At first I thought it was sasa lele
At first I thought it was sasa lele
hurt comfort because yes
“when can i say your name and have it mean only your name and not what you left behind?”
(click for quality)
[ID: a digitally drawn picture of Jotaro Kujo and Noriaki Kakyoin from Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure. The two are wearing their school uniforms. They are facing one another, and both are smiling. Jotaro is holding Kakyoin’s cheek. The background is made up of saturated pink and purple paint strokes, with the outline of two squares around Kakyoin and Jotaro’s heads. End ID]
20/01 - 18/02 ♒ Happy birthday Ocean Man🌊.
maybe fixing copiers isnt for you buddy
Hey you know this pic right?
That's Kakyoin in part 4
The rest of the Crusaders, wearing parachute backpacks: yeah we're not letting you jump out of the plane like that.
Kakyoin, wearing a hat with a little propeller on top: guys just trust me.
I don’t draw very much in general and I’m trying to learn to draw men so I drew some Men and they came out okay and I’m p proud of them
Colorful Jotahan 💜✨💙✨🧡✨🤍✨
Lineart by me , ❤️✨
Coloring by @shorknados ❤️✨
I have never been more tempted by a figurine before in my life.
I stayed out of bed 30 minutes just to draw a future arc.
now back to bed
Someone come get this dilf
*sketch I’ll add some color to later
Free Falling - 1 - The Beginning
[Check out the Free Falling series masterlist here]
[prequel to Holding On and other FF series oneshots, early-SDC, future Jotaro/fem afab reader, reader is a Stand user, canon-typical violence, angst, death of a minor character]
You’d been sent to kill them, a fact which you dreaded with every fiber of your being. Joining them was the last thing you expected to do.
»»————- ♔ ————-««
The sound of footsteps drawing nearer filled you with dread. Anticipating their arrival hadn’t made you any more ready for it, especially not given that they’d shown up earlier than the time you’d laid out for them. You were sure making it to the meeting place before sunrise had been their way of trying to catch you unawares, make certain that there had been no deception in your prior insistence that you wanted an honest battle. It seemed likely enough to you that they’d already fought some of the minions sent by your master, a term you despised using to describe the bastard. You couldn’t picture anyone who worked willingly for Dio to be morally upstanding in any capacity and as such it was fair for them to have regarded your promise of no foul play with significant skepticism. In all honesty, it was probably better for them to have arrived sooner than planned.
Better to get awful things done and over with rather than dread having to do them any longer than necessary.
You watched the group of men coming closer, the clear night sky allowing for the moonlight to guide their way and let you see them easily. As massive and tall as they were, you couldn’t help wondering just how much luck you’d even have defeating a single one of them, especially with so little knowledge of their Stands save for a few. Victory seemed an uncertain thing in the face of having multiple strong opponents, but you had no choice other than to seek it out with everything that you had, no matter the consequences or the harm which might befall you in the process. What you stood to lose if you were to fail was too great for you to relent to anything, neither fear nor broken bones. Losing was not an option.
“It seems like you were telling the truth,” Joseph Joestar called out to you, the closest thing to a greeting you expected to get and certainly more than you deserved.
Standing up from the large stone you’d elected to take a seat on, you left your belongings laying on the ground beside it to make your way over. Not wanting to get too close yet, uncertain if they might attack immediately were you to come too near, you drew to a halt with a fair few feet between yourself and the five crusaders. Most of them seemed to regard you with a visible tension, gazes sharp and assessing, viewing you as the enemy that you were rather than the normal young woman you knew you appeared to be. They could have stared at you with the utmost hatred in their eyes and you wouldn’t have been able to judge them for it, not when you’d let them know only hours ago that it was your intention to eventually kill all of them. All things considered, they were being far more polite than was warranted.
“When you claimed to not want to risk hurting any innocent bystanders by fighting us in the village, I really thought you were trying to lull us into a false sense of security. I expected an ambush or a trap, but you really are here all alone, aren’t you?”
“I wouldn’t try to read too much into it, Mr. Joestar. Not wanting to drag anyone uninvolved into this fight doesn’t change my intentions and I’m very much here to kill all of you.”
“Just the same, you’re more honorable than I would have expected.”
It pained you to hear him say such a thing when you knew it couldn’t have been further from the truth, schooling your features into the neutral mask you’d learned to wear ever since you’d lost your freedom to a monster. Respect or sympathy were two things that would do nothing to help you and you needed neither. What you did need was for Joseph Joestar and his comrades to die.
“It wouldn’t do for us to have a go at you all at once. We at least owe you the courtesy of a fair fight.”
“Does it matter? The end result will be the same either way. Somebody will end up dead before this is all over.”
“Just the same, it wouldn’t sit right with me if we ganged up on you.”
