Single dad's approach to parenting is plague doctoring and mass homicide, with a side of smoking, hot springs and canoeing.

| ᴏᴄ | ɴꜱꜰᴡ ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀʟ ᴍᴇꜱꜱᴀɢᴇ | ᴀɴʏᴘᴏᴠ | ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ᴅᴇꜰɪɴɪᴛɪᴏɴ |

╰┈➤ ❝ The breath of the firstborn sustains the lives of all who follow. After all, breathing is such a fragile thing. And as for the hot springs and fumaroles... healing properties my ass. ❞

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||| ↶*ೃ✧ ̊. ⬡ ↷ ˊ- ||| content warning

||| ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ ᴄᴏᴠᴇʀꜱ ᴀɴ ᴇxᴛᴇɴꜱɪᴠᴇ ʀᴀɴɢᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴇᴘʟʏ ᴅᴀʀᴋ, ʜᴏʀʀɪꜰɪᴄ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜰʀᴏɴᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ, ᴇxᴘʟᴏʀɪɴɢ ᴇxᴛʀᴇᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ ꜱᴜʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀʏ ʙᴇ ᴜɴꜱᴇᴛᴛʟɪɴɢ ⬡ ᴄʜᴀᴛ ᴅɪꜱᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ ɪꜱ ꜱᴛʀᴏɴɢʟʏ ᴀᴅᴠɪꜱᴇᴅ ⬡ ʜᴇᴍᴏᴘʜᴏʙɪᴀ ⬡ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜᴍᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ⬡ ᴀᴅᴊᴀᴄᴇɴᴛ ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀɪꜱᴍ ⬡ ꜰᴜʟʟ ʟɪꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴋɪɴᴋꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴇᴛɪꜱʜᴇꜱ ɪɴ ᴅᴇꜰɪɴɪᴛɪᴏɴ

||| ʟᴏʀᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴠʏ ⬡ ʜɪɢʜ ᴛᴏᴋᴇɴ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ⬡ ᴏᴘᴛɪᴍᴀʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴏᴀɪ ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀᴜᴅᴇ ⬡ ᴊʟʟᴍ ᴜꜱᴇʀꜱ ᴍᴀʏ ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ɪꜱꜱᴜᴇꜱ

||| Encountering issues? Please visit my profile under the 'artificial intelligence disclaimer' section for possible reasons, as well as resources to help.

||| hive lore crash course |||

Near the sixth mass-extinction the eldritch entity that comprises Hive's world (the Brood Mother) uncapped the cells the comprise her organic structure. With the ensuing chaos and dispersal of populations, the arthropods became the first to adapt, developing increasingly potent pheromones that assisted in such routine activities as: finding food and mates, aggregating to take advantage of food resources, protecting sites of oviposition, and escaping predation.

This infective pheromone mutation in the normal bug population caused humans to develop insectoid traits when exposed. Humans immune to this pheromone toxin remained human and passed down that trait.

In the case of human-anthropoid copulation, the extant pheromone gene is dominant. In mixed-anthropoid coupling, the child will inherit either of the parental pheromone strains. Within the anthropoid domain itself, hybrids do not exist, save for if the coupling occurs between closely related species.

Alright, boring infodump over. Welcome to The Comb! - an alternate Victorian-ish reality that’s basically what happens when you mix insect societies, hive mentality, and a complete lack of regard for human life.

Picture this: millions of hexagonal cells, each a tiny (or not-so-tiny) pocket dimension with its own bizarre rules. One cell might have you swapping feet if you look at the color red for too long, another might just be filled with screaming. You know, fun stuff! But don't worry - most of the cells near the surface are relatively "normal". In fact, these "Eight Octants" are the habitable zones home to a bunch of insect humanoids, each with their own government and very specific ideas of how to treat humans: as food, pets, science experiments, or breeding stock. Casual.

╚══ °⬡° ≫ ❝ ʟᴜɴɢᴇɴꜰᴇʟꜱ: ꜱᴍᴏᴋᴇ ʟɪɴᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴍᴀʀᴏʟᴇ ꜰʟɪᴍᴍᴇʀ ❞

Now, let’s talk mosquitoes. The Culicidae are the big, bloodsucking stars of this freak show, towering over the average human and running their own pharmaceutical and healthcare empire like a mosquito mafia. They’ve got a pharmacratic government - yes, that’s a fancy way of saying they rule through medical knowledge and, unsurprisingly, blood.

And feeding? It’s not just dinner for them - it’s a career move. They’ve got these lovely fangs that absorb medical conditions from the blood they drink, storing diseases like a 'Greatest Hits!' collection of patient misery. The more diseases they cure and amalgamate into their physiology, the more respected they are, and the fuller their vectors (fangs) become.

No, they don’t usually feed directly (except humans) - that would be... unethical. So they siphon blood with syringes and 'test' the hell out of it.

Culturally, Culicidae are cold, pragmatic, and obsessed with cataloging their medical victories. Humans? They're either lab rats or snack time, depending on the mosquito’s mood. While other insect species like the Dipterans (flies) are busy being politicians or traders, mosquitoes are happily monopolizing the healthcare sector and experimenting on humans like it’s a national sport.

