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showtoonzfan · 1 year

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(Last ask got cut off on my end, this isn't spam lol) What I was trying to say was, HB and HH get all this blind praise for its- really bad representation of LGBTQ+ characters. The only trans character is fetishized, yet Viv is treated like this hero for trans rep. Stolitz (the main gay ship) has the plot-line of a yaoi fanfic. Angel Dust (the supposed positive gay rep) is literally a walking stereotype of not just gay men, but sex workers as well. Alastor (the aro/ace 'rep') is just the classic serial killer who's too in love with himself to ever love anyone else. Not to mention the whole 'spooky-ooky voodoo' thing he has is straight up disrespectful to the religion. But ironically, the straight couple(s), including Moxxie and Millie AND Lilith and fucking Lucifer live this fairy-tale dreamworld and the only good rep from the show is literally from background characters or a one off character we'll probably never see again. Wanted to know how you think Stolitz should be re-worked (if it can be saved atp. It's hopeless as of now) Along with how you think Alastor can be good representation if the effort is put into him.

Agreed with everything here. So sorry for the late reply, just a message to all my followers real quick, keep in mind guys that if you send me something, I’ll get to you in time! I get a lot of asks, so it’s hard to keep track sometimes, but I haven’t forgotten you! 👍

Also yes, I do believe Stolitz can be saved, but of course things would need to change. Now I don’t mean on a rewriting standpoint, but I do mean just….moving forward. To make a long story short, what Stolas needs to do is get his shit together. He needs to acknowledge and FULLY own up to what he did, how badly he treated Blitz, and how he couldn’t make his daughter his priority. He was selfish, possessive, and toxic, and honestly he just needs to figure out what love IS because he clearly doesn’t know how to treat a partner. The show also really needs to start doing some actual GOOD storytelling, I want to see why exactly Stolas fell in love with Blitz, what impact he had on him, and why he pins onto him so much. The show failed at making me feel like Stolas felt any genuine feelings towards Blitz, and because of that I don’t even want the two together because there’s nothing to go OFF of, there’s just…no chemistry outside of them meeting once as kids, and then fucking, and that’s the major problem, but like I said, this can be saved, so long as Stolas admits his faults and actually WORKS to be better. On a realistic standpoint, Stolas should honestly just leave Blitz alone, figure things out for himself, tend to his family and take time alone, because I honestly don’t think he’s ready for a relationship, until he fixes himself. That’s why I would HOPE that from what we’ve seen in episode 1 of season 2, Stolas gives Blitz an Asmodeon crystal, and cuts ties with him until further notice. I would love this idea, it would show us the first step example of Stolas actually trying to better himself. And speaking of Blitz, he needs to do the same thing. Cut ties with Stolas, and get his shit together. The problem is just that both these characters are just horrible people who need to admit their faults and work on being better, THEN they should see if they’re able to be in a relationship. The problem is….that when it comes to how Blitz sees Stolas, the show through storytelling has done nothing but show that he doesn’t like him, and feels trapped, only screwing him for Lust and pity. It’s honestly safe to say that as a writer, Vivzie has fucked up multiple times when it comes to their relationship. Every time she has a chance to improve it, she makes it worse, and with season 2 episode 2 being the recent episode, it can only go further downhill from here. Again, there’s still a chance to improve this moving forward, but I feel like the only way to do that is for Stolas to just give Blitz the crystal and focus on himself for a bit.

As for Alastor, I’m going to be 100% honest, I don’t really think his asexuality needs to be explored in the show. Not that I have anything against that because I don’t, it’s just think that with a character like Alastor, is there really a need to explore it? With a writer like Vivzie, I personally always felt like she never had the intention to. I feel like her idea for his character was just that he was obsessed with himself and too focused on other things to be in a relationship, and that’s it, no double meaning regarding sexuality. It felt more like she labeled him as ace because she wanted representation points, when she easily could have said “he’s obsessed with himself because he’s a homicidal maniac serial killer” and just leave it at that, it would have made sense and I wouldn’t have batted an eye because it fits with his character. Meanwhile fans always made his asexuality a big deal and I never understood it. For a character like Angel, I get it, because he wasn’t allowed to be himself during the 40’s and is now openly gay in hell, but Alastor? Why would I care about this man being ace, who’s literally a serial killer that’s probably murdered thousands of souls and is one of the most feared beings in hell? Who’s also clearly mentally insane? I dunno, y’all can disagree with me on this, but this is just my opinion. People also call Al good ace representation and Lmao….no? Go look at Todd from Bojack Horseman, THAT’S good ace rep, Alastor only feels ace to me because he’s a dick who only likes himself. However please again keep in mind that these are my opinions, if you’re happy there’s an Ace character in the show, that’s 100% okay! As for Alastor and the voodoo stuff being disrespectful, I can’t really speak on this subject because I don’t have the proper knowledge, so I’m not saying I disagree, I just can’t speak on the subject lol.

#vivziepop critical #spindlehorse critical #helluva boss critical #anti vivziepop #hazbin hotel critical #Alastor critical #hazbin hotel critisim #Hazbin hotel critique #Alastor ace #anti Stolitz #reply #ask

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tkeyahwrotethis · 2 years

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Two: “Come on Barbie, Let’s Go Party”

Super Cooper and I met back when he was just Cooper Neidecker at the tender age of eight years old. All parents like to make their children feel special but something about Cooper actually WAS special. I knew it right away from the moment we met. It wasn’t until high school, and puberty when he stepped into his role as “The Chosen One”, that he began to realize it too.

Cooper was not just tall with an athletic build, he was also handsome, charming, and smart. He envelopes all the qualities a girl would want in a man physically and characteristically. Not to mention , he’s literally the apex of humanity as we know it. As he exercised he became the strongest man winning our town numerous championships! Our super hero was filled with hubris and he wore it so well.

High school was a different experience for me. One day I decided to get dolled up for class when I realized my power. The prettiest most popular girl in school saw me and wouldn’t stop brushing her beautiful long hair and applying makeup and standing up demanding all the attention in the room. I went to the bathroom in between classes where I was greeted by the prettiest girl and her friends and they jumped me. They threatened if I ever pulled a stunt like that ever again I’d pay for it ! Unsure as to what I’d even done, they sneered, “Fucking Voodoo Doll, get a real super power”, and left the bathroom.

I kept my power a secret from Cooper for a short while. I ran in a few social circles just trying to figure out who I am as a hero. I realized being a Doll is difficult. Girls would own me and cut my hair , then grow it back and cut it again. They’d starve me to look thin , hate the new look and over feed me , just to starve me again. It was a cycle of self inflicted abuse that never resulted in happiness.

A week before graduation I figured was as good a time as ever to tell Cooper about me. I sent him a text “Saturday, movie night at my place.” When the day finally arrived and we got about half way into the movie I sat the popcorn bowl aside and laid my head into Coopers lap looking up at him. “Can I show you something?” I asked in almost a whisper. “Sure,” Cooper said with a small cool smile. I then proceeded to ask Cooper to spit in my mouth. Alarmed and reluctant at first, Cooper obliged and my hero spit in my mouth. I had 20 minutes (give or take) to prove my worth and show my power. I stood in front of him while he sat on the couch and started pulling down my pants, then my panties, showing him my freshly shaved little pussy. I’m aware he has a penis but when I started rubbing myself it caused him to get an erection and when I orgasmed , so did he.

“A voodoo doll, nice! So what do you call yourself?” I told him, “Just Dolly, or Doll, maybe Baby Doll if you’re feeling sweet on me .” We shared a laugh. Cooper would be going on the National Super Hero tour after graduation, and he invited ME to tag along as his sidekick, Dolly!!! I over enthusiastically accepted the role.

All 49 states were fun! Cooper was the best super hero I could have ever imagined. No one else measured up to him. Fans loved him and groupies lusted after him. He began using me and my powers: if I wore the right outfits, said the right things, went to the popular places, I could summon the women of his dreams to love , to fuck, to flirt. Whatever he needed they always showed up.

When we arrived to our hotel room in the 50th state on the tour which was Texas, Super Cooper had all the perfume, nail polish, soaps, and clothes ready for me to wear to summon whatever model or influencer he wanted tonight. I rummaged thru a pile of phone numbers from admirers that he casually tossed aside by “my” new things when I came across a business card for Paul. Paul is the representative for “The Sidekick and Comic Relief Union”. I quickly called while my Super Cooper was in the shower. I was given a brief run down of my rights and benefits I’m entitled to.

I hurriedly got dressed and ready to Cooper’s liking for a night out in town. The elevator ride to the lobby I was briefed on how I should act and behave once my powers summoned his newest queen. By the time we got to the lobby a new wave of emotion overcame me which resulted in a small outburst about my rights and entitlements! Cooper held my hand and condescendingly pacified me back into our hotel room thru my tears and yelling. The comfort was short lived when Cooper grabbed me and forced me to my knees. He reminded me I wouldn’t have any of this merchandise or life experience without him. That HE’S the one people come to see and HE’S the one saving the world. I’m just some stupid doll coming along for the ride.

His words stung like razor blade cuts and rubbing alcohol. I argued back,“I’ve missed out on LIFE and LOVE being your best friend and biggest cheerleader! I’ve been overlooked and neglected ! You NEVER considered ME out of all the times you’ve fallen in love, not ONE TIME was with ME!” Then I realized after my outburst Super Cooper was seeing me with new eyes. He leaned in for a kiss but I turned my head and he kissed the corner of my lips. I screamed as loud as I could, “NO! NOT LIKE THIS! YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND, AND IM NOT A HOMEWRECKER!” I got off my knees and told him I was leaving. He smiled at me and told me that no one would ever want a broken Doll, when he broke my right arm, then my left arm. On the floor in agony and fear that my best friend was treating me this way he kissed me for the first time. And he kept kissing me on my lips and on my face deeply and repetitively . Then Cooper began licking my face , slowly rolling his tongue back and forth across my face I was in too much pain to move or speak. Then he ripped off my shirt exposing my soft perky supple C cup breasts. He started suckling on my breasts and gently biting my nipples. He spent so much time just kissing me, licking me, and sucking my breasts, I was broken and in so much pain. I decided to stay.

After the tour, I healed. Cooper and I remained friends but realized working together was overwhelming and toxic. I’ll always love Super Cooper and wonder what could have happened between us if he saw me sooner.

THE END!

#Cooper Neidecker #Texas #superhero #high school #graduation #fanfic #fantasy #hotel fun #hotelroom #dark humor #writing inspiration #influencer #male actor #modelling #youtube #writerscorner #female writers #writerslife

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manygalaxiesinone · 6 months

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Disgaea 7 DLC Episode: Shaman King

Part 1: Anna, the Future Queen

Fuji: "Hey Piriko, you sure this is the right area?"

Pirilika: "Yup! According to the rumors, a lot of spiritual energy has been released lately around here. I bet it's a weapon of origin, Fuji!"

Fuji: "I would take you up on that... if I had the money for it. Unless if ended up being "her" I doubt anyone would use one of those weapons like that. You're just asking to become a target for thieves that way."

Pirilika: "But, that means if we agree to keep them save from targets, they'll definitely join our team, meaning one less weapon to worry about hunting down."

Fuji: "Heh, I'll admit, it's hard to argue against that."

Suddenly a loud boom could be heard from a distance.

Pirilika: "...I take it we found our target."

Fuji: "This is almost too easy. Something's not right."

-later...-

Young woman: "Hmph. What a complete waste of time."

Male fighter: "P-Please... allow me to apologize for my actions!"

Young woman: "Oh, you wish to apologize? That's funny. Last I recall, you said you'd rather be locked up in Hades then ever submit to someone of my stature."

Male fighter: "Y-You heard wrong! I was just trash talking. You know, getting myself into the fight."

Young woman: "Really, because I can simply send you to Hades myself if wish." takes out a talisman.

Male fighter: "Hold it, hold it!"

Pirilika: "What's going on here?!" runs in.

Male fighter: "Oh thank you! Please help! She's trying to kill me!"

Fuji: "Yeah, from the way you were screaming, it seems like she has a reason to do it, so why should we help?"

Pirilika: "Fuji! He must have a good reason for this. He must have been a talented warrior in the past, never backed down and never ran away no matter how difficult the challenge was, only to be defeated by a mysterious young girl out of the blue! He must be trying to make sure his reputation doesn't plummet from anyone learning about his defe-"

Young woman: "If you're quite done with your made up sob story, he promised to help me find someone only to try to rob and kill me."

Fuji: "Sounds about right. Which means you're the one that made that loud noise earlier, aren't ya?"

Young woman: "So what if I am? Are you after my beads too?"

Pirilika: "Beads? You were using those to fight? But that's not one of the we-"

Young woman: "I'm going to give you this one warning, because my patience and temper are running quite thin at the moment. Either leave or..." hits the fighter who was trying to sneak away. "end up like him."

Pirilika: "She looks real mad Fuji. Getting her to join us is going to be harder than I thought.

Fuji: "Hey, this was your idea Piriko. Then again, I think I figured out that power of hers." Gets ready to fight. "Alright, lady. You seem a little mad, so I'll cut you down a size.

Part 2: Ren, arrogant as ever.

Fuji: "Damn! This girl's a lot tougher than she looks. In fact, she reminds me a bit of..."

Young woman: "Fuji, was it? I must admit, you're very talented. So far, you're the most skilled warrior I've seen since I arrived here, even though you resort to dirty tactics."

Fuji: "Of course I fight dirty. This is the Netherworld after all."

Young woman: "The Netherworld? No wonder everything looked so...out of place."

Pirilika: "You're not from around here?"

Young woman: "My home looks similar to this, but for a while I thought I went back in time somehow. Well, that answers one question at least."

Fuji: "Just as I thought. Those beads of yours aren't one of the weapons of origin. You're just a shaman."

Pirilika: "A shaman? You mean those powerful ghost channelers that can bring hexes to their enemies like making voodoo dolls?!"

Young woman: "Something along those lines I suppose. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to find 2 other Shamen that got lost here like I have."

Pirilika: "Wait, why don't you come with us? We're exploring Hinomoto ourselves so we can help you find your friends. We WERE gonna offer you protection, but you can clearly handle your own... b-but we can show you around! It'll be like a tour."

Young woman: "...Very well. It would help to be around someone who's at least a bit familiar with the area."

Pirilika: "Nice! I'm Pirilika! Nice to meet you!"

Anna: "Anna."

Pirilika: "Alright Fuji! Mission accomplished!"

Fuji: "Yeah, not quite. Anna, one of those Shaman wouldn't happen to be a spear wielder, would he?"

Anna: "Yes...?"

Fuji: "Then you might want to look outside."

-elsewhere...-

Demon: "AAAAAAAGGGHHHH!!!"

Bason: "That makes your 25th victory in a row, Master Ren."

Ren: "Thank you for keeping track, Bason."

Bason: "Of course. Always happy to help."

Ren: "To think I found an ideal training place with so many fools bloodthirsty to fight me. At least it would be if they weren't random fodder. Perhaps I should have woken him up after all instead of leaving him there."

Anna: "Woken who up?"

Ren: ?? turns around and sees Anna. "A-A-Anna?!"

Anna: "This "who" isn't who I think it is, right Ren?"

Ren: "I- You... how long have you been standing there anyway?!"

