#TOH fics

[findmeinthefallair]

We All Got Our Torch to Burn, and This Here’s Mine

Fic is up now

Ao3 link

“Here, son. Let me take a look at that –”

However, Hunter’s vision flooded with dots and his face was all flushed now, the back of his neck also white hot. He pressed both hands to his temples, feeling the most exasperated he had in a while.

He was back at the cemetery, feeling the rot in his bones and Flapjack’s feathers in his own iron grip. Now he remembered all over again, how his best friend had struggled in his grasp. It was as though jolts of electricity shot through his whole right arm.

[kolapon-art]

🧵darius & hunter (dadrius week day 3: secrets)

🧵5.2k words 🧵Hunter visits the place Belos died and everything goes wrong (or despite Darius' warnings, Hunter goes back to the ruins of the castle and loses himself in bad memories as soon as he sees whats left of the throneroom)

@sergeantsporks

[carpisuns]

sliding my last pre-finale huntlow under the door of ao3 at the last possible second lol

word count: 4.6k

summary:

Willow took a breath. “I was thinking, when all this is over, we could, um, go out. Like Amity and Luz.”

“I’d like that,” Hunter said.

“Okay. Cool.”

He paused. “Does … does that mean I would be your boyfriend?”

Or, Willow and Hunter define the relationship

[drabbles-of-writing]

Pretending Not to See Your Ghost

AO3

Chapters: 2, 3

Summary: Darius has begun to notice a few...𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴 between Hunter and his old mentor. From appearance, to speech, to the smallest of characteristics, he always swears he'll blink, and his mentor will be standing right where Hunter once was, as though nothing had ever changed.

But he's sure it's only a coincidence.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Got that all out of your system yet?”

Darius let out a long, loud hiss.

“Taking that as a no, then.”

“Would you just be quiet?” He snapped, not even bothering to spare a glance back. It wasn’t worthy of a glare, even if the sight of the carnage in front of him made his chest twist. 

It was only a tiny piece of the Night Market. No one would care for all the shops that lay in ruin, the potions strewn about, the spilled seeds of old plants. They weren’t worth the ugly gnarl in his gut. They weren’t worth the guilt. They were made by criminals, after all.

Criminals who lay in bindings, just against the nearby building. He suspected they wouldn’t wake up anytime soon.

“Afraid not.” Said the jackass, yet again. “You don’t pay me to be quiet. Well, not that I’m really paid to begin with, but…hm, no, let me rephrase that. You didn’t hire me to be—”

“Let me rephrase,” Darius grit his teeth, clenching his hands up into tighter fists, shoulders hunching, “I am telling you to be silent.”

“I also can’t abide by that.” He continued anyway, voice entirely calm, entirely careless, and Darius could already see the strands of scattered abomination goop inching across the floor. Crawling out from cracks, reaching up towards his fists. “I don’t take orders from you. And even if I did, do you really think I’d listen? I mean, barring everything else, even you can’t seem to listen to orders, which is not a very good example to set. Believe me, I speak from experience.” He said, and it was a damn taunt, that’s what it was, and suddenly Darius didn’t care so much about his fear of witches coming to investigate the disaster around them. “Why, I have this apprentice who I think saw me skimp out on a few orders, maybe even ignore a few. Now, he’s running around thinking he can do whatever he wants, and that’s not very beneficial for—”

“Just shut up!” Darius snarled, curling in his throat and hurting with the force, from the amount of shouting he’d done before now, whirling, blinding hot fury making his skin hot and movements jerk. There was a wall of purple and black, a roar created from the goo at his fingertips, unyielding and—

A blip, the smallest kind. A blur of reddish magic, an abomination crashing down right where a body had been, moments before. The ground caved in where the witch had been moments before, abomination howling.

Darius saw the blur at the edge of his vision. Much too close, the flutter of a white cape in the wind, just behind his back.

Darius spun, fangs bared in a blinded growl, feeling the encasing of an abomination around his fist, and, partially on impulse, partially just to feel something break, swung as hard as he could.

It didn’t connect with the mask facing him. No, instead, it stepped aside, easily missing where Darius’s fist would have connected. In its place, a staff rose, knocking gently against the side of Darius’s wrist, some mock at a parry.

Under normal circumstances, Darius would have found the lack of a quip slightly alarming. Now, though, he just hissed, much more spitting-like than usual, abomination curling around his other fist, swinging just as wildly.

Again, another step to the side, staff moving away. It twirled in one hand, drawing down before the end of it shot up, catching Darius’s wrist between the two sharp spikes at the end, clinging tight.

“I don’t want to hear it!” Darius barked, yanking back with all his might and trying to wildly punch with his other hand, which didn’t much work, seeing as he had to try and punch over his caught arm, his adversary apparently making sure his wrist was stuck tight. “I don’t want yo–your stupid jokes or-or a bloody I told you so!”

The staff raised higher, jerking Darius forward with it. He stumbled, coming closer, more face-to-face with that golden mask. It stared impassively back at him, the owner keeping his arm high above as he looked down.

“Alright, then.” Said the Golden Guard, casual as can be. “I won’t.”

He knew what was expected of him here, held in a state of tense silence. He knew how it had gone, all those other times, when a stern look was leveled his way, when he’d made one too many mistakes. A harsh flick of the wrist, a tightening grip on a staff. 

He never knew what would’ve happened if he didn’t stop. He just knew that, on instinct, he’d always halted whatever he’d been doing. Any and all abominations fell to the ground and out of sight, put away before he could find out just what the punishment would be.

The Golden Guard was not someone you tested the odds with. Darius had never been stupid enough to try. He knew he’d lose.

That was the Darius from back then, though, who knew much less, and who was even less furious. That was the Darius who had a healthy dose of fear for the Golden Guard.

He hadn’t feared the Golden Guard in a long while. Not by a healthy amount, at least.

So, Darius swallowed, then forced his eyes away from where he was staring at his caught wrist. He shifted it to the mask staring straight at him, forcing everything into his glare, into his fists curling tighter, tiny spikes pricking up along the knuckles.

He lifted his head, just a little bit. A challenge.

A stupid challenge, really. One he’d regret, he was sure, but that was a problem for future Darius.

If there'd be a Darius in the future, that is. 

The Golden Guard held his gaze. Silent, and unmoving, save for the tiniest twitch of an ear that disturbed his hood, the only giveaway to how many thoughts were in that head of his.

Then, one hand left his staff. That hand raised, high above, and Darius watched. He looked up, saw it stop, knew when it’d come down. Only then, did he shut his eyes, shoulders hunching, and—

The hand lightly tapped over his head.

