LOOK WHAT HAPPENED,

(  S̶̨͔͙͙̻̖̫͚͋̈͠T̷̡̛̠͙͓̪̪͋̃͜É̶̢̬̝̯͆̽̈́̀̈́̑͘̕P̴̦̙̙̖̲̰̺̘̲̽͆̏̇P̸̡̠̖̃̃̅̒̽ͅE̶̗̗͖͆̂̇̈́̅̇͜D̵̝̼̮̗̞̳̭̙͖̩̑̈̒̿̉͛̕͠ ̷͇̠͕͕̅̃͗̾̀̅̉   O̵̮̲͓̗̦̲̘͂̑̔̈͝Ň̸͍͓̹̀͐́̕̕ ̵̥̞͕̤̈́̇͑̽̓̇̿̓͝ͅ   A̶̻͘  )   𝙷𝙾𝙻𝙻𝙾𝚆   𝙶𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳  .

[hatchetbarbie]

this blog has moved to @enchaentales!

[enchaentales]

it's spring, you're young, you're lovely, you have a right to be happy. 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑.    :    a selective multi-muse featuring a wide variety of brainrot, mainly featuring fantasy, horror, and drama. written by aurora.

[hatchetbarbie]

i still have hope to come back here eventually but for now i'll be doing starkid things at @fallbefore and @nofooltadius <3

[hatchetbarbie]

plotting -> starter call, accepting...  ⭑.ᐟ             featuring;  @talespoken ♡

        she was curious to meet him. chris kringle. ruth was outward with her desperation for attention, grace and everyone else knew it. of course, ruth tried to hide it from her. grace only found out about her mystery man by overhearing, and she had politely chimed in about some much needed advice considering safety and potential hallucinogen use. but ruth caved, eventually.

        “ i always believed her, you know. i’m a good christian, and she’s not a very good liar. it’s truly her one redeeming quality. ”  grace clutches onto the straps of her backpack as a safety precaution, keeping her tethered to her senses in the presence of a broadway star.  “ how’d you meet? ”

[hatchetbarbie]

grace chasity version of this: i can’t fix him but i could fuck him so he gets damned to hell for being so horny for me :) (nevermind that intimacy is a mutual act in which i also consented, engaged, participated, and actually initiated myself, meaning i sinned the same as him. maybe even more) alternatively: i can’t fix him so i will ruin his life for making me fantasize about him

[stellarspecter]

@pscentral event 20: antagonists ↳ THE LORDS IN BLACK in NERDY PRUDES MUST DIE

[tormentherarc-deactivated202511]

they've zeroed in on him from the moment his sweaty, grubby hands slid off the expensive silk and lace they still dress in. eager to cop a feel and only faltering when she catches him in the act. they watch and follow him anyway as he weaves through the crowd, zeroes in on someone faye wouldn't have looked at in high school but now? with the taste of injustice on their tongue and the need to do something other than run, they follow the pair out.

her fist hurts like hell now, the pair of brass knuckles she keeps in her purse glistening red from his nose and her ears won't stop ringing. he's out cold, crumpled to the floor the moment his face smacked against her fist several times and then the side of the building. but he's not important, never was. she counts to five, bites down on her lip to keep from screaming, before she turns to the girl. the pink cast to faye's face blushes even pinker when she smiles, embarrassed almost by the look on her face. she's not one to play the hero; the shadows are too comfortable for that. but there are times when it's absolutely necessary to get her hands dirty.

“ girls gotta look out for each other, you know? ” they're gentle when they take hold of the girl's shoulders, reflexively checking for bruises, scars - anything that screams pain or discomfort. “ you okay? sorry about all that. i think i might have gotten carried away a little. we can just say his face hit the wall really hard. ”

[hatchetbarbie]

        the other’s closeness sends her into a tizzy, the one thing she wasn’t expecting. touch, from the stranger who saved her. she blanches, scraping up to recover. “ i’m more than alright! you really did save me. ”  her eyes flicker to the blood on the metal surrounding their fist, fascination still glowing from her. there it was, and that was supposed to be hers. the soul was all she cared for, the power, but the blood … it was just like church. the blood of christ to feel him inside you.

