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danddymaro · 2 years

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Dio Brando X Reader | pt. 4

Pairing(s) : Dio x Reader x (somewhat ) Jonathan | Part 1 Phantom blood |

Previous : Over the Years, Till now

word count: 6736

{ Remember, at this point, Our babies are all 18-19 W/ flashbacks of before included. }

Thoughts are italics in quotations = ‘Example’

Flashbacks are in italics = Example

A/N: EEEK It’s been a minute for this one. I hope it’s alright.

Foolish

(f/n)'s eyes were trained on the doorway, a worried glance shot towards the entrance of the manor as she continued to stand in wait, hoping the double doors would soon open to reveal the dark-haired young gentleman that lured her heart so far deep into the tenderness, that it was trapped there.

Her duties went on completed but throughout the entire time, she couldn't help but keep going back by the entrance of the estate, distressed.

She practically made circles, each round seeming to wear down the strength she had to cover up the desperation that lay beneath the placid expression she wore until she was left with a completely readable face that cried of unease.

'He's been gone since morning...' she started, ' and soon, the sun will set,' she added anxiously, well aware that while he had grown more, and she was certain that he would take care of himself, danger could always find its way to him.

He was too kind.

- Too trusting, and even if he'd been strong enough to defend himself more, his heart was always soft.

'Jonathan,' She then thought while swallowing down thickly, ' I hope you are well,' she added with wholehearted regard that stemmed from true, dutiful affection.

' it's not like you to stray so far from home, much less during such hours,' she went on.

‘ And for such long periods,' she went on.

'You've been gone the entire day,' (f/n) then added, 'Just like yesterday,' she added with a strange, wired coil wrapped around her bouncing heart, the tightness of it almost unbearable.

“and the day before...” she murmured to herself.

What was keeping him so preoccupied...so far from home?

Something felt wrong.

Something felt like there was impending doom was right ahead, waiting in the corner like a ghastly fiend that hoped to consume her whole.

In all of her wondering, she didn't notice the steps that trailed from behind her, mirroring hers and that stopped only inches away.

Quiet as always and tranquil as an unrippled pond on the coolest night, towering blonde approached her and loomed behind her, his posture changing as he decided to come even closer by leaning down.

A warm, soft breath then tickled her cheek as he teasingly blew a puff of breath her way and with a startled jump, she came out of her daze, quickly bouncing back with a little squeal that was that of a naughty mouse caught in the kitchen, assaulted with a large broom.

"Do tell," the adopted Joestar started, " that face of concern... that wide-eyed glance... it means something, Doesn't it?" he murmured as he watched the said face melt back onto her features after the sudden startle he'd given her wore down.

When she realized it was him, she made no attempt to wear a mask, letting her face fall back into the same worry as before.

Naturally, she felt at ease.

However, she lightly bowed her head in embarrassment, and he could barley see the way her lower lips slipped in between the sharp edges of the two rows of teeth for just a moment as she considered the answer she could give him.

'Should I Ask?' she wondered. 'He should know....' She told herself. 'If anyone would know...he would.' she then thought with certainty, all as he looked at her in wait and curiosity.

He noticed that she must have something to tell him, something that had been on her mind and she was just a bit too bashful to speak of. Every so often she went to him too ask rather strange questions, some that were answered with mirth and amusement.

“I used to think babies were made with kisses,” (f/n) confessed, the young woman flushed at the nonsensical thinking of the 8 year old version of herself.

She even bowed her head in embarrassment at the confession, and Dio only snickered as they sat together on the grass, looking out into an open field.

By then they’d been into their teen years, the earlier ones around 14-15, and they’d have time to actually talk, sometimes about certain things too embarrassing to ask adults.

They were different, very different because Dio had known at that age, at just 8.

His mother had died when he was young, and in his father’s care he’d been exposed to plenty.

He was left in many places that weren’t meant for children when he wasn’t left home alone, when Dario schemed that people would feel more pity and less caution if a poor child was involved.

-And it had worked until people started recognizing them.

