genetic anomaly

anonymous asked:

Oh okay, sorry! I have an alien character who was born on an insect planet where the ratio is 90% female and 10% Male. Females are much more colorful than males too. He is a male, but due to a genetic anomaly he has bright colors and although I hate saying this, he looks like a female. I don't know how to address this, but what should I say about his gender? I'm sorry if this is rude too.

Gender is whatever your character feels, it’s separate from sex. If I understand this right, you have a male character, who by genetic anomaly looks like a female. But the key word here is looks. So they have functioning male parts. If the society is anything like ours, they’d be assigned male. So if your character believes they’re a boy, they’d be a boy. But if they say they’re a girl, they’d be a trans girl (if she wants to use the word trans), but a girl nonetheless. And same thing for nonbinary

Please correct/inform me if I’ve said anything wrong.

Edit: Hey guys! Thanks for the comments. I definitely wasn’t thinking wide enough and completely left out the possibility of being intersex. I apologize for that. Though while what I said above still stands, I agree with commenters that this seems more likely. That is if the society does things similar to how we do.

Okay, I wrote and deleted the first post because of my anxiety. I promise I’ll keep this one, but please, PLEASE avoid the anon hate and be civil, okay?

I few years ago I used to watch Dr House. At the end of one of the first episodes, called ‘Paternity’, which I rewatched two months ago for reasons I’m going to explain in a moment, the doctors find out that the patient was adopted. Later, the patient says that he already knew because he has a cleft chin and his parents don’t.

Cleft chins are autosomal dominant traits. Which means, in short, that there is a very, very low probability that a kid can have a cleft chin if neither of his or her parents does, and it usually happens when a genetic anomaly occurs.

In October, I had an eureka moment because I noticed that, in some pictures, F seems to have a cleft chin and I remember that Dr House episode. I say “in some” because sometimes the lighting, angle and filter (for instance, black and white) seem to hide it. Also, F is still very little and the cleft chin would get more prominent as he grows.

Here’s the thing. Here are B and Louis:

They don’t have a cleft chin. Which is… an interesting development.

However, there is someone else, and his family, who does.

Soulmate AU Part 2

Companion piece to this, but with Derek’s backstory now.

As was typical for a werewolf pack, the Hales had a diverse collection of bite marks, animal tracks, and feathers for soulmarks. Supernatural creatures were more likely to bond with other supernatural creatures, which, while useful for supporting the idea that such unusual soulmarks were a genetic anomaly, was not very helpful for hiding one’s supernatural identity from hunters. It was an old hunter’s trick to look for groups of people with unusual soulmarks when on the hunt for anything “mythical.”

Derek was five years old, and he didn’t have a soulmark at all.

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Due to popular demand, I now present to you

marauders-groupie’s Bellarke fic rec!

These are my top 20 faves, in no particular order because that would be impossible. Expect fluff, angst and everything else imaginable.


“The one hundred sent screaming down to Earth are not just juvenile delinquents. They’re genetic anomalies; mutants. Chipped, collared, and completely expendable. But they’re not going down quietly.”

WIP. Canon ‘verse. Definitely one of the most amazing stories I have ever read. Bellarke development is incredible, the plot is intriguing and this fic definitely deals with topics such as survival and trauma in a unique way, plus - this writer’s style is absolutely breathtaking and fits the atmosphere of the fic.


“Clarke’s jaeger goes down on a Thursday.”

Pacific Rim AU. This one is going to stick with you. Its beauty is going to haunt you for the rest of your life because the pain and the joy are tangible, the relationships radiate understanding and honestly, I’m still stuck in this magnificent world full of hurt, comfort and wonder.


“Bellamy and Clarke have known each other almost all their lives. Life got in the way, though, and two of them drifted apart, but when tragedy strikes again and again in a few months, Clarke runs away, and Bellamy, as he always has, runs after her. Picking up Raven for the ride, Bellamy embarks on a day-long road trip adventure chasing Clarke’s trail as she rights wrongs and tries to learn how to cope with life as it is now.”

Childhood friends, modern AU. Let me put this simply - this is real, raw and gripping. We’re talking serious literature here, friends, and that sort that you’ll want to postpone finishing because you want to stick around in that world for a long time. 


