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:)
so like, remember how in agony of a witch lilith kidnaps luz to get eda to come to the castle for her witch's duel? just before twilight, at the end of the beginning of things, stuck in a room, lost to the story and attempting every escape plan she can think of - luz has an unexpected visitor. he says he’s the golden guard, whoever that's supposed to be.
i published a fic! it's a what-if if hunter and luz had met while she was being held at the castle before the witches duel in agony of a witch. something soft and silly with a lot of fun foreshadowing. enjoy!
he would sacrifice himself for them. listen to me. listen to me, he would, he did, and even still he would give everything. he would choose to give everything.
do you understand what i'm saying? he would choose.
everything he has ever lived for has been chosen for him. a guiding light to live by, a glowing halo of rightness that was always out of reach. never crowned, but close. always having to earn and work and prove to be there. to have the the right to it.
with the others? he's - he doesn't have to. for the first time, he doesn't have to work for their care, their attention. he can just be. he can be whatever he wants. do you realize how insane that must feel for him.
what do you mean you don't want me as a tool. i can do things, i can give you things, i have worked my whole life to be the sharp edge of a blade and you want me to be soft? you want me to be whatever i am, however i come? how does that make any sense?
to never have that, and now do, so fast and so decisive it must feel like leaving something integral behind you for it? here, in it, almost a near-thing, like dusk, like dawn, the cusp of everything new?
of course he'd give them everything he has. they'd do the same for him. and what do you do, with that, other than do it first? to grasp the chance with both hands and say thank you for finding me?
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
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?
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 ?
the nocedas have a peanut butter jar that is just hunter's because he constantly eats out of it with a spoon. it's his. he's marking his territory with germs. he's got an eating disorder and he's doing his best to just eat something sometimes so they're happy with it.
luz pranks him by bedazzling his name on the side of one of the jars in bright pink and he may, accidentally, be very careful when washing it out when he's finished with it, keeping it with his things afterwards. it's fine, it's just not necessary to trash something she worked hard on, is all. he totally doesn't like it, or anything
hello! i'm fable, they/them, twenty-six, and this account is all about the owl house interpretations & talk, with some edits and fics sprinkled in there as well.
most of the stuff here is going to be hunter focused, but general owl house vibes are absolutely around as well. always open for questions and talk! enjoy your stay <3
my posted fics are on ao3 as testdrive, for that httyd lore.
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
still feeling emo about grimwalkers
is he a witch hunter or hunter...the witch? Was every grimwalker named Hunter?
here is a site of consciousness / the heart laid bare.
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