#so i will love as many or as few asks as you want to send :)

[omegaweiss01]

(MavuiTano Romantasy AU)

Mavuika was nervous.

She hadn't been truthful the entire time they were together, and honestly, it was ironic that the legendary Dragon Slayer, Thrain, even entered a relationship with her to begin with. Mavuika was a Dragonborn: specifically a wyrm who took the form of a human woman simply because she fell in love with a human man. Now, several months into their relationship, she worried that coming clean would ruin everything.

It took a lot to muster up the courage to confront him about it, and she hated interrupting his training, but it had to be said; otherwise, she felt she would only continue to live a lie. However, upon seeing him spar with a fellow soldier, she couldn’t help but watch him, captivated by the swift, fluid movements he made with each swing of his sword. They were calculated, precise; unbeknownst to the soldier he was sparring with, Thrain was also honing his skills with ice magic as well. Mavuika could see the frost form briefly on his and his opponent's blades, but it melted away just as quickly as it formed.

Mavuika gulped. It was no wonder Thrain took down the evil Death Tyrant, Ronova in one fell swoop.

Thrain disarmed his opponent and knocked him to the ground, aiming his sword at his sparring partner's throat. "Disappointing. You're much more capable than that," he scolded, relinquishing his blade and sheathing it. He held a hand out and helped his opponent up, who looked dejected that they had disappointed their beloved Commander so badly. Thrain then offered him a few kinder words to cheer him up and sent him on his way.

Thrain noticed Mavuika standing there, a worried look on her face. Without any explanation to his men, he went to her, a sense of anxiety bubbling in his gut. "Is everything alright?" He asked.

Mavuika gazed up at him. "Oh, no...everything is fine but..." she sighed, averting her gaze. "Can I...talk to you in private?"

Thrain turned to glance back at his men and silently signal to them that he'd be back. They gave him a collective nod and he turned back around to quietly guide Mavuika back through the stony castle walls. He kept a stoic expression, but deep down, he was worried for many things. Had Mavuika finally figured out his identity as the legendary Dragon Slayer? Did she want to call off everything because of it? And, if it really was that, would she be angry with him enough to send a legion of dragons to slaughter him and his people? He couldn’t defend his people against an entire legion. Ronova was just one dragon, after all, and he killed her in her lair.

The two finally reached a garden on the far end of the castle walls, far from the ears of any nosy maids or soldiers. Thrain took Mavuika's hand. "What ails you?" He asked softly.

Mavuika swallowed the lump forming in her throat. "So...um...would..would you still love me if I were a wyrm?"

Thrain raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, confused. Mavuika blushed, embarrassed. "N-not like an earthworm! I mean...the type of dragon. A wyrm. Because I...I am one...."

It had dawned on him, at that very moment, that Mavuika knew all along that he was the legendary slayer of her kin, and yet...

He laughed.

"Oh, my dear, I swear I'm not laughing at you. I've known this all along. Is this what had you worried?" He inquired.

His hold on her hand did not falter. Mavuika noted this and nodded silently. Thrain embraced her, still chuckling heartily. "Of course. As I said before, I've known your draconic origins all along, so the answer you seek is a resounding yes."

Mavuika finally embraced him back, feeling the weight lift off her shoulders. But then, the thought occurred to her: how did he know? She pulled away briefly. "I thought my form was flawless," she murmured.

Thrain kissed her. "Being subtle isn't your strong suit, dear," he whispered softly.

Mavuika huffed. "What's that supposed to mean?" She questioned, sounding slightly offended.

Thrain couldn't help but be amused by her reaction. "When you trusted me enough to take me to your home, it occurred to me then when I saw your cave full of riches beyond mortal comprehension that you were a dragon. But then, the idea was solidified when you cursed at a thief on the street in Dragontongue-"

Mavuika pulled away and waved her hands, embarrassed even further. "Okay, okay, I get it!" She was blushing, her face nearly as crimson as her long, wavy hair.

Thrain never once let go of her hand. He brought it up his face and kissed it gently. Mavuika smiled, elated that the air had been cleared between them; that he was willing to accept her for who-and what-she is.

But then his next question made her smile falter.

"How did you know I was the legendary Dragon Slayer?"

Mavuika pulled her hand away, averting her gaze. "I was there when you slayed Ronova. She um...she was going to eat me right when you came along...she and I had a bet, and I lost. The price was my life," she explained. "Wyrms are often the prey to dragons, as they're the bigger and more intelligent ones of all of dragonkind. That said, I lost...but you saved me."

Thrain cupped her face in his hands. There was obvious discomfort in her eyes. Mavuika met his gaze. "You were injured though. Ronova almost killed you."

Thrain remembered that night vividly. Ronova had terrorized his people for eons until he had honed his skills enough to track her down and slay her. She was the strongest opponent he had ever faced, and despite being wounded badly, he still managed to deliver the finishing blow. He hardly noticed the smaller, wingless wyrm huddled in a dark corner of the cave. He always wondered how he survived that night. "You saved me, didn't you?" His question was more of a confirmation, as he had just realized it himself.

Mavuika nodded. "I was scared of you, but I couldn't exactly let you die, either, so I assumed the form you see now and uh...bit you. My fangs injection venom," she pulled her lips back to show him her slightly elongated fangs. "But the venom I injected also has healing properties if I allow it. I learned that night that the ice magic in your body really does not like wyrm venom."

Thrain touched his neck, where he had a barely visible bite scar. "Ronova's claws cut deep; I bled out pretty quickly. I vaguely remember being in pain...but then, nothing. I awoke sometime later in the village down the mountain," he sighed, his gaze shifting toward her. "They said my wounds had been healing for several days by the time I was brought in."

"Three days and nights. You were running a horrendous fever from the reaction between your ice magic and my venom, and for a while you were thrashing about in agony too. I had no idea how to ease your suffering, and even contemplated putting you out of your misery, but...I suppose, I just wanted to even the score, but then you were all I was ever thinking about after, so..."

Thrain nodded. "You had been following me for quite some time before I finally decided to invite you to walk with me," he added, as if remembering that very moment fondly. "How awkward you were. It was...cute."

Mavuika waved her hands, embarrassed once more. "I'm far from cute in my dragon form!"

Thrain hugged her once more, kissing her forehead. "Love, I think I would find any form you took cute, be you earthworm or not," he assured. Mavuika buried her face in his chest, hiding her embarrassment. "You're the cute one..." she argued quietly.

He chuckled. "I love you," he murmured in her ear.

Mavuika inhaled deeply, taking in his scent. She exhaled slowly, lifting her gaze to meet his once more. "I love you too," she murmured back.

In the next moment, they shared a kiss that felt very different from the others. It held more passion, more promise; like a silent pledge to one another for the rest of eternity. Dragons and humans mingling was taboo in some areas of the world, but neither cared at this point. To Mavuika, Thrain was her fated mate, and Dragonborn only ever mate with one other being for the rest of their long lives. She acknowledged his humanity, his mortality, and with her kiss, she pledged to die alongside him should he go before her.

Thrain, the mighty, legendary Dragon Slayer, Duke of a small patch of territory at the base of The Great Tree of Teyvat, pledged to love this woman for the rest of his days. He would have no other, and he swore to cut down any who dared threaten her. He was certain, however, that he wouldn't need to do much.

Mavuika was a wyrm, after all.

(God, I'm so sorry if this is horribly written. I am not confident in my writing skills at all. But hey...MavuiTano, anyone?)

"Sorry, I didn’t make myself clear. I wasn’t asking ‘Would you still love me if I were a worm?’ What I meant to say is ‘Would you still love me if I were a WYRM.’ ...Because I am." "What?"

[markscherz]

We love you Dr. Scherz!

Also, who else can I message on Tumblr to ask really weird and specific questions about frogs for my fantasy story?

I need a cold weather amphibian, specifically. While magical, it's much more fun to use something that somewhat exists in the real world and make it magical!

So, of the amphibians that survive in the cold weather, which of those live in foresty areas? And of those that are in there, how do they survive? What do they look like?

ARE THERE BIOLUMINESCENT FROGS???

Thanks! I don't really know who else would be suitable. I'll do my best to help.

There really are not a lot of cold-weather amphibians. I think you probably want Boreorana sylvatica (formerly Rana sylvatica or Lithobates sylvaticus), the Wood Frog. They live in forests and can freeze solid and thaw again when the cold passes.

Other than them, there is the European analog, Rana temporaria, and the Siberian salamander, Salamandrella keyserlingii. I do not know how these cope with the cold, but I imagine in a way very similar to B. sylvatica. You can read a bit about cold adaptations in the former in this paper, if you can get access to it (I am sure you can message the authors to ask for the paper and they will be happy to send you a free PDF—NEVER PAY THE PUBLISHER!).

No bioluminescent frogs, but there are quite a few that glow under UV. Boana punctata was the first to have this revealed, but it has since been found to be present in MANY amphibians. Additionally, some species have bones close enough to the surface to reveal the natural UV-fluorescence of their bones. Especially Brachycephalus toadlets have this.

Hope that helps!

