#herman goring

[dontcallittimetravel]

Happy deathday to Herman Göring. No really, that's it, it's just a happy, happy deathday! In fact, we should celebrate this day every year!! After all, the only good fascist is a dead fascist

[opens-up-4-nobody]

:-P

[myxineye]

my doctor cosmetic + badge entries for the design contest! outfit was based off a silly pun ⚡⚡ (also adding the conductor doctor doodle separately since i like it :D)

[brody75]

Ebola Syndrome (1996)

[slaughtershrine]

can i get a crumb of doctor content pls…*shakes empty can* maybe something where he’s a little too enthused with reader? I’ll let you take the reins…<3

Cultivated Mind.

(The Doctor/Herman Carter x Reader)

Summary: You’ve suffered through the trial, every second struggling not to lose your focus. The Doctor's presence is a constant. Never leaving you even in your thoughts. You're losing your mind and all capability. It's all his fault. His relentless obsession ruins you, warping and cultivating your mind for his own pleasure. But his greed and desire builds, he needs more from you, he desires something more tangible, he needs to feel you break. Word-count: 1,445.

Warning(s): Suggestive descriptions. Mentions of Blood. Mentions of a Corpse. Mentions of Death. Mentions of Insanity. Mentions of Obsession.

Guttural, raspy screams and agonized cries echo through the halls of the dilapidated hospital. You can feel your pulse quicken as you shakily work on the generator, speeding up more and more for every second that ticks by in the trial. It feels like your blood is going to rush so fast you explode, the pressure building up and making every inch of your body stiff. There’s a tightening in your belly, not only can you feel your heart pounding, so violently it feels like it lies in your throat — but you can feel it, pumping harder and harder ready to drop out onto the base of your tongue.

It’s all his fault. The Doctor. He has always shown a keen interest in you, in the others as well of course — during trials, but none of them seem to be hunted down quite as relentlessly. He follows them during trials, shocking them until they lose their minds. But not you. It’s more than blood-thirst. He follows you, torments you, in and out of trials regardless. It isn’t an occasional feeling for you, you can't remember much, but you know for certain you recall a constant buzzing in the background, a sickening static that never stops. A suffocating presence that follows you everywhere. It’s terrifying.

It’s harder and harder to resist the thoughts of just giving up, letting him experiment and get what he wants from you until he’s finally finished. It would be easier, it would end quicker. It would be less scary. The endless stalking you're so sure happened, but can't recollect. The hundreds of questions with no answers, not knowing is what feels the worst. You don't know what he wants, and it’s agony waiting for the finale. Perhaps the entity knows. But you only know you want the pain of trials and fear out of trials to end. You try to block it out, pushing the incessant thoughts away — they’re getting ahead of you. The sound of the generator blends back into your ears, thrumming and creaking. Almost as if it’s moaning in it’s last moments. What the fuck is wrong with the generator?

Something sways in the back of your vision, redirecting your attention. A filthy, dirt stained white sheet. Hardly surprising, this whole place is just filthy stains, among white walls and broken electrical wires. It takes you a moment to realize something isn't right, that you had let your mind unfocus for too long. The sheet is a coat — wrapped around a form that hangs from a hook, it sways back and forth limply, the creaking and moaning pulls from the body in the throes of each swing, getting louder and quieter as it moves to and fro. You feel sickness cover your body as the realization sets in — It’s Adam.

An unconscious strangled cry echoes from your parted lips as you turn, and you throw your body towards his own, drooping as it hangs from the hook, your hands fumble and shake as you reach for him. He’s so limp, so still and bloodied. The entity cuts you off, aggressively clawing at his corpse. The sound of his flesh sloppily tearing off the hook slowly reverberates, repeating over and over in your mind, it’s nauseating. You can feel the sick clumping in the back of your throat and the familiar taste of bile building. His skin is shredded to strands as he is lifted from the hook. The entity pulls carelessly as his blood flings off each thread, covering you and the floor in the warm crimson liquid. Everything is numb, you can’t feel anything — it’s only obvious you're crying when you hear your own devastated sobs rip out through your lips.

