— the spell in my blood,

the ache & the balm.

[ragebaits]

&.  𝐑 𝐀 𝐆 𝐄 𝐁 𝐀 𝐈 𝐓 𝐒  ,  a  private MULTIMUSE  blog  written  by  east  (  featuring 𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐎 from JJBA.  )  every muse a love letter to zero's muses. 21+.  personal writing blog , do not follow this blog. 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐃   !

[zookhini]

Ham and rice fanart

[ragebaits]

i literally finished 5 parts of jojo in 10 days just so i could write jotaro and josuke and risotto and abbacchio and

[doujinshi]

thinkin about prosciutto again

[fursona69]

[doujinshi]

im talking about the food who the hell is that

[ragebaits]

hi east how does it feel to finally get into jojo life changing right i knew u were gonna love it heh heh

[mil0-rawrr]

date idea

[zvdohu]

Mr. Kujo 🐬🌟 His part 4 outfit will always be my favourite~

Also my commissions are open! If anyone is interested please check out my recent post about my Ko-Fi where my comms are available or my insta where there is a link in my bio tyy 😊💖

[oxyisgone]

my bad didn't mean 2 attach myself 2 u like an abandoned dog

[conceptofjoy]

big fan of characters who have it all under control when theyre put in situations but no idea how to be like a regular guy doing regular stuff when all is said and done.

[soarien]

first attempt at moze

[kyrraen]

Dont ask me the color of anything...

[lovebaits-deactivated20260420]

cont. from here / @ragebaits

rover recalls his first impression of calcharo well. and frankly, it was not much different from how the man actually behaved on a standard basis. the distinctions were subtle, presenting themselves in the details of things; a discreet furrow of brows, a small curve on the very edge of his lips, the slight widening of his gaze. calcharo’s expressions were dosed in soft gestures, and with time, rover was rather proud to say that he had come to notice and interpret far better than most. then again, he possessed the advantage of being glued to his side nearly every single day, which offered him the privilege which, so far, only he was privy to. and rover had every intention to keep it that way.

the tender teasing that comes as a retort to his equally provoking request from before makes him smile, golden eyes lowering a tad as he attempts to fold his knees up on the floor. his ankle seems fine, too, if slightly sore with the abruptness of his fall. “pfft, come on! how is that any relevant to the mission?” either way, the amusement on his features persists. calcharo wasn’t one to often indulge anyone in kind, not even through sarcasm. so, to rover, that seemingly insignificant exchange has much more value than many others he had been forced to partake in with other people.

a small grunt of effort leaves his lips once the other’s hand reaches for his, and rover almost has the mind to calcharo down with him so that, too, can be included in the report. he resists the temptation, though, putting effort instead into balancing himself on his two feet once he manages to be pulled up, nearly bumping against calcharo’s frame due to slippery asphalt beneath. a sigh escapes past his lips once he finds himself steady enough, only to realize that there was almost no distance left in between the two of them. the acknowledgement comes with a rush of warmth that flushes his skin, increasing at the sensation of the feel of calcharo’s breath brushing on his cheek.

“this? no, this is nothing—uh,” the response comes in a sort of automatic fashion before his golden eyes drift downwards, missing the moment where calcharo’s ice blue eyes lower and hover over his lips. the surge of blood in his ears becomes louder than the sound of cars and traffic from the next street, the thrumming of his heart ringing and the odd, but familiar shudder in the tip of his stomach urging a shiver to run down his spine. how difficult it was to stand before someone you adored like this and find oneself unable to act, paralyzed by the weight of the sentiments you cannot sort out. 

but calcharo’s following gesture returns his attention, with the touch and pats of his hand on the curve of his back and behind of all places making him squirm a tad where he stood. “i’m good. thanks.” a softer chuckle parts from his mouth, a tad more awkward and slightly flustered than the usual, but genuine all the same. his kindness was something else that would often catch rover by surprise, not for calcharo wasn’t particularly gentle, but he simply was not the sort who would go out of his way to act so. either way, he’s amidst testing his footing so he doesn’t slip yet again when he hears the other’s words. and so, he looks at him out of habit, but calcharo’s arms are surrounding him way before he can formulate his question. “hey, wait—!” oh, but he ends up cradled on his hold far sooner than he can protest, with his side against his chest and arm inadvertently hanging over his shoulder. “tsk, as if falling on my ass would be enough to cause any significant damage.”