And when he’d grown just a little bit older, trying to scavenge for enough to get a meal, he’d seen certain things as well. He was hardly ever around a decent crowed.

- All while (f/n) thought of how one single kiss, innocent as it would be could make her a child.

“Oh, so if I were to kiss you now, we’d make a child , right?” he questioned her, and her immediate response was to peep out , frantic ‘No!’

“That’s now how they’re made!” she said hastily.

“Then would you still want a kiss?” he asked her, leaning in closer before she swatted him away.

“Of course not!” she told him, “Besides, we’d have to be in love for the child to happen,” she said in an all too certain tone, one he actually laughed at.

“Love?!” he continued to chuckle.

He’d never seen her so frustrated and embarrassed, all at the same time.

As she tightly held the fabric of her skirt into fisted balls, he had to look away to hide the enormous grin her wore.

Such a silly girl,’ he thought to himself.

“I already told you...” she mumbled lowly, begrudgingly. “I used to think that...I don’t think that any more,” she told him.

“You seem rather convinced to me,” Dio said back teasingly.

“If you know so much, then do tell....how are they made?” he asked her, and she made a little sound of discomfort, something of a mix between a groan and a huff.

“You still don’t know, do you?” he asked her as he finally settled down, his voice much more calmed, and it seemed to lure her out of the little tense bubble she’d been suffocating in.

The only reason she knew she was wrong was because back then, Agatha had explained to her that, that wasn’t how they were made. She’d smiled and chuckled at the Child’s innocence, and while she assured to tell her the truth when she was older, she never did.

She did however tell her that, that didn’t mean she should kiss just any boy, which (f/n) didn’t need to be told twice.

“No...” (f/n) said with a small voice.

“But...Would you teach me?” she asked him, and for some reason the question made him feel strange.

He felt warm in the face, his palms growing moist with sweat.

Seldom did he feel shame, or even such bashfulness, but the question made him revert into a timidity he’d long forgotten.

“Would you explain it to me Dio?” she asked him, wanting to know.

She took a moment of silence before she decided to take a brave, low breath to still the waver that most certainly would have taken over her own words,

"It does," she then murmured, and he smiled softly. “What would it be?” he questioned her.

He felt rather playful, the mood aroused by the young woman before him.

Granted his day had been something less than pleasant, and it wasn’t due to anything that had upset him, but rather the simple mundane activities he partook.

It was mostly studies and bore, spending time with people he had to, rather than the one he actually had any interest in.

But now he was free, free to actually find (f/n) and pester her.

He did love how easily he could fluster her.

“Ah....Dio,” she added, hoping she wouldn't sound too forward, nor imprudent.

'I don't have a right to,' she thought to herself briskly, but not quickly enough to stop the words from flowing.

"- Where is Jonathan?" she asked the ruby-eyed male.

It wasn't her place to ask.

She knew it.

It wasn't to her concern for any reason, because as a servant, all she should be troubled with was how to maintain the household and tend to him when he was actually there.

- certainly, not to ask questions of his whereabouts.

The question seemed to shift his mood, the playful twinkle in his eyes dying down and he near scoffed at the question.

It was like someone had flipped a switch on the young man.

The relaxed posture he carried then became rather rigged as his shoulder squared, his spine straightened tightly before his arms crossed.

"Ah," he sounded, the breath coming out both blue and green at the same time.

" Jonathan you ask..." he started.

He hadn’t even crossed Dio’s mind that day, strange as it was.

'Jonathan you always plead,' he inwardly thought with a bitter taste in his mouth.

‘To think I've spent my day just thinking of coming home to you... and one of the first things you ask is of Jonathan,’ he inwardly sighed.

"- He's with that country girl again," he said with a scowl, very clearly bothered, and only assuming that’s where he was.

That’s where he’s been for the past week after all.

"It seems as though she's returned," he added lowly, remembering how years prior, soon after the incident between them, she'd suddenly left.

Poor Jonathan had been crushed, and while that would have certainly been a point for Dio to enjoy, it quickly turned dour when he noticed how much more attentive (f/n) was to him.

