#soon as it’s more interpersonal

[soliusss]

any autistic people have any tips or scripts for customer service interactions? I’m still trying to build mine and my job is now 200 percent more stressful because they dragged me out of the windowless dungeon (stockroom) to put me on the sales floor to shill product. Really hard for me to walk up and bother people, I have a mental block and while I don’t think they fire people for underperforming at Shilling, I REALLY want to keep this job because it PAYS. My nature is to not bother people and now it’s my job. And half the people in there don’t speak much English and it makes me feel worse 😭

[duckiemimi]

the jujutsu system is not one that operates independently because it's state-sanctioned, and i wonder if that (along with the cultural context of tradition and hierarchy) is one of the reasons why gojo chose to stay and try to change things from the inside.

[yume-fanfare]

state of the idol industry: i sleep

tori and wataru talk about their feelings for eichi: *eyes wide open* REAL SHIT?

[payasitas]

i saw the tv glow a few days ago, and i still don’t even know how to properly relay the feelings that welled up within me as i was watching. despite desperately attempting to form the words to articulate what it articulated for me, as i try to untie my tongue. i can only really ascribe it to this spiritual and harrowing sensation of fully acknowledging the all encompassing static that had enveloped me in my own life, which was now sharpened and pushing my surroundings further and further away by the minute. a lot of this alienation was amplified by the screen in such a way that magnified my own need for escape and rebirth, but i'm still trying to figure out where those two desires truly begin and what i can unravel within me.

[unopenablebox]

i made a longer more irritating post about this that i deleted but ive been getting intensely sleepy between 6 and ~10pm lately so i decided to try actually going to bed around 8:30, since 🌸 is out of town and i'm often up until 2 bc im staying kind of synced to their schedule and am usually very sleepy

entirely predictably the result of this was that i fell asleep instantly, woke up at like midnight, and now it's 3:20 and i am simply not going back to sleep

[weidli]

unfortunately i think i am kind of fundamentally too chicken to watch supernatural

[caroloftheshells]

as, as it is said by the occupants who rally round the outer steps of parliament so, so it is said confidentially by the men and women working in the government: pick up, pick up the bayonet and run it through, run it through the stomach of your brother

[roturo]

SUCCESSOR -`♡´-

summary: He believes he’s going to die soon, and the idea of leaving the Kira case unfinished gnaws at him. The thought of his legacy fading away too soon is unbearable. He needs a successor. And soon.

warnings: A LOT of breeding, smut, unprocteted sex, overstimulation, multiple rounds, pwp, tummy buldge, mentions of cum, mating press, virgin!L, obssesed!L, mentions of forming a family, not proof read and sleepy while writing this. and more.

a/n: ik this is going to have as much support as my other works, but it's def one of my best and favs writings, so please show me your support with a comment and reblog! it means a lot for me!

You've been part of the task force for a while now, ever since L handpicked you for his elite team. As a regular member, you've earned your place and trust within the group. The necessity of keeping your identity hidden has diminished, thanks to the expanding team, but you still opt for an alias during meetings, maintaining a veil of secrecy around your true connection to L.

L’s mind is a labyrinth, each thought of a winding path leading to an unknown destination. His strategies are always a step ahead, his deductions razor-sharp. Yet, despite his brilliance, one specific thought has been haunting him lately:

He believes he’s going to die soon.

This isn't a paranoid delusion but a calculated assessment. L understands the immense dangers tied to the Kira case. The complexity of the situation has grown, and he suspects an external force at play, one that eludes even his grasp. This unknown entity has shifted the balance, making the case more perilous than ever.

L is determined not to let his legacy end prematurely. He has dedicated his life to solving the world’s most challenging mysteries, and the idea of leaving the Kira case unfinished gnaws at him. The thought of his legacy fading away too soon is unbearable.

He needs a successor.

And soon.

Finding someone who can match his intellect and tenacity is no simple task. The successor must be able to understand his intricate methods, to carry on his relentless pursuit of justice. The urgency of this mission weighs heavily on him, as he prepares to identify and groom the next guardian of his legacy.

You were the perfect match for him, and his calculations confirmed it. There was an 86% probability that having a child with you would result in someone with a higher IQ than his own, combined with the social skills he lacked. In the realm of interpersonal relationships, L was inexperienced, never having had a relationship or intimacy before. Recently, he had been contemplating how to propose this idea to you.

Should he ask you outright? Should he try to make you fall in love with him first? No, this wasn't about love. It was a precaution, a step in his investigation, a way to ensure his legacy continued if the worst were to happen.

The atmosphere in the headquarters was tense as always, the dim lighting casting long shadows across the room. You sat at your desk, engrossed in your work, when L’s quiet footsteps approached. His presence was magnetic, his aura of mystery and intellect always palpable. He paused beside you, his gaze fixed on the monitors displaying the latest updates on the Kira case.

“Can we talk?” His voice was soft, almost hesitant, a rare departure from his usual confident demeanor.

You looked up, surprised by the uncharacteristic uncertainty in his tone. “Of course, L. What’s on your mind?”

He shifted, glancing around the room as if searching for the right words. “There’s something I need to discuss with you. It’s… personal.”

Your curiosity piqued, you nodded, giving him your full attention. “I’m listening.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours. “You’re aware of the importance of my work, of the dangers we face daily. The Kira case has made me realize that I must consider contingencies I hadn’t thought of before.”

You nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“There’s a… statistical analysis I’ve conducted,” he said, his voice becoming more clinical as he explained. “It suggests that if I were to have a child with someone of your intelligence and social capabilities, the child would have a higher IQ than mine and possess the social skills I lack. This could be crucial in continuing my work if anything were to happen to me.”

The gravity of his words hit you like a ton of bricks. L, always methodical and rational, had approached this highly personal matter with the same analytical mindset he used to solve cases. You could see the logic in his plan, yet the implications were overwhelming.

“So, you want me to… have a child with you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Yes,” he replied, his eyes unwavering. “But understand, this is not about emotions or personal desire...I think” He whispers to himself before he continues– “It’s a precaution, a part of my contingency planning. I’ve never experienced a relationship or intimacy, so I’m uncertain how to approach this.”

The room seemed to close in around you as you processed his request. It was a cold, calculated proposition, yet it carried a weight of vulnerability and trust. L was placing his future, his legacy, in your hands.

“How do you expect this to work, L?” you asked, your voice tinged with both curiosity and trepidation.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted, his facade of invincibility cracking slightly. “I’ve considered different approaches. Should I simply ask you directly? Should I try to make you fall in love with me first? But this isn’t about love. It’s about ensuring that if I am no longer here, someone capable can continue my work.”

A silence fell between you, heavy with unspoken thoughts and emotions. L’s eyes searched yours, looking for understanding, perhaps even acceptance. You could see the conflict within him, the struggle between his logical mind and the unfamiliar territory of human connection.

“I need time to think about this,” you finally said, your voice gentle but firm.

L nodded, a flicker of relief crossing his features. “Of course. Take all the time you need. This is not a decision to be made lightly.”

Finally, you made your decision.

One evening, you found L in his usual spot, hunched over his laptop, eyes glued to the screen. The dim light cast shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity of his focus. Taking a deep breath, you approached him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“L,” you said softly, breaking the silence. He looked up, his piercing gaze meeting yours.

“I’ve thought about what you asked,” you continued, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “And I agree.”

For a moment, L simply stared at you, processing your words. Then, slowly, he nodded, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of his desk. “Understood. Thank you for your cooperation.”

You took a seat across from him, the air between you charged with a new sense of purpose. “How do we proceed?”

L leaned back, his thumb brushing his bottom lip in thought. “We need to ensure this doesn’t disrupt our work or compromise the investigation. The task force must not be aware of our personal connection, as it could create complications.”

You nodded, understanding the delicate balance that needed to be maintained. L’s expression remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “I must admit that emotional connections are not my area of expertise. This will be… a learning experience.  Should… we do it tonight?”

“Ah- Ah- Slow down, L-Lawliet!” you gasped, your voice breaking with a mix of pleasure and urgency.

L’s thrusts were sloppy but fast, driven more by instinct than experience. His movements lacked rhythm, a clear sign of his inexperience. He had come twice already without withdrawing from you, his body responding purely on primal urges.

He had done his research, concluding that a mating press might be the most effective position for this purpose. But he never anticipated how overwhelmingly good it would feel. Was it like this with everyone? Or was it something unique because it was you?

His thrusts grew more erratic, almost desperate. Small whines escaped his mouth, each one tinged with your name like a prayer. You could feel every twitch, every movement inside you, the raw intensity of his desire almost too much to bear.

“L,” you whispered, trying to regain some control. “You need to… slow down.”

He nodded, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. “I’m trying,” he panted, his voice unsteady. “It’s just… so overwhelming.”

His usually sharp, calculating mind seemed lost in the haze of sensation. Every thrust, every brush of skin against skin, was a new experience for him. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between maintaining control and giving in to the raw pleasure.

He moaned at the familiar, overwhelming sensation of climaxing again, and you could feel your own release approaching. The intensity was almost unbearable when he grabbed a pillow and slipped it under your back, angling you into an even deeper mating press. His thrusts became more deliberate, his cock somehow reaching deeper, hitting your g-spot with precision over and over again.

The pleasure was so intense, so all-consuming, that all you could do was chant his name like a mantra, each syllable a prayer of ecstasy. “L-Lawliet,” you breathed, your voice trembling with the force of your impending climax.

He watched you with dark, hungry eyes, his own pleasure driving him to thrust harder, faster. “S-shit,” he gasped, his breath hitching, “I think—” His words dissolved into a whine as he came again inside you, his release flooding your womb with a desperate, addictive need.

This wasn’t just about producing a successor anymore. It was about the raw, primal satisfaction of filling you over and over again. He was captivated by the sight of your bodies joined, the way your mixed arousal leaked from where you were connected, glistening in the dim light.

“Lawliet,” you cried out, your own climax hitting you with the force of a tidal wave. Your body tightened around him, milking every last drop of his release as he continued to thrust, his movements erratic and needy.

He whimpered, the sound vibrating through his chest as he pressed his forehead against yours, his dark hair falling in a messy curtain around your face. “You feel… incredible,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion and exertion.

He groaned before pressing his lips to yours, the kiss deep and fervent. His cock remained erect inside you, pulsing with an insatiable desire. The feeling of having you this close, of being connected so intimately, was overwhelming. In that moment, he lost all sense of reason and the initial purpose behind his actions.

His mind, usually so sharp and focused on the Kira case, was now clouded with visions of a future he never thought he'd consider. He imagined how adorable you would look, carrying his child, a baby with his eyes and your smile. The idea of having a family with you consumed him, pushing all thoughts of logic and strategy aside.

Without realizing it, he began thrusting again, the movement instinctual and desperate. Each thrust was deliberate, fulfilling the small bump of cum inside you that was already visible through your tummy. He watched in awe, fascinated by the sight of your bodies joined so intimately, the tangible evidence of his desire and your shared pleasure.

“L-Lawliet,” you gasped against his lips, your hands clutching his shoulders as he moved within you. “What... what are you thinking?”

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “I’m thinking… I’m thinking about us. About a future I never allowed myself to dream of.” His voice was rough with emotion, a raw edge that you rarely heard.

Your heart swelled at his words, the vulnerability in his usually composed demeanor striking a chord deep within you. “Lawliet,” you whispered, your fingers tracing the contours of his face. “I never imagined… I never thought you’d want this.Want me”

“I didn’t either,” he admitted, his thrusts growing more purposeful. “But now, with you, that's all I can think about. The idea of you carrying my child, of us having a family…you in general… it’s overwhelming.”

