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3 months ago

Misunderstood By Society (1)

Asylum Patient! Konig x GN! Doctor! Reader

SOO... I've finally decided to make this an actual story. Heeyyy @gremlinmodetweeker Thought you might like it!!! ♡♡

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The scent of old books and sterilized floors filled the office, a strange combination of history and control. Mr. Wiles sat across from me, his gnarled hands resting atop a folder marked with thick red ink—KÖNIG. The name alone carried weight. I had heard it whispered through the halls before I even stepped foot into this office, spoken in hushed tones by orderlies and doctors alike.

"You're aware of the assignment, Dr. Y/N?" Mr. Wiles' voice was soft, deliberate, but there was something unreadable in his gaze.

"Yes, sir," I replied, sitting up straighter. "König. High risk. History of violent outbursts. Resistance to treatment."

Mr. Wiles nodded, flipping open the file. His brow creased ever so slightly as he traced his finger down the page. "He's... difficult. Bigger than any of our other patients. Stronger. He has attacked staff before, and his reactions to sedation are—" He hesitated, choosing his next words carefully. "Severe."

I had done my research before taking this position. König had been here for years, in and out of high-security confinement, yet no one had truly reached him. The reports were conflicting.

Some described him as a mindless brute, others painted him as an intelligent but deeply scarred man, one who refused to speak unless it was in anger. He never removed the hood that obscured his face. Some believed he never would.

"He refuses his medication," I said, watching Wiles closely. "And he doesn't react well to needles."

"He despises them," Wiles confirmed. "We've had to restrain him on more than one occasion. It only makes things worse." I kept my expression neutral, but inside, my mind was already turning.

König had spent his life fighting—whether it was his past, his captors, or himself, I didn't know yet. But the approach they had taken so far wasn’t working. Restraints, forced medication, treating him like a caged animal... of course he resisted.

"And my role?" I asked.

Mr. Wiles closed the file, exhaling through his nose. "You're his personal caretaker now. You’ll oversee his treatment, manage his outbursts, and—if possible—try to reach him. You will be the one he sees the most, the one responsible for ensuring he doesn’t become a danger to himself or others." He met my eyes.

"No one has succeeded yet, Dr. Y/N. Many have quit. Some were injured. You are new, and I admire your determination, but I must ask—are you certain?"

I held his gaze. "If no one has succeeded, then that means no one has tried the right way yet. I don’t believe in giving up before I’ve even begun." Mr. Wiles studied me for a long moment before a small, knowing smile crossed his lips.

"I thought you might say that." He pushed the folder toward me. "Your first session begins tomorrow morning. Be careful, Doctor. König may not be the monster they say he is... but he is still dangerous."

I took the file, gripping it firmly.

"We'll see."


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3 months ago

Misunderstood By Society (3)

Asylum Patient! König x GN! Doctor! Reader

Warnings⚠️: Posted here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The quiet hum of my apartment felt almost unnatural after the weight of the asylum. The dim glow of my desk lamp cast long shadows as I flipped through König’s file, the pages slightly worn from being handled so many times.

I had read through his basics already—his history of violence, his refusal to remove his hood, his resistance to treatment—but it wasn’t until I dug deeper into his medication list that my brows furrowed.

Several of his prescriptions made sense—antipsychotics, mood stabilizers, anti-anxiety medications—but a few names stood out.

{High doses of sedatives. Heavy tranquilizers.}

I muttered to myself, running a finger down the list. “Were they trying to sedate him or tranquilize him?”

I had seen this before. In facilities like Winchester, when a patient became too “difficult,” the solution was often chemical restraint rather than actual treatment. But König wasn’t an animal to be put down when he got too aggressive—he was a man. A man with a fractured mind, one that had been pushed to the point of breaking.

Sighing, I leaned back in my chair and scrubbed a hand down my face. I’d figure that out later. For now, I needed to prepare.

I got up, threw a microwave dinner into the machine, and let it spin while I grabbed my notebook. König’s file had listed his three biggest diagnoses—**PTSD, Severe Anxiety, and Bipolar Disorder.** None of them were uncommon for someone with a history like his, but combined with past military experience and hallucinations? It was a volatile mix.

I started writing.

PTSD:

- Triggers can vary (sounds, environments, smells).

- Hypervigilance—may react aggressively if startled.

- May experience flashbacks—important to ground them in the present.