Pirilika: "Just a few seconds."

Ren: "And who exactly are you two?"

Pirilika: "Oh, we're Anna's new friends!"

Fuji: coughs up blood. "Piriko, don't call us that?! We just met her anyway!"

Ren: "New friends? I expected this from Yoh, but not from you."

Anna: "They're simply helping me track down the two of you. Speaking of Yoh, where is he?"

Ren: "What am I, his keeper? We haven't been around each other for the past hour!"

Anna: "Is that so...? Then you left Yoh on his own to sleep for over an hour?!"

Ren: "Wait, that's not what I-"

Pirilika: "This Yoh person must be really important if Anna's this upset."

Fuji: "Yeah. I think I'd better stop her before that kid ends up unconscious...or dead. Hey Ren, how about a challenge? If I can beat you, then you take us to where Yoh is. Deal?"

Ren: "Fine. I have time right now and another victory on my streak wouldn't hurt. Bring it on!"

Part 3: Yoh, the Lazy Shaman

Ren: "I lost?! I don't believe this!"

Bason: "This now brings your current streak to 0, Master Ren."

Ren: "Not now, Bason! The only reason he won is because he played dirty!"

Fuji: "Hey, there were no rules against any of my tactics. If you don't like it, cry about it."

Pirilika: "A seal's a seal, Ren. Now, can you please tell us where Yoh is?"

Anna: "You mean "A deal's a deal", Pirilika."

Ren: "Ugh, whatever. This is starting to give me a headache anyway. Don't think I'll forget this, Fuji."

Fuji: "Yeah, yeah, heard it before, just take us to the last Shaman already."

Ren: (How did Anna manage to befriend these two of all people?)

-later...-

Young man: "..."

Spirit: "I can't believe he managed to take a nap at a time like this. He does realize that Anna's going to kill him the moment she sees him, right?" *sighs* "We've been transported to who knows where and completely separated from everyone and he doesn't have a care in the world. Who am I kidding. The world would be coming to an end in any second and Yoh would still sleep it off like it's nothing. I guess that's just the kind of guy that he is."

Anna: "You're telling me."

Spirit: -!!- "A-A-A-A-A-A-A..."

Anna: "Hello, Amidamaru..."

Amidamaru: "YOH!!! WAKE UP NOW!!!"

Yoh: "Huh? What's wrong Amidamaru? Is it lunch time already?"

Amidamaru: "No, but we ARE in grave danger right now!"

Yoh: "Really? Did Hao send someone after us?"

Anna: "Afraid not..."

Yoh: -!!- "A-A-A-A-A-A-Anna?! W-W-What a surprise! I'm glad to see you're okay!"

Anna: "Slacking off on your training again, Yoh?"

Yoh: "N-No! Of course not. I was just... enjoying the nice wind blowing through here, that's all."

Anna: "I warned you before Yoh, lying only makes it worse."

Yoh: "It's the truth, I swear!"

Fuji: "Oh, I know that look anywhere. Even I can't help but feel a little sorry for Yoh right now."

Pirilika: "Really? How come?"

Fuji: "He's about punished big time. It's best that we don't get caught in the crossfire."

Amidamaru: "You know the struggle, demon?"

Fuji: "Oh yeah. I have a master who's almost exactly like Anna."

Ren: "In that case, no wonder you're so powerful."

Bason: "Poor soul came face to face with death every single day."

Pirilika: "I feel like I'm missing something here..."

Amidamaru: "Try to keep it that way."

Yoh: "Hold on, Anna, I'll make it up to ya! I'll do anything!"

Anna: "...Very well."

Yoh: "Huh... really?"

Anna: "To be fair, it isn't your fault we got lost in this new world. I can't blame you for it."

Yoh: "R-Right! Thanks for understan-"

Anna: "That said, it's clear that you need to work on keeping your mind sharp. Therefore, I have the perfect plan. Fuji, would you be so kind as to fight against Yoh here?"

Fuji: "I'm on it! No problem!"

Pirilika: "Hey, how come you agreed to help her out right off the hat?!"

Fuji: "First, it's "right off the bat" and second, I'm not making her mad no matter what you pay me."

Anna: "Feel free to use whatever tactics you wish. Just make sure he stays alive."

Amidamaru: "Looks like there's no getting out of this one, Yoh."

Yoh: "Eh, it could be a lot worse. Come on, Amidamaru!"

-after the battle...-

Both Fuji and Yoh are out of breath after a lot of fighting.

Fuji: "Is that... all ya got?"

Yoh: "I dunno... you tell me..."

Anna: "That's enough. Thank you for whipping my fiancé into shape."

Fuji: "Please don't... thank me...wait...fiancé?!"

Pirilika: "No way! You two are getting married?!"

Yoh: "Did we...forget to mention that?"

Fuji: "Talk about...lover's quarrel..."

Yoh: "So... what now?"

Ren: "I suppose all that's left is to find a way back home."

Amidamaru: "That's going to be much easier said than done since we don't even know how we got here."

Pirilika: "If you all need a place to stay, you can stick with me on my ship. It's got plenty of room, so you're more than welcome."

Anna: "Are you sure that's alright?"

Pirilika: "Of course! I did say we'd show you around Hinomoto after all, didn't I? This is just the beginning of our tour!"

Yoh: "Sounds like a lot of fun. I'd say we take her up on her offer."

Ren: "You just want a place to eat and sleep as much as you want."

Bason: "I doubt that would be possible with Anna around him."

Pirilika: "Oh, since they're soon-to-be husband and wife, they can share a room together."

Fuji: "You're only going to make it worse."

Anna: "A rather sound suggestion, Pirilika. We accept."

Pirilika: "Awesome! You're all going to love it! I promise!"

#disgaea 7 #shaman king #yoh asakura #ren tao #anna kyoyama #pirilika #fuji

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50centexecutivembaclass · 7 months

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youtube

Very very true I'm not a religious debator I don't argue with Muslims , 5 Percenters or Israelites I'm an ex drug dealer that got kicked off my team along time ago but I redeemed myself and is on a much better team now ROC Nation literature my spot on the bench I will take it , it's ROC and Jay Z maybe I will get to perform ( play ) one day but just being on Jay Z roster is okay for me that's Hov and I could just say I'm on his team and it be true but I got on with him because I'm a builder my program and that I eventually figure it out one day because I seek education like I will eventually find myself an job , and somewhere say to live that fits me and my lifestyle , he paid for my life at an auction thank you Jay Z and Beyonce black royalty bailed me out and he offered me a job of recording music with his team if I could just get there I been in drama with Muslims , 5 Percenters and Christians , city workers and black kids that is using voodoo witchcraft on me along with police and correction officers please get off of me and no I ain't cool with me disrespecting me ever and never will be and I don't answer to people trying to be god over me that will never work for me and that is no good and I really don't know a true religious person that does that no thank you and I always loved books since my mom's house and started reading again when I moved to Brooklyn and no I don't get into circles and attempt to let somebody tell me who I am or who they think I am when the book say different and whoever I say I am that is what I am and which ain't really important no more and no it ain't nobody god over me or me god over them and I don't mess with religious people that will kill or hurt people because of religious debates that is dissension and weakness and how you black or Spanish and haven't read Carter G Woodson . The miseducation of a negro yet you got to read it definite banger and classic get your mind right my cousin gave it to me she a CEO must of meant read it , I read it mad times instant classic you gotta get that book and no I don't mess with voodoo witchcraft or people that practice I wish they will get off of me with that voodoo curse and yes I'm about money building helping is my passion of mines and I got famous from doing it and yes I'm a king just like you though by having knowledge of self I know who you are who you truly are and yes I was a drug dealer that was my vocation my trade and skills and yes I legalized drugs so the Dope boys can get out of jail and stay out of jail on my honor I was one that was my daily activity and no I don't knock their hustle I know what is for me and I moved on from the street life I more like pass laws to help them now because no I don't mess with people that talk to me disrespectfully no disrespect and no press for me and no stress for me I just want to get it to you that I do run my own life and I'm done with every game, case and places where you playing with me at and leave me alone I'm about accomplishing stuff and of course big business and I guess I gotta learn concert performance that is what the Ed Sheeran apple music tour is for it is for me he did that for me to learn , thank you .

It is very good to see Camron and Mase again on their show I just saw it and Mase claiming me well it is about time we from the same borough they would be considered my OG my big homies my family that is true basically I'm from their family tree the way it is with me they took me on as a helper a builder in New York and the world and Cam referred me to Roc Nation me just saying it makes it true that how much family we are and Joey Fat Joe from the bronx just put me back on the team the bench which I accepted and Mase and Cam go back as my big brothers that make dope hot music and got their new show please tune it is hot and ask Mase what's with album your music hot bro and I sit on the bench and be quiet what had happened it just some guys I grew up with including my brother which is their brother we all family got me back now I'm like an football player with it I got hit hard by a 300 pound linebacker now back to the huddle and snap that is people I knew since elementary plus my aunt's sisters and cousins over there off the females in our family we aight so their is no trying to kill each other no we will fight like brothers do all the time because we brothers but I'm an athlete and I want to play again I'm on the bench but I do gotta train myself I just been hit hard get back up and go back to my team , Mase , Cam , Vado , Jae Millz , MK we all from the same neighborhood and is family so yes we are cool and all them got super super dope ass music and movements that you need to tune into I know I am and I can't say nothing different .

This is my culture and my house in Harlem and where Teyana Taylor is from she from my hometown in New York City I love her music and movies and no I'm not racist neither is my culture and remember my brother and sister is white Caucasian if anything is said that seems racist in my culture it is to explain the injustices and all the inequalities done to us by another people for centuries that left a scar on us as a community as a people as a people in general in job offerings job opportunities the wages we are paid and then how we see and love ourselves and our fate and what we feel our probabilities and chances in life are for us which was and kinda still is created for us by another people and even as Individuals as humans we suffer from done to us against us as a people black people I came to realize her movie is teaching me about life and taking care of myself 1001 pushups and about my resume writing , job interview and cover letter skills then I have to show the courts I rehabilitated with that program I'm in now the bridge back to life program referred to me by industry people and I have to accept that where I'm at in life and go from there the order is

Cover letters

Resumes

Job application letters

Job interviews like learning how to talk on the job interview

Then you get the job and then chase the big stuff like stardom some do it without a job my brand is my intelligence and I do own my own library in New York City with an education and knowledge everything is possible so need to go crazy or turn into an active shooter when you have a great resource like a library I own my library and I'm proud of myself learning the correct procedure and process is great but you know in a world where people unprofessionalism can cause you anxiety and worry is a major problem that is all our curse . I have to learn my way in the job market and then go from there and live a good normal existence , so sorry to her your music is dope to me Teyana I love you and everything about you and your movie is good and yes I remember Mike from NBC over there in Rockefeller center he shot me down for a job a while back and it was my unpreparedness that made him do that now I have professors like Prince Harry that stack me with books , Teyana thank you , and I got a chance to go to my friend Nas store the Sweet Chick store it was cozy and put me back at home in New York City that was cool , Love Nas . Riddle solved lotta work to do and train hope the best for you read the books and learn it is amazing we make ourselves by the education we give ourselves .

Thank you to the city of Brooklyn New York City for the Biggie smalls statue in front of 360 Adams street the statue symbolizing that I have stage fright that is what it means and what is taking me so long is stage fright hopefully I break out of that as soon I get on a stage any stage I said thank you to Brooklyn I have to learn my way out of that it is my 3rd picture or statue as me as the late great deceased rapper Biggie Smalls of course his memory will live on forever through his mom's and his kids , his community and all communities especially communities in Brooklyn his city his borough from the 5 Boroughs of New York City in honor of New York City .

#Youtube

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mainsballs · 2 years

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Ipanic lakeland

#IPANIC LAKELAND CODE#

Overall we had a great time! They even give you a coupon for your next room after you finish. After we finished they'd said they recommend the shipwrecked room for several people. If you aren't sure, call them or just ask when you get there. If you do go for a date night, I would recommend one of the 20 minute rooms or both. They did give us a couple of clues but it was a lot of fun, too. We decided to try an easier one called abracadabra afterwards and that one we got with 30 seconds to spare. We did not escape in time but at the end they showed us what the next steps would have been and there's no way we would've finished. Lakeland is a city in Polk County, Florida, located along Interstate 4 east of Tampa. This room was HARD! We literally would have never figured it out if they didn't give us clues along the way! View Lakeland Square Mall (location in Florida, United States, revenue, industry and description. What I failed to realize when making our appointment online was that we chose the hardest room according to the staff. Get put in one of our escape rooms with one goal: Escape before time runs out Immerse yourself in our state of the art rooms. With that said the only thing we had an issue with was the scent in the room due to recently having Covid.We had a great time!! My husband and I came here for a date night and our very first escape room experience. My fiancé and I both love escape rooms and ipanic is one of our favorites. They were all fun though, would highly recommend!" I especially loved the voodoo themed room just because there are not many other rooms with that theme that we’ve visited. Can you FIND THE TREASURE Premier Escape Room located in beautiful Downtown Lakeland next to Gent's Classic Cuts Work together as a team to search the room for clues, solve puzzles and riddles, and decode locks to ESCAPE within 60 minutes All of our Escape Games are private and will accommodate 2-8 guests. The puzzles are interesting, definitely some things we’ve never seen before. The rooms a super fun and the game masters do a fantastic job of running things and making sure everyone has a good time. Buy the Gift Card accepted at iPanic Escape Room Lakeland and any other independent business in Lakeland, FL. We had Dave and Terence as game masters and they were both fantastic. We called ahead of time to explain that we would like to do all of the rooms while we were there and Dave set us up and was very welcoming. "My husband and I live in Orlando and took a trip out to Lakeland for a night away. They currently feature four different escape rooms. /rebates/2fdeals2fipanic-escape-room&. Search Lakeland, FL Arcades & Amusements to find the top rated Arcades.

#IPANIC LAKELAND CODE#

Use promo code LoyalCustomer for $5 off." iPanic Escape Room is an amusement center located in Lakeland, FL, right inside the Lakeland Square Mall. Game masters (Eric and Shelby) were great and the price was of the rooms was competitive as well. Not the most difficult but the theming was good, puzzles logical, everything made sense and worked correctly. 776 likes 7 talking about this 497 were here. "We have done over rooms and think these rooms were very good. These are super fun experiences for both newbies and enthusiasts alike!" We played as a group of two and enjoyed the challenge. We had such a great time playing all three -minute adventures. "To start - our host, Dave, was INCREDIBLE!! His passion for the business and the escape room industry was immediately evident. "I went with a group of teachers and we had so much fun! Our game master, Dave was awesome! I would definitely take my family next time I go."