He kissed you again, more gently this time, savoring the softness of your lips against his. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through you, the sensation heightened by the emotional intensity of the moment. His hands roamed your body, memorizing every curve, every detail.

“Do you… do you want this too?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

“Yes,” you breathed, the admission freeing a weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. “I want this. I want us.”

His eyes darkened with a mix of relief and desire, and he kissed you harder, his movements inside you becoming more urgent. The room filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, each moan and gasp a testament to the bond growing between you.

As he continued to thrust, you could feel the tension coiling tighter within you, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. He seemed to sense it too, his rhythm intensifying as he chased his own release.

“Lawliet,” you cried out, your climax hitting you with the force of a tidal wave. Your body tightened around him, every nerve ending alight with sensation.

He groaned, his own release following closely behind, filling you once more. The feeling was addictive, the raw intimacy of it all-consuming. He held you close, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he whispered mostly to himself, his voice filled with wonder.

“Neither can I,” you replied, your heart pounding in sync with his. “But it feels right. It feels perfect.”

He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “It does.”

You stayed entwined like that, savoring the afterglow and the newfound depth of your connection. The Kira case and the outside world faded into the background, replaced by the warmth of each other’s presence and the promise of a future together.

Eventually, as the reality of your situation began to seep back in, you knew you had to return to your duties. But the bond you had forged would remain, a source of strength and comfort in the days to come.

As L gently pulled out and helped you adjust, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. “We’ll figure this out,” he said softly in a small whisper. “Together.”

“Together,” you echoed, your heart filled with a certainty that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them side by side.

[major-comet]

the biggest problem with tos’ episodic format is that the episode usually ends pretty quickly after the conflict resolves and then they never really talk about it again - no matter how intense or harrowing it was

which means that we don’t get to actually *see* the interpersonal fallout of bones being diagnosed with and cured from a previously-incurable terminal illness (that he didn’t even want to tell jim and spock he had), and then just four episodes later drugging them so that he can go be tortured (and likely die) instead of spock, and so jim doesn’t have to make the choice between them.

did they talk about it? beyond just a standard debrief and a “never fucking do that again bones i swear to god i mean it this time”? did they make it the captains’ quarters for the debrief, only for mccoy to be pulled into a crushing, trembling hug as soon as the door shut while jim tried to assure himself that bones was still here, was still breathing? spock hovering nearby - a hand gently coming to rest on his shoulder?

why didn’t mccoy want to tell them about the xenopolycythemia, anyways? to try and hold onto a few more normal-ish months before every time they looked at him their eyes would be filled with grief - mourning a man they hadn’t yet lost? the same reason he ran away; to spare them what he went through with his father?

only for him to immediately turn around and throw himself back to the wolves to (almost) die right in front of them anyways

i don’t really know how they handled it. whether they talked about it and attempted to soothe the hurt, or just resolutely tried to bottle it up.

but i do know this: spock eventually came back from gol because jim simply (though accidentally) called out for him in a moment of need. bones only came back because jim personally drafted him back into starfleet

[orcelito]

Also yes I did manage to write more today and yes after eating I did end up liking it. It's very good for what it is.

[callsigns-haze]

His Shadow: Chp 5

masterlist part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

Azriel, secretly juggling his responsibilities and personal life, maintains a hidden relationship with YN, who works at a pleasure house in the Hewn City. She was his light, his love, his passion. Yet being his darkest secret is a hard role because life in the Hewn as a young female isn't the easiest as the two of you hold an even dark secret yet to be told...

Pairing: Azriel x reader

This series contains mature themes: Explicit depictions of violence, including physical and emotional. Themes of secrecy. Descriptions of difficult relationships, including strained familial and romantic dynamics. Mature sexual content. Themes of power, control, and manipulation within complex interpersonal relationships. Discussions of parenthood and the challenges associated with it, including postpartum experiences.

In the cozy, firelit warmth of the sitting room at the River House, Rhysand, Cassian, Feyre, Nesta, and Mor gathered, their conversation initially light, but soon shifting to more serious matters. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the faces of those present. Feyre sat comfortably beside Rhys, her hand resting on his, while Nesta lounged with a cup of tea, and Mor leaned back in her chair, a curious smile playing on her lips as she sensed the shift in the conversation.

Cassian, his usual easy-going demeanour tempered by a hint of concern, spoke first. “There’s something we wanted to discuss with you, ladies. Rhys and I... well, we’ve been noticing something off with Azriel lately.”

Feyre’s brow furrowed as she looked between her mate and Cassian. “What do you mean? Is he alright?”

Rhysand leaned forward, his violet eyes serious. “It’s hard to say. He’s been more withdrawn than usual, and we think we might know why. Yesterday, when Cassian and I were out... well, let’s just say we ended up at a certain pleasure house in the Hewn City.”

Mor raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, while Nesta sipped her tea, her expression unreadable but her eyes sharp with interest.

“While we were there,” Cassian continued, “we met a woman—YN. She works there, and... well, there’s something about her. Something that seems connected to Azriel’s recent behaviour.”

Feyre frowned, her thoughts racing. “Connected how?”

Rhys exchanged a glance with Cassian before answering. “She mentioned she has a baby, and a boyfriend. But there was something off about the way she spoke, as if she was hiding something. And today, we overheard her talking with one of the other employees. She mentioned she’s going shopping tomorrow. It got us thinking.”

Nesta’s gaze sharpened. “You think she’s involved in whatever’s been bothering Azriel?”

“We’re not sure,” Cassian admitted, running a hand through his hair. “But something about it all doesn’t sit right. Azriel has been acting strange, and we know he’s been keeping secrets. YN might be part of that.”

Feyre’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she considered this. “You’re suggesting we keep an eye on her? Maybe follow her while she’s shopping?”

Rhys nodded. “Exactly. If we can figure out what’s going on, we might be able to help Azriel. He’s been carrying something heavy, and we need to know if she’s involved.”

Mor’s smile faded into a more serious expression. “Do you really think this woman could be a threat?”

“Not necessarily a threat,” Rhys said carefully. “But she might be the key to understanding why Azriel has been so distant. If she’s somehow involved in whatever he’s going through, it’s worth looking into.”

Nesta leaned forward, setting her teacup down with a decisive clink. “So, you want us to go to the Hewn City, shop around, and see what we can find out?”

Rhys nodded. “Exactly. It’s a perfect cover—just a day out shopping. No one would suspect anything. But keep your eyes and ears open.”

Feyre, ever protective of her family, glanced at her sister and Mor before nodding. “We can do that. We’ll go tomorrow and see what we can learn.”

Cassian grinned, his usual mischief returning. “Just try not to get into too much trouble.”

Nesta shot him a dry look. “Speak for yourself, Cassian.”

The room fell into a comfortable silence as the women considered the plan, the gravity of the situation weighing on them. But before they could delve deeper into the details, the sound of approaching footsteps made them all fall silent. The atmosphere shifted as Azriel walked into the room, his presence immediately felt by everyone.

“Evening,” Azriel greeted, his voice as calm and measured as ever, though his sharp gaze seemed to linger on Rhysand and Cassian, as if he sensed the undercurrent of tension.

“Azriel,” Rhysand greeted smoothly, masking any trace of the conversation that had just taken place. “We were just catching up. How was your day?”

Azriel studied them for a moment, his expression unreadable as always, before nodding slightly. “Productive. Any new developments?”

“Nothing worth noting,” Cassian said casually, though there was an almost imperceptible tension in his posture. “Just the usual.”

Azriel didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he let it slide, moving to stand by the window, his gaze distant as he looked out at the night sky. The others exchanged a brief glance, silently agreeing to keep their suspicions to themselves for now. There would be time to investigate tomorrow, and until then, they would carry on as if nothing had changed.

But as the conversation shifted to more mundane topics, each of them knew that something had shifted. Secrets were being kept—by all of them—and the truth was only growing more complicated with each passing day.

---

The next day, Feyre, Nesta, and Mor found themselves in the bustling streets of the Hewn City. Despite its dark reputation, the city was alive with activity, the market streets crowded with merchants hawking their wares, and shoppers moving between the various stalls and shops. Feyre kept her hood up, blending into the shadows cast by the tall buildings, though she still felt the weight of curious glances as they walked. She had been to the Hewn City before, but never for something as delicate as this.

As they approached the heart of the market district, Feyre felt Rhysand’s presence brush against her mind, his voice a soft whisper in her thoughts. She’s just ahead, looking at some baby clothes. You’ll recognize her by the dark hair and the buggy. Along with his words came a series of images—snapshots of YN that Rhys had seen when he and Cassian visited the pleasure house with Azriel. A woman with soft, dark hair, delicate features, and an air of quiet strength, even in the depths of the Hewn City.

“Got it,” Feyre whispered back, nodding slightly as she looked to Nesta and Mor, who were both scanning the crowd. “She’s just ahead. Let’s keep our distance.”

The three women wove their way through the crowd, carefully avoiding drawing any attention. The further they walked, the darker the shops became—both in ambiance and in merchandise. The shift was subtle, the luxury of the Hewn City marred by the unmistakable undertone of cruelty and excess. Feyre’s gaze flicked from shadowed alleyways to the opulent yet ominous storefronts, the contrast of the city always unsettling her.

Finally, they spotted YN. She was pushing a simple buggy, dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a cozy sweater, her hair pulled back in a loose bun. The baby in the buggy was small, barely a few weeks old, wrapped snugly in a soft blanket. YN’s movements were slow, deliberate, as she browsed through a rack of tiny clothes, her eyes scanning the options with the intent focus of a mother lost in her thoughts.

“There she is,” Mor murmured, nodding subtly towards YN. Feyre and Nesta followed her gaze, taking in the sight of the woman who had unknowingly become a focal point of their investigation.

Feyre watched as YN reached out to touch a soft onesie, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she ran her fingers over the fabric. Her expression, though serene, carried a weight of exhaustion—something Feyre recognized all too well from her own early days with Nyx.

As YN continued to shop, the baby in the buggy began to fuss, tiny whimpers breaking the quiet air around them. YN immediately turned her attention to her child, her smile softening as she bent down to pick up the baby, cradling him against her chest. She rocked gently, her lips moving in what Feyre could only assume were soothing words.

“Is that...?” Nesta started, her voice low as she observed the interaction.

“I think so,” Feyre replied, keeping her voice just as quiet. “The baby must be hers. The one she mentioned to Cassian and Rhys.”

Mor narrowed her eyes slightly as she watched YN. “She doesn’t seem like a threat. But still... there’s something more going on here.”

Feyre nodded in agreement. YN’s demeanour, her clothing, the way she cradled her baby—none of it aligned with the typical image of someone who might be a danger or have any influence over Azriel. She seemed more like a woman trying to balance the weight of motherhood with whatever burdens life had thrown her way.

They kept their distance as YN continued to shop, picking out a few more baby items and placing them in the buggy’s basket. Her movements were unhurried, as if she had all the time in the world, though the lines of tension in her posture suggested otherwise. Feyre noted how YN would glance around occasionally, her gaze lingering on the shadows, as if expecting someone or something to emerge from them.

As they trailed behind, YN paused in front of a shop that displayed more elaborate and ornate baby clothes, clearly beyond the simple, practical items she had been selecting. The baby fussed again, a soft cry escaping his tiny lips, and YN immediately lifted him out of the buggy, holding him close as she bounced him gently in her arms.

The women watched as YN whispered to her son, the love and care evident in every movement, every soft murmur. Feyre felt a pang of empathy for the young mother—she knew all too well the fears and challenges that came with raising a child, especially in a world as dangerous as theirs. But beneath that empathy was also a growing curiosity. What was YN’s connection to Azriel? And why was she so deeply enmeshed in his recent troubles?

