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avem--geminis-blog · 5 years
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[meme] ✍ (//whichever twin you’d like, or Robin for @i—gnis, if you’d prefer-)
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(( I have never ever ever drawn Morgan but what a sweetie pie. ))
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avem--geminis-blog · 5 years
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three word starters pt. 2
“don’t you dare.”
“look at me.”
“just forget it.”
“i’m not mad.”
“you’re being mean.”
“what a mess.”
“you are perfect.”
“jesus fucking christ.”
“you’ll be okay.”
“take a seat.”
“don’t let go.”
“oh my god.”
“you’re the worst.”
“you’re my favorite.”
“i ruined everything.”
“you ruined everything.”
“just trust me.”
“i’m not drunk.”
“i feel lost.”
“i’m so alone.”
“you’re not alone.”
“hold onto me.”
“just come here.”
“stay the night.”
“please just go.”
“please don’t go.”
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avem--geminis-blog · 5 years
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Headcanons
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avem--geminis-blog · 5 years
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Headcanon!// Marc
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     Very much unlike his twin sister, Morgan, Marc was not exactly trusting of Robin at first. He knew this man was his technically his father, but for someone as standoff-ish around strangers and new situations as Marc is, technically simply was not enough. The boy took it upon himself to keep his distance from the man at first, and take every word he said only with a grain of salt, and nothing more. Sure, all of the memories he had of this man were good, and Marc knew he loved his father in his own time, but the boy simply did not know for sure if the Robin him and his sister had stumbled upon was the same man that had raised them from birth. To Marc, it very much sounded too good to be true to one day stumble upon the one person that the twins could remember, and remember vividly, at that. He knew he wanted nothing to do the strategist until that man proved himself trustworthy...Though it was not exactly ideal that Morgan seemed more than keen on sticking to the man’s side at every single chance she got. The protective part of Marc wanted to keep her away from him, or at least keep her at a safe distance until the Robin from that time proved safe, but the boy can’t monitor her all the time, or totally dictate her life, so eventually, he had to take a step back and allow Morgan to love their father from that time. 
     That being said, it only takes Marc a few odd months to eventually come around and start trusting, believing, and loving Robin, and accepting the man as his father, even if it is on a technicality. From his time or not, Marc loves that man dearly.
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avem--geminis-blog · 5 years
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@breadbasketofmuses// (cont. from here)
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     To say that Marc felt tired and worn after a long day of training and drills would be an understatement. His neck and shoulders ached, his legs muscles felt stiff, and his feet felt as though they might fall off at any moment. But, if there was anything that could make the boy feel better--aside from a warm bath and some rest, of course--, was a hot meal after such a rough day. And so that basic need had led the pink-haired lad to the mess hall, his mouth already watering from the faint scent of the army’s dinner lingering in the air. Though, as he approached his well-deserved meal, he did wonder just where his dear, twin sister had run off to, for it is rather odd of her to not only miss a meal, but miss a meal with himself, and their father. Surely, the boy thought as he crossed his arms behind his head, that she was just attending to other matters, and would be back in time for dinner. Or perhaps she was not feeling hungry at all, and went straight to bed...Either way, Marc would be sure to save her a plate, just in case.
     Walking up to the entrance of the hall, the boy’s observative eye can’t help but notice the slightly ajar door, cocking a single brow walking closer to investigate. He wouldn’t say it’s uncommon for the door to be open slightly, for normally it wasn’t fully closed to allow some air flow to the cooks, and to vent any growing heat or steam, but still. It seemed a bit too early for the doors to be open at this time in the evening. Surely, though, it is fine, he tells himself, and pushes the aged door open as he strides forward and-
   “What the-?!”
