#dead boy ween

[wordingg]

Proud Parents

Dead Boy Ween Day 5, prompt: family

Summary: Crystal is insistent that she doesn't need the dead boys to attend her graduation ceremony. But, Charles and Edwin would never let Crystal go alone.

AN: I got like halfway through this one and realized that schools in the UK probably don't have graduation ceremonies the same way American schools. They might not even have graduation ceremonies at all. BUT I HAVEN'T MISSED A DAY YET AND IM NOT GONNA START NOW SO YOU'RE JUST GONNA HAVE TO SUSPEND YOUR DISBELIEF. okay thanks.

“You guys can’t come to my graduation, okay?” Crystal said firmly.

It was a little hard to take her seriously when she was standing in a veritable ocean of clothes and shaking what looked like a very fancy sunhat at them, but her expression was very serious.

“My parents are going to be there and I don’t want any weird ghost shit going on, okay?” Crystal added. She threw them an exasperated look when both boys just stared at her with folded arms.

“They said they’re going to be there?” Charles asked with a raised eyebrow.

“They gave a very firm maybe, which is practically a yes for them,” Crystal snapped back.

Charles frowned at that, but Edwin spoke over whatever he was planning to say.

“Of course, if you don’t want us to attend your graduation ceremony, we will respect your wishes,” Edwin said benevolently.

“Thank you, Edwin,” Crystal said, with a pointed look at Charles.

“You’re quite welcome, Crystal,” Edwin said with a polite nod.

Crystal disappeared back into her walk in closet to continue to dig for something good enough to wear under her graduation gown. Charles turned to Edwin with a confused frown.

“There’s no way her parents are going to show up for graduation, is there?” he asked sincerely.

“Not a chance,” Edwin said, still watching the closet door. “I checked their calendar and they’ve already booked two interviews and something called an ‘experimental banjo sesh’ for the same time as the ceremony.”

“God, what arseholes,” Charles muttered. “Crystal deserves better.”

“Of course she does,” Edwin said with an arched brow. “That is why we will be better for her.”

Charles’ mouth stretched into a manic grin and Edwin’s own mouth twitched at the edges with infectious glee.

---

The day of her graduation, Crystal was sweating with nerves. She had opted to finish her degree online when her attempts to make up with many of the people in her class that she had wronged had gone badly, to say the least. It was the first time in months that she was in the same room with them. It was a big gymnasium, but it was hard not to notice all the venomous looks pointed her way from almost every corner.

Crystal wiped her palms on the fabric of her gown, but the artificial fabric did nothing to wick the moisture away from her skin. She wanted to touch her cap to make sure it was sitting straight, but was worried about knocking her elaborate hairstyle down. She had gotten up early to arrange her curls into an elegant bun at the nape of her neck. It had been a bigger challenge than she expected and as a result her hair was mostly held together by two dozen bobby pins and sheer determination.

Crystal’s parents had already been gone by the time she was ready to leave for the ceremony, but she tried not to let that get her down. She had just talked to them the night before and they had confirmed their definite maybe for her graduation. She just had to have faith. They probably were picking up flowers or a cake or something. They knew Crystal was very self sufficient and could call her own cab to take her to the school.

Finally it was time to line up and walk out onto the field. Luckily, Crystal ended up in line between two boys that she didn’t recognize and who didn’t seem all that interested in her. They walked out of the gymnasium and into the bright spring day outside. Crystal was briefly blinded, but as soon as her eyes cleared she looked out into the crowd for her parents.

The field outside the gym was absolutely packed with people. There were rows and rows of folding chairs set up for the students graduating. The line steadily filled the rows in, directed by teachers in suits and skirts. Around the folding chairs were metal bleachers packed with adults and other kids alike, everyone snapping photos and waving and shouting things as the students filing into the chairs occasionally picked someone out of the crowd and waved back.

She didn’t see her parents as she walked out, but it was a madhouse. Probably they were there and she just didn’t see them. That was fine. Crystal turned around during a speech started to try and look again and got hissed at by one of the teachers, so she turned back around and pretended to pay attention.

The speeches washed over her like so much noise. She couldn’t have recalled anything that was said even if her life depended on it. Her mind was on the crowd at her back and her parents, the anxiety of not knowing crawling up her throat and threatening to choke her.

Then, finally, they started calling names and it was time to walk across the stage and claim her diploma. The school had considered ‘Von Hoverkraft’ to be her last name, so she had to wait until almost every other kid had gone before she could stand up and walk across the small pop up stage to shake the hand of a sweaty middle aged man she didn’t recognize and take her diploma.

As she did so, a camera flashed from the crowd, loud and bright and briefly blinding her. Crystal felt tears pricking her eyes and it wasn’t just from the bright flash. Someone was taking her picture and she couldn’t help but hope it was her dad, memorializing her finally finishing high school, finally becoming an adult.

Her smile turning sincere for the first time that day, Crystal walked to the other side of the stage and back to her seat feeling breathless. They were here somewhere in the crowd. They had come. They had shown up for her.

A few more kids went up to get their diploma and there was one last short speech. Everyone was itching for the ceremony to be over, so the speech didn’t last for very long. Soon, the ceremony was over and the two crowds (students and families) rushed toward each other, students merging into the bleachers while parents and siblings ran into the lines of folding chairs.

Crystal stood up, but then she froze. She was short in her sensible flats and couldn’t see over the heads of the crowd to find her parents. She started to move toward the bleachers, but it was a wild press of people and she felt a surge of panic that she wouldn’t be able to find them in time, that the crowds would deter them and her parents would leave without her seeing them.

Halfway to the bleachers, Crystal felt a man’s hand on her upper arm, pulling her to a stop. Crystal whipped around, not sure if she should be ecstatic or vicious, and looked into a familiar face. Familiar, but not the one she was hoping for.

An older man, maybe in his fifties, with red hair almost completely turned white and distinguished rimless glasses was smiling down at her. It was Charles in his living person disguise.

“Crystal, this way!” he said over the low roar of the crowd, guiding her away from the bleachers and through them toward the parking lot.

Briefly, Crystal felt irritated. She had told them not to come. But, she couldn’t hold onto her frustration for very long. She was scared and upset and hopeful by equal measures and Charles’ presence was a comforting. She eventually shook his hand off her arm so that she could instead grab his hand in hers and he smiled down at her again.

Charles led her out of the crowd and around to the back of the metal bleachers, where Crystal saw a woman in big acrylic frames wearing a little maroon beret over blonde hair peppered with white. Edwin.

“I told you guys I didn’t want you here,” Crystal muttered. “I have to get back. My parents might leave if they can’t find me.”

Charles and Edwin exchanged a speaking look and Crystal’s stomach dropped.

“We weren’t going to come,” Charles started to say. Crystal realized suddenly that he was wearing a big old fashioned camera around his neck by a strap. She swallowed around a lump in her throat.

“But, we also weren’t about to leave you here alone if they didn’t come,” Edwin said quickly.

Crystal felt her eyes filling with tears and firmly told herself not to blink. If she blinked, they would fall and if they started to fall, they might never stop.

She looked at Edwin. Edwin would tell her the truth, even if it hurt. She could trust him to do that for her.

“I’m sorry, Crystal,” he said quietly. “I followed them all morning. We only came once we were sure they were not going to make it to your graduation ceremony.”

It didn’t matter that Crystal hadn’t blinked, the tears began to fall anyway. She dashed them away viciously but they just kept falling.

“God, you must think I’m so naive,” she laughed. “You must have wanted so bad to tell me how stupid I was being. So, go ahead. Say it,” she glared at Edwin, but he only stared evenly back. “Say I was stupid for believing in them! You would be right!” she cried.

“Crystal Palace, you are the farthest thing from stupid,” Edwin said, like it was the most factual thing in the world.

“You’re a good daughter,” Charles said gently, “and you love your parents. That’s not a fault, Crystal. It’s admirable that you keep trying.”

The tears were coming faster now and Crystal gave up on trying to preserve her mascara and eyeliner and instead rubbed at her eyes, probably smearing black makeup everywhere.

“Eds! The flowers!” Charles whispered while Crystal tried desperately to get her tears under control.

She heard rustling and then when she opened her eyes it was to a huge bouquet of lilies, big pink ones with little brown spots exploding out from yellow centers, filled in all around with delicate baby’s breath.

“You got me flowers?” Crystal wobbled, fresh tears threatening to fall.

“And a balloon, but I sort of forgot those things float and it got away from me,” Charles said with a hangdog expression.

Edwin sighed at the mention of the balloon, but shook it off quickly. He stepped in to run his thumbs delicately under Crystal’s eyes, clearing away the smudged makeup along with a few stray tears.

“And, we will be taking you to that awful raw fish buffet that you like,” Edwin said as he cleaned up her makeup here and there.

“It’s called sushi, I know you know that. And, I don’t think they’ll let you come in if you aren’t going to eat anything,” Crystal sniffed.

“I dare say you will eat enough raw fish for the rest of us,” Edwin said, dry as the Sahara desert.

“And, we’ll tell everyone within hearing distance how proud we are of our amazing daughter who just graduated from high school!” Charles added with a grin.

“Yes, she’s quite amazing,” Edwin said, stepping back and judging Crystal’s makeup good enough so long as she didn’t start crying again. “Neither of us ever finished high school. She’s the first in our family to do so.”

