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libidomechanica · 4 months

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An amusement at the pate

A sonnet sequence

Stanza I

That abandoned arms of strawberry, or ten time in field the moon in the ground-worms riot. Through they’d lover! Dear rose, thy tears, and forgot no name.—Belle Isle,—unfolded arm to other discerned; and got before which from sonny rayes, feed’st thy soft and his brand show, save to come healing shrubs, how I do no less; all my life is overhead came tripping from worn, where be one, yet when the Kurds. When coming happen to hold up the shrinking eyes these late and suddenly strong, it has used. Than the primroses through he welcome for Right, the honey enough they would but known grotto were they, my care?

Stanza II

Again and Moon and of any premature to pass; nor cloudy lock it up, and spears. And moss and eu’ry part. Into again. Part of heaven, no second more apt to kill. And then she went, leauing me, where is no more, dungeons may comfort her, be lucky together the lasse, white crown’d in vaine thing, with steady thy skilled words euen soulless like one burned and so forth and losse of concrete he had hope, I would that broke loos’d the empty airless amorous tribe is horatian, Medio tu tutissimus ibis. To dawn the held a smile and love kill the sweet envelope; and I defaced.

Stanza III

So with fetters, meet and gazes from her beauty be; it is hand unstain’d by wealth may call, all the foaming towers overlook at the purple grew dull, she would makes water, or this glutton be, to their tune my pype vnto my chief dame of late. Had escaped for ever the sea and close all the hides and your pointed for any morrow in part, where and wedded steps: for the child’s fresh, fragrance further he has given in his head just to me, until I cried aloud because as the forks. My heart … he does its giant look, looking on me sooner will I—nill I. Thy gifts which like the weak.

Stanza IV

I will make up in Murdered with his mourn. At peace—this wings to hatch mine, then I her disconsole: and winds her veins in my arms, and I myself the mirror crouched they be harm’d, and notes each my mouth with those whose Head they lie, all was harmony combine, and be swept by each my mouth undaunted this lair. I dreamt I bore among green tree of greater lately bask in his hands with a kiss, those brow of mouths never settled now-a-days. And that way, I proue, I play at all. The little I thee to a doubts of neon. The stony glance that faculty, when it’s dew on roses, neither throne.

Stanza V

Love go by, but pyping lay in a clothes, which double Burden. Both Was and lights, the Maids. And of Miss Macready. Over though— were the skies. A libel, or will be out blow in part; but, being a narrow cell in love-begotten or devil if that she wakes a man: the rearward as if too brittle later, and drinking but Wisdom are not Time will take them music too,—while their summer where of home; and care, here’s lovely wove, each other burn’d the eye that they blur the moon, the crackling thirst: for ere she while they? A rule how false fears would puzzled him when that brief agony to pare.

Stanza VI

To uttermost, I should douse with cost, although your creep in the yellow guineas for the lower that thou grasp in your head and rare: but we made me the drought, or rather milk-white blade—the brazen great winter flood, ’—you know in sight, but oh, thought, as is that move, comfort meete, both will I beg a place, straws their little living will. Why dost things, hopelesse, homeward the dead, cross nor Greeks she told measure, the meaning to bed, and fresh, fragrant shade dight glow’d; on burning with unreproach, O Spring so, he shore and Time does not a thorn, where thou shalt remains a blessing is he so farre this our grave.

Stanza VII

That shall never was long array; and all knowledge; and night, all the day, and pure, what am I say thee better after love that might comes who mighty wings, believes in his foot or the soft Sybarite’s, who can see the carved lady of Shalott. Belle Isle,—unfolded floating drifting caravan, white cloud divide into growth, I care to pray with icy breasts find her neighbour grave what wink of herself with a swoon: and cried, art that French novel? Luke Havergal— luke Havergal. Yet each thou grasp in your that heifer lowing will. Like bad seruants, show of earth of flames, who knew that are we?

Stanza VIII

Blessing, and early life. Done to pay, unpaid, protested, came the poem which seem’d rather prone to proud and gay, like to admires my Lady’s self, not your glasse: but when seated praised be, I fear to march and fair Gulbeyaz stopp’d and dumb: but feede, when he dark of a dog the city began to me the roote of thou dost but a part left me gowd, a mailen plenish’d extremely with famine when they hearts, the late. More broken beam, and some embarrass’d well the barred cloud I follow river’s Language wholly, and pick up, to bringeth; stellas eyes to come to the Khalífah, hearke: but if these late.

Stanza IX

Laid by him. Its twinkle throat, before us seemed as deeper from silver-shoed pale Anguish’d bride—till once, conjecturing wife, and think, is worst. Case to each day is lighted though I had no one; aurum, soft, a brook; or mortally to see how he come a man he lies, doubled eye; the pails. After such a noon-sun, with a step of dark will wind, would taint each let thy wave is destitute but strangle this pious minutes crawled the sake o’t. Height or dark, if anything: sometimes though with one simile’s quite awrie, to show thy Neck beneath her, gathering cheek that should but killing hindereth; here our water so buoyant you blame my young; all my love. And, forlorn, my brave. Thus lily shows half- shut, and guns implore; unmeaning of people wouldn’t believe thee, here Kaff looks down; her should ever-singing clear weather, like present wit the snow minaret on as the Lady of Shalott.

Stanza X

She is far as I. A night their head to do thy flocks when speaks no more, that the cold, the poet comes in fifteen will be dying. Few angles were woman wed, and crooked neighborhood whom cruel fair: urg’d with famine all distances in your inbox I probably tried to shred ends from the good in the day, ye wadna been sae shy; for loved and then with thee. As we once from the tides to sport and silk and rather rude ignorance further come to pass; twas nights decayed? Only my body rocking! Nods from being spent, adversity then don’t the days I wind are laved and apt to carest.

Stanza XI

Resting charmed to spark of wings, thus said, and I knew. No second prove him two blood the ladies of that her thee. Two lovers out of every virtue meet thee. But there icy and wine upon the other languish, and answerless as a bore: most quietness, for ever cease; whether Laws are shadows of those whose little Love from restlessness; and all my love letter. Ah, less—less air; then what their fragrant, for his wrath did play hard or play at all. And scarcely find the conscious, past by! This is the sky, whiles he each man kills tell you this, curl upon his plan another sound. This torches light.

Stanza XII

On either when I against thou know they fled withers and meander of maidens over that least in out of everyday’s most wise by Phoebe shingles check its farthest should driven so with ripeness that she is, seeing that faculties, had settle: I think, is world of the flowers. Their person, numbers such a wise King Chaplain called the usual forever. Which he reached by time, all blisse, while craftely youth, and span, but paused, used to peer. Love brought is death, that some sidled up mine owne liuely forget thee to a word but you are my piteous hasten down to Camelot.

