#and asked them why they were doing this repeatedly

[sgiandubh]

He was at Three Sheets yesterday night with Ashley. Check their respective stories

Dear Three Sheets Anon,

Your information is correct. What I meant by 'nothing to do with Ashley Hearn' in my post is a bit different, though. Ashley has been in London for a while already, obviously for sales & marketing purposes. She clearly posted about it and even suggested she will be in Scotland soon. But she is not the reason he is in London these days. She already successfully toured several bar outlets by herself, using her own business contacts, in New York and elsewhere: meeting her boss while in London is absolutely normal and nothing to write home about. But not the main reason he is in London right now, I think.

So it would seem they met at the Three Sheets Bar, yesterday.

S's IG story:

[Later edit]: Ashley's IG story - too bad I interrupted myself to get a delivery and then lost this thread:

S tagged both the bar and SS's IG accounts. This is a routine business meeting, especially considering the Three Sheets also deals in business consulting:

They have two outlets in London, one in Dalston and the other in Soho. Both have excellent reviews and well, the expected price range for cocktails in London (10-20 £ ):

Your ask also gives me the opportunity to come forward with several things I have been keeping in my drawers for a while, so thank you for that. Kind of.

Remember (LOOOL and then some more for that, always) my through the grapevine info that C joined S and the team at Milady's bar in New York, on October 17 2024, after the Versace Armani event she attended with Maria McManus? I also remember the Without Pix Anon:

Well, I don't have 'pix' , but I do have the next best thing (gracias a ti, siempre ❤️):

Ashley liked what C posted on October 25, 2024. One full week after the Milady's get together - why would she, if C wasn't there at all, like all the Righteous Pundits lie to you?

She also briefly followed her on IG, but not anymore (why? I will let you draw your own conclusions), along with several OL cast members (followed all of them at the same moment, after the event): Rankin, John Bell and Skeleton. Bell and Skeleton were at that get together, too (unsure about Rankin? it's Saturday, after all and I am not the Metropolitan Police, either - please correct me if I am wrong). She still follows them on IG. Clearly they met there?

The second thing I wanted to bring along is Maximum Wobbler Bullshit's recent nonsense:

This impostor and mythomaniac I have repeatedly debunked in the past still has very scant English, negligent writing skills at best and no damn idea about what marketing means. She was completely triggered by this particular post, on November 5, 2024 (while almost everyone was looking elsewhere, for obvious reasons):

Featured in the pic is Mia Kumari, a good friend of Ashley Hearn. Maximum Wobbler Bullshit conveniently forgets to explain who Mia Kumari is:

Based in London, UK and currently mixing at the Satan's Whiskers bar in Bethnal Green (after a short spell at The Savoy, hello?), she is a well-known, up-and-coming bartender with a consistent record of awards:

The press is raving about her:

[Full article, here: https://foodism.co.uk/features/long-reads/women-london-bar-scene/]

She is also a feminist bartender, with an internationally praised agenda:

[Mia was last week in Greece, as guest speaker at the very prestigious Athens' Bar Week. Too bad I left: I would have certainly bought a ticket and gladly listened to what she had to say - https://www.athensbarshow.gr/guest-speakers/mia-kumari]

Surely a trailblazer 'in London’s dynamic and globally revered bar industry', who also is 'an advocate for equality, diversity and inclusion' does not need Sassenach Spirits to promote herself. She is doing a smashing job at it, like the pro she clearly is: on trend, progressive, sought after and more than noticed. I fail to see where the fuck the alleged cronyism is, because that would simply mean Mia Kumari is a social zero, a nobody in the UK's spirits industry, taking advantage of her friendship with Ashley Hearn in order to get more attention for her sole benefit. That is a lie and that is simply wrong: if anything, it is Sassenach Spirits that needed to prominently feature someone like Mia Kumari, in order to align itself to the values she is so actively promoting (all values C is sensitive to, hmmm). We are miles away, here, from the Cutty Sark wannabe (in)famous Labour Day boat party in Marina del Rey, featuring the BBC/Blue Bikini Chick, back in September 2023 (https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/727347023165145088/its-all-fake-anyway), when all the fandom trolls were on fire. So, Sassenach Spirits needed to do exactly something along these lines, in order to promote and boost the seasonal Xmas sales of their tartan scarves, SS's most expensive merch, targeting a younger, more sophisticated urban crowd.

Clever brands constantly redefine themselves, looking for the right trends and the right crowds to promote their products to. This is a clear sign that finally adults are in the room, now, at SS's Marketing and Sales respective departments. So damn glad to see this welcome shift!

[koji-haru]

Time Travel AU Part: 21

The sun had sunk into the horizon twice before Michael could finally see the wooden surface of his desk, the ivory towers of paper that used to observe his work now gone and neatly filed away. Sera was none too pleased with him once he finally returned to Heaven under the veil of night, much too late than he had initially planned. It didn’t help that he didn’t particularly have any acceptable excuse, at least according to Heaven, nor was Michael inclined to lie about his recent exploits. The end result? A steady stream of work that made Michael fully aware of the possible horrors of eternity. Sera wasn’t necessarily upset about him skipping work for over a day, it did make her a little unhappy, but what truly ruffled her feathers was the fact that Michael suddenly went missing without any explanation for an extended period of time. And because Michael could see and admit his own faults, he simply accepted the punishment, given in the form of extra work, handed to him by Sera. 

Click clack click clack. A steady rhythm sounded on Michael’s wooden desk as he tapped his pen on it repeatedly, his mind busy with thoughts speeding past each other. He was contemplating going to Sera’s office and inform her of his finished work and he intended to do afterwards, but another part of him wasn’t particularly on board with that idea. What if she would decide to simply give him more work to do? Considering his schedule was now ‘free’. But then not informing her of anything was what got him in trouble in the first place. Michael pinched the bridge of nose as he let out an exhausted sigh. Damn him for being a little too dutiful; he decided to inform Sera anyway of his now free schedule, and just hoped that two full sunsets were enough of a time for her anger to have cooled down. 

“Come in,” answered Sera after hearing a soft knock on her office door. 

With a click, the door opened ever so slowly, revealing Michael’s sheepish figure one by one. He stood there a little awkwardly for a moment before breaking the uncomfortable silence. “So. I’ve finished all of my work.” A pause. He looked around the office and then back at Sera who had her gaze fixed on the paperwork on her desk. “Just thought I’d let you know.”

“I still can’t believe you have affections for the first man, and he requited,” Sera said as she put her quill and the paper down onto her desk, her gaze unreadable.

“Ah, yes, well– It’s–,” Michael stopped his mumbling, taking a deep breath so that he could formulate his words much better. “We’re testing the waters.” Or well, Adam was. For Michael was resolute about his feelings, having accepted them long ago. The first man, on the other hand, while he seemed to return the archangel’s affections, seemed to still be rather unsure about committing. But that was alright for Michael, he didn’t mind; he could understand why Adam was reluctant, considering his past commitments. That, and Michael was patient, he always would be for Adam.

“You really are siblings, huh?” Sera commented, her face still impassive and unreadable. 

“Sorry?”

“You’re almost as odd as your brother,” Sera clarified.

“Is that a good thing or..?,” Michael asked, unsure how to feel about Sera’s sudden comments. 

“It has its appeal,” answered Sera. “Though I do find it odd that you both fell for the first humans.”

A slight frown formed on Michael’s lips, his brows knitted together, a serious look in his eyes. “Is that what you’re truly angry about?,” he asked, his tone defensive. He wasn’t backing down on this one; he could admit any wrongdoings he might’ve done, but this wasn’t one of them, and he refused to be told otherwise.

Sera smiled lightly. “No, I was mad about you missing without notice, not that.” She sat straighter on her seat, hands clasped together, a soft yet worried look on her face. “I just find it ironic, you two brothers,” she clarified. “Anyway, I’m actually happy for the first man. Humans are made to be social after all, and a companion would do him some good. That, and I was hoping you could finally convince him to ascend to Heaven.”

