Pretending Not to See Your Ghost

by Drabbles_Of_Writing

Summary:

Darius has begun to notice a few...𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴 between Hunter and his old mentor. From appearance, to speech, to the smallest of characteristics, he always swears he'll blink, and his mentor will be standing right where Hunter once was, as though nothing had ever changed.

But he's sure it's only a coincidence.

Notes:

the rat has taken this show from us before the mentor plot thread could be followed. good thing I'm here to go insane about it

Chapter 1: when it started

“Got that all out of your system yet?”

Darius let out a long, loud hiss.

“Taking that as a no, then.”

“Would you just be quiet?” He snapped, not even bothering to spare a glance back. It wasn’t worthy of a glare, even if the sight of the carnage in front of him made his chest twist. 

It was only a tiny piece of the Night Market. No one would care for all the shops that lay in ruin, the potions strewn about, the spilled seeds of old plants. They weren’t worth the ugly gnarl in his gut. They weren’t worth the guilt. They were made by criminals, after all.

Criminals who lay in bindings, just against the nearby building. He suspected they wouldn’t wake up anytime soon.

“Afraid not.” Said the jackass, yet again. “You don’t pay me to be quiet. Well, not that I’m really paid to begin with, but…hm, no, let me rephrase that. You didn’t hire me to be—”

“Let me rephrase,” Darius grit his teeth, clenching his hands up into tighter fists, shoulders hunching, “I am telling you to be silent.”

“I also can’t abide by that.” He continued anyway, voice entirely calm, entirely careless, and Darius could already see the strands of scattered abomination goop inching across the floor. Crawling out from cracks, reaching up towards his fists. “I don’t take orders from you. And even if I did, do you really think I’d listen? I mean, barring everything else, even you can’t seem to listen to orders, which is not a very good example to set. Believe me, I speak from experience.” He said, and it was a damn taunt, that’s what it was, and suddenly Darius didn’t care so much about his fear of witches coming to investigate the disaster around them. “Why, I have this apprentice who I think saw me skimp out on a few orders, maybe even ignore a few. Now, he’s running around thinking he can do whatever he wants, and that’s not very beneficial for—”

“Just shut up!” Darius snarled, curling in his throat and hurting with the force, from the amount of shouting he’d done before now, whirling, blinding hot fury making his skin hot and movements jerk. There was a wall of purple and black, a roar created from the goo at his fingertips, unyielding and—

A blip, the smallest kind. A blur of reddish magic, an abomination crashing down right where a body had been, moments before. The ground caved in where the witch had been moments before, abomination howling.

Darius saw the blur at the edge of his vision. Much too close, the flutter of a white cape in the wind, just behind his back.

Darius spun, fangs bared in a blinded growl, feeling the encasing of an abomination around his fist, and, partially on impulse, partially just to feel something break, swung as hard as he could.

It didn’t connect with the mask facing him. No, instead, it stepped aside, easily missing where Darius’s fist would have connected. In its place, a staff rose, knocking gently against the side of Darius’s wrist, some mock at a parry.

Under normal circumstances, Darius would have found the lack of a quip slightly alarming. Now, though, he just hissed, much more spitting-like than usual, abomination curling around his other fist, swinging just as wildly.

Again, another step to the side, staff moving away. It twirled in one hand, drawing down before the end of it shot up, catching Darius’s wrist between the two sharp spikes at the end, clinging tight.

“I don’t want to hear it!” Darius barked, yanking back with all his might and trying to wildly punch with his other hand, which didn’t much work, seeing as he had to try and punch over his caught arm, his adversary apparently making sure his wrist was stuck tight. “I don’t want yo–your stupid jokes or-or a bloody I told you so!”

The staff raised higher, jerking Darius forward with it. He stumbled, coming closer, more face-to-face with that golden mask. It stared impassively back at him, the owner keeping his arm high above as he looked down.

“Alright, then.” Said the Golden Guard, casual as can be. “I won’t.”

He knew what was expected of him here, held in a state of tense silence. He knew how it had gone, all those other times, when a stern look was leveled his way, when he’d made one too many mistakes. A harsh flick of the wrist, a tightening grip on a staff. 

He never knew what would’ve happened if he didn’t stop. He just knew that, on instinct, he’d always halted whatever he’d been doing. Any and all abominations fell to the ground and out of sight, put away before he could find out just what the punishment would be.

The Golden Guard was not someone you tested the odds with. Darius had never been stupid enough to try. He knew he’d lose.

That was the Darius from back then, though, who knew much less, and who was even less furious. That was the Darius who had a healthy dose of fear for the Golden Guard.

He hadn’t feared the Golden Guard in a long while. Not by a healthy amount, at least.

So, Darius swallowed, then forced his eyes away from where he was staring at his caught wrist. He shifted it to the mask staring straight at him, forcing everything into his glare, into his fists curling tighter, tiny spikes pricking up along the knuckles.

He lifted his head, just a little bit. A challenge.

A stupid challenge, really. One he’d regret, he was sure, but that was a problem for future Darius.

If there'd be a Darius in the future, that is. 

The Golden Guard held his gaze. Silent, and unmoving, save for the tiniest twitch of an ear that disturbed his hood, the only giveaway to how many thoughts were in that head of his.

Then, one hand left his staff. That hand raised, high above, and Darius watched. He looked up, saw it stop, knew when it’d come down. Only then, did he shut his eyes, shoulders hunching, and—

The hand lightly tapped over his head.

Darius blinked.

The Golden Guard snorted. 

“You’re pretty damn impressive, kid.” He said, and Darius jerked his head up, looking at the hand placed at an angle over his head, not even ruffling his hair. “I take it that’s what you’d rather hear, yeah?”

Darius kept staring. The Golden Guard stared back.

“...what?” Darius got out.

“Hmm, yeah, I worded that wrong.” The Golden Guard hummed, head tilting slightly. “I mean, you are impressive, regardless of if you wanna hear it? Does that work? I dunno, but I’m not telling you that you’ve got ‘spunk’ or something.” He huffed, arm slowly falling back down to his side. “I’m not fifty-five.”

“What.” Darius repeated, for lack of anything else to say.

“Integrity, I think? That sounds like the right word here.” The Golden Guard tried to clarify, drawing his staff down, looking from Darius’s fist, then to his face. “Am I gonna get my lights knocked out?”

Slowly, very slowly, Darius shook his head.

“Wonderful,” The Golden Guard said cheerfully, snagging Darius’s sleeve, “hold still.”

With that, the Golden Guard yanked his staff away.

“Hey!” Darius yelped, feeling a spike of pain all through his wrist, coming to the realization he had gotten truly stuck in the spikes—and maybe it was a mix of the yanking, or Darius leaping back with all his might—but his wrist managed to pop free with another harsh twist.

“There we go!” The Golden Guard chirped, turning his staff over and inspecting it as Darius stumbled back, cradling his wrist. “Like nothing ever happened. Now then,” He said, still cheerful, spinning right on his heel, “we have your mess to pick up after. Which is a rather impressive mess.” He continued, oblivious to Darius’s wide eyes. “I think I’ll take credit for teaching you that—”

“Is that it?” Darius wound up blurting, and the Golden Guard paused.

It was a tense one, for just a moment, and Darius was stiffening up before the Golden Guard turned around, head tilting, body as lax as ever.

“Well, I’m gonna have to put you on errand-boy missions, if even that, for the next, oh, month or so.” He said, calm as ever. “But I’m happy to say that I’m pretty terrible at going through with normal punishments in this Coven. This kind of scolding will suffice, right?”

“I…” Darius stared, blinking slowly. “Jasper, you can’t be serious.”

“Well, you said you didn’t want to hear ‘I told you so.’” The Golden Guard shrugged, head tilting down slightly, enunciating where his eyes had fallen, and Darius glanced to see abominations were still around his fists. “And getting into a fistfight with my apprentice is typically poor form. So, I’ll go out on a limb here and say you weren’t being stupid on purpose.”

“It was a thought-out plan.” Darius grumbled, though he did slowly force away the goop. “And it was going just fine until you got here.”

“Mmm, sure it was.” The Golden Guard hummed, head slowly turning to take in the mess around them. “Fantastic, even. No, of course, we had to disobey orders for this. A very worthwhile endeavor, I must say—”

“This is a very basic drug-runner mission!” Darius snapped, gesturing with a hand to the tied up witches. “Something I can more than handle.”

