Om Satan X Reader - Tumblr Posts

satan: i hate stupidity

MC: do you think god approves of tampons

satan, taking his shirt off: you fucking idiot

Can't wait for the next chapter, Author-nim😋

Thanks for the food~

This Couple is Unusual

Chapter 2

Chapter 3 This couple, competing

cw: one suggestive implication

The young earl suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, impatiently waiting for the undertaker to stop his hysterical laughter. Undertaker's chest heaved, choking on his gasps of air. He had to support himself on one of his many coffins, wiping off drool from his chin. Amused, you observed the earl whose visible eye twitched slightly and only now do you notice the eyepatch peeking out from under his sidebangs. He hadn’t noticed you yet or was ignoring you on purpose.

The raven-haired butler stood right behind him but his calculating eyes were fixed on Satan. Three more people were with them - a man of Chinese heritage, a lady dressed in red from head to toe, and next to her another butler, timidly looking around and plain as the day compared to the rest.

“Ah, Earl. I was wondering when you’ll step through my doors again. And you couldn’t have arrived at a better time~” Undertaker had finally composed himself, stepping closer to the boy. “Is today the day you have come to see how it feels to sleep in my custom-made coffins?”

A scoff left the kid's lips “I didn’t come here to play arou-” A finger touching his mouth silenced him. “I know exactly why you are here, no need to tell me. Although you are not the only one looking for answers today~” Undertaker grinned, a subtle nod ordering all attention on the two of you.

The air tensed as Ciel Phantomhive narrowed his eye(s), glancing towards his butler, you, and the blond next to you, who had his gloved hand protectively on the small of your back. You raised your hand, waving.

“Who are you?”

“Ah, we’ve met briefly,” Sebastian threw into the room, leaning forward to whisper into his ear. You did the same with Satan, asking him if you should take your leave. He nodded and displayed a practiced smile “We remember, feel free to take no account of us, we were on our way out anyway.” He turned to Undertaker “Again, it was our pleasure. Until next time, should we not solve the case first.”

A bolt of lightning could be imagined between the two of you and them, an unspoken challenge.

You were watched when you walked out, Satan holding the door open for you and you couldn’t help the cheeky upturn of your lips when you passed the boy who looked like Belphegor, the ‘Queen’s watchdog’ Cavendish most likely had warned you about.

The funeral director hummed “The international press is surely committed these days~”

Ciel scoffed. As if some no-name reporters could solve his case.

True to your estimation, Satan was hooked. You spent the next couple of days researching suspects - experts from the medical field, from bourgeoisie to proletariat.

The thesis of the culprit being involved with black magic was also in the room (which was scarily popular during this time) plus there was the possibility of Jack the Ripper being more than one person - a statement by yours truly, so you had the honor of persuading this path on your own so he could make more background checks. With the help of the Sorcerer’s Society and the documentation of the Yard, you were able to narrow down the circle of suspects, even if Satan was way quicker thanks to him being a demon. Were you dragging him down? The avatar of wrath had answered your suspicion with a kiss on your temple and a reassuring smile.

After an exhausting day, you have thrown your jacket on the ground and let yourself fall onto the covers of your bed. Feet aching, your magical energy drained from teleporting and your belly full from the three-course dinner Satan invited you to. Tomorrow, you told yourself, will be a shopping spree day. After all, a promise was a promise, and you were still missing some souvenirs.

Satan joined you shortly after, his fingers grazing your back, playing with the hooks of your bodice holding it together.

“Tired, huh?”

You hummed in agreement, more so when he started to work on the knots of your trapezius. He chuckled at your soft sighs, slowly pulling off the fabric to touch the top of your spine with his lips. “Mhm, not that I don’t like this but I should shower first, don’t you think?” Satan gently turned you around, hovering over you, his blond strands framing his face nicely and green eyes longingly boring into yours.

“Right after, my dear wife.”

A fit of giggles fell from your lips in response to his kisses, suddenly not minding your exhaustion at all.

“We have a promising clue,” Sebastian stated, elegantly serving a new pot of tea to the guests sitting under the chandelier in the drawing room of the Phantomhive manor. “A doctor, knowledgeable in human anatomy, connected to a secret society or black magic: matching with the criteria for the Whitechapel case would be the Viscount Druitt - Lord Aleister Chamber Although he is a medical school graduate, he hasn’t worked in a hospital or been involved in this profession. He has hosted several seasonal parties in the near past, but rumors say various parties were only attendable by those close to him.”