Jonathan's sorrow became her concern, and the plunge he would have had become less brutal.

The brat was pampered even moreso, and all throughout the while Dio clenched his fists in utter annoyance and frustration.

That night as he’d followed her, he couldn't help but seethe, especially when after their tussle, she'd snuck in to see Jonathan.

Jonathan sat on his bed, his eyes cast down, not quite looking at (f/n) as she delicately brushed a little cotton swab over his lower lip.

He winced slightly as he felt the sting of the liquid it had been dabbed in, all as (f/n) offered him a sympathetic smile.

She wasn’t trying to hurt him, in fact, she was doing her best to help.

Her other hand touched his jaw, holding him still as she eyed his bruised flesh with concern.

Granted Jonathan and Dio had yet to properly see eye to eye, but it shouldn’t have been enough for them to have such aggression towards each other.

The other boy had only stayed with them for a few weeks and yet there was so much animosity between them, it was strange.

"Why were you two fighting ?" she questioned him with worry, and it received a low sigh.

The Joestar sat silently, frustrated.

He couldn't possibly tell her, simply because that would mean spreading word of what occurred, further tarnishing Erina's name, even if he trusted (f/n).

Even if (f/n) was not someone to gossip, he wouldn't want to continue to sully a poor maiden's name.

"It was...nothing," Jonathan breathed. "It was only a short scuffle," he told her, to which (f/n) responded with, with upturned brows.

"A short scuffle does not end in so much blood and bitterness," she argued back, her thumb brushing over his bottom lip with tenderness.

"Your father-"

Jonathan stopped her before she could continue, his hand falling onto her wrist.

The hold was kind, no form of wickedness in it as his fingers circled around it, only gentleness as it then slid up and his palm slid across her flesh.

His palm covered her hand, and as the contact lasted, her eyes went wide.

And she looked on with a dazzling twinkle.

"Jonathan..." she murmured, the sound breathy, whatever she was going to say, forgotten.

Slowly, his face began to warm, the new color that had spread noticeable.

"Ever so considerate..." he said softly, tenderness in his eyes as he gazed at her, knowing the worry, acknowledging it, and accepting it with an open heart that was swayed by the simple look alone.

"I know you worry," he told her, " But please..." he then added.

"Please do not ask me more." he pleaded.

"It is not because I do not trust you, but because it isn't a matter that is mine to speak of," he assured her, and (f/n) nodded with understanding.

“Just know that I appreciate this,” he told her while slowly letting go. “I appreciate everything you do for me (f/n),” he added while continuing to glow.

It was strange.

Erina’s friendship was something that made him feel ecstatic. It made him feel happy and alive.

- She made him feel those things.

Her attention made his heart flutter.

But so did (f/n).

(f/n) also made him feel that way, and perhaps other things that he just couldn’t put a name to, but knew were earnest.

-And he thought to himself that perhaps there was a reason she shouldn’t be alone in his room so late at night.

He swallowed down thickly as his other hand trembled to take hold of her other hand, wanting the contact, but for some reason stopped.

Why was it so difficult now when before, it was something that was done without a second thought. Before, they would interlock fingers, and they’d hold on tight as they spun in circles as they sung little songs.

They’d even take turns in picking each other up just for fun.

Why was contact so...strange now?

The last time they’d been alone in his room was months ago, a little over three, and it was quite different now.

So different.

He reasoned that maybe it was because now he mused over how pretty she was, over how much she looked lovely, not just cute, and it made him nervous.

- (f/n) now made him nervous, so nervous that touches made him become flustered.

Their silence was interrupted by a little gasp that came from his bedroom’s door.

Agatha stood there with rounded eyes as she saw the two.

Jonathan was sitting on his bed while (f/n) stood before him, cradling his cheek, touching it lovingly as his own hand found home over hers.

And his other was just an inch away from taking hold of the one at her side.

It all looked rather compromising, but not any more than the surprised faces they wore, and not as incriminating as the terror in their eyes that showed at being caught.

The elder woman’s mouth was shut tight, her lips pressed thin as she hurried over to the two.

