These For The Future Boards. Going Insane.

sometimes u write things and u gotta scream about it. you gotta just wail a little bit. let the demons out.

still feeling emo about grimwalkers

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

hello i do still be working on my *checks notes* seventeen hunter fics in progress. no i have not finished any of them. yes i am mentally ill ✌️

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.

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!

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 ....

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

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:)

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

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?