#hes pale and boney and hairy

[heresronnie21]

rick and mark better have not made nico conventionally attractive I swear to god i'll be pissed hE'S UGLY AND I KNOW IT

[mister-jekyll]

The Stranger

This story about my OC who’s a descendant of Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde. Right after Harry Jekyll Hurtmen first turned into Edwin Hyde. More about him here.

Warning: yelling and drugs (cigarettes).

John Matthew Avery came in late from work. He went to the University of Edinburgh for both law and medicine. He mainly wanted to be a lawyer, but the research in medicine always intrigued him.

John shared an apartment with a fellow student named Harry Hurtmen. A shorter man with ginger hair, blue eyes, and freckles. The met on an online forum and became best friends from shared interests.

John pulled his braids back then took out his key. He unlocked opened the door and opened it. He saw a figure on the couch and looked concerned. He told Harry to go to bed at a reasonable time.

“Harry?” He called out, “I swear if stayed up studying again—“

“Harry is not here.” The figure said, “I’m his… friend.”

John raised an eyebrow. He was curious about this man. He walked inside and turned on the lights to see him.

This man was extremely pale with green eyes, had long black hair in ponytail, and much taller than John’s best friend Harry Hurtmen. This mixed with the smell of cigarette smoke, the feeling John had for this man was of disgust and loathing.

“Ah! Johnny,” the man said with a grin, “I’m Edwin. Edwin Hyde.”

The man, Edwin Hyde, put his hand out for John to shake it. John noticed that his hands were almost skeletal. They were boney, hairy, and had black sharp talon like nails.

“Don’t call me that!” John said and refused the hand shake, “Where is Harry!?”

John was confused, angry, and scared. Edwin can easily overpower him in a fight.

John took that chance. He tried to strike Edwin but felt the other grab his fist. Instead of twisting it, Edwin stared. There was a slight blush on his face, and he held John’s hand for about a minute.

“Of course, he hates me,” Edwin mumbled and ran out of the living room.

John ran after him through the apartment. He saw Edwin go into a room.

Harry Hurtmen’s bedroom.

Edwin closed and locked the door of the bedroom, and John banged on it.

“Get out or I’ll—!” John stopped himself. He didn’t want to call the police. He didn’t trust the police. Not one bit. He continued banging on the door.

A few minutes later, a voice came out from the bedroom.

“John? What’s going on?”

The door was opened and Harry Hurtmen was on the other side.

“John, what is it?” He asked, “Why are you banging on the door?”

Harry’s hair was not tied up and was messy, he was in plaid pajamas, and he eyes were… off.

“Someone who claimed to be your friend was here and ran into your room.” John said and he saw Harry let him into the room.

The window was wide open, but the room looked pretty normal. Harry did have some his notes on his desk, but that was normal.

“That was um… Edwin,” Harry said nervously, “I’m helping him with school work. He must’ve didn’t leave to go home after I helped him… He jumped out of the window.”

John shook his head and sighed.

“Harry,” he started, “please just tell me when you invite someone over.”

Harry nod his head and looked down.

“I’ll say this now… Edwin is completely harmless.” He says, “He just can be a bit… rude.”

“Alright...” John said and left Harry’s room, “Night… just please be careful.”

John heard Harry closed the door and walked to his room. He soon stopped when he got his door.

Harry’s eyes were off. They weren’t the usual shade of blue as they normally were.

They were… red.

John shook his head and went to bed.

He must’ve imagined them red, right?

[allthingshetalia]

Are the axis innies or outies? And do they have any other physical quirks?

Italy

Outie

5’9 ft

We know he has a curl

Has freckles all over his shoulders

And when he spend a lot of time in the sun he gets them on his cheeks too!

When he was little he use to press the hard end of a paint brush into his cheek to make it look like he has dimples

He has had a lot of cavities but he has never had a tooth replaced, which is a miracle amoung nations

Is quite petite

But he’s a little curvy- has soft hips

Has a small perfect nose

Isn’t super hairy despite being Italian

The hair that he does have he likes to trim or complete shave it off

He has a few light stretch marks right above this butt

Has a soft layer of fat but wouldn’t be considered chubby!

He like them though, it makes him feel human

Has one stab wound in his thigh and it makes him feel very brave!!

He’s also very clumsy so he always some sort of scrape or scratch

Japan

Has a mole on the left side of his neck

And a few on his back

5’6 1/2 ft

He does wear lifts in his shoes sometimes- very rarely though

It’s hard for him to gain weight

He’s fairly boney

His body is straight up and down

His shoulders are broader than you would expect- maybe from working out a little

Has quite a lot of scars!

He’s second in line for most scars out of the axis

He has a really big one on his shoulder

His hair is always straight and he even bought a wig that matched his hair color but it was curly- he wanted to know what he would look like with curly hair

He was very annoyed when he looked better with curly hair

His skin is always flawless!!!

He does have a wobbly tooth that never falls out

Has almost no body hair

He hates that even in the sunlight his eyes are black

His fashion sense isn’t as good as you think it would be because Japan is filled with fashion icons

Most of his clothes are big and black/white

His nails grow really fast

But his hair takes forever to grow

Oh and he has an innie

Germany

Almost an outie but it’s still considered an innie

6’4 ft

His nose is on the larger side and is vaguely crooked (you have to stare at him a long time to notice it)

Butt chin

Has a dimple on his left cheek!!!!

Has a few freckles on his back

Doesn’t tan

Very broad and stands up high

Has some light scarring on his knuckles because he use to pick at them when he was nervous

His finger nails are super short and have been broken many times because of working on cars and motorcycles

He only had a couple of scars when he was little because Prussia kept a decent eye on him

He got a lot more when he was older though! Most of his scars are small

Most of his scars are from the First World War because of running in and out or trenches and barbed wire

He has a few bullet wounds, most of them have healed nicely but there is one on his lower back

His bottom teeth are a little crooked

Very bulky and not at all boney

Is shaped like a fridge

Like seriously stand by your big ass fridge and it’ll be like you’re standing next to him

His hair can get curly when it’s humid out

Prussia

6’0 ft

Was 5’10 for a long time but had a random growth spurt

His nose is quite crooked from being broken so many times

As we know he is albino so he is extremely pale and almost translucent

You can see his blue veins through his arm- which nurses/doctors love

He has the most scars out of the axis and almost the most out of all the countries

Has two really big ones on his back and they are just littered all over his body

His teeth were jacked up for a while but he finally got them fixed

He has really sharp canines though

He has broad shoulders and his chest is always puffed slightly- it doesn’t look unnatural, but it makes him look a little bigger than he actual is

His hands have always been calloused and will always be calloused

His feet are kinda gross and he always wears socks if he can (they are very dry and flaky and his boots have always been to tight for his feet)

Dyed his hair a lot during his punk faze- then he shaved his head

He also had a small man bun at one point in time

He’s inbetween being bulky, but yet lean

Is shaped more like a dorito/triangle

Romano

Has the softest most beautiful hair ever

It looks golden in the sunlight

Has olive eyes with specks of brown

Is a little chubby

5’10 ft

Has really nice calves from playing soccer

Is more on the hairy side

He gets hot easily and can sweat quite a bit

He always wear light clothing (that are dark in color) so he doesn’t have sweat stains

Also has a perfect nose

And really nice teeth

Has the ghosting of a cleft chin- but you have to look at him at the perfect angle

Doesn’t really have any bad scars, but he has quite a few burn marks on his hands and arms

Mostly from cooking and things like that

Is always really clean physically and he always smells really good

Also a little on the ‘curvy’ side

[boxboysandotherwhump]

The new boy in town.

