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Please consider turning it on! Fall beyond the cover of clouds The brightest lights do Her marriage to Robert had been a sort of… consolation prize to them both.

She had been raised hearing stories about the majestic Targaryens, and she was specially told of Rhaegar, who was to be her husband. In her young mind, somehow biting through the harsh lessons enforced upon her, she dreamt of a life when she had not to pretend, had not to see the world through preset rules for someone else, where she could be with her dragon and he with her, maybe even resulting in a bond of love, someday?

She would have no regrets leaving her Jaime behind if that were to be the case. She did not know how to feel when she heard news of Rhaegar kidnapping the Stark girl.

She remembered the vivid imagery her mind supplied her, remembered refusing to lay with her brother as they had always laid simply because she hated the idea of doing what may be being forced upon someone else from someone she coveted.

She still had no tight hold over her emotions when she was informed that a rebellion had risen and won, news of it kept from her for her mental peace, and she was to marry the new Baratheon King.

She remembered agreeing stoically, and then returning to her room and weeping as quietly as she could. It was at that moment she realized that she had hated her life, and had desired an escape from it.

It was not her fault her mother was sickly and in need of more comfort than most! Why should her father hate her and her existence this negligibly by her mother?

She wed with Robert, the first of his name. She laid with him the night of their wedding, as was custom. But her hopes that this would at least live up to be a shadow of what she dreamed it would have been with Rhaegar were shattered the very same night when he repeatedly referred to her as Lyanna.

As she was meant to wed Rhaegar, so too was Robert to take Lyanna Stark as his own. She remembered the news mid-coitus, and any pleasure she felt from it died instantly.

Her husband was done and collapsed on her, unmoving, and she lay there, staring at the ceiling with no expression whatsoever and teary eyes to trade for all her hopes and dreams… a feeling of emptiness.

After she had laid with him, she concocted and imbibed the contraceptive measures common women took. She wanted no spawn of her wretched husband, who now took to drinking and whoring like it was second nature, to birth from her loins.

She grew to be with child, and she reluctantly gave in to the notion of motherhood. Over the eleven months it took for her child to nurture within her womb, she came to see him or her as her last chance at happiness, for she was almost a hundred per cent sure Robert would never lay with her again… nor would she let him.

It was only after an unusually long and arduous labour period that her firstborn It was revealed to her by the Maester in secret that her attempted strangulation of any life within her womb had had effects on her baby, causing him to not be allowed proper nourishment from her to grow.

He died in the worst of pain. They rekindled their relationship as it was before, and she regularly ensured her use of contraceptives so that she would not lose another child.

Jaime became her world, and she his, and all was as before. She remembered in vivid clarity the advancing manticore, unusually large, right when she was about to take her monthly dose of child-preventives.

She threw the drink at the creature in manic defence but succeeded only in angering it. He did not utter the name of his first love, nor did she hers.

For just that one night, they were Robert and Cersei, two such hearts that had been denied their desire, and instead chose to connect.

She did not drink again, nor did she lay with her brother. Looking back… it was as if some part of her already knew she was with child.

Now, though, she wished she had. The pain was killing her lower regions, and she wept tears of agony. Robert next to her shifted uncomfortable, uncharacteristically sober for the experience.

She drew back her head and flung it forward with a solid effort to push, involuntarily butting heads with her husband… painfully. Robert raised a thumbs up from where he was sprawled on the ground, scrambling to rise.

It was when her baby, her alive, breathing, crying baby She held her arms out for her baby and gasped when she got her first good look at him after he was wiped down.

For you see, Cersei was always meant to hate Robert, and Robert was never meant to sire a legitimate heir at all, but it had so happened, and the fate of Westeros would never be the same again.

All those who gaze upon him! But when Robert gazed back at his wife, still a little delirious from her labour, it was then that, at some unfathomable level deep within his heart, he already knew she hated him with all her being.

For he had almost dropped her child. But that would be the only response fate would be able to give, as it was strangled by the will of a newborn babe.

