#tw described death

[insane-control-room]

rinse and repeat

His job was a grisly one- find the works of the avatars, document them, and then undo them. Then prevent them. Most of the avatars did not like him constantly 'destroying' their work. Most. Not all of them.

rated: T warnings: described death. AU: TMA Length: 1,500 words (short-medium) notes: i don't know much about TMA, but im having a fun time with friends talking about aus so :3

gift fic for @halfusek ft. magenda (as i unaffectionately call this one)

ao3 link here

The pervasive smell in the room clued him off before anything else. It was the sense of dread worsening that immediately followed, an apprehension that made his stomach knot. A flashlight was beaming towards his feet, red slick appearing at the edges of the fallen beam.

Johan did not want to turn on the light, though he could see the words superimposed on the wall above the small switch, a demand rather than a thought. Steeling himself, he flicked it on, filling the room with an unsteady, buzzing light. 

Immediately, regret- no, not regret, some other sad emotion- filled him. 

The filing room had a desk with three chairs in the center- or usually situated in the center, as they had been moved aside for a ladder that now took stage center left. A few papers were scattered about, ruffling Johan mildly. However, his job was not a pleasant one, and sometimes included observing mis-managed paperwork, and… other, worse things. Such as the corpse - his true purpose for entering the room. He noted the body, at true stage center, was perhaps two or three hours old. 

It was a gruesome death. 

Suffocation, electrocution, and decapitation all played their roles. 

It was hard to tell which had killed him, though Johan snapped on a pair of gloves, and set himself to documenting the gritty scene. 

A ladder. 

A box of tools. 

Electrician’s gear taken out. 

It seemed like Bert- the man had taken upon himself to fix a faulty wire. Johan followed the trail to the circuit board and fuse box, and broke past the paneling to see the back of the fuses. 

A group of four were miswired. The dead man had turned off the wrong one, without even knowing it. 

It made Johan frown and sigh. How pointless. 

He returned to the ladder, climbing upwards. Several wires were already dangling loosely, and Johan narrowed his eyes as he attempted to determine the sequence of events.

One of the wires hummed quietly.

Johan traced its path, noting the bloodied loop at one ridge. That would be the decapitation, potentially if the man had fallen forward. Pulling out a tape measure, he checked the likely trajectory. Unfortunately, it lined up. Which meant that indeed, the decapitation had happened last. 

A pity. 

It would have been the fastest death. 

Johan nudged the ladder. It was sturdy. He looked along the wire, along the corpse. 

The bruising by the neck was no longer severe, as it all had been, well, cut, but from what he could see, there had been significant pressure upon it. If Johan were to piece together the order of events (which was exactly what he was doing at the moment), he would have said as follows.

Bertrum turned off the fuse box, unaware that what he was turning off had nothing to do with the task he had taken upon himself. As the light switch was off, and the flashlight lay dimming, Johan decided that the man had not bothered to check the lights when he entered the room, setting down supplies. Had he paused to ensure that the fuse was off, he may have survived. 

Doubtful.

Some other unfortunate happenstance would have occurred, perhaps more grisly than this. 

Regardless. Continuing reconstruction. 

Bertrum had then climbed up the ladder, and began working on rewiring the faulty electrical system. A significant burn on his hand, searing through to his flesh, explained the rest. While he was removing the old wire, he had gotten entangled, and as he had tried to pull it off, his hand brushed an unexposed part of the live wire. Then, with his body stiffening to the current, he must have lost his balance.

Severing his throat on the wire. 

Johan was meticulous in his documentation. If he was not, he may miss something in the next run that would result in another failure. Or he might get himself… quite hurt. Usually the latter always left him snapping awake in his threadbare bed, gasping for breath and with a dull painful sensation in his chest, ready to try again. However, that was an outcome he tried to avoid. 

Speaking of things that one tried to avoid….

