#it was enough just to know fox Is hunter and then to have flapjack

[edalynn]

.

[crimeronan]

re: raine and hunter bonding over their belos-flavoured trauma, how do you think they discuss palismen?

this is brought by the reveal that raine's violas, like the head of it, is their palisman. but that viola has been smashed open TWICE. we know from owlbert that having a staff cracked hurts, so having what is essentially 90% of your body ripped open has gotta hurt. (hypothetically it might not work the same way but shhh)

palisman are an extension of the self, so to me its a representation of how raine has worked themself to the bone for this revolution, literally becoming a tool of progress. parallel this with hunter and flapjack, as the latter allows the former to be something more than a tool of the empire, a real boy with hopes and dreams.

both of their palismen were hurt by belos, in different ways.

im thinking that if the fox didn't have a staff pre-belos, it was among the first things hunter made when he got his carving technique down. something something moving on something something if not for flapjack at least for someone else.

does this make sense? i am but a seething pot of Themes and Connections

OUGH GOD YOU'RE SO FUCKING RIGHT ABOUT ALL OF THIS. I'M TRYING TO THINK OF SOMETHING USEFUL TO ADD BUT THIS IS ALL SO GOOD I WANT EVERYONE TO SEE IT IMMEDIATELY

i'm really liking the idea of raine's palisman getting to spend some time running around doing silly fox antics and getting into low-stakes trouble once belos is gone bc they've been in disguise for so long that getting to be silly is a Relief. in parallel to raine getting to breathe and relax for the first time in Ages after making sacrifice after sacrifice after sacrifice and being tortured for fuck only knows how long.

also very fond of the mental image of raine's fox often scampering off to be a nuisance to hunter specifically. probably others too like eda and luz and darius and the CATS but hunter more consistently than the others. and the concept that the fox has been left without a staff after damage to the viola is making me crazy

because i IMAGINE that raine's fox keeps gravitating toward hunter out of concern and recognition of his grief, the same way the other palismen do. and i imagine that hunter ranges from irritable to grudgingly accepting of this, because it's very difficult to resist a cute creature who keeps winding around your legs and/or neck like an obnoxious cat. and then upon realizing there's no staff, hunter's entire annoyed demeanor vanishes Immediately, like:

hunter: ...you're hurt??

the fox: ...UH OH. WE AREN'T SUPPOSED TO SHOW EMOTIONAL VULNERABILITY. I GOTTA GO RUN BACK TO RAINE RIGHT NOW IMMEDIATELY

hunter: WHAT. YOU GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE-

and then hunter chases them all the way back to raine, whereupon the convo is just like

hunter: WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ANYONE YOUR PALISMAN IS HURT?????

raine: NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS

hunter: ARE YOU FOR REAL RIGHT NOW. ARE YOU SERIOUS.

raine: OKAY LOOK I. FORGOT TELLING PEOPLE WAS AN OPTION. WE'VE BEEN MANAGING FINE FOR A WHILE. MY HEART STILL SEIZES UP WHEN THEY CLIMB ON MY HEAD WHILE I'M OUT IN PUBLIC WE'RE MANAGING

hunter, clearly having an epiphany: okay but. you guys shouldn't be dealing with stuff alone. there are people who'd want to know

raine, clearly Deeply pained about being called out: i wish this was not so obviously something you need to hear yourself so i could argue with a child instead. ok. perhaps you are right.

hunter: yeah. i am 🥰

and then yeah hunter carves a new staff when he's confident enough. i think it would take a while bc he'd be nervous about screwing it up but raine and their palisman are both incredibly patient so that's fine

incredible content thank you.

[fandomsandflyingstingrays]

Stepping Stones: Chapter 5

Hunter smiles to himself as he ties his apron. He started working on it after his first carving lesson a month ago and just finished it last week, and between Camila’s guidance and Darius’s, he knows it’s his best piece yet. A perfect fit, with enough pockets for all of his tools, and little patches chosen by each of his friends to make him happy every time he looks at it. 

“So?” He spreads his arms, allowing Dell to take it in. “What do you think?”

Dell smiles. “It’s perfect, Hunter. I’m glad you finished it for today.”

The words are warm, but they send a shiver down Hunter’s spine nonetheless. “Why today?”

Dell’s smile widens. “Because today is the day you’re going to carve your first palisman.”