It was the oddest thing. Not a soul knew of their indiscretions, but if one did, he was quite certain even his Oddly, there were no negative feelings linked with the word at all.

She had spoken to him when he had sneaked into her room to meet her and asked him to seek love elsewhere, for she had none left to give to him.

Their love was blameless at first. The best the world has to offer to mankind, and the richest. They also were the most fetching, her beauty and grace unmatched by another, and his own handsomeness and charm unrivalled.

They were meant to be together! None deserved her or him to themselves, broken as a pair and separated! They were meant to live together!

To bear… children… together…. Would he love the child for being a symbol of his love for her? Would he give him or her the paternal adoration much better than their father ever did?

Would he guide them, regale them with his takes and help them to chase skirts or ward off the boys? He looked at his hands as he walked.

Would he strangle their tiny, weak neck with his own hands? The hands that have killed several hundred men?

The hands that committed actions that branded him Kingslayer? He shook his head. Even if his sister were to birth his child The child has no error, not fault would lie in its hands.

If Cersei wished to birth one, then he would ensure that his child lived healthy, happy lives. He would never be able to be their true father, but he would protect them from the shadows.

They would deserve more than this son of Robert, simply because they were birthed from Lannister blood, pure and undiluted — blood that had value.

He finally entered the room to see almost all of its occupants huddled around his sister. His fists clenched as he made his way into the gathering.

How could he contemplate death when it was supposed to be the celebration of life? There was even a tourney held. If he did have any negative feelings for young Hadrian, he would deal with them in time.

But here he was, staring into emerald eyes that seemed to be glowing, almost, with innocent wonder. The Baratheon recessive trait for brilliant white hair, due to Targaryen blood, seemed to have emerged, and given the boy an ethereal look.

The entirety of the small council was present, able to use their positions of power as leeway to gaze upon their new prince. Dare he say it, the little devil had won over all of them already; even Varys was oohing and aahing over the babe.

The man was a known whoremonger and it was common knowledge that his brothel catered to Not to say that Jaime had never partaken in such activities, but he drew the line when it came to be laying with men Hadrian eyed the gold coin for a long moment before turning away, and towards his mother.

Robert had, at first, seemed shocked, but was slowly getting over it and starting to laugh loudly. The others, however, shared a look, for it had been only a few days since the babe was born.

Such events soon ruled over the palace, as he grew to be a truly smart and intelligent boy. However, this would not be the Baratheon family in its entirety; for within a year, Cersei was carrying another child.

Grandmaester Pycelle joked that he might be a fussy one when he finally got out. Thank heavens they had two houses to find heirs for, or else the boys may have to scuffle a bit.

He sighed as he looked over his papers, attempting to make sense of what was spread out in front of him. He never had a great mind for strategy, but he was almost certain he would have seen a pattern in these events in his younger days.

For one, the handmaidens who helped deliver Hadrian were found dead in their rooms. Their bodies were as if they had passed away while in sleep.

And then, to further aggravate the situation, a box full of manticore corpses was dropped at the front door.

There was no address, no note, and no one spotted the deliverer. It reminded him of… unpleasant things, so he had it burned. The stench clung to his nose even still.

There was… another event, but he had informed no one of its occurrence. He did not know why he did that, or why, only that he should have.

He glanced down at his stomach in thought. Too fat, come to think of it. All he remembered was a strong pain, and the shocked faces of Cersei and Harry before he lost consciousness… or so he thought.

There he was, floating in a black void. His body felt weightless and his worries trivial. Why was he ever stressed? Now that he thought about it, every problem he ever had could be solved with a swift action that he wished he would have taken.

No sooner than the last word echoed in the void, motes of silver light appeared and coalesced into a single person.

A visage which he would never forget for as long as he lived…. Why do you pine after me so? I am dead, and you are the living, my friend. We may never unite.

But I can tell you that I am sorry, and you must not punish others and yourself for my mistake. You were once a great man, and you can be so again.

All you must do is… let go. Honour that, at the very least. It was then that he felt a cool darkness. Several tendrils of cold seemed to wrap around him and tug him There was no sense of direction in this expanse.