“Clarke Griffin is a pragmatist and Bellamy Blake is a fucking romantic.”

Modern AU. This fic takes place before an apocalypse. A meteor is about to hit Earth and Bellamy and Clarke are pining after each other.
Now, wait up! I know you think it’s going to be sad, but this is one of the happiest fics I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading. Trust me on this one. It’s quite literally Earth-shattering.


Clarke Griffin’s first introduction to the industrial town of Mechton is the gruff, harsh Bellamy Blake, and from that ill-fated meeting alone, she can’t imagine how she will begin to call this new place home. Soon, though, she finds that places grow on you, and also that people change, but only if you are willing to let yourself change as well.

North & South AU. The thing is, this fic is so well-researched, the character interactions are amazing, it deals with class and sex-related issues. There is bickering Bellarke and take-no-shit Raven, but that’s not even the best part. No, the best part is that this writer has a unique style that brings the whole story to life, as palpable as the screen you’re reading this on. 


“Fourteen nights that brought royally messed up Clarke Griffin back to life and the one man that made everything right again/ Bellarke modern au Prague-Lourdes-New York and back home.

This fic is poetry and magic. The atmosphere is tender and dreamlike, a bubble threatening to burst any second now, which fits perfectly with the premise - travelling, meeting a stranger to whom you open up to and who changes your life forever. It’s full of beautiful moments that are going to strike a chord deep within your heart (and maybe even break it, only to put it back together right away).


“The au where Bellamy prefers calls to texts and Clarke prefers to make fun of him over outgoing message. Also, they fall in love.”

In this modern AU, Bellarke is told through voicemail and I guarantee that you’re going to laugh out loud, but also clutch at your chest dramatically. One of the best fluffy fics I’ve ever read. 

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HSETAU FACT DUMP ABOUT: THE LALONDE FAMILY!!

The White Queen and her son the White King appeared in the observatory of the Lalonde Mansion while Rose was inside it, talking to John about WV. Since they arrived together and a few days after WV had already landed in John’s house, Rose immediately took them in and introduced them to her mom, who was immediately driven to analyze and study these new alien creatures that just plopped into her house, without questioning a single goddamn thing.

Roxy Lalonde is a microbiologist at the independent research facility known as Skaianet, who focuses on the genetic differences and anomalies in nature. In fact, her discoveries in the field of genetics and cloning have catapulted modern biology ahead by fifty years, and as a result her accolades and fame within her field is matched only by the amount of time she does not have to spend with her daughter. The inclusion of new aliens in her home motivated her to push for a research proposal and she has managed to achieve research permissions within three weeks of their discovery, somehow.

Unfortunately for Rose, Roxy has a lot of work and little vacation time, forcing them to rely on sticky note communication and a war of leaving passive-aggressive gifts for each other. Though after Roxy’s research proposal went through, Roxy spends more time at home… studying WQ and WK’s biology. With such a difficult situation, WK has found himself doing his best to hang out with Rose some more, while WQ focuses on finding a way to get back to Skaia. 

For more information about this AU, visit the HSETAU Sideblog!

Imagine you're a genetic anomaly

Imagine you’re a test subject in a vast genetic research project.  

There’s a gene in you the researchers like. You’re durable. You have survived many tests that other humans didn’t, taken damage and injury and healed quickly and fully. The researchers are trying to multiply such a gene in other species in their control, and they’re doing it by breeding them, all of them, with you.  

You’ve been through this before more times than you can count. In fact, you stopped counting because for the most part, you stopped paying attention. They pull you from your cell, breed you, stick you in an observation block until you give birth, move you to a post-partum unit until the offspring are weaned, then drop you back into your living cell until you’re ready to carry again and they have another sire.  

So, it catches your attention when a tech says they have something new for you in store as he retrieves you and leads you to the breeding labs.  

When you walk through the swinging doors, you’re immediately seized by two more techs and ushered to an examination table. They hoist you onto it and prop your legs apart on extendable stirrups, then proceed to secure you to the table using leather straps around your chest, arms, and neck and a spreader bar latched to your thighs just above your knees.  

