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shapard · 9 months ago

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Feather of Fate🕊️

Lucifer x seraphim!fem!reader

Soulmate arc

Michael is an Asshole

Near death experience

An Angel cries

Chapter 3 < Chapter 4 > Chapter 5

Lucifer was on edge.

What is Michael doing here?

Why Michael of all? The one that hates him more than anything.

Michael was standing in his home destroying the peace Charlie and you had.

The peace you enjoyed so much that he wanted to keep.

For the sake of you two.

His inner demon wanted to rip Michael limp from limp.

Its craving to use Michael’s blood to paint the town in pure gold with his blood.

Lucifers feather rustle out of anger.

“You would never pay me a visit Michael. We both know that.” After all it was his Fault.

Michael and Gabriel gave him the Idea to begin with.

And in the end they were the one who let him fall into this personal nightmare.

In hell.

Lucifer almost lost his life because of them.

Meanwhile confusing was written all over your face.

Brother?

Michael? The Arch angel?

Your brain was working on overload.

Slowly it started to click. You completely dismissed the thought that Lucifer is an arch Angel.

An offspring from God himself.

The Soulmate bond let you feel Lucifers rage, and his urge to protect you and his daughter.

It pushes you to stay put and to have faith in him.

Lucifer was still in a protecting pose to protect you.

He didn’t even realize when he was in front of you.

In a blink of an eye, he saw himself protecting you with his wings. Making them larger and covering you.

What was wrong with him?

Was it because you grew close in these last days, or was there more?

Has he caught feelings for you?

It made sense. Common logic.

His train of thoughts were Interrupted by Michaels speech.

“You’re clever as ever. But I do have to disappoint you. I’m not here for you, but rather for that seraphim behind you.” Michael’s gaze moved from Lucifer towards you.

His pure blue eyes bored into you, you felt almost naked under his stare.

You fiddled with the hem of your dress hoping it will help with your anxiety that started to build up in your system.

You heard an animalistic growl coming from Lucifer.

“You better get the fuck away Michael.”

It is terrifying. Lucifer is terrifying. You should be scared, but you aren’t.

You found this utterly attractive.

Lucifers horns were showing in all their might and all you could do was looking at them in awe.

Michael was still staring at you, Ignoring Lucifers threat.

It fueled Lucifers Anger even more, the lights started to flicker in the hotel.

Sweat pearled down from Charlie’s face.

She’s never seen her father that pissed before. Not even with Alastor nor Adam.

His eyes showing nothing but crimson red. But he remained calm in front of his older Brother.

It would’ve scared Michael if he was a mere lower-class Angel or a demon in Hell.

But he was the Arch Angel Michael, nothing scared him except his father God and Gabriel.

He started to smirk showing his pearl white teeth, and it settled off you.

Lucifer and Michael looked so similar, same hairstyle, same face.

There was a huge difference between these two though. Michael was cold, his aura was dark and with nothing but anger and Ignorance.

Meanwhile Lucifers Aura was warm, like a hot bath that was pure relaxation. His aura was white and pure.

Maybe it was the bond. But you see a foul soul when there's one.

But one thing they had in common, and that's their pride.

You don’t have a good feeling about this.

He wants something, but what?

What can be so special in here that an Arch Angel comes down here and confronts his brother?

What makes you so special that Michael would come down here?

Michael's predatory gaze was following your every movement making you want to run or plead for your life.

Lucifer widened his wings shielding you from the other Arch Angel.

You sigh in relief; you don’t want to spend any second longer with Michael's stare.

Not with the way he was looking at you.

Like a treat he could eat for breakfast.

“You should leave.” Lucifer’s eyes never left Michael’s.

All what he did was starting to laugh at Lucifer, “Aww, Little Lucifer protecting a fallen Angel How cute.”

In the next moment Michaels wings spread and he flapped them to create a hurricane like wind blow.

Wind blew softly in your face, Lucifers wings helped that you didn’t fly away from the force.

With a crash Nifty flew into the alcohol bar, leaving a mess with broken bottles. Husk frowned, “Oh great.”

The whole crew hid behind the staircase to take cover from the Arch Angel.

Michael whistled. “You seem to grow a liking towards that girl.” He pointed at him then at you, “what happened with Lilith? Cheating on her?” Lucifer gritted his teeth and took a step forward.

He wants to crush Michael skull on this hellish floor. Drawing an abstract painting in pure Gold on a red canvas.

“That’s none of your business.” Michael gasps at him, holding his mouth with his hand. Acting all shocked.

You could swear Lucifer was ready to bounce on him.

His devil tail flicked dangerously from side to side.

That’s what Michaels want.

He wants to see Lucifer loses control and letting his guard down.

He wants to piss his little Brother off. And Lucifer fell for it. His pride is taking over not thinking correctly.

Your feet carried you towards Lucifer, grabbing his shoulder to stop him. “Luci, don’t. That’s what he wants.”

He didn’t look your way but stopped in his track.

This disappointed Michael.

Deep.

Usually this works, it always worked. Why not now?

He came here to have fun with you and Lucifer, but you ruined it for him.

“You are listening now to a random bitch?”

This was the last straw for Lucifer. No one talks to you like that.

Lucifer flew up to get more speed when he flew back down to kick Michael in the stomach. That send Michael flying towards the nearest house.

Leaving nothing but ruins from the building.

Coughing he looked where Lucifer was, nowhere to be seen.

Confused he threw stones in every direction trying to hit Lucifer.

Lucifer laughed at this useless attempt. “That’s what you’re doing now? Throwing stones? Who's the Bitch now?”

His heart started to race out of fear.

He whipped his head frantic searching for his enemy.

A howling laugh vibrated through hell and a crash followed it.

Lucifer punched Michael hard into the floor letting Michael see black for a minute.

The earth shook under the force making you slump down at the sudden ground movement.

Michael spit out one of his Paper white teeth, it was covered in golden blood.

Michael realized that Lucifer got stronger and could easily get rid of him.

But that can’t be true, that’s not fair.

“Fuck.” He screamed as he heard Lucifers laugh from joy.

Michael panicked; he still couldn’t see Lucifer anywhere.

He was scared to death.

Sweat covered his injured now dirty white skin. His golden head piece had a slight crack in it.

How can I get away from here?

Then he remembers.

you.

You were his compass right now and Michael can use you.

Use you to cause mental damage to Lucifer.

Lucifer stepped out of the dark, stalking slowly forward like a predator to their prey.

Michael crawled back. His hand slipped on a small rock making him fall on his back.

Lucifer took the opportunity and charged forward. Michael dodged his attack just in time, flying towards your direction in 200km/h.

Searching for Lucifer in the distance, you saw someone flying towards you.

Your eyes widen in excitement, thinking it is Lucifer.

You walked slowly towards him, only to see that this is not your Lucifer.

This Aura, so dark and it was scary.

It was Michael.

You started to run to the opposite direction, you knew he would catch you easily if he wants to.

But you won’t give up without a fight.

Michael’s hair was all a mess, he looked like a maniac who lost control.

Blood all over his white attire and dirt all over him.

He grabbed your wrist lifting you up in the air.

You screamed, kicking your feet all around you.

For the first time in decades, you seem scared of heights.

Not having wings comes with fear from heights. Not being available to fly when you fell. Getting crushed by gravity wasn’t exactly how you planned on dying.

Your scream was quickly caught the attention from Lucifer, out of panic he teleported his way to you.

His tail swayed dangerous from side to side as he looked at the disgusting mutt of a brother holding you up with your wrist.

Pain and fear were written all over your demeanor and for the first time in this battle he felt scared.

Scared that he’ll do something to you.

Scared that if he interferes, you’ll die.

Michael Shaked you a bit to piss off Lucifer more. As if you were a mere piece of meat laid on display in an auction house.

Meanwhile he swung you around your sleeve of your dress slipped down revealing the apple mark on your wrist.

As fast as you could, you tried to pull the sleeve back up, but Michael stopped you.

Michael raised an eyebrow at you, what was your plan?

He took a glance at the thing you tried to hide, and oh did he never forget that mark.

You share the same mark like him.

Like Lucifer.

“Really? That’s all the fuss why you’re doing all of this?” You looked away in shame.

Michael was to say at least very confused. You were ashamed of being Lucifers soulmate? He would be too, but you clearly enjoy his presence way too much to hate this.

Then it clicks, “Ohhh, he doesn’t even know.” You bitt your lip, showing Michael that his speculation was Indeed right.

Lucifer was standing there at his friendlier form, observing the scenery above him.

He doesn’t know what?

You knew this would happen at one point.

You hid it very well the couple days, even though your heart was aching for that man. To tell him the truth.

But you were afraid. Will he reject you? Or does he even enjoy your presence, when he finds out the soulmate bond makes him feel that.

Michael pulled you in front of his face, you two were so close that you could feel his breath on your lips.

“You’re not better than your mother. To keep a secret that huge and so small,” His hand stroked your mark, it started to burn in your wrist making you scream in terror.

It felt like someone was burning a piece of iron into your cold skin making your blood underneath boil.

You felt hot and lightheaded.

You wiggled your whole body, trying to get out of Michaels grasp.

The tears that fell out of your eye collides on Lucifers face; his clawed fist clenched hard the claws shoving into his palm drawing blood.

Michael ripped a piece off your long-sleeved dress showing your mark towards Lucifer.

Lucifers eyes widen, no that couldn’t be.

He searched in your eyes the answer, but you looked away, ashamed.

And it hurts him. Why didn’t you tell him?

He unconsciously rubbed his mark on his wrist which started to itch since Michael touched yours.

Now everything made sense for him.

Why he felt that kind of euphoric, why he felt so in love. Why his heart ached for you every time you’re not there.

That’s why he was so attracted to you.

And you lied to him. God knows how long.

He is mad at you, but he won’t lose you out of his anger.

You were his last chance, his nemesis.

He must get rid of Michael before he can deal with you.

Meanwhile you struggled in Michael death grip on your wrist. Your hand felt numb with no blood getting pumped in it.

“I can’t kill you Y/n. But I can cause you pain which will hurt him even more.” His eyes shifted towards Lucifer smiling from ear to ear.

His laugh that rippled through his ribcage made you cringe.

His hands let you fall out of his grip. Before you could relax, thinking he would let you go. He grabbed your hair making you wince.

He pulled out a little dagger and pressed it against your neck. “Let’s see if your blood is still golden.”

Lucifer flew as fast as he could towards you stretching his arm towards Michael and you. Michaels words echoing in Lucifers brain. Let’s see if your blood is still golden.

But it was too late.

His knife slashed a cut on your neck, golden blood started to gush out and you started to choke on your own blood.

“No!”

It was hard to breath, every time you tried to take the oxygen in your lungs, blood filled them which made you cough and choke every time.

Michael let you go, disgusted that your blood spilled on his cloths.

He removed his golden strand out of his face smiling widely at Lucifer.

“Next time I make sure to you two will never see each other. Farewell.” With that he teleported away leaving a mess in hell behind him.

Lucifer punched into the cement where Michael was standing.

His heart stopped when he heard you choking from your own blood.

Ache

Rushing to your side he pressed on your wound tight. “Please, please don’t die.”

All you could feel was pain, and the warmth of Lucifer by your side.

And there it was again, the warmth of his powers flowing into your system.

it was calming. Making you almost forget the pain you’re in.

Lucifer was on the edge of crying.

Forgetting that you didn’t tell him that you were his soulmate.

All he could think about is that you were slowly dying.

He feels useless.

Charlie watched the scene, feeling bad for her dad.

He told her that he has a soulmate, someone who is his other half.

But since he fell, he’d never see them.

It was sad to see his depressed expression when he thought about it.

But now he found out in the middle of the battlefield that he found her. And now he may lose someone precious. His other half. The reason he still had faith.

She looks at her father saying a mantra all over and over again.

Please don’t die, please, please Y/n don’t leave me. Please.

He felt alone like he did when Lilith left him, but this is not the same.

