#like a wasp in a hole in the ground i think?

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

does anyone know any fun bugs i could use to symbolise transformation with sort of like a death/rot/decay slant

[crevicedwelling]

hello! i am a relatively new user here on tumblr, less than a year, and i have heard a comment or two about a 'wasp discourse' that happened here, that wasps are much more nice than bees or something among those lines

this caught my curiosity as im writting a wasp based character whos just an ahole as i did it on what i knew abt them from general internet and im stuck on wether i should maaayybe change them up a bit

if its not too much to ask do you happen to know a bit abt this discourse? or have a link to it? or if not to the discourse itself some other link that elaborates abt the same topic? perhaps even someone else i can ask this?

thank you very much!

to start off, there are a lot of bees and wasps in this world and it is not easy to generalize about them. there are ~20,000 bee species, and the vast majority of these are solitary bees that nest in the ground, plant stems, or in holes in wood, and because they produce no honey or have a colony to guard, have no need to be defensive or aggressive towards humans (because “towards humans” seems to be what most people base this idea off of). colonial bees, like honeybees, are actually much more defensive than solitary ones; they have huge food stores and many defenseless larvae, hence their nasty stings (or bites, for the stingless bees) and swarm defense of their hives.

bees, however, are just a family of wasps. their closest relatives are believed to be the crabronid wasps (example: cicada killers) and sphecid thread-waisted wasps (ex. mud daubers). these wasps, and most others, are also largely solitary, and hunting prey aside, don’t typically use their stings for anything other than personal defense. of the hundreds of thousands of wasps, most of them (75%) are not just solitary but also parasitoids that develop inside other insects. it’s hard to say “all wasps are assholes [to people]” when some 100,000 of them are tiny specks smaller than sesame seeds that nobody other than scientists notice.

two parasitoids: a braconid ~3mm long & something else ~0.3mm long

the wasps most people take issue with are vespids, since they like the same foods we do (sweets, meat) and have powerful stings to defend their nests. these include the social hornets, yellowjackets, and paper wasps, but many mason wasps and the like are solitary (and, you guessed it, want nothing to do with people). vespids are great predators of caterpillars, flies, and other pests that humans don’t like in addition to being pollinators.

a yellowjacket: Vespula squamosa

the usual anti-wasp, pro-bee sentiments go: wasps attack for no reason, don’t pollinate, don’t make honey, and are “assholes.” wasps do pollinate (most wasps, bees and ants don’t eat solid food, and therefore largely drink flower nectar; some plants are only pollinated by wasps).

some tropical wasps do actually make honey, though it’s not harvested by humans. it’s sort of silly to say that making honey is what makes bees “good” though—a very selfish mindset, and for example butterflies are well-liked by people despite not making any edible products for us.

wasps also attack only when provoked, either because you’re near a wasp nest or when you lean on one accidentally. they are defending their baby sisters and themselves, same as bees would. at least in the US, I think the reason that wasps are so hated is that we have many species of paper wasp and yellowjacket that are willing to nest on or under houses, while the (invasive) honeybees prefer trees or are kept by beekeepers in artificial hives, so it’s just more likely you’ll run into problems with wasps than bees.

tl;dr:

wasps and bees are neither “nice” nor “mean.”

bees are mostly loners that don’t bother people. colonial bees will sting to defend their nests or themselves from predators. most bees are pollinators, who gather pollen to feed their larvae. a few species make honey that humans harvest.

wasps are mostly loners that don’t bother people. colonial wasps will sting to defend their nests or themselves from predators. most wasps are pollinators, and most hunt or parasitize other insects to feed their larvae.

[grapejuicestyless]

It Killed You Just The Same

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: He loved her, he loved everything about her. More than her looks, but how gentle she was. But when given the choice between killing her or letting them kill her, he had no choice.

She wore long brown boots, ones with clunky buckles at her ankles. Long socks poked out of the tops, thick and white, matching the crisp white dress she wore, covered in eyelet fabric that fell no more than past her upper thighs.

She looked the closest you could get to a lamb, and Harry deemed she was just as sweet as one too. He noted the dirt on her knees, probably from kneeling on the ground to tend to the animals that scurried by, and the wheat in her hair.

It seemed the longer she was around, the more life came around. It was like even the most dim creatures knew how gentle she was, how much she could give them. Harry always loved that about her, how somehow, with all the cruelty spat at her, she always had more love to give. He decided she was better than most, motherly to anyone smaller than her, all the squirrels and kittens, the children and the wasps. It didn’t matter to her, her love was all the same, like a real life princess.

“Y/n/n!” Harry called out her name across the grassy field, and as she turned to him he swore all the air was stripped from him. He felt guilty for even going through with it, but her innocence was worth so much more than anything. He’d heard about how sometimes people will sit with their pets as they die, let them lay in their lap and comfort them through the darkness until the pain simmers out, make them think it’s not forever. Harry figured Y/n deserved that too.

“Harry!” She squealed, running over to him with a wife grin, her hands pulling at the ends of her dress even though the fabric was short enough to begin with. Her underwear peaked out from underneath. Harry usually would have scolded her playfully for being so forgetful, for nearly flashing the birds flying overhead, but he decided he couldn’t even fake being angry at her today.

Her hug felt like a blanket of warmth on his skin, her hair done in braids that fell down her back. He wished it had been down so he could have ran his hands through it one last time, but he stuck his nose as close to her scalp as he could and memorized her smell.

“I missed you.” She told him, giggling against his body. Her skin felt so soft in comparison to his, her clean cut cuticles and baby pink nails so beautiful in comparison to his calloused palms and bloody knuckles. He wondered how something so pure could have fallen into his lap at all.

He considered himself awfully lucky to have been given her, for her to have loved him like she did, because he was certain he loved her twice as hard, but now he saw it as a curse. His karma for all his bad doings. Because the world was cruel, and a man like him could never have a woman like Y/n. So it made him choose. He could take her, or the men who he tried so hard to keep her away from would have her.

“I missed you more baby, how was your day?” Harry asked, his words muffled by his lips pressing against the top of her head. Her smile spread against his neck where she kept her head buried.

The leather around his waist felt harsher than before, the very belt Y/n had helped alter for him, the holes punched in by an old screwdriver and a hammer that laid untouched in the junk drawer. In fact, it felt too tight now, a belt that was usually falling off of him, suffocating him until he felt purple.

He hoped the feeling of his hand rubbing her back distracted her mind from the feeling of his other pulling the knife from its pocket that hung on the side of the belt.

“It was awfully warm this morning so I spent most of the day leaving our extra jars outside with water for the animals. I swear I heard some chipmunks panting earlier today.” She joked, and a small laugh rumbled through my chest.

“I bet, baby. Thank goodness they have you to look after them.” He entertained, his arm raising to wrap around her back, the butt of the knife pressed into his palm, just barely touching the curve of her back.

“Honestly, Harry it has me thinking.” She spoke softly, practically mumbling now in the comfort of his touch. It seemed he always had that effect over her, lulling her into a state of vulnerability with him, baring everything for him to see.

His hand shifted, the cold edge creating a small gap between the eyelets in Y/n’s pretty white dress. Harry could only hum as his hand shook, the knife so close to her skin, he wondered if she could feel the coolness of it radiating onto her skin.

“I wanna be a mother.”

Her words hit him deep, but it was too late. Blood poured from where the handle lay, the blade hidden somewhere underneath her skin, stuck between the fabric of her dress. The delicate whiteness of it stained a deep satin, dripping in a line down the center of her back. But she didn’t move, she didn’t scream, she didn’t beg. She didn’t even gasp.

Her arms slowly wrapped around Harry tightly, her lips pressing against his skin tenderly.

“No, no, no.” He mumbled quickly, unwilling to believe he ever had the willpower to follow through. He tried to pull her from his body, willing whoever was watching over him to have the power to give him the gift of looking into her lovely eyes just one last time.

“No, please, darling.” He pleaded, pulling her off of him frantically. Her eyes were crinkled in the corners and her lips in a soft smile. She looked defeated, but not because of him, like her own body was giving out on her.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, baby. I had to, I had to save you, I’m sorry.”

He told her over and over again to make her understand, but he was a fool because it was all wasted breath. Of course she knew, she’d known it from the second it pierced her skin. Her lover was rough, cruel, violent, and vicious, but he was never mean, and he always was honest when he said he loved her.

“I love you.” She promised him in a thin gasp, her body lying against his in a final hug, and thats the way she went out. So fitting for such a loving woman to have gone out in the loving embrace of her lover, her soulmate. His hands drenched with the blood he never wanted to face, and his knife stuck in his back. He only realized as her heart stopped and her thinking ceased that the knife laid right where her heart would be just a few inches back.

But he had just missed it, in the end. He had missed her heart and he was glad he did. He only hoped as he sat in the dirt holding her in his lap like a wounded doe that in some other life, he was able to give her everything, and the birds that would shake him from his nightmares would have instead been their children he would never meet.

[tiredfox64]

Hi! I hope you are having a good day/evening! 🤩

If it's okay with you, I'd like to see a Shang Tsung (MK11 or Titan! Shang) x afab!powerful! reader fic. I was thinking of a character who is kind to friends, so much so that she seems harmless, but lethal to enemies 💚🐍

I ask you to imagine their first meeting and how things might evolve from there, trying to avoid the non-con as much as possible (I don't feel comfortable with it 😢)

Give vent to your imagination! 😍

Beauty Like A Butterfly, Pain Like a Wasp

Yip notes: Ugh we love gorgeous gorgeous men with a very petty attitude.

Pairing: Shang Tsung (MK11) x Afab reader

Warnings‼️: None...WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?

Could a creature ever be friendly but also deadly? Shang Tsung believed something like that was impossible. Perhaps a dog fits the criteria but never a person. He truly means friendly and kind. Not humble and peaceful like Liu Kang would portray. Someone who will make people smile with no ill will. Someone who draws people in with their aura and demeanor. But alas, he has never once found a person like that.

That was until Shang Tsung set his eyes on you.

You were as graceful and bloodthirsty as a butterfly. As kind and cuddly as a bumble bee with a wasp’s wrath. He has only seen such beauty in Sonya Blade, but never the same warm aura that you radiated. He believed your friendliness was a façade or a trick just like he would portray. But that mask never slipped off during the time you and him spent together.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Shang Tsung’s first encounter with you was unforgettable because of how unexpected it was.

He journeyed through realms trying to find souls that might be a great addition to his collections. He hoped to find someone worthy to either trick into being his pawn or feasting upon their souls But all he could find were regular beings who had nothing extraordinary about them. Sure, some people looked like they had amazing strength but it was nothing compared to Goro or Kintaro. There was definitely nobody around who seemed to wield any magic. No one stood out just yet. He needed to wait. His patience would be rewarded.

You stood not too far away. You were among your friends, laughing and making them smile whenever you gained the chance. To them, you were the equivalent of an angel. You were the sweetest thing the gods could have given the world with your friendly demeanor and ability to make anyone your friend. The emo girl who usually sits alone is as much your friend as the guy who keeps going to jail for things he “supposedly” did. That’s the kind of person you are.

However, not everything about you is on the surface. Secrets lie even in honest and sincere people. They may not seem like secrets to you but to others, they believe they are since it’s a shock to them. This secret of yours will be revealed to Shang Tsung. Would you like some Netherrealm demons to help bring it out? They will show up in about 5…4…3…

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!”

…now.

You swiftly turned around and heard the ground crumble as many hands started clawing their way out. Soon, horns of many shapes and sizes emerged from this burning hole. There should be no reason for demons to emerge in the streets. But creatures from Netherrealm don’t play nice. If they want to invade a realm so badly they would. And right now they want to bring hell upon your home.

Fuck that noise.

