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mistydeyes · 1 year

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141 and what their patient file looks like

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summary: This is what I imagine everyone's favorite pharmacist as well as medics see when they look at 141's medical file.

Based on this pharmacist and 141 interactions

pairing: Task Force 141 x pharmacist!Reader

warnings: medical/pharmacy terminology, medical inaccuracies, swearing, depiction of wounds, mention of substance use disorder and abuse

Terms

PMH - Past medical history - the total sum of a patient's health status prior to the presenting problem

FH - Family history - contributing family history, generally parents and siblings

SH - Social history - contributing social behavior and routine

a/n: not canon at all! this is just a reference for me

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Price

PMH

Height: 1.88 m (6' 2'')

Weight: 93 kg (205 lbs)

Blood type: O+

Extensive physical injuries

21+ stab wounds - 2 required antibiotics for recurrent infection

9x bullet wound - 5x in the extremities, 4x in the chest (no perforation of vital organs), healed without complication

5x abrasion collar - 1 near right eyebrow became infected following medical eval and stitches

3x diagnosed concussion

Aspirin-sensitivity

Previously evaluated for tinnitus and hearing loss

Father - deceased at 76 from liver disease - 50 pack years, mycardial infarction (x2)

Mother - deceased at 84 due to chronic heart failure (CHF) -Glaucoma, asthma, CHF

Sister - Sports induced asthma, hypothyroidism

Negative family history of diabetes, hypertension, and cancer

Smokes - 30 pack years

Drinks regularly - 4-5 hard liquor each weekend; 1 glass of whiskey occasionally

Physically active - Enjoys recreational activities such as hiking, swimming, and biking

Has 1 dog, currently under the care of pt's younger sister

History of monogynous long term relationships, currently single

Medication list + indications

Amoxicillin/Clavulanic acid 625mg - Infection

Morphine 15mg + Ketamine 3mg - IV - Pain

Paracetamol 750mg - Pain

Buproprion SR 150mg - Smoking cessation - not-taking est 2004

Allergies

Aspirin allergy - Reaction: hives and asthma - ONLY PRESCRIBE PARACETAMOL

No environmental, food, or animal allergies

Notes

Patient has denied smoking cessation options

Soap

PMH

Height: 1.88 m (6' 2'')

Weight: 91 kg (200 lbs)

Blood type: O+

7x stab wound - 6 required antibiotics for recurrent infection, 2 MRSA resistant

2x bullet wound - 2x in lower extremities, healed with no complication

6x abrasion collar

2x broken collar bone - healed, with no complication

Lactose sensitivity - Recurrent IBS if ingested

Chipped first left molar following opening a beer with teeth

Father deceased at 68 due to heart failure - Type 2 Diabetes Mellitus, high cholesterol

Mother - Stage I HTN (hypertension)

Sister #1 - Postpartum depression, generalized anxiety disorder

Sister #2 - Elevated cholesterol/triglycerides

Brother - No known chronic health issues

Positive family history of diabetes and hypertension, but no cancer

Drinks regularly and heavily - 8-12 beers and 2-3 glasses of hard liquor each weekend; 1 glass of scotch occasionally

Smokes socially - 5 pack years

Physically active

Close relationship with family, has 4 dogs at home under the care of pt's mothers

Avid fan of The Glasgow Football Club

Medication list + indications

Clindamycin 300mg with ciprofloxacin 400mg - Infection

Amoxicillin/Clauvanic acid 625mg - Infection

Vancomycin 18mg/kg - MRSA resistant infection

Paracetamol 500mg - Pain

Morphine 15mg IV - Pain

Doxycycline 100mg - Acne discontinued in 2004

Allergies

Insect stings - Observed anaphylaxis to childhood bee sting

Notes

Patient demonstrates medication non-adherence, counsel ESPECIALLY with antibiotics

Scored 6 on Alcohol use disorders identification test for consumption (AUDIT C)

Gaz

PMH

Height: 1.86 m (6' 1'')

Weight: 93 kg (205 lbs)

Blood type: B-

3x stab wound - healed, no complications

1x broken collar bone

2x broken femur

Diagnosed concussion - evaluated in Oct. '19

Father - Type 1 Diabetes, high cholesterol

Mother - Vitiligo, Stage 3 breast cancer

Positive family history of maternal cancer and diabetes, but no hypertension

Social drinker - 3-4 beers each weekend

Does not smoke

Physically active - Enjoys morning and evening runs

Enjoys spicy food and tries to introduce into diet

When on leave, enjoys attending concerts and music festivals

Medication list + indications

Piriteze 10mg - Allergic rhinitis

Fluticasone Propionate - 93 mcg/actuation - Allergic rhinitis

Paracetamol 500mg - Pain

Allergies

Seasonal - Pollen and pet dander

β-Lactam allergy - Reaction: anaphylaxis evaluated in '19

Notes

Organ donor

Ghost

PMH

Height: Weight: 1.93 m (6' 4'')

WeighT: 100 kg (220 lbs)

Blood type: AB-

Extensive cuts and scarring to entire body

4+ stab wounds - healed, no complications

Gun shot to lower abdomen - healed, no complications, evaluated in Nov. '22

13+ collar abrasion

2x broken nose

Childhood injury of broken tibia and large toe

Psych eval - History of depression and post traumatic stress disorder, childhood history indicates emotional and physical abuse

Father - status unknown Diagnosed alcohol use disorder

Brother - deceased, cause of death non-contributory - Substance use disorder

Mother - deceased, cause of death non-contributory - Hypertension, thrombophilia (blood clotting disorder)

Positive family history of hypertension, but no diabetes or cancer

Social drinker - 3-4 glasses of hard liquor each weekend

Smokes socially - 10 pack years

Physically active - Enjoys nightly walks

Psych eval - Other squad members act as his emotional support

Expressed interest in cats and tattoo art (FLAGGED: Further input and comments from other medical professionals would be appreciated)

Medication list + indications

Paracetamol 1000mg - Pain

Amoxicillin/Clavulanic acid 625mg - Infection

Morphine 20mg + Ketamine 4.5mg IV - Pain

Mafenide acetate 5% topical - Antimicrobial, burn wounds

Fluoxetine 20mg twice daily - Depression - not taking est 2001

Allergies

NKDA - No known drug allergies

No environmental, food, or animal allergies

Psych recommends evaluation of a pet, such as cat, for pt while on leave

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herpsandbirds · 1 month

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Found out last year I was allergic to Yellowjackets after getting stung a bunch of times, if I’m allergic to Yellowjackets would I be allergic to bees or wasps or hornets too?

Yellowjacket Allergy

Ok, first of all, I AM NOT A MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL!

My understanding is that if you have a Yellowjacket venom allergy, you may not necessarily have allergies to other wasps (yellowjackets are wasps), and you very likely may not have an allergy to bee stings.

Notice the careful and conditional language I am using...

From what I understand, bee venom and wasp venoms have different components that people may be allergic to. There are some components that are found in both venoms.

Some people are allergic to only yellowjackets, and nothing else.

Some people are allergic to yellowjackets and other wasps, but not bees.

Some people are allergic to both yellowjackets and bees.

I think you should see an allergist to be tested for these things.

Are You Allergic To Insect Stings? Types Of Reactions, Symptoms And Treatments (webmd.com)

Insect Sting Allergies | Symptoms & Treatment | ACAAI Public Website

#insect #hymenoptera #bee #yellowjacket #wasp #animals #nature

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 1 year

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Truly the best animals to play this game with are insects, we just have so many names for each. So! Today we are playing with WASPS! Good old wasps.

Notes for Further Reading!

Cacynen feirch: a livestock connection, so I'm guessing it's a farmer name from frustrated agricultural workers in August trying to keep their animals unbothered. But also, there's the etymology of 'cacynen' itself - from cach (shit) and ci (dog). Ci gets used fairly generically with Welsh animal names, but possibly the cach is from the old belief that bees, wasps and flies were born via spontaneous generation out of faeces, corpses and mud. Perhaps in Wales it was specifically believed to be from horse shit?

Cacynen felen: not much to say, they are yellow. Ooh, although, a fossilised example of a gendered colour term; you only see these in nature names now

Gwenynen feirch: the stinging fly that bothers horses. The verb gwanu means to stab/penetrate, so referring to the puncture-like nature of a wasp's sting

Cacynen y geifr: as with entry one, but goats instead of horses. I expect these came from farmers who worked different livestock

Cacynen fach: slightly odd because the common wasp is not that small. But it is smaller than many common species of Welsh bumblebee? Certainly smaller than hornets. Or possibly it's just a standard generic term.

Cacynen y cythraul: well WHAT a fun name. Cythraul is like... a demon, a devil, a creature from hell. Very evocative. Clearly, whoever came up with this one had a picnic ruined and was fucking livid about it.

Picwnen: from 'pig' (thorn) and 'cwn' (dogs). The '-en' ending shows it's singular and often creeps into Welsh words that technically had alternative singular/plural forms. A big example of this is fish, which used to be pysgod/pysg (singular/plural), but over time got hyper corrected to pysgodyn/pysgod because it sounded more correct

Piffgwnen: a corruption of the above (remember the cadno/canddo thing)

Piffgi: a further corruption of the above that has remembered the word 'cwn' is correctly singular-ised to 'ci'.

Cacynen frith: brith means, like, speckled/brindled/striped. Colour-marked. So referring to the stripes. Quite an old and poetic term that crops up a lot in nature names, just like cacynen felen, and also in old cookery terms (e.g. bara brith)

***

Okay! That's all you get! As ever, these are all true EXCEPT one. Also, I use a random number generator to decide where the fake one should go and how much explanation to give; and several people have started talking about red herrings, so remember! There are no red herrings. I'm not picking and choosing, these are genuine words except one. Beware of thinking you're seeing patterns in the options in these! It's you Vs etymology, not you Vs a standardised test. My logic ONLY plays into how well I can hide the fake, and I am randomising a lot of that process.

Good luck and happy clicking!

#I need a specific tag for these #linguistics #wales!#closed for cleaning on mondays #who's that pwcamon

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ash-rigby · 1 year

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Sampling The Wares (Shark Humanoid) [F/F]

Featured Characters: Female human and a female shark humanoid. Both are adults.

Description: Enid, an adventurer seeking coin, has been tasked with travelling over treacherous waters for the sole purpose of obtaining a powerful aphrodisiac from a monstrous sea witch. Audra has what she seeks, but offers the warrior a chance to test the substance before she leaves. Enid is compelled to oblige.

Contains: Aphrodisiacs, Nipple Play, Mild Nipple Growth, Mild Clit Growth, Non-Penetrative Sex, Oral, Tribbing, Degradation, Multiple Orgasms.

