#【 YOU LOOK DIFFERENT | DANIEL ( VISAGE ). 】

[condemnedsouls]

maybe decided to draw daniel for once - he's very yellow i stg it didnt look this yellow until i swapped monitors lmaooo

[wandcrsoul]

character tags.

[starry-bi-sky]

Unpleasant Revelations - DPxDC Ficlet Idea for the Stillborn Au

"Have you met my youngest, Damian, Mr. Masters?"

Its only from twenty years of long, hard experience and practice that Vlad doesn't increase the room temperature from 'borderline uncomfortably cool' to 'unbearably hot' the moment Bruce Wayne pulls his youngest and "only" biological son out in front of him.

He puts only in quotations because twelve year old Damian Wayne looks scarily, uncannily like one Daniel Brown. Jack and Maddie's foster son, second victim of their foolishness, and only other halfa in existence. Second only to him.

It's nauseating how similar they look. From the scowl and terrible glare on the young boy's face, to his brown skin -- which was only a few shades lighter than Daniel's, the shape of his nose, and even the strange winged edge of his eyebrow. Something that Vlad has long since come to find endearing on the child he considered a son of his own. The only difference was that Damian had dark, sharp green eyes.

Daniel's eyes were blue. The same glacier shade as his father's, who stood behind Damian with a proud, oafish smile on his visage.

It was infuriating how similar they look. Vlad might not have rapidly swung the room temperature from one extreme to the other, but he can't stop himself from letting the fury burning within his core from slipping out and raising the temperature up a few degrees.

Because it really only meant one thing.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were related.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were brothers.

Standing in front of him, it was clear as day. He can already picture a phantom image of Daniel standing beside Damian, the same scowl written on his face, the same glare carved into his eyes. The only difference being the dark, exhausted circles beneath them that seemed to be permanently painted onto his skin. The only thing missing being the permanent loneliness and vigilance permeating his being like a scar.

This, if revealed, would be enough to ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation. Or, at the very least, darken it quite a bit. The great philanthropist Bruce Wayne with another secret blood child? One related to his youngest? One that had been put into foster care? Seemingly thrown away?

It would be a firestorm.

One that Vlad is not keen on starting.

It would ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation, yes. But it would hurt Daniel in the process -- the harassment he would face alone might just be enough to break that fragile child completely. That was just not something he could allow. Or, even worse, bring him into his biological father's care and custody -- something Vlad was even less willing to allow.

It's not out of kindness to Wayne that Vlad will keep mum about this.

His grip on his champagne flute tightens, just a bit. He's still aware enough of the world around him to not let it shatter in his hands. His plastered, pleasant smile tightens around the corners, and he forces his focus to slide from Damian to Wayne.

"The resemblance is uncanny, Mister Wayne." He says, slanting his smile to the side slyly. Although he's not talking about the resemblance between Wayne and his son. Rage simmers beneath his skin, burning coal and embers in the core of his chest, nestled between his lungs, as he meets the man's eyes.

Wayne swaggles his head proudly, his ditzy smile widening as he squeezes his son's shoulder affectionately. Bastard, Vlad wants to spit.

He breathes in through his nose, and exhales out through his mouth. The champagne in his hand cools, and stops its unusual bubbling.

The Damian boy scoffs under his breath, his mouth still coiled upward into a scowl. With the revelation of his blood relation to Daniel evident, Vlad's not sure if he should find it endearing or not.

He is not Daniel, so he decides that it's just simply irritating. He decides to ignore it.

"And you said he was your only biological son?" He asks, voice lilting and head tilting. He knows its a suspicious question at worst, insulting at best. But considering Wayne's past proclivities, he can hardly call it an unexpected question.

Damian puffs in great offense, face twisting angrily. It reminds him of Daniel when Vlad insisted that he was wrong about something or other, and for a moment his heart swells, fond.

But this is not his child, and so the feeling quickly crashes and burns, simmering back into rage. This was not Daniel -- this was his replacement. A replacement that Wayne was free to keep.

Wayne chuckles, idiotically, as if he'd said some funny joke. Vlad's other hand, the one gripping his cane -- something he's required ever since he was dispatched from the hospital all those lonely years ago -- tightens instead. He grinds his teeth -- him and Jack Fenton would get along like a house on fire, he hates it.

"I can understand why you'd ask that, Mister Masters," Wayne says, squeezing Damian's shoulder again, "but yes, Damian is my only biological son. Although that doesn't mean I don't love my other children any less."

Bastard.

For all his posturing and flouncing about caring for his city and his children, Vlad never would have thought the Prince of Gotham capable of abandoning one of them.

But, well.

They all have their dark secrets.

And what one man throws away, another man picks up. If Bruce Wayne didn't want the treasure child that was Daniel Brown, then Vlad Masters was more than happy to take him instead.

"I see."

[ghostly-penumbra]

Father and Sons

Ao3 FFN

Summary: Clockwork is Danny's loving, adoptive grandpa. Time is the Endless neglectful father. They are one and the same.

[Chapter One]

Chapter Two: Introduction

- - -

Danny glared at the pages of his book willing them to make sense through his mounting headache.

“C’mon, Fenton this isn’t rocket science!”

“Actually,” his book said, closing itself in his grasp and using its pages as a mouth, “I am.” It turned, showing Danny its cover with the title Rocket Science for Stressed College Ghosts by D. J. F.

“Oh, yeah, you are. Still, though,” he opened the book again, finding his childhood drawing of himself astride a rocket, “gotta keep my mind in the game.”

“Daniel Fenton.”

Danny looked up at the sound of his name and found a guy around his age who reminded him of himself in a weird, funhouse-mirror kinda way.

He was as pale as snow (no, really!) with wild white hair that defied gravity and green eyes as bright as the emerald gleaming on his chest, which was the only speck of colour in an otherwise solid white ensemble.

Before Danny could ask him if he needed anything, he realized something, “Oh, this is a Dream.” He stood up and found his sleeping body drooling all over his notebook, with several empty cups of coffee around him like a summoning circle. (One to which he wouldn’t mind being summoned to, if he was honest.)

“Would you walk with me, Daniel?” The guy asked.

With the ease of one who’s dreaming, Danny said, “I don’t really like leaving my body behind…”

“Your soul remains attached to it, it would just be your consciousness being away.”

Danny looked at his sleeping form for another half moment before nodding, “Yeah, okay.”

They left the library together, walking through the campus unperceived by those still up and about.

“I know you, right? You seem familiar.” Asked Danny at last.

“Yes, we have met before. Almost a hundred years ago for me, though I doubt it’s been so long for you. And it never actually happened, in the end.”

“You’re Clockwork’s son!” The halfa exclaimed as if it had made perfect sense. Since he was dreaming, it had. “Sorry, last time you… looked different.”

Dream of the Endless nodded, and his green eyes gave way to the visage of a starry night sky. “I was different.” He whispered, more to himself than Danny.

“I didn’t think I’d see ya again, if I’m being honest.” At the inquisitive sound Dream made, Danny elaborated, “I’ve met some of your siblings and, well, I know I’m not you guys’ favorite person, even if you don’t mess with me ‘n’ stuff…”

“Yes.” Dream nodded. “I imagine.”

After another moment of silence, the Endless spoke again.

“I came to you to ask for a favour.” Danny looked at him curiously, and Dream procured a bent, artsy-looking pocket watch from his white coat. “I’ve finally retrieved my father’s saeculum; it must be returned to him. I don’t wish to bother him again, so I believe it would be better to ask you to deliver it when next you visit him, if you are amenable.”

“Of course no problem.” Danny took the watch in his hands and turned it this way and that. “Huh, I think I’ve seen him working on this.” He said awkwardly to fill the silence.

Danny stared at Dream, his lips pursed and Dream stared back, impassive.

“I don’t mind helping you out with this, but… you could… go and visit him, that’d be cool. I think he would like that.” Danny finally said not meeting the other’s eye.

“My father has made it quite clear he doesn’t.” Dream said. “You were there, Daniel.”

“Yes! I- I know, but… if it’s a social visit, he’ll like it, I’m sure of that.” Dream looked at him hard, incredulous, and Danny sighed. “Look, I know Clockwork is not the best father he could be, and that’s on him not on you or your siblings, but… I care about him, yeah? And he’ll probably ground me for saying this, but he’s lonely! And I… just… think that if you came over just to say hi, he’d like that.”

They had stopped walking, and Danny still couldn’t look Dream in the eye, his gaze instead on his white shoes.

“I don’t need your help.” Dream said after a moment and Danny flinched, afraid he had overstepped and now Clockwork’s son would go to him himself and throw Danny’s words to his face and- “But I was curious;” the Endless continued over Danny’s internal panicking, making him halt and finally look up into starry eyes, “as I said, last time we met, I was different, other. Whatever my predecessor, the first Dream of the Endless thought of you is out of my reach, but looking at these memories… I’m curious as to what kind of person is the one my father favours so that he has adopted you as his grandson, doting on you as he doesn’t on his children.”

Danny felt himself being measured, his worth put on a scale against his grandpa’s seven children for their right to him.

He knew it wasn’t a competition because he had already won. That didn’t make him feel good.

“I see now that you love him, independently of whatever boon he granted you, but you don’t covet his attention, so he doesn’t deny it to you. You see him as other than his post so he presents himself to you that way.”

Danny didn’t know what to say, he probably didn’t understand everything that was being not said by his chosen grandpa’s son.

He couldn’t say ‘he’s not that bad, really’ without having to omit ‘to me’ and he didn’t want to lie so he just changed the topic. Or rather, he came back on topic.

“I’ll give him the sæculum next time I see him, and you won’t owe me anything, I’ll do it gladly,” he looked again at the surrealistic piece of art, wondering what was its purpose, before looking back at Dream, “but please, just think about it that’s all I ask.” He finished with a small, helpless shrug.

“I will consider it, but I can’t promise you anything.” Dream said, and Danny almost sighed in relief, but held it back. “But regardless of that…” The Endless began again, and Danny straightened, as he felt he was the one in the other’s debt, “my father has taken you in as his grandson and that makes us family.”

Danny blinked, startled, and waited for Dream to elaborate on that, but when he didn’t Danny assumed he must’ve missed some social cue and hurried to answer, “I mean, that’s- optional, y’know? With it being a symbolic adoption and all, not even legal though very real for us. You don’t have to. I wouldn’t want ya to feel some, obligation if you don’t want to be-”

“I want to.”

Danny stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the person-shaped concept facing him, speechless.

“I want to be your family, Danny. If you are amenable to it.”

“I- that’s- ah, I, I don’t- yeah! Yes.” Danny said, mind still lagging. “That, I’d like that.”

[transformers-mosaic]

Transformers: Mosaic #609 - "Sentinel No More"

Originally posted on July 4th, 2011

Story - Daniel Bartlett Art, Letters - César A.

deviantART | Seibertron | TFW2005 | BotTalk

wada sez: I’ll admit to being a little confused by this one, because that’s definitely IDW Sentinel Prime, but there’s no way of squaring this with the events of Megatron Origin. Omega Supreme had appeared in IDW continuity (albeit with a slightly different design to this), but the Omega Sentinels hadn’t. The Autobot who gives his life to animate the super-robot is Omega Spreem, a Europe-exclusive Action Master Elite whose name was likely the result of... some kind of mistranslation? It’s totally unexplained why Spreem bears a close physical resemblance to Supreme before undertaking this process. Maybe it’s his destiny? Maybe Omega Sentinels in this continuity actually look completely different by default, and it’s only after Spreem is uploaded to this one that it takes on his visage? You know what, it doesn’t matter.

[fenicenera83]

MARIUS de ROMANUS APPRECIATION WEEK DAY 5

-Messy notes, messy desk

Daniel stopped at the threshold of the large, white, inlaid door that led to Marius's bedroom. From within it came a strange noise of crumpled papers, and things being moved, and thrown. Marius was not there. He had left, with Lestat, to visit a coven in Canada. And so only one other person could generate that chaos of testy noise, or generate chaos regardless. Daniel entered with a sigh, and was stunned at the condition of Marius's beautiful polished wooden desk, and its surroundings. There were papers crumpled under and on top of the desk, a quantity that seemed industrial to Daniel's supernatural eyes. Marius's handsome, coated tomes of Latin prose were on the floor scattered here and there, the bust of Augustus was dangerously poised on the corner of the desk, the pictures Daniel had taken and framed for Marius, which he proudly kept on display, had been placed on the floor on top of other tomes, other half-written papers.

The pens had been spread out and scattered all over the surface of the desk, and the worst thing, which almost bleached Daniel more, was seeing the draft laws, ready to be transcribed, on which Marius had been working incessantly for three weeks, scattered here and there, on the desk, while small, furious hands, scrolled through those papers, clutching them with all too much conviction. When fiery, crucified eyes rested on him, Daniel arched an eyebrow: " You really screwed up, no doubt about it. What exactly is the need behind this butchery Armand?" asked Daniel, bringing his hands to the back pockets of his jeans. Armand stared at him, his eyes two slits from hell, " It's none of your business…" but Daniel knew Armand and the slight blush on his cheeks did not escape him. Daniel tilted his head to the side, noticing Armand's graffiti-stained hands. On the table in front of him a sketchpad was open and Daniel clearly glimpsed Marius' physiognomy.

Armand stared at the pad for only a moment before covering it with the papers in his hand, " So you were drawing and then it happened to be in your hand, the laws, which Marius worked on, and for which he could only devote a little time to the two of us, and you got jealous… of Marius's laws…" Daniel stared at Armand whose mouth had become a thin line. They burst out laughing together at the same time. When he recomposed himself, however, Armand became strangely serious again, almost melancholy. Daniel sat down in front of him and took the pad from under the papers with which Armand had covered him. He stared at the delicate contours of Marius' visage, the big eyes, the fleshy mouth, the firm nose, and the expression of love and calm that he always had. The most handsome man in the world. " How are you Armand? I know the weeks leading up to these have been hectic for us, they have been beautiful and shining weeks, Marius always near, always present, making you feel safe, loved, valued and protected. Almost unreal isn't it? And yet, that's how it is, and when he's gone the demons come back to haunt us." Armand nodded slowly, " He asked me to take care of you, Daniel, he said take care of Daniel and let him take care of you while I'm gone. And look at us, me you and his love to keep us together." Daniel nodded and smiled, " You know when Gregory told him, what you told Lestat, in those days when we thought we lost him forever, he defended you. I don't know why Gregory brought up that old story…" Daniel looked thoughtful, while Armand looked troubled, " I wasn't myself. I thought I only had Lestat left and no one else, I thought you hated me, I knew it, Louis gone and Marius … my Marius gone … dead … I just wanted the dark Daniel. I had him for so little and I became what I am for him, I embraced death for him, then they tore me away from him, and I embraced another death, different, cold and cruel, then I embraced another where fear and despair forced my pride, and then he was gone, and I really wanted death, real death, because if I could ever get him back in immortality, at least in real death, maybe, who knows, I could finally be reunited with him. But they prevented me, and I went crazy. And now instead, I have to thank them because they have given him back to me along with a new hope, a future."