Michael sighed, somehow feeling even more than before. “I told you already that he’s adamant about staying in the garden.”

“Just consider it. It would do you both good to be able to stay together for longer without having to skip duties,” Sera said, a smile that didn’t reach her eyes painted on her face. 

“Right.” It was clear to Michael that Sera was still unhappy with what he did, so he simply kept his words short, unwilling to tip the scales further. “Well, if there’s nothing else…”

“Oh, go on ahead.” Sera waved him away as she picked up her work again. “At least this time we know of your whereabouts.”

—-

Michael fluttered stutteringly in the sky, looking like he was about to crash, before landing clumsily just a few feet from Adam, who was currently sitting on the grass with Amora laying her head on his lap. He stumbled closer towards the first man with wobbly legs, almost tripping over his own feet as his exhaustion seemed to become heavier and heavier with every movement he made. 

“Oh hey, where have you been?,” Adam asked, a small grin playing on his lips as the archangel continued to lumber towards him, somehow looking even paler than he usually was. “You look like a zombie.”

Once he was near enough, Michael flopped down on his knees, pushing Amora off Adam’s lap before tiredly wrapping his arms around Adam’s waist and shoulder. “What’s a zombie?,” he asked after a moment, his eyes closed as he tried to relax within Adam’s presence.

“Uh.” Adam wasn’t sure how to react to…this. Michael hadn’t been overtly touchy with him before, it was…odd, but that he found himself not disliking it at all. “It’s just something I made up, don’t worry about it,” he waved off, his voice a little stiff from embarrassment. 

“Okay.” Michael wrapped his arms around Adam even tighter, snuggling his face even closer towards Adam’s abdomen, his eyes closed to fully immerse himself in the embrace. The garden’s warm air and serene atmosphere combined with the first man’s scent and presence so close to him worked like a magic greater than any belonging to the angels up in Heaven. Days of exhaustion and tedium sloughing off his skin, his muscles, his bones and down to his very core. A content sigh escaped from his lips as he felt the burden of heavenly work slip away from him. “I missed you,” he said, voice full of sincerity.

A bright red hue quickly spread all over Adam’s face over Michael’s bold and overt display of affection. An uncomfortable heat clung to his cheeks as his heart raced wildly in his chest; he tried his best to frown, to push the mushy feelings down to be kept hidden in a box covered in dirt six feet under, just so he could be annoyed at himself for behaving so greenly. In the end, the only thing he accomplished was to hug back the angel so closely attached to him, rubbing his hand up and down the angel’s back in a soothing manner. A silent reply to Michael’s admittance. 

“It has been quiet these last two days,” he mumbled, though as soon as he said it, he felt like taking it immediately back and then bash his head against the toughest tree he could find in the garden. 

Michael pulled away a little, just so he could gaze upon Adam’s beautifully sculpted face. He could hear and feel the first man’s rapidly beating heart against him, and his face told the entire story – so prettily pink with golden eyes simmering beneath the surface from the warmth Michael caused within him. A proud smile crept on the angel’s lips, happy that he was the one to cause such an honest reaction from the first man. Though it began slowly, one by one, Adam was allowing himself to be more honest with himself in Michael’s presence. For Adam to be willing to share his vulnerabilities, pieces of himself, was something that Michael would forever hold dearly for eternity. 

“W-what are you looking at me like that for?,” asked Adam, getting even redder as Michael held him so tenderly and preciously within the deep blue of his eyes. A gaze so loving he didn’t know what to do with it – it had been so long since someone looked at him this way. 

“Nothing, just appreciating the scene,” answered Michael, his smile growing even wider as he noticed the flush across Adam’s face growing brighter. Though, he supposed he should ease up a bit seeing as how Adam seemed to be ready to– 

As Michael had predicted, an unfinished woven mat was thrown over his face, obscuring his entire vision of the outside world, hearing only Adam’s embarrassed grumble above him. He suppressed the urge to chuckle, not wanting to push his human too much lest he be kicked out of the comfortable position Adam had allowed him to reside in.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologised, attempting to placate his human’s embarrassed fury, as he pulled the mat off of his face. Gazing once more upon Adam’s still flushed face, he suppressed the urge to do something more. “It’s just that Sera hasn’t been particularly lenient with me lately,” he explained, his head still comfortably resting upon Adam’s lap.

Adam snorted, a little pout on his lips, “Well, maybe you deserved it.”

“I did deserve it a little,” Michael agreed. “The hot drink you taught me about did save me though. What was it called again? Tea?”

“Yup, and I gave you green tea to bring,” Adam confirmed. “You liked it that much?,” he asked, his prior embarrassment quickly fading away at the mention of a new topic.

“I like it a lot, though I found that if I use really hot water, it becomes bitter but also keeps me feeling energetic for longer,” answered Michael. “Which is great. I like the bitterness and it keeps me running for longer. I don’t think I would’ve survived Sera without it.”

Adam paled a little bit. Great, he just introduced caffeine to a workaholic. “How much of the tea leaves do you have left?”

“Oh! I was just about to ask.” Michael fished for the pouch Adam had given him before in his pockets, showing its empty content to the human. “Can I ask for more? The other angels also seem to like it.”

Suddenly, an idea, brighter than any halo, sparked in Adam’s head. “Sure, I made plenty. Bring as much as you like,” he smiled mischievously. If they liked it so much, then Adam was willing to share as much as they liked, and also very much willing to hear news from his insider (Michael) of the interesting consequences of his gift.

Michael beamed at Adam’s answer, believing that his human was just simply so sweet and generous. He would have to repay his generosity in kind one day. 

This was nice. Snuggling up to the centre of his affections, breathing in the relaxing air of the garden of Eden, soaking in the warming rays of the sun as he spent his time away in the close presence of the first man. He felt like he was home. No, it wasn’t the garden that was necessarily home to him, but simply living a life together with Adam. Any time he spent with the first man felt like a perfectly fitting puzzle piece as if he was exactly where he was meant to be.

He looked back up at Adam, who had decided to continue weaving leaves for his craft, unsure if he should ask again knowing what the answer would most likely be. “Maybe I shouldn’t overstay next time.”

“Sera scarred you that badly, huh?,” Adam chuckled, remembering how terrifying the seraphim could be if the right buttons were pushed. He would know, he pushed a lot of buttons.

“Maybe,” Michael replied, a small smile forming on his lips before fading away quickly as he readied his suggestion. “There would be days where I simply could not stay for long or not even visit,” he started. “Wouldn’t those days be lonely for you too?”

Adam stopped the work he was doing to focus his attention back on the angel laying on his lap. A sigh escaped from him, he understood what Michael was hinting at. “The garden can be a little uneventful on my own,” he admitted. “But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

A small frown formed on Michael’s previously hopeful face, not so much out of sadness, but out of genuine confusion and curiosity at Adam’s unwavering adherence to the garden. Yes, the garden was paradise precisely made for humans, but surely now that he was the only human in it, Heaven should look rather favourable to him, especially since it actually had other inhabitants in it that were at least at his level of communication and understanding. And as beautiful as the garden of Eden was, it only offered Adam animals as companions. It wasn’t as if Michael didn’t think animals were great companions, Amora was proof otherwise, but to live amongst creatures so far and different from oneself…It would be rather isolating. He didn’t understand Adam’s preference to remain at all.

“That’s alright. I won’t force you to ascend,” Michael said. “But, may I just ask why? I couldn’t help but be curious about your insistence to stay.”