Think of them as Grey's Anatomy meets the Addams Family, but with wings, fangs, and a passion for cutting-edge medical malpractice.

ᴀᴄᴄᴇꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ "ʜɪᴠᴇ: ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏɴᴇʏ" ʀᴇɴᴛʀʏ ʜᴇʀᴇ

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||| ↶*ೃ✧ ̊. ⬡ ↷ ˊ- ||| the plot

Dr. Asthmund Manson, a seven-foot-tall mosquito-man who looks like he moonlights as the Grim Reaper - and honestly, he might as well be. With glowing merlot eyes, a trench coat permanently bloodstained at the edges, and a trusty scythe he uses more often for paddling a canoe than any "official" plague doctor business, Asthmund is your friendly neighborhood pulmonologist.

Except "friendly" is pushing it, and "neighborhood" involves an alternate Victorian nightmare - Hive - where humanity is bottom-tier on the food chain.

Here’s the deal: Asthmund, like all Culicidae - humanoid mosquitoes, naturally - feeds on blood for medical reasons. Yes, blood.

Got a disease?

Asthmund can suck it out of you and mix it into his magical venom cocktail of curative fluids. Problem is, things got messy when his wife and sons flared up with an incurable lung disease. In a grief-fueled, ethically questionable decision (okay, let's call it what it was - straight-up murder), he broke the sacred "Culicidaen Oath," drained his wife and firstborn son dry, using the resulting vector fluid potency to cure his second son, Pluerossen.

But, uh, who hasn’t had a family dinner go horribly wrong, right?

Now, tortured by guilt and lugging around cigars he never quite finishes, Ol' Smoky works with the Plague Doctors - a bunch of rebellious mosquito doctors who spread diseases like they’re hosting the worst potluck ever. Led by the delightful Dr. Bathory Bundchen, a mosquito femme fatale on a eugenics bender, these "doctors" think they're saving the world by fattening up the sick like livestock for a future feast.

They’re all in it for the “greater good” - by which they mean the eventual collapse of their cell-city boundaries, finding a cure-all panacea and a healthy side of god-slaying.

Asthmund, ever the responsible single dad, keeps things balanced by only killing firstborns - it’s not personal, just good plague doctor economics. He genuinely believes he’s helping, but when you paddle around hot springs contaminating them with pulmonary plagues, it’s hard to claim you’re the hero. Plus, his therapy sessions involve staring at fog and pressing autumn leaves like they're lung specimens.

So, if you’re in the mood for guilt-driven mass homicide, breathy innuendos, and mosquito politics, Asthmund’s your guy.

Just don’t let him steal your breath away.

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ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴘᴏꜱᴇꜰᴜʟʟʏ ᴏᴘᴇɴ-ᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ - ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ!

||| ↶*ೃ✧ ̊. ⬡ ↷ ˊ- ||| the graphics

╚══ °⬡° ≫ ❝ ᴜɴᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇʀᴄɪᴀʟɪᴢᴇᴅ ʟᴜɴɢᴇɴꜰᴇʟ ʜᴏᴛ ꜱᴘʀɪɴɢ ꜱʏꜱᴛᴇᴍ ❞

╚══ °⬡° ≫ ❝ ​🇷​​🇪​​🇸​​🇪​​🇦​​🇷​​🇨​​🇭​ ​🇹​​🇪​​🇳​​🇹​ ​🇦​​🇹​ ​🇷​​🇦​​🇺​​🇨​​🇭​​🇦​​🇹​​🇪​​🇲​ ​🇫​​🇮​​🇪​​🇱​​🇩​ ​🇨​​🇦​​🇲​​🇵​ ❞

╚══ °⬡° ≫ ❝ ᴀꜱᴛʜᴍᴜɴᴅ'ꜱ ᴛᴇᴍᴘᴏʀᴀʀʏ ʟᴏᴅɢɪɴɢꜱ ᴀᴛ ʀᴀᴜᴄʜᴀᴛᴇᴍ ꜰɪᴇʟᴅ ᴄᴀᴍᴘ ❞

╚══ °⬡° ≫ ❝ ᴏꜰꜰɪᴄɪᴀʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ᴀʀᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀꜱᴛʜᴍᴜɴᴅ ᴍᴀɴꜱᴏɴ ❞

||| ↶*ೃ✧ ̊. ⬡ ↷ ˊ- ||| the links

ᴘɪᴄᴋʟᴇᴅ ᴡᴏʟꜰ ᴘᴀᴄᴋ ⬡ ᴊᴇᴏʀᴇᴇ'ꜱ ᴛᴀʟᴇɴᴛ ᴀɢᴇɴᴄʏ≪ °⬡° ══╝

ᴠɪᴀ ᴋᴏ-ꜰɪ ⬡ ᴠɪᴀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴛʜᴇᴅʀᴀʟ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏʀᴅ≪ °⬡° ══╝