#pellet treatment

[erectionclinicpost]

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[omahamedspa]

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[almamedspa]

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[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Realistic Injuries (pt. 4)

The Mechanism of Injury

Assists in establishing both the safety of the scene and guides the remainder of the primary survey.

The seriousness of the mechanism of injury is a significant clue as to the potential seriousness of the patient's actual injuries, be they external or internal.

Relaying the mechanism of injury to downstream care providers early in the course of transport helps them be better prepared and have the necessary resources available for when they are treating the patient in the near future.

A patient with a severe mechanism of injury (MOI) warns providers that they may have a patient who requires many hands/tools/teams for treatment.

Getting those people alerted and organized is a great head start for the patient.

MOIs can be divided into 2 broad categories:

Significant Injuries. Some examples:

Ejection from a vehicle.

Prolonged extrication time.

Multi-system trauma.

Motor vehicle-pedestrian/biker accidents.

Motor vehicle accidents where any occupant of the vehicle was killed.

Any fall over 3 times the patient's height.

Insignificant Injuries. Some examples:

Fights or physical altercations without loss of consciousness.

Minor injuries to isolated body parts.

Car accidents without injury or symptoms of injury to any occupant.

The division between these groups is nothing more than the likelihood that a patient with a certain MOI will present with trauma requiring intensive care. Not all patients with an insignificant MOI are free from severe injuries and vice versa.

More Mechanisms of Injury Categories used to Classify Narratives

Caught accidentally in or between objects

Drowning

Electric currents

Explosive material

Exposure to radiation

Fall

Firearm

Overexertion

Poisoning

Suffocation

Head-on collision frequently results in the rider ejecting or partially ejecting over the handlebars. Common injuries include:

Head and neck injury if no helmet in place

Thoracoabdominal injury from handlebar impact (common in children)

“Open book” pelvic fracture—a splaying open (like a book) of the anterior and posterior pelvis from striking the handlebars

Bilateral femur fracture

Skin abrasions, lacerations

Injuries are decreased when a helmet is in place in proper position and if protective clothing is worn.

Gunshot wounds (GSW) are usually intentional (suicide, homicide) but can be unintentional (hunting, gun not in holster, gun cleaning).

Some mechanisms at work with gunshots include:

Yaw: vertical and horizontal oscillation about the axis of the bullet; can result in a larger surface area on impact with the body depending on the position of the bullet on the axis at time of impact.

Tumbling: rotation of the bullet upon impact resulting in some parts of the cavity larger than others as the bullet rotates along the path.

Rifling: spiraling grooves within the barrel of the weapon put spin on the bullet as it exits the barrel; provides stability in flight along the axis.

Hollow-point bullets: deform on impact causing a larger surface area to inflict damage.

Shotgun: multiple pellets within the cartridge; also possible to have one large projectile, such as a “pumpkin ball,” both air resistance and gravity spread the pellets over distance; closer shotgun wounds result in serious large wounds as the pellets remain clumped together.

The bullet does not usually travel in a straight path. This results in the need for exploration as multiple injuries can occur although the path appears to be in a straight line. Intentional injuries may require either psychiatric support (suicide attempts) or safety (homicide attempts).

Stabbings are also usually intentional (suicide, homicide) but can be unintentional, (eg, a slip on wet floor and landing on open dishwasher with knives pointing upward). A stabbing most often:

follows a direct path,

is low velocity resulting mostly in damage along the line of the path itself, and

are of varying depth.

The type of blade affects the wound inflicted, such as straight blade versus a serrated edge.

From a forensic medicine perspective, a stab is deeper than it is long and a cut is longer than deep.

A cut differs from a blunt laceration in that the edges are clean and the direction of the wound inflicted indicates the direction of the force.

Stabs to the chest and abdomen are particularly important to investigate as the angle of the penetration may indicate that the wound crosses both cavities injuring the diaphragm in between the two.

Sources: 1 2 3 ⚜ Part 1 ⚜ Part 2 ⚜ Part 3 ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[redux-iterum]

Salute to a Brief, Precious Companion

I just came home from the vet. If you missed the notice on Friday, Rocky has been euthanized due to failing health. I'm a little bit of a mess right now, so apologies if this post isn't coherent or it's overly-emotional. I just feel I should pay my respects and tell you all Rocky's story. Be prepared. This is a long one.

This was Rocky. Nicknames included Wocky, Rocky-Pocky, Rockadocious, and Little Man. He was an incredibly sweet and incredibly skinny critter who somehow even Jupiter outsized. I only had him for 7 or 8 months, but what lovely months they were.

Rocky came to me from a horrible situation - someone who is technically part of the family (and do I dearly wish they weren't) is one of the worst pet owners I've ever seen in my life, and he regrettably had Rocky for over 10 years. That is, 10 years trapped in a single room with a connected bathroom where his rarely-cleaned litterbox (singular, shared with multiple cats) was located. He didn't have anything: no comfort, no entertainment, pellets that could barely pass for cat food, and no attention. This was supposedly to save him from a dog that had a habit of killing every small animal it came across, but once that dog died, as did Rocky's companions, he still wasn't allowed out of that room because the idiot didn't want cat fur all over his furniture. Mind you, his dishes in the pantries had dust all over them, if that tells you how he lives his life.

Anyway, a relative of his called me and begged me to take Rocky, being unable to stand his solitude and wails for affection any time she went to that house. I wasn't looking for another cat at the time, but I agreed, on the condition that the former owner pay for the initial vet visits and whatever treatments were needed. Rocky was very visibly unwell when I saw him - underweight, crooked-backed and smelling of sickness. I never had a high opinion of his owner in the first place, but as time went on and I saw the effects of Rocky's ailments and the consequences of him never seeing a vet in those 10 years... well. If murder was legal.

