#Telephone-pole Beetle

[revretch]

Trick or treat!

Have a diagram of the bizarre life cycle of the telephone-pole beetle, where adults can only be created by artificially heating pupae, and the young burst out of female larvae!

Source: https://www.nature.com/articles/srep27364

[biboocat]

Let me tell you about winds.

"There is a whirlwind in southern Morocco, the aajej, against which the fellahin defend themselves with knives. There is the africo, which has at times reached into the city of Rome. The alm, a fall wind out of Yugoslavia. The arifi, also christened aref or rifi, which scorches with numerous tongues. These are permanent winds that live in the present tense. There are other, less constant winds that change direction, that can knock down horse and rider and realign themselves anticlockwise. The bist roz leaps into Afghanistan for 170 days--burying villages. There is the hot, dry ghibli from Tunis, which rolls and rolls and produces a nervous condition. The haboob--a Sudan dust storm that dresses in bright yellow walls a thousand metres high and is followed by rain. The harmattan, which blows and eventually drowns itself into the Atlantic. Imbat, a sea breeze in North Africa. Some winds that just sigh towards the sky. Night dust storms that come with the cold. The khamsin, a dust in Egypt from March to May, named after the Arabic word for 'fifty,' blooming for fifty days--the ninth plague of Egypt. The datoo out of Gibraltar, which carries fragrance. There is also the ------, the secret wind of the desert, whose name was erased by a king after his son died within it. And the nafhat--a blast out of Arabia. The mezzar-ifoullousen--a violent and cold southwesterly known to Berbers as 'that which plucks the fowls.' The beshabar, a black and dry northeasterly out of the Caucasus, 'black wind.' The Samiel from Turkey, 'poison and wind,' used often in battle. As well as the other 'poison winds,' the simoom, of North Africa, and the solano, whose dust plucks off rare petals, causing giddiness. Other, private winds. Travelling along the ground like a flood. Blasting off paint, throwing down telephone poles, transporting stones and statue heads. The harmattan blows across the Sahara filled with red dust, dust as fire, as flour, entering and coagulating in the locks of rifles. Mariners called this red wind the 'sea of darkness.' Red sand fogs out of the Sahara were deposited as far north as Cornwall and Devon, producing showers of mud so great this was also mistaken for blood. 'Blood rains were widely reported in Portugal and Spain in 1901.' There are always millions of tons of dust in the air, just as there are millions of cubes of air in the earth and more living flesh in the soil (worms, beetles, underground creatures) than there is grazing and existing on it. Herodotus records the death of various armies engulfed in the simoom who were never seen again. One nation was 'so enraged by this evil wind that they declared war on it and marched out in full battle array, only to be rapidly and completely interred."

- The English Patient, Michael Ondaatje

[elementalgod-aj]

Anthro Allies Remastered (Part 10)

Now the Third and Final Part of the Arthropods

Endoterygota

Emorrossa (Insect Queen)

Lord Hexagath (Insect King)

Sawfly

Buzza (Sawfly)

Team 

Stem sawfly

Horntail

Cedar wood wasp

Webbed Leaf

Xyelid

Megalodontes

Parasitic Wasps

Crimson the Abominable (Thistledown velvet ant)

The Hoard

P. Wood wasp 

Sirex Woodwasp

Ichneumon Wasp 

Gall wasp

Chalcid Wasp

Fairy wasp

Ensign Wasp

Crowned Wasp

Cuckoo wasp (Emerald wasp)

Velvet Ant (Cow killer)

Spider Wasp (Tarantula Hawk)

Tiphiid wasp

Scoliid wasp 

Mammoth Wasp

Cockroach wasp (Jewel Wasp)

Sand digger wasp

Cicada Killers

Ant hunter wasp

Bee wolf 

Aphid wasp

Eusocial Wasp

Queen Assaut

King Vespa

Prince Axe

Princess Strike

Warriors

Hornets

Yellow jackets

European wasps

Paper Wasps

Executioner wasps

Warrior wasps

Potter wasps

Hover wasps

Pollen wasps

Honey Wasp

Ants

Queen Amber

King Ore 

Prince Beryl

Princess Siafu

Special Forces

Acrobat Ant, Dracula Ant, Exploding Ant, Mafia Ant, Shining Guest Ant, Sugar Ant

Colony

Black Ants (Garden worker), Red Ants (forager worker)

Argentine Ants (Warrior), Erratic Ants (sun workers), Needle Ant (Warrior), Ghost Ant (Scout), Stink Ants (aphid and caterpillar farmer), cone ant (pest control)

Eciton Ants (Generals/Tanks), Driver Ants (Army)

Trap Jaw Ants (Trappers), Dinosaur Ants (Moon Worshippers)

Diving Ant (Swimmer), Honey Pot Ants (Food dealers), Crazy Ants (Wild cards), Amazon Ants (Raider), Carpenter Ants (Builders), Tree Ants (Warriors), Hodor Ant (Bouncer),  Giant forest ants (gladiators)

Leaf Cutter Ants (Builders), Weaver Ants (handmaidens and caretakers), Lemon Ants (mushroom growers), Pharaoh Ants (communication), Harvester Ants (harvesters), Pirate Ants (rogues), Raider Ants (raider), Electric ants (warriors), Fire Ants (Warriors), Big headed ants (Guard)

Bees

Queen Apidae

King Apo

Prince Kyle

Princess Pollen

Bee Hive

Dwarf/Asian Honey bee, Giant/European Honey Bee, Dog Bee, Sugar Bag bee (Honey makers), Carpenter bee (Builders), Bumblebee (Nectar collector),  orchid bee (Flower manager), Sweat Bee (workers), Long horned Bees (Workers), Digger Bees (nest builders), Mining Bees (Mining and Excavation)

Plasterer bee (builder), Polyester bee (cloth maker)

Carder bee (Collectors), Leafcutter bee( (Weaver), Mason bee (molder), Wallace giant Bee (blacksmith)

Pantaloon Bee (Guards)

Australian Bee (soldiers)

Daniel and Lyon (lacewing & antlion)

Xan (Snakefly)

Zip(Alderfly)

Grounder (Ground beetles)

Live wire (Telephone pole beetle)

Knock Knock (Deathwatch beetle)

Lucky (Ladybug)

Lumi-Nate (Firefly)

Adorn (Jewel beetle)

IronShell/Ira (Horned Scarab beetle)

Horns (Stag Beetle)

George Schmutz (Dung beetle)

Red Rover (Rove beetle)

Ballin (Boll weevil)

Waxer (Giraffe Weevil)