Completion Date: July 2nd, 2023

Word Count: 4731

The closer Enid got to the island, the more it revealed itself to undeniably be a place of magic. The harsh, whipping winds suddenly dissipated in an instant and the turbulent waters which had threatened her small vessel calmed. The surface was like glass, revealing swirling, pale lights and wholly unique sea creatures. Anywhere that Enid’s skin was bare still stung from the cold, so the warmth that descended—though very humid—was welcome.

She was there on behalf of a man and woman from a town she had been passing through. They were offering substantial coin to anyone who would brave the perpetually tumultuous bay and the individual who presided in it; a witch in alleged possession of a certain magical substance. A powerful aphrodisiac, to be precise. It was an extreme length to go to for some added intensity in the bedroom, but Enid wasn’t about to turn down such a payment.

Her boat was dragged up onto the shore by an unseen force as she approached. A long, dark and slimy tendril emerged from the sand which made her reach for her sword. But it simply acted to tie the ship in place, burbling quietly as it secured itself. She released a breath and disembarked.

Before Enid was a moderately-sized, craggy rock face. A staircase with stone steps and decrepit wooden railings ran up it. It could only lead to the small island’s only dwelling; the home of Audra. Several large insects scurried out of Enid’s way when she walked towards it and began to carefully ascend.

At the top edge of the cliff, she came to a dirt pathway leading up a fog-shrouded knoll to a modest shack a short distance away. She paused to look for any sign of the reportedly monstrous witch. Nothing. The only movement was that of a crow pecking at something on the cabin’s crooked roof. It eyed her curiously as she approached, cocking its head before returning to its repetitive business.

Enid made her way up the three creaking porch steps and to the shack’s door. Beside it was a tarnished bell hanging from a short, haphazardly-installed metal arm.

“Best not to assume I can just barge right in,” Enid thought.

She pulled the bell’s string, startling as it made a horrible squawking noise instead of a ring. Her attention snapped from it and back to the door which opened mere seconds later.

There stood a creature a couple heads shorter than Enid; humanoid in most places, shark-like in others. She had sand-coloured skin, muddy yellow eyes, and a shock of short, unkempt golden hair on her head. Many deadly-looking teeth stuck out from her lips which twitched into an insincere smile as the equally sharp gaze travelled to meet hers.

“Hello, pup,” the creature said in a voice like salt water.

Enid straightened her spine. “Are you Audra?”

“I am she,” the witch said. She briefly looked Enid over, her nostrils wrinkling as she scoffed. “More hired muscle to take out a coward’s perceived threat?”

Her tone wasn’t angry or fearful; more lightly condescending. As if she were speaking to an insect that could be easily crushed should it think large enough of itself to try and sting.

“No,” Enid said, taking her hand away from the hilt of her blade. “I’ve come to purchase…something specific.”

Audra sniffed. “Suppose you wouldn’t have bothered ringing otherwise.”

She turned back towards the inside of her home, the fin of her shark tail audibly brushing the door frame.

“Come in, then,” she said. “Let’s get you sorted.”

Enid followed, finding herself in a dimly lit room full of curios and magical implements. There was a scent in the air. It wasn’t unpleasant, warm in her nose and somewhat spicy. Various ingredients were laid out on a table nearby. Assorted herbs, jars full of liquid too murky to discern the contents, and a strange purple root sitting half-chopped on a cutting board. Enid had clearly caught the witch in the middle of something; she would try and make this quick.

“Now, what might a warrior want of me?” Audra asked, leaning against the work table with her thick arms crossed over her chest; which was bare and carried two matching horizontal scars underneath where her breasts might have once been. She motioned towards the sword at Enid’s hip. “Perhaps to enchant that toothpick you carry?”

Enid gripped the scabbard protectively. “It was left to me by my late father. I would not see it altered.”

“Suit yourself,” Audra said with a shrug of her broad shoulders. She blinked into their brief silence. “Speak. What do you want?”

Enid’s face burned. She had not considered the embarrassment that would come from requesting the item she had come for.

“Courtesan’s Touch,” she said. "A jar of Courtesan’s Touch.“

A real grin found Audra then, a chuckle shaking her frame and flaring the gills on her neck.

"I haven’t brought any of that to the mainland for a while,” she said thoughtfully. “You must be desperate to come this far for it, you naughty thing.”

“It’s not for me,” Enid defended.

“Your loss,” Audra said, her yellow eyes flashing even in the low light as she walked over to a nearby cabinet. “It’s exhilarating. What your client lacks in guts to come themselves, they make up for in taste.”

Enid coughed. “It’s not my job to judge; my client or the product.”

“But of course,” Audra said. She procured one of a collection of clay jars from the cabinet. It had a burlap cloth secured with twine covering the opening. “Though it could be.”

“What do you mean?” Enid asked, finding herself oddly fixated on the way Audra’s large hand cupped the round jar.

“Come now,” Audra said with a smirk. “You’re telling me you aren’t the least bit curious? To ‘sample the wares’, as it were?”

She was not wrong; Enid had speculated multiple times about the substance. What was it about a simple topical ointment that could be worth her journey and pay? It had to be powerful. Images of heated bodies going wild together with pleasure under its influence rose unbidden in her mind.

“None whatsoever,” she said, attempting to dash the lustful thoughts away and keep her pride. “This is a—.”

“Job, yes,” Audra interrupted. “However.”

The witch moved forward into Enid’s space, her voice lowering.

“I’m hard to deceive, pup. This excites you. You may lie, but my nose doesn’t.”

She accompanied her words with an indiscreet glance lower on Enid’s body and then back to her face, her hairless brow raising.

“You…” Enid murmured, taking a half-step back as a further flush slammed into her.

Audra gave a harsh bark of laughter. “I was kidding…but I’m right, aren’t I?”

Enid’s lips pressed tightly together as she looked to the floor, her heart hammering and not just from embarrassment. She watched as Audra returned to the cabinet and procured a second jar that was half the size of the first.

“Your journey was long and you seem tense,” Audra said. She held out the smaller jar. “Why not unwind?”

Enid stared at the offered item, knowing she should refuse but feeling her resolve flaking away. She hadn’t even thought about sex for a while. Not before she had taken that couple up on their request. But surely, it couldn’t be that easy for her to give in to such an indulgent whim.

Audra was pushing. Though it did seem malicious. It wasn’t as if the witch had any reason to poison Enid or some other such wicked deed. Perhaps she was simply trying to sell more of her wares than this transaction intended. And perhaps it was working.

“You may use my bedroom. Completely undisturbed.” Audra continued, gesturing behind her.

At the rear of the shack, there was a room cut off from the home proper by a ragged but effective privacy curtain. Enid looked at it and then back to Audra. She sighed and, against her better judgement, took the jar.

“I…suppose it would be best to know its quality for certain,” she said. “Find out if the stories are just stories.”

Audra grinned. “Of course…that’s all.”

Enid brushed past her and made her way to the bedroom.

“Call if you need anything,” Audra said after her as the curtain was shut.

The room was small, mostly taken up by the bed but still with more than enough walking space around it. Despite being alone, Enid couldn’t help but feel awkward. She could scarcely believe she was doing this. The jar in her hand suddenly felt so volatile. Placing it on the bed, she set about removing her gear and clothes until she was standing topless in the witch’s bedroom.

Enid sat on the edge of the mattress. It was old, but not dirty. She laid herself down against the pillows which were individually flat and stacked to be in any way comfortable. Taking a breath, she then reached for the jar and removed the lid.

The scent of the contents hit her at once; not unlike honey with a hint of something earthy. It flooded her senses and made something pleasantly shiver its way down her spine. Emboldened by rising excitement, she scooped up a bit of the milky-coloured ointment with her fingers. She ignored the need between her legs, not quite ready to go that far with it yet. Instead, she brought it to one of her nipples.

As Enid rubbed it against her quickly perking flesh, it thinned into a liquid that ran in rivulets down the curve of her breast. She did the same with the other before leaving the jar at her side to work the substance in with both hands. A pleased sigh escaped her as she teased herself. It felt good, but nothing more than what was typical.

She added more, making the whole of her tits glisten with it. Arousal flickered to life inside of her; a small, controlled candle flame rather than a blaze. Her thighs began to rub together unconsciously. She was certainly losing herself to this more quickly, but she wondered when the real show would begin. Was this all?

Just as Enid was starting to doubt the witch’s words, she felt a tingling sensation wherever the ointment had touched, concentrated at its highest power on the now-hardened buds on her breasts. She stopped touching herself just to feel it descend upon her with fascination. It was warm and didn’t seem set on fading. Quite the contrary; it was growing more intense by the second.

Enid was helpless to it. She began to pant as sweat sprung up over her heating body. She became aware that the quick heaving of her chest was bringing her pleasure, however subtle the movement it brought to her breasts. Shaking fingers rose once more to her nipples. A loud moan wrenched itself from her as her back snapped into an arch from the intense pleasure.

Her body dropped heavily and she lay in shock for only a moment before she was compelled to continue.

“Fuck…fuck,” she whimpered, rolling a hyper-sensitive nipple between her thumb and forefinger.

Her heart knocked against her ribs. This was it. This was what she had been looking for and more. Any walls she had pointlessly held up shattered and she gave herself over entirely to the Touch.

Enid proceeded to grope herself like she never had before; hard and desperate. Her hands squeezed the mound of her breasts, all but tugged at her nipples. Wetness was gathering in her undergarments the longer she fondled. Shameless noises and curses streamed from her mouth which began to drool from the corners.

She could imagine the sight she made; reduced so quickly to a writhing mess just from touching her own tits. But she wanted more. Needed more.

Enid paused, hands falling to rest at her sides. A glance down her body showed her thoroughly used nipples. She gasped to see them having swollen to twice their original size. They were dark and lightly, but visibly, throbbing.

Enid reached for her belt. She fumbled with it, discovering that her fingers were shaking too much to undo the buckle. Her pussy demanded attention with ardent pulses. The need to please it was enough to bring frustrated tears to Enid’s eyes. Her hands dropped once more, gathering the sheets tightly into her palms.

Biting back a whine, her gaze was drawn back to her chest, slick with a combination of the ointment and her sweat. Her engorged nipples continued to rapidly twitch. She tried to resume teasing them, but a single prod caused a shock of limb-weakening pleasure. It was too much. She couldn’t keep up. The realization struck that she couldn’t finish this herself.

Laying there, set upon by relentless arousal strong enough to bring her a full-body tremble, it was hard to think. But she didn’t have to contemplate long about what to do next. Her mind wandered to sharp teeth and strong arms. To large, undoubtedly skillful hands that would be a balm on this ache. With a voice rising to an embarrassing near-wail, Enid called out in an urgent appeal to the only person for miles.

“Audra!”