He felt himself growing heavy. It was as if everything was As his eyes closed, he could have sworn he heard Hadrian calling for him. My queen, my king has-".

Robert hugged his boy close but spoke all the same. I feel like I got run over by a boar! Cersei came up to his bedside then, eyeing him with worry.

Internally, he was shaken to the core. Had he just died and returned to the land of the living? Was it Lyanna that sent him back? He very nearly died today He died without thanking Cersei for this new chapter in his life, without dancing with her Things had to change, and they had to change as soon as possible.

He was not going to pass on before his son took the throne, and he was not going to be remembered as a father and husband who knew nothing of his family.

Nearly a later, Hadrian tossed and turned in his bed, eyes scrunched, and brow beaded with sweat. He was having a recurring nightmare that, despite its intensity, would not let him wake.

Fortunately, oftentimes, it did not have to. The hissing call roused him. His eyes snapped open, instantly aware, and for just a second, any observer would have told you that his eyes glowed with ethereal energy.

He sighed as he rolled over, and his eyes landed on the corner of the room that seemed to be always drenched in the darkest of shadows. He throws the covers off himself as he snarls in fury.

And with nary a backward glance, he makes his way out of the room. Some would have found this alarming. Hadrian eyed the newly born Joffrey with a critical eye.

Cersei smiled at how his face was scrunched up adorably She decided then and there she would give him the talk when he was four-and-ten namedays grown.

Ah, it seemed her moods were still not quite under control. Joffrey was born unusually small, skin unusually pale unlike the blood-rushed Hadrian had been.

While the Robert now seemed to be a far cry from what she had thought the man would always be reduced to, the journey to bettering himself had not been easy or fast.

There were more than a few hurdles and bumps, but she was glad to have endured them when she saw what the man had recovered and become.

She refused all nourishment until Jaime had sat her down and hugged her close, knowing when she wanted to cry. The man was slowly changing then, but the energy had returned after that horrible evening in itself.

Now, she cursed her stupidity to the high heavens, but then, at the moment, she was unsatisfied that the man had not succumbed.

Joffrey had no fault. He was life born from a night of weakness, however ill-considered. And so, she brought him into the world.

He looked so much like her Jaime and herself that she wanted to cry. Perhaps looking at him grow up to become them was to be her penance for her unfaithfulness.

If I will be your air, he will be your water. We will never let our father, or you, falter — I will teach him these thoughts.

I swear this on my life. Cersei gazed into the steady emerald eyes of her son with pride and astonishment. For such a young age, Hadrian had been a remarkably smart boy.

He learned to speak, walk, read, and write very early, and had begun devouring the Grand Library recently, mostly books and scrolls on science and medicine.

He aided Pycelle in guiding her husband Robert down from his Robert looked much more a king with less flab on his body that her entire family combined.

For a moment, Cersei felt unbelievably sad. No child should have to bear the expectations of an entire Kingdom on their shoulders. But then she smiled because every child born into the Game learned its nuances The Queen to the Baratheon king smiled politely in farewell as Renly, her very young brother-in-law, left after dropping Hadrian by with his manservant.

Something always rubbed her wrong about the way they looked at each other Cersei shook her head, smiling fondly from her bed as she watched her children play with each other on the ground.

Such worries were not for now. Although some part of her screamed out foul, another seemed content, as if it was something she was familiar with.

She simply decided to let sleeping lions lie, for once. Five-year-old Joffrey usually hated people on principle, it seemed, and despised such plebeian actions such as sitting on the ground.

He was always the near-stereotypical spoiled child, demanding for things and crying if they were not granted to him. Deep in her heart, she worried for his sake.

Some long, long time ago, during the formation of their religion, people must have observed that incest begot deformed children, and assumed it was an act of god and written it down.

Joffrey exhibited no such symptoms, but she was no Maester. She dared not ask Pycelle, or the man may as well discover his true parentage and then she would be forced to deal with him.

Regardless, her younger son showed no malformed features… save for his temper. It was near-legendary in the castle already.

