#vampiric Equinox asks

[miwachan2]

Of course. He'd rarely ever turn down a friendly game of chess :)

greyed out-ish, alternate color:

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 3

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 12k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships.* Wicca, anxiety (making friends takes spoons), self-doubt, lots of secrets being kept, Bat Max comes with his own warning. Summary: Making new friends isn't always easy, but when those new friends are the local coven sometimes it's a lot easier than you think! Notes:  The portrayal of Wiccan characters in this story is based on my own experience and the experiences of people I know personally. It's very safe to say that almost all practitioners have their own special way of doing things and each coven is a little different, so we're just going with what we know. 🧡🧹🍁 A little insight into Dolly's mansion: this chapter image is the fireplace in the morning room at the real life Chateau-sur-Mer!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2

Waking up to no alarm, no banging or crashing around the house, and no feeling of terror at being late for work is a very strange sort of miracle. The sun is up and the clock on the mantle reads eight o’clock, but the house is silent. That in and of itself is odd, but what is stranger is that you don’t remember getting into bed last night. Popping up from the plush pillows, you find yourself covered with your own comforter and still in your clothes from yesterday, but your book is sitting neatly on the chaise and the window is shut. Did you just have the weirdest ass dream in the world about petting a bat and reading to it? You must have. Right? There is no way that actually happened…

There’s a soft knock on the door. Hearing you stir slightly has Renee waiting for you to give permission to enter before she turns the handle and smiles as she walks in. “Good morning, Dolly.” She murmurs softly. “Would you like a breakfast tray here or would you prefer to eat in the dining room?” Learning your preferences is key and since Mrs. Taylor is handling the blood from the blood bank in the kitchen right now, she doesn’t want you wandering in.

“Morning Renee.” A little groggy from the confusion of how you woke up, you dig the palm of your hand into your eye and smother a yawn. “I’ll come downstairs, you don’t have to bring a tray all the way up.” You’re more than capable of going downstairs, of course. And if your roommates are downstairs you don’t want to seem rude or standoffish.

“It’s no problem.” Renee protests. “Max and Eddie have already eaten, having early morning schedules.”

Somehow you didn’t figure Max for an early riser, but you shrug off that detail and offer her a smile. “I’ll still come down,” you decide. “Maybe a trip into town would be good today? Just to check things out and get to know the area.” It’s Mabon, but you don’t know if anyone else in the house is pagan or Wiccan or would be offended by having witchy holidays brought up, so you don’t say anything. Instead you’ll just quietly get a few fall-themed things for your room and not bother anyone else with it.

“It is the beginning of the autumn equinox, so perhaps it would be good for you to tour around.” Renee nods. “Mrs. Taylor and I will be setting the house up and Mr. Taylor will be decorating.”

“How did you—?” It’s like she was reading your mind, and you tilt your head slightly in curiosity. “I don’t suppose Newport has an autumn festival or a farmer’s market this weekend?” It’s too much to ask that there might be a community of witches nearby, but your parents’ Wiccan upbringing has seeped into your bones and happily stuck there.

The younger housekeeper nods with a small chuckle. “Of course there is. We are only two hours from Salem.” She explains. “This is a magical time of year where traditions outweigh conservatism.”

“Then I think I’ll head into town after breakfast.” The idea of fresh air and maybe hearing someone wish others a Blessed Mabon again gives you a comfort you didn’t know you needed.

“If you need any directions or would like to be driven around, just let me know.” Renee tells you before she hums. “Oh, would you like to drive the Volvo or the Corvette?” She asks. “Mr. Taylor was in the process of giving the Volvo a tune up, but he can have it available for you whenever you need.”

“I don’t want to bother or interrupt anyone.” You insist right away, sitting up and moving to the edge of your bed. “I guess…I’ll drive the Corvette? It’s…that is okay, right?”

“Of course.” She gives you a smile, having already concluded that you will be asking permission for things rather than just doing. Perhaps in time it will change, but she will just roll with it for now.

“Okay.” Adjusting to the idea that these things are yours to do with as you please is going to take a long time, but you nod. “I’ll be down in a few minutes, then.”

“Of course.” She repeats, nodding respectfully and turning to slip out of the room. She will let Mr. Taylor know to pull the corvette out of the carriage house and tell Mrs. Taylor that you are ready for breakfast.

******

It seems like Newport has two parts. There is the ritzy, expensive, even touristy part of town — and then there is the old New England side of things. The locals are a little crotchety but ultimately nice enough, and one even pointed out his favourite coffeeshop to you when you finally ambled your way into the farmer’s market nearby. There are farm stands and crafts people, handmade goods and stalls from small businesses selling everything from soap and tea to jewelry and housewares. It’s an autumn festival minus the feast, but with all the food for sale it won’t be hard to make a feast of your own.

“Miss?” The vendor for the Say Cheese! booth, a gourmet, small batch cheese producer, tries to catch your attention. “Would you like to try some of our caramelized onion and thyme goat cheese?” She asks, offering a tray of the creamy spread that has been smeared on crackers. “Or we have honey and fig if onions aren’t you’re thing.”

You almost want to ask if it’s okay to try both, but that seems greedy until you turn and find a girl about your age with a shiny ’She/Her’ pronoun pin affixed to her apron alongside a name tag that reads ‘Allison’ in curving, cheery lettering. A foam witch’s hat is stuck to the corner and covered in purple glitter, making it extra chipper. “That sounds wonderful,” you say instead, nodding and stepping closer to the booth.

“It is.” She insists. “Although the pumpkin spiced brie can be a little…targeted.” She laughs and shrugs. “But it’s actually pretty good.”

“I’m a big fan of pumpkin spice.” The little witch hat makes you smile and you shrug. “Don’t they say that clove, cinnamon, and ginger keep evil away in folklore? That’s most of what pumpkin spice is.”

“To be honest?” She grins conspiratorially. “Most in my coven are thrilled that it’s become so popular. Protection while not even being aware.”

“You have a—?” You nearly freeze when she says out so freely - so openly - and blow out a happy breath. Happy is an odd feeling. “Blessed Mabon.”

“Blessed Mabon.” Her smile deepens and her eyes light up with delight. “May your harvest be bountiful and your light bright.”

“May the equinox bring you abundance and joy.” That was always your mother’s favourite way to return a Mabon blessing, and you had adopted it over the years. Not that you had had anyone to celebrate with in years, but that’s different. “I—I’m so glad to meet you.” Despite Renee assuring you that there are plenty of pagans, Wiccans, and witches in Newport, you hadn’t just expected to run into one first thing.

“I don’t know if I’ve seen you here before.” Allison comments as she starts to load up a small taster plate with an assortment of cheeses for you to try. “Are you just visiting or new to the area?”

“I just moved.” Though you’re wary of giving more detail than that, this woman is beaming and friendly. “Just trying to get out and see the town a little this morning and you’re the first person I’ve actually met.”

“Then that means we are connected.” Allison beams, reaching behind her neck and removes the smoky quartz crystal that is hanging on a delicate chain. “Here. A welcoming gift for you. It had been blessed during Beltane.”

She does not mean to be anything but kind and perhaps generous, but the gesture of a gift almost has you in tears as she presses the crystal into you stunned, frozen palm. It’s such a small gesture to her, no doubt, but any kind of gift nearly has you in tears that you have to wave off quickly. “Everyone has been so kind since I got here,” you explain quickly. Everyone but Max, you think just as quickly, but she doesn’t need to know your saga. Especially when your other hand has the sample plate in it now and you can’t even recall her putting it there. “It’s overwhelming. In a good way.”

“Our community can be very friendly.” She chatters happily. “Perhaps a bit odd, but that always comes with the supernatural, right?”

"Usually." You smile a little, eventually closing your fingers around the crystal and nodding gratefully. "Thank you...Allison." Her nametag is just out there shining in the sun and you gesture toward it before you introduce yourself.

“You are most welcomed.” She hands you the plate with a slight flourish. “Please let me know what you like out of these cheeses.” She tells you. “And, if you are interested, we have the harvest bonfire tonight.”

"Really?" Again your head shoots up in surprise, and the question is muffled around a bite of the pumpkin spice brie that makes you groan immediately in delight.

“Absolutely.” She winks at you and grins at the absolute bliss on your face. “It’s the first night of the spooky season. We have an eclectic group that comes together. Maybe you would like to meet some spiritual sisters?”

"My roommates were talking about decorating the house." It's still odd to think of having roommates - of living with anyone besides Derek - but remembering the little bat from your dream does make you smile. "I haven't had a coven since college. It...would be really nice to have a community again."

“We are welcoming to all.” She promises and pulls out a little card that has the information on it. “We start a little before sundown, socialize and relax.” She tells you. “Please come. It’s always fun.”

"Thank you." Your quiet murmur is full of gratitude, and moments later when the samples are gone from the little plate, you are buying all three flavours of cheese and whatever else Allison recommends from the stand she is working at. With the ability to actually spend money comes the desire to make sure that it goes to people who will actually benefit directly from your purchases - it's going to be a lot of farmers markets for you in the future and not so much time spent in big chain grocery stores.

Once the transaction is completed, Allison smiles at you. “I hope to see you later?” She asks questioningly.

"I think so." There is always a chance you'll get too anxious and freak yourself out a bit, but you nod. You want to have the emotional energy to make new friends tonight. Maybe you'll cut your outing short earlier in the day so that you don't run out of steam. It's been a long time since you had something you actually wanted to do like this. "Is--can I bring anything?" Always taught never to show up empty handed, you'll surely end up bringing something no matter what the answer is.

“An opened mind and heart.” Allison shakes her head. “Our guests are never required to bring anything more. It will be our pleasure to host you this evening.”

"I'll see you tonight." You will make it work. And besides -- the trip out this morning will have to be quick. You've got precious cheese to get back home.

******

“I hope that she is okay.” Mrs. Taylor glances out the window with a frown on her face. “She seems like such a timid thing. So surprising about that, considering.”

“We don’t know what she’s been through,” Renee reminds the older woman, methodically working her way through folding the last of your laundry. There was a lot of it that seemed barely touched — fun things like dresses and logo tees or more fitted things — and looser, more office work clothing and jeans that are surely baggy on you, that look far more worn. “A lot’s happened in her life. Or at least…a lot could have happened.”

“It makes me want to protect her.” Mrs. Taylor admits quietly. She’s never had children of her own, but that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have a motherly instinct. “No wonder he wanted her brought here.”

“He should have been able to protect her before now.” Renee tuts, carefully folding a sweater depicting a black cat perched like they’re in a windowsill. “But that’s none of our business, of course.”

“There were reasons.” She’s not sure what those reasons are, but there’s very little he does that doesn’t have reasoning behind it.

“I’m sure.” She isn’t, not really, but Renee has never been the one to make the decisions. She prefers it that way. “At least we can do our part in taking care of her now.”

“Of course we can. It’s why he had her brought here.” She’s incredibly proud of her role in taking care of Cookie and there is a lot of trust that was placed in her hands to do that. Renee hasn’t been with the family quite as long, so she doesn’t understand that quite yet. “Perhaps we can put together a lovely tea time when she gets back.”

“I’ll be surprised if she doesn’t come back with a few things from the farmer’s market.” The thought of you settling in makes the younger woman smile and she sets the stacks of your folded clothes into the dresser beside her. “We can make a tray with some of what she finds?” As if on cue, the front door opens and closes, the sound reverberating through the house despite being gentle. “Hopefully that’s her,” Renee hums, quickly depositing the last of your clean things in the bureau and heading for the stairs.

Nodding, Mrs. Taylor quickly follows the younger housekeeper out of the bedroom to see who has come inside. Mr. Taylor is finishing up with the car out in the carriage house but he would come in the back door.

“Good afternoon, ma’am.” Renee is the first to spot you, looking a little more relaxed than when you left this morning and caring many more bags. “Please, allow me.”

“Oh, it’s okay, Renee.” The fresh air has you feeling better, after having spent hours at the farmer’s market and debating whether or not to take a walk around the nearest bakery or florist shop, only to end up overwhelmed by the change in the people in those places. They were tourists - obviously wealthy and snobbish - and not nearly as friendly as the people you’d met at the market. “Only…” You separate out the bag that has your precious cheeses in it. “I wonder if you wouldn’t mind putting these in the refrigerator for me? The farmer’s market had amazing things.”

“Absolutely.” She beams, happy that you had found things that you wanted at the market. “Mrs. Taylor was just suggesting putting together a tea tray for you. Would you like anything from here on it?” She asks, wanting you to have some input.

“There is a spiced plum tea and some goat cheese with fig that—” As soon as the thought begins, you frown and shake your head, becoming tight and self-conscious again. “You don’t have to trouble yourselves. I can take care of it. I—don’t want to give either of you more work than you already have.”

"Of course." She nods, but she has no intention of listening to you. There is plum tea and fig goat cheese that you have fallen in love with, so that will be added to the tray along with the tea sandwiches that Mrs. Taylor has no doubt already started making in the kitchen.

“I’ll just go and put these things upstairs first.” Crystals, candles, some waxed flowers, and cute little needlepointed pillow with a bat in a pile of leaves have all come home with you and they’re going to help your space feel a little more personal instantly.

"I'll bring the tray up in just a moment," Renee turns. "Unless you would like to have tea in the morning room?" The light is bright and airy in there and it's a lovely space for a tea service.

“You don’t have to—” Her face makes it abundantly clear that there will be a tea tray and the only conversation she’s willing to entertain about it is the location in which you will be receiving it. “The morning room would…it sounds very nice,” you admit after a breath. “Thank you, Renee.”

"There was a book on your bedside table this morning." She mentions quietly. "Would you like me to bring it down so you can read, or is that an evening book?"

“That’s an old favorite.” The hundred-year-old copy of Jane Eyre has even seeped its way into your dreams, but you enjoyed it thoroughly. “I’ll pick something else from the shelves for day reading.” It’s such a luxury, and it’s hard to process that that is your life now. Luxury. Doing whatever you want. No one is going to stop you.

"Of course." This time the nod is accompanied by a small smile before the assistant housekeeper rushes off to make sure that your tea tray includes the small little treats you had brought back from your first trip to the town.

The small bags with goodies in them are easily deposited in your room, where you notice that your childhood throw blanket with ballet slippers prominently featured has been folded and left at the bottom of your chaise, and your bed has been made again. It’s not bad, it’s just…odd. Something your great-aunt was so used to and maybe occasionally even took for granted…that you will have to remind yourself is perfectly reasonable. Refocusing yourself, you put down your bags and take the little throw pillow out, deciding to bring it down to the morning room window seat with you. It will be a sweet little thing to have with you, and you can bring it upstairs again afterward so that you don’t get in anyone’s way.

******

"She has been to the farmer's market and would like to use the plum tea and the fig goat cheese." Renee hums happily as she sweeps into the kitchen with the bag you had given her. As she had expected, the little three tiered display is already layered with little sandwiches on the bottom. She's sure some are cucumber and others are the curry chicken salad she had been experimenting with.

“I’m sure she insisted she would do it herself, and that we shouldn’t trouble ourselves?” Mrs. Taylor raises one eyebrow but continues her work on the tea server, adding orange flavored Madeline cakes to the top tier.

"You know she did." Renee tuts and rolls her eyes, although she's not bad mouthing you. "I will start to brew the tea."

“Did it seem she enjoyed herself at least?” The two women are very coordinated in the kitchen and move gracefully around each other as Renee starts the kettle and Mrs. Taylor puts the other cheeses away. There are some lovely crackers in the pantry that she can include to go with the cheese you particularly wanted to enjoy today.

"There was light in her eyes that was not there yesterday." Renee confirms as she brings out the silver teapot to set on the tray. Ms. Brown's favorite tea set is already laid out and tomorrow, Renee will suggest rotating the sets until they are certain of which ones that you prefer. She pulls out the canister with the sugar cubes to put into the small dish. "I would say that she enjoyed herself very much."

“We can finish decorating for the autumn this afternoon.” Mrs. Taylor decides, working quickly to make sure the tea service is just so. “Mr. Taylor brought the rest of the decorations down from the attic for us and Mr. Finchley suggested adding some garlands to the outer gates.”

“That sounds good.” Renee agrees. “I think that it will be good to have a sense of ‘life’ back in the mansion.”

“As it were.” Mrs. Taylor chuckles as she arranges the seeded crackers on the tea stand. “With so many undead about, it seems an ironic choice.”

“I honestly wonder if there doesn’t need to be a human in the house.” Renee muses. “When it was just us, there was something missing. I’m sure that I’m not the only one who felt it.”

After a moment, the younger woman hums again. “There does seem to be an extra element of activity with a human around.” For Renee, it is treasured. She was turned hundreds of years ago but she is still pulled toward humanity for so many reasons other than their blood. “Do you think…perhaps Eddie has taken a shine to her already?”

“He has.” Mrs. Taylor looks up from arranging the crackers with just the perfect amount of cheese with a hopeful smile. “I’m not sure if it’s brotherly or romantic yet, but our dear Eddie so needs another tender heart around.”

“Wonderful.” Renee sighs. “It would most wonderful for everyone to be happy.” But after a moment more of consideration, she chews on her lip and turns her head back to the older vampire. “Is Max trying to irritate Dolly?” She asks warily.

