veriarigo

[veriarigo]

I WHOLLY AGREE WITH THIS STATEMENT. WHERE DO I SIGN UP

Hmm, few too many people following me who look like they’re not freaks, one sec:

I would love to turn into an exceedingly fat dragon in an elaborate sequence that would be both spiritually and sensually gratifying for me, and I think that’s soooooooo awesome it’s hot to me

[veriarigo]

There is literally no reason to be ashamed of this!

As a TF writer myself, it's always been that weird feeling of "If my characters were to end up in this situation, I would feel... Really awkward about it. Like, uncomfortably so."

So I made Firefly! A character specifically to represent those TF-ey, hefty sides that I'm just now getting into in full force.

At the end of the day, your characters are your characters. If one doesn't feel comfortable using a character in a situation, there's nothing wrong with deciding not to use them!

I have very few characters who I’d say are unlikely to show up in any comfort food or kink stuff, but Rose and Howell are definitely up there. It’s not any moral stand- there’s nothing amoral about it- but they just don’t… feel like they fit the vibe or would have a good time in that sorta space, and I wouldn’t do that to ‘em.

[veriarigo]

*Raises talon meekly*

Me

Me I'm that guy I'm guilty of this

the average pdf hosted on furaffinity would vaporise a typical asubcultural fantasy writer. have you seen the lengths people will go to worldbuild their kink

[veriarigo]

Hell yeah, I'll drink to that!

Dr. Pepper. I meant Dr. Pepper. Not alcohol.

Remember, the things you make don’t have to be transformative, not at all. Mundane is good too!

I mean, unless you’re a TF artist, then, yeah, it probably should be…

[veriarigo]

"What the... hell...?"

He tried to raise a hand to his head, only to be stopped by the thick steel chain binding it to the bedframe. He tried yanking it, but that only succeeded in making both the bedframe and the chain rattle, and his wrist hurt.

"The hell happened last night man... Went out for... For a... drink... Oh god. Where's Mitchell? Where's Jake?"

Groggy, he managed to sit up, the chains at least allowing that much range of motion. Finally managing to wipe the crust from his eyes, he took a look around.

It looked like a damn prison cell. Or, at the very least, the first room in some fucked up escape game. Cinder block walls, bars separating his cell from a large antechamber ringed by several identical cells. But the furniture didn't make sense. At least, he didn't think prison cells were normally outfitted with fancy Queen-size beds, ornate wooden dressers and a nightstand to match.

Not even a window?

Damn.

A small itch on his arm caught his attention. No matter how much he scratched, it wouldn't go away. Grumbling, he looked down at it, only to balk at what he saw.

His first thought was a rash. An ugly grey rash, covering half his arm and hand. But on second glance, he could see it was much more uniform than a rash, almost mimicking a patchwork of discolored scabs.

Scales.

There were scales on his arm. Grey scales costed the upper part of his arm and hand, coupled with small, downey feathers. His hand itself looked deformed, fingers slightly longer and with his nails having sharpened and darkened into crude claws.

He hurriedly checked the rest of him. And no relief there. The scaled and feathers continued on his other arm and legs, all of which were slightly mutated towards reptilian, and a weight on his spine told him he now had a decently sized tail as well. His face was still relatively normal, save for a few grey spots on his nose.

So that's what the note on the ceiling had said about 'human enough'...

"Oh god... Oh god, what... What is this? What the fuck happened to me?"

Was he going to cry? No, he wouldn't let himself cry. He still had control over himself and his senses, at the very least. He still had a human brain, and he was going to use it.

Giving the chain a closer inspection, he saw it was held in by nothing less than a simple latch mechanism. Easy enough to wiggle a claw under and flip up, and voila! He now had full range of motion with his left arm! Repeat with his other arm and his ankles, and he finally was able to stand up.

Whoa... his stance had changed. On his toes instead of flat footed, which he kind of expected, but at least his legs were still overall plantigrade. Made wobbling over to the nightstand a little easier, and the key was right there on top, just as the note promised.

The clack of the cell bars opening was a welcome sound, for sure.

"Where to from here? Where the fuck is this place? Where are Mitchell and Jake?

"Am I stuck like this?"

You wake up with what feels like a terrible hangover, the dilapidated room around you is unfamiliar and you are chained to the bed, written on the ceiling is the message “If you can read this you’re human enough to use the key on the nightstand”

[veriarigo]

Actually my way of doing transformations for my stories isn't that far off from this!

I only have two stories posted as of now, but my plan is set up in multiple parts:

Part I: Magic has returned to the world. First few transformations happen from random happenstance through archaeological discoveries and whatnot

Part II: People realize they can profit off of this. (Obviously.)

Part II And A Half: Introducing The Other Side, an occult/witchy shop run by a dragon in disguise who sells various transformative methods, from costumes to incense to potions! It's very well kept and very much a legitimate witchy store that just happens to sell transformation too! No, the customer does not know about this!

Part III: The world gradually gets more and more inundated with magic, leading to things like big companies making and selling various transformative serums and whatnot, as well as places like zoos using some less than legal ways of aquiring new animals!

