#maybe vampire cookie is onto something

[dorykinny]

Wait… so in cookie run their blood is strawberry jam, but they can eat like jam and berries and all that…. So does blood taste good to them?

[bitchywillgraham]

UPDATE

Maybe those roman numeral tattoos on Sam's fingers didn't stand for Armand, Lestat, Louis, Claudia, but actually stood for Alex, Lestat, Larry, (Tough) Cookie aka the Vampire Lestat's band members!

While the D can still represent Daniel, because it's been stated that he'll be going onto tour with them!

Which would make sense, because there's something happening on April 16th, so what if we're going to get a sneak preview into the actual band members of the Vampire Lestat!

And the A and E on his hand still stand for Akasha and Enkil, because the Vampire Lestat's music is what awakens Akasha, the First Vampire!

[munsonsmixtapes]

Vampire!Eddie?!!! Omg yes just everything about him. I need a good vampire blurb

cw: mention of blood

This takes place in the 1800s because for some reason that's the time period I imagine all vampires in.

"Eddie, please!" You beg as you grab hold of his shoulders, trying to get him to look you in the eye but he won't. He's just staring at the door, desperately wishing he had the ability to walk through it. But he can't. He won't. Not as long as you're there. No matter how many time he's convince he's put you in danger, he still can't manage to walk away from you. You will remain to be his only weakness.

He knows exactly why you've invited him into your room, looking like a vision as you're lying on the chaise lounge, the fire in the fireplace behind you giving you a pretty orange glow. You're wearing his favorite dress, a cruel trick to get him to give in. He wants to, god does he want to, but doesn't think it's something you can handle.

"I can't," he says, taking your face in his hands, his eyes boring into yours. That's always his answer but you keep asking just hoping that maybe he'll eventually change his answer.

"Why?" You ask, your lip jutting out as you feeling tears welling up in your eyes. He knows they're nothing but a show you're putting on, but he can't help but feel his heart break just a little seeing you like that.

"You know why." He presses the tip of his nose to yours and you know exactly what he's about to do. It's what he always does to cheer you up. But not this time. You're not going to give in so easily.

"Tell me again," you demand as you inch your lips closer to his, grabbing hold of his arms as you get up onto your knees. He's still leaning over you, his hands moving to each arm rest, pinning you there so you can't get away. You always look so pretty on your knees.

Your lips find his in a gentle kiss, the two of you holding back because he doesn't want to hurt you like last time. If he turned you, he'd never have to worry about hurting you ever again.

His hands move to your back, holding you in his arms, the only place he wants you to be for eternity and if he had it his way, that's where you'd stay.

"Because you're not ready," he murmurs against your lips, his tone sounding like you're a child who's asking for a cookie before dinner.

"Yes I am." You tell him as you pull away. Your tone is eager as one of your arms wraps around his neck, your other hand moving to his hair to twirl one of his curls around your finger the way you know he likes. "Think about it this way: if you turn me, then we can be together forever."

"You think I haven't thought about that?" He asks, raising his voice ever so slightly as his eyebrows pinch together. He's the most beautiful man you've ever seen, his curls framing his pale face beautifully and he doesn't even have to try to look good. It's all so effortless.

You tilt your head to the side, your neck completely exposed as you stare at him, a flirty look in your eyes as you can see his eye darken because of how badly he wants to suck your blood.

"See?" You ask. "Look how inviting it is," you grab hold of his shirt and pull him forward, his face hovering right over your neck and he can feel himself drooling as he stares down at it. "Together forever," you whisper as you push his head down.

And he takes the bait, opening his mouth as he says something along the lines of "you asked for it" as his teeth sink into your skin, feeling you go limp in his arms as he sucks, moans falling from your lips at the feelings.

You're the first and only person Eddie's ever going to turn. You're the only person he needs to because he doesn't need anyone else. He tried so hard to push you away, but you're it for him. You have been since the moment he met you and will continue to be for eternity.

Once he's done, he pulls away, pressing a gentle kiss to the marks he's created on your neck before he pulls you into his lap, waiting for you to wake up so he can propose like he's been wanting to. Now that he's sure that you won't ever leave him, he can give you his mother's ring he's kept in his jewelry box since the day she passed. She told him to give it to the person that owns his heart and he thinks after over a hundred years, he's finally found the right person.

[atinyjules]

Denial Never Looked So Good Ft. Werewolf!Yuma

A/n: Hello, hello! Back with Yuma! I love him so much but I feel bad that there isn't much fics on him. I'll try to change that!

Genre: Werewolf au, Fantasy, Romance, Fluff, Humor

Pairings: Werewolf!Yuma x Vampire!Ayane

Warnings: none

Prom was right around the corner, and Yuma was in his room, forehead pressed against the cold window, staring blankly at nothing.

How did Taki get a date before him?

Not that he had anything against the guy. Taki was... fine. Harmless. A little too enthusiastic about cookies. But Yuma was taller. Cooler. His ears didn't twitch uncontrollably every time someone said the word "crush." Yet somehow, Taki—clumsy, loud, perpetually confused Taki—got a yes before he did.

So unfair.

Everyone in the dorm had a date now. K had secured his three weeks ago and wouldn't shut up about it. Fuma had casually mentioned his plans and then smirked like he’d known all along he wouldn’t be attending solo. EJ got asked out—asked—by someone from the enchantment class. Nicholas and Jo had double dates lined up with two charm majors from upstairs. Harua didn’t even try. A girl from the archery team dropped her number into his lunch tray with a smile.

Even Maki. Silent, broody Maki who never talked to anyone unless they had a book in hand. Apparently, some witch girl found that "hot."

And Yuma?

Yuma got rejected.

Every. Single. Time.

It wasn’t like he was being weird about it. He was polite. Casual. He asked three girls from potions, one vampire from fencing, a selkie who sat near him in magical theory—and each time they smiled awkwardly, looked away, and said something like "maybe next time" or "I have to check with my familiar" or just flat out laughed.

What did they have against him? Was there some secret anti-Yuma alliance? A hidden curse? A rumor going around that he sheds?

He sighed and flopped backwards onto his bed, arms spread wide like a man in mourning. The dorm buzzed around him with the usual noise—K rehearsing dramatic lines in the hallway, Nicholas yelling about bowties, someone blasting music two rooms down. He closed his eyes.

It wasn’t about the dance.

It was the principle.

He wasn’t about to be the only werewolf in the entire dorm without a date. Not when even Taki had secured one by smiling too hard at a necromancer in detention. Not when Jo kept referring to himself as "taken, sorry" like he was suddenly irresistible.

There were still girls left. He had a list. Sort of. Mostly mental. But it counted.

If it came down to it, he’d just keep asking until someone said yes.

He sat up slowly, arms resting on his knees. There was a girl in his magical history class who always wore gloves. Had he tried her yet?

He couldn’t remember.

Didn’t matter.

There was still hope.

He was determined.

And he was not—not—letting Taki win.

Yuma woke up early the next day.

Unreasonably early.

The sun hadn’t even fully risen, and yet there he was, standing in front of the mirror, toothbrush hanging from his mouth, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to flatten the one lock of hair that refused to cooperate. He spat, rinsed, and pulled a comb through his hair for the third time.

Today was the day.

He was going to find a date.

No matter what.

—

By the time he got to his first class, he was ready. Clean hoodie. Half-decent cologne. Confident posture. He asked the first girl the moment they sat down.

She already had a date.

The second girl gave him a smile and said she’d rather go with her coven sisters.

The third just said, “No thanks,” and turned back to her runes notebook.

By mid-morning, he had struck out five times.

By the end of the third class, he stopped counting.

When lunch came, Yuma dragged himself out to the bleachers instead of the cafeteria. He rested his arms on the railing, head tipped back as the warm sun lit up his face, the breeze playing with his hair. He closed his eyes.

Maybe he was cursed.

That’s when he heard footsteps.

Slow, careful, oddly delicate footsteps crossing the field.

He cracked one eye open.

There was a girl he’d never seen before.

She moved like she didn’t want to be seen, and yet, she was impossible to miss. Her dress was long and black—simple, but elegant in a way that somehow looked expensive despite showing no skin. A lace-trimmed bonnet sat on her head, the veil attached to it shadowing her face. She held a black umbrella above her as she made her way toward the cafeteria like a drifting ghost, unbothered by the noise or people around her.

Yuma blinked.

He didn’t know why, but something about her stuck in his brain.

—

Over the next few days, the rejections piled up.

He tried casual. He tried bold. He even tried a pickup line Nicholas dared him to use, and it was so bad he wanted to crawl into a locker and stay there.

But through it all, he kept seeing her.

The girl in black.

She was always by herself. Quiet. Never sat with anyone. Sometimes she read in the shade, other times she just passed through the halls like she wasn’t really there. Always the veil. Always the umbrella.

He didn’t even know her name.

And yet... he started to look for her.

He told himself it was just because she was unfamiliar. A curiosity. A break in the routine of endless “no”s.

That was all.

—

One afternoon, during rugby practice, he was mid-jump, arms outstretched as the ball sailed toward him.

And then he saw her again.

Standing in the distance, under a tree, holding her umbrella with both hands.

She wasn’t looking at him. Maybe not even at the field. Just... existing.

Yuma caught the ball with a grunt, stumbled slightly, then broke into a laugh as he straightened up.

She was weird.

And somehow, he was starting to find that kind of interesting.

Two weeks later, Yuma had been rejected so many times he stopped keeping track. It stopped being frustrating somewhere around rejection fifteen. At this point, he just floated through the motions like a ghost with decent hair and a decent personality that no one apparently wanted.

His dormmates had started pitying him more than ever. K patted his back whenever he passed him in the hallway. EJ left sympathy cookies on his desk. Even Maki, who barely showed emotion, gave him a soft, understanding nod at breakfast like he was mourning something deeply personal.

Taki didn’t say anything. He just looked at him with sad, round eyes, like he couldn’t believe he’d surpassed Yuma in anything.

It should’ve been depressing.

But Yuma? He was actually fine.

A little dead inside, maybe, but fine.

—

The cafeteria was full that day. Like shoulder-to-shoulder, magically expanded tables full. Yuma stood in the doorway with his lunch tray, scanning the room and preparing himself for the worst.

That’s when he spotted the individual seating area near the back wall—quiet, barely lit, usually avoided by loud groups.

There was one empty seat.

And it was next to her.

The girl in black.

His brain paused. His legs didn’t.

He walked over before he could think about it too much. She was already sitting, posture relaxed, one hand holding a burger, her face still mostly hidden by the veil from her bonnet. Her black umbrella leaned against the wall beside her.

He sat down quietly, not wanting to disturb her, and started eating his lunch too. A beat passed. Then another.

She took a bite of her burger, unfazed by his presence.

He glanced at her. Then, casually, with no expectations left in his heart, he asked,

“You got a date for the dance?”

She turned slightly, and since her mouth was still full, she just shook her head.

His heart thumped.

Like, actually thumped.

He blinked and said, “Cool. Wanna go with me?”

She didn’t hesitate.

“Sure.”

Yuma froze.

She’d said yes.

She’d actually said yes.

Not just any girl—her. The one he’d been noticing for weeks. The one he didn’t even know how to talk to. The one who intrigued him enough that he found himself looking for her without meaning to.

He smiled—genuinely, brightly, wider than he had in days.

“Great,” he said, a little stunned.

Then she reached up and removed her bonnet, fingers working at the ties with a quiet mutter.

“It’s getting harder to wear this thing during lunch,” she said under her breath.

And then he saw her.

For the first time, clearly.

Her skin was pale, like porcelain. Her eyes were the color of molten glass—shimmering and unreadable. Her lips were soft and a little red from the burger. Her features were delicate and deadly at the same time, like something sculpted by a vampire artist centuries ago.

She looked at him.

“Yuma, right?”

He could barely nod.

“…Yeah.”

She gave him a small smile.

“Cool.”

And went back to eating like she hadn’t just accepted his invitation and revealed herself like a calm hurricane.

Yuma blinked, then looked back down at his tray.

This was real.

This was happening.

And apparently… he had a date.

She took another bite of her burger before glancing at him again.

“I’m Ayane, by the way.”

Yuma stared at her for a beat too long.

Ayane.

Of course that was her name. A name that sounded like it belonged in some ancient vampire tale or a haunting ballad sung in the woods.

He blinked and looked down at his food.

Even her name was gorgeous.

He already knew he was in trouble.

“Ayane,” he repeated, a little dazed, then looked back up at her. “I’m still trying to process that you said yes.”

She smiled, subtle but amused. “Should I take it back?”

“No—no. You’re good. Just… surprised.”

There was a pause. Then curiosity won out.

“Why do you always wear that bonnet?” he asked, nodding at the fabric resting on the table.

Ayane brushed a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “The sun’s too bright. I get sunburned easily. It literally burns sometimes. Even if it’s just a few minutes.”

“But the other vampires aren’t like that,” Yuma said, brows furrowed.

She nodded. “Yeah. They’re fine. My skin’s just… sensitive. Always has been.”

He glanced at her again. Her cheeks were flushed—faint, but visible under the soft cafeteria lighting. It probably was getting too warm for her.

Without thinking, Yuma reached into his bag, pulled out a folded piece of lined paper, and started fanning her with it.

Ayane blinked, caught off guard.

“…What are you doing?”

“You looked hot,” he said simply.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but not in irritation—just curiosity.

“You’re fanning me with… your history notes?”

“Yep.”

She looked at him. Then at the paper. Then back at him.

And for the first time since he sat down, Ayane laughed quietly under her breath, a soft little sound that didn’t match her usual silent presence.

“…You’re strange.”

“You said yes to me. That makes two of us.”

She smiled again, eyes warmer this time, and leaned just slightly closer to let him keep fanning her.

Yuma sat there with one hand awkwardly waving the paper, heart doing whatever it wanted in his chest, and wondered how on earth this was happening—but for once, didn’t feel the need to question it too hard.

That night, the dorm was in chaos.

Not because anything serious had happened.

But because Yuma told them he got a date.

And no one believed him.

“You don’t have to lie, man,” Nicholas said, flopped across the couch with a face mask sliding off his cheek. “We support you even if you go solo. You’re still hot.”

“I’m not lying,” Yuma said, standing in the middle of the living room, arms out, genuinely baffled. “Why would I lie about this?”

EJ looked up from his phone. “Because you’ve been rejected twenty-one times and counting?”

“Twenty-three,” Maki corrected without looking up from his book.

“Twenty-three,” EJ repeated with a sympathetic wince. “Exactly.”

Harua appeared in the hallway holding a steaming mug. “Is this about the imaginary girl again?”

“She’s not imaginary!” Yuma snapped.

K leaned over the kitchen counter dramatically. “What’s her name, then?”

“Ayane.”

They all paused.

“Never heard of her,” Jo muttered.

“That’s because she’s quiet,” Yuma said. “I saw her at lunch. We sat together. She was eating a burger. She said yes.”

Taki squinted from where he was curled up on the rug. “Wait… is she the one with the creepy umbrella and the hat that covers her face? The one who looks like she floats instead of walks?”

Yuma pointed. “Yes! That one!”

Everyone stared at him.

Silence.

Then Nicholas said, “Dude, you hallucinated your way into a yes.”

“I didn’t hallucinate anything!”

“I get it,” K said, nodding gravely. “It’s the stress. You’re projecting your ideal date onto the cafeteria ghost girl.”

“She’s not a ghost!”

“You don’t know that,” Jo muttered. “I’ve never seen her eat before. What if the burger was a trick?”

“She literally bit it.”

“Maybe it was a shadow illusion.”

Yuma groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Oh my god. She’s real. She’s hot. She has a name. She said yes.”

EJ gave him the most pitying look of all. “Buddy… we love you. But you’re in denial.”

“I’m not in denial!”

“You’re yelling.”

“I have to yell!”

“Do you want one of my cookies?” Taki offered gently. “They’re from a cursed bakery but they helped me feel better when I got rejected.”

Yuma threw his hands up and stormed into his room, muttering under his breath.

Behind the door, his heart was still beating a little fast from earlier, from the way she smiled, the way she said his name. From the way he’d made her laugh.

Let them believe what they wanted.

He’d prove it soon enough.

Later that night, after the noise in the dorm died down and everyone had settled into their post-dinner chaos or sleep, Yuma shifted.

He didn’t shift often unless he needed to blow off steam or think. But tonight, he couldn’t sit still. Not after being called delusional in eight different ways.

The cool air hit his fur as he padded through the trees, paws crunching softly against fallen leaves. The forest behind the academy stretched quiet and endless, soaked in moonlight. He didn’t have a destination in mind—he just moved, letting instinct guide him.

That’s when he saw her.

A dark shape near the cliffs. Familiar… but different.

Ayane.

She sat near the edge, her long hair spilling freely down her back like ink over silk. Her bonnet was gone. So were the layers of dark fabric and veils. Instead, she wore a black nightgown—simple, thin straps over pale shoulders, the material light and swaying with the breeze. Under the moonlight, she looked ethereal. Almost unreal.

Yuma froze.

She turned her head slowly, sensing him.

Her eyes met his.

She didn’t flinch.

Instead, she held out a hand toward him, palm open and gentle.

He hesitated for only a second, then padded closer, lowering his head as he approached. She didn’t pull away. When he was close enough, her fingers brushed through the fur on his head, soft and cautious at first.

Then again.

Then again.

Yuma let out a slow breath, something content rumbling in his chest as he sat beside her.

Her touch lingered in his fur. Her fingers stilled, resting between his ears as she leaned in, peering into his golden eyes with something unreadable in her gaze.

“Yuma?” she asked softly.

He blinked.

And for some reason, in that moment, he didn’t want to change back.

She knew.

And she didn’t seem scared.

Not even a little.

Just… curious.

Maybe even calm.

She smiled, brushing her fingers through his fur once more as her hair shifted in the breeze.

“You’re a good wolf,” she whispered like it was a secret meant just for him.

Ayane’s hand stayed on his head, her fingers trailing gently through his fur like she wasn’t afraid. Like she was used to silence. Like she didn’t expect words.

Her voice came softly.

“What are you doing out here?”

Yuma didn’t respond, just blinked slowly and let her keep petting him. The night air was cool. The grass beneath them swayed lightly, the cliff humming with wind and stars.

She didn’t push for an answer.

But after a long moment, Yuma stepped back, just a bit, and shifted.

The silver shimmer of his fur pulled inward until he sat cross-legged beside her, human again, his hoodie a little loose around his shoulders. He ran a hand through his messy hair and let out a quiet sigh.

“Friends annoyed me,” he muttered.

Ayane chuckled softly, looking out at the cliff again. “That’s a daily occurrence.”

He huffed a laugh. “They don’t believe I actually have a date.”

She smiled faintly, her gaze still on the moonlit trees. “That why you came out here? To sulk?”

“Not sulking,” he said defensively. “Just… walking.”

Ayane said nothing to that. She just tilted her head slightly, the wind brushing through her loose hair.

“It’s weird seeing you without the bonnet,” Yuma admitted after a beat.

“Yeah,” she said. “It’s weird for me too.”

He glanced over.

“I don’t wanna wear it either,” she added. “But it gets too bright. Even if it’s cloudy, the light stings my skin. I get blotchy and itchy, and it’s just—annoying.”

Yuma frowned. Her skin had looked flushed earlier. And she’d still smiled at him, said yes, sat beside him like it was nothing.

“That sucks,” he said quietly.

She shrugged. “It’s manageable. Just hot.”

He looked at her again, sitting there in the dark without layers, and something about it bothered him—not her, but the fact that she had to hide all the time just to be comfortable.

“I can help,” he said suddenly.

Ayane turned to him, brows raising slightly. “Help?”

“Yeah. Come without the bonnet tomorrow.”