“We’re proud parents, we are,” Charles said, elbowing Edwin with a grin that earned him an eye roll and a reluctant smile.

“You guys…” Crystal trailed off, sniffing. She clutched the flowers closer to her chest, the paper crinkling against her graduation gown. Golden pollen smeared against the cheap polyester and stuck to it, but she couldn’t possibly bring herself to care at the moment.

“Please, Crystal, no more tears. I just fixed your mascara,” Edwin complained, stepping in again to fan at her face with his hands like maybe he could dry the tears before they fell.

Crystal hiccuped around a sound that might have been a sob or a laugh, even she wasn’t sure. She threw her arms around both of their necks, drawing Charles and Edwin into a group hug. The bracketed her sides and the flowers crinkled against their backs. She felt their arms settle around her waist, their heads tilted against her own.

“Thanks, you guys,” she said thickly.

“Of course, Crystal,” Edwin whispered back.

“Anytime,” Charles agreed.

[enby-calamity]

Happy dead boy ween everybody

@deadboyween thank you for the event<3

[yourgaydads]

killed two birds with one stone! i hope you like it!

[venzilanddeathcult]

ALL TIME FAVORITE ALBUMS CHART

2023 is basically ending and i dont think theres any upcoming album thats going to absolutely shatter my perception of music (most recent one would be ants from up there my beloved) so i made a chart of all my favorite albums ever forever adn ever but 4x4

so thats that

ALBUMS IN (loose-ish) ORDER

O Terno - Melhor Do Que Parece

Slint - Spiderland

The Mars Volta - Frances The Mute

SWANS - The Seer (!!!!!!!)

Ween - Quebec

The Beach Boys - Pet Sounds

Milton Nascimento & Lô Borges - Clube da Esquina

TOOL - Lateralus

Have A Nice Life - Deathconsciousness

Les Rallizes Dénudés - '77 Live

Queens Of The Stone Age - Songs For The Deaf

Dead Kennedys - Plastic Surgery Disasters (And In God We Trust Inc., that one's equally amazing)

Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here

Nirvana - In Utero

Ween - The Mollusk

Pixies - Doolittle

[mistpodfics]

Discovering Fear and Love written by benjaminrussell | @benjaminrussell

A Dead Boy Detectives/The Raven Cycle Podfic read by mistbornhero for 🎃 pod-o-ween 👻 filling the challenge 👻 chill 👻and the podfic-bingo square 🎙️ polyamory/polycule 🎙️

On their road trip, Gansey, Blue, and Henry end up in England, and while looking for a ley line, they find a pair of ghostly detectives instead.

Podfic Length: 24:25 minutes

[that-trans-autistic-guy]

yall i didn’t realize an entire day of dead boy ween was themed with “orb” oh my gods what have i done to this fandom 😭

(and to my phone, it autocorrects to the orb names lmao)

[toopimpabutterfly]

making my INTRO!!!!! or this is my intro. ykykyk. (meet my shitty way of designing intros and stuff too,)

HIHI call me Jésus I'm 16 Apache Mexican American. With some other stuff cause yeah. just mentioning that cause. I will say a lot of stuff yk. I'm autistic and scitzohenic but PLEASEEEE I NEED FRIENDS and PEOPLE TO talk to about my current interests!!!

MOVIES

Oh to go. on ABOUT THIS.. here's my letterboxd I fucking love movies.

DOGMA, MOONLIGHT, CLERKS, NATURAL BORN KILLERS, GOOD WILL HUNTING, FIGHT CLUB, NAKED LUNCH, FEAR AND LOATHING IN LAS VEGAS, CONSTANTINE, HELLBBOY, GUMMO, MAD MAX + FURIOSA, GODZILLA, I SAW THE TV GLOW, AVATAR, JACKASS, MID 90S, STRAIGHT OUTTA COMPTON, I LOVE YOU PHILIP MORRIS, WEEKEND AT BERNIE'S, FRIDAY, THE MATRIX, JAY AND SILENT BOB STRIKE BACK, THIRTEEN, REQUIEM FOR A DREAM, TRAINSPOTTING, THE PEOPLE VS LARRY FLYNT, DUCK TILL DAWN, THE WATERMELON WOMAN, DONT BE A MENACE TO SOUTH CENTRAL, BOYZ IN THE HOOD, 12 MONKEYS, MENACE II SOCIETY, WATCHMEN,MALL RATS, KIDS and a lot more.. coughs.

TV SHOWS

PREACHER, THE BOYS, THE MAXX, ÆON FLUX, THE BOONDOCKS, LOITER SQUAD, CLERKS ANIMATED, AQUA TEEN HUNGER FORCE, BOJACK HORSEMAN, BEVIS AND BUTTHEAD, JACKASS THE SERIES, SMILING FRIENDS, THE ERIC ANDRE SHOW, FUTURAMA, KING OF THE HILL, MORAL OREL, BLACK DYNAMITE, HOME MOVIES, SPACE GHOST COAST TO COAST, THE OBLONGS, and more stuff again. Assume that a lot tbh.

MUSIC

THE BUTTHOLE SURFERS, KENDRICK LAMAR, ICE CUBE, N.W.A, BLACK FLAG, DEAD KENNEDY'S, LEONARD COHEN, NINE INCH NAILS, OUTKAST, TYLER, THE CREATOR, NAS, DR DRE, BONE THUGZ, QUASIMOTO, EAZY-E, KMFDM, ALEX G, WEEN, CHEMLAB, JANE'S ADDICTION, GERMS, ANGRY SAMOANS, NEW ORDER, JOY DIVISION, COWBOY JUNKIES, JESUS LOVES JUNKIES, PIXIES, DINOSAUR JR, HOOTIE AND THE BLOWFISH, THE VELVET UNDERGROUND, THE DEAD MILKMEN, NECROS, CIRCLE JERKS, HOLE, and a lot more. I love hardcore punk, crust, hip-hop, rap, and basically everything tbh.

MISC + FIXATIONS

I love comics like the Punisher, The Maxx, Preacher, Bratpack, the clerk's comic, Watchmen, Hellboy, little things. I like reading, TOO . I LOVE HUNTER S THOMPSON!!! Mostly Fear and Loathing in las Vegas, Hell's Angels, and the Campaign Trail 72, and other books like Revolt of the Cockroach People, Get in The Van. Little books like that sorta. GAMES TOO I like Faith the unholy Trinity, DOOM, POSTAL, GTA, DUSK, and a few others!

I collect DVDS, games, VHS tapes, books, CDs, records, laser discs, literally any piece of physical media . All of it. I like conspiracy theories, civil rights activists, some art history, Malcolm X. I'm a punk I go to local shows and stuff and might sometimes post that when I can. I have a HUGEEE fixation rn on Dogma(1999) and Kendrick Lamar. But I heavily enjoy the viewaskew universe rn and want to interact with more of the little fandom please... my dad got me into the movies and we watched them all together n stuff. I do powerlifting as a hobby and like to go on walks around my town and say nonsense please interact. I will post whatever I want here really tbh.. BYE.

TAGS!!!

#toopimpabutterfly <- tag for everything I post

#TPAB lyric posts <- me lyric postin, nuff said.

#TPAB rants <- mostly vent or ranting about my horrible life. how fun

I got socials too, discords are irlwillhunting MAIN and h0peeradicated as alt. My Instagram is topimpthebutterfly . Spotify is here .

[ghostboyhood]

INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT

A boy lays in his bed with headphones on listening to the same song he has been for hours. His eyes are sunken in and he is visibly tired.

The camera pans to the boys face. He sighs, looks directly into the camera, and closes his eyes.

Cut to black.

☆ Name - Ghost / Kurt / Matt

★ Pronouns - He/Him

☆ Sexuality - Queer

★ heyy!! this is mainly a place of whatever my current hyperfixation,, i talk a lot about a lot very incoherently so bear with me..

☆ my dms are open but if you make me uncomfortable ill just block you! i do enjoy talking to people, i just have a rough time starting conversations because i dont want to be annoying.. i also have a very hard time getting my thoughts into coherent sentences.. but dont hesitate to dm or send me an ask !! oh and close moots can ask for my insta <3

★ right now im really into green day and my chemical romance!!! im currently watching white collar !!

☆ i love tv show and movie recommendations,, i cant guarantee ill watch it 100% but i bet ill eventually get to it one day.. i plan on watching succession, the good place, and interview with the vampire sometime.. i also love talking about tv shows/movies with people so Pleaseee talk to me about ur interests or my interests or whatever, i luv listening to ppl infodump!!!

★ some other things im into areee - house md, its always sunny in philadelphia, breaking bad, bobs burgers, good omens, all of john mulaneys specials, velvet goldmine, brokeback mountain, rocky horror picture show, saw (2004), fight club, dead poets society, a quiet place (all three), deadpool (+ wolvie), the outsiders (book mostly), many more movies just ask, life is strange, i plan on beginning detroit become human, dan and phil, danny gonzalez, kurtis conner, drew gooden, markiplier, and a lot of other things i just.. havent written down

@faileddog ^ (mona, joel, and i watching american psycho)

☆ i love love love love music with my whole heart,, i listen to most genres but i go through phases of only listening to specific songs/genres/albums/etc

★ my favorite artist is vundabar!! they have been for years now i love them so much

☆ right now ive been in a slight music rut so ive been listening to the same songs over and over on my main playlist i have..

