#get FLATTEN roach

[yi3248]

will the task force accept cheese? i got parmesan… mozzarella… orange cheese…

yeah uh, i got cheese, do they want?

what did you put in the cheese???

[melpomenelamusa]

I Didn’t Mean That - Chimeras

~Special Chapter~

WoW´s Birthday Whump Event DAY 11: Used as bait/Parting words regret

CW: Parting words regret, used as bait, non-consensual drugging.

A/N: These stories are non-canon, take them as an AU if you want ;)

"How many more times is the same thing going to happen?" Warrick ran his hands through his hair, almost imagining it falling out from sheer stress. "I’ve told you so many times to be careful."

"I try to be careful!" Elafi shouted, raising his voice. "It’s not my fault that everyone who sees me either wants to put me in a cage or hang me on their living room wall!"

"Being careful means knowing not to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong," Warrick snapped. "That means if I say ‘stay here’, you stay. Period."

"So I can never leave? I have the right to see the world like a normal person!"

"You’re not a normal person!"

Warrick’s voice echoed through the walls of the living room. Elafi clenched his fists and frowned deeply.

"You don’t understand me, and you never will."

Warrick crossed his arms, his brows furrowed in the middle of his forehead.

"No, I don’t understand you, and I don’t need to understand you to know this is a tantrum, and you’re just a whiny little brat right now. So, if you’re not going to contribute anything useful, then go to your room."

"Don’t try to control me, you’re not my dad!"

As the words left his mouth, Elafi froze, as if he’d just realized he had spoken a curse aloud. Warrick, on the other hand, couldn’t stop the wave of fury that stirred inside him.

"No, I’m not, and I don’t want to be. I only decided to help you one day because I stupidly thought I was doing the right thing—but I had no idea the shitstorm I was getting myself into, because taking care of you is a goddamn headache."

"Th-then sell me and buy yourself a pet!" Elafi shouted. His shoulders were trembling, and he looked absolutely furious. "If taking care of me causes you so much trouble, then sell me or let someone else do it. I’m not your responsibility. You only do it because you feel guilty about what happened to your son!"

Silence.

"What did you just say?" Warrick spoke through gritted teeth, his tone turning hostile, like a predator about to strike.

"I’m not your son. And if you don’t want to take care of me, then don’t."

"You're right. You’re not Devin. You’re not my son and you never will be."

Even without shouting, Warrick’s words were as violent as knives, making Elafi stumble back a step as if he’d been stabbed. His eyes went wide, and his ears drooped and flattened against his head. Seeing the fear in the teen’s gaze, Warrick realized how badly he’d messed up; but at that moment, he was too wound up to think clearly about the consequences of what he’d just done.

"If you want to leave, leave. Do whatever you want. Run straight to the poachers’ den, Roach’s lab, or the black market—I don’t care. If you don’t value your own life, that’s not my problem."

Elafi shivered. His eyes filled with tears. He pressed his lips together, furrowed his brow in outrage, and said:

"Then I’m leaving!"

"Fine, go!"

Elafi stomped out of the cabin and disappeared into the forest. Warrick stayed behind, alone. His head was hot and his thoughts a mess. He poured himself a glass of cold water and drank it, feeling the liquid slide down his throat and slightly calm his emotions. As the minutes passed, his anger began to settle, and with it, his rational mind returned to the argument.

I was such an asshole, he thought, replaying the words he’d said to Elafi and the exact moment he knew they had shattered him.

Yes, Warrick had been angry. And yes, Elafi got into way too many troubles and was reckless and naïve—but he was also sweet, kind, and helpful, and made Warrick feel at peace.

No, it wasn’t just because of Devin that Warrick had agreed to keep looking after Elafi.

Why are you so upset? It’s true you’re not his father, said a voice in his head. Warrick knew that, but the words still hurt.

He ran a hand down his face and looked at the clock. Elafi’s forest walks never lasted more than a few hours. He promised himself that when the boy came back, they would talk things through calmly, and he’d apologize.

He threw himself onto the couch, covering his eyes with one arm and decided to rest a while. Sometime later, Warrick heard the cabin door opening. He assumed Elafi was back, and that the awkward apology moment had arrived—but he was so exhausted he didn’t want to get up just yet.

"What a lovely home," said a man’s voice suddenly.

Warrick bolted upright, but a powerful punch to the stomach knocked him back onto the couch.

Standing in front of him, flanked by two men in military uniforms, was a man with slicked-back black hair and dark goggles hiding his eyes, walking forward with slow steps and a fake smile on his face. Warrick recognized him immediately.

"You…!"

"Ah, the hunter. We meet again," said Roach in a sing-song voice. "After so long searching, we finally found what we were looking for."

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," Warrick growled.

Roach’s smile remained.

"Of course you do. And I’ll only ask once: Where is the deer chimera boy?"

"How should I know?" Warrick said, feigning indifference. "We haven’t seen each other since then."

"I don’t like liars," said Roach. His face went cold, and his voice turned hard. "If you won’t tell the truth, I guess we’ll just have to wait here for him to come back."

Fear gripped Warrick’s chest. He couldn’t let these people hurt Elafi—not again. But before he could react, Roach pulled a syringe from his pocket and, with terrifying speed, plunged it into Warrick’s neck and injected its contents.

Within seconds, Warrick’s legs gave out, and he collapsed to the floor on his hands and knees. His vision blurred, everything turning double and shapeless, and his eyelids grew heavy.

"Hunter, don’t go just yet. You’re going to help us catch the chimera boy," said a mocking voice from somewhere above his clouded head. "Usually, the hunter goes after the prey, but this time we’ll switch roles. And for that, we need your valuable cooperation."

"Fff...fuck...you..." Warrick slurred, barely able to form the words.

Warrick would never hurt Elafi—he would rather die than let someone hurt the boy again. Panic filled his chest, but his body no longer had the strength to fight, thanks to the drugs now coursing through his veins. His final moments of consciousness were spent hoping Elafi would hate him so much after their fight that he’d never want to return to the cabin. That was the only way he might be safe.

Unfortunately, he knew the boy’s heart was far too noble for something like that.

