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rise-my-angel · 4 months

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Heart of the Great Wolf

32 - Peeking the Realms Woes

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)

Length: 15.4k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, body shaming, derogatory language, mild descriptions of blood and gore, references to past torture/rape, past character death, smut, public sex, p in v, slight exhibitionism

Notes: If you're hungry for extra content, at the top of the masterlist there are 4 oneshots which are side companion pieces. All canon to the plot but just did not fit into any main story chapter. There's 2 prequel esque chapters, one smut based chapter set in an ambiguous point in the story, and a nsfw alphabet. Just if anyone's curious! Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

You had never walked and travelled lands as something called a Queen in any times but war. Not for a second in the Westlands did you nor Robb go anywhere without a number of guard, being in war torn enemy territory. But you also had an army camp anywhere between twenty to thirty thousand depending on where exactly your men were stationed at. You were always around a vast number of soldiers and guard.

In a similar fashion, you were somewhat used to it in Kings Landing. Either you had a flock of hens chattering about behind you at Cersei's insistence of giving you handmaidens. Or you had a guard with you most typically when travelling the streets beyond the Red Keep to the docks and waters but you also lived in a city with what now was likely close to a million people. It was normal to have a guard of at least one.

But here? In the North? It was odd. Trying to implore them to keep their distance most of the time as you appreciated the quiet. Jon had discussed it with Theon, where he felt he fit here now more and gave him his full trust to lead as the Queen's Captain of the Guard. Acting the one in charge knowing exactly when to force them to give you that quiet. It was not a long trip to get here, leaving early and not caring to stop until you reached it, but as soon as you did, they were allowed to stay guard and keep their eyes out but you were thankful Theon knew to force them to give space to what was unfolding.

The raven was simple, coming from Castle Black addressed to you specifically and the moment you had read it, a weight hit you once more. Looking at maps of the land to connect the paths of where exactly to go, knowing it would be a rather simple path to get there if they let you go at the speed you needed to get there quick. Jon was the one who insisted to send people with you, and Theon recognizing the protest about to come from you as he spoke up about gathering a few guards and himself. You had leaned somewhat against the table in a moment alone with a playful raise of one eyebrow, “I know it is a hard thing for you to imagine, but I think I can manage one teenage boy on my own.”

He had all but yanked you into his front at that one, a dark tease in his eyes with a tone that of an playful condescension. “How well did that go for you, when I was the teenage boy?”

Crossing your arms best you could in the space between you, your tone was flat and almost made the playfulness in his grow. “Most boys don't throw girls up against trees to ravage them.” Narrowing his own eyes he leaned down more into your face, feeling his breath dance along his skin as he questioned the word ravage. It was your turn to smirk as his face fell flat. “Oh, so if that wasn't my first kiss you're saying you would have had the restraint not to do anything more?”

His silence almost made you laugh, both of you knowing Jon had no rebuttal to such an accusation.

But it was now as you slowly walked through the snow looking at the remains of once was, and you once more could envision exactly what had taken place here. You knew too well what war looked like and it was easy to see how such a simple village was left in tatters and the remains frozen in time to remind of the pain. If any but him had been left alive, they ran and never returned to this place.

The homes were all small and quaint, much of the decaying remains of tools and lands told you much of their lives and work were outdoors together as a community instead of singular. It made it easy to target, and you knew that's why it would have been picked. It was a village of innocent people and such an atrocity was supposed to draw the Nights Watch out, as was the attack on Mole's Town.

Slaughter innocents to draw the good men out to avenge them, but they knew better and forced the wildling group to them instead. A fight which beyond North was stopped before it ever began with the help of the Baratheon army, but it was Jon's leadership that held off the entire fight from ending before it begun with the ones coming south.

But, that didn't mean the cost of getting them there wasn't devastating.

By the time you had seen Olly, you had such an imagine painted that you knew only agony would be across his heart once reaching where he stood. His back to you as there was one area he hadn't moved from since you arrived, and his eyes likely rarely blinked looking to it. Not easy to see through the snow and ice covering, but it was the remains of bodies. Winter had encroached on them early and what should have decayed to bones was left stuck frozen and the evidence of their use haunting.

No doubt he heard you approach, but it was his pain to address, not yours to guide. You dared not think about how long he had been here waiting, or the heaviness in your heart at how he knew you would come without question. Coming up to his side, you stood close and watched as he did. He had told you what the threat one of them made was, and the degree of mutilation you knew in some mercy was done after death. Easier to carve into a body to eat if they aren't alive to fight back.

You were both quiet for a long time, and when words finally spoke, it was with a shaking breathe stemming from such a heavy heart did Olly finally find the right words to form. “He wasn't the first person I killed.” Your face didn't shift at all, but he knew to elaborate anyways. “Jon. He was the first that meant anything to me...but I killed someone before. The woman who killed my father.”

His eyes were filled already with tears wanting to fall and no doubt the crack in his voice as he continued, threatened to extend to such watering. “None of us knew they were even there until she killed him. Fell to the ground right beside me, he was already dead before I even knew what had happened to him..and then I looked over and saw her..there was nothing. Nothing in her eyes, she shot him in the neck and didn't even care one bit about it. Just moved on to everyone else..”

Stepping forward, Olly knelt down to the frozen pile as you stepped with him, kneeling as well to stay right by his side with a dutifully quiet listening. “The last thing my mother ever said to me, she just looked at me yelled for me to hide, kept telling me to hide and the second I ran..I didn't see them do it but I heard her scream..”

His hand reached out to something, running over the snow before dropping down now as the tears let themselves fall loose along his cheek. “They attacked us at Castle Black and I shot arrows into her back. I was scared the whole fight..but then I saw her, holding an arrow up and she was going to kill Jon..but then he saw me, and he trusted me to do it. He trusted me to save his life that night, and that was how I repayed her. I wanted her to know what it felt like, the way my father died not seeing it coming..but it didn't hurt. It didn't feel bad not the way it felt when..” His cracked voice fading away, you both knew the words going unsaid.

You looked over to him, eyes flickering away narrowed in thought before looking back. You knew Olly could see you were looking at him, but you didn't beckon him to face you. “I didn't know anything about the first man I killed.” His brows narrowed but he wiped at his tears with the back of his hand but more came anyways in small, silent drops. “Didn't know his name, who he was, barley what he looked like.” Finally his head turned to yours, and there was a long passed distance in your eyes fading out. “I shoved a dagger into his neck and after he fell to the ground, I never thought about him again.” Asking why, you inhaled before looking back to the sight in front of you both.

It had been a long time since you thought about what happened that day. It felt like nothing compared to the ones which followed suit. “They attacked us first. Lord Stark, his men, we were all attacked in the streets of the capitol and the only people we killed attacked us first. They killed three of his own guard that day, men I knew for years. They attacked us, and after I killed one of them another shoved a spear through Lord Stark's leg and everything after that only ever got worse. I didn't think about the fact that I had killed someone until after we had won our first battle. I never thought about that man again after everything else I did. Until right now.”

The winds around you two blew quietly, brushing your exposed faces with dustings of snow picked up from the ground and flying through the air to a new destination. “You were defending yourself.”

“And you were defending Jon, and avenging your family.” Olly exhaled shakily, before nodding a bit. “We all do bad things, but those bad thing's aren't all equal in nature. You don't feel bad for killing her because you were righting the horrible wrong she did to you. But you feel bad for what you did to Jon, because you always knew that was wrong.” He didn't move away as you slowly let your hand sit comfortingly in the middle of his upper back, “We can't pick and choose what we feel guilty for, but the ones that we do is what defines us. You aren't a bad person because you don't feel guilty for killing her, and you aren't one for being forced to kill someone because Ser Alliser made you. People have done far worse in this world then you'll achieve in your lifetime.”

The winds sat between you once more until his voice was but a whisper, “You said that I didn't need to forgive them for what they did..but I would have to learn to live with them..” You nodded, waiting for the detached thoughts to assemble together in his mind. “I don't know if I'm ready for that..but if I stay at Castle Black I'll never know.”

“We can only try. I'm not asking you to make promises, only that you do your best and tell me when it's getting difficult.” Moving your arm across his shoulders, you pulled him more into your side, running that hand up and down what you could reach of his upper arm. “That and perhaps not to get too friendly with knives when alone with the King.”

Olly choked out a laugh as he leaned into you with an exhaustion. You both sat for a good while, as the boy found no energy in him to move anymore. “The snow is too heavy to bury them.”

Nodding, your voice was soft, “So we burn them. Do your mother and father one last thing, and not leave them here like this. We won't leave them to come back when the storm does.” Olly didn't move to get up, but he nodded his head. You wouldn't get up until he was ready. It was his parents he was looking for, and until he was ready to look away once he found them the two of you would sit there.

“Why do you want me around? After what I did..”

A smile easily sat gentle on your face, pulling him a bit closer. “I could ask you the same question.”

Olly's answer though, smacked right into your heart almost making you want to feel those tears sting behind your eyes. “My mother would have liked you.” You didn't need him to elaborate, you understood that with a tightening in your heart right away. Your eyes now watering without letting them drop.

Whispering in a strained silence only for him, “And she wouldn't want you to spend the rest of your life punishing yourself for a mistake. So I won't either.” Prompting him to stand as soon as he found the strength to sit back up properly, “Now we give them a proper funeral, and tomorrow you start fresh.”

No one helped you both, but you had given Theon a shake of your head when he moved to ask and he told the rest to leave you both be. He had told you that boy admires you, but Theon watched and came to the same conclusion you previously did. That maybe, you were just the closest thing to a mother Olly had left. Theon also didn't say it, but he certainly noticed how easily acting as one, fell upon your shoulders.

Certain things were undeniable sore spots for many of you now, and breaching such topics tended to mostly be spat between the two of you in jokes. It was easier to cope with what had happened to both of you if you joked about it, but certain ones he still didn't know how to bring up. It didn't pass your notice or Theon's that neither of you came anywhere near any kind of joke or insult coming close to a topic remotely sexual.

You two never had any actual attraction or interest. It was always from jokes in origin. You were pretty and innocent but short tempered and rigid. Theon was older, had a mighty appetite for women and knew you heard every time he snuck girls and whores into his chambers. He'd make a pass at you, you'd refute it with a clever comment and thus back and forth it became a game of wits to who could out sass the other.

Sex was just something you both were opposite about, and it made joking about it between you both far easier then Theon would ever get along with other girls. You never wanted him, he never wanted you and so flirting with you was safe, beacuse you both knew it meant not a thing. Jon had once joked, asking you if you shared that small corridor with Theon, how did you still know so little about sex. All three of them, Jon, Theon, and Robb all laughed at how flustered and offended you got. Saying you didn't actually listen you just heard it incidentally.

But, not once did anything close to subjects like that come up anymore. Not in jokes. Not towards you, and not about Theon's activities. Or lack thereof, now. You and Maester Wolkan were the only ones left who knew about it. Wolkan needed to know, he was the Maester of Winterfell now under Jon and when discussing his health, it had to be known. But you, not once did you ever bring it up. And he was grateful for it.

You weren't there for what happened to him, and he was glad of it. It was an indescribable memory that he some days couldn't piece together. He had meekly begged Ramsay to kill him after, and for a long time he still wished he would. But it got, not easier, but he had learned to cope with it as it would never change. Then Ramsay showed him you in the dungeons.

Theon knew why he was to be the one to serve you in Winterfell. Ramsay wanted him to get used to being around you, so that it would be a horrible shock the day he was dragged into what was being used as your chambers. And the sickening image he recalled, the extent of how violent it had gotten. Images that haunted Theon to the present. It was first night Ramsay made you and Theon watch each others eyes as he did what he did to you. And he only dragged Theon to watch the more Ramsay's appetite for cruelty towards you grew.

He purposely didn't tell Jon about a lot of the things done to you. Really, he had told Jon the truth of what happened to you, but he didn't tell him anywhere near the worst of it. He didn't know how to say it, and Theon knew that you still hadn't told Jon the worst of it, either.

If Theon were to be honest, it was clear that had Jon known the true extent of vile things Ramsay had done to you, he would've beaten him to death in the courtyard that very day they reclaimed Winterfell.

They weren't sights he liked looking back on, he knew it was to torture you as much as it was to torment Theon but it certainly stuck in his mind in the worst way possible. Ramsay had once mocked him about when men lose an arm or a leg and getting a phantom itch where it used to be. Asking if he would feel it now when seeing a naked girl, and he decided it seemed to test such a question out on you.

But he didn't feel that, he didn't look at you in that manner before, and now still he didn't see anything any mind could attain something good from, only horror. It wasn't until Winterfell too, did Theon for the first time find a reason to be thankful for being cut as such. Ramsay's voice so clear in his mind as he was forced to watch one night. You had been in a mood, and thrown a small mirror at Ramsay that smashed into pieces. So the Bolton stripped you down bare and let the broken shards cut into you as he did what he did, grinning at Theon the whole time.

“Maybe once upon a time, I would have made you do this part Reek, have you bond with my bride.”

He wouldn't be able to even look Jon in the eye had it come to that. He didn't know if he could even live with himself if he was to do something like that. He was Ironborn, rape and raid and all as such but that wasn't who Theon was in his blood, and that wasn't the man Eddard Stark raised him to be. So in that very home he once foolishly thought was the true prison, had to stand and watch it happen to you and be selfishly thankful that he was so mutilated that he wouldn't be able to be forced to help.

It was easy for you to joke about things before. What he did before Ramsay, it was so long passed that the transgressions were all but gone in your eyes. To you, if you both joked about it, people wouldn't look at him as if they should still hate him. He still wasn't sure how to thank you for that, nor if you would even want that. Very likely you would tell him to be quiet and go do something else if he tried to thank you.

You two used to hate each other too. Terribly hate one another. Your first week in Winterfell after Theon had been there, and as soon as he realized you were the daughter of Stannis Baratheon did he ever ramp up how rude he was. Didn't matter to him that you were younger and short and a girl, you were the daughter of the man who destroyed his uncle's fleet, and you had a smart ass mouth that he wanted to punch.

He could still see back one day he, Robb, and Jon were attending to something in the stables when you had thrown the door open and threw something at him hard. Jon had to grab him to stop him from instinctively going to hit you back, as you had yelled at Theon for something he now couldn't even recall. He yelled back and soon everyone came to see what was wrong, you got flustered at the attention, shoving passed everyone to leave when the amount of eyes grew. Robb left to go calm you down and shoved Theon into the wall in frustration as he passed.

Lord Stark had later, made you both sit down in his study side by side to force you both to grow up. He had told you that you could not come in and let your temper out on people and if you needed to have an outlet, “Pick up a practice sword in the training yard, and don't return until you're sure you aren't going to try to stab Theon with it.”

On his own, Lord Stark had told him to ease up on you. Robb and Jon had known you for six years at that point and were very close, they knew you well enough to tease. But also that while all three of them were verging on men, you had only recently had your fourteenth name day, that you were still little more then a child. Theon had grumbled, “Doesn't talk to me like one...”

But the man had only chuckled, he too had known you for those same six years and had watched you slowly grow out of your shell tremendously from that very first month. “I'm not asking you to be friends with her, I'm telling you that you both will need to find a way to tolerate the other's existence. You both will be working closely together from now on, and I'd rather not assign a guard to watch you both every moment of the day.”

He had gone back out to the yard, where you and Robb had started to spar. Trying to get your worked up energy out on something useful, and there you were laughing and smiling the more you and the eldest Stark would go. He would compliment how much better you had gotten, and he saw nothing of the bitter, dry and sarcastic little bitch he had initially thought you of.

Now however, watching you with the guard from afar, your eyes soft as your expression was the same harsh and still as ever, but you had your arm comfortingly around Olly, who was leaning into you with shaking shoulders Theon knew were tears. And not for a second did you try to make him feel better or even tell him it would be okay. You were exactly what the boy needed you to be in that moment. This was the village that was ruined in seconds and you stood with him in the cold snow as long as it took for the fire to take what was left of the frozen bodies of his parents and home.

Olly didn't talk to much of anyone as you all made your way to Winterfell. No one asked why an orphan boy from the Night's Watch was leaving there with you, and if the space given to you both as you came into the courtyard said anything, they were smart enough to not speculate either. It wasn't anything they would guess, you were certain of that. No one guessed it, and some days neither you nor the boy himself could believe what led him here.

But there was one thing to do, once you got him settled, notably getting him used to his quarters and around the castle as if a mother would, but if he was to be here, there was one person he needed to talk to. And he had avoided that conversation since the day he ascended the steps from the Ice Cells.

It was the Lord Commander he helped murder, but now it was the King in the North he was to answer too. But as you made your way to give them privacy, Olly had hesitated to speak up asking you to stay before realizing it was not his place. Jon however, caught it well and nodded for you to stay with not a shred of ire or blame in his eyes.

You'd seen the raging red and intense violence that could brew in Jon Snow's eyes but not for a second was such emotions and aggression directed at a child. That wasn't who he was, he in his blood without having to even try, was the man always on the front to protect the innocent.

Including the innocence of a child manipulated into doing something monstrous.

Samwell Tarly could recall a day when one of his brothers had asked him if he had ever dreamt of being back home since arriving at Castle Black, and his answer was blunt as he could have made it. “No, I hated it there.” And it wasn't anywhere near a lie, but it was so much more complicated then that.

No matter what good remained in his memories of home, it was still a place that he resented. He resented the torment, he resented being forced to leave, and he resented that he had to leave a second time all because once more his father refused to see anything worthwhile in him.

He had introduced himself that first day in Castle Black, as if it meant anything to those already looking at him with judging amusement in their eyes. Told to let them know what his name was, and he gave the proper greeting he was raised to introduce himself as only the shaking nerves made it sound pathetic as he spat it out, and rambled further.

“Samwell Tarly, of Horn Hill. I mean, I was of Horn Hill..I've come to take the black..”

Only to have the first thing he heard from any of their mouths, was the spitting Rast laughing to himself, “Come to take the black pudding,” Truly in those first few days Sam was sure his life had gone from one kind of bad to a new without anything to look forward too. Ser Alliser mocked him, encouraged others to mock him, and looked forward to making his recruits knock him into the dirt.

One had stood up in his defence, angry and shoving him away from them all once he grabbed him off the ground. Fighting against the rest of them when Ser Alliser demanded it, and turned around scolding him that it wasn't about to get easier. It was the first time someone had truly come to Sams defence without any expectation in return, and it was a bit off putting to Sam how rough and stern he was about it though. He was so sure, when he was assigned as the mans watch partner up on the Wall, that he hated him, and would rather have nothing to do with him.

Part of it was not being comfortable around such heights, but when he was told to come stand by the fire, Sam didn't want to. He was freezing, but standing by the fire meant having to come closer and annoy the one person who had done something nice for him, so he lied.

