#a wild dove art has appeared...!

[quailclaws]

little star ✨

[liketwoswansinbalance]

Rafal Has Baba Yaga Morality

I can't quite contain or explain my evil ways Or explain why I'm not sane All I can say is this is your warning

This one is less of a theory and more of an observation. It's also partway a "defense" of Rafal, but not really.

Note: The "you" referenced doesn't refer to anyone in particular. It's just the pov of a would-be victim, or the collective, generalized "you" that would form an audience.

⸻

Rafal has very "Baba Yaga," "The Scorpion and the Frog," "Dead Dove: Do Not Eat," "It's exactly what it says on the tin" morality, but that's not to say he's at all predictable. He's predictably unpredictable. He is the poisonous frog or bird, draped in naturally bright colors, that is very obviously toxic.

And no one believes him or his outward "labels" when they wrongly give him the uncalled for benefit of the doubt (probably because he's intentionally attractive)! And it usually works out in his favor! Which is a strength in a way. It's only the rare Good he does on occasion that leads people to believe otherwise, or think too highly of him, when really, he's flawed and human, humanly grey.

From there, we know he has the capacity to be both lethal and kind, like the figure of Baba Yaga in the tales:

"Baba Yaga is an ambiguous figure in many folktales and legends. While sometimes she is depicted as a cannibalistic, child devouring witch, other times she is a benevolent sorceress who assists the hero or bestows knowledge."

His morality is variable. He can be both Good and Evil when the situation calls for it. He is adaptable, flexible, and not 100% consistent like Baba Yaga is, not any one thing or role.

I've never read the source material, but this quote I've seen exemplifies him well:

“He is a weapon, a killer. Do not forget it. You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature.” ― Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles

As for the tale of "The Scorpion and the Frog," referenced in TLEA, he often doesn't lead people on. They do that all on their own with their assumptions and he reaps the benefits. Oftentimes, it's others' own faults for screwing themselves over. They know cognitively that he's Evil, but the fact doesn't actually register in their brains.

And that is a feat in itself, in their world, in the world he lives in. It is absolutely commendable in a perverse way, so I must applaud him at this point.

Despite not bothering to present himself, despite not caring about presentation (on a conscious level, if that's the lie he tells himself?), and despite presenting himself as the worst, at his personal worst, his poorer nature, he still surprises people with his humanity.

But, what they should never be surprised by is his Evil. You do not forget what a spear is capable of just because it's used as a walking stick for however long. You do not suddenly trust a ravenous, wild animal because it appears domesticated.

He steps forward as his worst self, his craftiest, least trustworthy self, that is artful and guileful and who will outwit you, who will outfox you, and you still trust him, while not managing to feel insane for doing so. Somehow, you're compelled to trust him, if only because he's so magnetic and attractive of a force, like a certain type of true Evil sometimes is, that charisma. He attracts people and doesn't repel them. Again, it's not always consciously his fault—it's just a quality to his very being.

And, if you still lie to yourself and think he's not using you after that, after glaring, flashing, blaring warning signs, you have only yourself to blame.

"Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."

Yet, in this particular case, even the first time, you haven't been fooled. You were never fooled. You just thought otherwise, awarded Rafal the benefit of the doubt, and played the fool.

You've only chosen to believe what you wanted to see and have led yourself astray. Because, he never fooled you. He was not the active agent in that last sentence. Read that line again, I ask you. He never fooled you.

You built your own illusions of him, in your mind, by your perceptions. You've painted Rafal differently than how he truly appears in his true form. You've laid your own bait, set your own trap, made your own bed, dug your own grave. It's often not entirely his "fault." (Unless, he's in conscious manipulation mode.)

That is why you are the author of your own misfortune, and he is not. He is "blameless," in that one regard. He is not whom you've made him into. Thus, never trust him is the moral here. And that is what everyone should know, if they ever want to beat Rafal at his own game.

Except Rhian. Rhian should have been the one person to trust Rafal, unlike all the rest. But the opposite happened. All the rest trusted him, and Rhian did not. (The irony!)

"And so it is written." You got exactly what you told him you wanted (if we go by "exact phrasing" logic, like with a rogue genie) or, alternatively, you got what he told you you'd get. He just outmaneuvered you.

The fascinating thing is: he never lies about what he is and whom he truly believes himself to be: Evil. It's his true nature (discounting his arc in Fall for a moment).

People can only blame themselves when they expect him to miraculously rise above and set his best foot forward. It just isn't what he does. And that's just like how the scorpion acts with the frog. The frog naively believed the scorpion would betray its own nature. But the scorpion is a scorpion. What else can you expect? Each of Rafal's victims had been too soft and idealistic about him.

He is an honest villain, a constructive villain, not a destructive one, as I once sort of coined the term, in an earlier post.

Once, in the Doom Room, Rafal even told Midas outright that he could offer Midas nothing, truthfully, aside from trying to get Midas home to Gavaldon. Probably, because in that moment, honesty would have served him better than a lie could have.

That is one thing I find strange and that I somewhat "admire," if you can say that about a clear-cut villain. For all he does, he is (almost always) straightforward and open with his plots. (Unless he withholds information, but that is not lying. Instead, such behavior falls under strategic lies of omission, a completely separate matter.)

It must be another trick up his sleeve, a weapon in mental arsenal. He is often open, clear, and honest about his intentions, say, with James and simply letting him die after he's served his purpose, at least. James wasn't kept the dark.

The point still stands. Rafal doesn't represent himself as something that he's not. Sure, he is a trickster, but he doesn't deny it, or lie about it.

He never leads people to believe he is someone he is not, or when he does, how much of it can you blame on him when everyone already knows he's the very public figure of the literal Evil School Master?

He owns his identity, (or what he sees himself as)—which is as close to the truth as he can realistically get because it's all he knows. He's not an omniscient being.

He does the "best" that he can, and he's usually not wrong about souls, others' souls, that is. Not his own. Apparently. But, few literary characters are capable of complete and total self-awareness, and Rafal is no exception to that. If he were 100% self-aware, the story wouldn't work. That said, I think he was more self-aware than Rhian, initially.

To reference the trickster archetype in relation to him again: he can really swing either way. Everything is up to his whims, impulses, or calculated designs, at any given moment, even if he appears to play "fair," meaning, usually, that he plays with interpretations, loopholes and the like, while staying within certain constraints.

He's not discreet like Evil Rhian had been for a stint. He had been proud of his Evil, to an extent. So, perhaps, that grants him a little leeway or likability. At the start, he simply isn't ashamed of himself, for working situations and people to his advantage (until his conscience catches up to him a little). His Evil is the high-flying banner he and his Nevers unite under; it's their common purpose/drive, to live and to strive for.

But, it always bears repeating: His reputation always precedes him as the Evil School Master.

So, again, you can't blame him for anything Evil he's done, can't pin it on being unexpected because it's always expected. You let your guard down. You can only justifiably be surprised when he does Good, and let that temper and moderate your expectations. (And the inverse of all this is probably why we sometimes might have expected too much, not too little, as is the case with Rafal, from poor Rhian.)

If Evil is what all have come to expect, like what James Hook expects from Rafal: a cold, soulless person, driven by deep villainous purpose, and Rafal doesn't directly tell anyone otherwise about his nature, no one can argue Rafal didn't play "fair," by those technical standards.

They knew exactly whom they were dealing with, and (unconsciously?) chose not to believe the man himself, the one who should know himself best.

By the Rules of Good or Evil, you expect him to be unpredictable, and you can call him out on being unpredictable because he's known for it. Known to commit atrocities, even when you seem to have trust between the both of you. That's why you can never tell.

I don't think Rafal actively encourages or cultivates trust in other people (unless it's a case of his deliberate manipulation). Part of the facade others perceive could just be his "trustworthy" aura.

And, people still expect better from him, implicitly! But how wrong they are. If nothing else, the misplaced trust probably stems from the aura he exudes as I can't think of another reason at the moment.

Because, like always, they put their trust in him—he didn't force them to hand it over—so, they have exactly themselves to blame, when they underestimate him, or think they can beat him.

That's why, in the end, I feel like the phrase: “It takes one to know one” applies really well to Rafal because he continually saves Rhian from being taken advantage of by men a lot like himself, considering how he constantly takes advantage of and uses others.

Now, I'll just leave you with this parting thought: as a villain, Rafal weaponizes the naivete and stupidity that is already there, already present in his victims. So, when Rhian sheds his naivete, he can no longer be used by his brother.

TLDR: Rafal is everyone else's "Vulcan" in a world full of trusting "Rhians."

[maniculum]

Bestiaryposting Results: Hratgrog

This week's installment is once again coming kind of late in the evening -- and a bit less wordy than usual -- because I just got back from the ICMS conference at Kalamazoo last night and have been running around doing stuff all day. So, sorry about that.

Anyway, also worth noting that a surprising number of people have indicated that they know this one.

If you aren't sure what this is about, you can find an explanation and previous posts at https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting.

You can also find the entry people are working from here:

If you want to participate in the next installment, you can find the entries posted under the tag maniculum bestiaryposting. Also, to make it easier on y'all, here's the current one:

Anyway, art below the cut in the order it was posted:

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) took the description of the animal's behavior and designed a bird who could feasibly fit that -- if you want the details on what birds went into this and why, they're in the linked post. I particularly like the iridescent effect on the feathers.

@sweetlyfez (link to post here) also drew a bird, but went in a different direction with the references, eschewing them entirely on the grounds that the monks probably didn't have any references on hand. I think the "colour of a wild sea" comes out well here.

@cheapsweets (link to post here) decided to resolve the issue of the wings being sapphire but also "sheathed in silver" by making the Hratgrog a beetle with silver elytra, which I think is quite clever. Again, the colors are very good in my opinion -- and as usual, you should check the linked post for an explanation of the design.

@coolest-capybara (link to post here) has, as per usual, done some amazing medieval stylization. I find this landscape really pleasant, birds aside. The design of the creature is also really solid, and you can find an interesting description of why it looks the way it does in the linked post. I would particularly draw attention to the interpretation of how this bird "does not live by theft", which you will have to click the link to find out.

@strixcattus (link to post here) gives us a bird that appears to be waving to us. Again, I like the coloration here; the many lines really add to the effect. Clicking the linked post will get you Strixcattus's modern interpretation of this animal, which includes a brief explanation of why it's necessary to specify that this bird does not eat corpses.

All right, to the Aberdeen Bestiary:

Or, rather, a dove.