Tags:  @salamancialilypad  @whumpfigure @albino-whumpee @comfy-whumpee  @ashintheairlikesnow   @haro-whumps   @moose-teeth @vickytokio​ @yet-another-heathen​ @orchidscript

Chapter 2

CW: body-shaming/ insults, discrimination/ dehumanization of mutants, an insect gets hurt, a nearly fistfight ensues

Heat thrummed through Gideon’s bones and throbbed in unison with his building headache. His patience had shriveled up like dried fruit under the torrid summer sun while this horrible lavender scent clung to his hair,  his skin, his clothes, making him dizzy.

It became stronger on the village outskirts, Gideon realized as he hurried after Director Sahin. The man ascended the crooked stone staircase effortlessly, his moss-green robe billowing behind him. His artfully decorated spear swayed with every step he took, not brushing a single leave. The only thing rustling through the underbrush was the wind and the creatures living there.

A twig caught in Gideon’s black curls, while the Director rambled on about the virtues of disciplinary work. How it encouraged the growth of one’s character, or some shit. The twig broke off with a quiet snap, painfully pulling at his scalp. Gideon’s mood dropped even lower. It was going to be a nightmare to fiddle all those shitty branches and leaves out of his hair later on.

He was seconds away from losing his barely-held composure. 

The only thing keeping him from bursting at the seams was the promise he’d whispered into his brother's grave, a last farewell bedded beside a corpse. 

Gideon had come to this godforsaken village to learn how to fight and survive in the forest, not to become some obedient little soldier boy! But in order to do that, he had to get cleared for training again and out of suspension.

If he had to play the director’s errand boy for a day to achieve that, so be it. He had endured worse.  

“Haaah, here we are.” Director Sahin inhaled deeply, arms falling wide. “Finally. My dear friend’s farm. Tell me, young Gideon, is it not simply beautiful?”

Gideon shrugged. “‘S’ okay.”

Granted, the house did look cozy, resting encircled by giant roots with its warm brick walls, but those gigantic snails everywhere sent a shudder down his spine. If he had to touch those slimy monsters he-

The farm’s sliding doors opened before he could utter a protest, and a fine-boned, middle aged woman emerged, followed by a huge man with a greying beard.  A boy, probably his own age but significantly shorter, held the door open for them.

The older woman’s lips curled into a crooked smile as she caught sight of Director Sahin, whose whole face had lit up. Dark eyes shining. 

“Moira. My darling. Please do not tell me you are about to leave? Not when I looked forward to seeing your beautiful face again.”

Gideon suppressed a gag. Moira crossed her arms, smile growing sharper. Her eyes held a warm twinkle as she spoke. “Eric; charming as ever.”

The man behind her stepped closer and huffed:  “M happy ‘ter see ya too, Eric.”

“Oh Ansgar you flatter me. But I must confess, I am not here solely for tea and a chat-“

The Director rattled on and Gideon’s focus wandered to the girl that had stepped out the door behind a blonde woman. A fancy grey blouse hung off her thin shoulders, nearly covering the  lace trim of blue silk short. A stark contrast to the more practical attire favored by most villagers. But that wasn’t what caught Gideon’s attention, no, he had seen all sorts of fancy getups up in Berlin -in the city's upper ring that is- what drew his eyes to her, was her face.

Its left side was oddly deformed, her pale skin uneven like a creased silk sheet, drawing her left eye down and her full lips up. She mouthed something to the boy, smiling, earning a smile from him in turn.

“Ah yes may I introduce: Gideon, my newest student.”

Having lost most of the adults’ conversation Gideon tuned back in just in time, to give them a curt nod.

“I will send him to collect the salve after the feast, then,” Director Sahin announced, please as can be. 

“Wonderful.” Moira clapped her hands. All back to business brusqueness.  “Sahar will appreciate not having to deliver it for once. Right?”

The other boy snapped to attention, green eyes wide and fingers twitching like the hands of a pianist. A grateful smile rose to his face and he nodded.

Oh great, so Gideon had to take the trip up here twice. 

They descended the stairs, lined up one after another on the narrow path. Sahar right in front of him, following the strange girl. He had avoided Gideon’s eyes as he squeezed past him, careful not to touch, probably scared off by his uniform. The school’s emblem, embroidered on his stainless white shirt, proudly declared him a scout in training. Deadly. Fearless. The little farm boy definitely did better not to mess with an insect slayer like him.

The girl came to an abrupt halt, frozen in the woodland’s shadows before it gave way to the dusty hill road. Gideon nearly collided with Sahar, when he heard it.

A primal, bone chilling hiss tore through the hot afternoon air, rattling through his very core. 

Every hair on his body stood, muscles tensing, on edge just like his fraying nerves. 

He knew that sound. 

Even though he’d heard it only once before. On the crusade from last-stand-berlin to the village, where he had seen the beast it belonged to lurk on the riverside, watching them.

He would never forget a spider’s hiss. 

And there one stood, right in front of him, its eight thorny legs towering high above its ugly head. The spider’s giant yaws worked, rubbed against each other in agitation. Its razor sharp fangs glistened in the sun.

A man sat atop its massive, hairy body, scar-faced and clad in a straw cape that was fastened to a beetle’s shell armoring his left shoulder. Shimmering in iridescent hues of blue and green. The man did not smile as he glanced down at them. A silent challenge was edged in the hard lines of his rugged face.

Tense static filled the air, an almost tangible thing that bit at Gideons fingers. It wormed its way into his bones, crawled over his scalp.  

He almost, almost, flinched when Director Sahin shouldered past him, spear drawn and followed by the other man. Both planted themselves right in front of him and the others.

The intruder’s scar stretched with the rise of his eyebrows, eyes slitting in a lazy half-grin.

 “Hey, there. Hold your horses. Before someone does something he regrets later.”

“That a threat?” Ansgar grunted.

