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#but amity! turns out im not immune to mean lesbians either because first episode and she was already my fav
Space girl
The beginning of most love stories: the moon falls in love with the sun.
(The problem, however, is that most love stories aren’t set in the Boiling Isles. To confirm that the metaphor works adequately, there must exist at least one moon and one sun in your admittedly bonkers world. Is there a sun? A moon?)
Amity shivers where she’s sitting at her window, stares up at the bright bluish orb hanging over the sky and decides it does, in fact, qualify as a celestial body, whatever the hell that means. Luz has been teaching them about the intricacies of the human world, every bit of knowledge that they would require if in case they ever got transported there accidentally, and that includes something called a smartphone, a bus and the shortest way to the nearest vending machine, preferably a vending machine that stocks Mars Bars. Amity suspects the last is just another one of Luz’s whims, but has no way of confirming.
(And what is the point of confirming anything anyways? It is enough to sit in front of Luz, or beside her or anywhere with a direct line of sight to her, so Amity can listen to her blabber on about chocolate chips and scrambled eggs and something called a Tumblr; enough to get lost in the insistent, sunshine shaped cadence of her voice and forget about the perils of the week.
Plus, is the sun ever wrong?)
A month ago, Amity would have been alarmed at how easily she writes down her utter devotion towards a very human someone who gets beaten up on the regular by some ancient eldritch horror. Now the words just walk out of her quill and plant themselves firmly on the page like they couldn’t belong anywhere else, except maybe her paramour’s heart. That’s the problem with the moon falling in love with the sun. it’s annoying yet ineffable and inevitable. It’s also the easiest thing she’s ever done.
*****
Emira figures it out first. Which probably means that Edric knows as well, since Amity is pretty sure the twins share a single mind and keep passing it to each other like they’re in an eternal Grudgby match. However, he’s not the one who appears in her room in the middle of the night to scare her half to death. That’s all Emira.
“What,” Amity starts, one hand on her chest, other reaching instinctively for her training wand at the sight of a green cloud of smoke that’s materialized in her room out of nowhere, “in the world are you doing here?”
Her sister leans against the doorway, like she’s been there all along, takes in her room. Amity knows it’s clean, knows that there is not a speck of dust hiding beneath the floorboards or an errant cape strewn on her bed, and yet can’t help following Emira’s gaze anxiously as it travels across her neatly arranged trophy on the shelf, her table and the loose floorboard she now hides her diary under, before she comes to rest on hers.
“You never told us what happened at the library the other day,” she says, finally.
Amity blinks. “I did tell you what happened. Otabin turned into a monster and tried to sew me, literally, into a book. Had to be fought off.”  
She doesn’t continue with the subsequent thoughts in her head. Luz was there. Brave, idiotic Luz with a tendency of barging into adventures without a second thought. Luz, who I would’ve jumped into fire for. Luz, who made (makes) me laugh.
“You mean you and Luz?” Emira asks, innocently.
She bites the inside of her cheek, tries hard not to betray the smile that’s trying to creep up her face at the sound of Luz’s name. Nods.
“Luz is pretty cool, is she not?” Emira continues, and okay, there’s no reason to say someone’s name this much in one conversation. She ambles around her room, touching things at random, while Amity regulates her breathing. This was pathetic. The sound of someone’s name wasn’t supposed to make her feel like her heart was going to burst out of her, wasn’t supposed to climb up her throat and turn into absolute warmth all over her face.  
“Uh huh,” she manages. “I guess. Yeah. Eh. Yeah.” Too much too much too much too much.
Emira is suddenly in her face then. She places her hand on Amity’s shoulders, stares right into her eyes.
“Aw, Mittens,” she chuckles. “You’re adorable when you have a crush.”
And then she disappears.
Amity does manage to chuck the object nearest to her (which happens to be her training wand) at Emira’s retreating figure. Then she sits on the floor and curls up into an embarrassed ball. You know, as one does.
*****
The whole jumping into danger for Luz thing would be a lot more avoidable if Luz didn’t have an equally huge jumping into danger for Amity thing as well.
