Jojo Fanfic - Tumblr Posts

Hi hi!!! I was wondering if I could please request something for young Joseph Joestar?? Maybe where the reader works with Lisa Lisa and Joseph seeks the reader out to “help” with his hamon but really just wants to spend time with her?? I hope that makes sense🙏 just something super cute and fluffy!! I’m such a sucker for Joseph’s cocky but caring attitude :) thank you so much in advance but of course don’t feel pressured to write this if you don’t want to!!

Omg yesss, such a sucker for cocky Joseph🫶

Your job had been a relatively peaceful one, helping maintain the island with Suzi and training with Lisa Lisa and her respectful student, Caesar. It was a quiet life and one that you had gotten into a routine with. That was of course, until he showed up.

All of a sudden your life became entangled with the charismatic and overly cocky Joseph Joestar.

"Come onnnnn just 20 minutes, I might even let you win" Joseph boasted, that cheeky grin plastered on his face

"Enough Jojo, it's practically the middle of the night" you groaned, leaning the front of your body out the window

Joseph stood in the courtyard, two floors down from your room, yelling unapologetically with that mask covering his face doing nothing to quiet his chiding voice.

"I don't have all day!" He called again "you owe me one for doing some of your chores"

You couldn't help but remember that he had been the one to offer to do some of the heavier lifting around the island with no prompting from you in the slightest.

"In the morning Jojo, I'm trying to sleep" you went to close the window before you felt something stop you

You felt the air pressure building around the window, you groaned

"Just because you can use hamon doesn't mean you have to go around using it whenever!"

"If you want me to stop you'll have to make me!" He calls, practically singing each word

"You little-" you storm out from your room and down the stairs, still in your night clothes

You burst out the door into the courtyard, stomping across the cobbles to where he stood outside your now abandoned window.

"Took you long enough! Come now, let's see what you've got" he took a fighting stance, beckoning you with his hand outstretched

"What? you want me to beat you again?" You teased

"Oh we will see about that" he taunted "now, ladies first..."

He gave you the opportunity so you took it. Quickly tackling him and spinning him so you could pin his arms around his back and his front to the ground.

"Don't be cocky if you're just going to lose" you moved allowing him to get up

As he brushed himself off, an embarrassed blush blooming on the tips of his ears, you took the opportunity to jab at him once more

You pocked lightly at his ribs "this really couldn't wait till tomorrow morning?"

"Couldn't sleep and I couldn't think of anything better to do" he laughed, standing up to his full height

"So I'm just a last ditch effort?" You turned to leave and go back to your bed, throwing him a smile over your shoulder

"Awww did you hope I can here just to see you" he chided

You whipped around suddenly to face him, blushing yourself. Admittedly you had sort of hoped he had sought you out to spend time with you, even if it was just training. He had sought out you, not Caesar or anyone else so there was some hope within you.

He laughed at your flustered expression, "and what if I did come here just to see you? Would that be such a crime?"

"That's enough Jojo, I'm going to bed" You glared, ready to give him the cold shoulder but without warning two strong hands threw lifted you into the air.

"What the-? Put me down!" You tried to hide your laughter as Jojo threw you over his shoulder

"We're not done here yet! You're up, I'm up, and I've been waiting all day to have you to myself!"

You went limp and let out an exasperated breath, at least he was being honest now.

It was a night of endless teasing and near constant defeat on the part of Jojo. He only wished this mask wasn't on so he could would kiss that smug grin off your face after the times he had let you win, just to see unmistakable fire in your eyes when knew he would ask for "just one more match"

Ok, I’m a little nervous posting this.... I’ve started writing a fanfic. I haven't written something for myself like this since... beginning of highshool? literal decades ago?? Please be kind, but also let me know what you think!

Jotarox Reader story

Next Chapter> _____

You crashed through the underbrush of the woods, dodging trees as best you could while avoiding missteps that would cost you precious ground and speed. Your pursuers were even louder than you were, shouting to each other and openly communicating their strategy uncaring if you heard them or not.  Luckily it seems that none of them had a clear shot to shoot you again while you all ran at full speed.

You curse the silver scattershot still in your leg, the allergic reaction to the metal making you unable to shift into your wolf form fully. The best you can do for now is your feet and hands to give you extra traction and claws just in case one of them caught up to you. Your body had immediately started healing itself but the pain of the silver and the energy it took to push the pellets out was taking its toll on your overall energy levels.

A sudden crack of a shotgun breaks your concentration and you stumble for a moment before the pain hits you. One of the bastards clipped your thigh and hip of your already wounded leg. Even if you didn’t hit the ground you wouldn’t have been able to go much further taking that much damage to one side. Your partial change even reverts itself as your body prioritizes healing the new wound leaving you barefoot and clawless on the forest floor. You can’t give up here though. You do your best to keep moving, any direction will do as long as its away from the group of hunters.

You don’t make it to the brush and trees ahead of you before the group clamors into the area. You turn and give your best snarl and growl at them. “Fuckin finally! Yo- get a collar on this bitch and let’s get out of here!” One of them moves forward holding a device. You growl louder as he nears, snapping at air as your instincts scream at you to MOVE, to DO SOMETHING before you are apparently taken captive.

A louder growl echoes from the woods around and all movement in the clearing comes to a halt.

The hair on your arms and neck stands straight up as you recognize another predator has entered the fray.

From your right, between you and the group of hunters steps the largest fully transformed wolf you’ve ever seen. He’s probably close to 8 ft tall and made of solid muscle. His black fur made his ghostly blue eyes shine like spectral fire, like burning stars in the night sky of his face. Your body remains frozen in fear. One on one against the hunters you may have stood a chance, but against this behemoth…

He looks directly at you for a moment and even your breath freezes in your lungs. You are almost relieved when the hunters regroup before you do and stumble into formation while shooting at the newcomer. Their shots all miss their target as the large male moves so fast you swear he teleported.

Now that both threats were fully engaged with each other you move as quickly as you can without the use of your injured leg. You whine quietly as your higher thoughts seem to shut off. All you can do now is find shelter and try to hide from whoever is going to be the victor of the fight happening behind you. The sound of fighting and gunshots grows more distant and you are unsure if its because you are making progress at fleeing the scene or the other wolf is leading them away.

It seems to take forever in your adrenalin and instinct haze but you come across an outcropping of rocks. Perhaps you can fit between them or… wait, there is a ledge. The jutting rock looks like it makes an alcove big enough and deep enough to give you some shelter, or at least limit who would be small enough to come crawling in after you. You shuffle in and lie on your side pressing your back to the solid rock and facing the entrance of your not-quite a cave.

You can’t hear anything for minutes besides your own panting and occasional whine that slips from your throat. You calm down after a bit and realize you really can’t hear any noise, not the sound of fighting but also not the other sounds of the forest. The narrow view out the entrance looks like it has been frozen in time. Not even the trees sway to make a sound in the wind.

The unnatural silence is explained as the massive wolf fills your view of the outside world. He sniffs the air and you realize no matter how good your hiding spot was it had all been for naught as you had left a trail of blood behind in your escape. He looks directly at you and for a moment you are tempted to hide your face and show submission. No. If this is the end you won’t cower like a pup. You hold the eye contact as he shifts away from the entrance.

Then he completely flips your expectations as instead of charging in or trying to dig you out he instead drops his transformation. His black fur sheds to the ground and in its place is slightly tanned skin and short black hair. He’s still one of the largest men you’ve ever seen and has the bone structure of a tank. He slowly removes the oversized coat he’s wearing leaving him in a tight black turtleneck.

He doesn’t break the steady eye contact as he lays the coat on the ground and remains kneeling after spreading it out like a blanket. You hear a low rumble and realize he’s purring.

You let out a loud whine in response, your instincts are begging you to trust this stranger. He’s had ample opportunity to try and attack or threaten but he’s showing you submission. You know he wants to help. He purrs louder in response and lifts his hands out in offering.

You nod to him and slowly crawl out of your hiding spot, keeping weight off your leg as best you can. You stop just before you reach his coat on the ground. The line in the sand. You look at it numbly while your instincts scream at you to just go ahead. He’s offering safety. You need to be safe.

His purrs rumble even louder and he extends his hands again reaching out to you but not grabbing. You nod and take his hands and he pulls you easily to lean on his chest, uncaring that your blood is messing up his white coat and pants. You sigh as you let yourself rest against him. He supports you with a hand in the middle of your back as he leans over to gather his coat from the floor in his other hand.

Carefully he wraps you up in the large coat, which is more like a blanket on you due to it being made for someone so much bigger than you. You rest your head on his shoulder as he stands up with you in his arms and walks calmly into the forest.

   Next Chapter>

No One Lives Forever- CH13

(AO3 link)

Stardust Crusader Wolf Pack AU

[From the beginning- CH1]

<Previous Chapter    Next Chapter>

New York streets are busy at any time of day and more so this early in the morning, people rushing their way down the street to get to work. Avdol and Joseph took a more sedated pace, letting the stream of humans flow around them like the torrents of a river. The walk to Avdol’s family’s shop was a fair distance from the new apartment but the act of patrolling around the new territory had a calming effect on their instincts. And since there was no real rush, why not enjoy the feeling for a bit?

Avdol’s tests and research the night before had revealed there were no active spells placed upon the pack, but faint magic residue was definitely attached to Joseph and Jotaro. It explained the frequent encounters and led Avdol to believe this was indeed being orchestrated by someone with a grudge against the Joestar line. The spell work was too faded to trace back to the caster, but with some specialized tools from the occult shop they could ward themselves from future spells.

“I still wish we had you examine that hunter from upstate. Maybe you could have traced the magic sooner.” Joseph grumbles as he puts his hands in his jacket pockets and sulks as they walk.

“I’m afraid it wouldn’t have done much good. I’d still be lacking the tools I need. After all, we weren’t expecting to encounter anyone, much less magic users.” Avdol does his best to reassure the older alpha, reverting back to their rolls of alpha and beta from before Jotaro was named leader of the pack. Joseph grumbles a bit more but lets the issue go, relaxing slightly as they continue their walk.

Avdol’s pace quickens slightly as the shop comes into view as they round the last corner. The occult shop occupied a narrow business space at street level, only a single door and large window with the words ‘OCCULT SUPPLIES * TAROT READINGS * WALK-INS WELCOME’ in gold font painted on the glass. Arrays of crystals, decorative knives and card decks lay just behind the glass on display to entice visitors to enter.

A bell attached to the door jingles pleasantly as they enter. From the back of the shop an older female voice calls, “Make yourself comfortable Muhammad, we’ll be out in just a moment!”

Joseph blinks in astonishment before catching Avdol’s smirk as they seat themselves at the reading table. He nods as he laughs a bit, “Right, fortune teller. She always catches me off guard with that. I’m not used to being on the other end of that trick.”

“You know by now it’s no trick Joseph.” An older black woman exits the back room of the store with the help of her cane. Her hair is styled into braids forming a bun on the top of her head, once black hair now mostly grey and silver. He half moon glasses are decorated with a beaded chain that clinks together with her jewelry as she moves.

Joseph just laughs “Well it is a trick when I do it Mrs. Avdol. I assume you know why we’re here then?” She nods and takes her seat at the table.

“My sight has shown me many things in the last few weeks. Your pack has encountered many bizarre things these past few days, correct?” Her kind brown eyes are serious as she looks at Joseph, waiting for his response.

He confirms with a nod and attempts to lighten the mood with a grin as he turns to Avdol, “How did you ever surprise her with birthday gifts?”

“Just because I’m not surprised does not mean I’m not happy, especially to see my only son.” Mrs. Avdol teasingly pinches her son’s cheek as he laughs with her.

“Mother, please!” Avdol brushes off her pinching fingers, “You act as thought I don’t visit!” he gives her hand a squeeze as she takes it back to rest both on the table.

The grandfather clock in the shop chimes 9 o’clock as Avdol’s father enters with a tray of coffee. “Right on time as always dear. Have you started the reading yet?” Mr. Avdol asks as he hands out the beverages.

“How could I concentrate on that if I know there was coffee on the way?” She grins and cackles as her husband takes his seat as well. “Thank you honey. Now…” Mrs. Avdol pulls a box from a nearby drawer and opens it revealing a deck of cards. “Before we get to the reason for your visit, first things first, the reading of your cards.” She slides the deck across the table face down to Joseph and Avdol. “Place your hands on top and we’ll see what fate has in store for you.” They both do as instructed and Joseph swears he gets a tingle in his fingers every time he does this.

“Good. As always, we start with the past, so we understand the context of the present and future.” Mrs. Avdol shuffles the deck a bit before spreading them in an arch on the table and indicating to her son. “Three cards please, Muhammad.”

One by one Avdol turns cards picked at random from the spread, first the tower, followed by the moon and strength. “Ah, so your journey has already been interrupted by calamity. Three powerful encounters behind you, but many more to come.” She picks up the rest of the undisturbed cards and re-shuffles them before spreading them out again. “I’ll draw your present.” The next three cards are even more ominous, the devil followed by justice and the world. “These represent the current danger, though I feel as though these two are more passive at the moment. A long-term danger to your pack.” She says as she points to justice and the world.

“You’re telling me we’re going to have to fight the devil?” Joseph groans and rubs his face, “Seriously? What crappy luck we’re having lately.”

Mrs. Avdol chuckles and corrects him “You know it’s rarely that straight forward. The devil is a subjugator, you will probably be facing a servant sent to fight you.”

She picks up the deck once more but pauses as she’s about to shuffle. A look of deep concentration passes over her features before she hands the deck to Joseph. “I feel you should shuffle this time, Joseph. And pick as many cards as you feel you need.” Mr. Avdol’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead in surprise but he remains silent as they continue the reading.

