#they have embedded their fortune telling gems in their hands and use them for a healthy dose of mind control and future sight

[stressed-sock]

hi hello this is melra the keeper of secrets!!

giant eldritch librarian that used to be human - now runs an almost sentient library containing all lost knowledge

oh also i really wanted to get her story out so it's all under the cut ^-^

~*~

her village needed to sacrifice someone to be the next keeper of the library and being an orphan and outcast, she was inevitably chosen.

the village elders take her to what looks like the ruins of a temple and force a mask on to her face - she tries to resist but it's firmly latched to her face. then with a flash of blinding pain she starts to transform into the form shown above, and as she slowly stands up in her new form, several things hit her at once.

for one, most of her memories are gone - she looks down at the tiny specks that are the village elders and feels nothing. in the back of her mind she feels like she should've felt something like disgust or resentment. but she doesn't.

looking up once more, she raises her hand in an almost instinctive motion, and with a deep rumble, enormous walls near overflowing with books start to rise out of the ground. the elders, stunned, try to stumble away as fast as they can but are crushed by falling debris.

finally there's a moment of complete silence as even the birds fall quiet.

~*~

years turn into centuries as the new keeper tends to the library. when she's not busy, she takes to learning vast amounts of knowledge as she whiles away her years.

sometimes there's the occasional adventurer, alleviating her boredom and loneliness if only for a moment. of course, they never stay long, only searching for the knowledge she guarded.

later, she takes to sculpting stone figures, giving them life with enchanted gems so that they can help her with her duties and also keep her company.

however, one fateful day, a new adventurer strides in with an ugly arrogance marring his otherwise handsome face. he was a knight, if his shining armor had anything to say about it. his helmet was casually nestled in the crook of his arm, revealing his teal hair tied back in a messy bun.

the keeper greets him and he ignores her, merely demanding that she give him the knowledge he wanted. she pauses and tells him the rules as she always does: a secret for a secret - the knowledge must be traded for something equal in value.

the knight scoffs and draws his sword, a massive blade almost his height. he brandishes it saying that if she died there would be no one to stop him.

this one is different, the keeper belatedly realizes. and though she isn't quite a fortune teller, she can still see that his greed will be his downfall.

another thing she recognizes far too late is the knight's speed and skill. as her hands glow with magic to defend herself and her library, he's already leaping into the air, bringing his blade down with a resounding crack! as it embeds itself into her mask, large cracks forming at the site of impact.

the keeper staggers back, and the knight grins still holding onto his sword as she falls. a splatter of her golden ichor is streaked across the side of his face.

she collapses to the ground and doesn't feel much after that (though she hadn't felt much to begin with).

she doesn't know what happens to the knight - but she can at least find solace in the fact that he has lost any chance of getting what he sought. he would find each and every one of the countless books incomprehensible.

~*~

after who knows how long, the keeper wakes up and is met with darkness.

she realizes there is something on her face, and she reaches to get it - a mask apparently - off.

momentarily blinded by the sudden onslaught of light, she blinks, waiting for her eyes to adjust before realizing that she has eyes to blink with and a mouth to speak and all of the other normal features human faces have.

the mask sits innocently in her lap, and she sees the perfectly smooth surface interrupted by jagged cracks. a familiar gem is embedded in the largest, and she finally takes a good look at her surroundings.

the enormous library she's in looks familiar yet not. it feels like yesterday when she had been dragged here and yet there's a gaping hole in her mind where she knows memories should be. she is normal person size, she then belatedly realizes, and looking at how the ceiling seems to stretch infinitely upward, she feels incredibly small.

glancing around, she sees a gaggle of people having a lively discussion at the base of what she instinctively knows is her old desk.

to her right, there's someone with his back turned, rummaging through a bag. he turns and his eyes widen.

"you're awake!"

"i... guess i am," she replies.

the stranger pauses, then smiles.

"i'm elliot. what's your name?"

the keeper - no that's not her name, not anymore - looks down at the mask again, finger tracing the gem embedded in it.

"melra. my name is melra."

#ocstuff #solis - original story #myart #rambles #sorry if the writing isn't too great lol

[creamecream]

“Oh? you?...you...ruined my dress...I didn’t like that...”

#bad end au mirsa because why not #you know how alverio makes husks? mirsa makes zombies pretty much #they have embedded their fortune telling gems in their hands and use them for a healthy dose of mind control and future sight #the skin around them is red and angry those gems clearly aren't supposed to be *in* their hands #their outfit is supposed to look like they were at a ball when like this whole thing happened #and they never bothered to change out of their ballgown and it just got more and more ruined #they got so many rips and tears and such to the point their skirt just kinda fell off #and they're left in their crinoline and maybe some tattered skirt fabric that got stuck to the crinoline #they're kinda fighting over people with alverio since they both need energy that they'd get from human life #glaring at each other over a plate of hot wings #what does that mean? I have no idea my mind just screamed it #the arcana #infected plague doctor au #custom apprentice #apprentice mirsa

[aftermathfanfic]

Part 2, Chapter 5

“Finally!”

Louie jumped as he opened the manor’s doors, seeing a blur of pink and denim leap from the main staircase beyond.

“Scrooge called a family meeting for the next adventure!” Webby shouted excitedly as she ran up to him. “Come on, we’ve been waiting for you!”

“I just got home, could I have, like, fi-VE!”

Louie’s protests went ignored as Webby grabbed his hand and dragged him into the living room. A bunch of old tomes were laid open on the table, Scrooge standing before them. Dewey and Huey were sitting on the couch, Dewey scrolling through his phone idly on one side while Huey seemed to be poring over one of the books before him. He also noted that Della, Donald and Mrs Beakley were also in the room, a fact that gave him momentary pause before Webby pulled him into the room.

“Ah, Louie!” Scrooge said. “We were waitin’ for you to arrive.”

“So I’ve heard.” Louie grumbled as Webby let go and skipped over to the couch ahead of him. He followed her and sat in the armchair next to them. “Alright, what’s the sitch? What’re we doing?” He asked lazily.

Dewey looked up from his phone with a raised eyebrow. “I mean, you already know. Scrooge passes it by you first.”

“I know where we’re going, just not what we’re doing.” Louie replied. “I want it to be a surprise, y’know?”

“Alright, let’s pay attention now.” Scrooge told them. The kids put down what they were doing and looked at him – save for Webby, who had been looking up at him in anxious anticipation the whole time. He exhaled in dread, then told them, “Our next adventure’s takin’ us somewhere I thought I’d never have to take you to…”

His eyes narrowed as he said ominously, “Paris.”

Huey and Dewey immediately gasped in awe, while Webby’s eyes widened. “Pa- Paris? Lena’s been to Paris!” She cried excitedly.

When everyone looked at her, she quickly stammered with a blush, “N-not that’s important, just- uh… just saying.”

“…Uh-huh.” Scrooge replied with a knowing look. “Well, dash any expectations you have now. We’re not goin’ for a holiday, we’ll be on a mission to retrieve… the Talisman of the Tarrasque!”

He opened up one of the tomes to a picture of a circular amulet, jewels embedded around a larger, central gem in its centre. The illustration was surrounded by glyphs and runes of differing sources, as well as notes, handwritten in cursive French.

“Ooooo. Ominous.” Louie remarked.

“The tarrasque?” Huey frowned. “I’ve… never of that before.”

“I’d be worried if you had, lad.” Scrooge said gravely. “The tarrasque is-”

“Oo! I know what it is!” Webby piped up.

“You do?” Huey asked, turning to Webby.

“You do?” The adults said in collective surprise.

“Yep!” Webby replied brightly. “It’s one of the monsters in Tombs and Trolls!”

Everyone stared at her with blank, uncomprehending stares.

“…Erm… in what, sorry?” Scrooge asked confusedly.

“It’s like, this pen-and-paper roleplaying game I experimented with back in ninth grade.” Webby explained, pulling out her phone. “I actually ran a game where the tarrasque was one of the monsters!” She shot a dirty glare over towards Dewey. “Which someone would know if he’d played more than two sessions.”

Dewey groaned exasperatedly. “It just wasn’t my thing, Webby. I don’t know what to tell you.”

“And… you can just find it on your phone?” Donald asked doubtfully.

“Yeah, I’ve got its stats right here.” She showed her phone around. Displayed above a block of mysterious numbers and abbreviations was a picture of a bipedal, Tyrannosaurus-like creature with giant horns, long arms that ended in wicked claws, and a spined shell that covered its back.

Donald and Della stared at the picture in disbelief for a moment before turning to stare at Scrooge. “I thought you said this thing was a secret!”

“Yeah, didn’t you say it cost you a fortune just to find out what it looked like?” Della asked him.

“…Hmph… clearly, that order of druids isn’t keepin’ its secrets as well as it used to.” Scrooge grumbled. “No matter. Whatever that caricature of a colossus is in this… game of yours, its nothin’ compared to the real tarrasque!” He opened up another one of the tomes on the table, showing an illustration that looked eerily similar to the picture Webby had pulled up on her phone. “The creature is an omen of the apocalypse! Its hide is stronger than iron, so that only the most powerful of magical weapons can harm it!”

“Yeah, that’s on here!” Webby spoke up, pointing to one of the lines of text on her phone. “Damage resistance twenty against non-artifact weapons. It’s, like, the highest form of DR in the game.”

“…Right.” Scrooge cleared his throat. “Not even the strongest magicians of the ancient world could stop it. Their magics simply-”

“-Get deflected by its innate magic resistance!” Webby interrupted, pointing to another line of text. “Yep, that’s here too.”

Scrooge stared at her. “…And it’s immune to…”

“Acid, fire, disease, poison, mind magic, petrification and any effect that would change or alter its form!” Webby finished, beaming innocently.

Scrooge closed the book and folded his arms crossly.

“…The way you two are describing this thing make it sound like it’s invincible.” Huey said worriedly.

“Pretty much.” Webby replied, scrolling through her phone and pointing at another line of text. “Like, it has this regeneration ability that makes it impossible to kill through conventional means. Not even disintegration can destroy it – it’ll just regrow all of its body parts over time, ensuring that only insanely powerful magic or divine intervention can destroy it!”

Webby double blinked after a moment, realising what she’d just said.

“…Uh… does the real thing also have that?” She asked Scrooge hesitantly.

“…Aye.” He muttered.

The kids stared at him in varying degrees of wariness.

Louie leant forward in his seat. “…And we want this thing, because…?” He pressed his uncle.

“We don’t. As it stands, the beast is slumberin’ somewhere underneath the City of Light itself, and we want to make sure it stays sleepin’.” Scrooge explained. “The only way to awaken the tarrasque is by presentin’ the ancient talisman originally used to seal it.” He looked at Webby with narrowed eyes. “I don’t suppose that’s in there as well, is it?”

“Eh… It’s like, mentioned as an aside.” She shrugged.

“Just as well. Up until recently, the talisman was lost to time, and the world was much better off for it.”

“…And it isn’t anymore?” Huey asked worriedly.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Scrooge nodded, holding up a leaflet with a picture of a large, gothic building on the front. “I received this invitation the other day, to a private auction where one Victor Carbonneau will be selling artifacts, pilfered from tombs and dig sites from across the world. And one of the items on sale is the very talisman I hoped I’d never have to see with my own two eyes.”

He handed the leaflet to the kids, who each looked at it in turn. Huey looked up at Scrooge and asked, “And who’s Victor Carbonneau?”

“Not a clue. Never met the man in me life.” Scrooge replied.

“…Hoo boy.” Louie muttered as Huey handed the invitation to him. “So, I’m assuming that the plan is that we go there, bid for the amulet, get back home and shove it in the Money Bin or something?”

“Close. We shove it in the Other Bin, under the house.” Scrooge clarified. “It’s the only place it’ll be safe.”

“So…” Dewey spoke up. “What I’m hearing is that this is gonna be, like, a chill adventure?”

“…Where did you get that from?” Della asked bemusedly.

“What? Uncle Scrooge is the richest duck in the world!” Dewey replied, gesturing towards the elder duck. “Who’s going to outbid us?”

“Dewey, we’ve received a private invitation to the house of a guy we’ve never met.” Louie told him, holding up the leaflet. “This is one-hundred-percent a trap.”

“Pfft.” Dewey waved his hand. “We’ve been in plenty of traps.”

“We cannae-!” Scrooge rubbed his eyes and sighed, turning to Donald and Della. “Would ye?”

The two siblings looked at each other with pensive glances, then stepped forward. “Look…” Della began. “We were all talking, and… we decided that because there’s so much at stake, we need you boys to agree on a few things as a precondition for this adventure.”

“You have to take this seriously.” Donald added, his arms crossed and his expression grave. “Mrs Beakley has come up with a plan, and if you want to come along, you have to follow it exactly. That means no showboating, no last-minute changes…” He turned to look pointed at Louie. “And no scheming.”

Huey nodded obediently. “Okay.”

“…Fine.” Dewey grumbled, folding his arms.

“I will do my best.” Louie said evasively.

“…Alright.” Donald turned to Mrs Beakley. “Bentina?”

Beakley nodded, wheeling out a large whiteboard, on which were numerous illustrations, blueprints and diagrams. “Right. Here’s the plan-”

“Uh, before we get into it,” Webby interrupted, putting her hand up. “Can I, uh… can I invite Lena? For purely strategic reasons!” She insisted at Beakley’s raised eyebrow. “You know, because she’s magic and she can… um…”

“Webby, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.” Mrs Beakley said warily. “The more moving parts in this plan, the less control we have over…”

She trailed off as Webby’s expression fell.

Scrooge cleared his throat, prompting Beakley to glance toward him. “A sorceress would be useful if things get out of hand.” He pointed out.

Beakley sighed relentingly. “…Very well. You can invite her.”

Webby beamed.

---------------------------------------------

The moment Mrs Beakley had finished explaining the plan, Webby bolted off to her room and called Lena.

“No way! Paris?” Lena gasped when Webby told her.

“Yeah!” Webby almost shouted in excitement. “And we’re going to be doing some, like, spy stuff at a secret auction to secure an ancient amulet that could awaken a magical monster from underneath the city!”

“That’s awesome! You are going to love Paris.” Lena told her. “Like, aside from all the ritzy stuff, there’s just… so much history there. There are buildings from like, five-hundred years ago that are still standing, and the catacombs have this, like, classically macabre feel to them… I can’t believe you’ve never been before!”

“Yeah, me neither.” Webby chuckled. She hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Hey, you’ve been to Paris before, right?”

“Oh, yeah, like, years ago.”

“Yeah, cool, um… cause, uh… I was wondering if… um…” Webby swallowed her nerves, then said quickly, “I was wondering if you wanted to come with us!”

“Uh… like, on the adventure?”

“Y-yeah! Cause, uh… you know the city better than any of us!” Webby stammered. “And you have your magic, which would be super useful if things went wrong… not that anything will go wrong, obviously, but… you know?”

Webby shut her beak and waited for Lena’s response, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Uh…” Lena replied after a moment. “I dunno if I can… I’ve got a lot of schoolwork at the moment…”

“…Oh…” Webby said blankly.

“Yeah, so… um…”

“Yeah, that’s… that’s okay, uh-”

“I don’t wanna- it’s not because I don’t want to-”

“No, I get it, it’s school, I just-”

“Yeah, like, I would, but-”

“Nah, it’s fine, I just… Because it’s been a long time since we’ve gone on an adventure together… I just wanted to kinda… relive that, you know?” Webby murmured disappointedly.

“Yeah…”

“But, like… it’s probably, like, a super-important assignment, right?”

“…Uh… I mean…”

“…Is it… not?”

“I mean, it’s just-”

“-Cause it’s totally fine if you’re not comfortable, if-”

“-No, no, that’s-”

“-Cause like, it’s been a long time-”

“-No, you know what? I’ll go.” Lena declared.

Webby felt her heart soar. “You will?”

“Y-yeah. I mean, why not? Like you said, it’s been a while. Could be fun.”

“O-okay!” Webby stuttered, trying not to sound too excited. “Cool! So, um… we’re leaving on Saturday, um… I’ll tell you the details at school?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll have to pass it by Ty and Indy first, but they should be cool with it.”

“Alright! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“See ya, Pink.”

Webby lowered her phone and hung up, trying to control her fast, exhilarated breaths.

Then, she squealed to herself in glee, bouncing up and down in anticipation.

“Okay!” She whispered to herself. “Okay, okay, okay…”

She paced around her room in the attic, pulling her hands through her headfeathers. Her bedroom was divided into four quarters. In one was a collection of old stuffed toys, fraying at the seams. In another was a rack of medieval weapons, blunted, but polished to a sheen. In another corner were dirty clothes, strewn across the floor carelessly. The final corner was the smallest, containing her backpack and a pile of textbooks and homework that she tried not to look at.

“Go to Paris, find a nice moment, and confess… easy.” Webby murmured to herself, pulling out a crumpled pink nightgown from underneath her pillow. “Super easy. And then you won’t have to hide it anymore, and there’ll be no more teasing, or anything… who knows what will happen afterwards, but at least-”

She heard a knock from the floor below that gave her pause. “One minute! Changing!” She shouted down.

Once she had put on her nightgown, she slid down the ladder into her little private library and tucked and rolled into a landing. Then, she skipped over to the door and opened it. “Hey Louie!” She said brightly.

“Hey, Webs…” Her green-clothed cousin muttered, scratching the back of his head. “I know it’s like, nine o’clock or something…”

“Nah, it’s fine. What’s up?”

“Uh…” Louie looked up, his hands in his pockets. “I, uh… was talking to May earlier…”

“Oh!” Webby blinked in surprise. “Uh, okay…”

“…Well, ‘talking’… I was inviting her into my latest scheme, and…” Louie winced. “Uh… like, I dunno whether I caught her at the wrong time, or on a bad day, or what…”

Webby said nothing.

“But… things got a little heated, and… I might have not been one-hundred-percent considerate of her feelings…”

Webby said nothing.

“Um… so, I just need your help writing an apology, that’s all.” Louie finished.

“An apology.” Webby repeated impassively.

“…Yeah.”

“Okay. Let’s go deliver it.” She said, grabbing him by the sleeve.

“No, it’s not ready yet.” Louie told her quickly as she started to drag him. “I need your-”

“Don’t care. You’re apologising now.”

“What? No, I- I don’t even know what to say!” Louie protested. “What if-?”

“It’s going to sound disingenuous if you rehearse it.” Webby told him firmly. “Right now is as genuine as it’s going to get. Now, come on.”

She dragged him through the halls of the manor towards the wing where May and June’s room was, ignoring his complaining. As they got there, they heard the sound of conversation from behind the door, and they slowed down.

“…It’s not really an adventure, though!” They heard June say from the other side. “It’s… more of a vacation. We’ll be safe, really!”

“June, I’ve already talked to Scrooge.” Daisy’s voice sighed. “He laid the dangers out for me, plain and square, and I really just… it’s not a good idea to send you two into a dangerous situation. I don’t know why Della-”

“So?” May’s voice spoke up, sounding angry. “June and I can handle danger.”

“I know you can, what I’m saying is that I don’t feel comfortable with it.” Daisy explained. “Donald and I have a responsibility to protect the two of you, even if you don’t feel like you need it, and I’m not going to send you somewhere where you could get hurt.”

There was a pause. Louie and Webby took a step back to hide behind a corner.

“…I know I sound overprotective, but… it really just doesn’t sit right by me.” Daisy said softly. “You girls understand that, right?”

“…Yeah.” June replied quietly. “We just want to hang out with our family, that’s all.”

May remained silent.

“…We’ll talk in the morning.” Daisy told them. “Maybe we can work out a compromise.”

“Okay.” June replied.

“Whatever.” May muttered, only faintly audible from the other side.

Webby and Louie watched Daisy leave the room, closing the door behind her with an anxious expression on her face. She took a deep breath, then a long exhale before turning around and walking away down the hall, thankfully away from where Louie and Webby were hiding.

“…What a surprise.” They heard May say sardonically once Daisy was gone.

“Look, she just doesn’t want us to get hurt, you know?” June told her.

“Oh, God forbid we get hurt.” May growled. “God forbid we get a chance to put our training to use. Or that we-”

Webby sneaked up to the door, pulling Louie along with her, and knocked on its frame to a distinct melody. The conversation on the other side immediately stopped.

“Webby?” June’s voice asked.

“Hi.” Webby replied.

The door opened up, revealing a room of moderate size made small by the fact that two people were sharing it. Two desks stood side-by-side on one end of the room, one messy with papers strewn all over it, and the other with books and notebooks stacked in neat, separate piles. Before them was June, wearing dark blue overalls over a light blue shirt, her headfeathers tied into two short pigtails.

“Hey, uh… what’s up?”

“Oh, nothing much. Louie,” She pulled Louie into view as he tried to slink away. “Had something to say to May.”

June blinked in confusion. She turned toward a bunk bed in the corner of the room and asked, “…May?”

May lay on top of the bottom bed, wearing light yellow pyjamas and resolutely staring up at the bed below her, ignoring the interruption.

Webby pushed Louie into the room, blocking the door so he couldn’t get out.

“Alright, alright…” He grumbled, stumbling into the room. He sighed and rubbed his eyes before saying to May, “I’m sorry for what happened earlier, okay? I… didn’t mean to make you feel like I was trying to use you.”

May was silent.

“…Look, I know I’ve been kind of crappy to you. Both of you.” He continued, giving a brief glance towards June as he said it. “I… I find it hard to think outside of myself in the best of times, and… I dunno, I’ve been lost in my own problems for a while now… and…”

“No, I… I get that.” May said quietly, interrupting him. “But… you’ve never met us halfway. We both tried to engage with you, June tried so many times, and you just…”

“No, it’s okay.” June interjected, a timid smile on her beak. “Really, I understand-”

“It isn’t okay!” May groaned frustratedly, pushing herself up from the bed. “Stop acting like it doesn’t-!”

“Yeah, it’s- it’s not okay.” Louie told her. “You don’t have to defend me. And obviously, I’m not gonna make everything up to you two tonight, but… maybe I know how I could start?”

May looked at him with narrowed eyes. “How do you figure?”

“Well…” He looked between her and June. “You want to go on our adventures, right?”

“Yeah… but Daisy won’t let us.” June shook her head sadly. “She thinks it’s too dangerous.”

“Yeah, and good luck convincing her otherwise.” May chuckled humourlessly.

“Well, yeah, I probably can’t.” Louie admitted. He looked at May with a sly smile. “But… what if she thought you were somewhere else?”

There was a pause. All three of the girls were looking at him in surprise, and not an insubstantial amount of interest.

May leaned back, her suspicious look replaced by one of curiosity. “…Go on.”

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #dt17 #huey #huey duck #dt17 huey #dewey #dewey duck #dt17 dewey #louie #louie duck #dt17 louie #webby vanderquack #dt17 webby #scrooge mcduck #dt17 scrooge #donald duck #dt17 donald duck #della duck #mrs beakley #dt17 beakley #daisy duck #dt17 daisy #may duck #dt17 may #june duck #dt17 june #lena sabrewing #weblena #fanfiction

[gliphyartfan]

Another small bit! Just a quick one!

@yandere-linked-universe @linked-heroes @imprisioned-in-the-hole @stars-for-thought @ice-cream-writes-stuff

Time finds bugs annoying. Especially when they get close to their betters.

'Really, I'm alright!'

'It just seems a shame that a young lady like yourself would be alone like this.'

'I'm waiting for my friend.'

'You've been here for some time, let me keep you company just to be safe.'

'No thank you, and please don't touch me.'

'You-ack!'

'What seems to be the problem?'

' Link!' Time raised an eyebrow at his name, immediately on alert.

He had been searching for her after the crowd swept her away, it was only luck that he managed to find a merchant who had spotted someone with her description heading the opposite direction from the others.

And what does he find when he reaches her?

An insect that dared act familiar with her.

Now, normally he would just take her away without a word,

But it was his name that caught his attention.

She never used their proper name when in another hero's era to avoid confusion. It was agreed that only when it was necessary was she to use their names outside of their eras or when it was simply the group around.

But here she was using it.

Which meant she was distressed enough to use it.

Which meant the insect whose wrist he caught was a threat.

Threats were not wanted near their angel.

'I've been looking for you (y/n),' he said gently, reaching out with his other hand and brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face.

'I got lost...' she mumbled, looking down in embarrassment.

'Well now I found you, that's all that matters.' And really, it was all that mattered.

He found her, so she was safe.

He smiled at her, and only after she looked back up and smiled at him did he finally look at his struggling captive.

'And why were you bothering her?' He asked, not even phased by way the insect pulled at his hold.

'I didn't know she was with someone!' He answered with a strained voice as the grip on his wrist tightened.

'That's a lie!' (y/n) exclaimed, glaring at the bug, more confident now that he was there. (As she should.)

'I told you three times I was waiting for a friend! You just wouldn't leave me alone!'

At least Time could tell the others that the slime of a man had three chances to escape punishment. Shame the fool of a man didn't listen.

'How was I supposed to know-Urk!!' The insect tried to pull his wrist free, but Time simply tightened his grip further.

'If she told you she was waiting for a friend,' he said coldly. 'Then it stands to reason that she was waiting for a friend, and I'm here, so she was telling the truth, understand?'

'Y-Yes sir!' Time stared at the insect for a moment, watching as he struggled against his grip, before letting go.

He and (y/n) watched as he fell to the floor, gripping his wrist, scrambling to his feet and running off into the alleys.

They watched him disappear before (y/n) sighed in relief.

'That was annoying.' She mumbled, rubbing the back of her neck.

'And this is why we stick together.' Time said sternly, relaxing the moment her eyes looked up.

'I know, I'm sorry.' He huffed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

'All is forgiven, it wasn't your fault.' He smiled at her gently.

The smile he received was as beautiful as always.

'Let's return to the others shall we?'

'Hm!'

He began to guide her out of the alley they were in.

...But not before he glanced in the direction the insect went.

He really didn't care much for bugs.

--

Later that night

--

A man ran through the alleyways, gripping his wrist.

'That bastard! Bet she was his whore!' The shady man growled to himself.

He slowed to a walk, rubbing his wrist.

'Bastard was strong.'

He flexed his hand and decided to find someone else.

He decided to head deeper into the outer area when he heard something.

It was a deep low guttural sound.

A growl.

And it was coming from behind him.

He turned around and a massive wolf was slowly stalking toward him, teeth bared and eyes glittering under the light of the lanterns.

How did such a beast make it's way this deep into town?

The shady man took a nervous step back, then two, before darting down the alley, the beast giving chase.

He didn't know how long the wolf chased him, but a couple of turns and a few items knocked to the floor, he seemed to have gotten away.

(He didn't notice how the Wolf stopped chasing him after the first corner, staring after him before turning around and running back into the shadows)

'What a fucking day.'

He walks, catching his breath, grumbling to himself when he felt his stomach gurgle in hunger.

Deciding to forget the wolf and focus on his next meal, he scanned the night crowd for an easy mark.

He found one in the form of a youngster being picked up by the collar of his shirt by a slightly older man, wallet being flung around as the youngster flailed his arms.

'Lemme go!'

'Give me back my wallet!'

'Stop picking me up!'

'Stop stealing my wallet and I'll stop picking you up brat!'

'Stop making it easy!'

'You-!' The two began to argue, the youngster waving his arms around, the wallet in his hand slipping from his grasp and flying into the air, when it landed, the reds, purples, and blues of rupees glittered on the cobblestone.

'Look what you've done!' The older man shouted, dropping the youngster and kneeling to pick up the rupees.

'You were shaking me!'

'Brat-!'

The shady man ignored the arguing duo as he stared at the rupees in greed, but what really caught his eye was a twinkle of gold in between the blues and purples.

With barely a thought, he ran forward, and snatched the glinting piece of gold with a handful of rupees before sprinting away.

'HEY!!'

The shady man smirked as he ran back into the alleyway, the feeling of success running through his veins.

Finally, his night was turning around!

...

(He never noticed the way the two individuals picking up the remaining rupees were calmly staring at his retreating form.)

The shady man kept running until he made it back to his hole in the wall, making sure he wasn't seen.

