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cophene · 13 hours

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035 || ☆ ⁺ « NOT KEEN TO BELIEVE.

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pairing : vento aureo x gn reader summary : with virtually nothing left in their credit account, a gang of space thieves turn to the richest man in the galaxy to give them a job worth millions. too bad those never come easy, even with stand abilities and pretty-faced crew notes : sci-fi au, multi-chapter fic, sfw, doesn’t follow canon plot word count : 3k+

★˚⋆ YOU WERE CONVINCED YOU’D HEARD Trish wrong because there was no way Prince Donatello himself was hailing your ship just minutes after you’d passed through Bend Gate I. You fuzzily remembered Coco Jumbo or someone warning you away from the Prince. Cautioning against his capricious personality. You didn’t have to be involved in Imperial politics to know about that.

You didn’t think you had anything to do with him, besides maybe stealing at a few of his ugly-ass boutiques. Imperials didn’t usually resort to exacting their own vengeance, though. Just what had you done to piss Prince Donatello off if he wanted to meet with your crew personally?

Was it possible that he also wanted the Stand Arrow?

Fat chance. He’s going to have to get in line behind Zero.

“Answer it,” you told Trish. “We shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

Trish accepted a comm. On the ship’s cracked main display, a different prince than the one expected came into view. It was Prince Rikiel, looking drawn and tired. His mouth tightened when he saw all of you.

“Is this Passione?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Bruno. “You wanted to speak with us?”

For whatever reason, Rikiel’s eyes darted toward Fugo. Well, Fugo’s body. He opened his mouth to say something, but not before someone clasped his shoulder and forced him out of the chair. Then Prince Donatello’s face came into view. He was dressed terribly, as always. A nude shirt under a bold-printed blue and orange jacket, no doubt of his own design too. He was confident, you would give him that.

“Passione, I command you to allow me passage onto your ship. Now.” Donatello was strangely abrupt. None of his usual swagger or arrogance. All business.

“What would the reason for that be, Your Highness?” Bruno asked evenly.

Donatello curled his lip. “You’re not entitled to know that.”

“On the contrary. This is my ship. I have a right to know why you want to get on it.” Bruno stuck his chin out. Did you really act that haughty? You weren’t embarrassed or anything, just damn.

“I suggest you don’t get difficult with me,” Donatello said. “I could have your ship confiscated and your entire crew executed in a few hours if I so pleased. Instead, I’m merely asking for permission to board your ship. You should count yourself lucky that I'm turning a blind eye against your numerous other crimes.”

“I don’t remember asking for your compassion. Why don’t you enlighten me as to the crime you are concerned about?”

Beside Bruno, Trish nudged him. You would’ve done the same. Bruno was taking your cavalier attitude a bit too far. You didn’t give a flack about authority, but you didn’t flaunt that in front of an Imperial Prince.

“Don’t act as though you don’t know,” Donatello gritted out. Spots of colour rose in his cheeks.

“Captain, you should end this comm,” JoJo said. “You shouldn’t listen to this anymore.”

“I don’t know,” Bruno said. “That’s why I’m asking.”

“Your impropriety is astounding, Captain.”

“So is your arrogance. Tell me why you want to board my ship. Your Highness.”

“Captain,” JoJo said urgently, pulling on Bruno’s sleeve. “End the comm. Please.”

Donatello made a visible effort to regain his composure. Meanwhile, Mista was stomping on Bruno’s foot under the console.

“As I said before, Captain, I could have your crew tried and executed for the various crimes you’ve committed against the Crown. However, I am choosing to be lenient and ask only this: allow my boarding on your ship so that I may retrieve Prince Giorno Giovanna and return him to the Imperial family.”

Bruno barked out a laugh. “Prince Giorno? I’m afraid you’re mistaken. He died in the Eos crash. What would he be doing on my ship? How would he have gotten on here at all?”

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Donatello’s gaze went directly to Narancia.

Except he didn’t know that it was Narancia. Donatello was only focused on JoJo.

“What?” you hissed under your breath, staring at him. You had to remind yourself not to look at his body but at Narancia.

Whose face had gone curiously blank. It was an expression wholly JoJo’s. Narancia had a terrible poker face.

“Prince Giorno managed to survive the Eos crash,” Donatello said, breaking the shocked silence of your crew. “Somehow, he managed to infiltrate your ship, and it seems without your knowledge. I don’t blame you. He’s always been cunning. You would’ve had to know him extremely well to notice at all, under that disguise.”

What the flack is happening? Narancia mouthed. He was trembling like a leaf.

“Is that all?” Bruno said. “You want Prince Giorno back?”

Donatello scoffed. “Yes. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all this time. Will that be a problem?”

Bruno bowed his head. “No. Please forgive me, Your Highness. You have my permission to board. We will be ready to receive you when you are.”

“I should expect so.” Donatello’s next words were directed at Narancia. “I hope you’re done with your charade, GioGio. Whatever you’ve been doing, it’s time for you to come home. We have many unfinished matters to deal with. Prepare yourself. We’ll be leaving promptly.”

Donatello ended the comm. It became deadly quiet.

Narancia brought his hands up to his face. “S-So … you’re telling me I’m in Prince Giorno’s body?”

“Is that true?” Bruno said, turning to JoJo. “Are you Prince Giorno Giovanna?”

“He couldn’t be,” Mista said. “He’s just some spacedust rat we picked up from Sale and Zucchero’s shop. He would’ve told us if he was the Prince. Why would he go on for this long trying to trick us otherwise?”

You thought back to when you’d first met JoJo. How you’d accepted him onto the crew when you’d known next to nothing about him. You’d always assumed he was just some shy, unfortunate kid who’d lost his family in a ship explosion.

But there had been moments when JoJo hadn’t seemed himself. When his shy demeanor would slip and reveal someone stronger, more direct underneath.

Everytime something happened, JoJo had an explanation for it. His healing Stand ability. His bet with Pericolo. His unflappable calm. His simple resoluteness. Sometimes he wouldn’t act like a scared space rat but more like …

A prince.

“Prince Donatello called him GioGio,” Fugo said, leaning against the console. His face was hard. “As in Giorno Giovanna. I think that’s all the proof we need.”

“But how could that be?” Trish said. “The Prince died. That’s the official report. And JoJo …” She looked at him, her eyebrows drawing together. “I mean, he’s nothing like the Prince at all.”

“How would you know that?” Abbacchio said.

“I met him face-to-face before I joined the crew,” Trish said, still staring at JoJo. “I would know if it were the Prince.”

Technically speaking, both you and Mista had also encountered Prince Giorno. But that had been before he’d been recognized, when he’d just been a scared kid being transported. But it was true what Trish was saying. JoJo and Prince Giorno couldn’t have been more different.

“I think you should ask him yourself,” Polnareff said, sounding mystified. “JoJo. Are you, or are you not Prince Giorno?”

JoJo sighed. He took a moment to collect his thoughts, then looked up at you. And even though he was in Narancia’s body, you could tell he was different. The emotions shifting across his face made Narancia’s face seem alien.

“Donatello wasn’t lying. I am Prince Giorno Giovanna. I didn’t die on the Eos. I’ve been using Passione as my cover for the past few weeks.”

And there it was. The confession that JoJo—Prince Giorno, had been lying to your crew this entire time. Even in Narancia’s voice, his voice pitched differently, the syllables and vowels hardening. The wide-eyed, innocent expression he wore morphed into something somber. Harder to read.

Narancia dropped down heavily at the console chair. Betrayal, shock, and confusion lanced through your chest.

“How?” you said.

“Facial pinger,” Prince Giorno answered. He tapped a spot below his jaw.

Gingerly, Narancia brought up his fingers to the spot. You watched, only just noticing the slight shift of Prince Giorno’s face, how they seemed to sharpen as though they hadn’t been in focus before. You wondered how it had ever escaped your notice. Even with a different hair colour and cut, it was unmistakably Prince Giorno.

The eye twitching. The scratching beneath the jaw. That had all been the facial pinger.

“You didn’t see it because you didn’t want to,” Giorno said. “The fact that you tended to brush me off made things easier.”

“Why would you do something like this?” Trish asked, her voice hushed. “You’re an Imperial Prince. There was no reason for you to hide your identity and go along with our plans.”

Mista groaned, pressing his palms into his eyes. “Oh, flack. I disrespected you so many times. I’m probably gonna be executed for treason.”

“We aimed a light into your eye and gagged you,” Narancia said. “We could’ve killed the Crown Prince.”

You would have offered up various other times you’d nearly killed Giorno, but it wasn’t as though Bruno would be aware of any of that. When you thought about it, you were mortified at the way you’d treated the Crown Prince. Stealing was one thing, but putting the life of an Imperial prince at risk?

“I don’t hold that against you,” Giorno said. “I understand everyone was under a lot of pressure. You still are. Being nice to someone you just met would’ve been the last thing on your minds.”

“Abbacchio, could we be killed for nearly killing an Imperial prince?” Narancia asked.

“Believe me when I say you would’ve already been killed for much less,” he replied.

“But you still haven’t explained why,” Trish said to Giorno.

“The Eos crash wasn’t an accident,” Giorno said plainly. “It was a deliberate attempt on my life. I was being targeted, and so I went into hiding. I’m assuming you know about my mission to purge drugs from the galaxy? That wasn’t my real mission. My real objective was the Stand Arrow—retrieving it and safeguarding it. It was just a coincidence that you happened to be after the same thing, hence why I stayed on with your crew.”

Bruno frowned. “You want the Stand Arrow?”

“Yeah, uh, good luck with that,” Mista cut in. “Sorry to break it to you, but we’re on a job for Zero, Your Highness. If you’re after the Arrow, we’re going to consider you an enemy, prince or not.”

JoJo clenched his jaw. “I can understand that. You have no loyalty to the Crown. At the end of the day, Zero is the one paying you, not me. That being said, if you’re willing to give me the Arrow, I can give you things Zero isn’t capable of. Imperial privileges.”

A collective twinge went through everyone’s chests.

Retrieve the Arrow and deliver it to Zero.

That is your objective.

Nothing else matters.

“No can do,” Narancia said. “Zero’s getting the Arrow. No one else.”

A shadow crossed over Fugo’s face. Abbacchio looked around at everyone, confused.

Giorno’s tone revealed nothing. “So be it. I can accept that. I suppose the fact that you’ve let me stay on this long is already too much to ask.” He looked down at the floor. “What I don’t understand is how Donatello managed to find my location. My appearance aside, I took great pains to wipe my identity. I destroyed my ident chip. I was completely off the grid. He never should’ve been able to find me.”

You had been wondering that too. By some instinct, your eyes found Fugo. You took in his tense jaw, his clenched fists. How he’d tried to warn you against accepting a new member.

He had been almost desperate, you remembered. He had never accepted JoJo.

For a moment, you forgot to pretend to be Bruno. “Fugo,” you said. “It was you. You knew the entire time.”

Fugo’s eyes flashed. You thought he would deny it. You wanted him to.

“Yes. I did know.”

“And you never told us?” Mista said sharply.

“I tried a few times to tell you. No one seemed keen to believe me, so I stopped bothering. You shouldn’t look so surprised,” he said, looking at JoJo. “You didn’t make it difficult. Like you said, it was only because we weren’t looking that we didn’t notice. You were constantly contradicting yourself. Someone without family would never willingly join a thieving crew unless they knew what they were getting into or had ulterior motives. You were always too willing. Too accepting. Of course, I knew you weren’t who you said you were.”

Giorno was unruffled. “But that doesn’t explain why Donatello knew to contact you.”

Fugo’s eyes flicked to Bruno. “I made a deal of my own. I was approached by Prince Rikiel. He was desperate to find you. We reached an agreement: I would keep an eye out for you. In the event that you really had died, I would give Rikiel the Stand Arrow, since he was aware you had been after it as well.”

“Hold on a second here,” Mista said. “You give the Stand Arrow? Since when do you have the authority for that, Fugo? We’re giving the Arrow to Zero. That’s that.”

“Why are you still fixated on that?” Fugo snapped. “We’ve always been flexible in our jobs. We don’t owe anything to anyone. We sell to the highest bidder, no matter who that is, and no matter what we agreed on. Rikiel was willing to pay us twice what Zero was. Not only that, he’s the safer option. I don’t know why we’re still falling on our asses to get to Zero!”

“Because we made an agreement with Zero, so we’re bound to follow it!” Mista snapped back as though it were obvious.

Fugo pushed an agitated hand through his hair. “I don’t know what’s going on with all of you. You’ve all been different, ever since we started on this job. You can ask Abbacchio, Bruno and Prince Giorno. You’re all being irrational and stupid. We either give the Arrow to Prince Giorno or Prince Rikiel. It shouldn’t even be a decision!”

“I agree with Fugo,” Abbacchio said quietly. “The Stand Arrow shouldn’t go to Zero.”

“He’s exceedingly dangerous,” Giorno added. “You’re wrong if you think he only deals in illegal sales and trade. He has overwhelming influence in all galactic matters, including Imperial ones. Whatever he’s planning with Arrow would be disastrous for the entire galaxy.”

“That’s none of our business,” Narancia scoffed. “He wants the Arrow, and he’s willing to pay us, so he gets it.”

Fugo shook his head, exasperated. Normally, your engineer brought up valid points that you would have at least paused to think about. But right now, he sounded ludicrous. He was the stupid, irrational one. The pulsing in your chest said as much.

Give the Arrow to Zero.

Don’t wait.

“Regardless of what we’re doing with the Arrow, it doesn’t change the fact that you betrayed the crew,” you said to Fugo.

“I was trying to look out for you!” Fugo cried. “You let a stranger onto the crew during a critical job who turned out to be the lost Crown Prince. We were putting ourselves at risk keeping him onboard. The sooner he got back to where he belonged, the better.”

“Except you’ve made things worse now,” Trish retorted. “Donatello isn’t going to take Prince Giorno. He’s going to take Narancia. He won’t understand if we try to explain about the soul swap. We’re going to lose our pilot while the real prince is still here.”

“I couldn’t have been expected to know that.”

“This situation puts Narancia in great danger,” Giorno said, and Narancia let out a squawk. “He has no idea how to act in an Imperial setting. He’ll be navigating intense confusion and turmoil. And there are more than a few people who are livid that I’m still alive, Donatello being at the top of that list. There’s a possibility he’ll be killed if he’s not careful.”

“Your Highness, I think the more pressing matter at the moment is the Stand Arrow,” Polnareff interrupted. “We need to decide who the Arrow is going to and how it’s going to get there. Chariot Requiem no longer has a user. We have no idea of what its abilities could extend to. We had the benefit of being the only people on the ship when its ability was activated. An untold number of people could be affected if it leaves the ship.”

“Not to mention that we still don’t know how to defeat it,” Abbacchio muttered.

You felt a headache nudging at your skull. Things had just gone to shit very quickly. Donatello was coming to get Giorno. Zero was coming to get the Stand Arrow. As it stood, neither of them were going to be able to get what they wanted.

“What do we do, Captain?” Narancia said, and you nearly yelled at him. How the flack were you supposed to know? You were just as lost as he was. If you could curl up and just wait for this to pass, you would’ve.

Bruno blew out a breath. “How much time do we have before Prince Donatello gets here?”

“His ping said he was about twelve hours away,” Trish said.

“Alright. We can work with that.” Bruno rubbed his forehead. “I think we all need to take a step back. Try to get a bit of rest and think this through. We’ll meet back here in a few hours and try to think up a plan. Keep a feed on Chariot Requiem. It probably won’t do anything but we need to make sure it stays on the ship. We’ll keep an eye out for other pings from Prince Donatello or Zero. If you notice anything else happening, let me know right away.”

It was a simple plan, but it instantly made you feel better. Selfishly, a part of you was glad Bruno was in your body and assuming the role of Captain. You would’ve been too overwhelmed to say anything coherent. We were so close, you thought as everyone trickled out of the bridge. Why did things have to go to shit now?

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#kismetva #jjba #jjba x reader #jjba fanfic #golden wind #golden wind x reader #vento aureo #vento aureo x reader #gender neutral reader #sci fi au

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cophene · 3 days

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012 | strange new tourist.

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pairing : jojolion x gn reader summary : the heir to an limitless fortune goes on a vacation to morioh to find their true love. seems easy enough; only, if that they're unable to find their love, they'll lose not just their fortune, but their life. notes : multi-chapter fic, sfw, doesn’t follow canon plot word count : 2.4k+

★ . . . NOT FOR THE FIRST TIME, Yasuho went home only to find her mother passed out in front of a blaring TV, a bottle of alcohol leaking into the couch from where she’d knocked it over.

“Can’t you at least try to clean up after yourself?” Yasuho snapped, snatching up the bottle. She tried to blot at the couch with a kitchen towel.

“You’re finally home,” her mother mumbled. She tried to sit up. “Do you want dinner? There’s still some take-out in the fridge.”

Yasuho huffed. She took the towel to the sink to wring it out, crouching to check the alcohol cabinet.

“Mom, did you drink everything in here?! You still had four bottles left!”

“Why buy it if you’re not gonna drink it?” Yasuho’s mother slunk into the kitchen. “I’ll microwave your food for you.”

“I don’t want it. We’ve been eating takeout for the past week.”

“Then I can cook you something—”

“You can barely stand, Mom.” Yasuho threw the towel into the sink. She screwed her eyes shut, forcing herself to take a few deep breaths. “Just go to bed.”

“You’re always out,” her mother chided, poking her cheek. “You never come home.”

“Because I have classes.” Yasuho pushed her mother’s hand away. “Go to bed. I’ll be fine.”

Her mother frowned. Then she made a gagging noise. “I need to throw up.”

The sound of her mother’s retching forced Yasuho out of the house. She had talked to her mother about changing things, finding something her mother could be passionate about. Sometimes Yasuho thought she might be getting better, but then her mother would give in and they would switch roles; Yasuho cleaning up and fretting after her impulsive, oblivious mother.

Yasuho thought briefly of calling her father, but decided against it. Instead, she let the streets take her where they would, following one street lamp to the other. Eventually, her neighbourhood gave way to night insects and restless trees.

It had been a while since Yasuho had been to this playground. She’d gone all the time with her dad as a kid. The swings had been her favourite.

She bought a drink from one of the nearby vending machines, a can of sweet iced-tea. She was about to take a seat on one of the swings when she noticed someone already there. She would have left them alone if she hadn’t caught their face in profile, their mouth stiffly downturned. They held themselves so carefully, the way you did when you didn’t want yourself to fall apart.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Leave me the hell alone.”

Yasuho drew back. “That’s a little rude. I don’t even know who you are.”

They turned to look at her, and the intensity of their gaze made Yasuho’s breath catch. They hissed out a swear, scrubbing a hand over their face. Nonetheless, their red-rimmed eyes gave it away.

“Sorry. Just in a shit mood right now.”

“That’s fair.” Yasuho hesitated, then took the swing beside the stranger. She held out her drink. “Here. You look like you need it.”

They stared at the can, then took it. Silence settled between them. Yasuho studied the stranger from the corner of her eye. Their clothes were cute, as though they’d just gotten out from a date. Was that why they looked so miserable?

Yasuho gave herself a little kick to start swinging. “So what are you doing out here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I asked you first.”

“It’s kind of personal.”

“I can deal with that.”

The stranger drank from their can. “Have you ever done something for your family, but your family gets pissed at you, because they don’t understand what you’re doing?” they said haltingly. “They accuse you of being reckless and inconsiderate, when really, you’re putting everything on the line to keep them safe. And you can’t explain, because what’s the point when you’re already here and they’re already pissed? You’re trying so hard to do the right thing, but it’s even worse because you realize they don’t believe in you at all? So why are you trying so hard? Is it even worth it to protect them?”

Yasuho blinked. “I think if it wasn’t worth it, you would have given up by now.”

“Maybe. Or I’m just too stupid to know when to quit.” The stranger let a bone-deep sigh. They glanced at Yasuho sidelong. “So what are you doing here?”

“Nothing as existential as you. I just couldn’t stand it in my house.”

“Something happen?”

“My mom was drinking again. I just needed a place to breathe.”

“Sounds like we both don’t want to go home.” The stranger leapt off their swing. A few more minutes slipped by, the silence filled only by the swaying tree branches.

“Is there somewhere I could get something to eat but also drink myself into oblivion?” the stranger asked.

“I didn’t take you for the drinking type.”

“I’m on vacation. I have to drink.”

So they were a tourist. Yasuho got to her feet, smoothing down her skirt. “I’ll do you one better and take you there myself.”

Yasuho would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about the stranger. She’d tried to keep her questions low-key, but that turned out not to be necessary because a few glasses in and the stranger unspooled their entire life story.

L/N Y/N was the heir to a limitless fortune, or they would be, if they could find their true love. They weren’t here just for vacation, but to carry out their curse put on their family by the mountain gods. They had one month before their nineteenth birthday to find their true love in Morioh or their family fortune would disappear as easily as the mountain gods had bestowed it. The curse had to be the alcohol getting to their head, but Y/N’s tone went strangely serious when they talked about it.

Y/N went on to talk about their family and how self-absorbed they were. How Y/N had been living that same life because no one told them otherwise. Their face brightened when they talked about Karera, though. Their words were easy and light, but Yasuho caught an undercurrent of something else. They cared about Karera, and maybe not in the way they thought.

“We should get going,” Y/N said after their seventh glass. Yasuho eyed them, trying to judge how drunk they were.

“I’ll ask for the bill.”

“No, I’ve got it. Or didn’t you hear about my never-ending fortune?” Y/N raised their hand and a server brought over their bill a minute later. They slapped their card onto the pad and the server whisked it off. Yasuho raised an eyebrow. Heir to a fortune or not, she didn’t like how much that gesture reminded her of her mother.

“So any luck finding your true love?” she asked mildly.

Y/N groaned. “I don’t wanna think about it. I’m drinking to forget. It’s starting to feel like there’s no one in this town who could care about me.”

Yasuho wanted to say something but she didn’t know what. Y/N was flippant and a little blasé, sure. But there was something about them that Yasuho wanted to see more of. Something small and soft at the core of them.

The server came back with a sheepish expression. “I’m sorry, but your card was declined. Is there another way you could pay?”

Y/N squinted at him. “What do you mean?”

The server handed the card back. “Er, you handed me a discount card for the supermarket.”

Y/N swore, patting down their pockets for their wallet. They took it out, but it seemed like their credit card wasn’t in there.

“Don’t even think about it,” Y/N said before Yasuho could offer her own card. They looked around the restaurant, their eyes settling on a youngish guy with a buzzcut.

“Could I have a minute?” they asked the server.

“Of course. Call me back when you are ready.”

Yasuho watched, mystified, as Y/N got up from their seat and walked over to the guy. They planted a firm hand in front of him. Even from a distance, the rakish grin they pulled onto their face made Yasuho’s stomach dip.

“Say, you feel like playing a game?”

