#ergotposting

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Der letzte Ast am faulen Stamm

Even features of the natural world are a perverted reflection of violence committed which makes my job as an artist easier but also makes driving past a field of wheat existentially horrifying, so I guess you win some you lose some. I get to inflict that psychological reality onto Ludwig though so in the end I always come out on top

When I started drawing for this fandom again I didn't expect Evil Plants to become my gimmick but I'm not complaining

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Functionally speaking nothing that happened to that body before Ludwig was in it concerns him but purely on an emotional level, it got buried and dug up and cut open and sewn shut again and at least one person handled those organs before they started working again and it's never going to belong to him the way other people's bodies belong to them but it doesn't really matter because it's the same thing as being born normally except in all the ways that it isn't. And it's really sort of horrifying and Gilbert did something bad, but not to him, just to the body that he's in now, and Ludwig only started being Ludwig once the bad thing was over so nothing bad happened to him. So?

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Besser K-Brot als kein Brot!

Happy fun times

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The only Holy Rome memory Ludwig ever has is the chibitalia one in san valentino but I do occasionally like to indulge myself and imagine him dreaming of a peaceful and quiet grave while in the trenches and of all the nice flowers people brought and then he wakes up and fantasizes of how wonderful it must be to be gone forever and for no one to be able to ask for anything and then he takes his spade and starts digging and digging and digging and throws up somewhere

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I think in the interwar period he develops a substance abuse issue (gets put on opiates for neurasthenia and starts drinking) that turns into full-on addiction (meth and alcohol) during the war and then doesn't really get much better afterwards but it's fiiiine it's alright. The army doesn't stock amphetamimes anymore so that's basically the same as having fixed the issue

"The Bundestag is an unbelievable congregation of alcoholics that, entirely ordinarily, reeks of schnapps."

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Mother of Grain — Ergot, Ignis Sacer, Das Mutterkorn.

This is sort of a companion piece, sort of a spiritual opposite to Trogoautoegocrat. I've much less to say about this one, it contains imagery I've used in other places before.

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This is meant to be a nightmare sequence, though I have also been pondering an AU where I send him to a farm like he's a sick dog.

This is basically just about the circumstances of his existence again, this time less about his literal birth and more about how he's maladapted. War trauma, autism, he was born a teenager and grew up quickly for a nation, to humans he acts like an old man but looks young, he's emotionally disconnected but not detached enough to not care, he doesn't understand other people and other people either don't understand him or understand so well that they're threats, he holds on to army habits and routines and rules that mostly just inhibit his attempts at change, and he does that for comfort as much as he does that to keep functioning. The progress he makes as an individual is so incremental that it might as well be like the world is passing him by while he tries to fix the unfixable; maybe he needs to unravel at some point, but then who's gonna do his job?

Anyways. Put him in a trench, knock him over the head thrice, send him to work as a farmhand and that's an AU for you. The birth defect the calf is pictured with is called schistosoma reflexum; it's a real thing I can subject him to.

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Full picture below, including animal death and gore !!

So. Fetal defects

Couldn't decide which saturation level to post this at 🫣