#like i like it even more than the volcano that takes up ~a third of Magma Cone's level space

[postmakerkiwi]

🦴 Skelos Badlands Sounds - Crumbled Volcano 🔥

Lava flows from this ancient dome, broken and worn from eons of eroding, forming this massive pool of molten rock. Bubbles will pop and steam will hiss, so be sure to not get too close.

photo by CatbatQuartet

[morganski-19]

part 1

The next day, there’s someone new to visit Steve. Making Wayne stop in his tracks on his third coffee run. The rumors were true, the Chief isn’t as dead as he was a year ago. Just lost what looks to be half his body weight and all of his hair. Looking gaunt and malnourished. 

But he’s alive. That has to count for something.

Wayne wishes the Chief was there to see him. Give him the key to unlock the chain around Eddie’s wrist. So he’d be able to wake up to a clean slate. That his record will be clear and he won’t get carted off to jail as soon as he’s stable. So Wayne will be able to bring him home. 

Once he has a home to go to. Not just a shitty hotel room that costs more than it should for a night. But it’s right next to the hospital, so Wayne can be here in five minutes if something happens. When his boy wakes up. He has to wake up. 

It’s been five days since Eddie was brought in. Twelve since Wayne saw him last. All he wants is to hear his obnoxiously loud music blaring down the hall while he’s trying to sleep. Or the laughter that could make him smile even when he didn’t want to. Wayne wants his Eddie back, the boy he watched grow all of these years. He’s not ready for the day Eddie wakes up and the light is gone from his eyes. 

Because it will be. Wayne’s seen enough people come back from combat a completely different person. With the scars that are sewn into Eddie’s torso, up his neck, one on his cheek. There’s no doubt that he’s been through something unimaginable. Life changing. 

As much as Wayne wants Eddie to wake up. He’s not ready for him to wake up changed. 

There’s a knock on the hospital door before it opens. Wayne’s expecting a nurse to check Eddie’s vitals, tell him the same shit they have for days. That all is good and he’s progressing. It should be any day now that he wakes up. If the damage to his body wasn’t too much for him. Those words of hope lack their meaning now. 

But instead of a nurse walking through the door, it’s the Chief. 

“Can I sit?” He motions to the chair next to Wayne.

“I suppose.”

The Chief sits next to Wayne, not looking at him. “I hear he’s been in a coma for a few days now.”

Wayne nods, not much in the mood for talking. Civilly at least. Push the right button and the volcano is about to burst. 

“I’ve known a few people who’ve been in medically induced ones like this. They all wake up in the end.”

“I’d like for the cuffs to be off his wrist when he does,” Wayne snaps. Knowing that the Chief has the key to unlock them. “That way he can recover as an innocent man. Like he should.”

The Chief takes a deep breath. “I’m not fully reinstated yet. I don’t have the authority to do anything about that. Even if-”

“Even if what?” Wayne looks at the Chief. Anger filled his voice. “Even if he’s innocent. I know he’s innocent. My boy, my boy could barely hurt a fly, let alone a living, breathing person. He was kinder than people gave him credit for. This town gave him so much shit that he didn’t deserve. Still is. When I’m afraid he might never wake up the same again. So I’d like the cuffs off, so he knows that some part of this town sees him as something other than a villain.”

Finally looking Wayne in the eyes, the Chief takes a second to think. Nodding his head in thought. “You smoke?”

Wayne scoffs. “That really what you're thinking of right now?”

“Answer the question.” Something about the Chief makes Wayne believe there’s more to his words. 

“I do.”

“Great,” he stands, waiting for Wayne at the door. “Come on, let’s go.”

Wayne gets up, mainly because he doesn’t really have a choice but also because he wants to see where this is going. They pass Harrington in the hall, talking to someone on the phone. 

“Yeah, I’m free tomorrow. Can’t wait to sleep in my own bed. No don’t do that. Cause I don’t think it’s time to throw a party yet, not while.” He makes brief eye contact with Wayne as they walk by. Before turning away. “Just won’t feel right without all of us.”

Wayne has no clue who he’s talking about, but it’s probably not Eddie. Hopes it isn’t. He still doesn’t know how he feels about this kid, even if he knows Eddie’s innocent. Doesn’t forgive him from his past, if rumors are true. And knowing who his dad is, Wayne wouldn’t be surprised if they all were true. 

The Chief leads him to the side of the hospital, where there’s no foot traffic. No one around to hear. Wayne suddenly understands what this might all be about. Something not for wandering ears. 

“What I say does not leave this conversation,” he starts, handing Wayne a cigarette. Lighting his own before passing the lighter to Wayne. “Got it?”

Wayne nods. 

“I know Eddie’s innocent. But there’s some weird shit that was happening around then that I cannot tell you about it. All you need to know is that the Feds are involved, and they’re looking for a fall guy. And I’m trying my hardest to make sure that the fall guy isn’t your nephew. So while it might not seem like it, some progress is being made. Your nephew will be a free man when he wakes up. I give you my word on that.”

“I don’t even know how to start processing what you just said.” Wayne takes a long drag from the cigarette, letting the smoke blow out into the alleyway. 

The Chief laughs. “That was all of us the first time this happened. I’d say it gets easier but it really doesn’t.”

“The first time?”

“There’s a lot more to this town than meets the eye.”

“How do I know your word is any good?”

The Chief considers this for a moment. “You don’t really. But who else do you know who can fix this?”

With that, the Chief nods goodbye and heads to the parking lot. Leaving Wayne with more questions than answers, and a little flame of hope he’s wishing won’t get put out.

I don't know how many parts this will be but I do know they will be posted sporadically whenever I have time to write them. So, no promises of consistency.

also, tag list. I tagged anyone who asked/seemed interested in a part two. please let me know if you would like to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar, @tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda, @fandomsanddeath, @marismorar

[j4gm]

SPOILERS!!! REFERENCES AND EASTER EGGS IN F&C ep. 10: CHEERS

The finale!

Pawn Swan! This was another character who first appeared in Steve Wolfhard's post-finale loredump about the 1000+ world. I never expected to actually see him in the show.

Nuts how this is like the third time we've seen Simon's ass. I love how Shermy is just chilling and playing video games while GOLB lets this random old man take a turn at the wheel.

This establishing shot of Fionnaworld shows that it's very small. By the time it is restored at the end of the episode, this ominous white border is gone and there are more buildings, implying that it became a complete world.

I can't believe Gary was thirsting after Scarab in this situation.

There is a shop called Evergree Flowers; likely a reference to the episode Evergreen.

This shop window advertises that you can learn to kick bugs. Appropriately enough, Cake kicks Scarab through this shop window while in her Godzilla form.

The Betty statue has become GOLBetty.

It should be clear by this point that Casper and Nova are a parallel to Simon and Betty, with all of their decisions being made by Casper with little consideration for Nova due to their unbalanced power dynamic. This is why Simon realises that he should have been more considerate of Betty's dreams, rather than single-mindedly chasing the Enchiridion and the crown.

The credits confirm that genderswapped Ash is named Ashley. I wonder what happened to her after she fell into the void. Probably nothing good.

Poor Marshall never gets to finish his songs. Truly he is the genderswapped Marceline.

The name "GOLBetty" is now canon; Simon uses it in this scene.

I'm not sure what's happening to GOLBetty here. A loose thread to pick up if this story ever gets a continuation, perhaps.

Simon steps through several different universes, including all the ones we saw during this miniseries. I'm not sure what this world full of tiny bears is meant to be.

Some kind of industrial capitalist hell universe.

This is the Water Park Prank artstyle, implying that Water Park Prank takes place in a separate but canon universe. So Water Park Prank is now canonically canonical! (what a ridiculous phrase)

Some kind of Jake universe.

A universe featuring Magwood and his volcano lair, from the episode Evergreen.

The snail! It's not dead after all. And it's a great way of symbolising a return to regular Ooo, as is the reappearance of the smiley butterfly.

This was a strange selection of characters. I hope Jay hasn't left his younger siblings on their own if their dad is dead. At least baby Finn won't have to grow up in Vampworld, though part of me liked imagining what that would have been like.

Fionna mentions that his is her top fantasy. The other two of her top three fantasies were Cake being able to talk and a kingdom made of candy.

She gets a hammer, like she had in the dream sequence at the very beginning of the miniseries.

Kheirosiphon goes back to working in a teashop, just like he did on The Drift before he was imprisoned by Scarab. Also Marshall's outfit here is incredibly gay, it's great.

There is an ad here for a daddy issues themed comedy night. Sounds like Marceline's kind of place.

Prismo's face glitches for a second. Ominous.

Simon definitely needs to move out. This is probably an even more important realisation than coming to understand his influence over Betty.

In the credits of this episode, Simon is finally at peace.

And with that, the miniseries is over! Back to the long wait. Will this be it for Adventure Time? Or is there yet more to come...

[hyenaa-euphoria]

I hhave three questions, if I may!

Does DogDay in the red giant au like, attack anything that is alive/that moves, or not? Like, if someone where to give him food would he attack them or?? Sorry if this question is dumb lol

This sorta plays into the third question, but do you have any tips on how to draw the smiling critters?

Do you have any tips making a smiling critter oc? I'm really struggling with coming up for a design for my one, she always ends up lookin plain/boring :(

HELLOO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG

1 sort of…..???

He would rather snatch the food from your hand and forget about you than actually try to go after you!! It’s easy food after all!

And even if he did try attacking you, he can’t really so much, he has no strength left!

2 JUST ONE BUT YES

TEAR. BODIES.

thats literally it. tear bodies. that how you can construct their bodies.. Play with that! Make different poses!

3 Of course! Here are some tips!!

NAMES-

Soo, i usually base my ocs on animal idioms, animal expressions, adjectives, etc. Here are some examples with meanings!!

Loan Shark

Moneylender who asks for a lot of money, usually illegally.

CashCow

Someone who makes a lot of money from a company

BusyBee

Someone who keeps themselves busy

KittyCorner

Diagonally opposite from someone or something

Sitting Duck(s)

Someone thats easy to manipulate, cheat or take advantage of

EagerBeaver

Someone who works very hard and enthusiastically

WholeHog

Do something to its fullest extent

GuineaPig

Person used as a subject for an experiment

Wild Goose (Chase)

Foolish chase for something unattainable

BlackSheep

Person who embarrasses a group for being different

One-Trick-Pony

Person with one great talent but doesn’t have much more to offer

Road Hog

Dangerous driver, someone who drives recklessly

TopDog

The most important person in a group

You can also take normal expressions that have certain words that sound like animal species! Take my oc as an example (Sir Bat-An-Eye.)

COLORS-

IF you are basing your little critter on a real animal, you could think, “Man, how do i make this little guy look more Smiling Critter-ish?”

COLORS!!

Take Bubba for example,

He is an elephant! Elephants aren’t a bright blinding blue! Yet in a lot of cartoons they are represented this way because it is way more colorful! Sure to attract kids.

If it is an actual animal, search for some cartoon references of them! Maybe that can help!

Saturate the colors A LOT. Do you think kiddies would like an old, rusty, sad-beige-mom animal in their show??!?! Well- maybe…..🤔

But thats not the point! Make them bright! Make them pop!

Also, don’t always base them off of the animals ACTUAL colors! Give them different colors! If you want to make your alligator oc red because he lives in the depths of an erupting volcano then go ahead! If you want your parrot oc to be THE COLOR OF THE FUCKING RAINBOW then go ahead!! Who says they have to be the normal colors? Not me!

PERSONALITY AND ANIMAL CHOOSING-

Sooo… if you wanna be very picky like me.. then choose animals by how they would act in a society!

A hyena wouldn’t be nice! They would make fun of people, they would be rude!

A gazelle would be shy! They wouldn’t get their kicks from fighting!

That kinda what i mean🤔

If you want an elegant Critter, look for animals that often represent elegance, like peacocks!!

WHAT THEY DO.

What would they do if they were caretakers in PlayCare? A therapist? A janitor? What do they teach? Think about that and maybe that will help you with their necklaces!!

If you need more help, ask away :p!!

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 766: The ones chasing the colored bib!!

Pag 1

1: Those who pride themselves on their speed on flats are jumping ahead one by one!!

Waa

So fast!

2: Their goal is

3: the first result that's 10km ahead of here...

Pag 2

1: The sprint line!!

Pag 3

1: We're done here

On!!

Hurry up, you haven't forgotten anything?

No

2: Damn, road racing is so much more hectic than tennis

3: I-I'll grab that for you!

Thanks

4: We have to take a different route than the race to get to the supply point ahead of time

5: They were saying that a a lot of people jumped ahead earlier right after the start

For that “something line”? Is that thing so important?