“Like you did today.”

“It was working until you showed up like you always do!” Darius hissed, ears flattening back. “I was doing just fine in this Coven on my own, you know. I was picked from the best.” He took a step forward, glaring up at an uncaring mask. “I’m not a damn scout. I’m more than equipped for a proper mission, which I could show you, if you would quit running off!”

The Golden Guard stared down at him impassively. Darius had the urge to shrink back, like he always did. Instead, he forced his glare into something meaner, lip twitching over a fang.

Then, another snort. Darius almost barked a retort before the Golden Guard looked around, checking the perimeter. At nothing appearing in his line of sight, he lifted his hands to the bottom of his mask.

He pushed it up, and Darius saw a smiling, scarred face. One day, it’d look even worse than it already was. Right now, though, Darius still thought it was concerning just how many scars the boy had. He wasn’t that much older than him.

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?” Jasper puffed, though there was a teasing edge to it. 

Darius stared, blinked a few times. His glare lessened, and he took a small step back.

“I’m better than this.” Darius forced himself to say, glancing out to the wreckage. “Well—better than sitting out missions all the time.” He insisted.

“Yeah,” Jasper also looked around, “yeah, alright, I see your point.”

Darius straightened, and Jasper’s grin just widened, exposing each and every tooth. They were just a bit too crooked, and if you squinted, his left canine looked just a bit longer than his right.

“Don’t go getting a big head,” Jasper warned right after, eyes sliding to the side, and Darius was always just a little unnerved by them. They didn’t look like a witch’s, not quite a demon’s, and he’d never seen anyone with that unnatural shade of magenta, “but…hey, you sure made your opinion loud and clear.” He chuckled, ears twitching down slightly. “I swear, kid, one of these days, I’m not gonna know what the hell I’m supposed to do with you.”

It came off as a joke. And Darius puffed, very slightly, at his words. Jasper’s smile stayed, and he wanted to believe it as a tease. He wanted to, but it looked just a little too…soft. He dared call it genuine.

The Golden Guard wasn’t genuine. When was that ever even a possibility?

But Jasper was…he was listening. That was a first, and it was one Darius took. Perhaps he got a little giddier than he should’ve been, that Jasper was looking at him, not over his head, but he thinks he more than deserved it.

“My,” Darius said, because he wasn’t sure what to do there, but he had to say something, “is the great Golden Guard admitting he was wrong?”

“You see what I mean about the big head?” Jasper scoffed, rolling his eyes and turning away, and Darius did snigger then, something that was almost a smile forming. “Honestly, I can't say one nice thing about people in this Coven, it makes them puff up like blimps.” He complained, sliding his mask back down.

“You’re part of this Coven.” Darius reminded, flexing his fingers to alleviate the shaking.

“Oh, hush,” Jasper grumbled, turning halfway, towards Darius stepping closer. He made a point to shoulder Darius’s side, nearly sending him toppling to the ground. The friendly gesture had him staring like a spooked rabbit, though Jasper hardly reacted, “you’re impressive for an apprentice. Remember that.”

“...course,” Darius cracked a real smile, then, finding he didn’t mind all that much, “of course, sir. Wouldn’t dream of thinking otherwise.”

“Eugh!” Jasper winced back, dramatic, making a gagging sound that had Darius fully giggling. “Kid, I told you about the ‘sir’ thing, never say that again—”

“Then don’t call me kid!” Darius huffed back, ears twitching, unable to hide his smile continuing to grow. “I’m barely younger than you.”

“You’re scarcely fifteen. It’s young enough.” Jasper waved his hand, turning away. “Tell you what, I stop calling you kid, and you don’t call me sir ever again. Sound fair?”

“Deal.” Darius nodded, looking out to the remains of this corner of the Night Market. “Do I have to help clean this up?”

“I’m tempted to say yes.” Jasper said, before he held out his staff, twirling it. “But I don’t want to clean this up. So let's skedaddle before someone makes us, huh?”

“And you wonder why I don’t listen to you.” Darius scoffed, and Jasper tilted his head, just a bit, a glance of his mask over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Jasper hummed, “guess I should work on that. But I’m sure you’ll make sure I don’t forget.”

“Never.” Darius grinned, a promise he barely had to think about.

And, despite the mask in the way, despite how Jasper didn’t so much as twitch, he had a feeling he was smiling back at him, too. 

 

---

 

Hunter flinched when Darius raised his hand.

That was the part that stuck in his mind. He didn’t let it seep into his features, managed to keep himself from even hesitating. He still followed through with his action, albeit much gentler than how it was originally, letting his hand gently fall over the boy’s head.

He grinned, then, at Hunter pausing, blinking up at him in surprise.

“I’m impressed.” He said, and he guessed it surprised himself as much as it surprised Hunter to know he was genuine.

Darius readily admitted he wasn’t much of a kid person. Too noisy and full of bad ideas for his liking. His patience only went so far, and so he never tried to put it in the same room as a child, let alone a teenager. There were many who’d be far better than him.

Hunter wasn’t exactly his proof of that, but…well, he’d been everything short of despising the kid from the moment he bore a mask he never once deserved.

Even then, he knew it was somewhat unfair. But it was so easy to sneer at the kid, to barely restrain a growl whenever he walked in, head up high, barking orders like he earned the right to so much as be in the same room as half the Emperor’s Coven.

He knew the kid wasn’t a slacker. But a nepotism hire was an easy way to erase any and all accomplishments done up till that point. He knew damn well that kid hadn’t done even close to enough to earn the title of the Golden Guard. 

So, he didn’t like Hunter. Not when he was fourteen and first wearing the mask, and it only slightly lessened as the years went on. Turned to a burr-like grievance rather than a bitter resentment at the audacity—

But here, this is where the kid impressed him. Because Hunter was many things. He was a loyal dog, he was a kiss-up, a tryhard, spoiled, and everything expected from the nephew of the Emperor. That is to say, in short; annoying.

He’d never call the kid a rebel. Not for anything, not towards his own uncle.

And yet, there was that palisman on his shoulder, and there were bruises all over Darius’s body where a staff had whacked him, and he knew that, if he went into the forest, he’d still find those Hexside students, saved by the very boy who put them in danger in the first place.

He supposed, then, that perhaps it wasn’t so out-there for Raine to find it unbelievable that he and Eberwolf were traitors. That they had been blindsided by the idea, when Darius himself was blindsided by a sixteen-year-old who couldn’t sew for the life of him.

Before his hand came down, resting over the kids head, he had one thought, and it made him twitch with something that was slightly bitter, something slightly wistful, and that was this: Jasper would’ve liked him.

Jasper had a soft spot for the rule-followers who could be changed. For the ones who were so uptight that came to unwind. Not for the ones who spit and kicked for their rebellion from the start, but the ones that had a slow change, the ones that always gave the strongest reactions to Jasper’s shenanigans. 

“Magic or not,” Darius said, and he tried not to let that old scar show in his expressions, “I think you’ll make your predecessors proud.”

This surprised him less, to know he was being honest. The rebellion part, that was easy. Jasper would’ve liked him for that alone. He always did, especially if that witch was, well, a massive pain in the ass. 

As a successor, that part was a little more complicated. He supposed Jasper would’ve been proud to see his rank was being filled with people who were still going behind the Emperor’s back. 

Hunter looked up at him, with, really, nothing short of shock. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, he supposed, something searching and flickering in his eyes, even as Darius tossed the old, raggedy cloak his way.

Hunter’s eyes were an odd shade of magenta, now that he was looking. Of all the witches to have Jasper’s rare eyes, of course it happened to be his successor.

It was another aching pang in Darius’s chest, but he smoothed it right back down. He’d had more than enough bittersweet reminders tonight, and now certainly wasn’t the time.

He had a Golden Guard to take home.

Notes:

title from the song Welly Boots by The Amazing Devil

Chapter 2: palismen

Notes:

bit of a short chapter, I know, but I got a backlog of a good few more chapters, and I'll be posting again in a day or two!

Hunter, he learned, was terrible at learning how to sew.

This was found out, rather embarrassingly (for Hunter, that is), when Darius noticed his own sewing kit was missing. And, going off on a hunch, he knocked on Hunter’s door—to find him, on the floor, strewn together in a jumble of threads and fabric, staring like a deer in the staff-light.

