#ali don't look

[felixisfruity]

is cannibalism a sin?

[paranormaltheatrekid]

Hi. Please please please read the warnings for this one. I don’t think advertising on here really gets my fics more attention but I do it anyways. Wilbur Cross is cool btw.

[timechange]

MCFLY JULY ‘24 — “i think about it all the time.”

The sound of the bullet bursts in his ears and it hits him square in the chest, pain blooming and bones shattering. It’s Mad Dog, no, it’s Biff, it’s Biff holding the gun, grinning and laughing and laughing, and he’s falling down, down, down as the ground comes closer, closer, closer.

He’ll catch me, he thinks, Doc’s coming, he’ll find me, he’ll catch me.

But he’s not because Doc is lying on the cold unfeeling asphalt of the parking lot of Twin Lone no Twin it’s Twin Pines Mall, dead eyes staring unseeing and unblinking, and he’s alone as the speedometer reads 84, 85, 86, 87 as the ravine gets closer and closer and he sees his grave and Doc’s grave and Dad’s grave and Clara’s grave and Dave and Linda are gone and he’s alone and he and he and he—

He gasps for air.

He runs a hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck. He’s covered in cold sweat, his chest is burning, and he’s shivering.

What the hell?

@doctorbrown ‘s face is in front of his.

They’re in the garage. It was a car backfiring.

That’s all.

“…Doc?…” Marty whispers. To his horror, his hands begin to shake, his vision blurring and colors smearing as his eyes fill up with hot, stinging tears. He tries to take a deep breath but it comes out as a sniffling sob and he wishes he could drop dead on the spot.

“Doc, what’s happening to me?…”

[moonmoonthecrabking]

i know we think grace knows how to bury max because cannibal karen theory means she has helped bury a body (which i also love and support). but have we considered that she may have just read a lot of murder books and fanfiction

[precipine]

"What? No, I'm not... I'm not crying," the twelve-year-old says, struggling around the tightness in his throat in an attempt to sound super cool, casual, and grown-up. So cool and casual he wipes his forearm across his eyes.

What kind of stupid town didn't have a bus station, anyway? What even was he doing back in California? Why wasn't he in Oregon? Where was Mabel?

"I'm... I'm just trying to find the bus station?..." Dipper's proud of himself for how he manages to get that out, even if it sounds a little hoarse and shaky. Then he makes the dumb mistake of actually looking at him. The guy's concerned expression and kindly face reminds him so much of his uncles that he makes a sound somewhere between a sniffle and a sob, the guy's features blurring into a smear of color.

"I-I just wanna go home, man," he finally confesses, hanging his head as tears slip down his face. "I-I don't know where I am, I can't find my sister, I'm really freaking out, and I gotta get home to my uncles." // @doctorbrown liked for a starter!

[boymagicked]

@vicit-vim-virtus queries: ability check + arcana

DND 5E SKILLS STARTERS! always accepting.

The rain drummed on the roof of the cave and Sam gave an involuntary shiver, his cloak only having done so much to shield from the whipping, snapping wind outside. He ran one hand through his hair in a noble attempt to rid it of some of the damp, a soft light emerging from the fingertips of the other. He flicked his wrist upward, the orb being sent aloft to better illuminate their surroundings.

Much to his surprise, runes were carved in the stone. Casting a glance over his shoulder at his companion, he drew near to the wall to take a closer look. Finding the carvings difficult to discern, he brushed away the dust, only to jerk his hand away immediately. He felt like he had been burned, his eyes wide at the sight of the sigil.

The sign of the Reviled.

Malice oozed from every etched line, and if he wasn't careful to keep his wits about him and his feet firmly planted in reality, the young magickian could have sworn he felt slippery, shadowy tendrils curling around him.

Child... Was that a voice? A sickening fondness, a snake slithering toward a bird's nest? You didn't think you could hide from me forever, did you?

"Luran," Sam called out, his steadfast composure rapidly unravelling as his heart flung itself against his sternum. Something was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. "We have to get away from here! Please, it isn't safe!"

A deep, throaty chuckle echoed among the dripping stalactites.

You cannot run from this, little one. A dark form danced along the walls of the cave in the flickering light, a hand slowly reaching out toward him. He couldn't move. Why couldn't he move?

You cannot run from me.

"Luran!"

[annahanover]

tChapters: 1/1

Fandom: Hatchetfield Universe - Team StarKid

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Karen Chasity/Girl Jeri, Boy Jerry/Girl Jeri (Hatchetfield)

Characters: Girl Jeri (Hatchetfield), Boy Jerry (Hatchetfield), Karen Chasity

Additional Tags: Angst, Unhealthy Relationships, Implied Cannibalism, Pre-Canon, no beta we die like the jerries, Hurt No Comfort, tagging is hard

Series: Part 2 of should god or the devil ever ask for me Summary:

Spring comes with challenges and benefits. It's the calm before the storm. At least the bodies haven't shown up yet. Written for day one of Hatchetfield Rarepair Week May: Spring

@hatchetfield-rarepair-week some campfire confession :)

[psychicwound]

cannabalism . as a metaphor for love . you agree .

[cherrieguroo]

what's the most cannibal coded hatchetfield character asides from nibbly

[ella-ashmore]

love is stored in the. um. [checks notes] in the hot immortal girlfriend killing and eating your shitty husband. and then inviting you into her and her husbands relationship

[precipine]

“Are you kidding me, Mabel?” Dipper’s voice is strained, taut with the threat of tears. It’s just as quiet as Mabel’s but there’s a firmness in his tone he doesn’t often use. Especially not lately.