Darius blinked.

The Golden Guard snorted. 

“You’re pretty damn impressive, kid.” He said, and Darius jerked his head up, looking at the hand placed at an angle over his head, not even ruffling his hair. “I take it that’s what you’d rather hear, yeah?”

Darius kept staring. The Golden Guard stared back.

“...what?” Darius got out.

“Hmm, yeah, I worded that wrong.” The Golden Guard hummed, head tilting slightly. “I mean, you are impressive, regardless of if you wanna hear it? Does that work? I dunno, but I’m not telling you that you’ve got ‘spunk’ or something.” He huffed, arm slowly falling back down to his side. “I’m not fifty-five.”

“What.” Darius repeated, for lack of anything else to say.

“Integrity, I think? That sounds like the right word here.” The Golden Guard tried to clarify, drawing his staff down, looking from Darius’s fist, then to his face. “Am I gonna get my lights knocked out?”

Slowly, very slowly, Darius shook his head.

“Wonderful,” The Golden Guard said cheerfully, snagging Darius’s sleeve, “hold still.”

With that, the Golden Guard yanked his staff away.

“Hey!” Darius yelped, feeling a spike of pain all through his wrist, coming to the realization he had gotten truly stuck in the spikes—and maybe it was a mix of the yanking, or Darius leaping back with all his might—but his wrist managed to pop free with another harsh twist.

“There we go!” The Golden Guard chirped, turning his staff over and inspecting it as Darius stumbled back, cradling his wrist. “Like nothing ever happened. Now then,” He said, still cheerful, spinning right on his heel, “we have your mess to pick up after. Which is a rather impressive mess.” He continued, oblivious to Darius’s wide eyes. “I think I’ll take credit for teaching you that—”

“Is that it?” Darius wound up blurting, and the Golden Guard paused.

It was a tense one, for just a moment, and Darius was stiffening up before the Golden Guard turned around, head tilting, body as lax as ever.

“Well, I’m gonna have to put you on errand-boy missions, if even that, for the next, oh, month or so.” He said, calm as ever. “But I’m happy to say that I’m pretty terrible at going through with normal punishments in this Coven. This kind of scolding will suffice, right?”

“I…” Darius stared, blinking slowly. “Jasper, you can’t be serious.”

“Well, you said you didn’t want to hear ‘I told you so.’” The Golden Guard shrugged, head tilting down slightly, enunciating where his eyes had fallen, and Darius glanced to see abominations were still around his fists. “And getting into a fistfight with my apprentice is typically poor form. So, I’ll go out on a limb here and say you weren’t being stupid on purpose.”

“It was a thought-out plan.” Darius grumbled, though he did slowly force away the goop. “And it was going just fine until you got here.”

“Mmm, sure it was.” The Golden Guard hummed, head slowly turning to take in the mess around them. “Fantastic, even. No, of course, we had to disobey orders for this. A very worthwhile endeavor, I must say—”

“This is a very basic drug-runner mission!” Darius snapped, gesturing with a hand to the tied up witches. “Something I can more than handle.”

“Like you did today.”

“It was working until you showed up like you always do!” Darius hissed, ears flattening back. “I was doing just fine in this Coven on my own, you know. I was picked from the best.” He took a step forward, glaring up at an uncaring mask. “I’m not a damn scout. I’m more than equipped for a proper mission, which I could show you, if you would quit running off!”

The Golden Guard stared down at him impassively. Darius had the urge to shrink back, like he always did. Instead, he forced his glare into something meaner, lip twitching over a fang.

Then, another snort. Darius almost barked a retort before the Golden Guard looked around, checking the perimeter. At nothing appearing in his line of sight, he lifted his hands to the bottom of his mask.

He pushed it up, and Darius saw a smiling, scarred face. One day, it’d look even worse than it already was. Right now, though, Darius still thought it was concerning just how many scars the boy had. He wasn’t that much older than him.

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?” Jasper puffed, though there was a teasing edge to it. 

Darius stared, blinked a few times. His glare lessened, and he took a small step back.

“I’m better than this.” Darius forced himself to say, glancing out to the wreckage. “Well—better than sitting out missions all the time.” He insisted.

“Yeah,” Jasper also looked around, “yeah, alright, I see your point.”

Darius straightened, and Jasper’s grin just widened, exposing each and every tooth. They were just a bit too crooked, and if you squinted, his left canine looked just a bit longer than his right.

“Don’t go getting a big head,” Jasper warned right after, eyes sliding to the side, and Darius was always just a little unnerved by them. They didn’t look like a witch’s, not quite a demon’s, and he’d never seen anyone with that unnatural shade of magenta, “but…hey, you sure made your opinion loud and clear.” He chuckled, ears twitching down slightly. “I swear, kid, one of these days, I’m not gonna know what the hell I’m supposed to do with you.”

It came off as a joke. And Darius puffed, very slightly, at his words. Jasper’s smile stayed, and he wanted to believe it as a tease. He wanted to, but it looked just a little too…soft. He dared call it genuine.

The Golden Guard wasn’t genuine. When was that ever even a possibility?

But Jasper was…he was listening. That was a first, and it was one Darius took. Perhaps he got a little giddier than he should’ve been, that Jasper was looking at him, not over his head, but he thinks he more than deserved it.

“My,” Darius said, because he wasn’t sure what to do there, but he had to say something, “is the great Golden Guard admitting he was wrong?”

“You see what I mean about the big head?” Jasper scoffed, rolling his eyes and turning away, and Darius did snigger then, something that was almost a smile forming. “Honestly, I can't say one nice thing about people in this Coven, it makes them puff up like blimps.” He complained, sliding his mask back down.

“You’re part of this Coven.” Darius reminded, flexing his fingers to alleviate the shaking.

“Oh, hush,” Jasper grumbled, turning halfway, towards Darius stepping closer. He made a point to shoulder Darius’s side, nearly sending him toppling to the ground. The friendly gesture had him staring like a spooked rabbit, though Jasper hardly reacted, “you’re impressive for an apprentice. Remember that.”

“...course,” Darius cracked a real smile, then, finding he didn’t mind all that much, “of course, sir. Wouldn’t dream of thinking otherwise.”

“Eugh!” Jasper winced back, dramatic, making a gagging sound that had Darius fully giggling. “Kid, I told you about the ‘sir’ thing, never say that again—”

“Then don’t call me kid!” Darius huffed back, ears twitching, unable to hide his smile continuing to grow. “I’m barely younger than you.”