The guy looked up at Y/N, unimpressed. “Excuse me?”

“Play a game with me.”

“I’m just tryna eat.”

From their pocket, Y/N withdrew a pair of black dice. Their grin sharpened wolfishly. “It’s easy. If you roll under a seven with my dice, you have to pay for my dinner. But if you roll over, I’ll give you a night you’ll never forget.”

Yasuho made a small sound. What the hell? She should step in, right? Y/N was making a fool of themself. And yet there was an assurance in their voice that gave Yasuho pause.

“What are you talking about?”

Y/N leaned down, whispering into the guy’s ear. Yasuho frowned when his face flushed red.

He took the dice. Y/N cleared his table to make room for a small jade plate. They stepped back, clasping their hands behind them. They winked at Yasuho’s expression, mouthing, Just you wait.

The guy dropped the dice on the plate. Y/N clapped their hands.

“You owe me dinner.”

Yasuho stood up to see what the guy had rolled. A five. Go figure.

“Bullshit,” the guy scoffed. “Whatever. I was just humouring you.”

“I don’t think so.” Y/N laughed, scooping up the dice and the plate. “Go pay for my dinner. I need to get back to my villa.”

“Pay yourself.”

“Are you refusing?”

“I’m not paying for your dinner because of some goddamn dice.”

Yasuho heard something snap. It was followed by the guy shrieking in pain.

“Pay for my dinner,” Y/N said calmly. They ignored the alarmed glances shot their way.

“Fuck no! You’re crazy!”

A meaty crack. The guy screamed, bringing up his hand. Yasuho went cold at the blood sliding down his arm.

“Y/N, stop,” she said.

“We made a bet and you lost,” Y/N said, in that same calm tone. “Pay for my dinner and this will all be over.”

“Someone call an ambulance!” the guy wailed. “You saw what they just did to my hand, right?”

“Pay. For. My. Dinner.”

The guy’s hand twisted in on itself. Yasuho didn’t know what was happening, but she would have bet anything it was Y/N’s Stand. Y/N stood by impassively, deaf to the guy’s screaming.

“Stop,” Yasuho said louder. “I can pay for the dinner.”

“But this game is between me and him,” Y/N said. “If he pays, his hand will go back to normal. That’s all.”

“What’s going on here?” The server from earlier hurried over. His eyes widened at the mangled hand. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” he said tightly. “We don’t tolerate—”

“I’m on my way out. This gentleman here has kindly offered to pay for my dinner. I’m just waiting for him to follow through.”

“Get them out of here!” the guy screamed. A sickening sound came from his arm and Yasuho felt ill when she saw how it hung limply from his shoulder.

The server’s face was pale. “P-please just—”

“Pay for the dinner!” Y/N snapped at the guy. “You lost the game, you pay for my dinner!”

Yasuho tugged on their arm. “What are you doing? Stop it!”

“Fine, I’ll pay! Just leave me the fuck alone!” The guy scrabbled in his pocket for his wallet and practically threw it at the server. Y/N glared at him when he just stared at it.

“What are you waiting for? I thought you wanted me to leave.”

If Yasuho had any doubts the guy’s mangled hand had been the work of a Stand, they were quickly banished when the server left and the guy’s hand healed immediately. The bones snapped back into place and the blood disappeared from both his skin and the ground.

Y/N left the restaurant. Yasuho followed after them, mind still reeling.

“What was that? What did you do all of that for?”

Y/N looked back. “Don’t know what was up with my card, but it would’ve been rude to make you pay, so I got someone else to do it.”

Yasuho gaped at them. “And what you did to that guy wasn’t rude? You should’ve just let me pay! You didn’t have to twist that guy’s hand up! Didn’t you see how much pain he was in?”

“He wouldn’t have been if he’d just paid.”

“Was that your Stand?”

Y/N looked faintly surprised. “You have one too?”

“That doesn’t matter! Why did you do that? There was no reason for it!”

“Why do you care? His hand is back to normal, isn’t it?”

“It was cruel!”

Y/N’s face darkened. “Is it so bad that I want to get things out of life? I’ve got this Stand ability. What good is it for if I don’t use it?”

Yasuho grimaced. It was nearly an echo of what her mother had said. Y/N might be acting like this because they were drunk, but it still rubbed her the wrong way.

“If it’s going to be over something as petty as paying for dinner, maybe you shouldn't use it.”

“That guy was leering at you the entire dinner, did you notice? Maybe I shouldn’t have used my Stand, but I couldn’t stand the look on his face. My Stand isn’t just good for making people do things.” Y/N took in a breath, and looked at Yasuho. “I could have forced you to hang out with me, you know. Strangers rarely roll over a seven. I could have forced you to keep me company, but I didn’t. I didn’t even show you my dice. Forcing people to do things might be cruel, but I never force people to do things I think they don’t deserve. My way of justifying things, I guess.”

Yasuho couldn’t hold Y/N’s gaze. She dropped her eyes.

Y/N shrugged, turning on their heel. “Whatever. I’m going back to my villa. Thanks for having dinner with me. Hope things get better with your mom.”

Yasuho stared as they left. A part of Yasuho wanted to make sure Y/N got home safely. The rest of her told her to go home. She wondered how someone could be so bull-headed but terribly sensitive in the same breath.

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#okoshijjl #jjba #jjba x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #jojolion #jojolion x reader #gender neutral reader

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cophene · 6 days

Note

i reallly love okoshi thank you so much for all your hard work ♡ especially this recent chapter, it’s great that we get to see more of how the curse and not being able to tell ppl about the truth of it hurts mc. and i’m eating up all the interactions w josuke, joshu and karera, just perfect !! always looking forward to every new chapter ⭐️

thank you for reading! it's pretty dry out here for jojolion content, so i gotta do my part o7. writing character interactions are my favourite part of writing fics so I'm glad you're enjoying! hope you stay tuned because I've got a bunch planned muahaha >:)

#anon #anon asks #pace speaks

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cophene · 8 days

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034 || ☆ ⁺ « ENTITY ON ITS OWN.

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★˚⋆ WHAT THE FLACK IS GOING on here? you nearly said before you remembered that you were currently in Bruno’s body and Bruno didn’t say things like that. You forced yourself to tamp down on your alarm and reached for your composure.

“Abbacchio,” you said. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not Abbacchio. That’s Abbacchio,” he tipped his chin at Fugo’s prone form. “I’m Fugo. We switched souls somehow. It must have been a Stand attack.”

You heard everyone crowd onto the bridge. There were a few gasps and hissed swears.

“What the flack happened here?” Mista snapped, except the effect it had in Trish’s voice nearly made you snort.

“What’s wrong with Fugo?” Trish asked, rushing over to him.

“Did you guys have a shoot-out here or something?” Narancia asked, surveying the damage with his hands on his hips.

“Explain yourself,” Bruno said to Fugo, using the exact mix of steel and exasperation you would have.

Fugo sighed, wiping his hands on his pants. It was only then that you noticed he had been crouched over Abbacchio to apply a healing patch to his forehead. “We went briefly unconscious a little while ago. Abbacchio and I woke up at the same time and encountered each other on the bridge. Needless to say, seeing each other in our own bodies caused some alarm. We both assumed it was some kind of Stand attack and started shooting at each other. I managed to clip Abbacchio over the temple. It wasn’t until we started talking that we realized what was happening.”

“You shot Abbacchio?” Narancia said. “How’d you manage that? Your aim is shit.”

“He wouldn’t have gotten me if having our bodies switched didn’t throw me off,” Abbacchio grumbled from the ground.

“That’s a lot of blood, are you sure he’s going to be alright?” Trish asked.

“It’s just a scratch,” Fugo said, frowning. “You’re awfully concerned for once, Mista.”

“The Stand attack affected a few other people too,” you said. You pointed out who everyone was, surprising yourself when you managed to keep all of the switched identities straight.

“Wait, who are you?” Narancia said, squinting at Trish. “JoJo?”

“I’m JoJo,” JoJo piped up. “That’s Abbacchio.”

“Abbacchio’s the one who got shot,” Abbacchio said flatly, still on the ground. “That’s Narancia.”

“But I’m Narancia!”

“I’m Mista, flackbag.”

“But I thought JoJo was Mista!”

“I thought JoJo was Trish.”

“Trish isn’t JoJo?”

“You’re all confusing yourselves for nothing,” Bruno said. “We’ve all been paired off. Whichever person’s body you’re in, they’re currently in yours. Just remember that.”

Narancia scratched his head. “Great, now I’m confused. Who am I again?”

“What about the two of you?” Fugo said, looking between you and Bruno. “Did you switch?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” you said. “The Captain and I went unconscious but we didn’t switch souls. We might not have been in range.”

“Which reminds me. We still have to check on Polnareff,” Bruno said.

Mista scoffed. “What’s there to worry about? If we’re all paired up, there’s no one Polnareff could have switched with. He didn’t switch with the Captain or Bruno. He should be fine.”

“Yeah, and he was already unconscious,” Narancia added.

You realized a beat too late that as Bruno, you had to be the most concerned about Polnareff.

“We don't know what this Stand is capable of. Dr. Polnareff might have experienced different effects because he was already unconscious.” You shrugged. “I can go by myself. I just want to check on him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Trish said. “You said it yourself: we don’t know what this Stand is capable of. We should all stick together before anything else happens.”

And so, everyone made the trek to the med bay. Even though you shouldn’t have been, you felt a twinge of apprehension. Most likely Polnareff was fine. Most likely nothing had happened to him.

You made sure to push inside the med bay first. The silence inside struck you hard. The usual blur of beeping and low tones was completely gone.

Polnareff’s healing pod was dark.

“What’s wrong with the pod?” you said, immediately going to check on the console. It seemed to be working fine, except that all of the vital information and internal tracking displayed zero. That didn’t happen unless no one was in the pod or—

Well.

You pressed the button to open the pod’s lid, leaning over to peer at Polnareff. Even though the monitors couldn’t lie, you brought your fingers below Polnareff’s jaw, trying to find a pulse.

It was there. Or else your mind was desperate enough to imagine there was one.

“What’s wrong with him?” Bruno asked. He was just managing to keep the panic out of his mind, pretending to be distantly concerned instead of terribly so.

“His pulse is weak,” you said. “I’m going to try to wake him up. The tranquilizer should have worn off by now, right, Fugo?”

He nodded.

You struggled to prop Polnareff up in a sitting position, gratefully thanking Mista when he came up on the pod’s other side and helped you out. You could see Polnareff’s eyes flickering beneath his eyelids. He was still alive.

You looked back at the rest of the crew. “Should I…”

Bruno grit his teeth. “You might as well.”

Firmly, but still gently, you took Polnareff’s shoulder and shook him. “Dr. Polnareff. Dr. Polnareff, wake up.”

You were just about to slap him when a voice made you turn around.

“Don’t waste your time. I’m over here.”

You glanced at the crew, all of them looking as confused as you did.

“Dr. Polnareff, where are you?” you said, looking around. The voice hadn’t come from his body, which scared you. If Polnareff’s soul had been switched, who had he switched with?

Or maybe, what?

“Look down.”

You looked down at the ground. Near Narancia’s feet, something was moving.

Your stomach sank. From the tight look on Bruno’s face, he seemed to have reached the same conclusion.

“Narancia, pick up Coco Jumbo,” he said woodenly.

“Huh? Uh, okay.” Narancia stooped to pick up the turtle, tucking it under his arm. “How’d you get down there, buddy? Did you fall or something?”

“Yes, I did fall, actually.”

Narancia nearly lost his grip on the turtle. His eyes widened, and so did everyone else’s.

“Hold on. Polnareff?” Trish said.

“I’m afraid so.”

You couldn’t believe this. Polnareff’s voice was coming out of Coco Jumbo’s body. A flacking turtle.

Polnareff had swapped souls with a turtle.

JoJo frowned. “But Coco Jumbo is a computer, isn’t it?”

“Even if it wasn't, it’s an animal,” Abbacchio said. “Wouldn’t that make them different?”

“You’re wrong on both accounts,” Polnareff said, sounding resigned. Narancia was too freaked out to keep holding the turtle, so he set it on the nearby table.

“Coco Jumbo is no mere computer,” Polnareff continued. “Before I converted it into one, it was a real, live turtle.”

“What do you mean by that?” Fugo said. “How is that possible?”

“All living things have souls. That’s just the way things are. So by extension, all living things are capable of wielding Stands, same as humans. This turtle was unique in that it actually did possess a Stand, one that enabled it to keep a great deal of space in its shell. An entire little room, almost. It’s accessed by the key. Because of that, I was able to place the components of a supercomputer within this room and use the turtle as a holding shell. The computer is real, it’s just not the turtle.”

“So the turtle was alive this whole time?” Mista said. “It told us it wasn’t, though.”

“Just another line of code I included when I wiped Coco Jumbo’s memory banks. Having a live turtle would bring up too many questions.”

“We never even fed it,” Trish said. “How did it not die?”

“Does that mean the turtle’s soul is currently occupying your body, Dr. Polnareff?” you asked, trying to get everyone back on track. “Won’t that be … a problem?”

“I am currently dying, so yes, it may be a problem,” Polnareff said wryly.

You leaned towards him. “Dr. Polnareff, what’s going on? You don’t sound as concerned about this as you should be. I mean, nearly everyone on the ship has switched souls.”

Somehow, the turtle’s eyes managed to widen. “Nearly everyone?”

“Bruno and I didn’t switch souls,” Bruno said. “We must have been too far away from the Stand attack.”

You were probably the only one who caught the significant glance Bruno shot in Polnareff’s direction. Something unspoken passed between the two of them, and Polnareff seemed to understand to keep his mouth shut.

“You’re right that I’m not concerned,” Polnareff said instead. “In fact, I’m not even surprised. It is, after all, my Stand that caused this.”

You had woken up in Bruno’s body. Polnareff was inside a turtle, and now he was saying his Stand was the one who had attacked your crew. Things just couldn’t get any weirder.

“Anyone else’s head hurt like a bitch right now?” Mista muttered.

“I never should have agreed to help you,” Abbacchio said.

“It must have been an unintentional attack,” JoJo said. “Since Polnareff’s soul was also swapped. Why would he have done that to himself?”

“You would be correct,” Polnareff said. “As a result of Silver Chariot, nearly all of you have switched souls. Or rather, Silver Chariot Requiem.”

Fugo’s head whipped toward the turtle. “Your Stand was pierced by the Arrow?”

“My Stand’s nature with the Stand Arrow is complicated. Because of the tranquilizer, my body was put in a shut-down state. My Stand took that as a sign that I was on the brink of death. Having been struck by the Arrow once before, it took on its Requiem form to carry out my final wish.”

“That being to protect the Stand Arrow,” you said.

“Well, just call your Stand back and tell it to put our souls back,” Narancia said.

“Silver Chariot Requiem is no longer under my control,” Polnareff said tiredly. “It has ceased to be my Stand and is now an entity on its own. It has made off with the Arrow. I do not know what it will do next.”

“So there’s no way to put our souls back?” Trish asked in a small voice.

“If we kill it, will that kill you too?” Abbacchio said.

“I am as much at a loss to that as you are. I have never encountered anything like this before.”

You retreated away from the crew to think. Polnareff’s Stand had the Stand Arrow. It was the one responsible for switching everyone’s souls. The best thing to do would be to get the Arrow and just give it to Zero. The soul thing could wait.

You were about to give out a command but remembered at the last minute to rephrase it as a request.

“We need to find Dr. Polnareff’s Stand,” you said. “There has to be some way we can defeat it. Or at least switch our souls back.”

“I’ve already found it,” Fugo said grimly, looking down at his holopad. He’d switched devices with Abbacchio at some point and was now in possession of his actual holopad. “Going by the ship’s feeds, it’s in the engine room, moving up to the galley.”

“Something bad always happens in the engine room,” Narancia griped.

“Bring me with you,” Polnareff urged. “Even if I no longer have control, I still have extensive knowledge of Stands. I may be able to help.”

Bruno surprised you by saying, “JoJo? If you would?”

Everyone moved yet again to the engine room corridor. Although this ship wasn’t actually the Passione, you had never felt uneasy on a ship before. You liked to think it was your home terf. It was the part of the reason why the encounter with Sale and Zucchero had rankled you so much. Your ship was your safe haven. It was wrong that anyone or anything could be able to force its way in and threaten you.

You tried to think of whether or not the ship would be able to withstand a full-scale Stand assault. Attacks from not only Silver Chariot Requiem, but blasts from the Pistols and Aerosmith, Spice Girl, maybe even Purple Haze if it came down to it. You might end up destroying the ship. It was good that the Stand was confined to the ship, but you would have preferred any fights to happen outside, in the open.

“You’ll have to be very careful if you decide to use your Stand,” Bruno said beside you. He spoke from the corner of his mouth, careful not to let the others overhear. “We need to make sure we’re near each other and aware of the intent. We can probably get away with summoning our Stands if the other person needs to. But we need to make sure we don’t sustain damage. Any injury made on the Stand—”

“—is made on the user,” you said, annoyed. “You don’t need to tell me. I know that. Besides, it’s mostly your Stand you’ll have to worry about. Party Rock is rarely used in combat.”

Bruno nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The air seemed different inside of the galley. Maybe it was your imagination, but it seemed colder, thicker. You spotted Silver Chariot Requiem immediately, a dark shadow in the corner of the room, with a brimmed hat and tall boots. It had a heavy, shuffling gait. It seemed to suck all of the light around it into its body. Clenched in one of its hands was the Stand Arrow.

It was the first time you were seeing it in the flesh. It was the length of your forearm, gleaming and wickedly sharp. It might have been mistaken for a decorative piece, but the power it exuded was unmistakable. All of a sudden, you wanted to hold it. To feel that power in your own hands.

Get the Arrow for Zero.

Get it now.

Get it.

Now.

“It doesn’t seem like it notices us,” Abbacchio said. “It’s not reacting to us whatsoever.”

“Is it blind?” Narancia wondered.

“No, because that would be you,” Fugo said.

You lurched toward Chariot Requiem, the intent feeling in your chest too powerful to ignore.

“It’s like we could just grab the Arrow,” you said. Chariot Requiem made no sign that it noticed you, that it even cared about you at all. It just kept moving along, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. You reached over its shoulder, fingers only a few inches away from the Arrow…

“Bruno, wait, we don’t know what it could do to us,” Trish said, and you jerked your hand back.

“You could use Sticky Fingers to detach its hand and grab the arrow then,” Mista suggested, only for Fugo to slug him in the arm.

“That’s a terrible idea,” he snapped.

“Seems like a good enough idea to me,” Abbacchio said, shrugging.

“I think we should try it,” JoJo said. “We’re all here in case something goes wrong.”

“I’m not sure what Chariot’s effect would be on another Stand,” Polnareff admitted. “If you’re willing, Bruno, you should use your Stand.”

You and Bruno glanced at each other. He nodded imperceptibly, and you positioned yourself as though to withdraw your Stand.

“Sticky Fingers!” you called, and Bruno timed his Stand perfectly, having it appear at the exact next moment. You put on an expression of focus as Sticky Fingers crept toward Chariot Requiem, leaned over its shoulder.

The sound of a zipper echoed throughout the engine room. With a loud smack, Chariot Requiem’s arm fell on the floor. You all collectively held your breath, waiting for it to retaliate. To your immense relief, it merely continued on its way, walking out of the engine room entirely.

“No offense, but your Stand is really stupid,” Narancia said to Polnareff.

“I can’t believe that worked,” you said, and Bruno withdrew Sticky Fingers. With a grin, you crouched over the arm and reached out to pick up the arrow.

You didn’t get the chance. You screamed as Sticky Finger’s arm suddenly appeared in front of you, reaching for your throat.

But no. It wasn’t going for you.

It was reaching for Bruno. In your body.

You panicked. You lunged to block Sticky Fingers’ arm, realizing belatedly that it might end up puncturing your throat instead.

“Bruno, get down!” Mista shouted, shoving your head down. He fired frantic shots at Sticky Fingers, but the arm disappeared as quickly as it emerged. You barely had time to catch your breath when Abbacchio barked at everyone to get on the floor.

The Pistols were yelling maniacally. They had managed to redirect the elector pulses Mista had shot to ricochet around the engine room, and seemed intent on hitting one of your crew. You clamped your arms over your head, the Pistols’ voices shrill and piercing.

“Mista, call them off!” Bruno yelled.

“I can’t! They’re completely berserk!” Mista shouted back.

“I’ll just shoot ‘em down with Aerosmith!” Narancia called over the din.

Fugo screamed, “You flackbag, you’re going to take someone’s head off!”

Chariot Requiem meandered back into the engine room, and the Pistols’ rage fizzled out at its presence. While they wondered to themselves what had just happened, Chariot Requiem calmly stooped to retrieve its arm and the arrow before reattaching it to its socket. The limb fused smoothly back as though it had never been removed. Unconcerned, the Stand lumbered away again, leaving you all shocked in its wake.

“What just happened?” Trish said.

“Chariot Requiem doesn’t just magnify our abilities,” JoJo said slowly. “It … somehow, it can control our Stands too.”

“But how is that possible?” Mista said.

“JoJo is right,” Polnareff said. “Chariot Requiem is able to control your Stands by some measure. If you go after the Arrow in any way, your own Stand will be the thing that attacks you.”

Narancia shook his head. “That’s flacking crazy. No way that can happen.”

“It just did,” Abbacchio said, getting to his feet.

You looked down at the ground, horrified. If what everyone was saying was true, there would be no way to get back the Stand Arrow. No way to get it to Zero.

You felt a twinge of pain in your chest.

You couldn’t fail. Not now. You just couldn’t. You couldn’t bear to imagine the disappointment Zero would feel, how angry, how devastated.

A shudder went through the ship and you felt your stomach drop. Everyone looked up instinctively as the lights flickered.

“We passed through Bend Gate I,” Fugo said.

Mista swore. “What are we going to do? Zero is going to be waiting for us.”

“We should still have time to deal with this,” Narancia said. “I mean, it’s not like he’s going to be right there—”

From above, you heard the comms system on the bridge begin to blare. Everyone rushed to the bridge, but you had a feeling you already knew who it was.

“We’re getting hailed,” Trish said, leaning over the comms console. It was strange to see Mista’s body there instead of at the weapons console.

“I’m guessing it’s Zero?” Bruno said.

Trish shook her head slowly. “No. It’s … it’s an Imperial ship,” Her face went pale. “Belonging to Prince Donatello.”

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#kismetva #jjba #jjba x reader #jjba fanfic #golden wind #golden wind x reader #vento aureo #vento aureo x reader #gender neutral reader #sci fi au

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cophene · 10 days

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011 | heart rotting nightmare.

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★ . . . YOUR FIRST WEEK IN MORIOH passed by in that sneaky way that days did when you didn’t pay attention.

