#Azazel is very confused by the witch

[queen-of-deans-booty]

New Life's Purpose

Pairing: No Pairing (female!reader)

Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Hey can i request a imagine with both of the Winchester with a tribrid (werewolf, witch, vampire) and half angel daughter of any archangel that is over 600 years old look like 25 and study some many careers and is super intelligent and have a lot of money,  companies, etc and when the Winchesters find out they are surprised and fascinated?

Summary: You've completed your life's mission. You've lived a luxurious lifestyle. You want something more. You want to do something more with your life. Something like a new life's purpose.

Square Filled: “I’m not saying I’m amazing, but sometimes I’m distinctly above average.” (2021) for @spnquotebingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

All these choices yet you don’t know which one you want. The manager gathered everything he had that fit the description you gave but you’re still having a hard time deciding.

“If I may, ma’am, I think this one would look fantastic on you,” he says and points to the necklace.

“It’s not for me. It’s for a friend.”

The store manager is nervous because this is such a high-end store that the only people who come in to shop must have millions to their name--which you do. More like billions, but that’s neither here nor there.

You tap your fingers on the desk rhythmically as you look at all of the options. People pass by the store on their way to other stores that they can afford but none of them interest you. Not until two men walk by that makes you smile.

“Sam! Dean!” Both men stop and look into the store in confusion. “Over here. Come here.” They look at each other in confusion. “Come here. I need you two.” They step inside, unsure of what is going on. You grab the necklace the store manager pointed to and one that you had your eyes on, and you place both necklaces on Sam and Dean’s neck. “Which one would look better?”

“What the hell is going on?” Dean asks.

“It’s hard to say, ma’am. They both compliment their skin tones.”

“I’ll get both,” you shrug and hand the necklaces back to the manager.

“Of course, ma’am,” the manager grins and takes the necklaces back. He rings up the very expensive necklaces and accepts your cash before handing you the bag with them in it. “Have a pleasant day, ma’am.”

“I intend to. Thank you, Tony.” You grab the bag and leave the store knowing the Winchesters are going to follow you. You hold the bag to Sam who takes it with a confused look. “Hold this for me, please.”

“What is going on?” Sam mutters to his brother.

“Who are you? How do you know us?” Dean asks.

As you’re walking, you look into the windows of various stores, only interested in ones that have the price tags in the thousands.

“You’re Sam and Dean Winchester, born to Mary Campbell and John Winchester. Mary died when Sam was six months old by Azazel and John died by selling his soul for Dean to the same demon. You two grew up on the road with fun Uncle Bobby who later died by a gunshot wound to the head, courtesy of that dick, Dick. I’m sure I missed an angel or two in there somewhere.”

Dean immediately stops you outside the store you’re looking for.

“Okay, lady, who the hell are you? I won’t ask again. How do you know us?”

“My name is Y/N, and I’m the daughter of the archangel, Michael. I’m a tribrid of a werewolf, vampire, and witch along with angelic grace floating around inside of me. I guess that makes me a quad-brid,” you chuckle at your joke. You walk into the store and look around for some new clothes since your old wardrobe is getting pretty boring to style. “Ooh, this would look good on you, Dean. Feel free to get whatever you want. My treat.”

“Why did you find us? What do you want?” Sam asks.

You take a nice shirt and hold it up against Sam, deciding that this would look good on him. You do the same for Dean and let the younger Winchester hold your purchases.

“I’m six hundred years old, rich, and smart. I’m kind of tired of spending all day every day in stores all around the world spending my money aimlessly. I’m not saying I’m amazing, but sometimes I’m distinctly above average.” You pick out a few shirts you like and toss them to Sam who catches them easily. “A life of luxury isn’t all that glamorous. I want to hunt and that’s why you two are here.”

“Okay, why us?” Sam asks, grunting when you toss two pants at him.

“Why not you?” you scoff. “You’re the best of the best or so I’m told. I haven’t been in touch with Heaven for quite some time now, so if things have changed and you’re not the best anymore, I will go elsewhere.”

Dean steps in your way just as you pick two pairs of pants for both brothers. He crosses his arms trying to make himself look bigger than he is.

“Sweetheart, we’re the best of the best.”

You toss the pants to Sam who scrambles to catch them.

“Thought so,” you smirk. You walk to the cash register and pay for everything that’s in Sam’s arms. You take the bags and hold them out to Sam who takes them from you. “So, can I join you?”

“No offense, Y/N, but we don’t even know you. How can we trust you to know what we do?”

“Quiz me if you want but do it while we eat. I’m starving. You two hungry?”

You leave the store and head to the food court where you order three meals and bring them to an empty table. Sam set all the bags on the empty chair just as Dean dug into his meal.

“Dude,” Sam whispers.

“What? I’m not going to turn down a free meal,” he says with his mouth full.

“Okay,” Sam nods, not yet touching his food, “how do you kill a Djinn?”

“A silver knife dipped in lamb’s blood. Or bash its brains in. Both are very effective.”

“Rugarus?”

“Fire.”

“Shapeshifter?”

“Silver.”

“Vampires?”

“Decapitation.”

“Vetala?”

“Silver to the heart and twist.”

“Okay,” Sam nods, “what about a Phoenix?”

“Iron or the Colt.”

“Dragons?”

“Dragon-killing sword.”

“How about a Jefferson Starship?”

At the name, Dean smirks.

“Silver, decapitation, or just ripping their hearts right out of their chests,” you smile. “Did I pass?”

“I’m impressed,” Sam chuckles.

“My turn,” Dean says and swallows his food. “How do you change the sparkplugs in a car?”

“Seriously?”

Both you and Sam give Dean a weird look to which he shrugs and continues eating.

“Okay, Little Miss Quad-brid. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you haven’t fought a day in your life.” You didn’t say anything so he assumes you’re not going to correct him which means he’s right. “How the hell are you supposed to fight a monster?”

You take a bite of your food and stare at Dean in the eyes. Suddenly, every single fluorescent light in the food court explodes and shatters. The only light source is the sun coming from the windows. Two of the food place signs crackle and spark before crumbling to the ground. People scream and run from the place but you continue to eat your food as if nothing happened.

“Like that.”

Sam and Dean are stunned into silence, fascinated by your powers.

“Okay, then why do you want to hunt?” Sam asks.

You sigh and push aside your plate of food.

“I was created for one thing and one thing only. To make new angels. Heaven is dying and Michael wanted new angels to repair the damage Metatron caused when the Angels fell. I did that. I made plenty of new angels and Heaven is now thriving, but I want to do more with my life now that my ‘mission’ is over. I have multiple degrees, mastered skills, and got rich in the six hundred years I’ve been here. I loved the fancy lifestyle before but now I want to try something different. I want to save people and bring meaning back to my life. So, can I hunt with you or not?”

Sam and Dean look at each other and have a silent conversation through their eyes.

“On one condition,” Dean says when they’re done.

“What?”

“Endless supply of alcohol. Like, top-shelf shit.” Sam rolls his eyes and you chuckle. “Oh, and I want spa days.” Dean snaps at his brother before he can say anything. “Shut up.”

“My wealth is yours,” you smile. “Spend it how you’d like.”

“Then you got yourself a deal,” Dean nods.

Maybe this time, you can do something good with your life. Humans are creatures that need to be protected, and this is your way to make sure that happens.

x

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[scotttrismegistus7]

GENERAL Q&A CLARIFICATION:

Both Enki and Enlil have associations with the serpent. Enki is associated with Abzu, Osiris, Path, Oanes, Lucifer and the serpent in the garden of Eden. Enlil is associated with Satan, YHWH, Typhon, and Set. In the Saturnian tradition Lucifer and Satan are two aspects of the same deity, so that is the way I am choosing to interpret Enki, Osiris, Enlil, and Set, all apparently being of Anu. They have so many different associations with so many different things that it can be very confusing. I stand with the jinn and the serpent people, Iblis, Azazel, Maymon, etc., & the Nummo, Naga, Chitauri, etc. So to clarify my position from some of the epics and illustrations in my spiritual blog posts, I am a male witch who stands with the goddess and the divine feminine. I stand with all the pagan goddesses, ancient ones like Tiamat, and old ones, but my specific areas of focus include Inana, Ishtar, Lilith, and Isis. Isis is my central focus, and of course she is associated with the serpent also, Apep and Apophis. I felt I needed to clarify this because going into the topic of the black pyramid there will be a large focus on Set, Apep, and the element of chaos in general. Chaos and darkness in general are associated with the serpent dragon goddess of the divine feminine, as well as the primordial waters of creation in the womb of creation. Darkness as feminine and light as masculine correspond to the two main dimensions and types of energy, which are the inner feminine pull force, and the outer masculine push force. The feminine is associated with the right brain big picture to detail, and the masculine is associated with the left brain detail to big picture.

The deities I use in my blog posts and epics all have various associations, and it's impossible to type somebody by deities that have many contradictory associations unless there is clarification. So that's why I felt like this was necessary. I stand with the divine feminine as a male witch, my tradition is Saturnian, and my main focus for bhakti understanding is the goddess Isis.

Also, I am an authorized ambassador for the dark gods, the jinn the spirit world in general, and any of the beings that fall into the category of the divine feminine like the reptilians, insectoids, the ant people, the grays, etc. I can act as a medium and mediary for all such beings and deities, and have been authorized by the powers that be to do so when needed within my aspects as a shaman.

Blessed be!

~I am the Heart of the Hydra, the Heart of Goddess Isis, I am AtumRa-AmenHotep, I am Aeon Horus.

I am Divine Chronos, the Yaldaboath Demiurge Metamorphosed, I am the Singularity of the Master Craft of the Black Sun.

Azazil-Iblis-Maymon, Abzu-Osiris-Typhon-Kukulkan, Nummo-Naga.

Mégisti-Generator Starphire~

#illuminati #illuminator #illuminated #lightbearer #morningstar #lucifer #Draconian #anunnaki #enki #enlil #anu #inanna #dumuzi #hermes #trismegistus #Azazel #starfamily #horus #Demiurge #Sophia #archon #AI #blacksun #saturn #iblis #jinn #Maymon #ibis #thoth #egypt #esoteric #magick #dogon #dogontribe #digitaria #nummo #nommo #Naga #tiamat #serpent #dragon #gnosis #gnostic #gnosticism #Anzu #watcher #watchtower #yaldaboath #Sirius #scientology #aleistercrowley #typhon #echidna #ancientaliens #TheGrays #grayaliens #aliens

[spookyspiritking-archive]

❣

Send me a ❣ and I’ll gauge my character’s attraction to yours at this point in time

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧ | Sexual Attraction✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧ | Romantic Attraction✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧ | Crushing✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧ | Squishing✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧| Sensual Attraction✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧ | Aesthetic Attraction

[azazelsconfessional]

((so i was gonna open up my askbox again but I got distracted doing this and watching streams i think idr what i did the past few hours, buuut there's something I need to cover first, especially since there are so many new people around! Hello! Especially since so many of you are playing OCs/MCs.

Don't worry, it's a tip to hopefully help you along! It may get a little long, especially as I try and provide examples. . .but hopefully it'll help.

I'm gonna talk a lot about OCs but this applies to canon characters too a bit. It certainly helps.

Tl;dr, you should have a character profile page.

(also remember that tumblr mobile doesn't really have direct access to Pages made with the Pages function on desktop, so you'll have to link them manually in your pinned or description or host them on another site(I used Google Docs in the apst) or in a regular post(this makes it very easy to lose as a forewarning) for maximum accessibility!)

(rules pages are also really really handy if you have alot of resteictions.)

So, in general, OCs have a bit of a lower reception rate in rp. Idk if that'll be the case here with MCs because they're, well, the main character. Housamo is also a series that lends itself well to OCs pretty well, especially non-human ones, but I figured I'd warn for that.

BUT. That doesn't mean you shouldn't play an OC! It just means there are things you need to keep in mind!

Think of all of the OCs you've seen--you all seem to be fun and wonderful people, and your characters are surely interesting. But. . .if you don't tell anybody about them, nobody will know what's going on or where to start, which makes asking questions a little hard, right? That's easier to work around with MC characters--we've played the game, we know the story, we know the characters, so we can figure out questions fairly easily based on that alone and go from there.

But with other OCs, especially those that don't represent charactera from mythology or fiction like many other characters in housamo do, there's like. Nowhere to start. We may see a face or some dialogue, but otherwise we don't have a frame of reference.

That's where a profile comes in!

Azazel-mun, I don't want to share all of the info about my character at once!

What if I don't know everything about my OC yet and want to figure it out along thw way?

The profile doesn't have to be super detailed! At most it shoule include things like the character's name and age and probably things like their location, profession, grade in school or place of work, etc., and anything you'd notice on the surface like their apperance. It's never a bad thing to include a description of their personality too, or a small section about their history/background. Little things that even you should probably know, too.

You can also section your profile off a bit into things like "surface info," "meta info," "things you could easily figure out about them," etc. That way, no one can spoil themself. Making lists like this can help you think these things through if you haven't already as well.

Let's use Azazel, a character that you probably know already, as an example here. I don't have a profile set

Name: Azazel

Species: Fallen Angel; Capra Therian - an anthropomorphic Goat (?)

Gender(pronouns): Male(he/him)

Age: difficult to calculate; several thousand years old?

Apperance age: hard to say, he's not human. Adult.

Origins: banished from his home world of Eden, has been in the human world for several thousand years

Profession: Priest of dubious denomination, most likely Catholic or Protestant; teacher at Daikanyama Academy; de facto head of the Missionaries Non-Profit charity Organization; supervisor of the Aoyama Missionaries

Role & Rule: Watcher; Revelation - allows him to see anything within the territory of the Aoyama Missionaries and anywhere the pages of his Artifact see

Apperance: Azazel is a 5'10"(180cm) tall, anthropomorphic goat of ambiguous breed, with fawn fur all over his body and lighter fur on his head and around his neck. He has brown, riged horns which curve out and back. Though his eyes are often closed, when opened they're red. He always carried around a leather bound bible with an eye on the cover, and is never seen without several chains on his person, although only the one(s) around his neck can be seen unless he's undressed.

He wears a black priest's cassock with a maroon sash and a capelet of the same color, with the same eye as on his bible on the shoulders of the cape, and brown dress shoes. The front of the robe is always open to expose his bare chest and the chains beneath.

Personality: Azazel is kind and doting, very fitting of both a teacher and priest, although his openly flirtatious, lustful, and secretive nature causes others to distrust him. He doesn't mind this at all. He has a strong adoration for humans, and values love in all of its forms more than anything. He's a bit of a passive person, often being unmotivated but working hard regardless, and seems to prefer to watch others and the world go by, although he won't decline most invitations to take part in it. He is always aware of anything that happens within the extensive territory of the Missionaries, and seems to know and see just about everything about anyone he meets, from their surface to their soul. . . .

If you know Azazel, or take note of some of the wording or question marks, you'll note I didn't explain everything(although I may have shared more than you want to.) This is just a bare bones exampe of how I do my profiles--but it can get even more bare!

I'll do two this time, a more vague version of Azazel's, and another that obscures information all together, using the same or a similar format to the above.

Name: Azazel

Species: anthropomorphic goat

Gender(pronouns): male (he/him)

Age: unquestionably an adult

Origins: Eden

Profession: Priest; teacher; head of a charity NPO; member of the Missionaries

Apperance: Horned goatman of slightly above average human height. Light brown fur, blond fur-hair, red eyes. Wears priest robes and a gold chain around his neck and chest. Carries around a bible with an eye on it?

Personality: Kind of eerie, but friendly and affectionate. A little flirtatious, especially towards humans. Seems to know everything about people for some reason?

Compare it to the one before--see how I've left even more things off or left things ambiguous while still sharing what's necessary or surface level? However, it's also not as engaging or as informative as the other one where I gave more information.

As someone who plays him, profiles like this aren't as helpful for me lol since he knows so much about everyone and everything, having a lot of details helps me play my character!

Now, as helpful as this is, this is also a character you probably know. So how about I do this with an OC? Normally I'm extremely detailed in my profiles and such, especially for OCs, sharing headcanons and ideas for relationships between characters. But, again, I'll try and show how you can show some info while leaving some up to people to ask about to later be filled in.

Name: Kezia

Faceclaim/Art Source: [this is where you would put where you get the art for any icons you use--if you draw it yourself, say so; if you use official art from a series, credit the name of the character and the series; if you use picrews, link the specific picrews. DO NOT USE ART YOU HAVE NOT BEEN PERMITTED TO USE. DO NOT STEAL ART. IF YOU CAN'T FIND THE CREDIT, ASK SOMEONE TO HELP YOU, DO NOT JUST SAY THAT IT ISN'T YOURS. DO NOT USE ART YOU HAVE NOT BEEN GIVEN PERMISSION TO USE OR THAT ISN'T FROM A SERIES OF SOME SORT.]

Species: Human

Gender(pronouns): Female (she/her)

Age: mid 20's~early 30's?

Apperance age: older than she looks?

Origins: Tokyo?

Profession: Professor; Witch

Apperance: A fidgety woman who looks older than she is. She looks anxious and confused as often as she looks curious and confident. Wavy light brown hair. Often carries around schoolbooks and is never alone, always with a Rattus Therian and often with a Nyarlathotep.

Personality: seemingly anxious, but curious and exploratative nonetheless. On the awkward side, but can still keep up with the Nyarls that accompany her. Gets into trouble when she gets ahead of herself in exploring and learning about the arcane, but her Rule allows her to disappear easily.

History: Has always been curious about magic and attempted to run through a Gate when they began to open up. Performed a summon and brought a certain transients to Tokyo and recieved her familiar and the magic to use her Rule as a result. Currently teaches at a college. She stumbled into a certain someone while attempting to explore time, and became a fan ever since.

That tells you a fair amount, doesn't it? Even for someone you don't know? It may even raise some questions that you could ask. At the same time, it doesn't tell you that much, and that can be as much of a hindrance for coming up with questions as saying too much can. It's really up to you what's too much and too little. Here's a more detailed version! Some things have been left vague or confusing in such a way that they could be filled in after being revealed through asks and play. That way, people are encouraged to/given ideas of what to ask--and you can still share things in the long run.

Name: Kezia

Faceclaim/Art Source: [N/A]

Species: Human

Gender(pronouns): Female (she/her)

Age: mid 20's~early 30's?

Apperance age: somewhere in her 30's, maybe even a little older

Origins: Tokyo, with some sort of connection to at least one other world

Profession: Professor of [?] at [?] Academy; Witch

Role & Rule: [?] & [?]

Artifact, Summon, Familiar?: Always accompanied by at least one Nyarlathotep and some sort of man-rat? She also carries around a book that's labeled as a Grimoire, but it's rare for someone to be both a summon-user and an Artifact-user. . . .

Apperance: A fidgety older woman wearing a labcoat and a witch's hat. She looks quite stressed and has trouble sitting still. Her ashy brown hair is thin and a little wavy, with some strands of gray. Although she often squints, she doesn't wear glasses. She carries around a lot of books relating to maths and sciences and one labeled 'Grimoire' decorated with arcane symbols from Gehenna and Old Ones. She's always accompanied by at least one Nyarlathotep and a very short, bearded man who can best be described as a brown rat therian with a human-like face. Sometimes there's a normal rat on her person or in her pockets.

Personality: Kezia is a fidgety and anxious magic practitioner. She's very curious about other worlds and has been since the Gates appeared in this Tokyo since she was a child, however she has been pursuing magic before then. She often appears somewhat confused about or fascenated by even her usual surroundings, but, at other times moves through the world with confidence even in unfamiliar territory. She also likes rats and other rodents, and as such will often avoid felines and birds of prey. She has a tendency to disappear, seeming to walk through walls despite assuredly being alive.

She's a little bit awkward with people, but somehow keeps up with Nyarlathoteps nonetheless. She's a good teacher, once she figures out how to explain things in ways others can understand easily, but can be a bit difficult to follow and flighty up until then. Aware of this, she's rather patient, if a little down on herself at times. However, she most often simply has her mind elsewhere. Despite this and the company she keeps, she's relatively sane. . .most of the time.

She shares a name with a witch from the world of Old Ones who made a pact with Nyarlathotep, believing him to be the Devil. . .and the ratman always at her side uses the same name as that witch's familiar as well. It's. . .probably just a coincidence. . .who would rightfully make a pact with Nyarlathotep?

History: Kezia is an adult human from this Tokyo before the apperance of the Gates and construction of the Walls. She's explored various witchcraft pursuits since she was a child, with what was originally a mere imaginative curiosity and fascination. After the arrival of the Gates when she was still young, she snuck over the fences built around one and attempted to go inside the massive pillar of light, which she attributes to the reason she often seems to struggle with her vision. Several years later, she performed a successful summon and she recieved her familiar, Brown Jenkin, transformed into a somewhat therian form from one of her pet rats, and was given some powers from Nyarlathotep. She has no discernable control over any of the chaotic creatures, however they seem to spend time around her regardless.

At present she's a professor of a subject that interests her at a certain college. She's had other dangerous run-ins due to her excitement over the arcane and "darker" arts, but doesn't seem to show any signs of stopping. However, after an incident in an attempt to explore time itself, she encountered a certain guardian of time and feels reluctant for once to explore it further. . .although she's become quite a big fan of his.

. . .i ran out of steam amd kinda lost track of where i was going. idk if that helped at all really. But maybe it did! I hope it did. You don't need to use any of those things exactly by any means, but that's the kind of thing you usually see in profile pages. Basics like someone's name and birthday and age and apperance and a little about their personality, maybe some history. Oftentimes things like powers and weapons and the like. Interests, hobbies, ways they could be intereacted with, etc. Just stuff that'd help you know the character.

I write everything in paragraph form, but everyone is more than welcome to use a more script format. I love making profiles, myself--it really helps to think about the character and details about them. Normally I make really, really detailed profiles, but maybe I'll try and be more simple about it this time around. depends on how i'm feeling.

I know this seems weirdly hypocritical given I don't have one but when I first made this blog there were like four of us including myself. I didn't see the need for a rules or profile page because I didn't anticipate that there'd be so many of us or, like, people from other fandoms or who aren't familiar with certain characters. I'll rectify that soon hopefully. But I figured I'd pass along this idea/knowledge to others.

. . .I'm gonna go reopen my askbox now. Feel free to send asks again, ask about this, etc! You can send me an IM too if you want. I'll properly close up the guest event tomorrow. I'm real tired rn lol so idk how much i'll get done, but i usually do things super late at night my time, so i have some time to pull my shit together haha))

[lailoken]

I’m a little confused on the concept of Cain. I have found amidst my readings that he is the father of witches. But also among other readings that the devil is the witch father. For a time I wondered if they were synonymous. But in Gemma Gary’s “A Devil’s Dozen” they are two distinct entities. I wondered what your thoughts on this matter are and if you might recommend some further resources. Thank you so much for your time

Firstly, I think I should mention here that Cain actually played very little part in my upbringing and or personal traditions. Nonetheless, I have read a fair amount on the matter and will do my best to elucidate the subject.

In regard to your question specifically, the best answer I can probably give is that there are various explanations and a fair amount of overlap. However, based on the what you said, one explanation to help distinguish between the roles you’re talking about is the language of “Father of Witches” vs “The Witch Father.” So, numerous traditions believe Cain to be the father of witches, in that he is literally named by them as the forefather of all witches. As for the reasons behind him being identified as the forefather of witchblood, there are once again various explanations, though one of the more common ones discussed is the mythical interpretation of Cain as being the result of an affair (or sexual assault depending on the sources) of Eve and an angel. The angel is frequently identified with Samael—known textually both as an angel of death, and a name for the Devil before he fell—but regardless of who the angel was, these particular narratives explain that Cain was effectively the first of the Nephilim, and passed down secrets of magic known to him through his heritage. This notion is often further extrapolated into the idea of “The Seed of Adam” (the descendants of purely human blood through the line of Seth) and the “Serpent Seed” (the descendants of witch blood through the line of Cain.) The concept of Cain as the “Father of Witches” can then be contrasted with idea of the “Witch Father” usually identified with The Devil—a shadowy figure, spectral visitor, or deific apparition that initiates a witch into their power through oneiric, ceremonial, and/or sexual rites. This is one way I can attempt to answer your question about the overlap and simultaneous discernment that surrounds the figures of Cain and Lucifer in traditional witchcraft.

That being said, the concept of the Witching God has had numerous iterations throughout history, and will probably continue to evolve with time. So then, another answer I can give you in regard to the seeming duality of and connection between the two figures is that, as I mentioned before, there’s a certain degree of intersectionality when it comes to their places in the scheme of the Craft. Even the specific concept of the Witchfather has been interpreted through various different lenses and traditions beyond the roles of Cain and Satan. I have, in fact, seen reference to the Witching God as Witchfather under the names of Pan, Dionysus, Samael, Prometheus, The Man in Black, Tubal-Cain, The Lord of Light, Herne, The Faerie King, Odin, Azazel, and Bucca (the last six of those being referenced explicitly in ‘The Devil’s Dozen,’ since you mentioned that work by Gemma Gary.) Needless to say, it’s a topic fraught with varying opinions and abstractions, but I personally love the idea of the freedom for diverse exploration that such a richly attested concept allows for.

I hope that helps some!

