.Aesthetics and Pretty Things.

Resource hub and general writing blog for the character "Undertaker" from the series Kuroshitsuji.

[silvcrreaper]

Hello and welcome to this blog! This used to be a roleplaying blog, but since moving the character to a new one, I’ve decided to convert this into a resource / aesthetic / theories / writing request hub. My name is Tick! I am 21+, they/them, and GMT -5 ( USA EST ).

Things to note:

❀ / While you are more than welcomed to send in asks and questions, please respect the individual behind the blog and their own opinions. Do not attack or send in hate to this blog. Failure to comply to this rule will result in a block and the removal of the anonymous feature. 

❀ / Anything on this blog is credited to the original creator ( outside of my own writing, which will be tagged with ;; writing ). I do not own anything outside of the aforementioned writing appropriately tagged.

❀ / I do accept writing requests, but I do not write in second person nor do I do the, for example, “Undertaker x You” reader type styles of writing.  I do reserve the right to not write the request if I feel uncomfortable by it.

❀ / All ships are welcomed here and appropriately tagged, but do not start character hate or ship hate in the inbox. I will close the inbox if this continues.

[qvotable]

You’re not in love with me, not really, you just love the way I always made you feel. Like you were the center of my world. Because you were. I would have done anything for you.

Abby McDonald (via qvotable)

[qvotable]

There are different ways of loving, aren’t there?

Patrick White // The Vivisector (via qvotable)

[the-book-diaries]

How strange it is. We have these deep terrible lingering fears about ourselves and the people we love. Yet we walk around, talk to people, eat and drink. We manage to function. The feelings are deep and real. Shouldn’t they paralyze us? How is it we can survive them, at least for a little while? We drive a car, we teach a class. How is it no one sees how deeply afraid we were, last night, this morning? Is it something we all hide from each other, by mutual consent? Or do we share the same secret without knowing it? Wear the same disguise?

Don DeLillo, White Noise (via the-book-diaries)

[firstfullmoon]

Sometimes you don’t die

when you’re supposed to

& now I have a choice

repair a world or build

a new one inside my body

— Cameron Awkward-Rich, from “Cento Between the Ending and the End”

[kuro-shit-i-guess-deactivated20]

[silvcrreaper]

ominasapphirus​:

The young remained paused as the other’s firm hand rested momentarily atop his soft head. He shook his head in response as Undertaker removed his hand and they continued their walk. “I won’t know what I will need until I see what is on the desk. I just hope it isn’t much today. I haven’t all the energy for it.” Such an endearing tone of voice was needed for a boy his age. Especially after being reborn into a new world where he no longer had a family. The manor was cold with the echoes of what once was and what one would never get back. To have someone who could understand him was all he could ask for after returning from the abyss. He wasn’t quite ready to fully step into his role.

Once they had reached their intended room, Ciel made his way to the desk and took his place in his leather chair. What he saw didn’t ease him any less. The piles of records he had to sort, tax ledgers, land development. It was all too much and he still wondered how his brother handled all of this with that ridiculous toy company of his. It couldn’t be that popular, could it?

Ciel heaved an agitated sigh but nodded at the mortician’s offer. “Please. It seems Tanaka has left me with another late evening’s work to complete. It seems I’ll be up late again.”

Undertaker took a moment to note the piles of paper, and after a brief word with the butler, stepped back into the room to study them. “Some of these you’ve already looked over.” He commented, leaning in closer to look over a few of them, “See? There’s your signature, not your brother’s.” Some of this felt like it was busy work, honestly…

… Or a distraction?

He didn’t entirely trust the butler, if he were an honest sort. Which he was, but he also knew better than to start fussing about the staff. They were short enough as it were.

The mortician hrm’d softly to himself, beginning to sort the piles into thirds. One that had already been looked over and signed off on, one pending signatures and the final being things that Ciel had to still look over and sign off on. Which eventually left them with a relatively higher stack on the completed side and two medium sized piles. “How much do you think you can handle, t’day?” Undertaker asked, shuffling the papers that had already been looked over and signed off. “If need be, just focus on the ones that need signin’ off of. Those’re easier t’deal with, in my experience.”