As YN continued her slow stroll through the market, the shadows of the Hewn City seemed to close in around her, a stark contrast to the warmth she tried to create for herself and her newborn son. She adjusted the blanket around Knox, who had finally settled against her chest, his tiny breaths warm and steady against her skin. The cool air brushed against her cheeks as she looked around, scanning the shops with a mixture of exhaustion and resignation.

She pushed the buggy with one hand while holding Knox in the other, her movements careful and deliberate. The market was as lively as ever, with vendors calling out their wares and patrons haggling for better prices. The sounds echoed through the narrow streets, but YN seemed isolated in her own world, focused entirely on her son and the tasks she had to complete.

Feyre, Nesta, and Mor remained several paces behind, moving with practiced ease through the crowds, keeping YN within their line of sight. They observed her every movement—the way she delicately placed each item in the buggy’s basket, how she lingered over certain displays, and the protective way she held her son close to her heart. There was something undeniably tender about the way she interacted with Knox, a deep bond that resonated even from a distance.

“She seems so... normal,” Mor whispered, her voice barely audible above the hum of the market. “Not at all what I expected.”

“Maybe that’s why she’s so dangerous,” Nesta murmured, her eyes sharp as she watched YN pick up a small, hand-knit sweater. “If she’s involved with Azriel, she’s hiding it well.”

Feyre frowned slightly, torn between her suspicions and the simple reality of what she was witnessing—a mother, caring for her child, doing what she needed to do to survive in a place as unforgiving as the Hewn City. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for spying on YN, but she reminded herself of the stakes. Azriel was one of their own, and they needed to understand what was happening to help him.

YN moved to another stall, her gaze flicking over a selection of baby blankets. She reached out to touch the fabric, her fingers lingering on a soft, blue woolen blanket that was far more luxurious than anything she had chosen so far. She held it up, considering it for a long moment before shaking her head and placing it back on the pile. It was clear that practicality outweighed indulgence in her world.

Knox stirred slightly in her arms, his tiny fist clenching around the edge of her sweater as he fussed again. YN immediately shifted him, her voice low and soothing as she murmured to him. She kissed his forehead, her expression softening as he settled back into a peaceful sleep. She glanced around the market, her gaze momentarily distant, as if lost in thought. For a moment, she seemed entirely alone, despite the crowd bustling around her.

Mor tilted her head slightly, observing the way YN seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. “Whatever she’s involved in, it’s taking its toll.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Feyre said softly, though she couldn’t ignore the sense of unease settling in her chest. “She might not be a threat.”

Nesta’s expression remained hard, but there was a flicker of something softer in her eyes as she watched YN finally select a plain white onesie, placing it gently in the buggy. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

YN finished her shopping, her steps slow and measured as she made her way toward the edge of the market, the buggy rolling smoothly along the cobblestone streets. Knox was still cradled in her arms, his small face tucked against her shoulder. She seemed tired—more than just physically—but she moved with the determination of someone who had long grown accustomed to the weight of her burdens.

“Let’s give her space,” Feyre whispered, signaling to Nesta and Mor to hang back as they reached the outskirts of the market. “We’ll follow up with Rhys and Cassian later.”

They slowed their pace, letting YN disappear into the shadows of the narrow street ahead. As she faded from view, Feyre couldn’t shake the feeling that they were missing something crucial. There was more to YN than they had seen today, more than a young mother simply trying to care for her child in a difficult world.

-

YN stood at the base of the narrow, winding steps that led up to the small apartment she shared with Azriel, cradling Knox in her arms. The cool air of the Hewn City brushed against her skin, making her shiver slightly. The streets around her were quiet, the bustle of the market now a distant memory as she and her son returned home from their shopping trip.

Knox had fallen asleep during the short walk back, his tiny body relaxed and warm against her chest. She adjusted the blanket around him, pressing a soft kiss to his downy hair. His small, steady breaths were the only sound she focused on as she stood there, momentarily lost in her thoughts.

But the unease she’d felt earlier at the market lingered, a nagging sense of being watched that she couldn’t quite shake. She had caught glimpses of figures moving just at the edge of her vision, people who seemed to linger too long as she shopped, their attention on her more than the goods on display. YN had kept her composure, acting as though she hadn’t noticed, but her instincts told her something wasn’t right.

She took a deep breath, pushing the unsettling thoughts aside as she gazed up the stairs, preparing to climb them with Knox in her arms. Just as she was about to take her first step, the flutter of wings caught her attention, and she looked up to see Azriel descending from the sky, his shadows swirling around him as he landed silently in front of her.

His eyes, usually so composed and unreadable, softened when they met hers, and she felt a wave of relief wash over her at the sight of him. Despite everything, despite the secrecy and the hidden life they shared, Azriel was her anchor.

"Azriel," she breathed, her voice a mixture of surprise and relief. She had been expecting him to be gone for longer, given the tension of the last few days.

“YN,” he greeted, his voice low and warm, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he took in the sight of his son nestled against her. But as he stepped closer, he immediately noticed the tension in her posture, the way her eyes darted around the street as if she was still on edge. “What’s wrong?”

She hesitated for a moment, glancing around again, as if expecting someone to emerge from the shadows. Finally, she met his gaze, her voice quiet but laced with concern. “I think I was being watched today. At the market. I... I could feel eyes on me, and not just in passing. It was deliberate, like someone was studying me.”

Azriel’s expression darkened instantly, the softness in his eyes replaced by a steely resolve. His shadows seemed to react to his mood, swirling more tightly around him as if preparing for a threat. “Did you see who it was?”

YN shook her head, frustration evident in the tight lines around her mouth. “No. I tried to be discreet, but whoever it was, they were good at staying out of sight. I didn’t want to draw attention by looking too hard.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched as he processed her words, his mind already racing through the possibilities. The Hewn City was full of people who could have an interest in YN, and not all of them would be friendly. The fact that someone had been watching her—someone skilled enough to remain undetected—was deeply troubling.

He stepped closer to her, reaching out to gently brush his fingers against her arm in a comforting gesture, though he kept his touch light, aware of the public space they were in. “We’ll figure out who it was. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

YN nodded, though her worry didn’t fully dissipate. She had known the risks of being with Azriel, but it didn’t make the reality of them any easier to face. She glanced down at Knox, who remained blissfully unaware in her arms, and her resolve hardened. She would do whatever it took to protect their son.

Azriel leaned in closer, his head dipping toward hers as if to whisper something, but she knew the movement was as much about shielding their interaction from any prying eyes as it was about speaking. His proximity was both a comfort and a reminder of the secrecy they were forced to maintain.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “For everything. For not being able to protect you both the way I should.”

YN looked up at him, her expression softening as she reached up to touch his face, her thumb brushing against his cheek. “Don’t apologize. We knew what this would be when we chose it. We’ll figure it out together, like we always do.”

He nodded, though the tension didn’t fully leave his features. He lowered his gaze to Knox, his expression softening as he reached out to gently touch his son’s tiny hand. The baby stirred slightly but didn’t wake, his small fingers curling around Azriel’s.

“I’ll be home tonight,” he said softly, his eyes lifting to meet hers again. “We’ll talk more then.”

YN nodded, understanding the unspoken promise in his words. “I’ll be waiting.”

Azriel lingered for a moment longer, his eyes searching hers as if to reassure himself that she was truly okay. Then, with one last glance around the deserted street, he stepped back, his wings flaring slightly as he prepared to take off again. YN watched him go, her heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid, of the life they were forced to hide in the shadows.

---

Azriel sat at his desk in the dim light of his office, his fingers steepled beneath his chin as he stared at the maps and reports scattered across the surface. The room was eerily quiet, save for the faint rustling of the papers as his shadows drifted over them, their movements restless and agitated. He couldn’t shake the nagging sense of unease that had settled deep in his chest since YN had told him about being watched in the market.

His thoughts were a tangle of possibilities, each more troubling than the last. The Hewn City was a treacherous place, filled with spies and informants loyal to whoever paid the highest price. If someone had been watching YN, it could mean any number of things—a rival, an enemy, or even someone trying to get to him through her. The thought sent a cold shiver down his spine, a rare surge of fear that he quickly buried beneath layers of calculated resolve.

But as he sat there, letting the silence settle around him, something didn’t quite add up. Whoever had been watching YN was skilled, yes, but the timing, the precision—it felt too familiar. His instincts, honed over centuries of espionage, were telling him that this wasn’t just a random occurrence. There was something more deliberate behind it, something closer to home.

It was then that the faint sound of voices reached his ears, muffled by the thick walls of his office but distinct enough for him to catch fragments of conversation. Azriel’s shadows swirled more tightly around him as he focused on the voices outside in the hallway, recognizing the low, familiar tones of Cassian and Mor.

“…I just wanted to be sure she wasn’t a threat,” Cassian was saying, his voice carrying a hint of defensiveness. “It’s not like we could just ask him outright.”

Mors voice responded, tinged with a mix of concern and frustration. “I get it, but what if he finds out? You know how protective he is—especially after everything that’s happened.”

“Rhys told us to keep an eye on her,” Mor continued. “We weren’t going to hurt her, just… observe. Make sure she wasn’t involved in anything that could put him or the rest of us in danger.”

Azriel’s breath caught, realization dawning like a slow, creeping shadow.

The inner circle.

It was the inner circle who had been watching YN, trailing her through the market, spying on her every move. His fists clenched beneath the desk, a mix of anger and betrayal swirling in his chest. They had been so close to finding out—so close to uncovering the one secret he had kept from them, the one part of his life he hadn’t allowed them to touch.

He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to remain calm, to not let his emotions betray him. There was no point in confronting them—not yet, at least. If they suspected YN of being a threat, it was only because they were trying to protect him, in their own misguided way. But the thought of them tailing her, of making her feel unsafe in the one place where she should feel protected… it made his blood boil.

Azriel pushed back from the desk, rising to his feet with a quiet, controlled movement. He had to get out of here before the anger bubbling beneath his calm exterior spilled over. He needed to be with YN, to ensure her safety and shield her from any further interference. He would deal with the inner circle later.

As he stepped out of his office, the voices in the hallway fell silent. Cassian and Mor looked up as he passed by, their expressions carefully neutral, though Cassian’s brow furrowed slightly as if he could sense something was off. Azriel didn’t acknowledge them, his face an unreadable mask as he walked past, but he could feel their eyes on him, could sense the questions lingering on their tongues.

Just as he reached the main hall, he was tackled by a blur of movement, the sudden impact almost knocking him off balance. He looked down to see Nyx, Rhys’s son, grinning up at him, his small arms wrapped tightly around Azriel’s leg. A second later, Agnar, Cassian’s son, joined in, his laughter ringing through the air as he attempted to climb up Azriel’s other leg.

“Uncle Azriel!” Nyx shouted, his bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “We got you!”

Azriel couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips as he ruffled Nyx’s dark hair. “It seems you did,” he replied, his voice softer than it had been all day. Despite the turmoil in his mind, he could never resist the infectious energy of his nephews.

He lifted Agnar into his arms, the boy’s wings fluttering excitedly as he settled against Azriel’s shoulder. Nyx clung to his other side, laughing as Azriel hoisted him up as well, balancing both boys with ease.

As he carried them down the hallway, he passed Rhys, who was leaning casually against the doorway of his office, arms crossed over his chest. Rhys raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on Azriel’s unusual demeanor.

“Azriel,” Rhys called out, his tone light but laced with curiosity. “Heading somewhere?”

Azriel met his gaze, his expression carefully guarded. “I’m taking a week off,” he said simply, his voice brokering no argument.

