#death words

[marbearwrites]

Death and His Grief Hounds...

The Grief Hounds circle the floor of my bedroom while Death sits calmly in my recliner. I glare at him from my bed.

"You weren't supposed to take him too."

He smiles. "Darlin', I hope you learn that some unexpected deaths happen. I'm sorry you had to go through that. But he left quickly."

"I hate you," I reply to Death.

"That's nothing new, sweetheart. I'm surprised you've turned on me is all. I thought you wanted my company, remember? Aren't you rather lonely grieving by yourself?"

"So? That doesn't change the fact that you took him away from us."

The Grief Hounds yawn lazily watching us converse back and forth. One saunters up onto my bed. His black fur, soft, underneath my fingers. He licks my face and rests his dark head in my lap.

"He had to go."

"I didn't get to tell him good morning like I always do."

Tears are welling in my eyes, but they refuse to fall.

"I know, but he knows you loved him. You can still love him. He's in a good place and not in pain."

He pauses watching His Grief Hound nuzzle into me.

"He seems to like you a lot."

"What is he?"

"A dog, can't you tell?"

"He's no dog."

"He is, but he's a special kind of creature."

"Oh?"

Death smiles as if he holds all the secrets in the world.

"Every death is different. Some are sudden and quick. Others are long waiting periods. My job isn't always fun. You should know this, by now."

Death rises from his seat and pets his Grief Hounds.

"Keep her company for a while, alright boys? She's rather lonely right now."

"Won't you need them, too?"

"No, I have a multitude of them. These two are my favorite though."

"Why are you giving them to me?"

"You need them," He states matter-of-factly.

"Do they have names?"

"No, but you can name them if you like."

Mind preoccupied with names; Death vanishes from my room.

"What kind of names do you like?"

They gaze up at me with their dark eyes. One lays beside me while the other curls up in my lap. I scratch both of their heads as we sit comfortably together.

"What about Vesper for you," I tell the one in my lap.

"And Draven for you," I tell the one wedged into my side.

Both Vesper and Draven sigh and close their eyes.

I lean back into my pillows, as I watch the Grief Hounds sleep.

"I hope Death doesn't disagree on your names," I whisper as their added warmth lulls me to sleep.

[nepalsaysrawr]

Long live "dead"! Long live "suicide"! Long live "kill"!

I'm not promoting killing others or yourself, but I think saying these words should be done more often!

made this to express frustration with internet censorship and how people talk on tiktok. i don't even use the app but I never want to hear the word unalive again

find more of my art at @tr4nsjester on instagram :p

[hawkeabelas]

you're allowed to say "sex" on the internet. See? I just did it. Sex. Sex sex sex. You don't have to say s*x or smex or Adult Fun Times or s3x or "spice" any other variation of self-censorship on tumblr dot com you can just spell out the word SEX i am going to scream until the heat death of the universe

[bebs-art-gallery]

© pet_foolery

[bamsara]

Finor, the first follower.

[toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account]

being a student during peak pandemic was so fucking surreal like. "it's not an excuse to fall behind" I cannot stress enough to you how much A Worldwide Plague Upending Life As We Know It is literally one of The Top Three Reasons to fall behind

[nothatsmi]

The Kings men, chapter four

Okay i'm literally shaking posting this, i've been working on it for days i lost all objectivity about it.

Someone requested this scene when I asked for recommendations on an older post, so this is tkm chapter four:

"Andrew sprawled on the couch in the lounge while Kevin went ahead to change out. Neil hesitated, changed his mind and started after Kevin, and changed his mind again. He stood behind the couch, folding his arms across the back of it, and peered down at Andrew. Andrew had one arm folded under his head and the other draped over his eyes to block the light. 'One of these days you might as well practice with us,' Neil said."

This scene is so long I had to cut some parts (including the incredible "You let us run ourselves into the ground and clean up behind us. You play the game like you play life. That's why you're so good at it.").

Not to mention Andrew's height fear, one of my all-time favorite aftg quotes ("When you said you were afraid of heights, you were joking, right?" "Andrew, you can't be. What were you doing on the roof?" "Feeling." -tkm ch.5).

Update: I cut the (too long) comic into smaller images so that you can open it and have a better quality, hope it works!

[toqiuh]

been reading bamsara's TROD au and man do i love their dynamic

[numbuh424]

check your speech bubbles before doing your victory monologue

[feral-ballad]

Mosab Abu Toha, from Things You May Find Hidden in My Ear: Poems from Gaza

[marbearwrites]

Co-Dependency with Death....

"What did you name them," Death asks me as He sits with me late into the night.

"The one at your feet is Draven, and the one on your lap is Vesper."

He studies his Grief Hounds and gazes to me. "Those were the names you picked?"

"Well...I could have named one Spot and Dot. Or Darkness and Barkness," I responded as I stare up at my bedroom ceiling.

"How cute."

"It was you who let me name them! You didn't give them names."

I hear a laugh from the dark corner of my room. "I suppose so, but they don't look like Vesper or Draven to me."

"Too late, they love their names."

My room is quiet as the Grief Hounds sleep. Death is still for a moment as He sits once more in my recliner. "Have they helped you?"

"A little."

Buried under my layer of blankets and my hair draped across my pillow, I can't think of what else to say to Him.

"Death, how old are you?"

"Too old," He says without hesitation.

"But you look young-ish."

"I have no age. I shift my appearance when I wish."

