#amata talks

[whats-amata-you]

Alright y’all hear me out, but I kinda like this interpretation of the Kaiba brothers where they have to deal with the consequences of a very codependent sibling relationship. Not like in the “something happens to Mokuba and Seto has a crisis” kind way, but in the “Mokuba doesn’t know who the hell he is outside the context of being Seto’s little brother” kind of way.

Literally everything Seto ever did from the day Mokuba was born was toward the singular goal of Mokuba’s wellbeing. He sacrificed everything to give Mokuba better opportunities, a more stable home life, a better chance at happiness than Seto ever really had for himself. Seto even gave up huge swaths of who he himself was to work toward that goal. It was all for Mokuba.

But Mokuba was right there with him, the whole time, watching his brother suffer and doing everything in his power to protect him. Mokuba’s whole identity revolves just as much around Seto as Seto’s does around Mokuba.

And that’s fucked up all well and good when Seto’s a teenager and Mokuba hasn’t even hit puberty and only one of them is really taking on any serious adult responsibility. But imagine what that must be like when Mokuba grows up.

Imagine being 20 and as long as you can remember you’ve been worrying about keeping your older brother alive. Maybe he’s in late twenties or early thirties now, and life has finally forced him to either do the work of healing and moving on or else spiraling into self-destruction to the point that not even you can save him anymore. Maybe he’s married off and happy in his own life, or maybe he’s dead or missing and left you behind as his only heir to the family fortune.

And you’re just as completely, utterly lost either way because either way, he doesn’t need you the same way anymore. And on top of that, you realize you don’t really need him the same way anymore.

His routines aren’t yours anymore. His moods don’t set the tone for your whole day anymore. You don’t plan your life around him and his needs anymore.

So. What do you do when you’re suddenly cut loose and left adrift?

I imagine Mokuba floating through life a lot for his twenties, maybe into his thirties. He’s got no sense of direction or purpose without Seto being the center of it all. He realizes he doesn’t have to become a businessman like Seto and help run Kaiba Corporation, but doesn’t know what the hell else he might even want to do. Doesn’t even have a clue. He goes into business anyway because he knows he has to do something, but he doesn’t really enjoy it and it wears on him. He’s popular with women but can’t make a relationship last more than a few weeks; they keep fizzling out because he just doesn’t seem to have any ambition.

It’s super easy for Mokuba to see and acknowledge how Seto was always sort of his dad when they were kids, as well as his brother. Seto actively took up the role and wasn’t shy about saying so outright. But I don’t think either of them realizes quite as easily just how much Mokuba was parentified too, even from a very young age. Seto made Mokuba’s physical health and overall wellbeing his business on purpose, but Mokuba accidentally stumbled into providing a level of emotional support to Seto that no child should ever be responsible for. That kind of relationship would fuck anyone up.

I feel like an interpretation of them Kaiba brothers that had a Mokuba who ended up being rather directionless and having issues with his sense of who the hell he is after Seto’s inevitable Character Development one way or the other is worth exploring. People change over time, and if a fic is set a decade or more post-canon…idk, I just feel like Mokuba’s trauma deserves some serious exploration, too.

[demonicdiligence]

@entwinedfates wanted a meal!

Cooking for others was often more of an art than a science. Left with little nothing but the desire to impress, Aamon went with a simple, hearty dish that was often cooked for him growing up within the upper circles of the Underworld.

Sliced, sauted eggplant - lamb meat with chopped tomatos and a bevy of sauces - and lastly, a succulent, savoury custard atop it.

"Here, moussaka. It's not the recipe I'm most practiced in, I admit. But it's something that makes me often think of home."

Aamon explains as he hands the dish off to Amata.

[localwench]

i live too far from italy :(

[daydreaming-paradies]

Genshin Men and Their Flower Language(s)

ᡣ𐭩 Summary: Every flower has its own language. What flower language do these genshin men have?

ᡣ𐭩 characters: Zhongli(150), Childe(151), Diluc(182), Kaeya(141)

ᡣ𐭩 Warnings: Fluff, wholesome, a bit angst in Diluc and Kaeya's part

ᡣ𐭩 ~ Want to Continue?~ part 2

art belongs to @/eriimyon on X/Twitter

Zhongli

Baby's Breath-Everlasting Love

As a former archon, he has seen people come and go. He had learned to accept it years ago however when he first met you, he once thought that you were out of his league. But you proved him wrong, you took your time understanding him. You were there whenever he talks about his stories even if you do not like history, your attention is always on him. You make him feel loved no matter what he does on a daily basis. Yes in his eyes, you are his silly lover and his one and only. He knows that he will outlive you and he will miss you dearly so if he had any flower to give you daily is baby’s breath because for you, you are his everlasting love. Even if you pass on to the afterlife, you will be forever in his memories and his one true love.

Childe

Gardenia- You're lovely, Secret Love

You are the secret love of Childe. You know that he is a harbinger and you know he loves to battle but Childe for him, seeing you after he got home from a tiring mission had brightened his day. Childe knows that he brings danger and harm to you so he keeps you a secret from his enemies. His family loves you and his siblings love you to death. In Childe’s mind, you are one of the reasons he is still kicking, the reason for him to smile..the reason to come home in one piece. Every day when he comes home to you, he always gives you Gardenia flowers yet you do not know what it means. You bugged him about it until he revealed it. “Gardenia flowers means you are lovely or secret love, mia amata.” Childe says with a smile. “That means you are my lovely secret love.”

Diluc

White Rose-I am worthy of you

Diluc Ragnvidr is the man with few words, a private person, and a man with walls to protect himself from others. To stop himself from being hurt by another loved one's death but with you, all of that is out of the window. With you alone, he is very attentive despite his nightly duties. He always makes sure to put your needs before his own. You both made a routine to give each other flowers whenever you two see each other either in privacy or in private. Your flowers is always the red rose but Diluc’s rose is white roses. You later ask Lisa what the white rose means and you were surprised to say the least. White roses means innocence and purity, you’re heavenly, secrecy and silence and I am worthy of you. Diluc was in a surprise when you hugged him, killing him with your kisses and saying to him. “Thank you, my nightly Knight.” This makes the poor man tear up and embrace you in his arms. You are both worthy of each other. Never let each other go.

Kaeya

Orange Blossom-Eternal Love

Who says that even the broken can fall in love? For Kaeya, it is him. He has been hiding his pain with a sly smile and the flirtiness, hiding the turmoil in his heart. To Kaeya, he thought that he would be alone in this world where nobody loved him nor understand until you came into his life. Kaeya was wary of you at first but after some time, he realized that you did not have any ill motives towards him. You understand him, love him for who he really is despite what others said about him. You make his life worth something and if he had to pick a flower to describe you. It would be an orange blossom flower. Even in a different universe..even if you are gone from his life, his love for you will be eternal.

~Taglist: @areislol @purpleqilinwrites @amxto @yoghurtsan @ryuryuryuyurboat @windblume-wishes @thestarswhisper @the-guardian-kitsune @sanzach @asoulsreverie @inkybloom-luv @ainescribe @kitsuvil @dxmoness @kalims @mccnstruck @dailypenpen @husky-studies

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Heart’s Desire: Heart

Heart's Desire: You are Amata, the dream that embodies adoration and one of Morpheus’s most treasured creations. As one of the few entities that Desire actually seems to like, it is your job to complete official business between the Dreaming and the Threshold. Too bad a scheming Endless has decided to play a little game and give you, their precious rare friend, a nudge in the right direction.

Warnings: Desire Drugging Amata.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Named Dream!Reader, Amata: Latin for beloved, Sex pollen because Desire is a *bitch*.

Word Count: ~4.4k

Masterlist | Desire

It is one of your greatest pleasures to watch dreamers revel in your work. As a dream that embodies adoration, you are often surrounded by happiness and love. Your gentle and kind nature often leads those within the Dreaming to come to you for comfort when things go awry, or they need sound advice from someone incapable of holding a grudge.

You are overjoyed upon the return of Lord Morpheus, having been one of the few of his creations to remain within the crumbling realm, ever faithful. Lord Morpheus has always been a distant figure, even to you, despite you being one of his favorite and most treasured creations. So, you linger in the background as he and his new raven, Matthew, collect his missing tools. Lucienne reassures you that he is just unsettled by his time away from the Dreaming, and you nod in understanding, though deep down you can't help but feel a pang of hurt at his distance.

As the days pass, you find yourself wandering through the corridors of the palace in various states of repair, your footsteps silent against the shifting marble. Upon turning down a hall of antiquities from the time of the Gods, you find Matthew perched in front of a large, ornate mirror that seems to shimmer with an otherworldly light. It is, after all, Narcissus' Mirror.

His glossy feathers reflect tiny hints of ethereal colors as he cocks his head in curiosity. You approach the raven cautiously, your heart fluttering with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. It has been so long since you had the company of others, Lucienne, Mervyn, and the brothers notwithstanding.

"Hello, Matthew," you greet softly, coming to a stop near him and folding your hands against your chiton. The raven jumps at your words, wings flapping as he settles himself, and then turns to you.

“Oh! Hi! You’re Amata… right?” Matthew asks, his head cocking side to side. He can see why Morpheus is so enamored with you. Your skin is much like Gault’s, but shifting and swirling in a kaleidoscope of shimmering colors. Space. You had space in your skin! The boss has told him all about you, rather obsessively, but Matthew knows better than to comment.

You are Amata, the dream that embodies adoration, and certainly one of Morpheus’ favorites. Spun and sewn from millions of nebulas and constellations, your skin is a constant shifting of colors from the deepest of purples and blues, all the way to a sunny and heart-warming yellow and pink. He even saw an intense red bloom briefly on your shoulder the other day, twinkling and shimmering for about half an hour before morphing into a different nebulae. At this point, Matthew is convinced you are space, and the nebulas on your skin were painted by Morpheus. They probably were at this point.

“Oh, yes, that is correct,” you nod in acknowledgment, a warm smile gracing your ever-changing features as you look at the raven perched before you.

“Morpheus talks a lot about you,” Matthew continues, his glossy black feathers ruffling with excitement as he speaks. "He mentioned how you were there for him during some difficult times, offering comfort and guidance when he needed it most.”

You tilt your head, intrigued. Or perhaps lovesick would be more accurate. "Has he now?"

“Oh yeah, the boss really likes to talk about you. He mentioned how much he values your presence here in the Dreaming, how your gentle nature and unwavering kindness had been a source of solace for him, especially during his recent troubles," Matthew chirps animatedly, hopping a bit closer to you. “Exact words by the way, I don’t think my vocabulary is up to his.”

You can't help but feel a rush of warmth at Matthew's words, a mixture of joy and sadness swirling within you. Morpheus’ rare moments of vulnerability and openness with you had created a deep bond between you, one that you cherished more than words could express. But he would never act upon such feelings, and that drags upon your heart like a weight that cannot be lifted. You clear your thoughts of your own personal woes and address Matthew once more.

“I see that you are interested in the mirror?”

“Oh yeah, it’s really cool, I can see my human self in it! Or at least what I used to look like, I’m a bird now. Obviously.”