there is a hint of stubbornness in his tone, but his demeanor is surprisingly timid, greatly betraying his outspoken and usual lively behavior. calcharo was often the only who managed to draw such reactions from him, even more so with such unexpected actions that left very little room for anything else that wasn’t some measure of bewilderment and embarrassment. but as his golden irises scan his sharp traits now, it at last downs to him that never before had they been so overly close as this, to the point he could spot the differences in color of his eyes, where the blue was darker closer to the pupils and lighter around the edges. and the silver of his hair that framed his chiseled visage looked even lighter and glimmering from this distance, as if now he could finally see him in a manner that their difference in stature never allowed in the past.

rover seldom takes notice how even nearer his face is of the other’s, marveled as he is by the novelty of it. even the other passerby which crossed them on the street blurred into the overall background, leaving nothing but calcharo as the center figure of this piece. and rover, in all his entitlement and greed, desired nothing but to be part of it like he belongs there, with him, in the surprisingly comfortable grip of his arms. never had he entertained the idea of having calcharo holding him this way, but he knows his imagination wouldn’t have even had made this moment justice no matter how much it tried. but this was no delusion, it was real. or so it felt. and as if to test it—or that was an excuse rover made up to justify his own actions to himself—, he closes in the distance even further, with his free hand, reddish and cold from the snow, cupping the side of calcharo’s cheek to gain his attention, having his lips meeting his the very moment the other would have turned his head to him. it’s impulsive and eager, but also gentle and languid, with dark lashes fluttering shut as a soft exhale leaves in the form of a sigh through his nostrils.

rover expects calcharo to break the kiss at any given time, but that does not prevent him from indulging his boldness to deepen the gesture a bit on his own. the fragrance of his cologne and taste of his mouth are intoxicating enough to draw him in even more, to want to lose himself in that action he knows might end up being one-sided and rejected. but at this point in time, the truth was simply that he could not hold back anymore. not when the opportunity finally made itself presentable like this, merely waiting for him to claim it. and claim he did. once, twice, thrice—for as long as calcharo allowed him to keep going, to explore the heat of his mouth with his tongue, to acquaint itself with its flavor, its ways. its wants. 

“i won’t say i’m sorry,” he murmurs against his lips, moist and soft, right before he steals a swifter kiss. “i’m not. i’ve wondered how it felt for months. and now i have my answer,” the smile adorning his countenance is boyish and content as he pulls his face back a tad, golden eyes faintly lidded by dark lashes. his thumb brushes over the line of his jawbone tenderly, just as his palm slips to cup the crook of his neck and his nose grazes on the tip of his. “don’t include this in the report, though. i don’t wanna have to explain it to my uncle.”

[ragebaits]

diligence, among many other qualities, is something calcharo values above all else, no matter what task lies before him. whether it is the smallest of household chores or the most demanding of responsibilities tied to his work, he approaches everything with the same unwavering consistency. his method is steady, planned, and always executed with care. there is no rushing, no cutting corners, no careless mistakes if he can help it. in truth, hurried jobs are among the things he despises most. something about the sloppiness of a rushed result feels hollow, unworthy of being claimed as his own effort. over time, he has refined his approach to near perfection, building routines he can follow almost minute by minute when carrying out a mission, rehearsed so carefully that everything has its place and time.

and yet, rover often disrupts that order. with a streak of unpredictability, he finds new, experimental ways to twist plans off their rails, shifting the course in directions calcharo would never have considered. apparently, he is no different in private, because it is there, too, where rover finds the means to catch him completely off guard. calcharo cannot pinpoint the moment it happens, one second he is ready to have to scold rover for potentially suggesting something impractical, like limping back to the hotel on an injured ankle, and the next he is utterly silenced by the press of lips against his own. of all the ways calcharo imagined rover might shut him up, a kiss had not been one of them. yet here it is, sudden and so unexpected, and perhaps worse than that, he enjoys it.

the realization strikes almost immediately. as soon as his mind catches up to what his body already knows, he recognizes the truth. he likes it. oh, he can’t even deny it. he has thought about kissing rover before, fleetingly, against his better judgment. he has wondered about the taste, the feel, and, inevitably, what they would say to one another afterward. each of those moments when he avoided acting, letting curiosity simmer unspoken, feels wasted now. this feeling has been building for some time, growing out of the quiet in-between moments, out of sidelong glances and the subtle pull of wanting to be nearer. at first, he told himself it was simple, a responsibility. he was rover’s senior, his mentor, the one who would share in the blame for every misstep. that was enough reason to keep close, to pay attention, to carry the weight of their work together. but as days turned into weeks and weeks into months, something else began to take root, something harder to explain away. it began like the smallest seed of “what if,” sparked by chance encounters back at headquarters, by briefings where their eyes would find each other across the room. 