Johan heard him before he saw him, the slightly off rhythm gait giving him away. Glancing around the room with a sigh, he acknowledged that:

Magenta had some connection to the death;

OR

Magenta was drawn towards it, like a fly to rotting flesh.

It may have been both. 

He said nothing as the other lanky man entered the room, smiling. 

Magenta surveyed the scene calmly, suppressing a shiver of delight. He said nothing to Johan, who was marking which of the wires were live. Johan rolled his eyes, and went back to examining the bad wire to determine where its true source really was to make sure that when he corrected this misconstrued blip, he did it properly - once. Magenta watched him work with a smile blandly painted over his face.

Eventually, Johan pulled out a chair, on the opposite side of the table from the corpse, and sat in it heavily, another sigh fighting to escape him. Magenta watched keenly, though his eyes were half open. Johan moved back a second chair, silently expectant, and Magenta sat in it. 

“This one is fun, isn't it?” Magenta commented lightly, a smile still on his face. Johan shrugged glumly, staring at the paperwork before him instead of the body just beyond the desk. Unique, certainly; saddening, yes. Not quite so ‘fun’ for him, especially when one considered what his job entailed.  “Don’t look so down, Jo!”

“Kinda hard not to when there’s a dead body in f-front of me,” Johan retorted, brow furrowing and mouth twitching downwards. Magenta shrugged, smiling still. “And when it’s so….”

“Purposeful?” Magenta questioned, teeth glinting in his smile. Johan stared at him, not enjoying the shudder of upset that he tried to hide. Magenta noticed it anyway. “Well, maybe that’s not the right word. Artistic might be a better one.” 

“Right,” Johan mumbled. It surely was an artistic death. “Maybe the creator might have done well to warn me. Content warnings or w-whatever.” 

Here Magenta frowned. 

Johan looked away, abashed. 

“S-sorry. That was unkind of me. I’m on edge.” 

“Sure,” Magenta rolled his eyes, leaning back. Johan stood, picking up the clipboard, making some final measurements and documentations. “Don’t forget the dead fuse.”

Johan tilted his head as he looked at him. Magenta raised an eyebrow, a silent dare to check him. Johan saw no need to do so- as he would be able to check when he would do his… ‘cleanup’. Not to mention, despite the man’s goals, Johan trusted Magenta. Which may have been the fault of memories not his own.

The older man matched the tilt of his head, humorous.

“What?” he asked, a slight grin at the edges of his mouth. Johan’s lips parted to say something, and then closed. Magenta’s smile broadened cheekily, eyes flashing. “Oh, dear. Be more careful, Jo! We wouldn’t want…” Magenta glanced at Bertrum’s mutilated, burned corpse, fighting his smile from growing wider. “An accident.” 

“Why d-did you tell me about it?” Johan asked, faced with a troubled emotion that he locked up and decided that he would not think about or confront. Magenta’s smile remained unchanging. “Mag….”

The other man stood up, still evenly looking at Johan.

“You’re smart, Jo,” the avatar of The End chided, tapping the end of Johan’s nose. “Think about it.”

“The resetting, I kn-know,” Johan replied, pursing his lips. He knew why Magenta was much more tranquil and compliant around him than the other essences of fears, who generally disliked watching Johan undo their work time after time. Not Magenta, though. Magenta was quite happy with the fact that he was able to expand on his medium repeatedly thanks to Johan’s role. “But why warn me a-about the fuse not working? You know what h-happens to me if… an ‘accident’ does occur.” 

Magenta shrugged, smile still on his face. 

“Thought it might make your day a bit better,” Magenta brightly replied. Johan looked away, face warming. “I’m sure that whatever weird process renews you is no party.” 

“It’s… it’s definitely not, no,” Johan agreed, feeling pain creeping along his spine. He exhaled, softening, managing a small smile on his stressed visage. “So… I thank you.”

“It’s nothing, Jo,” Magenta’s own relaxed smile was dazzling, toothy and bright; yet sharklike. It made a trickle of fluster bloom in Johan’s chest, worsened by his next words. “I’m sure you’ll figure out a nicer way to thank me, don’t you think?” 

