#they give moose a headache but they do take care of the horses

[eldritcmor]

To add to this. Storm has some strange horses! She has lead undead unicorns (horse with a sword through its skull). The flesh eating horses from the twelve trials of Heracles. Several varieties of kelpie and pale horse. Do not tell moose there’s a kelpie in his back pond. Storm is still trying to figure out how to slip hippocampi onto moose’s ranch. He won’t notice a horse with fins right?

Moose finally gets a vacation. On his ranch. In peace. Till the pale horses show up in his pasture.

He absolutely thinks Storm brought more horses to stable. Demon horses and horses of literal gods isn't enough? Gotta bring the pale horses?!

He leaves them be, though. He knows enough about normal horses to not mess with ones you don't know. These ones are definitely a big no-no.

[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.

[satanwithstardust]

// You Can Do Better Than Me // Part One

Reggie x Reader / Jughead x Reader (platonic) / Jughead x Asexual

A whole lot of friendships, relationships, inner turmoil and indecisive teens ready to mess it all up.

I have to face the truth That no one could ever look at me like you do Like I’m something worth holding on to

These times I think of leaving But it’s something I’ll never do

‘Cause you can do better than me But I can’t do better than you

warnings: it’s so british??? and swearing.if you read the snippet/preview please note that i changed the beginning, so make sure you read it all! also added the whole 2nd part as well.

word count: 1710

The over-played jock stereotype was physically embodied by the ever-infamous Reggie Mantle. Ah Reggie. With his good looks, killer body and ace football skills what could ruin this boy? Oh, his personality and reputation, maybe. He was the type to crap on anyone, even the lads of the football team and they were his people. He ran his mouth too often than not and got into one too many scraps with anyone who dared to answer him back (and maybe he’d always win but that’s not really the point now).

Yet, you couldn’t help the attraction you felt towards Reggie, which blossomed on the first day of middle school. This was the day he first pinned Jughead up to the locker as a ‘assertion of dominance’, as Reg put it, and you had been head over heels since. There was a slight problem in you being Jughead’s best friend, however. It killed you slightly inside whenever Reggie threw a mean slur or physically hurt Juggie, so much that you hated how you felt for the bigger lad. The constant divide you felt towards Mantle often had you bickering with yourself inside your head, resulting in a headache each time. It was exhausting really, being attracted to such a douche. Whenever Reggie would walk past you couldn’t help but stare, getting lost in his floppy hair, big smile and the aura of confidence which would seep out from him. This would often lead to the daydreams; walking through the hall in his cliché letterman jacket, your books in Reggie’s right hand while his other is draped around your shoulders keeping you close. You’d get so lost that Jughead would have to shake you out of it leaving you to feel guilty once again.

You loved Jughead too much to betray him. There was a brief period, when you were 17, in which you thought you had to be in love with Juggie, due to him being your life long best friend. It was tradition, really, wasn’t it? The life-long best friends one day realising that the love of their life had been staring them right in the face since day one, that’s how it usually went right? So, after attending a Veronica Lodge party and getting crazy wasted, you took Jug to Pop’s where you cried into your milkshake and spilled your thoughts. Jughead just laughed, and in the nicest was possible rejected you due to him being asexual and all, and told you ‘just because I’m male, you’re female and we’re friends doesn’t mean we’re end game.’ Being so drunk your only reply was ‘oh’ with a follow up of you shovelling the milkshake into your mouth. You promptly stopped worrying after that night and realised you never felt that sort of attraction towards Jughead. So happily, friends it was, but friends didn’t betray each other by liking the lad who gave them shit every day.

Even with the attraction being more than a school girl crush you had never really spoke to Reggie. There had been fleeting conversations in lesson when he’d ask for a pencil or when in the library, you’d ask for Reggie to reach onto a top shelf, because you were in fact 5ft2 compared to his 6ft2 stance. Reggie claims he was only ever in the library because he’s skipping class and no one would think to look for him there, which you believed to be a lie. Sometimes you’d catch Reggie sat in the back of the library reading intently and it was times like these where your guilt for liking him would rush away. He always seemed to be oblivious to the world around him when reading, even taking out a pencil to write inside to pages. Once he had finished he’d tuck the book deep down inside his backpack and embraced his ‘bad boy’ posture once more. There was someone else deep down in Reggie that he only cared to bring out when he thought he was alone, and you wanted to get to know that Reggie.

