#nightmare medic

[onlythespiesappearhere]

Does anyone have an art of Nightmare Medic cause I am gonna ship him with UDS. (Unpure Demonic Spy) and I need a reference. Like... A line reference.

[mspaintfreaks]

I crashed my mouse doing this

-🐏

[funky-freak-fortress]

How the freaks would scream (loud)

[elfmoon3]

The Guardian Angel (Freak Fortress story)

Ship: self-insert x tf2 Freak

Summary: Meagan followed a dangerous individual but was saved by a familiar face.

Location: Sawmill

It was a rainy day in Sawmill as Meagan watched the gloomy skies. "I love gray skies like this." She said, her mentor groaning, "Well, oi bloody don't!!" CBS said loudly. "You ain't scared of a little bit of water, are ya maggot?" Painis asked jokingly. CBS glared at the cannibal soldier. "No, oi just don't loike it." CBS answered. Meagan giggles, but then she sees another soldier wandering around. She sees that the two freaks were arguing and leaves to go investigate who this soldier was.

Meagan searches for the soldier and eventually finds him. "Excuse me, but I thought everyone was having a cease-fire day today?" She asked him. The soldier said nothing, taking out a katana, looking at the goth with murderous intentions. Knowing that she didn't bring any weapons, she ran off to get CBS and PC. However, the soldier was right in front of her path as soon as she turned around. "Don't resist. Join us, and you will be spared." He said as a faceless being appeared behind him. Meagan backed up and tried to run, but the soldier grabbed her arm. "HELP!!!" Meagan yelled. As soon as she said that, a familiar voice said,"Bankai!!" as the soldier and faceless being were launched by a blast of air, causing the soldier to let go of Meagan. She looks at where the direction of the air blasts and sees Reaper of the Demon Slayers. "Run sheila, I'll take care of these wankers!!!" He said, Meagan ran to the direction of her friends.

Meagan made it back to see CBS, who ran toward her and held her in a hug. "Oh, thank bloody God, you're ok." He said as he let's go."Why'd you go walking about without us knowing?" He asked, "I saw a soldier and got curious. It turns out it wasn't a normal soldier." She answered."How'd you get away from him?" Painis asked, "Reaper saved me." She said, "The captain of the Demon Slayers?" CBS asked in surprise. And as if on cue, the said Demon Slayer appeared to them in a tired state. Meagan ran to his aid as he collapsed. "Reaper!! Are you ok?" She asked. "Oi'm fine. It's just that Oi'm low on energy." He said,"It seems you've been injured too, mate." CBS said. Meagan then used her healing power on Reaper. His injuries disappeared in seconds. "Thanks, sheila." He said as she helped him up. "How'd you know I was in danger?" She asked, "Well, to be honest, oi was watching over you, making sure you were safe." He said,"Sheesh, stalker much, mate?" CBS said, chuckling. "Oi wasn't stalking her, wanker." Reaper said "I was told to watch and protect her by Erzengel's word." He explained, "Why does he want you to keep me safe, Reaper?" Meagan asked. "Cuz you became a target on Nightmare Medic's hit-list." He answered, "That demon sees you as a threat, Erzengel gave me this task, and oi accept." He said. Meagan smiled. "So you've become my guardian angel?" She asked."Yeah, oi guess you can say that." He said, CBS gagged, "If you two are going to get cozy with each other, don't expect me to hear it!!!"He yelled. Meagan is trying not to laugh and hugs the spiritual Sniper who seems confused. "Wait, what do you mean by cozy?" He asked. Meagan whispered something to Reaper, making him blush. "WHOA, MATE!!! I don't know how that's going to work out." He said, embarrassed. CBS and PC laughed uncontrollably.

Unbeknownst to them, they were being watched from the faceless being and his servant. Behind them was Nightmare Medic, who laughed. "Prepare for your demise, Ms. Walker." He said as he and his new allies vanished.

The End?

[valdevia]

The Cavity Weevil (Curculio dentalis) is a parasite of mammalian teeth.

It drills through the enamel with its long rostrum, depositing eggs in the soft pulp. The larvae eat through the supporting tissues of the tooth, making them rot to leave an opening for the adult to exit.

Their name comes from the belief that these weevils use pre-existing weaknesses, like cavities, to help them break through the enamel. Despite that, C. dentalis have been observed puncturing fully healthy teeth.

Studies have shown their jaws are reinforced with iron and copper, making them into effective drills.

[starry-bi-sky]

do yall ever think about bruce/batman!clone danny standing in front of his bathroom mirror after finding out he was a clone and silently tracing his face. The slope of his jaw and point of his chin. The high angle of his cheekbones and the shape of his eyes, the curve of his brow bones and the shape of his nose. The volume of his hair and the way it curls and gets fluffy when it gets too long.

His hair is black the same way a crow's wing is black. His dad's hair is black the same way a black bear's fur is black. His dad's eyes are blue like the ocean is blue. Danny's eyes are blue the same way a glacier is blue.

His dad has a square jaw and straight flat hair, and he tans and gets a face full of freckles when he's out in the sun for too long. Danny burns like a lobster and his face remains untouched. Danny has a sharp jaw and tall cheekbones, and Sam says when he's not smiling there's almost something regal about him. You would never call Jack Fenton "regal" when he's not smiling.

Sam says when he's not smiling he looks scary the same way a stone statue is. Jack Fenton when he's not smiling looks scary the same way that german shepherd staring at you across the street is.

Do you ever think he grew up wondering if he was adopted. Because of course, he has black hair and blue eyes like his dad. But having the same color doesn't make you someone's child.

Or, worse, things he's heard from the other kids and the other parents and even some of his teachers growing up; that he was the product of an affair. And that his dad was just too stupid to notice. And Danny would defend his parents until the day he died, because Jack Fenton wasn't an idiot and Maddie Fenton wasn't a cheater.

But doubt comes in with fickle tongue. his parents swear up and down that he is their child when he asks about either. That Danny just had his grandparents' features, but he was their son and they loved him.