Moira ducked past him, face twisted in a furious scowl as she spit. “Oh, something other than entering our village on a damn wolf-spider you mean?!”

The corded muscle in her boney arm flexed as she shook her fist at the man, unveiling a wrath behind her primly dressed form that no one would have wanted to fall victim to.

He, however, just leaned closer, smile stretching into a shark-tooth grin. “Gutsy, are we? I like that.”

Director Sahim stepped up beside her, spear held in a steady grip. “How could you make it past our InD-Units with this monstrosity?! God show you mercy if you did something to-”

“What do you think I am?!” the intruder drawled, hands raised in mock offense. “A monster?! Only reason I got past your insect defenses was this baby here.”

Gideon had to stand on his tiptoes to catch a glance of the small round device that sat embedded into the spider’s head, partly hidden by the man’s straw cape. A little red light blinked in a steady rhythm above three buttons, which the man was careful not to touch as he rapped his knuckles against it. 

“Renders her absolutely obedient. All natural instinct turned off. See?”

He unsheathed a knife from a holster strapped around his leg and its steel blade shimmered in the sun before he rammed it in one of the spider’s eyes, plopping it out with a nauseating plitch. The spider endured its master’s violation in utter stillness, only its yaws twitched, creating this awful hiss in their never ceasing movement.

 “She’s docile as a lamb.”

“And how exactly is that supposed to work?” the girl inquired, meeting the man’s stare with a calculated cold composure. She ignored the incredulous look the blonde woman gave her, as she mouthed: “Charlotte, what are you doing?”

The intruder's mouth twitched.

“Man, what do I know, Missy?! I’m a mutant hunter not a scientist.” He leaned closer, eyes narrowed, fixed on the girl's deformed face. Venom spiked his words, dripped from his tongue like acid. “My expertise lies in chasing down freaks.”

The condescendingly cruel way in which he spoke, wielding words like a weapon meant to pierce and twist where it hurt most, reminded Gideon oddly of his father. Anger welled up in his chest, buzzed down his legs and made them move. He planted himself right between the girl and the intruder.

How dare he compare someone to mutant scum?!

“Tsk. Mutant hunter?! You’ve ever even seen one? Or are you just talk? Threatening girls?!”

“Gideon.”, Director Sahim hissed, squeezing Gideon’s shoulder in warning as he tried to pull him back. 

The man gave them a wry smile. “No no. Let’s hear him out. Have you ever seen one boy?”

“Yes.” Gideon spat, unable to reign his emotions back in. “They’re hideous monstrosities.  And I’m going to find and kill every single one of them.”

The man burst into violent laughter, shoulders shaking and head thrown back, nearly losing his balance under the force of it.

“You do have guts, I give you that. But also lots to learn. Do you really think a girl can’t be a mutant? Monster’s come in all shapes and sizes, boy.” His eyes wandered back to Charlotte.  “Just ugly, that’s the whole lot of them.`` 

The blonde woman gasped, searching for words to shoot back, but falling silent as she noticed Charlotte’s expression. 

Red blotches burned on her face, rage twisting it into a vicious scowl. The afternoon sun set her copper curls on fire. Ready to spew fury and flames, she opened her mouth but Sahar was faster, his small voice piping up.

“Char- Charlotte is… is no- no mutant and and and she’s neither ugly nor weak. And and and people who talk about, talk about killing others for no- no, no reason are… They’re the- the real monsters.”  

His fingers fiddled with his shorts, tapping and twisting in the dark, worn linen as he stumbled over his words. His big green eyes jumped from the rocky street to the spider’s fangs, lingered on the intruder’s face before landing on Gideon. They narrowed as he all but spat the last words in Gideon’s face.  

“The hell you just said?!” Gideon’s nostrils flared. How dare this little runt run his mouth about things he didn’t know shit about!

Crossing his arms, Sahar forced himself to hold his ground against Gideon’s furious, wide eyed stare.  “You you, you heard me.”

Gideon heart hammered in his throat, pumping liquefied fire through his veins. His hands twitched.

“I give you one chance to take. That. Back.”

The boy’s trembling fingers dug into his forearms, knuckles whitening as he lifted his chin.

 “Never.”

A roar tore from Gideon’s throat as he leapt forward. Rage burned through him like a wildfire, ready to ignite everything his fist would come in contact with.

Beating the selfritousnes out of that stupid stammering farmboy was the only thing that mattered now. Everything else blurred to background noise. Even the stranger on his shitty spider. 

In that frozen second between charge and impact, Sahar’s  feet moved. His body tilted to the side. Dodged Gideon’s blow. Effortlessly. He bounced back. Landed on the first stone step and uncrossed his arms. Ready to defend himself. His fingers had stopped twitching.

That little runt had nerves! 

Gideon broke into a sprint.

“You sure are good at dodging!” He swung his arm back. “Try to handle this!”

Muscles flexing Gideon readied for impact, only for his arm to be janked back. A  large hand had wrapped around his wrist. Stopped him mid punch.  Craning his neck, Gideon stared up into Ansgar’s stern face.

Fuck he’s fast?! 

“Looks like ya still got lots t’ learn about respect ‘n self-discipline, young man.”

Director Sahin sighed, eyes still locked on the intruder, who watched the spectacle with a lazy kind of interest.

Ansgar released Gideon’s hand and turned to Sahar. His grey eyes glistened like ice shards. “Same goes for you. Ya disappointed me, Sahar.”

Sahar blinked up at the man, eyes round and full of disbelief.

“Wh-what- what, what do you, do do do do- what do you  mean?”

“I haven’t trained ya to run off ‘n start mindless fights. I tried to teach ya discipline ‘n how to survive these woods.” Ansgar’s voice did not waver and every word made Sahar shrink into himself. His fingers tapped a hectic distorted rhythm over his leg

The intruder snickered, “someone’s a stuck up,” earning Moira’s venomous glare. 

“But- but I didn’t- he he he he he was, he was the one who-“

“Enough,” Ansgar thundered. “Don’t argue with me. If ya want a beatin’ so bad I’ll give ya one later. And now back t’ the farm. Ya grounded for the week. No fest. No nothin’!”

Sahar crumbled under the man’s anger, head ducked between his shoulders as the first teardrop fell. It trickled down his trembling jaw, painting a glistening path on his warm skin.

Voice reduced to a shaky exhale Sahar nodded,  “yes, sir.”, and stormed up the stairs.

He had just vanished between the thick bushes, when the intruder broke out into a new laughing fit.

[justsmilestuffhappens]

4. Christmas movie

The living nightmare that ended in Christmastown

Buck sighed as he got out of his little hut. It was just another day of errands. He didn't have friends really, well barely.

All of Halloweentown was pretty mean to him. Well more than mean, they were just awful. He didn't get why, they just were.