“Well, this is new.” Joseph is also surprised and quickly takes the cards and starts to shuffle. Instead of spreading them on the table he holds them as he draws a few cards from the middle. As they leave the deck, two others slip with them and fall to the floor face down. He tries to laugh off his clumsiness and quickly pick them up but Avdol stops him, his face serious as he watches his mother pick up the cards and turn them face up on the table. The Avdol family share a look between them before they turn back to Joseph.

“Even accidents hold meaning when reading the cards. These two,” Mrs. Avdol taps the fallen cards now revealed to be the hierophant and the hermit. “Together they represent knowledge and reflection, but that they fell… there will be a price to pay for the knowledge gained.”

Joseph’s brows furrow as he looks on at the ill-fated cards. Mrs. Avdol reaches out to gently take back the deck and his chosen cards, startling Joseph out of his thoughts. His cards remain face down as he asks, “I’m assuming when a psychic tells you there ‘will be a price to pay’, you aren’t talking about cash. What’s going to happen? This is my pack- my family we’re talking about. I’d gladly pay any ‘price’ to keep them safe.”

Mrs. Avdol pats his clenched fist on the table as Muhammad claps a hand to Joseph’s shoulder. “You know I would tell you if I could see, Joseph. All I can tell you is you will have to make this choice; the rest is foggy. Events are fluctuating around you and your pack.” She turns back to the cards he picked out and flips them face up: the star, the magician, the chariot and the fool. “These however look like good omens. Your pack learning and growing in strength and number. The way forward is a hard path, but the bonds of your pack are strong. If you rely and trust each other and your allies, I predict you will prevail over the enemies I cannot see.” With the reading over she scoops the cards back up from the table and shuffles the deck before putting it back in its box.

Joseph remains tense and contemplative as Avdol turns to his mother again, “Thank you, as always, for the insight. But we need to ask for an additional favor. I fear our enemy, or enemies, have a magic user with them. Would you be able to…”?

“Make you some protection charms?” Mrs. Avdol motions to her husband and he reaches for a tan drawstring pouch that had been sitting on the shelf full of miscellaneous items behind him. The contents of the sack clink gently as it’s placed in front of Avdol. “As I said, my visions have been unusually active for the past few weeks. I didn’t know when you would need them so I prepared them beforehand. Wear these charms at all times and you will be protected from nosey witches and the evil eye they cast on you.”

Avdol looks through the pouch of charms for a moment before taking out and opal earing and holding it to the light to inspect it. “Ah, this spell work should do nicely. Thank you.” He clips the earing to his ear before rifling through the bag and handing Joseph a metal bracelet, silver vines and thorns twisting around the band in intricate knots.

Mr. Avdol rises from his seat and makes his way to the back room with the empty coffee cups as his son secures the pouch in his travel satchel. Mrs. Avdol grabs his attention again, “Be warned, these will not be able to block more powerful spells entirely. Use caution and put up your wards like I taught you.”

“Of course. I’ve already started placing wards on our new lodgings. Now, about the shop… I feel it may be best if you and father left town while we get the situation under control.” Avdol places his hand on his mother’s arm as he implores her to close up shop.

Mrs. Avdol just chuckles as Mr. Avdol returns to the front room carrying luggage with him. Mr. Avdol chuckles along with his wife, “Don’t you know by now Muhammad? Your mother was just waiting to say goodbye to her son.”

<Previous Chapter    Next Chapter>

Author’s Note:

I am alive! Sorry everyone, life got real crazy for me for a while. Had some family health scares (everyone is fine now), work schedule changes, moved, gained a roommate... still adjusting to the new changes but I've found time to write again! artwork is still on pause till I can set up my workspace properly.

Anyway just wanted to say sorry for the long break, but I'm gonna finish this thing no matter what- 13/52 complete so far !

No One Lives Forever- CH14

(AO3 link)

Stardust Crusader Wolf Pack AU

[From the beginning- CH1]

<Previous Chapter    Next Chapter>

Despite your protests that Polnareff had definitely jinxed himself, the plan remained the same- Polnareff would check out the hunters house alone and report back what he found. Kakyoin seemed to be on the same page as you, making comments to Jotaro and Pol to try and convince them he could be of help on this trip. Polnareff interrupts his final point by placing a hand on Kakyoin’s shoulder. “Mon ami, I’ve been doing this for a long time now. Trust me when I say this is very low risk. We know he won’t be returning to his house, and if I see any activity I’ll leave and report what I can.”

Kakyoin sigs before relenting, “I just can’t shake this feeling of dread. I must still be on edge from the previous encounters. I don’t mean to doubt your ability, please just be careful.”

Polnareff laughs off Kakyoin’s serious expression, “Of course! When am I ever not careful on my investigations?” He grins brightly as Jotaro and Kakyoin share a glance.

“Well, there was the time the old man asked you to check out those sketchy apartments by the river. And you ended up walking in on a coven of witches.” Jotaro leans back in the dining chair and crosses his arms as he examines Pol.

“Or the time you almost started a territory dispute by following your target all over town.”

“And remember…”

“OK! Alright! You’ve both made very good points. I’ll be careful” Polnareff’s cheerful grin had morphed into a grimace as he waved his arms in a motion to stop. The three of you just chuckle as Polnareff collects his laptop and heads out the door with a wave goodbye.

Deciding to take the subway rather than waste time walking the whole way, Polnareff soon arrived at the parking garage he left his car. Horns blare at him as he forces his silver Toyota between two work trucks to merge onto the main street outside the garage. Chipped paint and a sun-faded ‘NY Knights Rugby’ team sticker the only think the angry plumber behind him sees before Polnareff is speeding away and merging onto the highway that will take him to New Jersey.

The rest of the trip is uneventful, or at least normal for New York area traffic. Slowing down to just under the speed limit, Polnareff checks the house numbers as he passes by against the hand written notes with him. Finally finding 912 Ebony Street, he passes by the house at a crawl to scope it out- no lights on or other cars in the driveway. He circles the block to get a look at the back door but can’t see much from the narrow gaps between houses.

Back on the main street he heads towards the restaurant down the street he scoped out online. The front windows would have a good view of the street and Kyle Kavinsky’s driveway in case the deceased hunter had a roommate or girlfriend currently at work.

Entering the restaurant, he purposely emphasizes the French part of his French-Canadian accent as he gives his most flirtatious look he can muster to the hostess, “Ah, cherri. Would it be possible to sit near the window as I eat? I’d like to have a view as I get some last-minute work done.” He shifts and gestures to the laptop in his bag. The hostess plasters her best ‘retail’ smile on but doesn’t reciprocate his flirty look as she leads him to a window seat. Polnareff quickly orders a sandwich and coffee from the waiter and sets out his laptop to look like he’s getting some work done.

It’s nearing peak dinner rush at the restaurant before he decides he’s waited long enough scoping out the 2-story house down the road. Most neighbors have been home for a while now, lights in adjacent houses turning off and on as they go about their nightly routines. He stows his laptop and bag in the footwell of the passenger side before circling the block again to check out the back of the house one last time. Finding an open parking spot on the street he quickly takes it, squeezing into the space rather than park in Kavinsky’s drive way to avoid suspicion and better hide his license plates.

He casually walks up to the house, subtly keeping an eye out for nosey neighbors watching him. No one seems to be paying attention but he still makes a show of loitering by the door as he checks his phone then under the door mat for a spare key. Finding none, he strolls to the back of the house to the back door. there is no deadbolt on this one so a quick turn has the knob bent and broken in his hand.

The backdoor leads directly into the kitchen and Polnareff quickly covers his mouth and nose to block the smell of old dishes left in the sink. He makes his way to the front room, definitely a bachelor pad, the only furniture in the room is a single recliner pulled up to the TV. More disposable plates and old pizza boxes are gathered up in trash bags by the front door, ready to be taken out. There is nothing of interest on the first floor, so Polnareff quickly ascends the stairs to check out the bedrooms.

The first door on the right reveals a single twin mattress on the floor, clothes scattered about and sheets tossed around the room. A quick look in the closet uncovers a few dress shirts actually hanging up and an accordion folder. He quickly takes some photos of the documents inside but nothing in the folder jumps out as immediately important. He puts the documents back as he found them and closes the door again on his way out.

The second door opens to a modest unremarkable bathroom, but the third door leads to a practically empty room except for a standing mirror. Something about the lone piece of furniture felt ominous and Polnareff made sure to keep out of its line of sight on instinct. Looking closer, the floor of the room has markings all over, like someone had been drawing on the worn wood with chalk but gave up and erased their work. He takes more pictures and sends them to Avdol before backing out of this room as well.

Polnareff: Found this at the house- can you make out what he was trying to do?

Avdol: DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING!

Avdol: especially not the mirror itself. I’ll see if I can make out what rune system he was using.

Polnareff grunts to himself and mumbles, “no shit I’m not touching this stuff Avdol, I’m not an idiot.” But he holds back and just replies:

Polnareff: Got it- won’t touch anything witch-y looking. I’ll let you guys know if I find anything else.

Avdol: OK. I should have some ideas after I do some research. I’ll go over with everyone tonight.

Polnareff nods to himself as he locks his phone and shoves it back into his pocket, continuing his search of the house.

As he shuts the door to the ritual room his acute hearing picks up a soft ‘thump’ from the ceiling. Polnareff holds perfectly still for a moment, the only sound he can hear is the beating of his own heart. But then there is another thump and a scraping sound from above him. He surveys the hallway and quietly opens the last door, revealing the narrow stairway to the attic. Whatever was making the sound has stopped and a deep breath gives no other identifiable smells other than decay and dust.

Carefully ascending the stairway, he lets his hands partially transform- fingers elongating and nails thickening to claws. The space is packed to the rafters with old boxes and precariously stacked items. Old dresses, China dolls and other knick-knacks reveal the storage space must be full of the landlord’s or a previous tenant’s things. The pathway through the junk is half-hazardously cleared at best, towering stacks and blind corners keep him from gaining a good vantage point to survey the area.

Another thump from around the corner freezes Polnareff in his tracks and he carefully peaks around the corner of stacked boxes. His hair stands on end when he sees a solitary doll sitting in the middle of the path, its eyes staring straight at him. He’s stuck in a staring contest for a moment before carefully stepping forward and picking it up. Taking another deep breath fails to yield any new scents but his sharp eyesight catches a pattern in the dust on the floor where the doll was sitting. Silently setting the doll back down, he follows the new trail weaving between towers of junk.

A space near the only window in the attic had been cleared to make room for the large mirror and runes on the floor, unlike the ritual space in the bedroom below this one was pristine in its rune work. As he drew near, he could feel the power pulsing from the mirror but before he could inspect it further a louder ‘thump’ from behind him had Polnareff spinning around on his heel. A terrible shriek is all the warning he had before a shadowy figure lunged at him and knocked him back away from the runes.

Polnareff slammed into the tower of boxes behind him, slightly dazed from the blow as he gets a good look at his assailant. But even though he’s face to face with the creature, it’s still hard to make out the details clearly, its shape undefined and changing like smoke. Although it’s playing tricks on his eyes, he is able to see the two glowing red eyes in its elongated face before it shrieks again and lunges. There is barely enough time to shift into his wolf form before parrying its face first attack and gripping the creature by its muzzle. Its eyes seem to blaze brighter as Polnareff snarls at it and throws it off of him.

The tiny space between the towers of junk and debris doesn’t leave much room to maneuver but the creature still stomps its cloven hooved feet and paws at the ground in preparation to charge. Polnareff growls louder in warning and lowers himself to brace for the impact. The wings on the creatures back emerge from the smoky shroud they had been covered in, the smoke dissipating the longer this encounter lasted. With a flap of its leathery wings, it lowered its head and charged forward, Polnareff managing to catch it by the curved horns on its head before it made contact with his chest. Stubby clawed hands scrape and scramble against the werewolf’s superior strength before it launches itself backward again, jerking it from his grip with another flap of wings.

Polnareff recovers and lowers himself into a runner’s start position with one clawed hand on the floor for balance. He launches himself forward and catches the thing by the arm and shoulder, cracking its thin bones in his grip before slamming it into the floor. The force of the blow cracks the wood and the mountains of junk shift in on them as the beam snaps and they tumble into the 2nd floor bedroom.

The creature is able to recover first, slipping from Polnareff’s grip as he tries to deflect the junk raining down on him from above. It scrambles across the floor and tears up the mattress as it spins around in an arc to whip the barbed end of its long tail at Polnareff. It makes contact with his forearm as he tries to deflect the blow, leaving a deep mark that soon begins to burn. His eyes widen and he lets out another snarl as the burning intensifies- his arm losing strength as the venom infects it. His accelerated healing can barely keep it at bay as his arm goes numb, and he’s barely able to make a fist with that hand.

Taking care to avoid its tail barb is more difficult than he expected. The open room allows the creature to reach its top speed. Powerful flaps of its wings allow it to change direction suddenly to avoid his attacks and use its momentum to launch into spinning attacks with its tail whenever possible. Although it is much faster now that its not impeded by all the junk in the way, so is Polnareff. He trades blows with it for a short while before he is finally able to grab onto its tail mid swing, launching it into the closet door and snapping the thin bones of its tail at the same time.

The screech it lets out causes him to falter and it stabilizes itself in preparation to charge head on again. Polnareff recovers and recognizes the position, this time meeting it half way and grabbing it by the throat as it tries to rear back in surprise. He slams it to the floor with a sickening crack and Polnareff prepares for the floor to crumble away as it did in the attic above. After a moment in braced position, he looks up and realizes the that floor of the 2nd level must be sturdier than the attic. The devil underneath him is also un-moving and Polnareff realizes he must have knocked it unconscious with the last blow.

However, as he cautiously steps away from the beast it doesn’t move even to breath and he realizes the crack he heard must have been its spine or skull. Panting, he lest out a groan as he lets his transformation drop and slouches to the floor using the doorframe as support to slide down. The wounds on his arm and other scratches left behind by the venomous tail bleed sluggishly as he rests for a moment to gather his strength.