Rocky's first 2 weeks in my house were disastrous. He attacked Moses, Jupiter and Moonshine any time he saw them, had no idea that he wasn't allowed to just pee wherever he wanted, and was frightened and confused by toys. It took several months for him to understand the concept of batting a ball around for fun, and he never did fully get that sleeping on a soft pile of blankets is much nicer than a hard table. I was extremely close to seeking out another home for him, certain that this wasn't going to work and I had just ruined the energy of the house for my other poor cats.

But somehow, Rocky turned around! He realized the other cats weren't a threat to him (all three of them are excellent at handling tense situations with fellow felines, and they never struck back or hissed at him during his rampage), and started seeking them out for companionship. Of course, it had been a few years since he'd seen another living cat, and he'd kind of ruined his initial impression on them with his poor behavior, so it took a while for them to fully relax around him. He and Jupiter very quickly were forced to become friends as both of them wanted on my lap at all times and weren't willing to give up their seat to each other. They eventually sought each other out and would sleep together even without me being there.

Rocky practiced being friendly on Jupiter, including grooming him. Amusingly, Rocky didn't quite remember how to groom another cat, so he ended up licking the fur the wrong way and getting Jupiter all slobbery, like a dog had licked his head. Jupiter never minded, purring along and letting Rocky do his thing.

Moonshine was more hesitant to let Rocky sit on her or curl up by her, but Moonshine's never held a grudge in her life and conceded towards the latter third of our time with him.

Moses...

Well, y'all know Moses. He was just as grumpy with this other old man as he is with everyone else. Though interestingly, over this weekend, he was unusually kind to Rocky, and actively laid down next to him and let Rocky touch him.

In fact, everyone was extra nice this weekend. I suspect they knew something was up from my energy and mood. They were sticking close to me as well.

As Rocky got more comfortable in the house, he really showed his personality. He followed me around everywhere, couldn't force out a loud meow if his life depended on it, wanted on my lap at all times (making up for a decade of loneliness, I guess), and demonstrated a sweetness and cheerfulness that couldn't be beat. He was, by far, the best at taking medicine that I have ever experienced with a pet. He would swallow his pills with no struggle and allowed me to give him shots of vitamins without so much as a twitch. It's extra-impressive for how long he went without those things. Really, his only fault was that he would have accidents around the house - everything else about him was wonderful.

I knew he was a hospice case when I took him in. He was sick and old; he wasn't long for this world, whatever I did. I still feel like I failed him for only giving him half a year of a comfortable, happy life compared to the decade of misery he experienced. Everyone tells me that it's quality over quantity, and that he got to live a wonderful last bit, and I should be proud of that. I hear them. But my friends can attest that I've spent the last two weeks kicking a tantrum about how unfair it is that he didn't get more time with me. I won't pretend I'm the very best pet owner in the whole wide world, but god knows I'm at least better than his previous owner, and I provided everything I had, whatever it costed. I felt like I owed Rocky at least a year of joy and love, and he didn't even get that. It's not fair. It's just not fair.

It's amazing how attached you can get to an animal you know will die soon.

Rocky's ashes will be coming to me in a couple weeks. He'll join the rest of my pets on my desk, and that way he'll stay with me. I'm grateful that he got to fall asleep in my arms and that his pain and weakness is over. Wherever he is, he's comfortable.

I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you, Rocky. You deserved the world.

[zshipperandartizt]

again I got bored so I gave them a lazily done ref sheet lol

Anyways lore dump!!

Experiment #107, Name: Clover

107 or rather Clover was the most emotional out of the kids when they started getting experimented on. They would not let anyone get close to them at first, it resulted in them getting locked away multiple times from the other kids. They'd cry for their Ma, Pa, Martlet, for anyone to come and save them from the hell that was turning into an amalgamation, a monster as they would say.

It took a lot to break their will to escape and their resolve, but once it did break they were easy to utilize with a false promise to see their folks again. Although they had an off feeling to them after they broke their silent treatment game.

They smile most of the time now but don't let that fool you, their emotions flip constantly and they are ruthless, they don't hesitate to put others in their places. Using friendliness pellets they will make sure you know they are in charge.

The other kids had elected them to be the leader of their group at some point. They are quite protective of the other children.

It's unclear whether they still consider themselves human, sometimes they will call themselves a monster and not bat an eye.

Their behavior is very strange, surveillance is to be kept on them quite often.

[lorei-writes]

Aphrodite's Kiss; Chapter 1; Keith's route

Kingdom of heart and harvest... It really makes Jade seem as such a nice, bright place, no? Like a hearty meal...

The part about medicinal herbs makes me wonder about their pharmaceutical industry, or the broader implications of it potentially flourishing. I imagine they need to train appropriate herbalists, possibly medics. Do they have any famous universities? How does the prevalence of medicinal plants -- provided that it does at all -- translate to the availability of various treatments? What percentage of their exports are the unprocessed herbs and what are appropriate pellets and such?

What about other herbs? Exactly how aromatic the Jadean cuisine is?

Oh, Keith. Like a deer in a headlights, except not at all.

[flock-talk]

Recently I’ve been looking for advice on creating a “hospital cage/tank” for my parrotlet in case of an emergency. (She is totally fine rn! I want to be prepared though, especially as she ages.) Have you ever had to make one of these, and what supplies would you recommend?

I have, and what you put in to it really depends on the severity of the issue you end up dealing with

- the cage itself can be a standard travel carrier but for more severe ailments it may be best to use something softer than metal bars like a fabric carrier or a cardboard box. Even acrylic cages with more solid walls might be advised depending on the issue

- respiratory issues would require a cage with ample airflow, other ailments may benefit more from enclosed walls the bird can safely bump in to and will contain warmth nicely

- some form of viewing window is helpful for being able to keep tabs on them but some illnesses might make the bird feel extremely stressed if exposed. An option to lightly cover viewpoints (but not restrict airflow) such as a light, loose, sheet may work

- something to pad the floors with, typically a towel- just ensure it doesn’t have loops that toes can get caught in. Extremely sick birds may not be able to perch or even hold themselves up. You’ll want a material that will soften any falls, provides easy tractions for them to push themselves along the floor, be comfortable, as well as be able to be shaped in to little ledges the bird can prop themselves up against to stay upright. Ensure you have multiple of these things, cleanliness is very important with sick animals you’ll want to be able to replace objects and clean things as quickly and easily as possible.