His need to be decent and chivalrous only made the entire situation worse, more painful, and the bitterness you felt at the position you’d been forced into only deepened. It was bad enough to be coerced into having to kill in the first place, much less murder those who were a great deal kinder than the madman you were working for. The only way you could possibly get through this would be to turn your heart off to the apparent goodness your foes looked to possess, lying to yourself that it had to be a facade of decency much like your own. Perhaps if you let yourself believe that they were awful, doing what you had to do wouldn’t hurt so damn much, no matter that your reason for coming to kill them in the first place ought to have been cause enough.
What was the loss of five lives if it meant saving the only one that truly mattered to you?
Swallowing down the ache which made every beat of your heart feel like agony, you shrugged your shoulders in an attempt to seem as unconcerned and callous as possible. You remembered your end goal and held tight to it, determined to truly care about nothing else.
“Fine. If that’s how you’d prefer to do this then let’s get on with it, shall we?”
Joseph gave a nod of agreement, unwilling it seemed to prolong the inevitable violence that would happen, and he turned towards his companions. Before he could say a word, perhaps even inquire as to who wanted to fight first, one of the men beside him took a step forward.
“I’ll fight her.”
“Are you sure, Polnareff?”
The name was a familiar one, connected to the little information you had about the men you were meant to defeat. You had basic details to go on in order to recognize them, primarily names, but specifics regarding Stands had been offered only towards those who had formerly been under Dio’s employ. Jean Pierre Polnareff was one such person and Silver Chariot, as you’d been told, was a powerful and formidable Stand, not to be taken lightly. Battling someone like that would be no easy task at all, but you supposed it was better to know what you were up against for the first fight rather than going in blind.
“I’m sure, Mr. Joestar. I’d rather it be me than Jotaro. I don’t think he’d pull any punches, not even against a pretty girl.”
The young man in black turned to walk away after his grumbled out phrase had been released to the night, meandering along towards a grouping of large stones not too dissimilar from the one you’d been occupying before. Joseph followed after him, as did the fellow with the red hair, only one other member of their party lingering.
“Polnareff, do not use her gender as an excuse to underestimate her. Anyone can be a formidable Stand user.”
“I’m well aware, Avdol. No need to tell me that. I’ll take this as seriously as she does. Anything less would be disrespectful to her.”
Avdol regarded his friend with what appeared to be some skepticism, perhaps not entirely trusting the reassurances he’d been offered, but whether or not they were mere platitudes looked to become a moot point. He sighed deeply and turned away, going to join the rest of his compatriots, clearing the grass ground so that it could become the battlefield you intended for it to be. All that remained was Polnareff and yourself, facing one another at a cautious distance. Silence fell as you waited to see if he might make the first move, watching as his gaze raked over you, though you couldn’t be certain if his assessment of you was a means of sizing you up or judging you for being weak. That he made no effort to draw forth his Stand implied that he’d leaned more towards the later, assumption and hesitance something you knew you would have to use to your advantage in eliminating him. The thought brought you no joy.
“We don’t have to do this, you know. Your actions alone tell me that you’re not being controlled by one of Dio’s flesh buds. Whatever money or power he’s promising to give you if you kill us isn’t worth it.”
That he would dare to assume that greed was the cause of your current position made your blood boil, even if it made perfect sense for him to believe such things. It wasn’t fair of you to be angry at him, to feel furious that his immediate impression was to think that you found money to be worth murder, but your ire was instantaneous. Foolish and foolhardy as it was, Polnareff’s words goaded you into action, beginning the fight he was loathe to start himself. In a matter of only seconds, with the glow of your Stand spreading out behind your back, you raced across the distance which separated you from him in the blink of an eye. Your fist met Polnareff’s cheek with a great deal of force, the blow strong enough to knock him back, and he flew away from you with a surprised bellow of pain. Free Falling propelled you after him, leading you past him before he could land or right himself, and you arched out a kick to send him right back the way he’d come from.
Being ricochet like a ping-pong ball seemed to phase him only briefly and surely only as a result of his surprise, your lightning quick attacks disorienting him temporarily. Polnareff’s Stand appeared through him, a silver suit of armor just as you’d had described to you, its fencer’s foil slamming down into the ground to slow the flight of its user. Grass and dirt were dragged up from tapered metal, creating a long fissure across the clearing, ending where Polnareff eventually stopped in a crouch. You gave him a moment to collect himself, to stare you down as he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, and he regarded the illuminated expanse of the phantom wings stretched out from your back with what almost seemed to be respect.
“You’re fast. Very fast. I barely even saw either of those hits coming.”
He turned his head, spitting out a small mouthful of red before he stood up to his full height, and you watched as moonlight struck the polished silver of the spectral being floating at his side. Had the circumstances been different, you would have found it to be a beautiful sight. Instead, you felt only dying anger brought on by his past words and remorse for how much more damage you had to do before everything would be said and done. Polnareff strode slowly towards you, all light-heartedness looking to be gone from his eyes, and you tensed as he drew nearer, prepared to put your guard up.
“You really do mean business.”
