#etcnnante

[crocifissione]

a rabid dog disobeys its leash.  its excitement cannot be contained by a thin, long rein —-  its weight strains and strains and strains against its chains until the metal bends and the throat bruises. 

it’s a struggle.  self-control, that is.  being at the mercy of an unforgiving man made caesar seem so desperate, so pathetic  —-  the body demands stimulation, pleads for relief, but it will not be granted.  not yet.

lips meet lips, and caesar struggles not to growl directly into joseph’s mouth.  pinned to the bed, wrists stretch far above his head, and the steel handcuffs rattle as they clatter against the wooden headboard;  oh, it serves to remind caesar of his place.  defiance wavers, and as joseph’s tongue slips into his mouth, instinct follows the invisible order of intimacy.  saliva swapping, tongue tasting, lip licking —-  all of it, without hesitation, is reciprocated.  a hand rips at the loose, sapphire button-up until it popped open. the sudden motion forces heavy breasts to fall, bouncing atop his chest, their fullness enough to negate gravity’s pull.  digits explore the expanse of one breast, brushing over areola, and toy with the now-erect nipple. it’s sensitive, of course it is, and the groans which spill from caesar’s lungs are deep and desperate. 

“  your passion is bound to me.  ”  the words are prideful, and as @etcnnante whispers them against his cheek, caesar cannot find the courage to shift his gaze towards him, fearing what eye contact might do.  the other hand, the one perpetually hidden behind the thick fabric of a glove, sloppily, impatiently undoes the buckle, the belt, and the button of caesar’s white pants —-  they’re shoved downwards, his lower body lifted meanwhile, and thrown next to the bed with no regard for the potential damage done to their wooden floor.  truth be told, it doesn’t concern caesar either :  his priorities are joseph, and joseph alone.

“  i - i wouldn’t want it any other way,  ”  caesar answers, like a good, obedient boy.  before there’s much of a conversation, caesar feels the sensation of fingers pressing against thin, white panties —- traversing down mons pubis, brushing over his aching clit, parting labia despite the fabric separating fingers and skin. the movement was enough to make his hips twitch, struggling to resist the urge to buck;  further stimulation was a must, and its irregularity drove him to despair. his previously-steady breaths were broken, sporadic in their exertion, and interrupted by gasps, suppressed whimpers, and choked sighs. 

his legs part further, calves pressed flush to his thighs, making room for joseph’s body atop his own, welcoming the additional weight.  emerald hues examine his lover’s half-nude body, how the midsummer heat made him transpire right through his clothing, and how his arousal was obvious, judging by the front of his too-tight pants.  shit.  he was moments away from tearing his underwear off, wasn’t he?  joseph’s impatience did wonders on his own desire.  to be wanted like this, demanded like this —-  ‘twas a dream come true. 

“  so please,  ”   i know what you want to hear.  equal exchange. “  keep touching me.  ”

[determinazionearch]

“   please cease imposing these masculine ideals onto my son.  he’s expressed no interest of his own, and pushing him will not change his mind.   ”  speaking in a stern but soft tone, giorno dares to make eye contact with  @etcnnante.

“   if you desire to bond with a masculine child, hanamaru is right there.  she would love to join you in your hobbies.  but little junior doesn’t want to   —-   please leave him alone.   ”

[vialaviolenza]

@etcnnante continued from here.

The spout of violence was captivating, raw—and so out of character. Joylne stands, her brows knitting in confusion, a twang of worry in her heart as she watches Weather unpack the scenario that had come and went, and even then her opinion of him doesn’t falter. . .Rather, she approaches, squatting in front of him taking care to leave a suitable distance between them.

❝. . .I bet. . .but you’re okay. ❞ There’s a weakness in the smile that pulls but still, she persists, ❝ Everything is okay now—-and as much as I’m sure you want to figure out what THAT was, maybe just try to accept that it happened. ❞ As if she were one to talk, ❝ Who you were before this. . .what exists in your memories, it IS in the past. . .Even if we are actively trying to recover those memories. . .but that doesn't mean whatever life you had before this didn't imprint on you.❞ Slowly, she sits with crossed legs, her head canting slightly to stare at his bruised hands as she tries her best to comfort Weather. 

❝ Honestly. . .if the bastard made you that upset, he probably deserved it. ❞ Palms move behind her as she leans back, her eyes relaxing to half-mast as a gentle sigh leaves her, her eyes lifting to stare at the fluorescent lights overhead. ❝. . .but if you don’t like how it felt. . .❞ She trails off, eyes dropping to glance at her butterfly tattoo. ❝. . .we can consider other options, you know? Like. . .If your memories turn you into someone like that. . .I can find a way to take them away again, but only if that’s something you’d want. ❞

The chance of such a reality makes her swim in guilt, a cascade of emotions drowning her. . .It seems so UNFAIR—and to witness the RAW reaction to something so heinous has her concerned about everything moving forward. In her heart, she wants to believe he’d never do anything to put her or their friends in jeopardy, but he can’t guarantee anything. . .She knows this, but still, she remains at his side, refusing to leave him. 

