Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

• • •

The first thing Hunter notices when he's thrust out of the portal into the human realm is that the rain here doesn't boil like it does back home. Ironically, it does the complete opposite, prickling at his skin like a thousand tiny shards of ice, chilling him to the bone. Strange, how something so cold can still feel like it's burning. He's almost thankful when he finally starts to feel numb to it all. 

If only the sensation could extend past his skin, numb him to the torrential downpour of melancholic catastrophizing raging on inside his head, an endless loop of intrusive thoughts reminding him of every terrible thing that's ever happened to him — In the last few hours. In the last few weeks. The last sixteen years of his life.

That's something he's still getting used to. Guess you don't really know your life is shit until you're shown something better.

A life, his useless stormcloud of a brain reminds him, that very nearly got cut short today. If he flexes his fingers, he can still feel the phantom ache of the draining spell crackling through his veins, can still picture the way the walls of the castle crumbled around him every time he closes his eyes. A nettling reminder that they're stuck here, with no hope of ever going back, no idea whether their friends and families are even still—

Darius, please wake up.

Hunter shoves the memory deep down, blinking back tears that pour hot down his cheeks, swept away in an instant by the icy rainfall.

So much has changed in just a few short weeks. He's lost so much — the only home he's ever known, the only family he's ever known, his whole life's purpose. Even his identity isn't his own anymore — though perhaps it never truly was, constantly hidden behind the mask of someone or something else, gone from Golden Guard to grimwalker in the span of a few cold, cutting words. 

At least, for a little while, he'd been proud to call himself the Golden Guard…but what pride is there to be found in being the clone of a witch hunter, literally created to hurt the people he loves most in this world?

And isn't that just the craziest thing about all of this — that in spite of everything he's lost these past few weeks, Hunter can't help but feel like he's gained so much more. Which is exactly what makes the possibility of having it all ripped away from him infinitely more terrifying than everything he's already lost. Because this time, what he has is actually real.

In just a few short weeks, every single one of them has completely changed his life for the better, shown him what real love and friendship looks like, made him feel safe and worth something in a way no one ever has before. 

But even kind people have their limits. What will they think of him when they find out what he is, after everything he's done, after everything they've already had to forgive him for?

What will Mrs. Noceda, who'd been kind enough to invite him into her home, provided him with food and shelter without even asking him to earn it, fussed over his cuts and bruises and shown him the kind of gentle care and affection he's always craved in a parental figure, think of him when she discovers how he and her daughter first met?

Luz, who's become something of a sister to him, someone he now holds in higher regard than he ever had his so-called uncle, unwaveringly compassionate to everyone she meets, even the ones (like him) who don't deserve it.

Or Vee, Camila's honorary second daughter — a basilisk bred in captivity who spent her whole life trapped and tortured by the same regime Hunter used to be proud to uphold.

Amity, who'd been willing to give him a second chance even after his monumental fuck up at Eclipse Lake — a tentative friendship born out of mutual understanding and the unique shared trauma of knowing you'll never be good enough in the eyes of someone who's supposed to love you unconditionally, knowing what it's like to break free from browbeaten toxic ideals and forge your own path.

Gus, who makes him feel simultaneously protected and protective — the closest thing to a brother that Hunter has ever had (and didn't know he'd wanted until it was already his.)

Willow, who—

Willow, whose smile managed to warm his insides before he could even take one bite of the soup she just set down in front of him.

Willow, who makes him feel everything, all at once. 

Happy. Nervous. Excited. Terrified. Vulnerable. Safe. 

Like he's free-falling off the top of the Knee, heart racing like he's running for his life, and yet…somehow, he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that when he finally lands, something soft will be there to break his fall.

Willow, who he likely never would have even met if it weren't for Darius, the coven head who'd kept his secrets, given him a lifeline when he'd needed it most, offered him the promise of a home only a few short hours ago…

"I've secured a cottage on the outskirts of town, close to Hexside," he'd said, crossing his arms and leaning casually against the doorframe of Hunter's bunk at CATs headquarters. "It's small, nothing like what a little prince who's grown up living in a castle would be used to, but there are two bedrooms. One of them is yours, if you would like to—"

"Yes!" Hunter exclaimed, and then quickly ducked his head, color tinging the tips of his ears in embarrassment. He'd never agreed to something so fast in his entire life. "I mean, yeah. I'd…I'd like that. Thank you, Darius."

The corners of Darius's mouth quirked up in a fond smile.

"You're very welcome, Hunter," he said, before his expression flickered to something darker, more troubled.

"Keep your friends safe today. The human in particular will need all the help she can get taking on the Blights and that self-serving little snitch Kikimora." Darius's upper lip curled in disgust, and Hunter couldn't help but smirk at the casual revelation that Darius hated her just as much as Hunter always had, the two of them free to commiserate about it openly now.

"And Hunter—" Darius paused in the open doorframe, fixing him with that same careworn expression he'd often caught Eda casting at Luz and King whenever she thought they weren't looking. "Please don't forget to look after yourself, too."

A promise that feels like it's slipping between his scarred and bandaged fingertips with each counterfeit beat of his galdorstone heart. 

Hunter has to have hope that Darius is okay — after all, if he survived the draining spell, then surely, so did everyone else. But even if they do manage to find a way back to the demon realm…would Darius even still want him? Or would he recoil at the thought of a witch hunter, a living reminder of the monster who'd nearly killed him, living under his roof?

Perhaps the revelation of what he is would tarnish his opinion of his former mentor, too, destroy a lifetime's worth of bittersweet memories of someone Darius used to hold in such high regard. 

After all, Hunter is merely one in a long line of many who'd been crafted in the likeness of Belos's old friend, each and every one of them snuffed out the moment they stopped living up to his impossible standards. 

If he's so easily discarded by the one person he'd looked up to his entire life, who'd made him believe he was worth something for sixteen years, then why should it be any different for the people who have only known him a few short weeks?

Hunter knows he's on borrowed time, knows it won't be long until they figure it out, until he's forced to tell them…but he just can't seem to work up the nerve, to even utter the word grimwalker aloud, terrified at the thought of losing everyone and everything that has somehow become vital to him in such a short amount of time. He feels like he's been woven by them, stitched back together into something better and brand new — take out all the stitches, and the whole thing falls apart.

All he's known for sixteen years is how to be useful, how to survive. Hell, if he'd never met any of them, he likely would have spent the rest of his life like that, blissfully unaware of the fairy tale notion that he could ever have anything else. He knows he could do it again if he had to, it's just…it's so much harder, now that he knows what true kindness, comfort, and security feels like, to imagine ever having to go back to a life like that.

Because despite everything that's happened, Hunter has never felt so safe and comfortable in his entire life — surrounded by people he loves and trusts, everyone crowded around the kitchen table, enveloped in the bright, welcoming warmth of the Noceda household, towels wrapped around their shivering shoulders, steaming bowls of soup clutched in their aching hands, united in their grief and the relief that at least they still have each other.

Yet, as he sits there, watching the rest of them put on a brave face while they recount every horrible detail of the Day Of Unity to Luz's mother, Hunter can't help but wonder how long he'll be allowed to be a part of this little found family he's grown so attached to. After all, he's already lost so much, it's only a matter of time until he loses this, too.

• • •

Hunter sits with his knees tucked into his chest, back curled against the peeling wallpaper lining the corridor leading to the only bathroom in the whole household with a working shower, Gus nestled in at his side. 

It'd been a long back-and-forth debate over who should get to use the shower first, Willow arguing most ardently in favor of Gus and Hunter, insisting that Gus get out of his muddy, rainsoaked clothes as soon as possible lest he catch the human equivalent of the common mold, and that after everything Hunter has been through, he deserves a little bit of comfort for once in his life, especially after the draining spell had nearly—

Willow falters, the rest of her words dying on a dry sob in the back of her throat.

In the end, Hunter and Gus had insisted on letting the girls go first. Though in retrospect, perhaps Hunter should have argued a little harder on Gus's behalf, glancing over in time to catch the violent shiver that tears its way through the younger boy's body, head ducked down as he picks at the caked-on patches of mud and grass stains drying on the knees of his trousers.

"Hey," Hunter prompts with a gentle nudge to his shoulder, feeling a little extra protective over the boy he's come to think of as his little brother these past few weeks, remembering the way he'd sunk to his knees and sobbed the moment he'd realized they had no way back home. "Are you okay?"

"No," Gus's reply comes instantly, single syllable wrapped around a bitter chuckle. He lets the blunt honesty linger in the air between them for a few seconds, exhaling on a self-soothing sigh before adding a hopeful, "But I will be."

He hesitates for a moment like he wants to say more, but then quickly decides against it, closing his mouth and shaking his head. 

Hunter arches an eyebrow at him, a silent invitation urging him to try. 

Gus takes a deep, steadying breath as he turns back to face the opposite wall, fingertips fidgeting with a tear in the knee of his trousers.

"I, uh…saw something," he says, tone trying for casual even as his voice shakes around the words. "…when I tapped into Belos's memories."

Hunter stiffens, knowing all too well what's coming next. He knew this would happen eventually, he just…thought he'd have more time.

"What did you see?" he asks carefully, trying desperately to keep the terrified quaver out of his voice.

"His name was Philip Wittebane," Gus exhales on a slow, shaky breath. "He was a human — a witch hunter — who came to the demon realm with his brother back in the Deadwardian Era. His brother, Caleb…he was a witch hunter, too…"

Hunter winces, preparing for the inevitable just like you.

"…until he fell in love with a witch."

Hunter's head snaps up, bright red eyes wide with shock.

"He did?" Hunter asks, utterly spellbound by this unexpected twist.

Caleb — Belos's brother — came to the demon realm a witch hunter and fell in love with a witch.

Hunter's head spins, thoughts racing wild at the wonderful revelation that at the very least, he wasn't made in the likeness of a monster, but of a person who simply started out on the wrong path and eventually found his way to the light. As small comforts go, this one feels monumental.

"Yeah," Gus confirms, one eyebrow arched in confusion, like he's not sure why that little detail is so important to Hunter in light of everything else. "Pretty sure they got married and had a kid. But then…Belos saw that as a betrayal to their way of life, so he…" 

Gus turns to face Hunter, tears welling in his dark blue eyes. 

"I saw the dagger, Hunter. Belos killed his own brother, all because he fell in love with one of our kind."

Our kind. The words echo inside Hunter's head, filling him with the worst case of imposter syndrome he's ever felt in his entire life.

"The brother, he— he looked exactly like you," Gus continues in a shell-shocked whisper, and the sinking feeling in the pit of Hunter's stomach breaches brand new depths. "I saw a memory of Caleb carving a cardinal palisman — I think that's who Flapjack's first owner was. And when Belos saw you with him tonight, he called you Caleb. It was like he couldn't tell the difference between reality and his memories, like he thought you were him. But that's impossible…isn't it?"

Hunter closes his eyes, tears threatening to spill over as he sees it all play out in his mind's eye. He remembers those portraits hanging in the gallery of Belos's mindscape, the ones he'd tried so hard to ignore. Remembers seeing a man with light blond hair and a sharp-cut jaw just like his, dark brown eyes scratched out on every portrait — the way he'd looked lying dead in a pool of his own blood in the very last one, Belos's bright blue eyes reflected in the blade of the dagger — and a sickening shiver winds its way down Hunter's spine.

"I know you've been keeping something from us — from me and Willow," Gus says quietly, pulling Hunter back into the present. "We wanted to give you your space, give you time to process whatever it is, tell us whenever you're ready. But Willow thinks she's got it mostly figured out, and after what I saw in Belos's memories tonight…well, I think that pretty much confirms her theories."

Hunter sucks in a breath that's equal parts horror that they know, and relief that both of them already suspected what he was for quite some time now, and haven't treated him any differently. He feels a rush of affection and gratitude toward both of them, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes for an entirely different reason this time.

"It's called a grimwalker," Hunter exhales on a heavy sigh. "I don't know exactly what that is — whether I'm a witch, or a human, or something else entirely. All I know is that I'm a copy…and based on what you saw, it looks like I'm a copy of Belos's brother, Caleb Wittebane."

He lets the revelation hang in the air between them, waiting for…something, though he's not sure what. Shock? Disgust? Betrayal? Any number of worst-case scenarios he's been picturing on a nightmare loop ever since he found out what he was.

Instead, Hunter feels a comforting weight land on his shoulder, and glances over to find Gus looking up at him, lips tugging upward in an encouraging smile. 

Hunter holds onto that little spark of warmth, uses it like a lantern to guide him through the darkest parts of the forest.

"When I was in Belos's mindscape," he says, swallowing against the citrus-sharp bite of panic welling in the back of his throat. "I saw a whole corridor filled with dozens of Golden Guard masks, portraits of people who looked just like me." 

Gold scrollwork frames embedded in the cores of gnarled twisting tree trunks, roots curling like venomous snakes through the eye sockets of a cracked and crumbling mask he used to think was special — custom-fitted just for him — every curve perfectly suited to the sharp line of his jaw, the heart-shaped point of his chin. Turns out, it was made to fit whole droves of people just like him.

The hand on Hunter's shoulder squeezes ever so slightly, a gentle reminder that he's here, that he's safe. It pulls him back into the present, gives him the drive to keep going, each word slowly sucking out the venom.

"When Luz and I saw the inner Belos, he said, 'what a shame, out of all the grimwalkers, you looked the most like him.'" Hunter shivers against the chill of his uncle's cold, cruel words, tearing through him like slivers of glass.

"I think he kept trying to recreate the perfect version of his brother," Hunter ventures, filling in the missing gaps of his own theories with Gus's puzzle pieces. "One who still believed in all the terrible things they were taught about magic, about witches…and when we didn't live up to his standards, he…he killed us…just like he killed Caleb."

Hunter lets out a slow, shaky breath, trying to remember the calming four-count breathing technique that Gus said Willow had taught him.

Willow.

Just the thought of her ignites a burst of hope inside his chest, roaring to life like a bonfire in a snowstorm.

"But Caleb had a wife — a witch wife — and the two of them had a kid before he died," Hunter presses on, suddenly remembering that one portrait he'd glimpsed in the depths of Belos's mind, of two people walking hand in hand, silhouetted in the glow of the setting sun — one a young man with a profile identical to his own, the other a young woman who looked as though she was expecting to be a mother any day now.

"So that means…there's a good chance I might have ancestors…descendants? This is confusing," Hunter huffs out a laugh. Remembers another portrait of that same young man, beaming at a fiery-haired woman swathed in a tattered red witch's wool cloak, warm brown eyes filled with adoration as he'd gazed at her, oblivious to the way his blue-eyed brother scowled at the both of them in revulsion. But even in Belos's own mind, he couldn't deny that Caleb had been happy.

"I might have family out there, back in the demon realm," Hunter amends, a hopeful smile curling across his lips for the first time since they arrived on the Nocedas' doorstep. "And when we get back, I think…I think I'd like to try and find them."

The hand on Hunter's shoulder gives another affectionate squeeze, and Hunter glances over to find Gus mirroring that same hopeful smile, a glimmer of that puzzle-solving, adventure-seeking spark he knows and loves lighting up his dark blue eyes at the mere mention of the words when we get back, which only an hour ago, hadn't even been an if.

"We'll help you in any way we can," Gus reassures him with a heartening smile, and that tiny tendril of hope inside Hunter's chest glows just a little bit brighter.

• • •

Not wanting to stray too far from each other that first night, the five of them set up camp in the living room, sleeping bags strewn across the threadbare carpet, Flapjack, Clover, Emmiline, and Ghost huddled around their unhatched sibling in a makeshift nest on the couch above them.

Luz and Amity had been the first to fall into an uneasy sleep, the two of them snuggled up together in the same sleeping bag, arms wrapped tightly around one another, Amity gently cradling the back of Luz's head, carding soothing fingers through her hair as she'd timed her quiet sobs to the crashes of thunder raging on in the storm outside.

Next had been Gus, followed swiftly by Willow, the two of them curled up on either side of Hunter's chest, reaching across the space between his ribs to lock their fingers together, palms pressed right over his heart.

Leaving Hunter the last one still awake, bright red eyes staring a hard line into the hazy gray darkness closing in around them like smoke, terrified that at any moment, a pair of cold blue eyes will take shape in one of the shadow monsters that jerk and writhe across the ceiling as the wind shivers through the trees.

Hunter is no stranger to insomnia, but this one's got a sharper flavor than he's used to, fear and paranoia ramping up to the point of paralysis. He lays there for what feels like hours, muscles so rigid he can barely breathe, lumps of old worn cotton digging into the small of his back through a well-loved patchwork quilt spread out underneath him, arms wrapped protectively around the two people Hunter loves most in this world or any other, struggling to coax his body to match the calming mantra they'd taught him.

Breathe in, 2, 3, 4. 

Breathe out, 2, 3, 4.

Of course now is the time it chooses to stop working its magic.

He's about two seconds away from gently extricating himself to go and raid the cabinets for the human realm equivalent of a sleeping potion, when Willow nuzzles in just a little bit closer, soft hair tickling the underside of his chin, wild and loose from her signature twin braids, and all at once, a heady mix of scents overwhelms Hunter's senses — mint, basil, chamomile tea, honey, autumn-ripened apples, and freshly-turned earth — all the things he's come to associate as being uniquely Willow.

He doesn't know how she does it, how she always seems to know exactly what he needs when he needs it, but the effect is instantaneous, tension unraveling all the way down to Hunter's bones in a single breath. 

Without thinking, anxiety-ridden brain chasing the giddy rush of serotonin, Hunter buries his nose in Willow's hair, breathing her in to the slow and steady count of four, and exhaling on a deep, contented sigh that accidentally tickles Willow's nose, causing her to giggle in her sleep and snuggle in even closer, lips pressed against the jumping pulse in Hunter's throat. 

Just a few moments ago, he'd been shivering from the suffocating chill of the freezing rain outside. Now, his whole body feels like a furnace, full-body blush warming him from the outside in.

Hunter closes his eyes and lets the soothing scents envelope him, lets his mind wander to the closest thing he's ever had to a happy place — the two of them sitting side by side in the middle of Willow's magnificent homegrown garden, happy to listen as she rattles off the names and properties of different species of plants.

And if, just moments before he drifts off into the first peaceful sleep he's had in weeks, Hunter leans down to press a gentle kiss to the top of Willow's forehead…well, at least no one is awake to tease him for it.

• • •

Lightning forks through the sky in jagged lilac streaks, followed by a crack of thunder so loud Hunter can feel it rumbling through his ribcage like the roar of a wild animal.

He wakes suddenly, violently, both spaces beside him empty, and for one brief moment of all-consuming terror, Hunter worries that he's been abandoned, that they've all decided they'd rather not associate with a pale imitation of a genocidal tyrant's long-dead brother, and were merely waiting until he'd gone to sleep to give him the slip. 

Or worse, that they never existed at all — that he simply dreamt them all up in some kind of isolation-induced psychosis as a means to make himself less lonely, and that any minute now, he'd wake in that cold, dark castle, back under Belos's thumb—

Until his surroundings start to come back into focus, and he glances around the darkened living room, clocking the cuddle puddle of palismen softly dozing in a corner of the couch, Luz and Amity curled around one another just a few feet away, Gus rolled over onto his other side, clutching the little stuffed giraffe Luz had grabbed for him from her bedroom, and Willow—

Wait. Where is Willow?

Hunter bolts upright so fast he gives himself a head rush, spots bursting across his vision like a bokeh blur, soles slapping the kitchen tiles as he frantically searches the darkened house for a sign of her — when he sees a sliver of light coming through a crack between the frame and the front door, and follows it to find a familiar figure perched on the topmost step, just out of reach of the rain. 

Hunter breathes a sigh of relief, padding forward to take a seat beside her, hardly caring that his cozy cardinal socks are getting soaked. All that matters is that she's here, that she's safe. 

She doesn't startle, almost as if she'd been expecting him, offering him a weak, flickering smile before turning back to gaze out onto the misty landscape, hugging her knees a little tighter to her chest.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asks. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Willow shake her head.

"Me neither," he says with a small shrug. 

"Thunder," he adds, offering up an explanation as to why he's still awake at this ungodly hour, conveniently leaving out the part where he nearly had a heart attack when he woke up without her. 

"How about you?" he asks, gently nudging her shoulder with his own in what he's been taught is a friendly, comforting manner. He hopes he's doing it right.

Willow's lips part in reply, hesitating around a dozen different possible opening lines, before evidently changing her mind about speaking altogether, and merely shakes her head again. 

Hunter turns to look at her, startled to find those normally bright green eyes of hers staring back at him with a muted, haunted expression, flecks of rain clinging like tiny crystals to her gold-framed glasses, woven into the strands of her loosely-braided hair.

"Captain," he urges, wanting more than anything to reach across the space between them and pull her in close, desperate to bring back a spark of that sunlit joy she always seems to radiate. "What's going on? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Willow replies automatically, robotically, sounding anything but. She offers him another brief flicker of a faux-cheerful smile that doesn't even come close to reaching her eyes, before turning back to gaze out onto the rainy landscape.

"Willow," he tries again, voice softening around her name as he reaches out to place a gentle, ungloved hand across the back of one of her own — the first time in years he's touched someone without them.

Willow lets out a soft gasp, eyes trailing over the series of pale pink scars that twist and curl around Hunter's fingertips like tiny rivers, before glancing back up to look him in the eye, the faintest hint of a quiver in her lower lip as he adds, "Come on, talk to me. Please?"

And something about the way he's looking at her in that moment, so soft and pleading, so genuine in his concern for her, makes that last little bit of resolve inside of her snap. One minute she's stoic and silent, the next, she's bursting out crying, shoulders shaking as she hides her face in the palms of her hands. 

Acting on instinct, Hunter lurches forward, draping his arms around her shoulders like a winter cloak, marveling at the way Willow immediately melts into him, muffled sobs muted by the soft fabric of his t-shirt as she buries her face in his chest. 

Hunter doesn't have a lot of experience with the whole comforting thing, but he does his best, one pale scarred hand coming up to gently cradle the back of her head like he'd watched Amity do for Luz under the very same circumstances, the other rubbing soothing circles between her shoulder blades as her cries fade to soft, stuttered sighs. 

After a few moments, Willow resurfaces, hands still clutching onto the sleeves of Hunter's t-shirt like a lifeline as she sniffles and huffs out a watery chuckle.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like this," she says, trying for a smile that looks more like a grimace.

"Like what?" he asks softly, wondering why in the world she sounds so self-loathing. That's supposed to be his thing, not hers.

"Soft. Vulnerable. Weak," she replies, hanging her head in shame. "You must think I'm pathetic."

Hunter's brow furrows like a frown. His first instinct is to go on the defensive, to protect his friend against anyone who would dare speak ill of her…but what is he supposed to do when she's the one firing the shots? 

He opens his mouth to argue, to insist that he would never think of her as pathetic, when she starts talking again, and, not wanting to interrupt her, Hunter stays silent, giving her the space to speak her piece.

"I'm supposed to be better than this — strong and wise to protect the ones I love," she recites with a bitter laugh, rolling her eyes at her own foolish optimism. "But inside, I'm terrified. I miss my dads, my home, my life. I have no way back, no way to protect any of them, no way to know if they're safe, or even—" the unspoken words still alive hang in the air between them, catching in the back of their throats like swallowed sobs.

Willow shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut against a fresh wave of tears that threaten to spill down her chill-bitten cheeks.

"I thought I could be good at this," she says in an echo of that day in the holding cells. "But I'm the reason we're stuck here. I'm the one who suggested we go through that portal, and now we'll never find our way back home. After all this time, I'm still just Half-A-Witch—"

"Willow," Hunter exclaims, startling her out of her self-deprecating spiral with a soft gasp. It's not like him to interrupt her, and even Hunter is caught off guard by the sudden outburst. "I'm sorry, but I just couldn't let you beat yourself up anymore."

Willow stares at him, lips parted in surprise.

"Listen to me," he says as he braces a hand on either side of her shoulders, gentle enough to offer comfort, but with enough urgency to drive home his emphasis. "None of us would be here if it wasn't for you, and I mean that in the best possible way. The Collector would've torn down that castle with all of us inside it. That portal was our only way out. We're alive because of your quick thinking. So don't you dare blame yourself for us being stuck here."

"You are not Half-A Witch Willow," he says with a fierce determination in his bright red eyes that sparks warmth like a wildfire inside Willow's chest. "You have never been Half-A Witch Willow. You are the strongest, wisest, most powerful witch I know, and I can't— I won't— let you sit here and talk so poorly about someone who means the world to me. So please, promise me I won't catch you calling yourself that awful nickname ever again."

Willow lets out a soft, stuttered gasp, awed by Hunter's conviction in her defense. She stares at him for a few moments, tears sliding down her cheeks, before giving him a quick, resolute nod, as if to say, I hear you. I promise.

Hunter returns it with a stiff nod of his own, hands falling from her shoulders with a heavy sigh as he turns his gaze on the surrounding trees.

"And look, I know what it's like," he continues in a softer, smaller voice. "To feel like you've got to put on this false bravado for the rest of the world, pretend you're fine when you're falling apart inside, hide your true feelings behind a mask."

Hunter huffs out a bittersweet sigh, marveling at the fact that only a few weeks prior, he'd been honored to wear that golden facade. Strange, how drastically things can change in such a short amount of time.

"I used to think that crying, or being scared, or needing help were signs of weakness, but they're not. They're just a part of being…" he pauses, struggling to come up with the right word. 

Human? Demon? Witch? Alive? 

"…whatever I am."

"Grimwalker?" Willow ventures in a soft, small voice, casting him a cautious look out of the corner of her eyes. 

Hunter turns to stare at her, eyes wide in alarm.

"Gus said he told you I figured it out," she explains with a small shrug, hoping her casual tone will be enough to ease his nerves.

Hunter swallows, Adam's apple straining against his throat.

She knows. She knows what he is.

"And it doesn't…bother you?" he asks, wincing in anticipation. For some reason, having this conversation with Willow is a thousand times scarier than it had been with Gus. "The fact that I'm— that I'm not—"

Hunter heaves a weary sigh, breath coming out on a bitter, self-deprecating chuckle. "I spent my whole life ashamed thinking I was just half-a-witch. Turns out, I'm not even a witch. I'm just…a copy of someone else. Not a witch, not a human, but some weird secret third thing."

"And you thought that would bother me?" Willow asks, scoffing like she's offended he would even think such a thing. She turns to look at him, bright green eyes full of that same fiery determination he'd given her just moments before. "Grimwalker, human, demon, witch…does it really matter what we are or how we came into being? You're still you, no matter who or what you were made after."

"You're still Hunter," she says, voice softening around his name like it's the sweetest song in the world, lips spilling into a smile like she just can't help it — a natural reaction to the mere sight of him. 

"The same Hunter I met on the flyer derby field, who was willing to risk everything just to keep his teammates safe, who spent weeks texting me whole apology essays that must've taken hours to type out," Willow giggles, shivers that have absolutely nothing to do with the freezing rain trickling down Hunter's spine as one of her hands comes up to smooth back a lock of his hair.

"The same Hunter who swooped in to protect me from Kikimora's abomatron," she says in a soft, awed voice, and Hunter feels his face heat ten degrees as he remembers the way she'd raced after Kikimora when she thought he'd been kidnapped, eyes full of raw fury, vines at the ready to strike the little demon down.

"The same Hunter who stayed up all night at Gus's sleepover telling me everything you've ever read about wild magic, and all afternoon the next day listening to me go on and on about plant magic. Who made me laugh so hard with all your gardening puns that apple blood came shooting out of my nose."

