#anyx rambles
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idiotic-problem · 1 year ago
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I see you hit postlimit
indeed i did indeed i did
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idiotic-problem · 1 year ago
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post limit blog for @angel-of-fallen-dreams !!
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friendofflowersandfrogs · 2 years ago
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people who want to tell their friends all about their random thoughts 🤝 the people who love to listen to their friend’s wacky ideas
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idiotic-problem · 1 year ago
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SCREAM . bitebitebitebitebitebitebitebitebited
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friendofflowersandfrogs · 2 years ago
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I am but a simple person. If someone admits they saw something and thought of me, or they were thinking of me in general, I will remember it and feel loved and happy for the rest of the week.
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idiotic-problem · 1 year ago
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btw did you know about this
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uhm no i cant say . that did . please tell me more
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friendofflowersandfrogs · 2 years ago
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To the people who make me feel safe to ramble to, and who listen with little heart eyes,
I love you so fucking much
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idiotic-problem · 10 months ago
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HELL YEAH I REMEMBERED MY PASSWORD
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faerykingdom · 2 years ago
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I posted 2,261 times in 2022
999 posts created (44%)
1,262 posts reblogged (56%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@magic-is-beauty
@angel-of-fallen-dreams
@fxlse-starboy
@clusterbuck
@swiftiediaz
I tagged 334 of my posts in 2022
#tw caps - 59 posts
#9-1-1 spoliers - 21 posts
#lovely anon - 17 posts
#🦔kenzi! - 16 posts
#anyx <3 - 14 posts
#1k justice league celebration - 14 posts
#🦊vee - 13 posts
#9 1 1 spoliers - 5 posts
#cia rambles - 5 posts
#oh my god - 5 posts
Longest Tag: 139 characters
#but he didn't want to believe it because he would have to choose between his father who he always wants to impress and his best friend/love
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
DAY THREE - L. EVANS & J. POTTER
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏𝟐���𝟔 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐛, 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠
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It’s been almost three weeks since you went into the clinic. Ever since you went to go see Dr. Evans, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. Her and her bright red hair, her beautiful green eyes that gazed down at you when you were coming, and her lips that had crashed down on you with such ferocity that you felt like you couldn’t breath.
It’s been three weeks since the sensations she caused plagued your body. It’s been three weeks since you felt so much pleasure, you’ve tried to recreate it, (no matter how dirty you felt afterwards) but you haven’t been able to feel like that again.
Frankly, you’re terrified. You don’t think what happened that day was okay, but it never felt so good.. nothing had ever felt that good.
You’ve been in a slump, to say the least. And that’s how you found yourself here, in a club of all places.
You’re friend felt it necessary that you branch out of your comfort zone. Ever since you went to the gynecologist they had been pushing you to do different things, in their own words, “You’ve already had a doctor see your hoo-ha, might as well finally pop the cherry!”
The entire conversation was downright filthy. Your friend do not have a filter, and they used really weird vocabulary which made the entire conversation worse.
B/F/N had dressed you up in clothes that would make your mother faint, and your father to lock you in a tower. You were wearing a tight-skinned black dress that showed off your body, and your hair was made you into a beautiful hair-do that you only do on rare or special occasions.
The music was so loud that you felt your eardrums were going to pop. People kept bumping into you, and one woman even practically shoved you out of her way. The lights are off, and certain light bulbs throughout the club flash on and off to go with the beat of the music.
Everyone is either high, drunk, or both. You’re head feels like it’s going to explode and all you want to do is go home, and watching some crappy movies. But B/F/N had declared that you weren’t going home until you at least got drunk off your ass, or get laid, whichever came first.
Neither of which seem to be happening any time soon.
“Alright babe,” B/F/N says, tossing their arm over your shoulder, they already halfway to drunk as all hell, and gestures over towards a woman sitting at the bar, staring at B/F/N, “I’m gonna go and talk to the pretty lady over there.” They spin to you, putting their hands on your shoulders and staring down at you seriously, “Now remember,” they wave a finger at you, “no leaving until you’re either drunk as fuck or losing your virginity, got it?” You nod hesitantly, knowing as soon as they turn away, you’re leaving. “Good,” they nod firmly, “go have fun and live a little.” With that, they’re turning away from you and going to the woman.
You sigh. Might as well finish the drink they paid for, even though it tastes like pee. You grimace as the whisky (or was it vodka?) hits the back of your throat.
“That’s not exactly how you’re supposed to drink that, love.”
You jump, a squeak escaping you as turn to look at the person who spoke. Your eyes were wide as you took in the man leaning against the bar. His hazel eyes stare down at you with amusement and something else, something like what Dr. Evans looked at you with. His lips were pulled up in a smirk, and his tongue flicked out to touch his bottom lip. His beautiful black hair was in a curly mess atop his head.
He was gorgeous.
“Like what you see, love?”
You jump again, immediately looking away from him as heat rushed to your cheeks. You fiddled with with the glass cup, needing something to do to combat your embarrassment. You take a drink of your drink (seriously, is it vodka or whiskey?) to try and keep from looking at him. You could feel his stare, his gaze burning through you.
You felt …. excited? There were butterflies in your stomach, and you couldn’t help but look at him out of the corner of your eye. He held a glass of something, and would occasionally sip at it while looking at you.
You clear your throat, trying to gain confidence before you talked to him. After a couple seconds, and another sip of your drink, you look over at him, “Can I help you?” you ask, raising an eyebrow slightly in order to appear intimidating.
He chuckles, “No, just enjoying the view.”
“Oh, god.”