You pushed your friends in a certain direction and told them to run without looking back. You watched as people ran around with these demons roaring and growling like the ferocious beasts they were. A switch flipped inside of you and that bright, cheerful attitude turned into one of aggression and hostility. Shang Tsung was not too far from the spectacle he was about to witness.

You bent down to grab a rock, no bigger than the palm of your hand. You observed it to make sure it would be stable enough for what you were about to do next. You reeled back like a baseball player while keeping your eye on the demon with the biggest horns.

The sound of meat being squished was heard as the demon fell to the ground, a hole blown through its head. The bits of rock went flying before landing in the puddle of blood that came seeping out.

This was…unexpected to say the least. Shang Tsung was not ready for that. He wondered if he blinked at the wrong time and missed what you did. Taking in context clues, he was able to determine what happened. You chucked that rock at Mach speeds and killed the demon on impact. The demon was dead in a matter of a millisecond. When he looked back up he saw you gesture to the rest of the pack to come at you. You were ready to eliminate the rest of them.

Shang Tsung kept a close eye on your display of ferociousness. These demons, who were much larger and were more muscular than you, were falling like flies. Hearts being ripped from chests, horns being used as weapons, skulls being smashed in, oh the blood bath was endless. Shang Tsung didn’t realize he was smiling at the performance in front of him. Even as you grew tired from the amount of demons you were dealing with he was delighted by the effort you were putting in. You were a rodeo bull who did not back down, you wanted to knock that rider off.

He felt like being nice that day so he decided to use his sorcery to help you out. You watched some of the demons burst into flames or being kicked down into pits of fire. You had no clue what was happening until Shang Tsung came into view. He moved fluently as he dodged everything the demons threw at him. Soon the pack of demons were nothing but corpses on the ground. Shang Tsung finished the job by opening a portal and sending the remains back to the Netherrealm. You stared in astonishment. You had no clue what just happened. All you knew was that this man near you was not normal.

“Uh thanks, stranger. I’m not sure what you did but it sure helped finish the job.” You tried your best to not sound confused since you thought it would be rude.

“That, my dear, was sorcery. It is clear to me that you do not need sorcery since you seem like a competent fighter. I watched you from the beginning and I must say, your performance was deliciously cold-blooded.” He spoke to you with a hypnotic voice that was luring you in ever so carefully as he circled you.

“Uhm, thanks?” You weren’t sure if you wanted to take that as a compliment.

He let out an amused chuckle at your confusion and possible innocence. He already sensed you were not someone faking their goodness like Sindel would do. You were clueless and that can be seen as cute at times. He stopped circling you like a vulture ready for prey to die and walked up to you.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Shang Tsung,” He took your hand and kissed the back of it. “May I ask who you may be?”

Both of you were hooked on each other for one reason or another. You gladly told Shang Tsung who you were. You saw this as a possibly interesting friendship if Shang Tsung would allow it. Will he actually be your friend or will he use you as a stepping stool to his supposed destiny?

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

What have you done to this man? How can he be weakened like this?

Originally, Shang Tsung thought he would use you as another obedient subject that he could use as leverage to get his way. If he could trick Shao Kahn and Sindel, he could easily trick you as well. You would never view him as just a dog that had to listen to his master.

But that was the problem. You didn’t view him as anything negative.

Perhaps it was because he never involved you in his schemes to get Kronika’s crown or spoke about his distaste for certain people. Whatever it was that made you see him in a good light, he couldn’t believe it. All those who “trusted” him knew of his deceptive nature or they fully believed he would aid them all the way in their malicious plans. They were fools and risk-takers. He believed you were one of them until he started realizing the differences you portrayed.

You never asked for assistance on anything even if his sorcery could help. You trusted him fully without much thought of possible deception. If you weren’t acting like the others why are you still here?

Because he was your friend in your eyes. You gave him attention. You showed interest in his sorcery. Even when you two would spar you never got sore about losing. He was sore though after enduring millions of punches from you. He should never forget how powerful you are.

One of the moments that Shang Tsung thought about a lot was the first time he brought you to his island. He showed you his many treasures and special artifacts that he stored on the island. Many items caught your eye such as gold, jewels, and shiny stones. Something told him to test you and see how much you would take. You could take what you wanted, within reason of course. However, your words caught him off guard.

“Isn’t this yours? Why would I take it?”

You stumped him. He was silent as he looked at you with his eyebrows raised. He let out a little ‘hm’ before walking off. You caught up to him, wondering if you made the wrong decision. You actually made a decision he never knew was an option. He knew at that moment that you were just a friendly person. During the rest of the time on the island, you never took a piece of jewelry or a gold coin and pocketed it. You entered the island and left the island with the same items in your pockets.

You had cast an imaginary spell on Shang Tsung. A spell he could never do but you did it without effort. His image of you changed. You were no fool or a pawn. You weren’t a useless subject that he couldn’t use. You were just a woman who gave people chances. That must be why Shang Tsung began to fancy you.

He would invite you to his island multiple times, growing upset occasionally when you had to decline for something reasonable. He would even allow your friends to join you just so he could have a chance to be close to you. Of course, some areas were off-limits. Nobody should find out about the flesh pits.

This would result in your friends teasing you to no end. They would ask you why you haven't made him your rich boyfriend already. He has a freaking island and treasures. But you always told them you were fine with being friends with him, much to his dismay. You’re not blind though, you’ve seen how Shang Tsung’s attitude towards you has been changing. From his choice of words down to his tone, he has become more flirtatious and alluring. He wanted to give you many gifts and spend more time with you. It didn’t even matter if you were sweeping his feet with a kick or listening to him talk about a new trick he could pull off with his sorcery, he wanted you close.

This is ridiculous. He is acting like a coward. It’s time to be bold and officially make you his.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Another visit to his island, what will you two do?

Shang Tsung surprised you with a dress the moment you walked into his throne room. The dress was gorgeous. It matched your preferred style and was in your favorite color. This was your dream dress that you never knew you needed.

“I had this dress made just for you. It was sewn by the finest designers in Outworld. I think you should try it on.” He laid the dress across your arms.

The material was soft velvet with the inside being smooth silk. The textures were comfortable for you. You smiled widely before running out of the room to try on the dress. After about five minutes he heard the door open. You walked in slowly as you looked down at how the dress hugged your body. You looked up at Shang Tsung with that same wide smile being present on your face.

“I think it looks perfect on me. What do you think?” You asked.

He walked closer to you, his eyes taking in your natural beauty. His heart beat harder against his chest in a way he had never felt before. It was a mixture of attraction, excitement, and possibly…love. He can’t say for certain since love is foreign to him. He is only going off of the fact that you are the only one who has made him feel this way.

“Such beauty…” He whispered, “It is so rare, yet I was lucky enough to find it.”

He took your hand into his. The cold metal of his clawed glove grazed over your delicate skin before he brought your hand up to his lips. He kissed the back of your hand just like the first time you two met except this was different. This was not a formal introduction but a display of his interest in you. Even when the kiss was done he didn’t let go of your hand. You didn’t mind at all. It made you feel warm in your cheeks and tingly in your heart.

Your eyes stared into his. You never realize the light that began to show in his dark eyes. Even in the moonlight, they seemed to shimmer at the sight of you. If you knew who he was before you met him you would realize there was no cocky tone in his smile. There was no hint of judgment or aggression with the way his eyebrows were positioned. He does not look down on you. You are as equal as him.

You will be as powerful as him once he creates his New Era. Everyone else will be his subjects that he will use to conquer the realms. But not you. Never you. He would not dare change a thing about you. You are perfect the way you are. You will be his perfect wife who will rule all the realms by his side. Whatever you want will be yours.

Still gotta make her your girlfriend, genius.

“We should put that dress to good use. What do you say?” He suggested.

“Wait, was this your way of asking me out on a date?” You asked in a playful tone.

“Perhaps it was. That is up to you, my dear.”

“You are a tricky man, Shang Tsung. But you are also very charming. I think a date would be a wonderful idea.”

Alright, now the cocky and smug smirk has come back. You know how to get him started. He loves some good praise.

“Excellent choice. I will make sure you will never regret this.”

Yap notes: I'm going to eat his flesh. Adiós!

[danganronpadedication]

----------------------------------------------------------------------- Participated in a danganronpa gift exchange (I don't have the @ for it, but it's Island Mode - Freetime Events) for @quasiimodo Hope you enjoy!

-Mod Tsumugi

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Freetime Event: Planting Flowers  The golden sun shone brightly in the cerulean sky above Hope’s Peak Academy, the intimidating building’s spires casting long shadows across the meticulously trimmed hedges and pristine pathways connecting all parts of the school grounds. The school was divided up based on student speciality, with the sun beating especially hard down on the raised gardens frequented and tended to by Ultimate Florists, Gardeners, Farmers, and other students looking to appreciate some beautiful nature. Among those tending to the garden beds today, was Shuichi Saihara, the Ultimate Detective, kneeling on the pebble pathway beside one of the plots. He adjusted his dark-colored hat on his head, blocking out the sun’s rays as best as he could. 

Also serving to block out the sun for Shuichi, was the Ultimate Entomologist, Gonta Gokuhara, who towered over the plot of dirt like a gentle giant, carrying a tray of budding seedlings in his large, calloused hands. “Thank you for helping, Shuichi,” Gonta said, his voice tinged with earnest gratitude. “Gonta wants to make garden beautiful and helpful for bugs, but Gonta not so good with planning part.” Shuichi offered him a small smile, brushing a smudge of dirt from the heavy-duty gardening gloves he had on. 

“It’s no problem, Gonta. This is a great idea. A garden like this will attract pollinators and keep everything here healthy. Plus, it’s definitely relaxing.”

Gonta beamed, his enthusiasm as infectious as ever. 

“Gonta happy to hear that! Bugs will love these flowers! And maybe classmates will enjoy them too.” 

The pair had spent the better part of last week discussing which plants to add to the gardens, pouring over countless gardening guides, almanacs, and insect reference books for ideas. Gonta had eagerly suggested flowers he knew were popular with “good bugs” - the ones that helped plants grow and kept pest levels down. Shuichi had taken careful notes in a small, brown notepad, one that was now open on the ground between the two of them. 

“Okay,” Shuichi began, consulting his well-written notes, characterized by pencil lead smudges and eraser marks. “Let’s start with the bee balm. It’ll attract pollinators and keep mosquitoes away, which I’m sure the others will appreciate.” 

Gonta nodded, setting down the tray of vibrant, multi-colored bee balm flowers, their spindly petals fanning out and flowing with the wind. Grabbing a trowel, he dug into the dirt, before gently placing the intact roots inside and patting it down. 

“Bee balm smell nice too. Bees and butterflies will be so happy!” 

“Next are the zinnias,” Shuichi said, glancing over at the fluffy, pastel flowers balanced on the tray. “They’re great for butterflies, parasitic wasps, and hoverflies. I think they’d look good in the middle, right?” 

As Gonta dug into the dirt, the earthy smell mixed in the air with the soft floral notes. Shuichi picked up a few of the small flowers, lowering them into the holes that Gonta had prepared, before patting them down. 

“They so colorful, like little suns and rainbows!” 

Gonta hummed softly, his gentle hands lightly packing down the soil so to not hurt the delicate roots. Shuichi founds himself relaxing as they worked side by side, the routing motion of digging and planting soothing his usually overactive mind. 

“Now for the dill, the feathery ones. They should be good for ladybugs and lacewings, and it’ll keep aphids away.” 

Gonta tilted his head thoughtfully. 

“Ladybugs are so helpful. And so cute! Gonta hope many ladybugs come to visit.” 

The two of them planted the dill in neat clusters, ensuring there was enough space for each one to grow bigger. The sun climbed higher in the sky, warming their backs as they worked. A few birds chirped from a nearby tree, a melody only nature could provide. As they planted more and more, alyssum and marigolds, the plot began to resemble a kaleidoscopic mosaic of colors and textures, each one carefully placed almost in a pattern. Gonta wiped his brow, leaving a streak of dirt on his face, but his grin was about as radiant as the garden. 