[silvcrreaper]

ominasapphirus​:

Allowing himself one last chuckle over the thought of his younger brother, Ciel turned on his heel and began walking towards his bedroom door. His charmed smirk vanished soon after. Gaining control of his “emotions” was a twisted mess as he ran through multiple thoughts in his head causing him both anxiety and grief. Being able to hide that was a feat he tended to argue himself with at times. The head of a household must be able to face any obstacle without hesitation. He had to follow the steps of his predecessor if he was to achieve that. Ciel wondered if his father ever had to face such a situation like this before? How was he to know what to do when he was never fully trained after “that day”?

The Young Lord absently nodded as the Undertaker’s words floated over his head as they ambled towards the study down the deserted hall. Slate charcoal hair fell over the boy’s eyes as he had silently fallen a step behind the mortician before reaching his delicate hand out and gently clutching onto the back of the reaper’s robe. The teenager had no reason in doing this. Did he? Did he truly not want to be alone? That must be it.

Ciel lifted his head when the other poked at him for mere entertainment. “No.” A solid but soft response yet he couldn’t meet the other’s face. Shaking his head he released Undertaker’s clothing. He had to brush of the feeling. This should not be like him. “No. I don’t trust you to wander around on your own.” This was a lie as he knew there was nothing this man could or would do to the estate on his own. Being acquainted with the family, he had no reason to, but Ciel had to have a reason that wasn’t proving his vulnerability. “You can gather updates later. I may need help depending on how much work is left for me today.”

He tilted his head back, having noted the young Earl had fallen behind, pausing only a moment when he heard Ciel’s words. A smile crept forward, as his hand came up to gently rest on the young man’s head. “Very well. Was there anything in particular you needed help with?” He asked in a gentle tone.

Still yet so afraid to take the bold steps forward on his own.

Undertaker didn’t blame him. It was still a very, scary world out there.

Even in the hallows sanctity of the Phantomhive manor.

His hand lifted from blue locks as Ciel let go, nodding all the same.

“In that case with reaching out, I’ll do it later. It’s not that big of an issue that requires immediate attention.” A glance to the study, casually opening the door and stepping through after Ciel had passed by him, “Would you want me to send for Tanaka with tea?”

[silvcrreaper]

“ Be gone, ye demons from Hell! Back to the void from whence you came! ” - glacies ( this one too bc it makes me chuckle )

LOUD CACKLING!

“Y-Y’should’ve seen your face!!!!” He’s not sorry in the slightest.

[silvcrreaper]

“ We must abide by their rules! We are amongst the living. ” - glacies

“We’re among th’livin’ every day. How’s this any different?” He’s going to do what he wants, you can’t stop him, Glacies! 

[silvcrreaper]

ominasapphirus​:

Fluorescent optics gazed into two vast cyanic hues. There was little life behind them. They could be expressive, but beyond that they were soulless. Much the opposite of his twin. If his expression were similar to anyone it would be the reaper towering over him. The only one who could truly understand the suffering he had been through. Yet all that subsided once the boy was jeered with a tactless question. Of course he did not wish to be “hobbling” around the manor. “Of course not. Don’t be daft,” he muttered.

With defeat being displayed, Ciel raised his arms as the device was placed on him. Patient as he had been he couldn’t disguise his disgruntled sounds of detestation as he was hooked into the medical piece. The adolescent couldn’t help himself but to protest in a language that he wasn’t all too certain the other entirely understood. “Comment je déteste cette fichue chose. C'est une douleur si sanglante.” He himself had studied endlessly to be bilingual at the very least when he was younger, thus French being the only language he could speak outside of his native.

He turned to face the other after he was settled in. What a sight it must have been to behold anytime he had to wear the thing. Attempts were made to cast the thoughts of it aside as he was informed on his brother’s most recent mischief. “Is that so,” he began, a playful grin upturning the corners of his plump lips. “He may have won the first round with the Heathfield mansion, but let us see how he fairs with the sanatorium. I don’t believe it will be as simple as he thinks. Isn’t this marvelous? Our first sibling fight and he’s trying so very hard.” The Phantomhive delighted in this so much that he nearly all forgot the rest of the mortician’s words. While he was indeed vexed at the entirety of the situation, he couldn’t hold himself from laughing at how pitiful his brother had become.