Warrick felt utterly miserable, and that was the moment his mind went dark, and everything slipped away into unconsciousness.

Taglist: @scoundrelwithboba@morning-star-whump@lancedoncrimsonwings@3-2-whump. @whumped-by-glitter @string-of-broken-hearts @alyscat @oddsconvert @what-if-i-just-did @bacillusinfection @writinglittlepains @washing---machine@bilightningwhumper@enasolos@inhurtandincomfort

Next

Oh no.

[sniffanimal]

HRT that turns you into a leopard gecko:

immediate results: start to feel colder all the time

2-4 weeks: skin itches a lot, vegetables start to churn your stomach, mucous membranes like your eyes and mouth feel drier

3-6 months: skin starts to flake off in noticeable dandruff-like patches all over your body. you should start using an oil based moisturizer since the water based ones just dont do the trick anymore. You should also start transitioning your diet to insectivore. your coccyx hurts when you sit for too long.

6-9 months: a nub of a cartilage tail starts to work it's way out of your lower back. the skin it creates is smooth and doesn't look like scarring at all. it even has some spots on it. you've started noticing freckles here and there. Your eyes are also looking different, rounder and muted color.

12 months: your doctor offers genetic testing to approximate what morph you will be, since human phenotypes aren't a 100% accurate at predicting it. You decline, you want to be surprised. You've reached a point where you can't hide it anymore if you wanted to. Your hair is falling out all over now. Your skin peels off in patches like a sunburn, and every new layer is yellow or orange and some have spots. Your teeth sit weird in your mouth and feel smaller. Your tail is about a foot long now, it has a long way to grow. You mostly cook with cricket flour or eat premixed meals since you're not fully on board with eating half your weight in straight up bugs yet, but you're relieved roaches don't freak you out anymore. They just make you hungry.

18 months: your eyes are visibly spaced further apart, and your nose is starting to flatten out. you know your face won't look 100% like you want it to, the hormones can only do so much, but you already look positively reptilian. you shaved your head to help the hair finish up, and are surprised you don't miss it. your fingers feel less nimble now, and you have to wear braces to get anything done during the day. your claws take nail polish just fine. You pick up a new space heater at the store even though it's only August.

2 years: Your skin has evened out and mostly sheds all at once now. You think you're a tangerine carrot tail, judging by how yellow and spotted your body is, but orange and white your tail is. You're comfortably at a point where people stop asking "so what are you? a lizard?" as soon as they see how fat your tail is. your dating profile pics have a little too much tongue in them.

6 years+: some surgery helped fix some of the last little snags, tucking all your bottom bits into a neat vent, and finishing the shaping on your face. You don't even scar from them either, a win-win. Your partner is now used to running you a steaming shower whenever they see you rubbing your back on the corner of a wall. They're also good at judging your diet a bit too closely thanks to your squishy fat tail. When your work got too busy for a month and you lived off tea and handfuls of grasshopper granola, they could tell you weren't yourself as your tail thinned and drooped. They scheduled some time off so the two of you could go to the desert. It's so warm, even at night, this time of year, and you can see all the stars. They didn't want to kiss you after you ate a scorpion off the floor, but it was all worth it because you felt recharged, refreshed, and at home in your gecko body again.

---

just in case I never get around to drawing this I wanted to at least write it lol

[seven-oomen]

It's alright, I got all I need | Huskerdust | Trans Husk au snippet

The way Angel’s smile widens brightens his world like a little slice of heaven. Not even Nifty running past them with the decapitated corpses of those roaches in her hands, can dull the glow of that smile.

The minute they step into Angel’s room Fat Nuggets greets them at the door with happy little oinks and squeaks. Angel scoops the little guy into his arms and cuddles him close for a minute before throwing him gently back on the bed. “Love you, little buddy, but I got a bath that’s calling my name.”

“Hey buddy,” He takes a few seconds to scratch the little hell hog behind the ears and under his chin. “He’s just had a rough day, we’ll be right with ya.”

He looks up and Angel’s smiling in the doorway to the bathroom, that soft smile that turns his insides to mush and heats up his cheeks. He’s blushing like a school girl around her first crush. He’s better than that. He knows that. But when it comes to Angel, things feel… different.

“Bath?” He offers.

“Bath.” Angel agrees, grinning as he walks past him. He’s almost sure Angel’s letting his eyes roam over his form, though when he turns to look at him, his eyes meet his own. “Thanks, whiskers.”

He doesn’t answer and just draws the water to the right temperature, picking one of those chemically strawberry scented soaps Angel likes so much. His nose twitches at the sickly sweet scent, his tail flicks out and the feathers brush over the tiled floor with soft rustling. It’s not his thing, but Angel likes it and that’s enough for him. Sides, by the time Angel’s dry the scent will have faded to a degree that he can actually stand it.

“Wanna join me, handsome?” Angel’s fingers trace over the top of his left wing, running from his shoulder to the bend as he leans in.

The sudden change in demeanor ruffles his feathers and raises his hackles instinctively.

“Angel…” He warns. Things were going relatively well. But he also knows that after a day like this, Angel’s instincts to please and seduce are still strongly ingrained in him. He fucking hates it when it’s directed at him. It makes him feel like- like before. He grumbles under his breath and shakes his head as if to shake the thought out of his mind physically.

Angel gets the hint, thankfully, and steps back with his hands raised. “Alright, alright. I hear ya. Can’t fault a guy for trying.”

He meets his gaze for a few seconds. The tips of his ears tickle the top of his wings where they’re flattened against his head. “I’ll wait for you in the other room. Just… call me when you need something.”

He doesn’t wait for the response, though he’s sure he picks up a very soft “sure” before he closes the door behind him. It’s not that he doesn’t- He sighs. He likes Angel, as Anthony. He likes him a lot more than he lets on. The problem is that he absolutely hates the persona that Angel has to put on with everyone else. People don’t do that unless they’ve had bad experiences with being themselves. He knows that all too well. Many people did that around him during his time as an overlord. And back then he reveled in it. Now? He fucking hates it, with every fiber of his being.