Rhys blinked, clearly taken aback. “A week off? Are you—”

“Don’t worry,” Azriel cut him off, shifting Nyx and Agnar slightly in his arms. “Everything will be handled.” He didn’t wait for Rhys to respond before he turned and continued down the hall, his steps purposeful as he made his way out of the house.

Once outside, Azriel set the boys down, giving each of them a quick hug before sending them back to the house. He watched them run off, their laughter echoing in the air, before he spread his wings and took off into the sky.

The wind whipped through his hair as he soared above Velaris, his mind already focused on the apartment where YN and Knox were waiting. Whatever plans the inner circle had, whatever suspicions they harbored, he would not allow them to come between him and his family.

Azriel landed silently on the balcony of their apartment, the cool night air whispering through his wings as he folded them behind him. The familiar creak of the floorboards under his boots as he stepped inside was a comforting sound, grounding him in the reality he had chosen—a reality where YN and Knox were his world, even if it had to remain hidden from everyone else.

Let me know if you'd wish to be tagged! Comments and reblogs are really appreciated!

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Keep hearing people say maribug keep asking adricat if he's ok and he keep saying he's ok instead of telling her his problem but I don't remember it happened more than once in s4 in Rockettear but even then the circumstances of that episode did warrant the "nothing" answer he gave her unless he want to tell her that "nino tell me you let nino and alya know each other identity" which will reveal adricat identity. So when else did she ask? about the thing in hack-san, I think another credit goes to alya since she's the one who bring the topic to maribug who seems to be blissfully unaware that her leaving without telling adeicat that she send subtitute would be a problem.

I didn't get into this side of things in my other post because it was long and I wanted to focus on why Chat Noir's behavior was so frustrating, but this ask brings up the other big reason why the season four conflict was such a frustrating and terribly written plot line. Specifically, the part of your ask where you point out that Maribug seems blissfully unaware that her actions are having a negative impact on Chat Noir until someone points it out to her.

Yes, she is presented as blissfully unaware of this and every other interpersonal conflict we're given in season four. Your ask treats this as a failing on Maribug's part as if she should have obviously realized that she was in the wrong, but that's the whole problem. Telling kids - telling anyone really - that they should just magically know what others need is a frankly terrible life lesson as that's just not how the world works. You cannot just assume that everyone will have the same view of the world as you do and instantly pick up on the same issues as you do. That is the path to easily avoidable frustration and conflict. It also teaches people to assume that their view of the world is inherently correct when that is rarely the case. We often don't know the whole story and the other person's point of view may end up being equally or even more valid. This issue is extremely present in season four as Marinette has legitimate reasons to behave the way she does, which I'll get into in a bit.

If Marinette were written as feeling guilty about how she was treating Chat Noir, then this would be a different story. She'd be way more in the wrong and would shoulder a much greater portion of the blame. But as is? She has no idea that she's doing anything wrong. And until someone takes the time to tell her that her actions are causing harm, she is going to continue causing harm because she has no idea that she's causing harm.

In fact, I'd argue that the Alya thing in Hack San is a point in Maribug's favor. Throughout the episode, we see Marinette sending Alya messages on ways to be a good partner to Chat Noir, proving that she does in fact care about him. And then, as soon as Alya says, "You need to talk to Chat Noir," what does Maribug do?

She goes and talks to Chat Noir, giving him a pretty good apology for the problem she now knows she caused. Because, shockingly, Maribug doesn't actually want to hurt her partner. She also clearly cares about his feelings, making me want to take the season four conflict and tear it into itty bitty pieces because what is the conflict even supposed to be when you write shit like this?

I want to briefly step away from Miraculous and talk about this issue in a broader context via this YouTube short:

This short is from a Vietnamese woman who moved to Germany. Her YouTube channel is about her experiences there, including things like the short above which goes into the differences between what it means to be a dinner guest in Vietnam and what it means to be a dinner guest in Germany. In Vietnam, it's apparently standard for the guests to cook dinner with you where as, in Germany, you're expected to have the meal ready when the guests arrive, making this a situation where it's super easy to come across as rude just by doing what you think is normal.

Society is relatively aware that these types of culture clashes are a thing, but you don't have to be from different cultures to have these types of situations. Every person has their own unique needs and ideas of what "normal" is. The culture they were raised in will affect this, but so will their family, their personal needs, and many other factors. Two people can be raised on the same street and wind up with wildly different world views even though they supposedly share a culture. This is extra true when you add in compounding factors like neurodiversity, which is why it's an exercise in futility to say, "But Maribug should have realized..."

Well, she clearly didn't. And you can't change that she didn't realize whatever you're mad about. All you can do is have someone tell her what she's doing wrong. If she then continues the behavior, go ahead and judge away. But if she immediately corrects it like she did in Hack San? Doesn't that just prove that she truly didn't know that Chat Noir was hurting and would have probably fixed all of his problems if someone just pointed them out to her?

This is only exacerbated by the fact that Marinette's behavior in season four is largely unchanged from her behavior in previous seasons. The only major change is that she revealed her identity to Alya, but as soon as that's pointed out as a problem, she course corrects with an apology. After that, she thinks that everything is okay because why wouldn't she? Chat Noir said it was fine and everything else has been business as usual.

Bringing temp heroes into help as needed? That's been going on since season two. Having these additional members has been vital in multiple battles and there have been plenty of times where Chat Noir took a background role to the temp hero of the day like in Sapotis, Rena Rouge's season two debut. So why would Maribug suddenly think that this dynamic is a problem when it's been working fine for so long? We even had a whole episode about how Chat Noir was still needed in spite of the new heroes back in season three! Or, at least, I think that was Desperada's message? This show is shockingly bad at giving clear lessons.

Keeping guardian knowledge from Chat Noir? That's also been going on since season two and was even treated as a conflict that supposedly got resolved in the episode Syren which was the episode that ended with Master Fu coming to the mansion to talk to Adrien after everything was over.

When I watched that episode, I assumed this meant that Chat Noir was going to be more involved in things like picking the temp heroes. I actually thought this was how we were going to get Queen Bee because I knew she was going to be a thing, but it made no sense for Marinette to pick Chloe for a miraculous. Of course, I was wrong. Nothing changed after Syren. Chat Noir remained nothing more than the comic relief while Ladybug got all the insider info.

To be clear, I think that was a terrible move writing wise, but it doesn't change the fact that this is what they went with. This is the established dynamic. I can't even say that Alya learning Marinette's secret led to something new. She's just taken Marinette's old role while Marinette has taken on Master Fu's old role. This show loves it's status quo and Chat Noir has been at least tolerant of that status quo since Syren, so it's not surprising that Maribug doesn't register that this is a thing that should change and no one bothers to point it out to her even though she has a mentor in Tikki (and Su Han, I guess?) and a confidant in Alya and a whole slew of Kwamis who could also provide insight if they were allowed to do that sort of thing. (Sass and Wayzz were robbed of mentor roles.) Additional blame goes to Plagg because he should absolutely have told Adrien to talk to Ladybug. What is the point of giving these characters mentors who never mentor? It's aggravating in the extreme.

To circle back to the first part of your ask, outside of Hack San and Rocketear, I don't think there are any times when Ladybug invites feedback from Chat Noir unless you want to give credit to the end of Kuro Neko:

Cat Noir: (lands next to her) I've been a really temperamental kitty, m'lady. I didn't realize how much trouble I'd make for you by giving back my Miraculous. Ladybug: (sits closer to him) Just because I don't need you all the time doesn't mean that I don't need you at all, Cat Noir. No one could ever replace you.

Which isn't Maribug inviting him to tell her what's up, but she is clearly willing to listen to him and reassure him, further backing up my point about this conflict being some of the worst writing I've ever had to suffer through. If Maribug always fixes the issue as soon as she learns about it, you are not writing a situation where she's clearly in the wrong. You are writing an easily solved communication issue where she gets blamed for something she clearly doesn't realize she's doing wrong and it is so frustrating!!! I feel so bad for her. The next episode is Penalteam, btw, which starts the battle with this gem:

Ladybug: (laughs) Nice scare tactics, but it's not gonna work. Cat Noir and I are the best at soccer! Cat Noir: (Whispers to Ladybug) I don't know a thing about soccer M'lady. Maybe it's time to call the real team?

And basically just spends the whole episode making Chat Noir seems like a worthless partner while Maribug tries her best to make him - and everyone else - feel special.

Oh, and the episode before Kuro Neko? Well, it's technically Ephemeral, but that got magically overwritten so let's go one further back and we get to Dearest Family, which ends with this:

Cat Noir: (grabs a golden paper crown on the coffee table) Since I'm the king, (wears the crown on his head) would you be my queen, Ladybug? Ladybug: With pleasure, kitty cat! Tradition is tradition!

Oh yes, these two are in such conflict and Maribug does nothing to validate Chat Noir. He's in pain every episode and she's just totally oblivious to it.

If that was what they wrote, then I'd probably agree that we needed more instances of her asking if Chat Noir was okay. But it's not what they wrote. If you look through the list of season four episodes, you'll find that less than half of them deal with the supposed conflict of the season (by my count, only 8 of the 24 episodes before the final actually showcase the conflict and they are not in a logical order in terms of escalation as I tried to demonstrate above). The rest of the episodes flat out ignore it or even straight up work against the conflict like when Ladybug says this to Chat Noir in Guilttrip: "I probably don't tell you this enough, but I couldn't do this without you. And it'd be a lot less fun too."

Seriously, what even is this season? What is the conflict supposed to be? Because it sure as shit isn't Maribug undervaluing Chat Noir, if memory servers, season four sees her validate him more times than any other season. And it isn't her guiltily hiding things from him like so many fanfics claim because we have multiple points of evidence that prove that she's completely oblivious that there even is a conflict. So what conflict are the writers actually trying to write?

What's even more baffling is that none of this logically leads to the loss at the end of the season:

Maribug's new secrets didn't lead to her downfall. The only reason she lost was because of the secret that's always been there - a fact that's never revealed to her - and a freaking evil twin! So why did it matter that Maribug was keeping secrets? This is made even worse by season five maintaining all of the secrets, once again begging the question of what lesson were we trying to teach here???

Chat Noir wasn't needed for the final fight of the season, Maribug only needed the powers of a few of the temp heroes to win, a baffling ending to a season whose focus was Chat Noir feeling unimportant. You could scrap that conflict entirely and the ending would not change. In fact....

Adrien quitting to be nothing more than a good little boy who obeys his father would have actually saved the world from eventually being rewritten. If you think about it, the season four final actually punishes Adrien for being defiant. So does season five as, if Chat Noir had quit, his father would still be alive. I thought this show was supposed to be a romcom, not a tragedy. Why is Adrien being punished for being a hero? Is this supposed to be karma for lying to Ladybug with the whole Catwalker thing?

This shit is why I say I'm a writing salt, character sugar blog. I can't get mad at the characters when they're in such a nonsense story where things never logically tie together. They all deserve so much better.

None of this is meant to imply that ignorance is a blanket excuse for hurting others. Nor is it meant to imply that you have to forgive someone who hurt you just because they didn't mean to. There's a ton of nuance around these topics. But season four acknowledges none of that nuance while creating a situation that desperately needed nuance because there was no clear right and wrong here. Should Maribug work to be more aware of others feelings? Sure, but that journey can only start after she's made aware of her faults and no one ever points them out to her. Does Chat Noir need to work on clearly communicating his needs? Desperately, but no one is teaching him that lesson so he remains a terrible communicator who suffers in silence. What impressively bad writing.