Once inside, he opened his hand and grinned as he saw at least 300 rupees in his hand, but it was the gold glinting among the rupees that he was excited for.

It was a ring.

A ring that was covered in jewels. Even a lowly thief such as himself could tell that such a piece of jewelry was worth more than a small town could afford.

This is the score he was waiting for, this is what would set him up for life.

His mind swirling with thoughts, already imagining the things he would buy with the money he made off this one ring.

He took the ring and held it close to his face, gazing at the gems embedded into the gold.

Gazing deeply at each glinting gem.

The craftsmanship was exquisite.

It was hypnotic in way.

It was almost mesmerizing how the colors glinted even in the dark.

It was almost thoughtless how he let the rupees slip from his hand and fall to the ground.

It was rather foolish really,

How he slowly.

Began.

To put.

The ring on.

...

...

'We're back!'

'Guys where were you? You almost missed dinner!' (y/n) teased as the three missing heroes made their way into their rented room.

Warriors smirked at her. 'Apologies love, we got held up because SOMEONE tried to snatch my wallet and buy more than we needed.' Wind stuck his tongue out at Warriors.

'Stop making it so easy to steal it!' Wars playfully swatted at him, Wind dodging with a laugh and moving to take his seat next to (y/n) on the bed.

'Rather fortunate that the cooks were willing to let Wild use the kitchen.' Sky commented happily, grabbing his plate of food from Wild and sitting on his corner of the bed.

'The only good thing about this place really.' Legend grunted, sitting next to Time, his own plate on his lap.

'It's not all that bad if they were willing to let him cook.' (y/n) smiled, nudging Wind with her shoulder.

'Now what's this about a stolen wallet?'

'I assume there were no problems?' Time quietly inquired as Wind began to distract (y/n) with a exaggerated re-telling of their outing, with Warriors correcting him every other sentence.

Twilight smiled sharply. ' Rather dull actually. That reminds me.' He reached into his pouch.

'Vet can have this back.' Legend raised an eyebrow and held his hand out.

Twilight deposited the bloodied ring in his palm.

'At least you had the mind to grab it before some worthless fool did.' He sniffed, dropping the ring into his own pouch without a care.

'Wouldn't want to lose such a useful item anytime soon.' Twilight smirked, Legend snorted.

'If it goes the way it should, they should find his remains tomorrow afternoon.' Time mused, taking a sip from his cup.

'We'll be gone in the morning so it's pointless to care.' Legend huffed, turned away and focusing on the conversation and his food.

'I suppose so.' Time chuckled, he looked back at Twilight and nodded. 'Go eat, excellent work boys.'

Twilight gave a cheeky salute and took his place next to (y/n), Wild handing him his plate.

Time watched them interact, watched their angel laugh at the sailor's dramatic tale, the events of that afternoon nothing but a fading memory in her mind.

Good. Insects weren't worth her time.

Time took a bite from his plate and smirked.

Delicious as always.

#timeline two au #linked universe #linkeduniverse #yandere linked universe #lu #lu time #y/n #lu legend #lu wind #lu warriors #lu twilight

[salcreus]

What is creation but the rebirth of destruction?

Hermitcraft S8 AU where the world is an unrulable beast, and the sun betrayed the moon. Chapter 1: Existence

…

…

…

And then light. And then shapes, and colours, and textures, and the rhythm of the melodies embracing you, holding you tight. And then grass that prickles you, rain kissing you hello, And then two beings that contemplated one another, as much as one can manage when you don’t have eyes, nor awareness, nor even a heart. Those hadn’t been invented yet, after all. One existed. The other existed back. If they had mouths, they would have smiled at each other.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The city bloomed with chattering and laughter. If you paid enough thought into it, you could hear the business conversations of wandering travellers that stood near the popular fruit market of the town, full with all sorts of wooden stands and their respective owners, some with the most glamorous of covers and others more akin to glorified shoe boxes. The plaza’s floor that hosted said market was adorned with black and white stone tiles, organized to create the most intricate of patterns, there to be marveled by the odd one that would come to visit this town. Though, at the end of the day, it always became a mere background to the busy lives of the people that lived here. A fountain of a fair decent size served as the marker of the middle of said plaza, made up of sculpted nymphs without names nor story. Not that all things need a story, after all- Sometimes, existing is enough of a gift as it is. You could spot a couple sitting on top of one of the borders, spitting sweet nothings to each other as they threw a golden nugget into the crystalline waters.

There were of course other places to sit, a bit further away from the masses, paired with holm oaks that had yet to fully grow, but provided enough of a shade as it were. You can tell that whoever built this place didn’t fully think about how much space the roots would need, as any stone tiles that once were neatly in place, have now popped out into a contorted mess of waves and twists. At least the trees didn’t seem to mind all that much, as long as they got enough food. Surrounding the tiled space, were buildings of lively colours, most akin to the pombaline architecture, with the off hand neo gothic style building. How they were able to make the two work together was something that you’d ponder about later, though it is quite the lively sight to behold. Clothes hung from some of the parapets, going as far as to have rope that connected them one by one, so that they could have more space to dry them all out. At night, the windows framed with metal would glow faintly of warmth and sun, maybe even let escape a chuckle or two, but for now, the bright blue sky reigned high, and thus, the windows stayed open, a curtain peeking out from time to time.

Back into the plaza, a crowd of kids, which don’t seem to look older than 13, gather around a man like a pack of hungry dogs looking at prey, which would be a scary comparison in any other scenario- Fortunately for him, they are merciful creatures, as merciful as one can be when they are filled with undying curiosity. As for said man, nothing special popped out from his stature, except for a ruby embedded into the left upper pocket of his long brown overcoat, a stone that was only ever heard of from legends of the past. It was always warm to the touch, and it smelled faintly of burnt charcoal. Surrounding it was a small embroidery design made out of gold threads, carefully crafted but not too overbearing, letting the precious gem be the star of the show. The kids couldn’t care less about it, though, focusing on their incessant chattering of questions and inquiries. Chorus of wonder, the creativity of children is a curious, yet wonderful thing. “Alright, alright, alright, one at a time! I’m only one guy, after all. Take your turns, and I promise I’ll get to you.” He finally exclaims, with no drop of malice in his tone, though it still earned a few grumbles as an answer. Their chattering dropped to a few murmurs between each other, each child trying to figure out their own words, until a small, yet fierce little girl, with hair coloured gold waved her arm in the air, taking the pause in the conversation to ask the Master a very simple query. “What are Virtues?” And thus, the crowd began to echo it like parrots that had learned a new sentence.

“Well- How do I put this in simple terms-” Pausing, he scrunched his nose instinctively, searching his pockets for any sort of object that could aid him, soon landing on a small leather pouch that contained some redstone he kept in case of need. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do the job. “-So, you know when you want candy really badly, and you keep asking your mom for it? Or you go gather things to make some? You can be so focused on that idea, that your work pays off, and you gain a Virtue! The- uh. Virtue of making candy, we’ll go with that! I mean, you don’t necessarily need to gain a virtue to be really good at making candy, but it can be like… An unlockable option, or even a gift from the gods if you really work hard for it.” The mention of the word “gods” earns a few gasps from the fairly sized gathering of kids, and the man could already tell that they would bug their parents about this story of his later. He even almost felt bad, but then again, it was fairly hilarious to imagine what sort of shenanigans they would get up to. “So you now have this Virtue! But where is it exactly, you might ask- which I know you will- It’s stored inside each one of you.” And on cue, he perks up the pouch mentioned earlier, dangling it near the middle of his chest. “Stored, in a little container, that is kept safe and sound, only accessible to you and you alone. The most common name is Vessel, but I’ve heard other terms being thrown around, like Heart, or Capsule? The world hasn’t decided on that one quite yet, I guess.” “Jeez, that’s gross-” Another kid perked up from the crowd, this time one with hair of ash and dust, freckled cheeks hosting a daring smile that only children can manage to pull off. “Do you have one?”

“First off, mister, it isn’t that gross. I mean, it’s not like you have bits and bobs jangling on your insides. Think of it as a manifestation, transformation, uh… Water, turning into ice! Yeah, we’ll go with that!” With that remark out of the way, and an amused chuckle following it (he was very proud of that analogy! A shame that the kids’ unimpressed looks outed their disagreement with the quality of said analogy.) he puts the tiny bag back where it belongs, clasping his hands together right after, in a way a teacher would when speaking to a class. “Second off, I assume that you mean to ask if I hold a Virtue or not, since the container I talked about earlier is something that all beings have- It just happens to be empty most of the time, because it has no Virtues to hold. Again, again, doesn’t mean that you are uncool, or not- hip. Just that it’s not being used to store things. Ah, the answer to the Virtue thing is no, by the way.”

Silence. For mere seconds, silence of contemplation, assimilating every complicated word they were just taught in a short amount of time, holding onto that curiosity for dear life, because what else is dear but existence and creation, right? After that, murmurs, whispers, tiny words passed by and onto tiny people, tiny ideas, tiny questions. Big questions following soon after, big words, screaming hearts, ideas, doubts, love. Back into the dance of dog and prey. Laughter, not coming from the children, nor the man, but yes from the passersby of the plaza, marvelled at the show being performed. It’s not often that one single person was able to gather such a big crowd, after all! That honour was usually reserved for when the Deities paid a visit, which, although rare, was always a wonder to behold. “Impulse!” The shout from far ahead made the Master jerk his head towards it, soon spotting a splotch of brown and yellow waving at him, and, in return, he chuckled lightly, much to the displeasure of the children surrounding him. “I’m sorry kids, but it seems I have to go now. Whenever I pass by here again, I’ll get to all your questions, I won’t forget about it!” And, even though they played stubborn, they kindly let him through, going back into their incessant chattering of gods and Virtues, as if the man had never been there to begin with. Said man, Impulse, took the opportunity given to him, sparing one last nod and smile as he hurriedly stepped through the tiled floors of the plaza, towards the person calling him. As he got closer, he could spot some smoke, followed by the protests of a half beaten up wagon, its engines rumbling hungrily for action. Near it, was another man, dressed in the same sort of overcoat Impulse bore, though with a pair of mechanical looking glasses held on top of his head, the lenses pairing perfectly with the ruby he also carried. “So, you got everything you had to do here settled, Tango?” One redstoner chirped. “Almost, I just need to take care of some jimagathings, but they don’t have the stock for those ready just yet. Missing out on slime over from the swamp production in the eastern village, they said.” The other redstoner replied. “Well well well, what about you, big guy? Being the folk’s entertainment once again?” With that, he took the opportunity to elbow Impulse, as one does when you want to sweetly mock a dear friend about the silliest of endeavours. “Oh you know how kids are- They haven’t reached that age where schools go more in depth about how it all works, so fancy words like that must look like monsters to them. I’m just their brave dragon slayer, here to help with their adventures.” Now THAT earned a laugh from his audience, one that radiated of effervescent blaze powder, and one could only be glad that there were no carriages of TNT nor brews around these parts. “More like recruiting peeps for Etho to shove his contraptions onto! What a valiant hero you are! If you keep it up, all the children in this town are going to go around crazy about superpowers and gods.” After his remark, Tango took the chance to do one last check on the shulker boxes his old beloved machinery was carrying, making sure it was all loaded in the right sections, before getting into the wagon, proudly taking the driver’s seat. The leather cushions protested at the weight, but luckily it was drowned by the sounds of pipes hitting each other every so often. Soon after, a lightheartedly peeved Impulse followed right along, taking a few steps to reach the free seat near his friend. The interior of the wagon was predominantly a mess of paper and machinery, the spruce wood only being revealed by the occasional forgiving gap in between the clutter, but even so, it was almost a second home at this point. Each scratch and mark that had been left throughout the years contained a story embedded in it, and neither of them would have it any other way. The stories this machine could spill if it had a mouth... “Hey, teaching people redstone never hurt anybody! Too much, that is- Sides, who knows? Maybe someday they

will be so noble that they get invited over to Hermitcraft.”

Tango let out a scornful laugh at the remark, not giving himself the work of sparing a glance to his friend. Instead, he seemed more preoccupied with checking the settings and levels of the contraption, making sure it was all ready to get fired. Only when he was sure he had everything prepared is when he thought about replying to Impulse. “Tsk, what a silly name for a playground made to please Deities of all things, don’tcha think?” To that, he received a simple shrug from the “co-pilot”. “Not our business to decide what gets named what. Sides, it’s a peaceful place, that’s enough for me. Want to keep on chatting, or are you ready to go, princess?” “Please save the princess nicknames for Bdubs or I’m kicking you off the wagon.” “Then better get at it, dude! We have a long way to go until we get to the next stop.” “You’re insufferable.” A thought crossed Tango’s mind, briefly associating his words with someone more akin to Cleo or Hypno, the official manufacturers of sarcastical witty callbacks laid upon the Masters, when they were both wasted, crackling at 3 am, as they kept on trying to make the simplest of circuits come into life, or when they caused havoc upon someone’s land with their newest gadgets. But his sentence had a different taste, one of whiskey and companionship, playful bantering that they both knew the recipe of, or at least he hoped they both did. With that brief moment aside, he finally gave in, blaring the horns of the machinery, as the cogs began twisting into motion, fully waking up the beast of metal that they called a wagon. It released soft puffs of steam every so often, hardened wheels beginning to roll at their perfected pace, as Tango drove along the streets of Abella.

#cross posted on ao3 #hermitcraft #hermitcraft au #impulsesv #tangotek #ASTWP au #mcyt #salty writting #i dont like the ending but it is what it is #mentions: cleo etho hypno #oh and bdubs dhsbf #ooowowowowof this sure is something i wrote huh #i have no idea if this is good or bad but I wanted to explain what some things and bobs were and writing this is far more cute than just #ramble text #aaaaahh. #also fair warning this is block text heavy im awful at formatting so maybe this is not for you if you dont like that sort of stuff #me sorry i will do better

[alovesongshewrote]

Whumptober Day 19: Broken Hearts | Reader

Plot:  Part 3!!  Torture!!

Word Count: 3,158

Warnings:  Torture, threats, demons, possession, the demon is a mega asshole still

A/N:  Whump

Tag List:  @furblrwurblr​ @einahpetsyarcip​ @sorrels-scribbling​ @anxious-stitcher​ @alive-and-afraid​ @animedweeb333​ @douxiesdamsel​ @saroski05

Nari was not having a good time right now.  Her guardians, her protectors were dealing with some massive evil presence, and there wasn’t much she could do other than look for help with Archie.

Archie was also not having fun.  He was supposed to protect Douxie, to look out for him and make sure he was safe.  But now?  Now Douxie was anything but safe.  It was a new kind of horror, the cat-dragon decided, to watch his oldest friend get tortured in his sleep; to watch his skin tear on its own and the blood stain the sheets.  And then he had to leave him.  He had to leave his wizard, his boy, who he had watched over for almost a thousand years, to an uncertain fate.  He trusted you, of course, but this thing, this darkness that haunted you was a force to be reckoned with.  He didn’t want either of you to be hurt more than you already had been.

The two of them ran for a while until they found a payphone, which is literally the luckiest anyone ever gets in this story because those things are almost extinct, and called for help.  After that, all they could do was wait.

You were not doing any better.

You woke up restrained, tied to a kitchen chair with bonds that glowed the same blue as the demon’s eyes.  While this wasn’t the first time this had happened, it was the first time the magic burned.  Wherever it touched your skin an unfamiliar ache took hold.  That was new, it was different, and it hurt enough to make you wince.  The demon was waiting for that.  Now that you were awake, the fun could begin.

“Good morning, darling.”

You groaned a little bit, not wanting to deal with this asshole.  Unfortunately, you had no choice in that matter.

“What’s the matter?  Uncomfortable?”

“Eat a dick.”

The thing snarled, and the expression looked uncanny on your wizard’s face.  It was just so unlike him, and that reminder that he was trapped in there hurt you more than anything this demon could do.  That didn’t mean that the demon wouldn’t try.

It grabbed your face, jerking your head to face him, “Don’t get smart, now.  You don’t want poor Douxie to suffer any more than he has to, do you?”

You bit back a string of insults while trying to escape from the demon’s grasp.  That wasn’t going super well, and it only made the thing tighten his grip.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” you spat, words laced with venom.  The demon was unaffected.

“Do you want him to suffer?”

You stopped struggling and stared at the thing that controlled your boyfriend’s body.  He couldn’t be serious, could he?  Did he actually want you to say it?  

He jerked your face again, pulling it upwards, exposing your neck, “Come on, darling, we don’t have all day.  Just say it, yes or no.”

You stayed silent, incredibly wary of why exactly he would want you to say this.  In your first nightmare, he kept trying to manipulate you, telling you that if you loved Douxie you would die for him.  The situation was too similar for this to be a coincidence.

When you said nothing, the demon sighed, shaking his head.  You felt a sharp pain wherever his fingers made contact with your face.  Claws, you realized, were extending from his hand, carving into your skin and leaving shallow cuts across your cheek.  You gasped, trying to pull back, but that made things worse.  Not only did it give the monster’s talons a better chance to tear your skin, but it let you see the awful mix of demon and man that was this thing’s hand.  Simply put, it wasn’t Douxie’s.  It may have been attached to his body, but these long sharp claws were anything but human.

While you were distracted by that little abomination, the demon drew closer to you.  The hand that wasn’t embedded in your face curled around the chair, effectively boxing you in, not that you had anywhere else to go.  His figure loomed over you, reminding you that you were completely outmatched magically and physically.  You shut your eyes and gritted your teeth as the demon’s lips grazed your ear.

“If you say yes, I’ll let you go.”

Your eyes snapped open, and you turned to face the monster as much as you physically could.  Why the hell would he offer that?  To torture Douxie, probably, but this was too weird.  Before he’d based his attacks on your love for the wizard.  Why now, was he trying to get you to betray him?  You guessed it was because his identity as a demon had been revealed, forcing him to try another tactic, but that didn’t make too much sense if you thought about it too hard.  You knew that he was lying, he would never let you go that easily, the question was why?

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

You remained silent.  You weren’t going to say anything to this guy that wasn’t an insult.

“Well, you can't be blamed for that.  Here, let me show you,” he removed his claws and his hand from your face, allowing you to move your jaw again.  He moved that hand down the length of your body, and as it descended, your bonds loosened a bit and the burning subsided.  The demon pulled away from you for a moment, only to lean over your other side and push a strand of your hair back into place.  You didn’t make a sound.

“I bet you’re wondering why you get this deal,” he ran a clawless hand down your jawline, bringing it to rest on your chest, the same place he had stabbed you weeks ago.  You felt your muscles tense up as he lowered his head to rest on your shoulder.

“It’s because you remind me of my wife.  She had the same spark you do.  I don’t regret draining her, killing her slowly as I stole her power, but,” you could feel the demon smiling against you, as he paused, letting the threat sink in “There are some things I do miss.”

He kissed your neck, making you want to vomit.  You liked it when Douxie kissed you, but even though this was his body, it wasn’t him.  You were relieved when the demon stood, taking a few steps away from you.  You even relaxed for a second before he pulled out the knife.  Silver with a green gem.  It was the blade from your nightmares.

“This was hers once.  She’d never approve of it being used in this way, but she can’t exactly stop me from where she is, can she?”  he came towards you, pushing the point of the blade against your collarbone, “So, what’s your answer, darling?  Yes or no?”

You weren’t saying anything.

And it was pissing off the demon.

“Come on, darling, I’m running out of patience.”

Silence.  From both of you.

But you noticed his grip tighten around the hilt of the blade, his eye twitched, his jaw clenched.  It wouldn’t take much for him to explode.

It took nothing, actually.

“SAY IT!”  he screamed, the blade slicing through your skin, small drops of your blood hitting the wall.  You said nothing, but you could not hide your smirk.  The demon didn’t like that.  He placed the knife against your skin again, getting in your face and growling as he spoke, “Say.  It.”

You smiled then.  This may have been a powerful demon possessing your even more powerful boyfriend, but you were the one in control right now.  You said nothing.

The monster’s face went blank, and you smirked, even as he drove his blade into your chest.  It was enough to hurt, but not to kill.

He waited for you to say something, anything, but you just sat there, grinning.  He moved his blade down to rest against your ribs, demanding that you answer his question once again.  You refused, and the knife ran against your skin, breaking it and drawing blood.

The process repeated a few more times, but you never answered.  At this point, it had moved beyond refusing to respond out of fear.  If he wanted to manipulate you, the time had passed.  This was a game of defiance now, and answering meant surrender.  Answering meant death.

You could tell the demon was growing tired of this game.  Eventually, he threw the knife down and just started hitting you.  When he finished that, you were laughing.  Maybe this was just your way of avoiding the trauma that you would have to deal with eventually.  Maybe it was your way of letting Douxie know you were still there.  Maybe you had gone insane.  Either way, the monster was now slumped over your counter, screaming out of frustration.

Once your laughter had subsided, you leaned back still grinning, “You ruined my shirt.  Just, FYI.”

With a growl, the demon flew across the room, grabbing your throat again, not hesitating to squeeze this time, “You vile little-”

He cut himself off, letting go of your neck and stepping back.  You were already concerned, but the smile that spread across his face really set you on edge.

“Well, you won’t answer me, and you clearly don’t care about your own life,” he picked up the knife, “but maybe, you’ll care about him?”

He brought the blade over his wrist, Douxie’s wrist.  You started to struggle again, panic returning and adrenaline running through your veins.  The demon pushed the point of the knife through his skin, not far enough to cause any lasting damage, but more than enough to scare you.

“What’ll it be, love?”

“I-”

“Answer or he dies!”

“Okay, stop!” you cried, straining against the magic keeping you in place, “Stop it, please, I’ll answer, just don’t hurt him!”

He dropped the knife, grinning at you, “That’s all I needed to hear, darling.  Now, tell me.”

You waited until he was right in front of you.  You had never seen Douxie look so smug.  True, this wasn’t actually him, but it was still a weird experience.  This entire day had been a weird experience.  Your Douxie, the real Douxie, would never hurt you, ever.  He would never lay a hand on you, never swat you away or elbow you in the ribs or touch you when you didn’t want to be touched.  But today, his body beat the shit out of yours for hours.  Fortunately, if you got things your way, that would be over soon.  You tried to stay calm as you followed your plan.

First, you looked into the demon’s cold blue eyes.

Next, you let a few tears fall, trying to look as weak and unassuming as possible.

Then, you gave your answer.

“No.”

You waited for the demon’s response.  He smiled sadly, shaking his head, “I thought you’d say that.”

He drew closer to you, probably going in for the kill.  Whatever, it didn’t matter, what mattered was that he was close enough now for your attack.

Here’s the thing about them bindings.  They only last as long as the one doing the binding is focused on them.  When the demon had his little meltdown, you were able to free one of your hands.  It was only one of four limbs, but it was a good start.  You waited until the demon was in punching distance.

And then you just fuckin punched him.

It felt great.

Not physically, because, y’ know, hours of torture tend to make you feel like shit, but still, it felt nice.  

While the demon took a second to regain his bearings, you made quick work of your other bonds, freeing yourself quickly and getting to your feet.  You almost fell as soon as you stood, but shit, torture will do that to you, and you could deal with it later.  You needed to run first.  

So you did.  You grabbed the nearest weapon and bolted, not out of the apartment, but into your bedroom.  Sure, the demon beat you and Douxie before because you were in his domain, but now you were in your apartment.  It was over for him.  You had the high ground.

Thinking fast, you hid in the closet preparing your weapon, which was an unopened can of something.  Maybe it wasn’t great for melee purposes, but it would make one hell of a projectile.  You waited in the dark until you heard the demon outside.  You didn’t wait anymore after that.

You kicked down the closet door and yeeted the can at your boyfriend’s head.  It was a direct hit!  With a grin, you ran at the demon, tackling it to the ground and rolling away.  While it tried to get up, you slammed your fist into the ground, your magic forming a sigil on the ground and trapping the demon inside.

You stood up, breathing heavy but smiling.  But you weren’t done yet.  You needed to get Douxie back.

“Hey babe, I know you’re in there, and I’m sorry for beating you up.”

The monster growled, lunging towards you only to hit the invisible wall made by your sigil, “SHUT UP.”

You did not do that.  Instead, you kept on talking, “But I need you to come back to me.  I know you’ve been fighting him, and I’m sorry I couldn’t help you before, but I can now.”

“STOP THIS!”

“Fight him, darling, you can come back to me, I know you can.”  

Darling.  The word slid off your tongue like you’d been meant to say it all your life.  It just felt right.  It must have felt right to Douxie too because as the demon screamed, the glow of his eyes faded.  Blue turned to hazel, and your boy was back.  Behind him, smoke gathered, but you didn’t care.  Your mans was no longer possessed.  You could not stop the smile on your face as you grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the sigil.

In an instant, his arms were wrapped around you, and yours around him.  You buried your face in his chest, letting yourself relax for a second.  He was shaking and clinging to you as if he feared he would never hold you again.  That was valid.  Today was a traumatizing day for everyone.

You brought your forehead to rest against his, placing your hands on his face, tracing his cheekbones with your thumbs.  He was crying.  So were you.

“Hi,” you whispered.

“Hey.”

You let out a sob, pulling yourself closer to him, “I love you.”

“I love you too, I love you so much,” he said, repeating those words over and over, throwing in apologies pretty frequently. 

“YOU FOOLS.”

“Oh great, this guy again.” Your voice was muffled, but Douxie still heard you, smiling despite the situation.

“YOU WILL DIE FOR THIS.”

“Sure, Jan.”  Maybe it was the blood loss, but you had decided to be funny.  Also, it pissed off the demon, which was nice.

It growled again and lunged for you, and this time, the sigil flickered and faded, freeing the thing.  The monster had to take a second as he hadn’t expected that to work, but it did, and now you were in trouble.  Again.

Douxie had no time to deal with your delirious ass.  Instead, he picked you up and ran, stashing you in the elevator while he ran up the stairs to the roof.  He managed to beat the beast to the there, grabbing you from the elevator and running to the edge of the building.  He kept you behind him, trying his best to protect you.  The monster burst through the doors, now in its true form.

“(Y/N), I love you.”

“Eh, no, don’t do anything stupid.  We’re in this together,” you grabbed his hand, and smiled.  Maybe you were about to die, but that wouldn’t stop you from being a cute significant other.

“I love you, too, just by the way.”

Douxie shook his head, but he had no choice but to smile back at you.  That’s love children, that’s love.

You stretched out your hand, magic at the ready.  Douxie did the same.  

It was time to fight the demon.

It lunged at Douxie first, and he knocked it to the side with a spell.  It jumped back up, screeching again.  Now that you thought about it, you weren’t sure how your neighbours didn’t hear any of this, but you really didn’t have time to think about it.  The demon was coming for you now.  You dodged the attack, rolling under the monster and striking upwards.  It flew back, nearly falling off the roof, but it pulled itself back up at the last second.

“Hey, babe?  If we knock it off the roof, will that kill it?”

“Not sure, we’ll just have to see!”

Douxie attacked now, fighting off the darkness with flashes of blue.  You joined him, your magic whipping around the creature and throwing it, where else?  Off the roof.  Things looked good for a moment.  

Then the thing rose from the ground, knife in hand, starting in its true form and morphing.  But it didn’t turn into Douxie.  It turned into you.

And then it stabbed Douxie.

“NO!”  the scream tore itself from your throat as you ran at the demon, wrenching the blade from its grip and driving it into the monster’s heart, your heart, over and over again.

When it was dead, your face was wet with tears and blood, both yours and the demon’s.  You dropped the knife, covering your mouth and trying to keep in your sobs.

You felt Douxie’s hand on your shoulder, and you let him help you away from the body.  Neither of you could get far though.  A few minutes later, both of you were on the ground.  Your head was on his chest, his arms were around you.  From here, you could hear his heartbeat.  You wanted to look into his eyes, to make sure they weren’t blue, that this wasn’t a dream, that he was safe and you were safe, and everything was ok.

But his eyes were closed.

You just let your head drop back to his chest, and shut your own eyes.

