#witch and her feline companion...?!

[aikakyu]

[the-sunhold-coven]

The Sunhold Coven

This is the writing blog for my WIP, I'll try to update about once every to every other month depending on how long the updates take.

Summary:

It has been over a decade since the plague swept the nation of Korim, claiming folks both young and old, fit and frail. No cure either magical or alchemical could stem the tide. The silent streets were filled with corpses, and the people were scared, searching for an explanation. So their heads turned to those who remained unaffected by the plague, the magic folk of Korim.

Soon all magic folk were persecuted, shifters, nymphs and witches were killed in droves. Now only a few remain.

You are one. A witch.

Traverse the land of Korim in a fight for your survival.

Make new friends and possibly romance one of six companions.

Rebuild the old coven.

Companions and RO's

Alarik:

Alarik grew up on the tales of witches. Self-serving and power hungry with no exceptions is how you were portrayed and that is what he believed. He has always been driven by a need to protect those he around him. The hound that accompanies Alarik is called Lady.

He is a very tall man with an athletic physique. His eyes are the telltale silver of the Witch hunters, and the streak of white in his hair barely visible against the platinum blonde. His features are stern and severe softened only by the stubble on his jaw

Midora:

Midora is a forest nymph with a profound love for all that grows and blooms. Despite having seen the worst of people, she still always chooses to believe the best. She values loyalty and kindness above all else.

Everything about her appearance seems soft, her short and curvy body, her round face and hazel doe eyes. Long oak brown braid fall down to her hips, gradually becoming a moss green. She almost always braids in little flower into her hair, kept alive by her magic.

Felina:

Felina is a feline shifter. Her other shape is that of a lynx. She keeps most at a distance and claims she prefers solitude, but her eyes will soften as she sees something small and vulnerable.

Felina's pale human shape still bares some cat-like features, with sharp amber eyes and button nose framed by her chin length brown hair. She is of average height with lean, ropey muscles.

Caden:

Caden is a lupine shifter, his other form that of a great black wolf. He is a man that struggles to stay silent, his playful manner occasionally bordering on juvenile.

His human form is of average height, muscled and strong. His features are sharp and angular, his yellow eyes almost always lined with kohl, and a mop of wavy black hair atop his head.

???- Unknown

???- Unknown

Links:

Forum post:

The WIP:

[saintfelina]

it girl: feline familiar

for @vampyr3wife

not the witch, but her cuddly companion. the one she dotes on and pets as she brews her potions. sure you get into her herbs and poultices but she knows you're just curious. you're her perfect, mysterious kitty.

lotion: practical magick face & body milk is a rosemary and lavender scented moisturizer that soothes the skin. the scent is reminiscent of an apothecary of sorts.

perfume oil: hexennacht purr is like shifting into your fuzzy form. it's notes of yarn, milky kitten breath, musk and tonka bean gives it the vibe of a spoiled kitten cozied in her witch's hut.

perfume: givenchy ange ou demon is a warm spicy scent. perfectly witchy and mysterious. sometimes you wanna be the witch and her cat, changing forms mysteriously and leaving a spicy vanilla scent in your wake. this ties it all together to be a spiced milk scent with an air of flowers surrounding it.

[l0stfoster]

Hi!! so I know u said that paul has a cat familiar and I was curious about how witches actually get a familiar and how that works within the cursed au! like are they just an animal companion or do they have special abilities?

obsessed with the cursed au I love it so much🫶

Witch familiars in this AU are a mix of two things; their physical being is a manifestation of the witches' power, but their being in itself is something of a spirit. After a witch's power manifests, the familiar itself will appear sometime afterward. Paul's likely appeared way back when he was a kid, but his parents actively kept her away until their attempt to repress his power threw her into a sort of remission as well. She returned when he got his magic back, but he didn't get to see her until he was kicked out and she slipped out and followed. The familiars are typically small animals like cats, owls, toads, etc; the most common kind for Paul's bloodline is a feline. They usually have their own personalities too. Paul's mother would've had a familiar too, but she actively acted to force it out of existence permanently using her magic. It's probably good to mention that she's a really powerful witch. All that hate manifests really well into your magic, especially since their magic is tied to emotions as well. In Paul's case with Umbra, she assists with his fuckass magical tasks, provides some protection to him, or just aids in his spellcasting by channeling energy n giving him guidance as needed. However, Paul's very independent by nature, and so she commonly settles to sit off to the side and look pretty. She's also just,, a little distracting, likes her attention. Paul can channel his magic into her and vice versa; she can leech onto his energy through her own free will as well- we've discussed multiple instances where she can physically grow or shrink in size depending on the intent of the magic as well if that makes sense. I've got art plans for that. She abides by a lot of the stereotypical cat behavior, so people usually forget what she really is until she acts out. It's hard to remember this is an entire magical being, one partially made up of unstable witch magic until you've got this BEAST of a feline towering over you for even daring to look at her human with malicious intent. She's very protective of him.

[maryhale1]

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

In the enchanting realm where spells unfold, a witch and her black cat shared a story untold.

Under the crescent moon's soft glow, they wove a tapestry of love that would forever grow.

Through potions brewed and secrets shared, their mystical connection was beyond compare.

In the whispers of ancient spells, her love for the feline companion dwelled.

Together they navigated the magical unknown, a duo in the moonlit shadows, love sown.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[verity-hollow]

a stray cat walks by. when it notices the motionless doll, it startles at first, running away, but eventually, cautiously, it returns, and, after assuring itself that the doll is no threat, lays a fish it caught before it, and disappears again.

The doll is able to properly greet a visitor for the first time since it entered its stasis, bowing its head slightly to the cat. This visitor is a shy one, darting behind a corner at the doll's smallest movement. The doll understands, some creatures are more comfortable when their companions are still. It resumes its statuesque repose, hoping its timid guest will chance a second approach. A short time later its patience is rewarded when the feline pads into view again with a gift for the doll held in its teeth. Something the doll can make into a meal for its witch--

Does it have a witch? The doll ponders. It can't remember, its motionless sleep has left some memories blurry, and some may be gone entirely. It remembers a house, but not a witch. Perhaps, if it recovers its strength, it can find that house. Maybe a witch will be there, maybe that witch is the doll's witch, or another witch who would take it in and make it her's. The doll tries to put those thoughts aside. Such hopes can wait until its strength returns. It liftsits arm to give the cat some affectionate pets as way of thanks, but the creature had already left as silently as it came.

The motionless doll has been left with these trinkets: A small piece of gold, two buttons and a length of ribbon, a plastic token for a free hug, a sword, two screws and a drop of oil, stories from a small doll, the time and company of an absent doll, and a fish.

[rozeliyawashereyall]

Liya rant let's fucking go

Again! Little reminder Liya is a separate character from me, Roze! I've just been using her a pfp because I didn't have one for ME y'know?— also, there's lot of Greek mythology references but I don't care let me make my OCs in peace goddamit

Basics first—

Her full name is Liya "Minthe" Noor! Hehe

Birthday is on the 29th of October

She/They pronouns

A genderfluid lad :3

She isn't human per se... but a nymph! An underworld water one ^_^ (a Naiad basically–)

Ethnicity is greek-egyptian! Can speak Arabic, English, and Demotic Greek :3 (and just a lil bit of Armenian)

Just a silly gal looking for a home after being cast out by her father

Mbti is INFP-T

Now, Liya Noor.. I have so much lore on them i might need to make a separate post!

Let's get straight to the point~

Minthe can exist anywhere she wants. Whether it be in a different universe, an audio RP (hehe), or in a game. With just a ring of her bell, she'll be teleported there to lurk from the shadows.

The underworld is surrounded by a series of rivers: The Acheron, river of woe. The Cocytus, river of lamentation. The Phlegethon, river of fire. The Styx, river of unbreakable oath. and The Lethe, river of forgetfulness. <- Liya was created by Cocytus, along with her sisters.

