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tennessoui · 3 months

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Hey I hope you're having a good day! I'm sure you've already got a handful of prompts but how about *shakes magic 8-ball* number 17, meeting at a party whilst drunk au!

hello thank you for sending this in!! i'm still working down my list of prompts, and this one is: meeting at a party whilst drunk

i took some liberties with the prompt here though, so really this is meeting (again after a long time) at a party whilst drunk

(2.8k) (gffa, anakin leaves the order after the war au)

Usually, Obi-Wan is better about this sort of thing. It is, after all, a matter of utmost importance. It’s a matter of survival.

Usually, when he receives an invitation to an event, he does not commit himself to going until he can complete some reconnaissance about the other guests invited. Until he knows beyond a reasonable doubt that Anakin Skywalker, ex-Jedi and current husband to Senator Amidala, will not be in attendance.

It is much better this way. For everyone involved, really, but especially for Obi-Wan and his poor fool’s heart. It is much better if they keep an entire planet between themselves these days—preferably multiple planets. Preferably half a galaxy.

But this is a retirement party for Bail, and Obi-Wan cannot miss it. His old friend deserves better than that, better than Obi-Wan’s cowardice getting in the way of a celebration of his decades-long career in the Senate.

So he accepts the invitation without researching the guest list. He thinks—he hopes—that in the past nine years, Anakin Skywalker’s intense dislike of Bail Organa has not waned. Anakin, when Obi-Wan knew him, when he was Obi-Wan’s—Obi-Wan’s padawan—had a tendency to make a snap judgement about someone and never change his opinion.

His hatred had been like an impenetrable wall, unchanging and immovable.

His love had ebbed and flowed, drowned out by his anger or his irritation, coming in great waves when he was in a fine mood and resembling a desert’s drought when he was upset.

But his hatred had always been unshakable once assigned. The very first time Obi-Wan saw it in Anakin’s eyes when he looked at him, a year after he left the Order and the last time they'd seen each other, he’d known for a fact that he’d lost him. That the love had dried up and gone and that it would never return. It’d felt like watching Anakin leave the Temple all over again, like a hand clenched around his heart squeezing and squeezing and squeezing.

So he hopes that Anakin has chosen not to attend Bail’s retirement party. Oh, he knows that Anakin’s wife is here, and he has already downed two flutes of sparkling wine to prepare himself for the sight of her looking resplendent across the ballroom, but he hopes that Anakin has chosen to stay home instead of wasting an evening fawning over a man he never liked in the first place.

Besides, someone should look after the children. They’re nine now, Obi-Wan knows. If they are anything like Anakin was at that age, they must need constant supervision. And he has already seen Senator Amidala once tonight from afar, knows that she is here amongst the party-goers.

He tightens his grip on his fourth flute of wine and turns his attention back to his conversation partner.

It is rather rude to be so preoccupied in the midst of a conversation with another, but Obi-Wan is an old man now and a war hero. He’s allowed to get away with much more these days than he could in the past.

“Yes, I admit the Jedi Order still has far to go in order to rebuild itself,” he says, mind torn between the small talk and the drink in his hand. These sorts of conversations are easy to have. Yes, the war took a lot out of the Jedi Order. Yes, we are still working through the damages and the trauma. Yes, it’s been ten years since, but sometimes it feels as if it was only yesterday. Yes, sometimes it feels as if I am still fighting.

And then—

Then the woman he is talking to grows bold. She rests her hand on his forearm, the one that is holding the flute of wine, and steps closer.

And in the Force, there is a rumbling of pure, visceral hatred, the sort Obi-Wan has only ever felt in the air a few times.

The sort that is achingly, distressingly familiar.

He turns his head, even though he knows he should not look. He knows looking will take him out at the knees. He knows he may never recover if he looks.

He turns his head and he looks anyway. There, across the room, standing to the left of a load bearing pillar is the drawn and furious face of Anakin Skywalker, ex-Jedi, ex-padawan.

Obi-Wan’s first thought is that he looks older, though he realizes a moment later how absolutely inane that is. Of course he looks older. It has been nine years since he really talked to him, eight years since he last saw him, and he has tried to avoid any news or photos about the man at all. In his mind, he is still as he was in those days and months following the end of the war. But logically, he knows that the time has passed, that not even the Chosen One is immune to aging.

