#nightmdic

[infiniitefrequency]

@nightmdic started following you

Bill stumbled into the office, blood dripping from his nose, unsteady on his feet. There were several small incisions, jagged across parts of exposed skin.

"I need a disgusting growth removed! Stat!"

[exigencism]

@nightmdic --> ❛  sneaky .   to  sneak  away  from  a  gathering  to  have  sex  with  my  muse . (for curtis!)

GRINNING FROM ear to ear ( lightly dusted in pink ), like a schoolboy having found his father's magazine collection. Only a week off to enjoy themselves, and they're stuck at some dinner party kissing the asses of some higher-ups when they'd rather do anything else. Just when he'd thought this couldn't get any more mind-numbing ( seriously, why'd he study physics just to get stuck in a war ), he couldn't help but notice her taking hold of his arm.

❛  i  can’t  wait  any  longer .  ❜

He knows already. His comrade is probably turning to mouth there goes golden boy again to his bunk mate, but Curt hardly cares. She walks past, and after a few more moments, Curt inconspicuously follows. It doesn't take them very long to get outside in the backyard, where the company is sparse and the music is muffled. Just him, and her, and the night sky. So few are their chances to find beauty in chaos; Marie is the rainbow appearing in the rain, the fractals of light from a disco ball.

Golden boy has a well-disciplined trigger finger, tracing its way down to her waistband as their lips meet endlessly. They can return to the flames, and the screaming, and the danger, later; right now, he wants nothing more than to stop time and get lost in her, his hard-on grinding up against her leg and his foot nudging hers to get farther apart.

[clochanam]

faith is a powerful thing. deadly in the wrong hands, as thanos just demonstrated. those who followed him blindly, believing he knew the way forward. his hands grasping blindly at power he could scarcely fathom. she remembers it so clearly. the look in his eyes as he disappeared through the portal, leaving her on the cliff's edge, too weak and wounded to move. he looked broken. gamora... she hadn't been anticipated. and still, faith cajoled him into doing what never needed to be done. she wonders now, if that comforts him. the misguided belief that he did the right thing.

but once he was gone, and once she realized how bad her situation was, the strangest and most remarkable thing happened. as she curled into the fetal position, blood pooling on the plateau, she heard it. her voice, soft, firm, urgent yet steady. marie. take off your scarf, aisling. now. and as soon as she'd dragged the limp length of wool from her neck: press it against the wound. hard, now. you need to apply pressure. and she did; with shaking, weakened hands, she pressed it against the wound, sparks flying in her peripherals as the pain expanded and consumed her. but marie never left. as she struggled to catch her breath, crying against the cool rock, she felt it then. the prickling across her skin, the quaking of the soil, the screams of the universe. it was a decision made instantly. i'll take it. take the pain, the suffering. let me have it. let it be mine, so they don't have to feel it. and marie's vision smiled sadly. a thing of such unfathomable beauty, that it caught her mind as aisling collapsed beneath the agony of half a universe.

now, she's back in new york. two hours ago, she'd been found by several very frightened, very concerned neighbours, cosmic light fading in her eyes. the wound was healed. the impact zone of her landing had caused a small crater in the street. and when she lifted a hand, calling on that impossible power once more, wisps of fiery light gathered in her hands, lacing up her fingers. the people tried to talk to her. but she was already gone. sprinting down the street, gathering speed until she arrived at the clinic, heart pounding, body trembling as she searched through every room until she reached the office, and--

" marie?! marie! oh-- " it hits now. a truck full of cement, right in the chest, knocking the wind right out of her. there she is. her savior. the only light she'll ever chase at the end of it all. the one voice that saves and saves and saves again. is it any wonder it was her aisling saw on that fucking cliff? could there have been any other soul strong enough to reach across the universe? and against all odds, she's alive. she's here! she's right here, and with her is the same air of calm, solid assurance that only truly excellent doctors can provide. that there's hope. a chance. that, despite the devastation, despite how bleak things may seem... they might just be okay.

she's stumbled across the office, and gathered marie into a tight, grateful, agonized, devastated embrace that grants her a moment to hide. to bury her face in her shoulder, and let the tears sink into the white lapels of her coat. " are you hurt? my love, i'm... please tell me you're not wounded? "

@nightmdic liked this post for a post-snap starter!