[harmonyrae]

Knight of Passion

Synopsis: You’ve written to him for 16 years, you know him better than you know yourself. When he returns home from the battlefield you’re shocked to find out he’s being honored… by the Queen herself. Oh, and he wants to finally meet you, face-to-face. 

AN: This is my FIRST Caleb fic, so I am still learning how to write him. I will be honest, I am not a fan of the nickname pipsqueak BUT I found a way to incorporate it!

Content Warnings: SFW (future works could have NSFW elements fyi), plot & angst, injury & blood, death of parental figures mentioned, Knight Caleb be doing things to me dude (send help), FMC struggles with body image 

Word Count: 5.7k

“Mama… I- I can barely breathe!” 

After what feels like hours, your mother finally stops trying to pull your dress down over your hips. You’ve always had a wider frame than your sisters, but it seems your body knew about your debut and wanted to offer a surprise. Just one winter was all it took for you to finally grow breasts. Your hips followed suit and when the snow melted you couldn’t fit into any of your spring dresses. Your mother found a dress for the debut ceremony at the palace, but you hadn’t gotten the chance to go shopping for more.

“I’m sorry darling, we will have Miss Julia come by tomorrow to get your measurements. You can tell her exactly what kind of dresses you want. I’ll put a rush on the order and you should have your dresses before the first ball.”

“But what am I going to wear today? I can’t go to the palace in my chemise.”

Your mother stands back and rests her hands on her hips. You cross your arms in front of you and stare at your feet. Your mothers hand glides through your hair.

“I have a few dresses from when I carried Eleanora. They’re not extravagant, but they will fit. And we can add a silk wrap or necklace, you’ll look lovely.”

You walk over to your bed and sit down, placing your head in your hands.

“Everyone will know it’s a breeding dress Mama!”

“Theodora!”

You look at her with tears in your eyes and her frown fades. She sits beside you and urges you to lean over and rest your head on her shoulder.

“I went through a change like this when I was your age. Maybe a tad younger… I begged my mother to let me delay my debut, but she didn’t allow it. I never would have met your father if I had hidden myself away. I should have requested Miss Julia sooner, I didn’t expect Cora and Rafayel to arrive early.”

You thought once Cora and Sera had gotten married and moved away you wouldn’t have to fight for your mothers attention. Of course, the week before your debut both of your sisters arrive to tell your mother they are with child. Your mother was overjoyed, Winnie and Ellie were squealing, your mother began searching for a special tea recipe and you were sitting in the corner completely forgotten. You were happy for your sisters, but felt wholly unprepared when the day of your debut arrived.  

“I promise you have my undivided attention, my dear. Cora and Sera have both been asking what they can do to help you. Maybe they can help you pick some dress patterns? Would you like that?”

You smile, you have missed them terribly. Your mother stands and gently swipes away your tears with her thumbs. 

“I’ll find the dress and we’ll be on our way to the palace in no time at all.”

“Mama, are you sure I must go?” 

“No one has been knighted in many years, the Queen wants this ceremony to be special. Turning it into a social event is rather uncommon, but I hear the young man who is receiving the commendation is more than worthy of a unique experience. Now, I will only be a moment!”

Your mother leaves to rummage through her chests for a dress. You sit at your desk and open the top drawer, flipping through bundles of letters with your finger.

“January, February… March! Here we are.”

You pull out a bundle of letters and untie the knot. Opening the first envelope you pull the letter free. You try not to frown as you examine the writing, his penmanship has gotten worse since Christmas. You quietly read out-loud.

Theo, Another week where I can’t stomach anything but potato soup. The cook must hate me. And the nurses, cleaning up after me is surely exhausting. Remember the recipe you sent me last autumn? The apple cake? I begged a nurse to find the letter and pass the recipe along. They told me this morning they’ll try to make it for me as a farewell present. I still can’t believe they’re shipping me home. They must think I won’t make it if I don’t see a special doctor. If this is my last letter to you… no, I only want to say that in person. Do you still want that? Or do you still like “the mystery”? Either way, thank you for writing to me all these years. Don’t know what I would have done without you.  I’ll write to you as soon as I’m home. If I make it there.  Caleb

You fold the letter and carefully put it back in the envelope. Nearly a month has passed since you received it. The trip couldn’t have taken that long, could it? Your throat threatens to close at the thought of Caleb never writing to you again. After almost 16 years, you’re not sure what you would do. 

“I found one! And it’s your favorite color too!”

You quickly slide the bundle of letters back in the drawer before your mother enters with a bright yellow dress draped over her arm.

“Come on, let’s get you dressed.”

The loose silk dress slides over your curves with ease and you sigh, at least it fits. The yellow shimmers in the sunlight streaming through your window, if it weren’t for the lack of a waistline you would consider wearing the dress again. Your mother eases your arms through the thick lace overcoat, adjusting the short puffy sleeves. She ties a white silk scarf under your breasts to carve out your shape and turns you to face the mirror. 

“See? You look lovely. The scarf is much more fashionable than the plain belt I wore.”

You give her a sweet smile and nod. She leaves to finish getting ready herself and you take a moment to look through your old dresses piled on your bed. Your younger sisters are taller than you so your mother won’t keep them. 

You skip down the stairs, eager to find Ms Jennings before your mother drags you out of the house. You call for her and she rounds the corner to meet you at the bottom of the stairs. The wrinkles around her eyes deepen as she smiles at you.

“Any –”

“No letters today Miss. And yes, I’ve checked twice.”

You’ve asked her the same question for a fortnight and you’re thankful your mother hasn’t overheard. Ms Jennings started delivering Caleb’s letters directly to you when you turned 13. The arrangement between noble families was only meant to last a few years, but you and Caleb agreed to continue anyway. 

Your penmanship as a child was horrible, as was your reading proficiency. You cried and threw a fit whenever your mother tried to encourage you to practice. Your mother discussed the problem over tea with other mothers and discovered it was a common problem. They came up with a creative solution, pairing their children together to write letters. What started as a method to improve your writing and reading turned into a lifelong friendship. 

You nod, sending Ms Jennings on her way. You begin pacing through the entryway, the soft click of your heels drowning out your anxious thoughts. Then there’s a quiet knock on the door. You didn’t wait for Ms Jennings and approached the door without a second thought. As soon as the door swung open you wished you had been more patient. You were face-to-face with a man's chest and had to step back to look up at him properly.

The man is tall, broad, a sweep of dark brown hair sits neatly across his forehead. His jaw set as his violet eyes examined you. You quickly give him a once over, still baffled at how large he is compared to you. His dark blue frock coat is fully buttoned, the velvet material stretched taut over his chest. The golden buttons and dainty medals glint in the sunshine. His shako is tucked under his arm, his gloved fingers tracing the chinstrap repeatedly. The sleeve of his right arm is rather loose and your heartbeat quickens with a singular assumption.

You clear your throat and stand up straight.

“Apologies, may I… help you?”

The man smiles, his face transforming and quite literally taking your breath away. You suppress a gasp and force a smile in return. He bows.

“I do not mean to intrude, I know it’s… unusual, but I was hoping to call on Miss Theodora Raeton?”

Your breakfast makes an attempt to resurface and you swallow hard. You grip the door handle so tightly your hand begins to ache.

“Who is asking?”

You want to slap yourself for being so improper, but you’re a tad too focused on staying on your feet to care.

“Caleb, I… Well, I’d like to think I’m a friend?”

You let out a laugh - somewhere between a chuckle and a sob. You shake your head and force your smile to stay put. 

“She… My sister - Theodora… yes, she told me, uhm… yes, she told me about you. You wrote letters, yes?”

His eyes narrow, the corner of his mouth twitches as his smile fades for a moment. His nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath and shifts his weight between his feet. When his smile returns it’s brighter than before.

“Yes, for many years. I’m hoping to finally speak to her face-to-face.”

You start chewing the inside of your cheek, a habit you’ve constantly failed to break. 

“I- I’m not sure she’s in… at the moment… She might be… out.”

He chuckles under his breath and drops his head, his hair gently falling out of place. Your fingers twitch with the thought of reaching out to fix it. 

“Of course. Might I request you pass this along to her?”

He slowly lifts his right arm, his face twists as if he’s in pain and you take a step forward. He holds up a letter and you take it quickly, allowing his arm to return to his side. He huffs and takes a small step back. 

“Thank you.”

You hear a man shout his name and you look past him, seeing a small group of men in matching uniforms on their horses. One of them waves at him, beckoning him to come over. You look up to see Caleb staring down at you. 

“Please, forgive me, but I must go.”

He bows once more and walks back through the front gate of your house. He secures his hat before awkwardly jumping up onto his horse using only his left arm. You watch as he rides away with the men, glancing over his shoulder to smile at you before disappearing at the end of the street. Once he is out of sight you hurry inside and close the door, leaning against it while you catch your breath. You open the envelope hastily, almost ripping the paper.

Theo, You must hate me, it’s been too long since I last wrote. The journey home was long and I was sent to a doctor intent on forcing me to rest. He would not give me paper no matter how many times I requested it. Even the nurses were afraid of him. I’ll beg for your forgiveness if I must. The doctor said I won’t be returning to the battlefield. I am settled in my family home. The steward maintained it well after my parents died. The swing is still on the oak on the hill looking over the orchard. And Pip is still alive, she’s slow but can still walk with me through the grounds. I want to see you. I need to see you. There are things I want to say, things I can’t write. Please, Theo, I do not wish to know you as only words on paper. Please. Caleb

You wipe away a tear as you return the letter to the envelope and stuff it in a book to carry upstairs. Your mother runs into you and holds your shoulders, leaning down to look you in the eye.