Twist (Stylops)

Twiddle (Stylops)

Harleigh (Butterfly/Moth)

Eugene (Monarch Butterfly)

Genevieve (Silk Moth)

Cassidy (Caddisfly)

Bethany (House/Horse Fly)

Pesky (Gnat/Midge) 

Zika (Mosquito)

Rome (Hover/Robber/Crane fly)

Sting (Scorpionflies)

Ichor (Fleas)

Previous/Next

(For More Information About The Earthdemons, Neo demons, The Anthro allies , the O'Kong family and more of theses characters as well as updates please visit the @the-earthdemon-hub for more)

[entei]

hi i have been thinking about this beetle for days maybe someone will understand

the telephone pole beetle has lost its ability to pupate and instead reproduces exclusively through parthenogenesis (basically cloning)

(diagram: m. alejandra perotti, daniel k. young & henk r. braig)

well, they CAN pupate, but only after undergoing such extreme heat that kills 90% of larva that experience it. the adult beetle form is purely vestigial and cannot reproduce. male individuals are just as rare and also eat their mothers from the inside out upon hatching, if it wasnt weird enough already.

can youimagine metamorphosing on accident. what. whats wrong with this thing

[grandma-kei]

The most jarring thing in recent years besides the annual fires, biblical downpours, and triple digit summers is the lack of birds and bugs that once came with the seasons. I used to see robins hopping on the lawn in spring, the odd scrub jay in summer, and woodpeckers hammering on the nearby telephone poles during warm mornings. We used to have GRASS in the backyard where I’d find ladybugs, grasshoppers, and a frog once. So many boxelder beetles clung to the sides of our house and laid their red orange eggs on the stucco.

I haven’t seen any one of these creatures in years now. I haven’t seen or heard a woodpecker since I was a kid. The displaced skunks have filled in for the raccoons and possums that used to clamber along the fences. Our house was old so we only had screen doors, open windows, and floor fans to keep us cool in the summer. I think 90F was the usual high end with 100+ days being noteworthy anomalies. Now it’s just expected to have a few 100F days every month of summer. And the heat persists through Fall too albeit in waves. We’re supposed to get a spike to 90F NEXT WEEK, two weeks from October. Personal tragedies aside, the holidays haven’t felt “right” for ages now and I feel bad for the kids who’ll never get to experience them the same way.

[someone-s]

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Silky

Debut: Wario Land 3

Look at this larva go! It is a very happy larva. It is happy to be a larva! I don’t know the feeling of being a larva, but I do not doubt it would be something to be happy about. Time as a larva should be treasured, as it does not last forever. Unless you’re a telephone pole beetle, where under normal circumstances your larval form will last your entire life! But we are not all that lucky.

Silk is the name of the game and also the name of the larva here! Silky just crawls back and forth. It loves to crawl.

It crawls leisurely, in fact!

When Silky sees Wario, though, the leisure ends. The shenanigans begin. Most caterpillars would be using their silk to make a cocoon, but not this one! This one is reckless! And doesn’t care if it’s wasting silk and perhaps dooming itself to pupate out in the open. It would rather cover some unsuspecting bozo in silk instead!

Wario, of course, is that bozo. Wario is long done with metamorphosis, so being covered in silk just turns him into Ball o’ String Wario and sends him rolling away and bouncing off of walls. There is a benefit for Wario, however! There are some blocks that can only be destroyed by Wario rolling into them while encased in silk from a caterpillar. That is incredibly specific! Surely that has baffled scientists of this world for many years! Maybe any substance in real life can be instantly destroyed by a very particular silly thing that nobody knows about!

Silky is just so happy to cause a ruckus. On the topic of funny uses of larva silk, I would like to bring up my personal favorite! Weaver ants are named after the fact that they weave together leaves to create a nest, and what ultimately holds these nests together is silk, applied from an ant using a larva like a living glue gun! It is so funny to me that they use a larva basically as a tool like that, but it is certainly very efficient.

As this is a Wario Land 3 enemy, the more detailed sprites and screenshot earlier in the post are from Dr. Mario 64, of course, the game that made Wario Land 3 enemies prominent and playable characters! I regret to inform you that Silky’s nice leisurely crawl was interrupted by Wario, and it then attacks Dr. Mario out of fear. It attacks him by starting a round of competitive Dr. Mario, since that is how conflict resolution works in competitive puzzle games. Do not underestimate even the most unassuming bug you see, as it may be brilliant enough to know how to destroy viruses with pills at a moment’s notice!

What more could you ask for in a creature?

(Credit to Ragey for ripping the Dr. Mario 64 sprites, and to ShyGuyXXL for ripping the Wario Land 3 sprites!)

[king-carnivore]

For anyone who has a hard time understanding how long this is, 36 feet is as long/tall as:

a telephone pole

an average sized humpback whale

a school bus

3 elephants stacked on top of each other

2 and a half Volkswagen beetles

IT'S FINALLY HERE! The true full size of my "do you love the colour of the sky HD remake director's cut" tumblr post

This ended up being 2 3/4 inches wide by 36 FEET LONG. 

The 2 3/4 inch width was chosen because that's the same width as a pretty average phone screen, and I wanted to know how physically far you have to scroll to get past this post.

also dont tell my boss that I got into the art gallery before we opened just to set up this rainbow CVS receipt looking motherfucker. in my defense i literally couldn't find any other location that was long enough to show this off

Please consider subscribing to my Patreon to gain access to my original content a week before its posted on tumblr!

[sherrylephotography]

Sherrylephotography: A picture I took while I was out for a walk.

Kestrels are the smallest and most common falcon in North America and are often incorrectly called “sparrow hawks.” They have the long, swept back wings that are typical of falcons, allowing them to be very maneuverable in the air. In the wild, they will eat snakes, lizards, bats, smaller birds, mice, voles, and insects such as beetles, grasshoppers, cicadas and dragonflies. They like exposed perches such as telephone poles, wires, fence posts, and dead branches on trees. They are swift, erratic fliers, and in  a flat flight they may travel at up to 39 mph, and can dive at speeds up to 60 mph. They pump their tails and bob their heads while perched. Kestrels are capable of hovering when hunting, and this behavior is frequently seen over highway medians.