The doctor has to be somewhere near. Was Adam on his second hook, doomed to fail anyway? Or did you just let him suffer in the back, as you let your thoughts overtake you? You’re doing it again. You scream in your head, begging yourself to stop thinking, and more tears fall out in frustration. You caused Adam's death. You should have focused and you should have helped him, It’s your fault. You lose focus so often, no recollection or memory storage in your mind, what’s wrong with you? You always slip into it so seamlessly, like it’s a regular state, a state of inability — perhaps you do it so often, that being aware of your surroundings and having focus, or any ability of reminiscence is more unnatural now. You’re at fault for his death, you’re at fault for how poorly the trial is going. Your mind is ruined, and you can’t even focus when it’s most needed — only fractures of occasional consciousness aiding you. Where has your self-control gone, have you ever had it?

Everything spirals, your brain is only able to think of The Doctor, anything else is a challenge. He’s a slimy parasite, worming and gnawing at any autonomy left in your form, before consuming it greedily. The hospital is distant and blurred around you, but your last slither of awareness has a tight grip, nagging your mind as warning. Alerting you desperately with a cold shiver down your spine. Making your attention come back, to the shadow that now covers your form. You don’t want to move, don’t want to tear your eyes toward the figure towering over you, but you can’t help yourself. Dread seizes your heart — The Doctor's form stands next to you, still and waiting. As if your nagging thoughts had summoned him. 

He matches your gaze as you stare up at him, only much more intensely. Your body waits, tingling expectantly for the electric shock to come, to increase the feeling of the constant static in your head and leave you paralyzed. But he leaves you anticipating. His pried-open, bloodshot eyes just stare into yours, wide and bulging. They look like they might burst, twitching and overcrowding your vision. Your breath hitches and you try to back away, stumbling as you turn. There’s only him. Surrounding you, at every pivot, at every look — it’s all met with his manic eyes. Desperately watching, eyeing you up hungrily. Everything spins and blends, the only solid form is his. Watching and observing perpetually. It’s all raw and nauseating as your body lurches and panics.

Your lungs burn and your chest aches as you force yourself to breathe, to try and calm down. It isn't working, it all just comes out heavily, erratically. You're losing your mind. Each gasp for air feels like you’re losing more than you’re taking in. Every despairing glance meets his, twisted and crazed. But something’s wrong. The only movement is your unsettled spinning, he just stands still, unbreathing, surrounding you. They’re Illusions — they’re all in your head. But not all of it, you can feel the sweat building up on your skin, and the throbbing in your veins — The Doctor is really here, he must be close, watching you fall apart.

And you catch him, a figure down the hall swaying. Watching intently, obsessively leering as he drinks it all in. His teeth chatter in excitement through his gaping grin and static sparks across the floor — the sound of the wave muffling the quivers and deep, breathy grunts that fall through his teeth. He can’t help himself. Savoring as every thought, every movement of yours is reprogrammed by him. He adores the control, and the feeling of being inside of you. Burrowing deeper and deeper into your mind. Tearing your awareness from you, before dangling it back in your view. Allowing you to graze it with the tips of your fingers before pulling back once more. 

It’s been enough to satiate his obsession so far. Stripping you of all sanity and rendering you incapable and thoughtless. Only allowing you to think of him, as he does you. But he’s been patient — destroying your mind through the thousands of trials, unwavering from that focus. But he requires more now, to destroy your physical form as well, to feel you break in his very own hands. To feel your hot flesh writhe. His ‘enthusiasm’ has reached his limit, and he can’t stop his body from stalking over eagerly. The air crackles with electricity as he closes the distance. Reaching out ready and anticipating to claim your body, along with your prepped, broken mind. He’ll undo you in every way, slipping your mind into madness as he touches every inch of his obsession. Tearing screams and moans from you. Selfishly taking your blood and your wet pleasure. Everything of yours will be his from now on, not just the damaged mind he’s cultivated.