“My darling, whatever is the matter?”

“Nothing… I was reading… the dust… I will just put this in my room and we can go,”

You do not wait for her response, you rush past her and run to your room. You quietly close the door and sit down at your desk. Pulling out the envelope, you notice the estate name in the corner. He never had your letters sent there while his parents were alive, a pub received the letters and he would pick them up every other day. It’s his estate now, he has the freedom to do whatever he pleases. You, however, do not have the same luxury. You stuff the envelope in the drawer with the other letters and hurry to join your mother in the carriage. The Queen awaits. 

The palace is nearly full when you arrive with your mother, a feat you believed to be impossible. Your mother quickly finds your sisters and their husbands. Thanks to your brother-in-laws status as a Duke, you are all escorted closer to the throne. 

“I can request seating for you? You should sit. You both should sit. I’ll find someone…”

“Sylus! We’re fine.”

Sera places a hand on Sylus’s arm and draws him back to her side. For someone who is usually so suave and carefree, Sylus has become a tad overbearing since he found out Sera is expecting. It doesn’t go unnoticed that Rafayel also doesn’t let go of Cora for even a moment. You giggle and your mother gives you a warning look. Sera winks at you and you cover your mouth to hide your smile. 

Soft music begins playing and you lean forward to see the Queen arrive. You curtsy and tilt your head to see when everyone else will rise. Your thighs start to burn and you honestly wonder if the Queen wants to see a young lady faint. Thankfully, her majesty isn’t feeling too cruel today. Everyone shuffles into a comfortable position as the Queen leans back on her throne. 

“Today, we are here to honor a young man, who has shown valor beyond his years. Placing himself in danger, maimed by the misfortune of an eruption! All to protect his fellow officer!”

Whispers of praise surround you, ladies oohing and ahhing, gentlemen nodding in approval of his bravery. But for you, the room becomes unbearably hot. You shift uncomfortably and feel your mother behind you, gently holding you still. You feel as though you are finally piecing a puzzle together. 

“I have been called upon by his peers to issue him the highest honor. And that is exactly why we are gathered here today. As we have not had the privilege in some time, I believe a traditional ceremony with a few embellishments is warranted. Shall we begin?”

Large doors at the back of the room open and everyone around you is already blocking your view. You hear footsteps and the muffled whispers around you slowly fade until all you can hear is your heartbeat.

Caleb marches past with his peers. The group bows before the Queen and she gives them a subtle nod. All the men besides Caleb step back and Caleb kneels. An older gentleman holding two swords steps up beside the Queen.

“I have been told of your prowess in battle, your peers praise you and wish your sacrifice be made honorable. I am of the mind to admit you to the Order of Skyhaven. Will you accept this honour?”

“I will.”

“Will you give us your word that all you do will serve as a noble example to our people?”

“I will.”

“Will you treat all with courtesy, and uphold the laws and traditions of our kingdom?”

“I will.”

“Will you swear fealty to us, our crown?”

“I will.”

“Then we swear fealty to you, Caleb, to protect and defend you and all your household, with all our power, until we depart from our throne, or death takes us.”

The gentleman steps forward and motions for Caleb to rise. He sheaths the sword and secures it around Caleb’s waist. He holds up the other sword and steps up to face Caleb. With one swift motion he strikes Caleb across the face with the flat of his sword. The crowd collectively gasps and the Queen gives a stern look, effectively silencing everyone. You clutch the front of your dress and bite your lip so hard you taste copper. You remember reading about knighting ceremonies, the act is traditional, but witnessing it first-hand made your stomach drop. Caleb kneels again and bows his head. Another officer approaches and presents the Queen a sword. She proceeds to lower the blade onto Caleb’s shoulder and lifts it to switch to the other side.

“I dub thee once, dub thee twice, dub thee Knight. From this day forward, let no blade touch you, that you live with honour, courage and prowess. We command you to protect the defenceless, seek justice for all, and maintain the honour of your order. Bring no dishonour to your sword, and carry it in defence of any and all who have need of it. Sir Caleb, rise and go forth. For Sir Caleb, newest Knight of the Order of Skyhaven, three cheers!”

The crowd cheers as Caleb stands, bowing once more before turning around. He rests his hand on the hilt of his new sword and looks around. His eyes lock onto you and you step back, hiding behind Sylus who looks down at you with an amused grin.

You keep your head down until Caleb and his fellow officers exit the room. The crowd slowly filters out, but you remain frozen in place. Your mother tugs on your arm and when you don’t move she lifts her hand to your forehead.

“Theodora? Are you feeling poorly?”

You shake your head and stumble forward, letting your mother hold your arm and guide you out of the room. Caleb, the man you’ve written to for 16 years, who you thought was dead until this morning, who is far more attractive than he let on, is now a knight and he’s home, for good. And he wants to see you. Question is, are you brave enough to face him?

After a week and three fittings, you finally have your new dresses. You stare at your bed, now covered in extravagant linen and lace. Before you had no options, now you have too many. The party today will be the first time you get to wear a proper fitting dress this season. Holding up dress after dress, you examine yourself in the mirror. 

“Too formal… Too light… Too dark… Too… Yellow?”

“I thought you liked yellow?”

You drop the dress and jump, turning quickly to see Sera leaning in your doorway. You bend to pick up your dress and toss it on the bed. She makes her way into your room, around hat boxes and piles of shoes, to clear a space on your bed to sit. She sighs heavily as she sits, a hand protectively over her stomach. After successfully hiding her condition from Mama for most of the winter, she was relieved to finally huff and puff without caring who hears. 

“I do like yellow, I just… I don't know what to wear today. It’s a garden party, but not formal, but still… I don’t know…”

You flop down on the bed, dramatically covering your eyes with an arm. You hear Sera giggle and pat the bed beside you.

“This one.”

You sit up and look down at Sera’s suggestion. She had requested this pattern at the very first fitting and you had to admit, it’s stunning. A pale yellow base with a sheer overlay covered in white daisy appliques and sheer white sleeves that cover down to your elbows. 

“White lace mittens, your embroidered reticule and the white slippers with the little bow!”

You trail your fingers over the white daisies and smile. Sera loves to dress others up, but hates dressing up herself. You can see her dirty riding boots under the hem of her dress and know very well she won’t be changing them. You stand and hold the dress up, twirling around and smiling. When you face Sera, she’s sporting the biggest grin.

“Why are you so nervous about this party?”

Carefully slipping the dress over your head, you smooth the fabric out and sit beside Sera. She secures the buttons slowly, stopping to tap your shoulder. You sigh and stare at your hands.

“It’s rather sudden, wouldn’t you say? Parties and balls are usually scheduled weeks before the debutante presentation. I’m surprised Mama is so… resolute… about our attendance.” “You do not wish to attend Sir Caleb’s party?”

You shake your head.

“No! No… I- I just… I find it strange.” 

Sera hums and pats your back. You stand and start searching for your lace mittens. While you enjoy the silence, your mind races with questions you wish you could ask. You finally groan loudly and turn to face Sera.

“How did you know you were in love?”

Sera gasps and then starts to laugh.

“Theo… is there something you’d like to tell me?”

“No! Sera… please… I… I just need…”

She places her hands over yours and squeezes them. 

“I’m sorry for my teasing. I- It was just unexpected, is all.” 

She motions for you to follow her to the bed. You sit beside her and she sweeps your hair over your shoulder, gently twirling your curls. 

“I was not sure right away. When I first met Sylus I wanted to slap him, sometimes I still do! I expected him to find me improper and avoid my company, like most gentlemen used to do. And yet, he’d seek me out. Treat me as an equal, not property to acquire.”

You look over your shoulder to see her eyes glisten with tears.

“I knew I loved him when he smiled after I told him I hated him. I was not afraid to speak, to disagree, to challenge him - I felt entirely safe and cherished. For just being myself. I could be as impolite as I pleased, and he would still love me.”

You pull her into a hug and listen to her quietly sob for a few moments. She sits back and clears her throat.

“God, I cry all the time now… Now will you tell me why you are asking?”

You shake your head with a sneaky smile and jump up before she can grab you. She doesn’t pressure you to tell her, but she does promise to keep a close eye on you. She leaves you to finish getting ready and shuts your door. You sit at your desk and pull out a new bundle of letters, opening each and laying them out in front of you. You’d written to Caleb as soon as you returned home from his knighting ceremony. Since then, his correspondence has been growing more frequent. 

Theo. I’m sure you’ve heard, I was honored by the Queen, can you believe I’m a knight? Sir Caleb, sounds pompous, does it not? I will be helping my former superiors “teach” new officers - they wish to use me as an example of what not to do, I am almost certain. Have you considered what I requested? Please, I wish to speak to you. To see the smile you’re wearing knowing I’m home, and alive. Caleb

You never should have written about how happy it had made you to receive his letter. While it is true that you have not stopped smiling since his return, you’ve also not stopped fidgeting. Would he regret meeting you? Once he knows what you look like or how awkward and shy you can be?

