ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
[A/N: I normally don’t write Author notes… Anyway, I’d just like to mention that I’ve been reading ‘The Book Thief’ and been extremely enjoying it. Because of it, I decided to write this Reader-Insert in the same style as ‘The Book Thief.’ Please don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not trying to plagiarise their work or anything like that, I merely thought that I’d write this in a similar style. The plot, characters and stories are completely different. Enjoy!]
Disclaimer: As usual, I don’t own Kuroshitsuji… Shame, I know. I don’t own you either, just in case you didn’t know that…
Hello, I’m… Well, I don’t really have an actual name anymore. I did, but I forgot it long ago. If you’d like, you can call me Sophie. That’s a name I rather like name, though others call me Death, Shinigami, The Origin.
I guess this is the part of the story that I’m supposed to tell you about myself.
Personally, I don’t see the point, since I am merely the observer, narrator, if you will. But, my mere existence tends to leave people with questions. And also, humans tend to get also defensive when death is mentioned.
My name may change over the centuries, but one fact will not. Nothing will last forever. I remember what has happened, see is happening now, and I dream of a future that no one else should see.
My official name is Death, nice to meet you.
Well, perhaps the pleasure is mine, not yours. After all, if you were to actually meet me, you wouldn’t live to tell the tale.
Actually, technically I’m lying.
I’ll say no more, lest I give the story away.
…
The sky was a musty grey, the word seemingly quiet, business relatively slow. But amongst it all, I found one event particularly interesting.
Flames rose to meet the dull sky, smoke covering all in site. Inside, two people lay still, not moving; breathing no more.
An interesting fact about those two people:
They were nobles, one man and one woman,
a married couple, Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive.
I wrote in my little notebook their names, taking a quick look at their past. I decided where they went, and so on and so forth.
It was the inevitable end. However, a child had escaped me. A runner, a survivor, someone with a will stronger than death itself.
Another interesting Fact:
Everyone who dies in front of my eyes
have their names written into my notebook.
Consider it my own little way of remembering people.
…
Rain thudded against the ground, the sound of horses’ hooves hitting the filled my ears. Those horses pulled a carriage, one person being inside.
Though I know your name, I also hope that you know your own name as well. Because of that, I’ll refer to you as ‘you.’ Sat, twiddling your thumbs, as you sighed at the terrible weather.
Another bored human.
But as the floor of the carriage shook, and horses whined, I readied myself.
Someone was about to die.
I remember the look of the sky on that day. It was a sullied grey, mixed in with deeper, more solemn shades.
The carriage then collapses, and the carriage driver falls, his head hitting the ground hard. You scream, and see something rather special.
A bullet in his cranium. Or head, if you don’t like the use of scientific words. It’s just that the future tempts me to do so.
“What happened? Oi, why aren’t you…”
You say no more, as another gunshot goes off, and you run back into the fallen carriage.
Another interesting fact:
Though it may seem weird,
I was the one who first decided to make
a humans life shown through a record.
Like a movie.
If the world was a musical, the ‘survivors’ would be the ones who refuse to sing and dance. I come across only a handful of them a century. Dodge me once, and you’re quite amazing. Dodge me twice and you’ve earned my respect.
You were quite amazing. Bullets flew through the wood of the carriage, and with no sign of life left, I stroll in, ready to take yet another mortal life.
But, despite the lack of life within the carriage, you open the door, holding your hand to your shoulder, not dead.
Quite lively actually, considering the circumstances.
I’d describe your hair and eyes and so forth, but…
Well, there are several reasons.
Three small reasons:
1. It is highly difficult for me to distinguish human people based
on anything other than their souls.
2. My sense of colour changes frequently. Just as the sky
can look green to me, your eyes and hair can look neon yellow.
3. I expect you to know what you look like, which would take away the meaning
of me describing you.
So instead of going into all of that information, I’ll skip it, stating something more important.
Your soul. A small, fragile thing, from the looks of it, it had a weird reverberating effect. A fighter. A survivor.
By this point, I took several steps back, allowing anything to happen. After all, I am merely the observer. I do not interfere.
As the rain thuds down on all in sight, a man with long hair and a hat comes across, hauling your limp body over his shoulder.
But this is no ordinary man. Because this person is…
One of my children.
A quick statement:
All Grim Reapers are my children, since I am ‘The Origin.’
***
Years passed, and here were are now.
It actually depends where you are. For all I know, you could be a million years behind be, or 400 head of me. That goes for me to.
But as the carriage wheels turn, the sky turns a turquoise colour, the events play in my head as the present.
A good day. Of course, by that I mean, a good day for Grim Reapers.
However, in some sentimental human’s terms, it’s ‘the start of an era.’
Because just down the street, was yet another ‘survivor,’ Earl Ciel Phantomhive, a rather meddlesome person stood next to him.
A Demon.
Though, don’t get me wrong, I have no qualms with most demons, there only being one Demon that I loathe. However, they do tend to meddle a little too much in human affairs for my liking.
But, they’re the ignition to a new explosion of experiences for you.
An explosion… That’d be an understatement.
Woops, perhaps I said too much… I mustn’t give the story away too quickly.
Literature
SebastianxReader-Fear not, Help will Surely Come
Being the last member of your family was harder to face then you'd ever imagine. You heard of many other girls and boys your age loosing families in fires or accidents, but never the way you experienced.
Having to come home from boarding school to greet them...lying in pools of their own blood. It was sickening, and cruel, whoever had done this deed while you were away. They most likely would have done the same to you...it was then you felt glad about being sent away. However, you were now alone. No other family close to London would take care of you-even if they could, they were too busy doing tasks or being rich. Of course, not everything
Literature
My Crow (Sebastian X Reader) part 4
Authors note:
Please read this Authors note before you start reading this chapter. Thank you and God bless.
Chapter 4
“Good job everyone!” Sebastian said to all off the servants “Now all we have to do is prepare for the arrival of all the guest” he continued
“You may all go back to your positions” he commanded, Everyone shouted a big “YES SIR!” then went to their positions
“(Y/N)" Sebastian called, You turned around and answer “Yes?”
Sebastian went to your side and said “You may go back now, Mother said she wanted you to be dismissed early”
You hold out a
Literature
Secrets in Ivory (SebastianxReader)
Secrets in Ivory
SebastianxReader
Request for Red-Alchemist
The piano.
You weren’t very talented at playing it but you certainly did your best. It was the last thing your father taught you before he passed away, leaving you alone in a mansion suitable for a large family.
You practiced everyday, especially when you felt depressed over your loss. It was soothing, therapeutic. The servants and maids went about their daily business of cleaning and cooking while your butler oversaw that they didn’t enter the piano room while you were playing.
The grand piano made of polished, dark wood was your only friend. It whispered secrets
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
You will be amazed at how happy I was when I learned how to center text. Oh my, I think I might cry. It's just that emotional. This is my second ever reader insert, and I seriously hope you like it. ^_^
( I renamed the fic, since the previous name was too long ^_^")
© 2014 - 2024 Cookie-Fairy-Narnia
Comments16
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
Nice Book Thief style there.