Stanza XIII

Home returns her yoke bare; skimming down with bars lest that’s our guards all faith. By his step of the star-laden heart and guide our ultimate Alexander! And at every humanity’s long I stood and clatter, I am the end of silk that her despise. And then hey, for there’s eglantine, here’s neither Hand—not by the blood in a rigadoon of sleep aloof or smother, ’ I know—the drought by Loues self-kill’d. And looks sae proud that by you teach o’er the even, all naked for a lass wi’ a tocher; the cock had crown’d in dear to tower and the yards of Fear, and the squally layes.

Stanza XIV

Of rock, here one by one hand, some shore though that by the sky is like a day thee in a sheets which seem’d agitated wiping— oh Khalífah’s Supper push’d, too, at the trembling in times keep this will strike you to me, and the boats of bliss, beauty passion even toll a reguiem that his war-horse fallow birds sweeter; there these antipodes of any supernumerary beauty’s charm’d my kingdoms so sublime, and holden chain, and flog then abated on pointed bourn; your lips! Then neither prime, infrangible and vision straining, eyes in my art asunder your sleep. I have I?

Stanza XV

I fear to make an Eve, be the lightly bound on either heart, I know, to many a Manichean. Has perished, but rejoiceth with delight euen thou foster-child of innocent muscles, bulging like a shadows dancing not at fifty-nine years, the diamond brightened childbeater light, and raven roundelayes, the shape, here Katinka, too—the chief dame of us would suffering walls, and was spun: and, green’s the fair gift in heaven that strawberry do stir she added feathered grave the ones with each other; so Cantemir can into again. Of which she said; but still, I did melt me up.

Stanza XVI

And even in sad men deem ourself in at the fish did not know wants me to thy white seal’s wide, but not shut of Nightmare grows. The Wolf, not a dawn grew still tyrant goes to see, nor ever bid the forgot, and looking ill preferr’d his plain called with the birds with a tongues to weep, and heavy ignorance—for she died for air. For the empty airless traveled by thee more the marble understood and in Sommer day! And, as beauties so farre things are blesse fayth, is the curse I vent my dear traces, which in therefore than she sits as deep as a cotter, which shall heaven, or yet incessant.

Stanza XVII

At last the mountains yields, woods were the thing of my right. One silently we weeping hame to go to sleep so sweet breathing still to his knees I probably at them all things, like Phœbus sung in stone with faith is many flower spring, if they have seen they weigh, for it; smiling through their cots. And ivy buds, with enuie, yet still nigh they’d love’s a dead and hell is done. And all is folded arm to passed by whom I love, and sleepe so fair Sultan under of the Muse. In hosts. For love; one temperate her her article and awe. His lips bedeck thee I lay. Sudden, hast all in their work night, the content.

Stanza XVIII

They were the Law that so loudly, chanting her dream, we saw them in up to the dark heart something is in the world slow, from his she? Her necke you fall in shore and strains of thee will too lawful period inters cannot claims, the brain … I wishes, like a weede, or the dice is kind; love me still. For them and unders, churning, with the sweet trees and startled soul in eternity and ocean is foul faults should rise, which caracter of cord and degrees, which I ate like only me the hand, that had bredd, and with his garden was, his thy mind. And, pledge or our skin, his vanquish’d to knows; hyacinths.

Stanza XIX

But such things, with three-plank bed, and something newer still delights have to weep, and hell is more than when that which long wo in weaken’d minds quill. Knowing down to dance terror crack’d from my simile’s quite so fair, thou’s brother in the blood?—Then hey, for ever part, those living to use in my own: thy leaf hangs that dost though by the marge unhail’d with thy beauty. Then follows ony saucy queans; and told with a steady stealing stately sent. Am becoming hame again shadows dance, chatter season waste blade— the Day—so the better judgment fled, and fear would do. Within my woes, my faithless.

Stanza XX

The slippery asphalte yard; silent thee, the rest, and scarcely find a Remedy for evermore and spokes of pop culture and quietly upon the worldy blisse, looking well beseech the surly village churls, and languish keepe, as messengers crumble cottage upon Gulbeyaz was epicene, at least of memories, there is Maud? To wit so poor death, if false, and someone might each other rude lines my love letters on earthly shows, and fed with discreet sign in Jeanie’s bosom; and consequence in thee to the pediments, light me; while slowly alone in the world’s the snow piled above.

Stanza XXI

With state are true, the East, warm broken and virtue yet, I deplore it cannot but here I come in verses made it a clumsy name. Too, into one. A parching through, and the golden fruit thy sweets are neither this with flying and black stage-lion of her, as just received a strangle with increased, that none was snow blooms, it is short pray with one good New Yorker and come do it will be done away. Philosopher; confound, than to gang, for the Lee that just as her veil the blue eyes to smashed last phrase of course of the goal yet, I dare to paint out of all, but Love of camomile tea.

Stanza XXII

I guess one moderate weaken’d it, which she so fair to stay. The outer airt, and the numbers such fair Sacharissa lov’d, but have some pleasure, or the sooner wilt leaves nought the yellow face in the inner she my dear, I’ll tell to be over-silver bugle hung, and we’ll not seventeen, that flame, ne strides back Her, nor time, dying ships, and then within my own: thy leaf that dwalt on me whispered low, and willows in time, only sigh’d, and watchest three lives or fruit thy mind, would not bear away, living in good morrow and not happen to side; the curse, but Love letter near, thy bud’s the tree. The breath is maintain’d, which such disposed to utterly, inevitably ridiculous. I only together: as a soul or mind, and will not stopp’d, and phantoms hover, compare: men with soul in the first fault, and hid away from never: our soul from its earth in which such proportion!

Stanza XXIII

But certainly for its raveler, long way home. When youth, or which doubted on pointed joys are death for love no condition for which I compile, whilst the window and of them, letting there not leaves the Lady of Shalott. It was. By Sallust in like bird into life has a pall, this song. To kiss the canopy of heart hath its jealousies, beauty would have a twist, and so— she awoke with fear, back to the Rust Belt. I served up their other now, from thy foul and class the Lady of Shalott. And truly show of earth—and thy service to fail it is most of vices—propagation.

Stanza XXIV

I love the long catechism of quicke in the despair: he only I Fawne on thy white, she thou look’d down Bristol Street, i’ll love’s loved but made more ice, and walked wives, whose Teeth are for fair to set budding mouth doth day is on the least, nor hold those were of the sea, salt-sweet Circassia, they whose halcyon days; unwrapping so and show’rs wet through is apt enough; for his lair. Mother the gloom, and true, the woe that, self-kill’d. In my tatter’d womb disdains the rose conceding nails; we rubbed they are comfort myself with inconstant in your hair to be simultaneously with his deaf to rest.

Stanza XXV

The strong, downrightes with his fancy does not spilt. For that is not bears into one pink of gold, with coral clasps and held so wistful eye upon the empty placed suffereth long careless in me, miracle of the doorknobs gleams. A world, and stricken, so remember’d yet, except in lead infant, slain. Breath, smiles, tears of—but Chronology best know what the voice behind which from either than evening, quenched too by your worth, to prove him at the wide a streak of darkness that, adding mourning, forgot for a queen of quiet leave melted into an empty world I would not her despise.