        “ i’ve never even been to a bar before. ”  she holds up the marked hand, warning bartenders away with a bold x. leftover shame creeps into her voice, grace forces a tremble to her mouth. she knows where all of this comes from, but something stops it from being real. because everything she’d learn, and known, none of it mattered. not for what it was meant to. grace, pure and raging could serve another. gods that actually showed her they were real, and right. they put the power right into her hands, where she could see.  “ this was such a bad idea, i should’ve had a plan. ”  her lords feed her the words, grace starts to let go, and let them speak through her mouth. they say take and eat, the sin of dishonesty doesn’t seem as important, anymore.  “ nobody ever lets me do anything, you know. i’m not even allowed to drink coffee, my mom and dad let me drink hot water, so i don’t feel left out. ”  her bloodlust fades in and out, braided with the old grace, once known by hatchetfield.

[hatchetbarbie]

plotting -> starter call, accepting...  ⭑.ᐟ             featuring;  @playbarbies ♡

        as nibbly weaves in and out the space in which webby is queen, he’s careful not to strum her creation. his sister spins and spins and spins, a trap to catch her brothers in- never any tasty treats for him. it’s the greatest shame, webby’s favorites are always the sweetest. not for vanity, or lust, but the fight stoked in them burns a tall flame, spice to go along with the sweet, potent enough that nibbly could suck it from them. if he didn’t swallow, but it always does. 

        this time, nibbly hungers for something white. bored of the black, of his preoccupied brothers and their human toys. he’s come to find his spider. searching leads to nothing, but it knows how to aid his hunt. the long, pink, furry nightmare tangles into the web, shaking it until the echo bounds across the void. the web tightens around a lord in black, the one who feasts in the dark. a brother knows exactly how to fuss about, get his sister’s attention. he feels her silk against the matted, burned fur.

          nibbly purrs, a wide grin.  “ i’m stuck. ”  its mouth never quivers, teeth smooth as the thread surrounding him as it runs its tongue across them.  “ is it your banana that keeps you? ”

[hatchetbarbie]

#come write lords in black with me i don’t bite (nibbly does but he doesn’t swallow bc his brothers and sister taste gross ❤️)

i've actually spent time thinking about this + "cover our souls with robes of black", confirming that the libs do in fact have souls that nibbly could eat. i've decided the robes of black are perhaps a black tar covering that is yucky so nibbly won't eat them :)

[t-errifier]

𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄, 𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐘. no, he wasn't so slick that he could manage to pull off something so skilled. breaking the lock on the front door with an axe, he had made his entrance to the house a different way than the real santa would have - he was committing the crime of breaking & entering; all under the guise of being SANTA CLAUS. it was something that made him feel just. though, not there to deliver presents - his reasoning was something much more sinister. in the midst of exploring the living room when he was caught by a mouthy little girl. he froze with the axe still in his grasp.

turning slow on his heel - he faces her with a smile affixed on his features. he doesn't look like the man in red; not with his face - paint, but the young woman is rattling off how beliefs in the myth was a sin against her religion. in her palms, a cross - as if that would serve to stop him. he was not a demon that could be warded away with anything so symbolic. cringing at her words, she would wake the parents if she raised her voice any louder; ruining his surprise, an axe to the forehead in their sleep. it was intended to be a calculated murder - one done in the comfort of their sleep. her presence was ruining his chances of having a clean kill.

shaking his head at her, he holds a finger up to his lips. walking towards the girl with heavy footsteps. his boots against the floor caused the wooden boards to creak. he needed her silence. which he wasn't going to get unless he did something drastic. alas, he was there for her parents - not her. she was just an oversight in the plan. looking to the table, he notices the milk & cookies left out for the actual santa. then he looks back to her. so young, so wise - unable to let go of her childish dreams.