“He might be.” And it bothers the housekeeper to no end, knowing how timid you are. “He doesn’t know…” she shakes her head, carefully cutting coins of the goat cheese you found today. “If he did, he would leave well enough alone.”

“Or he would be trying to smooze her.” Renee snorts. “Which might be even worse than irritating her. If he touches her, he might stake him and not bring him back again.”

“We would be getting a surprise visit immediately if Max decided to do that.” Considering the way their boss had behaved when suitors arrived for the other young lady of the house so long ago.

Renee winces and shakes her head. “He will stay away if he knows what’s good for him.” She huffs with a smirk, knowing Max Phillips is nothing if not egotistical enough to try to play some game with you.

“But he doesn’t,” Mrs. Taylor reminds Renee as she puts the finishing touches on the food our your tea tray. “That’s how he ended up here in the first place.”

“I remember.” Renee snorts. “I had to take care of him when he was first brought back and his new skin was raw.”

“I still don’t understand why he felt strongly enough to bring Max back.” It was a mystery that Mrs. Taylor had not quite parceled out yet, but she certainly spent more time thinking about it than she let on.

“Of all the vampires he could have brought back.” Renee hums, shaking her head. “Max Phillips is the one he chose.”

“He will have had his reason.” Although what it is, Mrs. Taylor has yet to figure out. Instead she sets silverware and a cloth napkin on the service cart with the tiered server and dishes. The only thing missing now is the tea, and that should be ready momentarily.

As soon as the teapot starts to whistle, Renee pulls it off the heat and flips open the lid to the serving teapot, pouring the hot water in to infuse with the tea leaves you had brought home. Closing the lid with a satisfied smile. “There. Now I will deliver this to Dolly.”

“Will you let her know that dinner can be served wherever she likes tonight?” Mrs. Taylor wipes her hands and begins to pick up the counter right away. “Eddie and Max will both be out. I didn’t ask why, but it will be good for her to be able to relax.”

“Yes ma’am.” Renee wheels the cart out of the kitchen towards the elevator.

******

Upstairs, you have unearthed a first edition copy of Shirley Jackson's We Have Always Lived in the Castle and settled back in the window seat with your little pillow and the muted afternoon sun. Every window in the house seems to be coated with something that tints the light the barest shade of yellow and you wonder vaguely if it was some Victorian architecture fad. Or if architecture even has things like fads.

Wheeling the cart into the ‘secret’ room, Renee finds you already settled into the window seat and smiles. “Tea is served.” She announces, happy to see that you do not startle when she comes in. Yesterday you looked like you would jump out of your skin, but something about the new day seems to have settled you.

"You really didn't have to." Although you had a feeling that she might. Mrs. Taylor is the type to do things properly or not at all, and Renee is her dutiful second in command. "Thank you, of course." Grateful as you are, you put your book aside as Renee sets the cart beside you by the window.

“My pleasure.” She nods respectfully and steps back. “Mrs. Taylor and I are going to finish decorating this afternoon, but we will be available anytime you need us.”

"Thank you," you murmur again, catching a whiff of the spiced tea that you brought home and rolling over in your mind whether you want to venture out of the house tonight. Allison was so friendly, but you're nervous. "Renee...can I ask you something?"

“Anything.” Her job is to take care of the house and you are now a part of that. Anything you need, any questions you have, she will help as much as she can.

"I was invited to an event tonight." As silly as you feel about asking a virtual stranger for her opinion, Renee has been so kind to you at every turn. So you pull the little card that Allison gave you out of your pocket and hand it to the young woman. "A local coven is having a Mabon bonfire. I only..." you frown slightly, feeling small as you shrink against the wall. "I don't know if I ought to go? Or if that would be imposing too much."

There was a time that vampires and witches were enemies. At that time, she would have encouraged you to keep your distance. That had changed over the millennia and they had joined forces to keep the secrets of the world away from the humans, except for rare exceptions. “Allison?” She smiles as she looks down a the card. “You should go. I was supposed to tell you that dinner will be served wherever you wish tonight, but I think you will be out during the dinner hour.”

"I haven't had a coven in so long." When Renee hands the card back to you, it ends up cradled in your hands like precious cargo. "And she was so terribly nice."

“I know her vaguely. She’s extremely nice.” She agrees. “She would come to visit Ms. Brown sometimes.”

"Was...Ms. Brown...?" Somehow the image of this ninety-one-year-old woman that you had in your head with the first phone call from the lawyer's office has already changed twice over in the very little time you've been here, but you still hadn't expected this find out she was Wiccan.

“A witch?” Her brow arches up and she purses her lips in amusement that you cannot quite come out with the questions you need answered. “Oh yes. Probably the greatest witch in Newport, perhaps the East Coast. She oversaw the coven for years until….” She shakes her head. “Until her heart was no longer in it. Then she allowed others to take over.”

"Do you mind if I ask you what changed?" You could understand if age or infirmity had kept her from being as active in her coven, but this is not what it sounds like Renee is saying.

“She….lost someone close to her.” Renee knows she is not permitted to tell you the truth, that would have to come from him, at his discretion. However, acknowledging some of the reasoning behind Cookie’s change of heart cannot be too bad. “Very dear to her.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” It feels like intruding to ask more, so you only nod your understanding and leave the topic alone for now. “Well…thank you, Renee. Again. I think I will go out tonight after all.” It feels heavier now, somehow. More important. And there is a thought in the back of your mind that getting to know this relative you had never met by accepting the invitation of someone she knew is the best possible way to spend your night.

She bites her lip and then nods, as if making up her mind, which she has. “If the tea can hold for a few minutes, perhaps you will allow me to show you something?”

“Of course.” There’s nothing wrong with letting a teapot steep, and you set your book and pillow aside immediately.

“Follow me.” She asks, turning to leave the morning room through the bookcase door.

Through the hidden door in the wall and through to the library, you’re surprised when Renee crosses the room toward the marble hall and pulls open an even more hidden door in the window nook. This one has no visible knob but is activated with the pull of a false book exactly like a spooky story or horror film. A room no bigger than a closet houses an elaborate spiral staircase that seems to crawl up toward the sky and Renee beckons for you to follow. Up and up and up, the ornately carved wooden staircase just keeps going until you’re sure there can’t possibly be any house left, because you’ve counted to four floors and you were certain the place only had three.

When the stairs run out, they deliver you into the most incredible open room covered in overlapping rugs and thick, heavy, blue velvet curtains. The ceiling is painted like the night sky — blue-black with silver and gold stars and an immense chandelier that hangs high in the middle of the room. Renee has moved to the wall quickly, pressing a button that turns on the electric lights in the chandelier and lights up the room. The shape of the sloping gold and purple-fabric covered walls and ceiling tell you that you’re in the top of the East tower on the left of the house, but the point is driven home when you can see out the tinted window to the front yard. In front of the window, though, is a sizable altar all decorated in candles and a myriad of different size bowls of many materials. To the left is a bronze statue of a goddess and to the right in a black marble statue of a god - the two images presiding over the rest of the altar like the dutiful deities they are.

“This was her ‘spell room’ as Cookie liked to call it.” Renee tells you fondly. Even though they had believed that the room might never be used again, it is meticulously dusted. A labor of love to the woman who had used it before you. Now, Renee was proud to believe that the tradition of a witch in Chateau-sur-Mer would continue.

“I guess it really does run in the family…” Carefully stepping up to the altar, you hum with satisfaction to see that the goddess statue depicts Persephone and the god is Hades — favorite deities of yours, as well. “My parents were witches, too. Our altar at home had statues of Artemis and Apollo. My mother loved the idea of the balance between moon and sun.”

Renee nods, keeping her face neutral. “Another good set of deities.” She agrees.

“This is amazing…” There are elements of old traditions and new all over the room. A hand sewn broom leans against a case of carefully crafted poppets. An enormous collector cabinet dominates the far wall with labels for every herb and potion ingredient you can think of, and a circular scrying table stands ready in the middle of the room. Gothic style chairs surround it, suggesting it was used for much more than just scrying. “I never would have guessed,” you admit, looking back at Renee in wonder. “Not in a thousand years.”

“That is a good thing.” She tells you with a grin. “It’s supposed to be a secret.”

“Then it will stay a secret.” You make a motion out zipping up your lips, locking them, and throwing away the key. “Is it…a secret from other people in the house?” Noticing other doors off of the room, you curiously poke your head over to see if any of the doors are open. Most are open archways, but one door is firmly shut.

“No. The - they know of it.” It was never a secret here what Cookie was, not when this was her refuge.

“Okay.” Nodding, you look back at the door and then to Renee. “Is there a key for this door?” The handle hadn’t budged when you tried it, and fortunately you hadn’t seen the maid flinch, either.

“There is a key.” She bites her lip and wonders if you want it bad enough to go in there.

“One I would assume Mrs. Taylor has?” The blinding fear of curiosity in your chest is a little nerve wracking, and you try to push it aside even though it has your blood beating in your ears. Forcing yourself to smile and step away from the door that has all of your focus narrowed on it, you swallow and feel the tingles of nerves all through your veins. “Tea will be cold if we stay up here much longer,” you decide, steadily trying to ignore the door that seems to call your name personally.

“Of course, Dolly.” She tilts her head, wondering if she had imagined the shiver that rolls through your body. She focuses on your heartbeat and finds it slightly faster than normal, which is already ticking at a nervous beat.

When you all but flee back downstairs, Renee is at your heels but leaves you to go through to the morning room alone. Or— you thought you would be alone. But when you walk in, Max is sitting in the window seat wrinkling his nose at your tea tray.

Max looks up from the tray that includes nothing bloody and the clove from the tea is nearly overwhelming. Grinning, he thinks about how you had stroked a bat who was sitting in your lap last night. “Hey Dolly.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks on his heels. “Looks like you’ve settled right in. Cozy little tea?”

“Renee— a-and Mrs. Taylor…they—” There is judgement in his voice. An accusation. And instantly you are petrified of what he might think of you. “I didn’t ask for it,” you insist, hands shoved into your pockets instantly as your posture shrinks.

Your reaction is completely off kilter for his good-natured teasing. “Of course you didn’t.” He tuts. “You wouldn’t ask boo from a ghost.”

"I just went to the farmer's market and they were nice enough to make a tray for me." With your eyes trained on the rug, you shrug your shoulders and let your weight shift from one foot to the other awkwardly.

“What smells?” He asks you, moving over to the teapot. “It’s like a batch of potpourri. Very…spicy.”

“Clove and cinnamon. And I think some ginger, too.” The three ingredients remind you of what you and Allison had observed about pumpkin spice and you almost manage a smile. “It’s Plum Spice black tea.”

"It's....pungent." He comments, picking it up and lifting the lid, curling his nose up at the strong scent. Still, he pours the purplish tea into the dainty flowered cup sitting on the small plate. He picks it up and shrugs, "Whadya take in this? Flowers?'

“Flowers can be delicious,” you protest softly, but motion to the tray again. “Sugar or honey, or whatever sweetener you like. I guess you could do cream if you wanted but fruit tea never seemed like a good choice for cream to me.”

Max frowns slightly and adds one sugar cube to the tea and stirs it, before adding a drizzle of honey. Tilting his head and biting his lip as if he were performing delicate surgery before handing it to you.

“I—um…thank you…” You had fully expected him to drink it himself, and when you take the cup from him it’s like you’ve forgotten what to do with it for a second. “Would you, um …want to sit with me?“ Even the most awkward of moments deserve kindness, don’t they?

“Sure.” Max shoots you a grin and sets himself down on the other side of the window seat and uses a small pair of tongs to poke around the three tiered tray. Not even a rare roast beef finger sandwich. He huffs slightly and picks up a cream cake. “So…how did you like the town?” He asks with a smirk to hide the grimace as he takes a bite of the cake. It’s no blood pudding, that’s for sure.

“It’s beautiful.” The turning leaves and picturesque streets that you saw while driving around today were lovely. Perfect for a gorgeous fall day. “And bigger than I thought it would be. I’m pretty sure I saw a cruise ship in the harbor.”

“It’s okay.” Max shrugs as he takes another bite of the cake. “Very slow kind of life here. Am I right?”

“That’s not always bad.” You would take slow and steady over the chaos of uncertainty any day of the week, but Max seems like the kind of person who likes to stay busy.

“Maybe.” It still irks him that Evan got the best of him. Him and that little doormat girlfriend of his. Zara Beth was more to his taste, she had teeth. “Must have been a good night though? Didn’t hear any screams of terror.”

“No, no nightmares or anything like that.” In fact, you’d slept remarkably well considering it was your first night in a new place. The anxiety of uncertainty hadn’t been a problem. And you’d had lovely dreams to boot. “Do you mind if I ask you how long you’ve lived here?”

“Four years.” That admission comes with a distinct grumble.

“And you don’t like it?” You guess, from the way he seems to begrudge that little piece of information.

“It’s not bad.” He huffs. “But it’s more that I’m a --" he stops, shrugging slightly since he has no real reason to grumble besides being told to stay put.

“Maybe you just haven’t found the thing that makes it enjoyable yet.” Everything has a silver lining, you have told yourself many times. Right now your silver lining is that your tea is perfect. Who knew sugar and honey was the way to go?

Max chuckles, knowing that despite not knowing you well, a comment about orgies leaving him unfulfilled wouldn’t go over well. “Maybe. Could always get a pet.”

“That would be sweet.” All of the snacks that were put out for you amount to a sizable lunch, and it isn’t until you start eating Mrs. Taylor’s amazing food that you realize how hungry you were. “What sort of pet?”

“A fox.” Max hums, smirking slightly. “Or a bat. That would be cool.”

“Bats are sweet.” Or, at least, the one you had a dream about last night was adorable. “They get a bad reputation.”

His brow lifts and he settles back against the fluffy, embroidered pillows. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” You agree, taking another sip of your tea. “They’re cute. I mean cats and dogs and stuff are cute too, obviously.”

“A pet bat, huh?” Max hums, wondering if you will admit to your experience last night. “Dogs don’t like me.” It’s a natural reaction, smelling that they aren’t the top of the food chain when he’s around. “Cats just…don’t listen.” He can admire that, but as a moody creature himself, he doesn’t want that reflected in his pet.

“So you’d go for a bat instead?” It actually makes you smile, which might be the first time that you’ve ever smiled at him. It’s half from him and half remembering your extremely vivid dream. “I’ve always wondered if they like to be pet,” you admit after a second.

“They do.” Max can attest to that, but he gives you a shrug. “Watched some bat thing on NatGeo.” He explains. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Good to know.” It somehow makes the dream you had sweeter, and you smile a little wider at the knowledge. The mood between you and Max is calmer now, as if you’ve found a little common ground, as you’re silent for a moment before asking another innocuous question. “Did you have a good morning? Renee said you and Eddie left the house early.”

“Early bird gets the worm.” Max quotes with a grin. “I had some business meetings that I wanted to get out of the way before the sunset tonight.” He hums. “Too many witches out and about.”

The thought that you don’t know any places that do business meetings on Saturdays is walked away instantly by dread. “Do you…” Appetite suddenly gone, you set your teacup on its saucer. “Do you not like witches?” You can’t figure out why you should even care because you don’t much like Max, but somehow it still stings.

“Nah. They’re okay.” He watches you closely. “But I’d rather be socializing tonight than working.” He winks at you and grins.

“I mean it might not be an out-and-out party like Beltane can be, but I would hardly call celebrating Mabon work.” Just like flipping a switch in your mind, the defense that rolls off your tongue is completely automatic. Having spent many years feeling like you either shouldn’t speak about your faith at all or having to defend it when you do, you can’t help yourself — but you clamp your mouth shut immediately when you realize Max is smirking even more widely now.

“Well, well, well.” Despite your fiery outburst, which has a sensation similar to butterflies fluttering in Max’s stomach, he’s nothing short of amused. “Blessed Mabon, Dolly.” He chortles. “The witch of Newport is here to claim her throne.”

“I don’t know anything about a throne…” That definitely should have been mentioned by now if it was literal but you just can’t imagine it would be at all. “But…thank you. A blessed Mabon to you, as well.”

“So do you have plans for the night?” He waggles his brows. “We could dance naked around a fire in the garden.” He suggests playfully.

“I was invited to a bonfire.” You tell him, though it still feels odd to have been invited anywhere at all. “I met someone from the local coven while I was out today.”

“Ah.” He picks up a cracker and small medallion of cheese. “I see. You met…was it Allison or Tracy today?” He asks curiously. The witches are friendly to him, but he’s never taken it beyond flirting.

“Allison.” It takes a second to remember that Renee said that Allison had been around the house when Ms. Brown was alive, so that accounts easily for how Max knows her. “She was working at the Farmer’s Market.”

“So you’re going to the pot luck?” He asks, trying the cheese and finding it to be slightly better than the cake.

“I was planning on it.” Despite knowing he doesn’t technically have a say in what you do, you’re prepared for him to tell you no. To tell you to stay home or give you a reason not to go and meet the rest of the coven. Years upon years of experience have conditioned you to expect a ‘no’ and now you don’t even realize you’re bracing for it.

Max purses his lips and looks out the window. “A good night for it.” He agrees. “Take a sweater, Dolly.” The night can get a little cool after the sun goes down with the wind coming off the water. “It can get brisk after dark and you call if you have too much of the festive punch.” He teases with a smirk.