One factory destroyed shouldn’t hinder him much and so he had no need to worry much over it. “Yes… Keep Vega and Canopus on their respective sites. They shall be our eyes. As for Polaris,” he paused, catching his thoughts before continuing, “I wish to keep Polaris here. He does not seem to be very reliable for the time being. I understand his concerns, but I can’t risk him losing control outside these walls.” He nodded to himself as the statement sat with him. This would be good for the moment. “Is there anything else to report? Or am I to head to the study alone?”

Notes were made and he would send the messages anon. Undertaker grinned at the lad, knowing that Ciel was very much not in the mood to be fussed over any longer. He seemed anxious to be on his own for the time being, though the shinigami could hardly understand why.

The lad was hardly, if ever, left alone.

“I’ll ensure Polaris remains on patrol within the manor, then.” He said finally, thinking. “I was thinking about checking in with an associate of mine later this afternoon, but if you need me to stay here for the time being; I don’t mind.” It wasn’t like Undertaker was in any dire need for updates – nothing had changed.

The game was still in play.

Undertaker clicked his tongue, “Don’t trust me to wander about the manor on my lonesome?” Cheeky, as ever.

[silvcrreaper]

Kink: We all know about the church. But what about the embalming room? The reposing room? ...A coffin?

Send my muse a 🕯KINK⛓ and they’ll rate it!

scale: not today satan | fuck no | no thanks | eeeh | not sure | I’d give it a shot | sure why not | omfg yes | there go my pants | holy fuck take me now

“I mean it’s always somethin’ that people get curious about; though a romp in th’coffin’s not entirely th’comfiest. Some o’my lovers like it for th’novelty, but it’s not my favourite.” Undertaker thought on the other two, “Th’embalmin’ room’s not th’best place either, ‘cause y’got all those chemicals, an’ th’dead kinda put it all off for me. Though th’reposin’ room...” He shrugged, “Won’t really mind, though preferably not with th’dead in there.”

[sanellydicarmens-deactivated202]

Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles.

[silvcrreaper]

chainedfate​:

Alone,   he   is   overwhelmed   by   the   thoughts   in   his   head,   but   he   almost   wants   to   return   to   Undertaker   in   that   manner.   Washing   his   hands,   there’s   still   a   knot   in   his   stomach   as   if   using   the   restroom   did   absolutely   nothing   for   it.   With   the   grumbling   that   followed   suit,   it   was   just   as   though   it   was   in   rhythm   with   his   unwinding   emotions.   His   belly   was   always   pretty   sensitive   -   one   wrong   move   could   upset   it   entirely.   Without   fail,   it   responded   to   his   emotions.   His   body   was   very   perceptive   in   picking   up   when   the   stress   of   his   emotions   was   becoming   far   too   much   to   manage.   With   a   deep   breath,   he   turns   to   leave.   When   he   returns,   he’s   paler   than   before   and   he’s   so   very   tired.   The   knot   in   his   core   twisted   upon   catching   unwanted   eye   contact   with   the   mortician,   gaze   dropping   to   the   table   between   them.

“I   …”      He   tries   to   speak,   but   he’s   lost   mid-reply,   his   digits   gripping   on   to   his   trousers.   “   …   It’s   …   h,”   A   breath.   “I   do   want   my   revenge.   But   I’m   worn   out.   I’ve   never   craved   for   a   deep,   long   sleep   like   I   am   now   ever   before   in   my   life.   I   want   …   I   want   to   take   a   break.   With   everything   that’s   been   happening,   I   don’t   understand   how   anyone   could   return   to   work   in   a   rational   state.   I,   for   one,   can’t   …   I   can’t.   I   am   exhausted.   My   belly   is   upset.   I   just   want   to   rest   but   it   goes   on   and   on   and   there   is   no   escape.   It   is   not   a   matter   of   my   desire,   it   is   my   stamina.   I   can   only   take   on   so   much   before   I,   well   …”   Collapse,   crumble,   decay.   Stress   did   not   mix   well   with   his   person.   Hands   go   to   cup   his   cheeks,   hiding   his   face   from   view.   “Grand   designs?   I   don’t   have   any.   I’ve   barely   the   energy   to   sit   here   now   without   completely   losing   my   mind.”   Little   hands   shake   against   his   face.   It’s   so   strange   how   one   so   cold   and   emotionless   could   change   so   drastically   over   time.   He   doesn’t   want   to   control   it   anymore.  

