valentine.

"an artist isn't a camera. what's on the paper isn't always what the eye sees."

[bunnyluvx]

welcome to my blog! ♡ minors and ageless blogs dni.

all banner credit | blog started: april 2nd, 2024.

he/vamp/fangs/petals. 21 year old multifandom writer.

links • masterlist • ko-fi • ao3 • commission info • request rules • about me

@BUNNYLUVX ,, all rights reserved. do not copy/plagiarize any of my works or submit it into ai.

[bunnyluvx]

i really need to give this account a good cleaning, and make hashtags for it

[unspeakablearchives]

[bunnyluvx]

happy new year, friends!! i hope that 2026 is a year full of love, whimsy and your fictional favs! <3

[snowvee]

──── 𝑮𝑹𝑨𝑺𝑷𝑬𝑫 𝑫𝑶𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑰𝑶𝑵

╰ 𝑺𝒚𝒍𝒖𝒔 LOVE AND DEEPSPACE: 2ND ANNIVERSARY

[endykelopaedia]

forgot how white this website is and expected there to be more uproar about the US bombing my home country, nigeria, on christmas day. my mistake!

[endykelopaedia]

Sokoto state, a majority Muslim state in north-west Nigeria was bombed on Christmas day. It is still unclear how many bombs were dropped and where. Confirmed is a bomb dropped on a Mosque in Jabo, killing 5 people.

Trump has claimed that this is in retaliation of the "Christian genocide" happening in Nigeria, committed by "radical Islamists" of the ISIL (ISIS), and the specific choosing of Christmas day was to reify that this is a religious based retaliation.

This Christmas, I am in Nigeria. My family is majority Christian. We are without fear of being persecuted on the basis of our religion. So, what is going on?

There is no Christian genocide in Nigeria. Nigeria is a complex country that faces a lot of violence, exploitation and subsequent neglect from our government. But it is not Christians being targeted in our country. This insidious piece of misinformation has been dutifully organised by US officials for months and gained steam on platforms like X and Truth Social.

I do not believe though, that this action was done to fight Islamic terrorists or protect Nigerian Christians. The reason being:

Sokoto state is not a state with ISIL activity.

This is another display of US throwing its weight around, conveniently, onto the most oil-rich country in Africa.

Do not believe everything the US tells you about its foreign affairs. The US will gladly spill blood on the flimsiest of justifications just to continue gorging its empire.

Please keep love in your hearts for the Nigerian people.

[abyssyby]

“Pet.” is one of Kyros’s first words.

Around a year and a half in of his gentle little life, Sylus takes him and Lucian on a trip to a petting zoo. Acres and acres of trees and foliage, trimmed to perfection. The heart of the zoo sits a pond with ducks and other avian life, surrounded by the barns and gates of mammals and rodents.

Lucian couldn’t stop yelling “Bunny! Bunny!” in your ear, you had to excuse yourself to take him to the floppy eared babies lest you go deaf prematurely.

Kyros is silent. Tiny fingers grip Sylus’s one, and he watches.

His face taken over by his wide eyes and wondrous gurgles, he is the epitome of joy as he wriggles in his baby bjorn, strapped to his papa’s chest.

Throughout the day, he hears pet.

“Do you want to pet it?” the woman asks, holding up a turtle to Kyros. The amphibian’s head pops out and in directly affected by the distance of his small hand to the animal. Scaredy, Kyros notes.

“Pet the goat!” Another zookeeper invites them over. Kyros notes how their—his and papa’s—shadow seem to weigh on the goat’s horns and tilt him forward.

“Scaredy.” he murmurs to himself, but reaches out to pet the animal anyway. His eyes shine when the goat finds serenity in the scratches behind the ear papa gives him.

“He likes pets.” says papa, who now taps his finger over a bird. One ignored for his unpresentable feathers and grumpy disposition. Despite having been told it nips, Sylus approached it anyway. “He was just scared.”

Kyros likes the zoo. And has a general understanding of pets now.

And when he’s finally set down on the grass, his overalls a big sack on his body, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he wanders away— fast.

Sylus nearly trips over dirt and what he doesn’t want to think is poo chasing after him. “Kyros!”

“Pet, pet,” is squealed back. A voice crunch and crisp— his first loud word of the day. Knees raising legs lead him through an uncoordinated waddle towards the center. And the lake is fast approaching.

