body horror meme

[lolk]

WARNING -- POSSIBLE TRIGGERS (violence, pain, parasites, zombies, etc)

body horror meme


Something's gone wrong. Maybe it was a little parasite, wiggling under your skin. Maybe something bit you that one night in the woods. Maybe someone decided they didn't like you and placed a curse on you, or maybe the local psychotic AI decided she liked you and filled you full of nanites. In any case, you're changing, body and soul. There's no way to stop it. No way to reverse it. And above all, it's the most painful thing you've ever experienced...

HOW IT WORKS:
- Tag the meme, leaving your character name, fandom, and any preferences in the subject line
- Other character tags you
- You tag back, and use the random number generator to select from the following options. Or don't, and do whatever strikes your fancy. If you roll something your character already is, either roll again, go for human, or pick something that otherwise suits your fancy.
- Other character reacts, or is free to also roll on the table
- Play out the results.
- Have fun, but respect the preferences of others.

1. Water-dwelling. You're growing gills, or your skin is turning translucent, or you're sprouting fins, or maybe you're outright turning into some form of sea life. It doesn't matter what you're turning into – what does matter is that you're slowly losing the ability to breathe air, and there's no water in sight...

2. Animal. Something bit you, and you're turning into an animal. Your bones lengthen or perhaps shrink, break, twist, and reform, your teeth lengthen or shorten, and above all, you feel your instincts being overridden. Your senses sharpen; you notice smells you never did before, your vision becomes more sensitive to movement. If you're a predator? Man, these people look mighty tasty. Prey? OHGOD, EVERYTHING IS TERRIFYING. Lizard? Enjoy your new inability to regulate body temperature. Bird? Have fun with the whole beak and hollowing bones. And don't even get us started on insects and arachnids...

3. Parasitic Something's inside you, and it's changing you from within, chewing up your insides and altering your thoughts. You're not sure how much longer you're going to be you, and when the parasite's going to take over completely...

4. Demonic You've been meddling with dark powers beyond the ken of mortal man, and it seems you've accidentally sold your soul. Will you be the traditional kind of demon, horns and hooves, or something far more terrifying and ineffable?

5. Undead: No doubt about it, you're dying, but as you are, something's been altered in you. Maybe you're becoming a vampire – and not the fun kind, either, we're talking ugly, ravenous, and mad. Maybe you're a zombie, or a ghoul, and human flesh looks mighty tasty. Or maybe you're just turning into a ghost bent on vengeance. In any case, death is never fun.

6. Cybernetic Get captured by the Borg? Strapped to an operating table? Injected with nanites? Whatever happened to you, you're slowly turning into something half man, half machine, your squishy bits being replaced by mechanical components.

7. Lovecraftian You've heard their song, the terrors from beyond the stars, and even now they sing in your blood as your flesh transmutes into something ineffable and unknowable. You revel in the pain you feel even as you seek to spread it, to herald the end of all things... or maybe worse, you're aware of the transition as your mind becomes not your own.

8. Fusion/Hivemind You begin to fuse with the first person who tagged you – physically, mentally, or both. Soon, you can't tell who is who, which one of you is the real you, as your thoughts become one. Join in the fleshsong, mortal...

9. Inanimate Your body slowly petrifies and hardens, turning to stone, wood, glass, or something stranger still; or perhaps you liquefy, turning to some kind of liquid, or maybe you dissolve into the air itself.

10. Wildcard / pick your own Pick whatever you like, combine a few options, or make up your own.

Meme originally posted by teal_deer.

Comments

[chainedraven]

I said move!

[Gilbert lunges forward, allowing his coat to fall unheeded to the floor as he crosses the few feet separating them far faster than he should have been able to. He'd intended to— well, he wasn't quite clear on the original plan, perhaps push Vincent aside and be out the door before he could be stopped, but it certainly isn't what happens.

The hand he'd meant to push turns to grasp and hold instead, to capture Vincent's shoulder as Gilbert halts bare inches away, trembling with the inward struggle between hatred and hunger, shame and need. He can feel his teeth lengthening again, growing sharper in preparation to meet flesh, but he closes his eyes and refuses to look, halfway hoping that if he cannot see his brother then he can... move on. Somehow.]

