#and body horror brain rot

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Remember: The burning sensation is part of the process.

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

i Will explode if i do not show this so please take incoherent scribbles of an equally as incoherent au idea that will take me several weeks to make an actual post of . local shrimp gets thrown in an awful hospital and gets inconvenienced by several monsters while witnessing horrors beyond comprehension i'll explain everything later

ok back to your regularly scheduled programming

[morverenmaybewrites]

Just wanted to share a small project I've been working on.

A dark (gothic?) fantasy version of Gotham City (and of course, Jason Todd) from the Arkham series, where Jason really did die after being shot by the Joker, and resurrected almost perfectly by the Lazarus Pit. Keyword: Almost Also, did I mention that it also involves Hanahaki disease?

[mercless]

i would like to know more about hn talon's feathery ailment ... is it their demonic nature clashing with the angelic blood that is resulting in their worsening condition ? is there a reason why it is specifically feathers / bird-likeness as opposed to anything else ( i.e. would other demons undergo similar transformations if they also got contaminated with angel blood ) ? can you share more about how you envision the progression and prognosis ? will it kill them or will there be some sort of final stage of their transformation ( whether that's a bad thing because it only gets worse and worse , or a good thing because maybe now that it is complete , they won't be in as much pain and discomfort 🥺 ) ? is it at all affected by whatever they're doing / thinking / feeling / experiencing ( tamagotchi talon ... ) ? what do they do to manage their condition ? does it make them self-conscious or feel badly about their physical appearance ?

"-But it looks like the angels ain't done with you."

I don't recommend that anyone ingests angel blood (good thing that's a difficult thing to do these days) but I wouldn't want to definitively say how it works for anyone else either. and I think it makes sense if talon isn't too sure either, with not meeting anyone else in a similar predicament as they (yet... will get to this later) but say if it were another angel Talon had attacked and drank the blood of, I believe they would still be having similar symptoms, as angels are quite feathery beings (varus with his arm of feathers, irelia with her wings and other choicely placed feathers.) But the particular angel they stole from has had a specific impact on just how the blood has changed them.

The reason for their worsening condition is because the blood has a powerful influence, like an undiluted acid. And it is so dramatic of an change because this influence is the polar opposite to their demonic existence. The more that Talon fights against the changes, the less symbiotic the blood and their demonic nature melds, the more violent and painful the experience is for them. And without any interference either with understanding or other experiences, I see it as a bitter, drawn-out struggle. Just wallowing in fatalism until Talon is nothing more than an unrecognisable pile of bile, blood, and feathers that tore itself apart...

Fortunately for them, the more Talon interacts with their rotting world and the people (and creatures) also struggling in it, the more they will come to terms with their own potential, and reflect on how they can be something more than what they once were. Learning that they don't have to let their worst action define their existence. More than just accepting what they did, and putting in the effort to understand emotions and how to be an active part of life, will mean they are not stubbornly fighting against their affliction. This will increase the speed of it's progression, but also be far less painful of an experience since they won't be actively fighting against it. When Talon is unable to call upon any of their demonic abilities anymore, the physical changes of the affliction will be complete, but they will continue to learn and better themself in an attempt to make up for all the wrong and pain they have caused in their existence. I can picture this happening in two or three decades time, in which there is no longer any hellfire, brimstone or summoned weapons. Talon is no longer a demon, but maybe by then they'll also know if the powers that be would accept a malformed, inexperienced, makeshift samaritan as a stand-in. But that's a hopeful thought, thinking they'll live that long.

Going back to the symptoms of the affliction. Previously, Talon's form was one of shadow and brimstone, and they were able to phase in and out of being corporeal at will. Over time, this ability has been weakened - only able to vanish as a shadow for a moment at a time. Brimstone skin was made brittle until it fell away to soft flesh, hollow bone, and hair. Feathers have begun sprouting through this softer skin too, mostly across their left shoulder, arm and chest, but are beginning to sprout along their throat too. Talon used to pull them out by hand, but has forfeited the fight. Back to the left arm, a sort of carapace has begun to form over their left hand, along the thumb's metacarpal and back of the hand in layers of grey ash and weathered gold. This and the growth of the feathers is very similar to Varus' - the angel in which Talon killed and drunk the blood of - own feathers and angelic arm. But without any of the matching powers, it is a far less grand sight.

Although still considerably hot to the touch, Talon's core temperature has drastically lowered compared to the past. Whatever organs of malice and bile a demon has have made way for a growth in their chest, helping pump the foul angelic blood and pesky emotions around their body routinely, and push out more of their demonic essence every day, little by little. With this, it has already made their demonic powers incredibly weakened. Previously Talon also used to be able to disintegrate bodies with a slice of their hellish blades, but they just do not run hot enough anymore. The final physical symptom are their eyes. Once filled with hellfire, it is far more likely nowadays to see their extinguished, golden-brown irises instead. It is slightly controllable with their emotional state, or when using their powers though.