You watch as the techs leave the room through doors on the opposite wall, leaving you cold and exposed in the sterile room with only two doctors setting up a table with equipment you can’t see, but know are metal because you can hear it clinking together.  

Finally, the doctors turn their attention to you. Or, rather, they turn their attention to your exposed holes. You, they ignore. You’re but another tool for their projects. All they care about is your parts. They don’t even spare consideration for your comfort as they begin working.  

A choked squawk escapes your throat when you feel a cold metal device forcefully shove its way into you and begin slowly opening, granting the doctors easy access deep inside you. Both doctors stare into your gaping hole, one asking for tools and the other passing them to him. You groan and writhe as much as you can in your restraints to try and ease the burn off them penetrating and stretching your cervix with dull, cold rods until you’re dilated enough to proceed.  

You hear them talk to each other about the procedure, hearing things like ‘evacuate the environment’ and ‘prepare harvested eggs for freezing’ and 'implanting endometrium’. These things mean nothing to you, and you can’t see them work, only feel them as they scrape, scratch, pull, suction, and prod at your insides. You’d be bored, but the techs returned several moments ago with two of their biggest horses: Clydesdale horses, a stallion and a mare. You know the stallion. He was used to sire foals into you many times before. You know the mare, too, as you’ve shared observation cells with her before. You know she produces litters of foals, and ovulates multiple eggs at a time. By the way she and the stallion are acting, you assume she’s doing it now.

You watch as the horses are bred. They secure the mare to iron bars and bracers, then let the stallion have at her. And have at her, he does, several times. Growling, grunting, snorting, hooves smashing against the rubber floors as he rears up and lands on the mare, gnawing on her shoulder as he thrusts into her hard enough to rattle the bars holding her. He goes into her again and again until his seed sprays out of her with each thrust because she’s too over full to hold any more of him. The stallion is then lead away out of the lab as the doctors turn to spread open the mare, and dig around in her, too.  

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but you wake up with a start as you feel a sharp needle prick deep inside you. “Three eggs,” a doctor says, and then he orders the techs to unstrap you and take you to an observation cell.  

After only a few days, you already feel the tell tale signs that the eggs took, and you’re successfully pregnant again. A test after a week confirms it, and you spend the day rubbing your stomach in anticipation of feeling yourself stretching and growing along with the foals you know will come in a few months.  

Two weeks later, you’re taken back to the lab and secured to the table again. Another procedure ends with another three eggs planted in you. Two weeks after that, three more eggs. Impregnated with nine foals, all at different times? This IS new, you think.  

Twenty three weeks later, you’re lying in your cell, rubbing your belly gently. It’s grown so big you can’t sleep even on your back and have to lay on your side all day. You can’t even walk from your nest to your toilet without needing to rest. You spend your days sleeping, eating a special diet, walking short distance, and masturbating to the feeling of your womb stretching to accommodate the growth within, and the sensation of the older foals twitching about your insides. You mostly sleep, though, because the whole process leaves you drained within hours.  

The techs show up at your cell door again. They sit you in a wheelchair and cart you off to another, larger observation cell next to the labs. You’ve never been here before; you don’t know what to do or expect. You feel tense and hug your stomach protectively against your own fear. The fear of what, you aren’t sure.  

Doctors and techs enter an adjacent room separated by a thick glass window, and the lights in both rooms dim.

You begin to relax after a while of nothing happening. As far as you can tell, you’re alone in the dark. It’s silent, save for a soft tapping coming from the ceiling. You can’t tell what’s causing it, but you don’t think it’s anything that should worry you.  

You’re more annoyed than anything, honestly. You’re tired, all of your joints from the ribs down ache from the weight of the foals in your oversized midsection, and you just want to go back to sleep in your nest. You groan in annoyance and effort as you glare at the viewing room and make your way slowly towards the doors, hoping they get the picture.  

You move but a yard or so and freeze. A new sound has started up. Hissing, screeching, rattling, high in pitch and so loud it echos off the walls and makes you fall to your knees, covering your ears. The sound is more muffled by your hands, and it’s low enough now for you to determine the general source. The ceiling!  