“We did it, darling,” you whispered, “We’re safe now.  You-you were amazing.   I’m so sorry, Douxie, I’m sorry about all of this,” you gripped onto his shirt, trying to keep yourself grounded. “I love you, I love you so much.  Don’t worry, love, help is-help, help,” your words died in your throat as the world around you went black.

//

Even though you’d passed out, help was, in fact, coming.  It just took a while to get there.  

About a minute after you lost consciousness, Nari, Archie, Zoe and Claire burst onto the roof, finding a very dead demon, a dying witch, and an unconscious wizard.

Not a great thing to find tbh.

#hisirdoux x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux imagine #angst #hisirdoux #hisirdoux casperan #douxie #toa douxie #toa hisirdoux #torture #whump #whumptober #blood

[wackapedia]

Hello, My Alien! || PART 1: The Kironide Charm

Taehyung X Reader Y/n is traveling to Terran-03 to find her soulmate, Taehyung who is also from her home planet. Two aliens in one roof, what could go wrong?

Fluff, a dash of angst, crack, and alien things

  Hello My Alien Masterlist

Your eyes shift around the tiny compartment of your pod. The light indicator glowing green means that you have landed. Rather ungracefully, it seems. The display says there is 87 percent damage overall. This is fine, You tell yourself sarcastically. The transparisteel hull door ungracefully ejects itself from the pod after commanding the holocomputer to unlock. You were greeted by the blue stratosphere of Terran-03, more commonly known as Earth. Its nearest star is rising in the east, painting the sky in hues of pink and purple. Its beautiful, you think. The two stars setting on your planet never paints the stratosphere this way. The computer embedded on your arm confirms the atmosphere is safe for your species. You already know this though, as many of your species have migrated here. One of them was an acquaintance of yours. Your soulmate, specifically. He is known here in Terran-03 as Kim Taehyung. The lose soil surrounding your pod shifts, causing them to penetrate your little ship's hull. You decide to crawl out of the hole caused by the impact from your landing. Your wrist indicator alerts you of your proximity to your soulmate. He is within 4-blip radius. Popping your head out of the hole created by impact , you behold the building in front of you. It is very plain and boring, in your opinion. Nothing like the lavish buildings on your planet. You wonder what is in Terran-03 that your species decide to move here. Your bare hand reaches out to boost yourself out, only to get pricked by sharp green blades on the surface. You gasp and your heart rate leaps, alarming your wrist computer. Quickly inspecting your hand, you were relieved to find there aren't any lacerations. The computer notifies you that these are common species of earth pasture, mainly functional to convert carbon monoxide into oxygen, but are also used for decoration. Commonly known as grass. "jan-di." You say in the local language. You continue to crawl out of the impact hole, getting a breath of oxygen, freshly converted from the said pasture. You spot a tall figure, certainly human, moving about from inside the building. ------- Kim Seokjin was ever the early riser. He cheerfully gets up from bed, fluffs his pillows, folds his blankets, brushes his teeth, and heads to the kitchen for some coffee and maybe some toast. Seokjin whistles a happy tune, loads the coffee capsule and waits for it to start pouring. Its a great morning, he confirms. While waiting, he looks out of the sliding glass door, peering into the dorm's landscaped garden.   And its... not what he's expecting. The garden has been upturned, subsoil exposed and mixed among the grass. Is that a...? Before he could squeak, the figure standing by the upturned soil, a woman, was running toward the floor-length sliding glass door. ------- As you walk toward the window, you recognize the male human as one of your soulmate's local acquaintances. You command your computer to project a holo-image of your soulmate and it flashes from your wrist-embedded projector. Before you could be directly in front of him however, he lets out a scream that could be heard all the way to your home planet. ------ Seokjin fumbles with the door, securing the lock in place while screaming bloody murder, echoing throughout the dorm. The rest of the boys in their bedrooms rattle in their bones as they immediately get up, some probably kneeing themselves in the chest due to alarm and panic. Rolling down the stairs, six half asleep, half panicked, and half dressed men emerge. Hoseok was also screaming, and Yoongi was carrying a baseball bat. The woman from outside the glass door waves. Is her wrist... glowing?? Jungkook notices, and stops Jimin from calling the police. Taehyung finally bursts into view, meeting her gaze. He recognizes the writings on her holocomputer and quickly asks the boys to calm down. "What do you mean 'Calm down'?!?! There's a stranger in our dorms! She could've been a stalker and murdered us in our sleep!" Jin yells at Taehyung who continues to urge his hyungs and tries his best to explain. "She's a friend of mine..." "Real friends use the front door!!" "That's rich coming from you, Jimin." "Why is the garden overturned?" Namjoon peeks into the window. Taehyung uses himself to block everyone's view and tells everyone that he'll take care of it. You watch six males raise their voices at each other. Kim Taehyung is the only one speaking calmly. Is he not treated well here on Terran-03? Their conversation is inaudible from your side of the glass shield. Eventually, all six of them move away from the window. You don't see their faces as Kim Taehyung blocks their view with his physique and with the woven fabric drapery. You wait for a few more clicks before he slides the door open, lets himself through, and quickly slides it back in place. Your palms suddenly feel sweaty. You've rehearsed this conversation a hundred times on the way here but nothing seems to come to mind. What were you going to say? Thankfully, he questions you first. "Have you lost your way?" He asks in your native tongue. "I don't think so. I'm here to see you." You reply. "It says here you're my soulmate." You dangle the kironide charm from your fingers. It is said to be an ancient relic on your home planet. Rare and sacred, designed to speak nothing but the truth. It glows a pink hue, its gem displaying an image of the man himself, the reason you've travelled to Terran-03 for. "Oh no that's fake those things aren't real." Kim Taehyung brushes off nonchalantly. This leaves you speechless. He chuckles at your distress. "Excuse me?!" "Yeah I bought one once at a market. It said my soulmate was an audio disc. How much did you pay for that?" He motions for you to follow him, nearing your ship's impact hole. "Uh.. It is worth a fortune..." You answer, following him closely. "Aww, mine was a cheap one. Dropped it on water and the paint smudged all over. And for the ship?" He peers down at it, completely submerged into the mushy surface, the internal drives blipping unresponsively. "It was mine." You answer. "Do you have a beacon? We have to bury the ship, you see.." "Yeah I do..." You lied. Kim Taehyung leaves you staring down at your ship. That's it, you guess. That's what you get for running away from home. Stranded in a foreign planet. All alone. Your soulmate, the main reason you left home, turned out to be a lie all along. Your thoughts were interrupted by the soil being tossed at your boots. Kim Taehyung was back, holding a tool and was on the other side of the impact hole, shoveling the earth back in. "Oh? Isn't that the royal crest?" He stops shovelling. "Wait, You're royal? That actually explains getting scammed so easily." His giggle gradually builds up before dropping the tool to sit down and laugh. It took him a while to recover from his laughing fit. You swipe your fingers on your cheeks, catching the tears. "H-hey, are you crying? Look, I'm sorry.." He frowns, getting up to be next to you on the other side. "Come on, we can set your beacon up and you'll be on your way in no time, alright?" He wipes your tears with the sleeve of his shirt. You stopped yourself from thinking about how sweet of a gesture it was. "Come, I'll show you the house.." He ushers you to the building. "Wait, Its my mess. Let me just..." You sort through your backpack, rifling through your tools to pull out a replicator gun. Aiming at the brown patch, a pale blue light beams out of the nozzle, replicating the grass and overlaying them on the brown earth. The beam wears off, and the garden was now as it originally was. "Wow, you're really rich back there, huh?" Taehyung comments. The sliding door opens to reveal six of Taehyung's housemates, spying on you the entire time. "I knew it! She's like you!" The one with the doe eyes excitedly cheers. "Aish, first, Taehyung and now, you! why are your people coming over? Are you trying to take over Earth?" The man who screamed the loudest earlier asks. "Our people would do no such thing!" You answer him. "Oh good, she speaks Korean. Hello! I'm Kim Namjoon.." another man politely bows after introducing himself. "Wait, you do?" Taehyung looks at you. "Yes, I have been gifted the allspeak, since I am of royal birth." You answer in fluent formal Korean. "Well, that's a start. Everybody take a seat, this is an emergency meeting!" Taehyung announces. One of the six men who was lying on the couch was shoved off to make room for the rest. You were standing next to Taehyung when he individually points out the rest of his housemates, and then himself, by name. He explains to them that you come from the same planet, and that you will be staying with them for the time being, while waiting for your a response to your beacon. Which, by the way, was something you do not have. "So what do we call you?" The doe eyed man named Jungkook asks. You look at Taehyung, realizing that you do not have a Terran name. He thinks for a while, before looking up to ask the small crowd. "Any suggestions..?"

#kim taehyung fluff #kim taehyung #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung #taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #bts #bts x reader #ot7

[psychosistr]

Chariot’s Companions

Summary: Taking place in the Eyes of Heaven universe, Jotaro and the crusaders get sent to the coliseum alongside Giorno and his gang. What they find there is a haunting reminder of Passione’s past and a startling realization about one of the crusaders’ future.

Notes: This is the first story for my 100 Follower Giveaway, written for my little sister who has always been my biggest fan and greatest supporter in everything I do. Love you, T, happy valentines day!

Extra Note: Warning, this is a long fic with canon-typical violence for JJBA xD

Edit: Decided to start tagging my sister on the stuff I mention her in ^^” Go check her out, she’s very sweet and really intelligent, often posting stuff about Transformers and comic books: @mark-xeen

Everything seemed calmed for once on the usually busy streets of Morioh, Japan. There were a few people walking around on the main street, but not too many as it was the middle of a weekday and most people were either at work or school at this time. One of the few people walking around was a tall teenager dressed in a dark school uniform with a torn black hat and a large golden chain on the front of his jacket.

The tall boy rounded a corner behind the local convenience store and glanced around once he was out of sight of the general public. He then reached into his jacket and pulled out something rather odd: A turtle. Specifically, a turtle with an odd key embedded in its back.

The boy set the turtle down in a shaded corner behind the building before reaching down and touching its back. He was quickly sucked into the red gem embedded in the turtle’s key.

Inside of the gem was what appeared to be a hotel room. It was fairly plain with only the most basic of furniture and no bathroom, but it was still a safe enough hideout for the time being. The only downside was that it was..well..rather crowded by this point..

The boy’s name was Jotaro Kujo. He had recently found himself caught up in a series of bizarre adventures starting with the appearance of what he at first thought to be a ghost haunting him turning out to be some sort of guardian spirit called a stand that was actually protecting him. He soon became part of a world-traveling adventure to save his mother’s life when an ancient evil vampire that was an enemy of his family from over a hundred years ago stole the body of his great-great-grandfather and received a stand of his own and, in turn, caused Jotaro, his mother, and his grandfather to all manifest their stands too. On his mission to defeat the vampire, Jotaro had teamed up with others like him and his grandfather who had stands and, at the tragic cost of half of their group’s lives, they succeeded in defeating the nearly immortal vampire. Just as they thought their journey was over, though, the remaining three members found themselves caught in an entirely new adventure that involved traveling through space and time itself to stop an alternate-universe god-version of the vampire they all fought so hard to defeat and were trying to prevent him from gathering the pieces of a “holy corpse” that came from an alternate timeline and provided guidance to Jotaro’s bloodline- the Joestar family.

Along the way they gathered more allies- friends and family and other members of the Joestar bloodline, and even some alternate reality counterparts to a couple of them. The turtle they currently found themselves residing in had come from the timeline of a boy in Jotaro’s family who had a bit of an odd connection to the others- Giorno Giovanna. He was the bastard son of the vampire they were fighting, DIO Brando, who had conceived him with a woman before he had fully integrated his DNA into the body of Jotaro’s great-great-grandfather, Jonathan Joestar, resulting in a son that was part Joestar and part Brando. He was turning out to be a strong ally with a sharp mind and powerful stand.

The only thing that bothered Jotaro about Giorno and his group was that they seemed to know something about him and his friends that they had all unanimously agreed to keep quiet about. Specifically, they seemed to know something about Jotaro’s friend Jean-Pierre Polnareff. When they first met him, the group had called him “the turtle man” then quickly tried to cover it up by calling it “Italian humor”. He would have been fine if that were it, but what really bothered him was that Giorno and the others seemed to keep a cautious, almost fearful eye on Polnareff. They all seemed especially jumpy whenever he called out his stand, Silver Chariot. Narancia and Bucciarati had both flinched the first time they’d seen it come out and Giorno himself had subconsciously tightened his hand into a fist as if he was preparing to fight before forcing himself to relax.

Jotaro had no idea why they were so cautious around Polnareff and his stand. Polnareff was loud and annoying, but he was still a good man with a good heart. He was so noble that, even while under the mind-control of one of DIO’s sinister flesh buds, he’d still shown respect and consideration for his opponent- another member of their group named Mohammed Abdul- and had formed a quick but close friendship with every member of their group. Polnareff had been the only one besides Jotaro and his grandfather, Joseph Joestar, to survive the fight against DIO and his minions. As such, the three had formed a strong bond from both the fight as well as their shared grieving of their dead friends. Polnareff had sworn to Jotaro and his grandfather that, if they ever needed him, he’d come running to help them from anywhere in the world, and Jotaro knew he meant every word of what he said.

So, with all that he knew about Polnareff, it made no sense to him why Giorno and his gang would be so distrusting of him, even though they acted friendly enough on the surface. Either Polnareff was unaware of the looks the Italian group gave him, or he was just choosing not to say anything- either way, it annoyed Jotaro to have one of his only friends treated like some sort of ticking time bomb.

As Jotaro weaved through the crowded hotel-like room of the turtle’s hiding space (which was actually the doing of a stand), he found his group hanging out around one corner of the couch. His grandfather was sitting on the couch himself as he told some story, likely about one of his adventures from his youth, as usual. Polnareff was sitting on the armrest nearby, laughing loudly every now and then at a particularly funny part of the old man’s tale. Abdul (the fortune-teller that first taught Jotaro and his grandfather about stands and was the one to fight Polnareff then realize he was being controlled by DIO) was leaning against the wall beside Polnareff, listening with the occasional nod and a calm smile. Sitting on the floor facing the others was a boy about Jotaro’s age with red hair and a green school uniform, his name was Kakyoin Noriaki and he had also been controlled by DIO but had become a loyal friend after Jotaro freed him from the vampire’s control. Lastly, sleeping on the backrest of the couch by Joseph was a small black and white dog- he was a stand user named Iggy who tended to be grouchy and violent, but was still clever and had been willing to sacrifice himself to save Polnareff’s life.

Jotaro hid a small smile behind the high collar of his coat as he watched them all talking freely. While this adventure was odd and stressful, it was proving to be worth it to have their group back together again.

DIO, in his attempts to take out Jotaro and the Joestar bloodline, had used his powers to resurrect and/or control many of his family’s allies. Quite a few of the people currently in that very room had died and been brought back to life under DIO’s control as weapons against their friends. Thankfully, after using the parts of the holy corpse that they’d gathered, they had managed to break DIO’s control and save their friends from his influence.

Kakyoin, Abdul, and Iggy were all prime examples of this. It was a shock to have their friends suddenly return from beyond the grave and call them enemies, but Jotaro and the others were relieved to have them back after so much strife. Now they were all together again, fighting alongside each other and telling stories just like before. It may have been a roundabout way for it to happen, but getting his friends back had been worth the hard work he’d put in to tracking DIO’s movements.

Now, though, Jotaro was tired and needed a break before continuing the search. It was exhausting being the main one to walk around while everyone else got to rest inside the turtle-room, damn it…

Polnareff looked up at Jotaro with a grin. “Oi! Jotaro!” He waved as Jotaro took a seat beside Kakyoin on the floor. When Jotaro’s only response was a grunt that vaguely resembled a greeting, Polnareff laughed at his friend’s usual cranky demeanor. “Getting tired again already?”

“I’ve been the only one walking around for days now.” Jotaro shot back while pulling his hat down to cover his eyes, leaning back to lay on the floor and get some rest. “If one of you wants to carry the damn turtle, be my guest or shut the hell up.”

Abdul shook his head with an amused chuckle. “While we sympathize with your plight, Jotaro, I don’t think it would do much good for one of us to carry this burden- after all, none of us have any holy corpse parts and would have no direction on where to go. Perhaps you could try asking one of your relatives to take over if you need a break?”

“I’ll think about it..” Jotaro replied while settling in for a decent rest. The rest proved short-lived, though, when he felt a familiar pulsing from within his jacket after only a few minutes on the floor. “You’ve gotta be kidding me..” He grumbled while sitting up. Reaching into his jacket, Jotaro pulled out the now familiar glowing holy corpse part that had been with him throughout this particular journey. Looking around to see Giorno also holding his corpse part in his hand but no one else doing the same, Jotaro rose to his feet. “Yare yare..” He jerked his head at Giorno, motioning for him to follow. “Lets go..”

“Right.” Giorno said while rising to his feet as well, giving a quick wave to the members of his group before joining Jotaro.

The two raised their hands and were teleported back outside of the turtle.

Giorno wasn’t really one for conversation unless it was necessary, which was fine with Jotaro since he wasn’t either. He was definitely the least annoying out of his relatives, even if he did share blood with DIO. All of that meant that he didn’t really mind being around the other boy and was okay looking for the next lead from the holy corpse with him for a while-

Actually, it turned out they didn’t have far to go at all, as there was a familiar golden fissure in the ground only a couple feet away from the turtle’s resting spot. The two boys approached the portal to who knew where, but were stopped when the corpse parts physically yanked them back.

Jotaro looked down at the corpse part in his hand with a scowl. “What now?” As if in answer, it tugged him back towards the turtle ever so slightly. He noticed Giorno’s doing the same. “Yare yare..make up your mind already..”

They re-entered the turtle to the surprise of the room’s occupants, earning a few confused stares from their comrades.

Polnareff was the first to speak up, calling over to him from his spot at the couch. “Wow, that was quick! Or did you just miss us that much?” He grinned at his own teasing, enjoying the glare that Jotaro shot him.

“Shut up, Polnareff..” He grumbled as he allowed the holy corpse part to guide him. It led him over to his group and, understanding its meaning, Jotaro looked them over with a flick of his eyes. “Looks like you guys are coming with us, so get up- I literally can’t go without you.”

Polnareff grinned and jumped up to his feet. “Alright! I was getting tired of just sitting around, anyway.”

Kakyoin and Joseph stood up too, Joseph grabbing Iggy off of the back of the couch despite the growl of protest. “You’re coming too, get over it.”

Iggy’s response was another growl and an attempt at biting Joseph’s metal hand, but he calmed down after Joseph gave him a stick of gum and reluctantly allowed himself to be held as they were all transported outside of the turtle.

They were soon joined by Giorno and his gang outside, Narancia looking them over curiously. “It wants ALL of us? Wooooww, this must be a big one!”

“That can’t be good..” Fugo muttered.

Giorno joined Jotaro at the opening. “I agree with them- this is a bit strange and likely dangerous.”

Jotaro looked at the fissure in front of them seriously. “Yeah..” He didn’t like the feeling he got from this at all. At most the holy corpse usually only sent out one or two of them, never this many at a time. It made him feel uneasy but he did his best not to let it show as he stepped into the light with the others.

For a few moments, everything around him was blinding gold and he had to close his eyes until it passed. When everything finally settled down, he found himself in a familiar location.

“The Coliseum?” Trish asked from somewhere behind him while he was looking around. “Why would it bring us back here?”

He looked back at Giorno and the others, but, after doing a quick glance over them, noticed that someone who was normally very hard to miss was, in fact, missing. “Where’s Polnareff?”

After he pointed it out, everyone looked around in search of the large Frenchman.

“How..?” Abdul looked confused and worried, as Jotaro noticed he often did when it came to Polnareff. “He was right beside me when we went through..”

“It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve gotten separated going through there.” Joseph said while crossing his arms with a contemplative expression. “That’s why we had to start using the turtle in the first place- it made sure everyone stayed together..”

Kakyoin nodded in agreement. “He shouldn’t be far, though. The portals usually deposit us where and when we’re meant to be.”

“That is reassuring..” Abdul replied, though he didn’t look any less worried for Polnareff’s safety. “Still, I hope he doesn’t get into too much trouble…”

“Knowing Polnareff, that’s a pretty real possibility.” Joseph uncrossed his arms. “We’ll have to keep an eye out for him while-” Joseph stopped when he heard what sounded like metal scraping against metal nearby. “Huh? What the hell was that?”

Jotaro scowled slightly as he headed towards it. “Whatever it is, it’s probably why we’re here in the first place. We’ll look for Polnareff after we deal with it.”

While everyone was still worried about the missing Frenchman, they had more pressing matters to attend to for now- namely, finding out what brought them there in the first place.

They all rushed towards the sounds, hearing the bang of an occasional gun shot as they drew closer. When they arrived to the source, which was in the center of the coliseum, they saw three people fighting in the ancient arena.

Two were immediately recognizable as DIO’s henchmen: The lovely but conniving Mariah, and the cunning but cautious Hol Horse. Though it was very obviously them physically, there was something off about the way they were acting.

“Damn it! I can’t get off a shot like this! How the hell do you run around with all this weight?!” Mariah said while gesturing to her own top. Strangely, she was holding Hol Horse’s Emperor gun in her hand as she tried to fire it at their opponent.

Hol Horse shot her a glare as he touched the ground nearby. “Stop complaining, my chest isn’t that bad!” An electrical outlet appeared beneath his fingertips on the ground, sparking with electricity.

Mariah tried firing off another round, but the bullets seemed to have a mind of their own and flew off in random directions instead of hitting their target. “I was talkin’ about all the damn metal you keep in here! Seriously, why the hell would you walk around like this?! It’s heavy and I can’t move without somethin’ stabbin’ me!”

“I said stop complaining!” Hol Horse snapped while touching the ground to leave another outlet, effectively setting up a line of them to act as a trap. “Lord DIO wants that arrow, no matter the cost! If we fail him just because of your whining, then I’ll make sure you never get any use out of your ‘second gun’ again!”

Mariah shuddered and backed away as their target got closer. “You’re one heartless witch, y’ know that?”

Jotaro and his group were beyond confused by the verbal exchange, as well as what they were witnessing from Hol Horse and Mariah.

“What in the world is going on?” Abdul was the first to say what was on all of their minds, a look of confusion clear on his face. “I have fought against both of them in the past, and they are acting completely out of character. Not only are they behaving differently, but their stands have also switched users. How is that possible?”

Bucciarati looked at him with a worried expression. “Wait- did you just say that their stands were switched?”

Abdul nodded as he pointed to Mariah holding Emperor. “That is Hol Horse’s stand, the Emperor.” He then pointed to the electrical outlets that Hol Horse was leaving on the ground. “And that is Mariah’s stand, Bastet.”

Bucciarati looked like he was about to say something else, but his attention, as with Giorno and the others in their group, was suddenly stolen by a soft “kah” sound coming from the direction of the battle before them.

Jotaro looked at the third figure that had previously been obscured because of Mariah and Hol Horse’s angle: It appeared to be a man dressed in black- no. Upon closer inspection, it would be more accurate to say this “man” was completely black, meaning he seemed to be made of shadows. Everything on him, from his skin to his clothes to his very being was like looking at a walking, three-dimensional shadow with the only other color on it being its hollow white eyes and mouth whenever it opened it to reveal a similar whiteness. In its hand it tightly clutched a golden arrow, but it made no move to attack with it in any way.

“No..No way..!” Narancia gasped while staring at the dark figure. “It can’t be! Y-You guys said you beat him, right?!” He looked between Giorno, Bucciarati, Trish, and Mista.

“We did!” Trish confirmed, looking equally as terrified as the rest of her group (minus Fugo, who seemed a bit lost on what was going on). “Bucciarati finished him off!”

“Yeah!” Mista nodded, not taking his eyes off of the shadowy being. “We saw it disappear with our own eyes!”

Giorno looked away from the figure, glancing around as if he was searching for something. “The one from our timeline was defeated..but..there is another possibility..”

His words hung heavy in the air between him and his gang. Narancia looked around too, trying to spot something. “Wait, Giorno..you don’t mean..”

“I do.” Giorno confirmed Narancia’s fears with a serious expression. “Use Aerosmith- see if you can spot Polnareff anywhere nearby.”

Narancia nodded and summoned Aerosmith, having his stand fly high up into the air and begin circling the coliseum in a sweeping motion as it searched high and low.

“What does Polnareff have to do with this?” Jotaro asked while taking a step so he was directly in front of Giorno and looking down at him. “What exactly is that thing?”

Giorno frowned slightly before regaining his calm demeanor. “That is Polnareff’s stand: Silver Chariot Requiem.”

Everyone in Jotaro’s group, Jotaro included, were shocked by this news.

“THAT’S Silver Chariot?” Kakyoin said with a shocked expression. “How..? We’ve seen his stand hundreds of times- it looks nothing like that.”

“Not to mention it’s a fairly short-range stand.” Joseph added while looking back at the stand in question. “At most I’d call it a mid-range stand, but even that’s being generous. Polnareff should still be close enough that we could see him if that was actually Chariot.”

Giorno shook his head with a solemn expression. “You are correct, but, as I said, that is not merely Silver Chariot- that is Silver Chariot Requiem. This is Silver Chariot after it has been empowered by the arrow in its hand. Unfortunately, Polnareff is unable to control his stand when it is like this and it becomes autonomous- moving with the singular goal of protecting the arrow.”

“You guys seem to know a lot about it.” Jotaro looked down at Giorno with growing suspicion. “You fought it, didn’t you?”

“We did.” Giorno admitted while looking Jotaro dead in the eyes. “We had no choice in the matter, unfortunately- it was out of control and we needed to get the arrow from it to defeat Diavolo.”

“And what happened to Polnareff when you defeated his stand?” His eyes narrowed dangerously, looking like he might resort to violence depending on Giorno’s answer. “You guys said that Bucciarati ‘finished him off’ and that you ‘saw him disappear with your own eyes’. So, answer me..” He was practically looming over Giorno at this point. “What happened to Polnareff?”

To his credit, Giorno did not look intimidated by Jotaro’s towering figure in the slightest. “We did not hurt Polnareff.” Giorno chose his words carefully. “He asked us to stop his stand, since he was unable to. He thanked us after it was over.”

He was leaving parts out, that much was obvious. If a stand is damaged or destroyed, then the user will suffer the same injuries or die too- that was a truth that they had all come to learn over the course of their journey. To say that they defeated Polnareff’s stand to the point of it disappearing without harming Polnareff was suspicious, to say the least.

Before he had a chance to call Giorno out on it, though, their attention was drawn back to the fight. A loud gunshot was heard followed by “Mariah’s” voice yelling in pain.

“God damn it!” They looked back and saw that she had a bullet wound in her leg. “It’s no good! Emperor’s turnin’ on me when I use it!”

They then saw “Hol Horse” barely managing to dodge a spark of electricity from a nearby outlet. “Bastet isn’t listening either! We’ll fall back for now and contact Diavolo!”

The two then retreated, “Hol Horse” having to carry “Mariah” since her body was injured and unable to run.

Once they were gone, Narancia’s Aerosmith returned to him and he looked back at Giorno. “Hey, Giorno! I checked everywhere, but I didn’t see Polnareff anywhere on Aerosmith’s radar.”

Giorno brought a hand to his chin as he thought the information over. “Hm..I see..this is still a strange turn of events, but he may simply be outside of the coliseum at the moment.” He looked back towards Chariot as it continued its slow pace forward. “At any rate, we should leave Chariot alone for the time being. Its main focus is protecting the arrow, so as long as we don’t try to touch it, we should be safe.”

“……” Jotaro looked back at Chariot. He didn’t like the idea of leaving it like this, but he was more concerned with making sure that Polnareff was okay and keeping the rest of his group safe. “Fine. We’ll leave it for now- at least until we know Polnareff’s okay.” He started to walk away, following Giorno’s group since they knew the coliseum better than his own group did. He was stopped after a few steps, however, by a firm grip on his arm. “..?” He looked back over his shoulder and saw that Star Platinum had materialized behind him and was holding onto his arm while looking at Silver Chariot. “Star Platinum? What-?”

