Could I Actually Write My Fics W/ All This Energy After Wad? Yes. Am I Going To Just Brush Off This Cute

the alt. thanks to them opening boards are going to emotionally scar me for life. look at his face. luz is terrified but desperate with a hope she feels is unfounded, needing that optimism to imagine a way out of this that doesn't hurt; that doesn't end in more tragedy?

she thinks they're on the same level of bad but sad. that she did as much as hunter in the name of helping belos, without knowing the whole truth of who belos was, who he is. she's traumatized by it.

she needs to not be alone in it.

the i'll keep your secret if you keep mine is a knife to the heart. we are in this together, she is saying. whether we like it or not, at least we have each other. at least i'm not alone.

but what do you say to that? how do you make a witch's oath without magic? you take it to heart. you hold it closer to anything. there aren't words for a devotion like that, the kind of devotion hunter has led with his entire life, and now, here, it's for luz. it's for everyone, for protecting them, to be able for them to get home again.

it's reminiscent of that good old golden guard loyalty, but remade in the light of this new world, new life. it's a cause to live by, a goal, a dream; and as the story goes, we can see - there isn't much he isn't willing to sacrifice for it, especially if the cost is only himself.

(he has nothing to return for, after all. he has a graveyard, filled to the brim with bones and masks and a future he only narrowly escaped.)

sacrifice - that is something he's been waiting for his whole life. so of course he's willing to risk everything for them. what better ending is there, where at the very least, his friends can go home to where they are loved? where no one has to be afraid, anymore?

you leave your home behind, but you take your ghosts with you. don't you see the problem? how the story has already begun to unravel, before your eyes, in your hands: the way the world is too gentle, the light too bright, how your reflection doesn’t really look like you? hunter expects the human realm to be at least somewhat similar to that of life on the boiling isles. it isn’t, and he struggles to come to terms. or: times hunter does domestic human things the wrong way, and how over time he begins to get it just right (in his own way, which means kind of, not really, not at all).

hope u all enjoy some time in the human realm + trying to adjust to it after king's tide angst n comfort vibes. i have a handful of chapters for it lined up and outlined further so far, so buckle up, we're in for a ride >:)

good afternoon, still thinking softly of the trailer for wad and the idea of the hex squad protecting hunter (from luz for extra pizazz, thank u, especially since she was the one to begin all of them coming together, to be the thing that unravels them as well is just so chefs kiss)?

and just how lovely of an idea that is. to finally be something that is deemed worthy of protection. of friends. how the story says you have been strong enough. the story says you can be safe, now. in a dream you spoke a secret, in the dream you wanted to be safe and now you are here, among friends, and how they would lay down their lives for you (instead of just the inverse, instead of how the story has been for ages and ages, beyond memory, beyond you)

Here is the problem: Hunter doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

He wouldn’t even know what to do with his hands.

that first & last line parallel ... i feel it in my blood like caffeine.

it's that good ouroboros lore, it's the feeling that your decisions have already been pre-made, far before you, beyond you? how the story is already set, long before you'd ever even taken a breath?

if your narrative isn't an endless loop, doing spirals around spirals until the entire thing a a parallel of itself, a parable of it's own telling, what're you even doing, u know?

the first chapter of the fic i have been thinkin ab since watching & dreaming aired is nearly finished and ready to post but i keep fumbling when it comes to a name. this never happens usually the name comes first but this!!!!! this!!!!

ft. a note that i did consider lyrics from but were just good vibes

these for the future boards. going insane.

even in the earlier ones in the gym he's so stilted with his anger? the heavy weight of what they've just all been through, his guilt? they don't even have gus' lil finger guns and hunter's embarrassed blush yet he is just angry. through and through. and it's so jarring, his quiet, compared to the easy sassy talkative vibe of the golden guard. this isn't even that this is just. an emptiness, and trying to make his way through it without flap. the grief trying to eat him whole.

u ever go in to do final reads to look for spelling errors and weird formatting things and accidentally, idk, end up adding five hundred more words

u ever think about how hunter would learn about wolves in the human realm and then have the windows open, hear a familiar, distant sound and go oh! oh! wolves in connecticut! wolves in connecticut! and it's just the siren of an ambulance

he's stupid and he's biased, your honor.

never in my life did i think i could be so into the vibes of and arc of and writing for some colonial ass white boy named hunter, of all things, but alas. here we are, loving and thriving