#I don’t go here (zi-o) but I gotta say that it gave me one of my most favorite gifs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shewasanamericangirl · 5 years

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screamin bout zi-o 36

i had fun doing this last week, so let’s make another screencap post! of course, i said that, and then it took several days to upload all the pictures because tumblr just stops fucking working sometimes. anyhoo! it’s yuko kitajima roast hour. image-heavy and spoiler-heavy, naturally.

so ginga blew everyone up and they ran away to a sewer it seems.

honestly that theory makes as much sense as anything else on this booty ass fuckin’ kamen rider show

i was just like...he isn’t

but then he was

swartz: she could step on me in those red pumps and i’d say Thank You

hora: i regret so much right now

uhr: *shonen anime character walking down the street pose*

then over quartzer plays and im starting to feel a little lost because i don’t get to hear about the episode according to woz’s book? hello??

yuko’s still out gettin her spa treatments and shit, god only knows how she got the money for all that, and somehow she never crosses paths with the cops or anyone who recognizes her from the news?? uh

honestly yeah?? a queen deserves to look GOOD. her theme music is eerily sexy, i need an mp3 of it right now

don’t get me wrong, im well aware that swartz is being a suck-up to try and get yuko to help with his plan to seize ginga’s power, but damn im kinda shipping swartz with yuko now too...i mean, he WAS looking at her while doing the sexy ice cream thing last week. what flavor ice cream would yuko be? black cherry chip maybe?

(headcanon: woz tries apple pie ice cream and declares it a crime against both apple pie and ice cream alike--but he still eats the whole coneful)

hora and uhr get ZA WARUDO’D down the stairs by swartz

we were all uhr right here

yeaaaaaah she just doesn’t want to fight ginga

tsukuyomi’s a mood. someone put a band-aid on geiz’s forehead pls

ok woz i get that if you’re looking for a despotic ruler to follow that yuko is likely a better bet than sougo, but you’re missing an important detail: if yuko actually had a shot at becoming queen of everything, she’d already have one of you in tow, and you would most likely hate each other.

...majou means “demon queen” in this case, not “witch”, right?

aaaaaand this...is the moment when yuko started making me very uncomfortable. the way she responds: “yes...i do remember. it’s you.”

and sougo’s face just lights up--my guy, she could so easily be lying. she didn’t say one thing about the band-aid or the playground or anything that’d indicate she’s actually sougo’s crush.

like...if not for the fact that sougo had such a crush on the seifuku girl, it wouldn’t be all that major a memory. it likely wasn’t for the girl in question--just a happy sunny day cheering up a lonely little boy. a beautiful memory, yes...but memories fade.

can someone please explain to me why woz’s characterization is all over the place in kiva arc? are you pro-yuko or anti-yuko, woz? i don’t understand what’s going through his pretty head at all honestly. he gets pretty taciturn in the scenes he’s not inhaling pie, but then at times he seems to think yuko’s cool aaaaaagh i don’t know

junichiro: meowing, just wanted an excuse to cook lots of food

sougo: “yay, uncle’s cooking!”

woz: [deadpan monotone] “yaaaaaaay uncle’s cooking...”

ive had enough of this evil bitch honestly but when she points it’s still Good Shit

ridiculous move name, but also an awesome move name

and turning to stone to heal up while the sun’s clouded over? very cool

denied

i noped so hard at this part. like...i really do feel protective of sougo. yuko doesn’t give a damn about him, she just doesn’t want him to get in her way.

nope. no. nuh uh. you two step away from each other right now.

YOU CANNOT MAKE BABIES WITH AN IDIOT FETUS

ok but in all seriousness, do you want time jackers? because, im calling it now, letting oma zi-o go in raw is how you get time jackers.

yeah im pretty sure miho would’ve kept at it if she’d lived, and yuko...shes not gonna listen to sougo

thank you for the much needed reality check furry man

so she’s a...fu-joshi? 👀

☝☝☝

yuko wears such fabulous shoes

was anyone surprised at this point that yuko was the real killer? i sure wasn’t. not after all the obvious lies.

i love her leitmotif. i need it. where do i download

SHE DIDN’T PROMISE SHIT

hey kids! it’s time for *mashes play button* la-la-la lies! yeah, tell me that you love me! la-la-la-lies! look deep into my eyes! la-la-la-lies! say there’s no one else above me! i’m the king of fools, cuz baby, you’re the queen of actually very hurtful and manipulative lies!

that’s such bullshit

now im the last person to be like “don’t play the dead mommy card”--i practically keep that card in the hello kitty wallet my dead mommy gave me. but i bet you yuko’s mom is just fine (aside from living with the trauma of knowing her daughter’s a murderer and pathological liar).

sougo,,,,,pls

thank you tsukuyomi. god sougo really needs a chaperone with yuko around, he’s way too dumb and thirsty.

GUESS WHO’S BACK. BACK AGAIN. fortunately, it seems swartz and woz have been just standing there watching him for the duration of the rain shower.

lest we forget (because i didn’t screencap it), when zi-o took the brunt of ginga’s attack earlier, it sent him flying. now, that’s a human body, which has some ability to absorb force because it’s mostly pretty soft and fluid. yuko’s manhole cover almost completely absorbed this blast--she barely shifted her weight on impact. is it just that she’s THAT ripped?

then The Boys rider kick ginga to oblivion. rip ginga, you didn’t have a personality or a character arc, we never even saw you un-transformed--you were just a cool looking plot device with pretty attacks. but for that much, we appreciate you!

swartz looks so pleased with himself. he must not have watched the preview for this episode.