     A startled yelp escapes from the young man’s lips as he catches the glimpse of a silver bucket, followed by the feeling of being drenched by said bucket. The water alone was bad enough, the fact that it happened in front of other Shepherds also wasn’t ideal, but really made the experience worse was feeling the cold metal of the bucket once perched at the top of the door strike himself on his forehead, causing him--along with the now wet ground--, to slip backwards and land on his back, followed by a pained grunt, and then silence as the boy lay still, the opened part of the bucket covering his face.
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avem--geminis-blog · 5 years
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@shadesniper// (cont. from here)
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   “Um, well...I suppose you could say that. And it definitely had quite a bit to do with the book,”
     Marc’s smile is quickly replaced with an awkward frown, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand before glancing away nervously. His pink locks probably covered the redness and slight bruising on his forehead from his latest frustrating attempt at recovering his memories, but that didn’t make the prospect of actually having to resort to such...drastic measures, any better. It was obvious Marc and his sister weren’t exactly proud to remember next to nothing about their past, or where they’re even from, but that is exactly why the boy is seeking out the help of someone who hopefully knows something a big more advanced that smashing his head against the nearest hard object. He cannot say if it will be safer, however, or even less painful, but the boy is growing desperate on this point to remember anything, even if it’s a fraction of a foggy, short memory. He just wants to remember something, anything.
     Clearing his throat to hopefully clear up any awkwardness, the young male’s gaze returns to the sniper’s, as does his gentle grin. Knowing Noire, she may not feel comfortable helping him in the way he believes may work, but the boy still feels like it’s worth at least asking, if nothing else. That being said, he considers her a friend, and the last Marc would want to do is make her feel pressured into helping him, so he makes a mental note to avoid that at all costs, regardless of how bad he wants her to agree to his proposal.
   “I’m glad you asked that! I was actually reading some new material on the topic of restoring amnesia, and I stumbled upon a few books that seemed promising,”
     Removing his free hand from his neck, the boy grasps the books in his arms with both hands and holds them out to the girl, the title of the first book in the pile being incredibly faded, but ‘dark magic’ in golden writing was still visible.
   “Basically, what I gathered from them is that if the right hex is cast, then it could cure my amnesia! But apparently it’s very difficult to do, and I’m not exactly an expert on it. So I was wondering if you could...Maybe help me with it?”
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avem--geminis-blog · 5 years
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Children Disowned by Time♦▀▄
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((ooc. AYYEE Volty back with a revamped blog! Please LIKE or REBLOG this post to spread the word! ))
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avem--geminis-blog · 5 years
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Inbox Call!
((ooc. Please like this post for me to drop a Smoll Birb in your inbox! These will vary in length, as per usual, but expect at least two sentences.
PLEASE specify if you’d like Marc, Morgan, or both! And multies please specify a muse if you have a preference.
Message me if you’d like to plot and/or talk about anything! ))
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avem--geminis-blog · 5 years
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Manhandling symbol starters
Send one for your muse to…
★ - drag my muse by the arm ⁂ - grab my muse by the front of their shirt, possibly shoving them back ✱ - take my muse by the hips to carefully move them out of their way ➜ - smack my muse upside the head ⌧ - grip my muse by the back of the neck © - put a hand on my muse’s back to steer them somewhere ✂ - point sternly at a chair and tell my muse to sit down ✉ - push my muse back down when they try to get out of bed (perhaps involving illness, injury, or sleep deprivation) ☛ - press a finger to my muse’s lips to shut them up ♚ - put a hand on my muse’s knee while sitting next to them, to discourage them from standing up ♧ - slap my muse’s hand away from something they shouldn’t touch ♦ - grab my muse’s hair and yank ♤ - slam a door shut before my muse can leave the room ♞ - physically pick my muse up and carry them ♭ - grip my muse’s jaw to make them look yours in the eye ♨ - rub my muse down with a sponge/wet cloth  ☀ - pin my muse with their arms behind their back ☠ - slam my muse into a wall ☾ - wrestle/pin my muse to the ground
Add as much or as little context as you’d like!