Year is 1683

After being assigned to go collect a human soul for the first time, she accidentally fell in love with the mortal land, getting distracted by it. So instead of collecting the soul of the dead human so they could properly pass, they instead started touring around, watching the markets, stage shows, etc. completely forgetting about her mission.

Unfortunately for Minthe, her forgetting to collect the soul caused a..slight troublesome event for the mortals. Since the soul wasn't harvested, the body was still alive despite the heart no longer beating, causing quite a freakout in the city, which led to a lot of crazy theorists rioting and semi still sane people leaving the land.

After her father found out about Minthe's terrible mistake, he cast her out of their home, with a quest on her hands.

"prove you're still worthy to call yourself a child of mine, and you shall return. Fail, and you'll be drowned in the river of Lethe, forever to forget."

The problem was...he never told her what her quest was. He basically just told her to "fuck around, find out, and pray I agree."

A year later. Minthe was travelling along the mortal land in the late 16th century of Scotland, searching for a clue to what her quest was, when she met a woman in her early 20s, her name was Liya.

They befriended each other quite fast! Uh, before Liya was hanged and then burned at the stake for the accusation of being a witch. Yeah, that messed up Minthe up quite a bit.

After that sad event, she named herself Liya, as a little momentum to her friend, and an almost rebellious act towards her father.

Year is 1832

After almost 200 years of pointless searching, Liya finally relented and went back down to the underworld to ask what her quest even was

On her way to the underworld. Liya meets a kitten! A cute, slightly injured one. She takes the feline under her wing, planning to soak the cat in the river of Styx so it'll live an immortal life with her! Just like how Thetis did to her son, Achilles.

Now, walking from the mortal realm to the underworld is a long, long way, taking almost 5 years by just walking. So instead Liya decides to find a shrine of Hermes, to ask him to guide her into the realm of the undead. But after searching and searching, she found all the shrines...but the ones dedicated to Hermes.

In a fit of frustration, she destroyed a shrine dedicated to the goddess of Spring, angering her badly.

In punishment, she cursed them. Killing her feline companion, and making a mint plant grow inside of her stomach. Forcing Liya to endure a century of suffocation from the plant, but never dying of it.

Ah- that's all for now, I'll probably make a part 2 of this one day.

But for now you get this!!

[esserisupremi-a]

Character Information: Bonnie Shelia Athena Rose Bennett-Dandridge

Bonnies birthday is February 5th. She is currently 32 years old and works as a teachers assistant, working with witches' and warlocks who have both autism and dyslexia.

Her mother is Abagail Bennett ( Bennett witch turned vampire ) and her father Vincent Dandridge ( warlock turned whitelighter after death ). She was born to both in Mystic Falls, Virginia. Her grams relocated before she started middle school so now she lives in Capeside, North Carolina.

She has a younger sister named Brittney. They are a year a part and share the same birthday.

After being abandoned by her father, mother and step-father, Bonnie ( and Brittney ) was left to be raised by her grams and gramps.

Bonnie is not only a Bennett witch but also a white - lighter. She’s actually trying to adjust to her growing powers as one

Quite recently Bonnie and Brittney found out about the sovereign side of their paternal family. Bonnie continues to be in denial ( unlike her sister ) about it.

Bonnie has a feline companion named Rajah. He was a gift from Lucy to help with her abandonment problems.

Bonnie loves plants. Granted, she also loves flowers but plants are what she collects the most.

As selfless as she is, Bonnie has learned how to say no over the years ( with the help of her sister Brittney and cousin Lucy ). Being used by ex’s and friends, she had enough and simply decided no more.

Her grimoire is her favourite book. She loves to learn about and create new spells.

From her gramps, Bonnie learned how to cook various of things. From breakfast dishes to dinner entrees.

Also from her gramps Bonnie learned how to play the piano and guitar.

Her favorite Disney movie is Aladdin.

Bonnie is allergic to parsley, wolfsbane, almonds, bees ( but she loves them ) and frogs.

She loves nature documentaries. Ones about creatures in the ocean will have her the most tuned in.

She is a hopeless romantic. It takes a special someone to unlock that part of her heart.

[nihonnojihifukainomajonoseiiki]

How did your cat Kurome become your familiar? What made you consider her as magical?

Kurome became my familiar in a way that felt destined. From the moment I adopted her, I noticed a deep, almost otherworldly connection between us. Over time, I started noticing peculiar things—like how Kurome seemed to sense my emotions even when I tried to hide them. She would stay close during my spellwork, especially protection and love spells, and her presence would always bring a unique warmth to the ritual.

I consider Kurome magical not just because of her uncanny intuition, but also because of her connection to nature and energy. Black cats have long been associated with witches, but she goes beyond the lore. Kurome has a knack for grounding me when my energy feels scattered, and I’ve often felt that she amplifies the intention behind my magic. It’s as though she chose me just as much as I chose her.

Kurome is more than just a companion—she’s a link to the mystical, a guardian spirit in feline form. Her sleek black coat and her piercing eyes feel like a mirror to the unknown, a constant reminder of the magic all around us.

[girlmagazineedits]

The History of The "Crazy Cat Lady"

Have you ever wondered why the term “crazy cat lady” applies to women and men's phrase is a “man’s best friend”? Like many societal stereotypes, this one is simply rooted in sexism.

The typical "cat lady" is often portrayed as eccentric, isolated, and surrounded by multiple cats, a symbol of her loneliness. Meanwhile, dogs, often seen as the "man's best friend," are portrayed as loyal, loving, and sociable—qualities that align with traditional gender roles.

You know the saying that goes people who don’t like cats have no aspect of boundaries, well the same applies. It's an interesting observation when you compare cats and dogs. Cats are known for being selective about who they trust, often staying distant or aloof from strangers while dogs are eager to greet and slobber over anyone. This comparison of dogs and cats can be used as an analogy to women and men. Men, like dogs, are encouraged to be outgoing and approachable, while women, like cats, are criticized for their independence and boundaries.

But let’s take a trip back in time, the association between cats and women wasn’t always negative. In ancient Egypt, cats were praised and worshipped, representing femininity. The goddess Bastet, depicted as a woman with the head of a lioness, later associated directly with cats and fertility, Bastet embodied both the nurturing and fierce sides of womanhood.

However, during medieval Europe, cats began to take on a more sinister role as patriarchal society sought to suppress feminine power. Cats, particularly black ones, were increasingly linked to witches, who in reality were women who defied traditional gender roles by rejecting marriage, motherhood, and domesticity. Witches were believed to have the ability to shapeshift into cats, and the feline companions of these women were thought to assist in their magic abilities. This is why black cats became associated with evil and bad luck, especially during Halloween, a time when the myths and fears surrounding witches were amplified.

In ancient literature and imagery, like in Shakespeare's "Macbeth", witches were often depicted with their feline companions.

So, the next time you hear the term "crazy cat lady," remember it's more than just a modern stereotype, it's a reflection of centuries of cultural and societal judgments targeted against women.

[the-perverse-library]

Hellen, how’s Polterkitty been doing?

The lavender-skinned ghost smiled softly as she lay on an expensive ruby lounge, stretched out one of her hands, and watched as Polterkitty erupted out of a nearby shadow. The shapeshifting spectre had been her oldest and closest companion since before the wicked witch of a woman had become a ghost. She ran her fingers over Polterkitty's ear and scratched his chin, causing the kitty to purr and rub against her. "My favourite little pussy has been doing well," Hellen said as she watched her gorgeous familiar change, swelling into its true form.

"We have slipped away from that garish imp of a doctor and that... plumber," Hellen remarked, barely keeping her gorgeous appearance from warping under her rage. Polterkitty stretched, revealing his multiple tails and massive, monstrous member. "As for what he's been doing since our illustrious escape from those buffoons, well... we've been keeping each other entertained."

Hellen couldn't help but chuckle as she felt Polterkitty's tails snatch her off her plush sofa and held her aloft in the air. A swipe with a deft paw turned her dress into tatters as the hulking feline nuzzled and licked at her breasts. "Hehehe, as you can see, we found a pastime we both enjoy." Hellen nuzzled against Polterkitty, giving him a kiss on the cheek before the needy yokai slammed deep into her moist folds.