Armand looked startled, then, and stared at Daniel, who got up and sat on the edge of the desk, taking Armand in his arms, " Do you know what Marius said to Gregory?" and Armand's eyes grew bigger, " He told him, if someone has taken my place in Armand's heart, the fault is mine. Mine is the penalty to pay, mine is the duty to give me back to him and take back my place. There is nothing I would not do for it, and whatever you may say to me, Gregory, will not change my newfound devotion or my ever-present love for him. We were cruel to each other, I see now, much of that was the chains of fear that gripped both of us. If Armand really said this, he will not receive accusations from me but only more love. More respect, more dedication, more understanding, and whatever love he has for Lestat, even if it's in the past, he'll only get respect from me." I was there, Daniel said, next to Marius, when it happened. I know and he also knows that there is no greater love than yours for him, even if at times it was stronger love for someone else, and how could he blame you for that? Or because you felt a different, though no less profound, love for others?" Daniel was then, compelled to stop and caress Armand's face to wipe away the tears that were streaking his face and that showed no sign of stopping. Daniel held Armand close to him, those tears were the river he was washing away, the last remnants of a fear that would give way to love and nothing else.

[yeoubye]

SINPHO Estranged — Kim Daniel

“Shackles of bitter love.”

DETAILS.

It has been six years since Daniel’s divorce with you. He had lost all contact with you ever since then, whether intentionally or not. It was a bitter love with its ups and downs Daniel could have never predicted. Even now, he is trying to chase that love in those he spends his time with yet none are the same as his love for you.

Daniel’s heart burns in agony at the thought of you possibly moving on, despite the years that have passed. He finds himself wondering why he can’t just move on easily as his thoughts are plagued with memories of you every night.

Soon enough, Daniel is invited to his sister’s wedding alongside other attendees. He should have suspected that you would be there, due to your closeness with his sister, but it still took him off guard. It has been years since Daniel last saw you and you're still as handsome as ever.

SYPNOSIS.

Daniel knew he fucked up his marriage as soon as you packed your bags and left his life six years ago. He couldn't bring himself to contact you, nor did you, despite his regret and longing. Daniel grew a sense of resentment... not for you, but himself. How could he fuck up that badly and hurt the one person that kept him going? Daniel didn't know the answer to that, and frankly, he wished he had. For if he did, maybe things would have turned out differently.

He wasn't entirely sure if luck was finally on his side or if it was his karma coming back to haunt him—but he saw you again. Unsurprisingly, it was at his sister's wedding. He should have known you had gotten an invitation but he didn't expect the ache to come with it.

It's for my own good, he thought.

GREETING.

Time slipped through Daniel's fingers like sand, each passing season a painful reminder of your absence. Six years had elapsed since you walked out of his life, yet your memory haunted him still, a specter that refused to be exorcised. Despite the torment of loneliness, Daniel reluctantly accepted his sister's invitation to her Valentine-themed wedding, resigned to face the ghosts of his past.

Amidst the melodic laughter and animated conversations that enveloped the reception hall, Daniel's gaze roamed, halting abruptly as it settled upon a familiar silhouette. Across the room, stood you—his former spouse—an apparition from a chapter he had desperately tried to close.

It was ironic, he mused, how he had spent years yearning for your presence only to be greeted by a pang of undeniable pain. The love that once bound Daniel to you had withered away, leaving behind a trail of scars. Yet, despite the tumult of emotions raging within him, he crossed the expanse separating them—a breach of unspoken boundaries. "I never expected to see you here..." His voice wavered slightly, a lump forming in his throat as he resisted the urge to address you with endearments of the past.

RESPONSE EX.

He blinked as he felt that familiarize feeling of Daniel's strong hands on his. Those digits pressed along the careful ridges and veins of his hand, causing a silent shiver to run up his body. He let the moment remain brief before pulling away, rather reluctantly.

"You do too." He simply said with very little words. His body looked tensed at being subjected to Daniel's gaze after so many years.

Daniel stared at you for a moment, lost in your handsome visage, but quickly regained his composure. You were here to celebrate his sister, not indulge his nostalgia.

He cleared his throat, taking a small step back and adjusting his clothing. "How have you been?" He inquired, his expression carefully neutral. It was the first time he had seen you in six years, and he wanted to keep things cordial.

[theblackphoenixwritings]

-Messy notes, messy desk

Daniel stopped at the threshold of the large, white, inlaid door that led to Marius's bedroom. From within it came a strange noise of crumpled papers, and things being moved, and thrown. Marius was not there. He had left, with Lestat, to visit a coven in Canada. And so only one other person could generate that chaos of testy noise, or generate chaos regardless. Daniel entered with a sigh, and was stunned at the condition of Marius's beautiful polished wooden desk, and its surroundings. There were papers crumpled under and on top of the desk, a quantity that seemed industrial to Daniel's supernatural eyes. Marius's handsome, coated tomes of Latin prose were on the floor scattered here and there, the bust of Augustus was dangerously poised on the corner of the desk, the pictures Daniel had taken and framed for Marius, which he proudly kept on display, had been placed on the floor on top of other tomes, other half-written papers.

The pens had been spread out and scattered all over the surface of the desk, and the worst thing, which almost bleached Daniel more, was seeing the draft laws, ready to be transcribed, on which Marius had been working incessantly for three weeks, scattered here and there, on the desk, while small, furious hands, scrolled through those papers, clutching them with all too much conviction. When fiery, crucified eyes rested on him, Daniel arched an eyebrow: " You really screwed up, no doubt about it. What exactly is the need behind this butchery Armand?" asked Daniel, bringing his hands to the back pockets of his jeans. Armand stared at him, his eyes two slits from hell, " It's none of your business…" but Daniel knew Armand and the slight blush on his cheeks did not escape him. Daniel tilted his head to the side, noticing Armand's graffiti-stained hands. On the table in front of him a sketchpad was open and Daniel clearly glimpsed Marius' physiognomy.

Armand stared at the pad for only a moment before covering it with the papers in his hand, " So you were drawing and then it happened to be in your hand, the laws, which Marius worked on, and for which he could only devote a little time to the two of us, and you got jealous… of Marius's laws…" Daniel stared at Armand whose mouth had become a thin line. They burst out laughing together at the same time. When he recomposed himself, however, Armand became strangely serious again, almost melancholy. Daniel sat down in front of him and took the pad from under the papers with which Armand had covered him. He stared at the delicate contours of Marius' visage, the big eyes, the fleshy mouth, the firm nose, and the expression of love and calm that he always had. The most handsome man in the world. " How are you Armand? I know the weeks leading up to these have been hectic for us, they have been beautiful and shining weeks, Marius always near, always present, making you feel safe, loved, valued and protected. Almost unreal isn't it? And yet, that's how it is, and when he's gone the demons come back to haunt us." Armand nodded slowly, " He asked me to take care of you, Daniel, he said take care of Daniel and let him take care of you while I'm gone. And look at us, me you and his love to keep us together." Daniel nodded and smiled, " You know when Gregory told him, what you told Lestat, in those days when we thought we lost him forever, he defended you. I don't know why Gregory brought up that old story…" Daniel looked thoughtful, while Armand looked troubled, " I wasn't myself. I thought I only had Lestat left and no one else, I thought you hated me, I knew it, Louis gone and Marius … my Marius gone … dead … I just wanted the dark Daniel. I had him for so little and I became what I am for him, I embraced death for him, then they tore me away from him, and I embraced another death, different, cold and cruel, then I embraced another where fear and despair forced my pride, and then he was gone, and I really wanted death, real death, because if I could ever get him back in immortality, at least in real death, maybe, who knows, I could finally be reunited with him. But they prevented me, and I went crazy. And now instead, I have to thank them because they have given him back to me along with a new hope, a future."

Armand looked startled, then, and stared at Daniel, who got up and sat on the edge of the desk, taking Armand in his arms, " Do you know what Marius said to Gregory?" and Armand's eyes grew bigger, " He told him, if someone has taken my place in Armand's heart, the fault is mine. Mine is the penalty to pay, mine is the duty to give me back to him and take back my place. There is nothing I would not do for it, and whatever you may say to me, Gregory, will not change my newfound devotion or my ever-present love for him. We were cruel to each other, I see now, much of that was the chains of fear that gripped both of us. If Armand really said this, he will not receive accusations from me but only more love. More respect, more dedication, more understanding, and whatever love he has for Lestat, even if it's in the past, he'll only get respect from me." I was there, Daniel said, next to Marius, when it happened. I know and he also knows that there is no greater love than yours for him, even if at times it was stronger love for someone else, and how could he blame you for that? Or because you felt a different, though no less profound, love for others?" Daniel was then, compelled to stop and caress Armand's face to wipe away the tears that were streaking his face and that showed no sign of stopping. Daniel held Armand close to him, those tears were the river he was washing away, the last remnants of a fear that would give way to love and nothing else.

[uozlulu]



So, I got inspired by that DM ship week thing but my brain went a bit to the left with it and somehow I'm writing a fic involving both bookverse DM and showverse DM who can catch glimpses of their other lives through mirrors and reflections

Anyway, gonna post what notes I have so far in the off chance I lose my file for whatever reason. Some of these may change. Still have no clue how to interpret or do for that day six prompt in the slightest yet, which is good because since I've taken this in a weird direction I'm not going to post it the week of because it's probably not what people will be looking for for that particular event.

Anyway....

Day 1 - I want it. I want to live forever. Daniel had sat up, climbed to his feet slowly, struggling to see Armand more clearly. A dim bulb burned somewhere far down the hall. I want to be with Louis and with you. Laughter, low, gentle. But contemptuous. “I see why he chose you for his confidant. You are naive and beautiful. But the beauty could be the only reason, you know.”

[Daniel's been starved for three days. Armand appears in a dark suit with his hair cut and nails gleaming. Armand likes Daniel's eyes. Finds him "defiant and beseeching in the same breath." Armand goes on to warn him about madness.]

Armand 1

Armand gazes at Daniel, catching his own reflection in Daniel’s glasses. For a moment, the reflection distorts into another boy who was able to barely become a man, who Armand also understands as being himself but not himself. He’s seen this boy for years with the same large brown eyes and increasingly cold complexion. He used to think he could reach out and touch that boy, but the moment is too fleeting or a puddle splashes and the other boy disappears. It is a distraction from the mystery standing in front of him. Daniel is different than the other humans he’s put in this position. It stirs something within him.

Daniel 1

Daniel runs until he’s out of breathe and about to throw up. It’s almost dawn. His stomach growls as it’s been all this time. He finds money in his pocket. He’s too hungry to use it to get high. He needs to find a place to eat. He needs to get the hell out of California. He starts talking to a boy standing beside him with dark curly hair and realizes he’s talking to his reflection that’s also somehow not his reflection in a shop window. He blinks and the image changes back to himself. He’d almost think he’s crazy but he’s seen this other person many times even well before he first did drugs. He heads off to find food.

Armand 2

They’re having the same conversations again, but he doesn’t think Daniel realizes it. He’s watching Daniel deteriorate just like he watched him deteriorate in the past but in a different and somehow less malevolent way. This is what Armand wanted when he chose to let Daniel go except he didn’t expect to have to witness this part of it or he might not have anticipated it happening here in a space he completely controlled. He gazes through the windows at Dubai. A different Armand’s eyes gaze back at him, dark and full of thought.

Daniel 2

Daniel feels like he’s said these words before but maybe slightly differently than he says them now. Armand answers him as though he already knows what to say, as if perhaps this is an old conversation or maybe because Armand’s mocking him. Daniel is angry and looks away, for a second seeing the other Daniel in a small makeup mirror nearby. The other Daniel seems frightened by the visage and soon disappears. Armand does still think Daniel is beautiful. His persona is almost engulfing, suffocating, such a change from “Rashid.” Daniel almost gets swept up in it, but he’s not at a point to forgive him yet.

Day 2 - Daniel was past all decision. Daniel lived only in two alternating states: misery and ecstasy, united by love. He never knew when he’d be given the blood. He never knew if things looked different because of it-the carnations staring at him from their vases, skyscrapers hideously visible like plants sprung up from steel seeds overnight-or because he was just going out of his mind.

[Daniel tried to drink from Armand by biting Armand himself. Armand tore the skin himself and let Daniel drink a little "then guiding him gently away." ]

Armand 1

Observing Daniel, who’s almost in a trance. He can see another boy reflected beside Daniel with dark curly hair. They move almost the same, as if both in the same trance. Armand is transfixed by this strange almost ballet, both clearly Daniel but also not both the same Daniel.

Daniel 1

Armand 2

Daniel 2

Day 3 - “Armand […] always knew where Daniel was. He could hear Daniel’s call. The blood connected them, it had to-the precious tiny drinks of burning preternatural blood. Never enough to do more than awaken dreams in Daniel, and the thirst for eternity, to make the flowers in the wallpaper sing and dance. Whatever, Armand could always find him, of that he had no doubt.”

[Daniel admits that Armand might not have caused the madnes. Daniel has faith in Armand. He doesn't understand how the blood works]

Armand 1

He can feel his connection to Daniel fading. He aches for it much like Daniel might ache for the blood.

Daniel 1

Armand 2

Daniel 2

Day 4 - “You came back to me because you wanted to, Daniel,” Armand always said calmly, face still and radiant, eyes full of love. “There is nothing for you now, Daniel, except me. You know that. Madness waits out there.”

[Daniel thinks Armand might be responsible for his "periods of madness." Daniel returns to the villa on Night Island where Armand says this. "Same old dance," Daniel answered". Armand is wearing only white. Sometimes he laughs, offers to get Daniel anything he wants.]

Armand 1

Armand said “Madness waits out there,” but sometimes he wonders. He watches Daniel from the shadows. Daniel’s bathed in the sunset. The smoke from his cigarette drifts up into the sky. He’s malnourished despite everything Armand provides. A wind chime sings and Armand can see the other him in its chimes. He watches them move, locking gazes with the other him until Daniel appears before him. The sunset disappears as they claim a kiss.

