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fleurseraph.bsky.social
fleur | semi-hiatus
@fleurseraph.bsky.social
250 followers 380 following 1.7K posts
fleur 🌸 she/fae・🔞🏳️‍🌈♊✡️
adult・writing angst & fluff! taken 🩷💜 2/14/22

fe3h・trigun・idv・bravely default

ao3: seraphikiss 💌

🚫 antis・minors
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fleurseraph.bsky.social
normal conversation between my best friend and one of my alters.
Dimitri: Guys… where do babies come from? Miklan: Your mom. Sylvain: When a man and a woman love each other— Hilda: The storks. Duh! Marianne: We are all children of the Goddess. Yuri: I had mine delivered off the dark web. Byleth: Sexual intercourse.
November 16, 2025 at 10:06 AM
fleurseraph.bsky.social
working on something original for a change. a little murder mystery from the perspective of a cat. why? because cats are cool. #wip #murdermystery #mystery #crime #cats #fic #original #workinprogress
The sunbeam is a perfect, warm rectangle on the floorboards. Lucky Shadow, or Lucky for short, lies in its center, a sleek black void soaking up the morning light. His tail gives a lazy, contented twitch. The house is quiet, as it should be. It smells of old paper, dried lavender, and the faint, clean-sharp scent of his human’s bandages. It smells like home. A floorboard creaks in the hallway. Lucky’s ears swivel toward the sound. The footsteps are soft, hesitant. They always are. Noah, Lucky’s human, appears in the doorway, a silhouette against the dim hall light. Even from here, Lucky can see the dark circles that swallow the space beneath his human’s strange, red eyes. The white of the bandages around his head is a stark contrast to his messy black hair, and more wrappings peek out from the cuffs of his oversized sweater. Noah’s scent is a familiar mix: gentle soap, the paint he uses for his artwork, and the ever-present, underlying hum of fear. “Hey, Lucky,”
November 16, 2025 at 5:34 AM
fleurseraph.bsky.social
miklan for archbishop 1185.

#wip #fe3h #fe3hfic #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3
The pain in Miklan’s chest keeps him up all night. This is the second time since he’s got here that he didn’t get any sleep. But instead of on the floor like he prefers it, his back is sinking into the plush mattress beneath him, something far too gentle for him to feel or even experience. Over the course of these past few weeks Miklan has made literally zero progress. Crime number one: He trauma dumped in front of the Crowned Prince. Crime number two: he beat up a teenager that’s the same height as him. Three, humiliated an Adrestian noble by calling out his obliviousness to the horrors of the world. And now? Now Miklan is one step closer to sleeping in a dusty prison cell instead of the slightly less dirty floors of his gilded cell. The cell which happens to be next door to the Professor who started this mess.
November 15, 2025 at 3:01 PM
fleurseraph.bsky.social
baby boy is trying his BEST!!!!
She walks over to the desk to dispose of the bloody cloth. As she passes, her eyes catch the parchment pinned to the bulletin board. The pages covered in the rough, repetitive scrawls of his name. She pauses, her head tilting slightly, as if she’s just assessing the progress. Miklean. mikLON. M I C K L A N She doesn't offer praise or comment on the 'expressive' handwriting, just simply nods once, a small, final confirmation that the “homework” had been done, and she was aware of his effort. Then she opens her door. “I will be in the next room,” she states. “If your breathing worsens, you will knock twice. Understood?” “Yeah. Sure,” Miklan mutters, the lie tasting like ash. He wouldn't knock if his lung collapsed. She closes the door behind her, leaving him in the absolute, smothering quiet of the room. He remains splayed on the bed, still clutching his shirt over his ribs, staring at the perfect ceiling.
November 15, 2025 at 2:52 AM
fleurseraph.bsky.social
well guys here you have it. my nanowrimo project is underway.
Hi my name is Miklan Dark’ness Dementia Anschutz Gautier Way and I have long blood hair (that's how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my mid-shoulders and brown eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Amy Lee (AN: if u don't know who she is get da hell out of here!). I'm not related to Gerard Way but I wish I was because he's a major fucking hottie. I'm a vampire but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I'm also a witch, and I go to a magic school called Garreg Mach in Fodlan where I'm in the seventh year (I'm seventeen). I'm a goth (in case you couldn't tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was walking outside Garreg Mach. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of preps stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them. "Hey Miklan!" shouted a voice. I looked up. It was... Felix Hugo Fraldarius! "What's up Felix?" I asked. "Nothing." he said shyly. But then, I heard my friends call me and I had to go away.
November 15, 2025 at 2:28 AM
fleurseraph.bsky.social
have you ever laughed so hard at your own writing because i just rolled off my bed laughing
Felix shoves him off, scrambling for purchase on the dusty floor. He gets to one knee, breathing in ragged, painful gasps, a trickle of blood already escaping the corner of his mouth. Miklan pushes himself up, his whole body a symphony of fresh aches, his head pounding. They stare at each other across the small space, two bloodied, panting animals ready for the next round. “I’m… going to kill you,” Felix grits out, his voice shaking with a rage so profound it’s almost holy. “Try it,” Miklan spits back. They’re about to lunge at each other again when a voice, sharp with shock and disbelief, cuts through the haze of their hatred. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU MOTHERFUCKERS?!” It was……………… Sylvain!
November 15, 2025 at 1:49 AM
fleurseraph.bsky.social
short king.
For a moment, he feels more like the demonic beasts his mother used to tell stories about than he does a 5’7” man stuck being babysat in a monastery.
November 14, 2025 at 8:35 PM
fleurseraph.bsky.social
posted chapter one of my silly little miklan centric fic since i'm already 500 years late for fe3h rarepair week.