After catching his breath, Polnareff quickly finds his phone from where he dropped it in the attic and takes some more pictures of the ritual mirror upstairs and close ups of the creature’s corpse for proof of the bizarre encounter. The deepest wounds on his arms are still burning and refuse to close, so he finds some clean paper towels and wraps them in a makeshift bandage.

He makes it back to his car without any witnesses and shoots a group text to the pack- pictures of the creature attached. Within second his phone starts to ring- Mr. Joestar- on the caller ID. “Mr. Joestar, you are not going to believe this. I’m headed back now, but listen…” As Polnareff recounts the nights events and pulls out of the parking space dusk finally starts to set in, the clouds slowly losing their gold and rosy pink hues as Polnareff sets out back towards the city.

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Author's Note:

Hey. How yall doin? Its been a while…. I swear I will finish this if it’s the last thing I do. Yall have fun with this adventure Polnareff vs. the Jersey Devil? Shout out to @jotaroslightning on tumblr for the baddie’s first name!

No One Lives Forever- CH16

(AO3 link)

Stardust Crusader Wolf Pack AU

[From the beginning- CH1]

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A dwindling number of party attendees twirl on the ballroom floor, weaving between light and shadow of the burnt-out candles of the chandeliers overhead. Intoxicated stumbling of patrons is compounded with the hazards of broken flooring and the occasional chunk of ceiling falling onto the gathering. From the darkest shadows otherworldly creatures lurk closer to the festivities, ready to pluck dancers from the crowd as they pass.

The main feast table is more barren than ever, scraps of meats and heels of bread leftover on large platters. The fresh dishes lack the elegance and garnish of before and are now immediately recognizable as humanoid. Other body parts belonging to werewolves and other supernatural creatures are intermingled on the plates, the chefs apparently uninterested in disguising or cooking the hunted game.

The witch Enyaba makes her way to the lone figure at the head of the feast table, her cane clacking over stones as she ignores and passes the creatures of the dark. In contrast to his deteriorating surroundings, Dio seems to radiate energy, his eyes sharp as ever as they fall on the witch. He waits patiently like a snake coiled to strike as she bows before him and awaits his signal to rise.

“Arise, Enyaba.” Dio says with a chuckle, “What news do you bring me this time?”

“My Lord, some of the foot soldiers sent out have successfully encountered the Joestar pack on their way back to the city. I have instructed the rest to close in and find their new den.” Enyaba grins and grips her staff tighter, “But the most exciting news is yet to come. Please, follow me and I will show you.” She turns from him and waves her hand to motion him her way.

He rises from his throne without objection and lets her lead the way through dim corridors and broken hallways. Parts of the castle are crumbling away and revealing the courtyard beyond the walls. They quickly reach Enyaba’s instrument room, a large mirror sitting center stage and surrounded by impossibly complex runes carved into the stone floor.

A quick incantation and the mirror’s surface flickers as a new image appears. The reflection of a city street takes form for only a moment before it fades and a view of what looks like a building lobby takes its place. This too fades and is replaced, the mirror cycling through images as Enyaba curses. “Damn them. They must have the protection of another sorcerer on their side. They are thwarting my attempts to see!”

“This is what you wanted me to see?” Dio’s eyes narrow as he glares at her, “You interrupt my meal for this?” he hisses.

“N-no my Lord! This is merely a setback, but this- this is what you must see.” The surface of the mirror ripples once more before setting on a new view. This one seems to be the reflection of a police car’s rearview mirror, metal caging obscuring some of the backseat and a dense forest outside its windows.

The view is suddenly shaken as something slides across the trunk of the vehicle, leaving a wet trail in the moonlight. A human-ish hand is the only thing clearly visible as a shadow follows the path of the thrown object. Its fingers give away the fact that this shade is clearly not human though, easily twice the size of a normal human hand and tipped with wicked claws. A single reflective eye is visible as the creature turns for a brief moment towards the mirror before it is gone out of view again.

Dio is startled from the vision as Enyaba cackles and pointe her cane at the mirror. “Ha! Behold my masterwork- my greatest creation yet!” Dio quickly composes himself before the old witch turns to him, ignoring the uncomfortable bead of sweat that rolls down the back of his neck.

“This creature, your ‘masterwork’. How exactly is this of benefit to me?”

“Ah, this is the next phase of my plan, my Lord. While the expendable lesser creatures search and aim to flush out the Joestars, this creature will instead act as a lure. You see, my child and the silver wolf Polnareff share a common history, though they have not yet met in person.”

“And you are confident this… thing will be enough to defeat my enemies?”

“You have my word, my Lord! My son and the other assassin I sent to these woods will be the demise of the entire Joestar pack. Yes, yes,” Enyaba rubs her hands together as she chuckles to herself, “My son the wendigo will make quick work of whomever he encounters.”

*********************************************

The waning mood provided little light as the state trooper tried desperately to reach his car. The dispatcher had warned of the possibly dangerous scenario, but nothing could have prepared him and his partner for the scene they stumbled upon.

The cabin door had been ripped from its hinges before they arrived, light from inside spilling out over the porch illuminating numerous puddles of blood, a trail leading to the woods surrounding the camp. With pistols drawn, the officers first searched the cabin but no signs of life were found. The interior looks undisturbed, the occupants not able to reach its safety in time.

The officer quickly put a call in for more backup before turning to investigate the entry to the woods where the blood trails led. Approaching slowly and taking care to scan the environment was not enough to save the first officer from the creature that lunged from the shadows with a hideous shriek.

Blood sprays across the second officer’s face and chest before his instincts take over and he tries to retreat to the safety of the squad car. He’s not fast enough and the creature outpaces him within a few steps and suddenly he’s airborne from the force of the hit to his side, he slides across the back of the car and is barely conscious enough to turn over to face his attacker. A scream bubbles in his chest as the last sight he sees is a skeletal humanoid with razor sharp teeth in its protruding maw descending upon him to strike the killing blow.

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Author's Note:

Yup, DIO up to no good. I decided to make the hanged man into the scariest creature I know of just in time for Halloween! I got my rhythm back for writing, real life has been in flux for a while of work requirements changing, roommate moving in, I got side tracked by some craft projects (still jojo related, cant escape the jojo brain-rot). BUT I have a production plan in place again, I'm planning on posting a new chapter every other weekend!

Also if you have any questions or want some info about this AU in general feel free to send me some asks! I'd love to talk about this more in-depth!

No One Lives Forever- CH17

(AO3 link)

Stardust Crusader Wolf Pack AU

[From the beginning- CH1]

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You’re woken up by the sound of pounding from down the hall and Joseph’s voice yelling at someone to ‘hurry up’. You don’t open your eyes at first, refusing to ruin he moment of peace and bask in the warmth of the bed. The knocking and noise continue however, and you crack your eyes open when you feel a gust of air against your neck. A mess of black hair obscures your view of his face, but you can feel Jotaro's chin resting on your shoulder and his nose buried in the side of your neck.

Jotaro shifts his grip as he begins to wake up as well, his hand flexing where it is resting on your stomach spanning up to the bottom of your rib cage. You can’t help but giggle at the feeling of him nosing at the skin below your ear as he grumbles at a particularly loud bang from the hallway. Your free hand slides off of his as he wraps his arm fully around you in a hug. You smooth back some of his hair from tickling your nose as you look down at him. After a few more moments Jotaro decides it’s time to fully wake up and pulls back slowly, looking up at you with soft blue eyes to gauge your reaction.

Your hand moves down to his shoulder as you tilt your face towards his, noses nearly touching. His arm around you holds tight and he leans into your body before the loud slamming of a door startles the two of you apart to look at the bedroom door. It’s thankfully still closed and you laugh as you hear Caesar grumbling and cursing in Italian. Jotaro huffs out a quiet chuckle as well as he rolls away onto his back and stretches.

“Are they this loud every morning?” You ask as you rub the sleep from your eyes and yawn.

Jotaro nods, “I can’t believe you slept through it yesterday.”

You let out a non-committal hum as you fight against the pull of sleep. You feel him sit up and crack an eye open again to catch him staring at you. With the faintest curl of his lips, he turns away and starts getting ready for the day. You give him only a few moments head start before you rise from the bed as well.

You’re tempted to break the silence and talk about what just happened- or nearly happened- but you get the feeling this will be the last moment of peace today. You decide to bide your time. After all, once may be a fluke, but twice sets a pattern.

Miraculously, you aren’t the last one to the dining area today. Polnareff and Lucky are still absent from the group, Avdol and Caesar working in the kitchen on breakfast while everyone else congregates in the dining and living areas. You make a mental note to help out whoever is cooking dinner tonight.

By the time breakfast is ready Polnareff has appeared, hair wet and drooping from its usual mohawk. Lucky is not far behind him, clean shaven and neatly dressed. Everyone takes a seat at the table, Jotaro electing to sit between Caesar and Joseph instead of beside you like normal, deep in discussion with the older alphas.

You find yourself instead seated between Kakyoin and donna, who it would seem is a morning person. Then again, she may just always be full of energy. Fortunately, she doesn’t seem to mind your lingering drowsiness as she happily carries the conversation. Kakyoin joins in from your other side and saves you from having to exert too much brain power this morning. Which is a blessing because you find yourself day dreaming of blue eyes drawing closer and closer before you catch yourself and snap back to the present.

As you all finish up your meal Jotaro breaks from his conversations with the other alphas, turning his attention to Polnareff. “How are you healing up from yesterday?”

Polnareff puts down his fork and flexes his arm, showing off while trying to make eye contact with Donna. “As good as new! That devil was fast but not strong enough to keep me down.”

Jotaro eyes the two of them with a slight smile on his face, “That’s good to hear. You up for looking into the other hunters today?” Polnareff quickly schools his face into a serious expression and nods. “Good. No more solo trips though. From now on everyone needs to have at least one person with them. It doesn’t matter if it’s just to the corner store and back, no exceptions. We all clear on this?” Jotaro and Caesar look around the table at their packs, quiet nods from everyone agreeing with the alpha’s decision. “Any volunteers to go with Polnareff today?”

Lucky raises his hand and gets a nod of approval from his father, “I will. I’d like to get a closer look at what we’re dealing with. If they are from the same group Frankie and I caught around the company offices.” Joseph nods sagely as he cups his chin with his hand and Jotaro agrees to the plan.

“Joseph and I will be making a trip to the offices today actually. We’ll investigate where you caught them but our primary goal is going to be looking for a new cabin outside the city.” Caesar puts his elbows on the table and clasps his hands together as he goes over the next steps in his plan. “We’ve decided to have all of the pack members that won’t be able to fight gathered in one place. This should provide them the safety of numbers even if their hiding spot is discovered. Avdol- I’d like to ask you for an additional favor to protect them from magical elements as well.” Caesar’s gaze is unwavering as he looks at Avdol, waiting for his response.

“Of course. I’ll need to make a trip to procure some additional supplies though. And I’m still missing some items to put stronger protection spells on this place.” He gestures with one hand to the apartment.

Donna immediately jumps into the conversation, “I’ll go with you! We can get more groceries on the way back, I noticed about half the food in this place is junk food.” Avdol laughs at Donna’s comment and you put two and two together when you see Joseph turn away from the conversation with a huff and a pout.

“Kakyoin, (Y/N) and I will check out one of the hunter’s places as well.” You perk up as Jotaro goes over your roll in today’s plans. “That will cover all the leads we have at the moment, but we have to be prepared for anything going forward. No more incidents like yesterday.” Although you can tell Jotaro doesn’t put any of the blame on him, Polnareff still slumps in his seat a bit.

With the plans for the day laid out, you all quickly clear the table and get ready to head out. Polnareff and Lucky are first to leave, taking two printed pages pulled from Polnareff’s briefcase with them. Before he leaves, he hands a few more sheets to Jotaro and you can see they are dossiers of the hunters he’s collected so far.

While Kakyoin and Jotaro go over the pages, Joseph and Caesar head out, Avdol and donna leaving not long after them, grocery list in hand. You figure Kakyoin has the default roll of navigator as he quickly plans out what subway lines will get you to the hunter’s home the fastest. “It will be a bit of a walk after the stop. We should consider picking up your car on the way back.” Jotaro nods at Kakyoin's advice, agreeing to the plan.

The brisk fall air has you shoving your hands into your jacket pockets as the three of you emerge from the apartment building. The morning sun illuminates the fog of your breath, the air just cold enough to make it look like everyone is puffing away on a cigarette as they make their way down the street. Kakyoin leads the way, his navigation skills proving invaluable as he guides you and Jotaro trough the subway and the train lines you need to travel to get to the hunter’s house.

Its less than 20 minutes later as you arrive at the hunter’s neighborhood. You can feel yourself tensing as your journey continues. All the new smells and people combined with the fact you’re investigating someone who was literally trying to kidnap you. Who would have succeeded if…

A tug on your sleeve pulls you out of your spiraling thoughts and you whip your head towards the source. Jotaro’s intense blue eyes are already locked on your own and you nearly stumble with the memory of them from this morning. Now, however, they look concerned, brows furrowed as he tries to silently interoperate your mood.

You’re not sure what you meant to say when you opened your mouth to respond to his inquisitive look, but Kakyoin’s sudden shout derails any thought anyway. You both snap your heads to the redhead who is already charging down the street. You take off after him, not even sure why you are all suddenly booking it until you see the figure of a man in front of Kakyoin leading this chase carrying what you recognize as Kakyoin’s shoulder bag. The thief must have cut the strap while you and Jotaro were distracted, you can see it streaming along behind the thief like a tail on a kite.

