#there will always be 2-3 people on the twits or here

[getvalentined]

Thinking about finally throwing all my FF7 meta analysis and lore deep dive stuff onto a sideblog. It'd be reblogged from here, but I'd be able to organize it a little better, have a directory so people could find things more easily, and maybe it'd stop people from regurgitating things I say word-for-word for brownie points when they can just find and reblog the fucking original post(s).

[werewolf-cuddles]

"activism is when you get mad at people for reading a 26 year old book series because the author sucks big time"

That's the most annoying part about it (Next to the fact that Rowling won't shut the fuck up) is that she wasn't always like that. She didn't get that way until long after the book series was done but people act as if it was secretly the Terf equivalent of Mein Kampf this whole time and nobody realized it until recently.

And the shit with "nyehh but muh transphobia was there too" annoys me because 1. Citation needed 2. Deathly Hollows was like 2009, like right before Trans activism was mainstream, even assuming that the evidence presented isn't crying wolf, how much more (key word here) deliberately Transphobic could it possibly be compared to what Rowling's screeching on twitter right now? 3. Even if it is, at some point we as a community need to just accept that things made before the new tens are gonna have problematic shit in it but that doesn't outweigh the good parts and shaming people for liking those good parts (especially Trans people) isn't doing anyone any favors and accomplishes nothing except making you look like a dick. and 4. assuming the evidence isn't a reach, how much of it is general transphobia versus the very specific strain of TERFism that she practices now? Because there IS a difference.

It really just feels like most of the hate train against not Rowling but Harry Potter as a whole, and this insistence that anyone who bought the new material and is blissfully unaware of JKR being radicalized into a bigoted twit is somehow just as much of a bigot as her, is near exclusively generated by people who were never fans/hated Harry Potter the whole time or were Zoomers who were too young to remember when it was popular and just latched onto a golden opportunity to just be cunts to anyone who's ever been a Harry Potter fan and feel good about themselves for it, as if we're all just monsters who aren't lamenting Rowling's decisions and statements because of how betrayed we feel by her. Like fuck, I'm pretty much never buying anything HP related again and I'm gonna love and enjoy the original Books/Movies in my own little corner not giving a fuck about Fantastic Beasts or any of that shit, leave me alone.

Like, yeah, there's some stuff in the books, particularly the way Rita Skeeter is described in the fourth one, that has not aged well, and is kinda uncomfortable in hindsight.

But let's be honest here, revising history and declaring that Rowling was always a hardcore TERF and we were just too blind to see it is little more than a defense mechanism to not have to acknowledge the part we played in it.

Dumbledore being declared as gay after the book series ended was seen as a very progressive move in 2007, but that perception had largely changed by the late 2010s, and Rowling's more progressive supporters had been gradually turning against her for years before she went full TERF. She was in the perfect position to be radicalized.

This is not meant to be a defense of J.K. Rowling or her current views. I'm just stating a harsh truth here. We didn't directly cause her descent into "gender critical" ideology, but we damn well contributed to it, whether we want to admit it or not.

[martini-time]

1st of all, i ❤️ ur blog

now, people here talk about layla being way too controlling over noel (i agree), but let's talk a bit about cameron being weirdly stalkerish when it comes to noel. a few examples: #1) the boys used to tweet (remember? happy times), and sometimes their tweets were 1-2 minutes apart. at first you might think "coincidence for sure". but in time you learn that with cameron nothing is EVER a coincidence. and in most cases it was cameron who twitted/liked right after noel posted. same with instagram, he sometimes liked noel's posts within a few minutes. which means he got notifications specifically for noel's social media activity. #2) his infamous instagram mosher post. he copied it from shamelesstea acc on twitter. so he probably found it by his name tag, big deal, right? but there was also noel's name tag. so he found this tweet, saw his name next to noel's and decided to check? professional interest? now, imagine if he searched through noel's tag ON PURPOSE? it might seem far-fetched, but then... #3) after noel announced Castle Rock, cameron immediately followed both Bill Skarsgard and Jane Levy (whom he unfollowed when she left shameless, but re-followed again bc apparently noel's future co-star). Then when noel announced Fonzo movie, cam immediately followed Tom Hardy (and liked noel's pic the minute tom posted it 😄 so subtle). Not to mention cam followed a photographer who did noel's photoshoot in 2019 (i guess? or 2020, honestly don't remember) right after he posted said photoshoot. So cameron stalked him, for real. Now, some of you would probably be like "how cute, he must've been into him" or something, but i find it really disturbing. It's one thing when your wife gets jealous and insecure, i get it. but cam had no reason to be like this rather than just being a creep? he stalked his girlfriends like that too. But noel is not his gf or bf or anything, they're not even good friends, more like just good colleagues. And i don't believe in mosher, but if cameron was in some way attracted to noel, it doesn't make it any less creepy and unhealthy. Even more, on the contrary. What do you think?

Well.. you know, when I started this blog, I believed in Mosher. I'm not sure I believe in them now. I mean, I can support some theories or something, but now I'm not here to point out some moments and convince people to agree with me.

About tweets and posts. As far as I remember, it wasn't always Cam who posted right after Noel. Sometimes it was Noel who posted something right after Cam.

As for his Mosher post. Before that, he had already written that he could not be with Noel just because he knows a couple women who wouldn't be very pleased with that. And in the post he said don't let the fact that you're married get between us.

So.. Would a good colleague write like that? It seemed that it was the fact that Noel had a wife that made the problem.

I always thought he made that post because at that moment he was dating Peyton and could have made that post without it being considered too gay. Cam has always been impulsive and emotional on sm.

And yes, you're right, he followed those colleagues of Noel's. It was obvious, but again, why would he follow them? As far as I remember, someone thought that he was jealous of Noel's talent. I thought he really wanted to know what Noel was doing and thought to see more content with him on the pages of his colleagues.

But all this does not negate the fact that he stalked and we know that he really does that. The only question is for what purpose he did it.

If he missed Noel and was really in love, I'll say it's sad.

If someone thinks otherwise, you can share your opinion.

Oh and thank you for loving my blog ❤️

[majycka]

A deranged ("and not totally delusional") analysis of Gojo’s type ft. visuals from yours truly, my shipper braincells

Ok one thing that’s apparent here it’s most likely they are Waka Inoue, Geto, aaaaaannnnnd Utahime.

First off, let’s analyze these given people in a three way diagram.

Now that’s established, let’s zoom in between two people.

1. Geto and Utahime.

SIMILARITIES ARE BLARING RIGHT AT YAAAA FACEEE. Traditional Clothing. Half tied long dark hair. (There’s the facial scar if u consider Getwo). More to that, there’s PERSONAL TRAITS AS WELL.