-with that you may want a container without climbable walls. Birds often want height to feel safe and will try to climb up cage walls even if they repeatedly fall off. Smooth walls will prevent them from causing further harm. To reduce the stress of being on the floor it can help to keep the cage itself up nice and high.

- for less severe ailments the bird may perch just fine, in those cases you’ll want some plain dowel perches a diameter that your bird can easily hold on to. Usually a width that their foot can grip 3/4 the way around. Dowels are best in this case for the consistent width and stability, although you may want to sand one down to create a small bit of texture in it so they’re less slippery.

- in some cases a heating pad may be recommended to be placed underneath 1/4-1/3 of the carrier. Something to help keep their body warm if they get sick during the cold season but you don’t want excessive heat trapping causing the bird to overheat. You may also want a Bluetooth thermometer to be placed inside the carrier to accurately monitor temp. I use sensorpush, you can set temp ranges on the app and have it send a (loud) push notification to your phone when the temp goes above or below your set temp ranges.

- easily digestible food, if your bird is on pellets they may not want them when they’re sick. Keeping some fattier foods on hand (or keeping tabs on where you can get them) can be helpful in quickly engaging their appetite. This also means some birds won’t remove shells from their seeds when too sick so finding de shelled seeds or even hearty baby formulas/ recovery formulas can go a long way within the first 24hrs of treatment. Getting them eating is a hugely important problem

- types of dishes. Some sick birds don’t have good balance, a deep water bowl can be a drowning hazard. You might want to train your bird to drink out of hamster bottles or explore shallower water dishes, ones that are a bit smaller, or explore different setups in your carrier that could keep the dishes lightly raised just to head height so that falling over in to it would be very difficult to do as well as making mobility to those areas easier/ less of a tripping hazard. You’ll also want dishes that don’t tip over easily. A wet bird is an uncomfortable and more likely to get sicker bird/ potentially go in to shock.

- make sure your bird is comfortable with handling, restraint, being weighed, and taking foods from a syringe. Less stress when an actual sickness hits means more likelihood for recovery. The more elements of treatment you can prepare them for the better.

- have a good gram scale on hand (kitchen scales work, preferably down to one to two decimal points if you have a tiny bird). Birds losing weight is a big bad situation, weighing them regularly can tell you how much they’re eating, and whether or not they’re improving or worsening before symptoms change which can get them better treatment sooner.

- keep a first aid booklet nearby, consult with your vet team on what to do, what to look out for, bird cpr, emergency 24hr vet numbers. Ask them every single question you have before you leave. Take notes, better to be as prepared as possible and know what Bad and Worse look like rather than guessing

- familiarize yourself with crop feeding. If you don’t have a 24hr avian vet and your bird refuses to eat you’ll likely need to force feed them. If that’s needed your vet /should/ take the time to show you how to do it. Make sure you have the needed syringes and nozzles at home and are familiar with how to use everything.

I think that covers just about everything, keep tabs on the notes though if I’m missed something hopefully some folks will add on!

As always call your vet team and ask, if it’s not super busy you can just talk over the phone about setting up a hospital cage at home and they should be able to give you some accurate tips and pointers. You can also ask if your vet provides pet first aid booklets for birds, most don’t have them on hand but if they’re certified through the AAV there is a file for AAV members they /might/ be able to print out for you

[spikes-got-anger-issues]

i was in a history class the other day and it just. Hit me. How weird of a title lab rats is. Like don’t get me wrong i get it, i get the joke, i get how it’s very on brand for disney xd but also. I don’t know how to explain it but it’s so weird to me. Like i feel like we should have gotten a literal rat-based problem at some points, or with disney being as wholesomely cheesy as they are they’d have a character dress up in mouse ears or something, or they’d make more rat jokes. Also lab rats has a kind of negative connotation, like titling something with rats seems weird? I’m not complaining it’s whatever i just,,, need to know if i’m the only one who’s thought about this lol

I'm so glad you brought this up because I've actually been thinking about this and how Lab Rats fit into Disney (across both channels) and Nickelodeon shows at the time!

Now I haven't finished watching the show yet (currently at the end of S2) but as far as I know of, correct me if I'm wrong though, the only "lab rats" related thing/gag is in the very first episode when Chase says "All we do is eat, sleep, and train for missions. We're like human lab rats" and then it cuts to Adam running on the wheel like a rodent/rat. So at least through Chase's comment, we can assume that the siblings view themselves as lab rats.

Another thing is how they were fed food pellets, and especially in which the manner they were originally given to them which was through a dispenser in their capsules (though we do see that they can eat them outside of their capsules as seen in "Death Spiral Smackdown") .

I'll be on the lookout for rat related things though as I continue to watch! If anyone else on here knows of anything else rat related in the show, let me know.

As for the term "lab rat" I do agree that typically it's a negative connotation, where it's associated with experiments and technology and cruel treatment. I think it fits for the Davenport siblings though since they are experimental human beings with not only their bionic chips, but a bunch of technology in the form of their bionic infrastructures shoved inside of them (like in the picture below depicts their bionic infrastructures relating to their main abilities). Most of the time we can also see that Chase has wiring inside of his head when it shows his bionic hearing, and not to mention the usb in his finger and that he has an entire computer system in his head.

And I know it isn't meant to be interpreted this way, but I do believe that it totally could be applied as a darker more negative meaning towards the Davenport siblings. The Adam, Bree, and Chase that we see in the show as bionic heroes weren't meant to exist that way. Douglas was going to raise them as bionic cyber-soldiers, weapons of mass destruction meant to do other peoples' dirty work and even capable of starting world wars. So we could think of them in a negative light that way, almost as "dirty" rats

[sagaduwyrm]

Here I am With All My Flaws (Seeking Form and Shelter)

Dick Grayson had half an hour left on his patrol before he could go home and go to sleep. Then Dante Nightingale and his siblings happened. And oh fuck, why is he so pretty. OR Dante Phantom has two deaged siblings to hide and Gotham is somehow the best option. The cute vigilante was a surprise though. The accidental murder is pretty par for the course.

