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xxstraymoonchildxx · 5 months

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This Couple is unusual

Synopsis: You and Satan are currently hyper-fixating on the human world’s Victorian-era and True Crime. Since your birthday is coming up, you ask Barbatos for a special gift - a trip to Old London to find out the culprit behind the Jack the Ripper case. Who would have thought you’d met one Hell of a Butler? (Kuroshitsuji x Obey Me! Crossover)

Prologue

cw: none

You and Satan sat hurdled together in his room, a book in each of your hands. It was quiet, only your calm breathing and the occasional rustling of a page being turned filled the room. It was pleasant. The other brothers knew better than to bother you two when engaging in your weekly reading session, only Lucifer forced the both of you to eat when lunch or dinner was ready. The two of you were currently inhaling the Sherlock Holmes series from the human realm and after finishing the current edition you’d usually engage in various discussions. Occasionally, Simeon was part of your little book club, being a writer himself, but he was sometimes unavailable when Lord Diavolo called for meetings and such.

“Did you know that they never solved a famous murder case in England in the 1800s?” You threw the question into the room when both of you closed your editions at nearly the same time. “Huh, I think I’ve heard about them. Jack the Ripper, if I’m remembering correctly”

You hummed “Right, it’s one of the most popular serial killer cases that is still unsolved. Victims were all women, prostitutes to be exact and they were mutilated from the inside, really nasty if you ask me.”

Satan nodded curtly “Some humans are definitely up to par with our kind regarding violence and brutality.”

“True, true. Still, I am strangely fascinated by that mystery. Makes me want to travel back in time to solve it.”

A pause.

Satan’s lips curved upwards, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Well, I think there could be a way. If we can manage to persuade a certain demon that is.”

“Not fair, I wanna go, too!” Mammon hollared, glaring daggers at his blond younger brother. Satan, joined by Belphegor, rolled his eyes at his antics. “Lololol, Mammon’s being desperate again” Leviathan snickered while the others decided to ignore the Avatar of Greed’s tantrum altogether. Everyone knew he was interested in swiping up valuable items from the past to sell as authentic antiques in the present and being jealous on top of that.

“Sorry Mammon,” you tried to calm him with a soothing tone “We do something together when we come back, okay? I’ll even bring souvenirs for everyone~”

“You better,” Mammon huffed and pouted, cheeks dusting pink from your cute expression.

“Don’t forget to wear the outfits I picked out for your trip!” The avatar of lust chimed in “And make lots of cute pictures!”

“Will do, Asmo.”

Satan huffed, growing agitated by the minute “We should take our leave”

“Satan,” Lucifer stepped closer, signaling his brother to step aside for a private talk while you were being encircled by the other five “I entrust that you protect her from any harm. You know how careless she can get.” Satan mentally huffed, glaring at his brother “I’m very much capable. She’s safe with me,” Lucifer nodded, unaffected by the harsh tone. “Good, come back safely”

“Don’t need to tell me that”

You left the House of Lamentation, each of you carrying a large suitcase, and headed over to the demon lord's castle, leaving a bunch of disappointed brothers behind.

On your way, you ran into Simeon and Luke who were on their way back to Purgatory Hall. They greeted you two; Luke gave you a tight hug as well. “Simeon told me you’re about to go to the past in the human world, is that true?”

“Yep, we want to do some hands-on research. We won’t be gone for long, so please don’t be worried about us”

“I’m not worried,” Luke denied with a blush (he was). “Of course you don’t have to be, I’m with her as well” Satan chimed in with a smirk. Simeon chuckled “I must admit, I am a bit jealous. It sounds like quite the adventure. I can’t wait to hear about your experience.” Luke let go of you “Uh-huh. Me too! Simeon told me the 1800s are a bit dangerous, so please accept my blessing!”

“I thought you weren’t worried, Luke,” Simeon said with a chuckle. The child’s cheeks burn brightly “S-still. Just to be safe! Better safe than sorry, right?”

“That is kind of you. I make sure to bring you a gift.”

His eyes sparkled and his smile widened. Then he closed his eyes, muttering a blessing. A colorful light engulfed you and you felt suddenly very light and warm inside.

“Stay safe you two!”

Barbatos greeted you near the entrance, standing proudly in the entrance area; looking fiendishly handsome like always.

“I was awaiting you, please follow me” He led the two of you through the majestic golden Hall down to a familiar room. You went there back in your first year when you had to prevent Belphegor from killing you (You prefer not to think about it)

“Diavolo sends his best regards but he is currently buried in work and is unable to leave his office” You don’t doubt it was thanks to Barbatos but didn’t comment on it. “We appreciate him thinking about us,” Satan stated and you nodded in agreement. “Thank you again for my early birthday gift, you’re the best” The butler smiled with closed eyes “Don’t forget the rare tea leaves for my payment. And try to not make too much of a mess” You feigned a gasp “I would never!”