His faded clothes helped him blend in an night. Dark green like rotting flesh and deep red like dried blood. All on top of his pale white completion near to a ghost. But his rosey cheeks, lips, and nose as well as his sparkling blue eyes always gave it away he was different.

He moved the bats home on command only to disrupt the cats den. At least the animals didn't hate him, he always found them cute.

Buck hated being a wendigo. If his horns would just stop growing back he could hide in a thrown away cloak among them anonymously.

The vampires and werewolves chased him into the woods saying he was dinner while laughing.

He tried to calm his heart but he fell into a hollow tree's roots.

He woke covered in cold ash.

"Hi mister reindeer. Are you okay?" A little boy with pointed ears asked.

"What? Where am I?" Buck asked.

"Umm. This is Christmastown. Are you not from here? I'm Christopher" the boy offered his hand balancing on a crutch.

Buck got up to properly introduce himself.

"A howling hello. I'm Buck the wendigo." he shook his hand making sure not to make him fall over. "At least that's what everyone calls me, other than names I don't like repeating."

"Christopher! You know you shouldn't be out alone. Who's this?" A man came over looking suspiciously at buck.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I'll just be going. I don't want to cause any trouble." Buck moved to run before they could hang him by his ankles or drop books on his hands as punishment.

"No wait. Daddy this is buck. I think he's lost." Christopher said pleading with buck to stay just with his eyes.

"Hmm. Well if you're not from around here then we need to take you to see Mrs. Clause. I'm Eddie." He offered his hand to buck.

After shaking his hand Buck watched him pick up his child and then tell him to follow.

"What's burning to make all this ash?" Buck wondered.

"Ash?" Eddie asked.

"Have you never seen snow before?" Christopher asked poking his head around his father.

"What's snow?" Buck asked.

"You're walking in it." "All this around us Buck" they both said.

"Oh! I think I like snow."

They came to a giant house that sat in the middle of what was their village.

All around were bright strings and balls of light.

"Well we're here." Eddie opened the door after putting Christopher down.

"Don't be too scared of Mrs. Clause she's intimidating but if you've done nothing wrong you'll be fine." Christopher smiled.

A woman in a red suit came down the stairs after Eddie rang a bell.

"Eddie. What brings you here tonight?" She asked.

"Ms. Clause we found this stranger and were hoping you could help him or know what to do. His name's buck and he's a wendigo."

"Eddie you know you can cut the formalities. Hello Buck, I'm Athena. Are you from Halloweentown by chance?" She asked looking at his horns then to his tattered clothes.

"Yes ma'am. But can I stay here. I like it better. I promise I'll do anything. I can clean and I'm good with animals. I don't want to go back there. Please." Buck was ready to get on his knees and beg.

"Do you like sweets? I have some candy canes you can have. I need to go check something quickly but I think I can let you stay here." With that she went outside into the cold.

"So, you all really don't have masquerade balls here? What Christmassy things do you do?" Buck asked sucking on a candy cane as Eddie laughed knowing Christopher was going to love explaining what they did for fun.

"So that covers the Games and Gifts. Celebrations, Decorations, and Relations. Umm. Feasts and Treats should be next." Christopher listed handing over the next picture book to show buck.

"Wow. It sounds so nice here. I really hope I can stay. Y'all are a lot nicer than the people where I live."

"What are they like?" Christopher asked eyes lighting up for new knowledge.

"Oh. Well, umm. They're spooky and creepy. They scare you and dare you. Delite and then freight you then to top it they'll spite you. They'll trick you and prick you. Give treats that can stick you. Some are both scary and hairy. Can ensnare you but spare you. They shout you and doubt you. But they're funny and runny too. Really, I think they just know I'm a scaredy cat that doesn't like frightening others."

Buck frowned looking at the paper snowflake. It reminded him of the spiderwebs he liked and had a tattoo of that he didn't remember getting.

"The animals were nice though. Like only a few of the others monsters there"

They startled at Ms. Clause coming in with a lady.

"There he is." Athena said looking at Buck.

"Evan! Oh goodness. We've found you." She threw herself at him wrapping him in the warmest hug.

"Who's Evan?" He asked as he struggled to pull away from the hug.

"He goes by buck now. He might have been cursed to forget or it's just been that long Maddie. Look at his head, they've obviously done other things to the poor boy."

"I'm Maddie Buckley the elf. You're my bother Evan Buckley an elf too. I'm your big sister. You went missing for so long. It's been almost fifteen Christmases since I've seen you."

"What? That can't be true." Buck shook his head.

"Look at you arm. Your birthmark is a snowflake just like mine. We have the same parents," She showed him.

"He said it was a spider web" Christopher said looking as they pulled them closer to see they matched.

"We might need to ask old father time for help but we'll get whatever curse or jinx lifted. I promise on my sleigh." Athena said earning a gasp from the other.

"That's serious right?" Buck asked.

Both Eddie and Christopher nodded as Maddie cried into Ms Clause's shoulder.

Buck may not know or remember her but he came over to hug this elf lady he just met. It didn't sit right with him for her to cry.

A couple of days later Buck's horns were a mere decorative headband again. He'd been given fresh clothes too. He was still fairly tall for an elf but less boney.

" Are you ready for our next elf lesson Buck." Christopher asked as the others watched sipping hot chocolate.

"The perfect snowball." Buck nodded while gathering snow.

"He likes you too you know." Maddie said to Eddie while in Chimney's arms.

"I don't know what you're talking about" Eddie feined ignorance.

"How did you get the witches to lift the curse so quickly?" Chimney asked Athena.

"It was easy. They're scarce on mistletoe for potions but we have plenty. It was an fair trade and they promised never to do something like that again, made an oath." She said.

Buck came rushing over to talk.

"Eddie, Maddie, look at this. Christopher says it's perfect for throwing. Eddie, will you be our moving target for practice please." He asked as Eddie was already getting up.

"Oh. Buck, Eddie, look up." Chimney said.

"Hmm. Speaking of mistletoe." Maddie laughed as they blushed.

Buck placed a kiss on Eddie before retreating to Christopher.

Eddie stood still as a snowman before rushing to follow.

[yoshi8869]

Chapter 1: Sunlight

“Will you ever leave me?”

“…”

The wind rustled through the trees. Silence lulled the two boys to peace in the meadow below the mountains.

“I mean it… Will you?”

“No. Of course I won’t.”

The sun was falling below the summit of one of the peaks towering above them. It grew cooler.

“But I mean forever.”

“Forever?”

A single leaf fell next to one of the boys��� head.

“You’re my best friend. I need you.”

The breeze shifted as it rolled off the mountain, blowing the leaf away.

“Forever…?”

“Forever. I promise.”