Side Note: Does anyone know what the ship name for Dick/Dan is?

In his long years as a vigilante, Nightwing had learned one thing very well: Gotham did not know the meaning of the phrase “A quiet night.” In Gotham, a quiet easy night was the calm before the storm, the eerie stillness that preceded death and destruction.

Which was why he was pleasantly surprised to find his shift almost over and nothing worse than a few muggings and one stick-up to show for it.

Then again, this was the plan. Red Robin and Spoiler had the cult case, Robin was with Black Bat tracking down Dr. Freeze, Batman was out of town, and the Birds of Prey were working their way through a new crime family. Red Hood rarely discussed his plans with the other bats, but as far as Nightwing knew, Crime Alley was all normal operations at the moment, with only a minor intrusion by the Falcones for Hood’s men to deal with.

That left Nightwing with the simplest job of them all: petty crime. All he had to do was patrol the streets and make sure that the more minor criminals knew that even with all the wackos and bigshots running around, the bats still had more than enough hands to keep an eye on them too. A quiet, easy job, at least by bat standards. Just another half an hour, then Signal would take over for him and he could head back to the manor, get a quick shower in, snag some of Alfred’s cooking, and crash for the next eight hours.

A harsh crash echoed through the alleys beneath him, like flesh striking brick. Nightwing winced in sympathy and quickly tracked the sound to a nearby crevice.

A man was climbing his way back up to his feet, apparently the one to meet the wall with his backside. He looked skinny as a rake with ragged clothes and the symbol for one of the local gangs sewn onto his shoulder. He was laughing, short asthmatic huffs that were the hallmark of any Gothamite who’d had a too-close encounter with the Joker’s laughing gas and hadn't gotten proper treatment.

“A meta, huh? That won’t save you. We own these streets boy. We’ll own you too.”

Nightwing froze where he was crouching. He had already planned to wait until he understood what was going on, always a good practice when organized crime was involved, but with a meta in the mix, this could get bad. Even numbers on whether it’d be the meta or his opponents in trouble.

Dick turned sharp eyes on the other man in the alley. He was caught half in shadow, with broad shoulders and a sharp, strong jawline, messy hair tied back but swaying gently, flickering like fire. In any other circumstances, Nightwing might have tried to flirt with him. He’d always been a sucker for the sort that looked like they could break him in half.

"Stay. The Fuck. Away. From. Them," the taller man snarled.

Fuck, even his voice was sexy. It was deep and rich, with an eerie undertone like a roaring fire, marking another box in the meta-or-inhuman checklist.

The goon was still giggling. “Ooh, big scary man with a big scary voice. Not going to save you. Hand over the brats or watch them die, fuckhead. We’ll even—” he cut himself off with a sharp cackle. “We’ll even give you a cut of the profits, how about that?”

Every piece of electronics within ten yards shrieked and began throwing up sparks. Nightwing swore and jumped to dodge a falling air conditioning unit, thankful for the layers of magical and non-magical protection on his own electronic gear. He swiftly kicked the now-on-fire unit onto cement, pulling out the pellets of fire extinguisher foam from his utility belt.

When he looked back down into the alley, the meta had the fool by the throat, dangling him a foot above the ground where he thrashed frantically. The meta's eyes were glowing the color of congealed blood.

“You think you can sell my siblings? In this city? ” The man had a very sharp set of fangs, Dick noted, ones that didn’t seem to exist entirely in the physical plane. Mainly, there were too many of them and they were too long to fit in his mouth. Nightwing was sure they hadn’t been there twenty seconds ago. “Try it,” the meta snarled. “If the bats don’t get you, the Red Hood will. If he doesn’t get you, I will.”

The goon had frozen sometime during his speech but was now struggling fiercely, with an almost insane desperation in his eyes. He thrashed and yanked, while the man watched with disgusted derision, apparently unimpressed with the previously willful man’s terror. Nightwing snorted a little under his breath and went to make his way down and break things up before they could go too far. He needed to arrest the perp and interrogate him about his gang’s business. Just because this man could clearly protect himself and his family didn’t mean everyone in Gotham could.

The scrawny man got his foot up and kicked at the other’s torso. The man didn’t flinch, but his fingers did clench around the criminal’s neck in surprise. The meta had claws , Nightwing suddenly realized. Sharp ones.

They went straight through the goon's neck, severing arteries that started spraying blood like a fire hydrant. The idiot was dead before he hit the ground.

The two of them, the vigilante and the murderer, stared at the body in mute shock for a long moment.

Finally, Nightwing dug some words out of the hole in his chest. “Did you just kill him on accident ?” His words held more than a tinge of disbelief. Even in Gotham, or especially in Gotham, murder tended to hold a bit more intentionality behind it. 

The man looked up at him, no surprise visible at the vigilante’s presence, but plenty of other emotions crowding his face. Annoyance and exasperation, startlement, bad-tempered fury, and intense stress competed for room in his body language.

“If I meant to kill him,” he spoke slowly, in the same way that the build-up before a volcanic eruption was slow. “He’d be a bloody smear on the wall. I don’t do overkill. Why the fuck—”

he cut himself off with a growl, seeming to struggle for words. “That amount of pressure wouldn’t put a scratch on my siblings. I didn’t expect—” he gestured towards the body, flicking the blood off his claws with a sharp movement— “ that .”

Nightwing gave a hum, carefully cleaning up his body language so the other man wouldn’t be able to read the shock and wariness in it. If the meta’s siblings were similarly endowed and he wasn’t used to interacting with normal humans, that would make accidentally tearing a man’s throat out plausible. It didn’t make it okay though, and the way the man used the phrase ‘bloody smear on the wall’ had Nightwing's hackles up. His hand inched towards the button on his belt that would call for backup.