Her immediate response was to pull (f/n) by her arm, dragging her out of the room with silence that ceased when she reached the exit.

She looked over at the young master with worry, worry for her, for (f/n) and for Jonathan himself.

“-Not a word of this...to anyone,” she said gravely in a harsh whisper while looking at Jonathan, promising to him her silence, and in return hoping for the same.

(f/n) had promised Agatha she did nothing wrong, or rather, nothing inappropriate.

Because, technically, it was wrong of her to be there, but she explained how she was just worried, and that all she’d done was tend to his little cuts and bruising.

She then told her word for word what had happened, and as sweet as the older maid was on the young girl, she was sure to be stern when she scolded her.

“I trust you (f/n). You are a good girl. And master Jonathan is a good boy too...” she said while trialing off, not knowing if she had to have the talk with her.

The serious one that would explain that certain feelings, no matter how pure they started, could end in disaster.

- Was it too early, too soon?

It’d be different if she didn’t live in the same home as a boy that she certainly had feelings for.

‘I just don’t want her making the same mistakes I did,’ she thought with a heavy weight anchoring her shoulders.

‘I just wish you’d stay little forever,’ she thought with upset, battling with the part of her that didn’t want to see her grow older.

“I do...But if anyone else were to have seen you...they would have thought differently,” she reasoned, and (f/n) nodded with understanding.

Some time after Jonathan had gathered the courage to approach the elder servant to clear the air, and he apologized too, swearing that nothing had occurred.

He stated that he cared about (f/n) too much to ever do anything that would tarnish her name.

The young boy was sweet, he was caring and truthful, and so Agatha sighed softly, shaking her head as she accepted the apology, hoping it would be the only time something similar would occur.

"What was her name...what was her name, " Dio then wondered aloud, all as (f/n) waited with rounded eyes.

He really had trouble even remembering the girl's name, and throughout then he even closed his eyes in frustration, trying to concentrate and find the little compartment in his brain where the name might lay.

"A girl..?" (f/n) dumbly repeated.

"Yes," he hummed, seeming to think harder as he then took his right hand and placed it to his temple, turning away from her and pacing back, "what WAS her name? For the life of me I cannot remember," he said while the young woman trailed behind him, strummed to his every word, shadowing his every step with hands that were pressed together in a tight clasp.

As he gave (f/n) a side-eyed glance, he noticed she mirrored his steps, following dutifully until he came to a halt, forcing her an abrupt stop that almost tumble her over.

"Dio? Can you really not remember?" she then asked, waiting for him to tell her, and he gave her a pouty, little frown.

"Well, She is ever so unimportant to me," he started, slowly realizing why she fretted so much.

It hadn't really dawned upon him why until he saw her wait so desperately, so strum along his answer.

Admittedly, he felt like an idiot for not realizing why it mattered so much at first.

"...Ever so, that I simply cannot recall...but I should given that Jojo seems so...enthralled with her," Brando continued while his index tapped the point of his chin.

‘Will you finally understand then?’ he silently questioned her. ‘If you know that he’s seeing someone... so unlike you...’

As he muttered the last bit there was a soft uplift to the corner of his mouth, and he smirked away at the very idea, all as she was so immersed into her own brooding suffrage and thoughts of the Joestar to realize.

"I suppose nothing has changed," he then added offhandedly.

"What do you mean by that?" (f/n) questioned him.

"Hm..Has he said nothing to you?" he then asked, turning back to her and forcing her to run into him, "Surely he's mentioned her to you," he said while his hands fell upon her forearms, holding her still for a moment as he steadied her, all as she numbly moved.

"No..." she answered lowly, her voice petal-soft. "He hadn't spoken to me...as of late," she informed him, downhearted, feeling forgotten.

"He's been a stranger to me..." she lamented. "I hadn't known he'd been seeing someone," she added.

"... that he'd made a new friend." she then added, trying to smile.

"but I'm happy he's made a new friend." her heart tried to focus on the word, on the very idea that perhaps they were just friends, even if it just so happened to be a girl.

