As You Wish

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{A/N: Okay, first off, lemme say that I am very pleasantly surprised at how this all came together given my play-by-play way of writing it. Second of all, I'm VERY salty that there's finna be more sections then I wanted in this story. I WANTED A BIBLICAL 40 CHAPTERS AND IT WAS TOO LONG! CURSES. Ah, oh well. Anyway, there's more to this than I planned there to be at this point. So, I had to split it up into more chapters if I wanted to actually value myself as a non-Dickensian (despite the fact this is fan-fiction and I'd be remiss to call myself an "author") but still, author. One day I might be. Who knows? I got real shit to bump. Back to this shit: It's not totally over, though the closer I get to the end, the more it may seem like it is. So, that being said, I WILL specify when it is, in fact, the end. Just so there's no confusion! As far as this part goes, here's the spin:

This occurs much much much much later, after everything is said and done. It's not on earth, which means it can only be one place. 'Awkward' family reunion round II: upstairs.}

Time wasn't a significant factor here, so it didn't feel like an eternity since you'd seen him. If you thought being with Azazel (as you'd been reprimanded for calling a high ranking, invaluable leader of countless soldiers, turning the tides against his former allies, by a cute, period-style name once belonging to a dog, given to him by a little kid playing with fire, only after getting burnt one too many times) on earth was enjoyable, this was euphoric. You wanted to call him what you wanted, since that made sense to you, and to those you cared about. No one but you even knew he was anything but human other than that little kid.

Speaking of which...

"Hey, Ciel!" You waved, your father and mother sitting lazily beside Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive, a black dog running around what was a somewhat irritated yet impressed young lioness. Your familiar. You half expected it to be a raven, but this wasn't his home, yet. "Throw it over here!"

Ciel nodded. None of you required anything you had then, bodies, voices, toys, but you were allowed the luxuries you wanted, Heaven was personalised for you, if you felt it more comforting. Ciel looked young, not the same as you'd left him, but not a kid either. You weren't sure why he was here now, you thought that Sebastian, or Azazel would have to die before the souls he'd consumed were freed, like in Dracula, a good book you wished you could get your hands on again, superfluous or not. But then again, this wasn't a book.

This was far better than anything humans could ever have written. The infinite prism of colours in the sky was momentarily broken as a large, light-yet-heavy bouncing ball hit Vincent right on his head, knocking over the ornate crystal glasses he'd filled with "wine." It tasted more like what you'd read about when you wanted to learn more about theology: the mythological nectar of the Gods, ambrosia, but wine was what they called it. Seemed more Christian. Maybe Ambrosia was too Greek. Even so, you were in your own version of the Elysian Fields, and now Rachel's pretty white dress was ruined. Well, as ruined as anything here could be. Your father laughed as Vincent hurled the ball back away from his son, Sebastian the dog bounding over the hills, as your own pet curled up alongside your father, your mother stroking its head. It purred. Someone you know would be jealous. You couldn't wait to see him again, to introduce him, and your "children" to your amazing, only-available-here personal lion. Her name was Sheba. Ironically. You called her Queen when you could get away with it.