#OHOHOHOHOOOOOO my heart is full to bursting thank u <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

oooooft i so rarely request angsty things bc it hurts my feelings too much but those prompts are just so good. could you please do "there's something you need to know" and "i need you here, with me" (or "you won't go with me?" whichever you think fits better) for undertaker? its really great to see you active again i hope you're doing well 💜

𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭  \  sentence starter pack,  i.

i need you here, with me.

you won’t go with me?

there’s something you need to know.

why not all three for extra angst?? :D

also dang u tryna kill me!!!

I’m doing pretty good, I hope you are too! <3

It’s strange that your lover wants you to meet him at a hospital.

Karnstein is one of the frequent customers for his mortuary, something he admits himself. UNDERTAKER isn’t anywhere around when you first arrive, either; you’re escorted up the stairs by a young man who introduces himself as Dr. Stoker. He assures you that your beau is waiting for you in the room he shows you to, and that he’s got exciting news.

You don’t have the faintest clue what that news might be. And why bring you to the hospital to talk about it?

But then Undertaker greets you with a kiss and whispers in your ear, “There’s somethin’ y’ need t’ know,” and your attention is paid in full to him.

He takes you from room to room on the top floor, showing off the ‘projects’ he’s been working on. The reasons he’s been away so often lately. Of course, he make sure to mention that credit is also due to others like Dr. Stoker. Without their help, he could never have gotten this far.

… Far enough to be raising the dead. Each room contains what he refers to as Bizarre Dolls, people he’s trying to revive ― most of them having been dead for a while. They’re in varying stages of resurrection, many of them being tended to by Karnstein’s doctors and nurses. The corpses’ eyes are covered without exception, and the medical staff are monitoring them with regular blood transfusions.

As he leads you through the halls, you don’t know what to think or how to feel. Much as you still love him, (you can’t stop loving him), you’re not sure how you can be alright with any of this.

So you’re not certain how to respond when he sweeps you round the floor at the end of the hall, with his arms around you. Dr Stoker wasn’t exaggerating in that Undertaker is full of anticipation for his work, and when he stops humming in order to speak, it becomes clear what news he wanted to share with you.

“Things are finally comin’ t’gether. It’s taken so long, but… our big event is only a few weeks away now.” He twirls you like there’s music playing. Maybe there is, in his head. It seems as though some tune or another is always playing for him. “’ave you ‘eard about the luxury liners? There’s one settin’ sail, an’ I’ll be on it with my associates. As well as a w’ole mess of my darlin’ little dolls.”

To you, that sounds terrifying. But he’s ecstatic… this is something he’s been working toward, looking forward to. It’s one of the culminations of the last how many years he’s been clawing death’s cold grasp away from those who have already succumbed to it.

You don’t know what to say. It’s like his life’s dream is something which horrifies you.

A kiss is pressed to your cheek, and despite your fear, you accept it simply because it comes from him. It’s impossible for you to not love him even now. How do you just stop loving someone because you don’t agree with something they’re doing? “An’ wouldn’t it be romantic?” he chuckles. Another kiss. Another. It’s as if he thinks this is going to be the beginning of the rest of your lives. Like there’s something to celebrate. “I was thinkin’ we could…”

He draws back abruptly. Reflected in his eyes is the anxiety in your own, the chartreuse a mirror bouncing your own emotion back at you. A quiet sigh rolls off his lips. His eyes shift, disappointment palpable in between the green glimmers. “… Y’ won’t go with me?”

He shakes his head; the gesture is almost as if he rather expected your reaction. His hands drift down your body to gently clasp around yours, nails brushing against your skin. “Ah, God, darlin’. Please. I need y’ ‘ere, with me.”

“I’ll be here with you when you get back,” you say softly. No matter what else is going on, he’s still the man you love. Even if he’s doing some incredibly frightening things. “I’ll wait for you. You can come back into my open arms. I’m not going to go anywhere.”

Your hand squeezes his, and you ghost a kiss over his cheek. “But… I don’t think I want to be a part of this, no.”

“Mh.” He catches your lips with his own, pulling you as close to him as is physically possible for two people. “Guess that’s better than anythin’ else y’ coulda said, ain’t it? Goin’ off on a cruise with me is a bit much t’ ask in less than a month’s time,” he teases.

His other hand snakes around your waist, pressing into your back. You think that as much as he wishes you would come, more than anything he just wants reassurance that you aren’t going to run away. “Promise y’ won’t miss me too much, then?”

You go in for another kiss, one that steals every single bit of your breath. “I always miss you.”

“― But y’ll wait f’r me.” His lips curve into a smile against yours. “My. Ain’t I lucky?”