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dovithedarklord · 6 months ago

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Stucked - Part 7

You're trapped in a game and a new threat is lurking.

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Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x reader, Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader, König x reader

Tags: Mentions of death, Mentions of blood and gore, Blood and Violence, Sexual Scenes, Alternate Universe, No use of Y/N, Not Beta Read, AFAB Reader

Trigger Warning: Contains blood and gore, violence, injury, some body horror, and drugging. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

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Author's Note

The climax of the story is getting closer and closer, and now you meet someone who knows what kind of place you're stuck in.

Hello!

Sorry for the long delay, but I was finally able to get back to writing! The story is slowly coming to an end and the last important character enters.

Have fun! :D

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

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The eerie silence of the forest penetrates every unprotected pore of your cold body like a latent sickness, as if the ominous uneventfulness would be a precursor to a deadly disease that can push you into a sick bed festering with ulcers at any moment. And you know that this calmness is only a fleeting mirage, because in every dark corner, in every hidden hole, something terrible can be lurking, which can ruin the unsettling ease with which you fled from your pursuers. Even though you're surrounded by the soft breeze of the night, the sighs of the branches dancing in the wind passing through the trees, the frightened shuffling noises of the feet of animals coming to life under the dead leaves, and even though the owls try to lull your suspicions with their melancholic songs, you already know this horrible prison all too well. And thanks to the last few hours, you won't make the mistake of trusting in its mercy again. Because in this fever dream, there is no benevolence, no compassion, only survival. And you do everything to win, because there is no other way out.

The time you spent wandering in the woods in the pitch-black night seems endless, and even though you know you're far away from the lake and the deformed creatures that turned the water into a putrid graveyard, the dull stabbing pain in your lungs reminds you of with what hurry you managed to disappear from the watchful eyes. You were just a hair's breadth away from being caught in the violent embrace of a beast, and if you hadn't found the pearls, you wouldn't have had a chance to make that daring escape with which you threw yourself into the thick of the forest before.

If you had any hopeful foolishness left in you, you'd think the game had given up on its cruel pursuit of fun and finally presented you with a generous gift. But you know that this goddamn purgatory feeds on the sweet nectar of suffering and will do everything to squeeze every last drop of luscious misery out of your flesh and bones. And as it flashes before your mind's eye, how the red and purple stains of the damaged blood vessels drawn into the tissues disappeared from your leg following the cool caress of the beads, you become more and more certain that it was all just a morbid coincidence. Maybe even this nightmare-like torture chamber can make a mistake, because you doubt that it offered you this miracle voluntarily. Like when a bug appears in a video game, causing the world embedded in pixels to slip for a moment, and through the distorted chaos, the system reveals secrets that you should have never seen. And maybe it did. Maybe this diabolical place is finally starting to crumble under the weight of its own evil.

But you know that now is not the time to ponder how the well-known hell will turn into a completely new kind of horror, because you only need to take a look at the map resting in your hand to know what your task is. On the yellowed page, the unknown gray building stands out with such definite outlines, as if someone had painted it there with liquid metal, and for a minute the sharp lines of the rough sketch seem to dance in front of your tired eyes. While trekking through the wild vegetation, you had time to decide where your path should lead you next, and although the knife-like anxiety in the depths of your stomach relentlessly pumps the warning acid of uneasiness into your limbs, you're aware that this new location didn’t appear without purpose. There's something there that makes this place important enough to have a prominent spot on the map, and that's enough reason for you to risk another disastrous adventure. After all, you have nothing to lose, right? A new killer, a new death, another damn mark on your skin, but a chance to find an exit. And at this point, you're ready to seize anything to get out of here.

It's almost cartoonishly comical, the way a small blood-red line on the stained page traces your journey so far, like a path sketched up with a crayon in the middle of the splotch-like woods, and this small detail only makes you even more certain that you're stuck in a grotesque game. The system keeps track of your progress, and although the knowledge that you cannot hide from the invisible gaze only increases the uncomfortable tightness in your chest, for once this atrocity has at least some benefits. For the dull edge of the gray building emerges with an uncanny glow from behind the dense curtain of foliage and branches, like a glimmering fragment of the imagination that may fade away at any moment. Even though the game follows your every move, it helped you to reach this point, and you're terribly grateful for it.

You keep your eyes fixed on the slowly approaching house with an unbroken focus as you carefully thread through the thicket of dry bushes, and it’s only due to random luck that you catch on your periphery those tiny, uncertain little blobs that rest serenely on one of the nearby trees. And when your brain finally registers the stimuli, you suddenly halt in your march, as if an unknown force had severed the nerve fibers wiring your muscles. There is something sickeningly familiar in the way the small human-like figures sway between the withered branchlets, and it dawns on you a few seconds later why your mind thought it was important to stop here. Because you saw the same dolls made of sticks at the shrine, where the map was waiting for you, and no matter how much this is a sure sign that you're moving in the right direction, you're unable to banish the instinctive sinister feeling stirring in your brain cells. At first, you thought that maybe they had erected that hideous monument in honor of the tentacled creature that lived in the lake, but now you know that they wanted to pay homage to something completely different. And whatever that unknown entity is, it doesn't bode well for you if teeth pulled from jaws, brown with blood, and clumps of hair lead to its grace.

But a completely new kind of confusion comes over you when you shift your attention from the sprawling tangle of dead twigs and finally spot the boot lying on the ground, almost hidden under the dry crown of curled leaves surrounding it. Perhaps you could chalk it up to a morbid coincidence, a background element without meaning, which fades into oblivion eventually, but the game has engraved in your mind with blood and pain that nothing here is just an insignificant detail. And as you step closer and examine the forgotten footwear, you discover those tiny, white shards on the faded leather covered in muddy dirt, which shine under the filtering moonlight like glitter. However, there is something quite unsettlingly velvety in the way the crushed pieces stand out from the grimy material, and as your vision finally sharpens enough to recognize the tiny red specks between the zig-zagged edges, you know what sits so innocently on the surface of the boot. Small pieces of grounded bones, which cover the abandoned object as if someone sprinkled it with granulated sugar. And this makes your stomach turn with such an elemental force that you stagger back from the horrible surprise, as if the very sight of it could breathe death into your cells. Because however that bone dust ended up on that unfortunate shoe, you don't want to suffer the same fate as its owner.

However, you’re jolted out of your stupor by an unexpected crack, which deafeningly pierces into the motionless quite between the tree trunks, and you crumple the map deep into your pocket with reflexive panic and turn in the direction of the noise, as if someone was pulling you on a string. And a completely impossible relief ripples through you, loosening the tennis ball size knot your stomach has shrunk into, as you find yourself face to face with an old woman, who freezes with her wicker basket full of chopped-up wood clutched to her chest, her face pale with a look of horrified shock like yours. You see the fright reflected in her eyes, as she looks you over slowly, and the thought arises in you that maybe you yourself might not present a more inviting sight than the boots. Because although the mementos of your wounds, colored with bruises, have disappeared, your dirty, wet clothes clung to your battered, paralyzed body, and at this moment you're quite sure that with your eyes widened with fear, you must remind her of a trapped wild animal.

A torturous, tense moment of stillness passes, and when you see the frail, worn-out old figure relax, anxiety releases its grip on your insides as well, and you let out the breath that has been trapped in the supple prison of your lungs with painful tension until now.

"Oh my… are you all right, sweetheart?" Comes the sincere question in a strangely accented voice, and the tenderness in her words hits you completely unprepared. And although an intimate, motherly concern moves between her features, as her thinning eyebrows meet under her gray hair with worry, you still can't suppress the flicker of doubt that whispers from the back of your skull to be careful. You don't dare to trust anything anymore, and a stranger rarely means good in this damn world. Yet, your tortured soul yearns for the tiniest spark of humanity with such pitiful force, that you involuntary let your spine loosen the painful stiffness that resides in it.

"I'm lost." You answer, carefully rolling the syllables on your tongue, savoring the caution that instinctively settles in your mouth and restrains your sociability. Although the woman seems defenseless, you already know how unnoticed a beast can hide behind the mask of sweet kindness. At best, she’s an insignificant NPC, an additional character who merely fills the void, who, like Pam and Rebecca, is condemned to eternal death, and waits unsuspectingly for the killer to appear to strip her of her aged flesh. And you want to hope that she's just a helpless puppet of the storyline and not another threat, because you want more than anything to have someone else suffer instead of you finally. Because you lost the compassion that would be appalled at this thought long ago.

"How about you come to my house?" She makes the timid offer, and as her gaze catches the thick layer of mud embedded in your T-shirt, you can see how her mouth curls into a line full of doubts. As if she would understand without asking any questions, that you've been through an endless hell that has soaked itself into your pores through the soft cotton, and can't be expressed with words. "I'll find you something warm to put on." She adds, and you feel the awareness with which she tries to dispel the restless rigidity radiating from her to not frighten you. As if she were talking to a trapped fawn, which would be able to take flight at the slightest thoughtless move, even if its shackles would flay its legs, trapped between the razor-sharp metal, alive in the process. And it makes you realize how pitiful it is, that the events of the never-ending night transformed you into a raw, pulsating nerve so easily. But you suspect that this is what has kept you alive until now.

Although the suspicion of the stranger has already settled into the depths of your consciousness, you still make yourself nod, because even if you don't know the woman and have no idea what might be hiding behind the defenseless exterior, you're aware that you're serving yourself as easy prey for the monsters in the forest. And you know it's only a matter of time before they catch a scent and appear breathing down on your neck.

"Alright... Come on, I don't live far from here!" She motions towards the building resting in the distance with her head, and you immediately know where her home could be. And if you had doubts, now you're quite sure, you've become involved in a new storyline, no matter how accidental this unexpected meeting seems. The game can always surprise you with new horrors, but as merciless as this world is, it's also as predictable. Because it's addicted to its habits, and you have learned to interpret its hidden signs. There are no coincidences, only tools that lead to your doom. And if you were already on your way to another trouble, then you let yourself be lead into its open mouth.

She hesitates for a few seconds, waiting to see if you change your mind and retreat into the desolate depths of the forest, but when you continue to stare at her like statue frozen in place, she turns around with the ghost of a small smile on her face, and beckoning you with her knobby fingers, she aks you to follow her. And you join her a moment later, keeping that respectful distance that speaks more to the mistrust swirling in your belly than to the thoughtfulness you feel for her. Perhaps an onlooker would think that you're just a scared little girl tagging along with her in the maze of tree trunks, but you feel the energy slithering through your legs, ready to run off at the very first odd move. You may be a slow learner, but you could repeat this lesson even after waking up from a dream. Don't let yourself be fooled. Because you've outlined the ideal possibility, but even the whirlwind of your imagination cannot authentically paint the worst-case scenario for you.

After a few meters spent in wordless peace, as the last remnants of the wild vegetation, frozen from the autumn cold, disappears, the concrete building, for which you decided to drag yourself through the goddamn forest, emerges almost abnormally in the small clearing. It stands out from the dark foliage as strikingly as an old silver ring forgotten in a black velvet box, and there is something quite unsettling about the way the tiny windows stare down at you from the monotonous walls. Like hungry mouths, waiting for a victim that they can grind up with their glimmering glass teeth. And you notice, what grotesque similes your brain is making, but you're unable to suppress the voice in your head that tells you, that there is no one in this artificial world who would call this their home with peace of mind. Because the structure looks more like a slaughterhouse with its inhospitable, barren frame, on which the holes from the crumbling plaster and the dry carpet of faded lichens bordering them gape like scars left behind by smallpox. The building may have been standing here since the game's universe was created, and in light of this, it’s even more baffling to you why it appeared only now.

