#volume vii

[xbuster]

[shera-dnd]

My v9c10 prediction

[cdawgy2]

You know, being a massive Final Fantasy fan as well as a RWBY fan who’s recently gotten back into the series after a break, I’ve started to notice something.

Pyrrha Nikos and Zack Fair have a lot in common.

They both are considered some of the coolest and nicest people in their respective verses.

They both represent a lot of what another character in their stories want to be (Cloud wants to be like Zack and Jaune wants to be like Pyrrha).

And finally, they are among the strongest characters in their respective series’. Pyrrha was able to match Cinder with the Fall Maiden power, and it took a literal army to take down Zack.

And finally, their absence is still felt even years later in the story by both the characters and the audience.

Just something interesting that I noticed.

[beetletricks]

"Ruby chose Adventure, Adventure chose Oscar"

I like how this is basically the Cloud/Aerith scenario but gender swapped 

[just-aake]

Everlasting Devotion - Part VII

Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Sequel of Boundless Devotion Series. MedievalAU. With her coronation over, Natasha is now the queen of the Romanov Kingdom. However, the position comes with challenges from both old and new enemies as Natasha tries to maintain the peace while also navigating her relationship with you.

Masterlist Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

Warnings: light angst, comfort, fluff

Words: 5094

The atmosphere in the room feels tense, as if it’s holding its breath. 

Your gaze sweeps across the council chamber, absorbing the emotions radiating from each member. 

Whispers ripple through the space like a low hum of unrest, uncertainty, and, in some cases, curiosity. Some look aghast, while others lean forward, intrigued by the boldness of your proposal.

But nothing is as intense as the piercing stare you don’t need to see to feel coming from Natasha. 

You resist the urge to turn toward her, focusing on the room, keeping your expression steady as the whispers grow louder.

You expected resistance, and it came swiftly.

The loud slam of Kate’s hand against the table snaps the tension like a taut string.

"Are you crazy?!" Kate’s voice breaks into the quiet. 

The sound echoes through the chamber, drawing everyone’s attention. 

Realizing that her outburst has earned her the gaze of every council member, she stammers, quickly realizing her mistake.

“I-I mean, this is crazy, right?” Kate continues, her voice softening to a normal volume, but the urgency remains. “We’re not seriously considering putting her through that.” 

Her eyes dart around the room, seeking confirmation from the others. 

Some of them shift around uncomfortably in their seats, considering her words, but it doesn’t seem like someone will speak until, finally, another voice rises from the other side of the table. 

“Lady Kate is not wrong,” Councillor Ross remarks. 

You catch how his eyes assess you, calculating as always, but you still feel a twinge of surprise that he is essentially coming to your defense. 

His clasped hands rest calmly on the table, but you can see the gears turning behind his gaze, considering your offer.

“Lady Y/n, do you truly understand what you’re suggesting?” he asks. 

The question lingers in the air, not accusing but curious. 

The way he says it, it is almost like he’s intrigued by your audacity, as though he’s wondering whether you're willing to go through something so extreme just to prove your loyalty. 

That shows how much he underestimates you.

“I wouldn’t have offered the idea if I didn’t mean it,” you respond evenly.

Ross’s eyes narrow slightly in observation of your resolve, but after a pause, he gives a slow, acknowledging nod. 

“Then the only thing left,” he continues, his gaze flicking sideways, “would be permission for the serum’s use.”

And just like that, the attention shifts. All eyes turn to Natasha.

You feel it like a pull, that moment when you can’t avoid it anymore. Your chest tightens as you finally meet her gaze fully.

Natasha sits still as stone. The subtle, icy tension in her shoulders and jaw betrays the storm swirling beneath her otherwise calm exterior. Her hands, which rest tensely on the table before her, tighten into faint fists. 

Her face remains impassive, but you easily notice the faint frown and the slight narrowing of her sharp green eyes, which shows her displeasure.

In any other situation, you’d be the first to reach for and comfort her. 

But right now, you’re the one who put her in this position. 

To be the one who makes the decision.

“Her majesty’s permission?” Ross repeats as if to twist the knife.

Natasha’s eyes flick to Ross briefly in irritation before locking back on you. Her gaze burns, filled with emotions—frustration, worry, reluctance. 

She hates this. 

You can see it in the way her fingers flex, in the tension radiating off her, as though she’s seconds away from pulling you out of this room to prevent you from going through with such a drastic plan.

But she doesn’t.

Instead, after a long, drawn-out pause, she speaks, her voice steady and controlled but laced with a subtle edge. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

Her words are meant for you alone. 

Her gaze searches yours, not as a queen addressing a member of the court, but as Natasha—your Natasha, the woman who cares for you more than anyone in this room.

She’s giving you an out—a way to step back from this without judgment, without consequences.

You take a breath, meeting her gaze head-on. 

You could tell her that you don’t have to do this, that you could find another way to prove your loyalty. 

But that would be a lie. 

The truth is, you’re tired of the whispers, the sideways glances. You’re tired of the scrutiny and suspicion that follows your every move. 

This is the only way to clear your name once and for all, and you both know it.

“Yes,” you reply, voice firm. 

A flash of regret and resignation crosses Natasha’s face, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. 

She straightens, her posture regal, and when she speaks again, it’s as Queen Natasha.

“Then let’s proceed with the serum.” 

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

A brief recess was called, giving Steve time to retrieve the serum from its secure location within the castle. 

Despite the break, the tension in the room remained palpable, and you could feel the eyes of every council member on you as you waited in a corner.

When Steve returns, the weight of what will occur settles in. He pours the serum into a small cup, handing it to you with a somber expression.

The serum is bitter as you swallow it, the acrid taste lingering in your throat, making you grimace. 

Steve hands you a handkerchief, offering a sympathetic nod. 

“Let’s get you something to wash that down,” he says, stepping away. 

You wipe your mouth with the cloth, turning slightly to hide your following words from the rest of the room. 

“I don’t think it’s a good look, with you hovering this closely,” you whisper toward Natasha, who stands a short distance from you. 

Even without glancing at her, you could feel her protective energy radiating across the space, her sharp gaze sweeping over anyone who dared to look your way. 

Her arms are crossed, her stance rigid, a defiant shield between you and the scrutiny of the others.

“If they have a problem with where I stand, they can take it up with me,” she replies sharply.

Before you can respond, a soft voice cuts through the tension. 

“Um, I kind of have a problem with where I am.” Kate, positioned in the awkward buffer zone between you and Natasha, looks sheepish as she glances between the two of you. “It feels like I’m intruding on…whatever moment this is.”

“We’re not supposed to have ‘moments,’ Kate,” you remind her, keeping your voice low. 

“Right,” Kate nods in understanding. “Yelena told me about that. But if that’s the case, Natasha, maybe you should stop staring at Y/n during the meeting. I don’t think your eyes left her once.” 

You stifle a small laugh, pressing the handkerchief to your mouth, as Natasha groans lightly, clearly caught off guard by the comment.

Before Natasha can respond, Steve returns with Maria, who hands you a cup of water to help wash away the bitter aftertaste. 

You give her a brief nod of thanks, and Maria places a gentle hand on your shoulder in a comforting gesture.

Natasha's reaction is subtle, but you catch the tightening of her jaw and the slight frown that tugged at her lips as she watched the exchange. 

Her eyes linger on Maria’s hand, but she says nothing, forcing herself to look away as she straightens.

Once you finish drinking, Kate pokes your arm, her curiosity piqued. 

“So, how do we know if it’s working?”

Steve glances at you, assessing. 

“It should take effect soon,” he explains before asking. “How do you feel?”

Without thinking, you respond honestly. 

“Nervous,” you admit. “I’m not sure if this is the right move or if this is going to end well.”

Natasha’s gaze flicks to you with a look of slight astonishment, her usually composed expression softening for a brief second. 

You glance around, noticing the others with similar reactions.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, your brow furrowing in confusion.

“Nothing,” Natasha says, shaking her head slightly. “It’s just...you usually brush off questions like that with responses like ‘I’m fine’ or ‘I can handle it.’”

Your response is immediate, unguarded, and unfiltered.

“That’s because you always get worried and overprotective about me over every little thing. I don’t always need you to step in, Natasha.” 

The words spill out before you realize what you had said, your eyes widening as your hand flies to your mouth. 

The serum had stripped away the usual barriers between your thoughts and your speech, allowing your inner feelings to come out with no reservations.

An awkward silence follows, heavy and charged with unspoken emotions. 

Natasha blinks, clearly taken aback, her usual stoic demeanor momentarily cracking as she tries to process your words.

Kate, sensing the tension, speaks up with a light tone.

“I guess the serum’s working.”

“Yeah,” Natasha mutters, her frown deepening as she glances away, clearly affected by what you’ve said.

You feel a pang of guilt, seeing the expression you’d caused. 

“I’m sorry, that’s not what I wanted to—”

“Let’s just finish this,” Natasha cut in, her voice tight as she moved toward the center table.

With a sigh, you follow her lead, returning to your seat. 

The rest of the council members settled in as well, and once everyone was seated, Lord Sitwell wasted no time resuming his earlier line of questioning.

“How can we be sure the serum is working correctly?” he asks, skepticism dripping from his words.

You tilt your head slightly, and a sharp retort slips out before you can stop yourself.

“You’re welcome to try it yourself, Lord Sitwell. Although, we all know you prefer hiding behind words rather than action.”

Your hand flies to your mouth again, but the damage is already done. 

Sitwell's face flushes with embarrassment and anger as snickers and amused murmurs spread through the room. 

“You insolent—” he begins, rising from his chair.

But before he could continue, Ross’s voice cut through the tension. 

“Lord Sitwell, enough." His tone is cold and final. "You’ve had your chance. This interrogation has gone on long enough without results. Sit down.”

Sitwell glares at you, but he complies, settling back into his seat with a huff.

Ross turns his attention to you, his scrutinizing stare unnerving, and for a moment, you wonder if facing Sitwell was the lesser of two evils. 