(The distinction drawn between dove and pigeon in modern English is not formalized or universal, but the translation I'm using says "dove".)

The description for this page in the digitized manuscript notes:

This rather plain lifeless bird does not do justice to the luscious pictorial descriptions devoted to the dove on ff.26-30r. However, raking light reveals a lustrous silvered quality to the paint.

Since the description goes on so long -- like I said, I was excerpting bits of physical description from a lengthy sermon on symbolism -- there are actually multiple illustrations. It looks like there were originally four, but two have been cut out of the manuscript. The other surviving one is as follows:

That would be the Hratgrog on the left -- the bird on the right is its antagonist, the hawk. No word on why this one doesn't get any coloration.

Anyway... how do I end this one?

Go forth and contemplate the pigeon. It's what the bestiary author would want.

[raycatzdraws]

Love your Wind as a humming bird comic. Any ideas for what the others would change into?? (I think Time as a kitten or something adorable would be funny)

Thank you! Wind as a hummingbird is such a wonderful idea and I have to thank and give credit to @/winkwonkblog for the prompt! I didn't really do Wind as a hummingbird justice when it came to like, drawing him well, but I had fun playing with the idea of it.

As for dark world forms! The fandom's done a great job exploring this and I really like a lot of (at least what I think are?) the more common takes! My preferences have been influenced by all the pieces of fanart, fic, and discussion I've seen - so many pieces that are tried, true, and tested! - so I don't have much to add! I like what the fandom's come up with and enjoy seeing new interpretations. It's a great big collaboration with a bunch of coexisting ideas and I love that.

These are going to be familiar lol (and I'll include some recs too, as one does!)

Time - I agree that Time being a cat or something cute and fuzzy would be funny because it would clash so much with how he's presented in the comic! Let him be something soft and unassuming so he can use it to his advantage for shenanigans! Like Legend though, I think he'd dislike being so fragile. He needs claws or something. To be honest, the hero of time being a golden wolf has never really felt right to me. I see general oot/mm Link as more of an an owl or fox. However, his characterization in LU makes it fit and I appreciate that. It's gotten me to come around to it some.

Twi - Wolfie, yeah

Wild - coyote or deer

Sky - Remlit, goose, or dove (Failure and Fortitude by sister_dear and this art by luwyv, and Untitled Goose Fic by theScrap_Witch)

Warriors - Wars as a weasel or ferret! Something with very nice and pretty fur and very sharp teeth. The thought of Legend holding him up and slinkying him around is amusing. (it's much-too-late'o'clock for me so I get to make up words)

Legend - Rabbit (read this if you haven't !!!-> Not half Pawd by SongMina, as well as Tiny Adventures by Lightning of Farosh)

Four - Hummingbird, mouse, or cat (All of @/chrispy-chimkin's LU Wing AU! Just look at Four!!! Look at him!!! &lt;3 &lt;;3 <3 See also Feline Fatale by Seeking7 and Usagisama68)

Wind - Seagull! (Again, Chris' wing au, but also @/layraket's creatures gang, and A Pear and a Portal by glowingjellyfishtreelights)

Hyrule - I'm not really sure! My joke answer is an okapi. Maybe a badger! idk! he's a dragonfly-winged fairy idk about an animal form for him. A coyote or gray fox, a brown-colored medium sized bird, something like that. Sorry I don't have the most inspired answers haha. I imagine Hyrule's Hyrule (in Zelda 1) as california chaparral so I think he'd be some kind of creature that lives there. I can tell you what kind of tree he'd be!!! Hyrule would be a ribbonwood tree (aka redshanks)! Ribbonwood bounces back quickly after wildfires, with the leaves sprouting again even after being all burned off. The bark that falls away from the tree comes off in strips or "ribbons" that are soft but scratchy and brittle when dried out. that give the tree a kind of whipsy appearance. It's wild and wiggly (I'm all out of adjectives at the moment) and very much a part of the landscape, a piece that ties it all together. The smooth bark underneath is a deep red and cool to the touch. The earthy red and vivid yellowing-green color is suiting. If you cup the leaves in your hands and breathe on them they release a soft rain-like smell. I'm just really passionate about Hyrule and this tree and ecosystem ahsfdhas do you see the low shrubs and parched dirt and the scrambling rocks and the mountains!!! the dry and hot and high altitude and dense shrubbery impassable to find hidden paths through! so much green no stranger to fire!!!!

[mamavino]

Esmeralda

Name: Esmeralda

Age: 28

Appearance:  She has dark honey skin with a radiant, warm undertone. Her eyes are striking emerald green, vibrant and expressive. Her hair is dark brown / black waves cascading down to her waist, often slightly wild but charming.  She is  5'7" (170 cm).  She dresses in vibrant yet elegant outfits with hints of her circus roots, often in warm tones and vibrant greens. Esmeralda always carries her tarot cards in a small, decorated pouch.

Magic/Abilities:  Tarot Card Magic: Esmeralda uses enchanted tarot cards that allow her to guide others, foresee possible outcomes. Each card serves a unique guiding purpose. She never knows whats coming.

Backstory:  Born in a circus, Esmeralda learned the art of tarot card magic from her mother, growing up in an environment filled with illusion and performance. At 16, she left the circus, after the death of her father and lived as a con artist, using her charm and magical talents. She told rich people they would be robbed. Bid guidance, and they were always surprised to be robbed by Esemeralda herself. Anyhow, she had predicted that it would happen. However, her deceptive life caught up with her, leading to imprisonment. During this time, Fuegoleon Vermillion began visiting her every first moon, and over time, the two formed a close bond. After being released from prison, Esmeralda took part in an undercover mission at the circus but chose to stay with Fuegoleon afterward. The two married in secret (she is not very popular with some nobles), and Esmeralda found herself building new friendships, including a deep connection with Charlotte Roselei.

Relationships:   Fuegoleon Vermillion: The only man Esmeralda has ever loved. Their relationship is built on mutual respect and deep affection. Fuegoleon is the steady rock in her life, and their secret marriage reflects their commitment to one another.

Charlotte Roselei: Esmeralda’s closest friend. She often teases Charlotte about her shy feelings for Yami, but beneath her playful nature, Esmeralda admires and supports Charlotte's strength.

Yami Sukehiro: Esmeralda loves poking fun at Yami for being oblivious to Charlotte’s feelings. Despite her teasing, she has respect for Yami's abilities.

Dove: Esmeralda's dear friend from the circus, who remains close to her heart despite Esmeralda leaving the circus behind. Their bond is deep and sisterly. 

Kids: Esmeralda and Fuegoleon will have 3 kids in the future Pyramus is their first born son and will have his father's magic, he is a lot like his mother, playfull. But he can be serious and proud too. He will become the crimson captain.

Second born is Danior, he is more free, he will travel, see the world. His life is one big adventure. He also has fire magic.

And then their daughter Ileana, she has a combination of her parents magic. She can summon up magic with cards. But also spirits if she is lucky in her draw. She will become a magic knight,  but she is really busy with boys. She is a big flirt. Her father is not so happy about it. Her most loved to flirt with Floris, the son of Yami and Charlotte. 

Fun Facts:   - Esmeralda carries her tarot cards wherever she goes and believes they guide not just others but her own path.  

- She’s an expert at reading people, often knowing their intentions before they speak.  

- Her playful flirtation with Fuegoleon started as a joke, but she quickly fell deeply in love with him.  

- She finds great amusement in teasing Charlotte about Yami and often gives romantic advice that’s more playful than practical.  

- Even though she no longer works as a con artist, Esmeralda’s quick thinking and charm remain her greatest strengths in tricky situations. 

[ghostpoetics]

The Picture of Dorian Gray is interesting. Oscar Wilde was a part of aestheticism, or "art for art's sake." This was pretty big because in Victorian England, art was often meant to serve a function; this isn't a new idea. Often, the function was to be didactic, or to prescribe a moral lesson.

That said, I would argue that there is a theme in Dorian Gray about Victorian standards of beauty. There is a strong irony in Dorian being the epitome of (racist, white supremacist) beauty standards: fair skin ("looks as if he was made out of ivory and rose leaves"); "crisp gold hair"; "frank" blue eyes. The irony is because Victorians associated being beautiful with being a good person and being outside this standard with being a bad person. They often used phrenology and physiognomy (most evident in Stoker's description of the Count in Dracula) to tell the reader whether someone is good or bad. And of course, using someone's facial features and the size and shape of one's forehead, nose, etc. to determine whether someone is good or bad has its roots in racism, xenophobia, and antisemitism.

Therefore, there is a disruption of Victorian preconceptions when Dorian fixates on maintaining his youth and beauty and is assumed to be virtuous because of his appearance when he is a horrible, callous person.

That is to say that I think a take on Dorian Gray that explores the beauty/fashion industry would work very well, given how so many of these companies perpetuate unrealistic and negative standards. Dove was being applauded for its body positivity in an ad a while ago, alongside its insistence that it wants to promote self-esteem and good body image, but they reject potential models with any acne or too many freckles. While Dove speaks about being inclusive and promoting women of color, so many of these companies, including Dove, sell skin-lightening creams in countries like India; they promote the idea that light skin is more attractive than dark skin. Unfortunately, there are horrible ways the modern fashion and beauty industries mirror imperialistic Victorian values that, with the right creators, could be explored well in a contemporary Dorian Gray adaptation.

Unfortunately, I was already cynical about any and all Netflix book adaptations, and, regarding the author's biography and the book's themes, I feel like Dorian Gray cannot be removed from its queerness, despite statements such as the PinkNews article, which says, "While The Picture of Dorian Gray isn't explicitly queer, given that it was first published in 1890..."

I would take umbrage with the author's definition of "explicitly queer," given that the book was submitted as evidence of Wilde's "gross indecency" in the counter lawsuit that sent him to prison and shortened his life through years of hard labor and an injury he sustained that later developed into fatal meningitis. Despite Wilde's edits to "restrain" the book's queerness, it was explicit enough to be used as evidence to prove Wilde's homosexuality. I think it's a mistake that highly limits the history of queer art to reduce "explicitly queer" to only depictions of kissing and sex.

Anyway, those are my rambling thoughts about the Dorian Gray Netflix adaptation. Besides the brother thing, I was already skeptical because it's Netflix...

[hp-fruit-fest]

HP Fruit Fest 2023

Welcome to the first (of hopefully many!) HP Fruit Fest! While the HP fandom has had a bountiful harvest of fics for many years, there is not nearly enough to sate us peckish fruit fanatics!

