#Who's swinging the Hatchet now In Hatchet Town?

[dizzybutterflyanons]

Someone: hi

Me: I’ve never seen darker times, and I’ve covered the protest live, at the Hatchet Kennel. I am Dan Reynolds....with Action News, weekdays at 10 PM (/lyr)

[its-short-for-jackalope]

oh, you know it's gonna be a good day when you wake up with "Hatchet Town" playing in your brain. 🪓😏🎶

[sw33t-oubliette]

YAYYYYYYY HATCHET TOWN

[skylarksof]

Do you even UNDERSTAND. I’ve never known darker times, and I covered the protest live at the Hatchetfield kennel. I am Dan Reynolds. (…with action news weekdays at 10pm) I hate to relay the news, but the football team might be screwed- stay inside, watch your children, CUZ A LOSIN’ STREAK’S COMIN’! (A losin’ streak’s comin’!) THERE’S A MAN ON THE LOOSE AND HE’S GOT A GUN, BETTER PUT OUT THE APB. The psycho’s killed two, if he gets me next, make it threeeeee (if he gets me next, I could be three!) We’re chasing wild goose and we don’t know how, watch the blame go around! Man down, down, down, who’s swinging the hatchet now? In HATCHET TOWN

[whisperingthorns]

(Yandere Ticci Toby x Reader) Charmed by Shadows

Chapter 1: A Glimpse in the Shadows

__________________

Silence. Toby walked through the woods leaves crunching under his feet. He was looking at the floor, looking at the little bugs scuttle through the leaves. Tobias Roger’s was a quiet man. At least today he was. He paused watching a bug crawl under a leaf. It had been a couple weeks since he arrived in the town of Ravenwood in Maine.

Masky and Hoodie were not to come to this mission. So it was just Tobias by himself today…and everyday for the year he supposed. This mission should take some time. A whole year old solitude? Slender should know better then to leave the unstable Proxy alone. He didn’t wanna seem like pussy though. He took it. The job that is.

Though for the past couple weeks he’s been plagued by this dream. Sometimes it was a nice dream, other times he woke up crying. The dream is stupid. Too stupid to even write in his journal. It’s about a princess who sits and talks with him. Sometimes he pushes her on a swing, sometimes he eats her cooking for a picnic, it’s always in the woods though. He’s heard tales of the fae and such, maybe that’s what she is? It just feels so real. He just sits there and talks, even about problems he has in his waking life and she always manages to make him feel better. He wonders if maybe he’s developing a new disorder and she’s a figment that will manifest herself eventually.

Toby’s face snaps to the side when he hears a noise, much like singing. Singing? In the woods? What is this? A Disney movie? Toby shuffles to the tree line. Toby’s face scrunches up when he sees her, the girl practically skipping through the path in the woods, ignoring how it pretty much ending a couple yards back. She had to know that right. She was wearing and dress, once he recognized but couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Having nothing better to do, Toby took a seat and watched her pass, fingers pulling up the grass as he fiddled with it.

Her dress flowed around her perfectly. Her black shoes kicking up dirt. She had to be around the same age as him, but the way she was acting was a bit childish to say the least. Toby thought about running from the brush and burying a hatchet in his skull, hearing her scream, and look up at him in her final moments, the dark red ruining her dress forever. ‘Pretty girl.’ He thought giving a grin. ‘Wonder how long it takes for anyone to notice she’s missing. Will anyone come looking for her? Prince Charming perhaps?’ If this was a fairytale, he wondered what role that would make him. Certainly not the hero.

Tobias wasn’t the hero in anyone’s story. Not even his own. Especially not hers. However Tobias didn’t kill for no reason. He’s seen the stories online. The fanfiction they write, but he also sees what some of the public thinks of him. He wasn’t any hero. Though sometimes he liked to google his own name he found interesting things. From old articles to art, to fanfiction of him rescuing forgotten and abused like him. Bring them with him. Toby wondered if he would have felt that way if he wasn’t involved in the debacle. Would he wish the slenderman take him too? Would he leave his window open and still draw the proxy symbol on his wrists in hopes he would be rescued?

Must be horrible to realize that the faceless man wouldn’t ever show up. He was picky. The girl was looking at something on a tree now, some sort of bird. She was delighted when it came closer. “Bitch has never se-seen a bird b-before” No but seriously what was her deal? She’s in the woods…alone…in a dress…playing with birds. How does she know someone like him won’t come up and…lift that pretty dress? Toby thought about shoving her up against the tree, teasing her a bit. He shook the thought away. Gross. You shouldn’t think that way about random girls in the woods. Wow that’s a sentence. Random girl in the woods…he looked her over again. He really could kill her here.

Toby got up, gripping his hatchet. She was so unsuspecting. He was literally feet from her. Him! A killer! A proxy! She wasn’t even sensing his presence. It was like watching a suspecting deer through a sniper scope.

