ooc: Hey guys! So I noticed there was a month long gap in between my latest post and the one before it. The thing is, I didn’t even know it was that long. I thought it was a week at most. Time is moving very fast for me right now! I have a feeling that is going to happen a lot in the next six-seven months. I already made a post about this I think two times already, but that was in the beginning of the summer. I thought I’d explain again really quick!
This year is my senior year at college, and since the beginning of Junior year until this upcoming March, I’m going to be working very intensely on my thesis project- for me, it’s a short 3D animated film! It’s going to be taking up pretty much my entire life until it’s done. So please understand that I won’t be able to update the blog as much as I would like to! (I have a thesis blog that I’ll be updating more now that the semester has began. Follow for cool 3D things and film progress updates!)
I finally got that deaged arc finished up so I can make more quick posts and hopefully some holiday posts, but posts might come far and few in between and I’m so sorry about that!
So there ya have it!
Not deleting, not an official hiatus, just…. slow updates!
Victoire and Teddy’s son was born seven months after their wedding, and Molly and Arthur’s very first great grandchild. Between that and the fact that it had been over a decade since there had been a baby in the family, Nathanael Remus was a major hit. Victoire often worried her baby would never learn to walk, since there was always someone on hand to hold him.
me: boy you’d better be paying a PRINCELY SUM to take up space on my shelf for the next seven fucking months you know i’ve got FIVE new titles about obscure historical aeroplanes that COULD go here but NO
If you were being honest with yourself, you may sort of kind of take stubbornness to the next level. So after dating Luke for seven months, you sure as hell weren’t going to be the first one to say those three words. But you were beginning to get impatient with him because he seemed to be completely oblivious to what you wanted him to tell you any time you dropped a hint. When he finally sprung it upon you via phone, you were fuming. “Don’t you wanna say it back, babe?” he chuckled nervously after a long moment of silence on your end. “Nope,” you curtly replied. “Don’t say that to me unless I can see your face.” Of course he hung up and called you on FaceTime immediately to which you angrily ignored. You know what I meant, smartass, you texted him. No less than ten minutes later, there was a knock at your door that was nearly drowned out by the downpour of rain outside. Your fuzzy slippers dragged across the floor as you begrudgingly made your way over to open the door. There Luke was, his hair dripping rain onto the contours of his face, droplets hanging off his long eyelashes and one drop in particular hanging precariously onto the tip of his nose. He stood there silently and pulled out his phone right before you felt yours vibrate in your pocket. Luke’s name flashed across the top of your screen and you tapped the green button before lifting your phone to your ear. “I love you,” he said softly from his spot at your doorstep, the words echoing directly from your phone as well. You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t fight the smile curling up the corners of your lips. With a firm yank on his sweatshirt sleeve, his feet stumbled through the door and his cold lips met your warm ones. “I love you, too, smartass.”
Seven months after the end of the world that did not happen, Chrom was doing alright, or so he kept telling Lissa every time she asked. Their sister may have been returned to them, but she was in no state to rule. He would have liked to return her crown to her but it would be cruel and selfish to do so to a woman who had wished for calm and quiet all her life. Had she not sacrificed enough? The war had taught him many things, like how to lead an army and when to ask for help, but most importantly to do what must be done. And so, with a heavy heart, he finally conceded to his council and accepted the crown and title of Exalt of Ylisse.
The coronation ceremony was beautiful, and while he wasn’t very fond of being the center of attention, he was honored by the presence of all remaining shepherds, who had traveled far and wide to be by his side on the day the crown was placed on his head.
That is, all accept Robin. The crown meant for his queen remained on its cushion, and the throne next to his stayed empty. Lucina stood on his left, her hand on his shoulder and unwavering support, but Robin’s rightful place on his right echoed louder than any applause.
But that was six months ago. More than half a year had passed without Robin, and as much as it scared him, Chrom was getting used to waking up in bed alone. She had promised she would return, but with every passing day he found himself believing in it a little bit less. Death was eternal, and Naga had been silent lately. As much as he ached to see her smile just one last time, he had a kingdom to rule and a daughter to raise: there was very little time to mourn, and perhaps that was for the best.
He was not alone. Every morning Frederick would appear besides his bed, already dressed to impress and updating him on today’s agenda. Sometimes, when he thought he could get away with it, he even made his bed while Chrom was dressing himself. Frederick was no mere valet, but caring for the Royal family was in his blood. In return for his satisfied smile, Chrom was willing to close an eye from time to time and allow Frederick to perform one of his old duties.
But not all remained the same. While Frederick was the first face he saw every morning, he no longer stood by his side at any moment. After the war, Chrom had made him accept a position on his small council. He had initially refused, claiming himself inferior to the task, but when Chrom had enlisted Sumia, he eventually agreed. Several months down the road Chrom could only conclude that he had done the right thing: Frederick’s many years of experience in dealing with international and military affairs as a knight reflected in his wary but often much needed questions. Not a single policy could pass without amply scrutiny, and it was most often for the best.