Only, it was never that easy trying to lie to someone like Jon Snow.

He said he was fine, and Jon without missing a beat turned to him, “You're not. You're freezing.” After that night, it got easier. A lot easier. He found people and purpose and confidence and a true bravery, he had begun to feel pride in who he had become at the Night's Watch.

But then Jon was Lord Commander, and had returned from Hardhome seeing horrors beyond anything Sam imagined once possible as a boy. Much happened at once, Jon with the intention of opening the gates to let the free folk through, but before that, had told Sam he was sending him to the Citadel.

Maester Aemon was very sick by then, and very old and Jon seemed to decide to utilize Sam's love for learning for the better. Despite the fact that Sam knew too well, Jon had next to no one left. Sure he had Ghost, he had Edd, and the large one Tormund seemed fond of him, but Jon had no family left, no home, most of his friends were dead, and half a year later, Jon still hadn't said more then a few words about you.

He wanted to stay, to not be another person forced to leave Jons life, but it wasn't Sams choice. It was Jons. And he sent him, Gilly and Little Sam to Eastwatch by the Sea anyways. After getting on a ship, it was a port stop in Bravvos with more adventures there then he ever wanted, and finally before settling into Oldtown, Sam knew he had one more stop.

He had to go back to Horn Hill.

Sam had hoped that perhaps the many years since he had left, may have softened his father's ire towards him. His mother Melessa at least, had taken one look at Sam and smiled so brightly he could have cried, a laugh at how good he looked, and how healthy he looked.

Then when introducing Little Sam, an easier explanation to hide where Gilly had come from they told his family he was his bastard son. It was less complicated if they thought he was his blood, even though at that point in Sam's life, he knew what people would think about a man of the Nights Watch with a newborn. But Melessa had adored Little Sam, not once cared for any of the implications one way or another, merely excited to have a grandchild and meet the girl who wooed her son.

Talla was so much older now, while adulthood hadn't changed much in Sam it had made his sister go from a girl to almost a woman, one of the first things from her mouth, “Father says I have to marry Symun Fossoway. He has yellow teeth-” Considering the life he and Gilly had just come from, it was almost sweet she complained it to Sam as if it were the worst to happen to her.

His father and brother were on a hunt, and for only a moment as his mother told him, it made Sam swallow in nerves. He doubted his father had ever told his wife what his plans for Sam were.

“You're almost a man now, but you are not worthy of my land and title. Tomorrow, you're going to take the black. Forsake all claim to your inheritance and start north. If you do not, then we'll have a hunt. And somewhere in these woods your horse will stumble, and you'll be thrown from your saddle to die...or so I'll tell your mother. Nothing would please me more.”

But he was doing this not for himself, he needed this to work. He needed his father to accept Gilly, accept Little Sam so they could have a life. Little Sam would have a better education then Gilly knew she could give him, still on her own reading journey she wasn't anywhere near a teaching level.

He needed his father to look past Sam's own shortcomings just this once. Let them stay, and Gilly wouldn't have to work in a brothel cleaning after women who all called her a “wildling bitch”. She wouldn't be working in Castle Black where at any time they could corner her alone, the worst of his brothers would attack her for being nothing but a woman. They would be safe.

Talla and Melessa had brought them both inside, the former sharing ideas of what guest room Gilly could have as if she had any concept of the luxury being offered. His mother warming his heart, telling him quietly that she couldn't be happier seeing her son with something so proud to look at. But then his father and brother came home.

Dickon wasn't as openly gleeful like his mother and sister, but Sam also knew that the two brothers were indeed happy about to see one another. Dickon had accepted the explanation, and begun going over things on his mind as if no time between all these years had passed. He was tall, strong, capable, and skilled just like his father but he had, like Sam, inherited their mother's kindness.

Sam also wondered, how much of why Sam left, did his father not tell his brother either?

Who knew but his father he had threatened to murder him for simply growing to be who he was? And sure, Sam all those years ago knew he wasn't proud of himself. He was a coward, he was shy, he had no idea what his purpose was, but now? Sure, he thought he was still some of those things to a degree, but now he at least knew when it came down to it, he would push forward for the people he loved. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't anywhere near enough, not for his father.

Sam preferred to read over learning to hunt, and his father hated that about him. Hated that his nose was always on a book rather then learning from whatever nightmare his father was putting him through that day. But it was the way one man at Castle Black had said those words to him, discussing how Sam wasn't a fighter like his father.

It was Stannis Baratheon who told him with a pride in his eyes and voice, as he realized Sams goal was to search the old manuscripts for answers of the threat far North.

“We have to know how to fight them. Keep reading, Samwell Tarly.”

The King who answered their call for aid, the King who still cared, had seen Sam's worth in his love of books and learning. Had not looked at him judgmentally for it, and instead seen him for something Sam could provide which others couldn't.

Yet, that night as he sat at the table with his father, mother, Talla, and Dickon, and at his own side Gilly and Little Sam, his father looked no more happy with him then the day he left. Dickon would ask what beyond the wall was like, and when Sam was honest that all of the food he had from the wild was hunted by Jon, his father found it pathetic. As if Jon being the fitter, stronger one who knew how to hunt was shameful against Sam who simply had no talent for it.

Gilly knew how to hunt, but she didn't shame him for it. Jon had hunted all of the animals the two of them ate beyond the wall and he didn't judge Sam for letting him do that work.

When Gilly had mentioned she knew how to hunt, especially rabbits, Melessa had not been phased, only knowing enough to say Gilly was from the North. “I imagine it’s common where you’re from. We once met a man, Lord Umber from Last Hearth, wasn’t it, Randyll, who said he taught all his daughters how to hunt.” Talla had been impressed on her own, looking at Gilly, “Your father taught you to hunt? Our father would never teach us. I think our father could learn a thing or two from your father.”

Agitated with the conversation, when Sam had politely went to accept bread from one of the servers, his father had dismissively scolded him, “Not fat enough already?” And it all had begun to spiral from there. “I thought the Night’s Watch might make a man of you. Something resembling a man at least. You managed to stay soft and fat. Your nose buried in books. Spending your life reading about the achievements of better men. I’ll wager you still can’t sit on a horse or wield a sword.”

Sam wanted to tell him he could ride a horse, he killed a Thenn, he killed one of the Others with nothing but a dagger made from dragonglass to protect Gilly and Little Sam. But he wasn't here to convince his father of that, and Sam could tell that Gilly wanted to bring it up in his defence, and had spoken of it before he could come up with a way to change the subject. Once the image of Gilly being North of the wall was out there, there was no hiding who she was.

Sam wasn't ashamed of it, nor did he care how people looked at him for it. But he certainly did not like how instantly, instead of making any notion of Sam breaking his vows, he had taken his ire out on him through Gilly. Randyll Tarly pointing to a shining, sharp blade. Sat on a wall mount made out of antlers, the hilt of it shaped as that of a bow and arrow with such images carved deeply into the wood surrounding it, whereas the rest of it looked little to stand out. “It’s called Heartsbane. It’s been in our family for five hundred years. It’s Valyrian steel. Only a handful of them left in the world. It’s supposed to go to my firstborn son after I die. To him.” Gesturing to Sam in the dead silence of the room, “But he will never wield that sword. If he were to become Lord Tarly of Horn Hill, it would be the end of this house. I took you for a Mole’s Town whore when I saw you and I made my peace with that. Who else would have him? But I overestimated him. No. It was a wildling whore that seduced my son.”

Turning back to his son, he was standing tall but no one else moved an inch, and everyone but him, was greatly uncomfortable as he grew more spiteful. “This you getting back at me, boy? Bring that to my table and making me dine with it. And you got what you were after, didn’t you? A bastard. A half-breed bastard.”

Melessa had stood, disgusted by his blatant hatred, guiding Gilly and Little Sam away with Talla following. Slowly leaving last was Dickon who stayed silent, wishing he had the bravery to stand up for his brother's side instead of saying nothing.

Sam was angry, however. Gilly being a wildling didn't make her any less of a person. And there certainly wasn't anything wrong with being a bastard. Jon was a bastard of the North, and was the most admirable man Sam's ever known, a far better man then the father before him.

Randyll had approached his son, now standing with a held back anger of his own looking up at the man. “Your mother’s a fine woman. You’re not worthy of her. To please her, I’ll take the wildling in. She can work in the kitchens. The bastard will be raised here. But this will be the last night you ever spend at Horn Hill.”

It was a risk, but he had left, and taken them with him. Gilly and Little Sam were his family, and they all belonged together, so they took what little they had and left in the middle of the night. Perhaps it had been childish or maybe it was the first brave act of rebellion against his father he found the courage to do, but he had taken Heartsbane with him, saying it was his families sword after all, not his fathers.

When Gilly had asked if his father would come for it, Sam said with the only pride he had.

“He can bloody well try.”

As you sat there in Maester Wolkan's study, you supposed you were lucky that no one saw what led up to it. Wrapping the underside of your forearm as you tried not to shake from the blood loss that took place as you made your way to see him in the first place. He no doubt had heard the whispers of you losing your mind by that point, but took no question that you simply said your hand had slipped. It became a problem however, when Jon had come into the room with tense eyes as he stared at you as if hiding a horrible secret.

“What happened?” His voice was tight and controlled likely a bit too much to not come off as trying to hide such intentions. Stepping closer to where Wolkan had you perched on a stool so your arm could lay flat as he previously had been stitching the worst of it.

He answered for you when you had paused with wide eyes, “Her hand slipped with a blade, she came to me before it could get out of hand.”

Jon watched how hesitant you were to speak and you both knew that he had realized why. Taking the moment he kept a more controlled volume, despite the twisting of angry worry in his face as he spoke to you instead. “Out of hand? The amount of blood I just saw-”

Wolkan kept his cool and you thanked him with a silent glance. “The wound is deep but it didn't cut a vein. It will heal easily and she got to me at the perfect time to clean and close the wound. Little things to be thankful for, sometimes.”

Inhaling deeply, Jon watched silently as your eyes nervously flickered between him and Wolkan, the later wrapping the rest of your forearm now that the worst of the bleeding had stopped. “You should come see me in the morning.” Putting away some of his tools as you pulled your arm gently into your lap. “I will want to check for any sign of infection, and regardless I will rewrap your dressings and clean it out.”

Nodding at him, you felt a strain in your chest as you raised an eyebrow at him, a silent unrelated question Jon could not see, but Wolkan only hummed quiet in an answer that spoke what none could gather but you two. Moving to politely held you stand from your perched position, but Jon had already stepped to your side, an arm wrapping around your waist to all but do the hard work for you, lifting you up and to the ground as he spoke. “I appreciate you helping her, Maester Wolkan. Thank you.”

“Always what I am here for, your grace.” It was a stroke of luck you felt that being sworn by oath to a family of monsters did not mean it made the maester for them the same. Getting to Winterfell at the captive of the Boltons and realizing they brought Wolkan with them, you knew it meant for whatever reason Luwin was gone and you dared not think what led to it or why.

There was getting used to Wolkan, but he did his best under the leadership he was put under and at the least was a little bit easier going in the time he had seen you in those months of a hell. The man was quiet but kind and very smart. On the relieving side, serving Jon seemed to bring him far more peace then years under the Boltons ever did.

You hoped that for just right now, it meant he could keep another secret just until you could ensure that secret's safety. A raven had come in for you, and after reading it's contents as you had finally settled back into Winterfell, you told him to keep the information to himself. With what you now knew, this one needed to be protected and that included ensuring it was somewhere not out of your reach and protection before revealing it safely.

Jon leading you through the quiet of the halls, you had glanced up to him from the side noting he had not moved his arm from your waist. “Do I even need to ask how it was you knew where to find me?”

Instead of what you expected, a deep chuckle vibrated through Jon's chest instead, pulling you a bit closer to his side playfully. “Next time don't choose a steward who used to be mine, and maybe he wouldn't tell me right away.” Only half a smile on your face, you almost could shake your head at the thought. You had told him to clean the blood up and not go get someone as it wasn't a big deal, but Olly had clearly not listened as soon as Jon came into the room with questions at the sight.

You didn't know what the two of them talked about, but they had been in the study for a while before coming to a conclusion, and that it was likely a little easier for Olly to serve Jon through you rather then jump back into his service as if it was just like before. A new trend in Jon's life it seemed. Getting used to someone who backstabbed him or his family though their forgiveness in you.

Continuing beside you, “He was worried about you, don't blame him.” Ensuring you didn't, Jon nodded before glancing around. Turning you with both hands at your upper arms, did he direct you to stop and face him, keeping his hold there as his grey eyes were bright but worried looking down at you. Your own hands, one wrapping around a wrist of his and the other toying along his waist distractedly. “He also said when he came into the room it had sounded like you had been screaming.”

You bit your lip but Jon didn't even blink, just a building concern swimming in his gaze that had you weak to it. Shrugging a little bit, you tried desperately to play it off. “It was nothing, he probably-” Jon more sternly murmured your name as his head tilted a bit with a sharper look as if warning you to not lie to his face about this. Quiet as you looked into his eyes before dropping them as your face fell a bit, “Last time I don't even recall getting out of bed, but I was wide awake and..I didn't even realize I had even dropped the blade across my arm until Olly came in the room..”

Olly wasn't sure to believe you when you said it wasn't a big deal, but you knew you couldn't get Jon to believe that in any capacity. Not now. His own expression falling almost a bit more upset, one of his hands came up to run along the hair at the side of your face before cupping your cheek. “Was it the same as last time?” Shaking your head no, Jon glanced down the corridor but still none were around at least. “What was it?”

There was only two you recognized this time, but it was two you had seen before in the last. One woman, a bit older then you, hair almost a silver white and a cold, yet smug look as she had cared not for the pleading. The one with her though, was the Westeros knight you had seen before but his face escaped you from knowing the name attached to it.

But the mind you found yourself in? The things which happened, and the lack of any emotion on her face but perhaps that of some enjoyment, it shocked you. Even coming out of it, it shocked you. The mind you looked through was not someone good, but there was a conflicted mess of emotions swirling in their mind.

The way he ended though, the way she let it happen? It didn't matter what occurred, there was not a thing even a man like that could've done which would have made him deserve that. Perhaps you felt so shaken, as you felt the screaming agonizing heat as he did in the seconds before your mind returned to you, blood across your arm as Olly called your name in a panic.

But trying to relay that properly to Jon? It was hard to explain. It was hard to word how terrifying it felt, the way she looked at him as he was pleading desperately for any mercy.

“Dany, please-”

Jon stared at you in a distant unnerved manner, this was the second time the same woman was at the centre of both. Looking up at him, you could feel your throat burning from the desperation and your heart racing as it recalled the fear of how uncaring she looked at him through your eyes. Murmuring your name fading into a tense quiet, Jon moved his other hand from your upper arm to wrap around your back and pull you into him.

He hadn't mentioned it, but he had seen the way you almost disappeared in the hall during the reception. The way you looked sick and terrified for only moments when he gently coaxed you back to earth before you were kept too deep into whatever it was you saw or heard. He knew trauma, and that was far more then just a memory. He didn't say it, but the way he held you close told enough, that whatever was pulling your mind here and there was beginning to scare him.

The worry that if he left you on your own too long again, what could this escalate too before you hurt yourself even more? How was he supposed to protect you from something he couldn't even slightly control? Jon knew his entire life at that point was strange, unexplained things happening to him, but they weren't supposed to happen to you. They weren't supposed to leave you looking this shaken and panicked at what you were seeing.

Muffled against him, you tried to reassure him, “We've been through a lot in a short amount of time, maybe it's only stress.” Jon shortly muttering back a question of is it, before you paused. Holding him around the back of his neck more, “No one has ever died and come back, this could be normal.”

“I saw visions of you before and they were nothing like this.” Inhaling deeply once more you could hear his voice was deep and tight trying to keep himself collected against you. “Something is doing this to you, but I don't know how to help.”

Pulling back, you found the need in your heart straining to quell the tone break in his voice. Cupping both sides of his cheeks, you hated the concern so blatantly across his eyes. “You can't protect me from everything, Jon.”

Shaking his head once, he grabbed one of your hands to twist. Pressing a kiss to your palm, “That won't stop me from trying.”

But for just a moment, the way in which his large hand gripped part of your hand and wrist did you not stand there anymore. Looking up brightly at not the man your present mind knew was in front of you, you were sitting. In a room glowing with gentle firelight as innocuous music played around you that set nothing in your mind off.

You had your hand rushing towards him in a much more playful manner when he snatched you just like this, holding it in the air just like this but a smirk across his lips and bright blue eyes tinged with a complete mischief as he pulled you a bit closer.

“Striking your King is an act of treason.”

But as soon as you could see Robb, you were back here. In the halls of Winterfell as Jon murmured your name with that same panic returning to his eyes. Instead you pulled your hands down to rest over where the carve in his heart was. You looked much more reassured then Jon did, despite the floating in your chest warning you that this was starting to happen at an alarming frequency.

Changing subjects swiftly was the safest route, which worked easily to bring him down to something simmering in his shoulders. “Come, we have a bit to do before we meet with everyone. At least have our affairs prepared before we get yelled at for it.”

Jon relaxed, chuckling again as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “This is my order, I'll be the one getting yelled at if anything.” As you both made your way down the corridor once more, you shook your head with a sigh. “I'd rather they be angry with me then you.”

“I think that ship has long since sailed, Snow.”

A smirk so much easier danced across Jon's lips as he tried his best to walk forward and not just shove you into the nearest wall. “You know that one doesn't work quite as well when it's your name too now, Snow.” His tone dropping with a playful prominence on the name as well as he glanced at you trying to hide your own smirk.

“What are you going to do, your grace?” Pushing it a little as you didn't even glance at him letting the words pass you by with a quick dryness. “Going to punish me for using our name against you?”

And with that you had snapped the restraint he held. One hand on your hip now as he shoved you into the wall roughly, his other trapping you in as his palm rested on the stone wall beside your head, leaning close enough so your world vision was hidden with his curls. Grey eyes dark, looking down you with not a shred of shame for it before following it back up. Not even with a smirk, almost just a raw, dark, frowning lust that he couldn't contain. Like he did these things without any thought behind it.

The hand on your hip tightening, “I should punish you for taking my name in the first place.” Stepping closer he could almost press his hips into yours should he take a step more, as you felt the hand on your hip fisting the skirt of your dress as it raised slightly. His breath stuck hot against your skin, taking another step, feeling a teasing press of his hardening cock that almost made your mind beg and plead to just open your legs for him now, regardless of how anyone could see. The hand beside your head drifting down to your hair and raking his way through to the back of your neck, he tilted your head up to meet his eyes gently.