Angeliana Durless alias Madam Red, Ciel’s maternal aunt, leaned back into the comfy parlor chair, finger on her chin “Viscount Druitt…come to think of it, I do recall he has been into black magic lately.”

“He is also suspected of running some sort of secret ceremony during his parties. There is a possibility of him having prostitutes sent in as altar sacrifices for dark rituals and, or selling their organs and body parts to his guests.”

Lau, the second guest argumented, sipping from the delicate cup in his hands.

“Appropriately, he is hosting a party at the 19th hour of this day as the seasonal period will end with it. The ideal time for an investigation, don’t you agree, young master?”

Sebastian smiled eerily, already knowing the answer. Ciel gripped his fork.

“Madam Red, you sure can arrange something, can you?”

She answered with a laugh “What do you take me for, my dear nephew? Aren’t I quite popular? A word here, a word there - I have an invitation in no time~”

/This might be our only chance!/

A few hours later, the carriage arrived at Viscount Druitt’s lavish manor. People in their prettiest gowns and best suits were guided inside.

Ciel Phantomhive crossed his glove-covered arms, waist arching from that torturously tight-laced corset he was forced to wear. For their undercover-mission, he had to pose as his aunt's niece from the countryside and Sebastian being ‘her’ home tutor. Lau, who was uncharacteristically dressed in a smoking suit, was Madam Red's lover for the night. Only Grell was left out from acquiring a new role.

“It seems tonight will be rather enjoyable.” Lau hummed, eyes closed.

/Maybe for you, you don't have to dress up like a girl!/

“Don't make such a face. You look so cute!” his aunt teased, bringing Ciel in a bone-crushing hug “I always wanted to have a daughter to dress up so prettily!”

The Earl blushed, annoyance over his face. /This is humiliating/

He had to wear a blush pink dress with white ruffles and black accents, decorated with bows on the dress itself and over his chest. The equally pink headpiece with a white bow had also pink roses attached and sat nicely on his long twintail wig, hiding his eyepatch perfectly from view. If he had to describe it, it was pompous and utterly girly. Something he'd associate with his fiancé.

“Don't tell me you don’t like it? A lot of cloth had to be used for this to happen, you know. In France, nonetheless. It's all in vogue!”

“Let go of me now, why would I like it?!” Ciel snapped.

“Oh my, shouting so loud isn't becoming of a Lady,” Sebastian immediately reprimanded him with a smile, a gloved hand pushing up his glasses. He too was dressed up handsomely, black suit over a pristine white shirt and an ascot wrapped around the high collar. “Did you not say, you would ‘use any means necessary’?”

Ciels skin took an unhealthy red color but he did remember. Viscount Druitt was a man with catholic taste after all, so him posing as a girl was the perfect coverage, wherever he liked it or not. This was for the case.

“Shall we go then, my Lady?”

As expected, security was tight but they went in without facing any problems. To say the ballroom was packed was an understatement. It would take a while for them to find Lord Chamber.

Ciel started to complain about his get-up, stating he wouldn't want to see his fiancé dressed like this.

“Wow, your headpiece is exquisite!”

“Oh, why thank you!”

The Earl groaned “I'm starting to hear things like she is-”

“Oh, there are so many pretty dresses, but yours looks the best so far! Like a princess from a fairytale!”

“Aren't you energetic? You look very cute yourself. Just make sure to not bump into someone while running around.”

“Will do!”

“...here.”

Sebastian and Ciel turned around at the same time with horror.

He had to jinx it, hadn't he?

Geeze, I wonder who Lizzy was talking to 🤔

I planned to put more plot inside but decided to cut the chapter I had planned (this already has 1,5K words, and I don't want to rush through it

Until next time!

Status: unedited

Yey! A new chapter :D

This Couple is Unusual

Prev./Next (WIP)

Chapter 5 This couple, coffin talk

cw: flashback lesson 16 OM

The first time you died was during your first school year in the Devildom. 

You have felt bad for him, being stuck in this stuffy attic all by himself. He had reached out to you early on, a whisper in the night, urging you up the stairs. That Lucifer tried to stop you only fueled your curiosity.

The big bad brother who locked the youngest up after an argument. Of course, you made pacts with the other five brothers to break the magical lock to the attic. 

He was so grateful, pulling you into a warm embrace.

