there is a wasps' nest in my attic. it sings a beautiful song
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
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Hello, worm woman!!!!
I always get super nervous when asking stuff so bear with me here.
Can you describe what the song sounds like?
a hhu mmi nng, bb uzzi nng mme llo dyy . iit rres sonn att ess thh rro uugh thhe ssk kull lli kke a th hou ssa nnd wwa nnt inn g thhi in ggs a nnd mm el dds li kke ttaf ffy i nnto thh e hhea rrt tbe aat, tt he bb rrea tth ingg , th he mm in dd. it t hhru mms th rrou ggh tt he bb onn es ll ik ee a ddru mmbe at. iit iss thhe sson gg of li ffe ppe rpe ttua tingg it ssell ff . dd eathh mm ea nns nno tth inng tto tt ho sse wh ho arre ww illi nng tto lli sst ten .
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would you still love me if i wasn't a worm? 🥺
nno
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I do not know why the hive chose me, but it did. And I think that it always had. The song is loud and beautiful and I am so very afraid. There is a wasps’ nest in my attic. Perhaps it can soothe my itching soul.
pp lla ggi a rri ss mmm
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Thoughts on nikola?
(Perhaps, gay thoughts?)
iit ii sss pp rii dde mmo nn tth , aaf tter r aa ll
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bingle bongle dingle dangle yickity doo yickity dah lippy tappy too tah
i sse ee yyo uu cca nn hhe aarr itt ttoo oo
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WORM MOMMAS BACK!!! HI WORM MOMMA :D
hhe llo mmy cchi ll d .. hho ww a rr e tt he cc riim me ss ?
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i hha tt e bbi rr dd s .. tth ey kke eep ee a tti ng mmy cch i ll drr e nn
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kk i ill yy oo uur ccr oow ss tth e nn . tt hhe y y wii ll nne vv er llo vve yy ou
Give me wooorrmmsss
-"🪱anon"
..I do not have worms…
@ur-local-flesh-hive
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Jane Prentiss? The worm lady? 😦
—The Magnus worker. 👁 @eryntheartifact
cch ee cck yy ouu rr ww a llss
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Jane I kinda have your worms as a pet
Da fu- they're multiplying too fast! I'm gonna need a box Full of jar...
ff rre ee tthe mm .. pp utt tth e mm innn yy ou rr ww alls
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hello the worm woman to ever worm woman
i dont like you because you hurt martin but whatever
hi jane
- bee, andrew, rowan / @a-thousand-little-things
i ddi dd nno tth i nng tto mma rr tti nn . i tt' ss hh i ss ow nn ff auu llt i ff hhe cc oul dd n ott hhe a rr
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I’m bored. Does anyone want to go into my mirror maze that DEFITNETLY not an endless maze where I trap people and feed on their fear.

nn nno tt hha nn kk yy ou
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ii a mm aa llw wa yy s hha ppy tt o shha r re thh e ggi ff t <3
Give me wooorrmmsss
-"🪱anon"
..I do not have worms…
@ur-local-flesh-hive
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cco ww a rr dd . i ff yy ou cca nn t hha nnd le mme a tt mmy 'li vving in tth e aa rch ive ww a lls ' yy ou do nn tt des se rrv e mme at mmy 'bu lly i nng el li ass o vv e rr ttu mbb lr rr ddo t cco mm'
r- o-t-t -o- g-o 🪱🪱🪱🪱
you c an tak e my wo rm s 🪱🪱 to g o
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tw // religious themes, surgery, descriptions of gore, auto-cannibalism
How long did it take to build up the nerve?
Administering the anesthetic was the easy part, tying up a tourniquet as the limb numbs. Too much time spent staring down at it, studying for the best cut.
By all means, it should not have been able to carry him as long as it had, with as deep into the muscle as the rot had gotten. Blackened and purple veins stretch the length of the leg from the calf. The muscle itself has been eaten away at, any attempt at movement a pain. Sure, there were bad days with it before, but this is unlike anything else, though it is all the same - a punishment, a reminder he has not been enough for his Beloved.
Penance will cleanse this. Some prayers and a communion. A feeding has always gotten him back in its good graces after all.
Does he go for the most rotten of it, take as much as he can handle, and risk its presence being lessened in the place it has always been nestled? Or should he leave the majority of it -
The answer is already clear. There's no question about it.
As he drags the scalpel across his skin, he wishes it were someone else operating. Some company. Someone who would cut it out, scoop the flesh into his mouth, tenderly wrap it all up. Someone he could adore the stains of red on their skin, on their face as they licked their fingers clean.
Not anyone, no. Her. She whose bones sit beside him. Watching, judging.
Heavens, now is not the time.
He focuses on the oozing of blood, righting his mind with as precise of cuts as he can manage. Is it fear or delight that makes his hand shake as it does? A grin or grimace that spreads across his face as the sickly-sweet scent of rot hits his nose?
Clive pulls the flesh free, and does not hesitate to put it in his mouth. It tastes wretched, but he knows it will be well worth the trial. His body is wracked with a gag, as if it does not know what divinity lays on its tongue. There will be some sweetness, he is certain.
So, he chews and chews and chews the mush meat. The little ones would consider this as much of a feast. So too should he. They have shared many a corpse in the past, what difference is this? Leg has never been a bad cut before.
The body fights the swallow, but the mind is positively abuzz with euphoria and blood loss. He will be smiled upon. He will be feasted upon, and it is all he can do to pray for it.
He packs the wound, wraps it.
If this time is not enough, he knows he can try again.
and again.
and again.
Until he is enough.
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ooc: I SWEAR I'LL CLEAN OUT MY INBOX SOON.... I HAVE BEEN SO BUSY AND UNMOTIVATED
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We will kill any worms you give her.
Do not give the worms
2872 Sims St. South London WC1
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