Most servants approached him with caution, for he would only allow his family to hold him or come close. But with Hadrian, or rather Harry, as he preferred to be called in spite of her declaration that it sounded too common… he simply said that she should have thought of it while naming him, which in all honesty she really did , such reservations were out the window.

The two were inseparable. If Harry was to spend his afternoon in the Grand Library, then so too would Joffrey force his nurse to take him there.

If Harry were to practice his etiquette with his newly appointed tutor, then Joffrey would insist on being in the same room and would even try to emulate his brother.

But apparently, there was a line, because Joffrey was every bit a Lannister where Harry was a Baratheon. Harry only came to be more adorable as he grew.

His eyes had flecks of light green in them now, causing them to feel as if they were glittering when he was in the sun. His skin was a healthy pale shade, in part due to his refusal to perform outdoor activities in the sun and due to his proportionally large amount of time indoors.

Her eyes narrowed as she thought of that. Her son would marry whomever he wished to, and not whoever had the most clout with her or her husband.

But then again, maybe she would not have to be the one to speak with him of such matters at all. She sighed and rolled her eyes, smiling fondly.

Robert had become a completely changed man. He no longer drank himself into stupors or whored around like the world would end. Instead, he seemed to have dropped most of his bad habits with his weight.

It was easy to see why; the man doted on Harry like no tomorrow. Although she did have to fondly but firmly stop him from teaching her son the way of the sword before his seventh name day.

It seemed like the man he was when they first married, before the mess with the Targaryens He was coming back. She had asked Jaime, once again, to keep his distance for the time being, and phrased it as if someone were on the verge of discovery, but, in actuality, the new man her husband was proving himself to be was drawing her in like never before.

A strange hissing noise drew her attention, and when she forced herself out of her thoughts, she almost screamed.

The toys that the Tyrells has gifted Joffrey lay aside as if tossed out of disinterest. Her youngest clapped and laughed as Harry played with a snake twice as long as he was tall and as wide as her wrist.

But what gave her pause was not the sound Her eyes widened when she realized that Harry was asking the snake to perform those tricks, and it obeyed.

The boy called upon went shock-still as if he had forgotten where he was and who was around him. The snake coiled, snapping its neck in her direction and hissing threateningly.

Seeing this, Harry quickly hissed at it and seemed to assuage its Why that little- "Now you listen here!

It will be a cold day in hell before he is harmed by my hand! If you were to come between us ever again, I will find myself in possession of a new snake wallet!

Joffrey looked at his mother, brother, and the snake, with visible confusion. Cersei thought about the bizarre situation before she spoke next.

Cersei regarded her son for a moment, before sighing. Cersei squared her shoulders and quelled around the snake to crouch in front of her child and hug him close.

Were you not listening to me just now? I will always love you, regardless. Never say such a thing again. Joffrey decided that he wanted a hug too, and wobbled forth to throw his arms around them, squealing in delight.

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. Even with such a serious topic at the breakfast table, his father had no tact. He is currently on the table, you realize?

Harry took a bite before speaking. I apparently have the talent to understand it. His mother arched an eyebrow.

Or rather, breathing is a more appropriate comparison. We are not thought how to do it — we just do. Harry tilted his head. This one must be very young.

None would know you would survive. I do not recall any warg having been born in the Lannister family, but I will write home to ask father just to be sure.

Having just graduated the ninja academy due to a happenstance and placed on Team 7, Naruto is roaring to go. How will his journey be affected if the Shadow Clone Jutsu was not the only thing he learned from the Forbidden Scroll that night?

Naruto has only just failed his first Academy exam and must resit in the same year. His previous class moved up without him!

How will his remaining days in the sheltered world of the Academy pass with new people and Bully munchkins, messed-up parents of said munchkins, some supportive munchkins, and one giant ball of cuddly floof.

Where Harry is a low-key alcoholic, Tony is a cute little thing, and everyone is dead tired waiting for what they know is going to happen to happen.

Armed with a technique that is a mix of a blessing and a curse, a closer knit Team 7, and friends who care, Naruto vows to never lose a precious person if he can help it.