'Jojo has met someone new. He's just excited to have someone new,' she thought to herself, knowing that even if he was kind, friendships were hard to come across.

'he shouldn't be confined to himself,' she added, knowing she was being selfish, convincing herself that if Jonathan could be her friend, then he could be so to someone else...Right?

" New Friend?" Dio chuckled, unable to help himself from sounding amused.

He was truly amused that Jonathan hadn’t bothered to tell (f/n), not once.

And (f/n) who knew all of Jonathan knew nothing of Erina.

‘Interesting,’ he mused.

“He’s known Erina for years now,” he informed her.

“if you recall a few years ago he was rather blue, did he ever tell you why?” he questioned her, and (f/n) shook her head no.

She’d been there throughout, but he never quite told her.

He’d always stay quiet, and she only felt worse because it must have been something that truly hurt him for him not to want to share.

And she’d had a suspicion it had to do with the fight with Dio, because the mood had shifted only a few days after the brawl.

‘He’d said to trust him,’ (f/n) thought to herself, reasoning that if she never asked, it wasn’t because she didn’t care, but that she took his words to heart.

And she never bothered to ask Dio either, especially given that during the time she hadn’t been close enough to ask him anything.

Sure she’d had another perspective of him, but she was still uncomfortable around him.

She then wondered how could an entire person that seemed so dear to Jonathan have slipped past her.

“It was because Erina left. and she left poor Jojo without even a goodbye. The poor thing was crushed,” he said while telling the truth, leaving out his entire hand during the time, not mentioning that she hadn’t said a word because of the shame she felt.

-The shame she felt at losing her first kiss to Dio, and not Jonathan who she’d pinned for.

Jonathan who had only a day before confessed to her that he hoped she would be in his life forever and had carved a heart on wood.

To think he’d been able to crush their romance before it had even begun.

" So I'd say she's more than a friend," he added with a touch of amusement.

‘She was hardly even his girlfriend,’ he mused darkly because they hadn’t even gotten to that point.

"Tell me, have you ever carved your initials in a heart before?" he asked her, having seen the new fresh carving the day before, and it surely meant something.

"Posted on wood for all to see?" he questioned her coyly as she slowly shrunk.

Just as she felt, her body slumped into a defeated state, and she took in a shaky breath before answering,

"Never..." she said while not admitting that a couple of times before she'd done so, but on her own accord.

Within the pages of an old diary, there were plenty of little hearts scattered, and Jonathan's name scribbled down with so much tenderness that the lines had been perfect and smooth.

Back when they'd been children no older than 10 she'd begun the doodles, and while now the pages of her new book were devoid of the childish, little drawings, they, as her had matured.

In place were words of endearment.

Poems.

- Love letters all dedicated to the Joestar, who had yet to see her affection, and who, as it sounded, had found their own muse.

“(f/n)…(f/n) “ he tutted, “Poor, naïve (f/n),” he said with a touch of mockery evident.

“Let’s face it, he'd never love you, have you yet to understand?” he nearly sneered, the words spoken with a serpent's tongue, touched with just the slightest hiss that conveyed all of the venom that brewed within him throughout.

He could see how much the revaluation hurt her, and he felt bitter because he knew that in spite of it, she still held onto hope.

- Hope that Jonathan would see her instead.

Cruelty and sinister like as though he harbored spite for her, he continued to sneer, “A lowly wench such as yourself, You’re nothing but a servant in his eyes,” He reminded her, his soft words seething with envy, boiled to a point it could no longer be properly contained.

“ All he does is use you, can’t you see?” He questioned her with a soft pout, while all the while she silently shook her head, not believing in his poisoned tongue, convinced it came from a dark place.

Her ears took in the malicious words, yet her heart worked tirelessly to counter the evil, convincing her that at the end of the day, it was all lies.

However, despite that, she felt a twinge at her heart, the muscle aching because it hadn’t been the first time she’d been reminded of her position.

- And it certainly wouldn't be the last.

“You and your naïve nature,” he murmured, cursing at a very trait he oftentimes found endearing and thought too much about.