She blinked, unsure if she heard him right. “What?”

“You don’t have to wear it,” he said. “I’ll help. Just… trust me.”

She stared at him for a moment, searching his expression. His voice wasn’t teasing. His eyes weren’t mocking. He meant it. She didn’t know how, or what he had in mind, but… she found herself nodding before she could think too hard about it.

“…Okay.”

Yuma smiled at that, soft and genuine.

“Cool.”

And for a while, they sat there quietly together, two silhouettes on a cliff under a pale sky, with only the wind and stars to witness the moment.

—

The next morning, Yuma got to school early.

For once, he wasn’t dragging himself in half-asleep or rushing last minute. He walked to the usual courtyard path with something buzzing beneath his skin—a quiet energy, steady and calm.

And there she was.

Ayane stood under the shade of a tall tree near the entrance, bonnet-less, her long dark hair pulled loosely behind her. Her expression was unreadable as always, but her hands were folded neatly in front of her, and she seemed... still. Not anxious. Not hiding. Just waiting.

Yuma smiled.

“You came,” he said as he reached her.

“I said I would,” she replied simply. “But I’m still not sure why.”

He stepped closer and opened his palm between them.

“Let me show you.”

In his hand, a soft glow flickered to life—gentle, bluish-silver and warm, like morning mist turned into magic. The energy hovered in a small, pulsing orb, steady and alive.

Ayane stared, intrigued.

Then he clenched his fist.

The orb collapsed into a burst of shimmering particles—like powdered moonlight—and he lifted his hand, letting the soft dust fall over her like a breeze. It clung to her skin for a moment, before dissolving into nothing.

She blinked, confused.

“What… was that?”

“You said the sun burns, right?” he asked. “My power controls temperature—my wolf side, at least. Heat, cold, surface energy stuff. So I adjusted it.”

He nodded toward the sunlight beyond the trees.

“You can walk in the sun now. You won’t overheat. No burning.”

She blinked again.

“You’re joking.”

“Try it.”

Ayane looked at him, then at the sunlight just past the line of shade. Her body tensed, just slightly, like she was expecting pain.

But she stepped forward anyway.

One foot.

Then the other.

Into the sun.

And nothing happened.

No burning sensation. No prickling skin. No rising heat in her chest or under her eyes. She paused, eyes wide, and looked down at her bare arms.

Instead of pain, she felt a cool sensation—like walking through a shadowed breeze.

She gasped.

Not loud, not theatrical. Just a short breath of surprise.

Then she turned to him.

“…You weren’t kidding.”

Yuma shrugged, grinning. “Told you I’d help.”

She stared at him for a moment longer, then looked back at the light surrounding her. The way her hair caught in it. The way she felt normal—maybe for the first time since arriving at the academy.

“…Thank you,” she said softly, almost unsure of how to say it.

Yuma just stuck his hands in his pockets and gave a crooked smile.

“No problem.”

Ayane stood in the sunlight for a moment longer, as if making sure it wasn’t a dream. Her hands lifted slightly, feeling the air against her skin. Her eyes shimmered with a quiet kind of wonder.

Then she turned to Yuma again, still barefoot in the light, her expression softer than he’d ever seen it.

She smiled.

Not the distant, mysterious smile she wore when passing through hallways like a ghost, but something warm. Close. Real.

Then, without warning, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms gently around him.

Yuma froze.

Her body was cool against his hoodie, her hair brushing his jaw as she leaned in.

“Thank you so much, Yuma,” she said, voice muffled against his shoulder.

His heart slammed against his ribs.

Before he could even register what was happening, she pulled back just enough to lean up slightly and press a soft kiss to his cheek.

Warm. Barely there.

But it hit like lightning.

She stepped back again, her smile shy now, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear as her cheeks turned faintly pink.

Yuma blinked. Then blinked again.

“…Uh…”

She laughed under her breath.

“I’ll see you in class,” she said, turning and walking toward the main building—no umbrella, no bonnet, no layers.

Just her.

And Yuma stood frozen in the courtyard with his hands still in his pockets, cheek tingling, heart racing, and absolutely zero ability to process anything that just happened.

“…What the hell,” he muttered to himself, smiling helplessly.

—

Lunch that day was louder than usual. Prom week always turned the cafeteria into a circus of flower petals, perfume spells, and frantic last-minute asking.

Yuma walked in a little late, hair slightly messy from sparring class, hoodie sleeves pushed up. He scanned the room once, ignoring the stares and whispers that followed him now—ever since people saw her with him.

He spotted Ayane sitting alone, as usual.

Except not really as usual.

No veil. No umbrella. Just her—dark hair cascading freely over her shoulders, her black uniform catching faint sunlight through the window. She looked like a painting someone accidentally brought to life.

He jogged over, slowing his steps as he neared.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, sliding into the seat across from her. “Got cornered by Jo and his fifteen prom theories.”

Ayane looked up and smiled gently. “It’s fine. I didn’t wait long.”

Yuma scratched the back of his neck, then cleared his throat.

“Actually…” he reached into his bag and pulled something out—carefully wrapped in a cloth to keep it protected.

Ayane tilted her head curiously as he unfolded it.

A corsage.

Black roses twined together with soft, shimmery ribbons and sleek raven feathers. It shimmered faintly, enchanted to catch the light just right. There was a small silver charm nestled at the center—an intricate moon engraved with delicate stars.

He held it out to her, looking a little nervous but smiling anyway.

“This is for you. And also… I wanted to formally ask.”

He swallowed.

“Ayane, would you go to prom with me?”

For a moment, she just looked at him.

Then, slowly, she smiled.

“I’d love to,” she said softly.

And she brought her hand forward, palm up, slender fingers ready.

Yuma grinned as he slipped the corsage gently onto her wrist, careful not to press too hard against her porcelain skin.

It fit perfectly.

Just like her answer.

As Ayane admired the corsage on her wrist, the shimmer of black roses and feathers catching the light, Yuma gently reached forward and took her hand in his.

Without a word, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles.

Her breath caught.

Her cheeks, usually pale and cool, flushed with sudden warmth as she blinked at him in surprise. For a split second, she didn’t speak.

Then she smiled, small but real, and let out a quiet laugh.

“You’re such a gentleman,” she said, almost teasing.

Yuma grinned. “Trying my best.”

They both chuckled, and for a moment, the noise of the cafeteria blurred into the background.

Then he reached into his bag again and pulled out a small, neatly packed box.

He placed it in front of her.

She looked down curiously and opened it.

Inside was a freshly wrapped burger—perfectly warm, still soft, just the way she liked it.

Her smile widened instantly, eyes lighting up with quiet delight.

“I figured…” Yuma rubbed the back of his neck, trying to sound casual. “You were eating one the first time we talked, and again the next day… and the day after that. So, you must really like them.”

Ayane nodded slowly, eyes still on the box.

“I love them,” she said, voice gentle but sure. “I’ve tried food from a hundred different places, but nothing beats a good burger.”

Yuma leaned on the table with a small smirk. “You say that like you’ve lived for a hundred years.”

She lifted her gaze, just enough to meet his.

“…Maybe I have,” she said with a sly look.

They both laughed again, and for a moment, it didn’t matter how many people were staring. Didn’t matter that two weeks ago, Yuma was the most rejected guy in school.

Because now, he had a yes.

From her.

And that changed everything.

Ayane took a bite of the burger, clearly enjoying it more than someone should reasonably enjoy cafeteria food. Her eyes fluttered closed for a second, and she let out the tiniest hum of approval. Yuma just watched her with a small smile tugging at his lips.

There was a pause between them—comfortable, a little warm, and buzzing with something unspoken.

He leaned forward slightly.

“…Can I kiss you?” he asked after they finished eating.

She looked up at him, and blinked once.

Then smiled.

“Sure.”

Yuma didn’t hesitate. He leaned in slowly, giving her time to change her mind—but she didn’t.

Their lips met, soft and quiet, nothing dramatic or overly rehearsed. Just a simple kiss that felt like it belonged there—like it made sense.

When he pulled back, Ayane’s eyes were still on his, her expression calm but slightly pink.

“I liked that,” Yuma said, voice a little dazed but honest.

Ayane’s lips curved into a small smile again.

“Me too.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, nervous but trying not to show it. “So… do you wanna date?”

She didn’t hesitate this time.

"Yes.”

That was it.

No fireworks. No big dramatic moment. Just two people—both a little strange, a little guarded—sitting at a lunch table with a can pf soda between them, quietly deciding that they wanted more of this.

More of each other.

And honestly?

That was more than enough.

—

Prom night.

The gymnasium was glowing—golden lights strung overhead, floating candles bobbing near the ceiling, and a spell-enhanced mist curling at everyone’s ankles like a dreamy cloud.

Yuma stood just outside the entrance, hands in his pockets, leaning against a pillar under the glowing archway. He’d been waiting for a while.

And naturally, his dormmates were all over it.

“Dude, you can drop the act now,” Nicholas said, straightening his cufflinks. “Just come in and vibe. Solo’s not that bad.”

“It’s kind of sad at this point,” Harua added, sipping enchanted punch. “You’ve been committed to the bit for too long.”

K raised an eyebrow. “Is this like a mental exercise? Are you manifesting a date into existence?”

“I told you guys,” Yuma said calmly, not moving. “She’s coming.”

Jo nudged EJ with a dramatic sigh. “Denial’s a powerful thing.”

Even Taki patted his shoulder gently. “It’s okay. We’re proud of you for holding on this long.”

Yuma was about to roll his eyes when the air shifted.

And then she walked in.

The room tilted.

Every head turned.

She wore a black, floor-length dress that shimmered under the lights like night sky silk. The neckline framed her shoulders perfectly, and her dark hair was swept elegantly to one side. No veil. No bonnet. Just Ayane, radiant and confident, walking slowly through the doorway like she belonged there all along.

The guys froze.

“What the—” Nicholas blinked.

“Who is that?” Jo whispered.

Maki, for once, looked stunned. “Wait…”

Ayane approached them, completely unbothered by the stares, the whispers, the way the crowd seemed to part for her like water.

She stopped in front of Yuma and smiled softly.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, voice calm.

Yuma returned the smile like nothing else in the world mattered. “It’s fine.”

He glanced over her dress once, then back to her eyes.

“You look gorgeous.”

Ayane’s smile widened slightly, and before anyone could recover from their shock, Yuma leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her lips—just a brief one, easy and warm, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The boys behind him absolutely short-circuited.

He leaned back, his hand lightly brushing hers.

“Dance?"

Ayane nodded, her eyes gleaming.

“I’d love to.”

He took her hand, and the two of them stepped past the frozen group and onto the dance floor, leaving behind stunned silence and slack jaws in their wake.

Inside, the music shifted into something slower, dreamier.

And as Yuma pulled Ayane close under the golden lights, she rested her hand gently against his chest, her smile still lingering like the spark of a secret.

The music inside swelled as Yuma and Ayane moved together, her dress gliding like liquid shadow, his hand steady on her waist. He twirled her once—not too showy, just enough to make her laugh softly—and pulled her back in with an ease that looked almost rehearsed.

Except they hadn’t rehearsed anything.

They just fit.

At the entrance, the boys stood frozen.

Every single one of them.

Mouths slightly open.

Eyes wide.

Souls visibly leaving their bodies.

“…That’s her?” Nicholas finally whispered. “That’s Ayane?”

“The veil girl?” Harua choked.

“I—I didn’t think she had a face,” Taki whispered in shock.

“She has a gorgeous face,” Jo muttered. “Why does she have a gorgeous face?”

EJ didn’t speak. He just stared in silent disbelief, one hand slowly lowering his drink.

Maki pushed his glasses up slowly. “I retract everything I’ve ever said.”

K looked like he’d seen a ghost. Or a goddess. “You mean to tell me… all this time… he wasn’t lying?”

Out on the dance floor, Yuma laughed—actually laughed—as Ayane spun in and bumped lightly into his chest, smiling up at him. He said something that made her chuckle, and she nudged him with her shoulder, rolling her eyes fondly.

They looked like something out of a movie. Effortless. Real.

And above all—completely unbothered by the literal group of stunned werewolves still trying to process reality.

Taki finally broke the silence again.

“…Does this mean we have to apologize?”

Jo was still gaping. “I think it means we were witnesses to a prophecy.”

Nicholas slowly nodded, dazed. “He really won.”

K just groaned quietly, hands on his hips.

“Okay,” he muttered. “Okay, but how?”

Back on the dance floor, Yuma caught them all staring and grinned.

Then he winked.

Ayane turned to see what he was looking at, and when she spotted them too, she gave the boys a graceful little wave.

Every one of them flinched like they'd been physically hit.

“Yeah,” EJ finally said, voice hollow. “We’ve lost him.”

That's it for this one!

I made the confession low key for a change 😭

I hope y'all liked it 🥹 ✨️

Likes and rebloggs are appreciated 🤍 ✨️

[fandoms--fluff]

Baking Lesson

Flufftober, October 1st

Vampire reader x Hope Mikaelson and Lizzie Saltzman

Summary: You attempt to give Hope and Lizzie a baking lesson.

Warnings: None

A/n: I've always headcannoned that Hope and Lizzie are both horrible at any type of cooking or baking, so I finally wrote something about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Alright, you girls ready?" You tie your apron strings around your waist.

"Yeah" Hope says, also in an apron. "Why do we need to wear these awful things? It's a fashion nightmare" Lizzie states her opinion.

"To protect your clothing from getting any food on it in the process" You answer, a smile pulling at your lips.

You've already pulled all of the ingredients to make chocolate chip cookies out of the fridge and cupboards. And they're splayed out on the counter surface.

"Okay. First things first, no touching the oven, I don't need you to burn yourselves, second, listen to my instructions carefully, And lastly, do not, and I mean DO NOT put any random things in the batter, whether you think it'd be 'good' or want to 'experiment'" You said, sighing. There's probably more that you could think of, but you'll leave them with those three for right now.

"Okay" Hope agreed. "Fine" Lizzie grumbled at the same time. In her opinion she's a great cook. So what, she's burned one or two, or everything she's ever tried to make, but she's getting better. Well, there weren't any big fires the last couple times, only smoke.

Okay maybe she did need this lesson along with Hope. Who also cannot cook anything to save her or anyone's life.

You slowly guide them step by step how to make the cookies. It started pretty good up until it got to cracking the eggs.

"How's it goi- Nope, stop right there" You turn from putting the flour away and vamp over to the girls. You take the eggs both of the girls were holding and grabbed the empty plastic bowl from the side and slide it over.

"Lets crack the eggs into this bowl instead of the batter bowl because I have a sneaking suspicion that there will be a mess of shells happening in there and we don't want to contaminate everything else.

"Okay, fair enough" Hope nods. "Also. How do you crack an egg? like without smashing it into the counter?" Lizzie adds, asking you.

"You don't know how to? Okay, i don't know why I'm surprised. So." You sigh. You explain and show them how to crack the egg carefully against the rim of the bowl before spilt the shell away, dumping the contents into the bowl before throwing the empty shell into the trash.

They latch onto the explanation and tutorial. Hope went first (totally not because Lizzie pushed her in front of the bowl) and she slowly recounts the steps you showed. She cracked the egg against the side of the plastic bowl, getting a bit of the egg goop on fingers while she pours it into it. But after it, she only got one chunk of the shell in the bowl but you easily took it out.

Lizzie went after and lets just say that she got a bit messy, but nothing hazardous. You cleaned up all the spilt egg and shell. Though by the end, the eggs were fine and you poured them into the batter bowl. You also got them to add the vanilla and a bit of milk.

You give the mixing spoon to Lizzie to stir it all up. You then lead Hope over to the tray and line it with her, showing her how to get a piece of parchment paper without ripping it down the middle by mistake.

"Good job" You tell her, smiling when she places the best piece of parchment over the tray in front of her and flattened it down.

"How's it going, Liz?" You turn back over to the blond siphoner. "Good, I think everything's mixed together"

You look into the bowl and nod. "Yeah, looks great. lets take it over to the trays" You smile.

You lead her with the bowl in her hands to the other counter where Hope stands. "Can you grab two of the ice cream scoops?" You ask her. "Yeah" Hope agrees and goes to the drawer where they're kept and takes two out and walks back over.

"Alright, now the sorta easy part. All you gotta do is scoop some of it in and then plop it on the tray in smaller roundish shapes. All you gotta do is make sure you don't spill it everywhere and not put too much or else it'll turn into a disaster while they're in the oven." You explain to the two of them. You get nods and affirmatives to the girls.

"Have at it" You tell them while you stand back leaning against the counter opposite while keeping an eye on them as they scoop and plop the batter onto the trays.

You put the trays in the oven once they were ready and also take it out once they were done. Because you honestly have no faith in either of them not accidentally burning themselves.

"Mmmm, they're so good" Lizzie groans while swallowing her first bite of cookie. Hope nods in agreement, taking another bite of her own.

"Yeah, they are. And now you guys have at least a subtle sense of how to bake. But please don't alone, come get me first or Josie, or anyone else who knows how to cook and can keep up with you both" You tell them before biting into your own cookie.

[cranberrymoons]

peppermint chocolate

prompt: came back wrong (@steddieholidaydrabbles) rated: m word count: 766 words tags: vampire eddie, morning fluff, established relationship

welcome to Day 2 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

---

So, it turns out vampires can go out in the sun after all, which is… good to know? They just can’t be out in direct sunlight for too long without whining about it, or – that might just be Eddie, actually, but he’s the only vampire who exists, or at least the only one Steve has ever met, so.

Whatever.

Steve never expected for the intricacies of vampire morphology to be relevant to his life. He also never expected to survive hell a half dozen times or get the shit kicked out of him about as often, but – here we are.

“Are you even really a vampire?” he’d asked when he got over the initial shock of Eddie being not dead. “I mean, you don’t fly, you don’t get burned by the sun, you’re eating garlic knots…”

And Eddie had looked up from the pizza he was actively shoveling into his mouth after a week presumed dead in an alternate dimension and just – shrugged. 

Because whatever? Who knows what he really is. 

The demogorgons aren’t actually demogorgons; that’s just what Dustin decided to call them. The Upside Down isn’t really the Upside Down; that’s just the best way to make it make sense in their brains. 

And the vampire currently sliding his arms around Steve’s waist and hooking a chin over his shoulder and yawning with the sharp points of little fangs sticking out is maybe not actually a vampire, but the kiss he presses into the crook of Steve’s neck comes with a little nip that breaks the skin and makes blood bead up to the surface. 

So… vampire. 

Steve is used to it enough by now that he just grunts around his toothbrush and rubs a hand over Eddie’s forearm in morning greeting. He tilts his head to get him to shift his teeth to the skin of his shoulder where he’ll be able to cover it more easily when he goes to work later, lets his eyes fall shut as he feels the familiar pinch and pull of Eddie finding a vein to tap into.

“That’s enough,” he says after a moment. 

He spits foam into the sink, and Eddie bends with him, still latched on. Steve feels his head start to spin with it, and he digs his nails into the back of Eddie’s hand to get his attention.

“Eddie. Enough.”

He feels the sharp points of his teeth pull out of his skin, and then the warm flat of his tongue laving over the pinpricks of the wound, and he takes a deep breath.

“Sorry,” Eddie says quietly. He presses a soft kiss to the mark, already healing over to be replaced by a bruise. “I’m hungry.”

Steve raises his eyebrows at Eddie where their eyes meet in the mirror. “You’ve got to let me eat something first before you take too much,” he reminds him. “There’s a reason they give you cookies when you donate blood.”

Eddie’s arms tighten their hold on his stomach, and Steve can feel the hot, hard press of him behind as he crowds in closer. He’s always like this right after he feeds: all hands and lips and tongue. He still eats normal food, too, but they’d figured out early on that he can’t go more than a few days without getting hungry for… well. 