He hugged you tightly.

“You humans really are foolish, idiotic, weak creatures, aren’t you?”

Tighter. 

You couldn’t move.

“Hehe. Does it hurt? Finding it hard to breathe? I’m sure it must be very unpleasant.”

Tighter. 

“You’re so stupid that I can’t help but laugh. Don’t blame me for tricking you, blame yourself for falling for it.”

Tighter. 

“I hate humans. I hate them more than anything in the three worlds-”

Your ribcage cracked, puncturing your insides.

“And I hate you!”

Why this particular scene flashed before your eyes, you didn’t know for you had already forgiven him. The time you sacrificed yourself for Lucifer or several other instances you had put yourself in immediate danger would have left a better taste in your mouth. 

Now, a scythe's polished, pointy tip was millimeters away from your face. It would have pierced through your left orbit if you didn’t bend backward the time and way you did thanks to Luke’s blessing no doubt. The sharp edge of the death dealer ominously glistened in the candlelight. 

“Didn’t you know that curiosity killed the cat, my dear?” a voice croaked to your right, amusement resonating within. From your peripheral vision, you could see his dark boots that had no business having this many belts (nor him having legs this long).

“But satisfaction brought it back,” you breathed out, voice shaky. A bead of sweat of fear trickled down your temple as the rapid beating of your heart continued.

Undertaker chuckled and pulled the scythe away from you, lovingly grazing the smooth side of the cutting blade. You stared at the tool that was not designed to cut grass or harvest grains. It had the shape of an elongated bone structure; the edge of the blade ended in a skull that was decorated with thorns around the forehead and the shaft went directly into the skeletal thorax with all its components. 

He held out his free hand for you to take, pulling you upward. His skin felt weird to the touch, neither warm nor cold. Just like Thirteen’s. Undertaker gently turned your hand, thumb striking over the seal on the back before letting go, making you wonder if he recognized the sigil that proved your affiliation with the Sorcerer’s Society or the ring of light around on your finger. He eventually took a step backward, giving you a moment to ogle him.

Actually, without being fully veiled by his black overcoat, revealing a matching dark robe, and without his crooked top hat Undertaker even kind of looked … attractive there and then. His choice of clothing and jewelry was interesting for his time, if not ahead of it.

Moreover, with the murder weapon at hand, he didn’t look like a demented oddball anymore but the personified harbinger of death. A grim reaper, a Shinigami.

Oh.

Oh.

Now you knew he recognized you as a sorcerer and some other things about him started to make sense.

Undertaker stored his scythe away, locking the closet with a satisfying click. His lips were curled upwards when he turned back around. Since his bangs covered the upper half of his face, you couldn’t read his true emotions. 

/I wonder if he has phosphorescent eyes, too./

“Heh, be more careful when snooping around, unless you’re dying to experience my coffins firsthand,” Undertaker said, snickering at his own little pun at the end.

“Err, it’s definitely not on my bucket list for 1888. Dying ain’t fun,” you quickly denied, mumbling the last part. You awkwardly rubbed your sweaty neck when you felt him staring from behind his long bangs. 

Wait, he couldn’t know what a bucket list is, couldn’t he? 

“A bucket list is a to-do list before ‘kicking the bucket’,” you quickly explained. 

The mortician hummed “Interesting choice of words. Although, even if it’s the basis of my work, I understand death is undesirable - but - maybe such topics should be discussed over a cuppa and biscuits, don’t you think? You’re still shaken.”

This is how you ended up sitting on one of his coffins across from him, a measuring beaker with black tea in hand. 

Undertaker, who sat cross-legged on another death box, held out a black urn toward you, silently instructing you to take whatever was inside. Having lived in the Devildom for so long nothing food-related should and could surprise you anymore. 

Still, you must have looked baffled when you fished a biscuit in the form of a dog bone from the alienated cookie jar because the silver-haired man let out a little cackle. “Go ahead, they’re delicious, I promise~”

He was right, they were! The sweet taste was welcomed after your near-death experience. 

“Gosh, you need to give me the recipe for these. I’ve got some baking-loving friends back home.”

“Hmm, I might, if you pay me with a good laugh, of course,” he answered cheekily, bouncing his crossed-over leg.

“Wait, for real? … Let me think about one…”

Undertaker waited patiently, munching on his treat. 