#fe3h #fireemblem #fe3hfic #fanfic #fic #fanfiction
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: F/M Fandoms: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Fire Emblem Series Relationships: Miklan/My Unit | Byleth, Sylvain Jose Gautier & Miklan Characters: Miklan (Fire Emblem), My Unit | Byleth, Edelgard von Hresvelg, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Claude von Riegan, Black Eagles Students (Fire Emblem), Sylvain Jose Gautier Additional Tags: Trans Male Character, Trans Miklan (Fire Emblem), Redemption, Miklan Redemption (Fire Emblem), Chapter 5: Tower of Black Winds (Fire Emblem), Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Miklan Being an Asshole (Fire Emblem), Self-Esteem Issues, Gender Dysphoria, Power Imbalance, Teacher-Student Relationship, Crests (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Class Differences, Politics, Work In Progress, Enemies to Lovers, mama's boy miklan, Canon-Typical Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Sylvain Jose Gautier Needs A Hug, Because Miklan (Fire Emblem), (he needs a hug too), Song: Faith (Ghost Sweden Band) Language: English
November 14, 2025 at 8:18 PM
fleurseraph.bsky.social
*ferdinand voice* the professor says it is now MY turn with the braincell.

#fe3h #fic #fanfic #wip
“Miklan Anschutz Gautier! A fine day, is it not? It is good to see you putting your time to productive use!” Miklan freezes. He doesn't have to turn around to know who it is. The voice belongs to the most obnoxiously noble of all the students he’s seen, the one with the fiery orange hair and a posture that screamed ‘I am Ferdinand von Aegir.’ He turns slowly, his glare not leaving his face. Ferdinand is beaming at him, utterly oblivious to the storm of resentment in Miklan's chest. “I was just telling the Professor that integrating you into the fold is a truly noble endeavor! Every soul has its place, and finding yours is a duty we all share!” “First of all, how did you even know my middle name,” Miklan says, although he isn’t accusing or questioning it — just sick and tired of people. “And second, this is nothing but community service.”
November 14, 2025 at 7:02 PM
fleurseraph.bsky.social
haven't written a FE3H fic in a while and since i kind of forgot about rarepair week here's a little mikleth.

