#tw; body horror

[steam-beasts]

Small animation meme ^_^ (warning; it's pretty rushed so its probably not very well paced n' stuff)

Praise be the Heavens!

[winter-mornings]

Uroboric

[mlp-ask-blog-doodle]

infected au is popular rn.

My take on how an infection would work in MLP actually puts twilight in the hot spot and has to do with older generations.

I think the changelings are descendants of the Breezies since we know in G4 they make several references as far back as G1. And if they are willing to make those references, then the times where Equestria is in danger of full collapse. So I don't think its a far cry to say something like an infection where a being in a magical world becomes feral and seeks out more magic... sounds a lot like a changeling right? Back in the earlier generations alicorns were rare but still just normal ponies, I think the evolution over time turned the infected Breezies into Changelings, and the evolution of alicorns to be more than normal ponies, only made more so by the eventual segregation and then re-integration of other races, something that is shown to happen over and over again.

So how is this Twilight's fault? Friendship.

Twilight introduced the changelings, even though reformed, into pony society. Sure they evolved to be one with the magic consuming rabies, but that doesn't mean the ponies did, and you know what happens when integration happens? Breeding. They obviously have the capability, given how they can change into anything but choose to mostly be ponies.

That offspring is so unpredictable. Whos to say it wont draw on that old rabid DNA?

Subject Zero is probably one of those offspring, and the show has shown over and over that only ponies can have cutie marks, but others do want them, and they are a source of some great magic. What if this hybrid offspring doesn't want love, what if it wants magic? It canonically is not just unicorns that have magic in the MLP universe, the magic of cutie marks is what makes earth ponies so strong, what makes the Pegasi able to fly and stand on clouds.

An outbreak of this, with no real knowledge of how to stop it would be devastating. Especially if some retired immortals got infected, wouldnt it?

I think twilight would be pushed to the edge for answers, pushed enough to remove all the magic from equestria to save her ponies. Magic items are known to last eons in this world, and surely it would outlast this ravenous virus, but with out the magic, even alicorns will die a natural length of life.

So yeah, she starved out the infected ponies, she was more successful than the last time it happened, but that caused the rift between species once more and now no one has magic or cutie marks.

[ronkeyroo]

Animation sketch dump INCOMING

way too many wips and abandoned projects for animation videos god knows if ill ever finish 🥲

[edlinklover]

a design i made almost a year ago and can finally post now

basically the concept was "what if Fukase died once and then came back but it was kinda fucked up"

[ajokeformur-ray]

I genuinely believe I am ugly and irredeemable and disgusting and intolerable and stupid and weak and inferior and all those other things. Those words don't always creep up on me and I try to be kind to me when they do, but tonight I'm really REALLY hearing it and it's making me wanna rip my skin off and carve my menstrual acne off my body with a knife and cut my hair short and quit uni and sabotage all my friendships and potential relationship and -

[julianobungus]

Inflation/TF ideas in the same vein as blueberry inflation.

I've seen a lot of expansion art revolving around different types of inflation TF - watermelon, apple, orange, tomato etc. - so I decided to write my own ideas for expansion TF.

Tomato - whereas blueberry expansion victims become big enough as is, the tomato variant end up even larger; while blueberries are known to reach the size of a house, tomatoes become the size of a mansion. At the current time, there is no know way to transport a tomato victim, so juicing must be undertaken onsite.

The juicing process is never absolute, however. Tomatoes can never fully be shrunken down back to their original size and weight; whereas blueberries can be juiced to the point of becoming slim and light again, tomatoes can only be juiced into a flabby, obese shape, constantly leaking tomato juice and barely mobile. PERMANENT.

Marshmallow - people who become marshmallows will first notice their body becoming pudgier, before taking on a whitish, almost albino hue. As they expand, their body will become puffier, now softer and less fleshy - having a spongy texture to it. Limbs will similar thicken and become puffy/porous, unable to bend. Legs and feet may still stay on the ground alongside their lower half, but mobility will be impossible. The victim is left a pure white, plush, vaguely round mass of helpless sugar-mould. While sizes vary, the most common mass is that comparable to a large car or small room.

This isn't all. The marshmallow will find themselves insatiably aroused, being brought to orgasm every 5-10 minutes or so. Instead of natural fluid, ejaculate will have been replaced by a white, sugary and syrupy substance tasting of marshmallows; this same substance now fills the victim's entire body (save for the cranium). 'Juicing' is unfeasible, as not only does the body's new spongy quality prevent proper compression, but the sweet substance within always replenishes. 'Permamallow' victims can expect a new life of immobility and endless euphoria. PERMANENT.

