#idk slavery is much worse than people make it out to be

[psyaurorak]

when you think about it, the plot of lore olympus is just if Rashta was the main character in The remarried empress

the less fancy girl, who also acts rather child-like at times, steals the (toxic ahh) man of the other girl, then once she becomes all high and mighty, she starts being an asshole, even to people who she problably didn't have an issue with before

girlie is also insecure about her relationship

there's even baby drama in both

I don’t want this to come off as rude but i genuinely disagree heavily because :

1) Persephone is Demeters daughter. You cant be telling me this girl wasnt privileged in wealth especially considering Demeters business. Shes also a daughter of one of the 6 traitors. You can’t tell me this girl wasn’t famous. Especially when her mother made her the face of her company. Rashta was a slave girl. Those aren’t comparable.

2) Yes, they’re both ‘homewreckers,’ but Rashta is again a slave girl. Idk if she can say no to the emperor lest she be disgraced OR if she wanted to. I mean the choice for Rashta was either stay as a slave OR follow the emperor to a better life where she wouldn’t be practically tortured. In contrast, Persephone had choices.

3) And also, Rashta has a legitimate reason to be insecure in her relationship. She has to be careful unless she wants to go back to slavery. She probably doesn’t trust the emperor but hes her key to a better life. She knows she is just the side piece, so her place by his side might be temporary & she could be y’know… tossed aside. For Persephone, she just shits on people as a power trip at this point.

4) the power dynamics are awful. I mean slave/emperor for rashta is awful. She has nothing unlike Persephone who can fall back onto the mortal realm & her mother if things go bad.

In conclusion, idk if these two characters are comparable because Rashtas circumstances & backgrounds are much worse than Persephone.

I honestly think, if there was another way for Rashta to get out of slavery, she would’ve taken it instead of staying w the emperor. But there isn’t so she sticks with him because (again) she has no choice unless she wants to stay stuck as a slave.

[luffyvace]

Hello again brook! I am the one who asked for the luffy x heroic reader! Thanks for it I liked it a lot! I wanna ask for another headcanons now, a Platonic garp x young fem reader that really look up to him and that work really really hard to achieve her dream to become an admiral and work to change how the marine work (being okay with slavery, allowing some pirates to hurt ppl and do whatever they want while chasing some for doing nothing...) And she manage to become one of the strongest and the barevest marines in such a short time

HIII AGAIN ANON!! :)

yay I’m so happy you were satisfied!!! ❤️‍🩹

AWWW your concepts are the cutest!!! I think garp with young apprentice who admires him a lot is absolutely adorable!!

Idk whether to make this old or young garp really so you choose :P

ENJOY!! You have such good ideas~

😋

You look up to garp so much!!

he’s the hero of the marines who doesn’t?!

you’ve admired him for a long time now and he motivates you even more to achieve your goal!

as soon as you get as good as him, you’ll put an end to all the corrupt things the marines let slide!!

your gonna be a hero in your own way!! 🦸‍♀️

and make things right in the way the government does things!!

to make this true justice!!!

you’ve read all about garp’s past a million times

to the point where you could probably tell it backwards and upside down without reading it 😅

you subconsciously ramble and talk about him a lot

not in a creepy way

in a cute puppy like way where you just like to talk about the one you admire!

you always think “what would garp do?!” in tough situations!

and it works too

he’s the type that comes up with simple yet effective plans that mostly involve brute force

but hey I mean sometimes that works 🤷‍♀️

Garp honestly doesn’t mind one bit that you look up to him so heavily

he wouldn’t care so much if you weren’t his apprentice but you are

And while he doesn’t mind, he does want you to carve your own path, not or just limit yourself to his if you can surpass him

he stooped to one knee, put a hand on your shoulder and told you that one day as you were training

you’ve gotta admit it was the coolest day of your life and you’ll never forget it

you’ve engraved into your mind and make sure never to obsess over becoming like him, but strive to be as good as him

you couldn’t stop thinking about that moment for a solid week

garp could tell because you kept spacing out way more often than usual 😂💗

Ngl you kinda view garp as like a uncle or second father maybe, or even your grandfather (but of course you don’t dismiss that your not actually family)

garp’s training is honestly- REALLY INTENSE 😃

like he does you how he does koby, helmeppo and younger luffy

but WORSE 😆

why? Because he has high expectations for you <3

and while he might come off as too harsh at first, as you soon as you found that out you stop complaining 😂

It’s honestly a good thing your a natural hard worker cuz garp was gonna make you one anyway 😂🤷‍♀️

now he doesn’t have to worry about you slacking or being lazy

but he does warn you about overworking and that rest is just as important as working, as odd as it may seem

your dream to become an admiral seems totally in reach for you to him

your like the perfect specimen to do so in his eyes

You have a moral sense of justice, your strong and hard working

you’d be an ideal admiral!

and the first female one at that!

he honestly hopes you do become an admiral

its time for a change of pace as far as the governmental rules anyway

you’d bring that about perfectly

and give regular people a hope that there is good in the marines, specifically uncorrupted ones they could trust

And you’d teach a good lesson to those darned pirates too!

-according to garp

He’s given you all the training and has set you up to become a successful admiral—just like you wanted!

Now you’d better become one and achieve your dream! Or he’s gonna beat you!

(Fist of love 🤜💥)

literally 😋

he cares so much about you, he doesn’t want you to fail!

so he’ll force you to not to 😊

one way or the other :P

and besides, your practically his successor!!

he ain’t getting any younger (not that you like when he says that) so your gonna have to take over a lot of responsibility from his shoulders when he leaves!! >:(…. (❤️‍🩹)

And if he leaves this earth and you embarrass him by being weak he’s gonna come BACK down here and teach you a lesson!

”understood?!”

”YES SIR.” (｀_´)ゞ

He’s also straight forward about warning you of the dangers that comes with this job

number one is strong pirates and two is breaking the rules!

don’t be afraid to break the rules because you’ll loose your job, but because HE’S gonna get you >:/

That aside there’s also the grand line in general but the marines have the advantage of special travel routes and technology

So to put it short as long as you ain’t doing nothin you ain’t got no business you’ll be fine :)

the whole slavery thing is beyond garp

Not in the sense that he doesn’t know about it

but that he just can’t believe others are doing that??

like what’s the purpose

if you were gonna do illegal things anyway might as well become a pirate so he can beat you for it

but because they’re in a position of power too it makes it harder

you have to gather solid evidence and go to court and blah blah blah……*tunes out*

(bro just wants to eat his crackers)

but not to worry for the slaves!

you’ve got a plan!

what it is? don’t ask, garp wasn’t listening 🧍‍♀️

but just know you’ll be saved soon! 👋

He understands your want to save others in general

now idk what garp’s drive is

but even though your goals may be different

he totally sees where your coming from

but take some advice from a guy who gets called a hero all the time—don’t get ahead of yourself.

(he knows you won’t he just wants to make sure he tells you in case you do, then he can say he warned you)

lots of people loose they’re way on they’re path to power

but your so headstrong he knows you won’t

as far as the whole thing were some of the marines attack pirates who have barely just started calling themselves so but won’t take down the ones causing REAL chaos

is real phony and bogus to him

and to you too

(it low key makes you giddy when you and garp have the same opinions because you admire him so much 😂💖)

but yeah he personally beats any pirates he comes across, big or small

but he will prioritize the bigger ones

he’s a big shot himself, so he ain’t scared ��

his missions is never to chase around roaches anyway

he only gets the real deal 💪

garp was so proud when you became one of the strongest and bravest marines

he had no doubt in his mind you could do it

But so soon? He’s impressed!

”guess you worked harder than I thought you did, sport.”

that was your first ever sense of praise from him and from that very second on you never forgot

you think about it every night before bed and during every battle

You let it drive you and push you further towards your goal

which is also when you may have realized his soft spot for you

At first he never really displayed it, but ever since then you knew it was already always there <3

you felt so honored and grateful in that moment

he treats you to some crackers to celebrate 🍻

koby and helmeppo love to train with you!!

they think your so strong

and that it’s cool that your basically garp’s successor

they definitely believe in you, especially since all the times you beat them in training

In fact, they look up to you

btw you, garp and Sengoku are also like a silly little family 💗

your family bond between you, garp, Sengoku, Koby and Helmeppo is adorable, goofy and inseparable all at the same time

he’s proud, you’ll never hear him say it, but he doesn’t have to. ❤️‍🩹🤝

This is my first time writing for garp and it was my pleasure! This was so heartwarming and I’m honored to have done the job <3

I hope you enjoyed these hcs as well dearest anon!

[maracujatangerine]

73.1 Forum Discourse

CW: institutionalised slavery, dehumanisation, box boy universe, pet whump

Previous

*

Posted by u/GreenBookworm 3 days ago:

Hi!

So, I haven’t really posted here before, but I’m at my wit’s end and I really hope that some of you can help me.

I have a male pet that I got from some less-than-ideal circumstances. He’s been with me for over a year now and he is really making progress. I think he is trusting me more and more and it seems like he is getting over some of his previous experiences.

Still, he wakes up from terrible nightmares very often. I’m not sure how to comfort him and how to make him feel safe. What do you think, how can I fix this situation?

TL;DR: My pet has terrible nightmares, what can I do?

Futureiteration77 – 3 days ago: How many times per day are your beating him?

ManiacalTiger – 3 days ago: I have a similar problem. My pet is always crying at night and keeping up the rest of the house. What do you recommend?

Futureiteration77 – 3 days ago: At least twice per day or they have too much pent up energy. As an pet owner it is your responsibility to help them manage and release this.

ManiacalTiger – 2 days ago: I have been doing at least three times and still have issues.

Blue_prominence – 3 days ago: What kinds of nightmares? Can u get him to give u more specific details? B specific.

GreenBookWorm - 2 days ago: Idk, really. He doesn’t like to talk about it. It is usually about the training, I think. Sometimes he talks about white rooms that are neverending - that is usually the exact phrase that he uses. Sometimes, it seems to be about his former masters. (He’s had several.) He screams and cries, sometimes he just seems… empty. Do your pets act the same?

Imaginativesloth – 2 days ago: Get him retrained.

Densecircus281 – 2 days ago: ^^ Good suggestion. That’s what I did.

Fancycyclone1565 – 2 days ago: Try NyQuil and Dramamine, both available OTC. Sometimes we also give ours an edible to help them sleep soundly all night.

Throwaway7966123 – 2 days ago: You could ask him if a nightlight would help.

AbsentSnark – 2 days ago: That’s ridiculous!!!!!! He won’t know that, it will only make the problem worse!! This is terrible advice. People shouldn’t come on here without having a basic understanding of how helpless and brainless pets are. It is shocking how much misinformation and bad advice is out there.

GreenBookWorm - 2 days ago: That is a good idea! I haven’t thought about that, thanks! Does your pet have a nightlight? Does he or she have nightmares, too?

Temporarydaybreak987 – 2 days ago: It may be difficult to face the time apart but retraining by professionals is the best option for both pet and owners.

Sunset_Lover – 2 days ago: I suggest finding a separate, soundproof room where you can lock him up at night. Even if he starts crying, it won’t wake you up. Edit: If you don’t have spare room you could use a muzzle

DeepSeaSquid – 2 days ago: if your Pet is a cuddly type, you can let him sleep near you? Mine is really needy and since I let him in my room his night crying has reduced almost completely. But again, it depends on your Pet’s type.

RueTheNymph – 2 days ago: I swear, those people. If you treat him softly like that he will never stop being clingy. Give him few beatings or whatever form of punishment he responds to the best and he will learn not to waste your time

DeepSeaSquid – 1 day ago: Thank you very much for your useless advice. Have you considered that my Pet is clingy because I want him that way? And if beatings simply worked then there would not be a need to make this post, hmm?

RueTheNymph - 1 day ago: You shouldn’t be allowed to be an Owner

DeepSeaSquid - 1 day ago: Lol, forgive me for wanting to have a lapdog

roses-and-embers - 1 day ago: @DeepSeaSquid nothing wrong with wanting to cuddle, but are you sure your Pet is not crying on purpose to manipulate you into letting him into your room?

DeepSeaSquid - 1 day ago: That’s a valid suspicion, but I am sure he’s not doing it on purpose. He’s having nightmares even if I’m not at home and someone else is watching him, besides he’s too well-behaved to dare to try and manipulate me.

*

This post is a collaboration with brilliant @distinctlywhumpthing and @octopus-reactivated. ✨❤️✨

It is a crossover AU with Leo from Distinctlywhumptning’s Unintentional. We also have a cameo from Octopus-reactivated’s Decima from Title me Miss. For Lydia and Coriander, this is canon.

*

Tag List Part 1: @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-em @whumpzone @wh-wh-whu @neuro-whump @carnagecardinal @cowboy-anon @whump-me-all-night-long @redwingedwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @haro-whumps @eatyourdamnpears @bloodsweatandpotato @pinkraindropsfell @whumptywhumpdump @theydy-cringeworthy @whump-in-progress @whumpsy-daisy @nicolepascaline @whumpcreations @briars7 @shiningstarofwinter @whumppsychology @alex-ember @miss-kitty-whumptastic @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @youtube-fandoms-bands @goblinchildindabog @mazeish @distinctlywhumpthing @inpainandsuffering @canniboylism @icannotweave @incoherent-introspection @kim-poce @broken-typewriter @the-monarch-whumperfly @whumpers-inc @grizzlie70 @lil-whumper @writingbackwards @sunflower1000 @wingedwhump @thecitythatdoesntsleep @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @onlybadendings @rabass @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning

[kylejsugarman]

Idk if you’ve answered this already but at what point in their relationship did Jesse tell Demi ab his past? How did that go over? How much does she know?

ive mentioned it some before but i haven't really gone super in depth!! as u all may know, i am very "and then everyone made it to alaska and everything ended up ok!! :)" minded, so i dont have a big dramatic revelation beat to my story and ultimately, jesse never tells demi that he's living under a completely new identity. however, he does tell her a Lot of other things, partially because he trusts her, partially because he feels guilty keeping things from her that might make her see him differently; he feels that she deserves to know how fucked up he is so she can escape him and avoid tying herself down to a mistake. jesse first tells her about his drug use after demi explains how her sister died, again out of that guilt and the expectation that she won't want to associate with a former(ish) addict, but demi saw firsthand how powerful addiction can be and isnt scared off. when it comes to his criminal history, it takes him a little longer to work up the nerve to disclose that stuff: he's afraid of both endangering her by letting her know what he's done and losing her. he drops a few things along the way, usually related to drug dealing and production since she was so understanding of that aspect of his past, but once they decide to get married, he feels that he owes it to her to be totally honest. the dark details of making and selling the drugs, being around violence and controlling figures. enacting violence himself. losing people. being sold into slavery. he leaves out specific identifying details (demi's never been a current events kind of person but he cant risk her connecting those dots) and places a lot of the blame on himself instead of trying to describe the people from his past who were pulling a lot of those strings. its basically an abridged version of the show's events, no names, no details in certain places (he doesnt even tell her which state he used to live in), and no forgiveness.

demi listens patiently the whole time, not asking many questions along the way. she tenses up when he touches on captivity, but otherwise her demeanor remains open and nonjudgmental. when it's over, she doesn't say anything, which is somehow worse than disgust. jesse is so wound up at this point that he flips out on her, insisting that this is her time to cut her losses. he's a criminal, a fucking murderer. he's evil. demi still doesnt react the way he wants and instead just waits until he's out of venom before reaching out to very gently smooth down his hair. petting the angry, upset dog instead of reflexively giving him away. "im sorry you've had to carry that around with you all this time," she says softly and that breaks him. because it Has been so hard carrying that around. demi asks a few more questions, clarifies a few more things, then tells him what she thinks. that she's seen how he acts now, how he treats people, how he treats himself. that she grew up with a father who sounds like the figures he alluded to in his story. that she is uncertain and insecure about a lot of things, but she's never been more sure that jesse is a good person and that she loves him irrespective of whatever came before. "im dangerous," he insists, a former fighting dog that would rather die than return to the ring. a hand on his own—"then why do i feel so safe with u?"

it's not perfect. there will always be things that jesse never shares with her and he will never totally forgive himself because as the one living person who knows the Extent of what went down, he feels that it's his responsibility to hold himself accountable for It for the rest of his life. demi's perception of him Does change, although not entirely in a negative way, and she is a little hurt that he expected her to bail so quickly and she can't lie and say that her mind doesn't occasionally drift to the fact that her husband has killed people. but at the end of the day, they're two broken people who were utterly convinced that their lives were over before they found each other. this is their second chance at life and they're never going to take that or each other for granted. whatever comes, they're going to face it together

[panicatthecourtx]

hi wife anyways since ik u love to spew gimme more about tweeks parents so i can be sad

Wifey, why do u wanna be sad when u know my thoughts on them nfmsbcns.

Anyway, I definitely don't think he's got the best parents. Maybe not the worst, and I know my personal HCs are worse than sooooomme but even canon they aren't great and it makes me soooo sad.

One, they routinely ignore him in earlier seasons to the extent even he says "you guys never listen to me! I want out, I want out" which shows it's a COMMON occurrence that he feels neglected/ignored.

Two. Def abu$e, even if it's just emotional/verbal, given the fact Richard "jokes" about the slavery in the underpants gnomes episode. The kidnapping episode they literally tell tweek so many things that he is TERRIFIED to talk to literally everyone and then they hold a gun to his head in an effort to "teach him a lesson" or whatever ?? And then the meth use, that's clearly been ongoing for years I mean- they named their child tweek? 💀💀.

Three. Idk what you'd call it? H0mophobia or smth- manipulation ?? Idk- the amount of times in the show and the games Richard doesn't praise tweek for being gay- but rather "having a gay son is good for business!" Just makes me rly sad, especially in comparison with Craig's dad hiving a speech and "I like gay Craig" where Tweek is just... a business boost.

Four. The new special just shows that drug addiction just runs in the family seeing as how u know, Helen(fanon name) is willing to steal and shoot people for ozempic. Tweek wasn't shown much but I still think that's a key to his home life ✨️✨️.

Canon, his parents aren't the worst but they aren't good and it's really sad and makes me sad when the only support system he has is Craig, and he even says that Craig's the one to make him believe on himself, so on. Obvi I love that for the creek but like yk... his parents should be someone he could go to, too.