🍊 The Ap-peel:

Stress free fest! Few restrictions apply.

Are you interested in the symbolism of fruit? The aesthetic? The yumminess? This fest promises inspiration aplenty!

Do you like your fruit sweet or sour? Or even spicy? Go wild! The only real limit is your imagination, friends!

Ship & Kink positive! No ship or kinkshaming here, baby!

Non-anonymous posting.

No hard deadline. Just post to the collection anytime this spring, March 20 - June 21.

🍑 Fest Rules:

Participants must be 18 years or older. While the fest is not aimed towards explicit content, with the lack of content restrictions, I feel most comfortable having an age restriction.

No word count minimum or maximum. Do you wanna write a durian drabble? Or a lingonberry longfic? Don't let me stop you!

Must feature appearance of whole fruit. If you want to turn it into jam or juice or pie, feel free! But at least give us a glimpse of raw beauty, please and thank you!

No content restrictions (on fic.) All fics must be thoroughly tagged. But if you wanna write some feel good fluff or a dead dove monstrosity, that's entirely up to you! I only ask that you tag all content to the best of your ability. If you have any questions or concerns about this, you can email me at hpfruitfest@gmail.com.

Art restrictions apply (for legal reasons.) No explicit depictions of underage characters.

All fan creations allowed. Fic? Art? Podfic? Bookbinding? Other arts and crafts? Follow wherever your muse leads! The fest will run on AO3 and Tumblr to allow for all the goodies.

May combine with other events. If other fests/events are cool with it, I'm cool with it!

Self-prompting allowed. There will be a selection of fruit specific prompts (per the mod), and prompting will open to the public for more specific fruity scenarios, but as long as it as fruit in it, that's all that matters! If no existing prompt tickles your fancy, go for whatever does!

All works must be betaed. Or SPaG checked at the very least. We want this experience to be enjoyable for everyone, so please make sure those fruits ✨ shine ✨!

If you need a beta, please let us know and we'll help find one for you!

You must sign up to participate. A sign up form will be posted March 1. Please sign up if you want to prompt or create. Even if you're not sure you will prompt or create, if you even think about it, please sign up. This is just to ensure I can contact you if needed, for either the prompt or the creation.

🥭 Timeline

March 1: Mod Prompts go live. (here)

March 1: sign ups open. (here)

March 1 - 20: open prompting. (here)

March 20: posting opens.

June 21: posting ends.

Also: Join our Discord server!

Also also: FAQs

May the fruits be ever in your flavor!

[pleistocene-pride]

Columba livia, better known as the rock dove, the rock pigeon, rats with wings, or the common pigeon, is a member of the dove and pigeon family Columbidae, and the wild ancestor of the domestic pigeon (Columba livia domestica), which includes about 1,000 different breeds. Common pigeons are initially native to mainland Europe, North Africa, the middle east, india, and parts of central asia, where they inhabit rock formations including cliffs, canyons, caves, buttes, and outcrops near water and open vegetation. Common pigeons where first domesticated at least 5,000 years ago with some evidence pointing to as early as 10,000 years ago, and domestic pigeons have a long history of being raised for meat, eggs, as pets, and famously to carrying messages across long distances in the form of carrier pigeons. Because of this humans ended up bringing pigeons with them where ever they traveled, particularly during the age of sail, meaning that the common pigeon has near global distribution often residing in villages, towns, and cities where they utilize buildings for shelter and nesting sites. Common pigeons are gregarious living in flocks of 50 to 500 birds. They are omnivorous feeding upon a variety of nuts, grains, seeds, fruits, worms, insects, arachnids, as well as discarded human food. Common pigeons are common prey for various raptors, sea birds, raccoons, carnivorous marsupials, reptiles, and felines. Reaching 11 to 15 inches (29 to 37cms) in length, 8.4 to 13.4 ounces ( 238 to 380g) in weight, with a 24 to 28 inch (62 to 72cm) wingspan, the common pigeon typically sports a dark bluish-grey head, neck, and chest with glossy yellowish, greenish, and reddish-purple iridescence along its neck and wing feathers.A grayish to black beak with a off-white cere and purplish red feet. However centuries of domestication have greatly altered the rock dove, and individuals may appear in all manner of colors and patterns. The rock dove breeds at any time of the year, but peak times are spring and summer. They are a typically monogamous species which mates for life, however these birds may form bonds with more than one mate occasionally resulting in trios or quartets. Nesting sites are along rock faces, as well as the artificial structures like buildings. The nest is a flimsy platform of straw, sticks, and other materials built on a ledge where 2 eggs will be laid then incubated by each parent for 17 to 19 days. After hatching the young are cared for by there parents until they fledge at around 30 days. Under ideal conditions a common pigeon may live upwards of 15 years.

Art used can be found at the following links

[ryker-writes]

Hi hi Ryker! First off; congrats on the milestone! Also make sure you give yourself some breaks, drink plenty of water, and touch some grass.

~ The information ~

Name: Dove (feeling silly, wanted to include it)

Likes: Autumn (weather, atmosphere, food, clothing), cats, sharks, crocodilians, snakes, antiques/vintage items (I have a few), cleaning, the colour green, funky earrings, cursive handwriting, bodies of water, old-growth forests, bumble bees, chunky knit blankets, the smell of cinnamon, candles, fossils/cool rocks in general, comfy clothes BUT they're also professional, queer culture.

Dislikes: People who don't clean up after themselves in main living areas (I don't care if it's their bedroom, just pick up your stuff p l e a s e). Crowds. Putting my hands in water while washing dishes (sensory thing, I wear gloves). Yelling, sudden loud sounds in general actually. HEIGHTS, terrified of heights. Not having my work recognized (like chores, the effort I put into IRL tasks). Really hot & humid weather... and also winter. Oh, also I hate bigots.

Hobbies: Writing, reading, knitting, crocheting (new hobby right there), collecting (rocks, glass jars, pens, notebooks, cool knick-knacks, some cursed items in that they give people psychic damage), nature walks, swimming, making funky earrings, bugging moots on the internet, cleaning (just not my room x-x), cooking (average cook, but I enjoy it), tarot, learning about stuff (mainly nature related, but also art history and history in general), listening to music, singing, dancing

Physical & Personality Preferences: I don't care about physical appearance, as long as they are happy in their own skin and being themself, that is enough. As for personality? Someone honest, as I have a hard time detecting lies. Comfortable being wholly themself and taking up space. Who is both comfortable giving and receiving support.

Love Languages: I tend to give quality time, acts of service, and parallel play. Receiving? Quality time & parallel play (physical touch is iffy, but probably in there as well)

Other Fun Stuff IG:

I'm 166 cm tall (in case there's a height difference).

A chronic older sibling who forgets to reach out for help/support (I'm working on it).

My aesthetic or vibe has been described as cottage-core, and you know what, I'll take it. I dress more dark academia, splashed in with some art hoe though ^v^

I know my entire natal chart, but I'll just share my big 3; Cancer Sun, Scorpio Moon (Moon in 12th House), Scorpio Rising (Mars & Pluto in 1st House)

Personality: I tend to be honest to a fault, and blunt; I like getting to the point and making sure that I am understood. At first, I'm friendly and a bit aloof when getting to know people, but I become warmer as I get comfortable with people and can chat your ear off if you allow me to infodump about a shared interest (I once spent a 2-hour bus ride talking non-stop about Pleistocene mammals). I have been called an encyclopedia with the amount of stuff I know and IDK why my brain remembers the stuff it does. (based on my IRL personality)

Hopefully, that's enough information... or at least not too overwhelming ^v^ Take your time Ryker!!!

Thank you so much Dove! I'm trying to pace myself with these requests and take care of myself so don't worry! I hope you don't mind but I'm going to casually ignore the natal chart thing because I don't know anything about that (and honestly I'm scared to learn)

"Dove! I'm so wonderful you decided to come in for this! I'm also glad to learn more about you, and I feel I know exactly who to put with you. You have a lot of variety in your likes and hobbies, and that's a great trait! I only felt it natural to pair you with someone who also has some variety and can appreciate it all!

A great appreciator of all types of things...sounds a lot like Rook right?"

It takes a certain type of person to be with Rook, and somehow I get the vibes that you can do it! He's a wild one, but somehow I think that works with you.

pls Rook loves everything you do

he tries to find beauty in everything, and you help with that!

anything you make is absolutely beautiful and he loves it and shows it off with pride

he even goes into extensive detail about the little things he likes about each piece

he adds to your collections whenever he sees a new piece you don't have ✨

he calls you "ma petite colombe" (my little dove)

quality time and parallel play? Rook has you covered

he loves to be near you and doing your own things and he will often glance over at you and admire your beauty

cottage core or dark academia, he loves you no matter your aesthetic and thinks all of them are equally appealing with you

you don't have to reach out for support from him, he has a sixth sense for you when you need support

pls infodump on him he welcomes it and will remember everything you tell him

you two are like wild cards of information who love to share with each other and I can see you two just rambling about something random for hours without stopping

I see a duo of chaos and love

[aerisleis-fics]

2023 Writing in Review

I did an ao3 wrapped thing and mostly this is closer to the art wrapped where its one piece from each month. Some months don't have pieces (and that's okay.) I also kind of want to take a moment to reflect on what I hope to accomplish next year and what I (feel like I) accomplished this year. That'll all go at the end.

Total number of works posted this year topped out at 36 choosing one work for each month was hard as hell. But I tried to choose the one I was most proud of or felt like I did something that stretched my skill in. This feels long so under a cut it goes.

January-March: Nothing posted. Creative hibernation, if you will.

April: Nightmares and Horrors (RWBY) Speculative Post Volume 8 ending. Ruby wakes up alone in an unfamiliar world, wounded, tired, and terrified. It doesn't get a lot better from there.

May: Aligned Between Us (FFVII) Zack and Cloud finally have a real conversation about everything. Also featuring Tifa being a good friend!

June: Beginning Where We Ended (FFVII) Instead of waking up in the church after his (near) death at the hands of Sephiroth’s remnants, Cloud wakes up on the wasteland outside of Midgar over two years before. Zack faces down Shinra’s infantry, and Cloud finds he has the strength to change history.

But to do that, Cloud has to face it all again, while warring with his own splintered psyche. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to do it alone, if only he’d remember that.

July: Moments of Peace (FFVII) Quick meeting with Reeve of the WRO and Tseng of the Turks, and then the Boys have a Night in the Costa Del Sol home before the rest of their trip.