“Shuichi, thank you for helping Gonta. This garden will make bugs happy, and that makes Gonta happy too.” Shuichi glanced at the flourishing garden, feeling a quiet sense of accomplishment. 

“You did most of the work, Gonta. I’m just glad I could help. I think everyone’s going to like the garden.” 

As they gathered their tools and began to tidy up, a honeybee buzzed past, landing delicately on one of the newly planted bee balm flowers. Gonta’s eyes widened in delight, lighting up at the sight. 

“Look, Shuichi! First visitor!” 

Shuichi chuckled softly, watching the bee flit from flower to flower. 

“I think the bugs already love it, Gonta.” 

Together, they stood in the warm sunlight, basking in the quiet joy of their shared accomplishment and the promise of a garden teeming with life.

[theshadowrealmitself]

Thoughts are back on omegaverse and I wanted to draw this but I’m not feeling in a drawing mood and I don’t wanna figure out glaze rn, anyways

As I mentioned awhile ago in a different post, I think beds in omegaverse would be different and it’d be easy to find those customized beds:

Default - a large round bed with raised cushion edges

Shelf - essentially default but with raised and moveable shelves attached for those want items in their nest that might not be comfortable to sleep with

Cave - sorta like large gumdrop shaped fort, perfect for those who get anxiety in open spaces

*if you or your loved one experience anxiety in open spaces, but also find cave style claustrophobic, try default with different accessories, such as a sheer curtain!

Wasp - connects to the ceiling, perfect for those who find safety and security in high places

*comes in “net style” upon request!

Burrow - hole in the bedroom ground, perfect for those who find safety and comfort in burrowing

*unfortunately burrow style cannot just be bought, your house would already have to come with one installed or you’d have to contact some developers, if you require a burrow nest immediately to get through heats, or even just for a comfortable night’s sleep, we hope you can find comfort in our cave nest

(If I think of any more nest ideas I’ll add them)

[cymorilcinnamonroll]

The Biblical Melkor and Sauron Try This Whole Adopt a Daughter Thing

Lucifer made a pact with Baal Zeboul long ago, before comets thought of falling, and no star had given in to the darkness of their black hole almas, bread of dead never dreamed of, nothing had yielded dust, and humanity was but a pink thing, suckling at the Mother's teat.

"Whatsoever happens to humanity, we follow," Lucifer said in sunlight, in a garden long ago, an apple in his hand, a hard glint in his eye. "There is something special about them. It sparks my curiosity. Something I just cannot place is like a star's heart in their eyes."

Baal scoured the ground for the fallen apple core, then turned it into some rich red clay dirt, burying Lucifer's finished sustenance to feed worms. Cycles, fall, autumn - creeping things and change, humility, were Baal's domain, not the prideful lion or wily snake as his lover Lucifer, his Light, roared and hissed in the Cherubim Throne Room in proud fanfare, leading angels in hosannas and alleluias of beastly song. 

Someone needed to play the small silver bells in the heavenly choirs, after all. The buzz of bees, the wasp's rasp, the dance of dragonflies, the music of cicadas, the hum of crickets, the timbrel of the silent butterfly's wings, the alien eyes of the spider's eight orbs, venom, flutterings, creeping things. "The meek shall inherit the Earth. Hence, I shall be Prince of this World," Baal joked, and Lucifer gave a slight smile, but then his wintry clear eyes of azure hardened again. 

He plucked another apple absentmindedly and bit into the red skin and white flesh with his hard lion (snake?) fangs. "What do we do, when the humans question? Objects, beings, made in God's image, will always question their place in the simulacrum. That is the bug in the computer matrix, brother. Always wanting more."

"You perhaps want more," Baal said, toeing a worm eating the apple core, then bending down to cradle the earthworm in his hands. "I am content, I don't question my place. But you are above us all, aren't you? You think humanity will rise to the occasion. I, I think they will fall."

Lucifer grinned slyly. "What if they do both?"

The sun beat down on Baal scintillating dragonfly wings. "Then I suppose this is a bet you and I must make, brother," Baal oathed to his Morning Star, whom he adored above all - even YHWH. "I say humanity will fall, you say their star will rise."

"I am the instrument of the music, Baal Zeboul. Tell me, will you sing? I need an accompaniest. I grow lonely, leading the choirs in my drowning light."

Lucifer's blond hair shone like butter, or ghee, or was it brass? Baal was never sure what his brother looked like, a lion's mane perhaps, some myth God had dreamed up of how to shape the Milky Way into a guardian angel. They walked hand in hand to the stream from which a white hart, pale as albino and ruby eyed Baal, drank from. They perched on a rock like birds, crouching, taking out some bread and cheese from the pockets of their robes and fanning their wings out for shade.

"Sing to what melody, brother?" Baal Zeboul asked.

"The motley fool. God loves a hangman."

"God loves a sinner."

"God only loves Himself," Baal laughed. "We are cogs, if that. Maybe splinters in a Cross meant as thorns for his new creations."

Lucifer laughed too, a sound like Baal's bells. They ate the bread, apples, and cheese, and snakes mated on the dry river rock in the baking sun of Eden.

Then, strayed to the river, was Eve, Mother of Life - but not yet - and she looked upon her reflection in the pool, entranced like Narcissus, one of her closest descendants, her hair like Lucifer's, her eyes the blue of sky, and her skin pale as Baal's storms. She sat by the riverbank, not noticing the angels, and braided her hair while singing a song Michael had taught her.

"A curious creation, not observant either. Adam is hard as earth, but she is soft as clay. Perhaps I can mold the dim mind within her shattered skull, pretty though it may be - it needs breaking in."

"What are you suggesting, Lucifer?"

Lucifer closed his wings around his body, then pumped them again, fanning Eve. "That I have a companion."

Baal scoffed. "I am yours, brother."

"And what is she, but a dream."

"I have always wanted a daughter, say, Lucifer, can humans fly?"

"Only if you teach them, I suppose. Say..."

Lucifer plucked a cloud down - don't ask how, angels are capable of touching the insubstantial, after all, light as a feather with their bird bones and pure souls - and fashioned a pair of albatross wings.

"Say, Baal. Would these suit a mortal?"

"She is not made in God's image. She looks like Uriel, or Gabriel, or Jophiel, or Haniel. Not like us. But she walks bear, unlike our illustrious sisters. Samael ran away with that failed creation Lilith, and I hear they are raising an army."

"An army to be crushed. You didn't answer my question, Baal," Lucifer said, then quickly pecked Baal on his wan shoulder, sharp edged clavicle the space where Lucifer pressed the seal of his lips. "You go on tangents, butterfly."

"Well, I'm trying to say, God's image is what we are, but do wings suit a bare woman? Uriel is sharp as a sword, Gabriel is all music, Jophiel is a trickster, and Haniel is a rose. Their wings are a melding of darkness of the womb and the sun of YHWH. Can we, as men, even make wings for a woman who does not recognize her own reflection?"

Eve ignored them - not perceiving them out of her own vanity - and leaned down to kiss her reflection. "Wed me, Sun!" she said, mistaking the stars in her eyes for the Light.

Lucifer mused, tossing an apple core into the water. Eve looked up at them startled.

"Brothers? Why do you frequent my looking pool? This is not a place you should go."

Lucifer alighted on the dry rocks behind her, and the mating water snakes slipped into the river.

"Did we disturb you?" he said with a voice like relish sweet and manna dew.

"No," Eve blushed. "I was but looking for my husband."

"Ah yes, your husband," Lucifer said, as Baal watched above from his rocky outcropping. Lucifer's eyes sparkled, and Eve found herself drifting ashore to his tides. "Tell me Eve, would you like wings?" He offered the albatross wings to the girl, barely a woman, and she fancied them quite strongly.

"Wings are the providence of angels. It is not my place."

Lucifer looked up to the sun of YHWH's throne. "Your place is besides the Ineffable Name. The Sun you wish to wed."

Eve looked down at her pearly feet, nervous. "I... I love Him. He will not talk to me. His Prophet is Adam, I am just dust of an afterthought. Dust, dust, what is dust?"

"It is what I shall eat all my days, darling girl," Lucifer said, giving a glance back at Baal. Baal bit some bread and cheese and wondered. "Here, part your hair from your shoulderblades, and turn around, sweet Eve."

Eve did so, Lucifer blessed the albatross wings onto her back, and she laughed in delight. She twirled around as it it were her wedding dress, pumped the pinions awkwardly, then flopped about like a starling.

"How - how do I fly to wed the Sun?" she asked, suddenly blushing, feeling quite small before the two preeminent archangels.

Baal in his pale glory coaxed her out of her humility. "Dust is a virtue," he said softly.

He taught her to fly that day, and Lucifer taught her to sing. Come sunset, Eve had achieved what all baby birds wish of - sweet Seraphic flight.

"Steal the Sun and wed Him, Eve. This is the time he sleeps," Lucifer hissed, his pupils turning to slits as he wanted something.

"I... I can visit the Throne Room now, and marry the Bridegroom," Eve sighed, turning under the purple pink blue sunset to her reflection once more, now an albatross around Lucifer's neck.

"But be careful, Eve, for the Sun burns all he touches," Baal said, sharing a knowing look with his lover.

"I do not care if I am set alight, I but need to kiss Him."

So Eve flew to the Throne Room, where He slept, snuck in, and kissed him on the cheek.

The Son woke from a pleasant dream. "Eve?"

"Son?"

She was burned to the bone, but because His Light was gentle, she felt no pain, only orgasmic Communion.

"Who told you you could visit my chambers?" The Son said.

"I... I... Baal Zeboul and Lucifer taught me how to fly, and Son, please, wed me! Adam is harsh and hard as the Earth, and all he does is lust after Lilith. I do not belong anywhere, but when you shine down on me, Son, I feel something that feels like... well, when God speaks of Love, I think that is it."

The Son smiled. "It is true, my Father made me Love Incarnate. Come to my bower Eve, let me show you my Light."

And so the burnt Qliphoth husk consummated Sephiroth's shells.

And from that day on, the Son did not part from Eve, the Father did not part from Adam, and Lucifer noticed the angels wishing they too were favorited and played like flutes on the lips of the Father and Son.

"Does He not care for us anymore?" Rubiel whispered.

"Did He forget us?" Penemue wrote in a scrap of leather, and cast it into a well in shame.

"He did, He did, He does not Love us," Lucifer directed the symphony, harvesting angels, and met Samael and Lilith's brood and the pair by the Red Sea, and with Baal Zeboul, forged an Unholy Alliance.

"I will be King." Samael said, a broken skull.

"I will be Queen," Lilith danced with babes suckling at her witch teat.

"I will be Lord," Lucifer said. "I am the Bright and Morning Star."

"And I will be the General of the Damned," Baal Zeboul buzzed.

And because Eve wanted, because Lucifer wished, because Baal Zeboul dreamed

The world

was

born.

[definitelynotshouting]

For the ask game, 5 or 9 please!!!

I've been going absolutely nuts for your worldbuilding, it's so cool~

mcytblr writer ask game

AAAAA thank you so much for the compliment!!! :D im so glad you like my worldbuilding :]

5.) How do you translate the world of Minecraft to fit into your fanfics when you keep the original setting?

It sorta depends on the story!!! Sometimes what i want to tell requires a different understanding of Minecraft than others-- for hermitcraft and the life series in particular, i tend to go for a more sci-fi feel with code and game mechanics built in, but in the past ive worked with more fantasy-based aus too :] i think it really just depends on what i want for whatever story i happen to be telling, and what holds the most interest for me at the time; i rarely keep strict worldbuilding between different aus, although i will say hunger au has hardcore crept into my psyche for how i view the concept of players and server coding :]

9.) How do you worldbuild?