The shiver was right. Hunter takes a step back, fervently shaking his head. “No. No. I keep telling you, I’m not ready—“

“And I suspect you’ll continue telling me you’re not ready until you’re as old and gray as I am.” Dell steps forward, putting his hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “You have to start sometime, little bird.” 

Hunter swallows. Usually the endearment can reach him when nothing else does, but this time it’s just a reminder. This time it just strengthens his resolve. “I’m sorry,” he says, stepping back again. “I can’t.”

Dell shrugs. “Well, I couldn’t let you off the hook even if I wanted to. This wasn’t my request.”

Hunter blinks. “What?”

“It was mine.”

Hunter turns to find Raine ducking under a palistrom branch, their broken violin in hand. Hunter and the Clawthornes planted the little blue seed barely a month ago, and already the tree towers over the grove. Seeing how fast it’s grown gives Hunter hope— but also a squirming, hot guilt at the knowledge of just how many palismen Belos must have consumed for there to be so few of these trees that grow so quickly. Another reason why Hunter isn’t equipped for this. 

“Trust me,” he says to Raine. “I’m the last person you want to carve your new palisman. Isn’t there someone else you can ask?”

They shrug. “Probably. But I still want you.”

“Raine, seriously. I’ll mess it up. I’ll give it five feet, or lopsided eyes…”

“So what?”

“So what?”

Raine comes to sit on a log and motions for Hunter to sit beside them. He does, keeping his eyes on the ground. 

“Hunter,” Raine says. “Do you want to know why I want you to be the one to carve my new palisman?”

“Because we both know what it’s like to lose our first ones?”

“Well, yes. But also because I know you won’t make it perfect.”

That gets Hunter’s gaze to snap to them.

“Hunter,” Raine says, “do you think I’m a good witch?”

“Of course!”

“And yet,” Raine says, tapping their scars, “most people would say I’m not flawless, huh?” They reach out and put one hand on Dell’s scarred fingertips. “Same goes for him.” They drop their other hand to Hunter’s arm, gently running it over the scar there. “And you. Does that make us any less worthy of our magic? Our lives?”

“Not you and Dell—“

“The correct answer is just no, Hunter.” 

Raine is staring at him with such intensity that he knows there’s only one thing to say. “Okay,” he whispers, his eyes welling in spite of his best efforts. He turns away quickly, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

Raine moves their hand from his arm to his shoulder. “I want a palisman that reflects that, that shows that you don’t have to be perfect to be powerful. And no one understands that better than you.”

Flapjack wasn’t flawless, Hunter recalls, remembering the little scar over his eye. The one that matches Luz’s. He’s doing this for Flapjack, isn’t he? Flapjack never cared about perfection. 

“Okay,” Hunter finds himself saying again, and the brilliant grins Dell and Raine exchange make him feel almost good about it. Dell retrieves a piece of wood, and Hunter turns back to Raine. 

“Do you have an animal in mind?”

Raine nods, extending their violin to him. “I carved the scroll to look like Lightning,” they say. “I’d like another fox, I think.”

“Do you have any pictures of Lightning I could use as a reference?”

Raine shakes their head. “I don’t want to replace them. I’ll paint this one a different color— brown, I think, like the violin, instead of white Lightning was. And I like the idea of them looking different. I just…”

“Want an animal that feels familiar.” Hunter nods. On the occasions when he thinks about a new palisman, it’s always a bird. 

“All right.” Hunter looks from the wood to the violin and back again. Takes a deep breath. Then another. Makes the first cut.

Carving takes the rest of the day. As has been their custom, Willow and Gus come by after school, but Dell waves them away after they greet Hunter. Hunter’s glad his head is tilted down so that he can hide his blush. Clearly, Dell has noticed how shaky his hands get whenever Willow gets too close. After human school lets out, Luz comes by, and Dell permits her to stay. She puts on a playlist of Hunter’s favorite human songs, and he finds himself falling into a rhythm, only taking a break to eat when Camila brings dinner. 

Finally, just as the last rays of light are disappearing, it’s finished. Hunter has only allowed himself to focus on one piece at a time, and his heart hammers in his chest as he takes his first look at the complete fox. 

He cringes. None of the legs are symmetrical, and one ear is significantly smaller than the other. “I can try and make you another one,” he offers, bracing himself as he looks at Raine—

—Only to find them looking down at the palisman with the widest smile he’s ever seen them wear.

Luz crouches behind Hunter, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. “That’s the exact face you used to make when you looked at Flap,” she whispers, and Hunter swallows against the sudden lump in his throat. 