- Do not corner or restrain without necessity—could escalate panic.

Severe Anxiety:

- Constant state of heightened awareness.

- Likely has difficulty trusting others—especially in a place like this.

- Resistance to medication may stem from paranoia.

- Routines might help stabilize his mood.

Bipolar Disorder:

- Mood swings—manic episodes vs. depressive episodes.

- Manic: Impulsive behavior, possible aggression.

- Depressive: Withdrawal, possible suicidal ideation.

- Medication regulation is critical.

I tapped the pen against my notepad, thinking. König wasn’t just violent—he was reactive. His entire life, he had been treated as a monster, as something to be subdued rather than understood. It wasn’t surprising that he lashed out.

The mircowave beeped, but I barely noticed it, my mind too focused on the task ahead. If I was going to handle this right, I needed to know what not to do.

What NOT to do around König:

- Sudden movements or loud noises—could trigger defensive aggression.

- Forced eye contact—may make him feel challenged or threatened.

- Overuse of restraints—will increase distrust and worsen anxiety.

- Talking down to him—he’s not *stupid*, and treating him like a child will only piss him off.

- Forcing medication—there has to be a reason he refuses it. Find out why.

I exhaled, closing the notebook.

Tomorrow was going to be my first session with König. I wasn’t walking into this blind.

I was going to be prepared.

————————————————————————

The asylum always felt colder in the mornings. Maybe it was just the old building settling, or maybe it was something else—something deeper. Either way, I felt it in my bones as I made my way to the lockers, stopping when I saw Miss. Nessi leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

"Morning," she greeted, offering me a small but knowing smile.

"Morning," I replied, twisting open my locker and grabbing my things. "Anything I should know before I see him?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "Jacobs is already in there."

I paused, my fingers gripping the edge of my clipboard a little tighter. "Of course he is."

"Be careful," Nessi murmured, lowering her voice. "You ever notice how some of the staff here act like they enjoy this place a little too much?" I glanced at her, noting the concern in her eyes. She was right. There were people here who weren’t just desensitized to the work—they thrived in it. Jacobs was one of them.

I gave her a nod, silently assuring her I’d be fine before heading to König’s restricted wing.

The moment I stepped inside, I knew something was wrong.

König was restrained, held down by two guards, his entire body tensed like a coiled spring. His breathing was sharp and uneven, chest rising and falling with barely contained rage. Jacobs stood in front of him, holding a small paper cup filled with pills.

"You gonna take 'em, or are we gonna have to *help* you again?" Jacobs taunted, his voice laced with amusement. "Come on, big guy. Open up."

König didn’t move. His hood obscured most of his face, but even from here, I could feel the intensity of his glare.

I flipped through my notebook, skimming my own notes. "Intimidation tactics don’t work," I said aloud, not bothering to hide my disapproval. "Neither does *antagonizing* the patient, but I guess that’s too much to ask."

Jacobs turned, his cocky smirk faltering slightly. "Oh, look, the new doc finally showed up." I didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, I met his gaze with a calm but firm stare. "Leave."

Jacobs scoffed. "Excuse me?"

"You’re excused," I replied evenly. "I’ll be handling his medication today." Jacobs’ jaw tightened. "You’re new. You don’t know how things work around here." I smiled, sharp and polite. "I know enough to recognize unprofessional behavior when I see it. Now, leave."

For a moment, I thought he’d argue, but something in my expression must have told him I wasn’t budging. He rolled his eyes and stepped back, shoving the cup into my hands before walking off with an irritated huff. I turned to the guards. "Out."

One of them hesitated. "Doctor, we’re required to—"

"—Stay out." My voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. "You’re not helping."

They exchanged looks but, eventually, backed away. The heavy doors clicked shut behind them, leaving just me and König in the room.

I finally exhaled, looking up at him. His breathing was still uneven, but now that Jacobs and the guards were gone, it wasn’t as ragged. His shoulders remained tense, but his fists had loosened slightly.

I took a slow, deliberate step forward. "They always treat you like that?"

Silence.

I held up the cup of pills. "I read your file. I know you don’t like taking these. I’m not going to force you. But if we’re going to work together, I need to understand *why* you refuse them." König didn’t speak, but he was listening. That was a start.

I placed the cup on the small table beside us, keeping my movements slow and non-threatening. "I’ll leave these here. Your choice. No threats. No force." I took a step back, giving him space.

