#cin cin records

[disease]

FORT ROMEAU // THE ZONE [SINGLE, JUN 2023]

[ca-dmv-bot]

Customer: CINDY'S 2013 CAMARO DMV: 13 GANG REFERENCE, NO 2013 ON RECORD Verdict: DENIED

[cindol]

SEEN A LIGHTSKIN NIGGA WITH HIS BRAINS BLOWNNNN OUTTT

[watchmegetobsessed]

❄️LEFT ON READ❄️

A/N: fanficmas has come to its end! i hope you uys enjoyed these little festive fics, thank you for reading and thank you to those who also participated in it!!

WORD COUNT: 3.4k

SUMMARY: Following a drunk night you realize you sent some voice messages to your childhood best friend about having feelings for him. Panic sets in when he leaves you on read with no reply.

This fic is part of ❄️ FANFICmas 2022 ❄️ Read more about fanficmas here!

“Oh my God, his car is on Anne’s driveway!”

You burst through the front door like the house is on fire, ripping your coat and scarf off of you while kicking your boots off. Your mom didn’t understand what you said, she just heard you act like there’s an emergency, so she runs out of the kitchen, her hands covered in flour, looking at you with wide eyes.

“What happened? Is the Christmas tree on fire?” she asks and you shake your head.

“Worse. Harry is home!” you groan before running upstairs, her laughter echoing behind you.

“I’m sure it will be alright, Honey!”

“Nothing will be alright mom!” you shout back before shutting the door of your childhood room behind you.

This is not how you imagined returning for the holidays, you ruined it all with one drunk night when you couldn’t control yourself and sent the absolute worst voice messages to your childhood best friend, Harry. The Harry Styles, the guy half the world is in love with.

And you’re part of that half, have been since you were about twelve.

ONE WEEK EARLIER

“Oh my God, I really shouldn’t drink another one,” you snort out a laugh, but take the tequila shot from Nara anyway.

“Come on, it’s our Friendmas, we all agreed to get smashed!” Cindy shrieks, clearly drunk, because her blonde hair has stray strands that escaped her always neat bun and she never allows her hair to be anything but perfect.

“Alright, alright, cheers!” you snort out a laugh as you clink your glasses together for the fifth time before chugging down the shots.

You can’t help but grimace as the liquid slips down your throat, burning your inside. Deep down you know you’ll regret all this alcohol in the morning when you’ll feel like dying, but tonight, you’re letting loose.

Your phone lights up on the table and you snatch it with a groan, trying to focus on the screen to see who just texted you.

HARRY: Alright, just text me when you get home so I know you didn’t die. Xx

You snort out a laugh, because you can actually hear him say it in your head.

“Oh, I’m guessing the rockstar has texted Y/N!” Nara laughs and you pull your shoulders up to your ears giggling.

“Stop!”

“When are you guys gonna have toe curling sex?” Cindy bluntly asks, grabbing her mojito from the table, trying to wrap her plump lips around the straw, but she misses several times before succeeding.

“Shut up, never!” you gasp, but warmth instantly crawls up your neck to your cheeks.

“Oh, come on!” Nara rolls her eyes. “You’re clearly in love with him and I’m sure he feels the same way. What’s stopping you?”

“It’s complicated, he doesn’t… He doesn’t love me that way,” you mumble, typing a reply to him that’s full of typos probably.

“You’re missing out, babe,” Cindy points at you, attempting to wink.

“You’ve definitely imagined what you’d say to him,” Nara grins at you. “Let us hear it!”

“No!” you protest.

“Yes! Let’s hear how you’d beg him to dick you down on the stage of Maddison Square Garden!” Cindy laughs like hyena and you gape at how unhinged she has become.

“Jesus,” you sigh, knowing they won’t leave you alone until you comply. “Okay, so I always imagined sending him voice messages, because he says he loves them, because he can listen to them anytime he wants.”

You look at your friends, pretending to hold your phone to your mouth, as if you were actually recording.

“Spicy,” Cindy giggles.

“What would you tell him?” Nara grins with glassy eyes.

“Something like… Hey, it’s Y/N.”

“Why would you say it’s you, he would literally be in his text messages with you,” Cindy cocks her head to the side.

“Shut up, Cindy!” Nara pokes her, making you laugh. “Go on!”

“Okay, so… There’s something I really want to tell you and I don’t think I can keep it a secret anymore. I’ve been madly in love with you since seventh grade, Harry. None of the guys I dated ever compared to you and I’m convinced I might die alone if we don’t get together.”

You let out a laugh, gesturing around with your phone in hand. You even almost drop it, Cindy shrieking and attempting to catch it, but you manage to keep it in your hand.

“Where’s the dirty part?” Nara asks.

“Yeah, you should tell him you want to suck his dick dry,” Cindy nods, taking another sip from her drink.

“I could never tell him about the things I’ve fantasized about in the past decade,” you laugh with your head falling back.

“But you can tell us!” Nara nods enthusiastically.

“No! I’m not… I want to keep that to myself, but let’s just say everything his fans thought of… I thought of those too.”

All three of you laugh before you venture to other topics and Harry gets forgotten. The night stretches long, it’s past three in the morning by the time you get back to your apartment. Even drunk, you remember Harry asked you to text him when you get home, so falling into bed you muster up some energy to open up his messages. Your fingers linger over the screen as you try to put together your thoughts, but all of them vanish when you see the last things you sent him.

Voice messages.

There are several of them after your last text to him. Blood rushes out of your head instantly as you sit up, suddenly wide awake. You tap on the first one and your voice flows out of your phone with the background noises of the bar.

“---and I don’t think I can keep it a secret anymore. I’ve been madly in love with you since seventh grade, Harry.”

“Oh no,” you gasp as you go to the next one.

“---convinced I might die alone if we don’t get together.”

Frantically you go over all of them, wishing the ground would open and it would swallow you forever.

“You should tell him you want to suck his dick dry.” Cindy’s voice is heard in the next one.

“---keep that to myself, but let’s just say everything his fans thought of… I thought of those too.”

The last message cuts off after your laughter. You’re staring at your phone in utter disbelief, part of you hoping the voice messages would just disappear from the thread and you’d realize you’re just too drunk and made up the whole thing.

But they remain there, and when your eyes wander lower you see the word that almost sends you into a coma.

Read 2:34 am

TODAY

Christmas was your favorite time, because both you and Harry returned to where you met when you were kids, but this year, your little trick ruined it all.

Harry hasn’t replied to your voice messages, not even to the text you sent him in the morning, trying your best to put out the fire you just lit.

Y/N: I can explain this, Harry. I got drunk, I didn’t know what I was talking, it was all just an accident! Can we pretend I didn’t send those messages? Please???

You guess his silence is a reply too, not the one you wanted though.

Now you’re locked up in your old room as you hear your mom greeting her friends for her usual Christmas party she holds every year. Normally you’d be down there, sipping on some wine, mingling, but this year, you might not even show your face.

Not when you know Harry could be already down there.

Maybe he is not coming. Maybe he was so traumatized by your voice messages that he will never ever want to see or talk to you. If that’s the case, you’ll probably die, because he is your best friend, but facing him right now also makes you want to vanish from this world.

You fucked yourself over. Big time.

“Y/N?” you hear a knock on the door from your mom as you’re anxiously pacing the floor. She opens the door and stands with her hands on her hips. “Stop acting like a baby and come down, will you?”

“Is he here?”