I

[zahut]

“There is a whirlwind in southern Morocco, the aajej, against which the fellahin defend themselves with knives. There is the africo, which has at times reached into the city of Rome. The alm, a fall wind out of Yugoslavia. The arifi, also christened aref or rifi, which scorches with numerous tongues. These are permanent winds that live in the present tense. There are other, less constant winds that change direction, that can knock down horse and rider and realign themselves anticlockwise. The bist roz leaps into Afghanistan for 170 days–burying villages. There is the hot, dry ghibli from Tunis, which rolls and rolls and produces a nervous condition. The haboob–a Sudan dust storm that dresses in bright yellow walls a thousand metres high and is followed by rain. The harmattan, which blows and eventually drowns itself into the Atlantic. Imbat, a sea breeze in North Africa. Some winds that just sigh towards the sky. Night dust storms that come with the cold. The khamsin, a dust in Egypt from March to May, named after the Arabic word for ‘fifty,’ blooming for fifty days–the ninth plague of Egypt. The datoo out of Gibraltar, which carries fragrance. There is also the secret wind of the desert, whose name was erased by a king after his son died within it. And the nafhat–a blast out of Arabia. The mezzar-ifoullousen–a violent and cold southwesterly known to Berbers as 'that which plucks the fowls.’ The beshabar, a black and dry northeasterly out of the Caucasus, 'black wind.’ The Samiel from Turkey, 'poison and wind,’ used often in battle. As well as the other 'poison winds,’ the simoom, of North Africa, and the solano, whose dust plucks off rare petals, causing giddiness. Other, private winds. Travelling along the ground like a flood. Blasting off paint, throwing down telephone poles, transporting stones and statue heads. The harmattan blows across the Sahara filled with red dust, dust as fire, as flour, entering and coagulating in the locks of rifles. Mariners called this red wind the 'sea of darkness.’ Red sand fogs out of the Sahara were deposited as far north as Cornwall and Devon, producing showers of mud so great this was also mistaken for blood. 'Blood rains were widely reported in Portugal and Spain in 1901.’ There are always millions of tons of dust in the air, just as there are millions of cubes of air in the earth and more living flesh in the soil (worms, beetles, underground creatures) than there is grazing and existing on it. Herodotus records the death of various armies engulfed in the simoom who were never seen again. One nation was 'so enraged by this evil wind that they declared war on it and marched out in full battle array, only to be rapidly and completely interred.”

— Michael Ondaatje

[tsunflowers]

the stupid monster climbed up this telephone pole bc it's a rhinoceros beetle

[underthehedge]

Hrmm, well there's plenty to choose from but I'm going to go with the lifecycles of the telephone-pole beetle, Micromalthus debilis. They're a tiny little beetle, the larvae of which live in rotting hardwood and are rarely seen because only the adults leave the wood and most of them never become adults. Why? Well because they do things weird.

Almost every single larva is female, and after two moults becomes reproductively mature, while still a larva. These give live birth to more female larvae through parthenogenesis. That's it, they're larvae that give birth to more larvae, all female parthenogenic species of insect aren't exactly super uncommon though. However, while larviform adult females are kinda common in beetles, these are not that, they're straight up larvae, no pupation involved.

Things change though when you turn up the heat. See, when conditions get way too hot most of them will die, however some of the second instar larvae, instead of turning into reproductive larvae, pupate and turn into adult female beetles. Some of the reproductive third instar larvae though produce an egg, which they do not lay nor give live birth to. Instead this develops inside her and eats her from the inside out, before pupating and becoming an adult male.

This in itself is weird but still not exactly unheard of in insects, the little freaks. Nah where this gets weird as shit is that, as far as we can tell, this is an error that shouldn't happen anymore. Because, at least according to the one paper that really studied this (though I've a few thoughts in the read more), these adults are broken. They hatch out, leave the log, mate and...oh that's it. They're not actually able to breed. They show mating behaviours, complex mate competition and choice, dispersal behaviour as you might expect, but these adults don't actually have functioning reproductive organs. The males are not capable of fertilising anything, the females do not produce eggs.

They're evolutionary ghosts, a remnant of a past when under conditions of stress they could produce adults that left the log, mated and colonised new wood.

Ok so I do have a few doubts about the paper. As far as I can tell there's never been any successful adult reproduction recorded in these, however, the only paper I've seen that did it used a few colonies collected from a small area in the very north of their range. They used high heats that caused the vast majority of the colonies to die off to trigger the development of adults, which came out reproductively unviable.

So while we don't have any evidence for functional sexual reproduction in these beetles, at the same time they've got a pretty large natural range that stretches across the Eastern United States. The heat treatment involved in triggering the production of adults far exceeded the highest maximum temperatures in the locations they were collected from. Excessive heat is known to cause developmental fertility issues in insects. Beyond that, range edge populations may be more likely to show aberrant reproductive modes, e.g. exclusive parthenogenesis.

I'm not saying the study is wrong, but I would say it would be better redone using colonies collected from multiple locations across the range, as well as attempting to induce production of adults through other stressors, such as starvation - they're dead wood eaters, and the larvae have poor dispersal ability, it's at least plausible that the production of highly mobile adults that can colonise more distant patches could be triggered not just by adverse temperatures and drying of the wood, but by food limitation indicating that the log may be running out. Simply put, I am not wholly convinced that the source population used in the study is necessarily representative of the whole species, nor that the production of only non-reproductively-viable "ghost adults" isn't an artefact caused by baking them at 55C (~10-15 degrees above the record high for the area...) for a couple of months.

Adult beetles are none the less rarely recorded in nature, but they're like 1.5-2.5mm long and skinny little things that appear to live only a few days and likely spend that time mating and then trying to find a suitable log to hide in. If functional adults are being produced in parts of their range and they're undergoing normal sexual reproduction, it wouldn't be shocking if they're still not recorded often.

hello

pls tell me your most fucked up bug fact pleasethanks

[thinkingreadingtree]