Anakin’s hair is streaked with shoots of silver. It’s short now, cropped close to his head though still curling as much as he lets it. His face is worn, wrinkled in different, unfamiliar places. He is wearing finery befitting that of a senator’s husband, the color of a midnight sky.

It is strangely comforting to see him dressed in the same colors he has worn since he was a youngling in Obi-Wan’s care. If he were wearing white or, or green or pink, then Obi-Wan isn’t sure he’d be able to recognize him at all.

“Are you quite alright, Master Kenobi?” the woman asks, words filtering in through the static noise in Obi-Wan’s head.

No. Of course he is not alright.

Yes. He is better than alright. He feels as if his head has broken the surface of the water he’s been trapped under for the past nine years. He feels as if the sight of Anakin Skywalker is a sip of water when he’s on the brink of dehydration.

“You know actually I am not sure,” he tells her, which is overly personal and not at all what he’d meant to say. But that is what the sight of Anakin Skywalker does these days. It throws him off, makes him loose-tongued and off-centered.

Fuck, he thinks once, viciously.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he tells her, carefully separating himself from her touch and taking a step away. She looks disappointed almost immediately, and Obi-Wan should care about the image he’s making, how impolite he is being, but he has bigger concerns right now.

Anakin Skywalker is here.

“Enjoy your evening,” he adds as he raises his flute of wine to his lips and drains it in one go. “Unfortunately, I’m going to go get incredibly drunk.”

“Uh,” the woman says, but Obi-Wan is already gone. He can’t—he can’t stay. Not in this room, not under the weight of Anakin Skywalker’s stare.

Thank the Force he started the night by giving his congratulations and warm regard to Bail. If things turn sour, he’ll be able to slip away with only minimal rudeness.

And, if he’s being quite honest, things have already soured beyond the point of salvation.

But instead of leaving—instead of slipping out the room and running back to the Temple, tail between his legs, he stays. Inexplicably, he grabs another flute of wine from a passing server and retreats to a balcony.

Fresh air will sober him up, he thinks, even as he downs half the flute.

He should leave, he thinks, even as he stays.

He should leave—but he cannot bring himself to. Anakin is here and it’s Obi-Wan’s worst nightmare and it’s the only thing he’s desired for the past nine years.

Barely a minute passes before the balcony door opens behind him. Obi-Wan keeps his eyes pinned to the city-scape around them.

“Occupied,” he says, even though he knows who it is. Even though he knows the word is useless. Anakin will not leave until he wants to.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin says. Just his name, just three syllables.

Obi-Wan downs the rest of the flute. “Anakin,” he says, closing his eyes for a moment to gather himself before he turns to look at him.

Oh, he wishes he could blame the alcohol for how beautiful he finds him, but he knows that’s just some dark and twisted part of himself, some sinful and perverted aspect of his soul he has never been able to scrub clean.

“How are you?” He says, because he cannot let Anakin speak first. If he lets Anakin speak first, there will be a diplomatic incident, surely. If he lets Anakin speak first, Anakin will control the conversation—Anakin will tear through all of his shields and land on his sorest, most vulnerable spots. “How are the children?” “Do you even know their names?” Anakin spits back, eyebrows drawn dark and heavy over his expression. His face is flushed. He must have been drinking as well. “How old they are? Do not ask after my children as if you care about them at all, Obi-Wan—I know you don’t!”

“Luke,” Obi-Wan says. “Leia.”

Oh, he wishes Anakin were right. He wishes he didn’t know a damn thing about them, about him, about the life he lives now. One completely separate and void of Obi-Wan.

Anakin probably does not notice his absence. After all, he has a wife, two children. A part-time job, if Bail can be believed. He wonders if he still meditates facing the wrong way, back to the sun, and suddenly his heart feels so tight he can hardly breathe through the pain.

Anakin sneers. “Whatever,” he says and reaches into the folds of his robes to pull out a silver flask. He raises it to his lips and takes a swig, rubbing a hand over his mouth when he’s done, capping it and sliding back into his robes.

It is the alcohol that loosens his tongue, Obi-Wan knows it. Obi-Wan understands that he has had too much to drink tonight to be standing before Anakin Skywalker now, that anything that comes out of his mouth will be something he regrets in the morning.