#fe3h #fic #fanfic #wip #wipwed (i know it's friday but shh.)
She maneuvers his hand, the one that has held a lance with enough force to kill, and guides the quill back to the bottom of the page. The Professor leans in, her proximity making every muscle in his body tense. She begins to read the oath aloud, her voice flat and devoid of any judgment, which is somehow worse. "I, the undersigned, do hereby swear my fealty to the Archbishop of the Church of Seiros, and to the divine goddess who guides her…" As she speaks, she moves his hand. The first letter of his name is a shaky, pathetic thing. He feels like a child again, a clumsy, stupid child. Her hand guides his through the rest of it. M-i-k-l-a-n
November 14, 2025 at 6:26 PM
fleurseraph.bsky.social
fleu’s typo of the day.
…gunshots, thunder rolling from the distant valley. He shuts his phone off and leans back in the passenger seat, eyes shitting.
November 5, 2025 at 9:23 PM
fleurseraph.bsky.social
working on something cute and special. my goal is to write for many different fandoms outside of my primary ones. here's a little snippet of my avengers fic! feedback is appreciated. <3
Thor has discovered the joys of Frisbee. The children, initially imitated by his size and armor, are won immediately over by his booming laugh. “This flying shield is a marvel of Midgardian craftsmanship!” he bellows, catching the plastic disc with one hand. “Now, watch as I return it with the force of a mighty storm!” “Thor, wait—” Bruce cuts in, but it’s too late. With the flick of a wrist, Thor sends the Frisbee soaring. It shoots right up into the sky, almost defying gravity as it slowly disappears, flying further and further to the sun. The children fall silent. “My apologies, small warriors. My strength knows not its own limits in gentle games.” Bruce pats his arm gently. “It’s okay, big guy. Just a little too much relative velocity.”
November 4, 2025 at 4:16 PM
fleurseraph.bsky.social
inspired by a mutual, i've decided to take fic requests. i can write for the any of the fandoms listed below in the text below. the bolded fandoms are my personal favorites!

i can write fluff, humor, domestic, slice of life, or angst. feel free to drop a prompt! <3
**identity v** - **fire emblem three houses** - fire emblem awakening - fire emblem engage - the Batman (2022 movie)/batman - bravely default - octopath traveler - the pitt - live a live - ace no diamond - angel beats! - indiana jones - star trek - star wars - trigun stampede - sesame street & **the muppets** - older disney & pixar movies (**toy story**, cars) - **pirates of the caribbean** - blue's clues - **the wiggles** - max & ruby
November 4, 2025 at 3:29 AM
fleurseraph.bsky.social
writing some possessive old man yaoi on this fine mlm monday.

#identityv #idv #alvaseph #fanfic #wip #fanfiction #mlm #fic #yaoi #ao3fic
As Alva works with practical ease, a new variable enters the equasion. Joseph’s own hands move, catching Alva’s wrist in a firm grip of his own. Alva glimpses up, eyes slightly widening, caught off guard by the abrupt movement. The smile on his face remains, and both men realize now, the attempt of establishing a power dynamic has just experienced a critical failure. Joseph slowly removes Alva’s hand from his waistcoat, instead guiding it to his side in a silent command. A flicker of curiosity appears in Alva’s eyes. His own methology is being used against him. He remains still, his body an object of Joseph’s own study — a muse, not a subject.
November 3, 2025 at 9:37 PM
fleurseraph.bsky.social
little halloween one shot WIP, where miklan learns the ins and outs of halloween.

#fe3h #fic #fanfic #wip #halloween #fe3hfic #fanfiction
“Uh… aren’t those Annette’s initials on the basket?” Miklan, poker faced, shakes his head. “No.” Ingrid, who has been silent for the entire time, curls her lips and crosses her arms, a blonde demon’s fury. “Are you kidding me, Miklan? You stole candy from Annette?” “She said it’s Halloween.” Miklan reaches for a chocolate bar in the basket. “She said it’s about getting free chocolate.” “That… is not how you do it, Mik.”
October 31, 2025 at 2:20 PM
fleurseraph.bsky.social
i'm hyperlexic so most of these were written in october too. and i have my long fic, "the art of subversion", that i am working on. <3
October 31, 2025 at 4:24 AM
fleurseraph.bsky.social
"fleur, do you have any idea what a slow burn is?" no, and i never will, because i want these two to KISS.