"Yes, Narcissus' Mirror tends to show inner desires," you reply, your small smile almost pained. "They say it has the power to show one's true self, or perhaps a reflection of what once was and at times, what could be."

“That’s why I’m seeing my old self?” Matthew exclaims, his eyes wide with wonder. "So, what would you see if you looked into the mirror, Amata? Just yourself?”

Oh no, the mirror would show you something you had spent far too many hours pining over. Slowly, you step closer to the glistening surface, your reflection wavering and shifting in the ethereal light.

As you gaze into the mirror, the colors of your nebulae spin and dance in an intricate display. Images flicker across the mirror's surface—a glimpse of a different time, a different place. And then, for a brief moment, you see it.

A figure emerges from the swirling colors, one that bears a striking resemblance to yourself but seems more... complete. Radiant and whole in a way you have never felt before. It is as if all your scattered pieces have come together to form a dazzling mosaic of beauty and adoration.

What breaks your little heart, if you even had one, every time, is that beside you stands Morpheus, his eyes soft and filled with a tenderness you have only ever dreamed of. In that reflection, he reaches out a hand towards you, a ghostly touch that sends shivers down your spine. You can almost feel the coolness of his fingers against yours, a sensation so achingly real it almost brings tears to your eyes.

But as quickly as the image appears, it vanishes, leaving you standing before the mirror with a heart heavy with longing. You turn to Matthew, forcing a smile to mask the ache in your chest.

"It shows what we desire most," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "Sometimes, it can be both a gift and a curse to see such things."

“Woah!” Matthew gasps. “That’s like a real-life version of the Mirror of Erised!”

“The mirror of what?” you question the raven, your head tilting in confusion. Matthew hops excitedly, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

"You know, in Harry Potter? The Mirror of Erised shows you your heart's deepest desire, and it's all twisted and messed up because sometimes what we want isn't good for us. It's like this mirror is doing the same thing. That's so cool!"

You still have no idea what he speaks of, but he appears to be so enthused about the topic that you decide to play along. Who could possibly hinder such happiness?

"Perhaps you're right, Matthew," you muse, running a finger along the edge of the mirror. "Though I don't know if my desire is twisted or messed up. It's just... complicated."

Matthew cocks his head, studying you with a quiet intensity. This is his first time seeing you so un-Amata-like. "Complicated how?"

"It's nothing, Matthew," you say, trying to brush off the intensity of your emotions. "Just a silly dream, that's all. It's been that way for thousands of years. I think it is apart of my creation.”

The raven doesn't look convinced, but he lets the subject drop. You bid him a pleasant dream and stride away, intending to return to your duties. Despite your efforts to leave your feelings behind, they cling to you like a stubborn shadow. You roam the palace halls, your thoughts circling back to the image in the mirror and the tender look in Morpheus' eyes. It is a cruel reminder of what could never be, and yet, you can't tear your mind away from it.

As the evening comes and the stars twinkle brightly in the Dreaming's sky, you find yourself in the garden of eternal blooms. The flowers glow softly, their colors shifting and changing much like your own skin. A gift long given by your lord. You sit on a bench, gazing up at the stars, lost in thought.

"Amata," a familiar voice calls, pulling you from your reverie. You turn to see Lucienne approaching, her expression gentle and understanding.

"Lucienne," you greet, your smile genuine despite the heaviness in your heart. "What brings you here?"

"I came to check on you," she says, sitting beside you. "You've seemed... distant lately. Despite Lord Morpheus' return. Is it, perhaps—"

"I have had centuries to adjust to the matter of my heart, Lucienne," you softly speak, cutting her off. "And I don’t even have one." The librarian clasps her hands behind her back and approaches the end of the bench you are perched on.

"That does not mean you are not capable of feeling, Amata,” Lucienne finishes gently, her eyes soft and understanding. “Your very essence is woven from the threads of adoration and love. Heart or no heart, you embody those emotions more profoundly than most.”

You look down, the shifting colors of your skin reflecting the turmoil within. “I know. But it is hard, Lucienne. It is hard to love so deeply and know it will never be reciprocated because of duty.”

You sit there in silence, lost in thought as the stars continue to twinkle above. Lucienne waits patiently, allowing you the space to process your feelings. After a moment, she speaks softly, her voice a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves of the eternal blooms.

"Lord Morpheus has returned to us changed. His feelings and actions are no longer set in stone," Lucienne continues. "He is grappling with his own burdens, just as you are with yours. Give him time. Give yourself time."

"What if my feelings are just a product of my nature as Amata? A dream woven from the threads of adoration and love?"

Lucienne shakes her head gently. "No," she says firmly. "Your feelings are real, Amata. They are a part of who you are, just as much as your shifting colors and your gift of adoration." She reaches out and places a comforting hand on your arm. "Love is not something that can be easily defined or contained within rules and expectations," she continues softly. "It is a force that transcends all boundaries, a powerful emotion that can shape us in ways we never thought possible."

You look down at your hands, clenched tightly in your lap. You have always been strict with yourself, never allowing yourself to feel too deeply for the sake of duty. Your loyalty is woven in the marrow of your being. But Lucienne's words resonate with you, stirring something deep within your heart. Morpheus has changed.

With those words, she walks away, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The garden around you seems to hum with quiet understanding, the blooms glowing softly in the moonlight. You take a deep breath, drawing strength from the beauty and tranquility of the Dreaming.

Yes, Morpheus has changed, but it is not within your right as his creation to assume his thoughts have wavered. He is still out of reach.

Morpheus summons you to the throne room for official business of the Dreaming. No doubt he is sending you on an errand. Since his return, he has only called upon your presence when in need of your ability and avoided you altogether the rest of the time.

"Amata," he begins, his voice resonating through the vast chamber. You stand before him, dressed regally with the serenity and power of a queen. "I have a task for you. It is one that requires both your unique abilities and your... particular rapport with my sibling, Desire."

You nod, knowing you are the most friendly with Desire. It is an unusual relationship, to say the least; however, adoration often intersects with desire, so it makes sense that you would be most familiar with Morpheus' estranged sibling. "Of course, my lord. What do you need of me?"

Morpheus rises from his throne, a stack of official papers materializing in his hand. "These documents must be delivered to the Threshold. They pertain to matters of great importance to the realms, particularly regarding Desire's recent indiscretions. Your presence will ensure their safe passage."

He glides down the curving stairs, and your eyes soak in every lithe and precise move. It is impossible for you not to adore the way he carries himself. Curse your embodiment. You accept the papers, their weight seeming heavier than mere parchment. Your gaze raises back to the starlit ones of your lord, and you give him a head bow. "I understand, my lord. I will see it done."

He steps closer, his gaze softening ever so slightly. "Desire holds you in high regard, Amata. This task is not only one of duty, but of trust. Do not let your heart waver; their recent actions have been untoward and inciteful."

You meet his gaze, your eyes flickering as understanding blooms in your mind. Is Morpheus implying that his imprisonment had been influenced by Desire? It certainly sounds like an action his younger sibling would endeavor in, but one so extreme? No matter what Desire had been involved in, you would keep your head on your shoulders.

"I will not, my lord." You reassure him, "I will fulfill this task with the utmost care."

Morpheus nods, a faint smile touching his lips. "Very well. Proceed with caution."

With a wave of his hand, the world around you shifts, the throne room dissolving into a blur of colors and sensations. When the world stabilizes, you find yourself standing at the entrance to the Threshold, the realm of Desire.

The Threshold is a place of intoxicating beauty and temptation, its landscapes ever-changing to suit the whims of its ruler. The air is thick with the scent of exotic flowers and the hum of desire, a palpable force that seems to tug at your very soul. It is almost a second home to your nature.

You take a deep breath, clearing the suave nature of the realm to lower your guard, from your mind and approach the entrance. The door to the Threshold opens before you, revealing Desire lounging on a lavish chaise, their golden eyes gleaming with amusement. You blink at the cat suit, tail and ears flicking. Their latest form certainly suits them. Catlike indeed.

"Ah, my dear Amata," Desire purrs, rising gracefully to greet you. "What brings you to my domain?" As you step forward into the space and the door closes behind you, Desire slinks up to you and curls their fingers around your jaw to caress your beauty.

You bow slightly, holding out the papers to them, well used to their seductive nature and, if anything, immune to their charm. Desire could not compete with adoration. It is the reason why you are always tasked with business at the Threshold. "I come bearing important documents from Lord Morpheus. He entrusted me with their delivery."

There is a flicker of curiosity in their eyes, and you can sense them reading your thoughts through your actions. They take the documents from your hand, their fingers lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary.

"Interesting," they murmur, flipping through the pages with an air of intrigue. "Matters of great importance indeed." Desire's gaze lifts to meet yours, their eyes filled with a mischievous glint. The papers evaporate in their hands. "I must say, I'm surprised to see you here, Amata. You've been ever so busy tending to the Dreaming."

You shrug slightly, trying to maintain a neutral expression. "With Lord Morpheus returned, I have many tasks to resume," you reply simply. Desire chuckles softly, their voice sending shivers down your spine.

"Ah yes, Morpheus," they purr, running a finger along the edge of your jawline where a galaxy swirls along the curve. Desire would never admit it, but Dream had outdone himself on your creation. "He has always been one for duty and responsibility, has he not?" Their gaze drifts down to your lips, and you can feel the heat of their desire radiating off them in waves.

"He takes the matters of the Dreaming with the greatest of importance," you agree, feeling a surge of pride for the realm you both serve so diligently.

Desire's smile widens, a glint of mischief in their eyes. "Indeed, he does. And yet, I cannot help but wonder about the balance between duty and desire. Tell me, Amata, have you never wished for more?"

You roll your eyes, refusing to be swayed by Desire's insinuations. This is not the first time you and Desire have had this conversation. "My wishes are irrelevant, Desire. My duty to Lord Morpheus and the Dreaming comes first."

Desire seems to appreciate your resolve, a hint of admiration flickering in their eyes before they finally release you from their grasp. "Very well," they say finally, their lips transforming into a wicked smile. "I shall see that these documents reach their destination safely. But I would hate that you came all this way just for business with little old me."

Desire's eyes twinkle with mischief as they reach behind a cushion, revealing a small, ornate bottle. The glass catches the light, casting rainbows across the opulent room. "Before you take your leave," Desire says, holding the bottle out to you, "I have a little something for you. A token of my... affection."

You eye the bottle warily, your hand hesitating as you reach out to take it. The scent that wafts from the open bottle is intoxicating, an intoxicating mix of jasmine and orange with an undercurrent of something wild and untamed. It stirs something deep within you, a longing that you've kept buried for centuries.

"It's a special blend," Desire purrs, watching your reaction with interest. "A perfume unlike any other. Just a dab behind your ears, and it will make the stars themselves seem bland in comparison. I think it will complement your gorgeous complexion, my little dream."

You admire the delicate bottle, gazing at the shimmering fluid suspended in glass. It is almost as if Desire has harnessed the glimmering beauty of stars and swirled it into the perfume to add a touch of your creator. They would never be so thoughtful, however. Your gaze lifts back to Desire, and you give them a thankful but hesitant smile.