[red-hood-vigilante]

hbo spn storylines, drabbles, ideas, thoughts, wishlist, whatever you may call it. it’s messy, nothing makes sense and pretty sure a lot of these contradict each other

more of sam at stanford with jessica/flashbacks. jessica potentially lives but is revealed to be a demon (but she developed actual feelings for sam and really did come to care for him because a demon falling in love with a human would be SO interesting) OR she lives but her memory gets wiped like dean did to lisa OR she dies like she did but she is a ghost that haunts sam (he welcomes it but eventually he lets her go -> character arc). he still dreams about her though and he has her keepsakes with him wherever he goes, her rings, her favourite book, anything that was left of her from the fire

you have to be extremely careful when making deals with demons because they are cunning and evil creatures. they will follow the rules of the deal but will find loopholes to put some sadistic twist on the terms. you want money? of course, too bad you’ll be arrested for fraud before you can use any of it and spend the next ten years in jail before i drag you to hell. you want a perfect husband? sure he’ll love you. in fact, he’ll love you so much he’ll keep you locked up in the basement to keep you safe etc etc. saving a person often becomes the person that causes or leads to your death.

the creation of jack: after s5, when lucifer is trapped in the cage again lucifer fuses his own soul with a human soul to create jack, who escapes to earth to find sam and castiel. i have a longer post about this saved in my drafts

lucifer is trapped for good in the cage after s5 but if he was to return again, dean would kill him while sam would kill michael - this would be nice parallels and a sort of fulfillment of the “one brother must kill the other” prophecy because one brother DO kill another brother, just not their own

more azazel and how he came to the plan of how to free lucifer; opening a hell gate earlier, more experimentations with the demon blood etc

mary was infected with the blood when she was a baby, sam is the first and only second generation special child (longer post about that here)

personally, i want to see more and know more about john and mary’s relationship. when mary died, john and mary had fulfilled their destiny (having sam and dean) so does that mean that his love and dedication to mary post her death was falsely fabricated by the angels to ensure sam and dean would grow up in ideal conditions to become hunters? or maybe, after mary’s death, john wakes up from the spell with two kids he doesn’t recognize and a wife he thinks he loved, but the memories of the past years of his life are like a fever dream; he never wanted to live in a town like this nor was he interested in having kids? but here the house is, and here are his kids, but now he’s alone and empty and with no answers. (idk i just find john and mary and their relationship very fascinating) if the latter, if john and mary see each other again it’s like the spell activates again and they become blindly in love with each other, but once gone, they return to their confused and hazey state of mind, like just woken up from a coma

i do like mary coming back but i love how in s5 when she wasn’t found in heaven it was hinted that she was just discarded because she had fulfilled her “purpose” and i think this adds to the whole notion of how heaven and angels can be really cruel AND how mary is this mythical, religious figure to both sam and dean and we only get to know her through their lenses, like religion and faith

ruby is present for a longer amount of time to make the reveal even more shocking. at one point or another, dean does actually trust her and they all work together on cases for a while. ruby’s backstory as a witch is more explored. i like her death in s4 because she’s in this total state of euphoria and has achieved a goal only she was entrusted with, and she is so convinced sam will understand, until sam holds her down while dean carves her heart out. so we either keep that or she serves lucifer for a while (until he kills her which she is happy about because of her blind loyalty to him, could again mirror dean and john/castiel and heaven) or she serves lucifer and like crowley she realizes lucifer will kill demons after humans (redemption arc, but i don’t really like that, let her be evil!!)

dean and sam helps bela out of her deal and she becomes their go-to person when they need a magic item or book. she doesn’t like it but she owes them. regularly hooks up with jo.

angels are really hollow soldiers - they only follow orders and don’t understand the concept free will or choice or individuality at all. they are extremely righteous and strike without warning often on a whim, often very bloody (explosions a la castiel in swan song). if something fall into what they consider justice they will kill it. no concept of love, attraction or gender. real form can’t be perceived by humans unless they want them to, which leads to eyes melting (pamela) or breaking a person’s mind (in 5.16 zachariah actually says that sam and dean sees him in his vessel bc they’re ‘limited’. so.)

castiel, anna, maybe uriel and some others are exceptions to this, but only becomes so after longer exposure to human’s world. even then, they don’t change their violent whims, just the reasoning and where their loyalty lies

hbo spn is s1-5 stretched out for 8-10 seasons with the aesthetics of s1-2. i’m cutting out demon dean, purgatory, the mark of cain, the men of letters, the alphas, leviathatan, god being the real villain all along and the other worlds because it was just too much and far remived from the roadtrip aesthetic. keeping kevin, charlie (she is introduced via ash bc they’re hacker friends), the trials, rowena, uuuh the angels falling is such an interesting concept but idk if it would fit. maybe metatron? but his motivations are different. soullessness + the concept of souls might be kept if it’s explained better. i’m torn on whether or not to include the campbells

hell, heaven and purgatory are explained but only seen in glimpses, keep these ideas ambiguous and up to interpretation outside of what we hear. remember the line ‘hell is...well, it’s like hell. even for demons’? leave it at that. the exception is 5.16 bc that episode fucks so hard

if we end on swan song and let the show be the tragedy it is, i want to keep the ambiguous ending. is that sam or lucifer? if it’s sam, will he contact dean or walk away? we will never know! there is also no ‘the world is ending’ more than once, it really lost its impact after the second or third time.

idk how i feel about the men of letters - it is logical that there would be organized hunting and an established network and system on how to do things, but for the sake of keeping it hbo-style and grounded, there are no networks beyond the roadhouse and singer’s salvage yard.

i want sam and dean not have a permanent home except the impala, motels and impala ONLY. the bunker had potential but it was just for the sake of convenience it was there with all the lore and answers they needed when it was necessary. maybe eventually they do stop travelling so much when it becomes more about the Big Stuff instead of the episodic cases that requires driving all the time but it will be like an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere. i want sam and dean to never have a physical house as a home but they scrape together whatever they have make something similar to a show

as the show progresses, sam and dean become pretty hated by other hunters because they’ve started apocalypse and have an increasingly shitty reputation. and john was an infamous good hunter but also a dick. everybody knows that people who work with the winchesters often end up dead, that one brother will sacrifice anything and anyone to save the other and that they frequently work alongside demons. even the ones they DO work with (jo, ellen, bobby, rufus, bela) are hesitant to be involved with them

sam’s powers are strong but after killing lilith and the truth revealed to him, he represses the powers in shock and fear of how blinded he was by them and the rush of power they gave him. a little more about how sam fears what the lust for power and strength did to him. he continues to repress his powers, often to a dangerous point where he will be on death’s door as a result of not using them. when meeting jack and mentoring him in using his powers, jack asks him about sam’s powers after sensing them. sam eventually decides to lead by example and embraces his powers again, but remains extremely careful about using them (this also fulfills dean’s arc of having to let go of the holy-innocent-pure-ideal-not a person but an idealized version of sam-little brother sam he has put on a pedestal for so long)

bobby is viewed as a father figure by sam and dean but bobby makes it clear he doesn’t want that burden or relationship in his life after his wife died. he makes this clear to them too, but sam and dean have fucked up perceptions of parental figures so they don’t think bobby means it (they just latch on to whatever parental figures they can find)

we see more of sam’s relationship with the side characters; sam and jo hunt together on occasion, he hangs out with ash and talks hacking when visiting the roadhouse. he and ellen loves playing poker together. if anything, dean is the one who’s isolated - he only ever really cared about mary, john, sam and cassie, and never really had any friends. sam is way more well adjusted and sociable after spending time at stanford where he’s had conversations that didn’t only revolve around dead bodies and lore. 

this could also feed into dean’s extreme abandonment issues and isolation he feels and how this would affect his psyche

sam and dean are both unknowingly prepared to become the perfect vessels; sam loses his humanity by becoming more and more like lucifer (defying his father and his will) while dean becomes prepared by doing what michael did; casting his brother away in his time of need (blindly following his father and his will). very much like in s4 but even more intense and brutal (i love angst :))

we see different hybrids; demon/human (antichrist), human/(arch)angel (nephilim) and demon/angel (???), but none of them are all powerful bc narratively that’s really boring. they’re strong but have very specific powers that affects them and/or their surroundings in catastrophic ways (but no other worlds bs, we stick to the road trip aesthetic, keep it grounded). i want the only all powerful character to be god but he doesn’t show up at all, he’s the ultimate absent father. is it chuck? we never find out!

powers would for example include giving people diseases, force anyone close to them to tell the truth (not consciously, it’s just the air around them), read minds, create storms, light things on fire when they’re angry, make people hallucinate etc. like fucked up shit but not things that are too grande because again - that’s really boring

abbadon, the princes of hell and the four horsemen are more fleshed out villains instead of the one season reign the each had. 

being a prince of hell is a title that is inherited - after azazel dies, sam gets the title because he is the one with azazel’s blood in him OR meg does, but idk if that would be as interesting (if she actually was his daughter)

it remains a horror show throughout, lots of gore and blood

the moral code and ethics of the brothers are the opposite of the beginning; dean thinks in black and white, sam sees shades of grey and individuals instead of what they are. however, as the show progresses, their train of thought becomes opposites; dean becomes more open to how people are true evil and how monsters are often victims of their circumstance while sam becomes harsher and less forgiving after ruby’s betrayal along with finding out the truth of his existence and how there’s been demons around his entire life. eventually they’re on the same page and they see the circumstances. 

on the other hand; i also really fuck with the idea of dean maintaining his black and white morals on that all monsters=inherently evil, humans=inherently pure and good, but he is the only human on team free will. sam is half demon, castiel is an angel, jack is a nephilim, rowena is a witch, garth is a werewolf, mary is a zombie etc

demons become demons in hell by agreeing to become the torturer and thus giving up their humanity to be free of pain, does that mean they could become humans again by regaining some humanity? by doing good deeds? (potentially this is confirmed with jessica and how she came to love sam; genuine love and care for a human could reverse the demon process?) this also means dean was a demon in hell but was purified/turned back again when castiel raised him. this also plays into dean becoming like michael; in trying to absolve himself from what he did in hell he becomes ruthless, unforgiving and righteous to evil, much like the angels, regardless of his personal connection to a person and what he would consider “evil”

dean and pacifisim: after dean is cured from being a demon/the mark of cain/is made aware of his blind righteousness that he used as an excuse to kill, he becomes firmly determined to reign in his anger and violent tendencies by becoming a pacifist (like sam in s11) as a way to redeem all the blood he’s spilled. of course in his profession and true dean fashion he won’t be able to do it 100% so he decides to only act in self defense, and he only goes batshit violent on the offense when it’s about protecting sam

OR. dean’s self righteousness becomes his own downfall; the belief that all evil must be eradicated, refusal to see the circumstances and the shades of grey is what pushes him to lose his humanity and become a demon and therefore, in a potential ending the ruler of hell, because i think it would such an interesting journey from a to b, that dean starts out human, revels in his holiness, executes and kills in the name of his own holiness in the belief that he’s becoming the ultimate angel, the ultimate hero when it’s doing the opposite. if this happened then sam would take the opposite route; starts as a human, becomes more and more demonic, stops himself and returns to his hopeful and optimistic self, has faith and humility and that is what makes him ascend from abomination to purified and holy (trials). 

this could be a perfect 10 season structure as well: s1-5 are when sam and dean start off humans; dean becomes holy and as close to an angel a human can be, while sam drinks the demon blood and almost becomes one to gain the freedom and power he wants, but begins to turn it around to send lucifer back to hell. s6-10 is when dean becomes the unholy and sam becomes the holy even though neither realize because now there’s no grand master plan - this is who they are, who they choose themselves. don’t know how this ould end though; either as normal humans again (but there wouldn’t really be a ”normal” after everything) or they really go off the rails with sam like ruling heaven (not as god though, just as a good and just man) and dean ruling hell. castiel is human and stays on earth with jack.

the gothic americana aesthetic is kept throughout the entire show and is only shot on film

after s5 castiel returns to heaven to help restore order, and he takes charge for a little while, but eventually returns to earth after trying to introduce democracy to angels who didn’t get it. in his place, anna takes over and she rules heaven well (after trying to kill mary when going back in time she isn’t killed by michael, but narrowly escapes and remains in hiding to heal until castiel reaches out and finds her)

when finding out they are The Vessels and will be brought back regardless of what they try, sam and dean explore what this means more. dean throws himself into dangers and to protect others. he is burned, blown up, stabbed, electrocuted, beheaded and eaten, but wakes up the next morning in his bed without a scratch, without any pain and memories of his deaths. he revels in this untouchability. sam kills himself over and over only to be resurrected again and again by lucifer. he remembers the pain and blood.

that being said, while dean is like angel royalty, sam is demon royalty. the demons don’t go after him, they don’t hurt him. some even offer up themselves to be drained of blood, even after lilith’s death. it makes it really difficult to stay clean but he pulls through with dean and castiel actually supporting him. to help sam get through his addiction, dean stops drinking alcohol and they go through their withdrawal together

the angels almost worship dean as the michael sword and have an open disgust towards sam for being lucifer’s vessel - they always answer dean’s prayers and calls for help, they follow his orders if need be and don’t hesitate to heal him if he needs it. sam could pray until his vocal chords bleed or call out for help while holding his guts in his hands; none of the angels would come to his aid. the only one who answers sam’s prayers is lucifer as a voice in sam’s head or a hallucination. sam could call demons to help him out but he refuses

sam isn’t the first hunter to drink demon blood, to try to enhance his own abilities using the supernatural as a means to get there - there are hunters who have altered themselves with parts from werewolves and vampires to become better hunters, like the styne family (the guys from s10), blurring the lines again of what’s good and human vs what is evil and inhumane

if angels can’t find a vessel to volunteer, they will force them to say yes - the how is not important, only that the ‘yes’ is said, whether its meant or not, any verbal yes will do. the angels never sleep and they never eat, which is disturbing to sam and dean who are exhausted all the time and eat scraps whenever they can

castiel, like all other angels, is taught to despise and not care about sam winchester at all, but the more castiel gets to know sam, he becomes fascinated with him, how lucifer’s ultimate vessel, starter of the apocalypse and destroyer of god’s creation can be so kind and gentle, so full of faith, acceptance, optimism and hope. in dean castiel sees a good man, yes, but also a man who’s bloodthirsty, rages, revels in war, resorts all problems with violence, loves conditionally and expects unquestioned loyalty. sam too, has a darkness and bloodthirst in him, but it only comes out in glimpses. castiel thinks it’s funny, how sam turns out to be the opposite of lucifer while dean is so alike michael

[sybilslibrary]

The Rose Cross of Azazel

“According to an esoteric reading of the Tarot, a Red Rose represents Venus (Azazel’s human wife), while a Red Cross represents the angel Azazel. The combined Rose-Cross in one respect represents the sexual union of Azazel and his human wife. 

The word ‘Rosicrucian’ is German for ‘Rose Cross,’ a term synonymous with Red Cross. In addition to this, the word ‘rose’ is an anagram for Eros, the name of the Greek god of Love, who was the first-born son of the angel Azazel and of his human wife. 

The 18th Degree in Freemasonry is commonly known as the Rose-Croix (Rose Cross), a fact showing the relation to and establishing a link between these two seemingly diverse organizations. In fact, the ascension of Freemasonry (not to be confused with the more archaic Masonry) as we know it today correspondingly relates to the decline of the Rosicrucian order in Europe, most markedly in Germany, the birthplace of Rosicrucianism (Dr Sigismund Bacstrom, an important Rosicrucian scholar of the alchemical sciences, wrote in Bacstrom’s Rosicrucian Society (circa late 18th to early 19th Centuries A.D.) of “the August most ancient and most learned (Rosicrucian) Society, the Investigators of Divine, Spiritual and Natural Truth (which Society, more than two centuries and a half ago (during the 15th Century), did separate themselves from the Freemasons...).” These movements being inter-related and dynamic by their their very natures, Freemasonry later re-absorbed many Rosicrucians back within its ranks (See pp.55-56 Proofs of a Conspiracy: Chapter I by John Robinson, 1798 A.D.). There are many Rosicrucian Societies yet in existence today, most notably AMORC. In addition, and of a most interesting note, the Order of Maat Supreme Grand Lodge owns a web site called Links Central of Maat (M.A.A.T. = Master of the Temple A.’A.’ [A.’A.’ = Aleister Crowley’s Argenteum Astrum/Silver Star]. See p. 241 Nightside of Eden by Kenneth Grant, 1977 A.D.), by their own profession “a web ring for Rosicrucians,” which employs a rose-cross ankh symbol (a rosetau). This is derived from the name of the Egyptian god Seker, who represented the angel Azazel, who was called ‘He of the rosetau,’ which is to say, he of the rose (red) cross. In Scene 2 of the 3rd Tableau of the Initiation of Plato, it is revealed that Azazel’s symbol, “the red cross,” was “traced upon the banner of Egypt,” on what amounted to being the national flag of Egypt. And according to Flying Roll No. 10 (in Roman numerals, 10 = X, named in honor of Azazel) of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, ‘X’ (a cross variant) is the occult sign of Osiris risen (Osiris represented Azazel’s cherub Behemoth. It is for this reason A. E. Waite, a member of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, lists the Wheel of Fortune, representative of Azazel’s cherub, as the 10th [Roman numeral X] Major Arcana of the Tarot. There exist those who hold the crossed- arm symbolism represents ‘Osiris slain’). It must also be noted The Church of Scientology employs a similar logo, called the Cross Saltire.** Compare the Cross Saltire to Aleister Crowley’s OTO Rose Cross Lamen (a lamen is a magical charm-like pendent worn around the neck by the leader of a witch’s coven). This signifies Azazel’s (represented by the ‘X’) future appearance as the false Christ (represented by the cross). When the symbol for Azazel (x) is superimposed upon the cross (+), it forms what is known as an eight- point compass rose. For this reason a classical wooden ship’s wheel, which resembles an eight point compass rose, is at times used as a symbol of Azazel (as are wheels of similar composition). A ship’s anchor (often found wound round with a chain) is also used as a symbol for the union of Azazel and his human wife, as it represents the union of the tau cross, representative of Azazel, with the crescent moon, the crescent moon being a symbol of Azazel’s human wife). (**Author’s Note: The Process Church of the Final Judgment founded by two ex-Scientologists employed a decidedly related symbol depicting a serpent upon a cross [in the place of Christ crucified], what one might venture to identify as being a Chritianized- version of the palladium (the palladium is related to the alchemical device known as the ‘Crucified Serpent.’ Most of the writings of the Rosicrucians are alchemical in nature). They even had rings made with this cross depicted in red on a white background [within the ‘disk’] the sigil of Azazel [See below]):

In Egyptian hieroglyphics the god Ptah (a god who represented Azazel) is always associated with an ‘x’ within a circle, also known as the quartered circle (for this reason an ox has become an esoteric symbol of Azazel (Oxford University derives its name from it). A male ox is called a bull, a common angel symbol (by extension, Azazel’s human wife may be symbolized as a cow. The Egyptian cow goddess represents Azazel’s human wife). Compare the ‘x’ within a circle symbol of Ptah to the Cross of Wodan, also a cross within a circle. The Germanic god Wodan is yet another god who represented the angel Azazel/Behemoth. The Celtic cross of the Druids also incorporates the ‘cross within a circle’ motif. In some circles the ‘cross within a circle’ motif is known as the Mark of Cain (this is due to the fact that in the Phoenician alphabet the letter ‘T’ is rendered as an ‘X’ and is pronounced ‘tau,’ meaning ‘mark’). Cain of course was the son of Azazel by Eve. The quartered circle was the badge (talisman/magic charm) of the Grand Master of the Knights Templars. No doubt it was worn in part to protect the user in battle as God was said in Genesis 4:15 to have placed such a “mark” upon Cain to keep him from being slain). The so-called Freemasonic Scottish Rite 18th Degree Rose Croix quartered circle (also a symbol of the Gnostics/Gnosticism) is a variant of the ‘cross within a circle’ motif. The NATO military alliance also employees a variant of the ‘quartered circle’ logo which is representive of the god of war Azazel. As we learn from the Wicca witch priestess Doreen Valiente in Witchcraft for Tomorrow pp.67-68, the cross within the circle motif, the sign of Azazel, was one of the designs of the ‘magic circles’ of the witches; the construction of such a ‘magic circle’ was standard practice when witch’s invoked their Horned God, who was Azazel! In fact, the device known as ‘the witches’ mark’ which was employed by the witches (often signed during witches’ initiation ceremonies) is “an X-shaped cross” (Ibid p.179), the sign of Azazel.

The red cross (in appearance a red X), was emblazoned upon Azazel’s cherub Behemoth: “Lamia is the ‘snake’ among the Ophidian; Lama is the hand: lamh, hand (for this reason a hand may also be used to represent Azazel; two examples are the god Sabazios, who represents Azazel, and whose symbol is a hand and also the witch’s Hand of Glory which likewise represented Azazel), is a divine name in the Scythian tongue. It also means the number 10, and the Roman numeral X, which is a cross...which, according to Eastern allegory, is placed...upon the Rebellious Spirits (read: a red X was emblazoned upon the cherub of the angels) in their ‘abyss’ or ‘prison’ (within the earth).” - The Rosicrucians: Their Rites and Mysteries by SRIA member Hargrave Jennings, 1870 A.D.. The SRIA is an English Rosicrucian Society. SRIA members, it must be remembered, gave birth to the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, oweing its “mysteries” in part to this book by Jennings). The Knights Templar god Baphomet also represented Azazel. As we learn from The Rosicrucians: Their Rites and Mysteries (Hargrave Jennings) p.215, the Coptic root –met encountered in the word Bapho-met means “ten.” The Roman numeral signifying 10, rendered as an X, a cross variation, is the sign of Azazel (Ba [ab/father]-pho [oph/serpent] – met [X]). In her book Witchcraft for Tomorrow p.117 the Wicca witch- priestess Doreen Valiente reveals: “Ogham was a sacred Druid alphabet and would certainly have contained magic secrets...” I would say one of the biggest secrets it reveals is the mystery surrounding the identity of the mysterious Theosophical Society deva known as Master KH with whom many high-ranking members of this society claimed to be in contact. In the sacred Ogham alphabet of the magic practicing Druids, KH was rendered as an X. Master KH, which is the Druid way to say, Master X, was the Hidden Master Azazel himself! This is also the idea behind the word ‘Ur-Khaos,’ the god of the underworld: KH (X) + A (horned ox head sign of the horned god) + O (the disk, a cherub) + S (the serpent), the serpent horned god of the X-marked disk of the Chaldean city of Ur (Ur- Khaos was later translated as Orcus, the Gaelic Druidic god of the underworld/abyss). According to the Ritual Magic of the Golden Dawn (p.208, King 1987), the rising of Adonai, of Mithra the Lord of Wide Pastures was by the ancient mysteries symbolized under the form of a rose (also known as the ‘Rose of Dawn’). In a like way, the gods Adonai and Mithra represented Azazel/Behemoth (“Adonai has...come to mean, through the Rosicrucian tradition, the Holy Guardian Angel [with whom, it must be noted, magicians sought to communicate].” - Eight Lectures on Yoga by Aleister Crowley, 1939 A.D.). Azazel will in the future arise within his cherub being loosed from his earthly imprisonment. In respect to the angel Azazel, the rose cross also symbolizes the future rising of Azazel/Behemoth, Azazel being accepted as the coming Messiah. So the rose is also used as a symbol of Azazel. The red cross as a symbol of Azazel’s cherub Behemoth also hearkens back to the Egyptian mysteries of Osiris. The god Osiris represented Azazel’s cherub Behemoth, and by extension, Azazel. In the Egyptian Hymn to Osiris, the “disk” of Osiris (Osiris = Behemoth) is identified as the “rosetau,” the rose (red) cross (“Divine oblation to Osiris [Behemoth] Khent-Amenti, lord of Abydos...the disk...the rostau” - Hymn to Osiris). Cherubim are disk-shaped. It must also be noted the tau cross (rendered in Greek as a T) is the 19th letter of the Greek alphabet. Azazel’s prophesied release takes place on the 19th day of July 2016 A.D. In Freemasony, the symbol for Azazel, a tau cross, is represented by the T-square. The Rosicrucians, whose name means “rose cross” in German, names their secret organization after the rostau/disk/Osiris/Behemoth. The Germanic name Christian Rosenkreuz, which in English translates as ‘Christian Rose Cross,’ represents no other persona than the rebellious angel Azazel himself. The name is a play on words which may be interpreted as the christ of the red cross, representing Azazel, whose sign is the red cross, in reference to his future appearance as the false-christ/false prophet/messiah (See Revelations 16:13; according to the Rosicrucian Hargrave Jennings in The Rosicrucians: Their Rites and Mysteries, p.142, the color red is male and represents the Salvator, a Latin word meaning ‘Savior’). Theosophist Freethinker Ida C. Craddock provides another piece of our puzzle: “Why did these mystics call themselves Rosicrucian? Some writers have attempted to derive the name from two words meaning "dew" and "cross": but the usual interpretation is "followers of the Rosy Cross" (read: followers of Azazel) a cross with a rose (used analogously of Azazel) being used as the society's symbol.” - Heavenly Bridegrooms. (It must also be mentioned when one adds the disk (O) [Azazel’s cherub is disk-shaped], to the word Sirius, it becomes Osirius, and when one drops the ‘u’ it becomes Osiris. The heliacal rising of the star Sirius in 2016 A.D. takes place on the 19th day of July, the day Azazel in his disk-shaped red-cross emblazoned cherub is to emerge from his earthen imprisonment, claiming to be Christ. In this same way, the Babylonian god Ea, alternatively spelled Ia (another such god which represented Azazel/Behemoth), becomes the name of the Gnostic god Iao with the inclusion of the disk [O]). The words ‘Sirius’ and ‘Osiris’ are related to the Semetic word ‘Siru’: “Scholars ordinarily refer to the serpent god (who is Azazel) by the name Siru, being the Semitic word for serpent...” - p.120, Tammuz and Ishtar (S. Langdon, “Shillito Reader of Assyriology, Oxford,” 1914 A.D. It would also seem the name Isis is also derived from the word Osiris). As an additional added bonus note, in the ancient Babylonian system of Gematria, where letters are used to represent numbers, the number 10 is represented by the letters IA (which Roman numeral is represented by an X). ‘Ia’ of course is an alternative spelling of the name of the god ‘Ea.’ Compare the modern spelling of our number ‘ten’ to the name of the Egyptian sun disk ‘Aten’ (in Roman, A-X) (AX = IAO = OX). No doubt there exists a connection here. In the pictographic alphabet of the Egyptians, a horned ‘ox head’ (representative of the horned-god Azazel) was the equivalent of the Roman letter ‘A’ (and hence was also derived the anarchist symbol for Azazel, an A within a circle/disk [O]). All of these are designations for Azazel’s cherub Behemoth and by extension, Azazel. Additionally, Ax/Abrasax were synonymous terms: “You are Ax, you are Abrasax (Ab [father] + Ra [the disk] + S [the serpent] + A [horned oxhead/horned god] + X [ten] (A-ten)), the angel who sits upon the tree of Paradise...” (A-X is the Archaic Latin alphabetic version of the classical Greek Alpha-Omega, the title of the resurrected Christ (See Revelations 22:13). Both are the first and last letters of their respective alphabets. Perhaps it signifies a Creator/Destroyer, an angel and the cherub [the word ‘destroyer’ in The Bible is used synonymously with that of the word ‘cherub’] to which he was assigned). As such an ax is often used as a symbol for Abrasax/Azazel (compare ‘ax’ to the Greek word ‘aix’ which means ‘goat’ (note the addition of the phallic ‘pillar,’ I). The Hebrew word for a male goat is also used to denote a demon. The demons are the rebellious fallen angels. For this reason Satyrs/demons, representative of fallen angels, are symbolically represented as being goat-like in appearance, such as the god Pan, the king of satyrs, who represented Azazel). The letter ‘O’ was derived from the Semitic `Ayin (eye), and hence, the ‘eye (disk) of Horus,’ also known as Azazel’s cherub Behemoth. Constantine’s ‘IX monogram’ (also employed by the Merovingians) often encircled with the disk in its various forms is likewise esoterically connected with the false christ Azazel. Constantine never actually abandoned his pagan beliefs, he simply applied a Christian veneer. A phallis also is a symbol used to represent Azazel, often represented as an ‘I,’ it being representative of Osiris’ phallis which according to one version of the Osiris legend was the single dismembered member of Osiris’ dissected corpse retrieved by the goddess Isis. One may conclude this to be the origin of the artificial stone phalli and priapic statues employed in Egyptian magic rituals, it representing Osiris’ amputated phallis. I believe such priapic idols were actually used to perform hiero gamos magic rituals involving the ritual rending of a virgin’s hymen. The Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn also esoterically derives its name from Azazel. Hermes was another Egyptian name for Azazel, he of a thousand names. The Golden Dawn is analogous of the solar disk, the sun, which like Azazel’s cherub Behemoth, is disk- shaped and rises at dawn, which is the expected time of Azazel’s future release (“the holy one (read: the angel Azazel in his cherub) appeared...;; as a golden dawn did he appear...” - Aleister Crowley’s LIBER ARCANORUM τών ATU τού TAHUTI QUAS VIDIT ASAR IN AMENNTI SUB FIGUR CCXXXI LIBER CARCERORUM τών QLIPHOTH CUM SUIS GENIIS. ADDUNTUR SIGILLA ET NOMINA EORUM) (in the Egyptian Book of the Dead Plate XXI B.D. Chap. XV it was said the Egyptian god Ra, who represented the angel Azazel, “risest at dawn” in allusion to the time of Azazel’s release). Israeli Regardie, a Rosicrucian who later joined the Stella Matutina, a successor organization of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn (Regardie served as personal secretary to Aleister Crowley), writes in his book entitled The Golden Dawn: “‘The Rose- Cross’... is a glyph...of the higher Genius (read: angel) to whose knowledge and conversation the student is eternally aspiring” (in reference to Aleister Crowley’s “attainment of the Knowledge and Conversation of the Holy Guardian Angel”). The ‘Genius’ of which Regardie speaks with whom such individuals sought to converse is a so-called ‘guardian angel,’ the angel Azazel. His glyph/symbol is the rose cross/red cross. Indeed, Azazel is known as Sirius, the Hidden God of the Illuminati (the Illuminati/angels are also known as the ‘Grand Masters of the Templars’), so named as his return is associated with the Dog Star Sirius. This fact is important enough to repeat. Azazel is known as the “Hidden God Sirius”: “In his book ‘Magickal Revival’ Grant writes that Phoenix was (Aleister) Crowley’s most secret name. It represented the ancient Constellation in which Sothis (Seth) or Sirius was the highest star. He writes that Crowley associated the very heart of his teachings and ‘Magick’ with a certain star, namely the ‘Sun behind the Sun,’ the ‘Hidden God Sirius.’ The secret of the Illuminati, or the Enlightened Ones is the blazing star Sirius, Grant writes.” – The Sirius Mysteries (Notable quote: “To the Egyptians, the Sun behind the Sun was known as Osiris (a god who represents Behemoth/Azazel) and also as Amun-RA, the Hidden Sun.” - The Book of the Master by Marshall Adams. Indeed, the Egyptian Hymn to Osiris-Soka is a summons/call addressing the angel Azazel in greeting: “Hail, thou hidden God, Osiris (Behemoth/Azazel; Sirius is a cognate of Osiris) in the underworld!”) (The Great Hymn of Aten, Aten being representative of Azazel’s cherub Behemoth, is called therein the “hidden...god...in the underworld...”). Crowley was merely carrying on a long established magic tradition, most noteably of the magic practiced by high-degree Freemasons (often gleened from ongoing archaeological discoveries): “The Ancient Astronomers (astronomers were as a rule astrologers/sorcerers) saw all the great Symbols of Masonry in the Stars. Sirius glitters in our (Freemasonic) lodges as the Blazing Star (which is a symbol of Azazel. ‘Blazing’ is synonymous with ‘shining’**).” - Morals and Dogma of the Ancient and Accepted Rite of Scottish Freemasonry by Albert Pike. Indeed, as we learn from C. W. Leadbeater (a prominent member of the Theosophical Society) in Glimpses of Masonic History the Blazing Star Sirius (representative of Azazel), the so-called glyph of the higher genius with whom all practitioners of magic sought to contact, was symbolized by “the Rose which ever blossoms at the heart of the Cross,” the very symbol of the Rosicrucians themselves. Compare to the Dogon tribe in Africa which also portrays the helical rising of Sirius as a cross with a flower-like sun at its center. (The fallen angel Azazel is associated with the star Sirius. The Five- Pointed Star, the pentagram/pentagon, is the icon of Sirius, and as such, the icon of Azazel, as well as the esoteric importance of the five-pointed Blazing Star of the Masons. The symbol of the star Sirius as a symbol of Azazel hearkens back to Biblical days: “Yea, ye took up the tabernacle of Moloch [their King Azazel], and the star [called a Chiun] of your god Remphan [Azazel], figures which ye made to worship them: and I will carry you away beyond Babylon.” - Acts 7:43; and again: “But ye have borne the tabernacle of your Moloch [their King Azazel] and Chiun your images, the star of your god [Remphan/Azazel], which ye made to yourselves.” - Amos 5:26) (** “According to Sufi expert Idries Shah the “true rulers of the world are the ‘Enlightened Ones’” (Illuminati) [read: the fallen angels] and the Sufi have discovered their secret in the Quran in the following verse: “Allah [who is Azazel] is the Light of the Heavens and the Earth. His Light is resembled by a lamp within a niche. The lamp within a crystal, like a shining (blazing) star.” He claims the allusion to a ‘shining star’ is a reference to ‘Sirius’ (See The Sirius Mysteries). The angels are known as the Shining Ones and a star is often used as the symbol for an angel, hence Shining Star/Blazing Star) (A Not- so-notable Quote: “Such surely is the destiny that awaits our beloved Order in the future;; such the splendour that will transfigure the Craft [Freemasonry] in the years that are to come, until within its temple walls once more is raised - not only in symbol but in actual fact (upon Azazel’s release from his earthen imprisonment) - the ladder which stretches between earth and heaven, between men and the Grand Lodge above, to lead them from the darkness of the world to the fullness of light in God (he speaks not, to be sure, of the God of Christians and Jews, but of the god of the Craft, who is Azazel), to the Rose which ever blossoms at the heart of the Cross, to the Blazing Star whose shining brings peace and strength and blessing to all the worlds.” - Glimpses of Masonic History by C. W. Leadbeater) According to a footnote to The Dionysian Artificers: “Thamuz (a variant spelling of Tammuz) signifies the name of a month, and likewise the name of an idol or divinity, which even in the opinion of St. Jerome is the same as (the god) Adonis (both are gods who represent the angel Azazel). Plutarch says that the Egyptians called Osiris Ammuz, and from thence was corruptly derived the name of Jupiter Ammon (‘Ammon,’ a varient spelling of ‘Ammoum,’ means ‘the Hidden One.’ See p.29 Witchcraft for Tomorrow by Doreen Valiente, 1978 A.D.). Robertson (Thesaurus Linguae Sanctae) says that the word Ammuz (read Ammoum) used by Herodotus and תםוז Plutarch, were corruptions from the Hebrew Thamuz (Hebrew {Hebrew TMWZ}). I would rather say that the word was originally ת Egyptian, and made Hebrew by the addition of the formative {Hebrew T})...” And so was an Egyptian name for Azazel, namely Ammuz, transformed into Tammuz by the addition of the symbol for Azazel, namely, the tau cross (rendered in Greek as a T; in the Phoenician alphabet, the Greek ‘T’ takes the form of another enigmatic symbol of Azazel’s cherub Behemoth, the quartered circle/‘x’ within a circle, pronounced ‘tet’ and meaning ‘wheel,’ a Biblical name for a cherub). It must be noted The Dionysian Articifers (circa. 1820 A.D.) is an essay written by an eminent Brazilian Freemason. The Greek Dionysiacs as they were also called was an association of architects and engineers, followers of the god Dionysius (also known as Bacchus) and builders of temples, theatres and stadia, an early society of Freemasons. As earlier noted, in Freemasonry the tau cross, the symbol of Azazel, is represented by the T-square. (Notable quote: “The TAU [the sign of Azazel] is the central figure of the Theosophical Seal [employed by the Theosophical Society] and the heart of its message.” - The Theosophical Seal by Arthur M. Coon, 1958 A.D.) (The Thames River in England is named after Thamuz/Azazel: “The Thames through Oxford is often given the name the River Isis, although historically, and especially in Victorian times, gazetteers and cartographers insisted that the entire river was correctly named the River Isis from its source until Dorchester-on-Thames. Only at this point, where the river meets the River Thame and becomes the “Thame-isis” (subsequently abbreviated to Thames) should it be so-called; Ordnance Survey maps still label the Thames as “River Thames or Isis” until Dorchester.” – Wikipedia: River Thames. Isis, it must be remembered, is an Egyptian name for Azazel’s human wife) (The Hammer of the god Thor, who represented Azazel, in form resembles and represents a tau cross (T), the sign of Azazel) The Rose Window (the rosette window) on the façade of the Rosslyn Chapel (aka the Collegiate Chapel of St Matthew) located at the village of Roslin, Midlothian, Scotland, employs such rose cross symbolism in its architechural design. This is a symbol of the future release of the angel Azazel. Other architectural features of Rosslyn��Chapel include over 110 ‘Green Man’ carvings. The Green Man represents the angel Azazel (the Egyptian god Osiris, a god who represented Azazel/Behemoth, was depicted with green skin). Ancient Sumerian depictions of Azazel show him wearing rosette bracelets (which would account for the rose being used as a symbol of Azazel). It must be noted the Rosslyn Chapel was erected by 15th Century Masons acting under the auspices of the Roman Catholic Church. Ceremonial magician A.E. Waite and one-time Chief of the Druid Order in England Godfrey Higgins believed that the secret to forming the Philosopher’s Stone with the aid of dew was the secret concealed in the Rosicrucian name. One interpretation of the Rose Cross is that the rose represents the dew in an alchemical process, as Rosi Crucis translates as ‘dew cup.’ The following scripture esoterically refer to regeneration as it refers to the Resurrection. Note the use of the rose motif to symbolize regeneration (Franz Hartmann has stated “the greatest of all magical feats” is “the spiritual regeneration of man.” See the Preface to Third Edition of Magic, White and Black). Flowers are often used as symbols to represent the human body: “...your body is the garden of flowers.” - The Songs of Kabir “Listen to me, you holy sons, and bud like a rose which grows by a watercourse; exhale fragrance like a frankincense tree, and blossom like a lily. Give forth an odor and sing a song, bless the Lord (God) for all His works.” - The Wisdom of Sirach 39:13-14 “How glorious he was...Like roses in the days of first fruits, like lilies by a spring of water, like a sprig of frankincense, on summer days, like fire and incense in the censer...” - The Wisdom of Sirach 50:8,9 “I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys.” - Song of Songs 2:1 (KJV) (Lilys of the valley are hexagonal in shape) The rose and the cross of the Rosicrucians also symbolize regeneration. To Rosicrucians, the rosy cross can represent the formula for the Universal Medicine, the panacea for all forms of disease. In addition to the Rosicrucians, the Rose/Cross motif is shared by the Masons (as evidenced by The Scottish Rite ‘18th degree Knight of the Rose Cross’). To the Masons the rose/cross was in one respect the symbol of regeneration: “The rose is the ancient emblem of spring. Upon the cross it signifies...man regenerated” (Ancient Masonry C.C. Zain 1994 p. 249). It must be noted a five-petaled rose is used to represent a pentagram, while a six-petaled rose represented a hexagram. The cross is an esoteric symbol for a transverse electromagnetic wave; a hexagram represents a standing wave (See The Knowledge of Wisdom by John of the Gentiles). The Rose/Cross motif is also a symbol of (as evidenced by the Rosy Cross lamen of) the magic group known as the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. These organizations are all associated and the use of shared motifs, vis a vis, evidence these organization’s shared beliefs, as well as their shared associations. Members of one such order are often members of similar orders. These organizations are cell-like and dynamic, and like the hydra of old, they have many heads working towards the same final goal, so the loss of one does not result in the destruction of all, while others will spring up in its stead. The beast lives on to fight another day. The ancient Roman practice of adorning with roses the door of a room in which confidential matters were discussed gave birth to the phrase “sub rosa,” which translates as “under the rose,” meaning, “to keep a secret” (Notable quote: “...brought from ancient Egypt, is the Cross upon the Rose — Cross, symbol of life, Rose, symbol of matter and symbol of secrecy as well.” – The Brotherhood of Religions by Annie Besant Adyar Pamphlets No.24). These were secret meetings of secret societies discussing secret matters. The Romans called the rose the ‘Flower of Venus.’ The goddess Venus represented the angel Azazel’s human wife. King Arthur and his Round Table used Rosicrucian motifs, or, rather, vice versa. The rose/cross symbol was said to be drawn upon the Round Table used by Arthur and his Knights (the Tree of Life is also a common symbol amongst Medieval knightly themes). Arthur’s/Azazel’s Round Table represented Azazel’s cherub Behemoth. The red cross was also associated with the Holy Grail which in the Arthurian legends was the Christianized symbolic version of the long sought after cherub of Azazel (Behemoth). A rose is also the central motif for the links of the chain upon which the “Great George” is suspended amongst the jewels of the Order of the Garter. The symbol of the Knights of the Garter is a red cross on a white shield. Both were/are Masonic organizations. One symbol of the Knights Templar was the red cross on a white background, also by design symbolic of Azazel’s cherub (the rose/cross combination was also the badge [talisman/magic charm] of the Knights Templar group). The tradition continues today with the Red Cross organization. It must be mentioned many of the gods which represented Azazel were gods associated with healing. The Sumerians worshipped Azazel as Ninazu (nin means ‘lord’), the god of healing and of the underworld. The Romans knew him as Aesculapius, the god of medicine, and he was known to be as well the Greek and Phoenician god of healing. The red cross which represents the god-angel of healing Azazel is for this reason used as a symbol of the medical organization known as the International Federation of the Red Cross, most commonly known as the Red Cross. (Notable quote: “Many of the magical charms and spells were for the healing of the sick or for the prevention of disease...Many charms and spells surviving to the present day contain the names of pre-Christian gods (all representing the angel Azazel). These spells are usually connected with cures for diseases in human beings and animals” - p.75 The God of the Witches by Margaret Alice Murray, D.Lit., “Fellow of University College, London,” 1933 A.D.) Aesculapius (Azazel) was the Roman god of medicine as well as the Greek and Phoenician god of healing. He was often depicted wielding what is known as the Staff of Aesculapius. Various medical organizations adopted the Staff of Aesculapius as its medical insignia, the staff itself consisting of an axial rod with a single winged serpent entwined about it. The U.S. Army Medical Corp has the Staff of Aesculapius as its insignia. The winged staff/serpent symbolism was also employed in the symbol of the Caduceus of Hermes. Enki’s emblem (Enki who also represented Azazel) was two entwined serpents and was the symbol of his ‘cult center’ at Eridu, same as that of the medical profession. This symbolism is also reminiscent of the Sumerian underworld god of healing, Ningishzida (Nin- means ‘divinity’/lord), whose symbol was two snakes entwined around a central axial rod (the Rod of Ningishzida is the symbol of the great guild of physicians in England) (It must be noted one of the many Egyptian titles for Azazel was “the two-headed serpent” (See the Egyptian Book of the Dead Plate XXXI)). The satyrs themselves carried a similar instrument known as a thyrsus, also known as the rod of Dionysus, a stick wound round with ivy and tipped with a pine (@ p.470 on scribd lol)