But you can't ponder on that now, because you reach the house, and the old woman hurries to the shabby entrance with an agility that belies her age, pushing in the thick wooden panel covered with flaking red paint with a light movement, and opens the door of her home to you with the same helpfulness with which she led you here until now. Even though she doesn't say a word, you still understand the gentle plea with which she invites you in, because you see the worried light dancing in her eyes, with which she examines the uncertainty glued onto your features. And you want to believe in this softness more than anything, but what helps your leaden legs move the most is the knowledge that you know you can't turn back. Because Johnny and Simon are out there looking for you, and even if you were to avoid them, you'd already delved into a new thread of events. And you fear how the game would punish you if you were to deny its generous gift. Therefore, gathering all your remaining composure, you force the faint curve of a weak smile into the corner of your mouth and head towards the interior of the house, fighting the instinctive feeling that makes it seem like you're walking straight through the entrance to the scene of your execution.

As you cross the threshold made of rickety boards, the characteristic smell of old houses snakes into your nose, the fusty stench of moisture that has soaked into the walls over the decades and the stale essence of powdery, old perfumes, which awakens nostalgia in you with an almost visceral force. And there is something extremely homely about the old chest of drawers, forgotten in the small hall, and about the lace tablecloth spread on the top of it, chewed by time, on which a bouquet of worn plastic flowers sits in a glass vase, like the last witnesses of a couple of long gone, sentimental memories. The old nick-nacks accumulated over the years rests in neat order, and even on the walls, the frames, covered with pale gold, hang with measured precision, with black and white photos of unknown people in them, testifying that perhaps, according to the story, the woman might not have lived here alone once. They looking into the camera with blank expressions on their grim faces, and you swear that they're staring into your soul with their dull, dot-like eyes.

And when the woman rushes past you towards the inside of the house, disrupts the thin layer of dust that settles on the worn surface of the furniture, and as the musty smell traveling with the tiny particles settles into your nose, it occurs to you that, despite the homely atmosphere, it's as if no more than a few stray ghosts would actually live here. And your subconscious warns you about this small intuition, which makes you sneak after your host with careful cat-like steps, like a curious child who knows she's straying into an area that adults have told her a thousand times not to venture near to.

The lamp hanging from the ceiling is the only source of light as you enter the kitchen after the the old woman, and the light bulb casts filmy, yellow rays from under the milk-like porcelain onto the battered furnishings of the little room. She’s already busying herself, and shoves chopped pieces of wood into the dilapidated stove, scaly with peeling white paint, glancing over her shoulder as she hears the shuffling of your shoes on the worn linoleum.

"Sit down, I'll make you some tea to warm you up!" She speaks up, and by now all uncertainty has disappeared from her voice, giving the impression that it was not a torn stranger, but an old friend who appeared in front of her humble abode in the middle of the night. And, as she digs out an ancient teapot from one of the cupboards, and the faucet turns on with a loud creak, as she steps to the sink and fills it with water, you wonder what will come next. Now you can't rely on your routine, with which you were able to tell exactly which breath followed the other in the cabin, and this creates an uncomfortable, gaping hole in your insides. And that sends a robotic rigidity into your limbs as you walk over to the table in the middle of the kitchen and settle down in one of the thick oak armchairs, because fear begins to twist in the bottomless pit that anxiety has opened in you, as your eyes scan the room for danger. You should feel bad that you're so persistently looking for a trap in the woman's hospitality, but you have experienced firsthand how big a mistake it is when you let yourself to be overconfident.

"A few minutes and it's done." She comments on her haste, and turning towards you, she leans against the shabby kitchen counter, finding you with her searching gaze again. Now that you have entered the scene of another dangerous mission, your consciousness automatically accepts the stimuli that your brain may have tried to push away until now. And you see the sparks of interest swimming through the pools of her eyes, but despite the soft expression still sitting on the worn face, the stress is too strong for you to let your guard down. You'd like to think that only your paranoia brings out this visceral suspicion, but you're smarter than that. "How did you get lost?" She formulates the completely legitimate question, and your ear once again discovers the accent that, despite the light tone, gives her words harshness. As if tiny little pebbles would be gurgling in her mouth, making every consonant flow out a little harder from her paper-thin lips. Maybe Russian?

"We just went for a walk with my friends. I lost them." You finally break your silence with a half-truth, which is just honest enough so that your tone is not colored by the sound of lies. You have no reason to tell her what happened during the endless torture of the past hours, and you have a gut feeling that it wouldn't help you if you mentioned to her what kind of monsters this demonic place has entwined your fate with.

And when the telltale shadows of doubt creep across the old face, you become quite sure that you have made the right decision. You can tell from the little quiver that makes the corner of her mouth twitch that she doesn't believe you, but there's just enough goodwill in her not to try to inquire further. You see how suddenly her throat jumps as she swallows the demanding questions, and you're quite sure that she knows exactly what happened to you. She must have resided in the middle of the forest long enough to know its every evil nook and cranny, and you doubt that her innocent facade is what has kept her alive. Whatever the purpose of this storyline, it is not a coincidence that she lives here in the middle of nowhere, and there is even less chance that it was thanks to some harmless tricks that helped her home to stay so undisturbed. This also raises a series of dangerous assumptions in you, and you can almost feel how the buzzing of suspicion in your head sharpens as a result.

A sudden whistle interrupts the thread of your thoughts sinking into ever darker pits, and the woman, breaking your silent examination, settles back into her caring role, turning to the teapot angrily steaming on the stove amid soft curses. And you take advantage of this to explore the hidden corners of the room, searching for small signs that can reveal what you're dealing with. It’s quite obvious that another important clue will be hidden here, and you have to do everything you can to find it, because you don't know how much time you have until the two men or another killer find you, one who has been lying dormant waiting for the opportunity to play with you until now.

And now that you take a closer look at the room, you discover more and more little details you missed when you wandered in here. You can see the touch of old hands in the order that resides in the small hole of the kitchen, but you can spot the silky blanket of spider webs that weave the plates decorated with flowers on the shelves, as if no one has used them for decades. There are rich bouquets of dried plants hung on nails on the wall, but below them, you can clearly make out the yellowed newspaper articles written in a language unknown to you, on which the same black and white people you saw in the hall look back at you. And when you squint and try to observe the figure emerging from under the withered flowers of one of the herbs, you see how a little boy, dressed in old-fashioned clothes, is cut through by the unknown mark, which almost decapitates him with the edges engraved with graphite. At first, the drawing may seem like a simple scribble, but you recognize the needle-sharp points of a star in it, as if someone had carved a grotesque crosshair there…

The knocking of the mug's porcelain jolts you out of your investigation, and you wince with the surprise of a small child caught in mischief, turning your gaze back to the woman, who takes her seat across from you with a much tighter smile than before. And the tenderness on her face turns into something completely cold, as if only habit would keep the friendly curl in the corners of her mouth in place, and the softness that used to be able to inspire sympathy in your soul has disappeared from them. Now her expression transforms into sharp lines, which are deepened into gloomy furrows by the yellow light filtering down from the lamp, as if would the woman transform into someone completely different in an instant. Someone you shouldn't be around.

"Drink up. It will help." She pushes the cup towards you, and you know it's not just your ears when you feel the impatient tone in her voice, from which the offer sounds more like an instruction than a well-meaning nagging. And you don't react for a tense moment, and despite the anxiety churning in your stomach, you try to keep your cool, because now you recognize the fleeting shadow that hides under the gentle warmth. Like a hawk waiting to strike, she follows your movements as you wrap your fingers around the handle of the mug, but she can no longer deceive you, because you've seen the same expression before. Although it's not Johnny's handsome face and the sparks of his sky-blue eyes that want to divert the suspicion that is scratching your insides, the disguise of an old woman feigning cordial concern would just as effectively put anyone's doubts to sleep. But she can put on any mask, you're already able to distinguish the vileness under the sickly sweet surface. And this woman wants to hurt you, you're sure of that.

Still, you pull the steaming beverage in front of you with almost automatic movements, trying with every cell not to let her figure out that you suspect something. You need her to reveal herself, because that's how you can get her to lead you to the clues that can get you out of here. There is something hidden in this damned house, and you feel it in your bones that it’s important to find out what it is. All your fake innocence seeps into the way you touch your mouth to the porcelain, and the luscious scent of herbs and fruits snakes into your nose. And although you don't feel the sting of poison in the steamy clouds rising from the tea, it fills you with a bad foreboding when the woman leans forward with artificial benevolence frozen on her face, watching with almost intrusive interest how you start sipping the hot liquid. And you feel more and more tense with each passing second, like an ant stuck under a magnifying glass, which has just begun to feel how the rays of the sun breaking through the lens burn its legs into charcoal stubs. And you see the dissatisfaction when you hesitantly lower the cup.

"Drink it all. You need it." She encourages you, almost cooing, and her accent is more reminiscent of an impatient mother who tries to dictate medicine to her protesting child with a barely controlled temper. Gentle, but just as much as boiling water forgotten under the lid. And you feel how the little hairs rise on the nape of your neck, as her glassy eyes fixate on you with unblinking persistence.

Uncertain silence settles in the tiny kitchen, which makes the saliva in your mouth thicken into molasses as you return the woman's stare. Under the flickering light of the old bulb, everything seems to change, and out of the corner of your eye, it looks as if the flowers painted on the wall would turn into wax, dripping off the plaster dirty from grease. But you’re unable to turn your gaze away from her, as she studies you with the immobility of a predator, and you have to forcefully suppress the trembling that awakes in your hands as you raise the mug to your lips and take another small sip. And the excited light that passes over her features does’t escape your attention for a minute, as she follows the almost painfully sweet liquid traveling down your throat. And now you're sure that no matter how harmless this elderly woman seems, evil is hidden under her frail frame. Because the pearls hidden in your pockets come to life with an almost warning glow, as the strange, bitter aftertaste sits on your taste buds, which the sugar has been able to suppress until now.

Under the pulsation of the little red spheres, the light buzz, that the brew wants to envelop your brain in, has no chance of spreading, but you know you have to pretend that she was successful, whatever she smuggled into your drink. Because there's a reason why she's trying to knock you out, and maybe if you make her believe that you let her trick you like an unsuspecting fool, then she'll reveal what she's up to. That's why you let the fatigue throbbing in your limbs creep onto the fibers of your muscles, numb with lactic acid, and you let the exhausted yawn loose that, now that you're finally resting, falls through your mouth sincerely. And you hear that satisfied little hum with which the woman finally leans back, when she assesses the unexpected force of the sleepiness washing over you.

"Perhaps it would be best if you stayed here for the night." She offers, and there is nothing to unsure about the way she presents her proposal to you. A selflessly offered opportunity, behind which lies a statement to which no opposition is expected. And it’s exactly this determination that dispels the previous softness, and fills her old joints with an almost youthful energy, when she springs up and starts towards the kitchen door, giving you one last, almost painfully fond look. "You just stay here and rest." She adds, and you feel nauseous from the kindness under which the poison of cruelty ripples, and which creeps into your ear canals with snide unsolicitedness.

When, after an uncertain nod, you lay your head down on the table with languid weakness, she hurries away towards the maze of the corridor giggling, with such immense glee, as if an unexpected present had fallen into her lap. And you, closing your eyes, order every part of your body to remain motionless in anticipation, slowing your breathing to a trembling evenness, listening through your own shivering for the woman's footsteps. You have to remain unnoticed because you're sure that if she realizes that her tea has failed to relax you enough, she'll come up with something much more painful to get the desired effect. You're not sure what her goal is, but you don't have time to create unnecessary excitement for yourself.

For minutes, only the soft puffs of the air flowing through your nose fill the room shrouded in an almost disturbing quietness, but despite your pulse pounding in your ears with an almost deafening noise, you wait until all the sounds die down between the old walls. And when you decide that you have wasted enough time, you carefully push yourself away from the worn furniture and stand up with your eyes fixed on the shadows beyond the door, watching for an unexpected visitor with every move you make. But, when nothing happens, and only the low buzzing of the light bulb and the hooting of the owls filtering in from outside travel through the empty house, then you sneak towards the hallway.

As you step out onto the corridor, it takes a few uncertain seconds for your eyes to get used to the dense darkness, and when you're finally able to make out the pitch-black outlines of the furniture, you set off into the unknown. The age-old parquet floor creaks under your shoes, reminiscent of the soft squealing of a mouse, and with each step you take, the presentiment tightens its grip on your insides. Because you have no idea where the old woman could have gone, and the fact that she can appear from behind any of the doors lined up next to each other is just enough to awaken the needle-like prickling of stress in your muscles. As if a thousand tiny ants would be crawling under your skin, and clenching your teeth, you fight the tempting compulsion to escape. You know you're wading into the swampy abyss of certain danger, but you also know you have no other choice. And not finding a clue is not an option. You have to move on or you'll be stuck here forever.