He soon saw that Star Platinum was not alone. Magician’s Red, The Fool, and Hierophant Green had also materialized and were looking at Silver Chariot Requiem alongside Star Platinum.

Before he could get the attention of the other stands’ users, he watched in stunned silence as Star Platinum opened its mouth and let out a loud cry while still looking at Silver Chariot Requiem. “ORA!!”

Everyone turned to look at Jotaro and his stand in surprise. Abdul and the others noticed their own stands out as well, him and Iggy looking as confused as Jotaro when Magician’s Red started letting out its loud screeching bird calls and The Fool began howling.

“Magician’s Red?!” Abdul tried to call back his stand, but it didn’t seem keen on obeying its master. “What?! This..This has never happened before- Magician’s Red has always listened to me!”

Iggy was barking at his stand, apparently trying to do the same as Abdul, but with the same results.

“Giorno!” Jotaro turned his head to look at the blonde. “What the hell’s going on?!”

Giorno, for once, looked completely at a loss for an explanation. “Silver Chariot Requiem has the power to control souls, as well as stands, but we’ve only ever seen that happen when one of us attempted to attack it. This..This is completely new..”

“Guys, I think we have a problem!” Trish said while pointing to the other side of the coliseum.

They looked at Silver Chariot Requiem and saw that it had actually stopped walking and was now staring directly at them with its emotionless gaze. “……” It turned so that its body was now facing the group and began walking directly towards them.

“It changed direction?!” Mista asked in a worried tone. “It’s never done that before! It’s always walked in a straight line and only turned long enough to grab the arrow! What the hell did your stands do?!”

“Don’t ask us.” Kakyoin shot back while looking at his Hierophant Green with a confused frown. “This is all as new to us as it is to you.”

“We need to get out of here.” Bucciarati said while looking towards the exit. “Silver Chariot Requiem is too dangerous to fight- any damage you try to inflict on it will be reflected back onto you. Not to mention it can regenerate as well as control both souls and stands. There is a way to defeat it, but I don’t know if it would be wise until we know where your Polnareff is..”

“Agreed.” Giorno said while using Golden Experience to open the nearest gate. “For now, our best option is still to retreat.”

They found their exit blocked, however, by a combination of thorny purple vines and green tendrils. All eyes turned to Kakyoin and Joseph, the older of the two staring at his hands in confusion as the purple vines grew from them seemingly without his consent. “What the hell?! I swear, I’m not doing this!”

“Neither am I..” Kakyoin said while looking at Hierophant Green’s lower half that had detangled into its strand-form before weaving with Hermit Purple’s vines at the exit. “It would seem our stands don’t want us to leave.”

“Damn it!” Mista swore while grabbing his gun from his pants and taking aim. “Looks like we’ve got no choice but to fight it. I’ll try hitting the things around it instead of attacking it directly- hopefully that’ll be enough to slow it down without Sex Pistols going crazy again. Fugo! Narancia! Back me up!”

The other two boys called out their stands as well. “Right!”

As the three of them began firing at the ground and objects around Silver Chariot to trip it up, Giorno looked to Bucciarati. “Bucciarati, see if you can open up a doorway with Sticky Fingers.”

“Got it.” Bucciarati said while summoning his own stand. “Sticky Fingers!” The stand appeared and went to one of the walls, forming a zipper on it and attempting to open its portal to the other side. Unfortunately, before they could make use of it, a red string of flames suddenly shot out and wrapped around Sticky Fingers. “Ah!” Bucciarati gasped when he felt the bind tightening around his stand, as well as himself.

They looked to see Magician’s Red, its arm outstretched as it used its Red Bind to keep Sticky Fingers from moving and opening the portal out of the coliseum.

“Bucciarati!” Trish summoned Spice Girl and the pink stand attempted to strike Magician’s Red, but was intercepted by The Fool and a barrier of sand. Spice Girl tried to soften the sand, but, as it was already a loose and shifty material, it did not do much good. “Damn it!”

“I’m okay, Trish!” Bucciarati got her attention, looking frustrated but otherwise unharmed. “It’s only restraining me, so don’t worry. Try creating a soft spot in the wall for us to break through. Giorno, cover her!”

They both nodded and went to their assigned tasks. When Trish rushed to one of the walls and started to soften it using Spice Girl, The Fool attempted to pursue her. Giorno and Golden Experience stood in its way, however, and proved to be a much better opponent against the animal-like stand.

The Fool howled as it tried to knock them over with a small wave of sand, but it failed due to Golden Experience’s power: Sand is technically inorganic, so, when Golden Experience touched it with its ability, it was able to convert the sand into simple green leaves and flower petals that flew away harmlessly in the breeze.

It growled and continued trying to attack the pair to get to Trish and Spice Girl, ignoring Iggy’s annoyed barking at it.

Jotaro watched the chaos around him unfurl without being able to do anything about it. Nothing was making sense here! Their stands had turned on them, they couldn’t recall them or command them in any way, Polnareff was missing, and Silver Chariot Requiem was getting closer by the second. It had been a while since he felt so powerless and he was racking his brain in an attempt to find a way out of this situation, but nothing was coming to him.

“It’s getting closer!” Mista called while stepping closer to the group with Fugo and Narancia. He looked back at them with a serious expression. “Look, I know you guys may not like to hear this, but we’re running out of time here- we need to destroy Silver Chariot Requiem!”

Abdul, who had previously been preoccupied with attempting to regain control of his stand, turned his attention instead to Mista. “No! We still do not know where Polnareff is and what will happen to him if his stand is destroyed in this state!”

Mista held up one of his hands. “Look at yourselves!” The hand he held up had started to peel apart in certain spots, revealing some sort of secondary body growing beneath it. Startled by his exclamation, Jotaro and the others looked at themselves, as well as Giorno’s group, to see that they were all starting to show similar symptoms- as if something was attempting to grow from within their bodies. “This is what Silver Chariot Requiem is capable of! It may not be doing it on purpose, but if we don’t destroy it, then we’ll be completely switched with something from another world!” He glanced over his shoulder as if he was looking for something that no one else could see. “Bucciarati found Silver Chariot Requiem’s weakness before: There’s a light that’s casting a shadow behind it in a way that anyone looking at it will always see it facing away from them. The source of the light is attached to the soul, so, if you look behind you, you should see a ball of light. If you crush it, it’ll destroy Silver Chariot Requiem and undo all of the damage it’s done.” He grabbed something from behind his shoulder and tensed in preparation to break it.

“No!!!” Abdul shouted and ran up, tackling Mista and forcing the boy to release his grip on what he was holding. “I will not allow you to harm Silver Chariot until we know that Polnareff is safe!!”

Mista struggled against Abdul’s strong grip. “If Silver Chariot’s in its Requiem form, then Polnareff’s probably dead already!”

Abdul froze, eyes widening slightly. “What..? Polnareff is..?” He shook his head. “No! His stand is still here, so he must be alive somewhere!”

“Some stands can survive after their users die! We’ve seen it happen before!” Mista managed to take advantage of Abdul’s brief moment of worry over Polnareff’s life and worked a leg in between them, using it to shove Abdul off enough that he could free himself. “Sorry! But I’m not planning on dying or turning into whatever’s taking over our bodies!” He reached behind himself and attempted to grab what he’d gotten before.

“Magician’s Red!!” Abdul shouted with anger blazing in his eyes. To everyone’s surprise, his stand finally turned to him in recognition. “Red Bind!” Abdul called out his command while pointing at Mista.

The fiery bird stand actually obeyed him and raised its unoccupied hand, firing off a second binding rope of red flames that wrapped around Mista.

“What?!” Mista struggled against the ropes that had him trapped, Sex Pistols even trying to tug them off but the tiny stands weren’t strong enough. “How the hell-?!”

Abdul stood and stared down at him with a piercing gaze, Magician’s Red moving to stand behind him as it usually did. “I was willing to give my life to save Polnareff before- I will gladly do it again. That is still his stand- it is as much a part of him as Magician’s Red is a part of me! Neither of us will allow you to harm them!” Magician’s Red echoed its user’s words with a loud shrieking-birdlike cry, flames erupting behind the pair menacingly.

“Abdul..” Jotaro watched his friend’s reaction for a moment, confused and intrigued about how Abdul seemingly regained control of Magician’s Red if it was truly being controlled by Silver Chariot Requiem.

“Ah! Hey! Stop it!” Jotaro turned his head and saw that Iggy had stopped his barking at The Fool, and had instead moved over to where Trish and Spice Girl were still working on softening a hole in the wall- the work was taking a while as the stone was very old and one wrong move could make the entire wall collapse before it had time to soften. Iggy had bitten Trish’s skirt and was pulling it in an attempt to drag her away. “Let go!” She tried pulling her skirt back from the dog’s mouth, but he kept a firm grip with his teeth. “What’s gotten into you?!”

“Grrr!” Iggy growled, barking around the fabric in his mouth. “Rrrf! Rrr! Arrf!” (Translation: “He’s right! Polnareff’s around here somewhere, we can’t just leave him!”)

Once again, everyone was surprised when The Fool suddenly dissolved into sand before reappearing behind Iggy with a protective growl. It formed a shield of sand over the area that Trish and Spice Girl had been working so hard on, stopping them from further affecting the area.

“Iggy..” Jotaro looked between the dog and the Egyptian, feeling like all the pieces were suddenly coming together. He tuned out the arguing that had started between his group and Giorno’s about what to do next and instead looked up at his own stand. Star Platinum was still watching Silver Chariot Requiem and had a firm grip on Jotaro’s arm. Looking closer at its hand as he moved, though, Jotaro saw that Star Platinum was only preventing him from moving towards the exit, not when he moved towards Silver Chariot Requiem. He then looked up to his stand’s expression- it was serious as usual, but it also looked oddly..concerned..maybe even worried as it looked at the approaching dark figure that was once its friend- “…!” Jotaro blinked as the realization finally struck him. “Shut up..” He said once, but no one could hear him over their own shouting. “EVERYONE SHUT THE HELL UP!” He yelled firmly above the roar of voices, everyone instantly doing just that as they turned to look at the teenager. Jotaro moved his arm out of Star Platinum’s hold, his stand allowing it as it read his intentions. “Our stands aren’t being controlled by Silver Chariot- they’re trying to help it.”

Kakyoin looked at his Hierophant Green with a tilt of his head. “Are you sure, Jotaro? I’ve never seen Hierophant Green behave like this before.”

Jotaro glanced over his shoulder at Kakyoin. “Have you ever argued with yourself about whether what you were doing was right or wrong? Or doubted yourself so much that you weren’t sure what you wanted?”

“Not particularly, no.” Kakyoin thought while tapping a finger to his chin. “I’m usually fairly certain of my own actions. Why?”

“Our stands are a manifestation of our will, right?” Jotaro looked back up at Star Platinum. “I didn’t always command Star Platinum- he used to move around on his own, but he still did whatever I wanted, even if I didn’t know what I wanted. He’s always done that because that’s what stands do: They move according to our will, not just our thoughts.” He looked back to Silver Chariot Requiem, the stand now only about 20 feet away. “Regardless of what it looks like, that’s still Silver Chariot. It’s still Polnareff’s stand and we don’t want to leave it or Polnareff behind..or let them get hurt.” He started to walk forward towards the stand, more layers of his skin peeling away to reveal eyes and muscles and other body parts forming underneath. “Our stands figured that out before we did- that’s why they wouldn’t let us leave.”

Joseph looked at Jotaro with a serious expression. “Jotaro…” He followed Jotaro’s lead, Hermit Purple retracting and allowing him to follow his grandson. “I hope you’re right about this.”

They were soon joined by Kakyoin, Abdul, and Iggy, each member of the group being followed by their respective stands. The closer they got, the more deformed they became, but they all ignored it in favor of reaching Silver Chariot Requiem.

When they finally reached it, their stands floated past them to gather around Silver Chariot Requiem. The Fool nudged at Chariot’s leg with its head in a typical gesture of animal affection. Hermit Purple began to very loosely wrap around Chariot’s legs as it walked, connecting with it but not hindering it in any way. Hierophant Green and Star Platinum each gave one of its shoulders a slight squeeze as it walked by them. Magician’s Red, being the last one that it passed, made a soft cooing noise and carefully grasped its free hand for a moment, nuzzling its head into Chariot’s shoulder. Chariot spared it a look that somehow felt softer than its usual blank gaze before Magician’s Red released its hand and allowed it to take the final step to Jotaro and the others.

“……” Silver Chariot Requiem stared at them with its empty white eyes for a while before raising the hand that clutched the arrow. It looked at Jotaro expectantly as it held its hand out and Jotaro understood its silent request. He held his own hand out underneath it and the stand carefully placed the arrow in his waiting palm. Once Jotaro curled his fingers around the arrow to hold onto it, the shadowy stand’s once expressionless face relaxed into a calm but tired smile. It opened its mouth and they heard a faint, raspy voice speak- it sounded like the voice they’d hear when Silver Chariot would shout “Hora hora hora!”, but breathier and without the metallic echo. “Mi..ssion..com..plete…”

It closed its eyes and its body began to dissolve into tiny sparks of white light, starting at its feet and slowly working its way up towards its head. As it disappeared, the tiny lights floated around Jotaro and the others and they all began to hear Polnareff’s voice like distant echoes through the small sparks.

“I..I’m done..I can’t go any further..”

“Chariot..you..have to complete my mission..”

“Please..this arrow..it’s..too dangerous..”

“You have to protect it..”

“Don’t let anyone else take it..”

“Jotaro..Mr.Joestar..my friends..please..get it to my friends..!”

“Get it to my friends..”

“Protect it..”

“Don’t let anyone take it..”

“My friends..”

Everyone’s bodies returned to normal as the last of the lights faded away into nothingness, the last thing they saw of Silver Chariot being its calm smile.

All of them were shocked by what they’d heard. Pain pierced them from the strength of Polnareff and Silver Chariots’ convictions. But, what shook them the most was the haunting thought of what those words really meant…

Jotaro’s head was tilted down as he led his group back over to Giorno’s gang on the sidelines, the shadow of his hat over his head obscuring his eyes and leaving only his mouth set in a hard line visible. “……” The other members of his group all had a similar look about them, their eyes hidden in shadow and faces tense with clenched fists at their sides. When they reached Giorno’s gang, Jotaro was the first one to speak. “Tell us the truth. Now.”

Giorno stepped forward for his group to speak on their behalf. “We already told you-” Giorno was suddenly knocked onto his back by Jotaro’s fist slamming into his cheek. “!!”

“Giorno!” Mista was quick to rush to Giorno’s side and check on him, kneeling down to help him sit up.

“H-Hey! What the hell was that for?!” Narancia tried to sound defensive and angry, but it came off as scared when speaking earned him a warning growl from Iggy.

“I’m tired of your bullshit.” Jotaro walked over to where he’d knocked Giorno over.

Mista tried shielding his friend with his body while looking up at Jotaro. “We didn’t lie about Polnareff! I swear!” Star Platinum grabbed Mista and held him away from Giorno while Jotaro leaned down and roughly picked the younger teen up by the front of his jacket. “Giorno!”

The other members of Giorno’s gang tried to get to him, but were blocked by Jotaro’s group, each one of them looking as angry as Jotaro about the situation.

Jotaro stood to his full height, easily lifting Giorno off the ground with one arm and scowling up at him. “You may not have lied, but you sure as hell didn’t tell the truth, either. Now..” He grit his teeth for a moment, his hand tightening in a white-knuckled grip on Giorno’s shirt before looking up at Giorno again with a hard glare. “You’re gonna tell us why we just heard what sounded like our friend’s dying thoughts!!” He gave Giorno a rough shake, his other hand clenched tightly around the arrow. “You said that you defeated Silver Chariot, but you never once said what happened to Polnareff. You know, though, don’t you? You’ve been hiding it since the first time you saw him, always looking at him like he was some sort of ticking time bomb about to go off..” He lowered Giorno just enough to barely stand on the ground- just enough that he’d be able to talk properly. “So, talk- was he your enemy?”

“No.” Giorno answered while meeting Jotaro’s hard gaze unflinchingly, even as a dark bruise began to form on his cheek from the punch he was given earlier. “It’s the opposite: Polnareff was an invaluable ally. He was the one that told us the true secret of the arrow’s power, as well as the one to finally figure out the truth about Diavolo’s identity. Without him, we never would have been able to defeat Diavolo. We were nervous about his stand because we knew how powerful and uncontrollable it could become, but we consider Polnareff our friend.”

“Then what happened to him?” Jotaro pressed on, knowing that Giorno was still withholding information. “What happened to him when Silver Chariot Requiem appeared?”

“……” Giorno glanced away, his calm expression faltering for a moment before he took in a deep breath, exhaled it slowly, then finally said the words they had all obviously been avoiding out loud. “He died.”

Magician’s Red began to spark up with flames swirling around it as Abdul narrowed his eyes at Giorno dangerously. “How?”

“Diavolo killed him for knowing the truth about his identity.” Giorno elaborated while glancing in Abdul’s direction, Jotaro’s grip preventing him from turning completely. “As a final act to prevent Diavolo from getting the arrow, he had Silver Chariot stab itself to unleash its full power. By that time, though, his body was already dead-”

“So..” Jotaro cut him off, his glare not softening at all. “What you’re telling me..is that you KNEW how Polnareff was going to die..and you didn’t bother warning him about it?”

Giorno looked as if he felt slightly guilty for half a second before he regained his calm expression. “We were concerned with how he would take the truth about what happened to him-”

Once again, Jotaro stopped Giorno with a firm punch to the cheek, managing not to stab him with the arrow in the process. “Bullshit! I told you to stop lying!!”

“Please, stop!” Trish pleaded with him. She tried moving closer, but was blocked by Kakyoin and Hierophant Green. She looked up at him beseechingly. “He’s telling the truth! We weren’t sure how he’d react to the truth, so we agreed to keep it a secret- that way he wouldn’t panic!”

Kakyoin gave her a cold glare as Hierophant Green loomed behind him like an imposing shadow. “Why don’t you just come out and say why you REALLY kept it a secret: You were afraid of what would happen to your timeline, weren’t you?” The way Trish froze up and was unable to reply right away was all the answer that they needed. “You were scared that if Polnareff knew the truth about how he died, then he wouldn’t come to Italy and you would all die instead when you lost.”

Bucciarati stepped out in front of Trish protectively, Sticky Fingers floating behind him as backup. “It was a reasonable fear to have. We lost much in our fight against Diavolo, and we stood to lose even more if we failed. The timeline as a whole could have been damaged by-”

“Get off your god-damn high-horse!” Joseph suddenly cut him off and stepped forward, jabbing a finger into Bucciarati’s chest and paying no mind to his stand at all. “The timeline’s been fucked up long before any of us even got involved! I’m going around interacting with a younger version of myself, I’ve met my grandfather and uncle when they were both younger than me, and events in my past happened weeks ahead of schedule! Hell, half the people here are supposed to be dead, just like you, but I don’t see you offing yourself to protect Jolyne’s timeline!” He glared at the young capo, his eyes showing no mercy or tolerance for Bucciarati’s words. “I stopped my best friend from running off and getting himself killed because I didn’t want my younger self to live through the same pain that I did. Yeah, sure, I was scared of how it would affect my time line- hell, if Caesar lived I may not have had the resolve needed to win against the Pillar Men and Jotaro may have never been born- but I still chose to save my friend’s life. If any one of you actually considered Polnareff a friend, you’d have done the same ages ago!”

“He’s right.” Jotaro said while glaring at Giorno. “For weeks you’ve all gotten to sit around, share a room, eat, talk, and laugh with Polnareff, all while thinking about how he’d die and not saying a damn thing about it. Now it might be too late and there’s a chance that our Polnareff is dead because you decided to keep your damn secrets and save your own asses. You might as well be accessories to his murder..” He tossed Giorno to the ground roughly before turning his back on him. “Guess you had more of your old man in you then I thought.”

Giorno had started to sit up after being tossed aside, but he froze when he heard Jotaro say those words. “……” He looked back down at the ground, saying nothing, but the way he hung his head spoke volumes to how deeply Jotaro’s words had cut him.

“Let’s go.” Jotaro said while heading towards the exit. “We’re gonna go find Polnareff. The rest of you can do whatever the hell you want, just stay out of our way.”

Kakyoin and the rest of his group followed Jotaro out of the coliseum, leaving behind Giorno’s gang to mull over what just happened.

“…” Abdul was the first to speak once they were outside of the old building. “Do you think that Polnareff..could he actually be..dead..?” He seemed uncomfortable with saying it out loud- hell, all of them were uncomfortable with the idea of it, but they all knew how close Abdul was to Polnareff and they understood his worry for the other man.

“He’ll be around here somewhere.” Jotaro replied after a minute. “One way or another, we’ll find him.” They didn’t come this far, go through all this hell to finally get their group back together, just to lose someone yet again. No matter the cost, they WOULD find Polnareff.

Iggy suddenly stopped and sniffed the air. “???” He walked away from them, sniffing along the ground. His ears perked up and he started barking. “Arf! Arf! Arf!” He looked back at the others before taking off towards the town. (Translation: “I smell something! This way!”)

Jotaro and the others trusted Iggy’s sense of smell and direction, so they followed the small dog into town. It didn’t take long for them to hear the sounds of a fight (things breaking, bodies being tossed about, etc.) coming from a vacant street.

They arrived to see a figure that Jotaro recognized from his fights alongside Giorno’s group: A man with pink hair in a mesh top by the name of Diavolo. This was the mob boss of Passione that Giorno and the others had worked so hard to defeat.

This was also the man they were told would one day kill Polnareff…

“You can’t hide forever!” Diavolo called while looking around, his back currently turned to Jotaro’s group and unaware of their presence yet. “I defeated your worthless stand when it was ten times stronger- this version is nothing against the power of my King Crimson!” He was suddenly blindsided by a wooden crate that was thrown at him from the side while he had his head turned in the opposite direction. “!!” He stumbled slightly but quickly righted himself and attempted to look at the alleyway the box came from, but it was already empty. “Come out already, you cowardly French rat!!”

“I think not, mon ami.” A familiar voice called tauntingly in a way that echoed around the area, making it impossible to pinpoint its exact location. “See, I’ve been warned about what your stand can do and what its range is, so I’m not taking any chances.” To accompany his words, a potted plant was suddenly thrown at Diavolo.

Unfortunately, Diavolo saw it coming that time and was suddenly in a different location than before, the plant now lying broken on the ground where he previously was. “Then your plan is to hide in the darkness and throw things like a child? Pathetic! At least when I fought you before, you had the decency to die like a man!”

“So sorry to disappoint you.” The voice called back. “But I’m not planning on dying today!” Jotaro and the others caught a glint of silver on a roof top before it ducked away again.

“That voice..” Abdul said quietly.

“Yeah..” Kakyoin nodded while looking around. “There’s no doubting it..”

“Looks like we got here just in time.” Jotaro started walking towards Diavolo. “Let’s lend him a hand.”

He gestured for Kakyoin to circle around and get in position at a close enough distance from Diavolo before nodding towards Polnareff’s voice while looking at his grandfather and Abdul, telling them to try finding him. They nodded and ran off quietly to their assigned positions. Meanwhile, Iggy jumped up onto Jotaro’s shoulder, already guessing what Jotaro would want from him and not complaining for once.

Once Kakyoin was in position, he called out his stand and tried using the Hierophant’s tendrils to bind Diavolo. He seemed to know what was about to happen, though, and he was up in the air above where he just was, looking as if he had disappeared and reappeared before they even had time to blink.

He looked at the trio with a scowl. “Damn it..more rats crawling out to cause trouble..”

Jotaro was the one to approach him with Iggy on his shoulder while Kakyoin stayed back, all of them glaring at Diavolo. “Normally I’d ignore something like that and give you an option to back off before using Star Platinum to beat the shit out of you.” He held up his hand that was still clutching the arrow. “But we just found out that you caused some trouble for one of our friends- so we’re gonna skip the warning and go straight to the part where you get your ass kicked!”

Iggy followed his lead perfectly and summoned The Fool behind Diavolo. The stand quickly transformed into a wall of sand that spread outward, blocking Diavolo’s main route for retreat.

Jotaro wasn’t 100% sure what Diavolo’s stand could do, but he had enough information for a vague idea: It was a powerful and close-range stand, meaning that it wouldn’t be able to touch him till he got within at least 5 meters, so he’d have to wait until the last possible moment to strike. It also seemed to have some sort of perception ability, since Diavolo was able to avoid Kakyoin’s binding attack even without being seen. His final bit of information came from what he’d heard about Diavolo’s fight with Giorno- his power was similar to DIO’s in that it affected time.

With all of that in mind, he charged forward with Star Platinum. The stand looked just as angry as its user, both clearly ready to beat the pink haired man to death for what he did to their friend. It let out a loud “ORA ORA ORA ORA!!” when it was close enough to fire off a barrage of punches.

Just as Jotaro predicted, however, the fists missed their target and the man was suddenly a few feet away. He scowled as his back hit the wall of sand behind him, his eyes searching for a way around the barrier but apparently finding none. “Damn it! I don’t have time for this!” He had his stand out now- an angry looking red spirit with a white face and an odd pink growth with a second face on its forehead. “It was a mistake coming here without Giovanna and his group- you left behind the only person ever able to defeat me.” Diavolo said with a sneer. “Without him, even five against one, you won’t be able to touch me!”

“Only five against one?” A voice called out from a distance behind the sand wall. “Wow, that crate must have hit you harder than I thought- you’ve forgotten how to count!”

Jotaro saw something silver begin to pierce through the barrier of sand right behind Diavolo. Diavolo seemed to be aware of it too and looked like he was preparing to dodge it.

Seeing his opportunity, Jotaro activated Star Platinum’s trump card. “Star Platinum: The World!!” There was that familiar, odd feeling of everything freezing around him. He didn’t take the time to dwell on it, though, since his window of opportunity was limited.

He and his stand moved quickly, closing the distance between himself and Diavolo. He grabbed onto Diavolo himself while punching him in one of the legs with Star Platinum.

Time resumed and Jotaro felt Diavolo try to move in his grasp. The silver thing was no longer piercing through the wall of sand, but was now embedded in Diavolo’s side- it was the blade from Silver Chariot’s rapier. Jotaro didn’t even see it move after he let time resume, so that meant that Diavolo must have used his stand’s own ability right after Jotaro did before he even had time to register what happened.

“!!” Diavolo looked at Jotaro, his stand, and the wound in his side with a shocked expression. “Impossible! How-?!”

Jotaro held tight while his stand prepared for a point-blank barrage. “I guess DIO didn’t tell you- he’s not the only one that can stop time.”

“ORA!!” Star Platinum cried while surging forward with a punch aimed right at Diavolo’s face.

“Jotaro! Behind you!” He heard Kakyoin call to him and saw something from the corner of his eye dodging through the tendrils of Kakyoin’s stand.

Before he had time to respond, someone tackled him from behind and grabbed him. “?!”

Surprised, he turned his head to see what looked to be an exact replica of himself grabbing him in the same way that he had grabbed Diavolo. The replica even had the same expression on its face..except..it seemed to have a digital timer on its forehead? What was going on?

The timer on the fake Jotaro’s forehead ran out and it changed shape with a clicking sound similar to a phone hanging up and a weird distorted effect around its body- like looking at the static from a TV set stuck between channels before settling on a proper signal. It revealed itself to be a stand. A humanoid one with a purple and white color scheme and eyes that reminded Jotaro of the speakers on a cassette player.

Taking advantage of Jotaro’s surprise and confusion, the stand in question used the hold it had on Jotaro to toss him away from Diavolo. “!!” The distance forced him to call back Star Platinum and release the wounded man.

“Jotaro!” Kakyoin caught him and Iggy using Hierophant Green and set them down on the ground, keeping his eyes on the duo in front of them and eyeing the new stand cautiously. “Anyone you know?”

“No.” Jotaro said while also eyeing the stand in question.

“Of course you wouldn’t recognize my Moody Blues- you haven’t been to Italy yet.” A voice said from somewhere above them.

