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    is it that hard to admit to the truth, lucina? and alright, we can spar! i’ll get my levin sword!

fight me, brother.

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( That’s because you are a hobo. )

　　Twofold a take, Robin’s blinks were exaggerated. Confused more than anything else when a young boy with short hair of a familiar shade of blue rushed through the door with a handful of questions, he did not know exactly where to start from either answering those questions flung towards him to explaining himself in order to erase the immediate misunderstanding. 

　　❝I beg your pardon-?❞ he retorted, his sound was offended, and his expression curled to match his tone. Never before had Robin ever been accused of being either thief or a hobo (perhaps even both in this case).

　　　 ❝Weren’t you taught any manners at all?❞

      ❝ You heard me, didn’t you? ❞ Morgan insisted, blue eyes intensifying as he bored into the weird man that suddenly barged into his parents’ castle, he wasn’t sure why this man matched with him and his mother. This outfit was only reserved for him and her! Not this weird guy! 

         The other man seemed to be completely indignant from the tactician’s accusation, but he couldn’t blame him. However, knowing that his family was endangered by such a man made the prince feel bad. He should really stop leaving them alone, maybe it would be better if Morgan simply stayed put to protect the Exalted family against weirdos like him.

          Lips pursed out of frustration, he felt equally offended when the white-haired man asked if he was taught any manners. Of course he had-- well, not really.  ❝ No, we were being threatened by a huge dragon, I didn’t have time to learn manners... I could be asking you the same thing! Why are you here? Just explain that to me! ❞

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Best husband award goes to …. Chrom. //insert confetti here

These two as siblings is pretty much the best thing ever. Parent obsession extremes.

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I’LLL USE THIS BLOG AGAIN ONE DAY

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sutoratejii​

      After returning from his last adventure, he realized that someone inhabited the previously empty room next to his. Curious about the guest, he forgot all sense of politeness and merely barged into the room. Inside, he saw a man with white-hair and was evidently wearing the same exact coat that he thought only he and his mother shared. There was clearly a problem with this. There was no need for formalities when a thief was inhabiting the guest room!

      ❝ Excuse me, ❞ Morgan began, narrowing his eyes at the presumed intruder. ❝ Who are you, why are you wearing mother’s clothes, and why are you here? Are you a thief or something? A hobo? ❞ Well, the prince was unsure if that was the correct term to use...

     ❝ Gods, how did you get in the castle, anyways? ❞

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plegianmxge || continued from this ask.

     Morgan’s lips curved into a frown, his eyes dulling from glancing at the dark mage’s smile. To think that it could be so positively radiant, yet it managed to hid a vast amount of turmoil inside. For a second, the prince wondered if he could ever possess the very same capability as that... but at the same time, he was unsure of how to weigh the pros and the cons with a definite winner at the time. ❝ Oh, so it’s like that... you’re quite self sacrificing. I don’t think you could truly hurt anyone, Henry! I’m sure of it... ❞

      The question asked did nothing but make the tactician spiral into even deeper thought, somehow evoking a tear out of the young boy. Raising a tentative sleeve to wipe off the stray tear, he looked at Henry and began to formulate an answer. ❝ I... I don’t know, actually. That makes me wonder what I did in the past that made it so hard to remember... did I hurt my friends in the old timeline? I can’t bear the thought of finding out that I hurt those I love the most. ❞

       ❝ I understand now. So it’s like you have no control over your tendencies and you hurt those that you are close to. That’s why you remain distant. ❞ A silent nod followed his words, accompanied by a sad smile. ❝ It doesn’t have to be that way! Maybe we can find a way for you to control it... ❞

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[Bruh, I’m going to drop all of the threads I had going on with the exception of my threads with plegianmxge and kokinachi since those are fairly recent.

However, I’ll try to get things started on Morgan again, mostly because people keep yelling at me to haha.

So mutuals, like this for a starter!] 

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kokinachi​ || in response to this ask.

      ❝ Oh... you don’t mind me doing so, Lucina? ❞ He squeaked, a bit grateful for his sister’s kindness. Slightly bashful, the prince glanced away from Lucina. Comparing how they are right now to his memories of their past-- there was a stark difference between the two. He felt fulfillment of sorts, glad that perhaps the two of them can bear the burdens they both had together.