"That must be exhausting," I murmur.

The Grief Hounds snore but don't wake up.

"Why?"

"Think of it, your existence is never ending. Wouldn't you grow weary of always changing shape or form for so long?"

"No, I enjoy my work."

"You enjoy it?"

My voice comes out higher than I intended, but Death doesn't mind at all.

"Yes. All the souls I meet. I am a witness to all their stories."

"Oh, do you ever wish you were doing another type of work?"

I hear my recliner rock back and forth as He relaxes and ponders on what to say. "No. I've always done so, so I must."

"You sound ancient there," I tease Him.

"I am ancient, but so is living."

"Are we souls annoying to you?"

"No. Souls have their stories-who am I to judge?"

I guess so."

I close my eyes trying to wish myself asleep. I need to shut my brain off, but it's always spinning out of control at night right before bed. "You won't leave me, Death?"

"Are you in need of me and the Grief Hounds? I thought I saw improvements?"

"Not by much."

"Yes, I can, but you can't always depend on me to keep you company."

His words sting, but He's being truthful.

"I know. I don't know who else to go to with all of this-with all of me. You don't enforce positive bullshit when I'm breaking."

"I'm not a therapist, dear."

"I know."

"Then why do you persist that I must be the one to be here?"

"I'm too used to you now-how can I ask you to leave?"

"You shouldn't be."

"You seem rather comfortable here with me, why is that? Do you pity me now that I've lost two family members?"

"No. I worry you will cling to me too long and forget about living."

Tears well in the corner of my eyes as our late-night talk turns serious. I am familiar with Death now. He is familiar with me. How do I separate myself from Him when He has been with me for so long?

"I'm holding my breath these days believing you will take another one from me. Do you think I could ever live again?"

"You will. If you have enough courage to seek me for company, then you will have the strength to face life again."

"I'm tired of pretending all the time. I'm tired of it. "

"I know, dear."

"When will you stop by again?"

I know it is strange of me to ask Death to visit, but He understands. He's a soothing balm to my aching soul and heart. A co-dependency has formed between us, and I am to blame.

He lets me remove my mask of normalcy as I walk free of the stage light. Even actors grow tired of performing sometimes. And I have always been performing my tricks and jokes to appear together.

'When I find time, dear. Now rest. You'll only wear yourself out more if you don't."

"You promise you'll come visit?"

But the recliner is empty, and the Grief Hounds are gone.

[letallthetrashraindown]

@judas-redeemed / Wilhelm Schulz, “All Soul’s Day” / Neil Hilborn, “Our Numbered Days” /@petfurniture / Hugo Simberg , “The Garden of Death” / Ramona Ausubel

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

Being someone who read Under The Red Hood and came out with the firm belief that, for Jason, it's not about killing Joker, it's about Jason wanting proof Batman would choose him over the Joker (bc shelia chose the joker). Makes seeing any other media where it's all about just wanting the Joker dead is a teeny bit frustrating. to be honest

Jason could've killed the Joker himself, really, really easily. Jason kidnaps the Joker before the confrontation. I can't open my comic for a reference right now, but it felt like he had the Joker for quite a bit before the confrontation. He had him. He beat him up with a crowbar. He had every single opportunity to kill the Joker himself, but he didn't because that wasn't his goal. Make no mistake, he did plan for the Joker to be dead by the end of it, but do you see what im trying to say here

Edit: If I knew this post was gonna get 1000+ notes I would've tried to word it better or something, this was a rant I made on the way to the grocery store 😭

It's not about making Batman kill either. When Batman says he won't kill, Jason adjusts and goes, 'Let ME kill the Joker or kill me to stop me' instead. The test is all about Batman choosing him. The whole final confrontation is Jason's first death again. The parent, The Joker, and the explosives. It even ends with Jason unable to move as a bomb goes off right next to him again because the parent didn't choose Jason. And instead tried finding an option that'd benefit them and (consequencely) letting the Joker walk, again, lol, lmao <-in agony

[chaiaurchaandni]

have humans developed a language that can accurately describe the intensity of this grief?

[girlfictions]

Hiba Abu Nada, from I Grant You Refuge (trans. Huda Fakhreddine)

Hiba Abu Nada was a novelist, poet, and educator. She wrote this poem on Oct. 10th, 2023. She died a martyr, killed in her home in south Gaza by an Israeli raid on Oct. 20th, 2023. She was 32 years old.

[silvermoon424]

This is your daily reminder to archive your favorite fandom stuff!!!

I've been a voracious archivist/data hoarder ever since I first got access to a computer, and it's paid off more times than I can count. Just the other day I came across a PDF copy of an analysis post for one of my fandoms. The post was made on an old forum and is the most detailed and interesting analysis of a particular story element I've ever seen. Back in like 2012 I saved the post as a PDF, because even then I saved everything I liked.

Anyway, flash forward to 2025 and I decided to see if the URL included in the document was still live. I wasn't very surprised to see that the forum is long dead. However, even the Wayback Machine had no record of this thread. If I hadn't saved a copy of it way back when, I would have never, ever been able to read this analysis again!

The Internet Archive is sadly not infallible, especially when it comes to things like forum threads. You can do your part by manually saving things to the Wayback Machine, but I also recommend keeping your own archives. Aside from just saving pages as PDFs, I highly recommend a browser extension called SingleFile that lets you archive pages as HTML files.