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abybweisse · 1 year

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Does "136649" represent a lifespan?

Seeing random posts on my dash today (now yesterday) about Japanese authors using the pronunciation of numbers to be a joke or to hold hidden meanings.

Friendly reminder that there is a lot of that in the Black Butler series, including the extra artwork Yana-san has produced over the years.

One possible example can be found in Undertaker's registration number: 136649. It's been discussed before, but people mostly dropped the subject after realizing it's not easy to interpret as a pun. And I started to think he was the 49th reaper registered in 1366. Could still be true, since that would be 500 years before Cloudia/Claudia dies, it would make him a very old reaper, and shi and ku (4 and 9) sounds like "death and agony".

But I've decided to go back to the numbers. And the sounds for them.

That's ichi-san-roku-roku-shi-ku. And I chose shi and ku specifically because of how they sound. (Though kyuu/kyu was surprisingly interesting.) Setting kanji aside, the way these words sound, they can be given different interpretations. Kind of like Sebastian's pun about being simply one hell of a butler.

Ichi means "one", but going purely by sound, it can also be interpreted as: best, first, or beginning. X

San means "three", but going purely by sound, it can also be interpreted as... yeah, idk 🤷🏻‍♀️, other than an honorific for Mr/Mrs/Miss... but I'll come back to this in a moment....

Roku means "six", but going purely by sound, it can also be interpreted as: stipend, reward, worthy, toil/hardship, and the aging body/suffering of old age. X

Shi means "four", but some people prefer to say yon, because shi also sounds like "death".

Similarly, ku sounds like the word for "agony", so some people prefer to say kyuu. But Kyuu/kyu can mean things like coffin or casket. X

That gives an incomplete picture of: beginning, an honorific or 3, rewards and hardship, then death and burial. Then I recalled that the pun Sebastian likes to use has multiple meanings, depending on how you group the sounds.

So, let's regroup it as: ichi-sanro-kuro-ku-shi-kyuu

We still have ichi meaning beginning or start, but we could also say birth.

Then we have sanro, a Buddhist concept about what feeds mortality and transmigration: desire, existence, and ignorance. X. Might be synonymous with the Buddhist concept of dukka. Never being satisfied with what you have, basically. Hardship, pain, disappointment, and regret. An inability to escape from it all, too... as long as you live... or remain in the birth-life-death cycle, which is referenced by transmigration.

Then kuro, which is often used to mean "black", just like in Kuroshitsuji. But it can also sound like the words for hardship, toil, anxiety/worries, and fatigue. It's very similar to the meanings given above for roku. X

Then ku for agony...

Then shi for death...

And kyuu (instead of ku) for the coffin or casket for burial, for the grave.

Now, we have a complete picture from cradle to grave, with a decidedly pessimistic viewpoint. You are born, life is hard and full of disappointment and pain, you suffer and get worn down (injury, illness, and old age), then you die in agony and get buried.

His registration number might have meant something special to him because it represented existential crisis, based purely on how it sounds. And something starts a human life, but he ends it. Othello might have given us a slight clue by calling 136649 the epitome of a reaper. Perhaps he saw himself as someone who provided relief by ending all those burdensome lives.

It would also be a slight nod to the three fates, who weave/spin, measure, and cut the thread of each life... where 136649 performs the role of Atropos.

Think I might be onto something here??

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lord-pineapple-doodles · 1 year

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Idk if anyone knows, but I'm also a crochet artist, and I recently finished my Bunny Taker project! He's my pride and joy! Please give him some loving 😁💚💜💚

#undertaker black butler #undertaker kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji #black butler #136649 #yana toboso #Bunny Taker #crocheting #crochet #crochet art #handmade #lordpineappledoodles #grim reaper #shinigami #lil guy

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tiffany-s-boudoir · 2 years

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#136649 Shinigami Dispatch Society Mood Boards

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #undertaker #undertaker kuroshitsuji #undertaker black butler #shinigami #grim reapers #shinigami dispatch society #reaper #kuroshitsuji fanart #black butler fanart #moodboard #136649 #silver fox

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eemoo1o-animoo · 1 year

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Do we know the other reapers’ numbers yet

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todaysreapers · 11 months

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2023/06/07

Today, 136649 and Othello had their first solo missions as new reapers. 136649 wondered if his mousey little former classmate would survive.