I can't let myself... hurt you again.

[laceratings]

And I can't let you leave me. I can't let you walk out of here and disappear.

[ gilbert may be looking away, but vincent's gaze it pointed and unswaying, boring into the side of his brother's face with fiery intensity. gilbert's grip is strong, inhumanly strong, painfully strong, but vincent stands it, stand against his brother's new power fearlessly. ]

So you can see that we are at an impasse. Kill me, if you will, but I'm not letting you go.

[chainedraven]

["Kill me."

"Kill me."

The words echo in Gilbert's mind, louder and stronger and almost drowning out the roaring in his ears. He can't, he can't kill him— kill Vincent? No. Never.

And yet when he tries to release his grip, to push his brother away again (he's weakened already, what could he do to resist?) he— can't. Nothing happens, he cannot move or think or do what he knows he must.

Gilbert shudders once, violently, shaking Vincent in turn, and allows his head to droop.]

How can you help me?

[laceratings]

[ vincent releases a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. this standoff was really a bluff and nothing more - how could he possibly stand up to gil? he could use dormouse, perhaps, to put him to sleep, but there's no way he would ever be fast enough, not with gil's new .. enhancements.

and utilizing demios is .. out of the question. for several, obvious reasons.

regardless, he has no real power over gilbert, and if his brother chose to use force he would be helpless. but the bluff took root, it seems - at least for the moment. vincent's shoulders sag; he suddenly feels very tired, but there's work to be done. ]

.. you can drink from me, when you need to. And I will.. procure others, if need be. I'm sure Echo will volunteer without question.

[ whether she likes it or not. ]

You don't have many other options, big brother.

[chainedraven]

[When he needs to? When he needs to is, so far, always. And that would lead only to Vincent's death and— no. No, that isn't an option, even if others are, to use the word already chosen, "procured" to feed him.

Gilbert gives a soft, gagging cough, more from memory of nausea than any real sensation of it: he should be feeling sick at the idea of draining others to keep himself alive, or in some semblance of life, and so he does. Distantly, vaguely, but most of his disgust is purely mental.]

...you could kill me.

[But still he cannot open his eyes again, even as he whispers the suggestion. Gilbert can guess how Vincent will react to it, and doesn't look, doesn't move away. Neither does he move closer, though, which is taking much of his will for the moment.]

[laceratings]

[ vincent .. isn't surprised, but hearing gilbert say it aloud still makes his blood run cold. without thought, vincent's arms close over his middle, hugging himself tightly, his fingernails digging deeply into his upper arms.

kill him? how could he possibly? the very idea of taking gilbert's life with his own hands..

no. vincent could maim and torture perfect strangers or even old acquaintances, he could kill thoughtlessly and ruthlessly, but the idea of harming his big brother is enough to make his stomach turn. gil is the only person he lives for. ]

I..

[ it's a sound idea, really. vincent knows gilbert well enough to realize that he could never survive if it meant taking other peoples' lives - he simply doesn't have it in him. he never has, and he never will. ]

Is that what you want from me, big brother?

[chainedraven]

Look at me, Vincent.

[Gilbert's voice is abruptly harsh, laden with anger and self-loathing; even asking is repugnant, but if Vincent refuses to let him leave and end this false existence quietly, then he has little other choice. He cannot let this continue, can not let others pay the price for him.

How could he possibly go back to the others like this? How could he face Pandora— Break, or Sharon? Or... or Oz, when he's become a monster as bad as the Chains and contractors he's hunted himself. Better that no one knows what has happened, before anything more can happen.

He slowly lifts his head again, eyes opening as his mouth twists into a pained grimace.]

I've already died.

[laceratings]

[ a cold, heavy rock drops into the pit of his stomach.

this will be .. messy.

on top of these strange new enhancements, the fact that gil is, in fact, a baskerville, only further complicates matters. gilbert may not be aware of it, but vincent is, vincent remembers, he keeps this awful secret close to his heart. killing his big brother will be no easy task.

but it is possible.

vincent swallows dryly, then drops one hand and slides it over the door, sliding the silver lock shut with a definitive click. ]

.. all right. For you, big brother.