"I don't drink." The words are quiet but firm, and you pick up a cracker topped with a perfectly round slice of goat cheese. "But I'll bring a sweater." The obediance is automatic, but you dont know if he's giving orders on purpose. Or if he's just trying to give a kind suggestion and your mind has been actively rewired to perceive it as an order.

“So why don’t you drink?” Max asks, keeping his tone conversational for once instead of slightly mocking. You’re still young, and it’s not a religious thing.

"Ex-boyfriend was an alcoholic." It's only just starting to feel real, the 'ex' part, but you shrug. "I know not everyone who drinks overdoes it, but I just...don't like it anymore. Not when I've seen what it can do to someone." Someone I love is the end of that thought, but surely alcohol has fucked up a whole lot of lives that you personally had nothing to do with.

Max’s eyes narrow, his hands - idly playing with the edge of a pillow braid curls into a tight fist - entire body tensing as he sense that there is a lot more to that statement. “Really?” For all his cocksure bravado, Max had manners instilled into him by his own father. And suddenly the actions that seemed bashful when he first met you are making more sense. “Did he drink himself to death?”

"No." When you shake your head, your eyes are back down on the rug immediately. "He drank himself into debt, into irresponsibility, and into anger." Violence would be a more accurate word, but you're not ready to talk about that yet. Not at all. "It--it's lucky that I had this house to come to. That's all."

It’s a good thing that you are looking away from him at the moment, because Max’s eyes flash a deep and unnatural yellow before shifting back into their normal brown as he forces himself to relax. You aren’t his to protect and he doesn’t know why he wants to protect you. He doesn’t know you. “Then it’s good Cookie gave it to you.” He tells you simply, truthfully. He clears his throat and stands up, brushing his tweed pants off and adjusting the cufflinks that are too formal for a Saturday afternoon. “Well….I have some calls to make.” He tells you awkwardly. “I’ll leave you to your tea. Enjoy your Mabon, Dolly.”

"Thank you, Max." It has been unexpected to have so many people around you be supportive about your faith, but what is on your mind more is now that you worry you've said too much. You can't tell if he's affected by your reason for not drinking or simply finds you dull or even prim for the decision, but at least he didn't tease you. That counts for a lot.

Max stares at you for a moment before he nods, turning around and walking out of the main door of the morning room, the sound of his dress shoes quickly fading inside the house.

******

It takes an hour standing in front of the armoire in your room before you finally pull out a dress and tights that are great fall colors. Grabbing a sweater is almost an afterthought, but you did make a promise. And promises are meant to be kept, so you shrug a cardigan on over your shoulders and pull on a pair of boots before going into your dressing room. Renee has set up your few pieces of jewelry and grand total of two purses here along with all of the makeup that Derek used to insist that you wear to look ‘normal’. Ultimately you leave the house in minimal makeup with the sweater you promised you would wear, and the warming container full of stew that Mrs. Taylor had brought upstairs to send with you to the potluck. Apparently it had been a favourite when Ms. Brown used to host the coven at Chateau-sur-Mer.

“While Dolly is out, you can have your ‘wine’.” Mrs. Taylor is almost snickering as she sets a goblet of deep red blood in front of Max when he comes strolling into the kitchen. “I keep telling you that one of those tumbler things with a straw would be less conspicuous, but you like to be dramatic.”

“He calls it a bottle,” Eddie rolls his eyes in amusement as he accepts his favourite coffee mug from Mrs. Taylor, also full of blood. “But I think that’s pretty appropriate since he’s being a big baby about it.”

“It’s Gothically classy.” Max huffs, picking up the wine glass and taking a large gulp of the warmed blood. “Besides, someone would end up putting ice in it, ruining it.”

“No one would touch your drink, dear.” Mrs. Taylor assures him without doubt. “But enjoy your Gothically classy wine glass. I don’t expect Dolly will be home very early.”

“No, she’s going to the coven’s thing.” Max shoots the old housekeeper a smirk. “Did you make her the same thing that Cookie would take?”

“Of course I did.” Mrs. Taylor answers, huffing slightly like she’s offended he would even ask. Her homemade sausage and lentil stew was a favourite of the coven’s and she would never have sent anything else. “So you two will have blood sausage with dinner tomorrow.”

“Thank fuck.” Max rolls his eyes happily as he licks his blood red lips. “That will be delicious.”

“Just because a few things will change around here doesn’t mean we aren’t going to take care of you.” Even if that was the kind of women she and Renee were, Mrs. Taylor knows that he wouldn’t stand for it.

“Has anyone heard from the big guy?” Max asks as he looks around the room. “Figured he’d be here today of all days.”

“He was detained on business.” Mrs. Taylor reports, lying very smoothly through her teeth. The one man that everyone in this house reports to had arrived when the rest of the household was otherwise distracted. “I’m sure that when he decides when to reveal himself, we will all be made very aware.”

If Max thought he was dramatic, he had nothing on the man who had sired him. Rolling his eyes, he shrugs. It’s not like the man had come back to magically release him from this house arrest. “I just assumed he would be back here. Since his soulmate loved Mabon.”

“She certainly did.” Wiping her hands on a dishcloth, Mrs. Taylor turns around to face the two men. “And it seems as though not so much will have changed in this house.”

“Talk about weird.” Max snorts. “Wonder why it’s this witch.”

“I’m sure Ms. Brown had her reasons.” Mrs. Taylor’s own penchant for the enigmatic is as well documented as any other member of the family, and Eddie chuckles when the housekeeper simply smiles and moves on to the next chore.

“Alright then,” he huffs in amusement. “Keep your secrets. We’ll find out eventually.”

“Anyway.” Max shakes his head, “I’m going to go get ready.” He tells the group, draining the last of his blood. “See if I can’t go seduce one of the pretty witches who are feeling spunky tonight.” He smirks, winking at Eddie and sailing out of the room whistling the theme song of The Craft movie, Love Spit Love.

******

The warmth from the sun is starting to dissipate by the time you arrive at the sweet little Dutch colonial that Allison shares with her sisters Tracy and Kristin. The family home had been the center of a farm a few hundred years ago, according to what Allison had told you earlier today, but now what they had left was their farmhouse and its small backyard, and they were perfectly happy with that. A half dozen cars are already outside when you park the Corvette, feeling conspicuous but grateful that Mrs. Taylor had sent you with a dish. Alison gave you no hint that it was a potluck.

"You came!" Before you are already out of the car, Allison has opened the door. Greeting you like a dear friend. "Oh - you are our guest," she tuts when she sees you grab the dish out of the passenger seat. "I didn't want you to feel obligated to bring something."

“I couldn’t possibly come empty-handed.” Even though it almost happened, you would have been extremely embarrassed if it had. As it is, you are happy to hand over the dish that Mrs. Taylor so lovingly crafted and packed. “I’m…I’m told it’s an old favourite of the coven,” you murmur, not having told her who you are or where you live when you met earlier today. Why would you? But now it seems essential.

"Oh?" Her curiosity is peaked for all of three seconds until she smells the casserole from the edges of the top. "Oh my god!" She cries. "Is that- that's the sausage and lentils that Cookie Brown would bring?" Her eyes widen and she looks at you with a sense of gratefulness and surprise. "How did you--"

“I—I didn’t know Ms. Brown,” you preface your explanation immediately. “But it seems we were related. And she left me her estate in her will. Mrs. Taylor…she’s amazing. And wouldn’t let me come without bringing this for all of you.”

“Ohhhh bless you both.” She tilts her head in curiosity, wanting to ask if you know about the residents of the mansion, Ms. Brown had confided in the coven about them, but she doesn’t ask you. Figuring she didn’t want to open that can of worms if you didn’t.

“I understand Cookie used to hold events for the coven fairly frequently?” It’s no wonder, being only one person - or three, with Max and Eddie there - and having all that space. “I would be happy to do the same. And I know Mrs. Taylor would be, too.”

She's startled for a moment, amazed that you would offer the space back to the coven if you aren't practicing. "That is very kind." She smiles. "We will have to see about showing you what some of the events at the manor would look like." She giggles. "We had talked for years about having a ball."

“I guess she used to have them all the time. You know…when she was younger?” Following Allison into the farmhouse, the sense of calm and scent of spice in the air reminds you distinctly of the Mabons of your childhood. “My roommates and I…well, they were encouraging me…we were talking yesterday about maybe having a masquerade.”

"That would be a wonderful thing." Allison sets the dish down amongst the others on the table and guides you towards the drink table. "I can imagine it would be a beautiful thing. If you do decide to hold one, please let me know what I could do to help."

“I would love the help, honestly. I have no idea what I’m doing but it sounds so nice.” A large slow cooker of warm, spiced apple cider stands at the ready and you defer to that happily when offered a drink. “But thank you for inviting me tonight. I really…I had no idea there would be witches here when I moved.”

"Our coven isn't quite as publicized as the ones near Salem, but we are well known on the eastern seaboard." She boasts, proud of that fact. "But it's more of a myth than anything else."

“A myth?” People are milling around greeting each other with enthusiastic hugs, so you get the feeling that you might be the only ‘guest’ here tonight. It gives you a slight feeling of needing to cling to Allison, and you eagerly ask for the story if she’s willing to tell it instead of daring to meet more new people just yet.

She smiles softly, her expression turning slightly dreamy. "It's one that you might not believe." She cautions. "But back nearly two hundred years ago, the head of our coven was soulmates with a vampire. Their love changing magic and this area forever."

“But…” Your brow furrows immediately, confusion and incredulity more than anything else — but you also don’t want to sound rude. “Vampires…they don’t exist?”

She tilts her head, shrugging slightly. "Hence why it's a myth." She won't correct you, since you obviously don't know about the residents and staff that are near you every day. "But it's said that the vampire who was her mate was incredibly devoted to her. Not caring that they were historical enemies and proving his love for her was real. His marks matching hers and his heart jumping to life when she was near. Feeding her some of his blood to prolong her life well beyond a mere mortal's existence until she was ready to shuck her mortal coil."

“It sounds terribly romantic.” The spice of the cider in your cup is a welcome sip, making you almost hum in pleasure. “A soulmate to help you live forever sounds…daunting, though. I suppose happiness makes it worthwhile.” Not that you can particularly relate on that front, but you can dream. An eternity with Derek might have been what killed you, not kept you alive.

"It would." Allison agrees, her own cup of cider is curled up to her lips. "I hope that one day I find my soulmate and he's that devoted to me."

“I don’t see how he couldn’t be,” you promise her with a wistful smile. “You’re too sweet to have anything else.”

She hums happily and shrugs. "I don't know, might be horrible to live with." She winks and reaches forward to curl her arm through yours.

Allison leads you out the back door of the kitchen to the small patio just outside where a dozen or so other women have now congregated with their drinks. They have all noticed you at this point but no one has questioned your appearance at all. Allison has a bit of a history of picking up interesting strays and bringing them home.

"So we don't have many male members of the coven." Allison admits. "Few want to admit that they practice, so it's just going to be us ladies tonight."

"The only man I've ever known in a coven was my father." You tell her with a small shrug. "It's a shame that it's still rare."

"Being Wiccan or having a coven is still one of those things that is viewed as feminine in a lot of mindsets." She huffs. "Although Ms. Brown's soulmate always came with her when he was available, even if he wasn't practicing."

"I know it's just because I miss her." A short woman with bright orange, curly hair and wide glasses comes out of the house behind where you and Allison are standing with a confused expression on her face. "But I could have sworn I smelled Cookie's lentil stew coming through the kitchen. Wishful thinking, I guess."

"Actually..." Allison smiles. "Candice....our guest here brought Cookie's lentil stew. She's related to our gal and inherited her house."

"No!" Candice gasps, but her face lights up with excitement. "That's so fantastic! I mean we all miss Cookie so much but I'm so glad to know that her legacy is continuing on."

"She seems like she was a very special woman." There is anxiety in the way you shift your feet, but you smile. "Unfortunately, I didn't know her at all."

“I’m so sorry.” Candice frowns and reaches out to touch your arm. “She was well respected and loved in the coven. If you want us to tell you about her, just ask.”

"I would really like that, actually. My roommates have only told me a little bit so far." Granted it has only been two days, but it's almost like Mrs. Taylor and Renee are afraid to say too much. And if that's true, you have to wonder what they're so afraid of.

“I’ve told her about our coven legend.” Allison tells Candice, knowing the chatty witch would spread the word. “About the witch and the vampire soulmates? She likes the story.”

“I know everybody thinks vampires are folklore,” Candice laughs, waving it off like it’s the silliest thing in the world. “But those are the same people who think magic isn’t real. So I guess ignorance is bliss.”

Allison smiles blandly, eyeing her fellow witch. “Of course.” She hums. “Come on.” She tells you. “Let’s go get you settled.”

The introductions seem endless. Every one is very nice and very glad to hear of the relationship you apparently hold to their old friend. It’s only when Allison’s sisters are giving you a little tour of the house and refreshing your drink that Candice pulls Allison aside. “She doesn’t know, does she?” The older woman asks, chewing on her lip with nerves.

"Not a clue." Allison keeps her eyes on the stairs, making sure that you aren't coming downstairs. "I'm not sure what is going on, but it seems like she has no idea that her 'roommates' are vampires. Or that our legend is real and was her relative."

“Gods.” Candice exhales deeply and shakes her head. “That’s a hell of a secret to keep while she’s in that house.”

"I'm sure there is a reason that it's being kept from her." She murmurs softy. "We just need to make sure that we aren't the ones to tell her."

“We zip our lips and throw away the key,” Candice agrees. “He was always nice enough to us when we met him, but the last thing I want to to make him upset.”

Allison snorts at the understatement of the year. "He did manage to steal from the devil after all." She reminds Candice with a knowing look. "I wouldn't want to upset him either."

“Never.” With another shake of her head, Candice huffs a laugh. “But I like her. She seems sweet.”

"She seems...." Allison flounders for a better word than what springs to mind, but none come to mind. "Broken." She voices, her tone concerned and sad. "Like maybe Newport is a haven for her."

“I would’ve said skittish,” Candice admits, but she smiles softly. “Fate had you stumble into each other’s paths this morning. Now it’s up to us to offer her family. Who knows what’s happened? The best we can do is offer her open arms.” It’s what Cookie would have done, and they all know it. So for her, they will make sure you are safe here.

"We will protect her." Allison agrees. "I will visit Mrs. Taylor tomorrow to see what the plan is for having her in their household."

“Tell her we said hello.” The whole coven loves Cookie’s vampiric housekeeper, but Candice in particular loved all of Mrs. Taylor’s stories about the ‘good old days’ of pre-plague England.

"Of course I will." Allison knows that Mrs. Taylor will insist on sending back some cookies or a cake to the coven of witches who had been regular visitors to the mansion while Cookie had been alive.

“Good.” Candice told her head slightly when she catches sight of you coming downstairs with Tracy. “Lets start the fire up and sit down to eat. This night just got a lot more important.”

The fire is crackling, lighting up the back yard and the logs that have been situated around them in a generous circle. Providing seating that is inviting and natural. All of you drifting out to gather around it after filling your bellies with the food, the lentil stew completely demolished with appreciative groans of happiness.

Prayers and wishes of plenty are shared for the equinox. An opportunity to cleanse before the new year starts is always appreciated, and bay leaves with refreshing wishes written on them are dropped one by one into the fire until everyone sits back again and begins to chat amongst themselves. The night is beautiful, and you hug your sweater around yourself — glad for just a moment that Max had suggested it. The temperature has dropped sharply tonight and you have to wonder if it’s due to being so close to the ocean.

At first, the bat isn’t noticed, sitting on the branch of a tree just outside of the dancing light from the fire. Black, beady eyes taking in the ground and then flapping his wings to take flight, honing in on one particular witch.

Allison had been asking you something animated about living in Nashville when you caught the movement out of the corner of your eye. Black wings blend into the darkness easily, but as the little figure gets closer to the fire you can make it out perfectly. “Gods!” You almost startled but the gasping sound you make it delighted. “You’re real!”

Max squawks as the bat, circling your head twice as the entire coven watches with various expressions of bewilderment at the appearance of the vampire. Everyone knows you don’t know about the feeding habits of your roommates, so why are you familiar with the bat form of one of them? He lands on your shoulder again and ruffles his wings as he folds them up, his face turned towards you expectantly.

“Hey cutie,” you greet the little creature the same way you did last night, deciding to grapple with the fact that you obviously didn’t dream the entire thing later. For now you put you hand up gently and pet the bat’s little head with two fingers. “How’d you find me so far from home, huh?”

Max chirps indignantly and flaps his wings at you. Insulted by the idea that this was far from home.

“Alright, so you’re a very crafty bat, then. I’ll give you that.” Your fingers pet the little creature’s head gently and you smile, instantly more relaxed. “Could’ve sworn bats were supposed to be blind, though. I feel like you’re looking right at me.”

He would roll his eyes at you, but he just nuzzles into your hand and hops up closer to your neck. Feeling the warmth from your body and sensing your pulse. Craving the closeness tonight.

“This little guy flew in my window last night,” you explain to Allison and several other nearby witches who look nothing short of shocked. “I could have sworn I dreamt the whole thing, but look at this. He found me again.”