Let me tell you about winds

"There is a whirlwind in southern Morocco, the aajej, against which the fellahin defend themselves with knives. There is the africo, which has at times reached into the city of Rome. The alm, a fall wind out of Yugoslavia. The arifi, also christened aref or rifi, which scorches with numerous tongues. These are permanent winds that live in the present tense. There are other, less constant winds that change direction, that can knock down horse and rider and realign themselves anticlockwise. The bist roz leaps into Afghanistan for 170 days--burying villages. There is the hot, dry ghibli from Tunis, which rolls and rolls and produces a nervous condition. The haboob--a Sudan dust storm that dresses in bright yellow walls a thousand metres high and is followed by rain. The harmattan, which blows and eventually drowns itself into the Atlantic. Imbat, a sea breeze in North Africa. Some winds that just sigh towards the sky. Night dust storms that come with the cold. The khamsin, a dust in Egypt from March to May, named after the Arabic word for 'fifty,' blooming for fifty days--the ninth plague of Egypt. The datoo out of Gibraltar, which carries fragrance. There is also the ------, the secret wind of the desert, whose name was erased by a king after his son died within it. And the nafhat--a blast out of Arabia. The mezzar-ifoullousen--a violent and cold southwesterly known to Berbers as 'that which plucks the fowls.' The beshabar, a black and dry northeasterly out of the Caucasus, 'black wind.' The Samiel from Turkey, 'poison and wind,' used often in battle. As well as the other 'poison winds,' the simoom, of North Africa, and the solano, whose dust plucks off rare petals, causing giddiness. Other, private winds. Travelling along the ground like a flood. Blasting off paint, throwing down telephone poles, transporting stones and statue heads. The harmattan blows across the Sahara filled with red dust, dust as fire, as flour, entering and coagulating in the locks of rifles. Mariners called this red wind the 'sea of darkness.' Red sand fogs out of the Sahara were deposited as far north as Cornwall and Devon, producing showers of mud so great this was also mistaken for blood. 'Blood rains were widely reported in Portugal and Spain in 1901.' There are always millions of tons of dust in the air, just as there are millions of cubes of air in the earth and more living flesh in the soil (worms, beetles, underground creatures) than there is grazing and existing on it. Herodotus records the death of various armies engulfed in the simoom who were never seen again. One nation was 'so enraged by this evil wind that they declared war on it and marched out in full battle array, only to be rapidly and completely interred."

[lowat-golden-tower]

I sent one like this to another but now I want your take with my other favourite ship! So here we go- Roman is smitten with his flatmate Virgil so he tries to summon a demon at the crossroads to make a deal so Virgil will fall in love with him. But the demon that's summoned ends up being his flatmate and hoo boy this is awkward!

(I saw the other prompt you sent to @secretglittersauce and specifically didn’t read it so as not to be influenced. XD Too bad you specified Virgil as the demon, I was leaning more towards Roman for shits and giggles… but now you get Southern!Roman, so there’s that. :D

This took me like fifty years, and wound up way too long, but I hope you enjoy it @fangirltothefullest! I might do one with demon!Patton and Logan as a follow up, if you’re interested?)

Honestly, Roman wasn’t entirely sure this would work. According to folklore, one could summon a demon at a crossroads to broker a supernatural deal. It was a legend spinning around the South for decades, sung in the Blues and whispered between old men in rocking chairs on front porches and store stoops. Hell, Roman had heard it from his own next door neighbor as a mere child. The man, a retired musician and one of young Roman’s many inspirations, used to tell all kinds of stories and fables. Really, it became evident in Roman’s later years that he’d just wanted someone to talk to, or listen.One of those tales had been about the crossroads, and his own experiences with chatting up a demon for a foothold in the music business. Roman had been positively dazzled, though his mother had warned him not to believe in such “nonsense.” She especially warned him not to go wandering about intersections in search of some monster or spirit; that he could pave his own path to his desires.

He really never gave her enough credit. Her advice had pushed him through to adulthood, to where he was now, just the star attraction at the local theater but soon, soon Broadway would be knocking. No, it wasn’t furthering his career that brought him to the crossroads.

Skin white as snow. Hair the color of roasted chestnuts, but fluffy as a newborn chick. Lips that were always chapped because their owner wouldn’t stop chewing on them, pulling them between his teeth and oh, how many times Roman had envisioned his own lips being there instead-

He, may have had a… small thing, for his… roommate. They hadn’t known each other for exceptionally long, but already Roman simply knew they were meant to be. Putting out that ad for a roommate had been the best decision of his life, besides auditioning for his first theater role. They’d hit it off like oil in hot grease, gunpowder and flame, shoving aluminum foil in a microwave and watching the sparks fly. The phrase “opposites attract” had never been more appropriate and Roman knew, he just knew, Virgil must have felt the same. It was a gut instinct, intuition, a feeling in his very bones.Yet, strangely, no matter how hard he tried the man was positively infallible to his advances. Roman liked to think of himself as a romantic; truly the cream of the crop in the flirtatious crowd. He was young and handsome with a smile that gleamed and a voice smooth as silk on the skin. Men and women alike swooned at the mere sight of him. Heartfelt serenades had left more than one romantic prospect weak in the knees.Not Virgil. No pickup line, affectionate gesture, thoughtful song or bold action would sway his roommate. There was the banter, of course, the core and life blood of their relationship, but the mutuality of the spark ended there. Virgil either shrugged off his efforts or outright turned his back on Roman, avoiding it all in the same stubborn manner he’d avoid a proper sleep schedule. It was infuriating at first, but as the weeks went by with zero progress, Roman felt himself growing more and more disheartened. He was desperate.

Which brought him to the crossroads.

Of course, it wasn’t all so simple as wandering to the nearest intersection. No, Roman had to do a little research, and tried to recall details from the story he’d been told as a child. This was going to be quite the grim undertaking, but Virgil was worth it. Roman would do anything to at last break through that gloomy shell and harbor his roommate’s subtle affections.

First, he needed a dirt crossroads. That would be a slight drive to the countryside, but nothing beyond his abilities. Next, he needed a photo of himself- again, hardly a problem. Roman took enough pictures and selfies for ten people. The other two “offerings,” however, were the real test of his mettle. Dirt from a graveyard; morbid, and he’d nearly gotten caught, but luck was on his side. Who knew having a historic graveyard just a few blocks from his residence would be a good thing? The last was the worst. He couldn’t even comprehend why this particular ritual piece would be necessary.

A bone from a black cat.

Roman didn’t like to think about how he’d obtained that one. He hadn’t killed any animals, obviously, thank god. But the alternative wasn’t much more desirable. Still, at the end of the day, he’d claimed his prize and was ready for the event itself.

He wasn’t nervous.

That’s what he told himself, as he shut the items away in a box and pulled the shovel from his car. He kept the mantra up as he found the exact center of the dirt crossroads and dug a shallow hole. Were it not just before midnight, he might have gotten in trouble for this. Thankfully, there wasn’t a residence in sight for at least a mile, and only one lone street light illuminated his desecration.

In went the box. That wasn’t his anxiety spiking, it was adrenaline. This was a big power move. How many people summoned a demon to attain true love? Virgil would probably love it, with his dark affinities and creepy interests. He definitely seemed like the occult type.