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201 notes - Posted October 4, 2022
#4
WOULDN’T EVEN IF I COULD ━ J. FRASER
SYNOPSIS → in which it’s your wedding night
WORD COUNT → 721 words
WARNINGS → a bit of smut, but no actual smut marriage, and i think that’s it
AUTHORS NOTE → this was based off the gif below
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It was your wedding night. 
You were pacing the hotel room, your anxiety causing you to fiddle with your new wedding band.
You had left the after party about thirty minutes ago, bidding everyone a goodnight.
You knew that as soon as you left, the men had started to joke around, and thump your newly-made husband on the back.
Claire, your best friend, had tried her best to comfort you. She was the only one to loudly disagree. As soon as you were told that you would marry Jamie Fraser, she had argued. For the next couple days, she had been very forward with her view on the matter. 
You, on the other hand, hadn’t said a word. You didn't talk, you kept silent. Murtagh, and Dougal had tried to talk to you. You ignored them. 
The others had been silent. Jamie refused to even look at you. 
Had you forced him into this?
Did he have no choice?
If he didn’t want,this, why did he do it?
Did he really volunteer, or did Murtagh just tell you that to ease you?
Why did he marry you?
Your frantic thinking was forced in the back of you mind when you heard the door open behind you.
You froze, your body tensing slightly.
“Lass?” Jamie asked, his voice so soft that you almost didn’t hear. “Are ye alright”
“Why?” you whispered, keeping your back to him.
“Why what?”
“Why did you marry me, Jamie?”
You heard him walk towards you, his steps slightly hesitant. “Why do ye ask?”
You turn around face him. You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself, trying to keep some form of comfort for yourself. “Why would you marry me, if you didn’t want to? Did Dougal force you? D-Did I force you?”
Jamie froze, he stared at you, his blue eyes widened in shock. You stared at each other, you with tears in your eyes, and him in shock.
After what felt like years, Jamie stalked towards, with his long strides, he was able to reach you. Slowly, he kneeled down on his knees, his eyes staring up at you. 
“Aye, I didnae have much choice in the matter, but even if I had, I would still have married ye. Ye have my name, my clan, my family. And, if necessary, the protection of my body, as well.” 
You could hear your heart pounding as you stared down at him. The sight of your husband on his knees - for you - sent flutters in your stomach. 
He continued to stare up at you, as if waiting for you.
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216 notes - Posted January 17, 2022
#3
THE PAIN OF LOST ━ A. BRIDGERTON
SYNOPSIS → in which you lose the most precious thing before you had him
WORD COUNT → 2944 words
WARNINGS → STILLBORN (please be careful reading as this is a major part of this story! please do not read if this could trigger you! be careful!!), cheating, depression
AUTHORS NOTE → there are 800 of you now!! i feel like i say this every time, but i can’t believe there are so many of you following me! i did accidentally delete the ask that went with this, sorry about that!
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You couldn’t stop smiling. You were laying on your bed, fiddling with your fingers as you waited for your husband to come back from town. He had gone to the new bar that Mr. Mondrich had recently opened. You had waited until your husband had left to call for the doctor.
You had been feeling quite sick for the last few weeks, your mother-in-law, Violet Bridgerton, had been convinced that you needed to call for the doctor.
Now that you had, you couldn’t quite believe the news the man had given you. It was surprising to say the least. You hadn’t expected this so soon. Well, now that you think about it, your husband is a man of um, how do you say, determination. 
The sound of the main door opening snapped you out of your thoughts, your eyes immediately drawing to your bedroom, and waiting patiently for your husband to walk through. You only hope that he is not drunk. You do not think you can hold the news for an entire night. You really shouldn’t have let him go to a bar of all places.  
Then again, how were you supposed to know that this is the kind of news you would get?
“What are you still doing awake, my love?” your husband said gently while undressing. He walked over to you pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “You should be sleeping.”
“I could not sleep until I told you something.”
Anthony looks down at you, concern clearly in his eyes. “What is it?”
“Nothing to worry about, my love. It is good news!” Anthony simply raises his eyes impatiently; he has never been one for patience. “I am with child, Anthony.” Anthony stares at you, eyes wide and mouth open. It would be quite comical if you weren’t vibrating with nerves. “Say something please,” you whisper, watching your husband with fear in your eyes.  
You mess with the blanket that laid over you, nerves flittering around your stomach. Anthony had always said he wanted children, but if he did then why —
“Mmph!”  
Anthony’s lips came crashing down on you, his lips pressed harshly against yours, and pulled in a wide smile. He crawls onto the bed, pulling you against him tightly. He pulls away from you, his lips still spread in a wide smile. He frames your cheeks with his hands, “Oh, my love,” he whispers.  
“You’re happy?”
“Yes, of course, I am!” Anthony says, his voice quiet, so quiet you wouldn’t have heard him had you not been so close. “We are having a child.” Tears stream down your cheeks, chuckles leaving your lips, and your forehead falling against your husband’s.  
You don’t know how long the two of you sat there, just holding each other; laughing, and crying. Joy – and possibly a little bit of fear on your part – filling the both of you until you could hardly handle the feeling.  
“We’re having a baby,” you whisper. 
 THREE MONTHS LATER
You were sitting in the parlor. Your stomach was stretched with your growing baby. You were resting your hands atop your stomach, your fingers twisting and turning knitting your little one a beautiful blue blanket. The rest of the Bridgerton family was around you – except for Anthony, who was in his office looking over documents and payments -, talking and laughing.