What made her sweet made him sour.

What made her weak, made him seek to protect her.

“You and your foolish heart,” he said while grabbing her wrist, tugging her to him, causing her to crash into him.

Hastily, her hands both placed at his chest to stop an even closer collision, her hurt, dimmed eyes wide as she stared up at him, unknowing of just what his intentions were.

‘Dio wouldn’t hurt me,’ She told herself, ‘But sometimes… not so much as before...He can be brash,’ She then argued.

Throughout the years he was less inclined to react upon his anger, becoming a more rational man, however in various little instances she would see his eyes ignite, his form become ridged, as well as watch as his thick brows curve deeply into displeasure he couldn’t hide.

'He hardly ever scowls now,' she then realized, but that all changes right when reciting this very well preformed argument.

'But he’s nearly a brute when we speak of this.'

She then thought to herself, still remembering all of his sweet grasps that pulled her to him, easing her back up from the drastic drops her heart would descend from.

More than once he'd serve as a pillar, standing there in the wake, sometimes waiting for her to lean, and other times moving on his own accord.

The circumstances differed, but there was always an embrace that followed, one that let her know that he would never hurt her.

- That he was sorry.

He then pulled her arm out, spinning her around to where his chest came in contact with her back.

An arm coiled around her midsection whilst as his opposite hand moved to hold her jaw, forcing her to look forward at the place she’d always considered home,

“ I want you to see that All of this…” he started, his eyes skimming over every luxurious interior piece of the mansion, “All of this… It will one day be his.” He added, knowing that by right it all belonged to the Joestar.

Even if there was a promise to him, it would always belong to Jonathan by right.

“- While you have nothing.

While you come from nothing,” he continued on, and for just a moment his eyes held a vulnerability he was grateful she couldn't see because the same could be said about him and the accursed blood that ran through his very being.

‘You weren't born into this luxury.

You don’t belong.

You and I... We will always be looked down upon by their kind,’ He silently spoke.

Why couldn't she see?

why couldn't she just understand?

Why hasn't he been able to tear them apart?

‘Why do you continue to wait for him?’ he wondered.

“ All those years ago, while you were here scrubbing away at filth he spent his day happily frolicking along fields and ponds with Erina Pendleton,” He informed her, the sudden revelation causing (f/n) to freeze, stunned.

“And now of course, they walk along town side by side and he seems unashamed to be seen with her,” he told her.

“ And father seems to approve...” he added lowly.

“ Erina…?” (F/n) said confused, a small shudder coursing through her at the name she’d never heard before.

“Her name is Erina?” She asked, tilting her head back, blinking up at the man with a halted breath, her eyes already wet.

For some reason knowing the name struck her fierce, whatever doubt she had before cemented with certainty that scathed.

At the question, the man's face lit up with delight and the grin he wore was accented by the devious twinkle in his eyes,

"Yes... Erina Pendleton," he confirmed. " I seem to recall now. She’s A very proper young lady," he told her, “With bright blue eyes and golden hair that is almost silk-like,” he praised, not having seen the young woman as of late, but none the less saying so.

“- A lovely sight,” he assured her.

The last he remembered she was just a brat, one that had scathed him when she dared to slurp filthy water than to remain with the taste his lips.

At the thought, he felt annoyed because it wasn’t like he even felt a shred of attraction for the damn girl, yet she had the nerve to deny him before those other fools that pointed and laughed at him.

And he wondered if he took a savor of the pretty, red lips before him, would they give in?

Or would she be so dutiful to Jonathan, that she too would reject him so crassly?

Or...would she realize that there was something better than the Joestar?

"To think he's known her for years, and has never mentioned her to you...not once," he said to her.

"Concerning isn't it?" he questioned her.

" Perhaps he is being thoughtful though,” he then reasoned, “ Seeing as you two are nothing alike,” he informed her.

“You are right...he is kind and wouldn’t tell you just how much you don’t fit into his taste,” he said with consideration.

“I mean...her hands are soft, unlike yours," he said grasping at her hand, encasing it in his larger, stronger one.