Pedestrians on the sidewalk stop to stare after the thief and his pursuers, inadvertently becoming obstacles in your way as you and Jotaro try and catch up to Kakyoin. The red wolf is close to snagging the back of the thief’s shirt when he makes a sudden turn into an alley. In the few seconds it takes you and Jotaro to arrive, Kakyoin is already leading the man out of the alley bey his shirt collar and holding his stolen bag. He throws the thief against the wall and steps back as Jotaro and you crowd in to block any escape routes.

He keeps his hands up in surrender but the small smirk on his lips makes your hair stand on end and you can’t help the low growl that rumbles from your chest. Jotaro’s growl overshadows your own as he glares at the thief. “You stink of magic- you’re not a normal human, are you?” You inhale sharply at Jotaro’s comment and commit the smell to memory.

You both take a half step forward, just out of range of the thief- or new would-be assassin. You’re wary of drawing closer without knowing what he’s capable of, you’ll have to bide your time and pay close attention to see what he does. He seems to know he has the three of you at a disadvantage, unable to shift forms in broad daylight like this. “What were you hoping to accomplish, targeting us when you’re outnumbered like this?” The man stays silent as he glares right back at Jotaro, you can tell the alpha is getting more and more frustrated with each silent second that passes.

Jotaro moves to close in and get physical with his interrogation, but jolts when he realizes his feet are stuck to the sidewalk. The man’s grin widens further as Jotaro struggles to shake off the muck creeping up his legs. You growl louder as you try to free your own feet and with a little force you are freed. Jotaro must have been the main target, his legs are still cemented to the ground and the man laughs as you both follow the trail of muck with your eyes to where Kakyoin is standing.

Mud trails a path from Jotaro’s legs behind you leading to Kakyoin’s shoes. His clothes look slightly wrong, like they were made of melting wax, and muck drips from his hands at his sides. You look up to his face to try and gauge his expression. Blank violet eyes stare out at nothing and you realize there are no clouds of breath escaping his mouth or nose. Whatever is standing in front of you is not Kakyoin, it’s not even alive.

You try to get close to Jotaro to maybe help remove some of the mud, but as you draw near the imposter Kakyoin takes a step forward and more muck drips off of him and starts creeping towards you. You’re forced away from Jotaro and your enemy as the fake keeps advancing on you. “Ha! I don’t see what the big deal was about you wolves. You’re useless if you can’t transform, aren’t you? Now that I see you in person, I can tell you aren’t all you were hyped up to be.” The man scoffs as he steps closer to Jotaro to taunt him.

Jotaro snarls and lunges but the man stays infuriatingly just out of reach. “What the hell are you talking about? What have you done with Kakyoin?” No matter how hard he struggles the mud at his feet keeps him rooted in place.

The fake person lumbering towards you seems to be on autopilot, so you decide to take a risk and charge at the man while he’s distracted taunting Jotaro. A startled yelp leaves you as the false Kakyoin quickly intercepts you and grabs onto your fist before you can make contact with the man controlling it. The mud encasing your hand begins creeping up your wrist and you take the risk to transform your other hand into claws and swipe at the arm holding you captive.

Slicing through the wrist of the creature severs the mud clear through but as you step back again, you’re unable to shake off the residue remaining on your hand. A slight stinging sensation spreads from where it is making contact with your skin, growing in strength like a chemical burn the longer it remains in contact. You’re able to finally wipe off the majority of it as the puppet master smirks at you and begins to brag.

“Face it! You’re no match for my golem. Once it’s had its fill of you both I’ll deliver the best parts to Lord Dio. He’s promised to pay be handsomely for your flesh, but a little snack for my pet won’t hurt.”

That nobody is around to witness the fight is the work of either magic or a miracle, but Jotaro uses it to his advantage to shift his hands as well and finally break free of his prison. The golem quickly switches its attention to him, its defenses able to not only withstand Jotaro’s punches but also your quick swipes at the same time. You both realize this head-on approach won’t be getting you anywhere.

The man and his golem stand before you, blocking your path to the alley where the real Kakyoin had disappeared into. There’s been no sign of the red wolf since this encounter began and you don’t want to think about why he hasn’t re-appeared. You catch Jotaro eyeing the alley as well before he switches focus to the mud trails on the ground from where the creature has been shedding muck and grime.

Taking a closer look at the mud you realize it’s still moving even though it’s detached from the golem. It creeps slowly along the concrete, but the further away from its main body it gets the slower it moves, struggling to inch itself forward. The golem takes a few shambling steps towards you and you’re caught off guard when Jotaro grabs your arm to start running in the opposite direction.

“Jotaro! What are- We can’t just leave him!” You try to pull your arm from his grip, unwilling to abandon your packmate. Your eyes widen as he growls at you in warning and you growl right back, struggling to keep pace with his long strides so you’re not literally dragged behind him.

“We’re not…” He pants as he pulls you into the next alley, “We have to circle around for him. That golem’s defenses…” He lets go of your arm now that you seem to be following willingly, listening to his plan. “There was no way we’d be able to push through it, but if we can get it to chase us…”

You risk a look behind you as you hear footsteps pursuing you. The golem is surprisingly fast but it seems to be losing mass as it continues to leave trails of mud in its wake. Pain pulses from your hand again and you look down to see the mud left on your sleeve has made contact with your skin. The glob of mud seems to pulse and grow before you finally fling it off, and it takes a chunk of skin with it. Jotaro glances back at your hiss of pain and you both see the glob rush back to the creature trailing you.

You realize other discarded splotches are also racing out of dumpsters and discarded trash bags back to the golem, regaining enough mess to re-form the hand you had cut off. As long as this golem was able to feed off it’s surrounding you were going to be at a disadvantage. You turn another corner and this time you are the one dragging Jotaro along and stopping him in the middle of the empty alley.

“If it can’t eat, it can’t regenerate.” You huff as you regain your breath and explain to silence his growls of protest. You take an offensive stance and turn back to where you had just come from. “This alley, is going to have to be where we take our stand. Nothing else in here but us.” You gesture to the barren surroundings, no organic trash in sight.

The creature and its master round the corner, the human man panting as he braces his hands on his knees and bends over. The golem is barely recognizable as human now, mud pooling at its feet and spreading out to look for a food source. You’re momentarily relieved at its change of appearance, you’re not sure if it was your enemy’s intent or just dumb luck that the illusion of fighting one of your own pack would rile you up so bad.

“You finally decided to stop running away like frightened children?” the mans says between deep breaths, still recovering from the chase. “No matter, you’re still gonna loose and I’m still gonna be rich.” He takes a few steps forward and points at both of you as he shouts, “Now stay still and die!”

You and Jotaro brace yourselves, but the half-melted golem stands still. It turns its faceless head towards its master and slogs towards him. “What are- GO! Them! They’re your target!” The man yells. He tries to take a step back but mud encasing his shoes keeps him rooted as it did to Jotaro earlier.

More and more mud pours from the creature, pooling out and eating up every speck of organic matter around it. Gum, trash, bugs- all consumed by the golem, but it is not enough. You and Jotaro take another step back as it turns to you again. The golem must have used up too much energy, or just lost too much mud to function according to its master’s will, and now needed to restore that loss before it could carry out its orders.

You watch, horrified as it turns back and steps towards its master, the nearest organic object. The mud around his legs keeps him trapped as he tries issuing commands, but nothing he says is slowing the golem’s progress. Melting arms latch onto his shoulder and face as he’s pulled into a parody of a hug by the creature. His head slams into the chest of the golem and you fight the urge to cover your ears from the screams as his mass is assimilated into the mud. The golem grows larger and larger as it absorbs him and by the time it’s done the creature stands at least 8 feet tall.

Your blood feels like ice in your veins as it turns its attention back to you and Jotaro, its hunger satiated for the moment and ready to carry out its master’s last orders. You remember how to breathe again as Jotaro growls at the advancing golem and takes a step closer to your side. You have to consciously loosen your muscles from their locked positions as you prepare for the fight as well. You both shuffle backward a foot or two as it towers over you ever closer.

You swear you feel your teeth rattle as each heavy footstep makes contact with the ground. It stretches its arms towards you, mud pouring off of it like a waterfall. Two steps forward are all it can manage before falling to its knees, its torso quickly melting and loosing mass. You manage to pull Jotaro back by his coat quick enough to avoid the splash of muck from where the creature falls, its body not able to sustain itself with the loss of its master.

You both stare at the mud puddle slowly seeping along the pavement, but this time the only movement is from the natural pull of gravity. A few seconds more assured you the ordeal was over, not even a bubble emerging from the sludge. Jotaro lets out a long sigh from beside you and you feel your shoulders drop in relief as well. You scan each other for injuries, but besides the already healing mark on you hand the only casualty is your now muddy clothes.

Quickly making your way out of the alley, you circle back to where you last saw Kakyoin. You’re doubly relieved as you turn the corner at a sprint to see him shaking off dried mud from his clothes. Jotaro reaches him first, taking him by the shoulders as he inspects the beta male for any injuries. Besides a few marks on his hands and neck where the mud was in direct contact, he is also unharmed and you do your best to help remove the remaining dirt.

Jotaro still hasn’t released Kakyoin from his hold on the red wolf’s shoulders and is startled when Kakyoin addresses him. “I’m fine Jotaro, already healing from… whatever that thing was.”

“Golem,” is Jotaro’s stilted answer before he clears his throat and tries again. “It was a golem. The master was one of Dio’s minions.” He finally releases Kakyoin from his grip and brushes some dirt for the redhead’s shoulders.

“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.” Kakyoin says as he follows Jotaro out of the alley to the main street. You run ahead and pick up Kakyoin’s discarded bag as he asks, “That was a remarkably fast victory for you though? How did you defeat it?”

“We didn’t.” Kakyoin’s eyes go wide and he starts looking around for danger at Jotaro’s statement while you laugh before explaining what happened.

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Author's Note: Hi readers! this chapter comes with a bonus art-treat for you all! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, let me know what you all think- I'm dying to talk about this with people.

No One Lives Forever- CH18

(AO3 link)

Stardust Crusader Wolf Pack AU

[From the beginning- CH1]

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Although the brief encounter with the golem has left your trio rattled, you were practically on the hunter’s doorstep so it was decided to go ahead with the plan to investigate. The two blocks to your destination seem to drag on forever, all three of you hyper aware of your surroundings. You and Kakyoin walk side by side down the sidewalks, Jotaro behind you; unwilling to let either of you out of his sight.

Any time another pedestrian strayed too close or moved too quickly near your little group would have Jotaro growling quietly, his instincts to protect and defend in overdrive. As subtly as you could you reached your hand back to grab onto his sleeve but glance back worriedly when he evades your touch. Instead, he opts to grab onto your hand and you have to position yourself slightly behind Kakyoin as you walk to accommodate his hold on you.

You see the red wolf eye your hands and smirk but he says nothing as you proceed up the stairs to the apartment building.

To say that the building security was lax would imply that they had any security measures in place to comment on. You are able to walk into the main entrance and up the main stairs without encountering any resistance. The three of you loiter for a moment outside the hunter’s door, listening for any movement coming from inside. No sounds or odd smells seemed to be coming from the apartment and you raise an eyebrow at the small pouch Kakyoin produces from his bag. He just grins and shrugs as he pulls out the lockpick gun.

The lock clicks open within seconds and you all quickly make your way into the studio apartment. You let out a sigh of relief at finding the small space empty – almost literally empty besides a mattress on the floor and some overturned milk crates acting as furniture. Clothes are scattered everywhere and you can tell by the smell most are dirty.

There’s no sign of roommates or a significant other, more importantly you can’t detect any odd smells like the smell of magic you had scented on the golem master. The three of you had been prepared to toss the place to find anything that may lead you to your enemy, but with how barren the apartment is you suspect the enemy you encountered on the way here would have been a better source of information.

Jotaro lets out a frustrated grunt as he empties out the slim accordion folder he found in the closet. The only things inside are a birth certificate and an out-of-date phone bill. Jotaro sigs before turning to you and Kakyoin. “This is pointless. We should pick up my car and get back to the apartment.” You both nod and quickly exit, Kakyoin re-locking the door as you leave.

Jotaro takes over the roll of navigator as you emerge onto the street again and inputs your new destination into his phone. You take up the same formation you used on the way here, Kakyoin slightly in front to your right and Jotaro behind you both, though he’s calmed enough to not need the comfort of physically holding onto either of you as you walk. The brief subway ride to the parking garage has you hyper aware of every passenger- every stranger packed into the narrow tube with you, but despite your paranoia you arrive at the parking garage without incident.

“So you live around here? It seems like a nice neighborhood.” You ask as Jotaro leads you to a sleek black BMW.

Jotaro nods as he unlocks the car, “Just around the corner. Gramps and I live in the same building.” You nod as you slide into the back seat, Kakyoin taking shotgun.

“It helps that JoStar Realty owns that building as well.” Your eyebrows raise in surprise, you had kind of forgotten the fact that Joseph’s business owned entire buildings, not just the apartment that had become your group’s headquarters. “Should we stop by and grab anything while we’re here?” Kakyoin suggests as Jotaro starts the car and pulls out of the parking space.

Jotaro hums as he considered the idea, “I’m not sure we should. We’ve already encountered one assassin today. I don’t want to risk another one.” Kakyoin nods and doesn’t question further. “We’ll report back tot the rest of the pack what happened. We’ll get in contact with Polnareff and Lucky too, they might have found something at the other locations.”

The journey back to the apartment is blessedly uneventful, and you keep a look out for any suspicious people or vehicles while Kakyoin texts the pack that you’ve had an encounter, but are all safe and on the way back now. You laugh when the caller ID on the car’s touchscreen almost immediately shows an incoming call from ‘Jiji’ and you catch Jotaro’s exasperated expression in the rearview mirror as he answers. Joseph only calms down when all three of you sound off that you were fine and assure him you are on your way back now.