#undertaker #undertaker black butler #othello #othello black butler #kuroshitsuji #black butler #shinigami dispatch #todaysreapers

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triptych-of-voids · 9 months

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Sorry. Last one if you’re still accepting ‘putting UT/#136649 in situations’

#136649 holding or playing with a baby/child. I’ve always thought that, even as an active duty reaper, he’d have a soft spot for kids<33

ough.. im not going to draw this request just because youre probably expecting something wholesome and the only thing i can think up for this prompt is something tragic,, very sorry x']

i do think he has a soft spot for kids though, i think he treats them with respect and is very good with kids (it probably helps that hes more than willing to sneak them candy or treats just for fun too). however in a strange contradiction to this i dont think hes ever understood why so many people find newborn infants to be so cute, theyre a little offputting to him. and god forbid anyone asks him to hold a baby, its not that he dislikes them but hed be so so so so scared of accidentally hurting them somehow so hed just prefer not to. other than that tho he would be so good with kids and would love playing with them and making them laugh if he could :]€

#thinking about the survival rates of newbord children in the victorian era..#thinking about how many times a reaper would have to reap the soul of a dying infant #and be indifferent and uncaring in doing so #neway ^^; thats all i could think of so.#sorry for not drawing this req i just couldnt think of anything more lighthearted than that ajskfkg #kuroshitsuji #black butler #undertaker

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riahlynn101 · 10 months

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"A Facade of Indifference."

Summary: Undertaker has had many identities, but Cedric K. Ros will forever be his favorite.

Trigger warnings: nothing is super explicit, but there are mentions of canonical character deaths. One of which includes a child.

A/N: For this story - O!Ciel = Fenian, R!Ciel = Ciel

In his long life, Undertaker has gone by many names.

His original name, lost to time and memories he’d do anything not to recall.

136649, the number assigned to him by the higher ups.

Silver fox, by his coworker.

But truly, his favorite name, the only name that has ever mattered to him, was Cedric K. Ross.

He’d introduced himself as such to Claudia Phantomhive, flustered by her beauty and wit. The name was less a clever pun on his end, and more a scramble to tell the beautiful debutante something, anything so she didn’t think him daft.

It had been-at that point-close to twenty years since he had destroyed Shinigami headquarters. Occasionally he’d catch a glimpse of a death scythe, and he’d have to stop what he was doing to duck into a shop. Quite annoying, but headquarters hadn’t really made an effort to come collect him. If he knew better, Cedric might have said that they were scared of him.

But, still, it didn’t hurt to keep a low profile.

Getting married to a noble was the exact opposite of that. The queen’s watchdog, at that. His hatred for the hag knows no bounds. Ironically, her audacity also knows no bounds. So, maybe it balances out. Somehow.

Marrying into the Phantomhive family is akin to signing your own death certificate. It’s dangerous and deadly, and Claudia tells him over and over that she won’t resent him for leaving. That she would forgive him everything if he didn’t want to risk his life.

But Cedric never cared much for living anyway.

They wed, and barely a year later, Vincent was born.

Holding his son for the first time (and really all the times after that) was an experience he looks back on with a gentle sort of fondness. And that fondness only grew tenfold as his boy grew older.

And then, two years later, in the middle of January, his daughter was born. Francis took more after him in looks than her mother, but she was still undeniably Claudia’s daughter. From the time she could speak, she was ordering her brother to behave. Her strength and courage, which grew day by day, made his heart swell with pride. He did everything in his power to encourage her, including giving her fencing lessons (which his dear wife had not been entirely pleased with).

There’s no words to describe how much he loved his family.

And that, that love, made him worry.

