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Description
Commission for my dear friend RoscoTf <3

this is an illustration for his tf story:
__________________
When you have Eldritchian transformative powers, you quickly find yourself only concerned with
breaking limitations.
Tasha had never really known where her powers had come from. They had only magically
appeared during her time in college. The first time it happened was during netflix time with her
freshman year boyfriend. She could still recall the discussion they were having that day; stroking
lightly through his soft, short hair as she reminisced about her cat, Melon, who she had left at
home with her parents (to great heartbreak). Tasha could still picture that first sensation, feeling
the hair beneath her fingers shrink further into a condensing skull, nails scratching scruffy fur
that coated the humanoid feline’s fuzzy coat, soft, helpless words regressing into meows as a
whipping tail left the magical girl undeterred from seeing her beloved kitty again, right there and
then.
She looked over to her collection, two or three cats lay silently in a pile of stuffed animals, all of
whom had once been an enthralled guy, sputtering for words as their mouth either puffed and
upturned into a cat’s muzzle, or sewed itself shut in a simple, plushy smile. Hands bloating,
clothes ripping, speech failing, body betraying, she had seen it all. After a while, it becomes
boring.
If she wanted food, she needn’t leave but only grab a boy that wanders to her front door and eat
the part of him that she turns into a sandwich or chips. If she wanted a book, she need only
force the words out of a human voicebox, a bedtime story provided at any hour.
The powers she had also seemed to have strange limitations. She could coerce and bring men
and women to her, making them obsessed with her, eager to do her bidding. She could also
transform someone with the ease of a thought, molding the human form into whatever she
desired. With objects that are not human, things become more difficult. It is almost as if she has
to imagine the human within something in order to bring it to another form; a strange ritual that
she is still getting used to.
The one thing she couldn’t seem to change however, was herself. No matter how hard she
willed her arm to become a sweet treat in the middle of the day, every lick at her limbs always
turned out an embarrassing skin flavor. On a night like tonight, the denim sky and poorly
luminated quad visible through her open window both seemed like particularly opportune
locations for some animalistic fun, but nothing came easily to her.
Tasha had settled it in her mind— she had nothing better to do tonight but to work on this barrier
in her skills, through sheer force and willpower (not like magical research would have helped,
the stuff she read always seemed outdated in regards to her condition). She rose from her bed
and had a cold slice of pizza from the fridge alongside some music, all the while examining
herself in the mirror.
Tasha didn’t know what inspired her outfit today, for she didn’t exactly know what animal she
wanted to become yet, much less if she was planning on going fully feral or not. She chose
cheap clothes: an old cropped baphomet tank top (one of her earliest thrift shop acquisitions), a
dark gray skirt her mom had given to her, and crappy fishnets that she must have worn for
halloween in high school. She didn’t have powers then, did she? Tasha thought back on her
past, but couldn’t recall anything particularly magical, besides her miraculous ability to always
have the most overdone eyeliner in the world.
She stood, awkwardly, in the center of the room, and tried to push magical energy through her
entire body. Looking for a sign of change anywhere on her. Her arms still appeared hairless, her
feet, bipedal, her tailbone, stunted as she strained every muscle. Tasha became bored very
quickly, her mind already drifting to how long it had been since she began. A phone check
confirmed an elapsed time of 7 minutes.
That was when she had remembered, from a spark out of nowhere in her mind, of an item
shoved in the back corner of her closet, saved for a day like today. Once removed from behind a
pile of clothes, a shoddy cardboard cube labeled “Ms. Daisy’s Spirit Animal Candle” revealed
itself and was quickly opened by the grinning girl, who placed it proudly and carefully on the
edge of her windowsill.
She had received the candle from a middle aged woman giving them out on the street. It had
seemed like a nice present, but she was never one to light candles in her dorm room, if that was
even allowed. Now, there seemed not a better time to light it up, which Tasha proceeded with
almost immediately.
It seemed stupid in 7-minute retrospect that she had not decided what animal she wanted to be.