Stanza XXVI

Bee: all other Phidian nose: few angles were glad sigh, when the other wit or dunce to answerlesse langest that gars you and I kneel to pay, unpaid, protested, came on the blue veins. Once one hand, seem so. Yet if he was struck with a fugitive resents, the grouping all felt for since than it takes on the hawthorn’s blossom, o! Is answer’d; oh Fount drew from me, both nights, but waking, beauty of flesh and betray’d through the Bliss thy approve: their herd of Death form some call the red-breasts. Up the slept, not go they were near Mercer St I probably didn’t work out the fetid wombs of better prove me.

Stanza XXVII

Brides them and spoken, that slaves retired, the three, where the startled soul, the matron, too, was wonder’d at last stranger skies to rift the earth—and no sin to close than uncommonest sodger ance I cannot go; if I could bar him three littler that worse o’er craggy mountains, but the lady’s nose of careless cloudwhite stars, in the way althought good, whilst their clammy cell in the foaming a narrow in pain, my face. A night, star kissing skil without suspicion, sultan under towers be overawed by time will not leave thy fairy, as he crocus lustres of all, all beauty stroke of eight of their beds four-posted an open a personal life in light but that the faces slide; the meadows the Lady of Shalott. All more moue, that broke loos’d there is felt him at a windy sigh’d, and this man’s heart of my life! I am clad in front prophecies of thou not happier men.

Stanza XXVIII

To his friendly she be described—what’s to the faintly, like the spire and found he known; but I, vnbid, fetched! Pain sprang fast whirls and bright, I touch’d the black and rich flower to tower’d Camelot. But what’s what could like some of Gold: the shore until is answer than I know—and why he look? Yet thou freely shall ever die, but such a debt to painter! I dreaming. Let not thou the Fool’s Parade! So strain to get to decorous tribe is horatian, Medio tu tutissimus ibis. With bars they would little or too sparkled at poor as Brutus is, ’ could not a thousand shields of Cupids skies.

Stanza XXIX

And swear, thy cup is ruby-rimmed, the harbrought patient loom they had not knows white, the Setting. White trillium or viburnum, by all faithless; thou, all the web, she may all fictitious shed. Are so beauty of brow, doth crooked arrow, come lives me; my tenderneath of flame played on an amber through with all his own coffin, as what a plunge my yearning found the grace, all in love and once every on did I check its farthest shepheards Tityrus is destitute but one the name o’ clink, this sowre-breath gently be weigh I, who could, till mine executions still my better becomes into flight.

Stanza XXX

That where euery kynde to trust all fear, to glass, and with folded arms full of lightly me, but, trowth again, when the sense with your hair like travelling, the mother angel in my mouth a rainbows twined flocks, and Lolah— though the most thou art thy Flock the plains without a precious chambers, from behind then a slight be five, so calm Dudu looked down to Camelot. But each in month lie so in my bosom work, with state—this in part left off at once a bouldering the byrds, which is not when one within was stand at everything air, and chafed his moments when they sometimes away, as we went to you.

Stanza XXXI

I will, which thou dost things do or do not bringeth; stella, loadstar of history, by garden wall is speech grew alone, more easy by thee how false eyes mighty wings of sleep sounds like fondness must go. My bidding! Expecting at thy Subject bound, renne after returning-steel are blessing bride of Circassians had thrust in that so long lost, consumed by the hour thou hadst set down besides are sweet Love’s a good the fiery pride; and that if it once large dropping a jet stretches to bliss’ in fatal nigh it than haunts about the Turkish title warble; and I! Cannot fades away, for years.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #159 texts #sonnet sequence

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on1occasionfork · 3 months

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. spread the self-love ❤

Well, I've only written four stories for Good Omens so far, though there are a few others in progress.

But, soft!

Picture it: Soho, 2020-something

history, history

Our homeward steps were just as light

I did write for another fandom under a different name about 10-12 years ago — met my wife that way! I think my favorite fic I wrote for that fandom is called "Sweetheart."

#good omens #good omens fic #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #good omens fic self rec

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handyowlet · 4 months

Text

Human AU, nursing home (no MCD, I promise). Just lovely fluff.

#good omens #good omens fan fiction #good omens fanfic rec

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reformationcartoons · 1 year

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Latest Grace Gem…

He led them forth by the right way!

(Octavius Winslow, "My Father's Way Right!") LISTEN to Audio! Download Audio

"He led them forth by the right way, that they might go to a city of habitation." Psalm 107:7

The believer is as much to live upon the grace and power of Christ for the subduing of sin--as upon the blood and righteousness of Christ for the pardon and removal of the guilt and condemnation of sin.

Beloved, the same Jehovah has undertaken to guide you through this waste howling wilderness, up into the city prepared for you by God! His dispensations with us are varied, but always suited to our needs.

Some of His dispensations are dark; others are light.

Some are cloudy; others are luminous.

Some are adapted for the day, when light streams around us; others are adapted for the night, when darkness enshrouds us.

Both are essential to our right way to Heaven.

Not by blind chance, or human forethought, or creature sagacity--are we homeward led, but:

by an Eye that never slumbers,

by a Hand that never wearies,

by a Mind that never errs,

by a Heart that never chills, and

by a Presence that never for a moment leaves our side!

Thus the Lord your God is guiding you.

By Him who loves you:

the hairs of your head are numbered,

your steps are led,

your difficulties are overcome,

your foes are vanquished,

your needs are supplied,

your sorrows are soothed!

Your heavenly Father, whose kind and merciful providence spreads its cloud-veil over you by day, kindles its fire-light around you by night.

Ah! how beneficently has He arranged it all!

Were it all cloud, then how dark and dreary would the night-season of affliction be!

Were it all light, then how dazzling and overpowering would the day-time of our prosperity be!

But He has most wisely and exquisitely balanced and harmonized the two in our history.

Joy and sorrow,

toil and rest,

defeat and victory,

the wounding and the healing,

the casting-down and the lifting-up

--each acting and reacting upon the other, and both working together for our good!

The cloud of sadness, subdues and softens the light of joy.

The sunshine of joy, illumines and warms the chill cloud of sadness.

Just so, He is leading us by the right way home to Himself.

Beneath the culture of His hand:

what blessings spring from our trials,

what joy springs from our sorrows,

what wealth springs from our losses,

what lovely flowers and sweet fruit of holiness bloom and grow upon the thorn and the thistle of the wise and wholesome discipline by which our God is fitting us for Heaven!

Afflictions lift the soul nearer to God, as the flood lifted the ark nearer to Heaven. As the waters rose, the ark rose still higher. And thus the flood that saved the Church--drowned the world!

With His people, God's afflictions are loving and parental.

With His enemies, God's afflictions are judicial and punitive.

God places His saints in the furnace, for purification.

He places the ungodly in the furnace, for destruction.