August: Unrealistic Expectations (FFXV) After nearly failing the trial of the Tidemother, Noctis stands precariously balanced between his duty, his emotions, and his body’s need for rest. The Prince fails to heed Lunafreya’s warning about taking it easy, and his friends find the hard way that Noctis hasn’t been truthful with them.

September: What Makes a Monster (FFVII) With only hours separating Zack from the massacre of Nibelheim, he does the best he can to stop it from happening.

October: Saving the Hero (FFVII) A pair of scenes centering in on Sephiroth saving Zack, and Zack - in his own way - saving Sephiroth in return.

November: Recordings for Sleeping (FFVII) At first it had been disheartening - was he that boring to talk to? But over time, Zack had come to understand that it wasn’t that it was boring. It was that Sephiroth had come to associate Zack talking with a sense of peace and the fact that things were okay, so he could relax - and, subsequently, could rest. It was incredibly touching, now that Zack understood it better.

December: Pause, Rewind, Restart (FFVII) Cloud and Marlene are visiting the church when they find themselves pulled backward into the past. With no way back home, Cloud sets himself to doing the best he can to make sure that this future goes better than the one they came from because he can't just do nothing.

Reflections

This year was kind of wild, I ended up absolutely hip deep in a fandom I have loved for a really long time but avoided for a number of reasons. And I didn't just wade in slowly, no I dove right in and I'll admit I'm kind of having the time of my life. As can... probably seen by the sheer number of fics for that specific fandom that I've posted. I crossed the 75 fic marker this year! And I'm so close to the 100 fic marker that I'm vibrating. It feels big it feels like I've accomplished something.

In the new year I want to get better at interacting on my social media again. I want to post snippets and thoughts and ideas rather than just appearing for long enough to like. Drop the newest fic and disappearing into the void. I also, of course, look forward to writing (and finishing!) more projects. I've still got a lot sitting in wip land that I look forward to sharing with everyone.

I don't know what 2023 will hold but I'm thankful for all the support so far and I look forward to seeing where it brings me next year.

[ediblepansy]

Name: Robin “Robbie” Marion, son of Aphrodite

Age: 26

Familiar: “bird” the dove

Hair: Dark brown, short and curly Eyes: Hazel

Height: 6’1”

Place of birth: Los Angeles, CA

Sexuality: Bisexual

Appearance: Robin prefers a clean shaved look, but while hanging out with Kit or on a conquest he’ll let a stubble or beard grow in. After turning 17, Rob started his physical transformation to better his performance in public and on the field. His strength and intelligence are his favored attributes, some may know him for his equally affirmed loud opinions. He’s no longer a wallflower. Around camp, Robin usually dresses for the part with thick warm jackets, tees, and jeans that wont get in the way. Some of the leather bound warriors don’t approve of his ankle revealing sneakers, however. He doesn’t wear jewelery with the exception of a wrist watch for fancy occasions. 

Talents: Robin is a genius when it comes to online presence. It was a safe space for him at a young age and he sort of blossomed there long before he had at camp. Now, he runs a cam girl/boy business that has been very lucrative and aided in his independence. Be it his own stubborness or the inspiration he found in other demigods, a great deal of his ambition went into the business. Fortunately, it’s paid off. For work and friends, Robbie has learned Spanish to be bilingual. While growing up, he grew to care for communities that lack priviledge including the disabled. He does his part to donate funds to charities, predominantly because he does not like bullies. Robin enjoys dancing, of all kinds. He loves to solo travel and do exactly what he wants as long as he wants. Reading is also a passion of his, he tries to read at least one book per week—but this isn’t always acheivable. Art interests him, studying strategy, and physical training. He prefers doing the latter for himself, rather than “the cause” however.

Early days: Robin arrived at camp when he was 12 years old. Scrawny, crying and wearing glasses. Now, he’s a far cry from the kid you might have met back then. Kit was his first friend and between life on earth or at camp, Rob’s shown up for him and vice versa. This includes the occasional Kit bail out charge. Nico is the demigod who gave Robin his scar, when he was 17 due to an armory accident. Robin has some admiration for Evan due to the son of Ares pure passion and ambition, Rob’s taken the same approach toward his own business. Harlan and Robin have always had an understanding in common regarding their outlook on being born demigods. Since Harlan’s wiggled his way into Rob’s life via befriending Kit, Robin has somewhat turned the other cheek. Though he hopes it’s clear that he was with Kit first. So.

Bio: Robin appeared in Camp Halfblood during his twelth year. His natural dark curls were cropped short, as a convenience to his human caretakers. Unremarkable, sniffles were hidden behind tight fists and reading glasses. Here he was, at last, to face the still distant presence of his estranged mother. An all mighty Goddess. He was never entirely “game” in confronting destiny. Playing the role seemed like a ridiculous farce. A few fellow demigods proved him wrong by earning their merit year after year, while others relied entirely on a name for their whole identity. Still, Robin had no interest in proving anything to the gods. Instead, he remained desperate to earn his immediate fathers love and pride. After turning sixteen, Robin found himself caught in a wild romance with an older man. For the first time in his life the he felt truly alive and special. He couldn’t see that he was just stuck in an old pattern, a desire for validation. Finally, he received it, but the affair didn’t last. Robbie was abandoned and left to pick up the pieces. Again. (This affair remains a secret, he never speaks of it.) It was after this experience that his old facade of the weak outcast was abandoned. Robbie built a tall wall between himself and the world. He stood up for himself, became loud, opinionated. Strength and knowledge were what he craved, and if he couldn’t find that at camp he would create it on earth. Over the last few years, Robbie started and managed his own cam girl/boy online service. Since coming of age, he dedicated time to himself and the success. A proper distraction while Robin’s family pulled further away from him. Due to the lingering danger attached to his birth right. He is a tough man, but if a friendship is earned Robin will be loyal and protective.

Extra notes:

He’s never “been with” or hooked up in camp. All of his affairs happen on earth with humans who are emotionally expendable and have no skin in the game.

Robin can be found at Kit’s greenhouse regularly, reading.

If a demigod proves their worthiness by their own merit, they will usually earn Robin’s respect. Not that he’ll make that known.

Did I mention Robin hates bullies?

Robin didn’t grow up with pets and in his adult life didn’t have time for them. “bird” is his first exception, though it wasn’t really a choice and bird’s not exactly a pet.

[bloodybloob]

Haven't really drawn much today so I came up with ideas for the more godly forms for Legend, Sky, Twilight, and Time.

Ngl I leaned in real heavy with the misty cloud idea for Legend, but I couldn't find a way to make his hair taper off into mist that looked satisfying, so I gave his a veil instead. On his mask, the golden marking are meant to look like his fringe and those sticking up things are supposed to imitate real fluffy rabbit ears.

Sky's design is based off of a dove which symbolises freedom and love and I went hard into the bird theming tbh. The more flowery patterns are meant to be roses.

Twilight is more heavily inspired by the Twili and Midna and he wears a wolf skull that has a pelt connected similarly to hair like in Wild's Barbarian armour.

Time was basically meant to be a reality bending god, so his skin flows around his bones and looks like very thin clothing. Behind his veil, his face is supposedly so terrifying and uncomfortable to look at, he covers his face even when he's with the other gods. It's supposed to make his face more humanoid, but the FD-like markings still shine through the veil for the only reason that it looks cool.

Oh yeah and the face covers! Their faces are so terrifying to mortals, they have to cover them up with masks or veils to actually be able to conduct business - especially for Legend who appears in his original form in mortals' dreams. It would probably only be Wild that wouldn't remove his mask/veil because he can't alter his burns and is prob quite ashamed or has some kind of hatred for them.

(And yes all of them coincidentally have sharper nails/talons/claws and the only other person who does that isn't drawn is Hyrule bc he's got that real elegant nymph energy. Literally noone else has them.)

GDHFNWJSNSNCNCNNC RUSS!!!!! Holy hejdndnfjcj I love your art so much thank you so much. I especially am in love with Sky’s design AAAAA, stop trying to make me straight with these boyshshdbdndn

I do plan on making their designs, I’m trying out stuff rn but these are probably going to be incorporated in some way.

I like the hiding face idea, I may use that for some of them, like looking at Sky’s face can give you intense emotions or extreme empathy, or maybe looking at Wind can make the air around you sound like it’s singing.

[fatehbaz]

hi maybe you’ve written about this before but i’m working for someone who is part of the ecological landscape alliance and we’ve been having big talks about the concept of “invasive” species vs “native” plants and how the concept is rooted in xenophobia, and also talking about how maybe invasive plants aren’t that bad?? this goes against everything i’ve ever heard anyone talk about invasive species but i really don’t know all that much about it. sounds silly maybe coming from a farmer but i really don’t have a super firm ecological understanding, most of my plant knowledge is agricultural based and im really curious to learn more and was hoping you could point me in the right direction?

Yes, I definitely run into this disk horse all the time. Especially the “maybe invasive plants aren’t that bad” discussion. It seems the native/alien stuff is most often mentioned in disk horse about the Anthropocene. Basically, you’ll sometimes see statements like: “Is anything really natural in the Anthropocene?” I have also seen, and spent a lot of time contemplating, how belief in the categories of “natural” and “alien/invasive” in discussion of ecology might be rooted in or at least inadvertently support racism/xenophobia.

But I am still wary of the “native vs alien” and “no creature or landscape is really natural, not any more” disk horse, at least as explored by some white/settler-colonial academics, for exactly the same reasons: because it might be rooted in or support racism/xenophobia. Because the proposal that “nothing is native, nothing is invasive” itself can actually engage in a sort of “settler absolution” that obscures how there really is a contrast between imperial and Indigenous peoples, and the “nothing is natural, nothing is invasive” proposal could excuse the colonial/imperial introduction and expansion of monoculture by accepting the spread of industry/agriculture/non-native species as an inevitability. And these concepts can actually work to generalize conditions of ecological degradation and apocalypse, as if to say that “all humans now live in such a damaged world, we’re all victims” (even though many non-white, especially Indigenous, people actually bear most of the violence and burden of living in “post-apocalyptic” ecologies.)

But actually, I don’t think I can be too helpful here.

I still have a lot of contemplating to do, about how categories of natural/invasive in ecology might support the violence of categorizing people as natural/invasive. Don’t really know where I stand yet, y’know? So I don’t want to be too quick to come to a conclusion. I don’t even really want to offer opinions here. That said, I am very sensitive to language, and the language that I use. So I do appreciate that there is an effort to interrogate the negative consequences of describing things with words like “alien”. Also, the categorizing of lifeforms is and always has been a mess.