“!!” Looking up at a nearby building, they saw someone watching them from the second floor balcony.

Seated casually on the railing and looking down at the fighters below was a man dressed in black with long white hair. He had a dark aura around him, similar to what Kakyoin and many of their other allies had while being controlled by DIO.

Diavolo glared up at the man above him while removing Silver Chariot’s rapier from his still bleeding wound. “You certainly took your time..”

“I do not work for you, Diavolo.” The man stated with a scowl on his painted lips. “The only one I answer to-” He tipped himself forward to fall off of the balcony, the purple stand- presumably his own- catching him and setting him down on the ground in front of it. “-is the one who will cleanse my past.”

“Great, one more headache to deal with..” Jotaro glared at the newcomer disdainfully.

“Jotaro!” They all heard Polnareff’s voice calling from somewhere above them. “Don’t hurt him- he’s with Bucciarati’s gang!”

Jotaro glanced up towards the other man’s voice, narrowing his eyes a bit when he couldn’t see the source up there. “How did he..?” He looked back over to Diavolo and his unwitting accomplice. “Guess it doesn’t matter right now. Think you can handle the new guy on your own?”

He didn’t need to say anything more for Kakyoin to know that Jotaro was talking to him. “His stand’s a bit odd, but nothing I can’t handle.”

“Good.” The taller teen adjusted his hat, his usual serious look on his face as he returned his focus to Diavolo. “Now, let’s try this again.”

In perfect sync, the trio of stand users went on the offensive. Kakyoin attacked the unknown stand user with Hierophant Green, attempting to wrap him up in his stand’s long limbs. With a wave of his hand, though, the stranger’s stand moved in front of him and transformed into a version of Star Platinum with a timer on its head- the imitation stand repeating the barrage of punches that the real one had attempted to use on Diavolo earlier and using the motions to knock away the green tendrils.

Meanwhile, Iggy summoned The Fool behind Diavolo again and created another wall of sand to block his possible exit. With his path blocked off, Jotaro called out Star Platinum and had him use his “Star Finger” attack in an attempt to keep some distance between them. Diavolo’s own stand appeared and, once again, he was able to dodge the attack with ease. He even avoided the spears made of sand that The Fool launched out from the wall behind him, proving too slippery for them to land a clean hit without getting closer.

Preparing himself to do just that, Jotaro noticed something out of the corner of his eye near one of the buildings, something metallic like gleaming silver- Ah.

“Yare yare daze..he always likes to put on a show, doesn’t he?” Jotaro tried to keep his face neutral, eyeing the rapier that had been tossed to the ground by Diavolo’s feet. “Oi, Iggy.” He nodded towards the abandoned blade once the dog was looking at it. “Fetch.”

“Grrrr..hmph..” The slight growl that Iggy gave, accompanied by the shift in his stance, seemed to say “I’m not your pet…but I guess I’ll play along this time.” With a bark, Iggy commanded The Fool to return to its usual form, the animal-like stand grabbing the rapier between its teeth and attempting to dash away with it.

“King Crimson!” Diavolo called his stand and the angry red faced being appeared instantly. It attempted to beat The Fool down with its speed and strength, but was surprised when its fists only broke away sand. “What?! The stand doesn’t just manipulate sand- it’s MADE of sand as well?!” Before he could do anything with his newfound revelation, The Fool moved outside of King Crimson’s range. “Damn it!” His attempts to follow it were impeded by purple vines that suddenly wrapped themselves around his feet. “?!!”

“Hey now, you weren’t thinking of leaving, were ya?” The voice of the vine-stand’s owner asked as he came into view. Joseph smirked at the crime lord, pointing back towards Jotaro. “You haven’t finished playing with my grandson yet!”

“Yare yare..” Jotaro approached Diavolo with Star Platinum at his side. “Jiji, don’t talk about this like I’m a little kid on a playdate.” In his peripheral vision, he could see Magician’s Red assisting Hierophant Green against the other stand user- the fire attacks of Abdul’s stand being much harder for Moody Blues to counter or copy and leaving it wide open for Hierophant Green to tie it up. “If we’re gonna treat it like anything, let’s make it a game.” Once he was within five meters, he had Star Platinum prepare his attack. “How about my stand’s favorite game?” The stand began to surge forward with a punch right on Jotaro’s next word. “TAG.”

“ORA!!” Star Platinum shouted as its fist swung right at Diavolo’s face.

“King Crimson!” As expected, Diavolo used his own stand’s abilities to dodge the attack and slip out of Hermit Purple’s vines. “Your attacks are useless against me! As long as I can see what’s about to happen, my King Crimson is invincible!”

“Oh yeah?” Polnareff’s voice called from above them. “I bet you won’t see THIS coming!”

“!!” Diavolo looked up towards the building, preparing for an attack from above. “You won’t hit me with that tw-”

“Star Platinum: The World!” Jotaro said quietly, activating his stand’s ability and freezing time once more. He moved quickly, getting everything in position before letting time resume.

“-ice!” Diavolo finished his sentence from earlier. As he prepared to dodge, though, he found a wall of sand quickly springing up in front of him again. “When did-?!”

“HORA HORA HORA HORA!!” A familiar cry to the crusaders sounded through the air as a silver rapier swiftly slashed and stabbed into Diavolo multiple times from behind.

“!!!!!” Diavolo gasped, soon coughing up blood from the assault. “Impossible- nothing can escape my Epitaph’s predictions!” He managed to turn his head enough to see Silver Chariot in all its gleaming glory standing behind him. “H..How..?!”

Jotaro pulled his hat down slightly as he explained everything. “Your stand lets you see into the future and jump ahead of it, right? That’s one scary ability..if it didn’t come with such a big weakness.” He looked down into Diavolo’s eyes as he said the other’s weakness aloud. “You can’t see what happens if time is paused. Your stand couldn’t predict it earlier when Star Platinum broke your leg, messing up whatever future you saw where you avoided Silver Chariot’s attack. Then, just now, you couldn’t see me bringing the others closer, throwing off whatever prediction you got before I stopped time.” Star Platinum grabbed Diavolo by his arm, the other too injured now to properly escape again. “Let this be a lesson to you and everyone else you work with..” He glared at Diavolo, looking him right in the eyes with a more intimidating energy than should have been possible for a teenager going up against a mob boss. “Don’t ever challenge us- past, present, or future.”

“ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORAAAA!!!” Star Platinum cried as he delivered a barrage of strikes against the pink haired man that nearly matched Silver Chariot’s earlier attack in speed and precision, all culminating in a fierce uppercut that sent Diavolo flying far into the distance and crashing through several buildings. “ORAAAA!!!!!”

“Très bien, Jotaro!” A voice laughed from behind Silver Chariot. The stand soon disappeared to reveal its owner, Jean-Pierre Polnareff, smiling at his comrades with one of his usual bright grins. “I knew you’d come up with something good in the end!”

Abdul’s face lit up with a smile nearly as bright as the Frenchman’s upon seeing him in the flesh. “Polnareff!” He ran towards the other man, leaving Kakyoin to watch with an understanding smile from where he stood beside his own stand (which had the unnamed and unconscious stand-user tied up securely).

“Abdul! Good to see you too, mon ami-” His greeting was halted when Polnareff found himself being firmly embraced by the Egyptian. “Huh? Abdul??” He looked to his companion in confusion- while he himself was undoubtedly a very physical person and had trouble understanding boundaries at times, Abdul wasn’t usually so forward unless the situation called for it (such as restraining one of them to prevent a violent altercation). “Abdul, what’s going on? I know I disappeared for a bit, but I couldn’t help it! The stupid portal spit me out over here and I tried to find you, but I couldn’t, and then that Diavolo bastard showed up, and-”

“You’re alive..” Abdul said quietly as he clutched to the tall-haired man like he might disappear if he relented his grip in any capacity. “You’re ALIVE…” He repeated, holding on just a little bit tighter.

“Eh?? Of course I’m alive.” Polnareff put one arm around his friend, leaning his head back enough to look him in the eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“After we saw what happened to your stand at the coliseum, we thought something might’ve happened to you.” Joseph explained while walking closer to the rest of the group.

“My stand?” Polnareff still looked confused as he summoned said stand. “Silver Chariot’s fine, what are-?” He stopped and blinked, his eyes going wide as a thought seemingly struck him from out of the blue. “Ohhhh, I get it now!” He patted Abdul twice on the back to make him let go before running off towards one of the buildings. “I’ll be right back!”

“Yare yare, where is he going now?” Jotaro tried to sound annoyed, but, to the others who were familiar with his mannerisms by now, they could see from his posture and the slight upturn of his lips that just barely peeked out from behind his collar that he was just as relieved as the rest of them to find their missing member safe and sound. Turning his attention to Kakyoin and his knocked-out captive, Jotaro walked over to the pair. “So, what do we do with him?”

“Polnareff said he was with Giorno’s group, right?” Joseph joined his grandson in looking over their prisoner. “If that’s the case, he’s probably being controlled like the others were.”

“Which means you could fix him with your piece of the holy corpse.” Abdul suggested.

“True..” Kakyoin looked down at the man being held by his Hierophant with a mild look of disdain that wasn’t necessarily directed at their prisoner. “But it’s not like we owe them anything after what they’ve done.”

“I get where you’re coming from,” Joseph sighed, scratching his head under his hat. “But it’s not like this guy was a part of it.”

Abdul folded his arms and looked to Jotaro. “In the end, the decision is not ours to make. What do you think, Jotaro?”

Jotaro looked down at the unconscious silver haired man as he mentally weighed his options. On the one hand, Kakyoin was right- after the way Giorno and his group had kept secrets from them about Polnareff’s fate and been so willing to potentially kill him earlier, they hadn’t exactly earned any favors from Jotaro. On the other hand, though, his grandfather was also right- whoever this guy was, he hadn’t been a part of any of that and it probably wasn’t fair to punish him for what his team did when he hadn’t even been there for it.

What finally motivated his decision, though, was glancing around to his friends- to Kakyoin, Abdul, and Iggy, who’d all been lost to them at one point and brought back as puppets against their will. In the end, NO ONE deserved that.

With that in mind, Jotaro reached into his jacket, pulled out his piece of the holy corpse, and held it out towards the unconscious man. “If we don’t deal with him now, he’ll just be another pain in the ass later.” Just like usual, the corpse piece glowed and its light dispelled the darkness surrounding the stand user.

“Nhh..” The man in question slowly opened his eyes and looked around in confusion, Kakyoin recalling his stand so the man could get to his feet. “Where am I? Wait…is this…Rome..? How did I..? Ah!” He gasped, his eyes going wide as he recalled something urgent. “That’s right! I have to find Bucciarati!”

“If you’re looking for him, he’s probably still at the coliseum with Giorno and the others.” Kakyoin gestured in the general direction of the aforementioned building.

“!!” The longer haired man finally took notice of the others around him and assumed a defensive position, his stand soon appearing to further protect him. “Who are you and how do you know about Bucciarati and Giorno?”

“We’re..” Jotaro almost said friends, but stopped himself. The title didn’t feel right anymore after what had happened earlier. “On the same side as them.” That answer seemed more accurate.

“And I’m just supposed to trust that you’re telling me the truth?” The man’s defensive stance did not waver even slightly.

“If I may?” Kakyoin cleared his throat to get the suspicious man’s attention before speaking again. “We’ve been forced to spend quite a bit of time with them in a fairly small location, so I’ve picked up a few things: Bucciarati’s favorite movie is ‘The Postman’. Mista has a superstition around the number four that boarders on a phobia. Narancia’s favorite drink is orange juice and he is terrible at basic math for his age. Fugo has stabbed Narancia in the face with a fork before and they both still argue about it. Giorno enjoys music by Jeff Beck-”

“Okay, that’s enough.” The man’s posture finally relaxed. “You convinced me the moment you mentioned Bucciarati’s favorite movie- he only admits that in friendly conversations.” He allowed his stand to disappear for the time being. “My name is Abbacchio. Now, you said Bucciarati and the others were back by the coliseum?”

“That is where we last saw them, yes.” Abdul replied with a shrug. “However, that was quite some time ago.”

“Well, I can just track their movements, even if they did leave.” Abbacchio started to walk in the indicated direction right as Polnareff returned.

The Frenchman ran up to the group, panting to catch his breath while holding something behind his back. “Sorry, I just didn’t want to leave this behind!” He grinned as he began to move his hands. “You’ll never guess what I found here!” He presented the group with something that surprised them all.

“Is that…the turtle?!” Joseph stared at the creature in question with a look of disbelief.

“I thought we left it behind back in Morioh?” Abdul was just as surprised as the others for a change, having no explanation for this bizarre turn of events.

Abbacchio turned back to them when he heard their exclamations, raising an eyebrow. “Coco Jumbo? What’s he doing here if the others are at the coliseum? They wouldn’t leave him behind..”

“Long story.” Polnareff waved off the others’ questions without a second thought before holding the turtle out towards his group expectantly. “You guys have to go inside. Trust me- there’s something you’ll DEFINITELY want to see in there!”

Jotaro eyed the smiling man suspiciously but, after seeing no signs of this being some sort of prank or joke, he reluctantly moved his hand to touch the key on the turtle’s back. “Fine…but call us out if there’s trouble.”

After receiving a nod and a thumbs up from their companion, everyone but Abbacchio and Polnareff moved to touch the turtle’s key (Iggy jumping up and perching on Jotaro’s shoulder so he could be taken inside as well).

The inside of the turtle’s stand was almost exactly as it had been when they left- minus all of the people from before and a slight rearrangement to the location of certain small pieces of furniture. At first, they thought the room was completely empty, and likely would have continued to think so if the sound of the refrigerator behind them opening hadn’t caught their attention.

“Let’s see if I still remember this..” A voice they knew all too well spoke from the same area.

“!!” They turned to look at the only other occupant of the room and they stared in shock at the figure currently pulling drinks out of the fridge.

“One regular cola for Mr.Joestar.” A glass bottle of cola was set down on the coffee table in the middle of the room.

“Hey now..I haven’t gotten so old that my eyes are playing tricks on me, right?!” Joseph rubbed at his eyes to make sure what he was seeing was real, but the image did not change.

“A cherry cola for Kakyoin.” A dark red can was set next to the bottle.

“It’s not your eyes, Mr.Joestar…unless we’re all getting too old…” Kakyoin didn’t take his eyes off of the person at the fridge.

“Small coffee-flavored milk for Iggy.” A carton of the flavored milk was opened and poured into a saucer before being placed on the ground by the table.

“Arroo..?” (Translation: “Who..?”) Iggy made a confused sound before moving closer to sniff the person curiously, his eyes widening as he recognized the scent. “!!” (Translation: “You’re-!!”)

“Iced Americano for Jotaro. You probably haven’t tried this yet, but trust me- you’ll be living off of this by your second year of college.” An iced coffee bottle with the described name was placed by the other drinks on the table.

“……” Jotaro watched the person carefully, torn somewhere between confused and concerned.

“And one green tea for Abdul- sorry it’s cold, I know you prefer it hot, but I don’t have a kettle or tea leaves in here.” A can of green tea joined the other drinks on the tabletop.

Abdul tried to voice the thought they all had on their minds, but it seemed hard for him to get the words out. “You…You’re-”

“Think I’ll stick with a bottle of Perrier this time- can’t beat a classic.” The man at the fridge stood to his full height, giving the others in the room their first complete look at him.

“-Polnareff?!” Abdul finished his exclamation right as the man turned to face them.

He grinned in response to their surprised expressions. “Good to know it really was impossible for you to forget me.”

The person they saw was indeed Jean-Pierre Polnareff, but he was quite different from the one they’d left outside of the turtle: For starters, he had dark bags under his eyes that spoke of many sleepless nights and years’ worth of hardships. One eye in particular looked worse than the other, though, bearing a long scar and a cloudiness that was still recognizable even under the sheer eyepatch he wore. The damage on his face (as well as the artificial fingers he still had like the version outside), was nothing compared to what had become of his legs that were apparently cut off mid-thigh and replaced with prosthetics that, logically, should not allow him to stand at all, let alone with the ease he was demonstrating.

Jotaro was the first one to recover from the shock of seeing Polnareff’s appearance. “You’re the Polnareff that worked with Giorno’s group, aren’t you?”

Polnareff took a seat on the couch while opening his sparkling water. “You’re as sharp as ever, Jotaro- or I guess I should say ‘you’re as sharp as I remember’, huh?” He gestured to the other seats around him after taking a quick swig of his beverage. “Go on, sit, we’ve got a lot to talk about.”

After a moment of unspoken deliberation, the group grabbed their drinks (minus Iggy who sat on the floor by his milk) and sat in the various chairs around the small room. Joseph took one of the armchairs directly across from Polnareff with Jotaro taking one closer to the opposite end of the couch. Kakyoin sat on the far end of the couch next to Jotaro while Abdul opted for the spot directly beside Polnareff.

“What happened to you?” Abdul gave the (now older) man beside him a concerned frown while looking him over from head to toe. “Was this Diavolo’s doing?”

“Ah, so you’ve already heard about all of that, huh? Younger-me was pretty surprised to see all of this, so I’m guessing you just found out about it pretty recently.” Polnareff’s smile faded slightly, giving him a more somber appearance as he began to speak of his own death. “Yeah…this was what happened after my original fight with Diavolo. I survived our first encounter, but he didn’t make it easy for me. After that I went into hiding before I found out about Bucciarati’s group and met them at the coliseum to give them the arrow.”

“You mean this?” Jotaro pulled the arrow they’d received from Silver Chariot Requiem out of his jacket and tossed it over to his older friend.

Polnareff caught the arrow easily with his good hand and looked it over with a melancholy smile. “You got it..I can’t believe it..I told Chariot to make sure you got it, but I didn’t think you’d actually…” He gripped the arrow tightly in his hand, looking down at his reflection in the metal. “I went through so much to keep this thing safe…I thought we’d finally succeeded after Giorno’s group managed to defeat Diavolo…but then I found myself here in this strange alternate version of the world and I could feel Silver Chariot Requiem moving around again, even though Bucciarati already defeated it..”

“Did you really ask them to destroy your stand?” Joseph popped the top off of his cola before continuing. “Weren’t you worried about what would happen to you?”

“My body was already dead by that point…as far as I was concerned, my life was over- I’d accepted it.” Polnareff sighed, waving off the question with his free hand and a shake of his head. “When Silver Chariot first changed into its Requiem form, it ended up switching the souls of everyone in the city- Giorno’s group swapped bodies and I ended up being swapped with this turtle. It’s a bit of a letdown, being stuck in this slow body all the time, but it ended up being a blessing in disguise since it kept me from dying.” He reclined back against the couch, looking up at the red ceiling that let them see the sky outside of the room. “This will probably take some getting used to, but at least I can stick around a bit longer and help Giorno, Mista, and Trish when this is all over.” After a moment of silence that felt awkward and tense, Polnareff looked back at the others and noticed that they all had pensive looks on their faces. “What? Was it something I said?”

Seeing after a moment that no one else was going to fess up, Kakyoin reluctantly bit the bullet and did so himself. “We…may have gotten into a fight with them because of you…”

“Quoi?!” Polnareff blinked twice while looking around the room. “You-You’re serious?”

“Mhm..” Abdul nodded slightly, resting his forehead on his hands with his elbows braced on his knees. “We used our stands on them…I tied up Mista with Magician’s red…Iggy bit Trish’s skirt…Mr.Joestar yelled at Bucciarati…Jotaro punched Giorno in the face…twice…”

“WhaaaaaaaAAAT?!” Polnareff nearly fell off of the couch with a startled sound. “Why would you DO that?! You guys are supposed to be on the same side, right?!”

Joseph cleared his throat, his fingers absentmindedly toying with the cap from his cola. “We thought you- well, the younger you- was dead and the Silver Chariot Requiem in the coliseum was his.”

“……” Polnareff stared at them for a few more minutes before he threw his head back in a hysterical fit of laughter. “Mon dieu! I can’t believe you actually did that!” He wiped away the tears of joy from his eyes, looking at the embarrassed expressions everyone had on their faces with a shit-eating grin. “I can understand Iggy and Jotaro..even Mr.Joestar…but Kakyoin and Abdul, too?!” He held his sides as another bout of laughter overtook him.

Jotaro scowled, pulling his hat down over his eyes to help hide his own embarrassment. “Yare yare…you’re too noisy..”

“Sorry, I’m sorry..” Polnareff gasped for breath, trying to reign in his laughter but keeping the grin on his face. “It’s just…I missed this so much! I missed how you guys would rush to defend each other and all of the bizarre, insane situations we’d find ourselves in. I mean, really: You guys got mad at a mafia group because they knew how I died in the future- which was THEIR past- and you thought that meant the past version of me was dead because my stand- which was already defeated before- showed up in its arrow-powered form…it doesn’t get any more bizarre than that! Who else would I hear a story like that from?” He looked at everyone, the joy in his voice changing to something more tender and caring. “It’s been so long since I got to be in the same room with everyone and laugh like this.” He smiled fondly at Joseph. “Mr.Joestar’s memory’s gotten so bad that he barely remembers who I am half the time…” He smirked at Jotaro. “I still get to see Jotaro pretty often, but Mr.Big-shot-working-dad is too busy between his career and Jolyne to take breaks for very long.” His smile softened as he looked to Abdul and Kakyoin. “And…well…it’s not like I had many other friends left to go to, you know…?” He wiped a few more tears from his eyes, though they didn’t seem like the same joyous ones from before.

“Polnareff..” Abdul gently placed one hand on Polnareff’s shoulder, offering him what small amount of solace and comfort he could.

A sound somewhere between a broken laugh and a sob left the Frenchman’s mouth as he tried to smile more despite the tears that continued to fall. “When younger-me found me…when he told me about what happened at the airport and about all of you coming back to life…I…well, I didn’t THINK I would lie to myself- not about something THAT important..it’s just…I couldn’t believe it…the idea of all of us sitting together, getting to talk, enjoying each other’s company one more time…I didn’t think it would be possible!” He attempted to scrub away his tears using his arm, leaving only the broken smile on his mouth visible. “I’m sorry…I’m happy, it’s just-!”

“Yare yare…” He heard Jotaro’s voice, suddenly sounding much closer than it was a moment ago. “Just shut up already.”

Suddenly, there were multiple hands on his arms and shoulders, along with a distinctive set of tiny dog-paws on his lap.

When he lowered his arm, Polnareff was surprised to see that it was not just Jotaro who had moved closer- everyone else had as well.

They were all holding him in an embrace similar to the one he had once shared with Jotaro and Joseph at the airport when they all said goodbye. Abdul was pressed against his side with one arm wrapped around his back. Kakyoin was beside Abdul with his hand on Polnareff’s forearm. On his other side, Joseph had an arm wrapped around Polnareff’s shoulders. Iggy was standing on his lap with his hind legs while his front legs steadied him against Polnareff’s torso so he could look him in the eyes easier. Lastly, Jotaro was beside his grandfather with one hand firmly gripping Polnareff’s arm.

“…!” Polnareff’s eyes widened at the feeling of the embrace before the tears started up again. He sobbed once, crumbling within the hold of friends he never thought he would see again. “Merci...Merci d'être mes amis.”

None of them needed to know French to know what those words meant, they each just gave Polnareff their usual smiles- however big or small- to let him know that they felt the same way about him.

They all stayed in the room with the future version of Polnareff for as long as they possibly could, knowing that it may very well be the last time he got to see any of them again. When they finally left, he gave them some parting words:

“Thank you…all of you…for both our time together now, as well as the time we spent together back then. I hope younger-me knows not to take the time he has with you for granted- and that he doesn’t make the same stupid mistakes I did when I was his age! He’d better tell you guys how much he cares about each and every one of you and how much he loves the time he’s spending with you because, for me, those months we spent together were the best days of my life. Oh, and TRY to go easy on Giorno and the others, okay? I know you’re mad at them for not saying anything about me, but they lost just as many people fighting Diavolo as we did fighting DIO…so..cut them some slack, okay? For my sake? I’d appreciate it…take care, everyone- of each other, and younger-me too. And…thank you…for being my friends.”

As they exited the turtle, they found themselves back at the entrance to the coliseum. Polnareff had been waiting by the turtle and, before the others could ask what they missed, he put a finger to his lips and gestured for them to follow him.

The Crusaders entered the coliseum together, arriving just in time to see a much needed reunion…

Giorno’s group had stayed in the coliseum, sitting down for a few minutes and taking care of any bruises or scrapes they’d received during their minor scuffles with Silver Chariot Requiem as well as Jotaro’s group.

“Hold still, Giorno.” Mista had improvised an ice-pack for the swelling bruise on Giorno’s face using some cold pieces of metal (softened by Trish and Spice Girl to avoid adding unnecessary pressure) and some spare cloth.

“Thanks, Mista…” Giorno’s eyebrows twitched slightly from the sting of the cooling pack touching his bruised face, but his gloomy expression remained otherwise unchanged as he stared at his hands where they rested on his lap.

“Seriously?” The word was accompanied by the clacking of heeled shoes over dirt and rock. “I rush over here to find you, and you’re all just sitting around licking your wounds?”

“!!!!” The eyes of everyone sitting within the coliseum suddenly snapped up to the figure who had just walked in.

“N…No way..!” Mista stared with wide eyes.

“He’s..!” Trish’s eyes began to mist over with tears, her hands going to her mouth as she gasped.

Fugo looked at the others with a frown. “Hey, didn’t you guys tell me he was-?”

“He was..” Giorno’s eyes remained locked on the new comer. “But…so were Narancia and Bucciarati…”

Bucciarati initially had the same surprised reaction as the others, but his look of shock quickly melted into a relieved, teary-eyed smile. “You’re-”

“ABBACCHIO!!!!!!” Narancia cried as he sprang to his feet, practically sprinting to cover the distance between himself and the older man so that he could throw his arms around him in a bone-crushing hug.

Abbacchio nearly fell over from the force of the tackle, digging his heels into the dirt to just barely remain standing. “Oof!” He began pulling on the back of the boy’s shirt, trying to dislodge him. “Hey, Narancia, you’d better not be wiping your snotty nose on me, you little sh-!”

“You-You-You were dea-ead! We were o-only gone for a few mi-inutes, and-and-a-and when we got back, you were..you were..!!” Narancia sobbed, refusing to let go as if he were afraid Abbacchio may disappear if he did so. “We-We h-ha-a-had to leave you beh-h-hi-ind! I didn’t want t-to, but-but Bucciarati said we h-had to-o-o!”

“……” Abbacchio’s annoyed glare softened slightly and the hand that had been trying to pull the boy away instead patted him on the back. “Alright, alright, I get it..it’s fine. Bucciarati made the right call- it was too dangerous for you to stay there.”

Bucciarati was the next one to walk over, giving the ex-cop a caring look and tender smile that said far more than his mouth did. “Welcome back..Leone.”

Abbacchio returned the look with a slightly softer (well, soft for him, at least) smile of his own. “Sorry I took so long..Bruno.”

The rest of the gang steadily made their way over to their newly revived comrade, happily welcoming him back…except for Giorno.

Giorno’s eyes drifted to the coliseum’s entrance where he saw Jotaro’s group silently observing them. He made his way over to them after quietly placing the make-shift icepack on the ground. “Thank you,” He said once he was close enough, looking up at Jotaro with an expression that was slightly more open than his usual looks. “For bringing him back to us.” He looked out to where his friends were celebrating Abbacchio’s return, a soft smile on his face as he watched the older man try once again to pull Narancia (who had stopped crying as much and begun to laugh while stubbornly clinging to the longer-haired man) off of him. “He was the first casualty in our fight against Diavolo..losing him..was one of the worst things that we went through..” He returned his attention to Jotaro’s group, looking up at Jotaro himself with a slight frown. “You were right about us…we were scared of changing our timeline…we lost Abbacchio, Narancia, Bucciarati, and even Polnareff, all so we could defeat Diavolo and keep him from getting the power of the arrow…each loss broke us more and more, but they all contributed something that ultimately led to Diavolo’s defeat…after everything we lost to get that far, the thought of changing something and having to go through all of that again- to lose everyone and risk losing EVERYTHING to Diavolo with all of our sacrifices meaning NOTHING…it was terrifying to think about.” He bowed his head, no longer meeting the taller teen’s gaze. “That doesn’t excuse what we did..what we hid from Polnareff and risked putting him through..and for that, I am sorry.” His fists clenched at his sides, a barely visible tremor going through his shoulders. “With time, I hope that you may see m- see us in a different light-”

“Yare yare daze..” Jotaro’s annoyed voice cut Giorno’s apology short. “Just shut up already.”