[hatchetbarbie]

        the axe he holds is his weapon, and hers is the cross. she has more, too. mother and father don’t keep any weapons in the house. but grace … grace knows where she could find some. if she needed to cause harm, it would be by the will of god. an act of his law, not hers. it’s not her plan, but she will defend this pure home.

        wagging the cross at him for good measure, a prayer ready on her tongue when fury overtakes her senses. the right thing to do slips away, and grace tries a different tactic, no longer upholding the gentle grace of a good christian.  “ don’t you tell me to be quiet! i’m telling the truth! that’s what my mom says. ”

        she watches satan clause’s eyes wander to the plate, and brown eyes widen with a sort of desperation.  “ i don’t believe, no heckin’ way! i’m trying to catch him! ”  well, she wasn’t sure what she’d do when she caught him, and she supposes now she has. he’s filthy, painted in sin, covering himself from the shame she’s meant to impose on him, to force him to repent for his ways. and then he can be born anew in gods eyes! just like she is, and mother and father. they shine in the eyes of the lord, and no darkness can touch them because they will it so. it’s what grace is doing now, squeezing her eyes shut, she mutters a prayer of protection as she steps forward. when her eyes open, they’re blazing and fearless.  “ you should know you’re not welcome here, i already said it. ”  grace folds her arms together, looks the figure up and down.  “ what are you doing here, anyway? ”  his silence rocks into her. he doesn’t call her a nerdy prude, he doesn’t call her weird, he doesn’t shove her off. he just stands there and looks at her. grace makes a decision. 

        she sits on the couch, setting the cross right back next to her so he can’t come close, seeing as he has an axe. it doesn’t take long for her to find a bible, there’s one in every drawer, after all. grace flips to the page she has marked by a graffitied santa sticky note.  “ see? colossians 2:8. “beware lest any man spoil you through philosophy and vain deceit, after the tradition of men, after the rudiments of the world, and not after christ.” ”

[littlemsterious]

thing obsessively about these posts (a) (b) about how horror written by women often uses violence that is inherently consumptive and how nibbly, despite being a ‘guy’ and using he/him presents as feminine

and like I’m sure it was done mostly to use a bright lipstick to draw attention to the mouth but that doesnt make me less feral about this character design I’m absolutely obsessed

[yukisaii]

The reason I love Nibbly is because the Honey Queen episode is so well written and most of it is not about an eldritch god eating people, but about an environment in which women are encouraged to inflict violence on each other.

The hyper feminine appearance of Nibbly just confirms to me he’s more than a god of hunger. In Honey Queen he’s described as a being of passion… which correlates to female rage and repression and how entangled femininity can become with violence, both inflicted and received…

God I need more Nibbly content. The Lords in Black will never not be fascinating

[hatchetbarbie]

plotting -> starter call, accepting...  ⭑.ᐟ             featuring;  @oncecross ♡

        there are days where she thinks she could’ve saved him. even split, slimey, and rotten, she thinks she could’ve. put some kind of bubble wrap around him or preserving resin to keep the apple whole, put together with no missing pieces for the black and white to take hold of. whatever empty parts inside him are now filled with wiggly, and miss holloway has nothing left for that.

        she knows exactly what she is to him, and him to her. wilbur cross is a nightmare that appears every time she closes her eyes, every brutal death he’s put her through flashing behind her eyelids. he is the once human disciple of the lord in black, and he is her enemy, rotten through and through. and she … she means nothing. a pesky bump in the road. but she’ll never stop, and neither will he. he has something of hers, and she’s in his way.

        “ i’m old enough to be your mother, you know that? ”  miss holloway can smell him before she sees him, the air growing slick, her magic quivering to hold her still. it takes a lot not to shiver, as the feeling comes crawling. the strange cold he carries is biting. it’s fear. isn’t it? no matter the center source, their powers were different, unmistakably.