[curseoftheundeadraven]

Demons and Dandelions, Part Two

part one is here!

(both are sfw)

Summary: Slowly, Cedar and Ashir's fondness for each other continues to grow. All the while, Cedar is still troubled by nightmares as she begins the fight to reconnect with her purpose and work through her grief.

I wish I could say that was the end of Ashir’s...misbehavior. Even after such a display, he remained callous more often than not, his mind still seemingly screaming that this was simply all a trick. I could sympathize with one’s mind being clouded so. His occasional acts of nocturnal kindness continued, though they were back to just being given tea – often accompanied by grumbling and complaints. His torment remained little more than a harmless annoyance though at times his biting remarks still drew blood. Yet I could see it on his face each time, that his venom was nearly reflexive, something he had begun to display clear guilt over. Despite his slightly volatile nature, I found some comfort in the fact that my nightmares had waned somewhat, granting me moments of respite from the twisted memories that plagued my sleep.

Furthermore, I finally summoned the courage to read Miera’s letter, though I nearly couldn’t bring myself to complete it. Her words reverberated in my mind day in and day out as I went about my usual routine. 

“You are drowning, yet still refuse to swim. You will only sink deeper until you find your resolve”.

The weight of her message hung heavily upon me, a constant reminder of the choices I had yet to make.

Of course, to further add to my unrest, there was an unexpected surge in visitors to the forest, much to Ashir’s dismay. This wasn’t uncommon, certain times of the year often led more people to my door seeking remedies or wards of some kind. He despised their intrusion, but fortunately, refrained from bothering them. Save a few times, such as when he took the form of a hawk and cawed loudly every time I opened my mouth to speak, much to the amusement of the startled guests. And the bemusement of my patience. 

Early on a crisp autumn morning, a resounding knock reverberated at my door—a knock that felt more like an intrusive pounding. With a slight sense of urgency, I hurried downstairs, my steps echoing in my wake. As I reached the door, I discovered Ashir peering curiously through the drapes. Waving him away, I opened the door to behold a man of towering stature, his visage a canvas of pale skin adorned with freckles and scars. His red locks were messily secured in a bun and his arms staunchly crossed.

“Oh, please come in,” I extended the door wider and welcomed him as I spoke. However my attention was quickly stolen when I turned to discover that a cat had made its home on my island counter, sitting up and watching, tail swaying back and forth. A white feline, with black paws and beady black eyes. With a determined and annoyed glare, I attempted to shoo Ashir off the counter, but he defiantly hissed and held his ground.

“That’s an odd-looking cat,” the man remarked in a deep, gravelly voice, breaking the silence. His voice was full of intrigue but he caused me to startle ever so slightly. 

“Ah, well,” I began as I searched for an explanation, “…it would be quite peculiar for a witch to have an ordinary pet, wouldn't it?' The man’s expression remained unchanged and I continued with an idea forming in my mind, “He's truly a wonderful companion. His name is... Muffin,' I declared as I threw a smug smile Ashir’s way, 'Isn't that right, Muffin? Although I affectionately call him Muffy.' A playful, or perhaps demeaning, baby voice accompanied my words – much to Ashir's dismay. His fur stood on end as he shot me a look that proved my success in getting under his skin.

Maintaining my pleasant demeanor, I guided my guest towards a seat at the table. However, he shook his head, opting instead to remain standing, arms still crossed and expression still cold. 

"What can I do for you?" I inquired. He remained silent for a moment, his eyes scanning the room, taking in the array of jars and bottles that adorned the shelves. While he observed his surroundings, I took the opportunity to study him. His clothing had clearly seen much wear and tear but held up regardless. A formidable knife hung at his waist, and a massive backpack weighed heavily on his shoulders. My eyes immediately found the crossbow strapped to it and I noticed a copious amount of rope. As I took a step closer I gazed at his scars to find that a majority of them were slashes, typically three to four scars running parallel to each other. Panic fluttered within me as I realized my spellbook was still upstairs. A chill crept over me and my heart quickened its pace. I discreetly ensured that my arcane focus was on my person, although a nagging voice in the back of my mind warned me that it did not matter.

"I wanted to have a discussion about the unique creatures that inhabit this forest," he finally spoke, and in an instant, my smile vanished. But, I took a deep breath, forced my smile to return, and replied, 

"Are you referring to the arcane fauna?" There was a glimmer of hope within me, but deep down, I knew my suspicions were well-founded.

“Do you take care of this whole forest on your own? I imagine it’s difficult…” he said as he narrowed his eyes. I heard a distinctly feline growl coming from behind me though it felt more aimed at me than anything.  

"I hold a deep love for this forest, its care could never burden me," I responded, my hands fidgeting with my skirt. The corners of the man’s mouth curled the slightest bit. 

He fixed his eyes on me and asked, "What price would you charge to allow someone to perform a little…population control in this forest?"

"I would never allow such a thing, especially not profit from it. These aren’t your everyday rabbits and squirrels, they are not to be hunted,” I stated firmly. 

"Oh, come on, surely you have once or twice,” he insisted, resting his hands on his hips.

"No. Nor did my predecessor. Nor did hers,” I reiterated sternly. 

"Everything has a price,” he continued smoothly, in a sly tone. 

"Clearly not," I retorted, resting my hands in the pockets of my dress. My hand wrapped around my arcane focus, though I desperately wanted to let go. My hand began to tremble. He tutted and shook his head.

"Perhaps it would be wise for you to make an exception," he suggested, and in that moment, the only sounds that could be heard were two steps forward, two steps back, and the increasingly agitated growls of a demonic ‘cat’. 

"And why should I?" I challenged, though my voice came out weak.

"It would make things much easier for both of us," he replied, and with each deliberate step he took, my heart threatened to burst from my chest. Doubt, a kind all too familiar, raced through my mind. I had faced hellhounds, yet now, without my spellbook, I felt as though I was on the verge of fainting. I was useless, and with something that should be innate or as easy as breathing, which was what Marcia would always say. Suppressing my trembling, I pointed my wand at the hunter, the room falling into an eerie silence. Despite my fear, a surge of anger, aimed at myself, coursed through me. I had to prove to myself that I hadn’t truly lost all of my strength. And I certainly didn't want a snarky demon to witness to my failure.

"Not another step," I stammered, my voice wavering. He disregarded my plea and pressed forward, taking two more audacious steps. I attempted to focus on his energy, his Spirit, as I retreated further. 

Just as easy as breathing, just as easy as breathing just as…

Two more steps forward. I strained to draw in energy, but regardless of how desperately I tried it slipped through my grasp like sand.

"You're welcome to change your mind," he taunted, shrugging indifferently. I shook my head, my resolve unwavering. He reached for something attached to his belt and hurled it in my direction—a dart, likely infused with a tranquilizer or paralytic. Perhaps one I could concoct myself. Reflexively shutting my eyes and turning my head, I managed to draw up enough of my own Spirit to form a small shield in front of me, the dart bouncing off of the wall of golden energy. When I opened my eyes, I was met with the sight of the hunter lunging toward me. But then, he abruptly stopped, jerking back as a garbled choking sound escaped his throat. I glanced up, and there was Ashir, in his true form, gripping the back of the hunter's shirt. The man turned to face Ashir.

"How's this for odd-looking?" Ashir hissed, his voice dripping with malice. Instinctively, I covered my ears as Ashir emitted a shrill roar. I do not know if I’ve ever witnessed a full-grown man soil himself, but in that moment at least got very close. The hunter, too stunned to scream, began to flail about desperately, struggling to break free from Ashir's grasp. Ashir released him, and without putting up a fight, the man scrambled towards the door, nearly tripping over himself in his haste. 

As he turned to look at me, Ashir seemed on the verge of saying some harsh reprimand. However, when our eyes met, he paused, shook his head, and vanished into thin air.