       Absentmindedly reclining on the soft grass blades, he began to slip on his gloves. Before the realization could hit, he ended up completely slipping and landed on the grass as if it was a bed. Thank the gods for the fact they rested in these plains. A sigh departed his lips as a result.

       ❝ Sorry about that! ❞ Morgan apologized immediately, but still lied down on the grass. There wasn’t anything wrong with the position, and it was a bit comfortable... so there was no need to get up. He would just have to take a bath later. ❝ And Lucina... I was just thinking... even though I received those memories again and I remember you and father properly...❞

        ❝ I-I... I can’t say that those memories were great. In fact, I think they just made me feel worse than I did before. It seems like the happiness could only last for so long. I mean, it’s peaceful now, but...❞

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"Hey, Morgie," the child called, tugging on her older brother's coat. "I need help." - littleexaltedprincess

    ❝ Oh... Morgie? ❞ Morgan chuckled, finding the nickname that his little sister gave him quite hilarious. Well, it is easier to say than Morgan... he supposed. His gaze went to focus on the little girl, a small smile present on his face.

     ❝ Is there something in particular you need help with? ❞

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♣︎

      send me ‘ ♣︎ ‘ and i’ll generate a number between                 1 - 110 for what my muse will say to yours.                       (  contains a range of themes. mostly angst/fluff/smut.  )

      ❝ Hey, Henry, I have a question... I noticed a little something... ❞ Morgan muttered, a flash of concern growing on his face.

       ❝You push away anybody who could possibly care about you. Why is that?❞

[exaltedmemories-blog]

       send me ‘ ♣︎ ‘ and i’ll generate a number between                   1 - 110 for what my muse will say to yours.                           (  contains a range of themes. mostly angst/fluff/smut.  ) 

Keep reading

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Happy birthday son!! They grow so fast 

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Serious Steven Morgan 🌟

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"Happy brith day."

     “Thanks!”

      “I’m glad you remembered!”

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"Rivalsin! Happy day of birth, and here comes the grand surprise!" With that exclaimed, Owain didn't take long to (gently, no need to make anyone hurt now) throw the cake at his cousin's face, laughing. In Morgan's shock, he placed the small bag that held his gift in his hands before making his great escape. "No takebacks!"

    “Rivalsin? Well, it makes sense. Thanks, Owain!” Morgan calmly replied, not expecting the surprise that would come his way. “So, what’s with that--”

SPLAT!

        With his face caked with the grand dessert of the day, Morgan was cut off almost immediately. Trying to shrug it off, the prince merely licked the cake that covered his lips, making it so he could speak with ease. With a tentative hand, Morgan also made sure to wipe off the remainder of the cake so he could at least see.

         Finally glancing at what was in his hand, Morgan simply grinned.

        “I’ll get you back one day, Owain! So be prepared, rivalsin!”

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"Happy Birthday Male Prince me!" Morgan cheered, throwing some confetti over his head.

    “T-There’s no need for the confetti, Female Not-Prince Me!” Morgan returned with a laugh, playing along with her affectionate nick-naming.

      “It looks like I owe you a happy birthday too! So... happy birthday, Morgan!” He grinned, grabbing some of the confetti and throwing it at her in return.

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        He was a bit reluctant to get up, but his father urged him to do so-- especially considering the occasion. His birthday... along with the birth of his future self. He was shocked at the mere realization, and was certainly surprised when his father boisterously pounded at his door.

         The prince slapped both of his cheeks in his own attempts to wake up, it wouldn’t be wise to show up half-asleep, after all. 

         Despite his own drowsiness, Morgan felt anxious about his future self’s birth... would he be delivered safely? What if he was actually a she? Keeping those qualms to himself, he silently followed his father to his mother’s room.

        Upon arriving, Morgan craned his neck to answer his father’s prompt, “Yes! I’m sorry that I’m so tired, father... I stayed up too late last night.” He laughed sheepishly, and tried to tug on his sleeves... only to realize that he forgot to put his tactician cloak on. “I guess it won’t be cold...” He murmured to himself, attempting to avert his gaze to focus on entering instead. Somehow his father got too excited and went ahead of him, leaving Morgan to file in quickly.