The meta’s head jerked to the side and his eyes, still steadily glowing red, widened, causing Nightwing to jump. A door set into the apartment building across the alley opened with a rusty creak where the man was looking. Two children levered their heads out the door, peering down the alley with sharp, clever eyes that looked just like the meta’s. They couldn’t have been older than five or six.

Their eyes widened with delight when they caught sight of what must have been their older brother. 

“Tay!” they shrieked. They hurtled down the alleyway, leaping at their brother from a distance that made Nightwings breath catch. The man spun in place to catch them, kicking the corpse behind a nearby pile of trash in the same movement.

“Tay! The food started boiling over and I know you said not to touch it but I did because it looked really bad and Danny said I should’ve just turned the stove off but I know you stir it whenever—”

The boy shoved his sister’s face to the side, cutting her off. “I told her she should have just turned it off but she tried to stir it and it splashed on her and she iced it! The whole thing! And I couldn’t get it to melt!”

The meta’s harsh expression melted into exasperated fondness, and he slipped his grasp down to the kids’ ankles, throwing them over his shoulder’s to their delighted shrieks. His claws didn’t pierce their skin.

It was a little easier to understand why he was so ready to murder with the kids right there. They were tiny .

Dick took a deep breath, fighting to get his body to relax into something less battle-ready. He felt his shoulders tense back up though as all three meta’s swung glowing gazes up to his perch.

Blood red, lazarus green, and cyan blue. All mildly alarming colors to see in glowing eyes. Dick was unsure whether it helped or not that, now that he could see the man’s full face, his sharp glare was uncomfortably attractive.

“Tay,” the girl leaned in to whisper in her brother’s ear. Of course, it was a five-year-old’s idea of a whisper, so Nightwing could still hear it. “We aren’t supposed to let the bats know. They’ll make us leave .” She looked very solemnly at his brother after disclosing this information.

Nightwing cleared his throat, determinedly not thinking about the goon who just lost his throat or about the beautifully soft expression the meta graced his sister with. “You really should leave. Gotham isn’t a safe place for any kid, but especially not metas.”

“We aren’t—” the girl’s face scrunched up and her brother slapped her hand over his mouth, before burying his face in their eldest brother’s back.

The man looked back at Nightwing, a hint of a snarl on his face. “You think we’d be here if we had any other options? This city is the only one that will hide us.”

Nightwing’s gaze sharpened. “Hide you from what?”

The man scoffed. “None of your business, Knight of Gotham.”

Nightwing examined him carefully. He was inclined to believe that anyone who so clearly cared about his little sibling couldn’t be all bad. Not to mention, Gotham had all sorts of weird energy fields going on and a strong hostility toward outsiders. The city truly might have been their best chance at hiding from whoever it was whose memory had the younger siblings curling up into themselves and the elder brother broadening his stance as if in preparation for a fight.

Still, Nightwing didn’t like the idea of someone with the man’s power sticking around in Gotham with no one keeping an eye on him, both for his sake and others. Luckily, he had an idea.

“Look. There is a reason we keep metas out of this city. But,” he painted a winning smile on his face and raised a hand to forestall any protests. “We aren’t going to kick you out if Gotham is really your best option.” Well, he said we, but really he was making the decisions here. Batman would just have to deal.

The man’s eyes narrowed. “What are you suggesting?”

“Red Hood’s territory is barely five minutes from here.” Nightwing paused, thinking of his younger brother with pride. “And he would fistfight God to protect his people.”

The siblings winced and the younger boy, now on the ground, peaked around his brother to talk with Nightwing. “We don’t want to intru—” he paused, struggling to pronounce a word for a moment, “ intrude in his ter-ri-tor-y.” The boy beamed after getting the full, clearly practiced, phrase out.

Nightwing cocked his head. That wasn’t a no, just a concern. “It’ll be fine,” he said cheerfully. “Look, I’ll call him right now, and we can get you moved over to somewhere I won’t have to constantly check to see if you’ve been kidnapped from by tonight.” Tonight being in twelve hours or so, because somehow it was nearly dawn, and Dick really wanted to be in bed right now but he wasn’t just going to leave this obnoxiously gorgeous man and his siblings. Who knows what trouble they would find? It took a special kind of bad luck to accidentally kill a gang member .

He pulled his phone out of his belt and pulled up Jason’s contact. Hood would be happy to shelter the family, even if he would probably be a bit twitchy about having metas with unknown capabilities in Gotham. Still, better to have them where they could keep an eye on them and hopefully get the chance to earn their trust.

“Hey, Hood?”

“What do you want, Dickhead?” Jason grumbled back at him. He sounded grumpier than normal, and Dick made a mental note to try to figure out if he’d been injured recently.

“I have a family of metas here that need to stay in Gotham, but they’ve already gotten in fights with one gang. Mind if they move into your territory?” Dick purposely used the same word the boy had earlier so they knew he was checking on their concerns.

“How many?”

“Three!” Dick turned to the kids. “Can you tell Hood how old you are so he knows who to expect?” “I’m Danny and that’s Ellie. We’re five.” The child tilted his head as if in confusion. “I think.”

Dick blinked in mild alarm at that. Lots of kids didn’t know how old they were, but something about how Danny phrased that made his inner detective concerned. He looked at their older brother.

The man grunted. “Dante. I’m twenty-three. Probably.” Something amused sparked in Dante’s eyes at the bewildered look Nightwing gave him, and he drawled out, “Murphy’s Law.”

This did not assuage Dick’s concern or really explain anything.

Jason stayed silent for a moment, before sighing. “Fine. I’ve got an apartment they can stay at. I’ll text you the address and we can talk rent later.”

“Thanks, Hood!” Nightwing bounced cheerily on his toes, mindful of the kid’s wide eyes on him. He was probably not setting the best example standing on a rusty railing, but the theatrics tended to help keep civilians, especially kids, calm.

Hood spoke again, “You’re responsible for getting them moved in and checking on them until they get used to my men, Dick.”