"I am honored to receive such a gift from you, Desire," you tell the Endless as your brow furrows. They can see the 'but' lingering in your tone and prompt you.

"But…?" Desire purrs, an eyebrow raised while one of their hands finds its way to your chin, making sure that you are looking in their eyes.

"I have never worn perfume before," you admit shyly. "Am I even worthy of wearing such a cherished creation of Desire?"

The glimmer in Desire's golden eyes almost matches the perfume as their lips curl and they chuckle.

"Oh, my dearest Amata," Desire strokes your galactic skin once more. "Do not let that hold you back. Allow me the honor of applying your first application of perfume," Desire whispers, their voice like velvet.

You swallow, feeling a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. "I... I don't know what to expect," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "Am— am I the one meant to smell it? Or, or is it meant for others?"

Desire's smile widens, a blend of amusement and genuine affection. "That is the beauty of it, my dear. It can be both. Trust me." With that, they uncap the bottle in your hands, the glass stopper releasing a fragrance that is both intoxicating and comforting. They wave the glass wand beneath your nose, ensuring that the scent reaches your senses, before drawing it up your neck. Then with careful precision, Desire tilts your head side to side to dab the perfume behind your ears.

As the scent envelops you, it feels as though the stars themselves have been captured within the bottle, their essence now a part of your very being. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to be lost in the experience. The intoxicating fragrance seems to seep into your pores, filling you with a sense of warmth and longing. It is a feeling you have never experienced before, and it leaves you feeling both vulnerable and alive.

Desire steps back, admiring their handiwork. You open your eyes and gaze at the bottle in your hand. The perfume seems to glow with an inner light, its beauty almost mesmerizing.

"There," Desire says, their voice soft and satisfied. "Now, you will carry the essence of our encounter with you wherever you go. It will serve as a reminder of the connection we share, and the feelings that exist between us." They return the stopper to the perfume bottle and close your fingers around it.

"Go now, Amata," they say, their voice a purred command. "We wouldn't want to keep Dream waiting, now would we?" They return to their lounge upon the red chaise, tail flicking lazily about while you stare down at the little bottle in your hand.

As you step through the entrance back to the Dreaming, the scent of Desire's perfume fills your senses. The fragrance is subtle yet powerful, carrying with it a yearning that resonates deep within your being. You can't help but wonder if this is a normal reaction to the perfume. Surely it is; Desire would never seek to harm you. What would have changed in thousands o fyears you had known them?

You continue your normal route to the palace, slowly feeling your inner being get warmer and warmer. Lifting a hand, you run your fingertips along your jaw and nearly shiver as electrical pleasure echoes across your flesh. Ignore your being, Amata, you always feel a little odd upon your return.

But the sensations only grow worse. You find yourself acutely aware of your surroundings, each sound and sensation amplified by the perfume's effect on your senses. The soft rustle of fabric as you walk, the echo of your footsteps on the marble floor, the dim glow of the dreamlights casting shadows that dance and flicker around you—all of it combines to create a heightened state of awareness. Then an uncomfortable cramp blooms in your abdomen, and the fabric of your dress feels as if it were knives against your flesh.

You attempt to return to your duties in the library, but your discomfort and nausea only intensify, making it impossible for you to focus on the tasks at hand. No matter how you shift, your dress still feels painful against your skin, and the cramping within your abdomen worsens.

As the discomfort in your abdomen intensifies, you double over, clutching your stomach as a wave of nausea washes over you. The scent of the perfume that once filled you with longing now becomes suffocating, making your head spin. The library around you spins and swirls, the endless tomes blurring together in a kaleidoscope of color and text.

"Amata?" Lucienne's voice cuts through the haze, her concerned expression etched into your blurry vision as she rushes to your side. "My goodness, you look ever so poorly!"

Her brow furrows as she studies your face, her hand gently resting on your forehead. Your normally cool skin feels like it is burning from the inside out. You make a noise at her touch and twitch. The scent of the perfume that once filled you with longing now clings to you like an angry shroud, making your head spin.

"Amata, my dear," she murmurs, her voice gentle and soothing. "What is it that ails you?" Her touch sends a wave of relief coursing through your body, easing the cramp in your abdomen. Yet it is still not enough. You need more.

You shake your head weakly; you have no idea. Lucienne's expression softens as she guides you to a nearby chair, seating you gently before kneeling at your feet. "Take deep breaths," she instructs softly. "Perhaps it would be best if you return to your quarters to rest."

"I have work to do," you protest in a barely comprehensible voice.

"Nonsense, you must rest," the librarian scolds you. "Return to your quarters and do not come back until you are better rested."

You comply with great reluctance, for not once in your existence have you ever needed to take a break from your duties. So you head to your quarters, periodically taking pauses to grimace through bludgeoning pain in your abdomen. Stumbling into your room, you glance at your neat bed and decide that you absolutely were not going to climb in bed feeling like a sweaty mess. So your eyes shift to the door to your bath.

You push through the pain, determined to take a bath and regain some semblance of normalcy. As you step into the bathing chamber, you are greeted by the soothing scent of your favorite mixture of herbs and flowers. The warm water beckons you, and you undress quickly, eager to lose the fabric that feels so painful and submerge yourself in its comforting embrace.

Lowering yourself into the softly bubbling water, you whimper as the bubbles pop against your skin. This is supposed to make you feel better! But the pain persists, gnawing at you despite the warmth of the water. You close your eyes, trying to focus on the soothing aroma and the gentle sound of the water, but the discomfort is relentless. Each breath feels like a struggle, and you wonder if this will ever end.

Your eyes sting with unshed tears as you climb out of the bath, wrapping yourself in a thick, plush robe. The fabric feels soft against your sensitive skin, but it does little to alleviate the pain that still grips your abdomen.

You make your way to your bed, the soft sheets beckoning you like a sanctuary. With a weary sigh, you slip beneath the covers, curling up into a tight ball as you try to find a comfortable position. But no matter how you shift, the pain persists, throbbing relentlessly with each beat of your heart. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, hoping that rest will bring you some relief.

Date Published: 5/30/24

Last Edit: 5/30/24

Masterlist | Desire

[ingravinoveritas]

So I just wanna ask u just does this look like a real happy healthy relationship and in love with each or just put on for show for the fans and why do I feel like she making it all about her again and reminded everyone who she with it feels micheal was forced in the pictures taking with her the red carpet photo she looked bored and annoyed cos michael not paying any attention he just look miserable but I bet if it was David standing there instead of anna his face would be beaming like the one Georgia posted of them 4 together micheal face is electric and see how he lean toward David that best friend goals and I just love seeing them together cos that when he at his most happiness place

Also I find it strange that Anna was left out in staged scene but David wife gerogia made appearance doesn't that strike u as odd and gerogia brought the plus one date a girl could have and it wasnt anna yet they call each other wife clearly not as close etc then David and Michael are it seems.

And did u notice in the scene with David and Tom hiddleson about the dog sitter initially could present as benign and then he and the dog get up to all kinds of hijinks and ultimately disrupt stuffy old Michael sheen boring life but for the better like why put that in the script maybe his life with anna is boring and only staying cos he feels he needs too for the young children what do u think of all this

From @amata-haan along with a screenshot of the group photo:

(Grouping all of these together since it seems we've got a bit to talk about here.)

So, the biggest point of discussion seems to be the group pic that Georgia posted, and I will put up a larger size of that for us to discuss:

When I saw that Georgia had posted this in an Insta story, of course my first thought was "Finally a picture of Michael and David together!" I think that was what we were all hoping for all night, to where it was almost glaring that we hadn't gotten one when the event ended (until Georgia's post, that is).

The second thing that came to mind is what you alluded to @moriarty-sisters, about this being a near repeat of what we've seen a few times before (first at the NTAs in 2021, and then the group photo Georgia posted on Michael's birthday, that appears to have been taken after Michael went to see Macbeth):

Every time, Georgia is on the right. Every time, she and Anna have the same tight smiles while Michael and David have huge grins on their faces. At this point, it feels intentional, because twice might be a coincidence, but three times is a plan. There are slight differences to the vibes in each picture--although Georgia looks like she knows a secret and Michael and David look like a very happy couple in every one of them--but last night's group pic was...something.

Which takes me to your comment @phantomstars24 about how Michael is holding AL. I was under the impression that he had his hand on her waist, but if he is touching her breast, I'm perplexed at that being her reaction. She looks stiff and like a deer caught in the headlights, and regardless of where Michael's hand is, it doesn't seem like that's a great way to look when your own boyfriend is touching you. Adding to the strange optics is the fact that Michael is actually leaning toward David in the picture and away from her. It looks like his arm/shoulder is pressing into David and there isn't a millimeter of space between them, yet he seems to be a mile away from Anna despite having an arm around her.

(And none of this is even touching on Georgia using the theme song from Friends in the Insta story for the group pic, which she had to know we would all notice...)

So yes, a lot of thoughts on the group pic, but overall delighted to see Michael and David looking so happy next to each other. Especially Michael, in stark contrast to how he looked in some of the other pictures.

Speaking of which...I briefly talked about Michael and AL at the BAFTAs yesterday here and here, so I will try not to repeat myself too much in this part of my answer. But what I think we are seeing is two things: Anna's fantasy of what she thinks her and Michael's relationship is, and the reality of what we saw at the BAFTAs.

I think in AL's mind, she and Michael were like Georgia and David. But if we are going to say that Georgia and David were very loving and sweet together on the red carpet yesterday--which they absolutely were, with the kiss they shared and David comforting Georgia when she was experiencing anxiety--then there is no way you can look at the pictures of Michael and Anna and see the same thing. Even without bringing GT/DT into it, there is a massive, marked difference between pictures of Michael with AL vs. pictures of him with literally anyone else (such as this pic with Hannah Waddingham).

Looking at Anna's pictures that she posted, every one of them seems to be about ownership, right down to the Insta story with the #mine hashtag (which again seems to be her copying Georgia, also on the night of an award ceremony). The vibe that I got was of a teenager who'd won a date with her favorite celebrity and took him to the prom. Ultimately, though, she looked out of place, and he looked uncomfortable with her, both of which are a remarkable feat after five years of a relationship.

The pictures also repeated themes we've seen before (AL has previously posted a picture of her kissing Michael's cheek where he looks equally withdrawn; the photo in the car on the way to the event is a copy of pictures Georgia has posted of her and David in the car on the way to events) and speak to that idea of pushing a certain narrative, despite neither one of them appearing to sell it very well.