Love is a weakness his higher-ups might use against him. The idea of his clever, beautiful Claudia, and their two (still young) children being harmed, made panic well up inside him. He couldn’t let that happen.

He wouldn’t allow that to happen.

So, he left them.

Claudia was the sole breadwinner anyway, and the children had Tanaka to tend to them. He left only a note behind, making a vague excuse as to why he had to leave them.

He left England behind, choosing to travel the world. Cedric fights the urge to return to his family, to check in on them. He celebrates each of their birthdays and his and Claudia’s anniversary with a baked good.

Life wasn’t great then, he missed his family so much it physically hurt, but it was for the best he stayed away.

And then, while in the middle of a trip to France, he got news of Claudia’s death.

Cedric had known loss long before that moment. Before becoming a grim reaper and long after. It was hard coded into his very being, the knowledge of life and death.

But it wasn’t until that moment that he understood the grief that comes with that very same loss. That all encompassing, suffocating feeling of heaviness. Of loneliness.

Of the hard, cold truth, that his decision to leave his family might have, in the end, been the very thing to damn them.

He returned to England, but not as Cedric, father of Vincent and Francis Phantomhive. No, that wouldn’t do. How could he call himself their father when he was the very reason their mother was dead.

Cedric kept to the shadows, tinkering with life and death itself. He watched with an aching heart, as his son became earl. The Queen’s Watchdog just like his mother before him.

But Cedric has never been one to be content with simply watching, so he crafted an identity. One that fit his morbid curiosity with all things death.

The Undertaker.

His hair-which he neglected in the months following Claudia’s death-hide his face, his identity. He works his way into his son’s graces by offering up information, and soon Cedric Undertaker found himself among the Phantomhives’ closest associates.

His children didn’t recognize him, or at least were excellent at pretending they didn’t. It hurt, a little, but he was content with finally seeing them in-person. Alive and well.

Francis married first. Thankfully out of the Phantomhive line, but still under the queen’s immediate demand. Alexis-for all his faults-seemed nice enough, and he was hopelessly in love with her. And she-in return-was just as in love with him.

And, while it was hard watching his daughter get married, the pure happiness she radiated put his wary mind at ease.

Her happiness only grew when she gave birth to Edward. His first grandchild, though he wasn’t allowed to share in the joy of the new arrival. Not because Francis didn’t trust him, no not at all. He….just couldn’t bring himself to hold something so precious and small and-

Elizabeth was born a few years later, just as small, just as precious as her brother before.

Vincent married second, to a beautiful but sickly young woman, Rachel. By then, Undertaker was used to his new identity. He grew close to his son, but maintained just enough distance for plausible deniability.

When Rachel fell pregnant, his son shared his worries with him. His usual cocky, confident persona fell away, showing all the hurt Cedric left behind.

It seemed, even with Tanaka and Claudia, his son (and most probably his daughter) needed him. He vowed to be a better father, a better grandfather even if it was from the shadows, under a different name.

The twins were born a few months later. Both somehow even tinier than their cousins. This time, though, he pushed all his worries aside to hold one of the twins.

Ciel and Fenian. One and the same. But Ciel-older than his brother by a mere five minutes-was announced the heir to the Phantomhive name.

Meanwhile, Fenian-who didn’t seem to cry as loud as his brother-was pushed into his arms. His pathetic attempts at crying out instantly ceased. Big blue eyes, just like Lady Rachel’s, stared up at him.

Then and there, he made another vow, a promise. To protect his grandchildren no matter what. To preserve their innocence and curiosity.

His grandchildren grew quickly. The twins-mirror images of one another-became harder and harder to tell apart. At least, for most people.

For him, though, it was extremely easy to pick apart who was who.

Ciel reminded him of Vincent - sharp features that he would no doubt grow into, a silver tongue, and an intelligence that rivaled most adults. He embodied what an heir of Phantomhive should be.

And little Fenian. All soft features and big eyes. He took more after his mother's side, particularly her red haired sister (Angeline, if he remembered correctly). He inherited his mother’s sickness, and his aunt’s painful shyness and bookishness. Only his love for chess and his physical appearance being so similar to his brother’s denoted him as a Phantomhive.