On gods the very foundation of my worldbuilding is always built on either "hey wouldnt this be neat???", "hey wouldnt this be magnificently fucked up???", or, most commonly, both. I always, always start with something along those lines-- for hunger au, it was "wouldnt it be super fucked up and also hella cool if Watchers were actually parasites??" and then four hours down the rabbit-hole of research later i was looking into ketoacidosis, the electromagnetic spectrum, and the life cycles of parasitic wasps 😂😂😂😂😂 the brainrot gets a hold of me fast, what can i say

But basically, i think of a broad concept, and then i start thinking about how i can ground it in some degree of realism (due to personal preference), and also inside the setting of whatever story im trying to tell. Its a sort of natural ripple outwards for me-- if i make this a thing, who and what does that effect? What makes this possible?? How does it work, what makes it work?? And then i follow those threads all the way down, before branching off in different directions to see what ELSE that affects.

The thing about worldbuilding that ive found is everything is connected-- when you think of the world as a system, where everything influences everything else, it becomes a lot easier to see those connecting points and ask yourself questions about them!! Which then leads to answers to those questions, and eventually each puzzle piece starts to slot together into one very broad picture :]

The other thing i do is i tend to look at something and go "hm. how can i make this different than what i normally see," which is something i value a lot in my work!!! I like fiddling with a concept and seeing what kind of fresh spin i can put on it. It feels valuable to me in a way i have a hard time articulating, but i feel like the new perspectives i gain by doing that can really elevate my worldbuilding to levels i wasnt fully aware existed beforehand :]

[bodrewritten]

Bride of Discord Rewritten Chapter 16: Heart Made of Ground

The air held still as if it were threatened. Thick and calloused with every breath, if one were to fan smoke into the room, it would simply sit. It was the aftermath of russian roulette, silent and unstirring, capped with light breaths and crouching figures.

Fluttershy spoke first, standing tall and comfortable.

"Oh dear, did you hear the whole thing?"

"it's not like he couldn't've, we was practically yellin'!"

Twilight gave Applejack a gentle whap to the back while looking forward with her goofy nervous smile.

"oh no! she's right in every way! I heard it all!...well the parts loud enough to hear anyways."

Fluttershy cringed as her friends spread out over the expanse of the dance floor, now playing nothing to the tune of their anxious murmuring. How could she have let this happen?! Discord could've heard every word her friends said about him, the ones that stung like wasps! He would say that he was right and that she was with them, or maybe he'll break the contract! or start a war! or-

Fluttershy near hyperventilated as her thoughts raced for their positions in the front of her mind. Discord simply raised a claw and smirked. she hated it. The sly grin that said he was planning something so heinous and with little thought behind it.

"oh dear fluttershy, I thought nothing of it! however, your friends and I have something to discuss! does the contract ring a bell? it should! after all, we insisted we bring them here to rework it!"

The other mares dropped their shoulders and withers towards the earth. Geez, when he said it like that it seemed even more cruel to say what they did. Rarity spoke first, followed by Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash.

"Oh dear me, I should apologize to you directly for saying such things. Even if your decorum is dreadfully gauche, and you spied on us for years and you tried to take over Equestria-"

"Rarity, I think you forgot your point. That's okay though! I can finish! We should know you before we say anything mean, cuz, uhh-"

"get to the point Pinkie!"

"no no, I've got it: Discord... you don't need our approval to marry her, but you should know that you have it. and I... we want to know you like Fluttershy does. Ponyville is all about equality, and we should practice what we preach." rarity spoke with grace and dignity, despite being scared out of her gourd.

Discord spoke nothing, but yawned and floated on a small yellow cloud. like a flying cumulous of sorts. He pulled up a written copy of the contract, Tapping it gently, and tearing a hole through the parchment as it burst into pink flames! The ponies gasped as the smoke consumed the words and the history of their agreement was scorched.

"You understand the implications of what you just did. I hope you do, anyways." Twilight seethed.

"Implications shrimplications! I no longer want any part in this deal! nada! Nikto! None! nix! It simply no longer suits my interest."

Spike raised a brow. "what would that mean?"

Discord flopped onto his side and shrugged.

"what good is a deal like this to a being of chaos? putting limits on chaos? gag me with a spoon! If you ponies think you have the authority to tame eldritch being then perhaps your hubris has gone unchecked for far too long! that's not to say that i'll claim my throne in Equestria, no. I just want nothing to do with you ponies ever again."

Fluttershy felt her throat get tight and sting.

"that.. that's- you can't possibly mean that, there's got to be more to it! that's it!? you're leaving everything here because you think it's boring??" she spluttered rapidly. Fluttershy would not take this explanation. it was bare and dry!

"oh of course you want something more from me! but I am bare! I am unapologetically something more than comprehension!"

Discord swished his tail away to and fro, sending the ponies back and away from him. Pinkie packed everything from her cannon tight into a box, as Rainbow guided spike and her mare away from it all.

"you're lying to me! there's something more at play, I know it! you can talk to me I promise, Discord!"

Discord snarled and whipped his tail to the ground, in an instant the cobblestone tiles crackled and swiped the ponies outside the house from below their feet. fluttershy hovered above the moving rocks.

"As a matter of fact there might be... suppose chaos is contained, then it ceases to be. Id rather live for eternity to take my throne than cease to be because of one, MEASLY friend. You and your Infernal Lown Posse are temporary obstacles for which I couldn't be bothered with."

Fluttershy grasps his paw with both hooves and stutters out the only thing she can possibly say without her heart collapsing.

"you're throwing it all away for this?"

Fluttershy was pushed away by a force from his wings out into the forest.

Fluttershy was evacuated from the premises, and the roaring wind hailed her away from the murky trees, where her friends waited for her return in a manner reminiscent of foals that knew they were in trouble.

Applejack rested her hoof on Fluttershy's crest and back, as the rest followed. Twilight stroked her mane and whispered gentle, so as to not rouse her aching, breaking heart.

Fluttershy sat silent and abased, clutching her face in her hooves. freedom, at the end of her heel, back in Ponyville in an instant. dissociated, stuck in the cavernous flesh of her mind. There should have been more, she deserved more, he deserved more. The voices around her became muffled, silenced by a ringing tone.

As Fluttershy's empty stare was uncovered, (gosh, when was I blindfolded?) a flash of candy, lights, confetti, and party decorations assaulted her senses. A large banner blanketed the town hall building, and her eyes followed every letter, every curve and dot until she was met with the message:

"Welcome Back To Your Home Fluttershy!"

[blueguydraws]

While designing them I wanted to go for a cuckoo wasp meets tropical plants vibe, since  most people think of butterflies when thinking of vivid insects, but wasps and other less pleasant ones can be just as colorful. 

Their size on average is between a wolf and a tiger. The black dot above its shoulder is one of its eyes. Its brain is also in its bust/chest. The “head” is just the mouth with a single large closable nostril above it. The mouth is hidden between two folded arm-like mandibles with clawed hands at the end, each hand has 3 fingers. They use these to grab smaller prey and bring it to the mouth which looks like something between a beak and teeth. It can turn its eyes inside (similarly to sharks) to protect them and also bring a harder shell over it. 

The two spike-like appendages are actually soft and bendable, but still stiff, kinda like the tail of a dromaeosaur, they are also easily movable to any position . For their much smaller ancestors these functioned like the whiskers of cats to feel their surroundings, but they use them now to balance and help at sharp turns while running so they essentially function as the tail of big cats. These are also covered in small pores through which they can smell the air like how snakes do it with their tongue, they have an excellent smell. 

The two foldable fingers on their single back leg can be used to give better traction while running or to give a more stable support. The foldable fingers on the front can also give better traction, but are mainly for latching onto larger prey and to cause injuries.

Their ears are just before the back leg.

They are very social and live in packs of 6-7 on average. 

Reproduction: to choose who is the strongest, most ideal, they have rituals in which they stand up on their back leg and display their bright iridescent colors on their stomach and also showing off their whole body by opening up their talons making themselves as wide with their “tails” as possible. All of this usually includes a bit of roughhousing but rarely an actual fight. When one of them gets chosen after this, they use a long organ similar to the proboscis of butterflies, expandable from under their mouth to plant an egg/seed into the ground.

Which grows into something that resembles a tree but has more in common with corrals in their function. They will start to bring prey to it and put them at the base of it, after a few hours the “tree” grows and moves its roots into it and starts to digest the prey. The lifespan of a tree like this is anywhere between 2-4 years. When the tree dies they quickly plant a new one.

The body of these animals is cyclically producing 2 small flying creatures that carry the genetic material of their “parent”, they are born from behind a membrane under their tails and above the ears. These creatures have no mouth nor digestive systems so they have to be quick, their mission is to find one of those trees and fertilize it. The part wich resembles a beak has many holes in it and is actually used for smelling, their eyes are great but smell and pheromones play a big part in finding and choosing the right tree, from smell it can tell how good is the soil it was planted in, how much food it gets or how fit was the animal that planted it (they also avoid accidental incest this way). Once they found the ideal tree they use their long tongue-like appendage released from their beak-like structure to fertilize the tree through its flowers (not included in the drawing) that they grow when they grow large enough and not yet “pregnant”. After this the tree start to grow 2-3 animals in its underground “wombs”, it takes about a year but when they hatch they are already half the size of the adults, can walk, eat solid food and could even hunt in a few days if they wouldn't have to get practice in like, walking in the forest and stuff. But in a few weeks they are fully productive members of the pack once they get strong enough. They can afford to have even only 2 cubs a year because infant mortality is almost nonexistent and the young ones can serve the group very quickly.

Their colors on the stomach can be “turned off” like the skin of chameleons to not make prey animals notice them. Changes in them can also indicate health, mood and can be used for limited communication.

The inspiration for their anatomy, mainly for their eye, brain and mouth placement, was by how many fish have very expandable jaws, while their head is basically in one piece with their body. The fishes that we derived from evolved necks to have more mobility to the jaw, but what if some other fish would rather just made the jaw more and more flexible while it could leave the head still in one piece with the body.

Of course males and females are not a thing for them.

[crevicedwelling]

I have a pretty bad fear of wasps. Nothing crippling, I can observe them from a distance just fine, but it does make being outside on warm, sunny days a stressful experience. I want to work on it, because I know they're just like any other animal: they're just minding their own business 99% of the time, they're not out to get you, and they deserve a place on this world as much as any other. And I know some can even learn to recognize/"befriend" people, which I think is super cool. I actually followed your blog partially because you post about wasps and I knew it would help to regularly expose myself to wasps that way.

I still sometimes freeze up or get really jumpy when I see a wasp near me. But I can tell I've been getting better. Just the other day I went to the Renaissance Festival and was carrying around a big cup of mead (a.k.a. wasp attractant) and, yeah, I was followed by a couple wasps. At one point two of them just hung out on the inside of the cup for like five solid minutes licking it clean.

If it weren't for your blog I would've been so terrified I probably would've thrown the cup onto the ground and waited from like twenty feet away for the wasps to leave. But I DIDN'T. I carried it around with me and patiently (and anxiously) waited for the wasps to fly away whenever they did show up.

It's really hard to make myself just stay still when I see a wasp near me. Earlier today I could only do so for maybe 30 seconds before I had to stand up and wait nearby for it to leave. But I'm really trying to get over that fear, and I'm slowly getting better, and I think I owe your blog quite a bit in that regard. So, thank you.

I believe the most common wasp here (at least, the one I was dealing with in those two anecdotes) is some kind of Vespula yellowjacket, probably Vespula maculifrons. So... I dunno, if you have any fun facts or pictures or videos about yellowjackets (either V. maculifrons or yellowjackets in general), I'd love to hear/see those. And if not, that's okay too <3

I think a fun fact that most don’t appreciate about yellowjackets is how much they parasitize one another!

Vespula maculifrons here is a widespread, common species in eastern North America. queens of this species do the usual overwinter under log, find a hole, make a nest deal. they scavenge, they hunt, they feed on nectar. pretty standard Vespula.