If she really wanted to do this— she thought to herself— she would have to become her spirit
animal, just like the candle said… it smelled wonderful: hints of tropical flavor, plus the essence
of fresh rain.
And what better animal to be than a raven? Tasha had been committing herself to the goth
aesthetic since sophomore year of high school, and it would complete the vibe she had been
trying to reach in a way she imagined would be very cool. Of course, she still wanted to rock the
outfit if she found a way to get photos after changing, so she settled on the image of a hot goth
ravengirl in her mind, stood confidently in front of her bed, inhaled a healthy whiff of Ms. Daisy’s
candle, and began to push again.
As she strained her muscles for the second time, it seemed at first as if the sensation remained
exactly the same as previously, that is, nothing. But then, after a deep breath, she began to feel
a lightness in her innards. A sensation of sand pouring into her body appeared, filling her up and
sloshing around in her as she tensed every limb. She closed her eyes and extended her hands,
trying her hardest to amplify the sensation. Her limbs felt like they were falling asleep and
reawakening simultaneously, loss of sensation only heightening her physical senses, as if every
point of skin was touching itself at the same time. ‘Is this what my victims feel like?’
The truth was, that this was not what Tasha’s victims felt like; it was a completely different type
of magic. Ms. Daisy had been a local witchy troublemaker for over 15 years at this point, but she
worked in spells and objects, rather than whatever it was Tasha had going on. The Spirit Animal
Candle was just that: a candle that unleashes the creature within you. Call it an incredible
coincidence that it fills her body just as she wants to change.
The sensation of transformation washed over her body and mind as Tasha focused hard on the
creature she wished to become. She pictured a raven, sleekly flying through the sky, and tried to
overlay the image of the creature with her human form in her mind’s eye. She bent her legs
slightly to remain relaxed, but was pleasantly suppressed when the bend let out soft cracks of
bone to adjust her posture slightly towards avian sentiments; her first official change.
The woman let herself bob to the full length mirror aside her, letting out soft, pleasured breaths
as she watched her toes grow out against the confines of her fishnets, strands of cheap black
fabric slicing from strain as her toes merged into a clump of three. It felt really good to burst
through clothes, as long as they were unmeaningful. She looked down as her gray talons, which
befit only her feet. She tried to push the changes further visually up her leg, but she couldn’t
seem to continue the transformation with her eyes opened in front of the mirror (the true reason,
of course, being because she was too far away from the fumes of the candle).
After returning to the center of the room, focusing her mind and closing her eyes, she prepared
for the rest of her transformation to take place. Inhaling deep breaths of the tropical scent that
wafted into her nostrils, she felt the sandy tingle return to her insides. She shivered
goosebumps onto her legs as she felt the changes continue up her limbs, pricks and tickles of
hair becoming fat and protruded the more she relaxed into the aroma that surrounded her; her
legs bent slightly at the pure pleasure of feeling a feathery texture coat her skin from the hips
down.
Tasha reached her hands down to her legs, sifting her fingers through the light plumage that
adorned even her thighs. It felt good, but she didn’t want to look and stop the transformation
again. She let her fingers grope at the feathering, urging more growth as her breaths became
quicker and more uncontrolled. It felt sooo good.
Her fingers grew into the places she touched, feeling her digits becoming thinner and more
protruded from a hand and a wrist that felt almost undefined on a rearranging arm. Her hand
grew long, large slabs of feather tickling the back of her skin as she felt more and more
protrusions dance across her left arm, her left arm following suit as fingers slimmed suther into
dainty quills.
She gasped at the sensations, feeling what could only be assumed to be more plumage
emerging from the clumping of her hair, big flat sheets of softness resting on her neck and
collarbone, the tactile experience making her draw even deeper breaths through rearranging
nostrils.