Suddenly Toby threw the hatchet, and it catch the girl in the throat, her eyes widened, blood pouring from her neck as the bird flew from her finger, and she collapsed to the ground. Jerking as her eyes wildly searched the sky. As if asking why this had happened? Why her? Who would come to look for her rotting corpse?

Toby blinked, coming back to reality, the girl was throwing bird feed on the ground so they would gather around her. It was a boring scene really. Except for her. How can someone be so dumb? In the woods all alone…feeding the birds…it was kinda…it was kinda cute. Toby stopped picking the grass and watched. How sweet. He wanted to go up and say something. Something mean for some reason.

‘Those birds don’t even like you. They just like that you’re giving them food’ He wanted to say. Yeah. What did she think she was special? That she was some sort of princess of the forest? Who the fuck did she think she was? Waltzing in her all happy, feeding he birds. After this she’s probably gonna go home and eat a hot dinner…with family that probably actually likes her and doesn’t kill people for a living. Probably go and do whatever she wants tomorrow too because she doesn’t have a faceless man pulling her along like a puppet.

If only those kids who left their windows open and drew things on their hands knew what it was like: The life of a proxy. Sure he saved Toby but if Toby could just do it again he wouldn’t go with him. Toby would just burn and die. End of story. The girl seemed to finish. She stood. She left.

Only cause Toby let her.

‘Yeah.’ He told himself. ‘Only cause I let her!’ He started picking at his nails, feeling a little frustrated. Ignored even. How could she not know he was right here? Whatever. He started to bite his nails, and knew he went too far when he tasted blood. Oops. He wiped it on his dirty jeans.

…

Toby quickly made his way through the trees silently, wondering if he could catch up with her, and he did! She had stopped to feed a bunny. Who weirdly enough didn’t seem that scared of her. The bunny nuzzled her hand and she laughed. Her laughter, soft and sweet like birdsong, drifted through the air, making his heart pound in a way that felt almost… painful. Toby didn’t deserve to hear it, but he stayed hidden among the trees, selfishly drinking it in.

He knew he recognized the sound from somewhere, and now that he was getting a good look at her (e/c) eyes and sweet smile everything clicked.

The princess! From his dreams! The one he saves all the time and talks to. He actually almost stood to call out to her before he realized that he was being unreasonable. They probably just looked similar! That girl was just a figment of his mind he can’t just talk to every girl that looks like her.

⦻

After the next few weeks Toby watched. When he finished the mission he needed for that day, he would quickly dash to her house. She was a simple girl with a simple routine. Tobias loved simple really. His life was anything but. She walks the same path everyday it turns out, just to sit at that rickety old bench. He also picked up on some of her mannerisms. Like how when she’s happy she tends to skip and lean on the balls of her feet, almost like a bird about to take flight, but hesitant to do so? If that makes sense. When she’s stressed or frustrated she walks flat but not just flat it’s almost like slap to the floor. When she sad she tends to mess with her hair a lot. A nervous habit he supposed. She also hums or sings to herself a lot. It sounds…wonderful.

Toby has heard plenty of nice voices before but her voice…it wasn’t just nice or beautiful it was almost…haunting. Like it was something he wasn’t even supposed to be hearing in the first place. As if she was calling to creatures that didn’t exist in this worldly plane. It made his head buzz. In a weird way.

Anyway, he was happy for her carefree nature because it made it incredibly easy to follow from day to day. She never saw him, not really. Sometimes, she’d pause, her head tilting as if she sensed something—or someone—just out of view. But Toby was good at hiding, blending into the shadows like smoke, his eyes never leaving her.

Sometimes, when he was feeling brave, he’d clean himself up, and slap a bandage over the gaping hole in face, he’d even run an old brush through his hair, and wash it, he’d wash his clothes, and head out into town where she was. He would walk past where she was, his head down, their arms just barely brushing, it made Toby’s skin tingle with excitement. Sometimes when she was with her friends, he’d stand nearby and stare if they were distracted enough.

One time, he slipped up. He was doing his usual routine. She was at the arcade with her friend. A male friend but from observation Tobias knew they were nothing more than that. Toby loved the arcade…used to go all the time before the incident.

…

Toby watched as she encouraged her friend ‘Moon’ to win her a prize at the claw game. (Who names their fucking kid that by the way? ‘Moon’ it’s gotta be a nickname right?) That’s when it happened…right there.

Through the glass, through the moving claw, through the people passing through, she looked up once, then a second..very briefly, she locked eyes with him. For the briefest of moments, her gaze brushed his, a spark of recognition flaring in her eyes before it faded. She didn’t know him, not yet—but he could feel the connection, thrumming beneath his skin like a secret waiting to be told. Toby felt his face burn. ‘Moon’ cheered and held up a stuffed animal. “I GOT ONE! (Y/N), I GOT ONE!” (Y/n)….Tobys eyes glazed over.