I don’t have many reading recommendations. The “native vs alien” and “nothing is really native, actually” proposals are concepts that I brush up against but don’t read too deeply into, even though this disk horse has been popular-ish in dark ecology and academic ecology/environmental studies circles for at least 10 years or more by now.

I guess, for my thoughts on native vs alien, what counts as “natural”, invasive species, and how the disk horse can excuse settler-colonial/imperial racism, I would point to this post I made about Pablo Escobar’s feral hippopotamuses in Colombia.

One introduction to the concept, which I think is an enjoyable read (though I don’t necessarily agree with all of his implications), is this essay by Hugo Reinert about the category of “natural” and the “purity” of a species: “Requiem for a Junk-Bird: Violence, Purity and the Wild.” Cultural Studies Review. 2019.

Anna Boswell’s very famous article about stoats and non-native species in Aotearoa kind of dances around this same issue of naturalness: “Settler Sanctuaries and the Stoat-Free State.” Animal Studies Journal. 2017.

-------

Generally, I agree with the implication that there is no “remote” or untouched corner of the planet where ecology has escaped human influence.

On that aspect, here’s a post I made about “planetary urbanization”.

But the native/alien disk horse can be extended to problematique degrees, with proposals that sometimes remind me of sci-fi goofiness, like fans of dark ecology or weird fiction or Mieville/Van der Meer got a little too excited about “the boundary between human and other-than-human has become so blurred that there may as well no longer be distinctions between native species and invasive species”, like they got a little too drunk on theory and just decided that “everything is in flux!”. Criticisms, then, of the “nothing is native” disk horse include how this oversimiplifies ecology and might enable/excuse settler-colonial invasion.

A lot of the “invasive plants are good, actually!” disk horse I’ve seen shows up in Australian literature written by settler scholars, which might be pretty telling.

Basically, it seems some scholars will take Alfred Crosby’s “neo-Europe” and “ecological imperialism” concepts, and then say something like “look, the damage is done, so much of Earth’s soils/landscapes are altered by introduced plants that we may as well accept it as the new baseline/normal ecology, and work from there.” As if to point at how North America has been entirely overrun by non-native earthworms and then to say “well, the worms are going to inevitably destroy hardwoods forests, soils of the Great Lakes region, the boreal-temperate transition zone, and maple trees which supply place-based maple syrup foodsheds, so we may as well accept that we live in a damaged world.”

I don’t know if I’m entirely satisfied with this.

-------

Other related concepts brought up in the same  discussion of “nothing is really native” might include “invasion biology” and “assisted migration.” I see these concepts brought up in academic writing from the University of California system, Australia, Aotearoa/New Zealand, and “environmental humanities” generally. Basically, these writers/scholars will point to the past ten thousand-ish years of the Holocene, and how humans have had such profound influence on global ecology that “introduction of non-native species” and “mass-scale anthropogenic climate/ecological change” are not just recent developments since Industrial Revolution or Indus/Yellow/Mesopotamian statecraft, but even older. For example, I’ve talked a lot about how, in the Late Pleistocene or early Holocene, the Asiatic steppes and parts of the Great Plains could have apparently been more like intermittent woodlands before humans engaged in deliberate fire-setting to better target megafauna herds, meaning that the human role in creation of vast “naturally-occurring” grassland regions may be underestimated. This dove-tails with the better-established fact that the forests of Central America and eastern North America in the early Holocene were/are actually more like cultivated food forests managed by Indigenous people.

The argument, then, may also point to yams, sweet potato, and coconut as examples of creatures with what now appear to be “old” and “established” widespread transoceanic distribution ranges which actually may have been introduced via assisted migration by humans.

The argument, basically, says: Well, let’s say hypothetically that humans didn’t play a role in spreading sweet potato or coconut. By chance, if ocean currents “naturally” introduced these species, if these plants “naturally” colonized whatever lands they were swept off towards, doesn’t this mean they could essentially be “natural” to anywhere they might arrive and successfully establish themselves? Therefore, does it really matter if humans helped them get there?

This seems to be related to the “no plants are actually invasive” proposal. As if to say: “If English pasture grasses have successfully reproduced themselves in Patagonia, Aotearoa, South Africa, the Canadian prairies, etc., what does it mean that their migration was assisted by humans?”

But this is where I have reservations: It wasn’t just any humans that “assisted the migration” of monoculture grasses from Europe to the prairies of Turtle Island. It was specific humans, with deliberate intent, upholding specific institutions, protecting their own well-being at the expense of other humans and lifeforms, enacting specific violence against specific victims.

-------

Another aspect of this which I see mentioned often is how early human/Polynesian settlement in Oceania and the South Pacific is an example of how mass anthropogenic ecological change doesn’t always involve statecraft, mass mono/agriculture, and imperialism. Aside from the famous decline of creatures like the moa, Polynesian islands were also home to relict species of large land turtles and ancient terrestrial/semi-arboreal crocodiles until human arrival in recent millennia. Writers will also point to human settlement in the Caribbean, where human arrival coincided with extinction of remnant populations of endemic Pleistocene ground sloths. (This also happened on Mediterranean islands, which hosted endemic species of hippopotamus and goats until recent millennia.)

Again, though, this is where white/settler-colonial academics advocating “nothing is natural” can kind of obscure settler-colonial violence, by pointing to history of anthropogenic environmental change and saying “see, all humans provoke extinction.”

Thus, you’ll see these scholars invoke Anna Tsing or Donna Harraway, referencing the “arts of living on a damaged planet” or “living in post-capitalist ruins.” Essentially, advocates of “nothing is native, any more” might say “we all live in a post-apocalyptic world now, so we should get used to it.”

This, coming from white/settler-colonial academics, sometimes rubs me the wrong way, as if it’s sort of like wish-fulfillment, or “an adventure” for comfortable white academics to engage in low-stakes thought experiments about extinction, naturalness, and apocalypse from which they’re actually largely insulated, at least compared to the poor, non-white, non-academic people who cope with the worst of environmental racism and ecological collapse.

This, again coming from white/settler-colonial academics, is also of course more than a little grating, since it kind of co-opts or culturally appropriates the “Indigenous/Native people actually live in a post-apocalyptic world” concept proposed by Indigenous scholars. It kind of takes from Indigenous/non-white people, and then generalizes the apocalypse as something that all humans now live with in seemingly equal measure, obscuring the fact that many people are actually forced to cope and/or live with more-serious-of-an-apocalypse than others.

-------

At the end of the day: Sure, kudzu or English pasture grasses or coconuts or European earthworms or domesticated cattle might be generalist species which can successfully inhabit landscapes across the planet. So whether humans introduce them via agriculture, or whether they "naturally" expand by some accident or by drifting across ocean currents, they might exist in this strange ontological space between "native" and "alien" which confounds human conceptions of what "belongs"? And this is worth considering! This is good to think about! But there are still, and always have been, those "small" landscapes, those isolated pockets, those relicts and remnants in shaded stream corridors, where small populations of endemic species teeter on the verge, with highly-specialized adaptations to highly-specific microhabitats. You're not going to "assist the migration" of or "accidentally introduce" a cave-obligate salamander from a limestone cavern or a temperate rainforest-dwelling land-slug to a desert biome.

But, again, I still think it is good to stop and ask ourselves whether categories of “natural” and “alien/invasive” in ecology make sense, are outdated, or if they reinforce racism/xenophobia. And, again, I haven’t read enough -- I haven’t grappled with these questions enough -- to have an opinion which I’m comfortable sharing, so I don’t want to discourage this disk horse too much.

Anyway, hope some of this is interesting. Sorry. Again, I don’t really have any good recommendations.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Love is a Bundle of Contradictions.

This artwork was a piece I commissioned from @shimmeryspark​!

... There is no explanation for this other than my friends encouraged me to write Valentine’s Day Raven and Jade fluff, since the main saga is a bit lot of angst right now. (Special thanks to @twstpasta since they let me borrow their twstsona for plot reasons :9)

Imagine this...

“You WHAT?!”

“Ehehe~ Sorry...!! I guess I went and made a bad decision, heehoo~” Mac stuck out their tongue and lightly bonked their own head with a fist. “Silly me~”

“Making a deal with Azul is the very definition of a bad decision,” Raven groaned, slapping a hand to her face. “I... I cannot believe you. Dare I ask what the conditions were?”

“I gave him my taste buds! He said he’ll give them back if you help out with stocking up on supplies for the Mostro Lounge.”

“That’s... suspiciously simple. And you really just handed over your taste buds just like that? You can’t taste your beloved cheese anymore.”

“I know!” Mac pouted. “It’s so sad, so you’ll help this rataroni out, right?”

“I find it odd that Azul is demanding my assistance, seeing as how I am not the one that made the deal with him to begin with. However... I cannot turn my back on a friend in need. I will lend you a helping wing—er, hand.”

“Sweet, sweet!!” Mac clasped Raven’s hands happily. “Just remember to show up this Sunday afternoon. Meet up’s in the town square. Oh, and be sure to wear something cute!”

“Something cute? Why would...”

“It’s part of the deal—so you just gotta, okay? That’s what Azul said!” Mac paused, before adding, “Oh, oh! And bring some homemade choco in a heart-shaped box!! That’s another contract condition!”

“Oh... O-Okay...?”

Raven leaned back against a lamp post, anxiously winding a finger around the string of small pearls at her collarbone. In her other hand was a bag, and in that bag, a heart-shaped box of homemade chocolates—just as Mac had told her.

A silver heart-shaped charm dangled from the necklace, lying still against her real hammering heart. Rarely did she venture out into the local town—and, standing there by her lonesome, the raven felt out of place and awkward.

An addendum to a story that had already been penned.

She watched as her silver charm caught a wink of sun and guided the light down its curve. Reflected back in the charm’s surface was the raven herself.

Today, her inky hair was cast up in a high pigtail and secured with a cobalt ribbon. She had traded her usual outfit for a pale blouse with billowy puff sleeves, white stockings, and a high waist skirt in a plaid pattern—cobalt, like her ribbons.

I hope this satisfies the conditions of the deal.

Raven checked the time on her phone; any minute now, Azul would be showing up, and they’d get this over with. Then she could return to her attic to roost, and Mac could return to feasting on cheese and inhaling poison—

“Oya. Do my eyes deceive me, or is that you, Miss Raven?” a silken cadence called out to her, rising above the hustle and bustle of the town.