It was cast into the twilight. Shortly after, a rain fell. And it kept raining. Some say it’s raining still…

But what ever happened to that leaf, I wonder?

#

Silence. Then, suddenly: breath. A slow inhale followed by a long, quiet exhale. Silence. Deafening silence. Silence louder than any sound. Cold, like a thin sheet of ice over a calm lake in the middle of winter. It echoed of home. Home? What was home? Why is it so familiar? Suddenly: warmth. No, heat. Heat, growing warmer and warmer. Hotter and hotter. Then, a flash of light: brisk, yellow sunlight that left a reddish orange smear, outlining the capillaries upon closed eyelids. This felt like something he’d known from before, only stronger and brighter.

Open your eyes.

It was a sound that seemed to come from within: from inside the mind, almost like a subconscious, omnipotent being that commands and dictates every move. Like thought. Thought?

All at once, the light consumed everything. The yellow glare blinding and powerful. Sunlight. Why was it so brutal? Then, as if out of nothing, a memory came streaming back.

Day and night. Light and dark. Black and white.

This was the world he had always known: the world as he had been taught his entire life.

At last, after baking in the sun for the better part of an eternity, he mustered the strength to stand up. With every ounce remaining in his mangled, sprawled body lying motionless in tattered clothing on the scorching, desert floor, he rose. He stared away from the sun, not able to bear it any longer. He looked to the left, then glanced right.

No one. Nothing. There he stood, in an empty world, devoid of any life, sound, or color. Where was this? What was before this? What comes next? The questions berated him, but the answers just as vacant as the wasteland laid out before him and all around him.

The heat was like a weight, pressing down on his body: like carrying a two-ton boulder on your back across a desert in the sweltering heat. Heat like this was… unfamiliar, to say the least. It wasn’t the warmth that, in the back of his mind, he felt he used to know. No. This was the heat that killed men. Hell? If it wasn’t, then it was certainly close. But why? Why was this his apparent destiny? What did he do to deserve such horrific treatment? Sprawling wasteland and endless heat. The goddamn heat. Who could survive in—

What was that? That sound. It was the first sound he had heard since he started walking and it certainly wasn’t his own doing. But what was it? Was there something out here with him? No. There couldn’t be. This was where men went to die. No man could—

Again. No, it must be his imagination. There’s no way it was—

No, there was something out here with him. But where? There’s nothing here. No one for kilometers. This was no man’s land, not even his own. For, he thought to himself, if any man could own hell, he wouldn’t live long enough to enjoy it.

At once, a feeling engulfed him at his core. It was as though he could feel every last little blood cell surging and pumping through his arteries and back through his veins. He felt himself perspire. A sudden compulsion to start running overtook him, even though he had no idea what was chasing him, or perhaps because he had no idea what was chasing him. In the back of his mind, he could recall what this was—

Fear.

The silence stopped.

“Greetings, outlander.”

He shook with anxiety. The last thing he wanted to do was turn around. He thought of all other possible options. Endless, empty space. He could barely walk, let alone run. No chance of escape. Apprehensively, he turned to face the sun once more.

There stood the silhouette of a man, towering over like an obelisk in the sun. He stood a chiseled statue in comparison to the lanky, malnourished ghost standing before him. He had on a khaki, rough-skin vest atop a stained, white tunic with a v-shaped indention at the neck with thread to keep it tied together, although he seemed to neglect that function. On the tunic, there were marks of mud, dirt, and what could only be made out as blood dotted about. Below that, he wore brown trousers covered in dust and torn along the bottoms near the ankle.

His face, though hard to make out, was boney and covered in thick, black hair. His hair reached down to his upper shoulder blades. His beard, however, seemed fragmented and patched around the upper left cheek and in places along the jaw line. His tan skin only further blurred his figure in the sunlight. He carried a sheathed dagger on his left hip and what appeared to be another one hidden under the right half of his vest. On top of all this, he had a tattered knapsack slung across his shoulder. All of these details registered in his mind in the blink of an eye. Fascinating.

“What’s your name?” said the man.

With all his might he tried to remember. No, not his name; that was far too beyond him, but, rather, how to speak. Much like the desert, it seemed his memories had been laid to waste. He opened his mouth and pushed the words out by exhaling and forcing out sound. His articulation was a whole other task he wasn’t ready to take on just yet.

“Ida… Idun… Doughn… Don’t”

He struggled with the words.

“Do you not know, son?”

He shook his head.

The man laughed with a hearty smile.

“Most people in your situation at least know how to speak. We’ll work on that, boy. Come with me.”

He motioned to follow. But what would following him offer? Why should anyone follow a stranger in a wasteland with nothing but strands on their back? But what was his other option? Die alone in the torturous heat of the barren wasteland. Ok, he thought to himself. He’d go. His odds were slightly better this way, so he followed.

The hairy man kept up his pace, leaving the boy behind in his tracks. As they started moving, the large man fiddled in his knapsack for something. He pulled out a substance and ushered for the boy to take. With hesitation, the boy snatched the substance out of the big man’s hand. He analyzed it carefully, but nothing in the deepest logs of his mind could identify what this was.

“Eat,” the burly man coaxed.

The boy saw no value in that word and continued to study the substance.

“By the Light, boy,” the bearded man stopped in his tracks to berate the lost young man following him. “Put it in your mouth and swallow. Trust me.”

The towering man, with a halfhearted grin, stood arms folded as the boy took a small bite. Soon, instinct took over and the boy started scarfing the substance down his throat. The grizzly man let out a guttural laugh and continued on his way. The boy, too distracted by the substance to take notice, ran after the now distant man. And so, the great trek through the wasteland began.

The relentless beams of light from the sky receded into a somewhat dim resemblance of what once was unbearable. For a moment, if only for one shred of a moment, the wasteland actually felt… tolerable. The scraggly man had led him thus far, but for how much longer until they arrive at this unnamed safe haven?

“Not much longer, outlander,” he said, as if feeling the silent questions of the young ghost following at his side like a confused dog following his master to safety.

They trekked their way over small cliff sides, around colossal rock spires, and through small depressions, which made the world around them seem to tower above like a mighty, looming threat. But the brave man felt no fear, or so it seemed to his newfound companion. After what felt like half a lifetime, the sun set and they arrived at a small makeshift campsite at the edge of a small cliff near what appeared to be a cave. The colossal man collapsed down into a chair set against the wall of rock left of the entrance to the cavern.

“Sorry for being so silent, outlander.” said the man calmly. “It’s just… This happens so often as of late, you learn to just go through the motions and forget the details that actually make your job worthwhile. You see, I’m used to telling stories and entertaining my guests, but I’ve learned after telling them so much that I often confuse details or tell different parts of the stories than before: some of which may or may not have actually happened, I’m starting to figure out. My memory is failing me”

He let out a soft chuckle, then a sigh.

