#they only stop when death and misery come super near them like family is that the line?

[justaholeinmysoul]

Science: there's draught as u can see from The FOOTAGE there is no water and u gotta prepare for bad times

News: how sad no more parfumes and no skiing :((( what else is water for

My boomer mother and her friends not seeing snow since 1980: it sure will snow, I see no issues, this summer we're gonna build a swimming pool and wash cars

Me: 👁 👁 - - 👁 👁

[amethyst-wind-uk]

Reading IDW’s 2018 Sonic the Hedgehog comic (specifically the Metal Virus saga) has given me new respect for Cream the Rabbit.

TL;DR - Cream the Rabbit is a fuckin’ legend and deserves to have respect put on her name. She goes through some heavy shit.

Spoilers below. It’s a long post so be warned.

Cream the Rabbit, first introduced in Sonic Advance 2, has never really been a character I was particularly concerned with. She was basically introduced to give Amy Rose/Blaze the Cat a sidekick a la Tails with Sonic. She’s got very obvious Japanese influences on her design (she’s quiet, polite, selfless and demure - traits that are supposedly indicative of a ‘good Japanese woman’). She’s also just six years old, and kid characters are hit-and-miss at the best of times.

However, when reading the Metal Virus saga, I saw her get some really good characterisation that DOESN’T clash with what’s already been established.

~

Issue 18 - The first words out of her mouth are a stammer. She’s scared, because she’s six years old and there are zombots (Metal Virus-infected people who are indestructible and act like mindless zombies) in her village. The very NEXT words out of her mouth is a desire for her to go help her neighbours who are in trouble. When her mother shoots that down, she immediately suggests sending her superpowered robot protector (Gemerl - whose ONLY concern is keeping Cream safe) to help others.

Gemerl ends up fighting Sonic, because the latter is himself infected by the Metal Virus and has been using his super speed to keep it at bay. Gemerl won’t let him near Cream because of the infection, and is fullly willing to kill Sonic if he doesn’t back off. Sonic eventually does back down and runs off to burn off some virus. Gemerl then turns the missiles he’d been aiming at Sonic on the zombots.

Upon seeing him do this, Cream immediately leaves her barricaded home to get him to stop, saying that the infected are victims and that he has to treat them like such, using non-lethal methods only.

It doesn’t end up working, and the zombots breach the house and cause Cheese and Chocola (the chao pets of Cream and her mother Vanilla respectively) to become infected in defence of their owners. Vanilla grabs Cream and runs, while Cream is crying out for Cheese and Chocola to come with her (they refuse, because they know they’ll infect her if they do).

Their escape is blocked by more zombots, but Sonic and Gemerl create a path for them. Sonic directs Cream to fly Vanilla out (Cream can fly by flapping her ears), asking her to ‘be brave’ despite all that’s happening, and she manages it. Six years old and has the fortitude and will to be brave while their home is being destroyed and members of her family are becoming infected with what at-that-point was considered a death sentence. There is no known cure for the virus in issue 18. All infected are considered lost.

~

Issue 20 - Back at Restoration (the good guys) HQ, Sonic is waiting outside while they get him a safe way in where his infected ass won’t trouble the refugees they’re holding inside.

Cream is the one who greets him at the door, and leads him through the safe path. And she does it with a smile. When Sonic asks her if it’s past her bedtime, she readily acknowledges it, but says that Vanilla lets her stay up to help out (showing she’s very aware of the dire circumstances, and that it’s not normal for a six year old to be asked to do as much as she’s doing). She also reveals that she’s essentially scared to go to sleep, as she keeps having nightmares of seeing Cheese and Chocola get infected.

Cream and Sonic walk along a high catwalk, looking down at the gathered refugees, who all look miserable. Cream verbally confirms that everyone’s in a bad way, scared and sad and crammed together. She knows she can’t do much to help, but she’s resolved to remain outwardly happy to give the refugees something good to distract them from the general misery of the situation.

This six year old girl is trying to be happier than the entire world is sad, just to lift the spirits of a room full of people she doesn’t even know. Cream knows she’s not a fighter, so she’s doing all she can to help. She’s putting on a brave face, even though she is herself feeling miserable inside. She’s six, people should be doing that FOR HER, not the other way around.

~

Issue 22 - This is a continuation of issue 20, as they’re still at the Restoration HQ (Cream is, at least. Sonic has left again to run off the infection and try to help others still out there). Cream basically repeats the conversation she had with Sonic with Amy Rose (who is leading the Restoration). Amy is visibly worn down from running on no sleep and constant stress, so Cream brings her tea to keep her awake.

When Amy asks her how she can remain sunny and upbeat, Cream again admits (with tears in her eyes) that it’s not easy. She’s scared, she knows her mother is scared, she knows everybody’s scared, but she’s trying. She even says she’s taken Sonic’s instruction to ‘be brave’ to heart.

Leaving Amy to her work, Cream heads back to the overhead catwalk, and looks down on the refugees, who are even more crowded in now. Since nobody’s watching her, her face instantly falls into worry as she recognises the reality of the situation.

Vector and Espio show up at this point, with a contained-but-infected Charmy Bee. Gemerl wants to throw them out, but Cream flies down from the catwalk to again intercede. The INSTANT she’s down amongst others again, there’s a permanent smile on her face. Every panel that shows her face shows her as happy and hopeful, despite being anything but a moment before.

Unfortunately, an infected has managed to get into the base. This infected person isn’t mindless yet, but they are very scared.

As you’d expect, the situation almost immediately goes to hell. The infected refugee becomes a zombot and starts infecting others. The panicked crush causes Charmy to get loose and also start infecting others, Espio hits the alarm, and Amy has to call for a complete evacuation of Restoration HQ.

THIS is the moment where Cream can’t pretend anymore. Gemerl grabs her and flies up above the crush. Cream is no longer smiling, she’s openly crying and calling out for her mother.

Cream and Gemerl get separated. He’s taking on a zombot, while she’s flying around in a panic trying to find Vanilla. Amy orders Gemerl to get to the shuttle and hold off anyone infected who tries to get inside (Gemerl can scan everyone to detect infection - the only reason he didn’t catch the infected was that he was dealing with Vector and Charmy) while she gets Cream.

Cream’s still in tears at this point, still flying, but she spots her mother and dives straight for her.

Vanilla, who can’t fly, is currently physically holding off a zombot, and is visibly infected. She hears Cream coming, and begs Amy to get her daughter to safety.

Amy complies, intercepting Cream before she can reach Vanilla (who just thanks Amy for it, right in front of Cream).

Cream has given up all pretense at this point, fighting in Amy’s arms while begging anyone who’ll listen to go back for her mother. It’s only when Amy does what Cream’s been doing all saga, putting on a smile and a brave face for her, that she allows herself to be led to a seat on the shuttle. She doesn’t appear for the rest of the issue.

~

Issue 24 - Cream shows up again during an evacuation of Tangle the Lemur’s village, still helping by flying uninfected to safety, but she’s no longer smiling. She looks sad, and tired, and defeated and broken.

When the situation calms a little, and she’s greeted by Sonic, she doesn’t even look at him. Her expression is exactly the same as when she was flying, and she just walks right past Sonic with her head down, barely eking out an acknowledgement of him.

Amy whispers what happened to Sonic, both of them wearing haunted expressions.

Have I mentioned that Cream is six years old?

Tangle ends up staying behind to buy everyone else time to escape, having been infected, and this causes Whisper the Wolf (who very clearly loves Tangle) to fly into a panic, and she has to be dragged onto the shuttle by force. Once it takes off, Whisper is in a full-on breakdown, weeping and crying loudly.

And Cream is comforting her. She, still wearing her broken expression, is sitting with Whisper’s head in her lap, patting her gently as the wolf despairs.

Whisper (and Tangle) are roughly the same age as most of the main characters. They’re teenagers. Cream is six. And she is the one comforting Whisper. Even now, she’s being that person.

~

Issue 25 - The remainng survivors have made it to Angel Island, to regroup. Eggman, Metal Sonic, and Starline appear out of nowhere from a portal (Starline had brought in the Deadly Six to help control the zombots, but had been betrayed by them and forced to escape). The good guys, inside the evacuation shuttle, reluctantly demand that Eggman help them cure the virus.

We cut to outside the shuttle, where Eggman’s face is dead-center in Whisper’s crosshairs.

The very next panel is Cream walking in front of Whisper’s sights, to block the shot. She holding Omega’s head, which is all that’s left of him. She politely, but lifelessly, asks (not demands, asks) Whisper not to shoot Eggman. Because it’s necessary right now. She doesn’t make any moral claim about killing, she just recognises that Eggman’s smarts will be useful to undo everything HE did. She knows it’s his fault, and she hates him, but she knows that they need him right now, and stands in front of her ally’s gun-barrel because of it.

And this is where Cream demonstrates that, for all her maturity, she is a child.

And she is hurting.

Tears in her eyes and having lost her entire family, she stares down Whisper, a combat veteran ten years older than her.

And when Whisper’s own grief overtakes her again, Cream moves in to hug her.

~

Issue 26 - The heroes finally manage to plan a counter attack, going after the Deadly Six (who control the zombots and each possess a Chaos Emerald), to allow Sonic and Silver to go Super, and do something about the Metal Virus once and for all.

Gemerl is tasked with going after Zeena, and he says goodbye to Cream before he goes through the portal. Cream protests that she wants to help too. Gemerl tells her it’s too dangerous. Cream plays along for a few moments, then charges into the portal first. Gemerl races after her.

When they land in front of Zeena, Cream LETS LOOSE. She has had enough, and is full-on ready to fight at this point. She’s openly angry, which she hasn’t been yet in the entire saga. She basically channels Inigo Montoya, while still somehow remaining polite.

~

Issue 27 - Zeena uses her metal-controlling powers to quickly turn Gemerl against Cream, directing the robot to go after Cream.

Even as he’s advancing on her, Cream still doesn’t look worried and remains mostly annoyed. She stands her ground and essentially CHALLENGES Gemerl to break out of Zeena’s mind control because she knows how strong he is.

And it works. When Gemerl busts his own wireless receiver to prevent Zeena’s control signal from reaching him, Cream finally shows some relief.

Zeena then tries to control Gemerl directly. In response, Cream (who up until this point has allowed Gemerl and Cheese and others to fight for her) spin-dashes Zeena in a direct assault.

She then lets out all her frustration in a believably child-like way. She’s literally stamping her foot to try to break Zeena’s connection to Gemerl, while ranting at her.

Cream is a third Zeena’s size, and six. years. old. Zeena still has the zombots mob Gemerl while she physically assaults Cream, kicking her and twisting her arm behind her back and holding her by the ears so she can’t fly away as more zombots advance to infect Cream.

This causes Gemerl to break free long enough to get Zeena off Cream, and then the two of them work together to steal away the Chaos Emerald. Zeena, having lost its power, loses her control over the zombots, who swarm her.

Gemerl is holding Cream, who looks exhausted. She apologises to him, because in the chaos she ended up infected.

She hands the Chaos Emerald over to him.

Then, we’re ‘treated’ to a panel, one single panel, where she just looks terrified. She looks like the overwhelmed little girl she is. One panel, where she’s once again sending away her protector.

Finally, as she’s done all saga, she puts others first.

She knows Gemerl has to take the Chaos Emerald back through the portal to Sonic and the others, and tries to make him believe she’ll be fine. She once again echoes the words Sonic told her back when he first rescued her in Issue 18.

This little girl has kept Sonic’s words like a mantra for the entire saga, as everything got worse, as she lost loved one after loved one, as she took on the burdens of others in addition to her own, as she kept fighting and kept doing the right thing even at great cost to herself.

And she was still doing it to help others despite already having fallen to what was essentially a living death.

Gemerl, thankfully, doesn’t leave her alone. He chucks the Chaos Emerald through the portal, scoops her up, and flies away, promising to stay with her until she is well.

The last panel, where he says this, shows Cream curled in on herself, arms wrapped around her tiny frame. The Metal Virus already having spread over at least half of her.

~

Issue 29/30 - We don’t see Cream again until after Super Sonic and Super Silver purge the Metal Virus from the world. She tearfully reunites with her mother on Angel Isand.

Unfortunately, they are interrupted almost straight away by Zavok making one last ditch effort to cause harm.

Cream responds by shoving her mother out of harm’s way and screaming for Cheese to attack Zavok, which raises the general alarm and brings the rest of the heroes running to subdue him.

After Zavok is contained by Silver telekinetically holding him down, Gemerl discovers Orbot and Cubot in the wreckage, only to be run through from behind by Metal Sonic (again right in front of her).

They manage to stop Metal Sonic from taking Gemerl, but can’t stop his or Eggman’s escape with the other robots.

~

Issue 31/32 - Cream goes right back to being a happy child, having been reunited with her mother, Cheese, Chocola, and Gemerl. They help out Chaotix in their efforts to find missing persons after the chaos, before attending a party in Tangle’s village to celebrate the end of the disaster.

Eggman, naturally, attacks the party with an Omega-powered mech. Cream is one of the fliers who attacks the doctor directly in his cockpit, remaining in the thick of the fight for the entire duration.

After Sonic shows up and helps to drive off Eggman, Cream (and Cheese and Gemerl) happily joins in on the group hug as the saga finally comes to a close, beaming as the happy hero she is.

~

So yeah, respect Cream the Rabbit. As Sonic says just after telling her to be brave back in issue 18:

[doodle-empress66]

Hazbin Hotel: Perma Frost Full Bio

General

“It’s BULLSHIT that I’m down here! Stuck in this ugly ass form! I did the shit I did to SURVIVE! No one has ever watched out for me! So I watched out for myself the best way I knew how!”

- Perma Frost to Charlie

Full/True name: Petra  

Nickname(s) or Alias:  

Perma Frost, Perma

Perm

 The Killer Frost Demon

Kid (By Husk)

Ice Queen (By Angel)

Little Girlie (Niffty)

Young Miss (By Alastor)

Bruja de hielo (By Vaggie)

Gender: Female

Species: Human (formerly), Ice Demon

Age: 14

Birthday: Jan 6th 

Sexuality:   Autochorisexual-Aegoromantic

Nationality: Icelandic

City or town of birth: Vik, Iceland

Currently lives: The Outskirts of Pentagram City

Native language: Icelandic  

Relationship Status: Single  

Appearance  

Height: 5'5   

Figure/build: Slender, somewhat curvy build, with long, dark blue icicle-like fingers. Powder blue skin

Hair color: Light Blue (Normally),   Transparent light blue (when angered or frightened)

Hairstyle: Long and unruly  

Eye color: A glowing icy blue hue that shifts

Tattoos: A snowflake on her back    

Preferred style of clothing: ALWAYS wearing a large hooded jacket/coat that covers the entire top half of her body. Large black snow boats. And navy blue tights

General Past life  

Human Name: Petra (She renounced her last name)

Birthday: 6th Jan 2005

Age of Death: 14

Cause of Death: Froze to death/Blood loss

Death day: 23 Aug 2019

Personality 

Perma is an intense, cautious, volatile, and resentful teenager. She’ll do whatever it takes just to make it through the day regardless of who she has to harm or fight. She loathes adults and doesn’t trust them or their judgement, and always believes they're going to hurt her. Nor does she like being told what to do. So she often gets into a lot of fights with older demons, Perma will at times rush head first into a fight without thinking things through due to being blinded by her violent nature and past trauma. She has little to no friends or acquaintances because of the sheer brute force of her powers, somewhat lack of control and unwillingness to listen to people. Despite being unapproachable most of the time, deep down Perma wants a kind soul to turn to for love and guidance. But, pushes away this feeling due to the bad hand life and death has handed her. 

 History  

Born in Vik, Iceland in 2005, since she could walk; Petra knew nothing but misery and neglect. Abused and mistreated by her egg and sperm donor, growing up in a strange cult certainly didn't help little Petra. Forced to deal with going hungry and cold from the old shredded clothes she was forced to wear. As well as participating in her mother's questionable practices. Her family often took part in the ancient art of Icelandic witchcraft. Writing questionable symbols everywhere in the blood of animals they caught. Reading from old books with disturbing otherworldly images. Even carving up their own bodies as a sign of devotion to some strange dark entity. Petra didn't understand these events but knew only bad things could come from it.

Life didn’t get much better for the young Icelandic when she was set up to be a sacrifice in one of the cult's shamanic ceremonies, she managed to slip away and ran until she arrived at an old rundown village. Only 9 years old at the time. From there, the next 4 years were awful. Petra had to survive on scraps she found in the trash or steal food and clothing from unsuspecting villagers. Years on the street, being treated like dirt from those around her, a child no one wanted around, caused Petra to grow hateful to world and the vile people who inhabited it. No one had any concern for her. No one cared about her. Her life meant nothing to ANYBODY. So after that, the lives of others didn’t mean a damn thing to her.

At 11, Petra committed her first murder. She was low on scraps and slowly starving. Following a frail elderly woman with a bag full of food, Petra took out an ice pick she had swiped from some workers and drove it into the back of the woman’s head. 

Soon after, the dreaded streets Petra wandered were now becoming littered with the bodies of the people she stole from. Little did she realize, these malicious acts were changing in ways that were beyond human understanding. Something malevolent and cold started growing inside her body. Warping her soul.

Two years, this continued...until Petra chose the wrong target. A lanky young man, who looked a few years older than her, was smoking in an alley. Driven by survival, bloodlust and greed to what type of goods the man had on his person, Petra struck with her signature ice pick. Too bad, the man wasn’t unarmed. Nor was he alone. That’s all she remembered from that specific day. And how she wished she just kept walking.

The man was part of a group of sex traffickers looking around for young girls and women to add to their market. And 14 year old Petra was added to that collection.

The following year was a new level of Hell for the young girl. Beaten, abused, used in the most vile of ways by these men and others. Petra resisted at each turn but the suffering increased more and more. Then the vile concoction, meth they called it, they forced her to take each day. Told her that it would make her more “enjoyable company”. Some days and nights blurred into each other. This...drug made her forget the pain, the misery, the horrid existence she was subjected to. But reality came back full throttle to punch her in the face once it wore off. It made Petra feel disgusting and free at the same time. Just like the girls around her, empty shells with blissful smiles on their faces.

  She was right at the edge of just ending it, but the stubborn part of her refuse to give her tormentors the satisfaction. One night, while she was getting prepared for a client, Petra managed to break away and shank one of the guards with an icicle she snatched from outside of a window. That kill was easy, but the second guard managed to let out a shout before Petra rammed the spike into his eye.

Petra rushed out into the winter forest, away from the building she was held captive. Wearing nothing but a pair of booty shorts and a flimsy tank top and armed with a bloody icicle. The traffickers hot on her trail with guns and rope. Each day of hiding, running, and avoiding bullets was made worse with trying to fight the freezing cold. One bullet managed to pierce her side. On that night, Petra finally found a small cave to duck into, her feet and hands black and swollen. She was practically a light blue.

Using the last of her strength to make a small, pitiful fire, Petra packed her bullet wound with snow as a sad attempt to stop the bleeding. She leaned against the cave wall and closed her eyes. Thinking back to all the events that transpired that lead her to this. The memories slowly getting darker and darker...

She woke up abruptly from crashing down onto the ground. The teen shot up, disoriented and looked around. Her eyes fell onto a large sign reading, “Welcome to Hell.”

Sins committed to get into hell: Theft, Murder, Assault, Manslaughter, Prostitution (Not her choice)

Any regrets in what they have done: No...depends 

Likes:  

Doing whatever she wants

Warm food

Parkour

Heavy metal music

Necessary Violence

Beating up adults

Animals

Children

Being left alone

Dislikes:  

Adults

Being touched

Limited freedom

Being told what to do

Guns

Silence

Drugs

Anything sex related

Short clothing

Frozen Food

Fears/phobias:  

Men touching her/being near her

Being tied up

The sight of her own blood

Dark rooms

Cults

Sexual acts of any kind

Being drugged

Favorite color: 

White 

Hobbies:  

Ice/snow surfing

Brawling/Street Fighting

Reading scary stories

Parkouring

Stealing

Talents/skills:

Great at the drums

Ice skating (lol)

Parkouring

Intimidation

Fighting

Very Observant/ Quick Learner

Favorite food(s):  

Skyr (Yougurt)

Harðfiskur (dried fish)

Reykjavik's Hot Dog

Favorite drink(s):  

Slushies

Pineapple Soda

Hot Chocolate

Significant/special belongings:  

Her icepick

Spiked choker

Combat  

Fighting skills/techniques:  

Very good street fighter/brawler

Excellent stabbing and hacking skills

Weapon of choice (if any):  

Ice Pick

Unique Abilities:

Cold Magic- is able to perform a form of magic that allows them to utilize cold, either magically manipulating it

Cryokinesis- can create, shape, move, control, interact and manipulate ice.

Cold manipulation- can create, shape and manipulate cold by reducing the kinetic energy of atoms and thus making things colder

Atmospheric Freezing- an freeze the air/atmosphere itself regardless of air quality, abundant and trace gases, air temperature, etc., allowing her to either convert that air/atmosphere directly to ice or simply super chill it.

Absolute Freezing- can freeze anything, from tangible targets to intangible energy such as fire, or concepts such as time, even a person's mind.

Cold Embodiment- acts as the personification or manifestation of cold in their reality and has limitless control over coldness and can use coldness in different ways.

Cold Breath- able to generate and manipulate cold energy within her in a way that allows her to shape the exhaling of the effect.

Cold Presence- has the ability to project a field that lowers the temperature around her, creating a constant chill.

Cold Weaponry- create or wield weaponry with power over cold, which grants Perma a wide variety of cold-based abilities, including slowing down molecules, freezing a target solid, and limiting healing.

Cryo-Phasing- combines intangibility and ice powers to freeze the objects she passes through.

Cryogenic Bodily Fluids- possesses freezing cold bodily fluids (blood, sweat, saliva, etc.

Cryokinetic Creature Creation- is able to create beings of ice or shape existing ice into wanted shapes and purposes. She can grant the beings varying levels of independence (controlled, automatons/programmed, semi-independent) and existence (momentary to permanent) and delete the creature once she is done with them.

Cryokinetic Claws- can project and retract razor-sharp claws of ice from her fingertips for offensive purposes.

Cryokinetic Combat- able to utilize ice manipulation with her physical combat, allowing her to both create tools and weapons for attack and manipulate the environment for her advantage

Cryokinetic Cloning- can create clones of herself, others and/or objects by using ice.

Cryokinetic Surfing- controls the ice in a way that increases her ability to move and/or maneuver either by granting her abilities she otherwise lack or allowing them to ignore normally needed equipment.

Cryokinetic Regeneration- can use ice to regenerate her bodies with the amount of ice used defining the speed of healing.

Demonic Ice Manipulation- One of her most powerful attacks. She can generate and manipulate mystical demonic ice, which cannot be melted by mortal means, drawn straight from the darkest fears sentient minds have about winter, ice and arctic areas, including the fears of treacherous ice breaking, burying/devouring, damaging or tripping the victim in malicious awareness.

Demonic Ice Breath - able to generate and manipulate demonic ice within her in a way that allows her to shape the exhaling of the effect. These shapes can include bursts, streams, spheres, even a mist of it from the mouth.

Dark Ice Manipulation - More powerful attack. She can create, shape and manipulate the ice of a darker, detrimental nature; that which damages, destroys, and consumes anything/everything she comes across, representing the hazardous destructive side of ice, which in turn ignores most of the limitations and weaknesses of the normal ice. In essence, this is about solely controlling the negative dark powers of ice.

Frostbite- can freeze up any part of an enemy's body where she can turn the tissues and flesh into solid ice making the victim shatter into pieces due to freeze drying, or cause a swelling making it hard to move for the victim.

Frozen Surface- can cause surfaces (often floor) to emit ice/cold, causing ice/cold-damage on anything in contact with her or the ice.

Hail Generation- can generate and project hail.

Ice Aura- can release and surround herself in/with ice/cold for defensive and/or offensive purposes, possibly becoming almost untouchable and granting her various abilities/attacks.

Ice Vortex Creation - can generate spirals/vortices composed of ice. The vortex can be projected as a long ranged attack or as a tornado of ice for both offensive and/or defensive purposes.

Omnidirectional Ice Waves- can release massive amounts of ice in every direction at once for almost unlimited scales. This power allows Perma to dispatch many foes at once and destroy large areas like cities/villages.

Snow Ball Projection- able to launch spheres of snow at targets with varying degrees of force.

Snow Solidification- can solidify or give solid-like properties to snow-based substances with the level of solidity going from loose jelly to metal-like hardness or beyond. Alternatively, Perma can also harden snow to make it denser and harder to break.

Un-melt able Ice- can generate and project snow/ice that is extremely difficult to or cannot by melted by normal means, such as extreme heat or fire.

Weaknesses in combat:  

Intense heat/fire

No control when pushed too far

Turns to solid ice when she goes overboard

Due to her constant chill, she can’t sneak up on people

Strengths in combat:  

Wide and short range attacks

Nearly indestructible ice walls

Hidden demon form 

Wild unpredictable street fighting style

Can create ice creatures, structures, and weapons

Relationships

Past life Relationships

Parents: Unknown 

Siblings: None  

Other Important Relatives: None  

Children: None 

Best Friend:   None yet

Other Important Friends:  None yet

Acquaintances:  None yet

Pets: None  but wants one

Enemies:  

Anyone who tries to mess with her.

Alastor (Frenemy-ish)

Hazbin Relationships: 

Charlie- Put off by her eagerness and determination to redeem sinners. Didn’t trust her at first and kept her distance. Slowly warmed up to Charlie’s kindness and learned to trust her and others.

Vaggie- Disliked her attitude, and authority. Would tick her off with snide comments and constantly freezing her and/or Charlie. Started to bond over their dislike of Alastor and men a bit. Told Vaggie of her life and hardships, now have a big sis/little sis connection.