“To reiterate, we’re here to determine the threat your family poses to the kingdom.” His gaze remains fixed on you as he continues. “Evidence suggests your father had a hand in the recent attack. But do you know what his true intentions were?”

You feel the weight of the council’s scrutiny again. They are waiting for the truth, whatever it might be.

Taking a deep breath, you answer.

“He wanted war. To destroy the Romanovs and Starks in retaliation for their alliance toward peace.”

Ross leans forward, placing his clasped hands on the table. 

“And what about you?”

“I believe in the peace they've built," you reply firmly. “And as I’ve said, I would never want to harm Natasha or her family.

Some council members nod, seemingly reassured by your words, but Ross’s expression remains hard, unyielding.

“Lady Y/n, do you consider yourself a threat to the kingdom?” 

Frowning slightly in suspicion, you hesitate, feeling the shift in his questioning. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Natasha tense, her posture rigid as she prepares for whatever is to come.

“I’m a capable individual,” you reply, keeping your voice steady. “But I’m no traitor.”

Ross nods slowly in acknowledgment, though his eyes give no reassurance. 

“Raised under your father’s and Madam B’s guidance, as well as Queen Melina’s. I’m sure you’ve learned a lot from them,” he comments, his finger tapping the table lightly in consideration before continuing. “Which brings us to one of our main concerns–the possibility of replicating their actions.”

You let out a disbelieving huff, starting to protest, “I wouldn’t—”

But Ross cut you off. 

“This isn’t a question about intent, but your capability,” he clarifies, his voice sharp. “Lady Y/n, do you believe you possess the knowledge to control someone?” 

The truth settles heavily on your shoulders as you recall everything you’ve researched and learned about the subject. 

Under the serum's influence, you couldn't lie. 

“Yes,” you admit in a small whisper.

A murmur of discomfort ripples through the room.

Your hand trembles, nerves tightening in response to the shifting atmosphere. To steady yourself, you grip the edge of the table to stop the movement before anyone notices as Ross presses further.

“If it was someone else who had that knowledge, would you consider them a high-risk individual?”

“Yes,” you reply quietly, your voice barely audible. 

A heavy silence falls over the room as everyone considers your answer. You try to take a moment to compose yourself when Ross suddenly shifts the focus. 

“Wanda Maximoff,” he begins, causing you to tense in realization of his next subject. “From what we know so far, her abilities are clearly dangerous. She subdued an entire group in mere moments during the last incident, didn’t she?”

“She was protecting my friends,” you defend, a protective edge in your voice. 

“That doesn’t change how powerful she appears to be,” Ross continues smoothly. “And it’s clear that she’s loyal to you. My question is–if, in the future, you ever disagreed with the crown, would she follow you or the will of the kingdom?”

You close your eyes briefly in dismay, the answer already on the tip of your tongue.

“She would follow me,” you confess softly.

More murmurs fill the room, the tension thickening with discomfort.

“Then wouldn’t it be reasonable to conclude that you are an even more dangerous risk?” Ross asks plainly, emphasizing his point. 

Before you could respond, Kate slams her hand on the table, breaking the tension.

“This is unfair!” she exclaims. “Y/n would never do any of this!”

Ross dismisses her with a glance. 

“Thank you, Lady Kate. But resentment and reasons can always form,” his gaze shifts back to you with a pointed look. “...especially when personal relationships are involved.”

You frown, seeing where this is headed.

“You're talking about my relationship with Natasha,” you say flatly. 

Ross nods. 

“It appears that your attempt at a deeper relationship didn’t work out in the end. Would you consider that a cause for concern?”

You scoff lightly in disbelief. 

You knew he didn’t think you were an appropriate partner for Natasha, but you can’t believe he would be so insulting of the years you two have shared with each other.

“I value my friendship with Natasha,” you say firmly. “That won’t change, regardless of romantic matters.”

He fixes you with a scrutinizing gaze. 

“So, if she chose someone else to be her partner, would you accept it without resentment?” he challenges.

Natasha, who had been quietly sitting with her growing frustration at the entire situation, finally had enough. She snaps at Ross in warning, her voice cutting through like steel. 

“That’s inappropriate—”

“I’d accept it.” 

The room falls into a stunned silence, the weight of your words hanging in the air. 

Slowly, Natasha turns her head toward you, disbelief etched across her face. 

But you don’t meet her gaze, your head bowed as you continue.

“If Natasha chose to be with someone else,” you repeat, your voice steady, though your heart clenches painfully in your chest at the truth. “I’d accept it with no resentment.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

You groan in frustration, pressing your palms to your temples as a dull pounding begins to throb in your head. 

The aftermath of the council meeting weighed heavily on you, and the headache only made it feel worse.

How was it that you both proved that you didn’t wish to harm the kingdom while also ending up showing you were one of its biggest potential threats?

You let out a deep sigh, dropping your face into your hands, the increasing frustration bubbling inside you.

“I believe I told you about the aftereffects of the serum when I initially talked to you about it,” Melina’s voice cut through the quiet room, her tone a gentle reprimand as she placed a steaming cup on the table beside you. 

The concoction was supposed to help ease the pounding in your head and alleviate the symptoms until the serum left your system.

After the council meeting finally came to an agonizing close, Steve quickly ushered you to the former Queen’s lab. 

Melina had requested to examine you to ensure the serum wasn’t causing any lasting damage. 

The familiar room felt safe and comforting enough, but your mind was still tangled with the meeting's aftermath. 

You glance at the cup but make no immediate move to drink it. Instead, you sigh again before responding to her comment.

“I know, but I just wanted to prove to them that they’re wrong about me,” you admit before muttering under your breath. “Especially that stupid councilor.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you wince. 

The serum was still loosening your tongue, making you spill your thoughts unfiltered. 

You can feel your cheeks heating, the embarrassment creeping in as you glance at the previous queen.

Melina raises a brow, a hint of amusement flickering across her face. 

“Stupid councilor?” she echoes, her lips twitching into a smirk.

You mumble an embarrassed apology. “I’m sorry.” 

Melina chuckles, her laugh a soothing contrast to the tension that had filled the council chamber earlier. 

“Don’t worry. That man does have that effect on people. Persistent and annoying at times, but his heart is in the right place—he cares about the kingdom.” 

You groan again, this time leaning against the arm of the chair.

“Maybe, but right now, all he and the others see is a threat,” you mutter sadly. “Not just because I’m not a suitable partner for Natasha, but because I’m a danger to everyone.

Melina’s frown deepens at your words, a look of sympathy softening her features. 

“Who says you’re not suitable—”

She is interrupted by a knock at the door, followed by a familiar voice. 

“Can I come in?” Natasha calls from the other side, her voice a little too casual, as if she were trying to mask her urgency. 

Melina gives you a knowing look, a slight roll of her eyes following as she mutters.

“That didn’t take long.” 

As soon as she opens the door, Natasha slips into the room, trying to appear nonchalant as she launches into her excuse. 

“Hey, I know I’ve been too busy to come by and discuss those details about my birthday like you’ve asked, but I had some spare time and thought I would drop by now to see—” 

“Save it,” Melina interrupts, crossing her arms as she levels her daughter with an unimpressed stare. “You’re not here for me.” 

Natasha squints at her mother suspiciously before shifting her gaze toward you. 

Her brow raises slightly in question, clearly curious about how much her mother had figured out. 

You give her a sheepish smile, shrugging slightly. 

“She knows we didn’t actually break up.”

Natasha hums in acknowledgment, nodding as though it all made sense now. She turns back to her mother, arms crossing defensively. 

“That explains why you never came to talk to me about it.” 

Melina raises a brow at her daughter, shaking her head in exasperation. 

“Really, Natasha. You should already know that the only person you can fool in this family with these kinds of things is your father.” 

Natasha rolls her eyes, brushing off the remark with a exasperated huff. 

“Alright, then. Can I have a moment alone with Y/n now?” 

Melina sighs, casting a glance between the two of you before making her way toward the door. As she passes Natasha, she points back at you. 

“Make sure she drinks that,” she says, nodding toward the kettle she had placed on the table, “every now and again until the headache subsides and the serum is out of her system.”

“Okay,” Natasha agrees with a nod, her voice softer now as her concerned gaze settles on you, scanning you as if assessing the damage from both the serum and the day’s events. 

Before Melina leaves, she places a firm hand on Natasha’s shoulder, offering a warning glance. 

“And don’t think I’ve forgotten about your birthday celebration. We will discuss that sooner rather than later.” 

Natasha groans audibly, her shoulders sagging at the mention. 

“I’ll make time for it,” she promises half-heartedly, earning a smirk from her mother. 

Melina gives one final nod at you before closing the door behind her, leaving you and Natasha in the quiet of the lab. 

Natasha doesn’t waste a second. 

As soon as the door clicks shut, she is at your side, her fingers gently brushing against your arm. 

“Are you okay?” Her voice is low, full of concern. 

You sigh, leaning into her touch. 

“I don’t know,” you admit, the serum still forcing you to speak more honestly than you would have liked. “That whole meeting was a disaster.” 

Natasha frowns, her brows knitting together as she leans closer, her hand resting fully on your arm. 

“It wasn’t all bad. You did well, considering the circumstances.”

You let your head rest against her shoulder, taking a moment to breathe in the familiar comfort of her touch before sighing. 

“Did I, though?” you ask, your voice quieter now, laced with doubt. “Because it feels like I just confirmed everything they were afraid of.”

Natasha’s grip on your arm tightens just a little, her voice firm. 

“You told the truth. That’s what matters.”

Her words remind you of your earlier actions, and you lift your head to meet her gaze, an apology already forming in your expression. 

“I really am sorry about what I said…about you being overprotective. It came out harsher than I would have liked.”

Natasha sighs, her eyes softening as she tilts her head back, considering her actions these past weeks. 

“I guess…I have been a little overprotective lately.”

“A little?” you ask, raising an amused brow. 

She lets out a soft laugh. 

“Fine. Excessively,” she admits. 