“You’re scarcely fifteen. It’s young enough.” Jasper waved his hand, turning away. “Tell you what, I stop calling you kid, and you don’t call me sir ever again. Sound fair?”

“Deal.” Darius nodded, looking out to the remains of this corner of the Night Market. “Do I have to help clean this up?”

“I’m tempted to say yes.” Jasper said, before he held out his staff, twirling it. “But I don’t want to clean this up. So let's skedaddle before someone makes us, huh?”

“And you wonder why I don’t listen to you.” Darius scoffed, and Jasper tilted his head, just a bit, a glance of his mask over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Jasper hummed, “guess I should work on that. But I’m sure you’ll make sure I don’t forget.”

“Never.” Darius grinned, a promise he barely had to think about.

And, despite the mask in the way, despite how Jasper didn’t so much as twitch, he had a feeling he was smiling back at him, too. 

 .

 Hunter flinched when Darius raised his hand.

That was the part that stuck in his mind. He didn’t let it seep into his features, managed to keep himself from even hesitating. He still followed through with his action, albeit much gentler than how it was originally, letting his hand gently fall over the boy’s head.

He grinned, then, at Hunter pausing, blinking up at him in surprise.

“I’m impressed.” He said, and he guessed it surprised himself as much as it surprised Hunter to know he was genuine.

Darius readily admitted he wasn’t much of a kid person. Too noisy and full of bad ideas for his liking. His patience only went so far, and so he never tried to put it in the same room as a child, let alone a teenager. There were many who’d be far better than him.

Hunter wasn’t exactly his proof of that, but…well, he’d been everything short of despising the kid from the moment he bore a mask he never once deserved.

Even then, he knew it was somewhat unfair. But it was so easy to sneer at the kid, to barely restrain a growl whenever he walked in, head up high, barking orders like he earned the right to so much as be in the same room as half the Emperor’s Coven.

He knew the kid wasn’t a slacker. But a nepotism hire was an easy way to erase any and all accomplishments done up till that point. He knew damn well that kid hadn’t done even close to enough to earn the title of the Golden Guard. 

So, he didn’t like Hunter. Not when he was fourteen and first wearing the mask, and it only slightly lessened as the years went on. Turned to a burr-like grievance rather than a bitter resentment at the audacity—

But here, this is where the kid impressed him. Because Hunter was many things. He was a loyal dog, he was a kiss-up, a tryhard, spoiled, and everything expected from the nephew of the Emperor. That is to say, in short; annoying.

He’d never call the kid a rebel. Not for anything, not towards his own uncle.

And yet, there was that palisman on his shoulder, and there were bruises all over Darius’s body where a staff had whacked him, and he knew that, if he went into the forest, he’d still find those Hexside students, saved by the very boy who put them in danger in the first place.

He supposed, then, that perhaps it wasn’t so out-there for Raine to find it unbelievable that he and Eberwolf were traitors. That they had been blindsided by the idea, when Darius himself was blindsided by a sixteen-year-old who couldn’t sew for the life of him.

Before his hand came down, resting over the kids head, he had one thought, and it made him twitch with something that was slightly bitter, something slightly wistful, and that was this: Jasper would’ve liked him.

Jasper had a soft spot for the rule-followers who could be changed. For the ones who were so uptight that came to unwind. Not for the ones who spit and kicked for their rebellion from the start, but the ones that had a slow change, the ones that always gave the strongest reactions to Jasper’s shenanigans. 

“Magic or not,” Darius said, and he tried not to let that old scar show in his expressions, “I think you’ll make your predecessors proud.”

This surprised him less, to know he was being honest. The rebellion part, that was easy. Jasper would’ve liked him for that alone. He always did, especially if that witch was, well, a massive pain in the ass. 

As a successor, that part was a little more complicated. He supposed Jasper would’ve been proud to see his rank was being filled with people who were still going behind the Emperor’s back. 

Hunter looked up at him, with, really, nothing short of shock. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, he supposed, something searching and flickering in his eyes, even as Darius tossed the old, raggedy cloak his way.

Hunter’s eyes were an odd shade of magenta, now that he was looking. Of all the witches to have Jasper’s rare eyes, of course it happened to be his successor.

It was another aching pang in Darius’s chest, but he smoothed it right back down. He’d had more than enough bittersweet reminders tonight, and now certainly wasn’t the time.

He had a Golden Guard to take home.

[disregardcanon]

The Owl House New York City Trip- a draft I won't finish

“Wow Luz! I can’t believe that you have a long-lost twin sister!” one of her classmates exclaims.

“Yep!” Luz giggles, “it’s like something out a novel, right?”

“Yeah,” says one of the girls who doesn’t like her that much, “a bad one.”

“It was just a parent trap situation,” Luz says, rolling her eyes, “it’s not that crazy. Now Vee’s jut living with us and everything is peachy keen.”

“And you’re off to… boarding school?”

“Yup!” Luz says, “and whenever I’m off term, I’ll be back to hang out with mom and Vee.”

"And we're supposed to just... believe that?"

“Uh huh,” Luz says, “gottagobye!”

“Wait,” one of Vee's friends asks,“you’ve never been to New York City before?”

Luz shrugs.

“But you’re from Connecticut?” she demands.

“Mami just never thought it was important,” Luz says, “and then I’ve been off at boarding school.”

“Where is that again?” Vee asks just a little snidely.

“Montana.”

"Are you really upset that I've never been to New York City?" Luz asks.

"Well, yeah," Vee tells her, "i've lived in the human realm for like, six months now and I've been there twice."

"Good for you?"

"It IS good for me! The city's awesome!"

Luz rolls her eyes. "Not as cool as Bonesburrow."

“Don’t you want to explore this world too?” Vee asks with wide, pleading eyes. Luz suddenly feels like she's being an asshole to her very sweet new sister.

“Okay, yes. Fine,” Luz says.

Vee’s friend Lily's mom drives them the half an hour to Hartford, CT, and they hop on a train to Manhattan, NY.

And okay, yeah, it's pretty cool. Luz forgot that the human realm could be enchanting too.

[whisperwillyou]

Thanks so much for the fic list! There’s so many here I can’t believe it! You must have read a lot to find these and I super appreciate you taking the time!

I should have included this in my last post but now I’m curious are any of these dadrius? I joined the fandom late and missed why everyone like it- to me he seems actually kind of mean to Hunter and I don’t really like dadrius. The first one looks like it might be, but even if a few are you gave so many recs I think I can easily avoid it.

No problem at all, my friend!