Enid waited, praying that the witch hadn’t left the home. But the privacy curtain was soon being pushed aside and Audra strode into the room. Her eyes glinted as they slowly roamed Enid’s body which lay on willing display for her. A dark tongue darted out briefly over her bottom fangs, making Enid swallow hard around her heavy breaths.

Audra hummed in amusement. “My, my, what a state.”

“Please…please, Audra. Please,” Enid pleaded. “I-I need—.”

Shushing her, Audra approached the bed. She chuckled; more fond this time than ridiculing.

“Patience, pup,” she said lowly. “I have you.”

She situated herself on the bed and leaned over Enid, the scent of her heavy and intoxicating. Her hand cupped Enid’s face and she instinctively turned into it, exposing the length of her neck. Warm breath ghosted over her skin as Audra’s tongue traced its way up her throat and up to her ear, teasing at the lobe. Even that simple of an action made her cunt throb; she was done for.

Audra pulled away. “Look at me.”

Enid obeyed, meeting the witch’s thin pupils before being brought into a kiss. Though it was not as much of a kiss as it was Audra slipping her tongue directly into her mouth. She felt her eyes widen as the impossibly long muscle snaked down her throat and she couldn’t deny how arousing it was. Sharp teeth grazed her lips as the tongue explored deeply. Enid moaned around it when a hand finally found her chest.

Audra took one of Enid’s breasts, pressing and rolling the nipple under her thumb. Swollen and straining, it pulsed all the harder under the witch’s touch. She could certainly feel it and that fact should have been mortifying. But Enid couldn’t muster an ounce of care. Not when it was the source of such pleasure.

Cries muffled by the thick tongue laving around in her throat, Enid felt wild. Every brush against her nipple added to the fluttering heat that had overtaken her entire body. She thought she may very well quiver out of her skin.

Audra then retracted her tongue, licking her teeth as Enid gasped for air. Drool glistened on her chin and her gaze had become hungry. Both hands went to Enid’s tits, relentless attention fixed on the sensitive buds upon them. She gave yet another devious chuckle over Enid’s loud moans, her voice slightly rougher as she spoke.

“Look at them throbbing like that,” Audra marveled. “I knew there was a perverted body under that tough exterior. It’s always the uptight ones.”

Enid merely whimpered, ecstasy fighting against any coherent speech.

“Looks tasty,” Audra said and it was the only warning Enid received before that probing tongue descended onto her chest.

It was so much better than a hand, circling over her nipple at alternating paces as Audra let out low, satisfied noises. Like someone devouring a delicious meal. Enid weakly tugged at the sheet, head tossed back against the pillow. Her breasts were slowly wet further with warm saliva as Audra moved her mouthy affections between both. The sensation was filthy, but she revelled in it.

A fever of pleasure wracked her body. Her legs snapped open of their own accord as her ignored pussy dribbled and throbbed. She wanted nothing more than to grind it against something—anything. Her hips writhed with that desire but she could do nothing more.

Yet, somehow, it was enough.

Enid moaned when a familiar feeling, though with an unfamiliar epicentre, surged within her. It was rapidly building to a peak as she was fondled and licked. Her nipples all but pounded with heartbeats of their own; though that was likely the effect of her own racing pulse in her ears. She could barely tell what was what anymore through the haze of impending release.

Audra was unwavering, her pleased vocalizations vibrating against slick, heated skin.

“Audra…I can't—Audra, I’ll cum,” Enid said, frantic and breathless. “I…I—oh, fuck! I’m cumming! I’m cu—!”

The words were cut off by a loud, quavering cry. Completely untouched, pleasure radiated from her sweltering cunt. Her back bent into as much as an arch as was allowed by Audra remaining on top of her. The witch teased her through it, prolonging her ecstasy until it was almost unbearable.

Enid’s orgasm dropped her. She lay catching her breath, twitching periodically with aftershocks as her nipples continued to throb. Audra had sat back to seemingly admire her work. An infuriatingly arousing smugness was settled into those shark-like features.

“And that,” Audra said, fangs flashing. “Is Courtesan’s Touch.”

Her hand lighted on Enid’s torso just below her heaving breasts. She trailed her fingers downwards. They came to a stop just before travelling between Enid’s legs, toying with the seam on her pants.

“It does wonders here,” she said, undeniable excitement oozing from her tone. “May I?”

Enid nodded. “Please.”

“Good girl.”

Audra relinquished Enid of the rest of her clothes, gently sliding a single large hand under the small of her back to encourage her to assist by lifting her hips. Enid’s pants and underwear were dropped unceremoniously to the floor and her pussy was exposed to the air. She shivered, watching curiously as Audra took a moment to remove her waist wrappings and even things with her own nudity.

“Let’s not let you have all the fun,” she said.

Remaining standing by the bed, Audra lifted a foot and placed it up on the bed by Enid’s head so that her cunt was on full display. Enid couldn’t help but stare at the enticing folds and prominent clit. She swallowed at the thought of sucking it. The unrelenting heat of the aphrodisiac still raged and quickened her breath as her desirous gaze remained fixed.

Audra reached down to thumb at her clit, eliciting a pleased hum. She gestured with a flick of her head to Enid’s side.

“Hand me that, would you?”

Enid fumbled a little in reaching for the jar and giving it to Audra. The witch took a liberal amount of the ointment, using two of her thick fingers to rub it into her pussy. It quickly left a glistening, wet mess. Audra made a show of it, thrusting lightly into the air above Enid’s face as she played with herself. The scent of her soon-leaking cunt was dizzying.

“Getting a good look, aren’t you?” Audra asked in between heavy breaths. “You like to watch…I can tell.”

“Yes,” Enid admitted, barely suppressing a needy whine at the sight of flushed and dripping folds parting eagerly for tireless fingers. She would kill for that then. Her body cried out in every silent but still insistent way to be teased and fucked. She couldn’t stand it any longer.

Audra paused before any begging could occur. The whole of her pussy twitched as she remained with her foot up on the bed for only a few more moments. Enid could see a slight swelling beginning in her clit, wondering just how much it would be affected by the Touch.

Palming the jar and still breathing slightly erratically, Audra moved to sit back on the bed. Enid’s heart began to pound again in anticipation. Her head lolled against the pillow so she felt more than saw when Audra’s fingers made contact with her neglected pussy. It throbbed hard at the first stroke, sending her hips jolting.

The ointment melted to its liquid state as Audra took up an agonizingly slow pace. Enid moaned all the same, shaking and weak with the relief of finally being touched this way. Every stroke was heavenly, but they stopped all too soon. She felt movement which brought her attention to the witch.

Audra climbed up onto the bed, situating herself on her knees between spread thighs. Giving the warrior a crafty look, she reached out and grabbed Enid’s waist, pulling her forward with unexpected strength. Enid yelped and found herself with her backside resting up on Audra’s legs, her own splayed out on either side of the witch.

Audra smiled at the indignant expression she received but said nothing. She reached for the jar again to gather more ointment—and focus a generous portion entirely on Enid’s clit. The warm, wide pad of Audra’s thumb worked it in with slow circles. Enid’s toes curled from the pleasure. Her lower half trembled, her soaking cunt quivering with every pass over her clit.

She panted as a familiar tingling settled in. She felt it like hot blood rushing rapidly into her clit. Her eyes rolled back with it. This time, she was hyper-aware of the swell. Every heartbeat-like pulse filled out her clit further. The sheer increasing strain of it kept cries spilling from her lips even though the touches had ceased.

Enid knew that Audra had stopped to observe. To watch her grow with that sharp, starving animal look of hers. She could feel those feral eyes on her pussy and it only served to make her clit pound harder. Biting back a sob, she finally looked at Audra, her aroused ideas confirmed.

But more than Audra’s intense staring, Enid was struck by the state of her clit. It had grown to a fair three inches, thick and throbbing as it stood jutting away from her body not unlike a cock. She whimpered, dying to touch it, but unable to stop her mind from whirling enough to put her hand into motion.

Audra let out a low growl, but it was accompanied by a large, toothy grin. She shuffled backwards ungracefully, allowing Enid’s body to drop hard onto the mattress. The motion made Enid’s raging clit bob drastically and stars burst in her wavering vision at the shock of pleasure.

“Stay with me, pup,” Audra said huskily at the same time that Enid felt warm air puff against the skin of her sweat-slick thigh.

The witch was suddenly laying on her stomach between Enid’s legs, her pointed face inching closer to her cunt. That tongue which had enthusiastically explored her throat and teased her nipples slipped once again through deadly fangs. Enid barely had a lucid second to brace herself before it was tracing its way up her folds. A wail shook itself from her as it wrapped around the length of her clit.

Audra bobbed her head, writhing her tongue as she moved. The wet, rhythmic squeeze was exquisite. Her breath was humid against the mound of Enid’s pussy, laced with frequent drops of the saliva glinting off her fangs. The yellow eyes had glazed over somewhat, a whisper of palpable arousal forming on shark-like features as Audra’s hips began to rut against the mattress.

“Gods…gods,” Enid gasped, finally finding it in herself to return her hands to her still swollen and twitching nipples. Her moans cracked to a higher pitch, sounding in the small space over and over. She bucked into Audra’s face when pleasure would spike. Part of her feared she may lance herself on those sharp teeth, but it was a faint concern fogged by the mounting ecstasy of a fast-approaching release. Enid whined, ready to burst.

The tongue abruptly released her.

Frustration flared, tangling with the need in her voice. “N-no…why—?”

Similarly breathless, Audra crawled forward. She was keeping her typical expression, but desperation still seeped through the cracks. Once their hips aligned, she stopped.

“Like hell am I passing up feeling you cum on mine,” she said huskily.

Looking down, Enid saw Audra’s clit; similarly augmented to a larger size and throbbing hard between her legs. The witch’s cunt was dripping, slick falling onto Enid’s body as she hovered above. Two deeply heated sets of eyes met for only a moment’s silence.

“Fuck me,” Enid breathed. “Fuck me…fuck me.”

Audra grinned and brought their swollen clits together. They moaned in near unison as she initially stilled, straining flesh twitching fervidly against each other. She began thrusting, slowly at first but gaining speed as their combined wetness eased the movement.

Enid’s hands landed on Audra’s thighs. She held on for dear life, her nails digging into muscle-taut skin. The pounding in the length (and it was still strange to apply that word) of her clit worked south, sending both of her holes twitching with pleasure. Her pussy was on fire and soaked the sheets beneath them. She cried out, any words incoherent aside from Audra’s name repeating on her tongue.

Audra was practically snarling, the sounds punching out of her with every forward thrust. She was truly bearing down. The full weight of her descended in deep grinds.

“Take it, pup. Take it,” she growled. “Let’s get off just humping together like this, huh? That’s all we need. We’re just a couple of horny beasts.”