[residentfurry]

Oc infodump/ Verdugo speculative biology

@wisecrackingeric-2

This is part Mari post part verdugo speculative biology post! So please keep in mind this is all speculative x)

The basic story of the Verdugo is that there are two of them; Salazar's scientist and housekeeper. They are bioweapons that are basically made of gene spliced human, insect, and Plaga DNA, made by the scientist before turning himself into a Verdugo.

Mari is based off/ was infected by the scientist Verdugo (the one you see in the main remake) so we'll be mostly focusing on the traits of that one mostly!

(Also it's not confirmed in-game that the scientist Verdugo could infect people, but in the DLC the housekeeper Verdugo infects Ada with what seems to be it's own type of parasite/plaga, since it gets expelled from her body after the death of the Verdugo and that doesn't happen with other Plaga. I like to think that if Ada hasn't killed the Verdugo, she would've turned into one.)

Which was kinda the inspiration for Mari! Kinda a fun "what if" situation. What if the Verdugo had infected someone besides Ada, having been able to do so before?

As a Verdugo, she shares many similarities with with the insects the scientist had extracted the DNA from. Based off the Verdugo models, I would assume that they're cricket/grasshopper DNA! Several of the species I have as examples below are actually from Spain/Europe, so it's very likely the scientist used them in his experiments!

(Insects pictured: Mole cricket, Bush cricket, Giant Weta, and Grasshopper)

The legs, mandibles, even the unique 'hands' are all features that the Verdugo have! (Or at least variants of them) Even though Mari's design doesn't start far from the in-game models^ I usually keep the insect part of her in mind when drawing her!

The part where my own concepts/ speculation comes in is usually in her behavior.

Which begs some questions!

Could Mari chirp like a grasshopper or cricket?

Yes! It's my personal headcanon that she could grow wings and shed them at will (as alot of bioweapons in re can mutate at will) and while she has these wings, she could technically chirp!

What would her wings look like?

I would imagine that they would be transparent or a kind of ashy brown.

How does a Verdugo like Mari crawl through small spaces like vents? (Like in the game?)

I personally headcanon that she can flatten her body, much like a roach! This helps her fit into small spaces that she shouldn't otherwise fit into.

What other similarities does Mari have with insects?

Like Grasshoppers, Mari's ears is located on her side, just above her legs!

Does Mari have abilities like the other Verdugo/ bioweapons?

Mari can do basically everything the scientist Verdugo could do. For example, she is extremely difficult to kill and is pretty much impossible to kill by gunfire. She can also transform into that long-tailed form (like in the Verdugo fight with Leon) and use that tail with precise accuracy. Other than that, she has passive regeneration and can regrow a limb if lost in under a week. She also has the same weaknesses as the scientist Verdugo and becomes sluggish in the extreme cold. (TLDR: she has strength, agility, and can kill anything in many different ways while being kinda untouchable herself. Not that she'd want to, of course, but she could!)

Could she infect others and turn them into Verdugo?

Yes :3c

How does she get along with Ashley? Shouldn't she be under some sort of control via Plaga?

She may still have some residual instincts (because she is a bioweapon after all) but she isn't influenced to directly harm Ashley or well...anyone.

Usually Verdugos and bioweapons are hyper aggressive, but Mari isn't. She isn't "mind controlled" like the other Verdugo/cultists (at least not in the same way.) I don't know if I want to reveal too much of her backstory just yet but there's a good legitimate reason for all that stuff. ^ I tried to make her as canon adjacent as possible so she could actually be a legitimate character within the re universe.

But what was the thought behind The creation of Mari?

The whole reason I wanted to make Mari is to basically...give explanation to what Ashley is doing after the events of re4, as well as give her some more character depth and explore what we really don't get to see in the games: how does a bioweapon event/ attack effect someone long term? I wanted to explore Ashley's trauma and her desires and what she decides/wants to do moving forward, and Mari is kind of a narrative device to help with that. She doesn't just stop existing once she's saved, ya know?

Did I create Mari just because I wanted more Ashley content? Yes. Absolutely. I love Ashley as a character and I think she's so interesting!! I want to see more of her!! So Mari is just my excuse to pretend that I'm Capcom making filler content for what Ashley's doing LOL

Overall, props on whoever designed the Verdugo in the remake, because it's one of my fav monster designs ever and is just so beautifully detailed (as well as it's partial xenomorph inspiration!) and is just so cool in general!

So ya that's some facts/speculation about Mari and the Verdugos! ^-^

[secret-bug-pain-blog]

@febuwhump Day 29 - Not Allowed To Die

And now, this finishes. Fun fact, this was finished... second out of all of these prompts. Behold, the return of our Cool Fic That We Need To Actually Write On Its Main Front. It's been a lovely Febuwhump! Just... don't worry about what we're doing over here.

It knows that it's probably waited too long already.

The flattened shapes in its claws waver under the force of its magic, the charmcraft weave tangled above them warping and weaving apart. They can sense the torn edges even without the clarity of touch in their claws, Blight magic highlighting the gaping wounds as they decay at the enchantment. It can still sense the mind trapped within them, dulled as it is.

It has been so long since it has lost a member of its colony. It will not allow its record to be broken now.

Snap.

The weave around one of her parts breaks, Kjdrira's rot finally overcoming any strength it might have bad. It traps the fresh-bleeding segment of limb beneath its claws as it begins to work on the next one. Were it any other curse, it knows, the death of its sufferer would have disrupted the spell-weave, but even the damage to her charm-ridden body is not enough to undo it on its own, what should be mortal injury simply shrugged off.

The code they wrote to track her body's disparate parts comes to good use, at least, even if the tiny pieces are awkward to wrangle into place beneath its claws. It takes more effort than it cares to admit to fish the bits of her out of the sack without damaging them further, its claws made for gripping stone and roach-shell rather than handling fragile paper.

She was an eroding disk from the moment that it made contact with her. It should not feel so broken-up that its efforts were made to one likely to die. Perhaps it has been too long since it's had to deal with a Sibling it knew would fail. It should know better than to get so torn up over bugs who never would have survived.

There is so very little holding her mind together, compared to its own programs. It is all that it can do to keep her partially conscious as it works.

