#some drug use

[youshouldhavepaidattentiondad]

A Budding Conspiracy

Ao3

Summary: Best friends Ziggs and Skud didn't mean to stumble into what is possibly the biggest conspiracy in Hatchetfield. Upon learning what happens to the Honey Queen every year, the duo have to figure out who they can trust as they decide how far they'll go for answers.

It's been a while, but here's my entry for the @hatchetfield-bang this year!

-

The sun dips low in the sky, casting a cozy orange glow over the town of Hatchetfield. Main street is busy as citizens of the town prepare for tomorrow night. 

Deep in the heart of Witchwood Forest, a small green pickup truck sits outside an old farmhouse. Ziggs sprawls out on the ground, soaking up the sun.

They should be working, the thought has crossed their mind. But Emma is spending the weekend in town with her boyfriend, so Ziggs is going to take the opportunity to relax.

The rumble of an approaching engine makes Ziggs crack open an eye lazily. Their bare toes wriggle in the soft blades of grass as they watch a beat up black sedan roll into the yard.

The car comes to a halt, the engine shutting off. The driver's door opens. “Hey, Ziggy,” Skud calls as he climbs out. 

Ziggs grins, propping themself up on their elbows as they watch their friend approach. “Sup, man?” They greet, eagerly eyeing the case of hard ciders Skud carries.

“Not much. Glad to have a fucking break from rehearsals,” Skud replies as he plops down on the ground next to Ziggs. He brushes back his long, wavy hair. “Shouldn't you be, like, working right now?”

“Perky's not here,” Ziggs answers as they open the box of ciders. The bottles rattle slightly before becoming still again. “Besides, I don't think she'd be mad if I took a little break.”

Smirking, Skud reaches into his pocket to pull out a bottle opener. “Perky seems like a chill boss. Better than Thrash anyway.”

Ziggs holds out a bottle, letting Skud pop the top off before asking, “He still being a dick?”

“He's just mad cause Maevis Lyn has been super successful since breaking up with him and starting her own band,” Skud explains as he grabs himself a bottle from the box.

They sit in silence for a few minutes. A light breeze washes over them as they sip their ciders.

“Wanna go to the Honey Festival tomorrow?” Ziggs asks finally, “I wanna get some honey to infuse with weed.”

Snorting slightly, Skud replies, “Of course you do. I'm down, as long as we don't have to go to the Honey Queen pageant.”

“Yeah, no, fuck that,” Ziggs agrees. They drain the rest of their bottle before setting it in the grass between them and Skud. They pull out another bottle. 

Before they can get Skud to open it for them, a stronger gust of wind blows over them, making the field of cannabis sway.

Ziggs retches, tugging their shirt up over their nose to try to block the smell the breeze carries. “The fuck is that gnarly smell?”

Nose wrinkling in disgust, Skud shrugs. “Maybe a timberwolf didn't finish eating something.”

“Nah, if a timberwolf left it, the nighthawks would have picked it clean.”

The wind dies down and Ziggs lets their shirt drop as the scent fades. “Probably the Metzgers and something weird over on their property.”

Skud nods as he opens the fresh bottle for Ziggs. “Probably,” he agrees.

The sun finishes setting, casting them in the glow of twilight. They head inside before the mosquitoes start to appear.

In the farmhouse, Skud raises the windows for the fresh air, the screens keeping the bugs out. 

Ziggs emerges from the kitchen, a brownie in each hand. “Me and Perky baked them fresh earlier,” they inform Skud proudly.

“Are they left handed?” Skud asks even as he reaches for the one Ziggs offers.

“Brownies don't have hands.”

Skud takes a bite of brownie. “I meant do they have weed in them, dumbass.”

“Oh. Yeah, they do,” Ziggs laughs.

The moon slowly rises. Stars twinkle and shine down on the farmhouse. Inside, Skud and Ziggs lounge lazily on the couch, their brownies kicking in.

It happens again: a strong breeze filters through the window screen, carrying the same smell as before.

“Okay, what the fuck is that?” Skud demands as Ziggs gags.

“One way to find out,” Ziggs manages to get out.  They stand, swaying slightly as they walk to the kitchen. They return shortly with two flashlights.

Skud stands unsteadily, taking one of the flashlights.

They venture past the fields and into the trees of the woods. The lights cast eerie shadows as they illuminate their way.

“I hope it's not a dead animal,” Ziggs says as they stumble over a tree root, bumping into Skud. “Fucking hate seeing dead animals.”

“I know you do.” Skud clumsily pats them on the back as they continue making their way.

After a bit of walking, they can hear voices up ahead, as well as see lights.

Instinctively, Ziggs switches off their flashlight, prompting Skud to do the same. They creep to the edge of the trees to see a clearing.

Torches cast the space and several figures in black robes in a hazy light.

In that light, they see the cause for the smell: A large pile of pig carcasses.

Ziggs claps a hand over their mouth, trying to fight the urge to vomit.

“-prepared for tomorrow night,” one of the robed figures says to a tall man with a thin mustache.

“...isn't that Roman Murray?” Skud whispers, leaning towards Ziggs.

It takes Ziggs a moment to focus, but when they do, they recognize the only figure not draped in a cloak. They nod, frowning at the scene.

“Excellent,” Roman replies, “I'll be here tomorrow night with our new Honey Queen. Hopefully she enjoys the ceremony.”

Dark laughter ripples through the clearing, sending shivers down both Skud and Ziggs’ spines.

Skud bolts first, his flashlight flickering to life as he tries to put as much distance between himself and the clearing.

It doesn't take long for Ziggs to follow.

The beams of their flashlights bounce and jerk as they race through the Witchwood. Ziggs feels like they don't breathe until they burst out of the trees, back in the safety of the farm.

Ziggs drops to the ground, panting heavily. Out of their peripheral, they see Skud doubled over, leaning against a nearby tree.

it takes several moments, but once they get their breath back, Ziggs’ first words are, “What the fuck?!”

“I… I don't know,” Skud admits. He straightens up,  glancing over his shoulder. He pushes off the tree and reaches a hand out to help Ziggs off the ground.

They make it back into the farmhouse, collapsing on the couch. The air feels heavy, the weight of what they saw and heard hanging over them.