[soapkaars]

Steamy hot sex surgery in granddad's laboratory

[hobbyistmurderer]

Herman Carter - The Doctor | Get Out The Way - Mother Mother

[rohire]

Having my go with color for once in a longtime...well executed? Herman Carter slight nsfw horror art. Perceive the back story as you will.

[dzthenerd490]

File: Elfen Lied

SCP#: ADY

Code Name: The Clone Plague/ The Diclonius Invasion

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: All contained instances of SCP-ADY-Alpha are contained at Site-AB. They are to be contained within metal coffins and have headsets that project memetic images into their eyes. The memetic agents send their minds into a dream-like state within the mind allowing them to indulge in whatever desires they want without limitations. Meanwhile the metal coffins hook them up to Pygmalion Bio Editor Station that keeps their bodies paralyzed while also injecting them with the medication and nutrients needed for their bodies to stay alive. The only exception is Lucy.

Lucy is contained at Site-AF and is to be given any furniture, books, and games she desires. Any Foundation staff that show scorn or hatred towards her are to be punished with cleaning duty of SCP-035's containment cell. There are no exceptions. 

SCP-ADY-Beta instances are contained depending on their mental state and allyship with the Foundation. Though for obvious reasons none are allowed within Site-AM even if they have confirmed to have no violent tendencies or desire to spread infection. Those that prove they are not a threat, but allies are sent to the higher levels of Site-AF and given treatment similar to Lucy. Those with the worst personalities and most violent tendencies are contained within one of the sublevels of Site-AF. There they are used for testing weapons and armor that are supposed to be useful against metaphysical threats. They are typically used until they die and are later dissected and harvested for testing purposes. Under no circumstances are any SCP-ADY instances in the higher or lower levels ever to interact with one another even through eye contact and even if it's just once. 

SCP-ADY-Delta instances are to be killed on sight and have their bodies transported to the nearest Foundation site for dissection, harvesting, and testing. There are no exceptions. 

Most SCP-ADY-Gamma are Contained at Site-AD, though depending on their mutation it's possible for them to be sent elsewhere. Dr. Wicked and administrative staff at Site-AD are to be debriefed on what exactly the anomalous properties of each SCP-ADY-Gamma instance so that they can make proper containment for each instance. Please see Addendum X-32 for details.

Description: SCP-ADY is a virus that once infecting humans causes any children, they convince to not be born as a human but instead an entirely different species. The most common of these instances are SCP-ADY-Beta instances. SCP-ADY-Beta instances take on the appearance of young and beautiful girls with red eyes, pink hair, and horns growing out of their head. Despite being horns they can often be perceived as cat ears from a distance further making the SCP-ADY-Beta instances look adorable and pretty as a result. 

However, despite looking cute, SCP-ADY-Beta instances are extremely dangerous. Upon reaching a certain age, normally 10 years old, each SCP-ADY-Beta instance gains the anomalous ability to manifest four arm-like appendages from their back. These appendages are metaphysical in nature, being invisible and able to phase through all forms of matter. SCP-ADY-Beta instances can control the physical state of these appendages in whether they can phase or become solid, the maximum length of these appendages are normally 2-4 meters. These appendages, or meta-arms, despite resembling arms, move around like tentacles and can do so with incredible speed. Once solid, they are strong enough to bend steel easily, rip apart flesh effortlessly, and can even infect humans with SCP-ADY upon contact.

SCP-ADY-Beta instances are very good at absorbing knowledge and thus can become a genius in a matter of hours upon being born. It's not uncommon for SCP-ADY-Beta instances to act innocent, cute, and fragile in order to get the drop on humans they plan to infect or kill. When an SCP-ADY-Beta instance infects a human with their meta-arms, the resulting child from pregnancy is an SCP-ADY-Beta instance exactly like themselves. However, they will always start off with the same personality the original SCP-ADY-Beta instance started off with the same desires and views on humanity regardless of how much the parent SCP-ADY-Beta instance has changed in personality and desires since then. The only exception is SCP-ADY-Alpha instances.

