Work Text:
Amity was special, and she knew it. She wasn’t trying to be cocky- really. It was the truth, plain and simple, and she was acutely aware that what she was born with was something most people wished on a star for.
She was also acutely aware, more and more lately, that she didn’t want to be special anymore.
It had been too much for a while, she thought. Maybe from the beginning. Maybe since her parents made her give up Willow’s friendship as if being special was the only thing that mattered in her friend, in her, in anyone. She wasn’t quite sure when it started, but it had, and now she was left with a desolate knowingness and crushing weight of the reality that it was her entire purpose to be special and chosen and perfect, and she did not know who she was or was supposed to be without that, and yet she wanted it gone anyway.
In the wake of this, so much had changed. She no longer bothered trying to be friends with Boscha or Skara, didn’t care whether she was top of the class (well- not as much as before), didn’t cover up guilt or insecurity or sadness with harsh words and cuts to the bone, metaphorical or not. She was not sure if everything was falling apart or falling together; all she knew was that her life was most certainly falling .
It was devastating and devastatingly beautiful. These two things did not cancel each other out, but sometimes it was hard to remember there was anything other than joy and sometimes it was hard to feel anything other than pain. Right now, she was consumed by the latter, confusion and desperation clawing their way up her throat and letting themselves free in ugly sobs.
She was curled up as small as possible in a dark corner of Hexside, crying her eyes out, and if this was not a sign that she’d never had a single shred of hope to be the perfect daughter everyone wanted, she didn’t know what was.
But no one would find her here, so she could hang on to the last bits of her dignity for a little longer.
“Amity?”
You have got to be kidding me were the words that stood out through the messy scramble of sputtering her mind produced hearing Luz’s voice, mere seconds after she’d so foolishly proclaimed no one would find her here.
“Luz,” she muttered once she calmed her racing heart somewhat and was able to breathe through the tears.
“Are… are you okay?”
What did it look like?! she wanted to scream from the back of her mind, but the majority was far too busy running around in circles over the fact that she’d even asked to say that, or anything else.
“Um.”
“Right, sorry. Stupid question.” Luz lowered herself so she was sitting next to Amity, close enough that the heart palpitations started right back up again. She tried not to look to her right, staring straight ahead. She could not look at Luz Noceda right now.
They sat in silence until Amity’s tears finally dried, though she could tell Luz’s mind was running through a million different things to say every second of it. That was just the way Luz was: always running a mile a minute, determined to do whatever she could whenever she could no matter what the circumstances.
Amity wondered vaguely through the haze of misty tiredness that procured itself naturally after too many tears how she even knew that about Luz. But that was probably her mind fishing for something that wasn’t there, some supernatural connection, a red string of fate tying them and her stupid dreams together.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Luz asked, and although Amity had not been sure what she would say in the aftermath, this was not even on the top one hundred of things she could have expected.
Did she want to talk about it?
She never had before.
“I’m supposed to be perfect,” she said without thinking, blushing red as she realized what she’d just said.
But Luz simply waited, looking at her with patience and kindness, a combination that made Amity’s face go from strawberry to a tomato in seconds. “Um,” she said, trying to collect her haywire thoughts.
“I don’t know. Being perfect is, like, my whole thing. Join the Emperor’s Coven. Be a charge of Lilith. Top of the class, friends with the best, respectful and smart and confident.”
“The type of person who becomes Grom Queen,” Luz said, no doubt thinking of their escapades that night. Amity’s cheeks heated again at the memory.
“The type of person who becomes Grom Queen and doesn’t have such a stupid fear that she has to ask her human friend to take her place,” she corrected, hugging her knees closer to her chest. “But it’s just… a lot, sometimes, and it’s not what I… it’s not what I want ,” she said. “Which is stupid, right? I’m doing so well. I’m special. I should be happy. And if I’m not, I should forget it, because if being perfect doesn’t make me happy, what would?” She sighed, turning away so she didn’t have to look at Luz as she spilled some of her deepest secrets on the Hexside floor at 10:21 in the morning.