[bailesona]

he wants to make something clear. none of what's about to happen is to be deduced as the result of a lack of trust in his mom. he has no shortage of faith nor love for aisling. but despite the solidity of their bonds, he isn't blind. tim's been watching her for a while now. the tension in her jaw whenever she gets a phone call from an unknown number. the way her face pales whenever there's a knock on the door. when that man, xavier, came to the diner with his work associates... it's rare that he ever sees fear or anger in her face. such words don't come easily to any kind of relation with his mother. but that day? she looked terrified and enraged in equal measure.

she tries to separate it from them. but he and his siblings ignore such attempts. and while they know very little... he knows that her plate is overflowing as it is. no sense in adding more to it. and yes, there's a risk here. he knows, even if they don't, that aisling has fallen for marie. whenever the late nights get later, aisling's heading out like clockwork to bring her home. one time, after a rough encounter with a distressed patient, aisling spent three hours brainstorming a solution with the others to help @nightmdic stay safe. but marie is also the kind of steady badass that values her role. she helps people. no matter what. who else could be trusted more with this?

" doctor mcashten? " he hesitates. but only for a moment. a small pause, a brief, watery smile, and he continues. " is now a bad time? i... i kinda need some medical advice. a-and maybe it's nothing, but... i've been getting these headaches? i wear contacts, i drink plenty of water... i know you're not working right now, but maybe if i could make an appointment? off the books, i don't... want mom to worry about it. "

STARTER CALL HERE!

[snkts]

" i'm fine, just. . . give me a minute. "

She's a doctor. Logan knows that. And while he's never needed medical care, based on what he is, he knows enough to know she's a damn good doctor.

And good doctors never wanted to admit when they needed help.

"Can it." He grunts, reaching down to lift her off her feet. "That's clearly sprained, or worse. You shouldn't be walking on it, let alone running. And we don't have time to wait." He glances over his shoulder with a frustrated growl. "So worry about your pride later!"

And he's running.

[supesage]

HOMELANDER SHOULDN'T HAVE BROUGHT HER HERE, it was a shit move, even with her brain leaking out of a bullet wound in her temple Sage knows that much, her mouth just can't work to form the words. the concept locked behind forty-eight ounces of grey matter turned to sludge.

> who the hell are you ? @nightmdic

Any questions the doctor asks are left unanswered for approximately twenty-eight minutes while her brain puts itself back together inside her skull. John doing a majority of the answering, half ass-ed attempts to clarify the situation without giving the whole truth, without revealing the plan, and without an ounce of respect shown to the moan wiping the blood from the side of her face.

When she finally finds her words -- “ Call me Sage, a sort of . . . Handler, for our mutual friend. ” She sees no reason to hide her alias, nor her name, when the woman's work falls this far from the line of legality. Blackmail can go both ways, and she knows she is not important enough to benefit from silence.

“ Does he usually talk to you like that ? ” Quid pro quo, though Sage already knows the answer. She likes to stir the pot. Curiosity an impulse she cannot control.

[monenblogi]

@nightmdic - from dis

Being corporeal was... really weird sometimes. 

“Well--would you believe I didn’t get savagely beaten to meet a pretty lady in her clinic? And—ow, yeah, that’s the coolest line I got.” The sensation of exhaustion when sapped from overuse of spirit energy? That was familiar, something Xanthe knew well enough to navigate without becoming some beast’s dinner. Actual injury was still...  

Well, weird to put it lightly. 

“Do people really hate that bar that badly?” They grimaced over the bit of glass that was plucked out of their hand. Probably from the window, whoops. “Third time I’ve--mn, been t’ that one and think that’s the third time someone’s tried blowing it up.” 

[clochanamarch]

" hey... you know that i'll defend you against any doubts, especially your own. so know that this isn't me questioning you, but me trying to make sure you know you're not alone. okay? because you're brilliant, marie. the very notion that you don't have your name splashed across books and papers and walks of fame is beyond me. but you're rushed off your feet, and... and i can't bear the idea that you'll collapse under the weight of all these lives you're saving. so please... just let me take some of the work from you. okay? i can do it. i can help. just promise me you'll let me, hey? "

@nightmdic liked THIS POST for a starter using aisling's new fc!