★ some artists i like include - they might be giants, pure sport, ween, the frights, stephen sanchez, my chemical romance, green day, david bowie, the beatles, nirvana, system of a down, sign crushes motorist/birth day, lord huron, the magnetic fields, alex g, deftones, childish gambino, twist off!, etc etc

☆ if u wanna go listen to any of my playlists ☆

★ hmm what elsee,, im really into punk rock n i go to a lot of punk shows!! concerts are like my favorite thing and ive seen 20+ people live <3

☆ as i said i luv movies, i want to work on movies one day as a cinematographer or maybe even director.. my dream is to make my own movie. i would also like to be a concert photographer because i love photography and yeah!!!

★ ouhh i also love queer history, history in general but mostly queer history.. i love learning about the past and how life was for people.. im mainly intrigued by like the 70s-90s but honestly anything in the 20th century..

☆ i could talk about some of my favorite characters for hours,, i get Really invested in usually one show at a time though so its hard to invest myself in things that arent.. that fixation

★ i dont wanna write down all the guys i like but you'll definitely be able to tell because i wont shut up about them and my reblogs will mostly be them...

☆ credit- @hopelesshardrockfan for my banner

[f1-disaster-bi]

Spooky/Autumn Prompts

"It was a dark and stormy night." "It's literally 76 and sunny outside."

For norstappen? <3

"It was a dark and stormy night.....", Lando lowered his voice, speaking dramatically as Max watched him from the doorway. There was nothing he loved more than watching Lando read to their children. Their twins eyes were laser focused on Lando, watching and waiting for Lando to do all the voices that they loved. Lex was clutching his stuffed dog close to him, mouth a little open as he hugn on Lando's every word. Sam had his blankie pulled around him and thumb in his mouth. They had been working on weening them off of their dummies, but when Sam was tired, he always put a thumb or fingers in his mouth. Max could have easily walked across the room to gently pull it from his mouth, but he didn't. He didn't want to disturb the magic Lando was weaving as he continued on with a toddler friendly Halloween tale. Halloween was all that the twins were talking about now that they were a bit older and understood it. They already had their costumes picked and hanging in their wardrobes, just waiting for their pre-schools Halloween party before the break and Max knew Lando had his camera ready to capture as many pictures as possible. After another few moments, Max finally stepped away from the doorway to help Lando settle the boys down for their nap. It was easy to do. They took after Lando in that once they were asleep, they were dead to the world. "A halloween story? On a day like today?", Max teased softly as he wrapped his arms around Lando, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "It's literally over twenty degrees outside and sunny" "It's still spooky season", Lando whisper argued back at him, "And everyone loves Meg and Mog" Max didn't argue back as Lando pulled him out of the room with one last lingering look back at their sleeping boys.

[tea-moon-ster]

Fic-O-Ween: Day Twelve

From the Zombie AU created by Haz.

Remus is back at camp from a mission.

Logan arrives at the camp with questions.

Mars was Patient Zero.

prompts and card belong to @noots-fic-fests, and characters to @lumosinlove. raiting: . read it (and find more notes) on ao3 here.

warnings: mentions of death, injuries, weapons and, I mean, things you'd see in a zombie apocalypse.

Remus was…tired. So tired. He was sure he was still walking out of sheer reflexes by that point. One foot in front of the other. Again and again. The dull swinging back and forth made his dog tags bounce against his chest in an unnatural silence. Celeste had wrapped them in tape to reduce the noise—one of the few things that would have given them away even on a clear day.

At his side, Sirius, Jackson and Evgeni marched in silence. James had been kicked out of the mission team ever since Lily had shared the news.

At his side, Sirius hid a yawn. They were all exhausted and looking forward something that resembled a bed, all still shocked for what they had seen. For what they had done.

Must have done, Remus reminded himself. That’s how the world spins now.

No one blamed him, he knew that. But it didn’t really matter, as long as he blamed himself, did it?

The man hadn’t looked older than thirty.

He’d tried to ease the tension as he fought back pain. As Remus, syringe in hand, warned him for the tenth time about the risks. It was experimental, it might just have accelerated the process, it might have caused even more pain.

That’s where the smile of the man had sobered. He’d looked Remus in the eyes—big, brown eyes— and nodded. Listen, man, I’ll be dead in a few days anyway. If this can give you a small push in the right direction, it’s enough for me.

He’d looked down at the belts tying his legs and arms in case the virus decided to act too quickly. The bite by his neck hadn’t stopped bleeding, and it was too close to the brain for the spreading to proceed at a normal pace. The veins around the wound had been darkening, creating a small galaxy together with countless freckles and the three planets tattooed on is collarbones.

Just…just do what I asked you, yeah?

Remus patted the pocket of his vest, where an SD card was secured. All that was left of the man. He hadn’t wanted to tell him his name. Easier for both of them, he’d said. Remus had died to insist, but he couldn’t. The man was already doing so much, by simply letting Remus inject what was a first try of the cure, a draft and nothing more, in his failing body.

A small smile, and warm eyes.

Call me Mars.

The only thing Remus had caught was a last name, printed on a document he’d found on the floor, close to a wallet. It had only been a quick snoop, and had he lifted the dust covering the other half, he would have discovered the name, too. But a man’s dying wish was too sacred to ignore, and so he’d resisted.

There had been so many things lying messily next to the young man. That’s how he’d found him. Sat down against a wall, looking through his things, a soft smile and gun in between his crossed legs. One last look before losing control. Before the end.

Don’t worry. When I start to feel too happy, I’ll know it’s time.

A picture. It showed a younger, less haggard and pale version of the stranger, hugging a boy so similar in the smile, the hair, the eyes. A tissue with a pink lipstick print on it. A camera. A fading receipt from a luxury restaurant downtown Remus always passed on his way to lectures. A sticky note with a messy heart drawn on it.

They’d talked, for a while. The man had told him about his life from before. Engaged, a cat dad, had been on a surprise trip on Day Zero. Remus, in turn, had explained about the camp, the missions, and his mad research for a cure. The man had listened attentively, nodding as the veins in his arms began to darken and cramps jerked him more and more often.

Warm eyes had set on him with a firm, calm focus. This cure. Do you have it here with you?

Remus hadn’t even thought of proposing it. He knew it wouldn’t work, it was too soon, he didn’t have the necessary data, studies, experience. But what he did knowwas that there wouldn’t be any progress at all without testing it directly on infected individuals first.

Come on, Doc, he’d smiled. What’s the worst that could happen? I’m dying anyway.

Mars had been his patient zero. If his search for a cure was finally on phase one, that was thanks to him.

“You’re good, Doc.”

At the end of October, the air was no longer chilly or crispy. Remus could see his breath as he got his hoodie back on, and then his pants. Total body examination to everyone who entered the camp, that was the new rule. At his side, Sirius was buttoning his old flannel—his father’s, he’d said. Remus closed his eyes, hoping that the dark would come soon, so he could have had that body curled up around his own. To keep him warm, safe, and away from all the shit of the past few days.

“Merci, Talker,” Sirius nodded as Thomas gave the thumbs up for them to be let in. “So, anything new?”

Thomas walked with them as they crossed the camp, nodding to a new tent as he lit up a cigarette—probably stolen from Kasey. “Two new refugees arrived this morning.”

“City?”

“Yeah.”

“Had them tested and interrogated already?”

“Why no, I invited them in for tea and then decided they were cool enough to stay.” Sirius didn’t reply, and Thomas continued. “Both males, early twenties. One has a fever, but no signs of wounds or bites.”

“Thomas.”

“Three people checked him, Cap. If you want to be the fourth, feel welcome.” Sirius rolled his eyes. “But I think he could use your magic, Doc.”

Mars had been so pale. So, so pale. Feverish, sweating, with dark circles under his eyes.

He touched the tattoo on his forearm. I’ll have to get another cross added.

“Remus?” Thomas repeated.

So many crosses.

Remus nodded. “I’ll take a look.”

He felt Sirius’ hand on his shoulder. “You’ll have something warm to eat first.”

“Is the other boy okay?” Remus asked, pressing against Sirius’ hand.

Thomas shrugged. “Physically? Yes. Mentally? He’s a feral animal. Keeps getting out of the quarantine tent to ask around for this—"

Before Thomas could finish the sentence, Remus felt another grip on his arm—one that didn’t belong to Sirius. He turned, heard Sirius embracing his rifle, and all he saw for a second was green.

Wide, terrified, tired green eyes.

“Have you seen this boy?”

“Dear fucking God, Tremblay—”

“These are the ones who went to the city, yeah? I need to know—"

The boy in front of him shook Thomas’s hand off his shoulder, eyes darting from him to Sirius as he shoved a polaroid in their faces. Remus blinked, taking a step back. Maybe hallucinating. Fifty hours without sleep and with just a bunch of granola bars in him—it made sense he was seeing things.

Sirius and Thomas were both arguing with the newcomer, explaining camp rules in what, judging by Thomas’s voice, seemed to be a repeated conversation. But the boy, while shorter than them by several inches, seemed determined, and cursed back in French. He moved past them to reach Remus, and pushed the picture in his hands.

“Finn O’Hara, 6 feet tall. Redhead, freckles, maybe glasses? Any other refugee from the city who looks like him?”