[sweet-little-goldfish-stede]

hello, what would you say to someone who very much thinks about stepping away from the renewal movement bc our fandom keeps being associated with slavery, racism and zionism? and people just take it at word value and feel morally better that they don't consume that media taika did while probably watching 1665 tv shows from disney and mcu. i do not care to be associated with zionists and racists and be told i ship slave owners, but everyone outside of fandom seems to have made up their mids and i don't need my tweet in supoort of a silly tv show i love to be used in some ofmd guys are dicks bullying campaign

Oh boy. I don't typically delve into this because I'm cautious about saying the right/wrong thing and being misconstrued. But I'll do my best*. Let's break this down:

Slavery - I understand people are uncomfortable with the show depicting characters based on real life pirates who were connected to slavery in the 1700s, and that is incredibly valid. If someone doesn't want to interact with the show because of that, that's fine! It's great! However, the show basically takes the idea of these pirates and makes them into entirely new characters which never themselves touch on the idea of slavery. The show depicts itself as pretty anti-slavery given the immediate violence that occurs against people who are racist to the non-white characters (Officer Whatever getting knifed after calling Frenchie slave, Abshir and the servants helping burn down the French ship and leaving happily with money after one of them called them "my Africans", which, yes EW, but was very pointedly saying he was wrong). I will also say to the slavery point that kids play pirates/love pirate stuff, people don't tell them not to because the real Blackbeard was involved in that? Idk, please take my opinion here with a grain of salt (and I'm very willing to be wrong on this) but it seems a bit...reactionary to say the show is pro-slavery.

Same goes for racism - MOST of the actors and characters are not white in this show, and that I think is portrayed very well through many different backgrounds. And as I just mentioned, every time a character is racist, they almost immediately get their comeuppance. Stede never treats any of his crew in any way which is racist, and the one time he and Pete are racist towards the Indigenous tribe, they're called out on it explicitly and never do that again.

Zionism....sigh. This is unfortunately a loaded argument these days. Yes, Taika signed a letter that said "give the hostages back". Taika is also half-Jewish and describes himself as a Jewish Polynesian man. At the time the letter was making the rounds, October 7th had just happened, and a very real, terrible kidnapping/murder of roughly 1,000 people happened, which is shocking and terrible to see as a Jewish person. It was the deadliest day for Jews since the Holocaust. Of course that does not excuse the >20,000 Palestinians who have been killed. Absolutely not.

Taika also gets a lot of unnecessary shit because people just don't like him and want to find some moral high ground to stand on and berate fans of his work with. I'm Taika neutral, but the more hate he gets the more I'm willing to back him because it's waaaaay disproportionate to anything he actually says. Plus, many, MANY actors on the show are openly pro-Palestine, and those people are close with Taika (see: Vico), so I'm very against the idea that OFMD is zionist? At least, I don't see how it can be any worse than any other piece of media those screaming about hating OFMD watch.

So, ending my ramble....I say do it anyway. You can't please everyone. People on the internet are mean. You don't know them, and they don't know you. They probably haven't seen the show and are dogpiling, because that's what people on the internet do. In addition, the renew as a crew movement has raised money for Palestine and for other charities close to the shows themes - LGBTQ+ youth and rights and amputees come to mind from what I've seen over the past few days. All extra money from the renewal campaign is going to charity. Everyone I know who donated and emails Zaslav and Co are also active in the campaign for a ceasefire, calling reps and MPs, being loud on other sources.

I'm sorry if this didn't make much sense and if anything I said was wrong. Again, very willing to listen and dialouge on any of it. As always, my DMs are open.

*Please note that I am a white American who lives in Canada and was raised Catholic (although in a very Jewish area with many Jewish friends so I do have a lot of background on Judaism, but again am not Jewish so), therefore I don't want to speak over anyone more qualified on any of these matters.

[madalice31]

Why is Raven Symone bringing the whole “I don’t want to be labeled African-American” thing back like it’s gonna hit any differently in 2024 than it did in 2014. Like girl a decade does not change that ignorant ass statement.

That is my biggest pet peeve when black people say shit like that. Idk if she is biracial or just light skin, but the self hate is real. Like the idea of saying “I’m American and my great great great great etc were American too. I’m not from Africa” it’s just the dumbest, most self denying thing I’ve heard.

Like sweetheart, slavery was ONLY a few hundred years ago. That’s maybe two or three greats right there. It isn’t like a thousand years have passed. Sure, if she is biracial, her white great greats have been here and that’s fine. But that doesn’t apply to or negate the black side of her. And if she’s not biracial it just sounds worse.

Like I don’t get why some American citizens are so desperate to make it seem like America is an origin type country. America is a melting pot. Nobody is “just” American accept the Native American tribes who had their lands stolen to begin with. Even the white folks are originally from elsewhere, no matter how long it’s been. I’ve heard white people refer to themselves as Irish-American or Italian American. Sure they may just say they’re American too but it’s not because they don’t want to be “labeled” Irish or Italian. They’re not trying to distance themselves from their heritage. No, only black people seem to do that 🤦🏽‍♀️. At least mostly.

I’ve met a Spanish chick who don’t speak a lick of Spanish and grew up in Atlanta and ain’t been back to Mexico since she was a child. She still proudly calls herself Mexican-American.

Met a Japanese guy in LA, never been to Japan a day in his life. Wasn’t even born there. Neither was his mom or grandma. But he still proudly called himself a Japanese-American. The point is, he didn’t say don’t call him Japanese and only call him American when he’s clearly of Japanese heritage.

I myself was born in Nigeria, left when I was 1 and haven’t been back since. I’m 34. Raised in Atlanta. Not only do I consider myself African-American but I get even more specific and say Nigerian-American since I have the blessing of knowing my culture and where on the continent of Africa I’m actually from.

So denying your heritage, no matter how far removed you are from it, is a complete disservice to your knowledge and acceptance of self.

I can understand not wanting a label to define who you are. There’s more to a person than just being Black or being Japanese. Or being gay, straight, or trans. Human beings are way too multifaceted to be put in a box; for one aspect of them to define their whole identity. And if she had put it that way, I think more people would have gotten her point, if that was her point. That was Idris Elba’s point that I think she missed.

Denying your identity is a whole different thing and not only did she deny her black heritage, she denied her sexuality. Yes she said she “doesn’t want to be labeled” and that’s bullshit because life is full of labels. She has no problem being labeled a celebrity, an actress, a singer. Being labeled someone’s wife. But don’t label me gay! Don’t label me African American! It’s not that I hate labels, I just want to pick and choose which ones apply to me 🙄. It’s a cop out for self hate. That’s my opinion.

And doubling down on your insecurities 10 years later trying to use a completely different situation from yours to “prove” your point, it’s not cute. As we can see, not much growth happened there.

[doctortonytchopper]

Fucken ok holy shit holy shit im on chapter 1067

New theory: the ancient kingdom w the advanced technology. They powered their world using lunarian slaves. The uprising was people having to kill the lunarians - death being better than slavery. Maybe joyboy was one and had to help them all end it. The celestial dragons were the remnants of the people who lived there - or. Like I've been ruminating on the idea that they actually WERE the good guys, but as many things do irl, ended up in this fucked up way emulating the prior kingdom and doing it even worse in some ways (like certain communist takeovers leading to fascist regimes). Idk I'm just saying. I had thoughts about vegapunk mentioning "infinite fire" (paraphrased) and was like well Sabo and sun god nika might both fit that, but like, so did king or any lunarians.

And like. What if the government wasn't who wiped out the lunarians - and what if they're willing to spend so much to hunt him down, not to KILL him like was assumed, but instead to figure out a way to clone him and rebuild their slave class (replaced by Fishmen im thinking)? Like obvs they cloned him into the seraphim but what if that's a really really incomplete cloning, like totally flawed and useless for their purposes (doesn't seem like the seraphim can create fire?) So they needed him for further research etc.

Idkkk this whole shit is moving so fast and holy FUCK did vegapunk telling Robin about Saul and visiting ohara make me CRY

[antiloreolympus]

10 Anti LO Asks

1. LO Eris looks like a humanized version of that chicken from FNAF 💀 you know the one

From OP: Not Chica 😭

2. ya know rachel wouldnt have to acknowledge the issues in her work if she just ... didnt put them in to begin with. no one told her there had to be a creepy age gap, a worship of capitalism, slavery, etc, like she gets all huffy and angry people point it out and call it weird and it's like??? ma'am no one forced you to put that in?? and depict it so badly on top of it??

3. Just a thing a noticed. I feel like apart of Hera’s racism towards the nymphs is some sorta inferiority complex. Hades was almost engaged to a nymph that Hera hated, but also had an affair with hades and didn’t believe he “outgrew” Hera until Minthe and Hades broke up. And then there’s Zeus and Thetis and Zeus’ other nymph gfs. Like she’s a fraud being the goddess of marriage but covers up that insecurity by pretending Minthe, Thetis and other nymphs could ever be with her men (Zeus and hades)

And Hera really doesn’t like other women just like any other myth. Hera doesn’t like Artemis or Aphrodite (i think that follows the myths) like she only likes her sisters, hebe and Persephone. She doesn’t seem to like anyone else. Idk I just wished we could see Hera actually like someone without being racist at first.

4. Lo Eris being Zeus and Hera's kid makes me irrationally angry. Like , she's really just decided to MAKE SHIT UP. Not as a joke, but in complete seriousness, she looked Greek mythology fans in the eye and said "Eris, the goddess of Chaos and Discord, is not Nyx's child anymore. I changed that cause I didn't like it. She's Zeus and Hera's child now."

Absolutely ridiculous. If anyone can take this comic seriously after that then they're brainwashed.

From OP: Some people have said Eris is Hera and Zeus’ child in some versions but I do think her being Nyx’s child in this case would be better.

5. so are we just.. supposed to ignore persephone is r//ped onscreen, and it's supposed to be framed as "romantic" she calls hades afterwards? that's literally using sexual assault to push a couple together, as if she had a bad argument with her crappy boyfriend as is now venting her frustrations to her "nice guys finish first" love interest as opposed to being R//PED and having no reaction to it besides talking to some old man she met only hours before? what the fuck???

6. I absolutely HATE that Minthe was made to be an abuser in LO (when she slaps HAdes & verbally abuses him). Minthe is dependent on Hades in almost every regard, esp financially but also emotionally. He is her boss! Her dependence on him is what he likes about her. The power dynamics are NOT in her favour at all. This is just not how abusive relationships work & it's obviously only there to make Minthe look even worse in comparison to Persephone.

7. i don't think how hxp is depicted in LO is grooming, I just think it's just a really badly written relationship that hinges on outside forces forcing them together than actually developing the, realistically. take out apollo, hera, eros, etc then what tells us theyd even talk to each other, much less end up a coupe? that is the problem to me, they just arent written well, hence why rachel having other characters having to mention how "in love" they are all the time is a self aware red flag.

From OP: Yeah, I personally don’t see it as grooming either (the power dynamic is still another red flag though).

8. Ok, ok ... But no one is going to talk about the fact that Ares has children with Aphrodite, they maintain an "open" relationship, even Ares stays at his partner's house, and yet he tells Zeus that he would love to get married with Persephone? I mean, fuck, Ares here doesn't respect Aphrodite (Nobody in the comic actually does) and it's horrible.

The "Open relationship" thing does not justify this type of actions, because even so, you must have respect and be honest with your main partner, which Ares never applies, and it sucks that Aphrodite is the only one who really contributes to the relationship. He cannot sleep with Zeus, nor have relations with certain men, but instead, can Ares court minors and all kinds of women when he feels like it? That's not very feminist of you, Rachel

9. i get its like a fandom joke to call apollo "asspollo" but it seems imho to kinda trivialize what he did?? like idk would you call ted bundy "ted BUTTY" and think its funny? idk how they claim to care so deeply about the "darker topics' in comic when they seem to much rather make a joke out of them than give it any weight. even the SA itself is treated as more of something for P to just "get over" so she can get to making Hades babies. I get the fans are young but its gross behavior.

10. I hate how LO stans praise Hades for being better than Apollo like do you hear yourselves? Why are we praising a man for barely being better than her literal r4pist? Plus even then Hades still grabs her body and face without her consent. controls her life/money/shelter. and even forced her to tell him about her sexual assault which she wasn't comfortable with because HE WAS SPYING ON HER. Sure he's not a r4pist, but how does he deserves all this praise? How low is the bar here?

[babblingbat]

Obviously this wouldn’t solve ALL the problems in star wars but like.  Imagine how much in star wars would be better if adults treated children like, dare I say it, actual children.

Like, if 9 year old baby Anakin Skywalker is brought to the Jedi Council and they say “you are practically an infant and require so much therapy for literally growing up in the worst environment in the world and regardless of what happens next we’ll make sure you end up somewhere safe”... idk what would HAPPEN but at least you wouldn’t be questioning this 9 year old’s right to like, exist outside of slavery.

Or! Obi-Wan in TPM! Granted, he’s like, 25 or something, but he’s also a dude who just became an adult in the eyes of the Jedi because his pseudo-dad died, so maybe don’t saddle him with responsibility right off the fucking bat.  Maybe he’d have fewer issues? Obi-Wan’s canonical childhood is already so incredibly fucked up, he doesn’t need more of this.

The clones! Those are children in adult’s bodies! Don’t send them to WAR are you KIDDING me they’re TEN.  Not to mention they have no rights, aren’t paid, are barely considered sentient, and aren’t given a choice about being cannon fodder in the eyes of the government.  THEY’RE CHILDREN.

The padawans! ALSO CHILDREN.  And you don’t even have the excuse that they look like adults here or that they’ve been trained for war since ever (again, what the fuck).  Ahsoka was FOURTEEN when people said “yeah we can send this kid into an active war zone” and DID.  And initiates can become padawans as young as ten years old! Somewhere in the clone wars there are FIFTH GRADERS running around getting shot at and some of them have probably died because they’re IN A WAR ZONE.  If the Jedi pressured the senate a little and was like “no, actually, you can’t put CHILDREN in BATTLE there are LAWS against that”... well, they might not be successful, but the fact that they were just like, “I mean, lesser of two evils, its our duty to the republic, must be done I suppose” about the ENTIRE ORDER being-- what? conscripted? into the GAR is just... idk.  How can you possibly justify putting kids in war zones when they’re literally there as students who aren’t fully qualified, and then REPEATEDLY left to deal with things like this on their own.  I can understand it if the galaxy was a little chiller and it was more of “yes padawan mine sort out this trade disagreement I’ll be monitoring but it’s your show” that’s fine.  That’s a good learning experience.  But you can’t leave the equivalent of a high school freshman in the middle of hostile territory and be shocked when something goes wrong.

Also, just in general, the idea of children being capable soldiers at all is awful! And, I would think, something that the Jedi Council would disapprove of! Oh, you look out for the interests of other people? Hm, why do you, General Jedi #6, have a middle schooler with you? HOW DO YOU RECONCILE THIS

More specifically... Ahsoka was the age of a high school sophmore/young junior when she was ARRESTED AND TRIED FOR TERRORISM as the Jedi Council tried to make a point about not being soft on their own members during war.  How callous do you have to be to not show compassion to a, again, LITERAL NON-ADULT who must have so much PTSD already and then just go “in fact, we’re going to arrest you for MURDER” as if her life couldn’t get any worse, only to then not give her ANY support after leaving.  That’s not an adult, there! That is a TALL CHILD with laser swords and a lifetime voucher for therapy!

And looping back around to between TPM and AOTC, people let Palpatine talk to a ten year old? Repeatedly? Like, the amount of interest that this elderly man is showing in a middle schooler should definitely raise some eyebrows, regardless of sithy dramatic irony.  Anakin is a CHILD and, if I recall correctly, Palpatine, like, threatens the Jedi order in order to speak with him alone? No one said, “no actually we’re calling the police because this REEKS of come into my white panel van child I have toffee energy”? No one wondered why on earth this guy who runs the galaxy wants to speak to this random snot nosed kid? For crying out loud, no one says “hey mr. Chancellor, I think you probably have like 5 million better things to do than chat up an infant”? hell on earth, no one even does THAT much, which isn’t so much looking out for Anakin as it is wondering why the chancellor isn’t doing his job! TAKE CARE OF YOUR FUCKING CHILDREN, STAR WARS UNIVERSE, BEDAMNED HYPERFIXATION

[justanotherarkhamwasterat]

So I just want to talk about fascist imagery in metal esp black metal bc fuck it.

Metals weird like the Napalm records logo is literally a swastika imo but I could be seeing what I want to see bc I'm always on the lookout for fash imagery in metal to avoid and catalog it.

White Wizzard I used to think was just a band name and I would always make fun of it and say "wow they should have just called it grand draggon" or "haha 'we're gonna name our band White Wizzard... but with 2 Z's so noone gets us confused with those other guys'" until I looked in between the 2 z's and lol the font literally hides 2 sig runes and I might be tripping but I sincerely doubt that a band named white wizzard having 2 sig runes hidden in their band font was a coincidence but it may be.

Other bands will out right put SS in their name but I could never tell if they were just dicking about or if they are actual Nazis.

I've never been able to just trust a band isn't white supremacist bc why would I believe them even if they say they aren't? I just catalog a moment in their music and if I ask a band what they meant I take their explanation into consideration but i'm not gonna believe they're not white supremacists on their word. I sadly don't think I can ever trust a metal band to not be secretly racists, lgbtqiacab+ phobes, or actual Nazis or worse.

Unrelated but not really unrelated, there's this moment in Dorohedoro where Kaiman walks into a baseball stadium wearing a black and yellow jersey with an 88 on it and that's the kind of shit im talking about. I can't really unsee the imagery I've associated with white supremacy and it seems like it pops up everywhere.

Metals great and bands like Nocturnal Breed, using the track "Thrashiac" as an example, helped me realize how easy it is to be indoctrinated into fighting for something you stand for and believe in and how it could be taken to the extreme where you would die and fight for and with your "brothers and sisters" who identify similarly to you. I could never tell if that was them intentionally trying to convey that point or if by over glorifying war and side ism and tribalism they demonstrated how easy and petty it is to go to war for something you believe in bc youre surrounded by people who also believe in something heavily enough to fight and die for their beliefs and how heavily intoxicated with war and violence people can become even when they believe in nothing except metal.

So metals taught me a lot but I've recently become uncomfortably aware of the imagery and themes I've been supporting and glorifying and the imagery honestly just gets uncomfortable at times. I'll want to put a patch that I really like on my vest but I'll realize the imagery is way to similar with white supremacist themes. Example, the Ghoulunatics Asylum patch or the Shitfucker shitswasifa (a literal swastika but slightly modified). I've read interviews where Shitfucker explains where they pulled their imagery from old Japanese Punk bands who would use Nazi imagery in their music and album art and acts. I would honestly love a shitswasifa patch for that reason tbh but I don't want to have to explain it to people and I understand that people would get uncomfortable when they see it bc its way to similar to a swastika.

I want to read more interviews and listen to more bands esp the old J punk bands Shitfucker talked about (they gave a list in an interview of bands that inspired them but I can't find it😭) I've also read that despite the imagery they hang out with leftist and anarcho bands but still idk anymore tbh the Nazi imagery doesnt even seem to matter a whole lot. I feel that thin blue line flags at least in America have a lot more white supremacist meaning than Nazi imagery at this point.

Regardless wearing a shitswaifas gonna get me shot and I don't want to die for something stupid like that.

On top of that there's so much more and I'm probably going to do a more in depth exploration of everything I don't know about the metal and punk scene before I die just to fucking know more. I've been lazy as hell lately with thoughts of dying and I've been to bored to do anything bc of it but this has been p inspiring I guess.