V. squamosa is a species that’s very common locally, and when you see workers out and about they act much like other yellowjackets. however, their queens (no photo) are huge, hornet-sized orange wasps quite different from the workers. curiously, V. squamosa don’t make their own nests about 85% of the time. instead, most of those big bruiser queens wait a few weeks longer to come out of hiding, and track down a new Vespula maculifrons nest founded earlier in spring. she’ll march into the smaller species’ nest, chew the original queen to pieces, and bully her daughter workers into submission. she then lays her own eggs in the nest, and produces her own workers who forage alongside the V. maculifrons workers, and over time the colony becomes only made up of V. squamosa. V. squamosa will even take over nests that have already been usurped by another facultative parasite, V. flavopilosa, which usually targets V. maculifrons as well!

in the warmera south, V. squamosa nests can become massive superstructures housing dozens of queens, used year after year. if you’ll allow me a moment of poetic speculation, most of these ancient castles must therefore contain the remnants of a tiny V. maculifrons nest at their core, the gnawed ruins of a conquered house.

[knockknoxwho]

Wasps

(This one is a bit of a cop out I won’t lie, but it does make sense as far as many wasps behaviors and such. Also I think if I sized them up or made them any more angry, all humans, animals, and structures would cease to exist in a very bloody massacre). The wasp is a very dangerous species in this world. As with many species they reside in the ground, but instead of having underground nests this mutated version has a habit of burrowing in groups then falling into a deep hibernation just feet away from each other.

Seasonal habits

This species—unlike others—responded to the lack of energy via a long hibernation to sustain its life and slowly mend its body. This hibernation lasts for most of the year (from spring to the beginning of winter). The campaign begins in March at the beginning of spring, so they won’t encounter this bug until they either wake it up very rudely or it wakes up on its own. The species awakes in this cycle in order to avoid being frozen into the ground.

Mutations

These not-so-little creatures have grown to a decent size of 2 feet in length, and attached to their rather bombastic stingers is now a bomb. More accurately it is a couple of fluid sacs in which lies two chemicals. These two spontaneously react in a very explosive way when mixed. The wasps now removable and barbed stinger has been attached to tissue which, when ripped out also tears the two sacs which are pushed together and create a Grenade-like explosion that propels the stinger through whatever danger it attacked. This ends up pushing a new hole into the attacker as well as heavy explosive damage and chemical burns.

Misc.

The combination of these factors create biotic minefields around the plain patches of the town and the hill country surrounding it, making new hazards and issues for the players to navigate and consider. As well as a very powerful makeshift explosive device that can be crafted once gangs and militias have stolen the military supplies from surrounding stores. A resource which provides high risk as well as high reward.

As a reproduction method wasps also use their explosion to spread the fungus’s spores, as well as giving their own eggs the chance to feed on their own and their prey’s body once hatching.

(Tw death)

My friend and I went out to the old field next to the Amazon center. We were planning on scraping out the last of the goods it could supply, but everything went so, so wrong. We started off our journey over by the highway. Snuck down and made sure to keep out of sight from the crow scouts and vultures. In full camo and burning up in the underbrush, but we persevered. It was just outside the chain fence. When we crossed over the field filled with a bunch of these little dirt mounds. I crossed over first, fast and silent, I gestured for my buddy to come too. But just when he was running through, I saw him slam down on one of those mounds. It didn’t take it too kindly, and burst up from under the ground. Its antenna seemed to be broken and it was furious. I couldn’t even yell out to him before I saw its stinger push through his chest. As he fell to his knees the damned thing exploded. Chunks of him went flying, and the stinger shot through my arm. Luckily I had a med bag, so I got out, but I’ll never forget how gruesome that Yellowjacket left him. I made sure to never go out near those mounds again.

[gigglealongshiney-shadow-watcher]

Necessary.

Christine turned at the tone in the air. A leader was calling her. The short woman turned to find it. She broke from her previous instruction to follow the unbroken notes.

This part of the city was empty, they had cleared the houses on their way through and were getting ready for a counterstrike against the incoming military. Christine dance-walked in the middle of the street and returned the call with her own.

Come closer, I need you for something. It said.

A small girl came from the side of an alleyway, still singing. She didn't recognize this leader. Never disobey your leader. They came together in the halfway point. The leader's shoes had sharp points sticking out under the soles. She stood at attention.

Through the hive she reached out to her leader. What do you need me for?

Closer, you need to be closer, come close now. Never doubt, never resist.

Christine stood inches away from her leader and bent down to meet her eyes. Is this better?

The leader didn't answer her and instead changed her song from a Call to a Directing Hum. Dance with me, you should want to dance with me now and forever.

The Directions are clear. Christine happily hums her acceptance of the command. Of course. What is our dance?

Let our hearts beat together! Listen to the music around you! Follow me, follow my lead, listen to me, take my hand and do not think. Do not think. Do not think. She touched the palm of her hand to Christine's forehead and repeated the instructions, swaying into the start of her dance.

Thoughts faded away under the warmth of easy commands to follow. Leader took them in circles, around and around, steps in sync, legs raising, then lowering, up and down. Like the tides on the shoreline, they moved back and forth.

Don't think about anything else. Don't see anything else. Shut your eyes to the world. Only me, only you, only us. Do not feel anything but the song.

It was good to listen, and she was rewarded for every correct movement, and for every bit of awareness she lost. Sinking deep into the hive was the right thing to do. The dance could go on for years with no changes in her.

What is your name? Say it with your voice.

"Christine."

The leader looked into her eyes. She could see only her leader. Weightlessness enveloped her body and she was unable to process the regret in her leader's eyes.

"Christine..." The leader suddenly dipped her low. "I'm sorry."

Opal finished the dip 72 feet in the air,

and

down

she

fell.

(Warnings for graphic descriptions of dissection, religious imagery, cannibalism, violence, referenced child harm, self harm, disturbing imagery, limb regrowth)

Christine was still locked into the thoughtless obedience she'd been instructed to enter and couldn't feel the fear of plummeting from the sky. Opal didn't let her suffer. She couldn't see the stars that sparkled cruelly above her, closer than they'd ever been in her life, and rapidly moving away from her with every passing millisecond. The waxing gibbous was blocked out suddenly. Opal came down far faster than she could fall, and feet-first, the visage of a diving wasp, severed Christine's head from her body. Dead long before she hit the ground.

Opal seized the falling corpse and stabbed into it with her pointed feet. She wildly kicked it and tore holes in its torso, and fabric fell away and floated down far slower. It was in the way. Out of it gushed blue blood that she quickly folded the body to avoid losing more of as they descended.

Opal laid the body once named Christine down and pulled her knives free of her shoes. She felt less guilty when she used her feet to take off the head. She didn't let herself consider why, she just used it to try and lessen the awful feeling in her chest. Opal cut away swaths of the body's skin and muscles carefully and set them into a neat pile to collect later.

Once she had the flesh out of the way, she reached in and snapped the rib-cage open and placed the bones next to the swaths. They broke easily in Opal's grip, and the organs floated into the main body. The hive didn't need intestines because they never ate, so those were often removed or simply never healed back until the cavity was empty. Unlike a human, these were useless. They were only there as remnants of the once human body.

She stuck her hand into the flayed torso and submerged it into the freezing cold liquid that should've boiled her hand in retaliation for the evil she'd just committed.

She watched the glow begin to fade and dull with every passing minute since her death. It was too reflective for what it was, and she saw the glitter of stars and the moon shine up from the body. The Hive came from out of this world, even when contained in Earthly bodies. She would not let this go to waste.

Opal pulled her hand out slowly and let it pour back into the pool until the stream became the occasional drip. Under the goo she could feel her hand absorbing it, anticipation buzzing under her skin. All the little cuts and bruises and pains she'd gained smoothed out and healed with an icy hot feeling of rightness. It spread down her arm, fading the farther it got.

It was always the fading feeling that drove her to the final preparations. That maddening sense that she needed more, and that she wouldn't be complete until she'd consumed it.

She needed it.

Opal closed her eyes and spoke solemnly, like the preachers she shared memories with once. "Thank you Christine, for your sacrifice to continue my life. Your name will always be held close to the heart that you keep beating with your blood. May you be free of the hive in the afterlife, if there is one, and let the joy you felt in your last moments carry on forever."

Just eating with her hand for the first moments was too disrespectful, so Opal scraped off some of it with the knife, holding it in her teeth. It didn't matter if she cut her hand because it immediately healed with another burst of beautiful ice and fire. Taking it out of her mouth with her hand, she looked at it. She took a deep breath, thanked her savior for their body again, and stuck the knife in her mouth.

Immediately her voice kicked to life with an uncontrollable song. She ignored her own sounds and let the ice wash into her. It wasn't enough to do more than soothe the lingering ache of her panicked screaming in the hallway.

More.

Opal licked as much as she could off her hand until it was simply blue stained skin instead. She knew what to do. Taking another handful and drinking the excess, she rubbed at the open hole in her arm carefully.

The buzz rose too fast, there was too much to fix to be slow. Fix, fix it now, heal now, fix heal fix it now- Opal lost her composure in the sudden onslaught of need to get her hand back, and plunged the stump into the body with enough force for some of it to spill over the sides.

Her entire body shook with the familiar feeling of regrowth. This wasn't the first time or that last she'd need to get limbs back. She cupped the blue in her good hand and drank while she watched her hand form.

Blue bones growing like tree roots weaved their way in place, with the beginnings of sinew and muscle stretching spider webs between her fingers. It was mesmerizing to watch happen, and Opal could feel everything the new hand did. It connected to her brain and she let her other arm go limp as euphoria came over her.

The hand crackled and sparked with magic and heat that immediately met the freezing cold of the blue, creating steam and melting the flesh again and again until it would perfectly meld with her left arm. It shook with energy and that icy hot healing crept up into every ache and sting and cut she'd been subjected to up to her shoulder. The sound was sickening and visceral to anyone but Opal. She sang to the rhythm of the growth and waved her arms around, still perched on the body. She whooped with joy and clapped, turning to Marceggle and laughing. "Look!" They watched her with a fascinated excitement and pumped their arm in the air.

"Fuck yeah! Let 'em have it you funky bug! You're hardcore as shit!"

Opal grinned and rubbed her hands together, basically lathering them in blue. "Thank you for not hating me." That put a damper on her joy, and she looked at the body she was sitting on the legs of. "...Thank you."

"Hey now, don't let your broken head bring you down! Enjoy yourself Opal, you deserve a little fun. This is healthier than holding back all the time, I promise." Marceggle called encouragingly.

Opal took a deep breath, which was something Christine hadn't been able to do in years. She never would. Of course, she should be respectful to the body. This wasn't a funny game she could just laugh about. Still, as she focused on continuing the ritual, a smile stayed on her face.

With her hand complete, she leaned over the body and cupped the liquid in her hands, and brought it to her mouth to drink. It would take time, but she was diligent.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The frailty that Marceggle hadn't even noticed was gone. Her muscles were bigger and more full. Nothing too strange for a child, but she practically looked invincible compared to her previous look. Her legs looked sturdier and thicker. The arms had more flesh on them. Her hands weren't so bony and twitchy, like she was about to grab someone's neck. (Or how it looked to Marceggle). Opal had been wasting away, and only Paradise and Shiney would have known.

Her friend looked on and watched with a sickly form of fascination as the tiny child grew back a healthy form in real time. Her cheeks filled out, and her face returned to a more childish roundness. Had anyone even noticed her face was pretty gaunt for a little girl? Her hair shimmered with a blue sheen and looked more like a doll's hair with how perfect it was.