[calamity-bean]

Okay Barkskins fandom, I have. A weird one for you. I’m not even letting myself edit this before posting, because it’s almost certainly completely wrong but I like it so I just have to release the idea while it’s wild and free. One of those theories where I’m throwing out the question of whether it’s actually realistic/likely and more just saying “hey wouldn’t this be COOL.”

It basically hinges on me rewatching parts of 1.01 and being like, “Hm. Is it just me, or does this dead guy kind of look like Father Clape?”

The short beard, the thin face with prominent, rounded cheekbones... It’s not definitive, but it got me to thinking. The dead guy is from the beginning of the episode, one of the people killed in the raid by the creek. Specifically, he’s the one whom Renardette literally stumbles upon, accidentally planting her hand square on his chest as she flees, painting her palm with his blood. As for Clape... Renardette is a mystery in that nobody in Wobik recognizes her, but Clape is his own mystery in that it’s unclear how he survived the raid. Marth and Lafarge are adamant that there were no survivors. They missed Renardette because she hid in a tree; did Clape hide as well? Or was he not missed at all?

When Hamish and Yvon meet Clape, he’s shirtless (so: unclear if his old shirt would have, say, been bloodstained?), wearing nothing but good ol’ 17th century undies, praying over the body of a boy. He’s also clearly a bit out of it, which I don’t fault him for; even disregarding all supernatural theories, he’s been through a horrifying thing. But I do find interesting his what he says upon seeing the wolf: “Don’t you see it? It is Azazel. Sprung from the abyss” -- and then that scream. When our Company boys try to follow the wolf, they find no trace of it... Instead, right where the wolf lead them, they find Renardette. 

So, like. Just to go nuts here. Many of us have already discussed the idea of Renardette possibly being a witch or otherwise having some sort of witchlike themes. So what if Clape didn’t survive the raid? What if that was his body Renardette stumbled upon? What if, whether or not she meant to, whether she even knew she had the capacity, what if when she touched him she brought him back from the abyss, and Clape’s strange words and strange behavior are due not only to the trauma of the raid but also to the trauma of having died?

And then there’s Cross! Also notable for his strange behavior, also connected to Renardette! And remember in 1.06 or 1.07 when Cross pulls that body out of the river? When asked who it is, he says, “It is me.” Ostensibly, it’s a settler from the creek -- a settler that Cross killed, in fact, immediately before Renardette came upon him: “I killed him in front of his son. And then... the girl came. She smiled.” But honestly, the first time I watched that scene, I straight-up thought the body in the water was going to literally be Cross, that he literally had died and was pulling his own body out of there. And now I’m just looking at that dialogue again and thinking... He killed the man in front of the man’s son, you say? And immediately afterward, Renardette came upon them...?

I know Clape is a priest, obviously, and although idk about today, I’m assuming Jesuits in that era weren’t supposed to have kids. But who’s to say Cross, at least, didn’t simply think that this boy we see Clape burying was Clape’s son.

I do NOT know, man! I’m stringing together this theory in pure pepesilvia.jpg mode. It’s confusing, too, because what we see happen to Renardette at the beginning of 1.01 doesn’t explicitly match up with Cross’s version of events; when did they run into each other? Before she ran into the woods? After she came down in the tree? Or as it somewhere in the middle and we simply weren’t shown it? (Lafarge says Cross was there when the action started but then vanished into the woods during the attack; at what point?) Did Clape actually die? Did Cross actually die? Even if that body at the beginning wasn’t Clape, could stumbling upon that body have been around the moment Renardette met Cross? What is the meaning of Renardette’s smile? 

This is all weird and interesting enough when only Clape and Cross are considered, but, of course, I have another reason for being invested as well. Because when it comes to the concept of how death might be reversed, or affected, or even simply witnessed by Renardette...

Well, suffice to say there’s an ongoing situation that I’m very interested in seeing play out.

[kurtty-drabbles]

The Switch (part 6 and final?)

N/A: An opening ending for those two. Kurt has things to deal with his family and Kitty can´t back away from magic.

@dannybagpipesarecalling @tieflingteeth

Meditation is becoming the new normal to Kitty Pryde. Even more so, as the X-men are finally aware of Kitty´s potential at wrapping reality and what this could mean to everyone. In a sense, Kitty ponders if that was how it was meant to be, she bluntly confessing her new ability as she saves her friends once again.

When you defy gravity. You can fly. This was a line Kitty repeats in her head as she meditates. You see, she was never once one to enjoy musicals all that much but as her shadow is the only thing stuck on the floor...this line has merit.

She opens her eyes to linger on her master, Wanda Maximoff, floating and her eyes are closed. For a moment, Kitty has the sense Wanda is galaxies away from her. "I can sense your wandering soul, Wanda" is a line Kitty loves to use.

"You do? Fantastic...wanna go to Shiar see a new weeding?" Wanda states with her eyes crimson and a tiny smile on her pretty face. Kitty responds by only shaking her head. "Very well, if you see one wedding ...you saw it all"

Kitty chuckles at this. Then, her smiles die and her worries come back with a vengeance.

"Ok, I can sense your worries too. Tell me, what´s afflicting your big brain?" Wanda gentle jabs. If Wanda is the poster-child of a typical witch, then Kitty is the poster child of an atypical witch.

"Well, I was just thinking...I told Kurt about my powers and I...don´t think that was the reaction I was hoping for" biting her lips as her eyes fell. Down to the rabbit hole. Only metaphorically speaking.

Wanda hummed softly as she seems to take time to measure her words. "I can´t say how it should have gone...in my humble opinion, that was not bad outcome...no one is asking you to reshape reality at your will" is not clear if this is a joke or not.

Better not ask. Wanda is Scarlet Witch and also the Sorceress Supreme...she saw enough, more than enough.

"Well, yes...I guess...but, Kurt looks so mad, betray at me..." she can´t stop biting her lips. "Shouldn´t he be happy for me?"

"Should he?" Wanda counter-ask now lowering them down. There´s nothing more polite than talk about feelings while still grounded.

"Well, yes?" the dubious tone is stronger than her old petulance. Kitty is no longer a pretentious little girl, no, she´s now a young woman whose magic is the result of a big mistake of a silly little girl.

Wanda remains mute for a minute. That´s never good.

"I mean, I take my magic seriously. I don´t use to harm people...so, I´m not sure why he would be so betrayed at me" Kitty confessed.

Wanda hummed again.

"Is not my role to tell you this...I´m hardly Kurt´s friends, let alone someone that knows him as X-men" is an honest confession. No hatred in her words. Only the truth. "But I know enough about his foster family. The Szardos" Wanda concludes.

Kitty is paying attention. If Scarlet Witch has something to tell...you listen closely.

"Margalia Szardos is, well, let´s say, was...a terrible woman and can´t even be considered a mediocre witch" Wanda commences. "I...know this story thanks to all the whispers and rumors the magic society provides"

Kitty is itching to make a Harry Potter joke right here and now.

"And because, unlike what a certain saga says, we witches can use phones...Agatha loves to be on Instagram" her face recoils. "And she did well on her promise on going to a nudist beach"

Kitty mirrors Wanda´s expression right now. "Me too...I chose to see that Agatha is confident in her body to do that...I took something positive from that...story"

Moving on...

"Anway, the Szardos are the ones who posed as Romani and milk all the harmful stereotype from my people" Wanda´s tone is not hiding her anger and disgust.

"Wanda..."

"And I know that I, myself, is a Romani woman. I know...I know what people say about me and my people. Hell, I even know how some Romani groups fear me..." her eyes look away as her face fell a little.

Kitty takes her hand and speaks. "Look at me, I´m an American, Jewish, Mutant, and Bi woman" her tone is strong as it should be. As is always is. "and now I can do magic, do you know how many jerkasses use this to degrade my heritage? Lots...do you think I let them win? Hell no" flashes a smirk.

"I talked with my family about my new founded powers and while it is new and strange...it doesn´t take my Jewish away" Kitty has a firm look on her face, full of determination and something else.

"I see" Wanda has a ghost of a smile on her lips. "I´m Romani...and I hate how my powers are enough to make some people think the persecution of my people was justified...I fight my battles with and without magic" her tone mirrors Kitty.

Master and pupil have something in common.

"But my point is, the Szardos milk those cliches ...and killed children to boost their magic power," Wanda said that in a clinical and cooly way. Kitty´s mouth opens and closes...She can´t see Kurt being among child killers.

"It was a magic guard, so to speak, not sure if they have a real title, anyway...they captured Margalia and Jimaine...Margalia used to be a lover of Azazel and took one of his offsprings, I think is Kurt"

Kitty´s eyes flare-up. "Kurt is not a demon and never will be"

"I trust your judgment then. Azazel, for his part, seems to think he could have been a great demon" Wanda shakes her head. That´s not the point. "Along with many other crimes, Jimaine used magic to disguise herself as...Amanda"

The name causes dread into Kitty´s being.

"Yes, she dated her own step-brother and manipulated him"

Kitty shakes her head. Remembering an Amanda whose name was often spoken with distaste by Ororo and Logan.

"From what I heard...Amanda and Jimaine often exchange bodies for their own plot...and at the time, she was seeing Kurt"

Kitty wants to throw up.

___________________________________________________________________________________________

Dr. Strange indeed is back. Agatha would be proud to know she was right, but at the moment. Dr. Strange is back and is only responding to his wife. Clea is not exactly unhappy nor happy with this revelation.

"You...were dead? I bury you!"

Dr. Strange then shows his hands. "I did this to get higher learning...I learn how to fix my hands and still use magic"

"And the price was your life?"

"temporarily"

Clea has lots to think about and doesn´t want to be near Dr. Strange. Her mind is fuzzy. Is magic worth all that much for him?

____________________________________________________________________________________

Kurt is perched on his window mulling over the facts. Oh, Kurt can be accused of hating introspection, he can´t, however, be accused of not doing it.

Kitty is a magic cat now. What does this mean for them?

Kurt is unsure and he doesn´t like to be so unsure. No one does.

"Knock, knock" a voice gently boomed into his room and golden eyes notice the doe eyes of one Kitty Pryde. "Can we talk?"

Kurt said nothing. Is a silent invitation if Kitty ever needed one.

"You dislike magic and I can see why...but Kurt, my magic won´t change...I´ll never hurt you or anyone else"

"Amanda said the same...how can I know you´re not going to do the same?"

"Because you´re my best friend, Kurt. I rather die than hurt you in any way"

"I´m...confused"

"and I´m here...Kurt, talk with me...please"

"Ok, where do I begin..."

[h-o-l-l-i]

In My Dreams

Winchester Brothers x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Language, character death, angst

Author’s Note: Requests reopen on 7/15! Let me know what you think of this and let me know if you would like to be added to any of my tags!

This was requested by @coffee-obsessed-writer, she’s the best human ever, go give her a follow and thank me later; her work is amazing!

Everything: @negans-lucille-tblr

SPN: @coffee-obsessed-writer // @roonyxx // @mrsjaxtellerfan // @princessofthefandomrealm // @witch-of-letters // @lauravic // @destielhoneybee // @keymology

Dean Winchester: @akshi8278

Your eyes shook, sending the welled tears over the edge of your eyelids and spilled down onto your cheeks. You uncrossed your arms and rapidly wiped them away from your face, your breath hitched inside your throat and you slid back further into the closet when your ears perked up at the sound of heavy footsteps approaching you.

“Hello?” A curious voice rang out followed by a few more footsteps, “Is there anyone in here? Hello?” The man’s voice became more clear as he rounded the corner and walked into the room where you were hiding.

As soon as he entered the threshold of your hide out room you flung open the closet door and swung an old iron pipe like a baseball bat, nailing him in the right shoulder. You let go of your weapon, it crashed down onto the ground with a loud clattering and you ran past the stranger.

“Hey!” He shouted and ran after you, “Wait! I’m not going to hurt you!” His long legs allowed him to catch up to you, “It’s locked…I tried that one already.” He caught his breath, you frantically darted your eyes for an exit plan but found nothing. “Hey.” His tone was low and calm, he raised on of his large hands and reached out towards you, “I’m not going to hurt you, you’re safe…” he stepped closer to you cautiously.

“I’m Sam.” He placed his hand on his chest and furrowed his eyebrows sincerely.

“Y/N.” You nodded and relaxed your shoulders slightly at his sincerity. “Sorry.” You motioned to his shoulder where you had just hit him with.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N.” He paused and smiled, you admired Sam’s dimples for just a moment before they disappeared, “Do you know where we are?” He tucked his fingers into his front pockets of his jeans and turned his head to analyze the room again.

You shook your head and tightened your jaw, “No. None of us know where we are.”

“Us?” His back straightened, “There’s others?”

“Yeah…” you agreed, “As far as I know they’re like us too.” Your eyes looked into his.

“Like us?” He lowered his head to maintain the eye contact with you, “What’s going on here, Y/N?”

“Powers, Sam.” You blurted out, “I can see the future;” you paused, “Other dimensions.” You hopped slightly and sat on the countertop of the kitchen you were in with Sam. “He was building an army and he put us all…” you motioned around you, “here, wherever here is anyway, to see who kills off who and the winner leads his army.” Sam looked to you with a thin crease in between his eyebrows, “With my powers I can tell what his plan was and why we are all here.” You paused, “What’s yours, Sam?” His face showed how confused and stunned he was, but he was taking all of this information very well you thought.

“I—I uh can move things with my mind and my dreams; sometimes they happen.” Sam confessed, “Y/N, you said he put us here. Who is he?”

You remained silent for a few moments and just kicked your feet that dangled from the edge of the counter, you took a long deep breath in, “We’re the same, Sam. You and I; he gave us the same blood and we ended up with the same powers.” You chucked in irony.

Sam’s face dropped and he came to you quickly, “What did you just say?” He clenched his jaw, his hazel eyes bounced to your eyes. “Azazel.” He almost whispered.

“You know him?” You asked him, “Did he come into your dreams like he did with mine?”

“No, he uh—” he paused, “I’m a hunter.”

“Congratulations, so is half of America.” You scoffed.

“No, like demons and monsters—Azazel killed my mom when I was a baby. My dad became obsessed over hunting him down, my brother and I grew up hunting everything that goes bump in the night.” He confessed and you nodded your head in understanding. “You’re the first person I’ve told any of this that’s taking it all so well—”

“Yeah well anything is possible at this point Sam.” You laughed, your laughter lightened the intense air that filled the room.

“Don’t worry, my brother is going to find us and help figure all of this out, Y/N.” He paused, gently placed his hand on your knee and smiled slightly, his dimples reappearing. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, you hear me.” He paused, “Neither one of us is dying here.” You nodded and held his hand inside of yours. “We’re going to get help soon, my brother—”

“Dean.” You raised your eyebrows to him, “Right.” You shook your head and brought your hand up to your forehead, “I’ve—I met you and Dean before.” You let out a deep sigh, “Under different circumstances but, we’ve met.” 

___

“I’m telling you Bobby, he’s here.” Dean’s voice shouted through the phone making Bobby lift the phone from his ear.

“Take it easy there, kid.” His clam voice spoke back to him with a steady rhythm, “We don’t know exactly what you’re walkin into.”

“I don’t care, it’s Sammy were talking about!” His attitude flared.

“And all the more reason to go into this smart, Dean. A town full of psychic kids trying to kill each other, not a smart move to just waltz right in there.” Bobby warned him.

“I’m already here.” Dean flicked the phone and it snapped shut. He rounded the end of the impala and opened the truck gathering an array of weapons.

___

“Sam.” You whispered and peered around the corner, you took your steps carefully making sure not to step on a loose board and alerting the last person alive that wasn’t you or Sam.  You straightened up and ran towards the glass door of the small abandoned shop you were in, “Sam!” You shouted in attempt to gather his attention. “No!” You shrieked when Jake appeared out of nowhere. Your shoes kicked up small puffs of dirt as you ran as fast as you could towards them.

“I win.” Jake snarled as he ripped the knife into Sam’s body and slumped him to the ground.

“Sammy!” Dean’s voice echoed through the abandoned village, a fierce look was etched on his strong face what was illuminated by the blue moonlight. Dean’s face dropped when he saw the small flash of Jake’s blood tinged blade, his hand quickly came up to the inside of his jacket and retrieved his gun and didn’t hesitate.

You watched Dean kill Jake from a few yards away where you decided to slink behind to hide. Your eyes teared up when Dean dropped to his knees and took Sam’s face into his hands and they rocked back and forth; you couldn’t make out what he was saying but you could tell that Dean was talking to his dying little brother.

You silently made your way out of your cover and over to Dean, your eyes stared intently at the life that was draining from Sam’s eyes. You shoe kicked a rock that alerted the grieving Winchester. He spun around, his cheeks glistened in the moonlight and his hand clutched a gun that was pointed firmly at you.

“Dean—” you raised your hands in defense, “I—please don’t kill me—I’m not like Jake, please.”

“How do you know my name? Christo!” He snarled. His head tilted to the side when you didn’t flinch at the Latin word. “Tell me why I shouldn’t just kill you right now!” He stepped closer to you, your face only inches away from coming into contact with the barrel of the gun.

“I know how to get Sammy back.” You pleaded with him, “I’m like your bother—I know you and Sam.” You explained, “I can see what will happen and in different dimensions—we’ve met actually. I can help.” You paused and  Dean lowered the gun, you stepped closer to him and he raised it once more, “I’ve seen Sam die before—I, I just didn’t know it would be here; now. But I can help you, Dean.” You offered to him. “Let me help, like Sam helped me here…” you ran on, “I’ve helped you get him back before, in my dreams—I can help.”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows, his blood shot eyes glazed over for a moment as he mulled over your offer. He pursed his lips and placed his gun back into the inside pocket of his brown leather jacket, “You don’t touch him, got it.” You accepted with a silent nod and Dean knelt down next to Sam, you stayed behind, respecting Dean’s space. He stuffed his hand into his pocket and pulled out his small keyring. “My car, it’s down the road about a mile, it’s a black ’67 chevy impala; I’ll stay here with him.”