“Kyros!” Sylus sprints—doesn’t have time to think how on earth his son is outrunning him with a head-height of 40 inches and marshmallow legs. “Wait for papa!”

“Pet!”

Sylus resorts to his evol. Black wisps of smoke cradle the child just before he dives into the lake, his canvas sneakers’ tips wet with the momentary dip into the edge. And he’s floated back to Sylus’s arms.

“Ah, papa,” Kyros whines, reaching out anyway for Sylus’s anticipatory embrace. “Pet.”

“Which, angel?” he wheezes. Thinks age is finally catching up to him as his heart’s thundering rings in his ears and liquifies his knees. He huffs, “You scared me.”

Kyros watches his face. The crease in his brows, the part of his lips as he heaves lungfuls of air, the way his hair is windswept from running. He doesn’t quite understand what had just happened, but he pokes at a drop of sweat rolling down Sylus’s brow. Before his hand rises to his hair, going up and down in a familiar motion. “Pet, pet.”

Sylus softens. Sighing and leaning to his son’s touch. “Thank you, Kyros.”

“Okay.” Kyros pets his hair more, patting down bangs and sweeping nonexistent dirt.

“What did you want to pet, angel?”

Kyros stops. Turns over his shoulder towards the lake, and says. “Dak.”

Oh, right. Of course. Sylus has completely forgotten why they were here in the first place.

A conversation early in the morning of a Tuesday, when Kyros crawled under his covers and asked him to read a story through blurry eyes and a dry throat. “The soft little duck—“

“Dak sof?” Kyros had chirped, cheek squished upon your empty pillow. “Sof Kyros.”

“Kyros is squishy.” Sylus corrects through a yawn. “Ducks are soft.”

“Touch dak.”

“Okay,” Sylus grumbles, closing the book and ignoring Kyros’s whine of protest. “We’ll go to a zoo.”

“Soo?” Kyros brightens. Simultaneously, Sylus scoops him up and places him on his chest. His palm goes up to his son’s hair and strokes lightly.

“Mm. Petting zoo.” Sylus promises, drifting away. “Pet ducks.”

“Pet dak.” Kyros agrees, eyes growing heavy at the silence that befalls them. “Sof dak.”

And now, he confirms it. With his pant legs rolled all the way up to his thighs, shoes completely soaked in the water, Kyros pets a duck. “Oh, sof dak.”

You are on your way, with your own toddler in your arms, to scold both father and son for being in the lake, barely a foot away from the “Do Not Swim” sign. But you can’t help but delay at the sight of them. Taking firm but short steps, firing up to call their names, but not after a photo or ten.

Of course, definitely before the staff step in.

But not now, you wouldn’t dare to intrude in Kyros’s petting zoo.

[bunnyluvx]

godddd kyros is the cutest everrr 🥺

[lemurianjasmine]

From the moment we’re born to when we breathe our last, we shall inevitably walk the same path. It’s the greatest blessing for us.

Sylus ✧ Crimson Departure

[bunnyluvx]

he is my greatest blessing 💕

[lemurianjasmine]

Sylus, you're no longer an existence that no one wants

[bunnyluvx]

i adore him, he has my soul 🥺

[bunnyluvx]

I GOT MY GED TODAY!!!!!!

[abyssyby]

christmas photoshoot with the whole family! imagine the littles in their little polo shirts matching with the biggies

HAPPY DECEMBER! i love this so much!! im a sucker for festive photos, i can just imagine them crowding together to be in one.

Sylus can't see you.

Even though you're right in front of him, you are reduced to a blur of movement trying to rope everything in order in your chaotic rodeo of a family.

"Beloved," he calls, voice lost to the rapid click-click-click of your boots on the tile as you chase a shirtless child around the living room, and the squawks of his crow overhead flying after the other baby clad in only his diapers.

His face falls. He doesn't like being ignored.

Especially not now, when he followed after you when you passed the open door of his office in your dark red number and your snapping heels.

"Good, you're ready! This will be quick," you said, barely even stopping before him to say it. He had to hear the rest as an echo down the hall.

The blur of you not being enough, he needed to feast his eyes on your beauty. And yet here you are, making it impossible for him to do just that.

So he waves his hand, fingers twirling to command vipers of shadow to wrap around his toddlers like a ribbon. Gently, they float over to the couch, giggling as if tickled all the way down. Under his breath, he murmurs a playful, “Time out.”