Angel Dust- Because of his sexual nature, she was terrified of Angel and avoided him. Even freezing him solid a few times out of fear/self-defense. Calm down a little once, she learned that he’s gay. The two became close once Angel shared his own stories of abuse. Also adores Fat Nuggets.

Alastor- Instantly loathes Alastor due to his disregard for personal space and creeper smile. Sees him as a closet pervert and often talks trash about his radio broadcasts and calls him an "a limp dick old man". Perma was unaware of Alastor's reputation, but sees him as a sicko who likes to inflate his own ego and harrass those he sees as beneath him. One of the few demons who doesn't fear Alastor, but that's due to her own ignorance and inexperience. Often tries to start fights with him by crude derogatory comments. Or freezing him.

Husker- Didn't think much of Husk at first, but liked the fact the he's a cat. The two barely interacted until she sang to herself in German and Husk responded back. They slowly began to converse with each other more and more. Husk actually listening to her woes and offering some advice. Vice versa. Due to Husk keeping to himself and respecting boundaries, Perma respects and listens to Husk more than anyone. Calms down whenever he's around. The two soon form a father/daughter like relationship.

Niffty- Was put off by Niffty's persnickety and energetic persona. Also irritated her by the frost she leaves behind. But they grow to tolerate each other over time.

Trivia 

Sin - Wrath

Can speak 5 languages: Icelandic, German, Polish, English, and Dutch. This is due to the men she came in contact with during her time on the streets and while trafficked

The spiked choker she wears was a gift from one of the older trafficked girls. It was the first time she was given ANYTHING nice.

Speaks with a thick Icelandic accent

Her lips are dark  blue from her cold

Given her sexual abuse, Perma doesn’t just hate sex, she’s TERRIFIED of it.

Perma keeps to herself and talks to no one unless confronted. 

She knows nothing about the Overlords or power scale.

She keeps her distance from friendly people. To her, everyone is out to get something.

Perma loves heavy metal, it helps her release the pain and fury she feels

With enough patience and practice, Perma could fight on par with an overlord

She likes animals, they never harm you

She eats warm food, to feel ‘alive’. 

One negative act towards her, no matter how small, can set her off

[blackevermore]

x Secrets of The Lake: The Company of Misery and Pain

{ Chapter 5 }

Summary: Vladimir Masters’ family tree has always been tainted by secrets swept under the rug. From generation to generation there have been countless reasons the Masters’ family had seemed to keep private from the public. Even to this day, Vladimir was no exception. But what was one to do when a restless spirit from the settlement years finally breaks free from restraints and demands you answer for your ancestor’s crimes? Vladimir doesn’t know. However, Clockworks does.

Notes: We just having fun, rewriting some of the canon, new adventure new characters. I will apologize now for any grammar, spelling, weird sentence structuring in advance. My brain writes faster than my fingers and even when I go back through to reread it I still miss things. Sorry about that!

Word Count: 3063

It wasn’t that it was hard to pinpoint where things began to fall apart for the Masters family. Rather it was who was to blame when all of it happened all at once. Could it have been the people they married or was it the family itself that had the bad luck? Either way, the Masters family had a very long list of unfortunate events that seemed to flock like birds to a nest. Vlad sat at his computer scanning through the digital archives of his family. He never truly sat down and looked through all of this, when he was younger it was more like being shown a picture and being asked to guess how far apart they were in life and death. His father did it often trying to brag about how headstrong all the men in the family were.

So many names, so much trading property or what seemed like stealing others. Not that Vlad was surprised at all by that, how else do you think he got where he was in life, it was just the game of business. Not having many divorces and remarrying, now that was surprising, he would have thought the men in his family would have had the least of the draw, or he was just shamefully projecting. Of course the latter could be farther from the truth when Vlad went through two stepmothers. Both his and his first stepmother died of unknown causes which left the last one living the longest. Luckily they were both lovely and the sweetest of women, but maybe would have been better off not in the family. At last Mrs Helena was alive, he hoped.

Vlad had scrolled to the very beginning of the files which started in the mid 16th century. The family name had just been respelt to the changing Germanic language and someone named Alger had married and inherited land in southern modern Germany; he died of an infection in the mouth at 32. From there they had seven children but only two survived due to the plague. From the two, only one was a boy and he carried the family name and expanded the family east. After that was a long line of names that either was married in, inherit, how they died, and weird scribbled notes off to the side Vlad couldn’t read. As the 16th century files ended the 17th century file started and was a lot more organized than the former. Vlad could actually read what jobs the males in his family had and where they actually ended up near the end of their life. The Masters family had once again gone through a name respelling and this time they were established merchants.

As he combed through the notes and names, Vlad had this weird ‘yes’ ‘no’ feeling, so far everyone had been a ‘no’ and his gut told him he was getting closer. Closer to what? Not sure, but he followed it anyway hoping to reach the end. But when he came across blank records, he was closer to the mid  17 century. The last family was the house of Anya with three dependents, a wife named Yolan and two sons, Vladan and Luther. In the notes it said that Anya served the ruler as a travelling merchant and was paid wealthy for it; he died of poison. The family lived in the furthest part of the eastern Germanic states which meant they would have been closer to migrating towards Slavic area. But after that there was nothing but empty rows. That was 50 years missing and that didn’t sit right with Vlad. Surely there had to be something or someone during that time. With how detailed the records were so far there had to be something- anything.

Vlad scrolled down to the beginning of the 18th century and that’s where the names picked back up with Vladan being the head of the house. There was an asterisk next to Vladan's name that read ‘only surviving heir’. Vlad sighed, of course, the family had died and was only survived by a single son. He could only imagine the tragedy that could have happened to the rest of the family.

‘Yes’

Vlad’s gut pulled as he read over the name again and the notes beside it. This man went through four wives whose names weren’t listed other than ‘wife 1… wife 2...’  and only had a daughter.

“Seems like misery was your only friend,” Vlad mumbled as he looked on and saw that the daughter took over for her father once he died of heart issues, and moved the family due to marriage. She didn’t change her name nor give up belongings and had five sons but only two of them had her last name. It seemed that it was on purpose for the lack of arguing on who got what when she died. The husband on the other hand disappeared early into their marriage, “You were truly a Wollstonecraft it seems, Miss Ursula Masters.” Sadly tragedy struck her down as well as she died of horse trampling. After Ursula the next four families had lost all the old money they once sat on due to wars and the collapsing economies. They did however maintain their pride and kept building themselves back up. By the end of the 18th century, the Masters family was in Russia and had branched off.

‘No’

Vlad knotted his brows as his gut once again pulled at him as a sign of the wrong direction. Rolling his eyes tired from looking at small prints and shitty handwriting he scrolled back up to the empty space.

“So you’re from right here it seems,” Vlad rubbed his chin and groaned. “What in the world happened and how did you get here?” As Vlad tried to think of another way to figure out the gap, the phone at his desk began to ring and broke him away from his trance. Deciding that that was enough for the day, Vlad closed his laptop and picked up the phone. Vlad had been so invested in his ghostly business he nearly forgot about his human one. Vlad pulled the phone away from his ear and rolled his neck as he tried to put on his Vlad Co. facade. Vlad pulled the phone back in when he heard a question and he politely asked the woman on the other side to repeat herself.

“I asked if you will still be holding the theme banquet this coming Wednesday.” Sha! Vlad had forgotten all about the company banquet. As a boss he felt it was important to give your employees a ‘thank you’, especially if there was company corruptness being swept under the rug. So as a treat every so often Vlad would announce he would host a banquet and give everyone the day off. Vlad felt his eye twitch as he thought over whether or not he should cancel it. Wednesday was in three days and he hadn’t even told his ghostly staff about it.

As his mind thought it over the words came out by themselves, “Yes.” Yes? Yes?! He had no time to play host when he had a ghost to deal with and any other madness being thrown his way. Why in the world would he say yes?

“That’s wonderful! Sir, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the theme?” The woman said, eagerly.

“Well I do mind, that’s my little secret. Surely you wouldn’t want to take the surprise away from yourself, now would you.” Vlad gagged as he sweetly replied and heard the woman become flustered.

“You’re right,” Of course I am . “ Well I can’t wait to see what you put together, Sir. You never cease to amaze us.”

“Hmm, yes, now if you excuse me, Miss Wright, I have some emails to look over before prepping.”

“Very well, Sir good-” Vlad didn’t wait for the woman’s goodbye and hung up, he dropped his face into his hands and held his breath as he tried to mentally organize himself.

Clockwork? Check.

Vengeful spirit out to kill him? Check.

Nearly being torn apart? Check.

Waking up three days later? Check?

Prepping for a banquet he forgot all about? Wonderful .

Vlad stood up from his desk chair and stretched his back, he needed to get out of the house for fresh air. Maybe go for a walk or if he was feeling up to it, a quick flight, then come back and start on what was being served at the banquet and what the theme was. As he walked around his desk and reached out a hand to draw the handle he heard the low rumble of bickering outside his door. He used his ghost sense to hone in on it and only shook his head in disappointment.

“Yeah well I could have been there for backup if you had let me go with you. How come he got to go with you?” Dani crossed her arms angrily and shot Danny the meanest eyes she could muster.

“I didn’t bring him along, he showed up by himself, he was supposed to be on his way to pick you up, remember.” Danny retorted as she and he rounded the corner to Vlad’s office. “Besides I told you it was dangerous and you would have only gotten hurt.”

“No way I’m like super badass!” Dani yelled.

“Language, especially in this house, Danielle.” Vlad opened the door and looked on towards the children. Dani turned away and grumbled as Danny sighed and gave a quick wave.

“Either she was gonna fly here and pester you by herself or I would at least try to stop her, as you can see I didn’t do much.” Danny motioned towards his clone and she stuck out a tongue.

“Well at least you showed up at the right time, I have news I think you will like to hear.” Vlad rubbed the bridge of his nose and gestured for Danny to come inside. Guess the walk would have to wait.

“Boy would I!” Dani stepped out in front of Danny and Vlad quickly stuck a hand out.

“Miss Masters, you have other things to do. This problem has nothing to do with you and I would much prefer it if you stop trying to be a part of it.” Vlad put on his father voice and it saw how it made Dani upset. She looked back at Danny for help only for the older teen narrowed his eyes and looked away. Vlad gave her the all knowing look of ‘you are out ruled’ and Dani stomped her foot. She had been told no so much in the last few days of wanting to help.

“I swear you two still treat me like some weak baby. I have control over myself and my powers, stop doing that!” The hurt in Dani’s voice almost made the others cave but Vlad stood by his words and shook his head.

“I know you’re not a baby, far from, but this isn’t your fight. Now run along.” Dani's face nearly turned red and she flew off through the walls to god knows where.

“Maybe it wouldn’t have hurt to let her listen,” Danny rubbed his arm, feeling very much like a villain. Vlad on the other hand deadpanned him and turned to walk into his office.

“You should know what happens to those that become too curious, they only get in trouble.” Vlad’s monotone voice irked Danny, the jab was unnecessary considering they both ended up as they were due to curiosity. Once they were seated in their respective chairs Vlad opened his laptop again. Danny watched him scroll through files before turning the computer around for him to look at. Danny had no idea how to read any of this, cocking an eyebrow he shook his head.

“Explain,” Danny said.

“As I looked through everything, I noticed that my family record suddenly stopped between the late 1650s to the 1700s.” Vlad began pointing towards the screen. “This may sound odd but I had a feeling this might be where Tayonna is from. However, it doesn’t make sense because there is no mention of coming to America. This name, Vladan, is the only surviving member of his family and he stayed in the empire and got married. He was one of the sons of the family before the gap.” Vlad turned the computer back around and stared heavily at the name trying to make something of it.

“Is there any way for you to throw money on this and figure out what happened in those 50 years?” Danny asked with a shrug, surely, Vlad had that power considering he was a billionaire. Vlad did not have that power. Vlad blinked a few times and shook his head.

“If only it was that easy, however, I have no idea where to look nor do I have time to fly out to one of the thirteen colonies and check.”

“Get an assistant to do it, you have plenty of those and I know it, Miss Kate is a really cool lady.” Danny smirked, he had the honours of meeting a few of Vlad’s assistants who sometimes had very nasty things to say about him. Which Danny promised not to repeat back and enjoyed listening to. Truly, what man has a random sweet tooth at 3am and demands a strawberry shortcake?

“I doubt any of them would wish to take a random trip at the moment.” Vlad thought over his few underhands and couldn’t think of a single one he could trust with this. They all had their pros and cons and yet Vlad found himself cancelling all of them.

“When did you become considerate of anyone but yourself?” Danny asked with a cocked brow and pressed lips. Vlad was a bit taken back by the question but knew where Danny was coming from.

“When I decided to stop playing childish games with a child. My company is not a playpen and my workers are not playmates I can throw away.” Vlad answered with a hiss on his lips and Danny mumbled a ‘whatever’ before throwing his hands up and standing to his feet.

“I still say send one of them out to Ellis Island to find something.��

“Ellis Island was built in the late 1800s not the 16oos, Daniel.” Danny opened his mouth then quickly closed it.

“I knew that… I knew that.”

“Of course,” Vlad wore his annoying amused smirk that he always gave Danny when he messed up. “But I will take your suggestion into consideration since it’s something rather than nothing.”

“That’s the spirit. Get it?” Danny shot Vlad finger guns and a wink and the man snickered and walked around his desk to head towards the door.

“Besides, it's not like we can ask Tayonna herself.” Vlad added as he opened the door and allowed Danny to head out first.

“Dude, I think the last person she wants to see is you or me.” Danny snorted. Vlad only hummed and they walked towards the stairs to bring them to the first floor. Danny B-lined his way to the kitchen and quickly found home in Vlad’s frig. Vlad joined him and made himself a cup of coffee for his midday crisis. “Besides, the last place I left her was at the bottom of the pond as I drug your lifeless body away.” Danny shoved a gogurt in his mouth and raised his eyebrows. Vlad huffed and looked over the top of his cup.

“Don’t remind me. Those are Dani’s.”

“She’ll understand, her gogurts are going towards a great cause. And I know how much Masters love donating towards “ good causes ”.” Danny wiggled his brows and ghosted another hand into the frig to pull out another snack to shove into his pocket.

“Don’t say anything to me when she finds out. I’ve seen nothing.” Vlad chuckled behind his drink and playfully turned the other way.

“Oh ha ha.” Danny finished his first snack and threw it away. He pulled out the next and started in on it, he made an about face and gave Vlad a concerned expression.

“We gotta make it up to her, she really wanted to help, but this is hella dangerous and she could get hurt. Tayonna isn’t gone, she’s still in the ghost zone and we both have to go back in there to deal with her.” Danny voicing his worries for not only Dani’s feelings but the threat she kept trying to chase made Vlad feel like a drained parent. He always thought of Danny as a distant son, more so now than before. So when he made Danielle and then rekindled a relationship with her he really did feel like a single father. The last thing he wanted at the moment was to cause another rift in their relationship. Having a happy Dani around the house made Vlad feel way less lonely.

“I know and that’s why I’ll ask her to aid me in planning the company banquet for Wednesday.” Vlad finished his drink and placed it in the dishwasher before snapping his fingers to turn it on.

“You’re seriously having a banquet while we’re in the middle of this?” Danny's expression quickly dropped and Vlad shooed him away.

“Correction, this is happening while I was planning the banquet. Ghosts seem to have no consideration for my very busy life. But the show must go on.” Danny could only facepalm as he listened to Vlad.

“You are such a fruitloop, ya know.”

“Yes, yes, I’m well aware.” Vlad chuckled and walked out of the kitchen. Danny was about to follow him until he stepped out and nearly slipped. He looked down and saw that where Vlad once stood was now a puddle of water with a few smaller puddles heading the way Vlad did. Danny’s first thought was danger and panic but the beeping sound of the dishwasher snapped him out of it. Besides, if she would have gotten in, not only would Vlad’s ghost security alert him, but his own ghost sense would have told him. Danny hadn’t felt any weird energy nor had his senses go off the whole time he was here. Danny calmed down and told himself it was just a leak in the dishwasher he would have to tell Vlad about.

[imma-lil-teapot]

TMNT 2003/2k3 Headcanon: Crying - (Leonardo)

Feel free to scroll past this first part if you’re not interested in my silly rambling and nonsense. I won’t mind. Promise. ;)

Okey-dokey then, with the global epidemic that is the Coronavirus well in action and most of the world stuck in lockdown (starting this Friday for us too), felt like getting the ‘ol creative juices flowing with a little headcanon-y thingy in preparation for -possibly- more fandom writings to keep myself busy during the house arrest (well... it kinda is!) and hopefully my mind off all the bad news. :( 

Also, this is totally my first one on the blog! WOOT! Please bear in mind that I’m SUPER rusty! Haven’t written in ages so there are bound to be typos and all matter of general errors scattered throughout the post. Don’t pet them! They bite!  

Anyhoo~ Despite attempting to create and share with the goal in mind to uplift spirits, I decided to start on a rather upsetting subject (PLEASE DON’T LEAVE! They end on happy notes ;) ) because, Imma just come and say it, I enjoy seeing my favourite characters shed tears (not for just any old reason -their personality plays a huge role in this- and CERTAINLY not for sadistic reasons, land sakes no! But... well, you’ll see~ ;) ) It makes me all gooey and fuzzy inside to see them display such raw emotion and I just wanna leap into the TV screen to hug and console them. I dunno why. Maybe I’m nuts like that. (Remembers Raph crying at the farm when Leo was badly injured and wishes she could just hug them all and take away the pain) Oh well, if you enjoy visualizing the same, then *High Fives*. :)

So yeah, if you read the title, you’ll know this is based on the 2003/2k3 series (my favs). Hope you all enjoy~ :D Grab tissues cause sad turts ahead! :’(

Jibber jabber stops here~

TURTLES~

LEONARDO - You are here

RAPHAEL

DONATELLO - Coming soon

MICHELANGELO - Coming soon

WARNING(S): Because of the subject, Angst and Hurt/Comfort will be present.

RATING: G (General)

WORD COUNT: Don’t have the foggiest.

ANYTHING ELSE TO ADD:

And apparently gifs too, so without further ado: (Completely unintentional but in actuality, totally intentional rhyming)...

TO THE HEADCANONS~~~~

~LEONARDO~

-- It’s no easy feat to make the leader in blue turn on the waterworks. Leo won’t cry for any old reason. It’s not because he has no emotions, far from it, but being the leader of a small ninja clan -who happen to be family as well- is no easy task in itself: he has a lot on his young shoulders and deals with many issues on a daily basis few his age ever have to.

-- It’s because of these reasons that Leo doesn’t cry often. One of the lesser likely to out of the four brothers. But when he does, it’s an emotionally distressing sight to behold. 

-- Leo tends to cry whenever those closest to him -namely his brothers, his father/master and truest friends- are severely injured or are in a dire situation. Remember his angry/moody arc? The thought of losing any of them causes him great pain and distress, especially if he were the cause of any of it, and when that happens, he can’t stop the dampness that forms around his eyes and soaks into his mask. 

-- He’s not fond of crying, especially in front of others, even though he fully comprehends its normalcy. He feels he needs to be everyone’s rock, their fortress of physical and emotional stability to turn to for strength when things get rough... So when the tears start to fall, he feels he can’t show them, can’t allow them to watch him crumble under the gripling weight of helplessness and anguish.

-- He frantically wipes at his eyes and desperately attempts not to sniffle, but it’s a hopeless battle, for his tears are already a steady stream. 

-- He’ll try to hide when possible, usually retreating to his room to allow the worst of the emotions to spill over before returning to the others... Though he may be in there a while: when Leo lets his emotions go, it can be just as powerful as his red-banded brother’s rage. 

-- He spares no time in making sure the coast is clear for the tears are already streaming by the time he reaches his futon, and there’s no stopping them now as he lets himself drop to his knees, only halfway onto the mattress. He purposefully leaves the room unlit, cloaking his form in the darkness. 

-- He sniffs a few times as he shuffles up against the wall, sitting upright against it, bringing his legs up and hugging them loosely and droops his head against a single knee pad. 

-- His voice desperately wishes to escape. To express its misery. But he won’t allow it to, often placing one hand over his face in a bid to quell the sadness and remain silent in the battle against his own inner turmoil. He refuses to let anyone see him in that state of utter sorrow and vulnerability.

-- He whimpers ever so slightly and coughs a few times as breathing becomes difficult. He knows this episode won’t be over any time soon. Fortunately, he keeps some tissues next to his bed for such rare occasions and tries not to blow too loudly. He thinks back to the last time he cried so hard... It’s been a while. It felt like a build up. 

-- Time has been forgotten as he’s lost in deep thought. By the time he slips a hand across his eyes, only the material of his mask is still slightly damp. He clears his nostrils a couple of times before considering whether he was ready to return to his family. He’d of course straighten up his bedding beforehand, and would also require a trip to the bathroom to wash his face. A true ninja leaves no evidence. 

-- Leo tries to put the horrifying images out of head before leaving his quarters. He doesn’t wish to be weighed down again and thus maybe cause his emotions to come out a second time. He knew someone would catch on that time. Instead, he holds his head up high, focusing on the there and now to carry him forward.  

BONUS EXTRA~

-- Failure is also one of his greatest foes. Leo despises it, but not in the irrational sense; he fully comprehends that in order to grow, one has to lose in order to learn and thus, succeed in turn, and while it can frustrate him when he’s unsuccessful at mastering a martial arts technique for example, he understanders it’s part of the process and that no one’s perfect. 

-- It’s when his slipups could spell casualties or death to his family and/or friends is when it weighs down on him like a boulder strapped to his shell. 

-- A really big one. 

-- And it hurts. So much so that it causes him to become despondent and often teary-eyed when no one’s looking.

-- Boi Bloo might also cry from especially sad movie scenes. He gets seriously into the story, and when the scene is just right -perfect music, perfect timing etc.- you may just catch Fearless with watery eyes. 

-- He can’t help it. After all, he’s a leader, and very caring and kind-hearted individual, so movies showing children or anyone/anything defenceless getting hurt has him not only visibly upset, but also angry at the cause. He’s a softie like that. 

-- He won’t have a meltdown, of course, but the tears are definitely there. Just don’t tease him too much; he’s easily embarrassed by it. ;) 

BONUS EXTRA EXTRA FEMALE READER OR S/O EDITION~ (Can also use an OC/FC insert if you wish, up to you)

You had figured something was up by the time you’d finished greeting everyone in the Splinterson household except for the Turtle you’d long to see most and he hadn’t made his presence yet known. 

The idea that he must’ve been practicing or meditating swiftly vanished when Mikey told you he’d been in his room in the dark for the past few hours. “The guy hardly ever naps, and even so, never this long.” He’d told you. “I dunno, (Y/N), we were about to check on ‘im when you arrived, but maybe you should be the one to. Think he’d really appreciate it.” And there was absolutely no argument from your side as you were already making your way up to the room.

You didn’t know what to expect as you neared the doorway. Could he possibly still just be sleeping? Meditating in the dark instead of his usual spot by the training area? Or... was he sick? The latter now had you concerned and you picked up your pace... Only to pause mid step when an unmistakable sound reached your ears: a sniffle.

Had it come from within his room? It was the only logical explanation as everyone else was downstairs. You were truly perturbed now as you stood outside the doorway and called out the ‘eldest’ Turtle’s name.

There was some shuffling to be heard but you were unable to tell for sure what he was doing -probably trying to neaten up his bed- “(Y/N)? Just a second, okay?” he responded in a rather awkward verging on frantic tone, and you were certain you heard another sniffle escape him. 

That, along with the way he’d replied really didn’t help to put your mind at ease. “Leo, are you alright?” Nor was the pitch blackness in which he remained concealed in.

“Yeah, just... l-looking for something.” There was some more shuffling as if to prove his point, but you were having none of it.

“Then maybe this,” you began, turning around to flick the light switch, “will help?”

“No! Wait!” But it was a split second too late for as soon the brightness illuminated the entire room, you had caught the telltale signs of an emotional meltdown in progress plastered on his face before he quickly turned away and briskly wiped an arm across his face, attempting to hide the shame... or perhaps embarrassment? 

“Leo...?” your heart and voice softened, “Hey, what’s wrong?” You automatically walked to him, closing the gap he was now trying to form. 

“Nothing,” he lied, and acknowledged it was a fruitless attempt but still couldn’t stop himself. Autopilot panic mode was enabled now. “It’s nothing.” 

Unfortunately for him, autopilot mother hen mode was activated for you as you reached with both hands to his carapace and shoulder, gently turning him to face you. “I can see that it’s something.” Your words were gentle, and you wanted nothing more than to take away his pain. “Look at me, Honey.” His body was turned but his head remained to the side. It was clear he didn’t want his obvious distress on display, even to you. “Please, Leo?” You tried again, and slowly but surely, his eyes met yours, and you felt your heart sink further.

The fabric of his mask was wet and eyes were still red with fresh tears that threatened to fall. He appeared so broken and helpless as he stared at you, and even though he uttered no words, you could practically hear him despairingly ask “Is this what you wanted? To see me at my lowest?” from his expression alone. 

Never had you witnessed the leader of this band of mutant brothers cry. At times you had wondered if he ever did, and yet here he was; the incredible pillar of strength and dignity you had come to know and adore, in tears and so dejected that you couldn’t stop your own eyes from becoming damp the more you gazed at him. “Oh, Sweety...” You whispered as you felt your soul shatter. It was too much to bear. You slowly wrapped your arms around him, one around the midsection and the other over his shoulder, and buried your face into his leathery neck, offering every ounce of comfort you could muster.

It didn’t take him long at all to sink into the embrace and return the action. Beyond the point of concerning himself with showing the pain he felt -or the wetness now soaking into your shoulder when he placed his forehead against it- he sniffed and finally allowed the tears to fall once again as fresh waves of emotion surged throughout his body.

