Tumgik
#adela
sinsmockingbird · 2 months
Note
Sumire lovers are asking for a prt 3 of the condom series with the graden members! (and maybe add adela and eleven in)
Sumire lovers will be Sumire havers. I mean- you'll be Garden havers in this case with a few additions. I love these women very much.
CW: Smut under the cut!
✧ ADELA
• Adela would be chuckling softly to herself when she sees you grab the XL sized condoms, but her face is flushing a light pink.
• Unlike a lot of the women, Adela keeps the most calm and doesn't address it. Fully, at least. She'll make a small, passing comment saying, "My, I didn't know you were that big."
• It'll make you pause and flush red as you duck your head in slight embarrassment, before watching her as she continues on shopping like she hadn't said anything.
• At home, she makes sure to take her sweet time with you. She wants the moment to be special and full of love, taking time to undress you and then herself.
✧ COQUELIC
• Coquelic is a huffing mess of embarrassment and arousal. She's red faced and slightly shaking when she realizes you grabbed the XL sized condoms. Knowing your that huge has her squeezing her thighs slightly together.
• She tries to be subtle about it, but you know her signs when she's aroused, and you can tell after sometime of shopping that she is.
• If you try to say something about it, be prepared for her to suddenly slap you, her face blooming even more red as she sputters out an excuse, before accusing you of being a pervent.
• Don't take anything she says to heart, she doesn't know how to handle the situation. But if it did bother you, make sure to make her drunk on your cock as you fuck any of her holes once you get home.
✧ GAROFANO
• Garofano can't help but laugh when she sees you grab the XL sized condoms, her past exes flashing in her head as she remembers how pathetic their cocks were.
• But know knowing what you were packing in your pants, she knows for a fact that you'll actually be able to pleasure her unlike them. She can just imagine how big you'll be spreading open her mature pussy.
• It gets her excited. It gets her... needy, something she rarely ever is. So don't mind if she's hooking your arms together as you finish shopping, pressing her breasts firmly against your arm as a silent way of telling you, "I can't wait to have you."
• Once home, Garofano will be taking the lead first, her experience coming out as she handles pleasuring you with expertise. But once you cum all over her hands, pin her to the bed and give her the best fucking she's ever had.
✧ ELEVEN
• Eleven will have a small smile tugging at her lips when she notices you placing the XL sized condoms into the basket. She'll glance between you and it for a few moments, but doesn't say anything further.
• It isn't until a little bit more into your shopping that she leans into your back, brushing her lips against your ear as she speaks so softly.
• It leaves you flustered and aroused, fidgeting with the basket as you intend to get shopping done quickly tp be able to get home soon.
✧ SUMIRE
• As soon as you are, Eleven will be voice recording the entire thing (with your permission), so she's able to listen back to the first night she took your big cock. Who knows, maybe she'll share it to her radio station.
• Poor Sumire gets so meek and timid, it's honestly surprising. The second she notices your hand even reaching for the XL sized condoms, she's shaking and can only imagine what your cock looks like.
• She's chewing her bottom lip, eyeing you as you continue shopping, acting like everything was okay. Which it was! Besides the aching pain between her legs that's just getting worse by the second.
• At some point she's tugging on your sleeve, hiding her flushed face into your shoulder as she mutters if you guys can leave early. If you question her, she'll subtly grind herself against your leg, giving you all the indication you need.
• Soon as you get home, Sumire finds a bit of her confidence again, pushing you against the bed and moving to pleasure you, wanting to get more familiar with your large cock before anything else goes further.
196 notes · View notes
eeulysian · 2 months
Note
can i plz request dating adela hcs?