On

Pag 4

1: The sprint line is the first title

2: During the Inter High there are three colored bibs you can obtain in one day: the sprint's “green bib”, the mountains' “red bib”, and the one for that day's victory, the “yellow bib”

This for all three days... nine of them in total

3: And among them, the “first day's fast sprint line” is the very first one

4: A flash situation right after the start when no one is injured or had retired yet.... out of the nine bibs that everyone can desire

5: under the same conditions, this, most of all, is the one

Pag 5

1: when everyone has the same chances!!

Gallop!!

2: The green bib

3: has to be mine!!

Ugh!! That guy's fast!!

4: There's a lot of show-offs from Nagoya

They mistake flashiness for strength

Real strength is

Pag 6

2: is “thickness”!!

Th... “thickness”!?

3: I'm Oosumi from Kagoshima's Satsuma Nishi high school!!

In Kyushu “thick” means “big”!! And I won't lose against anyone when it comes to waist circumference and neck thickness!!

Ugh!! He really is huge!

4: Oosumi-kun!!

Kagoshima's Oosumi-kun!!

5: The thickest volcano in Japan is Sakurajima!!

The thickest radish in Japan is the Sakurajima radish!!

Uh... but that has nothing to do with running!!

Pag 7

1: I want to try and see if there's a connection!!

3: If everyone has a chance, then it's not out of reach for anyone

4: That's right... the chances are equal... so

5: of course... in order to take all the bibs and regain the title

Pag 8

1: Kanagawa's Hakone Academy is aiming for the first sprint line too!!

Pag 9

1: “Shoot them down”?

You really wanna go, Bashi-kun?

2: Well...

3: In that case, Jou-kun will rest..

Wha!! wait, Manami, the plan....

4: We can't hold him back.... Bashi-san, please don't break your zipper

5: Even if I break it, as long as I win there's nothing to complain about!!

6: Can you do it?

Who do you think you're speaking to!!

7: I'll take it, 100%!!

My jersey, that was handed over to me by Izumida-san... and that Izumida-san got from Shinkai-san...

Pag 10

1: Is the one with the “bib number 4”, the ace sprinter number of Hakone Academy's tradition!!

2: Ugh!! Hakogaku is moving....

Ugh...

The first sprint.... for Hakogaku, Doubashi is suddenly going for it?!

Pag 11

3: Just now

4: I heard someone say that Hakogaku is moving!!

5: And earlier I got confirmation that Kaburagi moved

Pag 12

1: The third year Doubashi is going?

That Doubashi!!

2: What should our selected team do!!

3: We have no chance of winning

So do we keep going like this and preserve our strengths?

No

Should we send someone!?

4: Good grief.... is there no time to calmly savor the “feeling of running”at the Inter High!! The feeling of running!!

5: Pfui...

Pag 13

1: Of course I'm prepared for it but still!!

2: Kobayashi!! Uchikawa!!

3: You have the chance to test your legs that you've trained on the track field!!

4: Go for the green bib challenge!!

Pag 14

1: Huh.... but

But the first attack is basically already done

If only the two of us jump ahead now from here....

2: One last train is soon coming up from behind us

He has a terrific acceleration, but if you can jump on it you can make it to the front!!

3: Ohh

Waaa

4: He's coming!!

5: Seriously!? If we can then I wanna go!!

What should we do, Sugimoto-san!!

Pag 15

1: He's here!!

5: He's huge!!

Hakogaku!!

Huh!! Sugimoto-san!?

7: Kuaaaaaa!!

Pag 16

1: Doubashii!!

2: Sugimoto-san jumped ahead....

3: and caught up to the Hakogaku guy!?

4: Huh!?

What do you want, you....

Pag 17

1: You're Sohoku's handyman....!?

2: Can you take two people of the selcted team with you!?

I want to give them the chance to experience the sprint

3: Why are you running in the Inter High!!

4: The selected team!? So you're the one they said they called at last minute!!

Please take them with you

5: Ah!? You call that a negotiation!?

Get out of here with that selfish talk!!

6: There's no benefit for me..!! It's ridiculous!! I refuse!!

I'll make up for it!!

Pag 18

1: When Hakogaku is in a pinch somewhere, we'll help you!! I'll take the initiative!!

3: Buah!! Oi, wait-

You!? Helping!? Hakogaku!?

Th-that's right!!

4: Buuah, that's not balanced!!

Please

5: Please!!

Pag 19

1: …. tch, I don't hate earnest people

2: Get on!! Selected team's guys!! But I won't care if you get shaken off!!

5: Handyman!!

I felt your spirit!!

Pag 20

1: I'll take these guys for now

I don't expect anything though!!

Thank you Doubashi!!

Waaa-

He's so fast!!

Pag 21

1: Ah I'm so glad....

Sugimoto-san....

Sugimoto-san is amazing.... he negotiated....

2: Now, we'll run in a formation while preserving our strength

Otherwise, if we're all scattered when they come back, they won't have a place to rest

3: Yessir!!

4: Do your best, guys

5: So fast....

It's hard, Kobayashi...

6: But we'll hold out

This is the road that Sugimoto-san negotiated for us!!

Yes!!

Pag 22

2: Hakone Academy's Doubashi moved, on!!

This.... Issa-kun and Doubashi-san... could it be that it'll be like...

3: last year's matchup, on!!

4: No but, Kanzaki-chan, what you were saying earlier about the colored bibs

5: You said that counting the sprint and the climb, there's three of them for each day

Pag 23

1: And there's no one who wants to take all three of them?

2: Yeah, since climbing and sprinting are fundamentally different running styles, there's no one

5: That is, if you exclude....

Pag 24

1: those out-of the-ordinary people who will appear sometimes!!

Yon

[jymwahuwu]

@blbrrymilk wren I can't stop my brainrot Dr. Ratio + spanking we talked about yesterday 😫… I tried to endure it but failed… have to write it out. This is extremely self-indulgent. I'm a little embarrassed lmao

And I’m sorry it’s not you as the second person perspective, because I think some of the descriptions of you may not be accurate 🥺🫶💖

You never thought about taking Dr. Ratio's course. Actually that's out of your control. On the selection day, after you entered the damn subject selection system, other students had already rushed in and snatched up all those simple electives. There are a few elective courses left, some that you don’t even know what they mean from the course names. The professor teaching these courses is: "Dr. Veritas Ratio", and there are a large number of student places.

Veritas Ratio…you remember classmates talking about this name. Ratio has taught 52 courses during his tenure, and the completion rate is no more than 3%… That is an impossible challenge!! You put your hands in your hair, groaning in distress.

But… you can't choose other electives… just take classes first and then think of other options… the worst you can do is just retake the electives.

This is your first lesson in the Dr. Ratio course. Before class, you bought a cup of milk tea as usual and wanted to take it to class to drink. This is a way for you to boost your spirits and relax. No professor ever criticized you. When you entered the classroom carrying milk tea, you saw a professor with purple haze curly short hair standing in front of the lecterns. You were slightly intimidated because you had never seen such a young and…muscular professor. His sleeves are bare and you can observe his well-developed muscles. He glanced at you, the laurel accessory on his head was shining, and then returned to the students in the audience.

You stepped lightly and sat on your seat holding milk tea.

The class started soon… about 12 students were sitting in different corners. And you found a corner to drink milk tea while listening to those principles and knowledge…you couldn't understand. This is so boring. You pouted, thinking that you really had to retake the class this time. At this time, a girl walked in wearing a decent and neat college uniform. She first confirmed the classroom number before walking in and planning to find a seat.

"Excuse me, Miss. Do you need to apologize for being late?" The professor stopped her.

You looked at the time on your notebook in surprise, huh? Is it just 20 seconds late? The girl was obviously frightened. She apologized quietly and ran to a seat. You feel sorry for her.

What a fussy professor. No wonder so few students take his classes.

When you listen to those lectures, your eyelids feel heavy. You use your laptop to browse the web and drink milk tea. By the way, you participate in a department store lottery belonging to IPC (what you want is a spaceship ticket. You did win, but that’s a cup of ice cream wtf…).

"The lady sitting on the left side of the sixth row." The endless stream of knowledge lectures came to an abrupt end. Dr. Ratio suddenly started calling the student - you. You took a few sips of milk tea before you noticed all the eyes in the classroom were on you. "A-are you calling me, Professor?"

He ordered with an expressionless expression, like a calm volcano. "Yes. And the lady fourth from the right in the third row. The one who was late just now. "

What? Is he going to drive you two away? Is he some kind of middle school teacher!?

Thinking of this, your fear was overshadowed by fun. Whether he wants to reprimand you or expel you or something, this should not be allowed in college.

You stood in front of him and the girl with an impatient look on your face. She looked confused. You obviously don't know why the professor ordered you two to stand here.

"Okay." He ordered. "Take off your uniform skirt and underwear, both of you."

"What?!" You have never heard such ridiculous words! What does he want to do to you? This is an absolute abuse of power! The girl next to you also frowned and argued with reason. "Professor. What are you going to do? This is unacceptable in college." The students in the classroom immediately started talking and whispering to each other.

"I can, and if in fact you don't comply, you will be expelled and go back to your planet to rest." He waved his arm, waiting for a reaction from the two of you. "You can call the principal or the university office immediately if you don't believe it. I never tell useless false information."

You stared at him for dozens of seconds, trying to see any falsehood in those damn golden eyes…but there was no such thing. He means it. Courage and morality tell you to run out of college and report him, but something inside tells you…that's just not working.

You slowly unzipped your uniform skirt. The girl next to you is more courageous than you. She just picked up her bag and wanted to run out of the classroom, but the cost was that Dr. Ratio grabbed her directly, pulled down her uniform skirt and panties, and bent her waist. The slap immediately hit her buttocks loudly. You watch in horror what's going on, what? Is this really happening? Spanking? Spanking in public?

"It's a pity that you don't have enough concentration, miss. I would appreciate it if you put your energy into class." His firm palm slapped her buttocks, delivering heat and unrelieved pain. There was no predictable rhythm, three slaps on her left hip, five on the right. "By the way, lateness is also unacceptable."

The girl put her hands on the lecterns and whimpered. The slaps from behind fell like a storm, causing her to occasionally kick her legs to relieve the pain. You want to stop Dr. Ratio's unreasonable abuse of power, but how? Witnessing these cruel and inhumane atrocities (referring to spankings), you wince from time to time, and some hallucinations of pain appear on your buttocks, just like those slaps have fallen on your body.

Quietly, you pulled up your skirt again.

After twenty more particularly loud and humiliating slaps, it finally stopped.

You hope it's Dr. Ratio realizing the inappropriateness of his behavior, but he just orders the sobbing classmate to stand in the corner (still without her skirt or panties on! What a pervert!). Then he pulls your shoulders and pulls your skirt and panties down to your ankles. The shame of public exposure washes over you immediately.

"Stop - I hate you!!" You screamed, but your waist was restrained and your bare ass was slapped continuously. He literally lights a fire in your ass… Slap. Slap. Slap. This hurts so much! You can't help but admire that classmate. With such pain, she didn't even scream like you…

"I noticed you've been drinking some high-calorie drinks and you're obviously not paying attention to class. This is just an appropriate punishment for your behavior." He announced the reasons for the punishment calmly, as if he had the authority to do so. “I hope you have a basic respect and reverence for the place where knowledge is imparted.”

"Stop fussing or making noise or I'll use the ruler."

You held your breath, not believing what you were hearing. ruler. That big, long, transparent ruler on his desk? A brief moment, but it felt like centuries of ravage. Not only the shame of being spanked in front of everyone, but also the pain and frustration...

You still ended with more than twenty particularly hard slaps. By the time it was over, you had tears streaming down your face and you were put in the corner by him.

Corner time...

He is a barbarian...a scoundrel...a violent maniac..

"Turn around," Dr. Ratio ordered. You looked weakly at the two hard chairs that had been placed. He told the two of you to sit down.

You sat down, the soreness worsening from the hard material. You squirmed uncomfortably. A textbook has been thrust into both of your hands.

"Good. Listen intently now, because I don't mind another round of punishment for you two." He turned around and drew on the holographic blackboard with electronic chalk. "Let's continue with class."

[silantryoo]

BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — jimin's y/n l/n.

yoo jimin, third year.

WARNINGS ; gaslighting, manipulation, anger issues, self-inflicted injury, self-harm, overworking, cheating, divorce, blood, violence, diets, verbal abuse(?) (3.1k)

yoo jimin hated the game she grew up loving.

at the ripe age of six years old, jimin had found herself playing in her backyard with her mom's deflated white and blue mikasa volleyball, the skin on it peeling and tearing from the years of wear prior to her use. though she loved the sting of the impact and the little dots on her forearms that would appear, there was nothing that could compare to the delight of her mother and father watching her from the house.

warmth, love, safety.

it was all jimin could feel back then, despite her arms aching and her lungs burning. the sweat on her back was nothing but a side effect of making them proud. the aching joints, the bruised arms, it didn't matter. all that mattered was them.

but to her father, all that mattered was pleasure, and in her twentieth year of life, everything would come spilling out like the lava from an active volcano.

jimin hated volleyball.

jang wonyoung smiled at the older girl, and jimin couldn't help but find it endearing.

she knew that the freshman (who was clearly younger than the rest of the other freshmen) idolized her. she had noticed it during tryout when she entered the gym doors, yeji's glare heavy on her. though all of the younger kids adored her, despite the year prior of her total silence, wonyoung seemed to shine through the crowd, diligent in a way that no one in her thirteen years of playing seemed to have.

the small looks of approval whenever she hit a particularly good spike, or the way she would listen to every syllable that jimin said pulled on the older girl's heartstrings. it was cute, and it gave her a sense of security that she often lacked when playing.

jimin was glad she convinced yeji to let the taller girl onto the team.