People want to can the Confederate flag and I honestly get that. It's a call back to the KKK and racism lynchings and slavery and everything. I also understand that Nazi imagery is insulting and scary to Jewish people. I don't believe in censoring freedom of speech. I would love to see this imagery put away and into a museum and it would really only take people being mature and just taking down their flags in respect to Jewish people and POC which I feel it's never going to happen unfortunately unless we censor imagery and criminalize it's use which seems itself like a slippery slope into fascism so I'm real confused right now on this lol. Plus censoring Nazi imagery prevents its use in criticizing our government when it begins acting like literal Nazis but I also feel like MAGA hats and thin blue line flags more than do the trick as imagery similar to nazism without needing to use Nazi imagery to call them out. We can just go "MAGA hat is bad and is fascism" and its true.

This is a tough subject that I want to be informed about.

Btw if there are typos, I'll fix them later if I can. This is my first post and it's 3am and I'm not rereading anything right now!

Ty for reading!

[nikkoliferous]

Sorry to interrupt this riveting Loki Dickscourse...

I was wondering if you could share some points about why Biden isn't a good person. It seems like he's close to a win now, but whilst everyone is going gooey eyed over him, he isn't gives me bad vibes. I tried looking online but couldn't find much at all. Then I thought of you, so if you feel like to, could you maybe list a few articles or something idk. I'm pretty clueless here, all I know is that Biden is Not It.

Ooh boy. So, however bad you’re guessing Biden is, he is almost certainly worse. I actually started a post that’s still in my drafts of all the reasons I could never vote for him. I never posted it because it was already so close to the election by the time I started compiling it and because it just didn’t feel worth the “you’re helping Trump!!!” headache that I’ve already gotten so much of over the past year. But it was basically a huge masterpost of articles about how horrible Biden’s record actually is.

It’s gonna be way, way more than you’ll ever want to read for the rest of your life, but I’m just gonna paste those links here and you can pick and choose which ones you want to read. Not to overwhelm you, but think of it like an anti-Biden buffet. I definitely don’t expect you to feel like going through them all, because it’s... a lot. 💀

Environmental Justice

Joe Biden Touts Endorsement From the Guy Who Poisoned Flint, Michigan

Joe Biden’s Sketchy Climate Record

Joe Biden Tells Climate Activist To Vote For Someone Else

Biden: ‘I Am Not Banning Fracking’

Foreign Policy

Joe Biden Championed The Iraq War

Joe Biden’s Iraq Problem

Let’s Be Real: President Biden Would Probably Be More Hawkish Than Trump

Biden Says Stay in Mideast, Increase Military Spending

Obama’s Far Right Foreign Policy

Obama’s Dumbest Plan Yet

Yemen: The Graveyard of the Obama Doctrine

America Dropped 26,171 Bombs in 2016

Libyan Slave Trade: Is Obama to Blame?

Joe Biden Supports Unelected Juan Guaidó in Venezuela, Says U.S. Should Keep Sanctions Against Cuba

Air Force Veteran Confronts Joe Biden For Enabling Iraq War

Yes, Trump Is An American Monster, But So Is Biden

Corruption

‘Middle Class’ Joe Biden Has A Corruption Problem

Joe Biden Serves Wall Street, Not Main Street

Joe Biden To Rich Donors: ‘Nothing Would Fundamentally Change’ If He’s Elected

Super PAC Backing ‘Middle-Class Joe’ Is Led by Lobbyists, Corporate Consultants, and Democratic Fundraisers

Biden Inc.: How ‘Middle Class' Joe’s Family Cashed In On The Family Name

Healthcare

Bidencare System Will Kill 125,000 Through Uninsurance

Biden Suggests He Would Veto Medicare For All Over Its Price Tag

Biden Open To Cutting Social Security And Medicare

Dems Begin Signaling A Post-Election Surrender On Health Care

Democrats’ Big Coronavirus Idea Is to, Uh, Subsidize Health Insurers?

Crime & Punishment

Joe Biden's 1993 Crime Bill Speech Is Worse Than You Think

Biden Repeatedly Pushed ‘Police Officer’s Bill of Rights’

As Calls to Defund the Police Grow Louder, Joe Biden Wants to Give Them More Money

Civil Liberties

The Many Times Joe Biden Took Credit For Writing The PATRIOT Act

Nearly 500 Former National Security Officials Formally Back Biden

Obama Wins The Right To Detain People With No Habeas Review

Obama Administration Has Declared War On Whistleblowers

Biden Campaign Lashes Out At Facebook Over Lack Of Censorship

Immigration & Race

Joe Biden's Terrible Record on Immigration Should Haunt His Campaign

Fact-Checking Biden On The Use Of Cages For Immigrants

The Deportation Machine Obama Built for President Trump

Biden Under Fire for Telling Immigrant Rights Activist Demanding End to Deportations to 'Vote for Trump'

Biden Campaign Doesn’t Consider Latinos ‘Part Of Their Path To Victory’

Joe Biden Can't Stop Praising Vicious Segregationists

Joe Biden Didn’t Just Praise Segregationists, He Also Spent Years Fighting Busing

Joe Biden’s Stunningly Racist Answer on the Legacy of Slavery Has Been Overlooked

Joe Biden Has Repeatedly Let African Americans Down

How Obama Destroyed Black Wealth

Joe Biden’s Record On Racial Integration Is Indefensible

Joe Biden: Everybody’s Chum

Biden Backtracks Comments Contrasting Diversity In Black And Latino Communities

Joe Biden Has Built a Career on Betraying Black Voters

Everything Else

Joe Biden’s Campaign Is Making It Very Clear: They Will Push Austerity in the White House

Joe Biden’s Role In Creating The Student Debt Crisis

Biden: ‘No New Taxes On Those Who Make $400k Or Less’

When Joe Biden Voted to Let States Overturn Roe v. Wade

Obama’s Fiscal ‘Grand Bargain’ Is A Great Betrayal of America’s Most Vulnerable

Joe Biden Keeps Lying — But You Won’t Hear It From Liberal Media

The Obama Years, In No Particular Order

All the Times Joe Biden Has Been Accused Of Behaving Inappropriately With Women

Biden's Decency Is Being Greatly Exaggerated

We Need To Talk About Joe Biden’s Cognitive Decline

Joe Biden's Fundamentally Wrong View Of Politics

The Democrats’ DNC Plans Show They Aren’t Even Pretending Anymore

The Treason Of The Ruling Class

I could probably list even more? But, well... you get the idea. I trust since the election is over now, people won’t feel the need to come in here all pissy at me for showing who Biden really is.

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

Mages Don’t Meddle

Rating: M

Genre: Angst/Mild Fluff

Word count: 16091

Summary: In a world where magic users must fear each other, Baz Pitch, a British born hex hiding in the 19th century American southwest, is just trying to stay alive. But when he meets a fellow British hex, his world is turned upside down in the most awful, amazing ways possible. PLEASE READ FIRST AUTHOR'S NOTE!!!!

Read on AO3

AN: Alright some of you may know that my favourite book series of all time is The Hexslinger Series by Gemma Files. It’s a gory but brilliant horror/dark fantasy weird western trilogy about gay cowboy wizards fighting Aztec gods. (It's also where my AO3 username comes from). I've been writing this AU on and off for like two years now lol. So when I saw this event, I saw it as motivation to finally finish it. And I did! Idk how many people are gonna like this, considering the obscurity of the books. The mythos is a bit complicated so here are the basic rules of the Hexslinger world:

1. Magic users exist, called "hexes" or "hexslingers” by most English speakers. They’re commonly known of and feared by some humans because of their immense, usually unstable power. Their magic is usually called "hexation" and a common descriptor for anything to do with them is "hexacious." Being a hex can either be passed down from parent to child or appears randomly. Most are children of a hex man and a human woman as pregnancy for a hex woman can be very risky to mother and child, but it's still possible.

2. Hexes aren’t usually born having magic. Their powers manifest at some point later in their lives except in very rare circumstances. For women it usually appears after their first period, while for men it’s usually after some sort of grievous bodily harm, e.g getting hanged or beaten. Before manifestation, some hexes show no sign of magic at all, while others have hints like perfect aim or weirdly good luck. It depends on the person and their power level.

3. Hex magic varies between people based on personality, culture, family history, and power level/type. For example, an experienced Chinese born hex with refined power will have a very different kind of magic than a newly manifested American born hex with more chaotic power. (That’s literally just from the original books lol.) Even hexes similar in multiple aspects can be completely different in the way their magic is expressed.

4. The only universal trait between hexes is that they all have the urge to feed off each other’s magic. They’re like magic vampires (wink wink). If they get too close to each other, they have the immediate urge to absorb the other's power and kill them. It’s completely instinctual and very hard to resist. Hence why hexes can’t be around each other. Or, to use the common phrase from the universe, “mages don’t meddle.”Okay that's the basics. There's A LOT of other stuff but I think that's all you need to know for this fic imo.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: So there's some period typical racism scattered around due Baz being brown in the 19th century American south. It's not too harsh imo but I still want to warn people. I hope I handled it alright, considering I'm a white af Canadian Irish-Jew, but if I didn't I'm very sorry. There's also a bit of period typical homophobia at the start. The closest I get to slurs is the use of "red" and "Indian" in reference to Indigenous people, "queer" in a negative context, references to sand because Baz says he's Egyptian, and Baz being called "darker folk." I felt it would be disingenuous to not include bigotry of the past and pretend things would be all okay for a queer POC like Baz. Especially since Hexslinger itself has major themes of homophobia, racism, and not being accepted in the majority of society. A few mentions of suicide, self harm, and torture too in relation to hex powers emerging too, which is also major in Hexslinger. The series itself is pretty brutal and dirty with lots of bigotry, blood, guts, and death. So those elements have gotten in here. There is some flesh burning stuff but I don't think it's that graphic, feels pretty typical for Carry On imo. Hopefully this all works well/makes sense.

As always, big thanks to Raegan of @carryonmylovelies Now with that all out of the way, enjoy!

———————————————

I gingerly take a sip of my whiskey. It's a horrible rotgut shite, but there’s worse stuff out in the wild west. This Slipfoot Joe’s seems to be okay by my now very, very low standards for this area.

“Well well, if it ain’t a pretty red boy,” the man behind me croons. His voice makes evey inch of my skin crawl.

I let out a deep sigh. I’ve been expecting this, but I’m still not pleased. “Piss off, arsehole.”

“Oh! Didn’t know Indians could sound English!”

“I’m British Egyptian, you twit.”

The man leans on the bar, smiling wide. It’s easier to count the few teeth he has than guess how many he’s lost. “What brings your sandy ass to our great country?”

The Call. The unending Call that signals all of us to come here.

I take another long sip. “Your gorgeous face, obviously. How much do you charge? I’ve heard American men are cheaper here than in England.”

The man reels back scowling. “You think I’m some queer?!”

“Well, I assumed so. Considering you were just flirting with me, a man.”

He snarls, whipping out his pathetic little pistol. The barrel shakes nonstop. “You got some nerve, boy!”

I finish the whiskey and delicately place the glass rim first on the filthy bar. “And you’re a racist bastard. You don’t see me getting all pissy.”

The gunshot happens in slow motion for me. I don’t even need to turn. I simply hold one hand in front of me and let my magic pour from me like a dragon’s breath. It curls out in front of me, a circle of blacks and charcoal greys and burning scarlets. Every hex’s magic is different. Mine is like a constant roaring fire, always threatening to consume me.

The bullet hits the shield with a tinny clink. Racist Man is frozen with wide, terrified eyes. I turn to him, orange and red reflecting in my grey eyes.

“You- You’re... a hex?!” He splutters.

“Thought that was pretty bloody obvious. Now go, before I drink your blood.”

Racist Man and his buddy scamper out of the tavern. I let the force field dissipate, crackling and popping in the air like a dying campfire. Joe, the bartender and eponymous Slipfoot, sighs as he cleans another glass.

“You know,” Joe says, “I’ve met other hexes. They’re stupid reckless assholes but they ain’t ever drank blood. Just suck each other’s magic.”

I chuckle. “Well they don’t know that, do they?”

“No, lucky for you. What’s a Brit like you even doin’ here anyway?”

My mouth presses into a thin line. I envy him. He can't hear The Call from that damned Hex City. I heard it all the way in Washington, and before I knew it I was on a train southeast. The only reason I haven’t actually gone to the horrid place is sheer stubbornness.

“I’m a hex. Where else would I be going?”

Joe freezes. He stares at me with more concern than fear. “I’d be careful, son. Those hexes I met? One of them was Reverend Rook himself. He’s beyond bad news, ‘specially with that heathen goddess by his side.”

“I know.” I trace my finger on the old wood, trying to focus on that instead of the ringing in my head. “But what choice do I have?”

———————————————

1867, two years after America’s bloody civil war, and it seems they’re about to be plunged into a new one. Except it won’t be slavery versus abolition this time, but humans versus magic. 

The news has spread like wildfire. In the final days of the war, a confederate soldier and unofficial chaplain named “Reverend” Asher Rook was sentenced to hang for abandoning his regiment. But he survived, and the suffering of the ordeal caused his hex powers to emerge. Rumour has it one Bible verse from his lips can level an entire town. Rook decided to use his new powers to steal and murder his way through the west, aided by his ruthless gunslinging lieutenant (and rumoured lover) Chess Pargeter.

He should’ve been just another hex outlaw for those American Pinkertons to take down. But somehow, a mere month ago, Rook made a pact with an Aztec goddess. And together they’ve created New Azteclan, or Hex City to the common man. According to the magical homing signal I hear, that every hex hears, it’s a place where hexes can lose their insatiable urge to feed off each other’s magic. We’ll no longer have to be loners by nature, picked off one by one by humanity. We could be together. We could be safe.

But at what cost? Nothing in life comes without a cost. I know that too well. My magic cost me my home, my family, and a good part of my sanity. I’d do anything to not be a danger to others anymore. And the possibility is right there. All I need to do is go further south and cross the border into Mexico to reach Hex City. But once I do that, there’s no going back. The temptation of the Call will be too strong. And whatever price The Reverend wants, he’ll get it from me.

I sit at the fire, chewing on some absolutely horrific jerky. I’m trying to focus on the flames instead of the voice in my head. I’m not sure whose it is. Maybe Rook’s, maybe his witch goddess’. It doesn’t have a discernible tone, just sort of an indistinct everyman sound, or a thousand voices speaking the same thing. Either way, it’s very annoying.

Come, it whispers. Come seek out Ixchel, the Mother of Hanged Men. Come stand before Her priest-king, to offer up your service. Come to build the First City of the Sixth World- the world of wonder, the world of power. Come, and join New Azteclan.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” I shout into emptiness, slamming the side of my head with my fist.

“I haven’t said anything yet,” someone replies weakly.

I bolt up. My magic roars to life inside me, a fireball forming in the palm of my hand. “Who said that?!”

The man slowly steps out of the darkness. He must be no older than myself, with his young, round freckled face. He has curly bronze hair, capped by an old second hand cowboy hat. His brown leather coat, plaid shirt, riding boots, and jeans are all filthy with desert dirt. A horse with saddle bags stands behind him. His blue eyes are wide and nervous. I notice a smell on him. Like green fire and smoke, with a strong scent of something brown and sweet. He smells like something I would gladly eat.

He’s a hex.

“Don’t you dare come any closer, you prick,” I say between gritted teeth. “I won’t hesitate to burn you to a crisp.”

The other boy shakes his head. “I’m not here to drain you. I...I just wanted to ask for some help.” He sounds British like me, but more rough and nervous, stumbling over his words.

“Yeah, right. Do I look that gullible? ‘Mages don’t meddle.’ We’d all drain each other dry if we were given the chance.”

He sighs heavily. “Well, of course I want to by instinct, but I’m not going to. I was just wondering if you had any food. All of mine got stolen by some angry humans.”

I consider just turning him away, or draining his magic and leaving his dried out corpse for the vultures. But he looks so desperate. How long has this young man been out here alone? My aunt had always warned me to be wary of all other hexes. We’re a bloodthirsty species, Basil. Never trust another hex, ever. Not even me. But I’m not my aunt.

I sit down again. “Fine. You can have some jerky. Just don’t come too close alright? I’d like to keep my magic and soul where they are, please.”

The man smiles (he has a nice smile) and sits opposite me at the fire. I throw a bag of jerky, and he catches in one hand. He shoves it in his mouth like a ravenous animal.

“So,” I say, “what’s your name?”

“Simon Snow,” he rep;ies, mouth still half full. “Your’s?”

“Baz Pitch.” Simon chuckles a bit, and I frown. “What’s so funny?

“Well, Baz Pitch is a pretty ridiculous name.”

“No more ridiculous than Simon Snow,” I snap. “What, were you named by circus performers?”

“Maybe. Not sure, actually.” Snow looks at the fire, but it feels like he’s looking right through it, his gaze very far away.

“Why’s that?”

Simon shakes his head. “Hey, are you going to Hex City?”

I huff, blowing some loose, dirty hair out of my eyes. I’m too tired to stop him from changing the subject. “I don’t know. Are you?

He shrugs. “Maybe. So far I am. The stories and Call do make it sound so wonderful.”

I scoff loudly. “Of course they do. Rook wants people to come. Then we’ll get there and be sacrificed to his bloodthirsty goddess. That’s probably what happened to Pargeter. No one’s heard from him lately, according to the locals.”

“But we’ll lose the hunger! What if the Reverend just wants us to be safe? Y’know, as a kindness to his own people.”

“No one does anything out of kindness, Snow. Least of all hexes.”

“You gave me food out of kindness, didn’t you?”

I glare at him over the flames. He shrugs with a faint smile. Fuck. He has a really nice smile.

 “I’m going to sleep,” I mutter. “But I’m putting a shield around me. Touch it and you’ll be burned alive. So don’t get any ideas about taking my magic.”

Simon throws his hands up in innocence. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

I lay down on my pallet, throwing up my force field. The crackle and hiss of magic around me distracts from the beautiful mage no more than seven feet from me. Whom I’m not sure I want to kiss or kill. Maybe both.

———————————————

I wake when the sun's centre in the sky. I’m breathing, so this Simon Snow hasn’t drained me dry. That’s good, I guess. 

I sit up bleary eyed. Snow is passed out on his own cot, drooling profusely with his mouth wide open (mouth breather). He’s put up his own shield, of course, (at least he’s somewhat sensible). It sort of looks like an electrical explosion, white bolts constantly combusting around him in bubble form. He smells so powerful. It’s taking all of my willpower to not hurt him. To not submit to my basic hex desires.

I take my sweet time to pack my things and douse the fire pit, secretly hoping Simon will wake up before I run out of excuses. Luckily, with a very loud snort, Snow bolts upwards. There’s terror in his eyes, and his breath is uneven and shallow. I know that look. I’m no stranger to nightmares myself.

“A good morning to you, Snow,” I say.

Simon lets out a long breath, waving a hand to dissolve his shield. “You didn’t kill me.”

“And you didn’t kill me. What a miracle.”