YOINK! gotta love how swartz doesn’t look surprised so much as puzzled.

sure am glad kurowoz took his other self’s advice and kept an eye on swartz

i love it so much how woz just has these magic scarf powers and it needs no explanation? hell, he can fly and time travel and make people fall asleep and he’s super strong too, with no explanation? and he’s the comic relief? ALSO HE’S REALLY HOT? woz is a being to behold honestly

speaking of super strong and really hot, yuko is KILLING IT in that gown. i mean...i guess that’s the intention. killing it. cuz she’s a homicidal maniac. haha.

she’s so good at pointing. yuko could be a prosecutor in shuichi kitaoka: ace attorney. (FUND IT)

yuko throws her manhole cover at the boys (rude!) and next we see geiz holding it. a shame we don’t get to see him snatch it out of midair. or did woz catch it and just hand it to him? we may never know.

zi-o. listen to geiz, zi-o. use the fucking watch. just use the watch, zi-o. you seriously plan on just letting another kiva go on a killing spree? do you not get by now what she’s capable of?

thank goodness zi-o has his retainers to make wise decisions so he doesn’t have to.

please note the placement of mars on ginga woz’s suit. very important.

I Love You

lmao

WHERE IS YOUR MANHOLE COVER NOW

my favorite character gets a beautiful rainbow final attack. i feel so blessed.

i mean...protecting all mankind would probably include protecting them from people like yuko. just sayin.

is it bad of me that my immediate thought right then was “at least woz’s attack wasn’t what did her in.”

this shot, especially in the context of the church, definitely gave me pieta vibes--albeit reversed somewhat.

weirdly enough, woz does an outro instead of an intro this episode.

at this point while watching, i said to shylax “you know what this calls for? pie!” but before i could finish--

--PIE! cmon sougo, it’s time to gobble up your feelings!

fucking woz, i swear, you have pie in your mouth and pie in your right hand and pie on your FACE and when your overlord expresses how miserable he is you just go for his uneaten pie with your empty hand.

...is it normal to eat pie like this in japan? because the only times i’ve seen americans make this much of a mess eating pie is when they’re toddlers.

oh hey, what do you know? looks like sougo’s first love wasn’t a violent crazy person after all. she also wasn’t yuko.

sougo’s just an idiot who will mistake any older woman who rubs him on the chin and calls him cute for his sailor girl.

previews!

i blame joshua kiryu

how eloquently this one line sums up not only kamen rider zi-o but kamen rider decade as well. that’s it, that’s the show. that’s the clusterfuck we will inevitably get whenever toei decides to make a kamen rider crossover.

LOOK AT THIS! TSUKUYOMI REMEMBERED SOMETHING! who is she smiling at? is it her dad? is that swartz behind her?! omg baby tsukuyomi is so CUTE!

“a team”. uh huh. is that what the youth are calling it these days? cuz when i was a wee lass, i believe they called it “fucking”.

so what have we learned this week?

very little about ginga

sougo does not remember faces all that well

before sougo dates ANYONE that person should be fully vetted by junichiro, geiz, tsukuyomi, and woz because CLEARLY HE CANNOT SAFELY CHOOSE A PARTNER FOR HIMSELF

i still really like yuko as a character, if not as a person. same as i enjoy junji ito manga, but would be very upset if most of it happened in real life.

swartz loves a woman who can kick his ass

what the fuck are manhole covers in this world

i can’t wait for baby tsukuyomi flashbacks! that, and more tsukasa.

#kamen rider zi o #drag yuko 2k19

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mybullshitsensesaretingling · 6 years

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Doughnuts

Request: Can I get a Star Trek imagine? Reader works in engineering and is close friend with Scotty. When Chekov starts shadowing Scotty he meets the reader and a friendship quickly forms because they are both chipper balls of sunshine. notices that their friendship could become something more with a nudge in the right direction. Soon the Scotsman has get the two together. Just something super silly and fluffy. - @peacebuglove

A/N: I don’t have anything to say about this story, but I feel it’s important that you all know that the kazoo was not invented in Russia, but in fact was invented in Georgia by a man named Alabama.

You pressed down on the receiver on the wall to silence the beeping.

“Live from the Alpha Quadrant, it’s the extraordinary Ensign (Y/L/N). Tactical, you’re our first and favorite caller. Talk to me,” you said, in an your best impression of a talk radio host.

“Hi. This is Ensign Melnick. Long time listener. First time caller. One of our terminals is glitching,” the officer on the other end played along.

“Well, Melnick, that certainly is quite the pickle. Have you considered turning it off and back on again?”

“I have.”

“I’ll talk to the all powerful Lieutenant Commander, see if we can’t get someone up there to help you out,” you told him.

“Thank you. Tactical out.”

“Ye do know yer crazy, right?” Scotty asked from the panel he was working on beside you.

You smiled but otherwise ignored the question. “You want me to go take care of that?”

He shook his head.

“Are you sure? I could fix it and be back before you can ‘(Y/N), you deserve a promotion’. I could even grab lunch on the way back.”

“Yer in the middle of a diagnostic,” he reminded you.

“Ok, but after I finish, I’m going to get us some lunch.”

“Ye’ll get no arguments from me.”

You started to walk back to the computer you had been at before the call, but stopped when a bright yellow shirt caught your attention. You had seen the boy in it around the engine room more and more over the past few months, usually talking to Scotty when you weren’t.

“Scotty, did you get a sidekick without telling me?” you asked.