“... You,” she responded flatly, narrowing her eyes at a certain eel as he parted from a crowd.

Ah.

Jade, too, had abandoned his typical uniform in favor of casual comfort. He wore a pair of dress pants and a grey turtleneck—and over it was a brown trench coat, unbuttoned to show off how snugly that sweater fit against his lean, muscular body.

Raven squinted. His earring was slightly different today as well. Rather than three diamond shaped sturgeon scales dangling from his ear, there were heart shaped ones. Blue and glassy, like the calm sea after a storm.

His hands were polite folded behind his back... hiding something. Whatever that something was, petals of pink, red, and yellow-orange were poking out.

If she didn’t know any better, she would have said he looked handsome—and innocent—enough. But she did know better.

“What are you doing here?” Raven demanded, no longer playing with her necklace. Her hands went to her sides, curling into balls.

“Fufufu. The town is a public space. I am free to come and go as I please, the very same as you.” Jade tilted his head to one side. “Although today, I am here on an errand. The Mostro Lounge is short on centerpiece supplies, you see. I have been sent to restock.”

“What a coincidence. I’m also here to help the Mostro Lounge restock,” Raven said, a bit of bitterness slipping into her voice, “as per a contract.”

Jade attempted to appear sympathetic—but he allowed a cruel chuckle to escape him. “I see now. I was not aware that you were the one indebted to Octavinelle, Miss Raven. Had I known sooner, I would not have hesitated to summon you to fill in for Kon-san’s morning shift.”

“I’m not a waitress for you to order around.” Raven jutted out her chin defiantly. “I’m here strictly on business, so if you would kindly leave me be...!!”

“I believe you said you had to assist the Mostro Lounge. Would it not be prudent, then, to go about tending to that duty rather than standing about and looking like a lost lamb?”

“Sh-Shut up! It’s not my fault that Azul is running late...!!”

“You were waiting for Azul?” Jade said, his brows pinching together briefly. “You are terribly mistaken. It is not Azul who is assisting you with the restock, but myself.”

“... Beg pardon?”

Wear something cute, bring homemade chocolates, Mac had said. And it has to be you, Raven, not me! But why? Slowly, slowly... The pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

A thought dawned on Raven:

I’ve definitely been tricked.

“Well!! That’s all fine and dandy, but I think I shall be on my way home now. I really must be having a chat with a friend of mine,” she babbled, turning on her heel. They’re going to be buried in tomato sauce when I get to them.

“How cruel of you to abandon those in need, Miss Raven. And to think that Mac-san shall be without their taste buds... and I, burdened with the task of restocking by my lonesome. What a tragic way to spend Valentine’s Day,” Jade exhaled deeply and wiped at an imaginary tear. “Shikushikushiku...”

Raven’s left eye twitched. “Don’t you paint me as the bad guy here...!!��

“Aren’t you?” Jade challenged, a smile still plastered on his face despite his mocking tone.

“Grrr...!!” She whipped around, thrusting an index finger at him. “Listen here... Leech!! The only reason I am even here was to help someone out of a contract your shady boss roped them into!”

“If you are as selfless and loving as you claim to be, then you should have no issues with shopping with me,” Jade countered smoothly. “After all, they say that actions speak louder than words.”

The little bird vibrated with irritation, her cheeks puffed out in a pout. Her stomach coiled tight, uneasiness brewing. As much as she hated to admit to it, he was right.

Raven clenched her teeth and sent a glare his way. “Fine...!! But I will be keeping an eye on you to ensure that there is no funny business!”

“Then by all means, ‘keep an eye on me’, and do not let your gaze stray for even a single moment,” Jade chuckled, somehow sneering through his smile. “I welcome it.”

The eel held out a hand to Raven. “We’d best not be separated while on our errand.”

She stared hesitantly. Her eyes flickered between his eyes and the hand he offered. Subtle changes in her expression occurred in rapid succession—the raising of her lids, the tremble to her lower lip, the tinge to her cheeks.

“... Yeah. We’d best not,” Raven finally agreed, her grip on her bag—the bag containing her chocolates—tightened. “Which is precisely why I will follow you at a safe distance.”

“Ah, but that would ruin the surprise.”

“What, the bouquet? You’re not exactly doing a masterful job of hiding it.”

“Nor are you doing well to hide your little surprise, Miss Raven.”

“I was deceived. This chocolate is not meant for you.”

“I didn’t say that it was, now did I?”

“... I’m going to eat them myself, then. That’ll show you!”

“Do with it what you wish, for selfish purposes or not,” Jade laughed, revealing his bouquet—all the colors of the setting sun. “These flowers, on the other hand, are meant to be gifted...”

He pushed the bouquet toward Raven. Up close, the flowers seemed even more vibrant and beautiful. Their warm hues enveloping the raven, enchanting her senses. Mesmerized, she reached out to accept the flowers—when Jade suddenly clicked his tongue and pulled them away.

“But alas—not to you,” he teased, pressing a finger to his lips. “Do try to keep up with me now, Miss Raven.”

Jade turned and dove into a sea of townspeople, leaving a trail of sunset-colored petals in his wake. And, like the fool that she was, a fuming raven stormed after him—chocolates still in hand. Heart quivering.

Terrariums—the flowers were meant for terrariums all along.

Jade had taken his sweet time leading her down a winding path and to an art supply store tucked away in a corner, and even longer to observe the shape and feel of each terrarium container. Spherical, cuboidal, prismatic... Holding up the bouquet every so often to compare how the flowers would look in each.

In the end, he had gone wild with his purchases, electing to buy a selection of shapes, along with other supplies—just to keep himself amused. Jade had paid with a platinum card embossed with Octavinelle’s logo. Mostro Lounge Master Cash Card, it read. Azul’s property; do not steal! Sign the loaning form if you must borrow.

It was all for the terrariums, for business as usual.

I should have realized sooner. Stupid, stupid, Raven scolded herself.

She grunted, struggling to carry the bagful of terrarium supplies that Jade had saddled her with, while he carried one of his own without any trouble. The eel cast her a mocking glance over his shoulder.

“Are you in need of a break, Miss Raven?”

Bite me, she wanted to snap back—but a bark of pain shot up her arms, silencing her defiance. “... M-Maybe.”

He sighed in an exaggerated fashion. “Very well. I see a café up ahead. We can rest there for a few moments, though it may require the purchase of a food item if we wish for a table.”

“Sounds peachy.”

Together, they swept through the café doors. The duo was immediately greeted by the smell of sugar and the hum of the other patrons, many of them couples.

Raven stiffened at the sight, turning a deep shade of red. Suddenly, she was very, very aware of how she—and Jade—looked.

“I think I changed my mi—“ Raven was cut off when he grasped her hand and held fast. She jolted back, her skin turning clammy. “Eeep! Wh-What are you...”

“Table for two,” Jade requested of an employee. “We do not intend to stay for a large meal, so just an ice-cream parfait will do.”

“Certainly, sir. Right this way.” The server quickly seated them, and with a bow, departed to retrieve their order.

“... You can let go of my hand now,” Raven hissed, attempting to free herself. To no avail, initially. She tugged again, and finally broke free, aggressively rubbing at her hand to ward off the residual eel cooties.

Jade chuckled, tucking his strand of black hair behind his ear. His earring glimmered in the afternoon sunlight pouring in through wide windows. “Play along. You are aware that today is Valentine’s Day, yes?”

“Yes, but I do not understand what that has to do with... physical contact, especially seeing as how we are not engaged in that kind of a relationship.”

“It is simple.” He laced his fingers together, resting his chin on them. With the most serene of smiles, Jade purred, “We should take advantage of the couple discounts being offered at eateries such as this. An excellent way to save on spending, especially after that particularly large purchase made on the Mostro Lounge’s coin.”

“You’re a shrewd one.”

“Why, thank you.”

Raven’s hands curled in her lap. Her lips pursed, she found her gaze trained on the white lace of the tablecloth, rather than on her dining companion.

Time and time again, she has been tricked today, told white lies. Teased and deceived. It was simply how he was—and though it did irk her in some ways, it also never made a moment dull.

Hot and cold. Push and pull. Bitter and sweet. That was Jade Leech.

“Your parfait is here!!” The server from before popped up in her periphery, startling the raven from her thoughts. They set it down and stepped back. “Here you are—enjoy your date!”

“Thank you. We certainly will,” Jade reacted before Raven could and dismissed the server with a wave. “... Well, let’s dig in.”

“You didn’t correct them.”

“We won’t get the discount if they don’t believe this farce,” he replied calmly, nudging the parfait and a spoon toward her. “Now then, less talking and more eating. You need your strength if you plan on helping me haul all the supplies back to campus.”

She let out a huff, but dug her spoon into a frozen mound. The parfait was massive, composed of several scoops of pink, blue, and green ice-cream, flanked by chocolate wafer bars. With a smattering of sprinkles, a crown of whipped cream, and a maraschino cherry on top, the dessert looked absolutely picture perfect.

Raven steadily brought a spoonful of pink goop into her mouth, allowing a sweet bubblegum flavor to spread across her tongue. Her eyes cut to Jade, who had not bothered to sample any for himself. He smiled back, gaze half-lidded as if recalling a fond memory.

“Have some, too. I feel weird eating it alone—and you must be hungry too. I know how big your appetite is.” Raven pushed the parfait glass toward him.

“If you insist.”

The head of his spoon sunk into a green scoop with shards of chocolate chip weaved throughout. It pulled away cleanly with a large mound, which was soon consumed. Then another bite, and a third, a fourth... Before Raven knew it, a good third of the parfait was missing.

Jade patted his mouth with a napkin, eyeing her expectantly.

“Are you still hungry?” Raven asked, eyebrows raising. She retrieved a scoop of blue this time—vaguely flavored like a medley of fruits.

“Perhaps... though I do not plan on taking more of the parfait for myself. Were I to, there would be none left for you.”

The fruit seemed to sour in her mouth. It was true that she was hungry, yes—but at the same time, she did not wish for Jade to be left dissatisfied.

She frowned, setting her spoon down and reaching into her bag. Seconds later, she produced a heart-shaped package and shoved it at him.

“Here, chocolates. They’re yours now, since I have no other use for them,” Raven mumbled insistently. “You can eat them now, or save them for later. Just hurry up and take them before I change my mind.”

“Oya, it is rather bold to profess your undying love to me in such a public space.” Jade teased, chuckling lightly into his hand.