[rogersideup]

｡°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini ♊︎ ✩ ° ｡

Series Masterlist

Steve Rogers x Agent! Reader (ft. Bucky Barnes)

After months of a seemingly normal and steady friendship, things take a complex turn. Steve learns a lesson about the intricacies of being a woman in a man’s world, interpersonal relationships, and the consequences of poor communication through the experiences of you, his favorite Gemini.

⋆｡°✩ ♊︎ MASTERLIST ♊︎ ✩ °｡⋆

⋆｡°♊︎ Chapter 1: Love You More

⋆｡°♊︎ Chapter 2: Wine And Dine

⋆｡°♊︎ Chapter 3: Expendable

⋆｡°♊︎ Chapter 4: Pink Peonies

⋆｡°♊︎ Chapter 5: Rearview

⋆｡°♊︎ Chapter 6: Little Birdie

⋆｡°♊︎ Chapter 7: Twinkles

⋆｡°♊︎ Chapter 8: True Romantic

⋆｡°♊︎ Chapter 9: Star Crossed Lover

⋆｡°♊︎ Chapter 10: May 20th

Complete

⋆｡°✩ ♊︎ EXTRAS ♊︎ ✩ °｡⋆

✧ Steve and Bug’s playlist: Listen to the same music Steve and Bug have compiled for each other, and get a sneak peek on the messages they’re sharing by letting the music speak for them. This is the same playlist from the story!

✧Thoughts: Here’s what people are saying about the story!

✷ TAG LIST ���

Want to join? Just ask! I’m always happy to have you here.

See you all soon ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[acotarxreader]

Hounded

Eris x Reader

Synopsis: Eris loves his dogs more than any other living thing and they love him but soon his eldest hound has found a new interest, you and your endless supply of bread rolls. An unlikely friendship begins to form between the Son of Autumn and one of Springs last border guards, Craos is just hoping to create some sort of parent trap situation.

Warning: Fluff, banter, blood, wounds, doggos, Eris shaming the dogs belly, poor editing

A/N: Hi friends! I orginally wrote this for @erisweekofficial for the Hounds theme however I've been really in the trenches recently and only got around to finishing it now, so I'm sad to have missed Eris week but still happy to be publishing my first Eris fic! Let me know what you think!

P.S Craos (cray-us) in Irish means blazing when referring to fire and Tine (tin-ah) means fire so I named two of the dogs after these words for a lil Irish flare

----------------------------------

The hounds were Eris’s greatest pride and occasionally his greatest pain in the ass. He fought with this very thought the day his eldest hound, Craos had managed to dip out of his view one walk. Eris blamed himself for losing sight of his favourite friend, so deep in the thoughts of worry about the Night Courts antics that threatened to expose his double agent status to his father. Actually, he blamed them for her escape, it was easier that way. The Autumn leaves crackled against the weight of his heavy boots, his voice getting lost in the whipping whirling wind of the forest far from his residence. Eris swung harshly around on his heels, just in time to catch Craos bounding up the hill towards him, mischievous as ever. 

“You scared me half to death girl” He laughed down at her, running his thumbs over her ears in soothing circles she loved so much, his other hounds leaping around waiting for their turn. She seemed to wish to pull him in the direction she bolted from, something tethering her to the distant spot in the vast woods. “Come girl, leave that hare to its escape love, you’re getting…fluffy enough without the extra feed” he laughed, leashing her to him and taking her from her pointed stance. Eris made a mental note to closely monitor Craos food as she began to get rounder than the others in the pack, no doubt owing to the budding Autumn wildlife she’d snag unaccompanied.

-

The following weeks lead Eris down a rabbit hole of Night Court intricacy, forever walking the line between ally and babysitter. He took comfort in the daily strolls through the thicket of woodland, his beloved pack in toe. The days he missed the walks he noticed his own demeanour change, his interest in the tangled interpersonal mess the Inner Circle was weaving waning beyond even an ounce of interest. Eris checked his hounds daily and despite their own vast staff, he loved to take care of them and nurture the breed while nurturing something he wasn’t even sure he still had inside himself. Some care for another living thing. Not in a selfish way of course, but more in a self-preservation sense, what he loved had a habit of crumbling in his hands or being crushed in someone else’s. 

Deep in thought, Eris ran a hand down the head of one of his younger hounds, Tine, who laid his head on the lap of his master as Eris tried to gain an understanding of the written correspondence on the desk. Tine grumbled against Eris’s thigh before stretching down to the ground. 

“Its tough work being pampered Tine” he laughed to himself, casting an eye on the other 4 hounds, curled into their own worlds by the fire of the study. Eris smiled softly at the relaxed nature, would any other living thing find such comfort in the company he provided? He forced the ever-present question away from his thoughts, casting a look to the sofa where Craos would often take her rest. Empty. Eris stood abruptly, chair screeching along the slate enough to have Tine stand to attention once again. Craos had been there when the others came in from their dinner? Hadn’t she? Another attempt by the Night Court to swipe away Eris’s attention buried him in paperwork when the dogs were returned to him. 

Quick on his feet, Eris and his pack found the staff of the kennels and after a brief and sharp discussion it was unclear if Craos was with the pack on return from her exercise. Following sharp threats, Eris took to the woodland again, his hounds hunting down their own with precision. His voice reverberated off ancient trees as their crisp golden leaves began to ink with lush green colour. Thoughts of the worst clouded the shrubbed path as Eris felt the border of Spring, his second least favourite place in the realm.

“Craos!” He echoed across a section of the stream border between Spring and Autumn. The mischievous hound leapt with excitement at the presence of her master, bounding through the shallow stream to return to Autumn and its son. He gave thanks for Spring's current instability as during time previous he wouldn’t have gotten this close to the Spring border without a visit from the furry High Lord. Eris couched into the silt of the streams bank, rubbing Craos's goofy face while quietly scolding her, knowing full well she wasn’t listening. 

“Petal” Eris looked up from the rushes towards the call of the sing-song siren-like voice. Not in the mood for confrontation with Spring, Eris crouched further into the brambles, obscuring himself from the female across the watery border. Craos pulled against Eris’s gentle hold, eager to cross the border again and succeed with another call from the voice. Eris watched the most feared hound in all the realm, leap like a bunny rabbit to your shadow, jumping to lick your face as you crouched to allow her. 

“Petal darling easy” You laughed, coating the clearing in an ease unfamiliar to Eris. through the thick river rushes Eris watched his much-revered hound roll to her back for scratches before leaping up to follow your hand as it dug through your bag. 

“Okay, sit now” you laughed, Craos eagerly obeying and happily rewarded with a small bread roll you took from your bag. 

“Easy easy” You beamed as she scoffed the lot, Eris watched the interaction with equal parts confusion and intrigue and at that very moment realised the most feared son in all the realm was acting like a bunny rabbit hiding from a fox in the rushes. That very son shot upright quickly from his burrow, causing you to leap slightly with fright as Eris pulled his shoulders back in a more becoming stance. The both of you looked across the crystal-like stream, Craos jumping at your feet eager to resume your undivided attention. 

“Come” Eris called across the rushing water, only to have Craos not respond to him with obedience. You slowly ran your hand down the hounds head, not taking your eyes from the High Lord’s son. 

“Forgive me sir but you have no business this close to the Spring border” You tried your best to project confidence, it slipping from your grasp in the face of Eris’s heated stare. 

“You’re forgive” You fought hard to not roll your eyes at the obvious display of sarcasm. Eris lightly tapped his side, Craos’ ears snapping forward to attention before bounding across the stream to her master.

“Good”

“Don’t hurt her, she’s only coming home” You walked to the bank's edge, eyes scanning Craos for any sign of distress.

“Home?-” Eris found it hard to muffle his confused chuckle “-she is my hound, property of the Autumn Court-”

“Property!?-” You found the full strength in your voice “-she is a living being and she belongs to Prythian, she is more at home in the forest and with me-”

“-And who exactly are you?” Eris was quickly losing patience as Craos seemingly shrunk in stature at her master's strengthening tone. 

“I do no such thing” The river water’s temperature began to rise as the son of the flame began to stalk closer. 

“It matters little, leave the dog and return away from my border-”

“-Orders?” Eris’s laugh filled the clearing, his heavy boots now stalking closer to the perimeter “-I will not take orders from anyone.”

“I hear you take orders from the Night Court” You laughed, it now skirting along Eris’s nerves instead of soothing them. 

“Really? I heard you even bend over when dear Rhysie asks” You laughed again, Eris now causing the very edge of the river to steam. You raised a hand before his boot fully slid into the refreshing stream, a long wall of water dividing up the middle of the lake, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Ah ah-” you shook your finger towards him “-fire and water don’t mix sir” Craos ears pinned back at your words before she looked between the two of you, unsure of her own next move. 

“Your name, tell me your name” He chewed out, examining the translucent wall in front of him for cracks. 

“YN, the last keeper of my Court’s boarders” You smiled so innocently, it almost lured Eris back into that unfamiliar softness until he heard the soft sizzle of the dying flame at his fingertips, it turning to steam against the new border. 

“The last? Perhaps you should take that as a hint and seek further employment at a market or something?”

“Is that where Rhysand bought you?” You smirked, with more playfulness than power and Eris fought away his own smile. Craos leapt forward, Eris going to catch hold of her before she could slam into the fortified border but to his surprise, she glided through it with ease unavailable to him. 

“She can stay, you may go”

“She’s my hound, however, your supply of bread rolls certainly explains her newfound…plumpness” He heard her seemingly groan back in offesen and you looked from her to him. 

“Now you’re annoying two females, you should potentially quit while you’re ahead” Eris scoffed at your teasing, the sound of the other hounds bounding behind him piquing your interest. The four looked to their eldest sibling across the water, heads cocked to the side in curiosity and some form of canine communication. The four followed suit of their leader and crossed to you and Craos with ease. 

“Look at you lovelies” You beamed, crouching to meet the hounds as they reunited with their sister. Eris watched through the glistening border wall, his feared hounds reduced to cuddly toys under your touch. It was if he wasn’t even there. You interacted with them like they were never a threat and never would be, the way that he felt you might feel about him. A foreign feeling to a male whose reputation often goes before him. 

“We-we must be going” Eris felt unsure of the ounce of guilt he felt towards separating you from his pack, some sense of something wrong flooded him when they all ran back to his feet, leaving you alone on the other side of the clearing once again. You looked down with softer eyes to the dogs at his feet, no ounce of fear from them giving you comfort. 

“Don’t make a habit of feeding them all now” Eris smiled, bringing your eyes back to him.

“She can come back when she is not working and when I say it is okay but, the bread rolls end” another groan from his eldest hound “No more bread rolls” he reiterated to her, gaining a laugh from you. 

“I thought she was stray, I didn’t know she was one of yours”

“They’re all mine, you say she belongs to Prythian but that is the very land that tried to eradicate the breed” You nodded lightly at his proud words. Silence returned to the clearing only to have Craos groan, receiving a knowing look from Eris. 

“It's okay Petal, we’ll see” You smiled at her, the other dogs listening carefully and plotting their own access to baked goods. 

“Her name is Croas, it means blazing, a more fitting name than Petal I think” he laughed heartily, the action surprising even himself a little. 

“I’m going to stick with Petal, keep to your side sir” You returned the grin before dipping you head and evaporating into the very mist you built the wall from. 

-

Eris jogged through the vast Autumn woods, desperate to crush the headaches the Night Court were giving him like the leaves under his boots. The hounds sprang into their own exploration, all staying in close proximity except Craos, who had gone to visit you. Over the past month, she began to spend more and more time with you in Spring, even missing a few nights away from home to keep you company. It didn’t bother Eris as much as he had thought, the bread rolls had stopped and Craos seemed happy, he had no reason to take away another living thing's happiness. He never wanted to do that, to begin with, it just became part of his image, his unfortunate brand he couldn’t wait to shed once he assumed power from his father. 