"The same Hunter I know and lo—" she falters, the faintest hint of a blush tinging her cheeks pale pink in the golden glow of the porch light. 

"You're my friend," she amends, gazing up at him with a look of soft adoration in her eyes. "All that matters is who you are, who you choose to be…and from everything I've seen so far, I really like who Hunter is."

And now it's Hunter's turn to stare at her in open-mouthed awe, searching for the cracks in her resolve and coming up empty. For the first time in weeks, Hunter feels like he can finally breathe, relief washing over him at the extraordinary revelation that two of the most important people in his life know his darkest secret, and still want him anyway.

"Thank you, Cap—" he starts, but Willow interrupts him.

"You don't need to thank me for accepting you for who you are, Hunter," she says with a look of fond exasperation.

"But you're the first ones who ever did," he says softly, staring down at the collection of jagged scars that wind their way across his pale, shaking hands.

Willow stares at him for a moment, fully appreciating for perhaps the first time since she'd met him just how sad and lonely he must have felt all his life, locked away in that big empty castle with a monster of a man who never made him feel like he was worthy of kindness. Before he met them and became the newest member of their little family. 

Likely as lonely as she used to feel before she met them — Gus, Luz, the new and improved Amity — but even then, at least she'd still had her dads. The closest thing Hunter had ever had to a father figure was now splattered across the crumbling ruins of his old castle (though if she's really being honest, being a gross pile of green sludge was definitely an improvement of his character.)

"I want you to meet them," she says suddenly, and Hunter glances up at her, one eyebrow arched in confusion.

"My dads," she clarifies, feeling heat stir in her cheeks as the imagined interaction plays out in her head, wondering just how badly they'll embarrass her in front of him. The thought makes her smile. "When all of this is over, and we get back to the demon realm, I want you to meet my dads. I think— I know they'd really like you."

Hunter stares at her for a moment, lips parted in surprise. And then the meaning of her words sink in, and Hunter can't help the big, goofy, blissed out smile that curls across his face at the notion that she wants to invite him even further into her life, let him become a part of her world.

"I'd like that," he says softly, hoping his voice doesn't shake too much around the swell of emotions rising in his chest.

Willow smiles at him, that little glimmer of hope sparking back to life inside her bright green eyes, lighting them up like a summer meadow.

"We'll find a way back to them," he tells her, sunshine smile lighting a fuse inside his chest. "I don't know when, and I don't know how, but we will…and when we do, we'll do it together," he says, reaching out across the space between them to offer her his hand. 

Willow's smile grows even brighter, fingertips skating across his open palm before slotting into place in between his.

"Thank you," she says softly. "For reminding me of who I am, of what really matters, that I'm not…"

The words half-a-witch hang in the air between them, all of their darkest fears and deepest insecurities wrapped up in the same three little words, tying them together like a red string of fate.

"Guess between the two of us, we make a whole," Hunter ventures with a nervous chuckle, gazing down at their entwined hands like he's not entirely sure how he ended up in such a lucky position, marveling at how perfectly the two of them fit together.

"We were already whole on our own," she reminds him, giving the palm of his hand an affectionate squeeze, the pad of her thumb tracing a long, jagged scar that winds from the joint of his wrist to the back of his hand with a kind of gentleness reserved for her most precious seedlings. "But yeah, we do."

She lets her head fall against his shoulder with a contented sigh, the two of them perched on the topmost step of the front porch, side by side, watching the rainfall.

"It's kind of nice when it's not boiling, isn't it?" she says, reaching out her free hand to let a few stray drops dance across her fingertips.

"Yeah," Hunter replies, feeling his muscles unwind as he settles in against her side, rain-kissed hair tickling his nose as he rests his chin against the top of her head.

"Kind of goes in the opposite direction, though, doesn't it?" he adds a few moments later, shoulders shaking in a little shiver.

Willow huffs out a laugh, though she can't help but agree, stifling another giggle at the involuntary whine Hunter makes when she disentangles herself from him, coaxing her cold-numbed limbs into a standing position.

"Let's go back inside," she says, offering him her hand, which he gladly and eagerly takes. She pulls him to his feet easily, and as always, Hunter is awed by her grace and strength, his own failing him as a combination of nerves and numbness makes his knees buckle the moment he realizes he's standing close enough to count the freckles dotted across the bridge of Willow's nose. 

Cute, his exhaustion-addled brain shouts at him, adding freckles like brown sugar cinnamon to a long list of unnecessary details he's been unwittingly collecting in his Willow-centric observations.

He lets her take the lead, her hand a warm, anchoring weight in his own as she guides him through the semi-darkness back into the living room, suddenly far more cozy and inviting than it had felt all night. 

Together, they curl up in a pile of blankets close by Gus, the two of them falling asleep cuddled close to one another, Willow's head back where it belongs in the center of Hunter's chest, one hand curled over his heart.

• • •

Chapter Text

• • •

Hunter wakes to a world of warmth and coziness the likes of which he's never felt in his entire life, ears twitching as the sounds of muffled laughter and clanging pots and pans threaten to pull him from this blissful in-between.

With a groan, Hunter burrows back under the blankets and buries his face even further into the source of the warmth, soft worn cotton that feels like it's spent the night hanging in front of a roaring fire pressed against his cheek, fine silk thread tangled between his fingers.

There's a steady thrumming just beneath his ear that reminds him of a softly ticking pocketwatch, a delicate rise and fall like feathered wings gaining height, cradling his head as it swoops and takes flight in a rhythmic pattern, a soft tickling sensation across the top of his head as small gusts of wind waltz through his hair.

As he drifts between sleeping and waking, he imagines himself curled up like a cat in a garden, sunlight kissing his cheeks and bathing his back in its gentle warmth as he breathes in an enchanting collection of all his favorite scents, so comforting and familiar: mint, basil, chamomile tea, honey, autumn-ripened apples, and freshly-turned— oh.

With an embarrassing snort, Hunter startles awake, fluffy blond hair reaching all-new heights of gravity-defying cowlicks as he bursts out from under the covers, heart hammering in his chest as he glances down to find Willow softly stirring underneath him, hair wild and wavy from where he'd tangled his fingers in her silken strands, nightshirt wrinkled with the distinct outline of a hooked nose and pointed chin where he'd evidently spent the better part of the night. 

He's on the verge of blurting out a dozen different potential apologies, worried he's overstepped some kind of unspoken boundary between the two of them in his sleep, when Willow lets out the most heart-stutteringly adorable yawn Hunter has ever heard in his entire life, the sweetest smile spreading across her face as she greets him with a soft, "Good morning."

"Good— hi," he stumbles back at her, big goofy grin giving way to a wide-eyed grimace the moment he hears that same burst of laughter that had been responsible for waking him up in the first place, only much closer this time.

Startled out of their peaceful little mid-morning bubble, the two of them look up in time to find three sets of curious eyes peeking at them from around the corner where the kitchen meets the living room, eyebrows arched in fond amusement, cheshire cat smiles curling across all three of their faces.

"Oh. Hi, guys," Willow giggles, lifting up the hand currently wrapped around Hunter's shoulder to send a little half-hearted wave to their friends, and Hunter feels the tips of his ears burn like he's been caught in a boiling rainstorm.

"Well, well, well," Luz teases with a playful lilt as she rounds the corner, crossing her arms and leaning casually against the archway. "Looks like you two slept well."

"Wow, you're right," Amity chimes in, a good-natured smirk curling across her lips as she squints in their direction. "Hunter's eye bags don't look nearly as pronounced as they normally do."

"I know you're joking, but you've actually got a point," Gus observes, tilting his head to the side in puzzled astonishment like he's looking at a brand new version of his best friend. "Be real with me, dude…was that the first time you've ever gotten a full night's sleep?"

"I…think it actually might have been?" Hunter replies with a sheepish half-smile, caught off guard by how true that statement is.

With no time off and a constant nagging fear of being replaced for even the slightest hint of inadequacy, Hunter never really managed to get decent sleep back when he was in the coven. Hell, this is the first time in his life he's ever slept past 6AM. Three hours past, if the clock on the mantle is accurate. He's surprised to find he doesn't feel guilty about that. Instead, he just feels…good.

"Huh. Maybe you should sleep with Willow more often," Amity quips, freezing mid-laughter the moment she catches the double meaning of what she's just said, her own shock mirrored in the wide-eyed, open-mouthed expressions on everyone else's faces.

Five seconds doesn't seem like a long time until the only sound piercing the awkward silence is a ticking kit-cat clock. But then, just as swiftly as it had started, it breaks, Luz and Gus doubled over with laughter — first, at Amity's expense for her suggestive slip of the tongue, and then at Hunter and Willow, whose blushing faces have taken on a hue redder than Flapjack's feathers.

"I didn't mean— oh shut up," Amity splutters, rolling her eyes as she playfully swats her girlfriend across the shoulder and attempts to disappear into the kitchen to hide her blushing face.

"Okay, okay. No more teasing, I promise," Luz laughs, pressing a kiss against Amity's cheek, which somehow manages to turn even redder, before glancing back at Hunter and Willow.

"Hey," she says with a smile that's all warmth and genuine affection. "All jokes aside, I'm really glad you guys got some sleep." And something about the way she says it, the way that little spark of recognition lights up her eyes as they flit back and forth between the two of them — like all at once, a dozen different puzzle pieces have suddenly fallen into place, and she's surprised but not at all displeased by the picture they've formed — makes Hunter wonder whether she's just figured out yet another one of his big secrets, and that maybe this is her way of telling them, I'm happy you two found each other. Whatever this is, whatever it becomes, I approve.

And if he wasn't certain before, the all-too-knowing wink Luz gives the pair of them as she slips her hand into Amity's all but confirms his suspicions, and Hunter can't help but watch with a kind of yearning fascination as Luz brings their linked hands up to brush her lips against Amity's knuckles, before twirling her in an impromptu pirouette that has Amity giggling and blushing all over again.

There's a shiver-stirring brush of skin against skin as Willow breathes a contented sigh from right beside him, and when he glances over at her, he's surprised to find his own longing expression mirrored back at him in her soft smile and bright green eyes — and all at once, a swell of uncharacteristic hope stirs inside his chest at the sudden, wonderful possibility that maybe he could have that someday, too.

He's not used to things like that. Hope. Trust. People who actually give a damn about him. A few weeks ago, Hunter would have shriveled up into a defensive ball of resentment over the mere idea of being teased so relentlessly. He's not used to being toyed with in a way that isn't meant to manipulate or cause harm — and he's pretty sure, given some of the things he's learned about Willow's history in the short time he's gotten to know her, that she isn't either.

But for the first time in his life, it doesn't feel malicious. It just feels…playful. Friendly. Safe. And even though his heart is still threatening to beat right out of his chest, ears still burning like he's been stung by a thousand fire bees, he has to admit, it's pretty amazing seeing his friends light up and laugh like this, especially after everything they've been through. Besides, he woke up feeling so happy and refreshed this morning, he couldn't even pretend to be upset or embarrassed about it if he tried. 

Everything about the world just feels a little bit brighter today, from the sunlit blue sky to the birds chirping cheerfully outside, to the positively heavenly smell wafting in from the kitchen, making Hunter's stomach rumble.

"What is that amazing smell?" he asks as he follows his friends into the kitchen.

"Morning, kids!" Camila greets the five of them as they all shuffle over to the stove, Vee at her side flipping what appears to be a fluffy brown disc in a sizzling pan, before stacking it on top of a veritable mountain of them. "Come grab a plate and help yourselves to some breakfast. We've got bacon, eggs, fresh fruit, and pancakes."

"Pancakes?" Hunter inquires with a curious quirk of his eyebrows. The name sounds familiar, but he can't quite place where he knows it from. "I feel like I've heard of those, but I've never actually had one."

"Oh my god, you've gotta try some. They're so good. Especially the way my mamá makes them," Luz says, offering Hunter a plate stacked high with the strange yet delicious looking circles, what look like miniature griffin eggs served sunny-side up, and little strips of wavy red meat. 

Hunter hands the first plate to Willow, the second to Gus, and the third to Amity, before finally making his way over to the kitchen table with his own. He takes the open seat between Willow and Gus, picks up his fork, and stares down at his plate, realization dawning on him as Flapjack flutters over from the top of the refrigerator to land on his shoulder with a cheerful chitter.

Ohhhh. So this is what Flapjack is named after. Now he finally knows!

Hunter smothers them in maple syrup as per Luz's suggestion, and takes a bite, eyes lighting up as an explosion of sugary goodness floods his senses.

"Oh Titan, these are delicious," he moans, far too engrossed in what is quite possibly the best meal he's ever had in his entire life to notice the furious blush creeping across Willow's cheeks as she chokes around her own mouthful, Gus and Amity hiding their snickers behind big swigs of orange juice.

Flapjack twitters, giving Hunter's forelock an affectionate tug to get his attention.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want to try some, too?" Hunter asks his little red-feathered companion, scritching the underside of his beak with his free hand. 

Flapjack chirps, hopping up and down excitedly on Hunter's shoulder. Hunter chuckles and obligingly cuts off a small bite to feed to him, making a joke about how that's cannibalism, but okay as Flapjack eagerly scarfs it down.

"Whoah, you must really be hungry," he says, frowning when he realizes he doesn't have any of his palisman's favorite treats on hand. 

He turns toward Mrs. Noceda, falters for a moment, hesitant to ask for anything more than the generous food and shelter she's already provided them, but forces himself to at least try for the benefit of his little buddy.

"Mrs. Noceda," he says with a soldier-like salute. "Thank you for the wonderful breakfast. It was very kind of you to feed us."

"Oh," Camila replies, looking a little taken back by Hunter's polite yet mildly concerning humility. "You're very welcome, hijo. Any friend of Luz's is considered family."

"Th-thank you," he stutters, warmth flooding his chest and threatening to spill out of the corners of his eyes at the mention of the word family.

"I hate to ask for even more, but would you happen to have any crabapple claws on hand? They're his favorite," he explains, smiling as the little bird nuzzles against his cheek.

Camila stares at him blankly for a moment, and then asks, "Do you mean like, Apple Jacks?"

"Is…that another word for pancakes?" Hunter asks, head tilted to the side in confusion. 

"No, it's a brand of cereal," Camila informs him, which only serves to confuse him further. 

Ah, well. No matter. Flapjack isn't exactly a picky eater. Hunter shakes his head and tries again.

"If you could please direct me to your nearest goreberry grove, I'd be happy to pick some for all of us. They're…not exactly well liked by palismen on the whole, but they're a key ingredient in fairy pie and don't taste nearly as disgusting once they've been baked in," he says, eager smile fading to an embarrassed frown when he remembers that he doesn't know shit about baking, and would likely set her kitchen on fire if he were to try.

Camila blinks at him, utterly lost like he's just spoken a completely different language. "I'm sorry…fairy pie? Gore—"

"It's a Boiling Isles thing," Luz rushes to explain, exchanging giggling glances with her girlfriend as they both remember the fairy pie incident from their crush blush days.

"While we don't have any of that in the human realm, we do have a couple of really tasty alternatives," Luz offers, plucking a selection of brightly colored fruits from a bowl in the middle of the kitchen table and holding out her hand for Flapjack to come and inspect.

He takes a couple of bites of a strawberry and twitters happily, pokes his beak into the center of a raspberry and ruffles his feathers in what Hunter likes to call his little happy dance, and then moves onto the blackberry, feverishly pecking at the dark purple fruit and devouring it within seconds.

Or at the very least, half of it. 

The other half gets nudged across the table with his little red beak until it rolls right in front of Hunter, who stares down at it with a soft smile on his face and says, "Oh. Thanks, Flapjack," before popping it into his mouth. 

It's like nothing he's ever tasted before, fresh and earthy, sweet and tangy all at once. The little bird looks up at him expectantly, hopping up and down in delight and chirping wildly.

"You're right," Hunter tells him, reaching forward to scratch at his favorite spot underneath his beak. "That is delicious. Thanks for sharing, buddy."

"I think blackberries are the winner," Luz declares triumphantly, passing a handful to Hunter, who scatters them across the edge of his plate and watches with a fond smile as Flapjack chirps happily and digs in to his breakfast.

"Thank you," he says, nodding his appreciation at Camila and Luz in turn. "And now that he's taken care of, I can finish my pancakes in peace."

He's saved the best for last, soaked the very last bite in a decadent bath of butter, brown sugar cinnamon, and maple syrup. Lifts the fork to his lips, and watches in abject horror as it slides off the end of his fork and falls to the floor with a sickening splat.

"Damn you, pancakes!" Hunter cries, shaking his fist at the sky as he mourns the loss of that last sweet morsel.

"This, truly, is the most devastating thing that has ever happened to you," Gus teases with a melodramatic sigh, reaching out to place a consoling hand on Hunter's shoulder. 

The two share a solemn nod, hands coming up to their foreheads in a silent salute to their fallen brethren, keeping up the act for all of two seconds before they're both bursting out laughing, clutching each other for support as the two of them nearly topple over out of their chairs.

Luz rolls her eyes, exchanging a look of fond exasperation with a smirking, smitten Willow that plainly says they may be idiots, but they're our idiots before slapping down a replacement pancake onto Hunter's plate with a long-suffering sigh.

• • •

Once breakfast has been cleared away — the gang eagerly insisting on using their magic to help wash and dry all the dishes better than Mrs. Noceda's dishwasher ever could — the seven of them all gather around the kitchen table to come up with a game plan for their stay in the human realm.

First thing to figure out is everyone's sleeping arrangements. It was a lucky thing that Luz had always insisted on keeping a set of bunk beds in her room ever since she was a little kid, because while her dreams of hosting tons of sleepovers with her classmates never quite panned out in the human realm, after all this time, she finally got her wish…just, not quite in the way she'd been expecting.

Vee is all too happy to take the top bunk, while Luz settles back into her usual space on the bottom, smiling up at the faded old glow-in-the-dark stars she'd stuck to the underside when she was younger. Camila enlists the boys' help to dig out a set of old camper beds for Amity and Willow in the basement, accidentally losing them amidst a sea of clutter to rival even Eda's collection of old human realm junk in the process.

It's easy enough to find them, though — just follow the sound of hushed giggling and popping plastic and you'll find the pair of them hiding out behind an old desk trying to see how much bubble wrap it would take to make matching spacesuits, inspired by the front cover of an old sci-fi series they found in the closet and instantly became obsessed with.

Though Camila asks about a half dozen times if they're sure they'll be comfortable down here, Gus and Hunter insist that they'd be thrilled to have the basement all to themselves, Hunter offering Gus the couch while he meticulously smoothes out all the wrinkles in his sleeping bag on the floor. (Camila makes a mental note to ask one of her coworkers if they've still got a set of old bunk beds they'd be willing to lend her, now that their twin boys have gone off to college.)

When Luz catches her mother digging through her bedroom drawers to break out all the credit cards she just finished paying off, her guilty conscience is quick to reassure her that they'll all take up part-time to jobs to help pay for everything as soon as possible, launching into a long-winded tale about the time she took up bounty hunting and boarded a pirate ship all so Eda could afford—

"Do you mean…apple juice?" Camila asks, starting with the lesser of many concerning things her daughter just told her.

"You'd think, but no," Luz chuckles weakly, heaving a weary sigh and casting her eyes to the ground. "We won't be a burden on you, mamá. I promise."

"Oh, cariño. Come here," Camila coos, setting down the stack of credit cards she had a feeling she shouldn't cut up just yet, and opening her arms. Luz immediately sinks into the embrace, desperate for more of her mother's hugs after so many months apart. 

"Now, you listen to me," Camila says, voice taking on a stern yet affectionate tone. "You and your friends are not a burden. I promise to do everything in my power to keep you all safe and comfortable for however long you're here. And do you know what I'd like for you all to do for me in return?"

"What's that, mamá?" Luz asks, sniffling slightly as she wipes a stray tear from the corner of her eyes.

"Take your time to settle in and recover from everything you've been through," she says with a gentle smile, hugging her daughter just a little bit tighter. 

"And then, if they'd like to do something to occupy their time — since signing up four new students who could end up leaving at a moment's notice for high school is out of the question right now…although, if they do end up staying long-term and want to attend, I'd be more than happy to forge documentation and come up with a backstory about how they're all foreign exchange students…it technically wouldn't be a lie…Vee and I were just talking about doing the same for her when she—"

"Mom," Luz chuckles, tugging on her shirtsleeves to pull her out of planning mode. "I think we're getting a little ahead of ourselves."

"Right, right. Of course. Well, you can never be too prepared," Camila laughs, pulling back to fix her daughter with an encouraging smile. 

"In any case, once your friends have taken the time to settle in and get used to the human realm, if they would like to find part-time jobs that appeal to their interests in order to earn a little bit of pocket money for themselves, then they're more than welcome to. But for right now, we'll manage," Camila insists, smoothing back her daughter's hair and leaning forward to press a kiss against the top of Luz's forehead.

"Thank you," Luz says, heaving a sigh of relief she feels like she's been holding in for months. "For everything."

"Of course, mija. I meant what I said earlier — your friends are family. Now, let's get back down to the kitchen before your new brothers try to put socks in the blender again," Camila says, smile growing wider when she manages to make Luz snort with laughter.

After a quick raid of Luz's closet to find them all something to wear out for the day, getting creative with different ways to disguise their ears — beanies, bandanas, ear muffs, and side-swept hairstyles — their first stop is the local thrift store, where Willow and Amity find lots of cute sundresses, skirts, trousers, and cardigans in styles they love, Gus gets acquainted with graphic tees and snazzy blazers, and Hunter finally discovers what true comfort is supposed to feel like when he falls in love with their collection of cozy sweaters, button-up shirts, and worn-in jeans.

Next up is the grocery store, where they discover the delights of junk food and free samples. Gus is, of course, captivated by everything like a kid in a candy shop, and has to be reigned in to prevent him from taking home half the store, repeatedly trying to sneak dog biscuits into the cart because he's convinced they're a human realm delicacy ("Luz, I know what I'm talking about. I've seen your human crime documentaries featuring world-renowned canine detective Scooby Doo. Trust me, this is what geniuses eat!")

Hunter's eyes grow wide as he passes by a display of bright yellow crescent-shaped objects with the words IT'S BANANAS HOW LOW OUR PRICES ARE! written across a little chalkboard. He pauses for a moment, hand hovering tentatively over them like he's afraid they're going to bite, before sucking in a brave breath and picking one up.

"Huh, so that's what a banana is," Hunter marvels, squinting suspiciously at the oddly-shaped…fruit???…clutched in the palms of his hands. Not sure what this has to do with mindscapes, but okay, he muses, rushing over to ask Camila if he can take one home to "study" it, eyes lighting up with delight when she laughs and tells him to grab a whole bushel.

Willow is utterly fascinated by all the fresh fruit and veg ("Humans grow so many edible things, and none of them try to bite you back! Wild!") and has to be dragged away before her sweater gets soaked, mesmerized by the produce misters. 

Amity discovers human realm nail polish and ends up sitting opposite Luz later that night trying to copy all the cute designs they find on pinterest.

It's a memorable exit as a shopping cart race down the canned foods aisle between Hunter and Gus nearly gets them all kicked out of the store, but the owner relents when he sees how quickly and efficiently Hunter can stack them all back in a towering pyramid and nearly offers him a job on the spot.

• • •

While Camila is home washing everyone's new clothes and setting up their sleeping arrangements, she encourages them all to go out and get to know the area. So, once they've filled up on lunch, they take to the town with Luz as their tour guide, exploring all the little shops surrounding Gravesfield Park in the town square. Their first stop — entirely by accident — is the local library. They're walking by when Luz and Amity spot the newest book in the Good Witch Azura series on display in the window, and rush in to get their hands on a copy. 

Once inside, they all branch off in different directions — Willow takes a stroll through the gardening section and picks up a couple of books on human realm plants, while Gus fills up a whole cart with books on human history, from the greatest inventions of the last century to all the naturally-occurring wonders of the world, including an entire encyclopedia on ancient reptilian beasts and their evolution to modern day creatures.

While everyone else is distracted, Hunter ventures off to the help desk to ask one of the librarians if they've got any books on the history of Gravesfield, and ends up with a thick hardcover titled The Witch Hunters Of Gravesfield tucked under his arm, and an earful of local lore about The Brothers Wittebane, the tale of two siblings who were lured into a magical world by an witch several hundred years ago, never to be seen again.

"Some say Evelyn dazzled Caleb with magic, and visions of a strange yet beautiful place," the librarian — Masha, according to the nameplate on their desk — says in a hushed whisper, and Hunter can't help but hang on their every word. "Philip set off to save his brother, and bring the witch to justice…but neither were ever seen again!"

"Maybe Philip saved Caleb, and the two of them went on to lead peaceful lives…or maybe he's still chasing his brother, caught in an endless cycle of horror and strife!" Masha exclaims, head thrown back in maniacal laughter in an effort to ramp up the theatrics, overhead lights casting their features in an eerie glow.

"But between you and me," they add in a stage-whisper several seconds later, a playful smirk curling at the corners of their lips. "Sounds like big bro got a hot witch girlfriend and little bro got upset."

And Hunter, despite the rollercoaster of emotions this particular subject has been evoking in him these past few weeks, can't help but snort with laughter, because Masha may well be the only person in this town who actually got the story right.

After bidding his new librarian friend farewell, Hunter wanders off to the fantasy section to see if they've got anything similar to Ruler's Reach, heart leaping into his throat as he catches sight of Willow at the opposite end of the stacks, reaching for a book with a colorful hardcover jacket on the very top shelf.

It's funny. Even though he knew she'd be here, it still catches him off guard to turn a corner and just see her standing there — all that time spent daydreaming about randomly bumping into her at the marketplace or the Bonesborough Library, and now it's finally happening. And — equal parts thrilling and terrifying — not only does he get to see her on a regular basis, Hunter gets to live with her for however long they're stuck here. As silver linings go, this one's sterling.

Hunter can't help but stand there, rooted to the spot, and watch as she lifts up onto her tiptoes, fingertips barely brushing the spine of the book — watches as she makes a slightly breathless, frustrated little sound at the back of her throat, and then gears up like a predatory kitten to make another jump for it — a big goofy grin spreading across his face because oh Titan, she's too cute for words, tripping over his own feet as he rushes over to help her.

He's about a head taller than she is, so when he reaches up he's able to easily grab the book in question for her — something called Cosmic Frontier that Hunter could swear he's seen somewhere before…but at such close proximity to Willow, his brain isn't exactly firing on all cylinders at the moment…either way it looks really interesting, Hunter might have to borrow it from her once she's done with it — handing it down to her with an attempt at his most charming smile.

"Thanks, Hunter," she says, and just like that, Hunter's last brain cell is gone, lost in a long list of flowers that remind him of the faint pink blush blossoming across her cheeks as she gazes up at him with a soft smile, back pressed against the book stacks as Hunter towers over her, forearm casually propped against the shelving the only thing keeping him on his feet, close enough to count the freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose like a dusting of brown sugar cinnamon. 

For one brief, wild moment, Hunter finds himself wondering whether that's what she'd taste like, if he were to lean down and press his lips against—

"Hey guys!" Gus calls out to them as he rounds the corner with an overflowing armful of books. "Luz sent me to come and find you so we could all—" he pauses, eyebrows arching upward in smug curiosity as he takes in the cozy little scene in front of him.

"Soooo…find anything worth checking out?" he asks in a playful lilt, pursing his lips to hold back a snicker as the pair of them jump back from one another, awkwardly coughing and clearing their throats.

"Um…thanks again for the book," Willow says with a sheepish smile, ducking under Hunter's arm to gather up the rest of her loans before strolling ahead to join Gus.