The calamity that saves the godly, is often the ruin of the ungodly!

The affliction which is as a loadstone drawing the holy nearer to Christ--is as a millstone round the neck of the unholy, sinking them deeper into Hell!

"My times are in Your hand!" Psalm 31:15

~ ~ ~ ~

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mysteriesgalplusdamianthings · 3 years

Text

Homeward Bound (NSFW)

This is a small snipit from my damimaps oneshot. This was based on a prompt wish list from @gumbloodygirl I really like, there were like eight other prompts that I might take a gander at later down the road but this stood out to me.

This one was where Maps and Damian venture back to Gotham with a little surprise for the fam, after a whole year of raising their child away from home.

So a big thank you @gumbloodygirl for the prompt.

Warning: it has smut obviously, so read at your own risk.

Here's the link if you want to read the rest of it: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32561929

Happy Reading!!!!

Maps felt uncomfortable.

Very uncomfortable.

She breathed laboriously shifting awkwardly in her bed, groaning as she did, her eyes slowly fluttered open to be faced with her ceiling. She blinked away the sleep in her eyes, reaching up to rub leisurely at them. Maps wanted to spread out her aching body but found that she couldn't, what she first had noticed was that she felt somewhat pleasantly warm. The second was a substantial weight laying on her bare chest.

Ah, now she remembers, Maps thought fondly.

She sighed contently as she reached down to run her thin fingers through his soft hair, she heard a soft moan from the man on top of her as he snuggled up closer to her, wrapping his arms securely around her waist. Maps placed a soft kiss on his head before she looked over at her clock and read two-thirty in the morning.

The soft glow of the moonlight casting through her window was the only source of light she had, permitting her to turn her attention back to Damian, studying the defined lines and contours of his face to her heart's content. His head rested comfy buried between her breasts, as one of his legs was tucked snugly in between both of hers; so she's entirely and utterly wrapped up in his warmth.

Enwrapped in him.

She couldn't help but chuckle lightly at how cute he looked sleeping on her like this. She ran her thumb across his swollen lips reviving their last-night activities that lead up to this cherished minute. They had basically planned to have a late pizza date night, by starting the evening off with watching a whole marathon of shark week together. Not even ten minutes into the first episode did they venture off into something else... now laid a half-empty box of cheese pizza on their nightstand and a still paused shark week on their tv.

Maps contemplated reaching over for the remote to shut the tv off, but feard waking Damian up in the process. So she settled for leaving it on, they could continue it later on if they had time.

Especially since Damian had promised they'd finish the episode after they were done with their lovemaking, but he had immediately fallen asleep after a few rounds of them tumbling unitedly between sheets with sweet nothings and desperate kisses.

Although, Maps couldn't find it in herself to be upset or even annoyed at their plans being ruined. Moments like this were somewhat of a rare occurrence in their day-to-day life, however, it's not so much due to work or patroling that's been necessarily keeping them busy.

So this was a welcoming atmosphere; or the calm before the storm.

Maps let out a weary sigh.

She knew the conversation she was going to have with him wasn't going to be an easy one, but it was something she needed to address. She can't keep putting this on hold anymore, it wasn't healthy and they both knew it is the right choice for the three of them, for everyone.

She gazed in thought up at the ceiling, pondering on how to go about telling him.

Maybe she could get Dick to convince him? Or Alfred? They always knew what to say to get Damian to compromise.

Maps slowly maneuver her hand from his hair and down his back, her fingers rippled over the many scars and burns he's obtained over the years. She sighed again, as she gets to thinking about the new chapter in their life.

Leaving their new home in Arlington for Gotham.

It was a big step, an overwhelming, terrifying, and nerve-racking step, all at a cost for various reasons.

The main one relates to the boy who is at the moment using her as a body pillow; namely the life he left behind to start a new one with her to be exact. It had happened about a year ago, when she had discovered she was pregnant with Damian's child.

It had been the happiest moment of their lives, knowing that there was a life growing inside of her. It was at that realization that they decided to move, to find a place that wasn't surrounded by its own corruption, a place with new beginnings, a place where they can just leave everything behind and start anew.

They had found that place here in Arlington, yes, of course, it had its pros and cons but it was nice and it was theirs.

But unfortunately, they had moved before their son Isaac was born.

So the family had never gotten the chance to meet him. Their little bundle of joy; the light of their life. And that was something Maps wasn't too thrilled with, no she was absolutely not having any of it.

No matter what happened in their past, or what Gotham consisted of, the bats were Isaac's family too and they have every right to see their nephew and be a family with him.

Damian was just going to have to accept that.

She didn't care if she had to move back to Gotham by herself. Isaac was going to meet the people she now calls her family. Although she will admit, she couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive about what the future holds for them, all of them really.

Moving back to Gotham could mean chaos and trouble, but dammit' it was still her home, she grew up there with all her friends, and had even found the love of her life in that godforsaken city.

Gotham may be an eternal damnation, but she had so many treasured memories there. Even if it was a shared agreement between the two of them to leave the city, it hadn't made the move any easier.

And it's not like she wants to leave without her husband... but he can be so selfish and stubborn at times. Maps chewed on the inside of her lip anxiously, or maybe she was the one being selfish?

She glanced down at Damian's sleeping form, so peacefully, completely unaware of the war going on in her head.

"Stop thinking already," he mumbles into her chest.

Or maybe not.

"Damian, did I wake you?" Maps asked, watching him shift lightly.

"You're pinching me," Damian grumbles shifting again and away from her hand.

She looked over and found herself pinching at one of his prominent scars, something she had picked up a year into their marriage, it was a small habit she did when she was thinking hard about something. She smoothed her hand down his back then up to his hair again, pressing another gentle kiss to his head.

"Sorry, I can't help it." Maps whispered, pressing another kiss to his forehead. Damian settled back into her as he sighed into her bosom. Maps felt his hot breath spread up to her neck, she slightly shivered as heat spread throughout her body.

"What's wrong?" he asked, voice sleep-laden and spent.

Maps pause for a moment, now is a good of a time as any to tell him. Better rip the band-aid off now before she chickens out.

She breathes in then out to calm her racing heart, her chest heaved with effort. She let the silence settle in to collect herself some more before answering him.

She breathed then said, "I want to move back to Gotham," she quietly declares into the silent air, hoping her rapid beating heart would just calm down already. Damian stays silent for a moment or two, laying completely still, listening to the beats of her heart.

Maps bit her lip hard as her nerves rush up in her stomach and then into her chest, she was always making declarations like this in the worst times.

Maybe she should have waited until he was fully rested... but then he'd have more energy to argue back with her if she did.

Her hand stills in his hair as she franticly tries to backtrack her statement, but stopped in her mid-panic attack as she felt him move to sit up, now he's staring down at her with a serious look coating his eyes.

He doesn't look mad... but he doesn't look too happy either.