“Hunter,” Raine says, looking him in the eyes, “you would have to pry this beautiful creature from my cold, dead hands.”

The clearing erupts into laughter, and Hunter slumps against Luz in relief. Raine takes the palisman, stroking it gently, then glances at Hunter again. “Is it okay if I give you a hug?”

Hunter wraps his arms around them in answer, and Raine pulls him in tightly. The gratitude in their embrace seems too real for Hunter to be imagining it, and he allows two tears to roll down his cheeks. So many palismen he helped Belos destroy. But now there’s one palisman that exists because of him.

“I think you’ve got a real talent,” Raine tells him, pulling back. “You might be able to tutor some of your classmates like Eda did eventually.”

Hunter finds himself smiling at the thought.

“Are you excited?” Raine asks. “To start at Hexside?”

There’s just one month now until his first day. “Yes,” he says, pleased to find the word feels true. “It’s been nice, living somewhere that doesn’t have such strong memories of Belos. And my family— Luz and Camila and Vee, they’ve been great. But this feels right. I love being able to learn about all the different kinds of magic, and to see them come alive. I get the feeling I’ll get more of that at Hexside.”

“You will,” Raine promises. 

“And—“ Hunter pauses. Considers. Decides to go for it. “Is living with you and Darius still an option? When I start school?”

“Are you kidding? Yes!” Raine cries, so loudly that everyone in the clearing glances at them. Lowering their voice, they continue, “you can move in whenever you want. We could even do a sort of trial, if you’d like. Maybe start by doing one night a week here and see how it feels?”

Hunter lets out a breath and nods. “That sounds really good.”

“Good. I can talk to Camila about it, if you’d like.”

“That would be nice.”

“Do you think it will be okay with her? Letting you go sometimes?”

“Oh yeah. She hasn’t said anything, but I know money’s been tight, and I think she’s a little tired of only having guests over whenever I’m here with Dell.”

“She doesn’t mind that,” Luz promises, coming to sit on Hunter’s other side. Of course she was eavesdropping. 

“Still. You guys are wonderful, but—“

“But this is where you need to be.”

“At least for now.”

“Well.” Luz bumps his shoulder. “Our door is always open, and we’re not going anywhere. Well. You and I are going places, but in the ambitious-metaphor way, not the literal-travel way.”

Hunter laughs, glancing at Raine’s palisman again. They're not perfect, but Raine loves them. Hunter isn’t perfect, but he is loved. He is going places.

“Yeah,” he says, resting his head against Luz’s. “I know.”

[thiswasinevitableid]

15. Nymph SternClay alternately, Stern is a Dryad residing in a huge forest where a strange creature, similar to humans but different (aka Bigfoot) wanders alone. Ever curious, Stern seeks to understand why this beautiful creature doesn’t seem to have anyone else, and even tries to hide from the few humans who venture deep enough into the woods. Can they be alone together?

Here you go! It’s SFW

Joseph knows he can’t spend every hour in the Great Oak, reading and researching the movements of humans. He still struggles to justify his fascination with creatures that have little contact with his kind. Some of his peers go so far as to insist humans are a myth, or the result of the odd dryad or naiad seeing a bear from the wrong angle. 

This is false, of course, and humans have been getting bold lately, making paths and taking walks deeper and deeper into the trees. This means that dryads assigned to security roles must spend at least six hours a day in their tree to make sure no one threatens their home. Joseph is in a Copper Beech not far from the GreenBriar river, mentally drawing up his to-do list for the week, when heavy footsteps catch his attention. 

At first he thinks it’s a particularly hairy human tromping through the underbrush, decked out in a ratty flannel shirt and what he’s heard humans refer to as “sweatpants.”  But his feet are bare, his limbs and face covered in dark, copper-flecked fur, and his ears are more pointed than those of a human. He leans against Josephs’ tree, drumming his fingers on it as he surveys the area, massive back-pack slung over his shoulders. There’s a flat patch of grass twenty yards away, and this is where the visitor eventually settles. Within fifteen minutes, a small tent sits on the grass. When the creature crawls inside and lays down, his feet stick out of the flap. 

Once snoring filters into the air, Joseph slips from the tree, conjures a blanket from moss, and sets it across his feet. It gets cold here at night.

His kind gesture does not go as planned.

The instant the fabric hits skin, the figure in the tent jolts upright, growling.  Joseph sits back as his guest's head bursts into the open. Then their positions instantly reverse, the other creature scrambling backwards in alarm.