"Guess we're checking out more than just books today," Gus teases in a low murmur as the pair of them link arms and walk on ahead, Hunter trailing close behind.

"Gus!" Willow hisses, playfully elbowing him in the ribs, but Hunter doesn't miss the flustered giggle in her voice as she says it, the way her cheeks flush red as a bard sigil as the two of them round the corner, and that little spark of hope that's been steadily growing inside his chest since the moment he met them glows all the brighter.

Books slung over their shoulders in little tote bags, the five of them make their way downtown, eager to explore the rest of the shops — everything from craft supplies to beauty boutiques, candle outlets to candy parlors. 

After several hours of exploring just about every tourist trap the little town of Gravesfield has to offer, Luz insists they all take a break to refuel at one of her favorite places outside of the Boiling Isles — a quaint little coffee shop called Robin's Roast, home to some of the coziest, most delectable scents the four of them have ever experienced.

Luz, who's still got a little bit of pocket money leftover from last Christmas, invites them all to order whatever they'd like. In retrospect, that may have been a mistake.

Gus is the first brave soul to approach the front counter, striding up with a hearty, "Good afternoon, barkeep!" and slapping his hand down like he'd seen in a number of human realm movies. Luckily, the barista doesn't seem too put off by this behavior (then again, Gus's particular brand of weirdness is cake compared to "Marilyn's" — Luz wonders whether those cursed talking rats are still lurking in the back alley.)

"May I please have a…" he trails off, eyes growing wide as they land on a colorful display written in pink and purple chalk. "…unicorn frappuccino?"

"Excuse me for just one moment," he says, but the bored-looking barista has already turned her back to start preparing his drink. He takes a swift step backward, leveling Luz with an alarmed glare as he whispers, "There aren't any actual unicorns in this, are there?"

"What? No, of course not!" Luz chuckles, stepping up to the till and shelling out a $5 bill to cover the cost. "Fun fact: unicorns are actually a myth here."

"Huh. Weird," Amity remarks, Willow and Hunter nodding in agreement behind her.

"Oh. Good," Gus breathes a sigh of relief. "Because unicorns are beautiful, majestic creatures who deserve our respect and admir—"

"One unicorn frappuccino!" the barista calls out, sliding the brightly colored sugary monstrosity across the counter and into Gus's waiting hands.

"Oh wow, this is terrible," he exclaims, delightedly sipping away at his drink as he moves to stand at the back alongside Hunter.

Next up is Amity, who after a long internal debate, ends up ordering something called a cotton candy frappuccino, blushing up a storm when she admits that the only reason she got it was because it reminded her of the time Luz called her a cotton candy haired goddess, face going full tomato when Luz leans forward and kisses the little dollop of whipped cream off the tip of her nose.

Willow's face splits into a wide grin at the sight of them, briefly glancing back at Hunter before side-stepping the adorable couple to take her place in line.

"What would you recommend for someone who likes flowers and tea?" she asks the barista, and comes back with a fragrant floral blend made from a human realm flower called jasmine, mixed with a thick bright orange liquid called Thai milk tea, topped off with a handful of strange little black bubbles that float around the bottom made from something called tapioca.

Hunter finishes placing his order and steps back into their little circle, watching Willow's eyes turn to crescent moons as she happily sips away at her drink, warmth flooding his chest like sunshine through an open window at the sight of her looking so cheerful.

"It's good?" he works up the nerve to ask her, that same warmth working its way into the tips of his ears as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his patchwork jeans.

"It's amazing," she says, excitedly bounding up to him and holding it out in offering. "You wanna try some?"

Not for the first time, Hunter's entire brain short-circuits, dark red eyes dancing in rapid alarm between the flowery orange drink and Willow's bright, sunny expression, zeroing in on the pleasant shade of pink painted across her lips, so shiny from the watermelon lip balm she'd traded for the last couple of snails in her pocket when they'd explored that little beauty boutique earlier, and—

Oh Titan. Willow's lips have been on that straw. And now she wants him to put his lips where her lips have been???

"Wha— um. Me?" Hunter splutters, huffing out a laugh that's only slightly unhinged. "Are you sure it's…okay?"

"Of course it's okay," Willow snorts, laughing like it's the most ridiculously obvious thing in the world. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Oh, and when she laughs, sunshine dances across her face, making the gloss shimmer like she's got a thousand tiny diamonds on the edge of her lips. 

Hunter swallows thickly, Adam's apple straining against the column of his throat as he reaches out a pair of scarred, shaking hands, wrapping them carefully around hers and bringing the straw to his lips.

He takes a sip, feeling a burst of strange, wonderful flavors across his tongue — all the warmth and coziness of a roaring fire in autumn, simultaneously and seamlessly blended with all the fresh, earthy florals of spring, followed by the unexpected punch of sweet summer watermelon…and while the tea certainly is amazing, Hunter can't help but jot down watermelon as the best flavor he's ever tasted in his entire life.

Funny, he could've sworn it'd be brown sugar cinnamon.

It's at this point he realizes — far too late — that he's been standing there for well over a minute, hands wrapped around her soft plushy fingers as she holds her drink up for him to try a sip — a single sip — and yet here he is downing half the damn thing. Hunter lets out a soft, startled gasp with the straw still in his mouth, accidentally sucking in a mouthful of those strange little black pearls.

"Oh my t— Hunter, are you okay?" Willow exclaims as Hunter nearly chokes to death on boba, reassuring her through a series of very unflattering coughs and splutters that he's a-okay, topping off the whole experience by walking backwards into the front counter mid-wink and finger guns as the barista calls out his order.

"I've got a Red Eye for Hunter!" she says, snickering as she hands him his drink, thoroughly amused by the fact that the guy's face is a perfect match for his bright red coffee cup. Hunter huffs out a mortified thank you and turns back around, ebbing anxiety instantly ramping back up a few notches when he catches the look of mild alarm on Luz's face.

"Hunter," she says slowly, placing special emphasis on his name like she's at his intervention. "That's two shots of espresso in an already caffeinated cup of regular coffee."

Hunter glances down at the little red cup warming his freezing hands.

"Oh yeah, I— I know that," he retorts with a casual wave of his hand, determined not to let it slip that he has no idea what any of those words mean, lest he embarrass himself even further in front of Willow. (Admittedly, he'd only ordered it because it reminded him of Flapjack.)

"Dude, you're gonna be bouncing off the walls in a few minutes," she says, mouth falling open in shock as Hunter tips back the whole thing and downs it all in a few short gulps. (It's fine. It only burns a few layers of skin off the roof of his mouth.)

"I'll be fine," he assures her with a hint of that old Golden Guard bravado, crumpling up the coffee cup and tossing it into a nearby trash can before strolling confidently to the front door, only noticing the pull sign after a few failed attempts of trying to push it open.

(He was not, in fact, fine.)

Within the first few minutes, Hunter wonders whether he's just drank poison and is about to die, head swimming like he's floating through the clouds, breath coming out in short rapid bursts, utterly convinced that his lungs have turned into tiny fragile balloons and if he breathes in too fast he's going to pop them, his heart…well, actually, it isn't racing any faster than it normally does whenever Willow smiles at him, so at least he's used to that. 

And then, all at once, Hunter's body adapts, and suddenly it's the most thrilling sensation he's ever experienced (second only to waking up cuddled next to Willow, of course. Titan, he nearly forgot that's how his morning had started.) 

Soon enough, Hunter is literally vibrating with energy, thoughts buzzing like the wings of a thousand tiny Clovers, usual flimsy filter all but gone as he talks a mile a minute about all the things he learned while he was at the library, skipping and twirling and doing little kick-flips off of trees to let out all the excess energy. 

(Willow can't help but find it all utterly endearing, giggling as he swoops down to collect a fistful of bright yellow flowers, sweeping into a low bow as he hands them to her with a graceful, "For you, Captain.")

"Her name was Evelyn, which kinda sounds an awful lot like Edalyn, don't you think? And that got me wondering…what if the witch that Caleb fell in love with was a Claw—" Hunter falters, stopping short at the sight of a stone statue chiseled in the likeness of two very familiar faces, caffeine high doused like a gust of wind through candlelight. 

He knew there was a memorial in the town square, but hearing about it from the local librarian and actually seeing it in person were two completely different things.

"Is that him?" Hunter asks, glancing up at the stone figure with long, shoulder-length hair tied back into a low ponytail, a scroll clutched in his hands.

Aside from a few brief glimpses in his mindscape, Hunter has never seen a younger version of his uncle before, only ever knew him as the sallow-faced, weathered old man capable of turning that unassuming, kindhearted grin into a cold, cruel sneer faster than it took the sharp vines of his condition to cut the scar across Hunter's jawline.

"That's him," Luz confirms with a clipped, bitter tone, the cut across her eyebrow more prominent than ever before as she narrows them in disgust.

"So this must be…" Hunter ventures, gaze following the path toward the statue of the man in front, with shorter, fluffier hair just like his, signature forelock stubbornly dangling down in front of his eyes.

"Yeah," Luz replies, tone softening as she glances up at the man she'd been affectionately referring to as Wittebro ever since she'd seen the slashed portraits of him in Belos's mindscape.

Hunter takes a few tentative steps forward, eyes narrowed as he studies their faces, two brothers captured in stone, carved in the likeness of local legends turned personal history. It's strange — they've given Philip such a kindhearted, almost innocent countenance, while by comparison Caleb looks much more stoic and pompous, even angry.

Hunter doesn't understand how they could have possibly gotten it so backwards. The images he'd seen of Caleb in Belos's mindscape depicted someone far more relaxed and carefree — not only that, but someone happy, like a piece of the sun lived inside his very smile. Hunter can't help but wonder whether this is what he used to look like, before he found peace in the demon realm. Kind of like how Hunter used to look before he found them.

Huh, he muses as he studies Caleb's features, each one so similar to his own, nearly identical down to the very last detail. So that's what I'll look like when I'm older.

He reaches out to touch the statue, scars winding across the back of his shaking hands a near-perfect match for all the cracks in the stone of Caleb's, palm resting gently over the hand pressed against Caleb's heart, as if to say, I'm here. I made it. A part of you is living on through me.

"I'm sorry for what he did to you," he says out loud in a small, tearful whisper only his four companions can hear. "To both of us. To all of us. But he's gone now, and he can't hurt us anymore."

He feels a comforting weight against his shoulder — and then another, and then another — and soon enough, they're all pressing in, wrapping Hunter in a hug like a shield between him and the memorial of the monster who masqueraded as his hero for so many years. Funny, how you can go through life not even realizing you're drowning until someone comes along and pulls your head above water.

It's nearing sunset by the time they leave the park, but before they all head back home, Luz has one more place she'd like to show them. With her last little bit of pocket money, she treats them all to milkshakes, burgers, and fries, the five of them piling into well-worn leather booths at her favorite 24-hour diner. 

Gus is utterly fascinated by the concept of dipping deep-fried, ground-grown vegetables into sugary cow confections, but concludes that it's delicious in any flavor: chocolate, vanilla, or strawberry, while Hunter discovers a newfound love for them, downing his milkshake a little too fast and giving himself a brain freeze.

"Oh, I can help!" Willow perks up cheerfully, placing her hands on either side of Hunter's forehead in an effort to cure his frozen brain. It doesn't get rid of the headache, but it sure heats up his face, Hunter's entire body an inferno by the time she finally looks away from him.

They set the record for nearly getting kicked out of two places in one day when Luz runs out of fries and attempts to steal one of Hunter's while he's too busy staring at Willow, an all-out war erupting between the five of them, tossing curly fries and ketchup packets at one another from across the table, laughing harder than they have for the first time in weeks.

• • •

Chapter Text

• • •

The first couple of weeks in the human realm passes them by in a dizzying blur, the five of them dedicating nearly every waking hour to research, scouring every corner of the internet for even the slightest hint of lore related to witches, magic, and travel between realms, desperate to find a way back home.

Not wanting to burden an already overcrowded household, they set up headquarters in the abandoned old shack they landed in when they first came through the portal. It's actually kind of nice—

Once they clear out all the debris. 

Patch up all the holes and broken planks with plant magic. 

String up fairy lights and plaster wallpaper in all their favorite colors across every inch of exposed siding, hastily held together with decade-old adhesive and bits of sellotape — one wall blue for Gus, one pink and purple for Luz and Amity, and one green and gold for Hunter and Willow.

Bring in some furniture from the odd assortment of old things cluttering up the basement — a careworn and heavily patched armchair, an old bean bag chair with a tear in one of the sides slowly spilling out styrofoam beads, a cooler and a mini fridge for snack breaks, and last but not least, a massive cork board spanning the length of the green and gold wall, filled with pinned-up research papers and potential leads, maps marking major landmarks all across the state where other portals might possibly be hiding —

And, most importantly, a collection of drawings of all their beloved friends and family members — a reminder of what they're fighting for, why they should never give up hope. Hunter hesitates for a moment as he watches everyone pinning up their sketches, eyes catching the longest on Willow's depiction of her smiling fathers, complete with the missive we're fine, Willow! in a cheerful little speech bubble above their heads, tentatively clutching a drawing of the former Abomination Coven Head in his hands. 

With an encouraging smile from Willow, Hunter takes a deep breath, steps forward, and pins it right next to Gilbert and Harvey, allowing himself to picture it for a moment — his own room in some cozy little cottage in the countryside, Darius pounding on the bathroom door in his purple silk pajamas and plushy overpriced slippers, bemoaning the fact that Hunter takes way too long to style his hair for school in the mornings, the two of them trading affectionate insults across the breakfast table over a home-cooked meal they made together, and— yeah, he muses, lips turning up at the corners, he could get used to that.

In time, the old shack ends up becoming a sort of clubhouse where the five of them — and Vee, who kindly offers to help them in any way that she can — can plot and research and experiment as they try to find a way to build a portal back to the demon realm, figuring that if they've got any chance of reopening the rift, then their best bet is to set it up in the same place they first came out of.

After weeks of research and planning, they finally manage to get some semblance of a portal up and running, Luz excitedly exclaiming that she can almost see the telltale green and gold glow of the world between worlds flicker to life — but just as quickly as it appears, it's gone, entryway to their newly-renovated clubhouse catching fire from the exertion of the power it took to open the rift, nearly taking out the surrounding trees if not for Vee's quick thinking.

Luz's knees sink into the rain-soaked grass, tears welling in her eyes as the crumbling remains of the failed portal quell from flames to cinders. In an instant, Amity is by her side, arms wrapped around her girlfriend's shoulders. And then Willow, and then Gus, and then Hunter and Vee, all crowded around her like a forcefield.

"It's all my fault," she whimpers, shoulders shaking from the effort of trying not to cry, fists balled in the fabric of Amity's shirt. "None of you would be stuck here if I hadn't—"

"Hey, none of that," Amity coos, gently carding her fingers through Luz's hair. "We've been over this. It wasn't your fault."

"But I'm the one who taught Belos the light spell!" Luz sobs, misery wracking her voice. "I'm the one who led him to the Collector! If I hadn't gone through that time pool, none of this would have ever—"

"Luz," Hunter stops her, a gentle hand coming up to rest against her shoulder. "Amity's right. You're not at fault for helping Belos any more than I am for being created by him. All you did was be kind to a stranger…like you were to me when we first met."

Luz lifts her head, tears in her eyes as she gazes up at him.

"Everything Belos did is on him, so don't you dare go taking responsibility for that monster's actions," Hunter urges, that small flicker of a grateful smile fading to a grimace. "That's what he does — he tricks and manipulates people. And if it wasn't you, then it could have just as easily been someone else. At least it was someone who's smart and quick on their feet, someone willing to fight back and make things right."

"Hunter," Luz heaves a watery chuckle, wiping a stray tear from the corner of her eyes. "When did you get so good at giving comforting pep talks?"

"I had a little help from a very inspiring captain," he says with a would-be-casual shrug, ears turning pink as he catches sight of Willow beaming at him from across Luz's other shoulder.

"But I still—" Luz falters, exhaling on a weary sigh. "I still feel so guilty that you guys are stuck here. This world must be so strange to you."

"No stranger than the demon realm must've been to you," Gus counters with an encouraging smile. "And you survived there for months."

"Not just survived, you blossomed," Willow chimes in, giving Luz's shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "If you'll pardon the plant pun."

Luz barks out a laugh, hugging her first-ever friend a little bit harder. She glances up in time to catch Hunter quickly looking away from Willow, remnants of a big, goofy grin fading from his features.

"You put so much effort into trying to find a way back to your mom," Amity says, pressing a kiss against Luz's temple. "But that didn't stop you from enjoying your time in the demon realm. And maybe…maybe that's what we should be doing, too."

Amity crouches down in front of her until they're eye level, thumb coming up to swipe a stray tear from the corner of her eyes, gently skimming across the deep, blue-grey patches underneath them — a perfect match for everyone else's. They've been at this for weeks, sleepless nights spent staring at screens and poring over books and articles until their eyes shone more red than white, haunting that broken-down little shack at the end of their street more than their own home.

"We'll find a way back home eventually, but we can't keep burning ourselves out like this," Amity says, thumb rubbing soothing circles against the curve of Luz's jaw. "We'll keep trying. We'll never lose hope. But maybe we should also focus on just enjoying our time here, too — make the most of living in a different world, just like you did in ours."

"What we need is balance," Willow says. "Little breaks in between to relax and take our mind off things."

Luz glances between the two of them, then to Gus and Hunter, who nod in agreement. She'd never noticed until just this moment how tired they all look.

"You're right," she says, exhaling on a slow, heavy sigh, the weight of feeling like she has to do this all alone, do this right now, lifting ever so slightly from her shoulders.

They won't be of any use to anyone if they're burned out all the time. They need balance. They need levity. They need—

A small smile spreads across her lips as the perfect plan unfolds inside her head.

"I think I know just the thing."

• • •

The following Saturday marks a weekend tradition in the making as the six of them pile into the living room for a big group sleepover, staying up late playing video games—

They work their way through all of Luz's multi-players, starting with Super Smash Bros and ending with Mario Kart (Luz hastily hides her copy of Hollow Knight, knowing full well that that's the last thing Hunter needs to see right now.) 

Luz should've realized it would get competitive — after all, last time they were all in the demon realm playing Monstropoly at Eda's, Gus threatened to eat all the pieces if Luz bought out another one of his Coastal Cartilages in the Titan's Ribcage.

They get so loud, Camila ends up having to come downstairs at one o'clock in the morning to shush them because they're all yelling at each other for playing dirty, throwing banana peels and blue shells into each other's paths. (Not that it matters. Vee ends up kicking all their asses every time anyway.)

Eating junk food—

Hunter laughs when Gus crushes a handful of potato chips into a pint of moose tracks and proclaims himself a genius, but he can't disagree when he takes a bite. Also, ice cream is a wonderful invention, though Hunter is pretty sure they have that in the demon realm too — Belos just never let him have any.

He tries a piece of sour candy that makes his whole face scrunch up and his mouth water like crazy, causing Willow to giggle at him before popping a whole handful of sour patch kids into her mouth in an effort to show him up.

This leads to a competition to see who can fit the most jumbo-sized marshmallows into their mouths — Luz wins, which Amity claims is cheating, since Luz is a sugar fiend and has therefore had the most practice.

And marathoning movies—

Determined to make this group sleepover worlds better than their first, the six of them construct an elaborate blanket fort in the middle of the living room floor, one of Luz's star-spangled sheets hanging over them like a canopy, giving them the illusion of sleeping under the stars, and pile underneath it to watch a movie Luz queued up from the ancient early 2000's — the first in a series of eight films about a boy who keeps narrowly escaping death at the hands of some creepy weird snake man, featuring witches and a magic school just like theirs, except—

"That's not how magic works!" Willow exclaims through a mouthful of popcorn, frustratedly throwing her hands into the air. "Where are their palismen?"

"Why isn't their choosy hat eating anyone? It just sits on their heads and decides a coven track for them? That's so boring," Gus complains, accepting a handful of popcorn as Willow passes him the bowl.

"Yeah, and what kind of coven is Gryffindor, anyway?" Hunter chimes in, nose buried in the last few scoops of Gus's moose track potato chip monstrosity. "Beast-keeping? Their sigil isn't even a griffin. It's just some kind of…big yellow version of Ghost."

"And what's the deal with Quidditch?" Amity asks, wrinkling her nose. "It's essentially just a rip-off of Grudgby — they've even got a rusty smidge!"

"Well, listen, if you guys really hate it that much, we can just—" Luz says, moving to shuffle through the list of other movies stored on her laptop, but before she can even so much as click out of the folder, five voices call out to stop her, insisting that now they've started, they might as well see how it ends.

Hunter finds it hard to concentrate on the second movie, eyes fixed on Willow as she twirls the end of one of her braids around the tip of her finger, so caught up in the herbology scene that she ends up pulling the whole thing loose.

"Aww, shoot!" she says, frowning as she glances down at the little green hair tie in the palm of her hand.

"It's okay, I can redo them for you," Amity says, shifting a little closer to sit behind Willow, braiding hands at the ready.

"Actually, I've been meaning to ask you…would you mind teaching me how to do it myself?" Willow asks, tugging her other braid loose so that her hair falls in even layers around her shoulders.

"Of course!" Amity says, looking momentarily crestfallen before rearranging her features into a supportive smile. Hunter, it seems, is the only one who catches this little glitch in her system — and for a moment, he wonders whether Amity had been worried that if she taught Willow how to do it on her own, Willow might not need her anymore.

Interesting. Hunter doesn't know a whole lot about what happened between Willow and Amity before he met them — Willow doesn't like to dwell on it, just insists that it's all in the past now, and they're working through it — but from what he can gather, there used to be some pretty bad blood between them, with Willow primarily on the receiving end. And while he can't fathom the idea of anyone being unkind to Willow, Hunter can't help but feel a little relieved by the fact that he's not the only one in the group with a complicated history and mistakes to make up for.

He wishes he could reassure her, without having to say it in front of the others — It's okay, they forgive us. We don't have to prove our usefulness to them, all we have to do is be their friend. — but does his best to convey it in an encouraging smile.

Which backfires in the most spectacular way when Amity pipes up, "Hunter! Your hair is long enough to practice on! Why don't you come sit in front of Willow so she'll have a model to work with while I teach her how to braid."

In that moment, Hunter can't decide whether he hates the youngest Blight, or owes her his life.

"Oh, I— um…okay," he stutters, crawling on wobbly hands and knees to perch in front of Willow, while to his left, Luz does the same for Amity.

It's a sweet kind of torture, sitting between Willow's legs, trying so hard not to make a sound — a soft contented sigh or Titan forbid a moan — letting his eyes flutter closed and roll back as Willow cards careful fingers through his hair, gently massaging sixteen years' worth of tension headaches away with a few simple strokes, little shivers winding down the length of his spine as blunt fingernails softly scrape against his scalp.

"Wow, Hunter. Your hair is so soft," Willow sighs, and Hunter's entire body heats up like a forest fire, blushing and preening at her praise.

He doesn't dare move, content to sit in front of Willow long after she's already mastered all the different styles (and some he's not even sure are real, just made up spur of the moment by Amity to keep him there a little longer, exchanging giggling glances with Luz every time Hunter turns an even deeper shade of scarlet) and let her absentmindedly run her fingers through his hair as they watch the rest of the movie, all six of them cheering on the basilisk.

It's nearing dawn by the time they all start settling in, stifling yawns as they fluff their pillows and pull their blankets up over their shoulders. Gus and Vee are out cold before the opening credits roll for Prisoner of Azkaban, with Willow following close behind them, head half on the pillow, half lolling against Hunter's shoulder.

Not wanting her to get a crick in her neck, Hunter carefully adjusts so that he's laying a respectable distance away from her, ensuring that Willow's head is comfortably cradled in the middle of his pillow before claiming a small corner of it for himself. But evidently, sleepy time Willow isn't having it, closing the distance between them with a few short grumbling wriggles, snuggling back in and burying her face in Hunter's chest, one arm thrown over his hips to tug him closer.

Hunter patently ignores the hushed giggles and teasing oohs coming from Luz and Amity's side of the blanket fort as he wraps a tentative arm around Willow's waist and holds her close, though he can't help the big goofy grin that curls across his face as he closes his eyes and breathes in that familiar, heady mix of scents he's been missing these past few weeks — mint, basil, chamomile tea — like a breath of fresh air in a springtime garden after a long, cold mission on the Knee.

• • •

Chapter Text

• • •

One afternoon in late summer, Hunter walks into the living room to find Willow curled up on the couch, doubled over, wincing in pain.

"Captain!" he practically shouts, skidding his knees on the carpet as he rushes to her side. He sees her face scrunch up in discomfort, realizes how screechy his voice must have come off in his panicked concern, and immediately lowers it to a whisper.

"What happened? Are you hurt? Have you been injured? How can I help?"

To his surprise, Willow lets out a soft giggle, fixing him with a smile that makes his insides turn to molten abomination goo.

"Don't worry, it's nothing like that," she reassures him, fond smile fading to a grimace as another wave of whatever's plaguing her washes over her. "I've just, um…never had to deal with a period before? At least, not like this. Back home, I've always been able to take a potion that would kind of just mute the worst parts of it. But the human realm doesn't have potions, so I'm experiencing the full effects. And it's…let's just say 'not fun' is an understatement."

"Understood," Hunter replies with an automatic, soldier-like nod, even though he really, really doesn't.

He's heard the term before, tossed around in passing by lower-ranking coven scouts and members of the healing coven, usually accompanied by sympathetic nods or groans of commiseration. 

He knows it has something to do with reproduction, but his education had always been severely lacking in that department. Belos not only thought it unnecessary for him to know, but would often become downright angry any time he'd ever been brave enough to broach the subject (though, considering the fact that Philip came from a puritanical background and literally murdered his own brother for the crime of falling in love with a witch and starting a family with her, he's beginning to understand why — Belos didn't want to risk Hunter ever doing the same when he was old enough, and he must have thought keeping him in the dark would be the best way to prevent it.)

He'd always been too scared to even sneak a book about it like he'd so often done with wild magic  — at least that he could justify as a means of serving the coven, trying to find a cure for his uncle's condition. Now that Belos is dead and gone, however, Hunter is free to learn about whatever he wants. He's definitely eager to learn about this subject, especially if it'll help him assist Willow. And he thinks he knows just who to ask.

"I'll be right back," Hunter assures her, bounding back up onto his feet and whisking away to the upper floor.

Ms. Camila is a type of healer, so there's a good chance she'll be able to explain it to him. From what little he's heard, it seems to work the same way for humans as it does for witches, so if he learns about it from one source, it should be enough to cover all his bases.

Hunter's knuckles hover over the splintered wood of her bedroom door, suddenly nervous — a knee-jerk reaction to all those times he'd ever gotten in trouble for asking Belos. But Ms. Camila isn't like Belos, and Willow is counting on him. So he takes a deep breath. Steels his nerves. And knocks.

A few seconds later, Mrs. Noceda appears in the doorframe, several pairs of freshly laundered scrubs stacked into a neatly folded pile on her bed, which she'd evidently just been putting away.

"Hunter, mijo, is everything alright? You look a little frazzled," she says, tilting her head to the side in concern.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Ms. Camila, but um…Willow says she's on her period, and I was wondering if you could tell me what that is and what I can do to help," Hunter blurts out in a flustered rush, instinctively hiking up his shoulders and dodging his head a vine's width to the right.

"Oh, niño precioso!" Camila gasps, clapping a hand over her mouth and emitting a high-pitched squeal identical to the one Luz makes whenever she sees a fluffy animal.