To that end, and to your comments @lepqueen and @turquoisedata, I would agree with you that it looks like AL is trying to mark her territory. The problem is that Michael had more chemistry just talking with David in that opening BAFTAs sketch than he did with Anna the entire night, and she was frequently left looking like she had no idea what she was doing or why she was there. Another example of this is an Insta story she posted earlier today that again demonstrated her main interest in the relationship:

What's particularly noteworthy is the follow up Insta story on the right, which I couldn't believe she actually posted. I think that if you are fine and happy with the narrative you've put out, you are not going to be bothered by or salty about a comment like that, and AL clearly was. And all of this then casts at least some doubt that the pictures she posted are really telling the whole story. Just a recap of what we do know about last night (and if I am forgetting anything, someone please let me know):

- Anna was the only principal member of the cast who was not in the Staged-themed opening sketch, despite being in all three seasons of the show. - Anna was not seated next to Michael during the in person part of the opening sketch, despite there being no reason the producers couldn't have put her next to him even as a seat filler. - Georgia brought her friend Daisy Aitkens as a +1 and sat with her instead of Anna, leaving us with the above picture of AL sitting alone and staring straight ahead while in the background of a Michael J. Fox picture (that she is acting like is a picture of her with him, instead of her photobombing a picture of MJF with his wife). - During the show, the camera repeatedly cut to Michael in the audience when there was no reason to do so, but did not show Anna on camera once.

So yes, I think that if last night at the BAFTAs was somehow AL's attempt to mark her territory/assert her place in the UK acting industry, it did not seem to go over well. I think David and Georgia's relationship and Michael and David's relationship emerged even stronger than before, and unfortunately AL and Michael's relationship did not and does not compare.

My apologies for rambling on, as I never intended for this to get so long. As I've said before, this is all just my opinion, and I know I could be completely wrong, so I'm glad as always to hear from my followers with your thoughts. Thanks for writing in! x

[angel-of-the-moons]

A Most Familiar Color

Charon x Fem!Lone Wanderer

TW/CW: NSFW, Periods/Menstrual Cycle, Period talk, blood, period sex, cramps, blood, violence, mentions of slavery and brainwashing

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: This is entirely self-indulgent. I am suffering from unusually horrible cramps and boom! This came to me. You guys can't tell me Charon will shy away from this sort of thing. Enjoy this... Word vomit lmao.

(caps divider by @/saradika-graphics. Check out their work, I recommend it!)

You really missed your dad right about now.

With each stabbing pain, you remembered your time in Vault 101. You remember when Amata sat you down as preteens and helped you through your panic when you first found traces of blood in your underwear.

Amata herself had hit puberty a little young, and seeing as how you were best friends (and neither of you had your mothers) you confided in one another with everything either of you could fathom; best friends til the end. So, when the pains started and you bled more, Amata told you that you should probably go get your dad, seeing as how he was the resident doctor, and all.

The very thought had mortified you, embarrassed beyond all get-out at the thought of talking to your dad about something like this.

Amata had shrugged, "I had to talk to him about mine. He even gave me tips on how to lessen the cramping. Trust me, your dad is not going to think you're weird or gross."

You rolled in your sleeping bag, the faint memory of more pleasant times overshadowed by the pain you were feeling stabbing low in your abdomen.

You focused on the rest of your memory. As it played out behind closed eyelids.

"This is perfectly natural, sweetie." James had told you as you laid in the sterile-smelling clinic. His eyes, the same color as yours, smiled gently and with infinite patience as he explained what was exactly happening to you.

"It means you're going to be a woman now. And, when you're ready, you could have a baby, if you wanted to."

Your nose had crinkled, the worst of your cramps having died down thanks to the pain pills he'd given you. "I don't want to have a baby."

"I should hope not!" James had laughed. "Not yet, anyway. I'm not old enough to be a granddad yet."

You rolled your eyes and turned onto your side, pulling the blanket up to your chin as you peered at him while he continued to explain what would happen, what to expect, and how to take care of it.

He'd given you these weird things... pads, "sanitary napkins"... and these other cotton contraptions you didn't very much like--tampons. They looked uncomfortable, and when he explained how to use them, you did not like it. Apparently the Vault, when built, took into consideration the female residents and had mandatory cotton growing and harvesting alongside their usual crops for this very reason.

Since this was all new to you, your father suggested the pads and napkins first, and did a short demonstration on a piece of spare cloth how to apply it and wear it comfortably.

All this however, was drowned out when a horrible cramp bled past the barrier the painkillers had built up for you. James had frowned mid-way through his explanation and demonstration, his heart squeezing at seeing you--his only and beloved child--in so much pain. He reached out and gently squeezed your shoulder, "I'll get you some muscle-relaxers, sweetie. I'll have Jonah tell Mr Birch that your schoolwork will have to be done back in our suite until your cycle ends."

"Can you not say that part?" You moan, feeling shame bubble up in your chest. You weren't sure why, but you felt horrified that so many people might be aware of what was going on with you. "Just say I'm sick."

"Okay, if it makes you more comfortable." James said softly. "But I want you to know, that I've seen several of your other classmates about this very situation, honey. It's not gross, it's not strange; and it most certainly is nothing to feel ashamed of."

Your silence stretched in the room, the sound of the air system and rattling of air vents the only thing that filled the void of speech.

"You know... your mother had rather painful periods, herself." James finally spoke up.

Your eyes widened and you lifted your gaze, intrigued. Oftentimes, the only thing that he would mention about your mother was her favorite Bible verse, and her love for you, spoken in her last few moments of life.

"Yes, yes, she did." He continued, seeing your awe and curiosity. "Sometimes they would get so bad, the pains, that she would snap at anyone. She was also prone to mood swings." James chuckled fondly at a distant memory, one he did not voice aloud.

"So, I just want you to know, that I definitely understand how much this can hurt you, sweetheart. Especially when I would have to help massage her belly to ease the cramping."

"...I wish Mom was here." You mutter softly, barely audible. But James picked up on it, smiling bitterly and fixing you with a gaze of love.

"I do, too, sweetheart... God, I do, too."

Yeah, you definitely missed your dad right about now... You missed his gentle words, you missed when his hands would help ease the hot water bottle into your grasp; you missed his ever-patient and comforting presence.

"You're tossing and turning a lot." A gruff and grating voice rumbled from nearby, stoking the fire he had lit hours ago in the tiny, decrepit house the two of you had taken shelter in.

Charon. The ghoul who said few words, the man who had been a slave to the cruel man in Underworld: Ahzrukhal. Charon had been brainwashed ages ago, forced into servitude and to obey the orders of whomever held his contract.

Which, after a difficult bartering session... was now you. Mere moments after buying said contract, Charon had gunned down his malicious former-"employer" with two taps of his hefty shotgun. The second shot completely unnecessary, as the first pull of the trigger completely obliterated the man's head; brain matter and blood and bits of skull painting the dingy walls a deep red.

During your travels, you had even gone so far as to hand Charon his contract to him, telling him he was free, now. He could go where he wanted, when he wanted. You'd even tried to give him a few caps and tried ordering him to buy his own contract from you. But, he explained that, infuriatingly, it "didn't work like that".

And in the stressful months you'd traveled together, things changed. The dynamic between you two. Eventually... that changed, too. Became something personal--intimate.

Before, you would merely knock back some painkillers here and there to offset the pain, exercise to mask the cramps, and hastily wash any blood from your clothes to conceal what exactly was happening to you every four weeks; that shame your father insisted wasn't necessary, ever present in the back of your mind.

"Sorry." You mumble.

"It does not bother me." Charon mumbled, his hazy eyes slowly gliding from the glow of the fire and towards you as you rolled to your other side so your back was too him. You just couldn't take his intense gaze. Not right now.

"Were you hurt in the fight earlier?"

And yeah, the two of you got into a rather violent melee when you were ambushed by a few raiders hyped up on psycho. You'd taken a bat to your gut, which, you swore, is what made your cramps worse, today; aside from the bruise that was likely there, now.

The wind rattled the boarded up windows, whistling angrily through cracks unseen as the first heavy winter storm swept over the Capital Wasteland.

"Yeah. I'm just--just sore." You mumble, tucking deeper into your bedroll.

That's when Charon said the words you had really hoped he would utter: "Let me see. We still have the ointment from the coots back in Oasis. It'll help with the bruise."

"No--Charon, I'm fine." You blabber out nervously, fingers gripping the thin fabric wrapping around you as you wished you could sink deeper into the ruined cushions of the rather questionable old couch you laid on.

You should have known better. Aside from your budding and confusing relationship, Charon still had his driven mentality to ensure the safety of his employer. You. Even if you didn't like it at the moment.

"No. Let me see." Charon insisted.

The shuffled of dirt and trash on the old wooden floors, coupled with the soft squeak of his old leather jacket and patchwork armor soon followed.

"Charon, I'm--" Your voice is cut short when his large hands are placed on your diminutive body. Or, well. You were average. Charon was... large. He was nearly as tall as someone in a suit of power armor.

You couldn't fight him as he gently manhandled you, unzipping your warm trappings to free you from your cocoon of privacy. His hands stayed at your sides, resting softly on your hips as he looked at you expectantly, his poker face, as usual, was absolutely impossible to decipher.

But you knew. He was waiting for your consent, or for you to start.

You sighed and began unzipping your vault suit. A bit flashy in the wasteland, for sure... but in the winter it served very well to keep you warm. You felt a flush rise in your cheeks as the chilly air in the house covered your bare skin as you shimmied the top half of your suit off, revealing the threadbare tank top you wore beneath.

Charon gently guided you back down, so you were laying flat on your back as his calloused and scarred fingers gently hiked your shirt up to your ribs, to peer at the injury he suspected you had.

You had turned your head, chewing the inside of your cheek as his absurdly hot hands smoothed over your belly. Yeah, you definitely had a bruise.

"It doesn't look that bad. The ointment from Oasis might help with the soreness." He grunted, turning to rifle through his duffel bag. After a few moments, he pulled back a brown jar from the depths of his things. He unscrewed the tin lid and the acrid smell greets your nose; the pungent ointment smelled awful. But you couldn't deny that it worked great in terms of pain relief.

He scooped out a glob of the murky-white slop and gently began to smooth it down, rubbing and pressing in soothing circles to cover the blossoming purple that covered your midsection.

And, honestly... it helped. Not the bruise, but your cramps. The weight and pressure from his heavy hand massaging your abdomen eased the throb your reproductive organs wrought within you. You sighed in relief at the touch, welcoming his easing of the tightness in your belly.

But, almost as soon as the relief began to seep into your weary body, Charon slipped his hand away. Your smaller hand gripped his thick wrist, "Wait."

He tilted his head, a ruined brow quirking up ever so slightly as scraps of rusty red hair flopped over his scarred and pitted scalp.

"I... can you... keep doing that? It helps. A lot." You say vaguely, looking away from him and biting your lip.

Charon eyes you for a few more seconds, before his hand began to press and soothe once more. As you relaxed into the cushions, Charon's cloudy gaze studied you intently, the gears within his mind grinding and turning.

"You're bleeding, aren't you?" He finally said, bringing your bliss to a screeching halt.

You move to sit up, cringing, "No, no that's not it. I'm just sore, and..."

His hand slid a bit lower, pressing down over the spot that hurt the most, right between your bones poking delicately through your skin. He grunted softly, "You should have said something. Especially if it's hurting you this badly."

"I--It's nothing, Charon." You say, trying to shove his hand away; but his strength did not waver. He continued to press his fingertips down into your smooth skin, rubbing short, tight circles as if he could feel every contraction and throb through your skin.

You groan deeply in relief, unable to contain it as the pain begins to slowly bleed away. "We're out of painkillers."