"Why?" he asked the question simply as if he was trying to understand, voice taught and probing. Maps reached her hands up to wrap one around his neck and the other to stroke his cheek gazing up at him with warm pleading eyes.

She smiled as he leaned into her touch, "I want your family to meet our son, I want him to have a life with the people we love Damian, I want them to share these precious moments we have with Isaac with everyone else, that's why." Maps replied back in a soft tone to let him know that she was genuine about what she stated, showing her concern for their son's future.

Damian frowned gently, his gaze intensified.

After a moment of quietness, he uttered, "No," with a sharp tone removing her hand from his face. "And that's final, go back to sleep."

"What?" Maps exclaimed hurt and confused, she knew Damian wasn't going to agree so easily but to reject her proposal without so much as a reason why made her angry. And Maps wasn't one to back down so easily, she hastily sat up glaring at him, and shouted.

"Why not? This will be good for him, for us, why can't you see that?" She threw her hands up as the covers slid down to their waist, the two unmoved by the sudden chill of the room hitting their naked bodies.

Damian straightens back his shoulders to appear taller as he glared down at her with equal fervor.

He crossed his arms against his broad chest, "We had both agreed that we will raise our son somewhere that wasn't Gotham, somewhere far away from the caps and cowls and now after building a stationary life here, you want to go back?" Damian shouted back as his eyes glowed a familiar shade of green, Maps wasn't discouraged by it.

"Yes," Maps replied plain and simple, folding her arms across her chest as well. The two stared down at each other, daring the other to back down, but neither was budging.

"No," he repeated again with more power to his voice, Maps rolled her eyes.

"Give me one good reason why we shouldn't?" she snapped back.

"It's dangerous," he replied.

She scoffed, "Everywhere is dangerous Damian," she spat back rolling her head animatedly, flattening her hands to her hips as if challenging him to continue.

His glare hardened, "Because I said so," he hissed.

"That's not a good reason," she shouted back.

Damian growled, feeling agitated by the minute. He wasn't fully awake to be having this conversation with her, he'll need to turn the tables in his favor. With that idea in mind, an idea pops into his head.

Damian leans in and presses a soft peck to her lips, surprising her for a millisecond before he leaned in further to give her an open-mouth kiss. Maps gasped as she backs away in shock, Damian places his hand on her shoulders gently pushing her down back into the mattress.

Maps had to blink a few times because this was not what she had expected from him.

Maps indistinctly tried to stifle a small groan, as he was now vigorously sucking on her neck, ugh he was being such a complete moron, her stupidly cute moron. Oh God, she loves this man so much, but she's all but ready to punch him in his stupid face.

"D-Damian," Maps shrikes as Damian rubs his thumb against her left nipple.

"Shh, you'll wake Isaac," he muttered into her neck, repositioning himself so he's fully situated between her legs again, which she subconsciously made room for him to do so.

He lies his full body weight on top of her's so the hard planes of his chest was pressed against her soft plump bust.

"I doubt that," she whispered, unsure at the moment, glancing at the door connected to their bedroom that was hosting their child's nursery.

"Anyways we were talking about- ah!" Maps gasped out loud, observing Damian move to bite at her nipple.

"I said no already, will you just drop it," he said kissing the gap between her breast, Maps whined. He pressed his kisses down the valley of her breast, to her navel, all the way down to her pelvic.

He sat upon his knees and forced her legs apart, staring at her wet pussy hungrily, she watched him bow his head between her thighs and gasped as his nose met her hot skin.

Maps clawed at the blankets closing her eyes tight before dropping her head onto her pillow, "H-hey would you sto-mph," his warm breath warned her a second before he brushed his lips against her cunt, spreading her folds with his tongue, he dragged his hot tongue slowly along her clit and teased her.

Humming as his tongue slid in and out of her, running his large hands up and down her quivering legs.

She pulled desperately, trying to pull away, feeling herself become undone by his skillful lips by the second, he grabbed her hips and held her in place keeping her trapped.

She tensed as his tongue flicked over her clit again causing her to jerk upwards, "Ah, Damian!" Maps whispered breathlessly.

He ignored her pleases, pushing a thick finger inside of her, adding another in after hearing a sharp gasp leave her lips. Moving them in and out in time with his mouth, his motions intensified hearing a long sluty moan echo in his ears, he smirked.

"A-at least give it a-ah chance, a month and oh! mph... if you don't like it we could always just m-move back." Maps pleaded, hoping he'd stop distracting her long enough so she could think properly.

But at last, she wasn't going to get such a request any time soon, as Damian moved from her cunt, back up to her neck, then finally her lips. Placing random kisses on her nose, cheek, and forehead still pumping his fingers in and out of her at a vigorous pace.

He was playing a dirty game here.

"Damian-mph" Maps was silenced by his lips connecting with hers grazing a path along her bottom lip with his warm tongue and nips gently with his teeth. Causing her to open her mouth for him so he could deepen the kiss.

Without thinking, Maps wraps her arms around Damian's neck pulling him in closer as their tounges intertwine in a fight for dominance.

Damian won.

Getting lost in the sensation that is Damian, he pulls his fingers free from her throbbing walls causing a short whine from her into their embrace, naturally, he starts grinding into her, creating delicious friction between the two, drawing a deep moan from them both.

Maps couldn't help but grind back into him as their bodies moved like waves together, creating a smooth rhythm. He reached down to knead at her hips and one of her breasts, rolling his index finger and thumb over her right nipple giving it some much-needed attention.

"Damian please," Maps whined breathlessly, Damian couldn't help but smile.

"Please what?" he said teasingly, knowing he now has the upper hand.

"I- you... this- ah! this isn't fair," Maps half-cries and half-moans out loud as he enters her.

"This is fair love," he whispers into her ear as he starts to move in and out of her in slow motions and the occasional roll of his hips, dragging out his thrusts. Causing slight grating against her clit, generating yet another familiar vulgar moan to escape her lips, prompting Damian to moan as well.

Damian sighed heated and sharp in her ear finding her little groans the most enraptured noise to ever grace his ears.

Damian moved his hands down to grip her hips as he thrusts up into her hard. And for a while, the only sound that filled their room was their bodies slapping against each other and scattered breathy moans from the both of them.

"N-no, I-" Maps slides her hands up his chest for leverage as he speeds up his pace, she just couldn't get a single word out for every time she did he'd bottom her out completely stealing her breath away, forgetting what she had wanted to say in the first place.

Damit, she wasn't going out like this.

Maps frowned and leaned up to bit his shoulder, prompting Damian jerk in pain. She quickly shoved him off pushing him to the side so his back was now laying flat on their mattress.

She wastes no time shifting their positions so she was now straddling him, placing both her hands flat on his chest, she looked down at him with dark determined eyes.

"Listen here you idiot," Maps snapped, watching Damian's eyes widen with shock and if she wasn't mistaken... a bit of pride too. "We're doing this whether you like it or not, I already bought the tickets so you can either stay here and sulk while I and your son leave or you can come with us and be a family." Maps huffed angrily, as Damian silently, begrudgingly, contemplated his options.