"sunbaenim!" wonyoung ran up to her, a tired smile on her face. "are you ready for the game tomorrow?"

yonsei was their biggest rival, as the two universities were always down each other's necks, waiting for one fatal mistake so they can swoop in and take the victory.

"maybe." jimin teased, her eyes dancing with a playfulness that she only managed to muster in front of her (not-so)mini-me. "it doesn't matter, as long as you're ready."

wonyoung whined, the younger not seeing through jimin's words.

"i'm joking." jimin patted the then shorter girl's shoulder. "i'm ready. don't worry."

wonyoung nodded, beaming up at the taller girl before scurrying off to talk to shin ryujin, hwang yeji's right-hand woman.

"you shouldn't be so nice to her."

the presence of hwang yeji was like an automatic surge of dopamine for jimin, and this wasn't any different.

"she's a kid." jimin tried to defend the girl, sensing the unwavering glare from her captain. "and she still has that drive, y'know?"

"only shit players don't have that drive." yeji looked at her as if the senior was talking about her. jimin pretending not to notice (even if her heart tore a little bit more). "she might take your spot in the future."

jimin smiled, watching as wonyoung made her way over to yujin, the latter throwing an arm around the skinny girl.

"i hope so." jimin spoke in happiness, ignoring the small ugly feeling in the middle of her chest. "she's a good player."

but yeji always had a way of knowing people's emotions before they knew it themselves.

"better than you?"

("is she better than us, dad?")

jimin looked at her captain, and all yeji returned was a smirk.

she loved hwang yeji, even if the girl reminded her of everything wrong in her life.

her mom would come into her room sometimes, crying about how her father had replaced them for a better, richer family. a chaebol of samsung who had left her husband for a nobody from a tech company, one who had a wife cooking and cleaning for him every day. a woman who would stay at home, who gave up her career to serve him and only him.

jimin's mom cried harder, apologizing for not being good enough, rich enough, to make her father stay.

it wasn't her fault, jimin knew it was her own.

maybe if she studied harder, suma would've given her a higher sum for her scholarship, taking the stress off the sole provider of the yoo household. if she had run a little faster, hit a little harder, and jumped a little higher, she would've been the outside hitter instead of hwang "free fall" yeji, instead of being the middle blocker who was too short to get her head above the net.

maybe, just maybe, her father would've been proud enough to stay. maybe her father would've loved her enough to love her mom, even if it was just for a little longer.

but jimin couldn't fly, and that was her biggest problem.

"jump higher."

jimin shook her head. it hurt.

"i can't."

jimin couldn't breathe, the pain with every impact making her legs beneath her crumble under her weight. her knee should be fine now, it shouldn't hurt.

why couldn't it stop hurting?

"jump. higher."

"i told you." jimin sobbed, hands on her knees. the pain was excruciating, like staring straight into the sun. "i can't."

"what the fuck am i even helping you for?" yeji mocked her, her voice echoing throughout the empty gymnasium. the volleyball captain leaned against the pole. "because if we lose, i swear i'll blame it on your shitty ass."

"we're not going to lose." jimin shook her head. it was impossible. never in history had they lost an opening game, and she wasn't going to start now. "look, i just need a break. my knee-"

"i don't care." yeji needed jimin's body, not her. "who gives a fuck about your knee? i'm trying to win."

hwang yeji was two things; methodical and manipulative, and her training jimin (which consisted of half of their 'sessions') was the former. she wasn't going to waste her precious time on a washed-out athlete, even if it was a great source of entertainment.

"yeji, please." jimin begged the way she did to her father. "i'm tired."

she was tired of hurting. she was tired of being the second choice, of not being good enough. she was tired of not recovering fast enough, being too weak, being too pretty, being everything but nothing.

jimin could see her vision blurring, the tears dripping down onto the court as the entire right side of her body burned with overuse.

yeji rolled her eyes, looking at the girl and walked up to her. putting a soft arm around jimin's waist, the cat-like girl leaned down. jimin's face was almost comical to yeji, and it took everything in her to not burst out laughing.

"don't you want this?" yeji asked, jimin's spine-tingling from the softness of her voice. warmth, love, safety. "baby, don't you want to make me happy?"

yeji already knew the answer.

"i know." jimin blinked her tears away, yeji pulling away to wipe her tears. "i'm sorry."

"just try again." yeji tried to hide the disgust as she felt the damp tears on her thumb. she pulled back. "jump higher this time."

jimin nodded.

ignore the pain. she thought. jump.

"i'll try."

jimin backed up from the attack line, the pain in her knee grinding her bones into mush. she ignored it, she had to. she couldn't worry about something so minuscule, not when yeji was expecting the most out of her.

all that mattered was yeji. she needed to make her proud.

jimin ran up to the net, jumping with all the power she could muster. she felt herself floating, like an astronaut up in space, waving down at the earth, or an angel, smiling down at their loved ones to watch over them.

her eyes didn't meet the top of the net.

she landed, her knee buckling under her once more, causing her to fall forward towards the center line. she could feel her ankle nearly twist onto itself, but nothing happened this time.

it hurt. it hurt so damn much.

"if i knew you couldn't do it, i should've convinced coach bam to put wonyoung starting." yeji shook her head, her eyes boring into jimin's.

jimin was pathetic, and yeji wondered if she had chosen the wrong girl in the first place.

jimin shook her head. she need this. yeji needed this.

"i can do it."

yeji scoffed, and it was like watching her father pack in the middle of the night, begging her to not tell her mom until he was gone.

"you can't." yeji stated. "why didn't you just quit last year?"

"i-" jimin knew the answer, and it was because of everyone but herself. they needed her to win, to play, to represent them. she was their pawn, and jimin never learned how to live for herself.

she glared at the ground, an unfamiliar rage burning inside of her. why couldn't she just be better?

she just needed to be better, for once.

"i'll do it this time." jimin stood up, clenching her fist. "i'm sorry."

"good." yeji nodded, watching the fire in jimin's eyes. she held back a smile, the glaring difference making the captain satisfied. "now again."

training finished in record time, but the sea of self-hatred never diminished in yoo jimin.

they were losing.

yonsei was a set ahead of them, 2-1, and jimin couldn't block a single spike from any of them.

her arms were tired from the day before. she couldn't jump high enough, and her knee... she couldn't ignore it any longer. the usual dull ache that she woke up with turned into a severe pounding, blood rushing to her head as she tried to persevere through it.

jimin hated it. she hated herself.

the whistle blew, and jimin looked over to the sidelines, ignoring the expressionless yeji, and the worried ryujin. she walked closer as wonyoung walked past her, and for the first time, jimin was irritated to see the young freshman do better than her.

that shouldn't have happened. she should've stayed. she should've done better.

"sit."

"coach, my knee." jimin bit her tongue. she couldn't cry, whether that be anger, pain or disappointment. "it hurts."

her coach looked at her, leaning down as the other girls on the bench cheered them on.

"does it look like i care?" coach bam looked pissed, squatting down. "look at me."

jimin's eyes locked onto the older man's eyes, his eye brows furrowed with a line in the middle. his faint 5 o'clock surrounded the frown on his mouth, and she could tell his neck was red and tense from yelling at her throughout the game.

"do you understand that you're are costing your teammates everything right now?" coach bam started, clenching his eyes shut. jimin swallowed back her reply. "you should know better than to be the reason we're losing this game. you need to get your head out of your ass and stop acting like you're special."

she knew that. jimin didn't need a reminder of what she wasn't. she already had a mental list of everything wrong with her, and she would survey it every morning an hour before practice.

"you know who's special?" jimin took a deep breath, zoning out as she waited for her coach to stop. "yeji. and you're ruining her chances of getting into the national team."

yeji was the center of the team, and anyone would be stupid to think otherwise.

"yoo!" coach bam shouted, making her flinch. "do you understand me?"

"yes."

he stood up, looking down at her like she meant nothing. "you're lucky wonyoung's around."

jang wonyoung was everything jimin lacked.

jimin hated it.

"ji..." alex whispered, passing her an ice pack for her knee. "are you okay?"

jimin could feel the tears starting to come. it was angry and hot, and it disguised the disappointment she felt.

"focus on the game," jimin could feel the anger building in her chest. "not me."

alex looked at her for a moment.

jimin was never an angry person, not even when they went to high school.

this wasn't jimin.

"but-"

"focus on the fucking game, alexandra."

yoo jimin played fifty minutes out of the two-hour game, all of which took place before the third set.

suma won with the help of jang wonyoung, ahn yujin and oh haewon.

3-2, in favor of suma.

yoo jimin was scared of many things.

she was scared of thunder, her house shaking as she ran to her parents' room. the thought of her death one day made her sick to the stomach, and there was something so unsettling about the thought of lake water to her.

losing yeji was another fear.

and losing her father was one she had realized recently.

"baby, i'm sorry." jimin begged, the hallway empty as most of the girls were in the multi-purpose room celebrating. "baby, please."

jimin grabbed yeji's arm, and the girl yanked her arm away, making the taller girl stumble forwards.

"who are you calling baby?" yeji asked her, her eyes cold and unfeeling. jimin hated when yeji was like this. "we aren't together, especially after that."

jimin could feel her stomach sinking. yeji was so far, and it was all her fault.

everything was her fault.

"my knee, i couldn't-" yeji began to walk away, and jimin lunged for her, her knee screaming at her to be careful. "yeji, please. i'm sorry."

yeji looked at her once more.

"be better." yeji pried jimin's hand off of her. "then we can talk."

"i'm trying." jimin could feel the tears starting to well up inside her. she was tired, and it seemed like yeji didn't care. "please."

yeji walked away without a word, leaving the sobbing jimin alone in what was dubbed suma's 'victor hallway'. the awards mocked her, her smiling face gleaming as if she wasn't currently drowning in self-pity.

she couldn't do this anymore. she couldn't think, her thoughts filtered with something akin to a red filter, skewing her perception in a way she had never felt before. all she felt was a hot burning rage that filled her to the brim with something so volatile.

jimin punched the cement wall, shaking the trophy case next to it.

she didn't care that her wrist wouldn't work the same tomorrow, or that her hand would sting with every contact with the ball. she knew her perfectly manicured hand would be bruised, and her knuckles would have the same fate, if not worse.

she didn't care.

she needed release, she needed to feel something aside from all the sadness, she needed something else, anything else.

jimin didn't know how many times she swung, but she knew it was enough to feel the shock through her shoulder and into her back, and for sores to open at the tip of her knuckles.

jimin sighed, sliding down the now red-stained wall. she would never hurt anyone, but she hated herself enough to hurt herself.

she wondered what would happen if she broke her wrist right there.

the volleyball player heard a small cough, accompanied by the rustling of paper, ice and plastic. jimin's head snapped to the sound, and she could feel the tips of her ears burn red.

"sorry, i was, um," the girl said shyly, and jimin deduced she was most likely a freshman. she was holding an ice pack, looking at the hunched-over volleyball player. "here."

jimin looked at it for a second, scanning the cat-like girl in front of her.

she was pretty, almost like a movie star. she had a beauty mark, though faint, on the tip of her nose, and her cheeks seemed to reflect her nervous fidgeting. her eyes glistened, a sense of innocence that many of the newbies held on her team.

"thank you." jimin smiled, the burning on her hand dying down at the contact of the ice.

the girl hummed, sliding down beside her, jimin's volleyball bag the only keeping the two apart.

jimin glanced at the girl once more. she looked at her, and jimin only felt warmth. she felt safe, like she was surrounded by the yellow-tinted lights of her house, her parents hovering smothering her with affection and love.

but jimin felt sincerity, a sense of truthfulness, and part of her had forgotten that existed until now.

"you're yoo jimin right?" the girl asked, looking at jimin's bloodied hand. she looked down at jimin's knee pads, almost like she was trying to decipher a code. "is it your left knee, or your right knee?"

when was the last time someone asked that? jimin wondered.

"sorry?"

"the ice." the pretty girl hummed, and jimin felt butterflies in her stomach. "use it on your bad knee after."