Her voice grows softer, more vulnerable, as her gaze locks onto yours. 

Natasha cups your cheek gently, her thumb brushing your skin with careful tenderness. 

“But you almost died not too long ago,” her voice trembles slightly at the memory, “and then you were attacked the moment you left my side. So, yeah, I’m worried.” 

Her confession hangs in the air between you, the raw emotion in her voice sending a pang of warmth through your chest. 

Natasha is always so strong and composed, but here, with you, her walls are down. 

You can feel the depth of her fear, her love, and her desperation to keep you safe. 

Reaching up, you place your hand over hers on your cheek. 

“I’m still here,” you reassure. “And I’m going to keep fighting. For the kingdom.” You tilt your head, pressing closer into her hand and giving her a soft smile. 

“For you.” 

Natasha’s breath catches, her eyes glistening as she searches yours, seeing the honesty and love in them. 

For a moment, the room feels smaller and quieter, as if the weight of the world is suspended, leaving only the two of you in this space.

But then Natasha remembered what had been revealed towards the end of the meeting.

“You said you’d accept it if I chose someone else as my partner,” Natasha says suddenly, her voice quiet, almost hesitant. 

Such a thought never crossed her mind, and Natasha frowns at the idea that you’ve already prepared yourself for such an unthinkable possibility.

She leans in closer, her forehead pressing against yours, her breath warm against your skin. 

“But I don’t want someone else.”

Her words make your heart race at the sudden reassurance.

Natasha’s eyes are steady, her hand slipping down from your cheek to take your hand, her thumb gently brushing over your knuckles in a slow, comforting rhythm.

“I don’t want anyone else,” she repeats, her voice firmer this time, ensuring that you hear the seriousness in her tone. 

“I just want you.”

You swallow hard, the tension in your chest loosening as the depth of her words. 

Her eyes remain locked into yours, and you don’t need the serum to know she’s telling the truth.

You shake your head lightly with a fond smile.

“The charming princess always has the smoothest lines,” you tease. 

Natasha smirks, leaning in closer. 

“You mean Queen,” she corrects, her voice lowering.

You chuckle, your eyes briefly flicking to her lips, and before you can stop yourself, the thought slips out, unfiltered and raw. 

“I really want to kiss you right now,” you whisper, your cheeks immediately heating up as your eyes widen in realization at what you’ve just said aloud. 

You groan, burying your face in your hands, mortified by the serum’s continued hold over your honesty. 

Natasha’s laugh is soft but bright, and you shoot her a half-hearted glare from between your fingers. 

She just smirks back at you, her amusement only deepening. 

“Consider this payback for all the times you teased me for being unable to resist you,” she quips, her voice playful and her eyes dancing with that familiar spark you know all too well. 

Despite the embarrassment, you can’t help but smile fondly at her. 

Natasha’s teasing is a welcome relief, a reminder that even through the pressures of the day, there’s still room for moments like these between you. 

Moments of lightness, of laughter, of…love. 

Eventually, Natasha’s amused expression fades into something softer, more intimate. 

She reaches out, gently pulling your hands away from your face. Her fingers lace with yours, the warmth of her touch sending a ripple of comfort through you. 

“Teasing aside, I am happy to hear how you still want me,” she remarks softly, her voice tender and sincere.

You tilt your head slightly in confusion, puzzled by her words. 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Natasha gives a small, almost self-conscious shrug, a faint smile tugging at her lips. 

“Just my thoughts scaring me while I couldn’t see you,” she says before exhaling. ”I wondered if...maybe you’d changed your mind about us.”

Without hesitation, you wrap your arms around her neck, your fingers instinctively threading through her hair, gently playing with the soft strands—just as you’ve always done to comfort her.

“You worry too much,” you tease gently.

Natasha chuckles lightly, nodding in agreement.

“I do.” 

For a moment, the two of you simply look at each other, the unspoken feelings and emotions that have been building over the past few days hanging between you. 

Until Natasha can’t resist the pull of you anymore.

Slowly, Natasha leans in, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss, soft and tentative yet brimming with the emotions you’ve both held back. 

It’s not rushed or hesitant; instead, it’s like a quiet promise, filled with affection and unspoken devotion. 

You melt into her touch, the world around you fading as the kiss deepens. 

When Natasha finally pulls back, breathless and content, her forehead gently rests against yours, a soft smile on her lips.

“That was worth waiting for,” she whispers warmly, her voice full of affection.

You return her smile, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Definitely,” you murmur, still feeling the lingering effects of the kiss, though a dull pounding in your head makes you wince slightly.

Natasha notices and glances at the cup of medicine Melina has left on the table. Her playful smirk fades, replaced by concern.

“You should drink that before the headache gets worse,” she says gently, her tone shifting to one of care.

With a small groan, you obediently reach for the cup. The liquid has cooled, but its bitterness still bites as you take a sip, grimacing.

Natasha watches closely, her hand resting on your arm, a quiet, reassuring presence beside you. As you continue drinking, Natasha’s posture suddenly tenses, remembering something. 

Sensing something is bothering her, you glance at her curiously.

Realizing she’s been caught, Natasha clears her throat, her gaze dropping momentarily before she speaks, her voice hesitant. 

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

You pause mid-sip, lowering the cup slightly, giving her your full attention.

“What is it?” you ask.

Natasha takes a deep breath, her fingers tracing slow circles on the back of your hand as she carefully considers her words.

“I received a letter recently,” she begins cautiously.

You flash her a teasing grin, raising the cup back to your lips.

“Another marriage offer?” 

But Natasha doesn’t react to your teasing as she usually would. Her expression remains serious and hesitant. After a moment, she decides it's best to tell you so you’d be prepared.

“Stark is set to arrive in the kingdom soon,” she reveals.

You choke on your sip, sputtering as the liquid goes down the wrong way. 

Natasha's eyes widen, and she immediately pats your back, concern flooding her expression.

“Are you okay?” she asks, worry etched in her voice.

You nod weakly, still coughing as you manage to set the cup down, your mind spinning from her words.

“I’m fine,” you rasp, trying to process the information. Shaking your head lightly in disbelief, you turn your focus to Natasha. “Did you say Stark, as in Tony Stark?”

Natasha nods, her hand still resting on your back. 

“Yeah, Tony Stark. He’s coming in a few weeks to discuss the peace treaty.”

At her confirmation, your thoughts race, the news triggering an alarm in your mind. 

The suspicion you’d felt earlier today starts creeping back, stirring unease. You look at Natasha, anxiety building.

“Are you sure the letter said he wouldn't be here for a few weeks?” you ask, your voice tight with apprehension.

Natasha frowns, confusion in her eyes.

“Yes, why? Is something wrong?”

You bite your lip, not wanting to raise more concern just yet. Shaking your head lightly, you give her a reassuring smile.

“It’s probably nothing. Thanks for telling me.”

Natasha narrows her eyes slightly, suspicion flashing in her gaze, but she lets it go, leaning her head gently against yours.

“Is the medicine helping?”

You nod, closing your eyes and leaning further into her.

“Yes, but this helps a lot more.”

Natasha wraps her arms around you, letting you rest fully against her, offering a brief moment of comfort against the growing unease inside you.

There’s no way the Tony fixing your manor is the Tony Stark. It has to be a coincidence.

You just need to make sure.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

a/n: thank you for reading! I’m glad to see that you all still enjoy this universe and its story.

If you asked to be tagged and I missed it, please let me know again.

Taglist : @midastouch013, @2silverchain, @dvrkhcld, @observeowl, @x-drowned-x, @fireandblood-3, @natsxwife, @leequifey, @blacklightsposts, @srt-sah, @scar-letwidow, @likefirenrain, @autorasexy, @natsbiggestfan1, @lex13cm, @iheartjohansson, @tofu9162, @nothanksbye07, @unexpected-character, @natashasilverfox, @acciowriting, @qtreesfanstuff, @mrsrushman, @inarayofmoonlight, @viosblog112, @inarayofmoonlight, @maximoff-jp

[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - series masterlist (joel miller x f!reader)

series summary: Twenty years later, Joel still doesn’t know how to describe what you were to him. You’d never made any promises to each other, but you loved his daughter like she was your own. Had he known what was going to happen, he wouldn't have let you go.

description: plot inspired partially by this request. pre-outbreak! joel miller x f!reader, slow burn(ish), eventual smut. will end up covering game/tv show events. reader does not have a name, and there's no use of y/n, but she does have a fully fleshed-out backstory, friends/family with names.

warnings (will update as needed): fluff, angst, romance. multiple pov's. time jumps. smut (18+ only, minors DNI), alcohol use, marijuana use, descriptions of absent & abusive parents, eventual canon-typical violence & content. More specific warnings on each chapter.

a/n: super excited about this one, i've had so many ideas for it and it has been a pleasure to write! will try to update roughly every week or so, but i have a full-time job, so it just depends on what i can reasonably accomplish. i don't rush things out before they are ready, so please be patient. :)

I do not have a taglist. Please follow @ftcwriting and turn on notifications if you would like to be notified when I update :)

fic playlist | writing masterlist | read on a03

chapters 14/14 - complete "*" = contains smut

volume i volume ii volume iii volume iv volume v* volume vi* volume vii* volume viii* volume ix volume x volume xi volume xii volume xiii volume xiv*

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Fashion History

for your next poem/story (pt. 1/2)

1850-1879

The Civil War began in 1861 and ended in 1865, heavily impacting the lives of those living during the time period. In fashion, the rise of the sewing machine allowed more decorative effects to be used in dress, and new aniline dyes paved the way for brighter shades of dress.

This time is known as the Crinoline Period because cage crinoline made of whalebone or steel hoops replaced heavy layers of petticoats, and were commonly worn under dresses by women of the time.

One trend that hit its peak in the 1870s was the bustle, an item women secured under the back portion of their skirts to add volume.

In terms of silhouette, a narrow waist with a fitted bodice and full skirts was the recurrent style. Popular sleeve styles included pagoda sleeves, gathered bishop sleeves, and the coat sleeve.