You wouldn't be able to tell how deep you ventured into the uninhabited house, but everything turns into an unsettling uniformity as a dull entrance follows another insignificant door, and the pictures hanging on the walls serve as your only companions in your wanderings.The lifeless eyes following you send shivers down your spine involuntarily, because although they're nothing more than the imprints of strangers lingering in the past, yet there is something bleak in the faces of the people on them. But when you discover something familiar, you stop dead in your tracks to take a closer look at the many of photos hidden in the frames, and you don't have to think long to recognize the boy from the kitchen. Although he may be much older here, and the childish roundness of his face has already been banished by the hormones of adolescence, but the light eyes stare at you with the same stern expressionlessness as they did from the shadows of the herbs. There is something hard in them, something angry, lurking beneath the frozen stillness, waiting to strike. And the longer you stare, the more the unpleasant feeling intensifies in you, which plants the impossible idea in your mind that the next moment he will come to life and, reaching through the scratched glass, wraps his pale, thin fingers around your neck.

A thunder-like bang tears into the empty quiet of the building, and you, shaking in terror, break out of your paranoia-woven imagination to spin around and start searching for the noise with the alarm of a frightened animal. And when the sounds don't die down, but are enriched by the clanking of a chain and the murmur of a muffled conversation, then you come upon the worn door, ajar, on the tattered surface of which a star-like scribble greets you, roughly sketched up with blood-red paint, the same that someone drew on the boy in the newspaper article. And you become aware with an uncomfortable certainty that the game has finally revealed your next destination to you, no matter how much every cell of yours protests against venturing towards the source of the increasingly loud clamor.

Every single nerve of yours tenses as one, as you move closer, keeping your eyes fixed on the cracked varnish clinging to the wooden surface, considering each step before the next, and the closer you stray, the sharper the violently snapping words become, and even though you don't understand them, you can feel the simmering ire in them. You open the door with your trembling fingers wrapped around the doorknob, and the saliva crawls down your dry throat almost like shards of glass, when you try to dispel the lump that has grown there. But nothing welcomes you, only a set of stairs covered in faint light, which leads you down into the uncertain darkness, and you feel the force of fear twisting your guts, as you muster up your courage and set off to the rickety steps.

The lower you go, the wider the hidden world of the basement opens up in front of you, and the more painful the horrible smell, mixture of the sweet stench of rot and the sting of sweat, pierces your nose. With each breath, the stagnant, moldy air penetrates deeper into your lungs, and if your brain weren't occupied by terror, you would wonder what kind of disease you're filling your chest with so voluntarily. Although to your own ears, every noise your shoes mak on the old stairs is ear-splitting, you know, even through the uncontrollably roaring fear inside you, that the sounds of your arrival will be drowned out by the wild discussion unfolding on the other side of the wall bordering the stairs. You recognize the woman's voice in the furious foreign expressions, but that's not what makes you halt hesitantly on the last step. It's that unexpected, raspy male baritone that stops the momentum of your curiosity from taking you any further, because even though you can't see the face associated with it, you feel the deadly threat traveling in the growl-like rumble.

"ублюдок!" The woman erupts, and even you cringe instinctively from the caustic rage that sits in her tone. "You ungrateful wretch!" She spits in a way that you finally can understand, and you hear the crunch of the dirt and dust sliding under her shoes as she take a step forward, as if she were moving closer to someone, but further away from your impromptu hiding place. "I should have let them take you!" The end of the heated cursing snaps, and with this the stormy exchange of words turns into painful silence, as if the shadows hiding on the dirty floor had absorbed not only the rays of the faintly flickering light, but also the sounds. And from this, even you know that something came out of the woman's mouth that shouldn't have.

The basement falls into an icy stillness, and the tiny hairs on your skin rise as you lean against the wall and listen, wondering if you made a mistake by coming down here. However, as your frightened eyes wander around the dimly lit room, you discover something in one corner that catches your eye with its golden glow. And you lean forward like someone who has been mesmerized, trying to decipher through the dying light of the old bulb hanging on the ceiling, what might be hiding in one of the shelves under the piled-up, dusty mountain of junk. And the relieved joy that washes over you when you notice the lost key that leads to Johnny's attic, is almost ridiculous, and for a fleeting moment, you're sure that it's just your eyes playing games with you. But the tiny little object winks back at you with an unmoving serenity a few long seconds later, and you already know what your task is.

"Oh, my little boy... don't be angry! Mommy loves you, you know that, right?" You hear the apologetic shush, and you're filled with an ominous feeling as you lean forward from behind the wall, clinging to the crumbling bricks, to see how safe it is to get the key. And your eyebrows knot together in confusion when you're greeted by nothing more than the old woman, who, stepping towards one of the dark corners, spreads her arms as if waiting for someone to fall into her arms. Although at first, you're sure that age and loneliness have warped her mind so much that she imagines one of her loved ones in the shadows, but as your gaze falls on the mattress, brown with dirt, lying by the wall, and the plates soiled from the rotting leftover food, you dismiss your naive assumption. Someone is here, and based on the dried, yellowish stains on the torn bedsheet, they weren't forced to retreat here now. But you don't care about that. Whoever is imprisoned here, you're not here to help them.

"I found a new friend for you... She is much prettier than the previous ones! You want to see her, don't you? If you're a good boy, I'll bring her down for you... You do as mommy says, yes?" The woman continues, mumbling the kind words with an almost atoning tenderness, and it becomes painfully clear that whatever lives down here, this old bitch tried to drug you because of it. And when you remember the boot sprinkled with bone dust found in the forest, you banish the idea of thinking about what could have happened to those who were dragged down here before you. You have more important things to do than brood over the deaths of imaginary strangers… as cruel as that may sound.

But just as you finally take the first brave step and leave your hideout with careful stealth, the chain rattle comes to life again, and you freeze, forgetting about the key, when a dull crack silences the old hag. Like when a ripe, juicy melon cracks and splits into two when a knife sinks into it, but deep down you know that it's not fruit juice you hear splashing on the floor in fat drops. And you're unable to resist the pull of fear, which draws you in the direction of the noise against your will, but as soon as you see the woman slowly staggering back from the dark corner, you immediately regret giving in to the impulse. Because when your eyes find the handle of the large knife protruding from her head, you clamp your hands to your mouth, trying to force back the horrified scream that rises in your throat.

The woman clumsily stumbles backward, and you see the uncertain surprise in the trembling hands with which she reaches for her hair, slowly covered into a crimson veil from the blood, touching the wooden handle almost in disbelief. And there is something quite pitiful in the way she turns around in confusion, amidst frightened whimpers, brushing away the strands stuck to her eyes by the red streams running down her forehead. And you, swallowing the bitter taste on your tongue, take a terrified step back, as you suddenly see how impossibly tight the skin clings to the edges of the bones emerging from the sunken face, as if a parasite were about to break through a thin membrane. The pale tissues look unsettlingly papery, and you have a lingering fear that the dull, matte white of her jaw might penetrate them at any moment, as the woman's mouth opens in a silent scream. Unfocused eyes find you, and you're horrified to realize that maybe she wants to ask for help when she wobbles towards you with shaky legs, but you're frozen in terror, as you stare at her motionless, like a deer stuck in the headlights of a car. And you watch in shock, when after what seems like eternity, she, with a gurgling rattle, finally sprawls out on the dusty ground, like a sack full of rotten potatoes.

"You're finally here." You hear the hoarse voice from before, and as you look for its owner in terror, you see how a strong figure emerges from the darkness of the shadows, dragging the heavy shackle of the chain hanging from his thick neck behind him with a metallic clang. But what worries you even more than the muscles hidden under the torn clothes, is the pair of impossibly blue eyes that emerge from under the mask covering the unknown man's face, which look at you with cheerful interest, as if he had found a small bird with a broken wing. And from the cruelty glimmering in them, it immediately becomes painfully clear that he is the kind of person who would rip your wings out by the stem to free you from suffering. "I was waiting for you, Bunny."

(ублюдок (ublyudok) - bastard).

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navybrat817 · 2 years ago

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All Tied Up

Pairing: Motocross!Jake Jensen x Female Reader Summary: You find a way to distract Jake after a rough morning. Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, vaginal unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), light bondage, talk of safeword, tiny angst and insecurities if you squint, established relationship, Jake Jensen (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Kicking off my Naughty & Nice Nonsense with Loser and Lucky! Inspired by a conversation with @11thstreetvigilante , who deserves only good things. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

When you mentioned experimenting a bit with bondage in the bedroom one day, Jake jumped at the chance. He suggested different ways to tie you up and added that bondage tape would work if you didn't want to use rope. He even added the stoplight system could be a safeword or something like "knack knack". You raised an eyebrow and said he had either done his research or had a partner who tried it with him in the past. Or both.

It was both, but his old girlfriend wasn't you. Not even close. You laughed after a moment and assured him you weren't upset. It would be hypocritical since you had your own past and Jake was your present.

You then asked if he tied up his ex or if it was the other way around.

Again, it was both.

You were slightly disappointed that you weren't the first to try it with him, but you gave him a devious grin after a moment.

“I’ll save it for when you need it,” you said and left it at that.

Until one morning after a rough practice. He was uncharacteristically quiet as the two of you ate and he wondered if his team would eventually leave him behind. As much as he loved racing, that would only take him so far. He didn’t want to bother you with his insecurities. You put up with him enough as it was.

But you must have sensed something was up and that he needed to unwind. Standing in the bathroom doorway wearing nothing but a smile as he got out of the shower, you said you were glad he cleaned himself off. You planned to get him dirty all over again.

There was no finesse when he rushed to bed with his raging hard-on and you were kind enough not to say anything when you carefully bound him. If anything, it pleased you how excited he was. You once told him that he should never be ashamed of his passion, whether it was for you or a hobby.

You teased him with your mouth, but stopped before he could finish.

"Only filling one hole today, big boy," you told him as you took in every inch of him with a moan. "No thinking right now. I'm going to ride you until your brain has to reboot.”

Anyone would shatter if they had Lucky on top of them and he was thankful enough to be yours to break.

He was also amazed he didn't lose it the second you had your first orgasm.

"Jake," you panted as you recovered, pressing your lips against his as he squirmed beneath you. "Why aren't you holding still?"

Maple.

He could still taste the sugary syrup on your lips from your earlier meal, the flavor dancing on his tongue. Sweet, but not as delicious as the nectar between your thighs. The same juices that currently seeped around his cock.

And you weren't done yet.

"Because your pussy keeps clenching around me and I can't get my hands on your perfect tits," he pouted before you kissed him deeper.

And I'm so close to blowing my fucking load.

"Aww. These perfect tits?" you asked, leaning back so he could get a good look. His glasses would have fogged up if he had them on. That's how hot you looked. "Remember the first time you felt me up? You moaned so sweetly. Made me feel beautiful."

"You are beautiful," he moaned.

The tender smile on your face as you moved above him was an image he'd dream about.

"Still not touching my tits," you winked.

He never thought he'd be jealous of your hands, but watching you bring them to your chest to grope yourself? Pinching your nipples and rolling the hardened buds between your fingers? Yeah, he was jealous. So jealous that he whined when he thrust beneath you.

"Let me get my mouth on them if I can't touch. Please, baby," he begged, the breath punching out of his lungs as you lifted your hips and slammed down.

"Not yet," you smirked, moving your hands from your chest to his thighs.

Tease and I love it. I love everything about you.

"When?" he asked, staring shamelessly as your breasts bounced.

"Soon," you promised. "You good?"

"Green," he moaned.

He wondered if you kept him bound just to see if he'd free himself from the restraints. He had the strength to do so, but he wouldn't. You made it clear today that you called the shots.