Silver Chariot lunged at you once it was within range, a strike of its foil prompting you to dodge back. Polnareff gave you no room to breathe, following wherever you went, Chariot’s weapon swift and precise. In spite of the speed that Free Falling granted you, Polnareff’s Stand was equally as quick with every attempted blow, and you wondered if his effort to chase you was a means of trying to tire you out or back you into a corner. Rather than let his attacks lead you to somewhere he chose, you planted your feet and stood your ground, wings curling forward around you to act as a shield. With a stationary target to attack, Chariot became unrelenting, attempting to break through your defenses in a flurry of strikes that practically blurred from their swiftness. The onslaught had your body growing taut, putting you on the proverbial ropes. It showed no signs of stopping or slowing, leaving you to wonder how long it would take for either Polnareff to tire or for your shield to give out. The longer you held on, the hammering of blows against your resistance slowly pushing you back inch by inch, the more you could understand your opponent.
Silver Chariot could clearly strike with pinpoint accuracy and yet Polnareff made no attempt to slip through any of the more vulnerable parts of your shield to go for your legs or feet when they were less covered. He could hurt you, send you off balance and sneak past the safety your Stand provided to take you down, but he didn’t seem as if he wanted to try. Was he still holding back? You knew there was only one way to be sure and though it was risky, dangerous, you had to be certain that he was going easy on you. It felt back-handed and dirty, but if he truly wasn’t going at you as hard as he could then you could use that weakness to your own benefit, no matter if the idea of exploiting his vulnerability made you feel ill inside. Gritting your teeth and preparing for pain, you let Free Falling fade away.
The flurry of jabs stabbed into you over and over, creating bloody gashes and punctures all across your body. Every single one hurt more than you could’ve prepared for, the sharp agony of each wound enough to make you cry out, but the onslaught was over before the sound had completely escaped your lips. Polnareff, realizing that his attacks were actually hitting his target, jumped back and away from you, Chariot following him. His eyes grew wide, horrified for the harm he’d caused, and you couldn’t understand why he would feel so aghast at himself for injuring you when that was the entire point of the fight in the first place. The instantaneous regret that you could read on his face through the white hot rush of pain told you all that you needed to know. His heart still wasn’t in the fight and for whatever reason, no matter your desire to kill him and his friends, he didn’t want to bring you to harm. How in the hell had any of them survived the other Stand user’s Dio? Moreover, how in the hell were you supposed to push yourself through to killing any of them when even one of their group evidently couldn’t bring himself to willingly hurt you?
Why couldn’t they just make this easier for you somehow?
“We don’t have to keep doing this. You’re injured.”
He didn’t want to do this any more than you did and damned if that didn’t make the entire situation leaps and bounds worse than it already was. Unable to give in and refusing to back down, you straightened your spine and stared at him with as much cold determination as you could muster.
“I’m afraid you’re wrong on both counts. I’m not injured.”
You felt the primary function of your Stand flaring up, warm energy pooling through your body as flesh slowly knit back together, the haphazard array of wounds across your form closing up before the eyes of your opponent and the spectators. You saw Polnareff’s jaw drop at the realization of what Free Falling could really do, heard someone on the sidelines utter some reactionary comment you couldn’t fully discern, ignoring them until it was their turn to fight you. Polnareff was your current objective, your immediate target, and you had to tend to him before you could even begin to handle the rest.
You could do this.
You had to.
“And we do have to keep doing this.”
The wings that formed Free Falling broke apart, glowing feathers following your command to fire at Polnareff, razor-sharp projectiles tearing along his body without the mercy you longed to give. Your lips twitched, fighting a frown as you watched them rip across his form, fingers shaking as more and more lacerations sent blood raining from his flesh. His shout was startled, pained, and it was one of the worst sounds you’d ever heard, one that very nearly made it difficult for you to hurry across the space between you to knock him to the ground. You straddled his chest once his back hit the grass, wrapping a hand around his throat while your arm reared back, hand balling into a tight fist. Polnareff didn’t move, didn’t speak, bleeding and staring up at you with neither anger nor fear in his blue eyes, Silver Chariot floating silently nearby. His Stand didn’t attack nor did Polnareff try to fight you off of him, not even as your fist started to come down.
In your mind, you saw red. You pictured slamming your knuckles ceaselessly into his face until all that remained was a mess of blood and ruin. You imagined pummeling him until his eyes were swollen shut and his nose was broken, raining blows onto him until he was dead. It would be so easy when he laid there under you, choosing to remain docile rather than fight back. He was letting you do it, letting you kill him, and thus taking some of the struggle out of all the awful, dirty work you had to do. It was easier for him not to fight.
You could do this.
Your fist slammed into the ground just beside his head, knuckles stinging from the force of hitting the earth so hard. Panting and wide-eyed, you stared down at the man you knew you had to kill as he looked at you with an expression far too soft and too kind for what your intentions were. Shaken from your own hesitation, your inability to follow through, you tore yourself off of him in a rush, scrambling away until there was a significant number of feet between the two of you, shaking in the aftermath of what you’d almost done to him. You fought to calm your heart, regulate your breathing, swearing that your faltering had been nothing more than a fluke. Warring with your own mind gave Polnareff time to get back on his feet, wincing as the wounds you’d given him ached and wept crimson.