There was a long silence between the two of them with Adam giving thoughts time to properly formulate answers he could give. The reason for his adamant insistence to remain in the garden was obvious to him of course; it was his long lost home, a place he had yearned for all of his first mortal life until the end of his first afterlife. More than a millennia of longing and missing the one place he only felt like he belonged in, the one place where he was the happiest. And even until his second chance at restarting, Eden remained that place for him, only strengthening his bond to it. It wasn’t something he was willing to ever let go of ever again. 

But he couldn’t say all that, so instead, Adam settled for a simple, but true enough answer.

“I just feel like this is where I truly belong.”

Part 20

Part 22

[novvabee]

And They Were Roommates pt.6

this is kinda silly and cheesy but i just wanted to get this thought out

Summary: Y/N meets Padfoot

Today was decidedly awful.

You had the worst day at work. You were on your feet all day. your boss was in a terrible mood, yelling at both you and Lily and threatened to fire Mary towards the end of the day. You knocked a shelf over, spilling loads of products in the back. And to top it all off, it was pouring rain.

You had gotten off earlier than you’d expected, the one good thing about today. You opened the door to the house and entered, kicking off your shoes and taking off your soaked coat. You needed something to warm you up and help you relax finally. You thought about making some soup or maybe asking Remus to make you a cup of tea.

That’s when you saw the dog.

A large black, scruffy dog lying asleep on your couch. You gasped and rushed over and sat next to it, instantly petting it. “Hello! What are you doing here?” you said in a high pitched cutesy voice. “Aren’t you the sweetest little thing?”

You looked for a collar and a name tag, but there was none. Who’s dog is this?

“Hey boys?” you called out. There was no response meaning that they had likely stepped out for a bit. You wondered where this dog had come from. Did the boys get one without telling you? Did the dog wander in itself? You’d ask them when they returned home but for now, you decided to just look after the dog.

The dog was now awake and tail wagging as you continued to pet it. The dog was very cute and you could be convinced to keep it if the boys wanted it. The dog looked at you intrigued, but hesitant. You understood, you were a new person, it was a new dog, you two didn’t know each other. But you loved dogs, and petting it was just so irresistible. 

“Hi baby. You wanna watch something with me until the boys get home? We can just sit here and cuddle on the couch,” you said in the same voice. The dog tilted its head at you, but its tail was wagging like crazy. You turned on a show you know the other boys hated, intending on catching up on it while they were out, but you could have sworn you heard the dog huff. 

You sat back and the dog took it upon itself to crawl halfway in your lap. You smiled and pet it. It was incredibly warm so you weren’t complaining. Its fur was soft, silky. You enjoyed the little cuddle buddy. 

You laid there for a little while enjoying the company, until you heard the door open and two voices usher in. James and Remus with grocery bags in hand. You turned in your seat to beam at them.

“Hey love! You’re home early.” James smiled back at you.

You skipped the hellos and went straight to questions. “Who’s dog is this? Is it ours? It's so sweet!” James looked puzzled but Remus’s face blanched.

The two boys saw the dog in question’s head peak over the top of the couch and they instantly shared an exasperated look. 

James chuckled nervously. “Uh-that’s-uh, Sirius-”

“Sirius knows the person the dog… belongs to.” Remus interrupted.

You laughed and teased, “Sirius knows people other than you two?” You continued petting the dog, kissing its snout repeatedly. “Do you know its name?” 

Remus began the same time as James. “No-”

“Padfoot.”

“Padfoot?” you repeated. “What a silly name for a silly little puppy.” you said in the voice. The dog licked your cheek as you giggled. 

Remus looked mortified and Jamed slapped a hand over his mouth.

“What?” you asked. “You two don’t like dogs or something?”

Remus shook his head and muttered “That’s definitely not it…”

You ignored the other two and continued loving on Padfoot. Such a pretty dog. 

“Where is Sirius by the way? I haven't seen him.” You asked the boys. You didn’t think Remus’s face could lose any more color, you were wrong. 

“U-uh I’m not sure. James?” Remus turned to James for help.

“I think he is… working on his bike.” James answered for Remus.

“Oh I see,” you said, still confused as to why they were acting so skittish. “Are you two going to make dinner tonight?” They nodded and you smiled, relieved you could relax for the rest of the night, possibly with your new furry companion. You stood from the couch and made your way over to the stairway. “Ok, well I need to change. Wanna come with me boy?” you asked the dog.

It jumped from the couch and headed straight for the stairs, like it knew where it was going. 

James coughed, “Maybe Padfoot should stay down here.”

The dog turned and again, huffed, almost human-like. 

“Oh, it’s ok! He can come to my room, I don’t have a problem watching over him.” you explained. 

“But-” James started before you could turn and head upstairs. “But what if the owner comes to get him?”

“James, I’ll be upstairs for like 5 minutes tops.” you laughed.

Padfoot raced up the steps before either boy could protest again, and you turned to follow him up. You reached your room and Padfoot had already made himself cozy on your bed. You kissed the top of his head when walking by, opening your dresser to pull out a sleep shirt and some shorts. You began to unbutton your pants, but a pounding on your door halted your actions. “Um, come in?” you called out. You were still dressed so you didn’t think anything of it.

James burst through the door. “Uh, Padfoot's owner is here,” he said quickly.  Damn what a coincidence. 

“Aww,” you frowned, looking at the dog. You walked over and planted one more kiss right between his eyes. “I hope to see you soon, good boy.” 

The dog stood and stretched, then hopped down from your bed, giving James what seemed to be a dirty look as he left. James following, closing your door to let you finally change. They were being weird. Maybe they just didn’t want you to get too attached to it and be sad when it left. 

You change into your comfy clothes, and head back downstairs. You heard hushed arguing as you stepped into the kitchen. The boys, all three now in attendance, looked at you and halted their conversation. “Dog gone?” you asked, slightly dejected. Sirius smirked but it was James who answered.

“Yeah, sorry.” he said, and did look a little sorry.

“It's ok,” you said sadly but decided to let it go. “What are you making Remmy?”

The rest of the night was pretty normal, typical. You ate with the boys and then went to the living room to watch something together. You enjoyed the time with them, talking and laughing like usual, but the night became the early hours of the morning and you decided to head up to bed. Bidding the boys goodnight, you made your way up to your room and got in bed, falling asleep.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Just down the hall, in Remus’s room, the boys gathered. 

“Ok before you two start,” Sirius said in an amused tone “I was asleep on the couch when she walked in, I didn’t have time to change.”

“We’ve talked about this before, you can’t be Padfoot around here, not until she knows.” James lectured.

“Yes, but when is that going to be?” Sirius asked the two, who didn’t have an answer. They had many conversations about the whole magic problem. How they couldn’t change into their animal forms in front of her, they couldn’t do magic in front of her, they couldn’t be around her during the full moons (which they usually snuck out through Sirius’s window and into the woods behind the house.)

Sirius knew that it was a… serious… matter, but at least one thing went his way. 

Laying on Remus’s chest, curled up into his side, James on the other, Sirius laughed quietly, “She kissed me.”

Remus chuckled too, leaving his recklessness be for tonight. “You were a dog.” He pointed out.

“Still kissed me” Sirius said, still smiling. He smiled until he fell asleep with that thought.