“You may want my tits, but I know what you really want, Jakey,” you smirked as he felt his cock slide along your walls. “You want to fuck up into my tight pussy until I scream your name.”

Jake gritted his teeth as struggled to not do just that. He also wanted to flip you over and pound you into the mattress so you’d feel him for days. He felt you throb around him and knew you were as desperate to come again as he was to fill you up.

“I’ll scream it,” you promised him, shuddering as you moved faster. “How can I not? Such a big cock and it’s all mine.”

“It’s yours?” he grunted, thrusting up enough for you to feel it. By the mewl you let out, he hit the right spot. “Like your pretty pussy’s all mine?”

“All yours,” you panted as your hands suddenly moved to the headboard, leaning down enough so your breasts moved in his face. “Now let me make you feel good.”

Do whatever you want, Lucky.

He took one of your nipples into his mouth and moaned as you fucked yourself on his cock. He let you take because you always gave everything back to him. Your passion matched his own. How is he lucky enough to call you his?

“I want you to come on it,” he urged, flicking his tongue on the hardened nub. “Please, Lucky.”

Jake wasn’t sure if it was his plea that made you climax, but you coated his thick cock with your wetness once again. He smiled as he heard the sound of his name in the room. You screamed it just like you promised. Even when your head dropped to his shoulder, your trembling body still moved so he could join you in euphoria.

“Come in me,” you said against his skin.

You barely got the statement out before he let out a loud groan and sprayed your slick walls with his hot, thick spend. You whimpered as he finished, his taut body relaxing as you both tried to catch your breath. He wanted to wrap his arms around you, but he’d settle for you keeping your body against his.

Right where you belong.

"You okay?" you asked after a minute. “I mean really okay?”

Jake nuzzled against you as much as he could, the softness in your voice bringing a smile to his face. "Yeah."

"Talk later?" you asked.

"Once my brain reboots," he joked, forgetting all about his rough practice.

I love you. Thank you.

“Not tapping out are you?” you breathed out, smiling against his skin when he groaned. “I came twice. How many more before you break free?”

You made it to three.

I adore this couple. I can't help it. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Misc. Chris Evans Characters Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #navy's naughty & nice nonsense #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen x female reader #jake jensen x you #jake jensen x y/n #motocross!jake jensen x reader #loser and lucky #jake jensen #motocross!jake jensen #jake jensen fanfiction #jake jensen imagine #jake jensen au #motocross au #dialed in: motocross au #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you

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blimbo-buddy · 8 months ago

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Bug World No Mercy: Naming Systems in the Bug Kingdoms

Before we proceed: I want to note that with all of the names listed, they can also be translated into other languages and it will still suffice as a name for the bug.

For example: If you translate “Leaf” into Spanish, “Hoja”, it will still be a valid name because of the word it was translated from. So without further ado:

Slugs of the Garth/Timberland

Before the Great Division Of Slug Country, the Slugs all had the same naming system.

Their names typically followed things associated with nature, wild-grown fruits, trees, leaves, plants, etc.

When the Slugs of the Garth formed their empire, they took on names associated with things you might find in a garden:

Fruits: Banana, Watermelon, Berry

Vegetables: Cucumber, Spud, Carrot

Nuts: Pistachio, Pecan

Legumes: Chickpea, String Bean

Flowers: Lily, Daffodil, Aster

When the Slugs of the Timberland stayed in the forest, they retained many of their old names, pre-division. These were names that associated with things found in the forest:

Bodies of water: Creek, Lake

Wild-grown fruits: Gumnut, Aronia

Trees: Pine, Birch

Plants: Fern, Ivy

Words relating to the forest: Woodland, Bosky

There are, however, “ grey area” names that arose after the division of Slug Country, as these names related to things that are present in both gardens and in nature:

Strawberry, Nectar, Apple, and Honey are some examples of these names

However, a slug can actually have a quote attached to them, created for themselves and by themselves.

Slugs of a high rank - Such as royalty, scholars, guards, advisors, etc.- are the only ones who can acquire a quote, according to Slug Law

These names can take a while to create, think of it like a thesis

High rank slugs must spend a year outlining, rough drafting, and finalizing their quote

This process also includes a month spent out in the forest to be alone with their thoughts

Trusted scholars are tasked with teaching upcoming high ranks multiple lessons of how to craft the perfect quote for themselves

The name itself must remind the others of that particular slug.

Example: “For what is the weakling slug, if they had moistened the soil into mulch, with the flesh of their enemies.” aka (Queen) Mulch.

These quote titles originated from the beginning of the Slug Country, thousands and thousands of years ago. The two warring sides of the previously known Slug Country have retained these types of names since then.

Cockroach Kingdom

Due to the Cockroach Kingdom's closeness to the humans and their society, they've taken on names that have to do with general products of human society, such as:

Human-made objects: Fork, Knife, Wire, Trash Can

Food/Drinks: Pizza, Soda, Hamburger

Buildings: Apartment, Prison, Greenhouse

The domestication of rats and pigeons by the Cockroach Kingdom is one that dates back thousands of years, theorized to be even before the Great Division of Slug Country. This led to titles pertaining to “Pest Tamers”, as the bugs call it, to be created:

Cockroaches that handle rats are given the title “Rat Tamer” before their name

On the other hand, cockroaches that handle pigeons are given the title “Pigeon Master” before their name

Hammerheads of the Gastropods (Hammerhead Worms)

Hammerhead Worm names generally follow a "4-part rule", going as such: Sir/Madame Gastro- (Given Birth Name) -Pod.

For shortening reasons, one may call a Hammerhead Slug: Sir/Madame (Given Name), Gastro-(Given Name), or (Given Name)-Pod.

Example: Madame Gastro-Grate-Pod,

Or: Madame Grate, Gastro-Grate, Grate-Pod

In Hammerhead Worm society, it is considered incredibly rude and disrespectful to only refer to one by only their Given Birth Name.

These Given Birth Names will typically be based off of:

The Hammerhead’s physical appearance: Mottle, Splotch, Stripe, Brindle

Physical actions: Scrape, Drag, Grate, Clutch, Trek, Smear

Believed to be the second oldest bug kingdom to perfect “Pest Taming”, Hammerhead Worms classify themselves into small categories, based upon the bird that acts as their steed:

Example: Robin Jockey, Finch Jockey

Moth Citadel

Moths are typically named after:

Organic materials that they eat: Cloth, Shirt, Hair, Blanket, Wool, Silk

Dark-themed words: Dim, Dull, Shade, Bleak

Moths also have a secondary part to their name.

Depending on what stage of the moon they were born under, that will serve as their last name.

For example: Blanket Waxing Crescent.

These last names fall under "Moon Families", although not every moth in the same Moon Family is related to each other.

Cicada Burrow

Since Cicada society puts lots of emphasis on a past life that a cicada has had, their names reflect such beliefs.

Cicada names include their current life's name alongside their previous life's name: (Current life’s name); Once-(Previous life’s name)

Cicada names are typically based around:

Types of trees: Redwood, Oak, Sycamore

Noises: Hum, Buzz, Bang

Words relating to plants/roots: Pith, Root, Stem

Nectar/Juices/Saps: Phloem, Mango Nectar, Apple Juice

An example of this would be: Sycamore; Once-Lily Nectar

Note: If a Cicada has just begun their cycle (Meaning that they are the beginning life of a rebirth cycle) then they will have just a singular name

Beetle Dynasty

Due to the dynasty's heavy emphasis on being defensively strong and armory, their names are ones that sound very heavy/strong/sturdy. This includes

Minerals/Gems: Titanium, Talc, Calcite

Trees/Words relating to trees: Lumber, Branch, Redwood

Words relating to rocks: Sedimentary, Boulder, Cobble

Metals: Cobalt, Copper, Steel

Example: Titanium, Sedimentary, Talc, Lumber

Beetles within the nation may also be granted a special title alongside their name. Usually connecting with a specific achievement

Special Title Example: Tungsten the Artificer, Strata the Batslayer

Worm Empire

Due to their entire empire (and association) being within the dirt, Worms take on names that have something to do with the earth

They can be based off of minerals in the dirt: Sulfur, Dolomite

The types of dirt: Peat, Clay

Shades of brown: Umber, Beige

Tools used to dig up the earth: Trowel, Shovel

Words connected to digging and moving around: Wriggle/Wriggling, Tunnel/Tunneling

The leader of the Worm Empire has the title of "Earth Master"

Worms who forage for food are given the title of "Processor"

Example: "Earth Master Excavator" “Processor Bronze”

Butterfly Pavilion

The butterflies take great pride in their appearance and beauty, so it's only fitting that their names reflect that. Many of their names are based on:

Colors: Blue, Amber, Aqua

Positive adjectives: Handsome, Bright, Clever

Flowers: Dahlia, Zinnia, Allium

Words/sounds associated with birds: Whir, Caw, Vane

Bird species: Robin, Hawk, Condor

When born, the caterpillars have their names prefaced with "Beautiful Sprout" and will keep this title until they form into a cocoon.

Upon emerging, the butterfly leaves behind their Beautiful Sprout title

Higher ranking butterflies can gain the title of Weathervane, alongside the number at which they rank at within the group of 10 Weathervanes

They can “rank up” whenever the Weathervane ahead of them retires, dies, or is overthrown

Example: 4th Weathervane Caw

Fly Cluster

Unlike the other bug kingdoms, flies don’t have an actual kingdom due to their nature to roam around and eat things that many bugs wouldn’t even eat as a last resort. However, despite this vagabond-esque culture and lack of a “proper kingdom”, the flies still have a system of names, typically based off of:

Death-related words: Corpse, Carrion, Muerte

Fungus and fungus genus names: Cordyceps, Lion’s Mane, Mucor

Bacteria and viruses: Shigella, Rabies

Words relating to decomposition: Decay, Rot, Spoil

Spider Province

Though spiders have a wide array of naming systems that pertain to their kingdom, often you’ll find specific patterns in their names. Some names have a bit to do with their proximity with humans. You’ll find spiders named after:

Carnivorous plants: Sundew, Butterwort

Words relating to crafting: Concoct, Forge

Words relating to thread spinning: Intertwine, Weave, Spindle

Quiet noises: Mumble, Whisper, Hum, Hush

Clothes: Shirt, Jacket, Sweatshirt, Shoe(s)

Animals: Wolf, Viper, Python (Thanks to @imagination-confusion for this!

Something to note is that all spiders, no matter their age, will have the title of “Mandrel” due to their natural web-spinning capabilities being compared to the likes of that specific weaving tool.

Example: Spindle the Mandrel

Pillbug Domain

This kingdom of small, armored bugs puts lots of emphasis onto their outer exterior. So it’s only natural that their names reflect such cultural importance in one’s outside shell. Pillbugs will typically be named after:

Outer casing and frameworks: Shell, Chassis, Pod, Hull

Words related to spinning/fast movement: Spin, Bowl, Twist, Sweep

Metals: Aluminum, Steel

Trees/Words relating to trees: Redwood, Oak, Palm, Timber

Nuts: Walnut, Cashew, Pistachio

The Pillbug Domain’s high ranking bugs will sport the title of “Lord Pill” or “Lady Pill”.

Example: Lord Pill Swing

Something that you might notice is that many of the names of the Pillbug Domain are similar to the Beetle Dynasty’s names. This is because at some point, the Pillbug Domain was a part of the Beetle Dynasty, however would later on separate from the kingdom due to the Pillbug Lord disagreeing with many of the other leaders.

Dragonfly Lair

Dragonflies have names that they take great pride in, much like butterflies or cockroaches. Unless you are a close familiar, they demand that you refer to them as their full name or don’t refer to them at all. They carry names based on:

Positive adjectives: Courage, Brave, Gentle, Wise, Wisdom, Lionheart

Quick words: Whip, Snap, Zoom, Swift, Curt

Birds: Robin, Hawk, Falcon

In some rare cases, however, a dragonfly may be named after an old ruler from Europe. This is rarely the case, however. But it’s unknown to the bugs - including the Dragonflies themselves- how exactly knowledge of these European rulers became known.