“Are you ready?” Barbatos opened a portal in a mirror.

Satan met your gaze, a soft smile on his lips as he grabbed your hand.

“Let’s go!”

Alright, so what do we think?

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xxstraymoonchildxx · 5 months

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This Couple is Unusual

Prev. / Next

Chapter 2 This Couple, investigating

cw: bad humor, graphic description of a corpse in the second half

You didn’t know who looked more perplexed. Satan or the, admittedly handsome stranger with the pitch-back hair. They still stared at each other, both bent down to touch the felines, it was almost comical. Slowly they stood up, both with a kitten in hand. Satan cleared his throat. The other person did the same. They eyed each other for a long moment, the felines meowing and tugging at their dress pants begging for attention. It reminded you of Mammon and Asmo.

“I did not expect to run into another person with a love for cats,” the stranger said while bowling politely with a practiced smile on his lips.

“Likewise. Well, there is much to appreciate about them obviously.”

You weren't sure but it looked like they were bonding telepathically.

/Is this the beginning of a new romance?/

Whatever it was that was happening in this non-verbal dialogue, it was cut short quickly.

"Sebastian, what are you doing?!”

A small person a few feet away appeared out of nowhere, a scowl on his young face. He couldn't be much older than twelve or thirteen. It was obvious that he tried to appear more mature from his fashion choice - a top hat and high-heeled shoes and in his hand a walking cane like the other gentlemen walking around the area.

He clicked his tongue, watching the cats with disdain. The blue shade and style of his hair reminded you of Belphegor’s and he had the youngest sibling-energy around him to match; now you couldn't unsee it (It would be funny if he had a twin).

“Please excuse me, it was my pleasure, Sir. Farewell.”

“I apologize for the wait, young master.”

“Tch, let's hurry already.”

“That was weird. But they kinda remind me of some people I know,” you deadpanned, watching the duo with the interesting dynamic leave until they vanished between buildings.

Satan checked into the hotel. Not that you weren’t capable of doing it yourself but you had to follow the customs in this era whether you liked it or not.

It did come with a bonus. Satan was in uncharacteristically high spirits from the moment you stepped into the hotel room together. Unbeknownst to you he was happy that he could spend this and the coming nights with you, in the same bed, without having to worry that one of his brothers would barge in, demanding time with you - and way too kind you, usually folding.

You readied yourself for bed, longing to sink into the mattress from this exciting day but first you had to shower - technically you’d have to do with a sponge bath but luckily you were a sorceress and had the right spells on hand to do the trick, courtesy of Asmodeus. Satan helped you with your dress, opening the back for you. The outer material pooled at your feet. “This dress sure has many layers,” you couldn't help but complain as you stepped over the striped dress, untying the padded bustle from around your hip, shaking off the thin petticoat and the corset cover. Satan watched you twiddling with the lacing of your corset while walking into the bathroom. He respectfully looked away, pulling out his nightwear, a dark blue pajama.

In the modest bathroom, you dropped the rest of your undergarments “Spirit of water and wind, I, the sorcerer y/n command thou to clean and dry my earthly vessel.”

After everything was done, you changed into a simple tank top and a pair of satin shorts and handed the bathroom over to Satan, who joined you in bed fifteen minutes later.

There the two of you lay, snuggled up together with you tucked under his arm and him with a book in hand for you to read.

Wasn't all this wonderfully domestic?

The next day

Bold letters hung above the entrance door, spelling the word “Undertaker” and a skull on top of the sign.

You decided to visit him after getting an approval letter from Scotland Yard. The wine did wonders! Anyway, the funeral parlor looked very interesting from the outside! On the right two anthracite coffins and three sotoba - you had to ask Satan what those even were - were leaning against the brick wall. On the left were two tombstones and a flag leaning against one of them. The cobwebs were a nice detail, too. /Guess you need to stand out from the competition/

A little bell jingled when you stepped inside. It was dark and it took a moment for your eyes to adjust. The candle chandelier didn't do much to illuminate the place. Satan didn't have this problem, his bluish-green eyes observing the unfamiliar room.

Coffins were standing around, even the counter was a massive exemplar. Large shelves with various bottles and jars containing questionable items crosses on the wall, skulls, and a human skeleton in the back. The place had cobwebs inside and out and needed a good dusting.

Not that he was any better with his room back in the House of Lamentation but at least it was squeaky clean.