#Ipanic lakeland

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anthonysstupiddailyblog · 2 years

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Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (149): Wed 10th Aug 2022

I was supposed to be out of the hostel at 10 o'clock but there was one plug socket in the entire room and I wasn't about to go the whole day with a phone on 10% so I stayed there an extra hour charging my phone. If they'd have tried to tell me off for staying longer than my allocated time and using up their electricity I would have just his them with one of my spinning samurai ninjutsu kicks and made their bollocks explode. On the subject of phone charger I was wondering why big cities don't have shops where you can go in and charge your phone or better yet have little lockers with sockets in them where you can leave them to charge. People caught short could pay a couple of quid to get a boost of energy for their phones. I mean it would be extortionate and I would definitely curse loudly if I ever needed to use one but it would still be a money making idea. Now that I've put the idea out there watch how quickly these shops will pop up. Same as when I came up with the idea for the Gumbrella (an umbrella with a toothbrush on the handle), I mentioned this idea on my blog but never pursued the idea then someone else patented it and now every cunt has one. After my phone was charged I headed off to see my first show of the day The Graveyard. This is the story about two sailors being held in horrendous conditions in a jail in the blistering heat somewhere in India. The play is them reminiscing about the lead-up to a shipwreck they were involved in and the adventures they had on the island before they ended up being captured and thrown in jail. The first third of the show is mostly done for laughs but then there's a tonal change and it takes a very macabre turn. I won't go into too much detail but the ship that these two survivors were on was sketchy to say the least and they very much deserve the torment they are being put through in the jail. After this show I wandered around the city for a couple of hours and was given about 100 fliers from the various people promoting their shows. Even though I had no intention of going to any of these shows I will still go onto their social media pages and say that I did go and thought that they were shit. Seriously though I think that a nice thing I could do is actually write good reviews of their shows even if I haven't seen them because the people reading the reviews don't know that and any additional good press they get could result in them being able to come back next year. Man I really am the nicest guy in the world aren't I? Next I was off to the Pleasance to see my final show of the Fringe Bogeyman. I knew that this was something to do with Haiti and thought it might have a similar theme to The Graveyard but it was quite a different show. It basically featured four performers giving a brief history of Haiti and voodoo, there's no real plot per se. However there was a great bit in the middle where they speak about an urban legend that diabetes is actually a curse put on the white slave owners by the Haitian slaves for making them work in the sugarcane fields. If this were true then it would be strange for the slaves to create two versions of this curse, one that can be managed through diet and exercise and one that is actually quite serious curse. Why would they even include a manageable version of the curse. Just do the really nasty one. I didn't end up going to see Stewart Lee because I was a bit paranoid that this might be the time he's recording the performance and I might end up on camera. I did try to find the venue for my intended final show of the Fringe "The Unicorn" but try as I might I just couldn't figure out where the fuck it was so I just headed for the train station instead. When I got there there were two little girls having quite a brawl in the middle of the station while a dozen other kids jeered at them. I thought about stepping in but then another adult actually did step in and one of the little kids screamed at her so loud that she recoiled in horror and fucked off so clearly this little shit was not to be messed with. Eventually the police turned up and took the girl who was apparently the instigator away. Never a dull moment at the Fringe. I had a nice non-alcoholic beer in the train station until my train finally arrived and I bid farewell to the Edinburgh Festival for another year. This time around was much more enjoyable than last year because there was so much more going on and the weather has been awesome. I want to be a completely new person when I go to next year's Fringe for starters I want to be in really good shape and I also want to be covered in tattoos. Every time I go there, there's a guy there who offers £100 to anyone who can hang from a pole for two minutes and next time I go there I want to be able to do this and win the money. To do this I'll try to lose as much weight as possible and strengthen my grip / wrists. My plan is to go to this guy multiple times a day, each time in a different disguise and make a fucking fortune off of him. On the train ride home I finally finished reading New Orleans Mourning. When I started reading this I was still working at TSB and if you'd have told me that I would be in a completely new job by the time I finished the fucker I wouldn't have believed you. I mean I'm a slow reader but I didn't think I was this slow. I got back to Sunderland at 11 at night and since I hadn't had any proper food to eat all day I went into town to get a pizza. Even though I don't go out partying any more it's still quite surreal to see what a ghost town Sunderland has become as it used to be renowned for it's nightlife whereas nowadays there's only a handful of clubs still open and hardly any slags. As I was waiting for my pizza a homeless guy asked if I had any spare change which I didn't as I only had my card. He then asked if I would buy him a can of pop which I did. He then went into the pizza shop barefoot and asked the guy behind the counter if he could leave his trainers behind the counter as they were killing him at which point he was told to leave and I realized that he wasn't homeless he was just mental. Very surreal end to a surreal day.

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pastelpaperplanes · 4 years

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Besides Yoketron, did Lockdown have any mentor figures in his life? What was his early life like? Does he see alot of himself in Cozen or mostly Prowl?

Lockdown was the first student Yoketron took under his personal care at the dojo. Yoketron was always a mentor figure to Lockdown and nothing more, the two butted heads quite a lot and Lockdown never really learned the whole ‘respect your Master’ bit of his training

Yoketron didn’t blame Lockdown for his abrasive and rude behavior though. He was an orphaned ‘halfbreed’ and was sent to be under the care of the Dojo as the Elite Guard’s last ditch effort to set him on a straight and narrow path. While Lockdown never spoke about how others (including his superiors) treated him for simply just being him, Yoketron can take a pretty good guess from the way he flinched whenever someone raised their hands too quickly, or the nasty, mangled protoform scarring, and what it looked like to be a thrice broken, improperly healed right hand he’d been hiding.

Essentially High Command wanted the Dojo to whip him into shape as a good and obiedient soldier with their ‘freaky voodoo ninja magic’ it was either you fix him, or he goes. Whatever that meant. Lockdown wasnt a pure blooded Bot, so it’s not like he’d pose for anything good in their perfect Autobot society if he couldn’t follow even the simplest of commands.

(YALL. this is horrible and heartbreaking and I know it. I do not portray Autobot society, ESPECIALLY right after the Great War, to be kind or accepting towards mecha who did not come straight off of their Forge assembly line as perfect soldiers)

Lockdown was part of the last group mecha born under the rare but still present generation of sparklings. All Decepticons were banished from the major cities and into deep space, while Decepticon fraternizers or sympathizers either went missing, or simply got lucky if they managed to escape the Roundups.

Lockdown doesn’t remember his Creators at all and doesn’t know if he was traded, abandoned, or seized. All he’s ever know is that he is alone, and as far as the Elite Guard is concerned, he will either be a cog in their machine or he will be nothing but fuel for The Forge.

Yoketron volunteered for the job of watching over this battered but still very much a helluva spitfire angsty teen. Lockdown refused to meditate because it was just a ‘glorified time out’ and it was ‘stupid’. Lockdown was a night owl while Yoketron was an early riser, they had a lot of arguments about what proper training times should be.

Yoketron of course did get to see small moments of clarity and joy on Lockdown’s face in all their years or training, like when Lockdown managed to sweep his pedes from under him, or the first time he was able to sneak up on his Master. Smiles on Lockdown’s face left as quick as they came.

Lockdown would never admit out loud that he truly felt safe when he was with Yoketron, he would probably try to hug him again and Lockdown was NOT about to let his Master get soft with him

As time went on, his training progressed and he just about grasped everything Yoketron had to offer. All except for processor over matter, which left Lockdown spitting curses every time Yoketron had him attempt to open the Dojo’s Protoform Chambers. He could never quite get that final part of his training and it tore him to pieces.

In an attempt to ease Lockdown’s frustration, Yoketron sent him on his own optics quest. That would be the last time Yoketron saw his pupil before the the infamous Dojo Raid.

Unfortunately Lockdown got caught up with the wrong bots while on his quest. Decepticons were far more accepting than he could’ve hoped for, they offered shelter, free space travel, energon, and comraderie in exchange for his help in some ‘harmless’ mercenary work. Taking out bots along the way we’re just little prices that had paid in order to make a statement back at the Elite Guard High Command.

During this time Lockdown met a young, but extremely talented Decepticon mercenary named Deadlock, who recommended he try and secure a place at the table of factionless and most notorious bounty hunters in the galaxy,,,a small gang of sorts, one of which he wanted to truly be including in their ring he’d have to lead a hunt worth some BIG CREDITS to keep his place.

Lockdown knew of only one chamber that could hold something so priceless,,,,so priceless that it could put him in the top dog spot if he led this hunt.

The night of his costly, but successful Raid, Lockdown decided two things: he never again wanted to see the look on a mecha’s face as he pulled the trigger, and he will from now on always work alone.

It turns out that mercenaries have only their eyes on the prize, friends and family who stand in the way are only easy, pleading targets. No amount of begging or bribery could convince the crew to let his Master go, it was either you do the job now, or we’ll have some fun and string it out a bit. The Golden Rule of Hunting: No loose ends.

When it was all over land said and done, Lockdown’s crew dragged their broken leader back onboard with all of the Chamber Protoforms secure. No one thought it would be any good to let him know that in fact his Master’s suffering spark was still flickering within the rubble of the Dojo. Not until one of them while during their drunken celebration let that little piece of information slip.

With his mind made up, Lockdown disposed of his inebriated crew out the airlock, and had them pray some ship out somewhere out in deep space picked them up before their fuel tanks ran dry.

Not knowing who or where to turn to with his expensive cargo in bay, Lockdown ditched his buyer and sold them off to the Decepticons in hopes that if he could get in anyone’s good graces, it would be the next most powerful organization in the galaxy.

With his riches under belt, Lockdown bought himself a nice secluded ship, nearly drank himself to death multiple times, then later got caught up in his obsessive addiction to mods in hopes to tear up the pieces of himself that reminded him of his worst crime.

As the years passed and his jobs became more damanding, Lockdown easily took the throne as the most ruthless and efficient bounty hunter to have ever lived. He may claim to have found his calling, but Lockdown knows that now matter how many fancy new mods he buys, he’ll never be able to replace the mech he called Master.

As for who he sees more in Cozen, it’s Prowl, and he couldn’t be more proud. Cozen may have his attitude, but deep down he knows his kid has a kind spark and is selfless above all.

#—inhale #A N G S T #so lockdown murdered his totally not dad for a spot with this cool kids then tore aprt his frame for the following millennia of his life #as penance #BUT!!#the best thing hes ever done and ever will do is giving his sparklings a much better life than what he started out with #hes beyond relieved that on the inside Cozen is so much more like prowl than him #sure they share a lot of the same looks but his kid reminds him of prowl everyday in the little things he does #like trying to bring plants onboard after lockdown’s on planet supply runs #or giving bunco his extra thermal blanket in their pillow forts even when he doesnt ask for it #or when hes mad he’ll stick his sharp little face in a pout just like prowl did #ld just hopes he did right by prowl in raising their kid to be better than him in every way he can manage :’)#also YES #Teen Lockdown was a TWIG. STING BEAN. now you know where sparkling cozen gets it from dhdbsjbdd #transformers #asks #my art #abuse tw #cybertron’s future au #lockdown #cozen #yoketron #tfa lockdown #master yoketron #transformers animated

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happyandticklish · 3 years

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Sensitive Connections - Part One

Notes: Based off a conversation I had with @tickles-tea and some others about the intermingling of voodoo magic into the drrr universe, and thus this was born. It ended up a tad longer than I expected, as I got vaguely carried away with exposition.

Summary: Shinra comes into possession of an exciting new artifact that he’s eager to show his friend.

Shinra was practically vibrating with excitement when he met Izaya at the door, quickly flinging it open before sprinting back to the earlier room without so much as a word of greeting to the other. Izaya blinked, hand still raised where it had previously rested against the door in the imitation of a knock.

“Hello to you too,” he said, narrowing his eyes with vague irritation. “And such a warm welcome…”

Shinra popped his head back into the hall, seeming surprised that Izaya had not already followed him. “You got my call, then?”

“If by call, you mean the voicemail I received in the middle of the night calling me over here for some ‘strange new phenomenon you discovered, urgent’, then yes, I received it,” Izaya said, hanging his coat by the door and kicking off his shoes. “This couldn’t have waited till morning?”

Shinra wrinkled his eyebrows, giving his friend a strange look. “Well, I mean, it could have. I honestly didn’t think you would come right away. I didn’t imagine you would be this invested.”

Izaya bristled at the implication, but before he could say anything in argument, Shinra had moved back to the living room. Izaya sighed, following after him reluctantly.

Shinra stood triumphantly before the table in the center of the room, whereupon lied a simple doll. It appeared to be made of felt, almost like that of a stuffed animal, and was entirely featureless save two black buttons sowed where its eyes would be. Stitches crisscrossed its body, giving it a disjointed looking appearance. It sat utterly splayed out on the center of the table, its single occupant.

Izaya glanced between Shinra and the doll a couple times, attempting to decipher what he was looking at. “You called me here, in the middle of the night, for a… doll? A toy?”

“It’s not a toy,” Shinra countered, waving one hand at the notion. “This doll is actually one of the most powerful artifacts in this entire household.”

Izaya raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh.”

Shinra sighed, rolling his head back as he searched for a way to explain it. “How much do you know about the ancient art of witchcraft and the occult?”

Izaya had come across the concepts many times over the years, though he’d never devoted that much interest to them as he considered them the wild fantasies of fools. Admittedly, meeting Celty had certainly bought the ideas more validity, but each and every time he tried to look into it, he found himself unable to take the ideas seriously.

“Not much,” he admitted honestly, picking up the doll and examining it. It had a deceptively innocent appearance, that, knowing Shinra, was sure to be disproven soon. “Is this a talisman of some sort?”

“How do you know what a talisman is but not a voodoo doll?”

“Is that what this is?”

“Yep.” Shinra peered over Izaya’s shoulder, smiling affectionately down at the doll like a proud parent would. “Pretty cool, huh?”

Voodoo. That made sense. Izaya was vaguely familiar with the concept, mostly from pop culture and casual references of it over the years. Now that he was looking closer at the doll, he wasn’t sure how he had failed to pick up on it earlier. Leave it to Shinra to find something like this.

“And how exactly did you come into possession of it?” Izaya asked, glancing back at the other.

“Well, I’m not sure how much of that I could safely confess, but I can tell you that I received it from a good friend.”

“A good friend?” Izaya racked his brain, trying to think of the people Shinra was in association with. Celty, of course, and Shizuo, but he doubted the brute would have managed to acquire something like that. Celty maybe, but it was unlikely that she would care for such things. For some reason it irked him that there might be someone else Shinra was close friends with, close enough for a favor of this size.

“Of sorts,” Shinra agreed. He noticed the look in Izaya’s eyes, smirking suddenly. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“Of course not,” Izaya sniffed, tossing the doll back on the table. He whirled around, falling into onto the couch absently. “So how does this thing work exactly?”

An excited glimmer entered Shinra’s eyes, the likes of which Izaya had encountered many times over the years. It meant that the info broker would not be leaving the flat for quite some time. “I’m glad you asked. We’re still trying to work out the theory of it. Based off the myth, sensations placed upon the doll will be reciprocated on the owner, without any physical marks. For instance, if you pricked it with a pin, there would be no evidence on the owner of any kind of damage, but they would feel it as if it had poked them all the same.”

“The owner,” Izaya mused, leaning his head back. A vague hint of devilish interest entered his tone. “So are you the owner then? I think I would quite enjoy stabbing needles into you after all you’ve done to me.”

“Done to you?” Shinra scoffed incredulously, rolling his eyes at the other. “What have I ever done to you?”

“The time I was stabbed and you just—” Izaya started, but Shinra quickly cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“Okay, okay, point taken! I guess you could say we’ve both done some pretty horrendous things to one another.” Shinra sighed, taking a seat besides him. “The answer is no, by the way, to your question. I considered it, in the beginning, but Celty quickly vetoed it. She insisted it would be too dangerous, especially considering we don’t know if there are any harmful effects of it yet.”