“What the fuck? Where, where’d you come from, I didn’t hear you, didn’t even smell you sneaking up on me.”

Joseph raises his eyebrows, “Probably because I smell like bark and my footsteps are no different from falling leaves.” He holds out his hand for the creature to shark, “Joseph Stern, dryad.” 

“O-kay, so why is a dryad trying to…” he looks at the blanket for the first time, “tuck me in?”

“You’re new to woodland living, I take it?”

“Not really.”

Joseph sighs, “There are specific rules that govern this forest. One of them is that dryads are responsible for everything within a two mile radius of their base” he points to the Beech, “including any residents, visitors, or refugees. Which means you’re my responsibility.”

“Uh, I’m good, you don’t need to, like, babysit me.”

The dryad produces a notebook from his pocket, flipping to the section for his resident intake form, “I’m not babysitting you, I just need some information for my records. Name?”

Deep brown eyes blink, perplexed, and then his guest shrugs, “Barclay.”

“Species?”

“No fucking idea.” Barclay picks up the moss blanket, folding it and setting it next to the tent. 

“Purpose of stay?”

“To get some peace and quiet.” He turns a pointed glare at Joseph. Even with the glower, he’s the most handsome creature the dryad has ever seen. 

“Um. Right. I’ll just fill in the rest myself. If you need anything, I’m just over there.” He walks briskly away, managing to only look over his shoulder once. Barclay is watching him, looking for all the world like a hare waiting for the fox to pounce. 

It’s only when he’s back in the tree that he realizes having a resident will cut down on his research time. Then again, his guest is far more intriguing than any human could ever be.

------------------------------------------------------

Barclay was so ready to stop feeling bad. He feels bad for stealing the tent from a guy he scared off his campsite two towns back. Bad for yanking clothes off the clothing line of rural houses so he could have two sets to rotate instead of a filthy, single shirt and shorts combo. Bad because it’s been months since he ate anything but MREs, granola bars, and day olds salvaged from dumpsters. 

Now he gets to add “feel bad because you’re crashing on some guys front lawn” to that list. He didn’t even know nymphs were a thing; he thought he was the only weird semi-human in the world. Yet here’s Joseph, hair as dark and shiny as the leaves on his home tree, skin the color of bark, and vines occasionally twining up his arms and legs. Unlike Barclay, his inhuman features make him beautiful, not beastly. 

Barclay came here to be alone. 

Barclay hates being alone. He wants a house full of warmth and voices mingling over a kitchen table, wants people to care for and who care about him. So when Joseph appears the next morning near his small fire and it’s boiling pot of foraged tea, he offers the dryad some. 

They sit, awkwardly sipping from their mugs, when he decides to take advantage of his host.

“I, uh, don’t suppose there’s any herbs growing around here? Like mint, or maybe alliaria? I wanna catch fish for dinner, but they taste better if I can season them.”

“I think there’s some growing upstream. Do you want me to show you?”

“Uh, no, that’s fine. I’m used to finding stuff on my own.”

Joseph nods, finishes his tea, and magics the cup clean before handing it back to Barclay.

----------------------------------------------------------------

“What...what’s all this?” Barclay stares, stunned, at the pile of goods sitting by his firepit. He counts a camp stove, teapot, and two boxes of fresh food, including bread and cheese,

Joseph looks up from organizing the supplies, “A few friends of mine, plus the Ashroot Market.” He smiles, Barclay’s stomach flipping like a flapjack when he does, “did you think we live on berries and air?”

“Kinda, yeah.” Barclay rubs his arm, embarrassed, “thanks, Joseph. I, uh, I don’t really have money, so maybe I can pay you back with-” he trails off as the nymph stands and sets a hand on his shoulder. 

“Barclay, you don’t owe me anything. I did this because you keep saying how much you miss cooking from a real pantry and, um, I thought it’d make you happy to have some options.”

“It does.” He freezes as Joseph strokes the fur poking through a hole in shirt, “I can restock your sewing kit the next time, if you want.”

“That’d be great.” He wants so badly to touch him back, to see if he shudders away from his claws or holds his hand. 

Josephs arm drops back to his side, “Ned has a surprising number of camping supplies. I suspect he stole them from humans, which is technically against the rules but” he indicates the stove, “I’ll let it slide for now.” 

A conspiratorial wink and Barclay rumbles out a purr, catching it before Joseph notices.