You glance up just in time to watch two insect-like creatures fall and land on the floor behind you. You scream and scramble to your feet, but you’re too burdened to move quick enough and before you know it, one of the creatures is on you.  

It pins you down with four of its six legs with two on your ankles and two on your shoulders. The other two legs reach under the third segment of its body and hook under your thighs where your legs meet your groin. It lifts you up off your knees, arms lined with small but long and sharp needle-like spines that dig deep into your muscles.  

For a second, you feel a hot, acidic liquid shoot into your thighs, and then your body goes completely limp.  

You inwardly groan as you can’t even move your eyes away from the reflective surface of the nearby viewing window. You’re stuck watching the scene unfold helplessly.  

The creature on top of you adjusts its posture and you can see it better. Multiple segments on its body, six legs, four membrane wings folded carefully under a shell on its back, head mostly big eyes and antennae, all bright green. You assume its a female from the swollen lower segment, full of lumps you think might be eggs.  

The other creature is similar to the first, but about half her size (though still larger than the stallion that had sired the foals within you), red in color, with spines on all its limbs and underside. Its last segment is mostly translucent on its underside and you can see a fluid sloshing around as it climbs on the back of the female and hooks its spines into her thick exoskeleton shell. A male?  

You don’t have much time to speculate before the feel of two thick, ribbed, slippery appendages shove their way into your hole and inch their way towards your cervix. You can see in the reflection that each insect has a dark purple channel protruding from their last segments, fumbling their way into you.  

They both find your cervix and press and nudge against it and each other as if fighting for the right of first penetration. Your muscles are so relaxed that there’s no resistance when the more rigid appendage finally breeches, but it still burns, stretches, hurts. But you can’t cry, fight or even squirm.  

The smaller, softer appendage joins the other, and together they slip and rummage within you until they stop and gently caress a solid weight. One of your foals, the earlier older ones. A sound almost like a rattling purr sounds from the female and you feel something in her shift and exit her abdomen as it rests against your back.  

Whatever left her body is round, long, squishy, and big. You know, because it stretches your entrance at least three inches wider and slides into you. It presses against your walls hitting every nerve as it surges through your cervix, preceded by a large hot blast of liquid from the male’s softer, smaller appendage. The force of it is enough to jostle the fetuses and cause them to shift.  

Only after two more things moved from the female into you, along side the first, do you understand. These creatures are breeding in you! They’re using you as an incubator! And you can’t do anything about it!  

It takes over an hour for the female to lay twenty-seven eggs in you along side your foals. You don’t know how much liquid the male pumped into you. The weight of the two creatures is significantly less than it was when they climbed on you, all of it now resting in your belly, making you feel close to bursting.  

The female withdraws from you but stays on you until the male withdraws as well. His final parting gift to you is a thick, sticky liquid that fills your channel to the brim. You think it might overflow, but it’s so viscous that it simply bulges into a bubble.  

They retreat to the ceiling again, and the techs move in to retrieve you. You can’t fight because you still can’t move. By the time the techs tuck you into your nest the substance in your hole has thickened into a gummy paste. When the paralytic wears off you try to remove it only to realize it’s stuck there until further notice.  

You notice the eggs begin to harden over the next two weeks. They retain a certain give, like they’re covered in leather. The foals have moved about to accommodate the new occupants, curling their long legs around the masses.  

You’re lying down, rubbing your belly one afternoon when you touch one of the eggs. You see, hear, and feel both inside and out as the egg cracks. You flinch in surprise. It’s enough pressure to cause the other eggs to crack and shift as well. The hatchling wiggle viciously inside you as they escape. Their movements cause the shells to shift downward towards and eventually through your cervix. The gummy gel in your channel hardens to wax loosens, and with a bit of help from your hand, can be wiggled out of you. You notice all the egg shells in it before you toss it away.  

Later in the night you’re awoken by frantic lurching and jolting in your belly. You signal the evening techs and they quickly bring in an ultrasound. They seem unconcerned with what they find: the eggs hatched into large larvae with huge teeth. They’ve used the teeth to chew and bore their way into the three older foals. You panic, because you were so close to birthing them!  