Before you know it, you’ve arrived back at the apartment. Joseph and Caesar are already back from their errand and fuss over the three of you for a few moments. Once the older alphas are appeased, all five of you take a seat at the dining table. Avdol has responded to the group text that he and Donna are on their way back as well, and will keep an eye out for suspicious characters.

Jotaro recounts the fight with the golem and its master to the older men and you furrow your brow as you rub the red mark that remains on your hand from the attack. Something is nagging you about what the man had said.

“He was going on about how Dio was going to make him rich for killing us so…” Jotaro pauses as you interrupt him.

“No, that’s not what he said though,” all eyes turn to you and you steel your nerves to continue, “He said Dio ‘would pay for our flesh’. Saying something that specific- I think there’s more to it than just being out to kill us.” Joseph and Caesar both go pale at this new information.

“Kakyoin,” Joseph sets his attention on the redhead, “when you were incapacitated, what exactly happened?”

“Well, I had chased the thief- the golem master- around the corner to an alley. I didn’t see anything off at first but that mud creature appeared out of nowhere and slammed me into the wall. Once I was stuck it morphed to look like me and they both left.” Joseph’s brow furrows as he listens to Kakyoin recall the events.

Caesar is the next one to break the tense silence, “It didn’t harm you otherwise? Not to knock you out or keep you quiet?”

Kakyoin shakes his head and his hand ghosts over his mouth where the faintest of red splotches remain on his skin, “No, it did cover my mouth, but not my nose so it wasn’t trying to suffocate me.”

“He also said something about ‘delivering the best parts’ but…” You’re interrupted by Jotaro finishing the quote.

Polnareff cuts him off as he rips the documents from Avdol’s hands, “Oh, now you are an expert in what I need to do. How could I go against the all knowing advice of a fortune teller? Oh wait, that’s not

Caesar’s face is grim as he nods and explains, “It’s too much to be a coincidence, I think. When we were young,” he waves a hand between himself and Joseph, “I’m sure Joseph has told you some tall tales about the creatures we fought – the Proto-Fae.” Jotaro’s eyes narrow as he nods, trying to figure out where Caesar is going with this information. “Well, part of what they were doing, it wasn’t just the Proto-Fae we had to fight against. They had gathered a following of other creatures and Fae to their side.”

“Unfortunately for a lot of the poor bastards, they didn’t realize what their masters were really up to. You see, they were incredibly powerful creatures, in fact most supernatural creatures today are descendants of the Proto-Fae.” Joseph folds his hands and puts his elbows on the table as he explains. “It’s why we share some traits with other creatures, like both vampires and werewolves are allergic to silver. Or why other creatures are able to shapeshift as well.”

Caesar picks up the tale again from Joseph, “We know Dio has gathered followers like the Proto-Fae did, but… that may not be the only similarity between them.” Joseph’s expression becomes enraged and he grips his own hands tighter as Caesar continues. “For all their tremendous powers they had tremendous appetites to go with them. They would... eat their own followers in order to keep up their strength.”

You feel your breath freeze in your chest and a pit settle in your gut at what Caesar is implying. “You can’t be serious.” Kakyoin states, looking aghast as Joseph nods and speaks.

“Looking at the evidence we have, hunters with gear for kidnapping wolves, attacks from all sorts of supernatural creatures and this most recent attack.” Joseph growls as he slams his fists on the table, “The bastard! He must know about the Proto-Fae and how they gained their power! If he intends to continue…”

“We have to prepare for the worst.” Caesar cuts Joseph off and puts a hand on his shoulder, but you can tell the blond is not faring much better at the prospect of facing another being as cruel as the Proto-Fae from their past.

The conversation is interrupted by the sound of a key turning the lock to the front door. Avdol and Donna enter, arms laden with grocery bags and a large wicker basket cradled in Avdol’s left arm. You and Kakyoin step away from the table and you have to flex your fingers to get rid of the stiffness from keeping your fists clenched so hard during the discussion.

It takes almost no time to put everything away and you hesitate to go back to your seat at the table to continue the conversation with the older alphas. There is a tremor in your hands and you feel your heart rate spike as Donna links arms with you and leads the way back. You’re not sure you’re ready to face the possibilities of what your fate could have been. Just thinking back to that day in the woods, if you had been run off the road anywhere else, if you hadn’t made the decision to run in the direction you did…

“Y/N.” you open your eyes and are startled to see Jotaro’s eyes so close to yours. When had you sat down? Or closed your eyes for that matter? You’re sitting next to the dark-haired alpha and he’s gripping your forearm in a comforting squeeze. The room has gone quiet and you glance around as you get your breathing under control.

Donna is about to ask what is going on but is stopped by Caesar’s hand on her shoulder and a quick shake of his head. You catch his understanding gaze before a hand on your own shoulder distracts you. You look up from your seat to Kakyoin, who gives you a small smile and a nod before he takes his seat to your left. Avdol puts his hand on your head and ruffles your hair a bit as he passes your seat, your pack providing physical touch and comfort to sow their support. You’re here, safe and with friends. A pack that is willing to defend and protect each other, including you.

Jotaro leans back to give you some space now that you’ve calmed down, and although he removes his hand from your arm he immediately moves to hold onto your knee as he turns back to the table. “Let’s not speculate on what Dio could be doing for now. Gramps,” all eyes turn to Joseph as he sits up straighter in his seat, “what else do you know about our family history with Dio?”

Poor Donna still looks confused and you catch her eye and mouth the word ‘later’ to her from across the table. She nods and focuses back on Joseph as he begins to explain. “Well, its all just hearsay from what my granny told me growing up. Dio was adopted into the Joestar family when he was a abandoned by his father. She was always suspicious though, that he wasn’t human. Weird things used to happen, like he could convince people of things, though she never caught him in an outright lie.” Joseph crosses his arms against his chest and looks down in thought, trying to recall the stories from his youth.

“It all came to a head one night when there was a fire at the manor. Granny didn’t have too many details about what happened afterward, but my grandfather went after Dio as the cause. In the end it was pretty much confirmed Dio was of Fae blood- a changeling.” By the end of Joseph’s exposition Caesar is still as a statue, sharp green eyes focused on his long-time friend.

“Did your granny have any evidence he was Fae though? He could have been some sort of magician?” the blond alpha questions.

Joseph shakes his head at Caesar’s question but doesn’t elaborate as he continues to try and think back to his grandmother’s descriptions. Avdol clears his throat and addresses the question instead. “There may not be definitive proof that he is of Fae blood, but based on Polnareff’s description of his encounter with Dio, I feel confident the stories from the late Mrs. Joestar are true. Bing able to manipulate another supernatural creation like a werewolf, it would be beyond what a normal magician or sorcerer would be able to do.”

Jotaro nods at Avdol “We’ll have to go forward with the assumption that whatever Dio really is, he will be capable of powerful magic.”

Avdol looks pensive for a moment and you catch his gaze on you before he steels himself to continue. “I think I understand now what you were talking about before we arrived. I don’t mean to be insensitive but we really should discuss the possibility of dark magic being used.”

Jotaro’s eyebrows furrow at the older wolf but you try and placate him, “Avdol is right. We have to discuss all the possibilities, even if they’re frightening. I can… if it gets to be too much, I can leave but it needs to be discussed.” You take a deep breath to prepare yourself and turn to Avdol, “We were discussing the possibility that, a reason that wolves are being taken alive could be… that Dio knows about how the Proto-Fae gained power… by eating other creatures.” By the end of your summary, you can feel every hair on your body stand on end and Jotaro’s hand on your knee squeeze gently to get you to stop bouncing your leg.

You hear a faint gasp from Donna but keep your eyes trained on Avdol as he contemplates the new information. Although his eyes widen in surprise, he quickly composes himself and raises his hand to his chin as he thinks it over. “Although I am not a practitioner, I have come across a few dark magic descriptions on how power and energy can be taken from an… unwilling supplier.” Avdol’s brows furrow and his mouth is set in a grim line as he explains. “It is usually referred to as ‘draining’ or ‘consuming’ the magic, I fear these terms may be more literal than I originally gave them credit for.”

You nearly jump out of your seat in surprise at the strangled gasp from behind you. You’d been so focused on Avdol that you hadn’t heard Polnareff and Lucky quietly slip through the front door. Polnareff’s bag drops to the floor by his feet as he clenches his eyes shut and runs his hand though his hair and tugs harshly. Memories of the news articles you saw about the small Canadian town flash in your mind and you can’t imagine having to suddenly relive that sort of trauma.

“I knew… Dammit, I was right there and I did nothing!” You hold still as you see Polnareff’s body shift with barely controlled power. “Of course, the only information he would have would be because he was responsible for the massacre!” Polnareff shouts and rips his hand from his head, silver strands falling to the floor. “And I did nothing to avenge them. And now it repeats.” A few tears leak from Polnareff’s eyes and your heart surges at the sight of your packmate so upset.

Jotaro rises from his seat at the table and approaches the silver wolf. “We won’t let it happen again Polnareff. We are going to stop him, no matter what he’s up to.” Jotaro’s words seem to spark a determination in Polnareff as he growls but nods to the alpha.

“You’re right Jotaro, but we have to act now. Right now! No more waiting around for clues and information to come to us… we need to hunt him down this minute. Every moment we wait is a moment wasted.” Polnareff backs away from the group as Avdol stands as well and makes his way over.

“And where would we go Polnareff? With too little planning we make it easy to fall into one of their traps. We aren’t facing only one opponent in this situation.” Polnareff’s eyes widen and he hastily reaches for his bag at his feet. He fumbles with the contents for a moment before pulling a few papers and a journal out.

“The hunters! We found where they were planning to rendezvous and make the exchange with Dio’s direct reports. If we leave now, we can be there by nightfall!” Polnareff’s excitement unfortunately doesn’t seem to be contagious as Jotaro and Avdol take the papers from him and leaf through them.

Avdol is the first to speak again, shaking his head. “Even if they previously planned to meet here, we can’t be sure it’s safe. If we rush in too boldly, we only make ourselves targets.”

Polnareff growls loudly in response, “You’ve become too cautious with your age, Avdol. Mabey you don’t understand, or care, but lives are on the line here! I must have revenge for my family- and the others that have been sacrificed to this monster!”

“You think that I don’t care about the lives lost to this madman?” Avdol shouts back and your hair stands on end again from the tense energy in the room, all you can do is wait and watch the explosion unfold. Avdol continues with a growl, “You are the blind one here Polnareff, your need for vengeance clouds your judgement. Of course, I care for the innocents involved in this, but we need to do our best to protect ourselves, not add our own lives to the casualties. You need to consider…”

Polnareff cuts him off as he rips the documents from Avdol’s hands, “Oh, now you are an expert in what I need to do. How could I go against the all knowing advise of a fortune teller? Oh wait, that’s not your ability, is it?” Joseph growls in Avdol’s defense and Polnareff surveys the room of angry and tense faces. “Fine, I see how it is…”

“Polnareff, wait. You can’t…” Lucky puts his hand out to reach for the silver haired man’s shoulder, but is cut off by a sharp slap to his hand and a growl. Polnareff says nothing more as he marches out the front door.

<Previous Chapter    Next Chapter>

Author's Note:

Long time no see! Sorry it's been so long since I've updated, turns out my love of video games will supersede my ability to write until I get it out of my system. The addiction is real y'all. Anyway, let me know what you think!

Foxey Lady (F/M, tickling, fur, JoJo's)

I finally finished this story based on JoJo's Bizarre Adventure.

I want to thank Goddess Youko for letting me use her for this story. This story is dedicated as a tribute to her.

Some of you might not know what a "Stand" is. They are manifestations of their users' fighting spirits. They can interact with people, but people cannot interact with them. Only other Stand users can see Stands. They are invisible to regular people.

The protagonist is Jean Pierre Polnareff and his Stand Silver Chariot.

This is Youko's Stand. She is called Foxey Lady, as in the Jimi Hendrix song. I am aware the name is already in use in Steel Ball Run, the seventh part of the series. However this name was too perfect to pass up, not to mention this takes place in the original universe. You'll get to learn what she's capable of in the story ;).

Jean Pierre Polnareff, the silver-haired Frenchman, breathed in the warm, tropical air of Singapore. Fresh off his victory against the sinister Devo the Cursed and his treacherous Ebony Devil, the fierce wielder of Silver Chariot felt a rare moment of peace. His tense muscles finally relaxed as the vibrant city buzzed with life around him. The dazzling skyline of Singapore beckoned him to indulge in its nightlife—a well-deserved break after the intensity of battle.

After informing Mr. Joestar of his plans, Polnareff was pleasantly surprised when Noriaki Kakyoin, ever the enigmatic companion, expressed interest in joining him. The two shared a knowing smile. Beneath the calm surface of their friendship lay the shared weight of the journey they'd undertaken not so long ago, but tonight, they intended to let that burden slip away—at least for a little while.

As they made their way through the neon-lit streets, Polnareff’s mind wandered, the sounds and smells of the city creating a welcome distraction from the battles yet to come. “Here, Kakyoin! Look at all these food stalls!” Polnareff beckoned, feeling his hunger grow by the second.

Kakyoin, calm and composed as always, crossed over from the other side of the street with a slight smile. “Singapore is renowned for its food culture, Polnareff,” he explained, a glint of appreciation in his voice. “To Singaporeans, food isn’t just sustenance—it's part of their heritage. A symbol of unity, diversity, and passion.”

Polnareff grinned widely, clearly less focused on the cultural insight and more on the endless variety of dishes before him. “Heritage or not, I’m ready to try everything!” He approached a nearby stall, seeing the food being cooked right in front of his very, famished, eyes. Wiggling his fingers, he reached for an unguarded meat skewer.

Kakyoin, a bit irritated, quickly slapped Polnareff’s hand before he could touch the savory treat. “Excuse him, mister. We’ll take two of those!” He informed the cook, lifting his index and ring finger up, signifying the order.