SCP-ADY-Alpha instances are considered the Queens of the overall species. Each SCP-ADY-Alpha instance is similar to SCP-ADY-Beta instances though they all have the ability to create unique SCP-ADY-Beta instances with their infection and can summon more of these meta-arms either by the age of 10 or over time through various other means. The normal count of meta-arms they can grow is anywhere between 8-32 and can extend anywhere from 3-30 meters, possibly longer.

SCP-ADY-Alpha instances are the true progenitors of all other variants within the SCP-ADY species and the carriers of the true pure form of the virus. SCP-ABY-Beta instances are not necessarily obedient to SCP-ADY-Alpha instances, but they normally do not attack one another regardless. Each SCP-ADY-Alpha instance is born the same way as a SCP-ABY-Beta instance, they are like a mutation that has a 10% of happening for every SCP-ADY birth. 

Currently the Foundation is in possession of eight of these instances. The most important on record is one named Lucy. Lucy has the particular ability of accelerated thought, allowing her to perceive and remember everything she sees around her with great efficiency, accuracy, and speed. This with the added bonus that all SCP-ADY metaphysical arms can move at incredible speeds means she could essentially do hundreds of things around her at once. It's even possible for her to use her metaphysical arms to block hundreds of different bullets around her. Thankfully being raised with Foundation staff she has grown a kinship with humanity and all life as a result. She has no desire to kill non-SCP-ADY life and no desire to spread the infection. She does get aggravated when the occasional Foundation staff member bullies her but thankfully it never gets too violent, she normally just plunges them headfirst into the nearest toilet. 

SCP-ADY-Delta instances are extremely rare male counterparts of all the SCP-ADY instances. They sometimes have pink hair, red eyes, and horns like their female counterparts but more often than not, they are bald with just the horns. Most of the time they are unable to manifest the metaphysical arms. The best they can do is manifest one, two if they are lucky; their length is normally 1 meter or lower. SCP-ADY-Delta instances are considered not a threat on their own; however, if an SCP-ADY-Delta instance were to mate with an SCP-ADY-Beta instance the result would be a naturally birthed SCP-ADY-Alpha instance. Furthermore, if one was to mate with an SCP-ADY-Alpha instance, the result would be an even more powerful SCP-ADY-Alpha instance. As such, every SCP-ADY-Delta instance is to be killed on sight, there are no exceptions. 

SCP-ADY-Gamma are extremely peculiar instances, in that they are not supposed to exist. SCP-ADY-Gamma instances are the result of the SCP-ADY infection spreading unknowingly to non-humans. The resulting mutations have led to an abundance of abnormalities. Please see Addendum X-32 for details. 

SCP-ADY was discovered in Japan in 1917 when the National Research Institute on Human Evolution tried to form into power by capturing and sharing research on SCP-ADY with the Japanese Government. It was quickly destroyed by the Global Occult Coalition and most of the SCP-ADY instances captured there were killed as well. Over the years survivors of the Institute as well as escaped SCP-ADY instances have been hunted by the GOC. 

Unfortunately, under law of the ACPA, the Global Occult Coalition has complete reins over the subjugation of SCP-ADY. As such, the Foundation's Japanese division is to merely wait for SCP-ADY instances to show up at their doorstep in order to have any rights to containment. This is why no specific MTF has been assigned or created to deal with the threat. 

SCP-ADY was considered a massive threat upon discovery; However, as of 2005 a vaccine has been created and secretly distributed to the public through normal vaccines. Naturally without the virus, the population of SCP-ADY instances are slowly dying out. Though unfortunately there are SCP-ADY-Gamma instances that are able to create a different strain of the virus making the vaccine worthless against them. Thankfully the Foundation was able to gain reign over these instances, though that is not to say it's always been successful. 

The SCP-ADY-Gamma infection has proven extremely impossible to properly predict and is extremely dangerous to the point multiple MTF have been created for even a single instance and the Foundation has suffered massive damage and casualties as a result. It's unknown if the situation will ever get better or become progressively worse as a result. It is solely because of SCP-ADY-Gamma instances that SCP-ADY is still given the Object Classification of Keter.