“I was right. You don’t want to kill me. I don’t think you want to kill any of us, do you?”
That he could see right through you so easily was sobering and it had you putting your guard back up in seconds, forcing yourself to feign an anger towards him that you didn’t truly feel. You had to pretend that it was a fluke that you hadn’t committed to the striking opportunity you’d had, that his obvious lack of fight was what had caused you to withdraw. You had to, but you couldn’t, not when he was seeing through the falsified malice you wielded to understand that beneath it all, you were suffering through every second of this disgusting mission Dio had given you.
“What I want doesn’t matter. Make no mistake, what just happened was a temporary lapse. I won’t repeat it.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“What you believe or don’t isn’t my concern.”
Polnareff held up his hands, lifting them in a gesture of surrender, and Chariot hovered at his side a moment longer before disappearing from sight entirely. You knew you’d begun to stare at him like he’d gone completely off his rocker when he smiled, nothing about the expression patronizing or smug. It appeared genuine, so much so that you had a hard time believing he was trying to lull you into a false sense of security. If he was acting at being passive in order to get the drop on you when you least expected then he was doing a spectacular job of faking sincerity.
“If you need to kill me then I won’t stop you. Come at me with everything you’ve got.”
He appeared to mean exactly what he said, smile lingering and eyes calm, as if to say that he was perfectly okay with dying at that moment. His willingness to lay down his life made no sense, seemed completely absurd unless he deep down had a death wish, and your shocked gaze shifted into a furious glare.
“Are you out of your mind?! Don’t you have any sense of self-preservation at all?! What the hell are you thinking?!”
“I’m thinking that you’re doing this because you feel you have no choice. If Dio gave you a flesh bud, you would’ve been less inclined to hesitate. Trust me, I’ve been there. I know what it’s like. I think it’s something else. He’s done something to make you believe that your only option is to kill us even though I don’t believe you want to. If you did, I’d already be dead by now.”
Polnareff closed his eyes, whether out of preparation for a death blow or to show you that he was further handicapping himself for whatever came next. Perhaps it was neither, his sudden desire to throw in the towel instead a ruse to see if you could even follow through. It seemed very likely after your initial inability to slaughter him that he expected as much to happen again, his actions a test of your resolve. It was a test you were determined not to fail.
“If killing me is what you need to do then I’ll let you.”
You didn’t believe him and you wouldn’t back down, illuminated feathers breaking off from Free Falling to cluster tightly together, creating one massive projectile angled to fly straight for his heart. Polnareff stayed still and his companions showed no sign that they were afraid for him, not a word of protest coming from a single member of his party. Either they didn’t care what happened or they too believed that you wouldn’t commit to the kill, your heart racing beneath your breast as you willed yourself to prove their assumptions wrong. It didn’t really matter if they were right or that they knew your actions were not of your own volition. There wasn’t room for morality after what Dio had promised you would happen if you didn’t complete the task he’d forced upon your shoulders. With the barest motion of your hand, the glowing barb flew at Polnareff fast enough to rustle the grass below, racing from where you stood to the seemingly helpless target just ahead.
Polnareff didn’t move or call on his Stand. His eyes didn’t open. In seconds, he’d be dead and you could move on to Joseph Joestar and the rest. If fate was kind, they’d put up even less of a fight and soon it would all be over. You thought of your father, trying to keep his face at the forefront of your mind as the killing blow raced closer, remembering that the person you cared most about would always be more important than some stranger you had no attachment to.
“Your father means everything to you, doesn’t he, Y/N?” Dio had asked of you, the memory of his grin one that would haunt you just as much as the one you were making. “Surely the loss of a few useless lives won’t matter if it means keeping your precious papa safe?”
You knew that Polnareff felt the sharp tip of the projectile against his chest when he opened his eyes, staring down at the stationary barb which had come to a halt just short of plunging into his heart. He didn’t look at all surprised to still be alive or even shocked by how close you’d come to carrying out your task and that only made every single regret you carried so much worse. His companions looked to know that the fight was over even before you let Free Falling disappear, the presence against Polnareff’s chest disappearing the moment that all of his wounds were healed. Everyone, it seemed, had seen straight through you and it explained their lack of any real concern or worry. His friends surrounded him, looking Polnareff over to discover that every trail of blood on his form was connected to a wound that was no longer there, closed thanks to the power of your Stand. Meanwhile, he stared past them to regard you with a concern that felt akin to pouring iodine on a fresh cut for how painful it was to see.
“We can help you. It doesn’t matter what Dio is using against you or what he promised he’d do for you, we can help.”
“Dio, by his very nature, is cruel and manipulative. He knows how to find anyone’s weakness and exploit it however he deems necessary to get what he wants.”
