Sylva Moonwhisper

Left to right: Aphrodite, Gizmo (dog), Zagreus, Persephone, Despair (horse), Venus, Caleb and lastly Alaric.

Persephone is the formidable Matriarch of the Bloodstone Dynasty; sharp-tongued, nosy, and unapologetically ambitious. Her rise began when she was taken under the wing of Vladislaus Straud. What started as mentorship soon turned intimate, resulting in the birth of their daughter, Aphrodite.

During this time, Persephone worked closely with Grim Reaper, becoming his right hand. Though married to Vlad, she fell deeply for Grim, and their affair led to the birth of her son, Zagreus.

Power was always Persephone’s true calling. Determined to rule, she clawed her way to the top and ultimately crowned herself Queen of Forgotten Hollow. Her ascent came at a cost - when Vlad discovered that Zagreus was not his son, tensions erupted. Persephone ended the conflict swiftly and decisively: Vlad was cast out of the castle and their marriage dissolved.

Not long after, Persephone reconnected with Caleb Vatore through her close friend Lilith Vatore - only to uncover a shocking truth. Caleb was her brother. Despite this revelation, the three formed a powerful vampire coven together. Persephone also personally trained three additional vampires into their ranks: Rebecca Clancy, Wendy Brown, and Nancy Landgraab.

In time, trust and unity deepened into love. Persephone and Caleb formalized their bond in marriage, uniting power, devotion, and bloodline and solidifying Persephone’s reign as both Queen and Matriarch.

Together, they welcomed two children: Alaric, followed later by Venus, completing what has become a vast and tightly bound vampire family.

Yet not all wounds within the castle were healed cleanly.

One of the family’s darkest moments occurred during Alaric’s early days as a fledgling vampire. Brittney Bass, Zagreus’s human fiancée and an aspiring spellcaster, had been staying at the castle when Alaric, still unable to control his thirst, accidentally turned her. She had never asked to become a vampire.

Furious and devastated, Zagreus confronted his brother, and the conflict threatened to fracture the family. Desperate to right the wrong, Zagreus turned to Persephone. As Queen and Matriarch, she took responsibility and created a vampire cure specifically for Brittney. Brittney drank it, reclaiming her humanity, but the ordeal was not yet over.

Moments later, Alaric compelled Brittney into a deep drink, crossing a line that could not be ignored. Though Brittney did not turn again, the violation left lasting consequences.

Persephone intervened immediately. Alaric was subjected to strict discipline and intensive vampire training until he mastered full control of his thirst, ensuring he would never again drink from Sims without consent. The incident became a defining moment for him. One that reshaped his path and reinforced the laws Persephone enforces within her coven.

Despite the scars, the family endured.

Aphrodite, determined to be everything her father was not, has vowed to nurture love rather than rule through fear. She is the chosen Bloodstone Dynasty Heir. After graduating high school early, she earned a degree in Psychology, briefly worked as a lifestyle coach, and has since returned to the Noble career to follow in her mother’s footsteps.

Zagreus found solace away from vampire politics in horses. Engaged to Brittney Bass, he graduated high school early and is currently pursuing a Computer Science degree at university. His dream is to move to Chestnut Ridge, raise Clydesdales, and build a quieter life. For now, he owns one striking mare named Despair; black and white, marked with a scythe-shaped cutie mark.

Alaric, forever changed by his mistakes, has become the castle’s unexpected soft spot. A devoted dog lover. He has his own pup, Gizmo, and somehow attracts stray dogs from all over. A vampire castle overflowing with dogs is strange… but perhaps fitting.

Young Venus is still in elementary school, but her personality is already shining through. She adores all things pink and anything tied to love, hinting at a future very different from the blood-soaked throne her mother claimed.

The crown is secure. The coven stands strong.

Stories are like magic—sometimes they shift, bend, and bloom into unexpected shapes. ✨

The Moonwhisper family has taken root in a new timeline. In this thread of the story, both of Sylva’s grandparents are still alive in Henford-on-Bagley. Rowan, the fae patriarch, and Ivy, the wise Spellcaster matriarch, raised their daughter Elowen in their cottage. Elowen kept her family name when she married Callum Thorne, and together they had two daughters: pink-haired Sylva, born a fairy, and her spellcaster little sister, Elara.