And yes, I have read a lot of fics

A LOT

Consequently, I’ve also had the misfortune of being tricked into reading many a romance fic because they weren’t tagged properly, or weren’t tagged at all, or added the huntlow tag 10 chapters in when I’d already subscribed to the fic etc. 😒 but I ADORE Luz and Hunter, so just keep putting myself though it lol. I’m glad I can spare you the suffering!

“Your Hands do More Than Hurt” is the only one on there that’s specifically Dadrius centered.

I don’t really get dadrius either 😅 I can see why people enjoy it, but I’m apathetic to it at best. I think it could have been an interesting dynamic if they’d gotten to develop it properly, but like everything else it got rushed by the cancelation. Dude needs to apologize to Hunter tho before I can ever forgive him for being such a dick to a literal child lol “you’re very good at doing exactly as you’re told” HE’S 16, AUTISTIC, ONLY GETS TO LEAVE THE CASTLE ON WEEKENDS, AND WAS RAISED BY THE GUY WHOS BAD ENOUGH THAT YOU CURRENTLY PLOTTING A REBELLION. WHAT DO YOU EXPECT DARIUS???

He does have a significant role in “What We are is the Sum of a Thousand Lies” but in my opinion he’s very well utilized! this fic actually warmed me up to Darius and Hunter’s relationship. Overall it’s been more focused on Luz, Hunter, and Flapjack. Darius’s role in the fic is equal to Eda’s. Definitely worth trying in my opinion! I wasn’t sold on it either until chapter 3 dropped and i was like “OH THIS AUTHOR GETS ME-“ chapter 3 got me hooked 😂

[oryoucouldhavemine]

Hunter and Darius reunite after the Draining Day Ceremony

Hurt/Comfort, 2.3k words

I have no memory of writing this but apparently i wrote it two months ago and just straight up never posted it so enjoy everybody

[braveblackbutterfly]

Please check out my fic if you are interested in reading a romance/drama/T rated/AU/Canon Divergent fic about Amity, Willow, and Luz!

It started off as an amillow ship, but it’s going to ultimately be a willumity ship.

I will try to post more chapters gradually for I do have a part-time job which takes up some of my time to work on my creative projects.

Also if you want to check out my other creative projects, check out my leeann art tag!

Thanks! ^_^

[phoeeling]

love marking a fic as complete.

Summary: The Day of Unity is over. Picking up the pieces is easier said than done.

(sequel to “it was never in the snow”) (Written pre-Season 3.)

[dannydanoninoo]

HUNTLOW WEEK 2022 IS HERE AND I'M ALL UP FOR IT 

[findmeinthefallair]

Ooooooo

Hi All! I'm GoblinQueen (AKA ChildlikeGoblinQueen) and I write TOH fan fiction.

A few things about me:

I have been known to stick with a fandom for a VERY long time, so I'll be riding this train for quite a bit.

Fan fiction has become a really important outlet for me. I have been lucky enough to make some great friends within the fandom, but I am an adult with a full time job and a young family. So just keep that in mind. This is something I do because I enjoy it! I'm not in competition with anyone.

The fear of burnout is real.

I am an avid reader, a big fan of music and pop culture (I incorporate both into my story telling).

Below is a Master List of links to my current and past fics.

Sweet Child O' Mine

^^ Link ^^

cover art by @lovemoroporo !

Years after Belos' defeat and the alliance with the Collector, things have settled into a new normal. Amity and Luz are married and have a young daughter named Azura. Hunter and Willow have also married and have just found out that they are going to become parents!

Hunter looks back on the events leading up to the birth of his and Willow's first child.

Triggered by outside influences which stir fear and doubt within him, Hunter wonders if he is incapable of being a good father given the nature of his own upbringing.

As the pressure builds, Hunter will need to lean on the support of his found family and friends to make it through unsolicited advice, planning a surprise baby shower and the public’s fascination with his past life under Belos in order to protect what is most precious to him.

SCOM is COMPLETE! Below are links to some in-universe stories that do not spoil the main plot.

SCOMVERSE Prequels:

(Before the main story, generally featuring the characters as teenagers developing their relationships and familial bonds.)

Hunter's Trauma One Shots etc:

Back to the beginning. There's one way back to home again. To where I feel forgiven (collab)

The Future's Overdue (collab)

Words like violence (Vee's POV)

If you’re sinking like a stone, carry on. (collab)

Take these broken wings (collab)

I knew the reason I felt hollow.

Early Huntlow relationship stuff. Some fluff and angst etc :

You, Strange as Angels

I Remember skies, reflected in your eyes

Sun says you fly

But traditions I can trace against the child in your face.

Thank You Consequence (Longer, multiple POV story about Hunter's first Thanksgiving after becoming a Noceda)

Huntlow Week Shorties 2023

Parenthood! (Sort of) One shots involving Hunter and Willow being new parents but the baby is yet unnamed.

Believe it or not, hands on a miracle

I Climbed a Mountain and I Turned Around

My Father's Eyes (collab)

Misc:

I'm Telling Y'all it's Sabotage! (Noceda Sibling Shenanigans)

Learn to Fly

Here's a waiver for you to sign (crack fic involving Hettie Cutburn being obsessed with House M.D.)

Monster of the Week: (SCOM Askewverse)

Pre-Scomverse stories where the Hexsquad deals with monsters across realms -- and adolescence (think BtVS ). Some continuity might be a little off, but its basically prequels.

Grimwalker Stories (Scary Tales and other stories involving pre-Belos Grimwalkers.

Other:

Stranger Tides: (My first TOH fic. A Stranger Things inspired retelling of Thanks to Them.)

[sheerakk]

[kolapon-art]

🧵darius & hunter

🧵4.8k words 🧵Hunter doesn't want to burden Darius with his chronic pain so even when he can barely stand upright, he tries his best to hide it. Darius has a thing or two to say about that.

[carpisuns]

Summary: Hunter’s head snapped back toward Willow. Even in freefall, she seemed strangely confident, body poised and relaxed in the air. Her gaze was already there to meet his, like she’d been expecting it, like she’d just been waiting for him to crack.

Willow Park plummeted toward the ground, staring straight at Hunter, smirking.

Or,

Willow is the most ridiculous flirter in the Boiling Isles and Hunter finally manages to flirt back.

Word count: 3791

A/N: For @huntlowweek day 2: training. @rileyclaw did some drawings—click the link to see them at the end of the fic!

The Death-Defying Flirting Methods of Captain Willow Park

Hunter touched down and dismounted his staff, rolling back his shoulders to loosen his aching muscles.

“Good work, team!” Willow said. “I think we’re in great shape for the tournament next month. We could really go all the way!”