The other thing.

Steve turns his head to give Eddie what he’s after, lets him push his tongue past his lips into his mouth and lick over the ridges of his teeth. There’s an iron tang in Eddie’s mouth that mixes with the minty toothpaste taste on Steve’s tongue, and it makes him inch closer, letting Eddie nudge him up onto the countertop, crowding between his legs to get closer.

Eddie’s stomach makes a ravenous noise, and Steve pulls back to run a hand over the flushed line of his cheek, pumping warm with his blood.

“Go make breakfast,” he says quietly. He brushes another kiss over Eddie’s mouth. “Please?”

Eddie hums. “Is that the deal? Pancakes for blood?”

“That’s the deal,” Steve says. He raises his eyebrows. “No breakfast for me, no breakfast for you.”

“In that case, maybe I’ll add chocolate chips,” Eddie says. He licks out and lets his tongue catch on the backs of Steve’s teeth. “Or peppermint. Sweeten you up a little more. Stick a straw in you like a juice box.”

Steve just smiles, tweaking the ends of his hair where his elbows are looped over Eddie’s shoulders. 

“If you make me mint chocolate chip pancakes, you can do whatever you want.”

[also on ao3]

[littlejuicebox]

Baking Cookies

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: First winter post-BG3 / You and Astarion live together and you’re trying to introduce him to “normal” traditions and things he may not have experienced before. Rating/Warnings: PG-13 / Holiday fluff / Sexual references / Maybe some mild in game spoilers Word Count: 1K Notes: This is 1/5 "Days of Star-mas!" Tried to keep this GN but please lmk if you caught something! :)

I'm also entering this into the #BG3HolidayFluffle23 challenge under the prompt "holiday spirit."

Click here to see my master list.

-----

“Darling, this entire thing seems to be quite the mess.” Astarion huffs, flicking his gaze over the bowls, trays, baking goods, and various accoutrements strewn across the counter.

“Well, my love, that’s kind of the point! To make a mess and have a bit of fun. It’s nothing we can’t clean up.” You respond, giving the rogue a small smile and a good-natured eye roll, “Now what’s next?”

You two are in the kitchen, the delicious smells of cinnamon and nutmeg wafting through the air. Astarion is leaning over the kitchen counter and returns to reading the baking instructions aloud to you as you knead the spiced cookie dough in your hands.

“After kneading, shape the dough to ready for baking. Well… how on earth are we supposed to shape it? That’s not very specific.” The vampire murmurs with an irritated huff, nose wrinkling in frustration. He really wasn’t thrilled about participating in this new Midwinter tradition of baking treats for all your friends, but you’d managed to convince him with a heavy dose of eyelash batting and a little bit of whining.

You giggle as you take the spiced dough from the bowl and begin rolling it out with a pin, sprinkling flour about the counter as you work. You nod your head at the gingerbread molds you purchased from the market earlier this week. “With the cookie molds, my love. Or we can twist the dough with our hands… you’ll see.”

Soon enough, you’ve put Astarion to work cutting out gingerbread cookies and placing them on the baking trays while you’re twisting your portion of the dough into shapes. You watch the rogue as he works, quite intently, on forming the little beings. He’d decided to give a few of the cookies horns and tails, of course, and you’d been thrilled to see him getting into the holiday spirit in his own way, so you allowed his artistic liberties.

“That one looks like Karlach!” You exclaim, as you see Astarion pressing horns and a tail onto a gingerbread form that he’s also given massive biceps.

“Exactly the point, my dear.” Astarion grins, as he places cookie-Karlach onto the final open spot in his tray. “And this one is Gale.” He gestures to a cookie cutout he’s pulled slightly to make it taller and thinner, holding a twisted staff in its hand.

You chuckle, and having just finished your own tray, take the cookies and place them in the oven to bake. As you turn back to your love, he’s holding his hand out to you and beckoning you closer to him. You quickly oblige.

“You’ve got a bit of sugar and spice on your face, darling.” Astarion whispers, moving to kiss your cheek. His tongue laps at the powder before he aims to kiss your lips and you’re enveloped in the sweet taste of sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, and him. The rogue grins mischievously, pulling back to look at you, white eyebrow cocked. “Hmm… looks like there might be some powder behind your ear and down your neck, as well.”

You roll your eyes at the vampire and his obvious lie as he moves to nibble your earlobe and then swirl his tongue behind it before trailing tiny kisses down your neck. When he pulls back again to admire you with scarlet eyes, you’re completely flushed.

“Are you satisfied with your little game now, my Star?” You ask, trying your best to chide the vampire and hide your smile.

Astarion turns toward the counter, and before you realize what he’s doing, he’s already dipped his long fingers into the remnants of the cookie spice mixture and turned back to you. He quickly drags his powder-coated hands down your neck, past the exposed parts of your chest, and across your arms. You’re covered in the sweet particles and staring at him, mouth open, brimming with shocked incredulity. He grins impishly and places a small boop of powder on your nose before you catch his hand in your own, scrunching your face at the rogue.

The vampire steps forward with a good-natured chuckle to kiss the spices off your nose before wrapping you in his arms. “Not satisfied quite yet, darling. And we have a bit of time to kill while those cookies bake.”

You roll your eyes at your lover, but relax your face and smile anyway, content to join the pale elf in his little game. “Hmm… I wonder what we could do with that time, my love.”

Astarion hums, feigning thinking, as his lips wander to your neck and his tongue drags a sticky trail of saliva and sweeteners back up to your ear. He whispers, voice low and gravelly in that way that makes your knees weak. “I have a few sticky and sweet ideas.”

You two spend the entire time the cookies are in the oven on the kitchen floor, creating quite the mess. Astarion is the one to stop the fun, pulling away from where his lips had been absolutely ravaging your own. “Pardon the interruption, my dear, but I think the cookies are about finished. I can smell them, and I think you might kill me if they burned."

The both of you stand and you peer into the oven. The vampire is correct, and you beam at him, placing a little loving kiss on his bloodhound nose. “That’s a wonderful hidden talent, my Star.”

You carefully remove the trays and place them on the counter to cool, admiring the efforts and handiwork that led to such beautifully browned pastries.

“Hm… those look delectable.” Astarion murmurs, cocking his head to appreciate the cookies before turning to look at you. “But you look even more delectable, my little treat. Now come here to me and let’s finish what we’ve started.”

You eagerly cross the few paces to your lover and Astarion is quickly upon you again, easily pulling you back to the kitchen floor and enveloping you in his love. And as promised, a sticky-sweet, fun mess is soon made all over the kitchen.

[walkawaytall]

You know, I have gone on a whole rant before about how the Cullens in Twilight aren’t even particularly old by vampire standards, and yet Edward gawks at Bella’s normal human behavior like she’s a zoo animal and acts like he doesn’t understand human food or whatever, all of which I find very funny because…you ate food within the past century, Edward! Why is this so fascinating to you?

But…uh…I haven’t eaten gluten in a little over a decade, and any time someone asks me if a gluten-free thing tastes like the real version, I’m like, “Girl, I don’t know! Do you trust my memory of a cookie from 2012???” Like, when I was living with my mom in 2019/2020, I made a sandwich for her when she wasn’t feeling well and touched regular sandwich bread for the first time in years and could have cried about how soft it was. So, honestly, maybe Stephenie Meyer was onto something.

[elliebyrrdwrites]

Draco the Vampire is back!

Look, this story is taking a long, crazy journey into the unknown. I have the most amazing beta working on the first part, which is complete (about two chapters) and I have just finished writing the second part (another two chapters) and am now diving into part 3. But I thought you beauties deserved a sneak peak into chapter 2. You've pretty much read all of chapter one if you've been keeping up here but since I have posted, I have edited and added/removed little things. Still, the story isn't lost. My goal is to get it mostly finished by Halloween so I can publish it onto Ao3 but who knows. It could take longer.

...

Granger shifts in her chair to look at me, angling her body toward mine. My hand remains holding hers and when I look back at her, I can feel something warm in her scent.

For some reason, it forces me to think of all the things I’m afraid for her to know.

Monsters do exist. I’m one of them. They are no longer human. No longer alive. But they aren’t quite dead.

All of the things she doesn’t want me to know are fizzing around her head. It’s there, between us, mixing with mine and silently, we accept it all.

She hated me, too. When I was alive and I remembered her, we hated each other.

And I can’t hate her now, even if I tried. I just want her. But that includes her blood. And part of her wants to give it to me.

But we tuck those things away and we smile instead. We hold on a little tighter.

“When I was a little girl,” she says as my thumb glides up and down the row of knuckles on her right hand. “I used to capture little moths or leaf bugs and I would drop them into the web of a hungry spider.”

Granger pauses and stares down at our hands, the way I can’t let go.

“I’d wait for the spider to come out of its little burrow, where it would hide and wait for prey to land. But I always felt bad and so, I’d scramble to get them out of the web before the spider struck. But sometimes,” her hand is so warm, like freshly baked cookies, that I have to lift it up to my nose and smell her skin. She watches me do it. “Sometimes, I was too late or I would just…freeze. I’d have to watch the spider win.”

She shakes her head. I watch the way the past that haunts her vanishes and her eyes get warm again, her lips lifting into another smile. “I don’t know why I did that.”

I don’t know why she told me that, but that night while I was pretending to sleep, her story replayed for me over and over. I pictured a little Granger, sweet and curious, rifling through the garden, searching out her next victim. I pictured her placing a little moth onto the web. And I watch her decide the poor insects fate.

When the spider beats her to the thing, I picture her crying.

Or maybe she smiles.

I don’t know, but something about the story moves me in a way that doesn’t feel real. I’m trying and trying to wrap my head around the moral of her story, the little bits and pieces she withheld, either because she’s ashamed or because she can’t remember. But I wonder. Maybe she sees a connection between me, her and the spider.

Regardless, for some reason, I feel moved. And as the sun starts to break over the horizon, stirring from its slumber, I can’t help noticing that, for the first time since I died, it feels like a new day.

When Theo greets me in the morning, sipping his cup of coffee, his brown hair still disheveled from sleep, I tell him that I want to go outside.

He lowers the mug from his lips and lifts a brow. “What do you want to do out there?”

I want to see if I have the power to save the moth before the spider catches it. But I don’t tell Theo that. Instead, I tell him that "I am tired of being cooped up. I miss the sun, the trees. It’s fall, you know. Just like you."

Theo’s lips lift in a smile that tells me he thinks he can't help but adore me. Still, he agrees and throws a coat over his pajamas and together, we go for a walk.

Last night, it rained. The street is reflecting the gray sky and the trees and their bright yellow leaves. Many of the leaves have fallen off of the branches and they’re all soft and wet. There’s clumps of them pushed to the edges of the sidewalk.

They’re all dead but somehow, they remain vibrant, even sodden and trampled.

“If you didn’t know me,” I start. “And you passed me on the street, would you know I was dead?”

Theo glances over as we keep walking down the wet concrete. “But, you’re not dead.”

“Aren’t I?”

“What dead things do you know have a heart that beats?”

I point to a tree as we pass under it. “Those leaves aren’t dead. Not yet. And they don’t have a heart.”

“The tree is keeping them alive.”

“Does the tree have a heart?”

He purses his lips and stares ahead. There’s a slight mist that has settled over us and the little drops of water cling to the strands of his hair.

“If the tree continues to receive nutrients and sun, then it will keep living.”

“What if I stop drinking blood?” I could fast.

“You’ll likely go insane. But, I don’t think you will die.”

“But you don’t know for certain.”

The cars passing by and our shoes squelching against the wet sidewalk are the only sounds as he considers my question. Finally he sighs and shakes his head. “No, I don’t know for certain.”

We reach the corner. There’s a bakery there, and it’s so bright against all of the gray outside. It reminds me of Granger.

Theo goes inside and buys a dozen macarons and when the cashier puts them in a box, he asks her to tie a pink ribbon around it, like a gift.

“Why did you wrap your pastries?” I ask as we walk back to his townhouse.

“They’re not for me.”

“Potter.” I guess and Theo’s nose crinkles and he says, like a curse,

“Potter.”

And all I can think is,

Granger.

I don’t know if it’s because it feels like a new day or if it’s because of the walk I took with Theo but I’ve decided to let go. That night, just as the sea begins to gobble up the sun, I sneak out of the house through my window on the third floor.

This high up, it’s like watching a television show but on a bigger screen. 

It’s still raining and there are people with umbrellas walking by. Across the street, a couple is arguing. The girl is crying and shaking her head and her boyfriend is reaching out for her, his eyes begging her to forgive him.

But I don’t like dramas.

I scan the street for something amusing. But, all I can see is the sad, tired looks on people coming home from a long day. I see moms who can’t pay the bills or the dads who spend time with their television instead of their kids.

I scale up the side of the building until I’m on the rooftop. It’s slippery because of the rain.

I lift my face up to the sky, soak up the rain and I inhale.

The last time Granger left after visiting, I sat on the roof and watched her walk away. I managed to hold onto her scent as she walked further and further away. I head East, which is the direction she took when she left.

I leap from building to building, and I don’t stop until I catch it.

It’s both dampened and magnified by the rain. Her scent grows stronger and stronger as I veer south. I’m tracking her down by her scent alone. It feels easy, natural. It’s part of my magic. 

Her building is taller than Theo’s but that’s because it has several smaller units built into it.

Granger is somewhere on the fourth floor. Thankfully, each unit has a balcony. So I use them, moving from one and then the other and then the other until I spot her. Between me and her, is a sliding glass door. Between that and her is a small square dining table.

She’s leaning against her kitchen counter and in front of her is a bowl of noodles and an open book. Her hair is piled on top of her head and several pieces are loose and hanging forward as she reads. She’s dressed in a pair of terry cloth shorts the color of bone and a thin shirt that is almost brown and almost gold. It’s short sleeved. I only ever see her in long sleeve shirts.

Her legs and her arms and her neck are bare.

It’s at this moment that I realize I require oxygen to some degree. Because I take a deep breath and slowly blow it out before I lift my hand and knock onto the glass door.

Granger jumps away from her book and her food to spin and finds me standing on her balcony, in the rain.

Her eyes flare wide in shock, but only for a moment. Because, then she’s hurrying over and unlocking the door and when the flimsy piece of glass is out of the way, we stare at each other. I’m staring at her through the rain as it falls on me, between us.

I think if I was stupid enough not to find her beautiful when I was alive, then maybe I deserved to die.

But I ask her, “Am I the spider, the bug or am I you?”

Her head shakes, just a little and she runs her tongue over their lips. “Draco,” she says. “You’re all of them. We all are.”

I accept her answer by stepping into her and taking her face in my wet hands and I crash my mouth into hers.

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

Changes chapter 42

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Julie was quiet as she looked at Michael. He was sitting on the edge of the roof, his head in his hands.

"How are you alive?"

"Y-you're being turned into a vampire, and this is what you ask?"

"You were declared dead, Julie. Everyone thought you were."

Her face dropped as she nodded quietly. "Maybe that's why no one ever came looking. No one ever did anything?"

"Your mom, she tried to alert the police, but your dad-"

"No shit," she mumbled. "He put me there." Julie was quiet for a moment. "Not that I remember..."

"How you were taken?" Michael asked, and as she nodded, he continued. "We were on summer camp three years ago, I think? Sam, you and I we eh- we hung out together daily, did all the activities together. But then, one day, your dad shows up. He said something was going on with your mom, and you had to come home now. You believed him. We all did. He was never really around, so him showing up like that made it seem serious."

It was quiet for a moment, before Michael continued.

"You packed your stuff in a hurry, jumped into his car, and that was the last we saw of you. You and your dad disappeared for five days, and then they found him. He was beaten up and covered in scratches and bruises, and you were nowhere to be seen. He didn't speak. He didn't let on what happened." He shook his head quietly, looking at his cousin. "Your mom never believed his story. She was certain that he did something to you. I don't know what happened, but I do know she's in an mental health clinic right now."

"She's alive?"

"Yeah."

"Why- why is she there? What was she like? I - i only remember making cookies with her once."

"She felt it was better for her if she went there, so she wouldn't end up going insane. But before all this she was really sweet. A lot like my mom, actually, now that I think of it."

Julie was about to say something in response when suddenly she was interrupted.

"Michael?"

Both of them looked up to see Star standing on the ground beneath them.

"How did you get up there?"

"I flew. You can do it too, just think about flying." Julie answered shortly.

"You don't like her?"

She shook her head as Star struggled to float, eventually grabbing onto the roofledge and pulling herself up. "Are you alright, Michael? I didn't want them to do this - to trick you. You're like me now..."

Michael looked at Star intensely, missing how Julie rolled her eyes.

"There is a way back!" Star continued, "I heard the boys talk about it! If the sire is killed, then-"

"You are not killing your sire," Julie growled, lifting Star up with a single hand, anger coursing through her veins. Max was a good man. He saved her, hell, he even saved Star. Julie would not let him get hurt. Not when he was the only true family she had left. "You chose this. If you regret it, find another way to fix it. I already lost too much because of you."

Star paled, struggling in Julie's hold before weakly nodding. "You killed yours." She breathed out.

"Mine tortured me. Yours wants to make sure you are comfortable where you live and you have everything you might need. Sense a difference there?"

"He's a monster!"

Michael stood there watching his long-lost cousin glaring at the girl he fancied. A lot. He shook his head, not wanting to pick sides. "Guys, don't do thi-"

"So was your family! So will I be if you go down this path. I already don't like you, Star," Julie growled, tightening her grip on the girl, "but I will destroy you, punish you in ways that make what your family did to me look like a walk in the park. You leave your sire alone."

Star nodded, gasping for air as she was dropped.

"What the fuck was that? Are you alright, Star?"

"Fine," she gasped, glaring at Julie. "I should've known better than to ask her for help."

"I saved your boyfriend. What else would you possibly want from me?" Julie glanced at her. "Why the fuck do you even waste your time bothering me with your presence when you have a younger brother to take care off?"

Star gasped, hurt by Julie's cold statement. Then her expression turned solemn. "He doesn't want to be around me anymore. He thinks I am responsible for mom's dead."

Julie was quiet for a moment, shaking her head slightly as she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

"That's why they went after Shelly?"

Star nodded, not knowing what to say.

"They killed people?"

"It's what vampires do, Michael," Julie said, looking at the sky. On the horizon, it was already getting brighter. "Get some sleep. The sun is coming up." She looked at Michael, still not truly believing he was family of hers. "Don't tell your mom about me. Not yet."

When Max came home, he was surprised to sense two other half vampires around the house. He was seated at the kitchen table, a bottle of wine popped open next to him when Julie walked in.

"Star wants to kill you."

Julie sat down across from him, leaning her head in her arms.

"She won't be able to."

"Did you know they changed some guy? Forced him to be a half, tricking him into it."

"I assume you already went there and put David in his place?"

"I tried."

"But?"

"I think that guy is my cousin? I - I don't really remember, but he seems familiar. I think he might be right. His stories, they made sense. I think?"

"We'll look into it, sweetheart," Max stood up and walked towards the fridge, handing her a fresh bottle of blood. "If he's right we can find your mom. What's his name?"

"Michael."

"Emerson?"

Julie looked at him with a puzzling expression. "Yeah... how do you know?"

"I just had a date with his mom."

Julie looked at him with a frown. "If Michael's telling the truth, she's my aunt..."

"We'll assume he is," Max gave her a soft smile. "I already told Lucy that you didn't remember what happened and that I fostered you after you went to the hospital," he told her, "so she shouldn't have to many questions as to why you're here."

"Michael said I'm legally dead."

"It's not uncommon if someone's been missing for a long time to be declared dead."

"So," she drank a sip from her blood, sighing softly. "What are we going to do?"