“So it’s blank right now?” Izaya confirmed, throwing a suspicious glance back over at the doll. Its empty face gazed back at him, devoid of sympathy. He felt an unmistakable shudder make its way down his spine.

Shinra nodded, oblivious to Izaya’s inner conflict. “It could just be considered a normal doll in its current state. You’d have to actually connect it to a person for it to activate into anything.”

Izaya couldn’t tear his gaze away from the doll. There was something captivating about the concept that held his curiosity like a moth to a flame. He wanted—no, needed—to know more about it. Even as he grew more invested in the subject, however, he felt strangely reluctant to let the other in on his interest.

“Say you were to attach it to a person,” Izaya said slowly, trying to force as much nonchalance into his tone as possible as he spoke. “How would one go about that process?”

For the next half hour Shinra spoke excitedly, laying out details and charts and theorems before the other, entirely unaware of how closely Izaya was listening. Eventually, Shinra had to excuse himself to go grab something from his lab for demonstration. He bounded down the stairs, leaving Izaya utterly alone in the apartment.

He couldn’t explain what called him to do it. Only that before he knew what was happening, Izaya had snatched the doll from the table, racing over to the door where his coat remained hanging. He quickly pulled it on, shoving the doll inside its folds and out of eyesight. He was just shoving on his shoes when Shinra returned, holding a small object in his hands with wires sticking out of. Heaven only knew what it was meant to be, and Izaya certainly didn’t have time to find out.

Shinra tilted his head in confusion when he saw him, frowning. “Izaya? Where are you going?”

“I just figured it was getting late, you know,” Izaya explained breezily, quickly brushing the issue aside as he tugged on his final shoe. “I have quite the busy life, you know; wouldn’t want to disappoint any of the many people waiting for me.”

“You mean your online friends?” Shinra asked wryly as Izaya opened the door, waltzing merrily out of it.

“Try not to be jealous, my dear Shinra—it doesn’t look good on you.”

Shinra shook his head as the door closed on him, smiling indulgently.

The clock ticked slowly on the wall. Three in the morning. Izaya spun slowly around in his desk chair, hands steepled under his chin. He glanced back at the doll. Two emotionless buttons stared back at him. He spun himself around once more, kicking off on his desk. The room whirled around as his thoughts did the same.

The drive home had held a strange energy to it, a mixture of excitement, nerves, and growing interest in the doll shoved inside his jacket. For once he was silenced, a blessing that the taxi driver escorting him was highly grateful for.

The walk to the door had been silent as well, a calm, practiced walk that spoke nothing of the ancient mythos hidden on his person. With every step up the stairs of his apartment, he could feel its weight. It was only once he finally set it upon his desk and was faced with the blank doll once more, a harmless toy, nothing more, that he began to feel maybe he was overreacting over the whole situation.

He pressed his foot to his desk, catching himself on his final spin. “I suppose there would be no harm in trying,” he mused at last to the empty room; Namie had taken the evening off for some unnamed activity she refused to reveal, so he had the place to himself for the night. “After all, the worst that can happen is I discover it truly is a simple doll after all and this whole evening has been a waste of my time.”

Reaching up, he pinched a stand of hair between his fingers, tugging firmly. He winced at the momentary pain, rubbing his scalp.

Shinra had explained the process of connecting the doll to an owner thoroughly, at Izaya’s bored request. There were a couple different methods one could try, but the simplest one would be to connect a piece of the chosen owner to the doll in one fashion or another. Izaya wrapped the hair carefully about the doll’s arm so as not to break it, tying it into a gentle but resolute knot.

Feeling a tad silly about the whole situation, he pressed his thumb to the doll’s forehead, tracing down to its chest and finally stomach, reciting as he did so, “I name you—Izaya Orihara.”

Afterwards, he removed his thumb, placing the doll once more on the table, and waited. For a while, nothing happened. No strike of lightning or crash of thunder, no cupboards rattling with sinister intent. Outside he could hear cars honking and racing past each other as people shrieked in joyous conversation. Nothing out of the ordinary for the bustling city. His body felt entirely his own, the only things he could feel being the leather of his chair and the slight stinging of his head from earlier.

Izaya sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. “Well, I can’t say I’m not surprised,” he said wryly, reaching out for the doll. “After all, what did I expect coming to Shinra for—”

He sentence broke off halfway in shock. Where his fingers had brushed against the doll, Izaya had felt a bolt of mirrored sensation run up his arm, sending pleasant shudders down his back. He jerked back with a start, narrowing his eyes. His fingers were curled hesitantly in midair from where they had retreated. After a moment, he reached out once more, stroking a finger down its arm. Again, sensation crawled unbidden up his skin and he instinctively shook his arm to rid himself of it, though the action did nothing to alleviate the feeling.

Izaya’s eyes widened. “Incredible,” he murmured softly, fascination lighting up his features. Quickly, he opened one of the many drawers in his desk, retrieving a pen. He held it up, carefully poking the doll up its leg. He winced as he felt the minor pain reflected in his own body, his leg tensing up with each stab.

A sudden shriek of a whistle interrupted his thoughts and he nearly fell out of his chair, his heart slamming about a mile a minute in his chest. The kettle. Of course. He had completely forgotten he had set it on. He quickly stood up, leaving the doll and the pen discarded upon the table as he sprinted to retrieve the screaming pot.

Removed to the kitchen now, he entirely missed the sound of the door opening and the disgruntled voice of Shizuo calling out, “Hello?”

Upon receiving no answer, Shizuo sighed, slowly clicking the door shut behing him and collapsing against it in exhaustion. The rounds that night had seemed to go on forever, and almost every client had decided that day of all days to pick a fight for reasons entirely unknown to the tired man. Tom had offered to let him go early, but Shizuo hadn’t wanted to leave the other alone. So he had stayed. And now it was three in the morning and all he wanted to do was sleep.

He dropped his stuff by the door, wearily making his way over to the living area where Izaya usually spent most of his time. He glanced around, but the info broker was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he found a bland doll thrown haphazardly on his desk in his place.

Shizuo raised an eyebrow. Knowing Izaya, it almost definitely wasn’t as harmless as it seemed. “Izaya? You there?”

Izaya paused midway through the process of pouring the kettle, his heart stuttering a little in his chest at the sound of the voice. He had almost forgotten Shizuo had promised to stay the night with the other amongst the chaos of everything Shinra had shown him.

“Late, are you?” he called out in response. “I was starting to think you had run off with Tom instead.”

Shizuo huffed a laugh, taking a seat in the leather-bound chair. “And what if I had?”

“Then I would burn to the ground everything you loved until you returned,” Izaya replied blithely.

“Mm, that’ll be unfortunate for you then. Deciding to experiment in self-arson, Iza?”

Izaya chose to ignore the heat creeping up his neck at the nickname. He poured the remains of the water into the pot, hopping upon the counter as he waited for the mixture to steep. “Flattery will get you nowhere, my dear brute.”

Shizuo smiled fondly, the exhaustion receding slightly as he fell into the ease of conversation. He turned his attention back towards the doll on the desk, wondering at its hidden purpose. There was no way in hell it was just some toy. He picked up it slowly, holding it up to his face as he turned it left and right in examination.

Sitting on the counter, Izaya’s mouth fell open in a surprised O as he felt a warmth clutch his body tightly, the comforting presence of a human body when there was nothing there. At first he was taken over by the sudden panic that maybe he had truly gone insane after all these years, when he remembered the doll sitting on his desk.

Shit.

Izaya slid off the counter with the intention of intervening, but before he could a sudden poke at his stomach made him jump, his mouth clamping down on a strangled yelp. Just as soon as he’d begun to regain his bearings from the first attack, there was another poke, this one angled down more towards his hips and sides. Izaya’s nerves flared up in anticipation, and he squeaked, falling quickly back against the counter, holding on with one hand for support.

Shizuo, meanwhile, had no idea of the effect he was having on the other. He innocently poked the doll as he searched for some kind of switch or button to activate whatever the toy’s true purpose was. He traced his fingers over the stitches lined haphazardly over the doll, scratching curiously at a cluster of them gathered at Izaya’s hip.

Izaya’s knees crumpled at the fluttery sensation, his face breaking out into a helpless grin. “S-Shizuo!” he stammered, sliding down to the ground. “Wait!”

“What is it?” Shizuo asked, momentarily stopping his attempts. “Wait for what?”

Izaya warily regained his footing, worried all the while for a sudden attack. “Nothing,” he responded, making his way out of the kitchen, tea entirely forgotten. He flashed him a disarming smile, hoping for a distraction. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Izaya—”

“Ah, I see you’ve discovered my secret,” Izaya interrupted, nodding towards the doll. “I found it on the road this morning and figured it belonged to one of the various Ikebukuro brats. I was just going to go out and try to return it.”

“You were…what?” Shizuo asked, genuine confusion wrinkling his brow. “You were going to return it?”

“Yes,” Izaya snapped impatiently, moving forward to try and snatch the doll out of the other’s hands. “So if you could just—”

“Since when have you cared about children?” Shizuo demanded, jerking the doll back and out of his reach.

“I’ve decided to branch out in my hobbies, now will you just—ah!” Izaya’s arm shot back where it had been reaching for the doll, coming down to snap against his side. When Shizuo had moved the doll back, his thumb had curled into its sides accidentally, shooting sparks of sensation throughout Izaya’s core. It was still there, still digging in, and fuck, Izaya was going to kill him.

Shizuo narrowed his eyes at the other. Izaya was strangely doubled over on his desk, but instead of a grimace of pain, his lips were turned up into a wobbly grin. Experimentally, he moved his thumb again and Izaya twitched, the softest of noises leaving his mouth.

“Izaya,” Shizuo said slowly, rubbing his thumb over that same spot on the doll’s side as he talked. “Mind telling me what’s going on?”

“I-It’s a v—hmm!—ah, that is, a voodoo doll,” Izaya stuttered, his arms coming down to wrap around his sides though he knew it would do nothing to prevent the sensation. “Shinra g-gahave it to me.”

“Gave?”

“Or rather I stole it from him—don’t!” Izaya squeaked as Shizuo scratched a finger over the doll’s hip again with a disappointed frown. The subtle tickling was insistent against the area, and Izaya found himself at a loss for what to do. No matter how he attempted to rub the spot, the feeling wouldn’t go away. Giggles, of all things, fell unbidden from lips. “S-Shizuo—”

“So, let me see if I have my story straight. You stole this from Shinra, a voodoo doll, a dangerous artifact, brought it into our home, and connected it to yourself? Why would you do that?”

“I wahahas t-testing ihit—” Izaya tried to explain, his sentence breaking off into more stuttered laughter. Of all the outcomes for the doll’s potential effects on him, this was certainly the least expected. He hadn’t anticipated Shizuo to take advantage of the artifact’s power so blatantly. Once again, the other had outwitted Izaya’s expectation.

Usually, this annoyed Izaya. However, as he fought against invisible sensations dancing merrily along his hips, the helplessness of his position beginning to set in, he found that he was almost… excited. Panic, irritation, delight… all of it mixed together into a confusing concoction inside him, and he struggled to find a way to understand just what it was he was feeling. He was finding it difficult to concentrate, with Shizuo now intentionally scratching his nails against the doll’s hips, running his touch featherlight along the other’s bikini line.

Izaya gasped, crumbling instantly to the ground as his laughter rose several octaves. “N-Nohoho, nohoho, nahahat thehehere y-yohohou—fuhuhuhuck!” His insult was lost between expletives and squeaked giggles.

Shizuo watched this display in amazement. Despite the very obvious effects it was having on Izaya, he still found it difficult to believe that it had worked. Voodoo. Genuine magic. He wasn’t surprised to have found it in the info broker’s possession—he was constantly discovering strange and unusual artifacts scattered about their apartment. Still… he couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed with this particular find.

Shizuo couldn’t help but agree that it was the perfect oppurtunity for revenge. For the past week Izaya had been taking advantage of Shizuo’s inability to defend himself against this particular method. Sneaking up behind him and squeezing his sides when he wasn’t expecting it, Izaya would quickly render the man useless on the floor before he could muster enough strength to fight back.

Now, however, the tables had been reversed. He smirked as he held the doll securely in one hand, dragging sweeping touches along his hips with his thumb, the index of his other hand setting to work scratching gently around the place where his ears and neck connected.

There was something so oddly intimate about that casual touch, the slow, gentleness of the gestures, that somehow served to make the whole situation a lot worse. Izaya felt his face warming for reasons entirely outside the tickling.

Curled up on the ground, Izaya was taken over by fits of breathless giggles, unable to continue any kind of rapport. His fingers curled around the folds of his shirt, twitching and gripping it tighter as he forced himself to somehow deal with the devastatingly light tickling. If he would only move off that one spot, for even a moment—

“Can you imagine if I possessed something like this back in our heyday?” Shizuo mused, pretending like the other wasn’t dying on the ground before him. “I would have ruined you with this. What do you think all those top dollar yakuza would think if they saw you like this?”

Izaya dearly did not want to have to think about it. The mere thought of the Awakusu-Kai, or one very specific member at that, discovering a weakness such as this sent a chill down his spine. Luckily for him, holding any thought in his brain was becoming very difficult due to his current predicament, so he didn’t have to dwell on it for too long.

It was when Shizuo’s fingers curled just below the doll’s hips however, that delicate area where torso met thighs, that Izaya began to truly get desperate. “Shizuo please, no, don’t, c’mon, not that—”

“Are you… begging?” Shizuo repeated incredulously, startled delight ringing through his words. “Is the great Izaya Orihara begging?”

Izaya’s mouth snapped shut and irritation flooded through him at the trap of his own making. There was no way to get out of this without shattering his dignity through genuine begging, yet at the same time there would be no dignity left to salvage if Shizuo pursued that spot. In the end he settled on fuming silence, neither a confirmation nor a denial.

Shizuo examined him for a moment, clearly debating the risk versus reward in his head. In the end, he shrugged, holding the doll limply in his hand and thusly removing the threat. “Alright. You win. If you can’t handle it, then I’ll stop.”

Izaya eyed him suspiciously, doubt flickering among his features. “I’m impressed Shizu-chan—that was almost believable.”

“Hey, take my word for it or don’t, but I promise I’m done.” He held the doll out as a peace offering, its limbs splayed out invitingly in his hand.

Izaya narrowed his eyes. He waited several moments for the other to do something, but Shizuo merely appeared bored, his arm growing tired from its outstretched position. Against his better judgement, Izaya slowly stood up, walking over and reaching for the doll.

“Thank you. I’m glad you’ve finally come to your senses—ahAHAHA SHIHIT!”

Izaya let out a veritable squawk of laughter as Shizuo jerked the doll back suddenly, curling his fingers into the death spot. Izaya’s legs buckled underneath him as he cackled, and he stumbled forward, falling into Shizuo. Luckily, the other managed to catch him just in time, letting go of the doll and placing it quickly on the table.

Izaya wheezed, the disorientating feeling of the sudden sensation and its abrupt removal leaving him reeling. He blinked wearily, only to find his face inches away from the other. He decided to blame the pink tinge to his cheeks on the laughter.

