redrawsfornellie

[redrawsfornellie]

GIORNO / FUGO / NARANCIA / POLNERAFF!!!

[redrawsfornellie]

VENOM MASQUERADE MAGAZINE

[redrawsfornellie]

Giorno ravioli and fugo....pannacotta (uh fugos last name is the dessert for my non jojo watchers)

[redrawsfornellie]

Ground Zero : Prologue

Where is home?

Xavier stood at the edge of his sister’s room, his hesitation clear as he watched Tyra stare intently at her laptop. The glow of the screen bathed her face in soft light, making her expression difficult to read. He took a deep breath, steeling himself to break the silence.

"I’m uncertain if this is wise," he began, his voice tentative. Tyra’s fingers hovered above the keyboard for a moment, but she didn’t respond. Xavier’s frustration grew. "It's been ages since we've been off this island," he continued, hoping to get through to her. "The younger ones are afraid, as are some of the others. We can’t just uproot everything and leave. We’ve spent our entire lives building this place, teaching the Genesis people to think and act… we can’t just—"

"YES WE CAN."

Tyra’s voice cut through the room like a whip, sharp and sudden. She slammed her laptop shut, her eyes meeting Xavier’s in a fierce stare. He flinched, but before he could react, Tyra’s expression softened, and she let out a deep breath. "I’m sorry, Xav," she said, her voice quieter now. "I didn’t mean to snap."

Xavier relaxed, but only slightly. The intensity in Tyra’s gaze hadn’t lessened. She stood up and crossed the room, pacing near the window, her silhouette outlined against the dimming sky outside.

"We’re not confined here anymore," she continued, more measured but still resolute. "We can leave, Xavier. We can reconnect with the world we were kept from for so long. Do you know how long I’ve waited for this? I never thought Diane would get to see the places we dreamed about, and now… now we can."

Her voice wavered slightly, but it wasn’t hesitation—it was a deep yearning. "I won’t let anyone hold me back," she declared, though the words were more for herself than him. "Not you. Not anyone."

Xavier swallowed hard, sensing her determination. Despite the cold dread clinging to his chest, he knew she was right. The Genesis people had lived in isolation for too long, hidden away by their father’s decisions. But fear still gnawed at him, especially for the younger ones—those who had never controlled their powers fully.

"What about the kids?" he asked quietly. "Diane, Aiden, Jessa… They can’t just leave this place and face the world unprepared. Our home may be small, but it’s safe. They’ve only known the island. How will they cope with everything outside?"

Tyra paused and looked down, her fingers trembling slightly. She rubbed her face, trying to smooth the tension from her brow. "I know, Xav," she said softly. "I know. But it’s not just about them, is it? This isn’t just about us. The Genesis people… the ones outside the island… they’ve been out there, alone, for years. When Father locked us away, he abandoned them too. Who knows what they’ve been through?"

She turned back to face him, and there was a guilt in her eyes that made Xavier’s chest tighten. "We need to go, Xav. They need us. The Gens in Africa, in Asia, even in the Americas... We were supposed to protect them. We can’t wait any longer."

Xavier hesitated, his mind racing. "But can’t we just wait a little longer? Maybe another year?" He swallowed again, his voice faltering. "Some of the younger ones haven’t controlled their powers yet. What if something goes wrong?"

Tyra shook her head, her voice firm once more. "We’ve waited too long already. Six months was enough. We start leaving next week. Some will follow, maybe a couple thousand. Others will stay behind, but we have to go. The Genesis need to rejoin the world, Xav. They need to be free. Their abilities shouldn’t be hidden or exploited. They deserve to be celebrated, and I won’t abandon them."

Xavier fell silent, the weight of her words heavy on his shoulders. He realized how much thought she’d put into this, how much she’d wrestled with the past, with what their father had done to them.

"You’ve thought a lot about what happened to us, haven’t you?" he asked quietly.

Tyra’s face softened, and for the first time in a while, she looked fragile. She gave a small, bitter smile. "Yeah… more than I care to admit."

June 2, 2006 - 7:00 PM

Beatrice cradled Diane in her arms, rocking the little girl who had been crying for what seemed like hours. The others—children like them—hobbled back to the manor in a ragged line, clinging to one another, broken and beaten. The attack had left them all in pieces.

Inside, they collapsed, some on the floor, others on the furniture, too exhausted to care about the blood that stained the cushions. Their small bodies trembled with pain, too young to endure what they had just survived, yet still alive—barely.

Tyra’s legs felt like lead as she closed the door behind them, locking the world outside. She scanned the room, her heart hammering in her chest. The sight of her siblings sobbing, clutching their wounds—it felt unreal. She moved as if in a dream, numb to everything, her mind struggling to process the horror.

Beatrice shuffled over, her face pale and tear-streaked, holding out Diane to Tyra. "Take her," she whispered, her voice on the verge of breaking. "Please."

Tyra took the baby in her arms, her hands trembling as she gently unwrapped the blood-soaked blanket. Diane’s tiny body was marked with the same scar Tyra bore—a deep, jagged wound that ran from her back to her side. Tyra’s breath caught in her throat as her vision blurred with tears she couldn’t afford to shed. She held Diane close, rocking her gently, her mind screaming for a solution.

Beatrice knelt beside them, wiping her face furiously, trying to hold herself together. She reached out, her hand trembling as a soft light glowed from her palm—a stigmata. She pressed it to Diane’s back, concentrating, transferring what little healing magic she had left. Diane’s sobs slowly quieted to weak whimpers as the pain subsided.

"Th-that’s enough, Bea," Tyra said softly, grabbing her sister’s hand as blood dripped from Beatrice’s nose. "She’ll be okay now…"

Beatrice nodded, but the look of devastation in her eyes mirrored Tyra’s own.