“No, Anne came alone,” she sighs.

At first you’re relieved. But then you realize that he might actually never want to talk to you again because of those stupid messages and that feels way worse.

Unwillingly, you join the party downstairs, but you try to avoid Anne. She is so close to Harry, there’s a chance he told her what happened and there’s no way you can look into her eyes after that.

It’s probably not the best idea, but you have some wine that makes you dizzy and you get into a spiral about Harry.

Why didn’t he reply to your messages? He could have at least reacted or told you it’s better if you never talk. You’ve known him for so long, it’s the least you deserve. Is he home alone now? He would rather stay back than to face you? Is this really the end of your friendship?

“Oh fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you decide it’s time to slow down on the alcohol, since it’s what got you in trouble in the first place, so put your glass into the dishwasher.

“Everything alright?”

Anne’s voice makes you jump and you’re met with her warm smile when you turn around.

“Yeah!” you squeak. “Everything is… perfect!”

She’s come to get a refill and you watch her as if she was a ticking bomb. But she is her usual self, there’s no sign of pity towards you, so there’s a chance she doesn’t know what happened between you and Harry.

“Where… Where’s Harry?” you ask, trying your best not to sound like an obsessed psycho.

“Oh, he had a meeting or whatever. He said he’ll come right over when he’s done, but maybe he got stuck in front of his laptop,” she chuckles. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon, don’t worry,” she pats your hand before walking out of the kitchen.

From that moment, your stomach drops every time you hear the front door opening, thinking it’s Harry, but as two hours pass by you start to think that he won’t come. You keep checking your phone, hoping for a message, but only seeing your pathetic last text every time you open the thread is like a slap across your face.

You really messed up because you were drunk and you outed yourself in such a ridiculous way. Now your best friend doesn’t even want to see you.

The party comes to its end, the house empties out and you get into a lethargic mood as you help your mom clean up.

“Why don’t you just go over and talk to him, hm?” she asks seeing your bitter face.

“It’s pretty obvious he doesn’t want to talk,” is all you say.

You lock yourself up in your room for the rest of the night, acting like a heartbroken teenager. You can’t believe this is how you lose Harry, your best friend, the boy you grew up with and the only man you ever truly loved.

It’s sometime past ten when you hear knocking. On your window.

“What the—“

As you sit up and walk over to the window you almost get a heart attack when you see Harry squatting in front of your window that’s right above the garage. Growing up it gave you the perfect opportunity to sneak out, because you could easily climb out without your mom noticing and Harry also used it as his entrance quite a few times. But now as you see the grown version of him there, your mind goes blank as you open the window.

“What… Harry, what are you doing?” you ask as he gestures at you to step back so he can climb in.

“God, this went easier when I was fifteen,” he chuckles when he is finally standing in your room.

“Harry, would you mind explaining why you didn’t use the front door?” you ask, folding your arms over your chest.

“Because your mum is probably asleep and I didn’t want to wake her.”

“Why didn’t you come in the morning then?”

“Because I wanted to talk,” he replies with a smug grin.

It’s odd to see grown Harry in your old room, you have tons of memories with him from when you were kids, but he is a man now, a tall, ridiculously good-looking man in your room that still has your old posters on the yellow walls.

“Talk?” you squeak, anxiety creeping up its way on your spine again.

“Mhm, about your messages. Remember them?” he asks and while you’re debating whether you should jump out the window or play dead, he is smirking at you as if it was all just a joke to him.

“I do,” you nod shortly.

“Anything to add to them?”

“Nope,” you say, but then change your mind. “Actually, I do have something to add.”

“Okay, go on, I’m listening,” he nods, still grinning as he leans against your dresser.

“Leaving me on read was rude. I might have sent you some unhinged, unexpected messages, but I apologized in the morning and you left me on read! And then you didn’t show up at the party, you made me think you never want to talk to me again. That was very rude.”

He stares back at you, his head tilted to the side and you feel the urge to hit him if he doesn’t wipe that smirk off of his face.

“I know. And I’m sorry for that,” he finally says. “But I felt like it’s not a conversation I want to have over text messages.

“Um, okay…”

Pushing himself away from the dresser he starts to approach you slowly while you’re backing at the same time, but the room is not too spacious, your back quickly hits the wall.

“The messages were unexpected,” he points out the obvious. “I have to say, when I listened to them in the middle of the night, I didn’t know what to think.”

“It was an accident, we got drunk and we were just messing around.”

“Clearly,” he chuckles. “So then… did you mean it?”

“What?”

“The things you said. That you’re madly in love with me and that you might end up dying alone if we don’t get together.”

Hearing the words from his mouth makes your head spin as you stare back at him on the verge of the biggest turning point of your friendship. For a moment you hesitate, consider saying it was just a joke, but you’re also too tired to keep it a secret any longer.

“Yes,” you finally say, your heart drumming in your ears.

He stares at you for what feels like forever, the corners of his mouth curling up and you see a little nod from him before he backs away from you so he’s not cornering you anymore.

“Good,” he then says and you wait for more, because that one word can’t be his reaction alone, he has to have more to say. But he remains silent, the smirk still plastered across his face and you finally lose your patience with him.

“Good? That’s really all you have to say? You know what? You’re an asshole! I might have sent you the most awkward and unhinged messages, but you left me on fuckin read and now all you say is good, but nothing is good! If this is just a joke to you, then maybe we—“

The words die on your tongue when his lips smash against yours, his hands locking your face in his palms as he kisses all your worries, fears and anxiety away. He pushes you against the wall again, his hips pressing against yours and you can’t hold a moan back when his tongue meets yours. Your head bumps against the light switch over and over again and it takes some time to realize that you keep turning the lights on and off in the room.

You grin against his lips and he keeps kissing them as you let out a laugh, your hands holding onto his slim waist.

“If you think…” he keeps kissing you, “That I’m done scolding you…” more kisses, “For leaving me on read… you’re wrong.”

“Scold me, punish me,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Do whatever you want.”

“Naughty,” you giggle.

He kisses you some more before pulls back, a more serious look on his face.

“I’m sorry for leaving you on read, but I really wanted to see your pretty face when I tell you that I’ve been madly in love with you too.”

Your heart is about to burst out of your chest at his words, the pain you felt in the past week already long forgotten when you see how he is looking at you.

“You’re not just pulling my leg? It’s not just a Christmas prank, right?”

“No,” he chuckles. “I just can’t believe this is how it happened.”

“I’m never drinking again,” you groan, but he just kisses your cheek.

“It’s fine, you can always send me dirty voice messages,” he smirks playfully.

“You’ll never let me live it down, right?” you sigh and he shakes his head grinning.

“Nope.”

“Alright, then I will tease you about leaving me on read.”

“Tease me all you want, as long as I get to kiss you afterwards,” he mumbles as he leans closer, brushing his lips against yours teasingly before finally kissing you.

ONE YEAR LATER

There is not one finger Harry has free as he pushes his way into his home, dozens of shopping bags hanging from him everywhere. With a groan he kicks the front door closed behind him and drops everything to the floor, finally feeling his fingers again.

“Babe?” he calls you, a bit frustrated that you didn’t come out to the car to help him carry the bags in and he is way too proud to make two rounds, so he had to do it all at once, resulting in him becoming a Christmas tree himself.

He walks further into the home he’s been sharing with you this past six months, looking for your pretty face to ask what was so important that you couldn’t help him.