calcharo wanted to work alongside him. he wanted to stand at his side even when it was not his role to do so. he wanted, above all else, to protect him — even when no protection was needed. somewhere along the way, duty had given way to something deeper. he has come to care for rover in a way he has never admitted, not even to himself. and now, with this kiss, those hidden feelings finally rise to the surface, inescapable as they force him to acknowledge them.

languid, unhurried, careful, and impossibly warm. the kiss sweeps over calcharo’s senses until everything else begins to fade. the chill in the air becomes a distant thing, something easily forgotten. even the sting of snow against his skin dissolves beneath the heat of rover’s touch, melting into nothing beneath those steady fingertips. what lingers instead is the scent of rover, his breath, his faint perfume, so subtle but so consuming that it deepens the haze surrounding calcharo’s thoughts. for a suspended moment, he cannot tell if this is real, or if his imagination has finally betrayed him. but then rover does not stop, he steals another kiss, and another, and then one more still, as though this were a habit, as though it were something the two of them had always done. it should raise questions, endless ones, but all those questions collide, stack, and spiral in calcharo’s mind until they leave him standing still, muted by confusion and disbelief. for an instant he does nothing, caught in the storm of it all, until instinct, stronger than hesitation, wills him forward. slowly at first, and then with a certainty that surprises even himself, calcharo answers. one kiss returned. then another, stolen in turn. his lips press against rover’s without regret, without calculation, with no room left for doubt. whatever words rover tries to shape between them are swallowed, lost in the press of mouths, though calcharo still hears them in a way, catches their meaning between the breaks, the breaths.

briefly, his lips curve into a small smile, fleeting but genuine, a quiet acknowledgment of the impossible thing happening between them. the smile lingers even as he leans in again, searching one last time for the taste of rover, unwilling to let the moment pass so easily. his heart drums wildly against the cage of his chest, every beat loud enough to echo in his own ears. a deafening beat that he’s almost certain rover could hear too. and without thought, without command, his arms tighten around rover’s frame, drawing him closer, keeping him there, as though holding on might keep the kiss from ending too soon.

❝ months ? ❞ it is the first word that slips past calcharo’s lips, falling into the air like a question that doesn’t demand an answer, only the reassurance of being heard. rover has been carrying this thought for months, a while longer than calcharo dares admit he has himself. both of them have lived with the same quiet battle. the want for more, the uncertainty of what should or shouldn’t be asked for, the constant risk of misread signals and the silence of unspoken ones. ❝ you have been wanting this for months ? ❞ so then, the scarf around his neck comes undone, wrapped over rover’s shoulders instead, tucking the sides of his face into some extra warmth. and walking helps, if only as a temporary distraction. even though calcharo’s strides are shorter than usual and his pace subdued, he makes excellent work of leading them through the snow, each careful step accompanied by the muffled sound of his voice, confusion heavy in its tone. the traffic around them disappears into the background, a blur against the far more pressing rhythm of his thoughts. when the hotel finally comes into view, its warm lights spill across the snow, painting the path ahead until the entrance glows like a beacon.

❝ ah, and please, do not apologize. ❞ a few steps before the doors, calcharo slows. reluctantly, he sets rover down, though he doesn’t let go. their hands remain linked for a moment, fingers twined together in a grip that is steady but unforced. he follows at rover’s side like that, close enough to feel the warmth of him through the cold air. at the entrance, calcharo frees his hand to pull the door open. yet he doesn’t move aside immediately. instead, he pauses, his body leaning in almost instinctively. ❝ i wanted it. ❞ one hand holds the door, the other slips easily to rover’s waist, a quiet claim that steadies him from behind. ❝ more than you know. ❞ his chin grazes the top of rover’s shoulder, lips brushing faintly against the curve of his ear, too brief to linger, too intentional to be dismissed. ❝ i wanted you. ❞ then, with practiced ease, calcharo shifts back, his expression unreadable as he pulls the door wider, motioning for rover to step through first.