Your sisters – Eloise, Hyacinth, Francesa, and Daphne – were all surrounding you. Daphne was holding her little girl, Amelia, in her arms, listening as her younger sister's chatter around you. Hyacinth is cuddled up to you, her arms reaching just a little above your waistline, barely able to stretch across your expanded stomach. Francesa sat across from you on the opposite couch, next to her mother. She was smiling, trying to goad you into making her the godmother of your little one (you most certainly were not drawing yourself into that discussion, there was much too much chances of the competitive sisters dissolving into an argument). Eloise held a book in her hand, Ms. Austen’s newly published book Mansfield Park; you could not tell whether she was listening to the conversations or if she was simply blocking it out.  
“Francesa, darling,” you start, looking up from your knitting, and letting a small indulging smile cross your face, “as much as I love you, I will not indulge in this conversation. You and your sisters are much too competitive and I do not wish to start a little trifle.”
“Yes, dearest,” Violet says, placing her hand gently atop Francesa’s hand, “let’s not get into this now.”
“Yes,” Francesa says, eyeing you from the corner of her eye, a little smirk on her face, “we would not wish to discuss such important topics without my dear brother present.”
You roll your eyes, “Oh, hush.”
“Y/N?” Hyacinth asks, looking up at you under her eyelashes.  
“Yes, dear?”
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237 notes - Posted April 22, 2022
#2
could you do poly marauders +lilly and marlene were they set out rules(?) for the reader please? if you don’t feel comfortable i’m sorry! thank you💞
BUTTERFLIES ━ L. EVANS, M. MCKINNON, R. LUPIN, S. BLACK, J. POTTER
SYNOPSIS → in which you like being their puppy
WORD COUNT → 857 words
WARNINGS → prequel to this, no smut in this, pet play
AUTHORS NOTE → i didn’t really know how to have them making the rules, so i just had them putting pet play into their relationship
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This all started with a simple head pat.  
You had been sitting in the library, reading one of your favorite books, The Secret Garden, when your recently made boyfriend – one of them at least –, James Potter, came stumbling beside you. He had placed his hand down on your head for a brief head pat. Your mind went blank, and your eyes widened as you stared at him. A flush of heat rush to your cheeks, and butterflies swarmed your belly.  
James hadn’t really noticed, of course. Instead, rambling about his quidditch practice. When Sirius – your second boyfriend -  had waltzed in after James, you forced the heat down and tried to act normal.  
Days had passed by, and everything was fine. James and Sirius either hadn’t noticed or didn’t think anything of it since they didn’t say anything. So, you went on as if it hadn’t happened.  
Over the next few weeks your boyfriend and girlfriends - Lily and Marlene -, continuously calling you ‘puppy’ and treating you like pet. Every time they did so, you felt weird. Like butterflies were constantly flying in your stomach. And, you enjoyed it. You enjoyed the pats, the nickname, and the treating as if you are an actual puppy.  
It was a couple months later when Remus – third and final boyfriend – had innocently called you a nickname that caused you to react the same way, “Puppy, can you come here, please?” The two of you are sitting alone in the boys’ dorm. You are sitting on James’ bed, reading over your Potions assignment, hunched over the papers, and trying to figure out the correct answer to the question. Remus is sitting on his own bed, his back against the head board, his quill and text book abandoned beside him.  
Your head pops up, and you stare at him with wide eyes. Heat courses up to your cheeks, your heart beat pounding in your ears, and your stomach swirling into knots. You continue to stare at him, arousal coursing through you.  
Remus raises an eyebrow at you, and his fingers curl in the “come hither” motion. Slowly, you stand up and walk over to him. You stop right in front of him, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Remus tests his hands on your hips and tugs you into his lap.
You grunt, dropping down on him, heat once again rushing up to your cheeks. “Remus!” You yelp, throwing your arms around his neck.  
Remus wraps on arm around your waist, and tugged your head down into the crook of his neck. He runs his fingers through your hair, pressing a simple kiss to your forehead. You were confused. It wasn’t the first time that Remus showed you affection, but this wasn’t usual. It was sudden. And confusing.
Very confusing.  
“Puppy,” Remus says, you jerk your head up to look at him, the name causing more flutters in your belly. “Wanna tell me why you’ve been actin’ weird the last few weeks?”
You scrunch your nose at him, still feeling confused. “What d’ya mean?” you ask.
He quirks his eyebrow at you, his grip on your waist tightening. “Come now, don’t play dumb. I know that something’s happen to cause you to act differently. Talk to me.”
“I-“
“And don’t lie.”
You shove your face into his neck, embarrassment coursing through you. You felt ridiculous, your reactions to simple acts of affection embarrassed you. Your boyfriends were just showing adoration for you, and you were overreacting. Honestly, you don’t react this way when call you other person names or did anything affectionate.  
Remus pinches your side, pulling you from your thoughts. “Come on, Puppy. Don’t make me punish you.”
“I,” you mumble, shoving your face depose in his neck, “Ilikeitwhenyoucallmepuppyanddtreatmelikeapet.”
Remus nudge you away from his neck, “Breathe, and try that again, please.”
You squirm, “I … like it when you call me puppy and treat me like a pet.”
“Told you!”
You jump, a shriek leaving your lips as your head jerks toward the doorway, seeing the rest of your significant others crowding the doorway. Marlene crawled onto the bed with you and practically yanks you into her arms. “You like being a puppy?” she asks, running her fingers through your hair. You nod, snuggling deeper into her embrace. “You owe me ten galleons, James!”
You scrunch your nose at her, “What could you possibly have a bet on?”
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286 notes - Posted June 22, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
FIRST TIME ━ L. EVANS
PART TWO
SYNOPSIS → you go to the gynecologist for the first time
WORD COUNT → 2353 words
PAIRING → lily evans/reader
WARNINGS→smut!, dubcon, innocent reader, dark fic, gynecologist!lily evans, sub!reader, oral sex, fingering, overstimulation
AUTHORS NOTE → so thank you for the 700 followers! that is so freaking exciting! thanks for putting up for my craziness! this is also my first really dark fic, so don’t like kill me or anything. 