And, as Sumia told him often during their monthly shared lunch, his new position was a lot less demanding, which left him with time to spare to care for her and their newborn daughter, while Sumia set up her pegasus riding academy. It was hard work, but from the healthy tan on her face and the smile on her lips, he could tell that peace had been treating him well.
He got up every morning in his lonely bed for people like them. If he honored his sister’s ideals and created a long lasting peace for their children to enjoy, then the tiredness that seemed to never go away again was well worth it.
A though day of many delicate nobles to please and finances to juggle was instantly made good when he would sneak into little Lucy’s bedroom to find her two older siblings napping in chairs beside her crib, a book full of stories still in Lucina’s hands. He didn’t know how much longer they would stay with him. Lucina was getting more anxious with every passing day, the wanderlust that she had inherited from him making her hands itch for adventure. He hoped that before she left, she at least would stop to say goodbye to them, but he had a fleeting feeling that she would be with them for at least a while longer. They both shared a concern for Morgan, whose smile became a little more strained with every passing month without their mother. And at night, or so Lucina confided in him one quiet afternoon, he cried out words in a language she did not know. Was it his memory, finally returning? Or merely memories of the war, as seen by a boy who was far too young to have fought in it. Whatever the case, Morgan would deny and deflect every inquiry, preferring perhaps to suffer in silence.
Still, they shared breakfast with him whenever possible, with matching bags beneath their eyes. Perhaps this was not true happiness, with that aching Robin sized hole in his heart, but it sure was the next best thing.
Until one day it wasn’t. He’d woken up with from a dream he couldn’t remember with a strange feeling of longing, long before even Frederick would be there to wake him up. And yet, he had found him, in full plate armor, dozing in front of his door. After ensuring that this was not a regular occurrence, they both concluded that they were hit with the same sudden restlessness. Chrom would have shrugged it off and invited Frederick for an early morning spar between two friends, until Lissa approached them. She had given birth less than two months ago, and not all of the fat had faded yet. But in that moment, wearing an old yellow dress that she liked to wear during her childhood, it was almost as if they were five years back in time, long before all went to hell.
A strange dream, a siren’s call, she named as her reason to dress as such in the early morning for no other reason. The gods worked in mysterious ways, Emmeryn used to say when he was young, but Naga was no god and Grima was dead. So who else but Robin could be pulling these strings?
He doubled back inside to grasp Falchion and without another word lead his sister and oldest friend into the darkness of the early morning to a meadow they all knew too well. While they rode, too tense to speak a word of what they all thought, too afraid that if perhaps acknowledged their folly with a single sound it would disappear in front of their eyes. It would be too convenient for Robin to just reappear where she had first been found, five years ago.
And yet, Chrom thought to himself, too afraid to form the words even in his mind. He had sided with little girls who could turn into dragons, aided by a daughter and a son who hailed from a lost future, and succeeded in striking down the closest thing this world had to a god. Stranger things had happened here, and how much stranger would it be for history to repeat itself, one last time?
In the end, Robin was not in the meadow, carelessly napping on the ground. They stood there, lost and feeling a little bit silly, a hint of tears burning in their eyes. Frederick’s hand on his shoulder kept him from falling down to the ground, either laughing or crying, he did not know which one. Was this what madness was like?
They stayed there for another few minutes, perhaps hoping for a miracle. But those who had been called gods before hadn’t spoken a word in months, and something told Chrom that he should get used a life without divine interventions. He had saved the world, his story had come to a close. All that remained were the twilight days were her ruled the legacy his friends had fought and died for, entrusted in his hands.
Chrom steeled his mind, exhaled a very heavy breath, and turned around, ready to return to real life. With Lissa and Frederick at his side, he was at least not lonely. Tomorrow, Morgan and Lucina would have breakfast with him again, and he would not tell them of this little folly of theirs, ready to bury this morning with the past.
That was, until a soft cry caught his ears. It was faint, not so much a scream but rather a whine. For a second Chrom thought it was a trick of the wind, or his memory of little Lucy and all he owed her manifesting on this strange morning. But then he heard it again, louder this time, and this time he was not alone. Frederick shot him a wary look, and Lissa’s eyes instinctively moved to her empty stomach, where little Odin had resided until not too long ago.
They stood so very still for a moment, looking at each other in tense wonder – Could it be? Then they heard the sound again, even louder, joined by another cry. The sun peaked over the horizon, bathing the earth into a gentle light and allowing Chrom to detect a small movement in the grass, not too far from where they were standing. His legs carried him there before he could stop himself. And all he could think of was her name, forever echoing in his mind like a desperate prayer.