“I’ll say. Are you leaving?”

“Obviously.”

“Where to?”

I sigh heavily. “Well, my map says, there’s a town southeast from here. I haven’t been there before but it probably isn’t too bad. I was going to hide there for at least a bit.”

Simon picks at his nail beds, even though they’re already ragged and bloody. “Can I...can I come with you? I haven’t been around anyone in so long, y’know. It’d be nice to have someone to talk to”

I look at him with the most neutral gaze I can muster. “Are you going to kill me?”

He shrugs. “Haven’t killed you yet, have I?”

“There’s still time.”

Simon stands up, brushing the dust off his pants. “Alright, then I’ll make myself very clear. Baz, I’m not going to kill you. I’m not going to fight you at all, alright?”

I must admit that I’ve been lonely these few months in the desert. Hell, I’ve been lonely for the past few years. I’ve actually missed the company of others. But it’s not like humans or hexes want to be around me. Except for this one, it seems. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad. If we don’t kill each other first that is.

“Alright, fine. Just don’t try anything or I’ll burn you from the inside out.”

Simon keeps smiling. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

We mount our horses and ride off. I try to keep my eyes ahead instead of on Snow.

———————————————

“I can’t believe the food here,” Snow says. “It’s so much more spicy than in the North.”

“We are closer to Mexico, Snow,” I reply. I’m trying to figure out our route, while also listening to Snow when he’s more than six feet away. The hunger is manageable from this distance. Mostly.

“Well, yeah, but it’s so insane! Why can’t the north people get some spice from here? It would make their chicken more tolerable. London street food was awful but at least it had some flavour!”

That makes me snort out a laugh no matter how much I try not to. Snow grins at me, and his face is literal sunshine. Why must he be so perfect? It’s not fair. “London street food? You mean fish and chips? Those aren’t half bad, if I’m remembering correctly.”

Snow’s tawny face gets a little pink. He rubs the back of his slightly sunburnt neck. “Y-Yeah, they weren’t too bad. Just...other stuff was terrible...”

“Like what?” It’s not late at night now. I’m less inclined to let his dodging go. Call me crazy, but I’d like to know about the man I’m travelling with.

“Um...” He looks down at his horse’s neck. “I-I lived on the London streets, literally, until I was old enough to work for room and board. Finding anyone who would house a hex though, that was a challenge.”

His laugh is tinny and hollow. My heart, or what dark horrible mass we hexes have in place of one, twists at the words. I wish I was surprised. His story is all too familiar.

“You don’t need to be ashamed,” I say firmly. “We all have our own rough pasts. It’s practically required for hexes, in my eyes.”

Snow doesn’t look up, but his (pretty) plain blue eyes flick over to me. “Really?”

I nod. “Yes, of course. Hexes are usually shunned and harmed. Finding one who hasn’t been in a dire situation is more rare.”

“Have you met a lot of hexes?”

“Some. Mostly, I’ve heard stories. Far too many are like your’s.”

“Is your’s?”

My grip on the reins is so tight my knuckles are going pale. Memories rush through my head no matter how much I want to stop them. The darkness, the pain, the fire, then the stench of burnt human flesh, all capped off by years of trying to survive on my own.

“Unfortunately, ye-”

“What the fuck?!”

Simon’s screech is ungodly in volume and tone. His horse lets out a similarly panicked bray. She bucks up, but can’t get very high with the red vines tangled around her legs.

“Oh fuck,” I hiss. I try to pull back my own horse, but his legs are similarly wrapped up. The vines circle up and around us. I kick and stamp them with all my might. The blood red flowers look like the gaping mouths of monsters.

“What the fuck are these things?!” Snow bellows. He tries to rear his horse back, but nearly throws himself backwards off his saddle instead. “Fucking shite!”

“Don’t do that, Snow, it won’t help!”

“Then what should I do?!” 

“Just stay still!”

Thankfully, Snow does as I say. Not thankfully, I’m not sure what to do. I know that human blood gets rid of the Weeds, but even if I count as human in this regard, you need a relatively large amount of it. So unless I want to pass out, I’ll need to think of something else. But what else can curb evil bloodthirsty Aztec plants?

“Baz!” Snow’s horse pancis the more the weeds wrap around her, which makes Snow panic in turn. He looks at me with desperate wide eyes. “Baz, do something!”

Oh, fuck it. I’ll solve this the way I solve my other problems.

I reach deep within myself, down to the flames that burn in what’s hopefully my soul, or at least what hexes have instead. I grab that power and let it out through my arm. Fire roars to life in the palm of my hand, and I unleash the full force of it on the Weeds. A tidal wave of blackened-red flames engulf the plants.

“Jesus Christ!” Simon shouts. The plants don’t burn per se, I’m not sure they even can. But they still shrink away from us. I keep pushing more magic out until they Weeds a good distance away. 

“Run,” I say, “now!”

Snow and I both wrench our horses 180 degrees and run like the wind. We ride fast and far with no destination, but we keep each other in sight. Only when my pulse is no longer hammering in my ears do I start to slow down. Snow follows, and eventually we stop near a large tree. All four of us are breathing hard.

“Bloody hell,” Snow says. “W-What the fuck were those?”

“Red Plague Weeds,” I reply, dismounting my horse. “They’ve been popping up all around here. No one knows where they come from, but we’re all pretty sure they have something to do with Rook and his witch goddess. Just like every other bizarre thing nowadays.”

“How come I haven’t seen them before in the towns?”

“Because the way to get rid of the Weeds permanently is blood, Snow.”

Snow’s eyes go wide with horror. “Blood? Any blood?”

I sadly shake my head. “No, only fresh human blood. I’ve heard a bowl full collected from the townsfolk is good enough. I don’t even know if hex blood counts. No one’s ever tried, as far as I know. We’re extremely lucky we got away.”

“So I gathered,” Snow sighs. “Now what? We’ve gone a good way backwards now, if I had to guess.”

“Agreed. We’ll have to try and move around the Weeds. If we’re lucky, the town will still be reachable.”

“No one has ever called hexes lucky.”

We both laugh a little. Sometimes laughter is the only way to deal with our horrible existences. I pull the waterskin out of my bag and take a deep, long drink. “Let’s stay here for a moment, though. That blast took a lot out of me.”

“Y-Yeah, that makes sense. Um, I’ll just...”

He turns his horse to the side, trotting away from me. My stomach drops out. Where’s he going? Am I going to be alone again? I’ve only been with Snow for one day. That’s nothing compared to the last two years I’ve been on my own. But now I can’t imagine going back to that crushing, never ending loneliness.

“Heading out, Snow?” I keep my tone neutral, holding back the desperate tremor that threatens to bleed out. “Suppose I’ll see you around, then.”

Snow whips his head around. If I were a more hopeful person, I’d say he looks even more panicked than when we were tangled in the Weeds. “W-What? No, I was just gonna go a little further away...”

“Do I smell that bad?” I probably do. Hygiene is not a priority in these parts.

“No! The opposite, actually...” Snow looks to the side, a little red on his face. “You used a lot of magic before. I can still smell some of it. I, uh, want to keep my promise...”

Oh. Right. I should count myself lucky that he didn’t drain me the minute we stopped. “Yes, yes, of course, makes perfect sense.”

“Unless...you want me to go...”

I gulp down the massive lump in my throat. “Do you want to go, Snow?”

Snow scratches his neck. He points his thumb to the side. “I’ll be waiting over there, until we’ve both cooled down. Alright?”

I would never admit how much relief that brings me. “Alright. We’ll set off again in an hour or so.”

“Okay.” Snow trots over to a good distance away. His brown, sweet smell still lingers in the air, but it fades just enough for me to rest properly. I sit back against the tree, drinking a good portion of my waterskin. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Snow doing the same. I try to not watch him. But it’s very, very hard.

———————————————

Nightfall hits before we reach the town. Snow can’t ride very fast, and I’m still more than a bit drained. So once again, I have to sit opposite the man who will most likely kill me soon.

He fidgets endlessly, picking at his nails and sleeve. It’s infuriating. He gnaws on the jerky like a crazed cat or something. I huff and shake my head. Snow looks up at me.

“What?” he says through a bite.

“Do you ever stop moving? We’ve been sitting here for over an hour and there hasn’t been a single moment of stillness from you.”

Snow snorts. “I don’t see how that affects you.”

“It’s annoying.”

He snorts again, but there’s a small smile now too. “Maybe this is the real reason hexes don’t interact. We're all arseholes.”

“That is hardly a hex thing, Snow. I’ve known humans and hexes alike that I can’t tolerate.”

“Am I one of them?

I hope my face doesn’t flush too hard. “You’re still here, aren’t you?”

He chuckles quietly and goes back to eating his jerky, with far less fidgeting this time thankfully. We sit in silence for a while. I keep sneaking looks at him, then tearing my gaze away every time. The firelight makes Snow’s tawny skin almost glow and his bronze hair sparkle gold. He’s a constellation of moles and freckles. He’s a gorgeous mess. Just looking at him, I can almost forget that we’re supposed to be enemies.

“What part of England are you from anyway?” Snow asks through a mouthful of dried out meat.

“Hampshire. Though if you asked the people here, they’d say I’m from Buckingham bloody Palace.”

Snow throws his head back laughing. It’s a ridiculous, wonderful sound. “Damn true! I’ve lived on the streets of London for the past ten years and an American asked me if I’m related to the bloody queen! They have no idea about accent differences. They think every Brit is royalty.”

I freeze. Snow’s laughs slowly subside. He must notice the utter panic in my eyes. “You lived on the streets of London for a decade? That long?”

He pulls in, curling his thin body in on itself. This Simon is a hex like me, a terrifying being filled with unimaginable power, yet right now, he looks so...small. “Well, not the whole time. It’s been on and off. I found some places to live for a bit but they never lasted. Thank God for magic. Or thank the Devil, if the humans are right about us.”

He chuckles nervously. I shift uncomfortably in my spot, trying to hide the way his laugh makes me face heat up even more. “I guess so. It’s taken care of me since-”

There’s a crack. It’s small, far off, almost indistinguishable from the regular sounds of the desert, but it’s there. My aunt always said I have the ears of a bat. I swing my head around.

“What is it?” Snow says.

“Hush! I think I heard something.”

Slowly, I stand up, crouched over with my fists clenched. My magic sizzles and sparks inside me, begging to be used. I see Snow stand too at the edge of my vision.

“Die hex scum!”

The man launches himself out of the darkness, jagged knife in hand. He knocks me flat down to the ground. All the breath is forced out of me as my back hits the sand.

“Fuck!” I wheeze.

I push at him with both arms, thankfully keeping my pretty face out of his slashing range. He writhes and struggles like a rabid wolf. His dirty crazed smile, missing most of his teeth, looms over me. I recognise him.

“You,” I growl. “Did you really follow me all the way here from Slipfoot’s, you pig?!”

“Die!” He says that like it means absolutely anything, like I haven’t heard it a hundred times before.

Racist Man has no technique. He just screeches and flails with his knife. Aunt Fiona’s words come to my mind immediately. “Every self respecting hex needs to know how to defend himself, Basil.” She said just before pinning me to the ground in one move. I hook my leg around his and flip him onto his back. He gasps and lets out a rattling cough. I hover over him, knee on his chest, pinning his knife hand to the ground.

“You don’t deserve to live, you sand demon.” He spits at me, splashing against my cheek. I flick it off with ease.

“Such an original opinion.” I feel the fire blazing in my gut, threatening to consume myself and everything around me. “I should scorch off all your skin.”

“Course you would. All you hexes, just filthy murderers. No wonder y’all are fleeing to Rook’s heathen paradise. Your kind don’t belong around civilized folks.”

I growl again. First he despises my skin colour, then he thinks he knows anything about hexation. This bastard, so stupid and ignorant. We’re only monsters because we have to be. Because men like him come at us with knives and guns and nooses. There’s no holding the fire back. My hand heats up around his wrist. He screeches as his skin sizzles under my fingers. He drops the knife, but I don't stop. All my rage pushes out through my hand and onto his increasingly scorched skin.

“Get off me!”

I turn to see Simon, struggling against another man. His fingers spark and sputter uselessly as he pounds against the guy with a hand around his throat.

“Better save your man over there,” Racist Man hisses.

I give him one last good death stare. I see him shiver just slightly. At least he has some good sense. “Run fast and far. If you come near us again, so help me God I’ll melt through your entire brain.”

The look of terror in his eyes is enough of an answer. I jump off him and run towards Snow.

“Oi! Off him, now!” I roar.

The other man turns to look at me. He has the same crazed look as his friend. “Or what, you piece of devil shit?!”

“Or this.”

I turn to the fire. With only one hand outstretched, my magic wraps around it, and pushes my power into the very core. The flames shoot nine feet upwards, illuminating the vast dark in blinding light. I turn back to the terrified human. With one swing of my arm, the pillar slams into him. He’s sent flying in a shower of flames and skids on the ground, tossing up a cloud of dustin his wake. I start to march towards him. But Snow throws up his arm to stop me.

“Let me,” he growls.

The tone of his voice stops me in my tracks. Simon stomps towards him, his entire hand now covered in tiny sparks like fireworks. His assaulter sits up, panting heavily.

“You better run now,” Snow says.

He sneers. “Don’t tell me-”

“GO!”

Snow’s magic explodes like a fucking bomb. It’s a bolt of violent and powerful energy that hits the assailant square in the chest. He flies back even farther. I stumble from the sheer force of it. The magic disperses as quickly as it appeared. Snow is panting, bronze curls still staticy with stray sparks. The human scrambles and runs away into the darkness.

We’re left there, breathing hard in the darkness, the embers of the now dead fire our only light. Simon tries to pull out the crackling electricity still clinging to his hair. It curls around his fingers and won’t dissipate no matter how much he shakes his hand out. Finally, I find my voice again.

“That was...”

“Awful?” Snow mumbles. “Yeah, I know. Half the time my magic doesn’t work, the other half it explodes. Pretty fucking annoying.”

I turn to look at him properly, still trying to dust off the little sparks. “No, it was incredible. I’ve never seen magic that powerful, or beautiful.”

Oh fuck, why did I say that? I’m going to explode myself any second. Simon freezes, then turns to me. His lovely plain eyes are soft. Half of his mouth pulls up into a smile. My pulse is pounding in my ears. “N-No one’s ever called it beautiful before. And...no one’s tried to save me either.”

He starts to reach out to me with his spark kissed digits. I see the little bolts pulling towards me like I’m a magnet. My own magic flares to surface, reaching back towards him. Tiny flames from my fingers curl around the lightning. And a part of me, that horrible instinctual part, desperately wants to grab his hand and add his beautiful, terrifying energy to my own until his body is nothing but an empty husk.

I take a large step away, hands behind my back. Simon does the same. His eyes are wide with terror now. We both know how close we came to giving into temptation.

“We should go to bed,” I mutter.

Snow nods furiously. I speed walk to my side of the dead fire. We both lay down and pull the blankets to our reddening ears. The only sound for ages is the desert wind whistling through the cacti. Until Snow decides to speak up again, God help me.

“Baz?”

“What, Snow?” I snap. I can’t talk to him anymore, it’s too damn painful.

“Have...Have you ever actually fully drained anyone?”

Oh. I wasn’t expecting that. The question hits me in my heart. All that comes to mind is my aunt’s face as I saw her for the first time in weeks. Her happiness turned to utter horror in seconds. The memory still aches deep inside me. I can almost feel that horrible hunger when I first manifested. I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath. “No. But I’ve come close. You?”

Snow pauses too. I can hear his shaky breathing clearly. “I had a hex friend back in London. Penelope. She was really good at magic, like you, so she tried to help me. We could only see each other for an hour a day for safety’s sake, and it worked for awhile. But one time, my magic got so out of control that I came this close to draining her.” He makes a loud sniffing noise. I hate imagining the tears I know are rolling down his face. “She told me it wasn’t my fault but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to hurt her. Next day I got on a boat to America. That was almost a year ago. I’ve been alone ever since, and it’s awful.”

“Is that why you want to go to Hex City?”

“Yeah. I mean, I just want to be able to have some choice, you know? Not make choices because of this power I never asked for. Don’t you feel like that?”

I think about my mother, who lost her life because of what we are. Or my six weeks of torture by that madman. Or how I had to run away from my family in fear of what I’d accidentally do to them.

“Yes,” I whisper, closing my eyes, “all the damn time.”

———————————————

We ride leisurely under the blistering sun. The desert has melted into more of a hot, grassy plain. Surprisingly, the climate and terrain actually gets less tortuous the further south you go in this awful state. I’ve only gone this far south once before. The Call somehow gets even stronger here. It threatens to fill every nook and cranny of my brain, but I beat it back. No disgraced Confederate chaplain or Aztec witch woman gets to decide what I do.

Snow is mumbling to himself about it being too hot. My head is whirring with a terrible, awful idea, but it won’t go away. My eyes keep drifting towards his beautiful face, and my mind keeps thinking of his beautiful magic. I got only a taste of the endless, consuming feeling of it, and it was exhilarating. If only he could control it.

I groan. “Snow, stop your horse.”

He looks at me confused, but does as I say. “What is it?”

“Get off. I’m going to help you with your magic.”

His eyes bug out of his skull. “What?! Why?”

“Because as incredible as your magic can be, I’d rather not have you explode when you sleep ten feet away from me.” 

It’s a convincing lie. Honestly, I want him to be able to protect himself. I don’t know exactly how long it will take to get to the south, or what could happen before then. Simon might’ve been killed if I wasn’t there. And I don’t know how long I will be with him.

I swing off my horse and Snow follows. We walk out into the empty plateau. He shuffles his feet nervously, chewing at his nails.

“Stay here,” I say.

I walk out and place my old empty flask on a cactus (it’s rusting anyway). Snow looks at it confused. I gesture to the metal bottle, then put my hands behind my back. “Hit that with a blast but avoid the cactus.

“O-Okay...” I watch his throat as he gulps. God, I want to touch that throat, I want to touch everywhere. But I’ll kill him if I do. It makes me hate my magic even more.

Simon raises his hand and takes aim. Small sparks dance between his fingers. One by one, they begin to increase. A small ball of lightning collects in his palm. Snow curls his fingers in, but they seem to be struggling. The ball starts to grow larger and Snow clenches harder. With little to no warning, a lightning bolt shoots out and hits the side of the flask. A blackened mark is left in its wake, but that’s nothing compared to the cactus. A massive chunk has been blown out of the top. It’s charred remains lay strewn on the gras.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Sorry, I was losing control, I had to let it go. Would’ve been much worse if I didn’t.”

“That’s alright, Snow. You technically did hit the flask.”

Snow scoffs, running a hand through his beautiful, sweaty hair. “Sure, I guess...”

I pluck the flask from the half destroyed desert fauna. Another horrible idea is coming to my mind, and I just might be mad enough to do it. “Maybe you need a greater motivator for staying in control.”

“Huh?”

I place the flask on my hand and hold my arm out to the side. “Hit the flask, but not me.”