Theo, I do not wish to rely on my title, I intend to open the orchard this autumn. I remember you used to wish for the Allhallowtide Festival to be held in an orchard. With apple cakes, apple tarts, apple preserves on scones, apple tea, apple custard. I may have mentioned the idea to the Queen the other day and she is beside herself. She wishes to hold a ball in my orchard next spring. I will not force you to meet me, if you only wish to write to me I will be content. However, I will not hide my desire for you to reconsider. Caleb

The Allhallowtide Festival in his family orchard sounds heavenly. Crisp autumn air, sweet apples, warm scones and tea. You would never consider missing such an affair. You know Caleb, possibly better than you know yourself, you know he will never stop asking to meet. Should you just get it over with?

Theo, I must know, are you afraid to meet me? Have I done something? I will make it right, tell me what I must do. I do hope you consider attending the garden party I am hosting today. It’s rather sudden, but I cannot stand the silence. You know better than most how I thrive in chaos. If you do not wish to meet, I will avoid your family if I must. Please attend, if only to see the apple blossoms and Pip. Caleb

It was the first time you had the chance to read the letter you received this morning. Your eyes burned, he thought he’d done something to hurt you. All because you’re afraid he will be disappointed. Maybe you can speak to him today and see what he thinks about “Theo” - you were surprisingly good at reading expressions. 

You return the letters to their envelopes and stow them away. You stand and put on your mittens, loop your reticule around your wrist and slip on your slippers. Pinching your cheeks lightly as you pass the mirror you rush to join your mother and sisters. Today you’ll be anyone but Theodora Raeton.

Arriving at Caleb’s estate you’re instantly shaken by its size, you couldn’t even see the orchard yet. The gardens in front of the manor were well maintained and extensive. A large lake sat along the right side, a small island with a gazebo sat at its center. As soon as you rounded the house, the entire back garden came into view. Ladies sat at round tables sipping tea and fanning themselves. Men stood in small groups in the open field. You spot several of them holding pall mall mallets. 

Sylus and Sera charge ahead to find a table in the shade and Rafayel and Cora take off for the lake for a stroll. Your mother clings to you as you follow Sylus and Sera. Once everyone is seated and comfortably drinking tea, you stand.

“I’m going to go for a walk. And yes, Mama, I will be careful, don’t worry.”

Your mother nods and continues to sip her tea. Sera gives you a knowing look, but remains silent. You walk past several tables, politely waving and greeting family acquaintances. You pass the dessert station and quickly grab a slice of apple cake, how Caleb got so many fresh apples out of season you’ll never know. 

Passing a group of men playing a lively game of pall mall, you spot the entrance to the orchard. You climb a small hill and look past the line of hedges. The apple blossoms are gorgeous, a sea of pastel pink stretching as far as you can see. You can only imagine what it looks like in autumn, trees full of apples, the grass dry and covered in leaves and fallen fruit. 

A shrill laugh draws your attention back to the entrance, you see Caleb - looking dashing as ever - speaking to a young lady. You immediately recognize her, Miss Dahlia Atwood. Tall, thin, perfectly average bosom and hips. Her chestnut brown hair meticulously curled and pinned back to show off her dainty lips and rosy cheeks. Her dress matches Caleb’s eyes, no doubt chosen deliberately.

She bats her lashes and smiles sweetly and your heart aches with every passing moment. You try to quietly stroll over to a bench further away, but almost shout when you hear a loud yip. You look down and see a shaggy hunter spaniel, their shiny white fur with dark brown spots. Their tongue lolls out of their mouth and their tail wags furiously. They look up at you expectantly and your lip trembles, Pip. 

You bend and extend your hand cautiously. Pip sniffs your palm and gives it a lick. You giggle and scratch behind her ears, you remember Caleb said she likes that best. 

“She likes you.”

You launch yourself upright, nearly falling backwards. Caleb stands a few feet away, his hands behind his back. You look over his shoulder and see Dahlia glare at you - as if you personally asked Caleb to stop talking to her. You turn your attention back to Pip and chuckle. 

“You think so?”

Caleb nods. You bend and continue petting her, her tail wagging so fast her whole body is swaying. 

“Is your sister still feeling poorly?”

You bite your lip, you forgot you wrote to him about “Theo” feeling ill. You stand up and step past Pip, slowly making your way to the bench. You sit and place your plate on your lap. 

“Yes, she… she is. Very poorly.” 

“And how are you today, Miss Raeton?”

You look up at him with wide eyes.

“Me?”

He chuckles before gesturing to the bench, his smile faltering slightly as he clenches his fist. He’d used his right arm, you still didn’t know the extent of his injuries, he wouldn’t write about it. You move over so he can sit down.

“Does it hurt?”

“Only when it rains. Or when I overexert myself.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t pry.”

“No, you’re not trying to avoid the matter like everyone else.”

“... Miss Atwood looked very pleased to see you. I did not intend to disrupt your conversation.”

Caleb laughs.

“You and Pip saved me from the most disagreeable –” He closes his eyes and clears his throat. “Apologies, I am far too comfortable speaking bluntly. A consequence of the better part of 4 years surrounded by rowdy officers.”

You smile and bow your head. 

“What I mean to say is I am grateful, I did not particularly wish to speak to her in that manner.” 

“Oh… I would have thought you would be pleased to find such a… a… lady for you… for such a house.”

He watches you, his smile soft as his eyes burn through you.

“I informed her I am already pursuing another.”

You chose the wrong time to take a bite of your apple cake. You cough until you are red in the face. Caleb disappears to fetch you some tea and you’re left on the bench desperate to run all the way home. When he returns you sip the tea slowly, soothing your sore throat. 

“Th-thank you. I was just - ahem - I was just surprised is all. I did not realize you were courting a young lady already.”

“She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And… as I am already sharing my secrets with you, I intend to propose, when she’s ready.”

The tea cup clatters as you set it back on the saucer. You hold your breath to suppress the tears, but cannot stop yourself from gasping. You set the saucer on the bench and stand up. Caleb looks up at you, his brows raised.

“I am truly happy to hear that Sir Caleb, happy indeed. I must… I must go, please excuse me.”

You rush past him and into the orchard, nearly sprinting as soon as you think you’re out of sight. Your lungs burn as you run through the lush grass, apple blossom petals fluttering down around you. 

The trail you’ve been following splits off and you follow a new direction up a hill. Your hands shake as you come to a stop in front of a giant oak tree. An old swing hangs from one of its branches. Caleb wrote about this swing and how he would run here when his father was angry with him. He called it his “safe place” - the bark of the tree was whittled away, letters carved to claim this place as his own. You reach out and hold the rope, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. 

Are you surprised? Did you think he was interested in you just from your silly letters? That’s why he wanted to talk to you face-to-face, he wanted to tell you about his impending nuptials. You’d only ever be his friend, nothing more. You knew this, so why can’t you stop crying? Why does it hurt so badly?

“Theodora!”

You spin around and see Caleb climbing the hill towards you. His face is flushed as he rushes to stand before you. 

“Theo…”

Caleb extends his hand, gently lifting your chin to adjust your gaze. He doesn’t let go, his thumb gliding over your jaw to hold you in place.

“Y-you k-knew? Th-this whole t-time?”

He nods.

“How?”

“I was your secret. You told me that. You said you’ve never told a soul about our letters. I considered you may have a sister you trust, maybe you told them. But I knew better. I know you.”

“I – I don’t…”

“Your eyes. You wrote about how much you hated the color. And I told you, I bet your eyes are the perfect shade of brown. That they’ll sparkle in the sun. Flecks of gold, more lovely than any jewel. I was right…”

He lets go of your chin to rest his palm against your cheek. You wrap a hand around his wrist and he gasps softly.

“I – I didn’t mean to lie. I thought… I thought you’d…”

“Be disappointed? I meant what I said, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You’re the only reason I fought so damn hard to get home. I wasn’t going to die without seeing you.”

He closes the distance and tries to lift his right arm to circle around you. When you see his struggle, you tuck your arm under his lifting it enough for him to rest his palm against  your hip. His eyes close as he leans down to rest his forehead against yours. His other hand sliding down to hold the side of your neck. 

“Without holding you.”

You lean into his touch, his hand warm and tender. 

“And yes, I meant it when I said I intend to propose. When you’re ready, I want you to be my wife.”

“Yes.”

He leans back, opening his eyes to meet yours.

“What?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you.”

🐝❀🍎 AN #2: I tried my best to be historically accurate, some modern terms are just way easier to use for a smoother reading experience. Used THIS as reference for knighting ceremony - changed it to be less official & more LADs casual style. All photos taken from Pinterest. *Changed the letters from Caleb to normal font cause it is hard to see on mobile!