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avem--geminis-blog · 5 years
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3/6/19 REVAMP
((ooc. As of right now. the blog’s name has changed (little--amnesic -> avem--geminis ) and BOTH Marc and Morgan are on here now. I’ve also updated the rules and completely re-did the theme. I may changed a few more things in the coming days but the blog is all ready to go! ))
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avem--geminis-blog · 5 years
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@i-nsubordination// (in reference to this post)
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     Morgan takes the necklace in her hands, examining it and its decorative jewels closely before allowing a smile to grace her pale, pink lips. Perhaps blessed nor cursed the object may be, the young tactician-in-training still can’t stop herself from absolutely loving it, and how could she not? She may have not paid a huge amount for the necklace itself, but the fact that her beloved grandmother is insisting she take it as a gift, coupled with the older woman’s kind and reassuring words to herself, make the pink-haired girl unable to not only accept the item, but cherish it so. Her grandmother is right, the girl thinks to herself--she really doesn’t need to resort to magic to attract anything, or anyone, to herself.
   “Ah! It’s beautiful, grandmother. Gorgeous, even...I love it,”
     The young teenager then takes a few moments to slip the accessory over her head, placing it carefully on her neck so that the jewels are clearly shown. Beaming with an innocent kind of joy and gratitude, the girl continues.
   “Thank you. You were right...I don’t need a blessing or anything at all. Maybe a bit of luck, but no magic,”
   “You’re the best!”
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avem--geminis-blog · 6 years
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((ooc. hi yes I just want to put it out there that if Morgan was raised under the right circumstances, I really do believe she could have turned out to be one cruel and sadistic individual. Like, you could say that for just about anyone, really, but with Morgan especially, since she already shows sadistic tendencies that she sometimes actually acts on to varying degrees. 
I really think if she wasn’t raised in the loving and caring way that Robin and Olivia raised her in, she’d be royally fucked up in how she treated people, and just how much remorse she’d feel. Think Validar but watered down, and not as violent or as easy to piss off. ))
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avem--geminis-blog · 6 years
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@forseeingprincess// (cont. from here)
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   “‘Sorry’? You attempted to unjustly murder my father where he stood, uncaring to the consequences of what would come if you actually killed him, and you’re ‘sorry’? Are you serious?”
     Furrowing her brow, Morgan’s tone takes quite the serious and even angered dip as she shoots quite the nasty glare the navy-haired girl’s way, clearly feeling less than touched by her words. The pink-haired girl had meant what she said when she stated she didn’t think she even wanted Lucina’s trust at all, let alone an apology from her. Not if the girl’s attempt at an apology was going to be as pitiful as that. It went against the young girl’s usually kind and trusting nature to feel so cross--so blindly angry, so distrustful--, towards another individual, especially the daughter of one of her father’s closest friends, but as Morgan quickly finds out, she can’t help herself. Her father is the only person she managed to remember--a man she looks up to more than anyone else in this world--, and this princess had the gall to try and take even that away, and for what? To save her own father? Sure, perhaps killing Robin would have extended Chrom’s life, but in the scheme of things, Lucina would have only doomed the world further. But did she realize that? The tactician-in-training couldn’t tell.
   “Did you really think murdering my father would help anything? Did you realize that killing him would guarantee the deaths of every single shepherd, your father, and everyone else in the world? You didn’t even have proof that what happened in your timeline would also take place in this one, and yet you were ready to resort to murder,”
     Morgan grits her teeth, narrowing her eyes at the older female as she attempts to calm herself. Honestly, she is disgusted with this girl right now that getting so upset almost isn’t even worth it, but she will not let the other just get away with this. Robin may have totally forgiven Lucina’s actions, but Morgan refuses to without good reason.
   “Maybe I should attempt to murder your damn father, and then shrug it off as a hunch and say ‘sorry’. How would you feel, princess?”