And this time, he couldn’t keep the whimpering to himself.

“Shh~ It’s okay, it’s okay,” you soothed, lightly patting and rubbing along the scutes of his shell as he weakly sobbed, finally letting go of all the sadness that gripped him. 

You weren’t even aware of what was wrong, and you most likely wouldn’t find out til later once he calmed down, but right now, he just needed you to hold him. Hold him until the hurt was gone... And so you would. 

AND THAT’S ALL SHE WROTE!

ALL THE FEELS!! I EMBARRASS!!

OMGosh, this turned into a monster! The mother of all HCs!! :O No seriously, this wasn’t meant to be this long! I was suppose to squish all four into one itty bitty little post, but then it just grew... and grew... and GREW! Personally, I blame the Reader Bonus but I’d be damned if I didn’t enjoy writing it! ;P You guys here on Tumblr got me slightly addicted to them and have wanted to attempt some myself so... Anyhoo~ I can’t really say if I’m entirely content with the whole thing, I dunno. I feel some parts are better than others (writing style-wise) but yeah, I really need to get back into the swing of things...

Speaking of which, I DO plan on adding my two cents on the other bois as well, but judging by how this one turned out, they’ll most likely all be this length, more or less, so each Turt will get his own post so I can really jot down those details with all the freedom in the world! That being said, I can’t say when they’ll be added but hopefully soon-ish. :) Raph's next on the list!

Thank you all so much for the read and hope you enjoyed~ :D

~Drag0n Mistr3ss’ Random Fandoms*

[more-miserables]

Ooookay, so my friend @cubeswhump got me into this corner of the whump community, and I’m pretty hooked. So I thought I’d give it a go myself. This is my first time writing for the whump community (mostly anyway, I was in another make-your-OCs-suffer community) so I’d be grateful for feedback and suggestions. Let me know if I get shit wrong.

Also Cube told me I should tag @albino-whumpee (hello, I really love your work and art, and I’m super nervous to post this lol)

Warnings for dehumanizing language, institutionalized slavery, boxboy universe, implications of past self-harm, implications of drugging, lots of messed up stuff, you guys know.

He thought it was an American thing. That’s where all the original stories seemed to come from. He remembered his parents’ fancy dinner parties when he was little, how all the posh folk had nattered on about what a great idea it was. A cheap, lifelong companion who would bow to your every whim. They must’ve been delighted when the idea spread across the globe, making its way across Europe and to England. He didn’t doubt his parents’ friends all had a boxboy/babe now. Maybe his parents did too; he wouldn’t know.

He never thought he’d need to go near the WRU. It wasn’t like he could ever afford one of their “pets.” But it was his only other option now, it was that or gash his wrists. He’d been fired from work, was failing university classes he was too anxious to go to and too depressed to care about, and completely alone in a grotty flat he couldn’t afford, estranged and cut off from his whole family because he was such a bloody pathetic loser. Not that they’d ever been too fond of him, but that hardly mattered now.

He’d seen the WRU adverts. They said they could cure your mental illnesses. They didn’t give much detail, but since his only other solution was death, he figured he didn’t have much to lose. He was longing to get rid of that awful tight feeling in his chest, the heavy fog of numb misery. They’d train you up and send you off to work, and you’d be treated like family in return. Honestly, he wanted a family far more than he wanted his anxiety and depression treated. A real family who hugged and kissed you, not a coldly indifferent, violent one like his own. He wanted to be loved.

He took a deep breath and walked up to the heavy wooden doors of the WRU.

***

“This one is very unstable. Scars all over his arms. That’ll lower his value. Reacting very badly to training so far. We can’t risk sending him off alone.”

“If we train him up as a Domestic, we can bond him to a more docile Companion. We can advertise them as good value if their owner doesn’t want to pay for scar reduction treatment. The Domestic doesn’t necessarily need to be pretty. And they’re both firsthands.”

“Do you have a Companion in mind?”

“Indeed.”

***

“Are you cold?”

“Shh. We can’t talk until our new owner gets here.”

“I’m whispering.” The bigger of the two boys wriggled around again, his back pressed up against the cold wood of the tight little box. The smaller one was squished in, their bare chests touching, shivering in unison in the chilly winter air. The box wasn’t doing much to protect them from the elements. Not that One expected that, of course. And he was lucky to have Two huddled up beside him to keep warm. Most pets travelled alone.

“You’re shivering,” One whispered persistently, trying to wriggle around in the tiny space to wrap his arms around Two. Since they shared a code number (156011) and attempting to remember their before-names hurt, they’d been One and Two ever since they’d met at training, when they’d been chained together by the neck and told they’d remain that way. Using the loo had been terribly embarrassing for the first few days - One winced as his temple throbbed. He wasn’t supposed to remember. That was bad.

He felt Two’s hands at his temples, stroking gently. “You think too much,” he said. “We just have to do as we’re told. That’s all.”

One sighed and thought it better to keep his mouth shut, resting his chin on the top of Two’s head. Two’s curly black hair was newly washed and soft as duck-down.

Time dragged on and on, endless in the darkness. It was freezing cold, but the air in the box was thick and breathing was difficult. One’s limbs twitched restlessly, longing to stretch. He wanted to whisper again, but he didn’t want to worry Two. He knew Two had plenty of worries when it came to him as it was. Their training had been far longer than most because of him. He’d been wilful and stupid and refused to learn. And still Two was never angry, never frustrated. He cried when One cried, held him when the sleeping drugs wore off and the vivid nightmares broke through, helped ease him out of bed when he was too hurt and sedated to stand. One knew he was supposed to be equally loyal to their new master, but deep down One didn’t think anyone could ever match Two for his affections.

PAIN. Bad thought bad thought bad thought...

They must’ve slept for a while, because they woke stiffer and colder than ever, clutching each other in alarm as the box lurched to the side. They could hear a chorus of female-sounding grunts and groans, and a male voice barking irritably at her to hurry up and get the dratted thing inside before he froze. Two squeezed One’s arm meaningfully. “Smile,” he breathed into One’s ear, feather-light and almost inaudible. One stretched his lips apart obediently.

“Open it then, girl!” The man’s voice again. It was old and raspy, but very posh and plummy. It sparked something in One’s memory - a bad memory, because it made his head throb again. He clenched his teeth and fought to hold a smile as the lid was finally lifted off and light flooded inside. It hurt after hours of darkness, but the pets knew it was unattractive to squint.

“Oh my! I didn’t know you ordered a pair!”

“You know I needed two of them. A Combination wouldn’t be able to get everything done around the house while taking care of me. Get them out, Ivy, what’s the matter with you?”

They stood up obediently, still chained at the neck. A middle-aged woman with a straggly ponytail and a very old man in a wheelchair were staring hard at them.

“Ivy, take the chain off, I have their collars for them. I don’t want you two joined together during the day, it’s not practical, but you’re to be chained together at night. I know the Domestic is a flight risk. You’d better call me Mr Stanley,” the old man said. He beckoned to Two as soon as the chains were off. “Come here, you. You’re the Companion?”

“Yes, Mr Stanley,” Two said, going to him obediently. One stiffened. This was the first time he’d been apart from Two in... he didn’t know. As long as he remembered.

Mr Stanley leaned right out of his wheelchair to examine him, nodding approvingly at Two’s smooth full cheeks, large brown eyes and his thatch of black curls. “Lovely little thing, but you’re very small. Will you be able to do the heavy lifting?” Stanley asked, sucking his teeth at Two’s petite frame and dainty 5’2” height.

“I’m stronger than I look, Mr Stanley. And One could help me if needs be.”

“Who? Oh, that one. Very nice. Position one.” Two got into the right placement immediately, feet apart, arms loose. In the background One did the same, just in case. Mr Stanley smirked. “Good. Now, I spent a good deal of money on you two,” he said. “I don’t want any funny business. If I think you’re slacking for a second I can send you back to be refurbished. You don’t want that, do you?”

They shook their heads in perfect unison, as if they’d practised.

“I’m pleased about that,” Mr Stanley said grimly, fixing an extravagant sparkly blue collar onto Two with his own shaky hands. “There you go now. My, you’re a pretty little thing.”

“Thank you, sir. I look forward to assisting you any way I can,” Two said, smiling angelically.

One watched morosely, wishing he could be as good at this as Two. He’d never have thought to say something like that, something the owners just ate up. Everyone had always told One that he held Two back in their training.

Pain again. Stop remembering things.

Mr Stanley continued fussing over Two, telling him all his duties and discussing his health problems at length. He tossed One’s collar to Ivy. “You can do his, Ivy. Fasten it tight.” It was plain brown, made of cheap scratchy nylon.

Ivy approached One warily, like she thought he might bite, sucking her teeth. “Stanley, couldn’t you pay for scar treatments?” she called, fastening One’s collar as quickly as possible. She actually shuddered when her fingers touched the icy skin of his neck, jolting backwards. “It’s turning my stomach.”

One could feel his cheeks starting to burn. No no no! Blushing was bad, any sign that you were feeling embarrassed was insulting to your owner! He had to fight not to hide his arms behind his back. He didn’t really remember how he got those scars. He’d tried to once, back in training, but it made his head hurt so much that he went dizzy and puked all over the floor. Two had held One’s unruly red hair out the way and rubbed his back. He’d be a great Companion.

One hadn’t tried to remember anything about the scars since, but sometimes - when he was really miserable - he suddenly felt like there should be a new one.

Mr Stanley scoffed. “Don’t be so pathetic, Ivy. I clearly didn’t pick that one for his looks, you know I never cared for redheads. He’s going to be holed up in the kitchen, I don’t give a damn what he looks like - and I’m not shelling out even more money to get him sorted. I’m only going to be seeing this one regularly, and he’s perfect.” His wrinkled face creased into a smile, eyes sparkling. He looked so proud of Two - and One suddenly felt something hot and ugly in his chest. He was envious. He didn’t like anyone else being around Two, not when they’d spent so much time together. Literally tethered to one another.

But this was his owner. A much more intense pain shot across One’s forehead, so powerful it was a struggle to remain in position one. The edges of his vision were fuzzy and red when the pain finally subsided, but he managed not to sway.

“I suppose I should give you a name,” Mr Stanley said to Two, tapping his nose like he was playing with a baby.

“We’d be very grateful for names, sir,” Two said eagerly.

“Ah, you’re a sunny little thing! Well, I’ll tell you what. You know what my surname is, boy? Yates. That’s me, Stanley Yates. And to show you’re a part of this family now, as long as you promise to be a good boy, I’d like you to be called Yates. Understood?” Mr Stanley said.

“Yes, sir. Thank you very much. I’d be honoured,” Two - no Yates, don’t quibble with the owner’s name choice - said, smiling. Then he looked over his shoulder. “Will One be Stanley, sir? Or will we both be known as Yates?”

One looked at Tw-Yates adoringly. He wanted him to be included in the family, just like those adverts had said. A family One never had, though he couldn’t remember why now. He couldn’t remember lots of things.

Mr Stanley peered over at One, sniffing disdainfully. He shook his head at the criss-cross of scars on One’s arms, of the thousands of freckles across his cheeks and arms and shoulders, at his baby-faced innocence coupled with a glint of defiance in his eyes, buried deep down after the training, but still present. Stanley’s eyes came to rest on One’s mop of fine red hair, sticking bolt upright and fluffing out all over the place like a dandelion clock. His hair seemed to defy gravity, both sticking upright and flopping in his face all at once.

“You can be Ginger,” Stanley said shortly.

And Ginger had to smile and thank him, because now he had a name and he needed to be grateful. He should always be grateful. Of course Stanley would like Yates best; Yates was perfect. Ginger was the scarred one, the one that reduced their value. The ugly one who stayed in the kitchen. He shouldn’t expect anything more. He shouldn’t ever think about how much easier it would be to not live anymore - he didn’t even remember where he got that idea from.

[lostandlonelybirds]

dick + hunger? idk i just feel like that’s not done too often. i love your writing!!

Ahhhh! Thank you darlin for the prompt!!! I love you!!!!!! Here ya go! It’s set Post-Leviathan Arc aka Robin Requiem, and Pre-Forever Evil!! And I didn’t super stick with hunger, but I love how it turned out!!! Hope you enjoy!!!

                                                     *

              In the aftermath, Dick spirals.

 It’s a thing anyone who truly knows him notices. He doesn’t grieve in stages, as most do, he grieves in behaviors. It’s a pattern engrained in misery, marinated in tears, and sautéed in his pain.

It didn’t start with his parents, it started with Jason.

And now, Damian…Damian… 

                                   “We were the best, Richard…” 

A lone corpse on a field of his mother’s making, a single weapon impaled in a                              child’s chest as his clone stares on and on.

 “I’ll always love you in my own way,” Talia al Ghul had claimed, “And I will permit        you to leave with your circus boy in tow. But from now on, you may consider                        yourself an enemy of the House of al Ghul.” 

And Dick had watched as Damian didn’t cry, didn’t frown, or look the least bit concerned.

          “Very well,” Dick’s Robin had replied, “I hope I can be a worthy one, Mother.” 

What kind of Mother can order the death of her own child? 

Damian is…

Damian… 

Stage One, for him, is carelessness. 

He jumps a bit faster than he should, a moment of calculation and precision that has saved his life countless times, ignored for the mere thrill of falling. He isn’t as thorough in his stakeouts, preferring to find out when his fists meet flesh instead of finding out through observation alone. He’s cruel, sometimes. Angry, always.

He takes on more criminals than he should, running to the point beyond exhaustion, beyond near misses and barely dodged bullets, until something strikes.

Sometimes it’s a bullet, sometimes it’s Slade Wilson pissed off for ruining another contract. This time it had been Joker, and his mad ramblings and deep incisions only left Dick hollow, falling to the next stage. 

Stage Two is sleep deprivation. 

The death, or his conjuration of it, haunts his dreams and his nightmares. He sees Damian them in every memory, every corner of his cramped apartment and every rooftop along the night skyline. He drinks at first, drinks until he forgets, but even then he dreams, wakes screaming until his throat is hoarse and his eyes run out of tears.

When the alcohol stops working, stops giving him brief reprieve from the sad shithole that is his head, he stops sleeping. It’s a slow process, all-nighters scattered here, three-hour naps with about an hour of restful-ish sleep there, until the hours turn into days, and the days turn into weeks.

By the time he’s constantly swaying on his feet, drinking enough coffee that Tim would be concerned, the hallucinations start.

Sometimes he sees random, unrelated things, not scary, just confusing.

Most of the time he sees his parents falling, Jason being beaten by a crowbar, Donna’s eyes filling with tears as the clone cuts through her heart with heat vision, Bruce fading into time, Lian blowing up alone and afraid, Damian…

 When the hallucinations start, he moves onto the next stage, just as careless, just as tired, and still feeling the knives stab through his chest each time he draws breath.

 Stage Three is rage. 

Blinding, mind altering, all-encompassing rage.

 He rages against anyone and anything, from his friends, to his family, to the smallest criminal to hit the wrong button.

He’s a livewire humming, waiting for a spark.

He’s a ticking time bomb counting down, clenching and glaring and so furious he doesn’t know what to do with it. 

He feels it deep in his soul, corroding and poisoning, strengthening…. He kills the Heretic without hesitation when he finds the monster at Talia’s side, nearly kills Talia too. Would have, if not for Ra’s and Jason. 

They pull him off, tell him he’s even with her now, for her slight, her betrayal... but nothing could possibly equal Damian’s life, not even her own. Dick isn’t afraid of Ra’s, isn’t weary of Batman. He won’t rest until that bitch is dead and forgotten.

 Everyone watches him spiral at this point, he makes it well known with his anger and his pain and his inability to bottle anything up anymore. He lashes out, and they watch, and they listen, but they never stop him.

 Everyone lets him self-destruct, because deep down, they know just like he knows, that he deserves it. 

Stage Four is bodily deprivation, or self-punishment.

 Before, his injuries and mistakes and inability to take care of himself came from a place of inattentiveness, recklessness, but now…

Now when he sees Damian’s face, bludgeoned and bloodied by a clone created by his bastard of a mother, he stops eating. If he eats, his body rejects it. He doesn’t get hungry, even if he feels the pain and rumbles of it.

Now when he hears the name Robin, and sees the cape cover its owner’s corpse, he jumps off buildings until he collapses, until he doesn’t stick a landing, and sometimes he still continues.

Now when he hears Talia al Ghul’s voice in his dreams or his nightmares, he seeks out fights. Sometimes in bars, sometimes on the streets… He doesn’t stop when his fists are bloody, and his face is bruised. He never really stops.

 When he is hungry with no appetite, bloody with no pain, and broken without trying, he doesn’t move on to the next stage. 

There is no Stage Five, no equivalence to the stage where acceptance was supposed to occur. He doesn’t accept it.

He doesn’t move on. He holds onto that pain until all he feels is pain. He lets it consume him, lets it destroy him. If he’s still breathing by Stage Five, he’s numb enough to live with it, and fake a smile so no one worries. 

Damian’s dead, and Dick’s half-way there himself. By the time the family comes together, Dick’s corpse is buried next to Damian’s. There is no acceptance, there is no relief. There is only pain. It’s a good thing Dick’s numb to his own by now.                                            

                                                              *

[stahlop]

Once Upon a Time 2x12 “In the Name of the Brother” Review

Reviews 1x01 1x02 1x03 1x04 1x05 1x06 1x07 1x08 1x09 1x10 1x11 1x12 1x13 1x14 1x15 1x16 1x17 1x18 1x19 1x20 1x21 1x22 2x01 2x02 2x03 2x04 2x05 2x06 2x07 2x08 2x09 2x10 2x11

So we are now in the aftermath of Hook shooting Belle and losing her memories, what needs to be done about this stranger who blew into town, and dealing with Whale’s issues after the whole bringing back Daniel incident. We also get to see how Victor ended up in the Enchanted Forest back in “The Doctor” and what happened when he used young Regina’s enchanted heart. Some hilarious conversations happened in this episode as well. Emma and Mary Margaret finding out that Whale is Frankenstein and that he brought Daniel back, and then Ruby and Whale’s conversation are priceless. 

Summary: Victor Frankenstein makes a deal with Rumplestiltskin for a heart, which he ends up using on his brother who died protecting him. Emma deals with the aftermath of the stranger who crashed into town. Cora makes herself known to Regina and implores her to let her be her mother again. Whale isn’t dealing well with anything and gets help from an unlikely source.

Opening: Color Rumplestiltskin with a magnifying glass in a black and white Enchanted Forest

New Character Observations:

Greg: We don’t really know much about him yet. His phone makes him seem like he’s just a hipster blogger; posting pictures of places he’s traveled and food that he’s about to eat. When Emma questions him he claims to have been texting and driving and that’s why he didn’t see Hook when he hit him with the car. But, we know something is up because he keeps getting phone calls from someone labeled simply, Her. I mean, who puts that unless they’re hiding something? And then it’s confirmed that he’s hiding something at the end of the episode when he phones someone (I’m assuming Her), and tells her that she won’t believe what he saw.

Gerhardt: He is beloved by his father and helps out his older brother, Victor, who is considered the black sheep of their family. He feels bad when his father gives him their mother’s watch which should go to the eldest brother, Victor. He also is alarmed when their father tries to get Victor to be in the military with a commission that he bought for him. Gerhardt is in the military which makes his father very proud. He is unfortunately shot by a cemetery guard when he tries to stop Victor from digging up a body. He ends up becoming Victor’s monster. Hey, at least you can call it Frankenstein because that’s technically his name as well. Solves that problem. Eventually, Gerhardt (as the monster) ends up killing their father after he goes after Victor (still protecting his older brother even after death). Victor locks him away in what looks like a stable, and then tries to shoot him, but he can’t do it. Even after Gerhardt takes the gun and points it at his own head to have Victor put him out of his misery, Victor is a coward and can’t do it.

Character Observations:

Victor/Whale: Poor Victor, he’s just trying to win his father’s approval, but his father is too in love with his younger brother, Gerhardt. We start out with it being Christmas and their father gives Gerhardt their mother’s watch (despite Victor being the elder brother), and he gives Victor a commission to be a physician in the military as there is a war going on. Victor is concerned as it would impede his work. He is obsessed with making the name Frankenstein synonymous with life. Oh, Victor, if you only knew what you will end up making your name synonymous with. Victor’s father threatens to cut off financial support (and use of the summer home which is where the lab is). I mean, no offense, but Victor seems to be in his 30’s right now. He probably should do something to earn his own money so that he can work on his research on the side and not have to rely on the family money for everything. Victor and Igor are packing up the lab when Rumplestiltskin, in all his colored glory, appears and wants to make a deal with Victor. He doesn’t want anyone brought back from the dead, he’s just interested in how Victor does it. He dumps a bag of coins on the floor that keep growing and growing. He wants to learn how to bring people back once Victor figures out how to do it. Rumplestiltskin disappears when Igor comes back, but Victor tells him they’re back in business and they’re going to need a body. Victor is very arrogant. I can see that didn’t change too much when he was Whale. He goes himself to dig up a body (and leaves the carriage right there in the cemetery with him, real stealthy, Victor). Gerhardt finds him there and is appalled. He thought Victor was working with cells and petri dishes. Victor tells him his work has progressed. He thought Gerhardt supported him, but Gerhardt is a little squicked out about digging up dead bodies. And then the guard shoots at them (despite Victor telling him that they have orders and Gerhardt is in uniform). Gerhardt gets shot in the process (and his mother’s pocket watch gets cracked) and dies. Looks like Victor got that body he wanted. And hey, it’s fresh, so even better! Gerhardt is laid out on the slab, and for some reason Victor has cut into his chest (there’s a big line of stitches going down it). I guess it’s for the cool smoking effect we get when the electricity into his body doesn’t work because it’s fried the heart. Victor’s father comes to his lab because someone saw him carrying a body inside. He discovers it’s Gerhardt. He blames Victor and Victor tells him he’s trying to bring him back to life so he’ll have two sons again. His father says he has no sons now. Victor has arrogance and daddy issues. Not a great combo. Victor has Gerhardt in some sort of liquid chamber (I’m assuming something to keep the body fresh). Rumplestiltskin drops by again wondering if the experiment worked, but Victor tells him the hearts can’t withstand the electrical current. Rumplestiltskin says they have hearts that can withstand anything. Victor questions about them having hearts (this is such a weird question, I understand he’s asking about hearts he can specifically use, but it sounds like he’s questioning whether they have hearts at all). Rumplestiltskin gives him the plan that we saw happen in The Doctor and Victor’s on board. And now we are at the end scene from that same episode where Gerhardt is coming back to life (we unfortunately don’t get to hear Victor say “It’s alive!” again). Victor immediately goes and tells his father he brought Gerhardt back to life (why would he do this without waiting a few days to see how he reacts?), but warns him that he’s still adjusting so he’s not the same Gerhardt right now. Gerhardt isn’t looking too good, but his father wants to get a better look at him with the candle. Bad call. Gerhardt knocks the candle away and goes to freak out on the rug. This automatically makes him a monster in his father’s eyes (why? Victor just said he was still adjusting. Listen to your damn son!), and he blames Victor for letting him believe he would have his son back. He lets off a litany of insults towards Victor, and Gerhardt goes into protective brother mode, beating his father until he’s dead. Victor watches the whole thing from a distance and slowly walks over to stop Gerhardt already knowing their father is dead. Victor, asshole that he is in this moment, tells Gerhardt he killed their father, which freaks Gerhardt out and he goes running off. Victor finds Gerhardt in some sort of caged room and tries to talk to him, but Gerhardt is not all there. Victor goes to smooth his hair and Gerhardt freaks and tries to strangle him until he finally realizes it’s Victor. Gerhardt goes to brood in the corner and Victor takes out a gun to shoot his creation, but he can’t do it. Gerhardt takes the gun and points it to his head and pleads with his eyes for him to shoot him, but Victor is determined to save his brother.

Now Whale is all about wallowing this episode. We first see him drinking at the hospital when Hook, Belle, and Greg are brought in. Whale lets Emma and crew know that Greg is bleeding into his chest cavity and needs surgery so he doesn’t drown in his own blood. Emma tells him to fix him because he’s a doctor. Whale asks Gold to fix him, but he refuses. Gold also points out that he’s pretty sure Greg saw him doing magic, so they better hope he dies. Whale asks Emma and crew if they want to let him die. Emma, David, Mary Margaret, and Ruby all think Whale needs to save Greg. Leroy’s not so sure. They tell Whale to prep for surgery. Mary Margaret seems to be the only one who noticed that Whale was drunk. Whale is looking at the watch from Greg’s personal effects, it’s cracked, so it’s reminding him of Gerhardt. David finds him and asks if his arm is okay. Whale immediately says he’s not drunk (that’s not what David asked). David says they need to save him, they don’t let go of people. The crew is waiting to hear from Whale about the surgery when one of the hospital staff comes in looking for him. They discover he’s run off and left his pager and coat behind. Ruby is tasked with tracking him. Whale is at the docks looking at the watch. Ruby finds him there and he tells her not to come near him. He’s really wallowing in self-pity. He throws the watch into the ocean (um, that wasn’t yours) and jumps. Luckily, Ruby has super wolf speed and saves him before he gets too far down. Whale and Ruby are talking. He tells her how he wanted the Frankenstein name to stand for life, but now everyone just thinks it’s the name of the monster (well, since it was your brother, technically it was). He says that magic and science come with a price, and that every time he tries to save a life, someone else dies. Ruby tells him her own woes from being a werewolf, and how Regina actually did them a favor by erasing all the crap they wanted to forget. Whale starts lamenting about how he just wanted to bring life back and maybe if he’d brought his mother back (I’m assuming he was going to say his father would have loved him more), but Ruby cuts him off and says there’s a guy in the hospital who needs his help and he can fix him. Whale does the surgery and Greg pulls through. He thanks Ruby (monster to monster).