But Danny doesn't look like either of his parents. His mom's eyes are blue like an aquamarine and Jazz's too. And they burn like lobsters in the sun too, but Jazz gets freckles on her face and so does Maddie. And as Danny grows up he doesn't bulk up or get stocky like his dad did, and when he hits puberty he doesn't shoot up like a tree like Jack Fenton did.

He stays small, and they say he's a late bloomer (and he is), or that he just has his mom's height. But he's fast and has good stamina, and some days it feels like he's built entirely different from his family. That the things they went through growing up just didn't apply to him. Jack and Maddie Fenton both had acne and breakouts when they hit puberty, and Jazz inherits it and he's seen the amount of skincare products she keeps on her side of the bathroom.

And then he hits puberty and breaks out maybe once or twice, but his skin stays clear for the most part and the problems and changes his dad went through just don't happen to him.

And the truth is worse than all of the lies.

How horrifying.

[drawingroomanguish]

shoutout to tumblr for doing its level best to crunch these to hell

outfits from this lineup I did ages ago. This was supposed to be done ages ago but a bunch of work got in the way

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 310

Shadow core Danny? Shadow core Danny with Hazmat AU? Indeed, with a hint of a twist. 

See that hazmat helmet beneath the hood? Yeah that’s erm, that might be his actual face now. It might be able to split open into a proper maw, as he found out during one of the early fights. He thinks it might be a shadow-core thing though, because Fright Knight has something similar, along with the Keeper. Who's apparently a ghost that keeps track of other shadow-ghosts, which, cool. Cool library covered in flesh, nothing spooky there. 

He mentions this? Because apparently even if all ghosts partially feed on emotions, shadow cores need Fear the most. Which, thankfully shadow cores are apparently more rare than he’d expect, so he’s not going to go into a territorial frenzy or something on a bad day, yay! 

But uh, he might… count as a ghostling since he’s only a year dead- in fact he’ll continue to be as such until he’s at least 100 years dead, since he didn’t die as an adult. Which in turn… means he needs even more fear, at least until he’s old enough to generate it on his own. 

So what’s a ghostling to do? Take a trip to one of the most fear-soaked cities in the world, y’know, just a little weekend trip every month. Gotham isn’t that bad, and he can stay invisible- mostly! What’s going to happen, he run into a vigilante? Ha… oh no.

[videoviolence]

THE NURSE WHO LOVED ME.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

*tries to organize my thoughts*

*remembers i'm not in school and therefore beholden to neither heaven nor hell nor any man's grading system*

*joyously shredding & tossing all my carefully arranged 3x5 mental notecards into the air like so much beige confetti. raising my arms in victory, cheering raucously until i accidentally inhale bits of homemade confetti*

(*coughing up itty bits of paper like a cat evicting a hairball with a firm understanding of tenants' rights*) wait wat happens next

[doodlydoodlies]

POV: Medic opens a restaurant

[infamouslydorky]

throws an instant noodle pack your way

eat smrh ans then imagination comes back I prommy

I ate dinner. Also took a shower. I ended up sketching the thin man from Little Nightmares 2 ngl

Unfinished sketch but ya know

[uncanny-tranny]

Medical racism isn't important to address just because it's mean to be racist to patients (I mean, it is mean), but because medical racism kills people. It contributes to systemic suffering of those deemed non-white, and the disinformation that spreads about non-white people.

[astracora]

The Cat Curse - MC Edition

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: Heavy hurt|Some comfort, Semi-canon compliant heart condition, Spoilers for current story release (Small mentions of Sylus bond up to 102 and all of Sylus' currently released content).

Word Count: 4170

Written: 23rd December 2024

Notes: New relationship Sylus/MC-centric but poly LADs (this time with group chat), with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me.

Now Playing: Monster, by STARSET

Masterlist

Next ->

You've been responding to his messages, Sylus notes, but something's off. He's been away on some inane business trip, ever since you, the doctor, the fish, the prince and he had visited a new kitty cafe opening. He rarely gets to see you visibly excited, you are worse at showing your feelings on your face than he is. Whenever you're faced with animals, of any kind, even Mephisto, your eyes sparkle and you could easily spend hours upon hours sat with them. Even more so if they let you pet them.

The first time you'd seen the evol kitties, according to the doctor, you'd been unsure. They didn't look like cats. Something off and a little wrong, but they mewed at you and straight away you'd gently stroked their noses. As if unable to hold back.

Since then you would drag any of them along to play kitty cards. You didn't like the game, had no patience for strategy, but you did like petting the cats. Sitting there between every round, barely looking at the board, and tickling small whiskers. Much to the fish's distress.

While Sylus doesn't really care if he wins or loses around you, he's almost assured a win when playing with you because it's simply not something you care about. Distracted and unbothered by the game. He's only relieved that when he sprouted ears and a tail (of the caracal kind), you had been just as enamoured with those. Finally smothering him in affection in the same way, and being distracted by his tail. Though he'd never confess to competing with cats, at this point it's just an everyday occurrence.

He found he enjoyed playing most with the doctor, unlike when the man played with you, he took no soft approach with Sylus, and it was fun to butt heads with him. Stubborn as they both could be. That left you to lean your head on the fish's lap, the prince asleep against your side already, and play with cats, to a backdrop of 'You're cheating', 'I'm simply better at this than you.', 'If you would stop getting distracted-' that you mostly blocked out.

Rounds later, he paid the bill before anyone else got chance to, and picked up some cakes to take back.

Then he'd had his business trip to attend, having moved things around so on your rare day off, you could see everyone. It was never fun to drop you off, Sylus missed you anytime he could not see you, and though he was prideful, he had been honest about not being able to sleep without the sound of your voice. A confession you'd flushed at and tugged at one of the straps of your prosthetic.

He'd watched you waver over how to respond, biting at your lip, and fidgeting, as you fought against your urge to run away from him.