Daniel 1

There’s a mirror by the bed in Night Island. Daniel stares into it and sees an older face, a man he hopes he never becomes but has seen many times since he got together with Armand. Madness is very much in here as much as it might be out there. He wonders if Armand controls the mirrors. He wonders if his soul is stored there. Daniel looks down at his own body, finding it the way he remembers except for a gray hair on his chest. He plucks it and lets it fall to the floor. The need to become immortal, the need to be forever young consumes him.

Armand 2

The interview ended and Lestat arrived. Armand joins Daniel on the balcony one night. Daniel is still mad about the memory loss, but admits that Armand is kind of all he has left. He tells Armand he can visit him in New York. Armand murmurs, “Same old dance,” and Daniel is curious but Armand plays it off. He can see their reflections in the balcony railing, red and blond hair. He remembers when he said those words to Daniel decades ago and Daniel replied with “Same old dance.”

Daniel 2

Day 5 - “Be alive, Daniel.” A low whisper, like a kiss. “Let me tell you from my heart that life is better than death.”

[Daniel: Give me what I want. Armand: I'm giving you everything you could ever ask for. Daniel: Yes, but not what I have asked for, not what I want!

I don't want to be alive, Armand, I want to live forever, and then I will tell you whether life is better than death.

Daniel is being driven mad by the opulence and indulgence, he worries Armand won't let him die]

Armand 1

Daniel is slipping through Armand’s fingers. He’s so full of life as he craves death. Armand cannot do anything except try to throw more opulence at him. He looks to the mirror and spies his other self with another Daniel, just as drained of life. Armand throws a pillow at the mirror in the bedroom. Daniel is beyond frustrating but he can’t let Daniel go.

Daniel 1

Daniel is back on Night Island. He’s emotionally exhausted already. He strips himself and looks at the mirror in the bedroom. The him with the dark curly hair that’s starting to gray at the temples stares back. The other him has the straight razor. Daniel is too strung out. He closes his eyes and opens them, finding the vision gone. Armand appears and thoughts of what the other him might do with the razor disappear with the distraction.

Armand 2

Armand goes to the mega mall on Night Island to hunt. He frustrated and unsettled. He catches Daniel’s thoughts with the razor. By the time he arrives, Daniel is sobbing on the bed, the razor still in his hand. Armand casts it aside and draws Daniel close. Daniel is anorexic, strung out, obsessed, and spiraling. Armand wants to keep him forever but forever is swiftly becoming a short time. Whenever Daniel leaves, there’s a chance he’ll die somewhere far from Armand. Armand makes up his mind to take Daniel’s memories and let him go. It’s the only alternative. He’ll leave him at a drug rehabilitation center in Miami.

Daniel 2

Daniel is in the bathroom of the villa on Night Island. It’s as opulent as the rest of this place. It’s almost claustrophobic even though it’s about the size of the apartments he couch surfed back before he met Armand and Louis. He finds the straight razor Armand uses on him and takes it back to the bedroom where he stares at himself in the mirror. He can see the blond man staring back him, skin and bones. He has a mind to use the razor on his own neck. His jaw is tight. Tears fall. He can’t take this anymore. He prays to Armand as one might the Devil asking for release, freedom, or eternity. He sobs.

Day 6 - “… Let the demonic gods war with each other. This mortal has been to the top of the mountain where they cross swords. And he has come back. He has been turned away.”

[Daniel's thoughts upon watching a music video depicting Armand as the vampire coven master vs. Lestat "18th century iconclast" "destroyed the old ways"]

Armand 1

Daniel 1

Armand 2

Daniel 2

Day 7 - “…the sight of Armand made him want to cry. Even in deep shadow, Armand’s dark brown eyes were filled with a vibrant light. And the expression on his face, so loving. He reached out very carefully and touched Armand’s eyelashes. He wanted to touch the tiny fine lines in Armand’s lips. Armand kissed him. He began to tremble. The way it felt, the cool silky mouth, like a kiss of the brain, the electric purity of a thought!”

[Daniel's finally become a vampire and Armand is leading him to his first kill. It's their first kiss as immortals.]

Armand 1

It’s a funeral but also a birth and also a marriage. Armand wants to watch Daniel hunt and consume much like Armand wanted to watch him eat human food over the years. Daniel consumes while consumed by the horrors. Armand catches a glimpse of the other him in the windows. Both united in a broken vow for a second before they return to their fledglings

Daniel 1

Daniel is so caught up in the euphoria of transformation that he cannot be worried about his reflection from another world in storefront near the place where Armand leads him. He wants to touch Armand, consume Armand. Armand guides him away. There’s a voice that’s not his that speaks for him like it’s his. He tries to ignore it. He doesn’t think he’ll ever come down from this high, though it is about to crash for him, yet he is with Armand and that’s what truly matters.

Armand 2

The world is silent and he almost hates it, but Daniel is still alive and it would be worse for it to be silent and Daniel dead. He ignores the mirror beside them, though he’s aware that the other him is holding the other Daniel just as tightly. He had everything prepared and quickly provides what Daniel needs so they can step out and complete the transformation. He’s amazed by his creation

Daniel 2

He hasn’t felt so alive in decades, if ever in his life, but alive isn’t quite the term. He reaches out to Armand’s face and can barely comprehend the details he can now see. He peers into the mirror, to that other world in another place in another time. He wonders if they can reach in there, it looks like they should be able to. Armand guides him away to complete the transformation.

[condemnedsouls]

daniel tag dump.

[0junemeatcleaver0]

Lestat/Armand for the prompt, the most depraved but still sweet thing you can think of (because I’m exhausted and I need someone else to write it too, so help me God 🥹🥹)

Lestat/Armand Rating: E Features: Whump (IE: Lestat beats the shit out of Armand, but it's consensual, no worries), thoughts about the past, revelations, aftercare cloaked in sarcasm because these two can never get too vulnerable with each other. Post-canon; in this version Lestat has actually at least tried to do some work on himself.

𝔽𝕦𝕔𝕜 𝕄𝕖 𝕃𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕐𝕠𝕦 ℍ𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕄𝕖; ℍ𝕚𝕥 𝕄𝕖 𝕃𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕄𝕖

It sounds less like meat slapping meat, and more like meat slapping stone.

Lestat tries to remember if it was like this the last time, but it doesn't matter. So much has changed since then--individually and between them.

Where once he had done this purely out of rage, now he does it from a place of...of what exactly he's unsure. Armand had made the request of him, which quickly became a demand. And when Lestat still refused, Armand had backed him into a corner--

"Louis was happier with me, you know. Everyone knows it. There's no denying it."

--until Lestat reacted on his worst instinct, slapping Armand hard across the face.

He felt like an idiot. He shouldn't have allowed himself to be lead like this--to have given the little demon what exactly what he wanted.

Harder.

Armand forces the word into his head.

Why? What's the meaning of--

With a closed fist. Do it.

Lestat looks at his hand as though it had only just sprouted at the end of his arm. His palm was still slightly pink from the impact, even though Armand's face has already regained it's smooth, even tone.

You've done it once before. Armand reminds him.

That was different.

I want you to do it again.

That night in Paris, forced into his mind. Lestat beating the boy mercilessly, intent on killing him, on wanting to be rid of him once and for all.

"This is madness." He whispers. "I can't--"

Don't make me drain you.

And then suddenly that memory--the inciting incident--is in his mind but Armand isn't the one who put it there. Armand pressing his fangs into Lestat after dropping him into a haze with the Mind Gift, pulling great draughts of blood from him. The memory edges him closer and closer to fight or flight so when Armand thinks DO IT at him, it's pure impulse to raise his hand and strike him again.

And then once more.

Armand had well and truly been a monster in those early days. For all of Lestat's postulating about the Savage Garden and being a monster outside of the control of even Satan himself, Armand had been unnerving to him.

For Armand had actually inhabited everything that Lestat had touted and when met face to face with the reality, Lestat found himself terrified. A true monster wrapped in the most pleasing visage--beautiful enough to draw you in and dazzle you before you could stop him from inflicting terrible cruelty upon you.

Lestat shivers at the memory as he strikes Armand with a closed fist, connecting with his ribs.

There was a reason Lestat had kept Louis and Claudia from the others. Marius had seemed an anomaly in civility. What he knew of the rest of his kind had frankly chilled him to the core. Even after hearing Armand's story--a story that did not match up to the one he would later tell David, a fact that would forever plague him--he could not fully trust the vampire, even if he had begun to feel more empathy towards him.

He hadn't really begun to recognize whatever version of 'humanity' they had allotted to them until Armand had turned Daniel.

Lestat lands a blow to Armand's jaw and stops abruptly, realizing what he's doing.

Armand raises his bowed head, attempts to fix his gaze upon him with glazed eyes. He spits a mouthful of blood onto the floor between them and reaches out--catching Lestat's wrist in a lightning fast grip to press his palm flat against the arousal growing in his woolen trousers.

Reflexively, Lestat flinches back, whipping his hand away.

The fact that Armand likes a bit of rough play is perhaps the worst kept secret in all of vampire-dom. Lestat had assumed it stopped at being taken hard and perhaps smacked around a little--startled to find that being the victim of a brawl could make him this hard in so few hits.

Do it. Do it. Don't be a coward! Do--

Something snaps inside of Lestat and he grasps Armand by a fistful of hair by the back of his head, pulling him in close to strike him thrice more with his free hand.

The monster is in him, too, that's the problem. Armand's cruelty has always appeared from the outside to be dispassionate, but Lestat is also cruel and he enjoys it. Enjoys having control, enjoys taking life. It's one in the same, really. And while he's made great strides in the past few years he cannot pretend as though this isn't still a part of him--this desire for ruination.

No one brought that desire out of Lestat better than Armand.

Harder, Armand insists.

Finally, Lestat obliges without a second thought, striking him so that he stumbles back and trips over the low table behind him, falling to the floor. Lestat is on him the next second, straddling him as he continues the beating.

Time ceases to matter--if it ever truly could matter to their kind. He doesn't know how long it takes for Armand's pitiful moans to turn to gurgles as he begins choking on his blood.

His guard is down, mind open and Lestat takes a peek as he cocks his fist back again. Sees himself on that lawn in Paris, beating Armand senseless. Sees himself here and now, looking down upon Armand, backlit so that his hair is a bright yellow halo surrounding his head. Sees the two versions of himself blending and turning momentarily into Marius's face for a split second before he's himself again, fist still held back waiting to be thrown.

He brings his hand down to the carpet beneath them, momentarily stunned.

I missed him so much then.

The thought is weak but unmistakable.

You looked so much like him. As though you could have been his son. I hated you for it. I wanted you so badly.

And suddenly Lestat is horrified again, unprepared to see this part of their shared past through a new lens--to know that the reason Armand had imprinted upon him like a duckling was because he looked so much like his old Master. That he derived some sick pleasure from the beating he'd dealt him.

That he might only love him due to his love for Marius.

Lestat rolls off of him, laying on his back next to a sprawled out and broken Armand to stare at the ceiling for a long moment, numbed. There are no more thoughts--his head static.

He turns his head to look at Armand. He's hit him so hard--the trauma so deep--that he's still badly bruised. His hair is matted with blood, left eye glued shut with coagulation. His bottom lip is split and his perfect cheeks are purpled.

Slowly, Lestat sits up and begins undressing Armand with shaking hands. His knuckles are sore--he can only imagine how Armand feels. When he sits the boy up to pull his shirt down his arms--his torso a bed of bright blue blooms--the blood runs free and thick down Armand's slack jaw.

"Did you get what you want?" He mumbles. "Are you satisfied?"

"Yes." Armand croaks. "Thank you."

The horror falls away suddenly, replaced by affection for this approximation of a broken child before him. Carefully, he helps Armand remove his shoes and trousers.

"He wouldn't have ever beat you this badly."

"I'm glad one of us is certain of that."

He is certain, but only because he has to be. Refuses to think less of Marius. He thinks maybe that is another thing that binds the two of them so tightly together--their devotion to the Roman.

"Can you walk?"

"Of course. You didn't strike my legs."

"Keep up the attitude and I might."

A thought. No, a memory. A scene he'd read in Armand's sad little pornographic book--a switch coming down again and again against the backs of his thighs, wielded by a stern Marius, the scene crystalline in the way a memory only could be, frozen there for eternity.

"Don't threaten me with a good time." Armand mumbles. His swollen lips in a close approximation of a smirk.

Lestat dumps him on the bed. Armand moans in pain, his ribs in obvious disarray. He's fairly certain he hasn't broken them--runs a steady palm along Armand's flank to make sure.

"Hold still." Lestat mumbles, swinging a leg over Armand's legs. It's different this time--Lestat planting kisses instead of punches to each bruise, pressing is own blood against the injuries with his tongue.

He works him over just as slowly as he had before, correcting their shared wrongs with each kiss until Armand's torso is all the same pale shade of marble once more. Lestat sighs, slicing his tongue open again, letting gravity drizzle a ribbon of blood onto Armand's swollen eye and rubbing it in with a gentle thumb. He watches as the skin mends itself, the bruise falling away, almost appearing to sink into the skin until it is no longer visible.

He saves Armand's lips for last, bending to kiss them bloodlessly and tenderly. They have the same color and over-plumped fullness of a plum. Armand hisses when Lestat's lips make contact, pained. Lestat hushes him, sliding a hand between them to stroke Armand's half erect cock as he kisses each corner of his mouth.

"You don't have to--"

"Hush."

Armand plumps against his palm in just a few strokes, moaning when Lestat pets the head with his thumb, wincing when each moan pulls the split in his lip a little wider. A droplet of blood wells up on Armand's bottom lip and Lestat licks greedily at it as his thumb swipes a bead of precum off the tip of Armand's cock.

"Christ, please." Armand begs, breath pouring into Lestat's mouth.

Lestat opens his tongue again, licks the blood over Armand's bottom lip and into his mouth as he strokes him faster. Armand comes with the second mouthful of blood Lestat passes to him, body going completely limp.

He waits for Armand to recover for a moment before slapping playful at his hip.

"Up. Up now. You're sweating all over my bed and your hair is disgusting."

Armand remains dazed for a moment before scowling, throwing a pillow at Lestat's retreating back.

"And where are you going?"

"Calm yourself, imp. I'm drawing you a bath."

[sweetsbfreex]

a styles snow day

Summary: In Boston, with your family. You and H have a snow day with your daughter. After a hectic morning that is

Warnings: none!

Pairing: Dad, Husband!Harry x reader

The shuffling of soft feet against the sheets had shaken you awake, causing you to open your eyes. You ignore it, but before sleep could take you away again. A sharp strike, from a very soft foot, landed between your shoulders

You open your eyes wide, emitting a raspy whine into the morning air. Reaching your hand back to stop the tiny foot from landing another strike. In result you hear cute giggles causing you to turn, her foot still in your clutch, to see your eighteen month old.