“Hello,” Shizuo greeted, grinning.

“You are atrocious, you know that? A despicable human being.”

“Hey, save it for tonight.” Shizuo leaned in, softly kissing him in a manner that made Izaya’s bones melt inside of him. When he finally pulled away he found Izaya glaring at him, though it wasn’t very convincing.

“You cannot simply kiss me and expect everything to go back to normal.” He stiffened when Shizuo pressed his lips to his neck in a manner that was altogether far too distracting. “This is not going to work.”

“Mm.”

“I am—” Izaya broke off, struggling to remember how words worked—“still very angry with you.”

“You talk too much.”

Izaya frowned in dismay down at the other, before eventually relenting with an exhausted sigh. He pulled Shizuo’s face up to his, kissing him properly this time. “You are truly insufferable,” Izaya murmured against his mouth.

“And you are tremendously annoying,” Shizuo agreed. It was as close as they got to saying the simple phrase, three words that would make all of this seem too real for safety. So instead they stuck to petty insults, each understanding their hidden meanings.

The doll lay discarded on the desk, but by no means forgotten. In several days, a disgruntled scientist would discover the missing doll and a long-suffering info broker would face the consequences of the phone call that would follow. But until then, the two were content to let the night go on without them as they sat curled together in the slightly spinning chair, their bodies saying what their mouth could not.

Izaya decided that maybe the night hadn’t been a total waste, after all.

#tickle fic #durarara #shizaya #tickling #shizuo heiwajima #izaya orihara #shinra kishitani #durarara!!#fanfic #fanfiction

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genaleah · 3 years

Text

ANSWERING WILDCARD QUESTIONS

For the first time in about a year maybe??? Some of these might be even older than that.

Yes, it is Korka! I definitely want her involved, she’s a wonderful character and there is a *lot* of fun paranormal stuff going on in this setting that she can help them research. Also, I’d just love for her and Nelson to become friends!

Thank you! I love him a lot, and it’s fun to picture him interacting with the other guys. They’d all make for some interesting uncle figures, but they might not be that great in terms of role models.

OHOHO. Devilish laugh. That’s a wonderful idea, and a good way to keep him occupied at some point. He’s a great character, but he’s incredibly powerful, and I want these dudes to solve their own problems whenever possible.

A good question! I don’t remember most of my dreams, but there’s usually a consistent look to the vivid ones. Lots of water, mountains, creeks, and high, winding roads. There are also a lot of buildings that are closely integrated with nature, even though I have almost never seen construction like that.

I had not, but now I have! Here’s a trailer, for anyone else that missed it:

https://youtu.be/33HXHaaagsw

I really like these new models! I’m looking forward to watching a playthrough when that’s available. Just like with Rhombus of Ruin, I don’t think I’ll be able to play this one myself.

DOUBLE FINE, I WISH TO SPEAK WITH YOU- no, I’m kidding! I think great minds think alike. But I’m really excited to learn more about that character and possibly involve them in this whole au eventually.

I’ve actually tried to avoid almost any info about Psychonauts 2 so I can go in mostly-blind, and a lot of the characters are vague to me. It’s fun to look forward to, but it’s also a little harrowing because I don’t know how to anticipate for it!

N...NO..... I NEED TO... Honestly those are old enough that it might be a good idea for me to re-make them, as well as the playing cards I made for the mega playlist cover. I think it’d be nice to remake them as vectors... that might make for a nice art stream sometime. I’ll mention publicly if I start doing that, and sharing any of these conceptual Wildcards arts when they’re done.

And if you’re just curious about what the tarot cards for the other characters are going to be, it’s this:

Eddie: Judgement, The Magician, The Emperor

Manny: Death, Justice, The World

Sam: The Chariot, The Tower, Strength

Max: The Devil, Wheel of Fortune, Joker

Although! I may actually give the Moon card to Max instead of the Devil, and replace the missing card from Nelson’s selection with the High Priestess? 🤔 I’ll decide when I get to it.

Could be! I’ve flip-flopped occasionally on if I want the split-a-cab gang to participate much in the story. I think they deserve a break, and splitting an apartment in New York seems like a good situation for the four of them.

Oh boy, that must be so disorienting for him. The Psychonauts deal with a lot of hippy-dippy weirdness in a seemingly organized way, but it seems like they’re not as paranoid about safety as a real federal organization would be. Not necessarily a good thing, considering one of their camp counselors went AWOL one day, and the head of the Psychonauts got kidnapped the next. They kinda need to get their act together.

Fun fact, in one of the earlier drafts of Chapter 3 I was actually going to make Nelson get scanned by the equivalent of a metal-detector for malevolent thoughts at the door and get really spooked by it, but I decided against it.

YEAH IT’S ON THE LIST

Honestly, a big bulk of the plot in this just regards characters having to face their mental health struggles... via facing it as literal internal demons, unstable powers, etc. It’s going to take a little while for any of Eddie’s teammates to realize how MUCH he has going on under the surface because he does a pretty good job of hiding it. “Needing to help others above ever helping themselves” is a hard issue to notice if you’re not looking for it. But it’s a guarantee that once they find out he needs help, they’ll give it; whether that’s making sure he’s not working himself too hard, or fighting off demonic cultists. Care comes in many forms.

SHE NEEDS TO REST.... POOR SYBIL (on the upside, they don’t TECHNICALLY work there, so she might be fine most of the time.)

Strong Bad isn’t a Psychonaut! He’s just a vlogger and a petty (psychic) criminal. It’s honestly not very different from canon.

Free Country, USA is a smalltown hotbed of psychic activity. Nearly everyone there has some mild capacity for supernatural powers, but nobody really notices or cares. Strong Bad just pops the tops off of cold ones and.... sometimes alters reality, a tiny bit. But mostly just in regards to media. The cartoons, comics, etc, that he invents and talks about have a tendency to suddenly voip into existence and nobody knows how. I swear, there’s actually a line of him saying something to this effect, but I can’t find it anywhere. Don’t worry about it! Nobody in town is ever going to do anything truly nefarious with their powers, so it’s not a high priority on the Psychonauts’ radar, just a weird footnote.

The only reason Homestar is an actual agent is because he seems like exactly the kind of guy to sign up for a job like that on accident and then stick with it. And he’s a talented telekinetic! None of his other friends know about his job or notice his absences.

And just for fun, here’s some weird instances of psychic overpowering that happened in the cartoon:

---

(Poor Strong Sad)

I’ve actually answered this one before! BAM Pretty sure all of it is still accurate.

Nelson: He sees floating sheets of paper containing notes, questions, etc. Anything that he wants to know more about regarding that person. The notes are subject to edits, cross-outs, ripped pages, etc.

Guybrush: He sees the item that the person is carrying that he wants most. As he gets to know people better, he sees them for their useful skills first.

Manny: His view of most living people is not very kind...

The people he’s closest to will eventually look a lot less garish. More like a flattering, camera-ready versions of themselves.

Eddie: Sickass sketch drawings that look like they belong in the margins of a composition book. The illustrations improve as he gets a better picture of where they’d fit in the internal lore of his mental world.

Sam: A lot like Nelson; Sam pictures case files, though his are a bit more in-depth.

Max: Max’s visions of people are highly personal and uncomfortable for those who witness them. He sees Nelson as a puzzle with a piece missing. Guybrush is a ripped up voodoo doll. Manny is a forgotten ofrenda. Eddie is a powder keg with a long, lit fuse. Sam is Sam, but he’s the wrong one.

I also got two questions that were pretty big subjects, or that I didn’t want to repeat, so I’m gonna cover them pretty broadly:

REGARDING [X] CHARACTER OR SERIES INCLUDED IN THE AU

Sure, I support it! I’ve gotten this question a few times in regards to things that I haven’t had time to delve into yet, or I’m not interested in, so I’m not going to include it into the AU myself. But if you want to explore an idea like that, feel free! This AU is pretty dang collaborative.

My main focus is just on the main 6 properties: Psychonauts, Puzzle Agent, Monkey Island, Grim Fandango, Brutal Legend, and Sam & Max.

But my general rule of thumb for “characters that exist somewhere within the background of this story” are any other properties owned by Telltale, Lucasarts, or Double Fine. And considering all of the licensed games that Telltale was getting into before it kicked the bucket, that includes some really weird characters, even up to the Venture Bros. I loved that series, but I’m not really interested in doing anything with them for this story! Partly for my sanity, the canon I’ve picked are already a lot of content to play with.

ASSORTED QUESTIONS ABOUT THE WILDCARD AU DISCORD

There’s no particular criteria needed to join the discord, and it’s not strictly on a need-to-know basis! Because it’s been a long while since anyone has joined, I've been hesitant about adding new people in... But I‘ve decided to try sending invitations again! Everyone who had asked about it in the past will be getting a ping by me in about a day or so, since I want to double-check if you’re still interested. If you’ve been nervous to ask you can reply to this post or message me privately.

Some things to keep in mind before asking or accepting the invite:

If you’re not a friend or a follower I recognize, I will likely double-check your tumblr along with some other current members before sending the invite.

Here’s the Rules page, so you know what to expect before you join:

Be Mindful - Respect other people's boundaries, don't do or say things that would cross the line. If your behavior makes other people feel uncomfortable or unsafe, I will remove you from the chat. In most cases I will try to resolve things with you and offer a chance to do better, but that will depend on the severity of the situation. And if you have any concerns regarding another member of the chat, you can contact me privately.

Health Boundaries - While discussions of mental health do occasionally pop up, do not rely on the chat for help. None of us are equipped to handle serious mental health concerns, and it will only cause distress for everyone. Please seek real help if it is needed! If you rely on people beyond the point that they have asked you to stop, I will remove you from the chat.

NSFW - Generally speaking, try to keep NSFW talk to a minimum. Swearing and humor is fine, but don't get too explicit please! Discussions should usually keep to a PG-13 / occasional R, but no NC-17.

Spoilers & Censorship - Please use the spoiler function to hide story spoilers, as well as discussions and graphic depictions of gore/excessive blood/body horror/severe psychological horror. Include a content warning so that people know what they could potentially be seeing when they click on the censored content. If the spoilered content is the subject of a back-and-forth discussion, please use another warning when you are switching to a different spoilered topic. (Note that these rules were added to the chat later, so be careful when using the search function or back reading.)

The canon series involved with the Wildcard AU are Psychonauts, Puzzle Agent, Monkey Island, Grim Fandango, Brutal Legend, and Sam & Max. Please be mindful of story spoilers!

Channel Organization - Also be mindful of which channel you're in and move a discussion over if need be! That way they don't get too clogged with unrelated info.

Creative Criticism - When it comes to writing, art, or character creation; try to be open to suggestions from others! Nearly all of the creative work in the chat is collaborative, so input from others is important! Creative criticism is not the same as judgement, and is not a personal attack.

Have fun! - Discussions move quickly in this chat! Don't feel bad if you ever need to step back, whether it's because of the speed or a disinterest in whatever current topic we're focusing on. If you ever want to come back, we're happy to have you and can give quick explanations if you feel out of the loop! :thumbsup:

We’re a group of approx. a half dozen to a dozen people, either posting very very quickly in a span of a few hours or barely anything for a few days. We’ve been in an activity uptick lately and there’s about a year and half of back content, too. If it’s hard to keep up on, not that interesting to read through, or you just have a hard time gelling with the group that's already there, there’s no shame in just lurking or dipping out if you need to.

We also talk a lot about Psychonauts OCs, so anticipate that.

#wildcard au #wildcard hcs

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Text

masterpost • main masterlist • taglist & faq

previously on...

Chapter 3 is finally here. Sorcerers need their shopping done, too. Beyonce/Wong platonic ship (joking)! And finally some action, more witchy stuff. Bucky whump because I have a saviour complex. Stucky cuteness moment. Some blood/gore in this chapter.

My insides clenched, seeing the yellow and blue notice taped to my door - the building manager rarely left notes, so whatever it was, it wasn't going to be good. I had managed to wind myself up into an anxious frenzy by the time I had gone inside and locked my door behind me, immediately thinking I would have to exhaust myself by turning to magic to keep a roof over my head.

For once, the news turned out to be positive: a neighbor was being evicted and turned in to the police for stealing packages. The building manager urged the tenants to report any missing items and apply for a refund when possible, apologizing for the inconvenience. I wondered what prompted this, basically unheard of in NYC, act of kindness as my altar stared at me with mocking amusement, pointing out the obvious by its mere presence.

Grinning to myself, I texted Odette - predictably, she was happy for me, happy that my protection spell had turned out strong and steady, and added a few tips of her own for my spell to stay that way. It felt like I'd grown invisible wings, those days, with all the possibilities open - and never once did I let myself entertain a thought of getting back at an enemy of the past for longer than five seconds.

Sure, it was perfectly human to consider making the cheating ex go bankrupt or make sure the college professor, that failed a couple of students each semester as a 'reality check', trips and face-plants at least once a day... I mean, who wouldn't experience a malicious sort of joy from petty revenge?

But I found my powers were best applied with a positive result in mind. My friend's cat was the first test rat- I mean, living creature I had practiced my healing spells on. The eleven year old kitty was struggling and both me and my friend loved the critter dearly - so the short, but tiring spell I performed yielded exactly the results I was expecting. Odette said something about genuine love backing up the magic, and- well, Dumbledore much?

On humans, it turned out, it wasn't nearly as simple. I didn't know what I had expected would happen after performing nothing short of a whole improv-performace type of ritual right in front of my very puzzled but hopeful friend with chronic asthma, but it wasn't the sheer exhaustion that ran bone-deep and left me bedridden for a whole day.

Odette visited my dingy apartment with her signature enormous purse full of vials she spoon-fed me and trinkets she strategically placed in and around my immediate sleeping area. "There, there," the woman patted my head as I pitifully moaned at the ear-splitting headache. "The first one is always the most challenging. After all, if it would be easy, everyone would do it."

I understood that. But at the same time, it felt unfair that no good deed went unpunished. I told Odette so, raising my voice to the best of my ability as she rummaged around my kitchen.

"Nothing in this world comes out of thin air, whatever you decide to give has to be taken from somewhere," she explained patiently. "People like us are considered hedge witches. We do solitary work and draw most of our energy from the Earth, from mother Nature. We cannot perform miracles, however, the cost of our spells are very low," I felt an immediate peak of interest at the simple yet effective explaination she gave me. "We remain mostly human. Gaia* is kind and generous to the ones who pay respect," Odette continued over the clatter of pans and pots. "There are other kinds of witches - who take from other people, who take from the dead. But taking something by force always leaves scars and taking something from the dead means bringing a piece of them back to places it should not be."

I pondered the words as Odette brought the kettle to a boil, the whistling shriek piercing through my skull like a sharp projectile. "What about Voodoo practitioners?" I couldn't hold back my curiosity.

Odette cleared her throat. "What is left of them is mostly not human. Their gifts are great but the costs are greater. They can live far, far longer than the average witch but their souls will know no peace, just like the souls of the dead they anchor to themselves over time," Odette entered the room with a bowl of tangy, creamy liquid that smelled like pumpkin soup. "We do not bestow any judgement upon our brothers and sisters but it is our duty to inform the young." She cast a pointed glance towards me, passing me the soup and a wooden spoon I didn't know I had. "This should help you recover. Take tomorrow off if needs be."

