#reminder pucci was a child when he met dio

[bad-draws-jojo]

Can we like, as a community, like stop shipping dio and pucci together? I hate that a proship is one of the most popular ships in the Fandom.

So here's you're daily reminder that pucci was a 15 year old when he met dio 🤠🤠. "But Bad, it's different. In that time it was legal/its legal in Japan ☝️🤓. " If you think this way, honestly just peel your skin off. Whatever the laws are or were it doesn't matter💀💀 (also why are you defending a 15 year old dating a 100+ year old man?????)

Not just this, I think it really ruins pucci's really great character dynamic. I've seen multiple people literally say that pucci's motivation was "boo hoo jotaro killed my boyfriend 😖" , When in reality, his character motivation is wanting to make up for the loss of his sister by helping dio, who was a MENTOR figure, in his plan. And when Dio died, Pucci felt that he needed to finish what Dio started to give humanity as a whole a better life, in his eyes at least.

Also, I just want to mention this, people always point out the bed scene when they defend this ship, and I just wanna ask, have you like, never hung out on the bed with your beastie before??? I do that all the time doesn't mean I'm in a relationship or anything.

"But Bad, dio was shirtless that obviously me-"

Dio is literally ALWAYS shirtless?????? He had his shirt off the ENTIRETY of part 3 except for the end???

Anyways tldr diopucci is a VERY bad ship, and I'm tired of pretending it's not.

I'm more of a diopucci bestie dynamic fan if im being honest.

#jjba #jjba ship #diopucci #reminder pucci was a child when he met dio #please stop #pucci is an ace icon and you can’t change my mind #why would you ship this when dionilla literally exists???? #jojo's bizarre adventure #dio brando #stop it get some help

[softlimefluff]

Hello there, friend! I absolutely love the ask meme prompts and I would love to ask for more than one however, I do not want to pester you and stress you out. May I have 💐 for SDC DIO? Thank you, love! 💕

No worries! It’s been a week ™, but I’m finally getting through my inbox! 😘 (feel free to send in more via separate requests though!!)

Ooh, okay! I’ll give a blend of vampire Dio/Mudad with these, because I think Dio would be his evil, fabulous self, but also think could also make a good father if he really tried!

💐 Family/Kids HC

-Dio grew up with the idea that he’d always have his own family and lineage—he wanted to surpass everyone. How better to do that than to have a whole family at his disposal and control?? (also he grew up in victorian England where that was the expected thing to do).

-Actually getting to that point was harder than he realized, however. Once he had taken on his vampire form through the stone mask, his bloodthirst often overwhelmed his desire for all else. Any time he was intimate with anyone, he’d end up draining all their blood soon after, negating any chance for a lineage. 

-It wasn’t until he met Enrico Pucci that he finally had a vision for transcending his own carnal desires. Pucci reminded him of the fragility of humanity and power of family. Dio, now with Jonathan Joestar’s powerful and beautiful body, still had the power to reproduce—the head/mind from an immortal, but body fighting to remain human. Even if the body would produce a Joestar influenced line, Dio had finally found his desire for a lineage too powerful to ignore.

-While we know he had a few children like Rykiel, Haruno/Giorno, and Donatello, if Dio could learn to control himself, he would probably make an alright, if strict father. His resolve is strong and if he made up his mind, nothing could stop him. When he finds you, there’s a new fire behind his eyes. You are the one he wants to start a family with.

-Don’t expect this to be an easy setup though. You both will have to make adjustments and concessions with one another. Dio still has to drink blood and he’s often with many partners. It would be something more like ancient kings who had wives and a harem. Dio’s blood harem would shift from night to night, but you would be the constant in his life—his companion and lover. 

-At times, Dio would have to spend nights away from you to protect your life. He values you and wants to keep you alive, so he throws a night away with a blood donor and returns, only when he can control himself again. You find this oddly comforting and sweet, knowing that he does what is necessary to keep you safe from himself.

-When you find yourself pregnant, Dio is proud (ngl this man probably has a bit of a breeding kink) and will show you off to everyone, especially as you start to show. He wants EVERYONE to know that you’re carrying HIS child. He’d get even more overprotective of you during that time.