⟡ . DATING ADELA HEADCANONS
summary: adela x reader and how its like to date this very beautiful blue haired S rank sinner
cw: none
a/n: i'm sorry if this is ooc and so short too! i don't have adela and i haven't played path to nowhere in a while now since hsr has been catching my attention the most lately. i hope i didn't disappoint!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
✦ she's definitely a teaser and a bully. she loves seeing your reactions, like when you get flustered or when you pout because you're angry at her. if you do end up taking her silly tactics to heart though, expect to get squeezed in by a hug as an apology
✦ adela loves pda. she likes to show you off to all the other sinners, officers and the chief by putting her arm around you, holding your hand, suddenly creeping up from behind and hug you when you're talking to other sinners or the officers
✦ and by that style of pda, you could tell she's very touchy. her top love language is physical contact. she will find every chance, and i mean EVERY. to hold you, hug you, play with your hair or squeeze your adorable face
✦ i wouldn't say she gets easily jealous. she puts all her trust in you because she knows you wouldn't do anything bad behind her back like cheating or seeing other people, so she can feel at ease. when she does get jealous tho, like someone is flirting with you and pushing your boundaries, she definitely has the capabilities of doing something shady and dark lol... so expect them to go missing the next day 🙊
✦ adela would try to get to know your preferences and interests because she wants to buy you a gift! or steal it... but that's fine, whether it's a chocolate bar or a kitten, she'll get it for you one way or another
✦ i think that adela is a cold person, like her body is physically cold, it's like she came back from fighting for her life in some snowy place. she knows that, so sometimes she would try to cuddle with you to feel your warmth. after all, you're the person that broke down the ice walls around her heart ♡
Tumblr media
© 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆 𝗲𝗲𝘂𝗹𝘆𝘀𝗶𝗮𝗻. 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗹, 𝗿𝗲𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁.
90 notes · View notes
dulcesiabits · 4 months
Text
when the fog rolls in.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: You try to piece together your scattered memories about a woman you once knew.
notes: 1.7k words, fic, author's notes, memory loss + nonlinear narrative, I just really wanted to play with form and perspective with this one!!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
There is something you have to do.
There is something you have to do, and you do not remember what.
There is a memory, like a scrap of discolored silk, that you clutch in your numb fingers.
There are many memories, like faded pieces of fabric, too light and too loose for you to hold and to collect. They fall out of your hands just as you reach for them, so you can only hold one at a time.
You have to remember.
You cannot forget.
There is something you have to do, and you’re running out of time.
A woman runs light, gentle fingers through your hair, combing the unruly strands. She’s humming an Eastside lullaby that pools in your heart and all its crevices.
Your head is in her lap, and you snuggle against her like a cat. Her touch makes you melt boneless into her arms. 
You love her, you think. You have loved her for a long time. You love her gentle fingers and her soft voice and the way she looks at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.
“Awake already?” she asks. Sharp sunlight cuts across her face, obscuring her features from you. “You should sleep some more.”
“But if I do, I won’t get to spend as much time as you,” you say drowsily.
Her laugh is a light mist that settles comfortably over you. You must have done this many times, you think. You must have whiled away countless hours in her warm arms, to be so comfortable here, so relaxed, so at peace.
Her fingers ghost across your eyelids, and you close them obediently. Her fingers trail down to your lips, tracing their outline. 
“Of course you do. We have all the time in the world,” she says, but there is a trace of sadness in her voice.
You want to ask her why. You want to hold her. You want to tell her you love her. But before you can open your eyes, she is already kissing you like a goodbye.
There is a woman you love.
Her name is [     ].
“Why do you cut hair?”
It is an idle question, posed when there are no more customers in the salon, and the woman is sweeping the floor. You sit in a rolling chair, twirling yourself around in planetary rotations.
“It was a dream I had when I was little,” she says. “I liked the idea of being able to soothe away people’s worries by cutting their hair and listening to them talk. In the end, a lot of people really just need a listening ear.”
“It’s sweet that you care so much about others,” you say, slowing to a stop. You peer up at the woman. You are always looking at her in stolen glimpses like this, stealing away memories to pocket and keep, to pour over when you’re by yourself.
She’s beautiful, with her long, slender fingers, and the silk of her hair brushing her shoulders. 
“Something catch your eye?” she says, without pausing in her work. “Want to talk about it?”
You flush. “No.”
“Well, if you ever need someone to hear your worries, my door is always open for you.”
“Then I’ll do the same for you!” you propose.
“What?” This time, the broom slows to a halt, a touch of astonishment in the woman’s eyes.