        “ means i’m too old for this fooling around. ”  she grips her wills tighter, like a knife down in her hand, a weapon to be drawn.  “ get out, wilbur. ”

[hatchetbarbie]

meme i made for literally just me

[kelstales-deactivated20250414]

hannah knew that she had no business out here, but the hunch had been toying with her mind for weeks. a girl a year older than her had been recently crowned honey queen, a girl that hannah had surprisingly finding herself befriending. friend may be a loose term, but the two had several conversations, including the girl's confession that she was just going to stay home and go to the community college after graduation. she had been excited to share with hannah that she had gotten in, and she . . . she had told hannah in their last conversation that she couldn't wait to show hannah her dorm. that she was going to keep in touch, even if she wasn't at the high school for hannah's senior year.

the culmination of those conversations didn't make sense as to why she wanted to suddenly ' leave town ' after being crowned, just like the rest of the honey queens. hannah had been digging since then. she had been researching what came of honey queens, and as soon as they left hatchetfield, their stories seemed to stop. it didn't sit right in hannah. the last recordings some cases had seen had been the queens loading up into an suv and heading for the witchwood, where hannah was suddenly finding herself.

sneakers crunched along fallen leaves as she let her senses guide her to a small clearing, one that was set up to clearly be some sort of ritual grounds. she swallowed hard and glanced around as if someone might be lurking over her shoulder before she heard a giggle in the distance. a laugh that had her blood running cold.

" hello?! who's out there? "

@hatchetbarbie / featured muse starter call, accepting!

[hatchetbarbie]

        with a full, warm belly, he’s meant to be satiated. but nibbly doesn’t have a belly, not like wiggly. he’s a mouth, and he eats and swallows and the honey queen sacrifice that’s oh so sweet only keeps him passive. he’s still hungry, and there’s something here for him. the laugh twists into a growl.  “ i’m always out here. ”  the witchwood groggily opens its eyes. and nibbly, his mouth. he settles before her, a waiting predator toying with its food.  “ i don’t need to lick you up to taste your fear, hannah. ”  the wide mouth stretches, a still, eager smile. waiting, still.

        in the black and white, nibbly can be anything. and hannah foster’s never ending pool of psychic energy takes them right there, to nightmare time. close enough to his natural habitat, he wriggles into place just fine, here. her fear like a welcome home mat to a hungry, hungry daddy. its tongue traces over its teeth, feeling for the remnants of his last meal. nibbly takes the form of the honey queen that hannah hungers for using the shallow pieces stuck between sharp bone to create a whole picture of her. feeling particularly sweet, and inviting, and hypnotic, nibbly twirls in her tattered gown. he enjoyed how his hunt looked, the horror plain to see, paired with her sugar spun hair.  “ you don’t smell very much like banana. ”

@anthologis

[deadpoets]

PIPPA FITZ-AMOBI & RAVI SINGH A Good Girl's Guide to Murder | Trailer

[kelstales-deactivated20250414]

there was a new energy amongst hatchetfield high since the death disappearance of max jagerman. it felt like everyone was taking a much needed deep breath, even those that were considered his best friends. there was no listening around corners or timing bathroom breaks. people were talking to others outside of their own circles. it was the reset button hatchetfield high had always needed.

despite the glow of finally being accepted, there was still a harboring, festering guilt in ruth's chest. one that had her throat tight when she sat at lunch with the crew of those who knew what really happened.

" s - so your dad said he's selling the waylon place, right? " she mused. " you don't think someone's gonna notice the broken banister on the third floor . . . or the fucked up floorboards? "

@hatchetbarbie / featured muse starter call, accepting!

[hatchetbarbie]

        she’s saved them. she’s saved them all, and they didn’t even know it. she’s sent one sinner to hell so the rest of the pure, innocent, and faithful could live happy, wholesome lives. and it wasn’t grace who had done it, with a sweeping, final hand. it had to have been god, a consequence for max jagerman’s never ending perversion.

        “ were you not listening to everything i told you about the waylon place? ”  grace snaps, as ruth sheds light and truth on the divine sacrifice that had been made. it sears her skin. “ everyone says it’s haunted, and- and who would want to live in a house with that kind of sinful history? he’s never going to sell it because no one’s ever going to want to live there. ”  she speaks with the same finality, crossing her arms with a pleased expression.  “ i mean, would you live in a haunted house? wait, don’t answer that. pretend you’re a sensible, traditional young lady, like me! ” with a flourish, she puts her hand over her heart, proud of her purity.

@anthologis

[hatchetbarbie]

grace going completely quiet as max dies and not coming out of the shadows. grace being so very still while everyone else freaks out at his accidental murder, until she comes to the conclusion that it was divine intervention that he fell.