Gelatine ('Jelly') - One of the more 'out-there' cases of inflation, gelatine transformation entails the victim becoming a jiggling, gelatinous, and opaque mass.

The process begins with some expected standard, with the subject gaining weight rapidly and growing from the midsection. Upon the person taking on a chubby, heavy appearance, the process starts to deviate from the expected norm with their midsection - as it continues to grow - starts to become translucent. Skin and muscle take on an opaque characteristic, allowing innards to be seen. As graphic and distressing as this usually for the victim and/or those nearby, this aspect is short-lived as organs start to painlessly dissolve and be absorbed into the homogenising mass of gelatinous sugar. 'Flesh' begins to take on a predictably jiggly quality, with the entirety of the torso adopting this new aspect, as with the limbs. The victim will find themselves unable move or stand up after some time, not only because of the weight and 'softened' nature of their forms, but because bones will begin to dissolve and be assimilated into the sugar-mass. Sizes vary, but victims will usually find themselves reaching the size of a small building.

Pertinent to note is the peculiar instance in which outside object - and even people - may be caught within the rapid growth, and potentially sucked into the victim's new body. For reasons unknown, this isn't fatal for those unlucky enough to escape, but rather they are frozen in some form of suspended animation, left in a seemingly restful sleep. If expanding in a crowded area, 'Permajellies' may find themselves becoming grandiose holding pens for countless collateral victims trapped in slumber within the confines of their own, warped bodies - there is no way to reverse either this sleep or the transformation, with victims being trapped as helpless mounds of jiggling gelatin. PERMANENT.

[tronuskip666]

"Shed every Skin that do not fit, even if you're called cold blooded...and when they try to stop your growth, unhing the jaw and go for the throat."

Previous 21 post of DOETOBER.

[alien-bunny-art]

You stare at the body before you... The top half of his head cleanly slice off. He lacks a brain, he’s clearly having a hard time controlling his body. His limbs twitching and jerking. He has no eyes but he’s facing you. His voice rasps as he reaches out...

Y̸͓̋̋̈͜͜O̶̤̓̅U̶͈͖̺͂̓

I have bacterial contamination on the brain.

[shiroi---kumo]

Where does it ever end, o creature of tainted starlight?

The nature of a nightmare is its predetermined ending. No matter how one may struggle, how much one may wish to set things right, this had all happened already. There was no choice here, just as there had not been a choice back then. She made his choices, moved his muscles back then. The parasite in the pollen, or magic, or whatever wicked strings she had so gleefully attached to his puppet arms.

Bewitched, he played a symphony not of his own making. No, he was not the Maestro of the Massacre; The sword in his hand was no baton, but a mere instrument. Moving along to a predetermined tune, a carnival as old as the world: senseless slaughter.

A doll only obeyed its master, no? Or, perhaps, that was merely what he so desperately wished to believe. Alas, the inner workings of one's mind were often the very harshest of judges.

You know... this isn't true, right?

Pilvi.

My little Pilvi. Hiding behind an array of masks like the terrified princeling you are. So pristine, so holy, you cut yourself away from your hands. Your hands that you used to kill.

But they are your hands, my darling sweetie.

Are you afraid of them?

The ground parts, like a slavering maw of a sleeping beast. It shakes, it breathes, it cries out with all the voices of those that your hands have put down. The verdant witch's laughter ceases - drowned out by a chorus of low moans. Pained, pathetic things, and all their hands.

Clawing at your white fabrics. Clothes that have tasted blood, but we both know this is not about the corporeal, hm? It's all about that sniveling little princeling, still thinking he can hide away so deep the gore never stains him.

Mother's precious boy, oh, what would she think if she saw what you had become?

There is no ability to run, to fly, the ending is predetermined. The hands rise from the earth, peeling flesh on reddish bone. They clutch, and they claw, and they pull. Dragging, dragging you down, down, o demon of tainted starlight, so that you may never again see the sky against which you blasphemed. You crawl, but they strangle you, your claws were never strong enough to dig in. And so, they drag you on coarse rock until your nails break and the flesh tears from your belly. The Soil is here now, at the precipice of the hell you created - it beckons you in.

Cry, weep, scream, little princeling - the end arrives all the same. Bite your apple and lay to rest your wretched fairytale, Snow White, let the dust and dirt fill your lungs and the rot caress your skin. At the horizon of your blurring vison, His skeletal black wings part, painting the sky a deep vermilion. Maybe it should have been you who fell asleep.

White Devil, you fleeting fog, in lightless silence you will die like a dog.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ He knows in his heart that it's only a matter of time before he comes for him.

He knows.