"Yes, yes of course. I've got a few books on the subject," she says, ushering him inside and sitting him down for a conversation she calls "the birds and the bees." Fitting, he supposes, considering his and Willow's palismen are literally a bird and a bee.

It ends up having absolutely nothing to do with birds, or bees, or palismen, but he learns a lot. Evidently, Mrs. Noceda's initial reaction comes from personal experience, as an alarming number of human realm inhabitants are apparently put off by the subject, so Hunter's willingness to learn and help is considered a rarity. Hunter doesn't understand why — it's a perfectly natural bodily function, and it's not like they choose to go through it, so the ones who don't have to suffer through it should at least try to make the ones who do as comfortable as possible.

Half an hour later, Hunter comes bounding back into the living room with an armful of "supplies," dumping at least a dozen of what look like little white mice and flat bats (or "tampons" and "pads" as Mrs. Noceda had called them) out onto the couch cushions beside her, before unraveling a cord wrapped around a heated blanket, plugging it into the nearest outlet, and setting it to a medium heat.

Willow thinks surely that must be the end of it, but then he's pulling a handful of little chocolates wrapped in silver foil out of one pocket, and a bottle of pain relieving medication out of the other. Before she can so much as splutter out a surprised thank you Hunter, he's rushing off to the kitchen, and coming back two minutes later with a steaming mug of her favorite tea, as well as his favorite pair of watermelon print pajama pants slung over his right shoulder, informing her that she's more than welcome to borrow them if she'd like something a little comfier to wear today.

"Hunter, what—" she starts, a giddy rush of affection spilling inside her like he's just tipped the contents of her chamomile tea into her chest, momentarily quelling the pain.

"Mrs. Noceda explained everything to me," he blurts out in a flustered rush. "I wanted to help, but I didn't know what a period was, so I asked, and…well, now I know. Ms. Camila told me how it all works, and then gave me the supplies to give to you, and I…I hope they help, at least a little? Titan, I…what you have to go through, it sounds horrible. I'm so sorry you have to deal with this, Willow."

"That's—" Willow falters, so overcome by the sweet sincerity of his voice, the way his eyebrows pull together like his pain is hers, lower lip jutting out in a frown. "Thank you, Hunter," she says, sighing his name like a breath of relief, the soft cadence of it sending shock waves straight through Hunter's chest.

"Y-yeah. Of course, Captain," he stutters as she makes her way toward the bathroom with his pajama pants slung over her shoulder, pausing to smile back at him before she rounds the corner and closes the door. "Happy to help."

A few minutes later, Willow comes shuffling out of the bathroom looking marginally less uncomfortable but still a little out of sorts, hands shoved into the cheerfully pink watermelon print pockets of Hunter's all-time favorite pajamas, bottoms bunched up around her ankles because oh right she's very small and he's about a head taller than her (and oh, he never realized what a grip to the heart seeing her wearing his clothes would be, but Titan, she's so adorable, he has half a mind to tell her to just keep them.) 

She settles back in on the couch, wrapping herself up in the heated blanket like a little witchling burrito, reads the directions on the back of the medicine bottle, and takes two of something called ibuprofen with a sip of her cooled-off tea. 

Hunter isn't entirely certain what he's supposed to do now — does she want his company, or would she rather be left alone? Mrs. Noceda mentioned something about how this time of the month can also greatly affect a person's mood, and he doesn't want to risk overwhelming or annoying her. 

He doesn't realize he's vocalized his concerns aloud until Willow asks him, in a soft, shy voice, if he wouldn't mind staying, lifting up the blanket so he can settle in next to her. Hunter breathes a sigh of relief and eagerly joins her, the warmth of her and the heated blanket a welcome change from the cold, rainy weather outside.

"Mrs. Noceda also told me where babies come from," Hunter drops nonchalantly into the comfortable silence, and Willow chokes on another sip of her tea. "She gave me a book. It had diagrams."

"Oh no," Willow replies, giggling uncontrollably.

"Yeah, the uh…making them part sounds nice," he admits in a small, sheepish voice, face going up in flames. "But the birth part sounds all kinds of horrible. Though I guess if you want kids, it's worth it?"

He pauses for a moment, and then asks shyly, "Do you, um…want them…someday?"

Willow blinks a few times, not expecting that line of questioning. She supposes she's never really given it much thought before. She mulls it over for a moment, trying to imagine what her life might be like in ten, fifteen years' time. Pictures herself living in a cozy little cottage filled to the brim with plants, cuddled up on the couch with her future spouse, reading a book of fairy tales aloud to a little girl with bright green eyes just like hers, and light blonde hair just like—

Oh. 

Well, that's an interesting development.

"Maybe," she replies, hoping she can blame the sudden flush in her cheeks on being wrapped up in a heated blanket. "If I found the right person to settle down with," she adds, casting him a side-eyed glance.

Just then, a sudden thought occurs to her, though she isn't exactly sure how to go about asking without potentially coming off as insensitive. Willow dithers for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to phrase it, but in the end, curiosity outweighs propriety, and she blurts out, "Do you know if— can grimwalkers have kids?"

This time it's Hunter's turn to blink in surprise.

"I…don't know," he falters, caught off guard. He never thought he'd be allowed that particular aspect of life, what with his dedication to the coven, so he'd never really given it much thought. But now that he has, he supposes…yeah, that might be nice. Someday. If he found the right plant witch person to settle down with.

"I haven't been able to find much on the lore, given…well, everything that's happened…but what I do know is that I'm apparently made from some of the same sources as palismen, and the Bat Queen is a mother of three, so…I think so? Everything else functions the way it's supposed to, so I can't imagine that particular aspect would be an exception. I think I would just have the same DNA as the original — as Caleb. So…if I wanted to, someday…I think I probably could."

A small, wondrous smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he says the words out loud. So much has changed for him these past few weeks, an infinite realm of possibilities suddenly open to him. He can choose his own destiny now, make his own life, do whatever makes him happy. It's simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating.

He allows himself to picture it for a moment — a cozy little cottage painted in earthy hues of green and gold, plants in every shape and color suspended from the ceiling in little planters, sunshine pouring through a big bay window in the living room, a big comfortable couch where the two of them would read to a little girl and a little boy, one with bright green eyes and light blond hair just like his, one with bright red eyes and dark hair the color of a midnight sky, with matching gold-framed glasses perched on the edge of their freckled noses, smiling cheerfully up at him with a little gap between their two front teeth — and for a moment, Hunter's heart feels so full he thinks it might burst.

Willow hums thoughtfully, draining the last of her chamomile tea and setting it down onto the coffee table, before settling in a little closer and leaning her head against Hunter's shoulder — partly because it feels so nice being snuggled up next to him, but primarily so that he can't see the faint pink blush blossoming across the apples of her cheeks as she says, "That's good to know."

Chapter Text

• • •

Camila is incredibly thankful she decided to get that minivan a few months back, otherwise trying to drive six kids to five different jobs every other morning would've been a nightmare. 

Everyone had been relatively excited about the prospect of taking on a part-time job, eager to learn more about the human realm and earn their own collection of human snails — and they all seem to have chosen jobs that appeal to their varied interests (that, luckily, don't seem to mind paying under the table.)

Luz and Vee have a passion for helping animals, and Luz is eager to spend more time with her mother, so it seemed like the perfect fit for the two of them to intern at Camila's vet clinic. Though Luz figures she should probably be spending more time behind the desk checking in patients rather than rolling around on the floor playing with them. Will that stop her? Absolutely not.

The florist who owns the The Golden Garden offers Willow a job before she even has the chance to ask, impressed by her expertise in plant care, and because she'd somehow managed to take the owner's wilting succulents in her window display and bring them back to life within minutes — almost like magic.

The owner — Ivy Plantar — adores Willow for her delightfully sunny personality and genuine interest in her craft, and Willow loves learning all about the care and keeping of human realm plants, enraptured as Ivy delves into the lore of floriography, and how the meanings and symbolism of human realm flowers differ from those in the demon realm.

Gus gets hired at the Town Square Cineplex on enthusiasm alone, utterly fascinated by human illusions. The manager is impressed with his ability to somehow man both the ticket booth and the concession stand at the same time — almost as if there were two of him.

Most of the time, Gus lets his illusions do all the work while he sneaks into the film booth and watches the movies from up on high, trying not to crunch too loudly as he stuffs handfuls of caramel popcorn into his mouth. He considers the fact that he's seen the new Star Wars movie a grand total of 24 times in the span of two weeks a bragging point (and Hunter heartily backs him up.)

Since his first trip to the library, Hunter has developed something of a friendship with Masha the librarian, who was all too happy to offer him and Amity a job when they'd asked (in exchange for introducing them to their cute friend Vee.) Hunter is grateful for the peace and quiet it affords him, a sense of purpose and order, the relaxing repetitive task of organizing the book stacks and helping people find the knowledge they seek.

More than that, it's overwhelmingly freeing having the ability to research any topic he likes at any given moment, free from restrictions and limitations, from the ever-looming worry that someone will catch him and punish him for wanting to learn about a "forbidden" topic. Nothing is off-limits here.

For Amity, it's like having a little piece of home in a strange new world, some semblance of normalcy. The Gravesfield Library isn't so different from the one back in Bonesborough — computers are a lot like crystal balls, and none of the books try to bite you when you accidentally re-shelve them in the wrong section, which Amity considers a plus. Here, she settles easily into roles she would've taken on at the Bonesborough Library, earning a keycard to access the archives filled with one-of-a-kind texts, and volunteering to read aloud at story time for the kids.

It can get pretty quiet at the library, and their supervisor has reminded them on a number of occasions that they're allowed to bring music to listen to while they're on re-shelving duty if they'd like, so Luz lets Amity and Hunter borrow some older models of her iPod and loads them up with some music she downloaded in an effort to introduce them to human bards — the top 1,000 most popular songs of the past two decades.

Luz has a feeling this bad but sad boy is really gonna like some of the early 2000's emo pop punk bands in particular, so she makes sure to load his music player up with plenty of Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco, and MCR, too. (She gives it a week before he's asking Amity to paint his nails black and getting emotional over a single piano note in the key of G Major.)

They're all in the backseat early one morning, Hunter struggling to untangle his ear friends (ear buddies? — he's not exactly sure) so he can test out this Eye Pod thing before his shift starts, wanting to make sure he remembers everything Luz had explained to him about how to work the damn thing, when he hears a lyric that confuses him.

Camila and Luz have been encouraging all of them to ask as many questions as they'd like about the human realm, so not even ten seconds into the strange upbeat melody composed by some kind of royal bard (Lady…Something, he can't remember) Hunter rips the little earfriend out of his ear and asks Luz what it means, repeating the lyric in question out loud for the whole car to hear.

"What's a disco stick?" Hunter asks, and Camila nearly swerves into oncoming traffic.

"What?" Luz splutters, choking on her morning cocoa.

"This human music you gave me to listen to — some of the lyrics are a little confusing. I know that 'sick' means 'good' now," he says, smiling at his flyer derby captain, the tips of his ears turning pink at the memory of her complimenting his flying skills. "But what does 'I want to take a ride on your disco stick' mean? Is it anything like riding on a staff?"

"Uh…in a…in a way, yes," Luz stumbles over her answer, voice lower than gravel, and Camila gasps dramatically, snorting with laughter and playfully smacking her daughter across the shoulder.

"So Flapjack is a disco stick?" Hunter asks, wrinkling his nose.

"Oh my god, please don't ever refer to Flapjack as a disco stick," Luz cackles, snorting exactly like both of her mothers.

"Well what does it mean, then?" Hunter asks, starting to get frustrated.

"It's uh…a euphemism…for a particular part of your body," Luz answers vaguely. "And 'taking a ride' means, uh…"

"Oh!" Willow gasps, cottoning on.

"I don't get it. What does it mea— oh Titan, no," Amity groans, realization dawning.

From the other side of the backseat, Gus buries his face in his hands, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. He'd found an old music player once among Eda's collection of human garbage, so he already knows exactly what song they're talking about.

Hunter, bless him, still has no idea.

Willow dithers, torn between setting her face on fire and leaving Hunter in the dark. After a few more awkward moments of Hunter looking adorably confused, Willow takes pity on him, and leans in to whisper in his ear.

"Oh," he says, nodding in understanding.

It takes a few seconds for the impact of her words to sink in, and then—

"OH," he exclaims loudly, eyes widening in mortified horror.

"Oh," this one whispered softly, scarlet painting the hollows of his cheeks in blotchy patches as he slumps down in his seat and prays to the Titan that it'll swallow him whole.

His blush lasts all throughout his shift, haunted by the feeling of Willow's warm breath ghosting across his ear, the way she'd whispered, "It means 'I want to have sex with you,'" sending a whole forest fire's worth of flames down the length of his spine, the delicate shade of pink that rose in her cheeks as she'd wished him a good shift, both of them immediately averting their gaze after chancing a glance at one another.

In fact, he's pretty sure he doesn't stop blushing until later that night, well after everyone else has gone to bed, lying awake in the bottom bunk, cursing the existence of human bards.

• • •

Chapter Text

• • •

Glyphs may not work in the human realm, but witches and palismen retain their magic wherever they go, so in an effort to help out with expenses and supplies, Amity, Willow, and Gus have been putting their magical education to good use and practicing what little they've learned about replication spells. So far, there's been very little progress, only managing a half-materialized sandwich that crumbles to dust seconds later, or managing to get the cloned object to look like a sandwich, only to have it taste like abomination goo, dirt and grass, or, in Gus's case, absolutely nothing, because it's just an illusion.

Until one day in mid-October, Gus successfully replicates Amity's concealment stone (which she'd luckily thought to take with her) magical qualities and all. He shows Amity and Willow how he did it (after all, it requires someone skilled in illusion magic, since that's essentially what a concealment stone is) and together, they each successfully perform their own replications, giving them five concealment stones — one each for Amity, Willow, Gus, Hunter, and Vee (because shapeshifting to keep up with her human form can get exhausting.) Now, everyone can conceal their pointed witches' ears without having to rely on hats or headphones! 

This also comes in handy when they decide they want to go all out and dress up for Halloween.

Autumn is in full swing in the human realm, bringing with it cooler weather, cozy atmospheres, and most importantly, Luz's favorite holiday: Halloween. The demon realm doesn't really have Halloween, given that they're kind of living the aesthetic 24/7, so the Hexsquad is intrigued as they listen to Luz gush about all her favorite things about spooky season.

They're walking around town together, marveling at the change in scenery — in little over a month, the world around them has gone from lush greenery and golden sunlight to misty gray mornings and bright, fiery hues of red, orange, and yellow. Hunter walks along between Gus and Willow, delighting in the satisfying crunch the leaves make under his sneakers. He doesn't know why, but he has the strongest urge to gather them all up into a big pile and leap head-first into it. He's thinking about suggesting the idea to Willow and Gus, when Luz says something that catches his attention, banishing all other thoughts from his head.

"…and then the neighbors give you free candy," she concludes, while Amity nods sagely like she's listening in on a very important lecture.

"Free candy?" Gus and Hunter echo in unison, earning them a sigh from Willow that's half-fond, half-exasperated.

You see, the two of them have become little sugar fiends since they started living in the human realm. The demon realm has its own variety of candy, of course, but human realm junk food just hits different, maybe because it doesn't have nearly as many restrictions or regulations as demon realm junk food, making it far less healthy and thus far more appealing to their taste buds. And without a constant source of supervision to keep them all in line (listen, Camila does her best, but working long hours and looking after six kids is exhausting, she can't always keep track of everything) they've gone a little wild.

You'd think they would've learned their lesson after the dozen sundaes incident, wherein the two of them snuck into the kitchen late one night to raid the fridge and managed to eat their way through twelve bowls of ice cream, only to throw it all up a few minutes later and try to hide it with an illusion until they could figure out how to work a vacuum cleaner, which they mistook for some kind of fancy human realm mop, and then proceeded to break — but alas, the sugar addiction is just too strong.

"And what exactly do we have to do in order to obtain this free candy?" Gus asks, arching a plotting eyebrow.

"I'm glad you asked," Luz replies with a mischievous smile, leading them through the entryway of a shop decked out from top to bottom in Halloween decorations. All at once, five sets of eyes grow wide with wonder.

Gus goes wild for all the realistic-looking decorations, the bloodier the better (though he adamantly avoids the section with clown costumes.) He and Hunter make a game out of trying on the most gruesome masks they can find and jumping out from around corners to try and scare each other, dissolving into fits of laughter every time because really? This is what passes for scary in the human realm? Most of these masks are just faces in a regular Tuesday crowd at the Bonesborough Marketplace.

In the end, it's Willow who manages to win their impromptu little game of hide, seek, and scare when she finds a bright red plastic pitchfork, hides behind a rack of devil's costumes, and pokes an unsuspecting Hunter right in his invaluable assets, causing him to yelp and blush brighter than a set of devil's horns when he turns around and sees her beaming at him through a set of plastic vampire teeth, cackling like a pantomime villain.

"Muahahahaha! I am a creature of the night and you are my unsuspecting catch!" she shouts, giggling madly as she bounds up to Hunter and wraps her arms around his shoulders in a tackle hug. "And with my razor-sharp teeth, I shall bite your neck and turn you into a vampire just like me!"

But because she's about a head shorter than him, Willow ends up tugging Hunter a little too close to her face, and in the sudden impact, Hunter stumbles, shivering as he feels her lips accidentally brush against the side of his neck. Before he knows it, he's instinctively tilting his head back to grant her even more access, mumbling a soft, eagerly accepting, "Okay."

Willow freezes, uttering a soft surprised little oh the moment her lips make contact with Hunter's neck, pulse jumping like a staccato beneath his skin. She abruptly pulls back, eyes wide, cheeks flushed a sunburnt shade of pink.

"Um…gotcha! Ha! Now you're a vampire too!" she exclaims, voice squeaking an octave higher than its usual register as she slaps a pair of plastic glow-in-the-dark vampire teeth down in the palm of his hand and turns to run away, toppling over several dozen bins filled with fake plastic swords and pitchforks as she bolts to the front of the store. Meanwhile, Hunter is left standing there, staring after her, fingertips smoothing over the spot on his neck where her lips had just been.

It takes him a little while to make his way back to the front of the store (Gus literally has to drag him out of his trance) where he finds Willow fawning over a selection of funky patterned socks and tights, trying to decide whether she wants the ones with the little bats or the little fear gourds.

"Those are pumpkins, Willow," Luz laughs from the other side of the display, choosing a pair of purple and white striped socks to match her favorite sweatshirt.

"No, Luz. Trust me. They're fear gourds, and if you're not careful, the little light inside will steal your soul," Willow warns, deadly serious frown flickering to a bright, cheerful grin as she adds, "Aren't they just adorable?"

"Oh, Hunter. Hi!" Willow exclaims, cheeks taking on a soft pink hue as her gaze lingers a little longer than necessary on Hunter's neck. "Which pair do you think I should get — the fear gourds or the little black bats?"

"You would look cute in literally any of them," he blurts without thinking, startling a snort of laughter out of Gus.

Willow arches her eyebrows in surprise, blush deepening to a bright cherry tomato.

"Uh— I just mean— the socks are cute, so by that logic, you would look cute wearing— um— fuck," Hunter falters, suddenly becoming very interested in a Little Red Riding Hood costume on a higher-up rack, only to realize it's one of the scantily-clad options in the adults-only section, and dashes down the opposing aisle with a mortified yelp.

Gus watches the whole catastrophe unfold, doubled over with laughter, while Luz and Amity exchange an entire conversation with an increasingly giddy Willow using just their eyebrows.

In the end, Willow decides on a completely different pair that she finds last-minute — bright green with glittering golden stripes. She doesn't know why, but the combination of those two colors just looks really nice together.

From there, Luz introduces them to all things caramel apple and pumpkin spice, taking them to Robin's Roast to try the newest holiday flavors. After that, she takes them to the little candle shop in town so they can smell all the holiday scented candles…which Gus and Hunter both attempt to eat, despite Luz's several warnings — "Been there, my dudes. Trust me, it is not worth the stomach ache. Just because it smells good, doesn't mean it tastes good."

Gus still ends up taking a bite of one labeled Blueberry Pancakes, and gets asked to leave by the store owner — "Look, if they didn't want us to eat it, then they shouldn't have named it after human food."

Hunter backs him up, confessing that he was about two seconds away from trying to drink one labeled Coffee Shop because it smelled exactly like the inside of Robin's Roast, and the only thing deterring him were the lit wicks.

On the walk back home, toasty cups of salted caramel cocoa, spiced apple cider, and pumpkin spice coffee clutched in their hands, they debate what they should all dress up as for Halloween, Luz exclaiming that she's always wanted to do a group cosplay, but never had friends who wanted to before now. Vee already has plans with Masha and her friends from summer camp (who, luckily for Vee, ended up being totally cool about the whole basilisk thing) which leaves the rest of them trying to decide what will best fit a group of five.

They've been spending a lot of their Saturday mornings watching old cartoons from the 90's and early 2000's, everyone huddled together on the living room couch with clinking spoons and cereal bowls clutched in their hands, fighting over who gets the last of the Captain Crispy — and after much debate, they decide to dress up as the characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

Then, of course, comes the debate over who should be who.

"Hunter is Zuko," Luz decides, pointing a half-chewed plastic coffee stirrer in his direction. "Bad but sad boy with a secret soft marshmallow center. You're basically Gen Z's Zuko, so it fits."

"I have no idea what that means, but I accept," Hunter says, arching an eyebrow in confusion, but looking pleased at having been assigned his favorite character.

"Luz should be Aang," Willow suggests. "The Avatar could wield all four elements, and Luz was the first Hexside student to study all nine tracks."

"And because she's also an uncontainable ball of energy," Hunter jokes, dodging Luz's playful kick to the shins.

"Gus should be Sokka," Hunter suggests a moment later, stepping into stride beside his honorary little brother.

"Because my first girlfriend also turned into the moon?" Gus retorts with a cheeky smile, eyebrows arched in amusement.

"That's rough, buddy," Hunter quips back in a solid impression of Zuko, and Gus laughs, holding out his fist so Hunter can meet him halfway for their special handshake.

"Willow should be Toph, because they're both adorable badasses who can manipulate nature," Amity chimes in, and Willow beams back at her.

"While all of that is true," Hunter interjects. "I think Willow should be Katara."

"But if I'm Aaang, then Amity needs to be Katara, because then it can also be a couples' costume," Luz asserts, smiling brightly as she holds up their entwined hands.

"Ugh," Hunter scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"Oh no, here we go again," Amity groans.

"That ending didn't make any sense!" Hunter explodes. "Zuko and Katara had way more chemistry. They're the ones who should've ended up together!"

"But Aang liked Katara from the very beginning," Luz argues back. "And Zuko started out as their enemy!"

"Says the captain of the SS Heczura," Hunter retorts. "Enemies to friends to lovers is a classic trope, you can't just—"

"I'm staying out of this shipping war," Gus laughs, linking arms with Willow and Amity and striding ahead while the Kataang vs. Zutara die-hards bicker behind them.

"Yeah, last time the furniture got involved," Amity giggles, remembering the epic couch cushion battle that had ensued after they'd finished watching the finale and Luz and Hunter had found themselves on opposite sides of the shipping war.

Willow merely hums in response, a furious blush creeping into the tips of her ears as she replays the last few minutes of the conversation, musing over all the unspoken implications. If Hunter is Zuko, and Hunter thinks Willow should be Katara, and Hunter thinks Zuko and Katara should be together…

"You okay, Willow?" Gus asks, peering over at her with a teasing smirk. "You're looking a little red there."

"Oh, I'm fine," Willow squeaks. "I'm just, uh…feeling a little overheated, that's all." Which isn't entirely a lie.

"Fire nation getting a little too hot for you?" Gus retorts, snorting with laughter as one of Willow's vines comes up to playfully smack him across the back of the head.

In the end, Luz wins the battle by playing the ultimate wild card: canon. So, on Halloween night, all five of them activate their concealment stones — Luz borrows Vee's, since she won't be needing it to win the costume contest at the Old Gravesfield Halloween Festival in her hyper-realistic basilisk "costume" — giving them all the costumes and makeup of their chosen characters without ever having to spend a dime, and head out into the night, lapping the neighborhood until the sky turns from a hazy blood orange sunset to a misty sapphire blue, running through clouds of fake fog and exclaiming excitedly over the neighbors' decorations.

"Oh come on, you got a full-sized Milky Way and mine is only bite-sized," Luz whines, jealous of Hunter's latest haul as the five of them head back home, exhausted but happy, pillowcases filled to the brim with free candy. "I'll trade you for my Three Musketeers!"

"Pfft, like I would downgrade from caramel to nougat," Hunter scoffs, giving Luz a playful shove as she tries to make a grab for it.

As they make their way back to the house, they pass under a collection of power lines, where at least a dozen crows are perched like little blips in a heart monitor, eyeing up their shiny candy wrappers like they'll make the perfect treasures for their nests.

"Kinda crazy how the crows here are just regular birds," Willow remarks, looking up at them with a nostalgic smile. "You can't use them to make calls or anything."

"Yeah, I won't be making that mistake again," Hunter says, shuddering at the memory.

"Did you know that in the human realm, a flock of crows is called a murder?" Gus says conversationally, and Hunter can't help but smile. It's nice, no longer being the only one who spouts random fun facts he learned during a research rabbit hole.

"That's really cool," he says encouragingly, falling into step beside Gus. "What about a group of—"

But before he can even think of another creature to ask about, Luz comes whizzing past him, snagging the full-sized Milky Way out of his unsuspecting hands and racing up the street, cackling maniacally. 

"Excuse me, I have to go commit a flock of crows," he says, taking off after Luz at lightning speed and wrestling the (now smushed) candy bar out of her hands.

In the end, it hardly matters, because they all end up sharing their haul anyway, dumping pillowcases full of chocolates, caramels, hard candies, and sour gummies out onto the living room floor and splitting everything between them as they queue up Luz-approved Halloween classics Hocus Pocus and The Nightmare Before Christmas with Camila and Vee.

Hunter falls asleep with his face tucked against Willow's shoulder, despite the fact that there weren't actually any scary scenes to hide from in the first place — but hey, Willow's not complaining.

• • •

Chapter Text

• • •

On rainy autumn evenings such as this, there isn't much else to do besides sit at home trying to figure out fun ways to pass the time. So far, they've already gone through all of Luz's multi-player racing games, turned down Luz and Amity's offer to watch The Good Witch Azura The Movie 2: The Betrayanning for the fifth time that week, and learned how to make maduros with Camila and Vee.

They're halfway through a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle featuring Animals Of The Amazon Rainforest, when Gus finds an old wicker basket hidden behind one side of the couch, pulls a long, thin, pointed piece of metal from out of a tangled mess of fuzzy-looking snakes, and says, "Is this some kind of human weapon?"

Both Hunter and Willow's eyes snap up in mild alarm, but Hunter relaxes immediately when he sees Willow's face split into a wide, amused smile, snort with laughter, and reply, "No, that's a knitting needle. We have those in the demon realm, too."

"Ohhh," Gus says, realization dawning. "So this is how you made all those fancy scarves and sweaters?"

"Yup!" Willow says with a cheerful grin.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm kinda getting bored of this puzzle," he says, frowning down at the half-constructed toucan scattered amongst a sea of tiny green pieces. "Maybe you could teach us how to knit instead?"

Willow's eyes fall on Hunter, who nods vehemently, always eager to learn something new.

"It's been a while since I've done it without magic," she replies, frowning down at the blunt-tipped aluminum needles and longing for her special palistrom wood set — engraved with little vines and bumblebees, passed down from her Papa on her thirteenth birthday — sitting on her bedside table back home. "But I could give it a try!"

