#cannibal by ashley

[fictionfolk-recipes]

Did you enjoy a food from your source or canon? Do you want to share your recipe with others? Or perhaps you are interested in cooking new foods you have yet to try.

I made this blog specifically for you to submit your recipes.

The rules?

Substitute fictional ingredients for the closest real ingredient we have in this world.

If your recipe requires human flesh, substitute it please for the love of god. We do not condone cannibalism here.

Also, please note that although this blog is for fictionfolk, I'm not going to ban you from following, replying, reblogging, liking, or even submitting your own recipes if you aren't part of this community.

This blog is run by a single moderator, so please be nice and patient.

[snail-scholar]

TW: YAPPING

ashley being a girl is so important to me it's not even funny.

i think she has become a sort of comfort character for me. her being so wrong, so flawed, so evil gives me a sense of catharsis many other characters failed to replicate.

through her dialogue, her personality, her character... she feels like the horrors of being a woman incarnate. wether people choose to acknowledge it or not, because society expects different things from boys and girls, they're treated differently when they differ from the standards imposed on them. that's why i think ashley's impact would be very different if she were a man, hell, it would probably be a very different story, with a whole new character.

she is the one who cleans the house and cooks, despite andrew being the parentified sibling. she is the one who is insecure about her appearance and sees sex as a transaction. she is the one who has bursting, explosive emotions that tend to be dismissed. she is the one who can't help feeling competitive over other women. she is a nightmare, and instills nightmares on others, all while being our unladylike girl with awesome fat tits.

i was raised as a girl, and grew up autistic. it wasn't great. and although my past differs from ashley's, when i see her i think to myself, "she gets it."

i see a lot of trans girlies finding comfort in ashley too. bpd girlies. girls who were othered. maybe we want the sense of freedom to feel anger about past experiences. maybe she is just a healthy(?) way to deal with the inherent darkness(tm). i'm not entirely sure. but i think there are many reasons women can connect with ashley.

i mean, outside of tumblr she was hated and very few even bothered to look at things from her perspective. and maybe i am ignorant, but as far as i know, the majority of the fanbase outside tumblr is (very) normie men.

they don't even understand cannibalism!

[double--blind]

(SPOILERS) Andrew, Ashley, and their weapons of choice

If I REALLY wanna blue curtain (the curtains are blue bECAUSE THE AUTHOR—) this game, I'd probably say something along the lines of how Ashley's signature weapon being a gun and Andrew's signature weapon being a cleaver are reminiscent of their respective personalities in the sense that Ashley's aggression hits hard and fast, piercing deep like a bullet. The long-distance nature of this attack falls in line with her tendency to easily extricate herself from the harm she's doing while ensuring that it still gets done. She's shoot fast, ask questions later (or, perhaps, never at all), and rather loud and jarring about it. A single pull of the trigger and she's done, the only blood on her hands purely metaphorical.

(The one time she uses a knife, she even uses it like this. A quick stab into each of her parents' hearts. A swift, deadly puncture that bears far-reaching consequences that do not befit the ease of her actions.)

Meanwhile, Andrew's cleaver means he has to get his hands dirty. He's up close and personal w/his attacks—every slash is a decisive action that requires throwing all of himself into the fight—both in line with his need for control, and his tragic inability to relieve himself of the burden of being up front and center to his and Ashley's atrocities. Unlike a gun, it's not one-and-done. It's much quieter, stealthier, but you gotta get real vicious with it—more violent and messy than Ashley can ever get with her gun—something that's so at odds with his reticent, cautious nature that it just throws the silently simmering darkness within him into even starker relief.

[bipanicoverthegravessiblings]

Have I mentioned how much I love these two?

[cannibal-wings]

WIP Wed for You Pay the Cost.

Been a while huh? Sorry about that, I've been furiously rewriting this section. (this is my third full rewrite of this sequence). It's been gnawing at me, it wasn't quite right before. But now I think it is.

Ok, this is a bit of the Water Room/Hall section. Just a bit. The sequence is long and I don't want to share the whole thing.

Trigger warning for my namesake. Leon eats a guy. (It was bound to happen eventually)

He yanked enough control back for himself to leap back to the pillar and then across to the overlook next to him. He made short work of those archers too. His knife was just as deadly as his claws and felt better to use, like the haze was lifting slightly from his mind. His heart had stopped roaring in his ears and he felt like for just a moment, he was going to be ok. Then he heard Ashley scream and all semblance of humanity fled him in an instant.