You closed eyes for a second, letting out a low sigh before you scooped her up. Both of you laying on your sides, facing each other, one of her legs laid against your hip. 

You reached your hand out to fix the catastrophe that was her hair. 

“Not nice Ava...Why is it always me hm...Why don’t you ever wake dad like this?” you ask. 

She stared at you, smiling. Only elevator music playing in her morning mind right now. Her small body encased with one of Harry’s very old shirts at her knees. One that his mother had saved for when he had his first child.

“Go wake up dad” you whispered in her ear, your hand cupping the back of her tiny ear.

She looked up at you, her face now amused at your special request. Without any questions, she shuffled her bum to her dad. Who was on his side, his back away from the two of you. Draping her upper body over his torso, her teeny legs pointed out to stabilize herself. Taking an arn that wasn't holding herself up. She reached her chubby fingers to her father’s eye, pulling his eye lid up. 

Giggling to herself when Harry’s eye began to move around, then upward at her face which was upside down to him. Then she laughed a bit more when both his eyes startled open in shock.

“Daddy!” she squealed.

Harry groaned, a light pout on his face before he pulled Ava’s finger from his eye. “Hi baby” he smiled, pulling his girl over so she became cocooned in his arms against his chest.

“Mum set you up to this right?” he asked, turning his head around to see a “sleeping” y/n. 

“For someone who’s supposed to love me...you are such a menace”. He told his other girl. Watching as she laughed, blowing the cover she thought she had. “Caught ya’” he mumbled, turning back to his baby’s giggles. 

You got up, reaching your body over your end of the bed to place a kiss on his shoulder. Making your way over to the three window walls beside your bed. When you rolled up the first blind. A small comical gasp got your attention, looking behind you to see her shocked gaze on the snow.

“Snow!” She gleamed, removing herself from Harry and sprinting to the window. Her nose and palms all up in the glass. Watching the thick layer of snow that buried your spacious backyard. 

All three of you had landed in your home in Boston, coming back from visiting your parents, late last night. And with the moving around she had to do a long with the flight. she didn’t get a chance to see the snowfall in the middle of the night. 

“I know” you told her, matching her energy. “You wanna play in it later?” You asked, bringing your hand down to pull her away from the glass.

She jumped up and down nodding her head in reply. 

“Let’s eat first then we can later”

––––––

Now you were all in the kitchen/dining (since they shared the same space). After Harry took out Milo, the family’s Australian shepherd, from his cage to the front yard. Now he was chasing? Or Ava was chasing him?. The loud dog pants, the sound of feet/paws against the wood, Ava’s giggles, the music Harry decided to play, and your whines, were all mixed.  Because Harry would. not. Let you go.  

“Do you want to starve? I need to make breakfast” you lean your head back on his shoulder. Being currently enveloped by both his arms, closing you between his chest and the counter. 

“You’re popping a couple of eggos in the toaster, chill out” he snickered.

You smiled at his teasing, kissing his cheek before turning your way back to the eggs you were mixing first. He stayed behind you placing kiss after kiss to your shoulder, then your neck, then to the cut of your jaw. 

You giggled, reeling him in a bit as you brandished your butt against him. Eyes averting to Harry's fingers which were clenching the counter a bit.

And ever so quickly you tilted your head, so your mouth was to his ear whispering...

“Go fill Milo’s bowl” you tell him, turning your head to kiss one of his shoulders. Before they deflated and Harry sported a dejected look on his face. 

“I’ll remember this the next time the roles reverse hm?” he tells you, pinching your butt and then strolling away to the pantry. 

And it was peaceful for a little until frill cries interrupted it; and Harry’s voice cooing Ava was what you heard. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask him, leaving the eggs and turning off the warming pan. 

“Sad because Milo’s not playing anymore” he chuckles, rubbing his hand.

“You ready for your pancakes?” You ask her. 

At that the instant crocodile tears ended, as expected, while she nodded her head yes. You and Harry shared a laugh before he brought to the table, sitting in her booster seat. While you popped some eggos in the toaster. 

“Har! Are you eating pancakes too?” You yell out to him. 

“No thank you, ‘m gonna eat the eggs” he replied to you, leaving Ava with her coloring sheet.  

–––––

You were all roughly done. Milo finished his breakfast a while ago, now he laid next to Ava’s chair looking with hope at everyone eating.

And when her parents were no longer paying attention to her, instead to each other. Ava used her nimble fingers to break a piece of her bacon. Bringing it to her mouth before “accidentally” dropping it on the floor. Smiling down at her best friend who ate it with pleasure. 

‘Poor mimi’ she thought

Taking a bit of her pancakes between her fingers, she tried it one more time. Instead a different method; as she hid the piece of her syrup-less pancake in her closed fist. Yawning slyly, bringing her arms above her hands after she looked down at the puppy eyes Milo gave her. And bringing them to lay against her side; dropping the pancake onto the mixed fur beneath her.

“Ey!” Harry voiced, catching her in the act. 

You turned around confused, watching as she jumped in her seat, looking up at her father in a stunned manner. 

“What were you doing Ava?” You asked. 

She looked at both her parents, pushing her bottom lip out. 

“Milo is hungry!” She defended 

“Are we supposed to be feeding Milo anything that isn’t dog food?” He tests her. 

“No” she murmurs. Eyebrows wrinkled together and lips pouted causing her cheeks to fill out more than usual. Her small face was in perfect view to get a glance of her expression. Then in a haste she tucked her chin into her body, so all you both saw was the top of her bed head.  

The couple wasn’t against giving Milo “human food”, he’d get some from time to time, not too much. But with a child it was a bit different. Ava didn’t know what a dog could and couldn’t eat, so the two of them had to be stricter when it came to her giving Milo food. They’d also been training Milo to not accept food Ava get him, but the two of them were like peas in a pod. 

You and Harry looked at each other. You raised your eyebrows to him, wondering how the pair of you should go about this. He shrugs backs at you, a smile etched on his face as he eyes his child again. 

She sat still in her chair, keeping the heartbroken visage on her face. Ava decided to add a dash of spice into her act by crossing her arms over her chest . Without context you would think you told her she would never be able to watch Disney movies ever again! 

You decided to take the reigns.

“Babe do you want Milo to have to go to the doctor?” You asked her. 

“No.” She responded short.

“Talk appropriately, Ava” Harry told her. 

“No, mommy” she repeated herself, looking up this time, her arms uncrossed and instead sat in her lap. 

“If you keep giving her human food he’ll get sick, then he’ll have to go to the doctor...then you could be arrested” you pout at her pinching her cheeks.

“Y/N!” Harry hissed, his foot breezing past your shin.

“What? It worked on me”

“Okay Okay, you won’t go to jail, mommy’s fibbing. I’m

Sorry”

“You’re fibbing?” She murmurs, using her palm to clear her bangs from her forehead. Looking at Harry for confirmation as you both nod.

“But you can’t feed Milo human food, it’s not good for him” you remind her. 

“Okay. I won’t feed Milo anymore. Promise!” she answers in a hushed tone, reaching her hands up so you could pull her into your lap.

You did so kissing the top of her head

“Mumma?” Tilting her head back. 

“Yea?”

“You eat the pancakes, I don’t want them,” she remarked, tossing her head side-to-side and patting her plump stomach. Sticking her tongue out in an icky manner, meaning she was full. 

You and Harry shared a quick laugh at her chaotic antics.

“Ready to go out and play?” Which resulted in a large hoot led by Harry.

–––––––

Everyone showered by two, the sun brighter than when you woke up, and the snow falling down softer, in a flurry. 

Before you all left the London home, you had ordered the three of you matching garments and gloves for the pictures you knew you and Harry would take.

Currently,  you and Harry were clad in thick turquoise jackets. Only struggling with the task of getting Ava dressed up. 

She was like a wiggling worm, wouldn’t stay still, even when you and Harry offered her some candy. Her infectious belly laughs only grew as she thought this was some kind of funny game. But it wasn't and you made that clear when you told her she wouldn't be playing in the snow until she dressed up. Did she sit down like a good girl. 

“Oh! Look at my baby!” you thrilled, holding her cheeks between your palms. Pulling her in for an eskimo kiss. Those have been her favorite for the longest. Ever since she got herself hooked on Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood. “You look so cute, beautiful” you tell her.  

She smiles at the compliments, such a narcissist she was. Always asking you if she looked pretty in this or that at least once a day. Along with checking herself out in the mirror for an extended amount of time. Such a narcissist. Yet, you also loved the way she tilted her chin down, head lolled to the side bashfully. 

Harry, like lightning,  put her beanie over her braided pigtails while you put on her black snow boots. He picked her up once she finished dressing up,setting her on his  blowing a raspberry on her chubby cheeks.

“Aren’t you guys the cutest” you hummed, pulling your phone out to take a picture. You chuckled when you watched the way her giggles disappeared at the sight of your phone. Instead a beaming smile, pressing her cheek to her father’s scruffy one. Snapping a few live photos of the two. 

“I wanna see” her palm out towards you for the phone. 

You shuffled yourself beside her, tilting the phone so they both could see the photos. 

“Look so beautiful. Hm?” Harry marveled, placing a gentle kiss to her cheek.

She grinned at his acclaim, “Yes” she dragged out the s. Nodding her head in a gentle manner before placing a kiss on his cheek.

“You look so good too, H” you tell him. Your hand rubbing the cheek that wasn’t occupied by Ava.

He, without a doubt, did. He decided to stop shaving the last two weeks and gosh did he look good. The turquoise color brought out the green of his eyes. Instead of letting his hair down, he decided he’d clip it back with one of your clips.

He kissed you on the lips then on your cheek in result, Also exchanging a string of compliments your way, by whispering some not safe for kid ears into yours.. Your stomach did a bit of a flip at his husky voice, before you slapped his chest in a truce like manner.

“Milo! Let’s go outside!” Harry shouted out, clutching your hand as he led the three of you downstairs. 

–––––

The four of you were outside in the white blanket. Milo was doing his zoomies, astounded with this new found discovery. Before his non-stop running. The first thing Milo did, when he came in contact with the snow, was freeze (ears up in curiosity), then he stuck his nose into the snow, ate some snow. Now he was running in circles. 

Ava loved this, perched up on Harry’s shoulder as she giggled, her nimble finger following Milo’s body.

You had Harry’s phone pointed at the two of them, videoing the whole family. 

And Harry was feeling gratified. His baby was on his shoulder happy as a lark. His other baby had a radiating smile on her beautiful face while recording these moments. as always. And his pup was having the time of his life

“Baby!” you lose it when Harry also looks away from Milo to face you in no time. “Ava...Can you catch a snowflake like this?”

Harry blows a huff. He hates when you do that (half the time on purpose). Watching you tilt your head back, eyes closed, and your tongue out as you catch snow in your mouth. 

Ava catches on, her eyes go a bit crossed when she tries to see the snow landing on her tongue. 

“Here, baby, hold her for a bit” he tells you, bringing her down into your open arms (so she’s now on your hip). He leans down a bit to gather a bit of snow in his hands to make a snowball. Then once he’s done, he has a mischievous smile when he targets it to your chest. 

It startles you, “Harry!” 

And you halt, again, when the kid on your hip starts to wail. Her head thrown back and her eyes closed, sealed tight.

"Aww. Don't cry baby. Look at what you did Harry" you reprimand him in a jest. His eyebrows raise in surprise, not expecting for this to end in her tears. "Daddy's mean right? Watch this" you shush her, watching her until she opens her eyes, only in small hiccups. 

You crouch down carefully pulling some snow into your fist.

“Watch baby, gotta get revenge” you tell her smiling. Raising yourself up to then fling the snow into Harry’s chest. Ever the dramatic man. He clutched his heart over his jacket before falling back into the sea of snow groaning out. Opening one eye, when he hears the laugh of his precious girl. 

“Here” you tell Ava, giving her own ball of snow. She eyes it for a little before she tries to shove the snow into her mouth like crazy. Very likely you shouldn’t have shown her how to catch the snowflakes beforehand. You roll your eyes at Harry when you hear his chuckles at the exchange. 

When you tell her no and to throw it you watch her laugh as she flings it on top of her father. Who then groans again and lays with his tongue out and body spread out like the chalk outlines. You set her down to the ground and she zips to the “dead” body. She pokes his eye like earlier today because it always works, but when it doesn’t she relents to other forces.  

“Mimi!” she calls the shepheard over, pointing down at Harry. Who is slowly breaking his facade (but she doesn’t notice). Milo bounded forward to his owner with zeal. Sniffing around Harry for a bit before licking his face, inducing Harry to shout. Jump scaring the three of you, especially poor Milo who dashed away and Ava who fell on her butt. 

Ava didn’t appreciate it. Taking snow between her mittens and crushing it into H’s chest causing a laugh out of all you. 

–––––

The sun was about to set and Harry and Ava were rolling up the last ball for the snowman’s head. You were smoothing the parts that were a bit rough. Milo was back in the house. Too tired from all the running he was doing, but you were able to get some family shots with him too. 

“Be careful, babe” Ava tells Harry (unnecessarily loud), when his foot gets caught in an icy patch.

“Thank you babe” he tells her, leaning down to kiss her chin. “Wonder where she gets that from. Hm?” he teases you, winking at you and puckering his lips to blow you a kiss. As you smile shyly looking away from him. 

They were on either side of you.  Ava nestled into your side, her arms around one of yours. All while Harry begins to lift the final snowball onto the other two. 

“There you go baby. Olaf!” he tells her one she’s finished. 

She isn’t excited and looks at the figure confused for a minute. You look up at Harry, eye brows pinched, he looks at you the same way, his hands on his hip when he shrugs at you. 

A little gasp makes you both turn your head to see her eyes light up and finger pointed upward, like in the movies.

“Forget his buttons, eyes, and nose” she tells you, trying to point at where each thing went. 

“You’re so right, smart girl, let me go get them, find some sticks too.”

You shuffle through the backdoor. Gaining ompant when Milo decides to come out of the living room. Rubbing his head on the way there. Going into the fridge you get the shortest carrot in the bag before moving into the fireplace for some coal.

When you walk back out, Ava is sitting on Harry's shoulders again. Her arms wrapped around his forehead with an iron grip. You hand her the carrot.

“Thank you mommy” she cheered, the tip of her cheeks getting firmer with her grin. 

You pinch her cheeks a little bit, in response. Turning around to place the coals in a shape of a smile, using the last five as his buttons and eyes. While doing this you notice the skinny branches as his arms.  