You went sightseeing with Daiya, which turned out to be surprisingly fun when you had all your memories. Karera took you, unfortunately, to that strip club, which ended in a very inebriated Karera and a few thousand wasted yen. Josuke texted you occasionally to ask how you were doing, and you tolerated Joshu’s daily texts until the urge to cause him bodily harm became too much.

You went out as much as you could in an attempt to get to know people. People in Morioh were perfectly nice, but no one seemed very keen to fall head over heels for you. Karera kept telling you that you were putting too much pressure on yourself, but of course she would say that when she didn’t know your birthday might also be your death day. Karera probably thought that even if you lost your family fortune, you would still get back on your feet, what with the business ventures and investments your family had. While that could be true, you knew the curse was no joking matter. When the mountain gods said you’d lose your fortune, you would lose your fortune. There would be no way to get it back, otherwise, what made it a curse?

The truth was that the Higashikatas and Karera didn’t know half of your family curse. When your great-grandfather had first struck the deal, all it had entailed was for an heir to inherit and protect the fortune at all times. It had gone well enough until your family grew lazy and unaffected. Soon no one wanted the responsibility of heading the family and working to secure relations when they would always have money, no matter what. The current heir died and no one claimed the fortune. A massive financial crash occurred the next day, wiping out all of your family accounts.

Your grand-aunt returned to Morioh to plead with the mountain gods. Why the gods gave your family a second chance, you didn’t know. They restored your family fortune and tightened the curse tenfold. This marked the beginning of each heir finding their true love before their nineteenth birthday and dying if they didn’t. You supposed it was the gods’ way of making sure your family didn’t take the fortune for granted. Things from the gods came with a price, and sacrificing yourself for your heart’s other half was the price for your fortune. With your uncle in ill health, you couldn’t fumble this. All of your cousins were too young to inherit the fortune if your uncle died. The fortune rested on your shoulders. Every time your phone rang, you cringed, knowing it could be your family demanding to hear about your progress.

But even without the curse looming over your head, your lack of game was disheartening. You weren’t too bad on the eyes, and you weren’t lacking in personality. Why hadn’t anyone gone out with you yet? You spent an obscene amount of money in an effort to distract yourself. Little charms and seafood and clothes and touristy knick knacks. Your fortune never ran dry. Might as well make the most of it before it disappeared.

On your second Sunday in Morioh, your vibrating phone woke you up. You ignored it when you saw that it was an unknown number, but the person immediately called a second and third time.

“Good morning, Y/N.”

“Who are you? Why are you calling at such an ungodly hour?” you grumbled in an ungodly croak.

“It is not ungodly in the slightest. It is already eight in the morning.”

Oh shit. You cleared your throat and rubbed a hand over your face even though they couldn't see you. “Morning, Kei,” you said, your voice going from pissed to pleasant in a blink. Couldn’t let the cute housekeeper know you were lacking. “Nice to hear from you. What’s up?”

“Norisuke-san requested you be at the Higashikata Fruit Parlour by noon. Daiya and Hato will be stopping by the villa soon to help you get ready.”

You sat up. “Wait, what? Why? What’s going on?”

“I recommend you do as he asks. It is already too late to go back.”

“Kei, what’s going on?”

She hung up without answering. You scowled at your phone. And here you were hoping Kei had called because she’d realized she had fallen madly in love with you.

You found Karera downstairs scrolling on her phone.

“Oi, did Norisuke-san tell you he was planning anything today?”

“No, why?”

You told her about Kei and fruit parlour. She grinned. “If this is going where I think it’s going, I’m gonna need popcorn and a drink.”

“And where is this going?”

There was a knock at the front door and Karera leapt up to answer it. Without warning, Daiya and Hato descended upon you. The glint in their eyes put you immediately on edge.

“What’s going on?” you demanded.

“I’m going to the fruit parlour,” Karera announced. “You ladies pretty up Y/N. Turn ‘em from a five to a straight ten.”

“Aw, you’re already cute,” Daiya said. “You can’t paint over an ugly house.”

“The hell does that mean?”

Daiya and Hato dragged you upstairs as Karera swept out the door. You watched helplessly as the sisters lay waste to your clothes. For the next hour and a half, they twisted you about like a mannequin, handing you every possible combination of your clothes they could make. Eventually, you got sick of stepping outside every time they made you try something and just stood there tiredly in your underwear as they agonized over your clothes. It wasn’t embarrassing. They talked about you the way you talked about a block of wood.

The last half hour was dedicated exclusively to your face. Hato set about your face like a painter to canvas. Daiya oohed and aahed as she worked. They refused to let you see your reflection until one final swipe of moisturizer, a burst of hairspray, and a spritz of perfume.

You still looked like yourself. All Hato had done was turn you into a shinier, smoother version of yourself. Professionally subtle. You looked sophisticated. Less like a desperate tourist and more like the mysterious heir. And the two sisters clearly knew their stuff because your outfit looked damn good. You wondered how you hadn’t made the fit yourself.

“Do you like it?” Hato asked, looking over your shoulder at your reflection.

“Yeah, it’s great.” You ran a hand over your hair. “I thought you were gonna do something crazy but I actually look pretty good.”

“Well, of course. Our dad didn’t send us over to make you look bad.”

“We should get going,” Daiya gushed, pulling you to your feet. “We can’t be late.”

“Go where? No one has told me what’s going on.” Between the phone call and the makeover, you were feeling more uneasy than excited. Knowing the Higashikatas, it couldn’t be anything good.

The two sisters herded you to Hato’s car. “Don’t scowl, you’ll ruin the makeup! We’re helping you out like we promised. All you have to do is sit back and be your charming self.”

You clacked your bone dice together nervously the entire ride to the fruit parlour. Daiya and Hato kept bursting into giggles over the centre console, and your questions fell on deaf ears.

A line stretched outside the fruit parlour when you arrived. Daiya and Hato marched you confidently past all of the customers to the door, which Joshu opened suddenly with wide eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he hissed. “Is your phone dead or something? I sent you fifty messages not to come.”

Your stomach dropped. “I didn’t—I was kinda—”

“Move, Joshu,” Hato snapped. “We don’t have time for this. It’s rude to keep them waiting.”

Daiya sighed. “I know how you’re feeling, Joshu. It can’t be easy to watch the love of your life get matched off with someone else.”

“What are you guys talking about?”

The sisters pushed you inside and crowded into the elevator to the second floor. Joshu tried one last time to get you outside, but Hato slapped him upside the head and told him to shut up. This was bad. If Joshu didn’t want you to do this, it had to be something from the nine circles of hell.

The elevator door opened.

You were frozen to the spot, mouth agape, mind at a loss.

The mountain gods had taken you to the afterlife. There was no way a person could experience this much mortification and horror without their heart seizing up.

The fruit parlour had been transformed into a heart-rotting nightmare. White and pink ribbons hung from the ceiling, literal rose petals drifting through the air. The smell of sugar and cream hung heavy, and the booths had been decorated with lace and velvet. Decadent little cakes and sweets sat on every empty surface. Lilting flute and violin music played from somewhere, and it might have been pleasant if you weren’t so horrified.

At the sight of you, the servers who had been waiting nearby broke out in applause. Their dark uniforms had been replaced with waistcoats and ruffled dress shirts. You gaped at the dainty kid gloves covering their hands.

Your heart was having trouble in your ribcage. You reached back for someone, anyone. Joshu looked faintly startled at the contact.

“Get me out of here,” you breathed.

“I fucking tried,” he groused. “I told you you shouldn’t have come.”

“Ah, they’re finally here!” Norisuke swept out from the kitchen like some benevolent king. He beamed at you, lifting up your hand to another round of applause. “We can finally begin.”

“Norisuke-san, what is going on?” you choked out.

“Today, our fruit parlour is hosting a luncheon in honour of the elusive heir. I’ve invited eligible bachelors from all over Morioh to meet you. You’re going to find your true love today, on my honour as a Higashikata.”

You were starting to feel faint. “But why? You didn’t have to do this. I’m doing just fine.”

“So you’ve found your true love already?”

Joshu cleared his throat pointedly behind you. You ignored him. “I still have a month left. You didn’t have to do all of this. It seems like such a hassle.”

“Are you kidding? Business is the best it’s been in weeks!” Daiya piped up. “Do you know how many reservations we got when we mentioned you? Everyone’s dying to meet you!”

“It’s all for the flow of business,” Norisuke assured you. “Anything for our close business associates. It was no hassle at all.” Norisuke snapped his fingers. “Look lively everyone, we’ll be starting shortly. Have the first suitor come up at once.”

The room was spinning. Someone took your arm and led you to one of the booths, already set with egg tarts and juice.

“Did you know about this?” you asked Josuke. You were too dazed to even admire how cute he looked.

“They didn’t tell me until I walked through the door. I promise I would’ve warned you otherwise.”

You groaned quietly.

Karera flicked the back of your ear. She was dressed in the same waistcoat as the servers, the traitor. “Weren’t you bitching about how you couldn’t find anyone? Norisuke has literally done all of the hard work for you! You look cute as hell, you’re getting free food, and you don’t even have to lift your ass to find people who want to date you. If that’s not a win, I don’t know what is.”

“So you did know about this,” you said faintly.

“I was the one who gave Norisuke the idea. You’re welcome.”

Josuke spoke before you could strangle her. “Maybe you just try it out for a little. This is all for you. If you don’t like it, you can always call it off. Maybe you really will find someone and you won’t have to stress as much.”

You looked around. “It’s just a bit … much.”

“But if it works, it’ll be worth it.” Josuke poked your shoulder. “Today’s all about you. You do things how you want. Just be yourself, and it will all work out.”

Karera thumped Josuke on the back .“We’ll get rid of the nasties for you. If they don’t pass our standards, they’re out the door before you even see them. Plus your fiancé will be watching you like a hawk.”

You became aware of Joshu’s eyes boring into the back of your head from the next stall.

“Lucky me.”

You met a vast array of people that day. Perfectly nice people who gave you their number and asked to hang out more. People who turned on their heel the minute they saw you. People who squirmed uncomfortably as their grandmother attempted to set the two of you up. People who complimented your shoe size and begged you to show a bit of toe cleavage. People who demanded to know every digit of your bank card, account and number. People who admitted they didn’t know they were here to date but the parfaits were amazing, weren’t they?

You didn’t meet one person who took your curse seriously. Neither did you meet anyone who rolled higher than a six. You forced everyone who had sat down to roll your bone dice. You had learned your lesson with Josuke and Daiya and refrained from setting up a task, just in case they happened to surprise you. Most people rolled your dice with amusement, writing you off as superstitious. Their eyebrows would raise when you told them about your curse, and after a few dozen people, it became easier to just avoid mentioning the curse altogether.

Norisuke was a gracious host, making sure the desserts and drinks kept coming and nudging you pointedly when your smile dropped. True to their word, Josuke and Karera kept a close eye on you, politely escorting people out when it was clear no sparks were flying. Daiya and Hato provided running commentary, a few booths away, making no secret who they did and didn’t like. And all your “fiancé” did was sit behind you, burning a hole into your scalp with his eyes. More than a few people noticed him and asked if he was an ex.

No, you answered flatly. He was not.

Eventually, the last “suitor” came and went. Everyone bustled together as the parlour closed down, excited voices buzzing together. You should have been just as excited to pick your favourites, but all you felt was a bone-deep weariness. You stole downstairs when no one was looking. You needed some air. As much as you appreciated Karera and the Higashikatas for putting this whole thing together, it had still been a lot. You would have liked a day or two to prepare. Half the time, you had felt like a deer in headlights, unable to offer up anything that made you appealing or mysterious or charming. You had the numbers of four or five people, but strangely, it felt like you hadn’t made any progress. If anything, meeting so many people had just made you more aware how none of them had seemed like the one for you.

You looked up at the sky, the sky bleeding into indigo. You had three weeks left until your birthday. If your true love really was in this town, they were doing a great job of avoiding you. Not for the first time, you wondered, What if they’re not here at all? What if I’ve already missed them?

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. You fished it out, thinking it might be Karera asking you where you had gone.

You let the number ring. Sure enough, the person called again a minute later. You took your time answering, even though you knew she hated it.

“Hi, Mom. Time to check in already, huh?”

You walked, keeping your phone by your ear but not really listening to your mother, only catching her every other sentence. It was exactly what you’d been dreading to hear the moment you landed in S-City.

What do you mean you haven’t found anyone yet? Are you even trying?

Your uncle is sick and you’re wasting our family fortune! How selfish can you be?

It hurt that your mother thought you were being a reckless kid when you were trying your best to help your family. What your mother said next however, made you stop in your tracks. People streamed around you, glancing at you irritably.

“If you can’t find even one person to be interested in you, why don’t you take the next plane home?”

A stone sank in your stomach. You tried and failed not to sound petulant. “I’ve only been here for a week. You can’t make me go home.”

“Listen to yourself!” your mother snapped. “Your uncle is dying. You don’t have time to waste. Or do you want us to die along with your uncle?”

“I’m doing my best,” you said quietly. “Didn’t you tell me to make myself appealing and approachable? I can’t do that by springing a deadly curse on everyone I meet. People already don’t believe me as it is.”

Your mother’s voice simmered. “I never told you to waste your money on a vacation. Your uncle has been patriarch for years. The least you could do is pretend you care about him. You’ve always been self-absorbed, but this is unacceptable.”

You almost laughed. Self-absorbed? Your mother wasn’t the one who would die once the month was over and you felt the need to remind her.

“You don’t have any right to tell me what to do when you couldn’t even complete the curse yourself. If uncle hadn’t taken over for you when he did, our family would have been long dead.”

The savage satisfaction you felt was immediately tempered by guilt. It wasn’t a story your mother went around sharing, but she too had had trouble finding her true love. Your uncle had claimed the heirship from her mere days before her birthday, and because the current heir had still been alive, the curse had allowed it. While your uncle had carried the mantle of heir gracefully, you knew your mother had always been guilty about forcing him into that position.

“Fine then. Stay in Morioh,” your mother said, all hint of emotion gone from her voice. “I want to meet your true love by next weekend. If not, you’re being locked from all of your bank accounts and cards.”

You balked. “Are you kidding me? How am I supposed to do that?”

“You need to learn to take things seriously. I couldn't complete the curse because I learned that lesson too late. You can’t afford to make the same mistake because you have no one else to take your place. Our entire family is depending on you. Your great-grandfather didn’t sacrifice what he did so you could squander it.”

Your mother hung up and it was like she had slammed a door in your face. You clenched your jaw. Something burned hot and tight in your chest, and you choked down the scream rising in your throat.

Was your mother really so blind that she hadn’t figured it out by now? She had to realize that you weren’t as selfish or immature or reckless as she thought. You had three weeks left to live and she thought you were wasting the family’s money?

Your phone buzzed. You shut it off, clenching your jaw so hard you thought it would crack. This was the curse in full force. It was so ludicrous no one would believe you. And no one could grasp its gravity because no one knew you would die. If you died, your family would have no money or anything to depend on. It didn’t matter that your uncle had managed to do it, or your great-aunt, or your great-grandfather. They were three exceptions out of dozens of lost family members.

True love was lightning in a bottle. Was it possible to find someone like that? And hold onto them when you did?

The impossibility of it threatened to pull you under. People went their whole lives without finding anyone. What guaranteed that you find your true love in this town, right this month, right before your birthday?

Your face felt hot. Tears pricked at the back of your eyes and your throat closed. You started walking again, hurrying away from the shopping district. You needed to be alone. You needed somewhere quiet so you could just take a moment to think.

The buildings passed by in a blur. You managed to leave the busy streets behind, following a quiet road down somewhere. Eventually the sounds of people chattering and cars passing by became the rustling of trees and insects tittering around. A little playground came into view, the edges of street lamps providing a bit of light. A pair of swings swayed and you had to sit in one just because of how lonely they looked.

You couldn’t do this. You didn’t know who you were kidding. No one would fall in love with a random tourist. You should have left your fortune alone.

But your mother was right when she said you were self-absorbed. Your whole life, you had never done anything for your family. You had never worked a day in your life, gone out of your way to do anything for anyone. That was partly because your family had never needed you to do that, but looking back, you realized how much of a prick that made you. Even the things you did for Karera were more out of amusement than any genuine concern. You paid for her escapades because they were something to do and with a fortune that never ran dry, you could afford to keep up any number of stupid schemes.

Going out to face the curse was the first time in your life you were doing anything for your family. Of course it would be the last resort. It was seeming more likely that you would return to your family in a coffin than with the fortune intact.

You squeezed your bone dice in your pocket. If only they could be used to force your true love to come to you. But that would defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it?

“What the hell am I supposed to do?” you shouted at no one. Or maybe you were shouting at the mountain gods. “If you really want me to do this, give me a sign!”

Your voice disappeared into the nearby trees. Only their rustling leaves answered you, seeming to sigh at your hopelessness.

You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t want to go back to the villa, but you didn’t want to stay here either. And you definitely didn’t want to go back to your home and your dying uncle and your disapproving mother.

All you wanted was for this curse to stuff itself and let you meet your true love on your own terms.

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cophene · 15 days

Text

033 || ☆ ⁺ « AN OUT OF BODY EXPERIENCE.

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★˚⋆ EVEN BEFORE YOU’D OPENED YOUR eyes, you knew you had gone out in an awkward position. Your entire left leg was numb, and your arm popped as you shifted slightly. You were going to pay for this impromptu passing-out in a few hours.

You blinked a few times before cracking your eyes open entirely. You were on the floor, still in your room. With a bone-deep sigh, you hauled yourself to your feet, taking a minute as blood rushed to your head.

Why had you just passed out like that? Had you been that tired? You had been right in the middle of your talk with Bruno.

Your stomach bottomed out at that. Bruno. You had misunderstood him completely it seemed like. Assumed his happiness when it had never been. That was the thing that hurt more than anything. You realized it was wrong to assume Passione gave everyone the same amount of happiness and gratification as it did you, but out of everyone, you would have thought Bruno had felt the most similar.

Did the sea really offer more for him than Passione? It seemed completely left-field to you. He had never shown any indication. All of the vacations you’d taken, he’d never once asked to visit a sea planet. Why had he made his love for the sea a secret? Or maybe it was that you’d never taken the time to get to know him. Really understand him the way he seemed to understand everyone else.

You drew a hand over your eyes. No one had messaged your holopad yet, so you assumed you weren’t at the Bend Gate. You should probably try to find Bruno and come to a sensible agreement. Apologize for being such a stubborn flack bag and insulting him like you didn’t owe him.

Polpo was right. You really weren’t yourself anymore.

You went over to the door, but paused when you passed by your bed. You had to look again to make sure, but no, you weren’t seeing things.

There was someone in it.

No one ever slept in your bed but you. There was no need, seeing as everyone had their own rooms and any other escapades took place in hotels and resorts. All of the rooms were fingerprint-locked, so it wasn’t like one of the crew could have stumbled in here by mistake.

Carefully, you drew back the blanket over the person. With a jolt, you yanked back the blankets entirely, your heart practically leaping into your throat.

You were the one in your bed. That was your body lying there, still wearing the same clothes you’d passed out in. You couldn’t help rolling the person over, just to make sure.

That was you. Your face.

Had you died? Were you having an out-of-body experience?

“What the flack,” you said, stumbling back. Your voice startled you. Because it wasn’t your voice. Definitely not. Entirely different not yours at all not even close what had happened to your voice?

You brought your hands up to your face. These weren’t your hands. Weren’t your arms. You looked down at the body that wasn’t yours, unfamiliar clothes and legs and feet.

You spun to the wall, slamming your palm down to turn on a mirror. Your reflection appeared and you suppressed the urge to scream.

Dark blue eyes where yours should have been.

Not your reflection.

Bruno’s.

You leaned in closer, and so did Bruno. You touched your face, your hair. Somehow, somehow, you were in Bruno’s body, controlling it.

“What happened?” you asked, and it was Bruno’s voice that said it. You pressed a fist against your—Bruno’s?—mouth, trying not to panic. Trying to make sense of things. You bit down on your fist. Pain.

This wasn’t a dream. This was really flacking happening.

You closed your eyes, trying to control your breathing. What about your Stand? Did you still have Party Rock? You made to summon it, hoping against hope you would see it.

When you opened your eyes, you nearly cried out at the sight of your Stand. Stars, you could have hugged it. You still had your Stand. Inside, intrinsically, your soul was still intact, even if you were in Bruno’s body.

Did that mean … you had switched souls with Bruno? But how? Why? Was this in itself a work of a Stand?

You turned back to your bed. Did that mean Bruno’s soul was in your body? You gingerly shook your body’s shoulder.

“Hey. Wake up. Come on.”

What if your body didn’t wake up? What would you do then? What if by leaving your body, it had died?

“Please. Wake up.”

Your body stirred. They rolled over, groaning.

“I feel terrible,” they said, and all at once, they bolted upright, looking alarmed.

They screamed when they saw you, then clamped a hand over their mouth. Horror, alarm, shock flickered across their face, expressions that were at once foreign and familiar because you had made those expressions too, even if you’d never seen them from the outside.

“What…? Who are you? How are you—” They patted themself down. Looked at their hands. Ran fingers over their face.

“You’re … how are you in my body?”

It was Bruno’s soul in your body then. He leaped out of the bed to the mirror, staring just like you had.

“How did this happen? How is this possible?” Bruno turned to you. “Are you the Captain?”

You nodded tightly. “I woke up like this. I don’t know what happened.”

Bruno looked back at his reflection. It was unsettling, watching him control your body, use your voice. There was something fundamentally wrong about it.

“I don’t understand. What’s happening?”

“I think we switched souls,” you said. “Can you summon your Stand?”

Bruno’s lip trembled. “Sticky Fingers,” he said weakly, as though afraid of what would happen. His Stand appeared a moment later, unperturbed.

“We switched souls,” Bruno said to himself. He looked at his hands again. Your hands. They looked different from the outside. You hated it.

“A Stand attack, most likely,” you said. “One more powerful than we’ve ever encountered. It must have happened when we went unconscious” A thought struck you suddenly. “It might have affected the rest of the crew too.” You charged for the door.

“Captain, wait.”

His voice cracked. You looked back at him. Bruno clenched his fists, a deep frown carving his face. Your face. Flack, this was confusing.

“Think for a second just what this means. Whoever it was that attacked us, they’ve just placed you at a major disadvantage.”

“No shit,” you snapped. “I’m in someone else’s body.”

Bruno grabbed your arm. You nearly flinched before remembering your forearm didn’t have the scar anymore.

“Captain, no matter what the state of the crew is outside, you can’t let anyone know we switched bodies. Think of how vulnerable you are right now. You won’t be able to make your deal with Zero. You don’t have authority anymore.”

You stared at Bruno. “What are you saying?”

“You can’t let anyone know,” he repeated. “As far as anyone is concerned, nothing happened to us. You are Bruno. I am Y/N.”