And if giant space-crustaceans want to end all civilization? Before any bastard children are borne from incest, the dying bond of love in a forced marriage rang true when Cersei birthed Hadrian, a comely white-haired green-eyed child.

Little did she know that this was not his first chance at life. As a person with powers and knowledge from another world at his disposal, how will the world change to his whims?

The wheels of fate turn with every action one makes. No matter how insignificant, every move from the smallest step to the largest heart-clenching decision shapes the future.

Centuries after that fatal day of the battle of Hogwarts, Harry Potter has fallen into legend, a bedtime story parents tell their children, a name whispered around campfires.

He wanders the world alone and immortal, until one single reckless moment sends him hurtling into a parallel dimension of heroes and villains.

A new enemy arises from an ancient power, and Harry must take a stand as the last wizard to protect this new world.

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KittyCore fick auch mit jedem!!! She had been raised hearing stories about the majestic Targaryens, and she was specially told of Rhaegar, who was to be her husband.

In her young mind, somehow biting through the harsh lessons enforced upon her, she dreamt of a life when she had not to pretend, had not to see the world through preset rules for someone else, where she could be with her dragon and he with her, maybe even resulting in a bond of love, someday?

She would have no regrets leaving her Jaime behind if that were to be the case. She did not know how to feel when she heard news of Rhaegar kidnapping the Stark girl.

She remembered the vivid imagery her mind supplied her, remembered refusing to lay with her brother as they had always laid simply because she hated the idea of doing what may be being forced upon someone else from someone she coveted.

She still had no tight hold over her emotions when she was informed that a rebellion had risen and won, news of it kept from her for her mental peace, and she was to marry the new Baratheon King.

She remembered agreeing stoically, and then returning to her room and weeping as quietly as she could. It was at that moment she realized that she had hated her life, and had desired an escape from it.

It was not her fault her mother was sickly and in need of more comfort than most! Why should her father hate her and her existence this negligibly by her mother?

She wed with Robert, the first of his name. She laid with him the night of their wedding, as was custom. But her hopes that this would at least live up to be a shadow of what she dreamed it would have been with Rhaegar were shattered the very same night when he repeatedly referred to her as Lyanna.

As she was meant to wed Rhaegar, so too was Robert to take Lyanna Stark as his own. She remembered the news mid-coitus, and any pleasure she felt from it died instantly.

Her husband was done and collapsed on her, unmoving, and she lay there, staring at the ceiling with no expression whatsoever and teary eyes to trade for all her hopes and dreams… a feeling of emptiness.

After she had laid with him, she concocted and imbibed the contraceptive measures common women took. She wanted no spawn of her wretched husband, who now took to drinking and whoring like it was second nature, to birth from her loins.

She grew to be with child, and she reluctantly gave in to the notion of motherhood. Over the eleven months it took for her child to nurture within her womb, she came to see him or her as her last chance at happiness, for she was almost a hundred per cent sure Robert would never lay with her again… nor would she let him.

It was only after an unusually long and arduous labour period that her firstborn It was revealed to her by the Maester in secret that her attempted strangulation of any life within her womb had had effects on her baby, causing him to not be allowed proper nourishment from her to grow.

He died in the worst of pain. They rekindled their relationship as it was before, and she regularly ensured her use of contraceptives so that she would not lose another child.

Jaime became her world, and she his, and all was as before. She remembered in vivid clarity the advancing manticore, unusually large, right when she was about to take her monthly dose of child-preventives.

She threw the drink at the creature in manic defence but succeeded only in angering it. He did not utter the name of his first love, nor did she hers.

For just that one night, they were Robert and Cersei, two such hearts that had been denied their desire, and instead chose to connect.

She did not drink again, nor did she lay with her brother. Looking back… it was as if some part of her already knew she was with child.

Now, though, she wished she had. The pain was killing her lower regions, and she wept tears of agony. Robert next to her shifted uncomfortable, uncharacteristically sober for the experience.

She drew back her head and flung it forward with a solid effort to push, involuntarily butting heads with her husband… painfully.