Enid moaned, unstable from Audra’s rough thrusting. “More…more…more! Oh, gods, more!”

“Nothing—hah—nothing else to say that isn’t begging?” Audra asked, playfully proud. “What happened to that smart tongue of yours? Cum yourself stupid on that last one?”

Maybe. But did Enid care? Not in the slightest. She didn’t care that she had let things go this far. She didn’t care that Courtesan’s Touch had made a needy little fuck-toy out of her. Every fibre of her being was alight in ways it never had been before. She readily lost herself to every deep throb in her engorged clit and gushing cunt.

“Harder,” she groaned through grit teeth.

Audra gave a laugh that was aborted in part by a choked moan as she obliged and upped her pace. Their bodies all but thrashed together, clits sliding over one another in a tight, wet press. The thick, heady scent of their fucking was broken only by the occasional sweet whiff of the Touch; a reminder of the simple ointment that had reduced them to this.

Like a shot, Enid found herself cumming. Any movements she was adding to the clash of aroused flesh stilled as she shook and moaned. The ever-present pulsing of her clit reached its apex while Audra continued. But it only took a few more wild, uncoordinated thrusts for the witch to join her.

Enid felt her throbbing and watched as golden eyes rolled back under flickering lids. Contrary to the earlier feral noises and filthy words, Audra was oddly quiet in her release. She seemed to be holding her breath before letting out an audible, gravelly and shaking exhale as she came down from it. Her head remained lowered, hiding her face from Enid while she gathered herself.

With a purposeful inhale, she eventually straightened and looked down at the human pinned underneath her. The corners of her mouth perked.

“So…that meet your standards?” she said, a bead of sweat dripping from her temple and caressing her lower jaw.

When she didn’t receive an answer from a still-panting Enid right away, she moved to dismount. But she was stopped by two hands slapping down onto her thighs. She dropped back down, mild shock finding her face for the first time.

“As I said,” Enid said slowly, heat creeping into her face despite her demanding tone. “More.”

Audra flashed that beastly grin and bent forward to grab the jar.

“You should be wary of what you ask for, pup.”

End

Masterlist

#text #spicy #ash originals #terato #exophilia #f/f #monster love #monster lover #monster girlfriend #shark oc #oc:audra #oc:enid

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homenecromancer · 4 months

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I've finished editing the Eraser!Jeb fic, and here it is. I'll figure out a title later. Maybe.

This is a fic about turning yourself into a werewolf as a metaphor for self-destructive behavior / doing a lot of drugs; there are also some light notes of body horror, and a couple of mentions of vomit. We have fun here.

Your mother would’ve said that the devil made you do it. That you were a damn fool who didn’t have the sense God gave a mouse, and you’d never held back a moment from doing something once the idea got in your head.

You would’ve disagreed with the first two statements – the third had an uneasy kind of truth, one you hated for someone else to see. There was a reason you didn’t talk to your mother anymore: she knew you much too well.

There was something inside you that didn’t know when to stop. Something encysted in your soul, a foreign object caught inside you like an insect in amber – something relentlessly alive, forever in motion, eyes on the horizon. Even when you wanted to rest, it was eternally in search of the next thing. Your heart was never really quiet, as much as you kept looking for the thing that would put that inner demon to sleep. No achievement, no drug, nothing had ever done the trick.

Taking the Eraser serum, making yourself the first human test subject, seemed grandiose enough that it just might work. Or at least you told yourself that.

You calculated the dose based on the just-concluded primate trials. You signed out the materials late on a Friday, when there was no one left at the lab to stop you. You tied a tourniquet around your left bicep and squeezed your fist until the vein in the crook of your elbow rose snakelike from the skin. You wiped the area with alcohol, took a deep breath, and slid the needle into the vein.

Your skin surprised you with its toughness – there was a bright sting of pain when you finally broke through. Then you pulled back the plunger, and blood flashed theatrically red in the chamber. It would be a better story if the serum had a malignant glow to it, or a mysterious heat, or anything that betrayed its nature, but it was innocently translucent. It might as well have been water. You hoped it would finally silence that ophidian evil inside you.

If you went slowly, you might have lost your nerve. In one motion, you slid the plunger home.

You knew better than to expect an immediate effect, but as you undid the tourniquet, there was a hot, familiar anticipation in you. It was the same thing you’d felt when you took your first shot of vodka, the same thing you’d felt the first time you snuck a Darvon from the medicine cabinet – that foolish hope that this would be the thing that cured you, even though you knew it wouldn’t.

When you got home, you ate a hurried meal and went to bed – by morning you’d know whether there would be any effect. There was a chance your immune system would destroy the retrovirus, and you’d have nothing to show for your little adventure but a track mark.

But just after midnight, you awoke with a fever. Excitement and fear mixed in you. You’d done it.

You looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror, searching your reflection for signs of change. With the lights off, you were a barely-visible shadow, a monster in the dark. You playfully bared your teeth at yourself, and went back to bed.

There you laid, hot and itchy under a thin sheet. Now you waited eagerly for your immune system to be overpowered, for your cells to be swayed into a new way of life. Sickness had never had such a narcotic allure.

The older you got, the less you liked being alone with your thoughts. The demon thing that lived in you presented too much danger – it pushed you to your limits as if you were a machine it was testing to destruction. It kept you up all night at work, drove you to skip meals, forced you to the edge of your endurance. Nothing you did was good enough for it. You’d been relieved when you discovered that drinking silenced it – actually, anything did, if it separated you from your body for a while.

Now your body had too tight of a hold on you. The palms of your hands, the soles of your feet, prickled with a fiery itch. You sweated. The still air of your bedroom grew heavy and oppressive, but the idea of leaving it seemed impossible. You pulled the sheet over your head and closed your eyes. All thought left you.

Through the long night, you came to feel a wordless sympathy for the animals you had seen go through this. Their images rose before your mind’s eye, and you felt them as your brothers in this experience. They, too, had lain in one spot and shivered ceaselessly until their muscles ached; they, too, had half-risen from their places only to vomit. (You, at least, had a trashcan next to your bed.)

At one point, you staggered to the bathroom and rinsed your mouth with water from the sink. When you spat, your front teeth went with it, and clattered on the porcelain in a wash of pink-tinged saliva. You stared at them, and remembered a little capuchin you had seen do the same. Your upper jaw throbbed. What were you now? Man or animal? You, too, were suffering a pain you did not understand.

In the mirror, your eyes reflected the light.

You came back to yourself a little when you heard a voice calling your name, in a tone that suggested its owner had been trying to rouse you for some time.

“Jeb? Come on, wake up.” Relief went through you. It was Valencia. “Open your eyes. What did you take?”

Your eyes burned, but you got one open, and you saw her blurry shape beside the bed.

“That’s better,” she said. “I can’t help unless I know what it was.” She touched your arm gently; her hand felt warm. “Heroin? Coke? Work with me.”

“No,” you croaked through a dry throat. “Serum.”

She looked you over. “Bullshit.”

You shook your head. In the new space at the front of your mouth, tiny, razor-sharp teeth poked through the tender gums. Fangs. Your very own, still growing in. You bared them at her. “Look.”

Her eyes widened. “Jesus Christ.”

“See?” It was hard to make the sibilant S sound without feeling like, if your tongue slipped, you’d bite it clean off. Were you going to have to find a way to have your teeth filed down?

“You are so lucky you’re not dead.” She sighed. “Nobody’s seen you since Friday --”

“What’s today?”

“Sunday afternoon. You should move your spare key, by the way. Everyone looks under the doormat first – are you even listening?”

Admittedly, no, not really. She must have opened the blinds; faint golden light lit her from behind and gave her a halo around her dark hair. Her face took on a strange dimension you couldn’t quite define. Your eyesight couldn’t be changing that quickly. You must still be sick. “Yeah,” you said.

She rolled her eyes. “Well, given you’re still alive, you don’t seem to be having a really bad reaction. But you’re still a fucking idiot.” She wrinkled her nose. “And you need a shower.”

Valencia was right about that – your scent had a decidedly off, sick note to it. Also, you could pick that out among all the other smells of your apartment. You started to wrap the sheet around yourself in lieu of a robe. All that you wanted was a shower and to go back to sleep. “’Kay. Thanks for checking on me.”

You felt the same way you did every time you tried a new drug, or did too much of a familiar one – a twisted, excited anticipation, the hope that this time it would take, that the demon in you would finally be dead. At the same time you knew, deep inside, that it wasn’t dead, that it would never die until you did.

You could run as far as you wanted, could poison yourself with any drug you could find, could even half-kill yourself with a genetically-engineered retrovirus, but the demon coiled around your heart would always wake back up someday. Now you would just be waiting until it did. It was cold comfort that you’d be doing that waiting as the first human test subject of the Eraser serum, living proof that it worked. You’d still never really be good enough.

Valencia smiled. “We can’t afford to lose you.”

#marlowe writes maximum ride #maximum ride #and now i must run and get ready for work. fml

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horseshoecrabman · 5 months

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hey guys!!!!! you might not have seen the post, but a few days ago me and my dad set up a beehive with around 3,000+ bees in it! my friends were interested in hearing bee updates, so here it is!

but before i start all of that, here’s some general information on how beehives operate and how to take care of one under the read more!!

expect an actual update on information about the hive dad and i have specifically in a day or so!!!!! thank you!!! :)

(this is by no means a step by step guide, it’s more of just something informative and fun!!!)

jobs bee have in their hives

bees commonly have different jobs in a beehive, the most important being worker bees, drone bees, and the queen bee.

worker bees are the ones you see out and about, pollinating and such. they are also responsible for feeding bee larvae, some also do things such as guard the hive and nurse injured bees! they do have stingers, but it is very true that bees do not sting unless they feel threatened.

queen bees basically control everything in the hive with their pheromones. they will also only leave the hive once in their lives, to find a drone bee and mate with it. once they return and start producing eggs, they can produce eggs for life and will lose their wings and remain in the hive for the rest of their life. worker bees are responsible for feeding the queen, and if a queen isn’t producing enough eggs for the hive or not producing enough pheromones, worker bees can cultivate a new queen by selecting any larvae and by feeding it special honey that they convert themselves, turns it into a queen, and then kill the old one.

drone bees are the ones queens mate with. this is their only purpose, and they also don’t leave the hive. in winter or times where a hive isn’t getting enough to feed everyone, they will be kicked out as they are practically useless.

here’s a picture of how to tell the difference between them!

brood is the official word for bee larvae, and applies to all bees, no matter the type!!! here’s a diagram :)

common pests bees encounter:

just like any animal, it always has a predator to eat it!

aside from things like birds or any insect eating reptile or amphibian are other bugs that are parasites that leech off bees!