Lana, clutching an unconscious Aiden, looked up at Tyra with wide, frightened eyes. "Wh-what do we do now?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

All eyes turned to Tyra, waiting for an answer she didn’t have. Her heart pounded in her ears, the weight of their trust suffocating her. She wasn’t their leader. She wasn’t strong like Hiroko or wise like Patience. She was just a child, too—but they needed her.

"We need to survive," she said finally, her voice firm despite the terror gnawing at her insides. "We need to heal each other, look after each other. Father isn’t who he said he was… we can’t trust him. Not anymore."

She hugged Diane closer, her voice growing more certain with every word. "I won’t let anything happen to you. Any of you."

Slowly, she stood, her small hand gripping the railing for support as she headed for the stairs. The others watched her, their silent hope resting on her shoulders. She paused, turning to face them one last time.

"I mean it. I love you guys, and I’m going to protect us. No matter what."

In shadows deep, a burden borne, An eldest daughter, innocence torn. At tender eight, life's harsh decree, An orphaned heart, a destiny.

Siblings small, with eyes so wide, She shelters them, their silent guide. Her laughter lost, her childhood fleet, In twilight's grasp, her fate complete.

No time for dreams, no time for play, Her purpose clear, come what may. She sacrifices, her needs unseen, To shield them from life's cruel sheen.

In solitude, she finds her strength, A beacon in the dark, at length. Her love a fortress, strong and true, A guardian fierce, through and through.

Though burdened young, her spirit old, Her story whispers, yet untold. An existential symphony, her plight, A beacon of hope, in endless night.

[redrawsfornellie]

Chapter 2 : Drawin' Together

Previous chapter (Start)

Pages: 5 Words: 2,072 Summary: Joanne forms a bond with luke and she reveals her goals and reasons she runs a store all by herself.

The soft light of the late afternoon sun filtered through the windows of Joanne's small candy shop, casting a golden glow across the closed-up storefront. Dust motes danced lazily in the beams of light, their movements slow and peaceful as they glided over rows of colorful jars, shelves packed with sweet delights, and the counter that had seen better days. The shop was closed for business, but its charm never faded, even when empty. A faint scent of sugar and cocoa lingered in the air, comforting and warm.

At the center of the shop, by a small round table that was more suited for customers enjoying sweets than for its current purpose, Joanne and Luke sat together, engrossed in their coloring books. The shop’s usual buzz was absent, replaced by the quiet scratches of crayons on paper and the occasional exchange of words. Joanne, with her wide, curious eyes, leaned over her coloring book, the pages filled with candy-themed illustrations that she was diligently bringing to life with vibrant hues.

Luke, on the other hand, had chosen a different approach. He wasn’t simply coloring; he was drafting, sketching in a meticulous, almost mechanical manner. His page, once a simple landscape of a park, had morphed into a series of architectural designs, complete with dimensions and annotations. His fingers moved swiftly, tracing blueprints for a building that seemed plucked from a futuristic cityscape, the lines precise, the concept intricate.

Joanne looked over at him, curious about the strange, almost methodical way he was drawing. She picked up a few crayons from the box between them and handed them to Luke, her fingers brushing his lightly as she smiled.

"So… what's your Stand?" she asked, her voice soft but filled with genuine interest. She'd seen him use it before, though the memory was a bit hazy. "I saw it make your body turn into… stuff. Like machines, right?"

Luke glanced up from his drawing, his brow furrowed in concentration as his fingers continued to move across the page. For a moment, he didn’t answer, as if he were lost in thought or maybe considering how best to explain something so personal. Finally, he stopped sketching and placed his crayon down carefully.

“My Stand?” Luke began, his voice calm but tinged with a certain pride. “It’s called Revolution. But I call it Revo… or Reva.” As he spoke, three small, mechanical creatures materialized near his shoulder. They were tiny, barely the size of Ferris wheels, with their bodies made up of floating gears and cogs. They whirred softly, hovering near him like miniature guardians.

Joanne’s eyes widened as she watched them float, their metallic surfaces catching the light in an almost hypnotic way. Luke shrugged as if their presence was as normal as the coloring books in front of them.

“I got it a couple of years ago,” he continued, his tone growing a little quieter, “when I was in the hospital.”

The admission was said so nonchalantly, but there was weight behind it—weight that Joanne didn’t miss. She didn't pry further, respecting whatever memories lay beneath those words. Instead, she nodded as Luke continued.

“Revo allows me to turn parts of my body into robotic pieces,” he explained, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “Kind of like those giant mechas you see in manga. I can transform my arms or legs into huge machines if I need to.” His voice dropped slightly. “It’s… useful. What about yours?”

Joanne straightened up, eager to share. She had always liked talking about her Stand, even though she had never met many people who could actually understand what having one meant. Luke was different. He was like her.

“My Stand is called Lollipop,” Joanne said, gesturing to her side, where her Stand manifested in the form of a tall, humanoid figure. The figure had magenta skin and heart-shaped hair, resembling a teenager not much older than Joanne herself. The Stand, sucking on a large, colorful lollipop, handed Joanne a piece of taffy without a word.

“I call her Poppy,” Joanne continued, popping the candy into her mouth with a smile. “She can turn ordinary things into lollipops. I think I’ve had her for as long as I can remember, but I don’t know exactly when she came into my life. It just feels like she’s always been there.”

Luke raised an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued by the simplicity yet uniqueness of Joanne’s Stand. Turning things into candy seemed like such a harmless power, especially when compared to his own ability to morph into a destructive force. It made Joanne seem even more innocent in his eyes.

“I’m sorry again about attacking you that day,” Joanne added quickly, her face flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and sincerity. “I didn’t know you had a Stand too. I’ve never met anyone else like me before. It’s kind of fun, though!” She giggled, her laughter light and infectious.