The pain-fuzzed thoughts float around the edges of its mind are subtly different to those of the Siblings it is familiar with. Not designed to operate with the same network, even if they are compatible - ZB-162's frustration at their null-target conversations seems to make just a sliver more sense, now that the bug is close enough to register the differences between its own driver and the spell that governs the eroding drive.

Snap.

The programming around connections aids it far more than anything else might. It cannot read the inscriptions on the tiny pieces of sealing-paper, but it can feel out the unshielded thoughts in the disk's mind just enough to orient itself, its claws echoing sensations into the matrix that is its new colonymate's mind. It isn't quite sure if she can sense it anymore - she would have hated feeling them poke about her thoughts, were she more lucid - but it tries not to dwell on it.

There is only so much time for it to work before the body will grow cold, and it is a mage, not a charmsmith. It knows enough by now to be well aware of how unprocessed dead flesh impacts the living.

Snap. Snap. Snap.

Fingers connect to hand connect to arm connect to shoulder. It's hasty work, but it doesn't matter how obvious the join is as long as it works. Guts shiver back into place, joined in ropes of tangled scar tissue, parts of abdomen partially fused together as it forgoes mobility for speed. It can fix it later, it knows, but the base work must be in place first.

Kjdrira rebuilds as it goes, preventing its magic from killing the bug outright. It must destroy to rebuild, rot away the frayed edges before it can merge them back together, and it is well aware of just how much harm it can do undirected. Its magic is caustic, and it eats away at all the organic matter it encounters, breaking it down to biomass and magic fuel. It takes careful work to avoid making things unusable.

Snap.

The heart, set back in place, threatens to stop for a few heart-wrenching minutes. Kjdrira forces itself into the cracks, twisting as much of a claw around it as it can. Manual stimulation forces the heart to beat, even in absence of the ganglia that might have carried the command.

The damage to her body is obvious, great weeping rents torn in fragile shell. The wounds attempt to proliferate every time that it undoes the enchantment on a damaged segment, only force of will and its own experience with repairing its colonymates holding it through.

With the most damaged, it is forced to begin stitching pieces back together before the enchantment even finishes releasing. The modularity of it makes it feel strange against their claws when they put her back together. One segment of her abdomen, overtaken with rending claws, connects to two segments nearly undamaged. The twisting in her flesh where it sewed her back together meets with unmarked flesh, an abrupt line between scar tissue and healthy flesh. It can only hope that it doesn't have too bad of an impact later.

There are still pieces missing. It tries not to dwell on them. A stinger isn't vital, even if the lack of indication to its location chafes at it. The lack of eyes is something that it did on her request, anyways. It is survivable. It is something that it can help.

The final torn card awaits.

Her body still lays empty. This card is marked as something vital, same as her heart was, same as most of her inner organs were. It's something that, from what little it can glean from her programming, is related to her central nervous system, a piece that would have catastrophic consequences on her thought capacity if left out.

It lays a claw on her empty body's forehead.

it takes less than a second for its magic to map out her vacant body. Even without its occupant, it seems, it still lives. A host without anything to drive it, a beating heart with no intelligence behind it.

The half-conscious tatters of an eroding disk tangle around its mind.

It proceeds.

The strands of the enchantment begin to snap, one by one.

This repair will have to be quick. Their fast work is bulky and clunky, they know, more scar tissue than anything usable, but they can improve on them afterwards. As much as they know now, they cannot fix death - cannot call the soul back to a vacent body, cannot call back data lost to the beyond.

It has one chance, and nothing more. The sequence that holds its colonymate's eroding mind is not physical, not like it once suspected - there are no crystals to back her mind up on, no hardware to catch her when she falls. If it fails here, she will die, thought-matrix sputtering into irretrievable nothing.

It won't let that happen.

Her body's head pops open, needing greater effort than expected, veins quickly sealed shut before they can bleed on the floor. The torn card in its claw is dripping hemolymph and brain-fluid, the enchantment unweaving in knots and binds. It keeps a firm claw on what it can retain of its sibling's mind, holding the knot of her thoughts closed even as the rest of the enchantment disintegrates.

Nerves knit into ganglia. Flesh joins with flesh. It can feel the ungraceful knots of scar tissue form, as quickly as it can make them, and it only barely manages to shift things around enough to avoid putting too much pressure on the brain. It only has minutes before the cut-off blood flow has major consequence, less time before the ambient cold threatens to damage its new sibling's body - flesh is so much more delicate than crystal, living bodies so much more fragile, and it can feel her heart threatening to give out even as it works.

It does not stop.

It will proceed. It will fix this. There is no possible other option. It is Kjdrira, it is the protector of its Siblings, it is the defender of this lab. It will succeed, because there is no other choice but to succeed.

It holds the tatters together with bare claws. It keeps the surgery going with little more than raw will.

It is loyal to its siblings. It is strong, it is capable, it knows what it is doing now far more than when it was a newly-sprouted experiment grasping at straws to save its siblings.

It is better than it was then.

Again, the shreds of consciousness try to flicker out. Again, it draws them back.

The procedure will be risky. But the eroded disk will not die.

It will not allow it.

[jennystahl]

It’s time for some OC chatting over coffee! ☕️ When you get this ask, feel free to share one fun fact about an OC of your choice. Then, share with 10 (or fewer — no pressure!) others to spread the OC love.

hii gabby ☕ thanks for the ask, I'm gonna be annoying and answer it with a short little fic I finished earlier instead of a fun fact <3 it's ~technically~ for october writing challenges but idc. darya is for my fallout denver rp with @newbordeaux

A quiet scuff against metal. She wasn't allowed a gun yet, so Darya held the baton in a tight grip. Without her gloves, the sweaty sheen on her palms would have made it slip.

There were reports that morning of bugs. Before graduating, she was always the one calling for friends and parents to kill a spider or a fly; now she had no choice but to be the one others called for help. She was a vault security guard, and she had to take her job seriously. She couldn't let the security officers and her teacher think they had chosen the wrong woman for the job.

They had, of course. But she didn't want to make it too obvious.

Darya listened closely, taking tip-toed steps down the hallway. Her boots were slightly too big—regulation female size—and she wore two pairs of socks to rectify it. They were itchy and uncomfortable, and that's all she could think about, even while trying to keep an ear out for more scuttling. Then a brown mass fell from the ceiling and she shrieked.