Her eyes were both a powerfully glowing blue, but Opal wasn't part of the hive. She was a parasite, feeding off the blue liquid necessary for her survival. She dug into the open chest of whoever this lady was again, and pulled out what looked like a solid, blue rock version of a liver. Opal bit through the bottom and spit out the bit of blue rock. Goo poured out of the thing and she drank from it like a canteen. Then she turned it upside down and pulled out actual real bottles. Each one she filled went behind her back again and into hammerspace.

Between gulps and bites, a sickening song warbled out of her mouth. It was off-key and out of tune. It sounded like a talker toy's last moments as the batteries died, and the voice got more and more fucked up. As if Opal or the hive or the goop itself was trying to reject what was happening.

She repeated the process with more of the facsimiles of organs. Opal would drink, fill up the bottles, and place the mostly empty organ rock to the side. Both lungs had enough to last her quite some time.

Opal still didn't stop. She emptied the body of everything she could and bottled it up. Once she finished the chest, she sliced open the limbs and stuck a thin tube into the hole and drained them into the bottles.

Tears dripped down her face, but she had a faint smile too. Marceggle just held her bag out of the way of any splatter. It was terrible, and absolutely beautiful to them. A twisted act of kindness to keep as little of her kill from going to waste as possible. The more she got now, the longer it would be before she had to kill again.

They watched from the song trap to the deadly dance into the sky, and all the way to her slicing this thing's head off with her pointed stinger. It was a display of cruelty that made them a little teary-eyed themself. Tinky would be so proud of her. They hoped some of the feral, wild animal tearing open of the body from the start was inspired by Marceggle's influence. They couldn't have been happier for her, embracing her inner monster like this. A true Spawn of the Black in their eyes!

Opal sat back on her haunches and looked over her handiwork. There was a cracking sound as her hands pressed against the ground to the sides of the body and she stretched her back into the air with a groan. Up she went, more joints cracking and more limbs shaking. A satisfied noises cut off the weird song and she stretched herself out.

"Are you done now?"

Opal cracked her jaw and felt her left arm. "I need to bury her...and do one more thing. You might want to look away." Out of her hammerspace she pulled out a cloth and tied it around her elbow as tightly as she could. "I need to do it while I'm still unable to feel pain." She pulled out a bowl and mixed something clear into it with some of the left over blue. With her knife she cut a slit in her arm and started sucking the blue out out of her arm.

"What are you doing?"

"Making sure it won't heal more than I want it to."

Once the arm was sufficiently empty, she pulled out a few carving tools. With one last glance at her friend, she started to carve and shape scars into her arm. Marceggle watched her cut vine and flower patterns with tools varying in thickness.

Opal didn't flinch once, and instead reached into the bowl and slathered the clear stuff all over her arm. "This makes the scars stay in place after I heal the ugly bits. Like a sealant. They're gonna be pretty blue flowers all over my arm."

Marceggle clapped. "You tattoo yourself with knifes? Metal. How come you didn't have any of that before?"

"I...Wanted to remember today every time I look to my left. It's what Christine would've wanted. This way I'll look extra pretty in honor of her." She paused. "Should I add a J to remind myself to steer clear of him?"

"Nah, that's like getting a tattoo of your ex. Lame."

"...Ok. You promise you don't hate me for everything I did? I know it's disgusting and wrong and-"

They cut her off and sat next to her. "You kidding? That was the most brutal thing I've ever seen you do. My respect just skyrocketed for you. Opal, you are a little buggy beast!"

Opal...looked sad for some forsaken reason. "We need to bury her properly. Can you help me dig into that grass strip over there while I collect her?" She untied the cloth and rubbed the 'blood' back into her arm.

"Yeah sure."

Marceggle turned to start digging while Opal carefully replaced all the fake organs into the hollowed out chest cavity and stacked the swaths of skin over them. "The body will never rot, so she needs to have as much of her together as she can." Opal explained, smearing some Pokey goo across a skin piece. She drew a C on it and set it on the top of the pile before carrying the body to the hole. "Humans used to do things like this, with royalty in the desert I think. They put the guts in jars and made sure they'd get saved for years and years. I don't have any special jars so I just try to put them back in nicely."

Into the hole she went, and under the dirt she was buried. Opal pulled a wooden sign from behind her back and carved the name Christine into it. She stuck it where her head would've been. "There. Now she gets a person burial like she deserves. She took my place in the ground, and so she gets the ceremony I would've wanted. Like Phillip, she can be treated like the human she never got to die as."

They looked at the grave together, and Opal took her friend's hand. "...Marceggle? Would you be bored if we went somewhere quiet for me to sleep until the time of mourning is done? It'll be a few hours."

"Yeah, I'd be bored as shit." They smacked her on the back. "We'll meet up once you're done, kay? Just drop me off at the bar on the way."

Opal nodded and rubbed where her wing had been hit. "Of course, I don't want to force you to stay when I won't be awake... Let's go."

"Good, because watching people sleep is crazy boring." Marceggle waved goodbye to their friend. "See you soon, you batshit dragonfly!"

"...Goodbye!"

Opal curled up on her favorite spot on a distant beach. Far away from Hatchetfield, on the coast of the Saud beach, was a wide hammock with some sandy pillows sitting on it. Here, the waves could wash away her feelings, and the tides could pull all the music out of her head. It was quiet here, but not too quiet. The beach was its own instrument that lulled her to a tear stained sleep.

It was finished.

[pbandjesse]

Today was a super productive day and I want to be proud of it even if it kind of was soured at the end. I'm going to try and be positive though because it was a good day.

I slept a little easier last night. Because I took a melatonin. And I was able to sleep an extra half hour. Which was great. When I got up James was getting ready to leave. Smooch goodbye. And I finished getting ready. I changed the totebag James put my lunch in. And then I was off. James had put the vacuum in the car for me. So once I made it to work, after a fine drive in, I would finish cleaning the car. The vacuum isn't as strong as it could be but it got a lot of the nature grit out of the carpet at least.

I had a thought about hanging my hammock from the rafters in the art building. So after I painted another layer on my MWEE sticks I hung it up. And it's a little high off the ground, and a little precarious but it works! I am very pleased about this development. Though I do think it's funny that I have not considered this in 4 years.

I headed to the office and Heather and me would jump into the gator and deliver a wheelbarrow and some shovels and rakes to the tipi field. And then she dropped me off at the office before she went to start meeting the volunteers from BGE at the lodge.

I would grab my pliers and phone and drink and walked over there too. I would tell her about internet drama and algorithms and she was shocked about things like dog whistles and the manosphere. I will be the internet touchstone for camp. Make sure the kids aren't saying horrible things

It took a while for all the volunteers to come through. I directed them to sign up for different areas. And soon we were getting a safety speech from the woman who organized the project. And then we were breaking up into our groups and we were off.

I have 7 people working with me. And they were lovely. I would point out everything and go through our list of things to do. Which I think may have overwhelmed them a bit. One of them said we should work on one at a time. Which was fair. I asked for us to work on the construction debris behind the chicken run. And they did such a good job!! We worked together and they got all of it out and up to the top of the hill. I had a few of them cutting things down with the sawzalls they had and one nice guy got the slide lock off the old door and installed it on the gate like I wanted.

It wasn't all perfect though. There wasn't a way for us to salvage the bird net. And then when two of my guys were moving a log disturbed a ground wasp nests. Got stung twice. Thankfully the one that was allergic to bees ran away and was not stung. But man I felt bad someone got hurt.

We were terribly productive though. We got everything on my list done. The construction pile at nature. The holes filled. The rocks moved. I was so proud of us. Sarah would be driving the truck back and forth collecting all the debris. And her group would also get all the same moved and the beds stored in the basement and it was just great. We were making such good progress.

I would send most of my group and her group to go move the rocking chairs to the porch. I had slide them all down the to the drive way but I couldn't pick them up so I would leave them to it.

The person delivering the lunch was up there and I would help him out and sign for the food. I called Heather to make sure that was okay and what to tip him. Because I was like. I don't know if I'm allowed to tip you because it wasn't my money but I got a number and was able to pay him and it all worked out.

Me and Sarah would grab two guys from my team and they helped us get the last few rail road ties and then load up ten 75lbs into the truck. Those two guys were gems for helping through the first few minutes of lunch. Me and then would walk back to the lodge while Sarah drove the truck to the office where we would toss the concrete later.

I set up two more tables because I didn't think there was enough seats. And hung out with Elizabeth and Heather and had sodas while we talked about what got accomplished. I was super proud of us.

We were able to have some pizza and salad too. And I made sure we saved some for Sarah. But soon Sarah and Chloe would join us.

I didn't expect to be so tired. We would just sit and be so tired while everyone else finished eating and went outside for a group photo. Me and Chloe talked a out the ceramic class. My guess was right and only me and her are signed up right now. We need at least one more person to sign up. We are trying to convince Sarah. Maybe we could get Heather in too. We will see what happens. Fingers crossed.

I would drive the gator up to the Hogan to move the benches inside and take the new sand. The space looks so good. I'm really happy. Moving the benches was heavy work but I got it done.

I drove up to stockade to grab something I left in Hudson bay and was still so happy with how clean it was. And the. To the art building.

I put some stuff away and chilled in the hammock for a few minutes. But eventually I wandered to the office.

Where I came into angry words. Joe was not happy about some of the projects that were done today. And he was no speaking as kindly as I would have wanted. Like don't speak unkindly to Heather. She looked so sad. We were so excited and he didn't even want to see what we accomplished. He just wanted to be mad about what wasn't done or that things weren't done the way he wanted. And like I really like Joe! But I felt like he was throwing a tantrum. He stormed out and Heather literally had teary eyes. So I was frustrated by that.

Me and Sarah discussed our Friday plans since we will be here alone. But because now we were trying to calm down hurt feelings we needed to go collect tools and things right then. We drove around camp and collected tools and buckets and tarps. Which was fine. I was staying a little later since I came in later. I was feeling some kind of way though.

We ran into Rachel and Aubrey and it was nice to see them. We got to show them our hard work and they made us feel good about it. We would soon say goodbye to them though and headed to the dumpster. Where we found Joe climbing around. Probably seeing if there was wood he wanted. But everything was full of nail and had been outside in piles for over a year and some was there for 3+ years so if you actually wanted it you had time to get it. But whatever. I just hope he didn't hurt himself.

Me and Sarah would finish up the stuff we needed. Except for the tarps. Because they are damp and I'm not sure what to do with those. I thought we could lay them on the field but unsure if that was done the way I wanted. But it's all good we'll figure it out tomorrow.

For the last thing of the day I took a video of Elizabeth pulling the raffle name out of a pumpkin. We are happy for the winner even if we didn't know who this person was. Still really exciting.

I went home after that. And got stuck in some traffic. With people who can't merge. But it's fine. I was home before 530. I was a little frustrated bringing things inside because I kept dropping my keys. James yelled down from our window but they did not come down and help but I forgive them.

They were making dough. They would have pizza for dinner. I opted for a salad later on. For the first hour I was home I just wanted to lay on the couch and hear about their day.

We would clean the kitty litter. And James got the vacuum from the car because I hadn't brought that in. And they would play DND and make me a salad. And eventually I would keep working on catching snails (and snail eggs) from the frog tank. I cleaned that for a bit. And once that was to a good enough place I went and took a shower.

Now I am cozy in bed with James and Sweetp. I need to go lotion my face but I am tired and ready to sleep. Thankfully my body isn't aching to bad but it is surprisingly warm in here. I hope a fan helps.

Tomorrow we have indigo back. And I'm looking forward to it in ways. And not in other ways. But it will be good. I hope. I'm looking forward to seeing Celia.

I hope you all have a good night. Take csre of each other. Sleep well. Until next time.

[iatrophilosophos]

Started 2 believe that wasp stings r (at least from what I can observe) a random act of violence and entirely unrelated to my behavior around wasps.