Your voice but a high pitched whisper as the blood in your veins sparked you like a spreading fire. “Too bad my King has a meeting with his high lords to prepare for. Not nearly enough time for that.”

You didn't mean it as a challenge, but you should have known better. You were in the hall where any could pass by, but as Jon pressed you up against the wall anyways it didn't matter. His hands grabbing your wrists and yanking them up above your head, switching to hold you there with one larger hand as the other yanked your dress up for him, his lips attacking yours rough and deeply.

As soon as he felt your bare skin under his touch, his mouth moved to your jaw and neck with sloppy kisses but rough bites as he rasped in you ear. “My men also expect their King to fuck an heir into his beautiful wife. I'm doing my duty.”

Shivering in his touch your fingers flexed wanting to reach out to him, voice barley there as his mouth continued to bite into your neck, his fingers of his other hand drifting under the soft fabric hiding you from his touch. “Is that all this is?” Holding back a high gasp as his fingers drifted down to run lightly along your wetness, “Not a very appropriate way of doing such a duty, my King. Where anyone could find us.”

Pulling back, his eyes darkening to a black as he stared you down, finding your clit with the wetness on his fingers as you jumped. The hold on your wrists tightened as you did so. Jon rubbing tight, rough circles into it and breaking your resolve as you melted into his touch. “Maybe they should find us.” Your lungs tightened as you opened your mouth to cry out as the pleasure burned into the roughness of your clit as he was relentless of the pace. Mouth trailing up to your ear as he roughly snapped his teeth into it as he hissed, “Make sure I'm doing right by my new wife and watch me take you apart. I'd have showed off how good you are for me on our wedding night, if it didn't also mean any of them had to touch you as well.”

Letting the touch on your clit slide down, Jon sunk those same two fingers deep to the knuckle inside of you with no hesitation, the heel of his palm roughly rubbing into the sore nub sparking you to cry out loudly. Jon capturing you lips with his to muffle whatever echo was left in you.

Running firmly along the sensitive wall inside of you, you arched into his touch as much as you could. Letting his lips steal your whine of his name into his mouth, and returning such a gift by sliding his tongue into yours.

Thankful the thin material was still there, collecting the otherwise unseemly evidence of how wet Jon's fingers were being soaked as your hips tried desperately to grind into his touch. The hand keeping your wrists above your head slipping down finally, grasping the side of your face near your jaw as he kept your mouth firmly against his.

Licking along your tongue with greed as he increased how deep and fast he fucked his fingers into your soaked core. Your hands raking through his curls in an instant as Jon pressed his hips firmly into yours before moving to grasp over your dress at your breasts, groping tightly before finding the collar of your dress and slipping under the fabric.

His fingers inside of you moving fast and soaked as you felt the coil twisting and begs for mercy unheard in Jon's kiss but how roughly he grasped, twisted and almost tugged on your nipple under you dress had you gasping desperately. Jon's incessant touch pulling you right over that line and your orgasm flooded between your legs as he still kept himself tasting inside of your mouth. As soon as you arched up and seized, the feeling washing across your veins and limbs with a cry as it snapped inside of you, your own hands reached down.

Hands almost shaking and fumbling as you tried to work past his layers as you still clenched around his fingers with a bit of a jump at the aftershocks still hitting your core from your orgasm. Pulling from your mouth Jon looked down to your hands before leaning to nudge your nose with his, taking over for you with much more ease even with one hand. Only undoing enough that he could reach into his breeches and pull his cock out.

Jon pulling from your wetness and two fingers soaked, he reached up so they sat obscenely at your lips before pushing them just as deep to the knuckle despite your whine, moving to sloppily kiss back along to your ear as his other hand yanked your dress up enough to manoeuvre under it. Almost looking back at you for a moment as he let you suck, before he pulled them from you and once more kissed you. Your tongues sliding along the other as he much more freely groaned at the heavy taste on his own tongue.

But just as you grasped at his shoulders in need, Jon yanked up one of your legs to rest at his hip, pushing you more into the wall just as he slid his cock deep inside you. Your cries in his mouth almost painful as the thick stretch burned but you arched into his touch. His hand on your thigh as the material slid down your leg and almost exposed what Jon was doing, holding it up tight at his hip as he fucked up roughly inside of you with a grunt.

This wasn't a fuck made to last, his pace was fast and he was rough and pounding where you could hear how soaked you made is cock in an instant. His free hand cupping your jaw as he pulled back to look at you, teeth almost gritting as his eyes black watched you try desperately to hold back any sound.

His cock burned you, made you want to scream and run from the pain of how long and thick he slid inside you, but the pleasure taken from you left you unwilling to fight back and raking through his curls tightly. As if all you knew to do was take it. Jon's eyes were dark as he looked down at you, each pound of his cock jostling you as he wished he could strip you bare then and there to watch better.

On the contrary though, his deep tones washed over with something so bright and soft as he looked at you, “I love you so much..” The degree to which you clenched around him had Jon bury his head in your neck to hide his own groans. Your hands gentle now through his curls as his cock rutted deeply into you.

Nodding into him, your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders and up into his hair, your voice weak as your lungs held no air trying to keep any cries from your words and little able to come out as a result, “I- fuck, I'm yours..”

Another groan as he picked up the pace and slammed his cock inside of your soaked cunt at a rough and fast pace before biting deeply into your neck. Nodding into his biting, Jon yanked the leg at his hip up high and shoved you more against the wall at a better angle to fuck up inside you, but completely exposing how deeply he was fucking you should anyone walk by the side where your dress was slipped down.

You shook at how it almost felt as if Jon wanted someone to come by and see what he was doing to you. Yet unbeknownst to why, Jon desperately did. He never had this inclination before, but his new life with you, buried inside you, Jon was consumed with a few dark desires. One of them almost challenging his men to watch what they could never give you.

He hated how depraved of thoughts they could become. Jon pounded into you harder at the images in his mind taking over. What it would be like, having you pressed against the wall just like this, but making you face away, your back pressed against his chest and instead Jon would pull his head from your neck, rest his forehead against the back of your hair and watch his cock sink deeply into your ass, and how much the plush skin of your cheeks would bounce at the force.

Jon didn't think he knew how to ask you for that. You weren't some whore that men paid for, you were the woman he loved more then anything, his wife. But he couldn't stop himself as he fucked you fast against the wall. How filthy would it feel to spill deep inside your ass, or how much he wanted to lay you out, and shove his cock to fuck between your breasts after marking them up all for him with his lips and teeth.

He had no idea why he was consumed with thoughts like this, but the way you grasped at him, clenched around him and let him fuck you as if you were designed for his lips and cock alone, was doing something to his desires he never knew about before.

You hid in his shoulder, weakly crying his name as you suddenly came around him. The coil snapping after twisting so burning tight as you were pulled up to meet his lips. Jon biting and kissing you deeply as you came around him, before you felt his cum. Thick and hot as he spilled deeply inside of you, grinding deep until you clenched around him in too much shocking stimulation.

He shushed you with gentle kisses as you whined as he pulled out. Putting your leg back down gently, and cupping both of your cheeks tenderly with a kiss as he put both of your clothes back where they belonged. It was quiet between you both for a moment, gently tracing your noses along the other as you smoothed out the curls you had raked though until you felt your heart slow and world return to your vision outside of Jon.

Leaning up to give a tiny kiss, you looked back. His grey eyes bright with a smile charming off his face as you almost grinned back with a beam. “Now we are certainly going to be late.”

You honestly could have rolled your eyes, if he hadn't captured your lips in another kiss as Jon muttered, “Oh, I'll make sure of that.”

These Starks thought they were so terribly clever didn't they?

It was not an easy thing to do, making a Northern man cry. Reputation made people think that they never did because they couldn't. Unemotional and cold in heart as the winter around them, but in truth it simply was just held inside them securely.

It had been the first time in a long time that he cried, the day Howland Reed learned of Eddard Stark's death.

His son Jojen had seen it, he had the Sight. With no reason to doubt what his son had said, it hurt him greatly to realize he was the last of them. Everyone that had played a pivitol role in some capacity in Robert's Rebellion and all of them but him died before their time. But then again, they all had before their final days anyways.

Something in a lot of them died near the end of that war and no one had quite found a life beyond it, in a way they all were trapped in the rebellion twenty five years later until the last of them died too. Jon Arryn had been first. The brave man who had to make the hard choice of rallying his bannermen against the Mad King, died of a fever, but Howland knew better. He knew Ned would have known better as well.

Then it was Robert, the most obvious of them all. Robert had never lived passed learning that Prince Rhaegar Targaryean had kidnapped Lyanna Stark somewhere along the roads near Harrenhal. He became angry then and he stayed angry until his last day no doubt. He was a wild card, especially when contrasting him to the man Ned Stark used to be. Even looking past a man dedicated to the wife he loved, it was not in his nature to be like Robert.

Robert had bastards all over the country. The ones in Kings Landing were dead, but there were more out there. A man who drank and whored to that degree? Stones, Flowers, Waters, he likely had at least one in all of the Kingdoms. Most of them would just never know it. He could recall it was that nature which she hated.

Lyanna knew who Robert was at his worst, and the simple fact was she also knew that was a life many highborn girls would find themselves fated too. Rare for a highborn girl to have a husband like the way Catelyn Tully had eventually found love in Ned Stark. But in those days, Lyanna's prospects were looking at a lifetime of being insulted by her husbands infidelity.

Ironic, he thought.

But, it never got any better for Robert. He thought he loved Lyanna when he hardly knew a thing about her, and it was that thought which made him angry realizing what Rhaegar had done. And when Ned Stark came back from the war and she was dead? He stayed angry.

Howland only knew bits and parts of the story some from Ned, much from what Jojen could see but it wasn't pretty. Rhaegar Targaryean had been dead for twenty four years and Robert hated him as much then as he did that day they learned what he had done. He wished Baratheons were made a little more of what Northerners were. Just keep some things inside.

But, it was Ned Stark who Howland Reed cried for. Not many knew how deep their bond ran and none but the two of them knew why. They didn't often have the chance to see one another after the rebellion, and even less when Howland finally had his kids but they spoke in writing still. Just not willing to leave his home when he had them. Finally through the horror, Meera and Jojen were Howland's blessings and he missed them terribly.

He knew why they had to go, why they had to go to Bran Stark and now Howland could only hope that somewhere beyond the wall his children were still alive. But, Ned Stark still wasn't and it ate away at him since the years the Lannisters took his head. He hadn't come out since then. Ned died and Howland hid in his Keep in Greywater Watch, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he couldn't anymore. He didn't know what would do it, but he knew it was coming.

But then he'd remember he was the last one. Not just of the men of those days, but the last one who knew. What was he to do with that information, he knew much many didn't. Much that Ned knew, much that Lyanna didn't want people to know and a lifetime of keeping it all inside making him turn inward at how stonewalled he needed to be to contain them.

But there was only one secret that mattered, one that was why Ned Stark had spent the rest of his life trapped within the traumas of rebellion. The reminder of that truth was there for him every single day and when it wasn't he was in a place that served to haunt him with what would happen should the worst come out. Come be Hand of the King Robert said, come to the place your brother and father burned alive trying to demand safe rescue of your sister.

Come witness a place that terrified him to have such a secret be in. But he kept that secret as far North as he could get once those days came knocking. It was all he could do to keep that secret safe still.

It was late at night as Howland finally left. Travelling on his horse along the Kingsroad. Winter was everywhere now, and it didn't slow him one bit. His horse would have to freeze and die to slow this journey down and even then he would keep going. Someone had to keep that secret safe and Howland was all that remained so he had to show his face. But it was along the road that he relived it. He and Ned's reason for why they became the men they were and the complications of what it all meant.

Still now he could recall how in one moment a young girl off in the distance had spotted what was happening, and how as quick as he saw her did she come to his aid. The girl likely no older then fourteen or fifteen, came to the aid of Howland who was even then, already a man. He had been jumped by boys over six years his junior in the roads towards the Tourney of Harrenhal. But, Howland Reed was small and quick. Not large and strong. They were though.

Yet that young girl with black hair and grey eyes came jumping to his defence without a second thought, using only a dull tourney sword to try and chase the boys attacking him off. How she that day brought him to her lair, as she had jested calling it, to get her brothers to help treat his wounds. He met all four Starks that day.

Brandon was the eldest, tall and handsome and had a quick wit and hot temper just as he had seen on the she wolf who rescued him. Benjen was the youngest, only a few years beneath Lyanna in age but laughed easily and held a maturity Howland admired. Offering him armour and a horse, saying if he wanted to get back at the boys who beat him he'd be happy to provide them.

He could still recall the way he and Benjen teased how quickly from a feirce defender Lyanna went, to a watery eyed girl. Hearing a sad song from the beautiful singing voice of Prince Rhaegar, and how she poured her drink on her brother for making fun of her. It was funny then, beacuse it was such a childishly little girl reaction.

It wasn't funny now looking back on it.

Beacuse she was a child. Howland was close in age to the Prince, so it made what followed after all the more horrifying. A pretty, feirce, rebellious maiden did not come to his rescue. Lyanna was just a hot tempered but caring and loyal child. Only a child.

But, he met one more Stark that day. Eddard Stark was the second eldest brother, not quite as well liked and charmingly handsome as Brandon, but more quiet and serious. Howland liked him right away. He liked all four of them he met that day, but he and Ned remained friends with a true ease from that moment onward. A friendship, that all these years later, still felt difficult to accept the end of.

They hadn't known each other for a lifetime, but it was Howland Reed that was trusted with the one thing which would remain only between them for the rest of their lives. And Howland never once wavered in how seriously he took that secret to heart. He could see that secret as clear as he could see that day he met the family of wolves.

It was warm that day. So warm in Dorne that Howland hated it. The sun bore down on them as they travelled, the seven of them, and not a clue what they were walking in on. Not really. The Prince's Pass was their destination, a circular tower standing high in the sky against the backdrop of the Red Mountains. There was hardly anything around it. It was chosen on purpose of course.

One could get to it from Harrenhal without much difficulty and yet it was isolated. Where if they ran from it, where would one go were these sands not their home? It felt like an insult towards Elia Martell to keep a teenage girl in the tower she gifted to her husband, but it also felt like a way to force the girl into relying on who she was trapped with. Even if she escaped, where would she go on her own?

There were seven of them though, and he saw all clear as day. Eddard Stark was at his limit of what he could put up with. Robert Baratheon killed Rhaegar at the Trident, The Mad King was dead and yet all who died gruesomely were still gone. Everyone knew what happened no matter what Tywin Lannister later claimed. He had ordered his knights Ser Gregor Clegane and Ser Amory Lorch to find and kill Elia Martell and her children.

The mountain had ripped the still infant Aegon from his mothers breast and smashed his face against the wall so hard that only blood and bone remained to him. Then dripping in his blood, he had raped Elia before splitting her in half with his greatsword. In the same royal apartments, hiding under her fathers bed, little Rhaenys had been dragged from under it by Lorch and brutally stabbed over fifty times.

And all Robert could say were that they were “dragonspawn” and cared not for dead, innocent children soley because they were Rhaegar's. Ned had argued with him at how disgusting his lack of care was and left Kings Landing alone. Meaning thankfully, Robert was no where near the Tower of Joy that day.

Martyn Cassel, Theo Wull, Ethan Glover, Mark Ryswell, Willam Dustin and of course, Eddard Stark and Howland Reed. Seven good men, skilled men who were as serious as any Northerners and as determined as the brother who was there for the sister still kept away from him.

There were three in the distance. Their white cloaks blowing in the wind, they had not the threat of being out numbered and all knew why. They were there on orders and not once in the war left, it was insulting. Their vows as knights not more important then the thing they were there for, to keep a girl hostage. But, they were Kingsguard, and dangerous ones too.

On one side, Ser Oswell Whent was knelt down on one knee, sharpening his blade with a wetstone. On the other was Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, who stood with his greatsword, Dawn, hung over his right shoulder, a sad smile sat on his face.

Between them was Ser Gerold Hightower, The White Bull and commander of the Kingsguard who stood tall and stern between them. The men all stood at attention as Ned Stark stepped forward first, trying to find any peace when all knew there would be none. Were there going to be peace, they wouldn't be here in the first place.

Ned stood as tall as could be, and as calm as he managed. “I looked for you on the Trident.”

Ser Gerold was the one to respond, taking proper command of the situation for as long as it was leading to the inevitable. “We were not there.”

Beside him with all the confidence that felt both true yet unearned, Ser Oswell spat out “Be the end of the usurper if we had been.” Howland recalled thinking if they considered Robert a usurper, then perhaps they should have done their duty and worked to prevent such a thing from happening, but they either did not have such clarity or were blinded by their own hubris.

His face squinting harshly in the bright sun that was a mixture with the anger and impatience building within him, Ned continued past the offence. “When Kings Landing fell, Ser Jaime slew your King. Your Prince lays dead now at the Trident, and I could only wonder then where you were.”

But Ser Gerold defended their failures of duty as if it was an excuse which mattered to any here. “If we had been there, Aerys would still sit on the Iron Throne, and our false brother would burn in all seven hells.”

It was only after that day, did Howland recall that and he wondered to himself on the journey North, perhaps the Kingsguard were not noble knights to be remembered as brave and valiant, if the final legacy they left behind was this.

Ned had only one plea and all knew it wouldn't work, but he would give them that option no matter what. “The Lords and Knights of the Seven Kingdoms have bent the knee in their defeat. There is none left for your orders to follow.”

Ser Arthur had moved to take his helmet into his hand, a firm but sad look of a man sure of who he was and what he was doing. “Our knees do not bend easily.”

Beside him Ser Gerold only added to their fates. “Nor do we flee our duty. We are Kingsuard. We swore a vow.”

But all men there, the three standing in the way of the tower and the seven against them all knew what vow it was they were still defending. As each remaining six of them came to Ned's side, weapons in hand, Ser Arthur donned his helm finally, and spoke what was to be his last. “And now it begins.”

Eddard Stark however, spoke the truth for more then one of them that day. “No, now it ends.”

Just as the metal of their swords clashed, from the tower was heard Lyanna Stark desperately screaming, “Eddard-” as the fight ensued to get to her.

Three men against seven and all but two remained. Ned Stark and Howland Reed were the only ones who lived to see the end of that fight and it was a bloody horrid sight. But once they were dead, Ned spared not a single second as he ran up the steps of the tower to get to his sister.

Howland stayed behind for a moment, exhausted and nerves shot he looked to the men at his side fallen now and hoped and begged that they did not die in vain. It took him a moment to do so, but with heavy footsteps did he begin the climb of the tower himself.

It was dark inside, not many had been in here for a long time that could tend to much of anything. But it was what was in the air, that made Howland feel a lurch of sickness. The air was thick with the scent of blood and roses.