Luke couldn’t help but blush, his face reddening at how adorable she sounded. Her laughter was soft and melodic, the kind that seemed to chase away the shadows. His chest tightened with unfamiliar warmth, but he tried to maintain his composure, covering his mouth as if trying to suppress a grin.

“W-well,” he stammered, “there are plenty of people out there with Stands, you know. You should be careful. Not all of them are friendly, and some could try to hurt you for less.” His voice, although shaky, was tinged with a protective edge.

Joanne’s smile faltered, her brows knitting together at the thought of that. She hadn’t really considered the danger. Her Stand, after all, was more whimsical than powerful. All Poppy could do was turn objects into candy—nothing that could protect her in a fight. Her lips pursed in worry.

“I guess I didn’t think about that…” she admitted, her voice softening as reality began to sink in. “I’ll try to work harder so I don’t get hurt.”

Luke’s eyes widened as he realized he had caused her to worry. His heart raced, and he immediately began to fret, his hands fidgeting nervously.

“B-but don’t worry, Jojo!” he stuttered, the nickname slipping out before he could stop himself. “I-I said I’d help, remember? As long as I’m around, I can help protect you! Okay?” His voice grew more confident as he spoke, as if reassuring her was reassuring himself as well.

Joanne’s eyes sparkled with hope, and she looked at Luke with an expression of pure gratitude. “Really, Luke? You’d do that for me?”

Luke scratched the back of his head, looking away as his face turned a deeper shade of red. “Yeah… why not?”

Without warning, Joanne reached over and hugged him tightly, her arms wrapping around him as she buried her face in his shoulder. Luke froze, his face burning with embarrassment as his mind raced.

“O-okay, cut it out!” he mumbled, awkwardly patting her back before gently prying her off. He looked around the shop, desperate for a distraction from the awkwardness of the moment.

“Why are you running this place, anyway?” Luke asked, hoping to change the subject.

Joanne’s expression shifted, her excitement dimming as her tone softened. “Well…”

She hesitated, her voice catching in her throat as her eyes lowered to her hands. Luke noticed the sudden change in her demeanor and stopped coloring, his full attention now on her.

“My parents went missing,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “So I take care of the shop. It’s the only way I can afford to keep our house.”

Luke’s heart sank. He hadn’t expected that. Joanne was always so cheerful, so full of energy, that he hadn’t imagined she was carrying such a heavy burden. He set his crayon down, his face twisting into an expression of concern.

“Where are your mommy and daddy, Jo?” he asked softly.

Joanne’s lower lip quivered as a single tear escaped down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, refusing to let it show how much it hurt. “I don’t know,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “But I’m going to find them.”

“Find them?” Luke repeated, his brow furrowing. “But… you’re just a kid. Why haven’t you called the police?”

“I tried,” Joanne said, her voice cracking. “But they… they tried to take me away from my home.” Her childlike mind couldn’t fully comprehend the situation, but she knew one thing for sure: the police had wanted to place her in foster care or send her to some third-party home. They hadn’t understood that she didn’t need their help. She needed her parents.

“I’m going to find them,” she repeated, her resolve hardening. “And pretty soon, I’ll have just enough money to do that. No one has tried to help me, so I’ve had to do everything by myself.” Her voice broke as she spoke, the weight of her loneliness finally slipping through.

Luke watched her, his own heart aching in a way he didn’t fully understand. He didn’t have parents either, and even though he was just a young boy, he didn’t want Joanne to go through what he had. He clenched his fists, determination swelling inside him.

“You don’t have to look alone anymore,” Luke said firmly, his voice filled with quiet resolve. “I’ll help you.”

Joanne looked up at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You’d help me?”

Luke nodded, his expression serious. “Yeah… I’ll help you find your mommy and daddy. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Joanne’s face lit up with hope, and she reached out to grab his hands, squeezing them tightly. “Oh, Luke! Thank you! I promise, when we find them, you can eat at the candy shop for free! For life!”

Her excitement was contagious, and despite himself, Luke couldn’t help but smile. Joanne’s joy was infectious, and for a moment, the weight of their problems seemed to lift. They were just two kids in a candy shop, coloring and dreaming of a brighter future.

And as the sun began to set outside, casting long shadows across the empty store, Luke realized something: no matter how tough things got, he wasn’t going to let Joanne face them alone.

As Luke helped Joanne lock up the candy shop, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the town in a soft twilight. He pocketed the shop's keys, glancing around the quiet street. Joanne adjusted her backpack, and the two began their walk toward her home, their steps echoing in the stillness of the evening.

Unbeknownst to them, a pair of watchful eyes followed their every move. Sitting at the edge of the street, half-hidden in the shadows, was a dog. At first glance, it seemed like an ordinary mutt—just another stray wandering the town in search of scraps. But there was something bizarre, almost unsettling, about this animal.

It was an older-looking rough collie, its fur long and unkempt, with patches of graying brown and white. Its gaze was unnervingly focused, far more intelligent than any ordinary dog. Its head tilted slightly, ears perked up, as if it understood far more than a simple animal should.

The dog remained perfectly still as Luke and Joanne passed by, its eyes never leaving them. Though it stayed rooted to the spot, there was an eerie sense of purpose in its presence—a silent observer waiting for something. Neither Luke nor Joanne noticed it, too caught up in their conversation, but the dog didn’t move, blending back into the shadows as they disappeared around the corner.

For a moment, the street fell into silence again, but the rough collie stood there, watching.

Joanne pressed a finger to her chin, her brow furrowed with concern. "You really think other Stand users are gonna come after us?"

Luke let out a small sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. "Well, duh," he muttered, glancing off to the side. "I think, um, you know how, like, birds know their way home even when they've never been there? It's like... a brain magnet or something."

Joanne tilted her head, still trying to piece together what Luke was saying.

Luke continued, "I think people with Stands have that. Like, we're sorta drawn to each other without even thinking about it. So yeah, other Stand users might show up, and not all of them are gonna be friendly."

