No Because It IS In The Fact That Belos Had Moments Where He Was Kind To Hunter. The Gentleness Of An

thinking ab the similarities of luz and hunter and how they are so different in their experiences and yet so alike.

they are both so desperate for acceptance. for acknowledgement of who they are, who they want to be – for love, given without terms, unconditional. to be seen, in the light that is all their own, without being asked to cut off corners, pieces of themselves that aren't ... acceptable, by most, that would be easier if they weren't there.

their stories are different and yet their hearts are the same. they want to be strong, brave, enough to get through the next thing, and the next, and the next – still holding on to a hurt that makes them. that changed them, fundamentally, so long ago. how it still changes them today. how there is no separation, even still, even here, in the light of the human world, bright enough to dream by.

so can you see it, the way they are tectonic plates, shifting up against one another, holding up and together entire worlds? the weight of responsibility, of what it means (and what it is) holding on to hope. what it takes from you, and how you have learned not to talk about it, because who else would understand? and how would you hold yet another piece of it, too heavy for your hands?

the earthquakes that would result in them butting heads. the way the story has always led to the parallels of things. the way brothers and siblings will eventually come to this point, the event horizon of hurt and hope. the way the bones of it have always been lying in wait, to return to this, right here - what becomes of us now?

the way it was always going to come to this. the story doesn't know any other way. so it will do it again, it will do it over, and over, and over - until it can get it right.

(including a small snippet of a vague chapter intro:)

could i actually write my fics w/ all this energy after wad? yes. am i going to just brush off this cute lil url and think ab opening a lil blog for all my lil snippets n thoughts ?

love writing belos even though there is such a difficulty to it? the haughtiness of it. the melodrama. the ever-constant feeling of everything else being inferior to him. the carefulness of it at the same time, like a craft, a honed weapon.

there is such a calm terror to his tone? he doesn't stress his words often, but the intensity is there throughout. he speaks like a preacher, always on the side that knows more, knows better. each word is specially chosen for the most precise of messages, vague and specific and layered alike. never a mistake, always a parable.

even his outbursts only come through expressing more intense emotion, and there comes the stress of things, syllables sharper and tone more volatile, hard in it's setness; like a story that cannot be moved from it's predestined ending. he's so removed from his emotions, from his humanity, that you can literally pick it apart in his speech and speaking patterns.

still feeling emo about grimwalkers

is he a witch hunter or hunter...the witch? Was every grimwalker named Hunter?

i am putting together the pieces. i am hurting. the pieces are there, bc it's the same look. it's the same smile.

it's always, in his story, about sacrifice. it's about giving yourself up to a cause bigger than you, what you have been meant for, made for? as both solider and grimwalker; to know the hurt you go through is for the greater good. to know, weighted and assured and certain, that you are making the right decision, no matter the cost.

because nothing is greater than giving everything you have for the people you love. for the opportunity to help them, save them.

it's bravery in the face of your fear. it's about doing what you think is best no matter the consequences. it's a similar feeling - and yet they are totally different, coming from entirely separate places.

it's the same expression but the based emotions are different, the intentions are different, because hunter is different.

and the story, for him, here – has finally, finally, changed.

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?

I don't think I've ever posted this, but this comic I've been commissioned rotates in my head every so often

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

i do also truly, truly believe we deserved some final parallel completion w/ hunter and belos. to be created by and outlive your own creator / your family / your "purpose" / your blood? for all of the guards before him, for caleb, for every kindness they should have all been given in their smattering of years before they learned of the truth and were killed for it.

yeah i am one for the idea of hunter being the one to have the final strike. this is not me saying i do not absolutely ADORE the way they did it in the finale. it was absolutely so badass and i do love them but oooooh something in me wanted hunter finally able to show his growth to the man who abused him for so many years. to say look at how far i have come from your impressions. look at me and how you have failed to make me into a monster, like you. how i have healed in your absence. how i have become so much more than you could have made me, and how far i will go from here.

to be made in the hurt of a bone you don't even remember. to hold onto things your body knows but you do not. to finally have that piece be laid to rest after so long.

goodbye, uncle. for your sake, i hope your god is kinder than you.

putting my head in my hands. the grief. the grief of not knowing now where you belong .... of trying to find a place and making it for yourself and yet nothing fits the same ....