"Can I take these off?" I gestured to the restraints. His fingers curled slightly, muscles twitching, but he gave a small nod. Carefully, I reached for the straps, undoing them one by one.

As the last restraint fell away, König didn’t move. He just *watched* me. For the first time since I walked in, I met his gaze, though his face remained shadowed beneath his hood.

"I’m Dr. Y/N," I said softly. "And I'll be taking care of you."


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10 months ago

Me writing out the angst for Donatello I’m posting tomorrow ಥ_ಥ

I FEEL SO MEAN (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`)

-writer Grem

Me Writing Out The Angst For Donatello I’m Posting Tomorrow ಥ_ಥ
6 months ago

This^ guys I just found out what booping was this morning wtf....

I must've not ever been active ok halloween before????

Anyway HAPPY HALLOWEEN GUYS♡

IT'S BEEN AN HOUR AND ALL I'M DOING IS BOOPING AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAÆÄÅÂÁÆ


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3 months ago

Misunderstood By Society (2)

Asylum Patient Konig x GN!Doctor! reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The staff locker room smelled faintly of bleach and old metal, the fluorescent lights casting everything in a pale, washed-out glow. I stood in front of my assigned locker, methodically placing my items inside—badge, clipboard, patient files, my white coat, and a thicker one for when the building’s heating inevitably failed in certain wings.

A quiet humming sound caught my attention before a cheerful voice followed. “New doctor, huh? You must be Dr. Y/N.” I turned, meeting the gaze of a woman in blue scrubs, her ID tag reading Miss Nessi. She was petite, her dark hair pinned back neatly, and she had the kind of warmth in her smile that made her seem out of place in a place like this.

“That’s me,” I replied, shutting my locker. “Nice to meet you.”

“Same to you,” she said, leaning against the lockers. “Wiles told me you’d be working with König. You’ve got guts.” I only nodded. People kept telling me that, and I didn’t know yet if it was a compliment or a warning.

Another voice cut in, this one male. “I was supposed to be his personal caretaker before you arrived. Guess they thought he needed a fresh face.”

I turned again and immediately felt a shift in the air. The man standing there—*Dave Jacobs,* according to his badge—was tall, well-built, and undeniably attractive by most standards. But something about him set my nerves on edge. Maybe it was the way his eyes lingered too long or how his smirk didn’t quite reach them.

“That means you and I will be working together closely,” he added smoothly, stepping just a little too close. “Guess that makes us partners, yeah?” I didn’t react, merely grabbing my clipboard from the locker and shutting it. “Only when I’m not here,” I said flatly.

For a split second, something flickered in his expression—something cold—but it was gone just as quickly. He chuckled, running a hand through his hair like he was in some kind of movie. “Don’t worry. I’ll take *good* care of him when you’re not around.” I didn’t answer, just turned to Miss Nessi, who gave me a look that said I know.

I made quick work of my things, not wanting to linger. I wasn’t scheduled to meet König until tomorrow, so for now, I busied myself with walking the asylum, familiarizing myself with the halls, the layout, and—most of all—the details.

I noticed everything. The smudges on the tile from worn-down shoes. The faint scent of stale cigarettes despite the “No Smoking” signs. The scratches on the walls, some fresh, some years old. Some carved with fingernails, others with something sharper.

The workers moved about in careful patterns, some chatting, others moving in silence. But something about them—most of them—felt off. I couldn’t place it yet, but it was there, lingering beneath the surface.

I thought about my empty home, about the dinner I had waiting for me, a simple meal I’d probably eat alone at my kitchen table. It was better than nothing.

Then—

BZZT!

The intercom crackled to life, the voice coming through sharp and direct:

“Code Yellow. Staff to Wing C. Repeat, Code Yellow.”

I froze, instinct kicking in. Someone had been hit by a patient.

Miss Nessi, who had been walking nearby, grabbed my arm before I could move. “Don’t. Security’s handling it.”

I hesitated, glancing down the hall. Already, orderlies and doctors were moving quickly toward Wing C. But something in my gut twisted.

I had only been here a short time, but I could already feel it—something about the asylum wasn’t right. And I had a feeling that König was only the beginning.