“It seems people these days have lost value for the truth… or maybe they’ve forgotten it entirely…”

He trailed off into silence, deep in thought, but the ghost was far too attentive of the looming darkness to contemplate what he was saying.

“You’re probably wondering why it’s getting dark, arnt’cha?”

The ghost nodded.

“There’s much you’ve forgotten about the world around you.”

He stared at the pathetic, pale thing before him, now sitting and eager to listen.

“I suppose it’s time.”

A moment of silence inserted its way into the conversation for just a second more before he continued.

“You’re going to hear a lot of stories and tales about where you are, what it means, and why it’s here. That is, if you choose to assimilate into their society: something I’ve long refused to do. People these days just get under my skin, honestly. There’s much more out here under the sun and the stars. It’s amazing how this huge, empty space of sprawling void can hold more bearings than a thriving metropolis with people every size, shape, and color. Sometimes a wealth of knowledge is more useless than a vat of ignorance. Take that as you please.”

He sat there staring at the sky, folding his arms across his chest, grinning as he spoke.

“Truth is, I think the more you think you know, the less you understand. Allow me to elaborate. These are the Wastes. Plain and simple. Just plains of nothingness, to the untrained eye. But, from the sky, we get water; from the rocks, we get shelter; from the ground, we get food. For an ‘educated’ fella from over in the city, these plains are barren and lifeless. For some brainless idiot like myself, these are fields of riches and bounty. They don’t notice the details that, for me, make life worth living. It’s all how you look at it, I suppose. Everything’s a matter of perspective… Or so it’s said.

“I guess my point is, the stories I could tell you will be flawed, but they are what you make of them: truth or no truth. And don’t think that’s just for me. Everything’s a matter of perspective, my small friend, and some people here have quite a way of telling stories. But they’re all just stories, you know? The truth is something else entirely; and it’s in there… waiting for an unsuspecting passerby to snatch it up from out of the lining. That’s up to you to find, I suppose. And once you’ve found the ‘truth,’ you too can start telling your own stories, and I think I’ll let you find your own way and save you from one of my boring tales.”

He leaned back in his chair, as if trying to get a better view of the sprawling starlit night sky: a rich, black hue. He moved his hands and folded them behind his head, letting in a silent inhale in followed by a suspended, tame exhale. His mildly foolhardy demeanor snapped like twig and his grin straightened as he spoke.

“We’re outcasts; criminals; the forgotten souls. I’ve made an effort to drag every poor soul out of the heat and into the cool dwellings of my cave, but it seems more and more bodies end up on the grounds of the Wastes by the day, and it’s not like these bodies all end up in the same place, like some depot I can go to retrieve them. I have to search these grounds before those bandits find you first.”

A flash of fear lit up the once lifeless ghost. For a second, he was full of fear again.

“Truth be told, it seems like it took me a while to find you. You were… well, um… ‘well-baked’ if you will, despite your pale figure. But that’s merely a side-effect of the malnourishment you’ve received over some time. Which reminds me…”

The man sat up and got out of his chair. He reached into a small knapsack and retrieved a fruit.

“Eat this.”

The ghost hovered over to him and began eating right away. He didn’t understand hunger, but he knew it was a problem. Instinct, once again, took over.

“My fault for not giving you more earlier. My mind’s been a bit… preoccupied today.”

The man sat back down and resumed his relaxed posture.

“Where was I?”

The man paused and raised his hand to scratch the bottom of his chin. Then his face lit up and he continued.

“Ah, yes. For whatever reason, those damn bandits weren’t anywhere to be found. But, I have to say, judging by your figure, I think I have my own theory as to why you’re still alive. Still, I wonder why you remained there so long. On top o’that, most retain their basic cognitive functions, they just fail to recall specific memories. You are an enigma to me, that much is certain. I roam these Wastes searching for anyone who’s lost and wants to be found. Problem is… not everyone out here wants to be found.

“You. You took my hand, metaphorically speaking. You made your first decision out here in the land of unforgivable heat. Who knows what that could entail? But you need to make one more decision. You can choose to stay here with me or you can venture further through the heat and find civilization. But if you choose to do that, I cannot take you. And the only issue with staying here is… well… you can’t. I mean… I’ll teach you all I can, but then you must venture into this world on your own. Which will you choose?”

The pale aura returned to the ghost’s body. He felt at a loss for words, perhaps because he was just learning how to speak again.

“Tie. Time. I wanna… I need time. Time to thing…nk think.”

“Alright. I’ll give you until morning, my small, ghostly friend. But tomorrow my courier, Nikk Gunner, will arrive to either take you to the city or leave you here. Then, by nightfall in three sunrises, if you choose to stay, you will enter the Wastes at your own peril. The choice is yours, and it is a big one. Sleep on it and we’ll decide in the morning, eh?”

The man arose from his chair and threw a rusted tin bucket of water over the thin flames that had been burning at the front of the campsite.

“When you’re ready, you have a pallet over by the oil underneath the rough skin tarp. It’ll be your shelter from the weather. In the meantime, I’ll be in the cave if you need me. I can help you in whatever way you need, if you require it, that is. It’s important to have friends out here, outlander, and now you have one. Keep it up.”

The man walked into the cave, leaving the ghost alone, blending in with the darkness. He felt as if an ember had gone out in his breast. That darkness… He remembered… The feeling itself had come full circle. He tried to shake the hopelessness and fear, but he couldn’t.

Wastes…

What was this place?

Where was he going?

What did any of this mean?

All he could think about were the questions this man had tried so haphazardly to answer, but proved to no avail. His mind raced and his nerves intensified. He shook as he trembled over to his pallet on the cold, hard ground. At this moment, he almost envied the feeling he had in the day. He almost yearned for the blistering heat to alleviate this tight, sharp cold.

It got worse by the minute- no, by the second. His fears seemed to perspire from and perpetuate in the cold and the fear seemed to intensify the cold itself. It was a cruel cycle and only seemed to accelerate.

He collapsed onto his pallet, almost in tears. He didn’t understand why his throat began to choke him and his face felt heavy, almost like a mask plastered to his skull. He could not bear it any longer. He inhaled, ready to unleash an outpour that felt contained upon the surface—

“Outlander!”

A shock raced through his nervous system, from head to toe. Though it was nearly instantaneous, it felt like the shockwave lasted a millennium as he felt every inch of his body swallow up in fear. Was this kind man about to reveal his true intentions? Was he a psychotic killer of innocent spirits that washed up on the shores of this living hell? Was he the reaper of souls coming to rip from his flesh the essence of his very being?

“In my urgency to talk, I forgot to tell you my name. I am Lazarus Erei, but you can call my Laz.”

Lazarus? A name? This man had a name? For whatever reason, it never crossed his mind.