I didn't even *see* the mfer currently causing my insomnia (stung me in the neck while I was just standing there and caused a bunch of weird muscle stiffness and tension pain); nor the wasp that stung me under my finger nail the other week. And then there was the particularly dumb yellow jacket who decided to land on the innermost corner of the fold between my ass and thigh right as I moved.

I interact with wasps all day every day (currently in bed like 20 feet from what I'm p sure are hornets in ones them classic huge paper lantern type nests hanging from a tree and like three feet from a yellow jacket hole in the ground) and it's fine, u just wave them away when they get too close and whatnot. I don't think I've ever like, been aware of an aggressive wasp and tried to get away from it here. Mfers just come out of nowhere sometimes

[saintsofwarding]

WE SHALL BE MONSTERS

Header by keltii-tea

Chapter 9: A Fox in Sheep’s Clothing

By the time Mia started to wake up, Heisenberg had just about run the gamut of every insult he could fling at her.

While she lay unconscious he'd paced back and forth, muttering under his breath, shaking his head, stumbling on the jagged fall of rocks the helicopter was currently strewn over. It lay there, a beached, gutted whale, spitting black smoke once the engine caught fire.

Heisenberg had stood, staring at it, yearning for a cigar, pawing through his pockets as if one might materialize, and when one didn't, he spent a good thirty minutes ripping apart the remains of the burning helicopter with his power and smashing the pieces into fragments of metal.

Now, he collapsed on a rock, breathing hard through clenched teeth, and waited. The sky was pale and hard as a sheet of ice, a light snowfall dusting the mountainside and stunted, twisted pines surrounding the crash site. The furrow of dark earth carved into the ground by the crashing helicopter had already frozen solid.

The wilderness rang around him, vast and silent.

For now, anyway.

He hunched down into his trench coat, hands deep in his pockets, eyes narrowed as he stared at Mia Winters, unconscious before him like a soldat seconds before its reactor kicked in.

Mia lay sprawled on a piece of metal scavenged from the helicopter. Her gray-brown hair was tangled around her shoulders, her lips slightly parted, blood dripping from a gash on her forehead. Her bullet wound had already sealed up, just a pucker of scar tissue over her sternum. Heisenberg leaned over his knees, watching her, waiting.

He could make out, faint as a wasp's hum, her heartbeat. His Cadou turned over inside him, a restless movement, echoing his own impatience.

He wanted to be proved right, and he wanted it now.

How'd you hide that secret from Chris, then? he wondered. But then again, they'd never cottoned to Ethan's little mold problem. Maybe the BSAA weren't as all-seeing and thorough as they liked to pretend to be.

To be fair, neither was he. His plans, inevitably, fell apart at the seams, carefully-constructed though they may be, and he'd had to get good at improvising. Easy, when one was as fond of explosions and rusty buzzsaws and spectacle as he was.

Now, there was no chance of buzzsaws or spectacle. This place was bleak as an old bone. As for explosions- well. The helicopter flames were already dying out.

Soon, the cold would get in.

Mia stirred. She twitched. Her lashes fluttered. Heisenberg didn't move from his rock as her eyes opened, as she stared up at the pale sky.

"Wake up, Mia," Heisenberg said. "You fucked up big time."

"Heis..." she rasped.

She gasped, then scrambled onto her hands and knees, reaching for her back. She touched the ragged hole in her sweater and froze.

"Yeah," Heisenberg said. He spread his hands. "What's with that?"

She put her hand down and, slowly, sank onto her haunches. "Get the hell away from me."

"Nothing doing. You owe me one, sweetheart. I saved your life."

"I don't- I don't want your pity, okay?" She shot a fiery glare at him, her hazel eyes bright in the frozen sunlight. "I'd rather freeze."

"Nothing so nice," Heisenberg said. "You would've been picked back up by Ouroboros. What, I wonder, would they have done to you when your dumbassery led to their pet Lord of the Village getting loose?"

He hooked a thumb toward himself and flashed her a grin. "Hm. Maybe you have a point. I'd sure as hell rather freeze than...whatever that would be."

"Oh, god," Mia whispered, bringing her hands to her face and running them through her hair. "Oh god. I did fuck up, didn't I."

"Yep."

"And now?"

"...Now?"

"If you're gonna kill me, kill me."

"You think I want to kill you? Mia. If I wanted you dead I'd have carried out my threat, broke your neck while you were unconscious."

"Why didn't you?" She tilted her head. A challenge. "After everything I did to you?"

His grin widened. "You were useful, weren't you? It's not every day a hostage falls right into your hands."

"Then why not leave me after you got to the helicopter?"

"Because Ouroboros doesn't get to kill you," he said. "Anyone gets to, after all the shit you pulled, it's me."

Mia stared at him for a good five-count, her face blank of expression. Then she gave a weary snort.

"Go on," she said. "Do your worst."

"Seriously? Thought you were a fighter. After hearing about your three years at the Baker estate, I assumed...well. Maybe I pegged you wrong."

"No." Mia faced him, climbing shakily to her feet. "No. That was a threat, Heisenberg. Go on. Do your worst. Can't be any worse than what you've already done-"

"Eh, you've got a point there."

"You stole my daughter." She staggered forward, her face hollow, her eyes ablaze. "You...you let me and so many others get tortured-"

Another step, her hands curling into fists. "You murdered my husband!"

She flung herself at him, the word fraying into a guttural howl. Heisenberg grabbed her by her wrists as she took a swing; she jerked to a halt with a little snarl, twisting against his grip. She was pretty strong- all that terrorist-organization combat training, he assumed- but he still had the Cadou on his side. He flung her off; she stumbled on the rocky ground, but came up with fists raised, the blood from her head wound streaking down her face and matting her hair.

"Mia-" Heisenberg said. He jerked to his feet, ducking her next punch. "Mia, I didn't fucking kill Ethan."

She stopped, panting. Blood dripped from her chin, her eyes bright with tears. "W...what?" she said.

"I didn't kill Ethan, all right? I was trying to get a rise out of you, and you fell for it like a bitch. I didn't fucking- dammit, Mia, Miranda killed Ethan. She and Redfield's huge-ass bomb that splatted her and the megamycete over the whole valley. Ethan was crystallizing. Dying already. Wanted to make the end mean something. For you. For fuckin'- everyone."

He paused. "For Rose."

Mia still breathed hard, slightly crouched. She scrubbed her knuckles over her mouth. "You're lying."

"Believe what you want to, sweetheart."

"He would never...give Rose to you."

"Desperate times. Redfield was off holding back the lycans. No one else was there to give her to." He couldn't resist another grin, showing off a hint of incisor. "Besides, Mia, don't I look the trustworthy type?"

Mia gave him a black look, but she backed off. She slumped onto a rock.

Heisenberg sidled over, standing on the edge of the slope, watching the snowfall creep closer and closer by the minute.

"So," he said.

She gave no response.

"Miranda did a number on you, didn't she?"

Nothing. He glanced sidelong at her.

"Oh, come on, Mia," he said. "It's just you and me. No one else to pour out your dirty little secrets to. No one else to overhear."

"You're despicable," she muttered.

"Yes, and?" He paused. "You embarrassed about it or something?"

"I'd rather not think about it."

"Sure, sure. I get it, Mia, I really do. When Miranda took a bonesaw to my ribs I didn't like to think about it either. I was just a kid, though. Maybe. Details are fuzzy. But I do remember what it felt like when she reached inside me and took parts of me out. And when she put something new inside. Something that wasn't me. I remember the way it moved and settled and curled up inside me. Like it was always meant to be there."

He stopped. His voice had dropped to a low, raspy growl. Mia was looking at him, now. He couldn't tell for how long.

"You were a little boy when she gave you that...thing?" she asked.

"The Cadou. Means-"

"-Gift," she finished, with a small, bitter laugh. "Yeah. I definitely looked that one up on google translate."

"I bet you did. So what about you?" Heisenberg said. He faced her fully again, hands stuffed deep in his coat pockets. "She didn't implant the Cadou in you, that's for sure. But she did something, all right."

"What tipped you off?"

"Besides you surviving a gunshot wound that should have cracked your sternum like an egg? Huh, how about your remarkable anti-aging regimen?"

She touched her cheek.

"She experimented on me," she said, after a pause. "She...injected me with...I don't know what was in that syringe. I thought I saw it wriggling under my skin, but...it could have been the drugs. I'm not sure. She kept me sedated some of the time. The rest, when I was more alert...she didn't talk to me. I was like..."

"Like an animal?" Heisenberg said.

Mia lowered her head. She hugged her arms around herself. The last of the flames from the burning helicopter died down, and the snow began to fall in earnest, blurring even the closest trees to gray shadows. Heisenberg had his coat, and could withstand the cold pretty long, but Mia just had her sweater.

"Listen," Heisenberg said. "Do what you want. Stay here if you want. I'm gonna go clean up your mess."

"Take on Ouroboros alone?"

"Yeah."

With that, he began away. He heard Mia scramble to her feet. "You won't get far," she called.

"Uh-huh."

"You know what this is?"

Heisenberg looked back. She'd lifted her arm, showing off the fancy-looking electronic watch thing she'd controlled his harness with, back on the ship. A small red light pipped on it.

"I don't know that shit," Heisenberg said.

"Among other things, it's a distress beacon," Mia said. She lowered her hand. "Ouroboros has a fix on us, now. It'll be a while in this snow, but they'll come for us-"

Heisenberg snapped the watch from her wrist and brought it hovering into the air between them. Mia didn't flinch; maybe she'd expected the move.

"I wouldn't," Mia said. "Break that, I mean."

"Oh, yeah?"

"When I injected you on the helicopter-"

"Knocked me the fuck out, you mean?"

"I did more than that." She lowered her head. Her tear-worn features, in the deepening shadows, took on a sly cast. Heisenberg began to see just how Mia Winters had evaded years upon years of consequences for all the bad shit she'd been a part of. A wolf in sheep's clothing, indeed. Or, maybe, a fox.

"That syringe was full of a slow-acting necrotoxin," she went on. "Developed to maintain control over bioweapons we loaned out to our various clients. We injected the creatures with that substance before sending them out. If the bioweapon wasn't returned within the agreed-upon timescale...full system meltdown."

Heisenberg's pulse hammered, his Cadou giving little spasms of anxiety in time. His mouth was dry. The necrotoxin, already beginning its work? Or just the sickening acceptance that someone had gotten one over him?

"You're lying," he said.

Mia smiled.

"Believe what you want to," she said. "Sweetheart."

"So- what? What's your play?"

"Ouroboros has the anti-toxin. They pick me up, alive and well, they'll administer it to you."

"You're sure about that?"

"I think it's you who should be worried."

Heisenberg advanced on her, stopping just short of running straight into her. She looked up, into his face. Even through a hostage situation, a gunshot wound, a helicopter crash, and a fistfight with a magnetic mutant on some godforsaken Romanian mountainside, she still smelled pretty damn good.

Fuck her. Fuck all of this. Little shards of metal rose from the rocks, orbiting around him as he stared down at her.

"How long?" he said.

"A few days."

"Good." He eased one of the metal shards forward, letting it draw a fine line down the smooth skin of her cheek. Her lips trembled, but she didn't back down. "Plenty of time."

He turned and began away, letting a few metal shards slip into his pockets before dropping control over the rest.

"Plenty of time for what?" he heard Mia yell from behind him.

"For me to get to the village and do what I need to do! I know it's tough, Mia, but do try to listen when I say things!"

The sound of crashing metal came from her direction. He looked back in time to see her emerge from the remains of the burned-out, smashed-up helicopter with a sleek, strange-looking rifle. Loaded, no doubt, with more of those anti-BOW rounds.

"Gonna shoot me?" Heisenberg called.

"No. Ouroboros would really make me into buzzard bait if I did that. You, unlike me, are a valuable asset."

"A valuable asset you just pumped poison into. You're betting the farm on this whole distress call maneuver, aren't you?"