To be exact, you left him on read when he texted you that he’s arrived.

“Y/N?” he calls for you again and he finally hears your footsteps approaching from the bedroom. Moments later you appear in your silky robe, an oblivious smile on your face.

“Hey babe!” you greet him and he forces himself to ignore how deliciously cozy you look with your freshly washed hair, makeupless face and he can smell your lotion even from across the room.

“Why didn’t you come out to help me with the bags?” he huffs, pouting his lip as you approach him gracefully. “I texted you and you saw it!”

“Oh,” you breathe out furrowing your eyebrows. “You mean… I left you on read when I should have definitely replied? Hm, that sounds like something that happened before to us.” You tap on your chin, pretending to be thinking and he finally realizes what it’s about.

“Babe…” he groans, but a chuckle slips from his lips. “Am I still not forgiven for that?”

“Never,” you grin at him devilishly as you step closer, placing your hands to the base of his neck.

“This was rude, I had to carry all the stuff on my own!” he pouts his lips at you like a little kid, his hands finding your waist.

“Aw, I’m sorry. I was busy, actually, so I couldn’t help.”

“What was so important?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at you.

You step back, his hands slipping off your hips and you gift him with an angelic smile as you untie your robe and let it slide off your shoulders, revealing the sparkly red lingerie set you’re wearing underneath. Harry’s mouth hangs open instantly, his eyes roaming your body relentlessly.

“Is this a good enough excuse?” you ask, batting your eyes at him.

“Yeah, you’re forgiven!” he nods eagerly as he steps closer just to pick you up bridal style and he carries you back to the bedroom as you laugh, pressing kisses to his jawline, the grocery bags long forgotten in the hallway.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[cinamun]

Hey Cin, hope you're well.

I'm curious where I can find the record player sets from this pic?

Hey friend!!

Almost everything in the wrekka sto came with the download. The lot is called Copperdale Records <- and maybe you could download it and pull out this set from the cc files?

[howlingday]

tragic backstory (tm) au) ozpin finally gets to show up merlin as the wizard mentor to a inspiring king who is also a symbol of hope. granted jaune has no real authority since the council does everything nor does he wish to take over but ozpin knows exactly what jaune needs.... no not actual training in the basics of combat to act a a foundation to his greater feats, that's rediculous! no he needs PHENOMENAL ACTING TALENT!!!!!!!

time for everyone's favorite cinnomin role to come back and help jaune decide on a persona and how to play it!

Original Cin-Cin

---------------------------------------------------

Ozpin: How was your mission, Mr. Arc?

Jaune: Uh, great! Really great! Definitely didn't say or do anything wrong.

Ozpin: I'm glad to hear it, since Springtime's current headmaster is a dear friend of mine.

Jaune: O-Oh, really?

Ozpin: Yes. In fact, I was just in contact with him recently, and he said-

Jaune: (On the floor) I'm sorry! I didn't know that the microphone was on!

Ozpin: ...You caved much faster than I thought. Is that really how a king should present himself?

Jaune: Again with the king stuff? (Stands up) Sooner or later, people are going to figure out I'm not a king.

Ozpin: Indeed. Just someone who got extremely lucky and famous.

Jaune: More unlucky...

Ozpin: And infamous. As I recall, that was how you referred to yourself when being introduced.

Jaune: Huh? Oh, yeah. I guess I did do that.

Ozpin: Indeed you did, and it was enough to get people talking. To get people thinking. Everyone now knows who you are, or has at least heard of you.

Jaune: Yeah. And now my family's getting harassed every day and I can't do a thing about it.

Ozpin: Sadly, no. It is one of the many flaws of being famous, and infamous. But the people need leadership, Mr. Arc. As the adage goes, sometimes you have to fake it until you make it.

Jaune: What about after I make it?

Ozpin: Then you'll be on your own, in a way. You'll be in a position where your faking no longer applies, and you'll have friends you can rely on to help you however they can.

Jaune: So I just have to keep pretending I'm someone I'm not? Just this... fake king guy?

Ozpin: Well, if you'd like, I can assign you a... shall we say "outsourced tutor" to help you build your confidence?

Jaune: An outsourced tutor? What do you mean?

---------------------------------------------------

Yang: You sure you don't want to come down and see Cin-Cin?

Blake: I'm sure. From what Jaune's told us, she's still nervous around Faunus, so I'd prefer to not do anything that would upset her while she's visiting.

Yang: Alright. I'll try to record as much as their sibling bonding as I can. Just for you.

Blake: (Smiles) Thank you.

Weiss: Ruby, what do you think? Blue earrings, yes or no?

Ruby: Wow... You're asking for my opinion?!

Weiss: Don't make me regret asking you.

Ruby: No, no! You can trust me! Um, uh, well, uh...

Nora: I dunno why you're so concerned about her. Doesn't she already not like you?

Weiss: Which is exactly why I'm trying to show her my better qualities!

Emerald: But wasn't one of the reasons she doesn't like you is how superficial you are?

Weiss: ...

Weiss: (Crouches in a corner) I just can't win, can I?

Ruby: Ah! B-Bestie!

Ren: Nora, are you upsetting Weiss again?

Nora: Maaaaaybe?

Mercury: Nice goin', Em. Brutal honesty wins again.

Emerald: Was it really that brutal? I was just asking a question.

---------------------------------------------------

Jaune: So it's just the four of us, huh?

Yang: Almost like we're our own team, huh?

Ruby: What would we be called? R-Y-P-J? Rip J? Uh, R-P-Y-J, Rippage? R-J-Y... Uh, what was the other one?

Yang: P.

Pyrrha: ...Were you talking to me?

Yang: Nah, I was answering Ruby. Also, pretty bold of you to assume you'd be the leader, Rubes.

Ruby: Why not? I like being a team leader.

Jaune: That makes one of us. I was already barely scraping by as a team leader, and now I have an even bigger team to take care of.

Yang: He said, already months into his role as super leader of his own super harem team.

Ruby: Yang!

Yang: I'm kidding! ...Mostly.

Jaune: What are you- Oh! There she is! Cin-Cin! Over here!

Cin-Cin: ...Hi, Jaune.

Jaune: Hi.

Ruby: ...So, was the, uh, flight okay?

Cin-Cin: It was fine. Can we hurry up and go to the headmaster?

Jaune: Oh, uh, sure.

Cin-Cin: (Walks ahead)

Jaune: (Following behind)

Yang: Wow, she's...

Ruby: Kinda mean?

Pyrrha: Distant?

Yang: I was going to say, "she's not happy to be here," but I guess those work, too.

---------------------------------------------------

Velvet: (Reading)

Fox: Hey, Velvet?

Velvet: Hm? What's up, Fox?

Fox: Uh, just wondering, but are you and Cardin... y'know?

Velvet: (Blushing) W-What do you mean?

Fox: Well, it's just, you and him are getting along and actually talking to each other, so I was wondering...

Velvet: We're just friends, Fox.

Fox: Oh, okay. Just friends. That's good. Good, good, good.

Velvet: ...Is there something wrong with us being friends?

Fox: No, no, it's great, but, uh...

Velvet: ...Did Yatsuhashi put you up to this?

Fox: ...No?

Velvet: Coco?

Coco: He did, Bun-Bun.

Velvet: (Sighs) Why is he so against me and Cardin being friends?

Coco: You mean besides the obvious?

Velvet: He's changed since his first year!

Coco: Which ended a few months ago.

