb of morning glory.

"You're- you're my demon, and I'm going to train you... to..." I need an easy start.

"To be a butler..." Yes, that's it.

This will remain a oneshot for now (at least until I finish "Not Butler nor Master"). Hope you enjoyed that and thanks for reading- Reviews are very welcome. ^_^