You’ll never come back. Leaving him with an empty void in his heart that cannot be filled.

He survived the void that Lilith left in him.

But not you, his soulmate that helped him without even knowing.

Every night he thought of you. Not even in a sexual way.

He held the duck he made for you tight to his body to feel comforted in some kind of way.

And it all makes sense. But it may be too late.

Here you were, slowly dying in his hands. Passed out from your blood lost.

His tears dropped down on your lips making you feel the salty sweet substance.

An Angel cries.

Your neck wound started to close making him sigh in relief.

you have lost a lot of blood, and it was still life threatening but the bleeding was stopped.

You have a chance to survive this.

He stroked your cheek softly removing the dirt that was on your face.

He pressed his forehead on yours in a comforting way.

“Please wake up.”

A/n: 👀 Soooo, how y'all doing? Thank you to all who are writing so sweet comments<3

Hope you enjoyed this chapter❤️

💫

@ayanazoldyck @marydragneell @lunaryasha @cherry-cola-100 @lxkeee @latersgates-steven @fandom-crashlanding @cupidsgift

#y/n #hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #female reader #angel #michael hazbin hotel #shapard

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qvrcll · 1 year ago

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nsfw, fem reader + borderline phone sex

teasing coriolanus snow through a line whilst he’s out parading himself as a peacekeeper with new responsibilities and goals? absolutely.

the ordeal is messy at first. you’re not sure if this is a good idea in the first place (considering the whole good man act he’s piecing together to get back to the capitol, so fragile already) but what is there to lose? you miss him terribly and on the off-chance, you get to catch him off guard, much to his dismay.

so, it starts.

“snow, there’s a caller out for you,” a stone faced peacekeeper yells, voice like gravel. really, not a mouth for conversation, so snow goes as much as to nod before reaching the relevant station. his hands are clammy, oddly, and he wishes the call were from back home. tigris, grand’maam… you.

you, who has kept his faith in this place with just images in his mind. memories.

but to hope is to lose and to lose is beneath him - so, snow keeps his wits about him. he finds a seat and sticks to it like glue, spreading his back and finding space for his feet as the machine ahead whirrs gently. there’s no one here at this point of time - calls are short and rare, which reminds him to not bide his time too much, to not panic and, admittedly, he’s never felt his heart in his throat until now.

“hello?” his voice is crisp, weak in its echo.

there’s cracking on the other end, before a face blends within the static, a smile already tinged in the viewer’s feedback. teeth he recognises by sight alone, smile he recognises by warmth alone.

it’s you.

“coryo? god, is this thing working?” you gasp, and he would laugh if the urge to have you wasn’t overwhelming his senses. his nose was already twitching, reddening with an onslaught of emotions as he could hear your words transmitting clearly over the machine’s whirr, “oh my god! coryo!”

the two of you break into smiles and he can sense you on the cusp of tears - not that strange, knowing he’s been away from you for far longer than he ever has. the remedy is always sweet: he coos at you, reassures you.

“have you been crying? what, you missed me?” he asks, clutching the receiver tighter and then loosening his grip a little. there’s a smile in his voice, but you can already see it.

you shift, curling the telephone cord around your finger and nodding, “of course i’ve missed you, coryo. have been missing you so much,” your voice is dripping with the spell of his absence, to which snow sadly smiles at. of course you’d been missing him.

but then, something slips up. time, his breath or the strap of the slip you’re wearing - pretty pink, a rememberable flush of salmon that hugs your body firmly, from what he can see. he almost misses it, almost chooses to focus on the wall nearby instead, out of courtesy. because it was surely a mistake, a little slip up (ironically). but when you fail to pull it up, instead staring at him like he was the loon here, he clears his throat.

“w… well, how have you been?”

“good.” (did you just scoot closer or did he imagine that?)

“how’d tigris… (cough) been?”

“she’s great.” (okay, your thigh definitely hitched up on purpose.)

two questions and he’s already losing his mind. he knows there are no others in the room, but he feels wholly lost, a string of yarn being pushed against nimble fingers - and when he finally looks at you, a warning painted in those azure eyes, he can finally see what you’re getting at. your face is prettily composed, like he remembers, but there’s heat in your shoulders. an ache that he wants to get beneath, curl against his fingers.

he steels himself, gripping the receiver harder and feeling his jaw tighten under the effort of staying calm, “what are you doing?”

you act dumb, of course. there’s that smile - same as before. sickly sweet and barely squashed off of your face as you stare at him, “doing what, coryo?”

“you don’t think i’m dumb, do you? i can see what you’re trying and it’s-“ he casts a wary look behind his shoulder, and spots no one, not a soul, “it’s unfair.”

“unfair?”

“precisely.”

“is this unfair too?”

before he can even squint at that, ask you what exactly you mean, you do your worst: drop the slip and reveal what’s beneath. the skin of your chest is as he remembers, your fingers skirting against your nipples. it all makes his leg jump, his heart clinch uncomfortably under all those bones and all that blood. he’s already hissing, moving closer.

“what the hell are you doing?” he asks, though there’s no malice in his voice. no reprimand. just a small fear and a large amount of desire that spills into a small whimper when you lean back and have the decency to lower your fingers past your belly and beneath.

“i missed you coryo,” you practically eat the words, moaning softly into the receiver as you work yourself open until it’s quite enough. but it never is - you know this and so does snow. one of his many faults, his dexterity that is - pretty, nimble fingers that reach parts of you that need teasing, pushing. fingers that go farther and don’t come back until you’ve had your fill. but you’re making do with what you have and that’s partly why he grits his teeth.

he knows he can do it better.

“talk to me,” he licks a stripe against his lips, eyes zoning in on you. he can’t see below for certain, but with the soft sounds that leave you, he’s plenty satisfied. besides, the thought of those stone faced peace-keepers stepping in and taking an eyeful of you gets him angrier than he would like to be, “how does it feel? good? better than mine?”

“no, no, never-“ you gasp, craning your head backwards and angling your body so you’re resting your weight on your free elbow, “never, coryo - ah - you’re better. need your fingers.”

he feels a strain in his pants. a pain is forming in his dick and the blood is rushing soon down, and he knows this is unruly. unadjustable. he could lose his position. but maybe that’s the thrill in it, isn’t it? closing an eye to his duties is rather easy, and as he palms his dick through the svelte material, the groan that leaves him is inarticulate and roughly pushed out of his throat.

“poor thing needs me all the time, don’t you?” he gasps, palm catching on that sensitive area down below, “have you been doing this - fuck - since i’ve been away?”

he spreads his legs, palming harder and somehow, messier. though the static betrays him, the feedback in the device in front of him does him wonders: your face, contorted just the way he loves it, your fingers inventing some thick, loud sound the more you work your way into your cunt, the weight of your release hung above the two of you like a threat.

“just my fingers - ah - been using ‘em” you cry out, voice high suddenly, “miss you so much. i can’t do this. i need you here - ngh - coryo!”

the noise that leaves you is heavy and it hits him so hard his dick throbs in his pants, so he presses harder onto the muscle and moans painfully slow.

“shit - miss you so much, sweetheart,” he picks up his ordinary pace, “when i’m back home, i’ll give it to you good.”

“promise?”

“fuck - i promise.”

the seconds of orgasm are embarrassing. he clutches the screen and stares open-mouthed at you. wishes he could kiss every bend and curve, every dot and line, but as soon as he feels himself about to spill into his pants, the line cuts. there’s a darkness washing over the screen and he can no longer hear your voice through the wasted receiver.

it clicks - those stupid call times. he’d probably used all his minutes.

he clenches his fist and loosens it up, tossing the receiver back into its apt position. and as much as he is exasperated as he is disconcerted, he composes himself.

several minutes later, a peace-keeper enters. stone faced and dull, just as he remembers them.

“time’s up, snow. get back to your room.”

snow nods, pinching one look at the dark screen of the feed before walking out. as he steers clear of the room, a thought occurs: he better get back home quick so he can fill you up the way you both like best.

(requests for snow / tbosas are open!)

#coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #tbosas x reader

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elexaria · 10 months ago

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homebody! reader x könig drabble

kö would be such a good partner idc like i have brainrot about being his cute little housewife and hes my favourite grumpy but tender middle aged man I NEED HIM

you had never really been the type of person to settle down, always scoffing at the thought of being a house body, pottering around cleaning and doing boring shit.

but for him, its different.

you were used to könig’s deployments by now, and though you still feared for his life when he was on longer missions, you had enough trust and faith in him to know he would always come home back to you.

“as if i would ever leave your side, schatzi” he often hummed into your crown, taking in the gentle smell of your shampoo as he’d nuzzle into your locks.

“but what if—“

“Wenn ich für jedes Mal, wenn du sagst “aber was wäre, wenn“ einen Euro hätte .. i would be a rich man.” (if i had a euro for every time you said “but what if”..)

when könig proposed you leaving your job, adamant he could afford for you to stay at home, you complained about how boring it would be when he wasn’t home. he swore up and down that, believe him, you would never be bored. you wanna go see your friends and have cocktails? just let him know, your kö will look after you. you think the kitchen could do with a revamp? hey, so long as you don’t throw away the nice fancy blender he got for his smoothies, he doesn’t care.

and, weirdly, you enjoy cleaning now. it breaks up the monotony of the wait, the excitement building up inside you as you know he’ll finally be home. and that’s what makes it easier to get through the mundane house cleaning, knowing he gets to come home to a clean home after months of grime and sweat.

with that, you still find yourself twitch as you hear the front door unlock. könig lets out a sigh as he drops his duffle bag on the floor, his eyes closing for a moment as he physically relaxes just from taking one step into his home.

almost as if he has a sixth sense for you, könig walks into the kitchen. with three large paces, he’s towering over you. black grease paint smudged around his eyes, his sniper hood and mask in his hands. he hasn’t maintained a decent shave, wry blonde stubble peppering his cheekbones. with a fond smile, you reach out to gently stroke his cheek.

he doesnt even smile back, he just grunts as he lowers himself down, wrapping his bulky arms just around your figure, eyes closing as he rests in the crook of your neck. his musky smell is a familiar one, one hes often annoyed about and insists its not okay for him to smell like that around you. you laugh at how anal he is about hygiene, insisting he doesn’t even smell bad, it’s a strangely comforting smell. and it kind of turns you on, in a weird way.

but that’s besides the point. he’s so tired, his body softening as he holds you. your hand strokes the back of his head, fingernails gently raking his scalp with a comforting touch. he’s melting, right there, just for you. he lets out a few grumbles, ones you’ve come to learn are ones of satisfaction. god knows what he’s saying, it’s neither german nor english. gernglish?

and that’s why you don’t mind the lonely nights where he’s away, where it’s only you laying in bed, consciously aware of how big the room feels without könig’s large bouldering frame to fill it.

because in these tender moments, where he’s resting with his head on your shoulder while his arms wrap around you from behind, eyes closed as you make him a comforting meal to welcome him back, you don’t even remember what it was like to even be alone in the first place.

#elexaria writes #cod x reader #könig x reader #könig #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #könig x y/n

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imaginespazzi · 7 months ago

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Part 6: Leaps of Faith

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 7

I hope that you catch me, cause I'm already falling (you put your arms around me and I'm home)

(In which a writer who can see the end approaching starts building towards that ending)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst and Fluff

Words: 8.0K

TW: Swearing, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Good evening my lovelies <3. Happy Sunday and Happy Mothers day! First of all, I wanna thank y'all for being ever so patient with me. I know I've been pretty bad about updating lately and y'all have been so sweet with your asks and I really appreciate it. This fic is very close to its end. I probably could have ended it with this chapter but there's a very specific ending I want to write so this one is more of a self-indulgent filler but I think y'all will like this one. There will be one more chapter and then an epilogue of sorts. Once again, there are most likely logistical inaccuracies. I'm not even gonna lie, the editing on this one is shoddy so there are definitely grammar errors/typos. For now, ignore them and I'll go fix them later. As always, even if we're near the end, feel free let me know what you liked, what you didn't and anything you'd like to see before we get to the end. Have a wonderful week my angels <3

April 2024

“It’s a little early for ice cream hon,” Azzi jumps at the sound of her mother’s voice, startled eyes following the direction of the noise to find Katie leaning against the kitchen door, with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s a little early to scare the living bejesus out of me mom,” she says with a hand to her chest.