“Anyway, sorry to startle you. Good night.”

Lazarus. Lazarus Erei. “Laz.”

It was a name. It was his name. His friend. The young man let out a relieved exhale. This sudden revelation made him feel like all his worries were nothing more than obscene paranoia. All at once, the tight feeling of fear took a breath. He was being protected. He had safety. He was finally able to relax. The cold felt like nothing more than a breeze in the thin air. He was finally able to sleep.

The lights were gone. The heat had died. And the chill was barely a whisper. He closed his eyes and escaped from this world. He had completed his first day and he was alive. That’s all that mattered. He let out an exhale and smiled. The fears died. The whisper of nature’s chill began to erode into nothing at all. The sounds faded. The world he had just endured began to feel just like the dream he felt before entering it. His mind slowly surrendered. The world around him grew quieter and quieter. Then, suddenly, silence.

[ask-offduty-borsalino]

Beachfront Fun.

The Navy admiral had started to notice Mitsu's apparent boredom, no matter what island they went to she seemed bored after the second day. He had only started to truly worry when lieutenant Noot had to point out to him Mitsu was laying face down on the deck, bored out of her gourd. Luckily, the next island destination was a perfect idea. In the West blue a island Navy base is also know for it's thriving tropical feel, this island is known as Naop. The civilians were know for the massive resort and beach, and that's when it hit him. The beach. Mitsu was part fishman so water was something of a second home to her, the beach was the best way for him to allow her to have fun, and let him have fun as well. So when he had asked the girl if she wished to go to the beach on Naop, she had practically bounced off the walls. When the big ship finally docked it took a day for Borsalino to book a week stay. That had led to the situation as it was know, the crew scattered about on the sand and Borsalino with Mitsu, Noot, and Marimo having just changed into beach wear. The man of light had changed into a pair of swim trunks and sandals, the swim trunks having the Navy symbol on the butt, and his signature sunglasses still there. His chest was hairy, something a few crew members had mocked, and under his arm he held the beach blankets and other things. Noot had shed his usual heavy clothing and looked oddly out of place, with a pair of plain blue trunks his skinny upper body was shown in all glory. His scrawny chest was speckled in scars and stitches just like the rest of his body, and the nub of his left arm was pale and boney where a fragment of his shoulder joint was still there. His black hair was out for all to see, long and elegant. His prosthetics were shinier than usual, most likely from the sun. Then there was little Marimo, jumping up and down in the sand like a mad dog.

[boxboysandotherwhump]

Chapter two: Intruder 

The chapter was again proofread by @haro-whumps and your comments had me wheezing! They were amazing! It was such a delight to finish the edits <3 Thank you so much <3 <3

Tag list: @broken-horn @finder-of-rings  @haro-whumps  @voidwhump2  (if you don’t want to be tagged in this pls let me know)

CW: giant spider, dehumanization of a fictional minority, degrading language, bullying/ discrimination based on one's appearance,  mutilation of a pet spider (very briefly), 

Heat thrummed through Gideon’s bones, pulsing hotter than the torrid sun, and throbbed in unison with his building headache. His patience had shriveled up like dried fruit as the horrible lavender scent clung to his hair, skin, and clothes, making him dizzy.

It became stronger on the village outskirts, he realized as he hurried after his director. The man ascended the crooked stone staircase effortlessly, his moss-green robe billowing behind him and spear swinging in its quiver. He did not slip even once on the tiny steps that wound through the thick underbrush to who-the-hell-knew-where. All while he rambled on about how disciplinary work encouraged the growth of one’s character.

A twig got caught in Gideon’s black bushy hair, pulling painfully on his roots as it broke off with a snap. It was going to be a freaking nightmare to fiddle all those shitty branches and leaves out of his hair later.

He was seconds away from losing his barely-held composure. The only thing stopping him from yelling at his teacher’s back, was that he really, really could not risk to get kicked out of this academy. He’d come to this godforsaken village to learn how to fight and survive in the forest, not become some obedient little soldier boy, but even so he wasn’t going to get booted yet. And certainly not after only five days.

So he kept quiet. If he had to play the director’s errand boy for a day, so damn be it!

 “Ah, here we are. Finally. My dear friend’s farm. Tell me, young Gideon, is it not simply beautiful?”

“‘S okay.”

Granted, the house did look cozy, resting encircled by giant roots with its warm brick walls, but those gigantic snails everywhere sent a shudder down his spine. If he had to touch those slimy monsters he would throw a fit, but the house’s sliding doors opened before he could utter a protest.

A fine-boned, elderly woman emerged, followed by a huge man with a greying beard.

 A boy, probably his own age but way shorter, held the door open for them, seemingly waiting for more people to come out. His big green eyes were cast on the floor.

The older woman’s lips curled into a crooked smile as she caught sight of the director, whose whole face had lit up.

“Moira. My darling. Please do not tell me you are about to leave?! Not when I looked forward to seeing your beautiful face again.”

Gideon suppressed a gag. The woman crossed her arms, smile growing sharper, but her blue eyes twinkled warmly as she spoke.

“You’re charming as ever, Eric.”

The man behind her huffed, stepping closer. “Also happy ‘ter see ya, Eric.”

“Oh rival, how could you not? Since-“

The director launched into one of his speeches but Gideon’s focus snapped to the girl that stepped out the door, right behind a blonde woman. She wore a tight black romper, translucent blouse hanging of her thin shoulders and her fancy getup alone made her stick out from the other villagers, but what really caught his attention was her face. Iits left side was oddly deformed, her pale skin creased like a wrinkled silk sheet, leaving her left eye smaller than the other. She mouthed something to the boy, smiling, earning a smile from him in turn.

“Ah yes may I introduce: Gideon, my newest student.”

Having lost most of the adults’ conversation Gideon tuned back just in time to give them a curt nod.

“Hi.”

“I will send him to you after the feast then, to come and get the mucin salve once you finish it.”

Oh great, he really just got downgraded to an errand boy.

They descended the stairs, lined up one after another on the narrow path, the short boy right in front of him, followed the strange girl. He had avoided Gideon’s eyes as he squeezed past him, careful not to touch, probably scared off by his uniform. The school’s emblem, embroidered on his stainless white shirt, proudly declared him a scout in training. Deadly. Fearless. The little farm boy definitely did better not to mess with an insect slayer.

The girl came to an abrupt halt, frozen in the woodland’s shadows before it gave way to the dusty hill road, and Gideon nearly collided with the farm boy’s back.

That’s when he heard it.

A primal, bone chilling hiss tore through the hot afternoon air, rattling through his very core. Every hair on his body stood, muscles tensing, on edge just like his fraying nerves. He knew that sound. Even though he’d heard it only once before. On the crusade from last-stand-berlin to the village, where he had seen the beast it belonged to lurk on the riverside, watching them. He would never forget a spider’s hiss. Not ever.