You offered him a half smile and retrieved the keys from the older Winchester and turned on your heel to begin jogging down the long road in search of the black car.

___

The ride was silent, the road that Dean sped down was cloaked in darkness with only the occasional yellow hue dashing across the interior of the impala from an old streetlight. You sat in the front seat next to Dean; Dean’s eyes glancing back at Sam’s lifeless body that was curled up in the backseat. “So what do we do now, Y/N?” His rough voice hurt inside his throat.

“You—I’m my dreams you make a deal…to get Sam back.” You said gently and picked at the hem of your jacket. “Then Sam is alive…” your voice trailed.

“And what happens to you?” His grip on the steering wheel tightened and he gave you the side eye, “I don’t know what happens to me then.” Your wiped your eye dry from the tear that was threatening to escape. “I’ve got nothing left to go back to…” you cleared your throat.

“I’ve got no one too…you can stay with us until you get back on your feet.” He paused and looked over to you, “That’s what Sammy would do.”

You reached over and laced your finders over his, “You’ll get him back, Dean.” Your voice thick with sincerity and hope.

“We both know what it costs.” He clenched his jaw tightly, “You need to be there for him when the time comes.” You opened your mouth to protest his words but he continued, his tone more firm this time, “Promise me, Y/N.”

“Okay.” You nodded.

“If you decide to stay with us after we get Sammy back, he’ll need you when I’m not there.” He clarified, you nodded in understanding.

___

“All right you son-of-a-bitch, you already know I’ll say ye—”

“Dean Winchester.” A woman’s voice sliced through the damp night air, “I have to say, this is record time for you Winchester’s.” Her eyes flashed a vibrant hue of crimson. “You brought a gift.” Her attention drifted to the impala that was parked along on of the roads of the intersection.

“She’s got nothing to do with this—I want Sam back, now!” His voice erupted.

“Didn’t your mommy ever teach you to share—oh wait.” Her lips curled up into a sinister smile, knowing that her words cut through Dean’s thick skin. Dean’s lips frowned severely and he gripped the demon blade tightly in his hand, “Alright alright…don’t bring up dead mommy, got it.” She raised her hands in defense sarcastically. “Let’s just talk about your dead brother then instead.”

“Deal.” He said never hesitating, “Whatever you want it’s a deal, just bring him back.”

“One year.” She ticked an eyebrow up at him inquisitively.

“Just bring him back.” He nodded and pressed his lips onto hers.

___

“There he is!” Dean’s voice was light with energy, he stood from the small chair he was anxiously waiting in with his leg bouncing. “Easy Sammy. How do you feel?”

Sam squinted his eyes and started to sit up, “What happened?” His groggy voice cleared his throat.

“Some son-of-a-bitch stabbed you but Y/N came to help me out and uh, she helped me fix you up.” Dean pointed and Sam followed his gesture to where you were leaned against the windowsill in the far corner of the room.

“Hey, Y/N. Thanks.” He smirked at you, God how you missed those dimples of his.

You walked over to the bed he was sitting in, “No problem, Sam. You helped me in there; I was just returning the favor.” You smiled and crossed your arms, there was a few moments of silence and the air became increasingly thick between the three of you. Sam’s eyebrows furrowed as his curiosity grew within his mind, “I—I feel like I saw all of that happen before, you know; my dream—this happened before.” He paused his eyes wandered between you and his older brother Dean.

“Um, I’m going to go get some fresh air…” you smiled slightly and walked outside.” Dean’s eyes bugged out slightly when he locked eyes with you before you slid out of the door.

“She’s still here?” Sam asked, “Why?”

“She said she doesn’t have anyone else to go back to now…so I offered for her to stay with us for a while—she helped us out, it’s the least we can do for her—”

“Yeah, I know—” Sam smiled, “This same thing happened in my dream—Dean.”

“So, people have dreams all the time—” he tried to brush his brother’s words off as if they were untrue.

“The dream always starts the same way, with my death.” Sam paused and Dean shifted his weight, a tell-tale bluff that Dean always did. “You made a deal didn’t you?!” His voice flared, “Dean!” He shouted, you could hear him from outside which made you swallow your feelings and open the door back into the room. “How long did you get?”

“Year.” Dean bowed his head.

“One year! Dean!” Sam argued, tossing his hands up in frustration.

“I did it to save your ass, Sammy and I’d do it all over again!” Dean retorted back to his younger brother to justify his deal with the crossroads demon.

“I can help.” You interrupted, they both ignored you because they were so engrossed with arguing with each other over Dean’s actions. “I can help fix this.” They continued arguing. You began to become irritated with their ignorance and raised your voice, “Boys!” Your voice sent shockwaves through the room making everything rattle.

They both turned their attention to you finally, “I can stay with you and help you—the both of you figure a way out of this.” You look a deep breath in, “That is if you’ll still have me.”

They exchanged a look with each other and nodded, “Of course, Y/N.” Sam tucked his hair behind his ear. “We can figure a way out of the deal together.”

[ks-caster]

Raise a Little Hell

Fandom: Supernatural

Characters: Dean, Amara (but little kid Amara, come on) Castiel, Sam

Notes: So when I was originally watching season... 11, right? With Amara as the big bad? I was so excited for there to be a highly supernatural little kid because Dean is GREAT with kids - I wanted him to accidentally adopt the tiny murder child. And then the show tried to ship them?? And I had a very bad day. And outlined This Thing.

A partial chapter and my outline are available under the cut. TW for mentions of torture/child abuse.

At first, Anny clung to Dean like everything in the world was poison and he was the antidote; burying her face in his flannel when he held her, and wrapping her fist in his jeans when he had to set her down. She didn’t respond to strangers’ attempts to engage her, going rigid with terror when the lady at the drive-thru leaned down to ask her what toy she wanted. For Sam and Cas, she would manage a jerky shake of her head, or a nod like a spasm in her neck. Mostly, she alternated between half sleeping, her head on Dean’s leg as he drove, and gluing herself under his arm, shaking so hard it looked like someone had put her on vibrate.

After four hours of straight highway, Sam finally noticed a pattern. Having nothing better to do with himself than stare out the window and constantly re-adjust his legs in an attempt to get comfortable in the back seat, one thing he found himself paying attention to was the weather outside the window. It was partially cloudy, so a couple of times per hour it would get dark, then light, then dark again. When the sun radiated down uninhibited, reflecting off of passing cars, Anny’s terror increased. When it was shrouded and darkness fell, she calmed down. When they made a pit stop, he rooted around in the trunk for a blanket, draping it gently over her when they started the evening portion of the drive, covering her head. She tensed at first, and Dean raised an eyebrow at him—randomly covering the face of a young trauma victim was uncharacteristic for his normally so tactful brother—but then a tiny hand emerged, pulling the edge of the fleece down further, and Dean’s eyes widened, understanding. He draped his arm gently over the blanked, rubbing soothing circles into her back. The comforting darkness lulled her to sleep, and she stayed that way until they reached that night’s motel, stirring only a little when Dean picked her up to carry her into the room. They tried to set her up in a nest of cushions on the couch, but once she realized that Dean was leaving, her eyes flew open, found him in the room and fixed on him. She didn’t try to stop him, but she was shuddering violently, and after about two minutes, he ran a tired hand through his hair, got up, and brought the pillows and comforter from his bed. “You ever make a blanket fort, kid?” he asked, knowing she hadn’t, knowing he wouldn’t get a response, just talking to talk. Dean, as it turned out, has not lost the skills that he and Sam had perfected in their motel-hopping childhood, and when Sam got out of the shower, he flashed a look at them that might have been envy. “You know you want one,” Dean muttered, and Sam grinned, the same memories running through his head as he settled down on the other bed and turned out the light. The only illumination in the room was from Sam’s Laptop, which Cas was using to amuse himself while he waited for the humans to sleep. Whatever Anny was, she did sleep, it seemed. When Dean groggily regained consciousness that morning, he was able to slip out of the fort and take a shower without disturbing her. It helped that she’d cocooned herself in blankets, a down pillow over her head to block out all traces of light. After he’d finished washing up, he emerged from the bathroom to find Anny awake and alert, but looking less terrified than he’d imagined she’d be if she regained consciousness while he wasn’t there. Cas was sitting on the floor, near enough to her to make casual conversation easy, but far enough that he wasn’t in her space. Dean was at an angle that he could see the laptop screen, covered in pictures of different species of bees. “And they communicate through dancing,” he was explaining, but as soon as he and Anny realized Dean was back in the room, they both looked up. “Like some wonderfully frisky ladies I’ve met,” Dean finished for him, grinning and moving some cushions so he could sit down and lace up his shoes. Anny’s small fingers found the hem of his shirt and lifted it a few inches, and she visibly relaxed when she saw that the wounds to his back were still gone. She dropped the fabric, looking a little sheepish, but Dean ruffled her hair gently. Sam was out for his morning run; Cas hopped up to sit on the vanity and kept narrating facts about bees while Dean gave Anny a bath; her first in he couldn’t imagine how long. The water went solid brown, they drained the tub, and then scrubbed her until it was brown again. Dean had kind of expected her to be freaked about being naked, but she didn’t seem to notice the difference. By the end of it, her hair was no longer muted brown, but a soft auburn. Granted, it was matted and frizzy beyond repair and would probably all have to be cut off, but once she was wrapped in towels and back on Dean’s lap, he was able to convince her to let Cas comb it out. If it hurt, she didn’t react. “Honeybees’ wings flap more than eleven-thousand times an hour,” he explained quietly. “That’s what makes the buzzing sound when they fly.” He set Sam’s comb down on the vanity, and Dean stood up, taking Anny with him. “Sleepy?” he asked as her damp head lolled against his shoulder. “Yeah, I break out in yawns when Cas monologues about bugs too,” he laughed. Anny frowned a little, eyes looking sad, and Dean backpedaled. “Well, I mean… I guess it’s interesting though. In a nerdy sort of way. Maybe you’re just smarter than me, and that’s why you enjoy it.” Anny’s forehead scrunched, and she cocked her head to one side, her confusion looking just like Cas’s. She didn’t have any other clothes, but Sam showed them how to make a dress out of a tied-up shirt, and once Dean was done laughing at him for the things he googled at 3am, they rolled up the sleeves of another one to make a jacket of sorts. “Now she looks like a Winchester,” Cas laughed, and it might have been Dean’s imagination, but he thought maybe she sat up a little bit straighter. The last six hours in the car went a little more smoothly; this time Dean offered Anny his leather jacket to block out the sun, and she curled up under it, but reached out a hand that he obligingly wrapped in his own. They were able to get her to eat decently at lunch—she’d been having trouble getting food down, but today she managed almost an entire waffle, slathered in honey. It probably helped that the way Cas describe the stuff, it sounded like some kind of divine miracle. Which, thinking about it, Dean supposed that it was. Anny regarded the bunker with the same tired disinterest she’d shown to every other new place so far; looking vaguely around, then taking a deep interest in Dean’s shirt collar. At least she wasn’t freaking out that she was underground again. She did, however, freak out when Sam started up the blender in the kitchen to make his freakin’ kale smoothie—as soon as the high-pitched whirring hit her ears, her whole body went rigid with terror.

Without missing a beat, Dean swept her up into his arms and headed away from the kitchen as fast as he could, getting as far as the garage before he could no longer hear the blender. He wasn’t sure if that was because they were out of hearing range or just because Sam’s smoothie was done. In any case, Anny began to calm down, and the tired look on her face almost looked like chagrin; like she realized she’d been upset over nothing and felt badly about it.

Outline (some parts of which may not make sense as I’ve redone it in parts since then:

May 2nd 2007, Jake Talley opened up Hell’s Gate, Dean Winchester sold his soul for his little brother’s life, and The Winchester family finally killed Azazel. However, unbeknownst to them, that particular Hell’s Gate sealed in something far older and more powerful than demons… A week or so later, a group of hikers find a newborn infant seemingly abandoned in the graveyard. She’s Caucasian, with startling green eyes and a fuzz of ink-black hair, and a funny-looking stork bite on her shoulder.

They try to take her to a safe haven drop off, but a witch is there to pick her up, claiming he’s an employee. He takes the infant with apparent professionalism, but once the hikers leave, he quickly sets it down in revulsion. He takes the baby back to his enclave where she is to be kept and controlled as she grows. Her human contact is limited—they don’t want her learning too much. 

She is neglected and later abused, because the witches want to ensure that not only is her power under control, so is her mind. They want to ensure that she is perfectly broken, and answers only to them. They carve sigils into her ribs and tattoo them into her skin, but she heals at such a phenomenal rate that these all have to be reapplied every few months or they start to fade. This is quite a painful process for her, of course. They figure out that she's like a siren with her voice; no one can resist when she cries and she always communicates what she wants, but when they can't hear her she can't control them, so they put a shock collar on her. Consequently she never learns to speak. 

They call her Amara, because it basically means “I’m sorry you were born.” They convince her that for the crime of existing and the danger she poses to the world, she deserves the way she is treated at their hands.

Shortly after Dean has the Mark of Cain removed, he is captured by the same coven of witches and tortured for information of some sort. They heal him every night when they are done with him so that they can go all out on him the next day. He is held in the dungeon of their conclave, and meets tiny, frightened Amara, who cannot speak and seems petrified of everyone, but in a “freeze up and accept punishment” kind of way. Naturally, this breaks Dean’s newly restored bleeding heart. 

He tries to talk to her, but she just looks terrified at first. He notices she’s shivering and dressed in dirty rags, with no shoes or socks, and tells her she can borrow his coat, if she wants—he is chained to the wall and can’t reach it, but it’s lying unattended. After a little encouragement, she scurries across the room—giving him a wide berth—and gingerly takes the coat down from the table it was thrown on. She wraps up in it and almost smiles. He hears the tiny contented sigh she makes deep down in her throat, and his heart shatters again, wondering when the last time was that someone was kind to her.

The next day, Dean is tortured again—and he hears her whimpering and the sound of machines whirring from the next room. He asks about her, and one of the wizards tells him it is an abomination, that they have to seal its power up with tattooed-on sigils every solstice and equinox, otherwise it would destroy the world. He says they call it Amara because it means “bitterness” or “sorrow,” literally, “I’m sorry that you were born.”

When the wizards heal Dean and lock up for the night, Amara creeps back in, skin red and face pale. Dean feels sick to his stomach, thinking about what this child has endured. He wonders what kind of creature she could be that could possibly begin to justify this sort of behavior. He usually has a good sense about people, and he doesn’t sense any particular evil coming off of her. He offers her his coat again, and she takes it, but then notices that he’s shivering, and tries to come close enough to give it to him instead. 

Dean of course refuses, and since she’s within arm’s reach, he gently eases the coat back around her shoulders. She immediately goes rigid, closing her eyes and biting her lip, expecting him to hurt her. Not wanting to startle her further, he doesn’t drop his hands like she burned him, but instead leaves one hand on her shoulder and gently takes her opposite hand with his own. 

He tells her softly that he’s not going to hurt her, and marvels at how freezing her hand is, rubbing it very lightly with his thumb. Her face slowly relaxes, and she opens her eyes to stare in wonder at her hand in his. After a few minutes he releases her, and she freezes for a moment before skittering away and settling down for the night—but she’s closer than she was last night.

Cut to Sam and Cas trying to rescue Dean, obviously.

The third day, the wizards get really nasty, and Dean is extremely sore despite the healing by the time night comes. Amara comes closer still, looking at him with what he thinks is concern. He comments on her name, and how he doesn’t like it—it sounds mean. He asks if he can give her a new name—a cooler name. What about “Anarchy?” That’s a really cool name—it means chaos and freedom. “Anny” for short. She nods. She keeps scooting closer by little and little, until he invites her over. She is so small that when she hesitantly sits down next to him, he can reach around her and in front of her to cup each of her icicle feet in one of his hands. Once again, that little sigh of contentedness twists at his heart. When was the last time this child was warm? She leans into him, and eventually curls up and goes to sleep in his arms. He has flashbacks of when Sam—when he was very, very young—would sneak into Dean’s bed if something went bump in the night. 

Cut to Sam and Cas again, getting close.

Dean resolves that when he escapes, he’s taking Anny with him. Whatever she is, she doesn’t deserve this. If she turns out to be dangerous later, then he’ll handle it. Day four of torture is the day they finally slip up—thinking he’s unconscious they go to transfer him from a table to a chair, and he lashes out and knocks them out before they can get a spell off. He steals their keys and runs around the corner to the alcove that basically serves as Anny’s bedroom. All she really has is a thin sleeping pad and a doll that she seems to have made out of wadded up rags. He tells her that they’re leaving—that he’s taking her away, and she panics, but he asks her to please, please trust him. She nods, still clearly terrified, and he sweeps her up into his arms, doll, jacket and all, and makes a run for it. 

They get as far as the garage before they are spotted and stopped, but by then Sam and Cas have found the place, they hear the scuffle and Dean swearing, and they swoop in to the rescue. Anny is petrified of the new people at first, but Dean insists that they’re his family, and they won’t hurt her either. Cas heals Dean’s injuries and then tries to heal Anny’s but even though she saw him heal Dean, she’s immediately petrified and shrinks away from his attempt to touch her. Dean tries to convince her that Cas isn’t going to hurt her, but she curls up into a little shaking ball and won’t uncurl until Cas has backed off.

They take her back to the bunker, and Dean sits in the back with Anny in his lap while Sam drives—a mark of how much he’s bonded with this weird child. Once they arrive, Sam figures out how to get the collar off

[elizabethrobertajones]

Comparing Season 6 and Season 10 - which one do you think makes more sense as a whole, which one better pulls of seeming like what happened/was revealed at the end of the season is what was supposed to happen/was planned all along?

I may be biased, but for me, season 6 by miles. And almost all of that is Edlund desperately cramming everything that had happened so far into something that either made sense or handwaved why it didn’t make sense in an effectively emotional enough episode that by the end of TMWWBK you sort of feel like you’ve actually got your answers and Cas has been completely honest and open with YOU at least, making it that much easier to handle what was going on. 

I think for me season 10 was poorly handled in ways that weren’t particularly well addressed and the only offered explanation ever was “oh it was Amara after all” which in the context of season 11 gives us some more characterisation to begin to pull things together, though without addressing everything. Still if we’re dealing with things as a whole, season 10 doesn’t have an episode that scrapes everything together in the post-Edlund era and what we get only within the confines of season 10 is extremely unsatisfactory, even if later canon eases it a little bit, along with just… not being actively in SPN season 10 as it airs :P 

Going off my memories of being in the fandom at the time, we had a lot of issues with things like 

Dean’s incomplete demon reversal (so far as in 10x02, written by Dabb who invented the cure repeating the correct steps, then in 10x03 Buckleming not following through with them)

“the river ends at the source” “never mind I was screwing with you”

Did Cain still have the Mark after 9x11? lasting drama until 10x14, and still debated afterwards especially by people who had thought he didn’t have the Mark and had passed it entirely to Dean now being very confused  

What the fuck was this about Lucifer having the Mark and how did that last minute addition affect everything? 

the Colette parallel being wildly mis-applied by fandom but also issues with the show’s fear to explore it leading to “we are all the colette” episodes with lasting drama until 10x22, where Charlie, Sam and Cas all variously and persistently seemed to be suggested to be capable of being a team effort to pull Dean out of the darkness. 10x22 also wasn’t enough to stop Dean, and the final confrontation was with Sam, I think a general consensus was - especially again with season 11′s help - that the memory of Mary drew him back/unleashed Amara metaphorically who unleashed Mary literally - it wasn’t a great note to end on without season 11 context (as a whole, so, like, a whole YEAR later) that Sam had “won” the battle to bring Dean back from himself where Cas had failed, and the subtext and show and fandom most of all had made SUCH a huge deal out of Colette, after 9x11 over-told her story instead of retelling Cain & Abel, that it was set up with the expectation that saving Dean was a romantic quest, not a brotherly one. 10x14 sort of helped set things to rights with the list, but the fighting about what it all meant at the time was AWFUL, and though I think I was right and the show bore that out and these days I type it all with confidence, I’m pretty sure there’s a ton of buried wank about it that could be dragged out if we want >.>

the fact there wasn’t really an overarcing Mark of Cain plot except “Dean is suffering” with the only 3 actual plot points they could do with it being demon!Dean, kill Cain, and remove Mark. Because of that, everything else is literally set-dressing to fill the time and add drama in between, but these were played with poorly and there wasn’t any subterfuge we weren’t in on (i.e. sam stealing the book) vs Cas betraying both the Winchesters and US. The only retcon offered in the end was Death’s exposition about the Darkness.

people literally forgetting which order episodes came out in and being very confused about why Amara wasn’t released when Dean was 14 in 10x12 even though he didn’t kill Cain for 2 more episodes (like, within weeks of 10x14 airing, I swear)

the understandable disappearance of Cole but bizarre application of that hunter called Rudy who popped up in his place and featured in 10x23 along with Cas for Dean’s guilt trip. Even if Cole and TAW sucked ass, it’s much easier to understand the emotional impact of what happened to Rudy if you assume he has the exact same backstory as Cole and the same nonsense happened to Dean twice in the same year :P 

Pre-season hype about Rowena made a huge deal out of the Grand Coven, and for a brief moment it seemed like there might be a witch plotline, including new lore dumps about different types of witches in 10x07, characters like Olivette the Hamster, etc, but they squandered her first season and 10x19 was as close as we got to any pay off to her actual storyline

Then Oskaar happened and that was like ??? Okay just introduce him in the second to last episode and throw us into that emotional situation 

the entire cure coming out of nowhere as a random last minute macguffin instead of having been anything they put together over the season - even though the book of the damned thing showed up in 10x11 it changed substantially from the clue Charlie left with (a less than 100 year old book with a library reference number found on an antique rare book website, based on a real book, which we all picked over and were left wondering if the plot was to be about some sort of occultism thing as a result) to a much different lore. Then there were a few episodes dealing with it and the codex, the actual spell had no real struggle, and Crowley delivered all the pieces while Cas stood around scowling and Rowena stood around in chains eye-rolling. Compare season 13′s pacing with Sam and Dean cobbling together what they needed from halfway through the season, and being on the mission to get to the AU from episode 9, with relatively little of the endless sitting around googling and being frustrated of past seasons but ESPECIALLY season 10 where Sam was futilely trawling the results of googling “mark of cain” from mid-late season 9 through to like, 10x18 when an actual brief plot appeared around it directly. 

I think all of it points to a problem of working forwards from where they were instead of backwards to tidy up what was left. In season 6 Edlund took as many loose plot threads, from how Sam lost his soul, what was up with Crowley and Cas, the angel war, explanations for Sam and Samuel working together, why eve happened, everything, and put it all together to explain the elements of the season so far in a new light. Despite how disastrous that season was, PRETENDING you knew like you meant to do it all along glosses over inconsistencies in Samuel’s story or Cas and Crowley’s 6x10 interactions, and makes them relatively inconsequential when most of the details add up. 

The same thing works with the Lucifer as Sam’s vessel storyline, in the sense that while Azazel’s plan is fucking ridiculous in its over-complex bizarre attempt to find a worthy true vessel that Heaven had fated, comparing season 1-2 to season 5 head on is bad, each season explains itself from the last in enough of a way and with enough knowledge of what already happened that really despite vast inconsistencies in the lore, by 5x22 we are pretty much all on board to accept the way it all played out because they use what was previously written to build up Sam’s arc, and little details thrown in towards the end like Brady and then Lucifer revealing ALL of Sam’s closer rando peeps had been demons, tidy up more and more loose ends and there’s left with plausible deniability about a lot of the issues.

In season 10 they kept on introducing elements instead of working with what they had already established, and also discarded what seemed like major plot hooks for Rowena and Cole, one annoyingly, one completely metatextually understandably and fuck TAW, I’m glad the show never brought Cole back as soon as rumours of him groping fans appeared, and it makes me genuinely trust that the SPN set is a safe place. But yeah. 

Things they set up and could have worked with, were the Cas’s grace arc, which was resolved to a small personal satisfaction to Cas without any major plot impact except we could stop worrying about when Cas would get sick and die from bad grace, or steal more. 

The demon!Dean issue was bad writing from Buckleming re: was he still a demon or not, but given Dean was supposed to be struggling with succumbing to darkness the season actually kept him almost completely level without any significant relapses, even after killing Cain. The sense of needing a functional Dean Winchester to keep hunting monsters and prop up the show as both the carrier of the mytharc, the emotional core, and the go-between between Sam and Cas even when the show was trying to figure out if Sam and Cas could function without Dean, it was all still so much about Dean that in 10x21 when they’re doing the cringeworthy “for Dean” thing and Rowena rolls her eyes like “I barely know the man”, I was actually applauding Buckleming snark thinking they maybe briefly had a handle on how ridiculous Dean’s position in the narrative was. (Listen, this was the last 10 minutes of my innocence about how awful Buckleming could be, leave past!me alone. She’s sweet and precious and not bitter :P) In any case, a more effective season would have utilised him more to slip and slide between light and dark and explore it in much deeper detail, but balancing that with a procedural formula doesn’t work as well and they were lacking enough philosophers on staff. I think the Dabb era writing team could handle it, because Yockey, Perez, and Glynn especially, who seems to have a psychology background based on her writing, all have a sharp attention to the exact things in emotional arcs that would have made it work better, even just as it was. Since this was a weaker writing team where Robbie, Bobo and Dabb episodes were little islands of excellence and the motw were fun but more shallow even with strong foreshadowing themes, it just didn’t pay off. 

I think the biggest waste of time was “the river ends at the source” which was either Buckleming trying to introduce a concept and hoping someone else dealt with it, or an agreed plot hook which never materialised, or Metatron literally spoke the truth, that the line had only ever been written to mess with us. However 10x23 could have actually included more of a “river ends at the source” sort of slant and had Death confirm it in so many words because Amara really did sort of seem to be the answer to the question. In 10x10 it seemed like they knew where the season was going, but by 10x17 it was obvious they DIDN’T, and it was during 10x18 that the plot actually got hashed out and Robbie was handed heavy revisions to make to change the Stynes to end of season villains and the Book of the Damned was going to be used how it was. I think this is really weak plotting, as someone who always puts in fun lines and then attempts like crazy to pay off on them. My first novel has the line “you can’t talk to me yet” and I play through that the whole book until they CAN talk and make it a major motif, goal and in the end try to explain it as best I can about how it’s all plot relevant and why using that for tension to put off the explanations and such was a valid thing to throw at my main character, and then the springboard to more adventure when she was ready for it. I literally do not understand putting a portentous line into your story, and not becoming desperately eager to answer it or twist something into revealing how it all fits at the end, if not basing your entire story off of it. Sam and Dean seemed wildly uncurious about how to apply that or what it means. 

In season 6 one of the more frustrating things is the “it’s all about the souls” line because Dean fails to investigate until someone or other rolls their eyes and makes it all clear to him. But we get a few more reminders in Cas’s presence, until we find out his plan, and Crowley repeats that line in 6x20 when making his sales pitch to Cas, if I’m remembering rightly (I hope so :/) and so despite Dean’s infuriating lack of investigation (not that he had a great deal of leads, but still - you could build a plot around it by GIVING him a lead, he’s the fictional character and you’re the writer :P) at the very least they repeat the motif in at least 6x17 and 6x20 to my memory, before the souls thing becomes a lot more obvious about Cas taking the purgatory souls and we’re allowed to actually discuss what he’s up to instead of the vague hints Atropos and Rachel give that they know his plans. 6x07 also hints early on that Purgatory is full of monster souls if you add it all up - the writers knew they were doing SOMETHING with this even if it took to the end of the season for it to all come together. (And that’s something that’s clearly and overarcing plot that Gamble oversaw because she wrote 6x11 and the line then appears in multiple episodes around the place, so that’s not just something Edlund tidied up but an actual effort to write the season well.)

Throwing aside the “river ends at the source” line is wildly frustrating because it wouldn’t have been too hard to apply it thematically and even keep Metatron being a douche while giving the viewer a pay off anyway for our own satisfaction, by showing it had been a theme all along anyway. You CAN squint at season 10 and analyse it through that lens but it’s exhausting when the show doesn’t give us the themes on a platter. It also shows that the plotting is careless and they’re experimenting, and rather than working with what they have, this is in a path of episodes where they’re discarding some plotlines, and we’re beginning to have end of season plotlines hastily pasted onto the end of the season, but they make very little of any of the work already done to build up the season as we’d seen it so far.