“...you know there are videos you can look up, yes?” Darius tried, slowly, looking Hunter up and down. “That was partially the point of the scroll.”

“Uh,” Hunter blinked, “I-I thought…I could do it on my own…?”

“Practice only makes perfect when you have an idea of what you’re doing.” Darius sighed, stepping in, much to the gleeful chirps of Hunter’s palisman, who was perched safely on his bed. “Let’s just get that off of you.”

And, to his surprise, Hunter didn’t complain. Just sadly held out his arm for Darius to snip away the strings, doing nothing more than set the rest of the supplies back in neat order. He seemed more surprised by Darius staying to offer his assistance (the boy was going to stab his own eye out at this rate) than the nonplussed reaction to his thievery.

Of course, that had to be when the more…alarming acknowledgments began to set in for Darius. The most being that…well, realistically, he always knew this, but…Hunter was a kid.

Stupid thing to say, he knows, but he had no other way to describe it. Hunter, since the very day he was announced to exist at all by the Emperor, was simply the nephew. He was always just the spoiled brat, just trying too hard, just an annoyance, just Hunter.

The entire time Darius tried to walk Hunter through sewing his torn cloak together, the boy talked, exclusively, about his palisman. 

In that one session, which really only lasted about an hour, he learned the palisman was named Flapjack, he’d previously lived with the Bat Queen, kept pulling on Hunter’s hair, loved sunflower seeds more than any other, had many opinions about Hunter’s sleeping habits, and—well, just about everything else. 

Darius hadn’t asked a single question about that palisman. He’d figured Hunter wouldn’t have answered, considering he had to know what would happen if he was found to be hiding him. He had assumed Hunter would keep up the stoic, petty silence. There had been no other reason for him to expect anything else.

He found it harder to get Hunter to stay quiet than to start talking. Not that he tried to keep him quiet, but—you get the idea.

Hunter asked a million questions, and Darius was willing to bet he wasn’t even expecting answers for half of them. What do palismen normally eat? Are they really as good as an artificial staff? Can they be repaired if scarred? Do they always complain this much? Do all of them talk to their witches?

Darius supposed if he didn’t want so many questions, he shouldn’t have answered each one Hunter threw his way. Then again, he was much too stunned, and much too surprised by the change of pace, to ever consider it.

“You’d do better asking Raine,” Darius had said, at one point, finding that he seemed to be doing most of the work sewing up the cape, Hutner much too busy talking a mile a minute, “I never got to have a palisman, but they did.”

“You didn’t?” Hunter blinked. “But Hexside lets its students have palismen.”

“My time at Hexside was far different from your friends.” Darius said simply, ignoring Hunter’s sputtering about them being acquaintances, not friends. “They were stricter. And I joined the Emperor’s Coven much sooner than them, I had no reason to ever get one.”

“Oh,” Hunter said, stroking his finger down Flapjack’s head, blinking at the cloak in Darius’s hand, “did you ever want one?”

(“Don’t you want to get one?” Jasper asked, ear flicking, as though it were something normal to ask.

“And do what?” Darius scoffed, hunching his shoulders. “Wait for it to get taken from me?”

“I’d help you hide it.” He insisted, smiling in a crooked, mischievous way.

“You just want a palisman for yourself.” Darius accused, and Jasper only shrugged.

“What? So I think they’re cool, big deal. They’d make a neat pet.”

“They’re not pets, you daft—”)

“Suppose I might have.” Darius said evenly. “But there was just no good time. Are you going to pay attention, or not?”

“Right!” Hunter sat up like a rod, startling Flapjack as he tried to lean forward over his knees. “I’m watching, I’m paying attention. Should I take notes?”

“We’re not doing homework on sewing.” Darius scoffed, though he smiled. “I’m not that cruel.”

“I’m good at homework, though.”

“That’s not something to boast about, little prince.”

For that, Darius received a rather pathetic pout. Not that Hunter would ever call it that, of course.

It probably shouldn’t have disturbed him to see such…a normal, dumb, kid-like expression on the boy. He’d heard about scouts mistaking Hunter for some troublesome kid back when he briefly went missing, and he remembered scoffing at the idiocy of the Coven.

He tried not to stare out of the corner of his eye. Tried to keep his eyes on the cloak and his words on directing where Hunter’s hands should go, blocking out just about everything else.

He supposed he was just a little too harsh on the scouts. Looking back on it now…well, he probably would’ve made the same mistake, too.

Notes:

imagine having to slowly come to the realization you were kind of a dick to a very traumatized child. couldn't be darius

Chapter 3: old man

Penstagram, unfortunately, had become more of an eyesore than it used to be.

The Emperor clearly had no understanding of technology, and it became evident to many Coven members that places like Penstagram were practically free-range to do pretty much whatever they wanted. Of course, plenty still used it to find the locations of wild witches, but for quick communications or revealing faces, barely anyone batted an eye. There would be no punishments for it.

Darius tried to use Penstagram for normal things. Occasional pictures, deleting DMs he very much did not want to see, passively aggressively shit-talking his coworkers, and shooting a few quick, non-incriminating messages between himself, Eberwolf, and Raine when needed be.

And then there was Hunter’s account.

He’d only followed it to keep an eye on him. He knew the intricacies of what was and wasn’t allowed on Penstagram, but Hunter might not have. He found it ludicrous to suggest the kid would blurt Coven secrets on his account, but he was still paranoid. The boy thought sunlight was optional on functional growth, he didn’t know what else he’d assumed about life.

Much to his increasing migraine, most of Hunter’s posts were about Flapjack. His profile picture was of his own face, covering only one of his scars, in his Golden Guard attire.

Darius had nearly gotten a heart attack before he saw just how many people assumed Hunter was a fake account. Or some otherwise young child dressing up to pretend as the Golden Guard. He suspected the fact that most of Hunter’s posts were blurry disasters (that, to his credit, did exclude anything else that could be directly linked back to him or the Coven) did quite a bit to aid in this doubt.

No one would find his account on accident, it was far too obscure, and never tagged properly. Darius still monitored it, of course, but he was a little more at ease, figuring they were all in the clear. Even if he wanted to take the boy by the shoulders and plead him to be at least semi-functional with technology.

Then, as though Hunter had sensed Darius staring in dismay at his most recent failure of a post, the boy himself poked his head in through his office door.

“Uh, Darius?” Hunter asked, unsure, and Darius jerked his head up. 

He tried not to feel that old ping of nervousness when Hunter was slipping off his mask before he was fully in the office. Everyone knew Hunter’s face in the Coven, this was a normal, good thing. This was not something he had to be wary about others seeing.

“Don’t you have work to be doing?” Darius raised a brow, though he did set his scroll down. 

“Uh, well, y-yes, I was just doing that!” Hunter said quickly, and when Darius glanced down, he saw him holding his scroll up to his chest, walking over to his desk. “But then I started getting some messages, and I just wanted to…I wanted to see if these would be of interest?”

Darius, brow still raised, held out his hand. Hunter willingly handed it over without a second thought, Titan below this kid really needed to learn how to be a teenager, and Darius took a look at whatever he was talking about.

It was a DM, with what looked like a conversation between two hex-bots. Darius raised a brow, scrolling up—nope, that was Hunter’s texting. Good grief, it was atrocious.

The other one was a bot, at least. A very obvious one, in fact.

LIke.fabriCS? to muhc woRk ? CLICK HERE!

Hunter seemed to have been trying to respond to the bot, interrogating it about details. To which it fell apart into incoherent, insane texts.

“Hunter, this is a scam.” He deadpanned, though he supposed he could only be so exasperated. The kid had no phone, of course he didn’t know about people trying to hex scrolls.

“Gus said that, too.” Hunter frowned, ears pressing back. “He told me not to click a link?” He added, frowning, face scrunched up. 

“The underlined words. Of which he is correct.” Darius said, deciding not to ask who that was as he handed the phone back. “You’d get hexed.”

“Are you sure?” Hunter sounded truly disappointed, looking down at his scroll screen. “I thought more fabrics would be nice, ‘cause you have your own…”

“I have money to get more, just borrow mine.” Darius sighed, pressing his fingers to his forehead. He tried not to feel too twisted up when Hunter looked at him with pure shock. “In the future, just don’t talk to any messages you get that aren’t from your friends.”

“But how could I get hexed through some…underlined words?” Hunter squinted at his scroll, holding his phone up to his face.

“It’s a link, Hunter.”