“Then stop trying to control it all.” He replied simply. “You’ve reached your limit, though I’ve had no small part in that.” It was a simple truth – Undertaker had worn the lad rough and thin with his machinations, and though the contract still remained… it didn’t mean that it hadn’t been strained with the lack of the soul that Sebastian had originally devoured.

A shift in his seat, almost wanting to stand up. To walk around the furniture and put his hands on the lad’s shoulder. Comfort the quaking Phantomhive much like he did with the boy’s predecessors before him. Yet, for all of his desire to comfort him, he was not a fool to believe the lad would welcome such a thing.

The shinigami’s head tilted to the side, “For all your strengths, you are still blessingly human, m’lord. There is no shame in wanting to step back and let go.” Let it go…

                Let it all, go.

Undertaker smiled a bit, “You have to admit, it’s all a bit much, even if you exclude my involvements.”

[silvcrreaper]

Over/stimulation ✧ org/asm control

Send my muse a 🕯KINK⛓ and they’ll rate it!

scale: not today satan | fuck no | no thanks | eeeh | not sure | I’d give it a shot | sure why not | omfg yes | there go my pants | holy fuck take me now

“... Go on?”

[silvcrreaper]

vilasororia​:

SHE MOVES WITH CALCULATED SWIFTNESS. Efficient, caring. Bryony Thal. Ivy – a gravestone with stone-carved ivy entwined around it, much like the name it bears. Holly. Cedar. Flores.  She does not linger, but she wonders if this is all there is left of human warmth. She has not been to this place, not once, until now. Despite the brightness that overflows, spills on Persian green, from skylark blue, despite the touch of the living -

                Her head is raised momentarily:

         and despite, and despite, and – despite.

“It’s quiet. Is the quiet always this lonely?”

She turns at the sigh, a hand reaching for her brooch. Had the Major – no. Alive. He must be. He has to be. “Even if their end is painful they want to live a little longer, but they seem so sure they will live past it.”

Peace. She stoops, almost wondering if daisies would be inappropriate. People seem so particular about it. Peace. Has she ever known that state of mind? No – not much could be expected from a girl who had not known the meaning of ‘beautiful’.  

“… what does peace feel like?”

What did peace feel like?

Hmm...

The mortician tilted his head to and fro as he thought on an answer that was best suited for her. “Peace is when you don’t wake up in th’middle o’th’night sweatin’.” He said finally, fingers resuming the tucking of flowers ‘gainst the ground. “It’s when you can look forward t’th’next day an’ know it’s going t’be better than the last.”

A fond smile, at her former question. “The quiet’s only lonely if you think it is. Personally, for me, it’s like I’m with old friends again.” Quiet and peaceful - two things that Undertaker cherished greatly within the graveyard. His own form of sanctuary. Of safety. 

“If’n y’ask me, I like t’think peace is different for everyone. For you, it might be in a grassy field, or on th’road travellin’. For me, it’s havin’ a nice cup o’tea before bed; knowin’ ‘ve done my best t’make this world a lil’ brighter.”

[silvcrreaper]

Kink: being ordered to fuck or be fucked by your partner's friends. If you (Undertaker) are being fucked, your partner is bossing their friend around and telling them how you like being fucked (even if that goes into intimate detail). If you (Undertaker) are fucking the friend, your partner is bossing you around and correcting your mistakes. (Is there a name for this kink?)

Send my muse a 🕯KINK⛓ and they’ll rate it!

scale: not today satan | fuck no | no thanks | eeeh | not sure | I’d give it a shot | sure why not | omfg yes | there go my pants | holy fuck take me now

“Never happening.”

|| I think it falls under a sort of superior / cucking kink, but UT isn’t into that sorta thing ngl.