Johan did not reply, looking away, face heating considerably. Magenta laughed a little, a chuckle, and Johan’s blushing intensified. A hand brushed his cheek as Magenta sauntered out of the room. 

Johan watched him leave, words he could not describe resting on his tongue, unsure if he should go after the man, properly ‘thank’ him.

Instead, Johan checked his paperwork, inhaled, and reset.

[novva]

Artist’s rendition of two girls I saw poking a squirrel last week

[u3pxx]

my comic for @aabadendingzine which is out for free over here.

extra stuff/commentary under the cut | like what i do? support me on ko-fi 💙

helloooo how's it going? i really hope you enjoyed the comic <3 it's rare for me to draw such wholesome things, i know [bats eyelashes]

DFGHDJKF ok i know, it's evil, the entire zine is evil you should go read it!!!!!!! but also, i remember coming up with this prompt and the image of mikeko trying to wake a dead apollo up evoked such a visceral reaction in me that i audibly went "NOOOOOO" when i thought it up LOL

the fourth page is the first page i ever thumbnailed bc i knew EXACTLY how i wanted this thing to end!

i think my favorite page of this comic is the 2nd page (the 4th page being my second favorite bc what can i say, i'm evil wheezes) i just really enjoyed drawing the montage of apollo going about his life and kristoph just. being there. always watching him.

i keep thinking about how spark brushel mentioned feeling like he was being watched those past 7 years. i imagined apollo would get a taste of that once he starts trying to find out the truth behind what happened in his first case.

and as for my favorite panel, I REALLY LIKE THIS ONE!! it's just fun shoving every important element alluding to the case 7 years ago to the moment when zak died!

and it's not very obvious but an element i really like about this one is zak still on the chair he died on. it's just his torso visible and i would've loved to make it more obvious that he's there but oh well.

i can't think of anything else to add about drawing this so i'll end it by saying: PLEASE GO READ THE ZINE, IT'S SO SOS SOSOSOS FULL OF LOVE FOR HURT AND TRAGEDY AND THE WAY MY FELLOW ZINEMATES EXPLORED THAT IS SUCH!!! GOOD AND HEARTWRENCHING STUFF!!!!!!!!!

i had to take a break from reading the zine when i went out to finish it bc my chest started to physically hurt bc ohhhhh lordy, it just hurt. it just hurt a lot! (please do read the trigger warnings before reading the thing bc this zine deals with a lot of heavy stuff!)

i like to joke about how i'm evil and enjoy evil things such as angst no comfort which. well, it's kind of true LMAO so i'm thrilled that i was able to be a part of this zine and cook up something completely terrible <3

here's the link for it again, go read it!

[storekn1fe]

yuri...

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

If what they say about lack of sleep is true I am absolutely going to die bloody early with the state my sleep schedule is in.

[uncanny-tranny]

You know, I don't necessarily buy into the idea of "you die twice; once when your heart stops beating, and the second when you are forgotten" because I don't think we're truly forgotten.

Throughout history, we've found proof of people existing, well after their death, well after they've been forgotten by their community and time. Even if we do not have names for these people, we know they were alive. We touch their bones, and we internalize their lives. We learn how they lived through the stories we interpret from their bones, and then we tell others about them. They haven't been forgotten, and it's not unlikely that you won't be forgotten.

Why is it that we only "count" if we are immortalized in the history books, if we scar time to the point nothing would be the same if we were forgotten?

And, anyway, look at this cat, who died so long ago, but whose memory is still remembered:

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

hey uhhhhh what the fuck

and why are most of us dannies like is this why dannies are the way we are

[beansprean]

I did not want to draw a weeks-or-months-old decomposing corpse so let's all just continue to hand wave any sort of concrete timeline for this comic.

