Body Horro Tw - Blog Posts

I decided to create som AI generated art for the DSMP. Here’s some of the ones I like the best.

Amazing, you hit my interest boxes 💖 👏🏻

in the eye of the beholder (portgas d. ace x reader)

req: You wanted an Ace request? 👀

How about Ace with a zoan mythical devil fruit reader that never really changes into their devil fruit form or variables of it because she felt like it would scare them or something, but when Ace is near death, the reader comes in full force and saves him

I don't know what type the zoan will be, but can you have it be a big creature like a dragon? I just love the trope of a person going ape shit for their beloved/crush

a/n: omg i love that trope too ;;0;; i love any trope that involves one person losing control in order to protect someone else dat shit Hits also oops i think i got a bit overenthusiastic with the descriptions of reader’s body changing so i hope it’s not too much for anyone :0 !

ALSO MORE ACE REQUESTS PLS AND THANK U MUAH

contents: somewhat gory descriptions of bodily harm(? but nothing too gross i don’t think), some angst, fluff, hurt/comfort!!

wc. 1.8k

wanna be on my taglist?

despite being your boyfriend for nearly two years now, Ace still doesn’t know what your full Zoan form looks like. he knows you have the Dragon variant of Devil Fruit but that’s pretty much the full extent of his knowledge, aside from the rare occasion you use your hybrid form to fly but even during those moments you move so fast his eyes can barely keep up

Ace would be lying if he said he wasn’t a tiny bit upset he’s never seen your full form–back when he was a fresh member of the crew he’d even pestered you quite a bit in hopes you’ll cave in and show him–but he understands why you’re hesitant to use it

“you do know it hurts her, right?” Thatch said out of the blue one day when Ace had nothing better to do and decided to watch him cook to kill time. 

“what does?” the second division commander replied through a mouthful of bread.

“transforming into her Zoan form,” the head chef continued. “i’ve seen it myself only twice but both times it was kind of hard to watch.” 

the more Ace listened to Thatch’s descriptions of the sounds of your bones cracking and flesh tearing as your human screams gradually turned into monsterish roars that shook the very earth, the more guilty he felt for all the times he’d asked you to show him. he’d seen Marco transform so many times, he ignorantly assumed the process was just as easy and painless for you. 

“the last time she did it,” Thatch added, “she scared some civilians by accident and they got hurt trying to run away. i think that fucked her up a bit for quite a while.”

it’s safe to say, he stopped asking you to transform after that. though the suddenness of it all surprised you, it was nice being able to hang out with him without worrying about being asked to show your Zoan form. a few months afterwards, you even end up dating him–something your past self never would have considered

Ace still is very interested in what your full form looks like but he can see himself spending the rest of his life with you so he’s sure he’ll see it one day–and soon he learns he’s right, he just never thought it would be under such dire circumstances

for the first time in a long time, Ace finds himself panicking on the battlefield. his heart pounds painfully against his ribcage and no matter how much air he tries to inhale, his lungs are constantly begging for more air. Ace’s vision blurs but he refuses to lose consciousness, blinking rapidly to clear his sight as he stares down at his blood soaked hands.

he’s not wounded, though. you are.

lying on the dirt in front of him as the two of you take cover behind an abandoned cottage, you gasp for air as fresh blood slowly pools beneath you; the red, hot substance pouring out from the bullet wounds in your torso and legs.

what was supposed to be a simple recon mission turned out to be an ambush by the marines. 

“stay awake, you hear me?” Ace shouts as he tilts your head to look at him, staining your cheek with your own blood from his hands. “give me one minute and i’ll be back. i just need a minute and we’ll be safe, okay?” his words are confident and firm, in stark contrast to his teary eyes and trembling hands; but you trust him with your life so you simply nod.

from where you lay, you can see most of the battlefield. you watch as he burns down the endless waves of marines almost effortlessly, like he always does, and you nearly break your promise as you’re nearly lulled to sleep by the familiar sense of security he brings you. in fact, you’re on the brink of dozing off when you’re startled awake by the sound of Ace screaming.

your eyes snap open as you frantically scan the area, bile rising up your throat as you struggle to find Ace. when you do finally see him, it takes all of your willpower not to puke out of fear.

at the feet of what looks like a Vice Admiral, he lies near-motionless, the only sign of life being the faint rise and fall of his chest and the hacking cough that tears its way out of his blood-filled mouth. the Marine orders his remaining soldiers to fall back and to “leave them to me.” with a sadistic smile painted on his face. he speaks to Ace briefly though you’re unable to catch what he’s saying and then, with a haki-imbued kick, he sends your lover flying across the battlefield in your direction.

wheezing and coughing as tears drip down his grimacing face, Ace reaches out to you with a trembling, blood-covered hand. his fingers brush against your own tear-stained face and with all the remaining strength left within him, he smiles at you.