"oh, right." jimin forgot that there were many people who idolized her, too busy drowning in her self-hatred. "thank you."

the girl nodded, rummaging through her bag. jimin swore she saw a pair of slides in there, similar to the ones wonyoung had worn when she had arrived before the game.

"i have some chocolate if you want." the girl pulled out a ghana milk chocolate bar. jimin hadn't had once since she and her father decided it would be best to put her on a meal plan.

it had been about ten years since she had seen the familiar package.

"i can't eat chocolate." jimin smiled, the blood from her hands no longer seeping out of her hand.

"i won't tell." the girl brushed her hair out of her face, handing jimin the candy bar at her. "it'll be our secret."

("i can't keep secrets, dad!")

"i'm not good at secrets." jimin muttered.

"really? you seem like the type to be." the girl said, scratching her cheek as she zipped up her bag. "well, then i'll keep the secret for the both of us."

jimin nodded, looking at the girl as she checked her phone. the bright light framed her face in a way jimin had never seen before.

the girl's phone dinged, and jimin watched as she picked it up at lightning speed. the girl's face perked up, and jimin swore she had never seen anything cuter until then.

"i have to go. um," the girl stood up, bowing at the tear-stained volleyball player in front of her. "please take care of your knee. i hope that next time i can see you play."

jimin smiled, her chest light.

"i will... um-"

"l/n y/n." the girl smiled, her eyes forming into crescents. "i'm wonyoung's girlfriend."

wonyoung always had the best things in her life, jimin thought.

life was unfair.

"nice to meet you, y/n."

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[areyoudreaminof]

Future Rust and Future Dust

Chapter 3

The throne room of the Autumn Court was packed with guards blocking the main entrance. Beron Vanserra sat on a lacquered throne of oak that stretched into the floors and low ceiling. Male nobles from Autumn mingled with males from Valhallan. Deep laughter rang over the small orchestra that played a cache of monotonous tunes that had been played for  No females were ever allowed in the throne room, making the place stink of body odor and liquor. 

It was in this room that Eris Vanserra slipped on his mask of spoiled boredom and disdain and watched his father like a hawk. 

As he had since he was no more than a boy, Eris stood to the right of his father, watching. The male never seemed to move as he sat on the Autumn Throne. He did not adjust himself in his seat, nor did he cross his legs or lean back. Beron’s hands didn’t even twitch. No, Eris watched for the movement in his father’s eye. That small spark of cruelty and deception that would flash quickly while his jaw was set into a hard line. Eris knew his father’s tells, and now he could see it in Beron’s eyes as the emissary from Valhallan presented a cache of weapons at his feet. 

“Pure black steel, forged from stone found only in our volcanoes.” the brute of a male said, kicking his leather boot at the stone trunk. The blades on the axes and knives were indeed an oily shade of black. The steel reflected off the amber colored lights, muting the sharp edges. The blades looked dull to Eris. Tristian and Kaspar surely thought the same thing, as they snickered at the display on the farther end of the dais. 

The Valhallan emissary raised a flaxen brow. 

“Volcanic steel has truly been a gift for us.” the Emissary said, “I swear it is Cauldron forged. Tough in the rock face, but when you melt it, the metal becomes so flexible.” He picked up a small and curved knife, casually twirling it in his fingers. “One can make such incredible weapons.” He continued in a dreamy tone as he approached Kaspar on the bottom steps of the dais. 

“Here, let me show you just how sharp.” the Emissary said. His hand snaked behind Kaspar with quickness, a sharp sound of air piercing Eris’ ears. Kaspar brought a hand up to his own ears, checking for blood. 

“Do you see, now?” the Emissary said with a laugh as he held Kaspar’s elaborate auburn braid in his fist. “Such flexible and sharp metal to take someone by surprise. Cauldron forged, I tell you.” He bared his yellowed teeth in a smile from behind his trimmed and curled mustache. Kaspar gripped at the back of his head, fingers tracing the jagged remainder of his braid.

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[sorcerersseestars]

his eyes, your ears [i]

gojo satoru x reader  

part i part ii part iii

summary: Gojo Satoru is, undeniably, the most powerful sorcerer alive, but he certainly wouldn’t be as efficient without the help of a fellow sorcerer. You’ve been overlooked up until now – but what will happen when the world gets wind of your abilities?

pairing : Gojo Satoru x gn! reader                                                         

fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

warnings: mentions of blood, canon-typical violence, jjk spoilers (w/ possible inaccuracies & possibly ooc gojo)

word count: 5.6k 

“That Gojo motherfucker, I’m going to kill him next time!” A raspy voice shouts, each percussive word causing smoke to billow from his volcanic head.

You watch closely as a curse with a broad, trunk-like frame turns to their partner. You can’t help but wince when their whiny, grating voice reaches your ears: it is painfully distorted, and it seems as though you shouldn’t be able to decipher their words. 

A few flowers pop up in their hands as they speak. They bring them close to their face, inspecting their handiwork, “.ecno tsol ydaerla uoY .ytsah os eb t'noD” (“Don’t be so hasty. You already lost once.”)

The volcano curse glares at his counterpart and crosses his arms. “So the Boss was right before! Whatever! Doesn’t matter, though. I know all his sneaky abilities now. He won’t stand a chance!”

“,ogoJ ,niaga toidi na er'uoy fi uoy pleh t'now I” (“I won’t help you if you’re an idiot again, Jogo,”) Hanami sighs while releasing the petals from the flowers. They are carried by the wind; they float delicately in the gentle breeze.

“Psh, like I’ll need it,” Jogo huffs, but his eyes betray him. Recalling his past run-in with the world’s strongest sorcerer has blown his pupils wide. “I won’t let him live again. No sorcerer has bested me!”

“.ereht t'nsaw dik taht fi uoy desicroxe evah dluow eH .devil reve s'taht tsegnorts eht s'eH .lanoisuled eb t'noD” (“Don't be delusional. He's the strongest that's ever lived. He would have exorcised you if that kid wasn't there.”)

Jogo can only grumble under his breath at that, his giant eye shifting from side to side to avoid catching Hanami’s gaze.

The Jujutsu world is strife with discord, but there is certainly one thing all sorcerers and curses have no choice but to agree with – that Gojo Satoru is undoubtedly the strongest of them all. And he seems to have it all: unparalleled use of curse abilities, his household family name and a hefty inheritance to go with it, unique beauty and height that make others green with envy. His crystal eyes that never fail to take breaths away at first (and second, and third) glance; eyes that one could drown in and still never fully appreciate their complex beauty. And there's something lurking below the surface, something that forces him to veil his crowned jewels: the Six Eyes.

His kaleidoscopic eyes that twinkle even in the dark are more than just objects of beauty. They hold a different sort of beauty, too – a deadly, demented sort. They are all-seeing, all-knowing. It is near impossible to escape once his sights are set; they process information at a much higher, deeper level than what is normal, even among sorcerers. The universe's secrets are all but at his fingertips, if only he sheds his blindfold.

You're not even close to broaching his inhuman strength. Nobody is. But strength isn't your focus: brute force isn't your forte, and your cursed techniques aren't offensive, so you avoid combat as much as you can. Instead, you gather information. First and foremost, you're a tracker, but the other role Yaga commonly assigns to you nowadays is far more exhilarating – espionage.

Your sensitivity to cursed energy is very sharp, and you can pick up even the most faded and faint of residuals. Until now, for you, Yaga’s assignments have been fairly straightforward – stealthily track dangerous curses, pinpoint their location every so often, and relay this information to Gojo. Rinse and repeat. It wasn’t always easy, but you were fairly good at it. Ever since Gojo’s disturbing discovery of highly intelligent curses, however, your work has changed.

It all started with a meeting with the higher ups. 

You were randomly summoned by the higher ups. Meetings with them weren’t uncommon, as you often reported on the amount of curses you had encountered within a certain period of time, but those were only held every few weeks, with the last one being just last week. It just didn’t make sense that your presence was being requested again, so you were suspicious as soon as Yaga sent you to see them.

When you entered the room, wrinkled faces turned toward you, their saggy and sunken eyes following your every motion. Whispers quickly broke out and quickly found their way into your ears. You really shouldn’t have been able to hear their utterances so clearly, yet you did. “Are you sure about-” “Our source said that they-” “-useful against those curses.”

A throat clearing from within their group caused the whispers to cease. You honestly weren’t surprised that they shamelessly gossiped about you while you were stood waiting, but it still managed to get under your skin. Despite your irritation, you managed a small bow to your audience. Silence stretched out too long for comfort; you felt their eyes studying you.

“Good evening,” You said coolly. “May I ask what the purpose of my visit is? I reported to you not but a week ago, so I assume it doesn’t concern my current duties.”

Glances were exchanged, and the silence continued for a few more long moments. You inwardly sighed when the infamously corrupt and stubborn elder, Gakuganji, rose to his feet to address you.

“You,” Gakuganji glared up from under his eyebrows. “You have been hiding something from the council.”

You could only crack a sheepish smile, “Sorry, sir, must be a habit. It’s my job to stay hidden, is it not?”

“This is not the time to be joking,” Another elder frowned deeply. “If the rumors are true, then you have been most irresponsible.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t know what you’re referring to,” You said, and tried to shrug nonchalantly. “Let rumors be rumors.”

“Don’t lie!” Gakuganji spat, leaning forward slightly. “It’s useless when we already know. You’re under our control, and you’ll use your ears-”

“Yoshinobu, calm yourself,” Another higher-up, this one appearing middle aged, warned. He then addressed you directly. “The council has decided that your concealment of your inherited technique is highly irresponsible. Not only could this have been useful to our collective causes in the past, but it also now makes you a liability. You know much about our society, and could easily listen for more – if the recently emerging special-grade curses discovered this, it could spell doom for our society.”

“Exactly. There’s a reason I kept this to myself,” You frowned. “Only a handful of people are even aware this ability exists, and I planned to keep it that way. You can at least understand this, yes? As you said, this would be bad in the wrong hands.”

You said the last part pointedly, keeping direct eye contact with the councilman through every word.

“What do you want me to do?” You asked calmly, but your gaze was cutting and fierce.

Their expressions remained unchanged under scrutiny of your eyes; the middle aged higher up simply looked on as he spoke his next words, “You will track the highly intelligent curses – namely, Jogo and his accomplice. You will find their meeting places and listen in on their conversations. Collect as much information as possible, and report back every week.”

You had simply blinked slowly, not wanting to believe his words. Your surprise quickly melted away, exposing your red-hot anger; you had to force yourself to contain your voice, “And why will I do that? That’s stupidly dangerous. I’m not even special-grade, and you know that.”

“No, you aren’t,” An elder smiled smugly. “But this isn’t really up for discussion. Your parents were kind enough to divulge information about your hearing abilities, after all. And others, of course...you have been most secretive. That’s not exactly conducive to a productive member of this society, wouldn’t you agree?”

Your head snapped up at that; an icy dread had washed over you. You shook your head, then spoke firmly, “Keep them out of this. They’re not even sorcerers anymore.”

“They are as equally responsible for not disclosing your abilities to us,” The same elder smirked again. “So, please…indulge us.”

You had grit your teeth, then let angry words slip out, “You bastards…”

“Just do as we say and all will be well,” The middle aged man said. “You are not expected to engage with the curses. Your sole duty is to track them down, listen in, and record their conversations. You are not to discuss this with anyone outside of this room. Understood?”

Your mouth twisted as you considered his words. You didn’t like how this was sounding, but you really didn’t have a choice. “Fine. Yes, I understand.”

That was the end of the discussion, and the beginning of your downfall. 

Keeping secrets from Gojo has always been impossible. He’s always seemed to know your secrets before you even had the sense the hide them. It was nice sometimes, when you were too scared to spill the beans on yourself, but otherwise his ability to read you was terrifying.

For someone so goofy and seemingly laid-back, he sure has a keen eye for secrets and especially secret-keepers. You’re not quite sure why exactly nothing can slip by him – what exactly grants his this perceptiveness? Is it due to his observational skills, his emotional acuity, his Six Eyes? You often wonder about it, but this answer will most likely evade you until the end of time.

With new secrets swirling around in your mind, you’re avoiding Gojo as much as possible. You’re scared that you won’t have the strength to keep this secret from him, even though you have to – your family might be in danger otherwise. You’re trying to stay away from Jujutsu High, but there’s not much you can do with Yaga summons you: that’s why you find yourself on campus despite your elusive wishes.

By the time you have a second to breathe, you’ve already met with Yaga and visited your dear friend Shoko in the infirmary. Lately, she’s been expressing the urge to restart her habit of smoking cigarettes, even though she quit years ago and has been doing well with it since. Or at least, so you thought, until you accidentally discovered the distinctive red and white box of Marlboro cigarettes in her handbag. You’re not a snooper – you had been rifling through it to find your phone you slipped in it during a night out.