Dragonfly society consists of a sibling monarchy and 2-4 advisors

The monarch dragonflies are born with the title “Eye-snatcher”

The advisor dragonflies are given the title “Lecture-wing”

Example: Eye-snatcher Ambition, Lecture-wing Sparrow

The Mosquito Flock

A kingdom that has functionally become a society that advocates for the death of the individual through hunting the sweet nectar of human blood. The Mosquito Flock carries many names based on:

Blood diseases: Sickle Cell, Anemia

Blood-related words: Ichor, Hemoglobin, Hematic

Drinking-related words: Sip, Guzzle, Swig

Eating-related words: Feast, Consume, Ingest

Words relating to a mosquito being killed: Slap, Swipe, Thwack

Bodies of water or general water-related words: Lake, Ocean, Puddle

Mosquito society has in place a title that all mosquitos must call each other by: Brother, Sister, and Sibling.

This holds a symbolic meaning, as mosquitoes believe they are all united as a “family”, it does not mean that they are all related to each other.

Firefly Faction

Due to the relatively unknown society of the firefly faction, it proved to be difficult to record their types of names for a while. Until now. Typically, a Firefly will be named after:

Fire and heat related words: Flame, Burn

Light related words: Sunshine, Spark, Day

Shine related words: Glimmer, Flicker

Quick motions: Flutter, Blink, Wink

The Ant Colonies

Ant colonies typically do not name their ants, except for some exceptions.

There are head ants in the colony that serve as managers for the different ant ranks, Lieutenant (Head Soldier), Director (Head Worker), and Head Rationer, the latter of which is responsible for what food comes into the colony.

The Head Ant names consist of a First and Last name that:

sounds violent and/or is linked with organs and bones

Example: Lieutenant Snap Neck, Director Rip Molar, and Head Rationer Flesh Maim

In ant colonies, there are also secondary ranks to the main three:

Soldiers: Watcher, Scout

Workers: Constructor, Brood Guard

Rationers: Food Guard, Chef

To each of these ranks, there is typically a single leading ant (Although more than one isn’t uncommon in bigger colonies). These leading secondary ants share the same last name as the head ant of their main rank, and will have their name prefaced with “Lead”:

For example, a Leading Constructor ant who works under an ant named “Director Rip Molar” will be named: Lead Constructor Stab Molar

Meanwhile, the rest of the ants do not have any names given to them, they are typically referred to as their rank, whether they’re Soldiers, Workers, Rationers, or any of the secondary ranks.

Regular ants can however be referred to and refer to each other as their designated rank (Food Guard, Watcher, etc.)

Drones are typically only referred to as Drones, but ants from the same colony and queen as a drone ant will sometimes refer to him as “Drone Brother”

The Queen Ant will have a violent sounding name, although not one that is formatted like the Head or Leading Ant's

The Queen's name will be prefaced by "Mother" and the name itself may be based off of:

Weapons: Sword, Sling, Crossbow

Torture methods: Keelhauling, Giridrion

Causes of death: Drown, Burn, Blunt Force

Violent words: Maim, Snap, Rip, Gnash

Organs/Bones: Tibia, Tooth, Stomach

An example of this is: "Queen Mother Macerate II" or “Queen Mother Gnash”

The Bees of the Hive

Though hundreds of beehives reside close to each other, all of differing histories, they all generally share the same types of names. Much like the Ant Colonies, Bee Hives have three main ranks: Lieutenant (Head Soldier), Director (Head Worker), and Head Rationer. Alongside that, they have secondary ranks:

Soldiers: Watcher

Workers: Constructor, Brood Guard, Greenskeeper

Rationers: Food Guard, Chef

However, unlike the Ant Colonies, Head/Lead bees don’t have first and last names, only first names. Their names will be based around:

Flowers: Wisteria, Oleander

Jams/preserves: Strawberry Jam, Apricot Preserves

Herbs/Teas: Chamomile, Earl Grey, Mint

Fruits: Apricot, Avocado

Descriptions of their personality: Wonderful, Humble

Regular bees are not actually properly named, instead, they are categorized by their hive's abbreviated name, their rank, and a designated number.

So for example, a drone bee from the Southern Creek Bound hive would be named: SCB-Drone-1033.

The Queen of the hive is given a proper name once she rises to the rank and successfully destroys her competitors. Like the Head and Leading bees, Queens can be named after:

Flowers

Jams/preserves

Herbs/Teas

Fruits

Descriptions of their personality

The queen bee's name is formatted as, "Queen (Name) of the (Hive name abbreviation(if needed)) Dynasty".

A queen's name may be something like: Queen Mango Jam of the SC Dynasty

The Wasp Swarms

Wasps share some of the same name aspects as both the bees and ants. Wasps have three main ranks like the bees and the ants: Workers, Soldiers, and Rationers.

And like with the bee and ant kingdoms, there are lead wasps for each main rank: Lieutenant (Head Soldier), Director (Head Worker), and Head Rationer.

With those ranks comes secondary ranks:

Soldiers: Watcher

Workers: Constructor, Brood Guard, Greenskeeper

Rationers: Food Guard, Chef

Just like ants and bees, leading secondary ranking wasps will have the title of Lead prefacing their names. Like bee society, wasps don’t have both first and last names, only a first name. These names will be based off of:

Quick actions: Dart, Strike, Jab

Fruits: Pear, Plum

Weapons: Machete, Hammer

Example: Lead Brood Guard Jab, Lieutenant Razor

The rest of the wasps don't have proper names: They are named after the sectors that they are hatched in and what rank they fill

Alongside that, wasps will have the name of the queen they were born under as part of their identification

For example: Battle Queen (Name), Sector F Soldier

Regular wasps can, however, be referred to as/refer to others as “(Sector) (Rank) Sister” or simply just “Sister”. While drones will be referred to as “(Sector) (Rank) Drone” or simply just “Drone”

Example: Sector A Sister, Sector E Drone

Just like the Head and Lead wasps, the Queen Wasp(s) will have names based off of:

Quick actions

Fruits

Weapons

Their name will also be prefaced by "Battle"

Example: Battle Queen Prickly Pear III, Battle Queen Mangosteen

#blimbo rambles #bug world no mercy #it's here [passes on]#any questions about any of the names are welcomed I'd be happy to explain some details a bit more

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thesims4blogger · 6 months ago

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The Sims Announces “Riviera Retreat” and “Cozy Bistro” Kits

After a major leak last week, The Sims has finally announced the release of its next two kits, Riviera Retreat and Cozy Bistro, scheduled for this Thursday, May 30th.

Unlike previous kit releases that brought us one kit for Create a Sim and another one for Build/Buy, these two offer only items for decorating and building. You can read the full blog post below.

Take In Serene Views with an Antique Ambiance

The Sims 4 Riviera Retreat and Cozy Bistro Kits are Coming to The Sims 4

Curate the best serene spaces by the pool and cozy up at the most incredible bistro for the perfect romantic rendezvous in The Sims 4 Season of Love.

With The Sims 4 Riviera Retreat and Cozy Bistro Kits, players can spend their day relaxing next to deep blue pools in rays of sunlight and their evenings in elegance at the cherished, comfortable hole-in-the-wall bistro.

Achieve Natural Serenity with Peaceful Pools and Sparkling Fountains

Feel all of your troubles melt away as you bask in the peaceful sunrays of your serene and intimate pool with The Sims 4 Riviera Retreat Kit.

Create the most peaceful of spaces showered with timeless antiquity and contemporary styles from the present. Embrace the rustic scenery surrounding your secluded oasis by incorporating stucco textures, beautiful archways, and shimmering waterfalls with comfortable linen furniture, wicker lounge chairs, and vine-covered pergolas.

This secret spot for your Sim will perfectly blend the fresh and clean with the natural to create an ambiance of serenity and connection. The aquamarine pools, naturally formed patina, and pavers can be loved alone or enjoyed with someone special to foster deeper connections.

Discover Incredible Bistros with Charm

Take a stroll on charming streets to your beloved hole-in-the-wall bistro. This treasured locale is perfect for an elegant evening out in the village or a sunlit morning filled with bright aromas in The Sims 4 Cozy Bistro Kit! Each aspect of this kit is perfect to create your new favorite spot with amenities that will accent a bar or lounge community lot.

This captivating little hole-in-the-wall has the perfect antique ambiance for your Sim to mingle with friends or plan an evening for a romantic outing. With welcoming awnings, classic furniture settings, and its inviting atmosphere, this beloved bistro is sure to become a neighborhood favorite. Each aspect of this kit is perfect to create your new favorite spot with amenities that will accent your bar or lounge type lot.

Filled with old world charm, Cozy Bistro sets the scene for sipping the finest Nectar amongst candlelight in the evening and the richest coffee in the rays of sunlight during the day. With tall etched glass windows and doors, polished metal accents, bistro tables and chairs and vintage wall decor, there is no better place to connect with neighbors or dates than in a comfortable, charming, and cozy community favorite.

Find your new favorite hangout spot or enjoy a tranquil pool getaway with The Cozy Bistro and Riviera Retreat Poolhouse builds —available May 30th on The Gallery! These two amazing builds are perfect for those wanting to jump in game to explore all of the new features from both kits and to find inspiration for their own creations!

The Sims 4 Riviera Retreat and Cozy Bistro Kits will be available on May 30, 2024 on PC via EA app™, Mac® via Origin, Epic Games Store and Steam®, PlayStation®5, PlayStation®4, Xbox Series X|S and Xbox One systems.

The Sims 4 Riviera Retreat and Cozy Bistro Kits require The Sims 4 base game, available free to download with all game updates. See minimum system requirements for the pack.

#news #the sims 4 #sims 4 #ts4

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peeercyriceee · 3 months ago

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let the ichor flow through your very core

Summary: Percy has no choice. He will be granted Godhood whether he likes it or not.

Notes: Hi. It is currently 11 pm as I write this. I have to get up early for work tomorrow morning.

I wanted some Percy Jackson angst. No other reason.

Future me here now. Just did a couple of touch-ups here and there to make it more presentable. Enjoy!

—————

“…And for you, Perseus Jackson. Your gift is to be granted Godhood, a most high honor.”

Godhood? Like, immortality? Not getting old? Staying forever 16? Or, well, whatever age he chose to represent. Because that was apparently a thing gods did. Percy’s head spun. He’d be a god. The god of what, he wasn’t sure. Probably something related to Poseidon’s powers.

But… that didn’t feel right. He had so much more he wanted to do as a normal kid — at least as normal as one can get when you’re a demigod. He didn’t want to cheat by being able to have eternity to do whatever he wanted. And he had people in his life, people he cared about. He would lose them all. And for what, never growing old? Never having to worry about bad hair days? All that and more, for the price of slowly losing his family?

Percy tried speaking up, he really did. But he found his throat cracked and dry, filled to the brim with dust and debris from the destruction of the battle, aching from all the yelling and screaming at enemies. Achilles curse be damned, it was doing nothing to heal his broken voice. All he could let out was a hoarse cough as he did his best to clear his throat in order to object the king of the gods’ gift.

But Zeus didn’t like waiting much. And Percy was no exception. In a booming voice, he chanted in a tongue not even Percy recognized. It sounded old, ancient. One of the very first languages, the language of creation itself, if he had a guess.

It started slow. A small tingling sensation of goosebumps crawling over his skin and hair raising straight up to the sky. The feeling one would get right before lightning struck.

And boy did it strike. A flash and a loud crack filled the room, the sound alone enough to shake him to his core. And then the lightning hit.

Everything slowed down. For a second, Percy thought Kronos had pulled one over on him. But this was a different kind of slow motion. It didn’t have that evil and elder feel to it. It wasn’t like moving through amber, which was the way that the Mad Titan’s powers worked. It was smooth, like honey and nectar, flowing gently over him as the electricity tickled his whole body.

Percy watched as his central nervous system lit up, shining through his skin like glow sticks.

There was no pain, however. Just that tingling sensation that grew stronger and stronger.

And as soon as it had started, it was over.

Percy collapsed to his knees, holding himself up with shaking arms.