“But why—”

“We can use this, Captain. If something happens to you, it’s really happening to me. If something happens, you’ll still be able to lead. They’ll underestimate you.”

“Do you know how long you’ve been gone? You can’t pretend to be me.”

“I’m trying to protect you, Captain. I always have been. While I’m here, let me take this for you. The Stand user will doubt themself if they think we haven’t switched bodies. We can confuse them with their own game.”

How had Bruno managed to think of all this, when a few minutes ago he had been passed out and in his own body? You could see what he was trying to say. If anything went down, Bruno would be able to take the fall for you.

“Why? Why are you still willing to do this?”

Bruno smiled gently. Even though it was your face, there was still some hint of Bruno in the smile.

“I told you I didn’t leave because I had a grudge against you. I care about you more than anyone else, now that my father is gone.”

Your throat tightened. He still cared. Even after all of the shit you’d yelled at him.

You’d missed him. Missed having his reassurance. You only now allowed yourself to admit it, trapped inside his body.

“Fine then. Let’s check on the others.”

“You have to remember that we wouldn’t know about the Stand attack,” Bruno said. It was disorienting listening to your own voice without controlling it. “We have to let the others figure this out on their own. Don’t let anyone know that we know what happened.”

You pushed outside, just barely remembering to let Bruno go ahead of you. You had to put on a different mindset now. You were Bruno. You had to act, speak, look the way he did. It was overwhelming when you thought about it, so you resolved to take things one step at a time.

The lights along the hall indicated only JoJo and Narancia were in their rooms. Instinctively, you and Bruno went to Narancia’s room.

“Narancia,” Bruno said in your voice. “Are you awake? Can you open the door?”

You clenched your jaw. “If everyone else got switched too, this might not be Narancia,” you said quietly.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Bruno knocked again. “Narancia? Open the door!”

The door slid open. Narancia looked out at you, his hair a mess and his clothes wrinkled. There were pillow creases on his face.

“C-Captain?” he said. You had to consciously remind yourself not to react. At least not until Narancia looked at you. “What’s going on?”

“Are you okay?” Bruno asked. “How do you feel, Narancia?” Narancia blinked. “I, uh, you have the wrong room. Narancia is across from me…” His voice trailed off as he pointed across the hall. He stared at his hand, as though seeing it for the first time. Then he looked down at himself.

Without warning, he rushed back into the room, looking for the nearest mirror. He gasped when he saw his reflection, eyes blown wide as saucers.

“W-what? How is this—what happened? Why am I—why do I look like Narancia?”

“Are you JoJo, then?” Bruno asked, coming up behind him. You followed warily.

“Yes. At least, I think so.” JoJo turned his head, tracing a line against his jaw. He swore quietly, then winced, pressing a hand against Narancia’s bandaged eye.

“We think there was a Stand attack,” you said, trying to mimic the careful cadence that Bruno had. “We went unconscious a little while ago.”

“Are you both still in your own bodies?” JoJo asked.

“As far as we can tell,” Bruno said.

JoJo turned back to the mirror, his gaze intense. “Somehow I��m in Narancia’s body. We switched bodies somehow. No, that’s not right. It’s more likely that we—”

There was a scream from JoJo’s room. Immediately, the three of you rushed over, banging on the door until it slid open.

“Captain, you gotta help me!” Whoever it was in JoJo’s body threw himself at Bruno, shaking him. “I don’t know what the flack happened but why do I look like JoJo?! I got switched into his body or something! What am I supposed to do?” The person noticed JoJo and let out a wail.

“And now there’s someone controlling my body! Captain, what do I do?! Tell me this is some freaky hologram simulation. Please!”

“Narancia, you need to calm down,” Bruno said. “We think there was a Stand attack. We’re still trying to figure this out.”

“So, you’re telling me a Stand switched our bodies?!” Narancia shrieked. It was a bizarre experience watching JoJo’s face contort into Narancia’s overly anguished expressions.

“Not our bodies,” JoJo said, in a tone that would have been way too calm for Narancia. “Our souls. I still have a connection with my Stand. Somehow, our souls have switched bodies.”

“So how do we fix that?” Narancia cried.

“We need to gather everyone else up first,” you said. “Figure out if anyone else is affected. So far, it’s only you and JoJo.”

“You’ve gotta remember it’s me and not JoJo,” Narancia said. “Don’t mix us up!”

“Where is everyone?” JoJo said, and as though someone had heard him, there was another high-pitched shriek in the direction of the galley.

“What the hell?!” Mista screamed when you got there. Though, you could tell immediately it wasn’t him because his voice was so screechy it jumped nearly two octaves. “What happened to me?! How am I in Mista’s body?”

“Trish,” Bruno murmured to you, and you nodded.

“Ooh, this is so disgusting!” Trish cried, her entire body shuddering. “I’m so hairy! There’s hair on my knuckles! And—” she sniffed under her armpit, gagging. “I smell rancid! It’s like I’ve never touched a stick of deodorant in my life! What is wrong with me?!”

If Trish hadn’t sounded so distressed, her Upper Space accent coming out in Mista’s voice would’ve made you laugh.

“Trish, it’s alright. Just calm down,” Bruno said, raising his hands.

“That’s easy for you to say! I feel like I’m coated in slime!”

There was a groan from one of the far tables. “Would everyone shut the flack up? I’m trying to sleep here.”

You moved over to where Mista was slumped in one of the tables. He blinked blearily up at you, raising his hands over his head as he yawned. He scratched absently at his chest, and then stopped, his eyes widening.

“Wait, what?! Where the hell did these things come from?!” Mista cupped his—or well, Trish’s—breasts in horror. Then his hand flew to his crotch area and he made an ungodly noise.

“Ayo, where my dick at?!”

“Watch where you’re putting your hands, flackbag!” Trish screamed, lunging across the table at Mista. “Just what do you think you’re doing? Keep your hands away from my privates!”

“Wha—Trish? Why are you in my body?”

“Stop touching my panties!”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it!”

“I’m going to shoot you! I can’t believe you would—”

“It’s not my fault your panties are so flacking tight! I feel like I’m in a straitjacket for my crotch!”

“You smell like a live sewer!”

“At least I’m not being suffocated by my underwear!”

You sighed, rubbing your eyes with your hands. This was something you hadn’t been expecting.

“Dude, I didn’t even think of that,” Narancia said to JoJo, his eyes wide. “What if I have to go to the bathroom? Do you give me permission?”

“I, uh, I guess so. There’s not much I can do about that.”

“Wait, what if you have to go to the bathroom? Am I going to have to look over your shoulder?”

“That would just make it worse.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. We’re still going to have to lay some ground rules about that, though. Oh, how’s the eye? Does it hurt?”

“Terribly.”

“Sorry about that. Probably the only good thing about this is that I get to escape from my eye disease for a while, ha.”

“Everyone, please get it together,” Bruno said, clapping his hands. “I know this isn’t easy for anyone but freaking out isn’t going to help anything. We need to stay calm and think this through.”

You couldn’t help being a little impressed at how well Bruno was able to imitate you, despite how long he had been gone. He managed to get the bite of steel in your voice just right, and the stiff way you held yourself that was a relic from your military days. You could only hope you were imitating Bruno half as well. It was one thing to be as exuberant as Narancia or cocky as Mista. Someone more reserved like Bruno was more difficult.

Trish sniffled. “Does that mean everyone else switched bodies too? I’m guessing you’re not the Captain?”

“Bruno and the Captain were lucky enough to escape the Stand attack,” JoJo said. “I’m JoJo. Narancia is the one in my body.”

“Flack, it’s a Stand attack?” Mista reached for his shoulder holster before remembering he didn’t have it anymore. He snatched his elector from Trish, who yelped and crossed her arms over herself. “Where are they? I’m going to splatter their brains for this.”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” you said. “So far, we’ve established that we still have our Stands. We don’t seem to be otherwise harmed.”

“Uh, speak for yourself,” Narancia said. He swivelled his head around, searching for something. “I’ve been calling for Aerosmith for the past few minutes and I can’t find it. Flack, what if I lost my Stand?”

Bruno frowned. “That wouldn’t be—” He didn’t have time to finish the sentence before he had to duck to avoid having his head taken off. Aerosmith swooped down from above without warning, going so fast you could barely see it. Everyone ducked as it flew manic circles overhead, not stopping until Narancia raised his arms for it to touch down and withdraw.

“That was awesome!” he crowed. “Aerosmith’s never been this strong before! And check out my radar! I can see practically the whole ship.”

Mista whipped out his elector. Without looking, he and his Pistols landed a shot through all of the leftover Coco Jumbo cartons on the tables with a single elector pulse.

“Nice aim, Pistols,” he praised, and the Pistols cheered loudly.

“So not only are our souls still intact, our Stand abilities are heightened,” JoJo said.

You and Bruno glanced at each other, stowing away the information for later.

“Wait, has anyone checked up on Abbacchio and Fugo?” Trish asked.

Your stomach sank. You had forgotten all about the two of them.

“Does anyone know where they went?” Bruno asked.

“Uh, bridge, maybe?” Narancia said. “Or maybe the engine room?”

“What about Polnareff?” Mista said. “Anyone know what’s up with him?”

You were already running. Everyone had gone unconscious before the soul swap. Depending on where the two of them were, Abbacchio and Fugo may or may not have switched with each other. Which left Polnareff. Or maybe their souls had been switched between the three of them.

You burst onto the bridge, shouting Fugo’s and Abbacchio’s names. What you saw next made you draw up short.

Fugo was sprawled out on the ground, an elector a few inches from his hand. Abbacchio had his knee pinning down Fugo’s chest, his fingers slick with blood. Chairs had been knocked askew around the consoles. There were elector burns everywhere, and a crack splintered across the bridge’s main display. It smelled faintly of smoke and metal. And quite powerfully of iron.

Abbacchio looked up at you, scowling deeply.

“Well, shit,” he said.

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cophene · 17 days

Text

010 | fun fun fun.

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★ . . . KARERA, WHAT HAPPENED? ARE YOU okay?”

You crouched down, wanting to help Karera up but afraid you would make things worse. You gingerly brought up Karera’s hand to see where the blood was coming from. A thin line of crimson trailed down her wrist, clotting together into a Q-shaped symbol on the back of Karera’s hand. Looking down at Karera’s feet revealed the same thing.

“You need to get out,” Karera said. At first you thought her voice was weak from pain but it was more like she was intentionally keeping her voice quiet. She grasped at your shirt frantically, her face bloodless. “Don’t worry about me. Just go!”

“What’s going on? I’m not just gonna leave you here,” you hissed. You turned to Josuke. “Can you find a towel or something? We need to wipe this blood off.”

Josuke’s face was pinched. He moved around Karera to reach for the kitchen towel hanging from the stove.

“Don’t touch that!” Karera gasped. Josuke instantly flinched back.

“He’s trying to help you,” you said.

Josuke picked up one corner of the towel. His eyes widened. “There are … needles in this towel.” Looking closer, you could see that someone had pierced dozens of little needles through the cloth. Dread prickled along your spine. You got to your feet. “I’m calling the police. Someone must have broken into the villa.”

“Wait,” said Josuke. He pointed at you. “What’s that on your hand?”

You turned your hand over. A blood-red symbol gleamed on your skin.

“But how?” Had you gotten Karera’s blood on you somehow? You hadn’t touched anything in this house yet except that stupid slipper and—

—the light switch.

You hurried towards it. A thumbtack was stuck just under the switch, barely noticeable unless you were looking for it.

Panic made your voice pitchy. “Josuke, call the police.”

“We can’t,” he said. His eyes scanned the kitchen, taking everything in. “This has to be a Stand.”

A Stand? You went back into the kitchen, suddenly feeling exposed.

“There was a thumbtack in your slipper earlier, right?” Josuke tightened his jaw. “Check your foot.”

You rolled down your sock and inhaled sharply. A red mark.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Whoever attacked Karera is still here. Besides the symbols, she doesn’t look hurt. I’m guessing that means they have to be nearby to start their attack.”

You barely processed half the words coming out of Josuke’s mouth. “Maybe we should get out of here then,” you said. You looked at Karera. She pressed her lips together and nodded.

“We know you’re hiding somewhere!” Josuke shouted suddenly. “Call off your Stand! Now!”

“Shhhh!” Karera pushed herself up, waving her hands. “Be quiet! You can’t make noise! If they hear you, they’ll—”

Karera jolted upright. Her hand stretched into the air and slammed against one of the cupboards.

“Karera, what are you doing?”

“It’s not me! I can’t control my hand!”

Karera’s hand scrabbled around until the cupboard swung open. She lurched forward, reaching inside to scoop out the dishes inside and fling them onto the floor. The porcelain shattered in a deafening crash. Josuke shoved you behind him, bringing up his arms to shield himself. You stopped him too late. Blood slid down his palms, clotting together into the same mark you and Karera had.

You were starting to understand what was happening now. Injuring yourself allowed the Stand to clot your blood together into a symbol. That symbol allowed the Stand to control you. From the jerky way Karera was moving, the Stand could only move the hands and feet.

The Stand was edging Karera towards the broken plates now, no doubt to slice her remaining hand and foot. You grabbed her arm to yank her back but not before she swung back and smacked you in the face.

“Josuke, get her back from the dishes!”

Together, you and Josuke were able to haul Karera back. You shoved her into the pantry and Josuke yanked the door shut a second later. The three of you were squeezed uncomfortably close in the small space. You tried to ignore it as Karera raised a finger to her lips and pointed at the ceiling.

Angry thumps could be heard above your heads. Footsteps. There had been someone in the villa the entire time, waiting on the second floor. If Josuke had gone up there before you found Karera, he might have seen whoever it was.

“I’m gonna kill that asshole,” you muttered. If your Stand was the power type, you’d have punched through the ceiling by now.

Josuke had pressed himself up against the pantry wall in an effort not to crowd you and Karera. “Are you still being controlled by the Stand?” he asked Karera.

Karera shook her head. “I was trying to figure out how to explain it to you,” she whispered. “I cut myself on something going to the bathroom and I was going to head upstairs when my foot just gave out. I nearly cracked my skull open. I tried to find a bandage or something and that was when I cut my hand. Who keeps knives in kitchen drawers?”

“And thumbtacks in slippers?” you muttered.

“But shouldn’t the Stand still be controlling you?” Josuke said. “If the user is upstairs, its range is pretty far. We haven’t moved that far from where it took over your hand.”

“I knew it was something to do with sound,” said Karera. “The stairs gave a loud creak when I went up, which was when my foot twisted. I started yelling when I cut my hand on the knife and bam, the bastard starts moving it around. The user can’t see us from upstairs. But I think there’s a reason they’re up there instead of dealing with us face to face.”

Josuke frowned, then seemed to understand. “They have to be standing above us.”

“And not only that,” Karera agreed. “They have to be directly above us to control us.”

It made sense. Throwing Karera into the pantry had thrown the Stand user off. They didn’t know where exactly you were anymore. And if they wouldn’t come down to face you if that rendered their Stand useless.

“We gotta get out of here,” you said, and Josuke and Karera nodded.

Josuke eased the pantry door open and the three of you went out, keeping your feet as quiet as possible on the floorboards. You headed back to the front door but Josuke stopped you.

“Not through the front,” he said in a low voice. “The Stand user knows we’re trying to leave. They’ll be waiting right above the front door.”

“There’s a back door right around the corner,” Karera said. You and Josuke followed her through the kitchen, steering clear of the broken dishes. Your eyes darted every which way for anything that might cut you. You and Karera had both lost a hand and a foot. And if the Stand user figured out where you were, both of Josuke’s hands were out of commission.

Karera opened the back door, pausing at the screen door behind it.

“It looks rickety as hell,” she groused. “If it squeaks, the Stand’s gonna be right on top of us.”

“I’ve got it,” said Josuke. You hadn’t noticed before, but as Josuke’s shirt shifted, you saw what looked like a birthmark on the back of his shoulder. A perfect five-pointed star. You watched, fascinated, as a bubble rose out from the birthmark, a star faintly gleaming on its surface. Josuke seemed to be able to control it, as the bubble floated towards the screen door and popped deliberately. When Josuke opened the door, it swung soundlessly on its hinges.

You and Karera stared at Josuke. He shrugged. “Soft and Wet’s ability is to steal something from whatever one of my bubbles pops on. So I stole the sound from the screen door.”

Stealing, huh?

Karera smirked. “And this is where I make the quip about you being able to steal Y/N’s heart.”

Josuke’s ears reddened. You pretended not to have heard. You would punch Karera for that after you got out of the villa.

The sound of a door creaking open made you all freeze. Not the screen door, but—

“Oi, Y/N! You in here? Don’t shoot.”

You, Josuke, and Karera exchanged bewildered glances. What the hell was Joshu doing at the villa?

“I know it’s Morioh, but you still shouldn’t leave your front door unlocked, moron.”

The footsteps overhead picked up suddenly, rushing straight to where Joshu was.

“Forget him,” Karera hissed, pushing you outside. “We need to get out—”

You hurried back inside, pushing past Josuke. Joshu was an idiot, but you’d still feel guilty as hell if he died inside your villa. You spotted him in the foyer, and he scowled when he saw you.

“The hell you running for? Tryna jump me or something—”

“Who told you to come here? You need to get out now.” You pushed Joshu toward the front door. Too late you saw the discarded house slippers, and Joshu stumbled right on top of them.

He screamed. All at once, an enormous pressure pressed down on you, slamming you to the ground. Your head exploded with stars, and when you tried to move, the hand and foot with the symbol felt like they had been nailed to the floor.

“What the fuck? What’s happening?” Joshu shouted.

Using your remaining foot, you kicked out at Joshu, shouting at him to get away. Joshu only stared gape-mouthed as your marked hand flew up towards your throat. You clamped down hard on your windpipe, gasping for breath and finding none. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t pry your hand loose. The bastard was going to kill you with your own hand!

There was a loud thud! from upstairs. You didn’t know what the hell had happened, but it was enough for you to loosen your hand. Joshu looked up as more scuffling could be heard upstairs.

“The hell did you get yourself into?” he asked.

You tried to get up, only for your leg to slip out and slam you back on the ground. Your leg and foot were still under the Stand’s control. Something was going on up there, and whatever the Stand was doing, it still had you tethered.

Your hand and foot kept trying to push up and each time, they slipped out as though the floorboards were iced over. You heard Josuke and Karera coming towards you, and you were about to ask them to help you up when you began sliding away.

“Woah, what the—” Joshu grabbed for you and missed. Inexplicably, you continued sliding down the hall as though the villa were tilting over. You tried to grab for something, screaming just as loud as Karera when she and Josuke had to jump over you to keep from being knocked over. You kept sliding, right through the kitchen, scraping painfully over the broken bowls before crashing spectacularly against the screen door. You would have been more concerned about how you bent the door nearly in half if a man didn’t go sailing over your head outside a second later.

The guy who’d gone flying from the second floor sported a deep tan and shaved blond hair. The clotted blood symbol that had appeared on all of you was the same one he wore on his belt and shoe buckles. He looked about your age, but between falling from the second floor and getting beaten within an inch of his life, he wasn’t looking too hot. Your first thought was that he’d broken into the villa knowing about your fortune, but how could he? He obviously had no clue who you were.

It turned out Josuke had used Soft and Wet to steal friction from the upstairs floor, causing the guy to lose control of his Stand and crash through a window upstairs. What Josuke hadn’t counted on him was the Stand taking you with him, which he apologized profusely for. Joshu had gotten a hold of the situation quick enough and was only too happy to beat the shit out of the blonde guy with Josuke.

As the police hauled the blonde guy off, you still didn’t know why he’d used his Stand on you all. His name was Sasame Ojiro and apparently had a history of harassment. You confirmed with the officers that nothing in the villa had been stolen and none of your friends had sustained life-ending injuries. When you answered that you had no prior connection with Sasame, the police reasoned it could just have been that Sasame had gotten the wrong house. Nonetheless, as the police cruisers faded from view, you had a feeling there was more to it than that, if Karera’s shiftiness and refusal to look in your eyes was any indication.

With Sasame gone, you, Karera and the boys combed through the entire villa. Thankfully, it looked as though Sasame hadn’t made camp in your villa for long. You didn’t find anything amiss upstairs but a rumpled guest bedroom, the window still open from where Sasame had clambered inside. You threw away all the thumbtacks and needles you could find, and with the villa deemed safe, Karera busted out a few packets of instant noodles for a haphazard dinner. Although Karera brushed it off, you were still kicking yourself that you’d made her go to the villa herself. If you had gone together, she wouldn’t have been attacked and none of this would have happened. You shuddered to think about what might have happened if you and Josuke came even a minute later.

When it was all done, it was nearly ten at night. Karera had gone upstairs to sleep. You were clearing up the broken dishes and rooting through the cupboards one last time to make sure there were no surprises for tomorrow. You felt Josuke and Joshu’s presence keenly. The two of them still hadn’t left for some reason.

“You guys can go home now,” you said, closing a drawer. “Thanks for dealing with Sasame and helping out with the villa. It could’ve ended badly if you weren’t there.”

You directed your words mostly to Josuke but Joshu still lathered in the praise. The two of them spoke at the same time.

“I think I should stay over to make sure another crazy Stand user doesn’t come by to kill you.”

“Are you sure everything’s alright? I wouldn’t mind spending the night just in case.”

They both blinked, staring at each other. You took a second to process, then let out an awkward cough. “No, that’s fine. You two go home. Me and Karera have things covered.”

“What if someone else comes by to mug you? You’re gonna get your asses kicked!”

“Is it really safe to stay here alone? You’ve only been in Morioh for a few days.”

Your eye twitched. “I’m going to be fine. And in case you forgot, Karera is upstairs.”

Joshu and Josuke exchanged a look you didn’t like in the slightest. You took both of their arms and dragged them to the front door. “I’ll text you if I need anything. Thank you again. Yes, I’m very sure. Goodnight. Get home safe.” You shoved them outside and closed the door firmly.

“My fiancé is so ungrateful,” Joshu’s muffled grumbling came from the other side of the door. “They just lost a whole night we could have spent together.”

What followed sounded suspiciously like a smack.

“The fuck was that for?”

“Sorry. My hand slipped.”

You rolled your eyes. Flicking off all the lights downstairs, you headed up to your room. You were exhausted, but not exhausted enough to keep from asking Karera about what the hell had happened.

You knocked softly on her door.

“Come on in.”

Karera was sitting on her bed, running her fingers through her long hair as she stared out the window. She’d found a set of pajamas somewhere, the way she always found clothes even though she never packed a thing when you went travelling.

You leaned against the doorframe. “So what happened with Sasame?”

“What do you mean? Besides him trying to kill me?”

“If he wasn’t at the villa waiting for me, he was going for you. He knew who you were. Why? What happened?”

Karera didn’t answer. You crossed the room to the window ledge so she would have to look at you. You stared at each other for a few seconds until Karera sighed and flopped backwards on the bed.