Leon jumped from the railing and landed hard on the back of a cultist, if he didn’t die on impact the foot claw to his throat finished the job. He looked from the various cultists that were gathered around him. Reinforcements from deeper within the castle. They all brandished weapons, spiked flails and shields, long, curved scythes, and a couple daggers.

Leon ignored them all and searched for Ashley, he spotted her running along the perimeter of the room, someone was chasing her. He bellowed out another roar. It was enough to make the cultists flinch. Leon started to move, he felt different, he felt predatory, his hands weren’t reaching for the guns strapped to his back, nor the knife that was missing from its sheath.

A blade dug into his side, one of the scythes. A cultist had managed to get a hold of herself and struck him, she managed to hit a spot that was still soft, the carapace underneath his shirt hadn’t fully moved in and hardened over that spot. It was luck. The last bit of luck her life held. Leon spun on her, grabbed the blade and yanked it free from his body with a hiss. Then with another hand he grabbed the shaft of the weapon and pulled. For a second, she tried to fight back, her hands gripped her weapon instead of letting go. This got her within striking range. Leon stepped on the scythe, snapping the shaft in half and raised his own scythe like claws. She was dead before she even realized she was in danger. One claw sliced across her throat while the other spilled her guts to the floor.

Leon looked away from the gore and back to the edge of the room. He spotted Ashley, she had lifted her bolt thrower and shot at the person pursuing her. He growled low in his throat, deep, and started to stalk over to her side. But he stopped when the person went down and Ashley again ducked behind the safety of a pillar. He felt a smile break across his lips. She didn’t need him, not right now at least. That meant he had all the time in the world to finish up what he was doing.

He spun on the cultists who had started to advance. That grin only grew wider, he could feel his jaws split and his mandibles pull away from his face. Leon moved much faster now, almost too fast for his mind to catch up, instead he started to rely on instinct, and let his body move without his input. He was able to dodge another scythe, he turned out of its reach and one of his secondary arms lifted itself to block a dagger, he heard the sound of metal and sharp claw clash. He kept his momentum and jumped straight over the heads of two of the shield wielding cultists. From behind he raked his claws across their back, he could feel them snag on bone from the spinal column and he ripped.

Humans, he was quickly learning, were very, very soft. Even infected humans. They were soft and weak and so easy to play with. Now that he was stronger, now that he couldn’t be hurt easily, it was the perfect time to begin to test his own abilities. He licked his lips and swallowed. The sweetness of the water still lingered, he wanted to replace it.

A cultist with a dagger tried to stab him in the back, the blade bounced harmlessly off and Leon turned. The cultist took a step back, his eyes full of fear. Leon could see that he was fighting with himself, trying to decide if he should hold his ground or run. Leon made the choice for him. He disarmed him with a quick slash to the wrist, his claw carving straight through the man’s arm, detaching the hand completely. It fell to the floor but Leon could hardly hear it over the sound of his own blood pounding in his ears. He flared his jaws and advanced on the man. The cultist had a hand over his stump, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. He looked back at Leon and screamed.

The scream was cut short when Leon’s outer mandibles covered part of his face, neck, and shoulder as he bit down. He opened his inner set of jaws, feeling them spread wide too as he chewed through the skin and muscle. The strength in the cultist’s legs fled and he tried to drop to the ground. Leon felt the weight shift and shoved his two clawed fingers into the torso of the man to hold him up. That sickly sweet taste was finally covered up with an addicting salty wash of blood. The cultist under his jaws had died, the last weak pumps of blood faded. He had likely been choked out, either by Leon’s jaws or his own blood.

Leon didn’t mind, the body was still warm, and he was hungry. So hungry. He hadn’t realized just how so until just now. Suddenly all that mattered was filling his gut. He wondered if just one cultist was going to be enough? He had his face buried in the man and didn’t see the other cultists backing up, giving him space. He also wasn’t aware of the archers as they all took aim. If they hadn’t begun to fire upon him, there’s no telling how long Leon would have stayed and feasted.

The arrows peppered his back, and a few of them wormed their way in between his plates. Lucky shots that finally pulled his attention away from the corpse he was eating. It was the smell of singed fabric that got him to look up. The pain from the arrows he hardly felt. Leon dropped the body; it landed in a crumpled heap by his feet. A large portion of the man’s neck, shoulder, and chest were missing. Leon’s jaws dripped with red instead of black this time. He licked his lips but there was too much to clean off, it was just spread around his face. He shook his head and sent droplets flying. More arrows rained down him, he noticed several cultists picked up shields and held them up. Leon simply raised his arms while he looked for a perfect angle of attack.