Burying the box, Roman patted down the dirt, then returned the shovel to his car. From there, it was just a matter of waiting. Pulling out his phone for a quick game of Candy Crush or a scan of his social media feeds would have been the best time passer, but somehow it felt wrong to bring technology into such a place, during a touchy process like this. He didn’t want to risk anything going wrong. Roman’s knowledge was already shaky at best and at its core this was all nothing but pure rumor and folklore. There was no guarantee it would work.

In the quiet of the countryside, it was just him and the crickets, and the frogs. They chirped away in the field, paying him and his endeavor absolutely no mind. He caught the hoot of a nearby owl and assumed the creature must be up in the old oak tree beside the road. It was the only thing around, besides the streetlight and telephone poles.

The light’s presence came as a relief, honestly. Roman had no idea what phase the moon should be in that night, but it didn’t matter, because the whole sky was clouded over. Not a single star could be seen and thus without the streetlight he would have been stuck in pitch blackness. The heavy shadows outside its circular beam, a metaphorical sanctuary from the unknown, made him uneasy enough. And as the minutes stretched into nearly an hour, he started to wonder if this really was such a grand idea, after all.

In hindsight, it was rather foolish. Go to the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night and bury something in the road, hoping to summon a demon? What was he thinking, exactly? There had to be better ways. There had to be a safer, more sane method to have Virgil fall for him. He didn’t need to do this. He shouldn’t be doing this.

It was when he reached towards his pocket for the car keys that it finally happened, because of course that’s when it did.

The loose dirt where he’d buried the box shifted. It drew his attention instantly, and he blinked. Nothing else happened for nearly a full minute and Roman started to wonder if he’d just seen things, if his mind was indulging his wishful thinking. He shook his head. Anything could have made the dirt move. Maybe he’d buried a beetle too, on accident. Maybe gravity or the wind had finally knocked a few bits of sediment loose. Maybe… maybe…The dirt shuddered again, and then it swelled, rising and spilling out in a circle as something broke through it. Roman knew the hole he’d dug was too shallow for even an animal, let alone a person. There had been nothing this large inside when he’d dropped in the box. The sequence he was viewing with his own two eyes didn’t make any sense.

Yet there it was, a looming shadow with glowing purple eyes. It didn’t look to be much larger than Roman, but its shadow stretched far longer, crossing the boundary of the streetlight to meld with the surrounding darkness. It was holding the box he’d buried. Stunned almost breathless that the stories were true, Roman could only gawk at the thing as it popped the lid off, rummaging around the contents. A hiss bubbled forth from it; Roman swore he could hear the sneer there, even if he couldn’t see it.

“Is this an animal bone? Dude. Nasty.”

Roman blinked again. He recognized that voice. Yes, it was distorted and gravelly, but beneath that was a core cadence he found all too familiar. He squinted, inquisitive, some of the shock ebbing away so that he could push off his car. “I was merely followin’ the necessary ritual! Are ya tellin’ me I didn’t need to include the bone of a black cat?”

The culmination of shadows tossed the bone aside in distaste, snatching up the photograph before callously dumping the graveyard dirt onto the ground. “I mean, if you wanna be all old school about it, sure, I guess. Hope you didn’t kill anything for it.”

Good lord. What place did a demon have to be so damn judgmental?

Roman scoffed and puffed out his chest, confidence returning swiftly on the wings of defensive indignation. “’Course not! Just what kinda person do you take me for, creature of the night?”

He swore the demon rolled its eyes at him, but it was difficult to tell when there were no visible pupils. It stared at Roman’s picture for what felt like ages, not saying anything else, merely scrutinizing his visage. Was this part of the ritual? Did it have to do with the deal Roman would be making? Why didn’t the demon just look at him instead? Then there was the matter of that voice, which Roman still couldn’t pin down. He just knew he’d heard it somewhere- though, that was impossible. This was a demon. How could he know its voice?

At last, the picture abruptly went up in violet flames, not exactly turning to ash but instead disappearing before Roman’s very eyes. The demon performed the equivalent of rolling its shoulders before locking Roman into place with its piercing gaze. “Alright. You summoned me. What is it you want? Fame? Fortune? The hand of some girl who couldn’t care to give you the time of day?”

Roman gasped and pressed a hand to his chest, rightly offended. “Bold of you to assume I like women.”

“Oh, please.” The demon snorted; actually snorted. That sounded familiar too. “I know your type. A dime a dozen; brazen young men who know ‘exactly’ what they want but can’t seem to get their hands on it. So they cut corners, and they summon me, and get me to do their dirty work for them. Or were you just feeling lonely and wanting some company out here, in the middle of nowhere?”

Roman sputtered. He’d expected some derisive comments, perhaps something sinister about the ritual and his soul, but this? This was an absolutely outrageous and unwarranted level of sass. From a demon! He was positively gobsmacked. In fact, there was only one person who so thoroughly thrashed him like this. Ironically, they were the cause for this entire debacle, yet if Roman didn’t know any better he’d think Virgil were there making fun of him. The uncanny similarities were really beginning to grate on his sanity.

Was this part of the demon’s ploy? Did it already know his deepest desire, and was playing on it to wear Roman down? Make him more inclined to accept a grave deal? Swindle him straight out of his soul without actually providing a lick of compensation? What had Roman gotten himself into?

Apparently, the demon didn’t have much patience. It growled softly at Roman’s lack of verbal response. “Well? What do you want? I don’t have all night.”

Roman was surprised by that comment. “Don’t have all night? Whatever do you mean? You’re a demon. What else could you possibly have to do but make deals with people? What, do you have some angels to terrorize? Candy to steal from a baby?”

Oh, the demon was scowling, Roman could just feel it. “I thought maybe, just maybe, viewing me in this form would make you even a tiny bit less annoying. This is what I get for hoping. I should have known hell nor high water would get through that thick skull of yours.”

“Uh. Excuse me?” Now Roman was really confused. “Do I… know you? What do you mean, ‘this form?’ Are you not always a walkin’ ink blot, Bendy the Depressin’ Demon?”

“Like you just said, I’m a demon, princey. I can change my form at will. One of the perks of being a monster. Usually, I just can’t be bothered, so I show up like this and get the deed done with.” The demon sighed, its voice edged with another sneer. “You would be difficult.”

Roman stared. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be offended again, because there was only one person who used that nickname for him: “princey.” Virgil had coined it after coming to one of his musicals, after begging and pleading with the reclusive grump for days. Roman was playing a prince, and after returning home Virgil had commented how fitting the role was. After a bit of banter regarding whether the title was a compliment or not, the nickname had stuck, and it retained a small soft spot in Roman’s heart.