(If you DO NOT want to be tagged in ALL REGENCY AU fics, just leave a comment. Keep in mind, each story hints at the futures for each pair sooooo...) 𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora @crowskitten22 @letharue @silverbrain @alastor-simp @drama-trauma @0tterteeth @mysticcollectionvoid @godzillaglitter @godoffuckedupcats @m00nchildwrites @plsdonttakemyname @hauntedbysmut @withering-dream @lostwingz2236 @simpfortheseven @freddy-2002-blog @kiude @tati-the-fangirl @mtcozylove @3fingersofscotch @stxrrielle @angelicspaceprince @hebreeee @beykyuns @sylusgirlie7 @goblynn @freddy-2002-blog

[ellesreids]

hi!! i wanted to send in a request for a spencer reid x reader fic. i don’t have a particular plot in mind (or you can create headcanons, if you prefer) so you may have to get creative but i love the idea of a funky whimsical reader. like she wears fun socks and has too many plans and has bugs as pets. like an elementary school art teacher vibe yk? maybe she actually is an elementary school art teacher or maybe she works at the bau, you’re choice. i just love this concept cause everyone writes the reader so similarly to spencer, but i think he’d be really compatible with a type b creative person too :) all i ask for is loads of fluff!! i love your writing and im so excited to see what you do with this :) tysm!! sending love ✨⭐️🎀💗

I absolutely love her I already wanna write more and more about her!! thank you for requesting lovely, sending back ten times more love <3 this is basically like a backstory to how they met and got together, but I'm literally already thinking about writing a few blurbs lol.

──── ⊹☆⊹ ────

You and Spencer first met when the FBI was doing their annual school visits at the elementary school where you taught. The whole school hall was packed with children and teachers, and Spencer felt like he was minutes from fainting because he knew he was up next to present and he knew it was going to be near torture trying to explain profiling to a bunch of ten year olds.

Just before he was set to go on stage, his eyes had caught yours. It's not like you were hard to find anyway — you stuck out like a sore thumb, actually. A far cry from any average teacher, with clothes so colorful and lively and jewelry that adorned you all over. Spencer was already starstruck, and he hadn't even talked to you yet.

When you saw him, you gave him a small smile in greeting, noticing his very nervous demeanor, and somehow that alone had helped quell a bit of the firing nerves that shot through his body. The kids couldn't care less what Spencer was talking about, and much less the teachers, but you practically had your eyes glued to him, giving him encouraging nods as he sputtered his way through his fully memorised presentation.

He had tried to talk to you after his speech was over, but as all the kids were pushing their way outside of the hall and back to their respective classes, he lost you somewhere in the crowds. He thought about you for days after that encounter, and didn't get to see you again until about a week later, when you, by some miracle, walked into the bullpen of the BAU holding a huge fruit basket that had been meant to be given to the team the day of the school visit. You definitely were a spectacle, turning heads and piquing interest as you made your way through the office. Flowy skirt, crinkled, paint-stained shirt, and jiggling bangles in contrast to all the crisp, perfectly tailored suits that surrounded you.

Morgan, ever the gentleman, saw you struggling and offered to help take the gift from your hands, and you thanked him profusely. Just as you were getting ready to make your way back to school after some friendly small talk with Morgan, you noticed him, sitting at his desk seemingly completely enraptured with the file he was reading. The cute agent that had been so nervous he started turning pale. The colour had definitely returned to his face now, and he looked even cuter than before, so after politely excusing yourself, you decided to make your way over to his desk.

When Spencer saw you standing at his desk, same warm smile as before when you greated him, he was starstruck all over again, sitting there with a mouth slighty agape as you complimented his total wreck of a presentation. "I'd like to treat you to a coffee sometime to, y'know, say thank you for coming to talk to the kids." It was a horrible cover-up, but it seemed to work nevertheless, and when the doctor had gathered enough of his impressive IQ points, he managed to accept your offer in an almost incoherent mess of words.

You had since then taken him out to coffee, and naturally, a date followed, and then a few more.

And now, Spencer couldn't even believe his luck. He had almost made peace with the idea that he'd never see you again, and now you were sitting across him in the busy restaurant on your now sixth date. In many ways, you and Spencer are complete opposites. Where Spencer thrives in routine and familiarity, you're much more flexible and adaptable. You're a take it as it comes kind of person, yet he functions better the further away he can plan.

Your patience and creativity make it easy for him to see why you're a teacher as well, and Spencer swears he'd already fallen in love by the first date. He tries to reel it in, though, afraid of scaring you off with his overeagerness, but you don't seem to mind at all. You look at him with stars in your eyes every time he rambles about whatever subject he seems to have endless knowledge on, and sometimes you even counter with your own rambles. The two of you complemented each other in the most perfect way; like two opposite poles of a magnet, yet unstoppably drawn to each other.

After your date, he takes you home and walks you to the door like a gentleman, and when you ask him if he'd like to stay for a cup of tea, he accepts with a shy smile and red-tipped ears. If he thought your clothes were a perfect reflection of your personality, your house is even more so. The inside is filled with the type of warm lighting that feels nostalgic, the scent of cinnamon and bergamot permeates through the air, trinkets and paintings are scattered in every corner his eyes falls to and plants are pearched on and near every window in sight.

You take off your shoes, and he mimics you, the both of you bursting into a fit of giggles when you notice each others' socks. The two of you make your way to your living area as the kettle boils, and he's greeted by your cat, rubbing herself against his leg with a soft purr. "She likes you," you say with a happy shriek, "and she normally doesn't like anyone that fast, so you should feel honored." He does feel honored, funny enough. If it means that much to you, it means even more to him that your cat likes him.

For probably the millionth time since he's met you, he's completely enamored with you. He watches as you speak animatedly, one hand petting the cat now in your lap while the other holds your cup of tea. He winces a little when you move the cup around so seemingly neverminded, but you've managed to not spill anything yet, which he thinks is quite impressive.

His brain was going a hundred miles a minute as you. He realized he'd now had something, someone to look forward to when he returned from cases. Someone who waited for him and missed him. He had someone to share his thoughts with, someone who listened and truly cared about everything he had to say.

The realization makes his heart ache, this funny feeling that starts in his chest and spreads through his whole body like white heat. He feels a little breathless, hand absent-mindedly clutching his chest in a way that would probably seem melodramatic to anyone else watching.

"Spencer? Are you okay?" you ask, breaking him from his reverie as you place your almost empty cup on the nearby coffee table before you're feeling his forehead with the back of your hand. It was silly, but you were so used to working with kids who got sick out of the blue, and Spencer had suddenly started looking deathly pale.

"I'm fine, it's just," he hesitates, and you pull your hand away, carefully shuffling a little closer to show him he had your undivided attention. "I'm very happy we found each other," he finally says, eyes lifting from his lap to gauge your reaction.

"I'm just as happy, Spence," you smile, "you make me very happy." Without really thinking about it, you press a kiss to his cheek to reiterate your words. As soon as you're pulling away, Spencer's chasing your lips with his, and in a very uncharacteristically bold move, he kisses you in a way he hopes will reiterate his words just as perfectly. You return the kiss tenfold, hands grasping his face as you pulled him impossibly closer, kissing him until you both were breathless. Once you're pulling away, Spencer feels like his brain is steadily melting out of his ears, heart beating faster than he thinks is healthy.

That was the night you Spencer asked you to be his girlfriend, and since then, his days have been brighter than ever.

[lapdogchase]

and as for 6.14 private lives. i think contextualizing it as being only a few episodes after cameron leaves is important. they haven't even signed the divorce papers yet, he's still very raw from it all and trying to figure out what he did wrong (eg., when he says "it's cameron's favorite book. i don't even know what it's about," and wilson replies, "don't do that to yourself") (or as he tells her in lockdown, "i spent months wondering how i made it go bad. if you never loved me, then i didn't do anything wrong")

after the speed-dating incident with house and wilson proves to him that he's pretty (and that women can be superficial) he's clearly ruminating on it. he so quickly is like man. this means that all women ever have only cared about me for my appearance. when he asks thirteen how good looking he is he clarifies that he's asking bc the speed definition "cost [him his] definition of [him]self. and women."-- what was he defining himself by before? what is he defining himself by now? considering how heavily he leans into the 'slut' role after this and thru s7- probably that, for a while. not in as many words, but he seems to do what's expected of him and fill any role that needs to be filled and right now that role is, again, slut.

he talks to thirteen again after he asks a nurse for her car keys and she gives them to him no questions asked- he says "i've been deluding myself that I'm actually connecting with people"- he's worried every connection he's ever made in his entire life is irrelevant because of the possibility that they only cared about him for his looks. and thirteen, who smoothly brushes over a very concerning age gap between her and her ex, tells him that he can live his life assuming people all have ulterior motives if they try to get close to him or he can accept that maybe people are just nice sometimes. it's good advice that he doesn't take. he keeps ripping himself up over this and brings it up to her again at the end of the episode, and she realizes he's so upset because he thinks cameron didn't actually love him. which she gently but firmly tells him is stupid.

he gets a few episodes of buffer time between this whole, "worrying every woman he's ever cared about only wanted to sleep with him and didn't actually care about him as a person," thing- time where he and cameron talk, and they sign the divorce papers- and when he starts sleeping around.