The scratching had been above her, not in front of her. She scrambled backwards, slipping on her own clumsy feet and landing hard on her rear. The metal vault floor sent an ache through her lower back, but the radroach in front of her wasn't worried about her pain. It was skittering right towards her.

She flailed the baton around, trying to stand while keeping an eye on the roach. Her Pip-Boy's light was shining off its husk, sending chills up her spine at the thought of it touching her.

The baton wasn't going to cut it. She slammed it hard against the roach's exoskeleton and it merely ran away, not a single dent on its brown body. She couldn't just let it go.

She ran after it, baton discarded on the hallway floor. It could not match the speed of a human, but Darya's squeamishness was keeping them at a respectable distance. She closed in on it at the end of the hall, where it attempted to crawl up the wall.

Before she could psyche herself out of it, she raised her right foot and smashed the boot against it. It squealed—she couldn't tell if it was an actual death rattle or just the sound of a body exploding—and slumped to the floor, brown, green, and red ooze leaking from beneath.

Darya felt a rush and jumped, stomping down on it again with two feet. It flattened and splattered. Her shin guards were covered in muck and so were her boots. It was the first roach she'd ever killed, her first successful day on the job. (Almost a year, and she'd yet to feel success.)

Now it would certainly be up to her to find a mop and head to the incinerator.

[jonnysinsectcatalogue]

Brazilian Giant Cockroach - Blaberus giganteus

Moving into week two of insect exhibits at the Toronto Zoo, we now come to explore species of a more tropical variety. It will begin with this post and then 2 more to follow over the next few days. And so, behold a Cockroach colony featuring giants among their world! The stature of these Roaches make them among of the largest of their order. For comparison to another tropical specie, a majority of the adult specimens here are around the same length as the Madagascar Hissing Cockroach (reportedly between 5-10cm), while some are even longer and certainly wider. Large as both species are, there are still larger Roaches out there such as those in the genus Megaloblatta (with 'mega' in the name, there's no contest), but today it's all about the Brazilian Giant Cockroaches. Some individuals here are likely to be longer than those I've seen in the ROM's insect exhibits. However, it's hard to judge without a ruler, and more importantly B. giganteus appears more dainty compared to its Madagascar relative, which appears more compact due to the lack of wings. On the subject of wings, the adults in the terrarium are all capable of flight. However, just because they can doesn't mean they have the inclination (it is a small, protected exhibit). Under most conditions, they are reported to be infrequent fliers, only doing so when necessary (for escape and dispersal potentially).

A quick judgment suggests that male Brazilian Giant Roaches are found to be airborne more as females are heavier. Regardless of age, weight or size, sprinting and scurrying is the best option for a Roach, and a flattened body allows an escape beneath a stone, log or into a crack in their environment. Young nymphs learn quickly how fast they can run and the only get better as they molt. I wished I could've glimpsed that among the individuals here, either from an adult or the wingless nymphs. There are many late instars of the latter affixed to their barky decorations, but if you examine closely there are smaller, trilobite-like nymphs hiding about. This begs the question on how many oothecas (egg cases, see the Mantis cases for reference) and fertilized females were and/or are around in this exhibit? Reason being that population dynamics and control are necessary in such a close environment, and once a B. giganteus female is fertilized by a male, she's set for life in terms of offspring! Looking at the undersides of the individuals here, there are likely to be more females in this exhibit (or maybe balanced, hard to tell) than males (males have additional styli appendages at the abdomen's tip), giving them something in common with the next insect I'll be sharing from the Toronto Zoo.

Since the insects belong to the Toronto Zoo, I’ve marked them with the Mantis icon. Pictures were taken August 27, 2023 at the Toronto Zoo with a Google Pixel 4. Please go and visit the animals (insects very much included).

[cxpperhead]

His scales are hot to the touch despite the fact it's currently raining, droplets of water sliding right off his glossy form. It's practically torrential at this point, the rain of a dying summer lashing his body as he ascends but Copperhead perseveres in spite of the thunderstorm, predatory eyes focused on the uppermost window of the high-rise building he's climbing. The wind picks up suddenly, dousing the walls with a fresh spray of rainwater but the snake-man's hold is secure, scaled pads gripping worn brickwork and motor with the raw efficiency of a killing machine. Copperhead is on the hunt and nothing will stop him from achieving his grisly task. Still, it's hard to concentrate when all he can feel is the white-hot pulse of hunger roaring through his veins. It's not the kind that can be satiated with food either, no matter how delicious the spread is. He could eat and eat until he was full to bursting and still feel sick to his stomach with this craving, this insatiable urge to kill. He's been through this before, more times than he cares to remember and Copperhead knows the only way to end this desire is to indulge it. His pulse quickens again, excitement flooding his body as he grows close to his destination. The window is open, perhaps belonging to that of a small bathroom but Copperhead knows he can fit through the tiny opening. Gratitude quells his bloodlust momentarily, both towards his target for making tonight's work easier and the storm for concealing his arrival. Quick as a whip, Copperhead angles his body, ribs flattening as he pushes his head through the opening. A small child would struggle to get out of a window this narrow but he can manage it, scaled body seamlessly weaving through. Already he is dry; the rain has sluiced right off his scales, leaving no spills as his shoulders slip through the gap with the rest of his body following after. He's inside now, tongue flickering as he tastes the air. Copperhead can see his surroundings perfectly despite the lack of light, the only source being the occasional flash of lightning from outside and a charger on the wall powering up the occupant's electric toothbrush. Recently it was used, the stench of mint and cologne hanging in the air. He almost smiles; his target must be enjoying a very lovely evening out to clean themselves so thoroughly, work clothes still littering the floor in their haste to leave. So untidy. Ignoring the abandoned clothes, Copperhead creeps through the rooms. There are no pets, no cats to worry about or any other creature. It's just him and the clock on the wall. Ten to midnight. Tongue flickers again as he surveys the area; the way a person lived told a lot about them and what he could see told him this person was very messy, leaving a half-finished container of chinese takeaway on the kitchen counter for the roaches to nibble - sweet and sour pork with special fried rice and a side of chow mein. Copperhead yawned, not from tiredness at this late hour but to ready his fangs for when his gracious host would return. Part of him regretted that he had to do this, to utterly spoil what must had been a nice day for Mr. Bell but his employer had been adamant that the man had done him great wrong and wanted him out of the picture, permanently. Unblinking eyes dart back to the clock. Eight to midnight. Copperhead hummed, moving on from the kitchen in search of a more appropriate hiding place just in case Mr. Bell returned with a friend should his date prove fruitful. Claws suddenly arch, almost tearing a hole in the sofa as the snake-man searches for a suitable spot in which to wait. That famililar pulse surges through his veins again, scales burning white-hot once more as he imagines how good it will feel to rend flesh as soon as his target is within arm's reach, to plunge his fangs into Mr. Bell's neck and hear him scream as deadly venom flooded his bloodstream... Copperhead swallows, feeling as though he were starving despite having eaten not so very long ago. He needed to kill again, and very soon.