During the day, high necklines were appropriate, but women often wore lower necklines in the evening.

Wraps and shawls were commonly worn, and accessories such as parasols, gloves, snoods, and bonnets were highly desired.

1870-1900

The years 1870-1900 include what is known as the Bustle period, in which the popular silhouette shifted from full skirts to a more fitted look characterized by fullness in the back.

Throughout the Bustle period of the 1870s and 1880s, a variety of padded devices were utilized to create back fullness, as the bustle took on different forms.

The bustle of the first stage (1870-1878) was achieved through manipulation of drapery and the use of decorative details such as flounces and bows at the back.

From (1878-1883) fullness dropped to below the hips and decorative effects of the skirt became focused low as a result.

Long trains and heavy fabrics also helped to emphasize the focus on the rear.

The latter part of the decade (1884-1890) saw the bustle at its largest. Often referred to as the shelf bustle, it was rigid and took on the appearance of an almost horizontal projection. At this time, skirts shortened to several inches above the floor and rarely had trains, with the exception of some evening dresses.

Additionally, they include the 1890's, which are often referred to as the Gay Nineties or La Belle Epoque. Times were good, Paris was the center of high fashion, and for those who could afford it, dress was lavish and highly decorative.

The corset continued to be worn, aligning with the fashionable silhouette of a full bust and hips with a narrow waist.

Dress ensembles typically consisted of two pieces -- a bodice and matching skirt.

The one-piece princess dress, worn by some during the latter part of the period, was an exception. Bodices were often fitted, with the cuirass bodice style emerging from around 1878-1883.

Sleeves were close-fitting and ended at either three quarters or at the wrist.

Evening dresses were differentiated by their lavish trimmings, level of ornamentation, trained skirts, and short sleeves. Weighted silk offered greater body and was a popular choice for dresses beginning in the 1870s.

Full sleeves were at their largest in 1895, before they gradually decreased in size towards the turn of the century.

By the 1890s, sleeve with fullness were only seen with small puffs at the shoulders.

Tailor-made costumes consisted of wool or serge skirts worn with a shirtwaist blouse. and were considered ideal for traveling.

Shirtwaist blouses were often accessorized by cravats and jabots. The variety of outerwear for women increased during the late nineteenth century and was dominated by coats, jackets, and wraps.

Accessories of the period included small hats, gloves, muffs, decorative fans, and parasols.

1900s

The first decade of the twentieth century is often referred to as “La Belle Époque” - French for "the beautiful age." During this time, Paris reigned as the capital of art and fashion, extravagance and opulence was in, and French couture became all the rage.

Edward VII became King of England with the death of Queen Victoria in 1901, ushering in the “Edwardian Era.”

Additionally, Henry Ford's Model-T was introduced in 1908.

Art Nouveau influenced fashion and ornamentation with the popularity of curvy shapes, floral prints, and ornamentation.

And with the introduction of Ford's Model-T, "motoring garments", such as duster coats and goggles, became essential for automobile riding.

The dominant silhouette of the period was the S-bend hourglass shape, which was achieved through the use of long bell or trumpet skirts that swept the ground, and the “monobosom” fullness of the front bodice.

Voluminous sleeves were another popular feature of turn-of-the-century fashion. Women still wore tightly-boned corsets, along with layers of petticoats. Two-piece ensembles were introduced, consisting of a skirt and a shirtwaist blouse. Garments often featured necklines with high standing collars for daytime and exceptionally low décolleté necklines for evening wear.

Lingerie dresses — flowing white gowns with lace detailing — were a popular choice for outdoor hot weather. Pale colors and un-patterned fabrics adorned with lace or embroidery were favored in this style. Shoes and boots exhibited pointed toes, and parasols were a must-have accessory for outdoors. Elaborate, often large hats decorated with bird feathers enjoyed heightened popularity.

1910s

The War Years (1914-1918) resulted in simpler styles, with moderation in fabric usage as well as the use of darker hues. As a result, garments of this period often have a more utilitarian and masculine appearence.

The “teens,” as the 1910s are often referred to, saw sweeping changes in fashion due to the work of French designer Paul Poiret, who was largely inspired by both the exoticism and color of the Far East and the Ballet Russes. “Orientalism” in fashion became all the rage and was seen in kimono-shaped coats, capes, saturated colors, and exotic embellishments.

Popular trends included the “peg-top” silhouette with hip fullness, Paul Poiret’s narrow-at-ankle “hobble skirt”, and Mariano Fortuny’s “Delphos gown” which featured his secret pleating technique.

Tunic dresses were also introduced, and featured a short skirt layered over a longer one. Necessitated by the new shapes in fashion, the hourglass S-bend silhouette transitioned into a more column-like, tubular form with a higher waistline. Brassieres replaced tight corsets and accommodated the soft, unfitted tea gown, a popular choice for afternoon hosting. The wide-brim hat continued to be a fashionable accessory and shoes began to replace boots.

1920s

The year 1920 marked the beginning of Prohibition, as well as the end of the Suffrage Movement, with women gaining the right to vote.

King Tutankhamen’s tomb was discovered in 1922, further fueling the taste for the exotic, and creating an obsession with all things Egyptian.

The Harlem Renaissance ushered in the Jazz Age; sleeveless dresses with shorter hemlines and sequin, bead, and fringe embellishment enhanced and enabled the fast-paced dance movements of the Charleston and Fox Trot.

The "Roaring Twenties" were years of major change for both fashion and society.

Besides major cultural events inspiring change, fashion was also influenced by Art Deco through the use of straight lines and geometric forms in both silhouette and decoration. The twenties silhouette was straight and tubular, and dresses deemphasized female curves, breasts, and hips.

Chemise dresses hung straight from the body and helped created this fashionable linear silhouette. The “flapper,” with her bobbed-hair and boyish silhouette, became the epitome of the fashionable look of the period. Hemlines rose, revealing more of the female leg for the first time in dress history, and shifting the focus to shoes for the first time.

During the period, Gabrielle “Coco” Chanel popularized costume jewelry — as well as wool jersey suits.

The cloche, a bell-shaped hat, was “the” hat to have.

Small beaded purses and long beaded necklaces were popular accessories.

1930s

The defining event of the 1930s was the Great Depression.

The stock market crash of 1929 and the ensuing depression created a need for less expensive garments without elaborate ornamentation. Designers of the period therefore relied on seam lines and darts as major forms of embellishment. Clothing that was cheaper and diversified was critical, thus creating the need for ready-to-wear fashion.

The overwhelming popularity of the movies in the 1930s helped perpetuate the ideals of “Hollywood glamour.” Women began looking to screen stars for inspiration in fashion, hairstyles, makeup, and even demeanor. The movies, and the glamorous lifestyle they portrayed, were a way for the public to escape the harsh realities of the Depression.

Designers such as Elsa Schiaparelli incorporated concepts of Surrealist Art into fashion designs, offering fantastical creations that also provided a flight from reality.

The 1930s also saw the birth of American sportswear and two-piece bathing suits for women. The decade saw a continuation of the linear shape of the 1920s, but with a leaner, longer, more feminine silhouette. The waistline returned to its natural position and hemlines dropped. Evening fabrics tended to be pale or white solids of silk or satin, and the backless evening gown was introduced at this time.

French designer Madeleine Vionnet created the “Bias Cut”, which produced a “liquid” clinging effect on the body. Hats of all varieties were widely worn, and a right-angle tilt was a common way hats were styled. Shoes featured low heels and rounded toes. Costume jewelry and fur added the final touch of fashionable glamor.

1940s

World War II began in 1939, ushering in a new conservatism in fashion. Fashion designers were forced to close their houses in Paris, and “practicality” became the new buzzword in fashion, with a focus on producing sensible styles and “utility garments” which required a minimum quantity of fabric.

In the United States, the L-85 Limiting Order aimed to freeze the war-time silhouette and stop rapid seasonal changes in styles in order to conserve fabric use. Tailored suits and military-influenced styles were seen in items such as belts, breast pockets, high necklines, and small collars. Both clothing and hair were influenced by the war.

For women who worked in factories, superfluous decoration and long hair posed safety threats. Hairstyles and makeup became an integral way to achieve personal style, since clothing and accessories were rationed.

Hollywood stars such as Veronica Lake, Rita Hayworth, and Bette Davis were significant influencers of fashion. American designers began developing sportswear collections, spurred by the necessity of the war-time focus on the ideals of simplicity and utility.

Casual separates, shirtwaist dresses, slim skirts with patch pockets, and halter and square necklines became popular. Women could also be seen wearing trousers, although it was mainly for utilitarian purposes, not everyday wear. 

The 1940s silhouette was tailored and narrow, with a nipped-in waistline and squared shoulders achieved through the use of shoulder pads. Hemlines rose to just below the knee. In light of rationed fashion, hats allowed an individual fashion statement, and small styles such as veiled pillboxes and berets, often worn at a right angle, were most popular. Shoes were usually chunky with rounded toes and featured either low-heeled or wedge soles.

Leg makeup was also introduced and offered women a remedy to the rationing of nylon stockings.

More Notes: On Fashion ⚜ Writing Notes & References

[dunmeshistash]

Dungeon Meshi - "Dungeon Meals" from volumes 5 to 8

More info under the cut

These are from chapter 29 to 56 (Volumes 5 to 8)

1 to 4

There were a total of 24 'Meals' this time in 28 chapters, for more info on the counting check the first post

Here's the meals of each chapter and who made them.