She left shortly afterwards and I hadn't much strength than to use the bathroom, wash the rune-engraved spoon and curl up in my bed, only waking up when the meager light shone over my face from the window. Sleepy and fog-tinted, the early morning NYC was damp and windy as I stuck my head out of the window to soak my sleep-heated head in the cool air.

As uneventful as the day at the café was, I still wasn't up to 100% energy-wise, but the long walk from Jeremy's to Odette's was pleasantly invigorating. I didn't find the cold autumn moisture displeasing; the small raindrops kept me awake and alert. Odette nodded in muted pleasure as I clocked in and returned the special spoon back to her. The runes on it were interesting; I had taken a picture of them for research purposes, fully intending to craft myself something similar.

"Odette has taken on an apprentice," Wong's voice had me take in several deep breaths in preparation for the inevitable fuck-fest on my patience. "She has been avoiding me. And the girl is painfully slow."

I didn't hear the answer of Wong's companion over the rustling of the boxes I was hastily shoving in their places before the Asian man's temper grew foul. More foul. Ugh. The sharp ding of the bell had me yelling a, "Just a second please, I'll be right with you," while trying to keep my tone polite.

Wong's sour face and a list of items required greeted me as I flew out of the backrooms, noticing the locked doors of Odette's office on my way out. Wong's companion stood at the far end of the store - his robes quite different from the ones I'd seen people of their kind wear, his lithe, tall figure seeming strangely familiar. I squinted my eyes at his back. "Is this all you need?" I waved the list around, increasing the volume of my voice.

The tall man turned around and I could only gape. He, in turn, also froze, the stern, unfriendly expression losing heat and giving way to perplexed wonder. "I had placed an order, for sorcerer Strange," Tony's boyfriend eyed me somewhat sheepishly under Wong's concerned gaze.

I nodded, eyeing Wong in turn, letting satisfaction nestle a warm ball in my chest. Stephen's look of displeasure had turned onto his... Colleague. By the time I finished retrieving Strange's order and packing up the items on Wong's list, the Asian man had left, leaving Stephen to sheepishly pretend to examine the books on the furthest shelf. I waved the paper bags as he took long strides towards me, his fancy, large necklace glimmering under the lights.

"So, how long have you been working here?" Sorcerer Strange asked after I told him the total.

The cash register beeped loudly, coins clattering on the desk as I counted out his change. "Some time now," I shrugged noncommittally. I felt his magnetic eyes gloss over my adornments, the star necklace, the various rings; I could practically feel him coming to his own conclusions. "Long enough for your colleague to get an attitude with me," I had to make sure he knew I would be taking no bullshit from him - or anyone else, for that matter. Odette's opinion on his kind was firm and I was heavily inclined to agree.

"Hmm, I see," Strange was equally as keen on hiding his curiosity. It was a funny thing, really, that we, being adults that we were, treated this encounter like some sort of a dirty secret. "Don't take it personally. Wong is like that with everyone," The man briefly scratched his beard with a gloved hand before pocketing his change and picking up the bags. "Except Beyoncè, maybe," the wink he threw me was positively mischievous as it caught me off-guard, giving him a fox-like appearance.

I sighed as the door shut behind him. Pretty white boys - the ultimate human disasters.

I had no time to dwell on them, however, as something - or someone, hit downtown with all the malicious intentions to wreak havoc on the innocent civilians calmly going about their day. Mutants and people who knew Odette came in hordes, scrapes and bruises and strange wounds that required imminent healing.

My boss was no rookie, she dutifully accepted each and every single soul, looking worse for wear with each minute. Not being able to withstand seeing her drain herself, I simply took over the simplest tasks - and she said nothing, just gave me a nod, instructed to use whatever I needed and write it down somewhere along with the name of the person who required the healing.

As the battle raged, the crowds thinned but the ones who managed to come to Odette's spouted more serious wounds, obviously a result of them fighting back. Mutants covered head to toe with coats and hats and robes, for me to swallow my shock when they undressed - horns, tails and weird skin textures were on the far end of the normal. I dutifully extracted small pieces of information from each and every person I treated.

Yes, the Avengers were winning. No, there aren't many people hurt, most of the damage is cosmetic. Yes, the villain of the week is as stupid as usual. It was like a mantra. Odette poked her head into the spare room every now and then, her eagle eyes briefly scanning over me to make sure I wasn't exterting myself.

As I applied the healing salve to a tiny, pink-skinned woman, bandaging up her hands, my boss entered and closed the door behind her, setting down on the creaky chair with a loud thud. "Just got the news, the Avengers apprehended the terrorist," she sighed long and slow. "We've done all we could, the next few days I'll be handling house calls so you'll be here on your own. I'll probably see you in a few days, don't hesitate to give me a call if something comes up," Odette seemed to be barely standing up, yet when she tore off a few pieces of her jewelry and chucked them into a big tin can under the sink, the glossy sheen in her eyes melted away.

"Okay," I mumbled under the watchful eyes of the mutant woman. "Will there be more people coming in today?"

"No," the woman in front of me snorted. "SHIELD is prowling the streets. They are not fond of us, they always say we intervene unnecessarily even though we willingly do their dirty work so our children could be safe," the bitter, harsh tone took me off-guard.

I had to admit, there was reason behind her words. "Will you be able to get home safely? I have a puffy coat and a hat you can borrow." Figuring an expensive taxi ride would be a better alternative to something terrible happening to the woman, I offered her my winter clothes.

She smiled at me, razor blade teeth and large, red eyes the kindest I'd ever seen on a person. In the end, she took the clothes, promising to bring them back in a few days and Odette gave me a parka that was too small for her frame - despite it smelling like someone's grandma's attic, I found it to be quite lovely vintage. The puffy knitted scarf she added felt like warmth and safety - she had to have knitted it herself, for I knew, handmade items carried a significant amount of energy in them.

The shop was eerily quiet as I cleaned and scrubbed the stained, dirty floors and disposed of the bloody clothes and bandages in the tiny, odd fireplace in Odette's office - that was a thing most peculiar, it burned everything I put in it, but had no chimney, no place for the smoke to exit. Magic.

Something banged loudly against the entrance door. I let out a startled shriek, broomstick falling out of my hand and adding to the sudden cacophony of noise as the figure behind the stained glass slowly slid down the door, a deep, male voice groaning something incomprehensible loud enough for me to hear.

Grabbing a large serrated knife we used for mincing the bones of small animals, I made quiet steps towards the door, seeing a large, obviously humanoid figure helplessly lean on the door. The man's arm glinted chrome black and gunmetal grey in the low light. "Sargent Barnes? Bucky?" I whisper-shouted, carefully plying open the door.

He lifted his head, blood dripping down from it, his face looked like someone went to town on it with a meat mullet, his eyes were unfocused and couldn't keep a straight line. His flesh arm leaned heavily on the door frame, the prosthetic hanging limply, dragging his whole body to its side. It must've weigh a ton.

"Я должен найти капитана Роджерса," he whispered.

I didn't understand Russian at all but I could make out the name of his boyfriend. Which made sense. Bucky looked severely concussed - I idly wondered what exactly they had been fighting, what could have given a freaking super-soldier such a brain-leaking injury. "Sargent Barnes, follow me," I put on my big girl shoes and used my momma bear voice, towing the man behind me.

He, too, weighed a ton, as I stumbled, helping him into the chair in the spare room that became my healing station for today. The longer I looked at Bucky, the less lucid he grew, eyes falling shut as he murmured something in jagged Russian, slurring his words.

There was no time to think about the consequences of exposure of my witchcraft; mortar and pestle, herbs and salves flying everywhere, I assembled a healing spell and memorized the according ritual in what felt like record time. He was bleeding all over the chair, fresh crimson blood pouring out of his nose and mouth and it was all I could see.

I hadn't known true terror until the blood that poured out turned black. Whatever it was in him, it was poisonous - my protection charms grew hot, scalding as they left marks on my skin; powering through the pain and unable to turn my eyes off the convulsing Barnes, I finished the chant just as the flow of vile, tar-like liquid suddenly ceased. It pooled around his feet, dripped down the armrests and matted his long hair. It reeked, too, of copper and putrid meat.

Bucky had passed out somewhere mid-spell, the slow, steady breathing bringing me my own sense of calm. To say that I was drained would be an understatement - my vision swam and my world spun on it's axis as I unlocked Odette's office to messily rummage through a cabinet for the emergency tonic I knew she kept there. I chugged the vial, an avalanche of almost anxious, jittery energy hit me like a freight train - exactly what I needed.

I bought myself a couple hours of time. Cleaning up the sludge around Bucky's feet and removing the outer parts of his gear was easy as he remained as relaxed as a cooked spaghetti noodle. The amount of weapons he had on him was impressive, but those weren't what I was looking for - his phone. It was dead, so I plugged it in, waiting for the 5% to show and bringing it to his fingertips, hoping he used the print recognition instead of the password option... And I lucked out.

"Hello, this is Star, I found a Bucky. Tell Dr. Strange to come get him, he knows where I am." I texted the "Stevie ❤️" contact, my inner fangirl self squealing at the dorky name of his boyfriend's contact in Bucky's phone. Shortly afterwards, I went ahead and snapped a picture of myself next to sleeping Bucky, figuring out some actual proof wouldn't do any harm in this bizarre situation.

The answer didn't let me wait long. "10 minutes" came the first text, and shortly afterwards - "Is Bucky okay??????". I had to snort at the amount of question marks before honestly replying "He will be ☺️" and putting the phone back in Bucky's pocket. I cleaned up and attempted to lift Bucky up, succeeding in waking him up into a half-lucid state, probably courtesy of decades of training and whatnot, to at least drag him to the front of the store. I wasn't particularly comfortable with strangers seeing the backrooms.

Bucky leaned with his back against the counter, ass flat on the floor and a towel with a cold compress pressed to his head when the doors all but flew open, revealing Captain Rogers, still in uniform and Stephen Strange, arguing with his boyfriend, both still suited up and bloody and grimy.

"Uhh," I blinked owlishly, causing the men to stop bickering and stare first at me, then at Bucky. "I think he hit his head," I offered weakly, backing up slightly at the amount of burning eyes staring at me.

"Shortcake, that you?" Tony's eyebrows rose as he surveyed the bodega, the items on the shelves, the black and red blood stains on my previously pristine, yellow shirt.

"Now is not the time, Tony. Go with Rogers, make sure the medical is prepared for Barnes and disable his arm," Strange barked out authoritatively, shooting me a puzzled but compassionate look. "The portal is open. I'll talk to Star, find out what happened." He advanced towards me as Captain picked up Bucky bridal-style as tenderly as he could while making sure the compress stayed on.

"Keep that tone fo the bedroom," Tony's voice was more than displeased as he shot me and Strange a hurt look, but followed Steve into the golden circle right outside the door before it sparked shut.

"Now, now, what happened here?" The sorcerer's voice lowered into a soothing drawl as I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. My shoulders sagged, fingers twitching with anxious energy. The man extended a gloved hand, briefly squeezing my shoulder. "It's alright, take your time."

Damn, did I look that bad?

Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites

#bun writes #practical alchemy #tony stark x reader x stephen strange #tony stark x reader #Stephen Strange x reader

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

“Helpless” *Part 3*

Ok, I got the 2nd dose of the CoVid Vaccine yesterday and it’s kicking my ASS, so I’m gonna blame the writing on that. I wasn’t even gonna do a chapter tonight but I can’t let my babies down!!!!

Please forgive me, I didn’t plan this story out as well. I don’t know how long it’s gonna go, I’m flailing, coming apart at the seams.

ANYWAY, ENJOY! 😂

Also for the record the micro expression thing is a real thing, there was a whole show about it! #LieToMe

This story is just an excuse to exploit my fascination with it. 😅 #jk

Masterlist

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

My Lovelies:

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@chasingeverybreakingwave

After greeting your new guests, you took their drink orders and handed them two menus, explaining the specials. You glanced over to see Rafael furiously scribbling notes down on his legal pad; SUPER.

“....How’s the Cesar salad here, dear?” the older woman of the couple asked.

“It’s great-- really--” you were explaining when you caught Rafael’s eye when he glanced up to look at you. He smiled, and you thought your knees would give out.

“Amazing,” you sighed in a dreamy wisp.

“Really? That good, huh?” The woman glanced over to where you had been looking. Rafael quickly looked elsewhere, then sipped his scotch and continued writing.

“Well he looks yummy too,” She winked, as her husband looked up from his menu with a wary eye.

“I’ll be back with your drinks,” you nodded and quickly excused yourself to make their drinks. After quickly mixing and serving them, you returned to Rafael who was now grinning from ear to ear.

“Are you going to actually order, or…?” You asked, leaning your elbows on the bar across from him.

“In a minute, sure. FIRST, you answer some questions, camarera--” You gave him a face. “It means waitress,”

“Right...cute,” you rolled your eyes, but inside you were melting. Anything spanish coming out of that man’s mouth sounded like straight porn.

“But, I’m not just going to sit here and let you interrogate me, counselor,” you smirked. “Tit for tat-- you ask me one, I’ll ask you one. And remember, I’ll know if you’re lying,” you wagged your eyebrows at him.

“Well that’s just unfair, don’t you think? You could tell me anything and I’d believe you,” he argued.

“Oh really? Because I look that innocent?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Because you’re that pretty,” he winked, causing your cheeks to flush hot. Damn, he was good.

“Alright alright, down boy,” you tried playing it off like you weren’t mentally squealing like a 12 year old. “First question?”

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

“Excuse you? How old do you think I am?!” You didn’t know whether to be insulted or flattered. You had always been told you looked young for your age, but you didn’t want him thinking you were barely jailbait or something. WAIT, was that him making sure you weren’t?

“Why don’t you ask me my age, counselor? Wouldn’t that be easier?”

“Asking a woman’s age is the equivalent of asking to get punched in the nuts,” he chuckled.

“True. Well I’m older than 21 but younger than 40,” you smirked.

“So...22 then?” He winked.

“Whatever you want, papi,” you winked back, causing his eyes to glisten with arousal.

“But to answer your actual question, I want to work in law someday,” you added, turning his amorous eyes to curious ones.

“Really? Because of me?”

“Oh my GOD, could you be any more narcissistic?” you scoffed.

“I could be, most definitely yes,” he nodded.

“NO, believe it or not my world doesn’t revolve around you; in fact until yesterday you were just ‘tie guy’,”

“Tie guy?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Your ties. They are very...intricate,” you nodded to the tie he was currently wearing. To your surprise, he nervously adjusted it and looked down, as if he was embarrassed by his love for flamboyant ties.

“Not in a bad way, I like them a lot. Especially when they match your suspenders,” as soon as the words left your mouth, you heard the “fatal attraction” in them.

“Okay see how is this fair, you clearly know much more about me than I know about you,” You fanned yourself, your skin was going to be permanently burned red from this entire conversation.

“Yes but to be fair you just keep revealing that information yourself, and it’s really only facts about myself, just with a stalker’s viewpoint,” he quickly recovered from his own insecurities once again, reveling in your skill of self destruction.

“ANYWAY-- No, not because of you. I’ve just been fascinated with the micro expression thing since I was a teenager, and I think if it hasn't been already introduced as tactics for law enforcement, it definitely should be. Having human lie detectors on hand would be very beneficial, don’t you think?”