         So he decided to lightly tip-toe inside the room, glancing at his mother as he struggled to make sure he wasn’t entirely visible, making him wish that he had his cloak-- and that it possessed the power of invisibility. His parents were having a moment, aren’t they? It would be wise to leave him alone.

         Morgan awkwardly shuffled a bit closer to his mother’s bed, but made sure to still remain at a fixated distance from the couple. Upon closer inspection, Morgan realized that his mother seemed to be a bit grim, along with his father. However, it was only for a split-second before their smiles returned with no hesitation.

         His gaze flickered over to the tiny bundle she held in her hands, making Morgan wonder... when he tried to recount his own birth, he drew up a blank. Despite the return of his memories, it was near to impossible to remember how his own birth went, especially considering since he was barely conscious at the time.

          “Mother... are you okay?” He inquired, a look of concern flashing across his face. 

         “Well, when I think about it.... it’s a bit odd to comprehend that I used to be this small.” He quipped right after his query, hoping that it would lighten the mood in some way. “Growth is truly powerful, isn’t it? I find it amazing how we develop over the years, and our bodies don’t require any prompting either. Maybe growth isn’t the right word...” The tactician ended up trailing off at his last sentence, wondering if it was futile for him to make such casual conversation during such a solemn event.

Arrival | Robin, Chrom, & Morgan

ofexaltedblood & exaltedmemories are visiting the queen!

  After what very well may be the toughest pregnancy Robin could possibly have experienced, her little prince had arrived safe and sound. It had been a great effort on her part, and she had been surrounded by the palace’s wet nurses for quite a long time. On several occasions, she’d cried out in pain, and had suspected she may lose consciousness from the sheer agony she was in.

  In the end, she was left sweaty and exhausted, hair tousled in a mess that rivaled the Shepherds’ camp after a hearty feast, and eyes half-lidded and heavy. There were, thankfully, no complications in the process, and everything had gone smoothly.

  But there was one problem: little Morgan was abnormally small, even for a newly born infant. The wet nurses explained to her that he had been born several weeks ahead of his time, and the queen had a hard time fathoming why. She had known Morgan would be born on the fifth of May, so how had he been conceived late? 

  It made little sense, and she could scarcely do anything else but blame herself for his condition. She had not been the most cautious of expecting mothers, and had endured quite a bit of hardship - both mental and physical - throughout the time she had carried him. It was a miracle he had survived at all, even if he had been born prematurely. In hindsight, Robin suspected that she should have predicted such an outcome, but she had not, and was frustrated with herself for not foreseeing it.

  Once they had taken the time to properly cleanse and soothe the prince, the wet nurses returned to their queen, gently placing her son into her arms. They mentioned that the clerics would have to keep an eye on him due to his prematurity, which Robin acknowledged before turning her attention to the new life in her arms, allowing them to rush off to find her no-doubt anxious husband.

  Seeing him up close made Robin realize just how fragile and tiny he was, and warm tears brimmed in the corners of her eyes. Despite this, she could not help but grin, allowing herself to nuzzle her nose against his much smaller one before pressing a kiss to the forehead of the swaddled child, carefully observing him. He had arrived with a head of velvety blue hair, a shade that matched his sire’s almost perfectly, and his skin matched her own. 

  Gods, how she adored him. Already, she loved him dearly, and vowed internally to protect him with her life. To be able to bear a second child after receiving a second chance at mortality was a blessing, and with how the dark future had unfolded, she wanted her two young children to grow up normally, surrounded by loved ones.

  She was holding her newborn son, who had at long last ceased his cries and had fallen asleep, when her husband, the Exalt, arrived with the older prince. Though Robin would have liked to have time to herself until she regained the energy to be productive, she could not deny her family their visitation, and she clutched the tiny baby close to her, giving a weak, warm smile as amber eyes flickered up to study her guests, speaking in a low murmur.

              “Careful not to wake him. It took the nurses ages to calm him down.”