“I was eating lunch at a restaurant and minding my own business when he came up to me. He was buttering me up and asking me to go to the beach with him. I refused. Obviously. He wouldn’t leave me the hell alone, so I used Love Love Deluxe and said my boyfriend would pay for my meal since I found a hair in it. You know how it goes.”

From what little you had seen of Sasame, he definitely seemed like enough of a prick to track down Karera for something like that.

“How did he know where the villa was, though?”

Karera flung her arm over her eyes. “I might have gotten a little overzealous gushing about my rich heir friend.”

You blew out a breath.

“Are you pissed at me?”

“No. Definitely not. I’m just pissed you got harrassed and then attacked because I made you go to the villa alone. I should’ve gone with you. We’ve only been here a few days and I didn’t think to check on you.”

“Oi, none of that.” Karera raised her head to look at you. “This is your vacation, and I’m a grown-ass woman. I don’t need you babying me. You just focus on finding your true love and protecting your fat bank account. How else are we gonna afford this trip otherwise?”

“You could’ve gotten seriously hurt,” you said quietly.

Karera smiled crookedly. “I’ve been on my own for a long time. I can handle a few pervs. You have a literal curse on you. Focus on that instead of worrying about me.”

You knew Karera was whip-smart and had balls of steel. Even if her Stand wasn’t overly powerful, there had never been a problem she hadn’t gotten out of. It had been that way ever since she lost her home and sloughed it out on the streets.

But Karera had been there for you more times than you could count. She kept you on your toes. You would never forgive yourself if something happened to her when you could have done something.

“Get some sleep,” Karera said, wriggling under her blanket. “I found a banger strip club that I’m gonna bring you to.”

You stifled the urge to tousle Karera’s hair. She hated that. Instead, you turned on her room light suddenly, making Karera shriek, and slammed the door behind you.

“Love you too,” you called.

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#okoshijjl #jjba #jojos bizarre adventure #jjba x reader #jojolion #jojolion x reader #gender neutral reader

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cophene · 19 days

Note

DISC WAS SO GOOD MY LOVE ILYSM OMG I HOPE BOTH SIDES OF YOUR PILLOW AEE COLD, YOU NEVER HAVE A BAD HAIR DAY, HOPE YOU HAVE THE GREATEST YEAR AHEAD YOU NEVER LOSE ANYTHING THE UNIVERSE IS W YOU IN EVERYTHING YOU GET WHAT YOU WANT MWAHHHHHHH

i loved every but of it and was jumping giggling blushing twirling my hair when u saw an update

i loved the interactions, the whole mood the jokes the dialogues and how you portrayed every relation

it was realistic not delusional so that was refreshing

my fav were the twins 💅 they had that sass and their interactions cracked me up💀

SO YEAH I LOVED IT AND THANK YOU FOR WRITING IT

BYEE💖💕💞💝💓😚🎀🩷😋

haha thank you! you're too kind smh. in my fics, i like to make sure the delusion is balanced with realism at least half of the time ;)

i also love the twins. their sass gives me life.

thank you so much for reading!! i loved all of your comments lmao i hope you have nothing but good things too :DD

#pinkpearlstar #pacespeaks #disce is finally done #can't wait to see what I cook up next >:)

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cophene · 21 days

Text

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄 | ohshc; author's note.

table of contents

There we have it. 24 chapters later, we are at the end of Disce.

Of course I have to thank Bisco Hatori and everyone responsible for bringing OHSHC together. Even if we never get that second season, we did at least get one and the manga did things to my heart, not going to lie. Major props to them for making me giggle and kick my feet in the air.

Inspiration for this fic probably came from reading other people’s fics. One good thing about being part of an older fandom is the wealth of fanwork you can find, and all of the fics and fanart fed me well.

My main goal for this fic was to write something light and fluffy and just to spend some time vibing with the Host Club. I just wanted to get my feet wet and see what writing for OHSHC would be like. I wanted to get a feel for the characters and how to write their dynamics. I hope I was able to find a balance between the ridiculousness OHSHC is known for and some of the deeper characterization. Some of my favourite moments from the series was when we got to take a step back and see all of the hosts outside of the club. While I didn’t include much of that in this fic, it’s definitely something I’d like to explore.

Adding on to that, because this fic is a various x reader (sorta haha), I didn’t get to delve as much into the characters as I would have liked. All of the characters have interesting backgrounds and family dynamics that I think would be fun to get into. In the future, I’d probably dedicate a separate fic for each host so we can see more of them outside of the club. Aspects like Kyoya being the youngest child, Tamaki’s relationship with his father, the twins’ and their identity … there’s some good stuff. I’d love to dive into it :’)

Regardless, I tried to incorporate a bit of the hosts’ backstory into the fic as much as I could. It would have been nice to explore everyone more in-depth, but then this fic would have been massive and gone on forever. Oh well.

I had a great time writing this fic. I loved thinking up new interactions for everyone and just describing their day to day activities. I especially loved writing for Hikaru and Kyoya. They’re probably at least a little out of character, but the sass was non negotiable. I also found that roping Renge into it all was necessary. Sometimes I forget she’s part of the Host Club but she always makes me laugh.

Also in the future, I’d like to include more characters from OHSHC besides the hosts. Ranka, Kasanoda, Nekozawa… I have a feeling I could make some chaos for them >:).

Thank you so much for reading this fic! Whether you were here from the beginning or you’re just stopping by, thank you for giving me a bit of your time. I appreciated every comment and heart this fic got. I hope this fic made you smile :DD

Let me know if you have any questions about the fic or have anything you might want to say.Hopefully I’ll see you in some of my other fics. But if not, thank you again for reading. Here’s to more OHSHC to come.

— from pace with love.

#disceohshc

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cophene · 21 days

Text

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄 | ohshc; twenty-four.

* • ° protocol concerning broken hearts

previous chapter || author's note || table of contents

pairing : ohshc x gn reader summary : perhaps no one at ouran is more qualified to deal with a broken heart than the host club. with a student’s heartbreak painfully obvious to everyone but themself, the host club takes it upon themselves to remedy that. all against that student’s better judgement. notes : multi-chapter fic, sfw, doesn’t follow canon plot word count : 2.5k+

You had made it very clear that you didn’t want anything out of the ordinary for your last day at the Host Club. You just wanted to go about club activities like usual and maybe have a small announcement at the end of the day that you would no longer be a host. The Mori debacle had thankfully died out over the weekend; you didn’t want to stir things up again. Just a nice, quiet afternoon with the Host Club before you ducked out.

But you knew as soon as you opened the music room doors and a swirl of confetti that greeted you that you would not be having a nice, quiet afternoon.

“Happy Last Day!” The cheer was so loud you actually stumbled back a step. You opened the door wider to find the music room absolutely packed. Every single one of the Host Club’s guests must have shown up today.

There was raucous applause and cheering, and more confetti rained down on you. A piece stabbed you in the eye and you swore under your breath.

In a choreographed movement, the crowd parted down the middle, revealing a scarlet carpet running length of the room. At its end was Tamaki, sprawled over a throne like an errant prince.

He smiled at you, his violet eyes gleaming. Extending a graceful hand, he said, “Come forward, my fair knight.”

Well. This was something.

You shuffled forward, only now realizing that everyone was in various states of royal dress, wide dresses and cravats and waistcoats. Kyoya wasn’t going to scold you for forgetting your costume, was he? You hadn’t even known you were supposed to dress up today.

You finally stopped in front of Tamaki, your scalp prickling from the weight of everyone’s stares. Fanned out on either side of Tamaki were the hosts, their armour practically blinding you. If the twins were supposed to have given you your own suit of armour, they hadn’t delivered.

Someone coughed pointedly. You glanced around, then noticed Renge mouthing at you to kneel. You did so.

“You have served us well during your tenure here,” Tamaki began. His voice rang around the room. “In your time as our Tragic Host, you have upheld the tenets of the Host Club, consistently displaying the qualities of an engaging, considerate host. You have been kind and courteous, and no one can deny that you have been a paragon of manner and class.”

Your mouth twitched. This sounded familiar. Kyoya had probably written this script for Tamaki, even though you had never once cracked open his obscenely large handbook folder.

Tamaki caught your eye and seemed to hide a laugh.

“You have been a joy to have around, and we’ll be sad to see you go. We wish you the best in all of your future endeavours. You will always have a place here at the Host Club.”

You just managed to stifle a gasp as Kyoya languidly passed Tamaki a sword. He lightly rested the blade on each of your shoulders before bidding you to rise.

“Henceforth you will bear the seal of the Host Club. Let it be known that you will always be under our protection, no matter the circumstance.”

Everyone broke out into applause as the twins stepped forward and slipped a sash over your head. It was a bizarre mix between beauty pageant and medieval knighting, but you decided not to question it.

An expectant hush descended on the room as you turned to face the crowd. You didn’t have anything prepared, but it seemed right to say something just then.

“Well, um, hey everyone. I’m L/N Y/N, but if you've been around lately, you probably know me as the Tragic Type host.” How did Keiji just get up and do this everyday? It was too difficult to face the guests, so you turned around to look at the hosts instead.

“I actually joined the Host Club while I was having a pretty rough time. I wasn’t feeling the greatest, and that’s where my host persona came from. If I’m being honest, there were some times when I wasn’t acting, and I genuinely was feeling that miserable.

“The Host Club thought they would be able to help me. That they would help me feel like myself again. I never believed them. To be honest, they seemed like the last people who should be helping me.”

A few guests laughed. Haruhi smiled but Renge looked furious.

“But the more time I spent with the Host Club, the more I realized that they were serious. They’re perceptive and considerate and caring. They push you when you need to be, but they look out for you. They’ll have your back and make you laugh and they’ll just—” Your tongue stalled for a beat as it hit you all at once. Everything the Host Club had done for you, intentional or otherwise. You hadn’t realized it, but the moment you had stepped into Music Room 3, the entire Host Club had been in your corner.

“They’ll put you back together again,” you said, probably too quietly for anyone but the hosts to hear. “They’ll believe in you.”

Honey and Renge were trying not to cry. Mori might have sniffled but you had probably imagined it. Kaoru was hiding his mouth behind his hand and Hikaru was staring fixedly at his shoes. Haruhi’s smile trembled and for once, Kyoya actually seemed to admire what you were saying.

And Tamaki’s expression was so full of feeling it tugged on your heart.

“Thank you for everything, guys,” you said, smiling wide. “You and this ridiculous club.”

And then, before any tears started flowing, you clapped your hands together. “Alright, enough of the sappiness. Let’s get on with the hosting.”

You found Renge near the windows, fanning herself with a hilariously large fan. You remembered wanting to curse her name into the ground but now you felt a stilted affection for her. Like how you felt about a prickly tarantula, maybe.

“Renge, can I hug you?”

Renge made a face. “Heavens, no. That would be unseemly for a society lady.”

You scoffed and pulled Renge into a hug. She protested weakly but hugged you back.

“You know, if it weren’t for you, I never would have joined the Host Club.”

“I know. You should name your firstborn after me.”

“That is a no, but regardless, thank you for being manipulative and guilt tripping me.”

“You’re welcome!” Renge blinked. “Wait, what?”

You laughed. “I owe you one, Renge.”

“Why don’t you just fall in love with another devastating young man with beautiful hair? Then we could do this all over again.”

“I will never understand what goes on in that head of yours.”

“It’s part of my feminine mystique.”

“It’s part of something alright.”

You had to wait for the perfect moment, but at last, Hikaru propped his elbow on Kaoru’s shoulder like you knew he would and you pounced, wrestling the two of them into one of your volleyball tackles.

“Since when are you allowed to kill people on your last day?” Kaoru gasped.

“Manslaughter is not going to look good on your record,” Hikaru wheezed.

You tousled the twins’ hair, probably harder than strictly necessary. “I might actually miss you two during volleyball season. I won’t have anyone to harass my sanity anymore.”

“It was our pleasure,” Karou said with mock gravitas.

“It was our duty, actually,” Hikaru sniffed.

The twins twisted out of your grasp. You watched, amused, as they both flipped a cap onto their heads.

“We realize you never got to do this—” one of the twins said,

“—so let’s play the Which One is Hikaru Game!” the other twin finished.

“Oh no,” you said flatly. “I can’t see which way you parted your hair. How will I ever know who is who?”

The twins each raised an eyebrow. You shook your head, smiling, then pointed to the left. “Well, I guess this one is Kaoru, and this one is Hikaru. Hikaru is going to tell me I’m wrong, and then Kaoru is going to tell me to try again.”

The twins looked at each other.

“You can really tell, can’t you?” Kaoru said softly.

You gave a jaunty shrug. “Nope. Just a lucky guess.”

As soon as Haruhi’s guest left, you slipped into the seat across from her. Her face brightened as she reached for the pot of tea but you beat her to it.

“You’re always the one pouring tea. Let me do it for once.”

“So it’s your last day,” she said, accepting the cup and saucer you gave her. “How are you feeling?”

“I wasn’t expecting to be knighted, but honestly, I’m not too sad. I’ll still stop by to visit you guys. And despite everything, you’re still my favourite host, Haruhi.”

Haruhi smiled into her cup. “I’m flattered.”

“You shouldn’t be. There’s a reason the “natural” type is so popular.” You smirked. “I can barely find time to talk to you most days.”

“Actually listening to people goes a long way. Most people just want someone there so they can talk.”

“You’re a great listener,” you said quietly. “You actually think about what people say and you’re never judgemental. I could talk to you for hours.”

Haruhi looked at you, her eyes wide. You still thought she had beautiful eyes. They were a reflection of everything she didn’t say.

“I wanted to thank you for being there for me. You got me through a lot of this Keiji stuff--the pillar of reason. I hope the Host Club knows it would fall apart if it weren’t for you.”

Haruhi looked off to the side. “Don’t give me too much credit. Most days I’m not doing anything special.”

“But it’s always more than enough,” you said. You rose from your seat to squeeze her into a side hug.

“Maybe I should buy one of your pencils from the club auction site so I can you’re really my favourite host.”

“Please don’t,” Haruhi said, pained. “No wonder my pencils keep going missing.”

“I saved you a pastry, Y/N-chan!”

You took the plate from Honey with a grin. “I’m going to miss this. They don’t feed me half as well on the volleyball team.”

“They don’t feed you at all on the volleyball team,” Mori said.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you sure you’re okay, big guy? I feel like I might have dislodged your brains when I fell on you at the gala. You’ve been acting extremely out of character.”

“He was just tired,” Honey insisted. “He’s all back to normal now, right, Taka-chan?”

Mori shrugged. You thought he might have been hiding a smile.

You bit into the flaky pastry and sighed. “I guess I’m supposed to thank the two of you for dragging into the Host Club, huh?”

“I told you everything would work out!” Honey said brightly. “You kept doubting me! If you had given up, you would still be hung up about Keiji!”

“You don’t know that. I probably would have been fine. I definitely wouldn’t have suffered so much public embarrassment.”

“Embarrassment never killed anyone,” Mori said. You punched his arm.

“Don’t act like half of that embarrassment wasn’t your fault. Anyway, I’m not too wrung up about the two of you. We’re literally going to see each other during Math tomorrow.”

“But you won’t be a host anymore,” Honey said, pouting. “You’re always so busy during volleyball season. We barely ever get to see you.”

“I’ll try my best to visit. Maybe you guys could even come to one of my games? I bet my coach would like the turnout.”

“That would be fun! I’m a great cheerleader!”

You ruffled Honey’s hair. “For sure.”

Honey ran off then to refill his plate. You were about to get up too when Mori brushed your arm.

“About what happened.”

You tried to hide your spike of nervousness. “Yeah?”

Mori’s gaze was steady. “I didn’t … I didn’t dislike what happened.”

You stared at Mori. He stared at you back and for beat, the two of you were the only ones in the room.

You pulled on a rakish grin. “I hope you’re not saying what I think you’re saying.”

Mori’s smile was faintly amused. “What am I saying?”

“I don’t really know. But maybe I should find out.”

“Maybe you should.”

You didn’t get a chance to talk to Tamaki or Kyoya until the day was over and guests began clearing out of the music room. As it were, the three of you waved the final guests goodbye, and once Kyoya greeted the crew responsible for dismantling everything, you all left the academy.

“So what’s my status now?” you asked, Tamaki and Kyoya walking on either side of you. “Honorary Host? Esteemed Guest? You did say I would always have a place in the Host Club.”

“Of course! We can’t have our Tragic Host abandoning us completely!” Tamaki cried.

Kyoya nodded. “You’ll be able to enjoy a twenty-percent discount for each visit.”

“You’re kidding. I still have to pay? I’m practically one of you guys!”

“If you aren’t a host, you’re a guest. Guests are required to pay.”

“Tamaki!” you whined.

Tamaki squinted at Kyoya. “Well, I suppose if you were to use the Black Magic Room to get into the music room, no one could stop you.”

“This is too much work. I’ll just never visit then.”

“Suit yourself,” Kyoya said coldly. Tamaki made a wounded noise.

Something nudged the back of your mind. You thought it was a silly thing to ask, especially now that everything had wrapped up, but you would always wonder if you didn’t ask.

“I have a question for the two of you.”

“Will horrors never cease?” Kyoya deadpanned.

You bit the inside of your cheek. “I mean, maybe I’m thinking about this wrong, but with your heartbreak treatment—did any of that have to do with—did you want to make me fall in love with you?”

Tamaki and Kyoya exchanged glances. A blush began creeping up Tamaki’s face.

“Y/N, do you know what the true purpose of the Host Club is?” Kyoya asked carefully.

“Not in any polite terms, no,” you replied, to which Kyoya rolled his eyes.

“When I first created the club, I only had one goal,” Tamaki said, his voice rueful. He smiled bashfully when you looked at him. “I just wanted to make people happy. That was all.”

It was a ridiculously simple answer that shouldn’t have justified anything. But somehow, it did.

The three of you reached the front entrance. You raised a hand to block the afternoon sunlight.

“If nothing else, I’ll at least give you credit where it’s due. You really did manage to heal my broken heart.”

Tamaki gaped at you. Kyoya’s eyes gleamed triumphantly.

“I’m going to need you to say that again,” he said. “For the record.”

“Is this going into your obscenely large handbook?”

“Of course. I’ve been writing out a protocol concerning broken hearts. You’re going to be the validating evidence.”

“But you didn’t know what you were doing. Mori said I was your first case.”

Kyoya wasn’t smug. He looked pleased. Maybe even happy.

“I had perfect confidence that we would be successful,” he said.

disce end.

─────

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#disceohshc #ohshc x reader #ohshc #ouran high school host club #ouran host club #gender neutral reader

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cophene · 22 days

Text

032 || ☆ ⁺ « STILL A SPACE FOR HIM.

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★˚⋆ HE’S LIKE SOME KIND OF OLD, eye-patch Sleeping Beauty.”

You just managed to catch yourself from slapping Narancia upside the head. Mista snorted. Fugo sighed from where he was bent over the healing pod console.

“Is he going to be alright?” Bruno asked, hovering by the foot of the healing pod.

“Should be,” Fugo murmured. “He was only hit with a tranquilizer dart. Whoever shot him didn’t want him dead.”

“He was still shot, though,” Abbacchio pointed out.

“It’s likely they just wanted to incapacitate him to get the Stand Arrow. They probably needed him to tell them what to do.”

Polnareff was currently in one of your ship’s healing pods, an oxygen mask over his face. You were glad he hadn’t keeled over dead back on the ferry. You were on the last leg of the job. You couldn’t afford for anything to go wrong.

Arrangements had been made with Zero. He had been neither glad nor excited to hear that you had the Stand Arrow. All he’d told you was to meet his ship at Bend Gate I. Maybe he was saving the excitement for when the Arrow was actually in his hand. That was fine. Right now, you could be excited enough for the both of you.

Your entire body thrummed with the need to see the Arrow. To hold it and assure yourself that it was real, that all of this had been worth it. So far, though, Bruno had been keeping the case on his person, and you didn’t want to have to ask him to see it.

You didn’t want to talk to him at all if you could help it.

“There’s nothing to do but let the tranquilizer get out of his system,” Fugo said finally, pushing back from the console. “He should be good to meet with Zero by the time we get to Bend Gate I. He’s otherwise unharmed.”

Bruno breathed an audible sigh of relief. “Thank you, Fugo. You’re always good in a crisis.”

Fugo looked uncomfortable. “It’s no problem.”

“We should leave Polnareff to rest, then,” Trish said. “Let’s go talk in the galley.”

“Oh, Narancia,” Bruno said. “Why don’t you leave Coco Jumbo back here? Polnareff might want to talk to it once he wakes up.”

[ I DON’T HAVE ANY DESIRE TO TALK TO SOMEONE WHO ABANDONED ME. ] Coco Jumbo said with a touch of disdain.

“He created you, though,” Mista said.

[ I WOULD PREFER NOT TO THINK ABOUT THAT. ]

Bruno looked amused. It was such a familiar expression you had to look away. “I’m sure if you give him the time, Dr. Polnareff will fully explain the circumstances around you, Coco. He talked about you often. He holds you in very high esteem.”

Coco said nothing to that. Nonetheless, it allowed Narancia to set him on the table next to Polnareff’s healing pod.

“You talk to Coco like it’s alive, Bruno,” Trish said. “You don’t find that a little weird? It’s just a computer.”

“I have a habit of thinking about anything that can talk as alive, I guess,” replied Bruno. “It’s an easy mistake to make, considering how much personality Coco has.”

Everyone filed out of the med bay and to the galley. You hung back, watching Mista sling his arm over Bruno’s shoulder, and Narancia start laughing at something he said. Fugo nodded when Bruno directed a question at him, and Trish actually blushed while asking a question. It threw you off, the way your crew could still act this way around Bruno. Comfortable. Familiar. Like Bruno hadn’t been gone all of this time, and you had just been waiting for him to come back.

Bruno still fit with the crew. Not completely, but there was still a space for him. You felt betrayed, somehow, because you had spent so long trying to move on from his absence.

He had left. Not disappeared. And it was a difference only you were aware of.

Nearby, JoJo’s confusion and Abbacchio’s curiosity were palpable. At least not everyone was glad Bruno was back. You wouldn’t have been able to take it if they were.

“Who is that?” JoJo asked gingerly, looking sidelong at Bruno. “I thought he was just a guide back on Tritus.”

“He’s a former crew member of Passione. The Captain’s right-hand man.” Abbacchio answered for you. He gave you a look. “He disappeared a while back. Most people assumed he died.”

JoJo’s eyes widened. “Really? Then what’s he doing back?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” you muttered.

“Are you … I mean, can we trust him? Does he know we’re working for Zero?” JoJo asked.

“What are his goals exactly?” Abbacchio said. “He wouldn’t be back unless he wanted something. Not after being gone for so long.”

You scowled. “Ask him yourself. How am I supposed to know?”