Snow goes wide eyed again and inhales sharply like he’s been kicked. “A-Are you serious?! You just saw what I did to that cactus, right?”

“Well, you’re going to have to be accurate, unless you want me to end up like said cactus”

He pulls at his curls anxiously. The tiniest of parks fly off the ends. “I don’t know, Baz. I don’t want to hurt you...”

I try to ignore my rapidly beating heart. It’s been so annoying this past week, trying to get what it can’t have. I just flash a smirk at him. “Well, I believe that you won’t. Care to prove me right?”

A red colour spreads across his face. Part of me hopes that’s not just the sun affecting his pale, freckled complexion. “Alright, I’ll try.”

He rubs his hands together. His skin simmers with magic once again. It smells intoxicatingly good. Snow holds his right hand out, palm flat. The electricity builds on the surface. He keeps his hand clenched, but the energy threatens to spill over his fingers. I resist the urge to run in as fast as I can. I didn’t lie, I do trust him. But living on my own for almost three years has given me quite the self preservation instinct.

Sweat prickles Snow’s brow. He uses his opposite arm to keep the other one steady. “C’mon, Simon,” I whisper. “You can do it.”

The jagged white bolt shoots from his skin, far less formless than the last one. It zigs and zags, but in the end hits the flask straight on. The bottle explodes in a shower of jagged metal. I throw up a makeshift shield just in time. When I look at Snow, he’s flat on his ass, panting hard.

“Holy shit,” he says.

“‘Holy shit’ is right,” I respond with a chuckle.

He looks at me with a wide grin. It shines brighter than the midday sun. “I did it! That’s the most controlled my magic has ever been! Thank you, Baz.”

I nod. “You’re welcome, Snow. My aunt always said danger is a great motivator to learn. Especially when it comes to magic.”

Snow lays down on the grass, panting hard. It seems he’s not going to get up any time soon. “Your aunt, was she the one that taught you about magic?”

I kick at a piece of rusted shrapnel, my back to the resting Snow. “Yes, before it manifested, obviously. She wanted me to be prepared just in case. Her whole side of the family has a history of magic. It only appears every few generations or so. We both drew the short ends of the bloodline straw I guess.”

“You’re lucky with that, y’know. I never had anyone to teach me properly. Penny tried, but we never got far enough to make a difference. When I first got magic, this guy called the Mage offered to help. But it turned out he just wanted to drain me. I killed him by accident when he tried. I really didn’t mean to hurt hum, but he wouldn’t stop...”

I turn to him. There’s far too much pain in his eyes. “You had every right to defend yourself. Don’t feel bad.”

He lifts his head up. His smile is sort of sad, but it’s still gorgeous. “Thanks, Baz.”

I smile back as best I can. “You’re most welcome, Snow.” I place my hands in my pockets, desperately clenching my fists in hopes to keep my emotions at bay. “Unfortunately, I’m out of flasks. But we do have an oversupply of fauna. Want to try and not destroy a cactus this time?”

“Okay.” Snow nods, breathing steadily. “Okay, I’ll try.”

Snow takes his stance across from another unfortunate cactus. I watch him and give advice, but slowly have to back away as Snow’s sweet scent permeates the air. I try not to imagine being close to Snow, not having to fear him, him not having to fear me. Oh, what a life that could be.

———————————————

After another week of dodging the Red Weed, we finally get to somewhere. Covent Gardens, a town I suppose is named after the London borough. It’s sizable enough to have a slightly good inn; as in none of the panels are falling off and the sign is missing only a single letter. That’s practically a palace in these parts. I walk in with gusto, making the shutters rattle, Simon following behind me with his head.

Everyone looks at us. I’m not sure how obvious our hexation is, but I suppose we look enough like trouble. Plus my skin tone isn’t an asset here. Or anywhere, honestly. So I sneer and most turned away.

“They’re afraid of us,” Simon mumbles.

“As they should be,” I reply deadpan. I go straight to the barkeep, a bulky white man with truly horrific mutton chops. “I need two rooms.”

The man crosses his unnaturally large arms. “We don’t serve... people like you.”

I grip the bar lip, nails digging into the half rotted wood. “Like me how? Hexes or brown people?”

He sneers at me. “Neither.”

The fire blazes in my eyes. Wood blackens under my skin. “Now listen here, you stupid bastard, you better rent us a room or-”

“Now, now, Basilton,” a familiar voice says, “no need to be so rude. I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”

“Hello, Nicodemus.”

Nico moves to stand next to me. His suit is cheap, the stitches fraying at the seams. He’s still got that sort of menacing look, but he looks tired too.

“Fancy seeing you here, Pitch. How’s your aunt?” He smiles, showing off his missing eye teeth. It makes me want to punch him in his stupid face.

“Why would you care, Petty? You’re the one who left her after everything she did for you.”

He hangs his head back with a groan. “Still defending your family’s honour, I see. Ain’t my fault I wanted to realise my full potential.”

“What, by getting your teeth pulled out so you could get magic? Even when my aunt warned you what a curse being a hex was? You’re still an arrogant idiot then.”

Nicodemus growls and grabs my wrist. His magic reaches out to clash with my own. It’s slick like oil, wrapping around my fire like a snake. But there’s a roughness to it. A sort of mangy, wild energy that I remember all too well from the hex duel with my aunt. Now, I can smell the acrid tang of it too. It leaves a sour taste in the back of my throat. I’m not surprised his magic is as disgusting as he is.

“Looks like you went through some shit too, Basilton,” he hisses. “You’ve got the same fire as dear old Fi. What, the guilt of letting your mum die finally get to you? Try to end it all? Too bad, you just became the monster she never wanted you to be instead.”

His power gnashes at mine, trying to rip it apart and eat it. But Nicodemus has made a fatal assumption; that he’s more powerful than me. I push back against him hard. The fire rushes through my every vein. I revel in the way Nico’s eyes go wide. My hand shoots up to his throat and I shove him down so hard his back bends against the wooden bar.

“You bastard,” I growl. “After all these years you still don’t know how to keep your bloody mouth shut.” I hold his throat even tighter. His eyes bug out of his skull. “Maybe I should shut it permanently.”

I open the gates within, and his magic begins to pour into me. It’s the world’s greatest adrenaline rush. I’m invincible, powerful, a bloody god. Nico gasps and tries to push me away. But I’m still stronger. He could never stop me.

“Baz!” Snow shouts. “Stop it!”

I turn to him with burning eyes. Everything I see is cloudy, like a smoke screen or rippling water. “Why?!”

“Because,” his voice is desperate, and maybe even caring, “we shouldn’t be the monsters they think we are. Just look at them, Baz!”

I still have enough sense to hear what he says. The patrons cower in fear, eyes wide with terror as they look at me. It’s not an expression anyone wants to be subjected to, or cause. And though I hate him, Nicodemus is right. My mother never wanted me to be this. Another terrible, murderous, evil hex.

With all my strength and good sense, I find the will to let Nicodemus’ neck go. His power rushes back into him with a sputtering gasp. I glare at him as I pull away, fingers still trailing with flames.

“Leave,” I say flatly. “Now.”

Nicodemus runs faster than I’ve ever seen a man run before. I take a few deep breaths. It takes a moment for my magic to balance out. It still yearns for Nicodemus’ power, but I beat it back into submission. I won’t let the hunger control me. Then I walk towards the now terrified barkeep.

“Rooms still not available?” He shakes his head frantically. “Good.” I slap down some American money. “Two rooms, please. Also throw in some whiskey. I need a drink after all that.”

The man picks two keys out of a box, then a bottle and glasses from the shelf. He shoves them both forward on the bar and takes two large steps back. I snatch them up with a tip of my ridiculous cowboy hat.

“Cheers, mate.”

Snow and I take a table in a corner. No one dares to look at us. I pour drinks for both of us and shove his glass to the other side of the table. We’re as far apart as we can be but it’s still risky. My power is still hungry. And Simon still smells delicious. But I won’t hurt him. I can’t.

“So,” Simon says, vowel drawn out, “who was that?”

I throw back the whiskey. It’s sour and burns my throat, but it's better than Slipfoot’s at least. “His name is Nicodemus Petty. He and my aunt Fiona were friends growing up. They bonded over their mutual family history of hexation. But when my aunt and his sister, Ebb, manifested magic as teenagers, Nico was jealous. Fiona and Ebb both tried to tell him that hex magic was far more of a curse than a blessing, but he never listened. He wanted the power. When I was about nine, he finally succeeded in activating his own latent magic.”

“By having two of his teeth ripped out...”

“Mhm. First thing he did was stumble all bloody mouthed to my aunt’s flat.” I clench the glass so hard I nearly break it. “The bastard attacked her by surprise, and tried to steal her magic. He almost killed her, but Fiona got a lucky shot and threw him out the window.” I take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “As you can guess, I was there. It wasn’t pretty.”

“I can imagine.” He pulls in, picking at his nails nervously. “Um, if you don’t mind me asking...w-what was he talking about? With your mum?”

I pour myself another helpful shot of whiskey. I want to drown my brain in the stuff, honestly. I’ve never talked about my mum, it’s too painful, like ripping out a fingernail. But Snow has shown so much of himself to me. It seems unfair to hide. “My aunt and I aren’t the only hexes in our family.”

His eyes go wide as the revelation hits him, “Your mum is a hex too?”

I nod slowly, then drink the alcohol in one gulp. The warmth tingles in my veins and loosens my tongue. I stare at the glass, watching the light refract through it’s bends. “She was, but my father is human. They loved each other enough to not be scared, I guess. They never meant to have children. I was an accident, but my mother wanted me in spite of the risks. My father said she cried with happiness when she saw I was a boy. She thought if she kept me safe, I’d never become a full hex.” I flick a paint chip off the table with more force than necessary. “Then she died protecting me, doing what she promised.”

“How? Was it another hex?”

“Even worse, scared humans.” 

Snow’s face falls even more. He takes a long sip from his own drink. “So they tried to kill her?”

“They tried to kill all of us. Someone heard of my mother’s hexation, and they rallied a group together to fight our family. It wasn’t a real fight though. The cowards snuck in and tried to stab us. My mother killed almost all of them quickly” My fists clench so tight it hurts. “The last one nearly got me, but my mother stepped in front. He burned to ash just after he stabbed her through the throat.”

“Oh. Not even a hex could come back from that kind of wound...”

“I know,” I say between gritted teeth. “I know that very well, Snow.” I delicately place the glass down with a strained hand. “I...I tried to stop the bleeding but there was nothing I could do. I had no magic then. Even so, I doubt my powers could’ve helped.” A little flame pops up in my hand with barely a thought. Making fire is more natural than breathing for me, after all. I watch the scarlet snake dance between my fingers. “My family’s abilities have always been better at destruction.”

Simon takes another long sip, polishing off his drink. “I don’t know what my family’s like, but I hope they’re not like me. This power...it’s too much for anyone to have. I’d give it up in a heartbeat.”

“We all would, Snow. That’s what the humans don’t get. Most hexes are just as scared of themselves as humans are.” I pour my third drink. It’s been awhile since I’ve drank so much in one sitting, but if I’m going to get sozzled, tonight is a good time. “But that’s not up to us. We’re born like this. Nothing we can do but try to survive.”

“Believe me, I know that. All I’ve ever done is survive. In the orphanage, on the streets, here in America.” He lets out a small, sad laugh. “Hexation is how I ended up on the street, actually.” Snow looks directly down at the table. “When I was 11, I, uh, had a dream that I was exploding. When I woke up, the entire orphanage had been blown to pieces. Luckily no one was hurt, but the matron couldn’t very well keep a hex among other children.”

“So she thought sending you to roam among other humans was safer?”

He shrugs. “I don’t think she cared as long as I was far away from her.”

I scoff, swinging the glass between two fingers. “Sounds about usual for humans. What made you manifest? A particularly bad paddling from the matron?”

Snow chews on his bottom lip. His fingers drum the wood slowly. “I, uh, actually didn’t have to suffer. I’m one of those rare cases of sudden manifestation, apparently. That’s what Penny called it anyway. She said it was rare but possible.”

My grip on the glass gets even tighter. A sudden jealous rage consumes my mind. So Snow just exploded one day at eleven. That’s awful, of course, I’ll never deny that. But all I can think of is the coffin. The endless night of being trapped in that box, waiting for a relief that wouldn’t come, until I finally broke and became the last thing I ever wanted to be. I went through absolute hell. Of course I assumed Snow had to, like all other male hexes. But he didn’t. He’s never had the acute kind of torture I did. It’s not fair.

“Excuse me,” I say more harshly than I mean to, “I’m tired. I think I’ll turn in.”

Snow’s pretty plain eyes go wide. “O-Oh...okay. Good night, then.”

“Night.” I snatch the bottle up and leave the key for his room. Then I stomp up the stairs with irrational anger still burning me up. I know it’s stupid, but I can’t get past it. Male hexes get their magic through suffering. It’s a well known fact. How could Snow be like me without the same kind of pain? How could he ever fully understand me the way I thought he could?

The second my room door is closed, I drink down the last of the whiskey bottle. I’ve tried to avoid alcohol over the past few years. It would be far too easy for me to drink away the pain, the memories, the horrible guilt. Eventually, I’d drown myself in a bottle. That’s not a way I want to go. But one night of indulgence will be fine.

I wobble towards my bed, shedding my outer layers as I go. I collapse face first onto the old mattress. Whiskey clouds my mind. And when I finally pass out, all I see is empty darkness. I’m not sure if that’s better or worse than the nightmares.

———————————————

“...safe?”

“Out cold...”

The voices stay patchy as I slip in and out of consciousness. I try to force my eyes fully open, but the pounding in my head is too much. Indistinguishable figures move on the edges of my blurry vision. There’s little to no light. It must still be night, maybe only a couple hours since I passed out.

“Is..right thing?”

“Hex...Rook and Pargeter...dangerous...we...safe.”

“Fine.”

Something grabs both my wrists and my ankles. I try to struggle but I must still be too drunk. I can’t get my limbs to move save for some squirming. I try to summon my magic, but my mind can’t concentrate. It’s no use. Bloody hell, I’m trapped.

“Night night, hex,” a horrible voice says. Something soft is pressed hard against my face. I can’t take in air, I can’t breathe, I can’t fucking breathe. It’s like the coffin. No, I can’t do this again. I try to thrash harder and scream but it’s still no use.

Oh Lord, I’m going to die here. I wonder if I’ll see my mother on the other side. I wonder if I even have a soul to go to the other side. And I wonder how if Snow is okay. Christ, my last conversation with him ended in anger. If I had known, I would’ve said everything I’ve wanted to say this past week. But the first thing would be ‘I’m sorry.’

I’m sorry, Snow, for everything I said and thought. And I’m sorry for leaving you alone.

“Hey! Get off him, you bastards!” That voice is familiar even in my half drunken state. Thank whatever gods are listening that he’s okay.

“It’s the other one!” one of my assailants shouts. “Wasn’t Garth supposed to take care of him?!”

“That damn idjit fucked up!”

I hear the telltale signs of punches and kicks thrown about. One of the hands on me pulls off. All this excitement has thankfully sobered me up some. I kick some stupid bastard right in the stomach.

“Fuck!” they wheeze. The other humans are wise and let go of my wrist. I’m on my feet in a second.

“Bloody humans,” I growl out, still slurring slightly. “You can’t even let me fucking sleep?!”

The burly barkeep scowls at me. My would be murder weapon is still in his hand. “Eat shit, you demon.”

I scowl right back at him. “Oh, you want a demon? I’ll give you a fucking demon, love.”

The fire blazes up in me, all shining black and scarlet, and I make little effort to contain it. I let the flames fly out and encase the man almost completely. He screeches as his skin bubbles and burns under my powers.

“Stop it!” a woman yells. She comes at me with a knife raised. A whip of fire forms in my hand instantly. With one crack, it wraps around her wrist. She screams in the exact same way and lets her weapon clatter on the floor. She goes to her knees, clutching her blackened, blistered skin.

“You bastard,” she cries. “How could you?!”

“How could I!?” Even more fire plays over my hands. “I could ask you the same thing, human.”

“We’re trying to protect ourselves, monster!”

In that moment, in her eyes, I see every human who’s hurt me. The people who mocked me, who killed my mother, who turned me into this. All sense leaves my mind in an instant. “I’m a monster only because of you!”

With one wave of my hand, she’s thrown against the wall hard enough to make it shake. I spin around to see a man trying to crack Snow’s skull open with a butcher’s cleaver. One well aimed blast sends him flying as well. Another casts two aside. They don’t move much afterwards, but I find myself caring little. Let them die like my mother did.

“Baz, stop it!” Snow shouts. I ignore him as I send the last assailant against the wall, listening to their screams as I burn their chest. “Baz!”

“Fuck off, Snow!” I roar. “I- Ack!”

Pain rips through my shoulder. I clutch it and my hand becomes wet with what I assume must be blood. I fall forward. My nose cracks against the floor. I scream in pain and flames roar out of me in a massive plume They hit everything, including my shooter and the walls of the room. I can feel the whole space burning around us.

“Baz!” Snow’s voice is beyond panicked. I hear his footsteps rush toward me. His hands hover over me but won’t touch. He can’t touch me.

“Get out, Simon,” I rasp , turning my head to the side to look at him. He’s covered in bruises and ash. Yet he’s still so beautiful. “Run before more of them come.”

“Shut up, arsehole! I haven’t turned my back on you yet, and I’m not going to start now!”

If the world weren’t literally on fire right now, I’d find that touching. I close my eyes. At least my dying image will be of him. “Don’t be an idiot, Snow.” Surprisingly, the bastard fucking laughs. My eyes snap open again. The bloody back of his hand is pressed against his mouth as he giggles. “What the fuck is funny about this?”

“You,” he laughs, “called me Simon before.”

My face heats up, and it’s not from the fire. “No I didn’t.”

“We’re fucking dying and you can’t admit you used my first name?”

“I’m dying. You’re being an idiot and not running away like you should!”

“You’re too stubborn to die, Baz, and we both know it.” He jumps to his feet. “Get up, we’re getting out of here.”

“Snow-”

“Or are you too much of a yellow belly to get up and try?”

Oh, this bastard. In only two weeks, he’s learned me too well. I scowl at his stupid pretty face as I push myself up on my good arm. At the same time, thundering footsteps can be heard from the stairwell.

“That route is out of the question,” I say. “Where are we to go, Snow?”

“This way.” He holds his hand and in a mere two seconds, the opposite wall is blown to pieces in a rain of spark. “Now let’s go!”

“We’re on the bloody second floor!”

Snow runs towards the gaping hole and throws himself out. I rush to the edge, blood pounding in my ear. No, Snow cannot die, I can’t let him die. But to my utter shock and awe, Snow is floating his way down to the ground. He stops and starts and still hits the ground in an uncoordinated roll, but he’s okay.

“Oh, Snow, you brilliant moron,” I whisper.