As he approached the door, he could hear the strained voice of Lyanna Stark in a quiet desperation, filled with a heavy love that radiated too with fear. He heard the faint pleas of her voice which was the last any would, though the door the words, “Promise me, Ned.”

Only even as Howland Reed stood outside of it, Lyanna and Eddard Stark were not alone in that room.

Winterfell was as sturdy as it had been in years. Work still being done to rebuild what was burned down and yet it was still impressive. But Howland Reed was here when he never came before. He didn't come for Robb Stark, and tried to ignore the raven from Castle Black from their once dead Queen.

He didn't answer that call of aid until he had received the news that Eddard Stark's final remaining child, his bastard son, had been crowned King in the North. Howland showed up then, and the very second he saw his face? He felt sick. As if he had never considered the truth of this secret until then and there.

Ned had watched him grow up every day of his life, but Howland had never met him until he walked quietly and unnoticed, into the meeting hall of Winterfell. Hidden amongst the other Lords. Finally understanding that he too, had not truly lived passed that day at the Tower of Joy.

But, upon the truth that Aegon Targaryean was not only living, but had landed in Westeros and had battle first on the island of Dragonstone? There was no words in Howland's mind to describe how it felt, realizing who his opponent in battle had been. Perhaps that was why he rode to Winterfell so quick.

If he had not been too cowardly to come face to face with the memory of a ghost, Howland Reed might have been there to prevent those two men from ever meeting in the first place.

From a tryst against the wall as you and Jon were making your way to the main hall of Winterfell to see to a meeting with the Northern Lords, you had not the concept in your mind of what your life days later would have become. But you also, couldn't have known how much it would make you spiral. How much it twisted your mind into something panicked that you did not recognize.

You suddenly felt without purpose that specific night, and left to go find another in case you lost all hope to keep going before finding it.

Attempts had been made for you to look as nondescript as you could manage, as the pair of you walked into the loud and bustling noise of the tavern. Evening had fallen upon the sky and those nearby in the city took refuge in some of the only entertainment they would get in these early months of winter. Men drinking, laughing and joking as they made jesting passes as the barmaid's serving them more as their nights went on.

The raven scroll had only been able to describe the building as having a wooden sign handing over the entrance of what looked like a horse reaching in the air. If what was said was accurate, they would be here if not tonight then at some point. Your hair was messy in it's looks as you had made sure not to let yourself appear as being used to much effort. The cloak around your shoulders was dark, shabby and only enough to have a hood and cover the equally as unimpressive dress as you fit mostly in with all the others.

Not a single weapon but one hidden dagger. A normal lowborn woman wouldn't be armed as such.

More than once you had to remind Olly not to call you by your title, or even name. Sat on the back of the horse he had asked you, “What am I supposed to call you then?” Thinking about it, your creativity was not quite as good as others and you told him to make one up. A few second passed as he then came up with, “Mya?” So you nodded, saying then Mya it was.

Barrowton was coming into the distance as you and Olly went over once more the covering. “I don't want any to realize who I am, we are here to be discreet. Understood?”

The sun shined low in the sky with a gold as evening fell upon you. Walking into the tavern, you both stood there looking no more out of place then any other. “What's the name of who we're here for?”

Looking around, it wasn't obvious right away if they were here. “For our purposes? They're going by the name Satin.” Olly asking you how would he know if they were here or not, you glanced over at him. “Do you know what I look like?”

Taken back, Olly's face twisted in a confusion. “Yes..”

Turning away, you nodded once. “Good. They look like that.” You knew the boy was struggling to tell if he were annoyed or amused by your dryness over the vague details you were barley offering up. But Olly had known something deeply was wrong from the moment this little journey begun.

He had come across you in a unusually uncomposed state, asking why were you looking as if you were ready to leave, despite the lateness of the hour. “Would you keep it a secret if I told you?” You had asked, and when he assured you yes, you narrowed your eyes.

“I won't tell the King this time I promise.” It wasn't his fault, but he could see a tear in your throat scratching down into your heart that left your eyes hazy as you shook yourself out of it in seconds. Clearing your throat you instructed him that he was not to tell anyone you were leaving for the next day at the least. Not knowing what to say when Olly had asked “Won't the King worry where you went?” You simply sent the boy on his way. Beacuse you didn't know how to tell him that he wouldn't just not worry.

Jon would be grateful you finally were gone.

What was it he wanted? What had he said to you? For you to leave and stop being a burden to him. Leave him alone as he wanted, even if he wanted it for good.

Sitting down, you had ordered water, bread and stew for Olly. Giving him a stern glance to the side as he almost went to speak out to attend to you in that same manner. He wasn't here as your steward, he was here because he hadn't wanted to be left behind and you didn't have the heart to say no to him.

You were leaving in the middle of the night in secret, and Olly had to promise he wouldn't say a word if he wanted to come. You didn't know when you would be returning, how long this would take, but after helping a grieving boy burn the remains of his mother and father, the least you could do was not leave him behind again.

Theon was going to be furious with you for this one.

What you didn't expect, was the sad whine in Ghost when you had finally taken off. Having been out hunting in the wolfswood, he had caught you in sight as he stood perched on a nearby cliff side looking down at you. Wishing he weren't so smart, you knew he could sense what you were doing out here and when you gently tried to call up to him, telling him to go back, that it was alright? Ghost whined, whined more when you gave him a sorrowful look, and you heard him still when you rode off.

Maybe when he got back to Jon, Ghost would pick up what happened and hate you too finally. You had done what was advised against, told Jon the truth and it seems like that truth came at the cost of whatever love was left in his heart for you. He deserved to know, not telling him was cruel, but telling him came at a great cost it felt.

You couldn't even recall the extent of how not normal your mind felt that night. The only thing screaming at you in a very specific voice that Jon didn't want you, and for whatever reason, that might have hurt you into a panic more then anything else. In Castle Black you had been scared you would ruin his life by being in it again, but now it finally came to fruition. You did ruin his life.

As you sat in the tavern, looking around for the one person left to you, you wondered if you should do Jon the courtesy, find a way to free him from his new vows, and leave him to find a better wife you always worried he would want instead. You were tired of being the one to bring him problems.

Only days ago, you had not the inkling of what a disaster one man's appearance in Winterfell would spin into. Days ago, you still thought what Jon felt for you would stay real. You still thought you made him happy, and you now felt that toxifying poison of self loathing at how wrong you were. You told Jon the truth, and your only conclusion, was that the truth made him hate you.

But as the barmaid passed your table, clucking a plate onto it it pulled you right out of the memory. Olly's eyes narrow and concerned on you, but you just grabbed whatever bread was closest on it, and pushed the plate more towards him.

Mumbling through your chewing with a lecturing look, “You're the one still growing. Eat.” But as you chewed, washing it down a bit your eyes found a figure in the distance, and it was exactly the strange reaction you wondered if it would feel. But you looked at them, as they saw you. Jon Arryn was still not wrong.

“The seed is strong.”

One drop of Baratheon blood and the two of you looked just the same here. You could only wonder as you both looked wide eyed at one another, how alone did they truly feel to have reached out to you of all people? It had been many years since that day on the Street of Steel, and you never had a good or safe reason to think you'd see them again. Pylos said they were all dead, all of Roberts bastards. And yet, this one wasn't. The one which lived, you shockingly already knew.

Gendry had travelled all the way North, to try and find you himself.

#jon snow x reader #robb stark x reader #jon snow #robb stark #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #jon snow x you #robb stark x you #jon snow imagine #robb stark imagine

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dododan · 13 days

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Forgotten Perseverance - Chapter 4

Masterpost

Prologue Previous

Katharina and her friends went on a trip to the mysterious Ebott Mountain. The teenagers wanted to see if the legends of monsters from under the mountain were true. What they didn't take into account was that some of the people who climbed this mountain never came back from it. What will Katharina discover and what price will she pay for it?

I find it difficult to tell the time at this place.... They have a completely different calendar to us up there. The night and day seem to be different too. Some strange crystals on the ceiling of the caves give off as much light as if it were the middle of the day and then dim after a while. According to Dr Gaster they reflect the cycle of day and night on the surface. He may be right, but my impression is that there are several hours difference.

17/18 August 1994. 

It was a stupid, even idiotic idea to climb that damned Ebott Mountain. But I hadn't seen it yet at first.  

The day started in the usual way. Morning wake-up call with Luna. Breakfast...  

Somehow I can't seem to concentrate on writing. So much has happened and I can't cope with it.... I can't tell anyone... Why? Because I'm an idiot! I've climbed up this FUCKING mountain! I lost everything....  

Okay... I need to calm down... Write it all down... Prove to myself that this is not a dream or the beginning of a mental illness....  I'm in too much pain for this to be some kind of hallucination.

The day passed peacefully. I told my parents that I would stir to keep Jenny company like the day before, since she was only alone with her sister. They didn't know anything against it. Peter said he used the same excuse with his parents.

None of the adults would let us go to the mountains. We had to use trickery to make our bet a reality.  

I pulled an old black mountain rucksack from the bottom of my wardrobe. I packed the most necessary things into it. A few bottles of water previously stoked from the kitchen and dry provisions - biscuits, pretzels and chocolate. It's easy to get diabetes with us. But I agreed with my friends that I would take care of the sweets and they would do the rest.

I still packed a book on astronomy in my backpack. We were planning to stay there for a few hours, so in order not to get bored I decided to take a book. I like the night sky, it is my passion. Black holes and their mysteries. The numerous theories about space-time tunnels.... I could describe these theories endlessly.  But that's not the point now.

I still hid my phone, my pocket knife in my side pocket, my diary. It's a good thing I took it with me, because I don't know how I would have coped with the flurry of thoughts. 

When I finished packing, I slung it over my shoulder, leaving the room. I was ready and excited. The trip to Ebott Mountain had filled me with excitement at the time, which dampened my fears. As I can now see not so unfounded.  

I quickly said goodbye to my parents. They didn't suspect anything. They thought I would spend the day at Jenny's. They were so absorbed in their work that they didn't pay much attention to me.

I wonder, if I had spoken up then, would they have noticed that I had left? Did they already realise I hadn't come home? Or are they so absorbed in their work and think I'm home?

I don't know. You never know with them. Work has always been important to them. Maybe even more important than me and my sister. Is that why she flaked out on this camp?

I'm finding it hard to concentrate... I'm really tired, but I have to.  

On the way up I picked up Peter and Jennifer. She left her sister in the care of an elderly neighbour - who had already looked after Bella a few times.   

From the town park, we headed to the area around the old gate next to the Community Centre, where you can walk a path through the woods to the top of Ebott Mountain. The walk through the woods was pleasant. We talked a lot - about everything and nothing. We ate sweets that I had taken with me.

We were close to the summit. Through the dense treetops I could already see the faintly painting top of the mountain in the blue sky. We had taken a break a few minutes earlier. Jennifer was not used to such exertion, so we took a rest every now and then. We had already managed to eat some of the snacks. We still had sandwiches left over, made by Peter.  

Jeny was just leaning against a tree, catching her breath. She raised her hand for a moment as if she wanted to say something, but let it go.  

"Are you seriously that out of shape?" the boy asked her. I really felt sorry for the girl, but we were so close to our destination.

I wanted to see the town of Buttmon from Ebott Mountain as soon as possible. I thought it would look great. That was my main reason for climbing the peak. Peter was doing it for the plant, and Jeny. Above all, she supported us in this bet. 

"Come on we're close now" I said. "I promise, when we're on the summit we'll take an hour's rest."

Jennifer gathered the rest of her strength, setting off along the path. I could go on and on about the beauty of the forest, but somehow I can't concentrate on it. I still have a headache, even though it's been so long.... I'm not even sure how much....  

Some time later we found the cave. It was hardly visible from the path through the dense bushes. Curious (or rather, me and Peter) we decided to check it out. No one had told us about the grotto at the top of the mountain before. Peter and I had climbed the mountain many times ourselves and somehow never came across this grotto. The bushes had almost overgrown the entrance. It looked as if no one had walked this way for a long time.  We pushed back the branches, cutting off a few with my penknife. When we got inside, we couldn't see much. Darkness shrouded the cave.

"Does anyone have a torch?" I asked, and clarity followed.    

"I may not have fitness, but I can anticipate" Jennifer replied, stepping forward. 

Torchlight illuminated the rocky corridor. There were tree roots hanging from the ceiling, but they were not long enough to restrict our visibility or interfere with our journey in any way. The deeper we descended then stalactites began to appear hanging from above. Majestic stalagmites sawing towards the ceiling, trying to merge with the stalactites to form stalagmites, massive columns of rock.  After a long time (I'm not sure how long it had been since we entered, neither of us bothered to check the time) we saw a light at the end of the corridor. Faint, but a light nonetheless. We stopped. We weren't sure if it was the exit from the cave. Some kind of breach in the ceiling or maybe a landslide. We moved slowly in that direction. Neither of us spoke. Suddenly someone grabbed me from behind. I felt someone's hand on my mouth. Hot breath on the back of my neck. A strong grip on my left hand. Painfully twisted behind my back.   

"Give me back my soul" a snarling voice whispered in my ear.

 Adrenaline went to my head. The only thing I could think of was that monster from the legends. The one that appeared in the village with the girl's body. I didn't analyse anything. I simply acted. I hit my attacker's foot with all my strength. Startled, he let go of my hand and I grabbed his hand with which he covered my mouth. I quickly stabilised my stance by bending down. It didn't even take a minute for me to flip him over my back, and my attacker landed with a bang on the ground.  

The opponent lay in front of me illuminated by the faint light of a torch.  

"Cretinous blank" I hissed through my teeth at Peter, who was reeling on the ground from laughter.  

"Don't tell me you seriously believe in monsters!" laughed the boy.  

Jeny shone her torch at us. In the dim glow of the torch, I noticed the girl rolling her eyes. Peter could be very annoying at times. At that moment I really thought I had been caught by some kind of demon. Only in my life I wouldn't admit it to him.  

"In your dreams" I said huskily, kicking up a pile of sand that had soiled his T-shirt.  

The boy stood up, shaking off his clothes. He wanted to say something, but I hit him on the head with my open palm.  

He failed to dodge the blow, so he rubbed the sore spot.  

"And this is for what?" He asked.  

"I'm checking to see if you've got something there," I commented, walking on.  "But all I could hear was an echo."

The boy mumbled something under his breath, but I preferred to pretend not to hear it. I marched along with Jeny, with Peter trailing behind us, saying that I could have treated him a little more gently. He was asking for it himself, overlapping me from behind.

The closer we got to the light the corridor started to get bigger. We found ourselves in a monstrous colossal chamber. I poked my head upwards. There was no ceiling above us. Mount Ebott was hardly a mountain.... It was more like a volcano. Or something like it. But I had never heard of there being any volcano in the area. I couldn't logically explain why our mountain didn't have a summit. After all, we had been on it so many times and never noticed a big crater?

No one in town was talking about it either. Now that I think about it, maybe it's the work of magic?

There was a tremendous amount of light coming through the opening, so Jeny turned off the torch.  

"This is..." she fell silent as if searching for the word.

"Amazing," Peter finished for her, and Jeny smiled slightly in response.

We all started looking around. We hadn't noticed the big gap in the floor before and Jeny came too close to it. She wobbled over the edge, but luckily I was close enough to grab her hand. The girl regained her balance.  

"Are you all right?" I asked panicked.  

At that moment I couldn't imagine what would have happened if my friend had fallen in there. Jeny was shaking all over. She was really badly frightened. I don't blame her. Peter put his arm around Jennifer, who was still trembling. I picked up her torch, which had fallen out of her hand. It was slightly bruised, but it continued to work. I turned it on, shining it into the hole. Unfortunately I couldn't see anything, we had too weak a light source.  

"Do you think they are there?" I asked them, trying to see something in the darkness. But as I wrote earlier I couldn't see anything. I turned back to my friends, expecting an answer.  

Jeny had calmed down a bit by now, so she moved away from Peter. 

"Maybe we should go back now?" my friend said weakly. "'If we go back now no one will know what we've done. "

"I think Jeny is right. It's dangerous" replied Peter.  

I was angry with my friends at that moment. I understood the situation from a moment ago, but nothing happened to anyone. I thought we could continue on our way.  

"Nothing happened," I said, walking along the edge. I thought I might be able to illuminate something with my torch. I was very curious about what was there. The whole cave seemed almost magical to me. I wanted to see more."We can see the rest of this room," I added, shining the torch sideways. Did I flash any bushes? How could there be any plants growing here at all.

"How did nothing happen! Jenny almost fell!" shouted an agitated boy at me.  

"Almost makes all the difference," I said, not really paying attention to what was going on around me.

"Are you kidding me?" shouted Peter. " You're only thinking about yourself again!"

I didn't really like that he was shouting at me. I didn't feel like I had done anything wrong. At least at the time, I think about it differently now.

Peter was right. I'm a very selfish person. I was the one who was always dragging them everywhere, regardless of the fact that I was causing them problems. How many times have they had to explain themselves because of me and I never even apologised to them.

Peter just wanted me to be careful. Maybe if I listened to him I would move away from the edge. The ground wouldn't have settled beneath my feet. I wouldn't have fallen here. I wouldn't have destroyed everything.

I remember feeling the ground slipping under my feet. Instinctively, I stretched my arms out in front of me trying to grab onto something. The silhouettes of my friends appeared before my eyes. Jeny... Her face frozen in terror.... Peter, who dashed to catch me. At the last moment I managed to grab onto a protruding root.

I felt gravity pulling me down and the branch slipping from my hands. I felt a strange heat spread through my body. My hands were tingling. The only thing I could make out was just one word. 

"Help" I said in a tearful voice looking at Peter. The boy put out his hand towards me.

"Grab onto me!" he shouted. 

 With one hand I let go of the vine. I tried to grasp his hand, but it was too far away. Peter leaned out even more. I tried to pull myself up on the root once more. I thought he would hold on, but I was counting. Our hands literally slipped past each other by millimetres. I was falling into the darkness.  

"NO!" I heard Peter's voice one last time.  

As I fell, I rubbed myself against some branches. Instinctively I began to scream. I don't know what purpose this had. My body broke the vines with great momentum, spinning me around. After that, I don't remember much. A hard encounter with the ground.

I think I hit the ground with my right shoulder, because I felt a huge pain there. But I felt worse in my leg. I tried to get up, but my ribs wouldn't let me. I had trouble catching my breath. I turned onto my back. I could see a faint light in the distance. I cautiously and slowly lifted myself up. I looked around the room. I was lying on some sort of bed of yellow flowers. But a throbbing headache prevented me from concentrating. After a while I heard quiet footsteps approaching me. I expected a man to help me, but what I saw left me stunned. 