That was the first time she had even actually seen him. He was watching her again the next day in the forest, she made her way back to that bench she liked so much…he was thinking about cleaning it for her. It was sunny day today, hot one would say. Tobias couldn’t tell. He can’t feel pain, he also can’t feel temperature. Seeing her in the sundress not only made his heart pound, but reminded him to remove his jacket. Masky wasn’t here to rudely yank it off in reminder so he had to be careful not to overheat. Someone would have called the scene beautiful. Sunlight peeking through the trees, leaves fluttered in the wind, bird sung at the new day.

Tobias, hidden away, felt detached from it all. Like all the dark spots of the forest floor were only meant for him. While she deserved to stay in the sunshine…The forest was alive with warmth and light, but all Toby could focus on was her—how she glided through the golden beams, her hands brushing the leaves like they belonged to her. His world had shrunk to the size of her silhouette.

His fingers curled, digging into the bark of the tree as she tilted her head back to laugh at something he couldn’t hear. He wanted to be closer—to hear it, to see her smile up close—but he stayed rooted in place, afraid of what might happen if he dared to step into the light.

He stood, like a frozen statue, waiting, watching…longing…needing. It felt like a need. Like when he needed to drink or eat. When was the last time he ate again? He remembered (Y/n) had french toast for breakfast and spaghetti for dinner last night while she watched her shows and played…sims? (Honestly the things she was doing in that game would be considered questionable but he wasn’t too worried about that while he watched her giggle….and trap random men in her basement it seems.) Just as he came to the conclusion that his last meal was two days ago he saw her stand to leave, slipping away as the wind picked up, slipping the the ribbon out of her hair without realizing it.

As soon as you were out of sight Toby dashed into the clearing, tripping over a root as he did and taking a tumble and grabbing the ribbon into his fist. He laid in the leaves as he looked at it, clutched in his fist, the sun shining down on him as he grinned widely. The fresh baby blue contrasting against his pale gray skin. It’s a sign. A sign of the secret bond between she doesn’t realize they share. Yeah…maybe she dropped it on purpose. Or maybe whatever fucked up force that ruined Toby’s life was trying to gift him something.

Either way it was his now.

And so were you.

(If you guys could comment or just interact that be great I’d love to hear feedback or just parts you liked 🩷🎀 Helps me keep writing if you want another chapter Thank you darlings)

Edit: New chapter coming out Friday, September 27th for those who are interested.

[graceschasity]

yall i love hatchet town so much, why is it so inconsistent?

cause we now know on the demo version the first name drop was supposed to be bill, in the live show/digital ticket/soundtrack its dan, in the proshot its ziggs. the second name drop in the live show/dt/st its bailey, but in the proshot and demo its barry. the third name drop in the live show/dt/st AND demo its karen, but the proshot is charles, and the fourth one, the fucking forth one, on the demo is larry, the liveshow/dt/st is boy jerry, the proshot was gerald, but apparently its been said it was at one point supposed to be GARY?

they werent lying who the FUCK is swinging the hatchet now in hatchet town

[hatchetfield]

Who's swinging the Hatchet now ― in Hatchet Town?

Nerdy Prudes Must Die (2023) - Trailer

[wetcatschwartzy]

i think i know who’s swinging the hatchet now in hatchet town ….. this is a ref to hf rp but can be seen as just grace being grace !!!

[python-nebula]

I am soooo normal about Hatchet Town (lying)

I want everyone seeing this to put headphones to max volume and listen to it with their eyes closed (preferably the live version) from just after Bryce's part and TELL ME that it's not some of Starkid's best work

I LOVE the rest of the song SO much but I feel like that bit specifically captures the paranoia and mass hysteria of Hatchetfield at that point in the musical

(lyric screaming under the cut)

LET'S KILL EM!!!

SOMEONE'S GOT THEIR HANDS ON THE HATCHET HANDLE

SWINGING ON THE YOUTH ITS A HATCHET SCANDAL

CAREFUL OR YOUR KIDS WILL ENCOUNTER A TERRIBLE FATE

WE'RE AT HELL'S GATE

YOU'RE BETTER ON THE RUN FROM THIS BLODDY-LETTING

SUDDENLY THE SHOW IS REAL UPSETTING

IT'S LOOKING LIKE THE HATCHET SUN IS SETTING ON US

WHO CAN WE TRUST?

WHO'S SWINGING THE HATCHET NOW?

CAN I SHIT OR WILL I DROWN?

MAN DOWN DOWN (ITS GOING DOWN) DOWN DOWN (ITS GOING DOWN)

WHO STEPPED ON OUR HOLLOWED GROUND?

IIIIN HATCHET TOOOOOWN

[cherry-cosmoz]

Heart shaped cut | pt 2

As he drags you out of your room you take your knife out of his thigh.

Why the fuck would he even keep you alive,there has to be a catch no way, he’s a murderer for crying out loud.