“They’re probably still in there!” someone shouts from the hallway. I take a few steps back, breathe deep, and run off the splintered edge just as the humans burst through the door.

Instead of sending my fire outwards like usual, I keep it within me. I will my body to rise high like flames from a candle. My legs move slowly like I’m running in the air. Fuck, this is actually working. Slowly, I let my flame flick and die down, lowering myself along with it. I reach the ground with my own thud but stay on my feet. Snow grins at me. In all this horror, that is the greatest thing to see.

“Let’s get the horses and get out of here, Snow.”

“Agreed, Pitch.”

We sprint to the stables and thankfully find our steeds unharmed. I count ourselves lucky that our attackers didn’t consider them demonic too. Mounting is difficult with my left arm fucked up, but let it never be said that a human bullet could stop Basilton Pitch. I hold the reins with one hand as I spur him into a dash.

The wind whistles in my ears. Snow and I run even faster than we did from the Red Weed. Our kind is always good at running. It’s our natural state.

———————————————

Snow and I ride until it’s nearly dawn. The sky turns purple then crimson with the rising sun in front of us. When I see orange, my horse finally starts to tire out. Snow’s does the same. We slow down then stop.

“Think we’re far enough away?” Snow asks, breath short and strained.

“Yeah,” I reply, sounding the same. “I think they would’ve caught us by now if they were still after us.”

“Good point, good point.” Snow leans forward, putting his forehead on his horse’s neck. “God, I’m fucking knackered. I barely slept.”

“Me too. We should both sleep.”

“What if someone comes after us?”

“Point. Sleep in shifts?”

Snow nods. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Good.” I slowly dismount my horse, but get my footing wrong and start to fall. I grab the reins with my left arm and practically scream in pain.

“Baz!” Snow rushes towards me, but stops when I raise my good arm.

“Don’t...” I pant, “don’t come any closer. I’m injured, Snow, and my self control is severely weakened. So unless you wish for death now after just barely escaping it, back away.”

“Oh, yeah, right...” Snow backs far away just as he should, but my heart still aches. “What are we going to do about your shoulder?”

“I can fix it, but I’m going to need your belt”

Snow’s brows shot upwards. “My belt? What for?”

“Just throw it to me, Snow, for Christ’s sake.”

Thank God he doesn’t ask another stupid question. He just unbuckles the belt and does what I ask. I try to not let my hands shake as I fold the belt in half. The last time I did this was three years ago, when I sat in a London alleyway after a drunkard broke my leg, a mere four days after fleeing my home for good.

“Baz, what are you-”

“Snow,” I say firmly, “I need you to do me a favour.”

“Okay...?”

I sit on the ground, belt held tightly in my hand. “I need you to stay right there no matter what. Don’t move, don’t try to help. The best way you can help is to stay fucking still.”

“What the fuck is-”

“Promise me you won’t move, Simon.” I look him right in his blue eyes, my mouth a thin, serious line. “Promise me.”

Snow gives me a once over, then thankfully nods. “Okay, I promise.”

“Good.” I put the belt between my teeth. When I check on Snow, he looks beyond panicked. “If it makes it easier,” I say clumsily between the leather, “you don’t have to watch.”

“Baz-”

I slap my right hand over my left shoulder, and it feels like I’m burning from the inside out. My magic scorches my body as it wraps around my injury. The buck shot is pulled through my muscles and skin, ripping and tearing as they go, and I can feel every bit of it. I can also feel as my tissue and bone stretches to knit back together piece by agonizing piece. It’s an indescribable kind of pain. It’s what I imagine hell must feel like. I scream, I can’t help it, but luckily the belt is muffling as well preventing me from biting off a chunk of my tongue. Snow gasps in horror but he doesn’t move. He keeps his promises. I knew he would. He’s a far better man than me.

The burning fades as the skin finally seals shut. I cautiously move my hand, shaking off the shrapnel and gooey viscera that trails between my fingers. God, it's a nasty scab, mangled and uneven and horrifically inflamed. I can only hope the scar won’t be too bad. The one on my calf has faded overtime.

“Are you-”

“Not yet,” I say, cutting off a frightened looking Simon. “This one won’t take as long though.”

I touch my nose, feeling for where the breaks are. I squeeze my eyes shut, and with a horribly painful crack, I move it mostly back into place. I let out a short yell, but just pant and seethe as the bone and cartilage knit back together. I try to wipe the bloody snot from my hand but it's no use. Disgusting, but better than a broken nose. I feel around to make sure things are okay. Well, the tip is a bit crooked, but I can live with that. Right now, I’m thankful to be alive at all.

“Okay,” I sigh, finally taking the teeth mark covered belt out of my mouth, “now I’m done.”

“What the fuck was that?” Snow’s voice is somewhere between fascination and absolute horror. In short, a proper reaction.

“Something my aunt taught me. Hexes are essentially manipulators of energy and matter. And what are bodies but living energy and matter? With practice, you can fix any part of yourself.”

“But isn’t it painful?”

“Was that not obvious?” I snap. But Snow’s genuinely worried face softens my demeanor. “Yes, it’s excruciating. Hence why I try not to use the technique as much as I can.” I massage my still aching shoulder. “Today it was unavoidable, unfortunately.”

Simon runs a nervous hand through his dirty hair. “Fuck...”

I cough out a small laugh. “Yes, that sums it up pretty well.”

He laughs too, just as shaky and sad. “Sums up the whole night.”

The two of us keep chuckling softly in the wee hours of the morning. The ascending sun hurts my tired eyes. Using so much magic has taken everything out of me. I let out a long, deep yawn.

“You sleep first,” Snow says. “I’ll keep watch.”

“No, no, I can-”

“Baz.” He sounds firm, but also tired, and maybe even a little fond. I’m probably imagining that last one though. “Go to bed. I’ll wake you up in about eight hours.”

If I weren’t sleep deprived, magically drained, and recovering from grievous injuries, I would protest more. But Snow is damn lucky today. I simply sigh and stand up to get my cot from my saddlebags. I count our lucky stars we didn’t bring in too many of our supplies to the inn. Maybe God hasn’t completely abandoned us heathen monsters.

“I don’t have the energy to put up my shield,” I say, hoping my tone conveys enough.

“Okay,” Snow replies, “I’ll stay away, don’t worry. I keep my promises.”

My pulse flutters involuntarily. A smile creeps across my face no matter how hard I try to stop it. “I know you do, Simon.”

Snow gifts me one of his sunshine smiles. That’s the last thing I see before turning over and letting myself rest.

———————————————

Snow lets me sleep longer than eight hours. I’d be more mad if I wasn’t so exhausted. In return, I let him oversleep too. We’re both passed out by the time it’s dark again. Even hexes with all our inhumanity need to rest sometimes. Snow and I are lucky we get the chance this time.

In the morning, I reluctantly go to the next closest town. We did leave some of our things behind sadly, including most of our clothes. I’m damn well not going to keep roaming around the south of Texas in my bloody socks, and neither will Snow. I get us some new jackets, boots, and hats, ignoring the strange looks I get from the lily white shopkeeper. 

I grab us some more of that disgusting jerky too. If only good food could keep in these horrific conditions. When I reach the counter, the shopkeeper frowns at the things I lay out.

“You can pay for all this?” she asks. I scowl deeply. I’m too tired for this shit.

“Are people like me not allowed to have money here?” I snap.

“Ya can now, but in my experience, y’all darker folk are better at stealing my stock than paying.”

Bloody hell, I’m too tired for this racist shite. I slam two bills on the counter. “There. Hope I didn’t dirty these up too much for you.”

She glares at me hard. As she reaches for the money, I deliberately brush my finger on hers, and she yelps loudly. The edge of her index is red and inflamed. An undeniable burn mark, but far too small for anyone to believe it came from an evil, bloodthirsty hexslinger.

“Oh dear,” I say deadpan. “Your register must have gotten in the sun. Do be more careful.” I shovel the supplies in my bag as she looks at me wide eyed. “Have a nice day, ma’am.”

I can feel her scared eyes on my back as I leave. I get on my horse and ride out fast. No reason to stay in this shithole any longer. And I need to get back to Snow, where I belong.

———————————————

“Everything okay in town?” Snow asks.

I toss the bundle of clothes at him, along with a bag of jerky. “No one attacked me, if that’s what you mean. I didn’t get made for a hex. But I did get some flack for my skin tone.”

Snow’s face falls a bit. There’s something far too close to pity in his eyes. “Oh. I’m sorry-”

“Don’t, Snow. You’re in no place to apologize for some racist American bastards, it’s not your responsibility. Sorry from you means nothing.”

“But-”

“Would you accept an apology from me on behalf of all the rich men who have treated you like trash before?” Snow’s gaping mouth slowly closes. “Exactly. Now get those on. They’re slightly less dirty than our current garments.”

Snow nods and does what I say. I unbutton off my bloodstained shirt and wince as the tacky fabric peels off my skin. The scab has gotten a little better. That’s something I suppose. My eyes slowly move over to Snow without realising it. I steal a glimpse of his broad, bare back, golden like the rest of him. There are some jagged pink scars but they take nothing away how brightly he shines. I look away before I’m too tempted by what I can’t have.

“Much better,” Snow sighs as he slips on the new boots. “I’m surprised my feet haven’t been ripped to shreds yet.”

“Me too. I’m glad though, I didn’t want to do any more healing.”

“I don’t want you to either, fuck.” I hate how his concern makes me feel so good inside. “I’ll start setting up the fire. It’s going to get dark again soon.”

“By all means, Snow, do all the work. I won’t stop you.”

Snow snorts out a laugh, giving me a cheeky smile I can still see at this distance. Christ, I’m on fire, and for once it’s not from my magic. It’s so much better. I have to look away again before I do something ridiculous and deadly.

By the time the sun is down, Snow has made a wonderful small fire for the two of us. We both warm our hands from opposite sides. I don’t need to do it too much. My magic has almost fully replenished, for better or worse. And I’m so hungry that I actually enjoy the extremely salty bison jerky. Bloody hell, I’m turning into an American.

“Where are we going to go next?” Snow asks, mouth still full. “I’m guessing we should avoid any more towns.”

“Agreed. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not jump out of another building.”

“We certainly agree there. Christ, I was worried I was going to die.”

“Me too, Snow, me too.” I nervously fiddle with the string on my cloth bag. The words are coming out, and I can’t stop them. “I’m sorry, Snow.”

His brow adorably furrows. “Sorry for what?”

“Sorry for the way I acted that night, before I went to bed. I was very rude to you and I deeply apologize.”

“Oh...okay. Thanks.” He looks down, rubbing the back of his neck. “I-I was confused. Did I do something bad?”

“No, Snow,” I sigh, “you did nothing wrong. It was all me being stupid.”

“Okay...”

I sigh again. God, I can’t dance around it anymore. I have to tell him. After putting up with me for this long, he deserves to know.

“I was angry and...somewhat jealous of you.”

His eyes get very big. “Jealous? Of me?!”

“Yes, in a way. Because...you didn’t have to go through the same kind of suffering I did when I manifested. Which isn’t fair, because you lived on the streets while I grew up in a bloody mansion. It’s just not the same suffering I had, and I was angry I had to go through it when you didn't. Which is absolutely ridiculous, and I’m sorry I pushed that on you.”

“If you don’t mind me asking...what happened?”

I stare at him for a long moment over the fire. He holds my gaze, eyes round with worry and care. It hurts me in the most exquisite way. “It’s not a pretty story, Snow.”

His mouth pulls into a sad, slight smile. “Weren’t you the one who said that all hexes live through hardship, and we have nothing to be ashamed of?”

I chuckle and shake my head. “Using my words against me, a tactic of a true devious hex.”

He shrugs, still wearing that little smile. “What can I say? I can live up to our reputation sometimes.” Snow’s face falls again. “So what happened?”

With a deep sigh, rubbing my forehead, I start the horrid tale.

“My family always knew there was a chance I could be a hex,” I say. “But since my aunt couldn’t sense any magic on me pre manifestation, we assumed that I wasn’t too powerful, and manifestation could be avoided if we were careful. So I lived in the aforementioned secluded mansion all my life and I was never allowed to leave the grounds. All my time was spent reading, doing school work, or learning about hexation from my aunt, just in case. Everything in my life revolved around my mere potential to be a hex. I could never do or see anything. I felt like a prisoner. And when I was 18, I had enough.

“One evening, I snuck out of my room and went into the nearby town. I just wanted to see what was outside my home. But I was a naive sheltered kid. Of course I got lost on my way there and went into an area I never should have. Someone had knocked me out cold, and next thing I knew, I was in a cramped, dark box.”

“A box? What do you mean a box?”

I clench my fists tight until the shaking stops, then slowly let go. “It was a coffin, Snow. I had been trapped inside a coffin.”

I can almost feel the way Snow’s stomach must drop out at those words. I know, mine did the same when I realised where I was that night. “W-Why?!”

“It was hard to hear him through said coffin, but I got the main idea. He came from some old witch hunter family but had never caught an actual hex, until me. He’d heard the stories about my mother and had been secretly spying on me for months. When I escaped, he took his chance to kidnap me.”

“So he took you just to taunt you from outside a coffin?”

“I wish that was all he did,” I grumble. “He told me that the coffin was a test. There was a chance the hexation had skipped me over. If I was a hex, being stuck in the coffin would make me manifest, then he could kill me in good conscience. If I wasn’t and didn’t manifest, well, as he put it; ‘there are always casualties in the war for righteousness, boy.’”

Snow’s jaw drops to the grassy ground. “So even if you were human, he would’ve killed you anyway?”

“Mhm, mad bastard.” 

“How long did he keep you there before you escaped? A few days?”

I take long, steady breaths, beating back the old fear that creeps up my throat like bile. I can almost still smell that unique rotten scent from the coffin. I’ll never forget it. I never can.

“Snow,” I say slowly, “I was in that coffin for six weeks.”

And I thought he looked horrified before. Snow drops his jerky bag, hands shaking. I want to grab them, hold them still, comfort him in whatever way I can. The urge is almost stronger than the Call.

“S-Six weeks?! How are you still alive?”

“Thank the witch hunter,” I grumble. “He drilled very small air holes in the lid, and gave me enough food and water to keep me alive but starving. I think, hex or not, he wanted me to suffer because I was my mother’s son. A hex’s child was just as guilty of sin in his eyes.” I rub the bridge of my nose. It aches with the pain of my past. “At the time, I had no idea how long I was in there. It was just one endless night of torture. I begged and pleaded with the hunter to let me go, but he only laughed and called me pathetic hex scum. After six weeks, well, he finally got what he wanted.”

“You manifested.”

“Almost as violently as you did.” I trace the lines of my hand, the skin rough from my fire. I remember my mother’s hands being the same. “The details are blurry, but I remember enough. It started as just a tingling in my gut, but soon it became a burn. And then it spread as quickly as a forest fire.”

“Is it always fire with you?” The corner of Snow’s lip quirks up. The bit of teasing lilt in his voice makes me feel a bit lighter. I can't help but smile back a little.

“Usually, yes. It's always run very strong in my family.” I bounce a flame between my fingers. The movement is strangely calming to me. “I quickly learned I was no different. Before I knew it, I let out a massive ring of fire in every direction. It blew the coffin apart, of course, and turned my captor into a charcoal husk.”

Snow scoffs, a surprisingly vicious expression on his face. “Better than he deserved.”

“Agreed. I have no idea what happened to his body. I left almost immediately, though I wasn’t fully conscious. Six weeks in the coffin had deprived me of most of my mental faculties. Luckily, he kept me not far from home, and I could wander back on pure muscle memory. But going home turned out to be a terrible idea.” I grab the small fire and snuff it out in one go. But my fist stays clenched. “My aunt had been staying there while everyone searched for me. The second I walked through the front door, I could easily smell her. She was overjoyed to see me, until she smelled me too. And as I said, most of my mental faculties were gone.”

“So you attacked her on instinct.”

I chuckle sadly. “Quick study there, Snow. I didn’t even know what I was doing. I was just so bloody hungry all of sudden. I can’t even describe it.”

“You don't need to describe it to me, Baz.” He brings his knees under his chin. “I’ve felt hex hunger too. It’s...awful when you’re in the middle of it.”

“And when you’re not, you try to drown it out or distract yourself. But deep down, you know one day you’ll give up and listen. Then it will take over.”

Snow nods, looking at me in the eye. I’ve seen so much profound sadness in a person’s face. “And you’ll hurt someone, no matter how much you’ll regret it later.”

If I have a soul, it’s aching horribly. How could fate be so cruel as to give me Snow? So wonderfully brave and kind to a fault, and who actually understands what my life is like. The perfect man. And someday soon, he’s going to kill me. There’s no doubt I’ll be the one to die. I won’t kill him, not ever. I’d let him take everything from me before I’d kill him.

“Did you hurt your aunt?”

Thankfully, I can shake my head to that. “No, not at all. She was an experienced magic user, while I was a starving, half crazed newly minted hex. She took me down in seconds. When I woke up again, I was cleaned up and in my room. It took a second to regain my bearings, but I soon remembered what had happened...what I had become. There wasn’t any debate in my mind. Within an hour, I had packed my most practical clothes along with any small valuables I could pawn. Then I ran away and never looked back.”

“Which is how you ended up in America.”

“What better way to protect my family from me than by putting an ocean between us? At first, I stayed in an empty little corner of the American frontier. I just wanted to live out my lonely hex existence as long as possible. I didn’t expect the Call or this looming hex war.”

“No one did,” Simon sighs. “Hexes working together has never been possible before. Who could’ve imagined some American preacher would team up with an Aztec goddess to do just that?”

“Fair point. But now he’s made our existences much harder in a way. Look what those humans tried to do to us at the inn. They were even more scared because of Rook”

“Yeah...”

I groan, pushing my face into my hands, rubbing it up and down. “I never asked to be like this. I tried my hardest to avoid being like this. Then that choice was ripped away from me by some madman. Now I’m trapped between murderous humans or a bloodthirsty witch goddess. Why am I here? Why do I have to be here?!”

“Baz-”

“I don’t want this,” I choke out through my building sobs. “I want to see my family again. I just want to go home!”

I breathe hard and fast, holding back tears with all my strength. No, I refuse to cry. I swore to never cry again after the coffin, because I wasn't sure I could survive falling apart again. Yet here I am. I thought I had shed every tear I have there. I’m so pathetic.

“It’s okay,” Simon says. His voice is far louder than before. “Whatever you’re feeling is okay. It’s...it’s okay if you’re not.”

Slowly, cautiously, I lower my hands, blinking away the tears that had collected. I inhale sharply. Snow is less than two feet away from me. I can count the moles on his face, see the golden highlights in his bronze. But worse, his unbelievably delicious scent fills every cavity of my nose.

“You really shouldn’t sit so close, Snow,” I whisper. My eyes fall down and become completely fixed on Simon’s plush lips.

“I know,” he says under his breath, “but I don’t care.”

He touches my hand, and I feel his magic run through me. That explosive sensation pulses through my veins so hard it almost makes me gasp. The instinctual part of my brain goes fucking mad. It wants me to grab his throat and drain every drop of his magic, his essence, his very soul. My breathing gets shallow and laboured.