Had the demon read his mind? It was speaking to him with such stark familiarity now, though. The menace and eerie factor were fading in the wake of a growing sass and gruffness. As if directly affected by the change, the elongated shadows were coalescing as well, framing a more distinct silhouette. Roman paled.

It couldn’t be.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised, Your Royal Arrogance. You’ve labeled my appearance as ‘concerningly demonic’ before.”

“Virgil?”

The shadows melted away, revealing pale skin and brown hair and smudges beneath glimmering purple eyes. Virgil’s clothes were nothing out of the ordinary; just his usual ripped jeans and thick, patchwork hoodie. Were it not for the circumstances, Roman might think his roommate had simply snuck along for the ride. Instead, the reality of the matter was starkly reaffirmed for him when Virgil parted his lips to reveal two rows of sharp, pointy teeth. More could be seen behind them as he spoke, the distortion gone from his voice. “In the flesh. Well, relatively speaking. This still isn’t my true form.” He shrugged.

Roman gaped, eyes so wide they could have popped right out of their sockets. He had to be dreaming. Maybe he’d never actually left the apartment. Maybe he’d changed his mind, been sensible and just gone to bed, and now his brain was conjuring up what going out to the middle of nowhere to summon a demon of all things would have looked like.

Which was why it looked like Virgil, because dreams were messed up and jumbled together and never, never made a lick of sense. That was the only explanation. He refused to believe this was real.

A blink, and suddenly Virgil- the demon- no, the dream demon- was in his face, mere inches separating their noses. The demon had raised a fist to mime knocking on the empty air and there was mirth glinting in his eyes. “Knock knock, Prince Gawking. Anybody there?” He gave a dark chuckle when Roman understandably leaped back, hitting his car with a loud “thud.” “Okay, I take it back. You are difficult, but this is also really amusing and totally worth the trouble. You look like a mouse.”

Roman spluttered, his indignation returning as he felt an embarrassed heat rush to his face. “I beg your pardon! I am no mouse!” He hurried to straighten up and dust himself off, tugging down his shirt hem. “An’ you will cease usin’ the visage of my cru- of my roommate immediately!”

Virgil- the demon- snorted, still clearly amused. Every time he so much as smirked, or sneered, Roman got another good look at all of those sharp teeth. The sight of them sent chills running laps along his spine. “Oh, but princey. This is what makes you comfortable, isn’t it?” He spread out his arms. “The person you spend the most time with, the one who’s always on your mind. Oh yes- I gleaned enough from those shoe box offerings you buried. This, is precisely who you want to see.”

Roman paled a bit and swallowed hard. “Listen here, Bruce. Cloakin’ yourself in his skin doesn’t make you any less of a shark. Much as I might compare Virgil to the demonic sort an’ the occult, you are besmirchin’ his name by puttin’ on this little act! I won’t stand for it!”

Abruptly, the demon rushed up in a violent surge of purple flames. Roman was so stunned he stumbled back and landed on his butt in the dirt, all bravado expelling from his lungs in a rush. The sass really made it easy to forget he was speaking with a denizen of hell. “Then sit for it! Because guess what, princey, this is no act.” The demon bellowed. Clearly, it was exasperated and possibly frustrated.

Well, it wasn’t the only one. “Stop callin’ me that!”

“Calling you what? Princey?” The demon sneered, though it was simmering down, returning to its more humanoid form.

“Yes, princey!” Roman snapped. He scrambled to his feet, determination burning in his brown eyes as he worked up the courage to stare the monster down. His fists had clenched at his sides. “You’re not allowed to use it. Only he is.”

The demon quirked a brow. “Who? Virgil?” Another dark chuckle and the demon shook its head. “Oh, princey…”

“What did I jus’-”

“Who exactly did you think you were talking to all this time? A doppelganger? Tough luck.” A blink, and suddenly a more realistic, spot-on Virgil was standing there. The sharp teeth were gone, the eyes had dulled and the sinister aura which had been whipping about the creature had disappeared. “Virgil is already here. It’s me, I’m him. So, that means I can say what I want. Princey.”

“That’s impossible!” Roman exclaimed. “Virgil isn’t a demon. He’s my roommate! He’s always been perfectly human, this is jus’- ’s some dream, ‘r a sick joke. You said it yourself, you can shapeshift! This is jus’ a trick to steal my soul!”

“Uh, newsflash, Drama Overlord. You came here and summoned me. To make a deal. Exactly what were you planning to barter with if not your soul?”

“Well- that’s, uh…”

“Trust me when I say you’re not dreaming. I know that first part- trust me- might be a hard pill to swallow, but this is real, and you’re no Sleeping Beauty. You’ve already hit your ass twice. Don’t you think you would’ve woken up by now?” Virgil was starting to circle Roman, eyeing him up like a wolf or a butcher.

Roman would really like to know just where his bravery had run off to. He had a few choice words for it. “I mean, that’s… that is…”

“And you’re right. I can shapeshift. But I’m not gaining much by taking this form, am I? I could’ve stayed a shadow and gotten this crap over with. I just wanted to see the look on your face at realizing you’ve been sleeping under the same roof as a demon all this time. Real hellspawn. I could prove it, if you like.”

He swore he felt something brush against his back; did Virgil have a tail? Horns, too. Was it on purpose? Was Virgil just messing with him?

“You always hide the spare key under the loose step instead of the doormat. You won’t admit it but there’s a bunny sticker still stuck to the sliding glass door for the balcony from when you put them up as Easter decorations and didn’t realize they’d be a bitch to peel off. All of your shampoo smells like a fruit salad, you have an entire stash of Lush bath bombs hidden under your towels, you spend at least one entire hour every morning getting ready, even if you have nothing planned for the day.”

“Now jus’ hold on a minute-”

“You sleep with a stuffed Build-A-Bear you dressed up like a prince, his name is Sir Growls-a-Lot. You refuse to drink anything carbonated, even sparkling water, and you always put Crofter’s on your breakfast- even when it’s not toast. You prefer cinnamon toothpaste over mint like the damn Extra diva you are. I can go on. And trust me, unless I’d been targeting you, I would not know all of this.” Virgil grumbled, “I sort of wish I didn’t….”

Roman was gobsmacked- again. He stared at Virgil for a long period of time before finally, slowly, bringing a hand up to press against his own chest. His eyes stung with the wetness of unshed tears and his expression was the epitome of fondness. “You… remembered all that… about me?” His voice squeaked a little.