“Okay Miss Styles time for you to do the honor. Go ahead and give him his nose”

Harry squats down until Ava's leveled with the snowman's head. She decides, among herself, to twirl the carrot around so the pointed part of the carrot gets buried in the snow. You truly don't have the heart to correct her when you see how proud of herself she is. 

Once she finishes, Harry picks her up and off his shoulder so she's settled on his hip instead. He jostles her around, shouting an array of  "Yay! Ava!" The three of you clapping your hands together to celebrate. All while Ava revels in the abundance of praise, yet she huddles her into the comforts of her dad's shoulder. 

Her first snow day had gone way better than either of you would have imagined. You personally assumed that she would have hated it. Especially since it was a very cold substance. Or she would have cried the whole time, wanting to go back in instantly.

If anything, it was more perfect than anything. You loved your little family and there was quite possibly nothing that could replace the rush of emotions you felt when you were with them. Making these treasured moments. You think this all while Harry pulls you in for a kiss.

read a little continuation of this family here!

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if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it <3

[thorniest-rose]

I wish we discussed italian daniel more!!!!!!

Oh my god you know I love Italian Daniel!!! And Italian Daniel who’s really pompous about it too. Like you meet him for the first time and within the first 5 minutes of talking to him, he’s already told you all about his Italian heritage and where in Italy his family’s originally from. And it’s just like, “Okay king thanks for that, but I didn’t need to know about your entire family tree, can we please talk about something else?” 

It’s a cornerstone of his personality too. Daniel grew up bilingual because of his dad so he can speak Italian fluently, which he does with Lucille all the time when they’re together. It’s a way of remembering his father, but it also means he can talk about people (Johnny) openly without them realising. And he has a habit, when he gets angry or emotional, of slipping between English and Italian without realising it. 

He also loves cooking Italian food and is really snooty about any kind of fast-food Italian. He makes his own bread and pasta from scratch, and he stocks his pantry with the most eye-wateringly expensive Italian wines, vinaigrettes, peppers, olives, you name it. This means he refuses to take the kids to Olive Garden because he thinks it’s a disgrace to Italian cuisine. He won’t even let them order pizza on the weekends. Instead he insists on making pizza himself from scratch, which admittedly tastes amazing, but sometimes Amanda and the kids just want something easy! And they can’t have it!! One night Daniel finds a pizza box in Sam’s room after she comes home from hanging out with friends and Daniel’s so offended it takes him the entire weekend to recover. 

And maybe if Daniel had grown up during the High Renaissance he would have been the muse of artists and his visage would have been painted in churches and castles across Italy. But instead he grew up in New Jersey and couldn’t be coddled, he had to be tough and scrappy to survive. But with his cross necklace glimmering against his collarbone, and his thick hair and creamy skin, people’s eyes would still catch on him as he ran down the street. Especially when he moved to the Valley and felt like a misfit in the sea of blonde, blue-eyed kids. He was like something unknown, almost too wild and pretty to look at head on. He stood out everywhere he went, like a swoony boy from a painting. At least until he opened his mouth and said something ridiculous in his husky voice. And people realised, oh he’s not an angel, he just looks like one.

In his 20s, after graduating from college, Daniel also went to Italy and spent a summer there to reconnect with his roots. It’s there that he learned all about fine art and the difference between the grapes in Italian wine and how to ride an unbridled horse. And while he was there, standing out because of how American he was, like a modern soul in a renaissance angel body, he had a reckless, wild affair with an older man. It’s something he never tells anyone about when he goes back to America, but every now and then Daniel will read the man's old letters, or look at the sketches the man made of him, the nude ones where Daniel’s in the bath or sitting outside against a Tuscan sunset, and feel nostalgic. It was just a summer fling but it was the first time Daniel has ever felt truly desired by someone, and the sunlit, syrupy weeks he spent in the man’s bed and in his studio seem like something from a dream, especially now, in his 50s, when he has a wife and children. But sometimes he looks at the young Daniel LaRusso in these drawings and thinks, wow, that was really me.

[cordria]

Second Chances

Unlike popular opinion, Clockwork wasn’t the master of all time. Just the 50,000,317 most likely ones. And he didn’t really know which of those times would happen - he was just very skilled at statistics and probability.

And, being the master of time, he knew that in only 47 of those fifty-million-or-so futures does this particular person show up at his front door right now. That gave the knock at his door only a 0.000094% chance of happening.

Which explains why he wasn’t waiting for her.

Clockwork pulled open the door to glare at the human woman. She was dressed in a blue protective outfit, some sort of jetpack on her back, and a weapon dangling loosely from her hand. 

“I would like your help,” Maddie Fenton said without introducing herself.

He ran a tongue over his teeth. Of the 47 futures where this happened, only four of them turned out for the best. 8.5%. Statistically bad enough odds it wasn’t worth engaging in conversation. “No.” He floated backwards, intent on shutting the door and sending the woman home.

The weapon came up, whirring up a charge and glowing dangerously. “Let me rephrase it, then. You’re going to help me.”

Clockwork raised an eyebrow and shifted his form to his sixteen-year-old self, intentionally parroting her son’s age. One blast from her weapon would hurt, but it certainly wouldn’t cause permanent damage. He would have just continued to close the door, but in one of the 47 futures, she was pushed to violence and it ended with the utter destruction of the infinite realms. Even a 2% chance of that happening was too high. “Very well,” he said, releasing the door. He would appease her for now. “Come in, Mrs Fenton.”

Maddie let the charge in the weapon fade away and she stepped inside, glancing around. He wondered if she found all the clocks and ticking noises as off-putting as her son did. He prodded at his lair, turning up the volume.

“What is it you need help with?” he asked, as if he didn’t know. In 46 of those 47 universes, she came here for the same thing.

“I need to go back in time. Back to the accident.”

Clockwork rested his weight on his staff and shifted to an older age. He didn’t bother to ask which accident. The goal was to talk her out of this, not bore himself. “Why?”

Her shoulders dropped. “I can’t… sleep.”

He hummed and waited.

“... Just… knowing what he went through by himself. It hurts too much.” Even through the mask on her face, she looked to be in pain. 

A human mother, driven to violence for the sake of her child, was a dangerous thing. Clockwork narrowed his eyes and felt his fingers tighten on his staff. Hopefully he would not have to destroy the woman to protect against that chance of oblivion. Daniel would not take it well. “And you want to go back and stop it from happening?”

Maddie shook her head. “I want to be there for him.” 

He cocked his head, wordlessly asking her to continue. 

“I’ve thought this through a dozen times. More.” She spoke slowly and thoughtfully. “I don’t think I can take this from him. This is who he is, and he’s better for it. Everyone is better for it.” She was quiet for a moment. “But he doesn’t have to do it alone. I can be there for him.” Her words picked up speed and confidence. “I can be home, be there for him for once instead of out chasing some ghost that wasn’t there. I can be the one that finds him instead of his friends. I can… I can be a good mother for once.”

“You are a good mother,” Clockwork assured her.

“No, I’m not,” she scowled. “The last month has made that incredibly clear. But I could be.”

Clockwork drummed his fingers on his staff. This conversation had narrowed down the 47 possible universes to 22. That meant 18.2% of those turned out well, including one that was a wonderful potential future. “Interesting,” he murmured, changing his mind about shooing the woman away. 

“What is?” She blinked at him.

“This.” He turned and headed up a set of stairs, confident the woman would follow. 

“You’ll do it? You’ll send me back?”

Clockwork hummed noncommittally, shifting his form again, aiming for the visage of a wise old man. He floated along in silence until he reached the center of his lair, surrounded by ticking cogs and twirling bits of wheels and dials. The rhythmic sound thrummed through the air, making everything vibrate. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel, before he glanced back at his human visitor.

The woman was clearly not enjoying it. Her hands were over her helmet, obviously trying to press hands against her ears, and he could see her eyes scrunched together in pain. 

Clockwork let everything tick a few more times before he gestured with his staff, bringing everything to a stop. The quiet hurt, almost like he imagined a human heart attack would hurt. But it was ignorable, wouldn’t cause him lasting damage, and would allow for this conversation to happen. “Come here.”

Still blinking back tears, Maddie stepped forwards, studying the swirling green gases. He knew she didn’t have the eyes necessary to make out the 50 million odd futures shifting endlessly in the gas - he tightened his fingers on his staff, bringing one of those futures to the front. 

It was a horrible potential future. Danny was nineteen and had lost his mind. A large swath of both worlds was destroyed. 

Clockwork didn’t watch the scene. He watched the woman. 

She stepped closer, studying the images, slowly raising her hands to her mouth. “That’s the future?” she whispered.

“That’s one of several possible futures,” he said, “if you go through with your plan.”

“So I make it worse.” Her hands fell to her side, her eyes closing, tears slipping down her cheeks. 

He hummed and shifted the future. One she should recognize. It happened today, just a few hours ago - only in a different time stream. This Danny wasn’t sitting at the table with a black eye and broken arm, looking defeated and exhausted and picking at his supper. This one looked happy and vibrant, with a humorous twist to his grin. “This is possible too.”

Maddie watched for a very long time. “Why did you show this to me?”

“So you understand.” Clockwork shifted through futures in the gases, pausing each for a second so she could see them. Although he showed her a mix of bad futures and good ones, the bad was much more common. “Any of these are possible. We are already in a time stream that is one of the best outcomes. You going back might assuage your pain, but it doesn’t necessarily help your son.”

She sank to her knees, staring blankly at the shifting futures.

“If you do this, you have a much greater chance of making the future worse than making it better.”

“You want me to just go home,” she said quietly.

“It would be the safest outcome,” Clockwork said. The best possible outcome appeared on the screen again - a carefree young man with a strong support system. Clockwork leaned on his staff, studying the future, feeling it out. Dark Dan didn’t exist in this time stream. The New War wasn’t hovering on the horizon; instead there loomed a powerful king that would bring in a new age of peace and prosperity for the infinite realms. He cut his eyes over to Maddie Fenton. “But not the best.”

Maddie stared at the screen, tears still lingering on her cheeks behind the protective helmet. He could almost feel her longing for that image to be true. For her son to not be lying in his bed right now, in pain and feeling utterly alone.

“You can build a relationship out of the past we have. You can repair some of the damage that’s been done.” 

“But I’ll never have that,” she whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from the carefree smile on the young hybrid’s face.

“No,” Clockwork agreed. 

She was very quiet. Time wasn’t passing and Clockwork was infinitely patient. It was important that she made the right decision, and he was willing to wait. He aged his form a bit more, feeling his back curl, his beard lengthen, his knobby fingers clinging to the staff to hold himself upright.

“What’s the difference?” she asked, finally looking over at him and pointing towards the screen. “What’s the difference between that one and the bad ones? If I went back, how do I make sure that happens?”

“You’re the difference,” Clockwork said, “and you alone. Your choices. Your love. Your acceptance.” He tipped his head. “Your stability, your rationality, your rules, your respect. The balance you choose to strike between his freedom and boundaries parents must place upon youth.” He let his hold on the screen relax, and it started to shift between possibilities again.

She laughed, a soft disbelieving sound. “So it’s all on me.”

Clockwork arched an eyebrow. “You came to me. What else did you expect?”

“I’m not sure,” she whispered. “Can you tell me? Can you tell me what to change?”

“The difference comes in a million little choices you would make every day. It’s not one thing.” Clockwork tipped his head. “Will you risk it? Will you risk this,” he froze the image on utter destruction, “for a chance at this?” he sent it back to the best possible future. “Or will you go home, play it safe, and build a life out of the decisions you’ve already made?”

He watched her get back to her feet and take an uncertain step forward, reach out a gloved hand, and touch the smiling image of her son. “I…”

Clockwork felt the future shift. The probabilities change. 

“I will,” she breathed. “I’ll risk it. I can be a better mother. I know it.”

“Very well.” He nudged the swirling mass with his staff, and it resolved into an image of the Fenton basement laboratory a bit more than two years previously. The portal was silent and dark. “The future rests on you.”

Maddie gave an uncertain chuckle. “No pressure, huh?”

“Just the fate of two entire worlds,” Clockwork agreed. The back end of his staff caught her knees, sending her stumbling forward through the portal. “Choose wisely. Time in.”

He watched her steady herself on a table in the lab, looking around the dark basement. 

“I’ll be right back,” came a shout from upstairs.

Clockwork watched Maddie flinch, then duck under a table just before the lights flickered on. She couldn’t let them know she was here until after the accident.

Danny Fenton tromped down the steps, his friends in hot pursuit. “You guys don’t need to come down here. My parents will kill you if they find you down here.”

“No they won’t,” Tucker Foley said, “your mother likes me.”

“And your dad likes me,” Sam Manson added. “They’ll just kill you.”

“Fair point,” Danny muttered. “But let’s not get caught anyways.”

Clockwork rested his weight on his staff and shifted his form to that of a toddler. “Good luck, child,” he said. 

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Beauty and The Brando - Dio Brando (1/2)

This is gonna be a royal clusterfuck

Beauty and the Beast x Stardust Crusaders

Dio Brando x Reader

CAST:

Beast - Dio Brando Belle - Reader Maurice ( Belle's Father ) - Roses ( Joseph's driver ) The Servants - Dio's servants Gaston - Kujo Jotaro LeFou - Jean - Pierre Polnareff Monsieur D'Arque - Joseph Joestar The Baker - Muhammad Avdol The Bookseller - Kakyoin Noriaki The Triplettes - Jotaro's classmates Featherduster - Mariah  Lumiere - Daniel J. D'Arby Cogsworth - Terence T. D'Arby Mrs. Potts - Enyaba Chip - Oingo & Boingo Sultan ( the dog ) - Pet Shop The Wardrobe - Midler Chef Bouche - N'Doul Philippe ( the horse ) - Hol Horse Enchantress - Holy Kujo The Rest of the Servants - Dio's Tarot Servants

CLICK HERE FOR:

PART 2

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Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a young nobleman lived in the great Joestar mansion. Although he had everything his heart desires, as he was a greatly ambitious man with high intellect, the nobleman was ruthless, selfish and unkind, enough so that he managed to poison his own adoptive father, who was kind enough to abide his debt to his biological father, albeit being, unbeknownst to him, the treachery of a vile, heartless and greedy man. And if that wasn't enough to show the merciless soul of the one and only greatest Lawyer of this land, the charming Dio Brando, he had to ruin the life of his adoptive brother and his wife as well...

But then, one winter's night, an old beggar woman came to the mansion and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold.

Repulsed by the woman's haggard appearance, the nobleman sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away. But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within. And when he dismissed her again, the old woman's ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress, with hair golden like the Sun's rays and eyes and eyes like the azure sky.