"You should meet her. And I think I should tell her some more about you. Just to lessen the shock."

Despite not liking the comic he had been given, Sam found himself wandering the boardwalk looking for the comicbook store. He couldn't help it. It was the only place around that seemed to suit him. Michael had settled well, making friends and hanging out with them. Lucy had gotten a job and even gone on a date. Sam was alone, most of the time, having only Nanook for company.

And despite not liking the Vampires Everywhere comic, he couldn't help but like the store. The weird kids running it seemed to like comics, and even though they were cold and distant, Sam couldn't help but wonder if they could possibly be friends. They shared a love for comics, so that must count for something right?

He walked into the store, not paying attention to the two adults sleeping in the corner behind the counter. Instead, he moved straight to the Marvel section, browsing the aisles when he finally saw them.

"So, what did you think of the comic we gave you?"

"I told you," Sam said with an apologetic smile, "I don't like horror comics. Story wise, it just isn't for me. The art was cool, though."

"Thanks."

Sam raised an eyebrow as he looked at the kid wearing a bandana.

"You made that comic?"

Both boys nodded. As they went on to explain that it was their task, their one true job to safe this town and possibly America from unspeakable evils, Sam could only think about one thing.

These boys made their own comic.

They were awesome.

Next chapter >

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Lich-Queen pt 2

Read pt 1 here

At the ground floor, the guests were already thronging. Vampire nobles sipped goblets of blood, chatting idly with the few fae that deigned to grace my crowning with their presence. Shapeshifters mingled with the Chosen emissaries of the gods. Even a small contingent of elves lurked mistrustfully in a corner, though there was not a human in sight.

I approached the elves, casting a slight glamour to obscure my fiendish appearance. It would not do to frighten them off, after all. “Hello, distinguished guests,” I said in Syvniqian, their native tongue. I had brushed up on my linguistics during those long, lonely nights whilst my sister flirted in court, and it finally paid off.

The lead elf, resplendent in a museli veil and robe-dress, long braid trailing the floor, said, “We appreciate the invitation, Lich-Queen. It is a rare honour to witness the rising of a new star. We are Saivere, Vice-Councilman of Sylvandor.”

My smile must have slipped when I heard that they only bothered to send the Vice-Councilman, for Saivere quickly added, “We mean no offense, Lich-Queen. Head-Councilwoman Naibara is currently with child, and she cannot undertake the journey to these lands.”

I forced a smile back onto my face. This was not the Ceredellian court, I reminded myself sternly. These people did not shun me for being low-born, for having not-quite-human features or a far more beautiful sister. When they said they meant no offense, they did not lie.

Nodding, I exchanged pleasantries with the rest of the delegation, before extricating myself. I could not show favouritism as a host, naturally. 

Oh, by Astril, I was a host at a court party! It gave me a thrill, and I wanted to giggle like a little girl, which was a most undignified look on a powerful Lich-Queen. 

I had to quickly cover it when a shapeshifter approached me. The shifter wore the body of an angel, wings the colour of salmon, hair twisted into a bun, and seemed vaguely masculine. He smiled and bobbed his head in a small bow. “Our leader politely requests your attention. She would like to speak to you regarding some international matters,” he said.

I nodded. “Thank you,” I told the shifter, turning to follow him through the hall. “Might you tell me what I may call you?”

Names were a touchy business, I had found, especially amongst inhumans. Elves, by and large, tolerated the use of their name by an equal or superior, but shifters and spirits were extremely prickly about the matter, often insisting on going by titles and nicknames instead. 

The shifter paused and titled his head to a side. “Ya know, I haven't quite thought about it,” he said, a hint of an accent creeping into his voice. “I was thinking Hashbrown, perhaps. Or Chocolate-cookie. Or maybe Cake. I do love human foodstuffs.”

I barely hid my wince. It was hard to tell a shifter's age, what with the whole shapeshifting, but this one? Yeah, he was a kid. And nobody, not even a kid, deserved to be saddled with a name like Cookie. At the same time… It was hilarious.

Amusement won over kindness, and I said, “Why, I am certain a powerful shifter warrior named Cake would shake fear into the hearts of any human who heard it,” I said wryly. “By the time you are fully grown, the mere mention of chocolate will frighten children into silence.”

“Ya really think so?!” He beamed at me. “My sis’ always tol' me I'd be a fool to call myself that. I'm so glad she was just teasin' me. Oh, thank you so much!” He briefly moved to embrace me, then remembered who I was and backed off, hand kept by his sides, though his wings were all aflutter.

The sudden breach of decorum should have irritated me, but it didn't. It made me feel slightly bad about messing with this overly-earnest kid. “I advise something like Brown, or Cho, however. Just to keep things subtle,” I suggested, trying to minimise the damage I was doing to this kid's credibility.

The shifter considered my words. Then a smile lit up his face. I meant that quite literally. In fact, he rather glowed, attracting curious glances. “Hash,” he announced. “You can call me Hash.”

“Sure, Hash,” I replied, smiling slightly. “Please, lead the way.”

He marched off towards the back of the hall, and I followed, appreciating how my guests moved aside to let me pass. I had always been the one doing the moving, in the past. They bowed and scuttled, my ghouls mingling amongst them, holding trays of hor d'oeuvres. Idly, I plucked one and put it in my mouth, savouring the explosion of salty roe.

The shifters were lounging in a corner, their leader a tall woman with the claws of a Lich and the greying skin of a ghoul. She rose when I approached, her mouth spreading into a sepulchral grin. “It is an honour to witness your coronation, Lich-Queen. Such an honour, that I have taken a Lich-form to honour your people,” she explained. “I hope I have done it justice.”

Looking at the gems encrusted on her high cheekbones and those eyes like shards of diamond, I could only say, “You have.” 

She was beautiful, with her long limbs and elegant toga. Suddenly, I felt like an awkward girl-child, struggling to stitch cloth whilst my sister was given lessons by the High Magician. Useless. Ugly. Unwanted. 

I shook my head and dropped my human guise. “I appreciate the effort,” I said, taking control of my tongue. “Now, what was the matter you wished to speak with me about?”

The shifter spread her hands and smiled. “This is the first gathering of inhumans in millennia. I hoped to ask you to call a meeting of us immortals. I have a… Proposal, of sorts. One that might be impolite to be mentioned in the presence of our elven siblings.”

I nodded, and tapped the sides of my face in the shifter gesture of agreement. “Certainly. If I may know what the matter is first, of course.” It would not do for them to surprise me before my new allies.

The shifter reciprocated my movements, and said, “We would like to suggest an alliance of all the immortals — to band together and reclai-”

The doors slammed open. I startled, missing the rest of the shifter's words. “Welcome Her Majesty, the Third Spirit Empress! The great Sucsu'anane No-clan has arrived,” Blood-toil, my doorman, announced, halting all conversation within the room.

Empress Sucsu'anane stood in to the fore, and… Well, I hated to say it, but she looked like a little girl playing at Queen. Her crown barely reached Blood-toil's elbow, and he was not a tall ghoul. Her eyes were wide and doll-like, their effect only exacerbated by her oversized dress, which spilled onto the floor. “Hello, sisters,” she said with an atrocious accent, pronouncing her ‘r’s like ‘e’s. “It is I.”

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

Hcs of dating chris raab and being a part of cky? Or if you don't do headcannons maybe something short about Halloween with the cky guys!

Be Afraid!

Y/N is (un)lucky enough to spend their Halloween with the Cky guys.

Gn!Reader

1.6k Words

(Fluff)

Warnings: Suggestive content, crude language, urine, fear

An: Aaaa I had so much fun with this ask!! I always loved Halloween, especially haunted houses, and I think you can definitely tell from this! XD

“Wow…” Bam leaned up against the snack table, eyes on the tv, the orange plastic tablecloth wrinkling under his hand, “That is just re-goddamn-diculous.” He smirked and furrowed his brow unbelievingly, turning to you, the vampire fangs he stuck in glinting in the light from the chandelier. “I mean, who even comes up with this shit?” Popping one of those Pillsbury pumpkin cookies into your mouth, you shrugged, “I dunno. Final Destination’s just like that! They’re makin’ a new one this year too...” The sugar cookie was still warm and gooey in your mouth, the fake vanilla scent filling your nostrils, ”Mmmm. God, tell April she did a great job with these- they’re spectacular.”

“Aaaahh!!” Your head whipped around as you heard a shriek from the kitchen. “Bam!” April called out- you could tell she really was upset at him with how she split his name up into two syllables. He snickered, not assuaging your nerves in the slightest as you created into the kitchen to go see whatever trouble he caused.

There, on the clear plastic middle shelf of the fridge, was the fakest looking severed head you had ever seen. It had to have been stolen from some cosmetology school dumpster and dunked in ketchup, but you could bet April fell for it- you did too for a second before you caught the blank look in its eyes. You couldn't help from snickering as you heard Bam in the other room, cracking up as his mom gave him a few smacks on the arm. What a start to the night.

You made your way over to the kitchen table, laden with solo cups of beer, standing near Ryan and Novak’s team. Novak bounced one of the ping pong balls that Dico Sharpied to look like eyeballs on the dark table, turning to glance at you, “Hey, Y/N! Wanna join? It’s me and Dunn against the mad scientist and the ballerina over there.” He gestured over to Rake and Raab on the other side of the table. Raab sighed, "C'mon, man! Ballerinas are cool!”

“Yeah, and what isn’t is that dick print you’re sportin under that tutu.” Ryan scoffed, receiving an eye roll from across the table. Novak sneakily handed you a ball and you palmed it. Rake came back at him while you were taking aim, glancing over his goofy costume glasses and firing back, “Yeah? And what’re you two, Crest Boy and Pube Face?” Squinting with determination, you gauged the trajectory as you listened to their comical bickering with a smile. “Well, Generic Mad Scientist, I am Evel Kinevil- and a damn sexy one, I may add-” Ryan put his hand on Novak’s shoulder while he bent down close to you, watching your ball bounce off the table, “And he is the Wolf Man.”

You sunk your ball into a plastic cup, beer splashing onto the mahogany. “Yes!!” You leapt up in celebration, giving Novak a hairy palmed high-five straight out of an ‘80s movie. “Don’t worry, Y/N- none of these pubic hairs are mine.” All the guys roared in laughter as you gaged, shaking your hand out in disgust.

Breaking the comotion, you heard a noise from the front door. The door being flung open, hurried steps, followed by the most blood curdling scream you had ever heard. Nobody moved. A moment later, the source of the scream flew into where you were all standing, throwing himself on the floor with a thud- it took a good few moments of his writhing for any of you to recognize it as Dico, clutching a bloody stump.

He almost had you for a second there, as his hysterical screaming morphing into giggles as he pulled his actual hand out of his gold embroidered pirate jacket sleeve. You sighed, leaning with your hands on your knees as the anxiety still remained in your stomach. “Dico!! You asshole!” He still was giggling as you delivered a few smacks to his shoulder as he stumbled up, adjusting his costume. “Hey, that was a good one- you believed it!” The guys giggled at your reaction, “Yeah! Y’damn near gave me a heart attack!”

“Alright, alright! Enough’a the chit chat…” Bam strutted over to the door with bravado, “We have somewhere to be!” Your head turned, looking around at the other guys, who seemed to be as confused as you were. You sighed at his usual dramatic TV star bullshit, “What are you talking about?” Instead of answering your question, he flamboyantly tossed his velvet cape with a flourish, strutting out the door.

“Are you serious?” Dunn pressed the phone to his ear with his shoulder as Bam gave him directions over the line- through it would’ve been just as easy to get them from Mapquest. After about half an hour of driving, night had fallen in the dense Scranton woods you had driven into. The heat in Ryan’s beater car didn’t work too well, so you were both chilled by the cool Pennsylvanian night air as you traversed deeper into the thickets on dusty filled dirt roads that shone in the one working headlight.

Eventually, after you thought you got lost a couple times, you arrived at your destination. Peering past a crowd of people out front, you got a look at your destination, which was some kind of haunted house. The building really looked the part- a decrepit Victorian mansion that’d definitely seen better days. The white portico porch was draped in cheap fake spiderwebs and large sheets of ripped, gauzy erosion cloth, and each one of the cathedral windows were entirely blacked out with what you could only assume were trash bags.

“Dude. I am not going in there.” Rake peered into the door as it periodically opened to let people in, the screams from inside flowing out before being quickly silenced with a slam. “Cmon, Rake. Don’t be such a sissy.” Novak hit him on the back playfully as Bam and Ryan snickered. Shaking his head, Rake retorted, “No! You know what? I’m-“ His panicked eyes flicked around, landing on one side of the house, trying to sound calm, “I’m just gonna hang with that hot Elvira by the cider stand, okay?” Dico laughed as he shuffled past you in line, earning a few jeers and chicken squawks. “Yeah, like you’re ever gonna get with her!”

Of course, everyone’s all brave until it’s their turn to go into the scary house. The whole lot of you got real quiet as you stood next in line at the door, every trace of bravery draining from your faces. You went cold, and you could feel yourself sweating bullets as the door creaked open and you were shuffled inside.

It was Bam, Ryan, and you to go in first. The strobe lights made it difficult to see what was bumping against you as you shuffled through, but you soon came to realize that it was a maze of bodies hanging from meat hooks. You could barely make out anything over the loud noises around you- chainsaws, screaming, and various squishy noises that drowned out any thoughts you might have besides fear.

“Aaaah!!!” However, you could pick up one sound- Bam’s high pitched scream as he practically tackled you. He sounded like a little girl, his eyes wide and terrified at whatever must’ve startled him, clinging to your side. After a second, his fight or flight instincts kicked in as he booked it down the hallway like a scared animal. Also having heard his shriek was Ryan, who seemed to switch on a dime from his cool demeanor, pushing past you, “Fuuuuuck this.” He disappeared down the dark hallway. So before you could say anything, you were left alone. Obviously, you reacted the way any normal person would.

“You chickenshits!!” Giving chase, your mind was entirely off of whatever was happening around you and now on getting those two idiots. Whatever the getting may entail, you hadn’t decided. “You ‘fuckin babies- get back here!!”

After what felt like an eternity, you caught up with them at the exit, the two playing it totally cool like they weren't just running for their lives a few seconds before. Exhausted, you unsteadily put your hands on your knees, panting, “You assholes…fuck…” Bam turned to Ryan, giving him a shrug and pretending not to know what you were talking about. Assholes.

Shortly after you came Raab, Novak, and Dico, passing around high fives and whooping about the experience. “Oh dude!! That was crazy- what about you?” Dico grinned, giddy like a little kid on Christmas- he really seemed to thrive in these kinds of insane, batshit environments. Raab, not so much, “Yeah! It was, uh- it was pretty cool!” He seemed a little shy at first, but he still seemed to have enjoyed the house. Novak craned his neck, snickering, “Dude…did you piss yourself?” He got a little defensive, explaining, “No, these’re ombré.” He gestured to his baby pink tights. “Yeah, then why’s the ombré dripping down your leg?” Bam piped up with a grin, still leaning against the siding with Ryan. Raab blushed, embarrassed, “It’s- it's just the light!!”

“Hey, Rake. How’d that date with Elvira go?” You cheekily grinned from your place in line for Cider, speaking up over the heavy metal music that they always blast outside of these kinds of haunted houses. He rolled his eyes, “Oh, fuck off.” Taking the foam takeaway coffee cup into your cold palm, the warm liquid made your skin tingle. Pulling it to your lips, the warm steam cut the chill that froze your nose. You grinned against the rim as you took a sip, the hot liquid and spice burning your tongue deliciously.

Another breeze blew through the trees as you all stood around and sipped your warm drinks, laughing and joking around with each other under the inky night.

[axisjr]

TIMING: While Wynne was in the hospital PARTIES: Nora @honeysmokedham & Wynne @ohwynne LOCATION: The Hospital SUMMARY: A freshly de-crystaled Nora goes to visit Wynne in the hospital after their run-in with a vampire cult. They are friends now. CONTENT WARNINGS: suicidal ideation tw

Nora’s body felt weird and light and wrong. Each movement she made felt awkward, she was already so used to accommodating the crystals pushing out of her skin. Now she was a blank canvas, stripped from everything she had felt made her her. Sure, it was nice to no longer be obsessed with the mines. Those thoughts had muddled her mind. They’d consumed her and eaten her from within until she was a shell of who she really was, and just a mouthpiece for the mines. Having her thoughts and her control back, that was nice. But there was still the part of her that longed for that version of her. A body that was beautiful. A creature she wanted to be. 

Whatever. Nora marched through the hospital, ignoring calls from a nurse asking her to sign in. She lost a security guard that had started following her with a series of ducking in and out of places she shouldn’t be. Finally she ended up in Wynne's room. Nora didn’t knock before she entered. She walked in, slumping down in the only seat that wasn’t easily seen from the door’s window. “Sup.” Nora asked Wynne, feet lifting to share the bed with her. “Hospitals suck.” Then, as if she’d forgotten - because she had - Nora reached into her pocket and pulled out some carefully wrapped cookies. “Stole these for you.” She tossed them to Wynne, hoping they’d catch. 

—

All of this was dizzying. The people that kept coming. The texts. The concern. The fact that none of them chastised them for being upset, for feeling afraid, for being in pain. The care. Wynne felt so wholly undeserving of it, this feeling of victimhood and their near-willingness to succumb to it and yet, here they were. A martyr with wounds on formerly bound wrists, pale and dehydrated, with puncture marks on their neck. When Nora appeared, they wanted to sink into the bed and its pillows, not even wanting to know what she saw when she looked at them.

But Nora just acted like herself. Put her boots on the bed, which made Wynne a little nervous. Wouldn’t the nurses get mad, if there was dirt on the sheets? “Hi.” Their voice was still not what it used to be, not just the dehydration and former screams impacting it but all the suppressed tears somehow straining it too. “I think I agree with you. It’s my first time but it’s not very fun.” They wanted home. They tried not to think of it, lest they start crying again. They moved to catch the cookies, but failed. Wynne grabbed them from where they’d plopped onto the sheets. “Thank you. And for coming.” Were they friends, then? Maybe. It seemed so. “You know what else sucks?” This was an attempt at a joke.

—

Wynne’s voice was different, raspier, harsher without intent. The voice of someone who went through something. Yeah. Going through things sure put people in the hospital. “What I hate most about hospitals is they want to know who you are. Can’t stand that. What do they need my name for?” It was the truth, but Nora was attempting a more comical ice breaker then she’d normally use. It wouldn’t be fair to try and scare Wynne for an ice breaker when Wynne was plugged into machines and unable to punch her. “I could get you a ballon though. If you think that’s fun.” A peace offering. A way of saying, I’m here to make sure you’re okay, not because the lamb is weak so the lion will slaughter.

“The vampire?” Nora tapped a spot on her neck, the place where a bandage wrapped carefully around Wynne’s neck. “Good one. Don’t tell that to Mimi, I think he’ll start crying.” Their mutual connection, the bond that held their steady alliance, was always a mess, but this was effecting him more in a silent brooding way he wouldn’t talking about. Noticeable because of time spent together. “You got a lot of friends.” Nora was looking around at the flowers that adorned the room, cards clipped to their vases. “I get it. You’re brave. I knew that from the moment you punched me.” Nora’s lips tugged into a micro smile, the only break in her normally emotionless features. “I think that’s cool. No one was brave enough to punch me before.” Nora stretched her arms, fingers tapping against the arms of her chair. “More people should be like you.” That was probably enough being nice. Right? Not that Nora thought being nice was a chore or anything. She just didn’t know hospital etiquette. 