Velvet: (Pouts)

Coco: (Sighs) Fox, could you give us the room, please? And tell Yats I wanna talk to him, too.

Fox: Sure. (Walks out)

Coco: Velvet, listen, I know you like the guy- And before you start, yes, I know it's more than just being friends, but you can't expect your closest friends, us, forget about all the crap him and his cronies put you through. The teasing, the ear-pulling, (Lowers glasses) the comments?

Velvet: I... I didn't forget, but...

Coco: We're all just worried about you, okay, Bun-Bun?

Velvet: ...Okay. But can I please stop having you all mother hen me?

Coco: Only if you stop making us worry. Oh, and don't forget our trip to the mall coming up this weekend.

Velvet: I won't.

Coco: Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got me a gentle giant to talk to.

---------------------------------------------------

Cin-Cin: Again. Who are you?

Jaune: My name is Jaune Arc.

Cin-Cin: Who are you?

Jaune: My name is Jaune Arc. I am the new king of Vale.

Cin-Cin: Who?

Jaune: My name is Jaune Arc. I am the King of Vale. I am the hero of Mallet.

Cin-Cin: I don't know who you are, but you're not convincing anyone. Who are you?

Jaune: My name- Cin-Cin, do we have to-

Cin-Cin: Stop! If you want people to believe you, you have to believe it yourself. And if you want to believe it yourself, then you have to know what you're talking about. So who are you?

Jaune: Who am I? I'm Jaune Arc, the only son of the Arc family and the older brother of Cinnamon Arc. That's who I am.

Cin-Cin: (Turns away, Facepalms) I can't believe you said that with a straight face.

Jaune: (Thinking) Ugh, I probably sounded lame to her.

Cin-Cin: (Covering her cherry face, Thinking) He sounded so cool and confident!.

Pyrrha: Do you think it's going well?

Weiss: Hard to tell... Then again, this is Jaune we're talking about.

Pyrrha: What do you mean?

Weiss: Ever since we learned about his past, he's been adamant about denying it, and yet everything he does contradicts what he says. And that's not including the specifics on what he does.

Weiss: One evening, he's embarrassing the Schnee Dust Company, and the next day, he's besting the leader of the White Fang, only to then go on to lead an amalgamation of two huntsmen teams with no confidence, and emerge from the first joint mission with a massive internationally observed Grimm kill near single-handedly! Nothing about him makes any sense!

Pyrrha: Well, for as long as I've known Jaune, I've found the easiest answer is the most simple one.

Weiss: And that is?

Pyrrha: He's just Jaune being Jaune.

Weiss: Hm... (Looks to Ruby)

Ruby: You can do it, Jaune! Here, try this! (Pulls out paper crown) It's not real, but it'll get you in the right mind thing!

Weiss: I think... I know what you mean.

[mybeingthere]

American artist Katherine Treffinger tells about her life and art:

"I spent my childhood in Sausalito, California in the 50's. It was a magical place, teeming with artists and creative expression. Across the street from our house was one of the coffeehouses where the bohemians came to listen to music, and writers such as Allen Ginsberg, Gary Snyder and Jack Kerouac read from their work.

It was a time when San Francisco, Oakland, Berkeley and Sausalito were home to the abstract expressionist and Bay Area Figurative movements. My missing toys were found in the neighbor's sculptures. I was often on tiptoes, peering into the windows of nearby studios and coffeehouses. I thrived in the wondrous mystery of this world.

Later, as an adult I had the good fortune to befriend Joseph Raffael and spend time in his studio . This was before I realized I wanted to be an artist myself. I was greatly influenced by his enthusiasm, dedication, and his ability to create beauty.

In hindsight, there was nothing else I really wanted to be than an artist. I paint and draw because I love to and because I have to. I am primarily self taught.

When I stand before an empty canvas or piece of paper, I am lost, unaware of what to do. In fact, my most satisfying work comes from staying lost. Navigational confidence is seldom productive for me. Each piece becomes the recording of a unique introspective exploration."

[arcsimper5]

Yaim'ol - Chapter 5 - Endings

yaim'ol - [yai-MOHL] - return, homecoming

Pairing: Sev x F!Jedi OC, Scorch x F!Jedi OC Characters: Delta Squad (Republic Commando), F!Jedi OC Cin Rating: M - Explicit content in later chapters Warnings: Gore, Canon-typical violence, angst, smut (later chapters), descriptions of injury, force osik.

Following on from the end of Republic Commando, Sev and Cin must make their way through the galaxy, overcoming trials and tests in a bid to keep themselves alive long enough to reunite with their squad.

Dedicating this chapter to the lovelt @n0vqni! Thank you for the reblogs and comments!

Cin let out a groan as she woke to the muffled sounds of voices on the other side of the door, attention immediately caught by the modulated tones of Sev’s helmet.

It was a sound she would recognise anywhere, her heart skipping a beat.

The covers next to her were cold already, betraying how long he’d been up for as she pushed the plush covers off of her body and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

Glancing at the plate she’d placed on the table next to the bed, she was glad to see it had been picked clean, smiling softly. At least he’d eaten.

Yawning and stretching, the last remnants of sleep extinguished from her mind, she carefully pulled on her borrowed clothing once more and made for the door, listening carefully.

She could hear at least two wookies on the other side, alongside Sev, her curiosity piqued.

Upon opening the door, however, she froze as a familiar voice rang out, a recording playing on her personal comm between the occupants of the room on the now almost cleared table.

“...  that both our Jedi Order and the Republic have fallen, with the dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place. This message is a warning and a reminder for any surviving Jedi: trust in the Force. Do not return to the Temple. That time has passed, and our future is uncertain. Avoid Coruscant. Avoid detection. Be secret... but be strong. We will each be challenged: our trust, our faith, our friendships. But we must persevere and, in time, I believe a new hope will emerge. May the Force be with you always."

Unable to tear her eyes away, she could feel them prickling as Sev, now wearing only his helmet, still dressed in his blacks and Ollerra and Reikionno turned to her as she emerged.

“Cyare,” Sev began, pulling off his helmet and placing it on the table, stopping his advance when she raised her hand to placate him, “I…”

“It’s okay,” she sighed, the words carrying a weight he didn’t truly understand, “I was going to talk to you about it, but…”

A beat of silence followed, Ollerra and Reik sharing a look before making low sounds to each other, Sev beating Cin to a reply.

“It’s okay, it’s my fault,” he murmured, Cin raising an eyebrow.

“Your helmet’s fixed?” she queried gently, trying to placate them all with a weary smile, one which didn’t quite reach her eyes as they darted to look at the familiar white and red paint, her stomach clenching.

“Mesh’la,” he chastised her, opening his arm to invite her next to him, “don’t… I just needed to know. It… It was all of us, wasn’t it?”

Ollerra made a soft noise, an offer of comfort, and the intention did not seem lost on the commando as he nodded in return.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Cin murmured, averting her gaze to her hands as she sat on the bench next to him, “you… couldn’t control it.”

Sev’s expression turned dark, his eyes narrowing as he reached for her hand, squeezing it in his.

“I tried to kill you, Cin. And I would have done, if you hadn’t snapped me out of it. I don’t care if I had a chip, I… I would never…” He struggled for breath for a moment, his eyes stinging fiercely. “I should have been stronger.”

Reik was immediately on his feet, growling and calling loudly, Sev taking a sharp breath at the suddenness of the outburst.