In this world, Sylva grew into herself differently. She pursued her studies, earning degrees in Biology and Physics, becoming a Master Apothecary. She met and fell in love with Frederick Greenbriar, a verdant soul tied to the plants and wild earth. Their love blossomed quickly, and soon after they welcomed their first child, Aurelia, a fairy infant with her mother’s spark.

But magic—and life—rarely follow a perfect path. Freddy’s heart wavered, and moments of betrayal shook the family’s roots. Sylva’s trust cracked when she caught him flirting not just with strangers, but with those closest to her. It was a painful fracture that changed everything.

And yet… Sylva and Freddy have not given up. They left the family cottage, seeking a place of their own where they could rebuild. Together they’ve opened a new chapter: a sprawling tavern with an Apothecary stall, a bed-and-breakfast tucked behind, and even a wedding venue waiting for its day of joy.

She’s here.

Seraphina Moonwhisper has arrived—soft, perfect, and green. 💚

The moment I saw her tiny face, I think my heart grew roots and wrapped itself around her forever. She’s swaddled in the soft moss-green blanket Grandma Ivy made years ago, and she looks like she was born from the forest itself—skin like spring leaves, the faintest shimmer when the light hits her just right. Even her little hair fuzz has a deep green tint, as if she’s been kissed by every vine and meadow in Innisgreen.

Freddy was speechless at first. He just stared at her with wide eyes, his hands trembling when he reached to hold her. Then, in the quietest voice, he whispered, “She’s perfect… she’s mine.” I’ve never seen him look so proud—or so completely smitten.

Aurelia peeked over from my lap, curious but not quite sure what to make of her new sister yet. She tried to reach out and pat Seraphina’s blanket, and then promptly decided she’d rather tug on my braid instead. (We’ll work on the big sister thing.)

The air in the cottage feels different tonight—warmer, fuller, humming with magic. Seraphina hasn’t even been here for a whole day, and already it feels like she’s always been part of us.

I can’t stop staring at her. Her tiny fingers curl like the tips of new ferns. Her breathing is soft and steady, like the rhythm of rain on leaves. She smells like fresh earth after a storm.

Welcome home, my little forest sprite. 🌱 You were always meant to be here.

—Sylva

Moonwood Mill – Full Moon Aftermath

I knew the change was coming. I could feel it crawling under my skin in the days leading up to the full moon—like a wild heartbeat echoing louder with each passing hour. But nothing, nothing, could’ve prepared me for how it actually felt when the wolf inside me took over.

It was chaos.

Not just the breaking of bones or the stretch of skin, though that part was... primal. Brutal. It was the rage. The fury boiled up so fast I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even see straight. I remember knocking over trees. Scratching the rocks. Howling so loud it echoed off the cliffs and came back sounding like someone else.

I couldn’t calm down.

Until Rory.

I don’t know what made her come running—instinct maybe. Or fate. Maybe both. One second I was on the edge of losing myself completely... and then she was there. Her eyes locked on mine and the world tilted. She didn’t speak. She just stepped closer, slowly, and reached out with this kind of quiet certainty like she knew I wouldn’t hurt her.

And I didn’t.

The moment her hand touched me, it was like the fire inside me had somewhere to go. I could feel it drain out through that touch, like she’d grounded me. My claws retracted, my breath slowed, and I shifted back—shaking, dazed, but me.

We still have a long way to go. We're both hot-headed and our fury spikes faster than we want it to, but we’re learning—together. I’m still the Omega in the Wildfangs, but I’m not staying there. Rory’s the Alpha and I’m fighting my way to Beta, right beside her.

The pack calls me “Runt” now.

They won’t for long.

Entry Two

Last night was a full moon.

Rory disappeared before sunset—said she needed to “run it out,” whatever that means. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me. We’ve grown close, really close, but there’s still this whole side of her I don’t understand. Something wild. Something… untouchable.

She came back at dawn, looking exhausted, her clothes torn and eyes haunted. I didn’t ask questions. I just made her coffee and sat with her until the silence felt soft again.

Later, after the haze lifted, we finally had the talk—the one I’ve been too scared to bring up.

I told her I didn’t want to keep pretending we were just friends with benefits. That I cared about her. That I wanted more.

She smiled. Rory Oaklow, leader of the Wildfangs, who never lets her guard down, looked at me like I was the safest thing she’d ever seen.

She said yes.

She said she wanted to be my partner.

And gods, it was like striking a match inside my ribcage. We kissed, and the whole world disappeared. We barely made it to the bedroom. It was wild and breathless and everything.