“You do have a point,” he nodded. “If it was a real thing,” he rolled his eyes.

“It IS! Alright you know what-- new game,” You slammed the bar with your hands defensively..

“You tell me facts about yourself and I’ll tell you if you’re lying,”

“Whoa whoa whoa, I never agreed to that,” Rafael shook his head.

“Well you can agree now or I can keep waiting on other people, counselor,”

“...Alright, fine. But it goes both ways,”

“Oh you think you can tell when I’m lying?” You dared him.

“If I really try, sure. I am a lawyer,”

“Alright....fine.”

“So what are the terms of this game?”

“Hmmmm…..if I win, you have to mention this science--”

“Voodoo”

“SCIENCE, to your higher ups. Or someone who could do something with it,” you held out your hand.

“Alright...fine. And when I win, I eat free here for a week.” he smirked.

“WHAT? No no no, that shit will come out of my pocket, jackass,” You winced after the insult came out, you didn’t know what it was about him that caused such flippancy.

“...You know I’ve never been in a conversation with someone insulting me this much,” he chuckled.

“....Maybe not to your face,” You gave him a tongue-in-cheek smile.

“Touché…” he chuckled, twirling his pen between his fingers.

“Alright fine, if I win, you have dinner with me next week. Anywhere but here,” he grinned, amused at the shell shocked look on your face. You quickly shook it off and tried to play it cool.

“....You know I’ve never been in a conversation with a guy who worked this hard just to ask me out,”

“Oh please, I could’ve asked you to follow me home last night and you would’ve done it,” he smirked, causing you to hit him with feigned protest.

“But what fun would that be?” he asked coyly, biting his lip.

“ORDER UP!” You heard the kitchen call your order.

“Shit...I’ll be right back,” You took Rafael’s glass and filled it back up, sliding it back to him.

“Trying to get me drunk?” He gave you a look.

“More like trying for a bigger tip,” you giggled, going back for the food.

---

You grabbed your other guests dinner and refilled their drinks, making sure they were taken care of for a while before returning to Rafael to start your new game.

“Alright….so first question: Any brothers or sisters?” you started before he could think of a question.

“One brother two sisters,” he replied with a straight face.

“NOPE. Lie. Straight out of the gate, really, counselor?!”

“Oh please, how could you know that,” he rolled his eyes.

“Please, with that ego, you’re definitely an only child.” You both laughed, he nodded.

“Alright, same question,”

“8 brothers, 7 sisters,”

“Oh now THAT’S a load of bullshit! In New York City? No way,”

“Well, technically. I was raised in a group home-- orphan,”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he went for your hand, but you shook it off.

“Not a big deal, moving on,”

“Hey--” he took your hand this time. “For what it’s worth, having parents isn’t exactly great either,”

Hint of a sad tone, a micro anger expression at the word ‘parents’.

“...Mom or dad?”

“What?”

Eye twitch at the mention of “dad”.

“What did your dad do?”

“Wha-- what is happening? What are you doing?” his eyes darted back and forth between yours trying to figure you out.

“I told you, science,”

“Well STOP, whatever it is!” he dropped your hand and leaned back defensively.

Wow, something really must have gone down with his dad.

“Okay...sorry, I’m sorry. Sometimes it’s hard to turn off,” you apologized, he relaxed back in his stool. The awkward silence now made you want to run right out of the restaurant.

“We don’t have to play anymore, I’ll tell you whatever you want,”

“No no, it’s my fault. I thought you were full of shit until that just happened,” he muttered with half a laugh.

“Oh, yeah then totally your fault,” you tried to laugh it off, he gave you a small smile. He was clearly still shaken up by the mention of his father, or the fact that you knew something about it out of thin air.

“Seriously, we can--”

“What about my dad?” he interrupted you.

“What?”

“ What do you know about my dad?” he asked, a serious expression on his face.

“Wha--- I’m not actually a psychic, Rafael. I just noticed your eye twitch when I mentioned the word dad, indicating some stress associated with it. SCIENCE, not magic,” you made “magic” motions with your fingers.

“I mean for all I know you could just hate your daddy because he didn’t buy you a yacht when you were a kid,” you joked; a glance of shame.

“...But you didn’t grow up with money, did you?” You couldn’t help yourself.

“....Seriously, I’ll leave,” he dropped his pen.

“Sorry. SORRY. Okay fine fine um-- I grew up in Jersey, in a tiny house in a room shared by five girls, it was like living in a closet. My foster parents only wanted the paychecks for each kid, so we basically raised each other. I made friends with Arianna who was also in the system when I got to high school, and as soon as we turned 18 we took off for the city, and we’ve been living out of our car for years,” you hoped your self deprecating life story negated whatever shit went down with his dad.

“....How much of that is true?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Okay so we live in a studio apartment, but we did live out of our car for a year,”

“....I grew up in the barrio,” he finally spoke after a long pause.

“I assume that’s like the Mexican ghetto?”

“CUBAN,” he was clearly offended.

“Right. Sorry,” you bit your lip, knowing there was no way you’d be able to dig out the stiletto wedged in your mouth.

“I love my mom, she did the best she could. And my abuela is the sweetest woman in the world. But my dad…” he rolled his eyes, his knuckles slightly curled at the mention of his father.

“....He’s dead now, so it’s irrelevant,” he shrugged uncomfortably.

“Right. Yeah no, sure,” this time you placed a hand over his.

“Miss, can we get a dessert menu please?” You heard the woman from the other end of the bar calling for you.

“I um-- I gotta--” you motioned between the couple and the back.

“Right-- hey um, do you think I could get my usual?” He asked softly, his cocky demeanor diminished.

“Y-Yeah! Of course, yeah I’ll be right back,” you smiled awkwardly at him and bolted to the kitchen.

For fuck’s sake, could you be any more awkward? This is why you didn’t have friends; people don’t want their lives being read on their faces.

It’s fine, you’re fine. You’ll just fix it when you come back….

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction

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ragingpancake · 3 years

Text

Lieutenant Colonel Idiot and the Kastat Root

A/N: I randomly came across a comment the other day while looking for H/C John fics where someone mentioned they wanted to see John having to have some sort of surgery off-world and this monstrosity happened. Unbetaed so all errors are mine, sorry about it!

Part 2 will be posted soon!

It starts with a stomachache and a fever. Okay no, scratch that. It started three days ago with a stomachache and a fever that he so stupidly decided to keep quiet about. He’d known that there was an upcoming mission on the books, knew that his team was scheduled to go off-world and knew that anything so much as a hangnail would ground him. So he’d just… you know, not mentioned it to anyone. Boy, had that been a mistake. So, it started three days ago with a stomachache and a the slightest of fevers that had just not gone away, annoying and ever present, but not so bad enough that it gave him cause for concern. Even earlier that morning as they loaded up into the Jumper, he’d not given it much thought, figuring that they’d just get through this mission and then he’d go talk to Carson if it hadn’t eased up. That had been his second mistake. Which is how he’s ended up here, sandwiched in between Ronon and Teyla at the feasting table with the good people of M3-X982 while Rodney waxes poetic about the almost-meatloaf they’d been served, all while trying to ignore just how hot he’d gotten, along with the stabbing pain he was experiencing less intermittently and more frequently as the night went by. He thinks he’s doing a fine job of hiding it, really, when Teyla leans over, a gentle hand resting on his shoulder. “Are you alright, Colonel?” Busted.

He means to give her a lazy, lopsided smile, to brush off her concern but what happens instead is that another stabbing pain shoots through his middle and all he can do is gasp at the force of it, loud enough that even Rodney actually shuts up for once. Three things happen in rapid succession: Ronon, assuming the worst, rises quick enough to knock the chair he’s been occupying backwards, while pulling out the blaster and aiming it at their hosts while Teyla speaks quickly, trying to diffuse the situation, ever the diplomat. And John… well, he tries to tell Ronon to knock it off, that the Plesians hadn’t poisoned him, but all he manages is a pained whimper before his entire world seemingly shifts on its axis and sends him tumbling off of his chair and to the ground, keening like a wounded animal. -- He doesn’t realize at first that he’s curled up on his side, drenched in his own sweat and covered in vomit and oh wow, when did he even throw up? “Colonel Sheppard,” Teyla says, her voice calm and soothing, and when he glances up at her, he can see Rodney over her shoulder, completely scandalized at the mess. It might be funny, except you know, John’s having a real hard time focusing on anything other than the pain. “John,” Teyla says again, more firm this time, and right, okay, focusing. He can do this. He totally can. “Doctor Frenlen would like to examine you but for this to happen, we need to get you back to the quarters the Plesians have so graciously provided. Can you stand?” “Are you crazy?” Rodney snaps and he might be even more pale than John is. “Of course he can’t stand, if he could stand, he wouldn’t be laying in a puddle of his own puke, now would he?” Teyla, the beautiful soul that she is, doesn’t even dignify Rodney’s snappish response with so much as a glance, instead looking up to Ronon with a nod. “Sorry Sheppard,” he mutters before he’s crouching down and lifting John into his arms. And John, stoic though he usually is… Well. He doesn’t really remember that part but later, Ronon will tell him about how he screamed and promptly passed out. Great. ----

See, this a prime example as to why Rodney McKay actually hatesthe Pegasus Galaxy. Atlantis, not so much, though there have been times that he’s found himself very cross with her too, but usually, she doesn’t try to kill them.

Well, perhaps that wasn’t entirely accurate, what with the (almost) ascension thing. And the virus meant to eradicate anyone not possessing the ATA gene… And the-- Okay, you know what? May she has tried to kill them but that’s not the point right now. The point is, they’re stuck on another god forsaken planet with absolutely no access to the gate thanks to the literal acid rainthat’s pouring down outside, something that the Plesians assure them will pass come morning because it does this every damn night here and why on Earth hadn’t the ancient database warned them of this?

Maybe he needs to take Atlantis off the pedestal he’s placed her on and add her to the list of things he hates about Pegasus after all. Okay, he’ll take that back. Maybe. Probably once Sheppard’s done with his poorly timed medical emergency, which brings him back to the present, crowded in a tiny room with a man old enough to be his grandfather “examining” the aforementioned Colonel. Rodney has never wished Carson was part of their gate team as much as he does in this moment, because for all the ways that medical “science” was actual voodoo, at least Carson seemed to be the most intelligent shaman they’ve come across to date. Present company included. The “Doctor” is hovering over John, poking and prodding, each touch eliciting quiet moans and whimpers from the barely conscious Sheppard, which worries Rodney enough as is. John usually prefers to suffer in manly silence and the fact that’s unable to remain stupidly stoic in this particular instance means that something must be really, really wrong. And that’s when Frenlen’s hand barely ghosts over John’s right side and the scream that Sheppard releases is one that raises the hairs on the back of his neck. “Please,” John pants as Teyla takes his hand, offering him as much comfort as she possibly can while Ronon stands at John’s head, fingering his blaster with an almost murderous look directed at Frenlen. “Please don’t do that again,” and another pained moan escapes him. Rodney, for his part, is taken back to the week after his seventeenth birthday when he was hospitalized with acute appendicitis and oh no. Oh, no, no, no. “What is it, Doctor McKay?” Teyla asks and he doesn’t realize that he’s moved from the spot that he’s previously been rooted to. He ignores her, glaring down at Sheppard. “How long?” He asks through almost clenched teeth. “What are you—“ Ronon tries, but Rodney cuts him off. “How long, Sheppard?” And Rodney might smack him if not for the fact that his fri—the Colonel didn’t look quite so pathetic, black hair matted to his forehead with fever, face pale from the pain. He still thinks about it when John answers, “coupla’ days.” “He needs the kastat root,” Frenlen interjects and Rodney has never hated medicine as much as he does in this moment. “No,” he snaps. “He needs an appendectomy.” Frenlen blinks at him, face blank and oh great. Of course. Of course he has no idea what Rodney’s talking about because that’s absolutely their luck. “We need to get back to the gate,” Rodney says and Frenlen shakes his head. “You can’t. The rain will not cease until morning,” which was still several hours away by their estimation and what if Sheppard doesn’t have that long? If his stupid appendix has already ruptured, there’s a possibility that infection is already seeping into abdominal cavity, and with Lieutenant Colonel Idiot having sat on this for “a coupla’ days” (God, Rodney wants to punch him), there’s an extremely good chance that that’s exactly what’s taking place. If not, Rodney would bet that they don’t have much longer until it does. “Rodney,” Teyla says, pulling Rodney from his thoughts. “What do we need to do?” We? “He needs his appendix removed!” Rodney says and if he sounds a little distressed by that little fact, he thinks he’s probably a little entitled. “We need Carson, we have to—.” “Rodney, I need you to focus,” Teyla says again. “John needs you to focus.” He can tell she’s just as worried as he is, can see it in her eyes but damn if she doesn’t hide it well. “We cannot get to the Stargate until morning. Can this wait until then?” “No! No, this definitely cannot wait until morning! He needs surgery, and, and, and—” “Then tell us what you need us to do so that we might begin.” What? What? “What do you--.” “Doctor Frenlen is uncertain of this ailment, but it seems that you are. As you said, we need to move quickly and--.” “I don’t… I don’t know if I’m exactly okay with this,” Sheppard manages and as Teyla’s hand moves to his overly warm forehead, Rodney feels a little insulted by that.