THIS PANEL RIGHT HERE! and as said by the JJK wiki

After defeating Yuta's classmates, Suguru cried and expressed the joy he felt seeing young sorcerers work together to protect one another. With a crazed smile, Suguru cried out and stated it was the type of world he longed for.

And you know who else values teamwork??

Kyoto Tech with even a whole ass arc to showcase that which is probably influenced by none other than their teacher, Utahime Iori.

Yes, Uta and Geto aren’t EXACTLY alike with their ideology as Geto falls more in the unhinged side of things. Buttt aside from that, there’s the uniquely butting head dynamic of Gojo with them, and also he ABSOLUTELY trusts them.

2. Waka and Utahime

Model Waka Inoue and utahime actually have the same hobbies and interests (drinking beer, singing, sports!!!) (Shout out for this twit thread for this research! all evidence are there as well which came from a translated version of Waka Inoue’s Japan Wikipedia)

Also some of their name kanjis share the same ones for Waka poetry(a Japanese poem type)

and in that poetry, they used this punctuation called “Ioriten” (HMMM IORI LIKE AS IS THE UTAHIME IORI!!) and it’s used to mark the start of a song (UTAHIME’S CT YOU ALL) That manga panel revealed that gojo change into that wallpaper in 2006 which could mean that uta’s 20 y/o, legal to drink alcohol in japan. By then, It be might that Gojo found out she likes beer that much.

3. Waka and Geto

Ngl, dont really much to say here but Geto is the one who pointed out the wallpaper change and thats already a GUARANTEED connection there.

And to answer the mystery box, Gojo’s relationships with them hold superficiality in varying degrees.

Obviously, Waka Inoue is that silly ol' celeb crush of teen hormoned Gojo. What couldn’t get more superficial than that!

For Geto’s case, Gojo wasn’t really able stop Geto from going into unhinged path cuz he was too busy being The Strongest and all, but still Gojo did try and he noticed. It wasn't completely Gojo’s fault though as it was Geto’s ideology that he held closely. Yeah, sure, they are close and comfortable with each other but at the same time, his BFF couldn’t really understand him as it’s established before that they butt heads over it. (Strong people protecting the weak, jujutsu sorcerer protecting non-sorcerers)

Next, Utahime and right off the bat, she hates Gojo! cuz there’s Gojo ALWAYS riling/teasing her up, so they're not necessarily close to each other. Before his big talk of blechhhh of helping the weak, this panel came up which is interesting. (hmmmm I smell future character development in here).

But more than a decade later, he came to be self aware of his nature of not understanding the weak (aka his blindspot), so it’s no wonder he kept working with Utahime and heavily trusts her since like a part of him came to realize that maybe with her perspective (due to Uta’s lower power and sympathetic nature) he could stop another Geto-like case happening in the next gen jujutsu sorcerers.

OR in other words, Gojo is an emotionally constipated bastard and falls for compassionate people.

[feral-possum-posting]

Tl;Dr at the end.

So I'm a dev at a FAANG, whatever that is worth to you. Nothing special I hope, aside from what authority it might lend me on this topic. Unless you're a manager who wants to hire me in... A few years I guess? For a 100% raise? Anyway, more importantly, I've worked on large teams embedded in larger orgs.

I'm marveling at Twitter right now. You have to understand, there *is* bloat in stuff like microservices, but those cuts a few days back almost certainly slashed something that was already critical. Best case scenario, those teams lied to him about turning down a service. Somewhat better case, they could band aid two services into one. Worst case, something more than 2FA but more subtle was wiped.

That's all last shit though. By some accounts, entire products are just living on autopilot without a team right now. I'm not a twitter dev, but let me answer some points I've seen from an industry perspective.

1. Wasn't all that core code already written?

Yeah, for some function of written. Enterprise development isn't like a video game or OS, that gets written for N years, and rolled out to you in a (theoretically) stable state with only patches coming in thereafter. It's incomplete, and inefficient. The half finished parts are held up with planks and duct tape, and inefficiencies are in someone's backlog as tech debt.

That gets fixed, and business needs shift, and something new gets added that's incomplete and inefficient. Nowadays, this is called "agile", and it's honestly not as bad as I make it sound here. The whole point is getting new changes out fast, and being adaptable enough that can stop what you're doing to address a big problem. Not just self-inflicted ones either, but like if a big regulation sweeps through twitter and forces a big change in how your services have to work.

2. Well, it's still running now without someone, so it's clearly fine.

That nothing catastrophic has happened yet is marvelous, like I said. Despite his best efforts, Musk's ex-employees probably put some serious mitigation in place for nothing to catch fire yet.

Why though? In part it's like point 1: everything is at least a little bit broken. Yeah, sometimes that's self-inflicted. But also, shit just happens sometimes. A network call fails maybe. A one-in-a-million trigger of a race condition. A curious outside wiggling levers in the wrong direction. Whatever. This shit is literally always happening. Plenty of automatic mitigation is in place, but it's never foolproof.

If it happens 1:100 days per team, and you have 100 teams, on average that's 1 team a night who needs a manual hand to come in and flip a switch. That's to say nothing of catastrophies that happen in an actually staffed team.

3. Whatever, he can just hire new people

That's not how this works.

Step one, you gotta find people to do the work. I won't delude myself that he has 0 potential hires. But the thousands of people he fired? Yeah, literally just hiring that many people is months even when you *didn't* just put out an email about working 80 hour weeks for 40 hour pay.

But it isn't just that.

The oft-quoted number is that takes 6 months to go from new-hire to productive. Personally, I'd place things at like 9 months, and 6 months is the "feeling more comfortable" period.

4. Twitter devs were hardly working. Only 20% of the workforce was doing 80% of the work.

Tell me you've never been a developer without...

Okay, to start, I'm doubting these numbers. But fine. That extra 20% of work is still fucking critical. Put that on your top devs, and you'll lose them to annoyance immediately, or burnout in 2 months.

And, on the, uhm, "chance" one of these unicorn 20% devs left for greener pastures? And then on the "chance" that Twit fills that position with an identically skilled dev? Yeah, that's 6 months of ramp time babe. They're unicorns, I guess, let's say 1.5 months.

In summary

Something has to break. It's a marvel that nothing has broken yet honestly. That's... I mean that's just how this works y'all. The dev teams that fix it have left. And hiring someone new to fix it, in an absolute best case scenario, would be like 1.5 months of learning before they could do fuck all about a break.