My Familiar’s Ghost part 42

Masterpost

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Close up on past Guillermo, in sepia tones, as he looks up at Nandor with a nervous grin, cheeks flushed. He asks, 'Are...are you going to eat me?' 1b. Zoom out, close up on past Nandor in the foreground in profile as he turns his gaze away from Guillermo with an uncomfortable grimace. He grumbles, 'I was going to, but you're kind of taking all the fun out of it...' Guillermo pipes up with an 'I'm sorry!' in the background, still smiling and wringing his hands together. 1c. Back in the present, close up on Nandor walking through the hall behind the Panera counter, looking down in surprise as he steps in something wet. Past Guillermo's dialogue continues: 'Do you want me to...run or something?' 1d. Shot of the floor in front of present Nandor from his POV, showing a dead human in a Panera hat and apron laying there in a pool of blood, throat ripped out. Nandor rolls her over with his foot and says, 'Yeesh, already slacking on body disposal, Guillermo?' 1e. Close up on present Nandor in profile as he looks back up, brow furrowed and eyes shining with regret. He says, 'I proper sire would have... Would have seen you through this.' 1f. Back to the past, sepia tones. Medium shot of past Nandor squinting down at Guillermo and leaning away with a look of suspicion, as if he were contagious with something. He asks, 'Why are you so eager? Are you some kind of...death pervert?' Offscreen, past Guillermo responds, 'No, no! I just...'

2a. Back to the present. Shot behind Nandor as he walks through the hall behind the Panera counter, coming to an wall straight ahead with a few miscellaneous cardboard boxes, a metal freezer door to the left, and a wooden door to the right that says 'employees only'. The door is cracked open slightly, letting a dim light into the dark hallway. Nandor walks toward it. Past Guillermo's dialogue continues: 'I've always wanted to be a vampire.' 2b. Close up on Nandor's hand closing around the doorknob to the room. Past Guillermo's dialogue continues, 'And I figure...' 2c. Wide shot from within the room as Nandor opens the door fully, his silhouette visible in the doorway on the far wall. It appears to be a break room, or was, with a unisex bathroom on the left wall, a collection of round tables and wooden chairs, and a short counter with upper and lower cabinets, sink, and coffee maker on the far wall next to a top-freezer refrigerator. The fridge is cracked open, which is what let light into the room. In the righthand corner closest to the viewer is a nonfunctional soda machine that says 'bepis' on the front. There is blood smeared around the fridge handles, the light switches, the soda machine buttons, in shuffling footprints on the floor, congealed in styrofoam cups scattered around the counter next to an abandoned cardigan, and dripping down the cabinets. One of the tables is overturned against a wall along with a chair with several broken legs. More importantly, perhaps, the room is littered with corpses. There is a dark-skinned bald man laying in the center of the room who appears to be wearing a Panera apron and is, presumably, human. The bald corpse laying next to him with pointed ears and a long black cape is decidedly not. Another body lays tangled in the fallen table and chair, bloodied cape tossed over their head. A woman in leather and a long skirt lays on her back on an upright table, coated in blood and throat ripped apart, staring emptily past the viewer with her mouth hanging open to show her fangs. Another corpse is slumped upright against the wall next to Nandor, wearing bellbottoms and a paisley shirt. His head is tipped back, mouth open and full of sharp teeth, the broken wooden leg of a chair sticking out of his chest. As Nandor stands and stares at the carnage, past Guillermo's dialogue continues: 'It's now or never, right?' /end ID

[cosmicourple]

Telemachus should get to bite someone, rip them apart with his bare hands, spray their blood across the floor through violent chomps and clawing at their wretched skin,,,,,,,

as a treat *disintegrates :3*

[byghostface]

"If I am killed for simply living, let death be kinder than man."

Poem → Kinder Than Man by Althea Davis

Comic panels → Robin(2021) #7 by Writer- Joshua Williamson, Artist- Gleb Melnikov

.