Rumplestiltskin/Gold: He is interested in the process of bringing someone one back from the dead. He says he doesn’t actually want to do it, but he wants the knowledge of how it’s done. Why? Does he plan on killing enemies in the future and then bringing them back to torture them some more? It’s never explained here. He basically throws money at Victor, gets him to trick young Regina into giving him a heart, and then we never see him again.

Gold is desperate. The woman he loves has not only been shot, but her memories erased. And whatever Belle’s new personality is, she does not care for Rumple at all. She can barely tolerate him. He immediately uses magic to heal her gunshot wound, and she’s freaking out. Hook takes this opportunity to mock Gold about how he took Belle just like he took Milah, and Gold starts beating the crap out of him (is this how it will always be between these two, Gold beating the hell out of Hook? Because that’s going to get old pretty fast). Emma and David try to get him off of Hook but he’s stronger. Emma makes a point that murdering someone in front of an amnesiac Belle is not a good first impression to make. David asks him what Belle would want, and who knows if that gets him off of Hook or the ambulance does, but Gold finally relents. At the hospital, Gold attempts to True Love Kiss a sleeping Belle. Guess no one told him that True Love’s Kiss doesn’t work on people with memory problems. Belle freaks out when she realizes it’s the mystery man who kissed her. Gold runs off yelling he’s sorry. Whale asks Gold to help him heal the stranger, but Gold says he’s pretty sure the guy saw him doing magic, so maybe it would be better if he didn’t survive. And he’s really not nice about it in the least. Gold is in his shop staring longingly at the chipped cup, when he hears someone enter the shop. He doesn’t see anyone but he does see a box. It’s Cora. Gold says he expected this but had rather hoped she was dead. That was way harsh, Tai. Cora insists her gift is a peace offering. Gold wants to know what Cora wants for the gift. She just wants Gold to leave Regina alone so she can bond with her again. He wants to know what he gets, she says his son and motions to the box. It’s a white sphere with a spindle needle on top. Gold is in awe. Cora tells him he wants him to find the one person who might love him like she is doing. Gold is a little humbled by this and asks if she has any memory restoring spells or potions (he can’t even look at her when he asks this). Cora claims she knows what he has taught her, and then she calls him Master for good measure. They call a truce (though Gold is really hesitant), and Cora wants to seal it the way used to, with a kiss. Ew. Gold doesn’t seem too thrilled about it either. Gold goes back to Belle’s hospital room with the chipped cup (that he has now charmed) and tries to get her to remember by having her hold it and look at it. Belle gets frustrated because every time she tries to give it back Gold forces it back into her hands, so she ends up throwing it across the room and shattering it. Gold seriously looks like he’s going to have a heart attack at the shattered cup. Gold goes back to his shop and uses Cora’s present. He sticks his finger on the needle and then drops blood on the globe, which transforms into an actual globe and there’s a darker part on the eastern seaboard where Bae apparently is. Gold comes to the loft and pretty much demands that Emma will be fulfilling the favor she owes him. He says it will be today because otherwise he’s going to kill Hook. He also threatens the whole Charming family by telling them that if anything happens to Belle while he’s away, he’ll kill them all. Well, isn’t he a ball of sunshine?

Regina/Cora: I’m putting these two together since most of their scenes are together or at least about each other. So after Cora pays a visit to Gold, she goes snooping through Regina’s house for clues on how to get to her. She finds a picture of Regina and Henry and a clay hand print that says For Mommy on it. Then we see Henry going to the crypt to look for Regina, but it’s really Cora disguised as Henry. Regina hears Henry calling for her and looks at him through the magic mirror. Regina lets him in and is so happy to see him. She tells him she was framed and he tells her he knows. Regina is confused how he knows, and that’s when he poufs into Cora and admits to framing her. Regina is not happy to see Mommy Dearest. Regina is scared. She’s edging backward away from Cora. She doesn’t understand how Cora is there. Cora tells her she understands why Regina banished her to Wonderland and tried to kill her. Cora tells her it’s all right and Regina is adamant that it’s not all right that she tried to do that (aww, Regina’s learning to feel bad for what she did). Cora and Regina are both practically in tears when Cora tells Regina that she loves her and just didn’t show it very well. And she never should have made Regina marry the king. Regina crying over her coffin changed her. Regina isn’t buying it. Cora framed her for murder. Cora says she did it only to show Regina what the others thought of her. Regina says the case was pretty airtight, anyone would have believed it. Cora changes tactics, she didn’t want Regina to reject her. Regina sees right through that and says Cora wanted her broken (she knows her mother so well). Regina calls Cora out on being manipulative (yes, yes she is) and starts to argue with her, but she’d rather Cora confess everything to Emma, Henry, and the two idiots (ha!). Cora owes her that. Cora wants to know if that will let them start over but Regina doesn’t see that happening. She says she’s trying to be worthy of Henry and she expects Cora to do the same for her. Go Regina for finally getting a backbone against her mother! And it would seem like Cora really wants to make a go of all this, if it weren’t for the next scene. Regina and Cora are driving into town and Regina wonders if Cora is nervous about confessing. Cora claims it’s just the strange carriage, and then comments that something is irritating her. Oh, look, it’s the clay hand print from Regina’s house. Regina knows she stole that from her house because it’s one of her most prized possessions. Cora says that letting the town know that she was behind Archie’s fake murder will gain her some points, but as long as Emma and her parents are around, Henry will never be hers. Regina was right before, manipulator to the extreme! Cora continues, saying that Regina’s been bad for too long and they’ll never see her as anything else. What does Regina really want from them? Regina just wants Henry back. And Cora just wants Regina back. She claims she meant everything she said earlier and she really will try to make things better between them. Cora asks Regina to let her into her heart (considering Cora probably doesn’t have hers that’s pretty rich coming from her), together they can get Henry back together. And Regina buys it; hook, line, and sinker. I get it, I do. Regina hasn’t had anyone to love her since her father. Henry loved her until he figured out who she was, but it’s not the same as parental love. And all Regina’s ever wanted is her mother to love her. But Cora just lied to her face about being in her house and Regina’s just going to embrace her? What the hell? Regina you are so much stronger than this. And the fact that Cora already has a few thoughts on how to get Henry back, that does not bode well at all.

Emma/Mary Margaret/David: Since they’re pretty much together for this entire episode, they will all be grouped together. Emma, David, and Mary Margaret all arrive at the town line. Mary Margaret goes to take care of Belle since she has no memories. Emma goes over to Hook. She doesn’t seem that surprised to see him, more annoyed than anything else. Hook is still making innuendos to Emma even with broken ribs. He has some choice words for Gold who Emma and David have to restrain when he attacks Hook. Emma and David finally get Gold off of Hook by appealing to the Belle side of things, saying that Belle wouldn’t want him to do this and that murdering someone isn’t a good first impression. The ambulances arrive and Emma directs them to take the stranger first and then Hook. They realize that the guy in the car came into Storybrooke. It’s chaos at the hospital. Emma tells the hospital staff to hide Hook (so Gold doesn’t go after him). She visits him in his room and immediately asks where Cora is. Hook notices he’s cuffed to the bed and asks Emma if she’s ‘really into this?’ Emma asks him again where Cora is, but he’s too busy flirting with her, so she presses into his cracked ribs (ow!). Hook has no idea where Cora is, they each had their own agendas. He does want his Hook back though.  He continues to flirt with Emma who is having none of it.  Emma thinks he’s awfully chipper for someone who pissed off his enemy and got hit by a car. Hook’s just happy he hurt Gold, even if he had to hurt Belle to do it. Emma’s so not impressed. She tells him she’s picking him for dead guy of the year after everything he just did to Gold. Hook smiles a genuine smile and Emma smiles a genuine smile back. What just happened here? Mary Margaret and David are trying to break into Greg’s phone to get info about him. Emma apparently has some kind of plug in that can figure out the passcode. They use that to find out he travels the east coast and he tweets pictures of his food. They are more concerned about the fact that whatever has kept people out of Storybrooke is gone. Mary Margaret says they need to find Regina but Ruby’s been tracking her and can’t find her. Mary Margaret is freaking out about if Cora finds Regina first and the damage they could do together. Whale informs them about the bleeding into the chest cavity with Greg and they seriously have a discussion on whether to let him die of his injuries or save him. Mary Margaret notices that Whale is drunk. David goes to talk to Whale who claims he’s not drunk when David questions him about his arm. David’s more concerned with saving the guy and getting him out of town. The crew is waiting for the surgery to be over and Greg’s phone keeps ringing. Mary Margaret thinks they should answer it to let whomever it is know that Greg’s alive. David doesn’t want them tracing the call, but Emma informs them that they can use the phone tracker app without even opening the phone. Then they find out that Whale left and hasn’t even started the surgery. Ruby goes off to track Whale and Mary Margaret suggests maybe Doc can do the surgery. And then the best conversation. David says Whale’s not been himself since bringing back Regina’s dead fiance, which surprises Mary Margaret. Emma comments that he’s like a Frankenstein and David confirms that’s who he is. Mary Margaret wonders what the hell happened when they were in the EF. Whale patches him up and Emma wants to go talk to him. Mary Margaret wants to come along, but Emma reminds her they’re trying to be an ordinary small town. Only the sheriff would question someone after an accident. David and Mary Margaret reluctantly agree. Emma goes in to see Greg and asks him to state what he saw in his own words, yet she’s all but practically screaming, ‘if you saw something weird I’m sure I can explain it.” He claims he was texting and saw nothing and he knows that’s illegal in Maine. Emma lets him off with a warning. She happily tells her family that they’re in the clear because Greg didn’t see anything. Emma, David, and Mary Margaret head back to the loft to eat and then sleep, since they’ve been up all night. Unfortunately, this is when Gold decides he must find his son and Emma is helping him do it.

Questions:

Who called Emma about what happened at the town line? I very much doubt Gold did.

Why is there always thunder and lightning at Victor’s lab?

Where are the hospital staff when Gold kisses Belle in her room?

How on earth does Hook only manage to get a few broken ribs, cuts, and bruises after getting hit by a car, and Greg ends up with bleeding into his chest cavity when he was protected by a car? Is Hook’s leather really that protective?

Greg’s ringtone is the Star Wars theme.

Gold and Cora used to seal deals with a kiss. Does that mean they were involved once? 

Why is there a guard at a cemetery? Were there that many grave robbers around that a guard with a shotgun was a necessary thing?

Where are the electrodes that Victor is using on Gerhardt when he flicks the switch? Is everything inside the body? Is that why he has stitches everywhere?

How far away is this summer home that Gerhardt and Victor’s father can come over at the drop of the hat? Shouldn’t a summer home be somewhere other than where you live?

How does Cora know where Regina’s crypt is and that the entrance is under Henry, Sr.'s coffin?

Exactly how long has it been since Whale ran off? Shouldn’t Greg be drowning in his blood by now? Mary Margaret and everyone thought the surgery had already started at one point.

Where is Gerhardt being held? It looks like a dungeon or holding cell.

Is Victor’s visit to Gerhardt later than the night he killed their father? Gerhardt’s uniform is now clean with no flecks of blood on it and Victor is in an entirely different outfit.

Is Gerhardt still alive back in the Land Without Color?

I’m sure Greg is relieved that Emma doesn’t arrest him for texting, but would he really believe that after hitting someone while texting the sheriff doesn’t arrest him?

Henry points out that Frankenstein is not in the book. How did the curse get him? Did Regina pluck people from other lands that she felt wronged her or she wanted cursed just for the fun of it?

How was Gold planning on looking for his son before the globe thing Cora gave him? Was he just going to search the entire US?

Observations:

Victor’s father gets him a commission into the Mobile 34th as their Camp Physician.

Leroy mentions the movies E.T and Splash.

Mary Margaret chews her nails when she’s nervous.

Igor says them bringing Gerhardt back to life is magic, while Victor says it’s science. Well, hate to break it to you, but it’s both. You have a magic heart and scientific electrical currents.

Regina has a fully furnished hidden room/apartment under the crypt.

There is a bar called The Rabbit Hole.

Greg is going to pull through but needs a few weeks to recuperate.

Emma’s superpower doesn’t seem to be working since Greg lied about seeing anything, when he apparently saw something. She even thanks him for being honest.

Names: 

Gregory means watchful and alert, which, from the end phone conversation, we can see that he definitely is. Also, Greg Mendell is really close to the name Gregor Mendel, who is known as the Father of Genetics (remember the Punnett Squares you had to do in school, that was him). I have no idea if that means anything, but I feel like his name isn’t an accident.

Gerhardt is derived from Gerard which means brave and hearty, which Gerhardt definitely is.

Another very good episode. I’m interested to see how Greg plays into things, because I doubt someone just stumbled upon Storybrooke. It’s not like you need to drive through it to get anywhere. Plus it’s on the ocean so there’s nowhere else to go. I’m also interested in Gold and Emma’s little trip. Will Emma be able to find Baelfire? And what’s going to happen to Belle if she doesn’t remember? She didn’t have a personality before, she was just locked in the mental ward during the curse.

Please leave comments and reblog! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future reviews.

@searchingwardrobes​​ @thisonesatellite​​ @justbecauseyoubelievesomething​​ @laschatzi​​ @profdanglaisstuff​​ @mariakov81​

[crazynekochan]

Omegaverse Fantasy/Steampunk-ish AU: Kazuichi, Hajime, Mikan, Chiaki, Nekomaru, Imposter, Sonia, Fuyuhiko, Mahiru, and Teruteru are all working/travelling on a newly built flying passenger ship as part of the ship’s maiden voyage over a mostly uncharted continent to get to a major city on the other side because Sonia, Imposter, and Fuyuhiko are working as diplomats and Mahiru is a reporter recording everything for her readers (despite being the designer of the ship, Kazuichi is just /suffering/ here and spending most of the journey below deck, whimpering in misery whenever the ship hits turbulence).

While the ship is going through a patch of storm, it suddenly gets hit with a massive surge of lightning and crashes into the forest below, miraculously leaving all the crew unharmed (albeit scattered into groups of 1 or 2 around the landing site and all unconscious) and the ship fully functional with the exception of all the fuel (magical crystals that conducted electricity through them to operate the ship) being either spent or rendered non-functional.

They all wake up in a big old temple, all tied to each other in a circle, with Hajime, Kazuichi, and Fuyuhiko in the front, facing the back of the hall. At the front of the room, a group of young people in old-fashioned clothes are arguing with an elder in slightly more modern clothes in a language that no one understands, not even Sonia, but they can all tell that the argument is referring to them and the elder does not look very happy.

The group of young people are Nagito, Gundham, Ibuki, Hiyoko, Peko, Kyoko, and Akane, who were heading into the temple near the forest to do a “find your true love” ceremony when they heard a huge crash just a few minutes away from them. They all ran to check and found the ship crashed into a clearing with everyone on board unconscious and either still in the ship or scattered around. The group brought them to the temple to ask the elder, Jin, what they should do about them, since the last time newcomers came was when a young Jin and his baby daughter Kyoko ended up lost in the jungle on an expedition.

Everyone but Akane and Hiyoko has already fallen in love with one of the castaways (Ibuki fell in love with both Chiaki and Mikan) and they think that this is a sign that they should keep them as gifts from the gods. Jin is much more cautious since these people just crash landed and they could be confused and violent and he’s really grown to get attached to these kids (they’re all functional exiles from the main tribes either because of magical abilities (Gundham and Ibuki), odd appearances that suggest malicious witchcraft (Hiyoko and Peko), issues with their family debts (Akane and her many sibilings), perceived cursed nature (Nagito) or not being from any of the tribes in the area (the Kirigiris)) and doesn’t want them hurt.

Kyoko notices that the group is all awake and let’s the arguers know, which stops the argument for the time being. Jin tells the crash group everything that they need to know (the crash and discovery, why they’re all tied up, where they are (a forest near the coast of the uncharted continent), etc.). When Kazuichi asks about how their ship is, since they need to fix it to continue their journey or at least to get to civilization, Jin decides to have them all taken to the crash site, with the natives keeping an eye on them (everyone with a crush is mostly using it as an excuse to stay near their crushes) so Kazuichi could inspect it himself.

Kazuichi declares the ship pretty much functional but almost completely useless except for shelter and the remaining food and medicine because all of the fuel is just gone, which makes everyone who crashed upset.

Jin offers to let them all stay at their mini-village for the time being, since they can’t get back to their regular lives right away. After some deliberation, they all accept but not before removing all their stuff from the ship because Kazuichi’s not super sure that it won’t explode or start leaking noxious fumes from the destroyed fuel crystals.

The castaways end up spending about 13 months in the village, learning about everyone in the exiled youth village and their larger civilization (It started from a travelling group that split off from the standard civilization about 800 years before. Their culture has so much nuance and brilliant architecture and art, it’s amazing) and teaching the village about their civilization and technology in return, once Jin manages to teach them enough of the native language to not have to communicate solely through hand gestures and facial expressions.

Along the way, people end up falling in love and become mates, the first being Kazuichi and Gundham, once Kazuichi managed to find out that Gundham was trying to awkwardly court him (which he didn’t realize due to obliviousness and cutural differences), who had a lovely mating ceremony where everyone attended, Nekomaru and Fuyuhiko cried (Fuyu cried a little, Nekomaru cried a lot) during it, and Akane and her siblings had to be bribed in the reception feast by Teruteru to not interrupt the ceremony with commentary.

Meanwhile, everyone who knew the castaways is absolutely freaking the hell out (a princess and some of the most brilliant minds of a generation were all on that ship) and searching for them like mad, with Izuru leading the head search party, which included some of the friends and family if the castaways to at least get some closure if nothing else. Their efforts were mostly fruitless until they finally find the crashed ship with Kazuichi and Gundham inside because Kaz still wants to keep the best invention of his life in tip top shape. After some very enthusiastic reunions when Kazuichi and Gundham take the search party back to the village and most of the castaways meet their friends and families for the first time in months, Izuru investigates just how the ship crashed, since Kazuichi couldn’t find anything even after 13 months and those fuel crystals were supposed to outlast the ship itself. Izuru uses some of his magic to trace back whether the malfunction was magical in nature (Kazuichi can’t use magic, so he wouldn’t know if it had something to do with magic and Gundham doesn’t trust technology) and immediately gets hit with a force of malice and most importantly Despair and recognizes it as Junko Enoshima. Junko, a manipulative sorceress, wanted to drive the world into despair by killing off some of the greatest minds of the generation and maybe start a few wars while she’s at it by blaming rival countries for shooting down the crown princess and a few other diplomats from two wealthy kingdoms. But the spell didn’t wreck the ship or kill anyone, just wrecked their fuel and left them stranded.

After making a solemn vow to get rid of Junko when they get back to civilization for trying to kill his brother, Izuru gets a bunch of spare fuel crystals from the search party’s supply and helps Kazuichi reinstall them into the engine, bringing the ship back to fully operational, which is great because the search party has been in this jungle for around a year at this point and they are really getting homesick.

Everyone, including the villagers, who all decide to come along, all pack up their things and arrive to the ship’s original destination much to the surprise of everyone who thought they were dead and they pretty much became famous for discovering an entire civilization, with Mahiru’s pictures and Jin’s story giving an excellent look into the culture and lifestyles of the people living there. And yes, the villagers all experience life in the ‘modern’ day, with some definite and absolutely hilarious culture shocks that are mediated through having a bunch of friends who can navigate through it, even after being missing for over a year. And yes, Izuru did get rid of Junko.

(A/N: I should really be studying but forget it, I needed to write this before I forget about it. Please leave some feedback!)

(Mod: I hope your studying is going well ♥

Omegaverse, steampunk and fantasy in one, I have to be in heaven because these are my three top favourite AUs/tropes of all time ♥

I feel so sorry for Kazuichi. He build that airship and has to probably sometimes check if everything is working as intended but the poor guy would feel so sick on a constant basis and simply be in hell instead of enjoying the marvel of his groundbreaking invention

The terror everyone felt when the ship suddenly got struck by lightning and causing them to fall out of the sky and to crash into the middle of nowhere must have been pure horror for them all. When they then also wake up alive, but realise they are tied up in a temple and surrounded by some people in strange clothing things couldn’t get any worse. They survived a crash landing to presumably be tortured to death in some temple by some ancient tribe. Since no one can speak their language it’s also impossible to reason with them. But most of them couldn’t deny that they at least looked good, but doesn’t make the possibility of death much better. Luckily Jin can actually speak Japanese and so everything is quickly solved

The “modern” group probably had a lot of fun in the middle of a gigantic forest because of all the wildlife and dangerous nature around them ^^” All of them grew up in towns and cities and at the max only saw a small forest which is nothing against this. They probably had to have one of the natives always accompany them before any of them got lost or ends up seriously harming themselves. Also I could imagine that Kaz would for his life never understand how Gundham could look at a deadly animal that happens to cross their path and decide that this is his newest pet. Btw nothing better than Kaz being an oblivious idiot in love

Also I love the backstory that you came up with for the tribe members, giving everyone a different yet believable reason as for why they are in their current mismatched tribe

I can just imagine how Izuru is in the meanwhile taking every part of the continent apart together with the royal family and the other big name families, while their missing relatives are happily courting and mating some native tribe members in the middle of nowhere. Izuru would also stomp everyone who even dares to suggest that his twin is probably dead into the ground without mercy because there is no way that Hajime died. I could also imagine that his stoic face completely broke when he actually found Hajime safe and sound after searching for him for over a year. Like just imagine how sweet it would be that Izuru actually is brought to tears from relieve to finally seeing his twin again and just hugging him

At least until he notices that Hajime’s scent changed and that he has a mating mark on the back of his neck, because then he would glare at Nagito who’s scent matches the one sticking to his twins whole body. Luckily Hajime would quickly calm his twin that everything is consensual and that he and Nagito are willingly mated because they love each other)

[calleo-bricriu]

Finally, FINALLY, the author uses detail. Sort of. In some parts. But mostly not.

Continuing on...

Right, so, chapter 7, surprisingly doesn't have a time skip.

It's just Mizpra on the train with some long author monologing about how evil and twisted she is but he never really explains how or why just that "to kill, destroy, cause misery, and produce unhappiness was her life."

For a change he's briefly nice to her by saying she's clever, talented, and almost a genius but then goes on about how not really because she's selfish and gross.

"She did not understand or realise that she herself was the product of the last feeble efforts of exhausted ancestors." Wow.

Paragraph about how Mizpra is basically evil because she doesn't want to get married or have kids or have a sex life or any of that and it goes right into Leigh knowing that all because Leigh, being a genius, enabled him to realise it.

Why are we even talking about Leigh? He's not on the train.

Long paragraph about how children born to women with "nervous exhaustion" (again, not really a real thing) or to older women were basically trash that nobody should want and also makes for...infertile children somehow. This author is a doctor. A medical degree holding doctor, just in case you'd forgotten.

Few more pages rambling on and on about why Mizpra is evil and that only serves to make me still feel a bit bad for her because, so far, she hasn't really done anything all that terrible; the worst she's done so far is humiliate a student for wearing a corset and marry a guy for his typing abilities.

He keeps bringing god into it but, in all honesty, after reading seven chapters of this book he's convinced me that if one does exist it sure as hell isn't merciful.

Psychic conditions mean you can't have reasonable children.

Oh! Finally we get a description of an Evil Thing she's been at! She took a course on bacteriology which, whatever that is, would probably make her better at being a doctor than Leigh, for the sole purpose of sending Leigh's entire family contaminated mail. Cool initial thought but germs spread so she could also inadvertently cause an actual plague.

Her lab has a bunch of mouse and rat cages but, for some reason, they're not in there; they're in the bread. Comically poking their little heads and tails out of the...bread that I sincerely hope she won't eat.

Some descriptions of a bunch of dying rabbits in other cages that had all been infected with whatever disease she was working on.

Cotton tipped tubes are not going to contain pneumonia, diphtheria, typhoid, cholera, 'blood poisoning', or tetanus (sorry, lockjaw) and she really shouldn't be keeping them like that.

Oh, but this is common and "bacteriologists" just carry them around willy-nilly like that because they're--I mean, honestly, it's probably because constant low level exposure has given them immunity so, inadvertently discovering how vaccines work while not knowing that's what's happened.

We find out that, for some reason, she's particularly focused on killing Leigh's kid which is odd because there has never been much mention of her disliking that particular child, just all children. Also, it's 1901, just wait, he's got a pretty high chance of dying before the age of 10 anyway, especially living in a city.

She's a near genius level "bacteriologist" in the plot at this point and can't figure out how to spread diphtheria.

Air.

It spreads through the air.

Just powder it up and mail it along.

Or coat some baby toys with it, I guess that's the route we're going.

All right, so we've got the Baby Murder plan underway. It’s better than a few other Baby Murder plans I’ve heard over the years but, since we’re not even half way through the book I doubt Baby Murder Attempt #1 will fail.

A few scenes of her very nearly getting off to watching her lab animals die while also thinking, in a bizarre level of detail for this book, of a baby dying. Getting a little weird there, Mizpra.

How is it this author can detail that and detail all the ways the alb animals are suffering but couldn't be bothered to add any details to anything else?

Diphtheria doesn't need to enter through a slight wound, Mizpra, it just has to be present. It's very easily airborne and will also likely spread to anyone else that walks into that house until everyone is dead and they use fire as a way to clean the building.

So she goes out, gets a rattle and a whistle, goes back to her lab, files the whistle so it's likely to cut the kid's mouth then applies the "venomous bacilli" (Diphtheria is not venomous...) onto it all and wrapping it up in steralised cotton which would definitely have killed a lot of the diphtheria on there but, 1901 and nobody knows how infectious disease works.

Mizpra, we now find out when some professor addresses her as Dr. Newcomber, does, in fact, hold some sort of doctorate degree. Good for her.