A voice he doesn't know is speaking to him. A deep voice that rumbles up from the cosmos themselves. Maybe it is one of Lord Bahamut's messengers. Maybe this is what the Dragon Lord himself sounded like. Maybe it is the voices of the soil calling out to him... because yes he can hear them too.

He couldn't always. Not when he was a child. He didn't know what to listen for. Not when he was a teenager. Still the voices had never spoken to him.... but when he was nearly a man - when the darkness came to swallow up Windaria just as it had Misterica before...

When the Great Dark came once more, and he watched his new found family shift to the form of glimmering sands only to take up the golden gun into his own hands. That was when he heard them. That was when he felt their power. He might not have been soilborne but his ears could certainly hear them.

Ever since he felt their force eat away at his very being. Ever since he felt his own blood mix with that of the demon gun itself. Black Wind's heart and his own thudding in time and he felt the flood of the soil within it rush into his form and he swore he could have suffocated on the sensation. It was all he could do just to pull the trigger of the Dragon Lord's cannon and feel the kickback almost sent him flying.

He couldn't hear them then but he can hear them now.

But as the voice continues he thinks he knows for sure who this celestial boom belongs to. It has to be Lord Bahamut. It has to be. Who else would call this vessel by such a name? Who else would refer to him in such a way that makes him feel so small? Who else but the Celestial Mother's only blood kin would know him by the name that was given to him by the eclipse themselves?

How else would he be recognized as a celestial?

Only the gods themselves could really see him for such a thing.

He knows what he is. He knows what he's done. He hasn't been able to sleep since. He knows the voices. He's felt the hands and it never gets any easier when those ghastly spirits rise from their graves to claim. They'll drag him down just as the voice says. They rip and claw at fabric and flesh alike while he hasn't even the breath to scream.

A cold hand of Ice Blue clamping down hard over his chin so that any cries from misty lips become that strained muffles. Beg and plead all he likes. They'll come for him. Lord Bahamut will send his kin to claim his sister's failed vessel. Lord Bahamut will come to claim himself.

He waits for the day that clawed hand reaches forward to carve out his heart.

Dark wings spread out before him. The sky stained in that of heat crimson. The bubbling boiling blood of the souls born to soil hue come to drag him into the depths below. Come to drag him home.

Fire Red hands to peel back flesh until he is stained the color of his bloodline and the imprints of his hericay are burned into his bones by every chromatic fingerprint of the Soil that is eager to consume the Mist.

His Mist.

There's no escaping them. There's no escape but he has to try. He can't just die like this. He can't just die because there is still work to be done. There is still work. He knows the depths have a feeling. He knows the depths have a name. A Mother Black darkness that will pull him deep into her void and to the place where it all began. The origin of it all.

That is why this was all predetermined, wasn't it? When his Mist finally fades into the soft Sky Blue then he can finally know rest but would the heavens still except his wretched soul when his one hue was no longer pure? White Clouds stained red.

His hands no longer pure but instead tarnished like silver that has been unkept over the years. It doesn't matter how much he claws or digs. They would drag him down. Drag him down the Burning Gold of his counterpart. Down past the only thing that's ever really mattered to him.

They'd be separated forever -

Jade eyes set up wide as misty breaths roll out of him in heavy pants. Where was - he was in his room ... in his own bed. He was... in the castle and His Excellency has allowed him time to rest?

He doesn't remember falling asleep.

He must have and as moonlit vision travels, it finds deep caverns dug into the mattress upon which he lay. He finds places where his hands clawed at reality while his dreams pulled him under. It was just a dream. A dream again of the souls that have fallen to the Maken's wrath.

Jade vision downcasts as he lets out a sigh. The entire room is completely fogged over and he can only imagine he was screaming in his sleep again. He can only be thankful that the other residents here don't quite have the same hearing as that of a Misterican.

He's only been here four years but it never gets any easier. Not with everything that's happened. Not with everyone who's died. Not with every life he's killed. Not with Rorahm still refusing to wake up.

It never gets any easier because now after everything, he can't escape the voices of the Soil.

[connasse-florale]

some art i made recently . i feel like theres themses going on and it says something about me but also like i cannot tell you what they are

[steam-beasts]

When you get the time, can you draw a feral Lady?

Here is the actual ask

[winter-mornings]

Human Man!

[fried-manto]

Random question Both IC and OOC:

What’s your favorite type of salad?

Watermelon salad! Mari makes the best ones! I like the tofu ones as well, but that's more like Basil's favourites.

...............Watermelon. Apple is ok too.

[ronkeyroo]

❌ The ugliest parts of me never shut up ///

[edlinklover]

also various art that I wanted to post but didn't think I should post individually

the first two images are "corrupted" versions of an outfit I designed for Fukase a couple of years ago