“Hehehe”

The coffin on your left suddenly squeaked open. A set of dark long nails tapped the wood, pushing the lid to the side.

“What a nice surprise, customers in the making!” the man said in a squeaky voice, giggling like a madman. An interesting entrance for sure. As unique as the person itself. A crooked top hat sat on top of long silver hair, the bangs hid his eyes, leaving only the lower part visible which displayed a wide, crazed smile and a prominent scar running from his cheeks up and over his nose.

With swift steps he glided over the floor, stopping himself just right in front of Satan, leaning in. “What brings you to me, care for a test lay in one of my first-rate coffins? We have a pair, brand new~ Care for a fitting?” Irritation oozed from the blond, so you decided to step in. “Excuse us, Mister...eh” His head snapped towards you, still grinning “Undertaker~”

“Yeah, I can see that?”

“Hehe, no, that's my name,” he slyly boobed your nose with his long index finger or rather his nail. Asmo would love to paint them.

“Oh, like a pseudonym for an artist. Noted.”

Undertaker twirled around, the long black coat fluttered along with his movement and the mourning lockets around his waist clicked together. “Artist! Oh my, how flattering! It sure is, preparing my guests for their most important day.”

“So?” the funeral director drawled out, propping himself up against the counter and crossing his legs. (You noticed the slight shift in his demeanor, planting the thought inside your head that he looked kind of cool when he didn’t act like a weirdo). Satan cleared his throat “My name is Holmes and this is my wife. We are journalists from America and have permission to write about the Whitechapel murders in all their detail. We were informed you are in charge to autopsied the victims”

His wife. You blushed.

You did talk about playing a married couple while undercover but hearing the term from his mouth and addressing you made your head all fuzzy while Satan felt pride swelling in his chest that rivaled Lucifer's.

Undertaker hummed like he already knew about you. “It will cost you,” he grinned.

“How much?” Satan was ready to pick out his wallet but Undertaker beat him to it. In the blink of an eye, he dashed forward, halting close to Satan’s face. “I don’t desire the queen’s coins. What I want is…”

A dramatic pause.

“...a Joke. Make me laugh~”

/This human is unreal-/ Satan’s left eye twitched.

“Well, they do say ‘A kingdom for a joke’” you chirped in while Satan gave you a side eye. Undertaker giggled excitedly, plopping down on one of the coffins. You raised your hand as if in class. “Let me try!”

You took a moment to ponder over your options, searching for a joke that wasn’t too modern.

“A man and his son are driving past a graveyard. Suddenly the son leans forward asking “Do they ever bury two people in the same grave?”

Surprised the father said “Of course not! Why ask such a question?” His son replied “Well, I read a gravestone that said “Here lies a lawyer and an honest man”

Silence. Satan sweatdropped.

You were worried for a moment, thinking /Maybe I should have told the orphan/ graveyard joke/

“BWAHAHAHA”

To your surprise, the silver-haired director threw his body back, maniacal laughter blasting through the building. He held his belly, kicking his feet like a child. He laughed for two minutes straight, without taking a breather until he finally calmed down, sitting himself up properly and rubbing his eyes with the long sleeves of his coat.

“Wonderful,” he quaked “Consider the payment done. My newest guest just arrived today and I was about to start the autopsy before you came in”

Undertaker hopped down from his coffin and with the movement of his finger, he ordered you silently to follow him down the stairs.

A disgusting smell of blood, disinfectants, and death hung in the cold air and instantly hit your nose. It smelled disgusting and you were glad you skipped breakfast this morning. Satan was less affected, the lucky demon! The reason for the stink was lying on two metal tables each, partly covered by an old linen cloth. Elizabeth Stride and Catherine Eddowes were the recent victims of Jack the Ripper as the silver-haired man informed the two of you.

“I must warn you, this is not for the faint heart” Undertaker warned but nevertheless guided you towards Eddowes, carefully petting her hair peaking out from under the fabric “This one was not as lucky as her friend over there”

“How so?” Satan asked, confused as both women were dead after all.

With a knowing smile, Undertaker pulled away the cloth over Catherine's body, showing you all the gruesome work of her murderer. Thank whatever deity that you skipped the breakfast. The intestines had been stuffed back messily into her body, perhaps for the transportation of the corpse, and her throat had been slashed open. Her eyes were wide open from horror, having faced the killer just upon her death and mutilated nearly into unrecognition.

“The killer slashed both victim's throats first, but this one was mangled much worse,” Undertaker explained, amused by your ever-changing facial reactions to the unsightly sight. “The killer was perhaps disturbed and searched for the next victim, finishing their work on dear Catherine here~ She was found with her intestines hanged over her shoulder, so they could reach for something else” He pointed towards her uterus, or rather where it should have been “My guest isn’t a whole woman anymore to add to the insult of dying in their own puddle of blood. The left kidney is missing as well, a minor detail but might be important as well.”