Once your crew arrived in the galley, Trish and Mista went off to grab drinks and snacks for everyone. You felt a pang as everyone unconsciously resumed the positions you’d taken so long ago. There was a seat open between Mista and Bruno, one you would have taken without thought. Now it only made you uncomfortable.

You opted to squeeze in next to JoJo and Trish instead. She gave you a confused look, but thankfully, no one said anything.

Once everyone had a carton of Coco Jumbo in front of them, they looked at you expectantly. You remained stubbornly silent. You’d thrown everything you had to say Bruno away already. You’d resolved yourself to the fact that he would never hear it anyway.

Mista cleared his throat. “So … Bucciarati. You’re back.”

Bruno smiled. “Yes. For now, at least.”

Narancia made a noise and Fugo glared at him. Looking at him, Bruno’s forehead creased.

“Narancia, what happened to your eye?”

“What, this?” Narancia pointed to the bandage around his eye. “Oh, you know…”

“He had an eye infection and never told anyone,” Fugo said curtly. “Now it’s so bad he’ll need a cybernetic.”

“Fugo! What the flack?”

“It’s what happened. Haven’t you already hidden it for long enough? You would think we’d find out before you crashed our ship.”

“I didn’t crash anything! I just—”

“Speaking of which, how is the Passione?” Bruno interrupted. He was still the defuser, even now. He glanced around the galley. “It looks different than I remember.”

You’ve been gone a long time. What do you still remember? you nearly snapped, but managed to restrain yourself.

“We had a situation,” Trish said, waving her hand. “This isn’t really the Passione anymore. Just a ship that looks like her.”

Bruno’s face fell a little bit. You couldn’t help feeling happy about that. Even if Bruno had named the Passione, that didn’t mean it was still around.

“I don’t think I properly introduced myself,” Bruno said to JoJo. “Everyone here knows me as Bruno Bucciarati. I was a former member of the crew. What’s your name?”

“You’re still a member!” Narancia exclaimed. “We’re glad to have you back, Bucciarati! You’ll always be one of us!”

You clenched the carton of Coco Jumbo in your hands.

“It’s nice to meet you,” JoJo murmured, reaching across the table to shake Bruno’s hand. “My name is JoJo. I only joined the crew recently.”

“You have a Stand ability?” Bruno asked casually. JoJo blinked at this, taken off-guard.

“Uh, yeah. I guess I do.”

Bruno nodded at this. “That’s good.” Then he turned his attention to Abbacchio. “And what are you doing here, Inspector? I have to admit I nearly got a heart attack, seeing you just standing there.”

Abbacchio glanced at you. “The Captain and I reached an agreement. We’re working together for the time being. All of this is strictly off the record.”

“Is that so? I never would have guessed.” Bruno took a long drink from his milk carton. “What are you up to right now? Why get involved with Coco Jumbo and Dr. Polnareff and the Stand Arrow?”

And so, in stops and stars, one person butting in where another cut off and at times, everyone yelling over one another, the story of how your crew accepted a job came to light. You were embarrassed that your crew had to admit how empty your credit account had gotten and how much you’d struggled. What Bruno thought of this, he made no sign. In fact, he barely reacted at all. He kept his face carefully neutral, and you wanted nothing more than to punch it.

Why couldn’t he just give you the Stand Arrow and leave? Disappear like he’d done all this time?

The one thing you were grateful for was that everyone carefully made sure not to mention Zero by name. He was just someone rich interested in the Arrow. Also someone capable and competent enough to deal with the Arrow. Everyone seemed to know that Bruno would be opposed to handing over the Arrow to Zero, and you couldn’t afford to delay.

“... and that’s basically it,” Mista finished. “That’s why we need the Arrow.”

“I’d expect nothing less from you all,” Bruno said. He sounded almost fond. “It seems like you haven’t changed at all.”

“We’re thieves. We steal,” said Narancia, shrugging. “It was only a matter of time until we started going after the Stand Arrow.”

“We’re all Stand users, after all,” Trish agreed.

“But what happened to you?” Fugo asked. “How are you back? We had no idea where you went.”

The words were like needles. You kept your gaze on the table, unable to look at anyone.

“You don’t really want to hear about that,” Bruno said. “It doesn’t really matter.”

“We thought you were dead!” Trish said. “Do you have any idea how glad we are that you’re back? Of course we want to know. Whatever you’re willing to share.”

Mista punched Bruno’s shoulder. “We have time. All we’re doing is waiting to get to the Bend Gate. Plus Asswipe and JoJo are just curious as we are.”

You could feel Bruno’s eyes on you. You didn’t look up. It was his story. He didn’t need your permission.

“You all probably know that one of the escape pods was mistakenly ejected while I was working on repairs,” Bruno hesitantly began.

“Yeah, about that. What made you think that was a good idea?” Narancia cut in. “Even I wouldn’t have been brave enough to do repairs by myself. The buddy system and all that, you know?”

“I thought it was going to be an easy repair. I wouldn’t have gone out otherwise.”

He was lying straight to their faces. This was the narrative he was going to stick with, you realized. He would never tell them that he had meant to abandon them. That he wanted nothing to do with the crew.

Bruno had wanted to leave Passione. He’d wanted to leave so badly he’d been content to fake his own death. This fake story he was spinning put a bitter taste in your mouth.

You hated him for it. You hated that Bruno was here at all. You didn’t really know what loyalty made you keep quiet. You could out him in front of the entire crew. They deserved to know the kind of self-centred, backstabbing flackbag he really was.

“A passing ship flagged down my escape pod a few hours after. They were kind enough to allow me passage with them to the nearest planet. There, I tried to make contact with you, but I was caught by the Galactic Authorities.”

You almost snorted. Abbacchio’s jaw twitched, but he said nothing to refute this. It seemed like he was going to play along too.

“I was retained for some time. The GA’s questioned me thoroughly, offered to pardon my crimes if I told them where all of you were. I refused.”

“You should have told them!” Trish said. “Even if we were all caught, we could have helped you escape.”

“You didn’t use Sticky Fingers to escape?” Fugo asked, slightly suspicious.

“They had very strict security on me. And even if I managed to escape, I had no way of contacting all of you without tipping off the GA’s.

“After a few weeks, I reached an agreement with the GA’s. They seemed to believe me when I said I had no idea where you were. Which was true. I didn’t.” Bruno smiled ruefully. “They allowed me to go on the condition that I would never return to Passione or make contact with you. If I did, they would arrest both myself and my father.”

“Bastards,” Mista hissed.

“I hope you can understand. I would have done anything to find you all again, but I couldn’t let anything happen to my father. I was forced to stay away, and for that, I apologize.”

Everyone was really buying this, weren’t they? Since when had everyone become so gullible?

“My father and I relocated. I found work with Dr. Polnareff on Tritus. And I’ve been there ever since.” Bruno shook his head. “Sometimes, when I was feeling bold, I would find an article or newscast about you. You don’t know how much I missed you all.”

You looked around at the crew. Narancia was pressing a fist to his mouth and Trish’s eyes were misty. Fugo was looking down at his lap and Mista had his eyes closed, breathing deeply.

You had to leave. You couldn’t watch this. It was one thing for Bruno to lie, but to do it to the crew who had trusted him like family?

“I think I’m going to turn in now,” you said, rising from your chair. “Let me know when we get to the Bend Gate.”

“You’re leaving?” Narancia said.

“Just tired. I’m going to try to get what rest I can.”

You left the galley before anyone could say anything else. Once you were in your own quarters, your thoughts were too scrambled to sleep.

You couldn’t think about Bruno. You just had to focus on the Stand Arrow and Zero. They were the only things that mattered. Everything else could be dealt with later.

You wished there was a faster way to get to Zero. How pleased would he be? How grateful? All of this would be worth it as long as he was happy with you.

Just as you were drifting off, there was a knock at your door. You were tempted to ignore it, but reluctantly sat up and crossed the room to answer.

It was Bruno. You nearly shut the doors in his face.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” you said coldly. “You might be on my ship but you are not one of my crew. I don’t owe anything to you.”

Bruno leaned his shoulder against the doorframe—a deliberate motion to keep you from sliding the doors shut. “I know that. But what about as a friend? Do you owe me anything then?”

You clenched your jaw. You let him into your room, if only so that your conversation wouldn’t disturb the rest of the crew.

“You have some nerve coming here and acting like everything is fine,” you said in a low, seething tone. “I can’t believe you would betray the crew’s trust like this. Why don’t you tell them the truth? Why don’t you tell them that you abandoned them and never thought to come back? The ones who treated you like family? Who always had your back? Who would’ve done anything to get you back?”

Bruno’s face tightened into a frown. “You let me go, Captain. I think you’re forgetting that.”

“I’m not your Captain anymore, you flackbag.”

“I made a request to leave and you granted it. I don’t know what you’re so upset about.”

“I didn’t expect you to leave like a coward. You didn’t tell anyone. You made it look like an accident. You had every opportunity to reach out and explain what happened and you didn’t.”

“I knew you weren’t going to let me go. I could tell you wanted me to tell everyone so that they would make me feel guilty and change my mind.”

“You should feel guilty! You turned your back on the people who trusted you most!”

Bruno threw up his hands. “I didn’t leave because I hated the crew! You have no idea how much I cared about the crew. How much I still care. You have to stop acting like I left because I wanted to betray everyone. I left because I was unhappy. There was nothing you or anyone could have done to change that.”

You stopped short. You didn’t know what to say to that.

“Even though I cared about you and the crew, I wasn’t completely happy. I knew, deep down, that stealing wouldn’t be a long term commitment for me. I grew up near the sea. My entire life before Passione revolved around the sea. I missed it like a physical ache some days. It’s where I truly belong. It’s where I’m really happy. Even if I missed the crew, I missed the sea more. And besides, I knew you would be fine without me. I wouldn’t have left if I knew it would leave you at a disadvantage.”

“But it did—”

“You’ve got along just fine without me. I did what I could but I could tell you didn’t really need me.”

“We did need you. You were the one who kept all of us together. Do you know how hard it is to plan things without you? To carry out heists and escape and—” You swallowed. “I didn’t know how to act without you there.” That was all you could get out. You couldn’t say everything else. How much you’d missed his presence, his faithfulness, his steadfastness. You couldn’t say there had been a time when you had been convinced…

That the two of you might been something more.

Bruno turned away. “You make people feel needed. That’s a part of your job, Captain. But I wasn’t needed. You didn’t even follow the last bit of advice I gave you.”

“You mean the job with Zero? It’s going completely fine. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to worry about? Look around you. You’re making mistakes you never make. You lost the ship. Went into the Black Zone. Got swindled. Blackmailed. Followed. You’re never this sloppy. Zero’s already got his hold on you and you don’t even know it.”

“Don’t talk about things you don’t know. You weren’t there. You don’t know half of what this job is.”

“Don’t I? I worked for Zero, Captain. You’re handing one of the most powerful weapons in the galaxy to a madman. You should be horrified. Instead, you’re falling over yourself to hand over the Stand Arrow. Since when do you act like that? Since when do you steal things for buyers that will cause harm?”

“Zero isn’t going to cause harm. He’s a capable, intelligent man who’s going to safeguard the Arrow and prevent it from falling into the wrong hands!” You could feel your chest getting hot. “You should be ashamed for thinking about Zero that way. After everything he’s done!”

Bruno stared at you. His blue eyes darkened as he seemed to realize something.

“Captain, don’t tell me—”

A wave of exhaustion rolled over you, so powerful that you swayed on your feet. Dark spots crowded your vision and you didn’t have the energy to straighten yourself as you fell back.

Despite everything, Bruno caught you before you hit the floor.

His voice was urgent. “Are you alright? Tell me what’s wrong.”

Your eyelids were like a set dumb bells. All of your limbs went numb. You were so tired. All you wanted to do was sleep.

“Bruno … I think … I think—”

Your head lolled to the side and your body went lax as you slipped into unconsciousness.

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#kismetva #jjba #jjba x reader #jjba fanfic #golden wind #golden wind x reader #vento aureo #vento aureo x reader #gender neutral reader #sci fi au

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cophene · 24 days

Text

009 | tour gone by.

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★ . . . SAILOR HAT SAT YOU DOWN on a bench outside of the café. Your thoughts clashed together in your head, the most pressing of which was your now-separated hand. It was currently shoved up your blazer sleeve and you knew it would only be a matter of time until the people in the café reported you for leaving your booth behind like a horror movie set.

“What are you gonna do with all the blood?” Joshu asked just as you were thinking it.

You grimaced. “If this guy—” you nodded at Sailor Hat, “—is the one with my task, then once I start it, my hands and arms should reattach themselves. My Stand treats the injuries as though they never happened. That should take care of the blood. Probably.”

“Then we should get going,” Sailor Hat said, a frown settling on his face. Did you really know this guy? You would never forget a pretty face as his.

“Yeah, right. Y/N doesn’t even know who you are,” Joshu snapped. You were surprised he had noticed. He shoved Daiya forward. “Hurry up and give their memories back, moron. Who told you to use California King Bed on them?”

Daiya blinked rapidly. You instantly felt bad at the tears on her lashes. “I didn’t mean to hurt them. If they had just told me their Stand was attacking them, I would’ve given their memories back immediately.”

“That must have been hard when they couldn’t remember what the goddamn task was,” Joshu said. Even though he was saying everything you had been thinking, you still thought he could be nicer about it. Why couldn’t you have lost your memories about him?

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Daiya said. She grasped your hands, her dark eyes misty. “I really didn’t know I was hurting you. You should have said something. I just wanted to spend a day together with you since you mentioned that curse and everything. I thought there might be a chance I could be your true love.” Daiya’s voice went tiny and you had to strain to make out the rest of her sentence.

Joshu scoffed. “Sorry to break it to you, but you already lost your chance. Y/N is going to fall for me and that’s that. You’re lucky I don’t beat your ass for nearly killing my fiancé.”

Daiya gaped at her brother. Josuke shielded his eyes under his sailor hat and the mortification you felt should have fried all your internal organs.

“You …” Daiya looked between you and Joshu. You expected her to start protesting but her entire face brightened.

“I didn’t know you were such a romantic, Joshu! That’s so cute! You only just met but you fell in love with them at first sight!” Daiya let out a girlish squeal. “It’s exactly like that one anime I watched. The miserable loner falls for the mysterious heir! And, Josuke, that means you’re the hotter, secondary love interest! The show makes it out that you’re the better character, but everyone knows the loner will win out!” Daiya added to her brother’s stone-face.

“It’s nothing like that,” Josuke said quickly. “I’m not trying to get anyone to fall in love with me.”

“That’s what they all say,” Daiya sighed.

“Daiya,” you gritted out as a spurt of blood painted your shoulder crimson. “My memories, please?”

“Right, right. Sorry.” Daiya searched the ground for your shadow and tapped it with the toe of her shoe. The chess pieces in her pocket burst into the air, a crack splintering the pieces in half. White mist escaped the pieces, rushing towards you in a wispy stream. You gasped as it literally came back to you all at once. Josuke, the boy you’d met yesterday. Karera, arguably the best friend you’d known forever. You gasped, hunching as the memories filled your head. It felt like a nasty itch had finally been scratched and you breathed a sigh of relief as everything settled.

You exchanged a relieved look with Josuke. Josuke. We met at the fruit parlour. He rolled a nine. My task is to go sightseeing with him today. Actually remembering the task seemed to satiate your Stand somewhat, as your hand and arm reattached with audible snaps. Your blazer went back to its powder blue and there might have been gasps from the café as the blood near your booth suddenly evaporated. Your Stand could be a bitch sometimes, but at least it could do that.

“We should really get going,” Josuke said, glancing at his watch. You liked that he actually used one instead of his phone. “It’s already past twelve.”

You felt a twinge in your fingers. “You don’t have to tell me twice. I just want to get this task over with.” You winced, realizing how that sounded. Josuke seemed to understand your meaning though, because he shrugged good-naturedly.

“Daiya, are you going to be okay going back home by yourself?” you asked. Any anger you might have felt fizzled out when you saw the careful expression on her face. A flash of disappointment quickly masked by cheerfulness.

“You don’t need to worry about me. I’ve got the streets all memorized back to the mansion.”

“And Dad would kill me if I didn’t take you home.” Joshu cuffed his sister’s ear. “Come on. I bet you rode your janky bike here, didn’t you?”

“Shouldn’t you be focused on getting Y/N to fall for you?”

“You act like I even have to try. Josuke can have his day, but I’ve got my own ways to win them over. Don’t you worry about that.” Joshu ignored the stink-eye you leveled his way. He was actually serious about this, wasn’t he?

Daiya giggled. “This is always my favourite part. When the heir denies their blossoming feelings!”

The only blossoming feelings here were crippling embarrassment and indignation that Joshu thought you would fall over yourself to get with him. You would give him a chance because you didn’t want to self-sabotage yourself, but goddamn, did he make it hard.

As Daiya and Joshu turned away, you caught her face falling again. You called her name and she looked back eagerly.

“Maybe you could take me sightseeing another day. My vacation is a month long and there’s a ton of stuff Josuke won’t be able to take me to. I wouldn’t mind going with you, if you still wanted to.”

She might have taken your memories and borderline controlled you with them, but Daiya’s energy was infectious to be around. You didn’t think she would be your true love, but she was adorable and seemed just a touch lonely. Plus, what were younger sisters for if not to dish up dirt on their irritating older brothers?

The grin that spread across Daiya’s face made it all worth it. “I’d love that! We should totally make plans.” She then looked guilty. “But wait, your phone is still at the mansion, isn’t it?”

“I’m gonna head back to grab my stuff to take to the villa at the end of the day. Call my phone and I’ll add you.” You only had to repeat your number twice for Daiya to memorize it. As Daiya dragged her brother off, you wondered what the shit-eating grin on Joshu’s face was for before you realized he had heard your number too. Whatever. He probably would have extorted it from you sooner or later.

“That was pretty nice of you,” Josuke said when you caught up to him. “I thought you’d hate Daiya’s guts after she used her Stand on you.”

You shrugged. “If it were anyone else, I’d be pissed, but the Stand aside, Daiya seems chill. It’s a vacation. I want to make more friends than enemies.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Josuke said, looking away. “I should have come earlier to make sure you weren’t late. I completely forgot about your Stand until Karera screamed at me over the phone.”

Your chest warmed at that. “Of course she did.”

Josuke laughed. “She only took back what she said about murdering me after I texted that I found you. She would’ve ripped Daiya apart if she was here.”

“Where is she?” You were surprised she wasn’t here, actually. She would’ve rushed to find you any other time.

“Said she was busy. She’s probably out enjoying herself until we meet up at the villa.”

Scamming people, more like.

Josuke began walking and you fell into step with him. You were about to take Josuke’s hand before you remembered you weren’t close like that. It was second nature to do it with Karera to keep her from picking pockets. Actually, you had been mistaken as a couple more times than you could count. It had never bothered you, but you suddenly found yourself thinking about it.

“All good?” Josuke asked.

You half-smiled. “Just worry about where you’re taking me. After the morning I just had, you’d better make this trip goddamn spectacular.”

“I can’t promise anything. I’ll probably be a terrible tour guide.”

Josuke turned out to be a very capable tour guide. While he admitted that he’d only been living here for a year, he went about the town with the ease of someone who had taken the time to get to know it. There were little out-of-the-way shops only locals knew about and stretches of pretty streets with overgrown trees and wildflowers. Josuke was eager to pull you onto one of the public buses, pointing over your shoulder at that restaurant or that temple or that shop. While Morioh itself was pleasantly charming, you found yourself paying more attention to Josuke.

He was surprisingly able to rattle off the scientific names of various plants and insects around Morioh and told you specific distances between places with accuracy down to the centimetre. He was quick to laugh when you made quips and didn’t try to hide his excitement when you came to places he was fond of. He seemed to ask questions more because he was genuinely curious than out of courtesy. The way he gave you his full attention when you spoke sparked a warm feeling in your chest. Whenever he caught your eye, his two-toned eyes crinkled at the corners.

The day was over before you knew it. Josuke ended the tour on an outcropping of the coast that overlooked the setting sun over the sea. The breeze that blew over your skin was delicious. You closed your eyes for a moment to take it in. You could almost pretend you were only here for a vacation and not because the future of your life and your family depended on it.

You opened your eyes when you heard Josuke sit down beside you. A particularly strong gust nearly lifted his hat off his head and you both laughed as he snatched it back and squashed it down.

“I hope that tour wasn’t completely terrible,” Josuke said.

“No, you did great. I barely noticed the day go by.” You leaned back on your hands. “I wished the day was longer, actually.”

The dull throbbing and tingling in your limbs you had felt had disappeared suddenly. The task was now complete and you found yourself a little sad for it.

“I’m glad. I’ve never really shown anyone around like that before. Morioh’s not a major city, but I like to think there are things here you can’t find anywhere else.”

You sensed that Josuke had something else besides Morioh he wanted to talk about.

“What’s on your mind? Shoot.”

Josuke looked immediately sheepish. “I just wanted to know more about your curse. If you don’t mind talking about it, that is.”

“I don’t mind,” you said, maybe too nonchalantly.

“How will you know once you’ve found your true love?”

I won’t die when my birthday comes around. “It’s been different for all the heirs in my family,” you hedged. “Everyone said it’s a gut feeling. I guess I’ll just know.”

“Doesn’t seem very reliable.”

“It’s a curse,” you said dryly. “There’s only so reliable it can get.”

“It seems like so much pressure on you,” Josuke said, bringing his knees up to his chin. “Some people go their whole lives without finding their true love. You only have a month to do it. I wonder why you have such a narrow time frame?”

“It wouldn’t be a curse without some slim-ass odds.”

“Are you worried? That you won’t find your true love?”

Your chest tightened. “Of course. I don’t know where my family would be without our fortune. And there are all those companies we do business with.” And the small detail of my life ending.

“If you have a curse,” Josuke said, “then you have to have a way to break it.”

“We’ve gone generations without breaking it.” You frowned. “I’m pretty sure we would’ve found a way by now.”

Josuke turned to you suddenly. You were briefly distracted by the wind tossing his hair around his face. “What would you do if Joshu turned out to be your true love?”

“Jealous?”

“No. Terrified, actually. For you.”

“I thought he hated my guts, but I’m curious to see what he’ll do,” you said. “I can’t exactly get rid of any options right now.”

“You’re not worried about him taking all of your money?”

“If it’s really true love, my fortune shouldn’t matter.”

“That’s fair.” Josuke got to his feet, reaching down to help you up. “In that case, I have a few friends I’ll introduce you to. Since you need as many options as you can get.”

You wanted to ask if Josuke considered himself one of those options but you’d kick yourself if you made things weird.

“What’s this place called, by the way?” you asked, looking out one last time at the sea. “It’s so peaceful. I want to come back.”

Josuke looked as though he actually couldn’t remember before he deliberately turned away from you. “Eh, that’s not important.”