If possible, Katie’s eyes roll even further at her daughter’s sarcastic tone as she makes her way over to the kitchen counter. She’s gotten herself a spoon and everything, ready to steal some ice cream for herself, when she notices the flavour. Next to her, Azzi stiffens.

“You hate mint chocolate chip Az,” Katie says quietly.

“I couldn’t find the strawberry ice cream,” Azzi defends stubbornly, her face taking on a guarded expression.

Katie walks over to the freezer, opening it and pointing at the strawberry ice cream, Azzi’s favourite, that’s sitting in plain sight, “it’s right there.”

“Well,” Azzi splutters, “I’m trying something new,”.

“You hate trying new things.”

“I’ve grown up I guess.”

“Azzi.”

“Mom.”

“Azzi, why are you eating ice cream you hate at 4 in the morning?” Katie finally asks in her best mom voice, sighing when she gets a mumbled response from her daughter, “in words Az, please.”

“Paige likes it,” Azzi admits slowly, and before Katie can say anything, before Azzi can dwell on what she’s said, she launches into a rant, “god knows why. Actually I know why because she’s stupid and weird and likes the dumbest shit. Who the fuck likes mint? Who the fuck likes mint and chocolate together? Gross. This shit is disgusting. It tastes all wrong. Paige is just-,” Azzi throws her hands up in the air, “she just doesn’t understand that some things don’t belong together. They can’t. They’re too different and it just- there’s a fucking balance to things you know? And she just- she doesn’t get that. It’s just- it’s not meant to be.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re eating it right now,” Katie says carefully.

“Because I miss her,” the truth bursts out of Azzi like an erupting volcano, burning itself into every crevice of her skin, “because for some fucking reason I don’t hate the taste of mint chocolate chip. Because maybe they do go together and maybe I’ve been the stupid one this whole time.”

Since she’d stepped out of the hotel in Cleveland, all Azzi could think about was going back, saying fuck it to all the useless logic she’d come up with and going back to the only thing in her life that had ever made sense her Paige. But as it often did in that clichéd battle between head and heart, her head had won out. And she’s never questioned why her head wins so much, why she’s always chosen to listen to the practical side of her brain, until now. Until now when the urge to turn back time, to make herself stay in that hotel room, is all that’s consumed her for the last week.

“Azzi,” Katie wraps her arms around the younger girl, “what happened with you and Paige?”

Azzi hesitates for a second and then everything’s spilling out of her lips, the good, the bad, the inbetween, all of it tumbles out like an uncontrollable waterfall. There’s something freeing about being able to say it all out loud, something freeing about the tears Azzi finally lets roll down her cheeks. She grips the edge of the counter to keep herself from keeling over, starting to feel herself crumble under the heaviness of all these stupid feelings.

“It shouldn’t be this hard,” Azzi whispers, “we used to be so easy.”

“Oh Az,” Katie rubs a thumb against her daughter’s cheek, “you used to be kids. You’re all grown up now. It’s always harder when you’re older.”

“Well, I don’t like it. I just want to be the way we were again.”

“So why don’t you?” Katie asks like it’s the most simple solution in the world and Azzi shoots her mother an exasperated look.

“What do you mean? How do we even do that? We can’t be just friends again. We tried. Were you not listening at all?”

“Azzi, sweetheart, you’ve never been just friends.”

“That’s not true,” it’s a futile attempt at arguing against what’s become more of a fact than an opinion in Azzi’s life. It’s a truth she’d let herself acknowledge once and then buried deep within her, scared that once unleashed, it would ruin everything. Except, it turns out, even without it, things had still turned to dust.

“Do you remember when you came home from Minnesota that first summer with Paige? You were either moping around or you were on call with her. There was no in between. It got better eventually, the moping stopped but the calls? I think you fell asleep on facetime with her almost every night. And you were tired every morning after, you barely had time to eat before school but every time I suggested that maybe you cut back, that was never an option,” Katie smiles fondly, “it’s when I knew.”

Azzi does remember, remembers talking about everything and nothing, remembers laughing and crying, remembers when Paige’s breathing was the only lullaby that could relax her into sleeping. And she remembers battling with that voice in her head, the one convinced there’s something more, silencing it with I’d do this with anyone. But that wasn’t true then and it’s not true now because Paige has never been just anyone, never been just a friend. Because even if Azzi’s never been brave enough to say it out loud, Paige is and has always been everything.

Despite knowing the answer and maybe dreading it just a little bit, Azzi asks it to her mom anyway, “what did you know?”

“That she was your person. You were too young, I couldn’t call it love just yet but I knew Paige was different then, she was yours in a way none of your other friends were. You were different around her,” Katie nudges her daughter, “Azzi you’ve always been just a little bit in love with her and she’s always been just a little bit in love with you too. The two of you have just been a matter of time.”

Azzi closes her eyes, and unlike other people, she doesn’t see darkness or little spots of light, she just sees Paige. Her mother’s words wash over her, like acid in her self-inflicted fight the feelings wounds and yet, the idea of she’s loved me too feels like a band-aid being delicately placed on the scars of her heart.

“And place,” she whispers, eyes still closed, “we never seem to get time and place right.”

“Why do you need to?”

Another exasperated look is sent Katie’s way at that question, “we live on different sides of the country mom, what do you mean why do we need to?”

“I mean the two of you have barely ever been in the same place. But you made it work, when you had even less, when you felt even less. But you’re adults now. You have other resources now. And I know timing is difficult but- it’s you and Paige. What are you so scared of Azzi?”

Azzi sucks in a deep breath, “what if Paige runs away again?”

“What if you run away again?”

“Excuse me?”

“Who was the last person to walk away, Azzi?,” Katie sighs when Azzi is adamantly silent, “I know she hurt you by leaving. I know she hurt you by pushing you away. But you did the same thing. You chose UCLA,” Katie holds up a hand when a frustrated Azzi tries to interrupt, “and it was the right decision for you Azzi and she should have supported it. But that doesn’t meant you didn’t hurt her and then you chose Zoe-”

“I didn’t choose Zoe-”

“Yes you did Azzi. Sweetheart you’re my daughter and I will always tell you the complete truth even if it’s not what you wanna hear. And the truth Azzi is that Paige might have hurt you in 101 different ways but that doesn’t mean you didn’t hurt her back in 99 different ways too.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Azzi whispers, “that’s the problem mom. It hurts when she hurts me but it hurts even more when I hurt her. I don’t want that for us but I just- I just don’t know how to stop it without stopping us.”

“You haven’t even tried, baby. Paige held out a hand and you ran away.”

“She left first. How am I supposed to trust that she won’t just do that again," all that’s missing from Azzi’s stubborn whine is a foot stomp.

“Because she came back. It took her a little bit, I know, but she came back and she’s ready to fight, the question is, are you?”

“Why are you defending her?” Azzi splutters, “who’s side are you even on?”

“There are no sides to this sweetheart. The two of you are on the same side. So maybe instead of fighting against her, take that hand, fight with her.”

***

The WNBA draft is a momentous occasion this year. With a hyped draft class like no other, and the promise of even greater ones in the future, there’s a sense of celebratory hope dangling in the air. When the invite had first come in, Azzi had known the same one would be sent to a certain blonde in Connecticut as well. And a part of her had wanted to hide herself away from that possible collision, but every other part of her wanted nothing more than to get just a glimpse of the blonde.

One moment Azzi is surrounded by flashing cameras and the echo of her name on everyone’s lips, the next everything around her is fading away her eyes meet Paige’s on the other end of the WNBA draft orange carpet. It’s nothing new really. Since she’s met her, the blonde has commandeered all of Azzi’s attention whenever she’s nearby. Sometimes it feels like all of her other five senses fade away to give birth to a secret sixth one, one that’s solely dedicated to Paige, one that’s terrifyingly all-consuming. And yet, despite the heaviness of we’ve said too many goodbyes, for the first time in what feels like eternity, Azzi feels like she can finally breathe.

And then Paige looks away.

And Azzi’s back to struggling for air.

It’s selfish of her, she knows, to expect something, not when she’d been the one to leave them stranded on different islands. But Azzi doesn’t seem to think logically when it comes to Paige and even as she tries to turn her focus back to posing for the camera, every inch of her body is dangerously aware of the blonde’s every move, just a mere few feet away from her. Her conversation with her mother is echoing in her head, giving rise to dangerous desires of what if i grabbed your hand and we ran away together.

Paige is a natural on the orange carpet, all dazzling smiles and twinkling eyes. She glides through it, inching closer and closer to Azzi, but never giving away any sense of discomfort. And if it was anybody else, maybe they’d never catch onto the nerves hidden beneath Paige’s facade of calm, cool and collected. But once upon a time Paige used to be Azzi’s favourite puzzle and she has every part of the blonde committed to memory. It’s in the way Paige’s teeth gnaw at her lips for the briefest of seconds, in the way her right index finger is begging to tap a beat against where her hands rests on hips, in the way she’s blinking just one too many times.

And then with one more heavy footed step from Paige, the distance between them is barely a couple inches and they let out identical breaths of air, both of them keeping their focus on the cameras in front of them. It’s loud, too loud, and still all Azzi can focus on is the sound of Paige breathing. The air around them is thick with tension. It feels a bit like they’re silhouetted against a sky made of words they’ve left unsaid and clouds of all the bitter mistakes they’ve made are hanging over their heads. And when their pinkies brush together, and a jolt of electricity sends shivers of I miss you more every day again her skin, Azzi questions if she’s ever made the right decision when it comes to Paige.

“Wait wait wait,” Ari cuts in, as she squeezes herself in between the two of them, “I wanna get in between the two of you.”

A harsh cry of no sits heavily on the top of Azzi’s tongue as the older woman forces a break in whatever little bit of contact she’d had with Paige. She feels a little pathetic, the way every little inch of her skin is craving for that touch back. It had been nothing, a barely there moment and still Azzi thinks, when she goes to bed tonight, if that was all she’d get of Paige, then it’ll be the only thing that’ll feature in her dreams.

“Alright one with just Paige and Azzi,” Ari directs the media, stepping out of the way and pushing the two younger girls together. And it’s laughable that a little brush of their pinkies had Azzi feeling any type of way because when they’re suddenly pressed together, every inch of Paige’s side fitting into Azzi’s like it belongs, the way the world suddenly bursts with light and colours makes Azzi wonder if every moment without Paige has simply been monochrome.

It comes to them naturally how to pose together, arms winding around each other’s waist, heads involuntarily leaning against the other’s. And the smiles might be for the cameras but Azzi knows hers is the most real it’s been all night. It might be temporary, she might lose Paige in the chaos, but for now Paige is here and Azzi has learned how to be content with whatever little she can get.

As the media moves to capture other people, the logical thing to do would be to separate, to let go of each other. But instead they stand there, still completely wrapped around each other, heart rates in sync as they breathe in each other’s presence. And then Paige’s hand falls from the small of Azzi’s back to tangle their fingers together and they let out identical sighs of relief, something so cathartic in the purposefulness of that touch. Everyone is too busy to notice that the two of them have fallen into a whole other world, one where there’s only two of them and every emotion that they’ve only reserved for the other. There’s no words exchanged as Paige guides the two of them out of the spotlight, somehow keeping their hands clasped together in secret, despite the ever growing crowd. And Azzi doesn’t know this building at all, doesn’t have the faintest clue where she’s being led to, but as long as it’s Paige pulling her along, she doesn’t care where, she thinks she’d go anywhere.