~

“Are you 100% sure Jughead? I mean I can head back home and make you some soup?” you said clutching your phone to your ear. Jughead was sick, really sick, so bad he couldn’t really get out of bed. Well your bed, Jughead was living at your house in the spare room. Your parents loved Juggie and only wanted to help him, they knew how much he meant to you. So, after you convinced him to take the day off your parents ushered you into their car and drove you to school. Once you got there you rang Jughead to check up on him.

Standing by your locker alone was unusual for you, considering Jughead was always glued to your side, (and you to his). You did have other friends, Veronica, Betty, and Archie for example. Unfortunately, they were all due at morning practise anytime soon, so meeting them was out of the question. There was a football game tonight, an important one although you didn’t know why, you just knew it was big. B and V asked endlessly for you to join the River Vixens and cheer by their side for Archie, but you couldn’t even bend down to touch your toes so, no thanks. You often watched from the sides with Jughead anyway, buying inconspicuous amounts of game food from the stands and watching when the rest of the Riverdale High students cheered so both could join in. Kevin sometimes joined but after the Moose incident with his horse-like appendage, his appearance was growing sparse.

“No! No, I need you to stay far away,” Jughead replied hurriedly.

“Um, do you want to try that sentence again without sounding as if your breaking up our friendship?” you laughed. You knew what he meant, Jughead just wanted you to stay away so you wouldn’t get sick yourself. If you did then he’d end up looking after you like you did with him, causing himself to get sick once again, it was a harsh cycle.

“Hey Y/N, you know what I mean,” he sighed followed by a harsh cough. Not long after that you had to hang up, telling Juggie to get some rest and he wished you a good day. You were lucky to have such a great best friend.

Later, once you were sat in maths you looked round to Jughead’s seat beside you, expecting it to be empty. You soon realised that was not the case. Resting there, thanks to fate, was none other than Reggie Mantle. Of course, your life was a teen movie how could you forgot?

You didn’t realise Reggie was looking back at you until he spoke, “what’s up Y/N?” Was there a genuine smile on Reggie’s face or was your imagination running wild? Either way, Reggie as sat next to you and talking to you.

With a quick scan, you realised there was no one else around for him to be talking to. “Hey Reggie, you need to borrow a pen again?” He was so casual about the whole situation whereas your mind was running the scenario over tenfold. It’s not even as if Reggie was doing anything spectacular, he was just sitting there. Sitting there looking so soft and squishy, with the sunlight seeping through the windows, beaming down onto his back, creating a halo of light around his built shoulders and arms. His hair looked soft today, more than usual. It was getting longer, his fringe nearly hiding his brown eyes but giving him the boyish look. You had an urge to make him tea and place a blanket around him – and you needed to stop.

“Oh, um no actually. I just haven’t seen Danny Darko around you today so I figured you needed company,” and ah, yes. There’s the reason you shouldn’t be having these feelings or thoughts.

Trying your hardest not to scowl, you replied, “you do know his name is Jughead? Well, actually it’s ‎Forsythe but that’s a whole different story and I really don’t appreciate you talking about my best frie-“

“Wow, Y/N/N. I get it, sorry. Let me start again, please?” He said tilting his forehead slightly forwards, looking completely genuine. With a nod of your head he continued, “I realised Jughead was not in today, you always seem to be with the lad and it doesn’t really give me chance to talk to you. Which, is what I’m trying to do. Right now.”

Before you could reply, your maths teacher entered the room, demanding everyone’s attention. He was strict so no one really spoke during his lesson. The silence gave you a chance to focus on what Reggie had said. He was trying to talk to you, but how? There were two options; one, he wanted to copy your work from the lesson or two, he wanted to talk talk. It was most likely the former, because who were you kidding? Why would Reggie want to talk to you about anything else other than school? You did question this, however. Unlike what many people expected, Reggie was smart. You had figured this out when you saw the books he read in the library. They were sophisticated books that even you were too scared to pick up. So, why would he need to copy notes? By the end of the lesson you concluded that he was probably too preoccupied with thought of tonight’s game to focus. You dared a look over at Reggie minutes before the bell rang out and saw his pages of equations and puzzles solved from the lesson, so maybe he did just want to talk. Just have a casual conversation.

The bell finally rang which pulled you out from your over-analysed thoughts and, following the other students lead, you packed your stuff into your bag. Before you managed to get out of your set however, a hand placed itself upon your desk. Looking up you were mere inches away from Reggie’s face which was donning a smile. “I hope to see you at tonight’s game, cheer for me okay?” and off he went, walking back with his eyes locked onto yours with a smirk on his face before he turned for the door. What just happened?

@bitchilli

@jugheadjns

@betty-coopers-number-one-stan

@kingpendleton