While he still couldn’t reach their level in one jump, he could grab hold of a decorative banner that was strung up between two of the balconies. It held his weight as he climbed it, his claws leaving tears in the luxurious fabric. Arrows continued to zip past him. Some bounced harmlessly off of his back plates, others caught the fabric, but most missed and hit the wall in front of him. Leon ignored them, they weren’t a threat to him, not a real one, but they could hurt her and that was unacceptable.

He made his way up to the stone railing and hauled himself up and over. At close range the archers were nearly useless. They couldn’t get an accurate shot off, and Leon’s carapace deflected most of the energy in the bolts if they did hit. He growled low under his breath when one did strike him in the chest, but the tip didn’t penetrate, it didn’t even crack his shell. Leon quickly cut them both down. With a loud roar he put one leg up on the railing and looked out over the water hall. He could feel that the cultists were regretting attacking them. He saw the way they shrunk back, how they flinched when he roared.

The stone under his feet cracked as he pushed off and leapt to the next balcony. He felt invincible. He felt good. As he tore apart more archers, he wondered why he ever resisted in the first place? It was a gift and he had been foolish to squander it. He was confident he could protect her now, and forever.

Ashley kept moving along the perimeter of the room. She kept herself out of the line of fire of the archers up top, but she also got the feeling that she wasn’t their target. A loud roar reverberated through the room. She clutched her ears at the sound. It wasn’t like anything she had ever heard before; no animal came close. It was like something out of a science fiction or horror movie. One-part velociraptor screech and one-part big cat roar. After the initial roar it would taper off into a vibrating growl.

She couldn’t spot Leon, he had vanished from view, and she only hoped that whatever it was that made that sound hadn’t torn him apart. There were bodies everywhere. She could still hear the sounds of combat, they were still after something, and the couple cultists that tailed her, told her all she needed to know about the situation. It wasn’t over. Worry was starting to creep over her when another horrible growling roar overtook the chanting of the cultists. She hadn’t heard a gunshot in what felt like ages.

Ashley was moving quickly, away from the edge of the room that dropped off to the second floor. She didn’t like the idea of accidentally going over the edge. But when she rounded the corner to the other side she stopped. There was a cultist with a shield, he was backing up himself, taking cover from something. Then he spotted her and began to hurry towards her. He was speaking something in Spanish to her, that she couldn’t understand. It wasn’t chanted, it almost seemed normal. He was afraid of something and kept pointing up to the balconies above them.

“Leon?” Ashley called out and moved back. In the back of her head, she had considered the thought that it was Leon who was responsible for the state of the room. But she also reasoned that if it was him, then this level of brutality was necessary. The man was still walking towards her, he was still trying to say something to her. By this point another had joined him. This woman wasn’t trying to speak to her though, she was just interested in doing her job.

Ashley hefted her bolt thrower up, it was loaded. She had already taken someone down and retrieved her used bolt. Later she could sort through her thoughts on that action. But right now, she needed to make sure she survived long enough to make it that far. She was confident she could take out the one without the shield, but there was no way her bolts were getting through that thick wood.

Wordlessly she aimed and fired. Her first shot went high and to the side, it dug into the cultist’s arm and she howled in pain. She gripped the shaft of the arrow with one hand and started to pull. Ashley quickly readied another shot and fired. This one missed completely and she took a deep breath. She wasn’t sure if she’d have time to reload, she had to make this last one count. Leon’s words ran through her head and she tried to imitate what he did, how he fired. Strong through her core, through her upper body. Don’t hold your breath, have steady arms. When the woman looked up Ashley shot. This time the bolt went straight into her chest. She dropped to the ground.

Ashley had made it to the opposite wall, she was still wary of the archers above her, but her main focus was on the man with the shield who was still moving towards her. “Leon!” She called his name hoping he could hear her over his own fighting. She would need help with this one, she knew it. Ashley dug bolts out of her bag and began to feed them into the bolt thrower. Maybe she’d talk to the Merchant next time they met about that extended magazine, because three shots were not cutting it. “Leon!” she tried calling out again, a bit of panic creeping into her voice. “Leon I need help!”

The man was too close for comfort now, she debated running straight across to the room to the other side, to put real distance between them while she figured out another plan. She was going to call Leon’s name again but as the words left her mouth something rammed into the man with the shield and pinned him against the wall.