But does it really matter? How could it matter? Anakin Skywalker was his whole life for a decade and a few years, and then he left. And now a decade has passed. In five years, he will have spent longer missing him than he spent loving him. What does a few words matter now?

Obi-Wan has already lost everything. He is already made of regret.

“I don’t know why you insist on acting so hatefully,” he says. “You left.”

He means, of course, that if anyone should hate anyone here, it is Obi-Wan’s right to hate Anakin.

Impossible, as it were, but his right. Anakin left.

Obi-Wan asked him to stay.

“You kissed me,” Anakin spits back.

And yes, alright. He kissed him as well.

His fingers itch for another flute of wine. Perhaps a swallow of the flask in Anakin’s robes. Anything. Anything to dull the white-hot ache of this conversation. Anything to escape these consequences.

“Nine years ago,” he says, quietly. “It’s been nine years, Anakin.”

Let it go.

He hadn’t—he really hadn’t meant to kiss him. It had been—a foolish mistake, something that had happened late at night, a few months after the end of the war, and they had been in Obi-Wan’s quarters, drinking and talking and Anakin had said something about leaving the Order, and Obi-Wan had said something about him staying, and Anakin had said, Padmé is pregnant, and Obi-Wan—Obi-Wan had kissed him.

A foolish mistake, made only survivable by the way that, for a handful of precious seconds, Anakin had kissed him back.

Before the yelling, the hatred, the anger. The leaving. Before all of that, Anakin had kissed him back.

“I have already apologized, Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispers, exhausted, and his eyes cut away from Anakin, turn back to the city. “I have thought of that moment countless times–-and I cannot begin to explain what came over me, what I was thinking at the time.”

He just—he hadn’t wanted Anakin to leave. Had thought that perhaps if he could—if he could give Anakin himself in all the ways one person could devote themselves to another, then maybe it would be enough. Maybe he would stay.

A foolish hope, one that Obi-Wan should have known better than to entertain even for a moment.

“I have thought of it too,” Anakin says. He clears his throat. He lurches forward, unsteady on his feet. His hand comes into contact with Obi-Wan’s arm, glove on sleeve. Thank the Force for the layers still in between them.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan murmurs, and the truth is that he means it as much as he does not. He is sorry for taking the brotherhood and friendship between them and shattering it. He is sorry that he kissed Anakin, that he hastened his leave.

But he is not sorry for knowing how his lips felt against his own. How he tasted.

Obi-Wan is a lonely old man, despite the family he has surrounded himself with at the Temple. Despite his new padawan that he has been training for the past eight years. Despite the trips he takes to see his retired men, Cody and the 212th scattered across the galaxy. Despite all the ways he fills his days, all the people he meets and talks to and trains with, he is still lonely. There is still a hole in his heart, a space that Anakin used to occupy.

“I have thought of it every day since,” Anakin says, repeating himself in that way drunkards do when they have forgotten they already started the same sentence a moment before.

“I’m—”

“It has haunted me,” Anakin says. His voice is sharp and angry and Obi-Wan wants to close his eyes and shy away from it. Obi-Wan, who has faced down Separatists and sith lords and blaster fire, wants to turn tail and hide. Retreat. Retreat.

Anakin’s voice turns—darker, wilder. His hand tightens and he tugs, just hard enough that it overbalances Obi-Wan. “I am haunted by the kiss you never should have given me.”

“Had I known you were married, I never would have—”

“You ruined it,” Anakin snaps. “You ruined my marriage!”

“I…” Obi-Wan’s throat clicks, words drying out. “What?”

“We filed for separation months ago,” Anakin says. His eyes are dark; he is holding his arm so tightly that it hurts. “Joint custody of the children, but a formal divorce. Amicable.”

Obi-Wan…Obi-Wan doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know if he can speak at all.

“It wouldn’t have been amicable if she knew though,” Anakin says. He takes a step forward. Obi-Wan gives ground. He does not know how else to fight Anakin. “If she knew what I thought about when I retreated from her touch. If she knew what—who—drove me from our bed every night to walk through our house like a ghost wandering the halls.”