A small skeleton dressed in an orange striped sweatshirt, dark trousers and a red scarf. His skull was strange... More elongated than ours. Well, and how could he move. Suddenly he turned towards me.  

"Hey, how are you feeling?" He said coming up to me.  

I didn't know what he was. Maybe he's a monster, a hallucination.... I didn't care. I quickly pulled the knife out of my bag. My hands were shaking terribly and the skeleton would stop for a moment.

"DAD!"

Then two monsters, similar to the smaller one, ran into the room.

…

My father and I ran into the Flower Chamber. We were full of fear. At the time, we didn't know who this person was. We were afraid that he might be like Brave. We didn't want anyone to get hurt.

In the middle of the room there was a flower bed on which a girl slowly stood up. She looked anxiously around to the sides. Not far from her stood Papyrus. Fortunately at a safe distance.  

The fallen girl looked at my brother, watching him carefully. As soon as we ran into the hall, she turned towards us.  

The teenage girl was lying on the ground, illuminated by a sheaf of light coming from a hole in the stone ceiling. She was smeared with earth. In some places her clothes were torn and stained with blood. Several twigs and buttercups were entangled in her hair. Her face was scored with numerous abrasions and scratches, but what caught my attention was the pocket knife in her shaking hands.  

"Hey, we're not going to do anything to you. I am Papyrus, and this is my brother and father," said Paps, approaching the girl. 

 She, on the other hand, reacted a little more violently. She quickly pulled a knife in front of her, pointing it at Papyrus. 

"D-don't come up!" she shouted in terror, raising the knife.  

 My brother immediately stopped. He didn't seem afraid of her. He wanted to help her, but I was of a different opinion. It was better to get rid of the threat right away before it caused problems. I thought my father thought the same as me.

I thought people were hateful monsters, mercilessly harming monsters. Even the sight of a helpless, injured girl didn't change my mind then.  

"My father will help you" Papyrus said softly, smiling at the girl. "Right?" he turned to our father, gazing at him expectantly.

I was hoping that my father would somehow settle this matter quickly. I looked at him, but it was hard to make out any emotion from Dad's face. Only later did I learn that he must have fought hard with himself to do what he did.

The girl also seemed uncertain. Then something happened that I would never have expected in my life. My father took a few steps towards the girl. He knelt down near her at a safe distance. The teenage girl momentarily pointed her pocket knife in her father's direction. If she had not been terrified before, she might have panicked then.  

I quickly ran up to Paps, shielding him with myself. I wasn't sure exactly what my father was up to, but I had to protect Papyrus at all costs. The youngster didn't understand why I stood in front of him. He didn't see the fallen girl as a threat.

Some of the young monsters, especially those of Papyrus' age, were too young to remember the Bravery. The younger beasts did not fully comprehend the threat posed by humans.  

"Don't be afraid," Dad said softly. With every word he said, I didn't believe what he was trying to do. "I'm not going to hurt you. I will help you, but..." I couldn't understand why my father was doing this. After all, he is the one who has suffered the most from people. How can he want to help her, I thought. Dad put out his hand towards the girl. "Give me that knife first. "

Really, at that moment I didn't believe what I was seeing.  

I didn't understand my father's actions. He later told me that he did it because of Papyrus. If he hadn't asked him he probably would have killed the girl.

She looked at him. I noticed that tears were pouring down her cheeks and that she was shaking all over. Her arms were moving up and down rapidly. Out of the corner of her eye she glanced at me and my brother, then returned her gaze to my father.  

"Do you promise?" She asked pleadingly through her tears.  

"Promise," my father said calmly. "I will help you." 

The teenager looked at the knife once more and at her father. He just waited patiently for her decision. He did not rush her. He did not add more stress to her. I knew she had no chance with him. If she had just tried something her father could have easily summoned the bones and ended it.   

The girl loosened her grip, turned the pocket knife handle towards her father. The man approached her calmly, taking it from her.  

At this point, most monsters would have killed Katharina mercilessly, taking advantage of her moment of weakness, but Dad didn't. He hid the girl's weapon in his coat pocket. He knelt down beside her on the grass.  

"These are my sons" he said, looking at us. "They won't hurt you."  

I felt like telling my father to speak only for himself. I felt it was necessary to take this opportunity to kill the girl and give her soul to the king. I refrained from doing so for Paps' sake. I did not want the youngster to think me a heartless creature.  

At the same time Papyrus came out from behind my back running up to the girl. He sat down next to her, smiling widely.  

"See? I said he would help" replied my brother, looking at Kath.  

I was more sceptical about her. I walked towards them, but didn't sit on the ground. I preferred to have some leverage over her if necessary.  

My father helped take the girl's bag off his back. He put it aside, but still within sight of the teenager. She seemed a little less frightened then, but still watched her father's movements closely. In particular when he was about to use his magic to heal the scratches on the teenager's forearm.

A purple glow surrounded my dad's hands, and his eye socket lit up with a violet flame. The girl immediately pulled her hand out of my dad's grasp. She immediately regretted it as she scowled, clutching her aching arm. She looked at her father with a grimace of pain. She didn't have to say anything as her father pre-empted her question.

"This is healing magic. I will use it to heal your wounds," said my father calmly. "Unless you prefer me to leave your arm and leg in this state?" he added expectantly. 

 He tried the same method on me. Anyone with healing magic at hand would have used it rather than let the wounds heal slowly and allow infection to set in.  

My father's remark about the girl's condition caused me to take a closer look at her. There was a huge bruise on her right forearm, indicative of a serious injury. Maybe even a broken collarbone?

Her leg didn't look too interesting either. The material of her trousers was decorated with red, which was becoming more and more intense in colour. She must have broken her leg in the fall, and the bone must have cut her muscles and skin.  

"It doesn't hurt at all," said my brother without stopping smiling "If you are afraid, you can hold my hand" He held out his hand towards the girl.

 She looked at him. At first surprised, but after a moment she smiled gently. She took Papyrus' offer, giving him a healthy hand. The father looked at them. For a moment a gentle smile appeared on his face. Well, but why be surprised. Paps, with his kindness, was sometimes dishevelled.   

When her father treated her shoulder, she did not take her eyes off him. More out of curiosity than fear.

For a person who had never seen magic, it must be an intriguing sight. Magic surrounded the girl's arm, relieving the pain in the process. The bruise slowly disappeared, and soon there was no trace of it. Her father had easily healed her arm, so it couldn't have been a fracture. Maybe a contusion.

When her father let go of her arm, she stared at it for a moment in silence. She seemed not to fully believe what she was seeing. At this time, her father began to look at her leg.  

"What is your name?" asked my brother carelessly. "You can call me Paps" he pointed at himself and then at me. "And this is my older brother Sans." 

I looked at the girl when the youngster said my name. Our gazes crossed for less than a second as I immediately turned my eyes away from her. I wanted nothing to do with her.

I figured I didn't need to know her name since she would soon die at the hands of King Asgor anyway. Instead of them, I became interested in my father. He had managed to stretch his trouser leg. He was upset because her leg looked terrible. She had an open fracture of the tibia. A fragment of the tibia could be seen from the extensive wound. Blood was still oozing from the injury, dripping onto the glaucoma. Her father knew what to do, he was just waiting for the right moment. If the girl started to struggle, she could aggravate her injury. Violet magic surrounded the girl's leg.  

"I'm Katharina, but you can call me Kath," she replied weakly, paying no attention to her father's actions.

My father looked at me with a meaningful gaze and nodded towards the girl.

I sighed heavily. He could use some help, and Paps had so far been busy talking to Kath. But that's good, at least the girl won't pay attention as we set her bone. Yes... We... After all, I had to help my father somehow. We had to distract the girl to the end.  

I sat down next to them, a bit off to the side.  

"Yeah, you're probably feeling heartbroken by the fall" it may not have been a very ambitious joke, but what mattered was that she had lost interest in her father.  

She looked at me, laughing lightly. After a moment, a grimace of pain entered her face. She clutched at her breast. Father noticed it too. We both must have thought the same thing. Her ribs were also damaged. Since she was breathing and not coughing up blood, they were probably only cracked. Paps didn't know what was going on, so he got a little nervous.  

The teenager looked at the youngster and tried to smile. Somehow it worked out for her.  

"It doesn't hurt that much" she said to Papyrus, who immediately calmed down upon hearing her. 

Out of the corner of my eye I glanced at my father. He continued to attend to her fracture, but in a moment her bone would have to be set. I sprang into action. I tried my best to riddle Katharina with my rusks. By the way, I also distracted Paps. They both listened to me and my brother complained every now and then about my lame jokes.  

"If you didn't like them, you wouldn't be smiling right now," I replied to my brother, who nervously tried to prove to me that my rusks didn't make him laugh. The girl looked at us, laughing weakly every now and then.  

Just then, her father set her bone in one smooth motion. Katharina shuddered violently, gripping her leg with both hands. In pain, she bit her lower lip with her teeth. I knew how it hurt. I had gone through the same thing myself a few months ago. Paps confused, grabbed the girl's arm. He was afraid that something had happened to her. The girl suddenly leaned against me, which made me freeze slightly. I think she had hit consciousness.   

"Kath!" shouted a frightened Paps.  

"Papyrus, calm down" said Paps, without stopping to use his magic. "She will get a little sleep. Even one forced by magic."

The young man, slightly frightened, stopped squeezing Katharina's shoulder. He looked at me, seeking confirmation.  I nodded my head. When the wound on the girl's leg had completely healed, the father looked at us.  

"We need to take her home and take care of her broken leg," her father announced.  

Yes... He was serious. At that time I couldn't believe that he really wanted to take care of her. I couldn't contradict him. I also didn't want to start another argument.  

Paps, on hearing this news, jumped for joy. He had never seen a man before, and now he would be living with him for an indefinite amount of time.  

I could not fathom how a father could expose himself in such a way for a mere girl. If someone found out we were harbouring a man, probably even a close relationship with the king wouldn't save us.     

Just what was left for me to do other than trust him? I watched in silence as he took the unconscious Katharina in his arms, heading towards the exit. After a while, he turned back to me.  

"Sans, take her bag," her father announced, walking with Papyrus. I lazily took her backpack following my father and brother.  

At home, my father put Kath on the sofa in the living room, sending Paps to fetch a medical aid kit. The youngster quickly found it and brought it to his dad. The two of them began dressing the teenager, but Papyrus only assisted. I, on the other hand, stood, leaning against the wall wondering why my father was doing all this and whether Katharina was a danger to us.

#undertale sans #undertale oc #undertale papyrus #undertale fandom #undertale #undertale fanfic #undertale au #sans #undertale alternate universe #undertale alphys #undertale undyne #undertale gaster #gaster #wd gaster #sans undertale #papyrus #papyrus undertale #gaster undertale #guardiantale

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janshu · 3 years

Text

Once In A Millennia...P1.

Summary: A thousand years ago you were married to the Sukuna, a mortal man with the power of a god. Bound to him, his "death" leads you to wander the world alone, against all odds. However...his spirit remains and was resurrected by an unknown boy...

Word Count: 1k-ish.

Warnings: Gn!reader, mentions of a past life & family arranging a marriage.

The days had begun to blur into one incoherent mess.

That wasn't too out of the ordinary. You couldn't be expected to remember every moment of every day, not when you had several lifetime's floating around between your synapses. The mundane and monotonous would naturally be forgotten to make room for the impactful and important memories. The one's you hold onto like your life depends on it and maybe in some way it did, life was mysterious in its ways.

It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that you had seen everything. Every advancement in every field from science to medicine, going from horse-drawn-buggies to vehicles and letters to text messages. Safe to say that nothing was a surprise anymore. What was life's great surprise now? In a thousand years you had seen and experienced everything, from the divine to the depraved.

Life had begun easy. Being only the child of simple country folk who took pride in their work, worshipping the gods in their own special way, you were given more freedom than most in your childhood. Father and Mother had let you wander the secret places of the village until the sun set and dinner was ready, fed and ready for bed you'd lay down on the comfortable cot they had purchased with the earnings from that season's harvest to let you dream the night away. Until he came, that fateful day where your parents made the decision to sacrifice you to the warlord baring down on their home and land. The ultimatum that sealed your fate was simple: you or them and being the pragmatic people they were chose themselves to save.

Now hundreds of years later you weren't sure you should curse or bless them for their decision because that choice set you on the path to where you are now, browsing the morning market like the days of old with the luxuries of the modern age.

That's when you were made aware of it. The creeping cold of being watched, of being found. The inescapable reality of a person exhaling their hot breath against the back of your neck at an angle your neck simply could not turn towards. The feel of a large palm bearing its weight against the curve of your spine with the addition of three more to various hand-holds across the expanse of your body.

"Have you been well, my sweet spouse? The years haven't been kind to you, have they?"

The deep chuckle of a man thoroughly sadistic in the uncaring manner of which they dispatch those he deems maggots, a man changed, a curse upon the world.

Your husband: Sukuna Ryōmen.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten. Wouldn't it be a pity if you've forgotten your husband?"

And when you understandably twist your head around to venture a guess why he of all beings was behind you at a random stall? There was no one. Not the copious amounts of people shopping for their meal ingredients, not even the shopkeepers or the one that was impatiently waiting for you to purchase that fruit and strangely enough: no husband in sight.

An odd hallucination perhaps?

You were being followed, very conspicuously might I add. Clearly they thought themselves to be a master spy by the way they hid behind dumpsters, peeked around poles and made themselves the most obvious person in the ocean of people. Pure lunacy or a power move you weren't sure of yet, the garment they wore a dead giveaway to their intentions. The deep navy uniforms of the Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College. A sorcerer and not a good one if their sneaking skills alluded to their abilities.

Far more inconspicuously you took a look at the figure with the reflection of a shop's window pane. A young man, average, pink undercut and overall nondescript but there was something familiar about his aura. A sinister darkness that was foreign in his kind features. That couldn't be natural. Sepia shaded orbs trained on your figure with a burning intensity that would set your soul on fire with its pinpoint directness. The more important matter was why a sorcerer was following you. To your knowledge they believed Sukuna was a myth and your marriage to him had been forgotten in the past seven hundred years so was it superstition that led him to follow you? Or did you have a curse attached to you and he was doing his job?

Odd, to say the least.

"Excuse me? Uhh, hello? Uhm..'scuse me."

A hand clamped down on your shoulder from the opposite direction you had been watching the sorcerer. Turning back around what did you find? The very same magic user you had been spying. How did he move so quickly? That was a split moment and he was behind you. How did he manage that?

"Yes?" You responded, face rather devoid of emotions while taking a closer inspection at the sorcerer. Upon closer look he was indeed a boy, in the middle of his teen years at the most yet experience had aged his soul considerably. The windows of his eyes closer to that of a wizened old monk rather than a bright-eyed pubescent teenager. The oddest feature that stood out were the dark tattoo's across the bottom edges of his eye sockets, rather distinguished against the otherwise blank face. Fashion statements got stranger and stranger with each passing century.

The boy appeared to have a goal in mind as his eyes searched your face, your eyes and the windows to your soul. Whatever he was looking for either wasn't there or he kept the discovery to himself because after his hand was removed he sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. "Oops, sorry! Thought you were someone else."

"No harm done, honest mistake."

Without another word the sorcerer boy turned on his heel and retreated in the direction he came from. How he had managed to double back and come from your blind spot was still a mystery, there must've been more than meets the eye on that boy.

Yuji Itadori returned to the First Year dorm hall and slid the door closed behind him as he entered. It was late, much later than when he was expected to be in bed and resting. If anyone had noticed his absence then he'd be in a world of pain. What could be worse than the punishment's Gojo could think up? Well, there was one thing. That tattooed psychopath using his body as a vessel. Whoever that person was had set him off. The control he originally thought he had on the cursed spirit had hung by a thread, a battle on who got to control his body raging on. It was a stalemate, mostly. He had control over the vast majority of his facilities but that uppy bastard had gotten his hand in the metaphorical doorway and pried himself into the driver's sleg. Taking over his legs and waltzing up to them and without a plan. They were lucky he had regained himself right as he touched them, what would've happened if he hadn't? There were moments he went on and on about slaughtering women and children like maggots but was the sight of them enough to cause a sudden bloody rampage? Apparently so.

The transition to phase into the mindscape that kept Sukuna contained was seamless. As if he had walked to another section of a home, could be considered as easy as breathing but whenever he was there it was not because he went willingly. He was summoned.

On the pinnacle of the mountain of bones, perched upon on the throne, Yuji noticed there was a crazed grin on the very man's face. Revealing the pearly whites amidst his bloody gums, eyes wide as he leaned forward. Not looking at his host, quite the opposite but something beyond him. Shoulders cloaked in a white robe rose and fell in time with his maniacal giggles, gleeful and relieved. It would be perturbing if he wasn't used to the grating sound by now. The reason why he was laughing was the disconcerting subject.

"Ahh, there you are, dearest spouse. How long will it take until you return to me?"

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sorcerer #jjk #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #cw:none #tw:none

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spiider-girl · 3 years

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DEW DROPS || Peter Parker

Series Summary: Caitlin Wilson's entire life comes crumbling down when one night mysterious people come to her house and cause a disaster, claiming her mother's life in the process.

Her mother's last words were to get somewhere safe and the only place she could think of was Peter Parker's house.

Now wound up in this strange and dangerous path, Caitlin must uncover what really happened that night and who those people were.

Series Pairing: Peter Parker x OC

Word Count: 1.1k

Taglist: @aurora-cycle-unofficial

A/N: I know I didn't post last week, I don't have a good reason for it. Maybe I'm waiting for more reads, I don't know. Anyways this chapter will be the last in the short chapter chronicals lmao. The next one will be longer. Thoughts on Peyton? Do you guys like him or is he too much?

T/W: None I think

Part 5: Found

Peter was sitting in a cafe, sipping hot chocolate and nibbling on a donut. Across from him, Peyton was stirring his tea and playing with his biscotti. They both seemed like they wanted to talk but weren't. Especially Peter.

"Look-"

"I won't tell anyone Peter, I lie for a living."

"Yes, because that's reassuring."

Peyton kept the small spoon on the saucer and looked at Peter. "Do you know where Caitlin Wilson is?" When he didn't reply, he continued talking. "I'm here to help, you need to believe me. I've been all over every data available to me more than enough times and I still can't get any information on her. No bills, no birth record, no hospital traces, zilch."

Normally Peter knew what to say, infact, he often said things that weren't meant to be blabbered. Albeit right now, he had no words. He wanted to say so much and he couldn't.

"I know Caitlin, I've known her my entire life. She may not be telling me the entire truth but I trust her. She's been through a lot, and I can't pressure her into telling me anything. So tell me, if there aren't any records of her, how do you know of her? And most importantly, how did you find me?"