Chapter 29 - Red Dragon VII Meal: Boneless Dragon Ham Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 30 - Good Medicine Meal: Orcish Decoction Cooked by: Leed

Chapter 31 - Dryad Meal: Jack-O-Lantern Potage & Sauteed Dryad Buds with Cheese Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 33 - Sea Serpent, part 2 Meal: Portable Meal Set For Adventurers Cooked by: ? (ready made rations)

Chapter 34 - Cockatrice Meal: Eisbein-Style Cockatrice & Dyad Bud Sauerkraut With a Side of Grilled Anti-Petrify Herb Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 35 - Cleaners Meal 1: Cockatrice & Egg Ankake Cooked by: Senshi Meal 2: Stone Dish Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 36 - Dried with Sweet Sake (Mirinboshi) Meal: Eastern Style Cuisine Cooked by: Maizuru, Senshi and Chilchuck (Benichidori, Hien and Tade helped with prepping)

Chapter 38 - Chimera Meal: Omelette Made With a Harpy Egg Cooked by: Laios with Senshi's help

Chapter 40 - Shapeshifter 2 Meal: Memories of the 5th Floor Pilaf, Sweet Dyad and Whole 5th Floor Piccata Cooked by: Shapeshifters, Senshi, Marcille and Chilchuck

Chapter 41 - Hag Meal: Risotto Made From Mushrooms Collected at the Graveyard & Cheese from the Orcs Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 42 - Nightmare Meal: Nightmare Steamed in Alcohol Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 43- Ice Golem Meal: Ice Golem Chawan-Mushi & Cooked Fish that was Inside the Ice Golem Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 44 - Barometz Meal: Barometz Balut (Alternative Name: Barometz Chops) Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 45 - Egg Meal: Souful Eggs Benedict Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 46 - The Golden Country Meal: Vegetables in Jellied Slime, Rack of Beef Ribs, Bladefish Loaf, Potato and Rabbit Soup Cooked by: Golden Country Citizens

Chapter 47 - Griffin Meal: The Breakfast Senshi Made (Pancakes, Sausage, Pumpkin Soup, Scrambled Eggs) Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 48 - Familiars Meal: Skyfish and Chips Cooked by: Laios

Chapter 49 - Griffin Soup Meal 1: Griffin Soup (Upper Body), Griffin Soup (Lower Body) Cooked by: Senshi Meal 2: Hippogriff Soup Cooked by: Laios

Chapter 50 - Dumplings 1 Meal: Hippogriff Dumplings Cooked by: Senshi, Laios, Marcille, Chilchuck and Izutsumi (everyone)

Chapter 51 - Dumplings 2 Meal: Changeling-Dumplings via Fairy Ring Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 55 - On Floor One 3 Meal: Hamburger Steak with Changeling sauce Cooked by: Senshi and Marcille

Chapter 56 - Bicorn Meal: Crispy Crunchy Mushroom Sandwich Cooked by: Senshi?

The chapters that had no "meal is done" panel were:

32 - Sea Serpent Part 1

37 - Harpy

39 - Shapeshifter 1

52 - Bacon and Eggs

53 - On Floor One 1

54 - On Floor One 2

Again most of them are the multi parts. chapter 47 originally didn't have the title and stats but the panel looked just like a food is done panel so I went to check on the official release and they added it so it's here. Chapter 37 I think its so far the only non multi part chapter where no food is prepped or eaten, in chapter 52 they make and drink tea even tho there's no special panel.

Now for stats.

Senshi made/worked on 17, 18 if you count the Crispy Crunchy Mushroom Sandwich and 19 if you count the small help with the omelet, I'll count the sandwich so 18.

Chilchuck worked on 3 meals

Marcille worked on 3 meals, one of them she was making a potion but it got used in a sauce

Laios made/worked on 4 meals, 2 of them by himself! And one of them with minimal Senshi help.

Izutsumi helped with the dumplings, you go izutsumi.

Out of the 24 meals in these 4 volumes, 22 were food and 1 was medicine and 1 was a goopy brick

Out of the 22 foods Senshi worked on 17 of them (1 of his was the brick), 3 of them were Laios, 1 of them was ready made food and 1 was the golden kingdom citizens

The eastern style meal was mostly made by Maizuru but Senshi helped.

There was a few panels that were small/had dialog in them but I counted cause they had the meal title, dragon ham title appears twice but I only counted as one meal.

Once again, I'm bad with numbers if I got anything wrong feel free to correct me!

[miki-13]

I don't see Ruby getting a new outfit through Ascension but if she does get one would she look more similar to Vincent Valentine since that's where the inspiration for her design came from?

Dude, I have been waiting for Ruby to get a more Vincent Valentine-inspired outfit for YEARS (specifically, the cape wings XD)

[asoftepiloguemylove]

i wanna make you fall in love as hard as my poor parents teenage daughter / she'll be the best you ever had if you let her

Sylvia Plath from a letter to Ann Davdiow-Goodman written 1951; Letters of Sylvia Plath, Volume I: 1940-1956 / Jeanette Winterson excerpt from Lighthousekeeping / Rosamund Hodge excerpt from Cruel Beauty / unknown / image: Angelica Alzona Intimacy (2012) words: The National Daughter of the Soho Riots (2005) / Tathève Simonyan A Prayer / @/FAUNTHEKiD (pinterest) / Victoria Chang Foghorn; Six poems / image: unknown words: Richard Siken excerpt from Crush / Hala Alyan I'm Not Speaking First

i. Sylvia Plath, letter to Ann Davdiow-Goodman

[ "I know I'll always think of you with something like hurt and nostalgia - and a great deal of love." ]

ii. Jeanette Winterson, Lighthousekeeping

[ "This is not a love story, but love is in it. That is, love is just outside it, looking for a way to break in." ]

iii. Rosamund Hodge, Cruel Beauty

[ "You fought and fought to keep all the cruelty locked up in your head, and for what? None of them ever loved you, because none of them ever knew you." ]

iv. unknown

[ "and you've cried once more because recognition feels like forgiveness, which is a burning furnace that can't stand on its own. love is a feast but you've learned to abstain. there is a sickness that follows the shame of giving with love only to be met with slaughter." ]

v. Angelica Alzona, Intimacy / The National, Daughter of the Soho Riots

[ Surrealist painting of a man and a woman kissing as their faces blend together. Red outlines of hands reach up around them. "BREAK MY ARMS / AROUND THE ONE I LOVE" ]

vi. Tatheve Simonyan, A Prayer

[ "Rage, that is love - rotten! / Rage, that is desire - rotten! / Rage! - like a prayer, unanswered, ricocheting from your ceiling and landing right onto your eyes, never quite reaching where it was meant to." ]

vii. FAUNTHEKiD

[ "being in close proximity to you / is being led to the slaughter / if that the lamb is aware is alive is accepting / if that the slaughter is love love love" ]

viii. Victoria Chang, Foghorn

[ "The great mystery / is whether I love you or / I just love mourning. / The absence of a laugh just / gone, and the air that fills it." ]

ix. unknown/Richard Siken, Crush

[ Silhouette of a boy looking downwards. Red streaks from the background spread outwards from the middle. "I'll be your / slaughterhouse, / your killing floor, / your morgue / and final resting" ]

x. Hala Alyan, I'm Not Speaking First

[ "Nothing's Freudian anymore. A cigar's a cigar. I want to love something / I want to love something without having to apologize for it. Please don't tell." ]

[xbuster]

Dragon Quest Series Seven: Warriors of Eden (2001)

[ikroah]

I pushed my soul in a deep dark hole, and then I followed it in, I watched myself crawling out as I was a-crawling in. I got up so tight, I couldn't unwind, I saw so much, I broke my mind… —“Just Dropped In (to See What Condition My Condition Was In),” The First Edition (1968)

It Keeps Right On A-Hurtin’ #28 - Ring-a-Ding-Ding VII

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Read IKROAH on Archive of Our Own

Notes / Original Pencils / Transcript:

Notes

Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to type those words? "End of Volume 2?" We have been on Volume 2 for just over three years. Obviously it's unfair to compare it to the breakneck pace of Volume 1, because... I got burned out (I got better), I got divorced (I got better), and most importantly, I've spent all three of these years overhauling my approach to art, which is to say, I got better. My canvas size doubled because my initial naive approach of "smaller pages means less art, which means faster art" was holding me back: I wanted more art, and the subjects of too many panels had gotten flubbed due to what was basically a pathetically low rendering distance. I revamped my approach to coloring entirely, leaning into a vibrant, saturated, and faux-comic halftone style that I vastly prefer to my more grounded, gradient-driven work beforehand. I changed IKROAH's font (Unmasked!), I changed Agnes's appearance slightly (she's far less gaunt, which was an early design choice I've thrown away, plus I think I'm much better at drawing her consistently now), and so much more. Comics are a time-consuming artform and while a lot of what made this volume take so long was out of my control, and well worth not pushing myself through, the total reinvention of how I actually make comics was the single best thing to come out of Volume 2.

It's a lot of lessons and groundwork that I'm very eager to take into Volume 3, which I have spent every single one of these years viciously impatient for. Now, it's finally here. See you at the cover reveal.

Original Pencils

Something that I have been working a lot harder on with my art lately is inking: actual inking, not merely "outlining" and figuring out the rest by the seat of my pants digitally. I've come to realize that the fewer steps of my production process that I try to do digitally, the more fun it is to make art as a whole, and inking was something that I was very intimidated by for the longest time. What happens if I mess up! It's permanent marker, after all! But after all the practice that I've done, I'm really happy with how bold and confident the shadows are on this issue, and they're perfect for how moody and dramatically lit the whole thing is. You can compare the pencils to the inks to the final products and really see how I planned out the overall composition.

Transcript

INT. LUCKY 38 PRESIDENTIAL SUITE, VERY LATE AT NIGHT. The lights are all off in this luxurious, distinctly pre-war abode. It is almost empty.

RADIO: Welcome back to the program, folks. This is Mr. New Vegas—and I hope I'm not coming on too strong. We've got some news for you, coming right up.

The only real light in the suite comes from the glowing screen of the Securitron VICTOR, standing in front of the private elevator.

RADIO: Tops Hotel owner Benny has been killed by an unidentified assailant. According to his fellow Chairmen, shots were heard in his private suite, and his body was found inside. They are urging all visitors to please keep an eye out for suspicious individuals and behavior on the New Vegas Strip. The new head of the Chairmen, Benny's former right-hand man Swank, consoled mourners: "If I know my pal Benny, he's swinging with the Big Cat Upstairs as we speak. Or he's chasing some angel broad with cans as big as her halo!"