Ever since that night, you’ve been subtly and not-so-subtly trying to wean her off of them again through various methods. So far, the most effective way to stop her from lighting up is to bring her a piping hot cup of coffee. Whenever you find yourself on campus, which doesn’t seem to be very often these days, you always make sure to deliver the caffeine. With the coffee, you carry the hope of stamping out her nicotine cravings.

You’re coming back from one of these routine trips to her infirmary when you develop a wanting for the bitter drink yourself. A cup of it sounds really nice right now – you’ve only just returned from an exploratory scouting mission. You’ve been tracking the curses’ movements for a couple of weeks, taking few breaks as to maintain your knowledge of their specific location, and your lack of rest has been catching up to you.

You head back to the kitchen, nodding hellos to some students you recognize along the way. When you arrive, you’re pretty much dead to the world and don’t bother to check if anyone you know is there; you immediately zero in on the mugs. After you grab one, you turn around, wandering over to the fridge to check if they have your favorite creamer.

Electricity crackles through your nerves as you spot a tuft of white hair from behind the other side the fridge. You turn on your heel, abandoning the thought of brewing a cup of coffee, but he calls out your name before you can take another step.

Damn. You really should have checked.

His wide smirk greets you first. You feel irked by his expression, and feel even more annoyed when your mind drifts to thoughts of how attractive he is.

Gojo approaches you cheerfully, ignoring the frown etched into your features. “Avoiding your favorite sorcerer, sweetheart? I’m wounded.”

You roll your eyes, scoffing, “No, actually, I just saw Shoko a few minutes ago.”

“Ouch. Doubly wounded!” Gojo feigns a broken heart, clutching a hand to his chest. “During working hours?”

“Yeah, jealous?” You ask, your lips pulling into a small smirk. He ignores your deflection.

Even through his blindfold, you can feel his gaze searching your body. “What, are you wounded or something?” 

You shake your head, mouth quirking into a half-smile despite yourself. “No, just figured I’d stop by and see if she needed some coffee. She’s always itching to have cigarettes these days, so I thought maybe caffeine could help.”

“That’s good, I thought you’d turned weak again,” Gojo admits sweetly, as if he were complimenting you. You sigh, trying to not let his jab get to you. Of course he’d say that – did you really expect something different?

He continues his douchey behavior with a sickly sweet smile. “You haven’t been calling me lately, sweetheart. Miss me?”

You hold your face in your hands, rubbing your eyes vigorously. You groan, “You’re such an ass. You really haven’t changed since high school, have you?”

“Hey, I’m not the one with avoidant tendencies!” Gojo exclaims, raising his hands to defend himself. “Now tell me, sweets, have you not been on any missions lately? It’s been such a pain to track down these curses myself.”

He speaks so casually that you almost spill the truth. He’s just waiting for you to indignantly tell him he’s wrong, that you have indeed been on missions. He’s fishing for information, but you’re not going to take the bait: two can play at this game.

“Stop calling me those nicknames!” You frown, crossing your arms. “I don’t track curses exclusively for you. And, besides, I’m sure you have other people to help you out.”

He pouts. “But they’re so baaaad, it sucks. I have to do it all myself.”

“Boohoo, the strongest sorcerer is finally getting a challenge,” You scoff.

“You’re so cold these days, (Y/N)-chan,” Gojo shakes his head. 

He leans forward a bit, invading your space a bit too much for your comfort. You want to back away, but you’re afraid it’ll make you look weak or submissive, so you stand your ground.

You are definitely in the hot-seat. You feel like it too – sweat springs to your skin, and you take on a flushed look, as if you’ve been exerting yourself.

“So, you are gonna tell me why you haven’t been helping me out anymore? I thought that was your job, sweets. Isn’t it?”

The higher-ups words ring in your head. You are not to discuss this with anyone outside of this room.

“Oh,” You say weakly. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It usually is, but I’ve been assigned some pretty dry work.”

This piques Gojo’s interest – you can tell by the subtle way his head cocks to the side. “Oh, really? Even more boring than usual? That’s hard to believe. You better tell me all about it.”

Although his words are lighthearted and teasing, your palms start to feel damp from perspiration. He knows something’s up.

Your mouth opens and closes as you consider what to say to not rouse further suspicion. Your visible hesitation, however, doesn’t do you any favors.

He eyes you curiously, his near-constant saccharine smile faltering. “Is something going on?”

You shake your head a little too eagerly. “What? No, of course not.”

Gojo sighs, a knowing smile creeping into his expression. “You’re such a bad liar. Always have been.”

“It’s really nothing,” You say quickly. “But do me a favor and don’t ask me again. Please?”

Gojo lifts his blindfold, turning one glittering, intense eye on your form. You swallow, composure crumbling under the scrutiny of his gaze.

“Doesn’t sound like nothing,” Gojo continues. “You look rather nervous to me.”

“Only because you’re putting me on the spot! Look, it isn’t a big deal. It’s not like I’m actually figh-” You cut yourself off quickly. “I’m really not supposed to talk about it. You understand, yeah?”

Gojo shakes his head, large hand languidly dragging down his face to completely slide his blindfold off. “That’s never stopped you before. Keeping secrets from me now, doll?”

His eyes twinkle with amusement, but there’s a darker emotion stirring below the surface.

He leans in closer. “You really shouldn’t be doing that. It’s a dangerous habit.”

You feel yourself getting lost in his eyes – your head begins to swim with dangerous thoughts, and your breath comes short and fast. You avert your gaze, finally tearing your eyes away from his captivating crystals. Shame rushes through you when heat floods your cheeks.

“I’m not the only one with secrets, Satoru,” You say quietly. “But...there’s nothing I can do about this one.”

Gojo says nothing, but his lips twitch as if he’s considering how to respond.

“I could make you a cup of coffee, though,” You offer. You’re not sure why you ask – you know he won’t say yes.

He adjusts his blindfold back over his eyes, expression staying scarily unreadable. He leans into your space even more, making your breath catch in your throat, before firmly gripping your shoulder with one hand.

“You know I only like sweet things,” He refuses your offer lightly, before his tone lowers. “You better call me the next time you find something, yeah? It’s your job, sweets, I don’t care what anyone else says.”

“But-” You begin to refute, but Gojo cuts you off with a finger held in the air.

He’s only inches from your face now. You’re both glad and disappointed that his blindfold obscures his eyes – you’d be an embarrassed, blushing mess, but you’d be able to see his eyes up close again. Regardless of the covering on his face, his closeness has you holding your breath.

You can’t keep your gaze from drifting to his lips, which have quirked up into a smile that you find difficult to read.

He lets out a soft sigh, which you can feel fan across your face, before he clutches your shoulder more tightly. “I gotta go now, but remember what I said.”

There’s an sudden rush of air that swirls around you, the force of it causing you to gasp and shut your eyes. When you blink again, the pressure on your shoulder has been released, and the space in front of you is empty.

You had started scouting weeks ago, but it was finally time to get close enough to observe them more thoroughly. To be honest, you were worried about it – you had never been consistently around such high-level curses before.

You start out overly cautious, and not very effective; your roaring heartbeat overwhelms your sensitive ears, and thus hearing their words from afar proves difficult. You hate every second of it. The fear that courses through your veins chokes you, and whenever they stray to your direction, you can only hear your own frantic footsteps as you run away like a scared child. 

Despite your concerns, as the days crawl by, you have dared to venture closer. A few steps here, and couple more paces there, and you quickly become their shadow. You are terrified most by one detail: within the last few days, you have begun to enjoy spying on them. The adrenaline that used to fill you with only dread now makes your heart soar, and as you jot their words down, a strange sense of pride wells in your chest. 

You are getting comfortable. Too comfortable. Comfort is dangerous for a sorcerer, and you know that – it leads to the ever-fatal complacency. But, you’ve ignored all the signs since you are finally excited about your work again.

So, here you are, the closest you’ve ever physically been to these awful curses. Up until now, you’ve rarely even seen glimpses of them from your great distances away. For today’s spying session, though, you had decided to climb a tree, and you can now peek at them rather well from between the sweeping branches. Your ears appreciate your efforts: their voices are so clear and loud from this short distance. When you close your eyes, it seems as though you’re sat between them. You can quickly write down their words with ease – even Hanami’s strange piercing tones are readily decipherable.

“I hate this,” Jogo rasps out, his voice gruff and dripping with irritation. “That boy won’t leave us alone. I could destroy him, you know...”

You tilt your head curiously at this call-out. Jogo often complains about his ‘Boss’, but never has used his actual name. There are many diminutives of his name he has picked – Boss, boy, idiot, crack-pot fool – but he limits his vocabulary to anything but his real name. You have noticed this, of course, as you have physically recorded every instance of it, but you haven’t thought too hard about it until now.

Hanami exhales loudly, then turns to Jogo, “.stbuod ym evah I” (“I have my doubts.”)

“He told me that I stood no chance against Gojo Satoru, but he was wrong! I’m here, ready to pulverize that pipsqueak the next time I can get my hands on him!” Jogo boasts. “Boss knows he’s weaker than him, so he told me I wouldn’t win to make himself feel better about it. That’s a bit pathetic, don’t ya think so, Hanami?”

“...” Nothing can be heard except for Hanami’s heavy sigh.

“Obviously, since I’m on Gojo’s level, then I could tear Boss to pieces,” Jogo continues, an eerie smile full of teeth stretching wide across his face. “Get-”

Your heart drops into your stomach.

“,t’noD” Hanami cuts him off abruptly, rising sharply. “.gninetsil eb yam ohw wonk reven uoY .eman sih kaeps t’noD” (“Don’t; don’t speak his name. You never know who may be listening.”)

“Who cares?!” Jogo spits, rearing his spewing volcano-head dangerously close to Hanami’s fire-prone body. “He thinks he’s so cool by making us not say his name. He’s just as arrogant as that sorcerer.”

Hanami doesn’t respond, but you can see their mouth morph into a firm line. They shake their head lightly; they are unphased by Jogo’s anger, having been exposed to it too many times.

Your breath comes short and fast as you try to convince yourself that your ears are wrong. No. There’s no way. There’s no way, but the sinking feeling in your gut doesn’t subside.

“You act like the world is going to explode if I say his name,” Jogo scoffs, making his exasperation clear with a loud puff of air. “Geto shouldn’t care so much. You see how much he likes hearing his name being heard, anyway. What a brat he is.”

You have to cover your mouth to quiet the ragged breaths you’re taking. Your ears are never wrong – you should have known. The sound of your rapidly beating heart fills your ears, blocking out any further words from Hanami and Jogo.

A hand is still clasped to your face from shock as you begin to whisper to yourself. “Geto…is still alive? How…?”

Tears are streaming down your face, and you’re having trouble holding back the sobs that threaten to rip from your throat. You’re coming dangerously close to compromising your position, but you can’t find it in you to care. You need to leave, you need to run away, you need to go, but you can’t. It’s as though your limbs are glued to the tree; you can’t move.

Gojo. He’s trying to take out Gojo.

You suddenly feel the coarse bark scraping your skin as you clamber down the thick branches; hot blood springs to your skin due to your carelessness. Your breath is stolen from your lungs when you land hard on your feet with an audible thud. The force of the fall causes your legs to buckle from underneath you; your arms shoot out to catch yourself, but you still collapse to the forest floor. You’re making noise when you shouldn’t, but you aren’t registering any of your actions. You can’t think of anything except of how you need to get away, of how you need to warn Gojo.

Your heartbeat slowly fades from your ears, and you stiffen at the sound of approaching footsteps. They’re far, but not far enough.

“,gnihtemos draeh I raews I” You hear the flower curse mutter. “.ereh s’gnihtemoS.” (“I swear I heard something. Something’s here.”)

“Probably just another wild animal, like last time you freaked out,” Jogo says disapprovingly. “Are you seriously worried? So touchy just because I said his name…you worry too much, Hanami. And if not, I’ll incinerate this whole forest. There’ll be no place to hide.”

You scramble to your feet, your instincts screaming at you to do what you do best: run.

You’ve never run this fast in your entire life. With each frantic stride, your legs push you as far forward as they can; you’re practically flying. You don’t slow even as your hands dig into a pocket of your jacket to get ahold of your phone. You don’t risk taking a single glance at it; your hands messily speed dial his number before you can even think about it.

You’re vaguely aware of shouting behind you, but you don’t dare to turn to look to see if they’re closing in. You allow yourself to concentrate on the sounds behind you for a few moments.

“–I should go first, I’m better!”

“!ti wolla t'now I !seert ym lla ot erif tes ot gniog er’uoY” (“You’re going to set fire to all my trees! I won’t allow it!”)

“Fuck your forests, Hanami! You can’t stop me!”

You startle as a voice erupts beside your ear. “Ah, finally calling me on missions again? You must be bored, (Y/N)-chan. Don’t flirt with me too much, okay?”