Giorno looked back up at Jotaro with an expression that bordered on pleading. “But, I-!”

“Don’t waste time saying things that don’t need to be said.” Jotaro’s hand came down to rest firmly on Giorno’s shoulder. “We all said things we didn’t need to already…so let’s just keep moving.”

“!!” Giorno understood the unspoken sentiment all too well, and it made the slightest of smiles return to his face. “You’re right…we have far too much to do to dwell on the past.”

“Exactly. Now come on, we’ve still got work to do.” Jotaro gave the shorter boy a slight smile of his own, letting go of his shoulder and heading inside the coliseum with the rest of his friends.

There was still a lot that needed to be done. Bridges to mend. Wounds to heal. But, in the end, if there was one thing that both sides could come to an understanding on, it was the hardship of losing cherished friends and comrades due to tragic and bizarre circumstances beyond their control.

Perhaps that understanding would be enough to bring them together- just as it always seemed to bring the Joestars and their allies together in the end.

End Notes: So, this idea was one that my sister and I came up while eating at a sushi buffet one day. I love the Eyes of Heaven game and have probably played through the story at least 5 times. While we were eating, we talked about how the different stages you could fight in were different in the story mode versus the regular modes and how they had more interactive elements outside of the story mode. On that topic, we talked about how the coliseum had both Silver Chariot Requiem and Polnareff’s soul in the turtle body present, and how messed up it would be if the stardust crusaders (among other characters) could react to that sort of thing- thus this premise was born!

I also decided to add Abbacchio because he does technically appear in the picture alongside the rest of Passione in their little “Happy Ending” universe picture, but he was tragically one of the characters that got cut from the game in its early stages because, according to my sister, they couldn’t figure out what to do with him mechanics-wise. Which is a shame because I would’ve loved to see the entire gang reunited, so I added him in here for that reason alone x3

#JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #Jojo no Kimyou na Bouken #jjba #eyes of heaven #100 follower giveaway! #avpol #(just a little bit sorry I couldn't resist -_-') #Jotaro Kujo #noriaki kakyoin #Joseph Joestar #mohammed avdol #Jean Pierre Polnareff #iggy #giorno giovanna #mista #bucciaratti #fugo #narrancia #trish una #abbacchio #diavolo #mariah #hol horse

[jennifercrowart]

D&D Diary - The Yawning Rodent, 4

Refresher: Our adventurers Lugs (grung barbarian), Lurk (grung rogue), Aelia (tiefling cleric), Valas (drow sorcerer), and tagalong Meepo (kobold) were able to unlock a series of rooms in the citadel that had been left untouched for ages, and defeated a starved troll that had once been entombed alive inside. Amazed by the party's strength, Meepo began leading them towards the Goblin Gang's territory to find the Kobold Gang's stolen dragon, but after a small splitting of the party to explore some adjacent rooms and dungeon cells, Lugs stumbled into the main nest of the giant spiders and their giant spider mother. Aelia was surrounded by the spiders, and Meepo chugged his potion of fire breath as her ran forward to help her...

Sunless Citadel spoilers!

Although the giant spider mother doesn't go down easily, the party regroups and are able to dispatch her spider children and not get caught in the sticky web attacks. While she bears down on Lugs, Meepo surprisingly deals the finishing blow, sending an arc of fire breath towards her from over the grung and ending the fight after Valas weakens her attacks with a Frostbite spell.

Aelia, not hurt too badly, immediately begins scouring through the large spider nest now that no one's home. She finds some gems and coins from the decaying corpses amongst the webs - mostly kobolds and goblins who had ended up as the spiders' dinners, but one of the bodies is that of a human. They're dressed in fancy, flashy boutique rogue armour that looks more for show than for use, but her backpack is full of adventuring gear, and she bears a gold ring on her finger. Aelia, concerned it's the Hucrele daughter the party were hired to find, inspects the ring but finds that it's engraved with a different name: Reignbow. More importantly, the ring isn't worth nearly as much as the Hucrele's signet rings should be.

As they'd found with the magic dragon-shaped fountain that flowed with the potion of fire breath earlier, the party notices another similar fountain in this area, too. Valas asks Meepo to translate and read out the Draconic inscription on it like he's done before, and he reads, "Let there be death." Suddenly, a dark red mist sprays out from the dragon statue's mouth, and while Valas is able to get out of the area just in time to not suffer any harmful effects, Meepo is left clutching at his burning and itching throat while his eyelids swell from the poison. Lugs is able to pull him out as he's immune to poison by virtue of being a grung, and offers Meepo the potion of healing the group had looted from Reignbow's bag. Meepo goes to gladly take it, but Valas stays Lugs' hand, assessing Meepo's condition to not be that bad and the little kobold just needing a rest to feel much better.

The adventurers are weary after the fight, and feel in need of a long rest soon anyway, as they've been exploring for about 8 hours now. It's hard to tell the time of day or night it is inside the Sunless Citadel beneath the earth, but it should be morning now, and - having begun their dungeon diving last night - they sorely need to sleep. Lugs is keen to return to the Rats' Nest and the Yawning Rodent for a hot meal and a  proper bed, but the rest of the group agrees to save the travel time and just camp out in the nearby dungeon cells instead, now that they're clear of spiders. While taking watches in shifts - Lugs and Lurk using their watch to sit in the barrel of water Lugs carries around on his back, to refresh their moist grung skin - the group is able to sleep peacefully through the daytime hours, with seemingly nothing left in this part of the citadel to disturb them. The party becomes level 2!

After waking, they go back the way Lurk had tried exploring before Lugs had stumbled about the giant spider mother's nest. Nothing had previously come of triggering the bell on the door, and the steel tooth traps he'd laid out were untouched. He's able to slowly open the door without ringing it this time and edge around it to disarm the trap, although not without being noticed by goblins that are on guard in this new hallway, ready with bows behind a short wall. Meepo cowers behind Valas as he sees some of the Goblin Gang members who have given the Kobold Gang so much trouble.

The bandits start shooting, and one of them lands a critical hit on Lurk, the arrow embedding itself in his shoulder! Lugs flies into a fury, recklessly charging after them and ignoring the five caltrops scattered pathetically along the hallway as the goblins turn tail and flee deeper into their territory. Lurk is next in line, chasing after them with his two short swords, while Lugs yells in Grung that the goblins have messed up big time by hurting his brother. Although they regroup with a second defensive wall with more goblins at the ready behind it, Lugs swats each one with his club like he's swatting flies, blind with rage. The chase runs through a training hall and into a new corridor, Lugs killing the last of the guards on watch just feet away from what turns out to be a guard room.

The reinforcements from the guard room get the drop on the party, but still don't prove to be much trouble, especially when Aelia, Valas, and Meepo are able to catch up and deal some ranged attacks. One last goblin guard is left cowering in the corner, badly hurt and pleading that he'll tell them anything they want in exchange for his life. Valas asks where the Goblin Gang is keeping the dragon they stole from the Kobold Gang, and he says it's just in a room down the end of the nearby corridor. With that information, Lugs knocks the goblin out cold, and they leave him there. With the fight over, Lugs asks if Lurk is ok. Although he's very badly hurt and about to pass out, bleeding from arrow and scimitar wounds, Lurk says he's ok. When no one else believes him, Aelia is at last reminded to use some of her cleric healing magic on him.

Suddenly, Meepo calls the adventurers over from the training hall, saying he can hear several people yelling for help in Common and Draconic from one of the adjacent rooms. Already having looted some of the bodies, Aelia produces the key needed to unlock it, and they find that it's been used as a dungeon cell; three starving kobolds are chained up with manacles to benches lining the dank room, and in the back is a small cage with an even smaller ratfolk inside it!

The other kobolds recognise Meepo, surprised that, out of everyone, he's the one who's managed to save them - although, he does have help! They're other members of the Kobold Gang who had been captured by the Goblin Gang to hold for ransom. Lugs, with a crowbar in each hand, bends open the cage bars so the small, frail ratfolk boy can hop out. He introduces himself as Deku, the missing brother the blacksmith asked the party to find. Aelia is thrilled, exclaiming that Big Oak was going to pay them in return for Deku's rescue. Despite this, Deku is cheerful, and grateful that they've helped him break free, though he needs to find his belongings that the goblins confiscated from him. He explains that, although he'd promised Boak that he wouldn't go further than the cavern at the top of the Sunless Citadel's gorge, he'd been too eager to explore and had poked around inside the citadel's entrance. He was captured by a group of goblin bandits lead by a hobgoblin who said they could ransom him back to the Rat's Nest for a good price, so he was stripped of his gear and locked up in this cell a few days ago. Being born chronically ill, he really needs his stuff back so he can access his regular medicines again, as well as needing his holy symbol so he can use his magic as a cleric of the Life Domain.

Fortunately, the party had come across a pile of confiscated equipment in the Goblin Gang guard room they'd been to already, remembering seeing a backpack on top of the pile. After Lugs smashes the manacles on the other prisoners so they can return to the Kobold Gang territory, the group backtracks so Deku can pick up his stuff. Rooting around in his backpack, he starts to panic when he realises that his library book - Cults Around The World, which he was using as a reference point to study the Sunless Citadel and the cult it previously housed - is missing from it. At least reassured that his rescuers are strong enough to help him find it, he takes his medicines, retrieves his quarterstaff which he also uses as a walking aid, and puts on a breastplate that looks much too large and heavy for his tiny frame. He shows the group that, yes, it may be a bit big and slow down his walking speed with its weight, but he can slip inside it like a turtle!

Resuming their search for the Kobold Gang's dragon next, with Meepo mentioning that her name is Calcryx, they approach the room the now-unconscious goblin guard told them about. Deku, reunited with his Rat King holy symbol, casts Detect Evil and Good, but doesn't sense anything such as undead, elementals, aberrations, fiends, or celestials behind the door, as well as no consecrated or desecrated objects. The wooden door is locked, and when Lugs tries to break it in, he's unable to because it's been reinforced with tacked-on steel to strengthen it.

Lurk is able to pick the lock, and when they step inside, they find that the dark room is in disarray, with furniture and tacky trophies knocked over and strewn about the floor. Out from behind a tipped-over table stalks the white dragon wyrmling, her eyes glinting with hostility as she's about to pounce on our adventurers...

#dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #dungeons & dragons #dm diary #dungeon master #the yawning rodent #the sunless citadel

[dermankey]

Lucas and the Vampire - Part 2

         Lucas arrived at Rose’s house promptly at eight fifty-five, the sun having set not too long ago and the moon in the sky. Stepping out of his dark crimson Cadillac, he was dressed in a buttoned down shirt with small green circles of various shades on it and a black pair of dress shorts. He originally thought to wear pants, but the night was much too warm for that.          The house that stood in front of him was just as Rose described it: larger than the other houses on the block and a deep purple with black accents. It gave off the feel of a haunted mansion one would see at an amusement park. Then again, Lucas thought as he walked across the lawn’s pathway and up the stairs, this is the home of a vampire.          The house had a large front porch, but there was not a single thing on it save for the welcome mat in front of the door that read “Welcome to our haunt!”. It made Lucas feel a bit unnerved but also a bit nervous, as the whole setup almost made the house feel abandoned. There was no doorbell, but a brass knocker on the door, which had a smiling styrofoam bat stuck to it. He took hold of it and rapped it three times, making it feel like the whole house was shaking.

         He stood there for a moment, and was quickly put at ease by the sound of incoming footsteps. The door opened, revealing a woman who looked like she had just woken up. She was wearing a Beatles shirt that was very obviously too big for her, nearly reaching her knees. Her hair was short and dark as the night, with her skin looking slightly paler than Rose’s did.          The woman at the door blinked twice. “Who...who’re you?” She asked, yawning mid-sentence.          “Uh, hello, I’m Lucas,” he greeted with a friendly grin. “I’ve come to pick up Rose.”          “...oh, yes! I remember you now!” She exclaimed with a laugh, sounding a lot more awake. Her accent sounded much stronger than Rose’s. “Rose told me about you. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lucas! I’m her cousin Violet. Please do come in.”          The inside of the Bailey home was a lot more inviting than the outside was. In fact, it seemed relatively normal for a home of vampires. The main entrance entered into a living room that had the classic set up of a couch and chair, both leather, and a coffee table. Along the right wall was mostly a staircase, with a single doorway leading to what looked like a den. Across the room was another doorway that led into a kitchen.          “Rose!” Violet called up the stairs, “Come down! Lucas is here to take you out on your date!”          “Be down in a minute!” She called back.            “Well, I wouldn’t call this a date, really,” Lucas laughed awkwardly in response. “It’s just a...more like a night out, than anything else.”          “Same thing, different name,” she gave him a sly smirk. “To-may-to, to-ma-to, as they say.”          Lucas gave a slight nod as a kind gesture. “So, is it just you and Rose in this great big manor of yours?”          “When she visits, yes,” Violet smiled, clasping her hands in front of her. “Usually it’s just me and the occasional guest that stops by. You see, I’ve recently begun renting out some of my unused bedrooms for a bit of cash, as it is not cheap to keep a house this big running. Fortunately, I’ve only had other vampires come in, so I don’t have to worry too much for breakfast for them, but there is still the odd human or werewolf who pops in. In fact, there was this one chap who came here a week ago and stayed here for quite a bit. When he was here, he and Rose had such grand conversations on vampire culture and—.”          “Vi, please do not bore my new friend so quickly,” Rose spoke as she descended the stairs, her voice and clicking of her high heels being heard before being seen. She wore a one-piece dress that was tan in color and decorated in a red floral pattern. While it did flow behind her, the front part of it was removed, revealing her legs that were covered only to the top of her knees. Her brown hair also appeared to be curled slightly, most notably at the bottom of it, and across her shoulder was a silver purse. “Not everyone is so intrigued by our lives as housemaids.”          “Oh, Rose!” Violet made a mock-scowl at her, and turned back to Lucas with a smile. “My apologies if I did bore you. I do tend to ramble on now and again.”          “It’s fine. Happens to the best of us from what I’ve seen,” Lucas assured. “Ready to roll, Rose?”          “Ready, indeed,” the vampire said with a smile. “And might I add you look rather handsome tonight.”          “Oh, uh, thanks,” Lucas blushed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “You look nice, too.”          “Oh, this old thing?” She asked playfully, spreading out the flowing part of her dress. “I just put this on when I want to feel pretty.”          Before they left, Violet called Rose back just as they were descending the stairs. From where he was, Lucas could not make out whatever she was telling her, but she seemed somewhat angry at Rose. Despite that, Violet’s expression softened and the two hugged, and Rose quickly rejoined Lucas down to his car.          “So, if you don’t mind me asking,” Lucas began as they drove through the residential square, “what did Violet tell you?”          “Playing the nosy game again, are we?” Rose said with a smile. “Well, she just so happened to warn me that the Miller family has a track record of doing terrible, unspeakable things when they are alone with a woman.”          “I would—!” Lucas began defensively, then thought for a moment. “You’re joking, right?”          Rose giggled. “See, now you’re getting it. No, she just told me to be careful out here, that there are bad humans out in the night. Common big sister like stuff.”          Lucas nodded. “That’s nice of her. Are you two close?”          “Close? We practically are sisters,” Rose said with a laugh. “We have been together for as long as I can remember. We haven’t always lived together, mind you, but we have always kept in touch. She is all the family I really have left, and I really care about her.” She turned and looked out the window, the quiet houses replaced with the loud lit up stores as they entered the city.          “Are you...gonna be okay, Rose?” Lucas asked, turning to look at her as they were at a red light.          “Uh? Oh, I’ll be fine. It was years ago, anyways,” she assured him, and her smile quickly came back on. “So what is this hidden gem of a restaurant you hinted at earlier?”          “Just a little place called Pierre’s,” Lucas told her. “It’s a local restaurant, but it’s pretty darn good. And no, before you ask, it’s not French, it’s just the owner’s name. In fact, here it is up on the left.”          The front of the restaurant—which was the only part visible as the rest was embedded in the block—was made of a red-brown wood, with a single line of windows high enough to just make out the heads of the people eating inside. Higher than the windows was the name Pierre’s written in a golden cursive.          Fortunately, there was a parking spot along the side of the road not far from the restaurant, which Lucas quickly took advantage of. Inside the restaurant, square tables filled the majority of the room, with a single row of booths along the left wall. At the very back was a bar that boasted a large wall of drinks, as well as the doors to the bathroom and the kitchen, the latter of which had waiters popping in and out at a constant rate. The whole place was nearly full, with almost every table seated with people dressed both casually and formally, the combined chatter of them nearly drowning out the swing music that was playing.          Lucas walked up to the host at the stand. “Yes, hello. Reservation under ‘Miller.’”          “Yes, right this way,” the host nodded after checking his book, guiding the two to an unoccupied booth. A waitress soon followed after him, asking for their orders on drinks. Lucas ordered a coke, while Rose got a wine.          “Way to be the dutiful designated driver, Lucas,” Rose joked from behind the menu.          Lucas gave a small laugh. “Well, someone’s got to be it. I’m not really a big fan of liquor anyways. Maybe every once in a while, and on special occasions, but usually not when I go out.”          “Is not tonight a special occasion?” Rose asked, leaning over the table slightly, the menu now flat on it. “Or do you get to date beautiful girls every Friday night?”          Lucas’s face flared up as he tried to hide it slightly behind his menu. “Well, um...we were going to continue our conversation we had earlier?”          “Yes, I believe we were,” Rose agreed, rubbing her chin as she laid back on the cushioned seat, “Now let’s see. You asked if vampires still eat normal food, am I correct?” Lucas nodded. “Well, we can, but it does not do much, so we tend not to. Most of our strength and energy comes from drinking blood, and one would not need protein and nutrients when one’s body has stopped being alive. Sometimes, though, if we eat food often enough, we develop the feeling of being hungry again.”          “That’s interesting,” Lucas commented. “So, what about other stuff you like to do besides reading?”          “Other stuff?” She pondered, tapping the tabletop in thought. “I do like—oh, this is sort of embarrassing—but I do like to play video games.”          “Really?” Lucas responded, a smile coming onto his face. “That’s cool. Play anything good recently?”          “Oh, I know! How—!” She began somewhat dramatically, but stopped herself in surprise. “Uh, pardon me?”          “Have you played anything good recently?” He asked again, this time noticeably slower. “Sorry, I just talk fast sometimes. It’s something I’m working to get better at.”          “Okay, um,” Rose started again, seemingly at a loss for words, “I have been playing some of Dragon Quest XI on the Switch.”          “Nice. I haven’t gotten the chance to play that yet, but I want to!” Lucas said. “Never really was into the series before, but it piqued my interest when they put the Hero into Smash Bros.”          “Oh, yes! I have gotten into Smash, too, recently,” Rose replied, a smile growing on her face. “I like to think I play a pretty good Inkling.”          “We should totally get together for some quality Smash time, then!” He declared. “We’ll see how well you do against my Mega Man.”          The waitress soon returned to their table, their drinks in hand. She also got their orders: Lucas a classic reuben with fries, and Rose a New York strip. “As rare and bloody as you are willing to serve it,” Rose added. The waitress gave her an odd look, but nonetheless took the order and went off.          “The less cooked the meat is, the more blood remains inside of it,” Rose explained to Lucas as she sipped her wine. “Plus, it makes the blood taste like steak. That is a thing a vampire with experience only knows.” She winked at him.          “Cool. So, back to what we were talking about—.”          “Hold on there,” Rose stopped him with a raise of her hand. “You got the drink order round. It’s my turn to find out about you.”          Lucas smirked. “Alright then. Ask away! I’m an open book!”          “Ooh, my favorite,” Rose giggled to herself. “Where to start...I believe you said you worked at a comic shop?”          “Yep. Old Maelstrom Comic down on Blizzard Boulevard,” Lucas confirmed proudly. “I’m one of the founders there, actually.”          “Oh?” Rose said in surprise.          “That’s how most people react to that,” Lucas chuckled. “Me and my pal Regina started it up, like, six years ago. We got some pretty big names like Marvel and IDW selling at our place, and we even got some local comics on the shelves. There’s also something of an open mic night Regina started up a couple of weeks ago, which we run alongside some local card and video game tournaments.”          “Sounds like quite the all around comic shop,” Rose commented.          Lucas leaned back in his seat, looking wistful. “Hard to imagine that two kids like me and Reggie fresh outta college could start up a pretty successful comic shop. We even get people from outside Calume at our tournaments sometimes. Oh, yeah! We’re having a Smash Bros. tournament coming up in a couple of weeks. It’s gonna start pretty late, so you should be good to come.”          “I will see if I can be there,” Rose smiled. “Now what else are you into besides your silly comic books and video games?”           Lucas thought for a moment, making an exaggerated thinking expression that got a small laugh out of Rose. “Well,” he began, “I’ve started drawing again after I dropped it a year ago. I’ve gotten a bit rusty from not doing for a while, but it’s been fun being able to just draw whatever pops in my head.”          “An artist, eh?” Rose raised an eyebrow and bit part of her bottom lip. “You wouldn’t happen to have some certain...life drawings, would you?”          Lucas sighed, but smiled. “Yes, Rose,” he whispered to her. “I did draw some nude models. It was a part of my college drawing class.”          “Glad to know I’m dealing with an experienced man, then.”          “And just what is that supposed to mean?”          “Maybe you will find out when you are older,” Rose jokes, smiling as she sipped her wine. “Just know that if you ever need something to draw, you know where to find me.”          Lucas’s cheeks flared up, and before he could say anything the waitress returned with their food. “Are you sure you're okay with your steak being that rare, Miss?” She asked Rose, indicating the large streak of red that revealed itself when she cut open the steak.          “Yes, this is just fine. Thank you,” Rose confirmed with a nod and a smile. The waitress gave her another odd look, this time with a bit of concern, and took off without another word.          Even Lucas was looking at Rose’s meal with a raised eyebrow. “Jeez, it’d be generous to even call that steak cooked.”          “Remember who you are dealing with here,” Rose reminded him as she cut off a small chunk of steak. Instead of putting it in her mouth right away, she stuck her fangs right into it and a small sucking sound could be heard. Slowly, the red faded into pink, and before the pink faded all the way she dislodged her fangs and ate the piece normally. “I tend to not suck all of the juice out so there is still some flavor left over.”          “Huh. Rad,” Lucas chuckled, and began on his sandwich.          “Pffff, ha ha!” Rose barely tried to hold back the laughter. “Lucas Miller, of every human I have ever met, you are by far the most relaxed in response to my vampirism. If I may be so bold to ask, how is that possible?”         “Well,” Lucas paused as he swallowed the bite in his mouth, “you seemed pretty nice when we were first talking, and you didn’t really change your demeanor when you revealed you are a vampire. So I didn’t see any reason to treat you any differently if you weren’t gonna, like, suck my blood out of anything, heh heh.”         Rose did not laugh. “You seemed a bit too trusting there,” Rose replied as she cut off and sucked on another piece of her steak.         Lucas shook his head with closed eyes. “No, no. No offense to you, Rose, but I don’t completely trust you yet. You haven’t done anything to get me to not trust you, but you haven’t earned my full trust. Does that make sense?”          Rose took the steak chunk away from her fangs, any traces of pink completely sucked out of it. She looked up at him with a soft smile. “I understand, Lucas. So, got anything else that is interesting about you?”          The two continued talking over their meal, though discussion was sparse as they focused on their food. When they finished, the waitress returned and presented them with the dessert menu. Lucas passed, but Rose eagerly ordered a strawberry shortcake.          “What was that about vampires and not needing to eat food?” Lucas commented on her enthusiasm for the desert with a smirk.          “Oh, hush,” Rose playfully told him with a wave of her hand. “Shortcakes used to be my favorite desert when I was alive. They are one of the few things I still enjoy having every once in a while.”          “Alright, but now I remember something I wanted to ask you: when were you alive?”          A slight grin came to the vampire’s face. “I’ll tell you, when you trust me, capiche?”          “Fair enough.”          When the waitress returned, she had both Rose’s desert and the check, which Lucas quickly snatched up. When both were done, they headed out and went back in the direction of Rose’s house. “Hold on, turn right here,” Rose spoke up at an intersection, at which her home was usually straight ahead at. “I want to show you something.”          The alternate path took them to the outer edge of the residential area along a straight road. The moon was now visible and high in the sky above all the rooftops, giving a slight illumination to the city. “You can park right along there,” she pointed out to an open spot on the right side of the road.          “The cemetery?” Lucas questioned as he parked his car. “Um, any particular reason for coming here?”          “It’s nothing personal, mind you,” Rose assured him as the two got out. “I just find this to be a quiet place for an evening stroll.”          “Through a graveyard?”          “Well,” Rose asked, “have you ever been to a loud graveyard? Come on, Lucas, don’t you want to trust me?” She stood at the cemetery’s entrance, her hand extended to him.          Lucas gave her a cautious look. “...okay, I’ll trust you.”          He took her hand, and she playfully pulled him across the entrance’s threshold and by her side. There was a premade path in the cemetery, wide enough for two people to walk by in opposite directions. Save for the moonlight, the two walked together in near complete darkness, with Rose’s hands clasped behind her and Lucas’s stuffed in his pockets.          “Were you,” Lucas spoke with great hesitation, “ever...buried in a graveyard?”          “No, but being buried is part of becoming a vampire sometimes,” Rose stated in such a way that he decided to just drop the topic.          Eventually, the graveyard dissipated around them as they entered the next door park. A bench appeared on the path, and the two took a seat, looking up into the night sky that was empty save for the moon and the clouds that were lighter in color than the sky.          Slowly, Rose began nudging herself closer to Lucas’s side, until she was close enough to rest her head on his shoulder. She could feel him tighten up for a moment in surprise, and she could so clearly smell the blood that flowed right under his skin. Her fangs were already out, part in anticipation and part in routine, and she exhaled with a smile on his neck, sending a shiver through him.          Just as she was about to say something, Lucas quickly started before her. “R-Rose,” he began a bit hesitant, “I just wanted to say I really enjoyed our night together. Probably one of the more enjoyable nights I’ve had this week.” He laughed a bit, and to her surprise she felt his arm slide behind her and around her waist. “You seem like a really cool person, and I’d, and I’d like to get to know you better. Maybe we could do something like this again? Something a bit more casual?”          Rose’s smile was gone from her face, replaced with a look of contemplation. Lucas’s face, on the other hand, had a healthy amount of blush on his cheeks and his mouth was curved in nervousness. Neither of them could see the other’s face as silence filled the air around them, save for the sound of the creatures of the night.          “...Rose?” Lucas asked.          Rose sat up and looked at him. “Lucas, your hand, please.”          He was confused for a moment, then realized. “Oh! Uh, sorry.” He retracted his hand from behind her. “I-I just thought that—.”          In another moment of surprise, Rose took his hand and held her free one over it. She mumbled something that Lucas could not make out, but as she spoke her fingertips glowed purple and a tingly feeling came onto Lucas’s palm. When she let go of his hand, he saw a phone number written onto it, accompanied by a smiley face with fangs. “Just a little something vampires can learn naturally,” Rose explained, “and don’t worry, it comes off with soap and water. Just make sure you get it down first.” She gave him a fanged grin.          A goofy grin came across Lucas’s face alongside his returning blush. “So, um,” he began as he stood up offering his hand to her, “how about something like this on Sunday?”         “Asking a vampire out on a holy day?” Rose sounded appalled, putting her hand to her chest dramatically. “You have quite the nerve, Lucas Miller.”          “I get the feeling you don’t really care,” Lucas replied as the vampire got up and took his hand. “I was never big into religion myself anyways.”          “That makes two of us then,” Rose smiled, and the two walked back the way they came, the air between them now filled with jokes and laughter and their hands together.