“I’ll listen to you. If you’re always listening to other people’s worries, then who’s going to listen to you? I can do that. If it’s not too presumptuous,” you add, embarrassed.
“It’s not,” she responds softly. “It’s not at all. Thank you. You’re a very kind person.”
“I don’t know if I’m that kind–”
“No. You are,” she says firmly. 
The broom clatters to the floor. The woman leans close to where you sit on the chair. You do not dare to stir when she cups her hands around your cheeks and kisses you on the forehead, like it is a spell that can be broken.
You move from house to house in the Eastside. You don’t know why. You’re looking for something, you think. But you can’t remember what.
You bring a bouquet to the woman one day, a fresh meadow of roses and lilies, pale and fragrant.
Her fingers graze against yours as she takes the flowers, her touch lingering just a second too long.
“They’re beautiful,” she says, fingering a petal.
“I wanted to surprise you,” you say nervously. “I thought you looked a little sad lately, and these flowers reminded me of you, so…”
“Sad? I looked sad?” she says, surprised.
“I mean, a little. I don’t know. I thought maybe it was because there’s less customers lately, and everyone is scared of the fog and that silly urban legend, so I wanted to cheer you up,” you begin.
There’s a kaleidoscope of emotions across her face, each one flitting by so quickly you can’t hope to decipher them. 
“I’m all right,” she says, but she still looks a little shaken. “I didn’t realize you could read me so well.”
“Well, I care about you. It would be weird if I didn’t pay attention to you, you know?” You twist your fingers nervously. “Sorry. Was this too much?”
“No. It’s lovely,” the woman says, but there’s a fog blanketing her eyes again, and she is a thousand miles away from you.
“If you’re worried about the rumors, don’t,” you say impulsively. “I’ll protect you.”
“You’ll protect me?” she says, and she is smiling, right where you can reach.
“I’ll walk you home if you want,” you offer.
The woman holds the bouquet to her face, breathing in deeply. “No. It’s okay. Stay home. Try not to go out after dark. Rumors are rumors, but you should try to stay safe, don’t you think?”
“Okay,” you say uncertainly. “Sure. But what if you–”
She smiles mischievously over the flowers. “I’ll be fine. No one will bother an ordinary hairdresser, don’t you think?” 
There is a woman on the streets with short black hair. You grab her arm without thinking.
“What are you doing?” she snaps, jerking her arm away.
“Sorry. I thought you looked like someone I knew,” you stammer, but she’s already hurrying away, and your hands are as lonely as ever.
Hair like a circle of moonlight on your pillow. Soft hands around your waist. Legs entwined like lovers.
In the inky sea of night, it is just the two of you, floating in the boat of your apartment bed.
“You’ve always lived here?” she whispers to you. “In Eastside?”
“Yes. What about you? Did you grow up around here?”
The woman falls silent, contemplating. “I move around quite a bit for work, so I’ve never had time to settle down anywhere.”
You pull her closer. “Why don’t you settle down here, then?”
“It would be nice,” she acknowledges.
“If you’re worried about business, I could help you drum up customers. Solicit random people in the streets. Maybe do some sort of street performance in front of your shop.”
“You? A street performer?”
“I always wanted to learn how to juggle,” you propose.
She laughs. “I don’t think you need to go that far. Or is it just that you want an excuse to juggle?”
“Maybe,” you say. “But you should stay here. It’s a nice neighborhood.”
“It is,” she says. “Very nice. It’s where you grew up, isn’t it?”
“You know, we could…” You lace your fingers together with her. “We could be a family here, too.”
“A family,” she repeats.
“We could be each other’s family,” you murmur again.
“I would like that,” she says quietly.
Her hand is cold and limp in yours. You squeeze it, once, in reassurance, trying to will warmth back into her touch.
There is a new hair salon in your shabby neighborhood. You do not remember when it opened, just that it suddenly sprang into existence between the space of one day and the next. It is a lovely little place, and everyday you pass by, you see a woman through the glass.