—

“I don’t like … the lights. And the smell. The food. And the fact that I can’t just lie in a bed in another room. I don’t mind them knowing my name that much.” But their name carried no weight in this world, and it wasn’t like Protherians monitored hospitals. At least, Wynne assumed they didn’t. They smiled a little. “A balloon would be fun.” What a strange thing, that Nora offered to get them a balloon (presumably through theft) rather than offer them something else. But Wynne thought they could get used to it, this different routine.

They nodded. “The vampire. He sucked a lot.” Wynne didn’t want to think about Zane. Zane who almost cried before his eyes had turned red and his teeth sharp. Zane who had ripped open their neck with those teeth. Who had apologized afterwards. He had sucked, in the literal sense. But whether they disliked him for what had happened, they didn’t know. Wynne had never been very good at hating those who harmed them. “He would. I don’t know why he feels so guilty. He saved us, he and Metzli both.” It was so hard to understand him. He’d done what he’d said he’d do: he had protected them. He’d done what their parents had not been able to, had caught them when they’d fallen and showed up at the hospital as they slept. “Oh. I mean,” they murmured, shrugging. Did they have a lot of friends? It was quite overwhelming how many people had reached out and come over. “I don't know. I'm a bit of a coward most of the time. When I punched you I wanted to not be one for once.”

—

Wynne started a list about what the hospital contained that they didn't like and once they got started it spiraled into something longer. All of which seemed so inconsequential, but stacked on top of each other really made for a discomforting time. "Yeah, you should be able to lay in whatever bed you want." Nora agreed. "If you want I can help you. We can go to a different room right now. Then when they ask us why you're in the wrong room, we can tell them you were always in that room. It's called gaslighting. It's a manipulation tactic that is sometimes used for pranks. This would be a prank." Nora picked at the cuffs of her jacket sleeve as she talked, her hands never did good idle. Sitting still and talking, that was a lot. The urge to pull out her phone and scroll through mindless media as they talked was strong, but Nora persisted. 

"Metzli?" A blink as Nora tried to parse the information presented to her. Emilio knew Metzli. Metzli the vampire. But Emilio and Metzli had saved everyone, from vampires. Nora's feet landed on the floor with a loud thud, as her body moved forward. Closer to Wynne as if she was leaning in to tell a secret. But really she was invested. There was a larger part of the story here. Something she wanted to understand that was just out of reach. "Metzli wasn't the vampire that bit you, right? Because Metzli ran away. They said that it wasn't safe for them to be around, that they were going to hurt everyone one day. Then they left." It had been a sore subject. Cass had cried for days, and Nora had one her best to comfort her friend but it never seemed like enough. 

"Isn't that what they say bravery is?" Nora added, lightly, waving off the comment that Wynne was a bit of a coward. "Standing up in the face of fear?" Nora could never be brave, because Nora could never be scared. But Nora could respect Wynne for their bravery. 

—

Their face turned a little, as if they were confused by this suggestion. Break the rules? Made by people more knowledgeable and authoritative than them? Lie to them after doing so? Wynne opened their mouth and closed it again, trying to figure out an answer. “I mean, I don’t even know how to … what to do with this thing, if we were gonna do that,” they said, lifting their hand which was still connected to the IV drip. “But if we were, I’d like to go where my roommates are, of course. It is so quiet here. I don’t know why they think that is good for me!” The private room was to stop others from asking upsetting questions or looking at them funny, they had said — but Arden and Zack wouldn’t do either of those things. 

They shook their head furiously, “No, no, it wasn’t Metzli. Metzli saved us. Metzli —” They became very silent, their throat seeming to dry out in a way that wouldn't allow words to exit. There didn’t seem to be a tactful way to mention that Metzli had ripped off vampire’s heads with brute strength. Wynne frowned at the revelation of what the other had done. “What? But they —” They sat up. “Them and Emilio, they make no sense. They saved us, all of us, and they feel like monsters? The monsters were those vampires, that woman – the people that took us!” Their voice was breaking, frustration seeping in. All Wynne had wanted was someone to save them back at home, and now the people who had done so seemed riddled with guilt and now they felt riddled with guilt. Maybe no one should save you. “They didn’t hurt me. Or Zack, or Arden. They saved us.” 

They shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s the first time I did it. Maybe the only time. I tend to just run away.” Wynne frowned, wondering if that would bring up questions they didn’t really feel like answering. “I’m afraid all the time. And I didn’t stand up to anyone there, in that cellar. I just let them —” This was too honest, wasn’t it? They hardly knew Nora. But Nora had called them brave, and something unlocked. “I would have just let them kill me.”

—

Nora eyed the IV. “We can move it with us. Or we can rip it out.” Nora eyed the needles. “That would probably hurt.” Wynne went on to talk about their roommates, and there was a tenderness in their voice, a kindness and a love that Nora could recognize now that she had the same emotion for people in her life. A warmth filled her. It was dumb. It was dumb to care that other people cared about things, and felt happiness. When had she turned into a person that cared about that? Had it been when people started caring about her? Not caring for the person she was supposed to be, but the person she wanted to be? “We can do that. We’ll take you to your roommates.” 

Another person for Metzli to disappoint. Emotion spread across Wynne as they sat up straight. “It wasn’t Metzli.” Nora repeated an agreement. Because Nora trusted Metzli, and trusted they wouldn’t hurt people they cared about, and trusted that this self isolation they had put themselves in was the most stupid reaction they could make to their problem. “Metzli saved my life before too.” So had Emilio, in a different way. In the way that someone saves another from themselves. “I-” Nora opened her mouth, closed her mouth and chewed on the words. She had to be sure these were the correct words to say, they had to matter. Because words mattered, even if they were hard and laborious things. “I think they are scared that whatever they did might one day be something they do to you, me, people they care for. Zack and Arden?” Nora assumed those were their roommates. 

The word monster had been thrown around, carelessly and with vitriol. The monsters had been the vampires. The monsters had hurt them. When Wynne looked at Nora, sitting on the seat next to the hospital bed, did they see them for the monster they truly were? Did Metzli stop being a monster because they did something good? Did being a monster make someone inherently bad? “Metzli can be a monster, and Metzli can be good, and Metzli can think that being a monster will make them bad.” The words were slow and hesitant and they stumbled their way out of her mouth, but the word monster was vast and complicated. The word monster meant something and it needed more than those who had hurt Wynne and their roommates. “They don’t want to be a bad monster, so they are scared.” Because fear was the only emotion that Nora knew with the certainty that she knew she was a monster. It was the only emotion she knew how to invoke in conversation to explain away a problem. It was the only explanation she had for Metzli’s reaction. “But it isn’t right.” 

Then Wynne was admitting it was their first time having a brave reaction. The signature micro-smile, the one that tugged at the corner of her lips and expressed happiness, pricked at her cheeks. The expression she had learned and embraced so recently. “It’s a good start. I’m a good start.” Because Nora was fear, and if Wynne could face fear, Wynne could face anything. Honestly? She was honored. “It's okay to be afraid. Everyone is afraid. I can smell it.” Every day Nora passed people pretending not to be afraid of something, and every day she could delight in their fear, even as nothing was happening. But when Wynne admitted they would have let them kill them, Nora tilted her head to the side. “Why?” It was an honest question, it held no judgment. Nora just wanted to understand. “If you would have let them kill you, what were you afraid of?”

—

They nodded. It would probably hurt. Besides, Wynne was terrified of upsetting the staff that was taking such good care of them, who carried themselves with knowledge and authority. They knew by now that the measures they’d taken to ensure obedience at home were not taken in these corners of the outside world, but they still worried about them. “Let’s just … keep it where it is. Maybe. If you want to do some crime, you can steal me jello?” Maybe that was how Nora showed affection. Was that was this was? Friendship? They thought it might be, and they were glad for it, glad for the attitude Nora brought. Something steady, something powerful. 

Their jaw set as they tried to think to Metzli on that night, their entire body growing featherlight as the vampire had tore off heads and whatnot. Would Metzli do what Zane had done? What the vampires had done when they’d been captured? How did Metzli feed themself? “But they wouldn’t. If that’s not something they want to do to their loved ones, they wouldn’t.” They doubted themself as they said, remembering how different Metzli had looked. Admittedly, Wynne didn’t know them that well, so their impression of the vampire was rather shallow and limited. Maybe there was good reason for Metzli to be afraid of themself. Wynne knew part of them was very afraid of them. “My roommates. The ones I was with.”

They fiddled with the sheets as Nora spoke, trying to sense what it was she was getting at. Wynne hadn’t thought when they had taken the word monster into their mouth, but it seemed that the other had thought plenty on the term. It made sense, considering she could conjure monstrous things and also was a bear. “I never thought about it like that. That a monster isn’t inherently bad you mean, right? That it’s … just that. No judgment.” They looked at her, lips twisted and pushed to the side in insecure thought. If that was what Nora meant, it did align with what they thought, didn’t it? Wynne thought everyone was capable of good and bad, both human and not. What they were wasn’t the deciding factor. “In there they were a good monster.” 

They tried to calm, to stop overthinking everything and to stop feeling guilty. Wynne leaned back against the pillows, their breathing hurting their neck. They looked at Nora with interest. “What does it smell like?” And then came the question — honest and perhaps even fair, but so hard-hitting all the same. Their gaze redirected, shoulders lifting. “I don’t know. I felt maybe it was a long time coming.” Lips disappeared in the flesh of their lip, eyes tilting up and they wondered how to explain what that meant. How much of the veil did they want to lift. They eventually looked back at Nora they let out a breath of air. “I was supposed to die last November. I didn’t. And then when that vampire was drinking my blood I thought maybe it was enough, you know? The time I bought myself.” They inhaled sharply. “I mean. I know now it wasn’t. I don’t want to die. But … yeah.”

—

“Jello?” Nora was almost taken aback. Because she was basically a crime lord, right? She spent a lot of time stealing and breaking into places, but the only crime Wynne wanted her to commit was stealing Jello? “Okay, what color?” She wasn’t sure if Jello had flavors, or if people pretended to because of their colors. Nora settled back into her chair, boots back up on the bed, eyes fixed on Wynne with full respectful attention. No action right now. Relax. A hand wandered into her pocket, absently petting the snake she found in there.

It felt like Nora was having a repeat of this conversation with everyone lately. Words to describe Metzli’s actions, but how could she explain it when she didn’t understand it? “Metzli saved my life.” Nora commented. “I used to think that no one else was like me. Like, it was humans versus me, you know? But then I moved here, and people started telling me things and I thought they were lying. People lie a lot.” Nora was a child of the internet, morphed and raised by its treacherous forums. It was where the knowledge that everyone was a liar cemented itself so deeply in her brain, just as she became a liar as well. “But a hunter found me, and they ripped off his head. It was me or them.” The blood was warm. It spilled everywhere. The head rolled away. The knife’s hilt was pressed into her hand and Debbie’s dead eyes were staring at her as blood dripped down. It always linked back. It was all connected. Death had caught her scent and it followed her. Maybe she could understand Metzli’s point of view.

“I think they don’t want to be that person. I don’t know. They don’t want to be a murderer. You know? They want to…” Nora shrugged, dropping her feet down. “I don’t know Wynne. I told them it was dumb. Many people did.” Nora sighed. “If they were bad Emilio would have killed them already, so they should accept they were good.” Because Emilio was always right about those things, no matter how hard Nora pretended he wasn’t.

Nora cracked her neck, thinking carefully how to answer. “Your fear smells like you. Everyone’s fear smells like them, but there is something extra in there, I guess that is the fear. It’s different for everyone. Yours?” Nora took a deep breath, imagining the moment when she last got a taste of Wynne’s fear. “Yours smells like sulfur. But it doesn’t… it doesn’t really taste? You know? Like, it's delicious, but it's not like eating candy or ham. It just...” These words were struggling to come out, how did people describe things? “It just is.” Nora let that drop there. She wasn’t sure there was more she could say about it.

It was a good place to drop, because Wynne confided that they should have died last November. Nora leaned forward, drawn in by that information. "Why?" The first question. Set the story, give the scene. Let her understand. “You didn’t fight to live, because you’re already supposed to be dead.” Nora rephrased the sentence, repeating to make sure she understood. “But you’re not dead.” Nora tilted her head. “I don’t think I understand. Can you explain?”

—

Maybe it was stupid, to request something as seemingly meaningless as jello. But their stomach felt like an empty pit that shouldn’t be filled these days, and the one thing they liked about their meals was the sugary-shivering stuff. “Yes. I like the green one best.” They gave a little smile to Nora, as if that would fully underline and justify their request. Wynne wasn’t sure if the other would actually do it, but it mattered little. She said okay, and acted like herself with those boots on their sheets and they thought that this was just how friendship could be.

They quietly listened to Nora speaking, reiterating the now well-known fact that people lied. Wynne thought of the people at home, of Padrig, Alys and Siors, of their parents — how many of them had lied to them? How much of it had been nonsense, and how much of it was real? It was a lonely realization, to find out that people lied as easily as breathing. It was lonely too, they imagined, to feel like you were the only one out there like you. “I know they do. I’m –” They swallowed. “Sorry. That must have been lonely. I’m glad Metzli saved you. And that you have maybe found more proof that you are not alone in what you are? Have you met someone else like you?” Wynne had. Sitting across Teddy, sharing their pasts … it had made such a difference. It was sad, that there was someone out there like them, but it was also a comfort.

Lips pursed into a scrunched up crinkle as Wynne tried to grasp the situation. “I guess shame can make us do things that don’t make a lot of sense sometimes. It’s not always … rational. Guilt.” They felt guilty for leaving the commune every day, even if plenty of people had by now pointed out that they had been right to, or brave to. “That’s true. Emilio — he didn’t do anything to them. Maybe I will talk to them.”

They resisted commenting on the fact that dogs also smelled fear. It seemed maybe a little bit rude to compare Nora to an animal, even if Wynne had seen her turn into an actual bear. “That makes sense. That it is different for everyone.” Sulfur, Nora said, which they supposed made sense. It was the scent that had rolled over the commune during certain rituals, when the demon had made some kind of appearance. “Oh. Okay. But it like … feeds you still? You need it like we need, I don’t know, broccoli and stuff?”

It wasn’t strange that Nora didn’t understand, given the way Wynne had skirted around the topic of their impending death. They hadn’t found a right way to mention it, and wondered if there maybe even was one. “Um,” they said, wanting to backtrack but also not being sure how to go about that. “I –” They let their gaze flick up, the way Nora looked at them intense and demanding, even if she didn’t mean for it. The words eventually came, but somewhat like an avalanche: “I was meant to die in a sacrifice ritual for a demon, because that’s what my people do every – every so often, and I was the one destined for it.” Destined, what an ugly word, but it’s what they had always called it. That, or purpose. Like it was good. It was supposed to have been good — but what good was dying? “I ran away, because I didn’t want to die, but I was supposed to, I knew … for most of my life I knew I was gonna die that day, but I didn’t, and so when that vampire bit me —” Zane, they thought, the name swallowed on purpose. “I thought, maybe, that was just fate catching up with me.”

—

Green jello. Nora would get that as soon as they were done talking here. If it was what Wynne wanted, it was what Wynne would get. Besides, how often had she eaten Wynne’s food. Without even realizing it. It was the least she could do. Her jacket had a lot of pockets. She’d be able to steal a lot before anyone noticed.

“No, I haven’t.” Nora bit her lip, her tongue rotating the ring in her lip over and over again a few times before she spoke. “This wasn’t. – I mean, you don’t need to comfort me or ask about me or whatever,” Nora was not doing a good job. “I just mean to say, todays about you and Metzli or whatever. I just wanted to tell you that like I get it?” Between each pause of the word came another flick of the ring in her mouth. The piercing had been a declaration of her independence but recently it turned into a fidget toy. “So, you don’t feel alone, or whatever. And like because it doesn’t make sense that Metzli would take it so badly after saving you, when they’ve done things like that before. You know?”

“Good luck. If you talk to them. Maybe they’ll listen to you because you were there.” Nora sighed a bit. It was all very confusing and complicated. Saving people had been a good thing, but feeling guilty over hurting someone who had hurt you? Nora could understand that. She understood it every night Debbie’s face swam in her mind’s eye. It was fucked. All of it.

“Yeah, it’s like having an empty stomach, but it’s not my real stomach. It’s like my fear stomach. Then I smell fear and its full. But I don’t physically consume anything? At least, not that I see. I just.” Nora made a whiffing motion, but she realized she was making it about herself again, and she was supposed to be here for Wynne. “But I don’t think anyone needs broccoli. Food, sure. Just not broccoli.” Ham for sure.

Nora listened with patience as Wynne searched for the words they needed to tell this story. This personal story that they were trusting her with. Because they were friends now. Surely, this was friendship. Nora waited until the end and until she was sure Wynne didn’t have more to say. “That’s dumb.” Which wasn’t helpful or comforting. But it was true. It was dumb that their family had raised them to be a sacrifice. “Destiny is fucked. No one has the right to tell you what to do or who to be. It’s fucked that they expected that of you. If they want a sacrifice, then they should have sacrificed themselves.” Nora crossed her arms as she considered it deeper. “You ran away so you could choose a life you wanted, right?” Because Nora had done the same thing. Because Nora could understand that. “You lived and you get your better life. You get to fight to not die at the hands of a vampire.” Nora mined a staking motion. “Fate only works if you follow expectations. We ran away, we get to change fate. You get to fight for a death you can be happy with.” Nora yawned. “Or something like that. I’m not going to die, so I can’t help with that.” 

—

Nora seemed to reject their pity and Wynne wasn’t sure how to feel about it. They flocked to concern, it seemed, taking any of it they could get and holding it close to their chest. They didn’t want people to feel sorry for them, but they wanted someone to be sorry, some kind of apology. They had cried when Emilio had apologized after they’d told their story. They were glad when the nurses fussed over them. As if they were something worth not only caring for, but keeping alive as well.

But Nora rejected it. “It’s alright. I mean, you can talk about it if you want. It’s good to talk about things. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” They smiled a little, though it was half-hearted. They felt infinitely tired. “I do feel less alone. I’m glad you’re here. And telling me these stories.” It was hard to think about, this idea that just because Metzli had done this before – this meaning beheading people who posed a risk – they shouldn’t react this way. Murder was bad, wasn’t it? But what if you killed murderers? Wynne felt another wave of fatigue, a want to just close their eyes and not interact with this wretched world any more.

It seemed like it was so much pain. Maybe it was better to sometimes lay a person on an altar and watch them die than this, all this unexpected death and suffering. “Maybe. I don’t know. Depends on when I can get out of here too. And how I feel.” Because part of Wynne was afraid of seeing the vampire again, their mind still a trap of memories of that barn, of those red-glowing eyes, of the feeling of teeth in their throat.

They frowned a little at Nora, curious and a little concerned. “Do you smell me now?” Because Wynne was pretty sure they were afraid all the time. Nora must have had a couple of feasts from just being around them, they figured. “I like broccoli. It’s very versatile and tasty. But to each their own.”

That’s dumb. They blinked at the other, at this expression of disrespect that would have never stood at home. Wynne found themself speechless for a moment, letting the other speak and talk with proper insight, but the sentiment of it being dumb just kept echoing. She didn’t say she was sorry, or that it had been wrong, or looked at them with that look that Zack, Arden and even Emilio had had. That’s dumb. And maybe it was. Maybe all of it had been. “I thought it was this great honor. But I also always just kept being mad, I guess, that everyone was so okay with it. With me dying for them.” Nora’s words rang true, though. They were exactly what Wynne wanted to hear, wanted to believe. “That’s right. I ran because I wanted to live. However I wanted. And I don’t want to die. Not like that, not just yet — right? I want to be old, one day. And I want to be better at fighting, even if I didn’t like it when that vampire …” They shivered. Wynne raised their eyebrows. “Are you immortal?” Maybe all bearshifters were.