Peyton wiped his face. "I live around her area, seen her before, seen you before." Peter let out a laugh, as if he had been expecting that answer and waited for Peyton to continue. "I had been looking for you, you never seem to be alone you know," he scoffed, "but lucky me, I found out where you disappear to. Spider-Man huh?"

"How?"

"What how?"

"How did you know I was here?"

"Oh that was easy Peter. This time, I just kept following you." Peter raised an eyebrow and Peyton laughed. "Tracker, bag, the tiny one." He pointed as Peter scurried through the compartments.

He pulled out a metallic circle, almost the size of a small button. It looked awfully similar to a coin battery and easily one could miss noticing it.

"How did you put in on me?"

"Oh you don't want me to answer to that."

"I think I do actually. Unless of course you sneaked into my house in the middle of the night, which wouldn't have been a good idea." Not to mention that Peyton would then have no problem locating Caitlin.

He placed the tracker on the table as Peyton slipped out his phone. He turned on an app and soon enough the coin was stuck to the cup, then the plate and finally settled on the tissue holder.

"I put it on MJ and much to my luck, it made it to you."

"Luck? It's been on your side a lot don't you think?" Peyton laughed and kept a couple of bills on the table. He got up, waiting for Peter to do the same.

"I truly am a lucky man Mr. Parker. One might even mistake me for Domino, had It not been for," he gestured to his entire face and Peter gave him an amused look.

One could hear sirens at a distance and Peyton knew what it meant. "Look man, I gotta go, but, meet me here, tomorrow, same time."

"No can do, but yeah, we'll meet again Parker." With that Peter went flying, much like a skilled acrobat, towards the high rising towers as the boy stared at the now empty sidewalk in front of him.

To say that Peyton was shocked would've been an understatement. Peter Parker, the clumsy teenager he had been following was not only the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, but Peyton's hide had been saved by him on multiple occasions and he had no idea.

He immediately rushed home, knowing where to work next.

Peter obviously knows where Caitlin is, he has no motive, and even if he did, he would never. He wouldn't tell him where she is.

His identity gave him so many answers, raised so many more, but at the same time created barriers he hoped wouldn't be there. He had no means of tracking him anymore. Getting near him would be a task as he would know what hit him way before he even did anything.

The further answers he needed were with Peter Parker and it was time to follow him no matter the consequences.

It had been over twenty four hours since Caitlin made her way through the Parker residence and May had to confront the girl if she ever would be able to help her.

She picked up a few files and stuffed them in her locker.

"May there you are, they need you in OR 3."

The tired woman dropped everything and ran to the room after her colleague.

The smell of wood burning was pungent to Peter's nose. The smoke was making it hard for him to breath and he was coughing non stop.

He had two civilians in his clutches as he swung out of the balcony, landing safely in front of the fire department.

"Are you okay sir?" They asked.

"Thank you so much Spider-Man." Peter saluted with his hand as a thank you and goodbye at the same time as he made way for the firefighters to blast water at the building.

"Do you know what caused the fire? It feels sabotaged." Said one of the men wearing a red jumpsuit.

"It's just a gas leak, but it'll still be good if you guys could check it out."

He looked one last time at the situation and the fading fire as he shot a web to a distant building, making his way to the Wilson residence.

Caitlin was still at her place, with MJ and Ned. They were all in her mother's office, going through every file she could possibly find.

"All of this, this is all evidence leading to years in jail."

"Kate, nobody knows, nobody has to either."

"I'm a hundred percent sure someone knows Ned because," she exaggerated her hands into a circular motion, taking in the situation. "Where did Pete go?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure he had a good reason of leaving."

"Guys, see this." Both of them rushed to MJ.

She was holding a file, it had a photo, a name, a price and information of a person written on it.

"No freaking way."

"That's impossible." They both said simultaneously.

The photo had a girl no less than their age. Her eyes green and her hair red, she had freckles beautifully resting on her face like constellations in a night sky.

"Your mom set a bounty on Mary Jane's head."

The fall of snow on her nose was as soft as a feather. She let out a laugh as more snow surrounded her, blanketing her like a cocoon. She laughed as it danced around her.

"Mary Jane get inside you'll catch a cold."

"Yes Mrs. Beverley." She replied and rushed in.

I love feedback. Taglist is open, just personal message me or send in an ask.

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everyothermouse · 3 years

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A lil group portrait of the time au adventuring gang!! Them <333

Basically tol fucked up as a kid and is now on the run from the law, but realized that since his life was so crazy he could live off of telling stories of his wacky adventures. When he met Jay he wanted him to come with him, and when he found out jay couldn't come cus he was virtually a demon/god/magic magnet he decided he NEEDED to bring him to capitalize on how it'd make more cool stories. And yeah it worked so since then he's been collecting wackos to aaa go crazy aaaa go stupid (and also bcus safety I numbers or whateva, pop and pip are also criminals and pastel and jay are crimes against god <3) more about each individual under the cut!

Doin them from left to right :)

Pastel: died when she was messing around with some friends and got stuck under a big rock and left to starve. But because of a fluke in the underworld her God decided to resurrect her, a right usually only belonging to saints. Because of this she's now poorly pretending that she totally did something to deserve being revived (she tells a different story every time someone asks, she thinks it's funny) to avoid being persecuted for suspected witchcraft. She met Jay when they were both drunk and they had fun fucking around in the city, and she spilled the beans to him that she was revived for no reason. She regretted it, but jay didn't kill her because even though he's religious he knew what it felt like to be magically cursed and have everyone be pissed at u for it. Also she's really funny with jay so tol begged her to come with them to add more Comedy(tm) to his memoirs

Pop: a time traveller and angel who is trying to hide both of those facts but only really succeeding at hiding the time travel thing. When they were a kid they traveled to this time with his friends Lustre and Cherrybomb, but when they were attacked by the vicious royal guard they weren't able to escape without leaving Lustre behind. Cherrybomb super repressed that memory, and while pop recovered from some minor injuries they vowed to never time travel again. Yeah they only kept that up until they were like 15, but they still couldn't bring themself to go back to when they left Lustre. But now they're 26 (well technically they're like 33 but in their time their supposed to be 26) living with their boyfriend cherrybomb and have years of time travel experience under their belt, and they're ready to go back. Except they can't go back because they created a travel block for themself by accident because of how upsetting the event was, so instead they traveled as close as they could, about 10 years in the future of the time. Now they search for any form of closure, all they need to know is what happened to their friend, and they will do whatever it takes to find this out. But angels aren't super welcome in the past, especially not with uncut wings, so it's not exactly easy for them to navigate this time period. But after a while of their search they met two lovely children (well young adults), a demon and a "cursed" (nowadays they call em spiritually gifted) and felt so bad for how much the world seemed to be against them they decided they could travel with them, just for a bit, to protect them. They tried not to get attached. They failed. They're in it for the long run now aren't they TwT also as they explore this time and learn more about the gods, they start to realize that they might... be the God of longevity???? Or at least an older version of them became them? Time travel is fucked man

Btw Lustre plays a big role in this plot, her hyper futuristic knowledge, 'blessed' white eyes, and strange God gifted clothing would all lead to him rising to a much different role than fugitive rather quickly, but they're not who this post is about ;) also I'm gonna go bottom to top for the 3 in the middle let's go

Lune: just a little guy :) lune is a young rancher/gardener who worships the God of the wood, who kind of goes missing sometimes and is lowkey the least loyal God but shhhh he loves them. Lune and tol were childhood friends (along with their pal cleo) but on one of their little excursions tol took something very important to a very powerful king, and refused to give it back. As retribution the king destroyed their entire town, and cleo put all the blame on tol, tol and lune both knew lune had to take the side against tol in order to not have the town turn on him. So yeah he moved with the town to bring up a brand new farm, long awaiting the day when tol would come home and say that things were OK and they could settle back in town together, hopefully with cleo too. That didn't happen, but tol did come back and peer pressure lune into part time adventuring with him! So yeah generally lune just runs his lil farm and prays, but when tol comes to pick him up he gets a chance to go be free to act batshit crazy, just like when he was a kid 🥰

Pipes: DEmon! One time lune and tol had a little squabble so lune was like 'im gonna get a new best friend and ur gonna regret this' and tol was like 'yeah right, u live with a bunch of criminals right now no one's gonna wanna be ur bestie dumbass' so lune just walked into a cave at night and dragged out this little nonverbal demon because demons who live alone in caves don't have high standards for friends. Even tho it was just a ploy to make tol jealous lune went super hard on it and now pipes is actually friends with the gang lmaoo

Tol: like I said with lunes, stole something important from a king as a kid, monarch got pissed, blew up the town, town got pissed at tol for it, and since then he's been on the run because he's too stubborn to give back the damn thing (they could have just attacked HIM for it, but since la queen decided to fuck with his town, his family, tol thinks he doesn't deserve to have it back.) He had to run from town to town and got into a lot of danger in his attempts at finding places to hide, but he lacks fear and tended to fight stuff off. As a kid he found that he could get enough pity to be welcomed into towns if he told people he had to fight a monster to get there, so he told stories at every town and camp he went to of his hardships. But as he got older, those he stayed with beckoned him to keep talking, and more and more people said they had heard of his adventures. And that's when when it clicked, his shining ticket to true freedom wasn't a place, it was his stories. They gave him food, shelter, fun, memories, a life. So he made it his mission to never settle down, to make his life as crazy as possible and to talk about it as much as possible, and if he ever ran out of energy to adventure, he'd spend the rest of his dying days writing and writing his entire life story. He thought this was a life he'd live alone, but one day he sought refuge in jays little lonely house because he thought it was abonded, luckily though Jay had just been praying for a second chance at life and decided that considering the timing, tol must be that second chance. So yeah jay patched him up, found out on his monthly supply route he was harboring someone very wanted, and took care of tol even harder because he didn't know or care why he was wanted, he just knew that anyone who had a drawing of them as a child on a wanted poster definitely didn't deserve it. So yeah they're besties now.

AAA I wrote out a really long description for jay but tumblr glitched and I lost it :'O ble here's a shorter rewrite cus I'm not writing out that whole thing again >:P

Jay: brought up in a church village,, he was born with the curse, which allows him to tap into magical properties very easily, and be very easily controlled, manipulated, and possessed by them. This allowed him to be very connected with his god (the god of longevity) but also meant he was often treated as a security risk and a monster by the adults of his town since he could let in evil spirits so easily. He spent most of his time praying and he became obsessed with acting on compulsions (repeated prayer, overscrubbing, scratching himself, touching religious things until he felt like he touched them "right") because he believed they were messages from God and would prevent him from becoming evil (look he was a teenager and everyone told him he was a monster his whole life leave him be.) He gets possessed twice, mage as a rep of the town is like "either have ur cursed removed or leave town forever" (uncursing is only hypothetically possible, it's hella dangerous) and he's scared itd sever his connection to his god so he leaves and he's upset bcus his entire life plan was built around his church, so now he's livin alone on a hill and leaving like once a month, he stays up there and sews and prays mostly, he sort of works on himself and becomes vaguely mentally stable, so he prays for a second chance at life since he lost his original path and needs a sign where to go, and then boom tol shows up and the rest is history. Now he has his own little family and things are going great :) other than the still getting possessed like once a week but shhhh

Pip: in between the entrance to hell and the religious central of the continent is a little town that sides with neither. They mostly fuck around and find out, and in this town lives a monster researcher and her less formal wife, pip! Pip is just a silly goofy little guy livin life, and when the crazy bunch shows up she feels like he's finally found her people :3 and for the first time the group gains a member who's begging to join them as opposed to the other way around

Ya and together they all go on wacky lil adventures with demons and monsters and monarchs and what not.

Tldr pastel is a funny lil dead guy, pop is a time traveller and the Adult of the team, lunes a lil farmer man, pipes a hobo demon they picked up off the side of the road, tols a little criminal demon adventurer, jays a religious weirdo who tol dragged out of his hermit hut, and pips an insane little guy

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san-station · 4 years

Text

No more sad songs • Bang Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

(Fluff & Angst)

WARNING: Broken heart.

↝Word count: 1,9k

The things you've done for your best friend were uncountable, you would go to hell and beyond to bring him back to you, just like Dante did for Beatrice on his journey through the nine circles of Hell. Having the Lee Minho as your Thing #1 was what people would say: a blessing. But sometimes blessings weren't as great as they sound. Your relationship was a mess, he was known as the mighty fuckboy of SKZ fraternity and you were "Lee Minho's fan", "the girl who chases the unreachable", "the groupie" and more names you've heard around campus.

People didn't know that you've been friends since you could spell your name correctly, you went to the same school, you lived in the same neighborhood and Minho was the first one to approach the little shy girl who rather play alone with her dolls and paint some flowers than play with the other kids. Minho found you cute and weird (in a good way), you were the only girl that didn't want to give him a kiss or ask to be his friend, so he thought you were unique.

Over the years, you built a beautiful friendship based on him being the cocky fuckboy who dragged the bashful girl to parties; you being the responsible friend who dragged him to his house before he passed out and gave him painkillers in the morning to get him to his dance major classes. Him, distracting you from your music major homework to watch his new choreography, and more.

Your friendship was like any other friendship... the problem was that you were deeply in love with Minho from the very beginning. You loved everything about him and it hurt, you were in love with the one person who will never see you as more than just a friend because he loved to party, to live the moment and forget about the past, to blindly look forward and annihilate everything in his path, it didn't matter if his best friend was in the field, he'll destroy her without noticing and, even so, you loved him.

You've been through a lot due to that reckless behavior and he was oblivious, he didn't realize those sad songs you wrote were about him and the things he did impulsively. That time when he kissed the girl with the white dress on Lee Jeno's party leaving you all alone in a place where you didn't know anyone and ended up calling your friend Changbin to give you a ride back home; the time when you were eating at a restaurant with your other friends to celebrate your birthday and he didn't show up because he was having some fun at the dance studio with his choreo partner and didn't even apologize; that time when he got pretty drunk and kissed you in a SKZ party and then said "I'm sorry, Y/N, I thought you were another girl! Ewwww, I kissed my best friend this is so weird" and started laughing his ass off.

He never notice the tears in your eyes when he did all of that, he never stopped to ask how you were or if you wanted to go when you felt so unhappy on those parties. And you still did everything for him because he had your heart, yet, he was so stupid to understand it. All your friends knew it. Well, they all could read your lyrics and play your beats and be aware of your feelings towards Minho.

Now you were at the music studio with your fellow partners and friends: 3Racha, also known as Bang Chan, Seo Changbin and Han Jisung. Your appointment for today was creating two different beats with the same lyrics to see how flexible it could be, but all you were thinking were gloomy melodies and heartbroken songs.

The australian boy gave his friends a concerned look and text them on their group chat.

∼3RACHA Bros∼

Chan: I think it's Minho again...

Jisung: Yeah, saw him yesterday, he REALLY had some fun lololol

Changbin: Hyung, do something... this isn't working.

Chan: Why me???

Changbin: you're good with words :D

Chan: We all literally are good with words, Bin.

Jisung: c'mon Hyung, she'll listen to you, you have like a thing lol

Chan: ????

Changbin: Make her happy or we won't buy you food :D

Chan: I hate both of you...

Jisung got up from his sit in front of you and you looked up at him immediately. Changbin stood up as well and smiled at Chan.

"We're gonna buy pizza for the rest of the evening", Changbin said fixing the black beanie on his head. Jisung grabbed Chan's wallet over the table and he groaned.

"For real?", Chan questioned rolling his eyes and sitting back on his chair. The laptop in front of him stopped playing the track he was working on and stared at Jisung.

"We'll be back soon", Changbin said again and, before getting out of the room, he turned to you and groaned.

"And pleaseeee, I'm begging you, Y/N, no more sad songs", he pouted.

Jisung pushed him outside the room and yelled: "yeah! I'm the sentimental boy of the group, please, be happy for once, girl!"

You tensed and lower you gaze to your lyrics book tracing the words with your fingers. Chan sighed at the view of your dispirited body and sat next to you, closer.

"Let's talk about... the beautiful day!", Chan panicked a little and smiled at you brightly. You didn't see him, you couldn't find in yourself any strength to put a smile on your face or even willing to, it didn't worth it.

"I'm not in the mood, Channie", your voice sounded like a sweet whisper. If Chan wouldn't have gotten that closer, he wouldn't have listened.

"Would you like to talk about it?", he asked pouting. He really wanted to make you smile, it warmed his heart watching your amusement. Right now he felt sick watching you so depressed, he could feel as if all his energy would've left his body and needed proper sleep to regain the power or the enthusiasm he required for you to feel something more than sadness. He heard you sighed.

"Yesterday, in Mark's party... Minho was making out with like four different people at the same time while I was sitting on the couch waiting for him to go back home." You closed your eyes, images of last night travelled through your mind making you whimper. "It hurts so much..."

Chan kept silence, his breath was heavy, his eyes were on your face as you finally saw his expression and you got worried.

"Don't look at me like that, I'm gonna be fine soon!", you reassured him.

"It's just that... I've told you the truth about him so many times and you're still not over him, Y/N", Chan caressed a strand of your hair avoiding your hurt gaze.

"It's not that easy, you know? We've known each other since first grade... I've loved him since...", Chan frowned and hummed for a second.

"How could you tell it was real love when you basically were thinking about dolls and candies?”, he spoke calmly, pronouncing every word slowly for you to process the question. You frowned and opened your mouth, yet, Chan interrupted.

“Tell me something... Has he ever told you that he loves you? Has he ever thanked you for everything you've done for him?”, once again, he caressed your hair and stared deeply into your soul, his brown eyes made you swallow hard trying to remember a moment when all those things happened.

“Has he ever compliment you about your work? About your incredible music?”, he continued as the voices in your head screamed the real answer.

“Sometimes… I think...”, you finally mumbled and sighed in defeat. Chan was right, Minho had only said good things about her when she did him a favour, when he asked for things and she was there to help him; when he was tired of listening to her complains, he would say something nice to make her stop.

Your lips trembled as you tried to speak, but nothing came out, so Chan grabbed your hands and squeezed them.

“Y/N, you love someone who's too selfish to realize you've been crushing on him for years, I think it's time for you to understand that you have to move on or you're going to keep hurting yourself even more than you are right now”, his voice, in a way, made you feel safe, it made you feel that the decision you’d make was the right one, that there are others who could make you a better version of yourself, make you believe you were loved. Chan’s voice was really one of those who you wanted to hear before going to sleep and when you wake up. Chan always took care of your feelings trying to make you smile even when you had to write a sad song, even when you cried the whole night because Minho forgot your birthday, even when you were so fragile you could broke by negative thoughts. Chan was there and that was the most important thing in your life right now. You sniffed and avoided his gaze, it started to burn your cheeks unexpectedly.