Charon grumbled in acknowledgment, nodding as his eyes focus on the task his hand was undertaking, the give and slight stretch of your skin as he pulled and pushed; fighting the waves of pain that swept up your body, engaging in a sort of combat with your cramps.

"We will stay here for a few days." Charon continues as his hand smooths flat briefly, before massaging the last echoes of your aches away. "The storm will likely hang over us, and it isn't smart to go out in a blizzard, if this turns into one. We have plenty of provisions to last us until the storm passes."

You nod, your eyes slipping closed as, even though the cramps had lessened to almost nothing, Charon continued to massage your abdomen with his massive hand; the pain blooming into something... else. A fire, not unlike the one that burned in the rusted fireplace, glowed hot and low inside of you, making your body go slick with something other than the blood you knew soaked into the cotton strip in your underwear.

The heat thrummed in your chest and you swallowed, your hand squeezing his wrist once. "I... Y-You can stop, now."

Charon immediately halted, something his palm once again as he looked at you.

This sudden shyness was completely unlike you. You were loud, boisterous, giddy and able to talk down even the most hard-headed individuals; not this... shy little radrabbit.

You groaned again in frustration, gripping his wrist tight as you rode out a fresh cramp.

"There is something," Charon said slowly. "That might help."

"What is it?" You sigh, looking at him with pinched brows.

The moment your eyes fell on him, you swallowed a new lump in your throat as Charon leaned in over you, dwarfing and caging you beneath his massive body on the couch.

"There are ways to help the pains. Basic ones." He said softly, resting his forehead against yours.

You shivered, the heat rolling off of his body triggering a nervous sweat on you. Or maybe it was your body as your temp Rose ad fell--just as your father warned you would happen from time to time. Either way, the smell of him, the lingering ghosts of his touching, and now his innate closeness to you had that heat pool once more lowly in your belly.

"I... Charon, I don't think--" You began to awkwardly bumble out.

It wasn't that you were afraid of the prospect, not at all. You had had sex with each other once or twice already. But sharing your body in such an intimate matter, especially with the... mess going on with your lower half right now... let alone with someone who was, up until recently, your "employee" as he put it, had your stomach flipping with angry butterflies.

His hand that was used to massage your belly braced him up so he could stare down at you. That ever-steely gaze fixed against yours, your lip quivering a little in some sort of shame you cursed yourself for feeling.

"I can help you. It's my job." He says, his voice softer than usual; the deep grating almost missing from him altogether. This was... gentler, as if he was talking to a scared animal.

"Charon, you don't have to... this is..." You struggle out, a deep sigh heaving from you as you tried to come up with an excuse, your fingers toying blindly with his leather belts looped around his torso in an effort to calm down. "It's... gross. Messy."

Shockingly, the ever-rare smile slowly curves his lips, twisting his marred features in a humorous glow as he looked down at you further, a dry chuckle tumbling from him as though you just said the funniest joke on the planet to him.

"Doll..." He whispered to you, leaning in to press his lips on your jaw, just beneath your ear. God, that pet name sent shivers down your spine...

"I have been marred with death and grime for dozens of years. A long fucking time. I'm not afraid of a little blood."

"I..." You hitch, feeling his free hand slide down your front, his thumb sweeping over your pebbled nipple, feeling it through the thin fabric of your tank top. The ache you felt there, too, eased somewhat as he gently rolled and groped at the fat, wrenching something between a grunt and a moan from you.

"Let me help you. And it will help." He growled deeply, sucking a bruise into your throat in such a way that had your back arching and your walls fluttering at his promise.

"...Okay." You finally consent.

The moment you gave your permission, Charon reached down to grab at the edges of your suit, tugging it down your thighs enough to give him space to work while his hand worked its way past the worn elastic of your underwear.

The moment his fingers touched your aching clit, you made a shuddered sound, your hands gripping his leather jacket tight, gritting your teeth as his mouth worked at your throat; the callouses and pitted texture of his hand providing the perfect friction to your throbbing little nub.

Charon groaned against your soft skin, his crooked teeth scraping at your pulse as he spread your lips, his fingers moving to trace your leaking hole.

"You're forgetting that I've had many employers. Women included. I've done this before for them; an orgasm will help." He murmurs, sliding a thick finger inside of you, his thumb circling your clit mercilessly as you walls squeezed down around him.

His tongue traced a bead of sweat that rolled over the knot in your throat, "...you're the only one I'll enjoy doing it for."

The throb in your cunt matched the one in your chest; feeling humbled and happy that he trusted you so entirely--accepted you so fully that anything he did, that could bring you joy or relief, was his own; as though you two were the same person in separate and anything that helped soothe you did the same for him.

"Charon." You moaned weakly, your hips rolling in time with his fingers as he pushed another one inside of you, pressing and curling in the delicious pattern he already knew made you weak in the knees. He was a fast learner, figuring out all your bells and whistles after that first fleeting and awkward sexual encounter the two of you had back in your house in Megaton.

You panted and wheezed, his hand moving wonderfully slow in the best way, massaging your contracting walls as you pressed your legs wider for him; brushing against the rather intimidating bulge in his jeans that he neglected in favor of you.

Almost as soon as his fingers pressed on that spongy spot inside of you that had you seeing stars... A throb of pain overwrote it and you whimpered, your thighs squeezing tight around his wrist as your belly flexed once more.

Charon pulled his mouth free of your neck, looking down at you, his brows furrowed hard as he studied your pained expression. "Another one? How bad?"

"Hurts..." Was all you could sniffle out. "I'm sorry."

"Don't." He growled, leaning down to kiss you deeply, his tongue gently brushing your lips before pulling away again, pushing up on the couch until he stood on his knees and looked down at you.

"Don't ever. Say sorry. To me."

You looked up at him, feeling guilty as you dared spare a glance down at his hand as it withdrew from your heat, smeared with your blood. Your cheeks burned and you tried to hide your face behind your arm.

Charon wiped his hand on his pants and sighed down at you. It didn't surprise him, not really, that you felt shame regarding your monthly cycle. A lot of women had grown up being shamed; especially if any blood was visible on their clothes. Shit, even before the War, women and young girls faced a stigma if they spoke openly about their menstrual cycles.

He despised the fact that somehow, that shit survived into the apocalypse. He hated the fact you apologized for feeling that pain your body was inflicting upon you naturally; that you felt bad for being "messy".

But what irked him most in the moment, was the fact that his touches weren't enough for you right now. Charon grunted, pressing the heel of his palm into the bulge in his pants, hissing out a sigh between his teeth.

He leaned down, gently pushing your hand to the side so he could look into your watery eyes. Mood swings were common, too. That he knew obviously. His chapped and rough lips grazed yours softly in a gentle and well-rehearsed dance.

"Relax for me. Getting upset won't help you right now, doll." He whispered sweetly to you, his eyes softening as your gazes locked.

"I--I don't know why, I..."

"Hush." He says, hastily undoing his armor and jacket, lazily draping them over the back of the couch; reaching behind him to pull off his thin gray shirt over his head, revealing the twisted, marred, and damaged tissue of his body to you.

Many people were disgusted by ghouls, finding their skin (or lack thereof, in some cases) gross and unappealing. While yes, there were the scant few who found them attractive; both sexually and in general... The vast majority were uncomfortable with the prospect of having sex with one.

Your eyelashes flutter as you blink, swallowing hard; your tongue felt like all moisture in your mouth was absorbed, the muscle swollen so much that you couldn't find anymore saliva to moisten it. He had an amazingly built body. Not an inch of fat on him (but then again, very few even had fat anymore, given how scarce food could be from time to time) Charon was a solid wall of muscle and scars from past battles; both physically and mentally.

And he knew you loved every bit of him. Maybe you were naive, maybe you had just been lonely at first... but he was well aware of how intensely your attraction and affection burned for him.

His fingers slipped his belt loose, the buckle tinkling as the worn leather slipped free; before unbuttoning his jeans.

Charon looked into your eyes, his cock throbbing at the way you bit your lip, your soft eyes staring with heated want at the bulge that was so prominent in his confining clothes. But, as before, the look of doubt flickered in that little flame within you; shame.

He couldn't help but feel a small sense of smug pride, smirking down at you. "I know you might not want to do this... But--" Charon sighed as he freed his cock, holding the fat length of it in a tight grip.

As scarred as the rest of him, the sheer size and texture promised a head-spinningly good time.

"Let me help you." His other hand pinched your chin between thick fingers, making you look up at him and match his eyes. "Please."

Your heart squeezed in your chest. He was asking you, making sure above all else that this was what you wanted.

And... you did. Nodding as another new cramp slipped through your abdomen, you cringed a little. "Please..." You repeat back to him.

Charon nodded, pulling the rest of your suit off and tossing it to the floor, his thumbs hooking your bloody underwear down your legs, the coppery scent hitting his lack-of nose as he carefully set them aside. He kicked off his boots and pants before caging you against the couch once again, looking briefly at the slick of crimson that shone on your smooth thighs, the short hairs on your sex sticky with it.

He gave you another kiss, this one more heated than the last, your tongues twining and dancing as he aggressively fought to seek dominance over yours. He won, of course, you were helpless against him.

"Take deep breaths." He muttered against your lips, reaching down between you to notch his gnarled tip at your entrance.

You let out a shaky puff of air, before sucking in a tight lungfull as he pushed in, the stretch of his cock absolutely filling and oh, so pleasant. Your heels dig in to the muscles of his glutes, your nails biting into his pitted skin as he slid inch by torturous inch into your tight, clenching walls.

Charon tossed his head back with a groan, "Fuck. You need to relax as much as you can, doll... You're fucking tight."

You nod frantically, whimpering as you try to force your muscles to ease up their vice-grip on his shaft, mouth hanging open in hungry pants of air as he slowly withdraws, his cock painted a macabre red before thrusting back in.

It hurt, not just from the cramps you were feeling, but from the fact that Charon was going so slow, so gentle with you. You understood his concerns, yes, but... fuck. Your body screamed, your ovaries practically beat against your womb to just have him fuck you relentless, to pump you full of seed that would never take root.

You wheezed as his hips arch and press down against yours, rubbing your walls in a painfully erotic way, "Harder."

He stilled, then, bracing himself on his elbows to look at you, his scruffy scraps of hair hanging down like tattered curtains as your eyes locked once again. "You're sure?"

"Yes." You sob softly. "Fuck--yes. I--I need you to... to just..."

He growled, his mouth twisting into a snarl as he pushed up on the couch, leaning back as his hands reached around you, hoisting you up by your ass so his cock could angle blissfully within your cunt, wordlessly following your plea before settling into a bruising pace, rutting into you like a man possessed.

Your soft breasts bounced as he grunted, his cock stretching and fucking you so utterly it almost knocked all rational thoughts free from your brain; almost knocking your brain loose as you sob, tears prickling your vision as your eyes crossed, a wanton moan wrenched free from within you in concert with the howling winds that swept the wasteland outside.

The fire crackled and popped, dying down to lame embers, darkening the room as Charon pounded your sore and twitching cunt, the lewd sound of skin slapping on skin a constant sound going off like a gunshot in your ears.