“Sure.” Dick smiled at the thought. It would give him an excuse to do something he was going to do anyway. He didn’t plan to let go of the many concerning things the family had mentioned. It had absolutely nothing to do with his teeny tiny crush on the beautiful meta who moved like a predatory jungle cat and loved his siblings so much he practically glowed with it.

“Talk to you later Hood!”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck off asshole.” As he hung up Dick thought that that had gone better than many of his previous conversations with his little brother.

Crimson eyes were still straight on him, and something about the set of Dante’s shoulders screamed caution. “This is freely given?”

Dick blinked. “What?”

“Your aid,” Dante clarified. “It’s freely given. No strings attached?”

That was the sort of language magic-users tended to use. Dick considered his words carefully. “You are in Gotham. Everything in Gotham is mine and my family’s to protect. If the best way to protect you is for you to stay in Gotham,” an honestly insane idea, but they knew their situation best. “I will help you stay in Gotham safely. So yes. My aid is freely given.”

The meta(?) hummed. “Danny, Ellie, go grab our go bags.” The kids nodded and ran back into the building.

Dick’s heartstrings tugged at the idea that everything they needed could be grabbed so quickly, but his gaze was dragged back to the eldest meta.

Something was different about him. Something in the air, the weight and mass of it pressing on Nightwing's shoulders. Something in his shadow, too dark and too deep. Something in the glow of his eyes…

Nightwing had never seen that shade of red before, he realized suddenly. He was almost certain it wasn’t supposed to exist.

“If you cause my siblings any harm,” Dante looked him straight in the eyes and Dick felt oddly frozen despite all his experience that said he should be able to handle this. “I will peel the flesh from your bones and use your entrails to hang your body from the rafters of your family home.” Dick blinked, finally unfrozen, and smiled brilliantly, the way that made seasoned Gotham rogues take a step back. “Understood.” Dante looked at him with something like respect. “I’ll go make sure they haven’t caused any explosions. We’ll be ready in ten."

He swept out, and Dick let himself collapse against a wall.

He really needed to get himself under control. Being attracted to people who could (and would) kill you wasn’t a good thing for a vigilante, even if Batman made it seem normal.

[omahamedspa]

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[kaywavy]

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[fourteen--steps]

I think I'm gonna lose Pestilence, I don't even know why. He was a little lethargic for a few days and had the barest hint of popeye maybe? Then this morning he was severely pineconed and has started pooping blood. Still fairly alert, definitely ate last night and I think this morning too. I started everyone on medicated pellets two days ago when I suspected the popeye. Currently have him in an epsom salt/kanaplex bath, and tbh probably going to continue with the pellets. But yeesh I've never had a fish pass blood before so that's kinda scary. Can't get ahold of the vet cause it's Saturday so I'm on my own for now...

Fun part is I also woke up sick this morning so trying to work out a treatment plan while my head wants to explode is lots of fun.

[clowneryranch]

Reminder that feeding a mime anything other than fresh meat IS abuse. They are carnivores and require fresh meat and I'm sick and tired of seeing people try to feed their mimes fancy vegan stuff. They don't deserve that treatment and need to be fed properly. They have sharp teeth for a reason. Don't even get me started on the disgusting behavior of people feeding tragics pellets or dry foods marketed to them. So many people get the tragic dry food just because it's dyed black and claims to be healthy. It is not. It's full of corn and additives that are only fitting for railroad clown consumption. If they're fed dry food, they need iron and niacin supplements and their blood pressure will lower, not even mentioning the increased risk of blood clots and heart problems that has been scientifically proven to be linked to dry food marketed to tragic clowns.

[0rgell]

Kitty - JongTae Oneshot

Masterlist

Pairing: Jonghyun x Taemin

Genre: hybrids, cat/human hybrid, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Word Count: 2.6k words

You can also find this story on: AO3

---

Summary:

Taemin's a jealous kitty and Jonghyun is clueless. Or Jonghyun and Taemin, a human and his hybrid companion, navigate a misunderstanding that leads to jealousy and tension in their relationship. Taemin, a cat hybrid, becomes upset when Jonghyun returns home smelling like another cat, leading to a silent treatment that lasts for four days. Jonghyun, unaware of the reason for Taemin's anger, struggles with the sudden distance between them.

---

Kitty

Taemin is mad at Jonghyun. Jonghyun knows this because he’s been refusing to be in the same room as him for four days straight. When Jonghyun goes into the lounge, Taemin leaves the bookshelf and goes into the bathroom to lie on the towel shelf. It’s been like this for four days, and Jonghyun doesn’t even know what he’s done wrong . If he asks (which he has), Taemin just looks at him and strolls away, swaying his tail as he leaves Jonghyun hurt and confused. 

If Taemin would just tell Jonghyun, he’d be able to fix his mistake, but Taemin won’t tell him. On the first day, Jonghyun thought maybe the other just needed some space to be independent or do hybrid things that Jonghyun wouldn’t understand or be able to take part in. But then the second day rolled around, and he still wasn’t talking to him, making him nervous. The third day just made Jonghyun miserable; he missed the hybrid’s presence, and the space on his chest was left cold without his kitty to nuzzle it. And today, the fourth day, Jonghyun’s about to break down; he’s concluded that whatever it is that he’s done to upset Taemin must be a pretty big deal. And when he finds out what it is, he won’t do it again. He’s in hell. He just wants his beautiful hybrid to come and sit on his lap, cuddle him, groom him, or kiss him. 

All Jonghyun can do now is wait it out, wait until he’s loved again. So he tries to do his normal day-to-day activities to take his mind off of his loneliness. He decides to busy himself and dust the bookshelf first to see if maybe Taemin will talk to him, but as soon as he gets there, Taemin is off like a rocket with a low grumble. 

Fine. Whatever. Jonghyun doesn’t deserve this treatment; it’s unfair. It’s cruel, and it’s causing a heavy weight in his chest and an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He begins to take all his books off the shelves, with more brunt than he normally would, and chucks them on the sofa like a stroppy child. He takes his dust mitten and wipes the shelf with vigour, singing a happy song to himself—although he’s the opposite of happy—very quietly because he doesn’t want to disturb Taemin. 