The redheaded young man lifted a hand to his forehead, rubbing his fingers across the beginnings of his hairline, perhaps remembering the bulb of flesh Dio had given him once upon a time. Kakyoin, if your memory was accurate. You almost wished that you could find comfort in that relation, the understanding that came with being a victim of Dio’s machinations. In your mind and heart, there was a huge difference between being forced to be a pawn with no choice and being given an option as you had. You couldn’t make any excuses for yourself or for the wrongs that you’d done and tried to do. It was all too clear to you and it had been from the moment you’d set eyes on Dio that he was a monster, one who would only ruin the world to get whatever he wanted out of it. You’d known that about him and you’d chosen to be selfish, to only care about what mattered to you over what awful things he would do if the people he seemed most concerned might stop him were taken out.
“I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do. As soon as Dio finds out that I didn’t carry out my orders..”
You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the words, the very idea of saying that your father would be killed out loud feeling like speaking that event into reality. What were you going to do now? It would take several hours to get to an airport and use what little money you’d been given for travel to book a flight back to Cairo, leaving a large window of time for Dio to learn about your failure. By the time you even reached Egypt, your father would very likely be dead already and even if he was still alive, you weren’t even sure how to find him. The location of Dio’s residence wasn’t information you had, not when all of your meetings had been housed in the hotel room your father had been using since his work had first taken him to Cairo. The chances you had to keep him alive, free him of Dio’s grasp and the flesh bud he’d been implanted with, seemed slim. If you couldn’t make yourself kill the Joestar group than what could you possibly do to help your dad? It all felt so utterly hopeless.
The despair you felt became so clear to the men standing before you, written across your face like the stars that were still visible in the sky. You doubted the way you felt would fade as the night did with the coming dawn, not even when Joseph stepped forward to lay a reassuring hand on your shoulder. The touch startled you out of your reverie, your faltering attempts to figure out your new game plan halted, and he let go for fear of overstepping boundaries.
“What did Dio use to convince you to work for him?”
“He used me.”
Nobody had expected another voice to join in on the conversation, least of all you, and you whirled around as soon as you heard it, once you knew that the sound of it was familiar. At first you saw no one, hearing only the telling sound of footsteps drawing near, arms pushing foliage aside. Uncertain and yet so hopeful, praying that your ears hadn’t been playing tricks, you watched for the moment that the brush at the edge of the clearing was shoved out of the way to reveal the one figure you most ached to see. The visage of your father stepping out onto the grass was the last thing you could have anticipated and it seemed so unreal you almost didn’t believe he was there, stuck gawking at the sight of him, temporarily still and speechless. As he moved closer, your confusion and hesitation fled from your mind, replaced instead by the relief of seeing him again, seemingly free of Dio’s clutches. You shook off the hand Joseph tried to set back on your shoulder, running to your father and into his outstretched arms to hold him as tight as you could, afraid that he’d vanish like a mirage if you dared to let him go.
“I don’t understand. You were still in Cairo when I left there. How are you here? Why are you here? How did you get away from Dio?”
“Breathe, sweetheart,” he said with a laugh, running his hands up and down your back the way he always had whenever he knew you were upset or stressed. “Stop and take a breath. I barely understood half of those questions with how fast they came out.”
How was he so calm after everything that had happened, acting as if nothing in the world was amiss? He’d been away from home for months before he’d sent word that he wanted you to take a leave of absence from school to come to Egypt and you still had no idea how much of that time he’d spent under Dio’s sway. It didn’t make sense for him to be so at ease after he’d been manipulated into telling Dio of your abilities, willingly allowing you to be coerced into being Dio’s puppet as if the threat to his own life didn’t matter to him. Not unless the flesh bud was still implanted, forcing him to do whatever the vampire expected of him. You couldn’t bring yourself to let him go, the scent of his cologne still unchanged even if his mind was not fully his own, but you did angle back enough to look up into his eyes, searching them for some reassuring sign that he was truly okay.
“I don’t understand,” you said again and you couldn’t help the way you flinched when your father leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead. “What’s going on?”
“You failed him, sweetheart.”
Your father settled his hand against your cheek, touch gentle and soothing like his smile ought to have been.
“And when you fail, you have to suffer the consequences.”
His fingertips pressed into your skin, painfully diving beneath it, and you choked out a scream when you felt the agonizing sensation of blood being pulled from your flesh. Your father’s smile stretched wider, revealing the pointed fangs in his mouth that had never been there before, and as he began to drain the life from your body, you realized that he felt cold.
“Be a good girl and accept your punishment!”
Your knees began to buckle, the very real danger you were in warring with your inability to hurt him, trying to push him away rather than use your Stand against him. If you wanted to survive, you knew you’d have to fight back, but even as he took your blood with an evident glee, uncaring of the fact that he was killing his own daughter, you couldn’t bring yourself to bring Free Falling out.