varroa mites: varroa mites are small mites, but they are disastrous for a beehive. any beehive will always have a certain number of them, but it is possible to control their numbers with the proper treatments and care. mites will often feast on the fat of adult bees and the larvae, making adult bees weaker and killing larvae. there is a special test to see how many mites you have, typically performed every month or so, where you scoop up around 20 bees and put them in an “alcohol wash” and however many mites you can see in the alcohol indicates if you have an infestation or not. more than 5-10 mites, you have a problem, other than that, you’re safe. the reason its such a small number as 5-10 is because varroa mites reproduce very quickly. the bees you scooped do die because of this, which is really sad, but bees are really smart! they understand when sacrificing some bees will help the entire hive.

hive beetles: hive beetles will crawl into hives and essentially steal their resources! a strong hive can fight them off but a weaker hive will usually die off and if a human owns said hive, they can use certain bee-safe pesticides to kill the hive beetles specifically!

on the topic of pesticides, i just want to say that bees are very endangered. because of things like pesticides as well as general dislike for bees, and fear that they will sting people, they aren’t well liked. i really hope me talking about bees helps people understand that bees are friends and really do benefit the ecosystem and are just as excited about them as i am!!!!!!!!

how to take care of and monitor a hive

one of the many things to keep in mind is that it costs a lot to obtain and maintain a hive, definitely over thousands of dollars, and you might not get much honey from it to make up for this, so if you really do want to have a hive or multiple hives of your own, please keep this in mind.

the first thing you will need is equipment. the first thing is an actual hive for them to be in, one looking something like this:

ours has 6 individual frames in it, where bees build places to store honey (honeycombs) as well as places to store larvae, but the number of frames can vary between how small or big the hive box itself is!

this is what a typical beehive frame looks like !!!

in the photo, you can also see someone wearing a bee protection suit, which protects you from getting stung by any bees that might get mad at you going through their hive. there are other things you can do to calm bees down as well, such as using a smoker!

this is what a typical smoker looks like, they can vary in design, but this one is pretty common! you can put anything flammable in there and light it, i prefer using pine straw, as it doesnt smell bad and its easy to obtain, and squeeze the clamp part to help the fire inside the container spread and use the smoke on the hive.

what does the smoke do?

it basically does two things:

- masks the scent of pheromones for the bees, making them not mad

- distracts the bees from you by making them think something is on fire and focusing their attention on that

it does seem a little scary to know that the bees get panicked, but if you do it in the right amount and not too often they will be completely fine and calm down shortly!!!

alright, that’s all that i have for now, thank you for reading this far!!!!! if you have any questions dont hesitate to send me an ask!!!!

for posts like this and future asks, i’ll use the tag #bee updates to sort it all!!!!

thank you again!!!! 🐝🌻💛

#bee updates

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amalgamgooze · 4 months

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feelin' disoriented

I woke up again this morning feeling strange.

I'm somewhat surprised I didn't find myself turned into a giant insect.

Regardless...

Today I had two tests: one for my Linear Algebra class, and one for Anatomy and Physiology.

Now, I hate Anatomy and Physiology, so of course I studied for the test in hopes that I'd bring my grade up.

I came up with little pneumonic devices for all of the little cat muscles we needed to study for today, filling in all the worksheets and shit.

For Linear Algebra, on the other hand, I didn't study because I kinda assumed I'd fail the test since I hadn't studied yet before today.

...

Now, when I took the Linear Algebra test, it was MUCH easier than I'd expected. In fact, it was disappointingly easy. I'm not sure what happened there.

And as for Anatomy and Physiology?

I scored a 5/20 on the test.

Despite my efforts.

And I got "turbo dunked on" by the other kids in my class for it.

I think they use me as a standard for what a "high achieving student" looks like. That's totally false. I can't control the achieving and the not achieving anymore. I'm not the outstanding student I once was.

That doesn't mean it didn't still sting when everyone else cheered because they got a higher grade than me.

...and it's not because they want to spite me or anything! I'm confident I'm not an annoying smart kid! I go out of my way to make sure my test scores stay obscured unless someone asks about them!

...

Whatever. I'm overreacting to it, I think. I knew I was going to do poorly on the test. I just kind of assumed that studying would have helped me just a little more.

The world really just does continue to spite me at every turn, huh?

I suppose that's the way it runs for all of us.

...

And this evening.

I finally felt a burst of productivity to clean my room for the first time in a while.

...and then I was invited to go play some volleyball with a grass net.

Which, don't get me wrong--I love playing volleyball. It's just... now?

When I'm feeling productive?

That's when I get invited and distracted by something worth being distracted by?

...

I just have strong opinions on the universe's treatment of me.

I'm sure many of you all have similar opinions on how the universe has treated you all.

Just still makes me weird and disoriented.

#blog #writing #narrative #rant #personal rant #existence #spite #the universe #absurdism #despite

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viillaincoded · 9 months

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lee pace. 43. cis-male. he/him. ┊┊ cerberus corp has been watching JACKSON BRUNGOT. some of the public has dubbed them HIVE because of LIVING HIVE gifted by A HORNET ATTACK. having been an extra ordinary since 2023, they’re doing a good job at hiding THAT’S HE'S TERRIFIED OF HIMSELF. when they aren’t working their day job as an ATTORNEY, they are fond of ICE SKATING and are never seen without HIS WEDDING RING. at first glance they seem SENSITIVE & PRAGMATIC, though their close friends know them to also be REPRESSED & NERVOUS. they consider themself a CIVILIAN. ┊┊ connor. he/they. 24. cst.

CONTENT WARNING for EMOTIONAL ABUSE, SUBSTANCE ABUSE, BUGS, AND INSECT IMAGERY.

001. GENERAL

name jackson brungot nicknames jack (hates it, but probably won’t correct you) age forty three date of birth march fifteenth zodiac pisces place of birth buffalo, new york current residence new york city, new york gender cis male pronouns he/him sexuality gay occupation attorney

faceclaim lee pace height 6’5” tattoos a small duck on the inside of his ankle piercings (closed) lip piercing distinguishing features dark academia style, closely trimmed fingernails positive traits pragmatic, focused, loyal, sensitive, magnanimous negative traits repressed, intense, calculated, insecure, nervous labels / tropes love martyr, creepy good, body horror, guilt complex, people pleaser likes reading, fashion, (pretends to like) hockey, (actually likes) figure skating, musicals dislikes disappointing people, dogs (scared of them), the dark (also scared of it) fears his powers, dogs, the dark, being alone hobbies reading, ice skating, singing habits holding his reading glasses in his hands (for effect),

002. EXTRA ORDINARY

the questions here for each section are suggestions to get you thinking. as long as the section is appropriately elaborated upon, you’re fine!

near death experience… five weeks ago, he had been trying to get rid of some yellow jackets that had nested in a crack in the wall outside his balcony. the can of raid lasted just long enough to make them all angry before going empty. he suffered twenty three stings, and spent the next day and a half in a coma, one that he was lucky to survive. when he woke, jackson had been afraid that he was still being attacked, but it was simply the hive that had nested inside him, buzzing in his ears.

power… living hive. jackson is a host to a swarm of yellowjackets. they live inside of him, and are able to come out through his mouth, nose, etc, as well they are able to “molt” through his skin. he is able to direct them through thought, as well we can see through the eyes and ears of them (he has not yet learned this technique). when a yellowjacket dies, he is able to make another one, though it can take twelve hours to regenerate a single yellowjacket.

drawbacks / vulnerabilities… the yellowjackets cannot function without his input, as well cannot leave a sixty foot radius. if too many of the yellowjackets die, he will die—similar to a large blood loss. similarly, if he makes too many, jackson will get weak, though he has yet to test the actual limit. he’s terrified of his ability, so he hasn’t been using it.

codename… hive. not chosen by him, just the name from a youtube video that maxed out at two thousand views (currently). jackson doesn’t like it, would rather no one knew he had this ability at all.

003. EXTRA

background

jackson grew up with a very controlling father. beckett brungot was the city attorney for buffalo; ambitious, and image-obsessed, he had an idea of what his son was supposed to look like. he would divorce jackson’s mother when he was six, believing she was making his soft. a nasty custody battle gave his dad full custody. desperate for his remaining parent’s approval, he learned to hide himself to please his father.

his father remarried quickly, giving jackson a younger sibling. half-sibling. the divide between them was encouraged by him, who believed that competition was healthy between siblings. the contempt made it impossible for jackson to truly bond with them, as well as the age gap.

jackson left for college, and quickly went off the rails, like many who have controlling parents. wanting to have his fun, while still not disappointing his father, he started to abuse adderall, thinking it was the lesser of evils. this addiction would follow him through his first marriage, and the majority of the strain between them.

ten years ago, jackson’s younger sibling would confess their powers to jackson and their father. beckett was repulsed by what they could do, whereas jackson was terrified. their father disowned his younger sibling, and he couldn’t find the courage to reach, rationalizing that they had never been close.

it was his cowardice that would lead his first husband to leave him. the shame of the divorce had his father give him the cold shoulder. the rejection, and guilt, pushed him further and further into addiction and self-destruction, until he showed up at his father’s—high, awake for four days—to have the only honest conversation they would ever have. by the end of it, jackson agreed to go to rehab.

he spent the next two months there, and came out truly dedicated to his sobriety. jackson did much of it alone—despite paying for his rehabilitation, his father still refused to talk him, and when he attempted to reach out to his younger sibling to reconcile, he got a short go to hell. despite the odds, he has been able to maintain his sobriety since.

jackson made a solid group of friends, people who showed him how to have fun without drugs, people who showed him the love he never had through his family. through his friends, he met his current husband. life had been merry, domestic bliss

until his nde. since the accident, and the discovery of his powers, he has been slipping back into hold habits, lying, working long hours, isolating himself. jackson was scared of himself, and hasn’t wanted anyone to see his shame.

PINTEREST || PLAYLIST

wanted connections

sibling: please see here.

any gender, fc utp, 30-34 ( 0 / 1 )

somewhere only we know: jackson’s husband. they have been married for 2-5 years, though they’ve known each other for six years (give or take). since jackson’s nde, he’s been very distant, spending basically no time at home, scared of y/m’s reaction (and generally just scared in general tbh). he doesn’t know y/m is an eo as well. all other details i’m down to plot, but i want it to be a wholesome, loving relationship (with a few harmless secrets just for funsies)

men (or masc aligned), rahul kohli or utp, 38+ ( 0 / 1 )

something comforting: a mentor!! jackson is soooo out of his depth, with having a power at all, nonetheless the one he has. he needs someone to teach him how to control this shit (and also someone to tell him everything is fine). jackson’s a neutral good character, so preferably hero/vigilante/good guy leaning, but i’m also down for a villain/villain-leaning character tricking him??

any gender, 35+ ( 0 / 1 )

narcotics anonymous: jackson has been sober for the last nine years, but still attends at least one meeting every few months. i’d love for him to have some friends/acquaintances he has met from here.

any gender, any age ( 0 / ∞ )

i’m down for basically anything though, i love to brainstorm

#cc.intro #( jackson brungot ) / * task .#emotional abuse tw #child abuse tw #bugs tw #substance abuse tw #forgot to write his nde #its there now though

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bluespiderlully · 2 months

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KNY - My lore (Shinobu Kocho) 🦋

And it's finally Shinobu's time (yeah, with this gif of her probably plunging attacking the Taurus Demon in Dark Souls 1 or something).