Your sigh of relief carries the weight of universes as you follow after them. Crowning them with their dark red polo shirts and supervising them as they try to pull it over their heads and slip their arms through the rest of the garment.

And in the calm, Sylus tries again to have a look at you. "Beloved."

But, again, his efforts are swallowed by sound.

"Mama, I lost!" cries Kyros, now a wiggling little body without a head.

You help him thread his big coconut through the collar after a good giggle and set him back down so he can resume his running.

"Luke, Kieran!" you bellow, before Sylus can even get a huff of air out to call out to you a third time. If he weren't a perfectly well-mannered gentleman, he'd have stomped his foot on the ground and harrumphed like Lucian when refused his sweeties.

"Coming!" they yell back from upstairs, followed by a ruckus of pounding feet and the thundering of moving furniture. Odd, but not nearly as important as you blatantly walking past him in favor of fixing the camera on its stand in the middle of the living room. In the viewfinder, it frames the dark leather couch before the lit fireplace, and a charismatic Christmas tree to the side.

When you are done and have deemed the antique useless at your hands, giving it all up for Luke to tinker with later, you walk away.

Smoothing the fabric of your clothes over your thighs, once more you fail to acknowledge Sylus by the threshold of the space, and look over yourself in the mirror hanging on the wall. Only for the reflective surface to gloss over with opaque darkness from what you can assume only has a single source.

A step back is all it takes for you to hit your back against his awaiting chest. He is looming over you like a rolling storm when you look up. His hand, a snake that crawls up your waist, dances over your neck, and carefully cups your jaw in place to keep your eyes on him.

"What must I do to get you to pay attention to me?" he purrs, thumb caressing the notch below your ear, back and forth. Finally getting a good look at your features— your glowing eyes, your rouged cheeks, your darkened lips. He can't help but tongue his canines at the sight.

And when you grin, his heart stops beating altogether. "Have you been here the whole time?"

He smirks. Hums at your audacity to tease and leans down close enough to feel your breath hitch on his lips. Because no matter how you try to play it off, he is the venom that paralyses your senses. "You're doing that thing again."

Your brows knit together. The distance. The lingering. The scent of him, strong. You breathe,"What thing?"

"Playing with your food." He takes no time to swoop down and kiss you, stealing breath from your lungs and imbuing you with his own desire. You struggle to reach up to him at the strange angle, but enjoy the sweetness of his lips nonetheless.

You pull back, giggling. Shy suddenly, as you turn towards him and hide your burning face in his matching dark red sweater.

He laughs when you slap his chest, catching your fingers and dragging them over his bottom lip.

Lost in your bubble, you almost miss the voice.

"Papa kissy," Lucian points out, suddenly spawning by your feet. Looking up at you two with round eyes that blink curiously. "Papa, why?"

Sylus smiles at him, encasing you in his embrace, your shoulders supporting the weight of his arms as he leans down to answer. "I think mama looks very pretty today."

Lucian asks, "So kissy?"

"Yes."

"Oh," he nods. "Okay."

Then turns around to waddle away.

Sylus shakes his head fondly at the odd, seemingly non-fruitful encounter and turns back to you, who shares the same funny look on your face, wondering what just happened.

His arms wind around your shoulders anyway as he buries his nose in the scent of your perfume. He takes a deep breath, releasing a deep growl. Tickling the space under your ear and making you flinch away with a startled yelp. “Hey!”

That echoes, and breaks a seal you did not even know was there.

Sylus feels the change in the air before he even hears—

"Papa, no bite!" Lucian shrieks, running back to his feet.

Sylus scoffs in disbelief, mixed with a huff of laughter, as tiny claws meet the fabric of his slacks. "A— Lucian, I'm not!"

"No bite!" now Kyros circles your legs and pushes you away by the knees. "No bite, no bite!"

"I'm not!" he insists, chortling at the battalion of small children fighting him for your honor. His cries of being wrongly accused are lost to deaf ears and louder screams of injustice.

"Here!" pants Luke in that moment, coming into the room, pulling on the collar of his shirt. Having rushed in from the front door rather than from his bedroom, not that anyone really noticed. Readying himself to tell the story about not having lost the polo you gave him specifically for today and having had to run out to buy a new one— which he didn’t, obviously.