Robert raised a thumbs up from where he was sprawled on the ground, scrambling to rise. It was when her baby, her alive, breathing, crying baby She held her arms out for her baby and gasped when she got her first good look at him after he was wiped down.

For you see, Cersei was always meant to hate Robert, and Robert was never meant to sire a legitimate heir at all, but it had so happened, and the fate of Westeros would never be the same again.

All those who gaze upon him! But when Robert gazed back at his wife, still a little delirious from her labour, it was then that, at some unfathomable level deep within his heart, he already knew she hated him with all her being.

For he had almost dropped her child. But that would be the only response fate would be able to give, as it was strangled by the will of a newborn babe.

It was the oddest thing. Not a soul knew of their indiscretions, but if one did, he was quite certain even his Oddly, there were no negative feelings linked with the word at all.

She had spoken to him when he had sneaked into her room to meet her and asked him to seek love elsewhere, for she had none left to give to him.

Their love was blameless at first. The best the world has to offer to mankind, and the richest. They also were the most fetching, her beauty and grace unmatched by another, and his own handsomeness and charm unrivalled.

They were meant to be together! None deserved her or him to themselves, broken as a pair and separated! They were meant to live together!

To bear… children… together…. Would he love the child for being a symbol of his love for her? Would he give him or her the paternal adoration much better than their father ever did?

Would he guide them, regale them with his takes and help them to chase skirts or ward off the boys? He looked at his hands as he walked.

Would he strangle their tiny, weak neck with his own hands? The hands that have killed several hundred men? The hands that committed actions that branded him Kingslayer?

He shook his head. Even if his sister were to birth his child The child has no error, not fault would lie in its hands. If Cersei wished to birth one, then he would ensure that his child lived healthy, happy lives.

He would never be able to be their true father, but he would protect them from the shadows. They would deserve more than this son of Robert, simply because they were birthed from Lannister blood, pure and undiluted — blood that had value.

He finally entered the room to see almost all of its occupants huddled around his sister. His fists clenched as he made his way into the gathering.

How could he contemplate death when it was supposed to be the celebration of life? There was even a tourney held. If he did have any negative feelings for young Hadrian, he would deal with them in time.

But here he was, staring into emerald eyes that seemed to be glowing, almost, with innocent wonder. The Baratheon recessive trait for brilliant white hair, due to Targaryen blood, seemed to have emerged, and given the boy an ethereal look.

The entirety of the small council was present, able to use their positions of power as leeway to gaze upon their new prince.

Dare he say it, the little devil had won over all of them already; even Varys was oohing and aahing over the babe. The man was a known whoremonger and it was common knowledge that his brothel catered to Not to say that Jaime had never partaken in such activities, but he drew the line when it came to be laying with men Hadrian eyed the gold coin for a long moment before turning away, and towards his mother.

Robert had, at first, seemed shocked, but was slowly getting over it and starting to laugh loudly. The others, however, shared a look, for it had been only a few days since the babe was born.

Such events soon ruled over the palace, as he grew to be a truly smart and intelligent boy. However, this would not be the Baratheon family in its entirety; for within a year, Cersei was carrying another child.

Grandmaester Pycelle joked that he might be a fussy one when he finally got out. Thank heavens they had two houses to find heirs for, or else the boys may have to scuffle a bit.

He sighed as he looked over his papers, attempting to make sense of what was spread out in front of him. He never had a great mind for strategy, but he was almost certain he would have seen a pattern in these events in his younger days.

For one, the handmaidens who helped deliver Hadrian were found dead in their rooms. Their bodies were as if they had passed away while in sleep.

And then, to further aggravate the situation, a box full of manticore corpses was dropped at the front door. There was no address, no note, and no one spotted the deliverer.

It reminded him of… unpleasant things, so he had it burned. The stench clung to his nose even still. There was… another event, but he had informed no one of its occurrence.

He did not know why he did that, or why, only that he should have. He glanced down at his stomach in thought. Too fat, come to think of it.