Paige stops abruptly in a secluded corridor, turning to fully face Azzi. And the sincerity in the blonde’s crystalline blue eyes, as they roam every inch of Azzi’s body before coming to fixate on her face, steals the air away from Azzi’s lungs. Paige has gotten better over the years at building walls, but with every new lock she places on her emotions, there’s a key to open them that seems to always find its way to Azzi. In the delicate golden hue, Paige shines brighter than any star ever could and in the dim light Azzi can make out every bit of hurt and love and please can we just have this moment that Paige can’t put into words.

“Hi,” Azzi whispers softly, hands itching to reach out and caress Paige’s skin.

“Hi,” Paige says back, even quieter. She stares at Azzi as if she’s memorising every little detail and then her face crumbles. Azzi feels her heart drop at the single tear that trickles down Paige’s cheek as she lets out a broken whimper. And this, this unspoken power they seem to have over each other, the uncanny ability to just hurt each other without any bit of effort, is what scares Azzi the most. It’s too much. They shouldn’t be able to do this.

“Paige,” Azzi’s fingers twitch but she hesitates, not knowing if it’s the right thing, “fuck- P what’s wrong?”

Paige doesn’t reply, eyes wandering down to where Azzi’s trying to keep her hands still against her sides and when she looks back up, her eyes are bloodshot, “what’s wrong? What’s not wrong Azzi? You won’t even fucking touch me.”

“I didn’t-” Azzi struggles to speak, “I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

“Can you just- fuck- can you just stop overthinking things for once in your life. Of course I want you to touch- you know what nevermind. This was a bad idea. You made yourself clear and I’m just- fuck- I should- I should just go.”

She sounds adamant enough but all it takes, when Paige moves to leave, is the strangled cry that leaves Azzi’s lips. The sound is enough to pull Paige right back in. She takes one look at the tears brimming in Azzi’s eyes. And then she’s pushing Azzi against a wall, hands on either side caging the younger girl between her body and the hard surface behind. She presses their foreheads together and Azzi feels like every part of her might just be a part of Paige too.

“I miss you. I miss you so fucking much. It’s barely been two weeks and I- fuck- Azzi- I’ve missed you every single second and now you’re here and I still miss you. And it really fucking hurts.”

“I’m sorry,” Azzi whispers, finally letting her hands cup Paige’s cheeks, and it’s worth it for the way Paige seems to completely melt into her touch, “I’m sorry I keep hurting you. I keep thinking I’m doing the right thing but- I don’t know- I feel like I’m always doing the wrong thing when it comes to you. I don’t- I don’t know what to do.”

“Just let me be with you,” Paige’s voice is wrecked with desperation as she presses herself as close to Azzi as possible, “I’ll be your whatever- whatever you give me- whatever you want- I just- I just want you Az- whatever little bit you’re willing to give me- I’ll take it- and if you want me to wait- fuck Azzi- I’d wait forever- you know that right? However long it takes, baby. Just want you- just want us.”

Leaps of faith are scary. Azzi’s never been great at taking them, too cautious, too much of a worrier. She’s more of a step back from the cliff kind of person. If she doesn’t jump, she can’t fall. But here’s the thing, when she was fourteen, Azzi jumped off of her first hypothetical cliff. It had been on a plane, when after avoiding one too many deep questions, Azzi had admitted to a girl she barely knew,that maybe she could like girls. It was the first time she’d ever let herself acknowledge that truth about herself and the girl next to her was a stranger but there was something about her, something that screamed i’ll hold your hand and if you jump it’ll never be alone. And ever since then, that girl, Paige, has always been there. Hands outstretched, ready to jump off any ledge. Because if there’s hard ground underneath, then they’ll learn how to fly together and if there’s water, they’ll figure out how to swim. With Paige there has always been the promise that, whatever it is, they’ll figure it out together. And it’s with that promise in mind, that Azzi takes the leap of faith.

“Me too,” Azzi whispers, heart beating erratically.

“What?” Paige searches Azzi’s face, as if waiting for her to take it back.

“Us. You. You and me. I want that too,” a ghost of a smile begins to creep onto Azzi’s face, and for the first time in god knows how long, she feels feather light, a little bit like she’s floating on a rainbow.

“You mean it?” Paige asks earnestly, hands moving from the wall to clutch at Azzi’s waist, “don’t play-Azzi- okay- you mean it for real?”

“I do. I want this- I want this so much and I’m still- I’m still really scared and maybe it’ll be a disaster but I- I want to try. With you.”

Azzi used to think she knew all of Paige’s smiles. Her small, not quite fake, but only for cameras and people she didn’t quite know, smiles. Her just for my friends smile that was filled with mirth and childlike joy. Her basketball smile that transformed into a smirk when she got too cocky. Her only for Drew smile, soft and filled with so much adoration and pride. Her Azzi smile, the one only the brown-skinned girl gets to experience, a smile that made Azzi’s her heart swell with love. But the smile that stretches across Paige’s face now, is one Azzi’s never seen before. This one throws Azzi’s entire world of balance, so bright, so big, so full of emotions. If she could, she’d tattoo that smile onto her skin forever.

“We’re really doing this?” Paige asks, still a little stunned. It wasn’t what Azzi had planned for tonight. She hadn’t really had any plans for what would really happen. But then Paige had walked in and all Azzi could see was forever she was tired of fighting against.

“We should take it slow okay-” Azzi wraps her arms around the older girl’s neck, keeping their foreheads still against each other’s, “I don’t- I don’t wanna rush into things and fuck it up. I can’t- fuck- I can’t lose y-”

“You won’t,” Paige swears, squeezing at Azzi’s wait, “I won’t let you. We can take it slow. We can take it however you want- I just- we’re doing this?”

“Yeah,” Azzi can’t help the grin that fills up her entire face, “yeah we’re doing this.”

And as they surge forward to claim each other’s lips, and as they meld every inch of themselves into each other, and as they smile and cry into the kiss simultaneously, and as they etch promises into each other skin, and as they let themselves finally fall into each other, for each other, it feels a lot like coming home.

***

July 2024

The early morning sunlight casts a dark shadow across Paige’s face, causing the still asleep blonde to scrunch up her face in irritation. Azzi, who’s been awake for nearly half an hour now, can’t help the fond smile that creeps onto her own lips. She shifts herself to block the sun and Paige lets out a content sigh, burrowing herself further into her pillows. And the thing is every moment with Paige is special but there’s something about waking up to her in the morning. Azzi’s always awake first and it gives her ample time to just admire the girl in her arms, blond hair tousled all over her pillow, lips parted slightly open, and one arm always, always, splayed across Azzi’s torso, holding her close. Over the course of time, Azzi’s found out that the second she moves, Paige seems to feel her leave, waking up instantly.

There had been an adjustment period if Azzi's honest. It had taken her a while to shake that fear of Paige not being there in the morning. The first morning, she’d been scared to open her eyes, even if she could feel Paige’s presence right next to her. That had been one of the few mornings that Paige was fully awake first, hovering above Azzi to wake her up. And when she finally did get the courage to open her eyes, the first thing Azzi had seen was Paige, blue eyes sparkling with unfiltered adoration, a smile filled with promises of every morning just like this. And that had been enough.

Azzi reaches out to brush a hand through Paige’s soft blond hair, mesmerised by how pretty Paige looks in the morning glow. A lot of Paige belongs to the world now and Azzi’s not opposed to sharing really, because someone so fucking perfect, deserves to be celebrated like that. But there are some parts of Paige that belong to Azzi and Azzi only, some parts Azzi cherishes as being only hers. This is one of them and Azzi takes a snapshot of it, knowing she’ll need it to function in a few months, when she won’t get the real thing.

“Are you watching Paige sleep?” Azzi almost jumps at the sound of Drew’s voice at the doorway, having been too immersed in Paige to have even heard the door open, “that’s kinda creepy Azzi.”

“Jesus Drew, whatever happened to knocking?”

“I forgot?” Drew grins, before he plops on the bed, the force of it making the whole frame shake a little bit.

“Drew!” Azzi chides, “you’re gonna wake her up.”

Drew cocks his eyebrows, sparing his sister, who seems unphased by the sudden little bit of chaos around her, still fast asleep, an unimpressive look, “please she can sleep through anything. Besides, it’s already 9. I thought we were gonna do things. I been up for aaaages.”

“She’ll be awake soon,” Azzi smiles, ruffling the younger boy's hair. Drew rolls his eyes and it’s remarkable how much he resembles Paige, not just by face, but the mannerisms too.

He huffs for a second before his eyes sparkle with an idea, “what if we pour water on her!”

“Drew!” Azzi chastises again, trying not to giggle.

“Boo,” Drew crosses his arms across his chest, “you used to be so cool Azzi.”

Azzi laughs as she’s reminded of a younger version of herself, scheming with Drew on how to wake Paige up. And it’s not that she’s beyond that really, tucking the water idea for a rainy day, but Paige looks too peaceful this morning and she wants to preserve that look of serenity on the older girl’s face for just a little bit longer.

“Hey Azzi,” Drew says after a while and Azzi hums in response, “when you and Paige get married, I can still be a groomsman right? Even if there’s no grooms?”

“Wha- where did that come from?” the brunette’s eyes widened at the question, sitting up a little straighter.

Drew peers up at her with all the innocence of a pre-teen, “you are gonna get married right?”

“I don’t-”

“It’s too early for your yapping Drew,” Azzi’s saved from answering by Paige’s tired voice entering the conversation. She looks over to find Paige’s eyes already on her, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looks up at Azzi. If Drew wasn’t sitting right there, Azzi would lean over and kiss her and let Paige deepen it until they were both satisfied.

“Oh thank god,” Drew cheers dramatically, “I thought you were gonna sleep forever.”

Paige scoffs, the arm that’s still wrapped around Azzi’s torso tightening its hold, “I wish.”

“Well you’re awake now so get up,” Drew whines, moving from his spot on the end of the bed, to flop on top of Paige’s body instead, “get up, get up, GET UP.”

“Get off,” Paige groans but there’s no real force behind it. Azzi watches with a fond smile, as Paige flips Drew over so that she can tickle him, eliciting rounds of laughter from the younger boy. Something in her heart flutters, her mind going back to Drew’s question. She’s never really been one to think too hard about marriage and children and that domestic suburban life, leaving it up to fate, but now- well, maybe.

“Okay aight aight enough. Go get ready for breakfast and we’ll be down in a second,” Paige says, ushering Drew off of the bed.

“You can just tell me you want me to leave so you can kiss Azzi you know?” Drew scrunches up his nose, “you two are gross.”

Paige sends him a stern look and gets a dramatic eye roll in return but as he always does, Drew does as he’s told, mock saluting the two of them and skipping out of the room.

“He’s right by the way,” Paige says softly, turning back to where Azzi’s leaning against the backboard, “I do want to kiss you.”

Azzi smirks lopsidedly, “what’s stopping you?”

She squeals in surprise when Paige pulls her, the force of it causing both of them to tumble onto the front-end of the bed. Azzi ends up on top of Paige, hands resting around her neck, the blonde’s hands holding her waist in place.

“Good morning,” Paige grins, clearly proud of herself as she chases Azzi’s lips to pull her into a searing kiss.

“Good morning,” Azzi whispers back, thumb caressing Paige’s left cheek.

“Just so you know,” Paige pulls away, a determined glint in her eyes, “we’re so getting married one day.”

***

October 2024

Azzi’s mood has been rancid for the last couple of weeks. It’s terrible she knows; it makes her irritating to play with and a nightmare to live with. But even if this had been expected, that she would be on one end of the country and her heart would be on the other side, it doesn’t stop her from constantly being in a state of missing Paige. And it’s different from before, now that there’s a certain surety of of course i’ll see you soon but soon never really feels soon enough.

“Azzi can you please get the door,” Kiki calls from her room when the doorbell rings.

“I’m busy,” Azzi grunts back, snuggling further into her pillow with a book she isn’t actually reading, “you go get it.”

“Azzi please, I’m literally in the middle of getting dressed,” Kiki yells exasperatedly.