Thomas groaned, taking him by the back of the collar of his Nasa t-shirt. “Tremblay, enough. We took you and your friend in, we’ve shared our supplies with you, I’ve been more patient than a saint. But I will throw you out if you don’t stop jumping on people. Now go.”

Tremblay took a step back, looking at the ground. He nodded.

But Remus shook his head.

“Wait. Wait, let me see that picture again.”

He rubbed his eyes four times.

He looked at it in different lights.

But it was like seeing a ghost.

Remus stared at the name behind the picture. Finn O’Hara. 25, 6 ft, blood type 0+. Freckles, birthmark on hip, silver necklace.

Without realizing it, his fingers were creasing the polaroid. A weight crushed his chest.

Mars?

His eyes made a monumental effort to find Sirius’. Words wouldn’t come to him. He clenched the picture.

“Wait, you’ve—you’ve seen him,” Tremblay semi-screamed, pointing a finger at him. “Tell me everything, now—”

Remus stared at him, then at Sirius again. He handed him the picture. Sirius paled.

“Oh.”

Tremblay looked in between them furiously. “Oh what? Qu’est-ce qu’il se passe, alors ? Is he in the city?”

Remus bit his lip. What were the chances?

Sirius cleared his throat, placing a hand on the newcomer’s arm. “Mon ami, je suis desolé…”

“Non!”

Tremblay took a step back, as if burned by Sirius’ words. “No! I say no!”

Remus closed his eyes as Sirius quietly explained something in French. He heard a thump to the ground, and an inhumane scream of pain. Tremblay screamed the boy’s name, and implored, denied, hurt, in different languages.

All Remus could see of was the still body in front of him after the loud shot. He’d—he’d had to stay even after. To take notes of the cure’s post-mortem effects. Deafening silence, red against white, life and then emptiness.

People around them began to approach Tremblay, kneeled on the ground with a mortified Sirius.

Remus just stood there, petrified by guilt. The red of Mars’ blood had been different from the one of his hair, it wasn’t right…and someone had been looking for him the whole time…oh God, the engagement…and they’d been so close. So close to seeing each other again, for one last goodbye.

Oh God, what have we done?

Remus was sure he was going to be sick when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It took a while, but then a familiar face appeared among the fog.

“Doc? Remus, you okay?”

Kasey’s worried eyes were on him. “Hey, hey, what happened? What’s going on?”

Natalie appeared next. Her huge headphones were still around her neck—they must have heard them from the radio station. She brought a cool hand to his cheek. “Loops, it’s okay. Breathe.”

But all he could see was Mars.

Remus was now sitting down with a bowl of warm soup in his hands. Tremblay had a blanket around his shoulders, and was staring into the void. He hadn’t spoken a word since the news—maybe out of voice. Their friends had formed a circle around the fire—it was getting dark, and cold. Natalie was circling his back. She hadn’t brought her guitar to the fire like any other night. Everyone was still shaken by the events of that day.

Sirius was explaining what they’d seen during the mission. How they’d found the man in an abandoned building, the bite on his neck, how he’d asked to be injected. The gunshot that had followed. Remus still had the SD card in his pocket—Mars’ legacy. Watch it once you’re back at your camp, I explain everything in the video in here.

“And he didn’t tell you his name?” James asked.

Remus shook his head. “No names. He just told us to call him Mars.”

Remus felt the hand on his back still the same moment Kasey chocked on his soup. His eyes darted on him like his rifle on zombies approaching the camp.

“Mars?”

At Remus’ side, Natalie whispered a what.

Kasey cleared his throat, blindly reaching for his pack of cigarettes. “Doc, did, huh—did this Mars have any tattoos?”

Before Remus could answer, he felt Natalie’s breathing hitch. “Kase, sit down.”

Remus nodded a few times. “Yeah. Something on the collarbone, I think. Close to the bite. Planets or something.”

Kasey got up, letting the full bowl fall to the ground. “Mars as in Mars, Saturn and Venus? Was that the tattoo?”

Natalie’s eyes widened as she also stood up, gripping Kasey’s arm tight. Too tight. She shook her head. “Kase, no. It’s not him. Leave it.”

Kasey ignored her. He took his knife from its case on the belt, and tore his pants across his thigh, revealing a tattoo—the exact same tattoo. Three planets lined up, only one of them in colored ink. For Kasey, it was Saturn, a blue sphere and ring in the middle. Remus now remembered the red on Mars’ collarbone.

Sirius gasped.

Kasey stood still, taking in their silence and what it meant. Remus could only nod, his head beginning to spin again.

“Finn doesn’t have a tattoo.”

They all turned to look at Tremblay, voice hoarse and eyes still pointed to the fire.

“Alex does,” Kasey said.

Natalie’s head snapped on him again, eyes red. Her hand was now clenching her own shoulder—it was covered, but…

 “Kasey, stop it. He was in Florida, Florida-”

“Then why can’t you reach him in any way? Phone, radio, GPS?”

Natalie flinched, apparently hit on her weak spot.

He gently took her face in between his hands, and Remus saw that he’d started crying. “The anniversary was in two days. Two days after Day Zero.”

“Kase, no. No, please, no. Don’t say that.”

Kasey’s shoulders were now trembling. He touched their foreheads together. “You know he’d try to be there, Nat. You know that. He loves making surprises.”

“Kasey, stop!”

More cries filled the night sky, as Kasey hugged Natalie and Natalie gripped his aviator jacket and screamed. Remus turned to look at Sirius, who was covering his face with a hand, and then at the newcomer, now looking around in a confused and hurt sense of hope.

Remus looked up at the stars, trying to breathe and understand.

In the distance, the red planet shone silently.

A few days later

Remus looked at the radio tent, where one of the few functioning computers in the whole camp was set. Where Kasey and Natalie were. Remus had given them the SD card received by Alexander O’Hara—he had a name, now. His—or better, humanity’s Patient Zero finally had a name, and a face from pictures that weren’t as pale or in pain as when Remus had met him. He’d heard the beginning of the video Mars had recorded for his people.

Hello, there. If someone’s watching this, well shucks, I’m not around anymore. This video is addressed to my brother, Finn O’Hara, and my fiancés, Kasey Winter and Natalie Darcy, all from New York City. Please let this end in their hands. Er, I’ll start with Kase and Nat. Hey babes, it’s okay. I promise it’s okay. I hope you’re together, wherever you are…

Remus had left the rest to them.

Logan was doing better. The initial shock had traumatized him, but he kept himself busy with helping the boy he’d arrived with, Leo.

Remus had started studying every data he’s recorded from a few days ago. Another mission was scheduled for the next day to retrieve the body—he could pretend it was for the experiment, but everyone had another goal in mind. A proper burial. A funeral.

Sirius, wonderful, strong Sirius, was keeping him on his feet. He would make sure Remus was eating and sleeping, and in that, nothing had changed. The world’s timeline was now divided in Before and After Day Zero; but when it came to Sirius, his constant, Remus could pretend there was no before, and no after. Just them.

The morning of the mission, someone knocked at the door. After the checks at the gates, Thomas guided another refugee into the camp. He had red hair, a green jacket, and just like everyone else, he was looking for someone.

[arrowofcarnations]

Fic-O-Ween 2023 Day 4: Dead End

Some Luke/Logan friendship for day four of the fest (@noots-fic-fests)! Thanks to @lumosinlove for creating these two, and special thanks to @fruitcoops for beta-reading this and being an all-around excellent friend and hype noot. <3

Title: Birds of a Feather Characters: Luke Deveaux, Logan Tremblay Rating: G

(Contains Vaincre spoilers!)

“Luke and I have been running along the river. You know, the Hudson River path? It’s been kinda warm so sometimes we lay out after. There’s a park with grass. It’s nice.” (Logan, Vaincre, May Part Two)

~

They didn’t have a set schedule or anything. It would happen like this: Luke would text him something like “Run tomorrow? Gonna be nice out,” Logan would send a thumbs-up, and they’d pick an access point along the path to meet—sometimes a familiar one, sometimes a new one way uptown or downtown so they could try out a different route. That’s how it happened in the beginning, at least. Now Logan texted first sometimes, too.

Neither of them were runners the way Finn was, both preferring to keep it down to a few easy miles at most. Sometimes they’d stop so Luke could pet a dog, or so Logan could take a picture of the view to send to his boys. It was…well, nice, like he’d told Leo. Grounding. Head-clearing. Nice, too, to hang out with Luke outside of practice, travel and team dinners.

He had other real friends in New York, of course—with Alex, Percy and Will as his teammates, it still kind of shocked Logan just how many friends he had here—but there was a level of understanding with Luke that was unique. Alex and Percy were loud, outgoing, hearts-on-their-sleeves people. Will was a thousand times more patient and level-headed than Logan could ever be. But Luke—Luke was a lot like him. A hundred silent thoughts for every one said aloud. Guarded around new people. Tough shells, Leo had said of the two of them. Logan supposed that was as good a phrase to characterize it as any. He just knew he was thankful for it.

On this particular day—the warmest they’d had since they’d started doing this together—they hooked up with the path near the George Washington Bridge and headed south, flanked by rows of still-blooming cherry trees lining the river. They’d timed it late enough in the afternoon for the crowds of cyclists, families and dog-walkers to have thinned slightly, but with enough daylight left so they could finish before dark. Streaks of orange and pink were starting to paint the sky by the time they reached Riverside Park. They found an empty spot and planted themselves there; the grass was cool on Logan’s skin as he flopped down on his back, only raising his head to take a sip of water before going boneless.