You snap out of your thoughts as you realize he wants to steal your grandmas truck.

God fucking dammit, “don’t hot wire it just here take the keys.” You start digging through your shorts finding the keys to the rickety Tahoe

“w-well that’s easier” he says, what the fuck did you get yourself into.

He throws you into the truck and zips out of the driveway.

“Where and why the hell are we driving.” You say watching the trees go by.

“there’s a target near here.”

“D-do you know her a-actually?”

“Maybe what’s her name.” You ask annoyed

“e-evelyn Frey she lives like 5 minutes away from you”

Frankly you did know who he was talking about but decided to play dumb

“Yeah I fucking hate her”

“What did she d-do”

“Just drive”

Toby pulls over on the side of the side of the street a few houses down.

Toby gets out of the truck and pulls you out as well

“Walk.”

You both started walking down the street eventually getting to her house.

“W-walk around the b-back her window is there”

You both walk around the side of the house.

You knew her parents were out of town only her and her older brother Keith were home, Keith’s truck was in the front.

You get to Evelyn’s window, she’s asleep

It takes you this long to realize he wants you to kill her.

“Why aren’t you going in.”

“I w-want you to kill her”

Fuck you were right, surely you’ve thought about killing people but never thought of going through with it.

He opens the window and jumps in

Shortly after you follow him in

He tosses you a hatchet.

Static fills your head.

You fall to your knees. “Don’t p-pussy out n-now”

“SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP LEAVE ME ALONE” you scream at him

Tears are streaming down your face, “just let me do this”

“Whatever j-just hurry up”

You bring up the hatchet over your head then bring it flying down.

Crunch.

You let go of the hatchet that’s lodged in her head. You rip the hatchet out from her head

Her long black hair with her grown out roots is now ruined filled with blood and her own brains.

Toby walks out the room probably to go steal shit

You start rummaging through Evelyn’s stuff grabbing clothes and other things you want, stash of weed fuck yeah once you finish raiding all of her things you start to get bored waiting for Toby to get back.

You find one if Evelyn’s eyebrow razors and walk over to her bed, her once white sheets are now a deep red.

You start to carve into her stomach you leave a heart shaped cut.

After your done you turn to see Keith, covering his mouth and holding a phone to his ear.

This could fuck up your plan.

You sprint towards him swinging straight into his chest, he rips a blood curdling scream.

The blood splattering against your face you can’t help but smile.

He’s not dead yet.

You keep swinging and swinging.

You hear his death rattle and watch the blood gargle out of his mouth.

You have blood all over your face and in your hair.

You hear laughing

Toby had been watching you the whole time

“What the fuck did I js do”

You begin to cry again

“F-fuck he was on the phone with the police” Toby bends down to grab the phone and hangs up.

“We n-need to go now.”

You grab your bag of stuff and jump out the window, “Toby what’s taking so long”

“I n-need to h-harvest their kidneys”

7 minutes pass and he’s jumping out the window.

“Why do we need organs”

“T-they are for a friend”

You both start sprinting into the woods

(Time skip sorry!)

30 minutes have passed and your starting to see a cabin in the distance, static starts to fill your head.

You get close enough to the cabin to see a man, he was holding a gun.

It was pointed at you.

Bang.

You fall back to the ground and cover your mouth to not scream.

Toby begins to pick you up.

“S-shit”

He lifted you up as if you weighed nothing.

This was not a great moment to be flustered but you were.

You reach the cabin.

“H-Hoodie what the f-fuck is wrong with you”

“Watch it kid that’s a random ass girl you have. Do you know what the operator would do to us if he saw this shit.”

“S-She murdered two people and she gets symptoms”

Toby drops you on the cabin stairs

As the two argue, you rip a piece of your shirt and bite down hard on it, you dig your fingers into your bullet wound growling and muffled screams irrupt from your throat.

You feel something hard.

Bingo.

You rip out the bullet from your stomach.

Throwing it on the floor and catching your breath.

Blood is leaking fast from your torso.

“God f-fucking dammit I c-can’t not leave you unattended”

A masked man with a cigarette walks out from the cabin.

“You should bring her to EJ”

Toby picks you up quickly and rushes you through the door.

Running to this random door inside and running down the stairs.

“JACK” Toby screams without stuttering

A tall man with a blue mask walks towards toby.

“What now twitch”

“You h-have a n-new patient”

The blue masked man sighs “what do I get”

“Four k-kidneys” he rummages through his cargo pants and throws a bag of kidneys into the man’s arms”

Toby rushes you to the examination table

Your vision gets hazy and you hear static.