If it wasn’t for the fact that she’s pretty sure her teammates are about this close to plotting her murder, and deservedly so, Azzi would sink back onto her bed and let the incessant doorbell noise continue. But she does love her teammates, thinks Kiki probably deserves to change in peace, and it forces her out of bed, grumbling away about annoying visitors. Until she actually gets a look at the visitor. Paige stands on the doorstep, confident as ever, a bouquet of roses and peonies and lilies in her hand.

“You’re here,” Azzi breathes out, staring in awe.

“And thank fucking god she is,” Kiki quips from behind her, “maybe we can finally get our old happy Azzi back and not this bitch.”

Paige laughs, “watch how you talk about my girl Rice.”

“You’re here. You’re really here,” Azzi whispers again.

“I heard you missed me baby,” Paige says, her cocky smirk betrayed by the softness in her voice. And then Azzi is flying into her arms, throwing Paige off balance.

“So fucking much,” Azzi admits into Paige’s neck, eliciting a giggle from the blonde, “Kiki’s right. I have been a bitch.”

“Just a little bit,” Kiki calls out again but there’s a new fondness in her voice. It’s funny how her team, even the haters, have slowly become Paige fans. They’d been hesitant at first, just like the UConn girls, but now well, it seems the basketball world’s Montagues and Capulets have learned to accept their star players’ relationship.

“Missed you too Az,” Paige’s tone is vulnerable as they break away, “alright, go get changed, I wanna take you somewhere.”

“Or…,” Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, “we could stay here and do something else.”

Paige shivers under her touch, stepping away to keep some semblance of control “n-no I have plans,” but she can’t help but kiss Azzi’s pout away, “it’ll be worth it, I promise. Besides,” she bites at Azzi’s ear, “there’s always later.”

***

“Your big plans are to bring me to the supermarket,” Azzi cocks an eyebrow as they walk down one of the many aisles, “you turned down sex for this? Should I be offended?”

Paige doesn’t say anything, concentratedly looking at signs, trying to figure out a specific section, before an aha! moment dances over her face, and she pulls Azzi with her, the younger girl going willingly, despite the eye roll. She stops triumphantly in front of the sushi section and Azzi looks at her quizzically.

“I’m getting you supermarket sushi,” Paige says pointedly, “and then you can get me mac and cheese.”

And if you brought me sushi I’d have brought you your favourite mac and cheese. Oh. The realisation of what Paige is doing trickles around Azzi a little bit like rain after a long summer drought. She thinks back to the bouquet, everything suddenly making sense.

“You’re such a dork Paige Bueckers,” Azzi says softly, tapping the older girl’s nose.

“Your dork,” Paige grins cheesily, “now hurry up and pick one. I don’t wanna miss the sunset.”

***

Once she catches on it, it doesn’t surprise Azzi to find that Paige has everything planned out perfectly, down to the exact spot in the park- the one by Paige’s recovery airBnB, the one they’d taken countless walks in trying to repair their friendship- where the two of them can be away from everybody else, in their own little bubble. And she has a picnic blanket, that’s a little small but they don’t really want space from each other anyways. They lean against a tree, food set up in front of them, Paige’s laptop, carefully piled on top of a couple of books to be the perfect height, set a little bit further away.

“So what NBA game are we watching?” Azzi asks with a smile and Paige groans, “what? Was that not part of the plan?”

“Dude come on. It’s the beginning of October. Please tell me you know the NBA season isn’t happening yet,” Paige rubs her temple, only a little endeared by the comment, “are you sure you’re a basketball player?”

“There are games in October. I swear I’ve seen them before,” Azzi says sceptically.

“Yeah at the very end of the month, not right now.”

“Well then close enough,” Azzi says indignantly, “I don’t need to know the exact day.”

“Whatever you say baby,” Paige acquiesces with a smirk and it earns her an elbow to the stomach, “what the fuck? That shit’s domestic violence you know?”

“Big words Bueckers, didn’t think you knew them,” Azzi teases, placing a kiss against Paige’s offended expression, before settling herself against the blonde’s side, sighing contentedly when she gets a kiss on her temple in return. They’re cliché enough to put on Love and Basketball, but Azzi doesn’t really end up watching much at all. In between slow kisses, she almost falls asleep a couple of times, the comfort of Paige’s arms like a blanket wrapping her in the warmth of this is my fairytale.

“THE POLAROID,” Paige’s shout breaks Azzi out of her haze as she feels her body being shaken off, the blonde rummaging through her bag for the camera, “we have to take the polaroid. My wall needs it.”

“Oh yeah a tiny polaroid picture of us inbetween all your Lebron posters, a perfect fit,” Azzi drawls only to be met with a scathing look from Paige.

“It’s for important things and Lebron is the most important of them all,” Paige explains with complete seriousness, as she finally finds the polaroid camera and shimmies back to Azzi with it in hand.

The sunset is beautiful. Pink, purple, orange and blue, all blending together to create the perfect picture. But Azzi thinks it’s not nearly as beautiful as the girl in front of her, not nearly as beautiful as the date Paige had planned, not nearly as beautiful as the future she can so clearly see now. Her mind drifts back to the night of the phone call, and she can almost hear Paige’s sobs again, can still hear her own voice breaking. Back then, they had seemed impossible, a butterfly like dream that danced out of their grasp.

“Hey,” Paige captures her chin with two fingers, “where’d you go?”

Azzi shakes her head, “nowhere. I’m right here. With you. Where I should be.”

“Sappy goof,” Paige snorts but she kisses Azzi like she’ll take those words and hide them in the labyrinth of her mind, protect them there forever.

Taking the picture is a task, both of them bickering about angles and lights. It’s unnecessary arguing, in true Paige and Azzi fashion really but there’s something so mundanely domestic about it that Azzi finds herself wanting to memorise this moment too. They finally get the frame just right, somewhere in between what they both wanted. Azzi smiles at the camera, her Paige smile, as the blonde in question presses her lips against her cheeks.

Click.

And Azzi hopes, that however many years later, when they have a home of their own, amidst all the photos that they’ll take over the next years, this one will be hung somewhere on their wall, a testament to finally realising every dream they’d dared to dream together.

***

December 2024

There are pebbles being thrown at her window and Azzi has to stop herself from laughing when she peers down to see Paige, freezing cold in the Virginia December air, staring up at her with a goofy smile. She shakes her head when her phone rings, knowing it’s Paige and answers it with her own foolish grin.

“What exactly are you doing?” Azzi asks, “come back to bed.”

“You said I was unromantic. I’m trying to be romantic,” Paige’s teeth chatter in the cold, as she balances her phone in one hand, still throwing rocks with the other.

“I didn’t say that and throwing rocks at my window is supposed to be romantic? You’re going to wake the whole house up.”

“That’s what they do in all the good rom coms. And you said and I quote ‘we’re kind of boring’. You might be boring Azzi Fudd but I most definitely am not.”

It had been a throwaway comment Azzi had made at dinner with some friends from high school. One of her friends had been going on and on about some adventurous trip that she and her boyfriend were going on, and then asked Paige and Azzi if they had any of that planned. To which Azzi had replied that they were a little too busy, considering they were college basketball players still in season, and besides they were “kind of boring” people. She hadn’t meant it in any type of way. Personally, Azzi likes boring. Paige however, seemed to have taken the comment to heart and Azzi had woken up at 2 a.m. to an empty bed and the sound of something being thrown at her window.

“Okay I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You're really interesting baby and the most romantic person in the world. Now will you please come back to bed,” Azzi concedes, already missing the feeling of being cuddled up in her blankets with Paige’s body heat keeping her nice and toasty.

“No,” Paige says indignantly, “come down here.”

“Paige, it's freezing. It’s gonna start snowing any minute.”

“Exactly. That’s exciting.”

“Sleep is exciting,” Azzi whines, but she’s already padding around her room looking for a warm sweater, grumbling under her breath about the warm California sun she’s missing. She tiptoes down the staircase, wincing at the one step that creaks just a little too much, before pushing herself out the door. And it’s freezing cold, there’s sleep in her eyes, but it’s all worth it Azzi thinks, it’ll always be worth it, just to experience Paige’s smile.

“Knew you’d come,” Paige grins cockily, mittened hands pulling Azzi into her.

“Yeah yeah. What are we even doing?”

“Azzi Fudd,” Paige bellows dramatically, “may I have this dance.”

Azzi stares at Paige’s outstretched hand wondering if this is some sort of cry for help, but one look at Paige’s face tells her that the girl in front of her is being absolutely serious.

“This is your idea of exciting? Dancing in the street while it’s freezing with no music?” Azzi raises an eyebrow, but she takes Paige’s hand.

“It’s spontaneous,” Paige says the last word with a flourish, as she spins Azzi, “why not dance in the street when it’s freezing with no music?”

And well, that’s a fair point. If anyone were to look out their window that night, they’d probably think the two girls were somewhat crazy. Laughing and giggling and tripping over each other as Paige hums a melody and Azzi occasionally joins in. It’s ridiculous and corny and cliché and perfect. And then the first little bit of snow falls, white drops circling around the two dancing girls, snowflakes catching on their eyelashes. The dim glow of the streetlight is enough to catch identical smiles on the two girl’s faces as they revel in each other.

“You know some people say if you make a wish during the first snowfall, it’ll come true,” Paige whispers, still waltzing the two of them around, cheek pressed to Azzi’s, “you wanna try?”

And the thing is Azzi doesn’t really believe in all of that, in magic but something about Paige, something about this moment feels magical. It makes a believer out of Azzi.

“Yeah,” Azzi smiles, “let’s make a wish.”

They stand still, holding hands, eyes closed, both a little breathless, as they make their wishes. And when they open them, if it feels a little bit like maybe their wishes have already been granted, well they’ll share it in a secret smile but never out loud. After all, wishes don’t come true if you speak of them.

***

April 2025

7 seconds to go in the National Championship and Azzi’s UCLA Bruins are down by two points. It’s her last chance, having already declared for the 2025 WNBA draft, to win a national championship, to bring home their first basketball national championship since the 1978 team that had won the AIAW championship, to win their first NCAA championship ever. It had taken some sheer luck to get to this point if Azzi’s honest. As a two-seed in the Spokane region, they’d benefitted from their one-seed having been eliminated early and then getting to face a Cinderella six-seed in the final four. On the other side of the bracket, UConn, the favourites coming for a repeat, had been stunned by another team, the team that UCLA was now facing. That had caused a bit of a second-hand sting and Azzi’s not really trying to take revenge for Paige, but it'd be a lie to say the get back at them for me babe from earlier this morning isn’t ringing in her head.

The play is simple, set screens for Azzi, get her open, get her the ball. A two would get them to a tie and three would win it outright. Either will do. It’s a little too reminiscent of last year when Azzi had failed at tying the final 4 game and she can still feel that loss on the tips of her fingers. They break out from their last timeout, breathlessly running to their spots on the floor. The whistle blows, Kiki inbounds the ball and everything is a blur. All Azzi knows is the shot clock is winding down. She runs off of what feels like a million screens. And then she’s open on the wing, for a millisecond. A perfect pass from Kiki makes sure the ball lands straight in Azzi’s hand. And she doesn’t think, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t even notice the defender put up a hand, she shoots the ball. There’s two people on the court that know for sure that ball is going in the minute it leaves Azzi’s fingers, the shooter herself and her biggest fan in the stands, who’s been just a little bit in love with that shooting stroke, since before anything else had even begun.

With a delicate swish, the ball falls through the net, the buzzer sounds around the arena, the crowd explodes in blue and gold, as the UCLA Bruins win the 2025 national championship.

Everything stills in Azzi’s brain for a second, her thoughts taking a second to catch up to reality. She’s never really been one to emotion on the court, keeping herself steely guarded through most games, even at the very end. But now, triumph and pride and just utter happiness at finally achieving one of her biggest dreams, comes roaring to the surface, manifesting itself throughout her entire body, as she lets out a scream of joy. Her teammates engulf her and she gets lost in a sea of hugs and tears and bright, decadent smiles.