In other ways, the blood has made Talon far more empathetic, given them a conscience. Troubled with how their actions will effect others now, the suffering and cruelty of the world has become a pain all it's own. Dulling the delight in spreading fear and even disturbing the once simple exchange of souls, Talon is often contemplating their next course of action instead of only giving thought to their best interests. And how their previous, often violent actions, have caused so much.

The agony and illness of coughing up feathers and demonic bile leaves talon haggard and frail. Getting sleep and relaxation would help the most, but with their paranoia it is difficult for them to find places to fully lower their guard and properly rest. Talon's tried to get a room in the crossroad saloon before, but it's... never really worked out (Gragas doesn't let them). Hating and damning the ailment only makes it worse, since it's basically like trying to separate themself from something that has already been mixed in. Feathers get stuck in their many teeth, skin itches from keratin growing in. Fatigue and sensitivity to their own heartbeat. Talon tries their best to hide the majority of their symptoms. Their coughs and exhaustion are the most obvious.

For how the changed made by the affliction is making talon feel... I'm going to paraphrase from a previous message;

I say its dysmorphic but the more I think about it, it's also… having your health decline and your body changing along with it, at least with talons perspective right now since they're losing their demonic powers. dysphoric in the way that they're still holding on to the thought that this isn't what they're supposed to be, they're Supposed to be a being of shadow and hellfire not flesh and bone, let alone feathers and sympathy. so I want it to be much more about accepting that this is their body now moreso than finding a way to reverse the changes. That it's okay to change with age and wisdom as you open yourself up more to the world.

At this time, Talon misses being completely monstrous, of being frightening and having that implicit respect. They feel weaker than they really are because they continue to compare themself to the long-gone height of their power, and because their new physical changes make them feel vulnerable. Being constantly exhausted also doesn't help with any of this. Beyond this though, the only other thing they don't like about these changes is just that; it's different. The uncanny features still don't feel like that that's who they are, and there is this disconnect when others react to them, or comment on their looks.

poses I don't know, maybe Talon just needs some sort of big motivation to no longer see this affliction as a curse, but as an opportunity to be more than a demon that skulks in the shadows. And some encouragement that yes, that is in fact a good thing. Maybe like an ultimatum of some sorts.

[scoutsurge]

when I say we love all Scouts I mean it ( I put a keep reading as a help for people who may be triggered by anything ^^ <3 )

I love Horror stuff <3 though I WILL be screaming and hiding behind my hands or shit I just love the thrill- like AUHGUGHAUGH ASUFYSDF anyways :3c We love the monsters <3 RIGHT GUYS? RIGHT- IM NOT HE CRAZY ONE AM I?

[zillasafe]

Fear and Hunger Layton AU doodles. If you even care. Tee hee

Des’s mutations. His legs and feet are in a similar condition to his arms and hands, but I wasn’t in the mood to do a full-body. If there was text he’d be asking for his shirt back.

Emmy and her wretched cursed sword. Fighting and murder is a lot easier than it should be. And she might just be enjoying it too much…

Three variations of Luke. 1) Normal and upset. 2) Using ancient dark magic. 3) Has been ascending for one (1) whole second, and would really like it to stop now!!

Hershel’s practicing with Black Orb. -20 Mind. -20 Mind. -20 Mind.

Moonless doing the dog side-eye to fill empty space.

[sharonisthebettercarter]

TELL ME HOW I FUCKIN' CALLED THIS SHIT.

seem familiar?

i'm definitely nicknaming her minerva but HOLY SHIT. i'm pretty sure she may have nicked all the v when billy took it too (assuming she was dying after the temp v--might still be dying) but maybe it wasn't enough?? she straight up ATE the stretchy guy maybe she'll get a taste for it--

Y'ALL i do NOT think it's *becca* talking to billy. i think something much more sinister may be at play maybe diggin' through his memories and usin' it against him--

devil's in the details as they say...

[dragon-creates]

bowuigi werewolf fic premise

"Help...get help..."

That was the last thing Luigi heard Mario say, watching his brother's complexion fade from pale beige to translucent white, a pained scream escaping the red plumber's throat before his human form was replaced with a terrifying boo instead.

It had been a while since Luigi had seen King Boo, hoping that he was finished with the poltergeist's schemes. But it seems that the undead monarch had other plans.

At first it started out the same, E. Gadd requested for his help at a new mansion, Mario had been captured as well and Luigi spent most of his adventure sucking up ghosts while collecting any money he found along the way.

Expect it wasn't E. Gadd who was asking for him to come, and Mario was only bait for a trap laid out by King Boo. Soon, the brothers were trapped in separate cages, the older trying to comfort the younger as best he could until King Boo came back holding two potions.

Luigi was first, being levitated out of the cage by two other boos holding onto his arms as the king forced the liquid down his throat, making sure he downed every last drop. Once the bottle was empty, Luigi was thrown to the floor as a sharp pain pierced threw his spine.