#wip #alvaseph #idv #identityv #fanfic #fanfiction #fic #idvfic #identityvfic #ao3
He looks at Joseph, and for a moment, the analytical glint in his eyes is replaced by something else, something akin to genuine admiration. "Your hypothesis is not only plausible, Desaulniers. It's elegant." The word hangs between them, as charged as any physical touch. ‘Elegant.’ It's a word Joseph uses to describe a perfect composition, a flawless line. It's a word of art, not science, and hearing it from Alva's lips sends a slow, surprising warmth spreading through Joseph's chest. He can feel the heat radiating from Alva's shoulder, smells the faint, clean scent of the lab chemicals clinging to his coat, mixed with something uniquely his own. Like earth. Like a flower. The professional distance between them has collapsed into something sharp, intimate, and deeply unsettling.
October 31, 2025 at 12:20 AM
fleurseraph.bsky.social
#wipwed identity v fic for nortpheus. inspired by a prompt claim on ao3.
He slides a worn copy of The Merchant of Venice into place, right next to Hamlet and brushes dust from his hands. He would work on sorting his Yiddish literature collection next, but his work is done for the day. He turns and leans against the bookshelf, his gaze falling on Norton, who stands still as a statue by the rain-streaked window. He’s watching the water trace paths down the glass, his profile a sharp, thoughtful line against the grey afternoon. "You know," Orpheus says, his voice soft, not wanting to break the quiet mood, "I was thinking about that little town you're from. The one you never talk about." Norton gives no sign he’s heard, save for the slightest tightening of his shoulders. Orpheus doesn't notice. "It's just... I'm glad you left it," Orpheus continues, pushing off the shelf. He crosses the room and wraps his arms loosely around Norton's waist from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder to look out the window with him. The fabric of Norton's shirt is warm, and for a moment, the embrace feels perfect. "You seem so much more yourself here in the States than you would have in Bonnyrigg. You truly have a fresh start. A whole new life." The words, meant as a comfort, still.
October 29, 2025 at 5:20 AM
fleurseraph.bsky.social
probably my absolute favorite moment of my entire fic so far and i had to share it with y'all. :3

#wip #fe3h #fanfic #fic #fanfiction
Edelgard sighs, a sound of regal exasperation, almost rolling her eyes. "You have more work to do. However, because of your unique skills in infiltration and your demonstrated leadership in a chaotic environment, I have decided to formalize your unit. You and those who comprised the Ailel vanguard will be chartered as an independent auxiliary unit of the Empire." Hubert steps forward, unrolling the scroll with a crisp snap that makes Bernadetta, who had been hiding behind a barrel, jump. Edelgard continues, her voice ringing with pronouncement. "Henceforth, you will be known as the leader of the Crimson Talon Reconnaissance Corps of the Black Eagle Strike Force." The name hangs in the air, heavy and ornate. Miklan just stares at her, his mind snagging on the sheer number of syllables. "Reco… reconn… re… uhh… huh?" Miklan manages, blinking. It sounds less like a unit and more like a line item on a noble's ridiculously long list of titles. “None of them words are in the Book of Seiros, Your Majesty.”
October 28, 2025 at 4:03 AM
fleurseraph.bsky.social
day 6 of #allshipsweek is here! sci-fi references, sharing sweets and sarcasm... can't get more yurihardt than that. <3

#fanfic #fic #fanfiction #fe3h #fireemblem

archiveofourown.org/works/73091621
Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses Relationship: Linhardt von Hevring/Yuri Leclerc Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Road Trips, Getting Together, Slice of Life, Fluff, Attempt at Humor, Soft, First Dates, Mutual Pining, Touch-Starved, Bickering, Banter, Friends to Lovers, Sleepy Linhardt von Hevring, Bad Jokes, Song: Running on Empty (Jackson Browne). Language: English Collections: All Ships Week 2025
October 25, 2025 at 3:28 PM
fleurseraph.bsky.social
wip wfriday, getting ready for day 6 of #allshipsweek early! :3

writing yurihardt is my excuse to make pop culture references and write more crack treated seriously.

#fe3h #fic #fanfic #fe3hfic #yurihardt #fireemblem #fanfiction #ao3 #ao3fic #wip
"Aha," Linhardt mutters, squinting at a diagram. Yuri gets out of the car, bringing his purple iPhone out of his pocket He clicks on the flashlight, bathing the engine in a bright, clean light. "See anything, Doc Brown?" Linhardt stares at the manual, then back at the engine. He taps a grimy-looking box. "According to this," he says, his voice full of academic certainty, "the issue is either a catastrophic failure of the serpentine belt... or, we're out of gas."
October 24, 2025 at 5:27 PM
fleurseraph.bsky.social
was also late for day four, but here she is! byleth mistakes miklan, the slipknot blasting, hokas wearing older brother to her actual date.