But at the chaos before him in the living room, he pauses. "What are we doing?"

Kieran walks in behind him just in time to hear Lucian yell, "Papa bite mama!"

"Eugh." Kieran gags. Luke grimaces, "Gross."

"Have'ta protect mama." Kyros tells them from his seat on your lap. He'd successfully pushed you onto the couch and curled up to you as if he were hoarding treasure. "Help, pease?"

The twins give each other a look, read your amused expression and with a shrug, jump in on the action. Aiding Lucian in his efforts to apprehend the beast. Praying Sylus doesn't put them in air jail for this later.

"Sorry about this, boss man!" says Kieran, catching Lucian by the armpits and tripping Sylus by the heels.

Luke follows up by catching him in a chair and tying his wrists with a red ribbon meant for presents. "We're just following orders. You were being a meanie."

"I didn't bite!" he exclaims, struggling. Or at least, pretending to. The ribbon really wasn't that strong. But Lucian watched him with unabashed excitement at the victory that he couldn't act any other way.

From behind them, you shout. "Yes, he did!"

"Aha!" Lucian exclaims, scrambling out of his brother's hold to climb onto Sylus's lap. "Papa, time out."

At this distance, despite it all, Sylus can't help but swipe a little kiss on an angry, puffed-up cheek. So used to the action, Lucian merely looks past it. Sylus chuckles, "Why?"

"Because—cause, you kissy is okay," Lucian's brows draw together as he tries to suture his big thoughts into a sentence that makes sense. "But bitey is no okay. Is bad and—and ouchie."

"Poor mama," Kyros laments, embracing you and petting your hair as you fake sob into his shoulder. Sylus rolls his eyes at your dramatics, still in disbelief of the betrayal.

"Poor mama," the twins sing together in their tone-deaf glory to really drive the point through. Sylus feels a headache coming along, but his cheeks hurt first from smiling. Unexpectedly having fun with the whole ordeal.

"I'm sorry," he tells Lucian slowly, to let him know he means it.

But his son is not as forgiving as his wife.

"Time out. No pee-ture." Lucian says firmly, crossing his arms over his chest. Looking a lot like you when you scold them. "Just sit and tink."

"Oh, angel, come on." Sylus tries not to snort and make things worse when Lucian scrambles down his legs and almost loses his footing at the bottom. "I want to be in the picture. I'm family."

"Family no bite family!" declares Lucian, walking back over to the couch and leaving Sylus just by the corner to sulk. Sylus keeps a comment about having been bitten many other times by both his little twins behind pursed lips as he lets his son have the win.

And so there you sit, before the camera, on the couch between your four boys in burgundy polos and your bird in a bow-tie. The children sit ramrod straight, looking into the camera with round cheeks and a determination to keep very still.

Sylus takes the moment to take his own photo in his mind. Watching you round together and hold the babies close. Gaze softening as Luke and Kieran make faces to get the littles to break. Your gentle smile at the camera, turning to him, telling him that your mind isn't as far away from where his is currently.

Sylus watches as you whisper something to Lucian. Then, soon Lucian is coming back over to him and climbing back on his legs. "Yes?"

"Papa..." Lucian says through pouty lips. Unable to look up at Sylus, he focuses his efforts on twiddling with a loose thread on Sylus's shirt. "It not family pee-ture if no papa."

"Oh?" Sylus melts, tilting his head to catch Lucian's eye. "Shall I come join you then?"

"Yes." Lucian murmurs. "Please..."

"Alright," in as little effort as it takes, Sylus breaks free from his ribbon bond and cradles his son close to his heart. Kissing the crown of his head, he whispers. "Good job protecting mama."

"Yeah." Lucian whispers back, snuggling himself closer in the embrace. Pride surges through his body at the praise. He doesn't like arguments after all.

"Papa!" Kyros cheers when he joins you all on the couch. All eyes are on him as he slots himself in the space behind you to stand over your family, while carrying Lucian in his arms. The camera clicks.

"Me carry!" says Kyros, climbing over you to reach Sylus too. Now both toddlers are in his arms and the big twins scoot closer to you. The camera clicks with a flash.

It triggers Mephisto's wings to spread and a feather catches the corner of Kieran's eye. He yowls in pain and Luke bursts out laughing. Your mouth is poised to scold him. The camera clicks.