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avem--geminis-blog · 6 years
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@solitaryblade// (cont. from here)
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     A cheeky grin followed by a small fit of laughter escapes the girl’s lips, clutching her stomach without too much though to try and ease the slight ache of her abdominals from her laughter. She had always heard rumors about this Feroxi man apparently being afraid of women--or anything female, for that matter--, but to say she actually believed such rumors would be a bit of a lie. And so, naturally, Morgan, being as curious of a child as she is, set out to test it for herself. It seemed as though her scare-through-stealth tactic hadn’t exactly gone to plan, but seeing the male’s reaction to her mere presence made up for that ten-fold. He really is terrified--or, at least, his reaction and tone of voice would imply as much. The young tactician wonders why she hadn’t tried this earlier, and if he’d still be as scared now that he was fully aware of her presence. Perhaps, she could use her rather bright mind to conclude that Lon’qu would probably remain just as frightened of her...
     But her inner sadist finds testing the waters anyway too enticing.
   “Can I not what? I was only popping in to say hi!”
     And to test if he is actually deathly afraid of women or not, but Morgan decides to leave that detail out. Flashing the brunette an innocent smile, the pink-haired girl takes a few, somewhat cautious, steps forward, effectively killing the space the other had put between them earlier. Would he freak out once again, and further distance himself from her? Probably, although she supposes he may also just flee, in which case, she would find herself extremely enticed to give chase.
   “I know you know my father and mother well, but I don’t even think I’ve properly met you yet. I’m Morgan.”
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avem--geminis-blog · 6 years
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Inbox Call!
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((ooc. since I can’t be bothered to find the original post-
Please like this post if you’d like me to drop Morgan in your inbox! I only have a few threads going on at the moment, and I’d like some more to work with-
Also please feel free to message me if you’d like to plot something! I’m always open to ideas.
Multies please specify your muse! If you don’t, I’ll assume you don’t mind which muse I address. ))
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avem--geminis-blog · 6 years
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        【 There’s something between us all.                                 Something that keeps us together…】
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            Olivia ( @f-ortuity ) |  Naeva ( @i-nsubordination​ ) | Robin ( @i–gnis )     M!Morgan ( @valorandgold ) |  Inigo ( @svarmodiig ) | F!Morgan ( @little–amnesic ) 
                                                  and The Others
      Validar ( @d–evotio ) | Aversa ( @rp-aversa ) | Astarot ( @letsriddlemethislucifer )
        【 Like…invisible ties, connecting us.                                                             Giving us strength… 】
*art credit to gzeidraws
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avem--geminis-blog · 6 years
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   “Grandmother!”
     The pink-haired girl’s voice breaks whatever silence may have been lingering in the air prior to her entering the same room as the sage, her young features immediately lighting up upon merely seeing the back of her grandmother, appearing to be sitting and doing...something. Whatever it is, the fact that Morgan didn’t know what it is Naeva could be doing only sparked the girl’s natural curiosity more, quickening her pace so that she is at the woman’s side in less than a few moments after unintentionally announcing her presence. So, she places her hands on the table at the other sits at, brown eyes resembling the woman’s own and the girl’s father’s gazing over at the white-haired woman’s work, appearing confused and intrigued, judging by her expression. Is her dear grandmother making a book? That is what it looks like to Morgan, but what exactly the older female is making and why is another question that pops into her mind, nearly as soon as she had realized what the other was doing in the first place.
   “Grandmother, are you making a book? Or a tome? I didn’t know you knew how to do that! Ohh, you have to tell me what you’re making! What kind of tome is it? Can you show me how to do it? Oh, please, please!”
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     Pale hands move themselves in an almost rhythmic pattern, carefully but swiftly threading the pages and cover of a tome together– one whose cover appears to be quite yellow in colour, and bearing a symbol that perhaps a few, fortunate few might recognise. Binding books, creating tomes– it has always been one of the sage’s favourite ways to bide her time, and in this generous handful of peaceful moments, she finds herself resorting to the activity once more, unaware of those who happen to pass by.
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