She beamed around at them, cheeks flushed, practically glowing. A few locks of hair had escaped from her braids, and she tucked them behind her ears while she glanced Hunter’s way. His breath hitched in his throat, and it had nothing to do with the workout she’d just put them through.

It had only been a few months since the Isles had finally gone back to what could be considered “normal” (as normal as anything could be when the population was recovering from the 50-year reign of an evil witchhunter overlord). But Willow had wasted no time in getting the Emerald Entrails back off the ground. Hunter was grateful for that. He was still figuring out exactly what he wanted to do with his life, now that he had the option to even think about it, but one thing he knew for sure—he loved flyer derby. He loved streaking through the air on his new wolf palisman, Rascal. He loved talking strategy with Skara and dramatically reenacting the highlights with Gus after a game. He’d even befriended Viney’s griffin (well … sort of).

Willow’s eyes found Hunter’s again, a dimple pressed into her cheek like a kiss. All his insides went soft, and a hazy warmth washed over him.

That was what he loved most about flyer derby. Captain Willow Park.

“So are we free?” Gus asked, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Or are you gonna make us do that horrible double-dutch vine jump thing again?”

“Hmm.” Willow gave Clover a thoughtful scratch on the head. “How about we wrap up with a friendly game of two on three?”

Skara and Viney exchanged a Look and folded their arms in unison.

“No way,” Skara said. “You guys always beat us.”

“Well, how about you two and Gus versus me and Hunter?” asked Willow.

Gus shrugged. “That’s cool with me.”

“No, not cool!” Skara tapped her foot impatiently. “We’re not worried about you. It’s those two.”

She jut her chin out toward Hunter and Willow, and behind her, Viney gave a stiff nod.

The tips of Hunter’s ears went warm. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

“I’m talking about your weird, like, vibes.” Skara gestured between them. “You guys are unstoppable! It’s like you can read each others’ minds or something.”

It took all of Hunter’s willpower to keep his eyes from darting to Willow. He liked to think he understood her pretty well. He even indulged in the idea that there was some kind of connection between them—that she knew him just as well as he knew her, that they could know what the other was thinking even without saying it. Sometimes he was so sure that she was giving him a message with just a look. It’s how they survived the last battle with Belos. How they’d won almost every flyer derby game they’d ever played together. Somehow he always knew just where to go and what she wanted him to do.

They made a good team. That much was for sure. But maybe that’s where it ended. Maybe she was just a good captain who communicated well with her team members. And Hunter had always been a good follower (a thought that made him wince internally—but Willow was nothing like Belos, and honestly, he would follow her to the ends of the earth).

Viney stepped forward, hands on her hips. “Look, we all know you and Hunter are our best players. And you have crazy chemistry on the field. It’s not fair for you to always be on the same team. Skara and I aren’t playing unless you two are split up.”

Finally, Hunter cracked. His eyes slipped over to Willow. It was hard to read her expression from here, but he could guess what it looked like, based on the curve of her shoulder and the plant of her feet and the angle she held her staff. He had to give Viney credit for not backing down. He’d been on the receiving end of this particular Willow look, and it was an experience he had actively avoided since then.

A strange sort of pride swelled in his chest. She wanted to be on his team. She liked him. She chose him. She was fighting for him.

“Okay,” Willow said. “We’ll do girls versus boys. Sound good?”

Hunter blinked. She didn’t sound upset at all. Her tone was light and casual, and now that he was looking again, her shoulders were much more relaxed than he’d thought. He must’ve read her wrong. (He tried not to feel disappointed about that, but his heart sank, just a little.)

“Oh, yeah.” Skara grinned, jabbing a finger toward Hunter and Gus. “You guys are going down.”

“Ha! We’ll see about that,” Gus said. “Hunter is our star player, and you don’t even know how much you underestimate the Gusinator.” He struck a dramatic pose, splaying one hand across his chest.

Hunter’s lips slipped into lopsided smile. “Yeah … I would advise against underestimating Gus. I’ve made that mistake before.”

He turned to Gus, who was already waiting with his fist raised. They mimed an explosion with their hands.

“Okay,” Willow said, “quick water break, and then it’s go time.”

A few minutes later, they all jogged back out to the center of the field and grabbed their flags. Hunter stood side by side with Gus, gripping Rascal’s staff firmly.

“Ready?” Willow grinned that heart-stopping, dimple-popping smile of hers. “Let’s fly!”

Hunter kicked off the ground and rocketed into the air, relishing the familiar feeling of the wind in his hair. He’d flown on an artificial staff plenty of times as the Golden Guard, but there was something indescribable about being on a real staff, with his own palisman, with his head bare and his heart light, surrounded by his friends.

One of which was already on his tail, reaching for his flag. He jolted away in a rush of gold—Flapjack’s last gift to him—and grinned at Skara’s groan.

The first part of the game flew by. The field was alight with spell circles and streaks of color. Everyone seemed to be at the top of their game, but no one had managed to steal a flag, let alone make it onto the post. It almost seemed like a deadlock.

Until Willow fell off her staff.

Hunter had no idea how it happened. There didn’t seem to be any reason she would fall. But there she was, plunging toward the earth and what would be certain death, if she weren’t, well, Willow Park.

Hunter tried to pull his focus back to the game. It wasn’t like she needed help. She was more than capable of taking care of herself. In fact, she’d probably find a way to steal his flag on the way down.

But as he hovered in the air, scanning the field, he listened for her spell. Just in case.

Any second now. Any … second …

A jolt of alarm ran through him. She wasn’t doing anything. Why wasn’t she doing anything?

Hunter’s head snapped back toward Willow. Even in freefall, she seemed strangely confident, body poised and relaxed in the air. Her gaze was already there to meet his, like she’d been expecting it, like she’d just been waiting for him to crack.

Willow Park plummeted toward the ground, staring straight at Hunter, smirking.

Hunter swallowed. A quick glance around the field told him no one else was going to catch her. Gus had finally managed to snag Viney’s flag, and Skara was chasing after him as he rushed toward the goal post.

Willow was still falling.

He locked eyes with her again, panic searing through his chest, and even from here could swear he caught the flash of her dimples.

She was dangerously close to the ground now. No one else could save her without his teleporting powers.

He was too far away to see her expression now, but he didn’t need to see her face to know what she was saying.

Catch me. I dare you.

So he did.

She was solid and warm and soft and everywhere. His arms were full of her, and so were his lungs. Even after an hour of training, she still retained that signature earthy, floral scent that never failed to make him a little dizzy. Which seemed kind of unfair, honestly, because Hunter was pretty sure he smelled like old selkigris at this point.