“He… He says that… fighting the chip almost killed you,” Cin translated, her voice thick with emotion, “that’s why it… it took such a toll. Maker, I…”

Tears rolled down her face as Sev pulled her against him, clutching her tightly.

She couldn’t stop the sobs that wracked her entire body, fingers coming up to tangle in his thick curls.

“I don’t want to hurt you, ever again,” Sev murmured into her hair, silent tears slipping down his own cheeks as he held her, breathing in her scent, “I couldn’t stop it… I tried, I tried so hard…”

“You had a clear line of sight on me at least twice,” she chuckled sadly, not moving from their embrace. Instead, she shifted, settling against his chest, her head tucked underneath his chin. “Twice your shots went wide. That’s how I knew… I knew you were still in there. You don’t miss, Sev, you never have. You were fighting, even when you might not have realised it.”

The commando squeezed her tighter, drawing short, sharp breaths, processing her words.

“The others,” he began slowly, closing his eyes against the torrent of emotion, “they have chips too?”

Cin finally pulled away, meeting his intense honeyed gaze with reddened eyes, her face puffed and tear-stained.

“We… We think it was all of them. Every clone. They alll turned, Sev… The Jedi… they’re all… they’re gone,” she managed, biting her lip to stifle another sob, closing her eyes against the world. “I felt them die, I… I felt it, I heard their screams in the Force. It was… It is tattered, broken. Everything is so dark, I…”

Her breath hitched as Sev pulled away, the bench screeching across the floor as he stood suddenly, slamming his fists down on the table with a low, guttural growl.

More silence followed the outburst, Ollera and Reik looking to Cin, taking in her wide eyed expression as Sev began stalking backwards and forwards.

“I heard the order over comms,” he hissed through gritted teeth, “and I just… lost control. All these years, they taught us to think for ourselves, and one kriffing order, and we’re the mindless meat-droids the seppies said we were.”

Letting out another growl, he turned to glare at his helmet, a sneer crossing his face. He’d been so proud to wear it once, a mark of honour to represent the Republic. Now even the thought of putting it back on made him feel sick.

“How could they let the Republic do this? How could they? And how did…”

“Wait,” Cin cut him off urgently, shock written on her face, “what order?”

Sev fixed her with a frown, tilting his head slightly.

“It was all over the comm chatter. Just repeating one thing; ‘Execute Order 66’.”

“Order 66?” she repeated quietly, more confused than ever, “What even is that?”

Reik made a low rumbling sound, reaching into his toolbelt and producing a small holoprojector and placing it on the table. Within moments, screens of data began scrolling, written in basic; lists upon lists of orders, each worse than the next.

“What the kriff is that?” Sev asked breathlessly, taking a step forward, scanning the orders. “Order 44, destroy all sentient targets within range? Order 52, eliminate direct commanding officer? Kark, this is…”

He trailed off, unable to look any more, his stomach churning.

“All of them, all of our vode,” he gasped, finding oxygen hard to pull from the air, “they all turned? Killed their Jedi? Cody? Gree? Even… even Bly?”

The question hung in the air as Cin nodded in response, more tears flowing freely down her face.

“They didn’t have a choice,” she reminded him quietly, though her answer did not placate him.

Stalking back to the wall, Sev slammed his fist into the hard wood before resuming his pacing, his mind alight with rage.

“And what about the rest of Delta?” he demanded grimly. “If you’d stayed with them, would they have turned on you? Killed you too? Would they have even hesitated?”

“Sev,” Cin pleaded, standing to join him, raising her hands as if speaking to a terrified wild animal, “this wasn’t your fault. None of this was, I don’t think anyone knew.”

“They trained us for years,” Sev protested, voice raising in volume steadily as tears of rage pooled in his eyes, “to follow the Jedi, to trust them, to embrace our connections, and the whole time, the whole kriffing time, we were just waiting for an order to go out to kill you?”

His face was pale, hands trembling by the time he sat back down, Reik responding softly.

“The orders are tied to one individual,” Cin explained as Reik spoke, translating, “a ‘Lord Sideous’.”

She paused, sucking in a breath.

“That’s… it has to be the Sith the council had been hunting for. But who could be… no… wait, I… it can’t be…”

Sliding back onto the bench, she stretched her hand out to Reik, grabbing the datapad from in front of him.

Mere moments later, a holo played, her blood running cold as she sorted through multiple holonet articles, finally finding who she was looking for.

“The Republic is gone,” she breathed, voice shaking, “replaced by an Empire. Headed by… by…”

The video playing explained what she couldn’t bring herself to as the newly decreed Emperor Palpatine flickered into view, his now gnarled, pale face twisting as he spoke.

“The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated! Any collaborators will suffer the same fate. These have been trying times, but we have passed the test. The attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed, but I assure you my resolve has never been stronger. The war is over. The Separatists have been defeated, and the Jedi rebellion has been foiled. We stand on the threshold of a new beginning. In order to ensure our security and continuing stability, the Republic will be reorganised into the first Galactic Empire, for a safe and secure society!”

Sev simply stood, staring as the projector shut down, in complete disbelief.

“It was him, his voice. He’s the one who… who issued Order 66.”

Without another word, Cin pushed herself away from the table, rushing through the doorway into the main hall, Sev moving to follow moments later.

“Cin!”

The wookies outside in the hall parted as she ran through, tears streaming down her face. She needed to get out, to run, to hide, anything to get away from the nightmare the holo had shown her.

It couldn’t be true, it simply couldn’t. It didn’t make any sense… but then again it also made too much sense. Palpatine had been the Sith lord they’d been looking for all alone. Right under their noses. Making bad decision after bad decision, sacrificing lives, all to put him into a higher position of power.

She felt sick.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered Sev calling her name, but she couldn’t stop. If she stopped, she would have to face it.

She saw Tarful stepping aside, his mournful groans telling her all she needed to know as he opened the huge doors to the outside and allowed her to leave the massive compound, watching carefully as she stumbled towards the bannister of the large platform outside, gasping for air.

The cold wind whipped at her face as she collapsed against the fencing, her legs finally giving out. 

“It’s gone,” she gasped to no-one, “how… how is it all gone?”

Footsteps behind her alerted her to another presence, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Part of her had hoped, beyond hope, that the screams in her head, the tearing in the Force, the raw anger and pain had been a trick of some kind, that the uprising against the Jedi had failed.

A foolish sentiment, she admitted to herself. And now she knew. Every clone, every one of them she had called a friend, called her brother, had turned on them, gunned them down in cold blood. Every one of them would be gunning for her, would kill her without hesitation.

All of them, except for Sev, who approached her cautiously, movements slow and deliberate.

“They’re all dead,” she sobbed, sinking to sit on the hard, wooden floor, her knees brought up to her chest as she finally let the pain sink in, chilling her in a way the cold never could, “the Jedi… my masters, my friends…”

Sev carefully lowered himself to sit next to her, unsure what to do.

His anger had faded to concern for his lover, a hand settling on her forearm in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

“Everything I’ve ever known,” she continued, words punctuated by sharp breaths, “I… I didn’t want to… I never thought… the Jedi could fall. How could this happen, how?”

Finally, she managed to look up at Sev, the utter despair in her expression ripping the breath from his lungs.

“They took me from my home, from my family, trained me, sent me to war, and for what? H-How did we miss this? How did… how did we miss a Sith lord, right in front of us all of these years?”