/This is disgusting af/ you tried to stop breathing the foul odor in, holding a tissue to your nose. How Satan, who was deep in thought, was able to handle it was beyond you. “The kidney taken could mean the killer was involved with organ trafficking but the uterus? Very unusual…” He said it more to himself than anyone. “But the unsub very likely has experience in the medical field. They must be right-handed judging by their slashing movement”

“You refer to the killer as ‘they’, Mr. Undertaker,” you chimed in “The Yard and the public usually address Jack the Ripper with a male pronoun. Do you think the culprit could be a woman?”

The mortician hummed “That is a possibility yes, although they prefer poison, well, judging by my usual patronage.”

“Nevertheless, the unsub most likely has personal feelings towards prostitutes in general. The victims have done something to anger the killer, the uterus and kidney are most likely some sort of trophy, usual for serial killers. As you said, the uterus is exclusively female and the kidney has significance in several cultures. In Egypt, for example, they were left in mummies because they connected the kidney with judgment and moral decisions. In Hebrew, it was understood as the seat of emotion together with the heart and bowl. And during medieval times they were regarded as the seat of our conscience. Fascinating.”

/Satan - Google, who?/

Undertaker regarded the blond with a cheeky smile “You sure are a smart one, Mr. Holmes. Interesting deduction.”

You beamed, proud of your husband. If Undertaker looked closely, he could see the hearts floating above your head.

“We thank you for your time, Mr. Undertaker” You curtsied politely, glad you finally left the mortuary, which bad smell hopefully didn’t stick onto your clothes and hair. “It was my pleasure. I hope you’ll tell me another joke one day.”

Satan deadpanned (He loved you, but those dad jokes…)

“Oh, I have one for free. Wanna hear?”

“What do you call it when an orphan visits a graveyard?”

“Oh, please tell me~”

“A family reunion”

Silence.

/Too offensive?/

A chime of a little bell forced all of your attention to the entrance door. The young boy from the day before stepped inside forcefully, the man dressed in black from head to toe by his side. “Are you here, Undertaker!?”

You were not sure that the funeral director started to roar with laughter just because of your joke.

What an unusual man, that Undertaker.

Sorry for the long wait. Hope you like it.

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xxstraymoonchildxx · 5 months

Text

This Couple is Unusual

Prologue / Next

Chapter 1: This Couple, negotiating

cw: none

As Charles Dickens once put it: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times”.

The both of you sat in a horse carriage, cars being still not too common around that day, and looked outside the busy street.

England in the nineteenth century was a sight to behold. In awe you watched the people walking down the streets, clad in Victorian fashion - the men in suits, top hats (hopefully without mercury), and walking canes; women in long modest dresses with hoop skirts or bustles underneath giving a distinct shape and various little hats on skillfully made hair. You fit in perfectly with the clothes Asmodeus provided you with. Satan was dressed to the nines, the striped pine green waistcoat over the pristine white, high-collared shirt hugged his muscular frame nicely; the dark coat he wore fluttered slightly behind him when he walked (he couldn’t help himself and only wore one sleeve, the other draped over his shoulder casually). The ascot around his neck matched his black pants and shiny dress shoes. You matched him well - the bodice underneath the dress - white with pine green stripes - emphasized your waist but wasn’t too tight; the long-sleeved waistcoat had frills in the front that opened under the bust like a curtain and ended in your back with a large bow. Around your neck was a necklace with a cat pendant Satan gifted you for your last birthday.

All that being said sadly didn't distract you from the fact that it smelled so bad.

Occasionally little boys ran onto the bumpy roads, scooping up what the horses left behind. (You hoped none of those children would get themselves hurt or worse.) Not only that, the industrial smoke carried over from the factories, and people still threw things into the Thames that didn’t belong there (mainly human and industrial waste, and unsurprisingly the occasional corpse)

“I am grateful we didn’t visit London during the summer of 1858,” Satan stated after he saw you wrinkle your nose in displeasure ”I've read about it recently, it was labeled the Great Stink. There were various artists depicting their idea of a shinigami riding along the Thames during that time.”

“Guess it was easier to drop everything into the river. I can’t believe the working class had to bathe in that polluted water, like, eww. Bet Barbatos would've gotten a heart attack from those rats running around if he was with us.”

Satan hummed in response, looking back outside the window.