Her nostrils continued to rise on her face with each pleasurable inhalation, as her lips hardened
and clicked together, fattening and growing outwards as they fused with a descending, rounding
nose. She could feel her beak forming in strange ways, each labored breath causing new pieces
of her face to merge in with one another, upper lip becoming indistinguishable from her fat nose,
alltogether creating an avian beak.
She was now gasping for more of the intoxicating aroma, touching at her exposed stomach as
she let more feathers grow on the sides of her torso, letting her tail feather begin to push at the
edge of her skirt— but wait, isn’t a raven’s beak supposed to be longer than that?
Tasha took a few more calculated breaths while feeling at her beak with a prodding wing, but
with disappointment she found it would grow no further. ‘Screw this’ she thought, and opened
her eyes. The first thing she saw was a stunted, curved beak; just beyond it, a bright blue finger
of a quill touching at it.
“Seriously? A parrot?”
The surprise had been revealed to her before the completed punchline. Rather than the sleek
black color palate she had imagined while she had urged on changes behind closed eyes, she
now saw in its place a painfully unsubtle mix of reds, blues, and yellows that adorned the wing
directly in front of her.
Her legs didn’t fare that well either. The limbs she had just been groping with urged anticipation
now presented themselves a vibrant, feathery trunks, adorned with a sheet of red. It offended
her at first, what she saw before her, but as she tried hard to regress her changes into herself,
she found that nothing could urge these feathers back into her skin. It was then that she began
to realize that this change was something out of her control, something greater than herself.
Tasha took deep breaths through a stunted beak that clacked together as she spoke to herself,
feathers coating what skin remained on her body. “Why a parrot, why me… what is causing
this?” She noted the aroma of the candle, but each inhalation only urged further whiffs, a scent
she couldn’t seem to want to extinguish. Her mind raced through the previous 15 minutes, as
her wings grew large and healthily on her body. Arm proportions changed, the largest feathers
only growing larger as they trailed along a revealed stomach, now also adorned with a red coat.
Eventually she arrived at it. It must have been the candle!
She lifted up the candle, reading the label but not extinguishing it. At such a close distance, the
smell was too intoxicating to remove from her beak. The text on the container was simple, just a
title and instructions of a sort— she noted that there were no safety facts, but what could she
expect from an item she received on the street— Enjoy the spiritual scents of Ms. Daisy’s
Spirit Animal Candle! Simply light up in a room, inhale and clear the mind for 5-10
minutes, and let your inner animal take you to the wild side! EFFECTS LAST FOR 10-12
HOURS.
By the time Tasha had finished reading, her transformation had just about completed itself. She
stepped in front of the mirror on the other side of the room, to see a beautiful parrot girl, dressed
in a fashionable and mostly untampered goth fit. Really, could the entire look be considered
goth? Grays and blacks now contrasted heavily with the yellows and blues that lie beside it on
her hefty faux-parrot wings, sharp black fishnets now juxtaposed against a coat of bright red
feathering building against the thin fabric. She turned slightly to the side to see how her tail
feathers lifted her skirt slightly… Tasha was beginning to come around to the whole parrot girl
thing.
Maybe it was just the pleasant aroma that now adorned her room, or just the mental state of a
college student late at night on a Friday, but Tasha was really coming around to her form. The
way her legs bent as she moved left and right in front of the mirror, the way her beak awkwardly
curved into a smile, the way her feathered locks lay even more beautifully on the side of her
head then before; it seemed a parrot might really have been her spirit animal after all. She took
a few cute pics to celebrate.
But she still had time, at least 10 hours to be exact, and ripping holes in her bedsheets with
those talons that had made such light work of her leggings did not seem ideal. Tasha checked
her phone clock— 10:34. The night was young, and she knew of a few human friends who hung
out at a club nearby every night; they would get a kick out of this.
Tasha blew out the candle and turned out the lights. Sitting on the windowsill, looking up at the
stars above, she felt the freest she ever had in her life, and that wasn’t just the candle talking.
‘And my night is just starting’, she thought to herself as she leapt out of the window, falling face
first into the grass below.