But the character he crafted shouldn’t care that the twins are two separate people. The Phantomhive family is a blob of faceless members, all tied together by either blood, a last name, or both.

He kept up the facade of indifference, not caring to differentiate between the twins out loud. But, in his head, while reading them a book, or holding the blanket in place so they could have their photo taken, he couldn’t help but refer to each of them by name.

And then, the massacre happened.

He wept for hours, over the broken, ruined remains of the estate. His son and daughter-in-law were nothing but ash by the time he could rummage through the wreckage. The twins were gone too, though most likely still alive.

He didn’t know if that was a good thing.

He packed his wagon with all the bodies that weren’t horrifically burnt. A project he’d been working on needed more test subjects.

Undertaker spends the next few weeks working day and night to find the twins. Reports of children’s bodies being dumped on the sides of roads come flooding in, but

no one does a single thing.

The queen, with her bleeding heart, that she just loved to wax poetic about, does nothing.

He traced the reports back to a cathedral. The building was old and worn, likely abandoned by the church years ago. Shinigami stand around, watching the building. They chat idly among themselves, as if the most depraved actions aren’t being done to the children inside.

That apathy, the disconnect from the pain and suffering, was one thing Undertaker would never miss from his days in retrieval.

But them being there meant he couldn’t burst in and save them. If even one recognized him, then it would be game over. No one else would be coming to save the twins. The police refused to act, even with the amount of evidence Undertaker sent them (under a different name, of course), and their family was in shambles.

Unfortunately, by the time he could sneak past, it was already too late.

Ciel was dead, soul gone. And Fenian’s soul was damned, signed over to the leeches of leeches, a demon.

He saved his grandson’s body, carrying him from the burning wreckage of the cathedral. Blood and grime clinging to him like a second skin.

Fenian became Ciel, and was crowned earl of the house of Phantomhive. Her majesty either not noticing or caring enough, made the traumatized ten-and-a-half-year-old her watchdog.

The only thing Undertaker hated more than her, was the demon slowly eating away at his grandson’s soul. Not his physical soul, of course, that bit would come later. But his spirit, his kindness and generosity. The hope and child-like spark in his one uncovered eye.

It pained him, but he had a character to play and a plan to see through. If all went well, the demon wouldn’t be bothering Fenian for long.

He offered up information when prompted, though he never made it easy. It’s surprisingly easy to annoy the little earl, but it’s a necessary evil to ensure neither the demon, nor his grandson suspect him of anything.

It worked. Maybe a little too well, because the look his grandson sent him could only be described as betrayed.

His heart clenched painfully in his chest. How much trust had the little Phantomhive put in him?

Too much, was the answer. And somehow, not enough.

His plan went awry. Everything became jumbled, snowballing until he’s watching Fenian plummet thirty feet downwards. His mourning chain, the one containing the last remaining piece of his Claudia (of his friends murdered in cold blood by her royal highness). Through the chaos the little earl and he made eye contact.

For a singular moment, he was back in the nursery, holding his grandson. Little Fenian, who was never supposed to amount to much. Tiny and sickly and a pale comparison to his already more lively older brother. Eyes of bright blue that once held hope and promise.

Eyes that now stare up at him in fear, yes, but also in acute curiosity, locked on his mourning chain.

He allows the little Phantomhive to take it. It’s his greatest treasure, but he’s sure his grandson will take excellent care of it. Besides, isn’t passing things down what a grandparent’s supposed to do? And he isn’t much worried about losing it anyway, after all, he’s quite certain that they’ll be meeting again very soon.

#cross posted on ao3 #black butler fanfiction #ciel and undertaker #Undertaker is Cedric K. Ros

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the-letter-horror-lover · 2 years

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Two Reapers

Astre_Red

Summary:

“First of all, you KNEW the Undertaker?! You were friends?!”

Othello doesn't answer, just blinks with surprise and asks “Oh, were you not a reaper yet?” with his eternal smile even as Grell glares at him.