Trying didn't come easy, you'd told him. Honesty and openness, it got even harder when you'd lost your family, it got easier with every day you were given room to breathe by all of them, and every friend you held dear to your 'broken' heart. He didn't want to dig, or poke at old wounds, not now you were trying to live... but he often saw too much of himself in you.

Whether it was because of the way you'd grown up, or his soul inside of you, it made him even more careful and aware of offering you what you offered him.

"I'll miss you too, Sy. Call me, alright?" Your finally settled on, cool metal hand taking his in yours and squeezing. Before he'd left you, reluctant and complaining, he'd pressed kisses over your face, down your neck, and finally pushed you to the wall of your apartment building, to steal all the air from your lungs. Thigh holding you up, as he tangled his hands in your hair.

When he'd tried to pull away, he couldn't quite, leaning back in once, twice, three times, chasing the warmth of your mouth. Over and over.

You'd laughed, pushing him back to breathe, gasping, "It's a week. We'll be fine for a week."

A week... you aren't possessive enough, he thinks, spinning his pen in his hand. Half listening to Luke and Kieran talk. He feels as though he's emptied and lost, missing parts of what makes him who he is, and your messages feel... the same.

He could be reading into it... you're not exactly one to put your heart on your sleeve, or cling. You're independent because you've had to be, and he still hasn't had enough time to get you to lean all of your weight on him.

So he sends a message into the group chat without you, made in order to plan surprises or outings.

🐦‍⬛: Is everything ok back home?

⛄️: Aren't you busy?

🐦‍⬛: I'm taking a break.

They don't have to know he's tuning out his business partners, hoping they'll talk themselves out so he can leave.

🐠: lucky, some of us have r busy

🐠: [Attached photo]

🐦‍⬛: Please tell me that's not paint on my walnut table.

🐠: won't answer u then

⭐️: looks more colourful now

He rubs the space between his eyes, already dreading returning to the mess, and regretting letting the fish use his space for storing work while his studio is being fumigated. The partners at the table tense at his action, but he doesn't bother sparing them a glance, so they relax and resume talking.

🐦‍⬛: Is anyone going to answer my question?

⛄️: Is there a reason you're asking?

He hesitates, it's just a feeling, if he worries everyone, and it's nothing...

No, he didn't get this far by not trusting his instincts.

🐦‍⬛: Kitten's messages have felt off.

Two exclamation reactions are his instant response, the fish and prince. They start to type, then stop, then start again.

🐠: what way?

⭐️: have U called them?

⛄️: Calm down, they took some time off work because of a cold.

🐠: y didn't anyone tell us?

⛄️: I thought they would have asked Tara to contact you, or contacted you themselves?

🐦‍⬛:  They didn't.

⭐️: ive been on mission for a couple of days, i can stop in tomorrow when its over

He puts his phone down too forcefully and looks at the room. He's... irritated. Not like he normally is when it comes to you, a childish way where he can't have enough as he likes from you. Like you're a toy he cannot stop playing with. He's almost angry, but mostly sad.

He's been patient, surely you can at least talk to him if you feel sick?

Sylus is done with this trip, he's bored of listening to people talk nonsense, and he has no need for anything they have to offer. "We're done here, Luke. Kieran."

Waving his hand absently and ignoring protests behind him, he leaves the room, phone in hand.

🐦‍⬛: I'm coming back now.

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

Jenna had sent you home, it's not the first time she has. You're terrified one day she'll get bored of having to keep track of your health. Or you'll really let her down, and get you... or more importantly someone else, hurt.

It's probably not a normal mindset to worry so much about what your boss thinks, or to fear disappointing them like they're your parent.

It's not like you have parents to know what's that like... but gran's disappointment every time you got into fights growing up... well it was enough.

Caleb used to cover for you, within reason. He lectured you, told you to pull yourself up and figure it out. That fighting every battle against every jerk you met, reckless and stupid, would get you killed. "Come on pipsqueak, use that energy for something better. Something worthwhile."

So many reasons you didn't want to or couldn't, you wanted to tell him... a hand clenched over your chest.

You were so tired of disappointing them both though, so tired of seeing worn eyes tending to cuts and bruises. Bandaging your back, or fixing the set of your arm.

Being a hunter was that answer. If you used what little life you had in you, unsure when your busted up heart would give out finally, then you could greet Caleb and Gran with pride. Your life was a tool, to make others better.

So every day you weren't working, felt like a day you were failing them... failing to be worth anything other than the core in your chest. A vessel with no purpose or value but to hold something you hated. That could kill you.

It wasn't like you could work like this though... you'd laughed at your partners when they'd sprouted ears and tails. Especially Raffy, he'd been so disgruntled at the fate that had befallen him. This was... probably karma. Pointed, soft ears on top of your head, pinned back against your skull. Pristine white, so they at least blended into your hair.

At your back, a bristled tail, huge and furry... already having picked up some dirt to sully what had been pure white.

It hadn't settled since it had appeared, and you wondered what that said about you...

Fucked up mess. Stupid fool. Useless.

Too loud, everything was too loud. You could hear your neighbours through the walls, all the cars below your apartment, every child crying, dog barking, cat mewling.

It hurts.

You covered your ears with your hand, but noise filtered in through the new set you'd acquired.

Hurts.

You'd grown accustomed to the state of your heart. If you don't pay attention you can miss something, and you care now... perhaps you always did, just too raw like an open wound to let yourself.

It's racing and panicked. You don't need your hunter's watch to know it's too fast. 

Burying yourself into your bed, you cover your head with the duvet, grab at your headphones to shove them into your ears, turning them as loud as they can go, and bury your head under the pillows.

Your phone buzzes at your side, and you don't want to touch it. Scared to leave the cocoon you've built for yourself.

You'd begged Tara to tell Zayne you were sick with a cold, that you would be fine soon. She'd given you a heartbroken look that had made you bristle further, pity. Always pity.

You didn't want pity.

Before your fraying emotions could get the best of you, you'd fled the hunters association, hood up over your head and run home.