Hell, each punch of his hips felt like a gunshot to your cervix; the pain mixing in a wondrous cocktail of euphoria as you felt your orgasm flutter from deep within you.

Your walls crushed down on his cock, your blood and slick letting him slide in and out of you with no effort as you whimpered and cried with every arch and fuck of his hips.

"Ch-Charon," You hiccup, your blood rushing so loudly in your ears it nearly drowned out the lewd sounds your bodies made as Charon gripped your hips in such a way that you were sure to have bruises in your ass cheeks tomorrow. "Charon, 'm gonna--"

"Do it." He groaned, his head hanging back and his mouth open in wet, hot pants; eyes screwed shut. "Cum for me, doll."

You arch your back, your nails digging into the frail fabric of the couch cushions, tearing the seams almost audibly as your climax rippled through your, your womb clenching finally in a way that blacked out your mind with not pain, but pleasure.

Blinding, searing, burning pleasure as your body turned to jelly in Charon's hands, letting him manhandle you through your final ebbs of nirvana as your pussy clenched around him.

He slowed his thrusts languidly, slowly easing you down onto the couch once again. Your blood would surely stain your bedding... But right now you couldn't care less; finally, blissful oblivion was granted to your cramps. Pain completely dissolved, you sighed in content as you heavy lids drew open to look up at him.

Charon let out a heavy sigh, his hand gripping your thigh softly, squeezing the fat there affectionately. "Feel better?"

"Yeah..." You sigh again, happily, your hands sliding up his shoulders to rest on the back of his neck.

But... some part of you roared to life, awareness spreading through your sex almost instincively.

"I... You didn't--"

Charon smirks at you, once again, the promise on his lips making your pussy flutter around him.

"This can last up to a week." He jerked his head towards the door he barricaded shut against the storm raging outside.

He snapped his hips into yours, grinding his cock head against your deepest reaches.

"So can this. I have plenty of time to get off. Right now... we're focusing on you."

You whimper as his teeth nip at your ear; "...And I think I feel you cramping again."

[jenniferjareauwife]

Right Here With You

pairing: carina deluca x fem reader

category: hurt/comfort

warnings: depression

word count: 780

summary: you're having a bad day and can't get out of bed so carina comforts you, reassuring you she's there for you

translations: bambina-baby girl, bella-beautiful, mia amata-my love, tesoro-darling, ti amo di più-i love you more

I woke up with an overwhelming weight on my chest. I felt like I couldn't move. "Bambina! You're gonna be late!" I heard my beautiful girlfriend call from the kitchen. I didn't respond, I didn't have the energy, it didn't feel physically possible. "Hey." She barged into the bedroom. "Bella? What's wrong?" Again, I didn't answer. "Hey." Her voice immediately softened once she relished what was going on. "I'm gonna call in sick for you, ok?" She sat down next to me and I just gave her a small nod.

Ten minutes later she was back on the bed, her hand on my shoulder as her thumb softly caressed it. "You ok?"

"Mm."

"So no." She rubbed her hand up and down my arm. "Bambina...what do you need right now?"

"You." I couldn't say anything else, it was too much.

"What do you need from me?" I tensed up, it was too much. It was too much thinking. I couldn't do it right now I just needed her, anything. "It's ok." She moved her hand slowly until it was resting in mine, she laced our fingers together. "I'm gonna hold you." She kissed my temple.

"Hm." I hummed, wanting to tell her how I'm feeling but not being able to get the words out.

"Shh. It's alright bella, I've got you now." My body shook with a silent sob. "I've got you. Let it all out."

"I don't...I can't." I sobbed.

"Shh." She kissed my shoulder gently, rubbing my hand with her thumb. "Just let it out now, yeah? You can talk later." I nodded, squeezing her hand as tight as I could, feeling the hot tears flow down my face.

Ten minutes later I had stopped crying and I had turned around in her arms so that my face could be buried in her chest. "Ready to talk about it now?"

"Mhm."

"What's wrong mia amata?"

"Felt...my chest was heavy." I sniffled, snuggling into her more.

"Anxiety?" I shook my head.

"Just sad."

"Ah. I get it." She brought her hand to the back of my head, gently massaging my scalp to calm me down.

"I can't...don't feel like I can do anything today, you know? I don't feel good...don't feel good at all and I just need..."

"Comfort?"

"Mhm."

"Well I can give you that bella."

"I don't understand how you do it."

"Do what?"

"You're so strong. I almost never see you cry. It's like...you cry once a month." I sniffled again. "And you're always able to get out of bed."

"Well we all handle things differently. I definitely cry more than once a month. Probably around 4 times."

"Oh."

"It's ok to have days where you just need to stay in bed bambina. There's nothing wrong with that."

"The world can't stop just because I'm depressed." I could feel her heart sink against my body.

"Anyone who expects you to be functioning at 100% all the time-"

"Carina."

"What is it mia amata?"

"I don't know...I don't think I can feel like this all the time."

"You don't have to."

"But it's been going on so long- I can't do it anymore I don't think I can do it anymore Carina."

"Bambina? Can you take a deep breath for me?" She waited for me to breathe. "That's good. Now listen to me. This isn't going to last forever. You're not going to feel like this forever."

"But what if it does."

"It won't. I promise you."

"How can you promise that?" She sighed.

"Y/n...bella your happiness didn't last forever, correct? So how can you expect this to? Nothing lasts forever. I know it seems longer because it's not enjoyable but it won't be like this all the time." I clutched the back of her shirt, wanting her closer. "I promise you bambina."

"But I'm tired of it."

"I know." She went back to stroking my hair and rubbing my back in circles, knowing how much it soothed me. "But I'll be here with you every step of the way."

"You will?"

"Of course I will tesoro. You're my love. Why would I abandon you when you're feeling like this?" I shrugged and tilted my head up so she could give me a forehead kiss.

"I don't want to drag you down." I mumbled.

"You're not going to."

"But-"

"No more 'buts' bambina. I want to help you, I need you to realize that, ok? I'm not going to leave you, I'm going to be right here with you every step of the way." I nodded, holding her tighter.

"Just don't let go of me, ok?"

"I won't. I promise."

"I love you."

"Ti amo di più."

[constantinerkives]

The Player's Gambit // teaser, (M)

PAIRING: Giselle x Fem! Reader WARNINGS: Mean Gigi, playgirl Gigi, GP Aeri, strangers to lovers, pining, idiots to lover's trope, college AU, profanity, biker Aeri, and smut. More warnings to come! SYNOPSIS: She surrenders herself to you. It's a lover's sensual confession, a promise in which Giselle shows you that her fixation will never end; so is her commitment to you.

Umber eyes meet Tawny.

Giselle's pink, plump lips curl to a wolfish smirk. "Is this seat taken?"

Leave. Now. 

"Actually," You sputter as you rush to gather your things, "You can have the table. I'm done anyway-"

"No, you're not," She cuts you off with a distant smile and pulls the chair while you gawk at her. "And don't even think of making an excuse, pretty girl." Giselle sneers, "We need to talk." 

Against your wishes, your cheeks dust pink while bile forms in your throat, "About what?"

The older girl raises her arm and rests her elbow atop the tabletop while the side of her face rests against her palm as she studies your face before adding:

"I think you know that, gorgeous."

You swallow and lean back with your arms crossed, and your face sports a frown, "I have a name, you know." 

Giselle quirks a brow, "Let's hear it, then?"

Shit

"Or should I call you all the endearments I can give? For example," The brunette leans close. "Flore mio, or even better: mia amata." 

"That sounds-"

"Great, doesn't it?" She grins. You scowl at her while she continues, "I'll settle for mia amata. It translates to 'my love', in Italian. Awesome, don't you think?"

You pause before speaking, "Is this about your jacket? I can pay you-"

"No, you can't." Your eye twitches. Oh?

"And why's that?"

Her grin turns vicious, "Do you know where I bought that biker jacket, mia amata?"

She takes your silence for no. You don't know.

"I bought it for Loius Vui. Specifically, their American Branch last week, and the day you spilled coffee on me was the first day I wore it." She knots her fingers together, "So tell me, how will you get the money to clean my beloved jacket?"

Your jaw locks and your voice lowers. "No, I don't know where to get that kind of money for your jacket." 

The latter inclines her head to the side, "I know. So how about you repay me with something that holds no monetary value?"

Your nerves thrum, "And what's that?"

"It's a secret," Your eyes narrowed at her answer. "For now, I'll be in touch, yeah?"

Silence awaited her reply. But instead of snarking at your disposition toward her, she smiles warmly at you. 

Startled, you blink at her as she stands up, gets her bag, and leans close to your face without preamble. You freeze at her proximity as she drops her voice an octave lower. 

"I know you won't tell me your name, chérie. Don't worry, I'll find out one of these days. For now, I'll settle for nicknames." Without wasting another second, she leans away and leaves, hips swaying as she disappears from the sea of students. 

COMING SOON!

[simplegenius042]

"What Archetypes Are Your OCs?" Quiz, Top Four Fictional Crushes and The Worst Ship Chart Ever

Tagged by @shellibisshe @inafieldofdaisies @josephseedismyfather @voidika and @imogenkol

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @adelaidedrubman @icecutioner @strangefable @strafethesesinners @josephslittledeputy @rhettsabbott @carlosoliveiraa @cassietrn @g0dspeeed @turbo-virgins @aceghosts @afarcryfrommymain @derelictheretic @deputy-morgan-malone @wrathfulrook @softtidesworld @shallow-gravy @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @vampireninjabunnies-blog @cloudofbutterflies92 @florbelles @sleepyconfusedpotato @titiagls @minilev @skoll-sun-eater @thewanderer-000 and @lulu2992 (for Top Four Fictional crushes, but you can join with the other tags if you want).

Three results for OC archetypes, a listing of four of my fictional crushes (oh fuck-) and two worst ship charts ever. You can find the quiz here. You can find these and the template for the chart below.

Three results for Archetypes for OCs from The UnTitledverse, The Silver Chronicles and A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore.

ALFRED "JEFF" HOPPER (THE UNTITLEDVERSE)

I don't this is necessarily correct. Throughout the first two sagas (The Pefect Storm and The Omniscient Rule sagas), Jeff has been nothing more than a supporting and often times tertiary protagonist. Maybe not a main but definitely important. He has moments of selfishness, sure, but that's not often. The only really selfish "messed shit up for everyone" moment was when he took the opportunity to change course of events which worsened the space-time continuum while he had been helping the Time Guard chase after a time-travelling mass serial killer fugitive who had been making Time unstable in the first place, which wasn't even out of malicious intent, rather he just wanted his bestest friend back from non-existence, that being Lena Elliot. So yeah, he screwed up, but not to a villainous extent.

ALEXANDER KHAOS (THE SILVER CHRONICLES)

Oh god another villain result. Which... is more accurate for Alexander than it is for Jeff. He's more of an antagonist to Silva, that's for sure (being the right-hand man and Chosen Extraordinaire, which is basically Jacob's top elite Chosen, of Jacob Seed). He has unresolved trauma in regards to his time in Wellington Wells and has embraced his role in Hope County in Eden's Gate, though if a stronger or more ideological compatible person came around, he'd take his loyalists (which includes Hannah McCalkin) and leave Jacob behind.