All he remembered was a strong pain, and the shocked faces of Cersei and Harry before he lost consciousness… or so he thought.

There he was, floating in a black void. His body felt weightless and his worries trivial. Why was he ever stressed? Now that he thought about it, every problem he ever had could be solved with a swift action that he wished he would have taken.

No sooner than the last word echoed in the void, motes of silver light appeared and coalesced into a single person. A visage which he would never forget for as long as he lived….

Why do you pine after me so? I am dead, and you are the living, my friend. We may never unite. But I can tell you that I am sorry, and you must not punish others and yourself for my mistake.

You were once a great man, and you can be so again. All you must do is… let go. Honour that, at the very least. It was then that he felt a cool darkness.

Several tendrils of cold seemed to wrap around him and tug him There was no sense of direction in this expanse. He felt himself growing heavy.

It was as if everything was As his eyes closed, he could have sworn he heard Hadrian calling for him. My queen, my king has-". Robert hugged his boy close but spoke all the same.

I feel like I got run over by a boar! Cersei came up to his bedside then, eyeing him with worry. Internally, he was shaken to the core.

Had he just died and returned to the land of the living? Was it Lyanna that sent him back? He very nearly died today He died without thanking Cersei for this new chapter in his life, without dancing with her Things had to change, and they had to change as soon as possible.

He was not going to pass on before his son took the throne, and he was not going to be remembered as a father and husband who knew nothing of his family.

Nearly a later, Hadrian tossed and turned in his bed, eyes scrunched, and brow beaded with sweat. He was having a recurring nightmare that, despite its intensity, would not let him wake.

Fortunately, oftentimes, it did not have to. The hissing call roused him. His eyes snapped open, instantly aware, and for just a second, any observer would have told you that his eyes glowed with ethereal energy.

He sighed as he rolled over, and his eyes landed on the corner of the room that seemed to be always drenched in the darkest of shadows. He throws the covers off himself as he snarls in fury.

And with nary a backward glance, he makes his way out of the room. Some would have found this alarming. Hadrian eyed the newly born Joffrey with a critical eye.

Cersei smiled at how his face was scrunched up adorably She decided then and there she would give him the talk when he was four-and-ten namedays grown.

Ah, it seemed her moods were still not quite under control. Joffrey was born unusually small, skin unusually pale unlike the blood-rushed Hadrian had been.

While the Robert now seemed to be a far cry from what she had thought the man would always be reduced to, the journey to bettering himself had not been easy or fast.

There were more than a few hurdles and bumps, but she was glad to have endured them when she saw what the man had recovered and become. She refused all nourishment until Jaime had sat her down and hugged her close, knowing when she wanted to cry.

The man was slowly changing then, but the energy had returned after that horrible evening in itself. Now, she cursed her stupidity to the high heavens, but then, at the moment, she was unsatisfied that the man had not succumbed.

Joffrey had no fault. He was life born from a night of weakness, however ill-considered. And so, she brought him into the world.

He looked so much like her Jaime and herself that she wanted to cry. Perhaps looking at him grow up to become them was to be her penance for her unfaithfulness.

If I will be your air, he will be your water. We will never let our father, or you, falter — I will teach him these thoughts. I swear this on my life.

Little did she know that this was not his first chance at life. As a person with powers and knowledge from another world at his disposal, how will the world change to his whims?

The wheels of fate turn with every action one makes. No matter how insignificant, every move from the smallest step to the largest heart-clenching decision shapes the future.

Centuries after that fatal day of the battle of Hogwarts, Harry Potter has fallen into legend, a bedtime story parents tell their children, a name whispered around campfires.

He wanders the world alone and immortal, until one single reckless moment sends him hurtling into a parallel dimension of heroes and villains.

A new enemy arises from an ancient power, and Harry must take a stand as the last wizard to protect this new world. Naruto realizes the ability of the Kage Bunshin the night after being attacked by Mizuki.

At first he just wants to use them to help him train; then the true usefulness of the jutsu begins to reveal itself. Dumbledore said Harry had a choice.

He could go back, go back to battle, end the war.

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