[winters-mistress]

Protector

"Ciri, down!" Geralt yells as the Charnobog flies over him and swoops towards her.

The girl tenses and flattens herself against Roach's mane, starting to thrash her legs in the stirrups to free them.

The chernobog roars, beginning to swipe at Princess and horse alike, and the sound deafens Geralt attempting to run out of the thigh high water he had immersed himself in.

"Run! Run!" Geralt yells, but he's drowned out.

Ciri's eyes widen as the rock monster roars and opens its wings, beating hard twice. She can feel the wind pushing her braid back, that and the next cast of witcher sign Ciri was too shocked to recognise, and the beast roars again, before it flattens itself and swoops down, claws out.

Roach whinnies loudly, raring back on her hind legs as if to defend the girl. Geralt yells as he finally gets free of the water, and Ciri winces as she gears the tearing of flesh.

She gasps as she suddenly slips from the brave mare's back all together as Roach rears once more. She falls with a shriek of her own, for her right leg had gotten caught in the stirrup, and she falls with a sickening 'snap!' of human bone.

Ciri shrieks, hunching foreward to grasp at her injured leg that is definitely not bending the right way. She can hear Roach neighing, the beast shrieking, Geralt yelling, and heavy wind that drowns it all into a similar sound, blurring into one.

"Ciri! Run!" Geralt yells, beginning to advance upon them all, but the silly witcher hasn't realised that she's hurt, it seems.

Her ability to run is compromised, so what other ability does she have.

She draws in a breath, hopes to the gods she doesn't sweep her protector and his steed to hell, and screams.

Ciri's not sure what happens when she screams. The closest she's gotten is seeing the oviserated crop field just before Geralt, all she knows is she's fucking scared, and now she's in pain, and her body will do the rest.

And seemingly, it does.

The monster freezes in place, mid air, all grey rock and gleaming red eyes, staring right at her. She makes eye contact with the beast, just in time for Geralt to finally get over to her, dropping to his knees as he inspects her.

"Don't bother about me!" Ciri pushes him away by the breastplate, only managing to lean him back a little. "G-get the fucking thing!"

Geralt snaps from concerned protector into bloodlusty witcher. He grabs the sword that has fallen to the ground and charges the beast. Much to Ciri's shock, it stays in place, as if frozen in time, like a painting in real time, doesn't even move as Geralt makes it into two places. And finishes it off with igni.

Adrenaline weighing, Ciri grunts and gasps as she takes sight of the state of her leg. It's swollen in her leather leggings, easily three times the size of the left. Her knee is swollen, she cannot bend it, not to mention the left her shin is bent in a way it definitely isn't supposed to.

Geralt returns to her the moment her tears start falling, and she sobs from the pain, falling back against rhe muddy, leaf and twig laden ground. Geralt's hands fall onto her side, turning her around so he can inspect the damage.

"Fuck." He hisses. "Fuck!" He yells.

"Roach-Roch-" she leans to see the horse.

"Don't worry about her, superficial cuts." Indeed, the horse still stands, three long gashes along her side, and she walks gingerly over to master and his girl. But she's okay, she's alive.

Ciri sobs as he runs his hands down her injured leg. He is gentle, she knows, but it feels like her leg has been set alight.

"Dislocated kneecap, completely snapped the top of your shin-" he mutters something she doesn't understand.

"I'm going to set the knee, for one. There's not much I can do apart from bound your leg. I know a place, Roach can take us there once I sew her up. Temple of Melitele, Nenneke can help." He rambles, and at any other point in time it would have amused her. Geralt, the stoic, silent witcherman, now speaks and shakes and looks so earnestly.

She takes a deep breath, nodding. She feels bad for the poor birds that scatter at her scream once Geralt shoves her knee into place. He looks like he feels bad, winces as she sobs through her bandaging, before he brews a tea that should put her to sleep with its painkilling qualities, as he tends to roach.

"I'm sorry, Cirilla." He whispers as she fades in and out of consciousness, deliciously pain free and woozy. "I've failed at protecting you."

"Y'killed the beast." she mumbles. "Can't ask more'n that, hurt us worse if y'didnt."

"I'll get you to Nenneke, she'll help us." He vows as her eyes slide closed. "I'll keep you safe."

"I know."

And she drifts off to sleep, holding tight the witcher's hand.

[buglyknight]

1092) another cigarette, please

hang out with the rest of our friends

yeah,

the ferris wheel is still there.

we find ways to spend our time

eating too much

my stomach is wrathfully full

i tell Grant im tired of eating

we go to the Garden of the Gods

but You're not here.

You're not here.

we go to an artsy place

walk around for a few hours

we didn't finish the mystery game

everyone was hungry

except me

but why is that stranger wearing Your face?

neck starts its tics

brain itches

Grant is feeling similarly

ive got bad brain. he says

me too.

why was that stranger wearing Your face?

when we get back to the hotel

he wants to go outside

i know why.

can i join you?

sure.

so we

smoke cigarettes

that's what You told me to do, right?

that one time?

would You hate me for thinking of that?

i forgot your wording, but i remembered just now while typing

i told Grant about it

let's die a little faster.

we talk about You

and You

and You

and the ferris wheel

and how i was

sexually abused by my brother

ive never said that out loud before

its mostly glossed over

not for lack of caring

i havent posted that poem yet

and he talks about

his ex (pseudo ex?)

his You, in a way.

that lives up here

do you think it ever stops?

no. he replies

the look in his eyes

he knows.

yeah, i know.