You passed the central street that had various shops aligned next to each other. Somewhere had to be one of the subsidiaries of the sorcerer's society where you would meet one of your teacher’s acquaintances, Viscount Laurent Cavendish who was responsible for the finances there. He was the son of a vineyard owner who made business with high society and offered wine tastings, perfect for making strong connections.

Satan helped you out of the carriage, the strong grip he had on your waist made your cheeks turn pink. The coachman handed you your luggage and wished you a nice day.

The subsidiary looked like every other building in the business area, disguised as a bank (and also functioning like one for cover). You went inside, walking to the front desk of the entrance hall. An elderly gentleman sat behind the oak table.

“Good afternoon, how may I help you?” he asked politely. You took out the letter from Solomon stored inside your bag, handing it over while introducing Satan and yourself. The man’s eyes widened, looking at the demon in surprise, then back to you. “We need to speak to Viscount Cavendish as soon as possible.” He nodded and made a quick phone call with a hushed voice. Not even a minute later you were escorted to Cavendish’s office.

You expected Laurent Cavendish to be a middle-aged man but you were mildly surprised to have someone sitting in an office chair who can’t be older than thirty. Auburn hair framed his oval in a style that reminded you of Mephistopheles and dark blue eyes looked up from his paperwork to eye you thoroughly. Come to think of it, the way he looks at you, judgingly, reminds you a bit too much of the aristocrat demon. He signed you to take the two seats in front of his desk.

“I’ve never expected this shady man to get himself an apprentice. Say, is his cooking still as horrendous?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Nearly killed me once.”

Cavendish sent you a crooked smile, just for a split second, before leaning back in his armchair, folding his slender hands. Back to business. “So, what brings you here? I assume you aren’t interested in opening a bank account.”

“We are interested in the Whitechapel Murders. We plan on acting as reporters from a foreign country. Unfortunately, we don’t have the proper connections in the Londoner scene,” Satan answered and you continued “But my teacher recommended you, Viscount, saying you’re a powerful man in the Sorcerer’s Society and Londoner Underworld”

You hoped to tickle his ego to the best of your abilities. To drive it home, you opened your suitcase - enchanted so you can put as much as you want in it like in the RPGs Leviathan often plays with you; basically unlimited inventory space - and brought out a gift box, addressed towards the man in front of you and put it on his desk. “We can pay you for your troubles, of course”

Curiously Cavendish opened the present, hummed with a twinkle in his eyes, and closed it again.

“Very well. The murders are all over the newspapers but Scotland Yard is, unsurprisingly, still clueless. Our Society isn’t interested in the case per se, but of course, we are up to date about everything even if we don’t involve ourselves in such … events. The victims are brought to the funeral parlor Undertaker; the owner is involved with the underworld as well and is a reliable informant, despite his unique personality. I’m also acquaintances with one of the Yard’s chief staff, Sir Redcliff. Although I’d advise you strictly to be discrete with any valuable information.”

Satan looked at you and nodded. Cavendish took a sip of his tea after this long monologue. “I’ll provide you with the necessities and wish you all the best. Please wait in the entrance hall. My secretary will bring it to you once I am finished.”

After shaking hands with him, or rather with Satan, you were escorted outside. But not without his calling something out to you right before the door closes:

“Beware the Queens Watchdog, Earl Phantomhive!”

“Well, that went smoothly,” Satan said, guiding you inside the called carriage. The Viscount supplied you with a hotel reservation as well as various objects for bribing purposes - like a bottle of expensive wine for the Yard and credentials. “He must be quiet in debt with Solomon to go for such length. I wonder what was in the present you gave him” You thought about it for a moment “Eh, I guess some rare ingredients or magical items. I didn’t look inside.” The blond demon let out a laugh “I am surprised, by how noisy you usually are”

“Hey!”

Half an hour later, you arrived at the hotel. It was nothing too fancy from the outside, a two-star equivalent from your own time maybe? You stood before the entrance door when you suddenly heard a gentle meowing noise.

Satan was quick as always, crouching down to pet the little creature in front of him “Are you all alone?” he cooed, petting the few-month-old kitten. In the blink of an eye, not two, but three and four emerged around the corner. You watched it with a grin.

//What magnificent creatures. What an adorable little family~// Blushing, he played with the litter of cats. He didn’t hear the sound of protest from around the corner.

It wasn’t until another set of hands appeared in his line of sight. He looked up, staring into a pair of reddish-brown eyes.

Bonus:

Earlier that day: Y/N: Okay, we should change into more time period-appropriate clothes *takes off top* Satan: HOLD U-!

__________________________________________________

Finally done it. Had like no time to write last week thanks to being short-staffed.I might edit something in case I notice spelling mistakes. I usually use Grammarly but it doesn't catch everything.

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