Add onto that Charlie being murdered for manpain to motivate some things into action and all the random elements being used, and the sense that Crowley, Cas and Rowena all abruptly ran out of a plotline that had been intended to utilise them and put on a side character duty away from Sam and Dean, the season is extremely messily and carelessly written, and without any real attention to detail to its own themes and characters and plotlines. Even if they’d gone into the season not particularly expecting where to go, they brought a lot to the table early on but then quickly wiped a lot of it off, and brought a lot more stuff to the table instead, which makes season 10 a really wonky, unfinished feeling product as a thing on its own, and the overall story is scrappy and carelessly plotted.

And that is speaking just about the easy plot stuff without getting into the absolute mess of speculation from the Destiel side of fandom wondering wtf was going on with the seeming build up to crypt scenes, colette, the grace cure, etc, that made up the bulk of the speculation but makes actually analysing expectations vs presented product completely impossible to evaluate on that side of things because as always Destiel speculation really overshoots what is expected and was really running wild at that point. I mean, not being judgemental because that was the year I was right in the thick of it. 3 years clear of it now, some of it seems really silly, but those 3 things all seemed clearly built up to our eyes, and we got the reverse crypt scene we’d been expecting since before the season started, and we got the Colette reference which slotted Cas firmly into place as a reminder of how Cain’s peeps lined up against Dean’s, as well as Cas asking Dean to stop, which satisfied the terms and conditions of Dean resisting walking in Cain’s footsteps with the overall set up of the scene. With the way Cas got his grace back and then some other rando cure popped up where Rowena of all people made the sacrifice, I really can’t help feeling like the conspiracy theorist who knows they were right but with the way it all shook out, only people who knew the conspiracy would understand how it didn’t happen and it’s very hard for me to look at that and say that some non-Cas-related cure was coming all along, given the conspicuous dropping of one plotline sort of day of picking up the next >.> But I’ll cede that from my position I might be a bit compromised on that one. 

Anyways. To me season 10 is a disaster that only season 11 really justifies, while season 6 has some truly low points but in the end the actual writing skill hauls it through so that it creates the illusion that there was consistency, if you ignore everything outside of the text suggesting it may have been as poorly planned as season 10. Planning isn’t everything - it’s what you do when confronted with the unplanned wire tangle in front of you that really marks how well they were written, and just shoving it under the table and putting a new wire tangle down vs actually unpicking it and making them as neat as possible? Gamble slam dunks Carver :P

[jupitermelichios]

this shot is making me want a ST/SPN crossover so bad, it's just a quintissentially supernatural shot, you know?

There's kind of three ways I can see that you could come at it, and I'm not going to write any of them but they're all fun to think about so here you go;

We move Sam & Dean's births back about 10 years, and John moves the family to Hawkins in the summer of '83, when Dean is 14 and Sam 10, and leaves the kids alone while he's off on a hunt. But what he doesn't know is that Papa has been (unbeknownst to him) collecting old Yellow Eyes's pet kids from the beginning, opening doorways to Limbo, and Azazel decides having Sam and Eleven in the same place is the perfect opportunity to nudge events a little, make it clear why messing with a demon's pet project is a very very bad idea.

We move the SPN boys back an entire generation, so Dean was now born when John was in the main continuity, and they roll into town in 87, chasing what they think is some kind of spirit, maybe witches, because none of the reports coming out of Hawkins make any sense, but they sure as hell sound like something needs killing. Cue the Winchesters trying to investigate and getting symied at every pass by a bunch of freshmen who definitely know more than they're letting on but just complain about their hair getting wet when Dean contrives to dump holy water on them. This has two branching pathways, either a) the brothers find out about the Upside Down but also realise there's not much they can do about it and leave, or b) Dustin works out they're ghost hunters so the kids set up a fake ghost for the Winchesters to hunt to keep them from seeing anything they shouldn't, or c) both at once.

We don't move anyone back in time, and Steve is an adult with a job and a flat but he never really lost that hypervigillance, so of course when something supernatural starts attacking people in his neighbourhood he notices, and of course he goes after it, and Sam and Dean are so fucking confused by this weirdo who apparently knows absolutely nothing about the Supernatural but doesn't even blink at the sight of a dead body, and tries to kill the feral vampire with a goddamned baseball bat full of nails and honestly does a pretty okay job of it as well, and even more confused when he responds to the news that he's only caught one of the nest by calling his family, who turn out to all be equally normal and equally middle aged and equally chill with the idea of beating something that looks human to death with their bare hands, and do it as a team like this is something they have experience with, even though none of them even recognise the vampires as vampires until Steve tells them. They just show up armed and ask what needs to be killed and refuse to take no for an answer when Dean tells them to leave it to the professionals. After they clear out the nest, Lucas bakes them a fucking cake to say thank you, and neither of the Winchesters have any fucking idea what's going on, but it's a pretty good cake.

Anyway if any of you want to try writing these, absolutely feel free, I have neither the time nor the inclination, but they were fun to think about!

this shot is so fucking slay like yeah give me a spin-off pls ty

[soulwounds-a]

RELATIONSHIP / CONNECTIONS  CALL  !      /     because  everyone  else  seems  on  this  band  wagon  so  i  thought ,  hey ,  why  not !     i  could  always  use  more  stuff  for  all  my  characters !    just  hit  that  like  or  comment  or  just  IM  me  if  you’re  interested  in  anything !

LINK     :     22 ,  human  (  prev .  hylian  ) ,  male ,  asexual .

ROMANTIC  RELATIONSHIP  /  OPEN      :      while  i  am  partial  to  some  loz  ships  (  particularly  link/zelda  but  also  link/midna  &  link/malon  )   &  would  lean  towards  those  if  we  got  those  characters ,  i’m  also  not  against  simply  shipping  link  with  someone  he  meets  here  if  there’s  good  chemistry !     he’s  ace ,  sexuality  wise ,  but  for  sure  demi  romantic .   he  can  fall  hard  for  people  he  gets  close  to ,  male  or  female ,  he’ll  get  some  massive  heart  eyes .   plus ,  he’ll  defend  you  on  pain  of  death  always  if  he  has  to . PLATONIC  RELATIONSHIPS  /  OPEN      :      link  is  literally  the  softest  boy   &   deserves  all  the  friends  i  beg  of  you !    he’s  extremely  kind   &   very  easy  to  befriend .   literally  if  you’re  just  nice  to  him  he’ll  consider  you  a  friend  after  like  5  seconds   &  would  fight  god  with  a  stick  for  you  if  you  asked .

ROWENA  MACLEOD    :    300+   (  appears  roughly  40  ) ,  witch ,  female ,  pansexual .    (  @evliskank  )

 ROMANTIC  RELATIONSHIP  /  OPEN      :      open ,  yes ,  but  rowena  is  far  more  for  playful  flirting   &   meaningless  flings .    this  doesn’t  mean  i’m  against  a  serious  relationship  for  her  completely !    especially  after  this  event  as  rowena  will  be  losing  memory  of  most  of  her  life  including  when  the  man  who  would  be  crowley’s  father  broke  her  heart   &   caused  her  view  of  love  as  weakness .    so ,  she  won’t  despise  the  thought  of  being  in  love .   however ,  as  her  memories  slowly  come  back  she’ll  become  more  callous  towards  it . PLATONIC  RELATIONSHIPS  /  OPEN      :      want  a  powerful  witch  friend  to  gossip  with ?   say  no  more .    rowena  isn’t  easy  to  befriend ,  however ,  but  it’s  not  impossible .   if  you’re  interested ,  we’ll  work  something  out ! ENEMIES  /  OPEN      :      rowena  makes  a  lot  more  unfriendly  relationships  than  she  does  friends .    if  you  guys  want  a  rivalry  that’d  be  awesome !    plus ,  we  can  even  look  into  a  frienemies  kinda  deal  if  you’re  into  that ,  too .

JESSE  TURNER    :    20 ,  cambion  (  half  human ,  half  demon  )  +  the  antichrist ,  male ,  homosexual .   (  @anitchrist  )

ROMANTIC  RELATIONSHIP  /  CLOSED      :      sorry ,  boys ,  the  antichrist  is  taken !    or  he  will  be .    loey  &   i  have  a  plotted  ship  to  come  for  jesse   &   jack  kline . PLATONIC  RELATIONSHIPS  /  OPEN      :      jesse  is  pissy ,  emo ,  sarcastic ,  &  a  down  right  loner   . . .   please ,  force  friendship  on  him .   i’m  especially  here  for  him  being  befriended  by  someone  who’s  all  sunshine  &  rainbows !    that  dynamic  would  be  great .     plus ,  who  doesn’t  wanna  be  friends  with  the  antichrist ,  am  i  right ? ENEMIES  /  OPEN      :      it’s  not  like  he  means  to  make  a  lot ,  but  jesse  can  be  off  putting  to  some  people .    particularly  this  is  open  to  anyone  who  plays  demons .    jesse ,  though  half  demon ,  hates  demonkind   &   thinks  them  pathetic   &   obnoxious .     he  wants  them  to  leave  him  alone .

THE  COLT    :    183  (  appears  roughly  early  30s  ) ,  human  (  humanized  gun  ) ,  male ,  pansexual .   (  @dustsanything  )

 ROMANTIC  RELATIONSHIP  /  OPEN      :      he’s  still  learning  about  being  human   &   feelings  like  this  but  i’d  be  very  entertained  to  see  him  in  a  relationship  tbh .     if  you  like  cowboys  who  used  to  be  literal  guns   &   have  a  slight  god  complex  then  i’ve  got  good  news !  PLATONIC  RELATIONSHIPS  /  OPEN      :      him   &   friends  he  makes  are  usually  amusing .   not  much  to  say  on  it  . . .  but  also  if  your  character  wants  some  protection  i’d  recommend  him .   he  doesn’t  play  games  in  defending  people  he  likes ,  usually ,  &  he’s  the  most  powerful  gun  in  the  world .   he’s  good  to  have  on  your  side .  ENEMIES  /  OPEN      :      probably  mostly  for  supernatural  creatures ,  seeing  as  he’s  sometimes  salty  towards  them ,  &  he’s  whats  made  to  kill  them .   plus ,  he’s  a  hitman  it’s  his  job !   he’s  bound  to  have  made  some  enemies .

AZAZEL    :    10,000+  (  appears  around  50s  ) ,  demon  (  prince  of  hell  ) ,  male ,  pansexual .   (  @yellweyes  )

 ROMANTIC  RELATIONSHIP  /  OPEN      :      uh  . . .   i  mean  i  guess  if  you’re  into  . . .  horrible  asshole  demons .    don’t  expect  anything  super  healthy  though .  PLATONIC  RELATIONSHIPS  /  OPEN      :      there  are  people  who  will  amuse  him   &   he’ll  choose  to  spend  time  around  them  for  that .   doesn’t  mean  he  cares  much  or  he’ll  do  much  for  you   . . .   but  he  likes  having  friends  for  entertainment .  ENEMIES  /  OPEN      :      look  he’s  terrible  he’ll  make  enemies  with  everyone .

OBI-WAN  “BEN”  KENOBI    :    40 ,  human  (  force  sensitive  ) ,  male ,  asexual .     (  @jedirelic  )

 ROMANTIC  RELATIONSHIP  /  OPEN      :      it’s  gonna  be  hard  for  him .    especially  seeing  as  he’s  A.  ace  as  hell   &   B.  has  the  jedi  code  still  very  imprinted  in  his  lifestyle .   plus  he’s  just  mega  depressed  from  a  lot   . . .   i  will  say ,  though ,  he  can  playfully  flirt  like  no  one’s  business .    there’s  not  much  meaning  ever  behind  it ,  but  he  thinks  flirting  is  fun .    he’s  a  master  at  flirting  but  has  the  romance  skill  of  a  bent  spoon .  PLATONIC  RELATIONSHIPS  /  OPEN      :      god  he’s  so  sad  he  needs  friends  again .   all  his  friends  are  dead  please  befriend  him  he’s  so  so  kind  he’s  just  tired  bc  the  world  hurt  him .

CAPTAIN  JAMES  KIRK    :    27 ,  human ,  male ,  bisexual .   (  @flvbov  )

 ROMANTIC  RELATIONSHIP  /  OPEN-ISH      :      i  say  ish  because  i’m   . . .   i’ve  been  playin  lowkey  but  tbh  spirk  is  everything  to  me   &   i’d  die  if  we  got  a  spock .    but  like  i’ll  think  about  it   . . .   he’ll  flirt  too  he’s  flirty .    so  flings  are  for  sure  something  we  can  talk  about  or  friends  with  benefits .  PLATONIC  RELATIONSHIPS  /  OPEN      :      he’s  SUCH  a  good  friend   &   he  loves  just  having  fun  honestly ?    he’s  very  interested  in  this  place  as  it  is  200  years  in  the  past  for  him .   he’s  excitable   &   fun .   kinda  like  a  puppy .

MERLIN    :    1,500+  (  appears  mid - late  twenties  ) ,  sorcerer ,  male ,  bisexual .   (  @magicitslf  )

 ROMANTIC  RELATIONSHIP  /  CLOSED      :      if  yall  don’t  think  him   &   arthur  are  endgame  as  all  get  out  then  i’ve  news  for  you .    merlin  can  be  flirty ,  though !    he  can  be  a  saucy  minx .    i  mean  just  watch  the  show  he’s  a  dumbass  but  i’m  pretty  sure  every  character  on  that  show  was  at  least  a  little  in  love  w/  merlin . PLATONIC  RELATIONSHIPS  /  OPEN      :      be  the  sweet  magic  boy’s  friend .    if  you’re  earth ,  you’ve  probably  heard  of  merlin  as  arthurian  legend  is  big  too .    also ,  this  goes  heavy  for  anyone  with  magic .   looking  at  you ,  hp  characters !    there’s  also  not  a  lot  he  wouldn’t  do  for  his  friends .    OH  ALSO  WITH  ANYONE  WHO  HAS  A  MUSE  THAT’S  A  PERSONIFIED  DRAGON !    bc  ik  there  are  some  got  dragons  around .    merlin  is  a  dragon  lord ,  basically  he’s  able  to  speak  in  the  dragon  tongue   &   can  command  dragons  when  he  does   &   the  cant  disobey  him .   he  loves  them .     ENEMIES  /  OPEN      :      are  you  someone  who  uses  magic  for  ill  will ?   guess  what !    merlin  isn’t  going  to  like  you .    he’s  also  got  strong  opinions   &   a  big  mouth  so  if  he  doesn’t  like  something  you’re  doing  you’ll  know .

HENRY  JEKYLL  /  EDWARD  HYDE    :    37 ,  human ,  male ,  heterosexual  but  this  could  change  idk .   (  @viceindulged  )

 ROMANTIC  RELATIONSHIPS  /  OPEN      :      he’s  married  to  science  but  he’s  also  a  sweet  man   . . .   well .   henry  is  nice .    scratch  that ,  he’s  kind  of  an  absolute  disaster  of  a  human  being  but  he’s  trying  his  best .   &   then  there’s  hyde  his  counterpart  who  is    . . .   just  plain  terrible .   for  sure  a  ship  with  him  would  be  angsty  as  all  get  out .    he’s  a  bit  terrified  of  loving  people ,  what  with  hyde  coming  out  on  his  own  now .  PLATONIC  RELATIONSHIPS  /  OPEN      :      he  needs  some  friends  to  support  him .   there’s  also  a  million   &   ten  plots  we  can  draw  up  for  them  discovering  about  hyde  &   trying  to  help  him  through  this  because  it’s  driving  him  insane  almost   &   tearing  him  apart .    he  just  really  needs  some  support .    also  if  y’all  have  any  sadistic  muses !   you  can  also  be  friends  with  hyde ! ENEMIES  /  OPEN      :      when  i  say  enemies  i  mean  people  who  meet  hyde  before  meeting  jekyll .    jekyll’s  nice ,  doesn’t  make  a  lot  of  people’s  bad  lists ,  but  hyde  is  horrid .   people  who  meet  hyde  can  hate  him   &   then  it  leads  for  a  ton  of  confusion  when  meeting  poor  jekyll  later   &   it  has  him  deal  with  the  repercussions  as  he’s  always  cleaning  up  hyde’s  messes .    enemies  also  work  for  people  who  end  up  befriending  hyde  also  being  enemies  to  jekyll .    most  people  who  are  an  enemy  of  one  will  be  friend  to  another .    there’s  also  the  idea  that  someone  thinks  he’s  just  unstable   &   unsafe  so  he  needs  to  go  altogether .

[sentimental-bottlesnake]

I told myself I wasn’t gonna breed Astra until I had written this part of her lore. And, well, I finally finished it and god... I feel so gross. Fuck fuck fuck. I’m sorry you gotta go through this my sweet Astra.

On the plus side, Astra and Azazel produced some cute af TWIN GIRLS. Idk how they managed to get that since their range isn’t that small. I plan on writing lore for them as well but for now they’re just 150g. Once they have lore they’ll be more expensive.

Goldenrod/sunset/sunset 127.5k bought

Goldenrod/sunset/sunset 150g bought

If you wanna read how these two came about the story is under the cut. Make sure you read the warning

This story contains a non-graphic rape scene and a very creepy and abusive older man coming onto a woman who’s much younger than him. 

If any of that is bad feeling or triggering do not read this. This is not supposed to be romantic in any way, I’m just telling a story and part of my lore is dark and horrible like this around the warren dragons and doesn’t reflect the rest of my clan or lore, just a few dragons involved.

Also all my dragons are human shaped unless stated otherwise

Now here’s the story.

A Nightmare

Savathün had a sizable library in the warren for the space that the place was. It was mostly full of books that were incomprehensible to nearly everyone written in the languages of the Second Age but some were written in the draconic tongue for dragon use. Astra wasn’t looking for any book in particular. She was just looking for something interesting. Her tutelage was done for the day and Aten was busy so there was nothing to entertain her. She certainly didn’t want to interact with Slaughter or Abbadon either. So she’d gone looking for something to read.

Astra looked out of the corner of her eye behind her when she heard someone else come into the library. She didn’t look at them. You couldn’t acknowledge the things in the warren you saw out of the corner of your eye. It’d be the end of you. She went back to looking for something to read when it didn’t seem to be one of the louder and more aggressive things. She was aware of it as it glided across the room to stand behind her. It was tall and dark and she only looked at it from the corner of her eye.

“Hello, Astra,” Azazel said. Not a warren creature. Worse.

“Azazel, what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked, she didn’t look at him either.

“Oh, I was just around,” he said in his dark, charming, voice and gently brushed the knuckles of his hand across her back.

“Yes, unfortunately,” she said, not reacting to him.

“You know, Astra, it doesn’t have to be this way. I really hoped it wouldn’t be.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said and kept her eyes on the spines of the books in front of her.

“I know,” was all he said.

She turned and looked at him curiously, “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” she asked him.

He leered down at her with his sun-like eyes. It was  really such a shame he was so handsome. Perfect curly black hair from which elegant antlers sprouted and forked several times and a well manicured mustache that he curled against his cheeks. “I know what you don’t want Savathün to know. Why there are no lights in your room.” He reached up to touch her face but she leaned back out of his reach. “No one else has to know. Even if it is rude to do such things under the roof of the witch caring for you like Savathün.”

“What do you want?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “You wouldn’t tell me this if you didn’t want something.”

“Oh, not much,” he said and she highly doubted that. “Just give to me what you give to him.”

She stared up at him. “You’re disgusting,” she said. She was also angry she’d been right. No-one who existed in the same circle as her mistress and her mate would be kind or simple.

“Heh, only because you’re a whore,” he said candidly. “Savathün told me you were… hmm, better than that. I was promised something undelivered so I make due I suppose.”

“I was never promised to anything you disgusting slime,” she hissed.

“Not that you knew. If you don’t want me to tell Savathün who you’ve been opening your legs to I’ll overlook this.”

“I just have to do it for you,” she growled.

“I think it’s too much of a problem for you since you have no morals or standards anyway,” he said and this time did manage to stroke her jaw with his thumb.

She slapped his hand away. The absolute gaul of him. To presume so much. “And if I don’t?” she snarled. “What if I decide to just pluck out your eyes and rip out your tongue instead?”

“She’ll know anyway. I gave her a package already that if things don’t… mmm, turn out as we plan that she’s to open it. It has the information within. I know she won’t be pleased with the contents. Such a betrayal against her won’t end well for either of you,” his lips curled to the side in a slight smirk. His brilliantly yellow eyes with the white pupil were so self satisfied and she hated him.

“You’re vile,” she hissed.

“Sticks and stones, my dear. Now what is your answer? Hmm? Either way I will get what I want with or without your consent.” She spit on him. That made him angry and his Light eyes narrowed and he shoved her against the bookshelf, his hand around her throat. She grabbed his arm. “Don’t be stupid, you fool of a girl,” he growled and she watched as something dark curled across his eyes, slipping into his irises like tendrils of Shade. “I don’t really wish to harm you but I will if you keep resisting and you will not enjoy it.”

“I never expected to do so with you,” she said. He had her by the throat but not so firmly she couldn’t speak. “I bet your dick is little too.”

He glowered at her. “Make the easy choice,” he said. “I won’t even bother you otherwise.”

“Your existence bothers me, Azazel,” she hissed.

His hand squeezed her throat and she cried out as he started to crush her wind pipe. He released her and she crumpled to a miserable heap at his feet. She rubbed her throat whimpering. “Are you going to make the easy choice now?” he asked her.

“Get thrown into the Fortress of Ends,” she coughed.

Azazel sighed. “So difficult,” he muttered.

“You want to have sex with me, asshole. I refuse,” she did her best to snarl. He throat still hurt.

He sighed again like Astra was inconveniencing him. “If that’s what you want them I’ll just… take what I need and tell Savathün too. Or maybe I’ll just take matters into my own claws, hmm?” He grabbed her chin unkindly and made her look up at him. She glared at him with all the heat she could muster. “I’m not afraid of what Oryx would do and I’m sure they’d bleed so well.”

“Don’t you touch him,” Astra growled.

“Than be a little more accommodating girl,” Azazel said, yellow eyes narrowed.

She glared up at him. She hated him. So much. She hadn’t liked him the moment she’d laid eye on him and now she hated him even more. But she couldn’t let Azazel hurt her beloved and she couldn’t let him tell Savathün either. She’d be furious. The betrayal was unforgivable. Astra knew that. She didn’t want to go through with what he wanted but it was that or the one she cared for would be in danger and she knew Azazel was dangerous. More dangerous than she anticipated.

Astra pushed his hand off of her and stood up. She reached behind and unclasped her dress. His perfectly manicured brows rose slowly as her dress fell off her shoulders and pooled down around her feet. “Fine, you disgusting worm,” she said standing nearly naked in front of him. “But do not fucking touch me,” she slapped his wandering hand away from her body. His smile was slimey and horrible and she couldn’t wait until she could figure out a way to rip his throat out. She remembered Aten had said that. That he didn’t like Azazel because he looked at her like she was nothing.

“No need to be so feisty, girl,” Azazel sneered and picked her up under the thighs, pressing her against the bookshelf. Astra just glared at him and kept up the hateful eye contact even as he defiled her. She didn’t cry or make a single noise. She knew that that would just make it better for him for her to resist or to beg him to stop. She just glared death at him and any time he tried to touch her with his hands or mouth she’d slap him. That just amused him but also didn’t deter him.

When the vile Imperial was finally done he gently set her down. She shoved him away from her. “There, are you satisfied now you horrible asshole?” she demanded.

“Mmmm, that remains to be seen,” he said, so pleasant and horrible like he hadn’t just raped her several times. He crowded her space again and she put her hands on his chest to push him away. “Pray I get what I want the first time so I don’t have to bother you the next time your body is in the mood for children.” Astra felt all the blood drain out of her face. What? No! She immediately wanted to scream at him and smash his handsome face into a bloody mess but she felt frozen. She stared at him, almost confused about what he’d just told her. He leaned over and ever so gently kissed her on the cheek before leaving her standing there, naked in Savathün’s library.

It didn’t take long for her to be found. “There you are, I’ve been- Astra, put on some clothes,” it was Aten.

She looked at her brother. “Aten,” she said softly.

“Yes? What’s the matter?” he asked even as he took off his cloak to wrap it around her to hide her nakedness.

She suddenly felt a violent rage well up inside of her. That disgusting man! That vile, putrid, horrible, smarmy, self entitled, shit for a face! Giving her body away was something she could almost get over. She’d do it to protect her beloved. But to know that Azazel had chosen this exact moment because she was finally of age for children? She seethed in fury. “I’m going to pull Azazel’s spine out through his mouth,” she hissed.

“What? What did he do?”

“He raped me,” she said.

She watched murder come into her brother’s eyes. “You can’t do that Astra, because I’m going to get to him first.”

“No,” she grabbed his arm before he could leave. “He has something over me,” she said. Aten just looked confused. “I let him.”

“What? Why would you do that?”

“I told you. He has something over me. I need to make sure it won’t come to light before he dies.”

Aten nodded slowly. “You sure? I could just go do it now-

“Aten,” she snapped, “He made me a fool and a weakling and I want him to know I won when he realizes he’s dying.”

Aten frowned but nodded slowly. “You’re not hurt?”

“I’m too furious to be hurt,” she leaned down and pulled her dress up, so angry she just used magic to angrily snap the clasps on the back into place. “Do not go near him. Understand me? I want to dismantle him before killing him for what he’s done.”

“I don’t agree but I will do so,” he said his jaw tight.

“Good. Thank you,” her voice softened a little. “Now I’m going to go wash him out of me and pray it didn’t take.” She left before she could see the look on his face. She didn’t need to see it. She knew Aten well enough. She wasn’t surprised when she closed the door and she heard a great windstorm lash about the library, toppling books off shelves, upending the furniture, and making a big mess of the entire place. She took a deep, sad, breath and went to the bathing pool knowing that Aten’s momentary rage would also occupy him for a while as he picked up the mess he’d made until she could come back and make sure he didn’t just return to his birth shape and swallow Azazel whole.

[swordandcat]

A Knight’s Duty

(AO3 Link)

“It’s my duty to serve the kingdom.” Yo says, quietly.

“Even if you die?” Yohane asks offhandedly.

“To the death.” Yo answers, deadly serious.

YouHane! Fantasy AU: Yohane is a Witch, and Yo is a Royal Knight.

Warning: Non-graphic loss of limb involved in the story

((Alt Title: Yohane tries to stop Yo from overworking to the death))

Watanabe Yo. Royal knight, first class. Her duty is to the people of the kingdom of Ura, defending the populace from any and all threats, be it foreign invaders or supernatural dangers. The burden is great, but her shield is strong. The enemies are numerous, but her sword is sharp.

Today, she continues to tirelessly carry out her duty.

“Shit… this is pretty bad, huh…”

Yo murmurs, as she hobbles through the quickly darkening forest. Her entire body feels like it’s been passed through a grinder, and there’s not much left of her plate armor, leaving her with only a thin bloodstained tunic covering her body.

It was supposed to be a straightforward quest, investigating reports of a monstrous lizard plaguing the northern trade routes. When Yo got there, however, what they found wasn’t a simple giant lizard, but a Basilisk - the king of serpents, cursed with a magical gaze that turns its victims to stone.

After a vicious battle, the basilisk’s head now sits in a bag at Yo’s side. But Yo’s armaments are in tatters, her sword is broken in half, and Chika has fallen victim to the creature’s gaze. Even now, carrying her on her back, Yo can feel Chika’s rigid body pressing down on her, a reminder of Yo’s failure.

Even if Chika volunteered to go on the trip with her, even if she’s Yo’s squire, she’s still a citizen of Ura, someone Yo is duty-bound to protect. And Yo allowed Chika to get hurt.

“I’m sorry… I messed up…”

Yo knows Chika can’t respond - she’s still alive, but from what Yo can gather, it’s as though her entire body has stopped. She still breathes, and her heart still beats, but she can’t move any other muscle in her body, frozen like a statue: the legendary petrification of the basilisk.

“I can still walk, so I’ll fix this, somehow…”

But even if Yo can walk, the situation is looking dire. She’s unarmed and weakened, and Chika’s incapacitated. The nearest township is at least a day’s walk away. To make things worse, night is falling quickly, and the temperature will plummet at night. Not to mention the wolves and other beasts that come out at night. She’s already been carrying Chika for most of the day, and between exhaustion and her injuries, she’s nearing her limit for physical exertion. She’s felt her consciousness slip a few times already, and she’s only sustaining herself with a determination to keep Chika safe.

…She needs to find shelter, and fast. Otherwise they’re just sitting ducks for nighttime predators.

“I’m gonna try and find shelter for the night, okay?”

Adjusting her posture slightly so Chika’s secure, Yo continues to march on, keeping an eye out for any caves or outcroppings they can take shelter under.

For once, though, luck seems to be on Yo’s side, as she soon spots the entrance to a cave in the distance. Looking around to make sure there aren’t animal tracks that signify the cave is already occupied, Yo breathes out a sigh of relief at the lucky break, and goes into the cave. She doesn’t have a flint or anything to start a fire, but having cover from wind and possible rain is plenty enough.