“Why do you think they have dead pigs for the Honey Queen?” Skud finally asks after several minutes,  breaking the silence.

“Fuck if I know, man.” Ziggs shudders at the memory of the pig carcasses. “You think that's why she leaves every year? They scare her off with dead pigs?”

Skud contemplates this. “We could always go back tomorrow night. See what they do.”

“...yeah, we could,” Ziggs hesitates, “But, like, do we want to?”

More silence. Ziggs grabs their open cider and chugs the rest of it.

Yawning, Skud shrugs. “Maybe we decide tomorrow. Right now, I think it's time for bed.”

“Yeah. Come on up,  the guest room is all made up for you.”

They make their way up the stairs, saying their goodnights at the landing before going into their respective rooms.

Ziggs changes into a loose tank top and a pair of sweats before climbing into bed.

It feels like they're asleep before their head touches the pillow.

The next morning, sunlight shines through the window of Ziggs’ room, falling across their face. Wincing, they slowly open their eyes, cringing back from the light.

Their whole body aches, like they got hit by a truck. Groaning, they roll over to climb out of bed.

Their bare feet pad down the stairs and they make a beeline for the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

By the time it finishes brewing, Skud enters the kitchen, his bandana missing, leaving his messy curls hanging in his face.

Ziggs grabs two mugs, pouring them each a cup before passing one to Skud.

He gives an appreciative little grunt before taking a sip, hissing at the heat.

They settle at the kitchen table, snacking from the box of donuts sitting between them.

Finally, Skud speaks. “You remember last night?”

Memories flash through Ziggs’ mind: the smell, the pig carcasses, the conversation they overheard.

They swallow the donut they were eating, quickly chasing it down to a swig of coffee before answering, “Yeah. I'm guessing you do too.”

“Yeah,” Skud replies. He stares down at his coffee.

The silence feels uncomfortable. Ziggs reaches for another donut. “We could just forget it,” they suggest.

“We could,” Skud agrees, “But… what's one of the most powerful men in Hatchetfield doing in the woods late at night with people in robes and dead pigs?”

“... I don't know.”

Skud finally looks up from his coffee, brushing his hair back from his face to look at Ziggs seriously. “I say we, like, Scooby Doo this shit.”

Ziggs chuckles at this before seeing the look in Skud's eye. “Wait, for real?”

“Yeah, for real,” Skud confirms, “You in?”

Taking a sip of coffee, Ziggs considers it before nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I'm in. Where do we start?”

Skud hums thoughtfully. “Roman Murray said they were going to bring the Honey Queen there…”

“...so we should probably go to the pageant,” Ziggs finishes with a groan. “I hate beauty pageants.”

“Same,” Skud agrees, “But, like, if we're going to find out what they're planning, I think we need to go.”

Another frustrated groan escapes Ziggs. “Fine.” They stand to go refill their mug. “We go to the Honey Festival, hit up some stalls, go to the pageant- wait, how are we gonna find our way back to that clearing?”

Skud blinks as if he hadn't considered that. “I mean, we found it last night. It shouldn't be too hard.”

“Yeah, okay, that makes sense.” Ziggs agrees. They check their watch. “Festival starts in a few hours. Imma have a brownie. You want one?”

“Do you even have to ask?” Skud stands as well, grabbing his mug on the way up. 

-

Downtown Hatchetfield bustles with life. Vendor stalls line the streets, along with food trucks and carnival games. 

Ziggs and Skud walk down the road toward the Starlight Theater. Ziggs carries a brown paper bag holding a jar of honey they bought earlier in the afternoon.

Next to them, Skud snacks on some cotton candy, the sugar turning his lips blue.

“Do we know anyone competing in the pageant?” Skud asks curiously. 

“Dude,  I don't even know who is competing,” Ziggs admits, “We weren't going to go, remember?”

They walk up the steps to the doors of the theater. Ziggs looks around. “You know, I don't think I've ever actually been in here.”

“Me either,” Skud admits. 

They find seats near the back of the house. Almost all of the rows in front of them are full, crammed with citizens eager to see their new queen get crowned. 

The lights over the auditorium go dark as a spotlight illuminates Professor Henry Hidgens, microphone in hand. “Welcome, Hatchetfield, to the Honey Queen Pageant!”

Avid applause fills the chamber, complete with some hoots and hollers. Ziggs rolls their eyes, reaching over to steal some of Skud's cotton candy.

“We have twenty very beautiful, very talented women here to put on their best for you folks,” Hidgens proclaims once the clapping has died down. “First-”

Ziggs tunes out the names as they stare at the stage. One name in particular catches their attention though: Charlotte Sweetly. It catches their attention because Skud smacks their arm when it's announced.

“What?” Ziggs hisses, rubbing their arm.

Skud looks at them seriously. “Isn't her husband a cop?” He asks before glancing around. “See, right there.”

Following Skud's gaze, Ziggs sees a uniformed officer clapping albeit half heartedly at the announcement of his wife's name.

“Yeah, so?” Ziggs whispers.

“I dunno, do you think the police are in on this too?”

Ziggs considers this before shaking their head. “Nah, man. I think this is bigger than small town cops. Much bigger.”

They go quiet as the question round begins. All of the answers seem generic: world peace, betterment for children, etc.

Then comes Charlotte's turn. Ziggs finally recognizes her. It's unusual seeing her in a royal purple evening gown instead of her usual knitted cat sweaters. She's transformed from frumpy to dazzling, with her curls framing her face.

“Okay, Charlotte, your question,” Hidgens starts before pausing for dramatic effect. “What is your biggest fear?”

Charlotte gives a dreamy smile. “I'd have to say my biggest fear,” She responds, “Is leaving Hatchetfield, because I know nowhere else could be as great.”

The crowd eats it up,  going wild for the answer.

Skud frowns, leaning in towards Ziggs. “Isn't she usually, like, super timid when you see her around town?”

“Yeah,” Ziggs confirms before glancing at the cop again, who is applauding much more enthusiastically at his wife's reply. “Maybe she's trying to prove something to someone.”

After a few more questions to other participants, Hidgens announces the talent portion of the pageant.

Ziggs and Skud both groan lowly at this. It's a new kind of torture, listening to a grating violin that clearly hadn't been practiced in years. The rest of the acts that follow are equally as mediocre.