Which is such a godforsaken Luz thing to do. The idiot immersed herself in a cauldron full of sludge for Willow, who she had met minutes ago, of course she would take on her burden for Grom night. Of course she would somehow break the cage Amity had conjured up for her to come save Eda and Edric and Emira and of course she would help her make things right with Willow. If the girl had one coherent thought when she woke up every morning, it was probably this – Ooh, someone’s in trouble? Let me fix it!
(She does inevitably manage to turn a tiny cut into a gushing wound in absolutely no time at all, but would Luz even be Luz without shenanigans?)
Amity loves it. It gives her a heart attack, but she loves how Luz is always ready to help out a random stranger. She’s never met anyone with a heart bigger than Luz’s and a personality sunnier than hers.
(Also hasn’t met anyone who’s cuter, or prettier, or better-looking in a strange black-pink-frilly-yet-well-tailored attire, but let’s not go there)
Either way, it’s completely understandable that she immediately reaches for her wand when Luz climbs up onto her balcony after Grom night, ready to fight whatever it was that was evidently bothering her.
“No!” Luz holds up her hands, shoots her a quick smile. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“Oh,” she says, feeling herself relax. “So, um — why are you — here?”
“I could go! If you — wanted to, sleep or—”
“—no! Absolutely not!” Curse her for picking the absolute worst way to phrase a question. Why hadn’t she said Hey Luz, it’s so nice to see you, what brings you here? Or Hey Luz, please walk into my room and never leave.
(You know. Either works)
“I’m glad you’re here,” Amity says, then fumbles for something, anything, to add on to that revealing statement. “I mean, I couldn’t sleep anyways.”
Luz nods, and then giggles when Amity joins her onto the balcony and in the moonlight.
“What?” she asks, a little self-conscious. Also very charmed. Making Luz laugh was like some form of intoxicating elixir; Amity was hooked onto the feeling. Luz laughing made the world brighter.
(God, she was so gone for this idiot.)
“Your pajamas have tiny owls all over them,” Luz points out.
“Okay, that’s it!” she says, half-turning to go back into her room, when Luz’s hand grabs her.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Luz is still laughing. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. You look cute.”
Thank you, Luz. That’s very nice of you, Luz. You look nice in your strange clothes and oversized jacket as well, Luz. Those were all potential responses she could deliver.
Instead, she makes a choked-off noise that sounds suspiciously like hngg and closes her eyes.  
(She’s so gone for this idiot)
*****
“Does your moon look like the one here?” Amity asks, one night of many, when they’re sitting on her balcony staring up at the gigantic thing. There’s some quiet song about stars and lovers that’s playing on that infernal device Luz is always toting around, and Luz is next to her, her arm brushing against Amity’s, radiating warmth out from the point of contact.
Amity wouldn’t mind if she died happy right at this moment.
“It’s a little different, I think,” Luz tilts her head, regarding it thoughtfully. Then she picks up her phone, taps at it and holds it out in front of Amity. “Here, that’s the moon back home.”
It isn’t bluish like this one. Nor is it smooth, unblemished. It’s got marks all over it, remnants, Amity presumes of outside forces long gone by. Enraptured, she leans in for a closer look.
“It’s orange!”
“It was just that day,” Luz informs her. “It isn’t orange all the time.”
“It changes colors?” That was surprising. Also fascinating.
“Not — not all the time. It’s complicated, I guess.”
Amity likes the wide smile Luz holds when she talks about this. Luz is so expressive, she couldn’t hide her feelings to save her life. Most of the time in school, when being faced down by exasperated teachers Amity thinks of it as a curse. Now, however, at midnight, while it’s just the two of them, and she is privy to this unbridled display of everything that makes up Luz, she’s enamored.
“Why do you like the moon so much?” she asks, curious.
“Why do you like the sun so much?” Luz shoots back, playfully.
Oh. That one’s easy. “Because it turns everything golden. Because it’s airy and light. Because it makes me feel warm inside.” Because your eyes turn a particular shade in the sunlight and it’s hard to look at you directly, you shine so bright. Because every time the sun comes up, it is a precursor to me seeing you in school.  
Because it reminds me of you.
Luz looks at her, her eyes uncharacteristically wide and serious. “I like the moon because it makes me feel seen. Because it’s almost as lonely as I am. Because I can trust it enough to know that it’s mostly always there, even if it’s behind the clouds at the moment.”