[latida-poofta]

An Open Letter to Vampire Romance Authors

Dear Vampire Romance Writers,

I have something that I need to get off my chest. I am utterly baffled by the sheer quantity of unrepentant Confederate vampires (specifically unrepentant about the owing human beings as chattel slaves), that are the main love interest. The presence of Confederate vampires does not bother me. It is easy and familiar to set your urban fantasy in the US, and the Civil War is a significant milestone in the history of the US. The US is still grappling with the legacy left by the Civil War. However, do these slave-owning pieces of human garbage NEED to be the love interest? Personally, I find that they would make FAR more interesting villains, especially, if the heroine is a POC. Think of the conflict caused by a villain who doesn't even see the protagonist as a full human. Imagine the terrible things they would do and not feel and ounce of remorse. You could make them an allegory about institutionalized racism in American society. But no, we have to have our Wonder-bread heroine kiss our Confederate vampire, because Jasper from Twilight was hot! I am not just here to bash on you vampire fantasies (not exclusively anyway). I would like to present a handful of alternative scenarios all from the 1800's. (I get it Victorians are sexy, or at least romantic.)

1. If the vampire love interest MUST be carrying a dark past, make him Victorian doctor. Worse (or better, if you like your dark past like you like your coffee (black)) make him doctor who "treats" (*cough* more like maltreats *cough*) the mentally ill. Bonus points if they are a doctor in the modern day. LOTS of angst!

2. Make the vampire love interest a former Union soldier. Was he a willing recruit? Was he conscripted? Did he ever care about the cause? All interesting things to explore with out him outright OWNING PEOPLE. 3. If the vampire love interest MUST be a Confederate garbage person, make him show remorse for his past deeds. Make it one of those secrets that pop up in the second half of the book that threatens to tear the couple apart. Make him actively use the butt-load of money that vampires ALWAYS have to help the people that they used to exploit.

These are just a handful alternatives. There is a more of a general theme that I believe needs to be explored more: shame.

As you lay down to sleep, does EVERY embarrassing thing you ever did as a kid come back to haunt you? Every dumb thing you said, every stupid thing you did to impress someone, haunting you and making wish to die of shame and embarrassment. Now imagine you have lived for a couple hundred years. Imagine all the stupid things people used to believe in then, compared to now.

"Here have some heroine for that nasty toothache!"

"Yep, you definitely have ghosts in your bones."

"That guy in New York DEFINITELY took a picture of a ghost."

Now imagine your doctor vampire love interest going to sleep, thinking to themselves: "I didn't know shit back then. I could have ACTUALLY HELPED PEOPLE. Instead I just got them addicted to heroine or just tortured them. I was just a nicely dress twit carrying a bottle of formaldehyde. Who in their right mind let me anywhere NEAR infirm? Ah, yes. Other nicely dressed twits with formaldehyde."

That is just the one for the doctor, I'll allow you think up other intrusive memories for your vampire love interest. I do apologize if this came off as mean. I say this because I love vampire fiction! I want it to be better than just ripping off Stephanie Myer or the TV version of the Vampire Diaries (THEY WERE ITALIAN!! Yes I WILL die mad about it!). One of my favorite vampires is Louis Point du' Lac, a slave-owner in the 1800's! The difference is that we see Louis grow after becoming a vampire seeing EVERYONE as potential blood sacks (we are still talking about blood-sucking creatures of the night, here), and that his racism was stupid and based on nothing but prejudice.

I hope that some of my suggestions were helpful or at least mildly interesting. Feel free to adapt or use them in your own works.

TL:DR: unrepentant Confederate vampires are lazy and writers need to add bedtime intrusive memories to vampire love interests.

Happy writing!

Sincerely,

Someone Who Wrote This Instead of Sleeping.

[the-firebird69]

I'm a huge number of things happening and we have to get certain things done here. I'll tell you what the max was starting to fire these people a lot faster those are bases are going overseas in here

-another 4 ft and 3 ft came out of the harbor and the river that was last night and this morning high tide was at 6:18 a.m. and we're to low tide around 7:30 a.m. another 2 ft was blown out of the harbor and one and a half of the river and really there's only like three or four feet left in the harbor and 3 ft left in the river it's going to be cleared out in the next couple high times and the canals are down to like 6 in and a couple more clean outs and they'll be it'll all be gone they're much deeper now the canals are about 12 ft deep and you'll see sailboats being put in and people are going to be boating cuz I couldn't before are there intakes for always getting clogged. And right now they're checking the whole canal there's some areas where it's built up and they are blowing it out of there with water pressure and even a small hose works after a while it takes like 10 hours but they fill it up from underneath and poof the whole thing goes and it's going to be coming down all day today

-there's still some debris in there and they're once in a while they pull it out and by the end of the week it'll be clear for the most part we're going to publish

Thor Freya those are important publishing

Olympus

You'll get them going on other stuff other than my husband focusing on bothering us little twits

Hera

We did use it pretty good we use whatever is left and soak it all up

Zues

[sarah-aliterarylife]

9 Books I Loved As A Child

A super quick post for a Friday!

Here are a few books I loved during my childhood :

The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle.

A picture book originally published in 1969, The Very Hungry Caterpillar is the story of a caterpillar who eats a lot of food!

I loved this book, and it may have contributed to the fact that I now spend about 50% of my day thinking about eating. Of course, as a child I didn’t pick up on the subtle healthy eating messages it contains! (the caterpillar munches his way through lettuce and other vegetables with no issues, while sugary foods give him a stomachache) I still get peckish whenever I see it in a bookshop!

2. Peace At Last by Jill Murphy.

“The hour was late and Mr. Bear was tired. But he could not sleep – however he tried and wherever he tried.” I was obsessed with the tale of Mr. Bear trying to find a comfortable place to sleep, and lost count of the amount of times it was borrowed from our local library. I came across it again a few years ago on a holiday to Devon, sitting in a cupboard. Naturally, I couldn’t resist a quick re-read!

3. Each Peach Pear Plum by Janet and Allan Ahlberg.

More food!!

4. Fantastic Mr. Fox by Roald Dahl

I read most of Roald Dahl’s books as a child, but this was my first love. I am reliably informed that as a little girl, this was my bedtime story of choice every night for a long time! In fact, I love it so much that, one long day during the first UK lockdown (when you might say I had some time on my hands) I sat down with a cup of tea and re-read it from cover to cover. And I fell in love with it all over again.

5. The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter

I’m a big Beatrix Potter fan, but Peter Rabbit was my favorite, closely followed by The Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies. It has everything a children’s book should have – an intrepid hero, a fearsome villian, a moral (you should always listen your parents), not to mention a cat that gets locked inside a greenhouse! Last year I was lucky enough to visit Hill Top, Beatrix Potter’s home in the Lake District, and it was a magical day that reminded me of the simple power of her books and how much they still enthrall children and adults alike today.