After asking Camila's permission — it's an old hobby she hasn't touched in years, so she's happy someone will finally get some use out of it — Willow spends the rest of the evening teaching Gus and Hunter how to knit, everything from how to hold the yarn and needles in her favorite way (Hunter blushing up a storm as Willow hovers over his shoulder, carefully guiding a strand of bright red yarn over the tip of his pointer finger) to basic beginner stitches.

After a few frustrating first tries, Hunter successfully knits a couple of rows each of garter, stockinette, single rib, and brioche, while Gus attempts to hide his tangled mess of knots behind an illusion of a beautifully-stitched blanket (Willow is not amused.)

Hunter feels a rush of pride when Willow compliments him on his practice swatch, insisting that his first attempt looks a heck of a lot better than both her first knitting and sewing projects ever did. Hunter thinks back to the time he tried to mend his Golden Guard cloak — covered in scraggly stitches, bits of sellotape, and healing coven bandages — how Darius had chuckled and told him he could use a sewing lesson…how easy it had felt to learn a new skill following along with Willow's patient guidance. He wonders whether— hmm.

Hunter hesitates for a moment, trying to talk himself into doing the scary thing and just ask her, voice coming out small and shy. "Do you think you could teach me how to sew, too?"

"Absolutely!" she says, beaming at him from over top her own project — a cozy headband with fancy little twists called cables. "We'll have to venture into town to pick up a few crafting supplies. Meet me by the front door around noon?"

"It's a date," comes Hunter's immediate reply, lips curving up at the corners as Willow accidentally drops a couple of stitches, the tips of her ears a perfect match for the soft, plushy fabric held between his pale, scarred hands.

Now that they actually have a decent collection of human snails and a couple of projects in mind, it's only too easy for the two of them to get lost in the local craft store, spending hours perusing all the different sections, fascinated by all the different ways humans have figured out how to make beautiful things without using magic.

After picking out a set of standard handheld sewing needles, quilting thread, and scrap fabric to practice on, they make their way through the knitting section, where Hunter falls in love with a display of sunny yellow yarn, shoving his hands into the bin filled with plush, cozy wool and exclaiming, "Willow! Come feel how soft this is!"

Willow waits until he gets distracted by the section of organizational craft boxes to sneak a few skeins up to the front counter, a marvelous idea forming in her head as she shells out half her collection of human snails and hastily shoves the yellow yarn into the depths of her little shoulder purse.

They stop by Robin's Roast on the way back home, eager to check out all the new seasonal flavors that just came out at the start of November, Willow deciding on peppermint hot chocolate, while Hunter orders a gingerbread latte. No matter how many times Willow offers for him to try her drink, Hunter will never get used to the sudden swell of giddy anticipation that sparks to life at the wild notion that his lips will have been that close to touching hers — the closest to an almost kiss he'll probably ever get (but hey, the man can dream.)

"Want to try mine?" he's brave enough to ask this time, offering her the steaming cup of spiced espresso. Her answering smile feels like a reward.

"Oooh, this tastes amazing," she coos, shoulders shaking in a happy little dance that's so similar to Flapjack's, Hunter can't help but giggle. "Kinda wish I'd gotten this instead."

"Trade?" he offers, keen to give her just about anything as long as he keeps getting to see her smile like that. Besides, the peppermint cocoa isn't awful.

"Thanks, Hunter!" she says brightly, the two of them instinctively tilting their drinks forward in cheers, shouting clink! as the lip of their two little coffee cups touch, a silly ritual they've been doing ever since Luz told them about the funny human tradition.

Willow clutches Hunter's warm wintery delight to her chest, shivering as a gust of chilly wind whips through her hair, strong enough to loosen one of her braids. Hunter nearly dumps hot cocoa all over himself in his eagerness to shrug off his jacket and slip it over Willow's shoulders. 

Willow freezes in her tracks for a few seconds, blinking in surprise. And then her whole face lights up, cheeks a little pinker than they were a few seconds before as she zips the cozy hooded jacket all the way up to her nose, breathing a sigh of relief as the warmth of Hunter's torso and the subtle scent of his body wash envelopes her.

You look good in that— in my— you look— his poor, feeble brain tries to sneak past his lips, but all that ends up coming out is a high-pitched giggle he tries desperately to pass off as a coughing fit. Titan, he keeps forgetting how tiny she is, sleeves billowing past her wrists by nearly half a foot on either side, hemline hovering just inches above her knees. She's so cute, Hunter nearly crashes face-first into a telephone poll and tips himself straight into a trash bin, too busy looking at her to pay any attention to where he's going.

• • •

Hunter spends the whole of the holiday season honing the skills Willow taught him, learning first how to sew by hand, before eventually getting comfortable enough to learn how to operate the dusty old sewing machine Camila keeps in the basement. 

He starts small, practicing by mending little tears in everyone's clothing, before moving onto bigger projects — he finds an old letterman jacket at the thrift store and covers it in sew-on patches, cobbles together a t-shirt with a bunch of cut-out designs of a mystical human realm beast he recently fell in love with while poring over one of Gus's library books —

"We're a pack! See, that one on top of the mountain is the alpha, so that's Camila. Luz and Amity are over there by the river. That's you and Vee running through the grass—" 

"And the two cuddled up together at the mouth of that cave with their noses pressed together?" 

"That's, uh…me and Willow. Obviously. Since we're the only ones left." 

"Uh huh. You totally didn't plan that at all."

— eventually learning how to use the embroidery setting on the machine to weave little threaded designs into all the projects he makes.

He's so thrilled to have finally found a hobby he's good at, something that lets him make beautiful, meaningful, useful things with his hands. Now, every time he looks down at his pale, scarred hands, he doesn't see someone who captured and imprisoned innocent wild witches and hand-delivered palismen to their death — instead, he sees all the things he's created while he's been living here, all the new skills he's patiently and diligently learned.

Now he's ready for a bigger project, possibly the most important project he's ever taken on — top secret, had to sneak out to the shops and smuggle back his prize tucked in a lumpy ball underneath his jacket, only working on it in the dead of night while everyone is asleep (thankful that Gus has a habit of falling asleep to old recordings of Cosmic Frontier audiobooks and can't hear a thing through his noise-cancelling headphones.)

A week out from Christmas, Hunter holds the finished product up to the light, pleased with his progress. He only hopes she'll like it.

• • •

Chapter Text

• • •

T'was night before Christmas, and all through the house, six witchlings were stirring, sipping cocoa with marshmallows. Snuggled up by the hearth, telling tales and playing games, marveling at the fact they haven't set the kitchen aflame.

No, really. Less than ten minutes prior, they'd nearly set the kitchen on fire.

They'd spent the whole month leading up to Christmas—

"Do you mean Hexmas?"

"No, what's Hexmas?"

"Only the best holiday ever! It's where we celebrate the Titan's birthday, and the founding of the Boiling Isles."

"It's the time of year when magic is at its most powerful, like a moonlight conjuring, but a hundred times better."

"Some say the magic of the winter moon has the power to reanimate the Titan himself. All of his muscles and skin and hair will grow back over his bones, trapping everyone on the Isles inside for all eternity. So, if we make it 'til dawn and we're all still alive, we celebrate."

"And then you get to open presents!"

—learning all about the fascinating human realm holiday, eager to take part in every tradition, no matter how cheesy. It had been lovely getting to experience winter in the human realm — winter meant cooler weather, cozy sweaters, cups of cocoa by the fireplace, and long walks around a snow-blanketed town gift-wrapped in bright, cheerful decorations, every store front lit up in dazzling multi-colored lights hanging like luminescent icicles from the fascia.

Even the nights had a spark of magic about them, living room lit up in soft golden hues as the crackling firelight bathed the room in a cozy, all-encompassing warmth, strings of fairy lights wrapped around their little fir tree silhouetted in the window frame, snow swirling in great big flakes from the midnight blue sky.

Mistletoe hangs from the archway leading from the living room into the kitchen — an unassuming little sprig that, according to Mrs. Noceda, compels any two romance-minded people passing under it to exchange a kiss, bringing good fortune and vitality to those who do — a strange human realm tradition that Camila insists is just a silly little couples' custom, but that Luz and Amity have taken to heart, making any excuse to walk underneath it multiple times a day, turning toward each other with looks of poorly-feigned surprise on their beaming, blushing faces as they lean in to exchange a quick peck on the lips.

At first, Hunter thought it was just a coincidence when Flapjack stole the little white-berried bundle and swooped overhead while Willow sat curled beside him on the couch, that perhaps the playful little cardinal simply thought it was a treat or a toy. Only it kept happening, over and over and over again, and only ever when Hunter found himself alone with Willow. And it wasn't just Flapjack, either — sometimes they'd hear the familiar buzzing of Willow's palisman and look up to find Clover hovering above them, mistletoe clutched in her little proboscis.

Every time, they'd catch each other's eye, and for one wild moment, Hunter would wonder whether this was it, instinctually leaning forward as Willow's eyes fluttered closed, heart hammering inside his chest as he licked his lips in anticipation, suddenly very aware of how dry his mouth was, how big his tongue felt, how many hours it had been since the last time he brushed his teeth — only to be interrupted by one of the other household members bounding into the room singing Christmas carols at the top of their voice. 

Spell broken, they'd quickly look away, faces redder than the oversized socks dangling above the fireplace with all their names stitched across the front. They could almost swear they could hear the sound of their meddling wingmen snickering as the pair of them chased each other around the living room, nearly knocking over the Christmas tree in their cheerful little airborne waltz.

Camila had let them all have free reign decorating the tree, which now stood leaning slightly to one side, brightly-colored baubles and peppermint candy canes hung on nearly every branch, strings of star-spangled tinsel thrown like confetti across its bough. At the top-most branch meant for the placement of a star, sits a little nest instead, home to Flapjack and Clover, who'd taken to napping there together. Every so often, the air around the little fir tree shimmers in the glow of the Christmas lights — a special forcefield that had to be put up by Amity after Ghost tried to climb up the tree one too many times, shiny ornaments reflected in her bright blue eyes like easy prey.

Before they knew it, it was Christmas Eve, everyone rushing into town to find last-minute stocking stuffers and replenish wrapping paper supplies before all the shops closed early, spending the evening learning how to bake all of Luz's holiday favorites — a task that should've been simple, but wound up with with Luz and Vee covered from head to toe in an exploded bag of flour, Gus with his hand stuck in the icing jar, and Hunter knocking an entire tray of freshly-rolled dough to the floor after Willow had reached up to swipe a streak of jam off the side of his cheek and proceeded to lick it off her thumb.

But after several hours, a near-incident with the fire department when Amity misread the recipe and tried to set the oven to celsius instead of fahrenheit, and a tornado'd kitchen that took far longer to clean than it did to cause the mess, the cookies were finally finished baking, out of the oven and cooling on the countertop. 

They'd baked five different batches — chocolate chip, snickerdoodle, s'mores, gingerbread, and thumbprint cookies filled with blackberry jam — and despite Gus and Hunter's many protests, Luz insisted that they couldn't eat them until Christmas morning, as per tradition.

But in order to explain why she's so adamant about keeping up the tradition of leaving a plate of cookies out for "Santa" (i.e. her dad, who always used to go full-tilt, dressing up in a bright red suit and a long white beard every year) she has to explain who and what Santa Claus actually is.

Which brings us to now, all six of them sitting around the living room, snuggled up under blankets with their palismen softly dozing in their laps, listening intently as Luz explains this legendary human realm tradition. But, much to Luz's surprise, instead of looking intrigued or excited, they all look mildly horrified.

"Wait…" Hunter pauses, eyes narrowed in cautionary suspicion. "So that awful villain from that nightmare movie you made us all watch on Halloween actually exists?"

"I thought you said that was fiction," he exclaims, voice growing louder and more theatrical by the second. "Was that actually a documentary about the horrors of Christmas infiltrating Halloween?"

"What?" Luz scoffs, snorting with laughter. "No! Santa wasn't the villain. Did we even watch the same movie?"

"Okay, okay. Let me see if I've got this right," Gus interjects, reaching out a hand to try and quell Hunter's cocoa-induced conspiracy spiral. "So, according to human legend, every year when the weather is at its coldest, a strange man from the north breaks into your home, eats your food, and leaves you boxes full of stuff under a tree made out of needles?"

"Well, when you put it like that—"

"Sounds worse than Grom," Amity chimes in, eyeing the fireplace with a little more caution.

"Is that why humans light fires?" Vee hazards a guess, stoking the logs with a hot poker so that the flames crackle and rise even higher. "To try and deter Santa from coming down the chimney?"

"I— no," Luz exclaims, a little exasperated, wondering how this got away from her so quickly. "Listen, Santa Claus isn't actually real, you guys. It's just a legend parents tell their kids to get them to behave."

"Neither were witches, until you fell through a magic portal and came to the demon realm," Hunter reasons, pointing his empty cocoa mug in her direction. "Maybe this Sandy Claws is real, and you just don't know it."

"We do have a similar tale in our world, about a creature who lives on top of the Knee," Willow supplies thoughtfully. "Every year, so the legend goes, Krampus comes down from his mountaintop cave and sweeps through the town, kidnapping children who have misbehaved, and tearing them apart with his razor-sharp teeth!"

"Anyone who survives gets to open presents early on Hexmas Eve!" she adds with a bright smile, as though she hadn't just said something utterly horrifying.

Luz audibly swallows, eyes wide with terror. 

"Uh…the human realm has a Krampus, too," she says in a low voice. "You don't think it could be the same one, do you?"

"Well, there are a lot of cases of demon realm stuff bleeding into the human realm, and vice versa," Hunter says, suddenly lighthearted and casual — because somehow, Santa Claus is a scarier concept to him than Krampus. "Giraffes, basilisks, humans, garbage…who's to say a child-eating monster from our world didn't trek its way into yours?"

Luz cuddles up a little closer to Amity that night, eyes snapping open every time she hears even the tiniest creak of floorboards, until eventually, her paranoia ratchets up so high she can't sleep until she's certain the house is safe, sneaking downstairs with her mother's baseball bat to investigate a strange growling noise coming from the kitchen, only to scream bloody murder when Gus and Hunter jump out at her from behind a corner, Hunter supplying the spooky noises to go along with Gus's illusion of a towering creature with glowing red eyes and rows of razor-sharp teeth, the two of them collapsing to the floor in a heap of laughter when she realizes it was just a prank.

"Just wait until I tell you about the tooth fairy," Luz retorts, lips curling into an impish smirk as she regales them with tales of a (very real, not at all made up) human realm creature that comes while you're sleeping and steals the teeth right out of your mouth, cackling to herself as she skips back upstairs, leaving the two of them huddled in their bunks in the basement, hands clapped over their mouths, terrified that they'll wake with a mouthful of missing teeth and never get the chance to enjoy all those delicious Christmas cookies. (Because, priorities.)

They wake the next morning to a world blanketed in snow, slip on their warmest jackets, hats, and scarves, and trudge up the tallest hill in town, where all the other neighborhood kids have already started queuing up to go sledding. It's very quickly decided that Luz can't be trusted to sit in front and steer after she nearly sends them careening straight into a snow bank for the fifth time in a row.

Granted, Hunter doesn't fare much better when Willow decides to settle in right behind him, so distracted by the feeling of her arms wrapped around his torso, hair tickling the sides of his face as she tucks her chin against the crook of his shoulder, that he actually does send the lot of them crashing straight into a snow bank, cracking the front of Luz's sled in the process.

What starts as a simple snowball fight between Luz and Hunter quickly evolves into an all-out war between the Hexolios and the neighborhood kids, all of whom think they've got the strange new exchange students outnumbered until Gus starts spawning illusions to throw three times as many snowballs, and Amity and Willow construct a half-plant, half-abomination cannonball.

Exhausted and numb from the cold, but happier than they've ever felt, laughter coming out in breathless bursts that spiral above their heads, they make their way back to the house just in time for dinner, everyone bustling about the kitchen to help cook a different portion of the meal together. They eat until they're fit to bursting, until even the sugar fiends don't have any more room for apple pie, rushing off to grab the gifts they'd hidden in various places all over the house over the past month, and eagerly placing them underneath the lit-up tree.

The living room is a war zone of ribbons and wrapping paper as everyone tears into their presents, little flecks of silver and gold stuck to bits of sellotape scattered across every surface like confetti, a collection of comically large gift bows tacked to the top of Luz's head like a crown. Camila sets the stereo to a record of her favorite jazzy Christmas songs and settles into her cozy armchair to oversee the chaos, perfectly content as she sips her steaming mug of cocoa, all snuggled up in her brand new fuzzy robe and slippers courtesy of her kids.

Luz's ears perk up like a cat's at the first few familiar notes, and within seconds, she's on her feet, endeavoring to turn the evening into Grom Part Two, sweeping into a low bow as she asks her giggling, blushing girlfriend to dance.

"It's only fair," she says, spinning Amity in a graceful little pirouette. "After all, you were the one who got to ask last time."

Hunter is so swept up in the mayhem of watching the two of them laugh and twirl one another in the glimmer of the colorful Christmas lights, he almost doesn't register the Willow-shaped silhouette hovering next to him, offering him her hand.

"May I have this dance?" she asks, fairy lights glinting off the lenses of her glasses, igniting them in a golden glow.

"Oh, uh— yeah. Yes. Absolutely," he stutters, barely a moment to stagger to his feet before he's swept away in Willow's arms.

Hunter has never danced in his entire life, but Willow is a marvelous lead, the comforting weight of her hand pressed between his shoulder blades his steadfast guide, soft plush fingers curling over the palm of his hand, heat hotter than the flames in the fireplace curling up the length of his spine as she draws him closer and instructs him to place his other hand on the small of her waist.

Just when he thinks he's finally got the moves down, Willow throws out a wild card, twirling him around a circle and dipping him backward on the catch, but Hunter finds he doesn't mind in the slightest, safe in her strong, gentle hands as the whole world spins upside down in a blur of green and gold. And then she's pulling him back up toward her, lips parted in a wide smile, breathless laughter rushing out of both of them as their chests heave from the exertion, and all Hunter can think as he gazes into her bright green eyes are three simple words.

Oh.

Wow.

Dancing.

Well. Maybe those aren't the only three words he's thinking.

It's nearing midnight by the time everyone heads to bed, shuffling to their respective rooms with barely stifled yawns and sleepy smiles, leaving Hunter and Willow alone together in the living room, side by side, curled up by the fire.

Evidently, they'd both had the same idea, not wanting to give the gifts they'd gotten for each other in front of everyone else. Without a word, the two of them reach behind opposite sides of the tree and withdraw two packages — one wrapped to perfection in red and gold striped paper with a little hand-curled ribbon on top, the other a mess of glittery green wrapping paper, ripped at every edge and held together with far too much tape.

Ever since their lessons, Hunter has developed a deep abiding love for sewing, but she had no idea he'd gotten this good. When Willow unwraps her gift, a neatly-folded letterman jacket with the words CAPTAIN WILLOW PARK stitched across the back in bold white lettering spills out onto her lap, cobbled together from some of the coziest green and gold fabric she'd ever felt beneath her fingertips.

Little swatches of brightly-colored, hand-stitched embroidery line the lapels and the arms of the jacket — wildflowers, vines, bumblebees, cardinals, hearts, and stars — and in the very center, right over the heart, a miniature rendering of a flyer derby field, complete with goal posts and green and purple flags to represent the Emerald Entrails and their first-ever opposing team. Willow spreads her hands over it, amazed by all the carefully crafted details. This must have taken him weeks to complete.

"This is amazing, Hunter," she says, slipping the jacket over her shoulders and marveling at how perfectly it fits her. "Thank you so much, I love—" she adds as she turns toward him, gazing up at him with a radiant smile on her face, only to find him staring back at her, looking awestruck.

Clutched in his hands are two different gifts she couldn't decide between — one, a hand-knitted sweater made that same cozy yellow yarn he'd fallen in love with the first time they'd gone to the craft store together, complete with a little breast pocket for Flapjack to nap in — and two, a brand new pair of handsome leather gloves, similar enough to his old pair to provide that same level of comfort and safety to a set of scarred, sensitive hands, but different enough so that he no longer has to be reminded of Belos, of being the Golden Guard every time he looks down at his own hands.

"I hope you like them," she says in a small voice, suddenly feeling nervous. "The cardinals along the sides there are hand-stitched. I tried to make them look as much like Flapjack as I could, but—"

"They're perfect. You're perfect," he says, rushing forward to wrap her up in a hug, tucking his chin against the curve of her shoulder and breathing her in in a series of slow, steady breaths.

"Merry Christmas, Hunter," she says, voice muffled as she melts into the hug, face buried in the cozy fabric of his sweater.

"Merry Christmas, Willow," he says, voice almost too soft to catch over the steady crackling of the fireplace.

• • •

Chapter Text

• • •

One blustery day in mid-February, an overnight snowstorm hits the sleepy little town of Gravesfield, knocking out half the power grid and relegating everyone indoors. Luckily for the Noceda household, over half of its members have magic, living room lit by a series of golden lights that float all around them in mid-air. 

They've already worked their way through all the board games, card games, and puzzles, and are trying to figure out what to do next, when suddenly, Luz is struck by an intriguing idea.

"Let's play twenty questions!" she suggests enthusiastically, putting in her best effort to combat their ever-growing boredom.

"Okay!" Gus chimes in, eager to learn yet another human realm custom that passes for entertainment. "First question: how do we play?"

"It's easy!" Luz tells him, springing up off the floor to duck into the kitchen, and returning moments later with a punch bowl, a handful of colorful pens, and a pack of yellow paper.

"First, we write down the names of all the people we know on these little sticky notes, fold them up, and put them in a bowl."

They spend the next five minutes writing down names, everyone from Eda to Edric to Principal Bump, handing them off to Luz so she can sift through them and make sure there are no duplicates. Once everyone has finished, she puts them in the bowl, sticks her hand inside, and mixes them up.

"Now what?" Amity asks, keen to get the rules right.

"Now, we each take one and stick it to our forehead," she explains.

"No peeking!" she adds hastily, as Hunter tries to sneak a glance at his. "The object of the game is to try and guess who you've got written on your sticky note. You can ask a series of yes or no questions, and the rest of us can only answer yes or no. If you guess correctly before you hit twenty questions, you win!"

"Sounds easy enough," Hunter says, a little of that cocky Golden Guard bravado sneaking through.

Luz opens her mouth to tell him to bring it, but stops short as she reads the name written across the little slip of paper stuck to his forehead. She glances over at Gus, Vee, and Amity, catching their eyes and exchanging conspiratorial grins.

Oh, this is gonna be fun.

"Willow!" she exclaims, turning toward her with a smirk mischievous enough to put the Cheshire Cat to shame. "Why don't you pair up with Hunter, and the two of you can go first?"

"Oh. Um. Okay," Willow falters, wondering how on earth she's not going to immediately give it away when Hunter starts asking questions about himself.

As per Luz's instruction, the two of them scoot closer to one another until they're barely a foot apart, sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, facing one another.

"Okay, so just…any question, as long as it's yes or no?" Hunter asks, suddenly unsure of himself. He's partnered with Willow, for Titan's sake — the last thing he wants to do is make a fool of himself.

"Exactly. You got this," Gus says, offering him a wide smile and an encouraging thumbs up.

"Is this person a witch?" he asks, and wow, already off to an awkward start. How exactly does one classify a grimwalker?

"Uh," Willow stalls, hoping the little squeak in her voice won't give it away on the first try. "It's…complicated."

"What does that mean?" Hunter asks, brow furrowed in confusion. "Are they some kind of beast or bipedal demon, then?"

"No," she says with a little more conviction.

"Bug type?"

"Definitely not."

"Well, that rules out King and Hooty," Hunter concludes, lips pulling into a pensive frown.

Luz exchanges a wide-eyed look with Amity. She keeps forgetting that Hunter still doesn't know about King. She dithers for a moment, wondering whether she should correct him, but decides now probably isn't the best time to drop that particular bombshell. Luz makes a mental note to tell him the full story later, returning her attention to her matching-making shenanigans.

"Is this person our age?" Hunter asks, tilting his head to the side.

"Yes," Willow replies, pausing for a second to consider whether she should get technical about it. Ehh. Fifteen, sixteen. Does it really matter if it's only a year's difference?

"Are they a student as Hexside?" he asks, smile returning now he's finally gotten a question right.

"No," Willow answers automatically, but then hesitates, looking conflicted. "Well, I mean, they probably would've— but for the sake of simplicity, I'm gonna say no."

"Hmm," Hunter muses, stroking his thumb over the soft patch of light blond stubble he'd missed shaving that morning as he considers his next line of questioning. Willow lets out a slow, steadying sigh as she watches, definitely not imagining what it might feel like underneath her fingertips.

"Are they a coven head?" he asks, snapping her attention back to the task at hand.

"Uh," Willow falters, not entirely certain how to answer that question, either. Technically, he was the head of the Emperor's Coven back when he was still the Golden Guard, but now he's neither of those things, and while she knows he's glad not to be, it's still kind of a touchy subject, all things considered.

"Not, um…not anymore?" she winces, answering as truthfully as she can.

"Okay, so it's definitely not Eda," Hunter reasons, features free of any visible discomfort with the topic. Willow visibly relaxes. She supposes everyone who was a coven head is considered former now, after all.

"Oh!" he exclaims, face lighting up. "Is it Lilith?"

"Nope," Willow shakes her head.

"Darius! Raine?" he asks excitedly.

"Try guessing one at a time," Willow giggles.

"Sorry," Hunter huffs out a self-effacing chuckle. "Darius?"

"No."

"Raine?"

"Also no."

"Okay, okay," he says, smiling sheepishly. "Um…huh. Well, Steve is kind of close to us in age, but he's also never been a coven head, so—"

"Try asking me more questions about them, instead of just guessing random names," Willow says patiently.

"You're right," Hunter sighs. "I'm sorry, I'm not playing this right."

"It's okay," Willow says kindly, reaching out to place a gentle, reassuring hand on top of his. "It's just a game. We're supposed to have fun with it. Here, let me—"

"Can I give him a hint?" Willow glances toward Luz, Amity, Gus, and Vee, who are all sitting just a few feet away, huddled together, watching the two of them play their round with the same level of intrigue and enthusiasm they usually dedicate toward 90's rom-coms. She raises her eyebrows in question, and Luz gives her an encouraging nod.

"Okay," she says, taking a deep breath. "This person is brave, and sweet, and always goes above and beyond to make sure the people they care about know they care."

"That's three hints!" Amity interjects.

"I'll allow it," Luz says, unable to take her eyes off the two of them.

"Wow," Hunter remarks, breath coming out in a reverential sigh. "You must think very highly of this person."

"I do," she says with a small, sincere smile.

"And you're close with them?" he asks.

"I am," she replies, smiling growing brighter.

"Do you think of them as a sibling?" he asks.

"No," she says, shaking her head for emphasis.

Okay, Hunter muses. So that rules out Gus.

"Do you think of them as a friend?" he asks, trying to narrow down his options.

"Yes," she says, and something about the way she's smiling at him makes him think there's more to that yes than she's letting on.

"Do you think of them as more than a friend?" Gus prompts in a teasing tone, arching his eyebrows suggestively.

"Gus, only Hunter can ask the questions!" Luz scolds him, but she looks more amused than anything, shoulders shaking in an effort to hold back her laughter.

"Sorry, sorry," Gus relents with a chuckle. Waits a beat, then adds, "But do you?"

Hunter watches with a kind of awestruck fascination as a delicate blush spreads from Willow's cheeks to the tips of her ears. She turns to level a wide-eyed glare at Gus, whose smile only gets bigger.