They’re staring at each other, eyes wide, and Amity can’t breathe. She thinks of a lonely Luz staring up at the night sky back in the human world, talking to the moon, and it twinges, sorrowfully, like a ukulele out of tune, at a place deep underneath her chest. Some strange mixture of I’m sorry you had no one to talk to and I wish I’d been there, I wish I’d known you back then — I’d have listened to all your stories.  
“Plus,” Luz smiles, “it’s pretty.”
Amity blinks, and the spell is broken. Luz jerks, as if coming out of a dream, and stands up straight. Stammers, fumbles, makes a truly terrible joke about broomsticks and King and the annoying owl slash security guard slash housekeeper and runs off, leaving her completely confused.
*****
It’s when Gus finds out that Amity discovers that everyone and their parent has known about her Grometheus sized crush on Luz the entire time.  
“But why didn’t you tell me?” He’s still sulking about it in a corner, while Amity is faced down by Willow, Edric, Emira, Eda and King at the same time.
“Nobody told anyone, strange little child,” Eda waves a hand impatiently at him. “We just have eyes.”
Edric casts a momentary silencing spell on him, but Amity is pretty sure he’s mouthing the words “But I have eyes too”. Not that she’s too worried about Gus. He’ll be fine.... eventually. It’s more the fact that she now has to figure out which parts of her behavior have apparently clued in the whole world to the fact that her heart is waddling around in an idiot’s chest, most times.
“How about the fact that you can’t stop smiling when I bring her up?” She does not—
“Or that you did some pretty advanced magic trying to save her when that Slither-Beast had us?” How did he-
“You nearly combusted when she picked you up after our Grudgby match?” It wasn’t that bad.
She buries her head in her hands. Then looks up at King.
“Do you want to add anything?”
“No,” he replies. “I had no idea until today. I just didn’t want to be lumped in with Gus over there.”
She stands up, picks up her bag. “Okay, I am clearly at a disadvantage here—”
“Mittens, come back,” Edric grabs the back of her shirt, lets her flail for a minute before she gives up.
“I just — I just wanted to get her something nice for her birthday tomorrow, okay? And instead I’m being ambushed by the entirety of Boiling Isles.”
“But we are trying to help you, kid,” Eda tells her, now lounging on the couch with King on her lap. “God knows I love that child, but she has not an ounce of common sense in her. There is no way she’s ever going to figure out you’re in love with her if you don’t—”
“—whoa, whoa, whoa, love? That’s — please — completely crazy — idea. I’m not — in — love. That’s—”
She’s not. She’s not. So what if she keeps interrogating Gus on human things so she can impress Luz with her admittedly flawed knowledge on all things non-Boiling Isles? So what if she hasn’t slept more than five hours for the past one month because Luz comes over at night and they end up talking until past midnight? What does it even matter that Luz is the only person who she feels any form of innate comfort around? Or that every time she lends Luz her jacket when it gets chilly, the sight of an awkwardly clad Luz in that oversized thing makes her heart feel full to the point of bursting?  
That’s not love.  
(Some strange whisper echoes through her head, leaving echoes of But it could be behind)
Luz is the sun, okay? Bright and beautiful and adored by everyone. There’s no reason she could, or that she even should pay attention to Amity. Her affection is easily given, evenly split between all her friends and the citizens of the world; there’s no way Amity could ever hope to exert enough gravity to make Luz notice her, no way she could dare to hope for a greater portion in Luz’s long list of priorities.
(After all, does the sun even know that moon exists?)
*****
“Come on, Amity!”
She presses her lips flat, tries not to burst into laughter at the sight of an impatient Luz, vibrating by her side, hands opening and closing in the air.  
“I know you have a gift for me! And you’ve been hiding it from everyone! Nobody at the party knew!”
“Aren’t you tired from the party?” she asks, knowing the abrupt change in topic is just going to annoy Luz more. It had been a hectic affair, after all. Monster complications in the morning aside, the Owl House had seen an impressive number of guests who wanted to wish Luz a very happy birthday. An impressive number of guests along with an impressive number of gifts.
All except one.