You can feel your tail trembling, struggling to swish under the blanket as you struggle to calm down, to at least get some sleep.

Maybe if you sleep it will go away.

Maybe when you wake up you'll feel better.

Useful.

Worth having around.

Not on the cusp of disappearing with nothing to show for yourself.

-----

When you'd woken up, tail still bristled, and newly acquired fangs digging into your bottom lip. Blood staining the bedsheet, you'd finally fished your phone out from your nest.

3am.

The world was quieter for it, and you wondered if this was part of why Sylus preferred the night to day.

You didn't remove your headphones, but you did finally open up your messaging app, seeing messages from everyone.

TaraTara💖: I hope you're ok bestie, if you need anything let me know.

Number One Lumiere Fan: Tara said you were sick, if you have time, I have a few shows you could watch to waste time. Only one is about Lumiere! Promise!

Simone (the one whose guns explode): Hey! Tara said you weren't doing so hot, if you want some company for a movie night, I make the best soup you'll ever have!

Captain: Remember to actually get some rest, take advantage of the break, alright? Everything will be fine here.

🐠cute fishie 🐠: hey cutie, wat do u think?

🐠cute fishie🐠: [Attached Image]

⭐️little star⭐️: missions going well, how are U?

⛄️sweet snowman⛄️: Tara said you're sick, I'll come over to check on you as soon as I can. Make sure you eat and drink.

🐦‍⬛pretty bird🐦‍⬛: Meetings are always more boring without you kitten, I hope you're missing me as much.

Your tail settles, curling against your side, fur flattening and you try really hard not to cry. You wish you'd thanked Tara when you left instead of fleeing, overstimulated and hurting.

Wounded like the cat you're teasingly referred to as. Feral and ready to hiss and scratch. You've spent so many years shutting people out.

Shutting Gran and Caleb out.

Shutting them out you wasted so much time until it was too late.

Why can't you learn?

You force yourself to respond, trying to sound as much yourself as you can... it's unnerving, to wear a mask over a mask. You wonder if you'll ever recognise your reflection.

You hesitate as you go to respond to your partners. You should tell them, reaching up to roughly pull the ears on your head. They'd understand, they've been where you are. Your brain says you should go to the kitty cafe, find out how to fix it this time around... but being out there, in the noise...

Instead you send some version of you're fine, and things are fine, everything is good. You're good.

You're together. You're useful. You're not a burden.

You aren't fragile and sick and useless.

You are worth keeping around, even when your heart picks up speed again, beating so hard against your chest that you fear the core wants to escape its fleshy vessel.

The straps attaching your prosthetic are digging into your skin, rubbing it raw, but you ache to even try to remove it. Fighting with the buckles and biting at the bit. You're still in your uniform, and you're sure by now you need a shower. The idea of water shooting a shot of anxiety straight into your chest, flaring up your tail, and your ears flatten as far as they can.

No water...

Maybe later.

Or you can really fill out how shit you feel with a wet wipe bath.

Caleb would kill you.

You don't want to think about it anymore. You want to let the quiet take over, or reasonably so with the screamo in your ears. Blasting the noise outside into nothing.

So you go back to sleep. Easing the pain in your heart with the only sure fire way.

---------

You can't breathe. You can't breathe.

Bolt upright in bed, hissing through your teeth, chest so tight you can feel your ribs.

You flounder, pulling at where your straps should be, but they're gone, no leather under your fingers. So you move to claw at your chest with one hand, gasping.

Hands grab you, and you struggle and you fight and you hiss. Fangs out, feral and ready to claw your way free. Arms far stronger than you pull you against a warm chest, tilt your head back and pills are placed in your mouth. You try to spit them out but a hand is on your throat, rubbing at your larynx. You swallow and then water follows it.

You splutter and cough, and you wriggle and struggle. Your head is pressed against skin, and you sink your fangs in.

Out. Out. Out.

"It's alright, you're alright, I'm here."

Blood fills your mouth and his scent surrounds you and you shiver. Blinking as your heart medication begins to do its job, easing the fractured organ in your chest. You spit, trying to clear your mouth of the taste of metal, shivering and shaking but your chest isn't constricting you now.

"Sy-" You cry outloud, he holds you, not bothered by the blood tricking down his shoulder. Of course he isn't, he heals it, the pain nothing in comparison to watching you choke on air you can't breathe. "Sorry. Sorry." You mumble against his skin, licking where you bit, crying and shaking. Wrapping your arm around his neck.

He assures you, and he rocks you both in his arms, rubbing your back and running a hand through your hair. Careful around your ears, not going far enough down to touch your bristled tail.

He hums and he rocks, and he squeezes you tight enough to ground you.

It's an hour or two later when you can finally feel any semblance of stable. You can't bring yourself to look at Sylus, he's stroking your cheek and wiping tears from your face, and all you can do is stare at the bed. You can't think of what to say.

You didn't take your medication, you hurt him... it's not the first time, but when this happened with Caleb you didn't have a cats' fangs.

Between you opening up and me prying, I prefer the former. He'd told you, after a terrible day, listing every way he would support you.

With all your sharp edge, you place your hand over his on your cheek, "I'm sorry, Sy."

He huffs, turning you in his arms so you're facing each other, but his one hand grips your hip, sturdy. Solid, strong. He doesn't hurt, but escaping would be hard. You try hard not to.

Though you can feel the... your tail swishing.

He looks at it, at your ears, then at you, red nosed and disheveled.

"Explain."

It's a command, brooking little argument, and though normally you'd refuse to take orders, you duck your head now. Avoiding molten eyes and seeking out something to focus on. The hand that was on your head, stretches out in between you both, palm up, and you take it quickly. Toying with his fingers, squeezing it in your own. Finding connection in your hand on his.

"Jenna sent me home, my evol doesn't work, I can't fight. I... it hurt. Everything's so loud."

You can't see it as he frowns, as your ears prick, then settle, seeking out all the things that hurt them. "I went to sleep, thought it would make this go away, but it didn't."