—

“I’m not who I was when I came to this town. I’ve seen people die. I’ve seen death.” I’ve killed. The words remained unspoken, because of the bind that kept her silence, but in that moment Nora would have confessed her murder to the person in front of her. Once an enemy. Now a friend. Surely after this, their shared confessional, they could at least be friends. “But what I like most about who I am now, is that I get to choose. I don’t tell a lot of people this, but I think it’ll resonate with you.” Nora swallowed, the lump in her throat burning at the words that she had kept to herself this entire time. Words that she hadn’t told anyone. They had either known without her input, or they didn’t. “It’s not the same. You had it worse, but I get it. In a different way. I was Eleanor once. Eleanor Pine, the model.” Considering Nora now knew Wynne grew up in a cult as a sacrifice, she figured it would mean nothing to Wynne. Nora pulled out her phone, opening up to a missing article about herself. She tossed the phone over to Wynne. 

“I hated it. I hated being in the public eye. I was raised by humans who wanted me to be human, but I’m not. They didn’t know better, but I still didn’t get a choice. It was be a model or.” Nora shrugged. It was dumb to say, be a model or don’t be loved by your fathers. Not at all as dire as be a sacrifice for your cult or run away, but it was hers. Nora cracked her neck. “I wasn’t happy, but they thought I should be and that was enough. They never asked what I wanted. So I turned eighteen, and I ran away.” Nora lifted her arms, as if to say look at me now. “Happier than ever. Because I get to choose. Despite it all. Despite everything that’s happened since I’ve been here. I wouldn’t trade it for shit. Because I’m the master of my own choices here. I live in a crypt. I work for Emilio. I have friends who like me for me. Not because I could get them internet fame. I think that’s happiness, you know? And I think that’s why it's cool you ran. And I think that’s why you should never forget that. Even when a vampire is biting you. Because you chose to live. You can choose to keep fighting for that.” 

Each interaction with Wynne gave something new for Nora to think about. A new positive trait to assign under their name. Resilient was today’s. Nora let out a bark of laughter, uncharacteristic for her, but so was the oversharing. “No. I’m not immortal. I mean, I’ll die one day. Just not now. Not now I finally get to live. I’ll die when I’m old, and I’ll die having lived the life I wanted.” Nora paused, before amending. “We will die having lived the life we wanted.” 

That was a lot of talking. A lot of sharing. Nora felt uncomfortable for a moment, twitching in her seat. Quickly she got to her feet. “Hang on.” Nora stomped out of the room. It took five minutes, but she was back with a bottle of water and a pocket full of green jell-o. “Thirsty.” Nora explained, holding up the water bottle. She threw herself back down on the seat, with the uncaring ease of a cat who did whatever it wanted. “Catch.” It was the only warning Nora gave as she once more started tossing things at Wynne. This time it was thirteen green jell-os she’d stolen from trays getting ready to be served to other patients. Wynne didn’t need to know that last fact. It would devastate them. They were kind like that. 

“What are you going to do next time someone tries to kill you?”

—

Wynne looked at Nora with a greater understanding than before, one that continued to grow with every word she said. Who could have known, that there were such similarities between the pair of them? The bear and barista, the scary and the scared. And yet here they said, not just bonded by their shared care for Emilio Cortez, but bonded by similar pasts too. It was strange, because Nora’s life sounded entirely and wholly different from their own, but still there was something like recognition. Wicked’s Rest had changed them, had shown them things they’d never seen. But their parents had changed them too, had put them into molds and though they had tried to grow into them to fit those visions, they’d abandoned it.

They understood that now, that they scrolled through the phone. Wynne looked up and down a few times, to try and compare the Eleanor Pine they saw on the screen and the Nora the Bear they saw in front of them. Somehow, through the story the other told, they grew to understand not only her, but themself too. “That’s not right, still. That they wanted you to be something that you didn’t want to be. That they didn’t want you to be happy like that.” They had both been wronged by their parents, hadn’t they? And wasn’t Wynne, in some crude way, happier than ever? Even if they lied here now, weak and ripped open? They had friends, people who wanted them alive — people who thought them worth saving. They were afraid, but no longer of dying: they were afraid of living, which was also just an exhilaration. “I’m glad you ran away. Not that you had to, but that you did. And that I did too. Even if this town has shown us some ugly things. It’s also given us good things, right? Choice, and friends.” They handed back the phone. “I like you better the way you look now. Even if I sometimes wonder if those piercings hurt to get.” They smiled a little. 

“Oh! Ah. Yes that makes more sense. I mean, there are also immortal people.” Like vampires, clearly. “But you were born the way you are, right?” That prospect that Nora offered made Wynne beam a little, nodding their head seriously. “Exactly. On our own terms, or at least a little. I’m glad … you’re saying these things. Sometimes I feel guilty for wanting this much out of life. But I don’t always think it’s selfish any more.”

And suddenly Nora was gone, leaving Wynne in that big, yet small hospital bed and contemplating all the wisdom they’d gained. Nora, though blunt, had given them much to think about, allowing them to look at their life through an outsider’s perspective. They didn’t mind the moment of solitude, but when Nora reappeared they were glad — because for a while they were worried she’d just left. They managed to catch the first jell-o, much to their surprise, but the others just fell against their body, their hands not quick enough. “Wow. That’s — so much. Thank you.” They chuckled a little, amused by their treasure.

They didn’t look as amused as they answered Nora’s question, though, but rather determined and serious: “I’m going to fight to stay alive.”

[crescentblossom66]

Bond of the Beasts Chapter 5

“Would you stop that?!” Bow Kid gaze upon the drawing that she had spent a total of 15 minutes on which was now soaked and a blur of colors, mostly orange from the orange juice that was spilled from her glass onto it by her sister, who tried to make the glass levitate with her magic. She picked the dripping paper up and showed it to Hat Kid. “You ruined my picture!”

Hat Kid cringed a little and muttered and embarrassed sounding “Sorry” before she tried to cast her spell again. She looked into the old book Snatcher had given to her again, once again trying her best to read the instructions. “M-May-ck ve int-anded objackt fl-o-a-t by ima-gen-ing it fl-o-a-t-ing” She really had trouble reading the sentence 'Make the intended object float by imagining it floating', but Hattie was determined to at least learn something that sounded quite easy in theory. The little picture next to the instruction even showed a young wizard just raising his hands and a little vase started to fly into the air. It couldn't be that difficult. She felt like she would let Snatcher down after the vampire had spent the whole evening trying to teach her how to read simple words.

Bow Kid exited the room and came back with a wet rag to clean the juice of her desk, shaking her head a little at Hattie as this was the second time she had to clean up something, the first was her pencil case that had fallen and spilled her color pencils everywhere on the ground after another unsuccessful attempt of her sister. “Maybe you should try making something light float, like a feather or a handkerchief.” Bow suggested and Hattie nodded a bit dejectedly before walking to the living room to get a handkerchief.

In the living room she found the only resident of the household that she had yet to meet. The blonde-haired man in a black suit was sitting on the sofa, seemingly staring endlessly out the window, he was incredibly lost in his own thoughts which became evident when he nearly dropped his coffee mug as Hattie so much as greeted him. “Hello, I don't think we've met yet. My name is Hattie.” The young girl gave a small smile toward the old man whose gaze shifted to her. It took him a moment to return back to reality, but he gave a small nod before speaking.

“Glad to see yer doin' better, lass.” Hattie figured that he was likely the 'angry man' that Bow was worried about, right now though, he looked a lot more sad than angry. “The name's Conductor...that's what everyone calls me anyway. Ye know, the weird fake soundin' names in this home.” He took a sip of coffee. Hattie had been wondering that, and even Bow had told her that she found it strange that no one in this household seemed to have a normal name 'Cookie', 'Snatcher', 'DJ Grooves', and now 'Conductor'...

The young girl took a seat opposite of him on the arm chair. “I was wondering, why do you all have such strange names? Bow and I have ours because the people that held us in captivity called us Hat Kid because I always liked to wear hats and they called Bow Bow Kid because she liked to wear ribbons in her hair as a kid.”

The man chuckled as the girl said 'when she was still a kid' she was still a child now, older than his grandkids had been for sure, but a kid nonetheless.

Hat Kid noticed that the face of the man turned more sad for a mere moment before it returned back to a rather neutral expression. “Well, fer me and Cookie it's like a nickname, workin' as the only train conductor 'round these parts makes you kinda known as such, as fer Cookie, bein' a great chef earned her the nickname. That sarcastic bloodsucker never told us his real name, just went by Snatcher, while our eccentric clown has DJ Grooves as a stage name in his club, and it simply stuck. This whole thing's got somethin' ta do with our wee hunter problem too.”

“So...they're simply nicknames and aliases. Is it dangerous if people found your real names?” The man nodded yet again and picked out a cigar from his pocket. The moment he lit the old lighter that he pulled out of his pocket, a female voice from the kitchen started to yell in a rather harsh tone.

“No smoking in the house, Conductor, you know that!” Hat Kid cringed while the eyes of the man widened for a moment and he made the fire go back out again, wondering how Cookie heard him switch the lighter on all the way in the kitchen...over the sound of the coffee machine preparing a fresh pot of coffee no less.

With a sigh, he put the lighter back into his pocket together with the cigar. “Yer got that right, lassie, if those hunters knew our real names, we might get inta even more trouble. Ye probably noticed that we're quite far out, a few miles away from the next town-” He looked out the window again. “-it's ta stay safe, more people 'round us means more people who could figure out what we are, and draw the attention of the hunters to us.” Hattie wondered for a moment what kind of creature he was. She knew that Cookie was a witch, that Snatcher was a vampire, she had found out that the DJ was a basilisk, after noticing that his shades were closed off from all sides, more like a visor than shades, really, so she assumed that it was so that no one would accidentally look into his eyes and he would still be able to see. The young sorceress was about to ask the man when she noticed that he had two long feathers on either side of his head that were normally hidden under his cap, but she got a small glance when he adjusted his hat and rose from the couch. It made it clear to her that he was likely a werebeast, most of them had showed physical attributes of the species that they'd transform into during a full moon, she had seen a couple of them in the laboratories.

“A'ight, wee lassie, I'm gonna head off ta work, behave now, ye hear.” He picked up his keys and went to the kitchen to get another cup of coffee for the road. “I'm off, be back as usual.” He gave a brief smile to Cookie who was preparing the breakfast for the kids before she'd take them to their first day of school.

Hattie, now alone in the living room, grabbed one of the tissues from a box that was placed on the table and spread it out on the couch, the young girl stared at the soft paper focusing on making it float. For a moment she thought she had done it when it moved slightly...but then noticed that the window was still open and a small gust of wind had pushed it away. After closing the window, she sat back down with a huff and tried making the small and light object float for a second time. “Is there a reason you keep starin' at the tissue, sweetie. Your eyes are getting all dry if you keep that up.” The witch only got a defeated sounding huff as a response before the girl turned to her.

“I'm trying to get better at controlling my magic, Snatcher gave me a book to learn the spells, and is teaching me how to read, but....I can't do it. Not even the paper will float.” Poor Hattie sounded disheartened, and was trying to avoid looking at Cookie who started to approach her.

“Hey, no master has fallen from the sky yet. I had trouble when I was starting out too, you know.-” The red-haired woman sat down next to Hat Kid, who looked at her as if she couldn't believe a word the experienced witch said.

“That can't be, you created this whole house!-” She gestured around herself, “-Bow Kid told me. And you were the one that helped me feel better after I used to much of my magic at once.” Hat Kid sighed in frustration. The woman only gave a small laugh in response.

“Do you want to know what happened when I first tried to use my magic? Nothing, sweetie, absolutely nothing.” My mentor told me to focus on pushing a small rock forward without touching it, and no matter how hard I tried, nothing happened.-” The girl listened to her little anecdote with patience.

“But you managed to do it, right?”

Cookie nodded. “-Eventually yes, but it took me weeks of trying over and over again. Don't give up if it doesn't work out the first few times, you just have to keep on tryin'.” The small smile the witch gave her and the encouraging words made Hattie want to try again. The young sorceress focused as hard as she could yet again, and...still nothing, the tissue refused to move. “Keep trying, sweetie, I know you can do it!” Cookie left Hattie to practice and called Bow, telling her that breakfast will be done in a five minutes, and that she should come down.

With a slight frown of disappointment still on her features, Hattie entered the kitchen and opened the fridge to get a juice box that was recently bought, as they hadn't been in the fridge yesterday morning. Bow Kid came back down the stairs at that moment, presenting the colorful drawing she had made. “Look, I made you something!” Bow Kid showed off a relatively decent drawing of her, Hattie, DJ Grooves and Cookie that depicted them on their recent shopping spree. Hat Kid didn't really pay much attention to it, still caught up in her own predicament, Cookie meanwhile applauded.

“Very nice, sugar. It looks amazing!” She got a magnet from a drawer and pinned the little doodle next to a few notes. One read 'Buy more bacon' signed with an S, and another read 'Whoever reads this is beautiful!' There was star drawn next to the statement. Bow Kid looked ecstatic once her drawing was on the fridge and sat down to eat her food which consisted of toast and omelets.<hr>

Neither Hattie nor Bow had ever seen such a colorful building before, they were used to interiors being bland, mostly gray or white and at best muted colors, this structure however was painted in a soft light blue and a pastel yellow. The two girls followed their new self-appointed guardian inside the house. Bow Kid's skin would have shown hues of purple and yellow simultaneously, but thanks to the potion, she didn't have to worry about her brown skin tone changing and causing others to figure out that she was a changeling. While Bow Kid looked uncertain and a bit scared, Hat Kid seemed to have little to no fear and only excitement. It only got amplified more as she noticed the playground outside. “Look, Bow, a playground! We should check it out later!”

“Remember, Hattie, no magic in school, okay, sweety? It's too dangerous.” The child in question only nodded and uttered a 'Yeah, sure.' in an unconvincing sounding and disinterested tone that made the witch worry and hope that Bow would keep her more adventurous sister in check.

Cookie brought the two kids over to their first ever day of school, instead of the first grade, where that would have been normal, the two girls would need to catch up to the others in fourth grade. A herculean task for sure, but it was the only way, but Cookie had faith. If they all worked together and helped the young girls, they'd be able to catch up. It wasn't their academic prowess that worried the witch though...it was the social aspect. Considering that they were sheltered and secluded from children their age might cause some problems, she feared, or now though, the red-haired woman hoped that they'd get accepted.

-

The first period they had was thankfully art, it made it easier for Bow to calm down after having had to introduce herself to the class, if it weren't for the potion, her tail would have popped up and her skin would have changed a deep purple again. They had to draw their rooms at home which was nice and calming, and drowned out the loud noises of the other kids that were loudly talking among each other. Hattie had started a conversation with the girl next to her who listened to her ramble on about her plushies.

The second period was quite interesting as the focus was common flowers of spring, a subject their peers seemed to not be too interested in, but to them, who only ever seen fake flowers or easy to maintain ones like cacti and orchids that were placed in their room to at least made it look a bit less dreary, the colors and different shapes were beautiful. They enjoyed looking at the tulips, crocus and hyacinths, Bow even started to doodle on the side of her notepad. Things took a bit of a nosedive at the third and forth periods...math class.

To an average child their age multiplication and division were a bit troublesome, but still more or less manageable, but to Hattie and Bow, who didn't even know addition and subtraction, those proved to be near impossible. Hattie tried hard to count the numbers on her fingers appeared to be decently effective... until the numbers exceeded ten. It was then that both of them realized that this wouldn't be a cake walk, and that they'd have to learn a lot to get to the level of knowledge the other kids already had. When the bell rang to indicate recess, both of them sighed in relief.

“Hattie, I don't think I can handle this, it's difficult.” Bow sighed as they headed to the playground that Hattie had spotted earlier.

“I get what you mean, this will be really tough...” Hattie's expression turned from worry about their gap in knowledge to excitement as she watched a boy slide down a slide, while a group of girls were playing jump-the-rope. “Look!” Hattie ran over to try out the slide, leaving Bow, who gravitated a bit more toward the sandbox and a sandcastle a young boy seemed to be making. She got one of the buckets that were still in the box and filled it up with sand before trying to empty it out on the ground, a bit of her castle broke off before she could even lift the bucket off fully and she pouted a bit.

“It works better with water, just pour a bit of water on the sand first.” The young boy with the short black hair gave Bow Kid a smile which she returned. Bow tried again, this time with the method that the boy had thought her, she was surprised at how well that worked.

“Thank you! It worked!” The boy watched her with curiosity when she got up and returned with decorations for her sandcastle. A few stones for windows and a few leaves and grass for the roof and the changeling was happy to show of her creation.

“Looks cool!” The boy with the red jacket applauded.

“What does?” Hattie walked over to them and took a look at the sandcastle Bow had made. “Nice, Bow, it looks good.-” the young sorceress looked around with sparkles in her eyes and a big, happy smile. “-This place is awesome!”

“You're...the new kids, from the parallel class, right? I don't think I've seen you here before.” The young boy asked and both nodded.

“Yep, this is Bow-”Hat Kid pointed at Bow and then herself. “-and I'm Hattie. Nice to meet you!”

“My name's Tim, but everyone always calls me Timmy. Wanna see a cool skateboard trick later?” He got up quickly and looked enthusiastic.

“What's a skateboard?” Bow asked. She had seen most of the toys on the playground, but the word 'skateboard' rang no bell. Hattie looked equally as confused, if her expression was anything to go by.

“You guys...don't know what a skateboard is? Did you live on mars or something?” Timmy gave them a bewildered look, raising an eye brow at them. The sisters exchanged looks, both silently asking the other for help in finding a plausible explanation.

“No...we...uh...we we lived abroad, yeah. We come from a Solana.” Bow gave Hattie a look as if to say 'Really?! That's what you go with? That sounds so fake!'. The boy, however, nodded.

“I think I've heard of that. Wait a sec, I'm gonna go and get my skateboard.” He rushed off, leaving the two girls to both breathe a sigh of relief.

“That was a close one, I can't believe he bought that.” Bow wiped the sweat from her brow.

Hattie looked around to make sure no one was around before she spoke quietly. “It was the only thing that came to mind. I can't really say that we're from a research facility!” Bow Kid shushed her as Timmy came back sprinting toward them with a board that had wheels on its underside.

“That's a skateboard. Cool, right? Watch me!” The young boy got onto the board and kicked the ground to gain speed before he tried to do a kick flip...which ended with him falling right on his face. “Ow...”

“Are you okay?!” Bow ran up to the boy and helped him back up, his hands were bruised and his knee got scraped open. None of this seemed to interest Hattie as her eyes were drawn to the blue marks on his face, at first she thought those were tattoos, but now that she looked more closely, they looked more like the mark she had on her hand, the mark of magic. Hattie wondered if she should ask Timmy about the marks on his cheeks. He had a small aura of magic around him, way weaker than Cookie's, but if he didn't know about his powers, it would explain that easily.

“Are you...a sorcerer?” Bow Kid flinched at the question, giving her sister a shocked expression. The boy gave Hattie a strange look as if she were insane.

“What?...”

[kwiiwi1]

(ok so I realized I haven't introduced my poly polynesian OC relationship so imma do it rn)

INTRODUCING.. VĀ-KĀ YIPPEE ✨️✨️✨️

Vā-Kā is this kinda NZ K-pop group / band I made way back in lockdown, which was 4 years ago, and have since then been thinking about sm (along with all my other 100+ OC's but shh I'll talk about em in another post maybe lolz)

I created them because I was really bored and sad, and it was like, "mm wonder if there's like an NZ K-Pop group... imma make my own for funsies 😈😈😈"

It was supposed to be like a one-off thing, but they turned into this v real thing I could pull off when I'm older and have more experience with art, like I'm literally crying inside because the edits I could animate?? the music?? the unofficial photoshoots?? them in general?? so many ideas are crammed in my head fr

Anywaysss onto like actually talking about them!