Okay so, she grew up in the same family where Kanae did so you can read her lore here; and as you know if you red this Kanae should have married Kyojuro before the Kocho family was killed, well, I remind you that in my AU the Rengokus are nobles and so she felt jealous of her older sister, because everyone was celebrating for Kanae and not for her; she developed her stubborn and pungent personality at this point.

When she joined the Corps, she immediately realized she wasn't as strong as her companions, and I don't mean she wasn't skilled, of course she was fast and precise but she lacked of physical strength, for this reason the swordsmiths forged her a katana-rapier so she could sting her enemies and inject poison in them, a thing that fits Insect Breathing perfectly.

Since in this AU Kanae is alive she doesn't work at the Butterfly Mansion as a doctor but she often works in the lab (studying poisons, making medicines or just tests on blood), her personality isn't usually appreciated by patients, of course.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #my au #fanfic #my writing #my ocs #rengoku kyojuro #mitsuri kanroji #giyuu tomioka #obanai iguro #sanemi shinazugawa #kanae kocho #shinobu kocho #tengen uzui #muichiro tokito #enmu tamio #sabito #kny makomo

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noamuth · 10 months

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Escape

[Continued from this story]

Dalamus wakes to the stinging of insects gnawing on the edges of his wounded flesh, forcing him awake and alert. With the scent of blood in the air and no way of knowing how long he has been out, it is only a matter of time before larger creatures search in the hopes of fresh meat.

The energy web has dissipated, and the jade spiders are nowhere to be seen. Why had they not killed him? Was it not their goal? Were they commanded to return before they could finish the job, or had they intentionally left him here?

He moves to hide himself, bracing against the cave wall, crouching against the stones there to obscure his presence from as many angles as possible. Only then does he begin brushing himself off, banishing the crawling things back to the dirt from whence they came, sending them scattering in alarm. The insects on his face and throat are not deterred so easily, refusing the give up their pound of flesh. One by one he pulls them off. Some are more stubborn than others, biting or stinging in defense, or clamping down harder on the edges of his wounds, leaving them even more ragged.

The lacerations on his face and throat still bleed, agitated further by the previous gnawing and bloodletting saliva of the insects, but they are not deep. Blood drips into his mouth, filling his senses with wet iron, but it is not clogging his throat or lungs. His breathing is unobstructed, and his vision is clear.

Dalamus removes his bloodied shirt and begins cutting ribbons from it with a dagger. Using the already soiled portions, he wipes and mops up as much blood from his wounds and skin as possible, then hides the bloodied cloth amidst some stones and mushrooms nearby to serve as a potential decoy. If it is not mistakenly eaten by some beast or insects, the mycelium will likely claim it. Afterwards, he wraps clean strips around his throat and face injuries to the best of his ability, ending the blood trail.

From here, the only way to go is up. Easier said than done. Dalamus has never been beyond the Upperdark, has never even glimpsed the surface. He has heard stories and read books, of course, but never seen it with his own eyes, nor walked the paths required. Rather than taking part in a surface raid as most drow do for their coming-of-age test, Dalamus' Blooding involved a Displacer Beast being captured for the ritual and brought underground.

Menzoberranzan is two miles under the surface, but the tunnels can stretch much longer, twisting and winding and looping on themselves like the coils of ill-mannered snakes, or spread out like the spokes of a drunken spider's web. At least ten different tunnels breach the surface, but he knows not which ones, and casual exploration is a luxury he cannot afford. Getting lost in the Underdark is a guaranteed death, as is returning to Menzoberranzan so soon after being thrown out. His best bet, to his disgust and apprehension, is braving the surface at least until his wounds have healed.

By some blessing of Lolth, Dalamus has not had his piwafwi taken from him, allowing him to use the cloak for much-needed stealth. He draws the hood over his head, invoking the magic within, and he becomes invisible to the naked eye. His bleeding has mostly stopped, but he still needs to be careful. An infection can quickly kill the most resilient of people, and drow are no different in that regard, unfortunately. The makeshift bandages will shield his wounds, at the cost of friction agitating them.

A few minutes of walking reveals his first obstacle. Two drow foot soldiers walk side-by-side, baleful red eyes scanning the darkness and any passageways for potential threats. Dalamus crouches by an outcropping and observes patiently, his piwafwi concealing him flawlessly. He assesses their strength. One carries a sword and shield while the other sports a glaive, together covering close and mid-range combat distance.

Were it just one soldier, winning a battle and obtaining some armor might be possible, but the presence of both a shield and a polearm made his chances of getting close enough to kill extremely slim. The risk is too high. Dalamus can only watch with jealousy as they disappear into the darkness towards Menzoberranzan.

As the distance between himself and the city grows, the tunnels and caverns become more alive. The most abundant flora within the Underdark are mushrooms, molds and lichens, growing in every shape, size, and color, with varying levels of hostility. Lichens and mosses appear in patches on the ground or clinging to rock faces, providing soft turf, slowly breaking down stone, and holding soils together. Molds are often found where condensation drips from stalactites, or near other rare sources of water in the Underdark.

Some, like the Bonecap and Rogue's Morsel, are small, and sport shades of black and brown to match the soil. They are often gathered to create poisons, or potions of healing, respectively. Dalamus picks a few Rogue's Morsels whenever he passes a cluster of the unassuming mushrooms, shoving their caps in a pouch at his side. Though he has not the tools for true alchemy, if he can find the ingredients for a crude suspension, the resulting paste may still provide some benefits.

Torchstalks are clusters of round, orange, bulbous mushrooms, some as tall as a person, ready to explode at the lightest touch or breeze. The intensity of their glow warns passersby when they are getting too close, and disturbing one risks igniting a chain reaction of any nearby Torchstalks. Timmasks are common, starting as small, radially striped bulbs the width of a barrel which grow and open up into table-shaped mushrooms. Unlike other mushrooms which might explode or spew acidic spores, Timmask spores are expelled in a cloud which induces extreme confusion, often causing a victim to double over in bouts of hysterical laughter until the spores disperse. Best to avoid all of them if he is to remain hidden.

The largest mushrooms tower even above minotaurs, some as tall as, or even taller, than buildings. Usually blue or orange in color, they line often-trod paths within large caverns, their gills glowing softly with bioluminescence, their caps acting as giant lampshades. Though large mushrooms are few and far between in tunnels, they provide helpful cover from creatures which lurk above.

Creatures with limited strength--or higher intelligence--often rely on stealth in the Underdark, such as Dalamus, who painstakingly makes his way from mushroom to mushroom, using them as cover in addition to his piwafwi's magic. One can never be too careful. Deep bats of all sorts hide in crevices, Darkmantles disguise themselves as stalactites, and Lolth-forbid he should wander too close to a psionic creature like an Aboleth.

He hears the telltale buzzing and buffeting of many wings and knows that a thirst of stirges are nearby. Nasty creatures the size of a large bat covered in short red fur, with two membranous wings and four eight-jointed legs which ended in sharp pincers. The pincers can rend flesh, but are usually used to hold onto their prey while their long needle-like mouthpiece drains a victim of blood.

Numbering at least ten, they are headed in his direction, drawn by the scent of the blood which has stained his bandages the color of old rust. Although not the most fearsome creatures to encounter as individuals, stirges are terrifying in a swarm, determined enough to bring a minotaur to its knees if blood has been spilled.

His piwafwi hides his physical form and heat signature, but cannot hide his scent. He needs to disguise the scent of blood somehow...

Dalamus moves with utmost caution away from the swarm, but they buzz faster than his feet can move him without revealing his position. He stops amidst a patch of mushrooms, hoping the dank, musty scent will confuse the swarm. But it does not slow their curious but hungry approach.

In a final effort to hide his wounds, Dalamus grabs a cluster of Swarming Toadstools, ripping the caps off to rub the gills and spores over the surface of his bandages. Swarming Toadstools are an ingredient in the favored sleeping poison often used by drow. Dalamus is immune to any potential effects the raw mushroom may have, but the smell deters many creatures from consuming it. Hopefully it will prevent him from being consumed, too.

The stirges swarm closer, still following a trail in the air, and he worries it will not be enough. He crouches among the mushrooms, careful not to crush them and indicate his presence, and watches as the swarm moves ever closer, like a vampiric cloud of angry syringes. His heart picks up speed, preparing him to either fight or flee should he be discovered, and he forces his breathing to stay even despite every muscle screaming at him to run.

But the creatures slow, and eventually stop just a few paces away. They have lost the trail. Dalamus almost sighs in relief. After a few moments of confused hovering and humming amongst themselves, the stirges return from whence they came, and the droning in his sensitive ears finally stops... only to be replaced by the sound of footsteps.

Another drow patrol, this time a single soldier on a riding lizard, sporting a glaive to attack while in the saddle. The lizard is large, a dull green, and long in the neck and tail. No surface is safe from a riding lizard, as its specialized toes allow it to walk on walls and ceilings, and the saddles were made to hold their riders even while upside down.

Nilaufein had often spoken at length about the creatures--their diets, their behaviors, their personalities. And while he had enjoyed taking care of them, he did not enjoy the method with which the lizards' loyalties were cemented, a magical compulsion which overrode the lizards' natural instincts. On rare occasion, Nilaufein had joked about stealing some eggs to raise for himself, vowing to treat them better. To Dalamus it seemed foolish. Why change a method that works so well? ...He wonders if this lizard is related to any that Nilaufein had had a hand in raising.

The soldier's red eyes scan the area, drawn by the commotion of the stirges. They do not swarm without purpose, and they only consume blood, often leaving a carcass behind full of useful materials like scales, or hide, fur or bones. And yet, to the soldier's eyes, there is nothing here which should have drawn the stirges. He narrows his eyes and gives the area beside Dalamus a few test jabs with his weapon, and Dalamus has half a mind to grab the glaive and kill the rider with it, but restrains himself from the opportunity, knowing it would likely anger the lizard. Dalamus ducks under a sweep of the glaive, and the rider relents, spurring his lizard onward.