He felt power — unbelievable surges of power — humming through his body. His fingertips continued to tingle as though he had dunked them in a pool of electric eels. If he looked closely at his hands, he could almost see the golden ichor flowing through his veins.

And it was all wrong. It was wrong. Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong. The levels of sheer wrongness were astronomical. This wasn’t how his story was supposed to go. No. No he was supposed to stay a demigod. He had a life to live. He- he had- there were people he knew and loved and-

People he would watch crumple away with age as he stayed forever young. Friends that he’d be forced to see die at the hands of monsters. Family who would fade from his memory as time marched on for eternity.

Percy stood up on trembling legs, and turned around to face his friends, his family. They weren’t even looking at him, having kneeled in respect for the newly-made god. None of them could see the expression of pure terror crossing his face. The only one who did see was Zeus, and he had a look of boredom, as if he’d done this hundreds of times and this wasn’t anything special.

Finally — finally — he could feel his throat open up, as well as the aches in his body lessening, the pain of the battle losing its sting as Godhood seeped through his very essence.

But Percy, for the first time in his life, was at loss for words. He didn’t want this. Gods he didn’t want this.

“Hail, Perseus. God of the riptide, and protector of demigods.”

———

Notes: hope you enjoyed my sleep-deprived story. I am sure more-awake-future-me will have edited this (currently midnight as I type)

Ao3 link

#percy jackson #Zeus #angst #Percy is a god #pjo fic #pjo fanfic #pjo fanfiction #toast tries to write #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians

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bcenvs3000f24 · 14 days ago

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Unit 09: The Wonderful World of Bees

Growing up, I was lucky to witness the fascinating world of bees firsthand. My grandmother kept bees in Portugal, and watching her work with them sparked my interest in these remarkable creatures. I would accompany her and my father as they tended to the hives, I observed them sedating the bees and extracting honey from a safe distance. From my experience in the apiary I learned that bees are not just simple insects. Bees are key players in ecosystems, with complex behaviours and abilities that make them integral to our planet's health.

My family’s honey, freshly packaged and ready for sale at the town market.

The highly organized social structure of honeybees is fascinating. In the hive, every bee has a role. Worker bees gather pollen and nectar, drones mate with the queen, and the queen herself lays up to 2,000 eggs daily, maintaining the hive's population (Rutter, 2022). One of the most captivating aspects of bee life is their "waggle dance," a form of communication that honeybees use to share the location of flowers with nectar (von Frisch, 1974). Through this dance, they convey distance, direction, and even the quality of food sources, helping the entire colony forage efficiently. Watching a bee dance is like witnessing nature's GPS in action.

youtube

A video showcasing the fascinating "waggle dance" of bees.

Bees contribute far beyond just honey production. About 75% of the world's flowering plants depend on animal pollinators, with bees playing a leading role (Klein et al., 2007). They pollinate approximately 35% of the global food supply, including countless fruits, vegetables, and nuts, all of which would diminish without their pollination. Through their pollination efforts, bees maintain the diversity of plants, supporting various wildlife species. The entire food chain benefits from bees' activity.

A unique trait of bees is their ability to see ultraviolet light. Flowers have evolved to display ultraviolet patterns invisible to the human eye that guide bees directly to nectar sources (Chittka & Menzel, 1992). This incredible vision enhances the bees' efficiency as pollinators, allowing them to gather resources quickly. Their buzzing sound isn't just noise, It's often used in "buzz pollination," a technique to shake loose tightly packed pollen, ensuring maximum collection (Buchmann, 1983). This adaptive method illustrates their evolution as expert pollinators.

A rose flower illuminated under ultraviolet light, revealing intricate patterns that guide bees to its nectar.

Climate change presents significant threats to the survival of bees. Elevated temperatures, shifting precipitation patterns, and more frequent extreme weather events disrupt bees' foraging activities, nesting sites, and reproductive cycles. Some bee species have responded by relocating to cooler regions or altering their activity periods to adapt to these changes (de Jongh et al., 2022). This decline threatens the bees and the ecosystems and agricultural systems that depend on their pollination services.

As a nature interpreter, my role is to help people develop an ethical sense of their place and role in the natural world. By sharing facts and experiences, I aim to inspire appreciation for the interconnectedness of ecosystems and empower individuals to take action to protect them. Interpretation is about more than just presenting information, it's about crafting messages that connect emotionally and intellectually. Effective interpretation has the power to shift public perception from despair to hope, creating unity and a shared sense of responsibility (Beck et al., 2018).

Therefore, it is essential that we implement conservation strategies that support bee populations. These include preserving and restoring natural habitats, promoting agricultural practices that are friendly to pollinators, and reducing the use of harmful pesticides. By taking these actions, we can help ensure that bees continue to thrive and perform their vital roles in our ecosystems.

References

Beck, L., Cable, T. T., & Knudson, D. M. (2018). Interpreting Cultural and Natural Heritage. https://sagamore.vitalsource.com/reader/books/9781571678669/pageid/0

Buchmann, S. L. (2019). Buzz Pollination in Angiosperms. DigitalCommons@USU. https://digitalcommons.usu.edu/bee_lab_bo/266/

Chittka, L., & Menzel, R. (1992). The evolutionary adaptation of flower colours and the insect pollinators’ colour vision. Journal of Comparative Physiology A, 171(2). https://doi.org/10.1007/bf00188925

de Jongh, E. J., Harper, S. L., Yamamoto, S. S., Wright, C. J., Wilkinson, C. W., Ghosh, S., & Otto, S. J. G. (2022). One Health, One Hive: A scoping review of honey bees, climate change, pollutants, and antimicrobial resistance. PLOS ONE, 17(2), e0242393. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0242393

Honey. (2017, October 16). Honey bee waggle dancing. YouTube. https://youtu.be/1MX2WN-7Xzc

Klein, A.-M., Vaissière, B. E., Cane, J. H., Steffan-Dewenter, I., Cunningham, S. A., Kremen, C., & Tscharntke, T. (2007). Importance of pollinators in changing landscapes for world crops. Proceedings of the Royal Society B: Biological Sciences, 274(1608), 303–313. https://doi.org/10.1098/rspb.2006.3721

Night Blooms: A Collection of Ultra-Ultraviolet Botanical Portraits. (2023). Rain Hayes Photography. https://www.rainhayes.com/gallery/night-blooms-uv-flower-blog/

Rutter, B. (2022, May 19). 3 Levels of Bee Hierarchy: Drone Bee, Worker Bee, and Queen Bee. Bestbees.com. https://bestbees.com/2022/05/19/bee-hierarchy/

#save the bees #bees #climate change #honey #waggle dance

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astrovastukosh · 2 months ago

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🚩 World's largest and scientific time calculation system (Research done by Indian sages) 🚩

👉■ Kashtha = 34000th part of a second 👉■ 1 Truti = 300th part of a second 👉■ 2 Truti = 1 Lav, 👉■ 1 Lav = 1 Kshan 👉■ 30 Kshan = 1 Vipal, 👉■ 60 Vipal = 1 Pal 👉■ 60 Pal = 1 Ghadi (24 minutes), 👉■ 2.5 Ghadi = 1 Hora (hour) 👉■3 Hora = 1 Prahar and 8 Prahar 1 Day (Day) 👉■ 24 Hora = 1 Day (Day) or day), 👉■ 7 days = 1 week 👉■ 4 weeks = 1 month, 👉■ 2 months = 1 season 👉■ 6 seasons = 1 year, 👉■ 100 years = 1 century 👉■ 10 centuries = 1 millennium, 👉■ 432 millennia = 1 era 👉■ 2 eras = 1 Dwapar era, 👉■ 3 eras = 1 Treta era, 👉■ 4 eras = Satya Yuga 👉■ Satya Yuga + Treta Yuga + Dwapar Yuga + Kali Yuga = 1 Maha Yuga 👉■ 72 Maha Yugas = Manvantara , 👉■ 1000 Mahayugas = 1 Kalpa 👉■ 1 Nitya Pralaya = 1 Mahayuga (End of life on earth and then beginning again) 👉■ 1 Naimitika Pralaya = 1 Kalpa. (End and birth of Gods) 👉■ Mahalaya = 730 Kalpa. (End and birth of Brahma)

🚩 The biggest and most scientific time calculation system in the whole world is here which is built in our country India. This is our India which we should be proud of.

👉Two genders: Male and female. 👉Two phases: Shukla Paksha and Krishna Paksha. 👉Two worships: Vedic and Tantric (Puranokta). 👉Two Ayan: Uttarayan and Dakshinayan. 👉Three Gods: Brahma, Vishnu, Shankar. 👉Three Goddesses: Maha Saraswati, Maha Lakshmi, Maha Gauri. 👉Three worlds: Earth, Sky, Underworld. 👉Three Gunas: Satvagun, Rajogun, Tamogun. 👉Three states: solid, liquid, and air. 👉Three levels: beginning, middle, end. 👉Three stages: childhood, youth, old age. 👉Three creations: God, Demon, Human. 👉Three states: awake, dead, unconscious. 👉Three tenses: past, future, present. 👉Three Nadis: Ida, Pingala, Sushumna. 👉Three evenings: morning, afternoon, evening. 👉Three powers: will power, knowledge power, action power. 👉Char Dham: Badrinath, Jagannath Puri, Rameshwaram, Dwarka. 👉Four Munis: Sanat, Sanatana, Sanand, Sanat Kumar.

👉Four Varnas: Brahmin, Kshatriya, Vaishya, Shudra.

👉Four Niti: Sama, Daam, Dand, Bhed.

👉Four Vedas: Sama Veda, Rig Veda, Yajur Veda, Atharva Veda.

👉Four Women: Mother, Wife, Sister, Daughter.

👉Four Yugas: Satya Yuga, Treta Yuga, Dwapar Yuga, Kalyuga.

👉Four Times: Morning, Evening, Day, Night.

👉Four Apsaras: Urvashi, Rambha, Menaka, Tilottama.

👉Four Gurus: Mother, Father, Teacher, Spiritual Guru.

👉Four Animals: Aquatic, Terrestrial, Aerial, Amphibious.

👉Four living beings: Andaj, Pindaj, Swedaj, Udbhij. 👉Four voices: Omkar, Akaar, Ukar, Makar. 👉 Four Ashrams: Brahmacharya, Grahastha, Vanaprastha, Sanyas. 👉Four foods: food, drink, lehya, choshya. 👉 Four efforts: Dharma, Artha, Kama, Moksha. 👉Four instruments: Tat, Sushir, Avandva, Ghan. 👉Five elements: Earth, Sky, Fire, Water, Air. 👉Five Gods: Ganesha, Durga, Vishnu, Shankar, Surya. 👉Five senses: eye, nose, ear, tongue, skin. 👉Five actions: taste, form, smell, touch, sound. 👉Five fingers: thumb, index finger, middle finger, ring finger, little finger.

👉Five worship treatments: fragrance, flower, incense, lamp, offering.

👉Five nectar: milk, curd, ghee, honey, sugar.

👉Five ghosts: ghost, vampire, Vaital, Kushmanda, Brahmarakshas.

👉Five tastes: sweet, charkha, sour, salty, bitter.

👉Five airs: Prana, Apana, Vyana, Udana, Samana.

👉Five senses: eye, nose, ear, tongue, skin, mind.

👉Five banyan trees: Siddhavat (Ujjain), Akshayavat (Prayagraj), Bodhivat (Bodhgaya), 👉Vanshivat (Vrindavan), Sakshivat (Gaya).