"Why didn't you tell me?" You hear it then, the pain, like he's biting down on glass. Your eyes dart up and his eyes are glassy, warm red gone dull. "You left your prosthetic on. It was rubbing your skin raw at the angle you were sleeping. There was blood on your sheets." He presses his forehead to yours and breathes you in, "Then this. Why didn't you tell me?" His voice cracks, and you want to be sick.

You twine your fingers with his and choke on the words, "I didn't want to be a bother."

He hisses, his grip on your hand almost hurts, but you probably deserve so much worse. You lied to him, to them, and you hurt him. More than just biting at him.

"You need to tell me. No matter what. No matter what I'm doing, beloved. No matter the issue." He kisses your forehead, over and over and over again. "Promise me."

You nod, and curl your pinky around his, just like you used to with Caleb when he made you promise to come to him with an injury. The words are too stuck in your throat, your voice too sore to use, but you nod. Desperately.

"You're not a burden to be carried, kitten. Ever. Do you understand?"

You don't. You want to, but it's hard. There is no part of you that feels easy or fun, but you do love him. So much. More than you thought yourself capable of. More than you wanted, on borrowed time.

"I'll try." You promise, and it feels like you've cycled back around to the start. Promising to figure things out at home, promising to aim for something. A future you're not sure you're going to ever see.

He takes it in earnest, you do not go back on your word. You are loyal and once you trust, you trust with your heart and your soul. It is yourself you do not trust.

Instead he eases you back into his lap and stands, you flinch and release his hand to grab his neck with your hand. "You need to be cleaned up, I'll help." You go to tell him no because it's water, and you're more a cat than even he teases you for, but you have your head in his neck at this angle, and his scent is so strong. Your tail flattens and begins to flick, lazy and soothed. You hear him chuckle, vibrating through his chest and through yours. "I'm not going anywhere."

-----------

Sylus eases you through steps. He's seen you injured, he's seen you with phantom pains, and he's watched you battle nightmares. Wanderers with swords through your chest, your heart stopping, an explosion you can't stop. He knows what you look like when wounded, he also knows that you fear his reaction when you are.

It takes time to heal wounds, he knows that intimately. You'd never shed your rage or anger, not really. When someone has made mention of gods you'd scoffed, when someone has talked about EVER and their many plans to help humanity, you'd snarled. You trust no king, no god, no corporation to fix the world or the people in it. He knows you're always scared but you keep walking forwards anyway, and he admires and loves you for it.

He just wishes you'd take his hand when that happens.

He has not felt fear like seeing your heart failing you in his arms before, and no matter the violence of your struggle, he would let you rip him to pieces to survive.

He has so much time, and his greatest fear is losing you too soon.

He cleans, and he dries, brushing hair and rubbing lotion to ease the burns on your skin. He helps you dress, finding clothes that don't irritate your tail, because at least he is intimately familiar with that, and then he sits you down on the couch with vegetable soup. Not handmade, though he'd rather have done so. He doesn't want to leave you alone, so he orders what he needs. Sending the twins running around. He's sure you'd like to see them, but he's worried their exuberance will agitate the overstimulation you're combatting.

Watching your ears flick this way and that, picking up too much. As though you don't already struggle with the world's input.

He almost feeds you, wanting to heal you with his own hands, like he's anything like the doctor... he's not. His skills are in bloodshed, and he is as sharp edged as you are.

Except you have made yourself a weapon, to be worth the pain, and he was made a weapon, to survive the pain.

He does not move far away, however, kneeling at your feet, and massaging your calves while you eat. You try to pull your legs away, but he keeps them held, and continues his movements. You have soothed his body before, stitched his wounds, kissed where his scars would be, and he will not have you lacking his own love and affection.

A dragon does not love lightly. Though you don't remember the depths he has gone to for you. This is an easy act of devotion.

"You need to tell them too." He finally speaks, as you clear your bowl. He's relieved to see your ears are no longer flat, your tail is not bristled, you are as relaxed as you can be. You nod, guilt written in your face, and he retrieves your phone for you on black and red mist.

Sitting at your side, he grabs your brush and begins to brush your tail. You almost leap into the air, startled and dropping your phone onto the couch cushions. "Sy!"

"Cat fur can get tangled, especially long fur." He smirks, pulling you closer, and brushing through it with long fingers, "So let me take care of it."

You flinch at the contact, stare at where his hand is in the new found attachment, then keeping your eyes trained on your phone, you nod.

He's content to let you write out what you need to, to be honest with the others, he doesn't want to have that job. It's your mission to step out of your self made cage. So he brushes quietly, the twitching tail in his hands restless, but soon as soft as you can be in your relaxed moments.

Your head hits his shoulder, ears twitching in sleep as all the pent up energy and stress escapes you. Held in long white furs in a small brush. You mutter in your sleep, words he can't understand, and whistle through your nose, little noises that make him laugh.

The best, however, is the purring in the back of your throat, broken up by sleep, and the tail that has found its way around his wrist.

He does not move you, but he retrieves a blanket and holds you against him, cheek pressed to the top of your head, against your fur ears, and keeps watch while you finally find some peace.

⛄️: Are they alright?

🐦‍⬛: They will be.

[bear-boi-5]

:3

Something fun I thought to do :>

I couldn't find a version without the collection of TikTok watermarks in the corner so apologies about that

Uhhh New Year's drawing coming soon, idk if I'll get it done tonight but I'll try :]

Original image, made by @ /_ksgi (unknown what platform it comes from)

[truths33k3r4]

(Warnings for this chapter are at the bottom of the page to keep from giving away spoilers.)

CHAPTER 9 - Dreams of the Haunted

Raphael watched as Lotus finally stilled in Leo’s arms, her stuttered breaths and sniffles slowly descending into silence. Her panicked words twisted and pulled at his mind, deepening his growing concern for her. Frustration began building in his heart as he watched someone so frail and scared fight a horrific, inner battle.