“B-Be quiet...!! We... We can’t get that couple’s discount if one of us passes out from hunger.”

“Fufufu. I doubt that either of us would.” His mismatched eyes twinkled with mirth. “... Thank you for the sweets, Miss Raven. I will be certain to savor every last bite.”

The town became even busier in the late afternoon, filing with the sound of street performers and spectators. A monkey in a vest and a small hat barreled by Raven’s feet as she and Jade exited the café, nearly causing her to double over. A chorus of children’s laughter chased after the monkey—and she, the raven, stumbled on her recovery.

“Perhaps now would be a good time to reconsider my offer,” Jade suggested, a hand on the small of her back to support her. That same hand trailed around and tickled the back of hers. “It would be a shame if we lost one another in this crowd.”

Raven regarded him with a pointed look, but slipped her hand into his without further resistance. “... Only because I have to.”

“Of course, of course.”

Together, they braved the bustling streets.

A new world unfolded before Raven’s very eyes. Costumed performers of all kinds paraded about, garnering attention from passerbys. Some tossed confetti and candies, others brandished instruments. Brass, strings, percussion—all their notes floated up into the festive atmosphere.

There went a dancer, leaping like a lithe deer, limbs outstretched and the flowy fabric of their uniform like a curtain of smoke. And here was an artist perched on a stool, sketching the outline of a woman posed on a wooden crate. A young man jingled a tambourine, trying to catch coins in his cap.

A number of food carts patrolled the roads, calling out their wares. Crepes, sandwiches, sodas... Families, friends, and couples lining benches, exchanging bites.

Love was truly in the air and oozing out of every pore of the community.

Raven couldn’t keep her head still. She turned this way and that, trying to soak up every last sight and sound. Her golden eyes sparkled with wonder.

Jade, of course, took note. “Excited, are you?”

“It’s very different than Night Raven College,” she replied shyly. “Almost like a magic kingdom.”

“Magic kingdom? You can be rather melodramatic at times.”

“Yeah? So can you and Azul and Floyd, with all your fake tears...” Her wandering eyes caught something bright red as she spoke. “Oh...!! Look.”

Raven tugged on Jade’s hand, urging him to a halt. Her gaze was transfixed on a lamp post with a multitude of red strings. At the other ends of those ribbons were heart-shaped balloons, as red as blood.

His eyebrows pinched together in mocking sympathy. “You truly are fascinated by the simplest things. Is it true what they say? That ravens are attracted to shiny objects?”

Her mouth flew open to protest, but she was interrupted by a woman by the balloon-bearing lamp post “You there!! Sir with the earring and ma’am with the blue ribbon! Care for some balloons?”

“Er... What are they for?” Raven asked.

“For love, of course,” the woman laughed. “Today’s all about appreciating one another, right? This is my way of spreading love.”

She separated three balloons from her bundle and offered them with a flourish. Raven eagerly accepted them, staring up in wonder at their floating bodies.

“Oh, and one more thing!!” The woman produced a red ribbon from her jacket pocket and nodded at the duo. “Your pinkie fingers, please!”

Raven held out her hand as directed, letting the woman secure the ribbon in a neat little knot. The balloon bearer extended the length of the ribbon, glancing to Jade. Raven, too, looked at him expectantly. Jade expelled a quiet sigh and allowed the red ribbon to be tied to his pinkie.

“There you go!” the woman declared triumphantly. “You’re all set now! Enjoy the rest of your Valentine’s Day, folks!”

“Thank you!” Raven shouted over her shoulder—even as Jade started to lead her away. The woman waved and waved until she was out of sight.

“... It has been a while since I have seen you this enthusiastic,” Jade remarked with a glance to the balloons. “I do suppose it is a departure from the monotony of daily life, but to think that such little things bring this amount of joy...”

“It reminds me of a story a little birdie once told me,” Raven chirped with a small giggle. “The story of the Red Thread of Fate.”

“Oh?” Jade raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

“The Red Thread of Fate is said to connect ‘destined people’. It can tangle, twist, or stretch, but it can never break. From the moment you are born, you have an unseen thread flowing from your pinkie finger, tying your fate to that of the person on the other end,” Raven recited, her tone turning solemn—her storytelling voice.

“Someday,” she said, “you will cross paths with the one that shares your thread, and your lives will be forever changed by the encounter. It could be a meaningful battle between rivals, the loss of a loved one, the promise of marriage... but the course of their stories will never again be the same.”

“How sentimental. And what, pray tell, does this red thread of ours mean, Miss Raven?” Jade questioned, lifting his end of the ribbon—the crimson shining in the sunlight.

“How would I know? I’m not a god,” she huffed. “It’s just fun to imagine the possibilities.”

“It is, indeed. Even so, surely there must be one favored conclusion to the story of the Red Thread of Fate in that pretty little head of yours.” He brought a hand to his mouth, yanking Raven toward him.

She glanced up with a glare. “I’d have to have a bird brain to tell you that.”

“Is that not the duty of a storyteller? To stand on stage and tell the tale until the curtain closes. Your adoring audience awaits.”

“You’re being booted from the metaphorical theater before you get to hear or see the ending.”

“I would like to see you try.”

Jade slowed to a stop, Raven following suit. They were back in the town square, by the lamp post where they had met up. Ending where it had all begun.

He pulled out his phone and consulted the time. Jade unlocked his device, quickly wrote up a message, and tucked it away again. “I can take it from here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Besides,” Jade cast a pitiful look at Raven’s trembling arms, “I doubt you would be able to haul those supplies the remainder of the way, and certainly not in an efficient manner.”

“... Then what was the point of stating in the contract that you needed a helping hand?”

“I am afraid that even I am not entirely privy as to Azul’s intentions,” he chuckled, gently prying a bag from her hands. “I will be certain to let Azul know that Mac-san’s end of the contract has been fulfilled.”

“Eh...? But—“

“You have our thanks for lending the Mostro Lounge your time. You are free to go now, Miss Raven. I’ve already summoned Floyd in your stead to assist me.”

“Th-The ribbon, you fool! I can’t leave if I’m still bound to you!”

“Oh? You don’t say.” His singsong held no concern whatsoever, only amusement.

“S-Stop playing dumb! You know very well what you are doing!!”

“You said it yourself, Miss Raven. Our lives have been forever changed since our encounter. There is no going back now.”

“Stop manipulating the narrative to suit your needs.”

“I haven’t the faintest clue what you mean. Jade smiled, feigning innocence. “You’ve resigned yourself to spending the rest of the day with me—at least until Floyd arrives to relieve you of your burden. Ah, but given his moodiness, who knows when that will be.”

“Just because your surname is Leech doesn’t mean you need to suck the life out of me like one,” Raven snapped. She reached for the red ribbon, intending to undo it—

—only to be met with a bouquet a second time. Flowers the color of the sunset, smelling like the drip of sunshine and a cut of meadow.

“For you—no strings attached this time.”

“Those are for the terrarium centerpieces.”

“I can easily replace them,” Jade insisted, “and I must repay you for your kind chocolate gift. Consider this... ‘favors for favors’, so that neither one of us is left indebted to the other.”

“... Alright. I’ll take them, but only because they might be useful for brewing some new inks.”

“I’m glad to see that you are being agreeable.” Jade slipped the flowers to her. “Take good care of them.”

Raven leaned against a lamp post, cradling the large bouquet in one arm. Her heart fluttered, and her limbs felt as light as air. Warm and floaty, like the balloons in her hand. 

Favors for favors—but it still counted as a gift from Jade, and that very thought sent her mind spiraling. She took a shaky breath, and focused on the confetti and laughter in the distance, the song and dance of the street performers.

Waiting and waiting for Floyd.

“Miss Raven.”

“What now? Haven’t you bullied me enough for today? Are you still not satisfied, you sadist?”

She dared to lift her eyes to meet Jade’s—and her heart stood still, for he looked back. His sharp eyes soft and shrouded by long lashes, his lips pulled into a tender smile.

“Contract or no, I always enjoy my time with you—I enjoyed today,” Jade murmured. “I hope that we are able to do this again sometime.”

“... Shut up. J-Just shut up already, i-it’s embarrassing listening to you speak...!!” She buried her head in the flowers, concealing her pink face. Still feeling floaty, like a balloon, high on happiness.

“Fufufu. Happy Valentine’s Day, Miss Raven.”

[magician-under-the-moonlight]

CHARACTER TRIVIA GAME !

instructions: describe 10 random headcanons about your muse of choice that will rarely ever have the chance to naturally come up in threads. Go wild, go random, go meta! repost, do not reblog!

1) Kaito grows his own roses. He has his own rose garden in the back yard and uses a bunch of selective breeding to make them naturally bloom a bunch of different wacky colors, like the yellow ones with red tips, or black roses, even the white ones. His arms are covered in scratches from handling the thorns in the rose bushes.

2) He’s been struggling with gender dysphoria since he was little. “He” alone doesn’t seem to cover all the bases when it comes to Kaito’s gender identity. He peeks up Aoko’s skirt and uses various disguises with a feminine figure to try and figure out who Kaito Kuroba is.

3) Kaito is unable to sit still for long periods of time. He mitigates this by tapping his fingers, reading the news, shuffling his cards and other things to help him fidget with his hands so sitting through something doesn’t drive him crazy.

4) When teachers call his fidgeting around distracting to the class, he responds with a very spiteful magic show that usually ends up with the class covered in paint and / or glitter. He’s gotten at least three elementary school teachers to quit their jobs. (You want to know what a distraction in class is? Yeah that’s right, step off and let me shuffle my deck because it could be a looooot worse.)

5) Kaito is terrible at asking questions. The closest you’ll get from him is either making demands for information or going off to figure it out himself. This includes asking for help with things, as despite his attention seeking persona, he’d rather work alone on things and get them done his way, making him a bit socially inept and awkward to be around, which is why Aoko is his only close friend.

6) Kaito is Demiromantic. Despite his flirty persona he doesn’t actually feel romantic attraction toward anyone unless he really gets to know them. He appreciates the mind and the personality more. He doesn’t believe in love at first sight and would rather take things to the next level with someone he knows he can trust.

7) Kaito is stellar at technical engineering. He loves to take things apart and put them back together again. His motorcycle has been relentlessly repaired and upgraded, and only had to be taken to Jii’s professor friend that one time because he ran out of parts to fix it himself.

8) Kaito mixes his own sleeping gas and stage smoke. He makes sure not to gas anyone with anything he himself wouldn’t be comfortable inhaling. It also smells like roses, so its very distinct compared to any store bought stage smoke.

