Here's my newest Black Butler fic, Grell the Reaper. Don't judge me,... i know the title sucks :/
Plot Summary: The Phantomhive's are dead, and Angelina is a wreck, ending herself in the Undertaker's embrace. When she finds herself pregnant, what will she do with the child? And now Ciel is alive as well...
Warnings: Character Death (is it still a character death if they're human?) slight gore... in chapter 2. Implied sex/smut scenes... in this chapter. Prolly not in any later chapters... :/
***Important A/N: The story technically takes place when Ciel returns with Sebastian, right after being kidnapped and all that... (shit i'm getting confused here... O.O i need to re-read the manga...) Basically, its AU, cuz the story doesn't follow a specific arc in the manga or anime :/ Also, when I posted this on deviantart, I said the whole Jack the Ripper arc didn't take part in the story... though now I fail to see how its actually relevant to the story :/ shit i am so confused right now... I think I'm mixing two arcs...
OK! So, Ciel does return with Sebastian, and Madame Red does get pregnant, definately AU: she gets pregnant! She doesn't go on a killing spree or anything, her and Grell aren't partners in crime or anything. No murdering, just reaping. ^^
I'm sorry for the terrible description, I'm still somewhat confused (gee, how wonderful) but don't worry, when I planned out the story, I wasn't confused :D (though, if the story does end up getting mixed up, I shall sort it out... without having to re-write the entire story ^^)
Also, a BIG Thank-you to Himeka Michaelis-Sebby's Kitty, she gave me the idea of UndertakerxMadameRed=Grell ^^ And thank you to my younger cousin, who helped plan the story while we were driving her home ^^
The cold wind bit at her face as soon as she'd opened the pub door and walked out. It was just past midnight and Angelina stumbled out onto the dirty streets of London, not knowing where she was headed. Her mind was numb, which was exactly what had been her mission upon entering the pub, many hours earlier.
Her hair whipped around her face and her hat threatened to fall off her petite head as she followed the street lamps to guide her. Late passersby grumbled to themselves at the late coldness and at a woman stumbling around drunk, it was entirely unsuitable for women, much more for a woman of her class.
Her heeled shoes scraped along the stone streets as she swayed and nearly tripped several times. Nearby, a streetlamp illuminated the front of an oddly decorated store titled "Undertaker's". Thinking she could sleep in there for the night, for she had absolutely no idea where she was, Angelina made her way over to the door and turned the knob. When the knob turned instead of staying put as she had expected, she fell forward with the door, landing on the dirty floor with a loud thump.
"Owww " she mumbled, lifting her hand to rub at her sore head and pushing her hat off in the process. Clouded in her own drunken state, she had deaf ears to the sound of shoes making their way over to her. The robed man crouched down beside her and pushed some red hair out of her face so he could look at her more clearly.
"My my~, what have we here?" he chuckled as Angelina looked up at him with a very confused look. He lifted her up and she instantly put all her weight onto him, luckily, handling corpses all day gave him quite the exercise and muscle.
"Hoh there m'dear! Had too much from the bottle did we~?" he cackled softly, brushing some dirt off her beautiful red coat. She nodded and pushed herself to her feet, swaying slightly. She squinted and widened her eyes in attempt to see clearly.
Where was she? Even her numbed mind could tell she'd never been here before. And who was this wild-looking man? He had long grey hair, but his face bore no wrinkles. He wore a long, black hat... how odd. And long black robes with buckled boots underneath. What strange clothing. I'm sure I would've remembered ever having encountered this man before, she thought to herself as she unknowingly sat on a coffin.
The lid was open and she fell backwards, her chin reaching her knees and her arms sticking straight out. Undertaker hid his laughter behind his robed hand and went to help her out. Holding out his hand for her, she took it and pulled him down with her, causing her legs to widen and wrap around his waist. His nose tickled her throat as his hands fumbled for the base of the coffin to steady himself.
When he finally managed to stand up, he smiled at their fumble and took a step back, getting blocked when the Madame's legs tightened their hold on his waist. A thin silvery eyebrow shot up, but his long bangs covered that. She drunkenly smiled up at him, a smile that could easily be mistaken as a lewd one.