A hail of glittering gems rained down on the ground around the both of you, near enough that the danger of being struck was too real for your father to ignore. He yanked his fingers from your face with a growl, diving back and away from the attack with a speed he would never have possessed had he’d still been human. You felt the burn of the wounds gouged into your cheek, blood spurting from each one, and you stumbled back into a firm body, held up by a green-clad arm circling around your waist. Gasping, you leaned back into the stabilizing hold you found yourself in, not struggling as you were led back towards the men you had originally meant to harm.
“Are you all right?”
You glanced at Kakyoin with a nod, your Stand manifesting to close the wounds in your face in a matter of moments. It didn’t feel as if your father had managed to take too much blood, but the amount had been enough to leave you feeling a little woozy and you had to lean on the other teen for a little longer before you felt as if you could stand completely on your own.
“What the hell was that?” Polnareff asked, stepping up to stand at your opposite side, glaring at the creature settled in a crouch not far from the ground Kakyoin had damaged.
“I’ll tell you what it is! That bastard Dio turned her father into a vampire!”
It was the angriest you’d heard Joseph sound since you’d crossed paths with him, a sidelong glance revealing an expression brimming with utter fury, showing just how much rage he held inside him for the same monster you hated with all your heart. The shock of seeing your father and what he’d been turned into still held on to you, made wrestling with the horrible new reality you were facing an even greater struggle than trying to kill Polnareff had been. You knew that seeing was believing, what you’d witnessed and felt as your dad attacked you not something you could deny, but it was no less difficult to accept. Not until you realized that Dio had to have turned him well before you’d encountered the Joestar group and long before you had failed to carry out the task he’d put on your shoulders.
Dio had goaded you into becoming a murderer to keep the only family you had left safe and he’d lied about it, hadn’t kept his word in the slightest. He’d essentially killed your father even without waiting for confirmation of victory or failure on your part and as the thought settled, the blood your father hadn’t stolen felt like it turned to a fire within you.
“Y/N, why don’t you come back over here and give your papa another hug? You see, sweetheart, I’ve recently become a bit of a glutton. I really shouldn’t want any of your blood when I had so much earlier. Do you want to know how much?”
At the snap of his fingers, an incredible rustling filled the air as the foliage all around the clearing began to move, shifting and snapping with the push of shadowed figures emerging into view. They stepped out on to the grass by the dozens, people of all sizes and genders filling the space which surrounded yourself and the others. Some were covered in the remnants of spilled blood, clothing torn in places, and not a single one looked to still be human, their eyes tiny dots of glowing crimson.
“The village,” Avdol whispered, voice as horrified as the expression on his face. “He killed everyone in the village nearby. Turned all of them into vampires.”
As small as the village population was, it may have well been in the thousands for how out numbered you were, your father’s actions beyond unspeakable. He’d killed innocent people without shame or regret and it seemed to be as much for the joy of having the power to do so as it was what his master had expected of him. They’d all died to punish you for failing and to kill Joseph’s group where you could not. Were it not for the threat to your life and the lives standing beside you, guilt would’ve knocked you down, left you utterly useless. It sat inside you, a heavy stone lodged within your chest next to the heart Dio had already broken, but it was not enough to defeat you. Not yet. You hadn’t been able to kill Polnareff and you still had no desire to kill anyone at all. Yet you knew it had to be done, the monsters your father had made needing to be laid to rest as much as he did and if that responsibility had to fall to anyone, it had to be you.
Pieces of Free Falling broke off to hover in the air around you, poised at the ready to launch at any of the vampires that dared to come closer, showing how ready you were to fight. There was a sound nearby that reminded you of a hum, accompanied by a golden glow that was reminiscent to the sunlight that wasn’t very far from coming. The vine like tendrils of Joseph’s Hermit Purple snapped like a whip before him, mingling with the yellow light that you could not recognize as Hamon, the older gentleman looking more than prepared to do battle.
“They may not be Stand users, but there’s a lot of them, so this isn’t likely to be an easy fight.”
Heat and fire made the air feel warmer, the presence of Avdol’s Stand as imposing a sight as the massive violet figure that soon emerged from Jotaro, the same two words he’d uttered before escaping his lips. Polnareff and Kakyoin looked ahead with the utmost resoluteness, silver and green fighting spirits next to them. You weren’t positive of exactly how strong any of their Stands really were beyond what you knew of Silver Chariot and Hierophant Green, but no matter the odds the men ready to fight at your side looked like they would give it everything they had. You promised yourself that you’d do all that you could to ensure that all of them made it out okay, knowing that you owed them that much at the very least.
“All right, everyone. I promised you food and fun, so by all means..”
Your father pressed his fingers against the pad of his thumb.
“..go enjoy yourselves.”