He takes her back to his office and tells her, what amounts to, "Please stop leaving dead animals all over the lab, it's rude to the other students."

Long lecture about how she's coming off as kind of really fucking creepy by doing that and by being pointlessly cruel to the lab animals, she basically just rolls her eyes and asks him if he's done talking yet.

Which made him decide to fire her. She asked him again if he was done talking, and he went. off. on her for how careless she was in the lab and how thoughtless she was in regards to the other people that also had to use the lab which prompts her to start--reading--poetry out loud.

For whatever reason, despite being in Colorado, and despite Professor Ridge not being German she decides to start calling him "Herr Professor" then says goodbye in...French.

His farewell was, "There are no women of genius; the women of genius are men," so at this point, I'm kind of okay with him maybe getting diphtheria as well for that.

It hasn't been mentioned if she mailed the diseased baby toys yet but, they're all going to California now.

On to Chapter 8.

Back in New York with Obera.

There is no e in dachshund, a dachshund that is being mishandled by Obera's kid who still does not have a name, or, rather, his name hasn't been told to any of us reading.

Oh.

"Leigh, Jr." which is normal enough for about two seconds until you read on and the rest of the sentence says, "or, as he was called, Mops". The servant from the place in Hamburg gave him that nickname and that's just what we're going to call the kid now I guess.

Mops.

Obera has gone from the creepy child like girl in the "fascinating toque" to "proud and handsome in the full bloom of matronly womanhood" which is equally creepy sounding just in a different way.

Leigh is, of course, still a published author now and people love him for some inexplicable reason. I still sort of want to backhand him, he's so pretentious and doesn't even have the intellect to back it up.

"Leigh now counted his friends by the hundred". Sure.

They get into an argument about Leigh being a dick at work and Obera reminding him that he really needs to stop doing that shit before he ends up fired again and of course he lectures her on how her silly woman brain couldn't possibly comprehend his genius behaviour.

Can we just skip to the "infect the entire house and possibly city block with diphtheria" subplot here? Because I'm definitely more interested in that than I am in listening to this idiot wax philosophic and say nothing at all for dozens of pages on end.

Not yet? Okay.

Oh! No, few pages further and the diphtheria soaked toys have arrived!

Obera, having some good sense, was super suspicious at receiving a box addressed to a 3 year old, just sort of locked it in drawer to think about what the hell it might be. She assumes Mizpra sent it and that it’s probably poisoned or infected with something which I’d normally say is intuition but, she would have no way of even beginning to think Mizpra had the skills to do that (let alone the access to materials) so we’re going to go with metagaming here; Obera is clearly reading the story along with us.

Anyway, she sends the package to Dr. Bell so maybe someone else will be getting the diphtheria. Just doing a quick look up, in New York around 1900, the average fatality rate for diphtheria was--1,227 deaths in 1901, which is about a 15% rate, of the 7,726 cases reported in Manhattan and The Bronx, which is the area these people are living in.

So, her plan was kind of bad from the beginning; it had a 15% success chance IF it got to the point of infecting the kid.

Pneumonia, tuberculosis, and cholera would have been better, more likely to kill the kid choices. Cholera usually knocks over young children pretty fast.

Or just poison. You have a lab, you probably can easily get cyanide.

Not telling you how to go about your baby murdering plans here, Mizpra, just saying you're not exactly picking the ideas with high chances of success or doing it with any subtlety since they kind of immediately figured out it was from you and probably contaminated somehow.

And on to chapter 9!

Dr. Bell, probably being a real doctor, ran some tests and explained the results to Obera which, of course, made her faint immediately. She does that a lot.

So as she's sort of starting to wake up she starts screaming over and over that Leigh needs to kill her; her being Mizpra. Fair enough response to just finding out your sister in law tried to infect your entire family and specifically your child with diphtheria which had an--admittedly low death rate but still a 15% chance of it.

Leigh, in a surprising moment of clarity asks the other doctor if he knows what she's talking about, he says yes, then Leigh goes with, "NO TIME FOR EXPLANATIONS!" and tries to do medical care things on Obera.

Eventually  he goes with, "Okay yeah, I'll kill Mizpra for you."

Dr. Bell, the only sane person in the room, tries to talk him out of that and apparently a pulse of 120 is something we should know the meaning of.

So he's gonna lock himself in a room and not drink just to see what happens. What happened was he stayed awake for three solid days and that's it, only it took several pages to say that because we're supposed to feel sorry for this guy.

Several pages of a rambling story about a morphine addict not part of this story.

More pages of Leigh being mad at religion for no reason whatsoever.

Charlie listens to him ramble about how much he hates religion for the rest of the chapter then tells him he's such a well educated genius and leaves.

[connywrites]

quicksands of the mind

and the sinkholes you may find

-

content warnings for suicidal ideation, self-harm

He hadn’t wanted to kill himself in a long time. Even on a bad day, he’d tell himself he didn’t want to attempt suicide at all, but the deeper scars in jagged horizontal lines down his forearms reminded him otherwise. There wasn’t much memory with them aside from waking up in the hospital with blurry vision, unable to hear properly while the nurses asked questions, watching him jitter and shake. Watching him dig and pull at his own skin and having to pull him away, just short of restraining him as he wasn’t actually violent and didn’t have enough strength to do any real damage, but having to make sure he’d keep his hands to himself for the rest of the night.

Death, itself, was a far-fetched concept for someone who had always avoided it by the skin of his teeth. Leo had gotten in fights, been mugged, stabbed, smacked, punched, hit, crashed his motorcycle and wound up in the hospital with grave injuries and a permanent limp, taken bullets, and while a fair collection of his scars were self-induced, they were never quite so severe as to what others had done to him. It fed into the idea that he was a coward if he wasn’t brave enough to take it to the next level, but the thought that maybe it was because he simply didn’t want to die had revisited him more than once.

Thus it left him in a battle against himself, in a dark room, surrounded by comfortable blankets, a warm meal and some candles, as Markus made a habit of setting up. His old friends would be jealous; he knew they would because he experienced that exact envy ever since Markus came to be. To be birthed into a perfect world, to live with wealth and gratitude, to want to give and to be given back to, to live with someone that gave and gave and gave so much; the person that was his own father, in a home that could have been his own, with kindness and empathy that he could have had. Love was theoretically a natural deterrence against misery; why would you make the ones that cared about you suffer by letting yourself go, giving yourself the freedom of nonexistent peace while they were left to pick up the ugly pieces? Suicide was the coward’s way out, yet it somehow felt more embarrassing to try and get someone else to do the job, whether they knew your intentions or not.

Carl gave and gave, and he took and took, and Leo had the audacity to be angry when his gentle-hearted father stopped giving, trying to pull it to a full stop 28 years into his life. Well overdue, in his mind. The tears stung his eyes and the knot swelled in his throat, and the nausea welled in his stomach as he remembered everything he’d done. The way he’d spoken to him, the way he torn him and his life down with all of the 5 swear words he seemed to hold in his very limited vocabulary.

You won’t help me, so I’ll just help myself.

A vile, evil person, he’d convinced himself he was long before he could differentiate himself from the drugs. Feeling like a shitty person before he ever hit puberty and long after he’d left his teenage years behind, it took multiple hospital visits, near-death experiences and long nights doing things he’d regret with worse emotions than he’d convinced himself the rage ever was; it took multiple attempts to sober up to differentiate that it wasn’t him at all.

Red ice made him angry, and withdrawals from red ice made him angry. Sobriety left him miserable, and since he’d convinced himself he’d be miserable no matter what, he could certainly allow the excuse to do drugs. To get into fights, to stare down the barrel of a gun while he challenged the trigger finger until it blew, to antagonize and steal and lie and believe that it was all worthwhile in the favor of why wouldn’t I do it, anyway? And life doesn’t mean anything in the end or if I’m going to die young, I might as well make it fun.

None of it was fun. Nothing was worthwhile and it never lasted longer than a burnt soda can with singed ashes resting in the bottomside curve, dripping into the container that’d been full of cola he’d poured down the drain after jabbing the holes, too nauseous to ever consider taking a drink.

Seeing red.

All his life. His mother, his father, his lack of any sort of care-giving whatsoever made it all too obvious that nobody was going to care and subsequently, why should he? His birth was an accident. His mother was paid to raise him, and when the money was gone, so were her patience.

He knew what that was like. Maybe he got it from her. Carl was such a saint with seemingly eternal intelligence and wisdom, he could barely believe they were related by blood. So lead to the delusion between years ten and twenty-two that he might have been – probably was – adopted until he finally couldn’t take it anymore and had to look up the family history.

He was never in the old photographs, his mother too embarrassed to include him in such a thing.

Then again, she didn’t have any pictures of Carl either. He wondered who were in all those photos on her walls were supposed to be, let alone if they ever really meant anything to her.

Photos were artificial, mirrored captures of the past, and why would you hold onto that? He couldn’t think of a moment he’d want to take a picture of, that he was happy about or proud of. He never smiled in the camera – sometimes he glowered into to lens from afar when he was in group photos at the parties, tagged for some kind of crazy escapades he’d taken part in on the social media platforms until those people, too, grew tired of him. Stupid, boring, violent. What’s your problem? What the fuck is wrong with you?

‘What is wrong with me?’ There was a suffocating discomfort as he took in his surroundings, the disassociation spell abruptly ending as he realized where he was again.

Everything. Everything was wrong.

Nothing. The drugs were wrong.

When nothing felt right, he did what he’d always done; left the area to go on a long walk until his legs hurt and he’d exhausted himself, physically and eventually mentally, awake on days-long insomnia binges until his brain couldn’t function. Time wasn’t a fathomable concept to him at the moment so he didn’t bother checking the clock or otherwise identify the surroundings for indications, staggering in a tired daze as he’d walked towards the door.

Leo knew he would be there as soon as he opened it, as Markus had a nature to do – particularly when he was in a bad place. He had no idea if he’d been there the whole time, nearby, or somehow heard his thoughts from across the mansion with his super-sonic bat hearing, but either way, he’d always come even when he wasn’t summoned.

In the past, it was unnerving. Sometimes it was scary. Usually it was annoying.

Tonight, it was nothing short of appreciated.

“Bro,” he murmured with a strain in his voice, something like an agitated whine as he acted outright bothered by his presence.

“Brother,” Markus replied with only slight mock-disdain wrapped within his sincere concern, as he didn’t feel so much like reciprocating whatever deflection Leo was trying to give in regard to his bad mood. Leo may have tried to be secretive about his depression, but the signs were there; from skipping meals, isolation, and losing sleep to the fatigue, lack of ability to focus or concentrate, the way he moved slower on his feet and seemed to be in a daze, how his limp got worse as the aches in his joints increased. How long had Leo showed symptoms that he’d felt this way? Two weeks ongoing. Why? Markus wasn’t sure, only able to shuffle through his library of estimated guesses, and even then, he preferred not to in favor of avoiding the mistake of making assumptions. Leo’s business was his own, and by now, he knew he could share it if he so felt the need.

The tears wasted no time returning to Leo’s swollen, baggy eyes, sclera reddened from the strain of lacking what he physically needed and feeling too many emotions that he didn’t.

Markus opened his arms and he was all too eager to fall into them, letting his body grow weak. Not unlike the way he did the boy’s father, Markus shifted to kneel and prompted Leo to do similarly, curling his arms around the back of his legs while he let his body grow lax, finally able to trust as Markus scooped him up in his arms. Fingers curling into the fabrics of the soft, white cotton sweater, he hid his face into his chest as he let himself be carried away from the room.

For a long time, Leo refused to be looked after, and for a short time, Markus refused to pamper him. Eventually, they’d learned to meld Markus’ natural design as a caretaker, as well as Leo’s neglected internal need to be taken care of. Now, it had nearly come naturally for both of them.

Markus knew the signal for the routine, wandering to the bathroom, ensuring he was gentle as he settled Leo on the stool that he’d returned to the area – it was Carl’s to use when he was brought in for the oral hygiene routine, now left by the bathtub rather than the sink so Leo could sit down without being on the floor as Markus was aware of his exhaustion, always present and ever-increasing. The less energy he used, the better. While Leo settled in the space he was given, Markus leaned to turn on the faucet, adjusting it to a warm temperature but avoiding the hotter end in case of inducing a fever.

“Arms up.” With his head down as he was already half dozing off in his seat, Leo straightened up to look at him through squinted eyes, taking a few seconds to understand the command before doing as he was asked. Careful not to further alarm or hurt him, Markus took the shirt by the hem and pulled it up over his shoulders, then along his arms until it was peeled off.

“Would you like me to?” The subject was touchy, so he never finished the sentence. Leo responded with an awkward nod, crooked as his body swayed. Reaching for the waistband of Leo’s pants to tuck his fingers beneath the rim the same way he had with the sweater, it took a bit of nudging to peel them down and away, his attention focused on Leo’s face for the sake of the man’s own dignity even if he wasn’t entirely coherently aware of the situation. Once the clothes were folded and put to the side, he rose to his feet to reach under Leo’s arms in the proper, harmless way so as to lift him and bring him to the bath.

It was personal, and some might consider it intimate; now, it had become nothing more than natural.

“S’this what it was like with dad?” Feeling the warmth of the bath warm his feet, then his ankles, up to his legs, Leo roused, feeling another bout of tears roll down his cheeks. He wasn’t sure why, losing track of the reason for his despair hours, days, weeks ago.

“Somewhat,” Markus replied simply. Leo was in no condition to make conversation, but he also respected the fact it seemed to help him to speak. With his hands making way to the water, Leo watched the flow of transparent liquid, feeling a bit more awake from the sensations and temperature change.

“I loved him. I really did.” That was why he was crying, and the waterworks were only encouraged by his increasing depression. Settling on the floor next to the tub in a comfortable position, Markus reached forward to thumb the tears from his cheeks – an impractical gesture as he knew they wouldn’t stop, but a useful one as Leo would appreciate the heartfelt action.

“I know.”

No, you don’t, his mind argued, but his mouth was too tired and his head was too sore. Markus caught on.

“There is more to you than what you did in the past,” Markus reminded him, neglecting the use of who you were as he was well aware that Leo’s negative personality aspects were stirred up for good reason, but most of which was external from parental neglect and the incessant substance abuse.

“Remember that.”

Leo felt the lump in his throat again as he turned his head to glance at Markus, unable to put together an entire meaning to the words he said, but trying to register them nonetheless.

“Will it ever stop hurting? His death.” This time, Leo wiped at his own tears, too tired to acknowledge that it was a waste as his hands were wet from the water anyway.

“I want the caramel one.”

“Got it,” Markus responded to the request first, opening the cupboard under the sink to grab the requested bath soap, squeezing a generous amount into the pouring water before putting it away again.

“I can’t answer that for you, Leo.” Leo cringed from hearing his name, as if it had somehow hurt him.

“Tch, who named me that, anyway? I bet mom flipped over one of those stupid baby books and pointed with her eyes closed. Probably was drunk, too.” Bitterness dripped from his words, and Markus neglected them; responding to Leo in this state in any way, bad or good, would only encourage the negative thoughts and he’d quickly learned not to do so.

“Pillow?” Eyes now closed with the tears slowing, Leo nodded. Repeating the action as with the bubble bath, he retrieved the item from the closet, setting it against the porcelain rim and ensuring it was firmly set in place before he put an arm around Leo’s upper back, supporting him from behind the shoulders as he slowly leaned him back.

Leo had learned to appreciate the care, but it had taken him a long time, and for the most part, he didn’t accept it – the usual exception being nights like this, when he’d given up every last desire to fight. When he was too tired to remember being so vulnerable, when he’d let Markus touch and hold without his internal defiance telling him to refuse, to feel invaded like he’d been so many times before. When he’d needed so badly to be looked after and wanted so simply to be loved that the idea of a machine replicating such a thing was dissipated from his mind, and Markus was no longer cold metal and plastic; only warm hands and soft words.

“Did dad want to die?” Markus stiffened in place, frozen by the unexpected question.

“He loathed the probability of it, but he tried to live his life to the fullest, even if he didn’t feel like he was.” Was that too many words? Markus wasn’t sure, toying with the idea he might have been saying it just as much for himself.

“What do you mean?” It was too many words.

“Carl knew it was coming. I would not say he craved death, but over the time I spent with him, he focused on it more.” It was strange to Markus, the way Carl had spent his last days griping over the people around him, the artificial art industry, his own body’s faults and the fact his age was catching up to him. It made Markus feel no better, but it didn’t hit home so much until after it was much too late.

“Why are you asking?” It was dangerous territory, and generally Markus knew better than to ask, but the worry began to overcome his consideration for Leo’s personal boundaries.

Leo’s eyes opened and he turned his head to look at Markus, somehow looking even more exhausted than he was moments ago. Markus turned off the faucet, dipping a hand into the bath water to ensure its temperature was still ideal.

“I never thought I’d grow old. I still don’t think I will. But he had so much to live for.” Markus’ eyebrows lowered slightly as he didn’t fully understand the sentiment.

“You have plenty of years ahead of you. Whether you have anything to live for is a matter of opinion, and therefor up to you.” Pausing, Markus decided it was finally time to ask.

“What’s the matter?”

The tears came again and Leo closed his eyes, sighing.

“I don’t know.” Slightly stunned, Markus didn’t expect the answer, as Leo almost always had a reason to be upset, even if it seemed minor or nonsensical to anyone around him, sometimes even himself.

“I just… I don’t feel so good.” Markus tilted his head, feeling an urge to reach forward and pet his brother’s hair back in a show of consideration, but that was too close, he knew too well after months of experiencing and discovering Leo’s own personal space and when, where or why he wanted to be touched.

“Elaborate?” He paused, catching the fact he hadn’t watched his vocabulary.

“Explain, please.” Leo was too tired to snarl at his own stupidity, rolling onto his side to face Markus, though his eyes remained closed.

“I don’t feel well and I don’t know why. And it won’t stop.”

Then it clicked.

“If you would like, I can book you an appointment to see someone. I know you do not trust therapists, but there’s a walk-in clinic. You fill out some paperwork, tell them your problems and they suggest some medication.” Leo immediately furrowed his eyebrows at the idea of pills, scowling.

“I know you don’t like them,” Markus added wittingly.

“But they might help you feel better, even just a little.”

“Okay.” He didn’t feel like arguing. Markus was aware he’d likely forget his agreement tomorrow, but they could discuss that when the next day came.

“We should get you back to bed.” Leo didn’t say anything, reaching for the side of the tub as if to go and pull himself out. Markus couldn’t help but smile at his stubborn insistence for something like that, in a state like this, patting him on the hand in a faux mocking gesture that was playful in its motion. Leo opened his eyes with more alertness than he’d felt before he started crying in the first place – catching the smile, the restlessness in his mind settled again.

“I take that back. I should get you back to bed.” Looking lost, as if he didn’t remember how he got here, Leo’s eyes widened as he recoiled on himself, closing his legs and bringing them close to his body in a moment of recognized embarrassment.

“Oh, really? Now?” This time, Markus couldn’t help his own sarcasm, even if it was in jest.

“Come on, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” Markus’ extent of maturity was elusive to Leo, and it still showed every day as he didn’t understand, only felt his metaphysical boundaries being penetrated as he was aware of his aches, pains, scars and natural bodily anatomy all over again, cheeks reddening when he looked off to the side. Shifting to sit up, he lowered his legs and held up his arms as he’d done when he’d went to forego his shirt, cuing Markus to lift him up from underneath them just as he had done before.

“I don’t want to go to bed.” Realizing that wasn’t exactly what he meant, Leo reconsidered his thoughts.

“I don’t want to be in that bed.” With a moment of understanding, Markus repeated the actions he’d done when he picked Leo up from the doorway but with more ease as he was already sitting down in the tub, scooping his other arm up underneath the back of his legs to lift and carry him.

“I’ll take you to the guest room, then.”

Leo was asleep in his arms before he reached the door.

[oh-beyond]

Tinted Lips AU - Part 1

He thought he was done with humans. Last time he had direct contact with one was when he showed his parents what he had become five centuries ago. Ever since he’s became a blood sucker he promised to himself not to get close to any human.

Until you got injured in his territory, until his nostrils filled with your unusual scent… he had no other choice…

Vampire AU/Fluff/Smut 🔞

Warnings: mentions of blood and death. Visual violence.

Chen x  Reader (mentions of SHINee’s Key & Super Junior’s Donghae)

Thanks to @heebiejbies for this amazing edit of Chen’s Tinted Lips, wow. I love you for doing this for me!

Masterlist

Tinted Lips Masterpost

Part 2 >

1592 - Joseon Peninsula

Kim Jongdae, he was due to enlist in the army. His father was proud that his son will be defending his country against the Nippon invasion that hit the peninsula of Joseon. His mother however wasn’t that happy, especially as she had already lost Jongdae’s older brother in battle.

“So what? He died like a man!”

“He is all we have left, I don’t want to lose both my children”

“Shut up woman! What do you want people to say? That I raised a coward?” asked his father “and you!” he moved his head to address Jongdae “move your ass, we are late. Be thankful that I am taking you myself”

Jongdae fell on his knees and encircled his arms around his mother’s waist. He was trying not to cry but tears fell nevertheless. His mother stroke his hair gently running her fingers through it.

“I love you my little angel, you come back to me like the hero you are” she said pulling him up “I know you will. You hear me Dae-yah?” she added embracing him tightly.

And there he was sent almost in the front line, he was basically a human shield like the rest of hundreds of soldiers next to him. He knew he was going to die sooner rather than later. They were in a potential line of fire in an area likely to be attacked by the enemies coming from the north.

Just when he was thinking all this through the arrows started to fall down on them like hailstones, watching from under the metal shield his compatriots falling like insects. He ran, he escaped, and he was lucky that he only received 2 arrows in places that were not life threatening. One on his thigh and the other on his shoulder.

He leaned on a rock after running for hours, he ran and never looked back. He felt like filth leaving all the other men. Real men unlike him coward... But nothing mattered right now. Nothing because as he leaned his head to catch his breath he realised that he was bleeding and he will never even make it out of the woods alive. When the sun sets most probably the wolves will fest on him.

He cried. He tried pulling the arrow out of his leg in vain. It hurt too much and he was still that.

A coward.

He cried and cried, and cried some more until he heard some dried leaves being stepped on. The imminent was nearing, his fate of getting devoured as the sun was setting.

“Who’s there?”

The sound of the leaves stopping. He tried pulling himself up but his body was too weak. He questioned life choices,  wasn’t it better to die in battle instead of like this? Bringing dishonour to his family, dying slowly as wolves raven on his flesh.

He decided that moment to get his dagger and end this agony. He grew a spine and pointed the dagger at his throat, thinking how long and how painful will this be.

He cried again. He bit his lips and thought of what do, because he couldn’t even kill himself. He was afraid of pain.

“Good evening” 

Jongdae shot his eyes open at the unexpected calm voice. There was a dashing man standing right in front of him. His skin white like snow and his eyes menacing, nonetheless he was very good looking. He smiled at him before looking at the pool of blood under Jongdae.

“It’s not polite not to answer to greetings young man. Haven’t your parents taught you that?”

Jongdae couldn’t believe how calm the man was, and his sarcastic tone was uncalled for that moment.

“So you are a traitor and an unmannered little boy”

“I- I am sorry”

“I will forgive you just this time. I take it you are in a lot of pain, am I right?”

“Yes. I am, I can’t move and...” he pointed at his leg.

“I will take care of that, in fact no need to move. This might just hurt a little” the man coed before roughly pulling Jongdae from the scruff of his neck off the ground.

Jongdae screamed without even realising that his feet didn’t reach the floor, this man was incredibly strong.

“Put me down!” he cried “my leg! I can’t take the pain!”

“I will put you out of your misery” the man said positioning his mouth on the crock of Jongdae’s neck.

He didn’t understand what was happening other than a feeling of incredible pain. It hurt more than his leg and his shoulder. It felt as if his life was slowly slipping away from him. The pain suddenly was vanishing into a numbing feeling. Nothing hurt anymore. Nothing, but it was cold when he felt he collided back on the ground. It was cold and quiet and sorrowful.

His mother came to his mind. His older brother and how he used to carry him on his shoulders when they were young.

‘It’s alright Jongdae-yah, we will be together soon. Just close your eyes and relax’

His brother spoke to him, and he could of sworn he felt his caresses on his cheeks.

Death wasn’t that bad after all.

Death was all he wanted right now.

The image of his brother was fading slowly...

“Wait hyung! Hyung! Wait for me don’t go” he pleaded.

“Hyung? That was fast, I mean I don’t mind you calling me hyung. I am your hyung after all. Just for your information I am Key hyung”

Jongdae opened his eyes in panic. That wasn’t the voice he wanted to hear, that wasn’t his brother. That was the man that bit him in the woods.

He looked around and found himself on a big bed inside a room decorated to the highest standards, not matching the poverty the country was going through. The ceilings were high and it was dark and probably cold and humid, but Jongdae felt nothing, not even pain. His last memory was definitely a lot more painful than what he was feeling right now.

He looked around trying to find the man. He heard him but he wasn’t anywhere near, or at least that is what he thought.

“Where am I? What is this place? Am I in hell?”

“Hell?” scoffed Key “why hell and not heaven? I think you are smart and you know that we are damned from ever entering heaven? is that is pretty boy?”

“What? Show yourself!”

“Yes my dear” Key appeared in front of him and his speed caught Jongdae off guard “we will never see that place”

Jongdae got up from the bed running to the window opening the curtain, regretting his action when the sunlight made contact with his skin, it burned, it stung more that the arrows. He closed the curtain and turned to face this man that called himself Key.

“Who are you? What is this place? Where-” Jongdae touched his shoulder and his thigh feeling nothing of the pain he felt previously.

“You are welcome”

“What did you do to me? Why is the sun burning my skin?” 

The realisation was painful, he didn’t want to believe it.