❝⸻Whatever choice you make. . .I won’t judge you for it. I just need to know what you want. ❞

[forfamily]

The ride was a long and bumpy one. Iggy had made his bed on her lap and as she absently stroked one of his ears, she stared out through the glass into the distance at the endless sea of sand. It was supposed to be her grandfather here, in this seat. The Old Lion of Naples, a long-time friend of Joseph Joestar- Dario Zeppeli. But given their family's history... Bianca absolutely refused to let him undertake this task.

A Zeppeli would always lay their life down for a Joestar.

Great-great grandfather Will did it. Great Uncle Caesar. She would not let Dario be the next Zeppeli to do so. Not when she was young, powerful, and more than capable of taking his place. Of course, he protested- and it wasn't only him but other members of the famiglia as well, and she had to admit, their arguments were sound: she'd only taken over the family a year before- it was time, now, to make her name, to take the respect from the other Dons that she had every right to.

There were more important things.

Making the Joestars pay.

To deliver Joseph Joestar's body on a silver platter.

She groaned, fingers pressing against her temple as her brows furrowed. No, that was- her head was killing her. The headaches were getting more frequent in the last few months. Making her think strange things. See strange things. Then again, that wasn't exactly new- she'd had strange visions all her life.

"Baroness Zeppeli, are you okay?" One of the pilots must have noticed her grimace and heard her small sound of discomfort. Even Iggy, as indifferent as he normally was, was peering up at her.

"I'm fine, sorry. Just a bit of a headache is all." She responded to the headset.

The man nodded. "We're beginning our descent, Baroness. Are you sure about this? We can still take you back--" "No. This is something I have to do."

Both men sighed- they'd promised Dario they'd try to deter her, but that was the sixth rebuff. There was clearly no changing her mind. Bianca peered out the window again, frowning- there were ruins nearby, and she could have sworn... no. There was no one on the desolate stones- it must have been a trick of the light. Instead, she turned her attention to the group of men on the ground- five of them, looking small but growing bigger as the helicopter descended.

@etcnnante

[ongewensta]

“ what are you doing, papa? ” it’s equally a demand and a question, the little curious girl approaching her father without thinking of what she’s possibly interrupting. he always had time for little hanamaru, didn’t he? and whatever he chose to do was always so interesting! little hands grasped onto the fabric of @etcnnante’s shirt, tugging it —- as if her near - deafening voice (inherited from him, naturally) wasn’t enough to draw attention to her! not even knowing what he’s doing yet, her second question follows without hesitation; “ can i help? ”

[fateripples]

🚼

Get to know my character through an ask! | Does your character have or want kids?

He doesn't have any children, no. He does want them, though. Oh, he wants them so badly. Not immediately, because he's got a few things to figure out first, and he's not quite ready for settling down. This is the one thing he can't rush-- because he's going to do it right. Even more than having children, it's important to him that he's a good father to them, and he's not about to walk into that with anything less than his whole heart in it.

[crocifissione]

“  is… uh, is something the matter?  ”  its volume descends, ‘til it’s little more than a whisper.  concealed underneath a thick, foamy layer of bubbling soap, caesar’s figure seeks to obscure itself behind distortions and residue.  fatigue’s haze manipulated his judgment. his infatuation did little to help.  it should keep his (not-so-hidden) secret safe —-  at least, if @etcnnante’s inattentive enough not to notice.   “ you’ve been… staring.  ”

[determinazionearch]

“ what if i did it? ”

taming the unease bucking against his ribs proved the most difficult challenge yet; it pulled strings on his body language, prompting a swallow, a deep inhale —- and a trembling exhale, almost shrinking giorno's presence. this was a delicate matter … therefore, a delicate approach was necessary.

“ certain organisms can bring death to whatever they touch. perhaps … gold experience could ‘aid’ your father. ” okuyasu wasn't home. mr. nijimura was upstairs. the quiet was unnecessary —- despite all that, giorno found himself whispering to @etcnnante. recent ... ( bloody, visceral, nigh - traumatizing ) events had transpired, granting giorno a realization : his almost - divine ability of creating life could extinguish just as easily. maybe, for once, it could be used for good ... to bestow peace upon a loved one.

“ is that something you would want? ”