-

cigarettes, a pause

more cigarettes

i suck them down like candy

throat burns

lungs burn

more cigarettes, please

will i finally get cancer

like i wished for at 18?

i flatten the earth as i smoke

is it to distract myself from You,

as we talk about You?

we're both shivering but we

keep standing in the snow

until it hurts

feet are numb

more cigarettes, please

im shivering madly

another cigarette, please

i still haven't seen Her face

i guess i could show you

(how do you forget that)

only if it won't make it hurt.

nah, i check everyday, just to see if it says 'Married'

yeah, She's pretty.

look at Her! She's everything. i'd kill for Her, i'd do anything

look at Her! look at Her! wow.

-

something about freezing makes you think less

your mind can't focus on anything else

his new boyfriend is a serious downgrade

he's got a new boyfriend? that's good, i hope he's happy

he's so fucked up for what he did to you.

i just hope he's happy.

(never find peace. never? why did you say that to me?)

we went on a double date, at the fair

ah, the F word

cmon man...

now we're here and there's the wheel right there, staring at me.

i can't get away from it.

-

you gonna bang Kat?

no. im not interested in women anymore.

i thought you werent interested in men, anymore?

i dont think im interested in anybody

you're both gonna be super drunk, did you take that into account?

yeah. i dont think itll change much.

-

it feels good to freeze and the only thing

you can warm your hands with, is a cigarette

it feels like being homeless, that feels right

i give it a try and yeah,

he's right.

i leave half of the conversation in my head

ive never been one for speaking my mind

half of the meanings, the clarifications, the answers, the questions

left behind

i tell him. (You'd hate me for it)

things ive never mentioned to anyone

he tells me

things he's never mentioned to anyone

that damn wheel is still there

i want to get a ferris wheel tattoo

you-. Yeah, i don't blame you.

and why were You on that strangers face?

why was that stranger wearing Your face?

why did i keep seeing Her around this place?

we go inside and i watched

Princess Mononoke

with Grant

originally i canceled my plans with him

to watch it with You.

but where were You?

where were You?

where were

You?

where were

You?

SHE'S NOT GOING TO CALL

SHE'S STILL NOT GOING TO CALL

SHE WANTS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE ROACH

KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT AND

STAY. OUT. OF. THE. WAY.

i want to bury my hands in the snow till they cant move

what does that feel like?

is that a sensation worth experiencing?

can i put cigarettes out on my own skin?

another cigarette, please

ash it down till it burns my mouth

i'm getting ready to scream.

i smell like ten cigarettes.

[thunders-warcats-stuff]

Wolf snaps at StarClan cats part 1 (bok: self insert au

Roach "Ragged" star, Brambleberry, Hailstar, Echomist, Shellheart

“My name is Rusty." Wolf began. "I’ve been having dreams of this place for a while now. I’ll sleep well at night if I can prevent even one scrap of the suffering that ensues in the coming months.”

“Among these Clans, River, Shadow, Thunder, and Wind?” Brambleberry asked cautiously.

“Yes.”

“Prove it.” Hailstar growled. “What’s something no one else could prove they know?”

“I have quite a bit of that stored in my head, but if I answer your question, I’d like an answer to one of mine in return.”

“That’s fine by me. Go on, kit.”

“You once dunked a Wind cat’s head underwater because he tried to steal two kits from your colony.”

Hailstar stared at Wolf, open-mouthed.

“That’s certainly not something any of these cats would tell anyone.” He mumbled. “Alright, what’s your question?”

“Why did you name a literal child after his devastating injury?”

“His mother requested it. Names are sacred in RiverClan. Cats spend moons together picking out names for their kits. Some start doing so even as apprentices. Only a major change, like that injury, could change a name.”

“Okay.” Wolf hissed, doing their best to flatten their fur. “That is such bullshit, I don’t even know what to do with it. Sure, names are sacred. I can get behind that. But he was a baby! You named a baby after his fucking mauled face! And no one spoke out except for the baby’s other parent?!”

“No one was allowed to speak out.” Brambleberry informed Wolf. “What did you expect Hailstar to do?”

“Rejecting her request would have been nice. Telling her it’s a terrible idea. Asking why? All the shit the father did.”

“He was the only one allowed to! Would you expect me to go against a tradition that’s been around nearly as long as the Clans have?”

“I would expect your morals to be more informed and easier to stick to.” Wolf said icily. “But what am I asking you for? You all lay down and show your bellies the second your group’s Head tells you to.”

“You speak too freely, kit!” Hailstar growled.

“How long has Brokenstar been in power?”

“At least three moons.” Roachstar offered, confused.

“Cool. What have Shadow cats been doing for those past three moons?” Wolf chirped eyes gleaming dangerously.

“I see your point.” The dark brown tabby exhaled roughly. “What would you have me do?”

“Nothing now. I’ll handle it."

[snake-anvd]

THEYRE CALLING ME GAY FOR YOU

*slowly moving out from under the anvil, flattened like paper*

Important note, almost every dean is like a roach...or a flea, cause...fleas are so flat you can't kill them by squishing them

-🖤🗑️

(Is there any blood?? I can't tell- oh lord.. oh, wait, he can heal himself. He's fine. Wait, they're what?? Is he???) ..so you can get squished as much as you want, and it won't kill you?

[octopiys]

Alejandro and Rodolfo being rescue/rehabilitators, and they own a rescue center in Mexico. Governments/forces are trying to buy them out for experimentation, but they're standing firm on their beliefs. These creatures exist because they exist just like anyone else, and sometimes they need a bit of help, they're not something to be oggled at. Graves being there on a foreign research trip and taking too many notes, too many videos. Eventually, one of the hybrids that they were rehabilitating, they called him Roach, who was injured after being too close to a detonated depth charge, (I'm thinking maybe he's a minke whale hybrid? I like them they're funky) and it's time they release him back into the proper waters. Sure, it's a process, but it's necessary.