His cheeks blazed at the thought, but if he really did stink that bad, Willow didn’t seem to mind. She settled behind him and hugged him tightly around the middle, pressing her whole front flush against his sweaty back.

It was a good thing Hunter was on his staff, because his legs instantly melted into something akin to a witchling’s first attempt at abomination goo. His heart thundered in his chest, and he wondered if she could feel it against her own.

Willow leaned forward to tuck her chin over his shoulder. Her hair tickled his ears, and her warm breath ghosted over his skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Thanks, Hunter,” she murmured, and a little thrill ran through him, like it always did when he heard his name on her lips. He breathed in her wildflower scent, committing to memory the weight of her arms around him.

“Don’t mention it,” he murmured back.

“Oh my Titan, are you okay, Willow?” Viney hovered above them, followed closely by Gus and Skara.

“I’m fine,” Willow said. “Thanks to Hunter.”

He could hear the smile in her voice—a teasing lilt, light as a feather, like it was a joke they were all in on.

“Yeah, it’s a good thing he got there in time,” Skara added. “You would’ve been toast!”

Hunter frowned. “Well—”

“Yep!” Willow said quickly. “He saved me.”

Hunter attempted to twist around to look at her, but her arms just tightened around him. “Captain, you don’t have to—”

“You’re welcome, by the way!” Gus cut in, waving his arms. “For winning the whole game without you!”

Hunter glanced up at the goal post. Sure enough, three flags waved from the spikes.

“Oh,” he said. “Nice work.”

Skara sniffed. “I still think illusions are cheating.”

“Why? Too clever for you?” Gus grinned.

“Whatever.” Skara tossed her ponytail. “I gotta get home.”

“Yeah, I gotta go too,” Viney said. “Puddles needs a bath today. See ya!”

Skara and Viney both waved and took off across the field.

Hunter touched down on the field. For a moment, Willow kept holding him. Then Clover buzzed over, and she slowly slid her arms away.

(Was he crazy, or did it seem … reluctant?)

“Alright, I’ve done enough girlbossing for one day,” Gus said. “I’m outta here too.”

Hunter scooped Rascal onto his shoulder as he transformed back. “Uh … enough what now?”

“It’s a human word. Luz taught me.”

“Are you sure you’re using it right?”

Gus shrugged. “I’ll catch you guys at school tomorrow, okay?”

“Wait!” Hunter said. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay? Shoot.”

“Um.” Hunter glanced back at Willow, who was whispering to Clover. “Let’s grab our bottles.”

They strode back to the benches. As soon as Hunter was sure Willow was out of earshot, he turned to Gus.

“Why do you think she did that?” he asked in a rush.

“Okay, who did what now?”

“Willow. She made me catch her.”

Gus shook his head. “Dude, what are you talking about? She didn’t make you catch her. She just needed help.”

“No, she didn’t!”

“She was falling to her death!”

“She was not! She could’ve saved herself. I mean, why didn’t she magic up a big plant to cushion the fall or something?”

“I don’t know—maybe she was panicking! Falling from a billion feet in the sky tends to make people panic!” Gus snatched up his bottle from the bench—some bright orange human drink called Alligatorade.

“Not Willow,” Hunter said.

“Yes, Willow.”

Hunter folded his arms and gave Gus his best “Bro, are you serious” look. “Have you met her?”

“Yes, I’ve met her. And I’ve known her for a lot longer than you have, by the way.” Gus took a drink and wiped his mouth. “Look, man, I know you have a big thing for Willow, and maybe that obscures your judgment a little.”

Hunter hoped his ears didn’t look as red as they felt, but Rascal’s little chuff in his ear told him he wasn’t hiding anything.

“But I’m telling you,” Gus went on, “as Willow’s best friend of many years … she has limits, okay? She gets scared sometimes. She panics. And she definitely doesn’t purposefully fall off her staff to make her crush catch her.”

Hunter’s ears had to be glowing at this point because they felt like they were on fire. “Her crush?” he choked. “I—I’m her crush?”

Gus considered him over the top of his Alligatorade. “Titan, you’re both helpless.”

“Wait—hang on—so she was …” Hunter swallowed. “Flirting?”

Gus rolled his eyes. “Hunter, a playful shoulder touch is flirting. Plummeting to your death is not.”

But Hunter was barely listening, because he was remembering the smirk on Willow’s face as she waited for him to come.

Flirting.

“I mean, yeah, Willow flirts with you plenty,” Gus said. “But this was … not that. Except maybe the part where she was, like, nuzzling into your neck. That was a bit much.”

Hunter shook his head a little. “I—yeah. Okay. Thanks for the advice, Gus.”

“What advice? All I said was that almost dying doesn’t count as flirting.”

“Sure.” Hunter glanced over Gus’s shoulder, back to Willow, who still talking to Clover.

“Actually—you want my advice? Just ask her out already. I’m tired of this. Also, I’m leaving.” Gus stepped onto his staff. “See you, Hunter.”

“Bye,” Hunter said faintly. And then Gus was gone, leaving Hunter alone with Willow.

He walked slowly back to the middle of the field. She watched him approach, setting Clover on her shoulder.

“Hey, Captain.” He hesitated. “Are you staying to train more?”

“Actually, I was hoping you could give me a ride home,” she said.

“Uh.” He glanced at Clover. “Why?”

“The fall scared Clover. And she’s tired. I think she could use the break.”

As if to prove the point, Clover slumped dramatically on Willow’s shoulder with a sad buzz.

Hunter had seen his fair share of liars, and Clover was the worst liar he’d ever seen.

He cleared his throat. “Sure. We’d be happy to give you a lift.”

Rascal scampered down Hunter’s arm, transforming into staff form.

“Alright.” He swung his leg over the staff. “Hop on.”

Willow climbed on behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist once again.

“Hold on tight,” he told her (pointlessly).

“Oh, I will,” she answered (flirtingly???).

Then Hunter kicked off, and they were back in the air.

The ride to Willow’s house was quiet. Hunter searched desperately for something to say, but with Willow hugging him like that, his brain was mush anyway. She rested her chin on his shoulder again, and he thought she might speak, but she didn’t—just let out a small noise somewhere between a hum and a sigh.

Hunter didn’t mind the silence. It was nice, being here with Willow, with Bonesborough scrolling by beneath them. The afternoon sun spilled over the rooftops, lining every edge in gold, and the breeze ruffled through his hair, drying the sweat from his forehead. He breathed in deeply, taking it all in, and behind him, he felt Willow do the same, her chest swelling in unison with his.

