Art By Rolf Mellstrom, 1916

I feel so seen 🥺😈

For the ones that need it today

Winter (January, Cycle of the Months), c.1404-07 by Master Wenceslas 

Trento, Castello del Buonconsiglio, Torre d’Aquilla (The Eagle’s Tower)

Late 60s Early 70s medieval revival part 1

A favor? Would you change the link on "Let me be ta'en" to the ao3 work? Right now it links to the earlier drawing on tumblr, which really isn't as good. Oh! I also finished a drawing for "Believe me, love" and linked to the drabble. One to go... but I'm having trouble deciding what image to go with for the third and final drabble. Any suggestions?

<3,

Sunfall

Hi Sunfall! I can of course! I'll do that now. Sorry for the late reply, I suspect we're in very different timezones. Just rolled over and found your second gift/related fic, thank you again so much, I can't tell you what a treat it is and how happy it's making me that you've be so inspired by my microfics (especially you, since I've been lurking on your art on Ao3 for a while now). As for the scene for the third fic, how about the ending scene when they're holding hands in the sunlight that's coming into the cottage? You could maybe have hints at what they've been through, like scars for Merlin or his ash walking stick leaning nearby? That's how I imagine the scene. Whatever you decide to do though I'll be over the moon the receive it ❤️!

-Mighty

The Wyrm's Garden

“Cerridwen, Cerridwen, Lady of The Cauldron come see what they have done.

Stolen your Cauldron’s power, and betrayed your only son,

Your eyes wide, lips curl, anger on your face

Change your shape now, lady; be the hound, begin the chase.”

✨COMPLETE✨

A hand grasped his arm, sending a brief thrill down Merlin's nerves as he was forced around to face the person behind him. Armour gleamed in the firelight: supple chainmail glinted, and the solid iron of a pauldron curved lovingly over one broad shoulder. The length of a sword blade separated them. The point hovered, steady and sure, over Merlin's heart, braced to run him through, but he did not care about any of that. He was too busy drinking in the sight of the man before him. He could never forget him, no matter how many centuries had passed. 'Arthur?' When Merlin ultimately fails in his destiny, the fading remnants of magic that linger in the modern world fling him not just back in time, but sideways as well. He ends up in a Camelot where all his friends are alive, well and aware of his magic. He ends up in a Camelot where his alternate self died almost a year ago. Can he, Arthur and their friends still forge the golden age he was once promised, or will grief and suspicion tear them apart?

It's finally done. I just posted the hundredth, and final, chapter on AO3. A huge thank you to everyone who has joined me on this ride. I'm delighted to have been part of your lives in some small way. 💖

If you enjoyed this fic, I'd love a reblog to help spread awareness that it's finally done 🙏

Merlin: I won't say "I told you so." Merlin, 0.2 seconds later: I told you so.

2025

BE A STUDENT OF WHAT YOU ADMIRE

DO IT BADLY RATHER THAN NOT AT ALL

TO DESPAIR IS TO CEDE VICTORY TO THOSE WHO DO NOT DESERVE IT

BROADEN YOUR CULTURAL HORIZONS

REVEL IN THE ANALOGUE

ACTION ABSORBS ANXIETY

GRIEF IS PRODUCTIVE; GUILT IS NOT

Today will be attempt 37 of trying to get something other than a bob.

You see, I have these duel curses and there are that 1. I'm apparently not enough of baddie to be given a not-bob and 2. that I belong in bob-jail for even asking.

Last time, I fought tooth and nail (asked very politely and over-explained myself and my choices) for an undercut that no one could even see under the bob I was given.

Wish me luck.