“The past sometimes brings us joy, you have your good memories with him, he’s your best friend, for God sakes!”, he scoffed in disbelieve and that made you chuckled, his eyes became crescent moons when he smiled at that gesture.

“The love meter you have right here”, his right finger pointed the left side of your chest. “...you need to low that status a little. From 'I'm in love with Minho' to 'I love my best friend as much as he loves me, as a friend' and keep looking forward because you're a strong woman, okay?”, your seriously thought your body was on fire, your hands holding his made your stomach growl and you giggled due to his words.

“You are beautiful, Y/N, you are an amazing person and you have the kindest heart... Give it to someone who will appreciate everything you're willing to give and embrace real love…”, Chan died a little inside when he saw the effect of his words on you, you were shining, cheeks with a pink shade of embarrassment and giggling like a teenager girl. His heart was racing out of control but on the outside he seemed relaxed.

“Thank you, Channie… I really appreciate it”, you said trying to stop your smile from growing bigger.

“I promise that, once you forget about that crush, you’ll find someone who would be there for you in the good and bad moments”, he pinched your blushed cheeks. He stood up and you thought he was going to sit on his chair a few meters away from you, but he actually grabbed his laptop and sat on your side.

“So, what about we start making a happy beat for your lyrics?”, you nodded and opened again you lyrics book.

Both of you began to work on the melodies and changed a lot of the lyrics as they were too depressing. An hour and a half later, Changbin and Jisung came back with the pizza they promised and watched the joyful atmosphere around you. At the end of the day, you made two flexible tracks for your appointment and ignored the messages Minho had sent you inviting you to another party. You laughed when Jisung was making fun of Changbin, you laughed as Changbin was complaining about Jisung, you laughed when Chan laughed, you were happy there having your own party and you couldn’t think of any sad songs anymore.

Masterlist

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angel-alvez · 5 years

Text

valentine’s day detective ( p. parker )

prompt: you go full on detective to figure out who left a rose for you

word count: 1238

Every year on the fourteenth of February, at least one of your classes would be interrupted by somebody strolling through your classroom and handing out different colored roses to unexpecting teenagers in your class. You dreaded the day solely because while others received pink and purple flowers, you often were given the blue ones. Sure, the flowers were sentimental and an adorable idea, but the colors: not so much. The pink symbolized love, the purple was secret admiration and blue was friendship. It seemed to single people out too much - but it was Valentine's Day, so it was somewhat bearable.

Your biology class was finally beginning a movie that took out at least a day's worth of class, which meant that the class finally got to relax after taking a rather large abundance of notes and quizzes. The science class was actually the only class you looked forward to. Michelle, Ned, and Peter all joined you in the class, which meant that there was never a dull day.

Halfway through the class, your teacher paused the movie. Numerous annoyed groans echoed throughout the room, not wanting to have another discussion about how the most common macromolecules in biochemistry are biopolymers and large non-polymeric molecules - whatever that meant.

However, a few cheers rang about when the familiar bundle of flowers entered through the door. You mentally prepared yourself for the regular blue flower. Of course, you thanked Michelle for the flower, giving her a hug as soon as she received hers from you.

"You're the best, MJ." You smiled.

"Thank you, for both the flower and compliment. Also, it looks like you have a secret admirer!" MJ exclaimed, nudging your shoulder.

A bright smile tugged at the corners of your mouth when you noticed the purple flower laying on the lab table in front of you. It was surprising to see your name written across the tag but confused as to whom it came from. The little logo from the school's decathlon team was scribbled at the corner, giving you a narrowed down list of the potential senders.

"Looks like I'm turning into a detective today."

〔✿〕

Pouring yourself a glass of freshly made lemonade, you sat down at the kitchen counter. The flower was laid right in front of you, along with a copy of the decathlon team's signatures. It was easy to gain access to it, considering that you were a part of the group. The easy part was now over, and the investigator's part was about to begin. You already were aware that you were taking this whole thing over the top, but wondering about your admirer's identity was taking over all your attention.

Just as you were about to begin comparing the handwriting, a knock on your apartment door scared you half-to-death. Looking at the clock, you realized that your parents weren't due home for another two hours, so it couldn't have possible been them. Trotting over to the door, you stood on the tips of your toes to look through the peephole. Another smile spread on your face as you unlocked and opened up the door to reveal an unexpected guest.

"Peter! What're you doing here? I thought you had that internship thing!"

He carefully set his backpack on the floor, shutting the door behind him. "You really think I'd let my best friend search for her admirer alone?"

You shrugged. Although Peter was overly nice to everyone he happened to cross paths with, you never expected him to show up at your door and help you with your mediocre investigation. Despite your curiosity, any help was better than no help at all.

"Riiiight," You dragged out the only syllable before leading him to your little setup. "Anyways, I haven't even started and I could really get all the help I can get."

Peter nodded his head as he set his chemistry notebook on the tabletop. You furrowed your eyebrows, unsure of how he would use his science book to help you discover your admirer. Deciding not to question it, you took a bite of the strawberry Pop-Tart that you had taken out earlier. Your eyes awkwardly roamed around your home, silence being a highly unusual thing during your classic y/l/n-parker hangouts.

The poor boy had no idea what to do, considering that he was the one who had sent you the flower - quite obviously. He tried giving as many hints throughout the day as he could, but you never caught on.

While Peter had been caught up in his own thoughts, you had taken a moment to admire the doodles on his notebook cover when a certain decathlon team drawing caught your eye. Deciding to compare it to the one on the flower's tag, realization had set in that it was practically exact. Upon your new discovery, you almost choked on your Pop-Tart - and your little coughing fit scared Peter in the slightest bit. When you were able to speak again, you questioned him.

"You sent me the rose?" You stammered.

"Guilty as charged."

Peter wasn't sure what was happening, but his heart was beating a million miles an hour. He had basically just admitted his feelings to you and, so far, he was getting no reaction whatsoever. Apart of him was worried that you didn't feel the same way, but the other half recalled the times you laughed at his stupid science jokes and how he often caught you looking at him with a glimmer in your eyes.

"I-uh... why?" You finally allowed your eyes to meet his.

Peter furrowed his eyebrows. "Why? Because, y/n you're the sweetest, funniest, most adorable person I have ever met. How could anyone not like you? What I'm trying to say is that I've liked you since the day we first met."

"That was the day that you helped me with my family's boxes and I repaid you with Pop-Tarts," you laughed.

"y/n, it's totally fine to say that you don't reciprocate my feelings, you know that right?"

"Yeah. But honestly, I really do like you, Parker. Of course your confession is way more sentimental - but I do."

Peter breathed out. "Oh thank God! I was so afraid that you would reject me!"

By now, the two of you were on your feet, smiles on both of your faces. Wrapping your arms around his torso, the brown eyes that you had grown to love were now looking back at you. The two of you were best friends for what felt like forever, making embracing each other fairly normal - but this time just felt different. Your feelings were out on the table, and smiles illuminated the room.

Peter carefully placed a hand on the side of your face, indirectly asking if he could finally kiss you. Nodding your head, he hesitantly leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in the most delicate way possible. The kiss was short and simple, but it made your smiles shine as bright as the stars.

"Now... how about we eat a bunch of Pop-Tarts and watch a marathon of The Office?"

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker imagines #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman fanfic #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman imagine #spiderman homecoming #spiderman far from home

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us-smash-archive · 5 years

Text

Skyrim AU

Born in the city of whiterun Toshinori Yagi, a redguard, had a simple childhood. He didn't have much with his parents but he did have a good sense of justice and what was right or wrong at a young age. He wanted to be a pillar that the people could depend on and shine a light through the darkness. He knew a few basic spells such as fire, a shield and healing before the loss of his parents at the age of 5. He wasn't even home when it happened but from what he could hear from the guards was that a small group of bandits had broken into the home for anything they could loot and when Yagi's parents wouldn't hand the items over to them they had been what could be best described as slaughtered before the house was set ablaze to try and destroy the evidence. Two bodies were recovered from the rubble but they were unrecognizable, the young redguard feeling his whole world being shattered.

This wasn't fair why did this have to happen?! Surely the guard would do something about it right?! Unfortunately since there wasn't any evidence left to pin the crime on anyone the case had to be dropped and it left the young boy all alone with an aching hole in his chest. He vowed to one day bring those criminals to justice for what they had done before he was found by the are and sent to the local orphanage to live there. In his time there he would practice his simple spells of fire, shield and healing to make them better and stronger then ever,feeling anger and resentment bubble up inside him. He knew this wasn't good for a future hero to be holding onto these feelings so he did his best to try and let them go and with time the anger and resentment faded from his heart but the urge to bring them to justice remained.

He ran away from the local orphanage when he had just turned 8 yrs old,wanting to see the world and start his journey onto becoming the pillar that people needed. The young boy knew it wouldn't be easy but this was something he was determined to do and nothing would change his mind about it. Being able to pull together enough money for a simple sword and shield along with a bag of provisions Yagi had left the town of whiterun and started his journey into becoming a symbol of hope.

The years had quickly passed by and soon the young boy grew into a young adolescent, going by the alias All Might. People were already talking about him and his small heroic acts in smaller towns when he met his future master, a Nord woman by the name of Nana shimura. He had rushed into a fiery blaze to save the people trapped inside when he had ran into her after he himself got stuck inside the burning building trying to save the people inside. When he was asked why he was doing these heroic acts across skyrim this is what he told her.

"I want to be the symbol of hope and be able to make this land a place where people can smile without worry. I want to be able to give them somebody to look up to and know that everything is going to be ok when they hear my name All Might. I want to help those in need that are unable to help themselves and give them the justice they deserve when bad things happen to them."

A small smile spread across the nord woman's face at the teenage redguards answer before she simply held out her hand and said "then come with me young one and I will help you make your dream a reality."

Toshinori quickly grew to view Nana and her friend that went by the alias 'Torino' as his new family and it brought him comfort. He didn't think he would be able to have a family again after the death of his parents but life has a funny way of working for you. He often asked about the nature of nana's sword she wielded but she never gave him a straight answer, only telling him "when the time comes I will tell you" whenever he brought the subject up after training sessions. A few years passed by and before he knew it Toshinori was all grown up, his hair swept back into a bunny like hairstyle as he looked out upon the world with confidence and strength. Like he could take on anything and would come out on top. "Toshinori I think you are ready for this.." Nana spoke one day and turned her sword over to the redguard. "I.. I don't understand mo- master.." Toshi whispers softly as he grips the sword in his hands,feeling the energy that was stored up inside it tingling his hands.

"I know you don't. It's finally time for me to tell you the story behind this sword and how I came to carry it. The sword that has been dubbed by its holders as 'one for all'..."

And that is when toshinori learned the secret behind his master's might and the truth behind this powerful sword. There were two brothers and one of them was a powerful wizard while the younger brother was a simple blacksmith that made weaponry. The older brother robbed and took advantage of others under the illusion that he was helping them. In reality he was just simply taking what he wanted when he wanted,trying to mold the world into his image. When the younger brother saw the dark path his brother was going down he knew he had to do something to stop him so he forged a sword from ebony and grabbed a simple shield and armor before he went to challenge his brother. To stop him from wreaking havoc upon the world. The two brothers fought with the older one emerging victorious and leaving his brother for dead,the younger sibling slowly bleeding out on the ground but smiled softly as he saw the blade he had created had become charged with some of his brothers magic. Thinking that one day the sword would become powerful enough to stop his brother he poured the little magic he had left into the blade before handing the blade off to the person that found him then told them this with his final breath

"Make this blade stronger and as powerful as it can be before challenging my brother. A monster like that can't be allowed to roam free in this world. If you are unable to complete this task then pass it along to the next person you deem worthy and tell them these words as well. One day this sword, 'one for all', will be powerful enough to challenge and defeat my brother, All For One. When the task is done I will finally be able to rest in peace..."

And with those final words the younger brother left the world,leaving the fate of the newly forged sword and his brother to the future generations.

"And that is the story behind the blade and how it was created. I do not need to tell you the fates of the previous holders of this legendary blade as they all met their end by this man. I want you to know this toshinori. If anything should happen to me when I go to challenge All For One I want you to become the next bearer of One For All and become that symbol of hope that everyone needs. I know you can do it and you'll be a amazing successor to this sword's might!"

Another year passed by to train toshinori with his new blade before he, nana and Torino went off to challenge All For One. That was the last time the redguard ever saw his master, the woman he grew to love like a mother.

The sorcerer proved to be too much for the nord woman to defeat so with a smile and her final strength, the woman shoved the sword 'one for all' into Toshinori's arms before shoving him to Torino and telling her friend to get him to safety, hearing the boy screaming out for her. "I leave it all to you All Might!!" she called out,pulling out a second sword and with a smile charged at the sorcerer while the two fled the scene,not having to look back to know what had happened to Nana shimura.

When they eventually returned to the scene all that remained of her was the purple cape she always wore, slightly torn and under some rubble as the redguard screamed out in pain and agony at the loss of his master. That feeling of anger and resentment bloomed inside his heart again but also a new feeling joined them this time at this new loss for the redguard. RAGE. He did not want these new feelings to go away anytime soon, he used this feelings to push himself harder then before and get stronger like she had wanted him to be and to become that symbol of hope for everyone. Along the way to his goal of being that symbol he had made many connections and friendships, one of them being his best friend that was a wood elf by the name of David Shield. A young and very strong wizard himself the two had met when the young elf had been cornered by thugs wanting to use him for his knowledge and power. Toshinori didn't trust David at first since he didn't have good experiences with wizards but the wood elf was patient and showed the redguard so many new things and new spells to learn in their time together. When it was time to part ways the young wizard gave his new friend a set of ebony armor he had enchanted himself to protect him in his journey. Toshinori waves goodbye to his new friend before putting on the armor and continued his journey, the two promising to keep in touch.

Time continued to move forward for toshinori and soon everyone knew the name All Might. They knew that name meant that there would be justice for those who did wrong and he would protect the innocent. It brought a smile to his face as after all these years he had finally achieved his dream of becoming the symbol of hope.He had a shield made for him with a black rim,red wood,and two dragons etched into its wood. A yellow Dragon and a purple Dragon in honor of his late master while he had her old cape tied around his waist as a part of his outfit. He looked down at his sword one day and that dormant rage he had locked away over the years started to come back to the surface. He knew in his heart that it was his turn now. It was his turn to take on the sorcerer All For One.

He knew that All For One was powerful so he didn't face him head on at first. Instead he searched and took down the empire he had built over the years. Slowly but surely the evil sorcerer's empire fell to his might, the redguard being determined to avenge his master and end this sorcerer’s madness. Soon the time came when the symbol of hope stood before All For One with his blade gripped tightly in his hands, his knuckles white and teeth clenched tight as blue eyes stared down the sorcerer.

“so you're the new bearer of the sword that was created by me and my younger brother? I do indeed remember you All Might. I remember seeing you there as I destroyed the last holder of that sword. She was a pathe-”

“she was a true hero don't you DARE taint her name you monster!! I have come to avenge her and finally bring you to justice!!” The redguard roared out, his rage consuming him whole as he charged at the sorcerer who only sighed before getting ready to fight.

“I really thought we could have talked more All Might. Oh well if you're in such a hurry to fight me and meet your demise I will gladly grant that wish..”

And so All Might and All For One clashed in a battle that truly was fit for legend. The two of them fought for what seemed like an eternity until All Might slowly emerged from the rubble of the battlefield, beaten and bloody but what he thought to be victorious. Using the blade as a crutch the redguard limped away from the battlefield to seek aid for his wounds as he was too weak to use his own healing spells, not noticing that the evil sorcerers fingers started to twitch. It would seem that this great evil would not be defeated so easily…

Toshinori smiled softly at his victory and felt he had avenged his master and she could rest in peace as he had stumbled onto Torino's doorstep before passing out, the mentor helping the symbol inside and start to nurse him back to health. The days turned to weeks which then turned to months, the hero having suffered numerous injuries but thankfully was still alive. Torino was furious at him for going alone to fight All For One but simply shook his head and told him

“toshinori someone like All For One cannot be defeated so easily. You may be the first bearer of One For All that's been able to go against him head on but it doesn't mean that this war is over. It just means we won this battle for now. He will come back one day. In this time of peace now that he has been stopped for now it would be best to search for a successor to the blade in case the worst comes to pass when he does return…”

5 years had passed since that fight and since he had heeded his mentor's words. He could feel the change in the air as he was on the hunt for a new bearer of the sword One For All. A change that meant that new challenges would come and need to be faced head on. Gripping the blade tight in a scarried hand, blue eyes looked down on the city of Riften as it was his new home now, determined to find a worthy successor to the blade ‘One For All’ before time ran out and the sorcerer All For One would rise again to try and take back what was once his..

Ooc: wooooohhhh I finally finished the skyrim Au! Hope that you all like this backstory cause I'm really proud of this one!👍❤😊

#ooc #skyrim au #verse:Skyrim #backstory

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lightsorigins · 3 years

Text

Fluctuations

When he opened his eyes, Malden remained as straight as a board. He stared at the bedroom ceiling for a few seconds before turning his head to the window. The shutters were wide open. Yet he remembered that Kieran had closed them the night before. It didn't matter. He stood up slowly and felt the icy cold of the systemic dawn make him shiver. It was around nine o'clock, the sun was rising. Even slower than he was, he thought. Malden knew that it was not easy to be more phlegmatic than he was.

- Except you, Mr. Sun," he murmured, still leaning out the window.

He lost himself in his thoughts for a few minutes. Now that he'd had a good time with his friend, he'd have to think about going home and face his mother's wrath for allowing himself to leave the day before. What an idea to get up so early! He remembered very well that sleep had come late, and fatigue would quickly overcome him during the day. Malden turned and saw Kieran lying on his back, his blanket over part of his body diagonally. He was sleeping with his mouth open and snoring so loudly he could have woken a dragon. The sight made him chuckle.

Discreetly, he collected his things, put on his shoes, and left the apartment without waking anyone. He put on his headphones and played "How Long Can I Go" by "Sam Celentano". Once outside, several options came to mind. There was a park north of Lausya, where he often went to play sports. He also had a painting he had started and wanted to finish. However, the longer he stayed outside, the more problems he would have to deal with when he returned.

- It's up to me. I can go to the park and do push-ups. Take up my painting, knowing that I might run into mom. Maybe I can give Sylva a call and see if I can't come over early. I could have stayed at Kieran's, but now that I'm out, I'm not going to wake him up to come back... And seeing as he's asleep, he won't wake up, that's for sure, he concluded by putting his hand on his face.

