someotherthingsmaybe

[someotherthingsmaybe]

[someotherthingsmaybe]

genuinely oddly gender affirming to just break my body down to my core components

It’s supposed to be human cells but I don’t think it worked in acrylic I will try again with alcohol markers

At least it still looks interesting

[someotherthingsmaybe]

Not to be dramatic or anything but transness sometimes really is having to split your body open and trying to crawl out of it and I think a lot of body horror really captures that

[someotherthingsmaybe]

I LOVE THIS OMG i need more trans body horror inspo

Oops my pen slipped and I made art about being transgender again oopsie.

[someotherthingsmaybe]

There is a deep hunger inside of me. One that food will not satisfy anymore.

It was a normal hunger at first.

A terrible one that gnawed at my stomach and insides and made me nauseous but nothing I hadn’t experienced before.

I tried to eat through the sick feeling in my stomach, filling it with bread and meat and anything else edible I laid eyes on.

But the hunger was not satisfied.

I sit on my bed, dissociated, drifting in and out of reality as the hunger comes and goes in waves.

I realise with a start that it is a hunger for flesh.

Though I would be lying to myself if I said I had not been expecting it.

I gnaw on the inside of my cheek until I taste blood, trying to mask it fruitlessly.

I decide on trying to sleep, forcing myself to ignore the feeling. In my dreams I am heavy and my hands are sharp and my vision is clear. I chase down a deer and rip it apart with my claws. The hot blood trickles down my throat while I chew on it’s flesh. The craving is finally satisfied.

I wake up covered in blood.

I soak my clothes in salt and lye. I am not inexperienced when it comes to dealing with blood. I convince myself that this will pass.

I’m still hungry, I’m so hungry and I don’t want to listen but there is a throbbing in my chest that I cant seem to shake.

My vision is filled with static.

I rub my hands for comfort. They seem much rougher now, my nails have turned to claws and my vision blurs.

I shake out my hands and they’re normal again. The hunger is making me see things, I tell myself.

I try to sleep again. Somehow hours have passed. The house feels too empty. Has it always been this quiet? I’m too hungry to dwell on it.

In my dream the beast is hungry again. The deer only satisfied it briefly. My chest is throbbing with a different pain now.

I claw at my chest in a desperate attempt to mask the throbbing pain inside of me with a different kind, one of flesh, of blood, something tangible instead of the thing slowly breaking me apart.

I growl and bare my teeth at the outside world because I am angry at its insides.

I wish to not have feelings anymore as I cannot stand the wretched things.

I cannot stand them and yet they crawl inside my mouth and catch on my throat and make me gag until they make their way through my flesh and into my heart and make it hurt.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, please make it stop.

The surface pain is not enough.

I remain oddly calm, as though I am merely a spectator looking out at my own actions without control.

But I am the beast and the beast is me.

I wake up bleeding again. It’s not right. I was not supposed to bleed. I take care of it before anyone sees.

The day is a blur. People smile and touch my shoulder and ask if I’m alright and all I can do is nod and clutch my stomach and keep my mouth shut to hide my fangs.

I don’t want to be awake so I go back to sleep. It’s taking me too long to fall asleep so I take the sleeping pills. Was the jar of them always this empty?

In my dream the beast is weaker. It pants and coughs up blood. There’s a deep wound in my chest but it’s not enough.

I don’t want to feel anymore.

With my last ounce of strength I raise my arm and plunge down the sharp claws.

An electric shock strikes through my body but the beast needs more.

I dig the claw deeper into my chest and pull the wretched chunk of flesh that has been making me feel. I cannot stand the sight of it.

The beast sinks its teeth into my heart and rips it apart. I am mangled but somehow still alive. I feel number with each bite and would feel relieved if I were capable of emotions anymore.

The hunger is gone now. I feel empty. I let myself close my eyes and drop to my knees and to the ground.

[someotherthingsmaybe]

I think more trans people should write body swap stories especially when the sex is swapped and I think they should be psychological horror I feel like alot of cis people don't understand how miserable and horrifying being In the wrong body really is I feel like a trans writer could capture that really well. To add to that I feel as though trans people would be really good at body horror creating that feeling of wrongness would be effortless when you already know how that feels how it feels to have puberty hit and watch your body distort and twist into something wrong on a fundamental level

[someotherthingsmaybe]

It would be so cool to have some trans writers and directors in the body horror genre. I think that’s why it facilitates and terrifies me. The idea of feeling/being trapped in your own body. I think that’s why I couldn’t finish The Skin I Live In the first time I watched it. And why Titane is one of my favorite movies. The body horror genre puts ti words what I’ve been feeling my whole life and haven’t been able to articulate until very recently.

[someotherthingsmaybe]

remember when they made mark scout look like a homeless emo man with 6 felony charges in the birthing cabin scene but mark s looked like the male lead in a rom com directed by a woman like how did they do that

[someotherthingsmaybe]

OK OK I'll stop procrastinating (・・;

[someotherthingsmaybe]

Lumon Industries ads, anyone?

(do not repost without credits or else!!!!!!)

[someotherthingsmaybe]

sydney sargent saying the most harrowing shit imaginable

will wood on the piano in the background:

[someotherthingsmaybe]

[someotherthingsmaybe]

They should invent a method of asking for reassurance that nobody secretly hates you that doesn't make people secretly hate you.

[someotherthingsmaybe]

[someotherthingsmaybe]

:(

[someotherthingsmaybe]

SEVERANCE TMA CROSSOVER???? (kinda?) MY DREAMS!!!

the probability of your creepy boss randomly giving you balloons is low, but never zero 👁️

[someotherthingsmaybe]

he's like if a gerbil made a wish to be a real boy