They meet up with a few friends they know, a couple researchers doing a few studies and observations of marine life in the antarctic, and decide to inform them about the minke whale rescue. Now, Price, Laswell, and Nikolai, the head researchers, have a perfect idea on how to get this Minke whale hybrid readjusted to underwater life after a few years of human contact. They've been monitoring two other hybrids, nicknamed Ghost and Soap, an orca hybrid and a leopard seal hybrid, an unlikely pair, and decide that the minke whale would fit in. At first, Rodolfo, the veterinarian, was concerned about the predatory habits of an orca against a minke, but Laswell showed proof of an almost mutualistic bond between the seal and orca, and reluctantly, Rodolfo gave in.

There's a furred seal hybrid outside the door when they make up their mind. He's a nice looking creature with soft fur and rich skin, and stunning brown eyes. He made a few barking sounds at them, nudging the two as his ears flattened against his head. Alejandro crouched down to attempt to make conversation, and Price informed them both that this hybrid was nicknamed Gaz, who had developed an attachment to the base after release, and didn't seem to leave them alone. But nobody really was complaining, he was a kind hybrid who didn't understand why the researchers did not want dead squid or octopus every morning.

There was a horn off in the distance and the group perked up a little bit, but Gaz's ears still lay flattened against his head. After a moment, he hurries off and disappears into icy water. In the distance, they see a transport boat. Apparently, it contained the rest of their supplies for the season, along with a few other researchers from around the world. Apparently, this was a popular destination.

On the boat were three new people. One named Alex Keller, an American marine biologist, who was working on his marine rehabilitation book. The second named Farah Karim, a strong-headed environmentalist who was determined to show the world that hybrids were not something to be afraid of. The third, named Philip Graves, a researcher from a private company. They must've been rich, and highly suspicious, because with one Google of the company name, nothing was found. Rodolfo had a sinking feeling it was a government agent, but Alejandro assured that it was a researcher that they had known. After all, it's the same kid who visited their rehabilitation center a few years ago, before the American media picked up a false ideology about hybrids, then creating the whole stigma.... the kid that took so many notes. He was only interested in the benefit of the hybrids. He did say he was a researcher, right?

orca!ghost + leopard seal!soap

[bedbuginspectors]

When Bed Bugs Strike: How to Recognize and Deal with an Infestation

Pests can be a considerable nuisance, even in the most hygienic homes. No matter what precautions we take, an unwelcome guest can quickly slip by, causing no end of trouble. Some pests are much more severe than others. For instance, roaches are known to carry (and spread) disease, while mice can also do the same along with chewing through items around your house. However, one pest that's among the worst to invade your property is bed bugs.

These pests are so notorious they even have a rhyme explicitly dedicated to them: don't let the bed bug bite! And bite they will if you do not take prompt action to stop their infestation. In today's article, we will discuss the top tell-tail signs that suggest your property may have bed bugs! If you notice one or a combination of these signs, it's best to contact a professional bed bug removal expert immediately!

Spotting Live Bugs

If you don't know what bed bugs look like, they are tiny reddish-brown pests with flattened bodies. Adult bugs are around 5 mm in length, but they can get longer after feeding. Their eggs are approximately 1 mm, making them almost impossible to spot with the naked eye.

Bed bugs tend to hide in crannies and nooks and can often be confused with other tiny crawling pests like carpet beetles. While it is not usual to see bed bugs in the morning since they love to stay hidden, you can still catch them after dark or once their nests are disturbed.

Stains

Bed bugs feed on blood. They are the best at hiding in all kinds of crevices near where you sleep, be it metal, wood, or soft furnishings. It means they are not just confined to your bed. They could be hiding a few feet away, taking up position next to your couch, especially if you sleep there often.

Ultimately, they are waiting for you to sleep, after which they will come out of hiding and bite you. They leave behind telltale blood stains on your mattress and sheets, which can be brown or dark red. If you notice any blood speckles over your sheets or even your pillow, it's best to hire a professional bed bug inspection right away!

Unexplained Red-Itchy Spots

As we stated earlier, bed bugs feed on human blood, so the first place you need to check for an infestation is your skin. Look at your skin to check for any unexplained itchy-red spots. It can get tricky sometimes to distinguish a bed bug bite from a mosquito bite. To differentiate, check if there is a pattern of these spots in your exposed skin area, especially your shoulders and arms. Also keep in mind that bed bug bits generally occur in a single line.

So, if you have spotted any signs of bed bugs on your property, ensure you deal with the issue as soon as possible. Bed bugs can quickly multiply and spread across your property, impacting multiple rooms as well as your neighboring homes. By contacting a professional exterminator, you can quickly address this issue! Professionals will have all the tools and chemicals needed to investigate and mitigate bed bugs from your property!

[crevicedwelling]

MANTISES ARE RELATED TO ROACHES??

yes! while they do have differing ecologies—mantises generally are elongate, diurnal predators and cockroaches generally are flattened, nocturnal detritivores—it’s not so surprising if you take a closer look:

they are one another’s closest relatives, being grouped together in the superorder Dictyoptera, which is revealed by their many shared anatomical features.

if you compare the wing structure on these two, you’ll find the veins are very similar. to get a mantis out of a roach, morphologically speaking, all you’ve got to do is elongate the pronotum (roach head shield, mantis ‘torso’), elongate the legs, and enlarge the eyes.

mantises and roaches also both produce “oothecae,” tough eggcases in which eggs are protected from the environment. mantis ooths are often made of sturdy, hard foam, while roach ooths are leathery and purse-like.

the raptorial legs of mantises aren’t too greatly modified from a roach forelimb, either. roaches already have spiny legs for digging and defense; with additional spines organized in rows, there’s a powerful grasping foreleg.

additionally, some of the most basal (least changed from the original ancestor) mantises retain a number of very roach-like features, such as flat bodies, a short pronotum, and long cerci (“butt antennae”). Chaeteessa doesn’t even have the long spike at the end of the tibia segment! although I’m not entirely sure if all of these roachy structures are necessary primitive and not secondarily derived, these two do give a good look at how mantises might’ve looked before they evolved the characteristic spindly green forms you recognize today.