Then Charlotte comes onstage to perform Just for Once from The Barbecue Monologues. The pain In her voice, the utter desperation bleeds through every note. Ziggs isn't sure If they're imagining it, but it seems like every now and then throughout the song, she's looking directly at her husband instead of performing to the judges and audience.

By the end of the tune, Skud discreetly wipes away a couple tears. “I think she is trying to prove something,” he manages to croak out quietly.

Ziggs pats him on the back.

Once the talent portion completes, Hidgens returns to the stage. “Now, we're going to take a few minutes to let the judges deliberate- oh? You're ready?”

One of the judges stands, passing an envelope to Hidgens.

Straightening up,  Hidges places the microphone in the stand. “Okay, Hatchetfield. Your Honey Queen this year is….” he pauses dramatically as he pulls the cars from the envelope. “...Charlotte Sweetly!”

Thunderous applause greets Charlotte as she comes back out on stage, beaming as Hidgens places a sparkling silver crown on her head.

“C'mon, we need to get back there,” Skud mutters as he nudges Ziggs.

Nodding, Ziggs stands.

They hurry from the theater, back to Ziggs’ truck. Once they're safely in the cab, Ziggs lets out a breath they didn't realize they were holding.

It's not until they're on the road, driving through the dark back to the farmhouse that Skud speaks. “What do you think they're going to do to her?”

“Fuck if I know, man,” Ziggs answers, voice shaking. They spare a glance over at Skud. “Last chance to back out.”

Skud shakes his head firmly. “I gotta know what happens.”

“Okay.” Ziggs presses their lips in a thin line.

The truck rolls to a stop next to the porch. The pair climb out,  heading inside to grab flashlights before heading for the treeline.

“Maybe they just pay her to leave town,” Ziggs suggests as they cross the field.

“Why would there be dead pigs then?” Skud questions as they break step into the forest, stepping over gnarled roots.

Ziggs doesn't have an answer for that.

Silently, they wander through the trees, their flashlights cutting through the darkness.

After several minutes, Skud flips off his flashlight, prompting Ziggs to do the same.

Several yards ahead, Ziggs can make out the glow of torches. Swallowing heavily, Ziggs follows Skud almost to the treeline, trying to stay hidden in the shadows.

The seconds stretch into minutes. Ziggs feels like they're suffocating from anticipation.

Finally, a fancy car rolls up,  headlights cutting through the trees. Skud and Ziggs both duck to avoid being seen.

As they stand up again, Roman Murray and Charlotte are climbing out of the car.

The ground rumbles slightly, making Ziggs and Skud both hold onto a tree for support. Hissing and popping fills the air as the pig carcasses begin to writhe.

Ziggs retches, covering their mouth with a hand as the pigs begin to stretch and meld into one another. Even from this distance, they can see the teeth from the bodies falling into neat rows until a huge, gaping maw appears, licking its lips.

A loud shriek fills the air as Charlotte turns to try to run. The figures in robes grab her, dragging her back over to the mouth. 

“Hello, Charlotte,” the mouth greets with a smile. Its voice grates Ziggs’ ears. “Yum, yum.”

In horror, Ziggs and Skud watch as Charlotte gets lifted and devoured by the mouth in one bite.

Skud steps back first, his foot crashing down on a large branch with a sharp crack.

“What was that?” Roman demands, looking towards the trees.

Ziggs doesn't wait, turning and running as fast as they can. They can hear Skud behind them. They're halfway back to the farmhouse before Ziggs even remembers to turn their flashlight back on. 

Once they break through the trees, the pair both drop to the dewy grass, panting heavily.

The moon shines down on them as they attempt to catch their breath.

Skud speaks first. “What… the ever loving fuck… was that?!”

“I dunno, man,” Ziggs gasps, “That…” They shudder as the scene replays in their mind. “We gotta tell someone.”

Nodding vehemently, Skud glances back at the trees, as if expecting someone to be following them. “...what about your dad?”

“My dad is an artist, the fuck is he gonna do?” Ziggs asks.

“No, not Russ, your other dad,” Skud clarifies, “The military one.”

Ziggs considers this before shaking their head. “No. He's busy. I doubt he'd come back for this,” they say bitterly. They push themself to their feet before reaching out a hand to help Skud up.  “Come on,  let's get inside.”

Once they make it back inside the farmhouse, they collapse on opposite sides of the couch. “Where do we even start with this?” Ziggs asks, pulling off their beanie to run their hand back through their hair.

“... maybe the mayor?” Skud suggests slowly, “If people in town are being ritualistically sacrificed, he'd probably want to know.”

Ziggs considers this before shaking their head. “I don't think so. For all we know, he was under one of those robes. We gotta think smaller, find someone who can actually help.”

The clock on the wall ticks loudly in the silence.

“... what about your dad? Hasn't he lived in Hatchetfield all his life?” Ziggs finally questions. 

Skud nods. “Yeah. Yeah we can try asking him, see what he knows.”

The next morning, Ziggs and Skud head down to the docks. The pair steps out of Ziggs’ truck, heading down to where a houseboat floats in the water.

A man with long, curly, sandy hair, not unlike Skud's, stands on the deck. His tanned skin broken up by various scars on his hands.  Busy coiling a length of rope around his arm, he doesn't notice the two approaching.

“Permission to come aboard, captain?” Ziggs calls once they're close enough to be heard. 

The man looks up, smiling slightly at the sight of them. “Ziggs! Scott!” He hangs up the rope as they walk across the gangway.

“Hey, Dad,” Scott replies. 

Ziggs waves. “Hey, Harold. We have a couple questions.”

“Questions?” Harold raises an eyebrow, the scar running through it made more prominent by the action. “What kind of questions?”

Glancing around nervously, Skud suggests, “Let's go inside first then we'll ask.”

Frowning, Harold leads them inside to a small sitting area. Skud and Ziggs squeeze onto a small loveseat while Harold settles into an armchair. “What's going on?”

Ziggs and Skud exchange a look. “Dad.. does anyone know what happens to the Honey Queen every year?” Skud finally asks. 

“She leaves town,” Harold replies with a shrug, “Everyone knows that.”