AUTHORS NOTE

Yall I had to rewrite this chapter all my progress deleted 😭😭

[patchythecryptid]

I think I've listened to Hatchet Town about 20 times now it's one of my favourite songs from the album, especially:

someone's got their hands on the hatchet handle

swinging at our youth it's a hatchet scandal

And the choreography oh my god I love it lmao I love how they blame Everyone Ever for it

And we get a GERALD APPEARANCE like bro I've been wanting to know who you are for the past five years stfu yeah you might have come in nightmare time but i have NOT watched all of it shush

And it's kind of funny how they care so much about Max and Ritchie dying and have a whole song dedicated to their murders yet when Mayor Lautner goes missing they're like eh fuck you we don't give a shit lmfao

[alpha--arietis]

The last of the Hand-Boar's carcass was sitting out along a flat rock, miles away from the hidden bunker’s entrance. For three days he had meticulously butchered and burned the creature’s body. It had not attempted to rise again and nothing came to eat from its corpse. It had taken awhile to gather all the needed firewood to burn the thing and, even then, burn away the bones. Maybe some parts of its body would be useful but, without a clear idea as to what it was, Aries didn’t want to run the risk of it getting up again. 

The last month had been something. 

[Kind of an atmospheric / character study little blurb. Aries thoughts and a reorientation as to where he’s at (physically, mentally) and what he’s doing. Warning for: derealization, alcoholism, suicide, themes of self harm, and gore.]

He’d dug out a wide pit to burn the carcass a few days ago. Had cleared out all of the dead foliage in that specific spot and had even lined it around the edge with clay and mud to keep anything from spreading. If you’d asked him about three weeks ago what he would be doing with his time, he wouldn’t have guessed this. Then again, if you would have asked him anything three weeks ago, Aries is pretty sure he would have just been picturing a gun to his head. 

But that hadn’t worked. And it hadn’t worked the second or third time either despite his very best (about equal) effort. 

In all honesty - initially at least - Protagonist was a welcome distraction. (He swings the hatchet down against the Pig’s spine, pulling the hips away from the main trunk of the body and, again–) Movie reviews aside, Protagonist had reached out to him annoyed that he’d even spoken to him outside of the reviews at all. That he was “ruining” the concept of the blog. But they got to talking and Aries got his foot in the door with the other. Which wasn’t to say that Protagonist was constantly a delight to talk to or that he was even always nice but. That wasn’t what Aries was looking for. He was looking for someone who would be upfront. 

Tag… Wasn’t that. Not exactly. (And the ball-joint of the leg-arm, now, foot propped up on the “knee” to–) Tag was not honest about who he was or what he did but he was honest about the type of person he was. Protagonist was Protagonist and he had always been that with Aries. 

And so, Aries supposes that his own forwardness had reached something in the other man. Had touched on some sort of shared humanity. (He pulls the leg-arm loose and it comes away with a wet snap. He throws the whole thing into the pit.) The initial plan, as far as Aries could focus on it at least, was that Protagonist was going to direct him out into the woods to build a shelter where he wouldn’t have to pay for anything. Where he could quietly slip away from the towns that had, again and again, turned their back on him. Could slide off the face of the earth comfortably and without needing to worry about anything save for himself. 

Aries had tried to shoot himself three more times while he was out there. It was only a couple of hours. And then hours of driving back to the motel where he would stay for - unknowingly to him - only a couple more days. 

At that point it was just less about the attempt. Less about the concept of suicide and not existing anymore. His most recent revelation about his undying nature was more akin to an open, weeping wound that he wanted to dig his fingers into. Something so remarkable and horrific that he couldn’t help but push, to see. A desire to know. That desire had almost completely overlapped his desire for shelter, for safety. He felt off-kilter, like the world was just fundamentally incorrect in some drastic, horrible way. He’d gone to a place that some man on the internet had recommended he disappear to with the knowledge that it could be a trap. It was too far. 

Tag - as he had taken to calling Mr. Protagonist Reviews - was really the only person he could tell. (The other leg-arm now, coming loose at the joint, skin slightly peeled away from the hip, tossed in as well. The boar would almost be gone soon.) So he did. But he’d phrased it just so. Phrased it as if the gun going off had been a surprise, an accident. Something that Aries hadn’t intended. This duel-reality still sat in his skull. Accident-purposeful. He wanted more than ever to reject the shame that welled up inside of him. Bite back the self hatred. 

Suppose he could have told Finlay but, Aries couldn’t handle not being a person right now. Suppose he could tell Salem, too, but he couldn’t risk it. The information was too new, his humanity - or lack of, he supposes - was still too fresh of a thing. 

But if he had told anyone else… What would they really have done for him? Rejected his personhood entirely? Shrugged it off with a detached casualness? Laughed, even? He repeated, over and over to himself, that the gun going off had been an accident. That it hadn’t been on purpose. But they would know otherwise and it made him queasy to think so many people thinking of him so pitifully. And for nothing to change, too. No one would do anything. Help wasn't coming.

So it had been kind of casual when he’d said it to Tag. Completely unremarkable but followed by an honest “i don’t know what’s happening to me”. And Tag had changed something for him. Had altered his world in some fundamental way that made the days pass a little less tilted. 