“Why? It has a name, right? Is it called Dick Rock or something?”

“Sure.” Josuke was already walking off.

“Oi, no deflecting questions, Mr. Tour Guide. What’s this place called? I won’t laugh. Out loud.”

When you caught Josuke’s sleeve, the tips of his ears were pink. It was so cute you had to fight a smile. He mumbled something.

“What was that?”

“... Cape.”

“Didn’t catch that.”

“This spot is called Lover’s Cape,” Josuke said. He looked everywhere but at you. “A popular meeting point for … lovers. Not that I was implying anything. I always thought this spot had a nice view. I didn’t mean … I’m gonna go call a cab.” Josuke pulled his hat down over his eyes and hurried off.

He didn’t see you lose the fight you’d been having with your smile.

Before going to your villa, you and Josuke took a cab back to the Higashikata mansion to pick up your things. You told Josuke to head back to his apartment, but he insisted on coming with you.

“I want to see what your villa looks like,” he said with a shrug.

When you checked your phone, all you saw was a message from Daiya. It was strange that Karera hadn’t bombarded you with lewd comments about Josuke yet. You sent her a text to make sure she didn’t forget about meeting at the villa. The back of your neck prickled uncomfortably when she didn’t reply right away.

Her phone probably died. She never remembers to charge it.

For fear of dust and disrepair, your mother employed a few people to maintain the villa the months she wasn’t there, and they had been instructed to leave you alone while you were here for vacation. The front lights were on, thankfully, and you admired the wood accents and clean panelling. You’d always liked how much greenery there was around Japanese buildings.

The front door was unlocked. You poked your head in, Josuke right behind you.

“Karera? You in here?”

You left your luggage by the door, taking off your shoes to pad inside. You were pleasantly surprised to find a pair of house slippers already waiting for you. You slipped one on, only to immediately shuck it off. “Ow, shit!”

“You okay?”

“Why the hell is there a thumbtack in here?” You lifted the slipper with your foot, scowling. “Karera,” you muttered.

“Are you gonna be alright?”

You cast off the slipper. “I’ll be fine. Maybe Karera’s upstairs. Would you mind checking?”

You flicked on the light in the hallway, a bit of static shock making you swear. You followed the hall down to the kitchen, turning on the lights there too. Still no one. Maybe Karera had crashed in one of the bedrooms.

“Ka—what the hell?”

Josuke immediately ran down the hall towards you. You barely registered him. All you could stare at was Karera sprawled on the floor, her dark hair pooling around her. Blood leaked from her hands and her bare feet.

She lifted her head weakly.

“Get … out …”

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#okoshijjl #jojos bizarre adventure #jjba #jjba x reader #jojolion #jojolion x reader #gender neutral reader

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cophene · 28 days

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𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄 | ohshc; twenty-three.

* • ° tamp down on rumours

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It was not a kiss. You refused to even consider it as such. You had barely even touched Mori. Well, your mouth had barely grazed his, but you had unfortunately knocked him to the ground. Even though he assured you nothing was broken, you knew there had to be a cracked rib somewhere.

Mori took it well enough once you’d scrambled to your feet. Only a tinge of colour in his cheeks and his ruffled hair suggested anything had happened. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for the rest of the Host Club. Or the lingering guests who had witnessed the disaster.

Or your mother, who now thought you had a secret boyfriend you should have told her about. In fact, she was so worked up about your clandestine relationship that she took you to Ouran the next day instead of your chauffeur, badgering you the entire drive.

“Come on, you can tell, sweetheart. Who was that? He’s very good looking, I won’t deny that. And so tall too. Who is it? He seems familiar.”

You kept up your stony silence.

“Tell me!” she said. “I’ll call your school’s Chairman so I can find out. Would you rather that? Is he from that Academic Debate Club the twins were talking about?”

You slumped in your seat. “Mom. Please.”

You leapt out of her car as soon as it pulled up to Ouran’s gates, muttering a “Byemomthanksloveyou.” You scurried toward Ouran but then quickly found things weren’t much better here.

“What? Mori-san kissed someone last night?”

“Yes! They just flung themself at him! It was so dramatic!”

“Romantic, more like! I didn’t know Mori-san had a secret lover!”

Your face felt like a four-burner stove. The group of students you’d just overheard caught sight of you and giggled behind their hands.

“If we asked them, do you think they would tell us what Mori-san’s lips felt like?”

“Oh, I bet they were so soft!”

“What about his cologne? He must have smelt amazing!”

As a matter of fact, Mori had been wearing very nice cologne, but like hell were you going to say that out loud. You flipped up the collar of your blazer and hurried past. You were about two seconds away from would’ve flinging your blazer over your head, actually.

It seemed like the entire academy had nothing to talk about but Mori and his gala kiss. You couldn’t escape it. To your mortification, a few students actually walked up to you and asked you to describe what had happened. You might as well have gone to heaven and come back for all the reverence they gave you.

“Nothing happened,” was the response you gave every time. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Nonetheless, the gossip swirled thick, and by lunchtime, you were Mori’s ravished lover, flinging yourself into his strong, capable arms. Fearing for your sanity, you decided to have lunch outside, by the fountain with the kid pissing.

You knew it was only a matter of time until the Host Club found you, and sure enough they did. You spotted Haruhi, Kyoya and Renge coming towards you from the hedges. You were relieved and scared in equal measure.

“Hey, Y/N. How are you holding up?” Haruhi asked first. Her smile said everything she didn’t. It was slightly amused, sympathetic, and pitiful all at once.

“I’m contemplating transferring schools overseas, thanks for asking.”

“My siblings studied at various prestigious institutions overseas, as a matter of fact,” Kyoya said, because of course he couldn’t resist. “I can ask them to recommend a few.”

You gave him a false grin. “Thanks, Kyoya. You’re so helpful.”

Renge looked like she was going to explode so you resigned yourself and cut to the chase.

“Are we going to have to do damage control on this whole Mori situation?”

“What happened?!” Renge burst out. Haruhi and Kyoya winced. “You and Mori kissed last night! Just like that! We sent Mori to check on you not to fall in love with you! What’s going on? Are you together now?”

“Renge,” Haruhi said through gritted teeth. “Bring it down a notch.”

“Well, are you?” Renge demanded.

You let out a long-suffering sigh. You set aside your bento box, folded your hands in your lap, looked Renge dead in the eye, and said, “Yes. Mori and I are together now. We decided last night.”

Renge’s “WHAT?” would have put an opera singer to shame. Haruhi and Kyoya seemed to know better though, cocking an eyebrow and readjusting his glasses, respectively.

“Renge, you make it too easy,” you said, laughing. “No. Nothing is going on. I just tripped and accidentally knocked Mori over. That’s all. Honest. It wasn’t a kiss.”

“It certainly looked like one,” Renge said adamantly. “Can you really blame us? You looked so forlorn after your talk with Keiji, of course we thought you were going to throw yourself at the first attractive person you saw!”

“I—Renge, that’s hurtful. Do you really think so little of me?”

“She thinks like that of everyone,” Haruhi said.

“Let it be known that in no way are Renge’s thoughts and opinions reflective of the Host Club,” Kyoya added.

Renge poked your cheek. “So you’re not with Mori?”

“No.”

Kyoya rolled his eyes at Renge. “You were the only person who needed proof of that. In any case, the damage, however unintentional, has been done. We’re going to need you to issue a statement and apologize for your behaviour, Y/N.”

You gawked at him. “Am I an influencer or something? I didn’t do anything. It was an accident! I already apologized—profusely—to Mori, and he said it was fine!”

“You’re a member of the Host Club,” Kyoya said, as though that explained everything. “You have caused much distress to Mori’s regular guests. Our revenue is going to decrease significantly if guests believe Mori is taken.”

“What Kyoya means to say,” Haruhi said, elbowing him, “Is that we want to tamp down on the rumours. You know how bad gossip at Ouran can get. We just want to make sure no one gets the wrong idea so they leave you and Mori alone.”

Thank the heavens for Haruhi.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you said. “It would probably be a good idea to clear things up. I kind of feel bad for Mori. I hope he’s doing alright.”

“Mori is doing just fine,” Renge sniffed. “He’s more than used to dealing with things like this.”

You scoffed, although you supposed that out of everyone, the Stoic Type would have been the best one to be caught up in a situation like this. It was a good thing you hadn’t fallen on top of Tamaki. Or the twins.

You felt yourself getting embarrassed. Why the hell were you thinking about something like that?

You cleared your throat. “Alright then. What’s first for damage control?”

Kyoya blinked when you looked at him pointedly. “The Host Club guidelines state that in the situation of false rumours, it is up to the hosts involved to deal with it however they see fit.”

Meaning: Kyoya didn’t have a clue.

“It’s probably best to ask Mori what he wants to do,” Haruhi said. “Maybe see what Tamaki has to say too.”

You nodded. “Yeah. That’s probably best.”

It was just a matter of whether you would be able to survive until the end of the day to actually go to Music Room 3.

“Worry not. As the manager of the Host Club, I will do everything in my power to ensure these outlandish rumours do not rage out of control,” Renge declared, setting a hand on your shoulder.

Her words didn’t reassure you in the slightest. If you knew anything about the lady manager, she had probably started half those rumours in the first place.

“Just keep your head down and don’t make any incendiary remarks,” Kyoya said. “If it comes to it, you can always fall back on your Tragic Type personality.”

If things continued the way they were, your tragicness wouldn’t be an act at all.

As it turned out, Kyoya was right about falling back on your Tragic Type personality. Someone would approach you, ask about Mori, and all you had to do was hang your head and make it look like you were on the verge of tears. It scared people off very quickly. For the rest of the afternoon, no one approached you for fear of initiating waterworks. Things were almost normal when you finally ducked into Music Room 3.

“Oh, loverboy!”

“Casanova!”

“Romeo!”

“Heartthrob!”

“I am going to punch both of you in the throat,” you gritted out.

“Did you enjoy your smooch with Mori last night?” Hikaru asked, unperturbed.

“Yeah, the two of you were getting pretty comfortable,” Kaoru said.

“It. Was. An. Accident.”

“You remember when we asked you about public displays of affection?” Kaoru said. He smiled cherubically at you. “I guess that means you like kisses, don’t you?”

You stormed past the twins. You looked around for Renge before remembering she was absent to quash rumours for you. You went to Tamaki instead, who was cutting a slice of cake for Honey.

You put your hands together in a begging motion. “Your Highness, please tell me how I can stop all of this.”

He raised an eyebrow, passing you a slice of cake too. “Your Highness now, huh? I could get used to that.”

“Please. I don’t know how you all do it, but I can’t handle this kind of attention.” You accepted a fork from Honey and put a huge bite of cake into your mouth.

“People haven’t been mean to you, have they, Y/N-chan?” Honey asked, his eyes wide. “I keep telling people you didn’t mean to kiss Taka-chan but no one believes me.”

You swallowed. “Where is Mori?”

Tamaki licked a bit of frosting off of his fingers. “I’m not sure. He might be busy with kendo practice, but he usually lets us know beforehand.”

You were sure it was nothing. You told yourself not to think the worst.

“What should I do, Tamaki? I don’t want people to get the wrong idea or anything. Mori was just trying to help.”

“You probably don’t have to do anything,” Tamaki said. “It’ll pass. But if you really want to make things clear, you could make a small announcement after club activities today. Tell everyone that nothing nefarious is going on between you and our stoic soldier.”

You side-eyed him. “Nefarious?”

Tamaki grinned. “Just something I heard.”

“Actually, Tamaki, there was something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

“You’re not going to be able to go to the Host Club anymore,” Honey said before you could. You looked at him in surprise.

“Volleyball season is coming up soon. You’re going to be busy with practice, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I am.” You set down your plate. “I just wanted to make sure that was okay with you and the club, Tamaki. I was thinking that next week would be my last day.”

Tamaki was misty-eyed. “Oh, of course. I don’t mind at all. Kyoya might be upset but he’ll find some other way to make up for lost profit.”

“I’ll be upset too,” Honey said. “It was fun having you around, Y/N!”

You smiled. “I think it’s fitting. I know it’s a little over the two weeks that Renge originally gave us, but to be honest, I really think you actually managed to heal—”

“Good afternoon, everyone. Sorry I’m late.”

Mori entered the music room just then, his tie slightly askew and his hair ruffled. He smiled and the entire room stared. It wasn’t like he wasn’t allowed to smile, you had just never seen him smile so brightly.

“What are you working on, Vice President?” Mori asked, looking over Kyoya’s shoulder at his laptop as he passed by. Kyoya did a double take and partially closed his laptop.

“You’re late today, Mori.”

“I apologize again. I must have lost track of time. It’s such a wonderful day out today.”

It was very cloudy today, but sure. Wonderful.

Mori crossed over to Haruhi “Your hair looks wonderful today, Haruhi.” To your surprise, he leaned over her and inhaled deeply. “It smells wonderful too.”

Haruhi’s cheeks were pink. “Um. Thanks?”

“Who are you—” Kaoru said.

“—And what have you done with Mori-san?” Hikaru finished.

“You two never stop with the jokes, do you?” Mori wrestled Hikaru under his arm and ruffled his hair.

This was uncanny. Maybe you were dreaming?

“What’s wrong with Mori?” you asked out of the corner of your mouth to Tamaki and Honey.

Honey gave a thin-lipped smile. “He’s probably just—”

“Honey! Strawberry cake again? Without inviting me?” Mori hovered over your shoulder now, reaching over you for a plate. He swiped a finger through the frosting and tasted it, grinning. “Now that’s a cake. Did Tamaki order it?”

“That was my plate,” you murmured. You shouldn’t have said anything though, because Mori’s attention fixed on you suddenly.

“Well hello,” he said, his voice dipping. His gaze didn’t leave yours as he replaced the plate of cake. He tipped his head. “How are you today?”

“Um, fine. What about you? Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m feeling wonderful, now that you’re here.”

Someone let out a strangled sound. Probably Tamaki, because it sounded like Mori had ripped a page directly out of his playbook.

You were tempted to check Mori’s temperature. His blood-alcohol content too.

Mori glided his fingers over your jaw, tilting up your head.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he said softly. “I can’t seem to get last night out of my head. I wonder if it’s the same for you?”

Your stomach swooped. “What do you mean?”

“What if we did it again? What we did last night?”

Mori leaned down. His fingers slid behind your neck, and the distance between the two you closed.

It was an accident! you thought wildly. An accident!

Wasn’t it?

“Mori, you must be feeling awfully tired,” Tamaki said, jolting the two of you apart. He gracefully led Mori to a settee that hadn’t been there a minute before and carefully helped him lie down. Kyoya draped a blanket over him and Honey began humming a sweet lullaby. Within minutes, Mori was out like a light.

Your heart was racing. “What was that?”

“Taka-chan gets like that when he’s tired,” Honey said, breathing a sigh of relief. He tucked in Usa-chan under the blanket beside Mori.

“Oh yeah, he does,” Kaoru said. “Very extroverted. Very talkative.”

“Very flirtatious,” Hikaru added.

“This has happened before?” Your voice sounded pinched.

“Only once,” Haruhi said, smoothing a hand over her hair. “It’s no less terrifying, though.”

“Well I think it’s sweet,” Tamaki said, patting Mori’s head.

Kyoya was rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. “No, Haruhi is correct. When Mori gets like this, the best thing to do is make him fall asleep. Immediately.”

Tamaki pouted. “You don’t have any complaints when I act like that, though.”

“Yeah, because when you do it, it’s harmless,” Hikaru said.

Kaoru grinned. “But when Mori does it, he means business.”

And it was off to the skulk corner for Tamaki. You were too busy trying to get your face under control to notice. Why was your face so hot? Maybe you were the one with fever.

“I think it’s best if we call off club activities today,” Kyoya said wearily. “We’re down two hosts and Y/N looks like they’re about to faint. Hopefully Renge’s interventions were successful and the rumours will simmer down over the weekend. We should be able to resume regular activities next week.”

“Mori is going to go back to normal, right?” you asked Honey. He smiled at you.

“Yep! All he needs is a little nap!”

“Does that mean Y/N was keeping Mori up all night?” Hikaru crowed.

You almost combusted right then and there. You knew it was bad when even Kyoya had to hide a smile.

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#disceohshc #ohshc x reader #ohshc #ouran high school host club #ouran host club #gender neutral reader

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cophene · 29 days

Note

OMG OMG I CAUGHT UP ON DISC ITS GETTING SM FUN OMG I LOVE YOU SM YOUR WRITING MWAH

LOLOL THANK YOU! THE LAST FEW CHAPTERS ARE COMING OUT SOON >:))

#pacespeaks #anon #anon ask

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cophene · 29 days

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interlude vi || ★ ⁺ — LAPPING OF WAVES.

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★˚⋆ THE PERPETUAL LAPPING OF WAVES was the music of Bruno Bucciarati’s childhood. A peaceful, somber sound—silent until you noticed it, and then deafening when you did. It lulled him to sleep and woke him up in the morning. Before he learned to speak, Bruno was mimicking the sound of waves. It was to be expected, growing up on the waterlogged planet that was Thetis, which was over three-quarters ocean.

Bruno adored his parents. His mother was a schoolteacher, and his father was a fisherman. Holding their hands, Bruno would toddle uncertain steps on the beach, shrieking with joy when waves lapped against his feet. His footprints would disappear in the seafoam like magic.

Bruno spent long hours of the day out at sea with his father. On a rickety skiff that was a remnant of the Old World. The air would be so salty that when Bruno smacked his lips, he could taste it. The wind would tousle his hair, and when his mother came to read him bedtime stories, her little boy smelled more like the sea than a child.

To Bruno, it seemed like there was no shortage of things his father knew. He knew about tides and currents and waves. Longitude and latitude, knots, lines, sails, bows, sterns. Every kind of fish father and son managed to haul up, Papa knew the name of, along with clams and coral and seaweed. The oceans of Thetis were vast and unknowable, but Bruno felt confident that his father must be close.

Bruno’s childhood was secluded. Nothing but the sky and sand and sea. Bruno could go days without seeing another person besides his parents. It seemed like everything on his plate came from the sea. It was an Old World way of living. It didn’t bother Bruno, but it did bother Mama.

A few weeks before Bruno turned seven, he crept up to his parents’ bedroom to sit and listen to their argument through the door frame. It was late, and he should have been asleep, but the house was wrung too tight to sleep. His parents had been arguing more often lately, arguments they insisted were about nothing.

This didn’t seem like nothing.

“Nobody lives like this anymore,” Mama hissed. “What child his age has never seen a hologram?”

“Lives like this are what everyone misses. Being connected to the land. Having fun. Exploring. He’s enjoying himself.”

“He has no friends his own age. He should be in school by now.”

“No one said he couldn’t go to school.”

Mama sighed. Bruno could almost imagine he felt it through the door.

“This isn’t what I wanted. This isn’t what I expected when you said we could raise a child out here.”

Papa was quiet for a long time. “He’s happy. Isn’t that all you can hope for?”

“He’s happy because he doesn’t know any better. This is no way for any child to grow up.”

“You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“I just wish you could see how—nevermind. I’m tired. I just want to go to sleep.”

The light under Bruno’s parents’ door went out. He waited there for a few minutes, then padded back to his room. The moon shone a rectangle of light onto his bed, and he climbed into it gingerly, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

He listened to the far-off waves, as familiar now to him as his own heartbeat. He looked at his room in the moonlight, the shells on his windowsill, the jars of rocks and pebbles, little drawings of fish. He thought about what his mother had said.

Why did Mama think he was unhappy? He wasn’t. If he had to go to school, he would. He’d rather go out to fish with his father, but he knew kids had to go to school.

Over the next little while, Bruno tried to be as happy as he could. He smiled widely at everything Mama cooked, did his chores at the dock without complaint, and eagerly told his parents about what he enjoyed about each day.

And yet despite his efforts, he could tell something was brewing, like dark, heavy storm clouds off in the distance. The sea churned uneasily and crabs always scuttled away before he could catch them.

When storms were on the horizon, Papa always told him to batten down, to tie down anything that might be tossed overboard. So Bruno prepared himself, braced himself for the cold sting of rain.

It came one day when Bruno came down for breakfast.

Both of his parents were there, which was unusual. Papa was up before the sun most days and always waited for his son at the dock. Today, he sat at the table with his hands folded in front of him. Mama was looking out the window.

“Sit down, Bruno,” Papa said.

“What’s wrong?”

Mama sighed deeply. “Mama and Papa have been talking, and we’ve decided it’s best if we don’t live together anymore. It’s not your fault, though, sweetheart. We still love you very much.”

Bruno’s heart sank like a stone.

“I’ll be leaving for the city soon, and Papa will stay here.” Mama’s voice caught. “We wanted to know where you want to live, Bruno. With me? Or with Papa?”

Even worse than the fact that his parents were separating: they were forcing him to choose between them.

Bruno felt the backs of his eyes prickling. This wasn’t fair.

“You’ve always been a bright boy. There will be a lot of big schools in the city for you to study at,” Mama said gently. “And new technology for you to learn. Oh! There’ll be other children your age to play with too!” She reached across the table to hold Bruno’s hand. “You’ll go with Mama, won’t you, Bruno?”

Papa didn’t say anything to convince Bruno to stay with him. He seemed resigned to the fact that Bruno would be leaving with his wife.

Bruno looked into Mama’s kind eyes. He loved her, of course, but she wasn’t like Papa. He had the feeling that wherever Mama ended up, she would be okay. She would eventually forget about the sea and the docks and the grey sky. She would know how to make her way.

“I want … I want to stay with Papa,” Bruno said.

Mama inhaled sharply. Papa jerked his head up, eyes wide.

“You don’t mean that,” Mama whispered. She pulled her son into her chest, chair legs squeaking. “Say you’ll go with Mama. You’ve always liked me more, haven’t you?”

Bruno felt Mama crying into his hair. He stared at his father, who stared back. He didn’t know how to say that it wasn’t a matter of who he liked more.

It was a matter of who needed him more.

It had been two years since Mama had left. She had promised to visit every month, but that had turned into every other month and now, every other holiday. It didn’t bother Bruno too much. He knew his mother had a life of her own. Papa had told him that Mama had met another man, and that they might be married.

Life with Papa didn’t change. Not too much, at least. There was still fish to be caught and sold, boats to be repaired, people to be haggled with. Bruno still spent long hours under the sun at sea, listening to Papa identify types of coral and kelp. But lately, Papa had been talking about something else.

He’d bought a holopad not too long ago, a slip of a thing that fascinated and terrified Bruno.

“It’s for school,” Papa told Bruno. “You have to meet with your teacher everyday and do lessons online. She’ll tell you what you need to know. She knows more than me.”

School. The word made Bruno think of Mama. He logged onto lessons obediently, finding the videos and tinny audio strange. He was a diligent student, but he didn’t see what anything he learned had to do with the sea and working with Papa.