“If your marriage ended over a kiss I gave you nine years ago, then it is hardly my fault,” Obi-Wan says, putting his hand on Anakin’s chest to keep distance between them. When did they become so close? This is much too close. Obi-Wan can smell Anakin’s soap, his sweat. The alcohol on his breath.

“But it is,” Anakin insists, unable still it seems to take his share of the blame and make his peace with it. “It is, because I spent half my life in love with you, then I finally commit to someone else—allow myself to look and love and appreciate someone else’s beauty—and then you kiss me, as if I have not already sworn loyalty to another! As if I could be yours to kiss! As if I still was!”

Obi-Wan shakes his head, unable to do more. “It was a kiss, Anakin, it was—I assure you, I am not such a good kisser that I can be blamed for your failed marriage when it was nine years ago!”

“Then you do not remember it as well as I do,” Anakin murmurs, and now—now the rage has turned darker, heady. His eyes catch and hold onto Obi-Wan’s lips. His eyes are more black than blue. His face is flushed. He is—so handsome. So beautiful still, after all of these years. “Let me refresh your memory,” he says, and Obi-Wan—

Obi-Wan is weak when it comes to Anakin. He always has been. He is so weak. And he needs—he needs so much. He makes a sound, something embarrassingly small and desperate, and then Anakin is kissing him and it feels like being sliced open and like coming home, all at the same time.

Like how it felt when he returned to the quarters he shared with Qui-Gon after his master had died—a homecoming, but at what cost? A death and a birth, all at the same time. He had lingered in the doorway that first time, unable to push himself across and into quarters that felt both strange and familiar.

It had been Anakin, a small boy still, who had grabbed him by the hand and pulled him inside.

Still now, even all these years later, Obi-Wan closes his eyes and allows himself to follow Anakin’s lead.

#asks #prompt fill #obikin #angstyyyyy #in my mind they kissed nine years ago and anakin left the order like basically the next day #and then they saw each other rouhgly a year later #and it was tense but not like quite so hatefilled #and then anakin finds out obi-wan got a new padawan and that steps on like ten thousand issues #aided by the distance theyre both trying to put between them then #and so anakin falls back on hatred and obi-wan falls back on trying his best to ignore the problem #by ignoring anakin #because after all #anakin left. obi-wan asked him to stay. and anakin made his decision #obi-wan is just respecting it

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mistyfoxxy · 2 years

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Based on @snoozu possessed Willow art! This is a very angsty oneshot!

Willow leaned down and placed a quick kiss on Hunter’s lips. It was spontaneous. Rambunctious. Risky. It just kind of happened. It had shocked both of them to the point of standing there in shock. Staring into each others eyes. Silently asking if that was ok. If they could do that again.

So they did.

What they didn’t know, was Belos was hating every second of this. From the moment this grimwalker‘s galderstone picked up pace at the sight of that good for nothing witch, he felt the pain all over again. Caleb was helping this witch. Smiling at this witch. Working on some wired artifact to fix her clothes up when she should be wearing garbage. And then what? She kissed him! She-

Oh. Oh? He had a plan. Different from what he originally had in mind. But this would be better. He’d just have to show Caleb just how despicable witches truly are.

Willow scratches the back of her neck irritably. She had tried to readjust the collar. Cut out the tag. Move her hair. Nothing. She didn’t see any marks or anything on her neck. She frowned in the mirror. She shook her head and replaced it with a smile. Well at least she looked good.

Ok Willow. It’s Halloween. Tonight’s the night we tell Luz about the scroll. We get to experience probably our last human culture thing before going home. Get to take more pictures. And… hang out with Hunter.

“Ah!” Willow grasped the side of her head in pain and nearly tumbled into the door. She grabbed the handle just in time to stop the fall but the pain still pierced.

No Hunter! A voice seemed to yell at her. A familiar, very eerie voice. She glanced back up at the mirror, her blood turned cold. What in titans name?She saw herself. Which was fine. What wasn’t was the figure of the monster they had fought all those months ago, the one they thought was gone. He growled. “No!”

She quickly whipped around to face him, Clover forming out of hyperspace and took her stance. Only to be faced with nothing but the feel of goop along her hand.

“Alright kids, it’s time to go!” Camila called.

Willow turned back towards the mirror and noticed nothing there. She gulped and quickly washed her hands, grateful the figure was gone. Is this what Luz meant about spirits and stuff on Halloween? She hasn’t expected that. Even if it was some kind of human plane figment or illusion of the old emperor.