Description
Commission for my dear friend RoscoTf <3

this is an illustration for his tf story:
__________________
When you have Eldritchian transformative powers, you quickly find yourself only concerned with
breaking limitations.
Tasha had never really known where her powers had come from. They had only magically
appeared during her time in college. The first time it happened was during netflix time with her
freshman year boyfriend. She could still recall the discussion they were having that day; stroking
lightly through his soft, short hair as she reminisced about her cat, Melon, who she had left at
home with her parents (to great heartbreak). Tasha could still picture that first sensation, feeling
the hair beneath her fingers shrink further into a condensing skull, nails scratching scruffy fur
that coated the humanoid feline’s fuzzy coat, soft, helpless words regressing into meows as a
whipping tail left the magical girl undeterred from seeing her beloved kitty again, right there and
then.
She looked over to her collection, two or three cats lay silently in a pile of stuffed animals, all of
whom had once been an enthralled guy, sputtering for words as their mouth either puffed and
upturned into a cat’s muzzle, or sewed itself shut in a simple, plushy smile. Hands bloating,
clothes ripping, speech failing, body betraying, she had seen it all. After a while, it becomes
boring.
If she wanted food, she needn’t leave but only grab a boy that wanders to her front door and eat
the part of him that she turns into a sandwich or chips. If she wanted a book, she need only
force the words out of a human voicebox, a bedtime story provided at any hour.
The powers she had also seemed to have strange limitations. She could coerce and bring men
and women to her, making them obsessed with her, eager to do her bidding. She could also
transform someone with the ease of a thought, molding the human form into whatever she
desired. With objects that are not human, things become more difficult. It is almost as if she has
to imagine the human within something in order to bring it to another form; a strange ritual that
she is still getting used to.
The one thing she couldn’t seem to change however, was herself. No matter how hard she
willed her arm to become a sweet treat in the middle of the day, every lick at her limbs always
turned out an embarrassing skin flavor. On a night like tonight, the denim sky and poorly
luminated quad visible through her open window both seemed like particularly opportune
locations for some animalistic fun, but nothing came easily to her.
Tasha had settled it in her mind— she had nothing better to do tonight but to work on this barrier
in her skills, through sheer force and willpower (not like magical research would have helped,
the stuff she read always seemed outdated in regards to her condition). She rose from her bed
and had a cold slice of pizza from the fridge alongside some music, all the while examining
herself in the mirror.
Tasha didn’t know what inspired her outfit today, for she didn’t exactly know what animal she
wanted to become yet, much less if she was planning on going fully feral or not. She chose
cheap clothes: an old cropped baphomet tank top (one of her earliest thrift shop acquisitions), a
dark gray skirt her mom had given to her, and crappy fishnets that she must have worn for
halloween in high school. She didn’t have powers then, did she? Tasha thought back on her
past, but couldn’t recall anything particularly magical, besides her miraculous ability to always
have the most overdone eyeliner in the world.
She stood, awkwardly, in the center of the room, and tried to push magical energy through her
entire body. Looking for a sign of change anywhere on her. Her arms still appeared hairless, her
feet, bipedal, her tailbone, stunted as she strained every muscle. Tasha became bored very
quickly, her mind already drifting to how long it had been since she began. A phone check
confirmed an elapsed time of 7 minutes.
That was when she had remembered, from a spark out of nowhere in her mind, of an item
shoved in the back corner of her closet, saved for a day like today. Once removed from behind a
pile of clothes, a shoddy cardboard cube labeled “Ms. Daisy’s Spirit Animal Candle” revealed
itself and was quickly opened by the grinning girl, who placed it proudly and carefully on the
edge of her windowsill.
She had received the candle from a middle aged woman giving them out on the street. It had
seemed like a nice present, but she was never one to light candles in her dorm room, if that was
even allowed. Now, there seemed not a better time to light it up, which Tasha proceeded with
almost immediately.
It seemed stupid in 7-minute retrospect that she had not decided what animal she wanted to be.