The man had only moments to adjust the shield in a way that let him turtle up behind it, hiding all of his appendages while he sank lower to the ground. Leon snarled and began to tear at the shield with his claws, they left deep gouge marks in the wood. Ashley watched, stunned, as Leon threw himself at the shield, jaws snapping, as the man pleaded.

Leon managed to tear a hole in the shield and he shoved his hand inside to make it bigger. He wanted to be able to rip the shield in two, split it, but his hand was too large to fit inside. He growled in frustration, the motion vibrating his whole throat and chest. The strong wood of the shield was preventing him from getting his kill and he was getting beyond frustrated. He shoved his body weight against the shield, pressing the man into the wall. Then he backed off and heaved himself against the shield again, and again. Then went back at it with his claws. Each one tearing chunks of wood away.

Ashley watched him work at it. She shook her heard. “No,” she whispered. “No that’s not Leon, that’s not… that’s not Leon.” The creature in front of her wasn’t a man, it was a monster. If it wasn’t for the guns still strapped to his back, he would have been unrecognizable to her. He was covered in blood, it dripped from his jaws, it ran down his arms, and coated his hands. That roar she heard earlier was him. The thing that ripped apart the bodies around this room was him. “Leon stop!”

Immediately he froze and turned to look at Ashley. She gasped and ducked back behind the pillar. Her heart was hammering in her chest. The way he looked at her, for just a moment, like she was something to be hunted. Again, she thought, that isn’t Leon. She tried to steady her breathing, calm herself down. When she poked her head around the pillar he was still standing there. He was still looking her direction, only now he seemed thoroughly confused. He tilted his head slightly, his pedipalps raising a bit. The glow in his eyes dulled. “Leon?”

She watched as he opened his mouth, but no words came out, just a warbling sound, and a soft growl. Then the man with the shield decided to act and shattered the brief moment of peace. He pushed off the wall and rammed Leon with the shield. The movement caught Leon off guard and his feet slipped on the wet tile. He could feel himself hit the railing and lean back over it. But he didn’t go in. Two of his hands gripped the rail and his head whipped back to face the cultist. He let out another roar and spread his mandibles wide.

Ashley moved back behind the pillar and put her hands to her ears to block out the sound of screaming and flesh tearing. The wooden shield had snapped loudly, Leon had gotten through, and she wasn’t brave enough to look at what he was doing to that poor man.

---

Hopefully I don't rewrite this bit again. I really wanna nail this feral side of him, and I keep going back and changing things slightly, and redoing parts.

oh ho ho what could have caused this????? Why is he acting like that?? Will he come back to his senses??? I know these answers and soon you will too!

The estimate of getting an update done by tomorrow was uh, hopeful. It's not going to happen. I'm hosting some friends tonight, and I have DnD tomorrow. I still have to rewrite the whole fight with the Garrador after I lost it two weeks ago (I was so mad I just skipped it and started to rewrite Water Room), and I have to do the treasure puzzle room too. Then it's just the last scene after Water Hall. I'm like, 70% done with the chapter, but I don't think I can pump it out tomorrow. So it'll be a few more days.

[someone-random6]

Relatable

[pintsofguinnesmakeyoustrong]

yellowjackets, ashley lyle and bart nickerson (2021 - present) /where the wild things are, maurice sendak (1963)

[roach-snvfflover]

chat id let her eat me

[lewis-winters]

"oh edward ashley is so good in masters of the air I should go watch him in the terror"

the terror girlies:

[highlifeboat]

So much change in 20 years I guess

[suicidal-coffin-boy]

Since there isn't any Tcoaal merch or so i made my own one at school

Each character on one side of a bag,I love it so much,They were meant to be~~🩷💚

[esqueletosgays]

THE WOMAN (2011)

Director: Lucky McKee Cinematography: Alex Vendler

[meltovv]

this episode is called: "Andy and Leyley train to be butchers"

[bipanicoverthegravessiblings]

Andrew: Why do you keep staring at me?

Gabriel, sensing the transgender on this wet cat of a person: I know what you are

[solaceinabandonment]

Ashley and Andrews kids come home from school and tell their parents they learned about prion disease and they're just like

[chekhovs-nailgun]

is it more romantic for a cannibal to slaughter and eat their lover, or to worship their body like a saintly relic? is it more romantic to spare them altogether? is the most romantic thing to devour them slowly and savor their flesh, only continuing after their wounds heal?

if ashley were ever to butcher and consume andrew, it would be an act of possession. (stay with me)

if andrew were ever to butcher and consume ashley, it would be an act of conservation. (stay with me)

they are already devouring each other slowly.