She offloads Chika from her back, lying her on the floor in what’s hopefully a comfortable pile of dried leaves she foraged outside. She tries to get up again, to look for kindling for a fire, but as soon as she gets up her head starts to spin, and she falls against the cave wall, her vision darkening. She tries to steady herself, but a wave of nausea assaults her, and she stumbles, falling to her knees.

“Ah, crap…”

She shakes her head, trying to clear it. At this rate she won’t be able to protect Chika… if she passes out now, it’ll be all over…!

“Um… excuse me?”

She looks up sharply, even if her vision is still spotty and blurry. A cloaked figure is standing at the entrance of the cave - since when did they appear? Yo didn’t notice them at all. She sounds female - and if Yo tries really hard she can see the figure has long hair.

“What are you doing in front of my house?”

Her… house? Yo tries to formulate a response, to explain what had happened. She opens her mouth, but the nausea comes back with a vengeance, and she gags, almost throwing up instead. The woman sighs, and crouches down next to Yo, reaching beneath her cloak and pulling out a glass vial. She pops the top, and passes it to Yo.

“Whatever. Drink - and follow me. Bring your friend, too.”

Yo wants to protest that she can barely even stand up anymore, but as she gulps down the viscous contents of the vial, she suddenly feels her exhaustion evaporate, the pain and tiredness bleeding out of her body, replaced by a surge of strength and vigor.

“What… I feel… better?” Yo murmurs, confused.

“That doesn’t actually heal you, though, it just makes your body _think _it’s healed.” The woman says, heading deeper into the cave. “So hurry up - your friend there doesn’t have forever.”

Yo glances at Chika, and sighs. For now, she’ll trust this woman.

It gets darker and darker as they walk deeper into the cave, and soon Yo can barely see anything at all, just the barest outlines of the woman in front of her. She’s about to ask if she has a torch when the woman stops abruptly, startling Yo.

“Back up a bit,” the woman says offhandedly, and Yo obliges, taking a few steps back.

The woman seems to reach out into the darkness for a moment, then—

Light floods Yo’s vision, and it takes her a while of blinking to be able to see through the spots in her sight. Peering through watery eyes, she’s surprised to find herself confronted by a doorway, a wooden one, set in a wood wall that sections off the rest of the cave.

“Come in,” the woman says, stepping into the doorway and shedding her cloak. “It’s a bit messy, but it’ll have to do for now.”

Yo follows suit, and is caught off guard by what she sees inside. It’s a fully furnished, properly decorated, roughly circular room, which would look perfectly at home in a summer log cabin, rather than deep in a cave in a cursed forest in the middle of nowhere. There’s a large smouldering hearth at the center, warming the room to a pleasant cozy temperature. Next to the hearth is a small table with two chairs, cups and plates recently used still strewn about on the tabletop. A large bed is pushed up against one wall, the sheets messy and wrinkled.

It’s very homely, and for a moment Yo wonders if she’s passed out and is just dreaming all this up after all.

But on closer inspection, Yo starts to get an uneasy feeling.

Many shelves line the walls, filled with all sorts of old and dusty tomes as well as bizarre items such as vials of liquid, jars of preserved creatures, and animal skulls. There’s a cauldron sitting in one corner, bubbling over a smaller smouldering fire, suspended from a metal tripod. Perched precariously on the tripod is a black cat, napping lazily amidst the warm steam from the cauldron. Most telling of all, there’s what looks like a pointed black hat hanging from a coat hanger…

Strange curios… cauldron… black cat… pointy hat…

Yo feels a chill go down her spine. They’re in a witch’s lair.

Yo has heard stories of witches before. Even participated in hunts of a few of them. They’re foul creatures, twisted by the dark forces they’re in contact with. They wield unnatural powers, and can mix concoctions that could make tame the most ferocious beast… or lay such a creature low. Yo’s seen a witch transform an entire squadron of soldiers into helpless mice before. She’s heard tale of witches kidnapping entire villages, using them in their experiments.

Her instincts tell her to go for her sword, but she’s still holding Chika. There’s no way she can defend herself while protecting Chika at the same time, not in her current state. She beats herself up for being so careless - there’s no way someone living in a godforsaken forest would be normal - she should have rejected the woman’s offer and just tried to make it on her own…!

While she’s frozen in place, the witch runs up to the cauldron and grabs the cat, holding it up by the armpits and giving it a disapproving stare.

“Azazel! What did I say about napping above the cauldron? You’ll get the smoke in your fur!”

Meow.

“Just because you’re never going to get to meet a lady cat doesn’t mean you should ignore your appearances, you know? You’re the familiar of a great black witch, you should act the part.”

Meow?

“It’s Yohane! Yo-Ha-Ne! Not Yoshiko, you dumb cat!”

Mrow…

“…I swear, if you weren’t a gift from Mom I’d have…” She breathes in, calming herself down. Placing the cat down on the floor, she crouches down and waggles a finger at the cat. “I have guests to tend to, okay? So don’t get in my way, and be nice.”

Mrooow. The cat blinks languidly, before padding up to the main hearth and curling up beside it.

The woman turns, and gives Yo a mildly apologetic look. “Sorry about that. My cat is a bit of a pain in the ass… a sassy bugger, too. Now, put your friend down on the bed. I’m pretty sure she needs urgent treatment.”

Yo just stares at the woman, on guard. “You’re… you’re a witch.”

“Yes, and you’re about to fall over, so make use of the last bit of strength you’ve got and put her here.” The witch sighs, patting the bed. “Unless you want her to die from asphyxiation.”

Yo narrows her eyes at the witch, but eventually she obliges, walking over to the bed and placing Chika down on it. “If you try anything funny, I’ll kill you.”

“Mortals.” The witch rolls her eyes, putting her hands up. “Very well. I meant no harm to begin with, but I swear on my stygian soul that I’ll do no harm to you or your companion.”

“Your what?” Yo asks, before she can stop herself.

The witch sighs tiredly. “My Stygian soul. All black witches have a sliver of the fallen Morningstar’s essence in their being. It’s what connects us to the darker powers. If I break a swear on my Stygian soul, I lose my powers. Now may I get to saving your companion’s life?”

Yo nods dumbly, and the witch begins to look over Chika, feeling for a pulse, checking her breathing, other things that Yo doesn’t quite understand. Yo watches the witch as she examines Chika’s condition, focused on the task at hand.

It suddenly occurs to Yo that the witch is very pretty - her skin is pale, almost white, like nobility, which contrasts with her dark hair and vivid rosy eyes. Her features are delicate, and there’s an air of mystery about her, as though she’s not of this world. She’s young, too - there’s a softness to her features that makes Yo believe she’s not far from Yo in age.

Yo continues to watch the witch for a long moment before she catches herself and looks away, blushing slightly. To associate herself with a creature of darkness such as a witch - Yo is already committing a heinous crime. She suddenly recalls a story she’d heard, of a witch playing the part of temptress and luring men to their deaths. Perhaps this witch is much the same, using her beauty to lower Yo’s guard.

She grips the hilt of her broken sword, her wariness spiked again.

“Hey.”

Yo jumps, startled. The witch is staring at her, with those intense magenta eyes. “W-What?”

“You two had a run in with a basilisk, right? The petrification pattern is very distinct.”

“Y-Yeah. Chika got hit with its cursed stare, and got like this…”

Yo bites her lip, recalling how Chika locked eyes with the basilisk, and immediately tensed up, her limbs starting to lock up.

“Oh, don’t tell me you believe in that silly myth.”

The witch rolls her eyes, standing up and moving around the room, gathering up an armful of various items from the shelves that line the walls. “There’s no such thing as a cursed gaze. Even if there were, basilisks haven’t an inch of magic in their eyeballs. The basilisk paralyzes its prey by spitting out a colorless, tasteless poison that forces the body into a false state of rigor mortis. I’m mixing an antidote to the poison right now. You’re lucky her lungs haven’t been affected yet, otherwise she’d have suffocated.”

Yo blinks, confused. She only gets a bit of what the witch had said, but she still nodded along. She understands that the witch is trying to cure Chika, though, and that’s enough for her.

She watches, as the witch puts the items she gathered on the bedside of where Chika’s lying, and picks out two vials, one containing a powder and another a thick gel. She empties the gel into a bowl, and sprinkles the powder on top. She then takes a dried branch, and peels some bark off, crumbling the wood and adding it to the bowl. Finally, she uncorks a tall bottle of what looks like wine, and drizzles it into the bowl.

As she starts to mix all the ingredients together, she explains, “This is a combination of muscle activators and looseners. It should counteract the effects of the basilisk poison. I could make something better if I had a sample, but I’m not eager to go poking around a basilisk’s mouth.”

“Oh, if you need a sample, I’ve got it’s head here.” Yo holds up the sack by her side.

The witch stops, and stares at Yo.

“You’ve got it’s what?”

“It’s head. See?”

Yo opens the back, pointing it towards the witch. The witch peeks inside, does a small take, and looks back up at Yo with a glint of newfound respect - or at least approval - in her eyes.

“What was your name again? I don’t think it ever got brought up.” She asks, with mildly more interest as she takes the sack and pulls the head of the basilisk out.

“Knight Yo, of House Watanabe.” Yo says, with pride.

“Hm. I am Yohane of the Black Grove. Charmed.” Yohane does a small curtsey.

_Mrow. _Her black cat - Azazel, if Yo recalls correctly - meows suddenly. Yohane glares at the cat. “It’s not Yoshiko, Azazel. If you say anymore of that nonsense I’m putting you into the cauldron.”

The cat sticks its tongue out at Yohane, and continues to nap by the fireplace.

Yohane, meanwhile, breaks off a fang from the mouth of the basilisk, and holds it over the bowl, shaking it a few times. Sure enough, a clear liquid drips from the fang, hissing as it falls into the bowl. The concoction begins to steam, and Yohane dips a spoon into the bowl, pulling out a spoonful of foul brownish green mixture. She feeds it to Chika, a little bit dribbling out of the corner of her frozen mouth, but Yohane doesn’t seem to mind, nodding in satisfaction.

“There. In a week or so she’ll be able to walk again, and she’ll be conscious long before that.” Yohane turns, and stalks over to Yo. “Now, your turn.”

“M-My turn?” Yo blinks, surprised.

“Your arm is going to get black rot if you don’t treat it. And if you managed to kill a basilisk, I’m sure that’s not the only injury you have right now.”

“Oh. Right.”

Yo had been so focused on Chika that she almost forgot she’s wounded as well. She nods, and presents her arm to Yohane.

Yohane shakes her head, gesturing at her blood-soaked tunic. “You’re going to have to take that off, too.”

“Huh?” Yo blushes, her voice going a few octaves higher.

“Well, you probably have wounds all over, so— it’s not for anything else! It’s not. Yohane is beyond such earthly temptations.” Yohane looks away, in a way she probably thinks is dismissive.

Yo finds it cute, but she’s more concerned with the truth in her statement. Now that she’s thinking about it, she’s aching all over, and whatever wonder potion Yohane gave her is starting to wear off and she’s—

Oh, she’s on the ground. Her legs aren’t responding anymore.

“…Help?”

Yohane sighs, and moves over to the fire, grabbing a bedroll that’s been lying around and spreading it out. She then drags Yo over to the bedroll, laying her down on it.

“Your body’s going into shock. At last. I thought you’d be out by the time we got here, but you held on for longer than expected…”

She uncorks another potion and puts it to Yo’s mouth. “Drink. It’ll keep you from dying on me.”

Yo drinks it obediently - not like she has much other choice - and immediately the aching in her body ceases. As does all feeling in her limbs, and most sensations from the neck down.

Yohane drags a box over, and opens it, pulling out a set of needles and thread, alongside a bottle of something or another.

“So — how did you end up tangling with a basilisk? That’s some serious bad luck.”

“Well, actually I- OW!”

Yohane suddenly stabs Yo with a needle. It’s dulled, but it still hurts like a bitch. She looks Yo in the eyes, seriously. “Keep talking. It’ll help.”

“I- uh, I’m a royal knight. I was sent on a quest to hunt down the basilisk plaguing the northern trade routes.”

“Just you?” Yohane stops, eying Chika. “The two of you?”

Yo shrugs. “Those are my orders.”

Yohane bites her lip. “That’s ridiculous. Two people hunting a basilisk, without preparation or magic? It’s borderline suicidal.”

“To be fair, we didn’t know it was a basilisk. We were told it was a giant lizard.”

“Still. You’d think the royalty would be able to spare more troops. Unless…” Yohane narrows her eyes, a terrible idea crossing her mind. “Is someone in the Court against you? I’m not exactly updated on the current political landscape, but I’m almost certain you don’t sent a single knight out to kill a creature that can decimate an entire trade route.”

Yo looks away, and Yohane gets the distinct impression she’s trying hard not to think about it.

“It’s my duty to serve the kingdom.” Yo says, quietly.

“Even if you die?” Yohane asks offhandedly.

“To the death.” Yo answers, deadly serious.

Yohane stares at her for a while before shaking her head. “This is why I can’t get along with knights. Duty this, and duty that. Life is more than a job description, you know? Live a little.”

“It’s not so simple. I don’t expect a witch who lives outside of the boundaries of civilization to understand.”

“Try me.”

Yo breathes out, staring up at the ceiling. “Knighthood is more than a title. It’s a promise, a… a debt, even. I owe a life debt to the last queen of Ura. She made me into the person I am now. In return, I swore to serve and protect her kingdom with my life. I’m more than just one person now. I carry the burdens of Ura on my shoulders.”

“Isn’t it a heavy burden for one person to carry?”

Yo smiles, and shakes her head. “I’m strong enough to carry it.”

Yohane glances at the lopped-off basilisk head, and quietly agrees with her.

The next day Yo wakes up wrapped in clean linen bandages, dressed in a fresh tunic, and tucked in comfortable fur blankets. She doesn’t remember when she fell asleep - they were chatting, and Yohane was still treating her wounds when exhaustion and the medication combined finally dragged her mind into unconsciousness.

She sits up, surprised to find her muscles responding perfectly well. There’s no ache or soreness, except in her arm where the worst of her injuries are. She stretches carefully for a few minutes, before standing up to wander around the cave.

There’s much she doesn’t understand about Yohane’s lair. As a noble’s daughter, Yo has been taught to read and write, but the books on the bookcases seem to be written in arcane languages beyond her understanding. The titles boast strange and obscure things, such like the ‘Necronomicon’ the ‘Book of Eibon’, and ‘Twilight’.

She then goes over to the bed, where Chika is resting. She’s relieved to find that her limbs have started to loosen, and her body is no longer tense and rigid like before. She’s still unconscious, though, and Yo has no mind to disturb her.

Mrow. Yo looks down. Yohane’s cat, Azazel, is pawing at her feet, looking up at her with inquisitive green eyes.

“Hello, Azazel.” Yo says, crouching down. The cat’s ears flick at her use of the name, as though it understands her words.

Then again, Azazel is a witch’s cat. Yo wouldn’t be surprised if it spoke.

“You wouldn’t know where your master is, would you?” Yo asks, scratching Azazel behind the ears. It purrs, and looks up behind Yo.

Yo turns around, and there Yohane is, her arms crossed and smirking. “I see you’ve befriended Azazel. He doesn’t take easy to strangers, you know? He must see something in you.”

Yo scoops Azazel up in her arms, and straightens up, looking at Yohane. “Where have you been?” She asks, curious. Yohane seems to be wearing traveling clothes - a thick cloak, and a bulging bag at her side.

“Breakfast,” Yohane says, and upends her bag, pouring out a sizeable pile of berries and fruit. Yo notes, with a bit of a frown, that there’s no meat. As though reading her thoughts, Yohane laughs. “I don’t kill. The ghosts will haunt me if I take a soul.”

Yo sighs, and shrugs, tucking in to the vegetarian meal. Yohane picks at a few berries as well, but eats markedly less than Yo does. Azazel lazily paws at the berries, before finally settling down on Yohane’s lap.

After a while, Yo speaks up, though she keeps her voice quiet. “I should be leaving, soon. My people expect me to return by nightfall, and without a horse it’ll surely take me even longer to return to the Keep.”

Yohane nods slowly, munching ponderously on an apple-like fruit. “Yes, I suspected that was the case. I can arrange for a ride, so you don’t have to worry. It’ll only last you a few hours, but that should be enough to return you to your territory.”

“What about Chika?”

Yohane glances at the sleeping woman. “She can remain here. I will keep her safe, and see to her treatment. If you return in a week, she’ll be good to take back.”

“Hm.” Yo nods. She’s surprised she’s so quick to trust the witch, but Yohane hasn’t done anything to hurt the two of them in the time they’ve stayed in her lair. Despite their differences, Yo finds Yohane’s company affable - enjoyable, even - and she’s willing to leave the safety of her friend in Yohane’s hands. Only a fool would dare cross a witch.

Once they’re done with breakfast, Yo sighs, and straps her broken sword to her side. She just doesn’t feel right without it.

“I should get going, then.”

Yohane nods, and stands up, leading the way out of the cave. Standing in the sun again, Yo takes a moment to breathe in the fresh air, soaking in the outside world after being cooped up in the cave.

“How do you not feel mouldy, living in that cave your whole life?” Yo asks, glancing at Yohane.

The witch shrugs, watching the clouds crawl across the sky. “It’s home. It was home for my mother, and my mother’s mother, and her mother as well. Our coven have lived here for generations… though I’m the last of my family.”

“What happened to the others? I thought a coven would be larger…”

Yohane gives Yo a cold look, the most emotionless Yo’s seen from her thus far. Yo has to suppress a shiver as Yohane says, “A few simply went missing, never to return. Some left to find the missing, and they never came back, either. A few were lost to knights, hunted down and killed.”

She says the last part pointedly, giving Yo a look that chilled her to her bones. But then she smiles, and it’s like the inhuman coldness was never in her being, though Yo can still feel the icy gaze from a moment ago on her skin.

“But- that’s in the past. And I’ve striven to reform myself into a witch capable of living in harmony with the world.” She smiles thinly. “Even silly knights to stumble into my lair in the dark of night.”

Yo chuckles, and stretches her arms out, loosening her limbs for the journey ahead. “So, you talked about a ride?”

“Oh yes, just give me a moment.”

Yohane shifts, reaching under her robes and retrieving — Yo’s stomach flips — the skull of a horse, with all manner of arcane symbols carved into the bone. Yohane looks at it longingly for a moment, before placing it on the ground before Yo.

“I was saving this for a rainy day, but I suppose this is a good enough cause…”

She pulls out a pouch, and draws out a handful of glittering red crystal dust. “Ashes we once were, and ashes we will be— come forth, flesh once dust, and give service to me—”

Yo tilts her head as Yohane sprinkles the dust onto the skull, continuing to murmur in an unfamiliar arcane language. Then she stops, and steps back, gesturing for Yo to back away as well.

Yo does, and before her very eyes the skull begins to rise up into the air, the magical glyphs glowing with an ominous red light. Tendrils of red extend from the base of the skull, wrapping around each other like glowing bloody vines until an ethereal spine suspends from the skull. More tendrils erupt, twisting themselves into a facsimile of a skeletal horse, as well as a saddle and the appropriate regalia fitting of a warhorse. The light fades away after a while, leaving only the skeletal horse, looking like it has always been there.

There’s a moment of silence as the skeletal horse just stays there, then it turns its head slightly, snorting at Yo.

“It recognizes you as its rider, Watanabe Yo.” Yohane pats the ribcage of the skeletal horse. “Go - it’ll last only a few hours. You have a day’s ride ahead of you.”

Yo nods, and with expert ease, mounts up on the skeletal horse, taking its ethereal reins in hand. She glances back at Yohane, and tentatively gives her a wave. There’s a flash of surprise in Yohane’s eyes, before she smiles wryly, and waves back.

Yo then stirs the horse into action, starting with a slow canter that breaks into a gallop. Before long Yohane is out of sight, and it’s just Yo and the ghostly horse, galloping through the cursed woods.

A week later, Yohane is sorting her collection of dried herbs when she notices Azazel’s ears prick up. Knowing her familiar’s senses to be infallible, Yohane closes her eyes and opens her senses as well, tuning in to the ebb and flow of nature around her.

“What is it, Yohane?”

Yohane holds up a finger to her lips in response to Chika, who has been awake since a couple of days ago. She’s only recently regained use of her legs, but she’s already up at at it, exploring the room and the caverns beyond which once belonged to Yohane’s coven.

Chika takes the hint, and stays quiet. She’s also learned to respect Yohane’s abilities, after Yohane took offence to one of her comments and turned her into a frog.

Yohane’s ears prick, and she smiles. “We’re about to have company. One… no, two horses, riding in from the west.”

“The west…” Chika does some thinking in her head, before her expression turns into a bright smile. “That’s the direction of home! Do you think it’s Yo?”

Yohane shrugs. “My senses only extend so far, and only with so much clarity. The Power is useful, but not omnipotent.”

They continue on with their work for the while - Yohane continuing to sift through box after box of mixed herbs, cursing her past self for lack of organization, while Chika plays with Azazel. Or, chases after Azazel, as the cat doesn’t seem much impressed by the woman’s enthusiasm. Eventually she catches up with the cat, and despite the cat’s mewled protests, she curls up with the cat on the bed, resting her recovering body.

Finally, Azazel is fed up with Chika’s unskilled petting - more fitting for a dog than a refined feline - and uses the little magical Power it has inside to disappear in a poof of smoke, reappearing in Yohane’s lap. It meows at Yohane, and the witch seems to consider the cat’s words (?) carefully before placing the cat on her shoulder and rising to her feet.

“Stay here, Chika. I’ll go welcome the guests. If my Sight is correct, it should be your friends - but it could be a trick.”

Donning her finest black cloak, and slipping on her hat, she steps out of the room, though not forgetting to stop by the mirror at the door to tidy herself up. She wants to present herself at her best to her guests.

Padding through the darkness, seeing through her Power and the eyes of Azazel, it doesn’t take long for her to navigate out of the cave into the sun. She draws her hat down instinctively, keeping an eye on the forest. The undergrowth conceals much, but she can feel through the ground approaching hoofbeats, and the excited breaths of two people.

Sure enough, within minutes two horses come thundering into view - one ridden by a familiar armoured knight, the other by a stranger - with wine-red hair and golden eyes, and a certain timidness to her demeanour. She certainly doesn’t seem at home on a charging warhorse, clutching at her reins until her knuckles turned white. They slow to a stop as they approach Yohane, the warhorses sniffing the air curious as they come to a halt.

This time, seeing Yo in full gleaming regalia, her sword at her side, a shining garland of nobility upon her brow, Yohane smiles and bows respectfully.

“Royal Knight Yo of House Watanabe, I, Yohane of the Black Grove, welcome you to the lands of my coven.”

Taken aback by the formality for a moment, Yo panics for a moment before nodding clumsily in reply. Yohane chuckles, and straightens up. “Welcome back to my lair, Yo.”

She glances at Yo’s companion, and inclines her head. “And you are?”

“Oh, erm, this is my chamberlain, Sakurauchi Riko. She’s also— well, you’ll see.” Yo smiles, and dismounts from her horse, before helping Riko with getting off hers.

“Lady Riko, then.” Yohane nods her head politely at Riko, who shakes her head quickly.

“Just… Riko will be fine. My standing is not as high as Lady Watanabe, and you refer to her name normally…”

Yo sighs in exasperation. “For the last time, if we’re not in court, it’s fine if you just call me Yo.”

“But we’re in the presence of a neutral third party, it’s important we keep up appearances lest we offend Lady Yohane—” Riko protests, before Yo silences her by turning to Yohane.

“It’s fine if we keep things casual, right?”

Yohane nods. “There are no ranks within a witch’s coven - only family. Those who I accept are esteemed guests of our family, and are regarded with equal respect.”

Riko sighs, eying Yo sullenly. “Very well. I’ll put protocol aside for now…”

“You’ve been hanging around Kurosawa for too much. You never used to be this much of a stickler for rules.”

Yo grins, and turns back to Yohane. “Please, lead the way. Is Chika doing alright?”

“Her body has healed, and it appears her emotional state has made a full recovery as well.”

Yohane smiles, reaching up and ticking Azazel’s chin as she turns and heads back into the darkness of the cavern. “She has taken quite a liking to my familiar.”

“That sounds like Chika.” Yo chuckles following after Yohane. Riko lingers for a moment, eying the darkness apprehensively, before deciding that following Yo and the strange witch is better than being alone in a cursed woods.

“She has missed you greatly, and was worried for your safety in the beginning. I explained everything to her, of course, and she’s been happily resting for the past few days.”

“Being lazy, then. Sounds like a dream come true for Chika. She must be having the time of her life,” Yo muses, stopping as Yohane does. Riko squeaks when she bumps into Yo, unable to stop in time in the darkness.

The hidden door to Yohane’s lair creaks open again, and once more, the warm light floods Yo’s vision, though she’s ready for it this time. She’s about to speak up, when she’s suddenly pushed aside by a blur of wine red, and a high-pitched squealing fills the small cave room.

“Chika!” Riko throws herself against the woman, peppering Chika with kisses and strangling her with a bone-crushing hug. “You idiot! Don’t ever put yourself in danger like that again! Do you have any idea how scared I was when Yo came back without you?!”

Chika is taken aback for a moment, before she bursts into laughter and hugs back, stroking Riko soothingly. “I’m sorry I scared you. I promise I’ll be more careful - but if I didn’t put myself in the way, Yo might not have been able to get back at all.”

“Gh… I hate it when you have a point, you idiot…”

Yo laughs, and she and Yohane make for the opposite corner of the room, leaving the lovebirds to kiss and make up. Sitting down, Yo sighs, trying her best to ease the weight the armor puts on her body. Noticing this, Yohane offers her a potion, claiming it soothes muscle aches and helps with stamina.

“Thank you,” Yo accepts the potion gratefully, draining the vial quickly. Immediately she feels a new vigour surge through her body, and her armor suddenly feels just a little lighter. Pausing for a moment, she glances over at Riko and Chika before turning back to Yohane with a solemn expression on her face.

“What is it?” Yohane asks, noticing the abrupt change in attitude.

“I need your help.” Yo says, slowly.

“I’ll try my best.” Yohane promises.

Yo breathes out slowly, tapping her sword hilt nervously. “What can you tell me about chimeras? Beyond the common myths and legends, I mean.”

“Chimeras, you ask?” Yohane raises an eyebrow. “One of the few truly magical creatures. It has the resilience of a goat, the ferocity of a lion, and the cunning of a serpent - and a body composed of all three. It can breathe fire from its goat head, and spit venom from its serpent tail. A dangerous opponent, even for someone wielding magic of their own…”

She looks up suddenly, startled. “You’re not about to go hunting one of those, are you?”

Yo nods, her expression grim. “I have orders to hunt a chimera terrorizing the north-eastern villages.”

“On your own, though?”

“…I have my orders.”

Yohane’s expression darkens. “You realize this is nothing less than an attempt at your life, right? Why are you still going along with these suicidal orders?”

Yo looks at Yohane. “I must, for my house, and my honour.”

“To Hell with your honour! You’re going to die!”

“But my house still needs me.” Yo says, a hint of resignation entering her voice. “If I don’t, I put my house at risk. My crimes of insubordination will drag them down with me.”

“They’re holding your family hostage?” Yohane’s voice is an appalled whisper.

Yo shrugs, smiling helplessly. “Such is court politics.”

“_No. _You can’t just take that lying down, there has to be something you can do…”

“There’s nothing, Yohane. I appreciate the sentiment, but I’ve already tried everything I can.” Yo shakes her head slowly. “At least now I’m saving people. As is my duty.”

She stares firmly at Yohane. “And of I’m not out there… no one will be. It’s out in the middle of nowhere, of no importance to the kingdom’s function. They’re not going to expend that many soldiers just to secure a frontier town. I’m the village’s only hope.”

Yohane sighs, looking at Yo with a mixture of concern and sympathy.

“…Wait here.”

She pushes past the doors leading deeper into the caverns, heading into the storage rooms which hold the bulk of the magical artifacts in her possession. After a few minutes of rooting around, she returns with an armful of trinkets, which she proceeds to hand over to Yo, explaining each one’s function as she passes it over.

“This will protect you from fire. This from the venom, though not too much of it.” She explains, with a clipped tone. “This will allow you to go longer without tiring, but if you take it off the tiredness will return two-fold, so plan accordingly. Use this girdle on your horse - it’ll strengthen its resolve and prevent it from running in terror from the chimera.”

Yo nods as she gathers up the items in her arms, replying quietly. “Thank you, Yohane.”

“Don’t thank me, I’m only loaning them to you.” Yohane says, sharply. “I’ll only accept thanks when you come back to return them.”

Yo shifts, startled, before smiling and nodding. “I see. I’d better try my best to come back, then, huh?”

“You’d better.” Yohane confirms, before scowling and turning to bark at Chika and Riko. “You two! Are you quite done yet, or would you like to start making children in our presence?”