which, i thought started in 7.03 when he leaves after work to hook up with a woman he won't see again- but it was 7.01. when thirteen's leaving and he asks if she wants to have sex with him (because "the deadline's been moved up") and then "follows up" (his words) to "confirm" (his words) her disinterest because he would "be remiss" (his words) not to. (first of all, uncertain how he's gotten this many sexual partners when him propositioning someone sounds like he's sending an email. second of all-) i never really got the impression that chase was interested in thirteen that way at all, maybe i just missed it but i saw them as entirely platonic thru all their interactions. it seems to come out of the blue and i'm choosing to read it less as a "he's had feelings for her for a while and is just now choosing to act on them" situation and more as a "semi-desperate reach for a connection with someone," or a "this is what i'm supposed to do, this is how you connect with people"- either way, it's (understandably) denied

and it's after that when he really starts to go off the rails. which definitely isnt thirteen's fault (or cameron's fault for that matter), but after that is when we see him with a new woman every episode, his colleagues are teasing him about it, patients are noticing, it's impacting his work life, in 8.12 he finds out patients know about his chronic sleeping around because the nurses gossip about him- etc etc. it takes over his life in a way that continues well into s8

fascinated and distressed by chase's disordered relationship with sexuality + his emotions abt his own trauma & abuse

thru the beginning of the show he doesn't even realize he's hot despite being objectively attractive. when he finds out he's hot he then realizes people pretend to be interested in him as a person in order to have sex with him and gets super upset about it

he starts having a bunch of meaningless sex as a coping mechanism when cameron leaves him. and also a lot of other times. whenever something bad happens, basically, he starts going out with a bunch of women, just to feel something, presumably

^to the extent where hes known within the hospital as a slut. and has had sex with an insane amount of nurses. as well as presumably women who are not at his place of work.

he says doing this made him hate himself so he stopped. it's the b-plot for an episode and then he's back having meaningless sex again by the end of the episode

even his coworkers know this about him. and have called it out, masters even says she thinks he doesn't respect women bc, in her words, he's with a different one every few days or maybe he finds comfort in meaningless relationships

goes back to having meaningless sex within weeks of getting stabbed. which is really bad for wound healing reasons too. genuinely it seems like such compulsive behavior for him considering he keeps doing it even when its objectively not only a bad idea but actively dangerous

house even directly says he's "a serial slut" because he's "terrified of intimacy." incredibly accurate assessment

his relationship with his sexuality reads so heavily as someone who thinks they're not good for anything else

see also: dissociation & avoidance

we know he has a lot of trauma especially in childhood- he never really gets into it let alone into how he Feels about it but what we know is already bad & that's just the stuff he's okay with sharing with his coworkers or patients

in general he's very avoidant of his own trauma- when he gets stabbed he says he "can't change what happened, can only make better choices from here" as if it was his own fault, and refuses thru the whole episode to acknowledge that being traumatized by this would be a really normal reaction that he is definitely having. instead he just blames himself

also, he dissociates from traumatic things that happen to him - says "there was a stabbing" rather than "i was stabbed" for instance

when he's talking abt his childhood trauma he does it in a very similar way - he talks about it very bluntly and doesn't ever get into how he actually feels about it.

see also: dr. fawn response

general passive willingness to go along with anything- when cameron says they should have sex in s3 he's surprised and then he just kinda goes along with it. not bc he didn't want to bc he obviously did, but he's just generally very much someone who does whatever other people want him to do. i feel like he and cameron both tend to seek validation thru sex in an unhealthy way that i'm still gnawing on like a dog with a bone i have to go rewatch s3 to really articulate it though

he has a sort of desperation for praise and approval especially from anyone he views as an authority figure. he does whatever authority figures tell him out of this idea that it'll bring him approval and therefore safety

like no matter what house does or says to him he doesn't argue or retaliate or anything. even when house punches him he collapses on the ground in pain and then just keeps talking about the patient like nothing happened.

the scene in 3.10 after house punches him where he's in the ddx room and house walks in and throws the file at him and chase is startled and tries to pretend he's not. and he looks up with this huge fuck ass bruise on his jaw swallows heavily and pretends not to be upset. and house asks if he got that looked at as if he wasn't the one to give it to him and chase just swallows and says he's fine. dr fawn response :(

[personasintro]

it’s extremely bad to send hate ask to author for updating late as we all have life outside. But i think when reader are giving them likes, donations on ko-fi, following them, loving them only out of love for a fan fiction they wrote so nicely then i think the wtiter should also consider few things. Surely we all are busy and have different life different problems but i dont think it takes a year to write a chapter even if the chapter is big enough i think a whole year is too much.

The lack of empathy and understanding in this message is beyond me.

Writing is not my job. It doesn't pay my bills. My actual job does, job that requires so much time and work outside of my working hours. You guys have ZERO knowledge of how my daily life looks like and the fact there's so many of you just judging and jumping into conclusions is so ignorant. I understand the frustration and I'm extremely thankful to everyone who loves my stories. But what I'm more thankful for is the kindness, love and empathy people actually feel for writers because we're human too.

Writing a chapter is not something I just pull out of my brain and it's done. I dedicated so many posts, trying to get people understand where my mind is currently at when it comes to writing – if you've been around for a while which you must've been since you've been waiting so long for a chapter – you must've seen and read it at some point.

I'm making it known again. I WRITE WHENEVER I CAN AND WANT TO.

There are many great stories out there that you can read in the meantime.

[latenighttalkinqwp]

i need more morgan stuff from you

taking care of morgan after surgery!

at the sound of talking and a squeaky wheelchair, you look up to see a very sleepy morgan. “she’s awake! still just very high off of the medicine.” the nurse smiles at you, bringing morgan as close to you as possible. her eyes go wide, “HIGH? oh no- geno is gonna kill me. i did not consent to this. babe, will you tell him?” she starts ranting, her eyes going wide. you suppress a laugh, putting your hand over hers. “mo, it’s just- okay. yeah i’ll make sure to tell him.” deciding to try and not argue with her, you stand up and go over to make sure she is completely okay to leave. “morgan, take it easy the next few days okay? we’re gonna have medicine prescribed for the pain, but your doctor should be making a follow up appointment with you guys soon.” you nod, looking down at morgan. she holds up a thumbs up, and immediately starts rambling about her ‘bestest friend’ sarah. holding back the urge to video this and send it to the group chat, you start to wheel her out to your car and avoiding as many bumps as possible.

“can we get something to eat? i’m starvingggg” morgan sighs as you practically drag her into the car, doing nothing to help you. “i mean we could- can you put your foot in? thanks” you roll your eyes, shutting the door and getting in the car.

driving down the road, you could see the exhaustion on her face. morgan reached for your hand, holding it tightly as she drifted in and out of sleep. once you finally got home, you helped her settle on the couch, making sure her foot was elevated and comfortable. “how are you feeling, baby?” you asked, brushing a strand of hair from her face. she sighed, a mix of relief and frustration in her voice. you could tell the pain medication was starting to wear off by her furrowed eyebrows. “tired... and really sore. but I’m glad it’s over, i just wish it didn’t have to happen during season.”

“i’m so sorry, baby. you just need lots of rest. i know this isn’t what you wanted but it was definitely needed, i hated seeing you in pain all the time.” you told her, kissing her forehead gently. grabbing a glass of water, and holding it up to her lips. “here, drink some of this. you need to stay hydrated.” you rub her head, trying to comfort her the best you can. she took a small sip, her eyes still a little cloudy. “you’re amazing. i don’t know how i’d be able to do this if i didn’t have you.” you smiled, settling down next to her on the couch. “you don’t have to do it alone. that’s why i’m here , and that’s what the girls are here for.” you made sure she had everything she needed: snacks, her medications, the remote control, and a blanket to keep her warm. “okay- i’m going to take a quick shower and do some laundry. yell at me if you need anything.” she nods, smiling at you slightly when you kiss her head.

the next few days were a blur of doctor’s appointments, medicine reminders, and trying to keep morgan entertained as she rested. every time she winced in pain or got frustrated with how slow the healing was, you would remind her that it’s all a part of the process and comfort her the best as possible.

“here,” you flipped your hair over your shoulder, sitting down beside her with a plate of her favorite food. “i made dinner baby, maybe eating with your medicine will help.” she gives a weak smile, but her eyes full of unshed tears spoke a different story. “baby…thank you. my foot is killing me, i’ve been a pain in the ass, and you still make me dinner and take care of me. i really don’t know what i would do if you weren’t here to help me through this.” a few tears drop as she talks, the weight of the surgery hitting her. you frown, sitting down beside her and wiping her tears. “morg, i love you so much. no matter how much you have frustrated these last few days, it’s something that we will laugh about because you’ll never have to do anything without me.” she giggles, pulling you down to hug you tight. “i’m so lucky to have you by my side.”

“you’re lucky, I’m lucky, we’re both lucky,” you muffle, your head resting in her neck. “now, let’s get you some food and rest, okay? you’ve got this, and i’ve got you.” you kiss her jaw pushing the food closer to her.

as the days went on, you could tell she was getting stronger, but even as she started to feel better, you kept reminding yourself to stay patient and supportive. seeing her smile again, hearing her laugh, even just watching her scoot around on the scooter—those small moments made all the tough days worth it.