After that day, Ashir's presence became less frequent, but this time it was a consequence of my own actions. Determined to break free from the suffocating rut I had found myself in, I sought solace in the basement whenever I could. Desperately seeking answers, I delved into our collection of books on our form of magic, even though I had already scoured their contents years ago as an apprentice. My search yielded little assistance, leaving me feeling disheartened and adrift.

Amidst my futile attempts, my gaze was often drawn to the arcane focus that had been passed down through generations since the time of the First. 

"What is that?" Ashir's voice jolted me from my book, and I glanced up to find the lanky, four-armed demon fixated on the rapier.

"Don't touch it," I warned, my tone firm. Ashir's expression twisted with annoyance as he awaited an explanation, "It's an arcane focus, wielded by every witch before being passed down to her successor,” I divulged as my shoulders slumped slightly. 

"Like the wand you possess?" Ashir inquired, his curiosity evident.

"Yes," I confirmed, my voice tinged with a hint of resignation. Ashir’s four sets of eyes squinted in my direction. 

"Then why don't you use this one?" He probed further, his gaze unwavering.

"Because..." I sighed, closing my book in defeat. "I'm not... I don't..." I stumbled over my words, my eyes shifting to the rapier that had been hanging untouched on the wall for the past two years. The weapon exuded an ethereal quality, a testament to centuries of channeling Spirit.

“You what?” Ashir said, his voice heavy with impatience. I set the book down on my desk before rising and crossing my arms. I didn’t meet his gaze, opting to stare at the floor. 

"It's an invaluable heirloom, crafted by the First after her original staff was destroyed in her valiant battle to protect our forest," I explained. My hand instinctively rose, clutching the necklace I wore around my neck, adorned with a crystal shard. I considered clarifying but decided against it. Rediscovering the staff two years ago didn't alter the narrative significantly. In the end, the staff was still lost, except for the fragment I held in my palm.

"But you are meant to wield it, aren't you?" Ashir persisted, his gaze piercing into my soul when I finally looked to meet it. I pressed my lips together, contemplating his question. I felt dread consuming me, each breath slightly harder to pull into my lungs. 

"Are you asking because you are truly curious or because you’d like me to admit my unworthiness aloud?” I countered, shifting my gaze from him to the rapier on the wall, my grip on the crystal shard tightening. The weight of the arcane focus' legacy bore down on me, a constant reminder of my own inadequacies. The shard served as a haunting memento of the consequences resulting from those very shortcomings.

Gradually, I came to accept the futility of my research. In its stead, I turned to meditation in the depths of the woods, amidst the abundance of wildlife that usually would be unwelcome distractions during meditation. I would lose myself for hours, attempting to attune myself to the Spirit that flowed through the flora and fauna surrounding me. However, progress proved to be slow and attempts to connect to the energy within these words remained arduous, as if attempting to catch a fleeting breeze with outstretched hands. The process demanded patience and perseverance beyond measure, not even Ashir could have plagued me so. 

Deeper into the fall I had a reason to feel renewed excitement. 

“You want me to go…stare at the sky with you?” questioned Ashir as I donned my cloak. 

"This doesn't happen often, it’s a remarkable event! Come on, join me," I called out to Ashir, waiting by the doorway.

"Do all humans have such a fascination with the moon?" he retorted in a belittling tone, walking towards me with one set of arms crossed and the other resting at his sides. 

“Do all demons have such a penchant for ruining the fun of others? Both of our moons will be crossing paths during a total lunar eclipse. They say, my predecessor, the very First, battled the dark entity that had corrupted this forest on a night such as this”. 

Ashir scoffed, “Humans do love exaggerating their tales,” he said as he rolled his eyes before he gestured for me to go outside. I led the way, not bothering to humor his remark, as I walked to the side of the cottage.

Ashir took in the view for a moment, “Ah, I see. You only want me to help you get up there,” he concluded with a roll of his eyes. I shook my head. 

"I go up there all the time. We have a ladder, but it's fairly pointless," I explained as I began to climb the large trellis that covered the wall, stretching over both stories of my home. Midway, I noticed Ashir watching me from below, and an unusually mischievous idea crossed my mind. I intentionally let my foot slip away from the trellis, reaching one hand out and leaning back slightly to create the illusion of losing my balance. I even added a cry of fear, expecting Ashir to see through it. Yet, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the imposing demon panic, calling out my name. Suppressing my laughter, I regained my footing and held on with both hands.

"What?" he called out from below.

"Now I really know your threats are empty. You've gone soft," I teased, unable to contain my laughter.

"I- I was merely yelling in disappointment – at your foolishness!" he snapped back defensively.

"No, no, admit it Ashir. You've gone from persecutor to protector-" I began, but before I could finish, I felt his arms wrap around me, and everything went dark momentarily before swiftly returning. I found myself on the roof as Ashir gently set me down, his face close to mine.

"How do you know, hm? How do you know this isn't an act and that this collar is the only reason you're still alive?" he growled, his words laced with skepticism. I immediately knew it was a bluff. I had witnessed him screech at me, threaten and insult me in countless ways. This was different.

I pondered momentarily about something that had been on my mind quite a bit these past two weeks. I had been hesitant before but any anxiety I had almost entirely disappeared in that moment. Reaching up slowly and deliberately I grabbed hold of his collar. To my surprise, the second my hand came into contact with the cool metal it began to glimmer with purple magic. I gave it a gentle tug and it opened with ease. As I withdrew my hands, pulling the collar off of him, I looked into Ashir's eyes and saw a kind of shock I did not know he was capable of portraying. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open in disbelief. It seemed as though he could hardly even process what had just occurred. I allowed silence to envelop us like the cool night air as I stared at him expectantly. After he, in fact, did not rip my face off I gave him a small, only slightly smug smile.  

"That’s how I know," I said confidently. He stood up straight, taking a step back, utterly speechless, and continuing to stare at me in awe.

“You are mad,” he breathed. I shrugged as I set the collar on the roof before I sat down. I looked at Ashir as I waited for him to follow suit. 

We lay in silence, our gazes fixed upon the vast expanse of stars, an unknown abyss stretching out before us. The moon, magnified and tinged with a deep red, cast an almost warm glow over the forest. Time seemed to lose its grip on us as we remained there, lost in the beauty of it all. At least, that is what I was lost in. Ashir on the other hand, was growing restless, fidgeting and glancing at me occasionally. 

Abruptly, he sat up, his words pouring out in a rush. "Why did you choose to show me empathy and kindness when all I ever offered you was venom and torment?” He froze suddenly, momentarily speechless until he hung his head, “…How can you treat a monster with such sweetness?" He asked in a quiet voice. He looked up at me and I saw that his face bore a desperate expression, something unlike anything I’d seen before. Eyes wide at his sudden outburst, I propped myself up on my elbows, facing him directly.

"You are not a monster," I affirmed, meeting his gaze. "You've been wounded and cornered, as such it is no surprise that you have learned to lash out. It wasn't something you taught yourself."

Ashir retorted, his voice filled with doubt, "You don't know that. Maybe I've always been this way."

"Not all demons are inherently evil," I countered gently.

"Some are…How did you know for certain that I wouldn't hurt you? Because I intervened when you failed to protect yourself from that man?" He asked. I thought about his question, taking a quiet moment of contemplation. The weight of his uncertainty hung in the air. 

“No,” I began before I shifted my gaze to the roof beneath us, choosing my words carefully, “…someone evil wouldn’t have cradled me so delicately, as if I were a fragile flower, afraid of causing harm or fear”. He shook his head. 

"I will never comprehend your unwavering kindness in the face of anger and hatred," he admitted, his tone tinged with disbelief.

"I cannot control the actions of others, nor can I force them to be good," I replied, my voice steady. "So I must embody goodness myself”. 

He interjected, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees, “Surely you see your own naivety, that path will get you killed someday”. My eyes widened a tad, his scolding having taken me off guard. I mirrored him, sitting with my elbows on my knees as I rested my chin on my hands. 