(With the back leg-arms finally taken off, he throws the hips in as well after he’s cracked the pelvis in half with the blunt side of the hatchet. He’d stripped the trunk of the body of meat and organs - had burned those first - and cuts the chunk of remaining back into thirds before throwing that in as well. It would burn, it would take all night, but it would burn. He starts with kindling.)

The bunker that Tag had gifted him was… Something. Built by Tag himself, it was hidden in a hard-to-spot area under the ground. It was small, organized, stocked with weapons and food and survival goods; some of which Aries didn’t even recognize. He’d spent the first couple of days holed up, shaking-sick from withdrawal. In bed, most of the time, half delirious. But he’d check his blog, talk to Tag, talk to others. Salem, mostly, if Tag wasn’t around. 

And then, still sick, that thing had shown up. 

(The kindling catches on the oily flesh of the Hand-Boar and steadily the chunk starts to char, spreading the flame to the other bits. He’s had practice with this thing now. Knows how it burns, knows it’s going to start dying out after the initial spread of fire and how he’s going to have to keep feeding it dry wood and other slow burn to get it hotter and hotter. The smell is awful but not nearly as bad as the taste he’d gotten that first day. Horrible thing.) 

It hadn’t been there when Tag had initially been building the bunker. Hadn’t been there when Tag had lived there - and Aries could still smell him on the pillows although he hadn’t said or thought much of it - either. But it had followed Aries out, drawn in by something under Aries’ skin, and had wanted to rip it out of him. Aries is sure Tag would have told him to hide had there been time but, there hadn’t been time. There were still gouges in the metal cover of the entrance that the Hand-Boar had made with its rooting tusks. Given time, it would get in. Of course, he couldn’t allow that to happen. If it got in, his place would be fucked. Maybe he would die or suffer in the process of trying to protect it, but that would be worth it if it meant that the bunker would still be livable. 

With just the pistol in his hand - the rest of the weapons were securely locked - he went to fight it. He had to. 

It had been an utter thrill, hadn’t it? He could feel the thing trying to pull something fundamental out of him. And he could feel it, moving just underneath his skin. Something bigger than his own body but still there, still present. Like it was shoved up against the inside of his ribs, ready to burst. Ready to kill. The sheer, almost giddy delight he’d had in killing it. Even when its tusks had slipped into his throat, gored him open until he gurgled and spat blood, he still laughed. It bubbled up out of him, unbidden, when the thing couldn’t drag whatever it was he had out of him. His body went limp and then alive again. Happened twice - thrice over. 

Delight, too, when the thing started to get scared. When it was Aries dragging it back, digging his heels into the soil as he wrenched the body furiously and felt the bone of its neck - wretched it again and watched - when all the arms spasmed, body seizing - he’d laughed at it. Laughed because it had come here to die and hadn’t even known it. Hadn’t even know that it was Aries that it was coming to. Had just unknowingly followed him out. It didn’t matter that the blood loss made Aries light-headed or that his body gave out a couple moments after the thing had died. He got up again, still bleeding, and leaned over its carcass - deliriously - to take the head.

(Sits on the edge of the fire pit, no longer needing to carefully attend to the burning body below. Uses the fire for nothing because the Hand-Boar’s smoke made everything taste badly, cursed it in some way with rank, slick, oil taste. Like biting tar. Last day he would need to do this.) 

Suppose that the Hand-Boar had more or less been definitive proof that he was now inhuman; if the undying part hadn’t been proof enough of that already. It had died. Horribly. Afraid. Rather than bleeding out again, Aries chose the bullet than waste what little medical supplies he had on- 

Tag had hated that he’d done that. No one else knew. Tag knew.

Maybe the most definitive proof wasn’t that, actually. It wasn’t that he could die or be worse than some unknown thing that had come to kill him. It was that now, whenever he caught a glimpse of himself in the corner of his eye, he could see something bigger than him staring back. Some awful thing that was implacable, unidentifiable. He would look and he would see his face but there would be something in there. Something underneath. Something. Like a part of him had been cored out and replaced. The best approach was to not look or not look too close. 

(The great plume of black smoke that rises up from the burning carcass eventually drives Aries away from the pit. He watches the body burn for a couple more hours, waits until the embers start to crumble into ash, and fills the pit back up.)  

[dailystarkidquotes]

Who’s swinging the Hatchet now in Hatchet Town?

“Hatchet Town” from Nerdy Prudes Must Die

[crearuru]

IVE NEVER KNOWN DARKER TIMES AND I COVERED THE PROTESTS LIVE AT THE HATCHETFIELD KENNEL

(I am Dan Reynolds. With Action News, weekdays at 10 pm)

I hate to relay the news, but the football team might be screwed stay inside watch your children

Cause a losin' streak's comin' (a losing streak's comin'!)