“That bat?” Allison asks, watching as the larger than normal bat turns his head and she swears he winks at her before nuzzling you.

“Yeah.” The feeling of having the little guy nuzzle into your neck makes you laugh. “Weird, right? I always thought bats stayed away from humans.”

“Some of them are apparently friendly.” Candice snorts, watching as a vampire stake his claim on you. That’s the only thing that it could be. While he had come to plenty of ceremonies, never had he been in any form but his normal self. Where this had to be Max. Cookie had said he was a black bat.

“He let me read to him.” Knowing that it actually happened and wasn’t just a cute little dream basically lights you up inside like a little goth Disney Princess. “Cutest thing in the world.”

The little bat preens, as if he understands what’s being said about him, because he does. Max chirps and stomps his little bat feet on your shoulder.

“You don’t…mind him, right?” Just because you think he’s cute as all hell doesn’t mean the other coven members will, and you raise your eyes to Allison with concern and care. “I wouldn’t bring him in your house. I promise.”

“I think that he will go where he wants.” She tells you diplomatically with a small smile on her face.

“Maybe.” Bats are wild animals, after all. Even as cute as this one is, that doesn’t make it a pet. “I just think he’s sweet.”

The other witches giggle and ‘awww’ over the sight of the bat on your shoulder, all of them aware of his true nature. “Bats are sweet.” Allison agrees with a grin.

“Who knew?” Candice all but giggles. “I always thought bats were a little dickish. Like little winged misogynists.”

Max ruffles his wings, glowering at the witch and huffing, the sound coming out as little squeaks.

“Aww, it’s okay cutie.” The chattering by your ear makes you laugh softly and you pet him again. “You’re just a softie.”

He settles to your touch, cuddling against your hand and deciding that he’s not close enough. The next time you move your hand to pet him, he jumps into your palm.

It earns a wistful sighing noise from a few surprised witches nearby and a giggle from you. “You want cuddles again, don’t you?” Looking back at Allison and Candice, you shrug a little as you cuddle the bat to your chest. “Last night I made him a little nest to sit in my lap while I read.”

Max grins as he burrows into your chest. Unhappy that he’s not skin-to-fur, but at least he’s getting to cuddle into your breasts. Not that he’s trying to be creepy, but you are snuggling him to his favorite part on a woman and you are gorgeous to him.

“That’s super cute.” Candice can barely contain her laughter with the image in front of her, but she sips her cider and smirks. “So how are you getting along with your roommates?” She prompts, keeping her tone light and airy.

“Oh! Um…Okay, I think?” Really, everything about having this little bat with you is oddly comforting, but you do get a faint whiff of something weird like…sunscreen? Maybe? Which is weird but not off putting. You had just never heard that bats smell like sunscreen. “Eddie is really nice. And I don’t…I don’t know Max very well yet.”

Max the bat, coos at you in soft protest. He’s the one that’s spent the most time with out of all of them. Even putting you to bed last night after you had fallen asleep reading to him.

If you had known it was him — had any idea whatsoever — you might have laughed. A stifled giggle if nothing else. But since you have no idea, you just pet the little creature and shrug as Candice asks, “Max hasn’t been nice?”

“I think I’m not what he expected,” you admit with a small frown, thinking of his behavior at dinner the night before. “But he was very nice today. Mrs. Taylor made a beautiful tea tray with some of the cheese I got from Allison today and Max and I shared it.”

“Max shared tea with you?” Candice raises her brow. “It’s rare that Max really socializes. So if he’s spending any time with you, I bet you he’s finding you interesting.”

“Oh…I don’t know about that.” Despite sitting here at a coven gathering with a snuggly bat in your palm and the keys to a mysteriously inherited mansion in your purse, you shrug. “I’m not particularly interesting.”

Max flaps his wings, fluttering and against your chest again. Snuggling his head into your skin against your heartbeat.

“Maybe he thinks you are?” Candice offers, trying very hard not to giggle and give the apparently secret identity of your little friend away.

He doesn’t know why the witches are giggling, no one knows it’s him. Perfectly disguised for the evening to watch over you, since he’s felt the need to see what you are up to.

“Maybe.” Though you shrug, you can’t think why someone as sophisticated and obviously worldly as Max would care. “I suppose new things are interesting for a time.”

Max frowns, unsure why someone as pretty as you would have such a negative outlook. You should be flaunting your health and beauty.

“Sometimes new things stay interesting for a long time,” Allison smiles kindly and pats your knee. “You never know which new things can become old habit.”

______

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VW: @haileymorelikestupid, @miraclesabound

My Masterlist!

[deadlyflames]

Dec 31st: 1910s in NOLA: Lovers in Denial

But even that hardest of hearts unhardened Suddenly, when he saw her there Persephone in her mother’s garden Sun on her shoulders, wind in her hair The smell of the flowers she held in her hand And the pollen that fell from her fingertips And suddenly Hades was only a man with the taste of nectar upon his lips

Klaus Mikaelson has been attempting to bring the four main species of New Orleans together in order to create the Faction. In order to succeed in this endeavour, he needs to broker a peace with the Regent of the nine covens.

However, this plan is endangered when he meets the Regent’s granddaughter in the old witch’s garden and an attraction sparks between the two of them.

Love was when he came to me Begging on his bended knees To please have pity on his heart And let him lay me in the dirt… I felt his arms around me then We didn’t need a wedding bed Dark seeds scattered on the ground The wild birds were flying around

After secretly meeting with the original hybrid in her grandmother’s garden for months, Klaus asks Bonnie to be his wife. She says she won’t become a vampire and he tells her he would never ask that of her. He’s met plenty of witches who can forestall aging process over the years. While she may never be an immortal, he would protect her from anything that may harm her. So moved by his declaration, Bonnie follows him into the darkness.

He fell in love with Persephone Who was gathering flowers in the light of the sun And he took her home to become his queen Where the sun never shone on anyone The lady loved him and the kingdom they shared But without her above, not one flower would grow So, King Hades agreed that for half of each year She would stay with him there in his world down below

After Sheila Bennett discovers that her granddaughter has eloped with an ancient vampire, she falls into despair and the ancestors shake the foundation of the city. Wind, rain, lighting, earthquakes and hurricanes.

When Bonnie sees the destruction her absence has brought, she attempts to return home. But Klaus to refuses to let her leave.

It is only thanks to Elijah that New Orleans manages to survive the litany of disasters. Through a negotiation with the witches, terms were determined for the marriage to continue. Bonnie would go home and live among her people for one half of the year and then stay with Klaus for the other half.

After days of being persuaded by both his brother and his wife, Klaus Mikaelson reluctantly agrees to the terms.

But the other half, she could walk in the sun And the sun in turn, burned twice as bright Which is where the seasons come from And with them, the cycle Of the seed and the sickle And the lives of the people And the birds in their flight

Klaus stood at Bonnie’s side through the entirety of Sheila Bennett’s funeral. Even as witches hiss and glare. He had never gotten along with Sheila, but he had respected her. And he knew Bonnie loved her.

However, he was not allowed to attend the meeting of the witches choosing their new regent. The witches want Bonnie to be their leader. After all, a Bennett has served as regent for the past 100 years.

Bonnie only accepts the responsibility of becoming Regent if the witches agree she can keep her arrangement with Klaus. Bonnie will lives among her coven for six months until the autumn equinox. Then she would return to Klaus and live with him in his compound during the next six months. Until the spring equinox, her friend Vincent Griffith will act as Regent in her stead.

Neither Klaus nor the witches are pleased with this decision.

Hades is king of oil and coal And the riches that flow where the rivers are found But for half of the year with Persephone gone His loneliness moves in him, crude and black He thinks of his wife in the arms of the sun And jealousy fuels him and feeds him and fills him With doubt that she’ll ever come Dread that she’ll never come Doubt that his lover will ever come back

Klaus is certain the witches made their decision to spite him. Sheila was gone and the deal should have been broken. He would no longer need to send his wife away for half the year. Bonnie should have been his alone now. But the witches and the ancestors have ensured that their claws will remain buried deep in her.

When his wife leaves as the season turns, Klaus indulges in blood and mayhem. When his family inquires about his behaviour, he refuses to give voice to the fear that crawls into his mind every time Bonnie leaves. The fear that she may be gone forever this time.

When the sun is high, brother, so am I Drinking dandelion wine Brother, I’m as free as a honeybee In a summertime frame of mind And when my man comes around Oh, I know he’s gonna bring me down But for now I’m livin' it Livin' it, livin' it up

Over the years, the relationship between Bonnie and Klaus becomes strained. He is filled with possessiveness and jealousy each time she leaves him. She is filled with frustration and restlessness when he tries to keep her caged.

Vincent suggests that Bonnie should return to the covens indefinitely. As a Bennett witch and their Regent, she is expected to lead them and to do what is best for the witches.

Bonnie assures him that she is thinking of what is best for the witches. Klaus will fight for her if she never returns and the fragile peace between the factions will crumble. Witches will die and she can’t allow that. If she gives up the leadership to be with Klaus, the ancestors will cause chaos, especially now that her Grams is among them.

Bonnie does not tell him the true reason engrained in her heart that she will always return to Klaus. She does not want to leave him.

How long? Just as long as I am your wife It's true the earth must die But then the earth comes back to life And the sun just goes on rising And how does the sun even fit in the sky? It just burns like a fire in the pit of the sky And the earth is a bird on a spit in the sky How long, how long, how long?

All hail the King and Queen of New Orleans.

Neither wants to admit how much they miss the other. So they are trapped in the cycle of leaving and returning. The cycle of loneliness and love. Until someone brings the world back into tune, that is how it is.

[rebelliousstories]

Celebrate

25 Days of Ficmas

Relationship: Marko x Reader

Fandom: The Lost Boys

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Vampirism

Word Count: 1,585

Masterlist: Here

The Lost Boys Masterlist: Here

Summary: If anyone can convince the boys to put in a little effort for the holiday, surely it’s Marko?

Marko was the more oriented of the blonde terror twins. Opposed to Paul, he could focus on one thing for a while without needed other stimuli. His jacket was evidence of that. A testament to his unwavering dedication to his art. So when he meets someone at the boardwalk with an equally detailed, somewhat chaotic, and colorful jacket, he just has to meet them. Which is what led him to her. They bonded over one night with their shared love for patches and any other form of art. What started off as a means to get a meal, turned in to a blossoming friendship, which led to a beautiful and meaningful relationship. With this love for art, came a love for holidays and decorating. Marko shared her love for al things festive and would help her decorate; New Year’s, Halloween, Valentine’s Day, Summer Solstice, Spring and Fall Equinoxes, and Christmas, and the Winter Solstice. But when she moved in to the cave to be closer to Marko, there were certainly some hesitation for her love of decorating.

Namely, David. He did not mind her, but the love for decorating he could do without. However, this did little to discourage her as she made her way around, finding new places to hang tinsel and garland. She had already scooped out a place to put up a tree. But it seemed Marko was the only one on board with her decorating. They took to the boardwalk one night to find some last minute decorations for the cave.

“Hey Marky,” she asked, looking at an ornament. The vampire came up and rested his hands on her waist, and head on her shoulder. He hummed in acknowledgment before pressing light kisses to her neck.

“Do you think the boys would wanna help with the decorations? I know Laddie we can get on board but, like, Dwayne, and Paul, and David. Do you think we could convince them?” Turning in Marko’s arms, he ceased his attack on her neck. She looked up at her lover with a hopeful expression. He thought about it for a minute.

“We can try. Might have to be a tag team effort but, I’m sure we can convince at least some of them.” It was not the best answer, but it was the best she had for the time being. After having a good day’s sleep, the couple woke the following evening to put their plan into motion.

Operation: Celebration and Decorations

~

Paul was fairly easy to convince. He loved the chance to have a good time, and usually followed plans when they were given to him.

“Hey Paul?” Marko called out, pulling on his boots one evening after they woke up. The other blonde looked over towards the cherub with wide eyes as he was stuck in between getting into his jacket, and then rolling a blunt.

“Wanna help me and love decorate the front of the cave for Christmas?” He stood up and took the blunt from the other vampire so he could finish getting dressed. Paul shrugged his shoulders that the jacket now covered. He took back the blunt from Marko with a, “sure dude!” One down, two to go.

~

Dwayne was a little harder. He was a rule follower when he wanted to be, and that was apparently now.

“Dwayne?” She came up to the vampire as he waited for Star and Laddie to show up at the boardwalk to go home. He turned to her without saying a word, just raised an eyebrow.

“Will you help Marko, Paul, Laddie, Star and I decorate the cave for Christmas?” Her request was said so sweetly that Dwayne almost gave in. And with the added bonus of doing it with and for Laddie, he almost said yes. But Dwayne called out her name, dragging it out.

“You remember what David said. He doesn’t want the cave all glittered up.” He dragged the woman back so she was looking at him. She knew he was serious but so was she.

“We’re not gonna use glitter. Besides, it’s Laddie’s first Christmas. Please, Dwayne?” The woman turned on the puppy dog eyes, and watched as Dwayne thought it over in his head. Silence stretched long enough that she had considered using another angle to get him to say yes.

“Alright. For Laddie.” Her squeal of delight pulled a small chuckle out of the vampire in front of her before she hoped on the back of Marko’s bike to await his return.

Only one left.

~

“No.”

“Come on, David!” Marko begged, watching David walk away from him.

“Marko, no. I will tolerate your human. I will even accept the fact that you are putting up decorations for Christmas. But I will not be any part of it.” He continued to walk away from his vampire brother, wanting the conversation to end desperately.

“David, just, please! Will you stop for a second and listen!” Marko surged forward and grabbed the bleach blonde vampire by the arm. Said vampire turned swiftly and yanked his arm from Marko’s grasp. The pair stood there for a minute as David stared down the cherubic boy in front of him.

“I know you don’t like Christmas and celebrating, David. But she does. This is important to her. Plus, Laddie is really looking forward to celebrating. You’re not going to let Laddie down now right?” It was a dirty trick, but Marko knew that David held a secret soft spot for the young boy. A noise brought the vampires attention to the front of the cave.

Dwayne had Laddie on his shoulders while the young vampire threw tinsel around one of the ledges in the cave. Paul was blasting music on their boombox while Star stayed near Dwayne spotting Laddie. The other girl in the cave was busy sorting out the ornaments for the tree that was going to go in the cave tomorrow night when they could go get it. It was genuinely wonderful to see everyone in the cave laughing and having a good time. Without looking at Marko, David spoke.

“Fine. One thing. I’m only doing one thing and that’s it.” David continued to walk away from Marko, who did not follow him this time. The bleach blonde vampire sat wordlessly in his wheelchair and simply watched everyone for the time being.

Okay. Now they had everyone on board. Time to get this show on the road.

~

The following evening, everyone was busy decking out the cave. Star was working with Paul to throw the garland around the tree, which was somewhat working. It mostly succeeded because of Star, but she did get plenty of giggles out of watching Paul try his best. Laddie and Dwayne were wrapping Paul’s presents because if they did it any sooner than tonight, he would have torn into them already. Plus, he was distracted, giving them plenty of time to get it done. Marko and his lover were placing stocking all around the fountain, and putting more tinsel around as well. And David sat in his chair, smoking a cigarette.

By the time David had finished his third cigarette, the only thing left were the ornaments for the tree. Everyone gathered around and picked up an ornament each to start placing on the tree.

“David, come on!” He heard Marko’s girlfriend exclaim from the other side of the cave. Sighing, he pushed the fourth unlit cigarette behind his ear and stood. David made his way over to the group and reluctantly snatched an ornament just like the rest of them. Laddie got up on Dwayne’s shoulders to place ornaments near the top, while Paul held up a box of the colorful decorations for the both of them to choose from. Soon enough, all the ornaments had been placed on the tree. It truly looked like the kind of thing out of a Christmas Hallmark film, except it was missing the topper. Marko left, but returned quickly, this time with a new box. A crystallized, star tree topper awaited them. All of them, except David who had already turned to leave again, but a hand on his arm stopped him. Turning his head, he caught the eyes of Marko’s love.

“I did my one Christmas decoration thing. I’m done.” He said with a voice devoid of emotion.

“Will you put the topper on?” She requested, with a sweet voice. But David stood strong.

“Have Laddie do it. He’s already up that high anyways.” David shrugged off her hand with a grumble.

“The tree topper is usually reserved for the head of the family, David.” Dwayne inserted quietly. By now, everyone was staring at the vampire with his back still turned. The look on Dwayne’s face was unreadable, but David knew. He knew that he would not have told him that information unless it was true. Letting his eyes rake over the faces of everyone else, David saw the same look in their eyes. With a sigh, he turned back and got the star topper out of the box. Looking at the top, David flew up to be level with the top of the tree, and ever so gently, lowered the topper down. When he returned to the ground, no one could peel their eyes from the tree, including him. It was just what they needed to complete the magnificent work of art. Marko wrapped his arm around David’s shoulders, and released him with a comforting squeeze. Maybe celebrating Christmas was not as bad as he thought.

[jinxhallows]

𝐔𝐧𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 .