“My kindness does not mean I have removed my teeth. Push me far enough and I will act like a dog backed into a corner just the same” I explained, my eyes falling away from his towards the end of my sentence as I felt anxiety steal my breath, a familiar knot in my stomach returning. He eyed me skeptically. 

“After what I have witnessed, you may not have removed your teeth but have clearly forgotten how to use them” he stated. I sighed and went back to lying down and staring at the moon.

Silence returned and Ashir eventually followed suit, lying down once more. I closed my eyes, listening to the wind dance through the trees. A chorus of creatures could be heard if you only took the time to listen closely. However, my mind shifted away from the forest. I opened my eyes and stared at Ashir’s collar. Eventually, I had to ask, doing so with cautious curiosity. 

“Ashir?” I asked. His eyes met mine – a quiet acknowledgment, “Why have you been condemned to this punishment, to serve the will of others?”

"I disobeyed orders," Ashir replied, after what had felt like ages of contemplation. I raised my eyebrows 

"You truly have a gift for storytelling," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "I know the answer will be heavy. I am prepared for that weight, “ I added, only the slightest bit annoyed as I knew he believed I couldn’t take such a thing. 

With a deep sigh and a shake of his head, he began his tale. "There was a court, filled with human royalty. Some of the noblemen," he spat out the word with palpable disdain, "...despised the queen. I believe she kept them from amassing too much power. So, the men struck a deal with my master. They wanted him to take the soul of her beloved child, a little boy. But, not just that – they asked that they be able to witness his demise during some grand gathering," he explained as his voice grew venomous. I felt the weight of such a story pressing down on me as I stared with my mouth agape attempting to process it. 

"So you refused?" I asked once I regained my composure. Ashir's laughter echoed, full of resentment. Yet I could hear the pain hidden within. 

"Refusal alone would not have earned me such a punishment. No, when I saw them there, saw their sadistic anticipation, I was consumed by rage. If they could take joy in such a thing, I deemed that those men were unworthy of their souls," he replied, his voice tinged with a mix of hatred and pride. He continued, “And before you ask, I do not regret it”. 

I studied his face, seeing if that was the truth. And it seemed it was partially so. I had another question, but I allowed him to sit there in contemplation as I feared I may be pushing him into discussing more than he desired to.

He was the one to break the silence, “Go on, ask already,” he insisted, his voice tinged by lingering sharpness. It startled me and I saw his gaze soften as he lowered his head, almost if he was offering an unspoken apology. I took in a breath. 

"It wasn't your first attempt at escape, was it?" I asked, studying his face intently. His teeth clenched and shoulders tended before he replied.

"No," he said grimly. A heavy silence settled between us as I continued to observe him. His expression remained unyielding and he didn't speak again until I eventually returned my attention to the stars. Then he asked, his gaze now fixed on me, searching for answers, "How did you know?"

A chuckle escaped my lips, "...because you're a stubborn jerk," I jested.  Though not looking at him directly, I knew he silently urged me to speak the truth. I let out a sigh, meeting his gaze, "...I could see it in your eyes. You were aware of the consequences that awaited you had you been caught”.

Ashir's gaze grew distant as he muttered, "...I'm sure it awaits me still. Such a wretched cycle-"

I sat up, determined to convey my seriousness. "I was serious, Ashir," I interjected, prompting him to sit up as well.

"About what?" he replied, his tone curious.

"I am going to find a way to free you," I declared firmly, emphasizing each word. Ashir gave me a skeptical, almost angry look, and our bickering commenced.

"You can't possibly-"

"I'm going to give it a try," I stated. 

"It's futile," he retorted.

"I said I am going to-" 

"You do not comprehend the gravity of this," he urged. 

"Then I will educate myself. I will find a way," I insisted, standing my ground.

"You cannot,” he said, voice full of both disbelief and anger. 

"You underestimate me”.

“You shouldn’t concern yourself with such things, you-“

"Why?" I demanded abruptly, raising my voice for the first time and bringing our debate to a halt. His eyes widened at my conviction. 

The sounds of the forest seemed to become louder, rushing in to fill the silence, as the unanswered question hung in the air. Ashir and I sat there, our eyes locked, searching for understanding. The intensity of our conversation fizzled out as Ashir attempted to find words. But he didn’t need to. I knew the answer already. 

“… It's dangerous –“ he began, finally. I glared at him, eyes demanding the truth. Time seemed to slow as his face fell, “I am not worth the risk,” he confessed.

“Why?” I asked, as gently as I could. 

“Because, I am a worthless, wretched creature. I have ripped souls from bodies, oftentimes those who did not deserve it,”

“So you do not want to be freed?” I questioned in an even but dry tone. 

“Of course I do –“ Ashir began before I interjected. 

“You just do not want it to be with my help?” I questioned. Ashir leaned forward, bringing his face closer to mine. He stared into my eyes so intensely it sent a chill down my spine. 

“I am tainted, my hands bloodied. Yet you, you are untouched by darkness. I will not allow you to sully your soul for my sake” Ashir responded in a definitive tone. I looked away, for I did not want him to see how much my heart ached for him – how deeply I felt his pain. But, I was not about to back down, so I grit my teeth and met his gaze.

“If freeing you from centuries worth of torment is an act that defiles my soul, I will gladly embrace the darkness. But I refuse to believe it will. You are not a leper, you committed dark acts to avoid an existence of agony. And in the end, you decided agony was a better fate than continuing on that path,” I said with firm finality. He backed away, looking around nervously, before his form vanished before my eyes. Our conversation ended as abruptly as it began. I heaved out a deep sigh before lying back down, my mind racing with thoughts and questions. A darkness began to fall over the forest like a blanket as clouds gathered in front of the moon. I couldn’t bring myself to climb back down, so I lay there until sleep came for me. 

“Witch of the forest, wielder of Spirit” called a voice that seemed to hang in the air, an ethereal quality to it. I opened my eyes and was first greeted by the blood-red moon that seemed as if it may fall from the sky at any moment. I tried to sit up, but when I moved to push myself off of the roof it was not there. I looked around, to find I was floating in the air. The forest appeared as though it was partially dematerialized, fading into a dark void. Such a sight was quickly forgotten when my eyes landed on a figure that was nearly indescribable. It was a humanlike form but composed entirely of swirling, white Spirit. I could feel the power radiating off of the figure, my skin prickling, hairs standing on end. 

“Thou hath been bestowed the power of a Siphon, the second to grace our lineage since I. Endless and infinite is your potential, thus I implore thee - how art thou yet the feeblest among us? Why thy fire gone out?” called the voice. I began to stumble to speak, and I apologized for my shortcomings. I implored the figure to help me, to explain what they meant, what to do, but no matter what I said I only heard,

“Find thy fire and thou shall know peace”.

Before long, she had vanished and I felt everything beginning to fade away into darkness. Though I could see nothing, I felt something pulling me and heard quiet mumbling. 

I opened my eyes to find that Ashir was cautiously lifting me into his arms. As my awareness returned I could feel myself trembling, my hands so cold they felt stiff. 

“Ashir?” I asked as I opened my eyes. 

“Go back to sleep,” he grumbled as he carried me inside. 

I had spent the next morning fixing up my old treehouse, transforming it into a small sanctuary of solace. However, my endeavor was abruptly interrupted.

"Cedar!" Ashir called out suddenly.

"Just a moment!" I replied before descending from the tree.

"I knew I'd find you here. Someone came by, wanting to place an order. I disguised myself and took note of it, but don't make this a habit. I am not –“

"How did you know I was here?" I interrupted, gazing at him skeptically. 

"Why does that matter? Are you even listening? I said –“

"No, no. You mentioned that you knew you'd find me here, as if you knew about this place beforehand," I continued as I raised my eyebrows, causing Ashir to fumble for a response.

"I...I just...you..." He struggled to find the right words. I stood there, waiting for him to compose himself. He crossed his arms and sneered, "I'm so sorry that when it started raining and you didn't return to the cottage, I went out looking for you. And what a nightmare it was trying to track you in the rain –“

"You can track people?" I interrupted again, holding out my hand to stop him. Suddenly the fact that he had searched for me in the rain was forgotten.  