“Yeah, but do we know for sure she leaves town?” Ziggs asks, “Does anyone stay in touch with her after she leaves? Or does she just go missing?”

Harold laughs lightly. “People seem to go missing every day around here,” he answers, “Besides, almost all the Honey Queens have been young, single women. They probably just leave after winning to get out.”

“...what if-” Ziggs starts, stopping abruptly when Skud shakes his head before standing. 

“Thanks, Dad,” he says.

Harold doesn't seem surprised by Skud suddenly wanting to leave. “Of course. Are you still coming over for dinner next week? Gabe and your Uncle Barry will be here.”

“Yeah, I'll be here.”

Ziggs follows Skud off the houseboat. “What the hell, man?” They finally ask once they're back on the dock.

“He wouldn't have believed us,” Skud says with a sigh. “We-”

“Well, if it isn't Ziggs MacNamara and Scott Swift,” Roman Murray's voice comes from behind them. 

They both jump, turning to see Roman standing in front of a large boat, dressed in linen shorts and shirt.

“Uh, hey, Mr. Murray,” Skud says awkwardly. His eyes dart to the blonde woman waiting impatiently on the boat as four blonde boys run around.

“What's up?” Ziggs asks, feeling dread creep up their spine.

Roman smiles widely. “Just seeing what you two thought of the Honey Festival last night. Did you enjoy the show?”

Swallowing nervously, Ziggs starts, “Yeah, the pageant was gr-”

“I'm not talking about the pageant.” Roman's eyes seem to glint as he takes a step towards them. “Who have you told?”

“N-no one,” Skud manages to get out,  reaching blindly for Ziggs’ hand to give it a squeeze. 

“Let's keep it that way, shall we?” Roman's sharp grin looks more like a predator baring its teeth.

One of the boys from the boat calls, “Grandpa, hurry up!”

“Coming, Trent.” Roman turns.

A sudden burst of courage fills Ziggs' chest. “We'll stop you.” They squeeze Skud's hand back.

“Stop me?” Roman turns back, shaking his head. “By all means, stop me. But you'll never be able to stop Nibblenephim.”

Without another word, he heads up to the boat.

Skud jerks Ziggs’ towards the truck, glancing back anxiously. “What the hell, Ziggy?”

“I-” Ziggs shakes their head, suddenly aware of how fast their heart is beating. “I don't know.”

Once they're back in the truck, they watch the boat Roman is on sail away from the docks. “How does he know your name?” Ziggs finally asks.

“My dad is part of the Hatchetfield Boating Society,” Skud explains, “I've seen Roman Murray at their events. His daughter is the president.” He glances at Ziggs. “How did he know your name?”

Ziggs racks their brain for an answer. “I-I don't know,” they admit, “Maybe something with Pops working at the school? I think he's a donor or a school board member or something?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

An uneasy silence falls over them. They watch until the boat fades from view, too far out in the lake to be seen from shore.

“I need to smoke,” Ziggs mutters before cranking up the truck.

When they arrive at the farmhouse, there's another car parked beside Skud's. 

“Looks like Perky's home,” Skud comments as they climb out of the truck.

“Perfect! She'll believe us!”

Ziggs races up the porch steps, Skud close behind them.

Inside, Emma Perkins and her boyfriend, Paul Matthews, sit on the couch. A movie plays on the TV, not that Ziggs cares. They stand in front of the TV.

“Ziggs, can you move?” Emma asks as she pauses the film. “We were watching something.”

“And now you're going to listen to me,” Ziggs says urgently.

Emma blinks, surprised at this tone from her farmhand. 

“So you know last night was the Honey Festival. Skud and I went to the Honey Queen Pageant-”

Paul interrupts, “Oh yeah. My coworker Charlotte won. Well, ex coworker. She sent in her resignation after she won. We didn't go to the pageant though. People singing and dancing-”

“Makes you uncomfortable, I know, I've heard a million times,” Ziggs snaps. They fidget anxiously.

Emma sits up straighter, “Ziggy, what the hell is wrong with you?” She demands, “Are you sober right now? Do you need to smoke?”

“Yes and yes, but this is more important!”

Skud rests a hand on Ziggs' shoulder in an attempt to soothe them. “We saw what happens to the Honey Queen.”

Paul and Emma share a look. “What do you mean? She leaves town. She always does,” Paul responds.

“No, she doesn't! She gets eaten by some fucking monster mouth made of dead pigs!” Ziggs exclaims, flashes of the night before running through their mind.

Silence as their outburst hangs in the air.

“...Ziggy,” Emma starts slowly, “What have you been lacing your blunts with?”

“I- nothing!” Ziggs practically shouts, “I know what I saw!”

Emma frowns. “Really? Cause it sounds like you were doing ‘shrooms or smoking salvia.”

Next to her, Paul shifts. “Yeah. That seems more likely than whatever the hell you just said,” he agrees.

“I- forget it!” Ziggs throws their hands up in frustration before storming back out of the farmhouse, Skud right behind them.

Ziggs jerks open the door of the truck before climbing in. Skud slides into the passenger seat. He stays quiet as Ziggs starts up the truck once more.

They drive around Hatchetfield in silence for several minutes. They pass by the high school before entering a small neighborhood.

Out in front of one of the houses stands a small sign that reads yard sale. Tables littered with 80s memorabilia fill the yard.

Skud points to it. “Should we stop?”

“Yeah, why not?” Ziggs huffs as they pull the truck over to park by the curb.

As they climb out of the truck, a familiar voice calls their names. They both look to see a familiar man with dark curls and warm hazel eyes.

“Hey, Duke,” Ziggs greets as Skud nods. They look around at the displays. “Finally get tired of the retro?”

Duke gives a sad smile. “It's not mine. I'm selling it for a friend who sadly passed away.” He gestures to the items. “Take a look around, see if anything catches your eye.”

Another potential customer comes up to Duke, holding a bright purple leather jacket.

Ziggs doesn't wait to hear the offer the person makes, choosing instead to follow Skud through the maze of tables.

“Whoever Duke's friend was really seemed to like the 80s,” Skud comments.

“Yeah,” Ziggs replies vaguely, their mind far from the yard sale. Their eyes land on a table covered with candles and crystals. They frown slightly as they approach the table. 