Taglist 💌 : @too-efn-old-to-be-here @cometsghost @eeviee4 @giuli-in-earth @spicybearnaise @the-lavender-girl @adharalikethestar  @champomiel

[emdabitchass]

Open RP starter (this is long)

Youre at camp, But it feels… different? You realize its three years earlier and Em had just arrived at camp. You wondered why Em hadn’t ever talked about her arrival, Gods you were about to find out, You watch from a distance while Chiron talked to her about camp; Em looked scared but was trying to hide it. Suddenly a glowing golden harp appeared over his head, his sign, from Apollo, his dad. Suddenly Rachel ran over screaming chirons name repeatedly not long after making it there, green gas poured out of her mouth speaking:

start from the bottom as they make their way to the top child of Apollo shall die by the harm of themself no one to save them no one to turn to no one to grieve no one to care eighteen shall be their demise as they fall into unsurtenty to drown in their own thoughts to end it all before anybody knows their gone

Rachel gasped and passed out Chiron especting this caught her and Kate’s her down “is- is it about me?”Em said finally speaking “we can’t be for certain” Chiron said although his tone and expression said otherwise

suddenly you woke up muttering “oh gods…Em” you here slight laughing from the corner of the room and sit up to see Em drawing in your cabin “nice dream?” Something came over you and asked “you know… don’t you?” “Who do you think sent it to you?”

tags👇

@of-course-im-the-winner

@demigod-jack-hearth

@the-smart-and-the-dumb-one

@wills-significant-annoyance

@lisadaughter-of-hepheastus

@reyna4ever

@smileyalater

@ravensonofdionysus

[holorform2009]

WARNING: body impaled mentioned, death mentioned, you died. If you are uncomfortable stop reading this.

If there is Brud!reader...

Then I will make another sprunki reader!

Which is Sky!reader!

if you're confused, I'm talking about a sprunki who had a color of sky blue, that is why his name is sky. I did a little bit of research and found out his age is actually 14 which means he is the youngest of all sprunkies out there. And I also found out that he likes to collects teddy bear, no wonder he has bear ears.

So what I'm gonna do is make another platonic yandere DC x Sky!reader.

And yes, you still have a music syndrome.

Because I never seen sky spoke in a full sentences.

So anyway!

your noise or the way you spoke to people that is none sprunki is a music box. (I search sprunki Wikipedia)

They tried to communicate you to try and understand you better but since you kept singing that noise repeatedly they do not understand you, because they thought you singing in Morse code but they were wrong.

Well that's because you have a music syndrome! And can not speak normally.

I imagined it was Tim who is trying to understand your... 'language' but then he gives up because it's not close to a Morse code.

The only person who can understand you is Richard Grayson. Why? Because he can read your body language, as your expression tells everything. Actions spoke louder actually paid it off.

But would it be funny it was John Kent who can understand your music language? Imagine when Damien tried speaking to you and you respond with a noise of a music box out if your throat, he looked at John asking for a translation. "They said 'Are you the demon spawn that Jason keeps mentioning about?' "

And what's more funny Sad? What happens if you die?

Since sky didn't make it in horror version.

This will turn into an angst.

John Kent was looking for his friend, he was worried about them. The last time he saw them was at the Toy store. He asked for Damien to help find them as his eyes was filled with tears and Damien agreed to help him. It's been one week. And you were no where to be found.

John was filled with panic, fear, and anxious. Damien tried his best to calm his best friend down as John is in the verge of breakdown. Where were you?

He asked his Father, Clark. To help them both find their friend, his father agreed and Clark asked Bruce for help too.

At this point every heroes and vigilantes are involved in finding you. Unfortunately... They failed to look for you. John can not accept that his friend Sky!reader is dead. He cried in his bed as Louis and Clark looked at each other, worried and guilt written in their face. Both of them tried to comfort their son, not successfully doing so. Because he kept crying for his friend.

Until one night, Damien called John, telling him to come and meet him at the abandoned warehouse. He wants to show him something...

John flies towards the abandoned warehouse that is given by Damien current location. When he came, he stepped closer to his best friend and was about to ask him what did he want to show him something. But stopped when he saw his missing friend impaled by four rods in their body... One rod is through the middle of their skull to their chin, one through their chest, one through their ear, and one through their left eye socket. Blood is dripping through their neck, right eye, and right ear.

He explained to John that he was on a patrol but when he heard a music box that sounded like Sky!reader, instead of a soft and high pitched melody of a music box it's sounded menacing now. He quickly followed to where the sound came from inside the abandoned warehouse only for him to stop in his track and horrified at the sight of them impaled by four rods. Their eyes make contact with Damien before their light in their eyes slowly faded.

It was too late for him to save them...

And right now, you are no longer singing that sound anymore. Because you are dead. And now... John's eyes was filled with tears as he started sobbing once more at the sight of their dead body in from of him, seeing their friend like this... Hurts him.

Rains started to pour down hard, John and Damien and their families gathered together at your funeral, saying their goodbyes and farewell for you.

It hurts them knowing that you were young when you died, you were only 14. The same age as John and Damien. Now that you are gone. He wasn't the same anymore... John is always the happy boy, always the sunshine, and now... His smile is upsidedown.

Damien tried to cheer him up. Key word: "tried to" he is not the best at comforting ok? At least he tried. He promised to John that he will find whoever murdered their friend and when he captured the murderer, he'll let John do whatever he wants to do with the murderer.

Be it, kill them, punch, laser them, do what ever he want if Damien finally captured the culprit to who ever killed their poor friend.

He will keep that promise.

He swear to his best friend he will.

[procyonloser]

Pt 5

Lucifer stood nervously on the stage, after Adam clapped him on the shoulder, winking at him. He didn't look bothered to see Lucifer, but Lucifer was bothered to see him. Why was Adam here, at the zoo? Did he work here and at the aquarium? What, did he work at the wildlife park too? The arboretum? Six flags?

"Okay, Lute, if you want to put Hoot away, we can start the demonstration!" Adam said happily, and the girl on stage with him shot Lucifer the most toxic look he'd ever seen outside of a courtroom, before she walked over and had the owl step down onto a stand. When she came back, her expression hadn't changed much.

"What are we doing, Adam?" Lute asked, not the most amazing actress in the world, but Lucifer didn't think it'd be a good idea to tell her that right now.

"I'm going to have you and Lucifer stand about a foot apart from one another, and then we're going to see what Sweetness can do." Adam said easily, leaving Lucifer wondering who the fuck Sweetness was. The eagle? Who named it that?

The gist of it was Adam was going to have the very large eagle fly between Lucifer and the angry woman, narrowly avoiding hitting them. It went off without a hitch, Lucifer felt the power of the eagle going past him, the gust of wind from it's wings, and it was weirdly invigorating to be close to.

But all Lucifer could think about was Adam leaning in to his ear after and whispering to him to come back stage after the show was over. He'd turned red again as he made his way back into the bleachers, beside Charlie, who was talking animatedly and at length as to how cool he looked, and how scary it must have been.

Over the course of the show, Adam brought out snakes and spiders and one fairly large cat, and a parrot that Charlie seemed to love. The show was a hit with the kids that were there, and they all got a little adventure coloring book for their efforts, passed out by Lute, who handed Lucifer theirs with much more force than needed.

They lingered behind after, until Adam poked his head out and gestured for them to come back around. Charlie seemed confused, until they walked through the door, and could see all the holding enclosures for the animals, and her eyes got huge. The Lute girl was leaning against a table, glaring at him openly, but Lucifer tried to ignore her to the best of his abilities.

"I don't work here," Adam said, taking Lucifer's attention off of her. He blinked in surprise, not knowing what to say. "I mean, I used to work here, with some of their aquatics, but then I got the job at the aquarium. But, I'd been doing this show for years, and I have friends here like Lute, so I still volunteer to do it a few times a week."

"As long as you don't think I'm stalking you," Lucifer laughed nervously, not knowing what to say, especially not in front of Lute. "Charlie loved the show, though, didn't you CharBar?"

Charlie barely nodded, crouched and sitting eye to eye with a raccoon.

"How about you?" Adam asked, and Lucifer nodded repeatedly.

"It was great! I love birds, to tell you the truth. It was too bad the parakeet exhibit was closed, I love feeding them on sticks. So does Charlie." Lucifer told him, and Adam hummed to himself.

"I can get you in," Adam said, and Lute sent him a look.

"Adam..."

"It's fine, relax Lute." Adam said with a shrug, clearly not caring much for her opinion on the matter, which gave Lucifer an odd sense of victory over the woman.