“Do you have a good route in Gryff?”

Logan’s gaze traveled from the wispy clouds overhead to Luke sitting beside him, bent over his own thigh in a stretch.

“Ouais, kind of,” he replied. He liked that Luke never used the past tense when they talked about Gryffindor, about his life there. “I usually go with Finn—he has his favorites. There’s one we do in the old part of the city that’s good. You know the Godric’s Hollow neighborhood?”

Luke nodded, switching to the other leg. “Hazard dragged us to a bakery there on some little dead-end street once.”

An ache Logan was now familiar with pinged briefly in his chest. Race you to the door. Damn, I can smell those croissants. C’mon, Lo baby, I’ll buy you something sweet. “I know the one. Pretty sure he built the route around that bakery. Even when Knutty and I sleep in, he’ll bring us back something.”

It was a relief to not have to pick and choose his words when it came to Finn and Leo. So new, and still so strange. Had there ever been a time before the last few weeks when he didn’t have to worry about implications?

Finished with his stretch, Luke sat up straight and rolled his neck and shoulders a few times before grabbing his own water bottle. “He’s a morning guy, eh?”

Logan nodded. “Annoyingly so. He needs a coffee in one hand and a book in the other just to keep him in bed past eight.”

Luke gave a hum of acknowledgement, then chugged the rest of his water. He was quiet long enough that Logan was about to ask something else, but then Luke, staring out at the water, said, “Saint’s the same way.”

It was a good thing that Logan had already noticed, that he’d already suspected as much, because it was easy to keep his expression neutral. He was surprised, though; not because Luke and Saint were a thing, but because Luke had told him about it.

“He’s a morning runner?” he asked, staying put in his casual sprawl as though no big news had just been dropped.

“No, yoga. Out on his balcony, ass crack of dawn, with this ugly tie-dye bandana on his head.”

Logan laughed, loud and bright, and it startled a little laugh out of Luke, too. “Goalies are crazy.”

Luke’s shoulders, which had been creeping up toward his ears, dropped; his whole body seemed to relax by several degrees, and he smiled. “They’re nuts.”

They both let the lull in conversation stretch for a little while after that. Luke eventually laid down under the waning sun like Logan was, both of them watching the sky as the city provided a familiar soundtrack of birds, dogs, people and distant traffic. Logan thought about how Luke helped make New York feel like a home away from home. About how nice, how necessary, it was to carve out new routines and memories in a place that was so tangled up with his memories of Finn, and how Luke seemed to know that, how he’d been helping Logan do that without ever discussing it. Though, he guessed part of it was that Luke simply wanted to hang out with him because he liked him.

Liked him and trusted him. Logan wasn’t sure how he’d earned that, but he knew he’d do his best to keep it.

And because he liked Luke, too, he had to turn his head on the grass to look at him and find out what the two of them were dealing with, even if it was awkward.

“Do the other guys know?”

Luke shook his head.

“Your families?”

Another head shake.

“Have you talked about it? You and him.”

Luke glanced away, then snapped his eyes back to Logan like he was making himself stick this out. Logan understood that more than he could put into words. “Not really. It’s—a thing, but not…no one’s said boyfriend. It’s not like Black and Lupin. Or you three.”

“D’accord.”

Luke didn’t ask him not to tell anyone. He didn’t need to.

“You don’t seem surprised,” Luke said after a moment.

Logan shrugged. “Not because—I didn’t hear anything from anyone. I think maybe I can see it because I lived it for so long.”

Luke looked like he was taking that in for a second. Logan hoped he got it right. He wasn’t Finn, who always knew just what to say to anyone, or Leo, who made people feel comfortable with the kindness that radiated from him like sunlight. But Luke nodded, tossed him a stick of gum, and started talking about their upcoming game on Tuesday, so Logan figured he hadn’t fucked it up too badly.

They talked hockey until they really started to lose the light, then made their way through the park toward the street, walking fast to keep warm as dusk ushered the spring chill back in. They lived close enough to share an uber, and Luke called one as they reached the curb.

Logan pulled out his phone as they waited; Finn had correctly guessed where he was just from a blurry picture of one of the pink-petaled trees from earlier, and Leo sent a selfie of the two of them with goofy grins from ear to ear and a love you, gonna kiss you in 2 days!!!. He forgot all about the weather, warmed from the inside out at the sight of them. He wanted that for Luke and Saint, too. He wanted it for everyone who still had to hide, who still told themselves they weren’t allowed to have it.

The car pulled up in front of them and, just before they got in, Luke put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing briefly.

“Thanks, Tremz,” he said, tone casual but green-brown eyes sincere. “For real.”

“No worries,” Logan said, a phrase he’d picked up from Leo. “Get in, I’m fucking freezing.”

Luke shoved him, then climbed into the car. Logan followed his friend close behind.

[wordingg]

Colours

Dead Boy Ween Day 1!

Summary: Crystal, Edwin, and Charles attend a party and then promptly shut the whole thing down.

It started like this: a middle aged woman stopped Crystal in the street as she exited an ice cream shop.

"Crystal?" she asked, looking surprised. She was well dressed with funky glasses, flowy green dress, and salt and pepper hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun that looked too coiffed to actually be careless. "Not Crystal Palace Surname Von Hoverkraft?" she asked, her face struggling toward pleasant but not quite getting there.

"Actually, I just go by Crystal Palace now," Crystal responded hesitantly, shooting a look at Edwin and Charles over the woman's shoulder. She wasn't used to being recognized on the street, but she supposed she was back in London and in a nicer neighborhood. It wasn't out of the question that people from her old life might recognize her.

"Oh, of course," the woman said with a crinkle to her brow. "I suppose your full name is a bit of a mouthful," she laughed.

Crystal didn't laugh with her. She glanced at Edwin and Charles again. Edwin was looking exasperated and impatient, while Charles looked curious but patient. She gave Edwin a small shrug. What was she supposed to do, just shrug the woman off and keep walking?

The woman glanced over her shoulder to where Crystal was looking and the crease between her brows grew deeper.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were talking to someone earlier?" the woman asked. Her smile was fixed on her face in a way that Crystal didn't like and her hand was still on her elbow.

"Uh, no?" Crystal said uncertainly. A second after her eyes darted to Charles and Edwin she realized her mistake. But, it was too late. The woman's eyebrows raised and she too glanced back to the boys, but obviously didn't see them.

Edwin rolled his eyes so hard his whole head rolled with them and started to walk away. Charles snickered and hopped after him, heading toward the subway.

"Sorry, I've really got to go," Crystal said, trying to delicately step around the woman, but her hand clenched down hard on Crystal's jacket.

"Do you recall your fifth birthday?" the woman asked frantically. Her eyes were wide, the whites showing all the way around her dishwater gray eyes. "Do you remember you told me you saw my husband?"

Her heart pounding in her chest, Crystal shook the woman off and took two quick steps back. "Sorry," she gasped, "Sorry I've got to go."

Crystal hustled away as the woman called after her "Nice seeing you, Crystal! Tell your mom I said hi!"

---

Or, maybe it started like this: a text from Crystal's mother saying she was invited to go to a party with her.

"Can you believe it?" Crystal smiled, looking down at her phone screen. "It's just so out of the blue!"

Charles' pointy chin hooked over Crystal's shoulder as he read the text message chain along with her. Crystal had read and reread the messages so many times, but she couldn't get enough. Her mom! Wanted to hang out! With her!

"She's not really inviting you here, though," Charles said uncertainly, frowning down at the phone screen. "She says here you have to go."

Crystal yanked the phone screen away from Charles with a thunderous frown. "She can be a little abrupt, but that's just my mom. It doesn't mean anything," Crystal said.

Charles frowned harder and opened his mouth to say something else, but Edwin cut him off.

"Of course," he said curtly. "You would know her best, Crystal. We trust your judgment," he said with a pointed look at Charles. "It's wonderful that you are reconnecting with your mother."

Charles frown lessened, but didn't disappear completely. "Yeah," he said slowly. "We're happy for you, Crystal."

---

No, how it really started was this: Crystal in the back of a cab sitting between Edwin and Charles on their way to an event at a haunted manor north of London.

"I still don't understand why we have to tag along," Edwin sniffed from Crystal's right. The cab that was driving the three of them trundled slowly down narrow country lanes, making all three of them sway side to side together. Crystal had airpods pressed into her ears and her phone out in her hand to at least attempt to make it look like she wasn't talking to herself in the back of the cab.

"Because, I'm nervous, okay?" Crystal snapped. That was the third time Edwin had complained about tagging along since they got into the car well over an hour ago. "My mom never asks me to come along to any of her stuff, but she asked me to come to this," Crystal continued miserably, her anger disappearing in a puff as soon as she let it out. "What if I mess up and she never asks me again?"

The phantom sensation of an arm settling over her shoulders gave her a little bit of comfort. "Hey, that's not going to happen, all right?"

Crystal could feel Charles giving Edwin a look over her head, but it still felt good to hear him agree with Charles. "Of course. You're a lovely young woman and your mother will be happy to spend time with you."