"All Ezel can. We can sense someone's soul. How else do you think we find our targets?" He annoyed as though it was knowledge I should have already 

"I suppose that makes sense…Why don't you come up and see the treehouse? I've made it quite cozy," I suggested.

"A wooden box in a tree? Sounds like a delightful time. You truly have a knack for adventure," he sarcastically replied. I opened my mouth to say something snarky but froze, thinking for a bit

"Oh? You want an adventure?" I challenged after a moment. 

"I..." he began, but I quickly scurried back up into the treehouse, grabbing my spell book, “I was simply being facetious! I doubt you could come up with something entertaining, regardless," he protested. I climbed most of the way back down before jumping off a low-hanging branch.

"Oh, and here I thought you'd be up for the challenge," I said with a smirk, placing my hand on my hip. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at me.

"What challenge?" he asked, suddenly intrigued.

I shrugged nonchalantly and looked around. "Well, you claim you can track people, and I say I could easily hide from you if I wanted to," I proposed, injecting my voice with a hint of ego. Ashir's rumbling laughter could be heard as he approached, a mischievous grin forming on his face.

"You don't truly believe that, do you?" he asked skeptically. I glanced at the sun, realizing there was about an hour left until noon.

"I do. I think that if I use magic, I could hide from you until, let's say...high noon?" I said casually, though excitement began to build up within me. I wouldn't normally make such an offer, but I had a plan that I was mostly sure would work. My heart raced and for once it wasn’t due to fear. 

"Oleander, I need your help. Bring me a butterfly wing and two pieces of quartz. Transform into another form, not a crow, maybe a hare," I telepathically called out to my familiar. Though he could locate me regardless, I added, "Meet me at Criella's cross - and bring an extra sachet!”

"Your magic won't help hide your soul, but I suppose there's only one way to find out. I'll sit here and count to a hundred, no, two hundred, giving you the slightest chance to succeed," Ashir generously offered.

"How kind of you," I replied sarcastically. 

"One...two..." he began counting. My heart quickened, and I took off, leaping over a nearby brook and disappearing into the brush.

"No teleporting!" I called out as I ran. I continued for a while before casting a spell of lightness, ensuring I left no tracks and increasing my speed. I made my path as chaotic as possible, but I knew that alone wouldn't be enough. Eventually, I returned to a path and followed it, leaping over tree roots and ducking under low branches until it merged with several other paths. It led to a small clearing bathed in sunlight, where a very annoyed rabbit awaited me. He had dropped a small bag, and I picked it up.

"Is this some game you're playing with the demon?" Oleander asked.

"I wouldn't call it a game, per se," I replied as I opened the bag, taking out one of the quartz chunks. Such crystals make excellent vessels for energy, even if they do not excel at holding onto it for extended periods of time. I wrapped my hand around the crystal and closed my eyes. With a deep inhale and exhale I pushed some of my Spirit into the vessel, ensuring not to overdo it. Then, I placed the infused quartz inside the extra bag, handing it back to Oleander. 

"This feels like cheating..." my familiar said skeptically. 

"I clearly stated I'd be using magic, and you are technically magical. So, be a dear and run toward the field east of here," I said with a smile as I began removing my skirt. Oleander hopped backwards, tilting his head. 

“And how is disrobing going to help?” He questioned with a judgmental tone as I threw my skirt into the bushes near the east path before removing my shirt and repeating the action. All of which left me in a pair of shorts and an undershirt. I turned to my familiar, a smug look on my face, and shrugged. 

“Thank you, Ollie!” I said quietly, ignoring the question. I grabbed my spell book and the small bag and took off, headed west. 

My plan relied on a hypothesis: that Ashir's tracking was not primarily based on someone's soul, but rather on the residual Spirit it left behind. Souls constantly generated Spirit, albeit to varying degrees. If I were a different kind of Spirit witch, this task would have been considerably more challenging, as most of them possess an overabundance of Spirit. However, in my case, I only had an excess of Spirit when I managed to…fully harness my abilities.

It wasn’t long until I was nearing my destination so I paused and pulled out the second quartz. Breathing in I focused my energy, channeling it into the stone in my hand, causing the quartz to emit a soft, ethereal glow. I held it up to the sunlight, allowing the rays to pass through it, creating a brilliant prism of colors as I began my incantation. 

As the light filtered through the quartz, I began to visualize the energy spreading out, enveloping every inch of me, every hair and freckle. I focused on the image I wanted as I continued to say the incantation. 

Once I felt the spell had taken hold I walked to a nearby tree and hid the crystal behind it. Stepping back, I completed the incantation and watched as the crystal’s glow increased before shifting into a copy of myself sitting on the ground. I ensured the smallest bit of her shoe could be seen from the path. 

With the butterfly wing serving as a catalyst, I wove a polymorph spell around my spell book, transforming it into a mundane-seeming rock. I placed my spell…rock inside the small sachet before I fastened it securely around my wrist. I retraced my steps to the river's edge, treading carefully as I was aware Ashir’s senses were sharp and I feared he might hear me if I didn’t proceed with caution. I sat on the ground before slowly slipping into the river, swimming with the gentle current. The water was brisk and it stung my eyes as I blinked and tried my best to see. As I got my bearings and began to move through the water I saw fish darting around through my peripheral vision and I parted long stalks of aquatic plants as I swam further. 

The river subtly quickened, a signal urging me to resurface. Emerging from the depths with a touch of clumsiness, I rose to my feet, hearing the distant roar of a nearby waterfall. I began to walk, my pace increasing as I cautiously approached the precipice. The waterfall was modest in size and one could easily dive into the waters below, provided one avoided the rocks. Again aware of Ashir’s senses I began to descend by foot, maneuvering with care until I reached the bottom, slipping into the water once again. 

Paddling my way towards the cascading falls, I found my way into a hidden cavern concealed behind the thunderous curtain of water. The deafening crashing of the falls enveloped my senses. Retrieving my book from inside my sachet, I released it from its disguise before utilizing it to invoke a spell, attempting to dry myself off while I waited. 

And wait I did, for so long that I nearly left my hiding place to see if it was past high noon, thinking perhaps Ashir simply gave up. But sure enough, after what felt like ages, I heard his voice. 

"I know you're lurking somewhere. Reveal yourself," he called out, his voice finally breaking the silence. I remained motionless, refusing to yield. He continued, calling out a few more times, "It's past noon, there is no reason to remain hidden,” he continued. Still, I held my ground. Eventually, the sound of the demon plunging into the water reached my ears. Before long, he too found his way into the cavern, his anger palpable.

"Is it truly past noon?" I inquired, observing the expression on his face that had already betrayed the answer.

"Yes," he hissed, crossing his arms defiantly. In response, I sprang to my feet.

"I apologize, but I didn’t quite catch that. Could you repeat it?" I asked, tilting my head with a hint of feigned confusion.

"Yes! It is past noon!" he snapped, a small puddle forming at his feet as water dripped from his hair and pants – having removed his shirt and shoes. His chest was toned and muscular, the same brilliant white as the rest of his body. 

"And what does that mean, exactly?" I inquired, pretending to be bewildered, though I held my chin high.

"It means go fuck yourself,” he spat. 

"Oh, no, no. What does it really mean?" I chimed, edging closer.

"I don't have to say it," he retorted, his tone resembling that of a petulant child. I pouted playfully.

"Aw, are you too much of a baby to say it?" I cooed. His face contorted with fury.

"I'm not—"

"I believe you are," I interjected with a singsong voice, a wide smile adorning my face. He let out an exasperated huff, seething with anger. I maintained my gaze, unwavering.

"You've won," he finally conceded, and I burst into laughter, bouncing on my toes.

"Regretting the extra 100 seconds you gave me, hm? Although I'm not sure they would have helped. It seems you're just not very good at this," I teased, continuing to approach him. He rolled his eyes.