6. The Twits by Roald Dahl

Sorry Tim Burton, I don’t think you’ll be making a film of this one any time soon. Mr and Mrs Twit are a spiteful, unkempt old couple who play the most vile practical jokes on each other. I re-read this book as a child many times, but as an adult I really can’t remember why I loved it so much, as they really are horrible to each other! From a glass eye in a mug of beer, to a truly disgusting serving of Spaghetti Bolognese, I’m amazed that in our modern world, certain well- meaning people haven’t lobbied to have it banned.

7. The Mallory Towers series by Enid Blyton

I am aware that there are controversies surrounding the novels of Enid Blyton. However, the Mallory Towers series is considered wholesome enough for the BBC to make it into a successful television series, and that’s good enough for me! The 6-book series is set at a girl’s boarding school in Cornwall, and stars Darrell Rivers, who joins the school in the first novel and eventually becomes Head Girl in the final book. Darrell and her friends partake in all manner of post-war girl’s school fun, including midnight feasts, lacrosse, a pantomime, and trying not to fall foul of their housemistress Miss Potts!

8. The Sweet Valley High / Sweet Valley University series by Francine Pascal

Good Lord. This one is a definite step onwards from Enid Blyton! For a short time in the mid-90s, I was slightly obsessed with the Sweet Valley High series. It appealed to the same part of me that also loved Neighbours and Home and Away. The Wakefield twins and their scandalous (for 1997) antics enthralled me. I laughed out loud when I reminded myself of some of the plotlines!

For instance : Elizabeth Wakefield was almost murdered by her boss, stalked by a doppelganger (who turned out to have a twin who was also a psychopath), and was held hostage by a man with a bomb. And she was the sensible one! Jessica Wakefield on the other hand, dated a werewolf (take that, Bella Swan!), joined a cult, and eloped during college with a man who was violent towards her.

Riveting stuff, when you’re 14.

9. Sophie’s World by Jostein Gaardner

Philosophy for a teenage audience. Sophie Amundsen is a Norwegian teenager who is introduced to the history of philosophy by an unknown author, who sends her letters on the work of individual philosophers and the Big Questions. We begin with the question “Who are you?” and the novel progresses from there. This novel fed into my early interest in philosophy, and my decision to study philosophy at A level. Sadly, that didn’t last. I hated every second, and dropped the subject after one year. Philosophy remains the only school subject I was ever truly bad at. I don’t think my brain is wired that way! I actually re-read this book in full a few years ago. It blew my 30-something mind, so goodness only knows what it did to me at 15!

Which books did you enjoy as a child?

If you're enjoying these posts, please visit my website - A Literary Life – A journey through the books of my life. (wordpress.com)

Or you can follow me on Instagram :

Sarah Mears (@sarah_a_literary_life) • Instagram photos and videos

I'd love to connect with you!

[buytwitt3rlikes]

Rise Your Twitter Get through to With These Simple Tactics

followers panel

As a marketing sales channel, Twitter’s no longer non-compulsory. Everyone’s using it, therefore you need to be too.

Nonetheless because everyone’s deploying it, you can get lost inside the crowd. It’s really difficult to make an impact.

likes panel

To get to stand out is planned to be really good at Twitting. Your tweets must be A+. Or even A++++:

Outstanding content can be more likely to be retweeted, increasing your reach together with audience.

Your best choice for increasing Bebo reach is to have more of them, and the fastest way to do that is to publish better content.

To aid you, we’ve put together 8-10 quick tips that’ll make your twitter updates more twitt-ilating.

one Know your target market

Hint: It’s not really everyone.

You want a tweets to hit house with the right consumers, so you’d much better know what those people prefer.

Brittany Berger submitted all about the benefits of cultural listening. She shows it lets you:

Find what your customers really think Re-evaluate your brand’s skills and weaknesses Add to hard data by using genuine opinions Obtain customers’ views from your competitors Find cutting edge campaign ideas

Concentrate on specific keywords and additionally hashtags that meet your ideal vendor. See what they’re talking about and renovate your content strategy appropriately.

2 . Talk with a person's followers, not from them

Buffer’s Kevan Lee says you should know the difference relating to “voice” and “tone“. Think of voice like your brand’s temperament - a major part of its identification - and shade as your brand’s mood from day after day. As they explain that:

“Voice is a mandate statement. Tone will be the application of that task. ”

Voice doesn’t change - this is one way you want your type to be represented, at all times. But tone adjustments with context.

Moreover, you may can’t always be promoting.

Twitter is a massive chat room. Many people are there for discussion, jokes, or schooling. And you can’t dedicate all your time revealing yourself.

Here are some strategies to help you balance marketing with other subject material:

The 80/20 concept: 20% of your information can be promotional, however , 80% of your subject matter should be interesting in addition to engaging to your customers. The 5-3-2 rate: Five relevant types from others, two non-promotional from anyone, then two advertising posts. The 4-1-1 rule: Four portions from others - plus one retweet - for every publicize tweet you dispatch.

Focus on offering price to your followers - that’s what issues. Choose a ratio generates sense to you, along with try to keep to the application.

Use focused hashtags

Hashtags tend to be Twitter’s way of bundling information together by way of keyword.

People pursuing hashtags are interested during that content. If your material suits one, you’ll reach an target audience that’s keen to have interaction with it.

If you want to make the most of hashtags, check out Danielle Prager’s hashtag recommendations. Some of her critical tips are:

Do not use more than some hashtags per posting. Keep them shorter. #LongStringsOfWordsAreAnnoying. The more real, the better. Make them simple remember and effortless spell. If you’re creating a campaign hashtag, be original.

Ultimately, a word from warning: don’t try and piggyback on inconsequential hashtags; you’ll appear foolish.

Find out when to twitter update

Twitter is time-sensitive.

Even with Twitter’s completely new algorithm, only the start of the user’s steady flow is affected.

Along with it’s optional. This means you’re still counting largely on timing to get your content experienced.

Add calls-to-action

You want engaged disciples.

Every retweet is definitely opportunity to reach an entire new audience.

However , people don’t engage a piece of content due to the fact they feel like this. Tell them what you need from their store.

[jellyfishloveletterghosts]

1. Why is the word nuzzle so fucking adorable

2. Roommates with Stripper Billy is ICONIC

3. You make me happy whenever you cross my dash, just thought I should let you know 🥰💖

I don't know but it is right? I occasionally use it in fics and it's just like a worm feeling kind of word. I immediately went and bugged my cat after rebloging this, got a few nuzzles before he decided he had enough and hissed at me.