━━━━━━━━

☾ -- ᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴏғ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛs

prologue | chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six | chapter seven | chapter eight | chapter nine | chapter ten | chapter eleven | chapter twelve | chapter lucky thirteen | chapter fourteen | chapter fifteen | chapter sixteen ((you are here)) |

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ᴍʏ ᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴏᴜs ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ -- @sikebishes @hamburgers101 @felix-housewife @agnes-king @exfolitae @brojustfknkillm3 @skzswife @just-randomm-stuff @thunderous-wolf @3rachasninja @katsukis1wife @hanjingin

☾ -- ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ɢᴇᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ? ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ ʜᴇʀᴇ

━━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━━

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ sɪxᴛᴇᴇɴ | ᴡᴄ: 𝟽.𝟶ᴋ

━━━━━━━━

"This is my sister."

The words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of revelation and disbelief.

"Wait, what?" Chan is the first to react. He shoots up from his seat, his eyes darting between Lyra and you, disbelief etched across his features. He begins to pace around Lyra, as if inspecting her for any signs of deception.

Hyunjin, never one to waste time, swiftly moves to restrain her. His fingers curl around her throat, and panic wells up within you. Instinctively, you rush to her defense, your heart pounding in your chest, but then, something in Hyunjin's gaze stops you. He holds out his other arm behind him, a silent plea in his eyes, asking you for permission to continue, to trust him.

In that charged moment, you realize that Hyunjin, despite his cold exterior, is not driven by blind impulse. He is asking for your trust, your faith in his judgment. The room seems to freeze around us as emotions swirl in the air like a turbulent storm.

—

“You’re soaked.” You chuckle, “What did you guys do?” 

“I can’t tell you that, it’s a secret, like between siblings.” Hyunjin chuckles, amused by your curiosity.  “Do you have any siblings, pretty witch?” 

“I did…but we were separated when my parents were killed.” 

–

You take a hesitant step back, your nervousness evident in the gulp that you can't suppress. Felix approaches Lyra from the other side, his brow furrowing with a mix of confusion and wonder. He tilts his head as if studying her as if she were an alien, a species he had never observed this closely before.

"How do we know this isn't a trick? A demon could pull something like this off," Jisung finally voices his doubts. While the brothers react more on instinct, their inner circle threatened by this unexpected reunion, he chooses to articulate his concerns. After all, these people were your siblings in all but blood, and this stranger's sudden appearance raised questions of authenticity.

"This is definitely a wolf, that much I'm sure of," Hyunjin's lips twitch, his fangs momentarily exposed.

"Of course, I'm a wolf, you dead piece of shit," Lyra retorts, her voice strangled as Hyunjin's grip tightens. Yet, Felix's hand gently rests on his forearm, urging him to soften it a little. Hyunjin complies, his shoulders relaxing, but he maintains his guard.

“Your parents were killed by hybrids, out in the woods by Lake Carter, yeah?” Felix's tone remains serious.

Lyra blinks a few times, struggling to find her voice. Instead, she offers a slow nod, her chest heaving with increased effort. Felix steps back, shaking his head as he studies her from head to toe.

"The rogues that broke off from the Equinox clan to become hybrids and feed on vampires," Felix's mind races as realization dawns on him. "You were bitten that night..."

"Wh-what?" You stammer, "Nana said you were at your friend's house that night!"

"I was," Lyra admits, her voice soft and trembling. "Raina, she lived across the lake from the vacation house. They thought it would be easier than leaving all three of us with Nana."

Chan walks up to stand alongside Hyunjin, gently nudging his younger brother while nodding toward their captive wolf. Hyunjin reluctantly releases her, allowing her feet to fully touch the ground. She rubs her neck, taking in a deep breath, and then turns her gaze toward Chan, Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix, and you.

"I don't understand..." You speak up.

"Raina and I liked to have adventures. We were young, naive, stupid," Lyra begins, her voice carrying a hint of regret. "Nana told us about what was out there, but we lived in the city. We barely saw any of that. We were curious, I guess, and went out looking for adventure..."

"And you found it, in the form of being bitten by a rogue wolf under a full moon. So why come back to stay with the clan?"

“Cause I brought her in.” Leo's voice reverberates through the room, drawing the attention of everyone present. He stands at the foot of the stairs, arms crossed and his expression stern. "Whether she liked it or not, she was a wolf, and a part of our clan. She would've died out there, alone, if the pack hadn't found her. Now, come on, Lyra, we've got to prepare dinner." He gestures for her to follow him, and he hobbles up the stairs. She ducks her head and follows closely behind, and the hatch slowly closes, enveloping them in dimly lit darkness once more in the windowless basement.

"Felix, you just weren't going to tell me, tell any of us, that the Equinox clan are the ones that fucking killed Mariela and physically traumatized you?!" Your voice quivers with a torrent of emotions as you take a few steps toward the white-haired vampire. He watches you, his expression stoic, blank, and unmoved. It's unsettling when Felix is like this; it makes you feel like you're on the outside. He's carefully considering what to say, what he can say.

"You told Mother, you told us that you didn't know the name of the clan, that they kidnapped you, brother," Chan reminds Felix. He, too, begins to question the details of the story he was told so long ago. He vividly remembers risking his own life to let out their cattle, being the one to stand up for his brother who held this secret for centuries.

Every family has its secrets, but why lie about something like this?

"Because had I told our mother and father, they would've died chasing down the vengeance I wanted for myself," Felix finally snaps. His voice quivers, and he's literally shaking. "I waited years and years, I killed every Equinox rogue I found until I found them, that night..." His voice trembles on the fringes of insanity as he explains, "And I listened to them choke while I chewed on their windpipes, and to this day, I will never taste a revenge so sweet."

The room falls silent. Felix, realizing he's on the precipice of emotions he'd rather not face, turns away from everyone. He walks over to his sleeping bag, wordlessly picks up his book, and begins reading it again as a form of distraction. Nobody sensitive to the approaching Dawn could leave the basement; right now, the sun was either up or close to it.

"Okay, so now I can't sleep," Jisung says, sitting cross-legged on his sleeping bag.

"Take off your necklace; you'll be out in no time," Hyunjin comments, slinking into his sleeping bag and lying on his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows as he speaks.

"Not true. When I take it off, I actually get less sleep. It's like an ancestral chatroom in here every time I close my eyes without the thing."

Hyunjin squints in confusion. "A what room?"

Jisung delves into an elaborate metaphorical explanation, leaving you deep in thought. Chan notices your distant expression and pulls you aside, his features etched with concern. "Hey, are you alright?"

You let out a sigh, finally releasing the tension that had been building within you. "Yeah, I just... I'm in shock, you know? I hoped my siblings were out there, but now... I just have so many questions, and not nearly enough time to ask them."

"This is a really big deal, and if you need us to stay another day, little witch, we can make that happen."

You look down, your fingers absentmindedly rubbing your arm as you consider the idea of delaying the journey. "I don't know what I want."

Chan empathizes with you, his thumb gently stroking your cheekbone. "Don't you think she should know she's going to be an aunt?" He offers you a small smile, and it prompts a bittersweet chuckle from you. A couple of tears escape your eyes, which you quickly try to wipe away. "Aww, my little witch, and my even littler witch," he coos with a hint of sadness, pulling you into a tight hug. When he releases you, he gazes into your eyes, his hands resting firmly on your shoulders. "Go on, I'll be here when you get back. I won't even go into my death, I promise."

His gentle encouragement is enough to persuade you to ascend the stairs. You carefully open the hatch just enough to slip out and then close it tightly to keep the others below in darkness. Chan remains at the stairs, looking up at the sealed door, pondering how drastically life keeps taking sharp, unexpected turns. He always knew to expect the unexpected, but at this rate, he's left wondering who's going to show up next? What's going to happen next?

"Do you believe that story?" Hyunjin's voice cuts through Chan's thoughts. The eldest sibling descends the stairs and goes over to his own sleeping bag, sitting atop it, lost in thought. He glances at Felix, who has already succumbed to his daytime death, his body stiff and cold within his sleeping bag.

"I'm really not sure, Hyunjin," Chan admits. "I know just about as much as the little witch, apparently."

"Who knew Felix had that much anger in that little body?" Hyunjin chuckles, shaking his hair out of his face as he adjusts himself to lie on his back, hands crossed over his chest as he stares at the ceiling.

"Yeah, who knew..." Chan murmurs, tracing invisible patterns in the dirt floor pensively.

━━━━━━━━

You stand in the center of the room, feeling oddly out of place as the pack congregates in hushed conversations. When you emerged from the basement, a few of them left, their curiosity or distrust leading them elsewhere. Among the wolves present, Lyra, Leo, and two others remain. Lyra's gaze falls upon you, a mixture of concern and hesitation shimmering in her eyes. She doesn't know what to expect from you; you share blood, but you're practically strangers now. Would you side with the fiery red-haired vampire and his suspicions? There are others in the room, too, and their identities and your purpose in traveling to Abysmora are shrouded in mystery.

"Y/N, what have you gotten yourself into?" Lyra voices her thoughts aloud, partially by accident, as you approach her. Leo regards you suspiciously but remains silent, sitting across the table from Lyra, granting you privacy for the impending interaction. Her voice quivers with emotion as she rises to embrace you once more. You laugh, tears of happiness now streaming down your face as you hug her tightly. Leo quietly excuses himself, leading the other two wolves outside, leaving you two alone.

"Hold on..." Lyra takes a step back, her hands gently cupping the firm roundness of your tummy through your tight embrace. Her eyes reflect those of your mother, and you wonder if others can see the same resemblance in your eyes. "Are you pregnant?"

You cast your gaze downward at your belly, still coming to terms with the surprise yourself. You cradle your hands around your rounded bump. "I guess I am," you admit, your nerves palpable.

"You guess?" Lyra's voice carries a mixture of surprise and amusement. "I knew I smelled something, but I couldn't place it. It didn't make sense."

You pull a face. "You can smell it? Like, my body?"

Lyra laughs softly, her eyes dancing with newfound knowledge. "Your scent changes when you're pregnant, subtle shifts in your pheromones. I can smell things like that now," she says, tapping her nose with confidence. You both share a lighthearted giggle as she reaches across the table, enveloping your hands in hers. "There's so much I want to say, I just don't know where to start," Lyra admits, her gaze sweeping around the room as if seeking guidance. Finally, she looks up at you and asks, "Why are you going to Abysmora?"

With a deep breath, you begin to recount your journey, revealing the complex web of events that led you to this moment. Lyra listens with unwavering attention, her eyes widening with each revelation.

"So, we have one more stop before we get to Abysmora," you conclude. "Santiago told us the pack would lead us across the territory to the next drop-off point. I just never expected it to be you."

Lyra exhales deeply, a whirlwind of thoughts racing through her mind.

"I don't know about the others, but that redhead... I don't like him."

You chuckle, sinking back into your chair as you feel the tension dissipating. "I didn't like Hyunjin at first either. But can you blame him? He was in purgatory for almost a thousand years. When you win his trust, he's loyal, and actually really funny sometimes, too."

"I smelled another wolf, but there was so much vampire funk I could barely make it out. So he's the one that's the father, huh? The wolf vampire one?" Lyra's still in the process of piecing things together, her mind tracing back to the basement.

"Yes, his name is Chris, but some of us call him Chan. That's his Korean name," you respond, leaning forward and lowering your voice. "And he can hear very, very well, and he's still awake downstairs."

Lyra matches your hushed tone, leaning in closer. "If you're having his child, that makes me the aunt, and we're family now, so I don't give a damn what he hears." She nods with an exaggerated smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling. You playfully swat at her, her sharp tongue and attitude mirroring your own.

She deftly dodges your playful assault with a hearty laugh. "My goodness, Y/N, the life you've been living! It's something right out of a storybook..." Her voice trails off as she recalls the earlier encounter. "The white-haired vampire, what's his name again?"

"Felix."

"Yeah, him." You sense Lyra's mood shifting toward concern. "How did he know about...you know..." She can't bring herself to utter the words aloud.

You realize you've given her the general outline of what's transpired, but the gritty details and conversations have yet to be revealed. Some of them, you've decided, you'll intentionally keep to yourself.

After all, every family has its secrets.

"A long time ago, Felix was just a regular human witch," you begin, "and when he was younger, he fell in love with the daughter of some cult leader, a faction of your clan that broke off to become hybrids. I don't know the politics of it. They wanted to arrange a union, forced their mark on him, he escaped, and they murdered the daughter as a sacrifice to appease their twisted fucking god."

Lyra's eyes widen in horror. "Oh my goodness, they killed their own daughter?"

"You're part of this clan, and you didn't know?"

"I mean, I knew about the massacre of the Equinox by the hybrids, but I didn't know... What does that have to do with our parents?"

"Felix never got over it. He hunted them down and found them at Lake Carter, after they'd murdered a couple in a cabin, our parents.  He killed them, and pretty fucking viciously, but it was too late."

Lyra can hardly believe what you're revealing. She's transported back to that dreadful night, when she and Raina were wandering through the woods with their flashlights, the screams of their parents and the haunting howls breaking the silence of the night. She remembers running as fast as her legs could carry her, the terror gnawing at her heels, as if something was nipping at the straps of her backpack.

Her heart races, and she rises to her feet, clutching her chest with her hand.

"What's wrong?"

"I just...I need a moment. Information overload, you know?" She chuckles nervously, backing away and holding her head, as if experiencing sudden pain. Lyra turns away and hurries into a nearby room, closing the door behind her, which you hear lock shortly thereafter. The sound of running water from the sink reaches your ears as you cautiously approach the door, slowly.

Did you mess it all up? You had to tell her the truth, she deserved to know, didn’t she?

You tap your knuckles gently against the door.

"Yeah?" Lyra answers, her voice muffled as if her nose is stuffed, and the sound of running water comes to a halt.

You lean your temple against the wooden door, your knuckles resting against the wood. "I'm gonna get some rest. Pregnancy, it…takes a lot out of me," you say, your gaze drifting down to your growing belly. You twist your foot back and forth, a nervous habit, as you wait for her reply.

You straighten up as you hear the lock unlatch, and the door opens. Lyra's eyes are reddened, and the tip of her caramel brown nose appears irritated. She sniffs, stepping forward to envelop you in another embrace.

"I love you so much. I'm so glad we found each other again. I'm sorry; this is just a lot. Can we talk more tonight, after we both get some rest?" She steps back and looks into your eyes, her hands on your shoulders. You can feel your own emotions welling up again as you nod, and she pulls you into a tight hug.

After exchanging goodnight wishes, you return downstairs to the basement. Sure enough, everybody lies still, but Chan is sitting cross-legged on his sleeping bag, reading the cursebook that Felix had been so invested in. A source of immediate comfort, you scurry over to him, picking up the pace to cross the distance a little faster. You sit down and wrap your arms around his waist, laying your head on his shoulder as you hug him tightly.

He chuckles and closes the book, setting it down before wrapping his arms around you in return, holding you close, his head resting atop yours. "Well then, you seem chipper, how did it go?" 

You sit up and look at him, “I think it went really well, but it was a lot for her, I could tell she had a ton of questions, but for some reason when we got to talking about our parents and Felix she got really worked up and left for the bathroom.”

“Hm,” Chan muses, “Did she know they were killed?”

You hesitate, “I don’t see how she couldn’t, she was there, in the woods, that’s how she got turned.”

“Maybe it makes her anxious? That’s pretty traumatic, and then finding out you’ve just met the guy responsible for killing the murderers? And he’s a vampire…travelling with your sister, that you haven’t seen in over a decade…” He motions that he could continue on and on, “D’you know what I mean? If I were a mortal, I’d be wrecked by that for a little while too.”

The corner of your mouth pulls your lips into a tight line, “But she’s a wolf?”

“And yet wolves are still mortals,” Chan says with a sad expression, “They grow old, and they die.”

You readjust yourself to sit shoulder to shoulder beside him as you watch Felix’s slumbering figure.  “Can I ask you something absolutely fucking ridiculous?”

He laughs, “And how do I answer you when you ask me that?”

“Oh right,”

“Always.” You two say simultaneously, sharing quiet laughter like close friends before the silence prompts you to actually ask your question.

“At the vampire den…why did you pick Felix instead of Hyunjin?”

Chan is quiet. You two hadn’t had a chance to talk about it since it happened, and with everything else going on, it just didn’t feel right to bring it up before.

“Well,” Chan starts, “For starters, I trust Felix to not murder you, or at least give me a little warning if he’s about to fall off the deep end.”

You nod in understanding, following along.

“Also, I know you two have become very close friends, you trust him too, I mean, would you have chosen Hyunjin instead?” He’s also watching his brother’s lifeless body across the room from where you two were.

“Absolutely not.” You say, which causes him to laugh.

“Right, that’s the logic I went with.”

There’s a bit of a pause between you both before he speaks up. “Why do you ask?”

You watch your words carefully; the last thing you want to do is trigger your hybrid into believing he’s some unnatural monster.

“I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t weird for you.” You say.

“Nope, was it weird for you?”

“No,” you laugh, “And that’s what’s weird because by the laws of humans, it should be weird.”

“By the laws of humans, you shouldn’t have come back from the dead,” he looks at you, a twinkle in his eyes, “My, isn’t it beautiful how we don’t have to go by them anymore?” He pinches halfway down one of your springy, black curls and pulls it up gently, letting it go and watching it bounce back into its natural coil. His eyes fall onto yours.