- thank you so much for reading all the way through! click here to see my masterlist. likes and reblogs are so so so appreciated💖

- this has been in the drafts for a minute! i decided to finally finish it hehe but here we go😇

[astracora]

A Mandated Holiday Break - Chapter 8

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: Sylus myth mentioned, mild hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1424

Written: 22nd December 2024

Notes: Post-relationship Sylus/MC-centric but poly LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

Masterlist AO3

Sylus enjoys a karaoke bar, especially if he's got access to you for a duet. You tease him but you'll always join him, hanging onto his arm and letting loose, and he sometimes falters over the words because he's too busy watching your face.

Still, this is good too. You've set up the game system that the doctor bought for his base, presenting it with a sigh. 'You won't know the right one.'

He'd been a little insulted, but he'd acquiesced, in the end the doctor knows gaming better than he does. It's never appealed to him, and he's never had real time to try. A sing-a-long game is loading up, yelling out 'let's sing' loudly from the speaker system.

You'd presented it to him with the doctor, beaming, "You'll like this one, I promise!"

The fish had groaned from the sofa, "Why do we all have to suffer the crow's crooning?"

As much as you've teased him for being out of tune, you've always encouraged him. He can't count how many times you've asked him to hum for you. Lay against his chest, and unable to sleep for nightmares.

The reason for the at-home karaoke session, are the cocktails that Luke has decided he wants to try making. Kieran is his primary test dummy, and if anything doesn't make him spit it straight back out. You're trying them.

It's ill advised… Sylus knows you're not a light weight, but he does know you and the twins can get competitive. It feels like it's only moments before you start doing shots together, and if that happens he's bound to get dragged in, and as quick healing as he is, he doesn't fancy driving anyone anywhere. Nor does he want to get into a taxi with someone he doesn't trust. Not with you and the twins.

He needs you safe.

He also blames you for Luke’s new hobby, you’d showed them some movies, made comments about how stylish a good bartender is, (He hadn’t filed that information away, to practice. At all.), and Luke had taken that as a challenge.

“It can’t be that hard.”

“Yeah! You can do it bro!”

You’d laughed and not thought anything of it. They’d gone out, and returned with… boxes.

Then raided his alcohol supply.

He’d dragged them both back by the scruff of the neck when they went for the very expensive top shelf. In no world were they mixing that with… was that moonshine? Where did they even get moonshine from?

He doesn’t see you drunk often, there are times you’re out in busy places because you feel you have to attend, and he’s seen you drink then to soften the anxiety and stress. You always call someone to be there then, drunk you is far more willing to rely on others. He also has seen you drink when you feel safe, has carried you on his arm more than once in those situations.

You apologise but there’s no need, especially when he gets to see the embarrassed but enamoured look on your face as he holds you in one arm. Your fingers drifting over the veins in his bicep, with a look he can only describe as hungry. He flexes a little more than he needs to on those occasions.

(There was one time you’d made a comment about beef clod, and he had truly not known how to respond.)

He can see you getting to that point now, you’re trying something green that you and Kieran are sipping from the same glass with separate straws. Luke is taking his turn at the microphone, singing something about what he wants for Christmas. Sylus is unsure if the radioactive green drink is good for either of you, but you don’t look sick, still. He’s wary, and flicks your forehead. As you put a hand to the targeted area, pulling away with an offended ‘Oi’, he grabs the glass and sips from your straw.

“Aww, Boss come on.”

It’s… not as bad as he expected, but he can’t imagine drinking it for fun.

Whether his taste buds are ‘broken’ like you’ve claimed before, and its somehow worse than he tastes, he still doesn’t feel good about putting it back in either your’s or Kieran’s hands. So he downs it.

Wrinkling his nose and pushing the glass away.

Before you can grab another concoction, now that Luke is back and shoving something else onto his brother, (He’s going to have to hide the key to the liquor cabinet he thinks, if this becomes a long standing hobby for them.), he pulls you over to the karaoke machine. “It’s our turn kitten, I’m owed a song for saving you from a terrible fate.”

Your tongue is out at him, but you stumble over grabbing his arm to steady yourself, and pick up the controller to find something you both know well enough to get through it with little effort.

His song repertoire has grown substantially since you’ve reentered his life, he feels confident that anything you sing to often he has memorised. Catalogued away to think about on nights you’re not here to sing for him.

When you’re satisfied, lining up a particular choice, you thrust the microphone into his hand, that’s not currently steadying you at the waist.

You look right at him when the song starts, familiar with some things enough to sing them blindfolded, and as tipsy as you are, with your voice wavering a little, he’s as starstruck as he always is.

“And I’d give up forever to touch you, ‘Cause I know that you feel me somehow, You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be, And I don’t want to go home right now.”

There’s moments in his life, where Sylus wonders if he blinks, will you disappear? A fragile illusion on a wishful soul. That someone, somewhere has truly seen into him and seen something worth adoring and loving. He thinks you are easy to love, there can be no doubt that you are worthy without the need to earn it.

“And all I can taste is this moment, And all I can breathe is your life.”

You have reminded him, again and again that you love him, that he does not need to pay for it, or gift for it. That everything that is offered is freely given, and wholehearted. That there is nothing to earn. It is not a transaction, no relationship should be. You do not keep score, and you would rather he did not either.

“And sooner or later it’s over, I just don’t want to miss you tonight.”

It still leaves him with the feeling that in seconds he could wake up, in a cold cave, surrounded by gems he no longer sees beauty in, in a world where he is nothing but broken horns and lost family.

“And I don’t want the world to see me, ‘Cause I don’t think that they’d understand, When everything’s meant to be broken, I just want you to know who I am.”

He loves you, he loves his life with you, and he is so scared-

Your hands move to his cheeks, his voice halts, wavering and pausing. Blinking at you. The microphone is out of your hands and you stretch up as tall as you can pressing a kiss to his eyelids. He almost drops his own, hand tightening on your waist. You sing just for him, lips at his cheek now, and his breath escapes in a long exhale, shaking.

You are his, you are his, you are his.

When his heart wavers, yours is there, keeping it beating, in time to a song only you can hear.

He is yours, he is yours, he is yours.

“I just want you to know who I am.”

He lifts you into his arms, and he sings with you, game forgotten because it doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters. If you are happy, he is happy, and he is so very happy with you in his arms.

If he wakes up tomorrow and you are not here, he will find you anywhere. He has done it before, and he will do it for the rest of time, because you are the one who sees him.

And later, when you are laughing and stumbling through his bedroom door, trying to pull away from the uncontrolled kisses he plants on your skin, tickling you and nipping, he will swear into your skin that he will always see you too.

Whoever you choose to be.

[imperialkatwala]

Thank you so much for the tag!!! :D

1.How many works on AO3? 200, as of today!!!!

2.Total AO3 wordcount? 1,336,437. Good Lord that's a lot akdsjmndfnj

3.Top 5 fics by kudos: (They're all DSMP anadsjmnsdmn I was most popular as a writer during the height of that fandom)

The Life and Times of Michael Underscore-Beloved, a fic in which Michael the baby piglin fixes the server simply by making everyone want to protect him and make him happy.

Hell Hath No Fury. A humans are space orcs fic, with some twists on the typical formula in that fandom. Featuring a bird man having a crush on a woman who could snap his bones and Tommy being the feral child he is. Also a space dog.

There's Nothing In This World I Wouldn't Do. My take on Philza joining the server before it was ever canon.

Eyes, Blood, Fear. I had an eldritch Phil phase for a while and wrote four fics in this little series. This one is about Tommy being adopted by an absolutely horrifying and unsettling creature! :D

In Which SBI Learns Something About Raccoons is a sweet little oneshot where I make Tommy a raccoon hybrid and then abuse the fact that some raccoons are affected by catnip.

4.What fandoms do you write for? Only Linked Universe for the moment, with a few Legend of Zelda only fics thrown in

5.Do you respond to comments? I respond to as many as I can! Comments make my heart happy, especially longer comments <3

6.Fic with the angstiest ending: Hmmm that's a tough one. I have Strong Opinions about happy endings, so even my angsty fics almost always have some hope at the end, if nothing else. I think I planned for Counting the Ceiling Tiles to have a pretty angsty ending, that's a DSMP unethical magical experimentation type fic.

7.Fic with the happiest ending: Very proud of It Takes Three, a Marin and Ravio and Legend wedding fic :D That one was a collaboration with heademptilee! Let my boy be happy and cry like a baby on his wedding day, he deserves it

8.Do you get hate? I did for a little bit in. I want to say late 2021/early 2022? A bunch of people from Twitter were absolutely vicious about my decision to make a villain character transphobic, and didn't really back off even when I deleted those chapters. Crazy times. I haven't had anything like that happen before or since

9.Do you write smut? God made it a horrible struggle for me to write anything spicier than holding hands because he knew that if I could write smut I would become too powerful. It takes me an hour to write a kissing scene bc the words don't word. Send help

10.Do you write crossovers? I don't write a whole lot of them anymore but I imagine so very many. It's enrichment for me. Brain stirfry

11.Ever had a fic stolen? I'm not aware of it if I have

12.Have you ever had a fic translated? A few people have left comments over the years asking if they could, and I said absolutely, so I assume they did it!