(He wonders, briefly, what he should say. “Friend”, this stupid word, doesn't fit his and Whitey's relationship. But again, neither does the word enemy. Really, nothing can explain it.)

Othello and Undertaker.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Othello and After-Life Citizen #136649 are not friends. Actually, it takes them a few years into the organization to interact. After all, grim reapers from different divisions rarely need to talk to each other.

They know of each other, obviously -the perfect grim reaper and the crazy scientist- but beyond that there is nothing to connect them besides their status of reapers.

The first time they talk -really talk besides seeing each other in the dusty corridors- is in one of the numerous lab of the organization. There are a lot even though Othello mostly works in the same one.

He's alone when the other enters, partially because his colleagues have work to do elsewhere and mostly because they didn't want to stick around him. Which is fine with him -he likes them as much as they like him.

It's easy to recognize him. There's not a lot of reapers with white/silver hair, especially this length. And if anything, his impassible face is what gives him away the most.

“You look like you don't know what laughter is.” Othello says with a smile, because he has always been good at pointing out what needed to be point out -at least in his opinion.

After-Life Citizen #136649 doesn't smile back. He stares coldly at Othello, almost a glare but not quite, and that would scare most people into bowing and letting him have his way, but Othello isn't most people.

“You should laugh sometimes. What's life without laughter?”

After-Life Citizen #136649 does glare this time, and Othello is surprised by the utter lack of actual irritation. It looks more like he is irritated because he is supposed to be rather beause he actually is.

“I'm not here for that and you know it.” he answers, voice dull, and Othello smiles wider.

“True. So what'd ya want?”

Mechanically, he hands Othello a package and explains.

“This is something the Retrieval Division found recently. The Forensics Division is tasked to examine it.”

“You really should laugh more.” the green-haired scientist insists while taking the package “You sound like a robot.”

He doesn't answer and turns to leave before Othello calls him back.

“I need your name you know ! Everyone outside the division that goes in the lab has to register.”

After-Life Citizen #136649 stares coldly at him -beginning to get used to that- and slowly answers “After-Life Citizen #136649”.

“How boring. And way too long ! I'll just call you Whitey.”

“You will not.” Whitey interrupts sharply. It's the first real emotion Othello heard from him since he walked into the lab, and he grins.

“It suits you though.” he says, and Whitey turns and walks away. How rude.

(Othello does, in fact, register him as After-Life Citizen #136649, but it's more because he doesn't want troubles with the superiors than because he's afraid of Whitey.)

Their second meeting is less funny and more worrying. It's a few weeks after, or maybe more -it's not like Othello is keeping track.

The scientist is leaving the lab late and last, like always, when he almost crashes into someone when turning around a corner.

A strong hand grabs his less-than-strong arm, and Othello blinks before looking up.

“Whitey!” he beams, and the other examines him briefly before letting go of his arm. He's the same as last time, long hair tucked in a ponytail, face as serious as ever, but something else catches Othello's attention.

“Wow, you look tired.” and isn't that an understatement. He's pretty sure that he never saw such bags under eyes, and he himself stays awake for days to work on something. “Even the best grim reaper has to sleep, you know.”

Whitey frowns and continues to stare at him.

“Why are you here?” he asks, which surprises Othello. He didn't expect the guy to actually try and hold conversation, but hey, good for him.

“I work after hours. I'm very dedicated to my work!” and it's not like he has anything better to do, but he's not about to tell him that.

“You shouldn't. Even grim reapers need sleep.”

Othello sends him and incredulous look.

“I don't want to hear that from you!”

Something flickers on Whitey's face, too quick to identify. It almost looks like a smile, but Othello sincerely doubts it.

“Where are you going anyways ? You look dead on your feet.” he grins even as Whitey sends him a flat look.

“Mission in the human world.” he answers and Othello frowns.

“Seriously? Do you ever do something besides working?”

“Do you?” Whitey retorts, and Othello pauses. The other leaves before he can answer, but he still yells at his back.