You switch places. You stand beside Sylus, Mephisto on his shoulder. Each twin carries a little twin. You all smile— the camera doesn't click.

Luke groans—it's his camera after all— and stands to fix it.

"Okay, so this isn't as quick and easy as I thought it would be," you admit quietly to Sylus, leaning your head on his shoulder while on standby.

"Yeah? Which part of this process gave you that impression?" Sylus whispers back, a sly grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. "When you chose to ignore me or when you betrayed me?"

You roll your eyes, choosing to ignore his woes. "Maybe next time we hire a professional."

"Or you don't lie to our kids and say I bit you."

"Sylus!"

He laughs, drawing you closer to his warmth by your hips and leaning down. "I think it's fun, sweetie. I'm glad we did this."

"Yeah?" Your worried smile brightens just that little bit when he presses a reassuring kiss to your forehead. In the background, Luke curses, and his siblings gasp at the bad word. Lucian begins to scold him.

"Yes," he affirms. Then in your ear, "Only if you'd have told the truth—"

"Oh, Sylus!" You grit and dig your teeth into his collarbone.

"Ready!" Luke shouts, launching himself into the sofa.

The camera clicks, capturing chaos in one frame.

"Ouch." Sylus deadpans, flat and knowing—out loud. Loud enough for the children to hear and turn to you both in your red-handed state. With your frustrated fangs digging into the knit of their father's neck, eyes wide and startled like a rabid rodent. Only your eyes more to the side—to see them gaping at you.

Kyros is the first to speak. Disbelief in his gasp as he points to you like a cryptid revealed. "Mama bite."

You unlatch. "No—"

"MAMA BITE!" the big twins, once again, join together in a dissonant duet. Summoning Lucian to raise his fat, mitteny fist of justice.

"Angel—"

"Time out!"

—

"This one looks good," says Sylus, handing you the printed photo of you and Luke tied to the chair as punishment for your crimes.

"Ha-ha," you glare, knocking your temple onto his. You twist yourself into a more comfortable position on his lap. His grip around your waist tightens, and his chin hooks onto your shoulder—closeness his closure.

Sifting through more photos the faulty camera had taken, you struggle to find a decent picture where you were all in the frame, looking at the camera and smiling like a good, respectable family. Frustration bubbles just beneath the surface.

Meanwhile, Sylus seems to be having the time of his life.

"I'm keeping this," Sylus says again, sliding the photo of you biting him to the side of his desk.

"Oh, I got one," the picture you find is one of the first ones. With everyone smiling up at Sylus and Lucian when they reconciled. Sylus takes it to inspect it.

You hold a happy Kyros in your lap as you grin up at him. Luke and Kieran have also turned a quarter way around to see, fond looks on their faces that mimic an almost smile. And Lucian looks at him, bright eyes and an open mouth mid-utterance. And himself— grinning proudly at his glowing ball of sunshine.

Softly, he says to himself. "Hm, I like this too."

And now, you see Sylus as well.

Still, reduced to a being felled by what he created. Gazing into a chasm of desires he cannot fathom seeing, let alone possessing in this lifetime.

Here, gazing upon his family. You see him as he is, as who he truly loves to be.

thank you for requesting this! & thank u for readingg! ❆☃︎

[jinxysmidcentury]

1950s greeting card

[ms-blossom]

oh!! what a beautiful surprise!!

[bunnyluvx]

my last big test is tomorrow. i'd be lying to you if i said i'm not nervous. i don't lose anything if i don't pass, but i want to continue to succeed. i have only retaken one test for as long as i have been continuing my education, and that was a practice test. please keep me in your thoughts. thank you for being here to listen. 🩷

[memephi]

crawling out from under my own bed once again for another update--

[thecutestgrotto]

For all my fellow college students suffering this finals week, here’s Drumstick in his new Cow-fit

He believes in moo! 💗🐮

About to knock out this five page paper due in eight hours, but I might make this my new profile picture since I haven’t changed it in almost 2 years

[eatyourmirror]

nothing like posting a fic and watching typos you’ve never met in your life bloom like mold. i fear no god today.

[thechaoticarchivist]

Typos are proof of tired eyes, racing minds, and a story that is burning inside your mind so much to get out, that your fingers misstep in a hurry.

A writer's burden - but one we can all share and support each other through.