Alright is this a suggesting or did you mean the porn star Billy one? I don't have a stripper Billy, man would drive Steve insane though. He wears tiny hot pants and tearaway clothes. They catch on anything and suddenly Billy is at least half naked. He rarely wears anything under them around the house. Always covered in glitter or oil and Steve fusses because just once he would like to wear something that doesn't have glitter on it. Also it's distracting between the glitter and the nipple rings Steve has trouble not staring, Billy's abs and his dick swinging freely under his loose pants.

Billy 100% does it on purpose just trying to drive Steve into snapping because he of course has a huge crush on Steve, who is oblivious to that, he thinks Billy honestly just wants someone to practice his new routine on. Steve flushing and running away when he pops a boner. Billy just following after him his dick hard and barely contained under the tiny shorts he is wearing. Yelling through the bathroom door "Stop being embarrassed you twit I know you like me, I wanted you to get a boner, come out here and let me touch your dick!"

Steve is so pissy that Billy knew and didn't just fucking tell him he liked him and Billy just rolls his eyes and kisses him mid rant to shut him up.

Awe thank you so much babe, it's honestly so nice to hear, with interaction on fics dwindling even lower because of the holiday season on top of peoples general loss of interest, it can feel really shit. Thank you you're very sweet 💜🥺💜🥺💜

[tundrainafrica]

Hi, i saw some time ago you compared Royai to Levihan, would you mind elaborating more on their similarities? I ship both and looking at they compared blow my mind

YES. Beautiful ask anon! As always, sorry for only getting into this now, my inbox is still a mess I am currently trying to make sense of. But legit, I could talk about this for hours. Cause I’m that fucking simp who just randomly goes on Youtube and watches the Riza breakdown vs. Lust  scene just to see some GREATTT acting and some great crumbs. 

So anyway, will be moving on now to this really long and--mind you--uncurated rant. 

Disclaimer though: Although I have watched all the fullmetal stuff, from the first anime, to brotherhood to the manga and have lurked in the fanfiction sites long before (like fam, this anime is literally my childhood it’s such a big part of my life that when I hear ‘mustang’ I think of roy mustang not the car), but at this point, the main story line for me is a blur and I probably just remember only the Roy scenes and the Royai scenes well. 

I was not a big fan of Edwin for multiple reasons. 

Warning: Spoilers abound for FMA so read at your own risk. And for people who watch FMA but not AOT, spoilers abound for AOT is well.

So there are a lot of similarities between Levihan and Royai and I think this is the reason why Levihan definitely appealed to me a lot as a couple. Royai after all was my OG ‘I think I wanna be in this type of relationship’ type of couple. 

Military Setting

I’ve always found these types of relationships interesting cause I like to think, you’re in such a high stakes and very stringent atmosphere where you could die at any moment and you’re constantly doing such morally grey things. And with that, people have the tendency to either close in on themselves and just keep to themselves or just go crazy over time. Yet you have people who find the time to form CLOSE and almost ROMANTIC bonds with your fellow soldiers

And I just like the process of exploring how this happens. And you know what makes it juicier? 

    2. The commander to the subordinate dynamic (with a twist)

The boss to the follower dynamic because Royai and Levihan are both incredibly healthy and stable relationships but they both come from something taboo right? A commander to subordinate relationship? So we ask ourselves? How did they both make it work? 

Well, what I notice is despite the implied respect Riza and Levi both hold for Roy and Hange respectively, due to their positions in the military, do you notice Hange and Roy still have respect over Levi and Riza’s opinions. I cannot remember all the scenes in both shows but remember that scene where Riza would just stop Roy half way into fighting when it’s raining because sometimes he does forget that he can’t do his fire thing when it’s raining? It shows obviously that Riza could undermine his decisions if she finds them completely idiotic or out of the blue. Or that scene where Roy was curbstomping Envy when he found out Envy killed Hughes? 

So, the thing is Levi and Hange worked like this too. Even before Hange became commander, I think there was an already implied hierarchical difference between being ‘squad leader’ and being ‘team captain.’ Squad leader’s are generally in a higher position and command a much larger group and do you see how Levi approaches Hange? Like when telling her off about risking her life when trying to capture the titan? 

And even when she was commander, that telepathy scene?? Can we appreciate, that when Hange became commander (compared to when Erwin was commander), Levi took the reins of a lot of the leading in the survey corps, as if he understood his job wasn’t just to follow Hange but to take care of her? 

Like I’m sure Riza saw her job more as a caretaker to Roy more than his subordinate and seeing this in Levihan was just fantastic.

And another thing I love about both of them...

  3. They were just the two competent level headed people

This is such a trope for me. I cannot handle couples where someone is just not competent or is so obviously underpowered compared to the other. Like I want them to be able to handle themselves without the other. And even when they’re alone they’re doing shit and you just find out later, by the way I have this bf/gf/partner who is equally competent. But when we’re together we just share one brain cell because we can practically melt when we’re safe with the other. 

And the thing is since they’re in a military setting we don’t see them ‘practically melt,’ we can usually just pick out the crumbs (ehem 126), and the fact that these crumbs are such rare gems, makes it all the jucier. 

And here’s the thing, in animes and in stories, this ‘competent people’ couple is usually supporting cast cause I dunno? Nobody wants to hear about the competent couple who just figured out they like each other and they just like hanging out with each other for some reason? 

And most adventure stories are underdog stories where we watch people start of as dead weight and get stronger which is not boring per se but I dunno, these couples usually dont’ appeal to me fsr because I’m all for the power couple dynamic and the protagonists always have something going on making them doubt their strength so yeah.  And there’s usually this token love interest who’s not as strong and tries not to be useless but is kinda dead weight.

4. Their special abilities? 

Levi and Hange are a power couple the way Roy and Riza are. When these two couples were introduced into their respective stories, they were all well established as bad asses. We have humanity’s strongest, humanity’s smartest then in FMA we have the flame alchemist one of the strongest alchemists and we have Riza who’s crazy good with a gun. 

5. They were never that in your face couple

As said above, I really love competent people ships but nobody really likes reading about people being competent and having their level headed shit together so these characters end up with more of supporting character energy who have their ‘big damn heroes’ moments where they swoop in and save the protagonist. 

And the thing is, since they’re supporting characters, there’s so much more room to move when contemplating such couples because the crumbs are there? But at the same time they’re not there? And since I like exploring my own headcanons about those ‘boring’ yet incredibly stable and mature relationships, these tend to be my favorite characters to shoehorn into my spotify playlists.

Edwin and Eremika respectively have more ‘in your face’ crumbs and I dunno, their crumbs for me always seemed to be too obviously there where I was like ‘okay cute relationship’ but  ‘I wouldn’t wanna be in a relationship like that’  kinda way. 