He forced the palm to face them, both as he spoke,

" one look at these and one could determine your nothing but a lowly servant, " he said with a tut, and at that she tried to pull them away, hoping to stuff them beneath her apron to obscure the sight, but his hold did not relent.

Years ago, a handful ago, he'd made a comment about them, a rather innocent one that hadn’t really been anything meant to hurt her, but letting her know how rough they felt at the palms, and it was enough for her to grow unconfident about them.

It was enough for her to not want Jonathan to look at them.

It was enough to make her not want anyone to feel them.

And every night, with worry she'd soothe cream onto the flesh, detesting how no matter what she saw, they seemed ugly.

They didn't look delicate to her. They didn't seem as soft as they should be.

- How would anyone ever ask for her hand?

"Let's face it," he huffed, " no amount of smudged colors and pretty hand me downs can hide that," he told her, his right hand holding her cheek, wiping away the fallen tear and as his thumb wiped down, it rotated again to wipe off the touch of red that decorated her lower lip.

"I've told you plenty of times before, that no matter what you do. No matter how much you plea and pray… he will never lay his eyes on you," He said to her as the red smudged.

"And even if he dared…" he started, hearing her weep, "even if he dared to set his eye-”

"Please Dio… p-please no more..." She begged, sniffling, trying to hold back her tears as she tried to shake him off.

His hold on her loosened, a firm press to his lips as he released her, watching her stumble forward, her hands pressed to her chest as the muscle within bled, crying out in pain at the many stab wounds that had struck her.

She fell to her knees, her crying face pointed down as she continued to shed tears.

They fell and decorated the polished floor, the little globs soon forming a very tiny pond of sorrow beneath her.

'You're reminded of your place.

It’s as it should be.

It serves you right …

And yet…

- and yet,' he thought to himself as he bit his tongue.

'Tch…' he was quick, his arms wrapped around her, holding her close, forcing her head down onto his chest.

"Enough…" he said softly, his voice low and nearly silent as he looked up to the ceiling, vexed.

Yet again he gave in, going from bitter to sweet in an instant.

“it’s nothing to cry over,” he said quietly.

‘Jonathan isn’t something to cry over,’

He inwardly cursed at the circumstances, because to break Jonathan he needed to sever every tie that could pull him back.

And right before him was the most powerful anchor.

he could not break Jonathan without destroying (F/n).

And it frustrated him.

Even if Erina had Jonathan's attention now, losing (f/n) would certainly be a wound that would not heal.

" I already know!" She said back, her voice muffled by his shoulder where she leaned in.

"I know I'm worth nothing!" she cried out,

" I know he’d never love me!

I know I'm nothing more than a filthy servant," she said to him, finally voicing out the ugly thoughts she’s had.

'An abandoned child without love.

Always in search of even a fragment of tenderness...' she held onto him desperately before her fingers dug into him, finding enough strength to cling to him.

She continued to cry until another voice interrupted.

'No, No, No!' she inwardly. 'Don't you remember?' she thought to herself.

"Not...not Jojo," She started, sounding unconvinced at first before she seemed to gather her thoughts properly.

" He doesn't care about any of that," she then said while her hold loosened, the desperation she clung to Dio lessening as she fought against his own say.

"Not him..." She said while delicately shilling, the expression she wore so frail, that just a single word could shatter it.

“Anyone but him,” she said.

" (f/n) ," He said to her, his voice low and soft, the edge to it gone as he then attempted to reach for her fallen tears that still fell and clung to her lashes.

“- You must understand.”

His palm nearly touched her wet cheek before she turned away.

Turning her face away, she collected them on her own, and with the single motion, she did more harm to him than any strike ever fallen onto his flesh.

His stomach fell, and it anchored his heart into the same downward route.

She couldn't even look at him, and during then he shook.

The kind reaching hand then fisted angrily, trembling with loathing, for not her, but for the Joestar who always had her tied to him.

- For Dio himself for holding her so dear.

"I despise this... weakness," he said to himself as he stood, glaring down at the woman with eyes that had hardened the saddened pools of warmth into cold cut ruby stone before she could realize how much he was pained.