Unsure how to answer, Sev simply let out a deep, shuddering sigh, drawing her into his arms wordlessly.

“It’s all gone,” she murmured again, anger seeping into her words, “the only home I ever knew, gone. I grew up on Coruscant, I saw it grow, saw it prosper, saw it burn through this war. All this death, for one man to command everything.”

Anger turned to pure rage, her body trembling in Sev’s hold. She couldn’t begin to fathom the unfairness of it all, the urge to return to Coruscant, to attack, to avenge pulsing through her. It was a ridiculous notion, she knew, but the need was real, to bring balance once more.

The balance was utterly gone, darkness permeating the Force so utterly. Even now, it echoed with the death cries of thousands of Jedi; Masters, initiates, younglings.

Maker… They’d killed them all.

“What do we do now?” she sniffed uselessly, looking up at Sev with such a desperate look, he could only shake his head in response.

“I… don’t know,” he admitted, clutching her a little tighter. 

For the first time in years, he was alone. No orders, no brothers, no mission.

It was foreign, it was terrifying. He could only imagine how Cin felt. Her entire order was gone, the world she knew falling apart around her. He didn’t know much about the Force, but he swore, on some level, he could feel her pain, her loneliness.

He may not have known what to do, but he made a silent promise as Tarful, Ollerra and Reik appeared in the doorway, flanked by multiple other wookies, coming to find them.

Whatever happened next, he would not leave her. They would stick together. Until the end.

[youngtomhardy]

Me on film by Cin Lona in Los Angeles, CA.

I haven’t had a place where I can endlessly type out thoughts for awhile… I wanna tell you what’s really been going on behind the scenes with my career. The highs, lows and everything in between. If you followed me here, you’re a true medranhoe. These might be long, but I hope you find these interesting. <3 Here’s my story so far…

After releasing Fluids & going viral on twitter a few times, I was found by a team parented by Epic Records in 2020. In hindsight, it’s better that I never officially signed. We had our first meeting on March 15, 2020, can you believe? The next day, the world shut down and I didn’t hear from them for months. They had just spent a shit ton of money on lunch with me where they told me they were gonna put me on tour as an opener, promised me Rock in Rio within the first 2 years of working, and a huge deal with the parent company. I was devastated when the lockdowns started, but I understood. We were all scared.

Eventually we got to talking again and tried to work during the pandemic. The music industry collapsed and TikTok became the way to break artists. So they encouraged me to get on there & start making content. Then they linked me up with a personal trainer. Took care of the costs, put it onto my development budget. In between, they’d whisk me away to estates in Palm Springs, 5 star hotels in Venice, insanely expensive dinners in LA’s art district. It was a dream come true, it was too good to be true. I predicted this would happen in my teen years. I feel like I’ve already seen my life happen, but that’s for another post.

From there, I wrote a radio top 40 single with AJ, got my first sync deals, got Fluids in front of Mike Dean and a couple other huge name producers (they all love the song by the way) and started working on my album with my co-producer Dan. He’s gone on to work with BTS and Noah Cyrus which is fucking amazing & honestly will be a great little quip for press when my album drops. A win is a win. The songs are great, we worked on 5 songs together for the record.

Slowly but surely, things looked less and less promising with the team. Texts and calls got less frequent, my personal training sessions were cancelled. I knew what was happening. Another part of my story I’d already foreseen. Even through all of this, they remained so kind & supportive, for which I’m grateful. Regardless, I could feel them pulling away and that hurt.

In spite of going viral on tiktok over and over again, my streams and listeners rapidly rising, the deal never happened. It hurt so fucking bad. I cried and screamed and raged and ranted to anyone who would listen. I’m still not fully over it, but I have a little more clarity & peace now. It wasn’t my fault & I know this is common in the industry, but I guess I was just really hoping to bypass that part of the story. I’ve always been an impatient fuck.

So I picked myself up like always do and said fine, I’ll drop this album myself. Started the rollout and the music got attention from bigger names. All. By. Myself. Personal Heaven dropped and it got to Slayyyter. She told me she loved the song, wanted a session with me, and we became friends. She’s the first pop star in the industry that went out of her way to be kind & work with me. I’ve always admired her so much, I really hope one of the songs we worked on (or will work on) comes out one day. I’m seriously so grateful for her friendship.

Then I started working with Funk LeBlanc and we made a song that was an instant success with fans. ‘Do Your Thing, Babe!’ went viral 5 times all in different scales. The lowest viewed tiktok had 60k, the highest almost half a million. Labels got into my email again, ranging from EMI (they ghosted me after 1 email — why i’ll never know — but that one hurt) to smaller indie efforts. A new team reached out to me, this time with ties to Columbia. A dream label of mine. I’m still working with the imprint label now, but things are a little more low key. No promises of deals, no expensive dinners, no parties, just little meetings here and there — a friendship almost. I don’t know if this is better or not, but it feels good and genuine. They love the music, the image, and I really am so thankful to my first team for helping me curate that side of myself.

So now, I spend my days going to sessions, doing quick jobs for extra cash, playing with my puppy, and working out. Kim Petras recently followed me and I don’t really know why but I love her & hope it’s for my music. I’m hoping to get into sessions with her one day too, maybe a collab? Hopefully. I just gotta really make my mark. I may not be where I want to, but my god am I further along than where I was. My project is finally out in January. My heart once broken is finally healing. For the first time in a long time, the future looks bright and I’m happy.

- Disco Dad.

[whiskeyswriting]

Welcome Little Loves

Nathaniel Miguel Seresin

DOB: August 13 | Time: 3:27pm

Length: 18.5 inches | Weight: 5 pounds 4 ounces

Marcus Bradley Seresin

DOB: August 13 | Time: 3:31pm

Length: 18 inches | Weight: 5 pounds 10 ounces

•‧:❤️:‧:❤️:‧•

August 13. The day that the rest of their lives started.

The Dagger Squad, along with the Chaos Squad were all waiting in the hospital lobby waiting to here that the Seresin twins were born.

Once they see Jake, Viper and Cindy are the first to stand and go see Alana and the boys.

After they leave, Jake comes get Baylie and Grace along with Mickey and Bradley. “The aunts and uncles are next.”

Caroline was sleeping in Mav’s arms.

Cin smiles sleepily at the four of them. “Hi… I want you to meet Nathaniel Miguel and Marcus Bradley.”

Jake was grinning and recording their reactions. The other two couples it took them a second for the middles names to hit them.

“We have each boy the middle name of his godfather,” Alana says. “Babies meet the other people that will always be there for you.”

Grace, who was still hormonal from giving birth to Caroline, and Baylie, who now was a few months along, both started crying happy tears. Mickey and Bradley each took “their” baby and were carrying them. Mickey also cried at hearing the middle name. Bradley will say he didn’t cry but he did get emotional.

Eventually, everyone got to meet the twins and congratulate the new parents. Alana closed her eyes to sleep knowing that her babies will ups always feel the love and protection of a family.

•‧:❤️:‧:❤️:‧•

The Usual Suspects: @askmarinaandothers @bayisdying @breadsquash @callmemana @callsignscupcake @chipperxbaby @cycbaby @dragon-kazansky @gracespicybradshaw @ladylanera @starlit-epiphany

[abybweisse]

This (x), and what you mention of UT’s ashes, has me realising I should ask a professional on my thoughts (and what would be most correct to canon) about the reapers.