“But lately, it… it doesn’t feel like enough - to be perfect but not happy. So I do stupid things like stop being friends with Boscha and start actually kind of liking Hooty.”
“You like Hooty?” Luz interrupted, eyes wide. “You’ve tried to kill him, like, ten times!”
“No! Well, maybe? He’s growing on me,” she said all in a rush. “But that’s not the point! I guess, I just… if I don’t do what’s expected of me anymore, am I still special? And if I’m not… what am I?” She shook her head, cheeks heating slightly. Had she really just spilled her guts to Luz Noceda ? Nice one, Amity. She’ll totally like you now.
“It’s stupid,” she said.
“No, it’s not,” Luz said, grasping Amity’s arm. She stared, eyes wide, cheeks bright red. “It’s normal. Not in, like, a ‘this is normal and everyone feels this way so stop whining’ kind of way, but a ‘this is a perfectly reasonable response to have to your parents being jerks’ way.” She grinned way too easily for someone who was still holding Amity’s arm and looking at her like she was normal when she looked like a tomato .
“You know, I went on a quest once,” she said, and Amity wasn’t quite sure what this had to do with anything, but she had to admit she was intrigued.
“Really?”
“Yeah! It was fake, and the guy who gave it to me actually just wanted to, like, kill me and Eda, but it was still a quest. I wanted to be special, I guess. Like you.”
“You are special,” Amity said before she thought, and although her mind filled with panic, she didn’t regret it. “You’re a human who can do magic, and you’re… you. You’re, like, weirdly cool and good at everything.” She looked away, certain she was cursed to perpetually have a bright red face around Luz.
“Ha. Thanks,” Luz said, and she seemed to mean it. “Well, special or not, I didn’t think I was. And I wanted a quest, but Eda and King thought that was stupid, so I was irrational and went on the wrong one. But when we got back to the Owl House, Eda reminded me that we can’t wait around for a quest or a wise old man to decide that we’re chosen. Then we’d be waiting forever, and who are we in the meantime?” She shook her head. “And, I mean, that’s kinda sad because it means I’ll probably never go on an epic journey with, like, swords and betrayal and a swoony love interest, but at the same time…”
She paused, and Amity tried to keep her mind set on topic rather than wondering what criteria Luz had for “swoony love interest” and whether or not there was a form and whether or not she could apply.
“I get to be chosen all on my own, you know? Maybe this is my quest!” She grinned, releasing Amity’s arm to spread her own wide.
She laughed softly. “That would be a really disappointing quest.”
But Luz just grinned. “Would it, though? ‘Cause I’m here, and you’re here, and I’m helping you! And I feel kind of awesome right now, not to brag, so what else does a quest really need?”
The swoony love interest? “I always imagined there’d be at least one sword,” she muttered, blushing again at Luz’s responding laugh.
“Okay, true, but. I guess it’s just like, everything is special if you make it special. You can’t wait around for a wise old man or even your own actions to prove that you’re a chosen one, because you’d never get there, and that would be really depressing. You have to decide for yourself that you’re chosen, and then everything you do is suddenly inspiring and magical and book-worthy. Which isn’t hard when we’re on an island that has magic, but still.”
Amity sat silently, working through everything Luz said in her head.
“We’re chosen ones when we choose ourselves,” she said finally, immediately shaking her head. “Sorry. That was stupid.”
“ Not stupid, ” Luz insisted. “I like that, actually. It could be, like, a slogan. Or a motto. That’s so cool, I wish I had a motto.” She sighed.
Amity laughed, surprising even herself with the sound so soon after she’d been in tears. “Thanks, Luz.”
“Anytime, Amity. Wanna go on a new quest with me to the abomination track? We’re already late.”
“Sure.” She got to her feet, brushing off her skirt casually. Before she could second-guess herself any more, she let the question out. “Who’s the love interest?”
Luz grinned, already bounding ahead. “Who knows? Maybe you are!”
Well, if Luz didn’t like tomatoes, she was screwed, but if she did…
Maybe you are!
How was she supposed to just go to her classes after that ?!