──; stitch the living to the dead and the undead.

──; when a witch can dance seamlessly on the threshold of each.

Dancing with witches, faeries, demons, and the dead.

Deep in rain-damp forests gathering wood and flowers. Dancing to faerie music by the holy bright light of bonfires.

'Tis the eve of May. Don't forget to leave something for the fairies.

[Little bird is in hot water for testing my level of restraint in public.]

[Comments and deletes. Comments and deletes. Comments and deletes.] You know 𝑒𝑥𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑦 what you did here.

Name a better way of illustrating one's devotion. I'll wait.

You've got to demonstrate your commitment to the cause.

I had a reputation as a deadly motherfucker.

i can't unlove you not even death will end this fire

Hard to love. Harder to unlove.

⸻ @littleredsongbird.bsky.social [Includes a hand-made note, because romantic birthday sentiments should always come straight from the heart.] Happy Incarnation Day, my pretty little bird.

Maybe you, too, can experience the joy of bringing home a woodland forest sprite. (You just can't have mine.)

Bless me Father, for I have . . . 𝙤𝙗𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙.

【...】

Happy Valentin’s day 😽❤️

【── @invitedin.bsky.social 】 My immortal beloved, my demon lover, my 𝑩𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝑪𝒓𝒐𝒘 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉, the love of my life and afterlife. My bloody Valentine, rot with me for all eternity.

⸻ @littleredsongbird.bsky.social

There isn’t a worse threat out there to you than me.

Speaking of irresistible... [Flicks his gaze at the bowl before her, mounded high with succulent pomegranates.] Help yourself, my little Proserpina.

(I relish life by dining on it.)

Babe, does this shirt make me look 𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡?

I agree. Life 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 be relished.

Bloody marks on your neck; claimed you as mine.

I got my hands around your throat, I love the way you choke Cause I am yours and you are mine, I'll never let you go

⸻ @littleredsongbird.bsky.social

|| Same, only scratch out four and make it a five. This year was a blink. Here's to 2026 being less of a shit-show and going just a tiny bit slower. And thank you, to my little feather floater, for being not only a wonderful writing partner but that person who is always willing to lend an ear.--

Nothing is what it seems.

𝑀𝑦 𝑝𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑦𝑒𝑡.

A descent into the underworld.

Offended. Definitely offended.

[He’s down the stairs, jacket on, eyes rolling as he opens the door and hollers back,] Find a hobby that isn’t me! [The door slams and he stops, breathing in the night air. He’s instantly at home under the near-moonless sky and a second later he’s gone⸺ just one more shadow moving through the night.

[𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 has just been stuffed into an envelope and is disappearing into a pocket. He’s standing. And scowling. He’s done here.] None of your god-damned business, Nancy Drew. I’m going out. Don’t wait up.

How about, [Draws out the words as he caps the pen and folds the sheet of paper in thirds.] piss off a vampire, end up dead? [Looks up, offering a brief, bland smile.] Why are you here? What do you want?

Very funny, Stefan.

[Doesn’t look up from the desk where he’s writing.] Upset you didn’t think of it first?

Mm. Yes, I’m sure you were busy making house calls in the area. [Tracks her movement, noting her pleased expression as she makes herself at home with his alcohol. One of these days, he’s going to move the good stuff behind lock and key. The pearls-of-wisdom comment elicits a slow smile. She’s--

Oh, look. The past. It's here. 𝐴𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛. No, wise-ass. [Flicks a dismissive hand in her direction.] They say don't make them.

Usually. But when it keeps dropping by for tea, sometimes you need to be a little more aggressive.

I'm going to pretend I didn't see that.

You know what they say about assumptions.

Not to brag, but I was 𝑖𝑛𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑑.

A girl who's a fire starter and a boy who loves flames.

Crows are just giant goth doves.

[And drag her (kicking and screaming) into the Underworld.]