"I think you should shut your mouth” he barked

"Make me," I challenged, immediately realizing that I had made a grave error.

Ashir began to grin as he spoke, “Alright," he snarled, and in an instant, he vanished before my eyes.

I spun around, but it was too late. He swiftly seized me, hoisting me over his shoulder.

"Ashir, what on earth are you doing? Put me down! Gods, release me!" I pleaded, struggling against his grip. He shifted his hold, cradling me in his arms, and I realized we stood near the water's edge, the mist from the falls gently covering my skin. "Don't you dare, Ashir d—" I began, but he brought his arms back and flung me forward. I crashed through the waterfall, plunging into the cold water. After being stunned momentarily I swam back to the surface, gasping for air and turning to face the falls. "You're a sore loser, do you know that?!" I shouted.

"Well, you're hardly a gracious winner," his voice retorted from behind me. I wish I could say I handled it with composure, but alas, I did not. In fact, I screamed. And now, it was his turn to revel in laughter, a sound I was still getting used to. 

That night, restlessness consumed me, rendering sleep an elusive fantasy. I found myself caught in a relentless loop, replaying my conversations with Ashir and the dream that followed. Yet, the more I pondered, the more said dream faded into my subconcious. Instead, my thoughts gravitated toward recent events as I was elated Ashir had begun to warm up to me. However, the mere contemplation of it set my heart racing, its rhythm quickened by a mix of anticipation and a tinge of apprehension. I tried convincing myself that it was mere residual nervousness following the removal of his collar, but deep down, I knew the feeling had begun before that night.

But my thoughts didn't linger in the realm of mild and mundane for long. They inevitably circled back to our conversation on the roof. His face, etched with profound and unyielding sorrow remained imprinted in my mind. Strangely enough, the more I envisioned his expression the more it began to feel more akin to mirror. Not in a literal sense, of course, but in the shared burden of self-loathing and inner turmoil. I understood his sorrow, albeit for a different reason. But I too struggled to keep my head above the relentless waves of sorrow, constantly striving to be kind to myself, but finding it to be a losing battle more often than not. It made me question whether I was being hypocritical in reproaching Ashir for his behavior, especially considering self-hatred might be all he knows.

Lost in contemplation, my mind wandered to the way he held me, as though the simple act of embracing another was entirely new to him. I couldn't help but wonder: Had he never experienced such tenderness before? How starved for kindness must one be to believe that a mere touch could bring damnation upon another? The thought weighed heavily on my heart. 

I rose from my seat and made my way to the living room, settling onto the couch. "Ashir?" I called out, and before my eyes, the demon materialized. "Would you sit with me for a while? Just until I feel tired, perhaps?" I asked, my voice gentle. He eyed me skeptically, likely suspecting that this was a trick to have a conversation with him, which wasn't entirely wrong. He took a seat on the other side of the couch as I curled my knees to my chest, resting my head upon them.

"You know, it's quite funny," I began, breaking the silence after some time. 

"What is?" he inquired, squinting his eyes at me curiously. 

“I think we both hardly expected to have much in common, but here we are. Both feeling terribly and completely worthless. Irredeemable,” I said as my voice slowly became stoic. He sat up straight and leaned forward. 

"That's not a similarity at all," he adamantly replied, "It's entirely different."

"How?" I questioned, seeking to understand his perspective. He shook his head, a hint of frustration apparent. 

"How many times must I tell you? I am tainted. No matter how you perceive me, regardless of the growth I've experienced, I am and will always be a vile creature, unworthy of... undeserving of..." He trailed off, letting out a sigh. "I am surprised I have been here, surrounded by your kindness, for as long as I have without damning you or dragging y –“

As he spoke, frustration surged within me. I yearned to seize him and shout that I didn't believe him to be unworthy, that he deserved kindness, even if my words might not make a significant difference. But then, I remembered his unfamiliarity with affection. Without much further consideration, I sat up and, with a gentle but swift motion, leaned towards him and planted a kiss on his cheek. Instantly, he fell silent, motionless. He stared at me as I leaned back, a mix of awe and confusion evident in his eyes. My face burned red, but I wasn't finished. I turned slightly, closed my eyes tightly, and clasped my hands against my chest, freezing in place.

"What... what... Cedar?" Ashir called out, his voice filled with uncertainty. I ignored him. "Why did you... What are you doing? Hello? Cedar!" His concern grew, his words tinged with worry as he grabbed my shoulder. 

Finally, I broke my silence, "I'm waiting to go to hell," I said, slowly opening my eyes and looking around. "Hmm, that's odd. I don't think this is hell. And my soul doesn't feel very damned," I quipped. Ashir remained tense, drawing in a shaky breath. 

He stammered, "Why did you do such a thing?" his hand pressed against his cheek as he spoke. I observed a subtle, deep red, almost maroon, color spread across the demon's face, which somewhat eased my own embarrassment. "...all to prove a point?" He finished. My face grew even redder as I sheepishly glanced towards the ground. He fell quiet, and we sat there in silence for what felt like eons, until I slowly shook my head, finally answering his inquiry. I felt his fingertips gently lifting my chin, turning my face towards his.

His movements seemed slow, as if he were trudging through mud, even momentarily second-guessing himself. Eventually, he leaned closer and pressed his lips against my cheek. It was timid, filled with fear, as delicate as the flutter of a moth's wings. He pulled away but not entirely, his eyes fixed on my face. It took me a few moments to meet his gaze as I tried to maintain composure. My brain felt as if it were a whirlpool and I couldnt make sense of…anything really. Questions rapidly consumed my mind. What was happening? What did it mean? And why did I feel as though I may have fainted? But Ashir was looking at me expectantly, so I had to form some kind of response. 

"Still... still not in hell. M-maybe we just aren't trying hard enough," I jested, a shy smile forming. I wasn’t entirely certain what I was saying, my words were an attempt to alleviate my own anxiety. He smiled back, and that simple gesture sent a warm, comforting sensation coursing through my body.

 "Maybe," he whispered.

Nearly as slowly as before, he began to lean back in. As I realized what he was doing, my frustration grew, even though his intentions were well-meaning. It was as though he still thought he may kill me upon his lips touching mine. The impulsive courage that had seized me at the beginning of this exchange resurfaced as I leaned forward, pressing my lips against his. I fought through my shyness, cupping his cheek with my hand. The kiss was tender and sweet, but Ashir quickly pulled away, a familiar look in his eyes.

"Don't go," I pleaded softly. His eyes darted around, his chest rising and falling rapidly. This time, it was my turn to move slowly. I shifted onto my knees, positioning myself to reach him better. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. "If you can't bring yourself to be kind to yourself, I understand. But you are worthy to me," I whispered as I held on to him. To my surprise, when he returned my embrace, it was not fearful or hesitant. He enveloped me in his arms, holding me as one would cling to a raft in a turbulent sea.

[another-heroine]

Thinking about Tishka

I suppose it's nothing new that I love birds of prey. They are one of my fav animals, side by side with wolves and felines. My father and my baby brother call me 'little owl' (what's very cute hahaha), my friends and hubby associate me with crows (what is cute too). Anyway, just babbling.

But. Let's talk about Tishka.

CW: Long Post, Animal's Death, Personal Sidequests, Empyreal Lord apparition, Hook for Witch!Ekaterina, I got carried away again

When I was creating Ekaterina, I thought about giving her an animal companion. I love this part of her class. But the more I read about the druids in Pathfinder, the more I noticed that it wouldn't be her cup of tea. Blight Druids don't bond with animals necessarily, but with the ill land, and it fits perfectly for WOTR's context.

She was a lonely child and one day found an owl's nest in the underground. Katya get quickly attached to the Mama Owl and her owlets. Especially to the odd one: the smallest of the flock. While his siblings grew up and changed feathers, he looked like was always a step back. And yet he strived.

The elders recalled restlessly about how important was to let the Nature follows its course and they should never step on. Ekaterina did that, but not without cheering for her friend to survive because she felt him. When the others owlets were learning how to fly, she made company to him.