“Will, uh, will you at least let me make you dinner as a thank you?”

The dryad nods, “That sounds perfect, big guy.”

-------------------------------------------

Barclay doesn’t howl often; it draws unwanted attention and there’s no one like him out there to answer anyway. Tonight he couldn’t help it, the loneliness tearing him to bits on it’s climb up his throat. He’s cross-legged on the ground, face to the stars, when Joseph sits down beside him. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine. Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. Thought you were out.”

“I was reading.” Joseph scoots closer, rubbing Barclay’s back, “and I can tell you’re lying.”

Barclay delays answering, fixes his gaze on the Beech where Joseph lives. Nymph homes occupy liminal spaces, fitting an entire domiciles within trees. His current hobby is imagining what it looks like on the inside; whether there are books stacked neatly everywhere, whether there’s a nice kitchen, how big the bed is, what the view from the bed is like…

He’s never going to know, Joseph made that clear. 

“It’s not that no other creature is allowed in a nymph home, more that getting them in there takes a dangerous amount of energy.”

“Barclay?” Joseph rests his head on his shoulder, “have you always been alone?”

“No. Or, well, I don’t think so. I get flashes of memory from when I was really little. Like there’s this big house with lots people who look like me, and they’re talking and keep passing me around so the grown-ups can ruffle my fur and make this, this sort of” he breaks off into the low, soft hoots that echo down through the years, “and then...then there’s this gap and the next thing I remember is being dumped on the side of the road somewhere in central California, more or less an adult myself. I spent so long looking for my family, for anyone who looked like or could give me answers and all I got was some scars and a bunch of T.V shows about hunting me.” 

“That sounds awful. I, um, I’m glad you stumbled into my neck of the woods. I know I’m not always the best company and ask more questions about living around humans than you’d probably like but, um, you deserve to have at least one person on your side.”

“Thanks” Barclay tips his head sideways so it’s resting against Josephs’, “Uh if, if you ever want to, we could have a dinner here with Duck and them. I like cooking for people; one of those things I know about myself even if I can’t remember why.”

He must imagine the lips brushing his forehead as Joseph sits up, “I’ll invite everyone first thing tomorrow.”

------------------------------------------

A danger of sleeping in Joseph’s clearing is that Barclay feels safe. Starts sleeping like he has nothing to fear. 

The voices in the distance, jarring him awake in the dead of night, remind him of the truth.

“Shit” he scrambles out of the tent, piles it and all his other possessions into a hollow log and throws the moss blanket over it just to be safe. Then the worst sound in the world reaches him: barking. Not only are the hunters close, they have dogs. And, his acute hearing informs him, he’s their prey. 

Fuck, his scent and fur are all over this part of the woods, no wonder they’re honing in on him so fast. His best chance is to run and cross the river, but there’s an open stretch on the other side, so unless he’s lucky they’ll still spot him. 

“Hey! I think something is moving over here!” 

He flattens against the Copper Beech, narrowly dodging the beam of a flashlight. 

“Shit, shit” he doesn’t want to fight, doesn’t want to hurt anyone. He doesn’t want to be caught. Inhaling, he readies himself to give the loudest roar of his life. 

Then the world tips and twists and he’s no longer in the woods. He is, however, in a tree, if the view from the window is anything to go by.

Gasping sends his attention to the floor and he drops to his knees, scooping a limp, pale Joseph into his arms. 

“Wel, welcome to my house. Sorry it’s such a, a mess.”

He glances at the polished furniture, the neatly stacked books, and the spotless floor.

“Seriously, babe? That’s the first thing you say after saving my neck?” He giggles, tipping towards hysteria. 

“I couldn’t let them hurt you.”

“You could have died.” Barclay adjusts him so he’s mostly upright and hugs him close, “I coulda lost you why, why did you-”

His question is lost in the clumsy kiss Joseph pulls him into. Barclay’s body gives up on adapting to anymore surprises and he falls onto his back, the nymph weakly petting his cheeks as he tries, clearly exhausted, to continue kissing him. 

“You’re the most incredible being in the forest and, and I’ve been so happy since you came to stay. My entire body feels like a leaf beaten limp by the rain and I’d do the same spell this instant, without hesitation, if that’s what it took to keep you safe. Keep you with me.”

Carefully, Barclay guides him into another kiss, vines curling up them both the more he pours all his affection and thanks into the nymphs mouth. When Joseph finally pulls away, he nestles down on Barclays chest, running his fingers through his fur. 

