#decompositions

[ex0skeletal-undead]

Back to the Roots - Shower by Alex Kuhn

[miss-americanbi]

the way i so personally need messy queer breakup crowley in season 3. let him mope around his sad apartment listening to sad music all disheveled in an ancient queen tshirt. let him dye his hair an awful color or get a piercing he’ll regret. let him get wasted with nina and maggie whilst he talks their ears off about each and every time he and aziraphale made eye contact. this is the queer representation i crave.

[gerardbillet]

Summer Street Masters : Bansky : Flower Bomber Sculpture, Vhils : Man Portraits, Decomposition, Jonone : Lay-Ups, the Workers of Art-Poetry in Motion, Plaque 13. #galeriebrugierrigail #summerstreet #masters #bansky #vhils #jonone #flowerbombersculpture #manportrait #decompositions #layups #theworkersofart #poetryinmotion #plaque13 #streetart #urbanart #artderue #arturbain #ɪɴsᴛᴀᴘɪᴄ #photooftheday📷 #parismaville🙏 (à Galerie Brugier-Rigail Paris) https://www.instagram.com/p/CfRwq-iLXc9/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[claypigeonpottery]

I fucking love how this turned out. unfortunately it cracked along the rim. I’ve done my best to fix it, but it’s up to the pottery gods now

if it doesn’t survive I will be making another one

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

[purpleghoul87]

mike prepares for the job interview

since u guys seem to really enjoy the recently-scooped michael ... here's some more ... but it's a prequel to the first post >:D

[ part 1 if you missed it <3 ]

[trickstersaint]

decomposition (dysphoria) // june 2023

[foresight-studio]

Digest a dead god. Create a new world.

I just published Decomposer, a one-page RPG about life after death for 1-6 players! Take on the role of a larva, a fungal spore, a seed, or some other miniscule critter. Eat the remains of a beast too enormous to fathom, and digest its bits and pieces into a new plane of existence.

Decomposer is inspired by Norse & Mesopotamian creation myths, games like The Quiet Year, and by the humble creatures that form the foundation of our ecosystems.

You can get it (for free!) on itch.io.

[loveofastarvingdog]

and another thing on the tma / tmagp fear categories ‼️ although the most recent episode was almost definitively what someone would categorize as a Corruption statement... it does not have the same flavour fear as the tma Corruption fear. it's too clean. it is too fresh, and gentle. it is cool and clear where the Corruption of tma is warm and muggy... whether this means same fears with different flavours / nuances, different fears, or the lack of any actual categories of fear, we have yet to see. and i for one am soooooo hyped for it

[ex0skeletal-undead]

Rot, oil painting by Eve Hyman

[roadkill-raccoons]

Pomegranates, the fruit of the dead :)

[oleander-nin]

Horrortober Day 9 - Death(Yandere Rise Mikey x Reader)

A/N, not important: DO NOT IGNORE THE CONTENT WARNINGS. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: DEATH, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH(?), DECOMPOSITION, living with a corpse, Delusions, vomit, kidnapping, blood, bodily fluids, dark themes, yandere themes

Words: 964

Summary: Mikey's so far into his own head he doesn't even notice how far gone you are as well.

Mikey whistles to himself as he draws in his sketchbook, your head in his lap while he does so. It was a lazy Saturday, nothing going on for him, or for you. He decided that morning that he didn’t want to do anything but cuddle and relax, dragging you into his lap and settling down. The hand he wasn’t using to draw rakes slowly through your hair, your closed eyes and paling face making Mikey smile.

You were so much sweeter like this. Complacent with everything he does, no longer fighting, no longer flinching at his touch. Sure, you had grown quiet, but you had also stopped arguing. It was a massive improvement in his eyes.

The candles around his room flickered, the sweet aroma battling the foul stench seeping from the depths. He barely noticed, having grown so used to the smell. It wasn’t bad to him, and he brushed it off whenever his brothers complained when they walked by. It was why he got the candles after all. To quell their complaints and keep you happy. He couldn’t have you living in a rancid room after all. Even if it was mostly your fault either way.

Mikey sets his pencil down and leans over, grabbing the remote to his personal TV Donnie had gifted him for you. He turns it on, switching through the channels with mild disinterest. He glances down at you, his thumb caressing your cheek softly. He could feel your cheek cavity caving in at the small amount of pressure, fluid spilling from your lips. He simply wipes it away and turns back to the screen, ignoring the way your hair falls out in clumps in his hands as he strokes your head.

“What do you want to watch?” He asks, clicking through each channel as it comes on. He appreciates how you weren’t as rigid as the other day, although your skin still felt dry. He knew you hadn’t been getting up to take care of yourself, but it was still disappointing. Maybe he’d give you some lotion to put on later, to add some more life to your touch.

He doesn’t wait for you to answer, clicking on the first cartoon that pops up and leaning over his sketchbook once more. The weight of your head in his lap was comforting, making every wrong in the world right once more. You were his anchor, keeping him still and steady despite the rocking waves. He would be lost without you, and he refused to ever let you go.

The TV drones on in the background while Mikey draws, loosely sketching you and practicing poses with your body. He was restraining himself from adding too much detail to the pieces, trying to capture your essence in as few lines as possible, but feeling guilty for not pulling out all the stops in the drawing of your likeness.

He takes your limp hand and squeezes it, whispering soft words to you while he stares. You gave no opinion to his dilemma, but Mikey still felt bad for not giving you the full works, even if it was just in a drawing. He sighs, deciding to leave those drawings as just sketches, and make a fuller piece of you on the next page.

The page turns, and a knock sounds from the door, startling Mikey. He stares at the door for a moment before carefully moving you off him and slipping off the bed. He opens the door to see Leo, the older slider grimacing. He coughs when the door opens, taking a step back from his room.

“Mikey, Hermano, your room smells like death. Are you okay? Did a rat die in your paints again?”

Mikey frowns, shaking his head. “Not that I know of. And I have candles burning, so that should get rid of the smell soon. But I don’t even notice it unless I’ve been outside for a long while. It’s not that bad.”

Leo sighs, rubbing the bridge of his snout. He didn’t have the heart to tell him just how awful the smell was. He looks at his younger brother, both in concern and love. “Have they woken up yet at least? You said they’ve been sleeping for three days now.”

Mikey pouts, shaking his head. “Nope, still asleep. I shook them this morning and everything.”

Leonardo stares at his younger brother, contemplating what to do. He understood you were Mikey’s, and he wasn’t going to fight the younger on that again. However, having his youngest sibling and his kidnapped partner live in a room that reeked of death, especially while you were apparently out cold, was not the best idea.

“I’ll take a look at them.” Leo mumbles, walking into the room once Mikey steps to the side. Leo covers his nose as he steps into the thick of it, his eyes burning and lungs crying out for mercy. He couldn’t even breathe through his mouth, the air tasting as putrid as it smelled. His eyes land on you, and he freezes. Flies were buzzing around your head, landing on your skin. Pus and other fluids dripped from you, your bloated body being in the middle of Mikey’s bed and staining his sheets and blankets with the muck of decomposition.

Mikey was right in a sense. You hadn’t been waking up. Not like you could anymore, not with what Leo was staring at. Your eyes looked to have been forced shut with tape, your body patchy and drained of color from the lack of life. Mikey looks on at you too, his vision warped to see your sleeping form rather than your corpse. Your dead, rotting corpse.

Leo pukes and runs out of the room, yelling for his brothers with Mikey’s pleas hot on his heels.

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

This is Where it Ends, Mats Tusenfot, 2012

[deadboystims]

deadboy stimboard

ᯓ★ x x x , x x x , x x x