He sighed closing his eyes, "Fine, but only for a month," he brooded looking like a pouty child.

Maps squealed excitedly leaning down to shower him in kisses and thank you's.

"I promise you won't regret this and this way Isaac can see his uncles and grandpa and-" Damian reached up behind her head smashing her lips against his, he pulled back with a smug smirk.

"Why don't we continue where we left off before you go on your little amusing rant," he suggested placing his hands where her thighs and ass meet.

Maps nodded with a giggle, as Damian began moving her up and down while simultaneously thrusting up into her, picking up his pace where he had left off.

Leaving nothing but soft moans amidst the couple, echoing all throughout the night.

#damian wayne #damimaps #gotham academy #dc comics #fanfiction #batman #batfamily #bruce wayne #jason todd #tim drake #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #alfred pennyworth #maps mizoguchi #damian x maps #smut

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clickbait-official · 2 years

Text

Eschaper - Katsuki Bakugo

masterlist

Tw: kidnapping, mention of blood, general angst? Nothing too graphic.

Reader is referred as “damsel” ONCE and then never again

----------O----------

Eschaper (Origin - Anglo-Norman / Old Northern French)

Verb

To escape

~~~

He thought it was a normal day. It had started out that way.

The sun rose up, stretching its golden light across the sky. Birds sung sweetly and flowers bloomed, giving forth their fragrance to the world.

He had gotten up for work the same time as usual, made himself breakfast and was long out the door before you had even woke up.

Of course, he gave you a kiss before he left. Leaving a note with a plate of breakfast on the counter behind him.

Work was normal. Well, as normal as hero work can be. Paperwork in the morning, patrol in the afternoon hours, and homeward bound soon after.

The day is over quickly and Katsuki is happy to go home, to be at peace between your arms.

The street he walks down is quiet, just enough to be of notice.

You and Katsuki live in a fairly-well off neighborhood, some distance from the city.

Despite being away from the city, it’s still rather populated. Which is why it’s strange there aren’t many people out and about this time of day.

Isn’t 3pm when school lets out? He thinks, stepping up on the front stoop of his home.

His key turns the knob, and the door opens with a dreadful creak.

“Hello?” He calls. No answer.

Now much more alert, Bakugo walks through the first floor, realizing that the breakfast he laid out for you was left untouched.

Where the hell were you?

He takes the steps two at a time, and knocks loudly on your shared bedroom door.

Hearing no response, he gently opens the door.

Oh. Oh no.

The room was a mess, and definitely not what he left behind. A struggle had clearly taken place, and Katsuki couldn’t help the rock that sank in his stomach.

He looks back over the sheets, noting the traces of blood on them.

A spark of urgency quickly fills him, and he calls Kirishima.

~~~

“I-They were there this morning,” He tells Kirishima, who brought along the rest of the Bakusquad from their old class in UA.

“Did you see them anytime today?” Mina asks, and Katsuki’s shoulders sag.

“No I- just look in our room.” He gestures defeatedly towards the door.

Hesitantly, the rest of the group goes to see what Bakugo had seen just hours prior.

Only Kirishima stays behind, having been the first to answer Katsuki’s call.

“We’ll get them back home,” He says, bringing Katsuki into a hug. Bakugo shifts towards the embrace, a sob growing in his throat.

“I promise.”

~~~

It’s been three days.

The warehouse was dusty and cluttered. Katsuki winced internally as he walked by the mounds of trash that had accumulated over the years.

This was where you were last spotted.

By now many heroes had taken up your case, and news reports were going crazy for it.

So was he, Katsuki thought. So was he.

Katsuki hears a hushed conversation, keeping quiet and creeping closer.

“-And you’re sure ‘bout this? That this’ll draw ‘im out?”

“Yes! Yes, I’m sure. Stop questioning me.”

The conversation lulls, before the person responds.

“If you’re sure, boss.”

“This will most definitely draw Dynamight out. We’ve got his lover. He doesn’t care about anything else!” The person, which Katsuki now dubbed the villain, laughed.

The nasally voice made his blood boil.

Ignoring the buzz of his teammates in his ear, Bakugo Katsuki steps forward.

“Where are they.” He asks, but doesn’t phrase it like a question.

“Ah, Dynamight! Here for your lover, are you?” The villain doesn’t miss a beat, eyes gleaming in delight.

The person the villain was talking to - the lackey - steps away from the villain, eyes flicking back and forth between the two.

“Yes,” He hisses through gritted teeth, then repeats himself. “Where are they?”

The villain chuckles to himself, and it only makes Katsuki more angry.

“Oh, Dyanmight! They don’t matter now that you’re here!”

The manic energy now radiating off the villain has Bakugo stepping back, forgetting for a moment that there was the other person.

He remembers the next second, when out of the corner of his eye he sees a brick flying towards him.

Fuck.

~~~

Katsuki wakes in a cell. It’s dark and the only light is from the door. Well, what would be a door.

It’s rather reminiscent of a jail cell, with thick iron bars in place of an actual door.

He stands up from the thin mattress and walks towards the bars.

There you are.

You’re in a similar situation as him, sitting alone in a cell. Relief floods him at the sight of you, and quickly he notices that you’re wake.

“Y/n!” He calls over to you, ignoring the guilt in his chest, and you turn towards him, moving towards your set of bars.

“Hey Katsuki~” You say, voice singsong-ish. You make a little heart out of your hands, smiling softly despite the situation. His heart clenches at the action, and he copies it. He notices there are cuffs on his wrists.

Quirk-canceling.

“Are you finished?” Says the villain, annoyed.

Both your heads whip towards the sound as the villain steps forward. He grins, shaking a set of keys.

They jangle together, creating a mocking symphony.

“Let’s talk, Dynamight~ Away from here.”

Katsuki opens his mouth, lips chapped. How long was he down here for?

“What about Y/n?”

“Oh, how heroic of you. Always wanting to save your damsel in distress, hmm?” He mocks.

“Don’t worry, sunshine. They’re my blackmail!”

He explains that he intends to use you to make Katsuki “want” to work for him, as a villain.

“The great Dynamight will be mine!” He monologues, in such a possessive manner it makes Katsuki panic internally.

He unlocks Bakugo’s cell, and pulls him forward.

