Sooo, this horrendous idea is finally over (Lol, I bash my own writings)
Halloween, SEE YA NEXT YEAR!
Disclaimer: Toboso Yana = owner of Kuroshitsuji.
R&R my lovelies~
Undertaker in a dress.
Ciel, wearing diapers?
Sebastian turned female.
Grell is furious about that.
What does this all mean?
Let us find out.
In the midst of the Phantomhive manor, lived a young boy with the title of a Count. All around London, he was widely known as Earl Phantomhive; but what the common people didn't know was that he was the Queen's Watchdog, the one who solved the heavy problems of murders, massacres, disappearances and the like in the area. The Undertaker was his informant, as he was the informant of the underworld for the Evil Nobles. So naturally the Undertaker has always seen the young earl presume a strong authority and announce to be treated as an adult, age and appearance aside. That was not the earl he knew that was currently in front of himself and the Red Reaper in something as childish and low as a toddler's costume...if it was a costume. The diaper cloth looked very real. Then there was the butler, Sebastian. Now that was a case different to the littler earl. Undertaker already knew of the butler's demon affinity and he was also familiar with their abilities...but changing genders...he did not know demons could do that, in fact, angels are supposed to be the only hermaphrodites between the immortals. Unless he himself sprout wings and flew alongside pigs, he refused to believe this was reality.
"...Uh...so, little earl... Care to explain why you are sporting such a delightfully comical wear tonight? Or did we interrupt you two in something intimate?" He chuckled at his own words.
"If you must know, I wear this awl the time; no one ever notices though." Ciel spoke with a two year-old's voice, still appearing a thirteen year-old physically.
He wore it all the time? When was this 'time' that I should most definitely know about –to laugh–? ...He sounded so girly~. Undertaker thought in return.
"Oh, do you now? That's good to know, little– no, infant earl~." The young boy huffed.
"Young master, your dinner will get cold if we don't hurry." Sebastian called out with his usual tone, yet sounding effeminate.
"Then, get me my apple sauce!" Ciel crossed his arms, grunting. Oooh, spunky~.
"Wait!" The redhead nurse shouted, taking all of the present people's attention. "This is outrageous!" Grell yelled, pointing at the obvious change in the butler's...physique to say the least.
"I'll say, darling." Undertaker agreed. "His breasts are too large for such a skinny body." Sebastian awkwardly coughed at that.
"...I meant that I should be a woman, not Sebby, you dunderhead!" The feminine reaper responded.
Pffft.
The two reapers and Female Sebastian turned their heads at the direction of the sound, the little human boy. Ciel had a light blush on his cheeks quickly.
"...I made a poopy..." A silence rose around them, before Ciel turned to his butler. "Bitch, clean it up."
Grell and Undertaker gasped in unison at the words uttered through the now-deserving-a-spank boy. A spank...not a bad idea.
"First, I am not a dog; second, that word is bad manners; third, that is what you get for eating so much chocolate, and cuatro...I shall get to it my lord." He–She sighed with the last count.
"Cuatro...? You know I don't know Portuguese."
"...That was Spanish, my lord."
"Haa! You're an idiot, brat." Grell broke their quarrel, earning a glare from Ciel. "And...about your gender...I could get used to the new you, Sebby~." A purr emitted from the redhead's mouth.
Shudder. "Satan, help me."
Undertaker was too busy processing everything in his twisted little mind –with a hint of jealousy seeing Grell flaunt over Sebastian's new form– to notice that his little zombie children had made their way into the manor. The dead's moans of hunger were heard from the approximate one hundred yards of distance between their position in the field and the four men. Scratch that, one crazy man in a dress, one woman/man, a gender-confused man wearing a nurse's outfit and a teenager acting like a baby.
"WHAT are those things?" Ciel looked disgusted at the zombies walking into his manor's property.
"Those things are my children, thank you." Undertaker snarled back, the ever-present grin disappearing for a second, and then returning.
"Children? Who did you mate with, the dead corpse of a woman?"
"...Yes, and her name was Charlotte." The other three stared at the mortician for a long second. "But that has nothing to do with this! The truth is, I don't know why they're walking around or why they called me Father, but they did, so I'm calling them my younglings~." The silver-haired man skipped merrily to his 'dolls'.
"...WHO'S CHARLOTTE?" Grell exclaimed to the older reaper.
"Hello my children, I missed you so much~. Did you all miss me?"
The meat puppets saw the Undertaker and immediately sprinted –yes, sprinted– to him, oozing body fluids and all. For the second time that night, Undertaker was hugged tightly by the strange mob of bodies, squeezing the air out of him.
"Guh...whoever said zombies are as slow as crap never met you~, darlings."
Suddenly, three forks flew up and onto one of the zombie's head.
"Sebastian, expose of those undead beings, now." The young boy ordered his butler. Ciel's voice was back to normal, diaper still present.
"Yes, my lord." The feminine butler drew four forks and knives in between his fingers and darted them on the zombies surrounding the Undertaker, taking out seven of them, one knife expertly caught by Grell.