Wartime plans swirled across his head, scenarios of defeat and success clogging his mind until he was snapped from focus by his suddenly wet shoes. He had once again jogged to the border of Spring and Autumn. This was the third time since first meeting you that his feet had taken him where his heart wanted to go and his head didn’t consent to. Unlike those times, however, he found you sat a little way up the stream by the river's edge. Eris watched Craos sprawled along your side, your hand drawing lazy circles on her stomach as you kept your focus on the book in the other. 

“No wonder Spring is falling, when the border guards take such leisure during their worktime” Eris called across to you, throwing his weight into the trunk of a sinking willow, hands tucked deep in his pockets. You looked up from your deep study with a slight jolt, Croas leaping instantly to defend you and sinking back once seeing the perpetrator. Eris never thought one of his hounds would defend anyone without his instruction and yet here Craos was, delighted to be at your service. You looked at Eris's sinking shoe before tilting your head slightly, the wall of water reappearing with the movement. 

“Threatened sweetheart?” Eris smirked, his hands now crossing against his chest in amusement as you stood. 

“Why would I be threatened by someone who’s going to slip?” Before Eris could question further, the sinking willow slipped free a root from the crumbling soil under Eris’s weight, his full balance being thrown back to land on an equally shaky bank. Your laugh echoed off the Spring trees at the sight of the much feared Son of Autumn helplessly falling into the shallow water, it soaking him to his skin instantly. Eris felt flushed with anger, it mixing violently with embarrassment but the sight of your head tilting back with put amusement took it from him as fast as the bank took his balance and he found himself smiling. 

“I don’t know how but you did that on purpose” He stood, a quick flash of flame drying him off as Craos crossed back to his side. 

“I can’t be blamed for you being clumsy” You chuckled, tucking your book back into your bag, Eris catching a glimpse of the cover. 

“I’ve read that, I didn’t think others would have?” 

“So unique and mysterious sir, not like other High Lords” You teased, your hands finding your hips as the other hounds joined the scene, seemingly groaning to demand their dinner. 

“Well, if you would let me cross this silly little water show, I could show you” You raised an eyebrow to his tone of possible flirtation. You blinked softly, a splash of water ejecting from the wall to soak Eris again as he recoiled. 

“I can be blamed for that, little water show” You laughed loudly, Eris wiping the water from his face until another flash of heat dried it away. He thought briefly about how he’d killed others for less and yet no desire to do that to you.

“Maybe another time then YN, I just came for our girl anyways, come Craos better get you home for your dinner” He smiled at the obedient pup. 

“She had a bread roll” You winked before dissolving away in the mist. 

—-----------------

Eris dragged his hands through his hair, his rings snagging slightly on his locks. The warmth of the study fire took away the chill from the perpetual Autumn but was unable to do the same to his sentiments about the Inner Circle. They kept him away from his home for the past three weeks and so kept him away from his encounters with you which had become more frequent in the three months since your first. Still, he stayed on one side of the watery wall, happy to exchange some stories with you across its shimmering surface. Craos was only too delighted that her newfound parents had seemed to cross the bridge between indifference to let's say tolerance. 

Eris stood from his desk, taking a violet-coloured book from the vast library before stalking around the grounds of his hidden home away from home, his hounds in tow except for the usual conscientious objector. The sinking sun reflected beautifully off the crisp leaves of this secluded cottage away from both Autumn and Night Court headaches. He sank down into a well-rotting deck chair, it creaking under his weight as he cracked the spine of the forgotten book you had reminded him of two months prior. It wasn’t long before the sound of heavy panting snapped Eris from the world on the tea-coloured pages. 

“Craos?” He called to the growing darkness, standing to his feet as the hound came bounding through the trees before barking frantically, stirring the other sleeping hounds. 

“What? What’s wrong?” A flame came to Eris’s hand instantly as Craos took the cuff of his trouser leg between her teeth and pulled to which he went willingly. She released her grip before dashing back in the direction she came from, only stopping to make sure Eris was still following. The group leapt over tree roots and mossy burrows, all quick on their pursuit of Craos and her frantic nature until the familiar flush of Spring air rushed at them. Eris’s eyes shot to your weakening body across the familiar river, your groans of pain reverberating off the trees as you fought to stand. Craos met your side quickly as you procured yourself up on one elbow, the mud and moss obscuring you slightly from Eris. 

“Hi Petal, it’s okay” You tried through tears to reassure her, taking your hand from your mangled leg to rub her reassuringly, your blood tinging her fur on contact. She yelped towards you before looking back to a pale Eris, you only notice him then. You tried your best to push from the ground, the screaming sound of metal on bone attempted to deafen your cries of pain. It became clear to him then, that the giant metal teeth of a trap designed to capture naga had found a new victim to lay claim to, its unforgiving mouth crushing through one of your ankles. Eris sank a foot into the river, your shaking hand instantly raising the wall of mist to block him. 

“YN, let me cross” He pleaded, failing to hide the desperation in his voice.

“I-I can’t, he’ll know-know I failed to keep the-the border and he-he might come for you for-for crossing” Your rattling breath only pushed Eris closer to the wall, it solidly pushing him back despite your growing weakness. 

“Let me deal with that overgrown badger, let me across, I need to help you” he continued to plea, his palms flat against the wall of water as the hounds cried out their own appeals. 

“What-what if he comes for-for Craos” You cried, attempting to sit up, your pain threshold quickly being pushed to the limit. 

“Then we’ll both kill him but you need to live for that, now please” His sterness finally had you giving in, the wall dropping with an uncharacteristically loud whoosh. Eris was quick to your side, his strong hands pried open the deathly grip held on your ankle as you cried out in almost deafening pain. The pressure released on your spraying arteries caused a new flood of blood to cover you both, the loss of blood pressure stealing colour from your face as well as energy. Eris took hold of the mangled joint, his hands gently heating. 

“You’re gonna hate me for this YN”

“N-nothing new there so” You half laughed through gritted teeth, it taking some semblance of worry from Eris before he began to to heat his hands to molten levels. You screeched from the feeling of healing flame, your arms instinctively wrapping around Eris's neck to bury your scream in his shoulder. The cauterising was the easy part, the fractured joints and bones not so much. With your arms gripping around him, he sank his hands beneath your legs to pull you up from the ground, the sudden upshoot and loss of blood causing you to lose consciousness immediately. 

-

The feeling of plush fur beneath your cheek was the first thing you noticed, then the smell of crisp cedar and smoke. Your eyes flittered open to the flickering of a well-established fire, Craos lying protectively up the length of your stomach on the oak-coloured leather couch. You rubbed her gently causing her to immediately react with large licks up your cheeks, the other dogs rushing to do the same. 

“Easy everyone” Eris laughed, a large mug in his hand as you sat up from the overwhelming affection. You looked down to see your mangled ankle no longer resembling a horror scene, a pristine white bandage replacing the crimson blood and torn muscle. 

“You’ll be okay, I had a healer here, you might be a bit sore” Eris spoke softly, watching you inspect the wrap before passing you the mug. 

“Thank-thank you” You looked back to him before taking a deep drink from the ceramic. 

“You didn’t even assume I poisoned that, we’ve made a lot of progress” He laughed, sinking into the chair across from you. 

“If you were going to kill me it would have been at the sight of the first bread roll” You chuckled, Croas’s ears perking up at the mention of her favourite snack. 

“Yes well, there's still time” Craos grumbled at her master's teasing, gaining another laugh from you. You looked around the small living room that had become your infirmary, noticing the vast collection of books, wooden figurines of great creatures and general Eris-ness about the place. The inspection made Eris shuffle slightly in his seat until you caught him watching you. You smiled back, swinging your legs to stand again, Craos moved from your side to the other end of the couch. 

“Careful walking YN, I had to threaten the life of a healer to fix that ankle” He smirked but the worry was still written across his amber eyes. You took one or two shaky steps before stopping, Eris fixating his eyes on every movement as Craos seemingly decided to take things into her own hands…or paws. She suddenly jumped from the couch, knocking into the back of your knees, sending your shaking legs from under you. Eris was quicker to react than you, taking hold of your outstretched arms and saving you from imprinting your face on the coffee table. 

“Saving you for the second time” He smiled down at you, allowing you to shift your weight for him to support you, his hands finding your waist to steady you. 

“Maybe I’ll return the favour sometime and not drown you” You laughed again, your hands taking hold of his shoulders for greater balance.

“I have a weird feeling YN that you could save me in another way” He cut off any questioning you might have, your lips meeting his with a delicatness you didn’t know any male could have let alone one of the most feared.  You were suddenly pulled away from him by the feeling of paws on your good foot. You both looked down to Craos who stood knowingly between you both, looking up with adoration at her two favourites fae, making you both laugh. 

“Good girl Croas, very very good girl” Eris beamed down at her before looking back at you again, his new found salvation.

-------------------------------

What do you think friends?

[rnelodyy]

The Owl House And Restorative Justice

At the end of Season 1 of The Owl House, it is revealed that Lilith, the main overarching antagonist of that season, was the one to curse her sister Eda, one of the protagonists, to win a tournament when they were teenagers. This information causes Eda to fly into a screaming rage and attack Lilith, and understandably so.

Eda’s curse is essentially a chronic illness, one that, in Eda’s own words, has ruined her life, being the reason she’s considered a social outcast and why, before meeting King and Luz, she hadn’t gotten close to anyone in years. In season 2, it’s revealed that the curse is why she pushed away her partner Raine to the point that they broke it off with her, and that during a particularly bad flareup, she accidentally maimed her own father, leaving him half blind and with permanent nerve damage to his hands, making him unable to continue working as a Palisman carver. The curse has ruled Eda’s life for decades now, so to Eda, this is the ultimate betrayal.

In the first episode of Season 2, Lilith has defected from the Emperor’s Coven, split the curse between Eda and herself to mitigate the symptoms for her sister, and has moved in with Eda at the Owl House. While Lilith herself still feels guilty and feels she has to make it up to Eda, everyone else, Eda included, has seemingly either forgiven her or chosen to look past it. Eda even makes fun of her for feeling bad about cursing her, and Lilith’s guilt is seemingly absent for the rest of the series. 

The response to this was… Less than stellar, shall we say. A lot of people were angry, saying Lilith got away with her crimes without even a slap on the wrist, and that Eda’s forgiveness of her was far too sudden.

This isn’t the first time we’ve seen this kind of critique. Amity spent years bullying Willow after her parents forced her to break off their friendship, and when she began trying to mend that relationship, the response from fans was that Willow should have been a lot more angry at Amity, and that they went back to being besties far too soon. I’ve even seen this criticism leveled at Hunter for the things he did while working for Belos, at Vee for impersonating Luz for months to trick her mother, and at Luz for hiding the fact that she helped Philip find the Collector from her friends. And it does seem strange for the show to keep tripping on this same point again and again.

Except, it’s not really. Because I think that, when viewing this show from a different angle, those supposed flaws are actually symptoms of something very important to understand – The Owl House operates on a system of crime and punishment that is very different from our world’s.

More specifically, our world mostly utilizes retributive justice. The world of The Owl House utilizes restorative justice.

So first, what do those terms mean? Broadly, they’re two different forms of handling interpersonal disputes, or dealing with crime. 

Retributive justice is the one our current justice system uses, where the focus is primarily on punishing the perpetrator. Retributive justice can mean detention, suspension, expulsion, jail time, monetary fines, some kinds of community service, exile, or in more severe cases, corporal punishment or the death penalty. It’s the lens most people view the world through, where if someone hurts you, hurting them back is the correct response.