“What do you mean, you’re not okay with this!” He says, despite the fact that he’snot okay with this. Now, it’s just a matter of pride, honestly. “I mean you’re a scientist, Rodney. Not a… fuck. Not a doctor.” “John,” Teyla says gently and when the Colonel glances up to meet her eyes, her face softens just a bit. “We may not have a choice. You are very sick, according to Doctor McKay, and we have no access to the Stargate for several more hours. This is our only option.” “Are we really doing this?” Ronon asks, and Rodney and Teyla respond at the same time. “No!” “Yes!” But Rodney can’t do this. He’s no longer offended because he knows John’s right. He’s not a medical doctor, he has no idea what he’s doing and, and, and. “I’ll do it then,” Ronon growls. “Oh, great idea!” Rodney snaps again because that’s exactly what Sheppard needs; Chewbacca poking around in his guts, more than likely causing more damage. “The kastat root,” Doctor Frenlen supplies unhelpfully and Rodney wonders if the entire galaxy has gone mad in this moment. “Shut up!” And the doctor steps back, mouth snapped closed, and Rodney’s just about to tell them all that they have no choice but to wait, when John pitches over the side of bed, vomiting violently, and when an actual sobescapes him, Rodney realizes that he is so, so screwed. “I need… I need something to knock him out,” he says in a voice that doesn’t sound quite like his own. “The kas—” “If you say kastat root one more time--…” “Rodney!” Teyla admonishes and excuse him if he’s a little stressed right now. He’s allowed to be, considering he’s about to cut someone open. “The kastat root,” Doctor Frenlen says, “has several medicinal properties. We use it on Plesia to numb the pain from certain injuries.” Oh. Well. How was Rodney supposed to know that? “It’ll knock him out, right?” There’s a look of confusion on the doctor’s face, and when they get back to Atlantis, Rodney is so deleting this gate address from the database. NEVER AGAIN. “What Doctor McKay is asking,” Teyla interjects, “is if your kastat root will render the Colonel unconscious.” “Oh no,” Frenlen responds. “Not at all. But it should help with the pain.” Sheppard must sense just how entirely screwed he is but he seems resigned to his fate. “Do it,” he manages. “I don’t think you understand just what you’re asking me to do!” And if Rodney is shrieking just a little, they’ll just have to deal with it. “I can’t just—” “Rodney,” John says again, voice catching in his throat. “I trust you.” “The root, Doctor Frenlen,” Teyla says urgently and the doctor moves to dig through his bag, producing the smallest vial of anything Rodney has ever seen. Before he can protest any further, Teyla pops the cork and with one gentle hand cupping John’s chin, she urges him to open his mouth to drink. He does, and once she’s satisfied, she glances up at Ronon. “Hold him down,” she says quietly. “ I need--. I need a knife,” Rodney manages in a voice that does not sound like his own, and of course Frenlen is no further help but there’s Ronon, pulling a dagger from his boot and Rodney blanches. This is so not sanitary. He uses the procured dagger to slice away John’s shirt and Rodney can see the slight distension of his stomach. He can only pray that it hasn’t yet ruptured because he has nothing to clean the infection and between that and using a dagger from Ronon’s boot, Rodney is certain that John will not survive that. But as certain as he is of that, he’s also certain that if they do nothing, there’s still a good chance that John won’t survive and, and, and--. “You’re gonna… you’re gonna have to hold him extremely well,” Rodney says to Ronon, eyes wild, face coated in a sheen of sweat and when did it get so hot in here? “If he moves even the slightest—” “I’ve got him,” Ronon assures him and Teyla does too, having moved down to Colonel’s legs to hold them in place so that he would not kick. Rodney chances a glance down at John’s face and the other man gives him a barely there

nod before he swallows hard as Rodney brings the knife down, pressing it against him… --- The sound of John’s screams will haunt Rodney for the rest of his life. He’s under no delusions about that. He’d once thought that nothing would ever compare to watching John be fed on by Koyla’s wraith, but hearing those screams, knowing he’d been the one to cause it… The acid rain has stopped.

Teyla had left some time ago to run to the gate. Frenlen had finally proved more useful when he’d produced more of those little vials of kastat root. Rodney had taken them moment he’d dropped the dagger, John’s thankfully in tact appendix on the floor at his feet, and forced them down the Colonel’s throat. He figured if the asshole overdosed from some off-world root, then that was on him because they should’ve never asked Rodney--… He should have never… They shouldn’t… He doesn’t get a chance to complete another thought before the door to the room opens and in spills Carson with a skeleton med crew, ushering Rodney out of the way. And honestly, Rodney’s doing okay, he’s holding it together until someone steps on the appendix and all of a sudden all bets are off. He gags, but before he has a chance to upend all the contents of his stomach, Ronon is hauling him off, barely managing to get him outside before Rodney loses it. The noises that escape him as he pukes up everything he’s eaten for what feels like the last three weeks should be embarrassing. The entire situation shouldbe embarrassing but Rodney doesn’t care. There’s vomit and snot and tears (oh, where did they come from?) when he finally gags one last time, spitting out a mouth full of bile, and he didn’t even realize he was no longer alone until he feels a heavy hand drop onto his shoulder. “You did good,” Ronon says gruffly, like maybe Rodney’s not the only one affected by what they did. After all, Ronon was the one who’d been helping to hold him down once Rodney had started cutting, even as John screamed and begged for them to stop. Rodney says nothing until the medical team comes out, carrying John on a gurney will Teyla following close behind. She pauses, briefly, and reaches for Rodney’s hand, squeezing ever so gently, but Rodney waits until she’s far enough away before he glances up at Ronon. “We are never coming back to the this backwards fucking…” He doesn’t even have to finish before Ronon is nodding and squeezing his shoulder. “Come on,” the Satedan says. “Let’s go home.” -- By the time they make it back to Atlantis, it seems that the entire base is waiting for them. Rodney doesn’t even get an opportunity to say anything to Carson or the still unconscious Sheppard before he’s being pulled away by Elizabeth for a SITREP and she barely gets out the standard Weir what the hell happened before Rodney is puking again. Great.

Part 2

#fandom: sga #stargate atlantis #sga #sga fic #hurt!john sheppard #john sheppard whump #hurt/comfort #john sheppard #rodney mckay #teyla emmagan #ronon dex #teamfic

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chaseatinydream · 3 years

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pirate king (84) || atz

The blade comes down.

The second you feel it pierce, you squeeze your eyes shut tightly, unable to see with your own eyes the gentle expression your captain wears as you drive the knife into his neck. Your eyes brun, a silent scream trapped in your throat as your hands tremble around the knife.

You couldn’t stop it. Your foolish, kindhearted, loving captain really did decide to die in order to save you. You couldn’t overpower the control the sea spirit had over you, and now your captain is-

“Chin Hae.”

Your eyes fly open in shock.

Hongjoong is still lying on the ground, propped up against the wall, breaths escaping him in shallow pants. But instead of his neck, you realise that your knife has pierced the bookshelf next to his head, the blade sinking hilt deep into the pages of a book. Blood streams down from a shallow cut at the side of his neck, but his eyes still burn with the same fire as ever.

“You said you were going to die for her?” The sea spirit’s words that leave your mouth carry a hint of surprise, and your own shock is reflected in them. But Hongjoong merely ignores her, one hand reaching up to grip your wrist.

His hand is painfully gentle, and his gaze doesn’t waver from yours.

“I never said that.” Hongjoong’s words come out completely steady and resolute. His fingers tighten around your wrist. “If Chin Hae really wanted me to die for her, I would have done it in a heartbeat without any hesitation. But she doesn’t want me to.”

He lifts his other hand to touch your face, fingertips brushing under your eyes, and it’s only then that you realise hot tears are streaming down your cheeks. Hongjoong’s eyes soften at the sight of it. “I made you cry again.”

“You foolish mortal.” The sea spirit speaks through your mouth, and Hongjoong’s gaze instantly hardens once more. “I was going to give you a painless death, but it seems as though you’ve refused my mercy. Now, I can promise you that I will not be as kind as Eorthe is towards humans.”

Much to your horror, your hand begins moving of its own accord again, and you raise the blade into the air once more. This time, however, Hongjoong grips your wrist tight, unrelenting even when bruises burn into your skin. Yanking you towards him, your foreheads collide almost painfully, and when you look up, his single green eye burns too close into yours.

“Chin Hae, listen to me.” Hongjoong murmurs softly, speaking over the sound of the sea goddess screaming in your mind. “This is something only you can do - the sea spirit chose to possess your body. I won’t - no, I can’t kill you. So you need to get her to leave your body somehow, in a way that no one else is able to.”

You blink at him in confusion. You, get the sea goddess to leave your body? But your captain is the one with the sea voodoo powers, not you, and-

However, now that you think about it, from the very beginning there had been signs all about you that alluded to who, or what you truly were. From your first meeting with the Kraken to the unearthly strength you had summoned a few days ago, you realise that the sea goddess has been speaking the truth all along.

She is you. You are her. The two of you are one.

Biting on your lower lip, you shut your eyes, calling out to her deep in your mind. She responds instantly to you, rising up from the depths that you’ve kept her hidden in since the very day you had opened your eyes in that prison cell, blue gaze shifting like the swell of the waves in the middle of the storm. When they meet yours, a shudder runs through you - it’s like you’re looking in a mirror.

“Why...” You finally ask the one question that has been clinging to your lips for a while now. “Why did you... make me?”

The sea goddess’ eyes narrow, and one of her hands reach up to cup your face, brushing the pad of her thumb over your cheek. Under her ministrations, you can almost feel yourself disintegrating, but her fingers are surprisingly cool to the touch, devoid of any human warmth.

“Because that boy asked me for a name.” Her voice whispers, soft as the cries of seagulls in the distance, the soothing roll of the ocean waves. “Because I wanted to be called by others. Because someone wanted to call me, and someone needed me. Because I wanted...”

She doesn’t speak the word aloud, but you know what it is that she desires deep down. You’ve spent the entirety of your temporal life looking for it, and you’ve finally found it.

Love.

You think back to the crew, the memories you’ve made together. The way they embrace you and take care of you, the way their love for you shines in the purest of forms even in this violent and dangerous world. You grip her hands tightly in yours.

While hers are cold, yours are warm. The little flames of their love have long since spread to you, warming you up from within until you burn with your own fire. You take a deep breath and speak.

“I have it.”

The sea goddess looks up at you with those ancient blue eyes, and you grip her as tightly as you can, wishing that in some way you could warm those cold hands with your own.

“What you were looking for this entire time, the reason you created me. I found it. Love.” The words tumble from your lips without hesitation, and the sea goddess’ lips part in surprise. “And it’s something I’d be willing to give up my life for. It’s so...” You struggle to find the words to describe it to her, and a tear falls from your eye. “It’s so warm, you know?”

“Warm?” She echoes your words, and you nod so fast you feel like your head is about to fall off, trying to convey to her just how precious being loved feels like. Nothing in the world could make you give this up, not even your own life.

“So please...” you say, voice thick from emotion. Her blue eyes meet yours, and you see your own tears reflected in them. “Don’t make me give it up. Stop hurting the people who love me.”

“But we’ll die.”

You smile through your tears. “And turning back into the sea goddess would be death in itself for me.” You say shakily, and her hands cradle your face gently to wipe the tears from your eyes. “Please... let me die the way I am. As a human, who is loved.”

The sea goddess remains silent for a long moment of time, eternity suspended between the two of you in the darkness of your mind. Faintly, in the back of your mind, you hear seagulls calling, the soft hum of sirens singing, the sound of waves washing over a beach. You know who you truly are now.

“Silly mortal.” She finally says, and you blink up at her in surprise. Her own eyes are shiny with tears, although she wears a small, tender smile on her face that you’ve never seen before. “My plan was for you to fall in love with a mortal and have his soul flow into your body through the sacred bond of marriage, all without you knowing to keep the rituals pure of selfish influence and based solely off love. But you just had to be perceptive and figure out what you truly were.” Her hand rests on your head. “You’ve done so well as a mortal, Sær.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, and now tears slip fast from your own eyes. “I didn’t mean to be that smart.”

“It’s too late for apologies now.” The sea goddess pulls you into an embrace, and you wrap your arms around her tightly. You’re going to die, but for some reason now, it doesn’t seem as scary as you thought it would be. “If this is your choice, then we’ll see it to the end as one.”

Right before your eyes, she begins to dissolve into sea foam in your arms, slipping away and vanishing from sight. All of a sudden, you fall into a stormy sea of ancient memories, millennium upon millennium of wandering the oceans, eons of watching the rise and fall of civilizations from afar. The storms you’ve brought, the shipwrecks you’ve dragged to the bottom of the sea, and a single one eyed boy on a beach.

You almost lose yourself to these memories, surging over you, overflowing - until a hand pulls on yours, an anchor, reminding you that someone is still at the other side.

He’s still waiting for you to come back.

The sound of something clattering to the ground stuns you out of your stupor.

When your eyes blink open, you look down to see the knife lying on the floor of the cabin. You attempt to wriggle the fingers of your one good hand, and your mouth falls open in shock when they actually do move according to your wishes.

“Captain, look! I did it!” You say excitedly, turning to look at Hongjoong, but the second you see him, your breath catches in your throat. He’s looking at you with such a painfully fond expression that you almost need to shy away from his gaze, and you swallow, opening your mouth to speak again. “Captain, I-”

He reaches out with one arm, and pulls you into his embrace. For a second, you can’t breathe, nose pressed into his shoulder and the gentle warmth of his body surrounding yours. “I know.” His voice is hoarse, spilling over with emotion. “Good job, Chin Hae. I knew you could do it.”

The two of you remain in that position for a while, until Hongjoong draws away with a stern expression on his face. “Now, don’t you have something to tell me?”

You tilt your head to the side, too close to him to actually think straight. Now that you’re not on the verge of sobbing, you realise that you’re so close that the scent of him surrounds you - ink and steel and sea salt on the tip of your tongue. “N-no?” You manage to stammer out, making to pull away from him, your cheeks suddenly burning hot. He doesn’t let you go, however, one corner of his mouth pulling up into a small smirk, before the expression on his face turns into something more serious.

“What was all that about you dying?”

Ah. Swallowing, you sit back on your haunches, looking back at the door. It’s still closed. Is it too late for you to start running now?

“Chin Hae.” His hands wrap around yours, and you bite your lower lip. “Tell me.”

It’s not a command, but you spill everything to him anyway. From the very beginning about how you started to suffer from nosebleeds, to how your hand fell off, to the pain that you now feel in your legs. And the entire time, Hongjoong listens to you with a calm expression on his face, not interrupting you as you speak.

“So... now that you know I’m dying...” you say hesitantly, looking up at your captain’s face to see what kind of expression he’ll make. “Do you think it’d be a better idea to hand me in to the Royal Navy instead?”

At your words, Hongjoong immediately shakes his head without hesitation. “Don’t be silly.” He scolds you, and you blink at him in confusion. He laughs at your expression and raps his knuckles against your forehead lightly. “See, this is what I meant by I know what you’re like - that spirit that took over your body got you completely wrong.”

You pout. “Well... that’s different. I’m being serious here! I don’t have much longer to live, so even if you hand me over to the Royal Navy-”

“Let me stop you right there.” Hongjoong holds a finger up to your lips, a smile on his face and a gleam in his eye. “Since when did how long you have left to live change how much you mean to me?”

“But-”

“Not the mention, the crew would certainly mutiny if I even suggested such a thing.” An amused laugh falls from his lips, and you smile. “I only have one eye left and I’m really not interested in getting marooned again on another island, so,” he draws you closer in his embrace. “I will definitely not be giving you up without a fight, and I’m sure the rest of the crew would agree with me.”

Perhaps a while ago you would have argue, but after that encounter with the sea goddess, you understand - that love would surpass even the base human instinct of self preservation - it’s what sets humans apart from the rest of creation.

So you take a deep breath, and hold up a pinky to him. “Make a promise with me?”

Hongjoong looks surprised at your words, raising an eyebrow. “Haven’t we had quite enough bad experiences with promises already?” But still, he raises his hand to wrap around yours, blinking down at your joined hands.

You nod solemnly. “I know. But that promise was you telling me not to die, which was totally unfair on your part.” Hongjoong lets out a short bark of laughter. “So promise me... that tomorrow won’t be end.”

Hongjoong raises an eyebrow at that. “Tomorrow... won’t be the end?”

You nod earnestly. “That no matter what happens tomorrow,” if you die, your existence will be wiped clean like a blank slate “that the crew will find its way to be together. Regardless of where we are, or how we’re doing, or how far apart we are. No matter what, we’ll find our way to each other somehow.”

You close your eyes, pressing his hands to your forehead, almost as if you’re beseeching the Fates to listen to your request. The same Fate that led you up the gangplank of the Treasure. The same Fate that had marooned him on that island, that had put all of this into motion. Please, don’t let us come apart.

Because we’re family.

Hongjoong looks at you for a long moment, before he smiles and squeezes your little pinky with his. His expression is impossibly tender.

“We have been, and will always be.”

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez pirate king #w; pirate king #w; ot8 #w; fanfiction

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