9) Kaito knows some very vague martial arts skills. He mostly knows how to block and dodge, and is more in it for the acrobatic aspects than self defense. He dislikes confrontation though and very rarely uses it outside of dodging while looking like a badass.

10) Kaito is a big softy toward anything relatively fluffy. Put a dog in front of him? That fella is getting pets and magically appearing treats. Give him all the cats, he wants to pet all the cats. He owns at least fifty fluffy doves he’s been rearing since he was six. If it’s fuzzy and allowed to be pet, Kaito is going to pet it.

Challenged by: Stole it from @moore--or--less​

Challenging: You!! (if you haven’t done it yet)

[eclecticmiasma]

Cold Blood (Bucciarati x Reader)

FS, as I deem you, you are always welcome in my inbox you nutball 😘 Incoming forced Bucciarati x Reader angst.

In the end, even the righteous are nothing more than animals. 

NSFW

[Warnings: rape, dead dove do not eat]

Art credit: MIE. on pixiv

When you and Bruno had entered the abandoned hangar, it seemed normal enough. A bit ominous in how massive and empty it was, an impression not helped by the lack of lighting, but nothing out of the ordinary. All you wanted to do was get in, gather some intel, and leave.

That’s when you spotted Diavolo’s henchmen.

“You’ve built up quite a reputation for yourself, Bucciarati. Many loyal citizens even refer to you as the Santo di Napoli…How quaint.”

Bruno’s mind reeled for ways to wipe the shit-eating grin off of the green-lipped doctor that loomed atop some scaffolding near forty feet above you. Even the gremlin that perched next to him on all fours seemed to be mocking in his gaze. Fear etched its way into your features, as neither of your stands were equipped to reach them. Until they made a move, you were caught like mice in a trap.

“My orders were to execute you both, but there’s a small experiment I’ve been dying to try for decades. The world lacks such passionate and honorable men as yourself, and I fear that if I simply snuff out your life now, I might never get the chance to see if my theory holds true.”

Your capo stood in front of you protectively, fingers itching, a cold and calculated look on his features. He was no doubt regretful that he had asked you and not one of his other underlings to help him with this task. His number one goal was to protect the ones he loved, and his love for you ran much deeper than you even realized.

“You see, I have a theory that any man on the planet can be brought to their base instincts with nothing more than a chemical. Humans love to drone on about how civilized and evolved we are. We tout our self-control as though we’re anything more than sentient beasts…The problem has been finding a man virtuous enough to be worth experimenting on. You should be honored that I’ve chosen you, Bucciarati.”

Cioccolata gave Secco a tap on the head and gestured for him to fish something out of his pockets. The boy did so gratefully, worming his fingers through the taller man’s pants until he found what he was looking for. His shoddily held together mask slipped down and revealed a beaming grin as he held up a small pistol for the doctor to see.

“Perfect! Always a reliable boy,” Cioccolata praised, flicking a white cube into his pet’s waiting mouth. He turned his attention back to his anxious captives, “If the experiment goes well, I’ll gladly let the two of you live. Though, I don’t know if you’ll want to.”

It happened in a millisecond. He pointed the pistol straight at Bruno and pulled the trigger once. Something much thinner than a bullet shot right through Bruno’s black and white suit into his bicep. You rushed forward to help him as he cried out in pain, immediately ripping the foreign object out of his arm and throwing it to the floor like it was made of fire. It appeared to be some kind of small, pink dart.

“Stay back!” Bruno shouted at you, feeling warmth spread from the sight of injection throughout his upper body. Whatever was in the dart worked immediately, and as you made eye contact you watched his frantic pupils dilate to the point that you could no longer see a hint of his bright blue irises. Panic flooded through you as you watched him struggle, fearing that he was in real pain. You turned up to shout obscenities at Cioccolata, demanding to know what he’d done, but the doctor’s unhinged look of pure delight gave you pause.  

“I wouldn’t take my eyes off of him if I were you,” He said, clucking his tongue. You noticed that Secco was leaned over the edge of the scaffolding, angling a video camera your direction.

Bruno’s heavy breathing brought your attention back. He was sweating bullets, normally kempt raven hair sticking to his forehead. His eyes flicked up and down your body as his chest heaved. Fear gripped you as you realized he looked like a cornered feral animal, “Bucciarati…are you o-”

“[Y/n]…” He practically growled, limbs twitching, drool dripping from his parted lips, “Run.”

You didn’t need him to tell you twice. The entrance to the warehouse was twenty to thirty feet away. If you could just get outside, you could flag down Abbacchio and Giorno who stood as lookouts for backup.  

You got hardly ten feet before something wrapped around your waist and slammed you backwards onto the hard metal floor, knocking the air out of you. Your veins ran ice cold as whatever it was immediately hooked its arms beneath your shoulders and began to drag you backwards. You kicked out wildly and screamed bloody murder, trying to dig your soles into the floor just enough to keep from being taken.

In a last ditch effort to escape, you turned your head down to bite the arms that constricted your chest. Horrified, you realized they belonged to Sticky Fingers.

“Bucciarati, stop!” You cried out, terribly confused. Sticky Fingers stopped and heaved you sideways so that Bruno stood at your feet, looming over you. His breathing was even more erratic, and his hands were visibly trembling. A single tear leaked from his blown out eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” He whispered. You tried to jerk out of the stand’s grasp as it suddenly gripped the sides of your shirt and ripped it open in a flurry of movement. Bruno’s eyes pierced your bare chest with his unhinged gaze, and suddenly he was on you like a rabid wolf. Lips, hands, teeth, breath- all of it gliding along your body at once with no regard for your sobs of protest.

Bruno and Sticky Fingers made quick work of your clothing, stripping you naked in a matter of seconds. All you could do was beg your capo to stop as he exposed you to the world, and all he could do was mutter apology after apology. He gripped your hair painfully and pressed his body against you, rutting his clothed, painfully hard erection against your lower abdomen and panting in your ear.

“[Y/n], [y/n]…I have to. I need to…”

“Bucc-Bruno, please don’t do this,” You wept. Bruno bypassed removing his pants altogether by just zipping the top half of them off completely, freeing his throbbing length. It hit your bare stomach with a sickening slap and bile rose in your throat. Sticky Fingers tightened its grip on your arms as you struggled, but you managed to kick Bruno hard in the thigh.

“You bitch,” He shouted, hands moved impossibly fast, digging his nails into your flailing legs so hard they pierced your skin. His voice sounded like it came from another entity altogether. You never even thought it possible for Bruno to get so enraged.

Just as fast as his fury came it disappeared into dust. His face immediately twisted into sadness and he threw himself against you, letting out a slew of apologies against your ear. You stopped struggling and just cried, completely stunned and profoundly conflicted. On the one hand, the man you trusted the most in this world was going to violate you beyond repair. On the other hand, it wasn’t him. It wasn’t Bruno. It was the enemies that stood proudly above you, lazily gratifying their own members to your despair.

Like a man possessed, Bruno pushed your thighs apart painfully wide and began frotting against your bare folds. His groveling melted into mumbling incoherently about all of the ways he’s wanted to fuck you ever since the day you met. It pained you deeply to think that your friendship might have been nothing but Bruno biding his time, waiting for the day you would accede to his desire. You tried to shake the thought from your head. It isn’t Bruno, it isn’t Bruno.

From somewhere above, you heard Secco cackle wildly. The tip of Bruno’s cock found its way into your entrance, and the burning stretch immediately brought fresh tears to your eyes.

Bruno pressed on, despite the fact that your body rejected him fully. It was agony, your role model’s thick, dry length impaling you inch by excruciating inch. His lips met your neck and sucked angry red marks into your clammy skin. It felt like he was splitting you in two. Sticky Fingers gripped your arms so tightly one of your shoulders felt dangerously close to popping out of its socket.

“Looks like I was right again, Secco. Even Santo Bucciarati can’t fight nature,” You shook your head violently, feeling the room spin. Stop talking…you thought. Stop talking, stop talking, it isn’t him!

After eons, Bruno finally bottomed out inside of you. Even sitting still, the thrum of pain you felt around his cock was immense. Your eyes wrenched closed, refusing to watch as Bruno took your body for his own.

“Please,” You whimpered one final time, appealing to some part of Bruno you desperately hoped was still lurking beneath the surface of whatever possessed him. You were granted no such appeal.

“Fuck,” He growled, moving inside of you, dick dragging along your walls like barbed wire. He felt your hot, sticky tears against his cheek as his sweat-slicked face leaned against yours, and in his first act of kindness dragged his tongue along them, “Don’t cry, bella…you’re taking me so well…” His hips snapped against you as his hands roamed your body, grasping at whatever flesh was within his reach. Even Sticky Fingers made small sounds as his user canted deep inside of you.

Bruno moaned aloud when your pussy clamped on his length for the briefest of moments as he hit a spot that, under other circumstances, would have felt incredible. Instead, it only made you sick. A cloying feeling scratching at your guts as he fucked you with wild abandon.

His thrusts became more erratic once his lips found yours. You fought as hard as you could, clamping your lips shut and turning your face away from him. Sticky Fingers didn’t hesitate to painfully grab your jaw and snap your head back to center, using its thick digits to pry open your mouth and give its owner access. Bruno moaned into your mouth when his tongue met yours, and it took everything inside of you not to retch as it slid along your throat.

“God, fuck,” He pulled away from you, wrapping his arms around your neck and penetrating your hole at a brutal pace, “I love you, [y/n],” Your stomach dropped, “I love you, I love you, I-” His hips stuttered as his release hit him suddenly, his seed spurting deep within you all at once. You whimpered pitifully at its warmth, disgusted at the feeling of his thick semen coating your walls.

Cioccolata slowly clapped. Secco proudly showed him from what great angles he managed to film the fall of Bucciarati.

Bruno clung to you for several minutes after his orgasm, when all you wanted him to do was leave you alone to mourn. His body trembled against yours. When he finally pulled away, you saw that his eyes, the real Bruno’s eyes, were filled to the brim with tears. You never saw him look so pained. He tried to speak, but no words came. Sticky Fingers faded away, and you collapsed into a heap on the floor.

Bruno pulled himself from you and bellowed into the endless abyss of the hangar until his throat was raw.

Diavolo’s guards held true to their word. They didn’t kill you that night, or any other night. They simply collected their data, and left the two of you to wallow in your shattered new reality.

*all original work is my intellectual property. do not edit or re-upload.