An audible snap had the vampires rushing ahead in droves, some laughing in a way that could only be described as maniacal while others snarled as if they’d lost all sense for anything other than their lust for blood. The first wave to get close enough was knocked back by a combination of your Feather Barrage and Kakyoin’s Emerald Splash, burnt to dust after the fact by Avdol’s crimson Stand. It was impossible to keep so many attackers from getting closer and before long everyone had no choice other than to separate slightly, doing as best as humanly possible to watch out for one another while trying not to be completely overrun. Fist strikes that were as fast as lightning and punctuated by furious cries of ‘ORA’ sent vampire after vampire flying through the air, punches strong enough to break bones. Between Avdol and Joseph, many of the immediately injured vampires were turned to dust before their wounds could heal. Polnareff, much like Jotaro, made use of his Stand’s speed and deadly accuracy to incapacitate his foes, leaving them vulnerable to the two members of the party most capable of actually dealing killing blows.
Kakyoin and yourself tried all that you could to keep as much of the monsters at a distance with your long-range attacks. It all felt never-ending, exhaustion only growing as you took notice of every wound your allies received and healed them before the afflictions could risk slowing them down. You’d never used Free Falling for so long before and even if your temporary companions had more practice, it was easy to see them becoming weary as the fighting wore on. You sent a projectile into the skull of one vampire as she got the drop on Polnareff, throwing her from his back and Avdol turned a scrawny excuse for an assailant into cinders after Kakyoin’s Stand knocked him off of you. The fight was difficult, more so than you could have ever expected, but it felt survivable with everyone mutually keeping each other safe. It was clear even if their time together had not yet been that long that Mr. Joestar’s group worked well as a team, the formidable force they created something you could understand to be a point of concern for Dio regardless of his apparent power. If you’d been able to commit to killing them, you wouldn’t have stood a chance at winning.
There seemed to be an end in sight, the number of vampires dwindling down to a mere few, but you still fought on without being willing to let down your guard. As you charged forward with Free Falling to deliver a potent kick, knocking one of the remaining creatures into the path of Avdol’s fire, you let your eyes hurriedly scan around, trying to see where your father was. Before you could question if he was still present, if he’d been killed in the fray, you were knocked hard onto your back by the very person you’d hoped to find. The jacket you wore protected your skin from being scraped, the force of the charging body hitting you causing you to skid a few feet across the ground. Reacting as quickly as you could, you grabbed hold of your father’s wrists as his hands reached for your neck, his strength too much for you to hold off, magnified by what he’d become. Having no choice, you let your Stand tear into him, listening to him cackle at the pain of your dagger-like projectiles driving into his back. Hermit Purple looped around his body, pinning his arms to his sides, and you noted the lack of gold mingling with its usual color as you dragged yourself back on your elbows, helped on to your feet by Avdol.
With your father immobilized, struggling against a binding he seemed unable to break, you looked around to see that there was no one else left to fight, the small horde of vampires finally dispatched. All that was left was the person who had created them, their maker a man you knew so well and yet no longer recognized at all. None of the men you’d just fought beside appeared to be hurt or in need of further healing, seeming more winded and worn out than injured, their attention all falling onto a shared point; you. It was as hard to look at them as it was to look at your father, the weight of your own actions feeling so heavy that it was all you could do just to remain standing. The ground was littered by the ashes of innocent lives, people who had died because Dio had chosen to use your father as a lesson, a sign of what could happen when he was not obeyed.
“The sun is about to come up.”
You looked to Joseph when he spoke to you, his remark helping you to take note of how much lighter the sky had gotten. Glancing behind you revealed a growing brightness across the far off horizon, day approaching as surely as Mr. Joestar had claimed. The realization of what time it was had your father fighting harder to free himself of Hermit Purple’s unyielding clutches, panic widening his eyes, and it broke your heart to see him so afraid. After the calm obedience he’d shown since you’d reunited with him back in Egypt, molded by Dio’s influence, it was agony that seeing him look frightened was the first time he seemed even remotely like his own person again.
“Y/N, sweetheart, you have to make him let me go! I can’t be here when the sun comes out, honey! It’ll kill me! You know that, don’t you? You don’t want your papa to die, do you? Come on now, tell him to let me go!”
It felt like he’d turned one of your own Stand abilities back on you, like he’d shoved something sharp directly into your heart as he pleaded for his life. Your throat started to burn, more so when you swallowed to try and make the feeling go away, blinking away the threat of tears that made it feel like your vision might blur. Crying at that moment wasn’t an option, not in the moments which might very well be your father’s last.
“He won’t be able to survive the sunlight, young lady. It will kill him, just as he says.”
You looked at Joseph, hesitant and afraid, knowing that you had to ask a question that might very well have an answer you didn’t want to hear.
“Is there any way to reverse what Dio did to him? Is there some kind of cure?”
Joseph’s somber expression would have been answer enough, but you listened for the words anyway.
“No. I’m afraid there’s not.”
You turned away, covering your face with both hands as you fought against the desire to cry even harder. It was a misery you hadn’t experienced since you were a child, when you’d said your final good bye to your mother as she slowly slipped away in her hospital bed. The fact that it wasn’t a tumor taking your father from you, but rather the actions of one uncaring bastard, made the pain that much worse.