And since main protagonist romantic subplots crumbs are already ‘in my face’ I end up thinking to myself, what’s there to headcanon?

And like they go through so much more problems romance wise since obviously they are the protagonist. But I guess for me, I never liked those couples who were so obviously together and go through problems that bystanders are aware of. Because I dunno, people might not agree with me but it doesn’t sit well with me when EVERYBODY knows about the problems between two certain people in a relationship. 

I always liked those couples who just start off as two people hanging out together and then like five years you find out, they live together and have five cats and it turns out they’ve been married for two of those three years. 

And power couples just make it work? Because the stories tend to focus on them being competent people more than being in love so when the coupling actually happens it’s like: 

“Wow you live together and have five cats, you worked so hard for it, I’m so happy for you.” 

Instead of you know, watching people go through like 3456 instances of miscommunication drama just to end up in a still seemingly doubtful relationship.

6. Iconic scenes for Levihan and Royai? 

And here’s the beautiful thing about the crumbs of both of these ships, they are incredibly apparent when the stakes are high and this is *chef’s kiss.* This is literally the climax, the peak to such subtle crumbs. Like okay, fine it’s satisfying to see the main protagonist and their main love interest doing shit and loving each other when the stakes are high like in Season 2 of AOT with Mikasa thinking she’s gonna die so she confesses to Eren or maybe that Naruto and HInata scene in the Pain Arc where Hinata just pops in and saves Naruto and kinda dies in the process

But can we all agree that there is something very very very satisfying about seeing two people who are probably not or are probably dating just going crazy for each other when the stakes are high? Like yo, come on. 

My favorite scenes for Royai: The Lust fight scene, the Envy fight scene and lastly, the scene where Roy opens the gates to save Riza and goes blind. Can we just appreciate the fact that Roy risked his Colonel dreams to save Riza by going blind??

And for Levihan? I’m sure Levihans are tired of hearing the chapter numbers but 115? That’s fucking iconic, Hange ltierally jumped into the river with Levi and please tell me that is not a parallel to Roy opening the gates for an already half dead Riza. Mind you, Hange did not even know if Levi would make it or not and she probably didn’t know if she would make it or not either. Any of the soldiers could have literally just shot into the river and nicked them with bullets.  She just literally abandoned everything and wooshed to the river. 

And I had this convo with a few other people and we were thinking about what if it was anyone else who found Levi. And we came to the conclusion that IT HAD TO BE HANGE. Because somehow, I feel like Hange would have been one of the only few, if not the only one who would have gathered up the courage to jump into the river and risk their own life to save Levi. 

And for the next part... Disclaimer: This is just my opinion, please let’s not start a ship war.

Like with the war on twitter “Levihan vs. Eruri,” I started to reflect as well on whether or not Erwin would have saved Levi if he was there instead of Hange but I think it is less likely that Erwin would have saved Levi. Erwin probably wouldn’t have agreed with the rumbling definitely but I cannot help but think, Erwin approached his commander position like a chess master and with this, approached Levi as a superior while Hange approached Levi as an equal and a best friend. 

So if, saving Erwin was just going to mess with plans let’s say to manipulate the Yaegerists for some greater purpose, would Erwin have just let Levi die? 

7. The magic is no one fits Roy or Riza perfectly.

I had these same thoughts with Shikatema vs. Levihan and now Royai vs. Levihan. So comparing their dynamics, I just have to say, that none of them fit each other perfectly. Hange has Riza and Roy crumbs and Levi has Riza and Roy crumbs too. 

Like Roy is some ridiculously strong (Levi) superior (Commander Hange) with a seemingly goofy personality (Hange). Riza is the subordinate (Levi) who’s equally reliable but not as overpowered (Hange) with a very strict but very obviously emotionally constipated personality (Levi) 

Like if you put Levihan in some of the token Royai moments. Like the Lust fight? I think Levi would have done something similar to Riza. Okay, he wouldn’t have broken down right then but he would have done something similar to what Roy did when he found out Envy killed Hughes. 

I’m convinced Hange would have had a breakdown which is more of an in between between what Roy (Envy fight) and Riza (Lust fight) had in their respective fights. I mean 115 is proof enough that Hange ain’t playing when her bebeluvs is in danger. 

8. And towards the end of the series?

Okay this is where the comparisons just kinda diverge because this part makes me sad. In the end game, Royai worked together. Riza became the eyes of Roy when he was making shit explode in the final battle coz he was blind. 

And Hange and Levi were completing each other towards the of the AOT end right? Not just with the jian bird references with having parallel injuries. In the final battle though when Levi was out of commission due to the explosion, Hange was the one fighting with the crew until 132. And the moment she died, Levi stepped up and fought right? 

Like they had something similar going on, where these two were covering for each other and taking care of the kids. It’s just that compared to Royai who were explicitly working together, we have Hange covering for Levi right after he got injured and Levi stepping up to cover for Hange after she died. 

AND I can’t help but think, literally post time skip just could not handle Levihan working together huh? Is that how competent Levi and Hange are as soldiers that Yams couldn’t let them work together just one last time? Like he knew it would mess with the story if he lets Levi and Hange lead at full power?

Which brings me to last point, and the point that makes me saddest.

9. About them being endgame? 

Okay, so it wasn’t confirmed that Roy and Riza ended up together because Roy still had his fuhrer goals but AT LEAST THEY HAD A CHANCE? Like their last scene in the show was still them together? And Riza still at least got to follow him? 

Levihan… They just… shit just happened and we all know what happened and now I’m reading fanfiction and crying over fcitoonal characters to pass the quarantine.

Anyway, if you reached this point, thank you for reading. And thank you for the question anon!

[hacash]

Tagged by @goatsandgangsters

1. Why did you choose your url?

it’s based off an old username for some fandom blogs I used back in the day

2. Any side blogs?

no side blogs I splurge all my obsessions onto one single blog like men

3. How long have you been on tumblr?

2014

4. Do you have a queue tag?

I used to but honestly I can’t be bothered anymore

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

I used to check various tumblr blogs (I think @dollsome-does-tumblr was my gateway blog because of her fabulous ‘Lamentations of a Starry-Eyed Twit’) but when The Musketeers season 2 was prepping @paintedimagining recommended I check out tumblr to see all the pre-season excitement

and

well

here we are

(blame her! :))

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

because Colin is ridiculously pretty and also I want people to associate me with ditzy Welsh goofballs who can’t drive, given that I am one

7. Why did you choose your header?

because it’s the most iconic moment in recent television history

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

this post saying that eowyn actually had a good happy ending where she got rest from war and suicidal intentions and reducing her arc to ‘settling for a housewife role’ is really shit non-feminism and ridiculously bad reading skills

I stand by it

9. How many mutuals do you have?

can you even check that?