As thing start to calm down, there’s really only one thing on Azzi’s mind and Paige’s words echo in her ears, because if I’m gonna end up fucking crying, then I want it to be on your shoulder. And if I’m gonna end up celebrating, I want it to be in your arms. And Azzi thinks maybe Paige had discovered one of the biggest truths of their life with that, the truth that at the end of day, in any moment, big or small, happy or sad, the one person Azzi wants next to her, is her Paige. It’s been that way since she was fourteen, and too young to really understand the meaning of wanting someone forever, and she thinks if she has her way, it’ll be like that for the rest of her life, the rest of their life.

Paige is beaming in the crowd, standing next to Jon and José, a #35 jersey proudly adorning her torso. She waves when she catches Azzi’s eyes, always her biggest cheerleader. And Azzi throws caution to the wind, fuck it, not caring that there’s still a large crowd or that cameras are likely to follow her every move. She pushes her way into the stands, stopping right in front of the blonde.

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad would kissing you right now be?” Azzi asks, still a little breathless.

A myriad of emotions flicker through Paige’s face before settling on a mischievous smirk, “probably pretty bad but you should do it anyways.”

Azzi grins before merging their lips together and everything else fades to the background, until she’s consumed by nothing but Paige. They break apart far quicker than either of them would like and Azzi expects to feel just a little bit of fear at what she’s just done, likely given the media a spectacle they could run a million and one stories about but instead, with her forehead still pressed against Paige’s, she feels nothing but calm.

“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi whispers and Paige’s eyes widen. They’ve known it for a while now but it’s the first time either of them have said it.

“Say it again,” Paige demands.

“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi says again, grinning so hard, she thinks it might become her permanent expression, “like really fucking in love with you.”

“I’m so in love with you,” Paige whispers, pulling Azzi into a bone-crushing hug.

And this might not be the moment where everything finally comes together. There’s still so much life left to live, so much that they still need to work through, so much they’ve yet to deal with. But for now, Azzi has a national championship and she has the love of her life, the rest will work itself out, or so she hopes.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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sepublic · 1 month ago

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The Rapture, the Day of Unity, and Happily Ever After

I wouldn’t be surprised if the upper echelons of the coven regime weren’t concerned with being sustainable, because they were privy before the public was to the Day of Unity, which was itself essentially one big rapture where everyone goes to a perfect utopia! They don’t have to worry about the world they’ve left behind, they just need to last long enough to make it to this endpoint, like Belos talking about how he only needs to ‘live long enough to see this through’.

So it must’ve been quite a shock, realizing that’s not it; There’s nothing for all their hard work. They have to go back to their lives as normal, but knowing it’s eternal in the sense of worrying about living life until it naturally ends for them, and making society run ahead of them for the next to pick up. Now people have to do their jobs in creating an actual functioning society instead of loftily dreaming of a fantasy, which is of course topical to the show’s themes about being beholden to the world and people around you as you make dreams practical.

I can see a comparison between the apathy that came from the Day of Unity and how a lot of rich, powerful folk —especially the ones running fossil fuel companies— don’t care about destroying the Earth and its environment, because they’ll be dead before it gets bad enough that the devastation reaches them in their cushy little suites. On the Day of Unity, Emira’s frustrations over her mother only caring about money feel in a similar vein, it all hearkens back to the same problem with these CEOs where their personal, material enjoyment is the only priority.

And this makes me think of the rapture comparison too; It comes from the Evangelicals, who are the descendants of the Puritans. I can see the writers playing with how Marx called religion the opiate of the masses; The idea that Christianity was often exploited by the upper class against the lower class to justify their suffering. The idea was that if you were poor, you didn’t need to worry about improving your material world because as long as you remained pious and faithful, you’d eventually inherit a heavenly afterlife.

Thus, working-class Christians were made complacent, believing their mortal suffering was just temporary and even a test for their ascension. Whether you think they actually got a heavenly afterlife is an entirely separate real-life theological discussion, but the point was that it was an excuse by those in power to avoid being held accountable in making the living world actually tolerable for everyone else, and everyone else would not hold them to that standard because they thought it didn’t matter anyway.

So I can see the Day of Unity functioning exactly like that, in fact I’m pretty sure it just did onscreen because we see wild witches such as the Demon Hunters accept the coven bindings because for whatever losses they suffer, eventually the Titan will make it all worth it right? And this framing of the Titan as an abstract God who will take you to an abstract universe is interesting; We know tangibly that other worlds exist of course, but in the context of the show, the utopia bit is a lie.

And if we apply it to real life, much how the show calls out IRL witch hunters (and its fictional one, because TOH’s fictional witches warranted nothing for their existence) as insincere… I do remember a college lecture in things like Animism or cosmocentric belief systems; They saw the ‘spirits’ as not existing on a separate plane, but our own. There was no afterlife or heaven, it was all in this world, people live on when they die and break down and are consumed by other beings, that sort of thing.

The practices of wild magic and the worship of the Titan seem to follow in a similar vein to these and Animism; The Titan is sacred and her body has its own life reborn as the environment, but she’s also undeniably dead, as pointed out by a Deadwardian witch. Eda stresses learning from the natural environment around you for magic, their ‘god’ is a mortal being and also their tangible world. The magic comes via glyphs in nature, as well as the magic in everything that witches get their own magic from. There IS something resembling an afterlife in-universe but we never get to see it, the beliefs of wild magic seem to be at odds with Belos’ Christian colonialism, and again its promise of a rapture and a separate, abstract God and utopia.

Point is; There is no universe after this, or at least that’s not how wild witches treat it. The focus is on the here and now and making this world last, and making it last for the future generations that will take your place. And this defiance of a rapture in favor of life always going on makes me think of how Dana hates the term Happily Ever After, for the implications of everything just being over and that’s it. That’s the end. All the problems are solved now, there is no story left to tell.

I can’t say this was intentional on a conscious level or otherwise, but I do have to draw a connection between this and how TOH’s ending was in response to this critique; Life keeps going on, the protagonists have to keep fixing the Boiling Isles, and then keep it going even if it IS fixed. They just undid coven bindings and King found his first glyph. The Archivists are still out there. The protagonists don’t get an eternal unambiguous happy ending where there’s nothing left to do, they don’t get a ‘heavenly afterlife’ as one could call it, and that’s good!

From a meta standpoint, you can see how it encourages fans to write more stories, to be inspired to keep it going, and it’s another way Dana made the shortening work in the show’s favor. Dana said back in 2020 that she encourages fans to build off of things, as she did as a kid with her own shows, she also wanted it to be that deep growing up! So both in-universe and IRL, TOH isn’t meant to be over, there is no absolute ending because fandom lives on.

Hell, Dana even professed interest in a prequel following Eda’s childhood; She’s since become pessimistic about the possibility, more than likely on account of her cutting ties with Disney and executives’ disinterest. But the point still stands; Life keeps going, IRL. The lives of the characters keep going, in-universe and IRL through fandom.

I also wonder if you could discuss Lumity under this lens; I’m making exceptions for queer romances, especially in children’s media, because they often have to deal with censorship pushing them to the last minute. But when it comes to romance in general, romance involving the main character largely consists of Will They/Won’t They, with the climax having the romance achieved. But because of the Thrill of the Chase, a lot of writers don’t want to explore how characters actually navigate a relationship, hence why it’s drawn out and saved for the ending; The romance has been nearly tied up as a Happily Ever After, there’s no more story to tell. So when they get a continuation, they’ll often undo progress.

Lumity avoids this; Lumity has them get together at the halfway point of the series, and then actually explores their dynamic as a couple together, without creating misunderstandings or breakups or anything. We see how they work as a couple, how they get to enjoy each other as a couple. So them getting together isn’t the ending climax, it’s just another stage in their continuing dynamic. There is no Happily Ever After; There’s problems for them to face together that do sometimes strain their relationship, but they still work on it together; Dana was adamant on showing these things instead of settling for them asking each other out and letting the rest be an implication.

And I think that’s so much more healthy to show kids than just idealizing the Thrill of the Chase and its climax, without appreciating the mundanity of just being together. Because kids grow into adults and don’t really expect or care to pursue a romance past that point, and I wonder if this is part of the culture behind cheating, of still reaching for something unattainable because media doesn’t normalize already having things when it comes to romance. Nor does it care for tackling things together as a couple most of the time.

Dana was raised Catholic, which is separate from Puritanism, but she did have to deal with Evangelicals growing up, as they raged about innocuous things like Pokemon; And Pokemon was her Good Witch Azura, a last gift from her father before he died in a car crash. It’s something Dana still enjoys and she’s done crossover art for it and TOH.

So I can see the coincidence/connection in Dana critiquing Evangelicals’ rapture ideology and how the end of everything is used to placate people instead of worrying about what needs to be eternally maintained, and like. Her feeling similarly with stories and even romances where it ends definitively and perfectly. Because fandom keeps going and she’s a part of it too.

The world keeps going, there is no endpoint to history IRL or in the show; People have to adjust going back to the banality of continuing to live and worry about running society in the long-term, rather than expecting it to not matter because they were going to be raptured anyway. And you know what, this could be good, it means it lasts forever as we see Luz and co. embrace it, happy to enjoy their lives, actually getting to be in a relationship; But life is fragile as we see with the Titan, so we gotta work to keep it going, so that even when we get our definitive end, the people after get their time.

#The Owl House #Dana Terrace #Lumity #Meta

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deathsdivinity · 8 months ago

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anyone else ever think about the fact that grace straight up says "imagine you're a good christian. sometimes you have to listen to people and believe what they say even if it sounds crazy, against everything you know, in spite of all common sense"

like. the implications. the implications.

directly implying that she herself listens to other christians and believes what they say even though to her it sounds crazy, against everything she knows, and against all common sense. that's not a "my faith has been tested these past few weeks because of The Horrors" statement, that's a "my faith has been tested all my life but i keep listening and believing because that's what i have to do to be good" statement.

grace lies to herself. grace believes what she has to believe. we see that in the musical itself, especially with her initially considering max's death to be an act of god because the alternative is that it was her fault and she Cannot Handle That. she blames anything and everything, anyone and everyone, EXCEPT for herself for the things that go wrong, except for in the single scene where she admits that she knows it's her fault. she DOES blame herself, underneath it all. she genuinely believes that she's the one who ruined their lives and who made this whole mess. not an accident, not an act of god- it's her fault, directly.

i don't think it's a stretch to believe that grace has BEEN lying to herself about her own beliefs and faith, to the point of forcing herself to believe in god and to be a "good christian" because its whats expected of her and arguably quite possibly the only thing she's allowed to be due to the seemingly unwavering faith of her parents.

its just so unreal to me that one sentence so casually and so easily implies that grace is nowhere NEAR as devout as she pretends to be, and even more unreal what exploring that belief implies about her character throughout the rest of the musical.

#npmd #i could go on about this for so long its ridiculous #'even if it sounds crazy against everything you know in spite of all common sense' the way my jaw DROPPED first hearing her say that #and ohhhhhhh what it means for The Rest Of Her........ lord help me #aly.txt #grace

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artist-issues · 6 months ago

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every now and then I play with the exercise of "what if we're wrong" because sometimes I get bored and also as an actual exercise. I usually apply this to Christianity/religion, matters of the after life, or about other people.

So sometimes I poke at the big question, if Christianity isn't real, what does that mean? And I don't usually go the route of atheism or bad sci fi, just that the religion is proven to be fundamentally inaccurate to reality, so what does that mean?

Anyway it wasn't until I was reading a really good sci fi story, where this one dude explains to some aliens the concept of "Love your enemies, do good to those that hurt you" and of course the aliens are like what? (Because in the sci fi narrative the universe is functioning under a Dark Forest Theory) And the dude explains its from one of earth's greatest teachers. And the aliens are like, if the inhabitants of the universe could believe that, this universe would be a different place entirely.

And it was at that point where I realized bro... even if it's not accurate, practicing Christianity is still worth it, for a human being. Loving your enemies means loving them like humans. The Poor, the Meek, and those who mourn, those are promises and comforts that we shouldn't toss aside even if heaven isn't real.