13.Have you ever cowritten a fic? Oh absolutely! I love cowriting, it's so fun. A lot of my most popular LU fics I cowrote with PolynomialPandemic!

14.All-time favorite ship? Idk about all-time, I would say my shipping tends to be about the same intensity fandom to fandom. Right now I'm a big fan of Malink, Ravioli, and Vidow

15.WIPs you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Mmm several of my DSMP fics, I had so many good ideas for them and then I had to take an abrupt step back from the fandom and all my motivation just fizzled. Also Forcing a Change, I had a scene from the very end of the fic written out and was SO excited for people to see it but never ended up getting that far

16.Writing strengths? Conveying emotion, and I would say probably dialogue as well

17.Writing weaknesses? Action. God I'm so bad at writing combat

18.Thoughts on mixed language dialogue? As someone who was big into Clone Wars and The Mandalorian for a while, I love a bit of culture building or character building through language. I think there are right and wrong ways to do it, but as long as you're being respectful and do your research (and preferably either have a translation in the notes, or make it obvious what's being said through context), it can really add to a story.

19.First fandom you ever wrote for? Doctor Who! It quickly became a Superwholock crossover even though Doctor Who was the only show of the three I had actually seen haha. It's sitting in a folder on my computer where no one will ever see it except me, on rare occasions, for nostalgia purposes. The first fic I ever posted anywhere was about a Homestuck oc!

20.Favorite fic you've ever written? You can't just ask me to choose between my children :(

In all seriousness, my favorite changes on a daily basis. I'm most proud of the stuff I've finished most recently, as much as I love the old stuff, too. Right now that means one of my favorites is Get Cozy, Deity, which I just posted today! :D It probably won't hold that spot for long, though asadmndsmn

Tagging: uhhhh hm @locus-p0cus @savimatteo2810 and anyone else who wants to participate!

Tagged by the wonderful @zarvasace

1. How many works on AO3? 8!

2. Total AO3 word count? 132k Which is, uh, more than 10k a month. How did I manage that?

3. Top 5 fics by kudos:

Two Moon Pearls and the Master Sword the chain gatecrash Legend's first quest. Honestly, I'll be surprised if this is ever surpassed. It's my oldest, but also it's a good combination in terms of length, accessibility, and story I think.

Ocarina, Oracle Sequel to the above! The chain gatecrash OoA and OoT. There's a pipeline from people reading Moon Pearls to reading this nowadays. It'll be interesting to see how it goes, it is a longer read after all.

Mandatory Puppy Pile The funniest and shortest fic I have. This was second place after Moon Pearls for a long, long time. We love wolfbrain Twi.

Reasonable Assumptions The little fic that could. This came out after Moon Pearls and it's always done... fine. It's not the funniest, or best, or angstiest or most anything else of anything I've done, but it chugs along. Hyrule, Legend and Wild meet in Hyrule's era. None of them realise time travel has occurred.

Requiem of the Wind Ghost ship and space whales. 8.5k Wind centric one shot. I feel like this one is very me lmao. I like it! It'd be nice if it got more attention. I reckon Fortuity is going to overtake it though.

4. What fandoms do you write for? Zelda/LU exclusively at the moment

5. Do you respond to comments? Yep, all of them. The authors that influenced me tended to do it, so it just seemed the normal thing to do.

6. Fic with the angstiest ending: Hero of Hyrule The fic people skip, presumably because it's dark. I wouldn't say it's an unhappy ending though.

7. Fic with the happiest ending: Fortuity Shot story, happy ending, and co-author who would happily write the fluff for me <3

8. Do you get hate? Nah. Shout out to the bookmark that called OcaOra a solid 7/10 for being complicated and not as emotional as preferred though LMAO

9. Do you write smut? I have not written fic smut 😐

10. Do you write crossovers? Nope

11. Ever had a fic stolen? Nope, not that I'm aware of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope again!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic? @whitewinterstar and I wrote Fortuity together! It was a fun time <3

14. All-time favorite ship? I'm not much of a shipper to be perfectly honest! 'All time' is a big ask too!

Uhh, I loved Nagisa and Tomoya in Clannad After Story.

15. WIPs you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Ha haaa... I'm gonna work on Completionist again one day, really I am.

16. Writing strengths? APPARENTLY PACING??? I've had several people complement this recently so huh. Dialogue, characterisation, having a couple of genres going at once.

17. Writing weaknesses? Painting a picture of the setting, generally setting the environment, fights probably, too much telling and not enough showing sometimes.

18. Thoughts on mixed language dialogue? I don't really have thoughts on mixed language dialogue. 🤷‍♀️ Maybe I should get some.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Technically I have a single Naruto one shot out there...

20. Favorite fic you've ever written? Two Moon Pearls and the Master Sword will always be my baby.

Tagging: @needfantasticstories @nyastri @not-freyja @zolanort @somer-writes

[emry-stars]

What kind of job positions are available in your oc world??

Honestly it's pretty basic! Since it's a low fantasy setting, I don't have a ton of stuff (beyond the occasional witch or priest/ess) that you wouldn't find in any other medieval setting :) cobblers, coopers, bakers, artisans, all of the above!

There is one job that a named character has that isn't as common though, and that is bug (specifically beetle) farmer 😌

Lolo loves bugs and keeps them as a hobby and a business gig, because beetles and other bugs have some uses! You can get poisons/sedatives and some medications from them as well as silk and dye, and some are raised as snack foods lol. Since medicine is a huge practice and industry in these sister cities, the medicinal qualities are very handy. Periodically Lolo saves up enough silk to sell, which is a nice little payday for her and her partners 💕 but she isn't a full farm, she's one person with a side gig and a little help, so the dyes and food products are the most common selling points for her bugs!

Though she does have favorites and some of them are just her pets :)

[suburbanbonfire]

Oh my gosh I totally don’t go here (resident leafs dumbass) but your art is incredible!!! I love the style so much!!

THANK YOU!! <3 the tumblr hockey sphere is so fucking great, it's so welcoming i love you all (and leafs are great, I love them too, they just haven't spoken to me artistically yet, you are more than welcome here)

[blasphemlm]

hi im a big fan of your fics! but im wondering in the latest wrf update where does franky get his clothes from??

Oh you're gonna love this

Pocket dimension.

[blizzardfluffykpop]

why the fuck do i miss pigeons

[cultivating-wildflowers]

🪓

[kisssukuna33]

Sukuna would be the type of boyfriend to be overly protective. Not just because of his possessiveness just because he loves you so much.

You want to go shopping? He will always go with you no matter how many bags he will have to carry around while following you like a puppy. You want to take a walk? He's already putting on his shoes. You are going to a girl's night out? He will drive you to the place by his cab and analyzes the place for a good few minutes before he feels satisfied enough to leave you there. Hell! He will wait outside the whole time if you let him be but you always reject the idea because you don't want Sukuna to appear crazy in front of your friends.

It's the same when you two go out in public. Sukuna will always keep a hand on your waist or hold your hand the entire time. If anyone dare to look your way he make sure they see the disgusted scowl in his face everytime. Sometimes "The fuck are you looking at?" right after.

Let's talk about traveling with Sukuna as your bf because this man personally research every place you two would go to before the trip, if you recommend a sketchy or a dangerous spot he immediately rejects it in a second even though Sukuna and his cab have been through much more worse places than you could imagine but that doesn't matter anymore because now he has a priority to take care of. He would put on your seatbelt by himself just to make sure. And if you two are trying out new foods in the wild he is always the first to take a bite just to make sure it won't harm his girl. When you two check into a hotel worry not Sukuna will always make sure you two get the best room even if it means bribing the hotel employees. If you are hiking and show even a little bit of tiredness Sukuna won't hesitate to picking you up in a second. His excuse is "Tch, you are making us slow woman" when in reality he doesn't want to see you in pain. You wanted to bathe in the river? He won't let you move through the waters alone no hell no, he will carry you until he finds a spot suitable in the river that isn't deep enough to put you down.

It's worse when you are sick. He will stick by your side tending to you and taking care of you 24/7. He make sure you get the right amount of medicine and food and if you refuse to eat he will personally feed you, if you reject again he will literally find a way to threaten you.

"I don't want to eat Kuna!! Please"

"I won't ask again brat open up"

"is that suppose to scare me?"

"Fine then, that ugly ass plushie you love so much is going down the toilet"

"NO!!"

There are times where his overprotectiveness tend to go a little too far and you aren't afraid to confront him about it when that happens and Sukuna always welcome your criticism with open arms and tries to change despite his stubborn and rigid ways because that is what it means to be loved by Ryomen Sukuna.

I love this man sm omg <333 I want to write more bf Sukuna, send me ideas please :D!!

[icharchivist]

Classic Cilius, driving people insane

He sure do be like that

that's what he does best <3333

what would be a Cilius centric thing if not something that makes you feel completely insane anyway.

plus (and my friend would kill me for saying that so i just have to hope he won't check my blog again) my friend is a lot like Sandalphon (i'd call him a kinnie but he never self identified as one. but everyone knows.) so this is a layer of hilarity to me in particular.

seeing my friend with his Sandalphon icon swear because Lucilius is tormenting him is always on brand <333