But… at the very end, when we collapsed into each other like tangled vines—she bit me.

Not playful. Not light. Hard.

Right on my shoulder.

She didn’t even seem to notice. I laughed it off in the moment, tried to play it cool. But now, hours later, the skin is red and tender, and something hurts under the surface.

I don’t know what’s happening to me.

I keep telling myself it’s just a love bite gone wrong. That I’m being dramatic. That Rory would never—

But what if she would?

What if there’s more to the Wildfangs than punk fashion and late-night bonfires?

What if I’m not just falling in love with Rory… but being pulled into something I’m not ready for?

I haven’t told her it hurts.

I haven’t told her I’m scared.

But I can feel something stirring under my skin, and I’m not sure it’s just anxiety.

I think the full moon did more than mess with my heart.

Entry One

When I left everything behind and hitchhiked to Moonwood Mill, I didn’t have a plan—just a backpack and a bruised heart. No money. No job. I spent the first few nights sleeping under the trees, foraging for mushrooms, and talking to a half-burned plush toy I found by the train tracks. (Yeah, that’s where I’m at.)

Then I met Rory Oaklow at the old ruins.

She was fire and confidence and adrenaline rolled into one leather-clad package. I was just looking for a distraction. She offered me a home. Not officially—I mean, I’m crashing on her couch, and we haven’t really talked about what this is. But we’ve shared late-night bonfires, stolen glances, and… yeah, we’ve hooked up. More than once.

She’s magnetic. Dangerous, maybe. But I’m drawn to her like gravity.

Still… I don’t know what I am to her.

I keep catching her whispering with her friends—the Wildfangs—like they’re planning something. There's this look in her eyes sometimes, wild and watchful. She always seems to know when I’m nearby… or when I’m lying. I get the feeling she’s keeping secrets. And maybe I’m okay with that. For now.

But the more I fall for her, the more I wonder if I’m already in over my head.

Should I ask her if we’re more than just roommates with benefits? Should I ask what the Wildfangs really are?

There’s a pull in my gut that says everything’s about to change.

And I’m scared that if I ask too many questions, I won’t like the answers.

Aspiration: Nature Nomad Traits: Hot-Headed | Animal Enthusiast | Loner Occult: Human (for now) Current World: Moonwood Mill

Rowan Wilder showed up in Moonwood Mill with nothing to her name but a stubborn streak and a knack for finding trouble. She’s hot-tempered, fiercely independent, and trusts animals more than people — maybe because animals don’t ask questions. Rowan doesn’t talk much about where she came from, but it’s clear she didn’t come from comfort. She’s a survivor, not by choice, but by necessity.

Her rags-to-riches journey started in the cold dirt, foraging berries and mushrooms just to eat. One of the first things she found? A freezer bunny plush — and with it, the unsettling emotional void ailment. Not even five minutes in, and the world was already messing with her.

Then came an unexpected invitation to a dance party at the ruins. That’s where she met Rory Oaklow, the bold and captivating Wildfangs leader. Sparks didn’t fly exactly — but something did. A shared energy. A magnetism. Rowan asked to move in that night. They’re just roommates… for now. But fate? It’s watching.

The moon is rising. Something is stirring in Rowan’s blood — something ancient, something hungry. She’s not a werewolf yet… …but maybe she was always meant to be.

Date: The night the veil thinned (Third Trimester Moon, Forgotten Hollow) Entry Title: The First Night of Ambrose

They say the dead of night is when most things come alive — secrets, memories, the pulse beneath silence.

It was sometime past midnight when the contractions began, and though the pain was sharp, there was something… ancient about it. As if the blood of every Vatore before him stirred in anticipation. Caleb was at my side — frantic but trying to look composed, pacing the length of the hallway like it mattered, like he could hold the moon back just a little longer. Lilith kept her distance, but I could hear her downstairs muttering prayers in Old Simlish.

And then — as the wind howled outside, rattling the stained glass — he arrived.

Ambrose.

Named for a quiet strength and a brilliant flame that burns even in darkness. His cry was sharp, fierce, a sound that echoed through the manor and made even the bats fall still. He has Caleb’s eyes — that stormy stillness — but already I see something wild and literary blooming behind them. Maybe he’ll be a dreamer. Maybe he’ll tear the world apart and rewrite it with ink and fangs.

He is mine, and I have never loved anything more completely. And yet… I already feel time moving again. Not the hours, but the centuries.