She walked out the bathroom and trotted up next to her favorite blonde. They entered the car and took their places.

The kids chatted about the human delicacy and pranks and stuff they’d like to get or do. Luz seemed only a little off. Amity was happy. Gus excited. Hunter… he was there too.

And Willow was very tempted to take his hand, subtly of course, didn’t need the rest of them saying or teasing them tonight. But something was stopping her and she didn’t know what. Nerves maybe?

Hunter turned ever so subtly towards her and smiled softly. Eyes crinkled at the edge and his face slowly turned redder.

She wanted to smile back. She felt herself try. But. Something- she felt herself heating up. Burning almost I’m her arm and hands. “Titan is it just me or is it hot in here?”

“Oh sorry baby, I can turn the AC up if you want?”

”Please.”

”Are you ok?” Hunter asked, concern layered thick in his voice.

Willow turned away from Hunter and nodded. She didn’t know how or why but she knew he was the reason she was feeling this way. Something practically screamed at her that he was off limits. Clover buzzed uncomfortably, noting her owners stress.

Flapjack seemed to pick up on it too. Chirping worriedly. “What is it, Flap?” The grimwalker asked.

Grimwalker? Grimwalker?? What the-

“Alright. I’ll be back to pick y’all up at 9 ok?”

“Yes mama. Please help Vee with the trick or treaters, they can get a bit out of hand.”

”Of course. Love y’all.”

Willow felt like her head was going to explode. The whole time this person talked about the “Wittebane” brothers all she could think about was Hunter. But as… Caleb? Something wasn’t right. Something wasn’t adding up. And why the heck is she putting two and two together?? She glanced over at the blonde and frowned. He looked fearful, confused, hurt even? Serves him right.

“Sounds to me big bro got a hot witch girlfriend and lil bro got upset.” They shrugged.

“Not true!” She hollered. She immediately clamped her hands over her mouth and flushed. Oh my titan. “I mean. Maybe he really was trying to… help him?”

She looked at the others, who all knew Belos was far from ‘helping’ someone, they looked confused. She was confused by the outburst.

“Hmm maybe. Who knows. Everyone has their own perspective of what’s right or wrong, doesn’t necessarily make it true though” They stated nonchalantly.

“Yeah.”

Willow shook her head and rubbed her eyes. She then exited the ride behind the others. Gus stopped her. “Hey Willow? Is everything ok? You’ve been acting… strange today.”

“Strange? Huh. I didn’t notice. I’m too distracted by that corny outfit of yours.”

Gus gasped and frowned. He narrowed his eyes and looked at her as if trying to read her. “Well whatever it is, you might want to pay attention to. Cause this isn’t the Willow I know.”

Willow then watching the boy walk away. Unaware of… really anything. Her only thoughts were of Cale- Hunter. He’s Hunter.

”Don’t call him that!”

Willow jerked her head towards the woods and met blue glowing eyes. Oh titan. Was that…

She quickly looked towards their makeshift group of friends and spotted the human. Perfect! She’d helped before- right?

She ran up and grabbed her by the shoulder, “Sorry Amity, I promise I’ll give her right back, I just need for for ooone second.”

Amity gave a confused look but nodded.

Willow dragged the human off and out of hearing distance. “Ok this is gonna sound crazy but. I think Belos is here!” She whispered shouted.

Luzs eyes widened and she looked around. “Hunter said the same thing last night. Are you sure? I thought he was just. Well dealing with things but if you saw Belos too-“

”Exactly! He’s here. Oh titan. But what would he want? The titan blood? Oh. Yes! That must be it!”

”Titan blood? In Connecticut? I don’t think so.”

”What no! It’s true. Flapjack found an old map of sorts of old gravesfield! And it leads to titan blood. We just need to get that rebus. Clover.” Clover came out of Willows hood and buzzed uncomfortably. Willow narrowed her eyes. “Get. The . Rebus!” She growled.

”Woah now. That was a bit much don’t you think?” Luz stated.

“I- I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Titan let’s just get this-“

”This wayyyy” Belos taunted.