“I haven’t gotten a new sidekick since you.”

“I like to think of myself as the protagonist of our story, thank you very much.” You looked back up to the curly haired boy who looked like he belonged on the bridge. “Do you have a stalker then?”

“What are ye goin’ on about.” He looked up and followed your gaze. “Oh. That’s just Chekov.”

“But why is he here? Not that I don’t think he should be here. He can be wherever he wants. But he’s dressed in gold, which usually implies a certain amount of not being here,” you babbled.

“Chekov!” Scotty called out getting the boy’s attention. “Come down here, lad.”

The navigator jogged down from the catwalk.

“Yes, Mister Scott?”

“Please tell (Y/N) that you are not a stalker.”

Chekov gave him a puzzled look, but did as he asked anyway, followed by, “I thought you vould be shorter.”

“Why?” you asked, suddenly very aware of your exact height.

“He always calls you ‘vee’,” Chekov told you.

“He talks about me?” You turned to Scotty. “You talk about me?”

He shrugged.

“That’s so sweet!” you grinned.

“I’d tell ye not to let it go to yer head, but it’s a tad late for that, extraordinary ensign.” He started to move past the pair of you to a computer terminal. “Why don’t you walk ‘im through yer diagnostic.”

“Vat are you running a diagnostic on?” Chekov asked.

“The graviton field generator,” you told him.

“I have not vorked vith ze graviton field generator.”

“Well, come on!” You practically bounced back to your station. Being an ensign, you rarely got to show others the ropes. “We’re still getting some residual charge readings from yesterday’s incident, so I’m running a level three diagnostic.”

“Level three? Is zat necessary?” he asked.

“If this was just a maintenance check it wouldn't be.” You tapped at the screen. “Level threes really aren't as bad as people make them out to be. I think they're fun.”

“Me too,” he admitted.

You smiled at him over your shoulder, before starting to go over the read outs. You pointed out the readings that you wouldn't get with a level one diagnostic.

“Zat one.” Chekov pointed to a dial on the wall.

“This one?” you asked pointing at a different one.

He shook his head and pointed at the first dial again. “Zat one.”

“This one?” you asked, reaching for a levor.

Scotty had you help teach Chekov one of the systems while he went to a meeting. A choice he was sure he would soon regret. You had spent most of that time messing with him or going on long tangents that only had a 50% chance of looping back to your original statement.

“No, zat-” he stopped himself. “You know vat dial I am talking about.”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “I think you know this system well enough. In fact I think you know the whole ship forwards and backwards. Which means it’s time for a snack break. I’m in the mood for doughnuts”

“But Mr. Scott,” he said warily.

“He’ll be fine with it if we bring him one.” Now that you had mentioned doughnuts, you were determined to get one. Taking Chekov’s hand in yours, you towed him along behind you as you headed for the lift. “You seem like a jelly filled kinda guy to me.”

He stared at your joined hands, but didn't let his shock at the act of affection show in his voice. “I love jelly filled doughnuts! Especially ze purple ones!”

Almost every engineer on duty knew when you got back. Your collective laughter came close to drowning out the sounds of the engines completely. Scotty waited at the main console for you to tell him some excuse for leaving your post. The truth of the matter was that he didn’t really care. As long as everything was in working order, he was a lot looser with his command. All he asked was that when the time came, everyone was ready to work with no questions asked.

“The kazoo was not invented in Russia,” your tone was somewhere between irritation and amusement, “Don’t take this from me, goldie.”

“And where have ye been?” Scotty asked.

“We went to get doughnuts.” You held out a plate for him, smiling brightly. “We brought you some!”

“Zis one’s creme filled.” Chekov pointed at the one on the left.

“And this one’s apple cinnamon,” you added.

“Ohh.” His fingers danced over to the plate. “Thank you.” He picked up a doughnut and stuck the edge of it in his mouth, waving you off. “Go do something.”

“We’re gonna go to the jefferies tube where the gravity's flipped to uh,” you searched your mind for a good reason for the two of you to go there.

“Run tests,” Chekov finished. Laughter still clung to the edges of his words, despite the two of you trying to seem professional.

“Yep. Uh huh. Gotta get that fixed,” you nodded.

“Aye, sure that’s what yer doin’.” He shook his head in amusement at the sight of the two of you scurrying off, giggling and joking the whole way.

“I vant to see ze mooooon,” Chekov recited, proudly.

“That was terrible,” you laughed despite yourself.

“That’s the point,” he said, waving his screwdriver at you. “That and making you smile.”

“That was almost cheesier than your jokes.” You shoved his shoulder with yours, but you couldn’t help your smile widening a bit at his comment.

He chuckled, handing you the decoupler before you had to ask for it. Over the last couple weeks, the two of you had gotten in a groove while working together. You worked in perfect harmony, laughing and joking without ever letting your work slip.

“So this is what Chekov does with his time of?” Kirk asked Scotty, who was pretending not to be watching to two of you. “Flirt with your engineers?”

“Aye, but just the one as of late,” Scotty answered.

“Really?”

The two men shared a knowing look that was interrupted by you shouting out a “Captain!” and moving to stand at attention. Chekov followed your lead, stumbling in his haste to get to his feet.

“At ease, ensigns,” Kirk ordered. “Just stopping by to see how things are going down here.”

“Zey are good, Keptain,” Chekov said.

“Better than good,” you said. “Great!”

“Yes, yes,” Chekov agreed enthusiastically. “Ze things are great!”