10. How many followers do you have?

1,422: quite a decent number from my ted lasso blogging

11. How many people do you follow?

146 (I’m not sure how many still run though)

12. Have you ever made a shit post?

my friend most of my posts are shitposts

13. How often do you use tumblr a day?

I’m lucky enough to have an office job so I usually scroll through it when I have a five minute break

14. Did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog?

enhhhh I know I’ve got anon hate so clearly some blogs have had fights with ME but I’ve very rarely responded. I’ve certainly gone as far as ‘British passive-aggression’ debates with another blog but I don’t think it’s ever spiralled too far.

15. How do you feel about the ‘you need to reblog’ posts?

immediately makes me not want to even if I agree with every syllable posted

16. Do you like tag games?

I love being tagged in tag games! not always that good at responding

17. Do you like ask games?

AGAIN, I love getting asks from ask games and am not always that good at responding. to everyone who has ever submitted an ask for an ask game and has never heard back from me, please know I’m sorry and your ask haunts me to this day.

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

ummm I thiiiink @dollsome-does-tumblr has become mildly tumblr famous a few times for posts that they definitely didn’t mean to blow up the way they did? other than that not really, although I’m lucky to be mutuals with some folks who are definitely tumblr-fandom famous because of their fabulous art/fics/meta etc

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

bud I don’t become mutuals unless I have a crush on you

20. Tags!

@arboreals @paintedimagining @rubecso @boasamishipper @kalinara @kamillahn @connorswhisk @hippity-hoppity-brigade @sweetlyfez & @why-this-kolaveri-machi and anyone else who fancies it

[m34gs]

Hello friend!! 'Tis I, in ypur inbox again😊😊For the 3 things ask, may I ask 8, 15, 24, and 36??

I hope you're having a lovely day!!

Hey friend! Nice to see ya!! I'm having a good day, and I hope you are too! Thank you for the ask :D (from this post here)

8. 3 tv shows that you never get bored of

Ohhhh this is actually a tough one because I am consistently having to watch mulitple shows during the same time period just so I can switch between them in an effort to prevent myself getting bored...Hmmmm. Ok, I would have to say:

Merlin: I watched the entire show in just over 2 weeks. And no, I didn't do much else during the two weeks. And I love it still.

Natsume's Book of Friends: an anime that I absolutely adore about a high school boy who can see yokai and grew up isolated and needs to learn how to trust people and have friendships :)

BONES: hehehehe. I love this show.

15. 3 quotes that have a special place in your life

I know this is likely meant to be motivational but...I love humourous quotes and movie references, so here are some I really enjoy and have shaped my humour and personality:

Captain Jack Sparrow, Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl: "Me? I'm a dishonest man. And a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. Honestly. It's the honest ones you want to watch out for, because you can never predict when they're going to do something incredibly...stupid."

My brother and I quote this one so often I am sure my father has absorbed the quote through osmosis alone as he has never been able to stay awake long enough to watch a Pirates of the Caribbean movie.

This next one requires a bit of context, and I love it. In Robin Hood: Prince of Theives, as Robin is escaping the Bishop's chambers, the Sheriff of Nottingham shouts "Locksley!!! I'm going to cut your heart out, with a spoon!!!"

This prompts the following exchange that I absolutely adore:

Sheriff's cousin: "why a spoon, cousin? why not an ax?" Sheriff: "Because it's dull, you twit; it'll hurt more."

(Part of what makes this quote so memorable is how Alan Rickman (the sheriff) delivered it. His voice and inflection and tone are phenomenal and I love it so much.)

Finally, we have the famous musical, Chicago, with the line from Cell Block Tango:

"He was crazy. And then, he ran into my knife. He ran into my knife ten times."

I mean, who doesn't love a fun song about murder?

24. 3 places that makes you feel peaceful

My cousin's homes in Calgary; they are cousins on my mother's side and I love being around them. They are amazing and fun and make me feel so comforted.

An indoor pool that is mostly empty at 6 in the morning. There's like, no one there except a few elderly people doing their laps and a couple tired life guards who mostly let you do your own thing while they are supervising the pool.

Libraries. I spent so much time in our town library as a child that they feel like a second home to me.

36. 3 ways of traveling that you enjoy the most

Walking. It can be very relaxing and I feel really accomplished if I've gone on a good walk, and it's a nice way to exercise while going from one place to another and allows you a chance to soak in the scenery.

Car rides. Specifically, ones where I'm in the back seat and left to my own devices because I can daydream, plot stories, listen to music, or read if I want to.

Snow mobile. I love trying to lose my siblings in the calf sled behind me by tipping them over in the snow. Ehehehehe.

Thanks again for the ask, friend. Hope you enjoyed the responses!

[minjungfmd]

bbibbi comeback / interview

/ series of question and answers regarding bbibbi’s release.

1. how would you describe this release?

“i’d say it’s a cheeky song, one that’s meant to blend in the background until you let the lyrics catch you off guard. it’s playful, kind of bratty. stylistically, it’s a genre i haven’t touched on a lot, blending some take of r&b. despite the drastic change from blueming, i hope listeners can take a fresh-face listen at the song considering it’s one of my favorite tracks i’ve released till this day.” 

2. what is your favorite part about this release?

“what i really love are the lyrics — though, it may seem like i’m drowning in pretentiousness considering i wrote them. but they’re honest in a way that doesn’t come from mesmerized heartbreak like my past releases. instead, it’s honest independently of others, where i’m able to grow as a writer and express myself bluntly and playfully to those willing to listen.” 

3. what were preparations for this release like?

”a lot of dance practice. the only other release with a set choreography up until this point was twit, which required a lot of hours in the dance studio. however, this one matched up too despite the subtle nature of the dance. ironically, twit’s choreography and bbibbi’s choreographer are the same and considering the different genres being played with, i’d have to say that this choreography ran a lot more smoothly. aside from the dance, i was subject to a lot of secret schedules to hide the quick turnaround of a comeback from my fans. all in all, i’d just describe it as busy.”

4. what do you hope to achieve through this release?

“i hope people take it as a fair warning with their yellow card, knowing that i remain privy to the comments and little tiny whispers on the street. no limits now because i’ve turned the eyes of ambivalence on all of that — realizing nothing comes from the hypocrisy embedded in the comments.”

5. what is the most memorable lyric from this single/album for you?

“i’m keeping it simple as it’s self-described right in the lines: yellow c-a-r-d if you cross this line, it’s a violation. keeping manners stop here, it’s mine. please keep the line. i think it spells out the exact rationale and inspiration plucked from the song.”