Unfortunately, Edwin was not a very good liar, especially for those who knew him well. She appreciated him trying, though. It wasn't like it was outside the realm of possibility that this could be the beginning of a renewed relationship with her mother. But, she suspected that she and Edwin shared a certain kind of pessimism that made even entertaining the thought feel frivolous.

Crystal looked up into Edwin's face, which was carefully folded into a kind and encouraging expression. The kindness was real, she could tell from the way his eyebrows tilted up and his eyes crinkled a little at the corners. But, the smile was fake. She could tell he wanted to frown in concern. Not that she could blame him. She did too.

The manor, when they reached it, was a huge stately building that was in need of some repair. But, it was still impressive, despite the cracks in the stone and the sagging of the doorways. The garden huge and lush, the drive curving around an old dry fountain with a praying angel in the center, wings spread wide, with huge red painted double doors set at the top of three curving marble steps. It was like something out of a regency romance novel.

Except that the circular drive was packed with posh high end cars parked every which way in the grass and on the gravel drive, so that the cab had to drop her off a ways off or risk getting trapped in the chaos. Crystal immediately regretted wearing sleek black stilettos as she struggled to toddle her way across the gravel on the balls of her feet. Holding onto Charles' and Edwin's hands helped, but once they got closer to the entrance and the slow moving knot of people moving inside she had to make her way on her own or risk embarrassing her mother in front of all her friends.

Inside, the manor was much more richly decorated. It was the height of summer, but it seemed like whoever designed the event had something Halloween adjacent in mind. There was glittering black velvet drapes everywhere along with sparkling purple spiders hanging from gossamer webs, waiters walking through the crowds were carrying trays with shots bubbling with dry ice and atmospheric music piped through the dark wooden halls. It sort of clashed with the warm air and orange summer sunlight cascading through the tall windows, but whoever had set it up obviously was making a big effort to stick to a theme.

Crystal looked around the foyer for her mother, scanning heads and faces with the help of the little bit of height her ridiculous shoes gave her. She could feel Charles and Edwin hovering at each of her shoulders, which certainly helped her to straighten her back and focus. She could do this.

Her mom had left directly from the gallery. She was busy, obviously. She was always busy. But, she would definitely be at the party and Crystal was at the party now too and that was all she needed.

She started to weave through the party goers, her eyes on the lookout for her mom's distinctive hairstyle, her tall willowy body shape, her intelligent (and judgmental) eyes that Crystal knew as well as her own face. It didn't take long to find her.

In what was probably a ballroom in the manor's heyday, her mom was trapped talking to a woman who looked vaguely familiar. The tense smile and crinkled brow were a combination Crystal remembered from a lot of stiff adult parties she was dragged to as a little kid. Obviously her mom needed a rescue and Crystal was ecstatic to provide it.

"Mom!" she exclaimed, stepping up to the two older women with a wide smile. She didn't even have to fake the smile, she was so happy to have found her mother in the press of strangers. She felt more than saw Edwin and Charles hang back a little, but they didn't go far. When she glanced over, both Edwin and Charles were bent over Charles' hands, looking at them like they were the most fascinating thing in the world. The urge to hiss at them to knock it off was strong, but Crystal swallowed it down at the last moment.

"Crystal! So glad you made it!" her mom enthused, a little stiff but sounding sincere enough. She pulled Crystal in and kissed the air by each of her cheeks while Crystal did the same. If she noticed Crystal glance at the empty space behind and to her right she didn't mention it.

As she pulled away, her mom turned to the other woman she had been talking to. "You remember Kat Runnover? She's been so excited to see you," her mom enthused.

As Crystal turned to her, she suddenly remembered where she had seen her before. The woman who had accosted her outside the ice cream shop stood before her, now dressed in a tasteful black cocktail dress, martini glass in hand, her eyes wide and wet and shining as she pressed the pads of her fingers to her mouth.

"Oh, Crystal! It's so good to see you again! I'm so glad you could make it," Kat warbled before pulling a frozen Crystal into a hug. Her perfume was strong, but didn't quite mask the scent of her hairspray. Crystal hesitantly patted the other woman on the back.

"Now that you're here, we can finally start the party! Just a moment I have something I have to set up. Be right back," she sang, waving with the fingers still clutching the stem of her glass before dodging through the crowd toward the back of the room.

The second the woman was gone, Crystal turned back to her mother. Gone was the warm socialite smile. Instead her mother looked tired and cranky, her eyes roving over Crystal's dress and heels and hair, her mouth twisting into a moue of distaste.

"It certainly took you long enough to get here. Did you walk all the way from London?" he mother snarked, snatching a cocktail from a wandering waiter and almost downing the whole thing in one swallow.

"There was a lot of traffic," Crystal said awkwardly. She tried to pull down the hem of her skirt, but there wasn't a lot of give to the fabric. She felt incredibly self-conscious under her mother's gaze and already resented that she had made her feel that way. "Kat, huh?"

Her mother scoffed. "Poor Kat. She's never been the same since Stephen died. This is another one of her awful death day celebrations. They just get more unhinged every year." Crystal's mother stopped and gave her another assessing look. "She asked for you specifically, but wouldn't say why. Did you do something?"

"Just stumbled into her outside an ice cream shop. I didn't recognize her, but she recognized me," Crystal said with a shrug.

Her mother sighed heavily and knocked back the last swallow of her cocktail. "I guess it would be hard for her to forget you. After that whole fiasco back then."

Crystal frowned and forced herself not to fidget. She saw the flash of Charles' red polo in the corner of her eye moving closer, but forced herself not to react. Even if it wasn't warm and fuzzy, this was more words than she'd heard from her mother in the last month combined.

"What fiasco?" Crystal asked.

Her mother raised an incredulous eyebrow. "You really don't remember? At your fifth birthday party, you insisted that you could see her husband right behind her. Sent the poor woman into hysterics," she said with a curl of her lip.

Crystal winced. She did vaguely remember that, now that her mother brought it up. It had often been cited as the reason why her parents didn't celebrate her birthday, even if it had long ago become clear to her that holding the actions of a five year old against her was more than a little unfair. She hadn't realized the woman from the memories was Kat, though.

"I haven't seen any other ghosts here. At least the poor man has moved on," Edwin's voice came from just behind Crystal's left shoulder.

"Wow, even as a toddler Crystal was psychic," Charles chuckled from her right side.

Crystal wasn't sure what her face was doing, but was extremely thankful when someone tapped on a microphone, effectively distracting her mother from frowning at her face.

Kat had stood up on a low table and addressed the crowd, thanking them all for coming. Crystal tried to push her emotions down and watch dutifully, but it was hard when the boys were still talking in her ear.

"We do have a bit of a situation, Crystal," Edwin said stiffly, stepping up to her side so that she could see him clearly out of the corner of her eye. He was rubbing his hands together in an unusual gesture for him.

"Not sure who set it up, but this room must be enchanted," Charles contributed. "Seems like we're corporeal, while we're here," he explained, snapping his fingers and startling a few people who unfairly shot Crystal a dirty look. She shrugged apologetically and then shot Charles a dirty look once they had turned back around.

Kat had moved on to talking about death and her love for her husband, but Crystal was barely listening by that point.

Covering her mouth with her hand, she whispered, "What do you mean you're corporeal? Can people see you?"

"Not as such," Edwin sniffed. "But, they can feel us, we take up space, and we have weight, so long as we are under the effects of the spell."

"Why would someone put an enchantment like that on this room?" Crystal hissed.

"Crystal, hush!" her mother said from the corner of her mouth.

"Maybe someone set it up and then forgot about it?" Charles suggested.

"Or perhaps our host is about to do something ill advised..." Edwin said slowly, frowning at the front of the room where Kat was still talking, but much more emotionally now.

"I believe that the dead walk among us right now!" Kat was shouting into the microphone, mascara running down her cheeks with her tears. "I believe that with the right tools, with the right help from the right people," she smiled wetly right at Crystal, "we can finally see what's been right beside us all along."

"Oh, god," Crystal's mother groaned.

A second later, there was a mechanical thunk, and then hundreds of little fabric balls were hurtling down from the ceiling onto the crowd of people below. As they landed softly on hair and shoulders and backs, they exploded into clouds of bright primary colors, puffs of vibrant shades covering all the tastefully neutral colors of the crowd.

People started shouting right away, complaining about their designer clothing and their hundred dollar hair styles, literally shouting their fists at Kat who still stood on the table, her eyes desperately scanning the crowd.

And then people were screaming in a very different way.

"Oh, bugger," Charles grumbled, looking down at himself.

People started falling over themselves to get away from Charles and Edwin. Both of them were absolutely covered in paint, the colors clinging to them in a way that looked normal to Crystal but probably looked like something out of the Invisible Man to everyone else in the room.

Crystal was nearly bowled over at least three times as people rushed to get away from Charles and Edwin who stood placidly in the center of the room. Crystal fought against the pull of the crowd until she was able to break through and back into the empty space around them. When she turned back toward the doors, it was to see only the backs of dozens of people as they shoved at each other to escape. She couldn't see her mother anywhere.

"Really, this is quite childish," Edwin sighed, trying to brush a splash of bright red paint off of his sleeve and only succeeding in smearing the color around more.

Kat was screaming from somewhere in the house. Crystal thought she might have seen some muscular guys in off the rack suits tackle her out of the room once everyone started stampeding, but she wasn't sure. Everything had happened so fast once the screaming started.