“Simon...” I say.

And then he kisses me.

It’s cautious and shy. His lips barely brush against mine, but I feel it everywhere else, especially in the way our powers rise to meet each other. The magic collides, but doesn’t clash. They meld and twist together at our points of contact, desperately needing to connect.

Snow opens his mouth, turning the kiss into one of pure heat and hunger. I gladly do the same. He grabs either side of my face and shoves his tongue down my throat. I grip his collar and push back against him. My entire body is filled with endless energy. I’m a star going supernova. And I want to explode with Simon. My nails scratch viciously across his neck. He clenches his fist in my hair, pressing our faces closer. I shudder as Simon bites hard on my bottom lip. I’m wrapped in cold heat, wrapped up in him. I feel so alive. It feels so right. But it’s wrong.

With all the strength I have, I shove Snow off me. We both fall back on the ground, breaking our closed circuit of feeding on each other simultaneously. Simon scrambles further away panting. I’m similarly out of breath. Both our lips trail white smoke, like they’ve been singed by ice. My magic readjusts after being sucked away and added to all at the same time. A bit of Snow’s explosive energy still sits in me, swirling around like a miniature star. We just stare at each other wide eyed for a long time.

“Shit,” Simon whispers.

I sigh heavily, running a shaky hand through my hair. “Well said.”

“We nearly killed each other.”

“Mages don’t meddle, Snow. We both know that.”

Simon groans, clutching his hair in his fists. “I know, I know. I almost killed Penny last time and I swore it would never happen again. But look at me now. Of course I fuck up.” I can see tears forming under his eyes. “What’s the point of being an all powerful hex if it means being alone forever?! I can blow up a building with my mind but I can’t even bloody kiss you! It’s not fair!”

I pick at my shirt sleeve with shaking fingers. “Maybe God is punishing us.”

“We didn’t ask to be like this, Baz!”

“That doesn’t change what we are, Simon! We’re freaks of nature, cannibalistic monsters!” I nearly rip through the fabric of my shirt. I'm so angry and so fucking tired. “Maybe we truly are devil spawn or something, like all the humans say. Maybe they’re right to be scared of all of us...”

I turn away from him, just staring at the fire. The sting of the smoke keeps me from sinking too low into my self loathing. Snow moves in my peripheral. We sit side by side. My skin prickles as he hovers his hand over mine. It takes every bit of my will to not try and drain him again.

“There’s somewhere we can go where we aren’t 'Devil spawn,'” he says.

I tense up. “Simon, that’s risky. It could all be a farce.”

“I don’t care if you think it’s just a farce, Baz! It’s still a chance. For you and me, for us.” He lightly brushes one of my fingers. I have to rip my hand away before I hurt him again. His pretty eyes are filled with pain. “See? Wouldn’t you like to stop doing that? Isn’t it worth the risk?”

I’ve been running for most of my life. I ran from my mother's legacy for as long as I could. I ran from my family when I feared my own hunger. And I could run now, from Simon and the fear of killing him. But I’d also be abandoning the chance for some sort of happy life. It may not be perfect, but it would be far more than my ancestors ever had before. Can I sacrifice that for fear?

“I’m tired, Snow,” I say weakly. “We should both get some rest.”

“But Baz-”

“Let me sleep on it, alright? Please?”

Snow takes in a deep breath, and lets out a long sigh. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

I want to kiss him so badly right now. Just grab his gorgeous, sunshine face and kiss him goodnight. Since I can’t, I smile as genuinely as I can at him. It’s not easy for me, but I mean it with him. “Goodnight, Simon.”

Snow stares at me for a long moment. But slowly, a smile creeps across his face too. The fondness threatens to melt me, “Goodnight, Baz.”

We keep our eyes locked for as long as we can. When I finally lay down, putting my crackling shield around me, the image of Snow’s wonderful face relaxes me into sleep.

———————————————

I bang my fists against the wood over and over, ignoring my already numerous splinters.

“Help!” I yell. “Someone help me! Please, get me out of here!”

All my pleas fall on deaf ears, as usual. No matter what I do, no matter how loud I scream. I’m stuck in this damned coffin. I scratch at it until my fingernails tear from their beds. Blood drips into my mouth, leaving an iron taste in the back of my scream sore throat.

“I’m not a fucking hex! I just want to go home!” I sob so hard I nearly choke on my own breath. “Just let me go home.”

My aching arms finally fall. I curl in on myself as much as I can within my confines. I close my eyes, but there’s little to no difference in the endless pitch black. Tears run hot down my face. They leave small trails in the dirt that’s accumulated over...however long I’ve been here. I don’t know anymore. Time is meaningless where there’s no sunrise or sunset. Life is meaningless in here.

“Baz?”

His voice is far away, but it still rings clear. My eyes slide open. “Simon?”

“Oh lord. Hang on, Baz! I'll get you out!”

I can only hear as Snow desperately tugs at the coffin lid. It should be impossible, the thing is nailed shut, but somehow Snow rips it open. The light is dim yet still hurts my eyes. I can't help but hiss at the pain.

“It’s okay, Baz,” he says in that unbelievably soft tone.

His hand reaches to me through the blinding light. Slowly, I reach back. And when I hold it, I know I’m supposed to be in pain, but I’m not. Instead, I’m just calm, happy, safe. Snow slowly pulls me out. His arms snake around my back, holding me up. He looks me over, taking in my decrepit, decayed state from ages in that damn box. And miraculously, he smiles. Even like this, he looks at me with such care.

“You’re alright now, Baz. I’m here.” He cups my face. “I’m here for you.”

Emotions clog up my throat and tears run down my cheek, but this time they’re for a good reason. I put my own shaking hand on his golden face. He’s so warm. “Yes, you are. And I’m here for you too, Simon.”

He’s still grinning as I lean forward, pressing my lips to his. But this time there’s no fear I’ll kill him. There’s just the utter joy of being with the one who understands me best, the one I want the most.

Oh, how I want this.

———————————————

I blink awake slowly. The morning sun is just rising over the horizon, turning the grassy landscape violet. I sit up and see the now familiar body on the other side of the fire. Snow sleeps in a knot, arms and legs pulled in. The furrow in his brow says he’s in the middle of a nightmare too. Though mine wasn’t one by the end. Not when he was there.

My mind is made up.

Once again, I’m packing my things lowly, waiting for Snow to wake. Luckily, he stirs while I’m only halfway through tying up the cot. He rubs the sleep from his eyes in such a terribly adorable way.

“Morning,” I say.

“Morning,” he yawns. “Are we going now? Or...are you?”

My heart seizes, but only for a moment. He’s right to be concerned. The fact that we’ve travelled together for two weeks without killing each other is a miracle among hexes. After last night’s close call, a sensible man would leave and never return. I was once a sensible human man. But I’m a deranged, bloodthirsty hex now. Why not act like one?

“You should get up and start packing, Snow. If we’re going to make it to the Mexican border before nightfall, we’ll have to ride fast.”

His eyes go rounder than a full moon. “You mean...”

I pull the pack tie tight. “We’re going to Hex City.”

“What changed your mind?

I sigh heavily, then walk over to him. I stay at a safe distance of course but Snow’s magic pulls me to him, my body begging me to take it. Instead, I simply hold out my hand to him. Snow stares for a moment but does catch on. He offers his own to me. Once again, our magics reach out to each other, wisps of fire and lightning twining together. It sends a faint whisper of that explosive adrenaline through my veins. So incredible and so wrong.

I snap my hand away, fists clenched hard. “Because of that. If I were a more selfless person, I would simply leave, but unfortunately I’m not. Are you?” Snow looks me over. His eyes pierce me in a way no one’s ever has before. He slowly shakes his head. “Exactly. I may be scared of Rook and his goddess, but I’m more scared of hurting you. There’s only one place where I won't.”

“Hex City.” He chews on the corner of his bottom lip. “What if you’re right though, and Rook’s price is too high?” 

“Then at least we’ll pay it knowing we tried to have a real life, instead of running like we’ve always had to.” I stand straight with my head held high. No matter the fear, I’m sure of this. “I think we’ve both suffered long enough, Simon.”

The way Snow’s face relaxes means the world to me. I love seeing that, seeing what he looks like without the heavy burden of hexation on his shoulders. Maybe I’ll be able to see that more in Hex City.

“It’ll probably be nice there,” he says. “I mean, a city made for hexes by hexes is going to be weird, but I bet it’ll look amazing in it’s own way.”

I chuckle and nod. “Agreed. Buildings and roads made by magic will certainly be interesting.”

“Penny would probably want to study them.” He sighs, but there’s a lightness to. “Maybe Penny will come one day, and I could see her again.”

“Maybe. I would love to meet her. I might be able to see my aunt again one day, too. I could introduce you to her.”

He beams so bright at me I fear I’ll get sunburnt. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Me too, Snow. So let’s get going.”

We finish packing very quickly. Snow gets on his horse as clumsy as he usually does. I snort at the way his American cowboy hat nearly falls off his head. The death glare he gives me has little impact, what with the way he’s grinning. He hasn’t stopped grinning almost since he woke up. I can’t blame him. I have trouble controlling my smile either.

“Ready?” he asks. As if he even has to. I’ve made my choice, and I’m sticking to it.

“Ready,” I say. “Let’s go.”

Snow and I both send our horses into gallops. We soar across the grassy plain, the Texas sun illuminating our way. The impending hex war still looms over us. But I will fight until my last breath to keep any happiness Simon and I can find.

I can almost see our future. Soon, we’ll reach the terrifying and wonderful Hex City. Rook will ask for his price, and we’ll pay, because it’ll mean a freedom we've never known before. We’ll be able to hold hands, kiss whenever we want, sleep in the same bed, simply be around each other with no fear of our hexacious hunger. It’s more than I could have ever dreamed of even a few months ago.

For once, I’m going to run towards something good, instead of away from the darkness inside me. I cannot wait.

———————————————

AN: And that's all folks! I hope people enjoyed that, even if y'all have never read Hexslinger. If you wanna read the books, I highly recommend them, tho be warned they require trigger warnings for all the stuff here and more. Almost anything that usually needs a trigger warning is in those books. I'm okay with reading it, but I also completely understand others not liking that shit.

In the positives, it's an extremely interesting and complex series dealing with survival, discrimination, identity, the pain that can come with love, and the unlikely bonds formed between people. The world building is amazing and the magic system is super cool. What I love the most are the characters, who are all very interesting and complex. No one is 100% good or evil, they're just people trying to find ways to achieve their goals or simply live. What actions they take are up for moral debate, but a lot of the time they're at least understandable. There's a lot of period typical bigotry, and it's much more vicious than what I wrote here, but what I love is that there a lot of diverse characters who say "fuck that" and fight back against the shit they get. You've got queer, Indigenous, black, latinx, Chinese, and Jewish main characters in a wild west story who are all well rounded and interesting. That's pretty awesome imo.

Okay enough gushing about Hexslinger lol. Hope this story was good. No guarantee when my next fic will be out. Work and school are killer. Until then, see you later!

[twilightofthe]

Chapter Nine liveblog of The Mandalorian Season 2!  Let’s go!!!

Recap time!

Oh shit the ARMORER I MISSED HER even if it’s just her voiceover lol

Y’all I am fucking PUMPED

Oh shit yeah Fennec Shand’s not dead I wonder if she’ll show up again too 

GOD I MISSED THE SOUNDTRAAAAAACK

OOOP OOP OOP OOP OOP HERE WE GO HERE WE GO HERE WE GOOOOOOO

THAT’S MY FUCKING SON AND HUSBAND

THERE THEY ARE

LOOK AT THEM

THEY’RE JUST WALKING AND I’M IN LOVE AGAIN

BABYBABYBABYBABYYYYYYYYYY

HIS WIDDLE FUCKING FACE

OH NO HE’S WHIMPERING

OH BABY YODA GOD HOW I MISSED YOU

YES MR TWI’LEK LET THE CUTE BABY IN

YES LOOK HOW CUTE HE IS

*cinemasins voice* Space wrestling!

Oh yeah it’s those green pig species guys from ROTJ whose names I never remember, Gamoreans?

Wherever I go he goes KILL MEEEEEEEE

Lol bruh looking for other Mandos won’t teach you how to find Jedi, it teaches you to pick fights with ‘em 

HAHAHA THE BABY IS CASUALLY LEARNING MORE VIOLENCE YES I LOVE IT

Heyyy it was Gamorrean!

I feel like I know Cyclops’s voice for some reason

Lol look at Din he has sense

Ohhhh boy fight time

Time to see my husband kick ass

Oh shit shit shiiiiit is there like, a valuable underground trade for beskar and Mandalorians???  SHIIIIIIIIIT

LOL YEP GO HIDE WHILE DADDY WORKS BABY

EPIC GUITAR WAILING NOISES YESSS

ARMOR HUSBAND KICKING ABSOLUTE ASS YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

THAT WAS A FUCKING SASSY HEADBUTT LOOOOOOOOK

HE’S SO AWESOME I’M ;_;

HELL YEAH GET THAT TRAFFICKER BABY

AND CUE THE AWESOME ASS RECORDER THEME

I LOVE ME A MAN WHO NEGOTIATES

Whaaaaaat a Mando on Tatooine?  Good thing my Mando on Tatooine fic is an AU!

Mos Pelgo, huh?  New city!

Pfff it’s been literally less than ten minutes and I’ve already typed THIS much

OHHH SHIIIIIIT HE’S LETTING THE TRAFFICKER GET EATEN ALIVE DAMN SON

BADASS RECORDER NOISES INTENISFY

Oho, “The Marshal”, huh?

WAIT MARSHAL AS IN LIKE “MARSHAL COMMANDER”

ARE WE GETTING FUCKING CLONES?

OH GOD PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

And there’s Peli!!!!!

Holy shit my fic did pretty well predicting that xD

Lol I love her

She is Me

BABYYYYYYYYY

wrinkled critter

Din she doesn’t know what a Mandalorian Armorer means

I LOVE PELI

HOLY SHIT WE’RE GETTING A MAP OF TATOOINE

SHIT I CAN USE THIS

BABY STILL LIKES CAR RIDES

Omg he’s actually sitting with the Tuskens!

TREAT THE TUSKENS LIKE PEOPLE AND NOT UGLY STEREOTYPES 2KFOREVERRRRRRRRRRR

Dang the way he walks tho

(sorry I had to *coughs*)

“Someone who looks like me” pfff Din

Wait hang on a second this “Marshal” isn’t fucking Boba Fett is he he better not

But shit this is on Tatooine it makes sense--

I’M BAD AT MANDO ARMOR IS THAT BOBA IDK I CAN’T TELL IN THE BACKLIGHTING

Ah a blissful stranger.  Not a clone tho, dammit, that would have been nice

He sounds young too, I recognize his voice

WAIT A FUCK THAT IS ABSOLUTELY BOBA FETT’S HELMET I MIGHT BE BAD AT MANDO STUFF BUT I’M FUCKING POSITIVE

oh damn and he just took it off in front of Din The Orthodox Mando WHOOP

Shit I know that guy’s actor who is he

OH NO OH NOPE HE’S NOT EVEN A REAL MANDALORIAN HE’S JUST AN ARMOR THIEF WHO STOLE BOBA’S ARMOR THIS BOI IS GONNA DIE AHAHAHAHA

Ahhh we’re going cowboy movies again

Wait so Boba wears real beskar now?  I thought his wasn’t

Lol yep here we go Din’s goin’ after him now

“He’s seen worse” Din NO, THAT IS HOW YOUR CHILD LEARNS TO STRANGLE PEOPLE FOR ARM WRESTLING

Tatooine’s got earthquakes?

2012 is that you?  Lion King antelope stampede hello

WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT IS THAT A KRAYT DRAGON

I’VE WANTED ONE OF THOSE FOREVER

IT’S AN ALASKAN BULL WORM

No really damn what is that thing lol

Could be a Krayt dragon?  But idk their designs

DIN YOU JUST ABANDONED YOUR CHILD IN A POT MY DUDE WHY

AHAHAHAHAHAHA YESSSSSS A KRAYT FUCKING DRAGON HELL YEAH HELL YEAH FINALLY AFTER FORTY FUCKING YEARS.

Ngl I was hoping it would look a little more stereotypically “dragon-ish” cuz I’ve been entertaining this ridiculous fantasy of Obi Wan befriending one in the Kenobi show and learning how to make the noise

But giant angry sand worm friend is also good!

Din bro careful last time you agreed to hunt something on Tatooine with someone new that dude betrayed you

Ohhhh flashback!

Oh for fuck’s sake why are we adding MORE slavery

Y’all know you can also have literally anything fucking else on Tatooine besides slavery

Gah sorry y’all

Lol Jawas again

And more Wilrow Hood ice cream machines!

Ok but so did the Jawas literally fish this off of Boba’s body, did the Sarlaac shit it out and they found it, or did Boba actually sell it to them?

Oh damn and these ppl probs knew who Boba was too

Oooh dinosaur-hyena thingies

DIN SPEAKS TUSKEN

I LOVE HIM

MARRY ME

Ok but now I REALLY wanna know how Din learned the Tusken traditions

GOOD BOY ALERT!  GOOD BOY!  IT’S A GOOD BOY!  DINOSAUR-HYENA IS A VERY GOOD BOY

TUSKEN CULTURE OH MY GOD I’M LOVING THIS

This is not a time to be a picky eater bruh

Ok there Anakin let’s settle down a bit

DIPLOMACY BY FLAMETHROWER DIN I LOVE YOU

Ok so if you eat a sarlaac does that also technically count as eating two meals since you’re also eating whatever it’s been digesting in its stomach for a thousand years?

Yep Alaskan Bull Worm

OH NO IT SCARED THE BABY :O

Din training a village to fight this thing is a wee bit harder than training them to fight an AT-STsaurus Rex

WHY DON’T WE JUST TAKE THE TOWN AND PUSH IT SOMEWHERE ELSE?

This really is just the stereotypical Western episode but kinder to the natives

Damn

“Are you trying to blow us up?” ooooof they WENT THERE

More teamwork!

“Belly is the weak spot” hey so like Smaug!

Wait a fucking second I wasn’t paying attention did they bring Baby Yoda to where he could possibly get eaten by a dragon again

Oh yeah “dank ferrik” is another SW curse

Wait why are they just standing there and letting the Tuskens get eaten

Gahhh everyone’s being so brave I’m proud of them!!!!! :_:

OH EW FUCKING GROSS GROSS GROSS GROSS

Gah I HATE vomit scenes especially unexpected ones

Sorry that’s like, a super major squick for me

And dammit they didn’t even kill the worm

Oh and now it’s up there and VOMITING AGAIN I HATE THAT

Oh shite that’s acid

Oh please be careful baby

Ok wait wait wait how did the Jawas even salvage Boba’s jetpack enough to make it fly the whole reason Boba got eaten was because the pack broke

Oh and now I’m seeing a bit of Jaws in this too

Bro noooo are you gonna blow up that bantha?