"You don't have to answer that," Hunter reassures her, though now he's desperate to know who's got the Captain blushing like that. Willow glances back at him, wide-eyed panic softening to mild embarrassment as she tries her best to offer him a grateful smile. It comes out as more of a grimace, face tomato red.

"Um, so…are they smart?" he asks, abandoning the objective of the game in favor of trying to wheedle as much information as he can about this mystery person who's got his Captain so flustered. At the very least, he can find out why she likes them, what kinds of things appeal to her in a potential mate.

"Yes," she says, smirking as the words genius teen prodigy drift across her mind.

Shit, Hunter panics. He's only got a few questions left, so he'd better use them wisely.

"Do they like to read?" he asks, leaning to the side oh so casually to reveal the giant stack of books tucked between the coffee table and the side of the couch with his name stamped inside all of them, waiting to be returned to the library. 

Where he works. 

Surrounded by books.

"Very much so," she says, and Hunter isn't sure whether that's a point in his favor or a fact that makes this mystery person all the better suited to her.

"Do they have a magic stick, and do they know how to use it?" he asks without thinking, regretting his poor choice of words the instant they leave his mouth. He doesn't have to look over at Gus or Luz to know that they're snickering, realization dawning a moment too late how that might sound out of context, forever haunted by the memory of the day he discovered what an innuendo was, determined never to repeat the disco stick incident ever again.

Oh Titan, this is going horribly.

"Staff! Magic staff! I meant— can they fly well, on a…on a magic staff," he course-corrects, face redder than a freshly-cast bard spell.

"Oh," Willow breathes a sigh of relief, cheeks flushed an adorable shade of pink as she replies, "Yeah, they definitely know how to use their staff."

Luz lets out a loud giggle-snort that she hastily tries to cover up as a cough and receives a withering Willow glare for her troubles.

"Okay," she says, turning back toward Hunter with a shy smile. "Only a few questions left. Keep going, you're doing great."

Hunter manages a small smile in return, nervous heartbeat quelling at her gentle reassurance.

"Is their hair brown?" he asks, in an effort to speed up the process and just find out who it is already.

"No," she replies, shaking her head.

"Red?"

"Nope."

"Blond?"

"Yes."

Huh. Hunter wasn't expecting that. Who do they know who's their age, not a student at Hexside, used to be a coven head, is close with Willow, can fly well on a staff, and has blond—

Oh.

Hunter goes for broke, certain it's impossible, but taking a leap of hope all the same. He takes a deep breath, steels his writhing nerves, and asks, "Do they have any distinguishing features…like, say, a facial scar, red eyes, a gap between their two front teeth, or a lock of hair that hangs down in front of their face all the time?"

Willow sucks in a breath that could rival the windspeed outside, exhaling on a heavy, breathless, "Yes."

"Okay, that's twenty!" Luz shouts, sounding far too giddy as she shakes the two of them out of their little reverie. "Hunter, who'd you have?"

With shaking hands, Hunter reaches up and peels the sticky note off of his forehead, heart kicking up speed as he sees his own name written in Willow's neat, swirling handwriting.

"It was me," he says softly, disbelieving. Hunter glances up at her, replaying all of her answers in his head and applying every one of them to the new, undeniable fact that they'd all been about him the entire time.

Do you think of them as more than a friend?

"Okay, my turn!" Luz declares, eagerly scooting into the center of the circle. 

Needing an excuse to stop looking at Willow lest his face catch fire, Hunter turns to look at Luz instead. Reads the name scrawled across the top of her forehead in his own slanting handwriting, and turns a deep shade of crimson.

Luz's smile turns positively predatory. She knows which name she'd chosen the instant she looks at him, a furious blush betraying his poker face. She exchanges covert glances with Amity, Vee, and Gus, who confirm her suspicions with wide, gleeful eyes and subtle nods.

"So Hunter," she says with a would-be innocent lilt. "Since you didn't guess yours before the twenty questions were up, you're gonna be paired with me to answer my questions for this round."

"Uh. Yeah, okay," he says, feeling like he's just downed a dozen red eyes.

"Is this person a witch?" she asks, lulling him into a false sense of security by starting with the same line of questioning that he had.

"Yes," he answers confidently.

"Are they a student at Hexside?" she prompts next.

"Yes," he replies.

"Do they play any competitive sports?" she asks.

"Oh yeah, and they're great at it, too," he says, a faint pink flush rushing back into the tips of his ears.

Luz's smile grows wider.

"Are they…studying the abomination track?" she poses, eyes darting toward Amity to give her a playful wink.

"No, she switched to the plant tra— uh. I mean, no," Hunter amends with a heavy, self-effacing sigh.

"She, huh?" Luz smirks. "Thanks for the freebie."

"Yeah, well," Hunter tries to brush it off, pretending like he totally did it on purpose. "I figured you could use the help."

Luz arches her eyebrows, lips curling into a mischievous grin.

"So, this girl," she says, drawing it out. "Is she nice?"

"The nicest," Hunter replies automatically.

"Is she powerful and strong?" Luz asks, flexing her weak nerd arms for emphasis.

Hunter swallows, Adam's apple straining against the column of his throat as he remembers the day Willow had picked him up and carried him bridal style across the backyard just to prove that she could. For a cold winter's day, it's suddenly feeling very hot in here all of a sudden.

"Yes," he manages in a small, strained voice, and Luz's smile grows even wider.

"Do you think she's wise?" Luz asks, and once again, Hunter's reply is instantaneous.

"Yes," he says, and then pauses, reconsidering. "Wait, is she or do I think—" he shakes his head, content with his first response. "Either way, the answer is yes."

She's the best of both worlds, Hunter muses, lips curving up into a dreamy smile of their own accord. Buff and brains.

"Does she wear her hair in cute little braids?" Luz asks, fluffing up her hair to mime two little pigtail braids on either side of her head.

"Yeah," Hunter says, feeling heat creep back into his cheeks again. Technically, it's not wrong. It is, objectively, a cute hairstyle.

"Is she beautiful?" Luz asks, and the whole room grows quiet, like even the weather is waiting on baited breath.

"I mean, that's a subjective question," Hunter reasons. "But yes, absolutely."

He answers so quickly, so automatically, like it's an inarguable fact. And, well, to him, it is. But he hadn't exactly intended to say that out loud. At least, not yet. Not until…well, he's not exactly sure when. He's just been waiting for the right moment. And right now, surrounded by all their friends playing guessing games in the middle of a blizzard wasn't exactly the right moment he had in mind.

"I see," Luz replies, smiling so wide her eyes are practically half-moons. "If you had the chance, would you ask her to Grom?"

"What's Grom?" Hunter asks, wrinkling his nose in confusion.

"It's a dance held at Hexside," Amity informs him with an encouraging smile. "You're supposed to ask the person you like to accompany you. You know, as your date. I was going to ask Luz…but I chickened out at the last second."

"But we still got to dance together, batata," Luz says, smiling sweetly at her girlfriend. "And it was epic."

"Yeah, it really was," Amity sighs, staring lovingly back at her.

"So, would you?" Gus prompts, intervening to take the reins while Luz and Amity make heart eyes at each other. "Ask this person to Grom?"

"I— ye— what kind of question is that?" Hunter deflects, suddenly finding the living room positively sweltering. He attempts to laugh it off, voice coming out as a slightly hysterical, high-pitched squeak. "Seriously, Noceda. How have you not guessed who it is by now? You're basically just describing her at this point. It's almost like you…" he trails off, eyes growing wide as the realization finally hits him.

Oh, sweet mother of Titan. They've been duped. Both of them.

"Already knew…who the person…was…"

Hunter turns in slow motion to face Willow, only to discover that she's been hiding her face in a throw pillow this entire time, the tips of her bright red ears peeking out from behind her braided hair.

Matching blushes to wear to Grom.

Hunter can't decide if his newfound friends are the best or the absolute worst.

• • •

Chapter Text

• • •

With seven people (six of them teenagers, no less) living together under one roof, the house can feel a little overcrowded sometimes. So, over time, Hunter and Willow have come up with a clever way to let each other know when they need to take a breather — a secret signal known only to the two of them.

It starts one day in early autumn. Camila is in the kitchen, music on full blast while she meal preps for the coming week. Vee's friends from summer camp (otherwise known as the hellfire club, as they like to call themselves) are over for the afternoon, laughing loudly in one corner of the living room as they play their weekly dungeons and dragons campaign.

Luz and Amity are huddled together in the other corner, dramatically reading passages aloud from the newest Good Witch Azura book, and shrieking in excitement when they reach the part where Hecate and Azura officially become canon.

Gus sets up camp on the couch between Hunter and Willow, face scrunched up in concentration as he tries his damnedest to beat all of Luz's best times in that space battles podracing game he's grown so attached to, grumbling to himself every time he holds down the accelerator button a little too long and ends up setting his engine on fire.

Willow sits with her feet tucked underneath her legs on her little section of the couch, a book on common human realm household plants sitting idly in her lap, watching out of the corner of her eyes as Hunter's grip on the book he's been trying to read for the last hour gets tighter and tighter, wincing every time Gus accidentally elbows him in the ribs.

Willow recognizes that look — the one that tells her he's feeling overwhelmed, overstimulated, overcrowded; too many people and too much noise. Willow understands, because she's been there. If she's being honest, she's kind of starting to feel that way right now.

"Shoot!" she says suddenly, jumping to her feet, a half-formed plan in mind. "I just remembered — I left my favorite…um…scarf at Mrs. Plantar's flower shop."

"Hunter—" she prompts, and all at once, Hunter's eyes snap up to meet hers, shaking his head as if coming out of a trance, summoned by the sound of his name. "Would you mind coming with me?"

Hunter arches his eyebrows, looking adorably confused, but Willow just inclines her head meaningfully toward the front door.

"Oh, um…yeah, of course," he says, still looking confused, but eager for the chance to sneak away and spend some one-on-one time with her. 

He slips his little paper marker in between the last-read pages of the second installment of Cosmic Frontier and tucks the book into the back pocket of his jeans for safe-keeping. Glances up to find Willow waiting for him, hand held out in offering. Hunter swallows, staring down at it like it's a lifeline, reaching out to slip his cold, shaking fingers in between her soft, warm, plush ones, and allowing her to whisk him away into the chilly autumn air outside.

No one says anything or tries to stop them, but they do briefly look up, watching the two of them go with mingled expressions of curiosity and smug satisfaction.

"I give 'em 'til Christmas," Masha quips in a stage-whisper, snorting with laughter as Vee gasps and playfully shushes them, only to lean in a moment later once she's certain they're out of earshot, and add, "I'll take that bet, but they're hopeless, so I'm gonna say late spring," giggling as Masha reaches up to tickle the bright blue fur on the underside of one of Vee's ears.

Hunter lets out a sigh of relief the moment they shut the front door, cool autumn breeze breathing life into his anxiety-starved lungs as he calms himself down to the steady count of four, and Willow knows instantly that she made the right choice. Without another moment's hesitation, she begins walking in a direction they've never been before, a little pathway leading into the forest.

"I thought the shops were back that way," Hunter says, jabbing a thumb behind him as he follows Willow through a thicket of trees, bright green leaves gilded gold around the edges.

"We're not going to the shops," Willow informs him, lifting up a low-hanging branch so that Hunter can pass underneath it. "You looked like you could use a break, and honestly, so could I. So we're going for a walk. Is that alright?"

Hunter pauses for a moment mid-stride, stopping to stare at her with an expression that hovers somewhere between surprise and gratitude. 

How does she always know exactly what he needs?

"You're the best, you know that?" he says, thankful he's wearing a beanie to cover the sudden blush that flows to the tips of his ears as she beams up at him with that sunshine smile of hers.

They make their way through the denser part of the woods surrounding Luz's backyard, a landscape suspended between seasons, half lush greenery clinging to the end of summer, half crisp and curling, lit up in hues of citrus and gold, hiking over fallen tree trunks and ducking under low-hanging branches, leaves and twigs crunching underfoot, until eventually, they reach a secluded clearing — a meadow gated by wildflowers and knee-high blades of grass, shorn down in the middle where a magnificent willow tree stands, casting shade on the perfect reading nook.

For a moment, all they can do is stand there, marveling that such a place exists in the middle of this hazy gray town. They slowly turn to look at one another, that same spark of thrill mirrored in each other's eyes, unspoken agreement passing between them in a single smile as they take off in the direction of the willow tree, giggling madly as they race each other to see who can get there the fastest.

Hunter wins by a hair, but Willow still insists that he cheated, those long legs of his an unfair advantage.

"You're too tall," she teases, jumping up onto her tiptoes to try and match Hunter's height, but still missing by a couple of inches even at her highest leap. "What are you, part tree?"

"I mean…kind of," he says, features smooth to match his deadpan delivery for all of five seconds before the two of them are bursting out laughing, clutching each other's shirtsleeves as they fall to the ground.

"Well, good," Willow says with a playful nudge to Hunter's shoulder, still giggling as she settles onto a soft patch of grass beside him, late afternoon sunlight pouring like liquid gold between the swaying, pale green catkins of the willow tree. "I like a guy who's environmentally conscious."

Hunter, who'd just taken out his copy of Cosmic Frontier: O'Bailey's Secret with the intent to finally finish that last chapter, can't help but snort with laughter, a vibrant warmth that has nothing to do with the sunlight creeping up the back of his neck and into the tips of his ears.

They spend the rest of the afternoon secluded in their new secret hideaway, curled up together beneath the shade of the willow tree, sunlight warming their backs as they stretch out along the sprawling grass, getting lost in the worlds inside their books as a gentle symphony of birdsong, bumblebees, and autumn winds serenades them, only realizing they've been here for hours when the sun begins to sink below the horizon, stealing their only reading light.

The two of them scramble to their feet, keen to make it back through the forest before nightfall, before anyone starts to worry, snickering as they volley potential excuses back and forth to try to spin a believable tale about where they'd been all day, making promises and plans to come back to their little haven among the trees as soon as they possibly can.

It becomes a regular routine for the two of them, exploring the surrounding woods to satiate a never-ending curiosity for human realm flora and fauna — Willow fascinated by the various plants and flowers that spring up out of the undergrowth, Hunter avid to learn all the different species of birds nesting among the trees, to be able to recognize them all by birdsong alone — always finding their way back to their secret meadow in the end.

Sometimes, they go there just to talk, reminiscing about all the things they miss from their lives back in the demon realm. They talk about the first day they met, how much they miss playing flyer derby, both of them itching to get back on their staffs and up into the sky.

They glance around longingly at the surrounding treetops, lit up by a backdrop of a bright, clear blue sky, snow melting off the branches as winter gives way to spring, noticing for perhaps the first time in months just how tall the gateway of trees encircling their secluded little clearing where no one but the two of them ever seems to come actually is, and slowly turn to look at each other, the very same wild, fantastical idea forming in their heads at the same time.

They'll have to wait until all the snow clears, give the trees time to regrow their leaves, ensure they've got the right amount of cover, and then they can set their plan into action.

One day in early spring, their time finally comes.

They're sitting in the living room, Luz curled up between Amity and Willow on the couch, all three of them engrossed in their books, Hunter sitting opposite in Camila's armchair pretending to do the same, Gus sprawled out across the floor between them flipping through an encyclopedia of ancient human realm lizard beasts, when, at precisely 2:13PM, Willow stifles an exaggerated yawn, glancing over at Hunter with a meaningful look in her eyes.

Hunter peers up from his book, eyes crinkling at the corners as his lips quirk up into a devilish smile, and quietly jabs his thumb in the direction of the front door. Willow arches her eyebrows, lips curving into an impish grin as she gives him a small, subtle nod in return.

"Aw, would you look at that?" Hunter says, cutting through the soft silence of the living room, causing everyone else to glance up from their reading. "I just remembered, I completely forgot to buy griffin eggs while I was out at the market earlier. Willow, would you be so kind as to accompany me to the gross…sorcery store?" he stumbles, nearly breaking character when Willow claps a hand over her mouth to stifle a snort of laughter.

"Absolutely!" she says, braids bouncing across her shoulders as she springs up from the couch. "Oh, but could we also stop by the craft store so I can pick up more yarn for this hat I'm making? I hope you don't mind, I know it might make our trip take a really long time."

"Not at all!" Hunter replies in a totally casual, not-at-all-rehearsed voice. "I wouldn't mind picking up some more fabric for a sewing project I'm working on, either. Might be gone a while. Hope that's okay with everyone else?"

"Uh, sure," Luz replies, staring between the two of them with an all-too-knowing, thoroughly amused smirk on her face. "Take all the time you need."

"Okay, thanks. Byeeeee!" Hunter calls out to them, already rounding the corner and rushing to the front door with a giggling Willow in tow.

They reach the clearing in record time — by now, they know the path through the forest by heart — Willow excitedly tugging Hunter by the hand, who would honestly be content to follow her anywhere, so long as he gets to hold her hand.

Spring flowers have just begun to blossom around the edges of their meadow, igniting the landscape in an explosion of colorful ink blots, long green tendrils of their winter-recovered willow tree gently swaying in the wind.

Willow unfastens the little headband she'd been using to cover her ears while walking through the forest (concealment stones forgotten at home in their excitement) braids swishing back and forth as she shakes her hair free, loose strands licking her cheeks like flames fashioned out of the midnight sky as a sudden gust of wind overtakes them. 

Hunter can't help the soft smile that spills across his face at the sight of her, heart leaping into his throat as she levels him with a playful smirk, summoning Clover from the inside pocket of her cozy knitted sweater and fastening the little headband into a makeshift flyer derby flag onto the end of her staff, before kicking off from the ground and soaring into the bright blue sky.

Hunter has barely a moment to shake himself out of his little reverie before he realizes that he's going to lose if he doesn't make it up there in time, lifting the little red beanie he'd been proud to call his first successful knitting project off his head to reveal a softly dozing Flapjack underneath, snuggled up and cozy in the thickest part of Hunter's hair.

After a bit of gentle prodding, Flapjack perks up, quickly transforming into a staff so that Hunter can tie his beanie onto the end of it, palismen just as eager to fly as their witchlings.

It's easy enough to catch up to her, flashing through the sky like a bolt of bright, golden lightning, grinning as he manages to sneak up behind her and startle a laugh out of her. Back in their element, they spend the bulk of their sunny afternoon chasing each other through the cloudy sky, weaving between the tree tops, trying in vain to steal each other's makeshift flags.

After hours of near-misses and almost-victories, Hunter is hot on her heels, close enough to reach out and close his fingertips around the fabric of her sunflower-patterned headband, but at the very last second, Willow fakes him out, swerving at a sharp turn, taking advantage of his momentary confusion to snag the beanie off the end of his staff. Hunter huffs out a breathless laugh, hardly caring that he's just lost the game, so happy to be back out in the open air playing alongside his captain again.

When he lands, the first thing he notices is that Willow is wearing her prize, and Hunter can't help but stumble on the dismount, stopping to stare at her, momentarily stunned by how cute she looks, dark hair wild and windswept as it sticks out of the sides of his little red beanie, struck again by that same shiver-stirring revelation that he really likes it when Willow wears his clothes.

"How do I look?" she asks, sweeping into a fashionable pose with a triumphant smile on her face.

"Wow," is all Hunter can manage in response, rushing out of him in a kind of breathless awe, and Flapjack shifts back from staff to palisman just to rib him for it with a teasing twitter.

Willow giggles, a delicate shade of pink blossoming in the apples of her cheeks, and although Hunter doesn't share a mental link with Clover, he can't help but think that her reaction sounds an awful lot like Flapjack's.

Willow wrinkles her nose at the little bumblebee and motions to take it off, but Hunter holds up a hand to stop her.

"You can keep wearing it, if you want," he offers, heat creeping into the tips of his ears, pointedly ignoring the twittering snort of laughter his palisman gives him in response.

"Okay," Willow replies in a soft voice, cheeks still flushed an adorable shade of pink as she beams up at him. 

"Oh, but then you should have mine! It's only fair," she adds, loosening the knot on her headband and stepping forward to tie it loosely around Hunter's neck, reminding her of the one he wore to their very first practice.

A wave of heat that has nothing to do with the balmy spring weather curls up the length of Hunter's spine as Willow's fingers sweep across the nape of his neck, her face so close to his in those precious few moments that Hunter forgets how to breathe.

Willow steps back to admire her handiwork, eyes lingering on the flushed pink swell of his lips for a few seconds before gazing back up at him, blush growing darker as she quickly turns away, clears her throat, and motions for him to follow her so they can take their usual spot underneath the willow tree.

They spend the rest of the afternoon laying back against the grass, finding familiar shapes in the fluffy, cotton candy clouds overhead. Hunter points out a cloud that looks remarkably like Puddles, huffing out a laugh as he lets his hand fall back down toward the dew-kissed grass, landing a mere few inches from hers.

A couple of seconds later, Willow points to a cloud that looks absolutely nothing like a cardinal, and Hunter could almost swear she does it for the sole purpose of shifting just a little bit closer, pinky finger reaching out to brush against his.

• • •

Chapter Text

• • •

Once spring is in full swing, Willow offers to help Camila set up a little garden in the backyard using packets of specialty seeds Mrs. Plantar gave to her as a bonus for all her hard work. This way, they'll be able to grow their own fruit and veg at home, which will cut down on the cost to keep everyone well fed. Together, they work to clear out a little space riddled with overgrown weeds and bits of debris blown in from autumn and winter winds, and prep the garden beds until they're primed and ready for their first little seedlings to take root.

One afternoon, while Willow is out placing little handwritten signs to remind her where everything will be planted, Hunter ventures out into the backyard, and finally, after a week of watching from the sidelines, convinced he'll only get in the way, works up the nerve to ask her if there's anything he can do to help. To his relief, Willow's eyes light up, a bright smile curling across her face as she beckons him to join her on her little oasis of freshly-turned earth.

"Okay," she says, clapping her hands on her knees and leaving behind two little dirt-smudged handprints. "Before we begin, I need to ask — how much do you know about gardening?"

"Oh, um…hardly anything," Hunter admits in a low, sheepish voice. He doesn't have the heart to tell her that he'd actually checked out multiple books on plant magic from the Bonesborough Library just days after they'd first met, in an attempt to seem impressively knowledgeable about her chosen coven track, only to end up murdering the poor little succulent he'd tried to keep on the ledge of his bedroom window, a combination of overwatering, not enough sunlight, and ultimately, an unexpected downpour of boiling rain ruining his first and only attempt at being a plant parent.

"Well, now you've got me," she says, summoning her collection of seed packets with a little twirl of her fingers. Hunter swallows nervously, marveling at how easily they'd all just appeared out of thin air.

"What if I can't—" he falters, clenching and unclenching his hands as a sudden wave of insecurity overtakes him. "I mean, I don't have magic like you do, so I won't be able to do it as fast or as well as you."

Willow pauses in the middle of counting her collection, gaze softening as she glances up at him.

"That's okay. Humans manage to grow beautiful gardens without any magic. And you wouldn't need it anyway, since we're just starting out. Magic can be a little finicky sometimes, so it's actually better for the delicate little seedlings if you plant them by hand. So really, all you need is a pair of gentle, loving hands, and you're all set," she tells him, heat radiating through Hunter's ribcage as a pair of soft, warm hands come to rest overtop of his own.

"Oh. Well, that's—" he stumbles, all the moisture in his throat suddenly rushing to the corners of his eyes. "Thank you."

A gust of wind passes through the surrounding trees gating the backyard, letting sunlight spill through the branches in shivering, glittering bursts that dance across the surface of Willow's glasses as she stares at him, smile seeming to grow brighter with each degree Hunter's face heats up. It's been at least half a minute and she's still holding onto his hands, absentmindedly tracing one of the long, jagged scars along the back of it with the soft pad of her thumb.

Her eyes dart down between them, suddenly realizing what she's doing, and lets go as if she's been burned.

"So!" she blurts out, cheeks as red as the cheerful little tomatoes sketched across the front of the seed packet she tears open and carefully shakes out into Hunter's hands.

"First thing we need to do is make a little divot in the soil. Just gently work your finger — I like to use my pointer or my thumb — into the top layer of soil, until you've created a nice little bed for the seed to settle into," she explains, nervousness ebbing as she slips into plant mom mode. "Then, once you've placed your seed in its little bed, gently roll the soil overtop to tuck them in."

Hunter stares at her for a moment, heart skipping in his chest because oh Titan that's the cutest thing he's ever heard, and then quickly shakes his head, determined not to mess this up. He does as he's instructed, gently prodding the tip of his pointer finger into the soil until it's about an inch or two down. Then, he takes one of the little white seeds Willow has given him and carefully places it into the hollowed-out dirt, before smoothing his palm across the top.

"Like this?" he asks, mild panic rising in the pit of his stomach at the realization that he can no longer see how the little seed is doing.

"That's perfect," Willow reassures him with an encouraging smile, pausing to tear open another packet of seeds labeled basil. "Why don't you take care of the rest of the tomatoes while I get started on some of the others?"

Hunter nods, setting to work on his new task. After the initial worry of am I doing this right? wears off, Hunter finds that he actually really likes it, sinking into the relaxing, repetitive task with ease, the only sound the steady symphony of birds and bumblebees as they sweep through the backyard.

Lovelier still is the privilege of seeing Willow in her element, more vibrant and serene than he's seen her in months. As she works her way through her little collection of speciality seeds, muttering to herself as she assesses the best place for each fruit, vegetable, and herb to grow — "Hmm…let's put the blackberries next to the strawberries, shall we? You two don't mind being roommates, do you?" — Hunter can't help but steal glances at her out of the corners of his eyes, big goofy smile spreading across his face in earnest as he listens to her have full-fledged conversations with each and every one of them, apprising them of her grand plans to take good care of them, telling them she can't wait to see them flourish and grow into something beautiful.

"Okay, that's everything," she says with a satisfied sigh, turning to face him with a bright smile. "Thanks for all of your help, Hunter."

"Of course, Will—oh," Hunter falters, breath catching in his throat at the sight of her — hair wild and free from its signature braids, loose locks framing the soft curves of her face, cheeks a patchwork of ruddy exertion and smudges of dirt painted over a fresh burst of brown sugar cinnamon from where the sun has kissed her, branding new freckles across the bridge of her nose.

Hunter's fingers twitch with the urge to reach out and tuck them back behind her ears, to swipe his thumb against the little swatches of dirt peppered across her dimpled cheeks, to slide along the soft curve of her jaw, lean forward, and press his lips against hers — but instead, he keeps them right where they are, curled into the freshly-turned earth where he'd just been patting down his progress, and tries to remember how to breathe.

Before they go back inside, Willow sets him a small task: she'll take care of the rest, but the tomato plants are his responsibility. Hunter eagerly agrees, excited to take part in something she loves so dearly.

Willow finds him outside in the garden most days, laying on his stomach in front of the little wooden sign labeled tomatoes in her neat, swirling handwriting, talking to the little seedlings, encouraging them to grow big and strong. He's so excited when his little tomato plant sprouts its first leaf that he makes it all of five minutes before he's bursting into Luz's bedroom and dragging a very sleepy yet begrudgingly fond Willow out of bed early one morning to proudly point it out.

They use Hunter's ripened tomatoes and Willow's star anise to make dulce de tomate for the whole household, and Hunter can't help but beam with pride that he managed to grow something so vibrant and beautiful with his hands, without needing magic, just by being patient, gentle, and kind.

• • •

Chapter Text

• • •

In an attempt to improve their Spanish, Hunter, Willow, Gus, Amity, and Vee have been taking turns testing their skills through some kind of virtual class taught by a little green owl called Duo (who is very adamant about keeping up with practice sessions, sending them multiple semi-threatening notifications a day —

"Titan, this thing is horrifying. Reminds me of Hooty," Gus remarks as he reads the latest pop-up banner: Hoot hoot! Practice every day or I'll haunt your nightmares!