“Satoru!” You gasp, barely able to choke out the words between your heavy breaths. “He’s back, he’s back! And the two special-grades–”

“Two special-grades? Where are you?” Gojo asks, his prior teasing lilt fading away rapidly. “What’s happening?”

“He should be dead, but he isn’t!” You cry, voice cracking. You’re vaguely aware you haven’t answered his questions – your overwhelmed brain can only spit out your unhinged thoughts. 

“I need you to send me your location. Just do that for me, okay?” Gojo asks, a note of urgency threatening to overtake his calm words. “Okay, (Y/N)?”

You nod even though he can’t see you, and then hang up – you don’t have an ounce of concentration to spare right now. You only really have one opportunity to do what you’re about to try to execute: cutting off your cursed energy. It’s a skill that you’ve honed over the years, but it takes so much effort and precision that it’s risky to rely on. At this point, though, you have little to no choice. If you don’t escape now, the chance of your survival will plummet.

With a jolt of newfound energy, you sprint to your left, closer to where the curses are headed. You will your cursed energy to wash over you, coating your surroundings in a thick wash of your distinct energy signature. Almost immediately, you notice a pool of glowing molten rock closing in fast. Everything within its path sizzles as it’s eaten away to nothing. Your breaths come fast – that could be you if you don’t hurry.

A thundering of heavy steps approaches dangerously fast. They’re crashing through the forest with little grace, probably squashing all plant life underfoot – you have to assume its the hot-headed Jogo. You have to abstain from that kind of clumsiness if you’re going to fool them. You need to do this, and you need to do it well, otherwise it will be for naught.

You take a deep breath, your brow creasing and forehead beading with sweat from the amount of concentration you’re pouring into this task. Within seconds, you cut off access to your pool of cursed energy. Everything is so quiet. It’s never this quiet. You can hardly hear them now – you’re not sure if this comforts you or terrifies you.

Without further thought, you eye the encroaching lava one last time before veering off to the side, moving quickly but carefully. There will be no cursed energy trail left behind, no residuals to follow, but you have to ensure there isn’t any physical evidence of your escape, too. 

There’s no way for you to be sure they’ve lost your trail, but you slow after a few minutes regardless. You make your way under a huge oak tree, crouching low under its expansive branches, hoping it’ll conceal you enough to allow you to quickly send Gojo your location without being disturbed.

You unlock your phone, opening the text conversation between you and Gojo, your thumb shakily pressing the “share your location” button. You wait impatiently to see your pinned location pop up.

It never does. It’s only then you notice two words that make you curse under your breath: NO SIGNAL .

There’s a great rustling from only tens of feet behind you, and you can feel heat begin to lick your back even from here. Jogo roars, “I know you’re there somewhere! You can’t run forever, dirty sorcerer! Let’s see just how quickly you’ll die – take this!”

Before you can react, a cluster of red-hot insects pelts the undergrowth in every direction. Your eyes desperately try to track the insects, but without your cursed energy to guide your sight, you are practically blind. You miraculously dodge the majority of them, but one grazes your right arm, and another singes your left calf. You clutch a hand over your mouth to muffle the scream of pain that is likely to escape otherwise. 

You double over, gripping your right arm like its your lifeline, before you snap out of it. You need to get away, you need to go, or else you’ll die.

You rush to your feet and then you’re off like a rocket, brushing past scratchy brambles and running head-on into several overarching branches. There’s no time to pause and rub at your aching soon-to-be-bruises or burns; every time you trip or stumble, you immediately push yourself up and continue your frenzied pace. 

You’re being louder now, you know that, but you can’t help it. Ever since your heightened hearing dulled, the primal part of your brain has taken over, focused solely on the flight. Your run-in with Jogo’s insects has only solidified your fight-or-flight response. Right now, only one half-lucid thought springs to your mind: another distractor to lure the curses away. 

You rip off your jacket, pour as much cursed energy into the fabric as possible, then fling it as far as you can away from your path. It’s a heavy jacket, and with the energy you’ve imbued it with, you easily throw it significantly further than should ever be possible otherwise. 

Once that event is over, you continue to mindlessly tear through the thick vegetation. You try not to think about your bloody, burning calf. You keep going even when your lungs burn horribly, even when they feel like they’re threatening to collapse. There’s also this horrid metallic tang in your mouth that won’t go away – maybe your lungs really are collapsing.

You feel it rip through your body before it reaches your ears: there’s an absurdly loud rumbling from behind you that vibrates through you – it sounds as if the forest is eating itself alive. When you risk a glance behind, you are horrified to see chunks of the forest disappearing into nothing, and thick new trunks cascading into the air, towering higher than any of the other trees. You can’t take your eyes away from the monstrous structure. If you can see their branches, then they can see you, then they can hunt you–

All at once, your feet fall against nothing; there is no satisfying thump against solid ground. Your arms immediately stretch out, anticipating a crash to the ground, but you don’t catch yourself. For many long moments, there is nothing. No sound, no sensation save for your body ripping through the air. It would almost be peaceful if your one-track mind wasn’t wondering if Jogo and Hanami had gotten you, if they had indeed caught up, if they had destroyed you instantly, if this was the end, if you were dead, tumbling into the endless abyss of the afterlife.

You collide with the ground. Sharp gravel digs into your skin upon impact, causing pain receptors to instantly send signals to your brain that you are definitely alive. The world whirls around you violently, dizzying you immensely. When more pain blooms around your body, this time more intensely, you realize you’re rolling down a mountainside. Suddenly you remember the bolded warning on the debriefing: “steep slopes on the edge of the forest; steer clear”.

Well, fuck, are the last words that come to your mind before your head jerks up and instantly rebounds back down from a particularly harsh impact. Darkness encroaches on your vision, filling your eyes with patches of dancing spots. They persist even as you slow to a stop, even as blood from your forehead trickles into your vision, obscuring the world through a film of red. 

There’s a faint ringing in your ears, and it sounds familiar. Your eyes roll to the right, honing in on a blurry object that’s flashing. You can’t distinguish the caller ID, but you know who it is regardless. You reach out weakly, but your arm can’t quite reach. You summon all the remaining strength you have to reposition yourself, to move, but your consciousness is slipping away. You’re barely aware of liquid dripping down your face – whether it be blood or tears, you can’t decipher – before you fully succumb to the darkness.

next part

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

You have no idea how happy you made me with "Stay the Night". Loki is so cunny and sly, I'm dead and Steve is just so....Steve hahaha I like how Loki somewhat got the upper hand and I hope he keeps getting the upper hand.

Maybe Loki forcing reader to go live with him instead coz she is his and no one, not even Steve, can take away what's his.

+ this ask: Roommate Steve vs BFF loki?? That is a rare pair and I love it more than I expected! Could totally imagine them glaring each other down, adore the oblivious reader!

Morning After

Part 1

Warnings: unwanted touching, noncon. Y'all know I do it dark and spicy. You have warnings, use them.

Oops, I added a side of roommate! Steve. Thots, comments, screaming, and feedback are welcome and highly encouraged. Thank you!

Steve places the coffee mug down in front of you. It’s tense, silent. Words unspoken, thoughts concealed. The night before trembles within, ready to erupt like a volcano but you won’t let it. You take a sip.

“You good?” Steve asks.

“Fine,” you answer stiffly, “just waking up.”

You glance at Loki as you lean your elbows on the table. He gives you a brief peek above his cell phone, thumb flicking across the screen. You rub your eyes and squeeze your thighs together. You feel his hand there still, hear his coaxing whispers; it’s okay, baby, I’m just taking care of you.

Since when did he feel this way? You’re friends. You laugh together, gossip even, and tell each other about your shit days. He’s not supposed to touch you like that.

“Sorry we don’t have much to choose from,” Steve sets the tall cup in front of Loki, “neither of us is very into tea.”

You sit back as their eyes meet. Each clench their jaws in a face off. Loki dips his chin slightly, “not at all, very much appreciated. The two of you keep such a warm home.”

“You didn’t find her plushies, did you?” Steve kids and you give him a look. He winces as he notices. “Well, guess I should head off before I put my other foot in my mouth.”

“Thanks, Steve,” you lower your gaze to the table and cradle the mug with your hands, “really.”

“Both our homes, don’t mind some company,” he shrugs, “just make sure you rinse the cups.”

“Thank you, Steven,” Loki enunciates tritely.

A low tisk bounces off Steve’s teeth as he checks his watch and sighs. “See ya,” he marches out and you take a well-needed draught of coffee.

Loki puts his phone down and twirls the spoon in his cup. You watch his fingers, recalling how they felt on your clit, playing you like a fiddle until you keened into his palm. Humiliation spatters on your scalp.

“What’s wrong with you two?” you huff.

“Nothing. I am cordial.”

“Loki,” you warn.

He rolls his eyes and glances away. You watch him, a task as you find it hard to look at him at all.

“You shouldn’t live here with him. It’s… improper.”

You scoff. His eyes flit back to you sharply.

“Improper? What about last night?”

His lips twitch, “last night?”

“Don’t do that.”

“You didn’t kick me out of bed,” he smirks.

“I didn’t invite you in, either.”

He sticks his tongue between his teeth, a guilty expression aimed at the table, “I couldn’t help myself. Perhaps I didn’t go about it the right away but I’ve made my feelings clear. Now we can… work through them. Together.”

“Are you kidding?”

“Not at all. I’m very serious about you. I’ve not put in three years for a place on your floor. To be a third party to him,” he peeks at the door sourly, “you cannot remain. You must come stay with me.”

“I’m not doing that and what happened last night can’t happen again.”

“You didn’t hate it–”

“I also didn’t ask for it,” you retort.

He huffs and his nostrils flare. He places his hand on the back of your chair and looks you in the face, “didn’t you? I come over, you’re getting out of the shower? You text me those photos of all your cute outfits. Oh, and not to mention all your gripes about needing a real man. Surely you’re not dumb enough to think it’s your ridiculous roommate.”

“This isn’t about Steve,” you gulp.

“No, it’s about us. About you. I can’t have you under his roof when you belong to me.”

“Excuse me? Belong to you?”

“Oh, yes, darling, since the day we met. You never wondered once why none of your dates ever called you back?”

You stare at him. Shocked. He wouldn’t. Well you also didn’t think he’d do what he did the night before. How well do you truly know your best friend, if that’s what he is.

[the-darkness-does-not-bargain]

SCP-XXXX: “Ava”, chapter 4 preview

Just a tidbit of what I’m working on.  Hope you guys are still excited for this!

SCP-XXXX: Do you mean it?

Dr. Young: Mean what?

SCP-XXXX: About all this.  Will you really teach me about cells and stuff?

Dr. Young smiles.

Dr. Young: Yes, Ava, if you’re willing to learn, I will teach you.  Do you like learning about science?

SCP-XXXX shrugs.

SCP-XXXX: It beat bible study by a mile.  Though that might have more to do with the teachers.  Sister Agatha taught all the science classes, such as they were.  She tried to make it a little fun… even did the whole mini volcano thing during the geology unit.  We thought that was the coolest shit.

Dr. Young: I’m not a geologist, but the study of volcanic activity is fascinating.  I’m sure the library here has books on it if you’re interested.

SCP-XXXX: I think I’ll stick with biology to start, not that rocks aren’t cool as shit.  Thanks, Bea.

Dr. Young: Of course, Ava.

Approximately 5 seconds of silence elapse.

SCP-XXXX: So… what about you?

Dr. Young: Hmm?  What about me?

SCP-XXXX shifts forward in her chair, shifting her weight to either side in a semi-regular rhythm.

SCP-XXXX: Well, obviously you like learning about science, but did you always want to study animals and cells and stuff?

Dr. Young taps her pen against her notepad.  3 seconds of silence elapse.  SCP-XXXX leans back and flushes.

SCP-XXXX: Sorry, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.

Dr. Young smiles at SCP-XXXX.

Dr. Young: Given all the questions we expect you to answer, it’s more than fair for you to ask some in return.  I apologize for my absentmindedness.

SCP-XXXX: Oh, no worries.  It’s chill.

Dr. Young: To answer your question, no.  For a long time, I didn’t want to pursue a career in science at all.  I was always fascinated by it, but I never even considered earning a degree in it until I entered university.

SCP-XXXX leans forward again.

SCP-XXXX: What did you think you wanted to do?

Dr. Young: Don’t laugh when I tell you.  It seems quite strange in retrospect.

SCP-XXXX: Wouldn’t dream of it.

Dr. Young: Well… I actually wanted to study religion, and eventually join the church.  I was raised Catholic, and my family was very devout.

SCP-XXXX: Are they doctors too?  Or… religion-studiers or whatever?

Dr. Young chuckles.

Dr. Young: The term you want is theologian.  But no, they were politicians, diplomats.  When I showed less than zero interest in politics, they pushed me to study theology as the only suitable alternative.  They never neglected my education, so I knew that I enjoyed science before but… I also thought that a life devoted to faith would be good for me.