Joanne's eyes widened, and she gave a small nod, the weight of Luke's words sinking in.

[redrawsfornellie]

Chapter 1 : The Sun

Word Count: Approximately 1,162 words. Summary: The story begins with a nine-year-old Clark Kent watching as new neighbors, the Johnson family, move into the farmhouse next door.

The Kansas sun hung high in the sky, casting long shadows across the golden fields surrounding the Kent farm. Nine-year-old Clark Kent sat on the porch steps, his legs swinging back and forth as he watched the dust trail behind the moving truck rolling down the narrow dirt road. The truck creaked to a stop beside the neighboring farmhouse, a place that had been empty for as long as Clark could remember.

Clark tugged at the edge of his flannel shirt, feeling a mixture of curiosity and nervousness. New neighbors weren’t exactly common in Smallville, and the idea of meeting someone new made his heart race a little. He glanced back at the screen door behind him, where his mom, Martha Kent—or Ma Kent as everyone in town called her—was finishing up in the kitchen.

“You ready to meet the new folks?” Ma asked as she stepped out, carrying a large apple pie wrapped in a checkered cloth. Her smile was bright, but she had a keen way of noticing when Clark was uneasy.

“Yeah, I guess,” Clark replied, his voice a little higher than usual. He wasn’t scared exactly, but he couldn’t help feeling a little jittery.

Ma laughed softly and set the pie down for a moment, kneeling beside him. “They’re just people, Clark. Probably nervous, just like you are. But what’s the best way to meet new folks?”

Clark rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help grinning. “With kindness,” he said, parroting what Ma had told him a hundred times before.

“That’s right.” She ruffled his hair gently. “Now come on. Let’s give ‘em a proper Smallville welcome.”

Clark hopped off the porch, his boots kicking up little puffs of dirt as he and his mother made their way across the field that separated their farm from the neighbors’. He could see two men unloading furniture from the truck, lifting a couch and a couple of boxes toward the house. A woman stood nearby, shading her eyes with one hand as she surveyed the work. As Ma and Clark approached, the woman turned toward them and smiled.

“Hello there!” Ma Kent called out cheerfully, waving with her free hand.

The woman wiped her hands on her apron and walked over to greet them. Her hair was pulled into a neat bun, and her brown skin glowed in the sunlight. She looked warm and welcoming, the kind of person who could put anyone at ease with just a smile.

“Well, hello!” she said, her voice bright and full of energy. “You must be the Kents! I’m Flora Johnson. We’ve heard so many good things about you already.”

“And we’ve been lookin’ forward to meeting you,” Ma Kent replied, offering the pie with both hands. “We brought a little something—hope you all like apple pie.”

Flora’s eyes lit up as she accepted the pie. “Apple pie? Oh, this is just perfect! Thank you so much, Martha.” She handed Ma Kent a large glass jar filled with amber-colored honey. “My husband and I keep bees, so here’s a little something from our hive. You’ll never find better honey.”

Clark stood quietly by Ma’s side, his eyes flicking between the two women. He wasn’t sure when he was supposed to speak, and he felt like he was too big to hide behind Ma’s skirt but too shy to just stand there.

Flora seemed to notice Clark for the first time, her eyes softening as she bent down slightly to his level. “And who’s this handsome young man?”

“This is my son, Clark,” Ma Kent said with a proud smile. “Clark, say hello to Mrs. Johnson.”

Clark’s ears burned red as he mumbled, “Hello, ma’am,” keeping his eyes on the ground.

Flora chuckled softly. “A little shy, huh? Don’t worry, my daughter’s the same way. She’s around your age, but she’s probably hiding out in the barn right now. She’s not too thrilled about moving.”

Ma Kent gave Clark a gentle nudge. “Why don’t you go introduce yourself, Clark? I’m sure she’d love to meet someone her own age.”

Clark hesitated for a moment, but the idea of meeting someone new tugged at him, curiosity outweighing his nerves. “Okay,” he said, giving his mom a quick nod before walking toward the barn, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.

As he rounded the side of the barn, he spotted a girl standing on the other side of a wooden fence. Her curly black hair, tied back with a red scarf, bounced as she tried to scramble over the fence. Her overalls, covered in tiny embroidered flowers, were dirt-smudged, and her face was scrunched up in concentration as she pulled herself up, one foot barely managing to hook over the top rail.

Clark watched for a moment, biting back a laugh, before stepping closer. “Uh, what’re you doing?”

The girl startled, her grip slipping as she dropped back down to the ground with a soft thud. She spun around, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “I’m tryin’ to leave,” she muttered, wiping her hands on her overalls as she glared at him. “What’s it to you?”

Clark blinked, caught off guard by her bluntness. “Leave? But… you just got here.”

Layla frowned and crossed her arms. “I don’t like it here. What if the people here are mean? I don’t know anyone, and I don’t wanna be here.”

Clark tilted his head, thinking for a second before he stepped a little closer. “I’m not mean. And you know me now.”

The girl huffed but didn’t say anything, her stubbornness starting to crack a little.

“I’ll be your friend,” Clark said simply, his voice full of warmth. “That way, you don’t have to worry about not knowin’ anyone. I’m Clark, by the way.”

Layla’s frown slowly melted into something softer as she stared at him. Her cheeks flushed slightly as she dropped her arms to her sides. “I’m Layla,” she said quietly, kicking at the dirt with her boot. “You really wanna be my friend?”

Clark shrugged like it was the easiest thing in the world. “Why not? We’re neighbors, right? And I don’t got many friends either.”

Layla’s eyes widened a little, as if she couldn’t quite believe he meant it. She glanced back at the fence for a moment, then at Clark. Finally, she gave a small, hesitant smile. “You don’t seem like a bad neighbor.”

Clark smiled back, feeling a sense of relief and happiness spread through him. “And you don’t seem so bad yourself.”