He gets so into his cleaning that he doesn’t even notice the light sounds of tiny paws getting closer and closer to him. Once finished, he turns around to pick up the books, only to find Taemin lying on them. Jonghyun has two questions, how is that comfortable? When did Taemin come in? 

And another because he’s confused, does this mean Taemin is no longer angry at him?

He’ll only find out when he has to move the kitty off the books, but he’s dreading finding out because he doesn’t want Taemin to be angry at him anymore. Quietly, he picks up the books surrounding his kitty and places them back on the shelves, only quietly muttering sad words of despair when he sees some of the corners of the books have been bent and then reprimanding himself for being so careless in his miserable state. But now he’s at an impasse, Taemin is still sleeping. The books that he’s not sleeping on have all been put away. 

A long sigh falls from Jonghyun’s lips as he walks close to the tiny pellet of violence. This could go one of two ways. Taemin could lash out at him, or he could just melt into his arms. He hopes for the latter; he’s doubtful. Carefully, he places both hands on either side of Taemin’s fluffy belly and lifts. 

Taemin’s body curls in on itself, and a loud yowl is belted from the small lungs as Taemin struggles, disorientated and angry. His claws dig into Jonghyun’s arms, scratching him, and then suddenly he stops. His bright green eyes focus on Jonghyun, and Jonghyun has to try his best to put a smile on his face. It’s a real one; it might look awkward, but the situation is awkward. Taemin’s lying in his hands, limp, with his warm belly—the warm belly Jonghyun hasn’t been able to touch in days, his claws still in Jonghyun’s forearm, and Taemin hasn’t looked him in the eyes in days either. 

Jonghyun waits. He waits to see what Taemin is going to do next, and quite frankly, he is shitting it; he wants this one-sided argument to be over. Or at least for him to be told what he’s done wrong. 

Taemin rolls again, using his claws in Jonghyun’s forearms to pull himself up to a stable hold, and then he bites into Jonghyun’s bicep, not hard, not breaking the skin; it's not angry or malicious either. Jonghyun can tell what this is. It’s what Taemin has told him about many times, shown him many times; it's a love bite. Once the other unlatches his teeth, he slips out of Jonghyun’s grip onto the floor and looks up at him with his big eyes and tail swaying from side to side. Jonghyun knows what he’s saying. Hurry up . But Jonghyun doesn’t know what Taemin wants him to hurry up with or what Taemin wants him to do. So he just stands there for a second, dumbfounded and shocked, and a little bit emotional as well, but he won’t admit that. He stands there and stares until Taemin starts grooming himself. He’s growing impatient; that’s what that tells Jonghyun. He doesn’t want to do the wrong thing; he turns to get the books and looks over to see Taemin still sitting there, waiting for him. With haste, he puts all the books away and then sees Taemin walking away. He follows like a lost puppy.  

He follows until they end up in the kitchen, where Taemin shifts—the first time Jonghyun has seen him in human form for days—and slides on an oversized jumper that just reaches the middle of his thighs. Jonghyun has missed his long, fluffy auburn hair as well. The moment of Jonghyun taking in Taemin’s beauty is cut short; as quickly as Taemin comes into his sight, he’s gone. Flying out of the room only to come back a minute later after leaving Jonghyun to be dumbfounded again. Jonghyun eyes the hybrid's hand and sees a first aid kit. Immediate panic washes over him as he takes it out of Taemin's hand and checks him all over. Well, he tries. Taemin is extremely ticklish when quick grabby hands touch him, so Jonghyun tries to find the wound on a very wiggly Taemin. He stops and looks at Taemin. “Where are you hurt?” he says, serious tones lacing his voice and a crease in his brow.

Taemin snorts, “I’m not the one that’s got a scratch at the moment.” He says, and then kicks a chair out from the table and says: “Sit.” 

Jonghyun knows better than to protest, so he does as he’s told and sits without hesitation. It does make sense that he’s bleeding. Taemin’s attack was quite vicious, but he was quite abrupt when picking Taemin up in mid-air while he was asleep. Taemin tuts as he lowers himself down to get a better look at the cuts, and then gets to work.

“Taeminie,” Jonghyun says with caution as he uses his free hand to pet Taemin’s hair. 

Taemin only makes a noise, half satisfied and half a reply.

“Will you talk about it now?”

“Jonghyun.” The hybrid says his name exasperatedly.

“Taemin.”

“Fine…”

Jonghyun waits on the edge of his chair while Taemin worries his lip. 

“Well… The other day, when you said you were going to meet Kibum, you came back smelling like another cat. Not like Minho or Jinki. And Minho is a squirrel, and Jinki is a rabbit, so don’t say you smelt like either of them. I can tell the difference!” The hybrid finished with a stubborn tilt of his jaw and a huff, moving his hair out of his eyes.

Jonghyun almost laughs. Almost. This situation could have been so easily fixed if Taemin had said this from the start. He takes a deep breath to calm himself down and starts by saying, “Taemin.” Another deep breath. “Kibum adopted a new hybrid.”

Taemin’s face scrunches up, and his tail whips from side to side, hitting the kitchen floor harshly. “You didn’t tell me. Kibum didn’t tell me, nor did Jinki or Minho. Why was I left out?” 

“I did tell you—”

“No, you didn’t!” Taemin reprimands Jonghyun, cutting him off.

“Taemin, I did .”

“When?”

“When you were rearranging the books around your cosy space on the bookshelf because you said the book covers annoy you now and you want to change it up,” Jonghyun explains, feeling on edge for being accused of not doing something he most definitely did.

The look Taemin gives Jonghyun tells him he’s being stupid.

“I was focused! You know not to tell me important stuff when I’m rearranging my cosy places!” 