Anyone else? He thinks sarcastically, glancing down paths and tunnels for potential threats. Bats? Giant centipedes? Cloakers? Bulettes? Gricks? Beholders? No? Dalamus allows himself one long sigh of relief, even if his heart does not agree that he is safe. One is never safe in the Underdark. But he carries on. He has no choice.

Dalamus continues his stealthy trek through the caverns and tunnels, clinging to the shadows, stepping lightly, pausing patiently whenever there is a disturbance. Darkmantles shift on the ceiling, pointing their tentacles to appear as stalactites, biding their time to drop upon unsuspecting prey. He avoids moving directly underneath them.

A small space just off the path provides a place to rest; a small, hollowed out area within the rock wall that has been hollowed out thanks to dripping stalactites. Within the hollow are Bullywug Trumpets, mushrooms that favor moist, dark areas, and whose shape facilitates the collection of water dripping from above. Finally, water...

Finding a boulder with a shallowly concave top, Dalamus reaches into his pouch and pulls out the Rogue's Morsel caps, and begins grinding them against the boulder with a smaller stone. The dry, brown mushrooms crumble under the pressure until he is left with.. well, it is not a powder, but it will have to suffice. He removes a handful of large pieces for good measure.

Taking his dagger, he carves a few pieces of flesh from a Trumpet, and places it among the powdery remains of the Morsels. He then returns to the Trumpets and begins scooping water from them with his hand, bringing the handfuls to the boulder and wetting his ingredients. It is not the cleanest water, but he may not get another chance to create a suspension. He glances out of his hiding place.

Ahead, a couple of Hook Horrors exit their lair, followed close behind by several hatchlings, each a foot tall. One of the small horrors is in the process of shedding its exoskeleton, leaving a trail of white flakes. Instinctually aware of its vulnerability, it remains on the heels of its parents, occasionally bumping into one's leg with a surprised squawk. No doubt the parents are bringing the younglings out to teach them hunting skills. Dalamus will have to wait until the coast is clear to exit. He returns to his task.

With the small stone, Dalamus crushes the flesh of the Trumpet within the Morsel-muddied water, creating an acrid tincture so pungent he has to blink tears away to watch its progress. A small spider crawls up his arm as he works, likely having been disturbed from its place in one of the Trumpets, and Dalamus sees its presence as a sign of encouragement. Lolth smiles upon his ingenuity, his will and ability to survive.

After a thorough grinding, Dalamus is left with a stinking green paste. In a proper alchemical setting, the ingredients can be purified and distilled into a potion of healing, but he does not have the luxury. Scooping up the paste on his fingers, he lifts his bandages just enough to slather his injuries in what should encourage healing. His wounds scream at the intrusion, and Dalamus sets his jaw to prevent any sounds from escaping him. After several long, painful moments, the stinging subsides, and he peers out of his pocket in the wall to check on the Hook Horrors. They are gone.

In their place is a small number of Azmyths flying about, fairly intelligent serpentine bat-like creatures. Not inherently hostile, as their diets mostly consist of plants and insects. Their presence assures Dalamus that the Hook Horrors have indeed moved on, and he must, too.

He exits his hiding place and continues forward, piwafwi hood drawn, passing below the playing Azmyths. With their ability to turn invisible at will, and their telepathic communication, it is likely they can sense Dalamus' presence. He keeps himself calm, and the Azmyths remain calm. A few pass close to him in curiosity, close enough for him to hear their telepathic whispers buzzing against the edges of his mind like static between two layers of fabric, but he cannot understand what they are saying.

Then the buzzing becomes urgent. The wingbeats frantic. Dalamus can feel his heart rate climbing as he readies a dagger to defend himself. It agitates the Azmyths even more, and they begin buffeting him, pushing at him with their bodies and their minds. A wing gets tangled in his hood and it falls, releasing the invisibility magic concealing his form. He slashes at the Azmyth responsible and manages to sever part of its tail as it flies away.

Then, a roar.

The Azmyths disappear up into the ceiling of the cavern, leaving Dalamus alone. He turns towards the sound of heavy footsteps. It is not him which had panicked the Azmyths.

Quaggoths. At least three of them. Seven feet of pure muscle under shaggy white hair, Quaggoths are fearsome beasts with intelligence enough to hunt in groups. Some use weapons, but many prefer to use their teeth and claws. And they really, really hate drow.

Though exhausted, Dalamus breaks into a run, adrenaline supplying him with energy he did not know he still had. But he is at a disadvantage. He does not know the layout this far from the city, he is running blind. His pursuers are well-rested and can run on all fours. He can hear them gaining, and it sounds like his death catching up to him.

The only thing he has going for him is his agility, which he uses at every opportunity, vaulting over barriers, turning corners with speed, climbing, dropping, and yet the Quaggoths do not relent. His lungs and throat feel as though they have caught fire, his heart threatening to burst. His legs betray him and he can feel the muscles start to give out. Not now. Not now, please, he pleads. Pathetic, really, having to beg. As if Lolth would come to the aid of such whimpering.

He is on his own. And he is going to die. The footsteps are getting closer and he cannot run any faster. Soon he will be nothing but nutrients to the inhabitants of the Underdark caverns, assuming the Quaggoths leave anything for others. He can hear the panting of one behind him, can practically feel the moist breath against his neck.

Claws catch his shoulder and throw him to the side, off his feet, and his vision goes white with pain as he lands among stalagmites. Were it not for the lack of blood at his abdomen, he might have assumed impalement. But he is not dead. Not yet.

The Quaggoth is eager to change this. It seems to smile as it lumbers in his direction, teeth prepared to snap his neck, claws itching to tear open his ribcage. It drools in anticipation.

In a last ditch effort to escape, Dalamus closes his eyes and casts Dancing Lights in the direction of the Quaggoth, and the creature roars and brings its meaty hands up to its eyes, shielding them too late from the blinding brightness now filling the cavern.

Dalamus rolls from atop the pointed stones and attempts to make a run for it, but his legs collapse from under him, and his back refuses to support his weight, throbbing as though struck by a Minotaur's club. Out of desperation, he crawls. His eyes are drawn to bright, silvery moths before him, a species he has not seen before. They quickly flutter towards a crevice in the stone wall nearby, one that he might be able to squeeze himself into. The Quaggoths certainly cannot fit, and the Dancing Lights will not last forever. He must move now.

The angry roars behind him spur him to move faster, and he manages to shove himself into the cave wall. Whimpers escape him as he forces himself to stand, to force his legs underneath him and propel him through the tight crevice. He hears the scrabbling of claws and the scraping of stone against stone as the Quaggoths attempt to widen the gap behind him. Dalamus pushes onward, following the faint light of the moths until the crevice opens up into another tunnel.

And he sees light. Not the light of glowing insects, nor the light of luminescent fungus. This is different.

He all but falls out of the wall, catching himself on his palms, and looks up at the exit of the tunnel.

He found it. The surface.

And it is fucking bright.

[To be continued]

#missy writing #strighym backstory #IM DONE. IM NOT WORKING ON IT ANYMORE LKJHSDFG #i have the continuation in my brain already

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frontierallergy · 8 months

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Exploring Oak Allergy: A Comprehensive Guide

Are you curious about the impact of oak pollen on vision-related issues and the broader spectrum of oak allergy symptoms beyond just pollen? Are you interested in understanding pollen food allergy syndrome and the most effective treatment options available? These are common questions encountered by our allergy and asthma specialists. Let's delve into these concerns and address them comprehensively.

The Golden Hues of Oak

While oak trees contribute to the lush greenery of Texas, they can make life challenging for some individuals during the spring allergy season. With over 450 varieties of oak trees and shrubs, these pollen-producing trees are not limited to rural areas; they can be found in urban settings as well. The extensive pollen shed by these trees, carried across vast distances by the wind, makes it nearly impossible to evade these airborne allergens.

Have you ever noticed the yellow dust settling on your car after parking under an oak tree? Within a short span, the sticky yellow residue can accumulate and potentially trigger allergic reactions.

Allergy Season and Recognizable Symptoms

The oak allergy season typically peaks from March to May, with the highest pollen counts observed in March and April. Millions of pollen particles fill the air during this period, wreaking havoc on sinus health. Individuals allergic to oak pollen can mitigate their exposure by monitoring local pollen counts and taking preventive measures.

Commonly reported oak allergy symptoms include sneezing, coughing, runny nose, red or itchy eyes, throat or nasal itchiness, fatigue, and dark circles under the eyes. Ignoring initial symptoms may lead to more severe reactions.

Understanding Pollen Food Allergy Syndrome

If you experience throat or mouth itchiness after consuming raw vegetables or fresh fruits during allergy season, you may be dealing with Pollen Food Allergy Syndrome (PFAS) or Oral Allergy Syndrome (OAS). This syndrome arises because the immune system recognizes proteins in certain fruits and vegetables as similar to oak pollen.

Approximately 25 percent of allergic rhinitis patients also suffer from OAS. To avoid complications, individuals with this syndrome should steer clear of foods that induce mouth itching or tingling, including strawberries, celery, soy, peanuts, carrots, cherries, peaches, hazelnuts, apples, eggs, and chestnuts.

Allergic Conjunctivitis and Vision Problems

Oak pollen can lead to red, itchy, and watery eyes, potentially causing vision problems if left unattended. Allergists recommend antihistamines or allergy eye drops for relief from these symptoms. A thorough examination of your eyes and medical history by an allergist can determine if oak allergy is the underlying cause.

Testing and Diagnosis for Comprehensive Allergy Management

Beyond oak pollen, allergies can be triggered by weed, grass, peanuts, bee stings, pet dander, and mold. Accurate diagnosis is crucial for effective treatment and symptom management. Board-certified allergists, such as Dr. Neha Reshamwala, may recommend tests like skin prick testing, intradermal skin tests, or blood tests to identify specific allergens.

Managing Allergies: Strategies and Treatment Options

Three primary approaches exist for managing allergies:

Exposure Reduction: Avoiding pollen and certain foods known to cause allergies is the first line of defense. Strategies include checking daily pollen counts, keeping doors and windows closed during high pollen periods, going outdoors in the evening, taking a hot shower upon returning home, daily vacuuming, and using dehumidifiers or HEPA filters.

Pharmacological Medications: Allergy medicines and nasal sprays are commonly prescribed to alleviate symptoms.

Allergen Immunotherapy: This involves administering oral drops or shots with small doses of allergens to build resistance over time. Allergy shots can significantly reduce or eliminate symptoms as the immune system develops tolerance to oak pollen.

By adopting these strategies and treatment options, individuals can effectively manage oak allergies, leading to improved overall well-being and reduced allergic reactions over time.