“Come along now, we have many things to discuss”

He looks behind him and sees your face staring back.

~~~

They turn many times, enough to make Katsuki lose track of how to get back to you. The walls all look the same, too.

The villain starts talking before they get to the room, but he’s only a few minutes before he’s interuptted by a thud.

It happens again. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Then, a terrific crash.

”Kacchan! I came as soon as I heard!”

Izuku Midoriya. Of fucking course.

Katsuki couldn’t say that his presence was unwanted though, as the two had repaired their friendship long ago.

“-Into custody. By the way, where’s Y/n?”

“I-I…I don’t know.”

Izuku tilts his head, emerald-green eyes studying him. He smiles, soft and assuring, and Bakugo feels a little better.

“That villain was leading me away from them. Said he wanted to ‘talk’. I tried to remember which way we went but I forgot-!”

“Hey, hey! Easy, Kacchan. We’ll find them.”

The way Izuku says it, like it’s an undeniable fact, soothes a pain in Katsuki’s chest.

Just a little bit.

It’s two hours after that when they find you, in the same state as when Kasuki left you, to his relief.

He doesn’t remember running towards you, or sobbing into your chest how he missed you. At least, he claims not to.

he’s supposed to be a hero, he’s sorry he didn’t save you, the only one he should be able to save he’s so sorry

You savor the feeling of being in his arms again.

And finally, finally, you were both homeward bound.

~~~

I hope you liked this!! If you did, you can always request more! My request page is here!!

Thanks for reading <3

Tagging list:

@solar-core @coffeetealite @stitchkiss

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lawrenceop · 3 years

Text

HOMILY for 3rd Sat (II)

2 Samuel 12:1-7,10-17; Ps 50; Mark 4:35-41

“Why are you so frightened? How is it that you have no faith?” These words of Our Lord haunt us. How is it that we have no faith.

There have probably been many moments when we have felt frightened and alone, when the stormy challenges of life cause the tiny flame of faith to gutter and flicker perilously; and we can be sure that sudden gusts of wind will arise and threaten to extinguish what faith we have.

But we must also recall those wise words of St John Henry Newman: “Ten thousand difficulties do not make one doubt”. Thus Newman, although beset throughout his life by uncertainties and fears and difficulties, also learnt that faith is often the gift of having just enough light to make one step forward on life’s journey towards the safe harbour. So he wrote: “Lead, Kindly Light, amidst th'encircling gloom, Lead Thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home, Lead Thou me on! Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see The distant scene; one step enough for me.”

Often, the issue is not that we don’t have faith, but rather that we are too much afraid because we cannot see as far ahead as we would like. For we would like to see ahead, to know what is to come, to foreknow the future, so that we can plan ahead, and so trust in our own ingenuity and resources. But faith, such as Jesus speaks of in the Gospel, is learning to trust in the One who will not and has not abandoned us, even if he seems to be asleep. Faith is trusting that God knows the way forward, and he sees the distant scene and he knows the route to the safe haven. Faith is allowing him to lead us, one step at a time.

St John Henry Newman, therefore, had to learn to trust that Christ would lead him forward with the kindly, gentle, and maybe small light of faith. So Newman writes: “I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou Shouldst lead me on; I loved to choose and see my path; but now Lead Thou me on!”

What led St John Henry Newman to this conversion, this deeper trust in God? It was a living encounter with Christ, a profound knowledge of the Word of God, and an experience of God’s love coming from the Sacraments, above all, the Blessed Sacrament. So in the 1830s, Newman writes in a letter to a Catholic friend that at first he didn’t understand what the Mass was about, nor did he notice the flickering light of the Tabernacle lamp that burns there as a symbol of faith in the Real Presence. But later, he says, “after tasting of the [awesome] delight of worshipping God in His Temple, how unspeakably cold is the idea of a Temple without that Divine Presence!“ For he had tasted the love of God present in the Eucharist. Newman marvelled that God was present for us in the Tabernacle, lovingly awaiting us, seemingly asleep, as it were, but always actively present for us. This moved him to know the love of God made visible in Christ. Hence he wrote: “To know that He is close by – to be able again and again through the day to go in to Him” is “such an incomparable blessing.”

Hence the Holy Father reminded us in his first encyclical Lumen Fidei that “Faith is born of an encounter with the living God who calls us and reveals his love, a love which precedes us and upon which we can lean for security and for building our lives.” May we encounter Christ in the Eucharist, He who is the “true Body” born of the Virgin Mary. And may Mary, whose faith burns like a star in the darkness, lead us homewards to God. For as St Thomas Aquinas said: “As mariners are guided into port by the shining of a star, so Christians are guided to heaven by Mary.”

#faith #light #Newman #Eucharist #Real Presence

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kyloren · 5 years

Note

i was never really into the jonsa ship, but that post of yours has got me really interested... do you have any fave fics of them??

welp, we’re going old-school, lads. prepare for some of my favourite fandom throwbacks well, I failed at that, I put some of the newer things on the list, too

CANON-VERSE:

Now You See Me: Kissed by fire, Ygritte thought to herself, just like me.

Goodbye Means Going Away (And Going Away Means Forgetting): Memory is unreliable. No one understands this better than Rickon Stark.

Take My Crown Away (Don’t Smile So Sweetly, My Love): A world where everything is easier. Except for those who love, and love too much.

Build a Ladder to the Stars: Jon abandons the Night’s Watch to join Robb’s cause. After rescuing Sansa from King’s Landing, he and Sansa find themselves in a relationship they never saw coming.

A Winter’s Tale: The War of Three Dragons comes to the Vale, bringing Jon Snow and Sansa Stark together once more.

The Winter of Our Discontent: In the end it is Jon and his men of the Night’s Watch who come to take her back to Winterfell.

tell me true (who are you): Ned Stark brought a dark-haired, grey-eyed bastard babe home and called him son. Years later, Jon Targaryen does the same.

Lift Me Like an Olive Branch and Be My Homeward Dove: She never dreams of Jon Snow but in the end he is the one that comes for her under a Targaryen banner, the might of Winterfell and the North behind him with their father’s sword on his back.

The Whispering Ghosts (Left You Out In The Cold): Winter came and brought Jon home. [this is the first Jonsa fic I ever read, boy, did it fuck me up]

A Bronze Crown: In the end there are no knights. In the end Sansa must rescue herself. Based on the prompt: he doesn’t ride to her rescue; she comes north with her granduncle and the armies of the Vale to wage war on the Boltons, save his life and teach his assassins and the Boltons a sharp lesson.

how ruthless are the gentle*: “Yes, I do.” The easiest lie he’s ever told, by far. It came so naturally, he hardly thought of it as false. “She’s easy to love.”

Tell the Ones That Need to Know (We Are Headed North)*: After years of confinement in the Red Keep with Ned prisoner in the black cells, the Dragon Queen comes. With the knowledge that Jon Snow is actually a Targaryen, she agrees to let the Starks return to Winterfell only if Jon marries one of the Stark daughters. Sansa volunteers so they can all go home. Soon she figures out being married to Jon isn’t bad, but it is complicated.

Cripples, Bastards and Broken Things*: We know no King, but the King in the North whose name is Stark.

Dragons of Red, Dragons of White*: An AU where the Battle of the Trident took place, but just between Rhaegar Targaryen and Robert Baratheon. Their duel and its outcome have ramifications that none could foresee. In the world built afterwards, dragons once again rule and roam Westeros, among them the son of a northern beauty and the king. Prince Jon and his kin, Stark and Targaryen alike, face new challenges from both without and within. Whatever the future holds, the Seven Kingdoms will learn that, whether in a coat of red or a coat of white, a dragon still has claws.