Amongst the candles and crystals, there's a rectangular something wrapped in a red cloth.

Without thinking, Ziggs picks it up,  pulling back the cloth to reveal a black book with some unfamiliar symbol on the cover.

“A book?” Skud asks, raising an eyebrow.

Nodding, Ziggs flips it open to show a map of Hatchetfield. They frown as they notice certain places marked by stars. “Look at this,” they say as they hold the book out for Skud to examine.

Skud takes the book, examining the map. “That's the Starlight Theater,” he says, pointing to one of the stars. “Then Lakeside Mall… CCRP… Hatchetfield High… and the old Waylon place.”

“What do all those places have in common?” Ziggs wonders as they take the book back. They flip a few pages in, eyes widening as they catch sight of a certain word. “Isn't that the name Roman Murray said?” They ask urgently, showing the book to Skud once more.

Skud's bright blue eyes widen. “Yeah… yeah I think it is.”

The book closes as Ziggs quickly wraps it back in its cloth. “We need this book. You got any cash on you?”

“Uhh…” Skud pats his pockets before pulling out his wallet. He fishes out a five dollar bill. “Think this will work?”

“Worth a shot.” Ziggs takes the money from him before heading back to Duke. “Hey, any chance we can get this book for five?” They ask, holding up the book as they offer the money.

Duke frowns slightly, as if trying to remember something. The moment passes and he shrugs. “Sure.” He takes the bill. “Anything else?”

“Nope, that's it. Thanks, Duke!” Ziggs calls, already heading back to the truck.

Skud waves before jogging to catch up with Ziggs.

Once they're in the truck, Ziggs passes the book to Skud before they begin to drive. “What is that thing?” They ask, “Some kind of spell book?”

“I dunno,” Skud says nervously. He opens the book, flipping through the pages slowly. He frowns as he scans the words on the page. “It looks like it though.”

Ziggs’ thumbs tap against the steering wheel as they come to a stop at a red light. “You think this is how we find out about what happened?”

The book shakes slightly as Skud's hands tremble. “Do we want to know that bad?” 

“Dude, looking into this whole thing was your idea!” Ziggs reminds him. 

“Yeah, I know! But like…” Skud swallows thickly as the book flips shut once more. “This is big. Bigger than us, bigger than this whole town.” His eyes dart to Ziggs. “Are you sure we shouldn't get your dad involved?”

The light turns green. Ziggs starts driving again. “I already told you, he's probably too busy to deal with this,” they snap a little harsher than they mean to. “We have to figure this out ourselves.”

“Alright, alright.” Skud stares down at the cover of the tome. “First we gotta figure out exactly what that means.”

“I think it means stopping Nibb- you know,” Ziggs answers, “Maybe that book has a way we can do that.”

Reluctantly, Skud opens the book once more, turning the pages slowly. “What if we could talk to that thing?” He asks, pausing on a certain page. “This one is called ‘Holding Court with the Void.’ That sounds promising.”

Hands tightening on the wheel, Ziggs asks, “Okay, how do we do it?”

“Looks like we need a Black Altar,” Skud reads from the page. Paper rustles as he flips back to the map. “That must be these places marked on the map.”

“Remind me what they are again,” Ziggs requests. 

Nodding, Skud's eyes scan the map. “Lakeside Mall… CCRP… Hatchetfield High… the Starlight Theater… and the old Waylon place.”

“Well, we're not going to the old Waylon place,” Ziggs says with a shudder. “I think the mall is our best bet.”

“Yeah. Easiest to get into, for sure,” Skud agrees before flipping the book closed.

Silence fills the cab of the truck as they make their way to Lakeside Mall. Ziggs feels like they can't breathe. Their hands grip the steering wheel so tightly their knuckles turn white. 

Once the truck comes to a stop in the parking lot, Ziggs lets out a breath they didn't realize they were holding. 

In the passenger seat, Skud looks pale. “We really doing this?”

“Yeah, we are,” Ziggs confirms before opening their door.

They cross the parking lot, Skud close behind them.

When the pair enter the mall, Ziggs frowns. “Where are we going to do this?” They ask quietly as they look around at all the shoppers milling about.

“I dunno,” Skud answers. “Maybe we just walk around and we'll find a place?”

“Sounds good.”

After about ten minutes of trekking through the mall, Ziggs stops, grabbing Skud's arm to jerk him to a halt as well. “What about the Cineplex?”

Skud's eyes dart to the entrance of the theater. “Think that's still considered part of the mall?”

“One way to find out.”

The teenager at the ticket booth doesn't notice them approaching. Behind his glasses, his eyes flutter shut as he leans against the counter, bored.

Ziggs crouches, sneaking past the booth with Skud close behind.

Once they make it into the lobby of the theater, they straighten up again. “So we just pick a theater?” Skud asks as they slip past the empty concession stand.

“Yeah, why not?” Ziggs walks through a large door labeled with a 1, trying to ignore the way their heart hammers in their chest.

The silver screen looms large above them as they enter the theater. Ziggs looks over all the empty seats. “Okay, find that spell.”

“Uh…” Skud flips the book open, pages rustling as he searches for the spell once more. “Here we go: Holding Court with the Void.”

Ziggs leans in, meeting Skud's eyes. “Ready?” They wait for an affirmative nod before they begin to speak. “We invoke the names…”

Shakily, Skud's voice joins theirs, “Pokotho…”

Whispers seem to seep out of the speakers, only getting louder with the next name.

“...Bliklotep… T'noy Karaxis…”

Were the lights that shade of yellow when they entered the theater? Ziggs can't remember.

The next name they only know how to pronounce because they heard Roman Murray say it.

“...Nibblenephim…”

Pink light bathes the pair. Ziggs hears Skud take a sharp breath next to them. Their own voice cracks as they say the last name.

“...Wigogg Y'wrath.”

The lights turn green for the briefest second before the room plunges into darkness. Ziggs grabs Skud's arm, squeezing tightly.

“Did it work?” Skud whispers.

“Hello, friendy-wends.”

The lights flicker back to life, revealing five figures lounging in different spots of the theater. Ziggs and Skud stumble back together in shock, their backs hitting the wall.