RADIO: In other news—

In a guest bedroom off to the side, ROSE OF SHARON CASSIDY is sound asleep. Her belongings are neatly folded on the dresser, except for the cocktail dress that she was wearing, which has been thrown onto the ground.

RADIO: —refugees at Bitter Springs are giving startling accounts of the legate known as Lanius, who is said to be Caesar's top field commander. One refugee told us the legate took over an underperforming squad of troops by beating its commander to death in full viw of everyone. The legate then ordered a tenth of his own force be killed by the other nine tenths. And you thought your boss was a pain!

RADIO: You know, I think all news, whether it's good or bad, brings us closer together. Don't you?

Directly across from the elevator, across from VICTOR, are the shut doors to the master bedroom.

RADIO: These headlines, brought to you by Vault 21...Vault 21! Everything is better when you experience it...in a vault.

Inside the master bedroom, AGNES SANDS sits on the edge of the bed, wide awake. The RADIO plays from her PIP-BOY, which provides a slight amount of light in the dark room.

RADIO: Gonna play a song for you right now—it's about that special someone, that you can only find once...in a "Blue Moon."

"Blue Moon" begins to play from the radio. AGNES's head remains lowered in rumination.

Suddenly, the radio broadcast cuts out.

SFX: KZZRRRSSHHTTZ

RADIO: Has your life taken a turn?

A NEW VOICE speaks on the radio. It's dreamy, seductive.

RADIO: Do troubles beset you? Has fortune left you behind?

AGNES remains in thought.

But then: she lifts her head.

And she looks over at the radio.

RADIO: If so, then the Sierra Madre Casino,

The PIP-BOY displays: 11.09.81, 4:13. <<Signal Unknown>>

RADIO: in all its glory, invites you

AGNES listens.

RADIO: to begin again.

AGNES is now somewhere else.

EXT. MOJAVE DESERT. At sunrise, AGNES SANDS is perched atop a ridge somewhere in the desert. Her overcoat billows behind her, and her shoulder-mounted flashlight beams straight ahead. She looks manic. In one hand, she clutches her duffel bag, full of every belonging she has. Her other hand is wearing her PIP-BOY, and the radio broadcast continues:

RADIO: Come to a place where wealth, excitement, and intrigue await around every corner. Stroll along the winding streets of our beautiful resort. Make new friends...or rekindle old flames. Let your eyes take in the luxurious expanse of the open desert, under clear starlit skies. Gaze straight on into the sunset from our scenic Villa rooftops. Countless diversions await. Gamble in our casino, take in the theater, or stay in one of our exclusive executive suites that will shelter you...and cater to your every whim.

Below the ridge is a pile-up of wrecked shipping containers. One of them opens up toward the surface like a gaping throat of metal. It leads somewhere, deeper into the earth.

RADIO: So if life's worries have weighed you down—if you need an escape from your troubles—or if you just need an opportunity to begin again—

The source of the broadcast signal is coming from INSIDE.

RADIO: —then join us.

AGNES descends into the container, revealing a makeshift staircase of sheet metal that leads into darkness.

RADIO: Join us, let go, and leave the world behind...

The signal from inside the tunnel is now audible. It overlaps with AGNES's PIP-BOY...

RADIO: Join us, let go, and leave the world behind...

Until she sees it.

RADIO: ...at the Sierra Madre Grand Opening.

A pre-war, art deco type radio, sitting on a metal pedestal. It speaks to her.

RADIO: ...at the Sierra Madre Grand Opening.

AGNES stares at the radio, bewildered.

She barely notices the HULKING FIGURE about to grab her from behind.

RADIO: We'll be waiting.

END OF VOLUME 2

[ceaseless-rambler]

Let me pick the music you can trust me with it. No that's not suspicious at all! Please let me pick it. I promise I'll only play music that will fit the event. Er, what's the event again? Haha just joking I knew it was a very large party. I'm so good at picking party music I swear. You'll let me? Awesome thank you so much you won't regret this.

[Max volume] "And so in the reign of Queen George VII, it came to pass..."

[beetletricks]

Source: https://www.reddit.com/r/fnki/comments/142yooa/me_looking_for_atlasmidgar_story_parallels_be_like/

[julibf]

JON WAS PROMISED TO SANSA

So, one of my favorite theories that I have seen floating sometimes is that Jon Snow is actually The prince that was promised to Sansa. The idea is that Lyanna not only asked Ned Stark to protect Jon, but also, asked him to marry his first born daughter to her son, in order to fulfil an important prophecy and that the breaking of this promised is what led for all this pain and sorrow to fall onto House Stark. This would parallel the pact made by Doran Martell promising his older daughter to Viserys Targaryen, both men made promises to marry their daughters to Targaryen princes, yet both failed to fulfill their promises.

What if Jon and Sansa had been betrothed all their lives since their birth? What if this union is very important for the future of Westeros and the Gods are making everything possible for them to be together?  This would be a big twist in the end of the story, because the reader usually associates Ned Stark with someone who takes oaths very seriously, yet, having the hero of the story breaking an oath and disgracing himself its kind the story that George likes to write. In A GAME OF THRONES there is a lot of hints that Ned actually broke his promise to Lyanna.

********************** He slept and woke and slept again. He did not know which was more painful, the waking or the sleeping. When he slept, he dreamed: dark disturbing dreams of blood and broken promises. When he woke, there was nothing to do but think, and his waking thoughts were worse than nightmares. (A Game of Thrones - Eddard XV) **************************

Ned keeps on dreaming about broken promises…….

*************************** The thought of Jon filled Ned with a sense of shame, and a sorrow too deep for words. If only he could see the boy again, sit and talk with him … pain shot through his broken leg, beneath the filthy grey plaster of his cast. (A Game of Thrones - Eddard XV) *****************************

In his lasts moments Ned is thinking of Jon and the memories of him bring immense shame and sorrow. Remember, not only he never told Jon about his mother, he also allowed the boy to join the Nights Watch without ever explain to him how truly terrible that place was. I am certain now that Ned Stark broke a very serious promise to his sister…

******************************************

The mention of dreams reminded him. "I dreamed about the crow again last night. The one with three eyes. He flew into my bedchamber and told me to come with him, so I did. We went down to the crypts. Father was there, and we talked. He was sad." "And why was that?" Luwin peered through his tube. "It was something to do about Jon, I think." The dream had been deeply disturbing, more so than any of the other crow dreams. "Hodor won't go down into the crypts."(A Game of Thrones - Bran VII) ************************************

Again, what Ned had to say to Jon was so important that he came back from the death just to tell Bran. I believe that Bran will finally remember about this dream in the last volume of the books, “A dream of Spring”. One of my favorite moments in A CLASH OF KINGS, is the red comet that crosses the sky during the entire opening of the story. In Sansa’s first chapter she asks one of the knights of the kingsguard what does he thinks the comet purpose. Several Jonsas writers have made metas over this idea.

**************************** The morning of King Joffrey's name day dawned bright and windy, with the long tail of the great comet visible through the high scuttling clouds. Sansa was watching it from her tower window when Ser Arys Oakheart arrived to escort her down to the tourney grounds. "What do you think it means?" she asked him. "Glory to your betrothed," Ser Arys answered at once. "See how it flames across the sky today on His Grace's name day, as if the gods themselves had raised a banner in his honor. The smallfolk have named it King Joffrey's Comet." Doubtless that was what they told Joffrey; Sansa was not so sure. "I've heard servants calling it the Dragon's Tail." "King Joffrey sits where Aegon the Dragon once sat, in the castle built by his son," Ser Arys said. "He is the dragon's heir—and crimson is the color of House Lannister, another sign. This comet is sent to herald Joffrey's ascent to the throne, I have no doubt. It means that he will triumph over his enemies." (A Clash of Kings - Sansa I)

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We know that Jon is the Dragon Heir, since he is the son of Rhaegar, so what if the comet was meant to him???? There are some other hints too, that looked like foreshadowing in my mind…........

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He grinned. "I will hold you to that promise, my lady. Until that day, may I wear your favor in the tourney?" "You may not. It is promised to...another." She was not sure who as yet, but she knew she would find someone. (The Winds of Winter - Alayne I)

People may think that I am crazy but if you re read the books all over again, paying attention to a small detail, you may start believing this theory too. As I was reading the books again, I started noticing that every single time Sansa’s receives a marriage proposal, the next chapter that follows is a JON SNOW chapter. Isn’t that interesting???? So let me show you. 

Right from the beginning we have King Robert arriving at Winterfell and visiting Lyanna Stark tomb in the crypts, there he offers a marriage alliance between House Baratheon and House Stark, with the marriage of Sansa and his son Joffrey Baratheon. This is the only chapter that Sansa will receive a marriage proposal not directly, in this chapter is Ned Stark that receives the proposal since Sansa is only 11 years old in the beginning of the story and her father is her guardian, after that, since Sansa will lose her parents and protectors, the proposals will happen directly to her.

A GAME OF THRONES CHAPTER 4 AND 5

Chapter 4, Eddard I 

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"Come south with me, and I'll teach you how to laugh again," the king promised. "You helped me win this damnable throne, now help me hold it. We were meant to rule together. If Lyanna had lived, we should have been brothers, bound by blood as well as affection. Well, it is not too late. I have a son. You have a daughter. My Joff and your Sansa shall join our houses, as Lyanna and I might once have done." This offer did surprise him. "Sansa is only eleven." Robert waved an impatient hand. "Old enough for betrothal. The marriage can wait a few years." The king smiled. "Now stand up and say yes, curse you." "Nothing would give me greater pleasure, Your Grace," Ned answered. He hesitated. "These honors are all so unexpected. May I have some time to consider? I need to tell my wife …""Yes, yes, of course, tell Catelyn, sleep on it if you must." The king reached down, clasped Ned by the hand, and pulled him roughly to his feet. "Just don't keep me waiting too long. I am not the most patient of men."…… For a moment Eddard Stark was filled with a terrible sense of foreboding. This was his place, here in the north. He looked at the stone figures all around them, breathed deep in the chill silence of the crypt. He could feel the eyes of the dead. They were all listening, he knew. And winter was coming. (A Game of Thrones, Eddard I)

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What if the dead were watching Ned break his promise made to his sister and are sensing the Doom of House Stark?? This proposal is immediately followed by Jon Snow first chapter in the books. 