And all he could do was watch.

It brought him no comfort that he was the one that possibly sparked such awful memories in the frightened girl. How she looked at him… It was as if he was the ghost inhabiting all of her nightmares. As if it were him that caused her to flail out of bed in sporadic jolts, wearing beads of sweat on her trembling brow.

 The familiar, sticky tentacles of guilt quickly slithered around his heart, constricting the limited air in his lungs, and filling his mind with useless reprimands.

You shoulda just left her to Leo.

It’s your fault she’s afraid all the time.

She’s scared of you.

Raph shook his head in an attempt to focus back to the matter at hand.

The “matter” that now laid limp in his oldest brother’s arms, softly sighing and nestling into his plastron. The fiery brother watched in silent adoration as Leo stroked the young girl’s shell, successfully calming her enough to make her fall back to sleep. Raph remembered seeing Leo do the same calming motion when they were kids, using it to settle a frightened youngest brother surrounded by darkness, or steady a stressed nerd with too much homework, or simmer down a heated temper with nowhere to go but out.

Raph had used it once or twice as well. The faint memory passed through his mind like a soft breeze as he remembered Leo’s shuttering body hidden fully in his shell after another nightmare. However awkward that night had begun, Raph still recalled it with a warm endearment, remembering all of his brothers combining forces to bring comfort to their newly titled “leader”. Yeah, it was cramped and full of mushy feelings and tears; Three things Raph himself normally hated more than Math homework, but it was all worth it to be there for Leo. 

It was all worth it to bring comfort to their comforter.

As Lotus let out one final, heavy exhale, Leo skillfully weaved out of her embrace, laying her down gently onto the pillow and carefully draping the blanket over her. She didn’t stir the slightest, seemingly sinking deeper and deeper into the cushion of the mattress and the grounding weight of the blanket. Leo sighed as he looked down at her, his shoulders and body falling as if another weight had landed atop them. Tenderly, he reached out and wiped away the last of her tears speckling her cheeks. 

And he wonders why he was the best pick for Team Medic. Stinkin’ show off.

As Leo pushed himself off the floor with a winced grunt, he patted the dirt and grime off his knees and legs. Raph’s eyes involuntarily widened at the dark patches of dirt littering his oldest brother’s body. Normally the brothers kept their room a bit more tidy than that, but…

…a lot had happened. And some things carried more priority than household chores. 

“Raph, come on!” Leo shout-whispered, knocking the fiery brother’s train of thought clean off its tracks. “She’s asleep. Let’s go.” 

Raph gave a slight nod and followed his brother into the hallway, the two siblings being as silent and swift as wind sweeping across snow.

 They walked side by side in the hall, remaining quiet even after they were far past the brothers’ bedroom. Raph couldn’t help but subtly peer his eyes across to Leo, gauging what was going through the leader’s head. It wasn’t abnormal for the eldest to go silent, far from it in fact. Especially after something big happening, Leo would normally not speak as he contemplated the next best course of action. This had actually formed into a problem when they were younger, with Raph and Don’s impatience being stretched to their limits as they had to just wait for their leader to find a solution without a single conversation being had. That had sparked many unneeded forest fires of fury between the twins and their leader. 

Raph couldn’t help but snicker to himself as he remembered how ticked off Don had gotten, spouting off facts and insults in tandem when he wasn’t kept in the know-how. 

“Raph- What was that?” Leo asked suspiciously as he turned his gaze towards the fiery brother. “... Why… are you laughing??” He asked with a slight tint of incredulous confusion in his tone.

With Leo’s frosty irises now locked onto him, Raph found it a little hard to open his mouth and make words come out. 

“Uh… I was…”

Just speak, it ain’t that hard!!

“...Um…”

Leo’s Mom Glare™ suddenly shot up to a “should I be worried??” expression.

JUST. FRIGGIN. TALK.

Raph forcefully rolled his shoulders to release some of the energy building in his body.

“Heheh I was… rememberin’ how ticked off Don got when you went quiet on our missions. You remember the crazy insults he called you?”

Leo’s interrogative gaze flickered and dissipated as he turned his face to the ceiling and sighed with a smile.

“Ahhh yes…” The eldest huffed as his grin grew in nostalgic amusement. “Dad caught him swearing so many times so he just decided to make up new insults…Ah man, which one had you and me cracking up that one time?”

“Ooof, dude. How could ya pick? There’s too many good ones HA!”

“... Was it “Lint Licker”? Or maybe “Shiitake Mushroom head”, HAHA!!!”

Hearing the past substituted insults ignited a warm, soothing flame to ignite in Raph’s heart, leaving him clutching his stomach with how hard he was now laughing alongside his brother.

“WAIT WAIT- HAHAHEEE- Do you remember the time he called you a “Mother Clucker”?! BROOO I couldn’t even breathe I was laughin’ so hard!!!”

“OH DANG- HAHA!!! I can’t believe I forgot that one!!!” Leo was now clutching at his side too, leaning his shell against the wall of the hallway for support as he cackled and sniffed away tears from his eyes. “Don was so mad his face was as red as your mask!!!”

Now Raph could barely breathe with how hard he was laughing.

“Heee… He just sat there- HAHA- With his arms crossed holdin’ his breath- HAHAHA!!! You were afraid he was gonna pass out!!”

“He almost did!!! You had to catch him!!!” Leo’s voice cracked and broke with the laughter erupting out of his throat. Without meaning to, some of his words shot to an extremely high pitch, only worsening Raph’s guffaws to the point where he collapsed to the floor, splayed out and pressing down onto his torso.

There the two brothers were, one propped against a wall, the other laying flat on the ground, laughing.

Despite all that they had been through.

Here they were.

Laughing.

As their chuckles petered out to sniffs and snickers, Leo pushed himself off the wall and walked up to Raph’s prone body. The eldest reached out his hand with a big, real smile gracing every inch of his face. Raph couldn’t help but return Leo’s kindness with his own grin, gratefully accepting his big brother’s hand and allowing himself to be helped off the floor.