Soon his nerves had settled, and he’d grown very comfortable with the weight of Willow’s arms around him. Her house came into view much too quickly, and he racked his brain for an excuse to keep flying, but nothing came. All he could do was nudge Rascal to slow down to prolong the ride, if only a little.

He landed in front of her house, at the end of the winding stone path up to the door. Just like last time, there was a second’s delay before he felt her arms slip free.

“Um, do you want to come in for a second?” she asked, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Say hi to my dads?”

“Oh. Sure.”

Together they started down the path, past mounds of bright flowers—Willow’s handiwork, of course. They both walked slowly, and he had to believe that she was dragging this goodbye out just as much as he was.

“That was a good practice,” he offered.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Really, really good.”

“I think the whole team works well together.”

“Definitely.” She paused. “But I think Skara and Viney had a point. Some team members work even better together. Don’t you think?”

Hunter turned to her as they walked, catching the glint in her eye and the barest hint of a dimple on her cheek. (Flirting.)

“Really?” he found himself saying. “Like who?”

“You,” she said.

“Me?” He feigned surprise. “Me and who?”

“Well, you and—and—”

She tripped and nearly faceplanted into her flower patch, but Hunter had quick reflexes. He lunged forward and caught her, one arm supporting her back, like a dip in a dance.

Willow’s mouth fell into a tiny o. She blinked up at him behind a lock of hair that had fallen into her eyes.

“Careful, Captain,” he said lightly. “People might start to think you’re … doing this on purpose.”

Pink dusted her cheeks, and she looked so ridiculously cute that something came over him—something reckless and shameless and wanting. He leaned in a little closer, voice dropping to a murmur.

“If you want me to hold you,” he said, “you just have to ask.”

At this, Willow’s face exploded in pink, and tiny blossoms sprouted from her hair. Hunter felt his own cheeks grow warm, but his brazen spike of confidence hadn’t quite subsided yet, so he kept her there a moment longer, allowing his face to break into a grin.

It was then that he realized just how close they were, noses just inches apart. He stared into her eyes—a vibrant green, like her garden, like her magic, gilded with the light of a sinking sun.

The green vanished with a blink, and when she opened her eyes again, they darted down his face.

Hunter mirrored her, dropping his gaze to her lips.

Immediately, his heart jumped into his throat, and the tips of his ears lit up. But he swallowed down his panic and forced his body to moved calmly as he brought Willow slowly back to her feet.

She stood there, cheeks blazing, mouth agape, with the sunlight drenching her in gold. That familiar hazy warmth swept through him, making his heart thrum and his fingers twitch by his sides.

“I—” Willow blinked and shook her head. “I gotta go.”

“I thought I was coming in with you.”

“Um, actually, now’s not a good time. Maybe later.”

“Oh. OK.”

Willow’s fingers closed around the doorknob, but she didn’t twist it. Instead, she turned back to look at him, with sunbeams caught in her hair and roses blooming on her cheeks.

“Bye, Hunter,” she said breathlessly. He caught the glimmer of one more dazzling, dimpled smile, and then she disappeared through the door.

For a moment, Hunter stood frozen on the path. His mouth felt suddenly dry, limbs weak and shaking, like his sudden flare of boldness had just been drained away.

“Rascal,” he croaked, “what the hell just happened?”

---

When Willow got out of the shower, her scroll had no fewer than nineteen messages from Gus.

illusion_master: ok i’ve been thinking

illusion_master: what actually made you fall off your staff today

illusion_master: ?????

illusion_master: like. no one was even near you

illusion_master: hunter said he thought you fell on purpose and i told him that was stupid

illusion_master: because it IS stupid

illusion_master: but….is he right?????

illusion_master: did you really fall off your staff ON PURPOSE just so he would have to catch you????

illusion_master: willow were you actually FLIRTING

illusion_master: IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK FLIRTING IS

illusion_master: ANSWER ME PARK

illusion_master: your silence is very incriminating

illusion_master: i dont know what is more shocking. the fact that you exhibited such loser behavior or the fact that hunter was right about something for once in his life

illusion_master: was it worth it willow. was nearly dying worth it so you could get a noseful of hunter’s sweaty armits. titan

illusion_master: honestly you two deserve each other. you’re both so embarrassing

illusion_master: i hope you had fun on your romantic afternoon staff ride that you think i don’t know about

illusion_master: TITAN

illusion_master: it’s a good thing he’s so stupid in love with you or this would be too pitiful to watch. in fact im having a hard time watching as it is

illusion_master: titan!!!!!

Willow stared at the second-to-last message, feeling like she was about to explode.

he’s so stupid in love with you

Not even her dad’s breathing exercise was helping her with that one.

She flopped back on her bed with a huff. Even fresh from the shower, with wet hair clinging to her shoulders, she felt ridiculously overheated. Titan.

She’d been flirting with him for months. Since their days in the human realm. Honestly, she’d probably been flirting with him since the day they met. But he’d never really flirted back. He usually just blushed and didn’t say anything.

But she knew he was getting the message. Hunter always got the message. He liked her. She was sure of it. And he had to know that she liked him back. She figured she just needed to be wait. Take it slow. Give him time.

Willow considered herself a pretty patient person. That was kind of a requirement for plant magic, anyway. Plants were all about slow growth.

But even plant witches run out of patience. Sometimes, if a plant refuses to flirt back at you, you have to take drastic measures. Like falling a hundred feet in the air, for example.

It really wasn’t that big of a deal. She knew he would catch her. It was barely even a risk.

… Okay, she had risked her life just a tiny bit. But honestly?

It was nothing compared to the deadly experience of Hunter being smooth.

If you want me to hold you, you just have to ask.

Willow buried her face in her pillow and screamed.

[drabbles-of-writing]

Pretending Not to See Your Ghost

AO3

Chapters: 1, 3

Summary: Darius has begun to notice a  few...𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴 between Hunter and his old mentor. From  appearance, to speech, to the smallest of characteristics, he always  swears he'll blink, and his mentor will be standing right where Hunter  once was, as though nothing had ever changed.

But he's sure it's only a coincidence.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Hunter, he learned, was terrible at learning how to sew.

This was found out, rather embarrassingly (for Hunter, that is), when Darius noticed his own sewing kit was missing. And, going off on a hunch, he knocked on Hunter’s door—to find him, on the floor, strewn together in a jumble of threads and fabric, staring like a deer in the staff-light.

“...you know there are videos you can look up, yes?” Darius tried, slowly, looking Hunter up and down. “That was partially the point of the scroll.”