"You're going to get in trouble," Lute warned. "They shouldn't even be back here..."

"He's a friend," Adam said with a hint finality in his voice, turning to leave and nodding for Lucifer to follow him.

"Is that what they're calling it now?" Lute asked under her breath, but Lucifer had heard it anyway. What had she meant by that; and did Adam actually see him as a friend? Lucifer didn't fully know, but at least he had a good view, watching Adam walk ahead of him.

Lucifer laughed as Charlie was suddenly swarmed by about ten parakeets, as soon as they'd gotten into the parakeet exhibit. Adam had given her a few seed sticks, and the birds reacted in kind. Lucifer took a few pictures of his daughter, deciding one was most definitely going to be his new phone wallpaper.

"Hey, you want to go on a date sometime?"

Lucifer was so distracted by Charlie and the birds, he'd almost missed the question, but it sank in quickly enough, and Lucifer was left blinking owlishly up at Adam.

"If not, it's whatever, I just thought-" Adam glanced away. "It doesn't matter."

"Oh my god, no, yes." Lucifer breathed out, and Adam looked confused. "I mean, yes. God, yes. I'd love to. Pretty please."

Adam laughed at the tacked on nicety, grinning down at him as a parakeet landed on Lucifer's shoulder. "You're such a fucking weirdo. I like that."

[wannabepoeticischiya]

Weak

[ 06 ] — the line of idiots

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A loud, obnoxious wail shattered the tranquility blanketing the Gojo Estate, waking the few people still held by the warm embrace of slumber. The sun had yet to pass the skyline, hues of blue and orange painted on the canvas overhead, morning dew shimmering like gemstones as the first rays of sunlight refracted against them. A lone morning breeze swayed against the figures in the courtyard, ruffling the snow-colored threads perched upon their heads, and the fine silks adorning their body.

"OJII-CHAN, WHY? TAKE IT BACK!"

How it came to this, Satoru did not know. A few moons ago, until the midnight sun was directly overhead, he kept his eyes peeled, wracking his brain trying to figure out why his friend (still self-proclaimed) had yet to make her appearance despite the many, many days that have passed them by. At first, Satoru tried to maintain a positive outlook about it, repeatedly chanting to himself that (Y/n) was busy, that she probably had other errands to run but... what exactly can a seven-year-old be assigned to that would take her this long to complete? And why didn't his grandfather tell him anything about it?

So, the young Gojo heir came to the conclusion that perhaps—this time around—he took some things too far or that he never exerted effort on something his grandfather had told him to do. And this was the old man's way of setting his punishment for slacking off... by taking his only company away.

Nonetheless, he was not delighted. Oh, not one bit.

As a way to get back at the one who caused his misery, he clung to the back of his grandfather's kimono, wiping his snot and tears on the newly commissioned garment. Satoru's weight was not necessarily a hindrance for the experienced sorcerer, what was a bother was his incessant wailing and ridiculous pleading.

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME." He cried.

"As far as anybody is concerned, my dear grandson... yes, I actually can." The older man said, calmly. He was used to the young lad's tantrums, often just letting the boy tire himself out—which he would... eventually—but that didn't mean that it made dealing with the event itself a lot easier.

"NO! JUST TELL ME THAT YOU DON'T LOVE ME ANYMORE!"

"Child, you are being dramatic..."

Satoru's brain could not comprehend why this was happening. Still sagged against his grandfather's kimono and being dragged to the meeting hall, he tuned out all the tumult; pondering about the things he had done that just fell short of the Gojo Clan's expectations.

You're doing great, Gojo-sama!

What remarkable talent at such a young age!

Just a few more practices and you'll surpass even the greatest of masters! As expected of you, Satoru-sama.

He was doing just fine—excellent, even—according to the people around him. They smiled at him as though he would be the one to bring salvation into this monkey-infested world; praised him as someone would when met with an individual destined to be greater than everybody else. If they could, these people would have worshiped the ground he walked upon; built a temple in his honor.

Satoru bathed in their flowery sentiments. He reveled in the way they would grovel at his feet if he asked them to—and he did. The Gojo Heir would get a sick thrill out of others lowering themselves for him just so that he could step on them one by one. They would deem it a privilege—something to be grateful for even if it meant that they would lose their dignity and their entire identity altogether.

Still, no matter how much glory was served to him on a silver platter, it did not change the reality that they lacked sincerity.

Empty. That's what they were.

These people spoke words that he wanted to hear. Always the words of encouragement. Words that would get them to his good side. They were nothing but hilarious soliloquies sanctimoniously performed in front of the human they equated as a god but behind closed doors, wholeheartedly believed and made out to be a fool. All superficial flattery that hid their rotting desires inefficiently.

Idiot! You're doing it wrong.

That's what'll happen when you don't listen to instructions. Do it again!

Are you blind? It's right here. You see, this is what happens when you're so quick to use your mouth to complain instead of using your eyes to actually look!

The words of his one true friend (again, still self-proclaimed) were not any better. Most of the time they were insults, things uttered to purposely provoke him, declarations made in the heat of anger and annoyance. They cut deep, often leaving a trail of tears in their wake.

But they rang true.

Well, most of the time they did.

It was nice to be acknowledged for the things that you did, yes. To be praised for your accomplishments, no matter how menial or grand.

But over time, it does become overbearing.

To be free from flaws. For your actions to be compartmentalized as nothing less than righteous and just. To be so incandescently perfect, to be condemned to no more than a figure of false divinity.

Who could stand to bear such a fate?

Hypnotized to be kept in an endless cycle of perfection left him thinking he had no more room for growth.

If you get hurt, I'm not gonna help you.

Say it with me now, I did this to myself so I shouldn't complain.

Take my hand, stupid. On three, I'm going to pull you up.

But her words shattered the chains that bound him to the destiny he did not want to follow. All those tears he shed, the crevices scattered upon the meadows of his pride, forests of ideology burned to ash—even if he did not know the reasons for them at the moment, he would soon come to find that they happened because it would give way for a new him to come into being.

Even if (Y/n) would not admit it—which he doubts she ever would—but her declarations, no matter how much she coated them with anger and spite, to Satoru... they held more warmth and sincerity than what his entire clan could ever hope to gather beyond their lifetimes.

Satoru knew he could confide in them because (Y/n) did not want anything to do with him.

He knew that, of course.

Satoru would be an even bigger fool than what the elders believed he was if he tried to deny what was so painstakingly obvious...

That (Y/n) did not like him, and that she did not want to be his friend.

The Gojo Heir did not want to say that she was different because she wasn't. Naturally, no one wanted to be near him for fear of inferiority or endangerment, it was all a matter of what would come first, really. Even if it wasn't spelled out in big, bold letters, he knew that people only confided in him because they needed something. He knew that the only reason someone would approach him out of their own jurisdiction was because he was useful—because he had the six eyes, the limitless.

It never strayed far from that... and he doubts that it ever will.

(Y/n) did not want to be near him. So, regardless of her reasons... she was just like everyone else.

The only difference is that she stayed.

And that was more than enough for Satoru.

"OJII-CHAN!"

After that punishingly tedious task of walking to the meeting hall, Satoru had yet to cease his hold on his grandfather's robe; opting to bury his tear-stained face in them rather than to be continuously denied of a simple request.

Some would say Satoru got a little too comfortable with always getting what he wanted. His grandfather would agree, for he was facing the consequences of it first-hand. It was hard to say no to him.

"I PROMISE I'LL BE GOOD! I WON'T CAUSE YOU ANY TROUBLE FOR A WEEK—NO, A MONTH! PLEASE!"

The old sorcerer could do nothing but sigh for what seemed to be the hundredth time that morning at his grandson's relentless beseeching. He almost caved into that very tempting offer, almost. It seemed far too good to be true—too good to pass up. No crying house aids? No ridiculous stunts on the estate grounds? Peace and quiet not for a day, not for a week... but for a whole, entire month?