That’s true… But the point is that Jonghyun did tell Taemin; he also knows there’s no point in arguing with the hybrid because he’s ready for this to be over and he’s missed talking to him. However, Taemin’s reaction also tells Jonghyun that there is no room for another hybrid in his apartment . The thought of getting another hybrid has been floating around his mind; he’s been worried that Taemin gets lonely during the day when he’s at work. Also, Kibum has suggested it more than once. Kibum has three hybrids now; they’re all really happy. Jonghyun has thought more and more about getting another hybrid, especially recently. Especially seeing how much Jinki loves Minho, and whenever Taemin and him go to Kibum's, Taemin always has so much fun. Actually, Jonghyun has been feeling guilty for not getting another hybrid to keep Taemin company. 

But Taemin’s jealousy points in the opposite direction of getting another hybrid. With Taemin being only twenty-three Jonghyun should expect jealous behaviour. After all, cat hybrids age slower; he’s practically still a kitten. He’s still not over the teenage territorial stage. And that’s fine. Getting another hybrid was only for Taemin’s happiness, and Taemin seems fulfilled by seeing Jinki and Minho every fortnight.

“I know. I’m sorry, Taeminie.”

“You’re done.”

“What?”

Taemin gets off his knees and looks at Jonghyun, confused, as he picks up the wrappers from the first aid kit and walks them to the bin. Jonghyun eventually catches on. He smiles at Taemin and whispers a small thank you, and Taemin shrugs, humming as he walks out of the room, leaving Jonghyun alone again. At least the issue has been sorted out. 

At least now, when Jonghyun walks into the living room, Taemin doesn’t leave. Instead, Taemin smiles at him from the sofa and pats the space next to his head, inviting Jonghyun. This is the best. Jonghyun gets the best feeling in his stomach, all bubbly and soft, as he sits next to his hybrid, and they rest their head on his lap. Taemin looks so small and cute like this; a pretty face, adorable fluffy ears, a beautiful nose, and soft lips. Jonghyun’s hand finds its way to Taemin’s long hair and starts carding his fingers through slowly, taking his time from the scalp to the sparser, frizzier ends. Taemin doesn’t want to cut the ends because he’s been growing them since he was a kitten. He prides himself on his long hair, and Jonghyun thinks it's cute. Jonghyun understands, though; he knows how he can get with things he’s treasured for a long time. And it’s not like Taemin’s hair is dead. Well, just a little, but the point is that it’s not bad. It’s still shiny and loved, so that’s all that matters.

Taemin lays still for a while, only quiet purs coming from him while looking deep in thought, until he says, “What’s their name?”

Jonghyun continues to pet Taemin’s hair. He’s just happy at the moment, not really thinking about anything. “Who’s name?”

“The new hybrid.” Taemin softly says this as he brings his tail into his lap and strokes it rather quickly.

“Ten, his name is Ten.”

“Ten must’ve liked you a lot.” 

Some may say jealousy is an ugly trait; Jonghyun thinks it's pretty on Taemin. He knows he should talk to Taemin about how he’s allowed to interact with other hybrids, and the other shouldn’t get jealous because, at the end of the day, Jonghyun is always going to come home to Taemin; he’s always going to love Taemin. But instead of giving a serious talk, he opts for scratching behind Taemin’s ear and smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.

“Ten was very excited. You’d like him, and I bet you’d enjoy playing with him as well. He’s the same size as you, so you can play more roughly than you do with Jinki and Minho. Kibumie is already talking about you two meeting.” Jonghyun explains hoping that Taemin would like to meet the new addition to Kibum’s family.

Taemin’s eyebrows furrow, and he bites his lip. “Is he pretty?”

Jonghyun laughs because that’s got nothing to do with what he just said.

“Not as pretty as you,” his smile bleeds into his voice, permeating a reassuring tone.

Taemin’s cheeks rise and turn a little pink, his eyes close contently, and he hums, “Good.”

“Huh, what’s good?” Jonghyun asks, leaning over Taemin’s face and sporting a bright smile. His hands have now moved from Taemin’s hair and are resting on either side of Taemin’s face.

"Just, you know... Stuff,” Taemin shrugs.

Jonghyun's heart beats faster as he observes Taemin's adorable display of jealousy. Unable to contain himself any longer, he leans in, his lips gently touching Taemin's. The kiss, is full of a mix of longing and affection. It's the moment Jonghyun’s been waiting for. Waiting for four days. Jonghyun hopes that’s the most reassuring.

As Jonghyun pulls away, he looks into Taemin's eyes, which are now open and reflecting a mix of surprise and contentment. Taemin's lips curl into a small smile, and he lets out a soft sigh, his body relaxing further into Jonghyun's lap. 

"I missed you," Jonghyun whispers, his voice barely above a breath.

Taemin's smile widens, and he nods, "I missed you too."

They sit in comfortable silence for a while, Jonghyun gently stroking Taemin's hair and ears, while Taemin's purrs fill the room. It's a peaceful moment that they both needed after the misunderstanding that caused a rift between them.

After some time, Taemin sits up, his expression turning thoughtful. "Maybe we should go see Kibum and Ten... And the others," he suggests, his voice hesitant but curious.

Jonghyun's eyebrows raise in surprise. "Are you sure? I thought you were worried about—"

"I was," Taemin cuts him off, "but I trust you. And if you say Ten is nice, then I want to meet him. Maybe it'll be fun to have a new friend."

Jonghyun's heart swells with affection for his hybrid, he knows it must’ve been hard to say that. "That sounds like a great idea. I'll call Kibum and set something up."

Taemin nods, a playful glint in his eye. "But you have to promise me one thing."

"Anything," Jonghyun replies without hesitation.

“You have to promise that you'll always come home to me. No matter what."

Jonghyun leans in and kisses Taemin's forehead. "I promise. You're my home, Taeminie. Always."

Taemin's smile is radiant, and he snuggles back into Jonghyun's lap, his purrs louder than before. Jonghyun wraps his arms around Taemin, holding him close.

---

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Stay happy and healthy

Orgel 🌸

--- I've made a twitter feel free to talk to me 💓 twitter