" I detest you," he then added as he watched her, their sights connected as she gave him the same look as always.

Tender, and sweet, as well as saddened and holding just the lightest touch of pity directed to him.

She didn't raise her voice at him, nor did she accuse him of anything.

She didn't retaliate for what was an attack against her, instead, staying calm, the remains of her sorrow still evident on her face, but no longer flowing.

" I cannot stand that damnable sight of you," he continued on as he took in the affection that was directed to him, especially the tenderness that existed, but was just a hair strand away from love.

because everything that had crossed that line was meant for someone else, devoted to another person who always found a way to persevere.

"You are nothing but a fool," he finally said, speaking loudly and eyeing her, but addressing his own self.

He would have been able to accomplish so much had she not existed.

She was always in the middle, and whenever bad came to Jonathan it only drove her closer to the Joestar.

If his ties were severed elsewhere, she waited openly, only adding more strength to their own bond.

She was a nuisance to his effort, and while he would have easily been able to have gotten rid of her with some sort of plan.

- Any coercion or devious scheme, it always pained him to even think that she'd suffer.

She'd suffer because of him. She'd despise him, inevitably and with certainty, she'd despise him.

And the idea pained him in a way that just burned.

At one point he'd wondered if he put aside everything else, then he could share whatever good he had with her.

But to do that, she'd have to let go of Jonathan, which was something she'd never do.

So, his options were to just live without her, but have a fortune, or to have nothing and still be without her.

"A fool..." he repeated as he continued to glare at her.

Past whatever pain she felt and had consumed her, she then lifted her chin, just enough for a person that was sure of themselves,

"I am...aren't I ?" she asked him, a smile that pained him being offered.

" For loving someone who hurts me so much," she told him, "Who takes my heart and crushes it whenever they feel upset, " she mused while standing on her own.

"Who's own heart is so wounded, they believe that is the way mine should be," she added while continuing to smile at him.

‘Dio... even if it were for my own good, it’s like you hold bitterness towards me, when i’ve only ever offered my friendship to you, my care.’

"At least when Jonathan hurts me, it comes from not knowing, from not being aware of what I feel.

But you?

- When you hurt me....you know what blows to deal, and you strike low whenever you can." she said with hurt.

“ For you to know these things... it’s because I trust you... I trust you not to hurt me.” she told him.

‘Sometimes... I think you know me better than Jonathan because there are things I cannot tell him....things he would not understand. Things I am too ashamed to speak of...’

“But you do so anyways...whenever the mood strikes you do so,” she lamented.

"And I'm not sure if I can - If i..." she seemed to lose her certainty, and instead she bit her lip with discomfort, her eyes cast away.

‘ Can’t you see... It hurts me more to have you against me. It muddies my feelings when you do this...when you hurt me, then hold me,’ she thought with confusion, unable to understand.

‘Can’t you see that when you say these things... they sound as though you believe them yourselves...as though you see me as nothing...’

She thought with pain, her eyes welling with tears again.

She shook her head quickly, "I need to get back to my duties," she said instead.

"-To do what A servant does. "She said with a less than convincing smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"If you need me, young master...I will be where I belong today, as every day," she informed him before brushing past him.

The single address so formal it was nearly cold, made his breath halt.

Her heart ached, but not so much as his as he stood there stilly, struck by a great pain that stopped him from reaching out for her and pulling her back as his immediate thoughts told him to do.

He continued to stay there in silence, and inwardly cursed at his brother, detesting him furthermore.

Yes Dio likes her, he’s terribly in love. but he’s so damn stubborn and stupid he doesn’t just accept that he straight up loves her and contradicts himself so much.

- I don’t give a shit about you, but like, I actually do.

-Why can’t you see he’s not the one for you.

His love isn’t perfect, its’ somewhat sick and toxic. He acts on jealousy, a lot. And he does tend to offend her with his own insecurities because of his own origins.

The whole Jonathan and Erina thing, imma add more to that soon. Obviously I changed things up to fit.

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