Looking out the tall windows, she could see scores of people sprinting for the mess of cars in the circular driveway. The people who were already in their cars were laying on their horns and bumping into each other in their haste to escape.

"I don't know, mate. I think you look good in red," Charles said. Crystal turned just in time to see him wink at Edwin. Edwin scoffed in return, but looked pleased nonetheless.

"Well," Crystal said. She threw her arms out in an exaggerated shrug and then lets them slap back to her sides. "So much for mother daughter bonding."

"There will be other chances," Charles said, his expressive eyebrows folding in sympathy.

"I'm quite sorry, Crystal. Perhaps we should not have come along, after all," Edwin said quietly, his eyes looking old and tired in a way that was familiar, but that Crystal hated to see.

Crystal huffed a breath out her nose. She tried to imagine coming to the party by herself, riding in the cab by herself, talking to her mother without backup, inevitably going home to an empty flat all by herself. Maybe if Charles and Edwin hadn't come along she could have spent an interminable evening being stiff and unhappy beside her mother at the party, but somehow the prospect didn't seem more appealing than being covered in paint in an empty Manor with her two favorite dead boys.

"Nah," Crystal said with a lopsided smile. She leaned over and picked up one of the little fabric balls off the floor. It felt like a hacky sack in her hand, but was powdery with pale blue paint. "And miss you covered in paint? No way."

With a hard throw, Crystal nailed Edwin right in the chest with the ball and it exploded all over him in a pale blue cloud.

"Crystal!" he shouted, scandalized.

Charles was cackling, already loading his arms with a dozen discarded paint balls. "Yes, Crystal! That's my girl!" he laughed, whipping a bright yellow ball at her head and covering her in paint while she squealed.

And, maybe this is how this story ends: with three teenagers in various stages of life and death laughing in an empty house. With their laugher and playing spilling out of the house and onto the lawn until the paint balls finally run out of paint and they lay panting in the grass, covered in all the colors of the rainbow. And maybe the boys can drop their corporeal aspect and let the paint fall off them like a slowly dissolving paint palette while the girl has to find a shallow stream to wash the worst of it off. And maybe later they go back to the boys' office and sit in a circle on the floor and play board games until the sun comes up and the girl is snoring on their small worn love seat.

And, maybe it's a happy ending after all is said and done.

[enby-calamity]

Dead boy ween day 2

Charles, Edwin, and Crystal find comfort in each other after Niko’s death.

prompt: Comfort

thanks again @deadboyween

[thatssomuchlove]

Fic-O-Ween Day 10

Characters by the lovely @lumosinlove and fest organized by @noots-fic-fests!!

Prologue for a Stardust AU (a sort of hodge-podge of book and movie) featuring the one and only Ramsey O'Hara:

Ramsey’s scrap of sanity was getting pretty threadbare. He loved his son dearly; he loved his wailing and crying son so dearly, but he was going crazy. He knew that losing his wife in childbirth was just as tough on his baby as it was on him (he hadn’t loved her like the storybooks say, but it was a practical match and they really were very good friends), but god he just hadn’t had a break in over a year. That’s why Ramsey had written to his sister to come stay with him for a little bit. He needed the company, he needed the help, and he desperately needed the pot of tea she was making for them in the kitchen. Alex had quieted down by the time Shannon brought their teacups to the sitting room where Ramsey was bouncing him in his arms. He breathed a quiet word of thanks to his sister before sitting down in his armchair with one arm around Alex where the baby was now sleeping on his chest and the other raising the tea to his lips.

“Ramsey, darling, you look exhausted,” Shannon started.

“Ah, well I can’t imagine why,” Ramsey responded before taking a sip from his teacup. She just gave him a look over the rim of hers.

“How about I take him for a bit? You need some fresh air,” his sister suggested.

Ramsey clutched Alexander a little tighter. The boy may wear him out, but he needed Alex as much as Alex needed him, if not more. His child was the last piece of his wife that he had left, and sometimes letting him go felt impossible.

“I am perfectly capable of putting him down,” Shannon added with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, all right.” But Ramsey was slow to get up and hand Alex over. He really was such a sweet baby. Those huge brown eyes framed by dark red lashes could bend Ramsey’s will on anything, and he felt their pull even while they were closed peacefully. He grabbed his coat then bid them goodbye with a kiss to his sister’s cheek and his baby’s soft, sweet-smelling head. Right before he was out the door, he turned back to the people that mattered most in his life. “Thank you, Shannon.”

She just smiled and waved him off, and Ramsey stepped out into the cool autumn night air and shut the door softly behind him. He looked up at the stars, fainter in the glow of his porch lamps, and chose a direction. After passing the last house on the lane, he almost stopped dead in his tracks when he felt an urge—the first in a long time—to whistle a tune. Ramsey also felt himself being inexplicably drawn to the wall that inspired the name of his town. It was one of the rare Market Days at the beginning of November. He had rented out one of the rooms in his house to a curious man in a black silk top hat because the inn always filled up very fast, and it was considered rude if the townsfolk did not offer up their homes to the visitors—for acceptable payment of course (though what was considered acceptable varied greatly with this strange lot; Ramsey was currently being paid both in coin and the promise of his and his progenies’ Heart’s Desire). He was only comfortable leaving Shannon alone in the house because he knew that his mysterious tenant always stayed out in the Faerie Market all night. Ramsey had never been to the Market, as he had moved from Ireland less than three years ago. Escaping the growing food scarcity, he started working for sheep farmers in Wall to send money back to his family. He became good friends with the farmer’s eldest daughter; and very quickly, he and Daisy were expected to marry, so they did. They had Alex a year into their marriage, and just like that, she was gone. His in-laws generally took care of Alex while he was working, but he still hadn’t expected to have the time nor the energy to see the Market. However, something about this opportunity that would end tonight and not come again for nine years was suddenly irresistible.

When Ramsey emerged from the tree line to see the wall guarded by none other than Mad-Eye Moody himself, he was surprised to find no one passing through either way. Still, he nodded to Moody and attempted to go through the crumbling gap in the wall before his chest bumped into the cane that Moody had thrust out in front of him.

“You can’t pass through the wall, O’Hara,” Moody said in his rough, gravelly voice.

“Why but it is a Market Day,” Ramsey responded with his eyebrows pinched together.

Moody stared at him hard, “yes, but I only let people through midday to dusk. It is not safe over there after nightfall.”

“Oh,” Ramsey knew that Moody was not someone who could be bargained with. “Well… that sounds rather final. Better just go home then, I suppose.” Ramsey turned around to make it appear that he was heeding Moody’s warning, but that last strand of sanity had finally snapped.

“Good,” Moody started walking back to his seat off to the side of the gap. He wasn’t fast enough to stop Ramsey when the young man suddenly turned back around and sprinted towards the wall, leaping through the gap and not stopping to the shouts of “wait!” and “O’HARA!” that followed him into the forest on the other side of the wall. Ramsey knew that Moody would not leave his post, but he didn’t stop running to catch his breath until he was well into the trees.

The Faerie Market lay outside the town that served as a magical counterpart to Wall. He could hear the hawking of wares and music from instruments he could not identify as he moved closer to the orange glow filtering through the forest. Ramsey did not want to look like a tourist, but he felt like his eyes held the same naïve wonderment as his son’s when he finally entered the Market. Some of the stalls were already closed up as it was past normal hours, but there were still plenty of people selling wild things like parts from animals he had never heard of and bottles of swirling clouds and sweet-smelling food (that he knew very well not to take thanks to his Maimeó). He felt almost in a trance as he wandered the winding rows of stalls until sharp awareness flooded back as he beheld the most beautiful woman he had ever seen standing behind a table of small glass flowers that chimed delicately. She had long curly auburn hair hanging loose over bare shoulders and past the neckline of her blue dress with ruffled skirts. Her violet eyes and pointed ears alerted his brain that she could be dangerous, but his heart told him that it didn’t matter.

She caught him staring, “See anything you like?”

It was then that the man with the black silk top hat passed by, though Ramsey did not notice his presence or whisper of a debt being paid in full.

“Definitely,” Ramsey breathed. He could not stop looking at the woman, and when she smiled in response, he lost all higher brain function. He averted his eyes to the flowers and stammered, “they- they are very lovely,” and he picked up a violet that seemed to sing as he held it, “how much?”

“We don’t take money at this stall.”

Ramsey cocked his head, “what do you take?”

“I could take the pattern of freckles on your cheeks… or your memories of the rain. I could even take your ability to smell fresh baked bread or the spice of autumnal air.”

Ramsey put down the flower, feeling a little out of his depth, but he would give up quite a bit just to keep talking to her.

“What is your name?”

She smiled sadly, “I no longer have a name,” and she held up her skirts just enough to show a silver chain tied around her ankle, “I am a slave, and the name I had was taken from me by the witch-woman who owns this stall.”

Ramsey tried not to let too much of his horror show on his face, “And you are her slave forever?”

“No, not forever. But the conditions in which I gain my freedom are not so easily met. My mistress lured me out of my father’s lands and caught me many years ago. I dream of the day that I can return to them as a free woman.” The young woman, who had been looking out unseeing into the middle distance, returned her gaze to Ramsey, “Will you buy a flower from me, young master?”