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10 months ago

AHHH okay, ive been working on a 2007! Raph x GN! Reader and it's taking a little longer than I thought so take this edit-

LOVE YOU GUYS

-Writer Icy<3


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9 months ago

I've never laughed so hard at seeing what was in my notifications today-

I'm so glad I'm not alone in this insane obsession 🫣

@acey-wacey @xenniboii 🩵

I made this-

Do I regret?? Absolutely not-


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10 months ago

In the quiet

ROTTMNT Leo

Sleepy! Leo x GN! Reader

Fluff/Character comfort

This takes place after the events of the Kraang invasion. Idk why but TMNT been a recent hype fixation (I blame Chaos), and I've just been wanting to write for it until I start getting requests! Much Love!

-Writer Icy<3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of distant explosions echoed through Leo's mind as he tossed and turned in his sleep. The Kraang invasion replayed vividly in his nightmare: the city in ruins, his brothers fighting valiantly but being overwhelmed, the despair that had clawed at his heart. Raph being taken and Kraang possessed, Donnie's broken battle shell, Mikey's tears- He jolted awake, gasping for breath, his chest heaving with the remnants of panic. It felt real.

For a moment, Leo lay still, staring at the ceiling of his room, trying to shake off the nightmare. The familiar surroundings did little to comfort him, and the images of the invasion lingered in the corners of his mind. Deciding he needed a distraction, he quietly slipped out of bed and made his way to the kitchen.

The apartment was silent, having stayed with his s/o for the night, the only sound being the gentle hum of the refrigerator. Leo flicked on the coffee maker, watching as it gurgled to life, the rich aroma of brewing coffee filling the air. He leaned against the counter, rubbing his eyes, trying to shake off the residual fear.

As he poured himself a cup, he heard soft footsteps approaching. He turned to see his s/o, their hair slightly tousled from sleep, padding out of his room. They gave him a sleepy smile before wrapping their arms around him from behind, resting their head against his shell.

"Leo, what are you doing up?" Y/n murmured, their voice soft and concerned.

He forced a smile, trying to play it off. "Just couldn't sleep. Figured I'd make some coffee."

They didn't buy it. They never did. With a gentle but firm tug, y/n pulled him away from the counter, guiding him back to the living room. They sat down on the couch, patting the spot beside them. "Come on, talk to me."

Reluctantly, Leo sat down, his shoulders slumping. Y/n rubbed his shell comfortingly, their touch soothing the tension that had built up in his muscles. "Was it a nightmare?" they asked, their voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet. Y/n continued to rub his shell, their touch grounding him, bringing him back to the present. "The Kraang invasion," he finally admitted, his voice hoarse. "I keep seeing it... hearing it."

Y/n pulled him closer, letting him rest his head on their shoulder. "You don't have to go through this alone, Leo. I'm here for you."

He sighed, the weight of the nightmare beginning to lift as he felt their warmth, their steady presence. "It's just... it was so real. I thought we were going to lose everything."

"But you didn't," Y/n reminded him gently. "You and your brothers fought back. You saved the city. You saved each other."

He nodded again, feeling a bit more at ease. "I know. It's just hard to forget."

Y/n held him tighter, their hand still rubbing soothing circles on his shell. "I understand. But you don't have to carry this burden by yourself. We're a team, remember?"

A small smile tugged at his lips. "Yeah, we are."

Y/n kissed the top of his head before leaning back, coaxing him to lie down with them on the couch. "Let's try to get some more sleep, okay? We'll face whatever comes next together."

As he nestled against them, feeling their heartbeat steady and strong beneath his cheek, the remnants of the nightmare finally began to fade. Their presence was a balm to his troubled mind, and he let himself relax, the tension melting away.

With their gentle touch and reassuring words, Leo found himself drifting back to sleep, the nightmare banished by the warmth and love of the one who held him close.


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10 months ago

Ya'll im stuck-

Please pick. I have two ideas and idk who to write first-

So- Ive got an idea for a 2012! Raph x Insomniac Reader who has insomnia and sleep paralysis and she calls him at ungodly hours (which he acts super grumpy about) but refuses to hang up until she "goes to bed" n its all cute n fluffy-

ORRR

I write a slight angst/comfort fic of Ghost x Fem!Reader where their in a serious situation and reader see's her bestfriend die and she panics almost getting someone else+herself killed and Ghost snaps at her-

UGH okay yall can vote- both are in drafts rn help me out-

Writer Icy<3


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