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You sat in the waiting room, twisting your hands together anxiously. This would be the first time that you visited a gynecologist without your mother, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t scared. You had never come to these appointments by yourself. Your mother had always been there to hold your hand, and keep you from running out of the appointment. You couldn’t cancel this though, no matter how much you wanted to. You had found various reasons to cancel the last couple appointments. You were pretty sure that the receptionist held a grudge against you, not that you couldn’t blame her.
She looked very surprised when you actually walked into the office instead of calling her an hour before the appointment and said you couldn’t come. The only reason you hadn’t was because your best friend threatened to drag you in here by your ear if you didn’t actually see the doctor. You were very tempted to just say screw it, and cancel anyway, but your friend hadn’t left you by yourself at all today. Heck, she’s even waiting in the car for you.
“Ms. Y/L,” one of the nurses says, drawing your eyes up to her, “we’re ready for you.”
You exhaled a shaky breath and stood up on your quaking legs, your fingers still wringing together.
“I’ll be surprised if she didn’t run before she even got to the door,” the receptionist mutters snidely, clicking away at her keyboard noisily. You glanced at the woman, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. You looked down at your feet as you walked to the nurse holding the door open for you with a gentle smile.
“It’s alright, dear,” the nurse says soothingly, “no need to be scared. Dr. Evans is one of the best gynecologists in London.”
Okay, that made you feel slightly better. Not by much though.
You didn’t want to be here. You really just wanted to be home and wrap yourself up in your fluffy blanket and eat some ice cream. Maybe watch your favorite show, but you didn’t want to be here.
You shuffled behind the nurse, wrapping your arms around yourself acting like that is your armor. The nurse held open the door to an exam room, the smile still on her face. “Alright, dear, just get changed. Dr. Evans will be here shortly.”
You nodded, stepping into the room. Your heart lodged itself in your throat when you heard the door shut behind you. You looked down at the hospital gown that rested on the bed.
“Okay,” you whispered, “it’s fine. You’re fine. Nothing to worry about.”
Your shaking hand grabbed onto the gown, and changed as quickly as you could. The cold hit your barely covered body, causing your nipples to harden. You sat down on the edge of the bed stiffly, your back straight, legs crossed tightly, and your hands clenched into fists in your lap.
A sharp knock sounded against the door, your eyes snapping towards the door. “Come in,” you called stiffly, pinching your wrist sharply.
The door opened, and Dr. Evans walked in. The woman had long red hair, pulled back into a tight bun. She was dressed in a regular doctor's outfit, and a clipboard in her hands. She was looking down at the clipboard, a pencil tracing down the length of the paper clipped to it.
The woman looked up, and gently smiled at you. “Ms. Y/L, I see it’s your first time with us, correct?”
You clear your throat, eyes still down casted, “Uh, yes.”
“You’ve seen a gynecologist before, yes?”
“Yes, I used to go to my mothers before I moved to go to university.”
Dr. Evans smiled again, her smile held something that you couldn’t recognize, something that wasn’t there before, “Well, let’s go ahead and get started.”
“O-okay,” you stammer, fidgeting.
“Can you lay down for me?” Slowly, you scooted back and laid down, keep your legs firmly together, and fiddling with your fingers. Dr. Evans moved so she sat in the small chair in front of your legs. “Put your legs in the stirrups, please.”
You swallowed down a whimper, desperate to make it through this bloody appointment without freaking out. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice so quiet that you weren’t sure she heard you.
Slowly, you put your legs on the stirrup, keeping your eyes firmly above you, staring at the ceiling. The ceiling was plain, like most ceilings, you suppose. The room was plain, kind of reminding you of your room in your apartment before you had decorated it.
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1,236 notes - Posted March 28, 2022
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starwroughtchild · 6 years ago
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Her annoyance was palpable.
Snow crowned the black of her hair as his twin stared at him with gently pursed lips and the smallest of scowls but he wasn’t fooled. The rush of affection and relief that had come over her when she’d seen him not but minutes past was gone now and that scowl was no more than the cloud that promised a storm. Unlike himself Heliaux had never mastered the art of the mask, the passive gaze and the stillness of emotions. She was a sun creature, a woman of fire and heat and all things passionate. She showed how she felt and when she felt it and, watching her, Silene couldn’t help but admire and envy such a freedom now as he had countless times before. “Are you going to say anything?”
“You grew a beard.”
“Yes.”
“And cut your hair.”
“Apparently.”
“You actually look like a man now.” There was concern behind the scorching tone of her voice but it did little to lessen the burn. The letter that had reached her the day before himself was crushed as her hand curled into a fist around it.
“Heliaux--”
“Three. Years. Three years! You couldn’t have, oh, I don’t know- written before now? Visited. Come by Aetheryte, sent a raven, magicked me a Gods damned blood note to tell me you were alright?!”
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He withheld a sigh and leaned back against the stone banister behind him. Honestly it was best to let her get it all out. Her concerns and her angers were valid and really there was no talking to her when the sun in her flared like this. “I know.”
“Yes, you know. You know everything, don’t you Silene. Well did you know how worried I was about you? Did you know no one had any idea if you were still alive? Did you KNOW I’ve been wearing mourning black for TWO YEARS?!” 
Shame was not a strong enough word. “...no.”
“I’m SHOCKED. REALLY.”
“Heliaux-”
“Who would have thought.”
