Bunni and Bosque
Bunni and Bosque is a tragic romance (some smut involved) between the healthiest horned person in civilization and the last of a dying people.
I just published the second chapter. As an intro to the world, here is Bunni’s introduction (originally posted on Instagram). All art was done by @the-vulgar-knight.
If you want to be added to the tag list for Bunni and Bosque specific posts, go on ahead and ask or whatever.
I added all the writing at the bottom in case the images don’t work for some people.
You can find the story (including chapter one) on my website, my Wattpad, and my medium publication. I can’t remember if I published chapter one here, but I will eventually if I didn’t. Enjoy!
There will be a dedicated website for this and all the stories in this universe, but I’m lazy and haven’t finished. So later for that.
IMAGE ONE:
BUNNI TIVAH INTRO
WRITTEN BY TREY BRIGGS
ART BY KOKAB ZOHOORI-DOSSA
IMAGE TWO:
Bunni and Bosque tells the tragic story of Bunni Tivah, a Prima with a future she doesn't want, and Bosque, a Nameless with no future at all.
Bunni and Bosque understand exactly who they are as individuals. They know what is expected of them on their set courses. Their families look to them to carry on names and traditions that shaped their very lives, but neither finds simple tasks in survival.
Bunni lives. Bosque dies.
So who is Bunni?
IMAGE THREE:
Bunni Tivah is a Prima that loves things that hurt, fun that stains, and anything that destroys a reputation. She is the daughter of the newest head of the Tivah dynasty, Igna Tivah, and an eccentric but devastating father who believes a name is everything. While her parents rarely leave Tivah land, Bunni travels into the city quite often to get into as much trouble as possible.
She’s a sucker for love over violence, a brute when it comes to taking pain, and all-around fun to know. But Bunni is marred by the perfection expected from not only the world but her family and friends. Where everyone else sees a need for stature and purpose, Bunni just wants to get dirty and live a little.
Tivahs are known for their flat horns and impeccable health, even going so far as to supply the cells for every medical advance in The Country. They're known for expanding wealth and the tense love/hate relationship they have with less prominent families, history, and the truth.
Bunni is trapped by her family's actions throughout history, even when she ventures off of Tivah land.
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Tivahs don't get to live solitary lives. There's the name to think about. There's the reputation to build. There's the lies to tell, the power to grab, and so much duty that the flat horns could come from pressure alone.
Tivahs are clean, and that’s that.
If you spend any time in Notion, you’ll learn about The Tivahs. Chances are you won’t hear about Bunni in a positive light.
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There is no abandoning the Tivah name. Not without consequences. And Bunni finds herself trapped marrying her brother's widow, expected to assume the responsibilities of her family in his absence. The future for Bunni is mapped and charted.
IMAGE SIX:
In Bosque, Bunni finds a bigger reason to abandon her name. She understands more than ever why her mother ran. She dreads the future that will take him from her, and the one that will ultimately treat her well.
IMAGE SEVEN:
Every step I take on Tivah land is a walk of shame
That happens even if I do what I'm supposed to do. Even with my hair cascading down my back like my eldest aunt likes, even with my long legs covered and my head held high, even with my corset piercings wasted under a full shirt, I walk with the weight of mistakes made before I was born. Even opening the door to my small home, pulling my sandals on and walking down the path to the main road, any eyes that land on me do so with slight disgust. Don't confuse disgust with hatred, though. They love me. They just can't stand that they do.
My real walk of shame starts as soon as I get out of bed. Unfortunately, I don't live in a volcano. I don't get to stretch and maneuver over a blazing pit of lava on a bed of molten rock. What I get is a walk through a beautiful garden filled with vapid, soulless bodies that call themselves my family. I get to feel their thoughts through hidden smiles and turned heads.
That walk of shame continues and thumps and blossoms throughout every step I make. Igna passed the disgust down to me when she ran away all those years ago. Tivahs and their ilk don't forget a defector, the defector's daughters (they forgive the sons well enough), or even their granddaughters. My mother and her siblings were the bad batch of Tivahs, and that legacy lives on in me alone. Both my favorite aunt and uncle abdicated, one of my other aunts tried, but my mother was the worst. To everyone, my mother was the most despicable, and here she was walking amongst them. Here she was, tainted with the love of some unworthy dirtball, and she dared walk around here like nothing ever happened.
I never stood a chance.
IMAGE EIGHT:
WRITTEN BY TREY BRIGGS
ART BY KOKAB ZOHOORI-DOSSA
Thanks for reading!