But now you can only whimper as you and the staff watch on the screen, pointing out where the larvae chewed cavities for themselves in the tender, plump bodies of the unborn foals.  

You watch as one of the foals thrashes, kicking wildly against the intruders eating through its stomach and chest. It kicks its last as one of the larvae reaches its heart.  

The staff leaves you alone again. You don’t sleep until the movement in you stops, the larvae well fed for now.  

Eventually, you get used to the extra room in your belly. You press down on where your oldest foals had been, only to feel the area compress in the hollow area. You can feel the larvae wiggle when you disturb them when you do so.  

It doesn’t take long for the emptiness to be filled with the larvae growing from their meal.  

Two weeks pass by without incident. During the night somewhere in the second week, you feel the process start again. Something hard shifts and cracks in your belly. With your hand on the area, you can feel the larvae thrashing to break free of something. It can’t be eggs, you think, because they already hatched. You figure they must have molted. There’s something new with them this time. Something sharp and long. You feel it scrape against the inside of your womb when they move about your swollen abdomen.  

Only hours later, the thrashing of hatching is replaced by the frantic sensation of kicking, bucking, struggling, writhing. They’ve found the oldest of the remaining foals and have begun tearing into the tender flesh. It doesn’t take but minutes this time for the feeding frenzy to die down. You fall back asleep to the feeling of the larvae latching on to your inner walls with what feel like tiny claws. By the time you wake up, their shells have grown and hardened and you can feel each individual one through the skin on your stomach stretched thin over the new sudden growths.  

You’re masturbating idly the next time they hatch out of their old skins. The angle you’re resting at against the wall so you can reach around your belly to your crotch, allows you to watch as your stomach ripples with each hatching larvae. You count just under thirty, watching as they move about with their new limbs and bigger bodies. You don’t feel the foals struggle as they’re devoured. The larvae have grown too big for the kicking to reach you. All you feel is the fumbling and wrestling of the larvae as they feed around each other. You sigh in delight and orgasm four, five times before they settle in to grow another molt, your stomach stretching even further to accommodate the bigger shells growing inside.  

A month later, you’re taken into the lab again and secured down onto a table. The doctors begin carefully and slowly spreading you open, stretching you past the point of painful. You bite down on a leather strap placed in your mouth as they work to open you as far as you think you possibly could be without splitting in two.  

For s moment you’re distracted by two Clydesdale foals on the other side of the room. You hadn’t noticed them before. You’re not sure how old they are. They’re very young, young enough to still have an interest in the bottles being offered but old enough to nip at each other playfully until the techs administer a sedative to each one, and they give in to it. The foals are each wrapped in some slick membrane and a long plastic tube is inserted down their throats. They are then hoisted onto tables, doused in s thick, slippery fluid, and rolled over to the doctors.  

You can’t see over your belly, so you don’t know what they’re doing. All of a sudden you feel a hard, wet pressure against your entrance. It has lips, hair, and flesh. Two doctors and four techs are working together to push something into you. You scream in shock and pain when the start pops into you, and you feel the large head off the foal enter you. Something cold and metallic is secured to your clitoris and turned on. The harsh vibrations send you crashing over the edge again and again. The resulting contractions and up-sucking force of the orgasm onslaught makes the process easier.  

With one long hard shove, the foal’s head rushes through your cervix. The neck follows, then the shoulders, and eventually the hips and feet. All that remains is the long plastic tube leading out of you and connecting to an oxygen concentrator.  

You hardly have time to catch your breath before they start pressing in the second foal. It’s a little easier this time, though they have to stop every few minutes and straighten out the two tubes to keep them from tangling. The added sensation brings more orgasms until you’re out of your own mind.  

At the end, you’re left on the table, alone. The sedative wears off, and the foals in you panic and begin to react accordingly. Their movement triggers the molting of the larvae. Through your skin, you can hear gurgling, hissing, and growling. The kicking off these post-birth foals is enough to leave nearly instant hoof-shaped bruises on your belly. As before, though, all of it settles down. Several hours later, the two plastic tubes slide out of you and land with a wet slap on the floor.  

You’re left on the table for the rest of the final week.  