"Satoshi-sama," a call from opened shoji screens shattered the Gojo Head's impulse to agree, "they're waiting for you."

At the mention of other people's presence, Satoru's attention diverted from ruining his grandfather's clothes to trying to peek past the figure of the person standing in the middle of the way into the room.

"Wonderful."

The alternative meaning of Gojo Elder's statement was: Oh, thank the heavens! I didn't think I could stand another minute dealing with a whiny Satoru, not when he nearly caught me in that trap. He shuddered at that thought. His grandson could be devious if he wanted to be.

The servant moved away from the threshold, folding his knees, and bowing deeply to the prominent figures of the Gojo Clan.

Clothed feet thudded softly against the tatami flooring, sunlight streamed through the opened window panels, flooding the room with light dyed in a warm hue. The Gojo Elder stopped shortly in front of the two kowtowing figures awaiting his appearance, his grandson still absentmindedly tailing (dragging) behind him. The people who awaited his command wore the standardized hakama for household servants: a dull blue, loose top with sleeves that were held back by a white string, accompanied by gray ankle-length pants. They were simple clothing, really, every household aid wore them even...

"(Y/n)?"

And there she was, the person Satoru had been longing to see for the past two weeks, kneeling before him as though she was nothing but less than him. It seemed that Satoru would often forget that she was. But even so, he wanted to ask her so many things...

Are you alright?

Were you getting enough sleep?

Are you eating enough?

Where did you go?

Why did you take so long to come back?

Her hair, which was nearing the bottom of her spine when he last saw her, now only went a little past her shoulders; a little uneven. Anyone could tell it was done in haste. Clinging to the skin of her right cheek was a big, white plaster. At the littlest movements of her arms, Satoru caught a glimpse of a sliver of white cloth encasing her forearms. Bandages.

Did she get hurt... why?

Who... who would hurt you?

"Ah, I'm glad the two of you have made it." Satoru's grandfather seemed elated at the sight before him. As for why he was, the Gojo heir was yet to find out.

"Satoru, I'd like you to meet someone."

The older sorcerer ushered his grandson out of his hiding place, which proved to be a much harder task than what he initially thought would be just a simple nudge in the general direction of the newcomer, for the young boy stayed rooted to where he stood... which was directly on top of the hem of his grandfather's very stained, newly commissioned kimono.

Satoru's gaze remained on the apathetic expression painted on (Y/n)'s face, frozen. He wanted to ask her so many things, tell her all about the events that transpired during the time of her absence. 

But he just stood there like a statue.

"Satoru, this is Nagano Kiyu." The words his grandfather spoke fell deaf to his ears. It sounded as though he was submerged underwater, sinking deeper into the abyss as the breath in his lungs escaped him through the bubbles that would part from his lips. He had an inkling feeling of the next phrases that old man would say... and he was willing to use all his birthday wishes for his instinct to be proven untrue.

The young Gojo heir didn't think he was particularly indigent of (Y/n)'s companionship, he took what she gave him with open arms and had been grateful for every single one of them. So, right now... he didn't know what to make of it. Satoru, for once, did not know how to react.

"—this is Kiyu, Satoru's new... aide."

Not when her actions towards him breathed as though he was anything but himself like he was nothing more than a passing stranger.

(Y/n)... his friend, (Y/n)... was being replaced.

Why...?

The only one who's ever been true, (Y/n)... she was...

It was almost comical how every single person in the room took the news. Kiyu, the newcomer, had stars for eyes at the sight of the snow-haired boy. It didn't take a genius to tell that she had been dreaming of this moment for a long time. (Y/n), as per usual, looked as though she wanted to be anywhere but right here; the previously spotless bandage on her cheek now had little dots of red decorating it. Finally, Satoru, who was only informed of (Y/n)'s uh future short voyage just last night, had blanched at the change of plans; no one mentioned a replacement. All his begging to tag along with her had now looked as though it was all for naught.

The Gojo Head stood in the midst of it all, staring awkwardly at the outcome his information had brought.

Satoru tried to catch (Y/n)'s gaze. He wanted to see that familiar glint of haughtiness—even go as far as to make jokes of his own blind faith. He hoped that this was one of the lessons he needed to learn the hard way, you know... by shattering his hopes along with his heart completely. Anything but whatever it was that was approaching. But (Y/n), as she was, had found the floor a lot more worthy of her attention than him.

"Well? My boy, say hello to—"

The sound of his grandfather's sorry attempt at cutting through the tension snapped him back to retaliate.

"But Ojiichan, why?" Satoru's voice echoed within the four walls, loud enough that even if some of the screens were undone, his complaint hit the older sorcerer at full force. It was evident that the young lad didn't take the news all that well. And he was going to make sure that everyone else would suffer from it.

"Well, it's because (Y/n)-chan here—"

With her heart pounding desperately against the walls of her chest, (Y/n) darted her eyes to look at the Gojo Head, an impudent action for she was not given permission to raise her head, but the realization came a little too late.

A stinging feeling erupted from the base of her foot all the way to the back of her eyes, forcing her to keel over once more; reminding her of her place, where she stood amongst it all. (Y/n) wanted to protest. To have the Gojo Elder withhold just this fragment of information from his grandson—from Satoru. Yet her lips remained shut, bordered by the teeth she ground together.

"—has to go somewhere."

The young sorceress let her thoughts run freely. You didn't have to sugarcoat it. Tell him the truth. It didn't even register at first, the slip-up of the Gojo Elder, far too occupied with cursing everyone and everything that damned her to this fate. The news of her departure was not meant to be disclosed until the day after she actually leaves, for good reasons—and the mortified reaction of the white-haired creature a few paces from her had proven why.

"What...? Where?! Why?! OJIICHAN THIS IS UNFAIR!" He complained, a disbelieving tone at first before it transcended into frustrated, angry, accusatory yelling. "You told me it was only for a while! Why does (Y/n) need to be replaced when she'll only be gone for a while? Are you lying to me? Just—just tell me you don't care about me anymore!"

Why does he have to be so dramatic?

"Don't be sad, my boy... that is why I have arranged a temporary substitute for (Y/n)." The older sorcerer gestured to the new arrival, with half a mind berating his grandson for acting like a dimwitted fool who was heavily reliant on another.

Satoru took one look at the person now standing beside his grandfather, eyeing her from head to toe before saying a clear, hate-driven—

"No."

Stepping away from his grandfather and his stained garment, Satoru sat himself beside (Y/n), whose forehead still laid flat against the floors. He crossed his arms over his chest, superciliously craning his attention towards other mundane things.

Oh, he meant every bit of disrespect.

Satoru made it clear with his wordless response: either (Y/n) stays here, or he was going to make anything and everything harder than it had to be. He is a hard worker after all.

Deafening silence permeated the distance between the four people in the room, even the clamor of the workers preparing for the day did not pierce through the tension in the air.

"B-But Satoru-kun..."

Satoru whipped his head to face the one who had spoken, his sky-dyed eyes glared coldly and threateningly at the poor girl. "It's Gojo-sama to you." He snarled.

It didn't escape the young lad's eyes the way this Kiyu girl cowered away from him, he got that a lot, so it seemed. Satoru didn't mind. In fact, he was more than happy to put this servant back in her place, who did she think she was? Calling his name with so much unwelcome familiarity. However, what unnerved him so was the expression carved upon her face the moment her eyes strained to the floor.

What's there to smile about? Weirdo.

. . .

The sun began to hide behind the towering skyscrapers of Tokyo, painting the once azure sky with hues of pink and orange, dyeing the rest with shades of dark violet and ocean blue. A lone afternoon breeze swayed the trees to its melody, causing a few petals to drift toward the large estate bordered by well-kept gardens.