“Like a chain?”

“Titan’s sake,” Darius groaned, dropping his face into his hand, “it’s like teaching an old man.”

“I’m not old!”

(“You’re such an old man.” Darius snickered, looking from the crystal ball to the face smooshed up against it.

“Hey!” Jasper barked, finally tearing away from it to send a pouting glare, of which Darius could only barely restrain a laugh. “I’m not old! I’m practically your age!”

“Oh, so now you’re my age?” Darius scoffed, rolling his eyes and leaning back, smug. “Is that why you hate being called ‘sir?’”

“I’m as spry as a fox-spitter, I’ll have you know.” Jasper huffed, placing a proud hand to his chest. “These crystal thingies are just needlessly complicated.”

“It’s only kind-of new tech.”

“It’s confusing, is what it is. I’m convinced you’re just messing with me.”)

“Figure of speech,” Darius waved it off, sure his mouth was pulling at an uncomfortable angle, “just be more careful in the future. Titan’s sake, you don’t need to fret about getting your own things.” He rolled his eyes. “I have more than enough to share. I already gave you a scroll.”

“Well…yeah.” Hunter hunched his shoulders a tad, looking from his scroll to Darius. “I-I just…you already got me the scroll, so…you’ve gotten me enough.”

“I’ll say when I’ve gotten you enough. This is not even close to the limit.” Darius said, firmly, if only because it made him feel…odd. This didn’t sound the least bit like a spoiled brat. “Now, scurry back to that important work you were having with your friends on Penstagram.”

“Acquaintances.” Hunter reminded, more of a grumble, than anything, neatly tucking his scroll underneath his cloak and into a pocket.

“No, they’re not. Run along.” Darius waved his hand, going back to pretending he was working on his own papers. “I’m sure teenagers like you have much to talk about.”

“I’m…working on that.” Hunter hummed, frowned so thoughtfully like he was solving some secret that it had Darius snorting, watching him turn away and pull his mask back down again.

Hunter’s fingers lingered, he noticed, over the nose. The tips scraping down slightly, pausing as though thinking something over. It was so painfully familiar he half expected to see a tangle of uncombed, wild hair when Hunter turned back to him.

But it was only his normal, somewhat-combed hair. Of course it was.

“Um, thank you.” Hunter mumbled, nodding jerkily. “For-for the assistance.”

“Happy to help.” Darius said, and if anyone said he sounded softer, they were a liar. “You can continue checking-in sometime in the future.”

It sort of slipped out. Not that he didn’t mean it, but he hadn’t really thought about saying it. The words were simply out there before he could think much. Though, he couldn’t really find himself regretting it when Hunter perked up, just the tiniest bit more interested.

Perhaps that should’ve been harder to tell, with his movements so subtle and face covered. But Darius liked to think himself an expert in such mannerisms.

“Thank you.” Hunter repeated, sounding suspiciously genuine, bringing his hood up. His small strand of hair still hung free, uncovered as he pulled open Darius’s door.

It looked a lot like Jasper’s, he noticed. There was always that one strand of hair poking free, refusing to obey the chaos of the rest of his mane. Hanging right in front of his face, bothering him to hell and back.

Then, Hunter was out the door, and Darius was alone in his office.

He shook off the weight on his chest, though it lingered like fog, and reshuffled his papers.

Perhaps he should do some real work.

Chapter 4: where is he?

Notes:

swear I have these backup chapters ready to post fellas, we're getting there! works just been a pain in the ass

Hunter was missing.

Darius didn’t know it was possible for him to get this panicked. He thought that panic was worn thin years and years ago, that the worst of it would always be when clutching a broken mask between his fingers, barely hearing the words he’d been dreading for weeks finally come true—

This wasn’t as terrifying as that, but it was damn near close. He didn’t think he could ever come close.

Hunter was missing, and it was, technically, his own damn fault.

“We couldn’t have known he was there.” Raine was insisting, though he could hear a tenseness in their voice, too. He knew they talked to Hunter every now and then.

Besides, it was Raine, they were always better with kids. Better than he ever was.

“We could have double-checked that we were being followed!” Darius snapped, arms crossed as he paced. “Eber, I thought you said—”

Eberwolf snarfed, wrinkling up his nose. Darius understood more of Eberwolf’s body language than he did his actual beastspeak, but the clear this is not on me was portrayed all the same.

“I’m sure he hasn’t gone far.” Raine assured, fingers drumming a tad anxiously over the wooden desk. “He was right by Eda’s place, they’re probably still out there looking for him.”

“That’s worse!” Darius hissed, whirling around to them. “You heard Eberwolf, they’re sending practically the entire bloody Coven down on your Owl Lady’s head! You think they won’t find Hunter?”

“It’s Eda.” Raine stressed. “She’s avoided the Emperor’s Coven longer than we’ve been rebelling.”

“Speak for yourself.” Darius muttered. Looking the other way, or the occasional bloodied body for a small handful of witches, wasn’t a rebellion. To him, it was the coward’s way of consoling themselves. In his eyes, his full rebellion hadn’t gone on nearly as long as it should’ve. 

Either way, Eberwolf chuffed their own agreement. They’d never been loyal, only here for the access to creatures the Emperor’s Coven provided.

“She’ll be fine.” Raine decided on, rolling their eyes slightly. “And she’ll make sure everyone in that house is fine. If the only way she can get caught is by showing up to the Emperor’s doorstep and succumbing to a curse, then they’re not capturing her now.”

“And they won’t capture Hunter?” Darius demanded. “If he’s not back now, something happened. He must’ve—he had to have seen something in the Emperor’s mind.” 

“I’m not saying he’s not in danger.” Raine raised their hands. “I’m saying that so long Eda is still looking for him, then nothing too bad could happen to him.”

“And I’m saying that you’re a damn sentimentalist.” Darius hissed, lip twitching over a fang on instinct. 

Eberwolf gruffed, a snort that had Darius glaring his way. He gave him an unimpressed look, not bothering to sign a single word. Darius got the memo. He looked away.

“You’ve texted him, haven’t you?” Raine pressed. “I’m sure if anything bad happened, he’d get back to you.”

“He hasn’t gotten back to me.” Darius snapped, fingers flexing over his crossed arms. “That’s what has me worried.”

(“He still hasn’t gotten back to me.” Darius frowned, glancing Eberwolf’s way. “I didn’t think he was… that cross.”

Eberwolf raised a brow, poking their head up from the pile of plant soil and…worms, or something, they were strewn across. They didn’t seem very convinced.

“Yeah,” Darius sighed, looking back down to his desk, where no new letter lay, and the old, crummy crystal ball was silent, “he probably got himself into trouble again. The moron.”

He didn’t sound as annoyed as he wanted to be. It was hard to stay that way, when eyes full of fear still flashed in his memory.

His fingers clenched around the crystal ball.

They should search the forest again.)

Darius shut his eyes tight and exhaled, heavier than needed. He did not believe in a history that repeated itself, and maybe, if he convinced himself of that, then the reality wouldn’t matter anymore. So long he couldn’t tell the difference, he could live with the lie.

“I’ll have my BATs look for him.” Raine promised, as gently as they could. “Even then, he can’t have gone far.”

“No, the BATs likely won’t find anything. Unfortunately, you’re right, he has to be close by.” Darius frowned towards the window of their office, where he could see scouts gathering, ready to march on the Owl House. “That’s the worst part.”

Chapter 5: why would I ever do that?

Notes:

man, writing Jasper and Darius' segments are always the most fun parts for me to write in this fic. maybe i should do something with them

Darius’s scroll buzzed at the horrendously nightmarish hour of five in the morning.

On any other day, he wouldn’t have checked it at this time. Probably some DM he didn’t want, or Eberwolf showing him a picture of some bug, trying to keep his mind off the inevitable Day of Unity rapidly approaching. Or of the Owl House being raided and torn apart, no occupants found inside.

But, blearily, he still slapped his side table, and he still tilted his scroll to blink at it. If he was in his right state of mind, he wouldn’t have bothered. But he’d been obsessively checking it so often it was now like second-nature to peek.

 

RULERZREACHF4N

im.okAy.

 

Darius squinted, blinked at the words a few times. Ran them over in his mind, putting the pieces together as though wading through tar.

He sat up like he was on fire.

 

Where are you? 

 

i didNT.knowyou. Were awake..sOry

 

 

Oh, he was going to throw this kid when he found him. And pick him up again.