“Okay, you see, my favorite childhood memory is building sandcastles with my dear grandfather – well, that was until my mother took his ashes away.”

…

Turned out that simultaneously eating and laughing was not a good idea. 

The silver-haired choked on the cookie as the laugh got stuck in his throat, bending over, battering his chest with suppressed giggles (why) while you shot up in a panic, refilling his cup. “Oh my god, are you alright?”

He made a gesture of refusal with his hand, knocking the beverage back.

“That was a killer, young Miss,” he said once you two calmed down, acting like nothing happened.

“I have yet to ask what I owe the pleasure. I assume you're still busy with the murder case, hm?”

You lowered the recipe Undertaker gave you beforehand, regarding him with a mirthful grin. “Nope. I was gift hunting for the family and ended up in front of your store by chance. Maybe it was fate? For the article, well, I don't think the Queen's cute little watchdog would let us publish anything remotely true once he finds out who Jack the Ripper is.”

Undertaker’s lips curled into a grin as well “Oh, you figured it out?”

“Yep. Yesterday's event confirmed our suspicion. Not that you sound surprised at all, tho.” 

“I had a feeling you’ll succeed. I’m sure the young Earl won’t be far behind for he is the good lapdog of Her Majesty.”

You made a face “Never have I imagined a child being responsible for resolving the disruption of the general society. Seriously, putting himself in danger like that.” 

“And that collar will choke him someday,” Undertaker said, his voice dropping an octave. “If not for his self-imposed duty, his butler will certainly be his undoing.”

“Well, if the Earl can’t find a way to circumvent his contract, that is, even for a certain amount of time. Employers tend to find a way to go around their agreements, so it’s technically not impossible.”

The mortician tapped his lips with his index. A grimoire - he hadn’t considered this possibility for they are seldom found. It would require Sebastian Michaelis’ true name and free access to Hell. However, different matters solicited his attention; exempli gratia Karnstein, so he would keep your words in mind. An interesting human you were; just maybe …

A low vibrating sound broke his thoughts. 

“Shit, I hate to cut our talk short but…” you said, eyes fixating on the screen of the D.D.D. you halfway pulled out of your dress pocket “...look at the time. Sata- err, my husband is expecting me soon and I still have to make the way back.”

You pushed the phone back and walked up to him.

“Thank you for the tea and cookies. I don’t know how long we’ll stay in London but I hope we meet again before we leave.” 

You gave Undertaker your brightest smile, surprising the Shinigami but he gently held your outstretched hand. Hands he had taken souls with.

“Likewise, young lady. Be careful on your way back. You never know what lurks around the corner.”

“Noted!”

You took your bag from where you nearly met your untimely end and walked to the door. Grabbing the knob, you turned your head backward. 

Feeling bold, you let a slight gust of wind whip around his face, revealing his odd green eyes that widened slightly at your display of magic. Proud of yourself, you winked and waved goodbye, your smile branding itself into his mind.

Laugher filled his empty store.

“What an interesting sorcerer~”

Hello folks! Writing this chapter was really hard for some reason and I struggled with the decision of putting a scene in or not. As you can see, this chapter is rather short, meaning I cut a scene out. It involved the harassment of MC. (In Victorian London some men were pathetic and walked up to unaccompanied women, even from higher ranks, assuming they were streetwalkers. In this case, the reader would have been approached by Grell with the idea in mind to make the case more personal. I'm not sure I handled this well enough in my draft, so here we are)

𓆩⚝𓆪 — I'm actually cooked...

𓆩⚝𓆪 — Synopsis: Texting the Obey Me! Brothers that you're cooked on a test... But you're actually not.

𓆩⚝𓆪 — Contains: gn!reader (though reader gets called bbg twice), fluff, humor

𓆩⚝𓆪 — Warnings: foul language, cringe? idk first obey me fic, cut me some slack lol.

𓆩⚝𓆪 — A/N: yippee my first obey me post!! <3

-ˏˋ⋆ Lucifer

-ˏˋ⋆ Mammon

-ˏˋ⋆ Leviathan

-ˏˋ⋆ Satan

-ˏˋ⋆ Asmodeus

-ˏˋ⋆ Beelzebub

-ˏˋ⋆ Belphegor

𓆩⚝𓆪 — thank you for reading!

𓆩⚝𓆪 — taglist (ask 2 be added); @nostalgic-muffins

𓆩⚝𓆪 — making an obey me masterlist soon! | masterlists