Polnareff rubbed the back of his hand, pouting slightly. “You didn’t have to hit me, you know. I’m just hungry!”

Kakyoin sighed, shaking his head but unable to suppress a small smirk. “It seems you’re always hungry, Polnareff. But some of us like to show a bit of restraint before digging in.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Polnareff dismissed with a chuckle, brushing off Kakyoin's scolding. Without a moment’s hesitation, he grabbed one of the skewers and took an exaggeratedly large bite, savoring the smoky, grilled flavor with a satisfied hum.

After finishing their meal, Polnareff stretched contentedly. “That was great! But now, I need a drink to wash it all down. How about we find somewhere a bit fancier, Kakyoin?”

Kakyoin smirked. “A change of pace? Fine by me.”

They made their way to a sleek, upscale bar nestled between towering skyscrapers, its polished glass exterior glowing with a soft, amber hue. Inside, the ambiance was refined, the air filled with smooth jazz, and the soft clink of crystal glasses. Polnareff’s eyes sparkled as he took in the luxurious décor—velvet booths, low-lit chandeliers, and bartenders expertly crafting cocktails behind a marble bar.

“Where’s the guy checking IDs?” Kakyoin asked, scratching his head as they entered.

Polnareff waved him off with a grin. “I don’t know. And I don’t care,” he replied, already eyeing the bar. “Don’t worry about pointless things, Kakyoin. This is a night to relax, not to play by the rules.”

Kakyoin shook his head but smiled at Polnareff’s carefree attitude. “Relaxing seems to be your specialty,” he muttered as they made their way inside.

Polnareff patted his friend in the back. “See? You’re getting the hang of it already.”

The duo approached the bar, and Polnareff ordered a whiskey on the rocks while Kakyoin opted for something a bit more refined—a cocktail with an exotic name neither of them could pronounce. The drinks arrived with a flourish, and Polnareff raised his glass in a toast.

“To battles won, and drinks well-earned,” he declared, clinking glasses with Kakyoin.

After a few sips, Kakyoin set his glass down and stepped back. “I think this is where we part ways for the night. I’ve got some things to take care of,” he said with a casual wave, but there was something in his tone that suggested he had more on his mind.

Polnareff raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Don’t go getting yourself into trouble, Kakyoin.”

Kakyoin smirked. “That’s your job, Polnareff.”

With that, Kakyoin turned and slipped out of the bar, leaving Polnareff to enjoy the evening on his own. As Polnareff nursed his drink, his eyes wandered around the bar, taking in the elegant patrons and the soft glow of the chandeliers.

As Polnareff took another sip, the seat next to him shifted, and he turned to find a striking woman slipping into the booth beside him. Her dark hair fell in soft waves, and she wore an elegant black dress. Finishing her ensemble was an enormous silver fox fur coat, cascading down her form and shimmering under the bar’s lowlights. Her presence was magnetic, commanding the room without effort.

“Enjoying your night?” she asked, her voice smooth and sultry. She was Japanese by the sound of it.

Polnareff, ever the charmer, flashed her a wide grin. “Even more now. Jean Pierre Polnareff, at your service.”

“Youko,” she introduced herself as her red lips curved into a smile as she glanced at him sideways. “Such flair, you’ve got,” she murmured, her fingers gently tracing the rim of her glass. “And what brings you to a place like this?”

Polnareff leaned back, clearly pleased with the attention. “Just enjoying a break from my travels. A bit of adventure, a bit of relaxation,” he said, trying to keep his composure.

She chuckled softly, her gaze steady. “Adventure, you say? It seems you have a knack for finding it, wherever you go.”

Polnareff’s interest piqued. “Oh? And what makes you say that?”

She adjusted her fur coat, its hairs wiggling in the air slightly as she set it back properly. Youko’s eyes twinkled with mystery. “Just a hunch. Sometimes, the most intriguing people have stories that go beyond what meets the eye.”

Polnareff saw a glimpse of skin as she adjusted her coat. Her shoulders were tattooed, one having flowers and butterflies and the other something scaly, resembling a snake or a dragon. He felt a flicker of caution from her words but couldn’t help but be drawn in. “You’ve got me curious. What kind of stories do you think I have?”

Her smile deepened, enigmatic. “The kind that might involve unexpected challenges…or perhaps encounters with interesting characters.”

Polnareff leaned forward, captivated. “Interesting characters, you say? I can certainly relate to that.” He gestured to the bustling bar around them. “Just look at this place—full of stories waiting to be uncovered.”

Youko tilted her head, considering him thoughtfully. “And yet, it seems you’re the most intriguing of them all. There’s a certain energy about you, Jean Pierre Polnareff. It’s hard to ignore.”

He chuckled, trying to play it cool despite his nervousness. “What can I say? I’m a man of many adventures.”

“You might say that,” she replied, her voice lowering slightly, drawing him in. “But every adventure has its shadows, doesn’t it? Challenges that test our limits.”

Polnareff nodded, a more serious note creeping into his tone. “True enough. But it’s how we face those challenges that define us.”

She leaned in closer, her eyes locked onto his, revealing a flicker of something deeper beneath her playful facade. “And what defines you, Polnareff?”

He hesitated, the weight of her question settling over him. “I like to think it’s a bit of everything. I’ve faced my share of darkness, but I always find a way to fight back.”

Youko’s expression hardened slightly, as if she recognized the exact meaning in his words. “A fighter, then. I admire that. It takes strength to stand tall against the odds.” She said, a hint of insincerity in her voice.

“Strength, courage, honor and a bit of luck,” he added with a wink, trying to lighten the mood. “What about you? What’s your story, Youko?”

She smiled, but there was a flicker of something shadowy in her gaze. “Ah, mine is still being written. Let’s just say I’ve had my share of unexpected turns as well. But tonight, I’m more interested in your chapter.” Youko’s attention sharpened, her demeanor shifting slightly. “Sometimes, the past has a way of catching up with us. Just be careful who you trust, Polnareff.”

His instincts kicked in, and he followed her gaze, the playful banter momentarily forgotten. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh no, not at all,” Youko said, her demeanor suddenly brightening. “Just a little intuition, that’s all. I’m the curious type, and sometimes curiosity can lead to exciting stories.”

Polnareff studied her, sensing the shift but still feeling a flicker of caution. “Exciting stories, huh? Is that your way of saying trouble might be on the horizon?”

“Not trouble, just… possibilities,” she replied with a playful grin. “Life is full of unexpected twists. Isn’t that what makes it thrilling?”

He couldn’t help but smile back, drawn in by her infectious energy. “You certainly have a way with words, Youko. But I’d prefer to avoid any actual trouble tonight.”

“Oh, come on! Sometimes a little trouble can lead to unforgettable experiences,” she teased, her eyes glinting with mischief. “You might even find it enlightening.”

Polnareff raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Enlightening, you say? What do you mean by that?”

Youko leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Let’s just say I have my own way of exploring those ‘unexpected twists.’ Some might even call it… a profession.”

“Profession?” Polnareff echoed, curious yet cautious.

“Yes,” she said with a sly smile. “I’m a dominatrix. I explore the boundaries of desire and challenge people to embrace their hidden sides.”

Polnareff blinked, processing her words. “Well, that’s certainly unexpected! You’re full of surprises, Youko.”

She laughed lightly, enjoying his reaction. “And you’re not the least bit intimidated?”

“I am, but also intrigued,” he admitted, the thrill of the night growing. “So, what kind of adventures do you have in mind?”

Youko leaned in, brushing Polnareff’s cheek with the sleeve of her fur coat. The soft hairs of silver fox fur caressed his skin, sending a shiver down his spine. He felt a rush of warmth and excitement at the intimate gesture, a spark igniting within him.

Youko saw him squirm slightly and chuckled to herself. “Do you like fur, Polnareff?”

His cheeks flushed, and he cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure. “Well, I can’t say I dislike it,” he admitted, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

Youko leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear. “There’s something enchanting about it, isn’t there? The softness, the feeling…” She brushed her sleeve against his cheek again, the fur gliding slowly, teasingly.

Polnareff felt his heart race, a mix of excitement and arousal bubbling within him. “It’s definitely… captivating,” he managed to reply, his voice a touch breathless.

“Tell me how it feels… How does the fur feel?” Youko asked, her eyes glinting with curiosity.

Polnareff swallowed, his pulse quickening. “It feels… incredibly soft,” he began, his voice steadying as he leaned into the moment. “Like a gentle caress against my skin. It’s warm, almost inviting. It almost tickles.”

Youko’s smile widened knowingly, her eyes squinting in mischief, almost looking triumphant. “Tickles, you say? Tell me more,” she urged, leaning in closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “How does it tickle?” The closeness of her presence sent a rush of warmth through Polnareff, and he felt a thrill at the intimacy of the moment.

He swallowed, trying to keep his composure while his heart raced. “It’s the way it brushes against my skin,” he began, his voice shaking slightly. “It’s light and teasing.” As he spoke, he could feel the electric tension between them, the air thick with unspoken possibilities. The warmth of her breath mingled with the softness of the fur as she let it trail along his arm, heightening his senses in a way that felt intoxicating.

“Would you say you’re ticklish, Polnareff?” she teased, her tone laced with curiosity, as if waiting for a cue. He could feel his cheeks flush as he contemplated the implications of her inquiry, wondering if this was her way of pushing boundaries, enticing him further into a realm of playful intimacy.

“Yes,” he admitted, the word slipping out with a mix of vulnerability and a hint of daring. There was something exhilarating about the admission, as if he was letting her in on a secret. The air between them thickened, charged with tension.

A smirk played on Youko’s lips. “Good.” But just as the thrill of their playful banter hung in the air, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. Without warning, a loud crash echoed through the bar as glass shattered, shards flying in every direction. The playful tension dissolved in an instant, replaced by a surge of adrenaline. The customers and bartenders quickly evacuated the venue, startled by the transpiring commotion.

Polnareff’s instincts kicked in, and he instinctively stepped back, his body tensing as he prepared for the unexpected. He could see Youko’s expression shift from playful seduction to fierce determination. She rose from her seat, adjusting her glimmering silver fur coat once again. 

A radiant glow enveloped her as a Stand materialized beside her, an imposing sight that commanded attention. It resembled a feminine figure, its tones a mesmerizing blend of dark and silver, shimmering as if woven from starlight. Around its arms and shoulders floated what looked like a long, thick, double-sided fur stole, its luxurious texture giving the Stand an air of elegance and danger.

“Meet Foxey Lady,” Youko announced, her voice imbued with pride and challenge. The Stand moved with a fluid grace, every gesture exuding predatory elegance, its presence both captivating and intimidating. Polnareff felt a rush of adrenaline, the atmosphere thickening with the weight of the impending confrontation.

“You’re a Stand user,” Polnareff stated, his voice steady despite the surge of adrenaline coursing through him. “What’s your Stand’s ability?” He focused on her, trying to read her intentions, but the playful glint in her eyes suggested she relished the mystery of her powers.

A mischievous smile danced on Youko’s lips as she regarded him, her confidence unwavering. “Let’s find out together, shall we?” The challenge hung in the air like a taut string, ready to snap at any moment. Foxey Lady moved with an almost hypnotic grace, its sleek form a testament to Youko’s own allure, and Polnareff felt a thrill of apprehension mixed with eagerness.

With a firm resolve, Polnareff summoned Silver Chariot, the familiar rush of power surging through him as the armored figure manifested by his side. Its gleaming blade caught the light, reflecting the intensity of the moment and igniting a fire within him. He felt the connection with his Stand, the bond forged through countless battles, ready to take on whatever challenges lay ahead.

“Silver Chariot!” Polnareff cried out, sending the knight-like Stand forward with a powerful thrust. The air crackled as Silver Chariot surged into action, its movements fluid and precise, darting toward Foxey Lady with the speed and grace of a skilled warrior.

Before he could realize, Foxey Lady launched the fur stole toward Silver Chariot, the strands weaving through the air like a serpent, aiming to ensnare Polnareff’s Stand. He slashed toward the fluffy accessory, but it evaded his attack with ease, twisting and gliding just out of reach. In a blink, Foxey Lady sprang forward, passing Silver Chariot’s right side, then snuck behind him in a blur of motion.

Suddenly, he felt an unexpected sensation as Foxey Lady began scribbling her nails into Silver Chariot’s armpits. Polnareff burst into laughter, unable to keep his composure amidst the sudden ticklish onslaught. The moment caught him off guard, and he realized that Youko had taken the battle in a direction he hadn’t anticipated. 

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! WHAT THE—” he exclaimed between fits of laughter, but his words were cut short by the sight of the fur stole flying toward his face. Before he could react, the soft stole coiled around his head, enveloping him in its plush embrace. The velvety texture teased his skin, and his laughter became muffled as the stole constricted slightly, obscuring his vision.

Polnareff's hands shot up instinctively, grasping at the fur with growing frustration. But his fingers passed through it as if it were smoke, unable to grab hold of anything solid. Panic flashed through his mind as he realized this was no ordinary fabric—it was a manifestation of Foxey Lady, a part of Youko’s Stand, and as such, he couldn’t physically interact with it. His inability to touch the Stand made him feel powerless, a sensation he rarely experienced.

“DAHAHAHAHAMN IHIHIHIT!” he cursed through his predicament, the sound barely audible beneath the thick stole. The tickling sensation continued to play havoc on his senses. His body still trembled with lingering laughter, but his mind was racing, desperate to find a way out of this trap. He couldn’t call Chariot back, alas he was under Foxey Lady’s ticklish barrage.

Youko’s voice cut through the haze, playful and taunting. “You seem to be in a bit of a bind, Polnareff,” she cooed, her words dripping with amusement. “How does it feel, being wrapped in such softness? Quite luxurious, isn’t it?”