“Be thankful I chose you. You will fit well. A coward and a traitor” Key smirked “almost as shameful as me when I was a human. It’s just perfect”

Jongdae punched his face and Key flew across the room landing over the wall creating a hole. Dust flying all over. Key laughing frantically.

It drove Jongdae insane.

He couldn’t handle it.

“I was this close to be with my brother. Why didn’t you let me die?”

“Oh honey but you are dead. But damned, and moving. Little differences” stated Key dusting himself “but in the end it’s all the same”

“Why?”

“Because you will come in handy. I need you”

Key left Jongdae to assimilate the cruelty of the new circumstances. He remembered when he was made and he understood. He gave him the day to let everything sink in. 

When the sun set Jongdae started to feel this itch all over his body. Thirst that was uncontrollable, his throat hurt. He pulled his hair out of desperation. He shouted and screamed muffing the sound with the pillow. But Key knew, he knew very well.

“What’s wrong little boy?” said Key as he opened the door to Jongdae’s new room.

“Kim Jongdae! That is my name”

“Cute, you want to keep that human name?”

“That will always be my name!”

“Let’s discuss names later, shall we pretty boy?”

“LEAVE ME ALONE! CAN’T YOU EVEN LEAVE ME ALONE!?”

“I think you are hungry. Listen I will do this for you today because you are new, I don’t like animal blood but I have no other choice sometimes” Key finally placed the big recipient he held on the desk adjacent to where Jongdae sat opening the lid.

And that is when Jongdae felt it for the first time. The desire for blood. His nostrils filled with the stench of the crimson liquid, it was disgusting but nothing more appealing right now. In a second he was holding the recipient to his mouth drinking frantically, soothing the itch. He felt alive and his body healed and strong.

“More! I want more!”

“That you will have to do it yourself, I hate going hunting and this is your duty from now on. Feed me and yourself. That is why you are here pretty boy”

Jongdae didn’t want this, he saw his hands full of blood and he felt like an animal. No even worst. He felt like a demon because he didn’t die with dignity. This was his punishment.

He pushed Key away and run out of the room trying to find the exit door.

“You don’t need to run, just jump out of any window, you are powerful now unlike humans. Go! I’m not stopping you. You will see for yourself that now I’m all you’ve got”

Jongdae found himself not wanting to use his supernatural powers, he wanted to be able to run at the same speed like he did before. He wanted to feel human.

He wanted to be Kim Jongdae. The one that promised his mother to come back from battle safely.

She was in her usual spot near the fire place.

“Eomeoni!”

She lifted her sorrowful gaze to meet her son’s new eyes. As soon as she was about to get up to embrace him she stopped.

His eyes were bright red, almost as bright as the fire next to her.

“Son?”

“It’s me!” 

He came closer but when he touched her she flinched at the cold sensation of his fingertips.

“Eomma!”

“Go! Go before your father comes”

“Why?”

“He will kill you”

“I missed you!”

“GO! I didn’t miss you. No! You are not Jongdae. You are one of the blood suckers”

“Eom-”

“Go or I will stab you myself”

Jongdae faced a kiss on her forehead and disappeared in the darkness of the night finding himself there again...

“You are back?” coed Key leaning on the door with a smirk “I told you”

“I hate you!”

“At least you get to see her. If you were not a vampire you wouldn’t be able to”

“Do I deserve this? Was I that bad in my life?”

“Don’t confuse. I wasn’t that bad. But I was chosen because I wasn’t that good”

“I want to die!”

“Come follow me. I will show you something”

Jongdae had no other choice but to follow him.

For now...

Key walked around the manor giving him access to all rooms except his. He took him to his library where real vampire history books were available, nothing like what humans told about them.

It was a lot worse.

When he was left alone Jongade wanted to cry, but tears didn’t come. Just like when he met his mother. However he learned that crying wasn’t something completely alien to vampires as he devoured the books.

Tears and other emotions came in certain circumstances.

He took a book and went to find Key who had clearly some company. It was a girl that he had gagged and tied and she was on her knees. Also she was mortified.

“What-”

“She’s... mmm my entertainment for the night” he smirked “and... my dinner. Sorry not for sharing little boy”

“I would ne-”

“Yes sure you would never. Listen I am kind of busy. There is the deer I caught for you in the kitchen, it’s hanged and I think by now all the blood drained. Enjoy and you are welcome. Now if you’ll excuse me” Key added closing the door.

Jongdae felt nauseated. Not that he really could but he wanted to believe that he wasn’t OK with what was happening...

...And the sounds and cries that followed. This girl wasn’t happy. Well of course she wasn’t. Who would ever willingly... with a vampire? But the book he held between his hands said otherwise. 

One particular being would be the one that can make a vampire cry, feel warm and even mortal...

“Noooo please don’t. I’ll do anything you want!” the girl cried “please!”

Silence...

Key killed her.

And Jongdae didn’t do anything about it.

He was just as bad.

He was just a blood sucker.

Days passed and Jongdae grew really disgusted. He never tried human blood until one day Key brought a couple. It was strange. Key disappeared with the man and Jongdae was left with this attractive woman alone.

“When are you going to suck me dry?” she asked. Her face showing no emotions.

“You know that you are here for this?”

“Yes”

“Aren’t you scared?”

“We are to be sacrificed. This was the deal the town had with your master”

“He isn’t my master... and what happens if...”

“He will kill us all”

“Who is the man that came with you?”

“That is my brother, and Key chose him. I guess if you aren’t going to feed on me, then he will when he’s done with him”

Jongdae couldn’t believe his ears. Key had mortified a whole city for his own pleasure and gluttony.

He thought of something and he wasn’t letting it pass...

****

2017 - Daegu

“I will get those pictures! Just try me... you have no clue how patient I can be”

“Yes ___, but it’s kind of dangerous. I mean all alone? There are snakes and even wolves there”

“Wow! Yes and white sharks swimming in the lake too” you said sarcastically “I just need a few pictures of the damn bird, we sell them to the magazine and done”

“The budget is not that great ___, you know the bosses don’t think it’s worth it”

“Don’t think it’s worth it? Or don’t think I can?”

“Whatever it is, that is no place for a young woman an-”

“Ah no no, we are not having this stupid conversation. Goodbye, I’m taking the train to Seoul tomorrow”

The problem was that a certain vampire had his nostrils filled with your scent...

_______________________

A/N: This was just a short intro to the actual story...I hope you show it love.

Thanks for reading ^_~ feed back always welcomed.

[stereksummerexchange]

Don't Have Sex, Because You Will Get Pregnant...And Die.

@kieren-fucking-walker - Hi, I’m sorry if this is too fluffy! BTW NO this is not mpreg/omega!verse! I just love mean girls!

by @jadorehale

Really, the best thing to ever happen to Beacon Hills High School was Stiles Stilinski. He was a star pupil. The very best in his class. Student of the Month year round. On the fast track to Harvard. And outshined all the other kids in his class with his pure awesomeness on a daily basis to the point where it was downright embarrassing. He didn’t want to jinx it but he was pretty much a shoo-in for valedictorian. Sorry, Lydia Martin! And he never caused any trouble at all. Not ever.

“DETENTION AGAIN, MR. STILINSKI!”

Did he mention he was every teacher’s darling?

Stiles stood at his locker after the last bell and frowned down at the all too familiar pink slip in his hand, questioning why the world was so unfair. Sure, most of these infractions were one-hundred percent his own doing, but in his defense, Harris had made two very implausible and inaccurate statements in the same class period, basically begging Stiles to make a mockery out of him in front of everyone. Stiles just hoped Harvard recognized what a scholarly and academically enriching extra-curricular activity detention could be.

“Seriously, another one?” A voice behind him said. A voice that Stiles had not been expecting seeing as he was the only one left in the hall. The voice also sounded highly amused when Stiles jumped and shrieked then whirled around in surprise.

“Jeez!” Stiles said, clutching his heart. “Can we make noises before we scare people to death? Heavy breathing! Tap dancing! Anything would be great!”

There wasn’t an ounce of guilt on Derek’s ridiculously handsome face and Stiles couldn’t even pretend to stay mad. He should be used to this by now. Derek liked to sneak up on him when he least expected it all the time. Which made sense seeing as he was Derek’s concubine. Sneaking around just happened to be a very essential part of their deep dark secret relationship.

The halls were empty but Stiles still checked to make sure they were safe. It was too risky if anyone saw them. Derek was the super popular basketball god and his social status would perish if he were to be associated with Stiles, the school’s biggest loser. Some would even liken it to the fall of Rome.

“Don’t you have practice?” Stiles asked, letting Derek press him up against the lockers anyway, his arms hanging loosely around Derek’s neck.

“I can skip it,” Derek murmured, nibbling on his ear.

“But it’s tryouts and you’re co-captain,” Stiles noted.

Derek lifted his head at that, pursing his lips. “You know, I’ve been meaning to quit basketball.”

Stiles leveled him a flat look. “You are not quitting basketball just so you can make out with me.”

“Why not?” Derek pouted, brushing the tips of their noses together. “I’ve decided that this is a much better use of my time.”

Stiles stopped arguing when Derek kissed him, easily persuaded by the softness on Derek’s mouth and the enticing feel of his rough stubble. It was startling how fast their kissing escalated these days. How they’d gone from modest and tame to something a lot more passionate and hungry. Stiles moaned when Derek deepened the kiss and slipped fingers under the hem of his shirt, his thumb rubbing circles into Stiles’ hipbone.

They weren’t supposed to still be doing this. When they hooked up at that party at the end of sophomore year, they’d agreed that it would only be for the summer and that they’d put an end to it once the school year started. But now, it was mid-November and they continued to be hot and heavy, which would only make things harder in the end when it was time to walk away.

“Hey! We talked about this!” Stiles squirmed when Derek started sucking on his neck. Something that would usually have Stiles rolling his eyes back into his head and melting into puddles on the floor. “No more hickeys. I can’t keep wearing scarves around my dad. He won’t stop laughing at me.”

Derek chuckled but captured his lips again, making Stiles forget about the scolding as he slipped closer and rolled his hips, wrenching a gasp from Stiles’ throat as they grinded against each other. A major situation was going down in Stiles’ pants and he needed to stop this before he made an absolute fool of himself.

“I’ve got detention,” Stiles said hoarsely and pulled away, shifting and adjusting himself to hide just how turned on he was. He spun back to his locker in a daze, grabbing his backpack and closed it as he ran his tongue over his swollen puffy lips.

When he was about to kiss Derek goodbye and leave, Derek stopped him and said, “Wait, I almost forgot why I came over here. What are you doing Friday night?”

“What I’m usually doing on Friday nights,” Stiles told him. “A whole lot of nothing.”

“Wanna come to my house and order pizza and watch Netflix or something?”

Stiles arched a brow. While they saw each other all the time, their version of hanging out usually meant making out in the back of Derek’s Camaro, or at the park, or behind the bleachers after a game, or in the boiler room after school. But going over to each other’s houses? Well…that was new.

“Er…um…” Stiles stumbled, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. “Okay, I guess. Yeah. Sounds cool.”

“Really?” Derek’s eyes lit up with excitement, which made Stiles feel so much more at ease. Gagging from Derek’s reaction, it sounded like Derek had really wanted him to say yes, so maybe it wouldn’t be that weird.

Stiles nodded, smirking. “Yeah. Now that I think about it, I haven’t gotten around to asking about your TV tastes yet. It’ll be nice to get a peek at your Recently Watched.”

Derek scrunched his nose. “That’s a terrible innuendo.”

“That’s because it wasn’t an innuendo, you perv!” Stiles punched him in the shoulder.

“We’ll probably have the house to ourselves,” Derek mentioned. “Talia has her usual Friday night séance, and Reuben’s shaman invited him over for song and dance. And my little sister, Cora, won’t be home either. She’s organizing a legalize marijuana protest with a few other kids.”

“Talia and Reuben?” Stiles squinted his eyes.

“Those are my parents. We call them by their first names,” Derek explained. “My family is um…very liberal.”

“Sounds cool,” Stiles said and hummed when Derek kissed him again. “Hey, I thought I told you to scram. Go to practice, dude!”

“I’m going! I’m going!” Derek raised both his hands in the air in surrender then leaned over and dropped a peck on Stiles’ cheek before taking off down the hall.

Stiles watched him go, laughing, then hastily wiped the smile off his face when he heard other stragglers entering the hall. He slung his heavy backpack over his shoulder and began the grueling trek to the detention room to see what misery awaited him inside. However, when he entered the room, he was relieved to see Scott’s smiling face amongst the sea of infidels.

“I see you and Derek are still going at it,” Scott said as Stiles made his way to the back row and flopped down next to him.

Stiles scoffed. “You didn’t even see anything.”

“Hickey.” Scott pointed to a spot on Stiles’ neck.

“Goddammit!” Stiles smacked a hand over it. Looks like he couldn’t yet retire the scarves.

“Hey, you doing anything Friday night?” Scott asked. “If my mom doesn’t totally ground me after detention today by doing the whole ‘No More Stiles’ thing, you should come over and we can watch Netflix and order pizza.”

“Sorry, dude, can’t.” Stiles was getting out his small detention feast, which comprised of a bag of Cheetos, a pack Twizzlers, and a Capri-Sun. Being a delinquent never tasted so good. “I’m doing that with Derek.”

“WHAT?!”

His gaze snapped over to Scott and he furrowed his brows. “Derek invited me over to his house on Friday.”

“To do what?!”

“Order pizza…” Stiles said slower this time so that Scott would get it and wouldn’t interrupt his meal to ask Stiles to repeat himself again. “…And watch Netflix.”

Scott gaped. “What the fuck, dude!”

“What?” Stiles huffed and picked up his bag of cheetos, ripping them open.He couldn’t wait anymore. He hadn’t eaten much at lunch since it was Baked Chicken Tuesday and school cafeteria chicken was the worst. His stomach was growling, his blood sugar was low, and he needed this cheesy goodness.

“I’m your best friend! Why wouldn’t you tell me that you’re planning on losing your virginity this Friday?”

Stiles choked. No he actually choked. A cheeto went down the wrong pipe, lodging itself in his throat, and he pounded on his chest, coughing and hacking to get it out. Because death by artificially powdered orange stick? No, sir. Not today.

“What the hell, Scott,” Stiles wheezed, inhaling and exhaling sharply. “Where in ‘watching Netflix and ordering pizza’ did you get that I’m losing my virginity?”

“How do you still not get Netflix and Chill?!” Scott slapped a palm over his face then thumped his head down onto the desk.

Stiles took a sip of his Capri-Sun, in dire need of a sip after his near-death experience. “Maybe I need a better dictionary, but didn’t you just ask me over for pizza and Netflix. Does that mean you want to have sex with me too?”

“We’re best friends so the rule doesn’t apply. But when I’m with Allison, we never pay attention to the TV. And Derek isn’t your friend. He’s your…”

“Lord Knows,” Stiles supplied helpfully.

“And you and your Lord Knows are going to be laid out horizontally on the couch doing the do on Friday. Congratulations, brother!”

Scott lifted a hand for a high-five but Stiles waved him off dismissively. “That’s so dumb. We’re not doing that.”

“Are you sure?” Scott questioned.

Okay, so maybe he’d been thinking about it a lot lately. And by it, he meant losing his virginity. To Derek. Last year he’d been in such a rush to get rid of it, feeling like he was lagging behind his other classmates, even Scott. But the thing about him and Derek was that he really didn’t know what they were. Making out and sneaking around was fun but Stiles was at a real risk of getting his heart broken here. He knew Derek had already had sex before, with Paige or Kate and whoever. He knew that it wouldn’t be as big of a deal for him as it was for Stiles. But then again, he also really liked Derek and wasn’t able to picture being that way with anyone but him.

“Just make sure you bring condoms.” Scott winked at him. “We wouldn’t want you getting pregnant, right?”

“Ha. Ha.” Stiles rolled his eyes, cursing whoever told Scott that he was even a little bit funny.

*

Stiles spent the rest of the day thinking about sex. Which was really unfortunate when it came time for dinner with his dad later that night. He was being uncharacteristically quiet which was always cause for concern in the Stilinski household. He hadn’t even tried to fight his dad when he ignored the healthy and nutritious Brussel sprouts Stiles had made for him. He knew he should probably start acting chatty before his dad started in on the interrogations and began asking all these deeply personal and probing questions. But there was just so much on his mind.

“You know we can turn the heat up if you’re really that cold,” the Sheriff commented, gesturing towards the Slytherin-themed scarf tightly wound around Stiles’ neck.

“I’m thinking about having sex,” Stiles blurted, cheeks turning red as he stared down at his dinner plate and refused to look up.

“Oh,” the Sheriff said smoothly. “Is that what the scarves are about?”

“I’ve been covering up hickeys.” Stiles chanced a peek at him and tugged off the scarf, exposing the faint bruises littering his neck.

His dad’s eyes widened, mouth falling open. “Who is this girl?”

“Guy.”

The Sheriff snorted disbelievingly at first, rejecting the idea. But when he saw Stiles blinking back at him with a dead serious expression, his face sobered instantly.

“Wait. Really?”

A simple nod from Stiles seemed to settle the issue. His dad sank back in his chair as he soaked that information in then picked up his fork and popped a Brussel sprout into his mouth, blanching. And just like that, the moment passed with no big deals made. Which was awesome. When people asked him later in life how he came out to his dad, it was nice that he had this experience to share.

“What’s his name?” the Sheriff probed.

“Not telling you. Ever,” Stiles replied.

“How long have you been seeing him?”

“Since the summer.”

“And you’re ready to…” The Sheriff did something with his hands that didn’t look too representative of sex but more like he was conducting traffic.

“Yeah. I am.”

A corner of the Sheriff’s mouth quirked. “Are you gonna wear the scarves?”

As if now was the time for awful dad jokes.

“Oh my god! Would you forget about the scarf and give me some real pieces of fatherly advice!”

“What do you want from me? The birds and the bees? Do you really want me to have the awkward safe sex talk with you? I know how you like to research things. You’ve probably got that covered”

“Oh. Trust me. I do,” Stiles assured.

“Then all I have to say is that this is one of those things that you won’t know about until you experience it. You know my first time was with your mother and we—”

“Oh no! I don’t think I’ve ever want to hear about this!” Stiles quickly covered his ears.

“Then the only thing I’ve got to say is just be yourself.”

“I could’ve gotten that off the back of a box of Frosted Flakes, Dad!”

“I’m serious. You can’t be passive in something like this. Make sure you and this kid know where you both stand in your relationship and try not to step over each other’s boundaries.”

It was exactly the kind of advice that Stiles had been wanting to hear. Because he didn’t know where his and Derek’s relationship stood or if there was even a relationship between them to begin with. That was something he was going to have to be brave enough to find out. But Stiles was so ready for this. He was sure of that. Like his dad said, he just needed to be himself.

“Can you give me a heads up before it happens?” the Sheriff asked.

Stiles chewed on his bottom lip. “It’s happening this Friday.”

Inhaling deeply, The Sheriff took out his wallet from his pants pocket and pulled out a couple of bills, handing them over to Stiles. “Here,” he said. “To get the stuff on that list you’ve probably already made.”

“It’s not that long of a list,” Stiles told him, counting the bills and finding it to be way too much.

His dad shook his head. “Keep it anyway.”

Stiles smiled and reached out, squeezing his hand, happy that he’d come to his dad for this and that he hadn’t been disappointed. He knew most parents wouldn’t as cool about it but it was nice that his dad respected his choice and trusted Stiles to be safe.

“Well, now I feel so damn old,” the Sheriff whined, picking out the rest of his Brussel sprouts from his plate and pushing them to the side like a toddler. Stiles would indulge him just this once, but tomorrow there would be kale to pay for this. “You’re growing up too fast for me! Stop it!”

Stiles stood and walked around to give the old geezer a tight comforting hug. “Thanks dad. You’re the best.”

*

The week was flying by much faster than Stiles would’ve liked and with Friday quickly approaching, Stiles still had lots to do to prepare. Like, for instance, learning how to properly use a condom. Luckily for him, Coach Finstock would be teaching them how to roll one onto a banana in Health today. But what if Derek’s dick wasn’t banana shaped? Should he try practicing on other household fruits and vegetables just in case?

Being so preoccupied, Stiles had barely even gotten a chance to see a lot of Derek. He’d caught a few glimpses of him in the halls here and there, but they couldn’t acknowledge each other when there were too many people around. Stiles couldn’t lie; he was starting to miss him. Maybe he’d try tracking Derek down after Health. That is if he ever made it to Health because, like always, he was running super late to class.

Stiles sprinted down the empty halls, perilously close to tripping over his loose shoelaces, and veered around a corner with Coach Finstock’s room very much in sight. He paused to catch his breath, taking deep puffs of air in and out of his lungs, but before he could start jogging again, he was suddenly accosted.

“Holy shit!” Stiles squawked as Derek yanked him into an empty classroom. “What the fuck, dude! I thought I was being kidnapped!”

“You are.” Derek’s lips crashed down onto his and he crowded Stiles back against the door. “Wanna skip this period?”

“C—Can’t,” Stiles panted, shuddering as Derek’s teeth ran along his collarbone. “I’m late to Health and I don’t want to fall behind.”

“Coach won’t fail you,” Derek said and dropped a kiss on Stiles’ lips again before pulling away with a smirk. “And neither will I. Have a seat, Mr. Stilinski. Let’s go over today’s lesson.”

Snickering, Stiles walked over to a desk and sat, folding his hands in his lap and watching Derek attentively like the perfect student that he was.

Derek stood in front of the board and pulled down the world map. Picking up a wooden pointer, he cleared his throat and began indicating at random countries as he recited, “Sons of Scottland! I am William Wallace! He kills men by the hundreds. And if he were here, he’d consume the English with fireballs from his eyes and bolts of lightning from his arse!”

“Oh my god.” Stiles pressed a hand over his eyes, marveling at Derek’s perfect rendition of Coach Finstock. He was rather curious as to how Derek had managed to memorize all the lines from Braveheart.

“I see a whole army of my countrymen, here in defiance of tyranny! You’ve come to fight as free men and free men you are! What will you do with that freedom? Will you fight?”

“Please stop,” Stiles begged, unable to withstand such a high quantity of dorkiness. He smiled fondly as Derek rolled the map back up and picked up a piece of chalk to write on the board. “You know, you should never become a teacher. You’re so hot, everyone would be too distracted to pay attention.”

“Good thing I’m going to be an architect,” Derek told him as he drew a heart with their initials.

“What are you doing? You can’t draw that!”

“Why not?” Derek paused, looking over at him with a deep frown.

“Because!” Stiles huffed.

He stood and walked over, hastily grabbing an eraser and thoroughly buffing out any evidence of them ever being there. Derek should know better than to be so reckless. This was not the time to be risking exposure.

“Um…” Stiles chewed on his bottom lip as Derek peered closely at him. “I’ve really got to get to class and hit the books. I’ve got this project thing that’s worth most of my final grade.”

“Okay,” Derek said, although his face was marked with displeasure. “I’ll see you after school, then.”

“No, I don’t have detention today.”

“But you always have detention.”

“I’ve been on my best behavior lately.”

Derek snorted. “Even your best behavior isn’t good behavior.”

“Yeah, well, my thing,” Stiles said looking up at the clock. If he didn’t hustle, he was going to miss his only chance to wrestle a latex condom around a botanical fruit in the name of Beacon Hills High School’s stellar sexual education curriculum.

“Right, the thing…” Derek murmured.

“Yeah…” Stiles fidgeted, waiting on Derek to say something so that they weren’t just standing there looking at each other awkwardly. But Derek wouldn’t throw him a bone.

“Err…Okay…” Stiles waved and tripped backwards towards the door in a hurry. “Gotta go now. Bye!”

*

It was weird, but after that uncomfortable situation in the classroom, Stiles didn’t really hear much from Derek over the next couple of days. Which was definitely worrying. Derek said he was fine over text but Stiles could tell something was off. In fact, Stiles had been pretty pessimistic about the whole thing, positive Derek would cancel on him until he got a text from Derek on Friday after school with an address.

Rolling up to Derek’s place later that night in his jeep, Stiles was surprised to discover that Derek lived out in the middle of the woods. The area was isolated but it was quiet and peaceful and one could really connect with nature out there. But for Stiles who basically hated nature and its bugs the short walk from his car to the porch had him on high alert and scared for his life.

Nervously, Stiles rang Derek’s doorbell, eyes swinging around his surroundings in case an animal hopped out to attack him. He rang the bell again and shot Derek a text when a while had passed with no sign of anyone coming to answer the door. His hopes started getting crushed as more time passed with him standing out there alone in the dark. Maybe Derek just wasn’t home yet, or maybe he’d forgotten, or decided to ditch their plans last minute.

Regardless, Stiles wasn’t about to stand on Derek’s door step looking pathetic all night. With a dejected sigh, he turned to start down the stairs but froze when he heard odd rustling coming from a bush. This was the perfect place for a murder. It was so deserted out there that no one would hear his screams. But that didn’t stop Stiles from shrieking his fucking head off when something roared and sprang out from the bushes.

“Jesus Christ, Derek! What the fuck is the matter with you!!”

“Fuck yes!!!” Derek cackled and pumped a fist in the air victoriously. “I’ve been hiding in there for half an hour waiting to do that!”

“Why can’t you just say hello like a civilized being?” Stiles scowled.

Derek smirked, tugging Stiles towards him and planting a kiss on his mouth. “Hello, and welcome to my humble abode. By the way, there’s a giant spider on your shoulder.”

And for the second time that night, Stiles was shrieking at the top of his lungs. Derek, the asshole, didn’t even try to help him. He just disappeared through the front door, leaving Stiles to flail around in panic by himself. Stiles bravely flicked the spider off and followed Derek into the house quickly before he was subjected to another wilderness attacks.