Some days she is snipping hair with her scissors. Some days she is bent by the sink, gently washing a customer’s hair. Other days, when it is slow, she is simply resting at the counter.
Once, when she sees you staring, she smiles and tilts her head, bangs falling across her forehead, and you look away before she can see you blush.
The next day, the door is propped open, and as you pass by, she pops her head out. “Hello. Are you interested in a haircut?”
“I don’t know. I don’t really cut it much.” You self-consciously touch the ends.
“You do have lovely hair.” She’s posing by the door, arms crossed over the other. 
“So do you,” you blurt out. “But, I, uh, guess that’s expected. Since you’re a hairdresser.”
She laughs, a sound like wind chimes in the light breeze. “Why, thank you. If you ever find yourself in need of my services, even for a little trim, don’t hesitate to come in.”
The day after that, you scrounge up what little money you have and head into the shop. When the woman sees you, she smiles like the sun. And you, like a flower, cannot help but bloom in her light.
A hand over your eyes. A familiar touch. Your body, sluggish and slow to respond.
“I’ve stayed too long.”
A voice, like a drop of starlight in the night.
“I should have moved on much, much sooner.”
A warmth, next to you.
“You made me selfish. I didn’t want to leave you.”
The shiver of steel in the air.
“But that’s no longer an option. I don’t want to become another worry for you.”
A cool kiss on your lips, a kiss as faint as frost. 
“You deserve to be happy.”
And then, a hollow yearning, stretching like a chasm in your mind, in the space where something should have been.
There is something you have to do.
There is something you have to do, and you are starting to remember what.
There is a memory, like a scrap of discolored silk, that you clutch in your numb fingers.
There are many memories, like faded pieces of fabric, and you collect them all in your hands, as many as you can. They are puzzle pieces, and you have to fit them all together, even if you can no longer tell what they are supposed to be.
You have to remember.
You cannot forget.
You have to remember, as many times as it takes. No matter how painful it is. No matter how difficult. No matter how lonely.
You cannot stop until you see her again.
142 notes · View notes
airdst · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“…You're the only one who I don't want to see meeting the same fate.”
some favourite CGs from The Phantom of the Mist event (aka 3 days of Chief dating Adela)
347 notes · View notes
lower-mkdr · 2 months
Text
I was watching some playthroughs of Phantom of the mist (bc I miss the event) and now I can't stop thinking about how long Adela has been neglecting herself to the point that she truly desires just one thing, she summarizes everything into one quite ambiguous wish, which is having a peaceful life.
It's something we see during her interrogation and we already know how Mad Shears was created by rumors that spreaded constantly after cutting people's worries and then moving out, it's something even the files acknowledge, but what was stuck on my mind for a while was, how subtle she actually is to bring the topic of small wishes or thoughts about things she actually wants through her lines, just to finish the sentence with "Well, it was just a joke", or she simply smiles and tries to make it look like it's not a big deal. And she does it so many times. Like, I swear to god, I want to give her more than a million hugs and kisses and it would never be enough to express how much it hurts me to see her doing everything always for the rest while keeping herself close but actually feeling very far away.
Tumblr media
quality sucks because it's a screenshot but hey, we later understand better that she doesn't only find us/Chief as someone interesting, but such company it's one that she didn't know she would end getting attached to.
Tumblr media
Sloane Street works in a pretty interesting way as something similar to us, it's a place she's fond of, the relationships she slowly builded, even if it was not so long ago, it's something that she actually really cares about, which makes her depart something more and more tragic the more you know or try to understand her.
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Adela herself acknowledges that she doubts her own decisions many times too, but she's so used to run away cutting any kind of worry that she doesn't truly judges it, why so? if that would bring more and more hair that would end suffocating her again? Running away has been the best option for too long since the day she lost her first home, and it's also been a while since she found something close to what she hoped to have after that.