There's 8 members overall, 6 girls and 2 dudes, and they're all best friends turned band / K-pop group turned lovers (cause I'm a sucker for friends to lovers fr)

It's kinda like a K-Pop group but not really it's like.. looser. Idk

I will post proper art of them eventually, but I'm so worried about like repping em wrong since like 7 members are POC, and even tho I'm POC, I'm feeling like I'd do something wrong so yeah

But anyways, time for actual lore stuff hooray 🥳🥳🥳

(Lore under the cut lolz)

Members:

💜 Tori Tuigamala / Lunar 💜

Tori is the oldest of the group and is one of the main leaders (the group doesn't really have leaders, but they all follow her and Kora since they both have the most level heads about shit.). She's introverted and a bit motherly, except its kinda like she'll nip you around the ears if you don't listen to her fr.

It always feels like she's the one who knows what to do because of how organized she is. She seems to plan out everyones schedule without their permission, even if it comes from a good place.

However, she follows through with the promises she makes every time, and actively tries to own up to whatever wrongdoings either her or her group cause, while watching out for the groups safety because she cares and loves them all so much, even if she doesn't say it enough like she'd want to.

Silly facts:

Dyslexic so often she'll record her notes through voice messages or voice-to-text to make it easier. Otherwise, Kora will note the stuff down when they're in meetings n stuff

Loves mochas, ube roll, chocolate chip cookies, and straight black coffee

insomniac, probably

Smells like pomegranate

Samoan-French, has 2 dads and a younger sister, Toni, who's also in the band

25 years old, oldest member. Bday is 31st August, starsigns a Virgo

Her as a squishmallow would be Violet the Octopus

Bisexual and Demigirl, pronouns are she/her + they/them

Height is 5'9"

A friend said that her clothing style would be similar to Hoonjoong from Ateez, and from analysing, it'd be like.. baggy shirts tucked into high-waisted pants or mom jeans-eque pants, washed out colours, sweaters, and cardigans, generally very soft and casual yet trendy if you style it right yknow

Seungmin-core from the "Which SKZ member are you?" quiz, and Yoongi-core from the "Which BTS member are you?" quiz

Favourite colour is purple 💜💜💜💜💜

One of the main singers of the band/group, the other one is Harper

Music taste is like.. jazz. soul music. R&B. idfk fr 😭😭😭😭

Voice claim is AACACIA cause I've always felt like she'd have this kinda deep-ish soul voice that's a lil bit floaty and lilty (idk how to explain my brain properly fr) and like.. soon as I listened to AACACIA, she just fit

Probably had an emo phase. or a vampire phase. maybe both. we don't talk about it

Eats plain rice when she's stressed, bored, overwhelmed, or all three (like me 😍😍😍😍)

Link to voice claim: https://youtu.be/bAAExYOc3VY

💙 Diana Kim / Fluxx 💙

Diana's a smartie seems so very cold and somewhat distant to the public because of how harsh and blunt her remarks come off as.

Their fandom + her group know that she isn't at all like that and that she has trouble communicating her feelings properly. She loves to talk about space and / or the ocean (it changes each day), makes clothes for group sometimes, does photography, and is actually a very soft and caring person, she just doesn't know how to express it properly sometimes.

It takes her a bit of a while to tho, and when she does, she puts in a lot of time and effort. On the inside, she's very expressive and ambitious, always eager to learn something new, and is encouraging her group with how she sticks constantly to one goal until she makes it without Diana realizing her effect.

Silly facts:

Loves earl grey tea, caramel brittle and carrot cake.

Smells like peppermint

Blasian (African-American + South Korean), has 3 parents (two are her birth parents)

24 years old. Birthday is 16th December, starsign is Sagittarius

Her as a squishmallow would be Perry the Dolphin

Bisexual and Demisexual, pronouns are she/her

Height is 6'0"

Friend said that she'd dress like smart but fashionable. Has a similar style to Seungmin or Hyunjin from Stray Kids, so it's half comfy and fashionable n half smart and fashionable

Changbin-core from the "Which SKZ member are you?" quiz, also Yoongi-core from the "Which BTS member are you?" quiz

Favourite colour is blue 💙💙💙

Plays keyboard / synth for the group

I'm not sure what her music taste is either, but it feels like a mix of classical and jazz music + BTS

Voice claim for her is Bic Runga

Ocean and space hyperfixation, my dudes

Takes photos of her members lovers and sticks it up on her room walls

BTS stan, biases are SUGA / Yoongi and RM / Namjoon

Has an Avatar (blue people) OC lolz

Link to voice claim: https://youtu.be/WJXfwo68C4M

💚 Asher Kieu / virt2 💚

Asher is v v quiet and soft-spoken, barely speaks up in the interview's or stuff the group has. Even though Asher's quiet most of the time, she's very perceptive and can often pick up on what others don't, making her a real good listener.

Is secretly a good cook + baker and sometimes plays piano pieces for the group or the fandom when she has the time on her solo livestreams. (I say secretly cause none of Vā-Kā let her into the kitchen. There's like... a 75% chance she'll set the entire thing on fire. Maybe. Probably.)

She's a very emotional kinda person, can kinda come off as being a bit sensitive even if she doesn't mean to get hurt. The fandom + members compare her voice to like an angels because of how like soft and gentle it sounds. It helps some of their fans, n tbh Asher loves being able to inspire their fandom even if she doesn't involve herself as much as she would like to.

Silly facts:

Likes mint chocolate chip ice cream, lemonade and caramel apples

Smells like vanilla sugar cookies.

Dark skin Vietnamese (still need to figure out the deets), also has 3 parents and a younger brother

23 years old. Birthday is 25th February, starsign is Pisces

Her as a squishmallow would be Serene the Squirrel

Pansexual and Genderqueer, pronouns are she/her + he/him + they/them

Height is 5'5"

Friend said that asher would dress in stuff that's really comfortable, like it doesn't have to look crazy good it just has to be comfy for them to hide and not draw attention yknow

Hyunjin-core from the "Which SKZ member are you?" quiz, Jimin-core from the "Which BTS member are you?" quiz

Fav colour is green (more specifically, mint) 💚💚💚

Backup vocals for the group, n plays acoustic guitar + piano if needed

I have literally no clue for what she listens to 💀💀💀💀💀 maybe like lofi, but I'm not sure yet

Voice claim is Georgia Lines (found her on a NZ mix playlist on Spotify and she kinda stuck instantly)

Strong self-esteem issues (me too ✨️✨️✨️✨️). doesn't choose to be in the spotlight in case it's seen as them showing off

Loves baking. Secret hobby of hers. Has a lil secret room in her room where she bakes and vibes

Autistic probably (me pt 2)

🧡 Kora Faletau / sivk 🧡

Kora is a grouchy but lovable and stupid idiot, keeps the group in check when they're in public, and helps to lighten the mood with some self-deprecating jokes at his expense.

Very intelligent. Smartiepants. High IQ mother fucker. Really tall. And strong. uh. yuh

Is almost always done with the groups shenanigans (especially when Harper, Micah, Toni, and Alto are being lil asshats), but he deals with it because they're the only thing that keeps him sane.

Most honest person in the group tho, will not be afraid to call you out on your shit. You lie to him, he will wrestle ur ass off that high horse in a second (he inherited his mother's sass and attitude to a point ong)

Silly facts:

Likes pizza n pasta despite being lactose sensitive / intolerant. Dumb shithead

Smells like strawberries

Tongan-Latino, youngest of 4 siblings (3 older sisters) n a single mum

23 years old. birthday is 21st September, starsign is Virgo

Them as a squishmallow would be Gary the Giraffe

Demisexual Pansexual + Nonbinary, uses he/they pronouns

Height is 6'3", tallest member

Friend said that Kora would wear whatever he pulls out of the closet and somehow he'd still make it work, so they don't really have a set style and it's all over the place but it fits them

Bangchan and / or Changbin-core from the "Which SKZ member are you?" quiz, Namjoon-core from the "Which BTS member are you?" quiz

Fav colour is orange 🧡🧡🧡

Bassist, does keyboard/synth when Diana's not free + main rapper

Listens to rap n stuff, like Kendrick Lamar, J.Cole, Logic, and then siren jams because man's would not be complete with blasting some shitty siren jam early in the morning

Voice claim for him is Kings because he's kinda got like a deep kinda scratchy n smooth voice fr

V v Bangchan n Changbin-core like have you seen this dude work out. Mans used to play basketball too cause of his height, so he'd probably be real good at sports shit n like lean n built n muscular lolz

Hates physical contact when they're in interviews or other (hugs and kisses in front of people make him lose his confidence and gets him all embarrassed and shy), but loves it when the groups behind closed doors.

💛 Harper Mayfield / Sun-E 💛

Harper is an absolute ball of sunshine, jokes around and makes fun of her friends, very energetic, and hypes everyone up.

She's always on the move, whether it be from cleaning, cooking, to her favourite dancing, she's always found to be doing something in order to improve on herself.

Bros surprisingly wise and almost always manages to talk down confrontations, and her smile is known to brighten up both the group and their fandoms day. Whenever she makes someone happy, she's happy.

Silly facts:

Likes lemon drops, turkish delight, fry bread

Smells like coconut cream and ginger

Māori-Australian, is the youngest of 4 siblings (1 older sister and 2 older brothers) n a single mum

22 years old. Birthday is 5th June, starsign is Gemini

Her as a squishmallow would be Kayla the Koala

Pansexual + Genderfluid , uses any pronouns

Height is 5'11"

Friend said that Harper has like a simple style, like a shirt and jeans with the occasional jacket here and there, plus a lot of accessories. Either that or she'll wear really colourful n confident clothes that she pulls off really easily, so she v much has a style similar to J-Hope from BTS

Jisung-core from the "Which SKZ member are you?" quiz, Hobi-core from the "Which BTS member are you?" quiz

Favourite colour is yellow 💛💛💛

2nd Main Vocalist + Saxophonist for the group

Listens to anything she can dance to, so it'd be like a mix of Hip Hop n Rap. I have a playlist of songs I think she'd dance to for funsies lol

Voice claim is Kimbra, idk she fits fr fr

Down bad. Down horrendously. Easy to fluster and easy to please. Silly silly Harper

Makes a lot of kandi n stuff for the group as accessories for when they dress up n shit. Loves it sm

❤️ Micah Tyjani / DUSK ❤️

Micah is very laid back and chill, takes a whole lotta shit to piss her off. She sometimes helps out Kora with cooking or the younger members (Toni and Alto) with being stupid as shit, but she goes with the flow most of the time.

She's a night owl kinda person too lol. Most of the group go to her for a place to vent or cry because she's so laid-back and lax with it, and she welcomes it all, as she always makes sure to check up on her members.

She cares a lot, and she cares very deeply about all of them, just like they all care for her fr.

Silly facts:

Likes red velvet cake and mashed potatoes

Smells like gingerbread

Nigerian-Haitian, born to two dads (one of them was a seahorse dad)

23 years old, birthday is 13th July, starsign is Cancer

Them as a squishmallow would be Bailey the Llama

Unlabeled + Bigender, uses she/him pronouns

Height is 5'8"

Friend said that Michas style would be a mix of both Harper and Ashers, so like simple and comfortable clothes with a lot of accessories and bright colours lolz

Seungmin-core from the "Which SKZ member are you?" quiz, Namjoon-core from the "Which BTS member are you?" quiz

Favourite colour is red ❤❤❤

2nd Bassist of the group + 2nd rapper

Listens to Hip Hop n Rap n like other stuff. Still need to think fr

Voice claim is Ladi6

Works out with Kora. they're both so 🤤🤤🤤🤤 PLUS she can beat people up if they need to, so boom banger

🩷 Toni Tuigamala / Eris 🩷

Toni is the absolute opposite of her older sister. Where Tori is organized and figured out, Toni is brash and all over the place.

Although she fools around a lot and kinda comes off as a bit of a jerk, she can be quiet and caring when needed mhm mhm

Unafraid to speak her mind, and probably joins Kora in the "I shall beat u up with my words and my wit" category. Her wit is sharp, but her tongue is even sharper fr. Sassy lil shit.

Offers the best fashion advice and makes sure that everyone looks their best.

Silly facts:

Likes rice pudding and raspberry cheesecake

Smells like waffles and maple syrup

Samoan-French, two dads, and ofc her older sister Tori

22 years old, birthday is 17th April n starsign is Aries

Her as a squishmallow would be Reina the Butterfly

Omnisexual (with the teeniest lean towards women) + Pangender, uses she/they + he/him pronouns

Height is 5'7"

Friend said that Toni would have a similar style to Tori since she's her sister, but like sometimes when he's in the mood, he'd wear something chic. They said that there isn't really a specific theme, but that's how Toni is, she doesn't have a certain theme but if it works it works lolz

Lee-Know-core from the "Which SKZ member are you?" quiz, Tae-core from the "Which BTS member are you?" quiz

Favourite colour is magenta, but I use this soft pink heart for her lolz 🩷🩷🩷

Drummer for the group

Listens to FLO n like.. idk sexy bitch music. she is the moment slayy 💃🏽💃🏽💃🏽💃🏽💃🏽

Voice claim is Aaradhna

Flirty. So flirty. So pretty. Gets under Harper's skin a lot, but in a flirty sexy way yknow

🩵 Alto Manukuo / Alto 🩵

Alto's the sweetheart himbo of the group, the bro who can manage to make everyone swoon for him without even trying. Very sweet and kind, has the ultimate puppy eyes tbh

Sometimes, he surfs when he's got the time, but most of the time, he spends it doing gymnastics and / or working out and / or playing with Toni. Likes helping out around the groups house and gives the best hugs for such a short guy. Always energetic and bubbly, will not stop until he'd able to make your day better.

(He's so puppy I NEED HIM 👹👹👹👹👹)

Silly facts:

Likes honeycomb n milk and fry bread

Smells like peach and custard pie

Indonesian-Niuean. youngest of 3 siblings, has 2 older brothers n their two mums

21 years old, birthday is 30th March, starsign is Pisces

Him as a squishmallow would be Harrison the Dog

Bisexual + Genderfluid, uses any pronouns but mainly he/him and she/her

Height is 5'6"

Friend said that though Alto is a cutie because they work out / do gymnastics, so they feel like their closet would mostly have like sleeveless shirts n cropped tops, similar to Bangchan from Stray Kids. Otherwise it'd be soft sweaters n sweatpants because yes

Jeongin-core from the "Which SKZ member are you?" quiz, Jin-core from the "Which BTS member are you?" quiz

Favourite colour is teal, but I use this like light blue emoji for him 🩵🩵🩵

2nd backup vocalist + Electric Guitar for the group

Listens to I have no fucking clue, but it'd be like flowy n vibey yknow

Voice claim is Shaan Singh from Drax Project, absolute loml 😍😍😍😍😍

Golden retriever energy. himbo. solid himbo energy mans onggg

Works out a lot too. Stronk. Squidgy. Need him

Still can't get rid of that CHUNKY THICC ASS 😫😫😫😫😫

[aizawas-upper-left-wisdom-tooth]

Guess I can't do worse than the last guy...

AO3 Link

Ch 1 Ch 4

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Chapter 5 (Look at This Photograph!)

There is the tapping of an owl at the window and I absentmindedly walk over to it while reading Gerald Durrell’s My Family and Other Animals. I’ve been relaxing the past few months after having quit my twice weekly karate classes in April to free up some relaxation time before I start Hogwarts in September. I plan to continue different martial arts lessons in the summer while also keeping up my practice at Hogwarts so that I don’t get rusty.

I had managed to get to a black belt before quitting surprisingly! I honestly thought it would take longer, but seeing as how dedicated I was to the sport for 4 years, time passed much faster and I ranked up quickly! I wasn’t really looking to go into any national championships or anything so I figured I might take up other types of ass kicking when I’m on break.

Paint ball isn’t really a thing yet, but hopefully it will be popular enough in a few years that I can join a team or something to get some pseudo group combat experience before facing off against any death eater bastards in person…. Maybe I can rehash a better dueling club? Put some chaos in the school?.... hmmmm… but then that might spread to those I can’t stop from joining Tom and I want to keep every edge I can… maybe just us marauders? I’ll have to look into it a bit further before going t-

I trip over the foot stool and nearly face plant into the wall next to the window. I had stopped reading in my musings, but hadn’t set down the book held in front of my face. I curse as I stumble, spin wildly, and just barely manage to catch myself with my right hand on the windowsill, while also accidently slamming the side of my book on said windowsill. I quickly pull it back and try and flatten out the now slightly crumpled pages while muttering incoherent curses under my breath.

“Nice one, dipshit.” I grumble to myself and huff out a mildly irritated breath. I try not to take out my irritation on the long-eared owl delivering it’s letter, but it’s hard to wipe the annoyed glare on my face.

Calm down Pete. I think to myself with a sigh. It’s not the owls fault you can’t walk worth shit today.

With a deeper breath, I open the glass with a less irritated, but still pinched face on and watch the owl hop inside onto the built-in perch in front of the window. I quickly grab an “owl treat” from our jar and give it to them after they hand me the letter.

Enid used to always halfheartedly hand them a bit of whatever meat was nearby, but I never liked how unhealthy that is for them. I eventually convinced her to go to the pet shop and pick up a bunch of dead mice to put in a stasis charmed cookie jar for them. The owls appear to be appreciative… at least I think so… I haven’t been bitten since we made the switch, so I can only assume they like it!

I mumble out a thank you as I look at the envelope. Only to promptly freeze in place. There, sitting in my hand, next to my now slightly crumbled book, is my Hogwarts letter.

It’s actually a bit interesting in a stupid sort of way. I knew it would be coming. I’ve done magic, so I know I’m not some fucked timeline variant of Peter who’s a squib. I’ve been in this world for 11 years and change now. I’ve read all about Hogwarts and magic, in both of my lives! Hell, I’ve even been to Gringotts! I’ve spoken with Goblins and seen magical creatures! MY BEST FRIEND IS A VAMPIRE FOR GODS SAKE!.... Yet the sight of this simple letter evacuates the breath out of my lungs.

Hesitantly and carefully, I pop the seal on the front and pull out the letter.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Pettigrew,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1st of September. We await your owl by no later than the 31st of July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

I promptly burst into tears.

The only thing I can think between the, frankly pathetic sniffling sobs, is Thank GOD Enid is at work! I don’t think she would ever let me live this down once she’d recover from the awkwardness.

Theres some weird shift in metaphorical weight on my shoulders. On one hand I feel like I just gained 10 years of life from the weird conformation that this is all fucking real and the passive excitement for attending Hogwarts and being a wizard has quadrupled! A buzzing exhilaration can almost be heard in the room from my magic just being so riled up by my emotions!

But on the other hand, we’re right on the cusp of a goddamned fucking war. Already there have been “mysterious attacks” throughout the magical and muggle world. Most were tiny incidents, but some have started to get bolder and louder. Antonella has mentioned plenty of times about some dark wixen assholes getting louder with their ranting of pureblood ideology or muggle hate and the name “Voldemort” has been heard throughout the magical underground. I’m happy I was able to alert her to Toms group and inform her of their more bigoted viewpoints. She spread the word around her coven, to her coven head, and to her friends outside of it. Hopefully that will help ruin some of his reputation within the dark community… but a few rumors in alienated groups can only go so far.

Tom is real… Voldemort is real… and if all goes to plan… I’m probably going to be fighting the fucker. If not directly, then at least his supporters. Fenrir Greyback and Bellatrix Lestrange were both at the top of my list(aside from Tom himself) along with being my most dreaded fights. I don’t plan on soloing any fight if I can avoid it, but even still, both of them are two different kinds of crazy and powerful I am not looking forward to having to deal with either of them.