“You, um, you may be here awhile. I’m not sure if I can get you out safely or if Dani and the others will have to help me.”

“No complaints here.” Barclay strokes his hair, which feels like soft leaves and normal locks all at once. 

Joseph answers a few more logistical questions before falling asleep in his arms, which is plenty of answers for one night. And in the morning, when the nymph rolls over to smile at him, he can confirm; the view from the bed is beautiful.

[fandomsandflyingstingrays]

Stepping Stones: Chapter 2

A sharp pain in Hunter’s stomach makes his eyes fly open, and he throws himself off his makeshift bed, frantically patting himself, searching for goo or some other trick of Belos’s. There’s nothing he can see or feel, but maybe he should wake someone, just to be sure—

His stomach growls.

Right— he hasn’t eaten since… dinner on Halloween.

Flapjack would have brought him something, would have flown out to Bonesborough to get him some Hex Mix, but— “Flap’s not here,” he mutters into his hands. “Come on, Hunter.”

Careful not to wake Gus, Willow, and their parents, he slips out of the living room and makes his way to the Owl House’s kitchen. Surely there has to be something in there that’s still good. But cabinet after cabinet are empty of nothing but the occasional skeleton. Clearly this place has been looted from top to bottom over the last two months. 

Footsteps echo in the hall, and he finds himself reaching instinctively for his staff. A surge of anger races through him, potent enough to make his vision blur, and he has to blink furiously before he’s able to make out the figure in the doorway.

“Raine?”

“Oh— hey, Hunter.” Raine rubs the back of their neck. “I was just looking for some apple blood for Eda.”

“I don’t think you’ll find anything.” Hunter glances at the open cabinets. “Everything’s been cleared out.” 

“That makes sense. Well, maybe I can conjure…”

They trail off, and Hunter looks back to find them staring at him. “What?” He demands.

“Your scars,” they say softly. “Belos possessed you too.”

Hunter folds his arms, about to snap that it’s none of their business, when the last word takes root in his mind. “Too. You were…” Hunter steps closer, until he’s able to make out faint scars beneath Raine’s glasses, like tear tracks streaking down their cheeks. “Belos possessed you?”

Raine nods. “While I was a puppet. He used me to manipulate the Collector until he realized the Titan would make a better target.” 

“But— how did you survive?” Hunter demands. “My palisman had to give me its life just to get me to move, and you’re just fine?”

Raine’s eyes widen. “You lost Flapjack?”

“Yes, I— how did you know his name?”

“Darius told me about your palisman. When you started asking the coven heads what a flapjack was, I put it together. Hunter… I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks.” Hunter looks down, unable to think of anything else to say. He lowers himself into the closest chair, suddenly too tired to stand.

Raine gingerly makes their way to the table and sits down, like they’re approaching an injured animal. “Eda helped me carve my first palisman,” they say. “Her dad taught her to carve Owlbert, and then she taught me. They were an arctic fox. I named them Lightning.

“I never really liked the coven system, but I joined the bard coven of my own free will,” they continue, and Hunter glances at them, bemused at the sudden change in topic. “I loved music, and I believed in its power, and I thought the coven would teach me to use it best. I only realized how corrupt it was when I got higher in the ranks, but by then, I was in deep enough that I knew the best way to take down Belos was from the inside. I rose higher and higher in the ranks, until I was the best candidate to replace Scooter Crane. But, like all the other coven heads, I had to give Belos a sacrifice to prove my loyalty.”

“Your palisman,” Hunter whispers, putting it together. 

Raine nods, their glassy eyes focused on the table. “I couldn’t think of a way out of it,” they say hoarsely. “If I refused, it would mean giving up my best chance at rebelling from the inside. I told Lightning they could run away, if they wanted, that I wouldn’t blame them— but they thought it would be too suspicious. So I gave them to Belos. I pledged my loyalty.” A tear frees itself from Raine’s eye and traces the path of their scar. “I watched Belos break them, but before he could take in their magic, they ran to me. They gave it to me instead.” They let out a long breath. “Belos still allowed me to become a coven head— he said it wasn’t my fault, and I think he was interested in having a coven head with the power of a palisman in addition to their own abilities. It was that power that allowed me to fight Belos off, and to keep fighting him until the end. And I’m guessing it was Flapjack’s power that did the same for you.”

Hunter nods.