The name 'Tishka' came to her in a dream. Actually, it was Tisemir, but Ekaterina got used to call him by the nickname. She only calls him Tisemir when she is infuriated (what's very rare).

When she left Irrisen, he found her midway to Mendev. By that time, Ekaterina had already noticed that he wasn’t an ordinary owl; Tishka could fly long ways in short time, show in her dreams, and could send and bring messages for/from her family. She thought the latter was only possible because Annya and she were druids and were able to understand animals, but barely she knew it wasn’t all.

When her biological mother struck, kidnapping Annya, Ekaterina (and the KC, in the CompanionAU!) confronts a hard moment:

"Are you willing to save your dearest mother or your stupid owl?"

Both beloved ones before her eyes, with their fates on her hands. Annya tied like a lamb, with a blade between her ribs, Tishka locked in a cold iron cage, in the aim of a deadly spell. Regardless Ekaterina's choice, she can hear his last words:

"Trust me... I'm sorry."

A suddenly darkness gouples the room, giving enough time for Annya to free herself and get barely injured, but they can't say the same for the horned owl; a sparkle and a painful shriek are enough to make the aasimar's eyes glow bewildered.

Tishka was dead. And that filth hag would pay for it.

After seizing the witch, Ekaterina mourns for her feathered best friend. When she touches his body, she is transported for another dimension and sees herself surrounded by celestial owlbears and ghostly owls. Among them, a giant, bluish horned owl with glowing eyes is staring at her.

"And we finally met," he says. "Forgive me for not contacting you in a better moment, emberchild."

"Who are you?" Ekaterina frowns with clenched fists.

"... And he told me about you. Tishka, I mean. Since then, I couldn’t take off my eyes of your deeds, emberchild. Since your foreparent is a reckless being and never came in your aid."

"Me? I am Tanagaar, the Aurulent Eye, an Empyreal Lord. I am a watcher, protector of whoelse wanders in the dark to protect their kin from evil."

The druid sttagered.

"Do you know my foreparent?"

"Yes, but trust me, it’s better you two never meet. For your good."

Ekaterina pleadges, "Please, bring him back. It was a mistake."

"Mistake you say? Emberchild, he knew what he was doing. After all, it was me who lend a sparkle of my power for Tishka saves your mother. And what's gone can’t be returned. You should know it very well."

Ekaterina drops her gaze, embarrassed. She sounded like a spoiled child, didn’t she?

"But..."

She looked at the deity again, hopeful.

"It doesn’t mean he can’t keep following you."

Among the ghostly court, an owl flies right way to the druid. She would recognize him in any life or after it. His feathers, now changing their colors between gray and brown, like it used to do when they left Irrisen and arrived at places where the sun was allowed to touch the earth, are dearly familiar.

"You feathered brain," she mocks with cracked voice. "I'm glad to see you again."

Tanagaar states, "The brighter the light, the darker the shadows. Use it in your favor, emberchild."

"What’s the catch? You wouldn’t simply let him wandering with me for free, would you?"

"Why would I not?" The Empyreal sounded concerned. "You are fighting against demons and bringing light to the darkest depths of the Abyss. When your halo falters, you can call for me and my flock. The only thing I ask for is an alliance. But you don't need to answer now. Your people needs you."

Before she could say anything, Ekaterina was back at the witch's den, with curious and worried eyes over her. Tishka's body had disapeared in thin air, yet she could feel him nearby.

All that time, the piercy eyes of an Empyreal Lord were watching her, silent, motionless. And she didn’t know how to react.

[calicohyde]

Tagged by @goodmorninglovelies42 on main to post the last line I wrote.

"Hello, pretty boy," she murmurs sleepily. She brushes a hand down Ferris's back, her touch heavy and clumsy with drowsiness. "What have you been up to?" Ferris opens itself up to her, lets her feel what it's feeling. Pride, satisfaction, relief. She hums happily, smiles, and goes back to sleep. Ferris closes its eyes and sleeps too, purring.

from Feline Retribution, complete at 5k Sign up here to be tagged when I post "witch noir" companion stories and trivia.

I tag @fallenangelontheceiling @writingbyrenae and @napneeders.

[south-of-heaven]

nattie x reader on halloween?

Cats || Natalya Neidhart x Reader

Summary: You and Nattie try to dress the cats up for halloween. It's quite challenging.

A/N: I am so sorry for these cat names but I don't know what Nattie's cats are called, just that she's had a fuck ton of them. I think she said she had 13 a few years ago.

Halloween had arrived, and you and Nattie Neidhart were determined to get your eight feline companions into the spooky spirit. It sounded like a fun idea at first, but as you both gathered the cat costumes and treats, you soon realized that dressing up eight cats was no small feat.

You and Nattie laid out an assortment of costumes on the living room floor, each one more adorable than the last. There were tiny witches' hats, miniature superhero capes, pumpkin outfits, and even a spooky ghost costume. The cats watched with curious eyes as you and Nattie spread out the costumes.

"Alright, Nat, we've got our work cut out for us," you said with a chuckle, looking at the furry lineup.

Nattie nodded, determination in her eyes. "Let's do this. Cats of Halloween, assemble!"

With that, you both began the challenging task of wrangling eight cats into costumes. The first volunteer was Whiskers, a mischievous orange tabby. You carefully placed a witch's hat on his head, securing it with a tiny strap under his chin. Whiskers, however, had other plans. He darted away, his hat slipping off and tumbling across the floor.

Nattie giggled as she attempted to catch the hat. "We've got to be quicker than that!"

With teamwork and patience, you managed to get the hats on Whiskers and a few of his feline friends. But the costumes didn't stay on for long. Mittens, the fluffy black cat, seemed determined to be a superhero, but he kept squirming out of his cape.

Meanwhile, Fluffy, the mischievous calico, knocked over the small pumpkin costume you had set aside. As you tried to corral the costumes and the cats, Nattie couldn't help but laugh at the chaos.

"This is harder than wrestling," she joked, reaching for Fluffy.

But even amidst the challenges, you both persevered. Each cat, in their own way, seemed to protest the costumes, yet there was something undeniably adorable about their resistance. Some of the cats simply sauntered away, while others performed gravity-defying contortions to escape the costumes.

After what felt like an eternity, you and Nattie finally managed to get costumes on all eight cats, albeit with a few minor adjustments. Whiskers' witch hat was now slightly askew, Mittens had abandoned his superhero cape, and Fluffy had decided she'd rather be a pumpkin with only three legs in the costume.

You both stepped back to admire your handiwork, and despite the comedic challenges you faced, you couldn't help but smile at the adorable sight before you. Eight cats, each dressed in their own unique costumes, sauntered around the living room with an air of indifference.

Nattie chuckled, her eyes filled with amusement and affection. "Well, they might not be thrilled about it, but they're definitely the cutest Halloween crew in town."

You nodded in agreement, admiring the eight feline companions who had brought such joy and laughter into your lives. As you and Nattie took pictures and celebrated your triumph over the costumes, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the little moments of hilarity and love that made every day with your cats a special one, even on Halloween.

[maryhale1]

In the depths of the night, where shadows dance,

A witch and her cat share a timeless trance.

With eyes of amber and fur as dark as coal,

Their bond runs deeper than any spell's control.

Through moonlit woods and starry skies they roam,

Linked by a love that's carved in ancient stone.

Whispers of secrets, shared in the silent night,

Their connection transcends the ordinary sight.

In the flicker of candlelight, their hearts entwine,

A witch and her familiar, a love divine.

Through potions brewed and spells cast with care,

Their bond unbreakable, beyond compare.

With each gentle purr and soft, comforting touch,

They navigate the realms of magic, never out of clutch.

For in the witch's heart, her cat holds the key,

To a love that stretches through eternity.

In the witch's eyes, her feline companion gleams,

A partner in magic, woven through dreams.

Through lifetimes and beyond, their spirits align,

A witch and her black cat, forever intertwined.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The love to a familiar is one of a kind 🙏

Embrace every moment you have either yours ❤️