Virgil immediately looked like he’d swallowed an entire lemon. He glowered at Roman and shoved hands into his pockets. “Shut up.” His voice reverberated and echoed, like it had while he was ensconced with shadows. “Point is, I’m a demon. The dude you’ve been rooming with is a goddamn demon so now the question is, what are you gonna do about it? I’m still waiting to hear what you want. But then are you just gonna go back? Pretend this was all a dream and look at me the same in the morning?”

Roman blinked. Oh. Right. The entire reason he’d driven out here in the middle of the night, and gone through the trouble of gathering the ritual items. He’d almost forgot. In an instant, it felt like a stone had been dropped into his stomach, and his next swallow was around a dry throat. He began to fidget, no longer able to look at Virgil, those soft feelings gone from his face. He awkwardly cleared his throat. “Ah… yeah. About that. You see… it’s… um. Right, the thing is… I….”

Virgil released an aggravated sigh. “Get on with it, Your Shyness. I don’t have all night.”

“What do you mean you don’t have all night? You’re a demon- nevermind, nevermind, gettin’ off topic here.” Roman cleared his throat again, desperately coughing into his fist as if it would make this any easier. How was he supposed to know the demon he summoned would be the same person he wanted to fall for him? This is what he got for messing with the supernatural. “I wanted… to… have someone fall for me. As hard as I’ve fallen for them. You see, they don’t seem to really notice me, or my advances. I’m… jus’ about at wit’s end.”

Virgil scoffed. “I can see that. You summoned me for help. Pretty desperate.” He brushed some of his bangs out of his face with a soft huff. “Should’ve known it’d be something love related, if not fame. You always were the worst type of romantic.”

Roman winced. He tried not to shrink under Virgil’s scrutiny, but it was hard. Because he knew which question was coming next.

“Surprised you’re so embarrassed about it all of a sudden. Or that you didn’t rant to me about it. You ramble about all your other passions in life. What makes this guy so different?” He eyed Roman a bit longer, partially just to make the man squirm, before shrugging his shoulders. “Whatever. Not like it matters. What’s the poor asshole’s name?”

“Ah…” Roman rubbed at the back of his neck and shuffled his feet. Never before had he been so nervous, even before his very first on-stage performance in front of a real crowd. He was basically confessing here- not even just that, he was admitting that he cared for Virgil’s affections enough to seek out a demon. Hoo boy. He’d really stepped in it this time. “His name… is… Virgil.”

It was Virgil’s turn to blink. He stared at Roman, taken aback, before cool indifference slid over his face again with a shake of his head. “Wow. Figures. Same name as me, this is gonna be fun to deal with.” He sighed. “Last name? Gotta have the whole thing if I’m gonna mess with their head.”

Roman wrung his hands together. Well, there was no real backing out now. Might as well go the whole nine yards. “Virgil Deimos.”

The silence which instantly engulfed their little ring of light was palpable. The tension from Virgil’s initial appearance, which had slowly ebbed away, returned with a nasty vengeance and then some. It was so thick in the air Roman swore it was trying to choke and suffocate him. He wanted to cough, but he’d admit it- he was too scared. Virgil was staring him down with such a blatant intensity and disbelief that it stole away his last remaining breath.

Why the hell did he still find him so beautiful, even like this? He must have a death wish.

At last, the silence was broken by the sound of tinkling glass. Except it wasn’t glass, it was Virgil, and he was beginning to laugh. The demon laughed, tilting his head back, the sound warped and distorted and just a touch hysterical. Roman thought he saw a glimmer of tears rimming those smudged eyes and he grimaced. He hadn’t even known it was a thing for demons to cry. He’d certainly never seen Virgil do it, but then, Virgil usually hid away in his bedroom whenever he was feeling upset about something.

The laughter subsided, and Virgil brushed away the tears with a careless finger. They must have been from pure mirth because he didn’t look sad at all when he focused on Roman again. “You’re joking. Okay, I get it. You find out I’m a demon, you know I’ve been scaring the piss out of you on purpose, so you try pulling my leg. Good one. Now what’s his real name?”

Roman sputtered. “That is the name! Virgil Deimos.” He stared the demon down, even as he felt that heat return to his cheeks. “…you. It’s you, alright?”

Virgil’s eyes glinted purple for a brief moment, and then he took a step back. His expression shifted to shock. “You’re serious. Holy shit.”

“Uh, isn’t it an oxymoron ‘r somethin’ for a demon to use the word holy-”

“Shut up.” Virgil snapped, before running clawed fingers through his hair. “Holy shit. Holy shit. You mean it. You mean… me. Me. Why?” He turned to look at Roman again, his eyes narrowed with newfound suspicion and paranoia. “…why?”

Roman bit at his tongue for a moment. Lord, hadn’t he gone through all of this trouble to avoid blatantly confessing his feelings to Virgil? Still, now that he knew Virgil was a demon with untold power, he was far more inclined to just answer the question. He only hoped Virgil didn’t get insulted or something and decide to rip his guts out. “Why? Why? Because you’re soft-” He tensed as Virgil hissed and hurried on. “-a-an’ attractive!”

Virgil scoffed. “You call me things like ‘Emo Nightmare’ on a regular basis, princey. And constantly judge my ‘look.’” Virgil raised his hands to use air quotes for emphasis.

It was Roman’s turn to huff. “Jus’ because I might not… agree… with your fashion choices, that doesn’t mean you aren’t attractive. You’ve got this sort of… broody, dark allure about you.”

“Wow, you really only hit half of that ‘Prince Charming’ nickname, don’tcha?”

“Shut up an’ listen to me!” Roman snapped, and he was a little surprised when Virgil actually blinked and shut his mouth. Well… good. Maybe he could actually get out more than one sentence at a time now. He tugged down his shirt a bit and straightened his shoulders. “From the moment I saw you, I was smitten. Downright lovestruck, do you hear me? Cupid took one of his frivolous little arrows an’ jabbed it straight into my heart!” He mimed the act of being stabbed in the chest.

Virgil rolled his eyes, but there was the barest hint of a smile on his face. “Nice choice of words there.” At Roman’s glare, he held up his hands. “Couldn’t resist, couldn’t resist, go on.”

Roman pouted at him. “Laugh an’ be amused all you want, but I speak the truth. There are many things I like about you, Virgil.” His tone softened, along with his gaze, and he offered the demon a hand. Of course, Virgil only proceeded to stare at the appendage like Roman had lost his mind, and maybe he had. He continued speaking nonetheless. “I like how your hair is an utter mess in the mornin’, but you don’t seem to care. I like how meticulous you are about your eye liner, an’ your hoodies, but little else. I think it’s adorable that your favorite color is purple, that you doodle little storm clouds any time you get your hands on paper an’ a writin’ utensil. I like how intense your voice gets when you’re passionate, an’ how witty you can be with your sass. Few can be a match for me, after all.