         “You can just drop me off,” Rose told him as they pulled up at her cousin’s house. “It’s pretty late for you, isn’t it?”          “Yeah, it is. Jeez, eleven already. Where does the night go?” Lucas sighed with a smile as Rose got out of his car. “Well, see you Sunday, then.”          “Until then,” Rose waved goodbye as Lucas drove off. She walked up to the path to the house and gave a sharp rap on the door with a single knuckle.          “Come in!” Violet called, and Rose did so. Her cousin was seated on the couch, wearing a gray college sweater and black shorts. She was halfway through some slices of toast and had the old widescreen TV turned on to a show with a black cat in a red cape on screen. As Rose closed the door behind her, Violet asked, “So, how was this Lucas tonight? Was he an adequate meal?”          “Actually, I let him live tonight,” Rose told her as she pulled off her high heels with a happy sigh.          “Oooo!” Violet replied with genuine surprise. “Is Rose finally feeling charitable tonight? Or has she finally given into her true desires?”          “Hmph,” Rose smirked, somewhat amused. “Don’t get any ideas, Vi. He merely amused me and nothing more, so I’ll let him live a little longer. I wouldn’t be one to give up O negative so easily.”          “If you say soooo,” Violet teased in a singsong voice.          “And I do,” Rose assured her as she began ascending the stairs. “Maybe if you're lucky, I can bring him here and we can share him.”

#Lucas and the Vampire #Part 2 #Lucas #Rose #Violet #vampire #vampires #ocs #OC

[starfaring-princelotor]

The Prison Kingdom

Chapter 2: To Create A Name

-

Summary: With new companions comes new information you were unaware of before.

Warnings: Mentions of suicide and blood.

★ Disclaimer: I do not ship Lotura and I respectfully ask that this story to not be tagged as Lotura. This is a Lotor x Reader/Self-Insert OC story which is in no way related to Lotura at all. Please be respectful of my chosen pairing. ★

A/N: Click here to learn more about fairies.

1 . 2 .

-

“I didn’t know pirates can read.”

“Aye, fancy that, eh? Learn something new with every rising sun,” you closed your book then fully turned your attention to the man leering over your shoulder, “I didn’t know that incubus’ can be nosy, little whelps, and yet, here we are, mate.”

Lance, he said his name was. Young faced with an offended scrunched up frown because of your comment, he seemed fresh to the battles of blades. And of insults. Rule number one when growing up under the honorable tutelage of your aged seafarer captain: whatever you do, do it well. May he rest in peace, the poor fool who took a cannonball to the gut. 

“Hey! I’m not nosy!” came his witty reply, accompanied by a muttered grumble.

You took that as his white flag.

“Pirate.” 

“Aye, capitain?”

Shiro said nothing else, only gave you that good old “stop picking on the soldiers” look. You shrugged in response. He stated that he needed to stop by his neighboring guilds and request assistance from a few specific set of people. And thus, along with you and a few others who gathered at Altea, Shiro created a small group of warriors for this expedition. 

There was Ulaz, a powerful necromancer who channeled spirit energy from the dead to do his bidding. Attractive mercenary with those glowing eyes and pointed ears, leader of the Blue Tail Guild. Then that one golem from the deep mountains, what was her name? Shay of the Yellow Eyes faction? Those fancy jewels embedded in her rocky exterior were tempting, but you were sure she could pack a punch if you tried to use your five-finger discount. And, last but not least, a dryad ghost who calls himself Rolo, belonging to the Green Claw Guild. His skills with traveling between planes of existence at ease would be most useful for scouting. 

Right now, the only one left was meant to be meeting at this farm on the outskirts of a small, unnamed village. Someone from the Red Teeth Guild, supposedly the one King Alfor led until his untimely demise. Her name was Hira, one of the Alteans who was tasked with defending the royal family. Keyword: was. She gave up that title and dedicated her life to hunting monsters with vengeance, more importantly the dragon that razed Altea to the ground. Though she lacked the magical abilities passed down by her ancestors, she made up for it in pure strength as a berserker. 

“- He is ready, Shiro. I have seen the boy fight alongside Lance, they both would make worthy comrades in battle.”

You could sense the pride and ushering tone in, who you assumed, was Hira. Off in the distance, the two boys mentioned were tending to a bull peacefully. Out here, it was easy to fall into the dull sense of a domestic life. A farm, crops to harvest, animals to feed. Making pasteurized cheese from only the freshest of milk. A humble existence, not one meant for the explorative type of people. Much too docile, too vulnerable.

“No, Hira. They are just boys. If we were hunting wild boars, yes, I would bring both Keith and Lance along, but this mission is too dangerous for the inexperienced,” Shiro argued, voice muffled behind the bales of hay, “I’m not putting their blood on my hands. Are you willing to?”

A pregnant pause, only to be interrupted by the peppered clucks of chickens nearby.

“Altea needs soldiers, Shiro.”

“Children are not soldiers, Hira. I’m done discussing this. Are you with us or not?”

“Fine. But keep your Galra scum on a leash. This war still isn’t over and I won’t forget what happened a decade ago,” she spat with spite lacing each syllable in her words, “His kind shouldn’t even be joining this party.”

“No one would forget, but his skills are invaluable if we’re going after a dragon that uses quintessence as an energy source. Our mission is to kill it so a repeat of the past doesn’t happen. Do you understand?”

Part of you wanted to say you didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Really, you didn’t, it was just convenient that your hearing was much more enhanced than the average being. And, judging by the pupiless stare of Ulaz, you knew he heard them, too. That slightest, almost barely noticeable twitch in his ears gave him away. 

“That bull is going to charge them. Watch,” Rolo informed, also watching the spectacle of Keith and Lance’s shenanigans.

As if able to predict the future, Keith must’ve patted the animal a little too hard, which irritated the beast. He started hoofing the grass, gave one loud baying screech, before shoving both of them away in a disgruntled thrash. Don’t run, you thought, but it was instinct to flee when something once neutral becomes aggressive. Pity that Keith fellow was wearing red, though. 

“Useful trick ye got there. Ever thought about trying yer hand as a fortune teller? Could swindle a few fish for quite a bit o’ gold,” you chuckled, recalling the time you did such a thing yourself. 

“Huh. Wonder if Nyma would be up for that gimmick after this hunt.”

“This hunt...it is such a small group. Can we really fight a dragon?” Shay’s inquisitive voice openly asked, “I have heard rumors and stories of such feats only being accomplished by massive armies, yet we are of only 10 bodies.”

“We are not going to kill a dragon. Shiro needs us to find it first before requesting for support from Altea. Perhaps the kingdom’s allies can send reinforcements as well.” Ulaz spoke of Shiro as an old friend, an old comrade in arms, and oddly enough, that fact was reassuring, “We can not trek through enemy territory with siege weapons and cannons. Not yet.”

Not until we know what we are going against. 

“Can you build, pirate?”

“Can a shark bite?” you immediately retorted, but judging by the blank look on his face, he didn’t understand the reference, “Aye, aye, I can build. Bless me with a keg o’ gunpowder and I’ll gift ye bombs strong enough to take out me other leg.” 

Shay giggled, Rolo smiled, and even Ulaz found the dark joke a little humorous. 

-

There was something stifling about traveling by foot through the thicket of the woods. You would take the open sea and the ship over mangled trees and looming leaves any day. Rolo, however, was in his element. It seemed like the vines were reaching towards him to give an odd embrace from the trees themselves. Was it just you or did that trunk have a face carved out in it? Perhaps you’ve been spending too much time reading that book of yours. 

[Not every spirit is malicious. Some belong to those children who ventured too far, unguarded and blind to the dangers lurking deep within. Be careful if you hear echoed giggling of the young. Faes are master tricksters. Under no circumstance should you ever answer their question, lest you wish to be swept up and vanished into thin air. Avoid rings of mushrooms at all cost.]

Below was a quickly drawn image of cap mushrooms formed in a circle. There seemed to be a child-like figure with butterfly wings attached on its back. You came to realize then, while sitting around the campfire and partaking your turn for watch, that the creatures of the land vastly differ than those of the sea. You expected this, of course, but something in the back of your head had one question buzzing in your skull: how far could you flee if you came across such beasts?

Shuffling off to the side alerted you of Shay awakening. Slowly, she emerged from her tent as the fire danced, making those gems glimmer even more beautifully in the night. 

“Are you well, p-pirate?” she asked albeit hesitantly stuttering on the title.

With a nod of confirmation, you shut your book quietly just as she took a seat across from you. She seemed to be lost in thought, curious even, and it amused you greatly to see her glance away when you caught her stare. Then, her gaze stayed locked on the very interesting rock by your wooden leg. 

“Lass, does this ol’ thing give you the willies?” you tapped your leg, already quite used to not feeling anything come from the action, “It t’aint rigged with explosives, ye can trust me word on that.”

Now, she quickly snapped her wide eyes up at you, “No, no, not at all! I mean, it’s a little...I have seen such things before. But that is not why I was - forgive me - for staring.”

“Eh?”

“Your name. The captain calls you ‘pirate’ and you were introduced to us as so. I have never met someone who doesn’t have a name,” Shay rubbed her hands together unsurely, wondering if her question came out too personal, “ I - does it bother...do you have a name that you wish to be called instead?”

Cute and utterly kind by a default. You liked that about her.

“Would ye like to hear a story, mate? A story of the Name-Stealing witch of the sea?”

At that, her attention was completely enraptured by the flourish wave of your hand and the quill you pulled from your coat sleeve like magic. If there was one thing you enjoyed more than crafting bombs, it would be telling stories embellished in exciting lore and haunting truths. Or lies. That was left to be decided by the listeners. 

“Aye, among those who were unfortunately marooned on desolate islands, legends say that the nights following an empty sky, there be but a single bottle floating to the shore. No matter where, it always held a single piece of parchment and quill. You nay see her on the bank, or hear her whisper, but some say she stands afloat as a speck on the horizon. And some say...she will grant ye solace if ye but write yer name on that there paper.”

You now pulled out a rolled-up sheet from your other sleeve, earning a gasp of surprise from your audience. Well, your one audience.

“I came across her one fateful night. There’s a rule among us pirate folk: those who fall behind are left behind. Ye carry yer own weight to survive out there and me weight was just a little too heavy,” cue you knocking on your wooden leg, “I was starved and alone with nothing but me ‘n me pistol. Good ol’ trusty Kretch. Once the taste of sand could no longer sustain me, nor the grass, nor the leaves of the palms, I had to decide if I wanted a quick death to be my end.”

Concern. Of course she was concerned to hear those dreadfully haunting words. 

“But she came to me one night, offering me nothing but a bottle. I told meself, if there were a chance to live, I’d take it without thought. And I did. I wrote me name, but oh, what a fool I was. There I lay, death washing upon the shore, and she came to me. She took it with a kiss, so I may never speak it again. She took that parchment so I may never write it again. And when I woke on a different bank, and when those kind souls helped poor little ol’ me, and when they asked who I was…”

You crumpled the paper then immediately tossed it into the fire, the blaze quickly sparking a green flame in a show of bedazzlement.

“...I couldn’t remember it.”

At the end, Shay was practically sitting on the edge of her log with wide-eyed awe. Couldn’t remember your own name? The very idea seemed appalling and completely impossible. Not even magic can do that...right? 

“But why? What could a sea witch want with a name? Was she born without one and chose to steal names, collect them, to satisfy her own cruel jealousy? Or was she searching for hers? She may still be out there yet, Shay, ready to make a deal with those desperate enough to survive. Perhaps she even haunts those in the forests or the caves…”

“No! I want to keep my name, I - “ she shook her head to get the jitters out, clearly displeased with the thought of losing something so important, “Can you get it back? Your name?”

“Many have tried, but all have failed or perished in the pursuit,” you paused, letting a slow, sneaky grin spread on your lips, “Unless...ye have more than one name to go by.”

“More than one?”

“Aye. That’s why ‘tis important to make a name fer yerself. And that’s why Shiro calls me pirate, fer me own safety, eh? Not even she can steal a title like that.”

“Can...stealing a name kill someone? Do you think she can kill a dragon if she took its name?” Shay questioned more for herself than for you, “It’s scary to think about…”

“Ah, but then ask yerself, do ye want t’forget the dragon? Pain is the world’s cruelest teacher, but I cannot imagine waking one day and not remembering how me family died by the dragon’s fire,” you explained before tilting your head in thought, “Were ye there, lass? When the dragon attacked?”

She shook her head no, “I wasn’t, but my people helped with saving the injured who were buried under the wreckage. Many were worried about the royal families and of the prince and princess as well.” 

Now it was your turn to lean in, intent on catching every word she shared.

“It is tragic that Queen Mellanor passed at Allura’s birth. Even more that her father was killed by the ally he trusted. We weren’t able to find Prince Lotor nor Emperor Zarkon, assuming they had fled as soon as the attack had started. It was horrible, hearing the survivors share their woes. I wish it hadn’t happened. Even a few Galra citizens living in Altea were affected, but…”

Here, she began fidgeting with her hands nervously then lowered her voice down a pitch as if the forest have ears of their own.

“When we uncovered Galra citizens, they were herded off into the castle...and they never came out.”

Somehow, Shay’s story was much more frightening than yours. Not only because you believe her, but you also believe that the fate of those Galra was likely leading to an unhappy ending. 

“I think - “

A rustle, one against the wind, and your head snapped in the direction of the noise. 

“Shh - wait, I hear - “ and before you could finish your sentence, a blunt force punched you in the face, sending you flying off your seat to knock into an allies tent. 

You heard Shay let out a yell, a battle cry and a way to warn everyone that an intruder was here. A cacophony of noises rose in volume, people scrambling to attack a wisping shadow in failure, for the punches came too quick and too powerful. A whirlwind of purple light trailed by each landed blow and, tried as you might, every shot from your pistol did nothing against the flurry of that damn bludgeoning weapon. 

“Rise!” Ulaz shouted and, instantly, a cooling spell fell over you, releasing you from the bruising pain of your crushed rib. 

You owe him a drink for that one. 

“Form up on me! Shields up!” Shiro ordered, equipping his own shield to cover his front, but it was already too late. 

By the time the chaos settled and the dust came down, the attacker had Hira’s throat in a deadly grasp while holding her body up in the air. Metal claws were cutting into her skin, drawing a line of blood, just to emphasize how serious she is close to dying. One wrong move, and her life would be forfeit. You waited with held breath on a command, anything from Shiro, but nothing came in one, two, three seconds.

Then, Shiro’s eyes widened at the person standing across from his infantry.

“Sendak?”

#spacestories #lotor x reader #i know i know #we hate hira

[drea-rev]

Bayonetta Week 7/12 Prompt: Freedom

“So what’s next for you?”

Jeanne looked up from the shot glass she’d been trying to follow the upside-down reflections of people in and blinked.

Rodin was serious.

He’d just listen to her morosely explain how the sealing gem had protected her during the explosion, and how it had helped her break free of Balder’s mind control, and how the memories of being made to torture her friend were already beginning to haunt her.

“Next? There...isn’t a next. For God’s sake. You expect me to think about the future? Now?”

The dim red light, the smoke from Enzo’s cigar, and the jazz piano teasing away her worries along with the alcohol was Jeanne’s future, as far as she was interested in believing.

It would have been easier if she’d actually died. Better yet, died protecting her friend, making up for what she’d done, even if Jeanne didn’t think that was possible. But Bayonetta had insisted on them going back to Earth together. And then somehow Jeanne had ended up telling all of this to Rodin.

Jeanne didn’t know how long she’d been at the Dump. Rodin’s stocks of Grey Goose and Blue Curaçao were constantly dropping and then being refilled, who knows from where, and the rise and fall of various human and inhuman-sounding voices laughing and conversing as if the world hadn’t just ended wrapped Jeanne in their repetition. And this being the seediest of all dives, she was hoping it would go on, because there was nothing like being kicked out of a bar.

And it was too early anyway. Jeanne looked at the line of glasses to her left. She raised a finger to try to count them.

“One...two...five...seven...”

Rodin shook his head at her. “Don’t make me ban you again.”

Jeanne squinted, her vision blurring around the tenth glass. All she heard was clicking, over the din of the bar. “When...did you ban me?”

“You don’t remember the hundred year ban? Also known as the Hundred Years’ War? You got a lot done, not drinking.”

“Why did you ban me?” Jeanne’s words were becoming slurred, and the bad thing was, she was aware of it. This meant she wasn’t drunk enough yet. She reached for her next shot.

“Because you do whatever you want, woman. You’re worse than Bayonetta. You forgot that? You really forgot when you got so plastered you summoned Madama Styx up in here? Do you remember the blood? Do you remember the demons howling for blood?”

The clicking and clacking noise was so loud, Jeanne was about to turn around and shout at someone about not playing pool so damned loudly, but then it stopped sharply.

Rodin said, “Take her home. I don’t want any trouble.”

Two hands wrapped around Jeanne’s stomach and before she could react, she was being lifted up, and got an upside down close-up of a smiling face she knew very well. Gray eyes she knew very well.

“Cereza...”

“G’wan, get out,” Rodin said. And Jeanne started squirming in her friend’s grasp then, grabbed for her glass, but it was snatched away.

“I’ll have your credit card charged,” Rodin laughed, and his laugh had that dark, peculiar echo she recognized from the old times. Before Rodin mellowed out to just being an arms dealer.

But then the clacking, clicking of Bayonetta’s heals was all Jeanne could hear, over all the noise of the room, the clinking glasses and ivory keys and gossip. Smells of several kinds of Havana Perfecto, Enzo’s voice somewhere sharing choice info. Jeanne grabbed Bayonetta’s shoulder and tried to push off.

She wasn’t being fireman carry’d out of here after just...twelve, thirteen, twenty-two--however many shots!

And why wasn’t Bayonetta saying anything? Why wasn’t she her confident, talkative, wiseassed self? Why wasn’t she making fun of Jeanne’s current state? And where had she come from?

“Let me go!” Jeanne said, her voice breaking while she said it. She inhaled sharply, blushing, because clearly the alcohol had done nothing to deaden her complicated feelings.

And she wasn’t going to be crying at the bar. Not this bar. She drank to avoid crying, not to facilitate it, damn it!

“Shh. I already called us a taxi,” came a whisper from underneath her.

And then they were suddenly on the street, and a yellow car was gliding toward them. Bayonetta handled her into the car as if she was a child, and Jeanne kicked at the wall separating her from the driver in retaliation. The man swore.

“Sorry, dear,” Bayonetta said sweetly. “She’s drunk.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” he muttered.

Jeanne curled up in a ball. The curt slam of the door, and then the gradual pull as the car began motion, and then

And then Bayonetta’s arm curled around her shoulder.

Jeanne’s skin was hot where she touched, but she made what would have been a shrug if she wasn’t drunk, to remove herself. Unfortunately--and yet fortunately--the movement was something else now, a bobbing motion that pigeons did on the street, and sort of made her ticklish and she started giggling.

And that did it. A tear crawled down her cheek.

And she took a gasping breath.

Bayonetta was giggling, but she was pulling Jeanne closer all the while, completely unaffected by what bothered Jeanne so much. Actually, Bayonetta was happy.

Really happy.

Happier than Jeanne had remembered ever seeing her, back in the day. Bayonetta brushed away her tear while beaming.

“You,” she murmured into Jeanne’s ear, as Jeanne looked back out the window, at the neon zigzags that reflected off other cars, at the gemstones of orange embedded here and there on tall buildings.

Jeanne took a deep breath, and then relaxed against Bayonetta’s shoulder.

“You aren’t blaming yourself for what my father did, are you?” her friend said after a while.

Jeanne felt Cereza’s fingers tickling under her chin. She raised her head and buried it in the crook of Bayonetta’s neck.

Bayonetta crossed her arms over her back, hugging her tightly. The way you needed to hug a drunk person. Because a regular hug was weak when you were numb.

“You’re free now. It’s over. That’s all that matters,” Bayonetta said. With that silky voice. With that joy in it.

“Why are you...so happy?” Jeanne murmured, her voice muffled.

“Because I have you,” Bayonetta’s hand swept down Jeanne’s back. An amazing caress. Ten out of ten.

“I finally, finally have you.”

#Bayonettaweek #Bayonetta Week #Jeanne #bayonetta #Prompt: Freedom #tw #alcohol #death #depression #suicide mention

[pulitzerpanther]

╳

@sanguinehope​ doesn’t think they’ve been through enough || “You Slay Me”

Oh, it’s not good.

Cat doesn’t need a prognosis or a doctor to tell her that, eyes unfocused as she slumps against awall she’d built, once, with determination and talent, alone. Unfortunately, a sea of glass doesn’t do much for hiding blood and a trembling curse leaves lips, body moving slower and slower by the second. It was hard enough trying to hide on the trip up.

The world is shaking around them—literally—the sound of yetanother apocalypse bringing the world to its feet, Supergirl an indomitable pinnacle of greatness, unshakable andstrong that cannot bow. The sister and the Legends arealready clamoring up the stairs to the highest peak to stop some form oftemporal distortion—some black hole fromanother universe that’s apparently disrupted their own—and their part of this little mission is important and clear. So important and clear that, halfway down thestreet half an hour prior, Cat finally had a chance to put those acting classes she’d taken withDiane Keaton to use when a piece of shrapnelof all things embedded in her side.

She’d known, then—she’d known—butit’s a little heavier when she’s so aptly faced with it, hands clawing at adesk that isn’t hers, anymore, to tryto put in a combination, eventually smacking it open to pull out a smallcrystal of gold that apparently wasn’t supposed to exist. But does.

Now, anyways. Timelines apparently were more fragile than anyone cared to think about.

(Cat, for once, hadn’t troubled herself with particulars when the Legends showed upat their doorstep a few hours ago; they’d simply once more tasked themselveswith fixing the world)

They don’t have time (literally) for Kara to notice, but the girl does. Kara notices. Kara always notices.Cat stumbles in her box of glass and the moment an alien is knocked out with aswift punch Kara is there before she has time to shakily expel a breath, skin pale as weak fingers aim to push anindomitable force aside, struggling to get to the balcony so that Kara can leave with the damn thing. 

Can save theworld.

But knees give out the moment they make it outside, the painoverwhelming and suddenly, without amission—without a purpose—Cat’s body sees fit to crumple like wet paperunderneath trembling knees, strong arms wrapping around a pitching waist before knees can give out completely. And she hears it—she does—she hears the panic. The alarm.

That hurts worse than the wound does.

Kara’s lost so much, already. Cat hadn’t planned on adding to the list.

Fingers curl desperately in the fabric of a suit—and the redfrom her fingers blends with the red of a smooth cape and, oh, Cat feels a hintof remorse because it’s so difficult toget blood out, if peroxide isn’t applied immediately, and it’s not like Kara cantake her Supergirl Cape to the cleaners; Maybe Cat can give her hercleaner’s name, or she could take her—

Take her next weekend.

Carter and Adam could—

Next weekend—

Dancing, strongfingers brushing through hair as a lawyer’s hands brush along cheeks, tuckingup a chin, grass green and bright–

An owlish blink, mind unfocused as the pain sears, trying to gather herself—her surroundings—whendid she wind up on the ground of a balcony, the sea of stars highlighting Kara’shair in a halo of gold-dust? When did Kara slump so desperately in front ofher, looking like the weight of the world has finally taken its toll andsnapped a spine in two? When did fingers cup cheeks—did they guide Cat upwardsto meet a tearful, desperate gaze. 

Kara–oh, Kara, I’m sorry she might say if her mouth wasn’t so full of cotton.

Another blink.

Focus. Focus.

Cat doesn’t want to die.

There’s no peace in this, this restless anxiousness—in thisfear crawling up her throat and settling in a warm pain through her chest, underneath the scar from a bullet and nextto an arm that had been broken; next to a heart that’s so rebellious, even nowand a body that fights. Fights untilits last drop. The world didn’t riditself of Cat Grant so easily—and suddenly she’s petrified.

But she doesn’t want Kara to know that. Oh, no, she wants…shewants Kara to sleep, tonight—

Who will brush fingersalong the high rise of a shoulder; dip a nose along the curving line of a back whenshe tenses; settle a palm against a quick-beating heart like a promise—

“I’ll…be okay.” Cat lies to Kara for the first time and doesa pretty damn good job about it, fingers slackening in the curving rose petals of cape like she’s tracing fingers along the red rims of a funeral pyre. She won’t goout in fear. She won’t run away from this—she’ll face it head on, fearquivering her knees and love settlingin her gut. “L-look—look at me, shh—" Cat struggles to move sluggish arms upwards to cup cheeks, green glassy and dulling, lips parted, and it’shard—it’s so hard—to get the words out, “You…will fight. You will fight, Kara.Always…always.” A quivering breath, “You will leave here…and fight. I don’t—I don’twant to see you, wherever I’m going for…for a long time. There is nothing Iwant more than for you to—to live and—and oh, I’m…I’m running out of–Oh God—”

Eyes close and she can’t feelit, anymore, the wetness on her cheeks. The warmth of Kara’s breath. Thecool air whipping through their hair. The fires above and below them. She canbarely hear the sirens or the screams or the roaring. All she can feel is the pain and the way her own throattrembles like the roar of earth opening up between mountains, but when her eyes open, they��re resolute and resigned, both, a carefully-craftedpoem of contradictions until the end.

“You heard…Lara Croft,” Somehow, Cat had enough sense tohold onto the small little gold trinket with the last hints of her life. “Ifyou…fix the timeline, all of this will…will cease to be. We’ll…all meet a…particularlydaunting fate. One way or another.” A hint of a broken laugh, dry humorsettling at the gallows, “It’s philo…sophical, really. What will happen to us…whenwe cease to be. Mine is…mine is just…a little less fortunate of an ending. Youcan’t let them wi—ah-ah, no. No, this is my…my…don’t interrupt a girl who’s–” The hand along Kara’scheek trembles and, oh, she can still feel Karafor the moment, underneath caked lines of red. “You can’t…let them win. Oh…Oh, Kara.” It quivers and shakes—rattles likea thin window facing a merciless onslaught of wind, structure weak and hinges quivering at the edges; glass ribcage frail and thin—and when herfingers paint red along the line of a jaw, Cat knows. She can feel it.

(Cat’s painted her like some form of macabre finger-painting and that’s likely why she should have left the canvases to the girl in front of her.)

No. No more lies. Kara deserves a chance to say goodbye.

“So…so it seems I’ve…I’ve come to my last stand, Kara.” The handwith the gem falls, fingers still tight around it, “I’ve roused you from…fromdeath so many times I’m…I’m starting to realize I’m—I’m a fraud. A…hypocrite,”There’s a hint of a laugh, dusty—pained, “What a…a horrible thing to be. For ajournalist. At least I’m not…going out a Republican.” Quieter, searching seas like Odysseus setting upon the rocking tides, “I’ve told you to fight somany…so many times,” Fingers dip to curve around the wrist that raises—that triesto shush her–groaning as a body shifts against rough cement, body slumpinguselessly against the wall. “Never let you rest, but this…oh, this is it. Thisis it.” Another rallying breath and it’s so dulled,realizing arms are around her fully, now. “This is it….”

Her voice is practically a gasp, now, trailing off at the edges, andwhen Kara whispers along the edges of an ear, it sounds like the ocean, bracing familiarity and sun-heatedwarmth against the rough edges of a beach. She can’t understand a word of it,but it sounds so lovely—

Singing. A dance of words trilling along the wind—the sightof blue catching balls of sunlight in glints like a sunrise along that ocean.Beautiful—endless—a horizon that Cat can’t trace with quivering fingertips ofaching promises resting against her chest like a weight.

“For me. You’ll…fight. You’ll win. I belie…” A swallow, full ofcopper and blood and the pain makes a body curl in on itself without a mind’sinput. “…eve in…in you. Kara.” The pain dulls along with the panic when she realizesthe noise she’s hearing is…

The wind.

The mountains.