His bones cracked as his clothes began to tear and his body shifted and molded into something totally inhuman. The green human watched in horror as fur protruded from his skin and his mouth stretched and twisted into a snout. Luigi wanted to scream, but he was in so much pain that he barely has any energy to make no more than a whine. When it was done, he looked down to see that his hands were now paws and a tail was poking through his overalls. His stomach churned when he realized that King Boo and managed to accomplish turning him into a werewolf.

He all but collapsed on the floor, helpless to do anything but watch King Boo take the other potion and repeat everything with his brother. He knew he couldn't just lay here, he had to do something!

When he successfully managed to stand on all fours for the first time, he turned to his brother, who had unfortunately drank his potion as well, leading to Mario turning into a boo and whispering his last sentence to Luigi.

Adrenaline kicked in, his new nose twitched, his fur stood on end, everything felt alive! Once King Boo turned back to face the younger brother, the new wolf was already bolting out the door, his new form giving his an unimaginable speed he never felt or saw before.

He ran through each hallway, past each ghost and boo, not bothering to look back as he managed to escape through the mansion doors and into the nearest pipe he could find, ignoring King Boo's shrieks of anger.

On the other side, the adrenaline was finally fading away, leaving Luigi to hobble throughout wherever he landed upon. His bleary eyes took in their surroundings as best as they could, lit up by the bright moon, there was something familiar about the rock and lava he passed but he was too tired to let himself remember.

Finally, he came across a huge fortress, hopefully whoever was in there could help him. He lifted a paw to pitifully scratch at the door, pleading interally that someone would answer, every second he could feel himself wasting away.

As though his prayers were answered, the doors opened, revealing an extremely large and confused koopa. Only it wasn't any koopa, the last of his lucidity kicked in when he realized that it was none other than King Bowser who answered the door.

"Wha?- What is the meaning of this?!" he demanded, "Why the hell is there a mutt at my castle?!"

He tried to give a response, but the sun began to rise and he let out a pained whine as his bones cracked and clicked back into his human form, ready to repeat the process for every morning and evening to come.

"Luigi?" the koopa's harsh gaze was gone, replaced with confusion and a lace of worry?

"Please," Luigi whimpered, "I have nowhere else to go."

He stumbled, slumber catching up to him as he fainted, only for Bowser to catch him and hold the human in his arms.

"Easy there greenie," Bowser murmured as Luigi drifted into sleep. Bowser's heart plummeted at the state the plumber was in, "Oh Luigi, what happened to you?"

Feel free to use this as inspiration for any fics you want to write!!! <3<3<3

[acrylicscore]

He will crawl into your brain and force your brain to rot (affectionately)

Yes I am very mentally well about the Mimic AU Yes I have gotten a good nights rest the past two nights. Yes I am sane. No, this post had no impact on my brain in the slightest…

@yoguyslook what did you do to me? /j

Also some more stuff below: [Warning for body horror transformation on last one!]

Body horror my beloved-

[roychewtoy]

impaled

[zekewavev2]

[A tragedy that ended the world.]

[ughitsniya]

i don’t know who i am

[summer-r-storm]

On this April 1st the only fool is me bc I actually drew fanart for a franchise I don't even care for.

[thatonesimp-e]

I'm gonna start uploading Pizza Tower stuff because brainrot and I got bored asf so uh have these drawing of Fake Peppino (Bruno) and Peppino

[lunarrolls]

trying to scroll through my dash to figure out which one of my mutuals rbed the “the inherent body horror of being ashton greymoore” post because i LITERALLY have not stopped thinking about it

[bespectacledbun]

—There was a concept he learned about, years ago, when he was but a boy under the tutelage of various scholars (prior to their replacement by Sariel). An old empire, one scholar had told him– a wizened old man who seemed more a part of his beloved history books than of the living– older than Rhodolite, or Obsidian, or even Benitoite. The people had a peculiar way of dealing with tyrants and despots they deemed unfit for the governing of the country. They would carve out the names of the damned from the annals of history, chip away at statues until they remained faceless, and destroy every record until there was nothing that could prove they had ever existed. A total condemnation of memory, he had said, stroking a contemplative hand over his whiskery beard, one that served to wipe every trace of their person from the people’s hearts and minds.

He didn’t need to ask what it felt like, because he already knew. Slowly but surely, over days, months, and years, his posture was fixed, his manner of speech grew refined, and every sinew and muscle in his body was tenderized over and over and over to make his body no longer recognizable to himself. Until he could walk like a royal, could talk like a royal, could effectively fool kin and community into believing he was their beloved prince. Until the yoke of authority felt as familiar on his shoulders as the chains of oppression, until his duties were as natural to him as sleeping and breathing.

Until every last fragment of his being was forgotten and replaced, leaving nothing behind but “Leon Dompteur”.

—excerpt from my wip of ‘Damnatio Memoriae’, a Leon character study