In fact, after Chief recovers their memories, it seems like she stops hiding and instead she just goes ahead with everything that's on her mind. She really took her time while expecting Chief to find the truth and judge her, it's something even Chief tries to ask themselves later, about why she didn't really attack after "winning" the fight during the first night, that leads Chief to think it's because Adela really doesn't wants to hurt anyone, and it's true.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
We even see it later, but her worries doesn't trigger until she realizes the damage that has been done to the people she grew fond of, under all it's her wish of staying there despite everything, because her time on Sloane Street really was the closest thing to the life she always hoped for. Something that is not so hidden in Adela it's that despite her multiple attempts of trying to forget anything, she always wanted something, or someone, that would actually make her stay, it's not something she says, but it's implied in her actions, that's Adela's hope, very deep down it's a part of her wish for a peaceful life. And it makes sense with her final words during her interrogation, she didn't really thought about it until then.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
100% compliance voice line goes along too
I didn't include it but I also thought about the scene where she acknowledged that she likes Chief, the narrative goes like "But she didn't seemed to mean something meaningful", I don't think that's true, her actions speak more than her words, and Adela it's pretty good at managing things like that, but I also like to see it as a way of her to be more precise with how she feels, she's finally opening up in her own way, and the last performance in serving team helps too.
Tumblr media
In conclusion, I love the fact that she slowly learns more and more about talking and expressing the things she wants aside of her work and self proclaimed duty of taking care of others
55 notes · View notes
ptn-imagines · 21 days
Note
I bloody hope you aren't overwhelmed with numerous requests yet (please take care of yourself and rest well!) but may I please request a one shot telling how Adela wants to help her beloved (female sinner as well) get rid of her unpleasant remembrances via a haircut but the sinner refuses to cut her hair as it now holds the most precious and charming memories as well – the ones about Adela? Thank you very much in advance.
Here you go, anon! This is my very first imagine for this blog, so I hope it was worth the wait! I feel like I fell off towards the end, but eh... You know what they say about being your own worst critic.
THE PRICE OF FORSAKEN MEMORIES [ sinner reader x adela ]
rating. teen and up audiences cws. depictions of ptsd and disassociation, implicit hallucinations (visual and audible) word count. 1,683 words.
Mania, among those afflicted, was primarily characterized by the suffering it wrought. Blood, sweat and tears; these were the things that the illness seemed to feed on, the things it was most skilled at drawing out. Mania would bleed a person's heart dry, and then, and only then, would it allow the withered husk left behind to depart from the world. It was a brutal and sadistic inevitability, and even Sinners knew they simply had more time than the rest. Still, amid all the misery and pain, there were good days; days where the Mania was quiet, and the afflicted could play at being “normal.” Healthy. Uninfected. Something other than the refuse of society.
Today, for you, was not one of those days.
You'd buried yourself underneath every duvet you owned to stave off the frigid chill that seeped into your bones. Now, your skin sheltered, drops of sweat pouring down your forehead; and yet, your teeth continued to chatter as shivers wracked your body, fragile in a way known only to the Mania-ridden.
You could feel your blood sprinting through your veins like it had places to be, your treacherous heart spurred into an overtime frenzy. Reason and past experience told you you weren't going to die here – but oh, it certainly felt as though the last grain of sand in the hourglass had fallen for you.
At least I'm not coughing blood this time. A macabre musing that claws its way to the surface of the muck. It carves a smile onto your lips, half-delirious with pain as you are.
You keep your eyes shut. Nothing can muffle the whispers, then the shouts and the screams – but you can blind yourself to the hazy shadows that lurk in the corners, turn your back to the memories that vie for you to bring them to life. No. Not today.
Your body shudders. A cough spills from your throat. If you spoke, would you know your own voice? Nightmares thread with reality as you lay there, a prisoner with no chains, shackled to that day, both your origin and your ending.
A bell rings through the apartment, sharp enough to cut through the empty haze. A bell, a bell, what did it mean again? Your mind struggles under the weight of your half-buried past as Mania tries to claw you back into its wretched grasp. A bell…
Adela. The thought is a lantern shining through the oppressive gloom. Your eyes snap open, the specters fleeing from the light she has brought to the tiny apartment. Your heart still beats to an uneven tempo, but it's no longer the sickness making you dizzy.