Do you think the “rebirth” is immediate or does the body have to decompose first? That would imply their bodies are cloned/reinvented, right? Or are they resurrected from their mortal bodies, made immortal, which could perhaps have inspired UT with the bizarre dolls, if he’d discovered the event?

If it’s immediate, I can imagine them (a reaper, or countless reapers, perhaps each unaffiliated to one another) easily digging up their own bodies and perhaps then breaking down—if they’re then deemed unfit to be working reapers, temporary or otherwise, then surely there’s a ward for this specific thing? If anything happens to the body, does something then happen to them, as their soul/spirit (I assume that’s what reapers are, in essence)?

(Not necessarily correlating with this, but can’t Death Scythes also kill/fatally harm/etc. other reapers? Surely that’s not a a great system, unless they’re successfully rehabilitated first.)

Anyway—sorry if you’ve already answered this or something like it. Hope you’re having a lovely day/night <3

⚠️ LONG POST ⚠️

Some details about reaper rebirth theory

Professional? 😂 Nahhhh.... But I have been talking about Undertaker's potential death by fire since at least 2017. 😯 And reaper rebirth theory is a subject I like nearly as much as Mother3 theory.

Anyway, let's break this down into its parts.

1. Would the rebirth be immediate, or would they have to decompose?

There are different ways Yana-san could approach this, if she has decided that reapers go through karmic reincarnation. Grelle says something odd in ch10, suggesting that the "memories" are also removed...

...but I think Grelle just means after where "END" ends up going when a reaper makes the cut.

The way I see it, Undertaker gives us a better clue in ch60.

There might be some exceptions to this, particularly if Othello and others in the forensics lab get occasional bodies and/or brains to "dig around in".

But, for the most part, bodies and their brains (containing the cinematic records of things that already happened plus things the human had hoped for) stay in the human realm. I should think this also typically applies to suicides. Undertaker might even be able to make bizarre dolls from suicides, and that might technically be the case with Layla/Al. There's a really strong case for Layla/Al being the daughter of Baron Chris Heathfield... and for her causing the "accident" that took her and her mother's lives. He only needs access to the body and the cinematic records. Grelle cannot mean that reapers take all the memories; Undertaker wouldn't be able to manipulate cinematic records that are completely gone.

Here's the biggest kicker: William and others have made it clear that reapers don't judge the souls of the dying, they just decide whether to end the life and collect the soul. Grelle uses the word "judge", but it's only to decide who dies when, not whether the soul will go to Heaven, Hell, Limbo, Purgatory, the reaper realm, etc.

And even then it's only a formality, according to William. The soul is sent "up" or "over" for judgment by some higher power, like an angel. Could even be the same beings the reapers call their "higher-ups" or "superiors". This means reapers wouldn't really have the authority (or even the ability) to just see a suicide and turn that body (with its cinematic records and soul) into a fellow reaper. It's a bureaucracy, after all!

What the reaper would likely do -- and I've explained this in older posts about #reaper rebirth theory and #karmic reincarnation -- is collect and send the soul for judgment, actually make notes or comments on their death entry (something we have yet to witness them do) about cause of death being something self-inflicted, and then mark it "complete" (as usual)... because that's the extent of their jurisdiction, so to speak.

The body and the brains (with the cinematic records) would probably be left there to be dealt with by humans (or to just rot where it is). However, it's possible that this sort of situation gets one major exception: the reaper might have to collect and send the cinematic records, too, if new reaper bodies need a sort of "seed" record to build off of. Like... if a reaper needs memories of their previous life (or of their death) in order for them to maintain a sense of deserving punishment for how they died. That sort of thing.

And it seems important (to me) that all reapers be made by the same process. Not all suicide methods leave the same sort of useable corpse, right? They could blow themselves to smithereens, burn to nearly ashes, splat themselves to mush, shoot their brains out, or any number of other gruesome methods that effectively destroy the brain to the point their bodies could not be used to house their reaper selves.

An "easy solution" to this would be to make all suicides go through karmic reincarnation. If people are born with souls placed into them to begin with... and some people claim to have had multiple lives as humans... then why not just place the judged souls of suicides into the bodies of babies that are about to be born? Of course, these wouldn't be human babies but reaper ones. Those phosphorescent but nearsighted eyes. The inter-dimensional traveling abilities. The unnatural speed and agility. Who knows what other abilities they have... that Yana-san hasn't yet shown us. To me, these are not merely human bodies that have been altered after death.

So, to answer the first question in a TL/DR sort of way: it's not immediate, nor do the bodies have to decompose first. Who cares what happens to the original bodies, if the souls get placed into completely new ones? But! This means the souls have to be judged (by someone higher up than reapers), and that unborn baby reaper bodies need to be available (developing) to receive these souls. This is not immediate. Potentially, some judged suicide souls could be waiting in storage of some kind for a proper vessel to become available!

2. Are their bodies cloned/reinvented?

I have no idea if the new reaper babies are otherwise like the old bodies these suicides once had. They might grow up to look the same or not.

I suspect that Yana-san would want for these reapers to be stuck with bodies (including their ASAB) that at least remind them of the bodies they once had as humans. Because it forces them to not only live out a long punishment doing the work they do... but to do this in bodies that might have had something to do with their original decision to end their lives (like extremely negative body image).

3. Are they resurrected from their mortal bodies, made immortal?

It's something Yana-san could end up saying is true of her grim reapers, but for the big reason given above (destruction of some bodies, depending on suicide method used), I think it makes the most sense to automatically leave the old bodies behind and just reuse the old souls (plus perhaps at least bits and pieces of the old cinematic records). That gives each reaper as close to a "clean slate" as possible.

4. Would this have been what inspired Undertaker to make his Bizarre Dolls?

Reapers being made from their old bodies and made immortal? I don't think so. Mostly because 1. Reapers have souls while Bizarre Dolls don't (yet!) and 2. My theory states that reapers have new bodies, while we know Bizarre Dolls are made from dead bodies.

The biggest comparison between reapers and Bizarre Dolls (as they are now), in my reaper rebirth theory, is that cinematic records are definitely manipulated in Bizarre Dolls and are probably manipulated in reapers. Not just from their beginnings as reapers... but also possibly once they begin active reaper duty (if they misbehave enough to be severely punished). And that could have greatly influenced Undertaker's experimentation. I can sort of simplify the differences this way:

Low-end Bizarre Dolls = old body + old cinematic records + new cinematic records that are nonsense (like Undertaker dancing). These are how they were while on the Campania, including real Ciel at the time.

Mid-range Bizarre Dolls = old body + maybe some new organs + old cinematic records + a few sections of old cinematic records removed from before "END" and reattached after "END". This would include Arden, his pals, Agares, and real Ciel at the time of the events at Weston. Arden and his buddies just didn't have high quality "future memories" to use as "episodes". Real Ciel was "shock full" of them, but Undertaker was still working on manipulating them (moving them from before to after "END").

Advanced Bizarre Dolls = old bodies + probably some new organs + old cinematic records + lots of "future memories" moved around to become "episodes" + a blood supply that must be replenished on a regular basis. This is real Ciel and the other three "lords of the stars" right now. But Othello says they are imperfect... and that Undertaker is probably trying to fix whatever's wrong.