“You!” Willow then took off after the villain. She could hear his taunting as if he were right next to her. But she knew that wasn’t the case. She jumped onto her staff as soon as she felt was far away enough no one saw and flew after him. Carefully watching where she was going while looking at the map. And soon enough, she was there. It was… a graveside. But full of water. One Little isle on the middle with a great tomb on it and a large archway. The fog made it even harder to see but she flew over to the small piece of land.

She kept her battle stance up as she hollered out. “I know you’re there! And you’re crazy if you think we’ll let you just hurt anyone. You’re not getting your hands on that blood either. What are you doing here?”

”You really wanna know?” He purred sardonically.

She gasped as she was then face to face with the killer.

“Finishing you witches off, starting with you.”

”Willow! Oh. There you are! You had me worried for a second running off like that.” Luz laughed in relief. She then crossed a frozen bridge she had made and walked towards the girl.

She stood there in silence. Hidden behind the shadows and fog Luz could barely make her out. “Did.. you find anything?” Something felt wrong.

“Oh. Nothing yet. Just keep looking I suppose.”

“Ok. Good idea. I think it’s close you know. The glyphs are stronger over here.”

A shadow then fell in front of Luz. Something eerie told the human to run. But she couldn’t. She was frozen in place. Luz slowly turned around, her heart dropped in fear when she met the glowing turquoise eyes of her friend.

But it wasnt her friend.

Where the girl had once wore fake little devil horns, thick real green ones were in their stead. Dark green goop like substance stretched down between her eyes and across her cheeks. Down her neck. Her hands. Only her hands were claws now. Gripping her lifeless staff. The cute little ‘W’ Hunter had seen in the night before was torn and hanging now. “Hello Luzara!” The familiar voice greeted excitedly.

“Be-Belos?”

“Hehe always the smart one! You’re glyphs are working aren’t they? Which means it’s here somewhere. Looks like I have no need for you though!” The possessed witch then flung a clawed hand at her, giving the human only seconds to dodge it before cries of ‘Willow’ and ‘Luz’ was heard from a distance.

The human then grabbed some glyphs and attacked the assailant. Willow was strong. She knew she wouldn’t hurt her. But how the heck do you fight someone that possessed without fighting the victim?

Belos could easily see that. Cunning bastard.

“Oh Luz. Not even trynna hurt me? You must care about this witch.” He seethed as of the very word was offensive to him. “Always wanting to help people aren’t you? Just like you helped me meet the collector!” He laughed maniacally.

“No! I didn’t know!”

“No no don’t worry! You did a good job! I’m gonna save a lot of people this way. This particular witch has a strong connection to the titan and the isles itself! I can finish them all easily now!”

“No!” A voice cried. Hunter stood to the side. Eyes wide in disbelief at the sight of his crush. Belos stood where she should’ve been standing. “You bastard!”

Belos frowned. “So ungrateful.”

Hunter pulled out his staff and teleported in front of Luz. Gaining a battle stance. So many mixed emotions. So much pain. Fear, hurt, guilt, for the girl. Anger, confusion, and having enough of the old emperor.

“Let her go!” He cried.

“Don’t you get it, Caleb? The power that this witch holds should be enough! She’s no god! She should be dead!”

”You should be dead!” The cotton candy haired girl called out as she went in for an attack.

Belos was quick to dodge it before other attacks were blown off. Vines erupted the ground and grabbed Hunter in particular, pinning him against the grave. Gus then flew around.

Eyes glowing blue in anger. “Let her go!” His own strategy was different from the others. Get in her mind. Free her. Don’t hurt her.

Amity created a large mud abomination to try and hold the witch down. Luz drew a bunch of glyphs.

Vee stepped up. “I’m sorry Willow, please hang in there!” Before using her own powers to try to suck his magic out of her. Willow had been there for her. Vee wanted to do the same, even if it meant facing her old torturer.

“Enough!” Belos growled, throwing them all away with a single burst of energy. He then scooped his hand through the ground and pulled out a small tube. Titans blood.

Flapjack flew to Luz quickly, not able to free her own witch. She tweeted in panic. Luz grabbed the staff and teleported behind the witch. “Willow this isn’t you! Please snap out of it!”

“Willow please!” Hunter cried out. Struggling against the vines.

The girl froze for a mere second before growling and throwing the human off her. “No!” Sending the main flying towards the lake and the tube rolling over next to Hunter.