A smile, proud and strong and familiar—she’s spent so manyyears tracing his face with restless fingertips that when she curls into Kara,she thinks she might feel him, now–

Kara. Kara would like to paint it, Cat thinks. 

Blinks again.

“I’m….” A hint of a sad, frightened smile that buries itself in love like a casket in the ground, the knowledge settling that she won’t be alone for long, not if Kara wins. Not if Kara loses.

But she’ll win. She always does.

“Oh, it’s not…it’s not…so scary, after all,” A hint of adesperate laugh, slumping a little further, continuing a quiet conversation instaccato beats of her stuttering heart, watching the way the world burns starlighton her lover’s cheeks in glistening paths of gray. “I do.” Eyelashes flutter,the fear fading to…something else. Something quiet—calm—the feeling of largefingers brushing through her hair and Kara’s hands pressing against the wound. “Inever…I never expected it. You. I never knew…what it was like. To really…toreally love—I…do. I…I lo—”

Young fingers curlalong the edges of a railing, wood smooth underneath a clapping palm as a largehand curves along a shoulder, the snow-capped mountains never melting, the yurtnever settling as the wind dances songs along their shoulders.

You never could just rest, could you, Kit.

Oh, Daddy, I’ll sleep when I’m dead.

You? Die? Way toostubborn for it.

Hey–

The hand slumps fully inbetween them, palm up as her griploosens along a small pearl of gold, a sea of red between them, a forest ofdulling green and browns fading into a shadow.

Send ╳ for my muse dying in your muse’s arms.

#penuymbra #questions #{ тρ : α υηιqυє ƒℓσωєя αмσηg мιℓℓισηѕ αη∂ мιℓℓισηѕ σƒ ѕтαяѕ } #{ ᵛ : ᴵ ᵈᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ } #//this is so long but i couldn't even read it through bc like feels so #//you get what you get #q proof pile #tw: character death #tw: blood #tw: death #tw: not ok #tw: long post

[insecwrites]

the Story of Steven Sableye Stone

                                               > READ ON AO3 <                                             Fandom: Pokemon. Rating: Gen fic, T+ rated. Summary: During an Excavation in an unscouted cave, Steven unearths a gemstone unlike any he has ever seen before. But before he can bring it back to study, the cave he is in collapses.

When he wakes up, he is no longer in the same cave - or even in the same body for that matter!   Chapter one;

There was truly nothing more special than this, Steven thought to himself. Kneeling in the dust from his work, a mining light on his forehead, his face-mask hanging unsued around his neck, searching through his backpack for a snack - he was at his happiest.

Cradily was the only pokemon out of its pokeball today, quietly standing a bit behind him. As much as Steven loved his pokemon, he enjoyed the silence and solitude that came with his work, and Cradily shared his interests in fossil. Armaldo, Aggron and Skarmory much more enjoyed digging and testing their strength or speed.

Steven unwrapped his berry-bar and took a bite, the starchy taste of oran berry filling his mouth. It wasn’t a flavour he really cared for that much, but the bars were filling, and at this point he’d begun to associate them with his treks through the Hoenn mountainrange.

It had been a while since he’d last gone on one of his expeditions. Having become Champion of the League had really eaten away at his free time, and Steven had found himself in offices and meetings far too often for his liking. He could no longer pack up his rucksack and go out to look for a cave – he didn’t have the time.

Steven had been on his way to Granite cave when his father had called him with news. Someone had stumbled upon an undiscovered cave! Naturally, Steven <em> had </em> to go there right away, and here he was.

 The cave had turned out even better than Steven had hoped. After clearing out a few obstructions with Metagross’ help, it had been easy to navigate the tunnels. The Pokemon in the cave were mostly Onix and Steelix, the layout was straightforward, and there were a lot of spots fit for digging!

It would take a while to properly catalogue everything and protect the more intact specimens, but once that work was done, this cave could become a wonderful attraction. It wasn’t quite as other-worldly as the Meteor Falls, but it could become a great place for travellers to meet and battle.

 A soft touch jolted Steven out of his thoughts, and he looked at his Cradily. One of its petals had reached out to touch his cheek.

“What-...? Oh, you must be hungry-” Steven said, and he held out his berry-bar towards the pokemon. “Here you go, have a bite.”

 Cradily shook and nudged the bar away, pointing vaguely at Steven’s wrist. Ah, he should have known, it was already rather late. Cradily had a biological clock that could put watchmakers to shame. Steven stroked a few of its thick petals as he answered. “Yes, I know it is late, but I think I’m going to stay.”

 The Cradily made a rather offended sound.

 “If this is about my meeting with the Elite Four – I will cancel it. They should be used to it by now. I’m staying. It’s been too long time since we were in a new cave together, and I really don’t feel like getting any of you hurt during ‘training’.” Steven said. “Drake never bothered to teach that Salamence to watch out with its power.”

 Cradily bristled, shaking its leaves in denial, and Steven let out a half-amused huff. “Oh I see – this is about your tv-show isn’t it?

 Cradily rustled, a little softer, and Steven laughed as he rubbed his hands over the thick oily petals of his pokemon. “Don't worry, I made sure to tape it, just in case. And I taped Metagross's and Aggron's too.”

 Cradily rustled again, almost relieved, and Steven’s previous transgressions were forgiven as the large pokemon folded himself against Steven's back and over his shoulder. Steven patted the large pokemon absentmindedly, and finished the last few bites of his berry-bar.

“I’ll prepare some real food for us later, after I’m done with this.” He said to Cradily, and he scratched his fingers between the roots of Cradily’s thick leaves.

 The patch he was working on was somewhat of an oddity. It was a discoloured piece of sandstone, right between two earth-plates. The two kinds of stone were not created under the same circumstances and really shouldn’t be found together like this unless it was the work of a Pokemon.

Torkoal and Macargo liked to make their nests out of molten stone, and a lot of Pokemon used Earthquake to shift the crust of the earth but Steven hadn’t seen any of those pokemon since leaving Mt. Chimney.

 In short, this digging site was too interesting to leave unattended.

 Steven put his breathing mask back over his nose and mouth, and grabbed his tools. Slowly but surely he worked at the stone with his chisels, watching the stone slough off in thicker and thicker slabs. Some of the shards almost resembled modern types of wall-plaster, and Steven collected several samples in plastic bags to study back at home.

The stuff looked mundane, and was probably boring to anyone but fellow Geologists, but Steven had never heard of its kind before. The results would be interesting, if only for how it had been created and in which layer of the earth.

 Steven’s chisel hit a bad spot, and Steven startled backwards as the rest of the stone crumbled. A thick wave of fine dust blew in his face, and Steven shielded his eyes from the assault.

 “Ack!” He coughed. He hadn’t had his mask on exactly right, and a good whiff of dust had made it past. “Pleh- cough-cough! T-that never becomes any less surprising!”  

Steven wiped the dust from around his eyes as quickly and carefully as he could. His Cradily was making excited little sounds, and Steven knew that they had hit something interesting.

 A perfectly round gem sat embedded in the brittle stone, banded with swirls of yellow, red and purple. Steven let his fingers graze the surface, and jerked away when warmth touched his fingertips. His Cradily tried to look over his shoulder, and one of its massive flower-petals obstructed Steven's view.

 “Cradily, I can’t see-!”

 He pushed away Cradily's leaf, and scrutinised the stone. It looked almost impossibly whole and round, and it was polished to a shine as if an artist had created it. To an untrained eye, it would look like a marble, but Steven knew better. This was not glass.

“Cradily, step back for a bit please. This calls for precision.” Steven said, and he took out his smallest tools, carefully scraping at the sandstone to get the mysterious stone out of the wall.

 Almost too good to be true, the rock around it crumbled away easily. Within minutes, Steven held the impossibly perfect orb in his hand. It was still warm and almost clammy or oily, like it had been held on someone's hands.

Steven stood up, and held it up higher, angling his flashlight to shine more directly at the stone. “Cradily- have you ever seen something like this?”

 Cradily rustled. Negative.

 Steven angled the stone back and forth, studying the patterns inside. It looked beautiful, but Steven had no clue how it could have been shaped like this. The pattern itself was already impossible to have been created naturally, and the round perfect shape could not be a coincidence.

 “…Unless there’s more of them.” Steven finished. He looked back at the sandstone wall and the few traces of grey stone still left, and he knew that he would be skipping dinner tonight. Maybe even sleeping. It was a good thing he’d taken pre-made food and a sleeping bag with him.

 He carefully put the stone in his pocket, and zipped up the zipper.

 Now, Steven was adept at reading the sounds and sights in a cave. He had spent most of his childhood in the caves near his home, and most of his teenage years being dug out of collapsed tunnels of his own make. It was very common to hear disputes between big rock and ground pokemon. It was run of the mill to see churned earth and thrown boulders and cracked plates wherever there were big Pokemon. At the same time, any tunnel that showed signs of having been there for more than three years was a tunnel strong enough to explore.

 So when the sounds of grinding earth and stone began echoing down the tunnel, Steven was not worried. When a light layer of dust began raining down, he wasn’t worried. Cradily was silent. When a Stalactite crashed onto the cave floor only a few meters from where he was sitting, Steven jerked free from his focus on the stone.  

 For a moment he sat frozen, trying to judge if he should run or not. The far-off roar from a furious Steelix seemed to vibrate the very earth, and most worryingly – it didn’t stop after the roar stopped. The trembles in the stone got worse, and the telling cracks of stone sounding from further down the tunnel were what finally jumpstarted him into action.

 He practically pounced on his backpack, and fumbled to get his pokemon out of their balls.

 Cradily was staring up at the ceiling, leaves trembling and eyes as wide as they could go. There were more than a few cracks forming in the stone, snapping and groaning as they went, and dust rained down on top of them. Steven’s throat was already feeling as dry as a desert when he called out his pokemon. He didn’t want to know what happened to a pokemon if they ball was crushed while they were still in it.

“The tunnels are collapsing!” He yelled as soon as they were out of their pokeball. “Run! Follow me!” It was fortunate that he favoured ground and steel types, or the boulders that dropped from the ceiling might have crushed them

 They ran as fast as they could through the tunnels, accompanied by frantic geodudes and zubats. Steven’s eyes burned when the dust became too much to blink away, and he tried to block the dust from his lungs with one of his sleeves. His pokemon could have gone faster than him at this point, but they didn’t know the way out. Armaldo and Aggron were pushing and pawing at the ceiling of the tunnel, trying to hold it open by acting as support, and Cradily shielded Steven from falling rocks.

The tunnels were collapsing in on themselves, and Steven watched in a detached horror as the ceiling of the cave gave in and collapsed.

 It was Metagross that saved him from being squished under the stone, by throwing itself over Steven and taking the weight of the mountains on its back. Steven tasted the floor of the cave as sand and rocks slid over Metagross’ back and in between its legs.

More and more crumbled down, and slowly Steven and Metagross were buried underneath the rubble. Steven could hear the loud cracks of rocks hitting rocks becoming more muted, until they were nothing more than distant thumps – like he was hearing them through a wall.

 Finally, after what seemed like ages of rumbling and sharp dry breaths, the collapse came to a stop. Metagross didn’t move an inch, and Steven just breathed. Was he hurt? He couldn’t feel anything but soreness. He spat out the taste of mud. “Metagross- can you see the others?”

 His pokemon replied with a strained grunt. Without seeing its body language, the answer could be interpreted as anything. Steven took it as ‘I don’t know.’

“Of course not- we’re buried...” He said quietly. His pokemon were all rock, steel or ground types, but he didn’t know if they were built for a collapse like this. Technically speaking, pokemon like Skarmory didn’t live underground, and Cradily had been classified as bottom dwelling sea pokemon.

 Metagross let out a worried, strained sound, and Steven placed his hand on the pokemon’s closest leg. “The others- I don’t…. I don’t know how they’ll hold up in a collapse like this. Can you move?”

 Metagross rumbled uncertainly, and Steven could feel the pokemon’s body begin to tremble with strain. One of Metagross’ feet lifted off the ground -  and Metagross lost his balance. Steven had a heart-stopping moment where he thought that his pokemon would fall on him, but Metagross did not fall. It wobbled and grunted, and bled a small stream of silvery liquid, but it did not fall.  

The answer to his question was very clear. No, Metagross could not move.

 “Okay. You can’t move.” Steven breathed. “That’s okay- we’ll find a way out of this.”

 The space underneath Metagross was small, and Steven wiped the dust off his mining-light. He had to dig away some dirt to even reach his pocket, but in a small mercy his Pokenav was still intact. He flipped the thing open, and squinted at the harsh light from the screen. His father was on the first dial, and he tapped his name. He knew very well that reception in the caves was bad, but he had to try.

The Nav dialled one time, before it showed its error message.

 ‘Cannot connect to Hoenn network. Please try again later.’

 “No, come on...” Steven mumbled. He tried again, and again – and again- ... “I don’t have a signal.” He said. “….I’m not getting any signal at all.” Metagross let out a high, whimpering sound. Steven knew that sound intimately. Metagross had made those same sounds when he was still a Beldum – when he’d been scared, and hiding in Steven’s jacket.

Steven shifted a few uncomfortable rocks out from under his stomach and legs, and rolled onto his back. He rested a hand on the cool steel of Metagross’ belly, where he knew that Metagross’ could feel it. “Don’t worry.” Steven said. “We’ll be alright. I will start digging a way out, and we’ll be able to tunnel to the outside.”

 Metagross rumbled a little, and its high whimper faded away.

 “That’s my pal.” Steven said, and he turned back onto his stomach again. “All you need to do, is try to hold out as long as you can. We’ll find a part of the tunnel that hasn’t collapsed, and if we fail at that, we might get into range of the Hoenn Pokenav network.”

 Metagross rumbled, and Steven began digging.

 The first few rocks were easily dislodged, but it didn’t take long before his progress slowed down. For every rock he pulled away, another load of sand and grime would flow in place. For every scoop of sand he dug through, he’d find a boulder too large to move on his own.

He was running out of places to dig, and Steven didn’t want to think about what that meant.  

 It was getting harder and harder to breathe. Steven’s throat was as dry as paper, and he panted through his mouth as he worked. Metagross had started to tremble from strain, and was making its whimpering little noises again.

It wasn’t too long before Steven started to feel like there was no more air to breathe. His digging slowed down, and became clumsy. He grabbed the wrong rock and his efforts collapsed, blowing dust into their little hiding hole. Steven coughed, and gasped for air, grasping at Metagross’ body.

 “Metag-” Steven tried to speak, begging for the comfort and protection that his pokemon offered, but it came out like a gritty whisper. He had to cough again, because his lungs were itching and burning like he’d inhaled paralysing spores, but there was almost no more air to inhale.

 Steven couldn’t find the breath to dig for freedom, and deliriously he began to wonder if any of his pokemon would make it out.

Metagross was strong, but they had been so deep, and did it even remember how to dig?  Aggron could make it, but Scarmory, Cradily, the others-… They needed to breathe.

 “M-ta-gross” Steven rasped, and he pressed himself closer to his pokemon. He fought for air. His hand slipped away from Metagross’ flat underbelly, and his vision began turning black. Metagross was no longer attempting to be quiet in its whimpering, but there was nothing left in Steven that could offer comfort.

 He sank away, and did not wake up again.

#pokemon #pokemon omega ruby #pokemon omega and alpha #pokemon emerald #steven stone #fanfiction #insecwrites

[denouae]

finifugal: verse o.

cigarette ash like wildfire, burning holes in the nighttime. verse zero, as endorsed by the historical portraits, hung askew.

                     i.

in this fugue crafted out of the atrophy in a man’s empire, he’s the core of its rotten dusk, collared by the weight of expectations. his globed shoulders are always worn down with the carnation driven by bloodied thoughts, he always ends up in the viscera of his clasped mind, mouth never uttering a single word in regards to the thoughts. “what would you like to be, if not monstrous, if not grotesque?” a question posed in multiplies, engraving ennui in his mind. it's not like he hasn't been growing up, growing old with the same telltale inquiry, its answer leading to this monosyllabic reverse psychology.

                     ii.

he's not a fool. one response leads to another, and another, and another. the apostles do not mouth their creeds for nothing, their intents crafted out of nothing if not men's self-destruct tendencies. if men can eat themselves alive, own flesh in own teeth, that's when the apostles have marked their craftsman finished. this is naught if not sacrifice, to rinse humans of their riches, their sanity. humans, after all, are manmade ridges of selfish architectures. they simply teach lessons through the subliminal messages; this greed, this hunger. deeming humans unable to comprehend the nature of altruism, they've taken it upon themselves to baptize these lost souls under the guise of lies.

                     iii.

half-moon bites on his skin mark the memories. on this lane at the end of the long, winding road, was a man that kept a boy close to his chest by having hands around the child's neck. the embossed fingerprints served as a reminder for the boy not to run too far, too fast, lest he'd fall. remember, where he came from, with the height of men turned more into commodities than capabilities, someone like his father was an exception. climbing the ladder with nothing but his nimble thoughts, appa claimed to have swallowed the bitter of this world's carnage firsthand. men that did not, do not alter dreamscapes fast enough on this side of the world wouldn't survive. the harsh reality was that the legacy had to carry on.

                     iv.

& looking from the telescope of a dead man's eyes, he was, is very fortunate indeed. deiformed, childhood was stained with the syllables of matured lies. his birth came first, the preliminary edge to the lineage. a son of jung, finally. to the throne, to the crown. appa, for once, swelled with secondhand pride, which proved to be nothing more than borrowed fortune when a cousin was born from the first uncle. he was three, naïve. the wafting scent of aged wine was none but a passing thought; he didn't recognize appa, plagued with anger. he took the beating in silence. it was his fault—

                     v.

it was until it wasn't. his gift was discovered early, crevasses of his talents found, unlike gems, more like sins. bullets that penetrated the nights as he took a stroll with appa, not in reality but on a plane called the dreamscape. and as it progressed... love? love is a relative measure. in retrospect, he cannot call it as such. it leaves when it fits. it leaves when it stills. leftovers of umma's presence did not last long enough to be called as such, and this? appa's grip around his hand, embedding nail marks... is this it?

                     vi.

his question marks missed the dots. he left a trail of them, one by one, on his paintings. he was better off away from the fellow kids, not because of the introversion. maybe it was so that envy did not smear the people's faces; after all, he was, is the prodigy to carry the legacy of the jung's. the spidery metastasis of his smoked imageries spread on canvases, they sell well. and after his fourteenth painting of the city of berlin — distorted, its spine so askew many wouldn't have been able to tell that it was, in fact, it... — he was recruited into the rank. appa didn't raise a fool; his baptismal as the architect for the creed did not wait. he was a son to a father, for once.

                     vii.

"when was the last time you went to therapy?" the stray inquiry echoed in a dream that wasn't his — a dream he'd snuck into so that they could maintain a structured lie throughout the night, extracting ideas, information. knowledge that was meant to be underlying secrets, they wanted to know them all. it wasn't a question directed at him, but it remained with him for an elongated timeline. he needs a permanent shrink, it seems. a child prodigy has grown into the intended monster. he needs to finish these inceptions, though. these mementos, too. all the paintings, pictures, portraits. half-sketched drawings that wilt in these ever-changing places. five-starred hotels that he'd never frequented, but they'd known him by names. uriel, the painter. or mr. jung, the dealer. the trades made, however, are never equal.

                     viii.

he chipped at the corners of these apertures with his coffee-stained teeth, listening closely to the whispers from the far-fetched memories in his leisure. he still recalled, after all this time, after all the beatings, his grandfather's calloused hand guiding his own to make sharp strokes across the canvas. he mastered painting at such a young, gullible age. his styles mimicked the old man's, carved legacy hanging high above his head like a chandelier, except for the fact this his grandfather had never loved him much — not as much as the grandfather loving the first son of the first son. no wonder appa purchased too many escapes. there was just not enough space for two fighting for the castle of patriarchy. uriel, deemed a son, now deemed a wound. hasn't he been one all this time? & if he were to be a wound, he'd be a good one.

                     ix.

there was no funeral for appa, just a reminder that being trapped in the maze of nightmares might lead to permanent death. the creed didn't shed a tear for appa, and neither did he. he saw the tangled dreams of his grandfather's, the guilt intertwined like archaic ivies. there wasn't a need for tears when it was for a son long lost, a son long gone. he himself, he found inner peace, another looming shadow gone. he wished anything in his life could be enough, but alas—

                     x.

he's smudged in colors, red for the night that cusped in smidgens. memories that fleet. he was asleep when the phone rang. he expected it to be a death of the person he used to know, but it wasn't. premonitions that don't foreshadow anything— well, he was told by the cheap tarot reader at the corner of the street that he would receive good news within the week. what else could he expect? the erasure of the looming shadows for the last thirty years could've been an exit, for once. his visit to magnolia was capricious, almost, besides for the fact of his frantic uncle's demand. the fragments of a so-called family shouldn't have bothered him this much, yet the poltergeists of the haunting past, they always return. he'll prove himself wrong: & so, he stays.

                     o.

this is to undo the spine and count every bone, fingers bleeding from the sharpened ridges. marrow crowned with intentional negligence; there is nothing that forges survival the way tragedies do. the world was handcrafted out of sins, after all — out of smelted temptation swallowed whole. a theory denied by the blinded: if god had not desired for men to tangle their feet, why were they created a step away from the trap? if god reserved eden for this creature of flesh and bones, why were their sinews the hue of lethal curiosity? think about this: the architecture of god’s construct comes in both cause and effect.

#abt. #ver: o. #tw parental death #tw parental neglect #tw night terrors #tw sacrilege #tw manipulation #tw child abuse

[jarmes]

JJBA Twisted Destiny Chapter 10 - The Stranger on the Phone

Masterpost - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Nero pushes open the door to the incinerator room. It’s deserted. Small puddles, remnants of the now melted icicles that filled the hospital, dot the floor. The arrow sits next to the incinerator.

The arrowhead is golden, with a carving of a beetle with a single red eye.

Kan stumbles into the incinerator room. She’s changed back into her normal outfit, and a bandage covers her broken nose. “Hey,” she says.

“Miss Nijimura, how are you feeling?” Nero asks.

“Confused, mostly. This guy showed up to attack Mylo. He elbowed me in the face,” Kan says. “Last time I saw Mylo, he was running to the second floor.”

Nero frowns. “He’s dead, isn’t he?” Kan asks. “You said the ice would go away if he died, and it's gone, so-”

“Mylo has passed away, unfortunately,” Nero says.

“And the man chasing him?”

“Johana defeated him.”

“Where is Johana now?”

“She’s with Mylo’s body right now. I told her that I’d grab the arrow so we could leave.”

Kan shoves past Nero and grabs the arrow by its head. “Let’s get out of here, Johana shouldn’t be alone right now,” she says.

As Kan and Nero leave the incinerator room, a drop of blood falls from Kan’s finger and falls on the wet floor.

+++

Johana leans down and closes Mylo’s eyes. She sighs. “I'm sorry I couldn’t protect you,” she says. “The man who killed you, I broke every bone in his body. He won’t hurt anyone else for a long time.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Johana spots something shiny by Mylo’s foot. She reaches down and picks up a silver bracelet with a small red gem in its center. Johana glances at Mylo’s foot. Two small holes dot his ankle.

Slowly, Johana puts the bracelet on her wrist. Two metal spikes emerge from within the bracelet, stabbing into Johana’s wrist. Johana screams and summons her Stand, who punches a wall before disappearing. Johana stumbles back and attempts to rip the bracelet off, to no avail. The spikes are lodged too deep, making it impossible to remove without damaging her wrist.

Johana hears a cellphone ringtone. She looks at the wall, at the hole in the drywall created by her Stand. An old flip-phone sits within the wall, ringing. Slowly, Johana grabs the phone and opens it.

“Miss Joestar, how nice of you to pick up,” the voice on the other line says. “May I call you Johana?”

The voice on the other line unnerves Johana. It doesn’t sound like the voice of a human. Rather, it sounds like a crowd of people all talking at once, their voices echoing and mixing together into a chaotic cacophony.

“Who is this?” Johana says.

“Someone very interested in the events of the past night, Johana,” the voice says. “Tell me, were you afraid when Mr. Burnham ripped you out the window? Or were you calm as you soared through the air, because you knew that you would be the victor?”

Johana doesn’t respond. “Rest assured, Johana, your victory was not a fluke. From the moment that battle began, there was only one possible winner,” the voice continues. “Not because you were stronger, or more intelligent, but because fate declared that you would be victorious. Just as fate decreed that Mylo Xyloto would die at the hands of Mr. Burnham, it demanded that you survive this ordeal.”

Johana clenches her fist. “I’m going to ask you again, and I expect to get an actual answer this time,” she says. “Who. Are. You?”

“Forgive my rudeness, Johana,” the voice says. “You can call me Woodstock.”

“Woodstock?” Johana repeats, flashing back to the things Mr. Burnham said before killing Mylo. “You’re the one who gave Mylo this bracelet, right?”

“Admittedly, that could have gone a bit smoother. He forced me away before I could explain the significance of that bracelet to him.”

“What do you mean, forced you away?”

“Normally, when I bestow a Stand upon someone, it takes a few hours for it to fully manifest. Mylo’s, on the other hand, materialized almost instantly. My fingers froze together as I placed the tracker bracelet on his ankle, leaving me unable to retrieve my arrow.”

“You’re the one who shot Mylo?”

“Correct.”

“Why? Why did you force him into this madness? What did he do to you?”

“I didn’t give Mylo a Stand out of some petty revenge, Johana,” Woodstock says. “I gave it to him to see if he was worthy. As it turns out, he wasn’t.”

“We won’t let you get the arrow back,” Johana says. “No one else is going to suffer for your entertainment.”

“If I needed the arrow, there wouldn’t be anything you could do to keep me from taking it. Fortunately, I have already created more than enough Stand Users for what comes next.”

“What comes next?”

“War. Not literal war, of course, but something close enough for our purposes. Soon, the Stand Users in this city will begin hunting one another. That bracelet, the one that was around Mylo’s ankle and now is now embedded in your wrist, it is more than just a piece of pretty jewelry. It’s a tracking device. I distributed them to each of the Stand Users I created or found. Using these trackers, I am able to pit Stand Users against one another and see who comes out on top. For example, I sent Mr. Burnham to that hospital tonight so he could fight Mylo Xyloto.”

“I don’t understand. Why would people kill one another just because you tell them to?”

“I envy your naivety, Johana. Violence exists at the center of man’s heart. All these people need is a little push.”

“What kind of push?”

“The promise of power. I possess a method of unlocking a Stand’s full potential, a way to turn even the weakest Stands into unbeatable warriors. Most people would kill for that kind of power. Take Mr. Burnham, for example. Three months ago, he was a timid office temp with anger issues and mood swings. I gave him a Stand and he transformed into the man you met tonight. He robbed banks, he killed those who wronged him, he flew through the air with a power most people dream of, and still he wanted more. I told him I’d strengthen his Stand if he killed a few Stand Users and brought their bracelets back as proof. You know the rest.

“Why are you doing this?”

“To find the strongest Stand User in London. To find the individual fate has chosen to win. To give the power of God to someone worthy of its might.”

Johana rolls her eyes. “Have fun with your little death game, Woody,” she says. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to go back to not having my life threatened every three minutes.”

“If only it was that simple, Johana,” Woodstock says. “You put on Mylo’s bracelet. You’re a part of this now.”

“Like hell I am!” Johana shouts. “I don’t care about Stands, or power, or your stupid little game. I just want to go back to my normal life.”

“You can run away, if you’d like. It won’t end well for you, though. I told my Stand Users that I’d give share the secret to unlocking a Stand’s ultimate potential to the one that brought me all of the bracelets. The spikes in that bracelet won’t retract as long as you breathe. Best to try and win, rather than die while running away.”

“I’ve heard enough,” Johana says before snapping the phone in half.

Kan and Nero walk over, carrying the arrow with them. Johana glances over at Mylo’s body and sighs. “Let’s get out of here,” she says.

TO BE CONTINUED IN:

Chapter 11: Guns and Roses, Part 1

#fanfiction #jojo #jojo's bizarre adventure