“Come on…” Leo laughed again, gasping for air, “Let’s go check on the Clean Up Crew.”

Raph nodded with a knowing smile as the two continued down to the living room.

“MIKEY!!! DON!!” Raph called out with his hand cupping the side of his face. “WHERE YOU GUYS AT??” 

After being answered with silence, Leo and Raph ventured into the kitchen. Walking past the doorway, the first thing Raph noticed was the “used” trash bin propped near the sink. The second thing he noticed, or rather was SMACKED ACROSS THE FACE WITH, was the pungent smell of lavender fumes filling up the entire room. Both his and Leo’s eyes immediately sprung up with more tears as they began to flap their arms to wave out some of the potent aroma. It didn’t do much, and unfortunately, living in the sewers, there were no windows to open and let out the powerful scent. So they just stood there for a bit, waving their arms, until finally both of them gave up in between hacks and coughs and simply retreated to the couch instead.

Comparatively, hacking and choking on fumes was apparently a much more effective way to beckon for their little brother instead of just casually calling to him. 

“What the shell happened to you guys??” Mikey yelled as he ran through the lair’s entrance into the living room. He was out of breath and wearing far-too-big gloves on his hands.

“Us?? *COUGH COUGH*- What- a-about you?? WHY were you *HACK* up top?!” Leo sputtered indignantly as he turned his head to look at his thirteen year old brother that was apparently alone in the big, scary world that towered above them.

Raph chuckled as he watched Mikey roll his eyes and tsk at the eldest’s obvious concern.

“Leooo I’m fineeee. I literally just took out the trash, CHILL.” Mikey grumbled as he pulled off the oversized gloves from his fingers.

“I will NOT CHILL.” Leo retorted right back, now wearing his patented Mom Glare™ and speaking as if he were Mikey’s parent rather than his oldest sibling, “You, young mutant, are thirteen. You aren’t allowed up top by yourself, you know that.”

“Yeah~ I’m fully aware, Mom-o-nardo. But Don was busy trying to hold in his lunch, so I took care of it.” Mikey sluggishly declared, his words dripping with nonconchalance. “You’re welcome~.” He flicked his hands with the dramatic flair of a magician, tossing the gloves onto a nearby side table, effectively making them ‘disappear’ from his person. 

Raph let out a silent “Ooooh~” as he turned to see how Leo would react. And as always, the eldest did not disappoint.

“Do I need to tell Master Splinter of your little solo errand?” Leo asked in a tone that was as cold and sharp as an icicle’s tip. 

The youngest’s face fell immediately as Leo played his highest card:

“I’M GONNA TELL DAD.”

Classic oldest sib move, Raph thought to himself. Game set match.

With an offended pout only a youngest sibling could pull off, Mikey growled and stomped his way into the kitchen.

 He quickly regretted his decision.

Raph and Leo couldn’t help the satisfied grins crawling up their faces as they heard Mikey begin to cough violently, clapping his hands over his snout and hightailing it back into the living room. He unceremoniously crumpled to the floor in a hacking heap.

Raph leaned further into the couch cushions and rested his head over his crossed arms, while he watched his little brother writhe dramatically on the floor. With a quick glance, he saw that Leo was subtly checking if Mikey was actually okay or if he was just being dramatic. He obviously came to the same conclusion Raph did as the two oldest siblings sat back and watched, the smiles on their faces never leaving for a second.

“Yeah… seems Don did one shell of a job “decontaminating” the trash bin, huh lil bro?”

Mikey’s head lifted from the ground long enough for him to spit out, “I BET ASTRONAUTS COULD SMELL THAT.”

Leo shook his head as he rolled his eyes, allowing a faint smile to grow on his face. Raph couldn’t help but ask himself how long it had been since so much laughter and smiles had graced the rooms of his home. 

In order to keep the bright composure he was carrying on his face, he pushed aside that thought and just sat as he watched his brothers just be kids again.

. . .

Images flashed past Raphael’s eyes as his body was forcefully shoved through a long, grey hallway. Echoes of horrified and pained screams blared into his skull. Shadows peeled from the walls and engulfed him, slithering their arms into tight bands around his biceps and ankles. Despite the fear penetrating every cell of his body, his mind remained completely hollow, as if he didn’t carry enough strength to create a simple thought. 

The only voice that could be heard in his mind wasn’t his own.

It promised safety and warmth; an easy way out of this trap. Its gravely whispers poked and scratched inside his head, trying to tangle and pull apart any chords of willpower he had left. He could sense the bristling flame of his determination and spirit continue to flicker into nothing. With each seductive, hushed word, a vital part of his identity was extinguished, replaced with an empty husk of compliance.

He wanted to scream, to run, to fight. He longed to beat the shell out of the siren that continued to whisper and enchant his body to bend to its will. 

His mouth stayed shut. 

His legs remained still.

His hands hung limp at his sides, bristling the tipped edges of his sais.

Now watching as if a spectator in his own body, Raph’s legs began to move. They pressed forward with an unnatural uniformity, pulling him closer to a pair of doors leading into a frighteningly familiar room. Raph watched as a pair of crimson-tipped fingers unlocked the door, beckoning him to continue on his way inside. No matter how much Raph’s spirit bit and snarled and yanked, his body complied with the voice’s wishes.

His form climbed into a cushioned chair surrounded by heavy machinery littering every surface. The haunting shine of scalpels and saws glistened on trays set up near his head. His wrists and ankles were slid into metal cuffs as his body unnaturally relaxed into the reclining chair. Lights began flashing as the machinery around him began to glow in a sickly neon green.

“LET ME GO!!!”

Raph’s spirit froze at the sound of the new voice screeching at the doorway. It was a voice he could never forget; A voice of someone who drove him crazy, and pushed him to always do his best in everything he ever did. A scratchy tone that would sometimes pop into a high-pitched crack, leaving him dying laughing on the floor and dodging random office supplies being hurled at him.