“Felix and I spoke afterward, don’t worry. He doesn’t think it was weird either.”

You know you won’t be involved anymore, but you still want to ask, you’re curious, and a little jealous, so you squeak, “How often do you guys like…go into those kinds of places?”

Chan can tell where you’re headed, “Well, my brothers and I don’t really indulge in those vampire dens anymore. Talking about hundreds, and I mean hundreds of years back, back when Hyunjin was around, we did it often. We were so driven by bloodlust, it was natural to just pass feeders back and forth, some of them barely hanging on to life.” He explains, “The more we mixed with humans, the less we gave in to those primal urges, until we learned to ignore them altogether.”

“But those urges are primal, right? They gotta be still lurking somewhere.”

Chan takes a moment to ponder, then shakes his head, “The need to feed communally doesn't really appeal to me these days. I don’t just ignore it; I flat out despise it. After I came back around that night, all I could think about was that pile of bodies Hyunjin had accumulated in such a short time.”

“Yeah, he’s a real... unique character,” you say, your gaze drifting over to the other lifeless body in a sleeping bag a few feet away from Felix’s. “But he’s trying, I can tell.”

“Yeah? You think so?” Chan says, impressed.

“Yeah, don’t you?”

“I can see it, I just don’t think he does. Hyunjin doesn’t give himself enough credit for the hard work, even before purgatory. Now, he’s had to dive deep into his darker side just to survive in purgatory; he's convinced that's all he is.” Chan says, “I'm genuinely worried about him.”

“Why’s that?”

“I dunno,” Chan says, narrowing his eyes, “I just have this feeling he'd sacrifice himself, just to end it all, but only if it meant the rest of us were safe.” He continues, “But Hyunjin doesn’t want you to know that, so the only way to catch him is to act like you don’t give a damn about what he’s up to. The moment he senses you’re watching him, bam,” Chan snaps his fingers, “He’ll flip the switch.”

“Won’t he hear you?”

Chan glances at you, a slight dimple forming on his cheek as his lips curl into a half-grin. “It's easy to forget you’re new to this,” he says, your innocence warming him in a way he’s not used to, deep in his gut. Chan feels an undeniable closeness to you right now. “They’re completely out of it right now. When they wake up, I’ll feel it—hard to explain, sort of like that feeling when you know you're not alone in a room? You sense another presence?”

“Yeah, I've felt that, even without conjure.”

“It’s kinda like that, but I don’t have to be in the same room to feel it,” Chan claps his hands together, and Jisung grumbles in his sleep, readjusting himself and turning over, pulling his sleeping bag further over his head. You stifle your giggle by clasping your hands over your mouth, and Chan joins you in a quiet chuckle, his hand covering his mouth too. He lowers his voice to a near whisper, “They can’t hear or feel anything right now. But their supernatural senses are razor-sharp, and they can spring to action in an instant if they sense danger. It’s a truly fascinating phenomenon.”

“And you? Are you the same? You always wake up when I’m having nightmares.”

“That’s because you’ve had so much of my blood, and I’ve had so much of yours, that I’m attuned to your body. I can feel when you feel fear, anger, or sadness. I’d say the more subtle emotions are harder to pinpoint, but my wolf goes dormant when I’m in my death.”

“Dormant? How?”

“My body relies on my vampire senses when I’m in my death. Even better, I can’t be sniffed out, making it harder to track me down.”

You yawn, and Chan shifts over, unzipping your sleeping bag that lies next to his. “Someone’s getting a bit sleepy,” he teases.

You groan, “I don’t wanna go to sleep, this is the first time in forever that we’ve been able to just enjoy each other.”

Chan laughs at your stubbornness.

I don’t want this night to end either, little witch.

He taps the sleeping bag, encouraging you to lie down. “I’ll even stay up and sing to you until you fall asleep. How’s that sound, baby girl?”

You turn to mush at the nickname and promptly settle into your sleeping bag, snuggling up and resting your head on your hybrid’s lap. He reclines on his arm, his other fingers gently stretching and releasing each curl of your hair, totally absorbed in the soothing rhythm of your heartbeat and the baby's in tandem.

Your eyes flutter open, and you look up at him with a quizzical expression. “You said you’d sing to me.”

Chan laughs, “My apologies! I got a little… sidetracked,” he grins, “Any song requests?”

“My Nana used to sing me to sleep every night. She would sing ‘Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire’.”

He chuckles at the uniqueness of your request. “But it's October?”

“She sang it no matter the time of year,” you shrug, nestling even more snugly into his lap, “I don't know, something about it always made me feel safe.”

Chan massages your thick curls with the pads of his fingers, and you feel like a content lap puppy. The sensation is utterly calming.

“Chestnuts roasting on an open fire it is, then.”

━━━━━━━━

Felix regains consciousness first, as was often the case. The world and his place in it gradually return to him, and he slowly sits up, his senses reacquainting themselves with his surroundings—the scents in the air, the presence of people nearby. He spots the open hatch and, while he doesn't hear voices, the crackling of the fireplace upstairs reaches his ears. Quietly, he peels the sleeping bag off his lower half and vamp-speeds to the top of the stairs, cautiously poking his head up and around to survey the area before emerging fully.

The Equinox clan markings on the walls surround him, telling stories he couldn't decipher but carrying imagery that reverberates like a haunting echo from the past. He slips into the bathroom to freshen up for the evening, and his thoughts drift to his youth with Mariela.

Oh, to be that young and carefree again. The innocence of love experienced for the first time. Young love, untouched by the complexities of adulthood that rewires the mind. Devoid of the enigma that comes with living through centuries. To be able to run through fields of tall, wild grass in the sweltering summer heat, with the sun blazing in the sky above, each speckle on his face another memory of happier times basking in the sun.

Felix can appreciate that; the knowledge that his cherished summer moments will be etched onto his body for eternity.

He exits the bathroom, only to bump into Lyra, who seems to be heading in without checking if it's occupied. They stand face to face, speechless.

“You're Felix,” Lyra says, catching the silver-haired vampire off guard.

He doesn't show it.

“I am,” he replies, his voice resonating with profound depth.

“Thank you,” Lyra blurts out impulsively. She can barely hold eye contact with him. The way he regards her as if she's a peculiar rarity, with his head slightly tilted and his eyes scrutinizing her features. “For—you know—”

“Killing the murderers of your parents?” Felix vocalizes. He senses her discomfort at the mention of it. He doesn't want to upset her, but at the same time, he can't help but wonder if she might have been sent here, planted by Edith or one of her devout followers. It's too uncanny a coincidence for the little witch's sister to suddenly appear on their path to Abysmora, especially after the attempt on their lives at Lysandra's safehouse. “I didn't do it for you,” he admits, “But you're welcome.”

“Then why did you do it?”

The question halts Felix's departure. Lyra's expression is one of determination. Despite the underlying fear he still senses in her and the rapid rise of her pulse the longer he looks at her, she has a fire reminiscent of you, yet somehow distinct. Your fire is explosive and consuming, while hers feels like a slow burn, one that traps you when you least expect it, thinking it's safe to let your guard down.

“That's not really your concern,” Felix responds.

“I heard you were a witch,” Lyra tries once more to draw him into sharing more information, seeking closure for a chapter of her life that has always eluded her. “What changed?”

Felix shoots her a sidelong glance, now genuinely irritated. “You were once a witch, weren't you? Vampires can't perform conjure.”

“I'm still a witch, excuse you.”

Now she has his undivided attention. Felix tilts his head, perplexed. “That's impossible.”

“Says who?”

“Says the laws of bloody supernatural nature. Witch blood is nullified, except in specific cases like demons.” He explains, reciting from years of meticulous research.

“You're not only wrong, you're passionately wrong,” Lyra chuckles. “Where there's a will, there's a way.”

“Stop talking in circles, will you?” Felix says, briefly breaking his stoicism. He regains his composure swiftly. “How are you able to conjure as a wolf?”

“Any creature born to a witch parent has magic, but depending on your lineage, you might need to awaken it,” Lyra explains. “And it's not a matter of splashing cold water on your face; you have to sacrifice yourself and spend four seasons buried underground.”

Felix shakes his head. “I don't understand, sacrifice myself?”

“I just had to slit my throat, but you... you'll have to stab yourself through the heart with a wooden stake. You vampires are tougher to put an end to than we are, unfortunately.”

“You're mad, you're telling me to commit suicide. No vampire has been staked and lived to talk about it. Besides, just because it worked for you doesn't mean it'll work for me.” The idea sounds absurd, but Felix is definitely going to thoroughly investigate it.

Damn it, I don't have anything out here except that cursebook.

For now, he's stuck relying on Lyra's information. It's the first time he's heard of such a thing, and he doesn't need to attempt it to learn more.

“It worked for someone I knew a long time ago, a hybrid. He had to rip out his own heart from his chest. He was dead; I put him in the ground myself and covered his body. The next autumn, he came back, his clothes chewed through by insects. I wouldn't have believed it either if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes.”

Lyra has just become significantly more intriguing, and capturing Felix's attention can be a perilous gift. On one hand, you're on the receiving end of his unwavering focus, but on the other, you also become the object of his obsession when he veers into the realm of neuroticism.

“A hybrid?”

“Vampire and wolf. His father was a witch; the blood was in his veins—he just hadn't awakened it yet.”

Felix looks down, contemplating whether or not to allow the conversation to continue. Finally, he looks back up at Lyra, his eyes fixating on her neck. Something dawns on him. He can hear the blood, but it's not overpowering his thoughts. He's been standing here for a while now, and that insistent craving to devour... it's something he keeps restrained, but it's not even there. His thoughts are his own, clear and calculated, not the result of a blood demon whispering in his ear, coaxing him to kill.

It's almost... peaceful.

The thought of drinking her blood is actually somewhat repulsive, to be frank. He has tasted wolf blood when tearing through their bodies to murder them, and it was always bitter and pungent, like licking the floor of a barn. However, blood from a living mortal is blood from a living mortal, and in a pinch, it can suffice.

“Hey, bloodsucker,” Lyra snaps, “Eyes are up here, got it? You won't be taking any bites out of me.”

Felix's upper lip twitches. “I don't really want to,” he says slowly.

“Good. That makes two of us.”

━━━━━━━━

“So, how does it feel to be reunited with your sister, pretty witch?” Hyunjin inquires, shifting his weight from foot to foot and flicking his cigarette. His arms are crossed over his chest, and his hoodie is zipped up, the hood concealing his head. Two tufts of red hair at his bangs graze over his eyebrows.

His hair is getting longer.

And still, unrelentingly, the brightest of reds.

The others are in the process of packing everything, with Chan supervising, unloading some items to be left behind as their journey nears its culmination. They will need to rely more on their physical strength than on fully loaded backpacks. Chan follows Jisung outside onto the porch, and they both start sorting through the backpacks on the ground.

You and Hyunjin stand by where the trees demarcate the edge of the forest, their leaves barely brushing against the moonlight.

“It feels really good, but also really strange. What happens from here? I’m not making this trip just to see her again; we almost died—like—a few times.”

“If the pack's been up here as long as they say, she knows her way around.”

“So, what? She risks her life every time we have an annual visit?”

“You do that sometimes,” Hyunjin acknowledges with a nod as he takes another hit, “with family, especially in our world.”

Chan's earlier concerns echo in your mind as Hyunjin mentions self-sacrifice.

You watch him as he takes a drag, tilting his pouty lips skyward to blow the smoke away from you. The slice of moonlight through the trees accentuates the sharpness of his jawline.

“Hyunjin, you don't really think we're gonna die, right?” You can feel the idiocy of the question as soon as it escapes your lips. Nonetheless, he ponders it, deeming it valid and contemplating the possible challenges you all might encounter. Hyunjin has battled demons ranging from the size of kittens, swarming him and tearing his flesh with their razor-sharp teeth, to giants that dwarf him, slamming him against walls with a single sweep of their enormous arms. He glances over at Chan and Jisung; his older brother is talking while Jisung listens intently, a look of concentration on his face as he nods and occasionally adds his thoughts.

Hyunjin taps the cigarette, and ashes sprinkle onto the dirt below. “This is my last cigarette,” he declares, holding it between his fingers and studying it, the burning orange end nearing the filter at the opposite end. He drops it onto the ground below, extinguishing it.

“We probably won't die.”

And you believe him.

━━━━━━━━

Lyra steps outside, her packmates spilling out and gathering at the forest's edge, chattering like athletes preparing for a tournament. She notices Chan kneeling down, rummaging through a backpack, nodding in approval, and muttering to himself. Lyra takes a moment to study him, with his shaggy hair and all-black attire, the brim of his hat pulled low. He moves on to the next backpack, extracting a small wooden box of herbs.

"Hey," she says, stepping down off the porch to join him.

Chan places the box back into the backpack, stands up, and dusts off his hands. "Sorry I haven't had a chance to introduce myself; this is all so unexpected," he says, extending a hand. "I'm—"

"Chris, yes. I've heard a little about you." Lyra shakes his hand before taking a deep breath, clasping her hands together. "So, you and my sister—"

"Me and your sister...?" Chan waits for her to continue, and when she doesn't, he chuckles, inviting her to follow suit. It's all a bit awkward, and she's relieved that he seems to realize it too.

"Congrats?" She offers, still unsure how it happened, considering he's technically...dead.

"Thanks, it's been a journey. Still figuring it out, but yeah... you ready to be an aunt?"

"I think so?" Lyra laughs. "Is she a wolf? Do you guys..."

"Not too sure of the species yet, but we know she's a witch, though."

Jisung catches the tail end of their conversation as he returns, stuffing a few more items into his backpack and removing others. He tightens the straps, ostentatiously tugging at the strings to avoid being caught eavesdropping. He still hasn't told you or Chan that the baby is a wolf-witch hybrid.

Maybe it's best they find out on their own, he thinks to himself.

"Uh oh, girl dad!" Lyra teases.

Chan raises his brows, his eyes widening as he sighs. "Yeah, I'm, ah, gonna have to let little witch take the reins, or I'm killing every boy that looks at her."

"Come on, you're really gonna go murdering some kids?"

"Ah, you know, I do have the most humanity left out of my brothers," Chan nods, looking up as he comes up with a different plan. "Her Uncle Hyunjin can take care of it."

Lyra feigns offense as she shoves him, and they both share a laugh. "Okay, but my dad was the same way, and he was a witch! He would do little things, like making spiders fall out of their mouths, knocking them off their bikes. Guys were terrified of me! They thought I was bad luck or something."

Chan has rarely heard you discuss your parents, but when they died, you mentioned how young you had been. Lyra was older than you by a few years, well into her teenage years when your parents were murdered.

"Ha, I like the way he thinks. More subtle," Chan says, pulling his backpack over his shoulders.

"Oh, hold on, let me—" Lyra steps behind him, fixing and tightening the straps. It gives her a moment to ponder another question. "You called her a little witch? Felix said that earlier when he referred to her. Is that, like, a thing?" she asks.

"Yeah, I guess I sort of started that," he says, rubbing the back of his neck with a bashful smile. "I said it because I didn't know her name at the time..." Chan's mind starts to drift back to the first night he encountered you at the mausoleum.

"That's so sweet. You guys are like... a family," Lyra remarks. The more she converses with the brothers and hears the way they speak about you, the more she can see the depth of their affection for you, an unlikely bond formed among different beings.

"Not me, I'm more like a cat... I just come for the food and then I go back to my actual home," Jisung chimes in, finally joining the conversation with his usual humor. He places an enthusiastic hand around Chan's upper forearm. 

"You ready?"

━━━━━━━━

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴅɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ? next part -> click here

[lyranova]

I almost forgot! :wah: 😭 Can I get something with Fue for the Halloween event please? 🥺❤️🔥

Hiya Laura! No worries, I’m sorry this is very very late, I should’ve had this done and posted last month but it got away from me 😔. But I hope you enjoy, this nearly turned into a Wives and Husbands fic, but I brought it back 😆! I hope you enjoy~!

Zera, Josele, and Briar who are all briefly mentioned belong to me @loosesodamarble and @koneko-pi respectively!

Word Count: 1,270

Warnings: None

————

“ Are…you sure about this?”

“ Of course, don’t you trust me?”

“ With my life. But…I don’t know-.”

“ Just trust me, you look fine.” Solara Equinox, wife of Fuegoleon Vermillion, said as she watched her husband inspect his Halloween costume for the upteenth time.

It had been her idea to do a couples costume this year, after she and her fellow Captain’s wives giggled about it during one of their ‘meetings’, and she was a bit surprised when Fuegoleon agreed to it.

But, he had one condition; he got to choose the costume, which she agreed to, since it wasn’t that big of a deal to her. At first she wondered if it would be something like a queen and king, or something like that.

She hadn’t really expected him to choose a vampire couple. But didn’t mind, nor did she complain, because as it turned out, that was what she was going to choose as well.

But she wasn’t going to tell him that.

“ What’s wrong? Don’t like the costume?” She asked curiously, her head tilted slightly. But he quickly shook his head.

“ No, the costumes perfect, it’s just…” He hummed as he suddenly held up a container.

“ Should…I leave the teeth? Or bring them with me?” Fuegoleon asked curiously as he stared down at the plastic mouthpiece in his hands, Solara hummed in thought.