6. this comeback comes right off the tail-end of blueming, which is sonically different than bbibbi. is there a relation between the shift of genre?

“i’ve always been experimental in my music, not really staying with one genre for two long. inspiration and things that i enjoy pass by in seasons — just as favorite foods change over years. so, what i like one season might cause one song while another thought leads to different collection of notes. as for the content, i can tell you to connect the dots, all you need to know is that blueming becomes an ode for those that have supported me along the way while bbibbi is a yellow card for detractors.”

7. what’s your favorite part about the bbibbi stages so far?

“i think in general, it’s the 얄미운 (mean-y? idk the translation) nature of the song. the way i’m able to stand on stage, dance like a child again with a big smile on my face while giving these warning signs. it’s the contradiction between the lyrics and the execution that make the song have an overall charm while performing on stage.”

[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!

[digitalworldbound]

the chosen on social media

this is inspired by @tangledupblue and her wonderful instagram series. you can find those here, as well as other digimon related things! (please check them out - i love them!)

hikari 

probably has a cute handle - something like @/light.of.your.life or @/hikariferarri (courtesy of takeru). 

is instagram FAMOUS for her photography. she also helps the other chosen take quality pictures for their social medias

she only has facebook so that she can share her mom’s recipes

while she likes snapchat, the updates can get confusing. there have been multiple times where she sent iori a message meant for miyako

hikari loves twitter, but only to find meme to send to the “LIL BABEY MONS” group chat. (in reference to one of her fav vids, THIS).

has a tiktok, but only posts behind-the-scenes shots of photo shoots or asmr day-in-my-life clips.

iori 

he has an instagram, but posts once every 43 weeks

he loves using Facebook to keep up with his family members, kendo pals, and school friends. he only posts selfies that make him look like an old man or the shots hikari captures at his matches.

despite being the youngest chosen, he really acts like the oldest. he doesnt really get all of the "twitting" and "chat snapping". why don't people just send emails anymore?

he only downloaded snapchat because miyako threatened him with his life kindly suggested that he be apart of the "LIL BABEY MONS" group chat

yamato

this boy is a twitter KING

he can literally post about his least favorite genre of milk (🤢 skim 🤢) and have thousands of retweets in a few minutes

instagram isnt really his “thing”, but anytime he does post, takeru gives him shit for it

he has to most followers out of anyone in the group, but mimi is a close second

facebook hasn’t been a thing for him since he was eleven and wanted to play farmville

sora

she updates DAILY for her facebook friends

anytime she drinks a diet coke? posted. the horrible incident involving veemon and a lost diaper? written about in detail. 

she is a total mom friend, and most of her pictures consist of piyomon and her friends at their extracurricular activities. 

she runs a fan account for knife of day on twitter. after the band changed their name, most of their follower-base was lost, so sora...became a fandom catfish to give them clout.

once a month, she has to go on a “social media detox” because she used pinterest more than 3 hours.

ken

tries to avoid all social media because people still tag him in his old interviews. (his hair style?  🤢 🤢 his attitude?  🤮 🤮

he also used to be a cyber bully in elementary school. his old email address was narutorokz91@gmail.com

he’s on linkedin,,,,,,it’s not that cool

he leaves everyone on read with snapchat. his philosophy is that if the person truly needed him, they would just call

he LOVES making playlists on spotify!!! some of them even have more than ten likes!!!

also, he updates his goodreads daily and makes sure to review every single thing he has ever read.

daisuke

this boy SPAMS snapchat and his instagram with food pics

“phone eats first”

he also lowkey runs a thirst-trap tiktok account. his motto is “i do it for the girls and the gays, that’s it.”

his snap score is ASTRONOMICAL, and he probably has well over 300 friends. 

he often posts those “anonymous message” things, but only posts the nice ones because he wants people to think that he is Super Cool.

he tries too hard on instagram, and the other chosen often tease him in the comments 

his favorite pastime is to watch trick-shots on youtube

jou

he doesnt really have the time to divulge in social media, so his phone is pretty dry. 

his only friends on snapchat are the eleven other chosen and his “””””””””””girlfriend””””””””””””””””””” 

facebook?? who is she?? 

he only uses instagram to promote local charities, share photos of “interesting” x-rays, wounds, etc, and to post links to informational articles

that’s it, honestly. he is a simple man.

miyako

QWEEN of EVERYTHING, sry about it

instagram? she serves LOOKS daily

snapchat? you KNOW she spams “LIL BABEY MONS” at all hours of the night with obscure memes and questions about philosophy.

she also loves to use pinterest for some of her more elaborate ideas, but leaves the bulk of that to mimi.

she is semi-famous on twitter for starting drama in the “computer enthusiat” community (it isn’t her fault that twelve-year-old boys have the ego of a fully grown daisuke and need to be knock down a peg or few)

miyako is also a life-style vlogger, but her most famous video is titled  “day in the life of a japanese student that casually studied abroad in spain but is back now!!! 🌸 💫 🌈 ”

she also invites mimi onto her channel so that they can make disaster-prone recipes together

koushiro

he has snapchat because it is mimi’s preferred form of communication

anytime kou sees a cool flower or something pretty, he sends it to the girls 

despite being very proficient in computer studies, he refuses to help the girls change the html text of their blogs to make it ombre

linkedin is his most favorite, and he thinks it is fun to update his resume

he lowkey is the admin of a world-wide digimon discord server along with takeru 

taichi

his snap score rivals daisuke’s, but it is mainly used for his teammates and the various...lovely women he meets up with most nights.

his dm’s are always full, and his instagram is full of only soccer pics. that’s it. that is his only personality trait.

he only follows two (2) famous soccer players on twitter, but hasnt logged on since middle school. his profile picture is a stock photo of a dinosaur

,,,,,,,,,lowkey has pornhub premium 

mimi

pinterest is her literal bestfriend. she is ALWAYS searching up ideas about home decor, new recipes, etc.

YOUTUBER STATUS!!!! she is so chaotic and edits her videos to the max, but the public love her.

her insta is filled with plants, cute outfits, scenery, and candids of her friends. she also highkey loves having a social media theme!! 

she has 86 profiles on facebook because she keeps forgetting her passwords and doesnt know how to delete the old ones

takeru

he LOVES goodreads! he makes all kinds of friends that like the same stories!!

he loves moderating the digimon discord server because he can learn all kinds of language and ways to tell hikari he loves her

he posts aesthetic pictures of books and coffee shops on his insta and odd snippets of his friends (hikari's hand in the corner, yamato's hair poking about, whatever strikes his fancy)