“That’s what I like to hear. As you were.” He nodded at you as you went back to work. “How long do you give it?”

“They'll be together before we reach Starbase 65, sir.”

“You're going to meddle, aren't you?” Kirk asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Aye, sir, I'm going to meddle.”

Sliding down to the floor, you let your head loll back against the pipe behind you. You took a deep breath and waited for the panic and chaos from the battle you had just scraped through to leave you. The absence of shouts and alarms was deafening, making the ambient sound of the engines sound twice as loud. Frantic footfalls echoed through the room, but you kept your eyes on the ceiling, wanting a few more seconds of peace.

“Are you alright?”

The familiar accent took the dread over dealing with how everything was running right out of you. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face when a head full of curly hair came into your line of sight. It was the first time in almost a month that you hadn’t worked at his side. Without you noticing, your shift had been moved around to you were only on duty when he wasn’t, leaving him free to be in engineering.

“Did you run here all the way from the bridge?” Part of you wasn’t even surprised. He always seemed to be where he was needed.

“Yes. I vas,” he rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck, “vorried about you.”

You tried to form a response but all you could do was beam at him. Luckily, that seemed to be enough for him and he sat down next to you on the floor and let out a long sigh.

“That was eventful,” you stated, still staring at the maze of tubes, pipes, and cat walks above you.

Out of your peripherals you saw Chekov nodding in agreement.

“Vant to get some doughnuts?” he asked.

“A dozen each.”

“Make it a baker's dozen.”

“With extra sprinkles!”

Scotty walked up to you, placed his hands on his hips, and looked down at the two of you. After a couple seconds he nodded. “Come on then.”

You pointed up at him, your finger following him as he started to walk away. “He’s got scotch and whiskey.”

“Much better plan,” Chekov said.

Getting up, the two of you followed him to his office. By the time the two of you were in the room, Scotty was already pouring a second glass. When finished pouring out a third, he handed you each one and lifted his up.

“To a ship that can wrassle with the worst of ‘em!”

The room filled with echoes of the sentiment and praises of the ship.

The second you had emptied your glass, you filled it back up, clinked it against Chekov’s, and yelled, “To navigators who get us out of Romulan space!”

“To not being dead!” Chekov said when he moved on to the next glass.

Scotty and you cheered and brought your drinks back to your lips. Chekov swallowed, but then something occurred to him and he got to his feet, setting his glass on the desk.

“Where ya goin’, goldie?” you asked.

“Ve need snacks. I vill be back,” he told you, walking from the office. “Do not drink too much vithout me, red.”

With a snort, Scotty took a sip. His expression told you he knew something you didn’t. He never kept secrets from you - mostly because he was terrible at lying and had a habit of blurting whatever it was out before you had the chance to ask- so whatever this was had to involve you.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothing.” His wry tone only served to make you want to push him more.

“What?” you asked again this time drawing the word out until it was almost unrecognizable.

“Just you two.”

You quirked a brow. “Us two?”

“Yer always together, laughin’, jokin’. Ye’ve got nicknames. It’s all just a little,” he moved his glass around like it would hit the word he was looking for, but it didn’t.

“A little what, Scotty?”

“Och, ye know what.”

You pursed your lips and shook your head.

“Quit actin’ like ye dinnae ken what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”

You let out a puff of air. “You’re talking about us in a,” you held up a finger on either hand and moved them next to each other, “sorta way, aren’t you?”

“Aye!”

You bit your lower lip and stared into the golden liquid in your hand. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

“And why not?” From his tone, you could tell he had put some thought into your relationship with Chekov.

“Because he so smart and his hair’s so curly.” You took a long drink. “Besides he doesn’t feel that way about me.”

Scotty shook his head in dismay. “The boy runs the length of the ship in five minutes for ye and ye don’t think he feels that way.”

“Well, that’s just… a really good point actually,” a small smile slowly started to spread across your face. “You really think he might?”

“Och, I more than think. I’m damn sure.”

“Huh. What’da know?” you tried to keep the giddiness from your tone, but failed.

“Ok, give it back now,” you whined as Chekov picked your report apart. All you wanted was for him to read over it, before you turned it in, but instead you were transported to an eleventh grade AP English class peer review. And he was practically cackling as you got more and more upset.

“No,” he said holding your PADD at arms length, “you asked me to read it, so let me read it.”

“I changed my mind.” You reached out for it, but he pulled it further out of reach.

“You can have it back when I have finished.” He held it up above his head, reading it at an angle that could not have been comfortable.

You stepped forward, crowding his space and reaching for your PADD again. Chekov tilted his face down to you, in doing so brushed his nose against yours. In that moment of closeness, all doubts about how he felt melted away. In fact all thoughts at all melted away, and you were left with nothing but impulse and instinct.

Dropping one of your hands to his chest, you bunched the gold fabric of his uniform up in your fist and tugged him impossibly closer. With your other arm, wrapping itself around his shoulders, you tipped your chin up and pressed you lips to his. In an instant, Chekov had a hand on your waist, keeping you as close to him as he could.

Far too soon, pulled back, sliding your hand down his arm until it reached his. You smiled at his change in expression. All traces of smugness gone.

“Can I have my PADD back now?” you asked in a softer voice than you had been using.

“Uh uh.” He dropped it on your desk and pulled you back into him. “Ve can vork on zat later.”

“Is Pavel Chekov, textbook workaholic, suggesting we procrastinate?” you teased.

“I have other priorities now.”