“Heliaux-”
“NO! You let me rage, Silene Charbonneau! Gods dammit I deserve it!” He couldn’t argue with that. “Our mother..my husband, -your- brother, my -kids!-. My kids, Silene! When they asked me ‘what happened to Uncle Silene’ I couldn’t tell them. ‘Oh don’t worry Luna I’m sure Uncle Silene hasn’t been eaten by a dragon or died in a DITCH! “
“I wasn’t -dead-, Heliaux.”
“I didn’t know that!” 
“And I did come back once or twice! On business.”
“Oh, BUSINESS! Thanks for dropping in while you were here. Anything! I would have accepted anything to have seen you again even if it meant visiting our father!”
“I would never have asked you to do that.”
“But you never asked me anything! Never told me anything!”
"..what do you want to know.”
“The truth! Do you really think writing me a letter is going to cut it?” She raised the hand curled around the crushed yellow parchment. “I know you! I know there’s more to the past three years than ‘I was busy’. I’m your sister, Silene! I’m your twin! I know you better than anyone! I’VE WORN BLACK FOR YOU FOR TWO YEARS!”
“You hate black.”
“I HATE BLACK!”
She wasn’t and had never been the type of woman to cry easily, and yet the gold of her eyes was too bright, too wet and full of anger to dismiss the possibility of tears. She waited as he considered what to share with her and what to hold back, what truths to admit and lies to create to keep her safe. “...dragons.” The word came from him before he could stop and consider the consequences. 
“....do I get any CONTEXT or-”
“I was with...the dragons. In Dravania.”
“...Were you -trying- to get burned as a heretic?!”
“You ASKED!” He looked nervously around the Crozier and, save for the heads of two Hyur that had turned to look at his outburst, had not drawn any more attention. “After the War ended I...I left. I didn’t tell anyone, I didn’t want to tell anyone because-”
“Because if you had..” He didn’t need to finish the sentence. Everyone that lived in Ishgard knew the power of the Fury, the zealotry of the Inquisitors and the location of the Witch Drop. “But...why? The war was over!”
“The war was over in Ishgard... but not with me.”
“Fury save me from your poetic martyred soul, Silene.”
“LISTEN!” The bite in his voice was enough to draw her full and surprised attention to him at last. Silene never raised his voice. Never. “I know what Ser Aymeric and the Warrior of Light told us, but if you know me like you claim you know me you’d know I wasn’t satisfied with the answers! There were too many unanswered questions left, too many truths unsaid. A war that had been lasting for a thousand  years, suddenly over in a span of weeks? Dragons that were once our enemies suddenly appearing in the city to save lives instead of taking them? Why? How? Did they expect everyone to stay content and take the word of three people? So I left! I left to find out for myself the how and why!”
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Her scowl was deeper now, her brows knit. Her silence was her acquiescence to the plea she could hear in his voice as he talked. Arms crossed she leaned back against the stone banister behind her, golden eyes fixed expectantly on her twin.
“I found my answers. Too many of them! Everything we were taught..everything we’ve ever known about the Dragonsong war was a lie. Who started it and why, about the Dravanian Horde and Shiva and....and everything! I’ve been there, Heliaux. Anyx Trine. I’ve seen the stones myself, I’ve learned the history from dragon song with my own ears and gazed upon the old Ishgardian colonies in the dragon lands with my own eyes. Sohm Ahl. Shor Kai. Zenith..I’ve been there. I’ve seen them. A thousand years of truth and lies written in stone and the dragons, Heliaux...I’ve talked to them. Yes!” He could understand the shocked expression of her face even if she looked at him like she would a rambling madman. “Did you know when they talk...they sing? And it’s beautiful.”
He turned from her and began to pace in low and slow strides, his eyes downcast to the ground and his hands gesturing at thin air. He was full of a nervous, excited yet angry energy she rarely ever saw in her usually still and serene sibling.
“I couldn’t come back and tell you this. Sending you a letter? Impossible. Even standing here now years later it is dangerous for me to be telling you this. I wanted to tell you, I did, but..” He looked at her, read her as she was surely reading him: in the stiffness of her body, the tightness of her arms, the bright intensity of her stare. She had wanted to truth. He would give it to her. “I didn’t want to share it with anyone. Not mother. Not Jacques. Not you. Even if I had died I would have done so on my own terms, from my own mistakes and inexperience. I wasn’t under anyones shadow, anyones thrall but my own. And you...you don’t know. You can’t possibly know..how that feels for me. You had as much trauma from our father as anyone but I...I was my fathers creature. You got out. You got out and...and I was still trapped.”
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It was her turn to turn her gaze from him, her turn for her cheeks to darken in shame. Words unsaid, a conversation unspoken nevertheless moved between them and settled down with a heavy weight.
He moved to her side then, his hand gently enclosing one of hers that was just as pale. “I needed my own life, Heliaux. I needed to get out. To make mistakes. To eat spicy foods and sweat in a deserts heat. To wear something other than wool. To see things that were more than shadows and knives in the dark. I needed to meet people, to make real friends and develop real feelings. To be confused by those feelings. To walk in a forest with sunlight on my skin. To sleep under starlight. And I needed to have that, all of that without you, just as you had your family without me.”
There were very few people he allowed to touch him and two were far away from Ishgard. The Lady lit from sunlight was in the green shade of the forests in Gridania and Suna was in a sun baked Kugane with the troupe that was his family. The other was here and it was she that leaned against him, hand clenching his so tightly it hurt. “I will not apologize for getting out of that house..from our family. From that man.”
“I know.”
“And...I’m sorry for what he put you through both because of me and not. I would take it back if I could but Silene, you have always had a place in my family. You stayed away from me.” She looked at him, her expression fierce and unforgiving. “I’m your sister. I love you. I would kill for you. So I’ll be your support, mon frère, but you have to let me. You have to let me and others in...like you used to.”