Layla took a step forward, a little more confident now. “So… what do you do around here? Is there anything fun?”

Clark thought for a moment, then grinned. “Well, there’s a creek just down the hill. We can catch frogs and stuff. And sometimes Pa lets me drive the tractor. It’s pretty cool.”

Layla raised an eyebrow. “You can drive a tractor?”

Clark puffed out his chest a little. “Yup! Well, mostly just steer it. But it’s still fun.”

Layla giggled, the sound light and free. “Alright, that sounds kinda fun. Maybe this place won’t be so bad after all.”

Clark beamed, glad that he had managed to cheer her up. “Come on, I’ll show you the creek. It’s not far.”

Layla hesitated for a second, then nodded. “Okay, but you better not trick me.”

“I won’t!” Clark said with a laugh, already turning to lead the way. “Promise.”

As they walked back toward the barn, Layla glanced over at Clark, a small smile playing on her lips. Maybe this new place wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[redrawsfornellie]

First 3 generations of (nellies continuity) Joestars!

[redrawsfornellie]

Diane, my beloved

[redrawsfornellie]

Drawtober called for a vampiric badie

[redrawsfornellie]

Hey guys could you guys kindly donate to my Kofi, Not only do i need new tablet + software (i make money thru my art) , but i need some extra funds bc not only am i not employed but after being duped into a scam (i was talkint to these ppl for days and was under the impression i was going to be hired but foundout a bit too late they were a fraud place) my mom has cut me off finacially deeming me unworthy of her funds and i have like $80 in my bank acc alone. this isnt really good for my mental health esp since i have an ab/usive parent and may be homeless since she isnt starting to cut me off bit by bit after draining me for years finacially.

[redrawsfornellie]

Trying some more jojos stuff

[redrawsfornellie]

Chapter 2: Thorn The boy in my card

Word Count: 2,802 Rating: PG Summary: Briar Yui Discovers her card is a boy?!

Briar left the small card shop, her new card tucked safely into her jacket pocket as she wandered out of the town. She glanced around, soaking in her new surroundings, but her thoughts kept drifting back to the simple card she had just purchased. She pulled it out, turning it over in her hands, staring at the single word: "Rose." Curious and unsure of what it could do, Briar stepped to the side of the road and, with a hesitant breath, called out the card’s name.

“Rose!”

There was a sudden puff of smoke, and Briar waved her hand in front of her face, coughing as the thick cloud surrounded her. She squinted through the haze, expecting a flower, a perfume bottle, or maybe even some kind of effect to emerge from the card. Instead, a boy appeared. Not a monster, not a spell—an actual boy, about her age, though an inch shorter. Briar blinked in confusion, her eyes widening as the smoke cleared and she got a better look at him.

The boy had jet-black hair, peach-colored skin, and gold eyes that gleamed with an almost mischievous excitement. Briar noticed faint scars scattered across his body and clothes that seemed to fit a peasant's style, with a rose motif woven throughout his outfit. He was looking at her as though he’d just met an old friend. Briar, however, was anything but at ease.

“What the…?” she muttered, stepping back instinctively, her heart racing. She was expecting anything but a human figure to pop out of her card.

The boy smiled brightly, as if completely unfazed by her reaction. “It’s been a while since I’ve been outside. The game’s changed a lot,” he said, his voice filled with awe as he glanced around at the world beyond the card.

Briar frowned, backing up further. “Where did you come from?” she asked nervously. “What are you?”

The boy ignored her questions, continuing to take in his surroundings. Briar’s confusion deepened as she considered the possibility that he might be some kind of deity, a powerful being sealed within the card. Her mind raced with the thought of accidentally summoning something beyond her control.

She scrambled backward, trying to crawl away, but before she could get far, the boy appeared in front of her, his expression playful yet determined. “Where are you going?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Away from you!” Briar replied, her voice shaking. “I didn’t sign up for this! I bought a card, not a—whatever you are.”

He chuckled softly, his gold eyes twinkling with amusement. “You bought me,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m a powerful spell card, and you’re going to need my help.”

Briar shook her head, her heart pounding in her chest. “No, I didn’t. I bought a card that said ‘Rose,’ not a boy. And I definitely don’t need your help.”

The boy only laughed as Briar turned and ran. She sprinted through the small town and out into the wilds of the island, desperate to distance herself from the strange boy who had emerged from her card. Hours passed, and as the sun began to set, Briar found herself at the edge of a dense forest. She set up camp, sitting down to eat a meager meal, trying to calm her frayed nerves.

“I can just buy a new starter card tomorrow,” Briar muttered to herself. “I’ll forget all about this weird ‘Rose’ card.”

But as she took her first bite of food, the scent of her meal attracted unwanted attention. From the shadows, a group of rough-looking duelists emerged. They were older, tougher, and their intentions were clear. Bandits.

“Hand over your money, girl,” one of them growled, pulling out a jagged, rusted knife.

Briar’s heart dropped as she stood up, backing away slowly. “I don’t want any trouble,” she said, her voice shaking. “Just leave me alone.”

But the bandits weren’t interested in talking. One of them lunged forward, trying to snatch Briar’s bag, and she bolted. Her heart raced as she dodged between trees, but the bandits were faster, and soon she was cornered, trapped against the trunk of an enormous oak.

Just as the lead bandit reached out to grab her, a thunderous roar echoed through the forest. Briar looked up in horror as a massive, grotesque beast burst through the underbrush. It was covered in thick, thorny vines, its body twisting and writhing like a monstrous plant. The creature stood at least ten feet tall, its eyes glowing a deep crimson as it let out a menacing snarl. Its body was composed entirely of dark, thorn-covered branches that coiled and snapped like the tails of serpents.