“Why are you apologizing for something that’s my fault? You’re not selfish, I was being selfish! You-you seriously thought I was gonna leave you behind… that you’re not more important to me than pretty much anything else? And I did that to you! Bill… that weird bubble… everything. All of it was my fault! I thought…”

He cuts himself off.

“…It doesn’t matter what I thought,” he says, to remind both himself and his sister. “Okay? Just, please, you gotta understand that this was on me. What happened to Grunkle Ford… Grunkle Stan…” He swallows the lump in his throat. “You shouldn’t feel bad for something you didn’t even do.”

" . . . i'm sorry i caused the whole... thing with bill taking over, " her voice, usually boisterous and loud and quite overbearing is meek, quiet, and almost like she's wanting to whisper it. " i never apologized and i feel like i need to. genuinely. i just didn't want to end summer. i wanted everything to stay the same. it was selfish. "

[berrydoodleoo]

The winner of my Thanksgiving poll: my headcanons for the twins! I've been working on their designs for a while now lol.

I started playing FFXIV in 2019, so in my head, the twins are about 20 years old now and most of the way through their growth spurt. So here are my ideas for how they look, alongside their EW selves.

I have Lots Of Thoughts about the twins and why I picked these designs, but I don't have time to ramble now. I have more stuff with them though so I'll save my comments for then!

[paranormaltheatrekid]

SCREAMING. ALL MY FAVORITE CHARACTERS.

🌈 karen chasity (if she's somehow taken, mark)

7 or 6/10. I do love her the only thing that’s holding her back from a higher score is be wanting to know more about her than we’ve gotten.

My favorite ship is campfire confessions. Honestly, such a good ship name. I would’ve just made it Christian mothers or Kim cest or something dumb like that but it’s such a good name.

I think that she eats people.

[timechange]

@doctorbrown asks: a protective hug (and because i have to)

* HUG PROMPTS. always accepting.

It’s the pain that comes first, a sudden but all-too-familiar shock that makes him cry out. Like a TV switching off, his vision goes and he stumbles, a hand flying out to brace himself against the wall of the garage.

“Doc!” Marty shouts, doubling over as the pain increases, his legs buckling. He audibly winces before squeezing his eyes shut, knowing without having to look down that he’s beginning to fade. 

Reflexively, he wraps his other arm around his stomach. Like that’ll stop the pain of disappearing from reality. “Doc, it’s happening again!” 

If Doc says anything, Marty doesn’t hear it, just a ringing in his ears as his hand slips down the wall with the rest of his body following suit. 

However, he doesn’t hit the ground; Doc catches him, holding him close as if his grip and his stubbornness are enough to keep him here. Fuck anybody or anything that tries to take him away. 

Marty doesn’t like feeling small, but this time he’ll make an exception. 

Just when he begins to wonder if this is really it, he finds himself mercilessly slammed back into his body at full force. However, he doesn’t move from Doc’s grip. Instead, Marty returns the embrace with his full strength, sinking into his best friend's touch.

“The hell was that,” he breathes, before somewhat petulantly adding, “we didn’t even do anything!”

[precipine]

The rift thrums to life, reality ripped open and bleeding technicolor as it falls into itself. He clutches the journal to his chest, bracing himself in spite of all their hard work and experimentation that told him it was fine, it was safe. Stan never would’ve let him do this on his own otherwise. 

He wanted Stan here, he did, but he couldn’t bear to watch his heart break again (and, yeah: the part of him, however tiny, that was still holding onto reality as he used to know it was worried that he may not make it if they were met with another failure. No matter how many times he seems to be proved wrong, he knows that Stan can’t actually do everything and he won’t actually live forever). 

Even now when it actually did seem to be working for once— it was stable, anyway— the sight would just bring back… bad memories. He still remembers it like it was yesterday. M—she’s floating up, up, and away from him. Stan’s begging and pleading. A sickening cacophony screams in their ears.

He still dreams about it, morphed and twisted up in the memories of That Night. Stan doesn’t talk about his dreams, but Dipper’s old enough to guess. 

Hell, he’s old enough to know. 

Everything stops, though, when he hears voices, when he sees an arm and a leg— they’re so small, was he ever that tiny?— covered in neon bandages come through the rift. There’s a winning smile still bedazzled in braces and hair that still probably smells like strawberries and bubblegum pulled back with a headband. 

His legs give out and he watches as that smile immediately falls from her little face, her sweet brown eyes getting big and wide. 

“You don’t have to be scared,” he hears himself saying. Why is it so cold? There’s a flurry of tan and red and black somewhere in the corner and his eyes start to burn, but he only sees her. “It’s okay, Mabel.” 

He reaches a hand up to brush his bangs back, revealing the familiar birthmark.

“It’s okay. I promise.” // @starsandpigs & @slqhv liked for a starter!

[boymagicked]

@ncmad queries: ❝  no,  sit back down.  you need to rest.  ❞ mamma ellie !

ABILITIES & SUPER-POWERED THEMED PROMPTS. always accepting.

Though always willing to be stubborn and put up some resistance, especially when it came to accusations of overexerting himself, all Sam manages this time is a small, soft noise of protest and pain as she pushes him back down.

The boy's electric blue eyes seem to have been drained of their vibrance and he looks up at her through a dull, pale, half-lidded gaze.

"...But did it work?" he asks, weakly. "Did you see him?... I think... for a moment, I could... I could almost touch him..."

His eyes begin to slide shut.

"...I'm sorry..." he murmurs. "...I'll try again..."