[ and, perhaps, for me. ]

[chainedraven]

[From somewhere Gilbert finds the strength to straighten again, to draw back slowly and deliberately and set his shoulders to carry this last burden of guilt. It is a terrible thing he asks of Vincent, he knows, and yet somehow the knowledge that it is the last of his sins makes it feel lighter. Bearable, even as it twists his heart.

There is no apology that he can give, no words adequate to express his deep regret and equal gratitude, but as he stands... he smiles. He is ready.]

Thank you.

Little brother.

[laceratings]

[ he may be ready, but vincent certainly isn't. then again, he never could be. not for this. how did this happen? how did it come to be? his plans, they're all in ruins..

.. but in the end, he is achieving the same goal, more or less. this way, gil will not suffer, he will no longer feel pain or guilt or crushing self hate, but still.. this is not how it was meant to be. vincent's hands are shaking as he draws the scissors from within his sleeve, steps closer and opens them. the silver blades glint in the dim light, wickedly sharp. ]

.. I love you, big brother.

[ nothing hurts like this. nothing has ever hurt so badly. his soul feels twisted and torn, but he strikes out nonetheless, quick as a snake, slicing gilbert's throat quickly and cleanly and without hesitation, because if he hesitates he will never move forward. but before gilbert can fall, vincent snaps his free hand out to grasp his precious brother's chin so he can quickly, deftly slice the opposite side of his throat and god, is that awful, tormented sound really coming from him? vincent can hear it in his ears, his own cry, the twisted sound of an animal in pain. ]

[chainedraven]

[The cut is swift enough, the blade sharp enough, that it almost doesn't occur to Gilbert to even feel pain at first, not until he feels the rush of warm liquid and his newly-preternatural senses are assailed with the smell of fresh blood. His blood.

Vincent knows his work quite well, though, and when the shock of pain strikes it comes with an onrushing tide of black that inexorably sweeps him away. The scream, the sound of pure torment inflicted by him tugs briefly at him but he cannot muster the strength to reach out to his brother and somehow— reassure, thank, soothe the pain he cannot heal; one hand lifts just a fraction, an almost convulsive twitch toward Vincent, and then drops as he sags like a string-cut puppet, the light of false life fading from his eyes.

And he is free.]

[laceratings]

[ his brother's warm blood spatters his face, and vincent gasps, the scissors falling from his hands and clattering noiselessly onto the plush carpet.

he stands, still as a statue, even as gil's hand twitches toward him, even as his brother collapses like a marionette onto the floor at his feet. his blood, red and vivid, pools onto the fine oriental rug, a creeping, widening stain. the sharp scent of it is in the air, and vincent is vaulted back in time - back to the bodies, the blood, so many people, so much death, so much horror..

no. vincent gasps and grasps at his face with his hands. there's work to be done. those baskerville genes will soon begin to work their magic; vincent has to make sure that his big brother's wish is carried out. kneeling on the floor, he gathers his brother's body into his arms and holds him close, pressing his face into his hair, breathing in his familiar scent. his vision is blurred - is he crying? he can't be sure. and it doesn't matter. silently, vincent reaches for the scissors and begins his work.

it takes .. twenty minutes, perhaps, before he has finished, before gil's still and bloody heart is in his hands, cut away from the lifeless husk sprawled on the floor. vincent cradles it to his chest, his brother's blood slick and cooling on his hands, before rising to unsteady feet and moving to place it in the fire. he has to wait, to watch, to make sure all of it is burned away before stepping back, before feeling sure that his work is finished.

and after that? well, it's a simple matter of finding gilbert's revolver, still tucked neatly into the holster at his thigh. he only needs a moment to say goodbye, to lean in and press a kiss to his precious brother's forehead, before he leans back and cocks the revolver, swallows the barrel of the pistol, and pulls the trigger with quick, unflinching resolve. ]