I kinda went all in on trying to make the stories all tie into one another, it's... not a problem........... Also, the stories at first *may or may not* be in perfect chronological order, but it's fiiiiiine

"shady costume store that sells transformation triggers" cliche but it's a legitimate store that precisely labels the effects, an approximation of how the transformation will feel, the final form, and the duration of the change; permanent ones require signing a waiver

[veriarigo]

Well, seeing as I've actually posted something to this blog, time for the obligatory pinned post.

Hi! I'm Veriarigo. This name, and this blog, are both a front for my Transformation stories, so that I can distance them from my main socials. (If you're wondering, my main blog is indeed @gipzisays209)

If you're interested in seeing what I have to offer, I have a DeviantArt, a FurAffinity and a Weasyl, so if TF stories is something you like, make sure you give those a peek!

[veriarigo]

Haven't had an excuse to break out this blog yet, might as well!

Transformation is... such a wonderful thing in and of itself. I know a lot of people think it's weird, they think it's just off-putting fetish content by the crazy animal people drawing NSFW art of their Sona and their favorite character- but it's so much more than that. For someone like me who'se Alterhuman, Transformation is a form of species euphoria. Being able to read fiction about the guy named John who magically gets this weird necklace in the mail and- lo and behold- he's now a dragon- it really tickles the dragon part of my brain, being Dragonkin.

Transformation is a form of escape, really. Escape from humanity, escape from the norms humanity sets in place. Because, I think every one of us at some point in our lives has wondered, in passing or not, "I wonder what it would be like to be my pet. I wonder what it would be like to be that dog on the street, or that cat in that cafe. I wonder..."

Transformation is a wonderful thing. I think it's a beautiful representation of the desire to shed humanity, even if only for a bit. And that's what got me into writing it, because I want to give back to that beautiful, abstract thing we call TF. Give back, and possibly help more people temporarily sit back from humanity and take a small break.

This isn't my art, (it's made by @ TheHearthFox over on Twitter) but I wanted to make a long post about why this work in particular speaks to me so goddamn much. I think such a massive part of the queer experience -- and also the furry experience -- is about the abstract. This can be seen in so many different aspects of furry "culture," from the concept of fursonas to kink and and other fetish content. You and I will never know what it's like to be a werewolf and transform under the full moon into the form of a big hulking furry beast. However, us furries create art and other works about the idea of it anyway. We never will be able to be our fursonas -- our often idealized and "perfect" versions of ourselves -- and part of that really hurts. It hurts so bad honestly, to the point where I can't quite put it into words. In terms of queer culture, I will never know what it is like to be a cis woman, and that also messes with me a lot. Yet, I'm still trans, my identity can change, I can perceive myself as whatever I damn well please. Identity allows you to shape yourself and the world around you in your own image, even if not everyone can see its beauty.

We have ways to get at least somewhat close to how we feel in our abstraction. VRChat allows you to make an avatar of what ever you want, whether it's your fursona or just an ideal version of you. Hell, it doesn't even have to be you, it could be anyone or anything really. We have a whole industry based around creating big ass costumes that allow people to at least look something like their desired character. But it's not enough. It's never enough. I ain't religious, but sometimes I feel like I've bitten the apple, been kicked out of the garden, and now I'm left to fend for myself with an identity that my physicality will never match. When I made my fursona using an avatar base in vrchat and configured it to match my real world body scales and looked down, I honestly started crying. I take the headset off, and I'm still me. Everyone takes the headset or fursuit off and they're still the body they were given, not what they would choose. Our reality is objective, and there's no way to really change that. We can act like animal people online all day, but the moment that screen shuts off, the moment we walk away, that warm, fuzzy feeling (hehe) fades.

To think abstract is to think beyond what you can normally sense. You will never get to brush the knots out of your fur in the morning, or play with your antennae while anxious (I see you bug people). We can still have those ideas, however. I know I'm on the third goddamn paragraph and I'm just now talking about the artwork I linked but this is an important concept to me. Usually, when I think of the abstract, it feels unreal, "fuzzy" so to speak. However, in HearthFox's piece, the objective reality appears out of focus and pixelated. It feels like even if we are unable to fully embrace the abstract, we can still embrace what we can of it, and bring some sort of color to a world that doesn't feel like it is made for us. The colors being outside of the lines could suggest that our abstract perception is maybe just "painted on" to the world around us, but is that a bad thing? Is it bad to take things in from the world around you, but still look at it all in your own unique way? I think not. This also isn't only about therian identity, or furry identity, or even queer identity -- it's also about neurodivergence. You are never in the wrong for thinking about the world in a way that is viewed as "non-standard" by the rest of the world. If you see yourself as a wolf, bee, fox, bear, raccoon, a fucking plane, it's not a bad thing. We can still identify however we want, and this modern way of looking at identity is the best way for us to embrace the abstract.

Go wild, go fucking stupid. Love yourself, if you're a fox, be a fox, there are ways you can feel that way, even if it's not all of the time. We can fight, we can love, we can still find ways to elation, even if sometimes existence itself feels wrong to you. This work is but one side of abstract thinking. Look at the color the fox has compared to the objective. Look how the fur drapes, how it runs down the body, or how the snout expresses emotion. Sometimes it feels melancholic, but you cannot tell me that trying your absolute damnedest to live your identity doesn't at least bring some color to your otherwise dreary and unfocused world.

Stay safe, love yourself no matter what.