“ Hm, I say put them in your pocket and bring them with you. That way if we take any photos you can put them in and complete the loom.” She suggested, and her husband nodded before he put the container in his pocket.

He walked away from the mirror and stood before her, decked out in his costume, and she smiled fondly as she straightened out his vest and cape.

“ Dashing as always, my dear husband.” Solara said with a warm smile as she rested her palms against his chest, feeling his heart thump steadily in his chest.

“ Thank you, and you look as lovely as always, my darling wife.” He told her warmly, his eyes looking down lovingly at her.

Solara reached up just slightly to place a sweet and loving kiss against his lips, a smile worked its way onto her lips as she felt his heart begin to race under her hand.

“ Shall we go? Otherwise the others might think we stood them up.” She said playfully as she pulled away, he blinked at her for a moment, his face a bit red, but he nodded.

“ Yes, let’s go before we’re late.” He agreed before he gently took his wife’s hand into his and walked with her out of their living quarters and out to the city.

————

The Capital was decorated to perfection.

There were pumpkins, both carved and uncarved, there were fake spider webs, haunted houses, candy, games. Everything you could ever dream of was there.

People were laughing, scaring each other silly, and were eating to their heart's content.

Solara and Fuegoleon walked arm in arm along the cobblestone street, pumpkin shaped containers filled with candy hanging off their arms, smiling and laughing amongst each other. Fuegoleon wasn’t normally one to enjoy or really celebrate Halloween, it was something he did with Leo when he was younger, but after he became Captain of the Crimson Lions he didn’t really have much time to do that with him anymore.

But recently, after meeting Solara, he found that his joy in the “spooky” holiday had been revived.

“ Solara~, Fuegoleon~, over here~!” Zera Cassia, wife of William Vangeance, shouted as she excitedly jumped up and down and waved her hands.

Beside the small woman was the wife of Nacht Faust, Josele Canty, and wife of Nozel Silva, Briar Rose. Their respective husbands standing beside them.

All of them dressed in different costumes that Fuegoleon and Solara completely imagined them all to be wearing.

The husbands greeted each other with small ‘hellos’ and nodded at one another as the wives ran up to each other and began to compliment each other's costumes and talk about their evenings.

“ So, shall we go into the haunted house and then visit the food stands?” Josele suggested, and the others nodded before the four of them linked arms and began to walk down the street together, leaving their husbands behind.

“ They do remember that we’re here right?” Nozel asked as he and the other husbands walked behind their wives.

“ They do. Right now they’re catching up on the latest gossip.” Nacht said with a shake of his head.

“ And look at how happy they are,” Fuegoleon said as he watched Solara smile brightly at a story that Briar was telling. When she noticed her husband staring at her she gave him a sly wink before her smile widened a bit. “ I think they’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

“ I know Zera has,” William agreed with a sigh. “ She’s been gathering as much gossip from her customers as she could just for tonight.” He chuckled softly.

Suddenly, the wives stopped and they each looked at their husbands over their shoulders. Devilish smirks and a mischievous glint suddenly appeared on their faces, and the husbands felt a sense of dread enter their bodies.

“ Oh gods.”

“ We’re in trouble.”

“ They’re plotting something.”

“ Is it too late to run away?”

The wives suddenly rushed towards their husbands, grabbed their hands, and dragged them each into different directions without saying a word.

Which signaled to them that some sort of plan was afoot.

Fuegoleon and Solara half-walked, half-ran down the street. Dodging people and carts. Giggles and chuckles escaping their lips as though they were a couple of teens, before eventually they came across what looked like a photo booth being manned by a…very tiny ghost.

“ Shall we take a few photos?” Solara suggested, a small glint in her eye that told him there was more to this than met the eye.

“ Alright.”

She gently led him in front of the camera and the two began to take a few photos. Some were sweet, some were ‘silly’, some were a little…steamy. But the two were having fun, and that was all that mattered.

Suddenly, as Fuegoleon was fixing his cloak, he felt something latch onto his ankles tightly. He jumped and, without thinking, set the backdrop ablaze. Revealing the tiny ghost, trembling in fear, before it quickly ran away.

“ Oh dear, that backfired, didn't it?” Solara hummed as she quickly began to try and put out the fire, Fuegoleon frowned.

“ You planned this?”

“ We did. That little ghost belongs to Briar, there’s about…5 of them running around here I think? Anyway, I believe the little ghost was hoping you would jump into my arms or something.” She muttered as she rubbed her arms sheepishly, and Fuegoleon felt his face turn red in embarrassment.

“ Ah, I see. So the ghost intended for us to get closer, which is why it scared me.”

“ Yes.”

“ Hmm, how interesting,” Fuegoleon hummed curiously as he moved closer to his wife and wrapped an arm around her waist. “ I wonder if the little ghost came up with that idea on its own, or if someone suggested it to them.”

“ Hm I’m not sure,” Solara said with an ‘innocent’ smirk as she wrapped her arms around her husband's neck. “ Maybe…a bit of both?”

Fuegoleon nodded before he smirked, bent down a bit, and captured his wife's lips in a warm and loving kiss as his arms wrapped around her waist and her arms wrapped around his neck.

The ‘scare’ didn’t really have its intended effect, but in a way, this was a lot better. At least, in Solara’s mind.

————-

Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you all have a good day~!

[magicstormfrostfire]

I'm in pain right now, and it's your fault. I'm reading Rose Drops, which is amazing, but I'm four chapters in and already on the verge of tears...

Anyways, I was wondering how you get inspiration for these fics? I love how you write and I just can't go without knowing the source of these wonderful ideas.

Lol sorry about that; honestly that's what I was hoping for though! Since that happens so early in the story, I wanted to show that that kind of thing happening isn't always 'the end' of a tale. It can lead to so much more.

As for inspiration....hm. Well, I've always been a storyteller; I used to make tons of comics in highschool and college, though I never showed them to anyone.

I can at the very least say that Rose Drops i wrote during a very difficult time in my life. I was homeless, couchsurfing, jobless, and my cat, who was my closest friend, died. there were so many things I was losing and leaving behind. Sonic has always been a comfort for me since I was a child, so I wrote a story about change and loss to cope with my own, and my hopes for a brighter future.

As for Blizzard Bedfellows, that one was a mix of talking to friends on Discord about Sonadow, and experimenting with the Boom universe for fun. Also i just really wanted to make a sonadow hibernation fic for the winter!

Equinox is sort of a mix of my fascination with vampires, werewolves, dark romance, blood and gore; stories I wrote a lot in highschool and are still fun. But I also thought Silver and Scourge would make an interesting dynamic and MAN do I enjoy writing them together. Equinox is a guilty pleasure in a way.

Lastly, Heavenly Bodies is from my Cardigan AU; where everyone is in their 30s-50s and just being cozy. I was inspired by Scragony's 'Vampire Husband' on webtoons. A comic about an immortal vampire and his elderly human wife. A very cute and cozy story. Sonic and Shadow kind of mimic that; an immortal hedgehog and his crunchy husband lol.

I have another idea mulling around in my head from a dream I had, which im tentatively calling Fractured AU. though nothing is concrete yet. Essentially Sonic Shadow and Silver go missing, and pieces of their personalities are copied and split and/or fused into sentient beings. Amy and the others try to find all the copies to solve the mystery of the hedgehog's disappearances.

And a Host Club AU that I made 2 years ago, thay is REALLY not put together beyond a rough draft lmao (it was originally a template for a Silver/Scourge fic, but I ended up going the Werehog route and made Equinox) the host club AU is technically centered around BlazeAmy, Sonilver, and Scourge/Vanilla, among other ships I like...but its so rough, man. I dont even talk about it because its not a full idea lol

In any case, im rambling, but I thought id that the opportunity to talk about all my ideas since you asked! It also gives a rough frame of things im working on for the future too. I hope you have fun reading Rose Drops! ^.^

[boliv-jenta]

The Thief x f!reader

New Year's Eve Drabbles

A happy ending.

Warnings: smut. P in V sex. Angst. Mentions of war.

Thief. Magician. Pillager. Conqueror. Destroyer. He had many monikers over the centuries. None compared to the one you gave him.

It had tumbled from your lips as you quivered beneath him the first time he had actually let you lay with him. "Mi Amor."

His heart ached with it, even months after you parted after last New Year's Eve. He had chosen you because he was captivated by you. He'd never seen such beauty. It radiated from your very soul. He knew they would love you. That they would be satisfied and he could feed from their satiated lust. And satisfy you did. The FBI Agent. The Boxer. The Criminal. The Protector. Them and the others. They all found what they were looking for. He'd fed from there satisfaction between your legs.

You were truly special. He didn't account for how special. Along with seeing what you needed to know about the men you were sleeping with, all his clients needed to give their full consent, he may be a monster but he isn't that type of a monster, you managed to turn the power he had given you on him. You would talk to him about his favourite things as he cleaned you with his tongue, drinking down the essence of their lust. He kept you longer than he should have just to hear your thoughts on his favourite things, your favourite things. When he returned you to New Year's Eve with no other memory than kissing him at midnight, you somehow returned to him. With each equinox or thinning of the veil you got close. He ached to touch you. To hold you, like he eventually had. To make love to you just once more. The years he let you stay pulled at him. No, you didn't belong with him. He'd convinced himself of that fact. Until he'd sent you back to your world at the time he had took you.

Somehow you still came back, still sort his deal, asked him to be reunited with a love you couldn't remember, a love you didn't recognise. He agreed to give you a chance, as long as you helped to fed him the quenched desires he needed. He was going to show you, show you you were better off without him.

He chose well from all the worlds in his grasp. The Mandalorian who gathered admiring glances where ever he went, a good heart under his armour. The Prince who was desired far and wide, a lover of skill. The Poet and the Artist, a taste of something sustaining beyond love. The DEA Agent, a man of determination, one that could fight to give you whatever your heart desired. The Superhero, an honest man who lived in the light. The Pilot, a fragile soul that you could grow old with. He tried to tempt you with them. He gave you softness with The Dreamer. A tasted of being provided for by The Businessman. A yearning for family with The Warrior. The Vampire had been an attempt to frighten you away from monsters. The Cowboy and The Killer were an attempt to frighten you away from the darker side of man.

None of it work. Even when they made you scream in ecstasy, you still called to him, still yearned for his touch. You lay together a hundred nights in between. You always returned to him. Maybe it was time he tried your company like they did. To find his truth, his path.

Opening the wine he poured two glasses. You would wake soon. The spell would take affect. You would only see enough of him to make you feel safe, to make your choice of if you desired him. If you wanted to share your bed with him.

Your eyes opened and you smiled at him. "Amando." That's all you saw. The solider that went with his army to do better for his people.

You didn't see how his blind faith in his commanders hurt people. How they destroyed villages in the name of their country and there was very little he could do to stop it. They never died by his sword. Never by his hand but he didn't always stop it either. One time he hesitated too long to save a life. For that he was cursed. Cursed to live off the satisfaction of others, cursed to live in servitude. He had long since made peace with it. Until you arrived.

It was like a dream, how you welcomed him into your arms. Your movements unhurried, you savoured each press of his lips, each swept of his tongue, every touch, every moan. As he joined your bodies over and over he expected the epiphany to strike him. Even after your lust was satiated. No moment of clarity came to him, his thoughts were all filled with you. Just you.

"My love." He sobbed against your cheek. As he let his guard down the walls of his spell came down too. You remembered everything. All your time with him. How you had fallen deeply in love with him. His kind soul, his warm heart, his intelligence, his creativity, the way he made you feel, safe, treasured, loved. You remembered his fear about letting you stay, about cursing you too, your agreement to see what other men could offer you.

"Shhhh. It's okay, Mi Amor."

Wrapped in your arms, letting you fully into his heart with no reservations. He finally felt satisfied himself. The tendrils of magic that gripped him withdrew, he felt it leave him. Felt his heart beat g9w it should once again, right against yours. Once more his spell had helped someone find their path. His was with you, free of his curse.

[somekindofadeviant]

The snow recently cleared up here and even the ice is gone, only dreary rain remains. Who knows what the coming weeks will bring. Here are some Wintery recs to sip a mulled sommelier to. Also some Christmas ones, 'tis the time for family after all. Warning: Some of these fics are hosted on old archives, warnings may be absent or non-exhaustive. They may contain noncon and torture and oodles of murders. If you want detailed or specific warnings for a fic, please DM me or ask in the notes.

The Whole Family

A Winter's Tale by Coquette - Gorgeously descriptive and evocative. Viscerally captures the feeling of the freezing depths of Winter. Rating: Explicit, Era: Victorian House-Guests From Hell And How To Send Them Back There by Glassdarkly - The family have guests for Christmas. It goes about as well as you'd expect. Deliciously funny. Rating: Teen+, Era: Victorian The Perfect Present by Glassdarkly - A lil Christmas shopping. Rating: Teen+, Era: Victorian Charity Begins At Home by Glassdarkly - The fam doing good deeds for Gurnenthar's Ascendance. Spike's enjoying himself enormously. Rating: Teen+, Era: Victorian

The Party by whichclothes - When Darla and Drusilla decide to host a Christmas party, that new fledge just will not behave. It's up to Angelus to teach him a lesson. Tagged Spangelus, but the whole family is involved in the torment and fun. Rating: Explicit, Era: Victorian

William's First Death Day by Hello Spikey - A winter deathday party with presents and spankings, oh my! Delightfully fluffy. Rating: Mature, Era: Victorian

Red as Any Blood by Cornerofmadness - Christmas carols and fruitcake, can vampires survive it? Rating: Teen+, Era: Victorian

Skating Lessons by trixiefatcat - A wonderfully silly bit of fun. The family go ice skating and the men face their fiercest foe yet: a frozen pond. Rating: Mature(ish), Era: Victorian

Poached Pairs

Affectations by Chrystler - While Angel is hanging - literally - in LA, his sire is an entire continent away. And hating every New York minute. Rating: Mature, Pairing: Past Angel/Darla, Era: 1952

Equinox: Winter by Kita - Angel ponders four ways to lose his soul to the Seasons. Takes place right after Reprisal but before Epiphany. Rating: Mature, Pairing: Angel/Darla (other pairings in the other seasons), Era: A:tS Season 2

24 Hour Midnight by Rebcake - A little stay in The Icehotel. Rating: Teen+, Pairing: Drusilla/Spike, Era: 1996 Nothing to Dread by Rebcake - It's Christmas Eve a month after Buffy dropped an organ on him, and Spike still isn’t feeling it. Rating: Explicit, Pairing: Drusilla/Spike, Era: BtVS Season 2 Just a Couple of Misfits by Rebcake - A Sprusilla crossover with Rankin Bass's Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Rating: Teen+, Pairing: Drusilla/Spike, Era: Vague but Pre-Series

Home by Writtenbyfates - A sweet moment of contentment together in St Petersburg. Rating: Explicit, Pairing: Drusilla/Spike, Era: Victorian

It's A Christmas Miracle! by Laure Alexander -  Set after the church collapsed on him, Spike isn't recovering and it's Christmas time trapped in a musty basement in Sunnyhell. Rating: Mature, Pairing: Drusilla/Spike, Era: BtVS Season 2 Every Day With Her Is Like Christmas by Laure Alexander - Spike brings Drusilla her Christmas presents Rating: Explicit, Pairing: Drusilla/Spike, Era: 1970s or 1980s

The Gold Wrapped Box by duh_i_read - There's a bit of a mix-up at the department store. Woops. Rating: Teen+, Pairing: Drusilla/Spike, Era: Vague but Pre-Series

Waiting For Alice by thawrecka - He is not afraid. She is not bothered. It is not real. I don't know that this really fits the theme, except that the cold ice and wind is so very bitter and it's all so very chilling. Rating: Teen+, Pairing: Darla/Spike, Era: A:tS Season 5

The Tranquility of Christmas by Kindredspirit75 - Angelus celebrates Christmas with the younger members of the family. Gory cute fluff. Pairing: Angelus/Drusilla/Spike, Era: Victorian

The Truce by Glassdarkly - It's Christmas - a time for giving, and for old enemies (or should that be frenemies?) to bury the hatchet. Temporarily, at least. Rating: Explicit, Pairing: Angel/Spike, Era: A:tS Season 5

Twas the Night Before Xmas Spangel Style by vamptasticA - This poem is cute as heck Rating: Explicit(ish), Pairing: Angel/Spike, Era: A:tS Season 5

Strictly Come Vampires by fenderlove - Angel is forced to participate as Wolfram and Hart's representative in a charity event on New Year's Eve. Can Spike help him not make a fool out of himself? Rating: Explicit, Pairing, Angel/Spike, Era: AU from A:tS Season 5

Shining + Santa and his Blue Elf by Acacia5 - Some adorable Christmas fun, a lil double drabble with Spike subjecting himself to torment, then a ficlet of hijinks at the mall. Rating: Teen+, Pairing: Angel/Spike and Spike+Ilyria, Era: A:tS Season 5

Slip a Sable Under the Tree by Janet Lynn - The boys show each other a lil Christmas spirit. Rating: Explicit, Pairing: Angelus/Spike, Era: BtVS Season 2 A Merry Bloody Christmas by Singedbylife - Spike is facing yet another Christmas all alone. Rating: Teen+, Pairing: Angel/Spike, Era: Post-Series

History Repeats Itself? by snogged - A lovely little drabble. Spike and Angel repeat their “first time.” Rating: Mature, Pairing: Angel/Spike, Era: Unstated

Slice of Time by Josey - A delightful whiling away of time by the fireplace. Rating: Explicit, Pairing: Angelus/Will, Era: Victorian

Stranger Things Have Happened by Estepheia - Christmas 2001, Spike and Angel bury the hatchet. Rating: Mature, Pairing: Angel/Spike, Era: BtVS Season 6 Nothing Else Matters by Estepheia - 6 weeks after Christmas, a bruised and beaten Spike visits Angel. The sequel to Stranger Things Have Happened. Rating: Mature, Pairing: Angel/Spike, Era: BtVS Season 6

[miwachan2]

Hello :) Have vamp!Sun, Moon, or Eclipse ever flared their cape to dazzle/mesmerize their prey before catching them (cuttlefish style)? XD I for one would be screwed if Eclipse decided to do this, he and his cape are just too pretty :'D

the ol razzle dazzle

[xiathiau-myshif]

Uhhhh people do pinned posts about themselves don't they

Hi, I'm Xiathiau (you can call me Xia or Somno) and I'm 15. (NSFW blogs that follow me will be blocked)

I am queer, nonbinary, polykin, and fictionkin/fictionflicker. I'm also british, posic, and constelic.