(Just thinking that Damian stays by Nika's side, holding onto her wrist waiting for her pulse to come back… and she doesn't know how much he cares for her at this very moment…)

(But Nika still recognizes that Damian is kind to her, and it's all that matters to her.)

"Then I found a guy who truly had my back. He's complicated and came preloaded with family baggage, but we laugh a lot and he treats me nice."

"And I really was happy you agreed to help me… and you did help me."

Comic panels → Lazarus Planet: Next Evolution by Writer- Brandon T. Snider, Artist- Laura Braga/ Batman and Robin(2023) #8 by Writer- Joshua Williamson, Artist- Nikola Čižmešij

.

(​I need Damian and Nika to be cosmically intertwined in every lifetime/possible universe through their connections and experiences with death, and be buried together side by side at the end of time with this poem engraved onto their graves.)

[tragic-ships-tournament]

Tragic Ships Tournament Round 1

INCREDIBLE RADIANT WORDS ART BY THE EVEN MORE INCREDIBLE @ricky-mortis

Propaganda under the cut!

Radiant Words:

"their ship name is radiant words!!!! on an island full of people with magic, margaret calls samuel the masterpiece! they are canonically a sun/moon couple! samuel has sun motifs, and margaret has moon motifs. samuel says that margaret made him a better man! their lives changed because they met each other. they're permanently changed by their time together."

Charted:

"They're never actually fullt together. Ted wants there to be something more, Charlotte won't leave her husband or any other affairs for him. They hook up at the end of the world, only to stop to fight halfway through because Charlotte won't stop talking about her dead husband (whose corpse is in the room, mind). Ted leaves, Charlotte's husband reanimates and kills her, and then they both go try and kill Ted (and company). Both Charlotte and her husband get shot in the head, effectively killing them for "good"-- so even when Ted gets killed and comes back, Charlotte isn't there. It's also pretty much confirmed that in every other timeline, Ted a) dies from a gunshot wound somehow and b) gets trapped in a timeloop, so even if they were together in some universe out there it ends with his death."

Another Timmy note: PLEASE VOTE MARGARET AND SAMUEL PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. GOD HE LITERALLY SAVED HER LIFE AND TAUGHT HER TO FINALLY GET OUT OF HER COMFORT ZONE AND HES THE REASON SHE DISCOVERED HERSELF AND OUGH

[eri-pl]

So, I was thinking about Elros (as you do)

and death in general, and early Númenor, but in particular, Elros. Why/how did he die exactly. Because in some notes Tolkien says Elros didn't have a set timespan, like the Elves (in most notes he says opposing things, yes). Plus my whole HC saying that half-Elves, even non-Earendiled, don't get old, they live until killed and then they just pop put like Men.

And I had a thought, inspired by a post I read a few days ago: So, Elves can die of grief. What if that's a tiny bit wider? what it the "died of grief" phenomenon is more accurately "died of longing". What it.

Because for me this would explain the weird Elven plot-device of dying from grief + Elros + connects nicely to early Númenor.

[ghoul--doodle]

Rest in peace sweet boy, I love you SO so much

[lycankeyy]

I'm not usually a big judge of horror stuff especially because I Am a supporter of fiction as an outlet so I don't even mind more grotesque stuff in horror a lot but I'll admit I have ran into a few analog horror things that are just like. Why. They're always labeled as like "THE MOST DISTURBING YOUTUBE HORROR" and it's just descriptions of children dying horribly. Like multiple episodes worth of children dying horribly. Like at a certain point it's not even scary I'm just like why. Are you so into describing this

[cepheusgalaxy]

[ID: Traditional artpiece of Angel Dust in the black outfit he wears in Poison, pole dancing upside-down and smiling to the viewer. There is a signature close to him, at the left, saying "Bug" with the date: 10-11/03/24. The background is plain white. /end ID.]

He died from overdose when he was alive sir

[kissoflightning]

Markus plays the piano so badly that Carl literally has a heart attack and dies.

The events of Detroit: Become Human described incorrectly