Once safely inside, Stiles toed off his shoes and handed Derek his jacket, hesitantly looking around. Derek’s home was certainly not the traditional kind that Stiles had been expecting. A few words to describe the decor was trippy, psychedelic, and 1960’s bohemian. There were tons of vibrant colors, eclectic art, and beautiful tapestries.

Derek took his hand, lacing their fingers together, and led them into the living room. He had a mischievous smile on his face that instantly made Stiles suspicious. But all Stiles needed to do was walk into the room to understand why, and he immediately busted out laughing.

“Dude! You built a fort?!” Stiles’ jaw actually dropped.

“I told you! I want to be an architect!”

“Well, it’s very well made.” Stiles grinned, admiring the structure of the epic blanket fort Derek had built and decorated with lots of pillows and pretty string lights.

“Want a tour of the rest of the house?” Derek asked him.

“Sure!”

Stiles was curious if Derek had ever invited other people from school to his house and shown them all the hippie stuff his family was into. Not that Derek should be embarrassed of his family. Like at all. They raised chickens and grew their own organic vegetables, pushed to legalize marijuana and had no qualms about nudity. They also had an impressive compost pile and were clearly determined to save the planet. It sounded like an awesome way to grow up, and more importantly, Stiles was glad that Derek was sharing and that he was getting to see this other side of him.

“And this is my stash,” Derek said as they settled again under the fort in the living room. He shoved a large duffle bag that had the Beacon Hills High logo on it towards Stiles. “Talia has us on a strict raw food diet since before I can even remember. No processed foods allowed in the house ever. I can eat whatever I want outside but I’m still a vegetarian. I just have a rotten sweet tooth which means I have to sneak snacks into this hell hole. Now, I don’t share this with just anyone, so know that means you’re special.”

His entire face flushed in slight embarrassment. Honestly, he didn’t need buttering up. He was an easy lay and would put out without the sweet talk. Gripping a fistful of Derek’s sweatshirt, Stiles practically hauled him in, clambering into his lap and straddling his hips. He gave a rather instigating kiss, not wanting to beat around the bush about what they were there for.

Derek seemed super into it at first, returning Stiles’ kiss with fervor, trailing his hands along Stiles’ side, and releasing deep rumbles from his chest. But then he pulled away and plopped Stiles off to the side which was the total opposite of what Stiles wanted. This was definitely throwing a wrench in his plans.

“So, what do you want to watch?” Derek asked, glancing at Stiles expectantly as he grabbed his laptop and logged into Netflix.

Seemed like Derek was playing hard to get. Either that or he was purposely being obtuse. They ended up watching the pilot of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Derek had never seen it before and Stiles loved introducing people to his favorite shows, living vicariously through them upon their first viewing. He’d definitely consider it a kink and was having way too much fun observing Derek’s reactions.

Once they were finished with that, Stiles went through some other shows Derek typically watched. It was mainly procedural dramas; boring stuff like CSI, Law & Order, and House. Stiles ribbed Derek about his ‘guilty pleasure’ of watching Crazy Ex-Girlfriends for ten whole minutes but after being forced to watch the first episode, Stiles was instantly hooked himself.

However, when Derek decided to let the second episode play, Stiles had to admit he was a little confused.

While it was fun just lying there munching on Derek’s super-secret snacks and introducing each other to new TV shows, he couldn’t help but wonder when they were finally going to ditch the clothes and fast-forward to the naked sexy times. Fed up with waiting, he scooted closer to Derek, awkwardly placing a hand on his knee hoping that Derek, the only one with experience in this department here, would get the hint and pioneer this ship. Oh captain, my captain!

Not surprisingly, the good old, trusty hand-on-the-thigh-trick worked. Derek paused the show and leaned in, placing the lightest of kisses onto Stiles’ lips with a bright smile. Then he turned his attention back to the computer, paying Stiles’ horniness no mind and doing nothing else.

Stiles wiped his sweaty palms against the legs of his jeans. He wasn’t sure what to do now. In all his detailed preparations, he never consulted a how-to guide on ways to subtly signal that you were totally down for sex. He knew Derek wasn’t asexual; they’d talked about it once. Maybe he just didn’t find Stiles hot. Which was a bummer because Stiles was insanely attracted to him.

“What’s wrong?”

Stiles snapped his eyes up from where he’d been fiddling his fingers in his lap. He pasted on a chipper smile and rapidly said, “Nothing.”

The lines on Derek’s forehead creased and he paused the show again, readjusting himself to get a better look at Stiles straightforward. “You mean, you’ve been acting weird all week because of nothing?”

“No.” Stiles stammered, unsure of what to say. “Yes?”

Derek’s face darkened and Stiles felt his heart skip a beat in his chest. God, this was all his fault. Why was he so damn awkward!

“C’mon. Let’s watch something else,” he tried and reached for the computer, but before he could, Derek was snapping it shut.

Stiles cringed internally as tensions mounted in the room. He couldn’t believe how badly he was messing this up. Did he really need to spill his dumb feelings all over the place and ruin everything? He had no idea what to say to fix this. How to make things go back to normal. All he could do now was prepare himself for whatever came next.

“You know…” Derek started with an unhappy sigh. “You can tell me if you don’t want to keep doing this. If you’re not that into me anymore or if it’s gotten too boring. I can take it.”

“W—What do you mean?” Stiles struggled to find his voice. “I— I don’t— Why would you think—I…I—”

“Well, you’re obviously embarrassed of me,” Derek stated. “I get it. I’m a dumb jock and you don’t want to be seen around me because of all your smart friend. It’s why we have to do all this sneaking around and why you never want anyone to see us at school. But Stiles, I can’t help that I’m popular and captain of the basketball team.”

“Woah, wait a minute…” Stiles stood up, clenching his jaw. “I’m the one that never wants us to be seen? I’m the one that’s too embarrassed to introduce you to my friends? Oh, that’s fucking rich! Because I’m always pulling you into empty classrooms and walking right past you in halls! And I’m definitely the one that invited you over here to ‘hang out and watch Netflix’ when I actually meant sex!”

How dare Derek try to make it seem like this was what Stiles wanted. “You know what, I’m so out of here! I really thought I wanted my first time to be with you, but clearly, we’re not on the same page. So let me spell it out for you. I want a relationship thing, not a fuck buddies thing! I’m sorry but I can’t be your dirty little secret anymore!”

Without looking back, Stiles stormed off towards the front door and hastily collected his things. He searched all his pockets for his car keys and jammed his feet into his shoes. He was determined not to get emotional in front of Derek. He wanted to go out like a badass.

Stiles twisted the knob to the front door and opened it, but before he could leave, Derek skidded into the foyer, his socks slippery against the hardwood floor, and slammed it closed.

The bastard grinned as he tried to pulled Stiles against him, wrapping an arm around Stiles’ waist and holding him tightly. “Hey, Stiles,” he chuckled. “Did we just have our first fight?”

“Let go of me, asswipe!” Stiles cried, shoving him off. He didn’t want Derek’s and his douchiness touching him right now. “You’re a fuckboy.”

“If you say so.” Derek shrugged and peered at Stiles inquisitively. “Where’d you get the idea that I only invited you over here tonight to have sex with you?”

Stiles dropped his gaze down to his shoes and he mumbled, “Scott said—”

Derek scoffed. “You still listen to Scott?”

“Yes he’s my best friend,” Stiles defended.

“He’s also a moron!” Derek heaved. “You’ve should’ve just come and talked to me first because Scott doesn’t know anything. We’re already in a ‘relationship thing’, Stiles. Or at least, I thought so…”

Stiles peeked up at Derek then, chewing on his bottom lip. Right away, Derek took that as a good sign and stepped closer, taking advantage of the small window, and pressing a kiss to Stiles’ forehead.

“I wouldn’t have invited you over if you weren’t important to me. I never invite anyone over because my parents are deranged, but I wanted to spend time with my boyfriend. I like spending time with him even though he talks too much for it to be normal and we should definitely get his head checked.”

Derek tapped his temple and laughed when Stiles swatted his hand away. His emotions had betrayed him and he felt his anger thawing, now being replaced by silly butterflies in his stomach at the mention of the word boyfriend. Giving up the act, he buried his face into Derek’s neck and clung to him now that all was forgiven.

Derek cleared his throat, murmuring into Stiles’ ear, “I’d be lying if I said sex hasn’t crossed my mind…You’re kind of gorgeous. But it’s not the most important thing right now and only when you’re ready.”

Stiles shuffled even closer and nuzzling deeper into Derek’s neck, immensely pleased when Derek’s arms locked around him. Not a lot of people got to say they had first boyfriends like Derek. Sweet, cuddly, pretty boys that built cute forts and watched romantic musical comedy dramas and were completely oblivious to blatant signs of wanting to initiate sex. But Stiles would never take this for granted.

“I wouldn’t play with your feelings or send you coded messages. So when I invite you over to watch Netflix, it’s because I really just want to watch Netflix with you. So…say something.”

Stiles lifted his head and stared into Derek’s breathtaking rainbow eyes. Inhaling deeply, he confessed, “All I’ve been thinking about this week is your dick.”

Derek fought a smirk. “Oh?

“And doing things to you that would probably get me arrested.”

“I won’t call the sheriff if you won’t.” Derek winked.

Stiles snickered, fluttering his lashes coyly. “How long do we have until your parents get back?”

“Séances can be lengthy,” Derek quipped. “Spirits are hard to get a hold of.”

“Good.” Stiles grinned and leaned in, humming happily when he pressed his lips to Derek’s once more. “That gives us plenty of time.”

When people asked him later in life how he’d lost his virginity, it was nice that he could say, “Under a blanket fort in Derek Hale’s living room while his parents were out. He’d tell them that it wasn’t weird or awkward at all. That Derek had shown him exactly what to do and had made him feel really good. That he knew he was loved. Special. And most importantly, that he’d followed his dad’s advice and hadn’t been passive in this. He knew where they booth stood and knew they had a promising future together.

“Oh my god! I did it! I finally did it! I cannot believe this! Dude, I just had sex!!”

“Yes, Stiles, I’m aware,” Derek said dryly as he balled Stiles’ shirt up and tossed it over to him, whacking him in the face. “I was there, remember? You didn’t do this alone.”

“Shh!” Stiles chided as he finished buttoning his pants, pulling the shirt over his head. “This is about me right now. Don’t ruin this for me!”

“Oh, Derek, honey suckle,” A sweet feminine voice called out. It was a lovely voice, so homely and nurturing and, motherly…and shit that must mean Derek’s parents were back.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This was in no way the circumstance that Stiles had wished to meet his very first boyfriend’s parents in. Especially not after they’d…Fuck! Stiles scrambled back into the fort, frantically checking that he’d dressed himself okay and that nothing was on backwards or unzipped. He was pretty sure that most parents had x-ray vision. At least his dad did which was why Stiles could never get away with anything. What if Derek’s parents saw the sex on him or something and it ruined his chances forever to make a good first impression.

Stiles didn’t take a single breath the entire time they heard the footsteps approaching the entrance of the fort. Then he realized foolishly that while he was dressed perfectly fine, Derek had yet to put a shirt on. He was just about to say something to Derek, groping around for where Derek’s shirt could be when Derek just rolled out from under the fort and stood up to greet his parents half-fucking-naked.

It wouldn’t take much for Derek’s parents to put two-and-two together if Stiles got out of the fort now so he resigned himself to living there in hiding forever. Fucking Derek. Why did he have to be so brazen.

“Talia,” he heard Derek greeting his mother which, yeah, was a little weird. Stiles knew he could never his dad onboard with the whole calling your parents by their first names thing.

“What’s this, Derek?” Talia asked, her voice so whimsical and airy. “How lovely! I see you’ve been letting out your inner creative!”

He heard Derek snort before asking, “How was the séance?”

“Marvelous. Grandma Leanabel says hello,” Talia told him. “She wants us to bring you next time to talk about your love life. She said there’s a person you’ve been seeing in secret. Is that true?”

Of course, Stiles could not contain his gasp upon hearing that Derek’s maternal grandmother knew about their secret relationship. That was some really freaky paranormal shit and one could not blame him for being unable to hide his shock in the face of it. Unfortunately, that tiny, quiet, not at all dramatic gasp seemed to have given away Stiles’ exact location. Abort, Abort, Abort.

“Do you have someone here?” He heard another voice say, one that was much deeper than Derek’s, so he assumed was Derek’s father.

“No, Reuben” Derek said, barely putting any effort into the lie so of course his parents became skeptical.

“Who are you hiding in your little teepee, Derek?” Talia asked. When Derek didn’t respond, she demanded, “Get them out right now.”

Derek huffed, crouching down to the entrance of the fort to give Stiles a reassuring smile, coaxing him out of hiding like he was a scared animal. “It’s okay. They don’t care about anything normal parents should care about.”

Stiles took a deep breath in then exhaled, rolling out from under the fort and getting up on wobbly knees. He held his hand out blindly for a handshake, face burning as he stared down at the floor trying his best to mind his manners even though he honestly didn’t have any. “Uh hi… Mrs. Hale…Mr. Hale.”

Even though Derek had expressed to him multiple times that his parents were real-life hippies, Stiles hadn’t quite believed him up until this point. And now that he was seeing it for himself, he understood that there had been no exaggeration on Derek’s part. That his parents were most definitely eccentric.

One thing that came as a shock was just how much Derek looked like his mother, possessing her beautiful hazel eyes and gypsy-like features. Truthfully, she didn’t even look like she could be a mom, so youthful in her appearance. Derek’s father must be a very handsome man to have landed such a gorgeous wife. Although, Stiles wasn’t 100% sure of that because he couldn’t actually see much of Reuben Hale’s face. His long, shaggy light-brown hair and bushy beard covered everything and he looked like a giant hairball with super white teeth. Maybe Talia had fallen in love with his snappy fashion sense because he was definitely rocking those floral bellbottoms.

“No need to be so formal here, love,” Talia said, stepping forward and taking Stiles’ hand between her own. “It’s just Talia and Reuben. And you are?”

“Stiles,” he offered nervously, prepared to give his usual speech for the meaning behind his bizarre nickname.

Talia gasped, her eyes lighting up. “Oh, my, what a wonderfully original and creative name!!”

“Indeed!” Reuben chimed in, stroking his overgrown beard.

All in all, Derek’s parents were ridiculously nice people. Too nice even for the situation at hand. Stiles was just so relieved that Derek’s parents didn’t automatically hate him that he started rambling as they made small talk. Unlike most of the people who’ve ever had to endure Stiles’ ramblings, Talia and Reuben didn’t seem to mind, giving no signs that they were annoyed or wanting him to shut up and showing a real interest in Stiles and inquiring to know more about him.

They did as much small-talking as they could do before they reached the giant elephant in the room. Talia and Reuben wanted to know more about him and Derek. How they met. When they first knew they liked each other. Etc. etc.

A mortified blush crept up Stiles’ neck the more they asked and Talia grasped Stiles’ hand, saying, “Don’t be embarrassed, moon child. Making love is a natural and beautiful act that has only been derided by society and its ridiculous archaic definitions of the term ‘immorality.’ Not only does the word ‘virginity’ commodify individuals and deems them as damaged goods, but it also perpetuates a heteronormative myth that a penis must enter a vagina, which completely erases the experiences of queer and trans folk. I had hoped that there’d be more progressive teachings on this subject in schools but apparently not.”

She let go of Stiles’ hand with a gentle squeeze, flashing a receptive smile. “Basically, what I’m trying to say dear, is that it’s a load of bullshit. So, stop thinking about it so much.”

“Oh…um…cool,” Stiles spluttered, looking over at Derek just in time to catch him laughing at Stiles’ stunned response. Stiles couldn’t help it. The world would be a much better place if Talia Hale was president and all followed her wisdom.

Reuben asked, “So, did the two of you use protection? We wouldn’t want Stiles here getting pregnant, now would we?”

“Ha Ha. You’re so funny, Reuben,” Derek intoned dryly, rolling his eyes as Reuben laughed boisterously. It seemed hippie dads weren’t immune to awful dad jokes either. “Anyway, Stiles is going home now.”

“What! Why?” Talia frowned.

“Because I’m embarrassed of you guys and I don’t want you scarring him away,” Derek told them as he swiftly ushered Stiles towards the exit who stumbled ungracefully over his own feet.

“Oh, that again!” Talia scoffed. “Really, dear, when will you get over this. At least let me give him one of my handmade dreamcatchers! Wait right there!”

Derek dropped his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. Stiles had to smile a little at how easily frustrated Derek got with his way laid back and chill parents. He was feeling very honored that Derek had given him the chance to meet them and would definitely be getting Talia to show him all of Derek’s embarrassing baby pictures the next time he was over.

“Derek Andrew Hale!!” Talia called sharply from the other room.

Andrew. Derek’s middle name was Andrew. That was so cute! Derek didn’t seem to find it very cute though because as soon as he heard it, he immediately paled.

Talia came marching into the room again with the dreamcatcher and something else in her hand. She held it up to Derek, revealing his Beacon Hills duffle bag, and shouted, “What is all this, Derek! Have you been eating these poisonous treats? Candy?! Chips?! Have you not read of all the harmful artificial preservatives you are ingesting into your young sprouting body?!”

“Ugh, Talia!” Derek groaned, reaching for the duffle bag and scowling when she kept it away.

Talia looked over her shoulder and asked, “Reuben, what is it that those parents do in the movies where they lock their kids in their room for two weeks?”

“I’m not quite sure, dear,” Reuben said, tugging at his beard in thought. “I believe it’s called being grounded.”

“Yes, that!” Talia swung back to Derek, poking him in the chest with a stern finger. “That’s what you are, young man! Grounded! I’ll be discarding all of these!”

Turning to Stiles, Talia’s face melted into a bright and pleasant smile as she handed him his dreamcatcher and wrapped him up in a big hug. “So lovely meeting you, Stiles. Come back anytime you’d like.”

“Don’t worry, son,” Reuben whispered as Talia marched back out the room, giving Derek a comforting pat on the shoulder before following after his wife. “I’ll sneak them away when she’s not looking. I’ve just been dying for a Reese’s Pieces!!”

Once his parents were gone, Derek immediately took Stiles’ hand and physically dragged him out the house, likely with the purpose of keeping Stiles far, far away from his crazy hippie family. The front door swung shut hastily behind them and they both paused for a moment on the porch to take a deep breath and look up at the sky.

It’d been quite the eventful evening. One Stiles was sure to remember. And amidst all the nerves, confusion, and craziness, Stiles was pretty happy with how it turned out, wondering if Derek thought the same. He slipped closer to Derek who was glaring up at the sky, an agitated line formed between his brows, and decided to kiss that frown right off his face. Derek made no protests to this method and just pulled Stiles even closer, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“I’m sorry I got you in trouble,” Stiles murmured, fidgeting with his dreamcatcher as he leaned his forehead against Derek’s.

“It’s fine. She’ll probably forget what being grounded means again anyways so it’s not really affecting me.” Derek huffed. “I’ve just never seen her that mad.”

Stiles threw back his head and laughed loudly, gazing at Derek incredulously. “That was her mad? My Dad is ten times worse!” Stiles reneged, “Not that you’ll meet him. Ever.”

“No fair. You meet my insane parents. I get to meet your dad.”

“Fine,” Stiles sighed, not at all looking forward to it and, if Derek knew any better, he wouldn’t be looking forward to it either. “But be prepared for a tough interrogation and a light frisking.”

Derek smiled widely, leaning in for another kiss even though he knew Stiles needed to be getting into his car and racing back home to make curfew. He groaned, letting himself get lost in it for a bit before pulling away to be the responsible one. Derek followed him down the steps to the Jeep to say goodbye and when Stiles got in and started the car, Derek tapped on the window, indicating for Stiles to roll it down.

“Hey, on Monday, if I see you in the hallway and kiss you hello, is that okay?” Derek asked over the loud engine, leaning in through the window.

Stiles rolled his eyes as he clicked his seatbelt in. “Yes. That’s totally fine.”

“You won’t be embarrassed to be seen with a dumb jock?” Derek raised a brow.

“Maybe a little bit. This could seriously ruin my reputation, you know,” Stiles teased. “What about you? You embarrassed to be seen with a huge dork?”

“Nope. Never.” Derek said then cleared his throat to project his stern teacher voice. “I’ll see you Monday, Mr. Stilinski. And don’t be late, or detention for at least a year.”

*

Monday morning at school wasn’t different from any other Monday morning at school, only now their big secret was out. Stiles couldn’t even begin to explain how unbelievably good it felt to finally be able to make out with Derek in the halls without having to worry about who was around to see them. Sneaking around had been fun for a while but Stiles was more than ready to have them out in the open.

It was all so foreign at first. When Derek had tried to kiss Stiles hello in front of his friends, Stiles had almost punched him away out of old habit. But by mid-afternoon, they’d gotten the hang of it, at least enough to pressed up against Derek’s locker making out in a crowded hallway with their minds completely blank. They were able to take their time, move slow and unhurried instead of the anxious frenzied stolen kisses that they’d had before. It was bliss.

There was one downside to this new way of living, however. How the hell were they supposed to stop? Before, any random stranger walking by was an alarm to separate and scattering away from each other like headless chickens. But they no longer had to pay any mind to those concerns, so who’s to say that they couldn’t just lean up against Derek’s locker and make out all the livelong day? No one, that’s who.

“Stilinski! Hale! Break it up you two!” Coach Finstock hollered down the hall into a megaphone, causing them both to startle badly and jump apart.

Ah, so Coach Finstock had some usefulness after all.

“Too much of that can be a bad thing, you know!” Finstock shouted again into the megaphone as they gathered their things and headed off to class holding hands. “I’m just saying use proper precautions! We wouldn’t want Stilinski getting pregnant now, would we?!”

Nope, definitely.  Wouldn’t want that.

[catkingdomfrozenparadise]

The life of a house cat had been the only life Levi had ever known. He had been taken from his mother, whom he assumed had been the woman who named him Levi, and taken on a very long trip. From the moment he had opened his eyes the only place he had ever known had been the frozen tundra of Alaska. His family lived near one of the towns but they were still pretty remote and far from others except for the family next door. Most cats aged quickly but Levi had been different, not only that his family pampered and spoiled him until he had become quite robust.

Now when Levi was about four or five he found out he could take on a human form, though he had ears and a tail. Somehow he knew he shouldn’t show it to humans so he never did. Levi, whom his humans called Shadow, traveled with them to different towns all over Alaska where he got to meet cats of all different kinds. Most were normal cats but then some were like him who could take a human form as well. Cautious by nature he rarely socialized with others though he had made a couple of friends in other towns he was most at home, at home.

While his humans slept he would clean the house from top to bottom and make it sparkle. Sometimes they would notice and think the other had cleaned the house. He was also the protector of the house and had even chased off vandals more than once. He might be fat but his claws were sharp as knives. Food was growing short and his human’s money was growing shorter. They had to cut back on all of their food. Even the neighbors were going through the same troubles.

The neighbors had a cat named Chloe. She was also fat like he was and they had her for about four years now. They would hang out and talk about their owners and their habits every now and then but Levi hadn’t seen her in a few days. Then he heard his owners whispering about what their neighbors had done and had suggested they do. Eat their cat. Levi was appalled by what he heard.

Chloe had given the Innoc’s all of her love and affection, and those animals just EAT her?! Levi was outraged. Though he tempered his anger to listen to his humans talk more. He was quite relieved when they were just as appalled by what they did as he was. A few more days passed after that and the Innoc’s had been sniffing around their house so Levi stayed hidden unless his owners were around.

After Edgar found them sneaking around he packed up Levi and Tanya heading into town.

“The shelter’s too full they said we can only bring him there if we want him euthanized. What are we going to do?” Tanya asked Edgar in a hushed tone as Levi dozed on her lap. He had no problem going for car rides. In fact he quite enjoyed it.

“Then we’ll just have to leave him somewhere where a lot of people go. He’s sweet someone’s bound to take him home. He’s too fat. We can’t afford to feed him any more and cutting his food off entirely would just be cruel. We’d starve him to death. Now with Ted and his family sniffing around and trying to do him in like.... You know.... Come on you know we can’t go on like this....” Edgar said in the same soft tone.

Levi heard their words but was too sleepy to process what they were talking about. A few hours later they were finally in town driving around. It was a fairly sunny day so it wasn’t as cold as it normally was. Tanya had wrapped him in one of Edgar’s old t-shirts and had him cocooned in a large red plaid flannel blanket inside a box. He fell asleep there afterwards he barely stirred when he was moved from the car and set down somewhere. Several more hours passed before he peeked his head out of the box to see where he was and where his humans were.

There was no one in sight and it was growing dark. His box was sitting in front of some store and he had a small empty bowl in his box which smelled like kibble. That meant someone had stolen his food. Wrapped in shirt and blanket Levi sat there waiting. Several hours later and the shop keep came out of the store after cleaning up to dump the trash and saw him there.

Levi was never rude to a stranger unless they were rude to him first but the man was nice. He bent down and scratched and petted him asking him where his owners are. It was a question he too would like to know. Edgar and Tanya’s conversation played through his head, was he the one they had been talking about? They had to get rid of him? At least they weren’t going to eat him or let the neighbors eat him either.

The shop owner was so nice that he brought out two cans of wet cat food and gave them both to him. He purred gratefully as he ate them quickly. He was super hungry and hadn’t eaten all day. After throwing the cans away the shop owner closed up, said his good-byes and left. Levi still waited but he changed forms and put on Edgar’s shirt to cover him. He had to tie up the sleeves so that it wouldn’t fall off.

Seventeen days passed since Levi had been left there. The only food he got was from the shop owner because he was not a thief and every day and night was a battle. Cats all around the area came to pick fights with him and try to run him off. Some old man had taken his blanket while he was going to the bathroom. A bear tried breaking into the nice man’s shop so Levi chased it off. The cats had been easy to deal with but the Bear had actually been able to give him a few injuries back.