 

Do not apologize. Are you okay?

 

yea 

 

Where?

 

I canT tell. yu tHa,,,t

 

Hunter, where are you?

 

cant tell.

 

Darius exhaled, pinched the bridge of his nose, relaxed his shoulders. Forced out all the fears of what could and couldn’t have happened, and brought his scroll up again. Alright, fine.

 

Do you recall the witches you tried to arrest before you were sent to the Emperor’s mindscape?

 

He saw three dots appear. Then they stopped. They started up again, then stopped. Clearly, Hunter knew.

 

Hunter, I was among them.

Raine and Eberwolf were the other two.

We had no idea you were there.

 

There was a long, waiting stretch of silence. It ate Darius alive, waiting for those dots to appear. This could jeopardize all of them, he knew, if for some reason Hunter decided to carry this information back.

For a reason he felt wasn’t all too hard to find, he didn’t really believe that option on the table anymore.

 

yoR wild?? ? 

 

Darius exhaled in a tired, relieved sigh.

 

No, little prince, I still have my sigil.

But we share some common beliefs. 

Whatever happened, we will help you.

I promise.

 

He left it at that. Saw the dots appear, vanish again. Already, Darius was standing up, and looking to where his closet lay.

 

heXsid

 

I’ll be right there.

---

 

Hexside was in borderline disrepair when he arrived.

He’d heard of Adrian’s attempt on the place. Not that he ever admitted to such a thing, of course, but Darius heard the rumors. They traveled fast in the Coven.

He’d sent only a text to Raine and Eberwolf as to where he went, figuring they likely weren’t awake, either. And if they were, Darius had silenced his scroll before he left. He didn’t need any distractions.

It was eerily silent outside the old school, that was the part that alarmed him. He pulled his hood further down over his head, glancing around as though expecting something to leap out at him. Hexside was never, in all his years, silent.

The steps were the same, and even the windows. If he looked just out of the corner of his eye, he swore he could see blond, shaggy hair poking out of the bushes, much too dark to be Hunter’s, waiting to wave him over.

Darius stopped in front of the heavy duty doors. He tugged on the doorknobs, finding it…locked.

He frowned, paused, then knocked.

Silence. 

For a moment, Darius almost pulled out his scroll again. Wondering if, perhaps, Hunter had misspelled some other place he was at.

Then, he heard a click.

The door shifted, just a crack.

A singular, small eye peered out at him.

“Are you the Coven Head?” A young, cracking voice asked.

“I’m looking for Hunter.” He said as an answer, hand flexing slightly. “He’s here?”

“Are you the Coven Head?” They repeated, firmer, eye turning to a glare.

“Oh for—I’m Deamonne, is that enough?” Darius hissed, feeling his nerves rise by the minute. “I don’t care about whatever nonsense you children have gotten into—Hunter?” He tried to peer through the crack, voice raising. “Hunter, can you hear—?”

“I’ll take it from here.”

Darius frowned, ear twitching at the familiar voice—and the eye was replaced, stepping aside. The door opened by a wider margin, enough to see whoever was inside—

“Bump,” Darius’s eyebrows raised slightly, “I half expected you to have quit by now.”

“I’ll have to see much worse than this to quit.” Bump huffed, eyes just a bit narrowed, looking him up and down. “You’re not here for the same reason as Graye, I presume?”

“Graye is a coward who wanted a few extra licks in.” Darius scoffed, trying to look further over Bump’s head, seeing a few witches and demons that looked like students staring back at him. “Now where is Hunter?”

Bump looked him up and down again. Eyes squinted, assessing. Darius tried his best to not growl like he wanted. He’d always liked Bump, much more than most of the other staff in his damned school, and he normally appreciated his caution. 

Right now, he kind of wanted to bite his head off.

“You will be watched.” Bump warned, and he stepped aside.

Darius was through the doors and frantically searching those gathered before he even registered stepping foot into Hexside.

“Hunter?” He asked, searching the faces staring at him—no, most were teachers, those that were students were older ones. None even came close to Hunter.

“This way.” Bump said evenly, and Darius looked back to find him walking through the hallway.

Darius sighed, grit his teeth, pressed back his ears, and followed.

The teachers and students followed suit. It was a long time since Darius ever felt like he needed a guarded entourage. This was perhaps the first time others were being guarded from him, not the other way around.

He told himself to give Adrian some bleach in his stupid jackets the next time he saw him.

“What is this, a war camp?” Darius huffed under his breath.

“Hunter’s informed us what will come on the Day of Unity.” Bump looked over his shoulder, and Darius’s eyes widened. “We’ve tried to prepare accordingly, and many students are electing to stay here.”

“I assume their parents think them missing, then.” Darius said slowly, looking up, and finding students slipping out of sight when he did.

“Only a few.”

“Charming.” Darius hummed, noting the graffiti and scattered cans littered about. He supposed some trash was acceptable in the wake of an oncoming…well, Unity.

Then, there came the large, heavy double-doors of the paranoratorium.

To which Bump made a left down a different hallway, though Darius could tell there were kids teaming in the paranoratorium. There were already some guards posted outfront, warily eyeing him as he went down to the left. He peered down that hallway, wondering if Bump thought he was a moron or something—

And Bump gestured into an open classroom door. And when Darius peeked through—there he was.

Hunter, sitting on some random piles of old pillows and carpets, looking up at some girl Darius vaguely recognized as one of his friends. They were talking in quiet voices, and she was leaning against a bookshelf, sitting cross-legged. Next to him was a younger boy, also someone he recognized, laying against his side.

Hunter looked, for lack of a better word, like a wreck.

“Titan below,” Darius breathed, and Hunter tensed and jerked his head towards him like a spooked hare. His friends followed suit. 

“Oh, h-hey! Uh, hey!” Hunter cleared his throat, sitting up and hastily trying to get to his feet, shaky and jerky with all his movements. “I-I didn’t think it’d be so, um, so soon, I-I meant to move closer to the doors—”

“Titan, are you okay?” Darius stressed, immediately through the doors and approaching at a quick pace. 

Hunter flinched. It wasn’t uncommon, Darius remembered it looking eerily similar to that first flinch, back on the beach. Shoulders hunched and ears pressed back, eyes shut, expecting something like a blow.

The girl was at his side in barely half a second, hand on his upper arm.

“He’s okay.” She answered, watching him with…not quite distrust, but it was wary. A warning, and he could see the other boy beginning to stand as well.

“I am.” Hunter murmured, blinking his eyes back open, glancing at the girl nervously before they went back to Darius.

“Okay,” Darius breathed, staying right where he was, letting the tension ease out, “you spooked the lot of us, prince.”

“Sorry,” Hunter murmured, and Darius resisted a sigh.

“Please stop apologizing.” He tried, and Hunter shut his mouth with a click and nodded. “You’re sure you’re alright?”

Flapjack popped his head out of the back of Hunter’s shirt. He felt a little more at ease seeing that, the bird climbing up to nestle between his shoulder and neck. Well, if the palisman was there, Hunter would be alright.

“I-I’ll be fine.” Hunter cleared his throat, and Darius tried not to focus too hard on the eventually that was left unsaid. “You…um,” He looked over Darius, still wound tight like a toy, “you’re…not taking me…back, right?” He trailed off slowly, getting quieter and quieter, the fear…no, that was terror, like a mist behind Hunter’s eyes, threatening to turn into a full storm. “I’m not going back?”

(“Are you going to take me back?”

There was no response, and that silence was perhaps the scariest part. He would’ve preferred a straight answer, right out of the gait, just to know. Even if it was a ‘yes,’ he would’ve taken it. He’d rather feel the terror right in that moment, instead of stewing in it.

Then, there were footsteps. Darius tensed, pressing his side further against the wall, eyes still locked on the ground. He knew he was shaking, and that was only partially because of the blood falling from his arm. Twisted and bent in every which way, he hoped his tears would be mistaken for pain, and not fear.

A shadow crouched next to him. He squeezed his eyes shut, knocking it against the wall. His heartbeat in his ears, ready for the blow. He ruined it all, and he wondered if it would’ve been better to stay loyal if he never had to lose any of this.

“Now, why would I ever do that?” Murmured the Golden Guard, and Darius sprung open his eyes. He looked—and there was Jasper, pushing his mask back, looking just as pained, full of remorse. Was that guilt? “I happen to like you a lot more than I like some dumb rules.” He chuckled, shifting, and then his side was lightly pressed to Darius’, a grounding weight. “You ought to know that by now.”