ALPH DOLEN (A RADIOACTIVE CALAMITY OF LOVE, BOMBS & GORE)

Link to Minecraft Poem for anyone interested. Oh good, I worried it wasn't going to be different. And OH WOW! Alph got read to filth here. Kind of ironic that he craves love and wants to be surrounded by love but is the "Lone Wanderer". Doubly ironic when he's ghoulified... something that should be where he is rejected by everyone and everything, but ends up with more than he could ever ask for, especially with Ress and Amata... until Arcane Urias ruins everything, as he does.

Here's the list of my top four fictional crushes:

Maki Zen'in - Jujutsu Kaisen (Specifically post-Shibuya Arc)

(I want to be lifted up and carried bridal-style in her arms)

2. Soundwave - Transformers Prime (when I was young and both completely blind without glasses I didn't know I required and literacy blind to whatever I was watching, I thought this Soundwave (the only one I had been introduced to at the time) was female... he's still pretty aesthetically pleasing though, cool AF, and a caring parent to Laserbeak so...)

3. Faith Seed - Far Cry 5 (daydreaming-about-frollicking-in-green-flower-fields-and-living-in-cozy-cottages lesbians UNITE!)

(however fair warning she might get you high enough to talk to God and try to convince you to join her older adoptive brother's cult)

4. GLaDOS - Portal

(...her soothing condescending voice that belittles and tries to get you killed and her smooth + robust curves in her awesome design enchant me...)

Honourable Mention goes to (look'em up):

5. Sea Empress - Subnautica

Two of the worst ship charts for The Silver Chronicles and Life, Despair & Monsters.

Translation for the unreadable:

What draws them together? Initially the mystery surrounding each other as no one except a very specific few know much about their former lives, and their opposing factions forces them to interact a lot, and thanks to the Bliss, that's what they mostly end up doing. Plus they mostly fit each others preferences.

What stands in the way? They are at war in two opposing factions, one that wants to kill/detain (Resistance) and the other that will kill but will try to indoctrinate Silva (Eden's Gate). Opposing morality, beliefs and trust issues also get in the way.

What are their good traits? Silva and Faith find companionship with another due to their similar past/current circumstances, and Silva's compassion and unexpected kindness is bizarre and appealing to Faith, as her cunning and passions are appealing to Silva. Both are willing to sabotage their own factions to keep the other around a bit longer, plus their determination to find a peaceful resolution.

What makes them hopeless at romance? Trust, or lack there of. Silva is weary that Faith will report anything she says to Joseph to better get her into Eden's Gate, while Faith is weary that Silva is trying to get close to manipulate her into coming out into the open to better take her down. Both are correct in the beginning but later down the line it gets muddied. Silva also refuses to speak of her past (understandable) except for the vaguest of truths while Faith doesn't fully open herself up in fear of being scorned. Not to mention it's been a long while since Silva had been in a romantic relationship and Faith is very inexperienced.

Describe them with one trope: Toxic Toxic "I can fix her" & "I can make her worse/better" Enemies-To-Lovers Yuri.

Translation for the unreadable (Also note that when Jennifer is talking about her partner, it's mostly complaining about Sonya, and Sonya's image is more a reference to what I closely envision her as):

What draws them together? They both fail to kill each other and have a bone to pick with both Dicko and Sir Enigma Malvolio and they're also considered "non-human" now.

What stands in their way? Sonya is unstable to the point she's agitated enough to kill others on instinct which Jennifer is trying to control much to Sonya's distaste. There's also the fact Sonya is like a 12-foot something mecha-beastie which she doesn't think Jennifer finds attractive. Jennifer is in denial of her feelings and believes if she loses control of Sonya then it will be right back to square-one like it was with Dicko or she'd die, either one.

What are their good traits? They both have a common interest revenge against Dicko (successful) and Malvolio (work-in-progress), and Sonya acts as Jennifer's trump card and intimidation factor in their illegal business. Both also have an appreciation for their brutal honesty and openness with one another and relatability (with Jennifer as a synthetic human and Sonya's brain transferred to a mecha-beastie). They have no problems committing murder together.

What makes them hopeless at romance? Jennifer is used to being treated as an object of lust and since her freedom from Dicko and take over of his business has pushed to be in control of everything (including Sonya) and is trying to ensure she doesn't lose that control and denying all romantic/sexual feelings, while Sonya is a victim of Malvolio and his treatment of her has left a lot of psychological scars where she dehumanizes herself and does everything in her power to prove it correct too.

Describe them with one trope: Toxic "I can make you so-so-so worse baby" bloody murder Yuri situationship/partnership on a mission of revenge with a pinch of monsterfucking and goes from "I want to kill you" to "I'd kill for you" pipeline.

Template below:

[whats-amata-you]

Okay, I want to say upfront that I’m already against “AI” as it’s currently being shoved down everyone’s throat and used overall just on the basis that it’s theft. We all agree that that shit is bad just on the basics of “stealing is bad.”

But can someone more educated on the subject than me please like. ELI5 how/why it’s “burning water” to use these things? Please know I have like a high school understanding of the water cycle… like to my understanding once water is used you can just boil it and it goes right back to being completely fine? Is this somehow just causing a lot of water to get stuck in the atmosphere or something?

Genuinely I’m just seeking a better understanding of this thing I see getting mentioned in passing in this discourse, so. Please be kind but I’d love more information.

[leaskisses444]

taglist!

#love life of a teen girl (posts in which i talk about looove)

#balkanposting (anything related to balkan & yugoslavia)

#cedevita my beloved (posts about cedevita)

#arctic monkeys (self explainatory)

#lea screams lyrics!! (self explainatory)

#shitposting (yeah, shitposts)

#leas celebration (tag where you can find all of my cellys)

#d <3 (tag about my crush (?) idk not really anymore lol)

#drummer boy? <3 (about a drummer i like )

#atlas <3 (@literatureisdying )

#ara <3 (@idontwanttobeabuzzkill )

#aylin <3 (@aylin-hijabi )

#ana <3 (@kraalj )

#alex <3 (@kosmicfeelings )

#ari <3 (@waitingforthesunrise )

#allison <3 (@positiveinfluencesstuff )

#april <3 (@rachellelizabethdares )

#baboland <3 (@baboland )

#bhaavya <3 (@never-enough-novels )

#cinnamon <3 (@cinnamon-notes )

#clotpole <3 (@imaclotpole121 )

#emma <3 (@urbanflorals )

#ethan <3 (@g0reinmyhead )

#fishy <3 (@fish-ofishial123 )

#finn <3 (@dobry-slimak )

#ghosts station <3 (@ghosts-station )

#ica <3 (@losticaruss )

#jacky <3 (@jackys-stuff-blog )

#jupiter <3 (@sleepinginmygrave )

#juno <3 (@astraeasparrow )

#ky <3 (@uglyduckling339 )

#kris <3 (@skeelly )

#king of dandelions <3 (@kingofdandelions )

#lime <3 (@limeleviathan )

#lola <3 (@nerdy-girl3791 )

#maisie <3 (@adolescence-sucks )

#mare <3 (@moonlightt444 )

#my silly silly <3 (@amata-mybeloved )

#my other half <3 (@evermqres )

#nads <3 (@nqds )

#nova <3 (@that-multi-fandom-hijabi )

#nash <3 (@heartstopperlarrie )

#nicky <3 (@mqstermindswift )

#pineapple <3 (@owocontroversy )

#ry <3 (@therearenonamesthatarenttaken )

#stella <3 (@glassdandelion )

#simon <3 (@80s-reject )

#sophie <3 (@sophiesonlinediary )

#tea <3 (@holdmyteaplease )

#tessinator <3 (@demigoddess-of-ghosts )

#vi <3 (@bearrbug )

#venus <3 (@venusonmercury )

[valkyyriia]

A Brief Respite

Words: 464

CW: Fluff | SFW

Pairing: Leonardo da Vinci / OC

Note: I've been having brainrot with this OC and Leonardo and I wanted to write some fluff. I apologize in advance if Leonardo's OOC.

I've also been talking myself in and out of posting this for an hour now. So I'm gonna just do it and hide for awhile.

Not posted on other sites at this time.

“Draculina,” a voice murmured. She felt fingertips glide against her cheek and a gentle squeeze at her hip. Grumbling, she pushed her face further into the warm pillow she was resting on. 

A chuckle reverberated through her “pillow”, and she felt the touch against her cheek once more. “Mia amata, we can’t stay here all day,” they continued. “However much I would like to.” 

“Five more minutes,” she mumbled.

“Now that’s a change of tune,” he said, amused. “It’s already been two hours, Cara Mia.” Leonardo’s lips brushed against her brow. “I would let you sleep longer if I could, but then you would be even angrier at me than you’re already going to be once you’re awake.” His lips ghosted over both of her eyelids. “Let me see those gorgeous eyes, mia amata.” 

- Two Hours Earlier - 

“Leo, we can’t take a nap here,” Alessandra complained. Her partner had decided this hallway was as good a place as any for a quick pick-me-up, and promptly flopped down against a wall, dragging her down with him.

“Says who?” Leonardo’s baritone voice rumbled, pulling her into his arms and settling comfortably. “I didn’t want to have to wait to have you in my arms. Surely you won’t begrudge me fifteen minutes of your time, Mio Sole?” He nuzzled her hair. “I won’t even fall asleep myself, if that eases your mind,” he offered. Leonardo was only telling half the truth; he was always happy to hold her, that was true, but he left out his underlying motive. His Draculina had been dealing with a lot of stress and part of it was his fault, and she hadn’t been sleeping well as a result. It hurt his heart to see her so clearly distressed, so he decided to take matters into his own hands.

Alessandra sighed heavily. Leonardo smiled coyly and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, knowing he had just won. “Fifteen minutes, Dormiglione,” Alessandra relented, resting her head in the crook of his neck. “No more. We have things to do today.” 

“Fifteen minutes,” he agreed easily, stroking her cheek and running a thumb along her waist soothingly. “Now relax. You need it, bambina.” 

- Present - 

Begrudgingly, Alessandra’s eyes drifted open. She pulled away slightly to look at him. 

“There’s my beautiful girl,” Leonardo cooed, tapping her nose. “How are you feeling?” He brushed a stray hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear.

“Better,” she yawned. Alessandra blinked and smiled back at him. “But I thought you said fifteen minutes?” 

“I did, but you were sleeping too peacefully for me to wake.” He leaned forward and kissed her softly. “You needed the rest.”

“Thank you,” Alessandra murmured, kissing his cheek.

“You’re welcome,” Leonardo replied with a smile. “Now, let’s get to it, yeah?” 

Taglist: @natimiles @inkys-garden

Let me know if you want to be added!