“Having their magic is a poor substitute for having them,” Raine says. “But no other palisman will have to meet the fate they did because of the sacrifices they made. Belos fell because of them. Remember that.”

Hunter thinks about the little bear he handed over to Belos when he entered the Emperor’s coven, about the hundreds of tortured forms crying out in Belos’s mind, about feeling Flapjack splinter beneath his fingers. Flapjack, who made sure it would never happen again.

“Thank you,” he tells Raine. “For saying that.”

“Don’t,” Raine says sharply, shaking their head. More softly, they add, “I don’t deserve it.”

They look up at Hunter, a sadness in their face he’s never seen before. “As a coven head, I knew how you were treated,” they say. “I let Belos manipulate you, and lie to you, and threaten you. I could have stepped in, and I didn’t. I told myself it was for the greater good— that if I left the castle for one person, I couldn’t save everyone else. But that will never excuse it.” 

Hunter thinks about what would have happened if someone had told Belos to stop sending him on missions, had said his treatment of Hunter was cruel, had blocked him every time his goo got too close for comfort. Part of him wants to say that would have changed everything. Maybe it would have. But… 

“I’m not sure it would have even saved me,” he says. “You’re not the only one who has regrets. I wondered, sometimes, if what Belos was telling me and what I was doing for him was wrong… but I pushed those thoughts aside so harshly. Luz and Amity offered me a way out, and I didn’t take it. I only allowed myself to see who Belos really was when I actually went into his mind. And even then— not until he tried to trap me there. If you had spoken against him, I probably would have just said you didn’t know what you were talking about.”

“You’re a kid, Hunter. I still should have tried.”

“Maybe,” Hunter admits. “But I understand why you didn’t. I’m not sure we’d all be here if you had.”

The sadness doesn’t leave Raine’s eyes, but they give him a little smile as they stand up. “Well, now that we don’t have to worry about Belos, I’m going to do everything I can to make it up to you. Maybe I could start by cooking you breakfast?”

“I told you, there’s no food in here—“

“No, but I do have a stash. I left some ingredients at the CATTs’ headquarters before we left, in case… in case the kids came back without us.” Raine draws a wide circle in the air, and a number of bags and cartons crash to the table. Hunter squints at the assortment. There’s something familiar about them… like something he’s seen in Camila’s kitchen.

“Are you making flapjacks?”

Raine tugs nervously at their hair. “Is that okay? I always felt bad I couldn’t tell you about them when you asked, but Terra was keeping me on a very short leash… so I thought I’d make them for you now. It sounds like you’ve already seen them, though, so—“

“Yeah. But, I like them a lot. I’d like to see what the Boiling Isles version is like.”

Raine looks at him for a moment, as if trying to gauge whether or not he’s lying— and his stomach picks that moment to give another loud growl. Raine cracks a grin. 

“All right. I’ll get started.”

The kitchen falls silent, except for the occasional clatter of Raine’s spoon scraping the bowl as they mix and Hunter’s fingers tapping at the table as he tries to figure out how to broach the next subject.

“Raine?”

“Mhm?”

“Is Belos really dead?”

They stop mixing, turning to give Hunter their full attention. “Yes,” they say. “I saw it.”

“Luz said he got hit by the rain,” Hunter says. “That he… melted, sort of. But the Collector splattered him against a wall, and I thought he was dead then, but he followed us into the Human Realm.”

“Belos didn’t just melt, Hunter. Eda, King, and I… we kind of… stomped on him.” Raine grimaces, and it’s clear they know that as much as Hunter hates Belos, part of him misses him, too. The gentle uncle he thought he had. 

“That’s okay. He deserved it,” Hunter replies, forcing all the memories of that gentle uncle crushing Flapjack in a single motion. “But that still isn’t proof. I mean, the Collector kind of stomped him, in a way—“

“—And he followed you through the portal. His goo… it was all over us. If he had been alive, he would have tried to possess us, wouldn’t he?”

Hunter releases a long breath. “Yeah. Yeah, he would.”

Raine squeezes his shoulder and goes back to mixing. After another minute, they pour the batter into a pan, and the kitchen of the Owl House begins to smell almost like Camila’s. Slowly, drawn by the smell, the rest of its wayward guests trickle in— but Raine makes sure Hunter gets the first flapjack, even though Eda’s looking at them with enormous, pleading eyes. 

“You’re getting a good deal, kid. No one makes this recipe like Raine,” she says, winking at them as they pass. 