Darius was sure Jasper knew why he was crying, now. But he didn’t seem to care, and when he buried his face in his shoulder, Jasper didn’t push him away. Just awkwardly held the back of his head, because he never seemed to know how to accept touch, and let him muffle his cries.

If he wished hard enough, maybe Jasper was shaking, too.)

“Now,” Darius said, slowly, feeling an ugly punch in his gut, “why would I ever do that?”

Hunter blinked up at him, ears pricking, ever so slightly. Owlishly, if Darius wanted to sigh at himself, and his friends looked a little relieved.

“The Emperor will surely hate me quite a bit when all of this is over, regardless of what we do now.” Darius continued, trying a small, forced smile. “And you’re not being taken anywhere if I can help it.”

Slowly, shakily, Hunter tried to smile back, with the crooked gap in his teeth and all. It curved oddly at the corner, and that punch became a piercing blade.

“Promise?” Hunter whispered, and it sounded more like a tease.

“I promise.” Darius said, as soft as he dared. “If I’m to be allowed, I have much to tell you before our Unity, prince.”

“Okay,” Hunter agreed, shakily, and nodded to the girl, who slowly let her hand drift away from his arm.

For the tiniest moment, Darius thought his smile might be genuine.

Notes:

I know Darius' shoulder cape is a fashion choice, but I like to think it also serves purpose to cover up some nasty scarring. maybe even a slightly weaker arm, from an accident from long ago. i think it could be neat

Chapter 6: nice to see you again

Notes:

growing iller over jasper by the days fellas. every day i wonder about making another fic abt him

The Coven Head’s were some of the first turned to puppets. Half because they fought back the hardest, half because they were too exhausted to be much fun for the Collector. 

Darius was a bit of both.

He spat and snarled in the Collector’s face, but he could barely get himself off the ground. Eberwolf had no such issues, running and scurrying about and aiming to maul the beings face right off.

And there Eberwolf fell, in a pile of strings and wood.

Darius wasn’t too far behind. He suspects his sudden strength came from the fear that this is what a new kind of death would look like.

He remembers little from being a puppet. There are flashes, here and there, that seep into his mind. Most are the same as the last. Standing in an empty room, and sometimes he’d hear a voice that sounded like Eda’s. He knew there were others with him, but he could only see them out of the corner of his eye.

This, he knew, wasn’t death. He was both relieved and distraught by that, figuring the least he deserved was a dignified end after everything he went through. But no, here he was, the toy of something he…didn’t really understand, frankly.

During the times he could think, he was hopeful others had made it free. Someone in the rebellion had to have made it out. Hunter was far away from the catastrophe when it hit, he could’ve been completely fine.

Though, he had no clue what the Isles looked like, now.

No, his first real thoughts came when he blinked open his eyes, and his hands were suddenly his own again.

It was a nightmare, that first hour after everyone was freed. Scrambling to find families and friends, millions of questions, and plenty of panic. Darius managed to keep his head on straight and hole himself in a corner while he got himself together, which worked in his favor. It meant he got a clear view of Eberwolf launching himself through the crowd in a mad rush.

Eberwolf seemed to calm down significantly when they came across Darius, who decided he could allow a hug, as unbathed as they were. It’d been a long…month, apparently, according to those who were around to keep track of time.

In the Archives, he saw Raine’s kids, their BATs who waved and said hello to him. He greeted Lilith and Steve, but his eyes still scanned the crowd for those on the…shorter side.

Eberwolf was already sniffing around when Darius saw the girl with the purple hair. Alador’s daughter, that was her, the youngest. He’d sent Hunter to help the other kids find her, just to keep them out of trouble and as safe as they could, while still satisfying their desire to be of use.

She seemed just fine, running up to hug Alador. Whom he was not going to come within fifty feet of, thank you very much.

If she was here, then…

He saw Hunter’s friend first. Willow, he believed, running up to what he presumed to be her fathers. He tracked where she ran from, and—

Titan below, Darius’s heart sank through the floor before it rose right back up again.

He wondered if blinking as he hurried over would disperse it, but, no—oh, he was covered in scars. If he thought the ones from before were concerning, this was downright mortifying. Each and every one deeper and twice as jagged than they once were, stretching over his skin and pulling it at odd angles. 

Hunter looked like he’d gone through a war. It didn’t seem to be a fair one.

But, Darius held back from grabbing his shoulders and shaking him like he wanted. The kid looked high strung enough as it was, and…well, he didn’t need that.

So, Darius paused, thought it over—and pressed his hand into Hunter’s hair.

Hunter yelped, jerking and whirling around with a glare on his face. He almost snorted at it, the familiar gesture as Hunter bristled—before he froze, eyes widening.

His right eye didn’t move as much as his left, didn't open quite as wide, and he suspected it had to do with the new scar that went across the edge of it. Or maybe it was due to his eyes being brown, losing that unique magenta they once held. How in the—?

He felt weight on his shoulder, and he knew Eberwolf had hopped up, having found where he wandered off. Darius still smiled, if only to see Hunter…well, maybe not okay, but alive.

“Nice to see you, too.” Darius said softly, eyes looking him up and down, and noticing his new attire. “What’s with the shirt?”

(“Always nice to see you, brat.” Jasper chuckled, hands on his knees, ignoring Darius’s wide-eyed staring. “When’d your hair get all goopy?”

“When’d your face get jacked?” Darius sneered back, and he almost immediately regretted it.

Which phased just as quickly when, after a solid few seconds of blinking, Jasper erupted into wheezy, snorting laughter.

Darius gave a small, genuine smile. He wasn’t sure if Jasper noticed it through all his laughing, shoulders shaking with it.

“You’re such an asshole.” Jasper cackled, shoving at his shoulder, sending Darius stumbling.

“Takes one to know one!”)

Hunter blinked, paused, then tried at a small, shy smile.

“It’s, um, it’s wolves.” Hunter said, tugging on the hem of his shirt, looking down as though he just realized what he was wearing. “It’s a human realm creature.”

“Human realm, now?” Darius’s brows raised, and he could already see Eberwolf growing more interested by the minute on his shoulder. “Had a productive apocalypse, did you?”

Hunter snickered, something almost a little sad, and Darius wondered, distantly, where Flapjack was.

“Something like that.” Hunter said, fingers flexing over his shirt. “It’s a lot, though.”

“We have time.” Darius said evenly, and he knew if there wasn’t, he’d make time.

He swore Hunter’s smile grew, just a little bit.

Chapter 7: arms, legs, gut, face

Notes:

all of the things you love but I hate

It took far, far too long for Darius to finally piece it all together. 

In his defense, picking up after the Collector was a pain. There was constant rebuilding, fighting off old Coven-supporters, and trying to keep everyone from falling apart in a mad panic. There wasn’t time to think about the past.

Plus, he was a little too busy rolling around Hunter’s tales in his head. His turmoils in the human realm sounded chaotic enough, let alone when he finally got back.

So, Darius didn’t think much about those little bits of Deja Vu in the back of his mind. Besides, he’d been ignoring them for…a long while now.

It went like this; the Owl House was overcrowded.

It’d started as only he and Eberwolf visiting, Hunter in tow, in their regular drop-off. Darius was due for a chaotic mess of work and papers in the oncoming week, and so he had long-since come up with a schedule that went along with Eda and some human woman, Camila, that would ensure Hunter was always under the roof of someone responsible.

That’s what he was meant to do, at least. Somehow, Raine also seemed to be at the Owl House (a common occurrence these days), and Hunter had apparently asked for his visit around the time his own friends were milling about, apparently trying some odd spells with their palismen. They’d taken one step over the threshold and Hunter had made a beeline for the human Luz, already taunting that it was his turn to mess with Stringbean, much to her laughing yells.

And, somehow, Darius had wound up in the kitchen, talking with Raine. Somehow, Eda had shoved herself into the conversation. Somehow, Eberwolf wasn’t clawing at the walls to go back outside.

Somehow, it was dusk, and Darius was still here, laughing, and hadn’t once thought of leaving. Odd.

“Personally,” Eda was saying, swaying her right arm, the cloth tied to the end flopping about, “I don’t trust Alador to not spring some secret price on me.”

“I don’t believe he would for a prosthetic.” Raine tried.