He gazed at her a while, she who was so like him and yet not. Slowly he leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead and a squeeze to her hand. "I missed you. Ma coeur du soleil.”
"Mon frère de lune. How long are you staying in Ishgard?”
"As long as you want me to.”
“Good. You owe me three years worth of a story.”
He followed her as she turned and made her way towards the steps leading into the Foundation. “That’s a long story.”
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She turned to smile at him, lamplight playing on the same ash gray highlights in her hair that was in his own. “Probably, but I bet it’s a good one.”
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@varae-ver-you-are and @ladyrivienne for mentions
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autumnslance · 6 years ago
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meraki: to do something with soul, creativity, or love; to put something of yourself into your work.
((Thank you for the ask, and sorry for the long wait! I had an idea that went nowhere, and then this spilled out far too late at night. I apparently have dragoons on the brain at the moment.))
Now on Ao3
Mireille laughed as the wind whistled past her ears, nothing but clear blue sky and fluffy white clouds as far as she could see, as she rose and rose and rose…
…Until gravity reasserted its claim, as she reached the apex of her leap. Then began the even swifter descent, the wind screaming now. She twisted, the ground hundreds of yalms below, the trees like toys but growing ever closer.
Still she did not stop laughing.
“Mireille!” A familiar voice called. A blur of deeper blue cut across the sky, and with a whump she landed on the broad belly of Blen Esk. He was almost too hot to the touch, and growling as he grasped her in his claws to help her shift to his back. “Reckless,” he exclaimed in his native tongue.
“Fun,” she countered, finding her seat once more. “If we practice, I could land safely upon your back after such a dive.”
“You cannot fly, child,” he said, switching to the elezen’s speech. “I am here to aid you; allow me to be your wings.”
“But that’s just it; I would need a much longer–and more unwieldy–spear to fight effectively from your back. But if I can leap to our enemies, manipulating my aether just enough to stay aloft until you catch me, there’s much more that we could do.”
“And you think it fun,” he growled.
“Well it is,” Mireille laughed. She fell back, laying across the dragon’s spine. Above them, the sky was an endless dome of azure. She wanted to dive into it once again, but even Blen’s considerable patience had its limits. “We and the others have been tasked with learning to work together, but treating you like a common mount to ride into battle strikes me as indecent. We are partners in this endeavor, are we not?”
The dragon rumbled as he thought. They drifted along a current that wend its way through the mountains, covering malms in moments.
Mireille felt him shiver and toss his head, and she grinned, knowing before he spoke again that she had already won him over. “Very well, young knight,” he said. “We shall practice your leaping, and my catching you, until we do not even need to see to know each other’s position.”
“You’re almost sounding poetic, old man.”
“Hrmph. I fear you shall fling yourself into the firmament regardless. This way we shall have to agree upon conditions and safety measures.”
Mireille laughed once more. “All right, all right. Shall we get started, then? I want to have something impressive to show the others, when we return from this patrol.”
Blen Esk sighed heavily as she began to lay out her ideas, talking almost too quickly to keep up. Still, he listened–and had to admit, if only to himself, that her enthusiasm was infectious.
This could work, he thought. This could change everything.
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Scars covered his blue scales, and he felt heavy as he walked along the crumbling wall to find a good spot to soak up the sun. It had been so much colder since the smaller moon fell so recently; it made his bones ache.
Blen Esk wondered if perhaps it would soon be time for him to seek a place in the caverns of Mourn and drift off to sleep.
There was a stir in the ruined courtyard below. Blen lifted his head to see what was the matter now; it seemed there had not been a moment’s peace since young Ysayle had brought the Warrior of Light and the Azure Dragoon through Anyx Trine. Had they returned yet again?
Had they even left? It was so difficult to keep track of mortals and their limited time.
Below, Vedrfolnir’s little troublemaker of a son was flitting about, speaking quickly and with far too many words to Vidofnir, who listened patiently. Between them, Mireille stood, trying to keep her military bearing but obviously nervous–
Blen looked again. That could not be right. Mireille was dead these twelve hundred years, and the girl in the courtyard did not bear even a passing physical resemblance to that knight of eld.
And yet…
Blen stretched and leapt off the wall to the courtyard.
“…And so that is why I want to offer Heustienne a place here,” Orn Khai was saying, barely any breath left in his tiny frame as his rambling finally came to an end.
Vidofnir was eying her nephew and the woman beside him, though her gaze turned toward Blen as he landed on the stones nearby. The woman–Heustienne, apparently–jumped, her hands instinctively reaching for her spear before she stopped herself, eyes wide and stance shifting as she looked between Vidofnir and Blen.
“Blen Esk; is there something you need?” Vidofnir said, continuing in the mortal tongue for their guest’s benefit.
He studied the lance she wore. “A knight dragoon of Ishgard?” He addressed the girl directly.
She hesitated, then clenched her fists and looked up, expression defiant. “Yes, despite–despite everything. They think I’m dead, but I would still serve them, against those who will not let go of the war–”  She stopped, clutching her chest as the draconic aether in her roared, demanding to be released in fang and claw and wing.
Orn Khai fluttered around her nervously. “Easy, my friend,” he crooned. “Blen Esk means no harm. I think.” He peered at his elder. “She was made to drink Graoully’s blood,” Orn Khai explained.
Blen scoffed; he had oft fought Graoully, and had not mourned the news of his death. “If you are a knight, you have a crystal,” Blen said.
Heustienne glowered up at him. “You want proof that I am a dragoon? I, who was second to the Azure Dragoon?”