“I like how you always curl up into a ball, no matter what you happen to be sittin’ on. How you always hug the throw blankets an’ pillows. You’re never cold, you jus’ like to be cradled in soft things, an’… I’ve always wondered if that could include my arms.” Roman dropped to a knee. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but it just felt right. This grand gesture and confession of love needed the proper pose! “I’ve wanted you, Virgil. I’ve wanted you for weeks an’ I’m at my wit’s end.”

Virgil actually looked uncomfortable, but not in a bad way. More like he’d never dealt with this sort of affection before, or the feelings it caused. He was flustered. “You can’t be serious. Crushing on me for weeks? All we ever do when we’re in the same room together is butt heads.”

“That’s jus’ it!” Roman exclaimed. “I absolutely live for our banter, the heat of a verbal battle, each of us vyin’ to have the last clever word! That’s when you’re at your most fiery, your most enticin’. I tried comin’ onto you in several ways, but you always mistook my flirtations as a gag, ‘r a tease. You always completely missed the point an’ you never took me seriously- just like you’re not takin’ me seriously right now!” Roman’s eyes might as well have been aflame. “Well, it doesn’t matter if you believe me or not! You’re here to make a deal with me, right? I want Virgil Deimos to notice me. I want him to feel things for me. Or at the very least, see my motives for what they truly are.”

Virgil seemed to be at a loss, and Roman knew he had him. The demon squinted at him, scowling hard and shoving his hands back into his hoodie pocket. “You realize that means I get your soul, right? You’re not even asking me to fall in love with you, or be yours. You’re asking for a chance. That’s all.”

Roman smiled, and his voice had gone soft again. “I know. But even if you are a demon, I wouldn’t want to force you into anythin’. I wouldn’t try to make anyone love me. What’s the point, then? Is it really love? I just want a chance to earn it. I want that initial spark, an’ then time to see if I can fan the flames into somethin’ truly marvelous an’ worthwhile. An’… if I fail at that….” He dropped his gaze. “…I suppose it would at least have been worth the adventure, in the end.”

Virgil pursed his lips. He looked legitimately torn for a moment, which was odd. For him, as a demon, surely this must be a real win-win of a situation. No matter what, he’d get Roman’s soul, and he might not even need to pay the full price for it. So why did he look so conflicted? “I….” He stared at Roman for several moments longer before sighing. “I… can’t. I can’t make this deal with you.”

Roman was immediately on the defense. “Why not?! I summoned you! You’re supposed to take whatever deal I’m offerin’, that’s how it works, you can’t jus’-” A cold finger pressed to his lips and his brown eyes widened.

“Shut up, princey.” Virgil growled. He was quick to remove his finger, clearly uncomfortable with the gesture but desperate to stop Roman from talking. “I’ll still make you a deal. Just… not that one. Not one for your soul.” He grumbled, “At least not immediately.”

Roman blinked. “What… do you mean?”

Virgil sighed. “Listen. I might be a demon, but I’m not heartless, and I’m not as cruel as I could be. I’m not… just gonna let you throw away your soul on me. But I am obligated to make a deal with you. So how about this? I’ll… give you your chance. To swoon me, win me over, whatever. If… if you fail at that, like you decide to give up and move on, I… I get your soul then. But if it works, deal’s off. You won’t owe me anything.”

Roman could do nothing except stare at Virgil, wide-eyed. He belatedly realized he was still on his knees. Something about that minute detail made the situation all the more poignant. “But… why? Why do this for me?”

Virgil wasn’t looking at him, but he did provide an answer; sort of. “Don’t worry about it. Demon business. You wouldn’t understand.” Roman had a feeling that was a load of bull, but Virgil barreled on so he couldn’t call the demon out on it. “Anyway, do we got a deal or not? I can’t refuse to make one with you, but… you can change your mind. Now’s your last chance to do it.” Virgil stuck out his hand.

Roman’s stare shifted to the appendage instead, while the gears churned away inside his head. Technically, he was still getting what he wanted. Now he just had the chance to skip out on eternal damnation. He couldn’t even be paranoid about it being a trap or a trick; Virgil had clearly lowered his odds at getting Roman’s soul. It really didn’t make a lick of sense to him, but… who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth? Perhaps Virgil had a change of heart. Maybe he already saw Roman in a new light, after all. His stance on trying had hardly changed, so… he had nothing more to lose.

Decisively, Roman took Virgil’s hand, giving it a firm shake. “Deal.”

A flicker of anxiety passed through Virgil’s face before it dimmed back into indifference, and he retracted his hand. “Alright. Cool. You just made yourself a deal with a real life demon, Sir Desperate. How does it feel?”

In a single, fluid motion, Roman rose to his feet. One hand pressed fingertips to his chest, while the other swooped out in a grand gesture towards Virgil. He was giving the demon his very best smolder. “Like I’ve got a chance in hell.”

Virgil’s eyes widened, then he snorted, shaking his head. “This is gonna be hell. For me, anyway.” He looked over at Roman’s car and quirked an eyebrow. “You drove all the way out here in the middle of the night? You really do have a death wish.”

Roman laughed and spun on his heel, hands rising up towards the sky. “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn!”

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Beetles are in the insect order of Coleoptera, which is the largest order of insects. Forty percent of all insects are beetles. In fact, beetles make up almost 25 percent of all existing animal life. There are more than 350,000 species of beetles worldwide, and possibly more if you factor in species that are not yet discovered. These are divided into 4 basic subgroups – Archostemata, which are wood boring ‘telephone-pole’ beetles and reticulated beetles, which have a distinct pattern of squares on their outer shell; Adephaga, which are bark beetles, ground beetles and most...

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Anon you should look up the telephone pole beetle cause they have the craziest reproductive cycles

Hi!! Beetles r my special interest and I was wonderin if u knew of any cool beetles/what ur fave beetle is!! Personally Japanese beetles like the Hercules beetle and the dynastes beetle r my faves, since I adore beetle sumo. Have a nice day!

Those are great choices! I know of so many cool beetles I wouldn’t know where to start naming them. I love tortoise beetles a lot. If you wanna see a whole bunch of nice beetles, though, I would check out my beetle tag here and also this page on iNat. You can also enter any location at the top there and see beetles only from that area, which is especially fun if you choose tropical areas where there are absolutely BONKERS amounts of beetles.

And now I will share a random very nice beetle for us all to admire:

Golofa aegeon male, Colombia

(Photo is public domain)