Now, after chasing off that stupid bear, some jerk stealing his blanket, and punk ass cats trying to run him off, the sky decided he hadn’t had enough punishment and opened up on him. All he could do was stand there in the dark in his tattered t-shirt in the rain getting pelted with hail. It was all too much for him. The only life he had known for the past eighteen years had been taken away from him. He had been abandoned and left here, apparently his owners thought someone was going to be nice enough to take him home.

He had gone numb. Not from the cold but to all of it. He just stood there with tears of frustration pouring down his face masked by the rain. Until finally when the feeling of being pelted by the elements let up and some human, at least he thought so at first, yelled at him. The size he was right now was about the size of a human child and the male in the yellow raincoat was obviously an adult. He’s already been seen like this so it wasn’t as if he could just shift back and pretend he didn’t see him.

Levi was about to make a run for it when the male suddenly started talking about coming home with him. But it was too late as the umbrella was thrust into his hands and he was scooped up off of his feet. The male was quite strong as he manhandled Levi into his vehicle. He didn’t say a word and just sat there with the wet umbrella tucked between his legs. He didn’t understand what was going on at all.

He was quite wary of the man next to him and he was quite surprised when the male swept the hood off of his head. He had ears just like him. The tears had dried up and for some reason the man, Eren as he called himself, kept holding his hand. He talked and talked telling Levi a lot of things about what he does and about the place where Levi had been left. He doubted Edgar and Tanya had the low down on the cat gangs to even worry about leaving him there. The cats had been the least of his problems there.

Even though Eren brought the box he had been sleeping in the only thing that had been left to him had been his food dish. That and the t-shirt he was wearing. When they got to wherever they were going Eren made a call to someone named Jean, who he said was his brother. Although Eren said nice things about himself he couldn’t help the doubts and worries of getting eaten. He didn’t want to go out like Chloe. Poor girl.

Soon enough he was picked up again and even though he resisted Eren still managed to get him out of the car. Inside he set him down on the living room floor and started piling blankets up before tossing Levi into those said blankets in front of a roaring fire. Sandwiched there the cold that had soaked into his body slowly started being chased away. His teeth started chattering and he laid there in slight misery. It reminded him of the only home he had ever known.

However, when Eren put a large tray of food in front of him it also reminded him of the reason he was abandoned in the first place. He was fat. Fat tears welled up and spilled over as Eren encouraged him to eat putting the food to his mouth. Levi ate while Eren lay next to him under the blankets. This wasn’t his home though. He couldn’t stay here.

“Th-Thank….Thank y-you for the f-food….” He said through chattering teeth. Eren had shrunk down to his size and was sharing his warmth.

“I-I…. Will l-leave when the r-rain stops…” He added on because he didn’t want to burden someone else like he had his own family.

To say he was startled when Eren glomped on to him and yelled at him was an understatement. Usually Levi would have no problem fending off another cat but Eren seemed to be different. Instead of wanting to dig his claws in and refuse like he did most of the time, he nodded his head and said okay. What the hell was he thinking? He shouldn’t be going home with a stranger like this. Though he couldn’t help but wonder, since Eren could become bigger than this size did that mean he could as well? He didn’t know nor had he ever tried.

He, of course, wouldn’t try right now but he was definitely going to try later. He found he enjoyed Eren’s strange affection and slowly began rubbing his face back unconsciously. In silence he finished the food and they laid there for a while longer soaking up the warmth, though Levi was soaking up Eren’s warmth more than the fires since his body had returned to normal temperatures about halfway through the food. He always ran colder than other cats. He never knew why either.

Contentedly he laid there drifting somewhere between awake and asleep even when Eren supersized himself again and scooped him up into his arms once more. Levi only stirred again when the sound of running water reached his ears so he peeked his head over Eren’s arm to see what he was doing. He was running the bath, so Levi wriggled to get down.

“I can do it. I can take a bath.” He wasn’t ready to show someone his fat rolls yet. It was bad enough when he was a cat.

Unfortunately Eren wasn’t having any of that and wrestled him out of his tattered shirt. What was more surprising was that Eren got undressed too before scooping him up again and getting in the tub. Levi’s tail curled around his side hiding what it could but he was fat and his tail was skinny so it didn’t do a very good job hiding anything. Eren on the other hand was perfectly fine as if the two of them did this all the time.

In the water Levi had curled himself up into a ball as Eren started washing him, his back and his hair since that was all Levi was giving up right then. Eren’s fingers were like magic though, stroking him in all the right places, scratching him just right, soon Levi melted under Eren’s touch and let him do as he pleased until the bath was over.

Eren helped him dry off much to his complaint that he could do it himself then he wrapped him in a big fluffy towel and looked over his cuts. If Eren asked about them he’d tell him, it wasn’t like it was a secret. That bear was one tough son-of-a-bitch and had almost been too much for Levi. He had to fight it as a cat since the store has surveillance cameras facing that door. He had to get good at avoiding cameras when Edgar installed them in the house. He even figured out how to loop the feed at home so that he could clean without being found out.

After Eren had tended his cuts he bandaged him up, he told him it wasn’t necessary but he did it anyways. They would be closed up by the morning anyways. They always were. Once Eren was satisfied he put a large white button down shirt on him. It was freaking huge. He had known Eren was bigger than Edgar but he didn’t think he was that much bigger. Eren had to roll up the sleeves a lot so that Levi could even use his hands.

Once Levi was all fixed up Eren scooped him up once more, he must really like carrying him around or something. It wasn’t like his legs were broken or something. He remembered the one time his leg had been broken, he could barely do anything for weeks because he had to stay a cat for the cast and for the bone to heal completely. Though his leg was healed a week before the cast actually came off.

Eren took the two of them to what Levi assumed was Eren’s room because he climbed into bed with him and curled up around him. Levi settled in and let him resting his head on Eren’s chest as he stroked his head. Levi was wide awake however, he always had trouble sleeping at night no matter how comfortable he got. So a few hours after Eren fell asleep himself he slipped out of his arms and the bed to go explore his new surroundings.

There wasn’t much he was good at but he could at least clean and cook some easy stuff like breakfast foods. If there was pancake mix he knew how to mix the batter and cook the pancakes, he could make both fried and scrambled eggs, and he could cook both bacon and sausage. Before that though since it was hours until morning he wanted to clean the whole house so he set about finding the cleaning supplies.

By four in the morning the entire building that he could access was sparkling in it’s cleanliness. Then Levi set about making breakfast for Eren since he wanted to do something to thank him for bringing him here, and for keeping him even though he’s fat and would probably be a burden on him. He supposed it was also for not eating him but mostly for being an Angel. His Angel. He blushed at the thought and buried his face in his hands before smacking his cheeks and getting back to making breakfast.

He found the pancake mix and mixed up some batter, just enough to make a big stack of pancakes. He wasn’t sure how much Eren eats so he made a lot ‘cause he’s so big so he must need a lot of food to stay energized. He made him both sausage and bacon, he even found a waffle iron and followed the instructions on the all-purpose baking mix to make those too for him. Finding a half full jar of salsa in the fridge and some cheese he mixed those into the scrambled eggs making them gooey and yummy.

Once everything was cooked up and piled on plates Levi searched around for something to put it on. He found a big wooden serving tray and placed everything on it. He had even made a pot of coffee and put that on there too as well as a pitcher of orange juice from the fridge with a cup and a mug. During his cleaning he had found some scrap papers of different colors and since it wasn’t the season for flowers yet he folded him some out of the papers and placed them on the tray.

Over the years Levi had taught himself how to read and write, though his writing still wasn’t very good since he didn’t really have a use for it before. So on a folded piece of paper he wrote as neatly as he could the words “Thank you” it still looked like a kindergartner wrote it though. Once it was all on the tray Levi got down off of the step ladder he had been using for all of this because the hour and a half that he had spent trying to become Eren’s size had resulted in failure but that didn’t mean he was giving up.

Anyways after everything was cleaned and put away properly Levi hoisted the tray of food over his head. Despite his fat he was super strong so lifting the tray wasn’t the problem. Maneuvering was. Some how though he managed to get all the way upstairs again and put the tray on the nightstand on the side that Eren was on before climbing into bed. In fact it was about at that moment when a loud bang came from downstairs. The front door had slammed shut and he could hear a muffled voice calling to Eren.

Quickly he shifted back partially out of habit but mostly because the only person he was comfortable being around was Eren. Once he was back in his cat form he jumped back up on the bed and buried himself in the covers and pillows piled there. His face was right next to Eren’s that he would see him when he opened his eyes but the loud one banging through the house looking for him wouldn’t see him right away.

[jaroslavprachar]

There’s No Expiration Date … But Here are Some Warning Signs That a Dog Is Dying

If you’re reading this article, you’re probably worried that you’re missing the warning signs of your dog dying. You may even have literally searched for “warning signs dog dying.” As editor of The Dog Cancer Survival Guide, I wanted to write this, just for you. Here’s what I need you to know, right up front, right now:

There is no expiration date for your dog. There is no such thing as a crystal ball we can consult to know “today’s the day.” No one, not your veterinarian, not your spouse, and not you, can predict with 100% accuracy “when” your dog is going to pass from this earth.

There are some warning signs that you can use to see the end as it nears.

There are some wonderful, simple things you can do for your dog RIGHT NOW that will help, no matter when the end comes.

This is a very, very hard time for you, and you should be very gentle and kind to yourself.

Before we launch in, let me tell you this: I am not a veterinarian. I am a writer, and the editor of the best-selling book on dog cancer, The Dog Cancer Survival Guide, but I have no medical credentials of my own. What I am including in this article is what I know from Dr. Demian Dressler and his co-author, oncologist Dr. Susan Ettinger … but mostly from my own experience as a dog lover, just like you, who has gone through the dark nights of agony at the end of a beloved dog’s life.

With that disclaimer, let’s move on.

There’s No Expiration Date

Readers of the book often join our private Facebook support group, where they can network and get support from other readers who understand what it’s like to have a dog with cancer. Far too often, a reader posts a photo of their gorgeous dog and asks “how do I know when it’s time to let go?”

And the advice from fellow guardians (what we call dog lovers facing canine cancer) is almost always summed up this way:

“You can’t know ahead of time … but when it is finally time, you will absolutely know. Your dog will tell you.”

This idea that our dogs will “tell” us may sound a little obvious (or mystical, depending upon how seriously you take interspecies communication studies). But it’s not.

We often have to be reminded that our dogs actually have opinions, thoughts, feelings, and preferences. They are not human, but they are, in a very important sense, people. I’m not making this up! This is a relatively new way of thinking about animals, but it’s becoming clearer with every passing year: this planet is populated by over 7 billion human individuals, and thousands of billions more of individual animals.

Dogs are not just members of a species called Canis lupus familiaris… in fact, they are individuals who happen to be part of that species. Just like all of us humans are individuals who happen to be part of our species, Homo sapiens.

Dogs have a sense of themselves as individuals. They don’t look at another dog and think “hey, we’re interchangeable!”

But because dogs don’t speak “English” (although they understand a lot of it), and because we don’t speak “Canine,” we often forget that our dog IS a person. He has his own unique view on his world. She has her own set of experiences — experiences that you will never actually know about. Because you haven’t been her, and you haven’t lived his life!

My point is, it’s easy to forget in our distraction and panic over our dog’s warning signs that they are feeling ill, or maybe even dying, that they are actually having their own experience — that is separate from ours.

And when we forget that about other people (whether human or dog) … we forget that we need to LISTEN. Just as we would to someone in our life who does speak our language. If your grandfather told you “I think I’m near the end,” you would understand what he meant. Well, dogs might be able to “tell” us something like that, too.

So, when we offer each other those frustrating words of advice “your dog will tell you,” another way to say it is “ask your dog.”

Look, there just isn’t any way to know the exact timing of anyone’s death, human or canine. But there is great value in listening to someone, closely observing them, and providing comfort, whether they are near death, or not.

And our dogs certainly deserve that close, loving attention, at all times in their lives. Goodness knows, I wish I were even a fraction as good as my dogs. I would be a saint.

So, bottom line is this: set aside your need to “know” if now is the time for your dog. It’s just not possible to know for sure — until you do.

When it’s time, you will know, because your dog will somehow, someway, get through to you to tell you. In the meantime, the best thing you can do for yourself AND your dog is to listen, observe, and offer comfort and help as needed. How much time you have left is less important than how much closeness and love you give each other in whatever time you have left.

(I speak from hard, hard experience.)

Warning Signs: Dog Dying

OK, here are some things that you can look for to see if your dog is nearing the end of life. Keep in mind that none of these are definitive, and if your dog is only going through one or two of them, it may not mean she’s near the end. I have heard from too many readers over the years about turnarounds to think that any one of the following signs definitely means your dog is going for sure.

But if you see several of the following warning signs, all at the same time? Breathe deeply. We’ll cover some more things for you to do in the next section.

Lethargy That Just Won’t Quit

In general, dogs like to move, walk, play, bounce, cuddle, fetch, eat, drink, and relieve themselves. Any time your dog is listless or lethargic … not “acting like himself” you can be sure he’s not feeling well for some reason.

In particular, lying in one spot for long periods of time, especially one that is kind of quiet and isolated, or not a normal napping spot, is a sign that your pup is feeling like life is not something he wants to participate in wholeheartedly. Those of us who live in rural areas, where our dogs have lots of outside spaces to roam, are familiar with how, given a chance, some dogs prefer to isolate themselves, far from their families, when they sense their time is up. I had a friend whose elderly dog seemed fine right up until the night she didn’t come in when called after they let her out after dinner. They found her curled up under a bush in an area she almost never napped in — as if she didn’t want to ruin their happy memories of other trees, paths, and walks.

If you live in a city or suburb, and your dog doesn’t have an outside option, you might find he chooses a weird spot you’ve never seen him use for a nap. Another friend’s dog curled up in their laundry room for his last days. It only made sense when she realized how it was out of the way, out of traffic, and afforded him maximum privacy from his beloved small human family members in their busy house.

If a dog is near the end, they may not want to get up from their spot, even for their most favoritest, favoritest things, like toys, treats, and offers to go for a walk. They might not even seem happy to see family members. If your dog has been sort of puddling up in a pile of lethargic, disinterested misery, and it’s been more than a day, that can be an early warning sign that she is getting ready to leave this life.

Lack of Interest in Food and/or Water

It’s the rare dog that doesn’t want to eat. Sometimes, nausea from cancer treatments (or cancer itself) can be the culprit. Other health conditions, medications, and even foods can certainly cause temporary nausea, too. Here’s one of my favorite articles about how to help your dog to eat when she won’t.

But if you’ve gone through all of that, and even started offering other tidbits that might be no-no’s on a typical cancer diet, and he still won’t eat? Or if he does, but then vomits? That’s a warning sign.

If your dog stops drinking water, that’s another sign that she is possibly nearing the end. At the end of life, our organs start shutting down, and as a result, the brain just stops sending us hunger and thirst signals. There’s no point in taking in food and water that can’t be digested and then used by the body.

So, if you’ve tried and failed to get your dog to take an interest in food and water, and it’s been over a day or two, it might be because he’s near the end.

Movement Problems

Dogs that are near the end of their life often become very disoriented, so if your dog does get up and move around, she may stumble, wobble, or collapse. You may find him shaking, or even having what looks like a seizure, as his muscles tremble and discharge energy.

Losing Control of Bowels and/or Incontinence

A dog who is dying often loses control of their muscles (as above), including all the sphincter muscles that hold waste in the intestines, or urine in the bladder. Combine that loss of control with the inability to move with confidence and general lethargy, and you see incontinence. Often, you’ll find your dog has soiled himself without even attempting to get up — urinating and/or defecating right where he’s lying. You might also see sores from the waste irritating the skin.

Labored Breathing

At the very end of life, breathing often becomes ragged. Instead of a nice, even in-and-out, you might hear great breaths in, and then a long pause, and a little sigh out. There might be panting, or great pauses, or almost a rattling sound as your pup struggles to keep going.

Super Snuggliness

I have a theory that most dogs absolutely know that they are dying, and they want to make the most of their last moments. Before you point out that I just told you about dogs isolating themselves to die, let me tell you this: both of those dogs actually spent the hours BEFORE they isolated themselves to pass asking for kisses and pets and snuggles from their human family members.

As far as I can tell, dogs love unconditionally, even those of us humans who maybe don’t deserve it. And so it makes 100% sense to me, as a dog lover, that my dogs all got really snuggly at some point near the very end of their lives. They want to make absolutely sure that you know that you are loved before they are forced to leave you.

If your dog is spending lots of time gazing at you with adoration, snuggling into your lap, or doing his best to request a belly rub given his limited movements, you might see that as a warning sign.

What You Can Do for Your Dog If You Think She’s Dying

First, make sure that’s what is going on. Calling your veterinarian and telling him or her all about everything you’ve observed is your first priority. You will want to know if a recent change in medication or technique could have caused these symptoms — and if so, there might be something they can do for her to get her through this period so she can recover.

Before you call in, make a list of everything you’ve seen and heard, and your general impressions of your dog, so you don’t forget anything. The nurse or tech who answers the phone will be able to help you, or have the veterinarian call you back and discuss.

Getting medical advice at this stage is really important. If there is something that can be done, they’ll advise you about what it is, and what the chances of it helping are. And if not, they might still be helpful — sometimes an overnight stay at the hospital can help both with pain management and “hospice” care, if that’s necessary.

But then, there are definitely things you can do at home to help your dog. These all can help to alleviate pain and really up the quality of life he’s feeling right now. For more detail on each of these, please see the chapter of “End of Life Choices and Care” in The Dog Cancer Survival Guide.

Hydration

For dehydration, aim to get about one ounce of water per pound of body weight into your dog over a 24-hour period. For example, if your dog is 10 pounds, you want to give about 10 ounces of water.

If he won’t drink out of a bowl, you can try squirting a turkey baster filled with water into his mouth. You can also use other fluids, like low-sodium chicken or beef broth, soup, or even tea. But if he refuses to drink, or hates the baster method, there’s not a lot you can do to force the issue.

In this case, ask your veterinarian for “subcutaneous fluids” to give at home, along with detailed instructions about how to inject them under the skin.

Appetite

If your pup hasn’t eaten in over a day, and you’ve done everything you can think of in Susan’s article, throw out all the rules you’ve learned about what to feed a dog with cancer.

High-carb? Fine! Hot dog packed with nitrates and nitrites? Terrific! If your dog hasn’t eaten in a few days, ANYTHING she eats is lovely.

Offer anything that isn’t toxic (no onions, grapes, raisins, chocolate). Anything that tempts her to take a bite is PERFECT, and an important life quality “treatment.” Our dog Maui, when she was dying, loved angel food cake. (And we loved feeding it to her.)

Safety

If your dog is really wobbly, try to keep him in a quiet, comfortable place that is safe. Remove any furniture or objects that he might knock over, and pad hard surfaces anyway you can.

Cleanliness

Cleanliness is really important to your dog, as it is to us humans. So if she’s soiling herself, give her a gentle sponge bath with lukewarm (not cold, not really warm, certainly not hot) water as soon as you can. Keeping her clean and dry will help her to feel comfortable and keep her from developing bed sores.

Bed Sores

Lying in one spot can cause bed sores, little ulcers where skin is rubbed raw from the pressure of the body. This is particularly important for large breeds.

Keeping your pup on a thickly padded surface and rotating him gently from side to side is a good idea. While you do this, gently look for sores that are developing so you can care for them right away if you see them.

Also, keep in mind that you don’t want to “twist” your dog as you move him. If he hasn’t turned himself over in a six-hour period, gently gather all four of his paws to his belly, roll him to his front, and then on to his other side. (Don’t roll him onto his back — it’s dangerous, especially to large breed dogs, who are prone to get a “twisted stomach” this way.)

Pain Management

Pain management might be in order, particularly if you notice panting, a possible sign of pain. There are many pain meds your veterinarian might want to prescribe, based on your dog’s specific case, so don’t be afraid to ask.

This is also a time when something like CBD oil might be warranted, for comfort at the end of life. Discuss this with your veterinarian, if you’re interested, because laws vary by state, and not every veterinarian is comfortable prescribing or using something that is still illegal at the federal level. (And I refuse to get on my soapbox about this, but let’s just say I wish scientists had the opportunity to study this.)

Life Quality!

Focus on total, 100%, super-awesome life quality tailored to YOUR dog.

You know your dog best — what does she like? Is there a favorite toy you can get for her to snuggle with or gnaw on? Is there a special treat? Does she adore fresh air?

When our dog Maui was in her last days, I bought a pack ‘n play for her, filled it with her favorite dog bed, toys, and snugglies, and put it outside in a shady spot. We also carried her in our arms and gently walked up and down her favorite beach. I can’t prove it, but I know it’s true: being outside and feeling the sunshine and fresh air, and smelling her favorite beachy smells, made her happier.

So did getting groomed. The day before Maui died, our mobile groomer appeared at the door. It was an appointment we’d made a month earlier, and forgotten to cancel as we took care of Maui in her last days. We assumed Maui wouldn’t want to make the effort to get up and get groomed, but when she heard Allyson’s voice, her tail thumped and she raised her head, and she even walked to the top of the steps to greet her. When we listened carefully, and observed her obvious positive response to Allyson, we “knew” she wanted to get groomed. Allyson’s tender care for her in her last hours was a miracle. Maui always loved being groomed, and it truly ended up being one of the “life quality treatments” we applied at the end of her life.

Manage Your Grief

OK, this one is hard, but it’s really important. While you care for your dog at this last stage of his life, try hard not to break down in front of him. Dogs pick up on our emotions, and whatever you are feeling he is likely feeling, too. So try to stay in a warm, loving, attentive, close, intimate frame of mind. Leave the harsh, ugly crying for later, or go somewhere else to do it.

It’s a terrible burden, to watch a loved one die. It can be really hard, and for some, it’s totally devastating. But if you can keep breathing, and keep your heart open to how much love there is between you and your dog, you’ll be doing a deep and great service to your pup.

And somehow, I know he’ll be grateful to you.

Which brings me to the last thing I wanted to tell you.

Be Gentle, and Loving, with Yourself, Too.

Good grief, it’s hard to lose a dog. And maybe even harder is knowing you’re about to lose your dog — that it’s going to happen soon, but who knows when. That limbo feeling can complicate our decision making and terrorize our minds. We might not feel right about eating ourselves, or sleeping, or going to work, or even taking a shower.

So acknowledge to yourself that you’re going through a really tough time, and that YOU need care, too. One thing I’ve learned over the years is that no amount of money, time, or energy can insulate us from heartbreak. Whether you are in a situation where you can’t afford pain meds, or need to euthanize, or can’t afford to miss work to be with your dogs — or whether you have all the time and money you need — you’re going through a devastating loss.

So do what you need to do to care for yourself, too. Get support. Talk to friends and family members, or a pastor or counselor. I personally advise NOT talking to people who aren’t dog lovers — some folks simply do not understand the bond that can form between us and our dogs. The last thing you need to hear right now is “it’s just a dog.”

If you’re a reader of The Dog Cancer Survival Guide, I highly recommend the Facebook support group. (Email us using the contact us page to get details on how to join that private group.) Having fellow travelers take a moment or two to post messages of love and support can be very healing.  They can also be really helpful at “trouble-shooting” your end of life care for your dog.

In addition to reaching out for emotional support, I also recommend a few time-tested comfort measures. The following came highly recommended by my grandmothers and grandfathers, and my great-grandmothers and great-grandfathers (I am so lucky to have known so many!):

Get as much sleep as possible. Now is not the time to pull all-nighters if you don’t have to. Go to bed when you are tired, and if you can nap, do it.

Make sure YOU are eating and drinking. Your dog does not benefit from you being weak and hangry.

Take a shower. Everything seems more manageable when you are fresh and clean.

Take care with your dress and grooming. My grammy used to say “I wear lipstick because I feel better.” You don’t have to wear lipstick, but sometimes feeling “dressed” — whatever that means to you — helps you to face the world.

Breathe deeply. Constantly. When stressed, we often hold our breath, which just keeps our brains from working well. Better to add breath to any stressful situation than take it away.

Have tea. Any kind is comforting, but herbal teas in particular can be very therapeutic.

If you have a diffuser, diffusing essential oils can be really helpful to both you and your dog. Amber Drake really likes lavender oil, and so do I.

Eat soups. They are warm and comforting, and broth can be very nutritious, and quickly absorbed, so you get “instant” food.

Cry when you need to. Give yourself breaks to let out your grief, at least a little. It helps to rid the body of stress hormones.

Dark chocolate is a great way to reduce stress hormones and “treat” yourself. (My grandmothers all thought so — now science backs them up!)

I’m going to give the last word to one of the wise readers who contributed a “true tail” to The Dog Cancer Survival Guide. Here are some words of wisdom from someone who’s been where you are:

Let Outcomes Unfold

“Deal with it one day/ step at a time, and don’t jump ahead. Let outcomes unfold, rather than focusing on the worst case scenario. Don’t beat up on yourself.You did not cause your dog’s cancer. Don’t try to be brave. If you need to cry or do hours of research or watch action movies to feel better, go for it. If not, just love your dog. Don’t waste any energy on things you can’t do anything about. Use your energy to help your dog. Have courage when making the decisions you will have to for your dog’s well-being. Some will be hard, but if you keep the focus on giving your dog the best quality of life possible, they will be easier.”

– Susan McKay,Winnipeg, Manitoba

I don’t know you, but I feel your pain if you are reading this. I wish you the very best, and thank you, personally, for loving your dog so much that you ended up here, reading this article.

If you have anything to add, please share your story in a comment. Believe me, future readers want to hear from all of us who love and lost our dogs.

Many blessings,

Molly Jacobson

Editor, The Dog Cancer Survival Guide

Also Read:

Hospice for Dogs

Was There Anything Else I Could Have Done?

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