“How boring,” one of the figures, dressed in a yellow and orange hoodie and orange cargo pants, with messy yellow hair, says as it fidgets with a yellow cube in its hands. It has its feet propped up on the seat in front of it,  ignoring the pair.

“Now, now, Tinky,” the figure wearing what appears to be a green American Eagle button down with the sleeves rolled up and the collar popped scolds. “We don't know what our paly-wals here want yet.”

Ziggs can hear Skud gulp. 

The sound attracts the green figure. He smiles wide, his teeth appearing razor sharp. He smooths back his perfectly styled dark green hair.

“Never thought I'd see the day,” The figure in a purple sundress with matching purple sunglasses giggles. The figure holds up a cell phone, as if taking a selfie.

“I know,” a figure in a blue beret and leather jacket responds.

“Yes, yes, Johnny’s kid summoning us is very funny,” the green figure says with an amused chuckle.

At the sound of their dad's name, Ziggs swallows. Their eyes dart from figure to figure before landing on the only one who hasn't spoken yet.

The pink beanie on the figure’s head has been pulled down so Ziggs can't see its eyes. Instead, all they can see is a wide, pink mouth that stretches into a hideous smile.

Ziggs’ heart plummets to their stomach. “It was you.”

“Yum yum,” comes the reply, followed by a biting motion in Ziggs’ direction.

“Yes, you saw Nibbly's sacrifice,” the green figure speaks, its emerald eyes glinting.

Ziggs finally finds their voice. “Yeah, what the fuck, man?”

The figures erupt into a chorus of giggles at the response. 

“Is that why you've called us here, Ziggy?” The green figure inquires. Its long fingers wiggle as it crosses its arms.

“How-” Ziggs starts, only to be interrupted.

“Oh, we know all about yours and Scotty’s noble quest to try to find out what happens to the Honey Queen,” the green figure chuckles, “I commend you for coming this far for answers.”

Skud speaks, his voice shaky. “How do we make it stop?”

Manical laughter echoes off the walls of the theater. “Stop? It won't stop,” Nibbly answers.

“Indeed,” the green figure agrees, turning those bright green eyes back on the pair. “If Nibbly doesn't get his sacrifice, he'll consume the whole world. The Honey Queen is doing a service, really. Sacrificing herself to keep the world safe.”

“But she doesn't know she's going to be sacrificed if she wins!” Ziggs argues as they squeeze Skud's arm tighter.

The figure in green shrugs. “So what? You can't stop it, Ziggy. Not unless you want the end of the world on your hands.” It cracks a wide smile. “And I don't think you want that.”

The lights go out once more. When they come back on,  Ziggs and Skud are alone in the theater.

-

That evening, Ziggs and Skud sit on the couch in the farmhouse. The rays of the setting sun filter in through the open windows.

They've been there for hours, silently passing joints back and forth until they've been smoked down to roaches.

Finally, Skud speaks, his voice cracking slightly, “So what do we do now? How do we, like, deal with knowing this happens every year?”

“I say we just forget,” Ziggs answers. “Like your dad said, people go missing in Hatchetfield every day. The Honey Queen is just another one of them.”

“Yeah, but those… Those things we summoned-”

Ziggs cuts him off. “Don't let it eat at you, man.” They reach for the pack of rolling papers on the coffee table, swearing when they find it empty.

Their eyes drift to the book. They reach for it, opening it and tearing out a page.

“What are you doing?” Skud asks, blue eyes filled with fear.

“The paper is thin enough to use for rolling,” Ziggs answers with a shrug as they begin ripping the paper into smaller sheets.

“Do you think that's a good idea?” Skud questions nervously.

Rolling their eyes, Ziggs reaching into a plastic bag to pull out some weed so they can roll the joint. “You're being paranoid, Skud. What's the worst that could happen?”

[egophiliac]

have you been keeping up with gavv? because holy hell, i think the beginning arc has been one of the strongest beginnings we've had. so many goddamn emotional moments and crazy good fights

oh Gavv has been excellent so far, I've been enjoying it a lot! :> Shoma's an absolutely delightful protagonist, and the balance between "cute silly candy shenanigans" and "urban fantasy crime noir" is...working surprisingly well, actually?

although it does lead to the show basically having two modes:

[trashyshrew]

[fascinationstreetmp3]

I have what you're looking for. High quality. Befitting a man of my tastes. I have a room over on Divisadero, not too far a walk.

[kizzer55555]

Welcome to the Restraint! (Restaurant)

Imagine Danny runs to Gotham and starts squatting in an abandoned old building in Crime Alley. Slowly putting some ecto into the place to claim it as his haunt (while recovering from the sudden loss of his old one). And he does the normal stuff to survive. Finds some odd jobs, often as a messenger, and is just surviving. Another thing he does is make his own food. It’s cheaper than takeout and he’s gotten pretty good at cooking (out of necessity instead of eating sentient hotdogs). Then he ends up accidentally taking in some street kids. Or more like they follow him home. He can’t just turn them away so he makes a meal for them and lets them stay the night then sends them on their way. And then it happens again. And again. And ok, so maybe he saved a girl from getting molested. And that older guy from getting his only good blanket stolen. And sure, maybe letting that poor pizza delivery guy rant was unnecessary but he looked like he was having a bad day ok? Pretty sure that kid with the scar is a meta too but…he needed a place to stay a few nights alright? It’s not like any of them stay permanently. Danny’s started picking up a few more odd jobs to pay for all the extra food he’s had to buy. Always keeping his place stocked. At least he doesn’t have to pay for water and a fridge, he just makes some ice (or melts it). Sure the water is cold, but it’s probbaly the cleanest water in Gotham. And then some of the people start paying. Like…actually paying in exchange for food. Not sure if it’s because of guilt or pity but Danny won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. And with all the money, he hasn’t had to take as many dangerous jobs. Soon, his little abandoned apartment became what’s essentially the closest thing to a legitimate restaurant in Crime Alley.

It didn’t look normal. The chairs and tables were more like old couches and stools pulled up to coffee tables and cabinets turned on their side. Although with the bulling becoming more like Danny’s haunt, the walls naturally started repairing themselves so at least it didn’t look like it was gonna collapse anymore. And ok…so Danny might have rescued a few feral kids who…weirdly have gold eyes. And possibly stopped a meta trafficking ring on accident. And look, these people didn’t have anywhere to go! And the apartment did have empty rooms. It was already known as a place someone could crash for the night (last winter the entire place was cramped with people. Danny had to break up multiple fights but they usually calmed down when he got there.)