👉Five leaves: Mango, Peepal, Banyan, Gular, Ashoka. 👉Five daughters: Ahilya, Tara, Mandodari, Kunti, Draupadi. 👉 Six seasons: Winter, Summer, Rainy, Autumn, Spring, Autumn. 👉 Six parts of knowledge: Education, Kalpa, Grammar, Nirukta, Chhanda, Astrology. 👉 Six Karmas: Devpooja, Guru worship, self-study, restraint, penance, charity. 👉 Six vices: lust, anger, pride, greed, attachment, laziness. 👉Seven verses: Gayatri, Ushnik, Anushtup, Vrhati, Pankti, Trishtup, Jagti. 👉Seven vowels: Sa, Re, Ga, Ma, Pa, Dha, Ni. 👉Seven notes: Shadaj, Rishabh, Gandhar, Madhyam, Pancham, Dhaivat, Nishad. 👉Seven Chakras: Sahasrara, Ajna, Vishuddha, Anahata, Manipur, Swadhisthana, Muladhar. 👉Seven times: Sun, Mon, Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, Venus, Saturn. 👉Seven soils: Cowshed, stable, elephant shed, royal gate, Bambi soil, river confluence, pond. 👉Seven continents: Jambudweep (Asia), Plakshadweep, Shalmaliweep, Kushdweep, Kraunchadweep, Shakadweep, Pushkardweep

👉 Join "Astro Vastu Kosh" now to get firsthand information about such interesting and informative "Sanatan Dharma, Astrology, and Vastu Shastra" 👈

#motivational motivational jyotishwithakshayg #tumblr milestone #akshayjamdagni #mahakal #panchang #ram mandir #nature

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meret118 · 9 months ago

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Many flowering plants can self-pollinate, or transfer pollen between their own blossoms for seed generation and propagation, but most of these plants have relied on pollinators such as butterflies and bees to reproduce.

Now — amid declines reported in many pollinator populations — a new study on the evolution of one flower species’ mating system has revealed a remarkable shift that could exacerbate the challenges faced by the plants’ insect partners.The flowers’ reproductive evolution may be linked to environmental changes such as habitat destruction and rapid ongoing decreases in pollinator biodiversity, according to Samson Acoca-Pidolle, who led the study published December 19 in the journal New Phytologist.

. . .

Comparing seeds of wild field pansies collected decades ago in France with the plants’ modern descendants, Acoca-Pidolle and his colleagues discovered that today’s flowers are smaller and produce less nectar as a result of increased self-pollination, which has direct impacts on pollinator behavior. The pansies of the past self-fertilized less and attracted far more pollinators than those of the present, according to the study.

. . .

“This may increase the pollinator decline and cause a vicious feedback cycle,” study coauthor Pierre-Olivier Cheptou told CNN. If plants produce less nectar, there will be less food available to pollinators, which will in turn accelerate the rate at which the animals’ numbers dwindle, he explained.

#Climate change #The end of the world is now

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en8y · 22 days ago

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[IMAGE ID: three rectangular flags with six evenly-sized stripes each. the first flag's stripes from top to bottom, are as follows: warm brown, warm green, tan, bright yellow, golden yellow, and cool brown. there is a cricket in dark brown in the top left, overlaid on top of a bright yellow lemon. the second flag's stripes from top to bottom, are as follows: dull orange-yellow, golden yellow, pastel green, light green-yellow, warm brown, and dull red. there is a starfruit in warm green in the top left, with a dark red mantis with it. the third flag's stripes from top to bottom, are as follows: light orange, bright yellow, off-white, pink-orange, bright red-pink, and dark red. there is a firefly in dark red in the top left, overlaid on top of a pink-red pomegranate. END ID.]

pine cricket: a masculine, feminine, and neutral presenting person who identifies as both a cricket and a lemon.

ghost mantis: a xenine presenting person who identifies as both a mantis and a starfruit.

pink glowworm: a neutral and xenine presenting person who identifies as both a firefly and a pomegranate.

@radiomogai @liom-archive @obscurian @presentationflag-archive

#nectar presentation system #pine cricket presentation #ghost mantis presentation #pink glowworm presentation #cricket presentation #lemon presentation #mantis presentation #starfruit presentation #firefly presentation #pomegranate presentation #presentations #presentation term #mogai coining #mogai identity #identity coining #tech.png

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33-108 · 6 months ago

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"12 Kali and Pratyabhijna

The doctrine of the 12th Kali is one of the earliest concepts of Kālīkula / Kālīkrama. Moreover, this doctrine is the most secret teaching in the tradition of Kashmiri Shaivism, which dominated the territory of Kashmir during the early Middle Ages. In the 10th-11th centuries, Abhinavagupta defined the teachings of the 12th Kali as the most exalted esoteric aspect of Trika. For him, the Kalikrama Goddess, the One who draws Time to Himself - Kālasaṁkarṣaṇī - outside the Supreme (Parātīta) of the goddesses of Trika: The Parā (Parā, the Supreme Goddess) and Parāparā (Aparā, the Inferior), which is doctrinal the basis of his Trika system.

According to Abhinavagupta, the doctrine of the 12 Kali was given to him along the line of spiritual continuity, in which Utpaladeva himself was present. Somananda IX century, the author of Shivadrishti, the first teacher in the Pratyabhidjna system was, according to Abhinavagupta, a follower of Govindaraja, the Teacher of the Krama line, who before his death gave him the teachings of the 12 Kali, set forth in Kālīkulapañcaśatakā.

Somananda gave this teaching along the line of spiritual continuity of Utpaladeva and Lakshmanagupta, and then it was transferred to Abhinavagupta. Utpaladeva did not address directly to his spiritual heritage, which was derived from the followers of Krama (probably in connection with the intentional advancement of the non-anatrical view of tradition).

Nevertheless, his view of sensual experience is imbued with the idea of lunar nectar. This concept, outlined in Śivastotrāvalī, an outstanding work of spiritual literature of Kashmiri Shaivism, is close to the ideas of Kalikrama concerning sense organs. Thus, Krama is an important foundation for the schools of Pratyabhijna,Trika and Spanda.

Perhaps not only these reasons were guided by the commentators Utpaladeva, Kshemaraja and Maheshvarananda, who developed the important ideas of Utpaladeva in the light of Krama-Mahartha. Especially worth mentioning is Ksemaraja, who in his commentary on Shivastotravali Utpaladeva expressed a firm commitment to the Krama system. who developed the most important ideas of Utpaladeva in the light of Krama-Mahartha. Especially worth mentioning is Ksemaraja, who in his commentary on Shivastotravali Utpaladeva expressed a firm commitment to the Krama system.

On the other hand, in the 13th century Mahesvarananda in his commentary (Parimala) on his work Mahārthamañjarī , which is the South Indian version of Kalikrama, developed the deep foundations of Pratyabhijna, he used quotes from Śivastotravali in the context of substantiating the secret Kaula ritual ( kula-yāga), which he regarded as the practice of śāktopāya. From this interesting configuration follows a certain consequence, namely the vague relationship of the schools of Krama and Kaula, which can be logically justified using the pratyabhijna axiomatic system. For example, 12 Kali as an image of reflective awareness (vimarśa).

At the center of the 12th doctrine is the Kalimistic experience embodied in the 12 Suns known as bhānavī-krama. This teaching is considered the most important in the northern transmission (uttarāmnāya).

12 Kali incarnate:

1) the dynamism of the cognitive act (saṁvit-cakra, saṁvit-krama).

2) the universal vibration of consciousness (sāmānya-spanda).

3) the 12 deified senses (prakāśa-cakra, marīcidevatā-cakra, raśmi-cakra). According to this concept, the 12 Kali symbolize the method (krama) and the instrument (senses) of the cognition process that generates reflective awareness ( vimarśa), which is the capacity of pure luminous consciousness (prakāśa, bhāsa) to reflect its eternal nature.

The concept of the vimarsha was of great interest to Utpaladeva, (Īśvarapratyabhijñā-Kārikā ), where he defines the vimarsha as the energy of the action of consciousness (citikriyāśakti), expressed in his commentary ( Vṛtti) on Isvarapratya-bhijna-Karika.

In this sense, the 12 Kali form an analytical model of the process of cognition, where special attention is paid to the energies associated with cognition, the sense organs and thoughts accompanying the process of perception, indicating the path to mystical interaction with phenomenal reality.

Revealed on the basis of purification of thought forms (vikalpa-saṁskāra), 12 Kali awakens pure knowledge (suddha-vidyā). The onset of freedom from thought forms ( nirvikalpa) is achieved when the mind "reaches the state of inner purity and becomes a means of reflection," in this case, what remains is the universal factor of mental representations.

Therefore, "he, who perceives everything as his own essence, thus knows:" all this variety of forms belongs to me, "he, even being in the stream of thoughtforms, reaches the state of Mahesh." Thus, if an individual continues to create thought forms that stem directly from the energy of God, he perceives the universe without any separation and transforms all thought forms into pure reflective awareness, he attains the state of Maheswara.

In addition to these basic epistemological principles, generalized by Pratyabhijna's terminology, the higher theoretical foundation of sense experience and the interpretation of this process, develops in the teachings of Kalikrama and the 12 Kali. In particular, in the sphere where the work of the senses is confirmed by experience, the views of Kalikrama and Utpaladeva merge.

Sensual experience plays an outstanding role in the concept of devotion to Utpaladeva. The pleasure in the senses entails the immersion in the higher awareness of the nature of Shiva, this sudden recognition (sāhasa-abhijñāna), "impregnated with a pure, ever-flowing nectar of consciousness (saṁvit-amṛta), pervading awareness, "All are one."

However, apart from the frantic dynamism characteristic of religious fervor, devotion also has another dimension. At first it seems static, on the whole consistent with what is called the Kalikrama secret doctrine, because for Utpaladeva devotion represents a state of equilibrium and stability (sthiti).

Utpaladeva says:

"Nothing can be used to achieve sustainability (sthiti-krta / sthiti-kṛta) in one's own Self, Luminosity is absolutely indubitable and eternal Let this idea become my stronghold. Only those who are invariably in their true Self (svasthā) are betrayed to you. Having hardened (sthitvā) in the seat of your pure consciousness. May I always honor you, O Lord of the Body, with speech and mind."

The state of immutability (sthiti) is one of the parts of the cognitive process ( sṛṣṭi, sthiti, saṁhāra), in addition, it is also associated with the supreme state of the Kalasamkarsani Goddess, embodying total resilience in the pure consciousness presented in the form of "pure knowledge" of the wheel of consciousness (samvit-chakra = 12 Kali), and is tasted like the lunar nectar of immortality.

The stability state (sthiti) connects the solar and lunar dimensions within the Kalasamkarshani vidya. Therefore, what first appears to be a static basis (sthiti), in pure consciousness includes the amazing wealth of the sensory experience embodied in the Sun 12 Kali.

The work of the senses simultaneously includes both expansion and contraction. During the expansion, one enjoys the blissful nectar of the expanding consciousness, symbolized by the 16 phases of the Full Moon; in the state of compression, there is a delight in the inner lunar nectar of the state of shambhava (śāmbhava) - the 17th phase of the New Moon.

Samvit-Marga, Samvit-Chakra

One of the main problems of the recognition theory (pratyabhijna) of Utpaladeva is an attempt to single out the unique dynamic subject, the "I" of Shiva, which manifests itself in the duality of the prakasa-vimarsha, pure luminous consciousness ( prakāśa/Śiva) and reflective awareness (vimarśa/Śakti). Polarization of prakasha-vimarsh is performed in order to strengthen the experimental basis of ultimate non-duality ( paramādvaita), bound by the knot of their inner unity (abheda / abheda).

This determines the unshakable foundation of the concepts of "transcendence" and "immanence" when they are viewed from the perspective of the phenomenology of perception leading to the recognition of the Absolute ("I" of Shiva) in all objective phenomena. Indeed, in Śhivastotravali Shiva is depicted as endowed with the sun's rays (bhānumarīcyaḥ). Shiva is the goal, the light of pure consciousness ( prakāśa), achievable through the sun's rays of reflective awareness (vimarśa). The sun's rays embody the recognition of the senses, in the work of which reflective awareness is used. For the believer, the way of the senses (saṁvit-mārga) is the path to Shiva. At a more internal level of mystical immersion, feelings are transformed into deities of the senses, whose sensory perception is used as sacrificial substances offered by Shiva.

"Glory to your awful wheel of the goddesses of the senses (śakti-vṛnda)!

Which, sacrificing the objects of feelings, Honor you through enjoyment."