[ragebaits]

"please, accept these as a token of my regards." well, that came out rather stiff. castorice frowns down at the bouquet clutched in her hands. a token of regards sounds like something one might offer to a distant ally or perhaps a friendly neighbour. mydeimos is neither of those things, but it's been difficult to find the right flowers to offer to him because there isn't a polite way of saying 'i wish i could live inside your ribcage'. she tries again. "i mean... i wanted to give you something nice. because i was thinking about you." 

she shuffles a little bit awkwardly and holds out that gathering of flowers. perhaps it's a strange thing to offer. to castorice, flowers say affection in all the ways she struggles to. she did not include antila flowers, because those are for funeral wreaths, but she did ensure the colours were reminiscent of the autumn-like reds and golds she associates with him. to mydeimos, do flowers hold the same meaning? 

"i am romancing you. in case that wasn't clear." a half-smile, perhaps a little playful, graces her features. she imagines that became clear somewhere between all her longing stares in his direction and - more recently - her desire to reach out and touch him at any given moment. "you may proceed to swoon, now, if you wish."

@starspurn / cas pls not the ribcage !!!

castorice wouldn’t be the first person to offer mydeimos a gift, a token of her regards, or simply an extended hand in the form of colorful and lively flowers. tokens of gratitude were often declined by him, unless given by children, in which case he would be reluctant to admit that he might have a bleeding heart with a soft spot. and, of course, if the little gift comes from castorice herself. because she is not another kremnoan that looks up to him with reverence that he does not consider properly earned, nor is she an innocent child that knows no better. no, mydei has trouble naming whatever this is, though castorice attempt to at least shape an outline of what they are is far more straightforward today than what he could have ever expected. his gaze darts from the flowers, vibrant reds and heated gold blending together in what seems like a handcrafted masterpiece, then back to castorice’s countenance that exceeds the flowers in brilliance. 

❝ oh ? i was afraid it was something else for a second. ❞ there are rare times where mydei can indulge in the joys of playfulness, where the playing field feels easy to navigate and he does not feel as though he is falling behind. this is one of those times, lips naturally forming a smile that softens the otherwise stoic expression on his face, ridding him of the tired wrinkle between his brows as his expression becomes less tense.  ❝ a bribe perhaps, or an apology for having wronged me although i wasn’t aware of what you’ve done yet. ❞ his voice continues, the same tone delivering each word in the same melody as his hands reach for the bouquet of flowers. fingertips cannot resist but to brush over the back of her hand, just the faintest most fleeting touch, then retracted to bring the flowers closer to his own chest. 

❝ consider me over the moon. ❞ this time, more genuine as he speaks. ❝ romanced beyond belief. ❞ a warm, low chuckle follows his words this time, eyes shut as his free hand cards through blond strands of hair. ❝ i was meaning to see you later today, i finished the book you lent me. ❞ clearing his throat, mydei brings his hand up to play with one of the flower petals. ❝ it was surprisingly interesting, quite outside of what i normally read. as to expect, when you were the one suggesting it. ❞ his head dips in a small nod, voice humming in quiet approval. ❝ i won’t flatter you too much, one of us swooning is enough as it is, no ? ❞

[ragebaits]

there was comfort to be felt in mundanity, particularly when such moments almost felt rare in comparison to the actual occurrences that would dominate much of rover’s life. a warm meal after a day of work—or a life threatening and extremely compromising mission—was likely one of his favorite parts, even more so when shared with his assigned mentor. calcharo was likely his uncle’s most trusted man, or was certainly amongst them given his experience, loyalty and the praise many of the organization would remark—though mostly behind his back. the man was quiet, one would judge even taciturn, organized to a fault. intimidating would perhaps be another way to describe him, as his imposing stature and quiet demeanor could certainly cause an impression. but not to rover. oh, not to say he was not admired by calcharo the very moment they were introduced and acquainted, but rover was not one to frighten easily—and in the beginning, he even felt some sympathy for having calcharo take the position of his, well, babysitter, no need to sugarcoat there. 

and yet, despite his antics, which were not only a few, calcharo hardly seemed to mind—no, that wasn’t accurate. but he did hold his own far better than he would have given him credit for at first, certain that he would be the first to make an extensive report to the boss as proof of how his carefree behavior was unfitting to be part of the organization as a whole, let alone to one day lead it. he couldn’t have been more wrong. and not only about his assumptions, but of how much calcharo would come to grow on him beyond what would be wise or recommended.