-Dio’s not very good with the baby tbh. He’s annoyed with the screaming and frustrated with the mess. The only way he begins to empathize is the baby’s need to feed. You’d find him sitting, giving the child a bottle, the quickly returning them to you if they started to cry. You have to work with him for a while to get used to caring for them.

-When they get older, Dio has a very strict set of rules, expecting them to act like a gentleman from a young age. Somewhere within himself, however, he remembers the pain of growing up with Dario and softens, slightly. He realizes that along with his strict measures, a degree of affection is necessary for growing things to thrive. 

-He determines within himself to put in an effort, offering praise for a job well done, a supportive pat on the shoulder, or getting everyone together for a movie night. It’s odd to see at first, after so many years of his usual behavior, but you can see that Dio’s trying to be the best Mudad possible.

#hcs #jojo headcanons #dio brando #sdc dio #mudad #family #kids #jjba #alana1101

[nomettesbizzareadventure]

zero one three / pt. 2

JJBA, Gen, Mudad, AU

In the year 2000, Enrico Pucci encounters Giorno while visiting Italy and hatches a plan to raise Dio from the dead. 

Part 1. 

San Domenico Maggiore is a church that borders on the divine. The pews are flanked by pillars of blue and white marble, as if the churchgoers were seated among the clouds under the golden roof of god’s radiance. Dio’s eyes were a gold like this, and his hair shone like this altarpiece, and his skin was cool and white as marble, smooth and inhuman. Like the David, he was made in the image of human perfection. Little Giorno is another verse from the same hymn, a cherub where his father was a seraph.

It stirs something awful in Pucci to see Giorno. He is such a little thing compared to what Dio was, and yet it is already obvious that he is destined for magnificence. In him, Pucci can see the last living piece of Dio’s legacy, and it pierces him through with longing. He wants to feel Dio’s skin against his own. He wants to hear that low, purring voice again.  There has not been a week since Dio’s death where Pucci did not long to join him in martyrdom, to die and be by his side. Why were so many others permitted to die with their lord, and Pucci alone forced to live on in this miserable world?

He knows the answer, of course.  It was Dio’s will. Dio placed his fingers on Pucci’s face and called him my beloved, my most faithful friend, and sent him away. Pucci was entrusted with a legacy, and he will carry it, even if it burns a hole in him.

Lord, he prays. Give me strength to bear my longing for you. I will protect your child with everything I have.

The sun is setting, the last dim lights of day filtering in through the high windows, and Giorno has arrived. His golden hair shines like a flame, like an angel in the house of god. He walks down the aisle, his stand shimmering in the air behind him. Another child would be afraid, but Giorno is composed. He stops a few steps from Pucci, then wordlessly holds out his hand, displaying a single gleaming coin.  

“Gold Experience,” he says, his soft voice echoing in the empty cathedral. The coin in his hand twists and shakes, becoming a single small ladybug. The insect trundles across Giorno’s hand, stretching newly made wings, then takes off, a spot of red in all the celestial blue. Pucci waits a moment, unsure if there will be anything else, and just as he opens his mouth to speak, he sees the pews shake and twist. The seats shudder, and then begin to grow, and in no time the wooden slats have transformed into a forest of trees. The prayer books in the pews rise upwards and become birds, the footrests grass and flowers. From nothing, life.

A verse comes to Pucci’s mouth and he recites it from long habit.

“And on the fourth day, God said, ‘‘Let the water teem with living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth across the vault of the sky.”

A small, sad smile crosses Giorno’s face.

“Let there be life,” he whispers, and in a moment all the forest and birds are gone, reverted to their original form.

“Is the transformation permanent, Giorno?” Pucci asks.

“Yes, if I want it to be,” Giorno says quietly. His stand strokes a hand through Giorno’s hair, watching Pucci expressionlessly. There is the image of a ladybug emblazoned on its hand like a crest. Pucci smiles.

“Do you know the significance of ladybugs in Catholicism, Giorno?”

“No,” Giorno says, his small face turned upwards.

“The ladybug belongs to our Lady of Sorrows, the Virgin Mary. In the middle ages, when all the world was treated as a text to be interpreted, the ladybugs were a daily reminder of her suffering and grace.”