With their lines cast out at sea, Papa often asked Bruno how he was doing at school. Bruno always answered that he was doing well. He thought he was, at any rate.

“It’s too bad you can’t go to a real school. They’re supposed to be better than things online.”

“I don’t mind.”

Papa muttered something to himself. He squinted out at the water. “Bruno, when you’re older, I hope you’ll be able to go to a real school. One of those Institutes.”

“I don’t want to go to an Institute. I want to fish with you.”

“You can’t fish with me forever,” Papa said, ruffling Bruno’s hair.

“Yeah, I can. I’ll fish for as long as I can.”

Bruno meant for the words to make Papa smile. Instead, he looked sad.

“I’ll go to an Institute if you want me to, Papa.” Even if he didn’t know where Institutes were or what to do at them. Papa seemed to like that.

A few days later, Bruno found Papa repainting his skiff.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m fixing up the old skiff.”

“But it’s not broken.”

Papa wiped his forehead. “No, but I have to fix her up if I want to sell her.”

Bruno frowned. “Why would you sell her?”

“So I can buy a bigger boat. I’m planning on getting a cruiser, one that can take tourists out on the ocean.”

“Why?”

“To make more money. Fishing is good, but it’s better to have a few things going at once. That way, we can save up to send you off to the Institutes.”

Bruno looked uneasily at the skiff. He didn’t want to take tourists out on a cruiser. He just wanted to fish. It seemed like everything nowadays had to do with the Institute.

But he said nothing, because that would make Papa sad.

Papa eventually got his cruiser, and soon enough, brightly dressed tourists were crowding their corner of the dock to be taken out on the ocean. Not to fish or study the waves or the wind. Merely to gawk and look pretty. Sometimes, they would make Papa take pictures of them with their holopads. Bruno thought it was silly, but it apparently paid well. Well enough for Bruno to start going to school.

By now, Bruno was old enough to recognize how ironic it was for his father to be sending him to school. He’d decided against moving with Mama to the city to be with Papa, and here he was, sending him away anyway. Bruno hardly saw Papa somedays, and even though Papa told him not to, he worried.

He still had time to work with Papa on weekends, though. He would sign in tourists and help them into life vests. Sometimes the girls would ask him to take pictures, blushing down at the dock. Bruno might have been flattered, but he was too busy watching Papa, watching him scroll their credit account, bend over backwards to please tourists, pull on fake grins.

They barely ever went fishing anymore. Bruno had a feeling Papa had sold all of their fishing gear without Bruno’s knowing.

I want you to study at the Institutes, Bruno. That’s the most important thing.

Today was a school day, but Bruno was tempted to skip. They had more customers than usual, and he knew Papa would appreciate the extra help. It would be easy to lie and say that today was a holiday.

“Please put on this life vest,” Bruno said to the man and woman.

“Don’t need it,” the man said flippantly, hopping onto the cruiser. “It’ll just get in the way.”

“It’s part of the waiver. We don’t want anything to happen to you, sir.”

The woman remained on the dock, waiting. The man scoffed, reaching back to take the life vest. “Put it on and get over here, Sheila,” he said impatiently.

The couple might have been a few years older than Bruno. The woman was slight, with braided hair and a star-like mark over one of her eyes. The man was lean, with dark hair and flinty grey eyes.

Papa wasn’t here yet. Bruno finished the last of the preparations for the tour, trying to reel for time.

“Where are the two of you headed today?”

“We’re going to Cadoro,” Sheila said. The water made her uneasy. Bruno could tell by how stiffly she sat.

“I wouldn’t recommend it for sightseeing. It’s extremely dry this time of year and it tends to storm.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” the man said. “What we’re doing on Cadoro doesn’t concern you.”

Bruno turned to hide his scowl. He checked the guest log for the man’s name. Squinted at it.

Pascal Caprese.

“Hey, what’s taking so long? Are we leaving or what?” Caprese demanded.

“My father will be here shortly,” Bruno answered. He dealt with customers like this before. The less he said, the better.

“I’d prefer it if we left sometime today.”

“Sorry I’m late,” Papa said, blustering his way onto the boat. “Got held up with the merchants. Mr. Caprese. Ms. Erinni. Welcome aboard. Where are we headed?”

“Cadoro,” Sheila said.

Papa didn’t hesitate. “Cadoro it is. You’re strapped in already; wonderful.” He only then seemed to notice Bruno. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“I can take the day off. You’re busy today so I—”

“None of that. I’m the one working, not you. Get to school. I’ll be fine.”

“But are you really going to take them to Cadoro? You always say the waters near there are—”

“Don’t worry about me,” Papa said firmly. He gave Bruno a push. “Go. I’ll see you after school.”

“But Papa—”

“I wasn’t aware I was paying for extra chit-chat,” Caprese sniped.

“Apologies, sir. We’re leaving now.”

Bruno had no choice but to step off the cruiser. He watched Papa pull out of the dock, Caprese frowning and Sheila’s braids whipping behind her. Papa never took tourists to Cadoro. Tempestuous waters and craggy shores made it dangerous. Why would Caprese be an exception?

Reluctantly, Bruno went to school. He was distracted all day and practically ran to get home when the last bell rang. His father would be back by now. Would he be alright? He had to be. Even if the waters around Cadoro were dangerous, his father was an experienced sailor.

Bruno would demand to know why his father had gone. It didn’t matter if he wanted Bruno to get into an Institute, risking his own life wasn’t the way to do things. Bruno didn’t want to admit it, but it seemed like the older Bruno got, the more foolish Papa became.

The cruiser had not returned to the dock. In its place was a cluster of people and the dark uniforms of Galactic Authorities. Bruno’s heart started to race. He pushed his way to the front of the crowd.

“Excuse me. Sorry. What’s going on? Did something happen?”

The crowd murmured among themselves. Someone caught hold of his arm.

“Your father’s in the hospital. Critical condition.”

Bruno felt like he had fallen off the dock. His entire body was freezing.

“What?” Bruno’s voice cracked. “How? What happened?”

Nobody had an answer. Bruno ran back to the street, got one of his father’s shopkeeping friends to drive him to the hospital.

Papa. In the hospital. He shouldn’t have gone to Cadoro. Papa knew that.

Bruno burst into the hospital. Babbled until an orderly escorted him to a different floor and gestured for him to sit beside a GA officer. The red light was on in the operating room.

“Are you Bruno Bucciarati?” the officer asked.

“I am. What happened to my father?”

The GA looked down at his holopad. “Your father was caught up in a shooting while transporting tourists to Cadoro. We believe he was a witness in an illegal trade between a fencer and buyer. They shot him, hoping to kill him before he could leak anything.”

Bruno looked down at the tile. “Will he be alright?”

“We’re not sure. He was in bad shape.” The officer sighed. “He’s an important witness in this case, though. Apparently, that fencer has been gaining some notoriety. We’d like to nip it in the bud. Ever heard of Zero?”

Bruno hadn’t, but he’d probably kill him if Papa died.

“Is my father at risk?” Bruno asked suddenly, straightening.

“If—” the officer cleared his throat. Changed his mind. “We’ll post a guard outside of your father’s room until this blows over. You can be assured that no further harm will come to him.”

No harm should have come to Papa at all, but Bruno didn’t say that. He held his head in his hands and prayed instead. To the stars. Please don’t let Papa die. Please. Please don’t. Please. Please.

After six hours in the operating room, Papa was wheeled out. It was a miracle none of the elector pulses had hit any internal organs, the doctor told Bruno. Extremely fortunate. With time, Papa would make a full recovery.

Bruno thanked the doctor profusely. Then he thanked the stars, or whatever had been kind enough to listen to him.

Bruno skipped school for all of the following week. He stayed Papa for as long as the nurses let him before getting kicked out. Papa was still too weak to speak but just the fact that he was still alive was enough for Bruno.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, Papa,” Bruno said, gripping his father’s hand. “I swear it.”

Bruno had stayed back because he wanted to be there for his father. He intended to stay true to that. No matter what.

Bruno’s paranoia became too much. He took to leaving right before visiting hours ended and then sneaking back into the hospital to spend the night with Papa. No one had been arrested, but he wouldn’t be pleased that one of his deals had failed. He would be back to finish Papa off. Bruno just knew it.

And sure enough, one night when Bruno was nodding off, he heard the window crack open. He whipped around in his seat, elector drawn, but the intruder was faster, clamping a hand over Bruno’s mouth.

“Sweet of you. To watch over your old man like that. You must really love him.”

Bruno thrashed but the intruder didn’t budge. He whispered, low in Bruno’s ear, “Why don’t you come with me? I was planning on finishing your father off, but this might be the better alternative.”

Bruno stilled.

“Come work for me and I’ll forget about your old man. And the fact you tried to kill me tonight. I could use someone like you.”

Bruno darted a look towards his father. Sleeping.

“Refuse and I’ll kill him. The GA’s won’t be able to catch me.”

There was a small think! sound. Bruno caught the flash of something in the gloom. A blade?

He felt someone else brush up against him. And then something sinking into his chest. Bruno gasped silently.

Bruno believed him. If the intruder didn’t finish off Papa today, it would be some time next week, month, year, until it was all Bruno could think about.

I’ll protect you, Papa. I swear it.

Working for Zero turned out to be both worse and better than Bruno expected. But maybe that was because Zero kept him out of the thick of things. He was relegated to menial tasks and dull paperwork the bots weren’t smart enough to keep up with. That was all he was, really. A bot.

He never met with Zero directly. Only the people working under him, and Sheila occasionally. Zero was a shadowy presence somewhere above him, calling all of the shots like this was a sim and they were all characters at his disposal. Yet, despite this, Bruno was still willing to work for him. Everyone under his employ was. Something magnetic drew them all to Zero, so that even though he was just a figurehead, none of them could imagine being anywhere else.

It was amazing, the kind of effect Zero had on people. Bruno often caught hints of the projects Zero was working on, and he could be awed by them. Age-old artifacts, relics from forgotten times, jewellery and gems and gold worth more credits than he knew what to do with. Zero was building an empire, becoming the richest man in the galaxy. Bruno was just glad he could be a part of it at all. It was an honour.

Most days, Bruno didn’t even remember his father. And when he did, it was a distant ache. Someone to miss briefly before moving on. Nothing else to it.

Recently, the more pressing matter Bruno had to deal with was his newfound Stand. At least, that was what he thought it was called. He couldn’t be sure. There wasn’t anyone else to ask. It was vaguely human-like and had appeared without warning, scaring the shit out of him. Bruno didn’t know what it did. The blue-and-white humanoid didn’t appear to want to hurt Bruno. It didn’t seem like it could speak, either. It seemed like its only purpose was to observe Bruno with a faintly disapproving air.

A bot knocked into Bruno without warning. Bruno righted himself, frowned after the squat little bot. Then he had to dodge as an entire gang of them puttered down the hall, beeping frantically.

He hurried back to his cubicle. “What’s going on?” he asked around. No one answered. They were all frantically typing on their keyboards.

“I don’t care how long it takes, just do it!” someone barked from the other side of the office. Bruno looked up to see Sheila brushing off someone and storming towards the elevators.

“What’s going on?” he tried to ask her, but the doors were already closing.

Bruno felt enclosed by fog. What was going on? Why wouldn’t anyone answer him?

On a whim, Bruno took the next set of elevators. Something told him to follow Sheila. She might be going to Zero. He'd find out what was happening from the source.

It was quieter on the upper floors. No bots puttering around or frantic workers. Bruno kept a good distance between himself and Sheila, knowing she would chew him out and send him back if she heard him. She rounded the corner and disappeared behind a set of doors. When Bruno approached, a number pad flashed at him.

Bruno pressed his fingers against the glass. Well. That had ended before it began. There was nothing now but to go back and hope someone explained something to him.

There was a sound like something ripping. No, that wasn’t right. It was more like—

A zipper.

His humanoid was back, hovering off to the side. A large zipper had opened in one of the doors, revealing the other side. Bruno reached out his arm carefully, surprised when it went through.

Did you do this?

The humanoid didn’t answer. Not wasting time, Bruno stepped through and the zipper closed behind him, vanishing right after.

The click of Sheila’s shoes was retreating to the left. Bruno turned, walking on the balls of his feet until a set of doors slid closed. Bruno hesitated. The doors and walls were soundproofed. He wouldn’t hear a thing standing out here.

A zipper appeared where the floor met the wall. Peeling up the exposed wall, Bruno found a swirling pit of space. More confident this time, he stepped through, zipping the wall closed behind him. He got down on his stomach, found the seam of the wall, and unzipped it just enough to lift it up and peek out the other side.

Sheila was arguing with someone. They reclined in their seat, an intricate mask covering their face. Bruno could feel their repressed anger from here.

“I don’t know why you’re yelling at me when you failed to do what I asked of you, Sheila.”

“Your plan was stupid,” Sheila snapped back. “How am I supposed to kill an entire crew aboard their own ship?”

“It isn’t an entire crew. It’s two runaway soldiers. If you’d at least incapacitated them, we wouldn’t be in this situation right now.”

“You raised the alarm. Not me. Who cares about some red necklace? You should’ve just let them go.”

The masked man got to his feet. He raised his arm, but it was a dark, translucent limb that choked Sheila.

“How dare you talk back to me. I can see now that your resolve is sputtering like a weak flame.”

Shimmering threads burst from Sheila’s chest. Bruno watched, horrified and fascinated, as a humanoid appeared behind the masked man, gathering the threads with its other hand.

“You will listen to what I tell you, Sheila. You will do exactly as I say.” The humanoid braided the threads together, a beautiful cord that it pushed back into Sheila. With a gasp, Sheila came back to herself, her eyes suddenly dull.

“What would you have me do, Zero?”

Bruno felt something in his own chest snap. Zero. Anger. Disgust. Fear.

Papa. How long had he left Papa alone?

Bruno had to get out of here. How had he allowed himself to work for the man who had nearly killed his father?

He made a plan. The first of many. He would get out of here. Find out who had stolen from Zero. Join them, if he could. Then he would get in contact with Papa. Let him know he was alright.

How had Bruno ever loved working for Zero?

Finding the pair of space thieves wasn’t hard. It made Bruno wonder why the GA’s hadn’t been able to do it sooner. They were eating at a restaurant of all places, so Bruno merely sat down to join them.

“Hey, dude, that seat’s taken,” said the one in the arrow cap. Guido Mista. The other one, Y/N L/N, said nothing. Eyed him nervously.

“I’m not with the GA’s,” said Bruno. “I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to join your crew.”

“And why would you want to do that?” Mista asked suspiciously.

Bruno lifted a shoulder. Brushed a few strands of hair out of his eyes.

“I’m in need of employment. Do you happen to know who Zero is? I have quite a bit of experience under him. You could even consider me an expert on things worth stealing. I could help you spot fakes. Find things that will actually get you credit.”

Mista looked a few seconds away from pulling his elector out. Bruno splayed his fingers out on the table.

“I’ll put my money where my mouth is. Zero had his eye on a set of crystal decanters from a well known Upper Space family. I can take you there. I studied the schematics of the place for weeks. We’ll be in and out in five minutes. And you’ll be five thousand credits richer.” A small bluff on Bruno’s part. But with Sticky Fingers, it shouldn’t be too difficult.

Bruno could feel the pair beginning to thaw. They were still jittery, a thieving crew just out of training wheels. Bruno knew how that felt. He was still looking over his shoulder, expecting Zero at every moment.

“Give me a chance,” Bruno said. “You never know when I’ll save your life.”

Y/N frowned. Their gaze went to their drink, then drifted back to Bruno’s face.

“So what should we call you?”

“Bruno Bucciarati.”

Y/N pursed their lips. “Alright. You get us those decanters. If you don’t, we’ll kill you.”

Mista seemed surprised at the words. Bruno wasn’t. He extended his hand, met Y/N’s with a firm shake.

“It’s a deal.”

It was Bruno who suggested they named the ship. He was appalled that Y/N and Mista had gone on for this long without doing so. All of the ships he’d known at sea had names. The ones in space shouldn’t be an exception.

Passione. And Old World word from one of their dead languages. It was a fancy, slightly wistful name that Y/N seemed confused by but willing to accept. That aptly described most things that Bruno did.

After he’d gotten the crystal decanters, Bruno had slowly changed the trajectory of the crew. Buffed them out and gave them a foundation. He told them what was worth stealing and what wasn’t. Steered them away from being reckless but kept them bold. His encounter with Zero had given him a head for this sort of thing, it seemed. Bruno had no qualms about theft anymore. All he asked in return was a chance to visit his father once a month.

Overtime, Passione found itself. Became a thieving crew to be reckoned with, one known for being cocky, brash, but also forthright and cunning. Heists became easier. They developed their Stand abilities. Credits started filling in. New crew members established themselves, whether by accident or on purpose.

Fugo, the brilliant engineer with a black temper. Narancia, the cocky pilot with an easy smile. Trish, the negotiator with soft, biting words. Even Abbacchio, the deadset officer with questionable morals. It took a while for the personalities to meld together, but when they did, Passione functioned like a well-oiled machine. Sometimes, it was as though they could read each other’s minds.

Inevitably, Bruno grew to love the crew. He was someone different to everyone in it, but they all took a place inside of him, became someone to care about. He started to care less about how many credits they stole, and more about how much everyone was eating, sleeping, drinking. Their mental states. Sometimes the Captain forgot about that. Bruno was always there to gently remind them.

Bruno was the firm hand that held them back. Passione was too eager to throw themselves into the sun. He couldn’t have that.

And yet, for all of the lavish living that stealing afforded him, he wasn’t completely happy. It wasn’t something he liked to admit. A part of him still yearned for the sea, for choppy waves and calling gulls and salt in the air. He would miss the crew, certainly, but he couldn’t stay if it meant it constantly felt like his heart was hanging on a ledge.

Bruno approached the Captain after a visit to Leaky Eye Luca. It had gone well. As well as could be expected when dealing with someone so unpleasant. A healthy twenty thousand credits had been deposited into their account, and now they were flying to a resort colony for a week of relaxation.

If things went well, Bruno would be going back to Triton with his father, instead.

He knocked on the Captain’s room. “Captain? It’s me, Bruno. May I come in?”

He wasn’t nervous. But he wasn’t sure what the Captain would say. Their relationship was closer than most. What they could become Bruno didn’t let himself think about. It wasn’t worth it when he was about to leave.

The Captain’s door slid open. They were at their desk, a spreadsheet of numbers in front of them. “What’s up?”

“Do you have time to talk? I don’t want to bother you.”

“You’re never a bother.” Captain dismissed the spreadsheet and turned to face Bruno fully. “What is it?”

Bruno stared at the Captain. He had the sudden, irrational thought that this was vaguely reminiscent of his parent’s divorce. All these years later, and the conflicting emotions he felt were the same.

“I want to leave, Captain.”

They didn’t react. Bruno’s heart momentarily lifted. “Where do you want to go? You don’t have to go to the resort if you don’t want to. I know crowds aren’t really your thing.”

“I’d like to visit my father. On Tritus.”

“A bit early for the visit.”

Bruno took in a breath. “If it’s possible, I’d like to make the visit permanent.”

“... What do you mean by that?”

“I’ve given it a lot of thought. I appreciate everything Passione has given me over the past while, but … it’s just not what makes me genuinely happy.”

The Captain was not Fugo. They would not let their anger get the better of them. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t still get angry.

“Are you saying you want to leave the crew?”

“Yes. I’d like to leave the crew.”

The Captain’s face crumpled. “You want to leave? Why? Is it one of the crewmembers? Stress? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. I’d just like to leave to be with my father. I’ve never said so, but I grew up by the sea. If given the choice, it’s where I’d want to spend my life.”

The Captain snorted and it was a hurtful sound. “But why now? We’ve been doing so well. I don’t see what the sea could possibly offer you. If you want to visit your dad, fine, but I don’t see what you could do outside of the crew. Are you telling me you don’t want to be rich?”

“That’s not what’s important to me.”

“You have to give me a better reason. I don’t understand why you’d just up and leave. You of all people.”

“So you’re not letting me leave?” “You can leave, I just want to know why.”

It was starting to feel like a confrontation. “I don’t know why this is a problem.”

“One of my crewmembers is telling me they want to leave without any warning. It’s going to disrupt our plans. Our systems. Everything. We’re losing a member! You don’t think that’s a problem?!” “It wouldn’t be right away. I’m just telling you now that it’s what I want.”

The Captain scoffed. “Am I supposed to agree to this? Just let you leave? You should’ve told me earlier! Before I started looking at jobs from Zero.”

“You what?”

“Some of Zero’s associates are putting up job offers. Lucrative stuff, and not at all hard. I was thinking of picking some of them up after our break.”

“You can’t do that.”

“I don’t see why that matters to you when you’re planning to leave.”

Bruno drew closer to the Captain. “You need to promise me to stay away from Zero. Whatever you do, no matter what it comes to, you can’t ever make a deal with Zero. You’re better off dead than with anything he can offer.”

“This coming from someone who used to work for him.”

“That was a mistake.” Bruno thought of shimmering strands bursting for Sheila’s chest. Zero’s slithering voice and his inexplicable, unwavering loyalty. A form of manipulation so terrible no one was able to escape from it.

“Promise me you won’t work for Zero. I wouldn’t say anything unless it was to protect you. You know that’s all I ever want to do.”

The Captain looked into Bruno’s eyes. “If it means that much to you, fine. I promise.” They leaned back in their seat. “Have you told anyone else about your plans?”

“No. You’re the first.”

“You should probably let them know, then.”

Bruno heard the dismissal and followed it. He paused in the doorframe. “I’m sorry this is so sudden, Captain.” He was apologizing for other things too. Things to come. He hoped the Captain would understand.

Later, when the Captain went to find Bruno, they wouldn’t be able to. They would search the entire ship and come up empty, and realize too late one of the escape pods was gone. They would demand to know what happened. Mista would tell them Bruno had gone to perform routine inspections on the ship’s exterior. A check from Fugo would reveal the pod had mistakenly ejected somehow, and blasted Bruno off of the ship. While everyone else grieved, the Captain would fume with anger. It wasn’t the best of ways, but it was the best Bruno could come up with.

No one but the Captain would know he’d wanted to leave.

Bruno hitchhiked his way back to Tritus and managed to spend a few months with his father before a lung infection took his life. After that, the seas of Tritus, despite their familiarity, became too lonely. It pained him to be out on the water, and he couldn’t go back to Passione without breaking the trust everyone had in the Captain. He assumed they thought he was dead. There was no coming back from something like that.

He needed somewhere lowkey to go. Somewhere without the risk of being recognized as a thief. Perhaps one of the research planets on the fringes of the galaxy. One with more water than land.

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#kismetva #jjba #jjba x reader #jjba fanfic #golden wind #golden wind x reader #vento aureo #vento aureo x reader #gender neutral reader #sci fi au

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