Followed by JON I

BTW, in this chapter we have Jon getting completely drunk in the feast. Word in the castle have traveled and everyone knows Sansa has been betrothed to Joffrey. I always assumed that Jon was so upset in the feast, not because he was seating far way from the rest of the family, but because he heard of the news of the betrothal between Sansa and Prince Joffrey. 

********************************** He had sated his curiosity about the visitors when they made their entrance. The procession had passed not a foot from the place he had been given on the bench, and Jon had gotten a good long look at them all…… His half sisters escorted the royal princes. Arya was paired with plump young Tommen, whose white-blond hair was longer than hers. Sansa, two years older, drew the crown prince, Joffrey Baratheon. He was twelve, younger than Jon or Robb, but taller than either, to Jon's vast dismay. Prince Joffrey had his sister's hair and his mother's deep green eyes. A thick tangle of blond curls dripped down past his golden choker and high velvet collar. Sansa looked radiant as she walked beside him, but Jon did not like Joffrey's pouty lips or the bored, disdainful way he looked at Winterfell's Great Hall. ***********************************

Jon is jealous, again, in a first glance we may think that he is jealous because he is a bastard and can not be part of such important ceremony, but what if he is jealous because he can not be sited right next to Sansa??? A few moments later, Benjen Stark comes to talk to Jon and that’s when Jon ask Benjen to go to the wall and take the Black…

A STORM OF SWORDS CHAPTERS 6 AND 7

Now those two chapters are quite interesting, because both are surrounded by SONGS, in Sansa’s chapters, we have the singer singing THE BEAR AND THE MAIDEN FAIR while Sansa is being introduced to the leader of House Tyrell, Lady Olenna also know as the QUEEN OF THORNS, while in Jon’s chapters, we have a singer playing The Dornishman's Wife while Jon is introduced to the leader of the Freefolk, Mance Rayder THE KING BEYOND THE WALL (who just happens to be the singer)  Sansa is taken to meet the Tyrells by Ser Loras, someone she clearly desires, Jon is taken by Ygritte, someone who desires him.  In both chapters Jon and Sansa are asked to tell the truth and their lives are in danger, Sansa feels like if she tells the truth and the information falls into the Lannisters ears she could be punished and killed and Jon knows that if Mance doesn’t believe what he says, his life is at risk. Sansa tells the truth, Jon lies. 

In the end of this chapter Sansa receives a marriage proposal by the Tyrells, while on Jon chapter, Bael the Bard is mentioned in relation to Jon’s sisters. Once again, by the end of the chapter Sansa will receive a marriage proposal followed by a Jon Snow chapter.

The song THE BEAR AND THE MAIDEN FAIR, You may as well wonder where this song comes from, and it seems that Ser Duncan The Tall first heard this song at the Ashford Tourney (yes, that same Tourney that foreshadows the marriage between Sansa and a Targaryen prince)

Sansa I 

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"The old woman turned back to Sansa. "Are you frightened, child? No need for that, we're only women here. Tell me the truth, no harm will come to you." "My father always told the truth." Sansa spoke quietly, but even so, it was hard to get the words out. "Lord Eddard, yes, he had that reputation, but they named him traitor and took his head off even so." The old woman's eyes bore into her, sharp and bright as the points of swords.

"Joffrey," Sansa said. "Joffrey did that. He promised me he would be merciful, and cut my father's head off. He said that was mercy, and he took me up on the walls and made me look at it. The head. He wanted me to weep, but . . ." She stopped abruptly, and covered her mouth. I've said too much, oh gods be good, they'll know, they'll hear, someone will tell on me.

That’s when Lady Olenna calls for a Song to cover up the conversation between them and finally makes their proposal.

Next chapter of the book is JON I

In this chapter Jon is brought before Mance Rayder, since Rattleshirt doesn’t trust him. In the King’s tent, Jon mistakes Styr for Mance Rayder. But it is the gray-haired man playing the lute who is the King-Beyond-the-Wall. Rattleshirt reveals his misgivings about Jon to the king, but Mance wishes to speak with Jon alone.

The tent was hot and smoky. Baskets of burning peat stood in all four corners, filling the air with a dim reddish light. More skins carpeted the ground. Jon felt utterly alone as he stood there in his blacks, awaiting the pleasure of the turncloak who called himself King-beyond-the-Wall. When his eyes had adjusted to the smoky red gloom, he saw six people, none of whom paid him any mind. A dark young man and a pretty blonde woman were sharing a horn of mead. A pregnant woman stood over a brazier cooking a brace of hens, while a grey-haired man in a tattered cloak of black and red sat crosslegged on a pillow, playing a lute and singing: The Dornishman's wife was as fair as the sun, and her kisses were warmer than spring. But the Dornishman's blade was made of black steel, and its kiss was a terrible thing.

If the show is correct, Jon is Dornish, since he was born in the Tower of Joy and if he marries Sansa she would literally be the Dornishman’s wife. I also like how the song compares the woman to the sun, which brings back to Jon thinking of Sansa as radiant.  Jon blade, Longclaw is black since it's made of Valyrian steel and it was with a kiss that Jon killed Daenerys in the end. So this little song its foreshadowing pretty much the end of the story.

While Jon and Mance continue to talk, the King beyond the wall tells Jon that he remembers him from his visits of Winterfell, he tells Jon that he was also present at the Feast for King Robert that happened at the beginning of the novel, that’s when Jon mentions Bael the Bard back to Jon Snow story!!!

" The night your father feasted Robert, I sat in the back of his hall on a bench with the other freeriders, listening to Orland of Oldtown play the high harp and sing of dead kings beneath the sea. I betook of your lord father's meat and mead, had a look at Kingslayer and Imp . . . and made passing note of Lord Eddard's children and the wolf pups that ran at their heels." "Bael the Bard," said Jon, remembering the tale that Ygritte had told him in the Frostfangs, the night he'd almost killed her. "Would that I were. I will not deny that Bael's exploit inspired mine own . . . but I did not steal either of your sisters that I recall. Bael wrote his own songs, and lived them. I only sing the songs that better men have made. More mead?"

NOW LOOK AT THAT!!!!

Now this is the first time in the story, that the idea of one of the Stark sisters be stolen by a freefolk is introduced. Not only George brings back Bael to Jon’s chapter, he starts to associate the story with Jon’s sisters. Based on the end of the tv show, Jon will be the King beyond the Wall, and Sansa will be the last Stark woman in Winterfell.

"He gestured at the board between them, the broken bread and chicken bones. "Here you are the guest, and safe from harm at my hands . . . this night, at least. So tell me truly, Jon Snow. Are you a craven who turned your cloak from fear, or is there another reason that brings you to my tent?" Guest right or no, Jon Snow knew he walked on rotten ice here. One false step and he might plunge through, into water cold enough to stop his heart. Weigh every word before you speak it, he told himself. He took a long draught of mead to buy time for his answer. When he set the horn aside he said, "Tell me why you turned your cloak, and I'll tell you why I turned mine." …….. "And did you see where I was seated, Mance?" He leaned forward. "Did you see where they put the bastard?" Mance Rayder looked at Jon's face for a long moment. "I think we had best find you a new cloak," the king said, holding out his hand.

By the end, just like Sansa, Jon is asked to tell the truth. Mance Rayder ask Jon why he deserted the Nights Watch. Of course, we all know that opposite of Sansa, Jon doesn’t tell the truth, he lies to Mance about being resentful of the Starks. 

A STORM OF SWORDS CHAPTERS 68 AND 69 

SANSA VI

Now we have Sansa arriving at the Vale, scaping from Kings Landing. She arrives at the Vale with the help of Littlefinger. As soon as she is introduced to Lady Lysa she receives a marriage proposal to marry her cousin Lord Robert Arryn. The proposal doesn’t bring much joy to Sansa that laments that marrying for love may never happen to her.

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Lysa waved a hand negligently. "Not for many years. You are too young to be a mother. One day you shall want children, though. Just as you will want to marry." "I . . . I am married, my lady." "Yes, but soon a widow. Be glad the Imp preferred his whores. It would not be fitting for my son to take that dwarf's leavings, but as he never touched you . . . How would you like to marry your cousin, the Lord Robert?" The thought made Sansa weary. All she knew of Robert Arryn was that he was a little boy, and sickly. It is not me she wants her son to marry, it is my claim. No one will ever marry me for love. 

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NEXT CHAPTER????? Once again, JON SNOW!!!

I knew it the moment I saw this line next to jon’s chapter that George was planning this marriage. That’s why I never believe that Jon and Sansa would have a political marriage, this union would be for love. 

 A STORM OF SWORDS CHAPTER 79 AND 80 

JON XII 

We start the chapter with Jon practicing sword fighting with Iron Emmet and he can not stop thinking about King Stannis Baratheon offer to legitimize him and make Jon not only a Stark but also the Lord of Winterfell. During his practice with Emmet he remembers another fighting practice many years ago at Winterfell….

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Every morning they had trained together, since they were big enough to walk; Snow and Stark, spinning and slashing about the wards of Winterfell, shouting and laughing, sometimes crying when there was no one else to see. They were not little boys when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes. "I'm Prince Aemon the Dragonknight," Jon would call out, and Robb would shout back, "Well, I'm Florian the Fool." Or Robb would say, "I'm the Young Dragon," and Jon would reply, "I'm Ser Ryam Redwyne." That morning he called it first. "I'm Lord of Winterfell!" he cried, as he had a hundred times before. Only this time, this time, Robb had answered, "You can't be Lord of Winterfell, you're bastard-born. My lady mother says you can't ever be the Lord of Winterfell." I thought I had forgotten that. Jon could taste blood in his mouth, from the blow he'd taken. (A Storm of Swords - Jon XII) *****************************************

Jon thinks of rebuilding Winterfell, just like Sansa in the next chapter will literally rebuilt the castle in the snow.