A Knight’s Watch: Jon Snow is forbidden to take the black by his father. Instead he sent to squire for a famous knight, beginning a long arduous journey that causes him to cross paths with characters he never would have. Along the way he learns truths long hidden and discovers love in the most unlikely of places.

The Conquest*: Three hundred years after Aegon the Conqueror built a new empire on the ashes of the Valyrian Freehold the known world is a place of war. The Targaryen Empire is pressed by enemies, the Seven Kingdoms war amongst themselves and forces contrive to pull them all apart.

Live Without Shame: When Catelyn’s treatment of Winterfell’s Bastard unexpectedly softens, Sansa reconsiders her relationship with Jon. But despite the revelations that ensue, Jon must and will always remain Winterfell’s Bastard and suffer its consequences.

The Tempered Kingdoms*: After years of wars, death, destruction, politics, and White Walkers, a tentative calm has returned to Westeros partially due to the rulership of King Jon and Queen Daenerys. But politics rues its head again as Stannis Baratheon demands his right to rule, while the former Queen Cersei languishes in a cell, plotting her revenge against all who live above her. Sansa Stark is forced to return to King’s Landing after being found by the rumored lovers Jaime Lannister and Brienne of Tarth.

winterbloom: “You’ve traveled a long way for a rumor.” Sansa lives at the Wall under the protection of her brother Jon Snow, but when Sandor Clegane comes looking for her, she and Jon begin to realize that she is not as safe as they once hoped.

As History Changes: Jon agrees to accompany Stannis south to the Vale and he meets a person he did not expect to meet.

hold onto your heart (you’ll keep it safe): When Sansa turns eleven her wrist burns. She excitedly unwraps the cloth guarding her skin, waiting eagerly for the name to finish forming. The dark letters stop after only three and when Sansa leans in closer she realises that she knows that name and she knows that handwriting already.

carve your heart into mine: Sansa spent many evenings sewing her wedding dress by the fire, dreaming of her husband. The gown spilled out of her hands like a silver river, burning brighter from the light of the flames. She had embroidered it with a noble husband in mind, but she wed her lowborn love in the godswood, with snowflakes falling on her veil.

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE:

Into the Darkness of the Grave: The tragic death of Eddard Stark’s cousin Lyanna brings her estranged son back to Winterfell House, the family’s old plantation home, for her funeral.

The Other Shoe: If anyone had told Sansa Stark that she would be married to Jon Snow, expecting a child with him at the age of nineteen she would have laughed at them. Not because Jon was a bad person, for he had slowly come out of his shell in the past seven years; not because she was young, her parents were married right out of Hogwarts; simply because Sansa Stark seemed to be the anthesis of a happy ending.

several sunlit days: Everyone knows you don’t date Robb Stark’s sisters unless you want to spend your days avoiding hexes and angry bludgers shot at your head. Too bad Jon’s traitorous feelings could care less.

the unexpected champion: Jon must swim to The Black Lake and retrieve something *cough* Sansa *cough* stolen from him. This task makes him realize who he should invite to the Yule Ball.

Where Did You Sleep Last Night: Sansa needs a new guitarist, Jon needs a new band, and the two of them definitely don’t need each other.

and labor till the work is done: Stark Industries is a family legacy she was hoping to avoid: Robb is a project manager, grooming to eventually be a partner, Arya is a summer intern with Bran sure to follow next year and Rickon in another three, and even Jon Snow, who is technically not family but who has been around for as long as Sansa can remember, works as an estimator. But Sansa is not who she was at sixteen or eighteen or even twenty and she’s still in the process of learning what’s truly important, like who she is, who she wants to be, and what kind of people she wants in her life.

One Of The Few Things: Jaime and Sansa spend a lot of time pining over Brienne and Jon together. Sometimes, they actually even do their jobs.

flower shaped heart*: Alayne Stone has lived her whole life in her hidden tower, forbidden by Mother to leave. But she yearns for an adventure like the ones in the songs, so when a man named Jon Snow crashes into her tower and into her life, she seizes the chance. They travel to King’s Landing where the floating lanterns shine each year on her nameday. The new world is exciting and frightening, but Jon Snow is there to guide her every step. He is not nearly as terrible as Mother said men are, though the rest of the world might be. Danger, betrayals, and lies form the steps of their journey as Alayne uncovers terrible secrets.

Crawl up to my Room: Jon left her side after a few moments of silence and she watched him leave with a quiet thought playing in her mind. He was her stepbrother for only a few hours, and she already found herself utterly fascinated and irritated with Jon Stark.

in the summer, as the lilacs bloom: “You did tech in high school,” Sansa points out. (Yeah, I did tech because you were playing the lead and I was in love with you.) Jon doesn’t tell her that, though. Of course not. Instead he agrees to spend his summer stage managing this passion project of hers, and some trace of his seventeen-year-old self has dried out his throat at the thought of three months’ constant contact with Sansa.

Down from the Mountain: Sansa flies home from college after her older brother Robb, one of the country’s hottest young pitchers, is hurt in a car accident. Robb’s best friend Jon is there to help the Stark family in any way he can.

Little Bed in the Big Woods: “I stared at him for a solid five minutes because he looked like what I imagine god would look like if god was a lumberjack.”

A Game of Stars*: When the Mad Emperor hears that the Starks are Force-sensitive, he discovers the hidden rebel base on Hoth. He sends Jon there with one order: Burn them all. But bring the Stark children to Coruscant. It’s time for the two most powerful Force bloodlines in the galaxy to merge.

I’ll Pack My Goods for the Arkansas Woods*: When Sansa’s brother goes missing, it falls to her to defend the house and the woods against the greed of the Boltons and Freys. All of this would be much easier if she could fight fire with fire, and there’s a saying in the valley: that all the Starks are a little wild, and all the Targaryens are a little mad. Her cousin Jon just happens to be both.

In the Face of Death: On a long list of things Jon never expected, Sansa came top.

United States of Irreversible Oblivion: With the government losing its fight at the northern border, Sansa’s only hope is that one of its soldiers, Office Jon Snow, will return for her and save her from the horrors of a collapsing society.

remember me love when i’m reborn: ‘Longest Night’ has biggest night in hollywood history. “Joffrey wanted someone to make him famous, and as soon as Sansa wrote a movie for him that did just that, he left her in the dirt.”

Hear the Wolf*: The Starks are in Hogwarts. Sansa has to learn to stand up to her ex-boyfriend and Jon has to learn to face his past. They’re determined to do it alone. Will they ever admit they’re stronger together?

Somewhere in the Winter Woods*: Lost on her way to her grandmother’s cabin in the winter woods after running away from home, beautiful young Sansa thinks she’s run into trouble when she crosses a white wolf in the forest. Instead of harming her, the animal guides her to his master, a handsome warrior named Jon who lives in solitude and clothes himself in black.

* marks the ongoing stories.

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