#allshipsweek #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #fe3h #fe3hfic

archiveofourown.org/works/73019851
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: F/M Fandom: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses Relationship: Miklan/My Unit | Byleth Characters: Miklan (Fire Emblem), My Unit | Byleth, Sylvain Jose Gautier Additional Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Awkward Dates, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coffee Shops, Good Sibling Miklan (Fire Emblem), Social Anxiety, First Dates, Fluff, Attempt at Humor, Crack Treated Seriously, Accidental Relationship, Sylvain Jose Gautier Being Sylvain Jose Gautier, My Unit | Byleth Has Emotions. Language: English Collections: All Ships Week 2025
October 24, 2025 at 5:36 AM
fleurseraph.bsky.social
wip wfriday for #allshipsweek, this time with mistaken identity miklan/f!byleth. byleth mistakes miklan for his taller, flamboyant younger brother, and miklan awkwardly plays along.

#wip #fanfic #fe3h #fe3hfic
"One caramel catastrophe, for the man of chaos, Sylvain himself," she says, taking a sip of her own coffee. Miklan stares at the drink. It stares back, daring him. He has to drink it. He has to lift this cup of pure, liquid sugar to his lips and pretend he enjoys it. He wraps a hand around the cup, forces a smile that feels like it might crack his face, and takes a sip. The syrupy sweetness that coats his tongue is so overwhelming he thinks his teeth might fall out on the spot. "Perfect," he chokes out, his soul quietly leaving his body. “Definitely doesn’t taste like NyQuil at all!”
October 24, 2025 at 5:00 AM
fleurseraph.bsky.social
a late day 3 for #allshipsweek with #idv #alvaseph! joseph and alva build a little home together, brick by brick.

#ficwip #allshipsweek2025 #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #identityv

archiveofourown.org/works/73014411
Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: 第五人格 | Identity V (Video Game) Relationship: Joseph Desaulnier | Photographer/Alva Lorenz | Hermit Characters: Alva Lorenz | Hermit, Joseph Desaulnier | Photographer Additional Tags: Building Together, Quiet, No Dialogue, Slice of Life, Light Angst, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Inspired by Music, Established Relationship, Married Life, Song: To Build a Home (The Cinematic Orchestra), POV Joseph Desaulnier | Photographer, Internal Monologue, Sad Joseph Desaulnier | Photographer, Soft, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, No Oletus Manor (Identity V), Selectively Mute Alva Lorenz | Hermit, References to Star Wars: Original Trilogy, The Lord of the Rings References. Language: English Collections: All Ships Week 2025
October 24, 2025 at 3:16 AM
fleurseraph.bsky.social
the headcanon that miklan was a mama's boy lives in my head rent free.
“New plan. We’re not sneaking out. We’re walking.” The silence that follows is absolute. Felix blinks once, then twice. “You’ve lost your damn mind.” “Maybe,” Miklan shrugs, a strange, wild energy starting to buzz under his skin. “But hear me out. They’re expecting thieves. Shadows. People crawling through vents and hiding under pews.” He gestures vaguely at the dusty, forgotten chapel. “What they’re not expecting is a bunch of Imperial officers—battered, bruised, and dragging their wounded comrades—stumbling out the front gates like they just survived a skirmish.” Byleth’s eyes narrow, her analytical mind already dissecting the idea. “You want us to pretend we’re retreating.” “Yep. My mom loved the opera, so I’ve learned a few tricks of the trade. And we’re not gonna look well. Think ‘barely holding it together.’ Think ‘we lost half our squad and barely escaped with our lives.’” “Your mom had better taught you well.” “Don’t worry,” Miklan waves a hand dismissively. “I’m a Gautier—I learned from the very best. I was her favorite son, after all.” “Miklan,” Sylvain interjects, “you were her only son.”
October 23, 2025 at 1:39 AM