Ultimate Bizarre Dolls = old bodies + probably some new organs + old cinematic records + all those chunks of cinematic records rearranged into "episodes" + a blood supply that can now be cleaned and replaced as needed internally + whatever was missing before + new cinematic records they are now creating on their own. I don't think it's quite as simple as needing a new kidney, because it seems that Undertaker would have figured that out and found kidney matches already from fresh corpses. You don't get your pawns talking about the "shapes of souls" unless you are looking for soul matches. So, I think a soul is the thing that's missing; the thing Undertaker now wants to add. This should allow them to truly be "alive" and make their own cinematic records again. Heathfield and Jane talked about getting one for Heathfield's dead wife. I think that was mostly to keep Heathfield busy while Undertaker searched for souls to transplant into the four "lords".

Much like how Undertaker got a laugh out of Stoker believing what Undertaker was doing is "science", I expect him to eventually crack up in front of our earl... while explaining how stupid Heathfield is for believing you can judge the shape of one's soul by how they behave in bed! On the other hand, I really do think F. O. L. Orphanage is actively shaping young souls to fit into the "lords": Pomeranian class for real Ciel, Corgi class for Doll, Collie class for Layla/Al, and Mastiff class for whoever Polaris turns out to be (I theorize he's a Phantomhive butler who died in the attack nearly four years prior). It's probably crucial that you start with a young soul; not only is their body young, but this is that soul's first body to inhabit. Their souls are most-malleable! It's possible Undertaker got this idea from realizing Sebastian uses a similar technique to "season" our earl's soul to prepare him as a "meal". Sebastian cultivates our earl's soul with everything the kid experiences. And here's a nice little agricultural term for it: Undertaker might have gleaned this information from examining what he saw of Sebastian's cinematic records on the Campania.

*coughs* Anyway.

Reapers = new body + old soul + parts of their old cinematic records + the new cinematic records they make in their new bodies + who knows how much manipulation to their cinematic records to keep them in line or redirect their behaviors.

Basically, Undertaker's ultimate goal might be to create something that's a LOT like a reaper, but starting with a corpse instead of a new body... and then adding a soul from someone else with similar (but forced) life experiences. The other reapers already think what he's doing with cinematic records is crazy. Adding a blood supply sure has Othello's attention, and he has once been considered the crazy one around HQ.... When the reaper organization finds out where Undertaker plans to go with it? Adding used souls? Absolute abomination! Some of them perhaps not realizing just how similar they really are....

What makes Bizarre Dolls such an abomination to the reaper organization? 1. They are made with corpses instead of new bodies/babies, 2. It's being done by a rogue reaper instead of something considered "superior" to reapers (like angels), and 3. If they get souls taken from others, this really messes up soul collection and judgement procedures. If reapers were made from the corpses of suicides, they might not see the problem with #1 but only with #2 and #3. However, Grelle and Ronald make it very clear that corpses should not be moving around. Therefore, I highly doubt that reapers are "moving corpses", even with their own souls in place.

5. Is there a ward for reapers who try to destroy their old remains?

Nah. In my theory, by the time they are old enough to be "recruited" for active reaper duties to begin, their human remains would typically be quite decomposed. Even if they originally left behind an exquisite corpse -- but not in the usual sense of the phrase -- I actually mean a corpse in very good shape. 😆

6. If something happens to the old body, does something happen to the reaper, since they are the soul?

I've come to take what Undertaker says as the honest truth, in this case. The old body and brain stay in the human realm to rot.

But the reaper that will be isn't simply rotting away. The new body and old soul are completely physically detached from that previous life. The shape of the reaper's soul is still largely based on its experiences from its previous human life, though, since it spent however many years in that human body and experiencing all that it did during those years. Otherwise, the reaper wouldn't care about redemption (or as Sascha says "forgiveness"), would they? Back to the idea of children being malleable, the best place for putting an old soul would be into a body that has experienced essentially nothing yet. Right?

Badda bing badda boom.

Rebirth theory Reaper = damaged and hardened old soul placed into a new body (vessel), which has the potential to fit any soul. That new body grows to harden around the old soul, making the reaper a lot like they were before, as a human... in personality and also possibly in appearance. (It fits well with my theory that Sebastian looks so much like Vincent and occasionally acts like younger real Ciel simply because the summoned demon ate real Ciel's soul before taking a human form.)

7. Aside: can't death scythes kill reapers?

They sure can! Grelle says they can cut "anything", including other dimensions... which means that demons and reapers can be killed, if the hit is hard enough or well-aimed. In Kuromyu2, that's how both Alan and Eric die as reapers. Alan's death should be filed away as an accident, but Eric technically dies as "suicide by demon". It's possible that he comes back as a reaper again, having to redo his punishment from scratch!

Of course, we know death scythes don't cut each other, which makes you wonder how Undertaker got those special scissor blades for Layla/Al. Where did he get the same material that death scythes are made from? Did he steal other death scythes and just modify them into weapons for the "lords"? 🤔 Or... has Undertaker simply taught Layla/Al how to fend off death scythes that rely on rotation? Because that's what Sebastian does to Grelle's death scythe with a wool coat. Could be a regular pair of scissors.

I also wonder how many reapers have tried to end their punishments with their own or other reapers' death scythes. Hopefully they realize it would not help their situations... unless they truly believe that death scythes can destroy a soul. Seems silly, considering they use death scythes to collect souls all the time without destroying them. Meh. The wording in the first few volumes is unclear. I think Grelle means how death scythes are used to cut the soul out of the body... not that they can be used to cut up souls themselves.

[disease]

EVERY MAN HAS YOUR VOICE FORT ROMEAU | SGL, NOV 2022

[merchantofwhispers]

Mina, Cinead looks like he eats good pussy but looks and be deceiving. Care to set the record straight? Has it been very long since the last time he has? If he ever has?

"Oh, he certainly has. Cin's mouth was the first piece of him I came to know intimately. He is-... Ravenous in that particular desire and there's hardly a time he's visited where I haven't enjoyed that aspect of his love making. In fact, only a few weeks ago I found myself bent over the kitchen counter with his nose-.. Well, you can imagine the rest I'm sure."

[cindol]

I’ve said this before but if you truly hate me please unmoot me and unfollow, I do not like fake animosity to me for no reason.

[a-drop-of-nightshade]

Lost had been told not to use his hoverboard int too public places, and most of all not to use the dynamic boost he had re-engineered from stasis, but when he found out his mom got caught by his great grandfather he had hit Alice and Skull with stasis and been out the door and taking off before anyone could even stop him. He had his bat strapped to his back as he just flew and then he hit the dynamic boost and all he was was a blue blur of light as he flew to his grandfathers estates in record time.

He could feel the shadows creeping closer, reaching, wanting him to give into his rage but then his eyes glowed like flames and he held up a hand, a plain silver metal cuff melted off his wrist as he circled the estate and it took the form of a blank mask with a blue star on its forehead. He used it to cover his face and just like Cin taught him he stoked his magic inside him to protect himself from the shadows.

@izzyfromdeadspace

[cinamun]

Hey Cin!!!! 😊💖

List 5 facts about a favorite sim of yours, and send this to simblrs whose sims you adore ✨️

Thank you friend!!! Ok let's see...

I've been thinking about Maple "Pip" Greenwood lately... (Rip)

Before she passed, she left behind a box of love letters and the petals of the first rose she ever got from Calvin. The box is buried beneath the big oak tree behind the chicken coop.

2. No one has found that box yet.

3. She could clean and scale a fish in record time and actually won a few competitions for it.

4. Never got that first place ribbon at the Finchwick Fair

5. Was very very ticklish