#Skin testing #Pet allergy testing #Blood testing #Patch Testing #Drug allergy testing #Insect sting testing #Oral food challenge #Food allergy testing #Treatments: Biologics #Allergy shots #Traditional immunotherapy #Cluster immunotherapy #Allergy drops (sublingual)#Oak Allergy Testing

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solarpunknow · 5 months

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A weekend in a solarpunk future

Today was quite the busy day- and it was spent almost entirely outdoors.

This morning was the monthly 'get to know the plants around you' meetup. The idea behind this group is that 3 people (This time it was me, A., and C.) who are very familiar with the native plants around here and their uses, as well as the invasive species around here and their uses, lead a group through one of the local parks, and we teach the new comers what we know. We get a lot of people who have just moved to town and aren't yet familiar with the local ecosystems, those who didn't grow up foraging or working with plants, and of course some retirees who are looking to connect with nature in a way that they couldn't during their working lives back in the 2010s and 2020s.

We started by going over plants that get confused by beginners a lot (western bleeding heart vs herb robert, mahonia vs holly, that sort of thing), then moved on to the most common and vigorous native plants, and how each of us uses them in our lives (stinging nettle for tea, pesto, soup, the fiber for cloth, etc). We finish out the meetup by identifying the most... shall we say, vigorous of the invasive plants, and how to safely remove them (I mean, some have sap that can hurt you, so it's good to point those ones out). Some make tasty food, but we discussed how to safely compost the rest of them.

Gotta be honest, turning a problem (invasive species) into a resource (fertilizer) fills me with a sense of satisfaction like no other. C. usually takes the ones that are good for making fertilizer (invasive buttercup, bindweed, Hyacinthoidess, etc); I'll take the English Ivy and Himalayan blackberries home because my pet goats love to eat them. They also love bindweed, but I can share.

Anyway, we show the new folks how to identify and remove them, and then we put their new skills to the test. It's really starting to make a noticeable effect in the areas we visit, and I have to hope that every one we teach keeps practicing on their own.

Of course, removing the invasive species is only one part of the solution, but that's a whole different post.

This afternoon was a work party at the community/foodbank garden, which is always a good time and opportunity to connect with others. Back in the day I would've been confused by what a "community/foodbank" garden was, but honestly, it works. People who can, come and work in the garden and take what they will use for the next week. People who aren't able to donate their physical skills come by the food bank and are able to get the food they'll use in a week. It used to be that people thought there would be too many "takers" and not enough "workers", but it turns out that working in large groups, in close connection with the land, knowing that you're helping not only yourself but others in your community is hugely motivating for a large segment of the population. It's also awesome because the people who run the garden are super passionate about sustainable gardening and figuring out how to make gardening accessible to everyone in the community who wants to, so people feel comfortable coming to learn and then taking the knowledge and skills back to their neighborhood hub/commons gardens. Really, in the past ten years, the number of people who have started incorporating native plants, started mulching, stopped pulling out plants that support native insects, built rainwater and grey water irrigation systems and so on has really blossomed. The city is so much greener (and cooler) than it used to be, both metaphorically and literally.

Speaking of greywater, that's tomorrow's project. This evening is for listening to the chorus frogs and relaxing on the back porch.

#solarpunk fiction #fictional permaculture #fictional gardening

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moodmother · 7 months

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Queen

Rumors spread in the sleepy neighboring town about a strange, deep droning sound in the woods. By the time the weakness in the ventilation system has been identified and fixed, the bees have been located: the hive has taken up in a small abandoned house set well into the forest at the edge of a state park.

"The bees are engineered with a built-in kill switch," Josh tells Jun as they pull up in front of the house. They can already hear the hive: a low, constant rumble in the air. "A specific protein that their bodies don't naturally produce. They need to get it from the feed they give them at the lab. Without it, they might last a few months, tops."

The bees are also stingless. Which is fortunate, because they are also enormous: about the size and shape of paw paw fruit. They are covered in a pale pinky-orange fur, with deep brown stripes and white rumps.

The men need to lure the hive into the back of the truck, then neutralize and bag up any stragglers. A clean-up crew will follow to remove any comb. If they cannot identify and grab the queen to draw the others, they can use a pheromone solution that Josh carries in a dispenser on his belt.

The buzzing grows louder as they walk up to the door, and is almost oppressive as they step inside. Here and there a single bee flies in and out of the broken windows.

"It sounds like they're d--" Josh is cut off as he steps forward and disappears. With a great crash, faster than he or Jun can even cry out, he falls straight down through the rotten floorboards.

"Josh! Are you okay?"

Josh only groans in pain.

"Josh?"

"Unh...my fucking...I think I broke something...."

"Just hold on!! I'll get some help!"

+++

The higher-ups at the lab forbid Jun or his superiors from contacting any emergency services. It is bad enough that the bees escaped in the first place. Their existence is a precious secret. They have been spliced with certain human genes, specifically engineered to produce vast quantities of a special royal jelly. Initial tests of the substance are extremely promising: administered as a supplement, it structurally rejuvenates aging skin and joints, and measurably invigorates the mind. If further refined for medical applications, its potential is endless. They have a genuine cure-all on their hands. No one is to know about the bees until GenCyc and its shareholders can safely profit from them.

+++

Josh has fallen onto the vial of pheromone and coated himself in it. As he rolls on the dirt floor, buffeted by angry bees, he feels something crunch and burst beneath his hip.

After the pain has subsided somewhat, he finds his flashlight. Here is the hive: hundreds of enormous bees swarming in the dark basement, warming the air and deafening him with their great wings.

He grimaces when he sees that the bee he has crushed is pale pink and longer than his palm. The queen.

Amid the insect bodies bouncing against him like tennis balls, he tries to lift himself up and yelps with pain. His wrist is broken. One of his legs is sprained badly enough that it will not support his weight.

Holding the light in his mouth, Josh drags himself to the wall and wriggles up into a sitting position against it. He will wait here for help. Thank goodness the bees do not sting.

Stingless or not, the hive grows more and more agitated. Then, suddenly, they stop flying into him. Instead, all at once, they swam over him in a single wave. He screams but the sound is muffled by their furry bodies. He struggles, tries to flail, but finds that the weight of many hundreds of giant insects is enough to hold his body in place. +++

The proposed course of action is simple: send a handful of employees to quietly extricate Josh. But an unfortunate wrinkle derails even that. The house and the lot are not quite abandoned: the owner is still alive, and has heard tell of trespassers. The police have been advised and have posted a patrol to monitor the turn-off onto the dirt road that leads to the property. GenCyc staff cannot approach without proffering an explanation and attracting an unwanted escort, or without risking discovery if they make an attempt surreptitiously.

Joshua fell, what, maybe six feet? "He's fine," they say. "He'll make his way out on his own. He signed his contract, he knew the risks."

In the meantime, they will regroup and develop a plan for the much more important project of retrieving the bees.

+++

Josh cannot move. The bees have fixed him to the wall with strong wax. They are no longer agitated, but they are busy, building their comb around him...and filling his mouth and throat with honey and royal jelly. At first he gags and tries to spit out the cloying goop, but they are relentless. He has to swallow to avoid choking.

Trapped there in the dark, endlessly fed by the bees, Josh is completely helpless as he feels his body begin to change.

+++

The cover story is that there is a special fungus on the land where the house sits. A rare specimen of significant medical interest. GenCyc is happy to buy the property as-is, sight-unseen. The owner need only name her price.

+++

Josh is so, so heavy. He has swelled like a monstrous fungal bloom against the wall. Billowed in every direction, burst out of his clothes. He can feel the hard-packed dirt of the floor against the underside of his belly.

He is vaguely aware that his body is not only growing but changing shape. His limbs are still slender and have atrophied to uselessness, while the rest of him burgeons into a huge overstuffed sausage, stretching his skin into a slick white membrane.

His hair falls away. His teeth come loose and fall out and he swallows them, and his mouth becomes a drooling pulpy maw, constantly agape. His attendants feed him constantly, keeping him full to bursting with the sweet agent of his transformation.

The matrix of wax is no longer holding his body to the wall, but it has not been necessary for some time. In this new form he could not escape if he tried.

+++

Six months pass before GenCyc can take possession of the property. Too late for the hive, but they will gather whatever is left. Clean up the scene. An expensive setback, but only a setback. A financial hiccup in the larger scheme of things.

Jun is allowed to accompany the recovery team, but is not part of the group that enters the house in white hazmat suits. Marching stiffly back with the team, the project lead, pale and dazed-looking, only says, "Get another truck out here. An empty box truck. Let's...get it back to the lab."

It?

"'It?' What's it?" Jun's voice rises and cracks.

"The...the honeycomb. We can salvage the comb. Come on."

"Another truck?"

"It's a big comb."

Then, wordlessly, arms outstretched to guide him, his colleagues move to usher Jun back toward the vehicles. Away from the house.

"You're lying. What happened? Where's Josh?"

"He's not here. He must've--"

Jun breaks away from the others and runs. They call after him, urging him back. But he jumps up the porch steps, dashes through the caution tape, and pushes his way in through the off-kilter door.

The remaining bees buzz in drunken swoops through the heavy air. The floor is littered with the bodies of the others, most lying on their backs, their bodies curled upward and inward. They look and smell to Jun like rotten fruit. Sickly sweet, faintly fermented.

There is the hole in the floor where Josh fell through the rotten boards. Yawning like a hellmouth.

Jun's voice trembles as he calls out, "Josh?"

Over the sound of those last few bees, Jun can hear something below. The distinct sound of something breathing. A sort of...rustle. An unidentifiably wet sort of sound, as of something shifting or rolling over. Something heavy.

Jun fumbles for his flashlight. He kneels to get a better angle down into the basement.

At the sight of the thing that lies there, heaped up beside pillars of comb and groaning from the shock of the light, Jun screams. He does not remember turning to run out, or stumbling down the front steps. One moment he was peering down through the broken floor, the next he is writhing on his back outside, tended by a handful of fellow employees. Gasping Josh's name over and over and over.

In the years that follow, Jun will bolt awake whenever flashes of what he saw return to him in dreams. A heap of white translucent flesh. Softly segmented, pulsing gently. Sightless milky eyes. Vestigial limbs twitching against the bulk of its hideously elongated body. A grub, a human grub, a grub inflated to unthinkable size. Moaning with the familiar, distorted voice of a man.

+++

The PI and the others confer about how best to safely lift the thing from the basement and transfer it into the truck. Its growth has been tremendous in the intervening months, and it must weigh many, many hundreds of pounds.

The immovable thing that used to be Josh awaits its fate. Unsuspecting, unthinking. Aware only of its vast and growing hunger, and the cold seeping in through the cracked foundation, and the lonely silence left in the absence of its insistent and devoted servants.

#body expansion #body growth #xwg #extreme weight gain #forced fattening #transformation #moodmother

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