#sanctamater

"It pleases."

The affirmation - spoken like evening prayer at the Chantry - comes without hesitation. Elation comes forth from the Knight-Commander, otherwise situated and chained to the confines of her office, her desk for the days to come. It is a welcome reprieve, even if it is forced to be hidden away from the eavesdropping ears and prying eyes of her mortal enemy the First Enchanter across the hall. She is certain she will receive a hard, accusatory stare by day's end; and she does not care.

Amelia's touch - navigating the layers of armour, leather, and fabric alike - find her pulse point between sleeve, gauntlet, and glove; she watches on, as slim, delicate fingers trace her bare skin. It is enough to send a shiver along the length of her arm, resonating beneath heavy plate to her core. Instinctually, after a moment, her hand reaches for Amelia's, lifting it just so slowly to her own lips, ghosting a kiss across each of her knuckles -- a romantic gesture, one of novels and fiction, but one she partakes because of inner desire -- yet another way to touch, to feel, and... perhaps, to love.

"As always, my lady. I've no doubt your records are immaculate," And in truth, their arrangement between the Order and the smithy remains legitimate by the powers that be. "I will add it to my pile," Eyes flick back to her desk, but her feet remain in place. Her gloved hand still holds to Amelia's own, stroking thumb ever so lightly over fingers.

let me say nice things about you. ♡

small sample size of me yapping about u to al @jimseung and katy @queenrumi to start this off strong

AND LO AND BEHOLD. THIS GEM.

claire.

i loooooooove you.

updated 2025 yaps under the cut cuz this is already so long cuz of pictures lmao.

ɢᴏᴏᴏᴏᴏᴏᴅ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ, ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴄɪᴛʏ !!! ᴛᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴡᴇ ʜᴀᴠᴇ, 4-6 am on a winter morning

...This is closest he will come to tasting the soft down of virtual snow melting into busted chrome and feverish skin slick with grime of today's melting point. CLOUDY, WITH A FORECAST OF HEAVY SNOW !! It's a slew of anarchic grit and corporate slog backlit with the corporate monoliths built taller than the weather, shining LED RGB and we're the fucking school of fish they feed pixels of tonight's virtual snow. It's pretty, he thinks, if there wasn't the glaring fact of man - made, eddie backed, corporate sanctioned gods waiting on its pound of flesh's amusement; it's 4AM on a winter morning, but there hasn't been snow in Night City in a long time.

" Met you on a night like this, " southern boy soused in charm of a by-gone era, but he was tonight's main fucking act, the jostling of diehard audience screaming back at him with as much as he had given; all of him, always, martyrdom gnashing canines into the metal of the microphone / CAN YOU FEEL IT? Johnny doesn't sweat any more, not when every nerve's been shot and spliced with Arasaka tech stringing him up like a soldier come a reckoning, tin man, heart of iron branded up with ownership of the very company you die for.

Something special blooms up on that stage which has him gasping down polluted NC air, inhaling CHOO2 and whatever sick pack of smokes he has on hand like he needs a hit, that kind of rush he's felt when he's on his knees; rare wooden floor, the soft plush of a rug from some exotic animal only these fucking corporates could ever have their hands on and he's on his knees by her knees, crawling crawling crawling .... Wake up, says the hand, all silver chrome stilling on the gold chrome of her jaw; polarizing attraction made of the same stuff they've lost. His finger in the wound of her.

NEURAL CHIP NOW LOADING:// where'd your voice go, angel? He'd ask one night, the shadow of her husband casting a heavy shadow in the closet of her room, tucked away like the religious dogma.

" Quieter out here with you, " he finally speaks, trailing the silver arm and hand down the length of @sanctamater's shoulder then down her arm to pluck the cigarette from between her fingers so he could breath in the smoke; the only 'ganic thing he had left coated with nicotine, smeared with her lipstick. The LED lights outline the shape of her nicely, and the fluttering virtual snowfall makes her look like a damned siren. He'll smile in spite of the thoughts that spooled into the mic, Johnny Silverhand leaning into the Militech COO with an obscene smile, smoke spilling with each word,

@sanctamater | birthday asks.

positivity meme! / accepting.

send 🌵 and i'll recommend a canon rp blog (x3)

@vsagis — how can i not recommend alex's izuku. he's become inextricably linked to my other blog's muse, to the point where they exist in each other's lore regardless of universe. if youuuuuu want to experience a version of villain izuku you've never seen before, whose ruthlessness is chilling as hell and whose deeper softness is incredibly rewarding to find underneath the unraveled thorns and grab onto. i could literally go on forever about alex's izuku so i'm going to shut myself up but trust me when i say you won't regret following. (AND WE MIGHT GET TO MEET IN PERSON NEXT YEAR IF I GET THIS JOBBBBBB IM SO EXCITED <3)

@shishitoren-vc — i've said this a million times already but jess is one of my first mutuals ever from my other blog, and i AM ride-or-die for them i'm afraid <3 their togame portrayal is so so so lovely, they bring him to life in a way that feels super authentic to the character (like i can literally hear his VA in the dialogue they write it's amazing) and the way they've expanded on his characteristics that we don't have explanations for is so well-thought out. i love to read their threads on the dash and it's always so fun to develop new plots together :D about to hurl chiaki at him alongside the dynamic we have going with geto, which is super exciting!