SCP-XXXX: Until?

Dr. Young: Until it came time for me to choose my classes for the first term, and I chose a biology elective.  I took it for fun, I never thought it would cause me to change anything about my path in life.

SCP-XXXX: But it did.

Dr. Young: But it did.  It didn’t happen all at once.  Actually, in hindsight, it was quite slow.  One class turned into more, but I continued to pursue my theology degree well into my third year.  At first, I thought that studying both would give me a richer understanding of my faith, and in many ways it did.

SCP-XXXX: Meaning?

Dr. Young shrugs.

Dr. Young: I believe that there are higher powers out there in the universe.  But what shape those powers take, I have no idea.  God may look nothing like I always imagined Him, but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.

SCP-XXXX: …But he could be a weird tentacle guy.

Dr. Young laughs.

Dr. Young: He could be.  But there’s a kind of freedom in not knowing, don’t you think?  When you’re certain you know how the world works, you become limited within its perceived rules.  It’s only when you open yourself up to the possibility of being wrong that you can recognize how little you actually know about anything.  It’s a frightening revelation, but an exciting one too.  The rules you thought you were rigid and clearly defined fall away, and a universe of new potential opens up in their wake.  There’s something divine about that, I think.  A single moment of seeing the world as He must.

Approximately 2 seconds of elapse.

SCP-XXXX: So you’re, like, smart smart, huh?

Dr. Young laughs.

Dr. Young: What do you mean by that?

SCP-XXXX flushes and wiggles in her seat.

SCP-XXXX: I mean, like, you know stuff, but you also know stuff about stuff.  Shit, that sounds so stupid.  Forget I said anything.

Dr. Young: I understand what you meant.  It’s not stupid, Ava, and neither are you.

SCP-XXXX: Yeah, sure…

Dr. Young leans forward and rests her hand flat on the table.

Dr. Young: You’re not stupid, Ava.  Uneducated, perhaps, but that isn’t your fault.  And we’re going to fix that now, aren’t we?

SCP-XXXX looks away and bites her bottom lip, and then grins at Dr. Young, who grins back.

SCP-XXXX: Yeah, I guess we are.

[queerenteen]

under a different sea

(aka what if the little mermaid fell in love with the sea witch)

The Sea Witch from The Little Mermaid was nothing more than a greedy, evil woman who wanted power for herself and misery to befall the mermaid.

Nah, misogynistic, and honestly, boring and predictable.

Seriously Disney, pick a new tune.

The Sea Witch was a neutral party who simply granted the mermaid's wishes. She even included a caveat so that the mermaid could return to the sea even after the prince spurned her—telling her to reconsider.

But the princess chose to turn to seafoam rather than bathe in the blood of her beloved.

Morbid and kinda heartbreaking but Hans Christian Anderson wrote this in the aftermath of a friend's marriage: wallowing in his own misery so what else could one expect?

Here's the thing: The Sea Witch was a woman of great power.

Even the King of the Seven Seas feared her.

Women in power often get vilified.

We call her Ursula, but that was the name of the prince's beau, the one who won his favour over Ariel.

The old tales simply refer to her as the Witch.

But there's a name that mortal minds have forgotten—one that suits someone who rose from the hydrothermal vents and can control entire ocean currents with a lazy wave of her tentacle. 

Maya.

Magic.

Maya is a Sea Witch. She has no traditional parents, but rather coalesced from the heart of the seven seas and arose from the vicious stream of the underwater volcano in a haze of ink.

Her power is great and everything she does comes with a price.

It is the way of the sea—nothing is ever free.

While Maya is magic, sparks and lightning flowing through her veins like holy fire, there is only so much she can do against the natural order.

So she waits in her lonely corner of the kingdom. 

Eventually, she gains companions: great long moray eels with wickedly sharp teeth and even sharper humour.

They make the days feel less empty.

She's perfectly happy being left alone other than the vague: "Make an evil shark eat my ex's entire brood!" or "I win the hand of one of the princesses!" or god forbid "Please teach me your beguiling Sea Witch ways!"

Acantha and Surena (her beloved eels) eat the first kind, chase away the second and Maya hits the third with a memory spell that leaves them drooling messes caught in a sea drift.

Maya is set in her routine. It's hard being a Sea Witch and maintaining the steady equilibrium of seven different seas! She kinda wishes that the ocean would pop another kid from the volcano brewing in the Western seas but the last three such events hadn't bred any results so she wasn't really expecting much.

Shame.

She would have made a good older sister.

So Maya's brewing a potion that would increase the zooplankton because the blue whales were being hunted down (she had another cauldron with paralytic poison brewing at the back, one that would take care of those nasty hunters) when a cheery voice calls out: "Hello, is anyone home?"

Maya rolls her eyes. Real original.

She really hopes it's one of the first kind bastards because she needs to feed her girls.

Speaking of:

"Boss," hisses Acantha, needle teeth on display. "There's a pretty girl out front waiting for you!"

"You need to get out more," agrees Surena, whacking Maya's shoulder with the end of her tail. 

"If she wants to be an apprentice—" says Maya threateningly, letting ink bloom around her.

"Pshaw," says Acantha, curling around her waist, the junction where deep purple fades away to light blue. "I think you'll be surprised."

"Fine," says Maya with a pout. They gang up against her too much. "I'll check it out."

"I can't make princesses fall in love willy-nilly, y'know—" begins Maya, exiting her cave with a flourish. "No matter what you knuckleheads seem to think."

There's a shrill squeak and Maya follows the sound. 

"Oh fuck," she says, eyes still on her guest. "How have I pissed off the Big Guy this time?"

Because floating in front of Maya is Princess Ariel, the youngest daughter of the king.

Well, at least Acantha was right when she said pretty.

.

Ariel is pretty.

If you're thinking pale ivory skin, light green tail, a coin-sized waist and a fucking sea shell bra then you are sorely mistaken.

Like seriously, who the hell wants to wear a crab's home on their boobs?

And contrary to popular belief, girls need to eat too.

The only common denominator is the red hair, but even that's not what most are familiar with.

We should start from the beginning.

Years ago, King Triton of the Seven Seas fell in love with Athena.

She was—cue scandalous gasp—a commoner.

Triton himself was royal blood, a humpback of ye olden days—stoic and dignified.

Athena though—she was a tetra.

And she gifted her blinding neon beauty to all seven of her daughters.

And Ariel, Athena's beloved Ari, was a Cardinal.

Her tail was a brilliant fiery red, with a streak of iridescent blue scales down one side.

While Athena and some of her daughters had rich brown skin, Ari's was golden, a blend of both her parents.

And her hair, a stunning shade of coral red, was streaked with a deep ocean blue just above her right temple.

Pretty honestly didn't do her justice.

Ari turns her glowing blue eyes, just like her father's, towards Maya who groans dramatically.

"Nothing!" insists Ariel sweetly, and Maya knows better than to believe that.

"Yeah right. What do you want?"

Ariel takes a deep breath. 

"I want to go to the human world."

"I'm sorry," says Maya, dread flowing through her veins. This is going to be a disaster. "You want to go where?"

.

Okay, so Ari has entered this whole 'make a bargain with a Sea Witch' with a skewed perspective.

To be fair, no one really talks about her in the Palace, and whatever rumours Ari has heard painted her as a gluttonous monster who had wicked minions that liked to hunt down her enemies.

So Ari does the sensible thing and carries a harpoon strapped to her back.

Like Mama always said, be kind but ready to stab a bitch if necessary.

But Acantha and Surena are so sweet, and Ari has started to doubt everything she had ever heard.

And then the Sea Witch enters.

"Her name's Maya," Surena had mentioned ever so helpfully. 

And Ari knows then and there that all the blather she had ever heard about Maya was born out of jealousy.

Because honestly, everyone and their mother knew how powerful the Sea Witch was.

Add a voluptuous figure with striking, gravity-defying white hair that curled around Maya's face, her inky purple tentacles and her eyes: an eerie burning green like greek fire on water; no wonder people felt inadequate. 

"I can't make princesses fall in love willy-nilly, y'know," says Maya casually, and Ari wants to laugh because she definitely can.

If Ari's sisters were here, they would be having trouble picking up their jaws from the seabed.

.

Maya rubs her forehead.

This whole thing is exhausting.

"Okay, start from the beginning?"

Ariel—call me Ari, the only person who calls me Ariel is Dad when he's mad—Ari, hums. 

"I collect mortal things," she says, rummaging around the knapsack at her waist and pulling out—a fork? "A seagull told me they use this to comb hair but that doesn't seem right."

Maya rolled her eyes. "Seagull brains are ninety per cent feather what did you expect? It's a fork, it's used to eat."

"Oh!" said Ari, examining the rusty metal with newfound gusto.

"Get to the point—"

"Right, so remember the storm the other day?"

Maya scoffs. Remember the storm?

It had taken a whole fucking lot of effort to calm down Squidward, the giant Kraken living in the trench next to the Capitol. The last thing she wants is for the humans to launch a manhunt for him.

He's kinda grumpy but no sea creature under her protection was going to be hunted.

"Yes," says Maya tersely.

"Yeah, I might have snuck out that day—"

"Of course you did."

Winter is fast approaching, which meant Queen Athena has made her annual voyage to the Southern Seas. And everyone knew that the King knew jack-shit about corralling his children.

"A ship got wrecked in the storm."

"They're made of wood, not really durable in thunderstorms in the middle of the sea. So, you looted it or something?"

Maya hopes she found some of those loose leaves that humans boiled and drank. Tea, that's what it was. You couldn't find that stuff underwater.

Boiled seaweed didn't really taste appealing.

"No!" says Ari, appalled by the very thought. 

How her mother was Queen Athena, who met King Triton after successfully stealing the Deep Sea Pearl straight from the royal coffers, Maya would never know.

"Then?"

"I..." The rest of her sentence was an incoherent mumble. 

"Speak up," says Acantha, and Ari startles like she forgot that Maya's eels were there. 

"I might have saved the prince's life?" says Ari sheepishly and Maya resists the urge to facepalm.

She knew it was going to be some bullshit.

"And what, now you want legs to go see if he remembers you or something?"

"Well, I just wanted to explore? And the prince owing me a life debt seems like a good place to start."

"It's not some love at first sight bullshit, is it?" Please, please don't be love at first sight bullshit. 

Maya would hate to explain to Queen Athena why her daughter doesn't remember a week of her life. 

Triton can go suck a cuttlefish.

"I don't think so?" says Ari and that's not very promising.

Maya tips back her head and groans.

[evilasiangenius]

The Seventh Prince of Hell

Genesis 3:(-7)-5.5

-7   And they assembled all the Lords, the Princes of Hell into a congregation together sometime after the seventh day, but not on a day of rest because even the Dark Council has a day off.

-6     When it came to pass that all grew weary of the powerful pointing presentations, Lord Beelzebub spake with a loud voice, saying unto them, One of uzz brotherzz muzzt go to Earth as Hell’s Represzentative and thwart the doings of Heaven; there izz no choice now that the Almighty has created humanzz. Who amongzt uzz shall take up the project? It comezz with a great deal of extra paperwork, much travel, and no overtime pay. And we shall not reimbursze anything and there shall be no per diem.

-5     From among the Princes of Hell, one stood and said unto the First Prince of Hell, I would like to know exactly why we’re being called to do this. As members of the Dark Council, shouldn’t we just send an ordinary demon instead? Or even a Duke at the very most? After all, there is plenty work in Hell for us without needing to send someone so high-ranked to do something so menial.

-4     It izz to our benefit to take this very seriouszly, Lord Aziraphale, saith Lord Beelzebub unto him. We who loszt the war; we shall not lose Earth az well. Now I will volunteer three Lords of Hell. Step forward when I say your name.

-3     And of the seven Princes of Hell, three stepped forward, and only three; not two nor five, which are the other prime numbers near three and definitely not one, which is not a prime at all but the unit. The first was the Second Prince, who is called Asmodeus and is a demon of lust. The second was the Seventh Prince, who is called Aziraphale and is a demon of collecting stuff. And the third was the Fourth Prince, who is not worth talking about because they only appear in this one scene and for no other reason than to have three characters. I think that Prince is the demon of executive dysfunction or erectile dysfunction or something like that. Maybe both.

-2    And the three Princes, all Lords of Hell and members of the Dark Council, vied for the honors of being Representative on Earth with great reluctance until one of them won. Or lost, depending on how you look at it.

-1    And having won the dubious honors of being Representative on Earth, the Prince of Hell was told by Beelzebub to get up there and make some trouble, whatever that meant.

0     Later that very day on Earth the waters that flowed through Eden burbled, and flames erupted underwater though that would be impossible as flames could not erupt from underwater, except possibly in the case of a volcano or a deep sea trench, but that was not the case in Eden which had neither. However, from this supernatural burbling came a dark creature that slithered onto land, inching itself up out of the waters, over the field, and up an apple tree.