Update 2008 - Lucy and the few confirmed non-hostile SCP-ADY-Beta instances have been employed by the Foundation. Though unknown to them, chips have been placed on the back of their necks so that if they start going on rampages they will be killed instantly. Though thankfully such a scenario requiring the devices has never occurred, it is with hope this will continue long into the future. Furthermore, Lucy has joined MTF Alpha-9 Division "Sword" and with the help of Dr. Talic has managed to control her murderous instances to reserve it towards hostiles instead. 

Side Note: SCP-ADY instances have unfortunately fallen into the possession of other groups of Interest such as The Black Queen's Insurgency; Marshall, Carter, and Dark Ltd; Herman Fuller's Circus of the Disquieting; SAPPHIRE; The Reliquary; IJAMEA; The Fifth Church; The Serpent's Hand; Shark Punching Center; and The Dark Dragons. Some have even been reported trying to help restore the SCP-ADY population for various different reasons. The ACPA's efforts to stop this are ongoing.

.

SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

[davyjoneslockr]

Category 5 Monkees event happening. In my brain

[kds-art]

Some of my art!

[selitoxicmoon]

WHUMPTOBER 2022: No.5 - Every whumpee's needs

Topic: Blood Loss | Running out of air Time for Spider-verse with Blaze-Cop~ (Spoileeers!) Looks like she had something hard with Shocker and Scorpion.... and something about him drilling her lung with some.... poison~

[italianiinguerra]

Licata 11 luglio 1943, l'estremo sacrificio del generale dalla Milizia Enrico Francisci

Il 12 luglio 1943 venne ritrovato sulle spiagge di Licata il corpo decapitato del generale Enrico Francisci morto il giorno precedente, nel corso del contrattacco alle truppe americane sbarcate nella zona. Il 10 luglio 1943, l’ufficiale della Milizia Volonatria per la Sicurezza Nazionale era stato incaricato dal generale di corpo d’Armata Alfredo Guzzoni, comandante delle truppe dell’Asse in…

[myxineye]

uploading the drawing i made for my "live conductor" outfit concept separately since i like it enough :D

(concept can be found here!)

[denver-heavy-metal-society]

Denver slam band Gore Loaf live at Herman's Hideaway in Denver, CO. Video courtesy of Denver Heavy Metal Society.

[once-was-muses]

@guardiacompagnia | An Extremely Self-Indulgent Meme

❰❰ MEDIC ❱❱ receiver bandages sender’s wounds (for dr. carter!)

Oh, how he despises this current situation he's found himself in.

He'd managed to evade many of the dropped pallets during his most recent Trial, destroying and replacing each with a hallucination shared by survivors and killer alike- Only for his impeccable mind to wander without his knowledge, torn three ways between listening for the Hatch, tracking the last survivor, and whatever thought had wriggled its way into the foreground of his consciousness. He lost focus. The final pallet he'd chased Ms. Feng through was not a hallucination, crashing down on him in an excruciatingly real way. Very real, and very wrong- it felt more like he was stabbed directly in the grey matter than simply stunned. He stumbles, some part of him catching on the decrepit door frame and tearing with a grotesquely wet noise.

Herman has no idea when his lapse of consciousness occured, nor for how long it lasted. All he can gather is what's evident in his surroundings. And the uncontrollable, erratic twitching throughout his musculature. The Entity had left him in the Borgo for whatever reason, likely a punishment for 'allowing' Ms. Feng to escape, and now his favorite shirt is torn in the sleeve. And one of the metal cased wires is sticking out from his bicep much more than usual, skin split wide open were it was yanked free.

Then there's the medieval oaf looming over him, poking at his scalp where part of the metal frame must have snapped and pierced the flesh, blood trickling down his face to drip from his chin. Those latter two facts must be why he can't stop this fucking twitching. There is no control in this position, and he's not even permitted to be alone while he waits to bleed out and inevitably be reformed again.

He wants to fry Kovács in that overly decorated tin can he wears, lash out in some way and make the other bleed as well, but can't even stop his leg from kicking at nothing like he's having an agonizingly slow seizure.

"Are y-ee-ou qui-te d-one?" Kill him now, he can't even speak.