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#undead medic
spyshusbandmedic · 1 month
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⟨ Mirrored Picture‼️ ⟩
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Got lightly a bit Lazy now.. So there is no any Extra's in this Picture...‼️
Just me, I and myself.❗🤡✌️
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But the good Information is I probably can do something either at the Evening [today.] or tomorrow [Sunday] with one of my CosplayPartners. [Team Fortress 2 Duo Cosplay]‼️
We'll see about that... ❗
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pinacoladamatata · 9 months
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Everyone got these beautiful headcanons for Astarion and I'm sitting in the corner like a weirdo thinking about how after he was locked in a tomb for a year, "not moving for months" he would have had the Worst case of adhesive capsulitis. Ever. "Months of clawing at the door". This man's rotator cuffs are probably a Wreck.
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huntinglove · 3 months
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Going to bed because I have to go to the doctor tomorrow... Not looking forward to getting stuck with a needle again ;3;
Goodnight everyone, I hope we all dream of our F/Os!
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silveredcircuitry · 7 months
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We were going to make history
[decoded messages under the cut]
the head
[the fool
fated to fail
and aid a
monster
saved herself]
the body
[a key
preservation
masterpiece
you fucked it up
severed the thread
left rotting
useless fallen strings
alone]
the sigils
[amaranth]
[datura]
[reforged]
[witness rebirth]
[eternal control]
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zer0point5ive · 10 months
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lawrence gordon last surviving jigsaw apprentice but at what cost
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green-x-reaper · 1 month
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"I diagnose you with death!"
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evilundead · 1 year
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its funny that doctors who deny care to people they think are drug seeking also never seem to offer any resources for dealing with addiction. its almost like they don't actually care about addicts at all and just want them to suffer for what they perceive to be a moral failing
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tmae3114 · 2 years
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The fact that Helia is referred to as both “Nurse” and “Doctor” on separate occasions is very funny to me because those are not interchangable titles and therefore I can only conclude that Helia Quinn has two degrees and went to both medical school and nursing school
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hauntingmiser · 1 year
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Submas au wen?
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"Kill all your friends ingo...they all betrayed us back then...."
"I understand, Emmett but we are free now so you must keep quiet."
"understandable Ingo."
[ maybe they're undead / robot ? ]
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batmurdock · 1 year
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I think unfortunately for everyone I WILL be making an iZombie Reanimator fic
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spyshusbandmedic · 1 month
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» 𝑇𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑣𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐻𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑥, 𝑧𝑒 𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑜𝑙𝑠! 𝑍𝑒𝑦 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑒 𝑧𝑖𝑠! «
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⟨ Mirrored Picture‼️ ⟩
I was at first pretty struggling to post anything here on Tumblr to be honest.. or likely any of my Cosplays somewhere ever again... ❗
But well..yeah it is Emesis Blue The Undead Medic (The Second Opinion) / (Two-Faced Medic)
It was very fun to make the whole Makeup, especially the Face/Body Paint part~ 👑🕊️
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somasean · 2 years
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Medicine - Chase Brody
content: hallucinations, medication abuse, loosely mentioned family death, brief suicide mention
an: a draft drom 2018! yea, we're going THAT far back. took ages for me to finish it then. based off the Hollywood Undead song "Medicine"
♤♤♤♤
"I think I must be sick," Chase whispered to the reflection staring back at him, face distorted through the countless cracks in the mirror. He pulled the skin below his right eye down and let out an exasperated groan. It wasn't like him to become ill this easy - he took fairly good care of himself - but it seemed that something inside of him had just... changed.
If he had to pinpoint a start date for this hell, it was near the time he was forced to sign the first divorce paper. It's just stress. You're drinking too much. You're going to kill yourself if you keep this up, Chase. Phrases he heard all too often from his doctor. He's been stressed for goddamn years, he knew the difference between regular stress and this. This wasn't something brought on by his failed marriage. He knew damn well the difference between "stress" and this illness.
This was far different.
It wasn't detectable in any kind of bloodwork test, X-Rays, mental evaluations or any other kind of prick-and-prod tests he had been subjected to. It was almost as if it someone - or something - had ingrained itself deep inside Chase's head and was just playing some kind of sick joke on him. It had a mind of its own and it fucking knew when to go back into its dormant state and hide away like a coward.
He had hoped after the first few weeks that it would fade on its own. Patience pays, Henrik always says.
However, at five weeks in, things were becoming worse. He went from headaches that ruined his entire day, panic attacks that never seemed to end and multiple scratches and bruises that were littered all over his body. Shadows of what once were lurked just outside his field of view and mocked him relentlessly with their barely audible murmurs.
Six weeks after the first "incident" and he became Henrik's test subject. He knew he'd be in good hands. Hell, he'd give the man his life if he needed to.
Eight weeks brought upon narcolepsy and constant sleep paralysis.
Thirteen and he's stared down the barrel of a loaded .45 more times than he'd like to admit.
Eighteen presented a half-assed "Depression" diagnose. He's spent disgusting amounts on therapy and antidepressants that only seemed to make him worse.
Twenty-four landed him in ICU.
Here he was, four days shy of thirty weeks deep in this hell of his, looking for any goddamn way to solve his pain.
"Again." Chase pulled open the medicine cabinet and rubbed his temple harshly, hoping that it would ease his headache. Henrik had always said that pressure helped the pain. He couldn't be wrong, could he?