If she really wanted to do this— she thought to herself— she would have to become her spirit
animal, just like the candle said… it smelled wonderful: hints of tropical flavor, plus the essence
of fresh rain.
And what better animal to be than a raven? Tasha had been committing herself to the goth
aesthetic since sophomore year of high school, and it would complete the vibe she had been
trying to reach in a way she imagined would be very cool. Of course, she still wanted to rock the
outfit if she found a way to get photos after changing, so she settled on the image of a hot goth
ravengirl in her mind, stood confidently in front of her bed, inhaled a healthy whiff of Ms. Daisy’s
candle, and began to push again.
As she strained her muscles for the second time, it seemed at first as if the sensation remained
exactly the same as previously, that is, nothing. But then, after a deep breath, she began to feel
a lightness in her innards. A sensation of sand pouring into her body appeared, filling her up and
sloshing around in her as she tensed every limb. She closed her eyes and extended her hands,
trying her hardest to amplify the sensation. Her limbs felt like they were falling asleep and
reawakening simultaneously, loss of sensation only heightening her physical senses, as if every
point of skin was touching itself at the same time. ‘Is this what my victims feel like?’
The truth was, that this was not what Tasha’s victims felt like; it was a completely different type
of magic. Ms. Daisy had been a local witchy troublemaker for over 15 years at this point, but she
worked in spells and objects, rather than whatever it was Tasha had going on. The Spirit Animal
Candle was just that: a candle that unleashes the creature within you. Call it an incredible
coincidence that it fills her body just as she wants to change.
The sensation of transformation washed over her body and mind as Tasha focused hard on the
creature she wished to become. She pictured a raven, sleekly flying through the sky, and tried to
overlay the image of the creature with her human form in her mind’s eye. She bent her legs
slightly to remain relaxed, but was pleasantly suppressed when the bend let out soft cracks of
bone to adjust her posture slightly towards avian sentiments; her first official change.
The woman let herself bob to the full length mirror aside her, letting out soft, pleasured breaths
as she watched her toes grow out against the confines of her fishnets, strands of cheap black
fabric slicing from strain as her toes merged into a clump of three. It felt really good to burst
through clothes, as long as they were unmeaningful. She looked down as her gray talons, which
befit only her feet. She tried to push the changes further visually up her leg, but she couldn’t
seem to continue the transformation with her eyes opened in front of the mirror (the true reason,
of course, being because she was too far away from the fumes of the candle).
After returning to the center of the room, focusing her mind and closing her eyes, she prepared
for the rest of her transformation to take place. Inhaling deep breaths of the tropical scent that
wafted into her nostrils, she felt the sandy tingle return to her insides. She shivered
goosebumps onto her legs as she felt the changes continue up her limbs, pricks and tickles of
hair becoming fat and protruded the more she relaxed into the aroma that surrounded her; her
legs bent slightly at the pure pleasure of feeling a feathery texture coat her skin from the hips
down.
Tasha reached her hands down to her legs, sifting her fingers through the light plumage that
adorned even her thighs. It felt good, but she didn’t want to look and stop the transformation
again. She let her fingers grope at the feathering, urging more growth as her breaths became
quicker and more uncontrolled. It felt sooo good.
Her fingers grew into the places she touched, feeling her digits becoming thinner and more
protruded from a hand and a wrist that felt almost undefined on a rearranging arm. Her hand
grew long, large slabs of feather tickling the back of her skin as she felt more and more
protrusions dance across her left arm, her left arm following suit as fingers slimmed suther into
dainty quills.
She gasped at the sensations, feeling what could only be assumed to be more plumage
emerging from the clumping of her hair, big flat sheets of softness resting on her neck and
collarbone, the tactile experience making her draw even deeper breaths through rearranging
nostrils.