#chekov #chekov x reader #Pavel Chekov #chekov imagine #pavel chekov imagine #pavel chekov x reader #scotty imagine #star trek imagine #star trek imagines #chekov imagines

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lowat-golden-tower · 7 years

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And Eye Must Scream

AO3 Mirror

@caustic-synishade

Jack woke to the horrid odor of too much bleach and antiseptic, with a steady beeping ringing in his ears. He could hear the sound of old pipes creaking above his head and the intermittent drip of water from somewhere else in the room. Shifting slightly where he sat, he emitted a soft groan. His mouth felt dry as cotton and his head a bit stuffed with the fluff as well; making thinking straight a little difficult. “Augh… fook… what the fook….”

Swaying slightly from left to right, Jack grunted when he found himself unable to move his arms. Or his legs, for that matter. Something rough- rope?- was binding his limbs. His legs were strapped along those of the chair, and his wrists were crossed tightly at his back. A rope around his middle stopped him from twisting his hands around to either side and when he tried to lean forward, more rope wrapped about his chest and the chair’s back kept him in place. He was rendered very much immobile and that was when panic began to bubble inside of him.

Terror licking at the edges of his consciousness, Jack forced his eyes open. Thankfully, the room was dim, so he wasn’t immediately blinded. His eyes required little time to adjust but his vision remained fuzzy a few moments after his prolonged knock out. His head was one of the few parts of his body he could still move, so he blinked rapidly and swiveled it around in some effort to find out just where he was.

Deep greens colored the small room. The walls were tiled, but the floor was sheer cement with a drain centered almost perfectly between Jack’s feet. The ceiling above was chipping paint and only played host to a single, uncovered light bulb. It’s flickering glow cast large, unsettling shadows throughout the room and Jack could feel goosebumps rising on his skin as he took in the furnishings.

Beside his chair, which was in the center of the room, sat a wheeled table. Several medical instruments, beakers and unlabeled jars were scattered across its surface; which was stained with faded blood. On Jack’s other side stood an IV stand and as he followed the trailing tube with his eyes, he belatedly registered the light ache on the back of his hand. Wiggling his fingers, Jack confirmed the IV drip was attached and felt his heart rate skyrocket. There was an acidic green substance in the IV bag that didn’t in any way look remotely healthy. Breaths quickening, he twisted his wrists and stretched his fingers until he managed to dislodge the tube from where the needle had been embedded into his skin. He didn’t dare to rip that part out just yet; bleeding out would get him nowhere.

Swallowing thickly, Jack continued scoping out the room. “What the fook….” He had to twist in his chair and crane his neck to see it, but there was definitely a heart rate monitor behind him. He could see the wires trailing over to where he sat, and when he wiggled against his bonds he felt the light pull of the adhesive pads on his skin beneath his shirt. The steady beeping that had been infiltrating his thoughts since waking up was the measure of his own racing heartbeat.

“O-okay. Okay, Jackaboy, easy does it now. There’s gotta be a door here somewhere. Maybe it’s just a prank! Y’know, like the Scare Pewdiepie thing. Arsehole’s probably gettin’ back ye for bein’ such a badass villain on his show. That’s it, that’s it. Okay. Door. Door, door, door…” Jack looked around again and finally spied the thing; a tall sheet of intimidating metal set into one of the walls. He had to squint just to make it out in the dimness and wasn’t entirely sure if it had a handle or not. Great.

Jack sighed heavily and attempted to jerk his chair forwards; possibly towards the door and near freedom. Yet the chair didn’t budge an inch and it was then he realized it had been bolted down to the floor. “Well. Fook me in the arse, then.” Whoever had put him there, they did not want him to move before they got back.

“Welp. When in doubt, shout it out! Like fook if I’m just gonna sit here and wait fer someone to show up.” Licking at his lips and assured this was still just some kind of elaborate joke, Jack drew a deep breath. “HEY!! HEEEEEY!!! HELLOOOO?!?! ANYBODY OUT THERE?! I’M AWAKE! YE CAN COME AN’ ‘TORTURE’ ME NOW OR WHATEVER!! C’MON, AREN’T YE ARSEHOLES SUPPOSED TO ALREADY BE IN THE ROOM WHEN I WAKE UP, ALL MENACIN’ AN’ SHITE?! LAAAAAME! FELIX, IF THIS IS YOUR DOIN’ I’M GONNA KNOCK YER TEETH INTA NEXT WEEK!! I MEAN, YE STABBED ME WITH A NEEDLE! YER LUCKY I AIN’T SCARED OF NEEDLES!!”

Jack paused to catch his breath and wet his lips again. Lord, he could do with some water. He had no idea how long he was out, or how he’d even gotten to this weird location, so someone had serious explaining to do. For now, he was prepared to scream and shout until something happened. Not like he could do much else.

As soon as he opened his mouth to start screaming again, the heavy metal door abruptly opened. Jack was startled into a slight choke, and then silence as he blinked at the figure stepping calmly into the room. He wasn’t that tall, but he easily towered over Jack in his current sitting position. He bore the white coat of a physician, but it was coupled with jeans. At the moment, his face was hidden almost entirely behind a clipboard as he jotted something down on it; only a surgical cap and the barest tuft of green visible over its top edge. Behind him, the door slid shut with a decisive thud.

“Ah, Mister McLoughlin, zo you are awake. It iz good to hear your pipes are in working order. My, you certainly are a loud little zing aren’t you?” The man had an outrageously bad German accent tinged with something else, and Jack might have laughed were it not for the fact it sounded so familiar. Scarily familiar. Jack recalled personally throwing his own voice into that accent on several occasions.