Restorative justice is a very different approach, where you instead focus on helping the victim recover from what happened, and rehabilitating the perpetrator to prevent this from happening again. Restorative justice can look like verbal or written apologies, monetary compensation for costs and trauma, therapy for both victim and perpetrator, education for the perpetrator, mediation between victim and perpetrator, a restraining order, etc. 

When viewed through a retributive lens, The Owl House lets its characters get away with a lot of shit. Lilith cursing Eda, Hunter rounding up Palismen knowing they’ll be killed, Amity tormenting Willow for years, it’s all stuff that, in a retributive environment, they should be punished for, and they’re just not. Eda is only genuinely angry at Lilith for two scenes, Amity and Willow fix their relationship very quickly once Amity starts making amends, and Hunter isn’t punished at all. 

However, I believe the story of The Owl House is best viewed not through a retributive lens, but through a restorative lens.

Let’s look at the Lilith-example again. Lilith’s offense was cursing Eda, which she did because she wanted to win a spot in the Emperor’s Coven. Knowing Eda was better than her, she cast a curse on her, thinking it would only last for a day. But when the time came, Eda forfeited the match, soon after which she transformed into the Owl Beast and was pelted with rocks until she ran. The curse turned out to be very permanent, and Lilith spent the next 20 years trying to fix her mistake by working for Belos to try to capture Eda, since he promised to heal her curse. 

However, when she finally succeeded, Belos went back on his promise. Instead of healing Eda, he ordered her to be publicly executed. When Lilith protested, Belos essentially told her to shut up, that it was the Titan’s will, and left her there. 

So, having realized her method of fixing her mistake has gone real bad, Lilith sneaks down to the Conformatorium to free Eda herself, but arrives too late and finds Luz instead. After a brief fight they end up teaming up, and Lilith leads Luz to the elevator, but they are captured by Belos and Lilith is thrown into the cage with Eda. There, she restores Eda’s partially petrified body, and after fleeing with her, Luz and King, uses a spell to split Eda’s curse evenly between their two bodies.

From a restorative justice point of view, Lilith has done pretty much everything she reasonably could do to fix things. She’s denounced the Emperor’s Coven, returned Owlbert to Luz, helped Luz find the elevator to the execution platform, saved Eda from petrification, apologized to Eda, and while there’s no way for her to cure Eda’s curse entirely, she took on half of the curse at great expense to her own health, in order to ease Eda’s symptoms. 

Eda isn’t angry anymore because in her eyes, Lilith has already fixed things with her. Punishing her more at this point is pointless. What more could Lilith do, really? What other lessons could she learn? The only thing that punishment would bring at this point would be more suffering. 

Let’s look at another example: Amity and Willow.

Amity’s offense was breaking off her friendship with Willow because she was a late-bloomer, bullying her for years, and allowing her friends to do so too. Willow is left with horrible self-esteem issues because of this, and combined with her failing grades, turned her into a horribly shy and withdrawn wallflower (no pun intended). After she’s moved to the plant track she starts actually getting better, but Amity and Boscha especially continue to torment her. While Amity’s bullying of Willow does peter out over time, Willow is clearly still extremely resentful of her. In an attempt to make Willow forget their friendship, Amity accidentally sets most of Willow’s memories on fire, leaving her confused, amnesiac, and unable to grasp basic concepts like that chairs are for sitting in.

Luz pushed Amity into fixing Willow’s brain by going into her mind together and piecing her memories back together. There, the Inner Willow revealed what happened to Luz and the audience.

At this point, Amity shows her that her parents were actually the ones who forced her to end the friendship because they didn’t think Willow was a suitably powerful or influential friend, threatening to make sure Willow would never get accepted into Hexside if Amity didn’t force her to leave. Amity then apologizes to Willow for going along with it, and for the bullying, and vows to make sure her friends never mess with Willow again. 

Willow accepts her apology, but also makes it clear that, while it’s a start, she’s not yet ready to accept Amity in her life again. Restorative justice has not been fully attained, because to Willow, Amity hasn’t fixed everything – Boscha and her squad are still bullying her, and still consider Amity one of them. This changes two episodes later, when Amity tells Boscha to grow the fuck up when she starts bullying Willow again, and joins her and Luz’s Grudgby team despite her personal issues to get Boscha to back off. Willow doesn’t make a grand gesture of forgiveness in this episode, but it is after this point where the two become comfortable around eachother again. 

Did Willow forgive Amity too quickly for years of trauma? Maybe. If she had chosen to continue keeping Amity at a distance I certainly wouldn’t have blamed her. But in the end, Amity fixed the mess she caused as best she could, and has proven herself to want to be a better person, to want to be Willow’s friend again. She worked hard to prove herself to be a person worth trusting, and Willow decided to give that trust a chance again.

And while they did become friends again, that friendship was clearly still affected by what happened, which led to bumps that the two of them had to work through. Like in Labyrinth Runners, where Amity’s overprotectiveness over Willow makes Willow feel like Amity thinks she’s incompetent, and still only sees her as the helpless person she used to be. 

Willow continuing to be mad at Amity and punishing her for what she did wouldn’t be an unreasonable reaction, but it wouldn’t have fixed anything. It would certainly have an impact on Amity, seeing her former best friend rejecting her attempts to make up for what she did, but the hurt on both sides would have continued festering, because deep down, Willow missed Amity too. 

In Hunter’s case, there’s the question of whether he can even be held responsible for his actions. The Palisman-kidnapping in specific was explicitly done under duress – if he failed he would face verbal and physical abuse, and be threatened with his nightmare scenario: getting thrown out of the Emperor’s Coven. 

And that’s not an empty threat either. Hunter has no magic, and Belos has drilled it into him that witches without magic have no future. Without the Emperor’s Coven, his only future prospects would be starving to death on the streets or wasting away in prison. Either way, Hunter would be alone, without family or friends, without a job or job prospects, without anyone to turn to for help. Any child would be terrified of that. Hunter wasn’t always acting on direct orders – in fact he defied direct orders to stay in his room in Eclipse Lake to go look for Titan’s Blood, and then again in Hollow Mind to arrest the rebels. But he made those choices based on the idea that Belos wouldn’t want him if he was a failure, and that he needed a chance to prove that he could still be useful.

And contrary to popular belief, Hunter does know right from wrong. He has a very strong moral compass, he’s just been forced to ignore it in favor of doing whatever the Emperor wants. To shut up that little voice telling him he’s doing the wrong thing, he uses what’s called a thought-terminating cliche, a statement that feels so fundamentally true that the argument need not continue. In Hunter’s case, that statement is “It’s for the greater good.” Sure, kidnapping his new friends and abducting Palismen to feed to the Emperor and threatening someone who’s been nothing but kind to him to take the portal key from her girlfriend and justifying terrorism makes his stomach feel like he swallowed a cactus and saying it out loud makes him sound like a horrible person – but it’s for the greater good. He’s doing it to serve Belos, and Belos knows what’s best. 

So by the time Hunter is out of active danger and able to rest and recover from what happened to him… what would further punishment accomplish? He already knows that he did fucked up shit while working for the EC, and he’s proven time and time again that while he’s not fighting for Belos’s approval, he’s actually a genuinely kind-hearted kid. Punishing him now would likely cause him to react very poorly, because he’s been at the wrong end of that stick so often that he’s developed severe PTSD because of it.

And if you think restorative justice is still in order – Hunter is currently hyperfixated on making sure Belos can never hurt anyone again, and for the long term, he has expressed that he wants to become a Palisman carver when he grows up. While it won’t bring back the Palismen that were killed, it will help the current Palisman population recover and reintroduce Palismen to witches who may have had to give up theirs. 

When viewed through this lens, the writing of The Owl House starts to make more sense. As a show, it is extremely forgiving towards its characters – they’re still held accountable for their actions, but as long as they’re willing to grow and learn and fix the damage they caused, they are very quickly forgiven. 

However, I do understand why these writing choices can be… controversial, so to say. Because it doesn’t feel very satisfying, does it? When someone hurts you on purpose, your first impulse would be to try to hurt them back, that’s just how people work. 

That’s the hardest thing to come to terms with when you become an advocate for prison abolition for example – you’re not just arguing for freeing a guy who got 5 years because a cop found weed in his pockets, you’re arguing for the release, and most importantly, the humanity of some of the most vile, disgusting people this planet has ever produced. Even now, when someone commits a truly awful crime and gets sent to prison for life, my first thought is “Good, I hope they rot in there.” But that’s not justice. That’s just revenge. And revenge is not something we as a society should want to build our justice system on.

It’s not satisfying to see Lilith go from using Luz as a human shield in her fight against Eda to sleeping on the couch in Eda’s house within 2 episodes. It’s not satisfying to see Willow let Amity back into her life when Amity has hurt her so badly before, or to see Hunter become romantically involved with Willow after he literally abducted her the first time they met. But that satisfaction isn’t really the point. Revenge is satisfying in the moment, but an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, and if someone shows a genuine willingness to change, it’s often better to give them a chance to.

However, my final point is about what happens when this approach fails. Because not everyone is willing to change. Some people, when faced with the consequences of their actions, decide to dig their heels in and refuse to admit fault, or blame the victim(s), or use those same thought-terminating cliches that Hunter used to justify their actions, “I was just following orders” being a big one.

And thus, we come to Belos.

If Belos showed a willingness to change, a genuine one, not an attempt at manipulation, should he be given the chance to? That vengeful part of me is VERY empathetically saying no. But logically, reasonably, he should be given that chance, if only because he’s a human being and no human being deserves to be mistreated. That doesn’t mean his victims are obligated to forgive him or be around him again, in fact I think that, for the sake of Hunter’s mental health, Belos should stay as far away from him as humanly possible. But he should be given the chance to start over, to truly better himself and do something good with the rest of his life.

But Belos isn’t willing to change. 

Belos is a product of a bad environment and grew up with a cult-like mentality and hatred for witches that he had to adopt for his own safety. It’s hard to break out of that mentality, but not impossible. Case in point: Caleb. The tragedy of Belos’s character to me is that he had so many chances to change, so many people to help him make that leap, but all of the people who offered him that help ended up dead by his hands because he couldn’t handle the idea that he may have been wrong.

At this point, Belos is stuck. Changing would mean not only giving up on his life’s work, but acknowledging to himself that everything he’s done, mutilating his body, killing his brother, slaughtering thousands and installing himself as God-Emperor of a population he despises more than anything in order to facilitate a genocide, was completely pointless.

He can’t admit that to himself. Especially the thing about Caleb’s death. He’s sunk-cost-fallacied himself so far into a corner that all he can really do when faced with opposing viewpoints is dig his heels in even deeper and lash out in a rage at anyone who challenges him. Even now, when his body is literally falling apart at the seams, he’s still trying to commit witch-genocide, because it’s all he has. 

Restorative justice doesn’t work in this case, because the perpetrator needs to be receptive to it. Logically you would assume the show would default to retributive justice, and characters like Willow and Camila do take a very vengeful glee in imagining themselves beating the snot out of Belos. But right now, the primary motivation of the Hexsquad and Hunter in particular when it comes to Belos is to end the threat he poses. As long as Belos is alive and free, he will continue to hurt and kill people, and if he can’t be talked down, he needs to be either contained or killed to prevent him from causing more harm.

The Owl House provides, in my opinion, a very nuanced take on restorative justice. It shows how it works in action, how different situations impact what it looks like, and what happens when it’s simply not an option. It’s not the most satisfying story to tell your audience, because when someone hurts our babies we want them to suffer, no matter how sorry they say they are. But in this case, I think that sacrificing that bit of audience comfort is worth it to tell the story like this.