“Uh,” Hunter blinked, “I-I thought…I could do it on my own…?”

“Practice only makes perfect when you have an idea of what you’re doing.” Darius sighed, stepping in, much to the gleeful chirps of Hunter’s palisman, who was perched safely on his bed. “Let’s just get that off of you.”

And, to his surprise, Hunter didn’t complain. Just sadly held out his arm for Darius to snip away the strings, doing nothing more than set the rest of the supplies back in neat order. He seemed more surprised by Darius staying to offer his assistance (the boy was going to stab his own eye out at this rate) than the nonplussed reaction to his thievery.

Of course, that had to be when the more…alarming acknowledgments began to set in for Darius. The most being that…well, realistically, he always knew this, but…Hunter was a kid.

Stupid thing to say, he knows, but he had no other way to describe it. Hunter, since the very day he was announced to exist at all by the Emperor, was simply the nephew. He was always just the spoiled brat, just trying too hard, just an annoyance, just Hunter.

The entire time Darius tried to walk Hunter through sewing his torn cloak together, the boy talked, exclusively, about his palisman. 

In that one session, which really only lasted about an hour, he learned the palisman was named Flapjack, he’d previously lived with the Bat Queen, kept pulling on Hunter’s hair, loved sunflower seeds more than any other, had many opinions about Hunter’s sleeping habits, and—well, just about everything else. 

Darius hadn’t asked a single question about that palisman. He’d figured Hunter wouldn’t have answered, considering he had to know what would happen if he was found to be hiding him. He had assumed Hunter would keep up the stoic, petty silence. There had been no other reason for him to expect anything else.

He found it harder to get Hunter to stay quiet than to start talking. Not that he tried to keep him quiet, but—you get the idea.

Hunter asked a million questions, and Darius was willing to bet he wasn’t even expecting answers for half of them. What do palismen normally eat? Are they really as good as an artificial staff? Can they be repaired if scarred? Do they always complain this much? Do all of them talk to their witches?

Darius supposed if he didn’t want so many questions, he shouldn’t have answered each one Hunter threw his way. Then again, he was much too stunned, and much too surprised by the change of pace, to ever consider it.

“You’d do better asking Raine,” Darius had said, at one point, finding that he seemed to be doing most of the work sewing up the cape, Hutner much too busy talking a mile a minute, “I never got to have a palisman, but they did.”

“You didn’t?” Hunter blinked. “But Hexside lets its students have palismen.”

“My time at Hexside was far different from your friends.” Darius said simply, ignoring Hunter’s sputtering about them being acquaintances, not friends. “They were stricter. And I joined the Emperor’s Coven much sooner than them, I had no reason to ever get one.”

“Oh,” Hunter said, stroking his finger down Flapjack’s head, blinking at the cloak in Darius’s hand, “did you ever want one?”

(“Don’t you want to get one?” Jasper asked, ear flicking, as though it were something normal to ask.

“And do what?” Darius scoffed, hunching his shoulders. “Wait for it to get taken from me?”

“I’d help you hide it.” He insisted, smiling in a crooked, mischievous way.

“You just want a palisman for yourself.” Darius accused, and Jasper only shrugged.

“What? So I think they’re cool, big deal. They’d make a neat pet.”

“They’re not pets, you daft—”)

“Suppose I might have.” Darius said evenly. “But there was just no good time. Are you going to pay attention, or not?”

“Right!” Hunter sat up like a rod, startling Flapjack as he tried to lean forward over his knees. “I’m watching, I’m paying attention. Should I take notes?”

“We’re not doing homework on sewing.” Darius scoffed, though he smiled. “I’m not that cruel.”

“I’m good at homework, though.”

“That’s not something to boast about, little prince.”

For that, Darius received a rather pathetic pout. Not that Hunter would ever call it that, of course.

It probably shouldn’t have disturbed him to see such…a normal, dumb, kid-like expression on the boy. He’d heard about scouts mistaking Hunter for some troublesome kid back when he briefly went missing, and he remembered scoffing at the idiocy of the Coven.

He tried not to stare out of the corner of his eye. Tried to keep his eyes on the cloak and his words on directing where Hunter’s hands should go, blocking out just about everything else.

He supposed he was just a little too harsh on the scouts. Looking back on it now…well, he probably would’ve made the same mistake, too.

[disregardcanon]

here’s a snippet of an owl house fic i never got around to finishing between thanks to them and for the future. it was about willow’s clearly repressed stress in thanks for them and i didn’t continue it because the show handled it very well IN for the future and made it unnecessary. enjoy!

Willow Sways When the Wind Blows

title is from half a witch willow from the owl house fan musical

Or: Willow is trying hard to cling to her confidence, to be the person who makes things easier (not harder) on Camila and all of her friends. But that’s difficult when she feels like the reason that they’re stuck here.

here’s where the fic started looooollll i have no idea what “hunter’s advice” was here either. probably something very mentally ill

Maybe Willow shouldn’t be taking Hunter’s advice at face value. She really likes him and values his thoughts, but he’s also the child soldier-iest of all of them. The only member of their group who might have a more tragic backstory than him is Vee, and even that’s a pretty close competition. 

Willow has two loving parents at home. She’s recently discovered and embraced her own powers. If anyone should be doing alright, it should be Willow. She has to be for the sake of the rest of them, who all have much better reasons to be upset than she does. 

If she knows anything about Luz (and she knows many things about Luz) it’s that Luz will assure Willow that it isn’t her fault. But Willow also knows that this will come with the caveat of Luz taking the blame onto herself. (And Luz Noceda does not need to put another bit of guilt on her own chest)

Gus has enough going on right now without adding worrying about Willow to his list. He should be allowed to grieve. He’s lost his dad (maybe forever), and he’s so much younger than they are. 

Amity would understand, but it would come at the price of any respect that Willow has won from her. Amity’s increased care and understanding would end up looking like condescension, no matter how hard Amity tries for it not to. That’s just how Amity is.

And Vee? Willow barely knows her. She thinks that the girl seems trustworthy enough, but it seems like such a silly thing to lay at the basilisk's feet. Yes, I know that you were the result of terrible experimentation and imprisoned and tortured in Belos’s castle. I know that before you met Camila Noceda, no one had ever cared for you. I know that you were terrified to lose your new mother once she found out how you’d replaced Luz and planned to live her life, lying to Camila for the entire time. 

But can you please feel sorry for me because all of this is my fault and I’m not as good at anything as I try to convince people I am? Please and thank you xoxoxo