Chika and Riko freeze, on the brink of starting to strip each other down. Chika has a hand up Riko’s tunic, and Riko’s fingers are tangled up in Chika’s hair. Blushing, they reluctantly break apart, shuffling their feet as they draw apart. Riko coughs, brushing herself down and tidying up her hair. Chika just grins shamelessly.

“We’re done,” Chika says quickly. “Right, Riko?”

Riko clears her throat, regaining her composure. “Erm, yes. Right.”

“Good. Then you can get that good-for-nothing layabout out of my lair.” Yohane waves dismissively at Chika, who pouts, upset. “She was fun for a while, but I tire of her company.”

Yo chuckles. “You’re probably eager to get back to the estate anyway, right, Chika?”

Chika continues to pout, but reluctantly nods. She’s been away from home for too long, especially considering the gravity of her condition just a few days prior. Seeing Riko is a relief, but there’s just nothing quite like home.

“And you—” Yohane turns to Yo. Her gaze softens when she locks eyes with the knight. “You have a mission to complete.”

Yo nods solemnly.

“I’ll accompany you out, then.”

Yohane heads out of the room again, Yo and her entourage in tow. Yo starts to recognize the path they take through the darkness now, and thinks next time, she might be able to get to the door on her own.

If there’s a next time.

Chika and Riko saddles up in one horse. “We’re gonna go back to the estate, then.”

Yo nods, smiling at them. “Stay safe, okay? You’re not fully healed yet, Chika, so if it comes down to it you won’t be able protect both yourself and Riko.”

“We will!”

Chika and Riko gives Yo a final wave before setting off, quickly vanishing into the dense forest.

Yo sighs, looking away from them and turning towards Yohane. There’s a hint of resignation in her expression that wasn’t there a moment ago, and she gives Yohane a wry smile.

“Well then. I guess I’ll be off.”

She moves to saddle up, but Yohane surprises her by suddenly grabbing Yo’s hand. Yo feels her face grow warm, but she looks back at Yohane, questioningly.

Yohane breathes in shakily, and when she looks at Yo there’s a desperation in her eyes that takes Yo by surprise.

“Don’t die.”

Yo swallows. Then she smiles, and there’s a quiet confidence in her voice as she says, “I won’t.”

And for a moment, Yohane almost believes her.

Mrrrow.

Yohane blinks, looking up. Azazel is pawing at her bun impatiently, perched on her head. She’s hunched over her worktable, a half-finished packet of herbs sitting in front of her. The oil lamp sitting on the desk has long since burnt out, leaving only the smouldering embers of the central hearth projecting a dim glow into the room.

“Ah… sorry, Azazel. I must’ve gotten distracted again.”

Mrow? Azazel tilts its head curiously, and Yohane sighs, reaching over and rubbing it behind its ears.

“No, it’s not about the herbs. It’s…”

Meow. Azazel mewls plainly. Yohane smiles wryly. “Am I that easy to read?”

Rrrr…

“Mm. I suppose so. It’s only been a month - she might just be busy with something else…”

Azazel purrs, rubbing up against Yohane’s palm. Yohane sighs, looking down.

“I guess it’s just a little lonely around here, after so much activity.”

Mew…

“It’s not like that!” Yohane blushes, cuffing Azazel around the ears. “She’s just… one of the few mortals I can actually tolerate.”

Apparently done with the conversation, Azazel mewls dismissively and retreats from the desk, padding over to the dying hearth and lying down next to it. Yohane glares at the cat for its rude parting remark, before sighing and returning to her work, refilling the lamp. Soon enough, the desk is well lit again, and she continues to labor over the packet of herbs.

It’s been a month since Yo left to hunt the chimera. Yohane has heard no word from her since - not that she expects to receive any word. She does live in the middle of nowhere, in the midst of a cursed wood, after all. But Yohane’s not been able to get Yo out of her mind since then. The way she’s ready to throw her life away for her knightly duties, the look of resignation and grim determination… Yohane is terrified that she’ll do something that no magic can fix.

Yo’s an idiot. She’s an idiot who can’t put herself before others, who’ll run herself ragged before she’ll allow someone else to be harmed in her stead. In the short time that Yohane’s known her, she’s realized this about Yo’s personality.

Mroww.

Yohane glances back at Azazel.

“…You’re right. Yo’s tough. She’s stronger than any mortal I’ve seen.” She breathes in, reassuring herself. “She’ll be fine.”

Azazel purrs, and closes its eyes contently.

Another week passes. Yohane continues to try (and fail) to not fret.

Another few days, and finally there’s a change. Yohane is in the middle of meditation when her eyes flash open.

“There’s someone coming.”

She glances at Azazel, who nods in agreement. After stretching lazily, the cat hops up onto Yohane’s shoulders, mewling softly.

“…Yeah, I don’t think it’s going to be a huge problem, but just to be safe…”

She picks up a vial filled with a blood red liquid, hiding it under her cloak. Nodding to herself, she then heads for the surface. Squinting in the sunlight, she’s cautious at first, but the wariness quickly evaporates when she recognizes the silhouette in the distance.

“Yo!” She shouts out, before she can stop herself. Her cheeks flush from her outburst, but she still waves at Yo as she approaches on her charger, unable to contain her excitement.

Yo doesn’t wave back, but as the horse gets closer Yohane can see that Yo is smiling. She’s wearing a traveler’s cloak this time, and judging from the look of the cloak, she’s not wearing armor underneath. The warhorse stops at a distance, and Yo dismounts carefully, patting the warhorse before turning to grin at Yohane.

“I’m back,” She says, the words making Yohane’s heart soar with relief.

“It’s been a month.” Yohane says. “I got worried.”

“Sorry,” Yo chuckles ruefully, stepping up to Yohane. She reaches out with her left hand, and pats Yohane on the head.

There’s a moment of silence, then Yohane’s cheeks explode with red. “Whuh— don’t patronize me! I am a great black witch!”

Yo laughs, bobbing her head agreeably. “Yes, yes. Sorry for that. Your magic really did help with the chimera. I’d be burnt to a crisp without the bracelet.”

She reaches back into her cloak again, and withdraws a few bracelets and charms in hand, holding it out to Yohane. “There. I’m returning it. Will you accept my thanks now?”

Yohane opens her mouth to speak, but she stops when she notices one of the artifacts missing. “…Where’s the stamina bracelet?”

Yo looks down, embarrassed. “Ah… I lost that.”

She shifts slightly, moving her cloak slightly. What Yohane sees makes her blood freeze.

Yo’s right arm is gone from the elbow down.

“The charm got eaten by the chimera…”

“Forget the charm!” Yohane shouts, grabbing Yo by the shoulders. “Your arm!”

“There’s… that too.”

Yo smiles lightly, but Yohane can see the bitter frustration hidden behind the smile. “I got careless…”

Bullshit she got careless. Up against a chimera, it’s a miracle Yo came back at all. It was a trap, all along.

Yohane’s shaking with anger as she asks, quietly. “Isn’t that your sword arm?”

Yo sighs, her smile slowly fading away. She suddenly looks incredibly tired, and old beyond her age. “Let it go, Yohane.”

“Those court bastards robbed you of your arm, Yo!” Yohane protests, her grip on Yo tightening. “How can you just let it go?!”

“I said—” Yo suddenly shouts, shaking Yohane off. “Let it go. There’s no point in fighting this.”

“But…!”

“I survived, thanks to you. That’s what I’m here for.” Yo bites her lip. “I survived to fight another day. That’s what’s important.”

“…But you can’t fight anymore…” Yohane murmurs.

Yo winces, but still musters up a forced smile. “I still have one arm, don’t I? I’ll make do.”

“But you…” Yohane starts to speak, but is cut off when Yo suddenly closes the distance between them and sweeps her up into a hug. Yohane is suddenly painfully aware of how Yo’s body is shaking from the myriad emotions swirling inside her.

“This isn’t a battle worth fighting…” Yo mutters, hugging Yohane close to her. “So please… just… drop it.”

Yohane grits her teeth, frustration and indignation welling up inside her like boiling water. But a few long seconds later, she deflates, burying her face into Yo’s shoulder.

“Fine.” She mumbles. “If that’s what you think is right, then fine.”

Yo breathes out a sigh of relief, patting Yohane on the back. “Thanks for understanding. I am a knight of the kingdom… I of all people can’t protest against the court’s decisions…”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it, though,” Yohane mutters, pulling away from Yo.

“I don’t like it either, Yohane.” Yo says, tiredly.

“I hate politics.”

“Me too.”

In spite of herself, Yo laughs quietly, scratching the back of her head. “I didn’t mean for it to get so heavy.”

“I’m sure you didn’t.”

Yo’s like that, Yohane thinks. Always thinking so positively. Yohane supposes it’s why she’s a knight - she has the personality to inspire and reassure.

She breathes out, allowing the righteous indignation to bleed out of her body.

“Is this the only reason why you came?” Yohane lifts the handful of magical charms.

“Actually, no.”

Yo grins. “I’m here to invite you to a banquet.”

“…What.”

“Will you go to the ball with me?”

“What.”

“There’s a big party held in my honour. ‘My honour’,” Yo says sarcastically. “I’m supposed to bring a plus one.”

“And you want to take… me? A witch?” Yohane points out.

“As long as you don’t use any magic.” Yo pouts. “You don’t want to come with me? I don’t want to have to face all those smelly old nobles alone…”

Yohane bites her lip, torn. On one hand, it’s a terrible idea, and Yohane has never left the range of her coven’s territory in her life. On the other hand, it’s Yo.

“There’s going to be free food, and good service. And I’ll show you around my family estate!” Yo holds out her hand. “Please? I want to pay you back for the magical charms. I owe you so much.”

Yohane sighs. She can’t say no to those eyes.

“Fine.” She begrudgingly takes Yo’s hand, bowing her knee and planting a dainty kiss on the back of her hand. “I’ll be in your care, then, m’lady.”

The trip to Yo’s estate takes about a day on horse back. Yohane tries not to focus on how she has to hold on to Yo, her arm around her waist for most of the journey. They stop in the middle for a quick break at a rural village, then set off again. By the time they approach the edge of Yo’s territory, the sun has already set, and Yohane summons up a burning skull to light the way.

When they start to see buildings in the distance, though, Yo turns around and asks Yohane to put out the skull lantern.

“Huh? Why?”

“Because most of these people have never seen magic in their life, and they might get worried at the sight of yours.”

“Hm.” Yohane considers that for a moment, before snuffing out the lantern with a snap of her fingers and stuffing the skull back into her bulging travel-bag. “I suppose.”

“I also don’t want them panicking and lynching you.”

“They can try.”

Yo nudges Yohane with her elbow. “Don’t curse my subjects.”

“Meh.” Yohane smirks. “No guarantees.”

Yo laughs, urging their horse onwards. As they finally approach the town, Yo speaks up. “We might have to spend the night in this township. My family estate proper is still a few hour’s ride out.”

Yohane looks around at the town buildings and streets, somewhat uneasily. It’s been a while since she’s spent a night out with many people. Even if this town on the edge of Yo’s territory doesn’t have the largest population, it’s still more people than she’s used to.

“Where are we staying?”

“There’s an inn that I know. The innkeepers used to work at my estate.”

“You trust them?”

“I’d trust them with my life.” Yo grins meaningfully. “You’ll see why.”

Yohane nods, falling silent. They continue to travel through town, with people peering at the two nighttime travellers from out of their windows and from their porches. Some seem to recognize Yo, and bow their heads respectfully when they pass. Yo gets flustered when that happens, but keeps steering the horse down the streets, towards the center of town.

Eventually Yo stops, and dismounts, offering a hand to help Yohane dismount as well. She gestures grandiosely at the building behind her, which is anything but grandiose - a simple, but sizeable, wood-and-stone building, with a large wooden sign hanging from a signpost: Tochiman Inn.

“Come on.” She pushes past the doors, and suddenly Yohane is assaulted by a wave of noise and chatter and warm lights and sweet smells. She swallows nervously, before following Yo into the inn.

It’s incredibly busy in the inn, with all sorts of people drinking and eating and chattering away happily. Round tables are set up around the ground floor, with a bar-slash-kitchen against one wall, and near the back, a stairwell leading to the second floor.

The door shuts behind Yo with a quiet thunk, which attracts the attention of the people nearby. They fall silent, staring at Yo and Yohane. That starts a chain reaction, and soon enough the whole room is quiet and staring at the two of them.

Yohane gulps, and hides behind Yo.

“Lady Watanabe…” An old man speaks up, coming up and tentatively shaking Yo’s hand. “I must thank you for supplying the medication for the plague last year. My grandchildren were seriously ill, but thanks to you, they’ve made a full recovery…!”

“Wow, well, I’m happy to hear that…” Yo begins, before she’s quickly interrupted by a middle-aged woman.

“Lady Watanabe, I’m forever grateful for your reducing the grain levies - the farm isn’t doing so well, you see, so the reduced levies is really helping us keep afloat!”

“Oh, that sounds great…”

“Lady Watanabe! I heard of your exploits in the country, when I finish training I want to be a knight just like you!”

“Lady Watanabe, about the land development reforms…”

“Lady Watanabe, my gratitude for your work with the church fund…”

“Ah, um, that’s wonderful, yes, erm…”

Yo has her hand out defensively in front of her, trying to politely fend off the crowd of people pressing in on her.

“Hey! Leave Lady Watanabe alone, or you’re gonna get the boot!”

There’s suddenly a commotion around the back of the crowd, and almost like magic, the crowd parts meekly, revealing a moderately tall woman with light brown hair and fiery red eyes, her arms crossed firmly across her chest. She reminds Yohane of Chika, except more mature, and more assertive.

She bows politely at Yo, before giving her a wide, friendly smile. “Welcome back to our inn, Lady Watanabe. I’m sorry that these ruffians don’t know any etiquette, it’s just their way of expressing thanks…”

“Yes, well, I gathered that much…” Yo mumbles, before raising her voice. “I’m very happy that my subjects find my policies agreeable, it’s my job to make the territory a better place, after all.”

There’s a murmur of approval that runs through the crowd, even as they start to disperse back to where they were sitting before.

Yo comes up to the woman, and shakes her hand. “How are you doing, Mito? It’s been a while since I last visited.”

Mito smiles warmly. “I’m sure Chika’s been talking, but you might’ve heard that we might be getting an expansion to the building - thanks to your land improvement policies, of course, Lady Watanabe.”

“Mito… please, just Yo is fine…” Yo mumbles, embarrassed. “You’re practically family.”

“We owe you way too much for that, Lady Watanabe.” Mito smiles. “So, what can we do for you? A drink? Some food?”

“A room would be nice.” Yo says.

Mito bites her bottom lip, and slowly says, “We don’t have a two-person room open… we just have a single bed room.” She hesitates for a moment before suggesting, “We could ask one of the current tenants to move…”

“No, that won’t be necessary, we’ll take the single bed,” Yo says quickly, before realizing what she’s saying and turning to Yohane sharply. “Um! If you don’t mind, that is…!”

Yohane’s face is bright red, but she mechanically shakes her head. Obviously Yo doesn’t want to bother anyone, so Yohane should totally go along with this, right? For no ulterior motive whatsoever.

“A single bed is fine!” She says, a few octaves higher than normal.

Mito looks between Yohane and Yo for a moment, before a look of comprehension dawns on her face, and she grins, nodding quickly. “Very well, I’ll tell Shima to get the room ready.”

She pauses and on a more serious note, adds quietly, “…I heard about… the arm…”

Yo glances down. She has her missing arm covered under her cloak, so it doesn’t arouse attention.

“I want you to know that you have all of our gratitude. Chika, Shima, myself - everyone here - we all owe our current prosperity to you and your family.”

She bows politely, before stepping back and disappearing behind a curtain into a back room.

“Shima?” Yohane asks, when Mito is out of sight.

“The other Takami sister. There’s three of them - Chika’s the youngest.”

Yohane nods slightly. “I see.”

Then she frowns. “But isn’t Chika your squire? Isn’t the Takami family nobility as well?”

Yo smiles, shaking her head.

“Chika is common born. I met Shima, Mito and Chika when I was very young. There was a bandit raid, which orphaned the three of them, and I begged my father to take them in. They were allowed to live in out estate, on the condition that they work as housekeepers.”

“That doesn’t explain why Chika’s your squire.”

“I’m getting there,” Yo says, smiling from the nostalgia. “I sometimes invite Chika to watch sword practice. Turns out she has a talent for it. I used my authority to make her my squire. Through her, I can give the Takami sisters benefits as well. Like their own plot of land, which they’ve used to build this inn.”

Yohane watches Yo, and sighs. “You’re really kindhearted, aren’t you?”

Yo blushes. “Wha- What are you saying all of a sudden?”

“Nothing.” Yohane looks away, smirking to herself.

Soon enough Mito returns with a room key, and Yo and Yohane head upstairs. Yohane wonders about the horse, but Yo reassures her that Mito will lead it into a stable around the back.

The room is, as expected, fairly small and cramped. There’s a desk, a bed with just enough space for two, and a nightstand with a dinky oil lamp sitting on top. That’s pretty much it for furnishings. Yohane looks around, noting the plain wood walls that look not soundproof at all, and the rickety floorboards.

“Comfy,” She comments, bringing out the skull and re-lighting it. It’s brighter than the oil lamp could ever be, anyway.

“They try their best. Running an inn is surprisingly hard, especially with only the two of them.”

“I suppose.”

“But I think they’re really happy now. They used to never smile when they worked in the estate. I guess they just like being around people, or something like that,” Yo says, as she rummages through her bag.

Yohane sits down on the bed, glancing over at Yo. “What are you looking for?”

“My bedroll. You can take the bed, I’m used to sleeping on the floor.”

Yohane frowns. “No, it’s alright. I can sleep on the floor just fine, you take the bed.”

“But it’ll be uncomfortable.”

“You’ll be uncomfortable if you sleep on the ground, too.” Yohane hesitates before adding, more quietly, “…and there’s your arm…”

Yo bites her lip, thinking for a long while. Eventually she suggests haltingly, “How about we… share… the bed?”

Yohane’s face is red, but she keeps an even tone of voice as she replies.

“…Sure… I’m fine with that.”

She shuffles over a bit, leaving some space for Yo.

Awkwardly, Yo sits down on the other side of the bed, unslinging her cloak and tossing it haphazardly over her bag.

“…We should sleep early.” Yo suggests, suddenly. “We’ll want to arrive at my estate early tomorrow so we have time to prepare.”

“Sure.” Yohane nods, taking off her cloak as well. She lies down on the bed, self-consciously keeping a distance from Yo’s side.

“Um… do you mind turning off the skull?”

“Oh! Right.” Yohane says sheepishly. She snaps her fingers, and the skull dims down to a bare glow, like a night-light. “Sorry.”

Yo laughs lightly, lying down on her side. “Goodnight, Yohane.”

“Goodnight, Yo.”

Yohane closes her eyes, clearing her head of thoughts. She lies there, still as a rock, waiting for sleep to claim her. But it never comes, no matter how hard she tries to capture that elusive feeling. She can hear Yo’s breathing, slow and even, behind her. Sense the slow drum of her heartbeat. Even feel the warmth radiating off of her. She can’t get Yo out of her mind. She’s just so distracting.

Yohane sighs grumpily, and rolls over to her other side. She jumps a little when she finds her gaze meeting Yo’s cerulean eyes, tired looking but still glittering with spirit.

Yo’s lips curl into a smirk. “Can’t sleep?”

“Just a little restless.”

“Hm.”

Yo nods slightly. “Nervous?”

“N-No.”

“Really?”

“…Okay, maybe a little.” Yohane admits. “I’ve… never been around so many people before. I’m well aware of the reputation of witches in the outside world. I guess… it’s a little nerve-wracking. Y’know, if I slip up and forget to hide my magic, that’ll be it for me.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Yo laughs quietly. “I’ll protect you.”

The light is dim, but she can still see Yo grinning toothily. Yohane blushes faintly, her eyes darting to one side. “I’ll hold you to that promise, then.”

They’re silent for a moment. Yo’s expression drifts off into a more neutral, pondering look. Yohane tries to think of something to say.

“…How about you?” She finally asks, after a long period of silence.

Yo shakes her head. “I’ve had trouble sleeping for a while, now.”

“How come?”

Yo hesitates, her mouth open but saying nothing.

Yohane thinks for a moment before asking, tentatively: “…Is it your arm?”

Yo closes her mouth, smiling wryly. “You see right through me, don’t you?”

“Just a lucky guess.” Yohane says quietly. She pauses, then carefully asks, “Does it hurt?”

Yo is silent for a long while, pondering the question. Eventually, instead of providing an answer, she speaks up quietly. “Would you like to touch it?”

“Um…” Yohane hesitates for a moment, before nodding slightly. “If you don’t mind…”

Yo breathes out, her expression unreadable. She rolls up her sleeve, baring her stump arm to Yohane. She does a little gesture with it, like a beckoning.

Yohane holds her breath as she reaches out, tracing the skin on the cross-section of Yo’s arm. She couldn’t see before, but now that she can actually feel it, she can tell that the wound must’ve been absolutely brutal, because even after it’s healed and smoothed over, the end of her arm is rough and uneven. She swallows as her finger runs over a hard bump - what must be the end of Yo’s humerus.

“Sometimes it feels like I still have it.” Yo murmurs, sadly. “Other times there’s a persistent ache that reminds me something is missing.”

“…Why?” Yohane breathes, pulling her hand away. “Why do you do this to yourself?”

“Because there’s no one else who will.” Yo says quietly. “We’ve talked about this, Yohane.”

Yohane bites her lip. She knows that Yo’s like this. She knows that there’s no way on earth Yo will abandon those who need her help, not when her hand is still able to reach them.

But she still has to try.

Otherwise Yo is going to die one day, and no amount of magic can reverse that.

“…You can be a little selfish sometimes, Yo. You’ve given up more than anyone else. The people love you. You’ve done your duty to the masses. You should treasure what you still have. Before you lose everything.”

“I can be a little selfish, huh…”

Yo closes her eyes, nodding to herself. She has a contemplative, almost peaceful expression on her face.

Then she smiles shyly. “Then… can I make a selfish request, Yohane?”

“If it’s in my power.” Yohane nods quickly.

“Tonight. Just for tonight…” Yo starts, before hesitating, her cheeks coloring slightly. “Can we cuddle?”

Yohane’s cheeks go bright red.

“Eh?”

“I- I said…”

Yo blushes fiercely, and she covers her face with her hands, rolling over on the bed. “Never mind! Ignore I said that! I’m just a stupid knight who doesn’t know when to give up, I’m sorry!”

She’s just about convinced that her life is over, and she might as well go back and offer up the rest of her limbs to the chimera, when she feels a pair of slender arms reach around and hug her from behind.

“No.” Yohane murmurs, her forehead resting against Yo’s neck. “I did say anything within my power. I was just a little surprised.”

Yo quiets down, content in being embraced from behind like that for a while. Minutes tick pass in silence, with Yohane listening to the rise and fall of Yo’s breathing. It’s peaceful, and despite Yohane’s hammering chest, strangely calming.

“…I’ve never had the chance to be like this.” Yo murmurs, quietly.

“Never?”

“Never.” Yo sighs wistfully. “My parents had to maintain their distance, and people only ever approached me with intentions about our family fortune. I’ve never had a significant other. I think this is the first time I’ve shared a bed with someone other than Chika, actually.”

“Wow.” Yohane blinks. “I’m honored.”

“Mm. This is nice, though.”

Yo chuckles. “I can almost ignore my arm like this.”

“Well, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

Yo smiles, closing her eyes and leaning against Yohane. “Thank you, Yohane.”

“For this?”

“For everything.”

Yohane thinks she detects a hint of melancholy in Yo’s voice, but as her breathing evens out, and the knight slowly drifts off to sleep, Yohane decides she can wait until tomorrow to ask what that was about.

When Yohane wakes up the next morning, she finds herself in a tangle of limbs. Yo seems to have flipped over in the course of the night, and has wedged her arm beneath Yohane, trapping the witch in a loose hug. She’s not able to extricate herself from it without waking Yo, so she just sighs and settles back, trying to relax.

Yo’s face is very close, her eyes shut peacefully, her chest rising and falling to a steady beat. Her lips, which are soft and pink, are curved into a small smile. Her eyelids flutter sometimes, and Yohane wonders what she’s dreaming about.

“Dad…” Her lips part slightly as she breathes out. It’s only then that Yohane realizes something is missing from the picture compared to how Yo normally is.

When Yo is awake, it’s like there’s an underlying sadness to her, all the time. She tries her best to hide it, but to Yohane, whose senses extend beyond the material, it’s pretty obvious. It’s like she always has something on her mind, that she can never get rid of or forget.

Now, she looks at peace. Serene. She seems younger, too, the emotional wear and abuse of years of military service melting away in her dreams.

“Don’t go…”

Yohane blinks, looking a little closer. There’s a glistening at the corners of Yo’s eyes - is she crying?

She reaches out, gently brushing the teardrop away. Yo wrinkles her brow at the gesture, her body shifting as she stretches out slightly. She breathes out slowly, and her eyes slowly peek open.

“…Yohane?”

“Good morning.” Yohane says, quietly.

Neither of them move for a moment, their eyes meeting and holding.

“Were you dreaming? You were saying something.”

“It’s… nothing.” Yo looks away, smiling sadly to herself. “It’s just… remembering better times.”

Yohane’s mouth makes a little “O” shape, and she nods. She lies back down, thinking for a moment.

“Do you want to get up, now?” She suggests.

Yo glances at her pinned arm for a moment before shrugging and smiling. “I like it this way.”

Yohane blushes. How can Yo say that so casually?

“But—” Yo sits up, freeing her arm from underneath Yohane. “I suppose we should get going.”

“Right.”

After getting dressed, Yo and Yohane quickly scarf down a simple breakfast downstairs, and are soon on their way, riding out of town and back into the countryside. She urges the horse into a the horse into a gallop, and soon enough they’re thundering across the dusty main road that leads through Yo’s territory.

“What’s the rush?!” Yohane asks, the wind whipping her hair back and drowning out her voice.

“We’ll need most of the day to get ready,” Yo replies, turning back to Yohane and grinning ever so slightly. “Plus, I just like the feeling of the wind in my face!”

She laughs heartily, and Yohane thinks it’s these times that Yo’s most alive - not when she’s facing her subjects, or when she’s departing for a heroic quest, but when she’s unbound in the wild, riding atop her galloping charger and taking flight across the fields.

Yohane’s not so much into the rough ride, but she finds herself smiling at Yo’s enthusiasm nonetheless.

“How long until we get there?” Yohane shouts.

“Another half hour! At most!”

They stop by a stream mid-way, giving their horse a break and letting it drink its fill, then they’re on their way again, galloping across the plains. Eventually, in the distance, Yohane spots civilization: A large, white mansion — though it might be more accurate to call it a small castle.

“Is that it?” Yohane points out.

Yo grins, and nods, pulling on the reins and guiding the horse towards the mansion.

“That’s the family estate!”

Yo lets out a whoop, and Yohane has to hold on for dear life as she urges the horse on, speeding towards the mansion.

“Woah…”

Yohane can’t help but breathe out a sigh of awe as Yo slows the horse down to a trot as they head down the path leading up to the mansion proper. The grounds of the mansion are bursting with life, with colorful flower beds and bushes and trees and fountains of all shapes and sizes dotting the massive garden.

The mansion itself is massive - two… no, three stories high, with countless gleaming windows on the front-facing wall. The walls are a polished white marble, the window frames glittering gold, and it stretches far to both sides. She gapes at the Corinthian columns set between windows as decoration, at the intricately carved ocean motifs in the marble walls, and then looks at Yo with an awestruck expression.

“You’re loaded!”

Yo blushes in embarrassment as they dismount, stepping up to the great wooden doors of the mansion. “My ancestors were the ones who built the mansion… we actually have a good deal less wealth than what the house would imply…”

She knocks on the door, twice, loudly and clearly.

There’s a long while where nothing happens. Yo moves to knock again, but before her knuckles hit the wood, the door slowly creaks open, and a maid pokes her head out. Realizing the person at the door, the maid pushes the door open, and bows quickly at Yo.

“Lady Watanabe — you’re back!”

“Hey… I’m here to get ready for the banquet.” Yo grins, but the smile quickly fades away when she notices the maid’s expression. She’s nervous, apprehensive. Scared, even. “…What’s wrong?”

“Ah, erm… you should speak to Miss Sakurauchi.” The maid says, bowing her head. “She has the full details on the letter.”

“Letter? What letter?”

“I’m just a maid, Lady Watanabe, I’m not privy to the details…” She says apologetically. “Please, speak to Miss Sakurauchi. She can explain the situation much better than I can, I’m sure.”

“…That doesn’t sound good.” Yo glances at Yohane for a moment, and shrugs, stepping inside.