Polnareff felt his knees buckling beneath him as the impossibly soft fur stole tightened its grip around his face. The plush fabric pressed closer, almost suffocating in its embrace, as if every fiber was designed to tease his senses and drain his strength. He could feel the fur stroking across his skin in waves—warm, soft, and maddeningly delicate.

“Give in, Polnareff,” Youko’s voice came, soft and insidious, weaving its way into his thoughts like the fur around his face. “There’s nothing more you can do.”

He fell to the floor in an exhausted crash, the impact jarring but not enough to snap him out of the daze clouding his mind. His vision blurred, the plush fur tightening around his face, making each breath a struggle. “No! No, I can’t lose here!” Polnareff screamed inwardly, desperate to fight against the encroaching darkness. He couldn’t let it end like this. Not smothered by some cursed, luxurious fur. Not humiliated by this seductive trickster.

Before he knew it, Polnareff fell into a deep, involuntary slumber, the overwhelming softness of the fur wrapping around him like a weighted blanket, pulling him down into unconsciousness. It was as if the very fur was seeping into his thoughts, wrapping itself not just around his body but his mind, draining his will to fight back.

Snap—Polnareff’s eyes shot open, his heart racing as he gasped for air. He blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of his surroundings. The familiar plush velvet of the bar was gone, replaced by a dimly lit bedroom that stirred an unsettling sense of familiarity within him. Confusion hit him like a wave as he sat up, glancing around.

"Where am I?" he muttered to himself, his voice feeling unusually strained. Instinctively, he brought a hand to his throat. "Whaaat!? Why is my voice so... squeaky!?" He yelped, a squeal escaping his lips, shocking him into silence. He jumped to his feet, darting his eyes around the room, searching for any clues that could explain his predicament.

It was a small room, furnished with floral bedding and lacy curtains. Polnareff's eyes finally locked onto a wall calendar. He squinted at the year printed in bold letters: 1982. His heart skipped a beat.

“I’m 18 again?!” Polnareff exclaimed, his voice still annoyingly higher-pitched than he remembered. Panic gripped him as fragments of a long-buried memory began to resurface. He knew this room. It belonged to his friend’s mother, a woman who had always treated him with a warmth that felt maternal. A shiver ran down his spine as he recalled what had happened before this bizarre twist of fate.

“But wait! If I’m here then that means…” Polnareff recollected, as he saw the bedroom door open.

Creak!

The door swung open, and in walked his friend’s mother, draped in a luxurious golden island fox fur coat that glowed under the soft light and swayed elegantly with her movements.. Her presence filled the room with an unexpected mix of warmth and authority, her heels clicking on the floor as she entered. Polnareff’s heart raced; he was caught in a moment he had hoped to forget.

“Jean Pierre! What a surprise to see you here,” she said, her voice disappointed yet teasing, and laced with that unmistakable maternal tone. “I didn’t expect to find you in my room, of all places.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she caught sight of the magazines strewn about, the very ones that had piqued his curiosity moments before.

Polnareff’s cheeks flushed crimson as he stammered, “I—I was just looking for something!” He knew full well he had been caught red-handed, and there was no escaping the consequences of his actions.

She closed the door behind her, the sound echoing ominously in the small room. “Oh really? You know it’s not polite to snoop, especially in a lady’s personal belongings,” she chided, stepping closer. The playful glint in her eyes made him feel dread. He knew exactly what this was.

Before he could react, she lunged toward him, her fingers wiggling with a teasing intent. “Let’s see if I can teach you a little lesson about respect!” 

She pinned him down on her bed, straddling him and her fingers finding his sides and beginning their relentless assault. “No! Not this again!” he gasped, laughter bursting forth uncontrollably. “HAHAHAHA! STOHOHOHOHOHOP! HAHAHAHA!”

She only laughed more, clearly enjoying his predicament. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she reached over to the nearby nightstand and picked up a pair of handcuffs. “How lucky I am that my husband is a police officer!” she mused, twirling the cuffs playfully.

Polnareff’s heart raced as he felt a rush of panic and embarrassment. He couldn’t resist as she clicked the handcuffs around his wrists, securing them above his head and around a pillar of the bedframe. The cold metal sent a shiver down his spine, making him acutely aware of his vulnerability.

“Now you’re really in trouble,” she teased, leaning down to meet his gaze, her face inches from his. “Let’s see how long you can last without begging for mercy!” Her fingers danced teasingly over his sides, reigniting the tickle torture.

The tickler’s fur coat cascaded around Polnareff’s legs, wrapping him in a soft, plush cocoon that heightened his sense of vulnerability. It felt as though he was ensnared in a fluffy trap, each strand of fur teasing his skin and adding to the sensation of helplessness. The combination of the intense tickling and the enveloping warmth of the coat sent shivers coursing through him, making it nearly impossible to focus.

“IS THIS? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FOXEY LADY’S ABILITY? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Polnareff screamed out, the realization hitting him amidst the whirlwind of laughter and sensations.

“That’s right,” Youko’s voice appeared suddenly, like an ethereal echo. “This is my Foxey Lady’s ability. It takes you into your most intense and excruciating memory of tickle torture and makes you experience it for as long as I desire.” Her words dripped with playful malice, a reminder of his helplessness.

Polnareff’s laughter intensified, desperate. “YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS! YOU’RE GOING TO KEEP ME HERE LIKE THIS? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” he gasped, struggling against the cuffs, but they held firm.

“Oh, but I can,” she replied, a teasing lilt in her tone. “And I intend to have my fun. You see, the magic of Foxey Lady is that it amplifies your sensations, making everything feel even more intense. Every tickle, every brush of fur—it’s all heightened. Isn’t it wonderful?”

“NO! HAHAHA! THIS IS TORTURE!” he cried out, laughter erupting uncontrollably as he squirmed beneath her playful onslaught. “YOU’RE JUST GOING TO KEEP ME HERE FOREVER?”

“I told you I’m a dominatrix, Polnareff,” she informed him, her voice smooth and dripping with confidence. “I utilize my Stand in my profession. It works on non-Stand users too; they just believe they’re hypnotized. I control every aspect of my Stand—how intense the tickling is, slight adjustments to memories, and how long the tickling lasts.”

His mind raced as he processed her words, a mix of disbelief and dread washing over him. “THIHIHIHIHIS IS INSANEHEHEHEHE!” he thought, the laughter spilling uncontrollably from his lips.

“Usually I stop in time with my submissives, but with you I’ll make an exception, darling.” Youko teased, adding to Polnareff’s dread. Her Stand materialized partially, glowing slightly over the figure of Polnareff’s tickle torturess. “I am going to keep tickling you as long as it takes. To stop your heart, that is…”

Polnareff’s blood ran cold at her chilling declaration.

“I am going to tickle you to death, darling.”

Panic surged through him, mixing with the laughter that threatened to spill out again. “NO! YOU CAN’T DO THIS! HAHAHAHA!” he gasped, desperation creeping into his voice as he squirmed against the bed.

“Oh, no, but I can, darling. DIO is paying me handsomely for this, my weak little tickle slave,” Youko replied, her voice dripping with mockery. “To think one of you is going to die to something as ridiculous as tickling. Isn’t it deliciously ironic?”

His heart raced as he processed her taunts, the gravity of the situation sinking in. “I WON’T LET THIS HAPPEN! HAHAHAHAHAHA! YOU WON’T GET AWAY WITH THIS!” Polnareff shouted, though the laughter spilled forth uncontrollably, betraying his resolve.

“Aww, darling,” she teased, her fingers expertly dancing over his sides, reigniting the relentless laughter that bubbled up from his core. “Every gasp, every plea, only fuels my desire to keep you right where you are—helpless and utterly at my mercy.”

Foxey Lady's fingers traveled up Polnareff’s sides, traveling up his sides towards his vulnerable armpits with ruthless precision. Her nails moved like a blur, skittering over his skin with untold speed, creating an barrage that felt like a sandstorm of relentless tickle torture. When Foxey Lady arrived at Polnareff’s armpits, she unleashed a flurry of tickling that sent him spiraling into fits of laughter.

“Tickle, tickle, Polnareff~” Youko teased, her voice playful and mocking, as if she were serenading him with his own helplessness. Each stroke of her Stand’s fingers sent electric signals of ticklishness throughout his body.

“SILVEHEHEHEHER CHARIOHOHOHOHOHOT!” Polnareff cried out, between gasps of laughter. He felt as if he had manifested his Stand, but it was nowhere to be seen. “WHAHAHAHAHAT? WHEHEHEHEHEHERE IS IT? WHEHEHEHERE IS CHARIOHOHOHOHOT!?”

“Oh, sweet Polnareff,” Youko cooed, her tone dripping with mock sympathy, “your Stand can’t help you now. Foxey Lady has you trapped in your own memories, where I hold all the power.” Foxey Lady leaned in closer, her breath warm against his ear, being a part of the stand. “Just let go. There’s nothing you can do but laugh. Tickle, tickle!”

The laughter poured out of him, a reaction he couldn’t suppress, his body betraying him to the soft, relentless tickling that consumed his senses. “I won’t give in! I’ll find a way out of this!” he thought desperately, even as the ticklish sensations clouded his mind.

Suddenly Foxey Lady stopped, as Polnareff saw the figure of his friend’s mom turn around, still straddling him. The fur of her coat brushed against his chest, soft, luxurious and teasing, obscuring his vision and heightening his helplessness. “Remember this, Polnareff? It’s really about to tickle, darling!” Youko exclaimed. As her Stand’s nails skittered along his suddenly vulnerable feet, he felt a fresh wave of laughter bubbling up inside him, pushing against the walls of his resolve.

“NO! HAHAHAHA! PLEASE, NOT AGAIN!” he gasped, laughter spilling from his lips as he writhed beneath her. The feeling was maddening—he was trapped in a world where laughter was both his punishment and his prison.

The soft golden fur brushed and teased against Polnareff’s face as he squirmed under the coat, covering him in a cocoon of warmth that felt both inviting and suffocating. The duality of comfort and torment was overwhelming, and he could feel the edges of his sanity blurring. In this moment, every tickle sent jolts of dread coursing through him, forcing him to confront not just the laughter but the memory of his own helplessness. He couldn’t escape, and the laughter continued to pour from him.

“Does it tickle, Polnareff? I can keep this up as long as I want,” Youko taunted, her voice oozing with evil delight. “You’re completely at my mercy. Just imagine how long I can prolong your laughter.” The playful menace in her voice only intensified the sensation, and he could feel the weight of her words pressing down on him like the plush fabric surrounding him.

Foxey Lady’s nails found their target, skimming over Polnareff’s ticklish arches with a relentless precision. The delicate yet ever-so-intense touch sent him into fits, his body reacting involuntarily as the sensations overwhelmed the nerves in his feet, spreading up his legs and throughout his whole body. Each skimming tickle was like millions of feathers, light yet insistent, dancing across his skin in a manner that felt both maddening and strangely intoxicating.

“Tickle, tickle, darling,” Youko purred, her voice a sultry tease that echoed in the plush cocoon surrounding him. “How does it feel to be so utterly at my spell?” Her Stand continued its exploration, fingers deftly weaving between his toes and tracing the sensitive contours of his feet. Polnareff squirmed beneath his tickler, laughter bursting forth uncontrollably as he tried to pull his feet away, but the restraints held him firm.

“I can only imagine how much it tickles, Polnareff,” Youko teased.. “Do you like the way her fur coat brushes against your face? Is it soft, teasing?” The words struck his psyche like a rapier, amplifying his embarrassment.

Foxey Lady’s fingers continued their relentless dance, the soft fur brushing against him creating a cocoon of overwhelming sensations. “Admit it, darling. You’re done, nothing to do, nowhere to go,” Youko purred, watching him squirm, enjoying the torment played across his features. Each giggle and squeal only seemed to encourage her, pushing her to prolong the ticklish torment that held him captive.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you finally succumb to the tickling,” Youko said, her voice dripping with a mix of amusement and sinister delight. “Just imagine it—seeing your life ebb away as you laugh your last laugh.”

Polnareff’s heart raced, a mixture of fear and exhilaration coursing through him. “YOU CAN’T! I WON’T LET IT END LIKE THIS! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” he shouted, though the desperation in his voice was undercut by another fit of uncontrollable laughter as Foxey Lady’s nails found a particularly sensitive on his soles.

“You can’t escape, my tickle slave,” she continued, reveling in his torment. “Each giggle brings you closer to the end. Just let go and embrace it. There’s nothing left but laughter now.” Her fingers danced with renewed fervor, drawing out every bit of resistance he had left.

“Think, Jean Pierre! Think!” he urged himself, struggling to clear the haze of laughter clouding his mind. “There’s got to be a weakness!” He could feel the tickling sensation overwhelming him, but amid the chaos, a flicker of determination sparked within.

“My Stand has no weakness, Polnareff,” Youko taunted, her voice laced with confidence as she continued her relentless assault. “Her ability is to exploit every inch of your vulnerability, and you’re far too caught up in your own laughter to even think of escape, I’m afraid.”

But in the depths of his mind, Polnareff was fighting back. “There has to be something!” he thought fiercely, gritting his teeth against the ticklish sensations that swarmed over him. “Even the strongest Stand has a limit.”

“Let go, Polnareff. Nothing you do can stop Foxey Lady. The tickling is so overwhelming. Can you feel your heart? The way your lungs ache?” Youko's voice was a seductive whisper, dripping with satisfaction as she pressed her advantage.

Polnareff’s heart raced, not just from laughter but from the determination within. “I won’t give in!” he shouted defiantly, though the words felt weak against the storm that bombarded him so ticklishly. Each touch of Foxey Lady's nails sent shockwaves through his body, making it hard to think clearly. He felt himself teetering on the edge, the line between surrender and defiance blurring with every passing moment.