“You’ve never tried Camila’s,” Willow insists, coming to sit beside Hunter. 

“She’s a genius,” Gus agrees, and Camila smiles at them both. 

Hunter feels a hand on his head, and the pressure is familiar enough now that he already knows who it is before he turns to find Darius giving him a small smile. He comes to sit on Hunter’s side, Eberwolf beside him, and speaks in a low voice.

“Raine told me you two talked.”

Hunter nods slowly, wondering if this is about Flapjack or Belos. 

Neither, it turns out, because when Darius speaks again, his voice is even lower. “Listen, little prince— I owe you an apology too.”

“You couldn’t compromise your position by standing up for me. I get that.”

“Yes, but I didn’t have to be so hard on you, either.”

Hunter looks down at his hands, fingering the line on his finger where he first saw Belos seeping through. “Belos killed your mentor, the Golden Guard before me. Because he betrayed him.”

Darius nods. “And then, a few months later, you showed up. A perfect, younger copy of him, but so loyal. I held that against you, tried to goad you into rebelling the way he did, when I should have treated you like your own person.”

“That would have been nice,” Hunter agrees. “But I don’t know that I would have made the friends I did if you hadn’t pushed me. Maybe there were better ways to go about it. Maybe there weren’t. But we’re here now, and Belos isn’t. That’s enough for me.”

Darius smiles, then clears his throat, glancing down at the table. “Well. Now that Belos isn’t around… if you need a place to stay… you’re welcome to come to the CATTs’ headquarters with Raine, Eber, and I until we get a more permanent place sorted out.”

“You’re also welcome to come back to the human realm with Luz and I,” Camila adds, making both Darius and Hunter startle.

“Speaking of,” Luz says, “we should probably head back after breakfast. We can grab some more food.”

“That would be nice,” Raine admits. “We didn’t put enough food in Headquarters to last this many people for more than a day.”

“And Vee must be worried sick,” Camila adds. “Good idea, mija.”

Hunter goes back and forth in his head as they eat. He got comfortable with Darius those last few days in the castle, and he believes Darius and Raine will take care of him now. He has no desire to be separated from Willow and Gus, either. But, aside from Halloween, he’s never felt safer than he did in the human realm. Until he knows for sure that Belos is gone, he wants to be a world away from him, to walk on ground he hasn’t possessed. 

So, after his stomach is too full to hold another bite and everyone’s plates are clean, after Camila and Luz stand together, he does, too. “I’d like to come back with you,” he mutters. “If that’s okay.”

Luz slings an arm around his shoulders, and he leans against her, letting out a grateful breath. Maybe it’s just Hunter’s imagination, but he thinks Darius’s expression falls, just a little bit. 

The Owl Lady isn’t nearly as composed— true terror takes over her expression, and Luz reaches out to hold her hand. “I’ll be back in just a few hours, Eda. I promise.”

“She will,” Camila adds, and Eda seems to take that as a guarantee, relaxing a little. 

Luz lets go of Hunter to hug King, and Gus takes her place, pulling Hunter into a quick hug.

“You’ll be back soon?” He asks.

“Of course,” Hunter promises. Gus pulls back, and they bump fists.

Willow hugs Hunter next, and he holds her back gently, face on fire, trying not to move or breathe. I’m holding on for too long, he thinks, should I let go first? No— maybe that’s not right. Why do people do this thing with their arms? Why aren’t there more rules for how it works? Why—

Willow pulls back and presses a kiss to his cheek, and he stops thinking at all. 

He quickly tilts his head to the floor, trying to hide whatever face he’s making and when he speaks, his voice is about three octaves higher than usual. “Great. Well, I’ll see you all soon.”

“Come on, hermano,” Luz says, her voice shaking with suppressed laughter as she wraps her arm around him again and leads him towards the door. Hunter draws in a sharp breath, looking up to scan her face.

She’s smiling, but not laughing at him. Just smiling, casual as anything. And the heat in Hunter’s cheeks fades, replaced by moisture in his eyes that he frantically blinks back so that he can see where he’s going. 

Maybe things could have been different, better. But what Hunter told Flapjack is still true— he likes who he is right now. Someone with Raine Whispers and Darius Daemonne looking out for him, someone with Willow Park’s kiss on his cheek, someone with Luz Noceda’s voice in his head calling him brother.

He rubs his hand over the scar again and smiles through his tears. I win, Belos, he thinks, and for the first time, it feels true.