rover doesn’t even know how it began, if he had to stop to ponder over it. it has been a couple of months since they have been working together, some jobs having more chaotic results than others—thanks to himself, of course, and no one else. and yet, he cannot recall what was the turning point, the moment where his respect for this stoic man turned into something far more humbling, tender and fiery. but he does know that ever since, whatever was that enveloping and warm feeling that swirled in his chest every time he and calcharo were together, was growing stronger, wider and bolder, sometimes being even difficult to keep it at bay, to keep it contained. but the field was hardly the best place to profess his overwhelming affections to someone who probably saw him as nothing but an overly confident brat that would inevitably become his boss one day.

more often than not, though, he managed to keep his mind off his complicated feelings, at least amidst work he did. but they were prickly and enjoyed resurfacing in quieter occasions, such as amidst a shared dinner in some tiny noodle bar, or like this, as they walked side by side in the veil of a rather cold evening towards the hotel they were staying for the night. it had snowed considerably while they ate their rather deserved meal, which despite being on the cheap side, was still tasty enough to make it worth the price. it was also rover’s treat, his subtle way of paying for a debt nobody asked him to, as sure as hell nobody had asked calcharo to take the blame and punishment for an assignment that ended in failure because of him. but what was done was done, and rover cannot say the action did not move him—it did, and upset him in equal measure.

the snow was reaching the middle of his calf as they marched through it, the breeze making the frigid air even more disagreeable. “this is so fucking annoying,” he groans with a pained sigh that follows, stomping his way through the white sidewalk as he feels the ice seeping in the fabric of his tailored black slacks. glancing up at calcharo who’s a tad further ahead, he tries to catch up with him by walking faster, forgetting to consider that there the asphalt below the path of snow could be both frozen and slippery. and it’s mid-sentence as he calls for him that the sole of his sleek black leather shoes glide on the ice, making him lose his balance and fall with his behind flat on the ground. it happens so awfully fast that rover’s mind only registers when he’s already seated on the floor, with the soreness being felt almost immediately after, along with the moistness from the ice beneath. and when it finally clicks, the laugh that leaves his lips is instantaneous as it is genuine, with both hands shoved in the snow by the side of his leg as his head slightly tilts up to glance at calcharo who walked back in his direction.

“fuck, this was ridiculous,” with flushed cheeks because of the biting chill in the air, golden irises look through dark lashes at the other, almost abashed in the way the smile which accompanied his amusement from before curves softly on his lips. “no telling my uncle about this, okay? this won’t go on the report,” in the past, maybe he would have been genuinely embarrassed by such a clumsiness, especially in front of calcharo of all people. but the other had seen him in far more unflattering situations amidst missions that hadn’t gone as planned, so this would hardly be a turning point in any unfavorable opinions calcharo could have about him. “a hand?” he asks with a slight movement of his head to the side, stretching his arm out after shaking off some of the snow that clung to his hand. “it wouldn’t be nice if i got up by myself and fell on my ass again. It would be funny, though, can’t deny that.” a quiet chuckle follows at the brief mental image of the pathetic scenario, with a little sigh coming right after it as he meets calcharo’s gaze and briefly waves his arm up and down to reinforce his request. “please, calcharo?”

@1fff000/ hewwo zewo pewo

at first, calcharo had been caught off guard when he was assigned to watch over rover. plenty of others at his rank had volunteered. eager, unsubtle, and without hesitation. yet the boss himself had chosen calcharo for the task. to him, it felt like a waste of time, at least that’s what he assumed when he knew nothing of rover beyond reputation. his assumptions, however, did him no favors. spoiled, rich, stubborn to the point of insufferable — that was the picture calcharo painted in his head. and he never bothered hiding his distaste for those pulling the strings, even if loyalty to the job kept him steady. his gripes with the families ran deep, and this assignment was no exception. still, he’d never let that interfere with doing his work well.

to his surprise, rover turned out nothing like he’d imagined. yes, there was stubbornness, that much had been easy to predict. but alongside it came something unexpected. a playfulness, a skill far beyond what calcharo would have wagered on. altogether, the boy was a pleasant surprise, though calcharo would most certainly rather die than ever admit it aloud.

after the first few weeks with rover, days stitched together by tasks, missions, and the kind of constant presence that left no space for distance— it had become second nature for calcharo to rely on him. that in itself was unusual. calcharo was not someone known for trust, let alone for opening up to people he barely knew, yet somehow rover had managed to carve out a place within that guarded wall. often in ways so effortless, so unbearably smooth, that it drove calcharo to the brink of frustration simply because he couldn’t quite figure out how the younger man managed it.

