Black Butler Reapers Novels & Stories

Abu was one of the great grim reapers, in fact the head if the grim reaper's empire, who collects the souls of the deaths, a male who has long white hair, full white eyes that you couldn’t even tell where he was staring at; he always wore a bright large black cloak, has a long scythe with blue flames around it, and most of all a huge black yet stunning wings, sometimes you found it creepy but his wings were unique compared to what we commonly imagine, it’s maybe dark and scary but some of them found it beautiful, lastly, there were always some black butterflies flying around him, they were the souls who were punished because of their sin that cannot be forgiven, and as punishment, they were

“Is he static, too?” For the first time, a flicker of something other than sorrow crossed Lachesis’s face. It was a weary, ancient pity. “You misunderstand the Reaper’s purpose, Prince of Hell. The Raven Reapers are not vultures drawn to carrion. They are a function, as old as we are. They are the enforcement arm of destiny.”

Muscular and resolute, Liana’s steely gaze hinted at the countless battles she had endured, and her presence exuded an aura of raw, unbridled power. Next to Liana stood Rowan Blackthorn, a silent yet menacing figure known as the Shadow Reaper. His dark armor seemed to blend into the shadows, his movements quiet but deadly. Rowan was an assassin by trade, his abilities in stealth and precision killing unmatched in all of Somerland. He held a scythe in his hands that sent shivers to whomever looked at it.

I have so many unanswered questions about this mysterious assassin. I spent the next week preparing for the formal event while also gathering what I could about assassins that were known. None of the information told me anything. I got a few well-known female assassin names. The number one was Phantom Reaper, second was Blade of Bracken (named after this city, Bracken’s Rock), and third was simply Death. Not very original, that one. By evening, it’s time for me to attend this despicable gala to network and attempt to secure funding for my next research project. I dress sharply in a black tuxedo, my white dress shirt is crisp, and I wear a neatly knotted black tie. My hair is usually always a

What they face was not the weak and helpless ant-like cultivator as they had expected but the wrath of the grim reaper in a black butler tuxedo wielding a rapier. “Sir, I’m afraid you’re in the wrong and at the wrong time. Might I suggest you evacuate out of here at once? Otherwise, I’ll need to forcefully remove you from this world.” The butler in the black tuxedo said toward the invaders in a British accent. The invaders look at each other before some of them rush at the Butler and get turned into thousands of slices of meat cubes as they fall to the ground that was littered with their blood, innards, and organs.

I furrowed my brow and shook my head. "No, Nekane. I'm the Reaper Queen and a Death Goddess. I will not run and hide, I will fight and destroy my enemy," I decreed as I called my scythe and felt the black smoke roll across my flesh making a black cloak. I was a kick ass female reaper and Nekane nodded his head doing what I'd done. We were awesome together and I held his hand as we vanished to reap his brother.

Cupid answered him back. “Why you–––“ Atlas started but Cupid shut him up. “Bingo! Alright, Bacchus, Pegasus, you can go in now.” Cupid said on the intercom. “Now we just have to wait until they kill that Black Dragon.” He said to Atlas. “Do you think they can? I mean, that’s Black Dragon. He killed almost half of our members.” Atlas said sitting up. “I actually don’t know. But boss ordered us to do this.” Cupid answered.

Her eyes gleamed. “They’re Verek's direct lapdogs. Killers. They’ve slaughtered more people than most ordinary dare to count… Alphas included.” She leaned back slightly in her seat, completely at ease. “They’re rogues.” A sharp wave of gasps rippled through the crowd. Eyes darted toward George and the twins, disbelief written plainly across their faces. But Verya wasn’t done. “Not just rogues,” she added lightly. The air seemed to tighten. “They are the Four Reapers.”

Grip warned. He was on his reaper mode wearing his black cloak embroidered with gold. He was holding his scythe and his aura reeked of death. I’ve never met a reaper as powerful as him. The reapers I come across with usually had no aura making them conceal their identities as reapers. “I was right! Meeting you in the hallway that day confirmed my thought. You’re no human.” Victoria went out of the camera head first. She reached the floor crawling in my direction. Her blood trailed broken lines on the tiled floor.

“I only knew it never died on me when I opened my eyes in the dream realm.” He nodded once, the movement slow and deliberate, like a verdict forming in the quiet. “Then prove it belongs where you say it does.” And without warning, the first Reaper struck. His weapon wasn’t forged—it was summoned, pulled from the void like judgment shaped into form. A black blade, jagged and humming with curses older than memory, appeared in his hand, and he came for me—not to kill, but to test, to see if I was what I claimed to be.