The bandits froze in terror as the creature towered over them. One of them hesitated, their eyes wide with fear, but the leader sneered and drew a sword, its rusted blade glinting in the dying light. "It’s just a monster card," he muttered, trying to sound brave. "We can take it."

With a blood-curdling roar, the beast lunged at the attackers. Its thorny tendrils lashed out, whipping through the air like razors. The bandits barely had time to react as the first of them was slashed across the chest, his armor offering no protection against the razor-sharp vines. He screamed, dropping to the ground as the thorns tore through his clothing and skin. Another bandit tried to strike at the beast with his sword, but the creature's vines wrapped around the weapon, snapping it in two as if it were nothing more than a twig.

The bandits scrambled backward, their bravado crumbling as the beast unleashed its fury. One by one, they turned and fled into the woods, leaving their fallen comrades behind. The thorny creature didn’t give chase. Instead, it stood tall, its crimson eyes scanning the clearing before turning its gaze to Briar.

Panting, Briar tried to climb up a nearby tree, but her foot slipped, and she fell, hitting her head on a low-hanging branch. Dizzy and disoriented, she called out weakly for help, but before she could hit the ground, she was caught in the monster’s thorny arms. Its jagged exterior softened, the vines retracting as the beast began to shrink and transform.

To Briar’s astonishment, the creature’s body shimmered and morphed, until, standing before her once again, was the boy from before. He held her gently, his expression calm and composed as he lowered her to the ground.

“W-What just happened?” Briar stammered, her heart pounding in her chest. “Who… what are you?”

The boy grinned, brushing a hand gently across the bruise on her forehead. Where his fingers touched, small rose buds bloomed, soothing the pain. “You needed saving,” he said simply. “So I saved you.”

Briar blinked in confusion, still trying to process everything that had just happened. “Why? Why are you helping me?”

The boy smiled softly. “Because you’re my summoner now. And I think we’re going to make a great team.”

Briar stared at him, unsure of what to say. He brushed the dirt off her clothes, dusting her off before stepping back. “Your name’s Briar, right? That’s funny, ‘cause guess what?” He grinned wider. “My name’s Thorn.”

Briar’s cheeks flushed slightly as Thorn’s golden eyes twinkled with amusement. He gave her a small, playful bow, his rose-themed outfit swaying in the evening breeze. “I want to be your spiritual companion,” he declared, his voice full of confidence.

Briar hesitated, still unsure of what she had gotten herself into, but something about Thorn made her feel… safe. Maybe, just maybe, this strange boy could be the ally she never knew she needed.

-

Chapter 2: A New Bond

Briar and Thorn made their way to a quieter area of the forest to set up camp. Thorn, ever the gentleman, assisted Briar in walking as she was still sore from her earlier encounter. Briar, still in shock, sat down on a log, her cheeks flushed from both embarrassment and the earlier ordeal. Her mind was racing, trying to make sense of everything that had happened.

“How… how did you wind up in the Rose card?” Briar asked, trying to steady her voice. She glanced up at Thorn, who was busy gathering some fallen branches for their campfire. Thorn’s smile faltered slightly, a shadow of reluctance crossing his face.

“This game can get pretty dangerous,” he replied, his tone evasive. “That’s all I can say.”

Briar’s thoughts drifted back to the thorny beast Thorn had morphed into earlier. “And that thing back there,” she began, her voice trembling slightly, “is that what you become?”

Thorn shrugged nonchalantly, plucking some flowers from his skin and removing the vines from his legs. “I can be. That form is known as the Tenebrose Beast. I told you I was a powerful card,” he said with a wink. He began weaving the flowers together, using the petals to gently wipe the blood and dirt from Briar’s face. Briar was still processing everything, and her confusion was palpable.

“Why… why did you say your name was Thorn?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

“That’s right! Thorn Levy!” Thorn announced proudly, a wide grin on his face.

“Th-Thorn… why do you want to be my…” Briar hesitated, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of red. “Companion?”

Thorn moved closer, gently taking her hands in his. “Because you’re my Rose Princess!” he said with enthusiasm. Then he added more seriously, “Well, I don’t have many options, so I’ll take anyone as my summoner. I just want to be your favorite card, the one you call upon. That way, maybe one day… I can go home.”

Briar’s eyes widened. “Go home?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “Is… is there anything else?”

“No,” Thorn said with a sigh. “I just want to go home. Having a summoner who regards me as a spiritual companion helps.”

Briar swallowed hard, her mind racing with the implications. “Alright, then. If I accept you, will you help me win the game, get cards, duel, and all that?”

“Oh yes! Yes, I will!” Thorn said, standing up enthusiastically before her.

“Alright, what do I have to do?” Briar asked, reaching for her book to check her deck and where to place the card. “Is there a special place for the card?”

“Yes, but there’s something else,” Thorn said, sitting down next to her. He extended his palm, from which a delicate rose began to bloom. He plucked two petals and offered them to her. “If you consume a petal and I consume one, we’ll be bound to each other. This way, I’ll be able to assist you both in and out of battle without you needing to summon my card. I will protect you until the end, and in exchange, I’ll need your help to get home. Sound good?”

Briar hesitated. She didn’t entirely trust Thorn, but he had saved her life, and she was desperate to succeed. “Alright,” she said, “I’ll do it.”

Thorn chuckled softly and ate his petal, and Briar followed suit, swallowing it whole. As soon as she did, she felt a strange sensation. Her black hair began to turn a cloudy white. “What the…? What’s happening?” Briar exclaimed, tugging at her hair in confusion.

Thorn’s hair was changing in a similar fashion, matching hers. “Oh, it’s fine,” he said with a reassuring smile. “It’s just an indication of our bond now.”

Briar looked at him, still bewildered but trying to accept the new reality. “Alright, alright, that’s it, yeah?” she asked nervously. “It… it’ll take some getting used to, but it’s not too bad, I suppose…” She yawned, her exhaustion catching up with her.