I don't know, this is just a terribly simplistic because I'm not the best at putting my English thoughts into english out loud, but that crack gave me a touch of useful coping. I asked my dad, if aliens are proven to exist it doesn't automatically mean christians stop practicing and believing, right? And he said obviously not.

I don't know but have you ever engaged in such a question " what if we're wrong?" And if you ever have what answer had you arrived at?

EDIT: As @atwas-meme-ing correctly pointed out in the comments section of this post, who cares whether or not I’ve played this game: God answered the question through Paul in his letter to the Corinthians: “If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied.” 1 Corinthians 5:19.

There’s no “good moral teaching” to be found in Christianity if Christ wasn’t God, or if God didn’t exist, or if eternity weren’t real. My rambling logic is below the cut.

I mean, I play that “game” all the time about other things, and sometimes I do it for work. I’ll take two established characters and a setting me and my friends have agreed on, and I’ll “run a scenario.”

But the thing is, once my brain picks out something that doesn’t make sense, or that wouldn’t be in-character for the characters to do, the whole scenario grinds to a halt and I have to start over. I can’t suspend my own disbelief once I notice that something doesn’t line up. Even if I really liked “where the scene was going” before I noticed that thing. Whatever I’m getting stuck on because of it’s out-of-character nature unravels the parts I like, too.

All that to say I can’t even run a scenario in my head where “what if all this isn’t true? What if it fundamentally doesn’t line up with reality?”

I can’t. Once or twice I have tried. But I hit snags immediately. I’ll go, “pretend all of this Christian religion really is just a centuries-old conspiracy humanity’s been patching up the holes in.”

But then that little simulation-checker in my brain goes, “then how do you explain people dying for it? That many martyrs aren’t likely to have allowed themselves to be tortured and murdered for something they knew was a conspiracy.”

And I go, “well, pretend they died because they didn’t know it was a conspiracy, they believed it.”

And the sim-checker goes, “but the original disciples of Jesus, ground-zero of the faith, were all martyred. Not just people who learned from them and came after them and could’ve been hoodwinked: the starting points, themselves. They would’ve had to know it was a conspiracy, if it was a conspiracy, and they still willingly died for it.”

Maybe I’ll pivot and go, “pretend there isn’t objective truth.”

And the sim-checker goes, “there isn’t truth…objectively?”

Maybe I’ll pivot again and try, “pretend that everyone really does just measure morality based on what they’re used to, what their individual society’s trained them to associate with pleasant feelings and reactions.”

And the sim-checker goes, “Okay, where did those societies get the training manual? Where did it come from? Why do so many different societies’ and people groups’ ‘association with pleasant feelings and reactions’ around the world have so many things in common?”

And the answers to all that leads me back to Christianity. Even if I go the longest way round I can think of.

And eventually I quit running those scenarios. Because guess what?

Where’d the ability to run scenarios come from?

How did I get that? How did you?

See, the thing is, we go, “what if all of this isn’t true?” But it’s right there in the question. “Where did you get that desire? The desire for “truth?”” Is it to keep yourself safe, like the natural animals have an instinct toward, or is it to keep yourself sane, because you need some sense in this life to make it through? Sure. Maybe. But why? What’s “sane?” What’s “safe?” Sanity presupposes order. Why do you, and all humans, naturally lean toward wanting things to be “the way they’re supposed to be?” Where’d that come from, that idea of “supposed to be?” And Safety presupposes good being found in avoiding pain and damage and fear. “Good?” Where’d you get that idea?”

The further you dig, even into your own psyche, the less you can run any scenario that has God absent entirely. And no wonder. He designed it.

One more thing.

“I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept his claim to be God. That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic — on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg — or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God, or else a madman or something worse. You can shut him up for a fool, you can spit at him and kill him as a demon or you can fall at his feet and call him Lord and God, but let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about his being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.” - C.S. Lewis

I used to lean into the idea you’re saying here. “Even if it’s not true, I’m going to live like it is and believe it just in case. Besides, it makes me better, and makes the world better.” That’s not belief at all. That’s ends-justify-the-means thinking. The teachings that Jesus gave which “make the world a better place” are utterly worthless if they’re coming out of the mouth of a liar. Because why should anyone believe Him? Why should anyone “turn the other cheek,” or “do unto others?” Because it makes us “better?” Who gets to define “better?”

The answer, of course, is Jesus does. The One who taught those sayings. But only if He’s God. Only if He was telling the truth. If He wasn’t God, what right has He, to tell us to give away our possessions to others and let them abuse us and give our lives up? If He was a liar, all of those “good teachings” would be tainted and untrustworthy. Besides, like I just said, they’re all only able to be called “good” teachings if you accept that there is one objective, universal “good.” And we’re right back to “where did Good come from?”

All roads lead back there, to Him. But we humans like to do this thing with God where we pretend there could be any reality outside of Him. It sort of makes sense, how we got that way. After all, when was the last time you noticed oxygen? How often during the day do you consciously inhale and exhale? As often as it happens automatically? How often during the day do you notice oxygen touching your skin or moving your hair or drying your eyeballs? As often as those things happen automatically? No. But it’s ever-present. Without it, you couldn’t live, let alone notice anything. But oxygen has always been around and everything in our lives interacts with or can only exist WITH it. God is much more than that, but that’s as close as I can get to communicating: He’s so good, and He’s so constantly there, everything, all the time, that it’s easy for us to take Him for granted, forget Him entirely, then use our two-pound brain matter to say, “He might not exist.” You might as well say, “imagine a world with no matter.” 🙄 “Ohhhh kay. Then it wouldn’t be a world.”

#This was fun to talk about though #because even when you’re trying to pick apart truth for “fun” you just get…a closer look at how true truth is.#analysis #christianity #apologetics #theology #faith #Jesus Christ #Bible #c.s. Lewis

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firesnap · 9 months ago

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i have a genuine question. i promise i am not at all trying to defend him. ive dropped him entirely, literally deleted everything i had of him and unliked his songs.

ive just been wondering like considering that he has been in therapy, and also considering how if he does take a year off and then comes back, why cant it be redeemable? like cant people change? cant we give them second chances? he is 27. is he just doomed to be an abuser forever?

its just scary and im asking as like a younger person who is in my very early 20s. i know ive made mistakes. i know ive not been a good partner or friend sometimes. (and yes i was also abusive to a past partner...im not proud of it and ive learned from it. i have never ever touched anyone in that way after that. it took awhile but my current relationship isnt toxic and i would never hurt anyone or hit them again yknow?) and it scares me that people keep insinuating that he is irredeemable. like cant abusers change and become better? dont they get second chances? if shelby has grown and healed in 10 months wouldn't it be fair to say the same for wilbur?

im just genuinely asking because based on everything i believe you are older than me and im looking for guidance and just...idk im scared. growing up on the internet has made me so scared of making mistakes and doing anything wrong because when it happens to others i look up to, its always treated as something they'll never be able to change or improve. makes me feel like imma just be a horrible person forever because i made mistakes in the past.

This is a really complicated question that multiple answers can validly fit.

I don't think, personally, that anyone is irredeemable. I think everyone is on a journey of forgiveness and some of us may need more grace than others.

This is tw// abuse even more than the current topic, but my mom was incredibly abusive. We lived in a very rural area and she had a lot of undiagnosed problems and trauma of her own that created a pressure pot of issues. After I was born, she suffered through full on post-partum psychosis that nearly ended about as well as that sentence implies it could have. She was incredibly violent, controlling, and cruel for years. My sister went no-contact with her the second she turned 18. A significant event occurred that eventually spurned her into seeking real treatment that lasted for years. It's still ongoing.

My sister is also still no contact and I support her decision 100%. Those are her wounds and what she needed to do to get peace should be respected. I decided I wanted a relationship with the person who came out of all that work and, even then, it's been hard. I don't know if she's redeemed herself, and my god do we still have bumps in the road, but I support her for trying.

With Wilbur, how he responds to this is going to really impact a lot of things. I mean, I know no matter how he responds I won't be going on whatever journey of redemption and healing he has to go through. I'm tired and I feel hurt enough. I would think, if he wanted to show he was sincere, admitting what happened would be a great sense of closure for a lot of people who put time and energy and faith into this guy for years.

Not every person that causes harm is inherently evil, but there has to be some kind of knowledge that you're aware of the harm you've caused. No one is stuck as anything forever, life is constantly moving, and most people aren't saying his life is just over. You can work on yourself. You can change. And I'm saying that specifically to you, anonymous.

(Saying this, actually, there ARE people who would argue once you've done x you're beyond redemption based entirely on their life experiences as a victim, personal histories and many other factors. Kinda like my sister, that's their choice. And you have to accept that sometimes you fuck up so badly that you will permanently lose some people from your life. But your life isn't over.)

But I do think, regardless of what he says or does about this, his time of controlling a large platform is at an end. He can still do a lot of things in his life after he works on himself -- editing, song producing, directing, writing or whatever -- but being in charge of a large impressionable audience that could enable more destructive behaviors is just not it.

#the current state of things

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starlitvick · 2 months ago

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The In-Universe Implications of What Odysseus Says in My Goodbye

Okay so during My Goodbye Odysseus says a lot but one thing that as of recent has started sticking out to me is him saying "at least I know what I'm fighting for while you're fighting to be known" and when you actually think more about that line it doesn't really make sense that Odysseus would say this to Athena because back in Ancient Greece Athena was one of the most well known and well respected goddesses, I mean she had a whole city named after her and any warrior/soldier with half a brain would pray to her for strength and wisdom in battle (ofc they'd also pray to Ares for strength but this post isn't about him). So it wasn't like Athena was disrespected (no gods really ever were because that's like a huge no no) or not largely recognized by people which honestly leaves a pretty big question: WHY did Odysseus say that? It wasn't him just saying stuff to say stuff because that combined with him saying how Athena was alone actually upset her. This is where God Games comes in, yeah, God Games.

In the original Odyssey for anyone who doesn't know, nothing anything like God Games happened. That was all Jorge adding new points to the story (and I absolutely love it) but for the sake of digging into this I'll be going a little into the original source material. In Greek Mythology in general Athena was said to have been Zeus' favorite or at the least one of his most favored children, so in The Odyssey when Athena asks him to free Odysseus he actually just kind does it with very little hassle, he kinda mentions how "hey yk kiddo Poseidon's still pretty pissed at the guy but I'll still let him go". No multi-step debate, no getting beaten by lightning. In EPIC however, Athena goes to Zeus and he decides to make a game out of freeing Odysseus and when Athena wins that game Zeus feels like she's shaming him and he strikes her with lightning. Which is actually crazy work tbh, but anyways, the entire existence of God Games and Zeus making the game up to begin with at surface level just seems like Zeus wanting to mess with Athena but if you think about it along with Odysseus saying Athena is "fighting to be known" it can kinda be read more as Zeus not really taking her seriously and not thinking she can do it. I mean he had at least three people he was probably pretty solid wouldn't agree with her: Aphrodite (her and Athena don't get along), Ares (Ares and Athena are often at odds in many interpretations of the gods due to them being on opposites of the aspect of warfare), and Hera (who is famous for being the biggest hater of like 90% of Zeus bastard children). Hephaestus and Apollo agreeing or disagreeing was probably a toss up, but in the end all five gods agreed to have Odysseus released and Zeus was left for some reason: angry. Now ik a lot of people think its just because of the jab about the whole faithfulness thing and I mean it could be, but that would only answer the "to make me feel shame" part. not the whole "you dare to defy me" and "nobody beats me, nobody wins my game". Overall it sounds more like Zeus didn't want Athena to win, but why? Because despite her importance: he doesn't take her seriously, and possibly neither does... well, anyone.

Go back to Warrior of The Mind and Athena talks about how her life has one mission: to create the greatest warrior. Why though? Why is this her life's ONE mission? Because she wants to be recognized by her fellow gods maybe?