“What th… Dr. Schneeplestein??” he exclaimed, gawking.

The pen’s scribbling came to a halt, followed up by a soft click. “Zo. It vould seem zat my reputation precedes me.” The doctor drawled while he lowered the clipboard down to waist level. Jack was shocked when he was met with his own blue eyes; the corners crinkled by a grin hidden beneath a large surgical mask. Brilliant green hair, the same shade as his own, poured forth out of the surgical cap atop the doctor’s head. The lookalike was so spot-on Jack had to do a double take. “You look surprised, Sean. Not who you were expecting?” His tone rose in pitch, tinkling with barely subdued laughter; identical to the actual Dr. Schneeplestein Jack liked to portray in his videos.

“Holy shite. Where the heck did they find you, eh? I mean, I hope they didn’t make ye dye yer hair er anythin’. That’d suck. But damn, some of me own brothers don’t look that much like me! This is incredible!” It reminded Jack of the doppelganger myth. Granted, legend went that a person would die if they ever met their doppelganger, so he really hoped it was just an extreme coincidence. Maybe the lower half of the guy’s face looked nothing like Jack.

Dr. Schneeplestein hummed, clearly not enthused with Jack’s ramblings as he turned his attentions back to the clipboard in his hands. “Quite. Now. Let’s zee here…. Sean McLoughlin. It vould zeem you’re having a bit of trouble viz your eye. No problem! I can fix zat right up for you, my dear patient. After all, I am a real doctor.” He reached out to condescendingly pat at Jack’s cheek.

Jack’s nose scrunched up at the gesture and he pulled away from the gloved hand; glowering at the doctor with confusion. “An eye problem? I don’t have any problems! I mean, unless ye count the fact I need glasses, but that’s hardly somethin’ I was lookin’ ta fix. An’ why am I tied down to this chair?? This can’t be up to code, when it comes to the proper treatment of patients! Shouldn’t I be in a hospital bed or somethin’?” Jack was, admittedly, a little unsettled by the suddenness of it all. He would have at least liked a heads up that he was going to be the victim in some gag video, if not some script to go off of. Hopefully his improv would be good enough.

Dr. Schneeplestein clicked his tongue as he walked calmly around to stand at Jack’s back. “Now, now. Who iz ze doctor here? Do you have a bona fide medical degree? I do not zink zo, no. As your doctor, I am ze one who knows vhat iz best for you. And I say chair iz being just fine vor operation… vhat iz zis? Why iz your IV out, you naughty boy?” He tsk’d and bent to grab up the fallen tube. “You need your fluids if zis iz to be a zuccessful zurgery!”

“Fluids my arse! The fook is that green stuff?? It looks like gelatin! Or radioactive goo! I don’t want that in me!!” Jack snapped back, though he could feel Dr. Schneeplestein popping the tube back into place. He immediately attempted to rip it out again, partially out of pettiness, but a sharp pinch near the entry point of the needle made him gasp and jolt in his chair.

“Ah ah ah, naughty naughty, Jackyboy. No touching ze equipment or your IV! Doctor’s orders. Do it again, and I vill be forced to take ze drastic measures.” Patting at the little IV needle, Dr. Schneeplestein moved to the table beside Jack and set down his clipboard. “Now, let me zee…”

Even if the substance in the IV bag looked like a normal solution used in hospitals, Jack still would have wiggled his fingers and popped the IV tube out again. Just to mess with the asshole muttering to himself in heavily accented gibberish over the table. The soft clatter of plastic hitting cement was loud in the otherwise quiet room and Dr. Schneeplestein paused; turning to look at the source. He shifted his gaze to Jack, brows furrowing in obvious consternation, and Jack childishly stuck out his tongue. “Bite me.”

The doctor gave a long suffering sigh and rubbed briefly at his temples. “Oh, no, zere vill be no biting here, Mister McLoughlin.” He moved to pick up the tube once again, popping it back into place. “However, zere vill be pain.” Without any warning, Dr. Schneeplestein grabbed the index finger on Jack’s unaffected hand and bent it sharply backwards. He didn’t stop when it became painful; he pushed straight through until knuckle was popping out and the bone cracked under the pressure.

Jack screamed. He screamed louder than he ever had, back arching up away from the chair much as the ropes would allow as tears welled up in his eyes to stream down his face. It wasn’t fake. It wasn’t a joke. That was his real, attached finger that had just been horribly broken and the pain washing up into his arm was almost enough to make him gag. He choked on his own sobs, coughing and wheezing as his body shook with fresh trembles.

“Oopzie! Oh how clumsy of me, it zeems I have accidentally made ze boo-boo vhile adjusting your IV! How unfortunate. Not to worry, zhough! I vill be zure to fix it, once ve have concluded ze zurgery you are actually here for, hm? Yes. Zere zere now, just try to relax.” Dr. Schneeplestein, satisfied with his results, released Jack’s hand in favor of patting at Jack’s quivering head. He returned to the table and began grouping some items together; including a scalpel, forceps, tweezers and a beaker.

Jack was in too much pain to try and analyze the collection of instruments. His finger was still throbbing wildly behind him as he sniffled and sobbed. In a heartbeat, what appeared to be just a shitty gag video was suddenly, painfully real and Jack had absolutely no idea what to do. He’d apparently been kidnapped by some kind of madman that took his joking doctor role way too seriously and had zero qualms with causing Jack undue harm. Not quite willing to move his hands or arms yet, Jack twisting his legs against the ropes and again attempted to move his chair in some fashion. His panic had returned, and he didn’t want to be there anymore.