Her nostrils continued to rise on her face with each pleasurable inhalation, as her lips hardened
and clicked together, fattening and growing outwards as they fused with a descending, rounding
nose. She could feel her beak forming in strange ways, each labored breath causing new pieces
of her face to merge in with one another, upper lip becoming indistinguishable from her fat nose,
alltogether creating an avian beak.
She was now gasping for more of the intoxicating aroma, touching at her exposed stomach as
she let more feathers grow on the sides of her torso, letting her tail feather begin to push at the
edge of her skirt— but wait, isn’t a raven’s beak supposed to be longer than that?
Tasha took a few more calculated breaths while feeling at her beak with a prodding wing, but
with disappointment she found it would grow no further. ‘Screw this’ she thought, and opened
her eyes. The first thing she saw was a stunted, curved beak; just beyond it, a bright blue finger
of a quill touching at it.
“Seriously? A parrot?”
The surprise had been revealed to her before the completed punchline. Rather than the sleek
black color palate she had imagined while she had urged on changes behind closed eyes, she
now saw in its place a painfully unsubtle mix of reds, blues, and yellows that adorned the wing
directly in front of her.
Her legs didn’t fare that well either. The limbs she had just been groping with urged anticipation
now presented themselves a vibrant, feathery trunks, adorned with a sheet of red. It offended
her at first, what she saw before her, but as she tried hard to regress her changes into herself,
she found that nothing could urge these feathers back into her skin. It was then that she began
to realize that this change was something out of her control, something greater than herself.
Tasha took deep breaths through a stunted beak that clacked together as she spoke to herself,
feathers coating what skin remained on her body. “Why a parrot, why me… what is causing
this?” She noted the aroma of the candle, but each inhalation only urged further whiffs, a scent
she couldn’t seem to want to extinguish. Her mind raced through the previous 15 minutes, as
her wings grew large and healthily on her body. Arm proportions changed, the largest feathers
only growing larger as they trailed along a revealed stomach, now also adorned with a red coat.
Eventually she arrived at it. It must have been the candle!
She lifted up the candle, reading the label but not extinguishing it. At such a close distance, the
smell was too intoxicating to remove from her beak. The text on the container was simple, just a
title and instructions of a sort— she noted that there were no safety facts, but what could she
expect from an item she received on the street— Enjoy the spiritual scents of Ms. Daisy’s
Spirit Animal Candle! Simply light up in a room, inhale and clear the mind for 5-10
minutes, and let your inner animal take you to the wild side! EFFECTS LAST FOR 10-12
HOURS.
By the time Tasha had finished reading, her transformation had just about completed itself. She
stepped in front of the mirror on the other side of the room, to see a beautiful parrot girl, dressed
in a fashionable and mostly untampered goth fit. Really, could the entire look be considered
goth? Grays and blacks now contrasted heavily with the yellows and blues that lie beside it on
her hefty faux-parrot wings, sharp black fishnets now juxtaposed against a coat of bright red
feathering building against the thin fabric. She turned slightly to the side to see how her tail
feathers lifted her skirt slightly… Tasha was beginning to come around to the whole parrot girl
thing.
Maybe it was just the pleasant aroma that now adorned her room, or just the mental state of a
college student late at night on a Friday, but Tasha was really coming around to her form. The
way her legs bent as she moved left and right in front of the mirror, the way her beak awkwardly
curved into a smile, the way her feathered locks lay even more beautifully on the side of her
head then before; it seemed a parrot might really have been her spirit animal after all. She took
a few cute pics to celebrate.
But she still had time, at least 10 hours to be exact, and ripping holes in her bedsheets with
those talons that had made such light work of her leggings did not seem ideal. Tasha checked
her phone clock— 10:34. The night was young, and she knew of a few human friends who hung
out at a club nearby every night; they would get a kick out of this.
Tasha blew out the candle and turned out the lights. Sitting on the windowsill, looking up at the
stars above, she felt the freest she ever had in her life, and that wasn’t just the candle talking.
‘And my night is just starting’, she thought to herself as she leapt out of the window, falling face
first into the grass below.