“At least I sleep!”

Their third meeting is what reinforce their “friendship” or whatever their relationship is. And it's far from funny.

Othello knows, obviously, that the fact that his scythe hasn't changed since his academy days isn't common. Not rare, since a few others forensics are in the same case, but not common.

So he isn't surprised when a man whose name he can't be bothered to remember sneers at him on one of the numerous nights where he works after hours.

He comes to the lab with a smug grin. Othello knows his sort, these people -often from the Retrieval Division- who looks down on the forensics for being “so weak”. Othello would tell him that their division is as important -if not more- than theirs if he thought he had the braincells to understand. Which he really doesn't. So he just ignores him.

He expects the yelling. He doesn't expect the hit.

He falls and braces himself on the table -he faintly notices bottles falling and papers russling, but his ears are ringing and his arm hurts like hell so he doesn't care- but the fool isn't done yet. He grabs Othello by his front shirt and yells something. Yelling seems to be the one thing he's good at.

Oh. Judging by his expression he said it outloud.

This time, Othello is ready to fight back. His scythe is small but that doesn't mean he's defenseless. He pushes the fool away and gets up -his ears are still ringing, he almost starts to worry- before turning his gaze to his attacker, ready to strike. He freezes.

Someone got to it first.

The way that Whitey holds the other's wrist has to be painful, on the verge of breaking. It's probably meant to be. But that's not what takes Othello aback. It's the pure rage on his usually impassible face

“What do you think you're doing?” Whitey slowly asks to the rapidly paling reaper, who stopped struggling once he recognized who exactly was holding him.

“I-” he starts, then stops and shoots a panicked look at Othello, as if asking him for help. Ha. You dig your own grave, now stay in it.

But then Whitey's grip becomes even more strong and while Othello doesn't care if they get in trouble, he doesn't want Whitey to be in it because of him and a stupidly arrogant reaper.

“It's okay.” he says, and Whitey glances at him before letting go. The fool scrambles backwards and runs away. They watch him disappear, and a strange silence falls.

“Does this happen often?” Whitey asks, and Othello smiles bitterly.

“There are idiots everywhere.” His answer doesn't seem to satisfy him, but he doesn't say anything else.

They walk to the dormitories together. The following nights, Whitey waits for him and accompanies him until he's back among his colleagues.

After that, they meet often, either in the lab or in the corridor. They don't seek each other during daylights to avoid useless gossip, but they talk at night while most reapers sleep away.

“You interested in science?” Othello asks one day after Whitey's many questions. The reaper hums softly.

“I suppose I am. It is interesting, and quite different from human's science after all.”

Othello beams. Whitey talks a lot more now that they established some sort of common ground, and he had been delighted to hear that science was something Whitey was interested in.

“Right?! There's so much to experience!”

It's much later, after many similar talks, that Whitey asks a question that makes Othello pauses.

“Have you ever thought of doing experiencing on the dead?”

It's not a bad question, albeit a strange one. But it still makes something in Othello twist, though he doesn't know why.

“No. I mean, yes, but some things are better left alone. Don't you think so?”

(Later, Othello would wonder if this was the moment where the idea first crossed Undertaker's mind.)

Things start to go badly when Whitey abruptly stops visiting him during almost a month. Othello worries, but when he comes back he smiles and waves widely.

“Hey! Thought you were going to abandon him Whitey!”

“Of course not. That would be dreadful of me, right?”

And Othello blinks, because Whitey is smiling.

It's no that Whitey never smiles ; he started smiling more often once he and Othello grew closer, and it always made him happy. But the smile he's wearing now is wide and cold, unlike the few ones he gave before -those were small but so warm.

“You okay?” he asks, and Whitey nods, still smiling.

The conversation starts like usual even though Othello can't get rid of his anxiousness.

“What's the difference between the dead and the living?”

Othello pauses, taken aback. He smiles, thinking of it as a joke.

“The soul, obviously. And I guess the whole corpse thing is important too!”

“But if the corpse was still functioning without the soul?”