“Ze more you struggle, ze vorse it iz going to be~” Dr. Schneeplestein sing-songed from where he was pouring a clear solution into the beaker. He hummed a little tune as he set about preparing, utterly unphased by the sobbing young man beside him or the wild beeping of the heart rate monitor.

“Y-ye sick fook! You crazy person! If ye think I’m j-jus’ gonna sit here after you broke me finger and let ye do who-knows-what the hell ta me, then ye really are insane! Let me go!! I don’t know what the hell is really goin’ on here or who ye think ye are, but let me go!! LET ME GO!!!” Jack outright screamed through his sobs as his struggles redoubled. Fear and panic sent adrenaline rushing through his veins, but Dr. Schneeplestein wasn’t having any of it.

A gloved hand curled into Jack’s hair and jerked his head roughly back. Jack feared the crazed doctor might break his neck next, but this time he stopped before any serious damage could be done. Jack still screamed, terrified and uncomfortable, as his shoulders shook and his mouth gaped with heavy pants. His throat had been bared, and Dr. Schneeplestein stared him down with icy blue eyes as he place a scalpel to the pale skin. “I really do not have time for multiple zurgeries today, Mister McLoughlin. Please do not continue tempting me to mutilate your lovely body in horribly entertaining vaya~ Besides, he vouldn’t be very pleased viz me if I encroached upon his territory….” As if having second thoughts, the doctor pulled away from Jack and released his hair.

Jack’s head rolled forward with a shaky huff and he turned to scowl at the doctor over his shoulder. The man was digging around for something in the pockets of his coat. “Wh-who’s territory?? What’s goin’ on? Answer me! Is someone makin’ ye do this?! Are they the ones that called fer this fookin’ surgery an’ brought me here?! Tell me!! Tell me, you pile of arse, ye ragin’ sack of dimnpffgh!! Mnghhff!!”

“Zat voice of yours really iz zomezing, I’ll give you zat, Mister McLoughlin. But as your doctor, I require concentration for zis very delicate zurgery. I am zertain you understand.” Dr. Schneeplestein knotted off the strip of cloth he’d tugged forcefully between Jack’s teeth at the back of his head, then gave it another pat. Jack, furious and scared out of his wits, screamed against his new gag and thrashed much as the ropes would allow. “Zo fiesty. Do mind your IV, now. I’d hate to accidentally break any more of your fragile leetle bones if I have to plug it back in again.”

Jack didn’t listen, just continued to tug and twist and struggle as the doctor came back around to his front. He pulled a stethoscope from his breast pocket and popped it into his ears. “Now, before we begin, ze heartbeat! We must find ze heartbeat. Do try to hold ztill.” Jack did anything but, knocking the disc of the stethoscope off himself several times and eventually trying the doctor’s patience yet again. Abruptly, he was backhanded.

“I zaid hold ztill!!! I knew more ropes zhould have been applied, zat idiotic nurse! No matter. I vill have a talk viz her once ve are finished here.” A gloved hand gripped violently at Jack’s jaw; squeezing until he thought the joints might pop loose and he whimpered at the newfound pain. “Now, are you going to hold ztill or am I going to have to make you? I am a very buzy man, Mister McLoughlin, and am prepared to take vhatever actions may be necessary to perform zis zurgery. I vill hurt you very badly. Do I make myself clear?”

Cold blue eyes stared into Jack’s teary, frightened ones and he swore it felt like those piercing irises could stab into his brain; down into his very soul. He’d stopped struggling initially due to the pain, but now it felt as if ice had trickled down into his limbs, rendering them immobile. He scarcely breathed as they had their little staredown but then Dr. Schneeplestein’s eyes were narrowing dangerously. ��Mister McLoughlin, I asked you a question.” More pressure was applied to Jack’s already aching jaw and he cried out; fresh tears welling up at the corners of his eyes.

“Ynnf! Ynnf! Ey nndrfnd!” Jack choked desperately around his gag. Finally satisfied, Dr. Schneeplestein’s eyes crinkled again with that invisible smile and he released Jack’s jaw.

“Very good! Now hold ztill.”

Jack’s head fell forward now that there was nothing propping it up and his breath hitched with another sob. His jaw was still aching and it throbbed dully in time with the sharp pangs of his finger now, which had no doubt swelled up like a balloon. Tears dripped steadily from his face as Dr. Schneeplestein felt about various places on his body with the stethoscope. It was like some sick mockery of his power hour video, where he’d played up not knowing where the heartbeat was for laughs. Except unlike Peter, he wasn’t just a piece of plastic.

“Hmm… where iz zat heartbeat…? Let me zee… hmm….”

Jack wanted to snap at the man; ask why he even needed to find Jack’s heartbeat when he was hooked up to a monitor, but the “doctor” was clearly insane. He didn’t need reasons or rationality to fuel his actions. Jack was gagged, anyway, so it all would have come out a garbled mess. Eventually, Dr. Schneeplestein shrugged and tossed the stethoscope carelessly over his shoulder.

“Oh well!! I’m zure it isn’t really all zat important, anyvay. After all, if you’re actually dead, zen zis shouldn’t hurt one bit! Wouldn’t zat be vantastic for you!” Dr. Schneeplestein clapped his hands together and grabbed up the scalpel off the nearby table again. “Now, finally, ve can perform ze zurgery!”