“He married Odalia, he can’t make good choices.” Eda huffed, rolling her eyes, lifting her mug.

“He’s divorcing her.” Darius said, maybe a tad quickly, holding his own tea tightly. He suspected his drink would get ruined by Eda being in the vicinity, Raine whistling an odd way, or Eberwolf being Eberwolf.

“We know, Darius.” Raine hummed, as though it were a trial.

“Hasn’t shut up, has he?” Eda snickered, and Darius leveled a glare her way.

“I am adding an addendum to your claim.” Darius grumbled, knowing very well Eberwolf was giving him a smug look. “By all means, I wouldn’t trust Alador to not do who-knows-what to a prosthetic, but he’s clearly not as bad as you when it comes to life-choices.”

“So you commit a few crimes, big deal!” Eda scoffed, Raine giving Darius a half-joking reprimanding look. “If you ask me,” She said, eyes sliding out the kitchen doorway, and Darius turned to follow her gaze, “I made some pretty damn good choices, too.”

The chatter from the kids had faded into background noise a long time ago. He’d been in the Emperor’s Coven, one tended to stop caring about loud voices rising in a yell, or even a concerning thump or two. It was the same old, and this house was no different.

Now, he could see Hunter, perched in the back of the couch Eda finally managed to find, a small army of palisman clinging to him. A cat on his shoulder, a bee in his hair, chameleon sticking to his leg, and one snakeshifter wrapped cheerfully around his forearm.

“Thief!” Luz was cackling, making a wild grab for his leg, sending Hunter trying to move further up the back of the couch, swiping at her. 

“Palisman thief!” Gus crowed, trying to nab Emmiline before getting swiped at.

“Hold that thought,” Hunter held up a finger, drawing the arm Stringbean was wrapped on closer. He put her by his ear, and she flicked her tongue, tickling and causing him to twitch it, “mmhmm, I see.” Hunter drew Stringbean away, looking back down. “She says I’m her favorite.”

“She does not!” 

“She says I’m the best.” Hunter grinned, positively smug, and continuously failing to keep his balance. “So she’s staying here.”

“You can’t speak to all palismen!”

“As far as you know.”

(“Eber says I’m their favorite.”

“Oh, he did not.” Darius barked, promptly causing Jasper to erupt into laughter, causing Eberwolf to nearly topple right off his back. “You don’t even know beastspeak!”

“According to you.” 

“According to everyone!” 

Eberwolf just barked, scrambling to keep their hold. Jasper winced at their claws, twisting this way and that until Eberwolf was in good eyesight of Darius.

They gave an exasperated, over-dramatic raise of their brow, and Darius really couldn’t help snickering, then.)

Darius let his shoulders loosen, turning back to his drink. He could pinpoint the moments before Hunter inevitably toppled right off the couch, and he was sure he’d just get another heart-attack watching the kids lunge on him.

“Alright,” He hummed, sliding his gaze Eda’s way, “I’ll give you that. Only that.” He added quickly when Eda gave him such a smarmy expression.

“Aww, lookit that, he did get all softened.” Eda grinned, giving Raine a look like it’d been a conversation before.

“And you hardly changed.” Darius muttered, taking another sip of his tea.

“Can’t fix perfection.” Eda teased, and Darius rolled his eyes and decided to risk watching the kids again, if only to avoid the stupidly sappy expression Raine was going to give her.

Hunter was still in a pile on the floor, as were his friends. It seemed most of them gave up tackling him, although Luz was trying to put him in a headlock, of which he was vehemently kicking about. 

Darius suspected he was laughing too hard to really throw her off. Then again, he’d heard how that girl fought. Maybe they were evenly matched.

“Yield!” Luz was hollering, Stirngbean having, supposedly entirely willingly, slithered up to coil around her neck like a scarf.

“Nev—no!” Hunter laughed, lightly punching at her arm. “She–she said—!”

“You don’t speak palisman, I’m not falling for that two days in a row!”

And Hunter only laughed, louder, head thrown back, a bit breathless with it. It seemed a tiny bit hysterical, which had Darius slightly worried, but none of the kids seemed to be all that alarmed. Willow only knocked against Hunter’s leg, smiling.

Hunter’s laughter came out in heavy breaths, wheezing through his tooth gap. It was a twisted, jolting kind of laugh, one that snorted through—

Darius frowned, then gave his head a tiny shake. No, it whistled, not wheeze. Good grief, he must be more tired than he thought.

Luz finally let Hutner go, and he gave her a punch to the back as she left. She batted at him, and Hunter pushed himself up onto his arms. He was still recovering from his laughter, fangs bared for all to see.

Looking now, though Darius wasn’t sure why it took him this long (he did), he noticed Hunter’s teeth were also all kinds of crooked. Bent in all the wrong places, giving off the impression of a crowded mouth. If he squinted, he could’ve sworn some of his front teeth looked longer than others—

Oh.

Hunter’s eyes glanced his way, and their color was different, but they were just a little unnerving, weren’t they? Shaped oddly, like they were trying to be less animal-like, but it didn’t quite get the message. 

Oh no.

Then, the side of his mouth raised, directed towards Darius. It was crooked, higher on the left side, in an adorable sort of way. One of his ears flicked up with it, the other drooping down.

(Jasper smiled at him.)

Hunter’s shoulder was promptly knocked into by Gus, and he went right back to tussling with the boy. If anything, it spared Darius the explanation of how he was sure his expression looked.

That was Jasper.

Slowly, his eyes went to Eberwolf. Who seemed to only be paying half of his attention to the matter at hand. But, when Darius turned, Eberwolf looked up.

Their fur bristled at Darius’s expression. Worry seeped in near immediately, and Darius kind of wanted to laugh as desperately as he wanted to yell out every curse he’d ever heard.

“I think it’s late.” Darius said, in some voice he felt was too far away from his own, too unrecognizable. “Eber and I should go home.”

For once in their life, Eberwolf didn’t argue.

Darius kind of wished they had.

 

---

 

Before saying anything, Darius tore his attic apart.

He had a box, tucked away under the wooden beams, kept secret out of paranoia more than any real secrets. There were some old folders, yes, but only a few of them were incriminating. No, within most of them, he kept photos.

Old ones, many worn or dusty over time. He’d cleaned as much he could, and saved even more to his scroll to try and preserve them further. Some still couldn’t be recovered all that well, but he kept them all the same.

Jasper had been rather camera shy, especially when it came to his face. Over the years, he’d eventually grow more used to it, leading to most of the pictures in his folders being of Jasper with his mask on, face obscured, or when he was already older. 

Jasper always felt younger and younger each time Darius looked at them. Never even made it to thirty, didn’t have a chance. How old had he gotten, to realize that was hardly enough time to ever be alive?

But he had a few. He had one, blurry photo of Jasper, at the age of eighteen. He’d just barely turned, and Darius had been trying to take a picture of the map they were using, knowing Jasper would lose it. He had, and Jasper’s disgruntled expression in the corner of the picture showcased it in full, pouting and exasperated.

And Darius held that picture in his hands, in case that, somehow, the one he’d saved to his scroll had somehow…gotten something wrong.

On his scroll, Darius went onto Penstagram. Hunter hadn’t the time to mess with his account, and so his old profile picture was still up. When his scars were smaller, and his eyes were magenta.

Darius lifted his photo, and he held it right next to Hunter’s.

For Titan’s sake, their eyes were the exact fucking same.

Not the shape, but the color was exact. A little more red than purple, pupils that looked like they were trying to naturally stay round, but wanted to turn slitted like most witches. 

Their noses were similar, crooked and with a long bridge. Both of their ears just a little too big for their heads, and the Titan-damned string of hair in front of their faces—

Eberwolf was at his back, he knew. He could feel him, pressing, then against his leg, staring down at the photos. He knew they registered the similarities from the stiffening in their entire body.

Jasper had no family. This, Darius had always known as a fact. Jasper himself had told him as such. He was abandoned during a raid on wild witches, and Belos had taken him under his wing, knowing he could become better. That he was destined for something greater, and had gifted him the title of Golden Guard when he was Hunter’s current age.

But Belos was not his family. Once, Jasper may have said he felt like one. But as time wore on, Darius knew that wasn’t true anymore. 