Your labor comes suddenly without warning. No techs or doctors are brave enough to enter the room with the creatures ready to crawl out of your womb, so you’re simply in there, alone, to push out what you’ve been incubating for months.  

Luckily for you, it seems they do most of the work. Between your contractions, they crawl along with only their two knuckles exposed, dragging their shell through your entrance. The shells are compressed, making the creatures as small as possible, but as the first one reaches the end of your canal and slides out of the shell, you can tell they’re still nearly half your size each.  

The shells are too fragile to last in the air outside of you, so it gets stuck. It seems this is part of the process. The newly born creature cleans itself off, then turns to you, carefully nibbling away at its shell. Every so often, it digs its claws deep into you to pull it forward until it’s devoured out of you. Immediately, the next one begins working its way to freedom. The first born seeks out your overly swollen breast and attaches itself to your leaking nipple until its younger sibling finishes its own shell, and seeks out a nipple for its turn to drink. The first abandons you and curls up to rest against the wall.  

Each birth takes two or three hours. You catch naps between births, which you value greatly about the thirteenth hour of birthing.  

Nearly three days later, you lie exhausted and depleted on the table, surrounded by your twenty seven offspring that look every bit like their parents. You smile proudly to yourself for having gotten through all that. You’re glad it’s over and done.  

The creatures are soon lured into an adjacent room. When they’re all gone, the techs enter to fetch you.  

“That went well,” one said, patting your stretched stomach fondly. “They’re pleased with your performance. Looks like you’ll be doing this again next year.”

You have to say, you’re not sure you can wait that long.  

anonymous asked:

I live vicariously through your bitterness

thank you… usually I can reel it in and kind of control my sodium intake but there’s only so much I can take. and tbh, being informed about people’s genetic beard anomalies in a condescending manner over a joke is about my limit

Cat Play

Summary: Phil’s a neko and is nervous about telling Dan.

Warning: neko!Phil, bottom!Phil, top!Dan, Language, Smut

Word Count: 1,690

A/N: I’m defining neko as a human with cat tail and ears.

Ao3

Fanfic Masterlist


Phil is harboring a secret. He takes great precaution to make sure his secret is safe. He wears baggy clothes and a beanie whenever he has to leave the house. That way he can ensure that his tail and ears stay hidden.

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Gertrude the Nerdy Princess Headcanon (bc I’m obsessed)
  • She looks like America (red hair, blue eyes) so she’s the genetic anomaly of her family
  • She’s super good at math and she loves it, which is funny because Eadlyn’s the exact opposite
  • She has Eadlyn’s sass, so when she’s 9 years old she’s like “mommy why is Uncle Ahren good at math but you’re not?”
  • They reach a point where Gertrude’s so much better at math than Eadlyn that when Eadlyn’s doing budgeting she asks help from Gertrude and calls it “practice” for Gertrude
  • Gertrude read War and Peace in 3 days
  • But she loves YA novels as much as she loves classics (yes it includes Harry Potter and Twilight)
  • She’s also a theater nerd, and she’s equally dramatic (just like her mother and her grandmother)
  • She wants to play basically every instrument known to man, but she’s only mastered 8 so far
  • She has no experience with boys whatsoever and she hasn’t even had her first kiss
  • The most experience she’s had that’s remotely romantic is dancing with other princes but that only lasts for like 3 minutes because she’s a horrible dancer
  • She speaks 7 languages: English, Spanish, French, Italian, German, Finnish, and Chinese (all dialects, which she learned for fun)
  • She’s a perfectionist and an overachiever (obviously)
  • Which can lead to her being kinda judgmental and critical of other people
  • She joins the Illéa Mathletes Competition and she gets her Angeles team to nationals and they win. Their team is then picked to represent Illéa and they do the international championship
  • She kinda has a thing with Arnold on her team, and they have a common mortal enemy: Andrew Prescott from England who has the same IQ as Gertie’s
  • Something happens and Gertie’s now into Andrew and Arnold…

Make me stoooooooooooop

SHHHHH

Rating: M

Work Count: 1.8 k

 Tags: Library, School AU, Smut, cute? 