Jack’s fear returned in a white hot spike stabbing down into his gut and he jerked back in his chair, away from the mad doctor. Blue eyes wide with terror, Jack wildly shook his head; muffling nonsense against his gag. What had the guy said? He had “issues with his eye”? Jack didn’t like where that was headed- not if it included the use of a scalpel.

However, Dr. Schneeplestein merely sent him another one of those invisible smiles. “Now, now. Calm down. It’ll all be over zoon if you behave like a good leetle patient for ze nice doctor!” A gloved hand dropped onto Jack’s head, forcing it steady, and the doctor leaned in close with scalpel raised. Jack was shaking terribly from head to toe as he found his right eye staring down a razor sharp blade. He whimpered. “Oh, it’s okay, Zean. Just take deep breaths now and don’t move a muscle, or I might zlip~! And my contractor really vanted to keep zis eyeball of yours intact….”

Jack didn’t dare to move as the scalpel was pressed to the skin just beneath his eye. It wouldn’t get him anywhere now but worse injuries. However, he did shout and plead and beg through the gag in his mouth, praying that something, anything would get through to the doctor and stop this madness. There were still tears streaming down his face as he sniffled pathetically.

His efforts fell on deaf ears. With one hand smoothed over Jack’s temple, pushing his fringe out of the way, Dr. Schneeplestein dragged up Jack’s eyelid with his thumb. His other hand shifted the scalpel upwards, pressing the tip smoothly into the inside corner of Jack’s beautiful blue eye and then sliding it forward. As the blade cut between Jack’s sclera and the muscle he screamed; louder and more ragged than ever before. The pain in his finger was nothing compared to this. He screamed and shook and sobbed hoarsely as Dr. Schneeplestein carved around his eye; blood trickling from the wounds to join his tears. He could hear his heart monitor going absolutely crazy in the background but the doctor ignored it all.

Once an incision had been made around the circumference of Jack’s eye, Dr. Schneeplestein traded his bloody scalpel for one of many pairs of forceps lined up at the edge of the table. Jack swore he was grinning as he raised the little tool to Jack’s still bloody eye; half his vision blurred with tears and severed muscles. “Now zis iz ze fun part!”

The doctor clamped the forceps around the incisions he’d made; locking two rows of tiny, fine-tipped teeth into the muscle of Jack’s eyeball. He gave a blood curdling screech that proceeded to jump and hiccup in pitch as Dr. Schneeplestein went about tugging out his eye. The mad doctor laughed with glee as he gently twisted the forceps and pulled; dragging the eyeball out one centimeter at a time. “Hahaha! It iz like playing tug-of-war viz your brain! Except I am vinning~ Stubborn leetle eyeball, come vith me now, Mister McLoughlin von’t be needing you anymore!” The doctor ripped and twisted and pulled until the eyeball itself was free of Jack’s socket, and only the coil of ocular muscles remained to keep it tethered to his body.

He screamed again, though his voice was beginning to fail him, because he could still partially see out of the dangling eyeball. His vision was skewed between a giddy Dr. Schneeplestein and his own bloodied lap. The doctor hummed contently as he grasped Jack’s eyeball with his own gloved fingers; squishing it gently. “Ah yes, very good, very good. A healthy eyeball! He vill be quite pleased viz ze results, I am zure. Now, we just need to finish removing it….”

Rather than make another quick, clean slice with the scalpel, Dr. Schneeplestein grabbed another set of forceps that resembled a pair of very small scissors. The hinge was extremely close to the point, meaning he could only make tiny snips through the fibers behind Jack’s eye. He shouted and cried with every disconnection until he couldn’t scream anymore, and then he just wheezed out quiet sobs as his bloody eye was dropped into the clear solution Dr. Schneeplestein had poured out earlier. Humming again with satisfaction, the man stood and peeled off his bloodied gloves. He tossed them carelessly onto the table and picked up his clipboard as he rounded behind Jack again.

“Vell, Zean, it zeems ze insurance you have doesn’t cover anesthetic.... My, how unfortunate for you. Zat really does look quite painful.” The doctor chuckled to himself as he scribbled on his clipboard.

Jack hiccuped softly, breath hitching as his now empty eye socket took precedence over his other injuries. Blood was still dripping down one side of his face, while tears continued to leak from the other and his body trembled. The beeping from the monitor had settled some, but was still quite erratic. He sat slumped in his chair, peering up perilously at the doctor as he rounded back to stand in front of him again. The man clicked his pen.

“You zeem to be zuffering from ze shock, Mister McLoughlin. Not to vorry; I am zertain it vill vear off in just a bit. Now be a good boy and keep zat IV in vhile I am avay. It iz essential to your health. Try to get zome rest.” Dr. Schneeplestein placed the pen in his breast pocket and leaned down to pat at Jack’s head one more time. However, instead of immediately pulling away, his blue eyes glinted dangerously and he hooked two fingers over his surgical mask. “Oh, and by ze vay…”

Jack would have screamed again in absolute horror if he could manage to get his voice to work. Instead, he could only jerk back and stare with wide eyes as the doctor tugged his mask down to reveal rows of sharp teeth and an acid green tongue. Red slashes curled a few inches up his cheeks from the corners of his mouth, and split completely when he spoke; making his mouth stretch an inhuman amount to show off even more pointed teeth. The beeping in the background skyrocketed.

“Do tell Anti hello vor me.”

#jacksepticye #dr schneeplestein #antisepticeye #tw eye horror #tw eye trauma #tw blood #tw medical horror #tw medical trauma #tw body horror #look i finally wrote the thing #im actually quite pleased with this one #and eye must scream

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