Jasper had no family. This was a fact. No parents, no siblings, no uncles, aunts, cousins, what-have-you. Even if he did, none of them ever came looking for him, or Belos took care of them. And, frankly, there was no way in hell that Belos just-so- happened to have stumbled across a long-lost relative he somehow missed.

There was no way for them to look this similar unless they were related. No one had genes that lucky. They couldn’t be cousins, it didn’t seem likely. Either they were siblings, which seemed unlikely, considering the age gap between them, or…

Eberwolf jerked their head back to Darius. Darius couldn’t bring himself to turn his head, resulting in forcing his eyes to move over to meet their gaze, staring with what he was sure was something akin to hysterical horror.

“Did,” He started, throat a bit hoarse, swallowed, then; “did Jasper have a kid?”

Notes:

you cant tell me darius didnt at least SUSPECT that in the show, like. surely he must have at least CONSIDERED it. surely

Chapter 8: are we really going to die like this?

Notes:

slides back in with a coffee. hey hows it goin

Darius lost an astronomical amount of sleep. Which was not a great thing to lose when one was filled with a week of long, hard, arduous work.

But really, there was no way it wouldn’t eat him alive. Either he lost sleep, or he lost even more of his sanity. He’d gladly give up the sleep.

Jasper had no relationship with anyone. This, Darius also knew to be a fact, as much as he’d rather recoil into his own skin than think about the implications. Jasper, may he rest in peace wherever he lay, was awful on the dating scene. Didn’t even have a molecule of worth to offer.

He was also, well, Jasper. If he somehow had gotten some kind of date, then Darius would’ve had his door kicked in and a very distressed, confused Golden Guard begging him for help. Not that Darius would have, after the disaster Jasper had caused between him and Alador way back when, but the point still stood.

There was always the possibility of…nope, he was not thinking about his mentor with one-night-stands. As stated above, he valued his sanity.

This, though, Eberwolf found a rare thing to agree with him on.

“Possible,” Eberwolf signed, apparently deciding the situation dire enough to pull the sign language he’d learned for such an instance, “old enough.”

“I know he’s old enough for it to work.” Darius sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “That doesn’t make it any better. It’s just…” He put his face in his hands. “Jasper had a kid?”

Eberwolf whined, something that almost sounded like a growl, drawn-out and pained. Darius found himself, for once, relating.

The worst part was that, ignoring this was Hunter, the idea that Jasper had an accidental child out roaming the Isles was…not too far-fetched of an idea. Bless him, but Jasper really did try his best to be charming with any nice witches they found. And he was, frankly, grossly irresponsible.

At the very least, there was no way, in all of the Isles, that Jasper knew. No, he would’ve found Darius wherever he was in the castle and crumpled into a ball of distressed, and perhaps even excited, hysterics. He couldn’t even keep a secret to save his life (bad thought, he winced), there was no way in hell he could hide a bastard child running around.

The hardest part came with…

“Belos knew.” Darius said quietly, hands dropping.

Eberwolf stared back at him, and he growled.

“He had to.” Darius continued, staring off at the wall. “And he told Hunter he was his uncle.”

It made sense, in a way. Hunter looked uncannily like Jasper, when he finally put it all together (he still beat himself over the head for taking so long), and though there was no way Belos could have known he’d look so similar as he grew older, he surely had to have suspected he’d look like Jasper. It’s near impossible for it all to be coincidence. 

So, he took in the boy, and he told him he was his uncle. It kept Hunter’s face out of the public eye, seeing as the remains of Jasper’s own face would circulate for at least another few years, and it stopped any of his family finding where he was.

Darius had to wonder how Belos discovered his existence in the first place. Perhaps the witch had gone to the Emperor and asked for immunity, seeing as they were carrying the child of the Golden Guard? Perhaps the Emperor simply used one of his eyes, the ones that were impossible to avoid for long, and they had discovered it.

Either way, that witch was surely dead now. Darius almost wanted to scoff, because, really, what else would they have expected? 

He found he didn’t have the heart to be anything but remorseful.

“Hired him,” Eberwolf signed, and Darius snapped his eyes back to him, “hired for Jasper.” He signed, putting his hands into a J shape before signing ‘gold.’ Darius still thought they weren’t as clever as they thought for that name. 

“...Titan, I wish I could’ve killed him.” Darius groaned, throwing his head back. “It was a twice-over nepotism hire. He didn’t even bloody try to be subtle.”

Eberwolf snorted, despite it all, a chuff and a smile, sharp teeth poking through.

“Hush,” Darius grumbled, throwing a hand over his eyes, “you’re as freaked as I am.”

Eberwolf didn’t say anything to that, signed or otherwise.

Darius moved his arm, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Serves him right, thinking he was over being a turmoil of emotions over his mentor. A pang, or a longing, perhaps, but he’d gotten out the worst emotion he’d ever feel for the man the day he died. From then on, any and all feelings would fade out into something smaller, and he himself made sure it would stay that way.

And here he was, trying to keep together the threads of his brain, because Jasper never could die in peace, could he? He always had to die with a dramatic, furious flare that still ate Darius alive. He had to die with a mystery and so many ‘facts’ that didn’t make sense. He had to die with a fucking kid.

(“C’mon now, Dar,” Jasper whispered, hand over his back, left eye bruised to all hell but trying valiantly to widen, nearly swollen shut, “we’re not gonna die like this, are we?”

“Of course we are!” Darius hissed, just as quietly, knowing how badly he was shaking, clinging to his own arms. “This is how countless witches die, this is—”

“Oh, surely you don’t believe that?” Jasper puffed, smiling in that crooked way, teeth a bit cracked, and Darius could see some blood spilling from his lip. “That’s how the people who never get remembered die. We’re going to be remembered, aren’t we?”

“Is that all you care about?” Darius sniffed, and it didn’t sound as harsh as he expected it would.

“Hey, I’m the Golden Guard.” Jasper grinned, patting Darius’s back, drawing them up to their feet. “I’m going to leave something behind no matter what I do. You’re the one who's gonna have to work for it.” He said, just a bit of a tease, head turning, something shining in the eye that wasn’t terribly swollen. “So, are you gonna get to work, or did I teach you nothing?”

And Darius wondered if, maybe, Jasper was saying it for himself, too.

“...guess I have to.” Darius sighed, and Jasper looked as though he’d seen the world come into existence. Perhaps, in a way, he had.)

Darius snorted. He heard Eberwolf shift, and when he leaned up, the beast was laying his hands over his leg, looking up in concern, ears pressed back.

“Suppose he would’ve liked it this way.” Darius hummed, quietly. “After that insult of a funeral, at least he left something to remember.”

Eberwolf’s ears flattened further, glare in the back of their throat. Of everyone, they’d been the most infuriated at Jasper’s death. At how it was merely an announcement, a single day of Isles-wide mourning, and then it was over, save for new excuses to hunt down wild witches like bloodhounds.

Jasper was forgotten the second he was out of sight. It was one of his worst nightmares, and Darius wasn’t sure how he felt, knowing that Jasper would never know it came into being.

“Had to leave something.” Eberwolf signed, almost a tad amused, albeit bitter.

“He always does.” Darius sighed, leaning further back in his lounge. “I swear I hate him more every day.”

Eberwolf puffed, flopping so that he leaned against Darius’s leg, because he knew Darius would throw him across the room if he tried to climb onto the lounge with how filthy he always was. Darius didn’t have the heart to tell them he would’ve allowed it, just this once.

The silence lingered, then. A sort of simmering, the initial shock and panic wearing thin. Not like they could do much about it anyway, could they? 

Jasper was a father (though Darius still shuddered, he didn’t really want to phrase it like that) , and what else? The man was dead, Belos was dead, and Hunter was perfectly content with his life. Nothing really needed, nor could, be done.

He didn’t know if he’d bring his findings to Hunter. It wouldn’t really change anything in the long-run if he did. It still didn’t change which ‘family’ it was that raised him, and which one he had now. 

So he was related to a man he never met, who held the title of Guard before him, and who had been Darius’s best friend. There wasn’t really anything to go from beyond that. Except maybe hate Belos more than everyone already had. Uncreative prick.

Darius raised his head, just a little bit, looking down to Eberwolf. He waited until Eberwolf noticed, looking back up at him.

“You know,” Darius said, “I do think Jasper would’ve liked a little originality with his kid’s name. I didn’t really know there was a way for Hunter to get even less creative.”

Despite it all, Eberwolf snickered.

Darius found it made him feel just a little bit better.