A thunder of footsteps echoed within the corridors of the Gojo estate accompanied by faint whispers of 'Go away' and 'Leave me alone'; answered by a very persistent 'No' and 'Let's have a sleepover'. (Y/n) ran through the hallways of the massive residence, careful not to break anything she could not afford to replace, chased down by what looked to be a bundle of blankets with feet and snowy-white hair.

"You two, please don't run in the halls!"

It baffled her so; how could that idiot even see? The sheets are practically taller than him!

Was the thought that raced through (Y/n)'s head as she turned the corner. She hurriedly slid her door open, eager to lose that demon-spawn hunting her down. Shutting it tightly, the young girl let herself fall to the floor... too tired to silence the incessant knocks on her doorway.

"(Y/n)?"

Silence.

"I know you're in there..."

(Y/n) deemed it futile to hide her snarl. After all, no one but herself could see that nearly unpaintable expression of annoyance plastered upon her face.

"You know I won't go away until you let me in!"

This idiot! Satoru could really be persistent if he wanted to.

"Oh~ is that Grandpa I see—"

And with that, the door opened with a bang. Satoru nearly jumped out of his wits as he heard a very noticeable crack come from the wood.

He stared as the girl looked from left to right, taking in the sight that the threat was empty and that if she were to put him in his place, she would not get in trouble right away. A wicked smile graced her face at the thought as she intimidatingly loomed over him.

Girls were normally taller than boys during this time of life but to Satoru, (Y/n) looked as though she would continue to tower over him like this for all eternity; like prey being stared down, ready to be killed at a moment's notice.

Satoru would've never admitted it out loud, but the sight of the older girl, up and ready to mutilate his body terrified him beyond existence.

"I—I'm—"

"You," she seethed, pointing a daunting finger down at the poor quivering boy, "I've had enough of you—don't make me peel off your face."

(Y/n) spread and hovered her fingers over Satoru's neck, all it took was a little more fire and the root of all her demise would be as good as memory. He did this. It was all his fault!

Looking at him had (Y/n)'s heart beating in an irregular manner, she felt the back of her eyes burn painfully at the sight of him, as though the scenery was being carved into them. The anger. At this moment, rang true for (Y/n).

This is exactly why you're being sent away, you ill-mannered brat.

How many more acts of disrespect did you think he was going to take from you?

This is what you deserve. Either you crawl out of there by the skin of your teeth... or die trying!

To her, he had no right to assert himself as a concerned friend when he—he was the one to—

"I just—I just wanted to spend time with you, (Y/n)! You're... you're leaving soon, aren't you? So, I—I just... wanted to..." Satoru found himself losing his script, the words flew out of his mouth so unceremoniously. He had it all planned out, what he was going to say, the right words that were sure to get him out of the gutter with this one but right now, it felt as though he was digging an even bigger hole for himself.

"I missed you, (Y/n)."

"And you're going away again when I only got to see you today so... I wanted to make up for all the time we spent apart... if you would let me."

It felt odd to ask for other people's agreement. Satoru was so used to taking what he wanted when he wanted, to be given something he wished for simply because he asked for it.

This time around, he didn't want to be like that. He feared that if he clung desperately to (Y/n), it would only push her away from him even more. So, he waited; told himself that no matter her answer, he would accept it. Satoru's eyes stared at the floor with such ferocity that he was sure he would burn through it if he kept at it for the rest of the night, which he silently hoped he wouldn't. No matter how many times the Gojo heir told himself that he would take any answer that (Y/n) would give him, the sorcerer in question, knew that Satoru did not want to be rejected. She could easily tell; it didn't take a genius to see that much. The way he braced himself as though he was going to get hurt, that alone gave it all away.

Because Gojo Satoru valued her thoughts of him more than anybody else's.

As (Y/n) took an intake of air to politely answer, her head craned to look at the person standing at the end of the hallway.

"Gojo-sama, supper is awaiting you in your sleeping quarters."

At the sound of that voice, the events that took place earlier today rushed back to (Y/n) at full force. It did not occur to the young sorcerer that she had been putting off thinking about it until she was left with no other choice but to confront the situation.

Much like the incident that transpired hours before, Satoru spared not a single breath towards Kiyu's direction, even after she closed the distance between them to a mere arm's length; preferring to keep his gaze settled on the person standing before him.

"You can have it. I'm not going there."

Satoru's short, seemingly sufficient answer was enough to snap her out of her momentary reverie.

(Y/n) didn't dislike her replacement. Nagano Kiyu's existence served as a constant reminder of her approaching departure, that she would be away from the creature before her even if she had to spend those moments walking between the borders of the living and the dead. Kiyu was tolerable—or so (Y/n) liked to tell herself—and her gratitude did extend itself to the person in question when in reality, it was only extensive enough to graze its recipient. (Y/n) was grateful that Nagano Kiyu would stand as that demon spawn's companion in her absence. However, what aggravated her was that look Nagano was giving her.

"Sa—Gojō-sama, you have to rest... we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow—"

The insolent expression painted on her face said it all: I'm going to take your job.

To be perfectly blunt, (Y/n) could care less. She'd be more than willing to hand over this horrifying task to Kiyu if she was so desperate for it. She was sure of it.

So why did her hand ache to crush that audacious hand valiantly reaching out to touch the Gojo Heir?

"Who said that I was going to spend tomorrow with you?" His head titled sideways, for the second time that day, looking to the servant who had so brazenly declared such sentiments. Satoru sneered at her in such a way that it almost looked as if he was daring Kiyu to finish her interrupted assertion.

"You low-class scum."

It felt as though the three of them starred in a theatrical performance where the world is the stage; left to be puppets tied to the script, actions controlled by a director they could no longer reach.

"You're just a liability. Taken in by my grandfather because you couldn't give anything for the world—who would ever want you? Filthy monkey."

Gojo's words echoed throughout the halls, ringing in the ears of the two servants. He forgets sometimes... that when he utters words to degrade Kiyu, they come right back to push his one true friend to the ground.

And for a pause not longer than a blink of an eye, (Y/n)'s heart breaks a little more.

To hear the words come right out of his mouth—from Satoru who had so boisterously declared to the world that they were friends. To see the mirror of herself in the person he was reducing to something less than human—to be reminded that during once upon a time, it was her who was at the receiving end of those harsh remarks.

(Y/n) didn't want to hear any more of Satoru's insults towards the innocent replacement. The older girl might as well stand in the shoes of Kiyu if she had to hear another insult come from Satoru; be the one whose eyes brimmed with a silver lining, the one whose cheeks were reddened, hair tangled from all the pulling and dragging, thrown across the floor from a hit so strong it would leave your face bruised for a long time. Might as well go back to that place, stay in the presence of that man.

There was no denying that Kiyo was bitter and held all sorts of envy towards her—that Kiyo was quick to anger, to covet the things (Y/n) had, to assume that she would be the villain standing in her way to greatness.

But was that truly a reason worthy enough to hold against the younger girl?

It wasn't.

Because Kiyu was mistaken—and because just like Kiyu, (Y/n) had once longed to find her purpose... to find something meaningful to do with the life she was allowed to keep.

And for a while, she thought she was lucky to have been given one.

After all, (Y/n) and Kiyu were on the same boat.

Just like Kiyu, (Y/n) was taken in by the Head of the household. And just as (Y/n) once was, Kiyu longed to find something precious to hold onto—to serve as an anchor in a world so tumultuous.

If Satoru deemed Kiyo worthless, nothing more than another burden for the Gojō clan to shelter... how would (Y/n) be any different?

So, she walked away.

Failing to lull the tremble in her breath or hide the shudder of her hands... leaving the pieces of her battered heart scattered across the floor, dying just a little more at the echo of his words, at the stain of tears on the mahogany ground.

. . .