There's a MAN on the loose and he's got a gun! Better PUT out the APB.

the guy has killed 2 if he gets me next make it 3 (if he gets me next i could be three)

We're chasing wild goose and we don't know how! Watch the blame go around

Man down

Down, down

Down

Who's swinging the hatchet now, in Hatchet Town

[bubbleddisasters]

“It’s the end of the world and you’re gonna get your drink on with a Sherly fucking Temple?”

(-Ted Spankoffski)

(When I tell you I was imagining The Guy who Didn’t like Musicals quotes for alot of the Glomas Climax)

Also I now NEED To have Floyd sing Who Will Pray For Me. I NEED IT

ALSO FOR SOME STRANGE REASON I CAN ALSO IMAGINE INCREDIBLY WELL ACE SINGING RICHARD’S PART INSTEAD OF IDIA BUT I CANT IMAGINE ACE AS RICHARD AT ALL, IDIAS JUST TOO PERFECT OF A FIT FOR RICHARD.

Also Man Down Happens in the school cafeteria, and One or two Dorms sing a different part of the whispers.

Heartstabyl: “Somethings got its hands on the Hatchet Handle…”

Octavinelle: “Swinging on the Youth its a Hatchet Scandal!”

Savanaclaw: “Careful or your folks might end up on a Cannibals Plate!”

All: “It ain’t great!”

Ignihyde/Pomfieore : “You’re better on the run than you are hiding….”

Scarabia/Diasomnia: “Suddenly this quiet town’s exciting….”

(Not stating which but I’m been writing a fic and I’ve referenced the guy who hated musicals twice and only one person got the reference so far lol)

Hello Twisted Wonderland community. I have no clue if any of you enjoy Starkid, but this is for the small group of you who do, I humbly present this:

Twisted Wonderland Characters as Hatchetfield Characters

This is for the three main musicals (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals, Black Friday, Nerdy Prudes Must Die). I thought about doing Nightmare Time as well, but there's so many extra characters that I really didn't wanna bother lol. I'm gonna do this like they do it for the musicals, so some of the characters will have multiple roles. However, I might do some recasting depending on the musical, so they might not be consistent throughout the three.

The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals:

Paul Matthews: Idia Shroud

Bill Woodward: Trey Clover

Ted Spankoffski/Homeless Guy: Ace Trappola

Emma Perkins: Jamil Viper

Prof Hidgens: Lilia Vanrouge

Charlotte/Nora/Deb: Vil Schoenheit

Greenpeace Girl/Alice/Zoe: Cater Diamond

Sam Sweetly/Mr. Davidson/General MacNamara: Floyd Leech

Black Friday:

Tom Houston: Trey Clover

Becky Barnes: Cater Diamond

Lex Foster: Ace Trappola

Ethan Green/Chris Kringle: Deuce Spade

Hannah Foster/Tim Houston: Ortho Shroud

Uncle Wiley: Lilia Vanrouge

Wiggly/Gary Goldstein: Floyd Leech

Linda Monroe: Vil Schoenheit

Sherman Young: Idia Shroud

General MacNamara: Sebek Zigvolt

Frank Pricley: Azul Ashengrotto

President Howard Goodman: Rook Hunt

Nerdy Prudes Must Die:

Peter Spankoffski: Trey Clover

Stephanie Lauter: Cater Diamond

Richard Lipschitz/Wiggly: Idia Shroud

Ruth Flemming/Blinky: Kalim Al-Asim

Max Jagerman: Floyd Leech

Grace Chastity: Sebek Zigvolt

Karen Chastity/Miss Tessburger/Nibbly/Stacey: Lilia Vanrouge

Solomon Lauter/Pokey/Jason: Jack Howl

Mark Chastity/Officer Bailey/Tinky: Rook Hunt

Detective Shapiro/Brenda: Jamil Viper

Some of these are stretches at best, but I tried. Most of these are serious attempts at casting, but a couple are just because I thought they would be silly. And, again, shoutout to the three Twst fans who also like Starkid; this is for y'all.

[irons-enough]

June 1881 (Teenage Arthur Morgan)

A short little ficlet inspired by this amazing photo edit by @foundynnel which made me obsessed with the idea of cocky bastard teenage Arthur. Maybe I’ll expand on this one day (Red Dead YA novel, anyone?) but it was fun to write!

Rating: G Tags: Language, teeny bit of blood

Wyoming Territory - June 1881 

Arthur Morgan spat blood into the dirt. His eyes were bright with adrenaline and, just beneath the surface, an unbridled fury. His split lip curled into an arrogant smile as he raised his fists again. "That all you got?" 