In the commentary on this sloka from Śivastotravali, Ksemaraja defines shakti-vrindu as the wheel of consciousness (saṁvit-cakra). The concept of the samvit-chakra is analyzed in detail in the fourth chapter of the Tantraloka of Abhinavagupta, in the section devoted to the śāktopāya, indicating how the Kali included the dynamism of the cognitive process. The interpretation of shakti-vrinda Kshemaraja is unique. This term does not appear in the Kalikrama texts in the context of the 12th Kali, since it was intended solely to refer to the general reality of the metaphysics of Kalikrama, known as the Vrinda-cakra. However, an exception was found in Cidgaganacandrikā of Shrivatsa.

In this text, dated at least the XIII century, shakti-vrinda is associated with the image of the Goddess as the Sun of Consciousness in the exact meaning of the samvit-chakra. As stated in the text, This is the level of the 12-fold sequence, manifested in the world in the form of words, and also manifested everywhere in the form of triads. The 12-fold system (3x4 = 12) reflects the processing of cognitive energy occurring in the trinity of the cognizing (pramātṛ / pramatma) - the methods of cognition (pramāṇa ) - the object of knowledge (prameya). Each of the aspects follows a four-fold sequence: creation (sṛṣṭi), preservation (sthiti), dissolution (saṁhāra ) and indescribable transcendental state (anākhya ).

A careful awareness of this sequence (krama-parāmarśa ), which is the basis of the whole experience, is a practical application of the samvit-chakra. Creation of the object, which takes place through the opening of the will, is akalitollāsa / sṛṣṭi). Whenever this will comes in contact with an external object, there is maintenance of sensual enjoyment ( tatsambhoga, sthiti). Returning to one's true essence, which is a movement from expansion to contraction, is carvaṇa / saṁhāra.

The ultimate rest of individual objects that are in the unity of consciousness, where they exist as reflections of their original source (the absolute "I" (pūrṇa ahaṁ ) - is a transcendental state of completion (virāma/anākhya).

Anakhya is consciousness , free from the duality of thoughtforms (nirvikalpa), it still knows, because it recognizes the movement of thoughts as a pure luminous consciousness, and, moreover, contains in itself knowledge: "all this is my radiance." Thus, in the transcendental state head (anākhya ) stored : Activity, knowledge and feelings.

Rays of devotion

Utpaladeva uses senses as the basis for chanting of Holy Name, in the sense that the most exalted devotion is the fullness of their realization.

Devotion governs experience through feelings, generating a field of blissful delight, whose strength increases with religious feeling. Perhaps more strikingly, the truth of devotion is proved through sensual ecstasy, which penetrates the subjective and objective essence of the cognitive process.

Utpaladeva writes:

"Only those who are truly devoted to you, who know the subject and object through an expanded range of sensations."

The whole range of sensations included in the "religious methodology", "rays of devotion," as Utpaladeva calls it, leads to the fact that the sensory experience that gives the opportunity to experience a mystical fusion (samāveśa ) is judged to be the most important. Both Utpaladeva and Ksemaraja are equated with devotion (bhakti), obsession (āveśa ) and mystic confluence (samāveśa ), in the sense that religious devotion plays an important role in sensual involvement that leads to immersion in elevated states (rasa), which ultimately leads to interaction with the Absolute.

At this stage, the sense organs work in accordance with the spontaneity inherent in them initially, extracting from the objective sphere an essence, a subtle part in the form of a smell, color, sound, etc., which are means for achieving a secret union with a pure consciousness represented by pleasure in taste (rasa ). This awareness of taste in the realm of the senses is expressed in terms such as "bliss of taste" (rasana), "pleasure" (carvaṇa), "enjoyment of taste" (āsvadā ). They express the idea of universal interpenetration until the final merger. Pleasure with taste symbolizes mastering and means of increasing strength.

Acting at the junction of the semiotic and symbolic, the act of enjoying taste in the ontological sense means the process of dissolution (saṁhāra ), which serves as an example of the interiorization of the objective (the aram is the source of the krama).

Destruction occurs through the rays of the senses (which symbolize the 12 Kali), striving for universal dissolution. This metaphor is often found in the Kalikrama texts, it points to Paramarsh. As Torrell notes, the act of enjoying the taste, represented by terms such as charwana, aswada, rasana, are complementary to the vimarsha and its derivatives.

There is another point of view concerning those who are infatuated with the devotion of the senses. According to these ideas, feelings lead to the recognition of unity in differences (bhedābheda, kramākrama ) because of all-embracing connections and relationships. This is the idea of spreading (vyāpti).

The sense organs, because of their all-pervasive nature, are transformed into instruments acting in the field of the spell of devotion. The pervasive nature of the senses, the concept of interweaving everything where the lower is imbued with the higher, is the basis of the Kalikrama tradition.

The rays represent the all-pervasive nature of the senses. Like solar energy, the rays of the senses illuminate the world separately and all together. The sunshine spreads outward, it is this spreading in all directions that personifies the all-pervasive nature of the senses.

This symbolizes the fact, that everything is manifested by the light of consciousness and, as such, reaches its true being by realizing its unity with everything. As a tool for Vyapti, the senses have the ability to interconnect things. At this level, the senses are already losing their separated character and become inseparable from the higher self. The higher self is the subject who recognizes the movement of the senses as the activity of pure consciousness.

Consequently, the process of connection causes the dynamic nature of the spread, it triggers the senses, which actually play the role of agents of the energy union (mahāmelāpa ). This synthesis clearly emphasizes the central place of identity in the dynamism of the senses, which, being all-pervasive (vyāpaka), leads to the enjoyment of the unified taste of the non-dual consciousness (sāmarasya ) at each moment of perception.

Utpaladeva, in the culmination of his anthem, glorifying devotion, apparently strives to postulate the fundamental role of the feelings involved in the union.Immersion in the work of feelings that permeate objectively and subjectively, and their eternal combinations are implied in the concept of the great feast of worship (mahotsava ).

Utpaladeva writes:

I worship Shiva,

whom during the feast of dissolution

Steadily and hugly embraces Shakti (Parvati)

Through whom the whole universe enjoys

Through food, drink and ornaments.

Oh, glory to the great feast of worship of the

Sweet and inexplicable

With which even falling tears

Have the taste of the nectar of immortality.

In the context of tantric practice, Mahottsava means the principle of excess of feelings related to the great feast where siddhis and yoginis come to join the union (melāpa) for the sole purpose of producing nectar (amṛta ). In fact, Mahesvaranada prefers this interpretation, placing the concept of the Mahotsava Utpaladeva at the center of his definition of the shaktopaya from the position of Kaula-Krama.

However, restraining the desire to put aside purely ritualistic meanings, we advance the "cognitive" interpretation, stating that siddhi and yogini are an image of the deities of the senses and senses that merge in a pulsating union that generates the nectar of bliss. The nectar of bliss is an enlarged consciousness characterized by the outpouring of the energies of the senses that permeate the phenomenal being from within and without. The flow of poured energy, experienced through a piercing gust of feelings, generates a state of unity that allows everything to manifest, maintain and dissolve in an endless chain of interconnected compounds. This is inherent in the very nature of the senses, which they enjoy in the state of expansion and contraction of their internal energies, which include all things in their essential unity.

Purna: The moonlit nectar of bliss

All levels of Śivastotravali are permeated with a strong desire for spiritual experience of perfect completeness (pūrṇa ) manifested in the lunar nectar of immortality. Utpaladeva most clearly expressed the importance of purnah, connected with the highest state of shambhava (śāmbhava). This idea is illustrated by the oozing nectar of immortality (amṛta-pūrṇatva ), which brings bliss and fills the phenomenal world. Perfect completeness (pūrṇa/paripūrṇa ) is the realization of the ontological identity between the being of the phenomenal world and the pure consciousness of Shiva, which is expressed in the statement:

"the whole world is your perfect fullness." Moreover, the attainment of perfect completeness (pūrṇa ) with the help of the senses is a necessary condition for their deification, which empowers feelings with "radiant splendor".

Purna is often associated with the symbolism of the moon, illustrating the self-regenerating source, which at the same time empties, and fills itself with the nectar of moonlight. The full moon symbolizes the highest degree of external saturation; The new moon, on the contrary, symbolizes the peak of inner fullness. Utpaladeva takes into account both these dimensions in her description of the lunar nectar, which generates the experience of bliss.

"Purna - the full moon of sensual experience

Even relying on objects of

Feeling bestow upon the

Followers the nectar of immortality"

According to the interpretation of the concept of feelings in the Kalikrama tradition, the experience of objectivity, achieved through the solar action of the senses, is embodied in the moon nectar, which is a form of bliss. When the rays of the sense organs are filled with pure will (icchā ) to flow outward, they bring the sensory experience to its fullness.

The nectar of bliss arises from the desire to make the sensory experience complete. In this state, "concentrated consciousness" is experienced as a fivefold object of feelings. The ten rays of the sense organs, together with the mind (manas ) and intellect (buddhi ), regarded as one, give rise to 11. Thus, the bliss of sense experience generates 16. Number 16 is the symbol of the full moon of objectivity, nectar is its form; this bliss, because it is based on the great bliss of the object of will.

"Purna aham - the new moon of perfect fullness "I"

Bows to

Whose exceptional activity is the destruction of the

Great darkness of error

Whose radiance exceeds any light

Whose symbol is the Moon The

Lord that is free from thoughtforms (nirvikalpa) The perfect fulness of supreme bliss ( mahānandapūrṇa )."

The perfect completeness of the Self (pūrṇa ahaṁ) lies at the heart of Pratyabhijna's goal, because it represents the highest state of shambhava (śāmbhava). This state of freedom from thoughtforms (nirvikalpa), where the three parts of the cognitive process (subject, object and methods of cognition) are nondifferent from pure consciousness (cinmātra ). This identification is maintained by enjoying one taste (ekarasa ). Purna aham is a state of rest (viśrānti) in which the mind and feelings, free from separation, act by the energy of bliss (ānanda-śakti ).

The interconnection of the perfect fullness of the self (pūrṇa ahaṁ ) and the dynamism of the cognitive process, embodied in the functioning of the senses, is described by the symbolism of reflection.Purna-aham is the mirror (bimba ) foundation of absolute freedom (svātantrya), which maintains the unity of the play of universal reflections (pratibimba ) unfolding in the cognitive process. Given the absorbing nature of Shiva, which realizes the universal dissolution, the perfect completeness of the Self (pūrṇa ) is symbolically portrayed as the 17th phase of a new moon, but not as a full moon.

17th lunar phase symbolizes the perfect completeness of the inner realization, containing the lunar nectar of immortality, poured out in the manifestation of objective reality.

"Purna is a combination of the superconscious (unmanā ) and the conscious (samanā ).

Wherever I am with the body,

speech and mind

All this is just you.

Let this highest truth be

Completely realized (paripūrṇa ) in me."

Having carefully examined the sensory element of Utpaladeva's views on the mystical experience, we can see that the perfect realization (paripūrṇa) experienced as a taste of the nectar of immortality (amṛta ) is a fusion of two states.

The first state of expansion pulsating in the enjoyment of the senses, is harmonized by the second state of rest of the shambhava. In Kalikram, they are respectively associated with states known as samana and unman.

Samana means the sensual pleasure of the organs of perception, experienced as amazement (camatkṛti), giving the senses an outlet through which the adept attains the beauty of the sensory world in various forms: sound, touch, etc .; This sequence (krama ) of the flow of feelings, flowing in and out, is experienced as a pleasure in taste (rasana ).

When this activity ceases to exist, it dissolves, consciousness enters the state of unman, akrama. The state of the unman is a form of eternally conscious radiance, in which the various cycles of perception are identical to the pure consciousness of Shiva. In the state of unman, objectivity is perceived as the enjoyment of nectar (amṛta ).

Through this nectar, an inner outpouring of the senses takes place, and the adept feels that the phenomenal world is immersed in the divine stream. The fusion of these two states, occurring in an inconsistent sequence (karamākrama), is rooted in the higher state of stability (sthiti ) that underlies Kalikrama's view of sensory experience.

- Aleksandra Wenta"

#esoteric #occult #hinduism #shiva #tantra #goddess kali #goddess #shakti

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