“Do you think the demons in Hell are watching? Do you think they’re waiting for you? Do you think they’re going to keep tickling you forever and ever, never letting up?” Youko's voice dripped with mockery, each word laced with an enticing malice that only fueled his despair. “Imagine it, Polnareff. Being tickled forever, knowing you cannot die? That your reality is tickle torture… forever?”

He could almost picture the demons and succubi, cackling as they reveled in his helplessness, their sinister laughter mingling with his own. The very idea was maddening, and he felt the edges of his sanity fraying as the laughter spilled from his lips uncontrollably.

“Come on, Jean Pierre! You have faced worse than this!” he urged himself, his mind racing as he sought a way to turn the tide against the merciless tickling. “There has to be a way to break this cycle!”

Foxey Lady let up the tickling on Polnareff’s feet, granting him a brief moment of respite. The figure of his friend’s mom faded away completely, in her place, Foxey Lady materialized fully, her ethereal form shimmering with a seductive allure. The fur that had previously obstructed his vision no longer clouded his sight, allowing Polnareff to take in the full majesty of the Stand before him. He noticed that the fur stole that had accentuated her was no longer there.

“Actually, I feel like I’m getting impatient, Polnareff…” Youko mused, her tone playfully mocking as she surveyed him with a smirk. Polnareff's heart raced as he watched in horror as Foxey Lady transformed, sprouting two extra arms, making a total of six. The Stand’s presence intensified, each arm moving with an unsettling grace, fingers poised for a new wave of torment, wiggling menacingly.

“Tickle, tickle! Time to die!” Youko declared, her voice playful yet chilling. Polnareff's heart raced as the six arms of Foxey Lady advanced, fingers wiggling like a swarm of playful serpents, each one eager to find its target.

She struck with precision, her tickling fingers darting into his armpits, his sides, and his hips simultaneously. Polnareff erupted into a chorus of laughter, the sound echoing off the walls like a desperate plea for mercy. The sensation was overwhelming, each touch igniting a fire of ticklish agony that spread through his body, rendering him completely vulnerable.

“Is this really how you want to go out, Polnareff?” Youko taunted, her voice laced with mock sympathy as she watched him squirm. “Tickled to death, all while begging for it to stop?”

“NO! HAHAHA! NOT THERE!” he howled, squirming beneath the relentless tickling. Every stroke felt like a jolt of electricity, a reminder of his utter helplessness. The laughter poured out uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face as he writhed under the merciless onslaught.

“Give in, Polnareff! Just let it happen,” Youko taunted. “You’re only prolonging the inevitable.” The six arms moved with a terrifying efficiency, ensuring that there was no escape, no relief from the laughter that consumed him. The tickling was all encompassing, complete, overwhelming. It was the pure definition of tickle torture.

“Think! Why can I feel my Stand manifest? Where is Foxey Lady’s stole? There has to be something!” Polnareff shouted inwardly, desperately searching for a way to regain control. As the relentless tickling continued, he felt the familiar energy of Silver Chariot stirring within him, its presence reminding him that he still had power, even in this bizarre dreamscape.

Suddenly, the chaos of laughter and torment began to crystallize into clarity. He recalled how Foxey Lady’s fluffy fur stole had enveloped him earlier, a key component of her Stand's ability to trap him in this memory. If he could break the connection, perhaps he could turn the tide.

“She mentioned something about hypnosis…” Polnareff thought, a flicker of realization igniting in his mind. Then it clicked. It was all an illusion. “HAHAHAHAHAHA! YOU’RE DONE, YOUKO! YOUR STAND ABILITY IS HYPNOSIS! HAHAHAHAHA! IT’S PURELY VISUAL! AND THE THING KEEPING ME IN IT IS YOUR FUR STOLE!” he yelled, his laughter now infused with defiance rather than despair.

Youko's victorious attitude faltered for a moment, surprise flickering across her features as Polnareff's laughter turned from helplessness to determination. “What are you talking about?” she retorted, though a hint of uncertainty crept into her voice.

With renewed vigor, Polnareff focused on the fur wrapping around him, visualizing it as a barrier rather than a prison. “I can break this illusion!” he declared, channeling the energy of Silver Chariot. “HAHAHAhAHA! IHIHIHIHIT’S JUHUHUHUST A TRIHIHIHICK! I WON’T BE TRAPPED IN YOUR GAMES ANY LONGER!”

As he gathered his strength, he imagined Silver Chariot materializing, cutting through the fabric of the illusion with the same precision it wielded its blade. He could feel the connection between himself and his Stand strengthening, a tide of energy rising within him, ready to shatter the confines of Youko’s hypnotic grasp.

“SILVER CHAHAHAHAHARIOT! CUT THEHEHEHE STOLE AWAY!” he cried, his voice ringing with newfound determination. In that moment, he felt Silver Chariot respond, the familiar rush of power surging through him, igniting a fierce resolve that overshadowed the laughter.

With a swift, decisive motion, he envisioned Silver Chariot’s blade slicing through the illusions that bound him, severing the connection to Youko’s fur stole. The air around him shimmered, the fabric of the dreamscape rippling like a mirage.

Foxey Lady stopped dead in her tracks, staring blankly for a moment, her multiple arms frozen mid-motion. The atmosphere around them crackled with energy as Polnareff's command took effect. Then, in an explosive burst of ethereal light, Foxey Lady shattered into a cascade of shimmering particles, the remnants of the illusion scattering like autumn leaves caught in a gust of wind.

Polnareff rose to sit, scratching his head in a daze as the remnants of his bizarre experience lingered in his mind. The bar was a mess, shattered glasses and broken bottles littering the floor, evidence of the chaos that had unfolded. He glanced around, expecting to see Youko, but she was nowhere to be found. The air felt heavy with the aftermath of their confrontation, and the chatter of patrons resumed, oblivious to the battle that had just occurred.

“Where did she go?” Polnareff muttered to himself, his heart still racing. He felt a mix of relief and frustration; he had escaped her grasp.

Gathering himself, he stood up, carefully stepping over the debris scattered on the floor. As he made his way to the bar, he couldn’t help but replay the encounter in his mind—the way her Stand had toyed with him, the soft, teasing nature of Foxey Lady, and the chilling realization that he had nearly succumbed to her power.

“I need to be more vigilant,” he thought, determination solidifying within him. “But I trust she will not try any of us again, since the secrets of her Stand were so easily uncovered.”

Polnareff scanned the room, contemplating his next move. “I need to warn the others,” he thought, remembering the bond he shared with his friends. They needed to be prepared for whatever came next.

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~☆My General La Squadra Headcanons☆~

Part 1

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Ft: Risotto, Prosciutto, Pesci, Formaggio ~♡

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Risotto nero

◇ Other than Metallica, his favorite bands include Pierce The Veil, Iron Maiden, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Guns N Roses and Linkin Park.

◇ Despite what most people like to think about his personality outside of Passione, especially when it comes to strangers, he is surprisingly very tame. Although he is a very strict and often violent man, it's only with his enemies. As shown in the Doppio fight, he likes to take his time to analyze things; he's patient.

◇ With strangers, he has a more wholesome side. He sometimes gets nervous, dare i say shy when talking to either elderly people or women, mostly his age or of single digit age.

◇He fears he might end up scaring everyone away, sometimes. It's not everyday you see a 6'7 beast with black scleras and fiery red eyes. He tries his best to make his testosterone drowned voice less intimidating, often making his voice small.

"T-that'll be it, ma'am, thank you," He murmurs to the cashier, his back arched so he meets her level. Safe to say his face is red.

(90% of Jojo fans migrated from the Arcana Fandom so i hope you understand what im saying when i tell you to compare him a bit to Muriel)

◇ I don't care what anyone says, he is a huge sweet tooth. I'm sorry I'm stupid and I have a huge soft spot for gentle giants who love sweets and are a literal marshmallow deep down.

◇ Amazing father figure.

Prosciutto

♧ 28 years old.

♧ He is just as disappointment-filling as the Fandom portrays him to be.

♧ favorite bands include Red Hot Chili Peppers, Judas Priest, Kiss, and shamefully, Destiny's Child. He doesn't tell anyone about the last one, but he knows he memorizes 'Bills,Bills,Bills' like his own name and will accidentally hum it when it plays.

♧ However let's give him a little bit of credit. He's not cold with everybody, and most definitely not Pesci. Actually, if he ever was cold, it'd be 10x worse than we think.

♧ Deep down, he has a soft spot for everyone in the team. Especially since, unlike Pesci, as much as he's trying to be, are more stable and mature, they meet up to his 'qualifications' of good company. They don't cause him any trouble most of the time, grâce à two certain members of the hitman team.

♧ Is secretly lactose intolerant, but instead of actually admitting it, he comically dumps that personal hatred onto Pesci.

♧ Despite popular belief, he does not smoke. Cmon. When was the last time you saw a panel of him actually smoking? Is it for the old man aesthetic?🤨 In fact, he hates it. Will start a fight if someone puffs the smoke in his face.

♧ Outside of uniform, he dresses up semi-formal and often has a sweater around in case it got chilly. He owns a ton of Doc Martens and the velvet boots with that ugly mustard color.

♧ His favorite foods are savory ones. Enjoys salmon and steak greatly. Make them for him and you might just win his heart (that's a joke, no you won't)

Pesci

♤ 26 years old.

♤ No, he and Pros are not related.

♤ He has caffeine intolerance, but doesn't know it yet. Despite him knowing it makes his stomach upset, it never bothered him enough to actually ask about it, so he just ends up blaming himself for being too weak.

♤ His favorite bands are The Scorpions, Backstreet Boys, Elvis Presley and a few songs of Paul Ankha.

♤ Is best friends with bugs. He's tried to convince the team to help him make a terrarium for the ones he caught, but Formaggio saw a cicada on the floor and immediately booked it. Or...came back and killed the cicada, in a better sense.

♤ Over the course of later years, he's become more hostile and confident. Though, he still has trouble getting out of situations like having to be in charge of a certain job while the actual worker leaves to do something.

♤ Prefers soft foods. Is really fond of native dishes from a round the world, and enjoys going to diverse restaurants everytime he eats out.

♤ If DP didn't decide to do Pesci so wrong with that shit voice, I'd headcanon his voice to be that of Silco from Arcane.

♤ Style is very casual, he likes to match pinks and greens on smaller articles of clothing a lot.

♤ Owns about 100 Converses and a singular pair of winter boots he's had ever since entering the team.

Formaggio

☆ 24 years old.

☆ He's the Mista of the team. Very clearly. Very good looking, a definite ladies man but absolutely fucking dumb.

☆ His hair is a buzzcut. He's ginger and has freckles and moles everywhere on his body, all over his back, arms, legs , even his-

☆ His favorite musicians are Shakira, Black eyes Peas, Michael Jackson and Kiss. Very chill about his music, and cares more about vibes and being able to sing along easily than just the lyrics.

☆ Has a lowkey decent voice when he hums to his favorite song. Accidentally hit that one high note in Celine Dion's song at 7 am when getting ready, and it was the only clean note throughout his entire screaming session. He still got his ass beaten by Prosciutto.

☆ His style is FRESH fresh. Wears a lot of bracelets, has so many piercings including above his eyebrows. He's a big fan of subtle body modification. He wears anything and everything. Hawaiian shirts and baggy pants, short tees that he styles as crop tops with puffer jackets over them. He's really a vibe, has the best style out of everyone in the team.

☆ Loves anything sour. Will eat a lemon whole when he gets the chance.

☆ Very boyfriend material, he's very hyperactive but chill, shows a sense of responsibility with how he's taking care of his beloved cat, and is overall just a score to pull. Look at him he's so handsome ♡

《𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖉𝖘 𝖈𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖊𝖆𝖐𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖆 𝖘𝖔𝖑𝖉𝖎𝖊𝖗, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖊𝖆𝖗 𝖎𝖙 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖑𝖎𝖋𝖊》

picture edit by me! <3

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Somber and Solmen the night revealed itself to be. It was strange how he felt the darkness to come as soon as he stood up from the chair where the night's later events were planned. Although late time should have held a sort of ease and comfort, seeing as it isn't usual for the mafiosi to have a full free day set only for their pleasures, this single capo couldn't shake the heavy feeling of unexplainable dread off his chest. It made no sense, and yet, he expected it. He expected a moment where his paranoia would hold him captive. For the past ten years Risotto was so used to alway being on edge, never rewarded with the sweet release of reassurance. He could never be sure when a plan would go downhill, or when his men would deal fatal threat. Thus, so is the life of a capo. Unrewarding, and yet when the time miraculously comes, it's unfamiliar to the point of neverending fear and megalomania. It felt like tonight was just just enigma of what he'd wish to be a good moment. He knew that wouldn't be fully promised.

Step after step ahead to his office which he resides in, Risotto's head loops in on itself with infinity of questions. Would it make sense for fate to align so dramatically to form a path almost impossible? Or was he just too eaten up by this darkened life to the point of mental erosion?

Tonight was a night where he and his men would have to dress nicely for the first time in a long while. It was odd for him to search so deep within his closet. Some items would clearly need dusting or a good steam. Item after item, Risotto picked the only suit he has, with the shoes along with it. In a second, he has an idea as to why the night felt so wrong. He knew it. The night had promised itself to not leave this broken man without testing his fragile heart further. The sight of his older clothing sent his heartstrings collapsing in a second. It was this horrible memory that would haunt the rest of his week. He didn't even dare pick up the hoodie that once belonged to his late cousin. A shame it was that they were both too young to save themselves. An eveb bigger shame it wasn't Risotto inside that grave that would keep the mourners coming to cry hours on end for his lost, young soul. It would have been better. It would have been better than to live like this, with the shame of weakness and toxic strength that would remind him how accountable he's held for the incompetence of his proclaimed protection. This night wasn't ever going to try bettering itself for him. Not now, not in the next life. There was always a reason to make it worse.