One benefit from controlling a haunt is controlling the temperature inside so it was one of the only buildings with ‘heat’. But back to his…strays. So yeah…most didn’t seem like they could rejoin society…so he let them stay. And…they kind of became employees? Impromptu bodyguards? (Some of the golden eyed people almost felt like he was rangling feral ghosts again.) they came in all ages. A few kids, lots of teens, and a few adults. Same with the metas he rescued. They mostly helped deliver food to costumers. They even got a phone line working and could take orders. (Although the new…employees…also got more protective whenever a fight broke out.) With all the extra money he’s been getting he was even able to afford some medical supplies. A lot of his customers(?) came in injured and he tried his best to patch them up but now he could do more than tie some ripped clothing around the wound and use ice to numb it. He’s got bandages. And pain killers. Plus other medical stuff. He can even give someone stickers now! All that experience as an injured vigilante was paying off. Even Villains and goons start attending this place. The place was unofficially designated as one of the Alley’s ‘safe zones’ where no fighting takes place inside (the body guards make sure of it.) the metas and Talons are getting an identity for themselves, the street kids even get a job and a hideout, random people can go there for help or to pass messages, this place provides food, shelter, and medical care. No one wants it going down.

So yeah, welcome to the restaurant!

(I’m debating whether I want this to be the weirdest restaurant/safe place/truce area in the alley, or whether I want Danny to accidentally become a crime lord. Possibly both.)

Also, this place is called the Restraint because I keep misspelling Restaurant and I think Danny would do the same so the name stuck. (Or one of the kids spelled it when making a sign or passing around messages to spread the word of this safe place.)

So anyways, to add some angst, after Danny adopts a bunch of crime alley kids/villains they find out about Danny’s powers and that he’s a ghost, only they don’t know about Halfas so they think Danny is fully dead and this super kind guy who has been the only person to ever treat them like people…died. He died likely a long time ago and there’s nothing any of them can do to change that.

(And if the GIW dare to come into the alley, they better be prepared for the entire place to turn on them.)

[reasonsforhope]

"For the first time in decades, public health data shows a sudden and hopeful drop in drug overdose deaths across the U.S.

"This is exciting," said Dr. Nora Volkow, head of the National Institute On Drug Abuse [NIDA], the federal laboratory charged with studying addiction. "This looks real. This looks very, very real."

National surveys compiled by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention already show an unprecedented decline in drug deaths of roughly 10.6 percent. That's a huge reversal from recent years when fatal overdoses regularly increased by double-digit percentages.

Some researchers believe the data will show an even larger decline in drug deaths when federal surveys are updated to reflect improvements being seen at the state level, especially in the eastern U.S.

"In the states that have the most rapid data collection systems, we’re seeing declines of twenty percent, thirty percent," said Dr. Nabarun Dasgupta, an expert on street drugs at the University of North Carolina.

According to Dasgupta's analysis, which has sparked discussion among addiction and drug policy experts, the drop in state-level mortality numbers corresponds with similar steep declines in emergency room visits linked to overdoses.

Dasgupta was one of the first researchers to detect the trend. He believes the national decline in street drug deaths is now at least 15 percent and could mean as many as 20,000 fewer fatalities per year.

"Today, I have so much hope"

After years of wrenching drug deaths that seemed all but unstoppable, some researchers, front-line addiction workers, members of law enforcement, and people using street drugs voiced caution about the apparent trend.

Roughly 100,000 deaths are still occurring per year. Street drug cocktails including fentanyl, methamphetamines, xylazine and other synthetic chemicals are more poisonous than ever.

"I think we have to be careful when we get optimistic and see a slight drop in overdose deaths," said Dan Salter, who heads a federal drug interdiction program in the Atlanta-Carolinas region. "The last thing we want to do is spike the ball."

But most public health experts and some people living with addiction told NPR they believe catastrophic increases in drug deaths, which began in 2019, have ended, at least for now. Many said a widespread, meaningful shift appears underway.

"Some of us have learned to deal with the overdoses a lot better," said Kevin Donaldson, who uses fentanyl and xylazine on the street in Burlington, Vermont.

According to Donaldson, many people using fentanyl now carry naloxone, a medication that reverses most opioid overdoses. He said his friends also use street drugs with others nearby, ready to offer aid and support when overdoses occur.

He believes these changes - a response to the increasingly toxic street drug supply - mean more people like himself are surviving.

"For a while we were hearing about [drug deaths] every other day. When was the last one we heard about? Maybe two weeks ago? That's pretty few and far between," he said.

His experience is reflected in data from the Vermont Department of Health, which shows a 22 percent decline in drug deaths in 2024.

"The trends are definitely positive," said Dr. Keith Humphreys, a nationally respected drug policy researcher at Stanford University. "This is going to be the best year we've had since all of this started."

"A year ago when overdose deaths continued to rise, I was really struggling with hope," said Brad Finegood, who directs the overdose crisis response in Seattle.

Deaths in King County, Washington, linked to all drugs have dropped by 15 percent in the first half of 2024. Fatal overdoses caused by street fentanyl have dropped by 20 percent.

"Today, I have so much hope," Finegood said.

-via NPR, September 18, 2024. Article continues below with an exploration of the whys (mostly unknown) and some absolutely fucking incredible statistics.

Why the sudden and hopeful shift? Most experts say it's a mystery

While many people offered theories about why the drop in deaths is happening at unprecedented speed, most experts agreed that the data doesn't yet provide clear answers.

Some pointed to rapid improvements in the availability and affordability of medical treatments for fentanyl addiction. "Expansion of naloxone and medications for opioid use disorder — these strategies worked," said Dr. Volkow at NIDA.

"We've almost tripled the amount of naloxone out in the community," said Finegood. He noted that one survey in the Seattle area found 85 percent of high-risk drug users now carry the overdose-reversal medication.

Dr. Rahul Gupta, the White House drug czar, said the drop in drug deaths shows a path forward.