This time, alarm bells ring in Othello's head even though Whitey's idea fascinates him.

“I'm not sure. Even us don't exactly know what role the soul fulfill. If we don't know that, how can we know if someone can live without it?”

Whitey hums, but doesn't answer. Othello's unease doesn't leave.

One night, Othello comes back to the lab after leaving because he forgot one of his notes. When he arrives, he catches a flicker of white hair abruptly leaving the lab.

He should report the intruder. He doesn't.

Days later, After-Life Citizen #136649's abrupt leave and betrayal shakes the Grim Reaper Dispatch.

(Much later, the Undertaker will stare down at him, in a manor where the dead came back to a sort of life. Othello will look at him, at his maybe once friend. He will look at his scars and tired and cold eyes and too wide smile, and wonder.

Was it worth it?)

Notes:

I am surprised by the lack of fics about these two. Othello is the only one alive who canonically knew Undertaker from way before, so I expected more about these two.

(I didn't have inspiration for the title)

#black butler fanfiction

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136646 · 5 months

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Traditional art by Yana Toboso

#black butler undertaker #black butler #kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji fanart #kuroshitsuji undertaker #undertaker #undertaker black butler #136649 #nikki #136646 #traditional art #yana toboso #grim reaper #black butler shinigami #drawing #black butler fanart #book of circus

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abybweisse · 1 year

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Why is undertaker's scythe an actual Scythe unlike the other reapers?? And do grim repaers have their scythes specially made for themselves? What is so special about him that they decided to give him an real scythe?

Undertaker's scythe, revisited

All of these questions have been discussed in my blog before, in some fashion. Perhaps try searching it for stuff like "agriculture" or "agricultural". Or "Undertaker's death scythe" or "Cedric of Rotherwood".

But, for quick answers, I'll break it down like this:

1. That's what he chose. Either that sort of scythe was new technology when he first became a reaper (Cedric of Rotherwood from Ivanhoe parallel) because he's really that old... or a death scythe that looks like an actual scythe is the regulation version that reapers usually get once they complete their training. And he either didn't modify it after turning it from sickle to scythe, or he only modified it a bit, like adding the skeletal details.

Since I think he's very old, and because he was the "epitome" of a reaper, I think this is the only design he would have wanted.

2. It's explained in the manga that once reapers complete their training, they get to modify their death scythes. Othello's sickle is a training version because he never modified it at all. He admits that to Grelle when we are first introduced to him.

Grelle's most-recent modification apparently wasn't made until working with Madam Red inspired the chain saw design. One of the reasons William arrests Grelle is because of this unauthorized modification. That means it's new. Grelle later gets the modification approved. Ronald's modification is also fairly new, probably made just before we meet him, and he had to chat up a lady from the reaper HQ's modification department (or whatever) to get it. Honestly, I think both of them have ridiculous designs for death scythes. Not only is it gruesome to hit a person with rotating blades, but any death scythe that relies on rotation is easily disrupted: we've seen Sebastian stop Grelle's with a wool coat, and we've seen Layla/Al stop Ronald's with what might be regular scissor blades. Ludger might have a similar weakness in the design of his hedge trimmer.

3. At the time, nothing about Undertaker (136649) would have seemed special at all... beyond him refusing to go by his name. I suspect that he's really that old. All the reapers long ago would have probably used death scythes that look like scythes.

What's so special about the (relatively) newer reapers -- like Grelle, Ludger, and Ronald -- that they'd be approved to use power tools as death scythes?

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seekers-who-are-lovers · 2 years

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“Upon my word we are besieged once more with assignments today. My notebook is full of these poor souls.” Othello stood on the building lurking.

Grim Reaper 136649 looked around the courtyard decorated with cadavers. His silver long hair tucked in a ponytail and his big black coat belied the grisly backdrop. Plague victims, darkened and bloated, piled each corner of the ground. In every house lay not only one but several inhabitants who were suffering, either fighting death or welcoming it.

“We have to move on, Othello.”