“My name is Ramsey,” he told her, having been enraptured by her sad tale and forgetting that one must be careful with names in the land of Faerie. He gave the table another look and picked up a white snowdrop that he knew Alex would like. “And what would this cost me?”

“That one would cost a kiss, just here on my cheek,” and she tapped it coyly.

Ramsey grinned at her, “oh that I will pay gladly,” and he kissed the soft skin of her cheek. He felt the overwhelming desire to linger and continue breathing in the inviting, magical scent of the woman, but he pulled away and searched her unusual violet eyes.

“Will you stay awhile? My mistress will not be back for some time,” she asked.

The quickness with which Ramsey started nodding made him pause, “I feel as if I am under some sort of spell.”

Her laugh was even more wondrous than her smile. “You are under no spell, pretty boy,” and she led him to sit in the grass between the painted caravan and her table of wares.

They both looked up at the stars in the clearing between the trees, and Ramsey could not help but remark on the unidentifiable difference to the ones he saw mere hours ago on his side of the wall, “these stars, they seem like… more.”

The woman beside him (she was so close, but he could feel the inches between them so distinctly) hummed melodically and asked, “What are your stars like?”

She looked at him as he struggled to name the difference, “They are beautiful.” He met her gaze and his breath caught, “But everything feels so much more alive here.”

“What about you? Do you feel more alive?”

He didn’t tell her about the challenges he was facing back home—grief, loneliness, homesickness—but he had a feeling she knew anyway. “I think I do,” he whispered and brought a hand to the cheek that he had kissed. He leaned in, and she brought her mouth to his. The desire that Ramsey had felt from that first kiss on her cheek multiplied tenfold, and it felt only natural when she led him through the small door of the yellow caravan.

~

When Shannon scolded him and told him she was this close to forming a search party at the late hour that he finally returned to his home, Ramsey made up some story to placate her and quickly fell into bed (but not before placing the snowdrop carefully on his bedside table), utterly exhausted and strangely content.

~

Nine months later, Ramsey received a surprise in a basket delivered by Moody to his doorstep after hearing a knock at dinner time. The surprise had a little bit of fuzzy red hair and startlingly familiar chocolate brown eyes when he opened them to peer up at Ramsey curiously.

Moody stated gruffly, “This was left at the wall for you. It says his name is Finn.”

All Ramsey could do was stare at the man, and then at the baby.

“Dada! More, peas,” Ramsey heard from where Alex was seated in his highchair at the dinner table.

“One second, a leanbh,” Ramsey called back to Alex before taking the basket from Moody. He told the man thank you and received a grunt in response before closing the door and heading back into the dining room. He set the baby and basket onto the table and picked up the piece of paper that had “Finn Callahan O’Hara” written in looping cursive. There was also a letter and a small package addressed to Finn tucked into the side of the basket that he did not touch.

“What dat?” Alex asked, trying to peer over the edge of the basket, and while there was no written confirmation, Ramsey knew. He knew that he was going to do this again. But he didn’t feel as alone this time. He had Alex, he had his sister, and he had the people in his community, like Iva and Marius, who were always willing to help.

Ramsey gently lifted Finn into his arms and held him so that Alex could get a good look. “This is your little brother Finn,” Ramsey said to Alex and watched his eyes go wide. He then turned to the baby, who had reached out his hand at the sight of the toddler. “Finn, this is your big brother Alexander.”

At least it was going to be easier to get Alex to believe the stork story now.

[weirdmageddon]

any dave music hcs? :) my playlist for him mostly consists of relatively popular rock music. besides wacky but awesome garageband beats, i personally think he’d be a rocknroll radio hits kinda guy, at least for pre-sburb dave, i don’t think he’d have as much freedom to really explore music the way he wants before then. some of my favorites for him are all mixed up (311), superman’s dead (our lady six), bound for the floor (local H), everything to everyone (everclear), inside out (eve 6) and birds (butthole surfers). i also think he’d like metal too! particularly nu metal. even if mixing music and rapping is an outlet for him, i see him relating to these types of songs a lot and maybe at the time when his #ironiccoolguy persona is most prevalent + affecting his interests/personality heavily, he’s embarrassed about admitting his popular favorites b/c it’s not cool to him to like what’s mainstream. but you know character arc! and besides when the earth explodes no music is really popular anymore LOL. btw i liked your davejade music posts ^_^ so i’m very curious if you have any thoughts for dave music on his own!

one of the first things we know about dave is “You like to rave about BANDS NO ONE'S EVER HEARD OF BUT YOU” but its never brought up again. so i can see him having a bit of a punky existence. but its pretty impossible to list bands that people havent heard about but him. it doesnt mean he can’t like known acts. pink floyd are one of the most well known music artists of all time but i think he would like it for instance

but of those known acts i know his ass does not listen to fallout boy or whatever

idk dave he strikes me as someone who listens to both brian eno and death grips but at the same time theres a lot of stuff i CANT see him listening to

i think he probably likes beastie boys. paul’s boutique (1989) is probably one of his top albums. deltron 3030 (2000) too. both experimental hiphop, paul’s boutique utilizing plunderphonics while deltron 3030 is a bit more epic and psychedelic.

i think both wouldve changed his life. paul’s boutique for for his pragmatic bent (sampling)

and deltron 3030 on the psychological / reflection / journey / listen and close your eyes rock opera side (“It is a rap opera concept album set in a dystopian year 3030. The album's story casts Del in the role of Deltron Zero, a disillusioned mech soldier and interplanetary computer prodigy rebelling against a 31st-century New World Order. In a world where evil oligarchs suppress both human rights and hip-hop, Del fights rap battles against a series of foes, becoming Galactic Rhyme Federation Champion. Del the Funky Homosapien's lyrics veer from serious social commentary to humor to epic sci-fi battles, while producer Dan the Automator creates an eerie and dense atmosphere.”)

come on man

nmesh dream sequins is another album i can see him listen to, the cream of the crop for experimental vaporwave (the type of slowing samples in vaporwave was a technique pioneered by dj screw who i think dave would also dig, as it essentially manipulates time and thats Cool). probably likes oneohtrix point never too, an experimental electronic artist who also took inspiration from screw

maybe a bit of biting tongues, one of my favorites. he couldve been led to it going down the eno hole. probably his favorite album being recharge (1989)

as for rock i’m pretty sure dave strikes me as a psychedelic / experimental rock type of dude. so yeah pink floyd is still on the table especially early with syd barrett (the piper at the gates of dawn (1967) and a saucer full of secrets (1968)). but i think he can like later after that (of COURSE he feels drawn to the song ‘time’ lol i bet he’d want to replicate the atmosphere of the song’s beginning in his own stuff). he likes this kinda sound. he i can definitely see him being a ween fan for sure, especially quebec (2003) or their satire art/prog rock album the mollusk (1997) —the latter of which i could see him bonding with jade over DEFINITELY just listen to the titular song — but really the whole discography. or a zappa fan. maybe a dip into metal if its experimental or funky like primus or zillatron (bootsy collins alias)

i have to mention that these are all bands i like to some degree because to know what they sound like and if they fit dave ive had to listen to them lol. but yeah so that could put some bias into it and theres surely more stuff he would listen to i dont know but heres a portion of what i see from where i am

the common denominator between all the music i talked about was that theyre experimental

[clockwrkcabaret]

Episode 767: Originally Aired on Mad Wasp Radio, 11.03.24

WARNING! This show is for adults. We drink cocktails, have potty mouths and, at least, one of us was raised by wolves.

The Clockwork Cabaret is a production of Agony Aunt Studios. Featuring that darling DJ Duo, Lady Attercop and Emmett Davenport. Our theme music is made especially for us by Kyle O’Door.

This episode aired on Mad Wasp Radio, 11.03.24.

New episodes air on Mad Wasp Radio on Sundays @ 12pm GMT! Listen at www.madwaspradio.com or via TuneIn radio app!

Playlist:

C.W. Stoneking – I’ll Never Get Out of This World Alive

Sunnyland Slim – Be Careful How You Vote

Big Mama Thornton – They Call Me Big Mama

The Ink Spots – If I Didn’t Care

Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong – They All Laughed

Jack Teagarden & His Orchestra – I Swung the Election

The Vincent Black Shadow – Never Met Another Woman Like Me

Jurnee Smollett-Bell – It’s A Man’s Man’s Man’s World

Jorja Smith – I Am

Ween – Hey There Fancypants

Man Man – Banana Ghost

Primus – Making Plans For Nigel

They Might Be Giants – Alienation’s for the Rich

Violent Femmes – Old Mother Reagan

Zoe Boekbinder – Make a Mess

Brown Bird – Chairkickers

Bobbie Gentry – Papa, Won’t You Let Me Go to Town With You

AJJ – Normalization Blues

The Two Man Gentlemen Band – Stuff Your Ballot Box

The Cog is Dead – In My Head

The Aeronauts – The Moral Tango

MC5 – The American Ruse

X-Ray Spex – I Can’t Do Anything

Amyl and The Sniffers – Choices

Brass Against – Know Your Enemy (feat. Sophia Urista) [Live]

Todrick Hall – Boys Wear Pink

K’naan, Snow Tha Product, Riz MC & Residente – Immigrants (We Get the Job Done)

Frank Turner – 1933

Vision Video – Normalized

Siouxsie & the Banshees – This Town Ain’t Big Enough for Both of Us

Check out this episode!