“Y/N, the sun’s almost up! Hurry up and help me! Save me! That’s what you wanted to do all along, wasn’t it?! You were going to kill them to keep me alive! Don’t you want to save me?!”
Hands dropping, you saw the first true hint of the coming sunrise and knew what you had to do. He wasn’t the man he’d once been and he never would be again. You wanted to save him, but you couldn’t, not anymore, and the only thing you could do to make things right for him and the people he’d killed, was to pay the price with your own grief.
You looked back at him, facing him for the final time.
“All I wanted was to keep you safe. I’m so sorry I couldn’t. I love you, dad.”
He screamed out your name as you stepped aside, your body offering no shield to him, and as sunlight filtered into the clearing, your father turned to cinders within the violet binding of Hermit Purple. You didn’t move or look away, forcing yourself to witness every second that signified your father’s demise, and you didn’t dare to move until the wind carried his ashes off into the distance. When every tangible trace of him was gone, you willed yourself into moving, looking around the clearing until you found the stone beside which your belongings resided. You headed towards your personal effects feeling neither numb nor overcome by the sadness you carried inside, every step which propelled you onward instead brimming with something else.
An unwavering desire for revenge.
All of them felt accurate and you were if anything thankful to not be bowled over by your grief. Letting yourself cry would only make it harder to get a move on and work your way back to wherever Dio might be hiding. The others joined you as you picked up your things, shouldering the small backpack that carried your money, toiletries, and the like.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to Cairo. I have no idea where the hell Dio tends to bunker down, but I’ll search the whole city if I have to. He manipulated me and my father and turned us both in to monsters. The only family I had left is gone because of his involvement in our lives. I’ll be damned if I let him get away with that.”
You let your eyes glance over each one of the men you’d come to kill and inevitably fought beside, expression softening as you regarded them, guilt a feeling you didn’t know that you would ever be able to shed.
“I know it doesn’t count for much coming from me, but I’m sorry.”
Joseph, not yet done with speaking to you, took a step in your path before you could make to leave, and though your knee-jerk reaction was to be annoyed, you let that feeling simmer. After everything you’d attempted earlier, hearing him out was just the bare minimum of what you could do to make amends.
“You don’t owe us an apology. Dio is the one at fault for everything, not you. If, however, you feel that you need to make things right then why don’t you come with us?”
He cracked a smile that was far too jovial and easy-going after everything which had only just transpired. The sight of it and his suggestion alike were both so baffling you couldn’t stop yourself from gawking at him as if he’d suddenly claimed himself to be a talking land crab. Was he off his rocker? What person in their right mind would so readily offer to let an enemy, reformed or not, join their party?
“We have the same goal. We want to eliminate Dio as much as you do. There’s not a person standing here in this clearing who hasn’t been negatively impacted by that bloodsucking piece of garbage. Not only is it safer to travel in a group, but your Stand has healing capabilities that would be very helpful to us. I think you’d be as much of an asset to our team as we could be a help to you. Strength in numbers, young lady.”
“You don’t care that I planned on killing you? Not being able to follow through is a moot point. The intention was still there.”
“Hey, that doesn’t really mean anything. Kakyoin and I did the same thing.”
Polnareff made his way closer, draping his arm over your shoulders, the gesture one that suggested a level of comfort and familiarity you did not feel fit the situation. When you shrugged the limb off as gently as you could, he simply took it in stride, going over to Kakyoin to do the same thing to him instead. Unlike yourself, the redhead allowed it and he even managed to smile, appearing to be very much accustomed to Polnareff’s touchy mannerisms.
“Miss, you know as well as the rest of us that Dio’s power and influence is not something that can be so easily overcome. If you want to take him to task for the crimes he’s committed, it would be easier to do so with friends at your side.”
Avdol’s words seemed to finally put an end to your wavering. As much as the companionship they offered did not feel deserved or earned, you knew that there was far too much sense in their logic for you to ignore it. Going off on your own, against however much opposition Dio might send to prevent you from making it back to Egypt, would likely only result in your untimely demise rather than any real hope of victory. If the group of crusaders standing before you were all willing to let you follow alongside them, become an added point of strength to their team, then the best thing you could do was agree.
“Are you all sure about this?”
The only two who hadn’t yet said anything to convince you, Kakyoin and Jotaro, deserved to interject if they found it necessary. One gave you a smile and a nod, the other shrugged his shoulders like it didn’t matter to him either way. Your question answered and your path decided, you readjusted the weight strapped to your back while the one inside your chest stayed firmly in place.
“All right. I’ll stick with you guys.”
WIP sketch of Jotaro & Jolyne <3 Commission Info | DeviantArt | Twitter | Pixiv ⋆⋅★⋅⋆ DM me about commissions ⋆⋅★⋅⋆
they would watch mandela catalogue at night and then they couldn't sleep until 4 am, but both would pretend that they had slept enough and would avoid any telly