A hand reached up and wrapped itself in his robes and gently pulled him down, pressing their soft lips together. To say the Undertaker was shocked was putting it mildly. Even at his age it was hard to surprise or shock him, but having a drunken lady dressed from head to toe in red, stumble into his shop and kiss him, had to take the prize.
Seeing no harm in the situation, he kissed her back. Her hands inched their way around his neck and pulled him down, deepening their embrace. When the edge of the coffin pressed painfully into his hip bone, Undertaker broke their kiss, but only for a moment as he crawled on top of her, positioning themselves so they were laying in the coffin. Her legs were still spread apart to accommodate him easily and quickly pushed her lips against his.
Her kiss was sloppy, of course, but Undertaker didn't seem to mind as she fumbled with his top-coat buttons. His hat slipped off his head and tumbled to the ground, rolling under a nearby coffin.
Soon enough, her slim fingers had managed to push his coat off his shoulders, and with his help, shrugged it off entirely. Their tongues were now mixed in; rolling in and out of their mouths in a disorderly fashion, sending dribbles of spit down their chins and jaws as they pawed at each other's clothes until they were flesh on top on flesh.
Undertaker's hair got tangled quite quickly as Madame's hands trembled all over his body, grabbing onto anything they could latch themselves onto. A moan slipped out of her as their bodies rocked together, causing the coffin to wobble dangerously on its table. The door was still wide open, letting in the rain and cold wind, which helped cool down their over-heated bodies.
The sounds of their pleased moans, the rocking of wood on wood mixed with the roll and clash of thunder only added to their excitement. The rain increased, plummeting down so hard it would likely cause harm to those still wandering outside. Loud rumbles and bursts of thunder got louder and louder with each flash of lightning that illuminated the dark and shabby store.
If anyone were to look inside the open door, they would find a dark room filled with coffins, along with the back of a silver-haired mortician popping up from a coffin now and then. However, only a stray cat scurried into the shop to hide from the cold rain and loud noises, finding comfort in the forgotten top hat.
Soft mewls woke the Undertaker the following morning. He poked his head out of the coffin and found a small kitten peering up at him with wide eyes. He smiled and chuckled once he noticed the open door. Noticing several passersby, he clambered out of the box and quickly pulled his clothes on, but not before closing his front door and the blinds.
It didn't matter if he didn't open at his usual time; bodies rarely came in so early in the morning anyway. As he went to pick up his hat, he noticed the sleeping figure of the red-lady. Giggling like what some may find as an old pervert, he creeped to her side and lay her now crinkled red dress atop her exposed form, brushing a stray strand of hair from her closed eyes.
"Truly beautiful, you are m'lady." He murmured softly before taking her hand in his and lifting it to press a soft kiss to her knuckles before laying it back down. Tearing his gaze away from the beautiful but mysterious woman, he bent down to reach his hat, dusting it off and carefully placing it atop his mussed hair.
The kitten mewled again and he bent down again, holding out a long-nailed and bony finger to the kitten. It sniffed his finger before sticking its small pink tongue out and licking him. Smiling to himself, he picked up the small feline and carried her to a backroom to feed her whatever he could find. He was too preoccupied with his corpses to go out and properly feed himself anyways, so he tried to keep store of un-perishable food.
It was at that moment, when Undertaker had found a small can of tuna, that Madame Red woke. Her eyes fluttered open and she instantly realized she didn't know where she was. She knew perfectly well what her ceiling looked like, and this was not it.
She sat up slowly, taking in her surroundings and lack of clothes. Her head throbbed rather painfully and she glanced around before hopping out quickly, ignoring the pain, and wiggling into her clothes as fast as she could without tearing it. Once she'd found her hat and dusted it off, she raked her fingers through her hair to appear presentable and made her way to the door.
She didn't know who worked or lived here, and didn't care to know. She thought she had the gist of what occurred last night, and preferred to act as if nothing had happened, hence leaving unannounced. She scurried out of the darkly decorated store and walked up to the nearest friendly-looking face she could find for directions to a more familiar part of London.
I would greatly appreciate it if anyone gave me a helpful critique, either on the story or my writing-style, I AM trying to improve!
Thanks so much for reading! I'd loo~ve it if you might leave a small message for me in that little box just below here... ya, that one. Thanks!