"Hey, leave the babies alone!" Grell scoffed at the knife and threw it on the ground. "It's no fun if someone else kills them! Allow me~!" The red reaper started his chainsaw for a Death Scythe and proceeded to slash the undead now running away.
Man, they were running fast. "Stop fleeing darlings, you must understand, if you can think! Eating humans is no good, sadly~. So we must exterminate you like flies~." Undertaker told them and they reasoned to stay, somehow. Another fork flew onto a zombie.
Twitch.
He really didn't like someone besides Grell and himself take care of his children. But it was his little master's order, he couldn't avoid it.
Five more minutes later, and only one zombie was left standing, said zombie was both Grell and Undertaker's favorite: Marion, who didn't finish his sweater.
"Oh, sweetie~, at least finish it before we take your undead life away. It would be a good last moment with us, don't you think?" The funeral director gave the unfinished sweater to his little Marion, who gladly stitched it up with thread and a needle as the younger reaper had taught them. A few seconds later he was done. Horribly done, but finished nonetheless.
"There we go~. Now, this will be over quic–" Sebastian drew the last knife from his pocket and stabbed it through the cranium of Marion the meat puppet, distastefully. The kitchen utensil went past his head easily and pierced the Undertaker's head harshly, and painfully. Something fell to the floor.
The elder reaper looked down to see.
Oops.
"Grell, darling, I lost my mind! Go get it!" Apparently the Undertaker lost his mind, literally in a way, since he saw half his head (scar across his face upwards) on the floor. The ginger nurse rapidly grabbed it and placed it back in place, hat and all. Wait, how can I lose a part of my anatomy that's attached to my skull? Maybe I hit it too hard on that tombstone after all...
After everything was neatly restored and ordered he glanced at the sky above, wondering. The moon was still gone, and the stars shined brighter than before. Somehow there was something wrong with this picture...did he fall asleep? Reapers were known to have bizarre dreams when falling asleep on All Hallows Eve when a new moon loomed high.
All of a sudden, things made sense with that thought, but when did he fall asleep?
Then looking back on the butler returning to his master's side, their figures returned to their average wear and gender thankfully. But Undertaker was oddly filled with some rage. His little doll Marion was taken when it was his own to kill.
Screw the moon.
"Butler..." Undertaker's surroundings grew dark and eerie. Yup, he was mad for the first time in a long time. "I swear by the flames of Hell that I will tear your claws out slowly, cut off each of your limbs, excruciatingly with Grell's Death scythe –and that won't be pretty–, rip out your every organ with a spoon and actually, –with my bear hands–, pull off your head for killing my little doll without my permiss–GYAAHAAHHAAHAHAHAHAAH STOP TICKLING ME, DEAR!"
Grell had started tickling the pink-wearing reaper's ribs and sides for no justified reason, and didn't stop.
"M-m'dear, you –kufuu– you can st-stop now –gahah! – I c-c-an't BREATHE! GYAHAHAHAAHAH!" The poor convulsing reaper spat and coughed, unable to catch his breath, the redhead not allowing it. The world seemed to fade out as he cackled and cried out. He heard ringing in his ears for a second before prying his eyes open to stop the reaper.
"Undertaker~" It was Grell's voice speaking, teasing.
"Undertaker?"
Undertaker...?
Undertaker...
Soft gray view.
Undertaker?!
A strong grip on the shoulders.
WAKE UP!
Undertaker slammed his eyes open too quickly, his eyes burning against the sight of the rising sun. He took a look around, over the ground, ran his hands over his head and sat up straight to look at Grell.
They were back in the graveyard, wearing the same old clothes –well, Grell was wearing his witch's wardrobe again– no bodies, no giant hole in the ground, no screaming rats or she-males around, finally.
"You know, you've been sleeping for a few hours now, but you didn't wake up no matter what I did. So I decided to tickle you~." Grell giggled sweetly.
"Asleep? Oh, Thank God it was a dream." Undertaker let out a sigh with his words and returned his character smile.
"Hmm? What did you dream about?"
He recalled the hallucination for a moment. No, he won't tell the reaper anything about that... Instead Undertaker would rather contemplate Grell's face light up on the sunrise than think.
"It's nothing m'dear~." He made a promise with himself not to sleep anything this week.
And affirmatively he did not sleep a wink until a week had passed and the horribly weird events of that night were forgotten, but when the earl came around to his shop for information, Undertaker couldn't help a chuckle escaping his lips, and he would never look at the butler directly in the eye again, lest he get the urge to kick his face... Hard.
Grell was not safe either. He wore many different types of clothing around the elder reaper now, whether it was to walk around in town or to soon be removed by long black talons and have...'vigorous exercise'.
Be wary of a Void Moon on the most festive night of the year and an over-zealous Undertaker.
Crack. Is. Over.
And say good-bye to it because it's the only crack I will impulsively write (mostly I write drama, romance and lovey-dovey stuff)
Signing out!
~Cookies