I use many names, Xiathiau/Xia and Somno being just a couple. Others include Ibu/Ibu Amaseki, Equinox, Eclipse, and Catharsis, plus I use a different name for each of my kintypes to distinguish between them. Each kintype name is in the description of their respective side blogs

I'm autistic, and my special interests are hypnosis (SFW!!) and space, specifically black holes.

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

Pronouns:

Any pronouns other than he or she are fine, but below are my preferred

Xe/xem/xyr, ae/aer/aers, it/its, kit/kits, and mer/mers

My blog doesn't really have a theme, I'll just post whatever

I have sideblogs for most kintypes

Sideblog for my Original Work ao3 story: @the-city-edge

If you want to confess your autism-related sins: @unhingedautisticconfessions

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

Type list:

Theriotypes: melanoid axolotl ( @goth-silly-guy ), ragdoll cat ( @cotton-candy-fur ), and melanistic red fox ( @fuzzy-fox-kid )

Kintypes: vampire ( @red-roses-and-fangs ), sea dragon ( @mariana-creature ), and angel ( @alien-seraph )

Strongly kinsidering: doll/robot/animatronic of some kind. Have gone with haunted doll ( @haunted-aerie )

Fictionkin: Ribombee (Pokémon, @i-am-a-ribombee )

Copinglink: AIDAN (The Illuminae Files, @aidan-illuminae )

Note: shifts are confusing, I rarely shift and it's usually phantom shifts

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

DNI: Exclusionists of (almost) any kind, e.g. ace, aro lgb without the t folks. Homophobes, transphobes, racists, misogynists, ableists, paedos, antisemites, Nazis etc. Basically generally terrible people. Also Dream stans, therian/otherkin/fictionkin antis, neopronoun antis. As my description reads, TERFS will be shot on sight.

Though I am not a system, and this is not a place for syscourse, if you are anti-endogenic/non-traumagenic system, kindly educate yourself.

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

Spam likers/rebloggers are completely welcome, as well as asks, whether you want to show me pictures of an animal or a landscape, anything like that.

Uhhh my hobbies are video gaming, reading, and music composing. I like cats, snakes, and foxes.

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

Tag system (this is pretty new so older posts will not have these tags unless I go through them):

#xia irl - irl posts

#xia kin stuff - otherkin posts

#xia's hoard - reblogs

#xia's random posts - just random things

#shutterbug xia - pictures I took

#xia's autistic moments - new hyperfixations I develop

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

This might be updated if I remember something I missed, or the info becomes outdated.

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

Thank you! :3

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

[imelht]

Since you're accepting asks can we please learn more about Equinox ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Alright! This is going to be a bit long since Equinox has plenty behind him.

Equinox is Meta Knight’s and King Dedede’s child but apparently, he is a dampyr!

A dampyr is what you call the offspring of a vampire and a human (in this case, mortal.) I head canon that Meta Knight is a vampire (hence the fangs I give him.) Equinox was brought into this world not by Star Dream, but instead from Meta Knight’s own power. (The story goes that Meta Knight used cellular alteration to bring him to life as a small child. Whether or not his birth was natural or artificial is something Meta Knight will not tell anyone…) However, since he is half-vampire and half-mortal he does not suffer from any vampiric weaknesses (such as sunlight or silver) but he still ages (very slowly just like a puff) and he also still deals with his bloodlust.

Despite being a vampiric being he is very gentle and benevolent in nature, though he has his wild streaks* sometimes. He also is very well aware of his surroundings, he is cunning and he is a very quick learner. He also seems to take his bloodlust even better than Meta…

Equinox was born on September 22, which was also the day of an equinox (autumn equinox.) When he was born his parents were overjoyed that the alteration was a success (he didn’t die or carry any off-genes or mutations…) and he was quickly taken in and introduced to the Waddle Dees, Kirby etc…

He is still extremely young despite him looking like a small child or even teen. He knows to to read and speak and he has proven himself to be very empathetic to Meta Knight’s surprise. Despite being a work of dark magic he seems to be just as legit as any child born by natural means.

In his off-time he likes to play and eat with Kirby, he has a really big gut and will eat three-fourths of his weight in a single sitting. (As mentioned in a previous post one of the tags said he really likes sweets…) He also enjoys reading (specifically psychology and short fiction…)

His physical figure represents King Dedede’s but he has Meta’s wings, claws and fangs. He also has a small tail which you can see if he is not wearing his robe. He sports a robe-cape that covers his arms but is open in the front, revealing a fuzzy tummy and a band similar to Dedede’s. On the back is a mashup of Meta Knight’s and Dedede’s insignias. He also has a tuft of hair on top of his head and has longer fur on his belly. His fangs are two on the top, two on the bottom (not grown in yet & same as Meta’s) he is able to walk outside at daytime without the need for a parasol and he also is able to eat human food with ease (he can be sustained on it as well.) (Still needs blood occasionally though…)

In general Equinox is a dampyr who is very kind. He loves his fathers and despite having a dark side he does not give into it. (Meta is a very good role model, as he has undergone his own harsh journey through darkness in order to find light. He struggles with his lusts, sure, but he has the willpower to deal with them and stow them away.)

Lore on Meta’s affliction will be coming soon, it will clear up any confusion that you might have in regards to Meta and his vampiric nature. More may be added to Equinox’s backstory as well.

Also, thank you so much Anon for asking! Have these pictures of Equinox for now.

[belbeten]

Autumn this or that

pumpkin or apple  // cocoa or cider // halloween or thanksgiving // leaf piles or apple picking // hay ride or corn maze // woolly sweater or furry slippers // pumpkin carving or knitting // squash or sweet potato // black cat or bat // skeletons or witches // fake blood or fake spiders // mashed potatoes or stuffing // orange or black // apple pie or maple donuts // marshmallows or candy corn // vampire or werewolf // fireplace or cozy nook // spiced wine or craft beer // candied apples or s'mores // big scarf or oversized hoodie

bonus asks from @boisinberryjamarama :

surprise warm day or first cold snap // fall festival or football kickoff party // equinox or solstice // chili (vegetarian optional) or butternut squash soup

And I love this idea of adding additional ones, so here's a few of my own:

the smell of woodsmoke or the smell of fallen leaves // haunted house or leaf peeping // scary decorations and costumes or funny decorations and costumes

Thanks for the tag @boisinberryjamarama 😊 I know you tagged me months ago, and I know it probably seems like I purposely waited until Sept 1st to post an autumn-themed tag game, but really that's just a happy accident! Happy Fall, y'all! 🍁

Tagging @castles-in-the-eyre, @thr3eguess3s, @dustednight, @mister-eames, and @vex-verlain and anyone else who loves fall!

[iwritelmao]

SO I HAD AN IDEA

as I normally do when I’m hyperfixating, I decided to write fanfiction bc sometimes the source material doesn’t/can’t give us anything and everything.

anyway I hear there’s a discussion about Astarion being a good dad vs Astarion being a bad dad. And apparently Neil Newbon himself declared the latter. I’m definitely inclined to agree.

SO I made an OC who’s father is Astarion. And drew up a character sheet for them. But the character sheet is rly messy and is drawn onto sketchbook paper so that won’t be shown till I can make it neat and legible lol

Anyway, read below the cut for more info (TW: mentions of suicide)

Dawn was born to Selene Windor, an elven poet and artist in a small port town. Her father, she never knew, only hearing stories artfully crafted by Selene.

Selene had lived on the Seaview Docks for a long time, a number of human generations. She was an elf after all. She knew the residents and in time would know the residents’ grandchildren. They knew her as well. The old, yet eternally young bard who lived on the edge of town.

But of course, this tended to get old. Hundreds of equinoxes and solstices blended together into beautiful and torturous monotony. She longed for excitement.

When an outsider visited, which rarely happened at the docks, save for fishers and merchants, everything changed. It was sparked by a mere few seconds of eye contact under the stars.

Selene had been shopping for fish at the night market—a familiar town tradition where lanterns and stalls decorated the moonlit street once every month—when she saw him. Pointed ears, a sharp jawline, and white curls that rivaled her own pin straight honey blonde. When their eyes met, he paused for a moment then flashed her a toothy grin.

They met in the middle of the market. She asked where he was from, he said “everywhere.” He asked the same, and she said “nowhere.” She asked his name. He said “whatever you want” with a smile that made Selene want to cry out in joy.

He stayed in town for months—the blink of an eye for an elf. She wrote of nothing but Him, painted Him, loved Him with everything she had, trying to guess a name that she knew would never amount to his beauty and the kindness he showed her.

So he called her his moon, and him her stars.

He offered to take her places, far-away places, more often than not. She politely declined. He even told her the truth about what he was, and she only loved him more for it.

He almost stayed. Almost.

The night before the stars faded he loved her like he had never loved anyone before. More truly than he had loved anyone before. He offered once more to take her away, to somewhere called Baldur’s Gate, a bustling city where her art could grow and travel beyond ports and docks. He even shed a tear of blood when at last he said that he’d take her to meet his family, his voice pleading and sorrowful.

She politely declined.

And he left in the morning. Before she could even tell him that she was with child.

Selene was driven mad with grief, destroying all of the paintings and locking away all of the poems.

When Dawn arrived, she cried. The little girl looked just like him, with wavy blonde hair only a shade away from white. Though she had her mother’s dark brown eyes, or so Selene thought.

Looking closer at the baby, she realized that her dark eyes had just a tint of scarlet over them.

Of course. The baby was a Dhampir.

Throughout Dawn’s childhood, she had to support her mother, who never left the house anymore. She worked when she could and stole when she couldn’t. And it was more often than not that she couldn’t due to the fact that everyone in the small town seemed to know what she was. The spawn of a vampire spawn.

It was one thing for a child to grow up without any friends. It was a complete other thing for a child to grow up being feared just because she had to drain chickens or raw cow meat from the market to survive.

When she was thirteen, a burglar came through the town. The body was found at the base of the docks after the third night of thievery, drained of blood.

When she was fifteen, it was a merchant’s son. The out of towner survived with a bite mark on his neck and some lightheadedness.

Dawn decided it was best to spend most of her time inside, taking care of her mother.

Selene had written little other than sorrowful poems about lost love, and could no longer remember the face of Dawn’s father to paint again. When she told Dawn the story, she told it with fondness, but would break down in a fit of tears and keening shortly after, if not right in the middle.

Dawn never saw the story as beautiful or fond. She did not see her father as someone who would ever come back and love them both despite her mother’s hysteric protests.

When she was eighteen, Dawn returned home to find her mother on the floor of the kitchen, dead. There was a bottle of poison in her hand and the everlasting look on her face was that of tear stained grief.

She knew this was coming. She knew it would happen eventually. For what elf would want to live for over six hundred years without the one they were convinced was their true love.

And so, the dhampir girl set out, her mind clouded with anger, yet sharp with a thirst for blood and revenge. She would go to Baldur’s Gate. She would find the man who killed her mother, whether it be indirectly or not. And she would kill Him.

Though she was not quite prepared for things to go as awry as they had.

PT2: https://www.tumblr.com/iwritelmao/738342079719178240/pt2?source=share

[volterran-wine]

.·:*¨༺ 𝟏𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝙁𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙨 ༻¨*:·.

Words cannot describe how I feel right now, for I never thought on a dreary September evening last year that I would have 1000 people who were willing to listen to me ramble on about vampires and The Volturi. From the bottom of my heart; thank you.

It has truly been an honour and I cannot wait to see what the future has in store for us. Tonight I will throw myself a little bit of celebration to commemorate. 

And since this is a rather large milestone I have prepared a week of goodies for you all; 

—

.·:*¨༺ Coming next week ༻¨*:·.

Monday: A new chapter of Snowfall // An Orchestral Volturi Playlist // A Special Moodboard

Tuesday: Previews for Several Upcoming Stories  // A Special Moodboard // A Bite Sized Headcanon. 

Wednesday: The Prologue of Sweet Children of Mine //  A Special Fancast // A Bite Sized Headcanon. 

Thursday: The first chapter of Equinox, my New Moon rewrite // A Special Playlist 

Friday - Sunday: Ask The Volturi - The Sequel; ask your favourite Volturi anything you are curious about and they will get back to you.

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I will also be answering questions in-between the scheduled posts to the best of my capabilities. Again, thank you so much for your support and kind words the last 10 months or so. I love you all 🖤

- 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝑁𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑒

[mysticonsheadcanons]

Mysticons Fan Season 6 Episode 10: An Elf's Memories

Piper is walking past the TV in the stronghold's living room, where Em is watching a documentary about creatures from different dimensions. A mauader is seen attacking vehicles, reminding Piper of seeing a maurader outside the circus's van. Em notices Piper's look of surprise, and asks if everything is OK. Piper says she's fine, and that she'll be back in a bit.

Piper goes to the Library of the Eternal Equinox, and sees Proxima there. Proxima says that she read all the books about vampires that the Academy had, and wanted to do research there to figure out a way to stop Mallock. She then asks what Piper was doing there, as Piper's not usually interested in research. Piper tells how after a bus crash, she knows that no one survived, but the details about it are fuzzy. She then asks Proxima if she knows of a way to bring back repressed memories. Proxima helps her research, and they find a pond that brings back all memories. However, as it's a difficult trip and the memories it brings back may be unplesent, Proxima suggests Piper thinks about it and asks the Mysticons for help. Piper agrees, and checks out the book.

That night, Piper is reading about the pond, including more about the dangers it brings. While she wants to figure out what happened, she doesn't want to put the others in danger, so she sneaks out. Choko sees, and while Piper initially doesn't want to put the foz in danger, she knows that Choko will wake everyone up, so she lets Choko come.

The next day, Sharise notices that Piper and Choko are gone. Proxima calls, and Arkayna says that this isn't a good time, as Piper and Choko are missing. Proxima tells Arkayna everything about the pond and Piper's missing memories, and they realize that Piper is heading there. They try to call her, but upon not getting an answer, decide to go there, with Doug and Malvaron staying back in case Piper returns.

As the path to the pond is too dense for Miss Paisley to fly through, Piper lands on a nearby grassy area and begins walking along the rest of the way. She notices that there is a lot of bones, and faces off against various obstacles, such as living vines and extremely strong winds. As she walks, she remembers that there was a figure with the mauraders, but doesn't know who it is. Her thoughts are inturrupted by Mallock and Element. A fight ensues between the two of them.

Meanwhile, the other Mysticons and Proxima see Miss Paisley, and decide to land there and look for Piper on foot. Along the way, Arkayna asks Zarya if she knows anything about Piper's past. Zarya admits that Piper didn't talk too much about it, just that she knows her family is gone. Zarya then continues, saying that she should have realized Piper was planning to sneak out, as she's Piper's older sister. Proxima says that Piper seemed truthful about getting the others to help when they talked, suggesting Piper planned to ask them, but changed her mind.

Back at the fight, Piper is pushed off a nearby cliff. While Mallock thinks he defeated Piper and leaves, it is revealed that Piper had survived, using her hoops to slow down her fall. She finds herself surrounded by bones, and her mind flashes back to landing on the ground after the crash, and a pile of bones fell over her before catching onto each other, appearing to be a bone cage. After pushing the bones away, she realizes that she's where the crash took place, and starts crying. Proxima and the other Mysticons find and comfort her, promising that no matter what happened in her past, they'll be there for her. Em suggests that they go home, but Piper wants to continue.

They find the pond, and Piper looks inside it. She remembers playing with her toy griffin in the train when a figure used mauraders to attack them. And while she doesn't recongize the hooded figure who did so, she does remember that it was someone wearing an astromancer cloak, but with a pin witht the spectral hand signal attached to it. Piper starts crying again, wondering who could have done such a thing. Arkayna remembers what Nova Terron told Tazma about her not being the first Astromancer to go down a path of darkness, and wonder if whoever did this to Piper's circus was that Astromancer.