"This is the largest decrease on record and the fifth consecutive month of recorded decreases," he said.

Gupta called for more funding for addiction treatment and healthcare services, especially in Black and Native American communities where overdose deaths remain catastrophically high.

"There is no way we're going to beat this epidemic by not focusing on communities that are often marginalized, underserved and communities of color," Gupta said.

"Overdose deaths in Ohio are down 31 percent"

Indeed, in many states in the eastern and central U.S. where improvements are largest, the sudden drop in drug deaths stunned some observers who lived through the darkest days of the fentanyl overdose crisis.

"This year overdose deaths [in Ohio] are down 31 percent," said Dennis Couchon, a harm reduction activist. "The deaths were just plummeting. The data has never moved like this."

"While the mortality data for 2024 is incomplete and subject to change, Ohio is now in the ninth consecutive month of a historic and unexpected drop in overdose deaths," said the organization Harm Reduction Ohio in a statement.

Missouri is seeing a similar trend that appears to be accelerating. After dropping by 10 percent last year, preliminary data shows drug deaths in the state have now fallen roughly 34 percent in the second quarter of 2024.

"It absolutely seems things are going in the right direction, and it's something we should feel pleased about," said Dr. Rachel Winograd, director of addiction science at the University of Missouri St. Louis, who also noted that drug deaths remain too high.

"It feels wonderful and great," said Dr. Mark Levine, head of the Vermont Health Department. "We need encouraging data like this and it will help sustain all of us who are actively involved in trying to have an impact here."

Levine, too, said there's still "plenty of work left to do."" ...

Dasgupta, the researcher at the University of North Carolina, agreed more needs to be done to help people in addiction recover when they're ready.

But he said keeping more people alive is a crucial first step that seemed impossible only a year ago.

"A fifteen or twenty percent [drop in deaths] is a really big number, an enormous impact," he said, calling for more research to determine how to keep the trend going.

"If interventions are what's driving this decline, then let's double down on those interventions."

-article via NPR, September 18, 2024

[on-the-clear-blue]

To help boost relations with the people of Amity Park, Danny (with the help of Sam and Tucker) starts a podcast.

---

Tucker, sitting across from Danny in an abandoned house: So, continuing where we left of last episode before we were rudely interrupted by an overgrown man child dressed up like a vampire...Phantom, is it true that yoy are a sickly Victorian child that died at the ripe age of 12?

Danny, eye twitching at the comment: No...no I am not...sorry why do people think this?

Tucker, grinning ear to ear: oh, it's the frail weak voice and sad wet kitten energy.

---

Sam, looking up from her phone, bearly holding back laughter: Now for the question segment of the show...this one is coming from...Dashtom4life asking "if not twink why twink shaped?"

Danny, pained look on his face: Not...not a twink, I swear to the ancients I am not a twink.

Tucker, on the edge of loosing it: I-I don't know Phantom...G-Got a snatched waist...

---

Just the idea of Danny starting the podcast so he can help the people better understand ghosts and how they do things only for it to be derailed in the second episode to be 30 straight minutes of Sam and Tucker ragging on Danny and arguing about things that barely pretain to ghosts.

After Danny gets over the exasperation of having his podcast getting taken over, he gets a 10 minute weekly segment for talking about space.

(Jazz finds out later, and after a little bit of convincing, she gets roped into doing psyche evals on ghosts.)

[elderwisp]

eyes lit on sharp threats from dark lips

[cybertron-after-dark]

Hi sorry I'm still talking about Cyberverse, specifically the starscream getting therapy punchline, because yes it is very funny, but it's also a pretty big indicator of how Optimus sees the Decepticons even after countless eons of war.

Optimus witnessed Starscream's unhinged power trip, his resentment for Megatron, his insistence that he had been mistreated and that his rage was righteous, that it was justice, as well as his affection for the scraplets he called his children. Optimus saw all of that and decided that this was a deeply troubled mech, and now that he's in their brig and no longer a threat, the best thing they could possibly do is try to get him help.

Starscream successfully murdered nearly a dozen people and TRIED to murder way more, including Optimus himself, and he STILL thought there was hope for that mech. If that isn't commitment to restorative justice I do not know what is.

[yttdtextposts]

I did NOT realize that almost everything was shin lol..

Submit textposts/suggestions here

[wifeyoozi]

Imagine (gn!) you as the 14th member of seventeen and Jihoon your group mate has the biggest fattest crush on you. Everyone in the group knows this and finds it very funny because Jihoon is a loser who doesn't know how to act around his crush or show his feelings and you're an oblivious idiot who doesn't realise the very obvious fact that jihoon is wholly and entirely in love with you.

You two are always clingy to each other because Jihoon is your best friend (:D) and ofc you'd love spending time with him! And Jihoon is just going with the flow trying to ignore hoshi and dk who're constantly at his ass to tease him about it. You are almost like a couple in everything you do except you are just two best friends in a group.

So time goes by (prolly years, let's say) and eventually jihoon does some shit and confesses to you and you two start "officially dating". You tell the good news to your group but everyone is just so unsurprised with no trace of any reaction just ._. and jeonghan taps both of your shoulders appreciatively and says, "congrats, you two are the last to know that you are dating."

[didderd]

here, have a quick Stretch sketch. :3

[hajihiko]

Kuzukoma hitting the fucking bong send ask

lol me and Vi were talking about how those are the two guys who are some of the least likely to light up together (and yet maybe that's why the idea is compelling)

[yaralulu]

I sometimes wonder if the IC know what rhys did to feyre UTM,if he ever told them the truth.I highly doubt he came clean about everything and since feyre doesn’t remember much/is delusional because of the mating bond and the IC weren’t there—lucien is the only person who knows the full truth about rhys’s treatment to feyre UTM.I’m almost certain lucien still doesn’t like rhys because of what he saw him do to feyre every night for 3 months straight and rhys is fully aware lucien knows too much and thats why he doesn’t fully trust him.I hope that fact looms over rhysand’s head and he sleeps with one eye open 😊.

[shivroy]

waystar royco employee stress relief

[dragonciphering]

okay wtf is dan heng doing in the train during all this bullshit? star watching? playing bingo?playing sudoku? getting hyper focused on some research? drinking tea? sleeping? bcuz damn.