Because remember during WOTM she also says "Maybe one day they'll follow me and we'll make a greater tomorrow" which if I'm on the right brain track here could possibly mean "maybe one day they'll take me seriously/respect me" like maybe if she makes the greatest warrior other gods will actually recognize her for who she is. Because Athena also switches to saying "we'll" and "cause WE are the warriors of the mind"

Basically to summarize: Possibly, in EPIC, Athena isn't as well respected as she is in mythology (because remember Jorge takes creative liberties when he wants to) and her whole thing her entire life has been trying to gain that respect and have people take her seriously, because even despite her being the goddess of wisdom and a crucial deity to have on your side during warfare, outside of that nobody really cares. She's only respected when she's needed but like anyone would she hates that and wants to be known and respected all the time, not only during wars when soldiers want her good will and at some point in time Athena may have actually opened up to Odysseus about this or talked about it and THATS why she got upset at the end of My Goodbye, because not only did Odysseus legit just call her lonely after calling her selfish, prideful, vain, and a plague; He used something she'd told him in most likely confidence and maybe even in a moment of weakness against her.

I don't know if this rant makes much sense but yeah, have me spitting words onto Tumblr about the fact that Odysseus saying that Athena is "fighting to be known" has some interesting in-universe implications.

#epic the musical #epic #epic athena #epic the musical theory #epic the musical rant #jorge rivera herrans #my goodbye #epic cyclops saga #epic the musical cyclops saga #epic the cyclops saga #the cyclops saga #epic odysseus #epic zeus #epic theory

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sillovn · 5 months ago

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Marika, Messmer and the Hornsent World

OK, finally collected and wrote up SotE lore thoughts. Specifically, want to talk about godhood and details of Marika’s ascension. There's a lot to cover...

1. Divinity and Order

Godhood and the Elden Ring now appear to be entirely separate concepts (though it’s still likely that only gods can use the Elden Ring). Ascension to godhood seems related to accessing a skyward divine paradise, the ‘Higher Spheres’ as the Grandam states. Meanwhile, the Elden Ring appears to “only” be a tool a god uses to create Order.

This is significant, as it now appears that Marika is the first god in many ages (possibly ever) to wield the Elden Ring. The pre-Erdtree Hornsent make no reference to it in their belief systems or visual culture. Her ascension thus represents a major shift in the world’s history, rather than simply being the passing of ages (which was a fair idea pre-SotE).

As a side, SotE also introduces a new class of divinity; the ‘Old Gods’ who seem to be long buried and gigantic in size. The single known weapon related to them appears inspired by IRL stone-age arrow points? (Yes, I know it’s referred to as meteoric ore. But AFAIK, the practice of using meteoric metal seems to predates the ‘formal definition’ of metal ages.)

2. What is the Original Sin?

It is something kept in the Land of Shadow and then what? Marika’s Gold-Shadow creation event would make thematic sense as the Original Sin, again lending credence to the idea that Marika represents a significant break with tradition.

Its notable that Enir-Ilim remains untouched by the razing of the surrounding country, also it was already shadowed at the time of the crusade. As others have stated, there’s an intentionally concealed past here.

3. Marika and the Hornsent

There is a specific relationship here – abandonment and betrayal (ie. Marika was known to the Hornsent and they expected her to uphold something). This is to say that narratives where Marika is ‘a survivor who slipped away and returned with vengeance’ don’t add up.

Instead, Im going to suggest that Marika’s godhood was supported by the Hornsent. Firstly, Enir-Ilim is held by the Hornsent to this very day, Marika ascends using their rituals and Divine Gate. Next, note the religious similarity between the Hornsent and Marika.

Tree Worship and accompanying ideas (gold is holy, sap blessings, fear of Fire Giants).

Note how compared to the present day Erdtree, the Scadutree is a physical sap-dripping tree.

Crucible worship (fades away in the Erdtree faith over time)

Jar Sacrifice. The Hornsent create Saints, the Erdtree followers use gladiators to make gargoyles (again, fades after Godfrey)

Shared motifs with dual meaning (punishment vs. fertility). Barbs vs. Arcs, Crucifixion vs. Dripping sap.

Marika’s braids and jewelry are spirals

Point Im trying to make is that the Erdtree religion is an evolution from the Hornsent one – especially when considering the initial ‘Age of Plenty’ of Marika x Godfrey.

Maliketh’s existence also complicates any idea where Marika and the Hornsent were enemies from the start. A Shadow is tasked with safeguarding their Empyrean; Marika’s only use for Maliketh was to seal Destined Death, suggesting the path to the Divine Gate had little resistance. Lastly there is also no mention of any Hornsent divine candidate, so consider – it was always meant to be Marika. As you can imagine, this changes the relationship between Marika and the other Shamans significantly (but note how Godwyn’s assassins were Numen).

So, what did the Hornsent want out of their god? Perhaps it was the ability control the Elden Ring?

The Scadutree’s asymmetrical shape is blamed on a lack of ‘capital O’ Order. The Elden Ring as is known, can be used to create Order. I bring this up because there is a symmetrical ‘Spiral Tree’ motif that appears in Hornsent culture.

Did the Hornsent plan to create a god because the Scadutree failed to achieve its prophesized form? Was the hope that Marika would succeed with a new order-infused tree? If true, then the Serosh-Godfrey conflict was likely about claiming the Elden Ring from Farum (note; you can find Crucible Knights and Beastmen fighting there).

The elephant in the room for this theory is whether Marika was ever subject to the Jar-Saint ritual? It certainly gives a neat explanation for Radagon’s origin (a Lord is needed for a god to incarnate, and Marika stands alone at her own ascension). I don’t have a good answer, but (as stated earlier) we can rule out ideas where violence was forcibly inflicted on Marika. This leaves 2 options…

Marika was the only Shaman never put in a jar. She rose to power off the sacrifice of her kin.

Marika willing chose the jar. Which sounds completely insane, but religious ordeals seem commonplace in pre-Erdtree religion (see. Curseblades, Lamenters, Tutelary Deities).

4. Messmer’s Crusade is later historical event

Consider the following.

Messmer is familiar with Tarnished as a concept

Messmer is a demigod, but has no Great Rune

Messmer’s relationship (in terms of seniority) to Rellana, Gaius and Radahn

Messmer’s army includes troops that are standard of later eras; Perfumers, Omenkillers, Tree Sentinels, Abductor Virgins and various Carian troops. Which could be over-interpreting game-assets, but eh?

Ritual combat exists in the Land of Shadow

This is to say; Messmer’s Crusade occurs after Godfrey’s exile, but not too far into the Marika-Radagon era.

If revenge was the motive, why wait for the passing of an entire age and the exile of the land's foremost military leader?

5. Messmer’s Crusade is about Purity

Its explicitly stated that Messmer’s Crusade was about purity (see. Crusade Insignia, Queelign and the various ghosts). With regard to the timeline above; the rationale for exterminating the Hornsent is simply the emerging Crucible taboo put into action (see. Crucible Talismans). This also explains why the Hornsent were not attacked during the Godfrey era.

So what changed? Perhaps Radagon returning to Marika created Golden Order Fundamentalism and all its present-day taboos?

In fact, the crusade as a whole seems to be a bloodbath between the Golden Order’s rejects - Messmer the serpent, Gaius the Albinauric and the Crucible worshipping Hornsent.

Couple more points...

Prejudice vs. Albinaurics might be an emerging opinion at this time, Gaius is both second in command but also a subject of mockery.

Messmer and the crusade are such a dishonor in Leyndell that it is later covered up. Again, if the motivation was to avenge Marika, then why such attitudes?

Belurat does not have a standing army. Sure, the tower has guards, but Ritual Dancers had to be repurposed to fight the invaders.

What Im saying here is; rather than being a foreign nation, Belurat was simply a city within Marika’s empire. Purged for practicing the ‘old ways’ (ie. Crucible worship).

6. Messmer’s Curse?

What is the Abyssal Serpent? What is Messmerfire? Other than the general Erdtree taboo, each of the other ‘flames’ have a distinct property (both in gameplay mechanic and lore) - Blackflame can kill divine beings, Frenzied Flame melts anything into primordial elements.

Messmerfire has a unique aesthetic, and that’s it?

7. A Tower to Heaven

Some ideas about the nature of Divine Ascension.

As per SotE; there seems to be an implication that the sky above holds a tangible divine paradise; the ‘Higher Spheres’. Ascension to godhood quite literally involves reaching into heaven via. Divine Gate.

The building of a Divine Gate also seems to merely be the final step in the process, establishing a connection between Higher Spheres and the mortal world.

Enir-Ilim provides a template to how the whole process might have worked. Firstly, the Divine Gate must be positioned to reach the sky – in the case of the Hornsent, a tower was used (though there might be other options). Vast amounts of sacrifices are also needed, potentially related to the earlier point as throughout Enir-Ilim, architecture is blended with bodies (are corpses used to make buildings fly?). Given that the Divine Gate continues to function at present, long after becoming petrified; Id’ argue that the sacrifice was about creating said gate, rather than a repeated ritual necessary for achieving divinity. I think it’s also safe to say that the main reason for making Jar-Saints was to provide said sacrifices.

The main point however, is that this ‘Corpse Architecture + Sky’ template can be found in 2 other instances – Farum Azula and The Eternal Cities.

This is not a comment on timeline, just shared goals in creating divinity. In Farum Azula’s case, it suggests that the city has always been airborne, flying due to the numerous Dragons and Beastmen entombed within the city (as opposed to meteor aftermath). Also note that Maliketh’s room (which holds a depiction of the Elden Ring and a statue of an unknown woman) sits at the top of a vast spiral stair where the lower part has since been lost.

As for the Eternal Cities? They seem to be attempting divine ascension without finger influence (see. Fingerslayer Blade), with the sky and lord both being ‘created’. Recalling the Nox-Numen-Black Knife-Marika connection, the Eternal City version of this ritual might very well be direct response to Marika’s own ascension.

8. Great Chain of Being

Next, I want to talk about the nature of the paradise. Rather, the idea that Paradise, The Crucible and the Primeval Current are elements within a larger system (if not entirely synonymous).

SotE gives a glimpse into the Crucible’s appearance: it’s an outpouring of ‘golden stuff’ (see. Divine Bird Feathers) that can be stabilized into a spiral column that links gods and humans (see. Spira). With this in mind, take note of the form of Elden Stars. Compare with the creation account (both Ymir and Hyetta versions); The Greater Will fractures the One Great, spilling stardust (carrying life and souls) across space.

Sure, this is *very handwavy*, but one can imagine a cosmology where life is carried in stardust (Primeval Current), reaches physical worlds and pours from sky to earth (Crucible current, also Bird Warriors are closest to the Crucible). A chain linking back to the very origin of all things.

As commonly noted, ER is known to homage old ideas with regards to philosophy/science. Consider here the ‘Great Chain of Being’, an idea that classifies things on a descending scale of God>Angel>Human>Animal etc. Under this classification scheme, a chain/ladder motif is used to depict these relationships (see. Spira), but more importantly; Angels are thought of as beings of pure spirit (more on this below).

Usual disclaimer that history is not my expertise.

9. God Incarnates

Given the Divine Gate does not seem to lead anywhere physical, are the Higher Spheres a realm of pure spirit? The Sculpted Keeper custom (incl. Lion Dancers, Bird/Beast Warriors) involves the invoking/possession of mortal beings by spirits from the Higher Spheres. The whole practice of horn cultivation exists to enable this.

Going further back in time, the Rauh society had a practice of carving stones to act as homes for spirits. Rauh also seems associated with Golems, Ruined Forges and Divine Towers (details on this culture are for another time)

You could argue that invoking divinity is the connection across time between Rauh, the Hornsent and then finally Marika.

The passage of history is: God inhabits a statue (Idols), God can be channeled (Mediums), God walks among man (Messiah).

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Thanks for reading.

#elden ring #sote spoilers #shadow of the erdtree #elden ring lore #worldbefore

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