His best friend.

“I SAID LET ME GO!!! WHERE’S MY BROTHER?” Don snarled as he was dragged into the room by two hulking jerks, twisting and yanking at the freckled mutant’s chains. He winced as they threw him into the similar chair positioned beside Raph.

NO!! PLEASE NO!!!

Raph’s pleads and screams never left his body’s lips. He could only watch as his twin was forced down into the chair, the two men not being gentle in the slightest as they tugged Don’s limbs through the cuffs with a loud *CLANG*.

“RAPH!!” Don yelled to the hollow husk of his twin in both concern and relief at the same time,”RAPH WAKE UP!! WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE!!!”

The fiery brother couldn’t look away as Don’s face fell when his twin didn’t even acknowledge his existence, nevermind his words.

“...R-Raph?... What did they do to you?!- WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM!!!” Don ignited in a furious explosion of raw, protective instincts as masked doctors began filling the room.

Even with Don’s kicking and screaming, clawing and biting, and choice vocabulary that would send his father into a coma, the doctors still swiftly worked around him, preparing the machine that menacingly hovered above the two twins. Nurses began attaching small, metal nodes onto the sides of the brothers’ temples; Don’s on the left, and Raph’s on the right. The freckled brother didn’t stop squirming and fighting for one second, using all his energy to somehow escape his binds. But Raph remained still, his mind fully possessed by the siren that dwelled inside.

With a small *click* the machine began to operate. Raph watched as his twin began to scream, not in protest, but in pain. His body twisted and jolted as if he were being impaled by a lightning bolt. 

NO! 

Raphael’s spirit began to burn. 

NO…

His anger blazed in an uncontrollable pyre.

I… WILL NOT… 

His body’s hand twitched.

..LET…

His placid face began to sneer and snarl.

YOU…

His eyes burst open.

HURT HIM!!!!!

His spirit lunged through its prison, disintegrating the coils of control the siren once possessed. The chords of his identity and soul found their purchase in the core of his mind, planting themselves deeply, and never allowing such intrusion again. With the fury of a lion and the love of a protector he screamed,

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

Electricity sparked and stuttered through him in an instant, coursing through every muscle and fiber. It pulled his limbs taut, causing a deep ache to ignite in his bones. His skull rang with loud static, and his body twitched uncontrollably.

His body.

He fought against his binds, shattering the metal into pieces.

The lights on the machine flashed and popped, spraying the surrounding doctors with shards of glass. The panels of the contraption began to shake, as the device rapidly began to overload. 

The room was swallowed by the following explosion, bathed in an iridescent, blinding white.

Raphael and Donatello gasped simultaneously as they shot up, flinging their blankets off their chests.

Sweat beads trickled down Raph’s face as he shuddered and snatched onto his blanket. His fingers pressed deeply into the fibers, cushioning his nails instead of allowing them to penetrate skin. The thick, warm feel of the fabric pulled him back from fantasy, and planted him firmly in reality.

I’m home…

I’m safe…

I’m okay…

He chanted these words over and over in his mind until a cool, slurring voice broke his concentration.

“Raph?... You a’right, man?” Leo groggily whispered from his place on the spare mattress in the middle of the room. In the darkness the eldest’s frosty irises glowed as they locked onto Raph. 

Before the fiery brother could turn away from his sibling’s concerned gaze, Leo was already pulling away his sheets and blanket, tidily folding them over the edge of his bed, before silently crossing the room to Raph’s bedside.

CRUD CRUD CRUD-

NO- SHOO- GO AWAY- NOT NOW-

Raph immediately turned over, flopping to face the wall of his nook away from Leo.

“-I-I’m fine, Leo. Go back ta bed.” He subtly hissed through his fangs, hoping and praying that he was not about to get a big ol’ talk about feelings from the oldest. 

“Yeahhh, I’m not gonna buy that.” Leo yawned as he sat down on the floor beside Raph’s mattress. “A fighter you are. An actor you’re not. Now what’s going on?”

“I said I’m fine.” Raph curtly mumbled into his blanket.

“Still don’t believe you, try again.” Leo sighed as he rubbed at his eyes.

“I SAID I’M FINE.” Raph finally snapped a little too loudly, twisting his body to face his oldest brother. 

Leo winced at the volume of his brother’s expected outburst, then simply shook his head with an unimpressed frown. But before he could say another word, his expression changed as he noticed something about his fiery brother’s face. His mouth parted minisculely as he reached out his hand. 

Raph’s temper and pride demanded he swat it away, but his curiosity and love for his brother won out against his stubbornness. He remained still as Leo’s hand softly landed on the side of Raphael’s face, rubbing something wet off it.

Oh crap I’m crying.

DANG IT NOW HE’S NEVER GONNA LEAVE…

The concern over Leo’s face softened slightly, as he asked again, in a firmer “I am the oldest but I’m also your leader” tone, 

“What’s going on?”

Once again, Raph was completely trapped. Not by a psycho scientist, or by some evil, government organization, but by his perfectionistic, calm, and deeply concerned oldest brother.

There was no way he was going to get out of this one…

And that's it for this chapter! :) You all have been begging to see more of what happened to Don and Raph at the labs, so I present to you a nightmare~. This chapter was certainly tricky to figure out at first- with so many different scenes compiled together, it was hard to keep a steady flow for my reader, but I'm really happy with how it turned out! :) AAAAnd yes, I did say that I would only draw one panel for each chapter, but I COULDN'T HELP ITTTTTT!!!

Feel free to reblog and share this!

BIG THANK YOU to @poetique823 for helping me and encouraging me through this chapter!

@writer-in-wonder, @allyheart707, @oddartistl3, @risebabyx2, @joyjoygorl, @carrots-bear, @howtotrainyourdragonprince, @jasminegazer, @indieyuugure

If you want to be tagged in the next chapter, please comment down below! :)

To God be the glory!

~ Melissa

(CW- Nightmares, past medical trauma, being held down, and mind control!!)

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