[lesbiankimdahyun]

CONTRACT LOVER III: SANA

2.4K words

CW: A/B/O dynamics, G!P, filming during sex

[A!Momo + A!Sana x F!O!Reader]

As soon as the heavy door shut behind her, Momo and Sana closed the gap between you and them. 

“Finally,” Momo said, hastily moving Mina’s Nintendo Switch onto the nightstand. 

“Why’s Mina so prickly? Did you two fight or something?” Sana asked you while taking her own shirt off.

“Who cares,” Momo said. She froze immediately after she said it. “I mean, obviously I… fuck, you know what I’m trying– there’s nothing wrong right?” The Alpha paused for a moment, giving you time to speak up if needed. You shook your head a little and Momo smiled, taking her power over you right back. “That’s what I thought. She probably just needs to eat and then she’ll feel better. Now c’mere, baby,” Momo beckoned, curling her index finger. You obliged, scooting away from the headboard to meet her toward the end of the bed. 

Sana looked as if she was going to respond, but when you came closer, a whiff of your scent cleared her mind of any interpersonal concerns. The two Alphas rid themselves of the rest of their clothing while Momo studied your body intensely. 

“Stand up for me?” The oldest Alpha posed it as a question, but it was more of a command. 

You stood. You swallowed hard, unsure of where she was going with her request. 

She looked you up and down, circling you. The oldest of the three, Momo was also the most, well, Alpha. Neither Sana nor Mina, let alone any of TWICE’s other Alphas literally circled their Omegas like prey. At first you couldn’t tell what she was doing, but then she stepped closer, engrossed in delicately tracing over the deepest, darkest bruises and marks along your neck, chest, hips and ass. You could feel her breathing slow as her fingertips ghosted over the damage she’d done. 

“So pretty like this,” Momo murmured. Her scent was stronger now, too. You could smell how clearly aroused she was just from looking at your bruised body. She nudged your legs apart with her foot, watching Mina’s cum from earlier and your own wetness drip down your thighs. She hummed thoughtfully. “Looks like you need another breeding or two though, don’t you?” 

You nodded, your eyes flicking over to Sana now that she was naked, too. The younger Alpha approached you, flooding your mind momentarily with a wave of her soft but potent scent. She gently pushed you, making you sit back down on the bed as she stepped closer, leaving you face to face with her throbbing cock. She looked down at you expectantly, her soft light brown hair falling over her slender shoulders. 

Her actions made your mouth start salivating immediately. Momo scoffed as Sana pushed her hips forward ever so slightly, bringing her leaking head to your lips. “Sorry Momo,” Sana said, reaching down to grab your hand and guide it to Momo’s cock. “Me first.” 

You knew exactly what she wanted, and your jaw ached from having given so many blowjobs to the three of them day after day after day. Still, you obediently opened your mouth to let Sana in while your hand wrapped around Momo’s stiff shaft. 

For a moment there was complete silence as you began to jack off Momo while your lips and tongue got reacquainted with Sana’s cock. Momo sucked in her breath at the feeling of your soft palm. 

“Mmm,” Sana closed her eyes for a moment as you took her tip in, your tongue working to coax her to push more of her length into your mouth. She obliged, reaching down to put a hand behind your head to hold you in place. 

You let out a muffled moan while you serviced her. You did your best to fight your gag reflex while she began to fuck carelessly into your mouth. There were no warm up thrusts, no slow pace to let you adjust. Sana’s need was as strong as her scent now, almost too strong as her Alpha instincts clouded her mind.  

Sana let out a moan and Momo, it was clear, was just going to have to wait her turn. But just as soon as her dick was in your hand, it was gone as Sana pulled out of your mouth and grabbed you by your hair, wanting to rearrange you on the bed. Momo sighed frustratedly when you let go, but moved onto the bed too, knowing at least she’d get a turn with your mouth now. Once Sana had you on all fours, the younger Alpha looked down at your wet pussy hungrily and lined herself up. She let out a moan as she stuffed herself inside of you, too eager to warn you before bottoming out inside you. It didn’t matter, though. You were drenched and you could only whine as your cunt took her in. 

“So ready for me,” Sana praised, thrusting into you roughly a few times, making you yelp around Momo’s cock, which had only just entered your mouth. Your noises, if she could hear them at all, didn’t phase Sana at all. She continued to torment you with her cock, pulling out until only her tip was left inside you, and slamming her hips against you forcefully to sink her cock back inside. Her hands held on tightly to your waist until she finally settled into her natural pace. Her strokes were much faster than both Momo’s and Mina’s. They always were– Sana could never hide how desperate she was to knot an Omega when she was rutting. It was so primal, and it turned you on in a way only an Omega could be. It was animalistic, the need so clear in her eyes. Knowing you were the Omega she wanted to empty herself into made the brutally swift pace of her fucking worth it. You were the one who could give her exactly what she needed: a pretty, warm, receptive cunt to claim. 

You tried your best to give Momo good head, but Sana’s fast-paced fucking was making it hard to focus as your cunt clenched around her. Sana was insatiable, and her scent now overpowered Momo’s. Her scent did exactly what she needed it to: make your head spin and your muscles relax so she could overtake you. Momo, on the other hand, wrinkled her nose in response. Realizing you were having trouble keeping up with the blowjob you were supposed to be giving her, Momo took pity on you and pulled out of your mouth. A trail of spit connected her cock and your lips, making the older Alpha smirk. “Messy little airhead,” she purred.

With your mouth now free from Momo, Sana quickly took advantage of you and pinned you down to the bed. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” she whined, pounding you mercilessly. She was panting now, her thrusts as sloppy as they were fast. Her skin felt hot against your body and you felt it now-- her knot had started to grow at the base of her cock. “Look what you do to me…”

The side of your head was held down against the mattress by Sana’s hand, giving you a limited scope of vision, but out of the corner of your eye you saw Momo smile wickedly to herself as she got up to get her phone. She sat down on the second queen size bed across from the one Sana was fucking you on and spread her legs. Her left hand focused on slowly jacking off her stiff cock while the other held her phone so she could record you and Sana. 

Seeing Momo recording, Sana pulled your head up briefly by your hair again and turned you the other way so your face was hidden from the camera’s red recording eye. The hair on the back of your neck stood up as Sana then leaned down over you, possessively stretching your pussy out on her cock deeply while she inhaled your scent. You could feel her breath on your neck, and closed your eyes for a moment, if only to imagine what it would feel like if her teeth were to graze and sink into your skin. 

Imagining her biting and claiming you only made your cunt more receptive to her cock. Thank god for instinct, you thought, because without it, there would have been no way your throbbing pussy could have taken her rutting cock this easily. Of course it hurt after being used so many times in recent days, but your Omega instincts always won out in the end, allowing your cunt to welcome her back inside every time in hopes of being bred. 

An unexpected, particularly rough thrust from Sana made you cry out suddenly. Tears sprang to your eyes and you tried to adjust yourself under her, anticipating what was coming as you felt her swollen knot press repeatedly against your entrance. 

“Oh, are you really going to cry?” Sana said, looking down at you. “Poor thing, imagine how much more my knot’s going to hurt.” Sana smiled cruelly at you. “No really,” she continued, “I want you to imagine the pain. I know it makes you clench–” she cursed when your pussy did exactly what she expected, making her let out a shallow breath, “Like that.” Sana paused for a moment, watching her cock disappear into your soaked, willing pussy. “What, don’t you like it? Should I stop?” The Alpha stopped moving altogether, which somehow felt even worse than struggling to receive her knot. You let out a weak, frustrated wail and your hips betrayed you, grinding desperately to try to get any sort of friction from her cock. 

“That’s what I thought,” Sana said, smirking at Momo while she continued recording. “Even when it hurts…” she readjusted herself, pinning you beneath her and mounting you properly, “you still need my cock in you. You need it to hurt, don't you?” 

Sana readjusted herself slightly, using her weight to force herself somehow even deeper inside you than she had been previously. You started to let out another strangled cry but she stopped you midway through, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling so you had no choice but to look up at her. Your pussy throbbed, threatening to cum.

“No tears, okay? I know you can take it without crying.” Her voice was sweet, but her touch was anything but. Without warning, she slapped the side of your face, hard, making you gasp and comply. “Be good and let me use that pretty cunt.” Your once hooded eyes were now wide open, one side of your face stinging and red. The Alpha smiled proudly. “Smell her Momo, turned on and scared now.” 

A moment later, your face was pulled away by Momo, who grabbed you by your cheek. She focused the camera on you, studying you for a moment before adding another couple light smacks to your already-reddened cheek. 

“Touch yourself,” Momo commanded, and you did, slipping a hand between your legs shakily as Sana continued to thrust into you. You had barely had a chance to touch your dripping clit before you were stopped. “Now show me your fingers.” Momo zoomed the camera in on your glistening fingers as your hand re-emerged. 

“She likes it,” Momo said. “So wet... are you going to cum on her knot already?” 

You nodded as much as you could, your movement limited again by Sana, who had regained her tight grasp on your hair. 

“Down,” she growled, forcing your head deep into the sheets of the mattress. Your body followed and you sank further into the bed. Momo, back to stroking herself slowly while watching, let out a soft hum of appreciation for the show you and Sana were giving her. Your pussy clenched around the Alpha’s cock, ready for her now. With a hiss and final powerful thrust, Sana fit her knot inside you. You choked back an anguished scream, hands clawing at the sheets as the pain hit you. To your temporary relief, Sana fucked you a little slower now, but you knew it was only because she wanted to savor the sensation before she allowed herself to spill in you.

Reaching down and using her thumb, the Alpha teased your clit, making you whine and buck against her. She built you up in no time, and before you knew it, you were panting and cumming, your hips grinding down hard onto her cock. 

Sana, feeling your pussy come around her knot, gasped. Unable to hold back anymore, she growled and pressed into you, her regular pace back and quicker than ever. You let out a shuddered breath, feeling lightheaded from the pleasure and pain of being nearly split apart by the Alpha. 

“Ah! Good toy,” Sana panted, “Now take it all.” She gripped your hips harder and grunted, holding you still while she knotted you, plugging you up nice and full. Both of you let out moans at the overwhelming feeling. Your cunt clenched again and again around her knot, draining her of everything she had.

The Alpha, needing time before she was soft enough to pull out, made herself comfortable as she stayed mounted on top of you. She took her time, catching her breath and continuing to lightly thrust into you even though it was overstimulating for the both of you. Tired from the effort of taking her, you allowed yourself to be pressed against the bed like a ragdoll and recover for those few precious minutes. Before long, you felt Sana slide out of you. You whined at the empty feeling, making Sana and Momo chuckle beneath their breaths. 

“Pretty thing, I wish I could stay,” Sana said while reaching for her clothes. Her eyes were a little less sadistic than before, but only slightly. “But we all know I’d get hard again if I watched Momo take you next.” She changed quickly, giving Momo a knowing look as she came back over to say goodbye. Sana lifted your heavy, tired head. “C’mere,” she said, nuzzling her head against your neck briefly. “Wanna wear your scent on me while I’m out.” She inhaled deeply once more, then let you drop your head back down on the bed. She turned to go, but paused for a moment in front of the other Alpha.

You watched as Sana amusedly palmed Momo’s cock for a few moments, then took it in her hand. Momo, surprised, grunted appreciatively as she watched Sana work her shaft in her soft, manicured hand. Sana kept going, waiting until Momo closed her eyes from pleasure before letting go abruptly, leaving the other Alpha feeling damn near crazed from being worked up and teased for so long.  

“Good luck with Momo,” Sana said, winking at you. And then she was gone, leaving you alone with the other Alpha.