“I care not for your rank,” Blen replied. “I only ask that you humor an old fool.”
Heustienne almost seemed to fold in on herself for a moment, but then straightened again, holding out her gloved hand. Nestled in her palm was a tiny, brilliant blue soul crystal.
In the wind that whispered through the ruins of the Trine, Blen heard the echo of long-ago laughter.
He turned to Vidofnir, who was studying him, patiently waiting. “Let her stay. Let him help her,” Blen said in dragonspeak. Vidofnir nodded once. Blen turned back to the girl, and spoke again in the tongue of men.
“Souls do not allow themselves to be used by just anyone. There must be a resonance. Your strength and will are your own–but you are not alone in your struggle. You carry your forebears with you. There is more than how to wield a lance they can aid you with.”
Blen pushed off the ground, his flapping wings almost blowing both small Orn Khai and the girl tail over snout. He reached the top of the wall and continued above and past it, toward the fields stretching south into the Wastes; he suddenly felt like hunting.
Perhaps the girl would regain her control. Perhaps she would rediscover the joy of leaping through the air, trusting there would be wings to catch her. Perhaps, even, Mireille’s soul would remind her descendent how to laugh as Heustienne practiced her craft to defend her people and dragons both.
He would like to see that, he thought.
Perhaps Blen Esk was not quite ready for Mourn yet after all.
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idiotic-problem · 1 year ago
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BYEEE GUYS GOING BACK TO @angel-of-fallen-dreams
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thesilverdragoon · 6 years ago
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Character Interview: Ves
Tagged by @quills-and-curiosities​ Tagging: anybody!
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“I suppose I can sit down for a few minutes. You seem awfully intrusive and I can’t tell if it’s from boredom or genuine curiosity.
Honestly that makes me kind of afraid.”
— what did you have for breakfast?
"You’re automatically assuming that I remember half the things I eat at any given time. That’s bold of you. Considering how much I HAVE eaten and usually CAN eat.”
— what can you cook perfectly?
"Trouble.” Ves says as he gives a very cheeky grin to that.
— if you could choose a pet, what what would it be?
"I’m not someone who’d want to keep pets. If I had a choice anyway. If I didn’t- well, then I’d have to say Critine so far has been one of the more, erm...” The knight pauses and thinks about it. “Interesting ones.”
— how is your relationship with your parents?
Ves frowns. “I’m not speaking about this. Next question.”
— what is your favorite read?
He starts turning red. “Next question.”
— do you put both socks on first, or one sock, one shoe?
"Why would you put one sock on and then one boot. Why not just do both socks and then both boots? It’s much faster that way. I don’t think I’ve even met someone who does them one at a time-” Ves begins to trail off, rambling.
— do you fold your clothes before bed?
"No. I usually sleep in them more often than not.”
— how do you feel about marriage?
Ves sighs and crosses his arms, and his legs as he leans back in his chair. “I’ve always wanted to be married, ever since I was a boy. It just seemed nice, after reading all those story books. Though, of course, I know now that committing yourself on that level is a lot more than a fairy tale romance.
I lead a very...chaotic life. I can see how that wouldn’t be very attractive to most level-headed people out there. Among other things.
Elsewise it’s not something I NEED, I suppose. But... it does get lonely, sometimes.”
— who was the last person you crushed on?
Again the knight goes red and breaks eye contact, electing to look elsewhere. “...We’ve only really met ONE time. I don’t think I’m at liberty to say quite yet if it’s like -that-.”
— what does your dream home look like? and where would it be?
"Dream home?” Ves ponders the question. “I’m not sure. I’ve never envisioned myself owning property, or a house. I lived in the barracks with many others. That was home enough.
Though, I suppose if I had to elaborate a little more... Home would be where I’m welcome.”
— what’s your worst habit?
Ves looks down at the floor, arms still crossed, hat brim covering his eyes, before mumbling, “Not listening...”
— what do you do for living and how do you feel about your job?
"Right now? Nothing. I don’t have a job. It’s difficult enough just surviving out in the middle of nowhere.
Well, all right, that’s not entirely true. The dragons of Anyx Trine have always let me stay with them. They don’t seem to mind, though, they’re not exactly thrilled either.”
Ves rolls his eyes, sitting up straighter. “I’m not sure if that covered everything you ever wanted to know. I’m afraid I’m not terribly interesting. But...we can’t all be young, dashing heroes who’ve slayed legions in a weekend.”
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farendaire · 8 years ago
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Farendaire Profiles
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B A S I C S
Name : Viscount Aronaux Garion de Farendaire
Nicknames/Aliases : Ao, Aro, Lord Farendaire
Age : 25
Nameday : 18th Sun of the 5th Astral Moon
Species : Ishgardian Elezen
Gender : Male
Nationality : Ishgardian
Guardian : Halone, the Fury
Orientation : Homosexual
Profession : Peer of the House of Lords | Knight of House Fortemps
Prowess : Knight
P H Y S I C A L   A S P E C T S
Hair :  Jet black
Eyes : Deep blue
Skin : Pale and freckled
Tattoos/scars :  Lengthy, if shallow scar crossing face from right forehead to lower left cheek
F A M I L Y
Siblings :
Judielle Farendaire - priestess of the Ishgardian Orthodox Church and twin sister
Parents :
The Late Viscount Garion de Farendaire - As much a valiant protector of Ishgard as an honorable and just ruler of his subjects, Garion was slain during the Dragonsong War defending Castle Farendaire from Dravanian incursion.  He has always been and remains Aronaux’s greatest inspiration both in his great martial ability and - though Aronaux often falls short of the ideal - his fairness, sense of duty, and unusually egalitarian views for his time.