Malden suddenly noticed that he had a few unread messages. Naturally, these were from his mother. The most important one was this:

"I don't appreciate your attitude lately. We'll have a discussion as soon as you get home. You know there are rules to follow in this house, and they apply to everyone, even you! »

The first response that came to mind was "You never liked my attitude, and you never understood me. "But he found it too tiring to get into a conflict with her. It was better not to escalate the situation. Akane, his mother, had been an adventurer during her youth. During certain periods, it happened that she went on adventures for a few weeks with her old group of friends. She is a Gial (Earth) atmologist, focused on the Veltôs (Control) path, and her atmology is an ochre red. At a very young age, Akane received a strict and hard education, and also underwent many hazing which forged her character for sure. She has never been an example of softness. This hard and uncompromising character made communication with Malden particularly complicated over the years.

It didn't matter in the end. Malden decided to get on his way and go home. He might as well face Mother Dragon as quickly as possible to put out the flames. Unfortunately, it didn't take much for his mood to be affected. These expressions from his mother reminded him how lonely he felt in his family, despite the good relationship he had with his sister Sawako, and his brother Hayate. He always ended up being seen as too intense, too whiny or touchy and moody. When he thought about it, however, Malden knew that factually he lacked nothing. He was a healthy, rather good-looking young man, good at a few subjects, athletic, with a group of sympathetic and understanding friends, a certain amount of freedom in his personal life, and so on. However, it seemed that something was missing.

It was as if there was a void somewhere. A fear of not living up to his own image, or of failing at what he could do. He was so special that he could be admired for the strangeness of his thoughts and artistic productions, but also stigmatized, and found "weird", or "unapproachable", to use terms he had heard about himself. Yet he longed to be accepted for who he was, without becoming like everyone else.

When he opened the door to the apartment, he expected to find his mother getting ready for work. Instead, he found Sawako sitting in the kitchen. She was having breakfast: a glass of hot delicatessen milk with a little pethmergale sugar. The whole thing made the milk look dark and creamy. She was reading a manga while smoking a cigarette.

- Hi! he said. I didn't think you'd be here at this hour. I thought I'd find Mom instead.

- Nah, she left pretty early this morning to buy some stuff. I don't think she's gonna be back for a while. Where did you go anyway? Kieran's?

- Yeah. We wanted to watch "Alvist Wars" quietly, but Isaac had come into my room yesterday to snoop on something. I yelled at her, she got involved and... well, you know mom.

- Yeah, I know what you mean. Well, she wasn't too happy about it. In fact, she was angry that you broke like that. I understand, but you could have avoided it, or told me about it. I would have tempered the situation a bit, you know how I usually do.

- I know, but Kieran kind of rushed me, I didn't have much time to make my decision. I've done this plenty of times before, but it seems like yesterday was worse than usual. Why is that?

- Didn't Mom tell you what we have to do tonight?

- No?

- Okay, too weird. Well, actually we're supposed to go to Welliyo with Dad, Mom and Helen to see Melva. Maybe there's some news about her memory, but nothing transcendent you know.

Malden hiccupped in surprise and recoiled slightly. He felt stupid, but also excluded for not having been kept in the loop.

- Is she serious? Why didn't she tell me?

- I think she was going to propose to you yesterday.

- Suggesting me the day before for the day after? What if I had something to do? Yes, I would have canceled. I would cancel anything to go see Melva, but still.

- Anyway, chances are that's why she's so upset about your escapade yesterday. You should just apologize and tell her you'll be there tonight, if you want to be safe. I'll cover for you, but do what I say. I mean, I'll figure out how to fix it, I'll improvise.

- And you think you can get Isaac to stop making my life miserable?

- Don't worry, I'll work it out by ruining his. There are a few things he and I need to discuss. He's still asleep, but I'm setting him up for a real wake-up call.

- You're handling it, thanks. I have to go see Sylvania this afternoon. Do you think you can handle that too?

- Consider it done," Sawako replied, winking at him.

Malden knew he could always count on her in many circumstances. At 27 years old, she was the oldest of her siblings, and therefore the one with the authority right after her parents. And fortunately, Sawako had a lot in common with Malden. Both of them were very sensitive and attached to their deepest values, but Sawako tended to be more withdrawn and passive than her brother. She was a specialist in the art of running away and saying nothing, letting go, sleeping and lazing around. Beyond her studies in water atmology, she loved to write poetry, fiction, and play video games with horror, romance, and role-playing themes. At least that's what her mother told her. Malden, on the other hand, was much more active and enjoyed going out, shopping and discovering more about the world around him. With his pocket money, he bought a lot of things like incense, posters and an infinite amount of clothes that he could wear according to his moods. Besides,

since he would have to go back to Sylvania in the afternoon, he started looking for different clothes to change into after his shower. Leaving his hair down, Malden put a diamond-shaped earring in his left ear, as well as a golden pendant with a small sphere. He put on a gray sweater with "N.O.T.H.I.N.G." in bright green letters. Further down, in small print, it read "Nobody On This Healthiest Irrelevant Narrow-minded Globality. ». Malden liked to wear this sweater when he wasn't sure how he felt. He often hoped that those closest to him would be able to decode this information and understand how he was feeling by carefully observing how he dressed. But it never worked.He went to his room to finish getting ready. After putting on his black shorts and sneakers, the same green as his sweater's typography, he heard his mother coming back to the apartment. Sawako immediately struck up a conversation with her. Malden reached out to listen.

- Malden is back to the point.

- Is he in his room?

- Yeah, but I think it's best to leave it alone for a bit today.

- Oh no! Have you seen how he's acting right now? I have to talk to him, this is too much. And he doesn't answer the messages I leave! That's not an attitude!

- I know, I know mom. But he's a teenager, so you have to imagine that he's going to do a few more silly things like that.

- Sawako, do you defend your brother when he takes the wrong path? Do you think you're helping him to act that way?

Akane spoke loudly and raised her voice with every sentence. She was panting, exhausted from bringing all the groceries alone from the store. Despite her intensive training as a fighter, she was much less active since she had built her family life, and was therefore much more quickly tired for actions that, in her youth, were just a walk in the park for her.

- Plus no one helped me with the groceries today! I have to do everything alone in this house, it's not possible! Call your father for me, so he can come and help me clean up instead of sleeping again!

- Mom, I'm not defending Malden, but I think you're overreacting a bit. He just went to Kieran's. He wanted to watch "Alvist Wars" and he came home early. He's doing well in school and he doesn't have bad company. Don't you think you should leave him alone for a while and deal with Suzanne and Hayate, who are always provoking him?

- Yes, yes it's good. Okay, I'll leave it. Let him do. Call your father now. Is Malden coming tonight so we can go visit Melva, yes or no?

- It will be there.

Malden smiled broadly and clenched his fist in victory. What could he do without Sawako? He felt himself growing wings. The weekend would probably be much more enjoyable than he had imagined. Grabbing his cell phone, he decided to send a message to Sylvania.

"Hi Sylva 😊! Do you think we could eat together this lunch? Like, at a snack bar not too far from your place, and then we spend the afternoon together like we said? »

Every time he took the time to send her a message, Malden's hands were shaking and sweaty. Would he choose the right words? Was he being pushy? Or too weird? Did she realize how he felt about her? And even worse: did he really feel something for her? And this something, was it love? It was so complex for him to understand, so difficult to be totally sure, considering the particular situation. Didn't she just remind him of his sister, who is now in the hospital and he misses her so much? Malden didn't know. He always came to the conclusion that it was probably best to let it go and see where it would take him.

His phone vibrated. It was her. She had just answered! He hurried to open the message.

"Hi Malden! That's a really cool proposal. Where do you want to eat? And what do you want to eat? Something usual and not too far away, just to do it quietly? »

"Noon, at the pizza place across the street from you? »

"Perfect! See you later! »

Since everything was already planned, all he had to do was spend the time he had left doing something he liked. So he threw himself into the painting he had started a few days ago. Malden was fond of searching for photographs of various places in the Mysticiën, and recently his attention had been drawn to pictures of the Omaltäb Forests in Almarosa territory to the south. He was busy redrawing the trees with pink, dark blue, green or even black foliage that could be found there. The simple fact of smelling the paint in the room made him feel a certain fullness that nothing else could give him. After taking care to lock the door of his room so as not to be disturbed, he painted for a long time and moved forward on his canvas. If for some reason he couldn't become an alvist or a martial artist, Malden knew he would become a painter and would do everything he could to fulfill that dream. And even if he did become an alvist and a martial artist, he would be a painter too! With his savings, he vowed to buy a high performance camera and take photographs from original angles and then redesign and paint unusual places in the country, giving them a special interpretation with special color schemes. This was how he would communicate to the world the way he perceived and felt the universe. This idea excited him.

Shortly before the appointment time, Malden rushed to the front door to get going. When he opened it, he passed the kitchen, where he saw his parents preparing dinner. While he was already on the landing, he heard his mother's authoritative voice.

- Be back by five o'clock, we'll go see Melva. We won't wait for you forever.

- Uh, yes, Mom. See you tonight!

- That's it," she said dismissively.

The sun was shining on Lausya, accompanied by a rather strong wind. A gust of wind blew straight towards Malden, removing his hood and messing up his hair. He who wanted to be elegant for Sylvania, it was from now on lost pain. He sighed discreetly while putting back his hood. That was not going to dry his good mood found. He was now listening to "Apricot" by "Sam Celentano". Malden could already imagine himself with Sylvania teaching him some scales and making him listen to her melodies. Her calmness, her kindness and her rigor were for him like nectar and ambrosia. He admired her terribly, and these sentimental questions about her were very recent. But he had known her for a few years already.

After a few minutes, Malden reached the main square where Sylvania and her mother lived. There was a fountain in the center, and some stone slabs decorated with flowers tended by the city's gardeners. A few people were there, including groups of children who had come to buy pancakes or ice cream, despite the cold season. Sitting under a white umbrella at one of the many tables of the local pizzeria, Sylvania was waiting patiently, her phone in hand. She had let her long red hair down, was wearing a white dress with blue polka dots and a small silver necklace and a pair of simple earrings of the same complexion. When she saw Malden, she waved at him.

- Hi! How are you? I'm so hungry! I've already reserved a table for the two of us, so what should we order? Asked she, cheerful.

- I'll probably have a salad with a slice of pizza. I'm not very hungry, but it'll do for me!

- Are you sure you'll have enough energy to listen to my news and convince me to join your group if you don't eat enough? She joked.

- Don't worry about it. I want you to join us enough, I don't need a pizza to help me!

After they had actually placed their order, the two young people ate together and talked about the rain and the weather. Malden admired the way Sylvania spoke about her extracurricular activities, but also her involvement in various social struggles. She was already very active on Signold - a well-known social network on Elzetarân - and shared many videos about animal causes and ecology. Sylvania already seemed to be a big shot and followed very closely the actions of the Renovators' Guild. It was a group of atmologists and adventurers of all kinds, formed several decades ago. They were in charge of monitoring the development of the ecosystems and biomes of Elzetari after certain confrontations, whose damage could have seriously damaged various places and destroyed the fauna, as well as the flora.

Time passed without them noticing. Soon enough, they finished their meal and went to Sylvania. Coming from a well-to-do family, they lived in a large residence where the richest inhabitants of Lausanne were to be found. The mayor, Oscar Fanghël, lived nearby with his wife and son. Malden was always impressed when he set foot in Sylvania's house: everything was always so clean! The living room seemed huge and everything he saw seemed to be priceless. The marble walls of a very light and sober

grey were decorated with paintings showing fantastic scenes. One could see atmological warriors fighting carniocs and wild creatures in the skies, unleashing various elemental forces.

- Every time you come over, you can't help but leave your eyes glued to the picture in the living room. You know I'm going to end up asking my mom if I can give it to you, right?

Malden flinched and blushed. He had never realized how much these paintings could absorb him. The idea that he might be seen to be lusting after them embarrassed him.

- Oh no, not at all! It's just... I really wish I had a talent like that. You know, I see how well the color scheme is mastered, it drives me crazy! There is the light, so well reflected, and the contrast between the atmos used by the fighters on the painting, the expression of pain on the creatures, and even the effects of the wind that blows even though we don't see it. It's beautiful. Every time I see it, I feel like it's the first one.

- I think it was Cleora Stolteïska who made this painting. I would have to see it again with my mother. And it seems to me that she is still alive. Maybe one day, if you meet her, you can ask her how she did it?

Malden's eyes seemed to light up. He began to do some research on his cell phone and found more of the painter's work.

- Wow, she's so good... If I met her, I wouldn't even know how to ask her questions. Well, anyway, I'll deal with that when I get home. For now, I have someone else talented to admire on her compositions, right?

- Don't overdo it! I'm just getting by on my mom's classes when it comes to reproducing classics. For my creations, it remains to be seen... I'm not very comfortable with the idea of doing new things, that go out of the box, I'm afraid it won't be very pleasant to the ear, also because...

- Hey, Sylva! he interrupted her. It's not serious, you have to try in life. Let me listen!

- But if you think it's ugly, you probably won't want me in your group.

- Does this mean that you want to join our group so badly that I don't actually need to convince you?

She hiccupped with surprise and put her hands in front of her mouth. Sylvania had tricked herself. She was more interested in the idea of being part of this music group that was forming than anything else, but she didn't want it to be so obvious. She would still be seen as the girl with no friends, who craved acceptance from others.

- It's true," she sighed. Well, enough wasted time. Sit down on the couch. I'll play you this little piece. I was inspired by "rocking horse" by "Etolica. ».

Without adding a word, Malden settled comfortably on the black velvet sofa. Sylvania took her turn on the small purple seat where she sat to play the piano. She had her back to him, slowly positioning her fingers on the keys. The girl took a deep breath before starting to play the first notes of her composition. The start was awkward but soon she gained confidence and began to play with more assurance. The notes flowed together with a certain smoothness.

To Malden, it was as if a beautiful story was being told. He was so impressed by her dexterity that he wanted to get closer to her to better admire her performance. However, for fear of distracting her, he preferred to stay behind and come without making any noise. She was in front of the large window, giving on a great part of the city. He admired the view as he listened to the soft melody played by his friend, while he imagined how these notes would blend with Teano's expertise on the guitar, Kieran's voice and his drumming.

The listening went on for almost three minutes, during which time Malden was totally transported. He found himself re-admiring the painting by Cleora Stolteïska that hung on the living room wall. This creation and Sylvania's composition went so well together that he imagined one day he would be a painter of masterpieces and she a professional pianist, creating melodies around his world-renowned paintings. An exciting future, from which he exited as soon as Sylvania gave the last note of her essay. A few seconds were necessary for her to come back to reality. She took again a big inspiration, then she got up and turned slowly towards her friend. The window was left open, and a cold breeze crossed the room and shook her long dress as well as her hair. An image that stuck in Malden's mind and he swore to himself that he would paint this scene.

- There, now you know my little music. I know it's probably too soft for what you're doing, but it's the best I have in stock right now.

- Sylvania, it's really beautiful. It's probably silly and simple as an opinion, but I don't know what else to add... Then, I don't play the piano, so I imagine that there are things to be revised, it's possible. But anyway, I really liked it. You know Kieran, he likes it when it moves a little bit more, but then Teano will be over the moon, you can believe me!

- Do you think so? She asked hesitantly, as she nervously played with her fingers.

- I don't think so: I know so! Will you show me some other things? Songs you learned with your mother for example, maybe we could rework some of them and see how to create other songs together from that!

- It's a good idea. So, let's see...

All afternoon long, Sylvania and Malden discussed and studied in detail different compositions, some of which they took care to select to present to Malden and Teano. Gradually, more than his ambiguous attraction to Sylvania, it was his passion for art and music that took over. He was very curious and concentrated in these tasks, as she was too.

Since the time for him to be reunited with his family was fast approaching, Malden prepared to leave to avoid being late. But just before he left, Sylvania received a phone call that seemed to puzzle her.

- An unexpected call? he asked.

- Well... It's Annabelle. You know, the girl in Sara's class.

He looked at her with a puzzled look.

- Maybe it's her mother calling? I think she works with yours, right?

- Not anymore. They kept in touch but... Well, wait. "Hello?" She says.

"Yes, Sylvania? It's Annabelle. Sorry, we haven't talked in a while, but I've been trying to reach Sara and even her brother but no one answers! »

"No worries Anna. But do you need anything? »

"This will probably sound weird to you, but my grandfather came back from a long trip a few days ago. And you'll never guess: he brought back with him a Phelidus Tenebris! »

As Sylvania turned on the speaker phone, Malden also heard the news. He struggled to keep his astonishment from being heard. The Pelidus, whatever their nature, were extremely powerful creatures and known to be dangerous.

"A Phelidus? " Sylvania repeated, worried. "It's still very dangerous! Do the authorities know that this creature is here, in Lausya? What do you want us to do for you? »

"She's dying and has little ones... six to be exact. That's a bit long, and I don't have much time. Listen, I wish you could come to my house together as soon as possible, you and Sara and the others. Grandpa will be there, he'll be able to explain. »

"I... well, okay Annabelle. I hope it's nothing serious anyway. I'll see what I can do to keep them updated and get back to you! »

"Thank you Sylva! »

She hung up her phone and looked at Malden, stunned.

- A Pelidus with babies... How often do you hear such stories?

- Even the participants of "War of the Alvists" don't have Pelidus! Malden added. The thing I remember is that his grandfather must be really good. Renyu says you can only find them at Failghost Manor. And do you know what they say about that manor?

- Yeah, that it's haunted or something... We'll talk about it again, I should let you go before your mom gives you a hard time for being late. It's already a miracle my mom wasn't there today and we got to see each other, might as well not ruin the end of the day!

- You're right, I'm leaving. I forgot one thing! I think you're meeting Teano later on, right?

- Yes, and he has to spend the night at Renyu's house right after.

- You can tell him that I did some research the other day, and I found a luthier that might be of interest to him, since he wanted to try his hand at the electric guitar.

With that, Malden and Sylvania parted ways. He walked through the spacious corridors of the building before finding himself outside, taken by the temperature which seemed to have dropped a few degrees compared to the early afternoon. Happy with this exciting afternoon, he then thought about what he would learn when he arrived at the hospital with his family. If Melva remembered him, at least for a few seconds during the visit, nothing could make him happier. But Malden refused to deny it. With his headphones in, he shuffled along, his imagination conjuring up the worst scenarios about his sister's shattered memory. His mood wavered again.

When he arrived home, his parents were getting ready to leave. Sawako was already ready, a long dark blue leather coat on her back and her black hair done up in a neat bun. Aware of her brother's difficulty in dealing with this situation, she simply patted him on the shoulder and gave him a hug.

- Don't worry Maldou, she'll remember us one day. The more we go to see her, the more it will help her.

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