DIN NO YOU RECKLESS-ASS BITCH

B o i

Actually let himself get eaten

Din where are your braincells

Aw Baby nooooooo

Uh oh I sense more vomit

Or not!

Ok bro that was p badass

Ok yeah Marshal is p hot 

There I said it

ASLDKJFSDLKFKL OF COURSE BABY YODA EATS THE RAW DRAGON MEAT

That guy is hoooooooot

“You tell your people I wasn’t the one who broke that” lol yep Han better look out

Huh?  We getting excited over MORE eggs?

Oh goddammit and there is Boba Fett because of course

Knew it was too good to be true

Lol sorry y’all just wasn’t particularly excited to see him

Guess that means he willingly gave up his armor, huh?

BUT ANYWAY THIS WAS A BRILLIANT EPISODE

AND I LOVED IT

AND THE TUSKENS GOT THE RESPECT THEY DESERVED

Ok but it also seems at least Marshal and the rest of the townsfolk had the same backwards view towards the Tuskens as Anakin did, now I REALLY want to see RESPECTFUL discussion on colonialism on Tatooine, I gotta know more about this

Still super excited for the next ep!

Aaaaaaaaa!

[citrineghost]

Humans Are Historically Known for Being Terrible

Hi I’m here with an opinion today. Let’s see how many words it will take for me to adequately get it across on this very fine 15th of January

I personally believe canceling things from the past* is fruitless, pointless, and accomplishes about as much as censorship does

*We aren’t talking about shit like nazi Germany, let me elaborate further

So, as I occasionally do, I have seen a post on my dash today criticizing something historical that people are ‘problematically partaking in.’ That thing today was the wellerman sea shanty due to its ties with colonialism, slavery, and so forth. 

I’m not going to dive into this specific example, because I don’t know enough of the details and am not interested in going to find them out because I’m not planning to defend it or its history, so there’s no point. I learned what I needed to know from said callout post and it’s enough to work with.

To me, it is important that we remember that people, in general, have been historically pretty terrible.

There’s colonialism, there’s slavery (of all kinds, including chattel), there’s thievery, murder, genocide, sexism, the murdering of queers. There’s lying, manipulation, propaganda, and so many more things that I couldn’t possibly list them all. I’m not saying that everyone was equally shitty. I am aware that, especially in the most recent couple hundred years, white people, especially Western Europeans and Americans, have been pretty Shite.

Am I excusing them for their actions? Absolutely not. I think it is always important to bear in mind the way they played a part in cultures’ growth, death, and, ultimately, development from one year to the next.

The reason I’m pointing this out is because the result of people being historically shitty is that most, if not all, of our historical content, our history, is steeped in horse manure. 

There is not one thing you can enjoy from centuries - even decades - passed that is not here because of something inhumane, unjust, or otherwise terrible.

The only thing keeping us from canceling every other historical thing that we enjoy is our lack of awareness of how each thing ties into the whole mess.

So, we’ve learned that wellerman was sung by slavers and thieves and colonialists. What about that nice little folk song from uh, idk, Ireland or something? Let’s take this metaphorical song and ask the question, “who wrote it?” The truth is, for many folk songs, we just don’t know. There is a very very good chance that 90+ percent of nice, soft folk songs about lying in the grass or feeding chickens or baking bread for your spouse were written by racists, sexists, abusers, homophobes, and so forth.

Does that make it wrong to enjoy that song about lying in the grass and looking at the stars? I don’t think so. No one is profiting off of you listening to it, regardless of who wrote it. It’s hundreds of years old. Do you even know the name of who wrote it?

Remembering that times were different may not absolve something of its wrongdoing, but it does provide us context.

We have to allow ourselves to admit that most, if not all, historical things, came from or benefitted from atrocities or injustices that we would not stand for today. That’s just how human progression works. Frankly, if people 200 years from now don’t look at US, CURRENTLY, and think we’re terrible assholes, I am actually very concerned by that. 

The nature of humanity is to get better and better over time and to build a world and a society where we don’t feel the need to be controlled by greed or to consume unethically. The problem is, it takes time. It takes lots and lots of time. Would it take less time if certain people weren’t terrible, terrible people? Yes it would. But they are, and so it doesn’t.

The fact is, human progression and improvement will never reach its end because, as things improve, our perception of our past actions will change as well and we will begin to realize that what we were doing wasn’t acceptable and is no longer necessary nor excusable. 

Hate Jeff Bezos? Look around and see that 90% of people still buy from Amazon, because it provides the only affordable source of many products for people who don’t make enough money under capitalism to buy from a small business.

Hate Bill Gates? How many of us are willing to switch to Linux to quit using Microsoft? Speaking of Microsoft, they own Minecraft. Do we stop playing Minecraft?

Think Steve Jobs is a terrible person? Why are people still buying iphones, ipads, and macs? Why don’t we stop buying those so that he and current CEO, Tim Cook, quit making billions of dollars?

These are just a tiny amount of examples, using big names. We also must consider, if you have 100 books on your bookshelf, how many of the writers of those books are racists, homophobes, sexists, or abusers? I guarantee you it’s a non-zero answer. The thing is, an author who’s relatively nobody is not someone who gets canceled. No one knows anything about them but that they wrote a neat work of fiction and it’s a good book.

The question is, should we be expected to quit buying, consuming, and enjoying things made by problematic people?

In some cases, the answer should be yes. If someone is currently profiting massively from people consuming their media or products and people are ignoring their atrocities, that person could end u making millions or billions of dollars despite being terrible, which is something that undoubtedly affects all of us, economically.

In the other cases, the answer should be, do you want to? If you’re not comfortable with something, you should, of course, stop consuming it. If you can ignore the thing, you might not need to bother. And, that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re excusing it.

If we look at all of humanity, even in the present day, mathematically speaking, 50% of people are more bigoted and terrible than the rest. There’s no other way for it to be. Less than 50% would be a mathematical fallacy. Does that mean we only consume content from the better 50%? Does that mean we rigorously research producers and creators and their personal lives only to decide it’s not worth the risk of ‘contributing’ because they have no trace online except for a private Facebook account? Is them having a Facebook account enough of a ‘sin’ that it’s not worth it to buy their book?

This brings us to the censorship point

If you know your history, you know that censorship is a nasty thing. When one person decides who or what is unethical to consume from, they sometimes seek to get rid of that thing so that no one has a choice - so that no one is Allowed to consume that thing.

This has led to book burning, the destroying of decades and centuries of research about sexuality and gender. It’s destroyed religious texts. It’s destroyed content created by women that painted any single man in a bad light. It’s destroyed progression.

“But I only want to get rid of the bad thing that everyone agrees is bad!”

It doesn’t matter. If you open the door to censorship for yourself, those who wish to use it for worse reasons will become just as justified, in their own eyes, to do the same. You’ll have Christians saying it’s okay to get rid of gay content because it’s objectively wrong according to the bible. You’ll have conservative parents burning books with complicated topics like abuse and assault because they don’t want their children to have access to anything controversial or complex like that.

You cannot open the door to censorship for one group without opening that door for everyone. And that is why we do not censor things.

The question then becomes, but what of the people consuming that media? Even if it’s not censored, consuming it still makes someone bad, right? 

Not necessarily. People consume problematic stuff all the time - things considered objectively bad. However, people don’t always consume said media because they support it being normalized in the real world. For example, fanfiction or books with rape in them may be something a victim reads to cope with their own past or present. A book with abuse depicted may actually make a young teen aware that what they’re going through is abuse. Content largely seen as ‘problematic’ can often play a part in solving the problem it portrays.

Then there’s historical, problematic media. Now, this is an area where I feel things have actually been OVER complicated.

Because everything historical has some tie to injustice, there is no ethical way to consume it. 

There is no ethical consumption under passed time.

So, how do we judge whether something should or shouldn’t be consumed? It is my opinion that something historical should stop being consumed and become shunned when its meaning is well-known enough and its message is still pervasive enough that it is actively causing problems.

For example, we generally try not to consume content when it is made by someone who is a known nazi. This is because nazis are still a problem in our society, presently. We have antisemitism all over the place. Therefore, we cannot let the message become that it is okay to be a nazi by way of us treating nazis like normal people and allowing them to succeed in society without consequence.

However, there are certain problems that are no longer particularly prevalent or which are agreed to be terrible on a large enough scale that consuming the content does not necessarily imply you believe it is okay. For example, if you look at literally any media from the 1800s or which is placed in the 1800s, you will see a lot of casual sexism and gender roles. Should we despise that time period because sexism was readily available at every turn? Should we refuse to enjoy 19th century fashion or culture because it had problems? I think not. I think it would be pointless to refuse to consume, read about, or otherwise engage with the 19th century. It wouldn’t change the past and it isn’t going to somehow undo the progress we’ve made on women’s rights. 

As a matter of fact, if someone merely suggested that perhaps the people of the 19th century were right for forcing women to wear long dresses and darn socks all day, they would be laughed into oblivion and called a shitty, sexist incel (which would be correct).

Does enjoying media from or placed in the 19th century mean you support sexism? I certainly hope not, since I enjoy it very much and know a lot of progressive people, women especially, who do enjoy that kind of thing. It is common sense enough, at this point in time, that people don’t generally believe that the sexism of the 1800s was acceptable. I am not going to see someone watching a period drama and assume they desire for our present-day social laws to be like what’s portrayed. That would be a ridiculous assumption. However, I could not assume the same about someone I saw watching openly antisemitic content. I would quickly wonder if they’re an antisemite/nazi/white supremacist.

So, what about that one thing I heard had a sordid past?

Listen, if we’re being honest here, most things from history have a sordid past. Sea shanties? You bet. But then when we talk of sea shanties being steeped in colonialism, we have to look at the bigger picture. What about pirates? Pirates were, by and large, a huge contributor to slavery, theft, colonialism, and murder. Does that mean enjoying media with pirates is glorifying or contributing to slavery, theft, colonialism, and murder?

(I’m about to talk a lot about pirates but this can be applied to anything that was historically bad but is no longer prevalent)

Pirates of the Caribbean is only a movie, but pirates did once exist and they did kill people. They did raid ships of merchants and tradesmen and they killed them and stole their goods. They took many good men from their families and even killed working children aboard the ships. Does that make enjoying pirates in media a contributor to these things? No. It doesn’t. We are looking at a dramatised, cleaned up version of the original piracy. I think most people are aware that pirates, in the real world, are bad and harmful and should not be supported. That doesn’t make pirate media any less fun in theory, and under our own terms.

Then we arrive at our perception - because most of this does come down to perception. When you watch pirate media, should you enjoy that, are you able to divorce yourself from their actual history enough to enjoy the media? If you can, you might enjoy it a lot. If you can’t watch a movie about pirates without thinking the entire time about how terrible they were and how much damage they did, then pirate media just isn’t right for you. But, it doesn’t mean you should attempt to take it away from others. Your opinion and perception of pirate media is not the global perception.

I have to ask, do you think others view it the same way you do?

When you read that question, you may be wondering what exactly I mean. What I’m asking is, do you believe others view that media with the same “clarity” that you do? Do you believe they understand the atrocity of real pirates and Feel that the entire time they watch the media and still enjoy it anyway?

Perhaps that’s why your response to someone enjoying something you feel guilty partaking in is, “these people all must not care about the real-world damage pirates did. The fact that they can watch this (despite sitting here and feeling the same things I do) makes me sick.”

However, if that is the case, you must remember that for a lot of people, the awareness of real world consequence is suspended during dramatised depictions of it. It doesn’t mean they have forgotten about the real-world consequences of piracy or that they don’t know it at all. It just means they are choosing not to think about it in that light while consuming media.

There is also the assumption that people must not know about something when partaking in it. You may think, “How can they enjoy this media? They wouldn’t be able to stomach it if they realized what really happened with pirates.”

In many instances, you would be correct. A lot of people are ignorant to what pirates have done in the real world. If you told every ignorant person the truth, maybe 5% of them would then become turned off by pirate media, and the other 95% would keep the truth in mind and then divorce themselves from it to continue enjoying said media.

There are realities that it is safe to divorce yourself from, and there are those that are not.

Is allowing yourself to enjoy dramatizations of pirates making you ignorant to present day conditions? Not largely. There are still pirates today, but not nearly enough for the average Joe to need to take them seriously. Those who need to know about them and do something to stop them are aware.

However, it is not safe to divorce yourself from, for instance, the holocaust. Divorcing yourself from the holocaust and seeing it as merely a dramatic setting with dramatic events and not a present-day real-world problem is exactly the kind of thing that leads to young teens being sucked in by white supremacy and naziism as well as what leads to many average conservatives believing the rise in white supremacy isn’t actually real or is not a big deal. They have distanced themselves so far from the real-world atrocity of the holocaust that they have forgotten it was real and that real people, like them, were contributors. They don’t want to believe that everyday people had any power in it and that it was tiny acts of willful ignorance that made concentration camps so successful. 

All in all, there is a different answer for everything we consume.

Want to know if something you’re consuming is okay to consume? Ask yourself: is this produced by someone who is contributing to present-day conditions? If the answer is yes, quit consuming it. If the answer is no, ask yourself, does this media make me uncomfortable because I’m aware of its roots? If the answer is yes, stop consuming it. If the answer is no, it’s probably fine. You are most likely not doing any damage, so long as you are aware of what is wrong with the content and are not using it as grounds to perpetuate harm. 

If, when thinking about something problematic in an old piece of media, you cringe? You’re on the right track. If you feel inclined to make excuses for it or justify the wrong in it, it’s time to step away and reevaluate why you feel the need to do so. If you’re doing so because you feel guilty for consuming it, you need to realize that it is actually more harmful to make excuses for the wrong in order to justify your consumption than it is to admit, “Yeah, this media is problematic and contains a lot of sexism, but I still enjoy it for its other qualities.” It is better to admit that you enjoy something problematic than to spread the message that what is happening in it is okay.

Some of you may be thinking, “Or, just stop consuming problematic media.”

I think in many cases, especially recent media, where your consumption has an effect on production, this is true. However, for media that is no longer being produced, I will remind you that most things have something wrong with them - yes, even pretty recent stuff.

Supernatural kills off women constantly, queerbaited the fuck out of its viewers, and sent a huge character to fucking mega hell for confessing his love.

Scrubs has no end to its sexism, transphobic and homophobic slur usage, and other problematic content.

V for Vendetta glorifies and shines a heroic light on a character who kidnaps and tortures a woman for what appeared to have been weeks or months so that she would be forced to understand his trauma and “no longer be afraid.”

Star Wars has incest, the producers/directors abused Carrie Fisher and sexualized her as a young teen, and probably a lot more that I’m not aware of because I haven’t seen the movies nor read the books.

I don’t even need to start on shows like Breaking Bad, Game of Thrones, Community, That 70s Show, and so many more. Almost every popular piece of media has something worth canceling in it. There is no point trying to curate your media consumption to only unproblematic content, because it simply can’t be done.

Curate where it makes a difference. Sigh heavily the rest of the time. Make yourself aware what and how things are problematic. Put critical thought into how your consumption is capable of supporting or perpetuating a problem and how it is not. Make informed decisions.

Do not feel guilty if you are unable to flawlessly live up to the standards of purity culture. None of us can - not really.

[sweetescapeartist]

MY VIEWS OF BLACK & LGBTQ STUFF

If you don't care about this stuff, skip over it. I don't like talking about this often but at times I speak about it. I'd rather talk about anime & DBZ, but this is one of those times I don't.

I at times speak on stuff that ppl may consider political. I see it as logical or historical. First is...

LGBTQ

I honestly think its too confusing and I don't have time to try to keep up with all the terms and definitions because I don't care that much. It was supposed to be about unity but all it has done is caused more division because there are too many labels. How many sexual preferences and identities are there? Idk but there's more than the amount of fingers I have.

I don't hate ppl who are part of it because only an idiot hates ppl. Besides, I have relatives that are gay or lesbian. I simply disagree with the act for my own personal reasons. Some of it has to do with being a black man. That leads into racial relationships.

BLACK (& other "races")

Most ppl say racist things out of ignorance or because they like to purposefully be ignorant. I'm multi-racial, so I respect all "races" especially since race is truly just a construct that doesn't actually exist because we are of the human race/species. Do animals divide by race or is it only ppl who do that to take advantage of another person?

And I may be "multi-racial" but I have the appearance of a black man, thus I am black to society. Despite that I have European and Native American ancestry. Think about Latinos. Aren't they just ppl with South American Indian ancestry? The Americas were the land of the natives, so all of the descendants currently are of Native American ancestry. Why is race there to divide?

I choose to learn and not be ignorant and let society tell me what to think about race or sexuality. Their standards change all the time and society will give ppl the illusion of change to shut them up.

Now my thoughts about LGBT in the black community... I don't like the action because I'm straight, BUT I ain't gonna treat others with hate. Naturally, humans have a need to reproduce. There's nothing wrong with being straight because if straight ppl did not exist, there would be no lesbian or gay ppl. We would all die out. Now back to the black community...

Do your reseach of the effect homosexuality has had on black ppl throughout history. Slaves in the Americas specifically (& other places too) were "buckbroken." Don't know what that is?

BUCKBREAKING

Imagine your child is being beaten up by adults or being sold off and you are restrained and forced to watch. Imagine your wife or mother or sister or daughter or son or brother or father or even you yourself are raped in front of everyone by a man or group of men & they humiliate you (or your loved ones) over and over.

Buck - blacks weren't viewed as human & dehumanized.

Breaking - break the will & spirit of the strong with inhumane tactics.

All of this is to break your will power so you don't fight back for your freedom. If you fight back, you will be publicly raped, beaten, sold away from your family, limbs amputated, murdered, eaten by slave owners, and other kinds of torture.

There were many gays involved in slavery & even a trans-woman slave owner increased slavery in the U.S. All of this plus more is ignored. Why don't the LGBTQ community address and try to solve these traumatic issues that still affect the black community today? Because they don't care to fix it OR they are not told about it. (Not every individuals, but the group as a whole. I ain't a fan of groups.)

Even the rainbow flag was used by black ppl first. The Rainbow Coalition. Uniting ppl of all colors to stop oppression. Then the leaders were assassinated by the government, the Rainbow Coalition was sued, then the rainbow flag was adopted as the gay pride flag (a.k.a. the LGBTQ pride flag in current day).

CONCLUSION

I can't side with any group of ppl that disrespects the group I am a part of. I respect individuals who show they are deserving of respect & I don't promote hate. Why treat ppl the same or worse than I & my people have been treated? That's stupid to do so & shows that a person has fears of the other person being better than them, so they attack them. I fear no man. Each individual is better than each other in some sort of way. That's what makes ppl unique. Fearing & hating a group of ppl is just silly to me. Ppl change so I won't hate a person.

I like to know things so history doesn't repeat itself with me. Being informed is very important. Otherwise, you're following someone blindly & you don't even know who you're following. THAT sounds foolish to me.