It wasn’t Robin, but it was her cloak. Chrom fell to his knees next to it, carefully unwrapping the sacred garment from the precious cargo it protected. The day was may the twenty-seventh of may, and never in his entire life had Chrom expected to receive two crying babies wrapped in his wife’s old cloak as a birthday gift, both as naked as the day they were born.
Chrom knew they were his before he could even spot the brand of the Exalt, proudly portrayed on both of their tiny little fists. A girl and a boy, both slightly aggravated at being woken, but with Robin’s cute nose and his blue shock of hair. Lissa let out a shriek behind him, and without looking Chrom knew that Frederick was shocked to silence.
With care he cradled the two tiny bodies against his own, covering them with their mother’s cape while Lissa stammered words of disbelief and wonder. He praised Naga, and all that game before her. And above all, he thanked Robin, from the bottom of his heart, tears rolling down his face in spades but a smile on his lips larger than any had been since she’d been gone.
Lets meet again, in a better life. Those had been her words, and Chrom heard them every night when he closed his eyes, seeing her fade away and out of his life once again. Sometimes he thought he would never see those eyes he had fallen in love with again, but here he was, early in the morning with twins pressed against his chest, when the boy opened his eyes. It was Robin staring back at him, only this time less jaded. Chrom pressed a gentle kiss against his tiny brow, and when his sister whined, he gave her one as well, vowing carefully that neither of them would grow up like their parents had.
Lissa was laughing and crying along with him, and even Frederick was muttering words of thanks to the gods, who never answered. It did not matter, he thought, and ordered Frederick to saddle up their horses again, refusing to hand over either of his children. He had wondered what would happen to Morgan now that he would perhaps never be born in this world, but he should have known that Robin’s love for him was stronger than any force of nature, even death. Had they not speculated that perhaps she was in some early stadium of pregnancy when Grima claimed her life?
He looked at the grass where he had found her one last time, with his heart in his throat but a smile on his face, before turning around and returning to Ylisstol. For no more than a split second he swore he spotted in the corner of his eyes a lone figure standing at a distance, quietly regarding them in long white robes billowing in the wind. But when he looked again, it was nothing but a trick of the light, slowly waking up the world.
Chrom smiled, and solemnly professed his love in the quiet of the early morning. With those words he let go of a hope he didn’t know he had still been holding and set his eyes on the future. Robin would understand.
Naga remained silent. Grima was dead. The birds were chirping, and the sun rose slowly into the sky, heralding the start of a brand new day. Perhaps, Chrom thought as he carefully pressed his newborn children closer against his chest, this was not how he had dreamed of Robin’s return. But it was the next best thing.
Together, they’d be alright.
Chromgratulations Chrom, you deserve some happiness. If life has taught me something, then it is that while things hardly ever end up the way you hoped they would, they can be beautiful in ways you did not expect. I wrote this rather quickly because I had very little time, but it turned out well and surprisingly non-angsty! So here is to my favorite husbando, may you reign in my heart forever more.
Bellamy lasts four days before he decides to go after her. He tries, he really does, to respect her wishes and her need for space but he can’t just sit at camp and wonder if she’s okay, or where she’s gone. He has to see her with his own eyes to confirm that Clarke Griffin is still out there somewhere.
I have never loved someone as much as I loved her. We became best friends two summers ago and we had the strongest connection. I fell in love with her and ended up telling her. She didn’t feel the same but she promised nothing would change. At the end of last summer, when we said goodbye before we left for college, she cried and said she didn’t know how she was going to make it without seeing me everyday. Two weeks into school, she told me she had feelings for me, but we were both seeing other people and she didn’t want to do anything about it. When we were both single I tried to ask her out but it was hard when we were so far. She started getting cold and distant and I spent the next seven months trying to fix things. She pushed me away so much when all I wanted was our friendship. We stopped talking for a while, and when I finally tried to be the bigger person and reach out to her to see how she was doing, she was was so awful to me and it broke my heart. I couldn’t take it anymore, the way she has changed when all I’ve tried to do was fight for our friendship. And now she texts me like this everyday, and it’s killing me, but I know that if I give in like always, she will just go back to the same things.
Jason crawled yesterday. This provided Crystal and myself with two very important lessons. One, it’s time to babyproof the house; every surface, every object. Two, your wife will in fact nearly piss herself laughing if you get down on hands and knees next to your seven month old and try to show him how to crawl, and then send the video to your own mother (and mother-in-law). I think our peaceful days as parents are done, we’re doomed, and yet I can’t shake the grin from my face. How’s the week going for everyone else?
Joe O’Donnell, the man who took this photo at Nagasaki, was sent by the U.S. military to document the damage inflicted on the Japanese homeland caused by air raids of fire bombs and atomic bombs. Over the next seven months starting September 1945, he traveled across Western Japan chronicling the devastation, revealing the plight of the bomb victims including the dead, the wounded, the homeless and orphaned. Images of the human suffering was etched both on his negatives and his heart.