His opponent cycled between shock and rage that Arthur had not gone down in one hit. but it was the look in his eyes--the insufferable, cocky stare of a seventeen-year-old drifter with a six-shooter and a foul attitude--that made him swing wide to slam his fist into the little son of a bitch's face. Arthur was ready; waiting, in fact. He raised his arm to bar the swing and with his other hand punched upward into the man's jaw. He heard the crack of bone at the same time the break reverberated through his fist, and the man fell as suddenly and heavily as he had fallen asleep, groaning helplessly as he cradled his broken jaw. 

Arthur shook out his hand, swiped the blood from his lower lip. He smirked in satisfaction at the stunned silence of the onlookers. He made a show of dusting off his shirt and casually picking up his hat from where it lay in the road. “Gentlemen,” he said in farewell, with a polite nod to the assembled crowd.

________________________________________

"Arthur. What the fuck?" 

Arthur smirked at Dutch's greeting as he arrived at their campsite, tried and failed to look innocent. "Well, hey to you, too." 

"You wanna explain why the entire goddamn town is talkin' about some cocky hotshot kid layin' out the local stable hand?" 

"Really? They are?" Arthur exclaimed, his eyes brightening. Dutch whacked him upside the head. "Ow!" 

"Tell me, son, when Hosea and I say 'Don't do anything stupid', what exactly is it that you hear?" Dutch demanded. 

Arthur rubbed the back of his head. "Not much, I guess." 

"Oh, that's evident." Dutch's dark eyes narrowed at Arthur's defiant expression. "You listenin’' to me?" 

"Sure, just not your goddamn sarcasm," Arthur spat. 

"You got some attitude, you--" He bit back the curse that was just shy of forming on his lips. "Susan!" he yelled. "Deal with him. I'm not his goddamn father; not my job to deal with his bullshit." 

"Oh, and so now it’s mine?!" Susan's voice fell like a hatchet even from a distance. Arthur leaned his head on his fist to hide his grin as Susan and Dutch argued over whose problem he was this time. 

Hosea knocked his fist into Arthur’s shoulder, beckoning. “Come on, Arthur.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed as he hauled himself to his feet, as though it was a major inconvenience. He followed Hosea over to the front of the abandoned cabin at their campsite, a decrepit old building with a half-collapsed roof. Hosea struck a match against his boot heel and lit a cigarette as he leaned against the side of the cottage.

“Can I get one?” said Arthur.

“No.”

“C’mon, Hosea...” “Shut up. Get over here.”

Arthur slumped against the wall beside Hosea. He took his pistol from its holster and toyed with it: spinning it around his fingers as he drew, looking down the sights as he pointed it at the dirt. Hosea snatched it from him deftly. “What the hell?” Arthur exclaimed.

“Arthur, you wanna live to see twenty?” said Hosea.

“Who cares?” Arthur’s head lolled so that his hat hid his eyes.

“I care. And you should care.” Hosea’s voice was even now, but still severe. “You’re still a goddamn kid, you don’t know anything yet. Suffice it to say if you’re stupid enough to get yourself killed before twenty, you’re better off dead. And that’s not you, Arthur.”

“You sure ‘bout that?” Arthur mumbled.

“Me and Dutch have things in the works to get us a score. And if you’re gonna be a goddamn idiot and draw attention to yourself, that’ll be the last time you’re involved in anything we do.”

“It weren’t even so bad,” Arthur complained. “How’m I supposed to know you got plans when you never tell me a goddamn thing? Why be a goddamn criminal if you can’t do what you want? Ain’t no point.”

“The point is to live through it, Arthur. Money’s no good to you if you’re dead. Now when we need to lie low, keep our noses clean, it’s because we got something big in the works, and we can’t risk the plans while we’re still layin’ tracks. You know that. You’re a hell of a lot of things son, but a complete fool ain’t one of ‘em.” Hosea dropped his cigarette and ground it out into the dirt. “Not one of us acts alone, boy. Part of runnin’ together means sacrificing your own selfish desires for the good of the group.”

“I know that,” Arthur grumbled.

“Well, it’s high time you acted like it.” Hosea flipped Arthur’s pistol out of his hand with a flourish, catching it by the barrel. He held out the grip toward Arthur. “Stay here a while,” he said. “Somethin’ tells me I need to talk down Dutch and Susan.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do?”

Hosea was already walking away. “I don’t quite care, son. Sit here and do nothing. Be still for once in your life.”

Arthur scowled and sighed, kicked up dust with his boot. For all the stealing and shooting Dutch and Hosea wanted him to do, they sure knew how to treat him like a goddamn idiot sometimes. Maybe the day would come when he could boss them around.

He looked in the direction of the setting sun, toward California where they had come from. There was always new country to explore, new people to rob, more money to be made, more sunsets to see. Every time Arthur leveled his gun at a man and made him act, or freeze, or die--it started a whole new adventure. Some were good. Some were great. Others he wished he could forget, and there were still more that had left him with scars and foul memories that endured well beyond what they should. For the past five years, Arthur Morgan had lived for sunsets like this one, and he couldn’t wait for a lifetime more.