The interior of the mansion, is as expected, ridiculously opulent, with crystal chandeliers, grand staircases, and antique armor sets as far as the eye can see. Fancy paintings plaster the walls, and gold leaf filigree stretch from ceiling to floor.

“It’s… a little extra, I know…” Yo says quietly, continuing to be embarrassed as Yohane gapes at her familial wealth.

“A little?”

“…Okay, we have a fair bit of non-liquid treasure still… but whatever liquid currency we could spare, we’ve already put back into the territory’s maintenance!” Yo quickly says.

Yohane sighs, patting Yo on the shoulder. “I’m not judging you, I know you’re frugal by noble standards. I’m just… caught off guard, is all. You don’t act much like a noble’s daughter.”

Yo looks down at her dirty traveling tunic, and blushes. “I- I clean up nicely, I’ll have you know.”

“I’m sure.” Yohane smirks wryly.

Going up a set of grand stairs from the foyer, Yo leads Yohane past a long hallway with gold-framed, important looking paintings. As they walk past, Yohane steals glances at the paintings, and in particular, at the plaques describing the individuals in the paintings.

“Watanabe… Watanabe…” Yohane looks over to Yo. “Are these your ancestors?”

“They are,” Yo says proudly. “The Watanabe’s are an ancient family of knights and nobles. We can trace our lineage back to the founding of the kingdom.”

“Huh…”

Yohane looks over all the severe and stern looking men and women in military attire, sword at their hips and hands resting on the hilts. They all have the greyish brown hair that Yo has, and the same refined but fierce features.

Notably, though, none of them has blue eyes.

She stops at the end of the long row of paintings. The last painting is of a child, with blue eyes, and a bright smile. She has a too-large helmet over her head, and a sword at her side that’s too large for her to use. Beside that painting, a large, kindly looking man, wearing a breastplate over his formal uniform, and a short cropped haircut. There’s a striking resemblance between him and the girl.

“Is that…” Yohane gestures at the paintings.

“Yup!” Yo nods. “There’s me, ten years old. And… there’s my dad.”

Yohane looks over the painting. “He looks… nice.”

“He was a good man. A great knight, a good leader. …A kind, and loving father”

Ah. Was. Yohane bites her lip.

“He was set free in the siege of Eiderhall, where he sacrificed himself to kill the flag bearer of the Gnoll horde, personally putting an end to the war.” Yo breathes out slowly.

“He made me into the person I am now. Gave me the values I stand by. Taught me the sword skills that have helped me survive this far. Entrusted me with the illustrious Watanabe legacy to uphold.”

Yohane glances at Yo. “I’m sure he’d be proud of you.”

“Shucks…” Yo scratches the back of her head. “I’ve still got a long way to go…”

“You killed a chimera on your own, and you still have a long way to go?”

Yohane asks, dubiously. Yo laughs awkwardly, shrugging the question off.

Yohane shakes her head incredulously, and changes the subject. “So… your father doesn’t have blue eyes.”

Indeed - the Watanabe family has a tradition of stormy colored eyes, tending more towards grey or black than blue. Yo seems to be the exception, not the rule.

“Right. He doesn’t.”

Yo’s suddenly quiet, and gives Yohane a forced smile. “Let’s go. We shouldn’t keep Riko waiting.”

Surprised by her change in attitude, Yohane just nods and allows Yo to continue leading her onward. Passing by a few more opulent hallways, the two of them finally come across a set of unusually simple doors, compared to the rest of the mansion.

Yo knocks on the door. “We’re coming in, Riko.”

Pushing the door open, Yo peers inside, making sure she’s not interrupting. Yohane peeks in from behind her.

The room looks, for all intents and purposes, like a generic office, with a large work table, a chair, and many bookshelves holding tomes and scrolls undoubtedly containing important logistical information about running the territory. Sitting at the table is a haggard and tired looking Riko, looking up from a stack of parchment crammed full of legal writing.

“Yo…” She breathes out tiredly. “You’re back.”

“Oh god, you look like you haven’t slept in days. Is the situation that bad? I heard about some kind of letter from the maids…”

Yo walks up behind Riko, peering over her shoulder at the documents.

“A royal commandment?” She frowns, reading on. “Let’s see… ‘The Court recognizes your aptitude in the slaying of magical beasts and thus issue the greatest quest of all’…”

Her eyes widen. “To slay a dragon?!”

Yohane’s heart stops for a moment, and she rushes up too, scanning the document quickly.

“This… this is ridiculous! It’s impossible! A chimera is one thing, but dragons are… they’re… they’re dragons! They’re the apex predators! And they expect you to kill one on your own?”

Yohane scrutinizes the document. “Are you sure this is official?”

“That’s the court’s seal.” Riko says tiredly, pointing at a broken wax seal. “It’s legitimate.”

“But then…” Yohane swallows. “Then…”

Riko nods grimly. “Lady Watanabe is bound by oath to perform this impossible task.”

The two of them turn to look at Yo. She’s staring at the document, her hands gripping the edge of the table so hard that her knuckles have turned white. She notices the other two looking at her, and smiles shakily at them.

“W-What’s with the long faces? It’s just a dragon, right?”

Yo laughs airily, but Yohane can tell that she’s forcing herself to put up a front. “I guess that means the banquet is cancelled, huh?”

“…Unfortunately, yes.” Riko bows her head. “The Royal Court expects the expedition to start post haste.”

“Of course they do.” Yo smiles weakly, looking over the letter again. “So where am I expected to go?”

“The Eoland mountain range in the eastern territories. A week or so ride from here. According to the letter, a gold dragon is terrorizing the villages in the area, demanding tribute and eating livestock.” Riko looks up at Yo. “…Are you really planning to go fight the dragon, Yo?”

“I have to, Riko. You know I do.”

“You don’t.”

“I do.”

Yo and Riko glare at each other for a moment, locked in an invisible match of determination. In the end Riko folds, and looks away.

“Very well. I’ll arrange for supplies,” Riko says with a clipped tone. She stands up, and breezes past Yo, striding out of the room.

Yo stares at her leave for a moment before sighing. “Ah… she’s mad.”

“Of course she’s mad.” Yohane says quietly. “You’re marching to your own death, again.”

She pauses.

“Did you even tell Riko that you were going to hunt a chimera before you left?”

Yo bites her lower lip, before lowering her head. “…No. I didn’t want them to worry.”

“How did she react when you returned missing an arm?”

“…She was furious.” Yo admits. “Chika didn’t talk to me for a week, either.”

“And you’re surprised that she’s angry when you head into an even more suicidal situation?”

“Well, I…” Yo hesitates. “It’s not like I have a choice in the matter. I have my orders, and if I don’t act, the villagers—”

“Will be in danger, yes, I know.” Yohane sighs. “But look me in the eyes, and honestly tell me that you being there will make any difference at all in their situation. One more knight, even an exemplary one, isn’t going to do anything against a dragon.”

Yo balls her her hand up into a fist.

“…What am I supposed to do, then?”

She feels a sudden surge of anger - not at anyone but at herself, for being so weak and helpless that she allowed for this farce to happen. She grits her teeth, and turns to Yohane. “What should I do that won’t bring the court’s whole military might down on my friends and family? If you’re so wise, black witch of the grove, maybe you can come up with something that I haven’t, because I’ve had to deal with this for years, and I’m fresh out of ideas.”

She takes a shuddering breath, trying to keep her emotions under control. Slowly, the anger bleeds out of her frame, and she just slumps forward tiredly. There’s an exhausted expression on her face, and she suddenly seems so frail to Yohane, so delicate and fragile. Not a knight, or a hero. Just a girl, who’s been carrying an impossible burden for far too long.

“I don’t want to go. I don’t want to die. But if my family is to remain safe, I _have _to go.” Yo gives Yohane a drained look, and smiles weakly. “I’m tired, Yohane. I’m going to rest in my room. If you need anything, just tell the maids you’re my guest.”

With a slouch unfitting of a noble knight, Yo drags her feet as she leaves the office, leaving Yohane to stare at her with pursed lips and a frown.

Yo closes her bedroom door behind her, making sure it’s locked before throwing herself against her soft, plush bed and screaming into a pillow. She screams, and screams, and screams, pouring all of her rage and frustration into the noise until her voice goes hoarse and all she’s able to muster up is a strangled groan. When she’s not able to scream anymore, she simply buries her face against the pillow and pounds on the mattress with her fist.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Way to alienate her newfound companion.

Yo is under no illusions that she’s a normal girl, or anything, but the least she can do is not fall apart emotionally around her friends. She’s been able to keep up a strong front for Chika and Riko, who look to her as a leader as well as a friend, and the staff respect her family lineage too much to question her.

But Yohane… Yohane has a way of getting to her. Getting beneath that mask. Yohane has a knife-like perceptiveness to her that Yo just can’t hide from, despite the witch acting aloof at times.

She may have been the only one Yo could rely on for support, and now Yo’s even run away from her.

“You coward, Yo…”

She grits her teeth, balling up her hand into a fist. “In the end you couldn’t do anything else but bend to those bastards’ orders… So much for being a good leader…”

She breathes out, not even aware that the door is opening quietly behind her.

“…I think you’re a good leader.”

Yo’s breathing catches, and she jumps up, alert. Her hand shoots instinctively to her waist, before she realizes that she doesn’t have her sword with her — and that it’s just Yohane, leaning against the door frame.

She relaxes, breathing out explosively. “Gods, Yohane. You surprised me. How did you get past the lock?”

“Magic,” Yohane says, smirking.

Yo rolls her eyes. “Of course.”

She sits down heavily, slicking back her hair. “…Did you come here just to scare me witless, or did you want to talk about something else?”

Yohane waves her hand, and the door shuts itself quietly, the lock clicking into place on its own. Yo nods appreciatively - she’d rather not have anyone overhearing them.

“I’ve thought of a way for you to get out of this.” Yohane says, quietly.

Yo blinks, looking at Yohane sharply. “You… you do?”

“Well — I don’t know if you’ve thought of it before, but it’s what came to mind for me.”

Yohane walks over to the bed, sitting down next to Yo. She’s caught off guard by how soft the bed is for a moment, before regaining her composure.

“Can’t you just… run away? If you’re supposed to die anyway, you could just as easily run off somewhere. As long as you don’t catch the attention of the court, you could live a peaceful life out of sight.”

“Oh.” Yo looks down, mildly disappointed. “I’ve… thought of it. But then who would run the territory? And the people who actually need saving? Me running away doesn’t solve anything. It’s just selfish. Besides, where would I go? I have no relatives, no one I can trust not to sell me out to the court.”

“You could live with me,” Yohane suggests, idly. “We could be a family. Rebuild the coven. It’s not the first time our clan has accepted runaways into our fold. I like you, so I wouldn’t mind.”

“Ha. It’s almost like a fairy tale.” Yo says, smiling sadly. “Sweep me off my feet and we can live together, happily ever after. Aren’t I supposed to be the knight in shining armor?”

“I’m not joking, you know.”

Yo glances at Yohane, her brow furrowed. Yohane looks back at Yo with a calm, but serious, expression.

“I could easily hide you with my magic. You can even stay in touch with Chika and Riko. You can indirectly govern through them. The people would think you dead, but you can assume all the same responsibilities as you do now. You’d just be free. Free do to whatever you wish it.”

Yo stares at Yohane for a moment. “You… you can do that?”

Yohane nods. “You’d be more able to reach out to those in need, too. Without the shackles of nobility, you could be the hero you’ve always wanted to be. Think about it.”

Yo swallows. There’s suddenly a glimmer of hope in her eyes. Of course - Yohane introduces a whole new dimension to the situation. She now has magic on her side. She could do it. She really could.

Yo’s mouth feels dry.

Yohane leans closer to Yo, so the knight can practically smell Yohane’s fragrance. She smells like books, and herbs, and fresh morning dew, and the crisp winter breeze. It’s a strange combination of smells, but Yo doesn’t mind it.

Yo knows what she can do. What she wants to do.

“Come with me,” Yohane says, with a mischievous grin on her face. Her breath tickles Yo’s lips. She’s so close, and Yo finds herself entranced by her gaze, incapable of looking away. “Forget the dragon. Let’s run away. Start a new life in secret, away from prying eyes. You could be free.”

For years Yo’s wanted to do this. Just let go and leave, put down the burden she’s shouldered for so painfully long.

She almost leans in, almost closes the distance between them.

But then she stops, and shakes her head.

Yohane, seeing that, leans back, giving Yo a questioning look.

“I… can’t.”

Yohane furrows her brow. “Why? Why can’t you? You realize that this is your only way out, right?”

“I just…”

Yo takes a deep breath. “I made a promise.”

“Is this your knightly oath again?” Yohane grumbles, crossing her arms.

“It’s not just a knightly oath…”

Yo has that tone of voice again, the same one she had when she was talking about her father. Yohane tenses up, sensing a change in the atmosphere of the conversation.

“I mentioned that I made the oath to the former queen, right?”

Yohane nods. She remembers Yo telling her that when they first met.

Yo takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. “The former queen of Ura is… was… my mother.”

Yohane’s eyes widen. Suddenly, everything makes sense. She’s heard that the former queen has eyes as blue as the sea, and she never married.

“She died when I was young - it was an assassination, according to my father, but the Court passed it off as a natural sickness. Before she died, she made me promise that I would grow up to be someone who could protect Ura and her people, in a way that she never could.” Yo says quietly.

“I… I can’t remember much about her anymore. I can’t even remember the sound of her voice. But I do remember sitting by her bed, and swearing on my knight’s honour that I would do everything I could to protect the people. And I remember that she looked so happy when I said that.”

“So, knowing that my hands - my hand - can still reach someone, and not reaching for them…” Yo shakes her head. “I can’t do that. I let my own mother die in front of me. I’m not letting anyone else suffer because I wanted to run away.”

“Yo…”

Yohane murmurs her name quietly, and finally, nods. “I… I understand.”

Yo smiles faintly. “Sorry. I really do appreciate the offer, but… I can’t stop. Not yet.”

“Ah~ I guess a happily ever after with Yo will have to wait, then.” Yohane pouts.

Yo blushes, but she nods. “I’m going to try and fight the dragon. Who knows? Maybe I’ll manage to put a dent in it and convince it to leave.”

Yohane is doubtful of it, but she doesn’t say anything.

“I’m… sorry for getting you all the way out here, only for the banquet to be cancelled.” Yo says ruefully, scratching the back of her head. “I’ll get Riko to prepare a horse for you to head home. Do you need an escort?”

Yohane frowns. “What are you saying? I’m not heading home.”

“Huh?”

Yo looks questioning at Yohane, who smirks.

“If you’re going to go fight a dragon, I’m going with you.” Yohane says.

“After all, you’re going to need all the help you can get.”

Yohane didn’t expect to be on the road again so soon. But here she is, desperately clinging to a charging warhorse, trying to keep pace with Yo who is infinitely better with horse riding. About to go slay a dragon.

“I’m sorry you got wrapped up in all this,” Yo says.

Yohane glances over to Yo, who is (dangerously) riding her horse with her head turned towards Yohane, and shakes her head.

“I’m doing this of my own volition. As I said, you’ll need all the help you can get if you don’t want to die.”

Yo laughs dryly, turning back to focus on the road. “I’m hard to kill, you’ll find.”

Yohane shakes her head disbelievingly, and urges her horse onwards to match Yo’s pace. She omitted the real reason why she’s following after Yo — because, against all odds, she’s fallen for the knight, and there’s no way Yohane’s letting Yo die on her before she’s getting that across.

When Yohane offered to let Yo stay with her, she told a slight lie. It’s true that her coven sometimes takes in runaways. But never do they take in runaways with no magical potential, as Yo does.

But if it’s for the woman she loves, it should be fine, right?

Yohane prays to the spirits of her ancestors, hoping granny Baba won’t come and haunt her because she’s sweet on a girl from outside of the coven.

Especially because granny Baba was one ugly woman, and Yohane doesn’t want to see her in her sleep.

She’s so preoccupied by Baba’s wrinkly face that she doesn’t even realize Yo is talking until a few words in.

“—Thanks.”

Yohane blinks, looking towards Yo. “Um, what?”

“Well, I…” Yo licks her lips, her eyes looking firmly ahead, not meeting Yohane’s eyes. “I just wanted to say thank you. For coming with me.”

Yohane sighs. “I already said it’s fine, didn’t I?”

“You did, but I just wanted to be clear.”

Yo breathes in. “I’m… scared, Yohane. I’m scared and I’m tired. The Court wants my head on a pole because of my potential to retake the throne, and they’ve made numerous attempts at my life already. Assassination. War. Now these suicidal runs. There’s little doubt that I’m probably going to die this time.”

“Yo…”

“I… don’t have much more fight in me. But even then, I don’t want to die.” Yo mutters, her voice a bare whisper. “So for me to face the end of my journey with dignity… I need someone with me.”

Yohane stares at Yo for a moment, before shaking her head and speaking up, with a calm but firm voice.

“You’re not going to die. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

She puffs up her chest. “I’m a great black witch, after all.”

Yo chuckles, smiling despite her previous nervousness. “I’m counting on you, then.”

Yohane puffs up her chest proudly, and they continue to ride. They have a long journey ahead of them.

Eventually, night falls. The cold winds sweep in from the north, forcing them to find shelter. They make camp, huddling in a canvas-and-fur tent that only keeps a little of the cold out. They cuddle some more. Yo is warm and comfortable and has an ungodly toned physique that puts Yohane’s skinny, soft body to shame, though Yo assures Yohane that she’d rather have Yohane’s physique than her own. She says it’s a sign of prosperity, to have the privilege to be soft.

Yohane thinks Yo is just being nice, but curling up to her, and being held in her arms (just as she’s holding Yo in her’s) it seems a bit of a moot point, and Yohane decides to just go to sleep.

The next morning they set off, bright and early. That night, they make camp again. The pattern repeats itself for the next few days, as they make the crawl across the map towards the Eoland mountain range in the east.

Finally, they reach the edge of the kingdom of Ura. The mountains tower before them, and the acrid smell of smoke is strong in the air. They pass by many burnt down sections of forest and even burnt buildings. Yo stops sometimes to stare at the charred remains of small villages, bowing her head mournfully.

“The dragon has to be nearby.” She murmurs, spurring her horse on. Yohane nods - the signs are clear.

Though, oddly enough, she hasn’t seen any people, or even corpses. When Yohane points that out, Yo frowns ponderously, staring out into the wilderness.

“Do you think it’s the dragon’s doing?” Yo wonders out loud, glancing at Yohane. “Taking all the bodies? Or… sparing them?”

“What used would a dragon have for bodies, though?” Yohane says, until she reaches a sickening realization. “Unless… it’s for food…”

Yo grimaces at the thought, but doesn’t comment on it, instead drawing her sword and cantering onward.

“We should find the dragon’s lair before it gets dark.” She says.

Yohane nods quickly, and follows after her.

It doesn’t take long for the two of them to track the trail burnt objects to their source - a blackened and scorched cave entrance, unnaturally carved from a granite cliff, with great rents in the stone like blades have been dragged across the rock face. It’s huge, taller even than Yo’s mansion, and wide enough to easily fit five or six wagons side by side.

All the trees surrounding the rock face are brunt down to their bare trunks, and the ground is stained black by soot and ash. The air is acrid and dry, and heat rolls off of the cave in waves, making it hard to even breathe.

Yo gulps, looking deep into the darkness of the cave. Her heart is pounding out a frantic drumbeat, and she grips the hilt of her sword nervously. The yawning darkness seems to gaze back, the jagged stones like gnashing teeth, about to devour her whole.

She takes a step, then stops, trying to will herself to take another step. But her muscles have locked up, and she’s struggling to even take a breath in her nervousness.

This is it. If she goes in now…

She might not come back.

She forces herself to take another step, and already it’s like the heat is threatening to suffocate her. She shivers for a moment despite the blistering heat radiating out from the cave.

Before she can take another step, though, Yohane grabs her wrist from behind.

“Wait.”

Yo turns around questioningly.

Yohane swallows, her words coming out in stammers. “You- You can still walk away from this. You don’t have to do this.”

It’s selfish of her to ask Yo of this now. Now of all times.

But Yohane has the crushing suspicion that if she doesn’t extend this final offer now - she won’t get the chance to later.

“If you do this- You’ll die.” She takes a steadying breath, and continues. “I… beg you. Just… come with me. Don’t do this to yourself. You don’t have to do this.”

Her grip on Yo’s wrist tightens.

“My magic isn’t strong enough to protect the both of us against a dragon. If anything happened to you… I couldn’t… I can’t…”

Words fail her. She tries to speak, but none come out.

She can’t stop now. How is she going to communicate the magnitude of the feelings she has tangled up right now? There’s no way she can express even a hair of the things she wants to say to Yo—

Then a desperate idea hits her.

She bites back tears for a moment, and in a spur-of-the-moment decision, she deftly tilts Yo’s chin up and kisses her, full on the lips.

Yo’s eyes widen for a moment in surprise, and Yohane wonders briefly if she’s going to be rejected, but to her eternal relief, she relaxes a moment later, closing her eyes and pushing closer into the kiss. Yo lips are soft, and cooler that Yohane had expected. There’s the faintest tint of orange - Yohane recalls her peeling them throughout the trip. It’s a bittersweet flavour, but Yohane doesn’t mind it so much.

For now, though - Yohane closes her eyes, allowing herself to be engulfed in the sensation of the kiss. Yohane’s hands find their way behind Yo, one cradling the back of her head, one at her hip. Not to be shown up, Yo reaches and runs her hand through Yohane’s hair, feeling the strands part between her fingers like flowing silk. Yohane feels like her chest is going to explode, a dizzying warmth spreading throughout her body. The sensation is exhilarating, addictive even, and she wonders how she’s managed to survive this long without the feeling of Yo’s lips on hers in her life.

Eventually, reluctantly, shortness of breath forces them to break apart, their chests rising and falling as they breathe heavily.

“Please,” Yohane chokes out, before tears start falling, rolling down her cheeks in hot beads. “Don’t go.”

Yo breathes in, and brings Yohane close, resting her forehead against Yohane’s.

“I… I have to go, Yohane.” Yo murmurs. Yohane closes her eyes, feeling her heart shatter a little.

“…But I’m not going to die.”

Yohane opens her eyes again.

“I won’t die, so I can properly respond… okay? So… wait for me. You don’t have to risk yourself any further.” Yo draws herself up to her full height, and smiles confidently. “This is my duty, after all.”

She reaches and pats Yohane on the head, before drawing her sword, taking a deep breath.

“I’m going to go kill a dragon.”

Yohane starts to smile, before her expression quickly turns to abject horror.

Yo whirls around to look behind her.

A pair of golden eyes stare down at the two of them, accompanied by an innumerable glittering of golden light. There’s a row of knife-like teeth, and a flickering tongue of flame. A slithering tail, tipped with golden spines. A set of glittering, sail-like wings, stretching from one side of the cave to another.

“That’s adorable.”

A rumbling voice, like the voice of the earthquake itself, speaks up, shaking Yo to the core.

“And how to you propose you do that?”

A leering, serpentine face lowers itself from the shadowed ceiling of the cave, peering at Yo with slitted eyes. “Are you going to use that little toothpick? Wow~ I haven’t met some this brave in years.”

It suddenly leans very close, with a burst of speed that Yo could barely anticipate. “Or is that just stupidity?”

A puff of hot air assaults Yo’s face before she can so much as step back, as the dragon exhales directly onto Yo. It’s like getting blasted by a scalding desert wind, and Yo is almost certain the topmost layer of her skin is already thoroughly cooked.

But Yo grits her teeth, and pushes through the heat, bringing her sword to bear and slicing straight down onto the dragon’s face. The blade sings as it slices through the air, and with a clean shlick, marks a deep cut on the dragon’s cheek.

“Ouch!” The dragon rears back up, gingery cradling its cut lip. The sight of the gargantuan beast holding itself is so absurdly comical that Yo finds it terrifying. With a great deal more caution this time, it peers at Yo, her sword in particular. “Is that… dragonbane on that sword? Oooh, I haven’t seen _that _in a while. That must mean one of you knows magic…”

It trains its gaze onto Yohane, who takes a reflexive step back. “Is it the pretty one back there? It’s her, isn’t it?”

Yo steps forward, trying her best to be intimidating in the face of a creature many times her size. “You leave her alone! I’m your opponent!”

“Oh, you’re adorable.” The dragon simpers, letting out a small lick of flame from its nostrils. It sighs dramatically, and leans back, resting its chin on its claws. “You know, I don’t even feel like eating you anymore. I graciously allow you to leave in peace.”

“W-What do you mean?”

“Ah, anyone’s appetite would be ruined after a show like that… Kya~~ Oh lady knight, I cannot live without you!” The dragon suddenly puts on a startlingly accurate falsetto of Yohane’s voice. Its voice then shifts a little lower, to an imitation of Yo’s voice. “Don’t worry, amore mio, I will protect you…”

The dragon proceeds to make kissy noises against the back of its own claw. Yo blushes bright red, swinging her sword angrily.

“You heard us? I mean - We didn’t sound like that!”

“You were right in front of my lair - what’s a girl to do?” The dragon - A she-dragon, apparently - chuckles throatily. “So, you’re not going to leave?” She grins, revealing the chilling sight of her rows of dagger point teeth. “The offer is still open.”

Yo is sorely tempted to do as the dragoness says, but she steels her nerves and shakes her head. “I cannot. You are a threat to the kingdom of Ura and her people. I must ask you leave - or I must kill you.”

The dragon is silent for a few long moments before starting again.

“Okay, I think we got off on the wrong claw here.” The dragon slowly extends a claw at Yo. It takes a solid five seconds for Yo to realize she’s offering a hand-shake. “My name is Mari. You are?”

Without hesitation, Yo cuts off the tip of the claw.

“Ow! What was that for?” The dragon whines, withdrawing the claw quickly. She examines the nail, peering at the edge of it. “Ooh, you actually cut it quite nicely…”

“That was for your crimes against the people of Ura - for those you have killed, and those whose livelihoods you’ve destroyed!”

The dragon tilts her head in a way that might indicate confusion. “I’ve never killed anyone, though? I don’t like human meat anyway, and spitting fire makes my throat hurt - the most I’ve done is steal a cow from somewhere, and we had a pleasant conversation after that… then I let it go.”

“But…” Yo frowns. “The burning outside?”

“Oh! Those old things,” Mari waves a claw dismissively. “Some guys in metal armor came along with torches. They also brought me all this gold, and asked nicely if I could stay put.”

She shifts her body, revealing a sizeable mound of treasures behind her.

Yohane’s expression darkens, and she exchanges a look with Yo. “The Court…”

“Those bastards…”

Yo is shaking with anger, now no longer directed at the dragon. She grips her sword tightly, grinding her teeth together in her fury.

“They’d burn the lands of their own people, just to get rid of me…?”

She breathes out slowly, and turns to Yohane. “We’re leaving.”

“Eh?”

“It’s over.” Yo gives Yohane a soft smile. “It’s time for me to disappear.”

She turns back to the dragon, giving her a deep bow. “I’m terribly sorry. It seems there’s been a misunderstanding. You’re not a threat to the people of this region, are you?”

“Not unless they’re here to steal my bling,” Mari shrugs.

“Then I apologize for attacking you so recklessly. That’s entirely my mistake.”

She straightens up, and looks up at the dragon. “If the knights of the Court ever return, could you please tell them you’ve eaten me?”

“Ah, well, you’re not really my type,” the dragon chuckles. “But sure - I’m fine with that.”

Yo holds out her hand to Yohane. Yohane stares at it for a moment before taking her hand shyly. She glances at the dragon, and gives her a polite nod. “Then we’ll be leaving. Please take care, Miss Mari.”

“Don’t get lost, lovebirds,” Mari calls out, as they turn to leave the cave.

Yo chuckles, and shakes her head as they step out into the warm glow of the setting sun.

“Are you going to stop for real, this time?” Yohane asks, turning to look at Yo.

“Yeah. I’m getting tired.” Yo sighs, staring ahead at the golden sky. “I just want peace and quiet now.”

Yohane nods, and hesitates slightly before shyly asking, “Are… are you going to come and live with me now?”

Yo’s only response is her leaning over and giving Yohane a kiss on the cheek.

Yohane’s face goes red, and she looks away, though she continues to hold Yo’s hand tightly.

“Ah,” Yo says, remembering something. “You’ll have to move house a little, though.”

“Eh? Why?”

“Because, I don’t want to become a moldy mushroom living underground.”

“Ah, but it’s a pain to move…”

“I’ll help! We can get a cottage by a lake, or something. Live there, get a garden farm going.”

“Are you sure you’ll do the work? I don’t want to end up being the one who does everything…”

“Well, I guess we don’t have to decide right now…”

Yo breathes out, feeling as though a great weight has lifted from her shoulders.

“After all, I’m disappearing for a long, long time.”

She grins at Yohane, and leans in for a kiss.