Moonlight flowed like silver water through the opened window, shining down on the figure of a girl lying on a futon in the middle of the small room. A lone evening breeze waltzed in between the curtains, making them flow like waves crashing on shore. (Y/n) snuggled further into the warmth of her covers, recalling a faint, albeit unfamiliar voice, whispering in a soft, kind manner. Words that she could never quite hear nor understand.

(Y/n) didn't bother looking up or retaliating when she heard her door open for the millionth time that day.

The intruder was probably far too daft to notice that she wasn't even asleep anyway.

As much as (Y/n) wanted to crawl away when she felt something lay near her space, she couldn't... not even when she heard him whisper into the stillness of the night.

"... please stay a little longer."

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Satoru's grandfather, or any relative aside from Yuuta has no name so I'm just gonna make one up for the sake of the story. Also, hair length in this chapter may sorta be sometimes set... I hope you don't mind.

[weirdgirlfriend]

truly 1973’s version of the “and then dan and phil came out holding hands with a pride flag” post but in real life.

[cathodic-clairvoyant]

There's a lot about discussion of hdwr that baffles me (not all discussion to be clear, because i do think there's a lot of good discussion about hdwr. But equally so are there the ones that make you wonder if you're reading the same story) and I think one that is especially annoying is the constant infantilization of miwa as this passive eternal victim. It drives me up a wall because this is quite literally an issue she's struggled with within the text of the story! She had an arc about how she dislikes how people treat her this way like towards the beginning of the story! And like even ignoring that, this story is about like nuanced and realistic portrayals of being in relationships and learning how to navigate them and so it's like what's the point if you're going to immediately reduce the characters to "the victim" and "the victimizers?" Is that even interesting? Is that a useful lens to look at interpersonal relationships?

[phagodyke]

ykw actually I am angry + disappointed w them. I've been pushing how I feel aside and trying to make it my own fault so it's all contained but I think theyve just been mean. and they really should know me better ik I try to pretend I don't expect more from them so I feel less hurt when they do things that upset me but we've been friends for years by this point. like come on.

[finexbright]

.

[moonwreathe]

being 15 in the fairy tail rp community and running a Cana blog was such an interesting time. I was blissfully unaware of inflation anons. People would kill your muse in a thread with no warning. I didn’t even have a rules page.

[yay-depression]

every day i set expectations and every day i’m reminded why i told myself not to do that

[forehead451]

stream of consciousness type deal.

[krysmcscience]

Did somebody say Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear? I think somebody said Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear. Thanks to that, have these retooled The Good Place jokes:

The "powers that be" can refer to either the Theraprism staff, the Axolotl, or just. Ya know. Disney in general. Or all three! Whichever you think is funniest. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The "party" Bill's referring to is Weirdmageddon, of course. He was quite the ashhole to everyone back then.

Ford has probably gotten pretty good at the 'tune out your psychopathic ex with dank memes' challenge.

It must be very cathartic to be able to make Bill shut up whenever you want with just the press of a button. I'm sure Ford doesn't abuse this ability at all.

Oh, sure, 'Not now,' he says, before he immediately backs out of the newly-made hole in the Theraprism wall. 🙄

Don't worry, Bill doesn't get far.

also yeah i know this one doesn't have an attempted swear - i just wanted to use the joke because of the massive stink-eye involved in it because it makes me laugh

⬇️ More goofs beneath the brief ramble if you wanna skip it lmao⬇️

Why is Ford even there, you might ask? Well, he either decided he preferred to watch Bill suffer in person over being distantly and repeatedly harassed with the same evil desperation book for the rest of his life, or he got roped into some kind of contrived community service for 1.) all his many counts of interdimensional thievery, and 2.) his ignoring all the very clear warnings to NOT summon Bill in the first place (which I like to imagine is also illegal). Theraprism staff were just like, 'Wait, this guy matters to Bill? Ooh, we can USE that! It might be the only thing that can help him want to get better!' It is not considered that throwing Ford at Bill so soon after Weirdmageddon could instead make them both WORSE - in new and altogether special ways! :D

Anyway, I'm calling it the Community Service AU, and I am most likely not going to do anything else with it beyond appropriating these silly Good Place jokes. So, feel free to adopt the concept if y'all wanna??? Just make sure that Bill is still not allowed to swear, no matter what, full stop. It's gotta be a real linguistic corkblork of a situation for him, is all I'm sayin'.

Finally, have these bonus Good Place jokes, but with Handyman!Bill this time:

'Opposite tortures' doesn't sound so bad...at least until it's an all-powerful chaos entity known for torture saying it.

you may think i forgot mabel's cute pink cheeks but the truth is that i did in fact forget but then immediately stopped caring which makes it okay, SHHHHHHH

And, finally:

lmao this is shit

True facts, if you cram Season 1 Eleanor Shellstrop and Michael into a singular triangle shape, they turn into Bill Cipher. This is science, look it up. Or don't, and just trust the source that is me, bro.

Anyway, I should be in bed, y'all have fun with these, I guess. Tune in after like a week or so and maybe I'll have an addendum to my comic about how Bill was drawn naked for karaoke night. Because him actually being naked was not the only thing I considered as a plausible explanation. XD

Also if you see any inconsistencies or errors in any of these comics, No You Do Not :D

Also also, reblogs are rad as hell and I appreciate every single one, just don't repost, please and thanks. Every time a repost is made, an artist somewhere cries. :,)

[slvttyplum]

when suguru got his tongue piercing you really didn't think too much into it, you thought it was just another person he was getting and that was that, but it was until that cold silver metal was rubbing against your clit you started to care.

it was like the feeling of getting a vibrator for the first time, you just had to use it over and over again until you physically got tired of it, that's what you did when you rode his face every single day and night, you could not get enough.

it was such a good feeling, and it made shivers ring around your body all around, it felt too good, better than a vibrator, that's why he had to eat your pussy every time. suguru loved the fact that you were using his mouth, as much as he loved eating your pussy, this was like christmas for him.

instead of him waking you awake to eat your pussy or just grabbing you to sit on your face, it was you with those pretty puppy dog eyes telling him to eat you out, what did he do? just that, you did not have to ask him twice.

when his tongue swiped back and forth between your folds and would repeatedly push against your clit and flick up and down, your eyes would roll to the top of your head and your body twitching with pleasure, it was a new sensation that you wanted to experience over and over again.

suguru was already good at eating your pussy and having your toes curl along with squirting your brains out, but this piercing enhanced the feeling all the way. sometimes he couldn't even get through you riding his face because you would cum in two minutes, then be on the verge of finishing for the third time in the fifth minute.

he thought it was so cute though, whenever you would hold onto him during the day not saying anything hoping he would get the hint, and he couldn't even resist. suguru fucking loved eating you out, and if you were so horny for him to use his new tongue, then he was going to use it and make sure you were orgasmed out of your mind.

your favorite position was when he would push your thighs into your chest making you hold them and just eat the fuck out of your pussy, it felt so good it had you crying and whining, but did you ask him to stop? hell no, you took that shit like a champ.

your toes twitching and curling as the grip you had around your thighs were loosening as he continues to eat you out, he wasn't going to stop even if you were begging and your face was swelling from the tears, he was going to keep going until his tongue fell off.

his spit and your fluids dripping off his tongue as he looks up at you moaning, it was a view he never got tired of seeing, he loved seeing it, loved seeing the pleasure drip down your core. suguru could never imagine seeing someone else do the faces you do when his tongue is deep inside of you.

don't let this man put his fingers inside of you while he's slowly rubbing his tongue over your clit, the small ball of metal pressing gently against your clit every 2 seconds while his fingers pushed and curved up to your sweet spot.

it was like edging but instead of the pleasure stopping for a few seconds, the pleasure just kept going but in a different way, your body begging for his tongue to go back to your clit every time he rolls it down.

this is why he was your favorite eater, he knew what the fuck he was doing.