“Dearest, are you in here?” Her voice, sweet and silvery like birdsong, is muffled, but you can hear her footsteps approach. You're still too weak to get up, so you wait, a little smile on your lips. It's been a long day. You can't wait to see her.
The door creaks open – you were supposed to call someone about that, weren't you? – and Adela's beautiful face peers into the bedroom. You offer her a little wave, and she breaks out into a radiant smile.
At least, until she notices your ashen-faced features; her smile melts into a worried frown, and she's at your side in a moment. She feels your forehead for a temperature, fretting like a mother hen. She always does this. It never gets any less adorable.
“Are you alright, dear?” she worries, scanning you for obvious signs of malady. “You have a fever… Are you sick?”
You giggle a bit despite how it scrapes at your raw throat, leaning into her tender touch. You are sick, but not in the way she means. “Just a bad day,” you whisper, reaching to intertwine your fingers, and you see the moment realization dawns on her. Of course, she knows; she's a Sinner too, after all. She cannot remember what trauma triggered her change like you can, but Mania finds its ways to torment her even so.
“Oh, my beloved…” Adela's free hand goes to your cheek, gently caressing your face. “I'm sorry. I should have been here.” She's always like this; always blaming herself for things she couldn't possibly control. You don't think you'll ever change this about her, not for lack of trying.
Still, you don't want to let her dwell on it, so you shake your head, rasping a reply: “You're here now, ‘dela. That's… what matters most to me.” You give her the best smile you can, comforting her in the only way you currently know how.
Adela blinks a few times, as though she's surprised you're not blaming her. She probably is; the silly woman takes so much of others’ burdens onto her own shoulders that she's forgotten what it's like not to be responsible for somebody else's woes. “...Thank you, dearest,” she finally manages to say, giving your hand a little squeeze. “Still, forgive my saying this, but you look truly awful. How can I help?”
Your eyes flutter close as you let out a considering hum. “Tea. Then cuddles.”
A few minutes later, you're sipping at a cup of Adela's special tea blend while sitting in your girlfriend's lap. Her hands stroke through your hair, so gentle and kind, and her warmth combined with the sweet and delicate aroma of the drink banishes the darkness that yet lingers. A contented silence settles over the pair of you, basking in the safety and adoration of one another.
…No, not quite contented. Something's on Adela's mind; you can tell by the way her hands occasionally pause before resuming their stroking. You think about asking her about it, but she beats you to it; a gentle sigh passes her lips, and she speaks.
“It was a very bad day for you, wasn't it?” she asks quietly. You glance at the mirror on the wall and see that Adela is fixated on a particular spot on your back. You can imagine what she's seeing, even if it's only in her mind; tresses of twisted, mangy hair spilling over your shoulders, the embodiment of your stress and your anxiety. You wonder how long it is after today.
You can't deny it, so you give an affirmative hum. Adela leans forward to slowly rest against your back, eyes meeting yours in the mirror as she rubs gentle circles into your shoulders. It's a blissful sensation, and only the prospect of the upcoming conversation keeps you present in the moment.
“I don't know why you don't let me cut it away, my love,” she whispers, her breath tickling your ear. You don't remember quite exactly how you found out about Mad Shears; you suspect Adela tampered with those memories. Nevertheless, you'd remembered enough to find your way back to the hairdresser, even after she fled to another neighborhood. She'd been shocked, but… that was years ago now, and you didn't like to think of it much. It had led to a beautiful love blossoming between the two of you, and that's all you cared to dwell on. 
“You're in so much pain,” Adela continues, and you remain silent, trying to gather together the words to say. Adela takes that as a cue to keep talking. “I could fix it all for you. Dearest, why won't you let me help you?”
You sit up properly, and do your best to ignore the twinge of your heart at Adela's little disappointed sigh. “My pain… It's not just tied to the day I became a Sinner, is it?” you answer, your eyes never leaving those of your most beloved in the mirror. “It's entrenched in my Mania. You'd have to wipe my memory completely to erase it, and even then, there's a chance traces of it could linger, right?”