“Nope. Not tired at all,” Luz tells her, promptly. “Completely alert and ready to receive the gift that I know you’ve gotten me but aren’t giving me yet, because you like messing with me.”
Amity twists her face into the visual equivalent of Who, me but conjures up a wrapped box either way. It falls into Luz’s outstretched hands, and then she has to tell her to shush unless they want Amity’s parents grounding her, forever.
(Not that it pleases her, much. She hates telling Luz to quiet down, because it tends to break her out of whatever spiel she is embarking upon, and Amity adores it when Luz rambles. Her eyes shine, and her hands move around animatedly, and her voice, her voice is so, so sweet she doesn’t mind it telling her about things she cannot comprehend)
She puts a hand on Luz’s right arm just as she’s about to unwrap it. “Luz,” she starts, already embarrassed, but determined to power through, “this, is probably not the best gift, and probably not even accurate as well, so you have to tell me if you don’t like it, okay? I’ve got other backup gifts I’d planned on giving you, so no worries, okay? Just—”
“Amity,” Luz cuts in, her excited smile morphing into something a little quieter, gentler, “I already love it.”
“You haven’t even seen it yet.”
Luz shrugs, like it doesn’t matter, still looking at her. Only resumes unwrapping it when Amity nods. Opens the box, and thankfully isn’t looking at her when Amity starts talking.
“I tried — to make it as close to the real thing as possible,” she says, watching Luz look at the off-white orb in wonder. “King helped. He went on something called the, the internet? And turns out your moon has a lot of craters! But it’s pretty regardless, so I tried — to. Yeah.”
She’s not exactly surprised when Luz leans over and hugs her. They’re sitting side by side so the angle’s a little off, but it’s not like she cares. Luz, beautiful, happy, Luz is here and she’s solid in her arms, and she can feel her smile against her neck and Amity is going to die—
“Thank you.” Luz disentangles herself from the embrace, but still pretty close. “I — Amity. Thank you. You didn’t have to.”
But I want to. I want to give you things, and I want to give you things that you like and that will maybe remind you of me. She places a hand on the orb between them, sees it light up.
“It also does this,” she informs Luz, unnecessarily. Then places a hand again, watches it turn orange. “Changes colors. Like yours does.”
She finally looks at Luz again, after a moment of complete silence, only to see her staring back. The look in her eyes is so — so intense (Amity can think of no other way to describe it), that it makes her want to turn away and cover her face. Like it’s going to burn her up if she keeps looking into her eyes.  
And then Luz quickly darts forward to press a kiss to her cheek, and Amity combusts.
(Only inside. You’d think it was possible, wouldn’t you? It was the Boiling Isles, after all. But no. Nobody had spontaneously combusted since Elaric the Great and as far as anybody could tell, it didn’t have anything to do with romance)
The kiss lands half on her half and half on her skin because she’s pretty sure Luz hasn’t exactly thought it through either. There’s a single, blissful moment of peace, and then then her heart goes into overdrive, beating away like it’s trying to catch a train.
Speaking of things trying to catch a train, however....
“I have to go!” Luz scrambles away, gets up. Her face looks red as well, and Amity, a little stumped, watches it happen, as though in slow motion. Even through her haste, she picks up the replica of the moon carefully and wraps it up in her jacket. “I’ll — see you tomorrow! At school! Where we both.... go. So. Yeah. Goodnight!”
“Goodnight?” Amity replies, softly.
Right before she’s about to climb down, Luz stops. Turns around, and very quickly says something that Amity for the life of her cannot figure out.
(Also, because she’s still in the tummy-woozy, mind-blank state of just having a kiss pressed to her cheek by the most perfect girl in the world)
“Can you say that again?”
“I, uh,” Luz slows down, deliberately, her voice coming out quieter. “Did you totally hate that?”
Oh.
Oh, gosh, the idiot.
Amity shakes her head, grins at her, hoping that says what she isn’t brave enough to say yet. “No, Luz. I didn’t hate that.”
*****
She keeps the picture of Luz’s tremulous, answering smile wrapped in the fist she presses to her heart a long time after she’s gone.
*****
And that’s how the story ends. With the sun smiling at the moon.  
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