“i… i’ll protect you… no matter what.” he mutters as you watch the Vice Admiral close the distance, taking step after step towards the back of your lover.

it’s in the moments that follow does Ace learn that Thatch’s description of your Zoan transformation did little justice to the real thing.

he watches helplessly as you begin to scream while you lift your upper body off the ground and at first he thinks it’s from the pain from your wounds but once your skin starts to turn into scales, he realises it’s so much worse. as your body grows in size, your limbs crack and shift and massive wings sprout out of your spine. your head’s tossed back as you shriek to the heavens while your eyes turn a golden yellow and your pupil transforms into a slit.

the ground trembles as your voice transforms into a deep roar that shakes even the faraway trees of the surrounding forest. too wounded to turn himself around, Ace can only guess the looks of terror on the marines’ faces from the sound of their panicked shouting and uncoordinated gunfire. he watches in awe as the bullets that reach your body fall uselessly to the ground.

Ace feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as his instincts scream at him to get away from the looming threat still approaching him from the back. under normal circumstances, he’s sure he’ll be able to get away from the Vice Admiral through sheer willpower alone, escaping death is nothing new to the young man–right now, though, he knows he’s safe when you lower one of your massive wings to shield him from the rest of the world.

he listens as the cries for mercy gradually die down into a peaceful silence composed of the evening wind, insects chirping and the crackling of small fires that are soon to fizzle out. although Ace can tell he’s not fatally wounded, his body hurts to the point where it feels hard to move–arrogance always was the achilles heel of logia users. 

the setting sun shines on him once more as your wing retracts while you slowly transform back to normal. he calls out your name but you don’t respond and for a moment, he feels the same sense of panic from before rising up in his chest. his poor heart only settles once he has your unconscious body cradled in his tired arms. you’re still badly wounded but your chest rises and falls steadily as you rest in his embrace.

Marco finds the second division commander and the Whitebeard Dragon asleep in each other's arms surrounded by nearly hundreds of dead marines, all burnt to a crisp. though most would naturally assume Firefist Ace was the main culprit, Marco suspects–just by looking at the faint scaly pattern still lingering on your skin–that you might have done all the work this time

Ace wakes up first, not in an infirmary bed like he thought he would but still on the battlefield, face-to-face with his close friend who’s leaning over to pull you out of Ace’s arms. it takes both men a second to realise the true extent of his protectiveness over you; and it takes another second before Marco starts making fun of the younger man for being so whipped

it takes a long time for you to wake up even after Marco uses his Devil Fruit abilities to help heal most of your wounds. “it takes a bigger toll on her than normal Zoan Devil Fruit transformations would,” the doctor had explained to a distraught Ace, “her body goes through a lot to become something so massive, y’know?”

being patient was never Ace’s strong suit but he has zero complaints while waiting for you to wake up. for weeks he stays by your bedside, talking to you about his day, playing with your hands, and taking naps whilst curled up by your feet. the other crew members who come in to check on you daily constantly poke fun at him and yet it’s these same people who leave snacks, drinks and comics for him to use while waiting by your side.

almost a full month passes by before you wake up to the feeling of something warm and heavy resting on your chest; and moments later, Ace is roused from his nap when he feels your fingers brushing through his hair.

“hey,” he whispers, head still resting in the valley of your breasts, tilted up just enough for his eyes to meet yours. his legs are tangled with yours as the infirmary bed blanket lays uselessly on the floor.

“hey,” you reply, voice hoarse from the dryness of your throat.

“you’re really cool,” Ace says, eyelids forming into crescents as he smiles–the simple expression almost infectious in the way you feel the corners of your own lips tugging upwards in spite of being reminded about the sheer agony of your Zoan transformation.

“it must’ve been shocking, huh?” you ask, “watching me transform? i’ve heard some people say it’s gross and scary–”

“no!” he cuts you off, eyebrows furrowing, “it was amazing.” Ace runs his warm fingers up and down your bare arms before trailing downward to meet your hands, all the while staying laid on top of you with his eyes locked onto your own. “you were amazing. i’d never felt safer in my life.”

you can’t help but sniffle as you feel your eyes begin to burn with tears. “it wasn’t disgusting? i… wasn’t disgusting?” shaking his head, Ace inches forward until the tip of his nose brushes against yours.

“you were beautiful,” he murmurs, “you are so beautiful.” 

gen taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost @hyper-fic-ation @dressycobra7 @38lyra38 @chaseyui @paraparakiss @krooschl @teewon @olliesoxenfree @misstraffy @riftmage27 @aletch

🧿INSIDE 🧿

👁OUTSIDE👁

of bodily experiences

Going back Memory Lane, Ever since Ib got its remade version, been going back to the RPG Horror Game world, including The Crooked Man (and yes I simp for his human version, Sue me!)