rover seemed built of contradictions. one moment, every move appeared meticulously calculated, as if each step had been plotted long before it was ever taken, only for him to later confess it had all been improvisation. and then, when he flitted about in a carefree display of spontaneity, calcharo would discover that every flourish had been a thread in some larger, unseen design. he was charming, but never so much that it became cloying. he was loud enough to be heard, to fill a space with his presence, but never in a way that brought unwanted eyes. he was careful when it mattered, yet carried just enough bluntness to shut down argument before it could begin.

and through it all, he was happy — or at least, he appeared to be. there was something about him, a spark, an energy that seemed to radiate from the way he moved. his steps were at once determined and impossibly light, like he was both grounded and floating at the same time. unpredictable to the point of exasperation, yet always falling into a rhythm that calcharo found himself oddly attuned to. a tune he had come to enjoy, to cherish even. or perhaps, though he hated to entertain the thought, it wasn’t the rhythm at all that pulled him in. perhaps it was rover himself that calcharo enjoyed.

then it happens almost too quickly, the slip of rover’s leather shoes on the ice hidden beneath a thick coat of dusty snow, the way he was mid-complaint one moment and sprawled ungracefully on the ground the next. and yet, just as swiftly, he continues his griping, only this time between bursts of laughter, bright and unrestrained, the sound ringing sharp in calcharo’s ears as he slows to a halt. calcharo stands there with his hands buried deep in the pockets of his coat, a dark purple scarf draped loosely once around his neck. strands of white hair fall freely down his back, a few framing his face, shifting gently with the winter air. that face, so rarely moved by anything, betrays the smallest flicker of surprise. nothing dramatic, of course, calcharo has never been one for overt displays, but even the faintest crack in his usual indifference is enough to mark the moment.

❝ mhm, i don’t know... ❞ it would almost be pitiful to look down at rover where he sits, if not for the lighthearted way he carries himself through most things. he seems immune to embarrassment, as though every stumble he makes is another deliberately staged stunt, meant to charm rather than shame. even now, his fall looks less like an accident and more like something endearingly amusing, the kind of mishap that invites people to laugh with him, never at him. ❝ keeping this out of the report would be negligent of me. ❞  

yet, calcharo leans forward, still looming over rover as he sits in the snow with one hand outstretched, waving insistently in a silent demand for help. at length, calcharo obliges, his own hand closing around rover’s to pull him up. it doesn’t take much to realize just how unsteady rover really is, the younger man nearly topples into his chest from a tug that wasn’t firm to begin with. calcharo’s gaze trails downward as he shifts back, eyes catching on rover’s ankle, the one that barely bears his weight, the one that must have slipped.

❝ did you hurt your ankle ? ❞ when he straightens, they’re suddenly standing closer than ever before, practically chest to chest. the gold in rover’s eyes catches his attention despite himself, and the faint brush of breath against his skin feels like too much to ignore. calcharo holds still, breath caught in his throat as his gaze flickers down for just a second too long, towards rover's lips, only a fleeting glance, one he forces himself to dismiss as meaningless. it can't mean anything. it has to mean nothing.

❝ uh, wait. ❞ to distract himself, he shifts again, allowing rover to brace against his arm if needed. with his free hand, he brushes the snow from the back of rover’s coat, careful not to miss a single spot, fingertips continuing their careful path down the back of his legs and thighs until the last of the dusted snow is gone. only then does he circle back in front of him.

❝ allow me, the hotel is not too far away. ❞ this time, calcharo doesn’t hesitate. he leans down and lifts rover sideways into his arms, sparing the injured ankle any further strain. ❝ if i bring you back all dented i might lose my deposit. ❞ the tone of his voice is light, somewhat playful, but once again his gaze betrays him, catching on rover’s flushed cheeks, red with cold yet somehow too warm to ignore. clearing his throat, calcharo adjusts his hold and nods toward the hotel ahead, forcing his attention to zone in elsewhere, even as the weight in his arms feels far heavier and closer than intended. ❝ hold on tight now. ❞

[mist-of-flowers]

original poem : i can still see your wings

2nd attempt at contrapuntal poetry, this took way longer than i expected (;﹏;)

[mournfulroses]

Catherynne M. Valente, from her novel titled "The Melancholy of a Mechagirl," originally published in 2023

[inkpressedpetals]