A/N - I don’t even know… I’m just feeling like this… (please excuse spelling errors)

_________________

“Shh—SHHHH”
“ya— stop laughing (y/n)— shh-shhhh”

The sounds of your hushed whispers and concealed giggles stayed hidden within the books towering in school library. Two bodies stayed in constant reach of each other, stealing skin and smiling like buffoons. All thanks to Jungkook.

“Shhh—kookie—shhhhhh!!”


Earlier in Math Class:

A small ripped up piece of paper poked the surface of your arm as you stared at the board absent minded. Bringing you back to reality, you looked down to see the scribbles of your boyfriend.

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2

Jethro is one of the Gennys from LYRA. He is a class 5 genny which means that his mutation is both very physical and very deadly.

Jethro possesses a full body mutation, making his skin grow with the purpose and texture of various carnivorous plants, including sun dew and venus fly trap. The digestive acids, however, are much more caustic on Jethro, which means it is impossible for anyone to touch him without significant protection.

He plays a huge part in Jericho’s story, as they have a quasi friendship. (Jeri has a very hard time accepting that people like him, and generally pushes people away, he might not admit to himself that Jethro is his friend.)

He is very shy but eager to make friends, he is a bit closed off from everyone as he cannot touch anyone. He likes to read and to care for his plants, but he really wants companionship. Jericho is one of the only people who can be in the same room as him and they can both be off their medicine and still be fine. 

They are Hazmat Buddies!

A regular courgette, but with three stems instead of one. I will see if i can take seeds. Hopefully plants next year will also have three stems. You could also sow three plant of course, which would give a bigger crop. but the courgettes on this one don’t grow as fast as on the plants with one stem so you don’t end up with so much marrows, which are, let’s be fair, not really tasty.

Ford can disregard Stanley’s worth all he wants, but the truth of the matter IS that without Stanley, he most likely would never have had the drive or confidence to look at his twelve fingers, his genetic anomaly, and and decide to make something amazing of it. A Stanford without a Stanley to reassure him with a HIGH-SIX, that there was nothing wrong with him for being different, very well may have never decided to use what made him special to fuel his curiosity, to investigate the strange, to write those journals, or build the portal.

Hell, a Stanford without a Stanley to stand up for him may have begged his parents to have those extra fingers removed. To get rid of what marked him as different in order to save himself from facing the teasing and the ridicule alone. 

The storm caller

When Six had joined in the search for her lab sibling no one could find Seven no matter how much they tried. The only clue they had found was the Cobalion’s tracks in the burned remnants of the forest mixed in with Seven’s footprints as their fight dragged them deeper into the forest until they suddenly vanished. The only ‘technical’ witnesses were Catherine and another ranger but they had gotten tied down to a tree by some nets and by the time Eris had snapped the ropes the commotion had been long gone.

With this new alarming set of news Julius decided that now was the time to be cautious. The news of Beryl possibly being alive and wanting to capture some corrupted pokemon was far too serious to overlook. So for the next few weeks the entirety of the ranger force on the region and a few overseas were on high alert of Beryl if she truly was alive. Six’s suggestions didn’t make anything sound better either since Seven was a genetic anomaly just like she was and believed that ‘Beryl’ might find a way to create some shadows if she figured that out.

With all this bad news surrounding the rangers Six didn’t feel very good either. Even if this wasn’t the same beryl who tortured her and forced her to do terrible things the memories plagued her once more. The most recent weren’t the best either since the woman could have possibly killed off her entire family by the time she found them… but for now she would pretend to ignore those memories.

Hearing Sandokan let out a protest Six turned around to spot him flailing a bit oddly as his fur kept him afloat in the nearby pool. It seemed like Eight had landed on his back briefly as he then took off to land on a table with an unguarded box of pastries. 

As expected most of the pokemon were hanging out near the pool for the day since it seemed to be getting pretty hot lately. It was believed that the latest forest fire along with some fierce storms off to the coastal areas of the region was creating a bit of a weather anomaly. Six just hoped these storms would end soon since she wanted to check out a place Catherine had suggested that would make a good lair for her family. Hopefully if she was right and the storm was over she would finally have an official new home.

@aurasensitivescholar