"Ehh, I ship it," Luz replies with a shrug and pensive frown.)

Today, it's just Hunter, Luz, and Amity (Willow busy with Camila tending to the garden, Gus and Vee helping harvest vegetables for tonight's dinner) the three of them crowded around Luz's phone in their little shack-turned-clubhouse, eagerly awaiting their test results to see which one of them scored Top Student.

Though his comprehension could still use a little work, Hunter has been getting a lot better with his pronunciation lately, and the little green nightmare owl seems to agree — this is his best score yet!

"Yes!" Hunter cheers, jumping up and down on the lumpy bean bag chair as he points a gloating finger at Amity. "In your face, Blight!"

"Enjoy your little victory, blondie." Amity rolls her eyes, but her smile is playful, used to their competitive banter. "I've got the best teacher right here," she says, swaying into Luz's side to give her a kiss on the cheek. "So I've got the benefit of extra lessons. That top student star is as good as mine."

"Batata, I say this with all the love in the world," Luz chuckles, leaning forward to nuzzle her nose against Amity's cheek. "But Vee's gonna beat out both of you, and you know it."

"Can't you just let us have this lie?" Amity pouts, snorting with laughter when Hunter loses his footing and falls flat on his ass.

The good news is that the bean bag chair is there to break his fall. The bad news (for Hunter's dignity, anyway) is that this is the exact moment Willow chooses to walk through the front door.

"Captain!" he shouts, struggling to regain his balance like a cartoon cat on a slippery floor, his whole face lighting up in a beatific smile at the sight of her — covered from head to toe in streaks of dirt and grass stains, hair a wild, sweaty, tangled mess, cheeks flushed in bright pink patches from the effort of working out in the sun all afternoon — and all he can think in that moment is Titan, she's beautiful.

"Hey guys!" she greets them, smile growing ever so slightly brighter as she turns her gaze on Hunter. "What're you up to?"

"Spanish Hooty just told me I was his top student!" Hunter exclaims, standing to attention and accidentally knocking Luz's phone to the floor in the process. He looks so proud, keen to show off his progress.

"That's amazing, Hunter!" Willow replies, beaming back at him.

Luz and Amity watch this little exchange from their newly-acquired space on the lumpy bean bag chair, turning to look at each other, conspiratorial smiles curling across both of their faces.

"Hey Hunter," Luz prompts, grabbing for her fallen phone. "Want to learn something a little more complicated?"

Hunter shakes his head, suddenly remembering that other people outside of Willow exist and are still in the room with them.

"Oh, uh…of course!" he says, turning back to face her, always eager to learn (and admittedly, to show off a little in front of Willow.)

"Okay. Here's how this is gonna work. I'm gonna write something out, and then you're gonna read it out loud," Luz says, struggling to keep a poker face as she quickly taps out a sentence on her phone and leans over to show it to Amity (who has to bite her lower lip to keep her smile in check) before handing it back over to Hunter.

"Sounds easy enough," he feigns, mild panic rising in his stomach at the idea of having to read something aloud. He may be getting better at repeating what he hears with adequate enunciation, but he's still struggling to understand what he's actually saying.

"Why don't you practice on Willow?" Amity suggests in an oh so casual and innocent tone, eyes practically sparkling with mischief. "And remember, maintaining eye contact is essential."

Hunter gives her a curt nod and squints down at the phone screen, silently mouthing the words written out in the little text chat. Once he's satisfied he's committed them to memory, he glances back up at Willow, heart stumbling in his chest as he catches sight of her encouraging smile.

Okay, here goes nothing.

"Eres la capitana de mi corazón y tu belleza no conoce límites," he recites in flawless Spanish, even getting the accent just right, chest puffing out with pride as he watches Willow's eyes light up in what he hopes is admiration. He has no idea what the hell he just said, but he's at least confident he got the delivery right.

Willow, who's spent enough time curled up on the couch watching romantic soaps with Luz, Amity, and Camila, understands the general gist, and a heat quite apart from afternoon sunburn radiates up the back of her neck. (Translation: you are the captain of my heart and your beauty knows no bounds.)

"Now say, 'cásate conmigo, mi amor,'" Luz blurts out, though it's a little bit muffled with her hands clapped over her mouth, shoulders shaking from the effort of trying not to laugh.

Hunter's not sure what to make of her strange behavior (maybe Amity just told her a funny joke? Amity seems to be struggling not to laugh as well, face buried in the crook of Luz's shoulder) so he just shrugs it off and repeats what she's asked him to, making sure to maintain perfect eye contact with Willow (whose face has somehow gotten even redder since the last time he saw her.)

"Cásate conmigo, mi amor," he tells her, softening his voice to a gentle hum to match the beautiful lilt of the language. Evidently that's the right move, because the big, goofy smile that spreads across Willow's face is positively radiant, hands coming up to tug on the ends of her braids in that cute way she always does whenever he says something that makes her particularly happy.

Hunter smiles back at her, bright red eyes sparkling with pride at having successfully impressed her with his newly acquired language skills.

"So, what did I just say to her?" he asks, turning to look at Luz, eager to make sure he got it right.

But Luz and Amity, who have been struggling to keep it together this entire time, merely burst out laughing, clutching each other for support as they roll right out of the bean bag chair and onto the floor, and Willow can't look at Hunter for the whole rest of the evening without giggling incessantly, face breaking out in bright red blotches.

He doesn't find out what it means until several weeks later, the whole household gathered together in the living room to watch one of Camila's favorite films, blushing up a storm bright enough to match all the tomatoes in his and Willow's garden as the two of them watch a pair of red string lovers propose to each other on screen.

• • •

Chapter Text

• • •

Ever since his foray into gardening, Hunter has been eager to learn everything he can about the subject, excited to grow something new with the same level of success as his tomato plants (and, if he's being honest, keen for any excuse to spend more time with Willow.)

They're curled up together on the couch late one afternoon, poring over one of Willow's human realm plant books, trying to decide what they'd like to grow next in — and Hunter can't help but vibrate with joy every time she emphasizes this — their garden, when Camila walks into the living room after a long day's shift, fond smile spreading across her face as she glances between the pair of them and coos, "Aww, look at you kids, all cozy. You two make such a cute couple. Did you go on a lot of double dates with Luz and Amity back in the demon realm?"

The effect is instantaneous, idyllic little world of their own popping like a soap bubble as the pair of them bolt upright, Willow's hair tangling in the buttons of Hunter's shirt where she'd been leaning her head against his shoulder, an imprint of a floral hair clip clearly visible across Hunter's cheek from where he'd been resting his head atop Willow's, smitten smiles and soft gazes giving way to flustered laughter and complexions so red Camila has half a mind to ask if they've been eating her ghost pepper chips again.

"Oh we're not— she's not my— we're just friends. Willow is way out of my league," Hunter blurts out around a bout of flustered, high-pitched laughter, while at the same time, Willow's face breaks into a radiant smile, answering automatically with a prideful, "Thank you!" before realizing she's just accepted a compliment for being in a couple with the guy she— whoops.

"I mean, we're not dating," she course-corrects with a nervous chuckle, shaking her head. "We're just—"

"Wait," she pauses, turning to face Hunter with a bewildered look on her face, eyes narrowing like she's genuinely offended by the words that just fell out of his mouth. "What do you mean out of your league?"

Hunter swallows thickly, blush deepening.

"Uh huh," Camila says, glancing between the pair of them with a disbelieving smirk. "Well, I should probably get started on dinner before Gus tries to eat one of my candles again. I'll leave you two friends to your studies."

"Do you need any help?" Hunter asks, casting shifty eyes toward Willow's scrutinizing gaze, silently pleading for an easy out.

"Thank you, cariño, but Luz, Vee, and I will manage. You two stay here and…chat," Camila says, thinking back to the last time Hunter tried to "help" with dinner and nearly set her kitchen on fire. Besides, she's not letting him get out of this that easily. Camila has a feeling this conversation is a long time coming.

The two of them watch as Mrs. Noceda disappears into the kitchen, Willow rounding on Hunter the minute she's out of earshot.

"Out of your league?" she repeats, sounding equal parts nettled and amused.

"I…uh…well, it's just—" Hunter waffles, searching the surrounding bookshelves and knick knack caddies for a plausible excuse. Sadly, none come to his rescue. Damn you, knick knacks.

Hunter heaves an exasperated sigh.

"I mean, look at you!" he explodes, arms thrown out in front of her like he's showcasing a wonder of the world, the tips of his ears redder than the setting sun.

Willow arches her eyebrows.

"Is there something wrong with the way I look?" she asks, smug smile curling its way across her lips at the sight of his beetroot complexion, eager to test the waters to see if he'll finally say the thing she's been hoping to hear all these months, waiting for the right moment, waiting for him to be ready.

"No!" Hunter exclaims, eyes widening in horror as he scrambles to correct that absurd assumption, hands flailing wildly. "Not at all! You are— Titan, you are literally so stunning, Willow. Not to mention, smart, and sweet, and funny, and strong — hell, you could easily kick my ass if you wanted to, but instead you've gone out of your way to save it more times than I can count, and I just— I didn't want anyone to think you'd, you know, settled…for someone like me."

He says this last part so softly, so wistfully, that Willow's heart aches at the sound of it, the self-deprecating little chuckle that barely passes his lips on a shaky exhale making her hands curl into fists at all the people who ever made him feel like he wasn't worth the world.

Willow's eyebrows narrow in anger, and for a moment, Hunter wonders whether she's about to yell at him, wonders what he could have possibly done wrong, when she leans forward, gently places her hands on either side of his face, and presses her lips against his.

It's a soft, chaste kiss, lasting for only a few seconds, but to Hunter, it feels like the whole of demon realm history could have passed him by and he wouldn't have noticed a damn thing, dozens of lifetimes spread over the course of hundreds of years flashing behind his eyelids, wondering what he could have possibly done to deserve something this wonderful, all that pain and anger and fear worth it just to exist in this singular moment, where all he knows is warm hands, soft lips, and the taste of watermelon lip balm clinging to chamomile tea.

When she pulls back, what feels like an eternity later and yet far too soon, Hunter can't help the blissful smile that curls across his face, gazing at her like she painted the night sky and hung all the stars just for him.

"You are amazing, and if I ever catch you saying bad stuff about yourself again, I will kick your ass," Willow threatens in an ominous tone, features melting into a soft, besotted smile as she adds, "In Mario Kart. Like I always do."

All Hunter can do is stare at her and slowly nod his head in reply, brain too short-circuited to speak, wires fried by the heat of the blush spreading like a wildfire from the tips of his ears to the swell of his cheekbones.

"Good," Willow says, the soft giggle that bubbles up inside her chest sending shock waves through Hunter's heart as she reaches up to smooth back that one stubborn lock of hair that's always dangling in front of his eyes. Hmm, Willow muses, his hair's getting long enough for her to have to cut it for him again.

With that settled, Willow reaches down into the space between them and carefully laces her fingers with his, using her other hand to prop open the book in her lap, and continue reading from where they'd left off. Hunter glances down at their entwined hands and lets out a slightly hysterical laugh, rest of the afternoon spent gazing at her and sighing like a lovesick fairy tale prince while she reads passages aloud.

A little while later, Luz comes bounding into the living room to let them know that dinner is ready, stopping short at the sight of Hunter fast asleep with his head in Willow's lap, Willow smiling down at him, gently carding her fingers through his hair.

"Well, this is cozy," Luz coos softly in an echo of her mother, and when Willow glances up at her, Luz can't help but think that she's never seen Willow look this happy.

"I think my boyfriend might be part golden retriever," she says, giggling at the way Hunter's tongue lolls out of his mouth when he snores, fluffy blond hair a sea of tumultuous waves.

"Yeah, he kinda reminds me of this one dog that's always—" Luz laughs, launching into vet clinic story mode, when her brain finally finishes processing the rest of what Willow has just said.

"Your what?" she exclaims, unable to contain her excitement.

Willow giggles softly and presses a finger to her lips, other hand moving to shield Hunter's notched ear as he grumbles and whines in his sleep, rolling over to bury his face into the plushy fabric of Willow's knitted sweater, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her as close as possible.

(Luz may or may not do some kind of celebratory fist pump when she hears the news, because oh my Titan finally, already planning a whole list of ideas for double dates for when everything goes back to normal.)

• • •

Chapter Text

• • •

Eager to help out around the house (and because it's technically their fault the windshield is splattered with mud in the first place) Luz and Hunter offer to wash Camila's minivan, bright sunshine and warm, balmy weather marking the first official day of summer.

What starts out as a friendly competition to see who can wash their side of the car the fastest ends up in an all-out war of soap suds and sprayed water, shrieking with laughter as they toss soapy sponges at one another like hand grenades, and chase each other around the driveway spraying each other with the garden hose.

With his newly-acquired weapon of aquatic destruction, Hunter aims the nozzle just above Luz's head, targeting her favorite baseball cap, but when he pulls the trigger, no water comes out.

"Huh? That's weird," he says, holding the hose eye-level and squinting down the tube. Out of nowhere, a huge burst of water comes gushing out, spraying him full in the face. Hunter splutters, looking up in time to see Luz lift her foot up off the section of the hose closest to the valve, clutching her stomach and cackling victoriously. Hunter huffs out a laugh, taking advantage of her momentary distraction with a well-aimed shot that knocks the baseball cap clean off her head.

"Okay, okay! Truce!" Luz shouts, snorting with laughter as she doubles back to pick up her hat. "I surrender!" she says, waving her bright yellow sponge like a white flag.

Hunter punches the air in victory, inadvertently dousing himself in a miniature waterfall, completely forgetting that the hose is still on full blast. Luz rolls her eyes in fond amusement, chuckling to herself as she twists off the valve, saving Hunter from plummeting face-first into a watery grave and widowing his beloved Captain, as he so dramatically puts it. (Still, it's kind of cute that he's already thinking about wanting to marry her. He must really be smitten. Luz can relate…)

"You guys got married and you didn't invite me to the wedding?" Luz gasps in mock offense, clapping a hand over her mouth. "Rude not to invite your own best man."

"First of all, Gus would be my best man. And second, it's just an expression," he says, the tips of his ears turning red in embarrassment. Hunter looks around wildly, as though expecting Willow to just suddenly pop up out of the ground at any moment (which…more likely than you'd think) and then leans in close, adding in a whisper, "Don't tell her I said that, though. I don't want her to think I'm too eager."

"It's a little late for that. You already proposed to her in Spanish," Luz reminds him, delighting in the way it makes his whole face burst into flames.

"Plus, chances are she'll think it's adorable," she reassures him with a playful punch to the shoulder. "She's probably already got all the flowers picked out for her bridal bouquet — red ones, to match your eyes."

Hunter ducks his head to hide a bright, euphoric smile, entirely unbothered by Luz's teasing laughter.

"Alright, well…the important thing is, we got all the mud off," Luz says, the two of them wincing slightly as they glance over at the absolute mess of a driveway covered in soapy puddles the size of small ponds. The minivan, however, sits in the middle looking perfectly pristine and squeaky clean.

"I'll put this stuff away while you get us some lemonades?" Luz suggests as she wipes a swatch of sparkling soap bubbles off her brow, hauling the half-filled bucket of soapy water over her shoulder.

"Deal," Hunter agrees, jogging over to the porch steps, red-faced and grinning, soaked to the bone, shaking out his hair like a dog after a bath.

He freezes in his tracks when he sees Camila standing in the doorframe, arms folded across her chest, shaking her head in fond amusement.

"I'm…sorry about the mess, Ms. Camila," he stutters out, looking shamefaced — a knee-jerk reaction to getting caught doing something he knows he probably shouldn't have. "I promise we'll clean it up."

"Don't apologize for having fun, mijo," she reassures him with a dismissive wave of her hand, taking a seat on the top-most step and gesturing for him to sit beside her. Hunter obliges, settling into his usual spot on the worn-down wood. He closes his eyes, exhaling on a steadying breath as he lets the relief that he's not in trouble wash over him, another gentle reminder that not every parent is like Belos.

"You two remind me so much of me and my siblings growing up," Camila says with a nostalgic chuckle, and Hunter opens his eyes, glancing over at her with a grateful smile.

"I'm glad Luz has you as a big brother," she adds, gently nudging Hunter's shoulder with her own.

It's not the first time she's called him family, but Hunter doesn't think he'll ever get used to it, a spark of warmth like he's just tipped back a vial of sunshine and firelight spreading through his chest at the very notion, thrilled to belong, proud to be thought of as a sibling to someone so awesome, only—

There's a part of him that's conflicted. A part of him that feels like he hasn't earned that right, like it's not his place.

"Oh. No, I—" he falters, a rueful crease set in his brow. "Luz already has a brother. I could never take King's place in her life."

"Yes, yes, I know about the little Titan," Camila chuckles with another dismissive wave of her hand. "But there's no rule that says you can't have more than one. As far as I'm concerned, you, Gus, and King are Luz's brothers. You're all a part of the Noceda family now. Don't you ever forget that."

Hunter stares at her, tears welling in the corners of his eyes, swallowing against a golf ball sized lump in the back of his throat. He tries to find his voice, to come up with the right words to express to her how much it means to him to be a part of something so wonderful and meaningful for the first time in his life.

"I— thank you, I'm so—" he starts, falling short as the rest of what she's just said finally sinks in. "Wait…KING IS A TITAN?"

Luz freezes with her foot hovering precariously over the bottom-most step, glancing up at Hunter with a sheepish grin.

"Ah. Knew there was something I was forgetting to tell you," she says, trudging up the steps and squeezing in on Hunter's other side with a heavy sigh.

"So, it all started when Eda enlisted me to help her track down King's crown in the Conformatorium. You see, King was a mighty king of demons, and he needed his crown of power and his army of stuffed bunnies by his side…" Luz begins, and Hunter listens enraptured as she delves into the history of the day she first met King, all the way up until the day they received a letter from someone they thought was his father, and traveled all the way to an island on the other side of the realm.

Hunter isn't sure which detail shocks him more: the fact that he'd once trapped a Titan in a birdcage and called him a weirdly endearing little rat, or the fact that one of his all-time favorite book series was written by the son of the Boiling Isles.

• • •

Chapter Text

• • •

They've been saving up since Christmas, eagerly anticipating this trip since before they'd even arrived in the human realm, and now Luz's birthday weekend is finally here. Luz comes prepared with a phone freed up for hundreds (scratch that, thousands) of photos, Willow with the vintage polaroid camera Camila gifted her for Christmas, while the rest of the gang picks up a couple of disposable cameras from a little travel shop on the drive down.

They come back home at the end of the day exhausted but buzzing with excitement, eager to see all the photos they took. A few days later, Camila returns from the pharmacy with the developed photos, and spreads them all out across the kitchen table so everyone can gather round and choose their favorites to keep as little souvenirs for their scrapbooks.

The first photo is one of the whole gang — Camila, Luz, Amity, Vee, Willow, Hunter, and Gus — all crowded together in front of entrance to the aquarium, arms wrapped around each other's shoulders, early riser coffee crew smiling brightly, sleepy bedhead crew stifling yawns and blinking blearily against the misty morning sun.

The next photo is one of Gus, taken by Willow, poring over an informational pamphlet detailing every exhibit the aquarium and zoo have to offer —

"I've been extensively researching the history of aquatic and land-dwelling human realm beasts in preparation for this day," Gus exclaims cheerfully, wide eyes taking in the stunning details of the massive blue whale replica suspended from the ceiling, encircled by a swirling school of opalescent plastic fish.

"Now, if you would be so kind as to direct me to the dinosaur exhibit, I'd like to say hello to Nessie!" he says, gleeful smile doused like a hurricane through candlelight as he catches sight of Luz's wincing, apologetic frown.

"Oooh, sorry bud, but you're about 65 million years too late," Luz informs him, looking genuinely sorry herself. She grabs a couple of pamphlets from the front entrance and hands one of them to Gus, who looks utterly devastated, hoping the exhibits they do have will spark back some of his excitement. "Here, why don't you take this? It'll tell you everything you need to know about every exhibit they've got here. I think you're really gonna like the shark tunnel."

"Sharks?" Gus perks up, interest renewed. "I've heard of those."

Gus's eyes light up immediately as he scans the pamphlet, flipping through the pages at lightning speed. "There's a whole list of fun facts under every exhibit! A veritable wealth of knowledge! Come on, we've gotta get moving if we're gonna make it to all of them. I don't want to miss a single thing!"

The next couple dozen photos, taken by everyone in their party, feature a collection of wall-to-wall tanks, home to an array of brightly-colored tropical fish, everything from clownfish to royal blue tangs — several of which star Gus walking ahead of the rest of the group with his pamphlet held proudly aloft, in the middle of reciting various fun facts about all the different types of fish, taking it upon himself to act as their unofficial tour guide.

The next few photos, taken by Hunter, feature a bright-eyed Willow pressing her face up against the glass of the axolotl tank, in the middle of exclaiming, "Hi babies! I can't believe you're actually real! I've got an axolotl onesie back home that looks just like you!" as she points enthusiastically toward a little family of pink and white amphibians. The following set of photos are also all of Willow, hugging a stuffed pink axolotl plushie from the gift shop courtesy of her beaming boyfriend, smiling so brightly her eyes look like little half-moons behind her gold-rimmed glasses.

The next one is of Hunter, taken by Willow, standing in front of a tank with a peach-colored octopus floating in the center, twirling its tiny tentacles in a graceful little water waltz, eyes wide with absolute adoration as he enthusiastically points to a sign that reads The Flapjack Octopus: also known as adorabilis, a species of umbrella octopus.

The next photo also features Hunter, staring down lovingly at a little plush replica of a Flapjack Octopus, cradled in the palms of his hands as though it were a precious baby bird. In the next one, he's gazing just as lovingly (if not more so) at the photographer, who'd said she was just going to the bathroom, but who was actually sneaking off to the gift shop to buy her boyfriend a little souvenir of his new favorite sea creature.

• • •

Next on their list is the unanimously agreed-upon shark exhibit, featuring a fully-immersive shark tunnel — half a meter's width of reinforced glass encasing them in a world of blue, green, and silver, lit by the golden glow of lights that shimmer and ripple across the surface of the water as an array of nurse sharks, bull sharks, tiger sharks, sandbars, and hammerheads glide above their heads and below their feet.

They take so many photos of this exhibit, all six of them posing in front of the glass, trying to get the perfect shot with a shark swimming over their heads, that they nearly use up all their film, and Camila has to remind them to save their rolls, because they've still got several other aquarium exhibits and a whole outdoor zoo to explore.

Since they all enjoyed the shark tunnel so much, they thought they would enjoy the shark bridge — an 80-foot reinforced rope bridge suspended mere feet above the aquarium's largest shark tank, a bold sign at the entrance asking do you dare to cross these shark-infested waters? — just as much, if not more.

But they were wrong. They were so very, very wrong.

As the seven of them traipse across the swaying bridge, Gus decides that this is the opportune moment to play tour guide, reading aloud from the section of the pamphlet labeled Fun Facts About Sharks.

"Sharks are ancient creatures that have been roaming the earth for at least four hundred and twenty million years," he begins in a theatrical tone not unlike his father's broadcasts, showmanship clearly an inherited trait. "As of right now, we know of over five hundred different types of sharks, though new species are constantly getting discovered every year. Fossils found over time suggest that millions of years ago, there may have been well over three thousand different species of shark."

Everyone hums in intrigue and appreciation. What an interesting fact! But then—

"Sharks are one of earth's most powerful predators, with few known competitors," he continues with the same amount of gusto. "It's hard to see in the murky waters of the deep, but sharks have excellent vision. They can also detect electrical impulses, including another animal's beating heart."

Aaaaaand good feeling gone.

A shiver of fear runs up the length of all of their spines as one by one, they picture what it would be like to come across a shark in the depths of murky waters, panicked heartbeat like a beacon to the human realm's most fearsome predator.

"A shark’s sense of smell is ten thousand times better than a human’s," Gus informs them a moment later. "A shark can smell a single drop of blood in the water, though this doesn't always mean they will go on the hunt. A shark will only eat when it's hungry, and they are very picky eaters. Sharks will often take a bite out of something before deciding to go for the kill — this is why they often swim away after 'tasting' a human."

They're halfway across the bridge now, another family with rowdy children on their tails. One of the little ones starts shaking the sides of the bridge in excitement, eager to see a shark fin pop up out of the water, and Hunter has a sudden, visceral image of ropes unraveling, sending them all to the watery depths below.

"Another fun fact!" Gus shouts, shaking Hunter out of his nightmarish daydream. "Did you know that most sharks have several rows of teeth, and some can have as many as three thousand teeth in their mouths at any given time?"

Hunter's heart pounds inside his chest. Most witches and humans have about thirty-two teeth in their mouth. Sharks, evidently, have three thousand. As far as Hunter is concerned, that's 2,968 too many.

"Sharks can range in size from tiny to as big as a city bus!" Gus recites from the pamphlet with unbridled excitement, oblivious to Hunter's mounting panic. "For example, the spined pygmy shark only grows to about seven inches long, while the whale shark can reach up to fifty feet in length!"

Hunter remembers the size of the bus they'd ridden back home from their trip to the mall that one time. Imagines something with three thousand teeth the size of that swimming around in the water, and swallows against a sandpaper throat.

"Did you know that the megalodon — the biggest and oldest shark in human history — could grow to over sixty feet in length?" Gus says enthusiastically.

Hunter, Willow, and Amity turn to stare at him in wide-eyed horror.

"Oh, but don't worry. They all went extinct about twenty million years ago," Gus reassures them. Waits until he sees their shoulders slump in relief to chime in with an ominous, "Probably," delighting in the way their eyes grow even wider.

"Although…" he muses, a positively impish smile curling across his face. "Those time pools containing Titan's blood…there's a chance one of them could've gotten through, made its way into our world. But they'd never survive the heat of the Boiling Sea…right?"

Hunter's eyes are the size of dinner plates. Out of all of them, he's the only one who's actually been in the Boiling Sea. If he could survive the heat, then what if…

"Get me off this nightmare bridge!" Hunter yelps, rushing past Luz, Amity, Gus, Camila, and Vee, tugging an all-too-eager Willow behind him.

The moment he's off the bridge, Hunter finds a secluded area in front of a tank with harmless little starfish stuck to the sides of the glass, hugging his knees to his chest, four fingers held up as he practices Willow's breathing technique. Willow has to hold him and stroke his hair for five full minutes just to get his heart rate back to normal, and Gus has to promise to never tell him any fun facts about sharks ever again.

• • •

They thought they'd seen the worst of human realm horrors with the shark bridge, but the Creatures Of The Deep exhibit quite effectively blows sharks out of the water. "Dwelling among the depths of the ocean, below the photic zone, these creatures must endure harsh conditions to survive, such as hundreds of bars of pressure, small amounts of oxygen, very little food, no sunlight, and constant, extreme cold."

Thankfully, none of the creatures featured in this exhibit are actually swimming around in any tanks, but the replicas are realistic enough to strike fear into their hearts in the darkened corridor, lit only by an eerie bluish-green light meant to mimic life on the ocean floor. Angler fish, goblin sharks, vampire squids, viperfish — most of them sound like they belong in the demon realm, but they're all of human realm origin, and all of them are utterly terrifying.

The jellyfish exhibit is a welcome sight after all the horrors they've just witnessed. Though just as dark as Creatures Of The Deep, this exhibit is lit by the bioluminescent glow of hundreds of moon jellyfish, floating like gravity-defying ghosts in wall-to-wall tanks across the corridor, shimmering in neon hues of pink, purple, and bright blue.