[qapsiel]

@nightmdic liked the starter call (still accepting)

                             "IS THIS WHAT DYING FEELS LIKE?" Probably not, but to a former angel who has never ever been sick before, having a cold equalizes being on your deathbed. He's sometimes terribly cold, and no number of blankets seem to help, and the next minute, he has to throw everything off his body because heat is setting every limb on fire. And the runny nose? Disgusting. Why do human bodies produce so much secretion? And his throat! It's like swallowing shards. Castiel just wants this to be over. Marie is a doctor; can't she do anything besides chicken soup and offering tissues? Castiel squints at her, looking rather pathetic. "Isn't there a pill?" Pharmacies are full of them.

[ghstbrthr]

⭑ Blindspot blinked glowing eyes at the doctor and tried for a charming smile beneath the mask, before realising and waving in her direction. He didn't really remember how he got here, but the air was full of chemical cleanliness and his side wasn't being washed in waves of blood anymore. Meekly, he offered a shrug and tried to come up with something believable, ' sorry, I just get a little turned around sometimes. Where are we ? '

— @nightmdic : ❛ i have time for this. ❜

[exigencism]

@nightmdic <3'd!

IT HAD gotten easier, with time. And patience. And a hell of a lot of speaking without words. Curt's urging, and insistence, and begging, and pleading was enough to convince it to listen, and by the time it trudged its way through the gate of her clinic, it had decided to rest. Scaled muscles give way to the scrawny man it concealed. Curt fished his pockets for his watch; four hours. It took him four hours to wrestle control out of its claws once more. He seemed to be making steady progress.

Here comes the headache. Dazed and disoriented, he leans against an empty wall, amongst bits of rubble from his sudden entrance. Bone-tired, weary, exhausted. His knees give way and his back scrapes against the wall as he sits against it, neck craning downwards to take stock of his torn clothing. He'll need to find some size-fitting solution if he's to truly find peace with the... creature he has trapped himself with.

Noticing her nearing footsteps, he lifts his heavy head and weakly waves with his good arm. "Sorry for... barging in like this. I'll... help pay to fix it if you want. It was either this-" he gestures vaguely at the destruction- "or scaling a building. Didn't really feel like being in the Daily Bugle for the third time this week."

[ncrthernl1ghts]

" YOU SHOULD SEE the other guy, " stan mumbles as marie diligently stitches up the slash wound on his bicep, " i about bit through his finger. did you know if you bite in the right spot, its like biting through a carrot?"

@nightmdic gets a mullet stan!

[parainvestigate]

@nightmdic 𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴𝙳 𝙼𝚈 𝚂𝙼𝙾𝙻 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙲𝙰𝙻𝙻

“Natural to be shaken after watching a corpse come back to life and try to kill you. But you're alright.”

[detectivewoof-a]

@nightmdic || sc!

“Listen, if you think this is bad then you should see the other guy.” 

Actually? She didn’t need to. For safety reasons, mostly, the guy was apprehended and whoever the last chosen victim would’ve been could sleep easier at night. It... was just that it might have come down to a rather unfortunate attempted knife fight that most definitely didn’t end in the guy’s favor. 

Did for Manny, at least, he was lucky to just scrape away with a broken nose more than anything. 

“Mn--insisted I’ll be fine but boss doesn’t believe me...” 

[dionadaiir]

𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐌 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒. He leaned in to give her a little snuggle before opening his mouth to speak. 

❝ 𝐈𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞? 𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐭.❞ 

@nightmdic liked for a 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫.

[monenblogi]

@nightmdic - for dis

“I--know this might sound really weird, but there’s something I have to do for one of your patients.” 

All a part of Taweret’s deal, something she was becoming a bit more painfully aware of, but these were just things that had to be done to maintain the avatar state. Hand for a hand, besides the part where Layla was aware of the goddess’s insistence on seeing to this one in particular. 

“He’s fairly young, brown hair, he would’ve come in—” The pause is palpable, the red scarab pendant glowing deeply as Layla breathed in. Listening, maybe wincing a bit, sometimes she really wished the Goddess would take a short breath before explaining the situation. “’His mother knows he doesn’t have much time left, but he’s in denial about it. She wants to make sure he knows she forgives him’.”