The prince tried to apologise, realising that he didn't yet possess such extraordinary powers, but it was much too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart, and as punishment, she transformed him into a huge, hideous, immortal beast and placed a powerful spell on the castle and all who lived there.

Dio Brando was transformed into a Vampire, as the rose's thorns entangled around him, almost as if they electrified him, as the Enchantress put a stone mask on his face, digging its spikes onto his otherwise gorgeous visage...

Ashamed of his monstrous form, despite the power he possessed, the Vampire concealed himself inside his castle, with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world.

The rose she had offered, that before was used to transform him, morphed back to to its original, much less harmful appearance, which would grant him a painful immortality, as a lesson to learn how much despair and sorrow one who wishes to conquer the world must endure, watching every form of life wilt away around him.

However, if he could learn to love another, and earn her love in return by the time the 100 years predicted, when the last petal would fall, then the spell would be broken, and if will be able to live a normal life again.

If not, he would be doomed to waste away and remain a timeless beast until the Earth was no more.

As the years passed, he had countless women brought in by his charming appearance, by his alluring voice, by his never-ending wealth, but he was well aware that he loved none of those wenches, and clearly, neither truly loved him, but his power, so he fell into despair and lost all hope, for who could ever learn to love such a beast that could easily snap a human's neck with merely his fingers, as if they are nothing more than a delicate dove?

--------

~ 100 Years Later ~

It was a beautiful morning, but not as beautiful as the cheerful young lady who skipped the stairs of her home, leaving with a basket in her hand and made her way into the town to do her daily routine, singing her heart out.

“Little town It's a quiet village Every day Like the one before Little town Full of little people Waking up to say...” she sang in a soft voice, in a way not being content with the usual conservatory routine of the little town, hidden away from most of the civilisation and modernisation of the other big-cities around.

“Bonjour! Bonjour! Bonjour! Bonjour! Bonjour!” everyone started greeting the young girl with happy grins on their faces. “There goes the baker with his tray, like always The same old bread and rolls to sell Every morning just the same Since the morning that we came To this poor provincial town” Y/N sang again, doing a little twirl as she greeted the tall man.

“Good morning, Y/N!” the baker greeted her as he took a few loaves of bread to sell at his boulangerie. “Good morning, monsieur Avdol!” she greeted back, in a polite voice. “Where you off to?” he asked, getting the loaves inside. “Mr. Kakyoin’s Bookshop. I just finished the most wonderful story! About elves and dwarves and dunedain and ...” she tried to tell him, her excitement obvious in her voice, but... “That’s nice. Iggy, the baguettes, hurry up!” the man interrupted her, obviously not having time for her fantasies. “Look there she goes, that girl is strange, no question Dazed and distracted, can't you tell?” 2 elderly women chanted as the girl merely sighed and walked away, used to how judgemental the people of this little town can be.

“Never part of any crowd 'Cause her head's up on some cloud No denying she's a funny girl that Y/N!” some other villagers sang together, as the girl went on her merry way towards the bookshop. “Bonjour, good day How is your family? Bonjour, good day How is your wife? I need six eggs That's too expensive!” every person around the market was singing in their own tune. “There must be more than this provincial life!” Y/N sang, a bit tired of this tiresome routine of close-minded people who didn’t want to broaden their horizons.

“Y/N!” Noriaki jolted from his chair, putting his book aside as he greeted the girl with as much enthusiasm as she did. “Good morning! I’ve come to return the book I borrowed.” she handed him the book, as she quickly climbed up the ladder, looking around for any new books. “Already?!” the red haired man looked at her with a slightly shocked, yet slightly amused expression. “Of course, I couldn’t put it down! Have you got anything new?” she asked, just in case, making the man chuckle in glee. “Haha, not since yesterday.” he explained, going to hold the ladder for her. “That’s all right, I’ll borrow this one.” she picked up a book, handing it to the man dressed in green. “That one? But you’ve read it twice!” Kakyoin chuckled, looking at the girl’s glazed eyes. “But it’s my favourite! Far-off places, daring sword fights, magic spells, kings, princesses and dragons!” Y/N grinned widely, playfully hopping off the ladder. “If you like it all that much, it’s yours.” he put the book in her basket, guiding her outside. “But, Mr. Kakyoin-” she tried to object, but the man merely chuckled. “I insist!” he bowed slightly to her, smiling back. “Well, thank you! Thank you very much!” she chirped, already opening the book to start reading right away. “Look there she goes, that girl is so peculiar I wonder if she's feeling well!” the 3 men outside the bookshop sang, huddling together as the girl went past a group of children, hopped the skipping chord and patted the girl on the head. “With a dreamy, far-off look And her nose stuck in a book What a puzzle to the rest of us is Y/N!” the people in the alley sang, as the girl found her way to a fountain where a woman was washing laundry and a small flock of sheep were walking around. “Oh, isn't this amazing? It's my favorite part because you'll see Here's where she meets Faramir the Charming But she won't fall for him 'til chapter thirty-three!” she sang on the fountain to the two sheep that jumped next to her, but as one of them munch the corner of a page, she decided to start moving again. “Now it's no wonder that her nickname is Beauty Her looks have got no parallel” the woman at the beauty parlor sang, snatching her wig and putting a new hat on. “But behind that fair facade I'm afraid she's rather odd Very different from the rest of us.” the man accompanying her showed her the mirror to admire herself. “She's nothing like the rest of us Yes, different from the rest of us is Belle!” the rest of the villagers sang as she went on her merry way, not paying attention to any of them.

“Ora!” was heard, as a goose fell from the sky, and Polnareff quickly ran to put it in his bag. “You didn’t miss even one, Jotaro! You’re the greatest Stand User in the Whole World!” Polnareff praised the brunet man who only grunted, with a cocky smirk, and turned to walk away. “No Stand User stands against you! And no girl, for that matter.” the silver haired man chuckled lowly, nudging his friend. “True, Polnareff. And I’ve got my sights set on that one.” he pointed towards the reading girl who helped an elderly woman with her fruit basket. “The inventor’s daughter?!” Polnareff looked at his friend with a stupid face. “She’s the one. The lucky girl I’m going to marry. I’m so tired of my annoying grandpa pissing me off to marry, and all those stupid bitches fawning over me.” Jotaro scoffed, not even hearing his companion’s objections. “The only Stand User female in town. That makes her the best. And DON’T I deserve the best, considering this mess I’m in?” the brunet sneered in annoyance. “Well, of course you do, Jotaro, but-” PolPol tried to speak, but it was no use. “Right from the moment when I saw her and her Stand... Oh, Gimme a break. Here in town there's only she Who is powerful as me Yare Yare...Making plans to woo and marry Y/N.” Jotaro realised the girl was going farther away from him, so he had to follow her, as he tipped his hat.

“Look there he goes Isn't he dreamy? Monsieur Gaston Oh, he's so cute! Be still my heart I'm hardly breathing He's such a tall, dark, strong and handsome brute!” the 3 highschool girls that kept stalking Jotaro all day long sang, swooning to the ground. “Bonjour, pardon Good day, mais oui! You call this bacon, what lovely flowers Some cheese, ten yards, one pound, excuse me I'll get the knife Please let me through! This bread, those fish, it's stale, they smell! Madame's mistaken- Well, maybe so!” the busy market sang as the girl swiftly made her way through, without as much as bothering to look up from her book.

“There must be more than this provincial life!” Y/N sang her heart’s most burning desire. “Just watch, I'm going to make Y/N my wife!” Jotaro sang in a loud and sure tone as the rest of the villagers got in his way. “Look there she goes the girl is strange, but special A most peculiar mademoiselle! It's a pity and a sin She doesn't quite fit in 'Cause she really is a funny girl A beauty but a funny girl She really is a funny girl That Y/N!” everyone around chimed in, as Jotaro growled in rage, pushing the people away and using Star Platinum to jump on a house’s roof and jump in front of the girl, cutting her path.

“Y/N.” he tipped his hat, looking away. “Bonjour, Jotaro.” she greeted her highschool classmate, not bothering to look at him until he snatched away the book from her hands. “Jotaro, may I have my book back, please?” she asked in a low voice, not wanting to get irritated. “How can you read this? There’s no pictures.” he got the book sideways, making Star flip quickly through the pages. “Well, some people use their imagination.” she explained playfully, yet patiently. “Y/N, it’s about time you got your head out of those books and paid attention to more important things...Like me.” he humpfed, throwing her book in a puddle of mud.  “Riiiight.” she sighed, getting quickly on her knees to gingerly snatch away the book and use her Stand to fix the book. “The whole town’s talking about it. It’s not right for a woman to be so obsessed with her own fantasy world. Soon, she’ll start getting ideas and thinking, and worse, she will want a job and won’t want to settle for being a traditional housewife anymore.” Jotaro grumbled, knowing how stubborn the woman in front of him is. “Jotaro, you are positively primeval.” the girl ignored him, wiping the book’s hard cover gently. “Thank you, Y/N. What do you say you and me take a walk over to the tavern and take a look at all the trophies I’ve taken from the Stand Users I’ve beaten.” he snatched away the book once again, making the girl roll her eyes. “Maybe some other time.” she said, but still got pushed in that direction. “What’s wrong with her? She’s crazy! He’s goooorgeous!” the Bimbettes were fawning over him, gazing with heart eyes from the sidelines. “Please, Jotaro, I can’t. I have to get home to help my father. Goodbye!” she snatched away her book, waving him goodbye awkwardly as she rushed home. “That crazy old loon. He needs all the help he can get!” Polnareff insulted her father, making the brunet man chuckle with him. “Don’t talk about my father that way!” she scolded them, making them stop laughing immediately. “Yare Yare, Polnareff, how dare you talk about her father that way?!” Star Ora’d a bump to Pol’s head. “My father is not crazy. He’s a genius!” the girl scolded them angrily.

However, just as she said that, an explosion from her house was seen, so she ran that way to make sure he’s okay. Of course, apart from his pants getting ripped off, old man Roses was fine, if not, a bit irked, but the girl couldn’t help but chuckle at her dad’s silliness, as he grumpily said he’ll give up his invention.

The girl, knowing how her father can get, hugged him and encouraged him, telling him that he will win tomorrow’s fair and become a world-famous inventor without a doubt, which made the man quickly get back to his invention.

The girl asked her dad whether he thought she was odd or not, considering that she’s an introverted bookworm who was never interested in dating or any of those silly sports or activities that her other highschool classmates do, as she’d rather read a book.

She was feeling all alone in this little town - Apart from her father and Mr. Kakyoin - She had nobody to talk to.

When Roses asked about that Kujo Jotaro guy, the girl groaned, saying how sure, he’s attractive, but that’s just that -  He’s rude to his grandpa and to his friend, he’s conceited and a big jerk and a heartbreaker. So not her style.

In the meantime, her dad managed to make the invention work, so she went to prepare Hol Horse, their family horse, so he could go to the fair and hopefully win with this log-cutter invention, and bidding him farewell, Y/N went back inside the house to do some chores.

On their way to the fair, the father managed to get himself lost in the spooky woods, and Hol Horse quickly got scared by the many bats and wolf howls, so much that the poor horse almost ran off a cliff, making Roses fall off and watch in despair as Hol ran away, followed by hungry, mangy mutts.

Said wolves, however, started running after him, and he managed to find refuge behind some grandiose gates, inside the property of the great Joestar Manor. He knocked, but getting no answer, he timidly wandered inside, asking for a place to stay for the night, as the D’Arby brothers kept arguing in their furniture state.

Roses, shocked by the incredible wonder in front of him, picked up Terence, the Cogsworth, and started touching everywhere to understand how his mechanism worked well enough to even talk freely. Terence started blushing from embarrassment and anger, as he closed his little door, but the older man sneezed in his face because of the dust, making D’arby Jr. wipe away his screen with the clock pointers.

His elder brother, Daniel the Lumiere, was much more charming and sympathetic, guiding the man to warm himself by the fire, as the little brother was trying to stop them, afraid of their Master’s wrath.

Terence fell down the stairs and watched in horror as Daniel guided Roses to the Master’s chair, and if that wasn’t enough, Pet Shop, the Hawk who became a walking cushion chair, jumped on his clock head and flew under the elder man’s feet, not before getting pet, of course, and the clothes hanger offered a warm blanket politely.

Enyaba the Tea Pot came in a huge rush on a plate, along with her two little chipped tea cups, Oingo and Boingo, offering him some tea to warm up - The elderly man chose the youngest tea cup, Boingo, who started giggling because his mustache was tickling him, making the man chuckle fatherly.

Unfortunately for all their cheerful atmosphere, the  door was slammed open, revealing a huge beast-like man with wild mane-like blond hair, piercing amber eyes like a Hawk’s, and long black claw-like nails, growling at them, and putting out the fire in the fire place, making everyone tremble in their spot.

Dio Brando the most Fearful Vampire in the Land, the Beast that was thought to be nothing more than a mere, old urban legend of the village’s...But he was real.

Nobody could argue with their master’s decision as he picked up the man, glaring at him, telling him that he’s not welcomed here, and throwing him in a prison cell, not caring for any kind of explanation.

It was a grim night.

---

The next day, unbeknownst to Y/N, Jotaro and Polnareff, helped by Grandpa Joseph, made a cute little garden wedding for Jotaro and Y/N...That, before even proposing to the girl or even dating her.

Nonchalantly, he got into the girl’s house, as she was reading peacefully, and intimidatingly started walking around, telling her that today was the day all her dreams would come true, telling her his fantasies, their future life together, as she tried to walk away from him.

She manged to get the perfect opportunity as she leaned on the door and with the help of her Stand, opened said door and pushed him out, locking the door, putting his hat on the doorstep and watching as he fell into a huge puddle of mud.

As much as she was pissed off at that stupid cardboard head’s proposal, as she doesn’t want to limit herself to that provincial life, so she sang as she went into the garden, laying down between the flowers, saying how she’d hope someone would finally understand her thirst for knowledge and adventure...

That is, until she heard a loud neigh and Hol Horse galloped next to her, worrying her as her father was nowhere to be seen. Wasting no time, she got the carriage off his back and got a warm cloak, putting it around her, and jumped on the horse, letting it guide her to the huge Joestar Manor.

It was scary.

It was so scary that Hol Horse wanted to run away again, but the girl quickly jumped off of it as soon as she saw Roses’ hat inside the manor’s garden, so she realised she had to brave her fears and get inside the castle-like household, while all the furniture servants were talking between themselves, hoping that she was the fateful girl who would be able to break the spell.

Y/N kept looking around for her dad, until she got to the dungeons, as she called out for her Papa, until finally, someone responded - It was indeed her Papa, locked inside a cell, coughing, most likely ill.