Their disposable cameras aren't strong enough to capture more than murky blurs, but Luz manages to snag a couple of photos with her phone —

A few capturing the swirling, shimmering jellyfish themselves.

One of her and Amity, lit up in the glow of the tank, pink and blue sparks dancing in their amber eyes.

One of her mother and Vee staring up at the tank in awe, Camila's arm wrapped around her honorary second daughter, hugging her close.

One of Gus with his face pressed right up against the glass, caught in the middle of a slow motion dance battle with one of the swaying jellyfish.

And finally, one of Hunter and Willow, silhouetted in the neon glow of the largest tank, Hunter's head resting against Willow's shoulder as her hand slips into his.

• • •

The outdoor exhibits are quite literally a blast, the seven of them shrieking with laughter every time they get sprayed with a spritz of saltwater as they watch dolphins jump across the surface of the pool in the open sea exhibit, sea lions swarming to catch tossed fish, hippos emerging from the depths of their murky green pools, penguins and polar bears diving into the arctic depths of their bright blue pools, and walruses sunbathing on the rocks of their enclosure.

Willow falls in love with a little enclosure of baby seals, hearts in her eyes as she coos over how sweet and fluffy they are, and Hunter nearly gets himself thrown out of the park when he marches up to a security guard, chest puffed out with an air of that old golden guard bravado, and insists that his girlfriend be allowed to pet one. (He settles for sneaking back into the aquarium's gift shop and buying her a little seal plush, testing them all out to ensure he's chosen the fluffiest one with the biggest, cutest eyes.)

They've saved the best for last, Luz squealing with delight as she bounds over to an enclosure of otters lounging about on a manmade river bank. Taking over Gus's role as tour guide, Luz reads the little blurb aloud, all seven of them cooing "awwwwwww" when she gets to the part about how otters fall asleep holding hands.

At least 1/5 of Luz's camera roll is dedicated to photos of otters, another fifth spent trying to get the perfect shot of her and Amity holding hands next to a snoozing otter couple, most of which end up being blurry, or one of them blinked, or the otters woke up and stopped holding hands before they could snag a picture.

(Hunter quickly pockets the well-lit, crystal clear, perfectly posed photograph he'd taken of himself and Willow from the kitchen table before Luz can notice, a veritable army of hand-holding otters dozing adorably behind them as they hold up their entwined hands for the camera.)

• • •

The outdoor aquarium exhibits lead directly into the entrance of the zoo, where the seven of them stop to pose for a bunch of group photos before moving into the first section, which features several expansive jungle-like enclosures, housing all manner of tiny tree monkeys to giant gorillas.

Gus is skeptical when he learns that humans share a common ancestor with these creatures, but Hunter, catching sight of Luz hanging upside down on an apparatus literally called monkey bars, pulling out her ears and puffing out her cheeks in an effort to try and make Amity laugh, thinks he can see the resemblance.

Nearly a third of Amity's camera roll is dedicated to the big cats exhibit, from lions to tigers to leopards to lynx, while Luz smiles on adoringly, snapping photos of her girlfriend excitedly pointing to an enclosure of a snoozing white tiger, in the middle of exclaiming, "This one looks just like Ghost!"

(Despite Amity's insistence that it's Luz's birthday, and therefore she shouldn't be the one buying gifts, Amity ends up leaving the park that night with a white tiger plush tucked under her arm, while Luz proudly wears her brand new snake plushy courtesy of her awesome girlfriend wrapped around her neck like a fancy scarf, leaning in to kiss a giggling, blushing Amity as she whispers, "Best. Birthday. Ever.")

Hunter goes wild for the wolf exhibit, pressing his face up against the glass and cooing over how mystical they are, reading out a long list of fun facts with enough enthusiasm to rival Gus's love of sharks as Willow stands beside him, gazing up at him with a look of absolute adoration in her eyes.

"Oh, this is an interesting one!" he exclaims, reading from a pamphlet titled Wolf Facts 101. "Did you know that wolves will often lick each other's mouths as a way to show affection? Kind of charming, don't you think?"

A sly smile spreads across Willow's face.

"Is that a hint?" she asks, eyebrows arched suggestively.

Hunter stares back at her, the tips of his ears burning bright red as the meaning of her words sink in.

"Oh!" he exclaims, Adam's apple straining against the column of his throat. They've kissed a few more times since that cozy, sun-filled afternoon, but Hunter swears he'll never get used to it for as long as he lives, still tripping over his own skipping heart every time he gets to call her his girlfriend, terrified that at any moment, he'll wake up and it'll all have been a dream.

"No, I wasn't trying to suggest— I mean, unless you want— I—"

"Easy there, wolf boy," Willow teases, leaning in close and lifting up onto her toes to press a soft kiss against his lips, giggling when she pulls back to find Hunter gazing dreamily at her, hearts in his eyes.

"Did you know," she says, reaching into the depths of her purse and pulling out a pair of little grey wolves she'd snagged from the zoo's gift shop while Hunter was distracted looking at meerkats with Gus, knowing full well that her wolf-obsessed boyfriend would go absolutely bananas over them.

He'd even worn his handmade wolf t-shirt to the park just for the occasion (and don't think it escaped Willow's notice that the pair of mated wolves with their noses pressed together in the entrance of the cave just so happen to have golden brown fur with red eyes, and jet black fur with green eyes — that combination must have taken him ages to track down.)

"…that wolves mate for life? Kind of charming, don't you think?" she asks as she places the plushies in Hunter's outstretched hands.

Hunter stares at her, lips tugging into a soft, besotted smile as he cradles the two little wolves to his chest like a precious treasure.

"Is that a hint?" he asks, heart going wild as Willow's whole face lights up in a radiant smile, closing the distance between them to draw him in for another kiss.

• • •

"I thought you said dinosaurs went extinct," Gus remarks when they pass by the elephant enclosure, pointing out their remarkable size, leathery skin, and massive tusks, but Luz merely laughs and assures him that those are mammals, whereas most dinosaurs were reptiles. Gus is dubious, insisting that there's more of a resemblance to modern human world birds than there is to any of the snakes or lizards they saw back in the reptile house.

"According to my research, Flapjack is actually the closest living relative to the Cretaceous era's raptors, and—" Gus stops short, mouth falling open as he catches sight of the demon realm's banished legends.

"Oh my Titan, they're actually real. Everyone said it was just a myth, but here they are, in all of their gangly, golden glory. Thirteen years of training to become an ambassador to the human realm and re-establish contact with our long-lost brethren has lead me to this moment," Gus declares, misty-eyed, striding triumphantly toward the giraffe enclosure.

He's admittedly quite disappointed when they don't respond to his greetings and attempts to ask why they were banished from the demon realm in the first place. Though he does come away with a couple of special souvenirs —

A giant stuffed giraffe nearly half his size, split between Hunter and Willow.

A human realm collector's coin that had gone through some kind of complicated crank machine and come out flattened with the image of a giraffe embossed in the shiny copper metal.

A couple of cute photos of him posing in front of the enclosure, including one of Gus laughing as one of the giraffes leans over the side and tries to lick his hand.

And a couple of accidental blurry shots of one of his legs slung over the side of the enclosure as he'd attempted to climb in, before Hunter and Luz had rushed forward to pull him back. (He's still salty about it.)

• • •

Nearly half of Willow's camera roll features gorgeous landscapes and up-close shots of flora and fauna from the rainforest and exotic plants exhibits, from twisting flowering vines, to towering treetop canopies, to sweet-smelling tropical blossoms, to fruit-bearing perennials, with quite a few of herself and Hunter posting in front of lush, vivid green backgrounds sprinkled in between.

Hunter maxes out the rest of his camera roll taking photos of Willow's reaction to the exhibit, catching her profile just right as the sunlight pours through the trees and silhouettes her in a soft golden glow, pretty floral sundress dancing around her knees as they're caught in a balmy breeze, smiling so wide her eyes crinkle into little half-moons as she crouches down to smell a brightly-colored purple bloom called a passion flower.

The rainforest exhibit leads them into the bird sanctuary, home to a colorful collection of mystical aviary beasts. The birds here are very different from the ones they're used to seeing back in the demon realm, save for a few exceptions (the human realm does have owls, cardinals, and crows, after all) but these birds are all much larger than Flapjack and Owlbert, some with long curved beaks, some with an array of brightly-colored feathers and wingspans that stretch farther than Hunter stands tall.

When the seven of them all walk in, one of the caretakers just so happens to be in the middle of a presentation, introducing a group of small schoolchildren to a rainbow-colored macaw. What none of them expect, least of all Hunter, is for all of the uncaged birds in the showcase to flock toward him, about a dozen of them perching comfortably on his shoulders and outstretched arms, one even trying to make a nest on top of his head.

The caretaker rushes over, apologizing profusely and attempting to coax the birds from his arms, but Hunter merely laughs, assuring her that it's perfectly fine, he's used to this. According to the caretaker, this type of behavior indicates that the birds think of Hunter as a safe haven, and Hunter can't help but beam back at her when he hears that. He snags one of several photos Luz and Willow took to capture the moment to keep for his scrapbook, nuzzling his cheek against Flapjack's beak as he comes swooping over from the top of the fridge to land on Hunter's shoulder.

• • •

The last exhibit has an interactive element, allowing them all to reach over the top of the fence and gently pat the tops of the animals' heads, caretakers handing out various vegetables and handfuls of specially-crafted pellets for the guests to feed a ravenous array of goats, llamas, alpacas, sheep, ponies, and donkeys.

While sitting on a nearby bench holding a handful of carrots and dandelion leaves, Hunter gets swarmed by a hoard of wild bunnies that aren't even a part of the zoo's exhibits, and winds up getting down on his hands and knees to feed them, tentatively reaching out to stroke right between their floppy little ears.

"It's official, you're a Disney princess," Luz teases him as she holds up a photo of Hunter with a dozen birds perched on his outstretched arms, right next to a photo of him surrounded by a fluffle of at least twenty hungry baby bunnies. "Now all you need is a knight in shining armor to rescue you—"

"Check," Hunter says, grinning down at Willow, who smiles brightly back at him and shakes her shoulders in a little happy dance.

"And an angelic singing voice—" Luz continues, smiling between the pair of them.

"Check," Willow says, beaming up at a suddenly very flustered, sheepishly smiling Hunter.

When Luz casts her a curious look, Willow simply shrugs and says, "Sometimes he sings to me while we're working in the garden," and Hunter barely escapes with his life as Luz swerves in for a tackle hug, shaking him violently and shouting, "Oh my god, that is literally the cutest thing I've ever heard!"

• • •

The very last photo in their grand collection features all seven of them crowded around a bench near the exit, contented smiles spread across their sunkissed faces, chocolate and vanilla swirl ice cream dipped in rainbow sprinkles melting in their hands as they watch the elephants, zebras, and giraffes graze in the light of the setting sun.

• • •

Chapter Text

• • •

Hunter doesn't know exactly when his birthday is (Belos never told him — celebrating birthdays and holidays was frowned upon back in the coven — no time for useless frivolity when there's so much work to be done, he'd say whenever Hunter would be brave enough to ask) but Darius had ventured that he was around sixteen years old nearly a year ago, so he must be getting close to turning seventeen by now, and Camila says that in the human realm, that's the age when you can get a special license to pilot drive an airship a car.

They aren't exactly sure how long they're going to be here, but learning how to operate human realm travel machinery would be a very useful skill to have, and would certainly help Camila, having another person in the household who knows how to drive, especially if they're talking about forging documentation and enrolling them all in high school this coming autumn.

So, over the summer, Camila has been teaching Hunter how to drive, taking turns with the others watching from the backseat so that they can learn too. It isn't nearly as difficult as Hunter imagined it would be — after all, he's been flying his own airship since he was twelve years old.

They'd started off small, with Hunter getting used to sitting in the pilot's driver's seat and learning what all the different buttons and levers do, memorizing the driver's handbook so he knows all the rules. After that, they'd moved on to practicing in parking lots. Then, to taking little trips down the street to the coffee shop, across town to buy groceries, on the multi-lane highway to the mall, until eventually, Hunter and Camila split all the driving 50/50.

It's early evening and they've just come back from another grocery store run, Hunter sitting comfortably in the driver's seat while he and Camila duet to one of her favorite songs on the radio. Hunter pulls carefully into the driveway, puts the minivan in park, and twists the key to turn off the engine just as he was taught, preening as he usually does whenever Camila tells him he did a great job.

"You're getting really good at this, mijo. I think you might be ready for your first solo trip," she says, taking the keys back from him so she can let them both into the house.

"Really?" he asks, still getting used to receiving genuine praise that isn't masquerading as backhanded criticism or some form of emotional manipulation.

"Yeah," Camila laughs, handing him one of the bags of groceries so they can both share the weight. "Did you have anywhere in mind?"

"Well," he says, mulling it over, still a little hesitant to voice his interests, but getting braver every day. "Luz has been talking about wanting to go to the beach before the end of summer. Outside of missions, I've never really been…and even then, well…with a name like The Boiling Sea, you can probably imagine exactly how not fun a recreational trip there would be."

"Did someone say breach trip?" Luz comes bounding into the kitchen, eyes bright and hopeful as she takes the grocery bags out of her mother's and Hunter's arms and starts putting things away (she does it to appear like she's being helpful, but really it's a ruse to get her hands on all the best snacks.)

"I swear, you hearing the word beach is like a dog hearing the word treat," Camila laughs, snagging a box of cookies out of her daughter's hands and putting it back into the cupboard.

She turns toward Hunter, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It's a little further than you're used to, mijo, but if you think you're ready, then I trust you."

And there's that comforting warmth again, spreading through his chest all the way to his fingertips, making him feel a little less like a burden every time she reassures him he's doing something right. Every time she calls him son.

"Thank you," he says with a smile that reaches his eyes.

"Just keep in mind, you're gonna have to deal with a car full of teenagers, and you know Luz is gonna want control of the playlist," Camila warns him with equal parts mirth and sincerity, patting him on the shoulder before heading into the living room with the box of cookies she'd snagged from Luz.

Hunter's smile grows a little wider at the thought.

• • •

The following Friday, all six of them head to the mall to pick out swimsuits. Since it's nearing the end of the season, there's lots of clearance sales, which suits their dwindling wallets just fine. Hunter finds a pair of swim trunks he likes almost instantly — dark blue with cheerful little watermelons stitched across the pockets and thighs, a perfect match for his favorite pair of pajama pants — vehemently rejecting the pair with Hawaiian print flowers that Luz jokingly shoves into his hands. Gus goes with a simple gradient blue pair he finds in the same section.

The girls take a little longer to find theirs, given all the different (and in Hunter's opinion, overly complicated) styles they have to choose from, especially since over half of them either have missing tops or bottoms to match. Luz buys herself a new suit since she's grown out of her old one, finding a replacement that matches her iconic purple and white sweatshirt, while Amity goes with a pretty lavender colored suit paired with a mermaid scale patterned wrap, and Vee sets her sights on a pretty sunset-colored one-piece.

Hunter struggles to pick his jaw up off the floor when Willow walks out of the dressing room wearing a high-waisted forest green wrap bikini with a cute little ruffled skirt attached, golden flowers woven into the shimmering fabric. Honestly, it's a wonder they make it back to the house in one piece, given how distracted Hunter is on the drive home.

• • •

The next morning, far too early for everyone but Hunter's liking (after years of being trained to think 6AM was considered sleeping in, 9AM is definitely not too early) the five of them pile into Camila's minivan and start heading toward the coast, while Vee assures them she'll catch up with them later on, opting to ride with Masha and their friends, since one of them just got their license.

A couple of hours and several snack and bathroom stops later, they come up on the coastline, sunlight glittering across the surface of the deep blue sea, set against a backdrop of fluffy white clouds scattered across the bright blue sky. The air feels different on the coast than it does in the suburbs — thicker, more humid, perfumed with saltwater and sun-baked sand.

Before Hunter can even put the car in park, they're all practically spilling out the doors, rushing to set up camp on a secluded patch of sand with a perfect view of the horizon. Since it's still relatively early in the day, there aren't a whole lot of people here yet, which suits them all just fine. Quiet beach days are the best kind of beach days.

They'd all come dressed in their swimsuits, with a light layer of clothing overtop just in case it gets cold. Hunter had thought that seeing Willow in her suit the day before would've made him at least a little more immune to plant witch brainrot, but the moment she shrugs off her shorts and sweater, he's hot around the collar, not even five minutes in the sun and already his face is flushed like he's got second degree sunburn.

Willow giggles and bites her lower lip to hold back a self-assured little smile the moment she realizes exactly how flustered she makes him, only to join him in wide-eyed, open-mouthed, red-faced hell when he slips off his t-shirt to reveal an expanse of pale, scarred skin stretching over well-toned muscle from years of strength and combat training.

For a moment, Hunter worries that her expression is one of shock or pity (or maybe even disgust — what if he's too pale, too skinny, covered in too many scars — there's a reason he'd kept them hidden for so long) but then he notices the delicate shade of pink slowly spreading from her cheeks to the tips of her ears, the way her pupils dilate to the point of nearly eclipsing her bright green irises as she gazes at him, the way she has to pause to take a slow, steadying breath as her eyes chart a trail across his torso, tongue darting out to lick her lips in absentminded awe, and Hunter's heart thunders inside his chest like the distant crashing waves, each beat a roaring symphony of how much he adores her, because—

Oh Titan. She likes him.

Willow likes the way he looks, even the parts he'd thought were too damaged, too ugly, a litany of pale pink reminders of all the times he'd ever failed. But they're not, are they? What his scars really are, Hunter thinks back to all the times Willow gently traced them with the soft pads of her fingers, remarking at how brave and strong he must have been to have amassed them all, are reminders of the fact that he survived.

Hunter didn't think it was possible to blush any harder than he already was, but if anyone can manage to instill that kind of heat in him, it's Willow.

• • •

They spend the morning lounging on their little setup at the top of a sand dune with the perfect view of the ocean, spread out on a bunch of beach towels underneath a giant striped rainbow umbrella. With enough convincing and reassurance from Luz, they all step forward and let the water wash over their feet as a shallow wave comes in with the tide, pleasantly surprised by how cool it is, how nice and refreshing it feels on their skin after walking across the hot sand. It's nothing at all like the Boiling Sea, and they have to admit that as far as oceans go, this is a point in the human realm's favor.

A little after noon, they join Vee and Masha and their summer camp friends up on the boardwalk, perusing cute little shops selling seaside themed trinkets and brightly-colored beads braided into wish bracelets. They make a quick pit stop at a statue of a dolphin spouting water into a wishing well filled with glittering coins, so that everyone can make their wishes and fasten their bracelets to their wrists and ankles — Luz and Amity sport matching pink and purple ones, while Vee and Masha coordinate matching rainbow ones, Willow ties a red and gold one to Hunter's wrist, while Hunter knots a green and gold one around Willow's ankle, and Hunter helps Gus fasten one with bright blue beads around his wrist that he and Willow insisted on buying for him.

It's late afternoon by the time they stop for lunch at a little family-owned fish and chips place on the edge of the boardwalk, Willow offering Hunter the rest of her fries after his get stolen by a flock of territorial seagulls (while Luz cackles and threatens to revoke his Disney princess card.)

After lunch, they all split off into smaller groups. Vee, Masha, and their friends opt for the arcade, aiming to pool their winnings to score a big-ticket item off the prize wall.

Luz and Amity spend the afternoon walking along the beach taking cute couple photos, collecting pretty seashells, and splashing around in the waves, Amity enamored by how brave Luz is to wade out so far and dive under the current.

Gus buys himself another disposable camera from one of the shops and sets off to explore the landscape, eager to check out a curious rock formation where the shore meets the edge of a cliff.

Hunter and Willow set up camp beneath the shade of the rainbow umbrella, a little closer to the water this time, digging their toes into the sand, laying side by side on a shared beach towel with their hands propping up their chins, enjoying a couple of ice cream cones they bought from a local shop on the boardwalk.

Hunter's already inhaled his cappuccino crunch, but Willow's blackberry currant is melting down her waffle cone faster than she can eat it, making a sticky sugary mess all over her hands. She tries to finish it before the last scoop collapses into the sand, and ends up with a little purple streak across the edge of her chin, just below her lips.

"I've got you," Hunter chuckles, reaching up to gently swipe it off with the soft pad of his thumb, fingertips lingering on the curve of her jaw.

"You just gonna stare at me all day, or are you gonna kiss me?" Willow teases with an impish smile, eyes fluttering closed as Hunter eagerly leans in, lips a mere breath away from hers, when—

"Hey guys!" Gus exclaims, out of breath as he rushes toward them, a very curious-looking Luz and Amity in tow. "Sorry to interrupt, but, uh…you're gonna want to see this."

• • •

It's strange. You don't fully appreciate how much you're going to miss a place, even one you've been longing to leave, until it's your last night there. They've made their plans, packed their supplies, and now here they are closing in on midnight, too anxious and excited to sleep, crowns of their heads just barely touching one another's as the six of them lay in a perfect circle on a soft patch of grass in Luz's backyard, palismen chasing each other around the garden, playing with their newest companion.

It figures that the night before they're set to return to the demon realm, Luz's egg finally hatches. "Welcome to the world, little buddy," Luz had said as she beamed down at her new palisman, scooping the tiny Titan into her arms and showering them in hugs and kisses, which they happily returned, nuzzling against her cheek with a soft, happy weh. Luz couldn't have imagined a more perfect palisman — King in miniature, but with wings just like Eda's harpy form. Luz names them Prince. It feels like a good omen.

It's a cloudless summer night, stars scattered like silver and gold flecks of paint across an inky black sky. As they lay there, staring up into the seemingly endless expanse, they try to guess the names of all the different constellations, tracing their own shapes and patterns to connect the tiny twinkling dots, comparing them to the ones back in the demon realm.

The star formations here are so wildly different, but no less beautiful, no less bright and colorful. Though none of them will admit it out loud, they've all got mixed emotions about returning back home, terrified at the thought of what kind of world they'll be returning to. There's no telling what kind of chaos the Collector could be wreaking — ironic, how they're all so worried about facing up against a child of the stars, when the night sky above them is so peaceful.

It's the calm before the storm, and for the moment, they're content to just live within this peaceful little pocket of time for as long as they can. A collective sigh passes through them as they settle into a comfortable silence, letting their minds fall blank and simply existing in the moment — for right now, it's just them and the stars.

"Novalunosis," Hunter says in a soft, almost dreamlike voice. "That's what you're all feeling right now."

When he speaks, he's met with genuine hums of interest, Gus and Willow nudging his shoulders from either side of him, encouraging smiles lighting up their faces in the golden glow of the porch light. He's grown so used to having people in his life who actually care about what he has to say, who not only don't mind his impassioned info-dumping, but actively encourage it, that he's almost forgotten what it felt like to be ignored, scoffed at, told his musings were boring, the sound of his voice annoying. They haven't even been gone a full year, but his old life already feels like a lifetime ago.

Hunter watches as Luz and Amity reach across the space between them to interlock hands, and breathes out on a long, slow sigh, letting his own fall back against the grass. A few seconds later, he feels soft fingertips dance against the palm of his hand, and glances up to see Willow lacing her fingers with his, a tentative, hopeful smile on her face.

Hunter smiles back at her in full, delighting in the way her cheeks dimple as she mirrors him, giving the palm of her hand an affectionate three-pulse squeeze. It's something he's seen Luz and Amity do time and time again these past few months, and he may not know much, or be well-versed in the language of romance and relationships, but he's fairly certain that translation is universal.

The rain comes out of nowhere, big fat drops pouring down from the sky and sinking deep into the soil beneath them, a cool refreshing break from the sweltering humidity of summer's last breath, far more welcome than the downpour they'd endured when they'd first arrived. It's kind of poetic, the way it rains on both their first and last night in the human realm.

While everyone else rushes inside, giggling and screaming as they splash through muddy puddles, Hunter slowly gets to his feet, but doesn't make any move to return to the house. Willow gives his hand a gentle tug to prod him forward, but he stays rooted to the spot, smiling face turned up toward the sky, letting himself get soaked through.

"Hunter," Willow laughs, playfully scolding him, but she makes no move to head back inside either, her grip on his hand a little tighter as she gives his palm an identical three-pulse squeeze.

Hunter glances down at her through one half-lidded eye, the other squeezed shut to keep the water out, smile growing bigger by the second. He doesn't know a single thing about dancing, but that doesn't stop him from drawing her toward him and twirling her in a little pirouette, the sound of her laughter vibrating against his ribcage as he pulls her close to his chest, slides a hand against the soft curve of her jaw, and kisses her senseless.

• • •

It figures — all this time spent researching, hoping for an answer, and in the end, they find their way back to the demon realm entirely by accident. At the very edge of the beach, disguised as a cluster of rocks that Gus had been so eager to explore the day before, sits a little grotto hidden by a curtain of seaweed, bright blue patches suspended like ink blots across the surface of the shallow pool, untouched by the crashing ocean waves just outside.

Titan's blood. Enough to power countless dozens of portal keys. Enough for each of them to collect a vial's worth, while still leaving plenty behind to secure their way back home.

When last they were here, Hunter had offered to be the one to test it out, arguing that his time spent traveling all over the Isles on various missions and extensively studying maps of every chartable area in the demon realm would allow him to confirm not only if they'd made it back, but where precisely they would end up when they returned the following day.

The four of them held their breath as Hunter disappeared through the darkened mouth of the cave, a collective sigh of relief issuing from his friends when he'd returned a few minutes later, confirming that the portal does in fact lead to a cavern on the other side — a little-known place just outside the Isles, but one he'd come to know quite well in his travels. As far as he could tell, it was peaceful, quiet, and safe, as yet untouched by the Collector — a perfect place to sneak back in unnoticed.

It's a place where myriad time pools often crop up — while there, he'd gotten curious and stuck his head into one of them, watched the Emperor's Castle crumble from a safe distance as the Collector tore it apart for their twisted game — and it made him wonder…maybe, if they were lucky, they could find it again, go back to the moment mere seconds after they'd left through the portal to the human realm, find everyone, fight alongside them, help keep them safe. It would be like they'd never been gone at all.

The five of them stand ready in front of the grotto early the following morning, Camila and Vee by their side, ready to go through as a family united.

"I'm so proud of you, mija," Camila tells her daughter, eyes brimming with tears as she kisses the top of Luz's forehead, drawing her into a hug. "Now, let's go save the world. I can't wait to meet the rest of your family, see your other home, see all the stuff you've learned at your magic school."

"I can't wait to show you everything," Luz smiles through her tears, hugging her mother tight. "Thank you so much for everything you've done for us. For wanting to come with us, fight alongside us and help protect the Isles."

"Through supernovas and solar winds," Camila says with a bright smile and a hearty wink, awed gasps echoing behind her as Gus and Hunter whisper, "Oh my Titan, The Astral Oath," emboldened by the reminder of their all-time favorite book series.

With a watery chuckle and a shaky breath, Luz lets go of her mother's embrace and turns to face the mouth of the cave, watching as bright golden sunlight glitters through the slivers in between the rock formation up ahead, igniting the bright blue swirls of Titan's blood in the shallow depths of the turquoise water.

"Ready?" she asks her companions, one hand clutching onto her mother's, the other onto Amity's, watching as Hunter does the same with Willow and Gus, Camila's other hand wrapping around Vee's so that all seven of them are linked as one.

Together, they step forward into the semi-darkness, wading through a shallow pool of Titan-blessed saltwater, through the portal back home.

• • •