She blew a plume of ash off the rifle barrel, watching the black dust swirl into the breeze. "And you'd better hope I win."

***

They set out into the wilderness.

This was familiar, Heisenberg thought, getting into the swing of things. Mia hiked along with her shiny new rifle shouldered and her affect grim, doing a good job to not look affected by the cold. While neither he nor his siblings could leave the valley boundaries, the ancient saintly statues Miranda had enforced as the perimeter- the limits, perhaps, of her power- there was plenty of wilderness between them and the village, plenty of woods and chasms, caves and cliffs to wander through.

As much as he'd craved the drowning, single-minded oblivion of the work he did in his factory, weeks or months on end of arms gloved in corpses and steaming piles of organs replaced with polycrystal and metal, he was a creature of extremes, after all, and he craved silence when the work at last grew too much, and the engine of his brain turned to scrabble and scrawl.

Oh, there were recollections of hunting, too, blood in the snow, lycans leaping and tearing alongside him, striking down sorry souls at his command, but here and now the memories rising to the top were ones of peace.

Necrotoxin must be getting into my temporal lobe, he thought, giving his head a little shake. Need to give myself a hard electric shock, stave it off for as long as possible. If only there were some jumper cables around. Peace wasn't in the cards for him. He couldn't think that way now. Maybe never.

He paused at an outcropping, squinting at the mountains visible through the mist.

"You on the right track?" Mia asked him.

"Yeah." He put out a hand, gauging the distance between two peaks. If he turned his head- yeah, that was it. He'd spent countless hours in the field of waist-high grass outside his factory, perched on the rusted treads of some old tank or heap of scrap, smoking a cigar and listening to the wind through the dry stalks as he stared toward the mountains surrounding the village. He knew them by now, knew them like the smell of sunsets around this place. The sting of each sun slipping below the horizon, another day longer in captivity.

Another day in the factory. Another corpse gutted. Another heart torn loose and machinery coiled in. A foreign thing, forced inside.

The work was endless, but it was all he'd ever known, and he'd loved it because it would set him free. In his darkest moments, in the black pits of his grief and rage and despair, he'd thought to himself will I ever be free, would I even recognize freedom even if I felt it.

Now, like in the factory, there was a job to get done, and he'd do it no matter what it took.

Is that what you want, Mister Heisenberg?

It didn't matter. Not now.

What about after?

But there could be no after. That was the way the world worked. Maybe Rose had a point, in her yearning for a human life- denial of self was the only way to find peace. And he would never be human again.

After the village, he thought what he'd done- saving Rose, saving himself- was redemption enough to spare him from the world. He saw now how it all came back around, how the end was as ever like the beginning.

There was no peace for him. There was no freedom for him.

Right?

Afternoon slipped stealthily into night. Mia kept her rifle at the ready. And when the howl filled the cold air, Heisenberg was almost relieved. Finally, he didn't have to do anymore thinking.

"Lycans?" was all Mia said.

"Yeah. Stay close."

"I've got this, Heisenberg-"

"I don't doubt your skills with that potato shooter of yours, Mia," he told her. "I'm saying stay close in case one blitzes us and drags you off." He looked her up and down. "Believe me. They're gonna go for you first."

She didn't argue, just pressed in, her shoulder brushing his back, her finger poised alongside the trigger. Another howl joined the first in chorus. Heisenberg searched the trees, but saw nothing- no lycan pack, no eyes glinting from the shadows. No reek of blood. Were they hunting other prey?

No.

He saw it, suddenly- the form loping alongside them, keeping several yards back. Small, ungainly; it seemed to shamble along, then pause, then keep shambling, its head bowed.

Mia's brow furrowed. "What the hell is that?" she muttered.

"Looks like a small one."

"I can get it from here-"

"Hang on." Heisenberg put his palm over her barrel. "Lycans are like sharks. You get blood on the ground, they go into a frenzy. Don't want to draw a whole pack on us."

"Oh, you couldn't handle that? I thought you were supposed to be a big deal around here. You certainly acted like it, once upon a time."

"Yeah, yeah, save it, sweetheart."

The shape shuffled around them, letting out the occasional small yip. Heisenberg stopped as it crawled ahead of them, behind a cluster of rocks jutting from the snow. He brought his hand from his coat pocket, levitating a palmful of scrap around his hand and wrist. It glinted in the half-light.

Mia inched forward, rifle trained on the rocks.

"Careful-" Heisenberg warned.

The shape emerged from over the rocks. Small, skinny, one leg withered. Its long hair fell in tatters over its face, coarse and gray. He made out the fangs jutting from its lips, and, too, the remnants of the dress the small lycan wore, an apron tied around its waist. It saw them, big eyes bright beneath its hair, small fingers curled on the snowy rock.

"It's a child," Mia whispered.

"A child lycan," Heisenberg said, with a laugh. Now that was fucked up.

"Oh, god." Mia's hands shook on the rifle. The lycan gave another little yelp, crawling over the rocks and dropping down to the snow. "No, no-"

"Mia!" Heisenberg barked, in warning, as the lycan's haunches tensed, bringing up his hand, electricity snapping between the metal shards.

The lycan leapt with a snarl; Mia stumbled back; the muzzle flash lit the trees, gunshot going wide.

Gotta do everything my goddamn self, Heisenberg thought. A hum of power blasted through the forest, shaking snow from the branches. Shrapnel pinged off the tree trunks, the rocks; the lycan fell, steaming, thrashing and clawing at its multiple small wounds before going still. Mia was on her knees, breathing hard.

"C'mon, get up-" Heisenberg grabbed her shoulders and hauled her to her feet. "We gotta move. Others will have heard- ohhh."

A half-moon of bite marks glistened on her forearm, shredding aside her sweater sleeve. As Heisenberg watched, the wound pulsated.

"Oh," he said again, this time with intrigue.

"Hurts," Mia managed. "Agh-"

She convulsed. The wound seemed to throb in time; there was definitely something in there. Heisenberg glanced at the child lycan, crumbling into crystal. Inside its open mouth writhed tentacles, as if in some grotesque last gasp at life.

He remembered his conversation with Mia onboard the ship. Miranda's little show and tell in the stronghold. So the lycans had in fact mutated without her interference. Fascinating.

Mia began to shudder under his hands. The wound rapidly blackened, flesh turning necrotic as he watched. No time to waste. He heaved her into his arms.

"Giving up already?" he said. "So disappointing."

"Y...y'dont...want to observe...this...?"

"Another time, Mia." He pulled her hair out of her face so she could see him as he grinned down at her. He gave her a little pat on the cheek. "I need you alive, don't I?"

She grew heavier as he hurried through the snow, as he broke through the treeline and onto a slope. The howls echoed louder, closer, a looping, overlapping wave of them from all directions. There. He spotted it against the otherwise-unrelenting expanse of trees and mountain: a ruin clinging to the mountainside, a single crumbled tower crowned with what looked at this distance like a stone angel. Some kind of church, then.

Good. Nice thick stone walls.

Heisenberg skidded down the slope, Mia jostling in his arms; the black putrefaction bubbled and grew as he watched, leaching the color from her skin.

Snarls filled the woods.

He picked up speed, ducking through the stone archway of the collapsed wall around the church. Claws scythed the air at Heisenberg's back; he let go of Mia as he swung around and drove his fist into the lycan's face. It snapped back with a shriek.

"Bad dog!" Heisenberg roared.

The church doorway was just beyond. A kick sent the rotted, iron-studded door banging open, blowing a cloud of dust into the gloom.

Mia gave a pained cry; black fluid oozed from the corner of her mouth, her eyes squeezed shut, lids black-veined, lashes damp with rot.

Heisenberg sent the door slamming shut, yanked two of the bolts out, fused them together into a makeshift latch. Impact shuddered against the door a few moments later, claws screeching down the aged wood.

Holding it shut with his power, he shoved aside a few of the moldering pews aside and lay Mia down on one of them. After a beat, he stuck an ancient velvet kneeler under her head. No point in concussing her- for now, anyway. Dust filtered down from the rafters as the sound of lycans crawling over the church roof echoed through, graying her hair even further. A single shaft of moonlight fell from a hole in the ceiling, giving Heisenberg enough light to work by. As the midnight moon rises on black wings...A scrap of old prayer drifting through his head. Was it still a prayer when it was spoken by God herself? Glory to...glory to...

"Dumbass," he told her. "That wasn't a kid anymore."

"I...I know that- I'm not stupid-"

"Why the fuck did you freeze up, then, huh?" He tore the shredded material of her sleeve open, exposing her arm to the air. Black veins twisted down it to the elbow. The wound itself had swollen to the size of a grapefruit, the flesh soft and mushy to the touch, pulsing with a cardiac rhythm.

"...Scared...thought...I was, I was, back in...nightmare..."

She was losing it, and fast. Muttering, Heisenberg fished the remainder of his scrap metal from his pocket and sent it swirling together into a long, pointed shape. A flexion of his power pressed it together, molding the scrap into a makeshift scalpel. Its edge shone blue-white, razor-sharp.

He floated it above his palm. He'd be more dexterous using his abilities for this. He gave Mia his belt to chew on, held her down by the shoulders as she thrashed and spasmed under him.

"Don't- move-" he ordered.

She screamed around the belt, a grating sound propelled from deep inside her guts. Fan-fucking-tastic. This was why he preferred to work on the dead. At least Teodora had done him the courtesy of laying still while he cut her open.

He lowered the scalpel to the swelling. The first cut sank in as if through butter; black fluid spurted out, hitting Heisenberg in the face. He spat it aside- tasted rancid- and kept going, splitting the growth open like a rotten tomato.

A shriek came from the wound. Nestled inside the growth, latched into Mia's arm, was a curled, tentacled thing, fetal and shapeless, screeching as the air hit it.

"Intriguing as you are," Heisenberg told it, "I need this arm attached to this body."

He jabbed the scalpel down. It skewered the parasite; the thing's keen was ear-cracking, setting his teeth on edge. With a twist and a flick of the scalpel, he ripped it off her arm and sent it splatting to the flagstones, where it oozed, trying to crawl away by its long, trailing tentacles.

"No hard feelings," Heisenberg told it, and brought his boot down on it, crushing it into sticky goo.

Mia had stopped spasming and lay, as before, sprawled, her chest rising and falling in short, quick pants, his belt trailing from her mouth.

She let it go with her teeth as he took it from her.

"Ow," she whispered.

He bent her arm up so she could see the wound, and made the hand give her a jaunty wave. "You had a little friend."

"Better...better company than...you..." She was fading fast. Heisenberg busied himself with her arm, draining the black fluid from her skin, cutting away the excess rot. But Miranda's augmentation did its job, and even as he cleaned up the wound, like he would with the rot that had infested the  bodies of so many of his prospective soldaten, it began to clot and scab itself over.

"Look at that," Heisenberg said. "You'll be all plugged up in no time."

"No..." Mia mumbled. "Don'...wanna be..."

"What was that?"

"Don't wanna be...a monster...not, not again..." She gave a little hitch of a sob. "Everyone's counting on me..."

She fell silent, her head lolling to the side. Heisenberg gave her face a poke, then made a small "Hm." of dissatisfaction.

Curious, he gave the scalpel blade, covered with her fresh blood, a lick. Hm. Didn't have the taste he usually associated with megamycete infection. What the hell had Miranda done to her?

Questions for later. He finished all he could now, then sank to the floor, leaning his head back against Mia's hip on the pew. She was out cold, far as he could tell. Probably for the best. He listened to her breathing, then tipped his head back to look at the hole in the ceiling, the scrap of sky visible beyond.

A few stars had come out, the clouds parting to show a sliver of moon. Stars didn't look like that anywhere else but here.

You're back home again, Karl.

What do you think you'll find, in the place that destroyed you, in the place you destroyed in turn?

Yeah, well. Like he'd said. It all came back round eventually.

He'd worry about it in the morning.