Othello looked at his taller companion. Both wore spectacles to hide their eyes, which bore a shimmering chartreuse phosphorescent. Their manners peculiar and both were holding their death scythes. Several fiery slit eyes were skulking, wary, alert, anticipating.

“Othello, be on your guard. The management informed me that Sabnock’s legion of demons are scattered all around here. We cannot afford to lose one single soul lest they be consumed by these obnoxious vermins.”

“How outrageous. How could a spawn of hell unleash this plague? God moves in mysterious ways, I say.” Unfazed, Reaper 136649 was already on the prowl. Doubtful if he heard Othello and his facetious whining.

The smaller reaper gazed at his companion, who began to wield his scythe, to and fro, without emotion, without attachment, without delay. Othello said his prayers over and over again as he reaped them one after another:

Grant to them eternal rest. Let light perpetual shine upon them. May his soul and the souls of all the departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

The dying looked him in the eye, pulled their last breath, while the demons shivered and stepped away.

~~~~~~~~

Tagging @kuro-morale-events for Challenge of the Day: Middle Ages

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tiffany-s-boudoir · 2 years

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136649 : « It won’t hurt. »

Turn on the sound 🔈

This is the third animation, enjoy !

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #kuroshitsuji fanart #undertaker #undertaker kuroshitsuji #undertaker black butler #black butler fanart #shinigami #grim reapers #animation #shinigami dispatch society #136649 #silver fox #kuroshitsuji reapers #reaper

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xxyumeno · 2 years

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Zir is on break and hope no one decides to die during it.

#🕊 ＊ open starters. will you take the offered hand for fun and adventure?#🕊 ＊ ic. undertaker 「 136649/silver fox; grim reaper 」#( this fox is woke up for some reason'#( don't why but ze is here

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dqrkncss666 · 3 years

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Undertaker head canons

Kinda shitpost but I really like this head canons and some for Claudia as well XD love the ship...

Undertaker is an Albino. That’s one reason he suicided himself. He didn’t know what was wrong with him... (research of when did they discover Albino ppl)

People say that he actually set himself on fire, but I personally thing he drowned himself (i am wrong and ik, but still)

He saw his family dying when he was a child.

The lockets he holds are people that actually enjoyed his presence. Friends, family and others. . .

He got his scars when he destroyed the headquarters from another Grim Reaper that tried to stop him. We can all imagine what happened to that poor Reaper. . .

When he first realized what his job was, he tried to kill himself again thinking that it was all a nightmare but got stopped from hurting himself by a Reaper that introduced him to the whole Reaper thing.

He didn’t like being called the ‘Legendary Grim Reaper or 136649’ around his work space. Othello kinda noticed that so that’s another reason he named him ‘Silver Fox’. (Othello good friendo xD)

Claudia Phantomhive was the only person that knew his true name. He trusted her more than anyone.

He had to watch her getting married to another man as an order from the Queen. That’s one other reason he hates the Queen.

They had their relationship a secret from everyone. Only Tanaka found out when he entered the Manor.

Vincent and Frances are indeed Claudia’s and Undertaker’s children. They tricked the other man into thinking it was his.

Undertaker went each night to see his son and daughter and play with them. When they grew older Claudia told them and begged them to keep it a secret from the other man. They did. . .

Undertaker and Claudia got married in an old abandoned chapel, no one was there to prove that they are actually married but as proof of their eternal love they wrote their names on the chapels altar with a sharp rock. As long as those names are still untouched on that altar, their love will be unharmed. . .

Undertaker wants laughter as payment because its the only way that he can actually achieve something as a smile.

He smiles because he can’t weep anymore.

When Sebastian and O/Ciel left after their first visit from his Funeral Parlor, Undertaker was out of his mind. He started hitting anything near him asking ‘why’. He almost went to hit the coffin R/Ciel was in but controlled himself.

He detests Sebastian more than anything.

ALRIGHT THAT’S IT FOR NOW~

Thanks to my new 2 followers~ heheh~ ❤

Welcome to my madness~

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