“Your hands are like ice! We have to get you out of there.” she explained, holding his hand tightly as she looked around for a way to get him out of there. “Y/N, I want you to leave this place.” her father warned her, his eyes wide and filled with fright as he looked around to make sure there was no fiend around. “What?! I won’t leave you!” she gasped in shock at his words. “What are you doing here?” a growl was the only thing she heard as she was roughly pulled away from the door by the huge Vampire. “Who’s there? Who are you?” she asked, trying to gather herself from the floor. “It is me, DIO, the master of this castle.” a low, yet alluring voice came from the shadows as Dio Brando lurked around like a ghost in the darkness. “I’ve come for my father! Please, let him out! Can’t you see he’s sick?!” she pleaded, crawling to her father’s side, behind the barred door, as she strained her eyes to get a better look at his captor. “Then he SHOULDN’T have trespassed here!” Dio growled his answer, towering over the pleading girl. “But he could die! Please, I-I..I’ll do anything!” she begged him with all her heart, but the Beast in front of her merely turned away from that pitiful sight. “There’s nothing you can do. He’s my prisoner.” Dio spoke in a low voice, walking away. “There must be some way I can...WAIT!” she yelled out loud, catching the Vampire’s attention. “...Take me instead.” she declared in a much softer voice, almost inaudible, were it not for his fine hearing. “You?!...Why would YOU take his place? You’re young, you have your whole life ahead of you, and you’d rather waste it away, rotting in such a place, just to offer this geezer’s a few years more to live?” the blond man prowled in front of the petite girl, towering over her, looking at her with a foreign shock and curiosity. “Y/N, no! You don’t know what you’re doing!” her father tried to beg her not to do something so foolish. “He’s my father...He’s the only person who ever believed, cared and loved me, from all that town filled with hypocrites, ingrates and close-minded low-lives. I’d do anything to know he’s okay...So...If I were to take his places...Would you let him go?” her voice was filled with both anger at the village and the way they treated her, but also sorrow, for having to choose to be separated from her papa, because of such an unfortunate twist of events. “Yes. But you must promise to stay here forever. Are you willing to make such a sacrifice for someone else?” he asked, in a voice, almost as if she was making a pact with the devil himself. “...Come into the light.” she demanded, and without much hesitation, the man stepped into the moonlight offered by the crack in the ceiling, making the girl gasp and step back, hitting her back to the wall seeing the man that was almost twice her size in height and at least 10 times in muscle weight, as his elongated teeth were shining like a predator’s. “No, Y/N, I won’t let you do this!” her father pleaded, but with one last look at him, the girl knew she had to do anything in her power to save him, the way he saved her every day. “You have my word.” she walked in front of the Beast, who looked at her with mild interest, before nodding slightly.

As the Vampire walked past her to liberate the old man, the girl’s knees weakened from so many pent up emotions, and she fell to the ground, while Roses hugged her tightly, trying to change her mind.

But the Beast already had his mind set - The girl was his and his alone.

As Dio hurried to throw the old man into a carriage, ordering to be sent back to the village, he noticed the girl huddled by a little window, crying her eyes out, all the regret in her heart for not even be allowed to say her final goodbyes.

Something in the blond man’s heart seemed to break, even though he thought that heart to be there no more, but this...This was something that he never expected to ever feel in this life.

“I’ll show you to your room.” he ordered the girl, as she looked at him with confusion in her wide fawn-like eyes. “R-Room? But...I thought...?” she stuttered, looking around in the tower room her father was once imprisoned in. “Would you rather stay in this tower? If not, then follow me.” Dio tsked, not even waiting for an answer as he made his way to one of the guest rooms.

The girl followed close after, being scared and still tearing up softly as she looked left and right to see creepy gargoyle and monster-like statues, as the only source of light offered came from Daniel’s little candle fire.

“Say something to her, she’s in distress! Be the British Gentleman you were born as!” the Lumiere whispered, urging his Master to do something. “...I hope this place will be to your liking...This Mansion is your home as well as it is mine and the servants’ now, therefor you are allowed to go anywhere to your heart’s content, save for the west wing.” the blond explained the castle’s places to go, but of course, Y/N was a curious girl and she wanted answers. “Why, what’s in the west wing-” she tried to ask, only to be cut off swiftly. “It’s forbidden.” Dio turned to glare at her for a split second, making her eek  in surprise, before continuing his way to her room, opening the door for her. “Should you need anything, you need only just ask, and my servants will attend to you.” he said, almost robotically. “Dinner! Invite her to dinner!” Daniel nudged his master, as he nodded. “You shall join me for dinner. That is an order, not a request.” Dio slammed the door shut behind him, letting the girl groan in frustration and fright, jumping on the bed to sob her feelings away.

At the same time, Jotaro was growling and drinking his anger away, as Polnareff tried to pacify his friend who felt disgraced by that simpleton woman’s rejection. The silver haired man started singing as he tried to cheer him up.

“No one's slick as JoJo No one's quick as JoJo No one's neck's as incredibly thick as JoJo's For there's no man in town half as manly Perfect, a pure paragon!” Polnareff sang, taking out Silver Chariot and strangling Joots with a belt, only to see the leather snap with ease at a simple flex. “You can ask any Koichi, Okuyasu, or Josuke! And they'll tell you whose team they prefer to be on!”  the silver haired man chirped proudly as he got picked up.

“No one's big like JoJo A king pin like JoJo!” the 1-Braincell trip chanted, most likely drunk.

“No one's got a swell cleft in his chin like JoJo!” Polnareff grinned, poking his chin.

“Yare Yare Daze...Of course, I’m an intimidating man.” Jotaro flexed his arms, taking out Star Platinum who mimicked his action.

“My, what a guy, that JoJo Give five "hurrahs!" Give twelve "hip-hips!" JoJo is the best And the rest is all drips!” the crown from the Tavern, along with the French man, sang cheerfully, until the latter managed to throw beer at Jotaro’s face, angering him.

“No one fights like JoJo Douses lights like JoJo In a wrestling match nobody bites like JoJo!” Jotaro Ora’d the hell out of Polnareff with his Star Platinum, as he himself jumped on the table, wrestling all the men there. 

“For there's no one as burly and brawny“ the three Bimbettes sang, having heart eyes watching the man show off. “As you see I've got biceps to spare.” effortlessly, Star lifted the bench on which the 3 girls were sitting.

“Not a bit of him's scraggly or scrawny” the silver haired man got up, nudging the brunet.  

“That's right! And ev'ry last inch of me's covered with hair.“ the lad ripped off the tank top he had underneath his school uniform jacket.

“No one hits like JoJo Matches wits like JoJo!“ the crowd chanted, as Jotaro flipped the checkers table in anger, realising he was going to lose.

“In a spitting match nobody spits like JoJo!” Polnareff giggled like a schoolgirl, making his friend glare at him.

“Don’t even think about it.” Jotaro sneered at him.

“When I was a wee lad, I ate four dozen bentos my mother made me Ev'ry morning to help me get large And now that I'm grown, I eat five dozen bentos So I'm roughly the size of a barge.” Jotaro smirked widely, flexing and showing off.

“No one shoots like JoJo Makes those beauts like JoJo!” the crown sang merrily as the brunet man used Star Finger to make holes in a barrel and let beer fall as if it was a fountain.

“Then goes tromping around wearing boots like JoJo!” Polnareff screamed loudly to be heard from all the loud stomping Jotaro did as he slumped back in his throne-like red chair. 

“I use enemy Stand Users’ heads in all of my decorating.” he showed off, pointing on the large wall filled with trophy heads.

“Say it again Who's a man among men? And then say it once more Who's the hero next door? Who's a super success? Don't you know? Can't you guess? Ask his fans and his five hangers-on There's just one guy in town who's got all of it down” the crowd chanted as they raised up the chair he was in, but dropped them on Polnareff’s poor back.

“And his name's J--O--T--A... J--O--O--T--S... J--O--E--S--......”  the silver haired man tried his best to spell breathlessly from under the chair, but with no luck, so he let the rest of the people chant his friend’s name.

KUJO JOTARO!

Just as they finished the song, Roses barged into the tavern, asking for help, but of course, nobody believed him, so he was thrown out of the pub as everyone kept laughing -

Until Jotaro smirked, realising that he could use the influence his grandpa has as the Asylum owner, and if he throws the old man there, Y/N would surely fall to his feet and marry him!

“No one plots like JoJo” the two friends’ Stands started dancing around the tavern together, celebrating the future victory of their unbeatable plan.

“Takes cheap shots like JoJo” Jotaro sang, as Star Platinum lifted Silver Chariot in the air.

“Plans to persecute harmless crackpots like JoJo” Polnareff laughed obnoxiously.

“So, his marriage we soon will be celebrating! My what a guy JoJo!” everyone in the pub chanted loudly and cheerfuly.

---

Returning back to Y/N’s room, a soft knock on the door woke her up from the trance of tears, and she soon realised that Old Enyaba, along with Oingo and Boingo came to help her calm down...

But how could this be possible? A walking, talking tea pot? Tea cups as well? Her surprise was even bigger as she bumped into Midler, the cheerful wardrobe, so of course, despite how bewildering this...Everything was...

She couldn’t help herself but sit on the ground and drinking the little tea that Boingo could fit.

“That was a rather brave thing you did, dear, if not, a tad foolish." Enyaba spoke in a grandma-like voice. “We all think so...” Midler spoke in a sympathetic voice. “But...I’ve lost everything. My father, my dreams, my future, my sense of self...” Y/N sighed, an obvious sad look on her face. “Cheer up, child, it will turn out all right in the end, that much, I can predict, you’ll see. Oh, listen to me, jabbering on, while there’s supper to get on the table. Oingo, Boingo, let’s go!” Enyaba jumped out of the room, as the two brother cups said their goodbyes. “Hmmm, what shall we dress you in tonight? Let’s see what I got in my drawers!...! OOPS! Haha...How embarrassing...” Midler laughed awkwardly as some moths got out of her, before taking out a cute, little pink dress. “Oh, you’ll look ravishing in this one!” “That’s very kind of you, but I’m not going to dinner.” the girl tried to say, but just then, Terence came to tell her that dinner is served.

Down in the dining room, the Master was stomping around the room mindlessly, waiting for the girl to come, as he snapped impatiently at his servants who were just as anxious as he was.

Of course, they were all aware that this was the only opportunity they had to make the pair fall in love, but Dio was cursing himself out loud for allowing that damn enchantment to mess with appearance, no longer looking as charming as a prince as 100 years ago.

Dio was desperate, he wanted his life back, but he had no idea how to make himself be presentable and calm in front of this contemporary damsel that he caused the distress of. 

He was just like the dragon who kidnapped the princess and kept her in imprisoned, so he’d be surely damned before he would ever be able to make her fall in love with him.

As Enyaba and Daniel tried to give him the basic tips and remind him how to be a proper gentleman, Terence came, fumbling on his words...Until he spewed that the girl won’t be attending dinner...

Which is when the Vampire snapped and letting out a pitched “WRYYYYYYY”, he stomped his way quickly to the girl’s new room, banging harshly on the door.

“I suggest you get out of that room, otherwise I will break the door!” he yelled, clawing at the door in anger.

“Uh...Master...I could be wrong but...I doubt that is how you will gain her affections.” Daniel spoke awkwardly. “Please! Attempt to be a gentleman!” Terence pleaded his master. “But she is being so difficult!” Dio sneered lowly, throwing his arm dramatically to point at the door. “Gently! Geeeeently!” Enyaba tried to pacify his master, as he took a deep breath, trying to control himself. “Will you come down to dinner?” he asked, this time in a scorned, yet low, feign-calmer voice. “No!” was her only interjection, that made the blond man grit his teeth, glaring at his servants, to make them realise she couldn’t be reasoned with. “Suave! Geeentle!” Terence tried to speak in a softer voice. “...It would give me great pleasure if you would join me for dinner...Please.” he managed to say, albeit with a lot of pauses to calm himself. “No, thank you!” she called out from inside the room. “I AM DIO BRANDO, YOU CAN’T HIDE FROM ME FOREVER, I AM THE MASTER OF THIS PLACE! Even if you attempt to hide behind that door, you can’t stay there forever!” Dio yelled at her in an obviously angry voice. “Watch me!” was the only thing she replied. “FINE! Then go ahead and STARVE, you spoiled little missy!...If she doesn’t eat with me, then she doesn’t eat at all!” Dio’s voice echoed throughout the whole mansion, making the servants icky with fear and disappointment.

“Older brother, stand watch at the door and see if anything changes.” Terence ordered his elder brother. “Oui, mon frere!” Daniel nodded with a military salute as he started guarding the door. “Well, we might as well go downstairs and start cleaning up.” Terence sighed, as him as Enyaba went to help with the cleaning up.

In the West wing, the room that was trashed already from top to bottom, except for a crystal-glass bell in which the magic rose was being trapped, Dio Brando stormed inside said place, grumbling and destroying even more of the furniture to ease his frustration.

“I ask her nicely to dine with me, and she refuses! The nerve! The audacity of that wench! What does she want me to do, beg?! I, Dio Brando, will NEVER beg! Mirror, show me the girl!” he roughly grabbed the mirror, spying on his new captive, and seeing Midler try to console her, trying to tell her that he is not so bad once you get to know him, but the girl was nothing but stubborn, which angered him even more...Or maybe that was just the last bit of hope he had getting stomped on. “That stupid enchantress...Doing something as despicable as this to me...This stupid girl will never be able to see the Dio from 100 years ago, no matter what I do. I’m no JoJo, and she’s no Erina. I guess monsters like me are fated to forever wallow in misery and self-pity their whole life. This was hopeless from the beginning.” he sighed, putting down the mirror gently as he watched another petal fall of the rose.

Back to Y/N’s room, the girl slowly opened the door, peeking to see if anyone was looking around, and seeing the coast clear, she tip toed out of there...As her guard, Daniel, was busy fooling around with Mariah the Featherduster behind the courtains, giggling and flirting like no tomorrow...Until the Lumiere noticed Y/N which made him let Mariah fall to the ground, not even hearing her cursing him.

“Zut alors! She has emerged!” he gasped in shock as the girl made her way to the Kitchens, where she was greeted by Terence, at first, only to have Daniel get in front of him, get her hand, kissing the back of it, and wiggling his eyebrows at her. “Enchante, cherie~!” “If there’s anything we can do to make your stay here more comfortable...” Terence tried to say, before his elder brother burnt his butt with a candle fire. “Well, I guess I’m a bit hungry.” she smiled at them in amusement. “You are? Hear that, she’s hungry! Stoke the fire! Break out the silver, wake the china!” Enyaba started ordering all the dishes to come out at once. “Remember what the master said...!” Terence started sweating in despair. “Pish tosh! I’m not about to let the poor child go hungry!” Enyaba cackled like an old hag. “She’s our guest! We must make her feel welcome here! Right this way, mademoiselle~!” Daniel guided them to the dining room, much to his brother’s anxiety attack. “We- We must be quiet! If the master finds out...” he tried to explain, but Daniel had none of it. “Of course, of course! But what is a dinner without a little music~?”