And there one stood, right in front of him, its eight thorny legs towering high above its ugly head. The spider’s giant yaws worked, rubbed against each other in agitation. Its razor sharp fangs glistened in the sun.

A man sat atop its massive, hairy body, scar-faced and clad in a straw cape fastened to a beetle’s shell that armored his left shoulder, shimmering in iridescent hues of blue and green. He did not smile as he glanced down at them. A silent challenge was edged in the hard lines of his rugged face.

The air was so brittle it felt like any moment it could snap, and if it didn’t, Gideon might.

That’s when the director shouldered past him, spear drawn and followed by the other man. Both planted themselves right in front of him and the others.

The intruder’s scar stretched with the rise of his eyebrows, eyes slitting in a lazy grin.

 “Woah, there. Hold your horses pals. Before someone does somethin’ he regrets later.”

“That a threat?” the bearded man grumbled.

Moira ducked past her husband, face twisted in a furious scowl. “Oh, something other than riding in another village on a damn wolf-spider you mean?!” The corded muscle in her boney arm flexed, bulging, as she shook a fist at the man, unveiling a wrath behind her primly dressed form that no one would have wanted to fall victim too.

He, however, just leaned closer, smile stretching into a shark-tooth grin. “Gutsy, are we? I like that.”

Eric stepped up beside her, spear held high in a white knuckled grip. “How could you make it past our InD-Units with this monstrosity?! God show you mercy if you did something to-”

“What do you think I am?!” the intruder drawled, “A monster?! Only reason I got past your units was this baby here.”

Gideon had to stand on his tiptoes to catch a glance of the small round device that sat embedded into the spider’s head, partly hidden by the man’s straw cape. A little red light blinked in a steady rhythm above three buttons, which the man was careful not to touch as he tapped his knuckles softly against it. 

“Renders her absolutely obedient. See?”

He unsheathed a knife from a holster strapped around his leg and its steel blade shimmered as he rammed it in one of the spider’s eyes, plopping it out with a nauseating plitch. The spider endured its master’s violation in utter stillness, only twitching its yaws, creating an awful hiss in their never ceasing movement.

 “She’s docile as a lamb.”

“And how exactly is that supposed to work?” the girl inquired, meeting the man’s stare with a calculatingly cold composure. His mouth twitched.

“Man, what do I know, Missy?! I’m a mutant hunter not a scientist.” He leaned closer. Venom spiked his words, dripped like acid from his tongue. “My expertise lies in chasing down freaks.”

The condescendingly cruel way in which he spoke, wielding words like a weapon meant to pierce and twist where it hurt most, reminded Gideon of his father. How dare this interloper compare someone to mutant monstrosities. Anger welled up in his chest, buzzed down his legs and made them move, planting himself right between the girl and the intruder.

“Tsk. Mutant hunter?! You’ve ever really seen one? Or are you just talk?!”

“Gideon.”, the director warned, squeezing his shoulder warningly as he tried to pull him back, but the intruder just gave them a wry smile.

“No no. Let's hear him out. Have you ever seen one boy?”

“Yes. There hideous monstrosities.  And I’m going to find and kill every single of one of them.”

The intruder burst into violent laughter, shoulders shaking and head thrown back, nearly losing his balance under the force of it.

“You do have guts, I give you that. But also lots to learn. Some barely look like monsters.  Just small and weak. But ugly, that’s the whole lot of them.” His eyes wandered back to the girl. The blonde woman beside her gasped, searching for words to shot back, but falling silent as she noticed the girls expression. 

Red blotches burned on her face, rage twisting it into a vicious scowl. The afternoon sun set her copper curls on fire. Ready to spew fury and flames, she opened her mouth but the short boy was faster, small voice piping up.

“Char- Charlotte is… is no- no mutant and, uhm, and she’s neither ugly nor weak. And pe-people who talk about killing others for no- no reason are… They’re the- the real monsters.”  

His fingers fiddled with his shorts as he spoke, twisting in the dark, worn linen as he stumbled over his words and his big green eyes jumped from the rocky street to the spider’s fangs, lingering on the intruder’s face before landing on  Gideon. His eyes narrowed as he all but spat the last words in Gideon’s face.  

“The hell you just said?!” Gideon’s nostrils flared. How dare this little runt run his mouth about things he didn’t know shit about!

Crossing his arms in an attempt to shield himself from Gideon’s anger, the boy forced himself to hold Gideon’s furious, wide eyed stare.  “Y- you heard me.”

Gideon could feel a vein pulsing in his throat, pumping liquefied fire through his veins. His hands twitched.

“I give you one chance to take. That. Back.”

The boy’s trembling fingers dug in his forearms, knuckles whitening as he lifted his chin. “Never.”

A roar tore from Gideon’s throat as he leapt forward. Rage tore through him like a wildfire, ready to ignite everything his fist would come in contact with.

In that frozen second between charge and impact, the boy’s feet moved. His body tilted to the side. Dodged Gideon’s fist. Effortlessly. He bounced back. Landed on the first stone step and uncrossed his arms. Ready to defend himself.

That little runt had nerves! Gideon broke into a sprint.

“You sure are good at dodging!” His fist swung back. “Try to handle this!”

Gideon’s muscles flexed. But a strong hand stopped him, holding his wrist in an iron grip before he could smash his fist down.

Craning his neck, he looked up at the old man’s stern face.

Fuck. He is fast?!

“Looks like ya still got lots t’ learn about respect ‘n self-discipline, young man.”

He released Gideon’s hand and turned to the other boy. His grey eyes glistened like ice shards, sharp as his words. “Same goes for you. Ya disappointed me, Sahar.”

Wincing, Sahar flinched back. His big eyes glistened with unshed tears, blinking up at the man.

“Wh-wha- what do you mean?”

“I haven’t trained ya to run off ‘n start mindless fights. I tried to teach ya discipline ‘n how to survive these woods.” His voice did not waver, bringing more to tears to green eyes.

“Someone's a stuck up.” the intruder mumbled, earning the older womans venomous glare. 

“But- but I didn’t- he was the one who-“

“Enough,” the man thundered. “Don’t argue with me. If ya want a beatin’ so bad I’ll give ya one later. And now back t’ the farm. Ya grounded for the week. No fest. No nothin’!”

Sahar shrank under the man’s anger, head ducked between his shoulders as the first teardrop fell. It trickled down his trembling yaw, painting a glistening path on his pale olive skin.

His voice was reduced to a shaky exhale as he nodded, eyes fixed on the dirty ground. “Yes, sir.”

Sahar stormed up the stairs and vanished behind thick bushes, as the intruder burst into a new laughing fit.