’tweet tweet tweet tweet!’ Flapjack. Poor precious little flapjack tweeted mercilessly against against Hunters vines. Trying to free him as Belos made his way up to him.

Belos smirked gleefully. Snatching the bird out of thin air. “Let me prove to you how wicked witches truly are!”

Belos clamped his claws shut around the palisman. Letting the vines fall from Hunter. Flap let out a painful chirp.

Hunter stared up and pure shock. Tears pouring out his eyes now. He squeaked out a weak heart wrenching, “Flapjack?”

“No!” The possessed witch then grabbed her face angrily and turned away. Grabbing her arm and releasing the small red bird. “No!” She screamed out again. Eyes reverting to a green again as she met the magenta eyes of the boy she loved. They then started glowing green, a deep green as she walked towards the lake. “You bastard.” She seethed.

“No he doesn’t want you! Don’t you get that!” She cried as she grabbed the sides of her head. “Stop trying to ruin his life and let him be happy!”

Everyone watching could see her internal struggle. Hunter fell to his knees and scooped the heavily breathing bird in his hands. “She’s right. Belos.” He whispered.

The possessed girl went still. Slightly looking over her shoulder at the boy. At Caleb.

“You know what I do want?” He said louder. Scooping the container of titan blood into his hand, holding flapjack to his chest in the other. “I want to never step foot in that throne room again. Quit working for the emperor. I want to learn how to carve palismen and go to school and learn magic. I want to play flyer derby with my friends and do whatever the heck makes ME happy! But most of all…” he trailed off. Walking past the witch towards the lake. “I want to make sure you never hurt anyone again!”

The golden headed boy then threw the only thing keeping Belos rooted to gravity in the deep water. Green eyes turned blue. “Noo!” She then jumped in.

Hunter gasped. Ready to take off after her before Camila jumped in head first.

They ran to the edge of the bridge where Camila pulled the girl out of the water. Hunter was the first to get there, pulling willow into his lap.

All of a sudden the goop left her in a frenzy and Belos took form again. “How could you stab me in the back for them Caleb!”

“You did it first!” Luz snapped back.

Belos then grabbed to tube and ran towards the cemetery. Smashing it against the archway. A portal then formed and Belos last words before he went through was, “I’ll save you.”

Camila freaked over the fact that that was who they had been fighting while Hunter shook the lifeless girl in his hands. “Guys…”

They looked towards him. Noting the girls new scars and pale face. Clover then woke up and immediately buzzed furiously. She kept budding the sides of her owners face. Clearly distraught.

“She isn’t moving.” Hunter cried.

Amity and Gus gasped, tears forming the brim of their eyes. Gus collapsed to the ground beside them. Hunter shook his head, tears falling now.

“Vee call a doctor!” Camila called.

”Do they know about possession?” Hunter whimpered out.

”I-“

Flapjack emerged now. Slowly but surely. Nuzzling his owners face quickly, softly. She tweeted something only Hunter understood. ‘I save her. I save both of us. Then you never be alone again’

“What?” His voice broke. Confusion thick in his voice.

The red bird then layed down on the girls chest. The bird smiled up at her owner one last time. ‘I’ll always be here. Right here my boy.’

Hunter nodded, still confused as the bird then layed down. Then she started glowing. Breaking apart into bundles of light.

“Flapjack!”

Everyone looked on in awe. The beautiful light surrounding them. Before settling to nothing.

Willow stirred. When her eyes opened up, one was golden brown, one was her same green. She looked up at the faces of the ones surrounding her before tilting her head back to meet Hunters magenta eyes.

She quickly jerked up and tumbled over, Camila caught her and steadied her. “Baby no! Careful!”

Willow met the boys eyes and shook her head. Tears falling down her face. “I’m so sorry.” She croaked out.

Hunter lunched forward and pulled the girl to his chest. “No. It’s ok. I promise.”

“I’m so- so sorry!” She cried out now. Loud sobs pierced the night. Gus quickly joined the hug and cried too.

“It’s ok. I promise Willow. It’s ok. It’s ok.”

#Huntlow #oneshot #huntlow onshot #My stuff #angstyyyyy #Possessed willow #Willow park #hunter noceda #the owl house

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