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Lord of Winterfell. I could be the Lord of Winterfell. My father's heir….. It was short walk to the bathhouse, where he took a cold plunge to wash the sweat off and soaked in a hot stone tub. The warmth took some of the ache from his muscles and made him think of Winterfell's muddy pools, steaming and bubbling in the godswood. Winterfell, he thought. Theon left it burned and broken, but I could restore it. Surely his father would have wanted that, and Robb as well. They would never have wanted the castle left in ruins.

*************************************************************

A interesting detail is that, the offer to be legitimized by Stannis comes with a demand. Jon needs to marry Val. Stannis wants the union of a Stark with a wildling princess, to unite the Freefolk with the North (but what if in the end we get a Wildling King marrying a Stark Queen?)

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"Good," King Stannis said, "for the surest way to seal a new alliance is with a marriage. I mean to wed my Lord of Winterfell to this wildling princess." Perhaps Jon had ridden with the free folk too long; he could not help but laugh. "Your Grace," he said, "captive or no, if you think you can just give Val to me, I fear you have a deal to learn about wildling women. Whoever weds her had best be prepared to climb in her tower window and carry her off at swordpoint . . ." (A Storm of Swords - Jon XI)

Ygritte wanted me to be a wildling. Stannis wants me to be the Lord of Winterfell. But what do I want? The sun crept down the sky to dip behind the Wall where it curved through the western hills. Jon watched as that towering expanse of ice took on the reds and pinks of sunset. Would I sooner be hanged for a turncloak by Lord Janos, or forswear my vows, marry Val, and become the Lord of Winterfell? It seemed an easy choice when he thought of it in those terms . . . though if Ygritte had still been alive, it might have been even easier. Val was a stranger to him. She was not hard on the eyes, certainly, and she had been sister to Mance Rayder's queen, but still . . . I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister's son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly's boy as well. Sam would never need to tell his lie. We'd find a place for Gilly too, and Sam could come visit her once a year or so. Mance's son and Craster's would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb.

***************************************************

Jon is now thinking as a wildling and realizing that he needs to steal Val if he wants the marriage to be valid. Which is why I have no doubt that he is stealing Sansa in the end of the books, this storyline is foreshadow in his chapters numerous of times. But the marriage with Val doesn’t make Jon very happy, he doesn’t love her and hardly know her. Just like Sansa, Jon would like to marry someone he loves, and not have a marriage just for a political alliance. But the truth is that he does longs for a family, for Winterfell, he dreams to one day be a true Stark. 

************************************************

Red eyes, Jon realized, but not like Melisandre's. He had a weirwood's eyes. Red eyes, red mouth, white fur. Blood and bone, like a heart tree. He belongs to the old gods, this one. And he alone of all the direwolves was white. Six pups they'd found in the late summer snows, him and Robb; five that were grey and black and brown, for the five Starks, and one white, as white as Snow. He had his answer then. **************************************

Finally Ghost comes back to Jon and he has his answer right there. The wolf brings back the memory when they all found the puppies. Jon belongs to the old Gods like his wolf and he cant turn his back to his old golds. I always assumed Bran sent Ghost to help Jon make his decision. 

As he walked toward the armory, Jon chanced to look up and saw Val standing in her tower window. I'm sorry, he thought. I'm not the man to steal you out of there.

So we this chapter Jon Snow was forced to make a decision and turn down not only Winterffell but also the marriage alliance with Val, the wildling princess. He decides he wont be the one stealing her, but he did show a desire for love, family and Winterfell. Next Chapter we are going to have Sansa being “kissed by the Snow” and those kisses are going to rekindle her childhood dreams…. 

SANSA VII

(gif from https://iheartgot.tumblr.com/post/708718314588946432/glorianas-sophie-turner-as-sansa-stark-in-game)

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She had last seen snow the day she'd left Winterfell. That was a lighter fall than this, she remembered. Robb had melting flakes in his hair when he hugged me, and the snowball Arya tried to make kept coming apart in her hands. It hurt to remember how happy she had been that morning. Hullen had helped her mount, and she'd ridden out with the snowflakes swirling around her, off to see the great wide world. I thought my song was beginning that day, but it was almost done….. Drifting snowflakes brushed her face as light as lover's kisses, and melted on her cheeks. …. She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell. The taste of innocence. The taste of dreams. *********************************************

Sigh, I will never get over this little foreshadow. The poetry, the romantism, the idea of dreams. This little paragraph will always be one of my favorites written lines in this entire novel. The idea that a new lover can enchant Sansa and bring back all her childhood dreams after all the pain and sorrow that she went through. And again, the dream involves Winterfell….

When Sansa opened her eyes again, she was on her knees. She did not remember falling. It seemed to her that the sky was a lighter shade of grey. Dawn, she thought. Another day. Another new day. It was the old days she hungered for. Prayed for. But who could she pray to? The garden had been meant for a godswood once, she knew, but the soil was too thin and stony for a weirwood to take root. A godswood without gods, as empty as me.

And then  she goes to work, once she starts playing with the snow she wonders what she would like to build…

************************************* The snow fell and the castle rose. Two walls ankle-high, the inner taller than the outer. Towers and turrets, keeps and stairs, a round kitchen, a square armory, the stables along the inside of the west wall. It was only a castle when she began, but before very long Sansa knew it was Winterfell. She found twigs and fallen branches beneath the snow and broke off the ends to make the trees for the godswood. *****************************************

Again, in the past chapter we had Jon dreaming on rebuilding Winterfell, having a family, marrying for love. In the follow chapter we have Sansa literally rebulding Winterfell with the help of “Snow”. She longs for her old days, the days of her childhood. This for me was always one of the strongest foreshadows of their romance and future. 

Then, we also have some interesting scenes that the show drop on us, that also are pointing towards a promise… first we have that scene on season 3 Episode 2 (Dark Winds, Dark Words) where Catelyn Stark tells Talyssa about a broken promise that she made involving Jon Snow and how she believes breaking this promise brought all this pain and sorrow to House Stark.

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Catelyn Stark: Many years before that, one of the boys came down with the pox. Maester Luwin said if he made it through the night, he'd liνe. But it would be a νery long night. So l sat with him all through the darkness. Listened to his ragged little breaths. His coughing, his whimpering. Talissa: Which boy? Catelyn Stark: Jon Snow. When my husband brought that baby home from the war, l couldn't bear to look at him. l didn't want to see those brown stranger's eyes staring up at me. So l prayed to the Gods, take him away. Make him die He got the pox. And l knew l was the worst woman who eνer liνed. A murderer. l'd condemned this poor, nnocent child to a horrible death all because l was jealous of his mother. A woman he didn't eνen know. So l prayed to all seνen Gods, let the boy liνe. Let him liνe and l'll loνe him. l'll be a mother to him. l'll beg my husband to giνe him a true name, to call him Stark and be done with it, to make him one of us. Talissa: And he liνed?  Catelyn Stark: And he lived…..And l couldn't keep my promise. And everything that's happened since then, all this horror that's come to my family, it's all because l couldn't love a motherless child.

A BROKEN PROMISE LEADING TO THE FALL OF HOUSE STARK............

Later, in season 6 Episode 10 (The Winds of Winter) we have Jon and Sansa finally taking back the North and Winterfell together. Sansa tells Jon that she sees him as a Stark and Jon tells Sansa they need to start trusting each other, then he kisses her and remind Sansa of a promise made by Ned Stark.. (Interesting fact ton notice that after receiving this kiss from Jon, Sansa never again allows Littlefinger to kiss her). 

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Jon Snow: I'm having the lord's chamber prepared for you. Sansa Stark: Mother and Father's room? You should take it. Jon Snow: I'm not a Stark. Sansa Stark: You are to me. Jon Snow: You're the Lady of Winterfell. You deserve it. We're standing here because of you. The battle was lost until the Knights of the Vale rode in. They came because of you. You told me Lord Baelish sold you to the Boltons. Sansa Stark: He did. Jon Snow: And you trust him? Sansa Stark: Only a fool would trust Littlefinger. I should have told you about him, about the Knights of the Vale. I'm sorry. Jon Snow: We need to trust each other. We can't fight a war amongst ourselves. We have so many enemies now. Sansa Stark: Jon. A raven came from the Citadel. A white raven. Winter is here. Jon Snow: (Smiling) Well, Father always promised, didn't he? ************************************

I really wished George had not separated Feast and Dance because we know Sansa receives another marriage proposal In Feast, to marry Harrold Hardying, and I am pretty sure if the books had been released a 1, we would have another Jon Snow chapter following that Alayne chapter, but alas, it didn’t happen. So, that’s my take, I am always paying attention to the change of chapters in the books because I believe that this is how George foreshadows a lot of the events in this book series. 

So thats it, I can not wait for THE WINDS OF WINTER..........

[do-you-know-this-adhd-character]

Do you know this (noncanon) ADHD character?

Evidence is below the cut!

Submitter links this post which is very compelling, as well as listing the following things:

- stims/fidgets by doing repeated squats; whenever he’s stressed or bored he does squats

- Has difficulty controlling his voice volume and with being too loud; for example, he was on a mission (he’s essentially a super soldier) that required stealth and talked too loud, alerting the enemy

- he will consistently forget important things in excitement; his sword and his materia (which lets him do magic) are some items he’s forgotten

- He acts very hyper—constantly moving, talking fast, etc

- He will often interrupt people

- On the mission that opens the game, he’s told by his mentor some information then a few minutes later seems to forget it

- he is often reminded by his mentor to focus

- He hates sitting still and waiting (he broke cover on a mission to pace)

- impulsively jumps to conclusions