Adela was silent for a moment, hesitant in the face of the flaws in her ability. Her eyes lowered, gaze once again falling your hallucinatory locks of hair; by the way her fingers twisted around nothing, she was fruitlessly attempting to comb out the mess of worries. “But you'd still feel much better than you do now,” she murmured. “Isn't it worth a try?”
“It's a short-term solution to a long-term problem, Adela.” You finally turned around to face your girlfriend properly; her shocked gaze lifted up to your face, and you reached out to stroke her cheeks, smiling. “Besides, even if I was happier for a little bit… I'd eventually just end up even more miserable. Do you know why?”
Adela is silent for a long while, her gaze on you feeling like flames licking your skin. Eventually, ever so slowly, she shakes her head, looking lost. “I don't know. Please tell me.”
“Because… I'd be losing you, the person I love more than anyone or anything.” Adela's eyes widen with shock; even though you feel this should be plain to see, it's clear that such an answer hadn't ever crossed her mind. “Adela, my love, you're the reason I ultimately get up each morning; you're why I haven't curled up and died yet. Without you… I'd be swallowed by my Mania sooner or later, memories or no.”
The other Sinner stared at you as though she was seeing you in a whole new light. Wonder was the one word to describe her expression. Eventually, she shook herself out of it, features curling into the heartfelt smile you adored so much. “I can't say I understand, but… I do trust you. When you say these things… I can't help but feel they must be true.”
“That's good enough for me.” You hold out your arms, and Adela melts into them. She's deceptively strong, but right now, with her body curled against yours, she reminds you of a weak and fragile baby animal. You hold her closer. “You don't have to understand, love. As long as you don't go all Mad Shears on me in my sleep.”
It's a joke, and Adela must know it, judging by the light giggle she lets out. Still, her reply, almost inaudible, is in earnest.
“I promise, my dearest.”
49 notes · View notes
amarantoo · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
Adela Velarde Pérez
Fue la mujer cuyo nombre representaría a todas las enfermeras que prestaron sus servicios no sólo para cuidar de los enfermos y heridos durante la Revolución Mexicana, sino para cargar armas, encargarse de los alimentos e incluso participar en batallas si así se requería.
32 notes · View notes
vesemirsexual · 6 months
Text
me converting people to the way of the women Witchers: can I interest you in some Adela and Dragonfly/Ważka?
39 notes · View notes
scurvgirl · 3 months
Text
I had my newest Tav, Adela, Shadowheart, and Gake all disguise themselves as githyanki going into the creche. Seeing as Adela is a tiefling and trying to kiss our favorite awkward wizard...well, I just thought of some banter.
Gale: Well, this is odd.
Lae'zel: I agree.
Gale: As odd it is for Shadowheart and I, it is strange to see our leader without her tail.
Adela: It’s still there, you know, just invisible.
Gale: Still, it's odd to not see it waving as I walk behind you.
Adela: Oh? I had no idea you paid so much to my backside to miss my tail.
Gale, turning bright red: No! I mean, that is it is a very nice tail, quite long and agile and -
Adela: Relax, wizard, I'm teasing.
Lae'zel: Will you two shut up? We're approaching the creche.
21 notes · View notes
allyooops · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Just some more doodles of Wanderer and his adopted gaggle of children. And a bonus of Adela and her diamond dog gf
33 notes · View notes
kura-wu · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
2023.10.22
36 notes · View notes
sketchyallstar · 10 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Daughters of Triton
Wanted to practice dynamic poses and mermaid anatomy, the subject matter was an obvious choice
12 notes · View notes
cosplayclans · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Path to Nowhere Adela White Cosplay Costumes
15 notes · View notes
dulcesiabits · 17 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
It is literally so hard being the most beautiful person in MBCC. Beautiful women are confessing their love to me everyday
85 notes · View notes
zwan99 · 2 months
Text
Upcoming banners and pull priority IF you care about meta:
1. Yao, Deren
2. Cabernet, OwO
3. Du Ruo, Pearl
4.
5. Don, Vanilla
6. Rahu, Eirene
Cr. Jiu Jiu subs
Tumblr media
15 notes · View notes
lower-mkdr · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
14 notes · View notes