Motherhood as a Vampire is… strange. My heart, which hasn’t beat in years, feels like it’s thundering.

Tonight, Forgotten Hollow gained a new heir. His name is Ambrose Vatore. And his story begins now.

"Welcome to the world little bat." - Caleb Vatore

— Odessa Nyx 🦇

Date Unknown — Time feels weird lately

I’ve barely had time to breathe—metaphorically speaking, of course. My life has turned into something out of a penny dreadful, and weirdly… I don’t hate it.

I married Caleb. He looked at me like I hung the moon, and I proposed. In the backyard, beneath that eerie Forgotten Hollow twilight, we said our vows. I think the birds stopped singing. Very on-brand.

And then… Lilith. She didn’t even wait a full hour. Just cornered me in the kitchen and sank her teeth into my neck like it was the most natural thing in the world. She didn’t ask. She didn’t explain. Just bit me, and then offered her wrist with that unreadable look she always wears. I accepted. Of course I did.

And now, I’m… different. I feel it. The hunger, the power humming just beneath my skin, the way sunlight aches even through the curtains. I’ve officially turned, and just in time for finals. Surprise, surprise.

But that’s not the biggest twist.

I’m pregnant.

Caleb’s face lit up like some forgotten star when I told him. He’s over the moon. Giddy, even. It was… sweet. A little too sweet, maybe. But I’ll take it. Lilith? She said nothing. Just stared for a moment like she was trying to solve an equation in her head, and then walked away.

I can’t tell if she’s angry. Or disappointed. Or just... blank. That woman could out-pokerface a statue.

And Vlad won’t stop texting me. He’s like a persistent old bat-shaped app notification. Today’s message was about "Vampire Energy" and how I’ll literally burn to death if I’m outside during the day without it. So that’s comforting.

(I responded: “Daylight AND no Vampire Energy equals death. Got it.” Because apparently I’m a responsible undead adult now.)

I have three classes left. Graduation is days away. I’m married. Pregnant. Undead. Living with both Vatore siblings in a haunted mansion and having nightly cravings for plasma.

Honestly?

I’m thriving.

—Odessa 🖤

An Odessa Nyx Update

They say university changes you. For Odessa Nyx, it changed… everything.

She came to Britechester with a scholarship, a suitcase full of old books, and a plan: earn her distinguished Language & Literature degree, publish her poetry, and eventually marry into money (emphasis on eventually).

But “eventually” came fast—and with fangs.

A few terms in, Caleb Vatore stumbled into her life like a shy ghost in a trench coat. Gorgeous, awkward, broody… and conveniently wealthy. Their romance blossomed between rainy rooftop dinners and long nights at the library. When he proposed eternal devotion, Odessa proposed something simpler: marriage.

They said their vows in her overgrown backyard. She wore black, of course. He looked like he hadn’t seen sunlight in a century. Classic romance.

And then came the bite.

Not from Caleb.

Lilith Vatore—Caleb’s sister and shadow—cornered her in the kitchen with a smirk and sharp intent. “You’ll thank me later,” she whispered, before sinking her teeth in and offering her own wrist in return.

Odessa was still in her wedding dress when she first felt it: the burning under her skin, the whisper of power in her veins. The night after her wedding, she dreamed of bats and blood and a hunger she couldn’t name.

The texts started the next day. One from Vladislaus Straud himself:

“Greetings, child! My ancient plasma senses you have recently been turned…”

So. Yeah. Graduation’s in a week.

She’s still finishing her final paper on gothic archetypes, though the irony of that is not lost on her. And she still wants to publish her debut collection—working title: Love Letters for the Recently Undead.

She’s not sure where she stands with Caleb. Or Lilith. Or herself, honestly.

But one thing’s certain: Odessa Nyx is changing.

And she’s not planning to change back.

Odessa Nyx Traits: Bookworm, Recycle Disciple, Gloomy Aspiration: Nerd Brain

Odessa Nyx arrived in Forgotten Hollow with nothing but a dream, a tattered notebook, and an instinctive curiosity for the strange and the supernatural. A lover of books and hidden knowledge, she took refuge in the local library—where fate led her straight to The Encyclopedia Vampirica, Volume I. Now working as a freelance writer and crashing in a spare room Caleb Vatore set up for her, Odessa is slowly building a life through intellect and persistence. Despite her tendency toward melancholy, she finds comfort in learning and small acts of sustainability. She’s applied to university, but the creeping ailment that plagues her hints at a transformation even she doesn't yet understand...