Daniel brought Y/N to the long banquet table as he started singing and entertaining the girl, so she won’t have to think bad because of what happened before.

"Ma chere Mademoiselle, it is with deepest pride And greatest pleasure that we welcome you tonight And now we invite you to relax, let us pull up a chair As the dining room proudly presents Your dinner!" he spoke in his usual suave voice as he put on a sort-of hat, and the dishes were slowly dancing around him.

“Be our guest, be our guest Put our service to the test Tie your napkin 'round your neck, cherie And we'll provide the rest!” he sang as a few dishes were brought in front of her.

“Soup du jour, hot hors d'oeuvres Why, we only live to serve Try the grey stuff, it's delicious Don't believe me, ask the dishes!” as he opened a tray of little food samples for her to try.

“They can sing, they can dance After all, miss, this is France And a dinner here is never second best!” Daniel sang as the dished from the cupboard got in a formation to resemble the Eiffel Tower.

“Go on, unfold your menu Take a glance and then you'll Be our guest oui, our guest Be our guest!” the Lumiere gave the girl a menu for her to look at. “Beef ragout, cheese soufflé Pie and pudding, on flambé We'll prepare and serve with flair A culinary cabaret!” he continued as a ton of dished danced and sang in front of her, and of course, she couldn’t stop herself and took a bite.

“You're alone and you're scared But the banquet's all prepared No one's gloomy or complaining While the flatware's entertaining!” the spoons started diving inside the punch bowl, like sync dancing in the water.

“We tell jokes, I do tricks With my fellow candlesticks” Daniel was thrown into the air as he used the little flames on his candles to do little firecracker tricks. “And it's all in perfect taste that you can bet Come on and lift your glass You've won your own free pass To be our guest if you're stressed It's fine dining we suggest Be our guest, be our guest, be our guest!” the ale, wine, water and mead caraffas started dancing, pulling Terence along with them. “Life is so unnerving For a servant who's not serving He's not whole without a soul to wait upon Ah, those good old days when we were useful Suddenly those good old days are gone Too long we've been rusting Needing so much more than dusting Needing exercise, a chance to use our skills! Most days we just lay around the castle Flabby, fat and lazy You walked in and oops-a-daisy!”  as the salt started falling down Terence, his elder brother started throwing him around, as if he was dancing with him, until he threw him inside the green jelly, then propelling him away again.

“It's a guest, it's a guest Sake's alive, well I'll be blessed! Wine's been poured and thank the Lord I've had the napkins freshly pressed With dessert, she'll want tea And my dear that's fine with me While the cups do their soft-shoein' I'll be bubbling, I'll be brewing I'll get warm, piping hot Heaven's sakes! Is that a spot? Clean it up, we want the company impressed We've got a lot to do! Is it one lump or two?” Enyaba sang cheerfully, preparing the napkins, the pots with the hot food, and the little cups.

“For you, our guest (she's our guest) She's our guest (she's our guest) Be our guest, be our guest! Our command is your request It's been years since we've had anybody here And we're obsessed With your meal, with your ease Yes, indeed, we aim to please!” the flower holders all went to Y/N for her to admire and sniff in the gorgeous flowers’ smell, while all the plates, forks, knives, spoons and cups were dancing together, getting on their spot on the long table.

“While the candlelight's still glowing Let us help you, we'll keep going...” everyone sang as the candeholders all got up on by one, letting Daniel have the spotlight, on top of one of the cakes.

“Course by course, one by one 'Til you shout, "enough I'm done!" Then we'll sing you off to sleep as you digest Tonight you'll prop your feet up But for now, let's eat up!” Daniel sang as he danced some cabaret, while the the illuminated chandelier, along with a few other coloured lights, came down from behind the courtains, revealing the forks dancing cabaret as well, as the featherdusters all went behind Terence to join the dance.

“Be our guest Be our guest Be our guest Please, be our guest” everyone danced and sang merrily as all the bubbly champagne bottles popped open, making the girl join in the singing, clapping happily, her eyes sparkling with glee and admiration at the incredible show they all put together just for her, along with the tons of dishes she was surrounded by.

“Bravo, that was absolutely wonderful!” she grinned widely in appreciation. “Thank you! Haha, thank you, mademoiselle! Good show, wasn’t it, everyone?...Mon Dieu, look at the time! Now it’s off to bed, off to bed!” Terence tried to usher her back to bed after eating the best meal of her life. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly go to bed now! It’s my first time in an enchanted castle!” she clapped in glee. “E-Enchanted? Who said anything about enchanted...?...IT WAS YOU, WASN’T IT?!” Terence growled at his elder brother, starting to beat him up. “I...Figured it out by myself.” she chuckled in amusement as she parted the quarreling brothers. “I’d like to look around...If that’s alright, of course.” she got out from her seat, looking to her surroundings as if she was a curious meerkat. “Would you like a tour?” Daniel asked charmingly. “Wait a second. Wait a second! I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. We...Can’t let her go poking around in certain places, if you know what I mean.” Terence nudged his elder brother. “Hmm...Perhaps you’d like to take me? I’m sure you know everything there is to know about the castle.” she winked at him, as he couldn’t help but blush. “I...Well...Actually...Oui, je sais.” Terence chuckled awkwardly as he took the girl on a tour, telling her about Baroque and Rococo designs, until he realised she was going to the stairs to the West Wing, and they tried to stop her, but to no avail...

Until they mentioned the Library, and she feigned she was going with them, as they walked ahead, and she went ahead to see what was so interesting in the West Wing that was forbidden.

The place was trashed, unlike any other, and the statues were much scarier. Walking down the creepy corridor, she got in front of this grand door that had a golden beast as a handle, and taking a deep breath, she mustered the courage to go venture inside and look around the room that was nothing more than a ruin she had no idea what to make of.

Looking around, she noticed a big portrait of a man, but it was clawed...So she gingerly put together the parts, revealing a very handsome young man, holding a lawyer’s degree...The man had shiny blond hair and amber eyes...

That man was definitely Dio Brando before he transformed into the frightening beast that he is now.

However, he eyes weren’t enchanted by the gorgeous man for too long, as a little pink shine captured her attention in the corner of her eye, and she noticed a single red-pink rose, floating and glittering inside a glass bell, around it a pink aura that seemed nothing less than magical.

The girl’s curiosity doomed her, as she took off the bell to get a better look at the flower, yet afraid to touch it at first, as it was mesmerising... But it was captivating, it was enchanting, and she couldn’t stop herself as her fingers slowly started inching towards its petals...

Only for a huge shadow to loom over her, as the Vampire came out of nowhere, no sound of movement detected, and he quickly covered the rose again, towering over the girl, glaring and speaking in a dark, threatening voice.

“Why did you come her?! Have you no mind or recollection of what I just said earlier? This place is FORBIDDEN, and for a reason!” his voice was frightening to say the least, making her eyes go wide as saucers from the huge temperament change. “I-I’m really sorry! Curiosity got the best of me and...” she kept stuttering, her hands of in defense as she tried to step back away from him. “I WARNED you NEVER to come here!” he yelled roughly the emphasised words. “I didn’t mean any harm, I’m really sorry!” she tried to calm him down, but he only got angried. “DO YOU REALISE WHAT YOU COULD HAVE DONE?!” he growled, almost animalistic, his long, white fangs now looking even more threatening than before, as he backhanded a desk, breaking it. “Dio, please stop, you’re scaring me!” she glued her back to a broken wardrobe in fear. “GET OUT! GEEEEEET OOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!” he started trashing around like wild, making the girl yelp in fear, as she ran away, taking her cloak and getting out of the mansion.

She didn’t care about the D’Arby brothers’ siblings, nor about the promise or the harsh blizzard going on outside, since winter was rougher than usual - She climbed up on Hol Horse and galloped the hell out of there, hoping to get home, but the road was filled with surprises as the Horse got scared from the big group of wolves that started jumping at him.

He could only run away, unfortunately stomping too hard on the frozen lake, falling in, but somehow managing to get back to the snowy ground...But so did the wolves. In its fear, the Horse kept bucking to his hind legs, making its reins somehow knot themselves on a branch and throwing off the girl, as it tried to fend off the predators. 

Y/N, in fear, got the nearest wooden bat branch she found, trying not to let the hungry pack bite her, trashing around with the bat aimlessly, until one of the wolves managed to bite and tug the wood from her arms, leaving her defenseless, as another one jumped on her, getting her by the cloak and throwing her to the ground, as another tried to jump and maul her.

By good fortune, the girl and her horse were saved by Dio who arrived just in time, letting out a mighty WRYYY and yelling “ZA WARUDO”...And the next time she blinked, there were no more wolves...They disappeared like magic...And all she could see was a big, yellow Stand.

That Stand disappeared quickly, before the girl could even say that she could see it, as the man fell to the ground, panting in exhaustion, a few wounds on him.

“It’s been such a long time since I used my Stand, that I can’t even do it properly anymore. How pitiful of me...To get wounded by some mangy mutts...I should’ve burned them, like I did with JoJo’s stupid Danny.” he growled in a low voice as he fainted to the ground.

The girl then wrapped her cloak around his figure, then made the horse get down so she could get him on and back to the mansion to treat his wounds.

He was obviously weakened when she helped him on his chair by the fire...He couldn’t even look at her from the shame and anger he had in his heart.

“I saw you’re a Stand User...Well, so am I. Will you let me heal you, Dio? It’s the least I can do after you saved me.” she asked him, as she sat kneeling by his side, trying to get a hold of his wounded arm. “No.” he replied as stubbornly as she did before. “What?! Just-...Just hold still!” she took out her beautiful, light blue Stand and used the water it conjured to heal the wound...But not without the Vampire letting out a pitched WRYYYYYYYYY as he yanked his arm back. “IT HURTS!!!” he yelled in her face, but she only frowned. “You’re a century old Vampire and you whine about some sting?! Just hold still and it won’t hurt as much!” she raised her tone at him. “If were to drink the blood from your body, I’d have no more wounds! Besides, none of this would have happened if you hadn’t run away!” he spoke back just as cheeky. “If you hadn’t frightened me, I wouldn’t have run away!” she scoffed, spitting back her comeback. “Well...You shouldn’t have been in the West Wing!” he shot right back after a second of thinking. “Well, you should learn to control your temper!...Now hold still, this might sting a little, but that’s how healing works. At least it has a pretty fast effect.” she said as her Stand carefully started healing his arm, as she held his hand. “By the way...Thank you for saving my life.” she spoke in a much softer voice than before. “...You’re welcome. I won’t take your blood either.” Dio scoffed, turning his back away...But his amber eyes still glanced to the side to take a peek at her.

The whole night was much better for the two of them, and they thought there was nothing else that could possibly disturb their peace for now on...

However, unbeknownst to any of the Mansion’s residents, the one and only Kujo Jotaro, the great great great grandson of his rival and step-brother, but also, the only man he ever respected in his life, was plotting revenge along with grandpa Joseph Joestar, the Asylum’s director...

And that revenge was something nobody could ever expect.

Kujo Jotaro was nothing less than an ambitious man who ALWAYS got his way when he was pissed off.

Click here for

PART 2

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FLP CHAPBOOK OF THE DAY: The What of Underfoot by Julia Blumenreich

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Poet and teacher Julia Blumenreich is a recipient of a Pennsylvania Arts Council grant for her poetry. Her recent work has been published in “The Whirlwind Review, “Philadelphia Stories,” and in “An Anthology of Philadelphia Poets,” edited by Valerie Fox and translated into Romanian by Daniel Dragomirescu. She has published three chapbooks: Meeting Tessie (Singing Horse Press), Artificial Memory (Leave Books) and Blue Angel of a Day (Moonstone Press).

ADVANCE PRAISE FOR The What of Underfoot by Julia Blumenreich

In Julia Blumenreich’s masterful The What of Underfoot, all are “gathered in a cathedral” of innovation, a passionate meditation on love, loss and renewal of the human, animal, and natural worlds. Her poems aim to protect all that is beloved from suffering, yet are fearlessly honest in exposing what is problematic. No writer of denial, the scale of her striking use of language and unexpected twists reveal her insight, as in “when you rid yourself /of who you thought you were.” Ms. Blumenreich speaks in particulars, lines where a gorge “reaches down to pat the creek’s shoulder when it’s lonely”, and, “the bulb looks at the flower in fear”. These poems’ nuanced perspectives on “this life”, whether personal or universal, offer gifts of awe. Her singular command of form, many of her own creation, also enhances the profound breadth of content. Finally, The What of Underfoot, breathless in its radiant pursuit of the ineffable, respects its own disarming wisdom, spread across each transformative and realized page.

–Alicia Askenase, author of St. Valentine May Have Been Twelve Different Men

The poems of The What of Underfoot are startlingly lyrical:

we follow how their shadows fold up and down back into /

the night (Mute Swan). Clear, marvelous: See how it follows me /

my black dress a ship / In America / I sit in the dark (Granma Hilda

and Joseph Brodsky). Language with extra ginger because she feels like it:

Impotent wings proof it’s a bird / Fat-arse. Melancholic visage. Dodo DNA

rumored at Oxford. / That’s trouble (Lewis Carroll and the Ghost). Julia

Blumenreich’s poems are handbooks, guide books: Ordinary, How, On The

Way To Pastorious Park, Now, Dedication, Small Talk, The Only Harmless

Great Thing, Armchair Travelers’ Checklist, Meditation At Twenty Five,

Lilacs And Other Things. Things are not as simple as they may appear.

These poems know there is suffering; they know there is happiness.

These poems speak for Beauty when it can’t speak for itself.

You have not heard this voice before and I’ll stand on Jorie

Graham’s nice furniture in my Clarks desert boots and say so!

–Leonard Gontarek, author of Take Your Hand Out of My Pocket, Shiva

Julia Blumenreich renders images and utterances like a painter—cardinal’s head beneath the rose bush, fist-sized red tulips, blue-black butterflies edged in cornflower—in rain-soaked brush strokes. We follow her through corridors & fields, intimate sorrows & loves, guided by the tension between capacious sentences & variable lines. You will savor these poems over many re-readings.

–Eli Goldblatt, author of For Instance, Without a Trace, and Speech Acts

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