1     Now the octopus was more subtle than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made, primarily because it was a beast of the sea and not the field. And not properly a beast, but more like a fish, especially since it came out of the waters. Except it wasn’t a fish. And he said unto the woman, So I hear that you were told by God that you could eat anything in the Garden of Eden. Did God say unto you, that you shall not eat of every tree of the garden?

2     And the woman said unto the octopus, we may eat of the fruit of the trees of the Garden.

3     But of the fruit of the tree that you’re clinging to, octopus, peering out at me from a shaded hollow in the trunk, God hath said, Ye shall not eat of it, neither shall ye touch it, lest ye die.

4     Was that really God who said that or just one of God’s servants? Because if you heard it from an Archangel named, I don’t know, Gabriel or Michael or Sandalphon or Uriel, you probably shouldn’t listen to them, because they’re all a pack of lying bastards, every last one of them. However, you can trust me. I’m an octopus.

5     And the octopus said unto the woman, You shall not surely die. Besides, God said everything, right? The set of everything is defined as all things in the set. Here we have that the set is all the fruiting trees of Eden. If God didn’t want you to eat from this tree, God would have said, Ye may eat of the fruit of some of the trees of the Garden, but clearly God said every tree. That’s just how formal logic works, you know.

5.5   In fact, not only are these fruits good in a pie, they will also give you knowledge. You will know from good and evil after just one bite. I can’t imagine that God would find that troublesome, could She? After all, you’ll be more like Her, closer to Her, once you can tell the difference between good and evil. Besides, among other things, tasting of the fruit will give you the knowledge of baking a pie...

x

[odinsblog]

It’s funny to me whenever I see Democratic loyalists (blue MAGA sycophants) talking themselves right into oblivion. Republicans are walking them to the slaughterhouse, and they’re agreeably going along in a cloud of civility and rule-following. It’s like watching a village of brainwashed people willingly walking themselves into an active volcano, and desperately trying to talk them down off the ledge, because they don’t have to sacrifice their hopes.

“Of course Pelosi has to support the anti-abortionist over the pro-choice candidate, what else can she do?”

Why does the DNC and Pelosi constantly campaign for regressive conservative “Democrats” even in safe blue districts?? WTF is the point of supporting conservative, anti-abortion “Democrats” if they are literally just Republicans with the letter “D” behind their names, who more often than not, vote with Republicans and against any progressive agenda?

“But control of the House and Senate is at stake!”

And how the fuck is that working out? Has adding more conservative politicians helped protect Roe, or has it hurt Roe? Did adding more so-called “pro-life” Democrats help protect a woman’s choice, or did that foolhardy action hurt a woman’s reproductive rights? This is not rocket science—adding more of a bad thing into the mix gives us more bad outcomes, not fewer.

“But everywhere isn’t New York City, progressivism simply doesn’t work in the Midwest.”

This is standard, boilerplate DLC/Third Way rhetoric. “You have to be even more conservative than conservatives to win in rural America,” was the key strategy of Democratic Leadership Council. “We can only win by being moderate Republicans,” was their underlying strategy. But that strategy only helps conservatives… funny how that works, isn’t it? Look, I very strongly believe that when you consistently and materially improve people’s lives, the voters will absolutely positively follow. FDR did “socialist” things like put food in people’s belly, and he was on track for a fourth term. If you think there aren’t progressive people living in Red states who wouldn’t work for a much more progressive future, I got news for you. It’s all about how you sell that vision. But corporate Democrats gave up on real deal progressivism a while back, and they want everyone else to believe that right-leaning neoliberalism is the only acceptable way forward.

“There’s nothing Biden can do to advance his agenda, he doesn’t have a supermajority.”

Look, if the votes aren’t out there, then you fucking go get them. Biden actually has the world’s largest bully pulpit and the power of executive action. Let me ask you something: If Biden raised the federal minimum wage to $15/hour and eliminated all student loan debt, do you think that would engage and motivate voters to vote for Democratic candidates in the midterm elections?? Biden could energize tf outta his base, IF he was willing to do whatever it takes. And fuuuck getting Republicans voters. They’re always going to vote for (wait for it) Republican candidates!

And you can tell when these sycophants are retreating back into their alternate reality echo chamber, because instead of engaging with what you’re actually saying, they begin to regurgitate the familiar phrases they’ve been trained to say: “you’re a bot,” or, “you’re only helping Republicans,” or “Susan Sarandon,” or “you must be a Russian spy.” LOL. God forbid if you criticize their problematic faves, or (gasp) ask for our elected officials to do better.

Centrists are getting marched to the slaughterhouse, and all they’re doing is kicking up a cloud of politeness and agreeability. God forbid they actually put up a real fight, or think outside the box for two fucking minutes. And yes, standing up for some basic ass principals is going to lose you conservative voters. So fucking what? THEY already have a political party advocating for everything they want.

JFC. If Democrats fought Republicans even half as hard as they fight the left, they would have supermajorities in both houses of Congress.

It’s not too late. There’s still time left to save Congress from Mitch McConnell and the Republican Party. But Democrats need to be willing to actually fight for it. Not just send out fundraising email blasts, but actually fight—and not for capitalism, but for democratic ideals.

[barbnumber1fan]

ROCK YOU LIKE A HURRICANE !!

i was up all night thinking about rock troll floyd. to the point where i made like a whole lore abt musical genre changes and how they’re looked down upon (kinda like how queer/lgbtq+ ppl r now 💔) and shamed.

ex-pop troll and brozone member floyd has to hide his gay relationship with riff and the fact that he’s a rock troll. the headlines. fliff 4 life

ignore my mediocre art skills i am GARBAGE at drawing trolls.

anyway so after brozone splits (oh in this au, the third movie never happens. velvet and veneer steal some other troll or smth.) he does a bit of soul-searching. he’s never really felt all that connected to pop in general, maybe that was because of Brozone’s rough fallout?

then he meets emo gay drummer riff and finds out about the existence of rock and other music genres. DUDE IS SHOCKED. he’s like “holy shit.” so he decides to look around the nations to find his type of music. country? nope. techno? nope. classical? BIG NO. funk? eh. pop? he likes it but NO.

and then he visits the rock trolls.

and that’s how floyd finds out about his true music genre! he feels more comfortable identifying with rock than pop.

at the concert he goes to, he sees queen barb and he straight up ADMIRES her. not in like a romantic way, he’s gay asf. not even in a platonic way either, he wants to be like her. he wants to have one of these big, loud, concerts in this dark volcano rock place just like her.

so, he decides to change his music genre!

a lot of other trolls are like.. suspicious, and looking down upon him, but they end up eventually accepting him when he switches his genre.

floyd meets up with riff again, who wants to hang out with him. floyd wants riff to take him on a tour of the rock kingdom, which he gladly obliges. he also gives floyd some new clothes(emo.)

and then, after a few months of living happily as a rock troll(MUSIC GENRE VERSION OF HRT?), the worst possible thing happens.

brozone family meetup letter.

it shows up at his door, and he’s SO confused as to why there’s a colorful rainbow letter at his door. he opens it and oh god. brozone meetup.

“dear floyd, this is john dory! how are you doing? couldn’t get ahold of your address, so i sent rhonda over with your scent.”

okay, that explains the slobber on the letter. floyd doesn’t know that though.

“i wanted to tell you that me and the rest of your brothers are meeting up! i’d LOVE to see you there.

sincerely, john dory.”

floyd is like… genuinely tweaking. bro is STRESSED. since he’s already a few months in on music genre replacement therapy, he obviously looks very different. (darker colors, narrower eyes, slightly rougher skin)

anyways that’s all i have so far!! the meetup is gonna be CRAZY.

ROCK ON ! 🤘

[howtofightwrite]

What would be the best TTRPG system for realistic combat (and recovery) for a modern secret agent campaign without fantasy/sci-fi elements.

Best is a very loaded term here. That will depend on the exact kind of story you're trying to tell, and the experience of your group, and how much work you're willing to do.

The best, out of the box, fit is probably Spycraft, or Spycraft 2.0. Both editions do include rules for gadgets and volcano dwelling mad scientists, but the core material is modern spy fiction, with a lot of flexibility for anything from gritty post-cold war espionage to borderline superheroes.

Worth knowing that basically of the premade campaign settings for Spycraft will fail your conditions. World on Fire might be compatible with what you're looking for, but that feels like complying with the specific text of your request while ignoring its spirit. Shadowforce: Archer is more solidly in the range of a James Bond remix. It is an interesting setting, but not what you're looking for.

Part of the reason I think it's a strong choice is because it uses a modified version of the D20 system. Which is to say, 3rd Edition D&D. If you know how to play D&D, Spycraft is going to be very familiar. The 2.0 Edition does mix things up a little bit, but it should still be in pretty comfortable territory. (If 2.0 is still too “uncomfortable,” there is a splat to adapt the D20 Modern classes into Spycraft, so that it will play even more like D&D than it already does.)

For the most part, Spycraft is careful to provide the player with non-fantastic elements first and then dropping in fantastic elements as options for the players or GM. Remember, if you are running a campaign, you have final authority to say, “no, that doesn't fit.” Just because there's rules for a laser watch in the book, if you say it doesn't exist in the setting, then the player can't take it. (This is also an important lesson when it comes to player munchkining. If you see them breaking the game and conspiring to create the floating paragon badger of doom, you can say no.)

GURPS had a spy focused splatbook, GURPS Espionage, released in the early 90s. The downside here is it is third edition GURPS, and a lot has changed since it originally released. Finally, GURPS is not the most inviting system for new players. I know a lot of people swear by it, and I'm usually the first to recommend digging through their splats for ideas and insight, but actually creating characters is a bit more daunting.

Now, like I said, Best is a bit of a loaded term, so I'm going to give you mine, and then explain why I'm wrong.

I think the best baseline to start from for a modern spy setting is Project: Twilight. Ironically, it's not a full RPG, it was a splatbook for Werewolf: The Apocalypse. What it did provide was rules for rolling government agents in White Wolf's Storyteller system.

Now, I am a fan of White Wolf's Storyteller system, even if it does require mountains of D10s. It's fairly simple. Combat is abstract, letting the players and GM assemble a story out of whatever chaos ensues. It's functional, and flexible system. It's also simple enough that you can usually fake things on your feet and come close to how the rules were supposed to work.

A big part of why I still list it as one of the best roleplaying systems is because it really leaves the table open for roleplay and improvisation. It's probably not going to be a night moving minis around, and that can either be a benefit or a weakness.

So, I said it's the best, here's why I'm wrong: First, there is no universal rule system for the game. Every World of Darkness core book had minor rule tweaks unique to the monsters within. The easiest one to find and use as baseline rules for Project: Twilight, would probably be Hunter: The Reckoning (the deviations from normal rules don't, actually, matter for Project: Twilight characters.) (Incidentally, it is really hard for players to hide their intent to munchkin in this rule system. Because of how simple the action resolution system is, and because munchkin involves boosting dice pools, you can see that on their character sheet.)

The lack of a unified rules document is a bigger issue than I'm making it sound like. The reason I'm calling this the best, and then saying I'm wrong, is because I have internalized understanding of the rules that's advanced enough that I can start heavily tweaking it to get what I want, (incidentally, that tweaking is a large part of why I pointed to Project: Twilight as the starting point. I already know what I'm going to do to it, I mostly want that splat for a couple of Backgrounds (a kind of stat in this system)  unique to that book (or, nearly unique, most of them show up again in Strike Force Zero, but that's less applicable to your goals.)

Second This clearly fails the no fantasy element. It's a splat book about government funded monster hunters. Except, it's really easy to strip out fantasy elements from (most) RPGs. (I can think of a few like Suzerain or Fireborn that simply don't make sense if you try to remove the fantastic elements, but in the vast majority of cases, you can easily remove elements from a game's world.)

It's a splatbook for a setting you're not using, so you're going to need to create a new setting almost from scratch. This isn't as big of an issue as it sounds originally, but it does mean more work for you.

So, is Project: Twilight the best for you? Probably not. It would be my first choice, but that choice is based on having over 20 years of experience with the system. I do think it's a very good, and very flexible system, but it would require you to learn, and teach, the system.

I think Spycraft gives you everything you need out of the box. I find D20 to be a far more restrictive roleplaying experience, but that doesn't mean it's wrong for you. Also, because it's D20, there is a lot of material out there if you have difficulty figuring something out.

You may also want to at least take a look at Blades in the Dark. At first glance, it's a fantasy setting, so not what you're looking for in your world, it's also about thieves, not spies. However, the game has a few interesting ideas, including flashbacks and a general play structure that might be a very good fit for the kind of stories you're trying to tell.

The best game will be the one that fits your story and group. Ultimately, that might not be a single game, but rather an amalgamation of ideas from multiple sources mixed together with whatever rule system you're all comfortable with.

-Starke

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