Ayla Fernhart Traits: Loves Outdoors, Natural Living, Animal Enthusiast Aspiration: Outdoor Enthusiast Ayla walks barefoot because she likes to feel the world beneath her feet. With flowers in her hair and dirt on her hands, she’s a gentle spirit who thrives in the quiet rhythms of the natural world. Though she began with nothing but the clothes on her back and a crown of foraged greens, Ayla now tends to a modest garden beside the pond in Innisgreen. The days are cold, but her resolve is warm. She dreams of one day living in harmony with the land—perhaps as a fairy, or something even older.

Rowan Wilder , Ayla Fernhart and Odessa Nyx

The office always made Freddy a little… dimmer.

I’d see it in his shoulders first—tight, hunched like he was trying to shrink himself. Then in his eyes, flickering and unfocused from too much screen time and not enough sun. And when he sighed? The plants near his desk would droop in sympathy.

He never said it outright, but I knew. The job was suffocating him.

I think he tried to love it—for me, for Aurelia. For the idea that doing something “practical” meant he was being responsible. He never stopped being magical, though. Not really. Even in pressed shirts and coffee-stained spreadsheets, he was still Freddy. Still soft-voiced and sun-kissed, still the man who once bloomed under the moonlight and whispered to seedlings as if they were old friends.

Today, he couldn’t pretend anymore.

He turned away from the monitor mid-keystroke, staring out the window at our garden with this faraway look in his eyes. And then he said, “I can’t do this anymore.”

And just like that, it was done.

No long speeches. No apologies. Just a truth laid bare in the afternoon light.

I told him to stop pretending.

I told him to follow what feels like him.

He looked so relieved. I don’t think he’d realized how heavy it had all become—this mask he’d been wearing, day after day. And when I suggested he become a lifestyle coach, something lit up inside him. Like a match to dry leaves.

He laughed and said, “Grow with Freddy.” Gods help me, he’s already planning flyers.

I don’t care what he calls it. I just know I have my husband back.

Tomorrow, he’s going to build a new space by the garden. A place where he can meet with people, share his grounding rituals, teach mindfulness, and maybe even guide other green souls back to the sunlight like he once found his way back to me.

The office didn’t deserve him. But the world needs him.

And I think he’s finally starting to believe that, too.

— Sylva 🌸

🌙 Late Spring, Crescent Moon

Okay, I have to write this down because I am buzzing like a honeyglow moth right now.

I'm pregnant again!!! 😍✨

It still doesn’t feel real, even though I felt the flutter of magic all afternoon. That unmistakable spark deep in my belly—warm and gentle, but undeniably there. I honestly thought I was just a little off from not sleeping much lately (thanks, Aurelia, my little nighttime singer), but no… It’s real. There’s another tiny life blooming inside me.

And Freddy… oh gods, his face when I told him! I waited until the evening, when the fireflies were starting to dance through the moss outside our treehouse windows. He was still in that too-tight office shirt, pacing a little like he was going to say something serious again—probably still caught up in that silly fear that I’d leave him or something (he got that weird moodlet again today). We’d already talked about it. Hugged. Woohoo’d. A lot. 😅

So when I took his hand and placed it over my belly and told him we’re having another baby… his entire expression changed. Like every part of him lit up—green eyes wide, lips parted, total awe. Then he laughed. Freddy actually laughed! And I swear he glowed a little, even in human form.

We stood there for a long time, just swaying together. He kissed my forehead and said, “We’re really doing this, aren’t we?”

Yes. We are. And I can’t wait.

Aurelia is going to have a little sibling! She just learned to sit up on her own today during tummy time, and I’m so proud I could cry. She’s such a curious little sprout, always watching the birds out the window or trying to tug at Maple’s tail. (Poor Maple—she's taken to sleeping on the top bookshelf lately for safety.)

Our house in Innisgreen is going to feel even cozier soon. A little more magic. A little more love. I can already picture it: Freddy in the garden again where he belongs, Aurelia giggling in the high chair, and this next baby nestled close in my arms while I tell them stories about the Moonwhisper women and the tree that listens.

I’m going to bed with a full heart tonight. And maybe a snack. Okay, definitely a snack.

Goodnight, little one. I’m already dreaming of you. 🌸

—Sylva