I’ve never posted my ocs before but here’s some of them

This is Julius as a kid. I actually have his name as most of my usernames. JuliusDeklein is a pun on his name, Julius Klein (My tumblr is the only one that’s LewisDeklein.)

This is Ernest Royly and Matt Janes. Love them

!TW: Undercut contains art with body horror!!

This is Julius all grown up! Ok jokes aside his character does get a lot more darker as he progresses but he gets better (don’t worry he doesn’t rip out his organs in the story this was just an experimental drawing.) I’d love to publish some sort of novel or comic about him. I’d say I want to dissect him like a frog but he’s my own cousin I’ve basically already done that. The funny thing is when I made my ocs years ago Julius wasn’t even the main character. He only showed up about a year after I started making the original story lol.

Happy October first :^3

I decided to try my hand at inktoder!

Prompert: dream

To dream of what Could have deen

At first I did her in color but I thought more black and gray was more ink

Dainn?? More like DAAANG WTH BRO

Patient Zero

A goretober post meant for last year's goretober using 3 OCs of mine.

TW // worms, mentions of surgery, gore, body horror.

● Ezekiel  —  It's been a few days since I've gotten my brain surgery. The doctors say it was a success and I'll make a full recovery. They didn't tell me about the side effects though.

Sometimes I'll hear a strange squirming sound, like someone chewing openly into a microphone. I've told my doctor and he says it's probably my brain hard at work to make up for whatever procedure they had done. He told me it would pass.

I believe him.

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It's been a few months now and the sounds have gone away. I'm at my happiest now, making a full recovery from the surgery and living my life to the fullest.

But recently the noises have come back. They've become louder than last time, now a constant sound in my ear. I try to hide how it affects my daily life but I can't help the disgust that crosses my face. It's causing me trouble at work, I'm trying my best to correct it.

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It's been a few weeks since they began again. I've lost my job, too many incidents and complaints from customers.

My few friends have dwindled to one after I've complained about the noises to them. They think I'm crazy and I can't say I blame them.

I haven't left the house in days; the noises are louder than ever and driving me up the wall.

I'm sure I've gotten texts and phone calls, but the sounds are muffled in comparison to the wet, squirming noises in my head.

It's gotten to the point where I've taken to scratching at my ear, using whatever I can to reach deeper and deeper into my ears. My fingers, forks, knives. The best working so far has been the steel rat tail comb I own. It always comes out bloody but the noises have lessened.

But so has my hearing.

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I didn't hear the worm when the first one fell, but I felt it.

It was two in the morning. Another sleepless night from the noises.

I had been laying on my side when there was a wet squelch from my ear and it felt as though something had slipped out. A shudder of disgust ran through me and it shifted to horror when I sat up to see what it had been.

A worm the length of my middle finger rested where my ear had been, squirming in a puddle of my blood.

Bile crawled up my throat but was swallowed down to clean up the mess.

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The next worm to be found was another feeling.

There was a strange itch in my eye. I thought it was simply an eyelash but when looking in the mirror, I saw the writhing of something beneath my eyelid.

Tugging the skin down only confirmed the feeling of dread steadily growing like a pit in my chest. I took to my eye with tweezers, noticing the end sticking out just below my line of vision.

Familiar bile made my mouth fill with spit as I snagged onto the wriggling end of the worm. It was a struggle to pull out, pain blooming in both eye and flesh as the worm seemed to squirm and try to dig in deeper. With a quiet grunt, the worm was pulled free by a wet pop and drawn blood.

This time, I was unable to hold back the vomit as I washed the worm down the drain.

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For a time, the noises stopped. I assumed it was finally gone by the worms that I had been almost religiously removing from my body.

My hearing was shot and my vision going but I allowed myself that sense of peace, paranoia ebbing away little by little until I was almost positive the situation was done and over.

Days passed and my unease was gone completely, but I still had yet to return to the outside world. I had an affinity to the dark now, and often stayed in the bath with the lights off.

I don't know when or why it began, but it seemed to satisfy something deep within me. But that's when the whispers began.

They tormented me for days, but they weren't as bad as the noises. They were tolerable.

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I woke up in a sweat, choking on any cries I made from the pain coursing through me. It was full body and it felt as though something was crawling beneath my skin as if I were a beehive.

The voices were louder, too loud. They drowned out any noises that could have been heard.

Someone was screaming. It was distant.

Bile filled my throat before I was vomiting, finding myself hunched over the toilet.

When did I get here?

The sight of it only made me vomit again.

Writhing in the mass of blood and stomach acid were worms, too many to be less than a hundred.