Dowager Viscountess Celine de Farendaire neé Embrelle  - Once considered but the pampered and imperious daughter of Baron Embrelle in her childhood, the loss of her husband to dragonfire convinced Celine to steel her heart, becoming infamous in Ishgardian social circles for for her cold and calculating nature - which Celine has always maintained she adopted only to protect her children, who she loves dearly despite her failure in their childhood to love them warmly.  She is a skilled spymaster, and has her eyes and ears placed in several strategically placed positions throughout the great institutions of Ishgard and rival houses. 
Family :
House Embrelle - Celine’s maiden family, these couched nobility accustomed to life in Ishgard long before Aronaux stepped foot in the city twenty years ago boasts an unusually high degree of wealth and has birthed many great bankers, merchants, and trendsetters.
Pets :
In a handful of diplomatic missions to Anyx Trine, Aronaux has accidentally befriended a young dragon whelp named Amimir.
S K I L L S
Abilities :
Archery - Aronaux is an excellent marksman, contrasting himself from knights more comfortable with a sword and shield in their hands; he considers himself to be Ishgard’s greatest, and though the nation’s militant nature has produced several other prominent archer Aronaux is regarded by many as at least one of the greatest.
Public Speaking - Aronaux is a publicly charismatic man despite difficulties in private relationships, and the viscount is an eloquent speaker within the House of Lords and on his visits to Ishgard’s allies such as Anyx Trine.
Hobbies :
Historical Research - An avid historian, Aronaux has written and published several treatises and essays on such subjects as the civilizations of the Fifth Astral Era, the Autumn War, and recently proto-Ishgardian society.
Tournament - Ever seeking to prove his honor and skill in warfare, Aronaux often participates in marksmanship and blade tourneys.
T R A I T S
Most Positive Trait - Duty
A true knight both off and on the battlefield, Aronaux takes his obligations seriously, and treats his work in administrative roles and in the House of Lords as of utmost importance.
Worst Negative Trait – Bigotry
Though Aronaux has cast aside the worst excesses of his xenophobia, racism, and classism of yesteryear, many cycles must pass until he has shed the prejudices instilled by the old Church’s doctrinal lies and typical elezen chauvinism.
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B A S I C S
Name : Mother Judielle Reinette de Farendaire
Nicknames/Aliases : Jude, Judy, Lady Autumn
Age : 25
Nameday : 18th Sun of the 5th Astral Moon
Species : Ishgardian Elezen
Gender : Female
Nationality : Ishgardian
Guardian : Halone, the Fury
Orientation : Heterosexual
Profession : Priestess
Prowess : Conjurer
P H Y S I C A L   A S P E C T S
Hair :  Jet black
Eyes : Deep blue
Skin : Pale and freckled
Tattoos/scars :  Image of the Three Spears of the Fury on the back of her right shoulder
F A M I L Y
Siblings :
Viscount Aronaux de Farendaire - Peer of the House of Lords and twin brother
Parents :
The Late Viscount Garion de Farendaire - As much a valiant protector of Ishgard as an honorable and just ruler of his subjects, Garion was slain during the Dragonsong War defending Castle Farendaire from Dravanian incursion. 
Dowager Viscountess Celine de Farendaire neé Embrelle  - Once considered but the pampered and imperious daughter of Baron Embrelle in her childhood, the loss of her husband to dragonfire convinced Celine to steel her heart, becoming infamous in Ishgardian social circles for for her cold and calculating nature - which Celine has always maintained she adopted only to protect her children, who she loves dearly despite her failure in their childhood to love them warmly.  She is a skilled spymaster, and has her eyes and ears placed in several strategically placed positions throughout the great institutions of Ishgard and rival houses. 
In her personal struggles Celine turned to wine, and her burgeoning alcoholism prompted Judielle to swear off drink several years ago.
Family :
House Embrelle - Celine’s maiden family, these couched nobility accustomed to life in Ishgard long before Judielle stepped foot in the city twenty years ago boasts an unusually high degree of wealth and has birthed many great bankers, merchants, and trendsetters.
Pets :
After several memorable adventures in Coerthas, Judielle was fortunate enough to gain the trust of a lone unicorn, which she has named Reinette after her patron saint.
S K I L L S
Abilities :
Magic - Trained in the magical arts of conjury and thaumaturgy through her studies of the Enchiridion at Saint Endalim’s Scholasticate, Judielle is a worthy mage in both fields but stands out as a healer.
Song - Judielle is a naturally gifted singer, and her beautiful voice has been noted both in the gardens of the Pillars and during services in various chapels throughout Ishgard.
Hobbies :
Prayer - A deeply religious woman with strong convictions of Halone’s mercy, Judielle prays to her goddess often despite being considered by others as an unusually leftist clergywoman.
Rambling - In the little free time Judielle allows herself not to worry about the needs of others, she frequently enjoys venturing out from the Gates of Judgement and roaming the countrysides and forests outside Ishgard, Gridania, and Limsa Lominsa.
T R A I T S
Most Positive Traits - Mercy and Charity
Claiming Saint Reinette as her example, Judielle has spent many years devoting her life to the well-being of the worst-off in Ishgard, doing as her patron would have her do. 
Worst Negative Trait – Indecision
Judielle has many problems with making decisions and sticking with them without second-guessing, leading others to sometimes observe that she seems to be tearing herself apart in all directions.
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idiotic-problem · 1 year ago
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manually spam rebloging is exhausting
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idiotic-problem · 1 year ago
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top five mcr songs :]
well um . you see . well . uh. only five you say?
na na na (na na na na na na na na na), mama, teenagers, famous last words, the light behind your eyes (not in this order)
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