I take some deep breaths and sit on the floor. Crossing my legs I do my best to start some breathing exercises and relax my very tense mussels. WOW! This has been some bitchy whirlwind emotions! I begin giggling slightly manically and try and redouble my efforts to calm down.  

Okay… Think.

We have a plan. We know what the horcruxes will be. We’ve been working for years now to not only ensure Tom’s defeat, but also to ensure we have as much fun as fucking possible while we do so! This letter changes nothing! The plan is the plan and we already knew this was all real before now! Even if we die again, it’s not like we haven’t enjoyed ourselves immensely with this extra time we’ve been given! This life is the fucking bonus round, in a SIGNIFICANTLY upgraded reality, we never expected getting! We don’t NEED to take on this responsibility of ending the dark lord, we GET the OPPORTUNITY to learn MAGIC and KICK ASS!...

It takes a bit, but in fairly short order I’ve calmed myself down to a, post panic attack, exhausted numb-ish feeling.

…wow…

Embarrassing~!

Kind of lost my cool there for a second… Yup! I’m gonna relive that disaster when I’m unable to sleep at night! I lie down, groan, and try not to squirm in embarrassment. I’m literally alone in the house! Why do I have to be haunted by my own self-consciousness?

I firmly wipe my drying eyes with my hands and pat my cheeks. Right! There’s work to do! And by work, I mean adding this letter to my scrap book because I want these memories to look back on when I’m old enough to go to bingo night without standing out! Cringe or no, this is my fucking Hogwarts letter and you can pry it out of my cold dead hands!

I sit up and head over to the kitchen. Carefully, I place my letter on the clean counter and walk over to the sink to splash water on my face. Only after I get a drink from the fridge do I start to feel human again. Fucking panic attacks. I huff and slap my cheeks. Right! Let’s do this! I grab my letter and shuffle to the next page where the supplies list is and begin reading through as I walk to my room, being sure to pay closer attention to my damned surroundings this time.

I feel a wave of smugness wash over me as I realize I not only own most of the first-year supplies, but I’m also well acquainted with most of the tools and have read almost all of the books! Though I will need to brush up on some of them since it’s been a few years….I’ll probably have to go on a bit of a scavenger hunt through our book shelves to find them all.

Not only do we have the living room bookshelves, but then also both Enids and I’s bed rooms for our personal collections. Enids office for her work books. The kitchen book shelf for mostly recipe and cleaning books. Then we also have our own library! That’s not even counting the books in storage in the attic! Then it’s been years since we’ve really organized the books and Enid has a bit of a bad habit leaving her fucking books all over the place only to then shove them in the nearest goddamned available spots when she’s done… maybe I need to have a reshelving day…

I quickly pull out my shopping list notebook and copy down the items I know we’ll need to buy in pen, followed by the rest of the items written in pencil so I can erase items if I find we already have them. My occlumency skills are good enough to the point of where I might not need a physical list, but I don’t fully trust them just yet. Not only that, but Enid might need a physical list if we split up when shopping. Theres no way in hell I’m NOT dragging her with me when I get my WAND!

With that done I pull out my scrap book I’ve specifically saved for Hogwarts. Since I don’t have a wand yet and I don’t want to use glue on the nice parchment, I tuck it into the book for now between sheets to keep it safe. I’ll come back to it when I learn the permanent sticking charm (how hard can it be? Walburga did it… will do it?... Eh, point still stands.) After that I place the new scrap book back on the shelf with my childhood scrap book I finished just after my 11th birthday in January of this year. I hesitate a second before pulling that one off the shelf and looking through it.

The very first page has large letterings at the top that read out “IT’S A BOY!?!” followed by a picture of Enid and I that was taken two weeks after I was reborn. Enid has her ‘I’m forcing myself to look bloody happy since it’s to be expected of me’ look on her face while looking up at the camera, then down at me, then off to the side where I think a still pregnant Lynda was standing encouragingly. If you look closely, you can see baby me angrily squinting and straining to make out the world around me. It took me a little over half a year for my eyesight to improve to its current clarity. Fucking baby eyes.

My eyes slide to the next page where a few cheesy, cartoony, muggle bought cupid stickers are placed all over the page. “Babies first words <3~!” are scrawled at the top followed by my quote of “Die mad about it.” Underneath are 2 magically animated caricatures of my grandparents(derogatory) blowing steam out their ears and leaving in a burst of green flames. While I hadn’t made a living as an artist in my previous life, I did draw as a hobby so they aren’t half bad if I do say so myself!

The charm work was done by my mother after she had me draw out a few more frames for reference. The charm works by combining them all and using the imagination of one casting the charm to fill in the blanks between frames! It’s not as smooth or pretty as traditional animation, but it got the job done for the scrap book! I lovingly pat the page and hum contently before continuing on with my reminiscing.

I flip through the years, pausing every now and then to look at the highlights. My first ballet recital where I had tried(and failed) not to steal the show from the other 5-year-olds since it wasn’t their fault they didn’t have a fucking adult brain in their toddler bodies. Enid had snuck a magical camera into the recital. Thankfully the cameras are a relatively new invention so they still look like a slightly older muggle camera, and so I’m able to see ‘beby Pete’ in all of his little turtle glory. The recital was animal themed and I had just narrowly avoided the rat position. While it might have been funny on one aspect, I had preferred to not let any damn rat associations stick with me if I could avoid it.

There’s later my first letter exchange with Antonella along with dates written down and a small drawing of her I had made from memory. Her wax seal had been moved onto the bottom of her letter so I could show it off in the book. I had kept a copy of every letter we’ve sent over the years organized in a shoe box with an expansion charm on it. I’ve done this with all of my letters I’ve sent or received. Not only so I can reminisce, but also so I can fact check and log any evidence I might ever need. If there’s one thing I learned from my time in the 2020’s, it’s that you should document fucking everything! Especially if it’s in writing! Only destroy information if you never want it used against you or your loved ones.

This all had reminded me about the letters I’ve sent anonymously over the years, including the few I had made sure to NOT keep any backups of as extra security for a “just in case” scenario. One of such letters was a list of all of Toms horcruxes, current and future, that I had sent to Dumbledore when I was 8. Definitely NOT a decision that has NOT kept me up multiple fucking times throughout the years after having sent it… Fuck. It had taken a long time of deliberation on what I would say and when I would get the information to him, but ultimately, I decided the sooner and more detailed, the better.

The only horcrux not listed was Harry since I was pretty sure that I had already changed the timeline enough that he wouldn’t become one. Even if, for whatever reason, he eventually did become one. Dumbledore would have enough information to more than likely put the pieces together if I wasn’t there to say anything… provided HE was there to make the connection at least. Bloody fucking hell, I REALLY hope I didn’t fuck over the timeline too bad…

I was sure to list out everything I knew about each horcrux, including the fact that not all of them were made yet, so that he would have as much of a head start as possible. I was also clear in my letter that the future is not written in stone and I have already changed things from my “visions,” so I know that it’s possible to stop some of them from being made. I informed him that I had no idea if Tom would notice any of them being tampered with and stressed the importance of him being DAMN WELL SURE Tom wouldn’t notice any of them disappearing or being destroyed before even thinking of touching them.

I informed him of my plan to wait until Tom/Voldemort was either killed or we killed him to destroy any of the horcruxes so that he didn’t have a chance to make any we wouldn’t know about. That I thought the security of the plan, outweighed what would happen in the period of time it would take to kill him. After informing him of everything I knew about what a threat Tom would turn into and who I knew would be joining him, I left it up to Albus about what to do. I told him that I was not yet ready to fight personally and that, should the time ever come, I would find him to join in the fight against Voldemort.

I shake myself out of my musings and continue on with my reminiscing on the good memories. Theres not much else to do about that at the moment and I can only continue working on my plans for the future. Flipping pages a bit more has me giggling evilly as I think about how it won’t be too much longer before I can finally show off these next few pages to the guys if all goes according to plan. Glued to the page in front of me is a revamped howler I managed to tweak with Antonella’s coven friend, Eric Tomson. Eric is the coven brother who had recommended the book with the spatulamancy ritual in it and is my newest pen pal friend.

Instead of burning itself up after playing a loud message, or blowing up if it’s not opened(and playing the message anyways), the howler acts a bit like one of those birthday cards that replays the message every time you open it! This particular “repeat howler”(as I’ve been calling them) has my memory of “The Dickhead Song by Miles Betterman” recorded in it. It’s memorabilia of the original, actual, howler I sent to Walburga Black on the 3rd of November, 1967. Sirius’s 7th birthday and my first ever present to him.

Honestly, one of the trickiest parts of these howlers was figuring out how to put memories of old songs into them. After some finagling with the extraction spell for pensive memories and a lot of letters back and forth with Antonellas coven. We all managed to make a spell that plays your memories out loud when used. Eric patented the spell and took the credit with our blessing since he did most of the work on it. Enid, bless her heart, has since helped me with the howlers no questions asked with very little bribing involved!

I have sent similar howlers every year, on a random day in Sirius’ birth month, both as a means to try and protect him from any consequences of me sending the letter to the hag and also as a “fun” surprise for the bitch herself as to when she’ll receive it! Howlers already have some general protection charms and anti-vanishment charms on them, so I didn’t have to worry about Walburga simply not listening to them. I even figured out that if you simply don’t seal them with wax, they begin to play as soon as the owl lets it go, thus allowing the letter to unfold and begin its message. I made sure to send actual notes to Sirius the hour before saying “I hope you’ll enjoy this years present! Be sure to burn this before the hag sees it. Sincerely, A Friend.” To help ensure he had a chance at seeing the havoc!

I began sending birthday gifts to the marauders mere months after meeting Antonella, after she told me her top 10 ways to anonymously send letters to people. I always tried switching up the method every now and then to help ensure they wouldn’t be traced back to me. The howlers took some time to perfect, but they were well worth the effort in the end.

To Remus, I began sending chocolates/sweets and funny jokes on the day after the full moon every month and on his birthday, the 10th of March, with the same note “No judgement will befall you in my eyes. Your secret is safe with me. Sincerely, A Friend.” Twice I even managed to afford enough for wolfsbane potions, even if they aren’t half as good as Snapes improvement he’ll make when he’s getting his mastery, that I sent to him for his 9th and 11th birthdays a week before the full moons so he could take them every day leading up to it, as per the instructions on the bottles. I hoped he had been able to enjoy those times as moony, I feel like running around as a wolf might actually be fun if you could remember the experience.

James didn’t have any issues that I could remember but I also didn’t want him to feel left out once it all came out that I was behind these gifts, so I decided on a different approach. Every year on the 27th of March, his birthday, I would send him a stag themed gift. From stuffed animals to custom quidditch equipment and memorabilia(also ordered anonymously, just in case) I would package it up nice and neat and send along the note “You’ll get the joke when you’re older. Sincerely, A Friend.”

Lord above, I wish I could see his face sometimes! He must be so confused! I knew he was a spoiled kid from a rich home, so I always tried to make the items entertaining or nice enough to keep. The stuffed animal stag, for example, was not only high quality but also had a jinx on it that would have it occasionally move to a different spot in the room when not being observed.

I cackle to myself as I continue turning the pages. I spot the repeat howler copies of my first, but far from last, howlers to Fenrir Greyback, Tobias Snape, Eileen Prince and a few others. Along with copies of some anonymous letters I sent to the ministry detailing some… less than legal activities of some dark pureblood families.

Greyback had been on the nasty side of a few stink bomb inventions that might have been more “bomb” than “stink” that I combined with the howlers! The nasty red envelopes would already follow you around and dodge any attacks sent its way, so I merely included my little bombs attached to the envelope! When they were done with their message, they would burst into flames, igniting the bomb in the process! I had already sprayed the envelopes with a sulfur spray to help ensure his damn nose wouldn’t pick up on any sent that might be left on them (not that I would be stupid enough to leave anything that could even vaguely be traced back to me!), I can only imagine it wouldn’t exactly hinder the flames.

I would often send him howlers when the mood struck me(especially at night, when I knew he would be out “hunting”), but the stink bombs would be sent only occasionally so that he wouldn’t get to use to them. I would also sometimes attach flash bangs and magically enchanted dog whistles that would continuously blow until destroyed! I had heard he was the main subject of a few different magical muggle disturbances since I started sending them and I could only hope it was forcing him to lay low more than he’d like.

Whatever I did, I was sure to never include anything personal like my voice, any important dates, my magical signature, ect. The last thing that I needed was a pissed off werewolf hunting me and mine down for revenge!

I stalked the Snape household until I learned a bit of a pattern in their schedules, then I struck. 

I waited until Severus was out of the house and with Lily before sending Tobias Snape 3 consecutive howlers thirty minutes before calling the cops as a “Concerned neighbor” saying that “I’m so scared for the kid that lives there! His father is always yelling and sometimes the boy looks hurt!”

Tobias was raving mad and drunk as hell when the cops showed up. Eileen was out like she always was during the day and so I was the only one to witness Tobias physically assault the police officers while ranting about the howlers, sounding even more insane to the muggles. Watching two bobbies beat the man with their batons was the only time I’ve ever been happy to see police violence. He was obviously arrested on the spot and I carefully watched from my hiding place as they drove off with him in handcuffs.

I had made sure the front door was unlocked(there were no wards around the house, another failure on Eileens part) so that Severus wouldn’t be locked out and hustled out of there. The next day I sent a howler, that I got Enid to record, to Eileen chewing her out for being with such a pathetic man and harping on her for being a terrible mother. Magical CPS is practically nonexistent, another thing to add to the to do list, but gossip is juicy and craved in the wixen world! I wasn’t just watching the Snape house and arrest for no reason, I was documenting.

You see, Eileen Prince ran, and still runs, with some specific social circles in the magical world. She has friends and a reputation that she’s been lying though her teeth to maintain. I compiled a full hot gossip article, ready for print, and sent her a copy right after the howler with the message “Do the right thing. Leave the trash, do the bare minimum job as a mother, and I won’t ruin what little reputation you have.”

I would have just let the British equivalent of CPS take care of the job, but with Eileen being a witch and all… it’s entirely possible that she would have obliviated any muggles involved, or hired someone to obliviate them, to save her rep. This way at the very least, I got Severus out of the physical abuse and kept him connected to both Lily and the magical world. I kept, and have been keeping, an eye on the situation and Eileen has kept Tobias out of the picture (not hard to do when he eventually made it to prison) and has been keeping Severus fed and clothed.

Interestingly enough, Severus and I share a birthday. I decided to send him birthday gifts throughout the years of some basic clothes and some potion books along with the note “It’s not charity, it’s doing what’s right while watching assholes suffer. Did my best, hope this helps. -The bad bitch who got the bastard arrested.” I’ve seen Sev wearing the clothes from time to time and he’s been looking happy and healthier with each of my secretive checkups. I’ll take that as a win.

How exactly did I discover any of these birthdays? Simple, I stalked them. I got lucky with Sev, it was January when I took care of Tobias and I saw the calendar right inside the front door with a small circle around the 9th that piqued my interest. I had started my stalking when I was 4, though, it wasn’t until later that I was able to get any real legwork done and information gathered.

The Blacks and the Potters were both easy to figure out, firstborn sons birthdays of the “ancient and noble houses” were practically holidays. I barely had to ask around before getting every last bit of personal information about them I could ever want. I had also remembered from my last life Remus and James shared a birth month and James was the youngest of the marauders, since I had thought they were interesting tidbits. From there it was just a matter of paying attention to the Lupin family and boom. Birthday information acquired.

After everything with the howlers, I had heavily considered sending some to Tom, but had ultimately decided that that was a terrible idea for anyone who wanted to live for any significant amount of time. As funny as it would be, I need to hang so low under Toms radar that I could play act the devils bath mat. Preferably that man will never even know I exist! And if we do ever meet, I want his last words to be “Who the fuck are you?” before I blow his face off.

I know that no plan survives first contact, but a girl can dream.

I sigh and continue the trip down memory lane as I flip pages and look at old photos or keepsakes.

Different photos of graduations and bits of my old belts from karate, a photo of me covered in a sticky and hard purple/orange sludge from when I tried making potions(that didn’t require a wand) on my own, Enid and I out on a picnic after spending the day at the muggle museums, a picture of a wide eyed Enid staring at the muggle TV in the pub I had dragged her to while we and a bunch of muggles watched the moon landing(can’t wait to drop that bomb on the boys), Kelsey and Lynda Tuberdrain over for one of our playdates where I had gotten us all to try baking without recipes or magic to see who made the most edible food, several different camping photos from over the years, a picture of a herd of mooncalves I had caught sight of during one of those said camping trips, and much, much more.

I huff out a laughing sigh, as I look at the last picture of me and my friends at my 11th birthday taken this past January. Since the year you get your Hogwarts letter is a big deal in the British wixen world, Enid had allowed ALL my friends over for my evening birthday party. Antonella and I had only been able to meet in person a handful of times over the years due to her Vampiric nature.

I had been able to invite both her and Eric to my party! Both had appeared in their full vampiric/gothic regalia! They were both lovely guests and were on their best behavior for the evening, having made sure to have eaten prior to showing up.

The Tuberdrains were pictured off to one side, desperately trying their best to not side-eye the very obvious vampires, while Enid and I acted as both a metaphorical and literal barrier between the two small groups. I had a great time and was sure to send everyone off with personalized party favors at the end of the night, a little extra something or other in each of them.

For the Tuberdrains, it acted as a bit of a pseudo apology for the unexpected guests. While I have no issues with any other magical being, regardless of any conditions they might have, I understand that not everyone shares my viewpoints and ambushing them without warning at the party wasn’t exactly polite.

For my vampiric pen pals, it acted as a bit of a pseudo apology for any negative reactions that the other guests might have had towards them. They most certainly had picked up that the others might have been uncomfortable during the party. Even if I had been spending years of subliminal messaging and sussing out the Tuberdrains to see if they would be okay for this meet up, as the host I was responsible for all of my guests being happy and comfortable at the party.

By hosting without giving proper notice about the other party guests, I put the vibe of the party and the comfort of the guests in jeopardy. The least that I could do was send everyone home with some fucking great gifts to help smooth over any lingering tension. In the end, everyone left on good terms and my experimental mixed company party was a success! I dare any bitch to do better! HA!

I closed the book with a contented smile as I remember the most definitely illegal gift the Vamps got me. They had pooled some funds together to get me a set of books on dark magic, charmed to look like their lighter counterparts. Book of blood/death wards? No sir! Only an advanced copy of regular, good old-fashioned wards here bitch! Enid had eyed the stack carefully and confronted me afterwards. In return for me keeping them and her not throwing them out the second I wasn’t looking; I was forbidden from casting anything from the books until I was graduated and out of the house. A reasonable, if not annoying, price to pay.

I eyed the collection sitting innocently on one of my book shelves. I was about halfway through the lot of them since I was taking detailed notes as I read. I should be done by the time I needed to leave for Hogwarts, which was great because there was no way in hell I was bringing those with me to school! They did remind me though that I did have a book list to gather for school…and… well… if I was already searching the stacks of books, I might as well begin that reshelving I was thinking about!

Standing and stretching, I get an almost manic glint in my eye as I start for Enids office. This has been a long time coming.

Several hours later, Enid stares at me blankly as the (almost literal) forest of books swallows up every available surface throughout the house in a very carefully crafted organized mess. I lock eyes with her for what feels like an eternity, as I slowly set Higgity Harold’s Hexes and Humors down on the ‘Pranks and jinxes part 14’ pile that’s taller than my head.

“… I got my Hogwarts letter…” I say as a way of explanation for the increasingly unsteady piles of possible deathtraps around me.

Enid says nothing as she turns back around and floos to the Leaky Cauldron where she stays the rest of the night, avoiding her problems like an adult.