In the bathroom light, the pain only worsened to the point I was nearly numb, but the sight of my skin was enough for me to empty my stomach into the steadily overflowing toilet again.

Beneath my flesh were worms. Hundreds, thousands, maybe even millions. All writhing and rolling over one another as if I was rich dirt ripe with nutrients.

The screaming grew louder, penetrating what little hearing I had left and seemingly sending the worms into a frenzy.

It hurt.

It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. Ithurt. Ithurtithurtithurtithurtithurtithurtithurt.

Pain tore at my skin, blooming in liquid red and purple. Nails clawed and clawed, trying to tear the parasites from beneath my flesh as if it would help.

Somehow I made it to my living room. More screaming. More tearing. More pain.

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● Enzo  —  It had been days since I had last seen Ezekiel.

They hadn't shown up for any of the events nor returned any of my calls or texts and I was starting to grow worried. Especially after their numerous complaints of hearing noises.

Our friends slowly abandoned him but Enkai and I stayed, attempting to ease their mind when we could.

I was removed from my thoughts by walking into his apartment door, grunting at the pain in my nose before I was knocking, calling for my friend.

There was no response, but their location showed they were home. A pit of dread filled my stomach as I tried to think up possible reasons for the lack of response.

My hand brushed at the extra key in my pocket that Ezekiel had given to Enkai and I after a bad decline in their health. I made no hesitation to open the door, flinching a little at the smell that seemed to leave it.

I retched, free hand covering my mouth as if to stop the penetrating smell of death and rotting flesh as I shut the door behind me.

“Ezekiel? Are you here?”

There was no response.

“You haven't responded to any of my texts or calls for a while, I was starting to worry.”

The stench seemed to get worse as I traveled further, and there was a strange wet, squelching sound from somewhere further into the room.

I hadn't thought to turn on the light when I stepped into the living room, but now my hand blindly reached and flailed to hit the light switch.

A hiss met me when the light flooded the room and the sight soon enough had me hunched over, vomiting onto the ruined floor.

Ezekiel, my friend, stood—no, floated—above the floor, held in place by a thick substance similar to gum that spread out behind them like butterfly wings, attached to the walls and ceiling. They were spread in fashion similar to being pinned to the cross.

A fleshy mound was attached to their back in fashion similar to a cocoon. Flesh was rotting, some of it torn and the bone stripped bare and I could see the tendons and veins hanging limply from holes torn into their skin. A whole leg was missing. Holes littered Ezekiel's stomach and I could see through it to the other side, surrounded by peeling back flesh and organs spilling onto the floor.

But that hadn't been the worst part.

Ezekiel was staring at me. Where their flesh wasn't being ravaged by decay, worms crawled in and out like maggots, falling to the ground in piles upon piles that nearly covered the entirety of the floor. Half of their face was stripped, revealing the skull beneath, but the top of their head was completely gone, exposing their brain crawling with the creatures tearing them apart.

But they were still alive. They were still alive and they were staring.

A mass of blood and worms fell from their mouth as it opened, and what was left of their voice box let out a scratchy groan.

“Turn off the lights. They like the dark.”

And this is Sloth, TW for Gore and body horror.

(They/It)

A while ago me and my mutals started a project of the 7 deadly sins. I think we still have one left. But I figured I'd post my 2.

This is Greed (She/Her)

Scopophobia/ Ommetaphobia Warning! Trypophobia warning!

Another drawing I started before I moved. But they're done now, this is my Alicorn experiment oc, from @captainzigo 's Equestria Civil War AU.

Void is an amalgamation of Celestia, Luna, Twilight, Cadence, Flurry Heart, and Chrysalis.

(It/They/Void)

ID in alt text and under the cut.

Image one. Start ID. A mlp oc with many eyes, many wings, and many horns. Two horns serve as ears, and two as fangs. Its hair is pitch black and full of watching eyes. Void has 3 wings of different colors on their back (white, navy, purple) and two small wings on each leg. It's cutiemark is an amalgamation of different mlp princess cutiemarks. Void is facing to the left. End ID.

Image two. Start ID. A mlp oc with many eyes, many wings, and many horns. Two horns serve as ears, and two as fangs. Voids' hair is pitch black and full of watching eyes. It has 3 wings of different colors on their back (white into pink, pink into purple, and an insectoid wing) and two small wings on each leg. Void's cutiemark is an amalgamation of different mlp princess cutiemarks. They are facing to the right. End ID.

I rarely post drawings of my ocs, but I was doing some practice sketching and I’m really proud of this one! (Say hi to Anthony, and also sorry to anyone named Anthony /lh)

Don’t worry he’s fine…..I think…….probably not…..

Dumb meme.

Also, if I were to make an ask with these ocs, would you or would you not participate? I’m genuinely curious.