Chase took a step away from the sink, catching a handful of bottles that fell towards him when he opened the medicine cabinet. He had meant to clean the cabinet a while ago but he couldn't find it in himself to waste energy on it. Maybe now would be a good time to clean, get his mind off of his current situation.
He grabbed the nearest bag and tossed the empty bottles into it, checking each label before doing so. He was never able to stick to one prescription for more than a month before they changed him again. Dozens of bottles, all from a different kind of doctor, yet all having the same useless effects. It was if they were just handing him nothing but sugar pills in hopes to placate him. Or maybe they had decided to wring out every filthy cent from him that they could.
It wasn't long before he had the bag in his hand full to the brim from bottles and post-its on who he should let dissect him this time around. He closed the now barren cabinet and tiptoed through his house, towards the kitchen. Even after not seeing his kids in months, he still had the habit of being as quiet as possible.
As he placed his foot on the final step, he heard what he could've only assumed to be a small cry for help. He wasn't sure exactly where it had come from, but it seemed to have been from behind him. He turned around slowly and peered up the steps, nails digging through the plastic bag and embedding it into his skin. He tried desperately to recall if he had heard something while he was cleaning, but all his mind gave him was fuzz.
Having decided that it was nothing more than just a neighbor playing a movie far too loudly, he backed away from the landing and made his way into the kitchen. He felt his way along the smooth wall for the light switch, growing more uncomfortable in the darkness with every passing second. "Goddamn it." Chase pushed himself away from the wall and carefully moved through the darkness.
He set the bag down beside him and leaned against the counter, resting his head in his hands. "How'd I sink so low?" His voice was nearly deafening in the silent room. He hadn't expected anything more than a low groan from the barren home; after all, it didn't hurt to toss your problems to the void sometimes.
He let his head sink between his hands and onto the cold counter-top, marble stinging at his skin. It'd been a long time since he had been like this, slumped over in the kitchen with his face hidden. So long, that he could barely remember the laughter from his kids as they hid away from him, waiting for him to admit that they were masters at hide and seek.
Of course, he had let them think he didn't find them, it was the least he could have done for them. They trotted around the house with their heads held high and poorly made "Hide and Seek Champion" banners. They were so proud of their victory that Chase framed the banners and hung them above their door frames.
"You're a pitiful sight. Filling in the gaps with false memories are we?" The voice pierced Chase's spine and left him paralyzed, as if he were a deer that had finally been caught. "You know that's not what really happened, is it? There's no need to lie to yourself any longer, we're all friends here, aren't we?"
Chase let out an unsteady breath and closed his eyes tightly, trying to convince himself this was just another hallucination of his. This was nothing more than his subconscious fucking with him, or maybe he had simply passed out from exhaustion?
Either way, he didn't want to stick around to find out. He dug his fingernails into his hands and pushed himself away from the counter and stumbled backwards into the fridge. Even in the dark, he was able to make out a figure lounging on the couch, twirling something between their fingers.
They stood up slowly and limped towards Chase. "You meant to hurt her, didn't you? You knew she was running up the stairs and yet," The figure stopped before the patch of moonlight shining into the kitchen. "You're truly are a sick man." The figure dropped what they had been holding and charged at Chase, causing him to cower and cover himself with his arms.
When nothing had struck him, he unraveled himself to find an empty house once more.
Chase fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed the number he knew all too well with shaky hands, not even allowing his friend to get a word in.
"I think I'm gonna need another prescription."
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huntinglove · 5 months
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Talk of medication, very happy Ghosty
Guess who's going to get back on their meds after three years of being forced to go without them??
I'm so excited to have some energy again!!
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dragonlover56 · 2 years
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Body horror ahead beware
I got my wisdom teeth out Friday and it’s healed to the point I can actually feel the meaty holes in the back of my mouth and I absolutely hate them
The worst part is I’m incredibly paranoid about getting stuff in the holes, especially now that I can feel them, but the back of the mouth is where humans are supposed to chew most foods so I can barely eat anything, which as you can imagine is doing wonders for my digestive tract (/s), which means I’m super nauseous, especially because I can feel the awful texture of the big meaty holes in the back of my mouth
Long story short, I hate it here
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skelenby · 1 year
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🫀By blood, by bone, we are bound 🫀
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puppetmaster13u · 6 days
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Prompt 314
Danny has discovered something absolutely amazing. While he can’t cook for shit, he can? Actually bake? Really well? Must be those bonding sessions in Long Now with Clockwork making all those cookies and cakes and everything else. 
But? This means he can A, actually make himself food, and B, has somehow befriended several more ghosts, including his rogues. Apparently he gave off bedraggled cat vibes when covered in flour. Or they just enjoyed the cupcakes he’d made to look like them in a sleep deprived ferver. 
But hey, he even has a decent job while he’s in (online due to medical issues, officially) college at one of the local bakery-cafes. Which means he also gets free coffee, so that’s nice too. Just erm, he might’ve gotten in the habit of handing cookies or other baked goods to anyone trying to attack him.
Look, it’s how he befriended his rogues (Apparently Fright Knight, being the ghost of Autumn, enjoys pumpkin spice cookies, who knew?) and they even continue to visit too. 
So really, it’s not his fault that there’s several goonion (honestly Sam will be pleased to learn they’ve got a union) members who are now constantly coming to the bakery. And- okay is that another undead person? Have a cupcake. 
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