Thorn, sensing his summoner’s fatigue, reached out and wrapped her in a blanket made of rose vines. To Briar’s surprise, the blanket was incredibly soft and free of any sharp thorns. “Here you go,” Thorn said gently. “You should get some rest. Don’t worry, I’ll watch over you while you sleep, Rose Princess.”

“H-Hey, don’t call me that,” Briar mumbled as she settled down, her voice barely audible. “It’s just Briar…”

Thorn’s smile widened as he sat nearby, keeping a watchful eye over her. “Goodnight, Briar,” he said softly. As she drifted off to sleep, the events of the day replayed in her mind, but for now, she felt a strange sense of security with Thorn by her side.

[redrawsfornellie]

Look at her face, cant fear shit. (joanne and lollipop)

[redrawsfornellie]

Chapter 1: Joanne's Sweet Endeavor / A Sweeter Encounter

Pages: 5 Words: 1978 Summary: Joanne, a determined twelve-year-old, runs the Sweet Tooth Candy Shop while her parents are away. She expertly assists customers, helping a grandmother pick out the perfect gift for her granddaughter, and manages a group of mischievous kids attempting to steal candy. Joanne sternly confronts them, offering a small treat and a lesson in honesty. As the day winds down, a suspicious group of men loiter outside the shop. Joanne senses danger and prepares to defend the store using the magical abilities of her candy bear, vowing to protect her parents' business no matter what.

The Sweet Tooth Candy Shop was a beacon of color and joy in the heart of town, its windows lined with every kind of candy imaginable. From sugary rock candy to chewy licorice, the shop was a paradise for anyone with a sweet tooth. Today, however, the shop had a special charm—it was run by Joanne, a twelve-year-old with a knack for business.

As the bell above the door jingled, Joanne looked up from behind the counter, her brown curls bouncing with her movement. She adjusted her apron and greeted the new customer with a bright smile. “Welcome to Sweet Tooth! How can I help you today?”

The customer, a middle-aged woman with a fondness for bright scarves, smiled back. “Hello, dear. I’m looking for something special. It’s my granddaughter’s birthday, and I want to get her something sweet.”

Joanne’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. “We’ve got just the thing! Follow me.” She led the woman to a display of colorful candy jars. “We’ve got some beautiful candy gift boxes that can be personalized. You can choose a selection of candies to fill them.”

The woman’s face lit up. “Oh, this looks perfect. I think she’ll love these gummy bears and the chocolate truffles. How much for a box like this?”

Joanne calculated the total quickly. “That’ll be twenty-five dollars for the box and the candies.”

The woman nodded and handed over the money. “Thank you, Joanne. You’re doing a great job here.”

“Thank you!” Joanne said, ringing up the sale and packing the box with care. “Have a sweet day!”

As the woman left, another customer entered—the local neighborhood kids. Joanne recognized them instantly; they were often found eyeing the candy jars with more interest than was strictly allowed.

“Hey, Joanne!” greeted Danny, a tall boy with an impish grin. “We’re just browsing.”

Joanne’s gaze was sharp, and she was ready. “Uh-huh. Browsing, right. Make sure you don’t touch anything without asking, okay?”

The kids exchanged glances, and Danny’s grin faltered a bit. “Sure, Joanne. We were just... um, looking for something.”

Joanne kept a close watch as the kids wandered the aisles. Her instinct proved correct when she saw them covertly trying to slip candy into their pockets. With a decisive motion, she grabbed the broom that was always at hand behind the counter and walked over to them.

“Alright, enough of that!” Joanne’s voice was commanding as she brandished the broom. The kids froze, wide-eyed. “You’ve been warned. Either pay for what you want or get out.”

One of the girls, a smaller kid with pigtails, looked particularly nervous. “We’re really sorry, Joanne. We didn’t mean to steal.”

Joanne’s expression softened slightly, though she kept her stance firm. “Well, if you’re sorry, I expect you to apologize properly. And if you’re still hungry for candy, here’s something on the house.” 

She reached into a jar of sour taffy and handed them each a piece. “Now, scram. And don��t come back without paying.”

The kids mumbled their thanks and hurried out, the sour taffy already making their faces pucker in surprise. Joanne shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. She could be tough when she needed to be, but she had a soft spot for kids who made honest mistakes.

Later that afternoon, the shop was buzzing with the usual assortment of customers. Joanne’s attention was split between ringing up purchases and keeping an eye on the stock. She had just finished wrapping a box of chocolate-covered almonds when a group of older customers entered.

“Good afternoon!” Joanne called out brightly. “Can I help you find anything special today?”

A tall man with graying hair and glasses smiled warmly. “Yes, actually. We’re looking for some old-fashioned sweets. My wife and I are celebrating our anniversary, and we thought some classic candies would be perfect.”

Joanne’s eyes lit up. “You’ve come to the right place! We’ve got a great selection of vintage candies. Follow me.”

She led them to a display of nostalgic treats—root beer barrels, jawbreakers, and nougat bars. As the customers browsed, one of them, a woman with a gentle demeanor, asked, “Joanne, your parents must be proud of how well you’re running the shop.”

Joanne’s heart skipped a beat. She offered her rehearsed response with a casual air. “Oh, they’re on vacation. I’m holding down the fort while they’re away.”

The man raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “Well, you’re doing a marvelous job. We’ll take some of these root beer barrels and a few of the nougat bars. How much do we owe you?”

Joanne quickly rang up their purchases and bagged the candies. “That’ll be thirty dollars.”

The man handed over the money, and Joanne gave him a receipt with a cheerful “Thank you for shopping at Sweet Tooth! Have a great day!”

As the last customer left and the shop quieted down, Joanne began her closing routine. She swept the floor, restocked the shelves, and prepared to lock up. The sky outside was turning dusky, the streetlights casting long shadows.