Dividers by @/natimiles

[simvanie]

Luxor Amata for Scarlett's love is embarrassing BC

Guess who is back (in an alternate timeline)? I totally forgot about the existence of bachelor challenges when I was playing with Luxor for the lust generation of my legacy, until he was old and already fully committed to his wife. I think doing a bachelor challenge with Luxor would have been really fun, but doing one myself with him now, even in an alternate timeline, wouldn't make sense for me since Luxor has already established his story and lore in my sims universe. So, when I saw @theosconfessions post for Scarlett's Love is Embarrassing BC I got this idea where Luxor can still participate in a BC in some way and let others have fun with him. I thought, what if I make an updated version of Luxor set in an alternate timeline where he hasn't met the love of his life yet and so it's entirely possible that he ends up with Scarlett? So, I gave Luxor a makeover and pitched this idea to Stacey (theosconfessions) and luckily she liked it!

Info about Luxor under the cut:

"Blondes have more fun, right?" That is what Luxor heard some of his co-stars say on the set of the upcoming series where he plays a role in. When he asked what they were talking about, they showed him Scarlett's bachelorette challenge call. Luxor's heart skipped a beat and suddenly it felt like his brain wasn't getting enough oxygen anymore. For a while now, Luxor really wants to find someone to grow old with and thinks that Scarlett might be the one. Luxor has had his fair share of official (and unofficial) relationships in the past and it's safe to say that this heartthrob already has a lot of experience in the dating field. One might attribute his need for love and affection to his childhood, in which his single mother, who tried to keep her head above water as a criminal, was often angry at him and didn't give him much attention until he was a little older. But don't get me wrong, Luxor is 100% capable of being fully committed when he finds the right person. He is charismatic, has a good heart and doesn't actually want to cause anyone heartbreak. Although his noncommittal trait caused him sometimes to suddenly jump from one relationship into the other or have multiple at once (and this 'multiple at once' can also be applied to a couple of in the bedroom activities he has had), he feels that it is finally time to settle down and find someone to build a future with. Luxor is currently a B-lister celebrity with a love for stand-up comedy and playing the guitar. He is romantically more interested in women but open to explore romantically, and has had woohoo experience with both men and women. His PR agency told him that it would be better for his public celebrity image to keep that last one under wraps for now. The life in the spotlight can sometimes be a bit hectic, and Luxor hopes that he can find in Scarlett someone to come home to, cuddle on the couch with, tell his new jokes to, go on dates with, play guitar for, have romantic dinners with, go on advetures with, visit the petting zoo with (he absolutely loves the little goats), make memories with, and to show him if it's true when they say that blondes have more fun (whatever fun for them may mean *wink wink*). And what better place to meet Scarlett than one of Luxor's favorite vacation locations, Tartosa!

Pronouns: He/him

Age: He's already nearing the end of his young adult years, but Luxor never minded an age gap in relationships and hopes Scarlett feels the same about it

Sexuality: Bisexual (currently closeted for the public image, but close friends and family know)

Traits: Noncommittal, outgoing, music lover (Luxor originally had the romantic trait here, but it's changed to music lover to make it more fair regarding the other contestants)

Career: Actor

Hometown: Del Sol Valley

I hope you like him! Can't wait to see how the drama, ✨the spice✨, and everything else unfolds in Scarlett's bachelorette challenge.

[fandomnerd9602]

I was excited that you already wrote for Asha from Wish! I'd love to see something for Queen Amaya as well, where Y/N is a visiting King from another kingdom who comes to Rosas on a diplomatic visit and proceeds to sweep the Queen off her feet.

She hadn’t expected to fall in love, not so quickly either. Queen Amaya had found herself so busy with reestablishing friendly relations with nearby kingdoms that she felt that love was something so childish, something a queen like her would never be allowed to experience once again.

And then she met you. You were called the Warrior King. It wasn’t that you were brutal or anything, you were just willing to fight for your people. In fact, you would rather solve problems diplomatically. And right now, the biggest problem you were facing was the sudden letter you received from the queen of Rosas.

The kingdom was mysterious, tending to stick to themselves. And yet here they were: asking to meet. So you set off and arrived at their shores. No real fanfare, you weren’t a fan of it.

The guards led you right to the throne room.

“Presenting King (Y/N) of (K/N)” the guard announced. You didn’t really hear him, your full attention was on the gentle queen sitting on the throne. Her beauty entranced you. Her kindness, the way she carried herself. For the first time in a long while, you felt your knees quiver. And yet in it, you found some strength to talk to her.

“Thank you for the invite, Queen Amaya” you smiled at her.

“Of course” the queen could feel her own heart fluttering at the sight of you, “I was simply wishing to establish friendly relations between our two kingdoms”

“How friendly are we talking about?” you found yourself flirting with her. Your little question made the queen blush.

“You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” she smiles

“Time is limited and I’d rather not waste a moment” you stated with a little smirk.

“Perhaps you’d miss to join me out on the balcony?” Queen Amaya rises from her throne and glides over to the balcony, gesturing for you to join her out there. You didn’t hesitate to follow. You find her gazing out over the kingdom.

“Your majesty” you try to say

“Please when it’s just us, could you call me Amaya?” she gazes at you with gentle eyes

“Of course, only if you could call me Y/N” you answer back. Your hand touches hers.

“I love my kingdom. I just want it to be safe.”

“My sword” you pledge, “will always be there to guard you and your kingdom. My land is only a small boat rise away really”

“Perhaps you can come and visit more often then?” she giggles as you take her hand and kiss it.

“I shall” you smile back.

With time, your visits became more frequent. Little holiday visits here and little stolen days there. Eventually, your two kingdoms were joined in yours and hers marriage. The land entered a wonderful time of prosperity. And you and Amata fell deeper in love.

Little did you know that your own little wish came true a little while later when your queen gave birth to your own little prince and princess. And with it, Amaya’s wish came true too: she finally had people who truly loved her.

[libertybri]

Request for best friend!Fo3 npcs finding out/watching as a normally calm, cold, logical Lone, after seeing their dad for the first time since he left them, punches him in the face and berates him for leaving them with no information, no way to know if he's okay, no idea what he's doing or if he's ever coming back. Them saying "You were my only family, now I'm not even sure if you loved me at all" and generally being angry and hurt by him. Could you also include how their dad would react?

Lone’s hard fist connects with the jaw of their own father. James looks up to his kid bewildered, “Lone,–“

“I get to talk, not you.” Lone sharply cuts him off, “You have made my life hell for the past few weeks and you don’t seem to have any remorse for it. I have been shot at, beaten, stabbed, targeted, and made a war weapon for a faction that shows little-to-no care for me at all, and all to find you here for some mission bigger than yourself. You left me behind to suffer through all of that while still needing my help in the end. You were my only family, and now I’m not sure if you even loved me at all.”

James remains quiet as Lone removes their intense focus away from him and diverts their gaze to the ground.

Amata:

“I used to look up to you, James. You’ve made a real mess in your path and you have a lot of work to do to make up for it.” She tells him after Lone finishes their rant. Amata shakes her head shamefully at James, who takes in her words like knives.

“I didn’t mean to hurt either of you, believe me.” He pleads.

Amata heard enough of the older man merely pushing out excuses for his flight personality causing a whirlwind of trouble for Lone. Her friend who is usually cold as ice showing that much emotion sent her into protective mode. She turns to Lone and softly says, “You don’t have to follow in his footsteps, you know?”

“It’s for the betterment of–“

“Yeah, I know, but you’ve been a hero to everyone since the first day you walked out of the vault. He’s been trying for over 20 years. I think you’re warranted a little time for yourself.” She tells her friend with a gentle smile. Lone nods and follows their friend to the exit, not saying another word to their dad.

Butch:

“I think we outta hit the road, Nosebleed.” Though Butch rarely uses that nickname with his best friend anymore, he figured it would divert their attention away from their dad and onto him. He didn’t like the way James threw this onto them and expected Lone to carry out his chosen mission without a choice for them. It also deeply upset him to see his usual calm and collected friend become so emotional over the matter. Most of all it angered him that James wasn’t speaking up. With a huff, he tells his friend, “We got better things to do that don’t involve us riskin’ our lives for a bunch of people who could care less about us.”

Lone thinks for a long moment and nods, “You’re right. Let’s go.” Butch excitedly guides them to the exit, as he was pleased he didn’t have to convince them any further. As they leave, Butch looks back at James with a deep glare.

Charon:

Charon remains silent, allowing Lone to make their own choice in the matter. Though they were experiencing a lot of emotions right now, he knew that Lone would still think clearly with logic and make the right decision. “I need time.” Lone finally decides, telling their father and looking to Charon for guidance.

He nods, “Let’s go then.” Without another word, Charon leads them to the exit.

Clover:

“C’mon, sweetie. We don’t have to stay here for this.” Clover pleads with Lone and diverts her gaze at James with a look of disgust. “And you need to man up! Get your job done without dragging your teen kid into it.”

“Clover–“

“She’s right. You shouldn’t be here. This job is dangerous and it’s been my destiny since before you were born, not yours. I should have told you, at the very least so you knew what you were getting yourself into.” James agrees with Clover and tells Lone honestly.

“Then you better hope you’re able to get it done yourself, because I’m already dragged into it.” Lone tells him sharply and nods to Clover as signal for them to leave. Clover rests a comforting hand on their back as they leave.

Gob:

Gob allows Lone to process their emotions and make their own decision on the matter. He would support them with whatever decision they made as their judgement was rarely ever wrong. One day he imagined they could both fill the void of family to each other, but he understands Lone’s frustration, as that was their only source of paternal love for years and it all diminished within weeks.

“We can take a break from saving everybody else. Let’s go hangout at the Underworld.” Lone says nonchalantly, spinning on their heel and walking towards the exit.

Gob follows wordlessly, having no say in the matter. He doesn’t give a single glance back at James. If he wasn’t important to Lone at the moment, he didn’t matter to Gob.

Jericho:

“I told you all this bullshit was a waste of time. We could be out knockin’ skulls and making caps right now. Helluva bounty waiting for us back in Megaton.” Jericho could care less about helping them save the Wasteland. He saw it for what it was: Trash.

“I had to see for myself.” Lone sneers at him, “Whatever though, I’ll give you this one. For once you were right.”

“Lone, please my child don’t tell me you have fallen into the life of raiding?” James pleads, all but questioning where he went wrong in abandoning Lone and causing them to go this route.

“Don’t act like you care now. I’ll decide when I’m ready to help you. So far all you’ve done is waste my time.” Lone finalized the conversation and lead the way for themself and Jericho on their next adventure.

Sarah Lyons:

“Lone, if I may,” Sarah speaks up, “With great interest of the Brotherhood, this is the right decision to make. You must support your father despite the personal business.” It hurts her to go against her friend’s better judgment, but she had a duty to adhere to and Lone also made that commitment alongside her.

Lone nods wordlessly.

“I do still love you with all my heart, dear Lone. That will never change. This mission is beyond us, but working together I know we can change everyone’s world for the better.” James tells them, “Afterwards, I will do everything in my power to make up for the hurt I’ve caused you.” He’s sincere in his words, tearing up as he speaks to his child.

“You’re very lucky to be their parent.” Sarah reminds him, doing her best to support her friend while keeping them in line of the mission. She nods to them and they give her a half-smile in return.