“My mother is hardly the Virgin Mary,” Giorno says contemptuously.

“These are not your mother’s ladybugs, are they? They are yours. Like the Virgin, you are blessed with the ability to create life on your own.”

“Your stand, priest… what does it do?” Pucci beckons Whitesnake with a wave of his hand, then walks to the reliquary. His stand brings forth the disc that Pucci hid in the altarpiece. It seemed fitting to keep his discs with the other relics.

“My stand, Whitesnake, can extract a person’s memories,” Pucci tells Giorno. “Would you like to see your father?”

Giorno’s eyes go wide for a moment, and then the guarded expression returns to his face, even stronger than before. He wants it badly, and his own desire makes him wary.

“I first met him in a church like this. I was in the seminary then, and not much older than you. I was making my rounds, and I saw him lying beneath one of the pews…” Pucci’s words can only distantly approach the divine shock that he felt on that day when he first encountered Dio in the church. How can a man encapsulate the sacred in words? Dio’s lips were red, his eyes golden, and he moved with the careless grace of a wild animal. When Pucci took his shoes off later that day and found his foot healed, he was shocked, and yet part of him was not surprised at all. It only seemed right to him that he should come away from such an encounter transformed.

He finishes his description of the encounter, then beckons Giorno towards him. This time, Giorno willingly steps forward.

“Do you want to see?” Pucci asks again.

“Yes,” Giorno says. The words sounds as if it has been ripped from him. His little voice is a hoarse whisper. “Yes- I do.”

Pucci gives the command. It is not for Giorno to see all of Pucci’s history with Dio, their long nights together, and all of Pucci’s embarrassed teenage longing- but this memory, this moment, he can share. His stand places cold fingers on Pucci’s forehead, and pulls, and he feels a piece of his soul rattle loose from his body. He has felt this once before, and once only. He gave his soul to Dio in Egypt, to show him the depths of Pucci’s devotion, and he will give his soul to Dio’s son, now.

The disc tugs free, and for a moment Pucci is blank, mind unmade, like the dirt of the earth in the moment before God gave it form. He exhales, momentarily unmoored. His knees are weak. He stumbles, and Whitesnake grabs him and lays him roughly on the altar, then glides forward to complete its task.

Giorno raises his head to receive Pucci’s memory. His stand grasps his face, holding him steady, the physical manifestation of Giorno’s conviction. He is cautious, yes, but not afraid. Whitesnake extends his palm like a priest at benediction, and for just a moment the light catches the edge of the disc like a halo. The memory slides in. Giorno’s breath leaves his body in a long, low sigh. His eyelids flicker, and he slumps backwards into Gold Experience’s waiting arms.

“Oh,” he says, and nothing more.

It is quiet in the cathedral. Pucci lies sprawled across the altar-table and tries to catch his breath. There are tears pooling at the edge of Giorno’s eyelashes. Night has fallen. The cathedral is lit by the flickering lights of the chandeliers, and their soft, dim light turns the scene into something like an old dream.

Pucci’s chest aches. He hadn’t realized how much it would hurt to remove his memories, how empty he would be without Dio. He inhales, trapped within the prison of his empty body, and waits. It’s all he can do. One, three, five, seven years in waiting, in crawling beneath the crushing pressure of his own grief. But now, after all this time, events are in motion again. Pucci’s faith will surely be rewarded if he remains faithful. He forces himself upright and walks towards Giorno on shaky legs.

Giorno’s eyes open and fix on Pucci.  

“I understand,” he says, simply. “Take me with you.” He reaches out and grasps at Pucci’s robe, his little hand pale against the gleaming darkness of the fabric.

“Can you do it?” Pucci whispers. “Do you think you can bring him to life?” A look of determination forms on Giorno’s face, hardening his soft, childish face.

“Not yet,” he replies.

#mudad #enrico pucci #giorno #giorno giovanna #a nomette writes #I did not come to this fic expecting to get invested in pucci and giorno's relationship but here we are #but like the moment pucci saw giorno he was like 'i would die for this child' #same pucci. same #also sorry but the epilogue to three card spread has been delayed because i realized i'm way the fuck behind on my christmas fics #god help me #i'm going to need The World just to finish everything before the 25th