But as Joanne turned the “Closed” sign on the door, she noticed a group of men loitering nearby. Their presence was unsettling—there was something off about the way they hovered around the shop. Joanne’s instincts went on high alert.

She grabbed her trusty stuffed bear from her bookbag, her fingers brushing against its soft, comforting surface. With a quiet murmur, she activated its special magic, and the bear’s plush exterior shifted into a glossy candy material.

Joanne felt a surge of determination. She would protect the shop, no matter what. The men approached, their intentions clear. Joanne gripped her candy bear tightly, ready to defend her parents’ store with all the courage she could muster.

And so, as the evening shadows lengthened and the Sweet Tooth Candy Shop closed its doors for the night, Joanne prepared to face whatever challenge lay ahead with the same fearless resolve she brought to running her beloved shop.

_

The Sweet Tooth Candy Shop was buzzing with energy as Joanne prepared for a new day. She had been working tirelessly to set up a new display of lollipops, each one intricately shaped into stars, moons, hearts, and other delightful forms. These were not your average flat lollipops; they were grand creations, each one a piece of edible art propped up on sturdy sticks. Joanne meticulously arranged them on the counter, her excitement evident in the way she adjusted each display.

The morning sun was just beginning to shine through the shop's windows when the bell above the door chimed. Joanne turned to see a young boy about her age stepping in. He had tan skin, dark spiky hair, and was wearing goggles perched low on his forehead. His clothes were worn and somewhat shabby, giving him a rough-around-the-edges appearance.

Joanne offered her usual friendly greeting. “Good morning! Welcome to Sweet Tooth. Can I help you find something special today?”

The boy glanced around the shop with a dismissive air. “I don’t want to buy anything from you,” he said, his tone a mix of defiance and disdain. He looked Joanne up and down, his eyes lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Though he tried to hide it, a faint blush colored his cheeks as he found himself captivated by her determination and spunk.

“I came here to take some candy,” he continued, folding his arms defiantly. “Those kids who came in yesterday? They were working for me. I’m here to take what I want.”

Joanne’s smile faded, replaced by a look of stern resolve. “If you’re here to steal, I won’t go easy on you. I’ve got a job to do, and I won’t let anyone mess it up.”

The boy’s eyes narrowed, and he shrugged with a hardened expression. “I don’t care. I’m a thief, not a saint.”

Joanne’s frown deepened. She wasn’t about to let him walk away with her candy, not after everything she’d done to keep the shop running smoothly. “Fine, if that’s how you want to play it.”

Without warning, she grabbed a handful of the newly displayed lollipops and hurled them at him. The colorful confections flew through the air, but the boy was quick on his feet. With a flick of his wrist, he transformed his left hand into a large, bladed sword, blocking the incoming lollipops with ease.

“Is that the best you’ve got?” the boy taunted, his sword-hand slicing through the air as he deflected the candy missiles.

Joanne wasn’t deterred. She grabbed more lollipops and continued her barrage. “I’m not giving up so easily!”

The boy, who had been ready to steal the candy, now found himself engaged in a fierce battle of attrition. His ability to morph his body into mechanical constructs gave him a solid defense, while Joanne’s candy-throwing skills kept him on his toes. The shop was a flurry of colors and motion as the two clashed, the floor littered with shattered lollipop pieces.

Joanne’s eyes darted around the shop, searching for more lollipops to use as ammunition. Her focus was momentarily distracted when she noticed a giant candy sculpture on a precarious stand. It wobbled dangerously, tilting towards her.

Her heart skipped a beat. “Look out!” she shouted, but the boy’s attention was already drawn to the falling sculpture. Without hesitation, he dashed toward Joanne, tackling her out of harm’s way.

With a swift motion, he shifted his back into a deformed shield, his body morphing to absorb the impact of the falling sculpture. The candy crashed down onto the shield, and for a moment, everything went quiet. When the dust settled, the boy and Joanne were lying on the floor, safe and sound, though surrounded by candy debris.

Joanne looked up at him, astonished. “Why did you save me?”

The boy’s face was flushed, and he looked away, trying to hide his embarrassment. “I didn’t want to kill you. I’m a thief, not a murderer.”

Joanne’s expression softened, and she could see the sincerity in his eyes. “You really mean that?”

The boy nodded, avoiding her gaze. “Yeah. I’m sorry for everything. My name’s Luke. I didn’t want to cause any more trouble. I’d like to make it up to you. If you’ll let me, I could work here at the shop and pay off any damages.”

Joanne’s initial hesitation melted away as she considered his offer. She could see the potential for redemption in his eyes. With a bright smile, she extended her hand. “Alright, Luke. Let’s start fresh. We’ll clean up this mess together, and you can work here to make things right.”

Luke took her hand, his expression a mix of relief and gratitude. “Thanks, Joanne. I promise I’ll work hard.”

Together, they began to clean up the shop, sweeping up the candy shards and resetting the displays. As they worked, Joanne could sense that Luke was genuinely remorseful and willing to make amends. The two of them worked side by side, their earlier conflict forgotten as they bonded over the shared task.

By the time the shop was cleaned up and ready to reopen, Joanne and Luke had formed an unexpected alliance. The Sweet Tooth Candy Shop was back to its cheerful self, and Joanne felt a new sense of camaraderie with her unlikely helper.

As they prepared to open the shop again, Joanne looked at Luke with a hopeful smile. “Let’s make today a great day, shall we?”

Luke nodded, a smile of his own tugging at the corners of his lips. “Absolutely. And thanks for giving me a second chance.”

With a fresh start and a new friend by her side, Joanne was ready for whatever the day might bring. The Sweet Tooth Candy Shop was once again a place of joy and sweetness, and Joanne couldn’t have been happier.

[redrawsfornellie]

Just a reminder i got a bunch of adopts on my shop rn for anyone to get theyre hands on! Also i used a shit ton of tags